#which serves its purpose but sometimes its too limiting

[legoliomanikas]

"Rather than collecting jewels that have already been shaped... I'm more fascinated by the process of turning an unrefined stone into a precious gem"

[Instagram]

(bonus images under the cut)

If you can't read my handwriting:

"Had a headcanon that some of Aventurine's most-used jewelery were gifts from Jade during the early days of him joining the IPC...

(...since his continued retaining of material objects serve as an extension of his character, representing different eras in his life:

Still holding onto items from his family (child era)

Wearing multiple rings on one hand + a watch in his main outfit (post-slavery era; emulating the style of his old slaveowner)

Ratio's note being a physical reminder to continue living (post 2.1 era; ratio being a 'supporting role' to aventurine's own mental health reflection + representing a bond he has in the current day, despite all his past losses).

Given Jade's importance in him becoming Aventurine a Stoneheart, it would make sense if he has something from her as well to represent that significant life transition.)

...so it was very funny that after I started drawing this it was confirmed that she does gift her proteges stuff LOL.

(And then it sat on my computer for a bajillion years until I posted it now RIP.)"

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Types of Argument: Toulmin

There are 3 basic structures or types of argument:

Toulmin Argument

Rogerian Argument

Classical or Aristotelian Argument

The Toulmin Argument

Although the Toulmin method was originally developed to analyze arguments, some professors ask students to model its components.

Each of these serves a different purpose, and deciding which type to use depends upon the rhetorical situation.

In other words, you have to think about what is going to work best for your audience given your topic and the situation in which you are writing.

There are 6 elements for analyzing, and, in this case, presenting arguments that are important to the Toulmin method.

Claims - A statement of opinion that the author is asking her or his audience to accept as true.

Grounds - The facts, data, or reasoning upon which the claim is based. Essentially, the grounds are the facts making the case for the claim.

Warrant - What links the grounds to the claim. This is what makes the audience understand how the grounds are connected to supporting the claim. Sometimes, the warrant is implicit (not directly stated), but the warrant can be stated directly as well. As a writer, you are making assumptions about what your audience already believes, so you have to think about how clear your warrant is and if you need to state it directly for your audience. You must also think about whether or not a warrant is actually an unproven claim.

Backing - Gives additional support for the claim by addressing different questions related to your claim.

Qualifier - Essentially the limits to the claim or an understanding that the claim is not true in all situations. Qualifiers add strength to claims because they help the audience understand the author does not expect her or his opinion to be true all of the time or for her or his ideas to work all of the time. If writers use qualifiers that are too broad, such as “always” or “never,” their claims can be really difficult to support. Qualifiers like “some” or “many” help limit the claim, which can add strength to the claim.

Rebuttal - Is when the author addresses the opposing views. The author can use a rebuttal to pre-empt counter arguments, making the original argument stronger.

These elements of a Toulmin analysis can help you as both a reader and a writer.

When you’re analyzing arguments as a reader, you can look for these elements to help you understand the argument and evaluate its validity.

When you’re writing an argument, you can include these same elements in to ensure your audience will see the validity in your claims.

Examples

Claims. There should be more laws to regulate texting while driving in order to cut down on dangerous car accidents.

Grounds. The National Safety Council estimates that 1.6 million car accidents per year are caused by cell phone use and texting.

Warrant. Being distracted by texting on a cell phone while driving a car is dangerous and causes accidents.

Backing. With greater fines and more education about the consequences, people might think twice about texting and driving.

Qualifier. There should be more laws to regulate texting while driving in order to cut down on some of the dangerous car accidents that happen each year.

Rebuttal. Although police officers are busy already, making anti-texting laws a priority saves time, money, and lives. Local departments could add extra staff to address this important priority.

The Toulmin method, developed by philosopher Stephen Toulmin, is essentially a structure for analyzing arguments.

But the elements for analysis are so clear and structured that many professors now have students write argumentative essays with the elements of the Toulmin method in mind.

This type of argument works well when there are no clear truths or absolute solutions to a problem.

Toulmin arguments take into account the complex nature of most situations.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[eeriepromis]

CALEB'S LIMITED MYTH - THE SIX-WINGED ANGEL

(source)

I felt like I just had to share this theory. I came across it on xhs by chance and just had to look further into it so here is what I found:

“I once soared with six wings, but now only the weight of my sins keeps me grounded."

"If I was made to serve, then tell me - why does my heart still yearn for freedom?"

The Symbolism of a Six-Winged Angel (Seraphim)

The six-winged angel, or seraph, is deeply symbolic in various mythologies, religious traditions, and fantasy settings. It often represents divine power, judgment, enlightenment, and transformation, but when fallen, it carries themes of rebellion, loss, and tragic defiance. 

Divine Power & High Rank in Celestial Hierarchy

In many religious traditions, Seraphim are the highest-ranking angels, standing closest to the divine.

Two wings to cover the face → Humility before God’s presence

Two wings to cover the feet → Modesty and reverence

Two wings to fly → Active service and divine duty

The Fallen Seraph: Rebellion and Tragedy

If a six-winged angel falls from grace, it carries themes of rebellion, defiance, and sorrowful wisdom. Lucifer is often depicted as a fallen seraph - a being of immense power who rejected divine order, falling from light to darkness. This could represent:

Losing faith in a higher power (or in one’s purpose)

Breaking away from imposed destiny

A shift from order to chaos, or from purity to corruption

The burden of forbidden knowledge (knowing things mortals or even angels should not)

A fallen six-winged angel is no longer just a servant of light -it becomes a wanderer, an exile, or even a tragic antihero who carries the weight of its former divinity. (Guys, this would parallel Zayne's lore as well since he also served a god.

"If I am to fall, let it be by your hand."

The Name "Caleb" - Meaning & Symbolism

Hebrew Origin: Caleb is a biblical name that means "devotion to God" or "wholehearted" - which is very ironic if he represents a fallen seraph or a rebel figure.

Symbolism in a Mythological Context

If Caleb was once "devoted" but fell from grace, it parallels a Seraph who defied the divine order.

His "wholehearted" nature could reflect his unwavering, obsessive devotion - either to MC or to some cause he once believed in but now questions.

Biblical & Mythological Parallels to Caleb's Role

Caleb as a Fallen Warrior (Lucifer Archetype): In biblical texts, Lucifer was often described as a bright, high-ranking angel before he rebelled. If Caleb mirrors this, he could have been a perfect soldier, an elite warrior - until he defied orders. (Reminds me too much of Zayne's lore though)

Caleb as a Tragic Guardian (Michael or Abaddon Archetype): The Archangel Michael was a protector, but also a warrior who cast others down. The name Abaddon (sometimes associated with fallen angels) means "destruction" or "the abyss." Caleb could have once been an enforcer of fate, only to become a rogue force when he realized the truth. (I kinda like the Abaddon route?? Imagine Sylus being accused of being the reason the world will end, but it was actually Caleb all along?)

Abaddon: The Angel of the Abyss

The name Abaddon comes from biblical and apocalyptic literature, often meaning:

“Destruction” or “Doom.”

“The Angel of the Abyss.”

A being tied to the end of the world, chaos, and divine judgment.

A fallen angel, cast into the Abyss for defying divine law.

The commander of fallen souls or destroyer of civilizations.

A force of judgment who isn’t inherently evil but rather a necessary aspect of destruction and rebirth.

“I loved you before the fall. I will love you even after oblivion takes me.”

If Caleb as Abaddon, the Fallen Seraph of the Abyss:

He is not just a lost warrior - he is a force that should not exist.

His love for MC is forbidden, consuming, and tragic.

He is both protector and destroyer, standing at the edge of oblivion.

His myth would be one of rebellion, exile, and devotion that never fades - no matter how many times he falls.

Angel Sanctuary Parallel

Caleb's Forbidden Love & the Adam/Lilith Parallel

Similarly, Caleb’s themes in Love and Deepspace involve temptation, knowledge, and a forbidden love.

Angel Sanctuary incorporates Adam & Lilith symbolism, where Lilith represents rebellion, defiance, and temptation.

Caleb’s myth theories also tie him to Lilith and the White Snake, suggesting his love for MC might be both fated and doomed.

If Caleb mirrors Lilith, then his love for MC could be seen as a rebellion against fate - a love that shouldn’t exist but does anyway.

Setsuna/Alexiel & Sara's Love

Alexiel was a powerful angel who rebelled against Heaven and was punished by having her soul reincarnated endlessly into human lives.

Every time she is reborn, she lives in suffering, forgetting who she once was.

Setsuna is her latest incarnation, but he is not aware of his past identity.

He falls in love with Sara his sister and reincarnation of Gabriel

Angel Sanctuary takes this idea of fated love and self-destruction to an extreme: -- The past and present selves are in conflict. -- Love and destiny are intertwined in ways that are painful and inescapable.

For more amazing Fallen Angel Myth theories pay a visit to this post by @starmocha. <3

[thewolffairytaler]

You're just trouble little sheep - part 2 | Thomas Hewitt x female reader

_____________________________

Summary: He dosen’t know how to handle you. You have your own thoughts and feelings, which makes Thomas feel very conflicted. Thoughts tend to make him think a lot about life and fictional scenarios because that's how one escapes reality, but Thomas dosen’t want it to be fictional, yet how can they be reality when he has his own problems and can't even trust you?

Parts: Three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, & eleven.

With a practised ease, Thomas hefted the animal carcass onto the nearby table, the wet, slick form of the beast sloshing on the cold, metal surface. His large, gnarled hands sought out the appropriate points, swiftly severing the carotid and brachial arteries to begin the process of blood removal.

As the red, viscous fluid gushed forth, Thomas moved on to the next step, skillfully guiding the carcass into the scalding bath, where the skin loosened and began to peel away. Satisfied with the result, he hauled the animal back onto the table, grabbing a sharp knife to make a long, clean incision along its abdomen.

With deft strokes, Thomas reached into the now-open cavity, removing the organs, and disposing of them into a nearby bin. Finally, he split the carcass in half, skillfully separating it into two symmetrical portions, which he placed onto a nearby conveyor belt, continuing the monotonous yet crucial task, over and over, until it was time for his shift to end.

Though his world may have been a mundane one, he excelled at his duties, finding some semblance of purpose and order in the routine and brutality of the slaughterhouse. He was the epitome of a butcher, driven by his instincts with a fierce loyalty to his family, ready to protect their way of life since they are growing too old to do much anymore.

But sometimes, Thomas just wanted to follow his emotions. Even if he knew it would get him into a lot of trouble, but he never did. Just stayed in line and did what was asked of him, cause that's all he was good for. Butchering, doing farm work, and sewing. Nothing special in those things in his mind, considering anybody could do that without a degree or a long time skill.

Thomas's eyes narrowed as he paused, reflecting on the thoughts that ran through his mind. Though he had no voice to vocalise his emotions, he seemed to be consumed by an internal turmoil. The idea of following his emotions, of forging his own path, was both alluring and frightening.

As if realising that any deviation from the life he had known could spell doom for his family, Thomas shook off his brief moment of introspection. His gaze hardened as he picked up his butcher's knife once more, plunging it into the next carcass with renewed vigor. He would remain true to his duties, even if it meant suppressing his inner desires.

He had no real aspirations, and his simple existence seemed to suffice for the moment. His skills in butchering, farm work, and sewing served a purpose, even if it was a humble one. Thomas would continue to be the reliable cog in the Hewitt family machine, unassuming but necessary, as he went on about his daily routine, oblivious to the world beyond his isolated existence.

He hated the silence at times, even though he wished for the calmness on some occasions. His brow furrowed as the memories of his youth resurfaced. His early dreams had been pure and innocent, reflecting a naive optimism. But as he grew, those dreams faded in the face of reality.

The disfigurement that marred the lower half of his face was an ever-present reminder of his limited opportunities. He knew that the world would never accept someone like him. His intelligence, while not overly impressive, remained mostly unexplored, stifled by his own insecurities and the confines of his home, along with his mask.

Thomas's eyes glazed over as he recalled the few times he'd tried to imagine a different life. A life where he wasn't shackled to the same routine and depressing existence. But those fantasies, as beautiful as they may have been, were quickly replaced by the grim realities of the life he knew.

As he worked, Thomas's hands never faltered, the rhythmic, methodical nature of his actions providing a sense of order to an otherwise chaotic existence. For a brief moment, a faint glimmer of sadness flickered in his eyes, a testament to the life that might have been, but it was quickly smothered by the crushing weight of his present reality.

His thoughts drifted to the alluring enigma of the woman he'd encountered mostly in his nightly wanderings. He found himself longing for something more, a connection with someone outside his dysfunctional family.

Yet, reality once more struck a cruel blow. He knew that she'd never see him as anything but a twisted, disfigured monster. The gap between their worlds was as vast as the chasm separating their very beings. Thomas's heart ached with an inexplicable yearning, yet he pushed the thought away, burying it deep within the dark recesses of his mind.

Instead, he focused on the immediate task at hand. He was needed at home, his family depended on him. One simple mistake could have the boss cut his salary in half or give a dumb excuse as to why he has to work overtime, but dosen’t get paid extra for it.

Thomas didn't know what to do about it, what to do with her but as the days keep on going, and the rumours of the slaughterhouse being potential shut down in the future. It made him nervous. The thought of losing his home, the only life he had ever known, terrified him. He grappled with the growing fear and uncertainty, his primitive instincts urging him to protect what little stability he had.

Those minor night walkings only started because he had a lot in his mind and couldn't sleep because they kept him up at night. But he never expected to see her outside so late sometimes. Apparently, she had two jobs, one as a late night waitress and the other as a secretary. He only found this out because when she did see him, she had asked him if he could accompany her for a while, stating she didn't exactly feel safe walking back home at night. Having sympathy for the shorter woman, he had decided that day to aid the little sheep out.

Nothing special had happened that night, she was mostly talking about work related issues, and about the economy for Newt not looking so great. She mentioned also that if it would get worse, she would have no option but to leave soon. Considering her financial situation wasn't the best, and her words made Thomas feel a bit... gray. The only nice individual who wasn't in his family could move at any point of his life, and he wouldn't even know it until she was already gone.

She had lived here her whole life, yet she had spoken as if she could leave it all behind in a heartbeat. Thomas's sharp butcher knife hit hard against the work bench to the point that it actually got stuck on the table, luckily though he hadn't put too much force in it, and had smoothly pulled it out.

He dosen’t know why she wanted to move away so badly, he dosen’t understand why she says it as if it is a dream of hers, but if she could say that so confidentiality to a man like him. What's to say she even cared about how he felt?

Author's note: I hope you enjoyed part two of this little series I had unintentionally created and now can not escape from. How long will it be? I honestly have no idea. We'll see if this short story turns out to be good or not.

[aziraphales-library]

Thank you so much for the work you do on this blog. For no reason at all I was wondering if you could recommend some fics where crowley is just extremely happy, having a wonderful day, loving his life

Here are some happy Crowley/good day fics...

May I Have This Dance? by AnonymousDandelion (G)

“Angels,” Aziraphale murmured, the words a warm and welcome breath of air not very far distant from Crowley’s cheek, “don’t dance.” “Oh?” Crowley’s answering smile was practically audible in his voice as he leaned forward, already on the verge of accepting the very obvious temptation to tempt. (That particular subtext technique — tacitly inviting Crowley to push, persuade, entice one step further — was one Aziraphale had mastered long, long ago. It no longer served the same purpose it once had, but that didn't mean they couldn't still dabble in their old patterns, if now purely for the entertainment factor.) “Is that the case, my angel?” “It’s certainly what I’ve heard, at any rate.” Reaching up, Aziraphale caught Crowley’s hand in his own, their fingers interlacing in what was now an accustomed movement… and never any less marvelous, each time, for all its growing familiarity. ~ ~ ~ In which Crowley and Aziraphale are very soft, very happy, and very together. That's the fic.

oh, but surely not by Phoenix_of_Athena (G)

Aziraphale can be firm, sometimes. Sometimes, when he really cares about something, he’ll speak up, and he’ll get this tone to his voice that makes Crowley take notice. It’s a little sharp, undeniably bossy, and it’s immovable…Crowley likes it.  Aziraphale usually takes pains to be passive; affable; soft—whatever he thinks it is that an angel ought to be, in order to guide people towards kindness and good and all that mush. But a lot of that’s an act; those are traits that Aziraphale’s put on, and which, over time, have left an impression on his personality. But really, Crowley’s counterpart has a core of steel underneath all of his silk and cotton. Crowley can be downright cheerful, for a demon. Peppy. Excited. Eager. Like a puppy, Aziraphale thinks when he’s not being particularly charitable, or like a child, when he is. It’s endearing, either way. And it’s striking. When Crowley’s not self-conscious, and he’s usually not around Aziraphale, he’ll get this grin. Wide, and wondering, and kind. Not like the wicked quirk of lips he’ll get after a job well-done, though that smile too has its own appeal—no, this one is hopeful, genuine, and charming in a wholesome way. Aziraphale can never help but smile back.

one of a thousand perfect days by 5ftjewishcactus (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley spend a lovely day together, first curled up in bed together, doting on each other and then later go for a picnic and a bit of stargazing. It really is a perfect day.

Ocimum Basilicum by KannaOphelia (T)

This was their life now. A peaceful village where they could hear the sea. Aziraphale was fast cultivating a reputation as 'that terrible man from the second-hand bookshop, he looks so kind and cuddly but just try buying a book from him, how that nice Mr Crowley puts up with the old devil I'll never know'. Happiness. Happiness was their life. Perhaps it was just that happiness was too much for a demon to bear without getting sick. Or perhaps it was something else entirely.

Enrichment Activities by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

Eager for novelty, Crowley takes up art. Picking one medium would be too limiting, though. Aziraphale is confused by the deluge of sculptures, paintings, and drawings, but he tries to be supportive.

Visibility by Aethelflaed (G)

“I just…woke up like this,” Crowley explained, in what was probably supposed to be a casual voice. “Definitely a curse. Probably one of those angels, thwarting and all, you know how they are.” “An angel.” Pinching zir nose, Beelzebub tried not to imagine the foolish way she was probably grinning. “And by pure coinczzidenzze, this angel juszzt happened to make you completely inviszzible on the day of your department budget review?” -- A mysterious curse that Crowley DEFINITELY didn't cast on herself makes her invisible for a day! What sort of trouble can she get into? Or get her angel out of?

- Mod D

[mariacallous]

Dizzied by an accumulated pileup of busted norms, you might have missed a presidential executive order issued on March 20. It’s called, “Stopping Waste, Fraud, and Abuse by Eliminating Information Silos.” It basically gives the federal government the authority to consolidate all the unclassified materials from different government databases. Compared to eviscerating life-sustaining agencies in the name of fighting waste and fraud, it might seem like a relatively minor action. In any case, the order was overshadowed by Signalgate. But it’s worth a look.

At first glance, the order seems reasonable. Both noun and verb, the very word silo evokes waste. Isolating information in silos squanders the benefits of pooled data. When you silo knowledge, there’s a danger that decisions will be made with incomplete information. Sometimes expensive projects are needlessly duplicated, as teams are unaware that the same work is being done elsewhere in the enterprise. Business school lecturers feast on tales where corporate silos have led to disaster. If only the right hand knew what the left was doing!

More to the point, if you are going to eliminate waste, fraud, and abuse, there’s a clear benefit to smashing silos. For instance, what if a real estate company told lenders and insurers that a property was worth a certain amount, but reported what were “clearly…fraudulent valuations,” according to a New York Supreme Court judge. If investigative reporters and prosecutors could pry those figures out of the silos, they might expose such skulduggery, even if the perpetrator wound up escaping consequences.

But before we declare war on silos, hold on. When it comes to sensitive personal data, especially data that’s held by the government, silos serve a purpose. One obvious reason: privacy. Certain kinds of information, like medical files and tax returns, are justifiably regarded as sacrosanct—too private to merge with other records. The law provides special protections that limit who can access that information. But this order could force agencies to hand it over to any federal official the president chooses.

Then there’s the Big Brother argument—privacy experts are justifiably concerned that the government could consolidate all the information about someone in a detailed dossier, which would itself be a privacy violation. “A foundational premise of privacy protection for any level of government is that data can only be collected for a specific, lawful, identifiable purpose and then used only for that lawful purpose, not treated as essentially a piggy bank of data that the federal government can come back to whenever it wants,” says John Davisson, senior counsel at the Electronic Privacy Information Center.

There are practical reasons for silos as well. Fulfilling its mission to extract tax revenue from all sources subject to taxes, the IRS provides a payment option for incomes derived from, well, crookery. The information is siloed from other government sources like the Department of Justice, which might love to go on fishing expeditions to guess who is raking in bucks without revealing where the loot came from. Likewise, those not in the country legally commonly pay their taxes, funneling billions of dollars to the feds, even though many of those immigrants can’t access services or collect social security. If the silo were busted open, forget about collecting those taxes. Another example: the census. By law, that information is siloed, because if it were not, people would be reluctant to cooperate and the whole effort might be compromised. (While tax and medical data is considered confidential, the order encourages agency heads to reexamine information access regulations.)

Want another reason? Spilling data out of silos and consolidating it into a centralized database provides an irresistible honeypot for hackers, thieves, and enemy states. The federal government doesn’t have a great record of protecting sensitive information of late.

Trump’s order does state that consolidation must be “consistent with applicable law.” On its face, the order seems at odds with the 1974 Privacy Act, which specifically limits what it calls “computer matching.” But the order also says that it supersedes any “regulation subject to direct Presidential rulemaking authority.” This president considers that a very broad category. Also, as evidenced by multiple court rulings, Elon Musk’s so-called Department of Government Efficiency has been less than meticulous in respecting current law. In more than one example, current agency officials have cited legal barriers to block DOGE’s access to information. As a result, they were placed on leave, replaced by those who were willing to fling open the silos. In addition, on March 25, Trump issued another executive order that dictated that the Treasury Department should have access to other government databases. As legal justification, it cited an obscure passage in the 1974 law that allowed federal computer matching in limited circumstances. Perhaps this loophole will be broadened to justify the massive consolidation envisioned in the silo executive order next.

Oh, and the March 20 order also gives the federal government “unfettered access to comprehensive data from all State programs that receive Federal funding, including, as appropriate, data generated by those programs but maintained in third-party databases.” That seems to mean that not only will the silos between federal and state data be compromised, but the government could get access to some information in private hands too.

While DOGE wasn’t mentioned in the March 20 executive order, getting access to personal information has been an obsession of the so-called agency since day one. The order that repurposed USDS and established DOGE mandated that all agency heads “ensure USDS has full and prompt access to all unclassified agency records, software systems, and IT systems.” The question was whether this need arose from a desire for genuine reform or something darker. Apparently US district judge Ellen Lipton Hollander holds the latter view. On the same day that the president signed the executive order on silos, she signed a temporary restraining order on DOGE’s attempt to get access to identifiable social security records. “The DOGE Team is essentially engaged in a fishing expedition at SSA in search of a fraud epidemic, based on little more than suspicion,” she wrote in her decision, concluding that DOGE was intruding into the personal affairs of millions of Americans without justification. Note that her order involved just a single agency—a mere fishing pole compared to the commercial seafood operation that could happen if social security records were consolidated with IRS data, unemployment information, military, VA, and countless others.

I’m not condemning efficiency when it comes to government operations, and I certainly don’t condone fraud and waste. Of course, the US government should do better. But DOGE isn’t operating as if efficiency were job one, even though its actual title contains the word. In covering tech companies, I often hear boasts that the process of upgrading an existing product was like “rebuilding a plane in mid-air.” But when the vehicle in question is carrying live passengers, every move must be done with extreme caution, because a mistake means catastrophe. Both President Trump and DOGE seem happy to fly the plane into a mountain, figuring they can pick up the pieces later.

Compared to some of the administration's actions involving pandemic responses, nuclear safety, and social security support, the March 20 executive order on information silos might seem like small beer. But if this order is followed aggressively, we could lose the accuracy of our databases, a good bit of our revenues, and above all, much of our privacy. We’re going to miss those silos.

[grassgirl]

How to Touch Grass When You’re Allergic

You know how when you’re doing something chronically online, or stressing about something seemingly insignificant, and the people around you tell you that you need to “touch grass”?

I found myself at odds with the very idea of touching grass.

When I first got to college two years ago I had all the confidence and fervor in the world. I was social, athletic, and always outside running around, breathing in the fresh air and running through the grass without a care in the world. But through a series of trials and tribulations - including but not limited to a myriad of health issues in the past year and my family losing their home while I was at school - I found myself being intensely depressed and losing confidence. Someone told me that the root of a lot of my problems was that I wasn’t comfortable being alone, so I worked for a year to finally found some semblance of solace in solitude.

But now I’m so used to my own company that I rarely leave the house. I don’t see my friends. I miss meals, sometimes on accident and sometimes on purpose. I’ve gained weight and am starting to redevelop a negative self-image. I no longer choose to be alone, I feel like I must be alone to feel safe.

To make matters worse, I also realized a new problem - my allergies. I went outside less and less, and now that I was in a new place I found myself struggling with a new problem - allergies. I’m super allergic to grass and pollen, and in this new college environment with all the foreign trees, allergies were kicking my ass just as bad as the other stuff. I used my allergies being a catalyst for worse health issues as a way to justify not leaving the house unless absolutely necessary. In about a year, the joyful and outgoing version of myself that had entered college was nowhere to be found, replaced instead with a self-conscious, overthinking hermit who trauma dumped to their friends in text messages and didn’t answer my mother’s phone calls.

Something needs to change.

I know some of the solutions to these problems on a common sense level. If I’m having issues with my allergies progressing to more serious illnesses from a weak immune system, I need to schedule a meeting with a doctor, go to my checkup, and get allergy medicine so it won’t bother me as much. Simple!

But the issue isn’t figuring out the solution, it’s actually going through the effort to see that solution through. I’m too broke for Uber, and the bus and walking are certainly options for most, but both take a while and require me to walk through long stretches of grass which will risk worsening my condition before I get to the clinic. Not a risk I’m willing to take even though I know they can help me with the problem once I get there, simply because it’s so uncomfortable short-term. No clinic means no checkup, and no checkup means no prescription. My allergies spiral as the pollen does through the air. I’m trapped inside gazing outside at everyone else enjoying the cooling breeze with all the vents and windows closed, burning in my non-air-conditioned room because I have no other means of alleviating my symptoms.

My allergy connundrum serves quite nicely as an analogy for my life in other regards. I’m so comfortable being on my own now that reaching out to others makes me unhealthily anxious. I don’t want to be perceived and I don’t want to fail and I certainly don’t want to be perceived failing. My fear of it all is what keeps me from doing the necessary stuff to improve my life.

Tl;dr - I desperately want to touch grass again, but I’m allergic.

Since having this realization, I came across a YouTube video from creator Eddy Burback about living without his phone for a month because he realized he hates it and the anxieties he received from its contents outweighed its convenience short-term. The video got the cogs in my head turning about forcing myself to . From there, I watched a Game Changers clip, where Sam Reich said his signature phrase, “The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning. And the only way to begin is by beginning.” I’d heard it about a million times before, but this time, along with my realization and the Eddy video, I saw this line differently.

If I am going to be able to go to the doctor, or to solve the problems in my life, I need to go outside. And there’s no new strategies I need to prepare to go outside. I know how, I do it for my classes (much closer to my dorm than the clinic and less likely for me to face my allergies so quickly, but still the point stands - if I can do it in short bursts, I can eventually do it in long ones).

If I was going to go to the clinic, the only way to begin to leave the dorm was by beginning to leave the dorm.

So that’s what this blog is. Me learning how to leave my dorm, and by proxy my comfort zone. Me learning how to chase the internships I want, to make new friends, to learn new skills and improve the old ones. Me using this blog as a diary and a way to express the things I either can’t or shouldn’t say in my everyday life. And I’m blogging it all on Tumblr because having something to update will hopefully keep me accountable, but it being here instead of Instagram or TikTok keeps me from feeling suffocated by the eyes of people I know and the cursed connected contacts feature. Every 2 weeks, I’m going to experiment with a couple new goals or ideas that I believe will help me improve some aspect of my life. I’ll try to update the blog 2-3 times per week. Maybe more. Maybe less. We’ll have to see how it pans out. But the goal is to come up with ideas, start working towards the ideas, and see how I feel after trying the ideas out. And hopefully, I’ll find some habits that I like and want to continue. If my story resonates with you, I’d love for you to join me. Maybe we can hold one another accountable and make new friends, lol. But if not, that’s cool too. For now, I’m gonna draft some ideas and update you all with my first couple goals when I wake back up tomorrow.

Goodbye for now,

grassgirl 🌱

[freshlybakedspiderbread]

ive always wanted to talk a bit about how i feel about the connection between Yukari and Merry because i love the endless parallels and thematic connections (like everyone else on the planet 😁), but wondering if it was ever 'worth' it since i may just be spouting a lot of what is already considered 'common knowledge' among hifuu aficionados. Not to mention i think my thoughts on it are somehow both really messy but also crystal clear. 😐 Well whatever! Its my own head anyway so i'll try not to worry and am gonna attempt to elaborate even if just a little on this post, which may not be entirely coherent due to sleepy, post-medicine fatigue.

i feel like over the years i may have started to become reflexively more 'against' yukari = merry fandom, although 'against' is probably too strong and its much more complicated than just "i dont subscribe to that theory" because thats not even entirely accurate!

it is of course a classic and really cool idea of the Merry one day becoming Yukari has been and continues to be thoroughly explored by many many fans for moving, tragic, bittersweet, or thought provoking work. I love Absolute One-Way Street, and also Dream and Reality among many other works like it 📖

but i also think its a little stiffling to think of that as the one and only story to tell about them? Now its possible that the sentiment im about to express isn't actually common and im actually just making up a person to respond to, but i think taking the teasing connections between Yukari and Merry and treating the idea of them being the same individual as the absolute obvious truth is a bit of a limiting perspective.

Of course everyone is entitled to their own opinions and headcanons! but i want to make a case that when it comes to touhou and especially hifuu in particular, there's also a richer (and possibly deliberate on the author? who knows!) point to treat it more abstractly.

Maybe they are the same person. Maybe one day Merry becomes Yukari, or Yukari becomes Merry. Maybe they're different people. Maybe they come from the same lineage. Or maybe one is a clone of the other grown in a lab or made with a magic spell.

None of that is as important to me as the the roles they serve in their stories. touhou has always had themes about the gap and the bridge between fantasy and reality by taking place in a world where fantasy seeks refuge from reality, and hifuu goes much further in that theme by taking place in a reality that has completely left behind fantasy. That parallel is really cool to me and its embodied perfectly by both stories having a purple-clad blonde girl with the means to poking their toes into the boundary between fantasy and reality.

In the fantastical world of touhou, one serves as gensokyo's powerful (if frustrating, shady, annoying, disagreeable) protector with allies that she watches over (and sometimes manipulates) with her great power, all to preserve their little wonderworld. And I think its sooo compelling how zun introduced hifuu in the music cds and designed a very similar-looking character, who lives in a stifled reality lacking in imagination, mostly spends her day chasing after even the smallest traces of dreams with a partner whose own small logical world expanded with infinite possiblities upon their meeting...

In the last few cds, Merry's powers may be growing stronger and i get why feeds the implication she's becoming something other than human. But my take on that has always been its more of a sign that she and Renko are already outliers in their world simply for daring to believe there is more to the world beyond facts and logic. I dont expect their story (assuming zun ever brings them back. we havent heard what theyre up to since 2016....) to ever end with both or either of them becoming a youkai or vanishing to gensokyo, because frankly that wouldn't serve any purpose for the themes hifuu has been about, which is embracing fantasy while living in a world that has abandoned it.

trying to remember what my point with this post is.... Oh right its that I think all these themes about the nature of gensokyo or the state of reality in hifuu are only made richer when you think about how they contrast with one another. And by extension, I think Yukari and Merry are both richer if you think of them as conceptual and thematic counterparts in two different stories on the opposite end of a similar spectrum, before thinking about what literal or objective connection they might have. Subjectivity definitely means more than objectivity in this case!

[eowynstwin]

Throwing my hat in the ring to cast tf141 in Fallout.

Price is a veteran NCR Ranger who saw both the first and second battles of the Hoover Dam as a young man. Following the collapse of the NCR he roves the wasteland as a sometimes bounty hunter, sometimes do-gooder when his conscience gets the better of him. He is haunted by the decline of the country he served, the country he believed in, knowing he had no power to save it. He is in the first stages of ghoulification, and is struggling to feel like there's any point prolonging the process.

Gaz is a former vault dweller who came to the surface, against the wishes of his fellow dwellers. He learned of the NCR and the progress it had made reestablishing the trappings of civilization, and left his home behind to fulfill his entire vault-dwelling purpose. Price keeps him from getting shot in the first settlement he stumbles across, and he's been tagging along with the old-timer ever since, trying to figure out what to do now that Plan A is a crater.

Ghost is a knight in the Brotherhood of Steel who is notorious for working alone. He comes from a family of wastelanders, which met its grisly end after the sins of his raider father caught up with him. The Brotherhood picked him up when a patrolling vertibird caught sight of his family home burning down, and found him standing in front of it with a lighter in hand. He isn't what you'd call a fanatic, though; he just likes to know where his next meal is coming from.

And Soap is Ghost's first-ever squire. Soap is a former NCR Ranger recruit who ran off when he saw the writing on the wall of the nation's decline, fully intent on joining the first organization he could find that might actually stand a chance of "saving" the world. Too late after joining did he realize the scope of the Brotherhood's goals, and the limited aid it was willing to offer civilians of the wasteland; he languished as an aspirant for years, with nowhere else to go after the bombing of Shady Sands, until Ghost handpicked him to be his squire.

No idea what their whole story would be, but I envision, after a series of wasteland shenanigans, Ghost and Soap leave the Brotherhood after a boiling point. They encounter Price and Gaz several times, and after more shenanigans, and Price's half-hearted-to-passionate proselytizing the values of democracy, they party up permanently, and Price realizes his dream of creating his own team—ranger squad 141.

[11cleyvaart]

Quimby headcanons maybe?😘😘

These are just my headcanons of Quimby, and some of them are also observed from the shows as well that keep his character in canon. And I'm sure I missed something too.

To be clear this is for my Inspector Gadget Au, where it's more gritty and more like the futuristic aspect rather than the 1980-2015 world of Gadget. 

His full name is Frank Mitchel Quimby. 

He's also 41 years old. He's been married to a woman for 20 years, and has been divorced just recently. 

He's a closeted homosexual, but feels more at ease and comfortable with Gadget than anyone else. He's known Augustin for years on the force and later turned into a romantic relationship between them. Their relationship slightly boarders on a rebound relationship.

His father was a military veteran and amputee, so he had years of understanding for those who have lost parts of them. Which allows him to understand Gadget on that level as well. 

Years of smoking a pipe gives him a permanent scent of peaches. He likes his flavoured tobacco for his pipe and will always have a faint peach fruit to his clothes. Yet on most days he doesn't smoke his pipe, mostly just to have something in his mouth. All his pencils have bite marks so he opted to just holding his wooden pipe in his mouth instead. 

He's an undercover agent himself, usually the one who gets the information on MAD and their plans. Making him the most sought after man in the entire department to be killed. He uses his stealth and many disguises to hide in plain sight.

So he lives a life of stress, and picks at his tie causing it to be loose and crumbled. He goes through them but it is too cheap to buy new ones. His stress also contributes to his weight gain as he rarely lives at his own home anymore in fear of MAD finding him, so he eats fast-food alot. He's a big meat guy, likes burgers and sausages with little on the veggies. 

He's also a skilled shooter, his shape may not show it but he's very capable of moves after years of service to the force. 

His favourite weapon of choice is the S&W Model 39, a small gun that takes much longer to learn to shoot but it serves its purpose. Even if it's defunct at this point he loves the feel of it and wouldn't want to replace it. 

Now after all that's said and done, he's also a masochist. He loves a good bite here and there getting his head shoved down on Gadget's ‘gadget’. He lives to be subject to pain within his limits. In his first marriage, it was a dead and loveless time. But with Augustin, he's more free to be the person who was hiding in him all along. He's a complete bottom and doesn't mind it as long as his top is his Inspector. Yet due to Gadget's sheer weight from his machinery, Quimby rides cowgirl. With missionary position a limited event that is used to hit their sweet spots, especially Quimby's. 

To everyone else he is mean and quick to anger but with Augustin he's a soft and gentle man. He also has a caring spot for Penny, especially little Penny. He feels more motherly towards her and will do anything in his power to be sure her uncle comes home alive everyday. 

A firm advocate for Inspector Gadget and his ability to solve crimes, when sometimes he is just blinded in his infatuation for the man he believes Augustin can do anything. So he automatically congratulates him even when Augustin knows he didn't do anything.

[townsenddecades]

1334 – Day 2 – Glennborough

In the months after their agreement is first struck, Baron Goth frequently visits – which was to be expected. Her upholding her end of the trade requires his participation, after all. It is unavoidable that her children start asking questions, which she answers honestly. There is no sense in subterfuge; she will hardly be able to hide a pregnancy from any of them.

Her boys react less horrified than might be expected. The Irish, Mariora has quickly come to realize, don’t let the bonds of marriage tie them down as much as the English do, and even before their move, they had been kept separate from society so much that the meaning of marriage simply hadn’t encroached upon their world. Their concerns are practical; pregnancy will limit her ability to do her chores, at least in its later stages, which will mean more work for them, as does the prospect of a new baby. And a newborn will require much more attention than even three-year-old Siobhán does.

But they also see the benefit of the trade and ask her what house they will move into. She doesn’t have an answer for that. All Baron Goth has told her so far is that he is looking for suitable accommodations, ideally near the castle, so he can visit her more easily.

His visits itself are…strange. Baron Goth is an engaging man, and he never fails to ask about the progress of their crops, her children, or if she has heard of this or that event in town. She also learns about the goings-on in the wider world from him, including a civil war that has apparently broken out among the Irish de Bourgh family, but has luckily left their coastal town untouched so far.

He even brings her gifts sometimes.

But even with all that, a part of her can never forget that these visits serve a main purpose: for him to bed her in exchange for economic advantages for her. Her official designation, if she had one, would likely be ‘mistress’ or ‘concubine’, not ‘prostitute’, but she sometimes thinks that even those terms would be easier to bear if she was actually in love with him.

But then again, for most women, marriage itself is nothing more than an economic or dynastic arrangement, so her relationship with Baron Goth is nothing out of the ordinary. Her many happy years with Simon, their marriage for love, was a luxury and a blessing not many people can afford.

And if she never finds a love like that again, which she doesn’t want anyway, she could do far worse than be the mistress of a lord.

That inner turmoil doesn’t keep Mariora from rejoicing over Joseph’s sixth birthday. Money is still tight, so she doesn’t dare use their meagre food stores to bake a cake, but she still tries to make the day special for him. She hopes that once she actually gets the benefits Lord Goth only promised so far, she will be able to celebrate her children’s birthdays as they deserve.

Her heart still aches a bit when she looks at her third son, so like she imagines a younger Simon. With age, more differences will likely begin to show; his face is rounder than she remembers Simon’s to be, and she thinks the shape of his eyes and his lips is different too, but not significantly so. Time will have to tell.

Thankfully, Nicolas and Christopher quickly include their little brother in their chores and show him what he is to do. Shared among three instead of two, caring for their garden goes a lot quicker, which leaves her boys with more time for other things. They take him fishing, too, which he proves to be reasonably adept at.

Previous: 1334, Day 2, Part 1/5 <--> Next: 1334, Day 2, Part 3/5

[nihilisticraccoon]

ok so

my grandparents are in town and we went to dinner earlier and at some point my grandma asked me about the etymology of “OK” bc she’s into that stuff and when i tell you i’ve been waiting for someone to ask me that exact question for YEARS

so anyways y’all get an abridged version while i’m still riding that high (yes it has been 3 hours but that was the high point of my week so too bad):

basically back in like the late 18th to early 19th centuries there was this slang trend of misspelling words on purpose as a joke, and one of the more popular of these was “all correct” to “oll korrect”, so this kinda brought the idea into the public eye, and then people started having the idea of abbreviating this to just “OK”; but it doesn’t end there bc at the same time as this uptick in popularity of “OK” was the presidential campaign of Martin van Beuren, from Kinderhook, NY. Van Beuren had the nickname “Ol’ Kinderhook”, and his presidential campaign had the idea to conflate that “OK” with the trendy new phrase, spreading “OK” out of the northeast US (specifically Boston) where the trend was most popular

anyways from there “OK” in its newfound popularity combined with terms that had similar sounds and/or meaning (such as the Choctaw “okeh”, serving a similar purpose as “amen”, and potentially the Bantu “kay” as an affirmative/agreement) and grew in popularity as even newspapers and other prints started using it increasingly often without a definition (which is significant bc it showed the expectation that a large amount of people just knew the term)

anyways sometime along this pathway it also gained a ‘proper’ spelling retroactively to appear more natural in more formal settings (it doesn’t really end up as formal but it’s still a pretty rare linguistic phenomenon for that to happen so worth noting) and now “OK” is regarded as one of if not the most commonly spoken word/phrase on the planet bc of its prevalence in not just english but an actual ton of other languages (including but not limited to Arabic, Korean, Dutch, and Brazilian Portuguese)

so yeah that’s something i find interesting sorry for the rant

[c-poetjoycciwi]

I Don’t Want to Go to Heaven.

I don’t want to go to Heaven.

A statement not many ever think to themselves, let alone let leak from their lips-

A statement almost equivalent to ‘I wish Christmas were canceled and fun were illegal’ in the eyes of Christian America-

So unthought of, impossible to conjure, confusing and laughable.

At any glimpse of the thought, it must be excorcised from our holy bodies immeditaly out of extreme anxiety-

Because fear is what Christians are married to even if no one wants to get up here and admit it.

But I’m not afraid.

I don’t want to go to Heaven.

Because if there’s a Heaven- that means there’s a Hell.

If there is a Hell that means there is Satan,

And if there is Satan then there must be… God.

I’ve been praying to myself, ever since I started wanting to live

That there is no God above us.

Because the day I realized I wanted to live,

God never crossed my mind.

If God truly loved me, and could do anything he wanted,

I assume he would want to be with me on that day.

I was on my knees, slamming my head with my fists,

Holding scissors in my hand as blood dripped onto the tiles of the kitchen floor-

I was alone.

I was utterly alone,

It was the loneliness that made me want to kill myself.

But also made me want to live for myself.

Because that was the day I realized the beauty of life-

Is that nothing matters.

Everything is limited. Everything changes, everything dies,

What we have right now is the only moment we have.

That is the beauty in life. That is what is worth living for.

Experiencing every small moment to the best of your ability,

And letting them stitch themselves together, threading in new generations

Until the sun explodes, all is lost, temporary and gone.

The problem with gravestones, is even stones crumble.

There is beauty in the broken rock, the inner ore, and letting parts of this earth go.

Letting the sandcastles fall, and the tattoos fade, grandparents die, and shirts are outgrown.

If there is a heaven- the beauty is removed from loss.

I want to do everything and more with my life,

In my heart I wish I had a million lifetimes, but in my head, I would despise it.

I want to rest from this life when I am done.

I don’t think I would be able to stare God in the face after all He’s cursed us with.

Sometimes I hope this is hell.

I know we’re all not doing well-

Putting our faith in something greater than us, which no one knows to truly exist-

Sacrificing the life we have now to some greater cause beyond death-

What if death is the greater cause?

Because-

According to astronomy every star we wish upon is already long dead, decayed, forgotten,

Only now its light reaches our eyes, ‘what a sight’ I just might place my faith in a dead star- sounds a lot like religion if you let yourself think about it.

We appreciate them in our breathing state but they only serve our purpose when their glow is long extinguished,

Distinguishing life from death is an important thing to do-

I’m not living for what’s after this,

I’m living for this moment.

This is not easy for me.

By the time I was seven I learned to fear demons,

Crying in my room, reciting Bible verses for an answer as to why I was here.

I never got one. I found it on my own.

If God is real,

Then I should have killed myself when I was twelve

Instead of foolishlingy living to an age where I outgrew God.

Like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny, I know too much about the world to keep believing that the origins, answers and complexities of life can fit between the covers of a book no one can truly trust.

When I was twelve I still believed church was good. I prayed to myself every night.

I didn’t know who I was-

But who I was, was a good little christian girl.

Terrified of hell to the point my bones rattled, gripping my bible as a shield against problems I still need therapy for today.

‘Ask God and he will answer’

God has left me on delivered since I prayed the Lords prayer.

‘God can save your soul’

Where was he when my soul was drowning in all it could not handle-

I coughed up unprocessed thoughts as my friends gave my soul CPR but only I could choose to live from there.

We can’t put our lives in the hands of God, out of our own and our responsibility-

My life is still mine, even with these borrowed atoms from the earth that will again return.

Sacrifice is not a graceful thing, we’ve all sacrificed ourselves to death by living now.

Killing myself is not a sacrifice? By the Bible’s logic that makes no sense.

Expressway to heaven, no accidental sins, be like Jesus but don’t come back-

I’m sorry.

God can not be so kind by sparing us from Hell, when he’s the one who created Hell to begin with.

The system is rigged from the start, yet we’re told to praise the one who made the system? No.

I will not worship governments for taxing us to death, nor will I worship a ‘savior’ for cursing me with living and then calling it sin.

‘That’s selfish, you need God’

Everyone says to me.

Then why has he been consistently absent in my greatest moments- or are my greatest moments not so great and my viewpoint is too limited to see? What is a moment relative to all of my life, or all of time or beyond this life, they say.

‘If life were only moments then you never knew you had one’ a quote from Into the Woods- a musical full of sin,

I begin to realize the best things in life are the ones we call ‘sinful’

I’m sorry for enjoying myself in the only time we have-

This is life. This. Is life.

Not heaven, not hell, this is what we have.

These are the moments that let us grab fistfulls of sand and let it seep through our fingers, frolic in the rain, letting it seep down and drain into our skin and clothing, have good sex and kiss people you love, create beautiful sinful art, make memories and moments worth living until the sun explodes, and the tattoos we got when we were 18 rot from our skin and seep into the wood planks of our coffins-

Until our gravestones crumble back to the earth, and life begins again.

If you can credit God with all of that, go ahead. I won’t stop you, whatever helps make this place a little more bearable.

But I still don’t want to go to heaven.

I have all of the heaven and hell I need, right here.

When I die, I want to rest I don’t want to live this life in fear that all I do will be judged afterwards- I just want to live now and die later.

As my heart beats and my lungs breathe, my blood is circulating through my body, with a consciousness I never asked for-

I am here. And that’s enough.

If wishing on dead stars gets you through the day, then by all means.

But remember to realize there is a difference between life and death.

Our souls are living now, let them live.

Let them be.

If there is a heaven, I hope to see you there.

If there is not, I hope to see you here.

[the-one-where-casey-watches-tv]

True Detective episode 1.08 "Form and Void"

I love anthologies. I love the endless potential, and the early seasons of American Horror Story really prove the extent of that potential. It’s also so much cleaner than having a bunch of spinoffs (tell me why American Horror Stories is a thing? Anthologies by definition don’t need a spinoff. Just do it next year). But the later seasons of AHS also embody the downfall of anthologies: if they do too good a job, it can be hard to get excited about the next season because you know that everything you liked about it will be different next time around.

I’ve only seen season one of True Detective, and I’m really trying to talk myself into pressing on, not because I didn’t like it, but because I liked it so much. The people behind this show built themselves some massive shoes to fill, and I’m skeptical that it can be done. Everything about this first season was incredibly deliberate; it was gripping and compelling at every turn, and it all served a larger theme. It even managed to come around to an uplifting final message, which I was pleasantly surprised by as this was one of the darkest things I’ve ever watched.

I tend to cover finales, and that’s because endings are so important to me. It absolutely makes or breaks my entire impression of a show (I reminisce sometimes with “remember when I liked Ozark?”), and True Detective’s season one finale drew a powerful underscore on everything I’ve loved throughout this entire journey. This is a story with purpose, that knew exactly what it was about. As a whole, it had the power of its own Rust Cohle who said things like “I know who I am. After all these years, there’s a victory in that.” and “Given how long it’s taken me to reconcile my nature, I don’t think I’ll forego it on your account”.

Matthew McConaughey in "Form and Void". Image courtesy of IMDb.

“Form and Void” finds Rust and Marty on a boat, holding Steve Geraci at gunpoint, a former sheriff who holds key insight into the Marie Fontenot case. Cohle forces Geraci to handle the tape he stole from Tuttle and watch it, eyes glued to the TV. Geraci watches, screaming as he does, reacting even more strongly than Marty. Some people seem to find it cheesy that rather than showing us the tape, they show us these ‘hard, seasoned men’ struggling to watch it, but I think that’s exactly the point.

A crucial thing this show is about is the difference between bad and evil. Marty’s a pretty bad guy I’d say- lies, cheats, beats people up, calls his daughter and wife whores- but he’s also a human being with emotions and limits and can function in our society. The crimes of this case are on the fringes of humanity. This show does a great job displaying the depths of these atrocities without forcing us to look at something unspeakable. Making the characters do it for us not only shows us the nature of the crimes, but the nature of the people. Errol Williams Childress, the man with the face like spaghetti, the undocumented Louisiana man who committed these crimes, is as evil as a person can be while still being a human being (“he’s worse than anybody”). And fighting him with such force makes Marty a ‘good’ man in the biblical sense, despite being so flawed that he’s hard for regular folks like you and me to really get behind.

Marty struggles a lot with his conscience over the course of this story, and Maggie ultimately acknowledges that he “didn’t know who he was, so he didn’t know what to want”. Rust, who, of course, knows exactly who he is, doesn’t have patience for Marty’s hemming and hawing. When Marty asks if Rust ever wonders if he’s a bad man, Rust doesn’t hesitate to say that “the world needs bad men. We keep the other bad men from the door”. The idea that bad men can do good- by protecting the world from worse men- is a major takeaway, and one that I really like.

Woody Harrelson in "Form and Void". Image courtesy of IMDb.

And Rust may have been stewing in a storage unit obsessing over this for years, but it’s ultimately Marty who finds the key clue that brings everything to a head. He recognizes a fresh coat of green paint on a house in Erath, drawing the connection to the green ears in the description of their subject. Adrenaline pumping from the new discovery, Marty and Rust head out to find out who painted the house.

An interview with the old woman who lived in the house in ’95 confirmed that she had her house painted by men who worked for her parish- the Tuttle church community. Rust and Marty were able to track her husband’s payment for the job to Childress and Son Maintenance, which yielded an address to the Childress property. They head over. This is it. This is the place. Rust can tell by the taste of the air.

“That taste. Aluminum, ash. I’ve tasted it before”. Marty, used to his partner saying weird shit, but ever the human being who’s realizing they’re walking into a life-threatening situation, simply says, “you still see things ever?”. Rust replies, “It never stops, not really. What happened to my head, it’s not something that gets better”. Not a reassuring answer to Marty, but Rust’s proximity to insanity is the very thing that keeps him safe amongst actual psychopaths. Similarly, Marty’s ability to read people is a skill the show makes sure we’re aware of despite his gruff, bumbling personality.

That skill is what made Marty feel comfortable calling Papania, one of the two interrogating officers when they arrived on the scene. But alas, there’s no service. That’s typically a frustrating and unnecessary roadblock in suspense stories, but it just feels realistic out here in bumfuck Louisiana. So, Marty forces his way into the home in search of a landline while Rust secures the perimeter. Marty overpowers Childress’s girlfriend (wife?), but not before she can say some truly haunting shit about the man they’re here for.

Ann Dowd and Glenn Fleshler in "Form and Void". Image courtesy of IMDb.

Rust, meanwhile, has encountered him face to face. He has his gun pointed squarely at Childress and tells him to get on his knees, but Childress simply says “no” and runs off. Why Rust didn’t just shoot him, like Marty did to LeDeux’s crony 17 years ago, is a valid question. I think at this point in time, Rust has a lot less stamina for bureaucratic coverups, paperwork, and debriefs and a much greater willingness to die. Not to mention, they don’t really have any legal standing to be here in the first place this time around. He’s going to see it through, all the way through, in the beating heart of this operation.

Which turns out to be an absolutely terrifying maze of tunnels lined with stick-work much like those found at the crime scenes. Rust winds his way through, but every corner he rounds with his gun drawn just makes the dire situation all the more evident. He is at every disadvantage, no idea where he’s going, while Childress clearly has eyes on him. His voice carries through the maze, somehow coming from somewhere, taunting Rust, guiding him right where he wants him. “Come on inside, little priest. To your right, little priest. This is Carcosa. You know what they did to me? What I will do to all the sons and daughters of man? I am not ashamed. Come die with me, little priest.”

Woody Harrelson in "Form and Void". Image courtesy of IMDb.

I’m obsessed with Childress calling Rust little priest. In addition to the obvious irony of this being a church-based cult- and Rust looking down at organized religion altogether- he is super preachy in his way. He says some stuff throughout this whole season that really grinds you to a halt. My favorite is one of his earliest revelations of his personality, one that stuns Marty into regretting having asked him anything at all: “I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution. We became too self-aware. Nature created an aspect of nature separate from itself. We are creatures that should not exist by natural law. We are things that labor under the illusion of having a self, an accretion of sensory experience and feeling, programmed with total assurance that we are each somebody, when in fact everybody is nobody. Maybe the honorable thing for our species to do is to deny our programming, stop reproducing, and walk hand in hand into extinction. One last midnight, brothers and sisters opting out of a raw deal.”

It may not be Jesus, but it’s a hell of a response to the simple question of “are you a Christian?”. And when it comes down to it, isn’t sharing your opinion on humanity and what we should do with it all that preaching really is?

Anyway, Rust enters the offshoot of the tunnels that Childress directs him to. It turns out Marty was right to be worried about those hallucinations of Rust’s. He looks up at the sky, visible several feet up into the air, and a spiraling galaxy fills his field of vision. Rust is distracted by it when Childress charges him with a knife. If that hadn’t happened, I think Rust would’ve gotten him in one. But Childress stabs him deep in the stomach and twists, holding him up in the air by the blade.

Matthew McConaughey in "Form and Void". Image courtesy of IMDb.

Marty bursts in behind them, prompting Childress to drop the deeply wounded Rust to the ground. Marty doesn’t hesitate to fire three shots into Childress that hit him in the shoulders and chest, seemingly to no effect. Childress charges Marty, hurling an axe head-over-handle until it buries itself in Marty’s chest. Marty dislodges the axe and uses it and all his strength to hold Childress at bay.

When it comes to scary things, I’m usually most affected by the occult. Things like demons, ghosts, possession etc. are terrifying to me. Things you can always see, that die for good in ways we can measure and understand typically don’t bother me as much. But Childress is so fucking scary. The ideology and staging of the killings was eerie every step of the way, but this final confrontation is so well executed. Childress is as powerful and able to withstand as much as I can reasonably believe possible in a human being, and Marty and Rust suffer the most serious of injuries that they can plausibly walk away from. Rust’s managing to get to his gun and shoot Childress in the skull is, in a way, scary in and of itself because it confirms that this really was an actual person who walked among us.

Matthew McConaughey and Glenn Fleshler in "Form and Void". Image courtesy of IMDb.

Marty and Rust have had a bond all along, but their recovery together in the hospital is a wholesome confirmation of that. Despite everything that happened between them and the rage Marty felt towards him when they parted ways years ago, Marty and Maggie both refused to entertain the idea that Rust had done something evil. In fact, they took offense to the thought, putting an abrupt end to any conversation that started to go that way.

After Childress is dead, Marty crawls to Rust and puts pressure to his stab wound while they wait for help to arrive. Recounting it later, Marty says he sat there “with his friend’s head in my lap”. Once both of them are lucid in the hospital, Marty, less seriously injured, wheels himself to Rust’s hospital room. Rust is himself, that is to say, not warm and cuddly, instead preoccupied with the fact that he had come across Childress in their original investigation and failed to put the pieces together. But Marty takes him in stride, telling him not to ever change, and he’ll “be back tomorrow, buddy”. They send each other off with a flip of the middle finger.

Marty proves himself the most at the very end. I was impressed with him for understanding his faults and truly giving Maggie the space to move on. And I was impressed with him for staying by Rust’s side even as he continued to heal faster than him. Despite Rust’s resistance to the idea, Marty insists on seeing to Rust having a place to stay when he’s released- that things are “already arranged”.

In the rawest- and most optimistic moment of the whole show- Marty wheels Rust out under the stars for a non-sanctioned smoke break. Rust breaks down, in itself a true sign of his bond with Marty, and opens up through his tears: “There was a moment… I know when I was under in the dark, that something… whatever I’d been reduced to, you know, not even consciousness… it was a vague awareness in the dark, and I could… I could feel my definitions fading. And beneath that darkness, there was another kind. It was deeper, it was warm, you know? Like a substance. I could feel, man, and I knew, I knew my daughter waited for me there. It was so clear. I could feel her. I could feel… I could feel a piece of my pop too. It was like I was a part of everything I ever loved, and we were all… the three of us… just fadin’ out. All I had to do was let go. And I did. I said ‘darkness, yeah, yeah’. And I disappeared. But I could… I could still feel her love there, even more than before. There was nothing but that love. Then I woke up.”

Still from "Form and Void". Image courtesy of IMDb.

We’ve heard from Marty, from the Tuttle parish, and various believers along the way, that there is more beyond. More after. But hearing Rust say it makes me believe it. He was wrong about there being nothing and us being no one. It’s a beautiful moment. But there’s more.

Rust breaks down after this, and Marty shows a soft side of his own. He tries to bring Rust back by asking him about something he’d mentioned years ago- that he used to make up stories about the stars when he lived in Alaska. Either Rust humors him or the invitation to talk about that really does anchor him, at least enough to ponder some more; either way, he finishes Marty’s prompt.

RUST: I tell you, Marty, I’ve been up in that room looking out those windows every night here and just thinking… It’s just one story. The oldest. Light versus dark.

MARTY: Well, I know we ain’t in Alaska, but… appears to me the dark has a lot more territory.

RUST: Yeah. You’re right about that.

They ponder the night sky a little longer. Rust asks Marty to take him to the car. He’s had enough of hospitals. Marty knows Rust well enough to look out for him, but not to argue with him. He obliges. As they’re about to part ways:

RUST: You know you’re lookin’ at it all wrong. The sky thing.

MARTY: How’s that?

RUST: Well, once, there was only dark. If you ask me, the light’s winning.

Matthew McConaughey and Woody Harrelson in "Form and Void". Image courtesy of IMDb.

On that honestly beautiful note, we fade out. It’s an incredibly more positive answer to Marty’s question long ago of why Rust hasn’t just killed himself if he sees humanity in this awful way. His answer at the time was that it must just be his programming. But he’s always seen the potential in the light. Never delusional about how much darkness there was, hence his perpetual melancholy, but always aware of the possibility of the good. That’s the real reason he’s kept fighting. Someone like Rust Cohle seeing that potential makes me believe it’s really there.

So, here’s the biggest question: should I watch season two? Will it hold up to the real beauty I found here? Drop me your thoughts on Marty, Rust, and all things True Detective.

[snurgle07]

Say all your psychonauts 2 thoughtS

All of them huh? I think about this game so much, I’d be here all day, but this certainly gives me a good excuse to ramble about some things I love about pn2. :D

- The characters are amazing! 10/10 I care about pretty much all of those freaks. The art style makes them all look so charming in a lopsided weird sort of way, and the game is so empathetic to everyone that even the characters we don’t get much of or who serve a limited purpose still feel well rounded and real.

- Raz is excellent. He’s loads of fun in the first game and continues to be a blast in the second. He’s even more adorable and earnest in the sequel and I love that for him!! He’s definitely one of my favorite characters of all time, I adore him.

- Adoring the characters goes for everyone though. And pn2 has a whole new cast of characters who are all super fun in their own ways. The Psychic 7 especially are super cool. My biggest soft spot is for Lucy, but I love Bob, Ford, and well, the rest of the seven really, a whole lot. Getting to meet the Aquatos is also awesome, and the interns are cool too. Lotsa cool groups of characters to enjoy.

- The story? Awesome. Feels grander than pn1 to be honest, and I like that, but also it’s completely great on its own. It’s got loads of mind shenanigans, drama, great mental health commentary, and manages to balance out all the trauma with enough healing and empathy and even a bit of humor that it all still feels nice and hopeful despite everything. Like yeah there’s a lot of angst material certainly, and as a fan I gotta love that, buuuut sometimes I need a piece of media to punch me in the gut and then give me a warm hug afterward.

- On the note of mental health stuff, I feel it did great. It’s noticeable that they talked to experts and people with personal experience. They were able to convey the mindscapes of certain traumas and mental health issues with more accuracy. The first game was certainly empathetic and kind in regards to that, which was a big deal at the time, buuuut the accuracy was a bit lacking back then. Pn1 shows it’s age a bit in that regard. Pn2 improves on that wonderfully with both kind and more researched explorations into the mind.

-The morals regarding the complexity of the human mind and the messiness of humanity and how we often make mistakes and have more to us under the surface… heroes are often flawed, villains may just be a version of a person we made up in our mind based off of our limited perceptions… aughh good stuff. There are so many good takeaways from psychonauts 2 and I love it!

- Also on a more personal note, I probably owe this game my fascination with psychic powers and psychics in fiction. It’s tangentially what got me into Mob Psycho 100, and has inspired me to make some psychic ocs. The art direction really impacted me and even the way I draw. My style has opened up so much more since practicing drawing such funky looking characters. I genuinely think it has helped me improve a lot and helped me discover more about what kinds of art style I adore and inspired my own. The gameplay too, alongside the art direction, has impacted my aspirations a lot as far as being an artist and hopefully to work in game design— which is to say it’s super inspiring! I think it can inspire people in a myriad of ways, it’s a very unique game like that, and it really reminds me why I love art, storytelling, and games so much. I genuinely feel I owe it a lot for a variety of reasons and I’ve seen many others who play it feel the same. :)

TLDR: Psychonauts 2 my beloved…

Thanks for the ask! I will never not want to talk about psychonauts, this game is sticking in my brain for good.

[rikomoriyama01]

🗣 or not idm

1) No characters names immediately come to mind. I don't actually watch or read that many things so it's hard. But I suppose any character that commits a form of sexual assault I'd feel similarly about. Especially if its to the extent that Riko does.

2) I don't care. I just think expecting others to engage with characters like this is silly, or getting mad if their engagement with that character is limited to them saying they want them to die or they're happy they're dead. I think if Riko fans engaged with him in a different manner they may be better favoured, but its just a hunch. I think there's this tendency to be quite reactive sometimes. Any time somebody outside of the Riko circle makes a post on him, fans of him are quick to point out he's a victim. And they're right. But most people know it already - they just don't care. And I sometimes wonder if Riko fans realise that? People end up getting kind of frustrated when you tell them something they already know, and I think that's natural.

3) I can spend the time not engaging with them, engaging with characters I like or find interesting. There is just zero appeal to me to engage with characters like this.

4) Its complicated. I think the same reasons you could come up with so I won't list them all. I will say, cause it may be the only point where we differ, I do think part of Riko’s motivations for his actions was that he enjoyed to hurt people. Which I do believe is supported by the text, even if it is not his 'main' motivation.

5) Depends what the specific 'different way' is I guess? But largely no, I don't think it would have been better. I think it would have been worse actually. I think Rikos character serves his purpose in the story well, to change things may affect that. The only thing that I think would be better applies to the story as a whole, which is, if Riko is to be one of the only Asian characters then we need other Asian characters who are not villains.

Joffrey is probably the closest comparison though I was never in GOT fandom so I don't know how public engaged with him makes me curious now though ever for me joffery was too pathetic to be entertaining even a fictional character. 2. In this convo id like to focus on personal feelings not "i think other fans should behave differently" the idea is to show why certain things make you feel certain way to show your point of view without using other peoples actions as your point, lets focus on Riko and his character only because i could write down toilet paper length list about things people in this fandom do that annoys me. "other people know it yet don't care" - other people in fandom often use their preference in fictional media as moral high ground clearly painting people with different fictional preference as morally bankrupt and so ignoring Riko's status of victim while claiming moral superiority is extremally provocative and hypocritical thing to do. if you had not noticed this happening its because you have luck of being on "acceptable" side of fandom 4. I encourage people to list them all because for me this is sign of "yeha I actually read those books and make conscious choices" rather than I'm just annoyed this character exists 5. agreed