#would sell my soul for them to be produced and would buy it in a heartbeat

[arandomnerd810]

As a Caine fan knowing full well she can lie when talking about future lore oh boy

now i’m still keeping my it needs to be 100% confirmed to get too exited over it mindset esp with her posts but i am glad i got the Caine keychain and VA signed poster cause if this is the truth he has a genuinely good shot at staying my favorite TADC character throughout the human’s episodes

(there are some things i’m pretty sure are true because either i don’t know why she would lie about it and it does not seem like a joke such as Ganlge liking to draw or damage control things like Queenie is not Kinger’s sister but alas this is neither of those)

[eternal-echoes]

The poll

I don't think it's just that; I think more and more people are realizing that every child deserves a mother and a father and legalizing gay marriage deliberately deprives a kid of one of them. Orphans and children of single parents always long for their missing parents.

While there are unfortunate circumstances like death of a parent or divorcing an abusive spouse that makes it inevitable, ultimately since children are made through the biological union of a man and woman, their spiritual relationship with them should be preserved.

Since we're not just a material being, we're also of both body and soul. Not Cartesian dualism but Hylomorphism where the union of body and soul makes one nature.

The only two ways a gay couple can have a baby is either through surrogacy and/or adoption. Along with its ethical concerns with buying a baby, a gay couple taking a newly born baby from his/her mother is depriving that child with the much needed bonding time with the mother (i.e. breastfeeding, cuddling, etc). It's illegal to sell a puppy within 8 weeks of birth because it would be too cruel to separate it from its mother,* then how much more devastating would it be when it comes to a human child? And a child's need for a mother doesn't stop when he/she no longer needs to be breastfed, the mother is essential for the child's emotional maturity as well.

Here is a video of Ryan T. Anderson back in 2014. I'll highlight some important points but the whole video is really good.

Marriage exists to unite a man and a woman as husband and wife to then be equipped to be mother and father to any children that that union produces. It's based on the biological fact that men and women are distinct and complementary, it's based on the anthropological truth that reproduction requires a man and a woman, it's based on the social reality that children deserve a mother and a father. ... Marriage is the institution that different cultures and societies, across time and place, developed to maximize the likelihood that that man commits to that woman, and then the two of them take responsibility to raise that child. Part of this is based on the reality: there's no such thing as parenting in the abstract; there's mothering and there's fathering. Men and women bring different gifts to the parenting enterprise. Rutgers sociologist professor David Popenoe writes, "The burden of social science evidence supports the idea that gender differentiating parenting is important for human development and the contribution of fathers to childrearing is unique and irreplaceable." He then concludes, "we should disavow the notion that mommies can make good daddies, just as we should disavow the popular notion that daddies can make good mommies. The two sexes are different to the core and each is necessary, culturally and biologically for the optimal development of a human being." ... The impact of marriage. So why does marriage matter for public policy? Perhaps there's no better way to analyze this than looking to our own president, President Barrack Obama: "We know the statistics that children who grow up without a father are five times more likely to live in poverty and commit crime, nine times more likely to drop out of schools, and 20 times more likely to end up in prison. They're more likely to have behavioral problems or run away from home, or become teenage parents themselves. And the foundation of our community are weaker because of it." ... President Obama sums it up very well: what we've seen in the past 50 years since the War on Poverty began, is that the family has collapsed. At one point in America virtually every child was given the gift of a married mother and father, those numbers right now: it's more than 50% of Hispanics children are born outside of wedlock, more than 70% of African Americans are born outside of wedlock. And the consequences for those children are really serious. The State's interest in marriage is not that it cares about my love life, or your love life, or anyone's love life just for the sake of romance. The State's interest in marriage is ensuring that those kids have fathers who are involved in their lives. ... If the biggest social problem we face right now in the United States is absentee dads, how will we insist that fathers are essential when the law redefines marriage to make fathers optional? ... Think about the social consequences if that's the direction the slippery slope in which marriage redefinition would go. For every additional sexual partner I have, and for the shorter lived those relationships are, the greater the chances that I create children with multiple women, without commitment with either to those mothers or to those kids. It increases the likelihood of creating fragmented families and then big government will step in to pick up the pieces with a host of welfare programs that truly drain the economic prospects of all of our states. ... So for all those reasons this is why the State and all states have an interest in preserving the definition of marriage as a union, permanent and exclusive of a man and a woman.

Also an article supporting some of Ryan T. Anderson's points:

It’s worse to be raised by a single mother, even if you’re not poor.

The reason for this is that fathers tend to be the disciplinarian in the family. They provide the moral framework in his children's lives.

Reminder that even though the Catholic Church does not support gay marriage, it doesn't mean that she hates gay people. There is a ministry called Courage International where people with same-sex attractions are encourage to live chaste and holy lives.

*Original wording taken from here.

[intotheseas]

My submission for @stardewfanficwriters ' event, 1.6 fest! Day 4, Green Rain.

Title: Hoppipolla

Rating: M

Pairing: Sebastian x OC f!farmer

Tags: Unresolved sexual tension, fluff, character development, sexual tension, friends to lovers, falling in love

Word count: 5,960

AO3 Link here!

Full text below the break!

Sage loves her cows. They're gentle giants with soulful eyes, fuzzy brown fur, and a proclivity for affectionate headbutts. Since they arrived a month ago they've thrived, living well off of the land. 

The late afternoon sun’s a furnace beating down on her as she finishes her milking. Every animal is loved upon, every space is cleaned, and each trough is overstuffed with hay. Sage wipes her forehead. The air is so humid it's almost wet, moisture hanging thick in the air. 

Moving on from her livestock, Sage allows her thoughts to wander. She and Shane meet up for lunch at least a couple times per week. Bit by bit, they're getting closer. It's good to have friends in the Valley.

Her newfound financial security is nice, too. Pierre buys a large portion of her milk, and she's negotiating with a few grocers in neighboring towns to sell the surplus.

Sage examines her fields. Pierre offered her a bulk discount on tomato starters, and her first harvest put the potatoes from spring to shame, thanks to fertilizer. Ever since she relented to Pierre's numerous thinly veiled sales pitches, the quality of her crops has skyrocketed. Even after almost half a year in the Valley, she's learning new things every day. 

Half the produce went to Pierre, and the other to a grocer a few towns away. A couple weeks ago, she and Maru spent a few days together installing a sprinkler system into her fields. Maru had been eager to put her skills to the test, and they were both grateful for the bonding time.

With a soft expression, she brushes her fingers along the tiny yellow flowers. Day by day she's watched the plants climb higher and higher along the trellises she and Sebastian built. They'd spent hours putting together the thin pieces of wood, spread out on the farmhouse’s floor. 

It was sweltering that day, and he'd taken his shirt off again. They'd relished the weak breeze from the box fan Sage set up near the door. From the corner of her eye she'd watched, shameless, as he worked. Her gaze lingered on his back and freckled shoulders far longer than what was usual for a friend. 

She's accepted, she has a big crush. But they're friends, and good friends at that. And that's enough, for now. A smile tugs at her lips as she surveys her farm. It's hasn't ceased to be novel, that thought. Her farm. Hers. She never pictured herself this way, owning anything. Creating something. It's more fulfilling than she ever thought it would be.

After a final glance at the fields, Sage heads inside for a shower. Scrubbing herself raw, she sighs in relief, melting under the lukewarm stream. She's always loved feeling clean, especially after a day of working in the hot sun.

Satisfied, she strolls into the main room, dripping water onto the wooden planks. Grabbing a soda from the fridge, she turns on the TV, her newest splurge. When her milk started selling so well, she figured she deserved a treat. 

Sebastian comes over more often lately. They camp out at the table, snack on veggies, and enjoy the easy company. It's a comforting routine they've built, a foundation of silly jokes, music, and a mutual appreciation for books and dumb sitcoms. 

That's something Sage likes about Sebastian. She never feels the need to fill the silence between them. They have good conversations, too, but there's never any pressure to talk. It's effortless. Natural.

The news is on, and she's only half listening, pondering what she might plant this fall, until an alarm blares. Leaning forward, she squints. 

The weatherman pulls at his collar and stammers, mentioning a strange storm developing. Sage stills as the words "unprecedented" and "anomalous" bounce between the newscasters. She thinks of her crops.

Sage: Hey, are you watching the news right now?

Sebastian: No, why?

Sage: There’s some weird weather thing? Green rain? Idk. People seem kind of freaked out.

Sebastian: Shit, yeah, this looks cool as fuck. You see the video they showed?

Sage: Mhm. I guess it's supposed to hit us overnight. I'm kinda worried for my tomatoes. Think I'm gonna put covers on them.

After downing her soda and watching more of the forecast, Sage steps outside. She's digging around in the shed, tossing coverings, stakes, and a hammer out, when she hears footsteps. A minute later, Sebastian raps on the door, holding a stitch in his side and out of breath.

“Hey, thought you might want some help, so here I am.” He scrapes his hair into a half-bun, pulls the tarps from the shed, and drags them to the field.  

Sage blinks. “Hi to you, too. Thanks, Seb.” Joining him, she tries her best to ignore how self conscious she feels, aware of every miniscule movement she makes. 

“My pleasure.” He fiddles with his t-shirt’s collar. “Mom also wants you to stay the night. I guess the whole town's freaking out because of this storm. She doesn't want you alone in case it's destructive.” 

“And,” he avoids her gaze, “it's probably best if people stick together. I'm sure it's nothing, but better safe than sorry.” 

Sage looks at him for a moment, watching as he hammers a stake into the ground, and shrugs. “Yeah, okay. Let's finish this and I'll pack a bag.” Keeping her expression nonchalant, she can only hope her exterior doesn't betray the frazzled state of her heart and mind. 

On the inside, her stomach's doing flips that would put any gymnast to shame. Hanging out at her place and the docks is one thing, but spending the night under the same roof…Dangerous thoughts, Sage. Focus.

She bites the inside of her cheek, clinging to her composure. Though he doesn't mention it anymore, Sage doesn't know when Sebastian plans on leaving for Zuzu. The odd sense of limbo’s thorned into her side as they've grown closer. 

With her tongue stuck between her teeth, she drives the last stake into the ground. Whatever this rain is, it shouldn't touch her crops. Satisfied, she brushes her shorts off. “Guess I'll pack a bag.” 

Sebastian follows her inside - by now it's second nature. He grabs a soda from the fridge and sits at the table, glued to the news while he rests his chin in his hand. 

Keeping an ear trained to the forecast, Sage throws some essentials into her backpack. The weatherman’s voice is shaky, repeating his earlier warnings of unprecedented events and strange radar signatures. 

Her forehead scrunches as her movements slow. If anything happens to the animals or crops, she'll have to start over. Can she do that? “I'm wondering if I should leave. What if it harms my tomatoes or livestock? And Lenny?” 

“I get it, but we can shut the animals in the barns and take Lenny with us. There's not much you can do against nature.” Sebastian frowns. “I'd rather have you safe with us than stuck here alone.” 

The look on his face makes Sage a little weak in the knees. He's speaking as if he cares about her. Which he probably does. As a friend. Because that's what they are.

Turning away, Sage hides her heated cheeks. "Yeah, okay. I'm still gonna worry, though." After Lenny's coaxed into his carrier, she and Sebastian corral her beloved chickens and cows inside. Sage hugs each animal and stuffs their troughs with extra hay.

Hoisting her bag onto her shoulder, she looks back at her farm as they begin the trek up the mountain path. Lenny's in his carrier, cradled safe in Sebastian's arms. Her steps falter.

"You good Sage? You've got the same kind of dreamy look Maru gets." He waves a hand in front of her.

She startles. "Sorry! I was just thinking how it's been almost six months since I came here. This farm means a lot to me. Didn't expect that to happen. Was only looking for an escape, but this...well, it's a lot more."

With molten eyes, Sebastian smiles. "Glad you moved here, farmer girl."

His words leave her fizzy, like the sodas they left on her kitchen table. Sage thinks she might float up and out of sight if she wasn't attached to a body. She wants to hug him, to tell him she's glad here's in the Valley too, but resists. Instead, she casts a final look back. "Do you think the rain will be anything bad?" Her voice wavers.

"Nah." Sebastian coos at Lenny as he steps around a rock. "We're right by the ocean. There's bound to be weird storms coming up the coast now and then." With a quick glance at her, he adds, "There's no harm in being careful, though. And Mom will be happy to have you."

The tension leaves her body as he speaks. And Sage wonders, when did that start happening? When did she start trusting him to calm her? To help her? Taking a deep breath, Sage realizes how much she's changed since she left the city, and how much she loves the changes she's made.

She's blooming, same as tulips on her porch, and the tomatoes in her fields. Thriving alongside the land Grandpa Charlie entrusted to her.

As they reach Sebastian's house, they're treated to a dazzling view of the sun dipping closer to the sea. The air is cloying with the scent of rain, and in the distance, clouds tinged with green scud off the horizon. Sage shivers. Whether it's in excitement or fear, she isn't sure.

Inside the house, it's dim and smells of sawdust and varnish. Sage peers around, craning her neck. "Where should I put my stuff?"

Sebastian stops, blank. "Uhh, I hadn't thought that far ahead. There's a couch downstairs. You can let Lenny out down there, too. C'mon." He leads her down a set of steps to the right. 

They're greeted with complete darkness. Bumping into Sebastian's chest, Sage blusters backward, tripping to the ground. 

Swearing, Sebastian sets down a protesting Lenny and stumbles a few paces away. "Shit, you alright? Hold on." A switch clicks, and a light flickers on. Extending a hand, he hoists Sage up.

"Thanks, I'm good. I didn't expect it to be so dark." She peers around. "So, this is your room?" Gray bricks line the walls, and the decor is minimal. A bed, couch, shelf, and a desk with a computer. A few posters line the walls, mostly from bands or video games. Sebastian shifts beside her.

"It's not what I expected, although your bookshelf does look nice..." Sage trails her fingers against the books’ spines. A decent collection of comics, horror, and some classics.

"I, uh, haven't really redecorated at all since high school, since I figured I'd be leaving and all."

Sage straightens and keeps her expression carefully neutral. Of course, he's still thinking of moving. "Ah. Right." She turns to face him. "Makes sense, if you're gonna go to the city."

Awkwardness hangs over them, sticky and suffocating. Sebastian's gaze darts around, and a shaky laugh escapes him. "A-anyway," he says, "who knows when that'll happen. We should go upstairs. I'm sure Mom wants to see you."

Bending down, Sage lets Lenny out of his carrier. "Yeah. Let's do that." As she follows him out, her heart is tender in her chest, like it's sustained a bruise. She's gotten attached. Her nails bite into her palm as she holds back tears. This sucks.

In the kitchen, Robin and Maru gather around the table, the glow of the TV reflected in their wide eyes. Maru flashes a quick smile, and Robin pats Sage's head as they sit, her focus trained forward. "I'm glad you're here, Sage. I'm sure this'll be nothing, but it never hurts to be safe. Everyone in town's worried and the news isn't doing much to calm the public."

"I appreciate you inviting me to stay the night." Sage does her best to keep her voice light despite the weight in her stomach. "Maru, will you and Demetrius study this at all?"

Maru twirls a pencil between her fingers. "I'll take some samples once it passes, but I'm not going out until it's over. Dad, well, he'll do what he wants regardless of what we say." Robin scowls.

Pulling her knees to her chest, Sage turns her focus to the worried newscaster on screen. The feed switches to a reporter in Zuzu City. They huddle under an awning, casting nervous glances at the vivid green sky above. "An emergency stay in place order remains in effect for Zuzu City! All non-essential businesses are to remain closed."

Another talking head appears. "We can confirm the rain is not acidic. However, we don't know much else, only that it appears to make vegetation grow at an alarming rate. Whether this affects its cellular structure or not remains to be seen."

Maru leans forward, already scribbling onto a piece of paper. "Fascinating,” she murmurs. "By the way, Sage, if you don't mind the floor, I have a sleeping bag you can use."

"Oh! Thank you, I-"

"I've already set her up on the couch in my room. Comfier than the floor."

Sage, Maru, and Robin's heads snap toward Sebastian, but they say nothing.

She wasn't aware that placing her things on the couch counted as her agreeing to sleep there, but she's not complaining, either.

The silence is broken by the patter of raindrops against the window. Robin springs up and turns off the lights. Outside, a faint green light is visible while clouds hover overhead, closer to the ground than usual. Shuddering, Robin sits down and turns to the TV.

The talking heads continue their talking, interspersed with videos of reporters shivering under umbrellas and wearing gas masks. They look ridiculous, and Sage is leaning toward Sebastian to whisper as much when Demetrius enters the kitchen, donned head to toe in a hazmat suit. He breathes, heavy and labored, and Sage's mind flashes to a caricature of Darth Vader.

"Shit, I just forgot I have a project due for a client tonight. Sage, come help me." Sebastian grabs her hand and pulls her into the hallway and down the stairs. She can hear Robin's bemused voice floating after them.

"Sage can code?"

Downstairs, he grips her hand, doubled in laughter, and soon Sage is laughing too. They clutch at each other for support, trying not to fall. His hands move to her shoulders and she feels so secure she might cry. He's so solid, so safe, so fucking alive.

"He looked ridiculous," Sebastian chokes between peals of laughter. His head hovers above Sage's shoulder, and then rests on it, giggles muffled into her flannel. He smells of soap, coffee, and faintly of cigarettes, and Sage wants to close the distance, to wrap her arms around him.

But she can't. Because he's going to leave her. She stiffens under his touch, and he quiets and steps away, the grin wiped from his lips. "Ah, sorry. I invaded your personal space."

Sage shrugs, all her focus on keeping a straight face. "You didn't. It's fine."

The sticky awkwardness is there again, like drops of humidity clinging to their skin. Clearing his throat, Sebastian turns on the TV and sits on the couch. "You can join me, if you'd like."

She sinks into the cushions beside him. Their thighs almost touch, and that's louder than anything the panicked weatherman has to say. Lost in her own head, Sage finds herself suppressing tears again. She wanted that moment to last. She didn't mean to make him stop, and she's cursing herself for stiffening.

Sitting together on the couch feels so fucking right and normal, and her throat constricts as she realizes it's temporary. That someday she'll reminisce about this, sad, a mere blip in her life. Her eyes burn as she admits to herself, she wants this to be more than a blip. The thought gives her the urge to run away, out into the weird rain, as far as her legs will take her.

"Sage? You okay?" Sebastian's leaning forward, waving his hand.

She jumps.

"You're a million miles away."

Heart hammering in her chest, Sage takes a deep breath. Fuck it."I- I'll really miss you when you move to Zuzu. We always have so much fun. Sorry, I want you to pursue your dreams, I promise, it just won't be the same once you're gone.”

Sebastian frowns, eyebrows knitted. "Sage..."

She knows how this part goes. He'll tell her she's nice, but he doesn't see her the same way, and he has to follow his ambitions. And how can Sage blame him? Who is she to deny him the opportunity? A pathetic sniffle escapes her. She can't believe she's allowed herself to get so attached to him, especially since she always knew he planned to leave.

"Sage." He's holding her shoulder now. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

Swallowing hard, she shakes her head. "No, sorry. What did you say?"

He smiles at her, with something tender and warm in his expression. And for the second time that day she finds herself weak in the knees. "I said I'm not sure if I'm moving to Zuzu."

Sage blinks. "What?"

"Yeah. I've been thinking a lot about what I want out of life, and I'm not sure if that lies in the city. Or, well, if it lies anywhere. Maybe it's something I can find wherever I am." He leans back into the couch. "I think I wanted to move to Zuzu so I could be alone. Which sounds weird, but-"

"It's easier to be alone in the city. I lived there, I know." Their eyes lock.

"Exactly. But lately, things aren't so bad. Maru and I have gotten closer. Abby's dating someone from Grampleton and it isn't weird with her. And," he pauses, his gaze still on hers, "I have you."

Sage's breaths are shallow as her heart thumps in her chest. She's not sure how to deal with the sincerity, the tenderness in his voice, and defaults to a joke. Her voice squeaks. "So...you're saying we're friends?"

He tilts his head a bit before he bursts into laughter again, clapping a palm to his forehead. "Yeah, Sage. We're definitely friends." He looks at her for a few moments longer. "So, don't feel sad. I'm not leaving, not anytime soon, at least. And if I ever do, you'll have plenty of warning."

Chewing on a fingernail, she nods. It's not definite, but maybe their time isn't limited. Maybe she can get over her crush and be a good friend to him as she has to Shane. A tiny bubble of hope rises in her chest.

"Hey." Sebastian leans close again, inches from her face. Her focus is hyper-sharp, aware of every molecule of space between them. "I bet this rain isn't shit. You wanna sneak out after everyone goes to sleep? I bet we can see a ton of frogs. They must be going crazy out there."

Her lips curl into a wide grin. "Yeah. I wanna experience the super scary green rain. Should we get some coffee?"

“Yoba, yes. But try not to laugh at Demetrius if he's still in that getup."

"No promises." They both smother giggles into their hands. "But I'll do my best." 

Sebastian’s POV

"We should dress light. We're gonna get soaked, anyway." Sebastian sneaks a glance at Sage, clad in a thin tank top and jean shorts. Already regretting the choice of words, he turns away and shucks his hoodie. "Lucky for us, my family goes to bed early. Shall we?” 

“Let's do it.” Chugging the rest of her coffee, Sage scratches Lenny’s ear before they creep up the staircase. The squeak of the front door freezes them in their tracks, but no one stirs. They tiptoe outside with bated breath. 

Lingering by the front door, Sage peers at the eerie glow bathing the Valley. “Maybe we should stay here a few minutes to make sure it's not gonna hurt us.” Rubbing her arm, she shoots him a bashful grin. 

“You scared?” Sebastian chuckles.

“Not scared, just practical.” Sage sticks her tongue out, then recoils as the rain hits it. “What the fuck? Seb, it tastes like mint!” 

Sticking his own tongue out, he jerks in surprise as a few drops fall into his mouth. The taste is sharp, minty, and a little peppery. “Shit, that's weird.” He tilts his head to the sky. “I kinda dig it."

Below, Pelican Town is visible through the green haze. The sky above, so wide and open, fills him with thoughts of potential. Sebastian moves to Sage's side, leaning on the house.

He's a tightly wound ball, stuffed to the brim with fizzing excitement. It could be the caffeine, or the novelty, but he suspects most of it is the fact that Sage is there, and they have an entire night ahead of them. 

“Well, we haven't disintegrated yet. Think you're comfy to go out?” 

Sage answers by tugging him into the downpour. “We're already pretty wet. Might as well!” 

Taking the lead, Sebastian pulls her onto the path down the mountain. The air is thick with the lush smells of grass, moss, and damp earth. Everything shimmers through a sheen of emerald. He's never seen the path look so beautiful, so gorgeous. 

Sage keeps close. His skin tingles when her cold arm brushes against his. Trying to distract himself, he peers further into the gloom. “Spooky, isn't it?” 

She nods. “Yeah, but it's kinda delicious how creepy it is, you know?” Bending down, she inspects the wildflowers lining the trail. “Wow, there's already so much new growth.” 

Crouching beside her, he runs his fingers over a rock. It's fuzzy with a thick layer of moss. A frog leaps from behind, and he lights up as Sage catches it between her palms. 

“Check this little guy out! He's a cutie, isn't he?” 

The sight of her holding a frog, beaming, sends his heart into overdrive. With a soft huff, he touches its bumpy skin. “Very cute.” 

Careful not to harm it, Sage places the frog into the undergrowth. “Bet this is a total party for him.” Her smile is affectionate, reaching the depths of her eyes. “Let's leave him to it.” It hops deeper into the trees, croaking. 

“Have I ever told you I love frogs?” 

Sage blinks at him. “No, but I can totally see it. You both prefer damp and dark spaces, right? No wonder you stay in that basement all the time.” 

He scoffs in mock indignation. “I leave the house sometimes! I'm outside right now.” 

“Yeah, in a damp, dark space.” 

Grumbling, Sebastian pokes her side, but warms at her teasing, the kind only a friend could get away with. Somehow, with her, the playful jabs feel bubbly and fun. He watches Sage as she wanders ahead, hair plastered flat and skin glistening in the faint light. 

She lets out a cry as she slips, falling forward. Without thinking, Sebastian reaches out, hooking an arm around her waist. Tumbling down the path, they land in a tangled heap, her cheek smushed against his chest. 

Groaning, Sage rubs her arm. "Oww. You okay, Seb?"

"Yeah." Placing a palm on her head, Sebastian holds her steady as he sits up, legs twined with hers. She looks at him with her wide gaze and fuck, he wants nothing more than to kiss her right there, to press her back into the soft ground and take her. 

Neither of them make any effort to move. Clearing his throat, he tears his eyes from hers and wipes a smear of mud from her arm. “You okay?” 

Sage drops her face to his shoulder, letting out a shaky laugh. “I'm terrific, thanks for asking. And thanks for catching me.” A pause. “Well, sort of.” 

The most reluctant he can remember being in ages, he stands, extracting his limbs from hers, and helps Sage to her feet. They've ended up near Pierre's. The rain falls in sheets, tinting Pelican Town a verdant green. Sebastian touches his shoulder to hers. "So, what next? The world's our oyster."

"Mmm, how about the beach? I wanna see the ocean." Sage bends to wipe debris from her bare legs. Swallowing, Sebastian notices how her sodden shirt clings to the curves of her waist and hips.

"Lead the way." He says that so he can catch her if she slips again. Definitely not so he can peek at her form. No, definitely not.

As cobblestone turns to sand, Sebastian marvels at the endless sky. Thunder rumbles, a booming echo, and he and Sage grin at each other. The ocean, an oddly calm pool of jungle green, beckons him. 

Sebastian isn't usually a swimmer, but something about the hue and otherworldly feeling in the air draws him near. He pushes through tiny waves and turns to find Sage. She's at the shore, folded in on herself.

Offering a hand, he calls to her. "What? We're already soaked. Come on, we should clean off."

On tentative feet she approaches, and clutches at his arm. "Don't let go, okay?"

She doesn't have to ask him twice. Gripping her shoulders, he guides her in. The tide swirls around them, surprisingly warm and gentle. She wades in up to her waist and stops. Startled, Sebastian realizes she's trembling. "Sage? Are you okay?"

"I'm alright. I do have a slight fear of water." She clutches her arms to her torso "But this isn't too bad. Just give me a minute to get used to it."

"We can leave if this is too much."

"No, this is good. I want to confront it, you know?"

She releases her grip on him and ventures a bit further in, gasping as she's submerged up to her chest. His heart turns soft as her fingers skim the surface, as she lets out a shaky giggle. 

Sinking to his knees, Sebastian disappears, washing his skin. He rockets up, sending spray flying into the air. A few feet off, Sage sways, eyeing him.

"We'll need to take a shower when we go home. You're still covered in mud." Sebastian splashes her, grinning. She snorts, eyes dancing with a playful gleam he can't quite identify, and his mouth goes dry. "I mean, showers. You can go first."

The smallest smirk flits over her face before she ducks beneath the sea. Emerging, she gasps, covering her mouth. "I did it! I went underwater!" She jumps, as well as she can, and embraces him. "I've never been able to do it before."

"That's great, Sage." Peering at her, Sebastian returns the hug. He doesn't know why it's such a big deal, but he’s happy for her. He's idiotically happy, as if he might burst. 

And, same as when they'd laughed together under her bed, he knows it's time to pull back before he acts on a reckless impulse. "Come on. It's midnight and we're hopped up on caffeine. Let's check out the forest."

They waddle out of the ocean, taking one last look as they cross into town, toward the forest. Sebastian snickers as they pass Sam's house. “Sam would be so pissed if he found out we were out here without him.” 

Sage tosses him an amused smile. “Our little secret, then?” 

Sebastian likes the sound of that. He likes it a lot. The entrance to the forest yawns, the sound of the downpour muted as they pass into the trees. The scent of wet earth hangs in the air.

Raindrops slide from leaves, glittering in the lamplight outside Marnie's ranch. Sage tilts her face up, catching them on her tongue, laughing, laughing open and unabashed, as a child would. 

And it strikes him, he feels young, as if he's a kid again. That free, easy sensation he rarely got to experience. Somehow, with her, he can experience that wonder. It's something he's never known. 

He's standing, stunned at the thought, when she grabs his hand, a mischievous grin on her face. 

Pulling him along, she springs forward and lands in the middle of a giant puddle. Droplets of water, tiny emeralds, fly out in slow motion as her laugh, that beautiful sound, echoes around them. 

The world is a blur, of falling rain and its soft roar, yet through it all Sage is clear, in sharp focus. And without thinking, Sebastian’s jumping with her, sending spray sparkling into the air and joy reverberating deep into his soul. They jump like children until they're breathless, until they collapse against each other again, awash in their fits of mirth.

Wiping his brow, Sebastian pulls away, watching her. Sage nearly glows in the dim light. Her hair’s plastered to her face, and bits of seaweed cover her body. Streaks of dirt paint her arms and legs. 

She's beautiful. The thought soaks into his brain and renders him speechless as she dissolves into giggles, head thrown back, gripping the sleeves of his t-shirt. The rain patters onto their bodies, warm, gentle, and steady.

Catching her breath, Sage prods his shoulder. "Hey, space cadet. Mind if we check on my animals?"

In that moment, he's pretty sure he'd follow her anywhere she asked. "Let's go."

Sebastian almost trips when they exit the forest - the grass on Sage's farm has grown at least a foot since they left only hours ago. She barrels into it with a wild expression. "More feed for my livestock! This is perfect - I won't have to buy it from Marnie." She suppresses a smile. "Sorry, Marnie."

Wading through, they pass by the fields. Sage's tomatoes are secure under the tarps, and the land is still, save for the rain’s consistent patter. As they peek into the barns, the chickens and cows sleep, peaceful in their homes. Sage sags, holding onto the doorframe. "I'm so relieved. Was worried this would hurt them."

Laughing, Sebastian pokes her shoulder. "Well, we've tasted it and swam in it, so...I think by now we can say it's safe."

"You might have a point." Sage sneezes. "I'm a bit chilly. What about you?"

"Hot as a furnace, actually, but if you're cold, we can go home."

She turns toward the farmhouse. For a moment, Sebastian's heart sinks, thinking she's about to say she'll stay at her place tonight. Instead, she snaps her attention back to him and motions toward the mountain. "Yeah, let's go home."

Home.

Their trek up is slippery, the path covered with weeds and wildflowers. Between gasps and giggles they stumble, clutching handfuls of slick grass and dodging frogs. Even the trees are overgrown, branches hanging heavy with new leaves and tendrils of moss.

Sage looks up, brushing the lush greenery. After a moment of thought, she plucks a leaf and tucks it into her pocket. Sebastian cocks his head.

"A souvenir," she says, with a wistful smile. As they arrive at the house, the rain tapers off, fading to a few stray sprinkles. Silent, they gaze once more over Pelican Town and the sea beyond. Taking a chance, Sebastian shifts closer. She doesn't move.

"You're shivering, Sage. C'mon, let's get inside."

The door and wooden floors are traitorous, squeaking as they tiptoe inside. On quiet feet, with stifled giggles, they creep downstairs and into Sebastian's basement.

"You can shower first, get rid of that chill. Fresh towels are in the closet." Passing Sage's bag to her, he watches as she disappears into his attached bathroom and closes the door. Sebastian sheds his sodden clothing and exchanges it for a t-shirt and shorts. Sinking onto his couch, he finds himself once again trying very hard not to think about the girl showering ten feet to his right.

Funny how that keeps happening.

Minutes later, she emerges in a cloud of steam, wearing pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Her hair, no longer soaked but damp, hangs in wavy clumps. She lets out a content sigh and flops beside Sebastian.

Stiffening, he realizes she carries the scent of his body wash. It elicits a reaction he'd rather not think about. "I'll shower now." Leaping to his feet, he grabs a new set of clothes and darts into the bathroom, turning the tap to the coldest temperature he can stand.

He scrubs himself with vigor, keeping his thoughts on a line of code, on cleaning the toilet, anything to keep his mind from straying where it shouldn't. As he towels off and dresses, he takes a deep, steadying breath.

She’s sitting with her back to the sofa, cuddling with Lenny when he steps out. Her half-dry hair forms little wisps, framing her face. As she bounces her leg, Sebastian notices a tattoo. "I didn't know you had ink. Can I see?" 

"Oh!" Sage extends her leg forward, foot pointed. A tall plant with pink flowers and green leaves wraps around her ankle. "It's sage. Thought it'd be funny to have my namesake put on me." Her eyes rise to meet his as he crouches and traces its lines with his fingers. "By the way, you never told me about yours."

"Ah, you mean the one on my shoulder and neck?" He pulls on the collar of his shirt, giving her a better view. Goosebumps erupt over his skin, his breath hitching, as she leans in to brush her thumb against it. "It's a wing. Partly for Mom, y'know, Robin, and partly for freedom. I dunno, I thought it was a cool concept at the time."

"I dig it. Cooler than mine, at least it's not super literal."

Sebastian flashes her a crooked smile. "Thanks. I have another, but, uh." He points to his hip, covered by his sleep pants. "It's here. A frog."

Sage beams and he feels heat tingeing his cheeks. "Sorry," she giggles, "I swear I'm not making fun of you. It's pretty cute how you love frogs so much."

And now he's definitely blushing. Clearing his throat, he covers her with a spare blanket. "Here." He slumps beside her. "Can I say something?"

Tossing him some of the covers, she nods. "Of course. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's just, tonight was fun. I felt like a little kid with you. I, uh, I didn't experience that much when I was young."

He tips his head, peering at her from the corner of his eye. It's an invitation, a hole in his walls. Sebastian's raw, his chest wrenched open as he waits for her reaction.

Sage's eyes soften. "I know what you mean. That wasn't really a thing for me either, except the few times I visited the Valley." 

She turns onto her side and studies him. "I felt it too. Like a little kid. Fun. Free." A wistful expression passes over her face. "For what it's worth...I'm glad you can be that way with me."

Swallowing hard, Sebastian mirrors her position. "Do I...do you experience that? With me, I mean."

"Experience what?"

He huffs. "I'm asking if you can be yourself. If you don't have to put on a front when you're with me."

"Oh. I've never had to put on a mask for you. I feel safe with you, Sebastian." Her gaze burns into his. "That's another thing I didn't get much of growing up."

One of his few fond childhood memories resurfaces, imprinted in his mind. He was five or six, and a biting chill had gripped Zuzu. Robin swaddled him in blankets, snug in her arms, and read How The Grinch Stole Christmas. When the Grinch's heart grew three sizes, she'd clutched at her own, laughing and tickling his side.

His chest felt warm, then, and slightly tight, as if his heart were growing, too.

And now that warmth and tightness is back, spreading through his entire body as his friend, best friend if he's honest, tells him he makes her feel safe.

Slowly, they're revealing more to each other.

She leans on his shoulder, yawning. The scent of his body wash mixed with her skin wafts through the air, wreathing around them.

Ahh, fuck it.

Sebastian grabs the remote and turns on the TV, flipping stations until he lands on a movie. Before long, Sage's breathing slows, and she slips into sleep, resting on him, her face a mask of peace.

Haha, you're so fucked. You are so, so fucked.

Peering at her, so close he can count her eyelashes, he accepts it. Hell, maybe it’s not fucked at all, but something good. As gently as possible, he picks her up, settling her into the couch's cushions. He lingers as he tucks the blanket around her, brushing his curled fingers over her cheek.

From his bed, he watches her until his lids grow heavy, still warm, soft, and vulnerable. He sleeps better than he has in months.

[scarlettgauthor]

Hello, Tumblr, and I hope you had a merry holiday (or simply enjoyed the weekend off)! I am so excited to finally share some absolutely amazing news: There's an audio book of His Secret Illuminations, and it is available for purchase now!!!

[intense, relieved, distant screaming]

I am so pumped about this you wouldn't even believe it. I started trying to produce this audio book in June of this year. June. You might note that it is now December. This is a project six months in the making. I went through multiple rounds of auditions and thought I'd found a narrator twice and both times they had to back out of recording. I exhausted everyone who sounded right at one service and went to fellow self-published fantasy author Virginia McClain for advice, and she pointed me to Antoine Bandele of AB Book Services and his roster of narrators, where I found Martin Martinez. Martin auditioned for me with a perfectly sweet Lucían and a wonderfully strong Glory. His reading was deft and playful and exactly what I'd been hoping for, and the sex scenes? Well, to quote the illustrious burlesque icon Miss Kitty Baby: "There won't be a dry seat in the house."

Please give it a listen if you're an audio book person, or tell your friends to give it a listen if you aren't. Martin really gave a beautiful performance, and I think everyone should hear the heart and soul he gave these characters. 

(People other than me definitely need to hear it. I have listened to the entire thing three times as I reviewed it, which is too many times for an author to have to be presented with their writing from three years ago in a medium where they cannot elide certain word choices they would not have made now. It's a great audio book! It really is! I never want to listen to it again!)

Ahem.

Where can I buy it?

On several platforms that audio books are sold, with more coming soon! Here are some specific places:

https://scarlettgaleauthor.com/shop/audio-books https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/his-secret-illuminations-scarlett-gale/1142856730 https://bingebooks.com/book/his-secret-illuminations https://www.scribd.com/audiobook/614996148/His-Secret-Illuminations-Their-adventure-will-test-his-skill-and-his-self-control https://libro.fm/audiobooks/9781669668374 https://www.storytel.com/se/sv/books/3683133 https://www.kobo.com/us/en/audiobook/his-secret-illuminations-2 https://play.google.com/store/audiobooks/details/Scarlett_Gale_His_Secret_Illuminations?id=AQAAAEDCkgXS1M https://www.chirpbooks.com/audiobooks/his-secret-illuminations-by-scarlett-gale  https://www.audiobooks.com/audiobook/his-secret-illuminations-their-adventure-will-test-his-skill-and-his-self-control/653033

Not at Amazon/Audible?

Not yet, anyway! It's been submitted to them for review and is still pending. The audio book will be available on Amazon... eventually.

Where should I buy it?

Wherever is easiest for you! That said, if your goal is to support me as directly as possible, please consider buying it from my website. 

It's a little more troublesome (I had to break it into five parts in order to get around the file size limit) but everything I sell on my website is DRM-free and I get the entire $24.99 cover price (minus credit card fees). Purchasing it through another platform means I only get the royalties, which end up between 20% and 50% of the cover price.

When will His Sacred Incantations be available as an audio book?

The unfortunately mercenary answer here is "As soon as I can afford to produce it." As a self-published author I am on the financial hook for anything and everything I want to do with my books. Part of the reason it took this long to get the first book produced was because I needed to save up enough to pay for the production of it. His Secret Illuminations cost about $3600, which I paid out of pocket. I expect that His Sacred Incantations will cost about the same. I hope to be able to produce it in 2023--the better my sales are, the sooner I can get started!

P.S. If I manage to sell 144 copies of this audio book through my website, that will cover almost the entire cost of producing the second book.

How can I help out?

Spread the word about the audio book! As Patrons you get the news first, but I'll be sharing this on social media in the next couple of days. Like, retweet, reblog, reshare, leave good reviews of the audio book where appropriate--all of that is a huge help to me, someone who is her own marketing department.

Thank you so much for your support! May your holidays be happy, and your winter nights warm.

[xenforce]

Prologue Edit! Centennial Bellum - LOZ Fanfic

Hiya! I just wanted to drop in and say I made a small edit to the prologue of my zelda fic. you can read this short extract below or read it on my wattpad or Archive of Our Own

I will update you whenever I make big-enough edits.

It's mostly just little refinements here and there (I'm constantly going back and critiquing my own work LOL). Please enjoy!

––

There is a legend that the people speak of – a legend passed down through countless generations. It tells of a girl and boy who were destined to meet in order to continue a cycle – a cycle that intertwined their very souls to stand beside each other in the face of war, chaos, and bloodshed. Founded on their bond since the beginning of time, this cycle would unchangingly write their fates to bring them together in a timeless battle. While fantasies and fairytales have their happy endings, this legend is many things but that. It tells of a kingdom that lost their princess and hero at the fault of a king whose greed was unmatched. The legend of a princess whose love for her hero was forbidden. The legend of a devastating war that raged on for one hundred years because the hero was simply not there. 

The Legend of Zelda, The One-Hundred-Year War.

Our legend begins in the peaceful kingdom of Hyrule where our two main characters have yet to meet...

The sun was glistening down heavenly on the peaceful market of Hyrule Castle. People all around bustled merrily as they went about their daily business, selling their wares, doing morning chores, or shopping. The young children of Castle Town were joyfully playing with the small dogs and cats running around the town.

Castle Town was a peaceful marketplace where citizens of Hyrule would come from all over the country to buy and sell. Hyrule Castle was a proud grand structure that overlooked the city. The proud town sat right outside it, hence earning the name, 'Castle Town'. The residents of the town were businessmen of all trades – blacksmiths, physicians, bakers, potion-brewers... Entertainment was never short in town. Bowling alleys, puppet shows, folkish music, and frequent festivals made the advanced settlement a place of luxury. Food and drink stalls speckled the streets, steaming with hot aromas, beaming with fresh produce of all colours, enticing both residents and visitors to buy and taste beyond what their bodies required.

Perfectly stiff guards from the castle were stationed at the gateway of the town and scattered through the midst of it, ensuring the peace remained. Apart from a few rebels and bandits from outside of town occasionally kicking up a brief uproar, the Hylians had enjoyed peace for generations. Many of them knew nothing of war, only hearing of such horrors in stories and history lessons.  

The merry sound of the civilians chattering and shuffling decked the streets. But life was not so kind to everyone in Castle Town. Amongst them, one wretched hungry teenaged boy was walking by the food bazaars tentatively peering around to see if he were being noticed. He wore a plain off-white shirt that appeared tattered and worn out, accompanied with a brown belt, trousers and short ankle boots. A black hood hid his face giving him a mysterious facade...

Continue reading here

[mrbexwrites]

Tagged by @duckingwriting here to find enlarge, coin, bill, and angel

Passing the tag over to @elbritch-kit @queen-tashie @at-thezenith @tate-lin (no pressure as always) and leaving an open invite to anyone who wants to. And YOU! Person who stumbles across this on your dash, who wants to share their WIP Snips! I pass the tag over to you as well :)

Your words are: soft, level, bloody, solid

Snippets, as always, below the cut:

Enlarge Bigger:

“Tempting men to heresy,” I tapped the crowbar against my leg as I thought. The imps were an easy win; a good way to ease myself back into the hunt after what had happened last night, but they were not going to earn me my way out of exile.  But a servant of Leviathan…that would be a bigger catch, and might earn me some goodwill. I’d just  have to find him first.

Coin(s) & Angel:

“You actually believe that?” He wiped tears from his eyes, chuckling to himself. “Why would I want souls? They aren’t a currency! I can’t buy and sell them like coins on the stock market! That’s Corporate nonsense if I’ve ever heard it.  All we want is the right to choose what we do, rather than being told how to live our lives by a Tyrant. At the end of the day, you are responsible for your actions, not me, not another demon, an angel or even the One themselves.”

Bill(s):

I kept silent, my face was strained trying to maintain the smile for Nell. Beaufort reached into his suit jacket, and I dug my fingernails into my lap, preparing to launch myself away from the table if he pulled out his gun.  Instead, a money clip, with fifty-pound bills folded neatly, was produced. He took one note out, and slid it to me.

[hiswordsarekisses]

My soul, you really need this, for your lamp will not continue to burn for long without it. Your snuff will smoke and become an offense if light is gone, and gone it will be if you run out of oil. You have no oil well springing up in your human nature, and therefore you must go to them who sell and buy for yourself, or like the foolish virgins you will have to cry, “My lamp has gone out.” Even the consecrated lamps could not give light without oil; though they shone in the tabernacle, they needed to be fed; though no rough winds blew upon them, they required to be trimmed, and your need is just as great. Under the most happy circumstances you cannot give light for another hour unless fresh oil of grace is given to you.

Not every kind of oil could be used in the Lord’s service; neither the petroleum that exudes so plentifully from the earth, nor the produce of fish, nor that extracted from nuts would be accepted; only one oil was selected, and that was the best olive oil. Pretended grace from natural goodness, fancied grace from priestly hands, or imaginary grace from outward ceremonies will never serve the true child of God; he knows that the Lord would not be pleased with rivers of such oil. He goes to the olive-press of Gethsemane and draws his supplies from Him who was crushed there. The oil of gospel grace is pure and free from sediment and dregs, and so the light that is fed by it is clear and bright. Our churches are the Savior’s golden candelabra, and if they are to be lights in this dark world, they must have plenty of holy oil. Let us pray for ourselves, our ministers, and our churches that they may never lack oil for the light. Truth, holiness, joy, knowledge, love—these are all beams of the sacred light; but we cannot send them out into the darkness unless in private we receive oil from God the Holy Spirit.

~ Spurgeon

[wuxiaphoenix]

Worldbuilding: The Tax Man Cometh

Ah, tax season. That time of year when the weather is veering from cold to thunderstorms and otherwise upset, but not nearly as upset as the harrowed souls tangling with the labyrinth that is the U.S. tax code.

Mine needed at least eight separate sheets of paper (any amount of royalties counts as self-employed and that is a lot of paperwork), meaning I always bring the envelope to the post office directly to be weighed and have correct postage applied. If the government loses my forms again, it’s not going to be a fault on my end.

...I had someone ask what I was doing as I was photocopying said forms at the library. Evidently it wasn’t obvious.

“Why would you want to do that?”

In case the government loses the originals. Again.

“But that would never happen!”

For a moment I could only blink at her, because this lady was at least a decade or so older than me, meaning way more than old enough to know better. Because it has to me in the past. On at least three separate occasions. How do people sail through life this oblivious?

...Anyway. If you have a government in your world, you have taxes. Even if it’s something as simple as “I’m the head of this clan, I get first pick of everything.” How taxes are collected, and what they’re used for, make a big difference in how your society works, whether or not trade and technological advancement are supported or discouraged, how upset people are with the government in general, and how much power they have to do anything about it.

One of the ways taxes make a big difference is, are they collected in kind, in a specific produced thing, or in money? In a lot of Asian countries, for example, taxes were often historically collected in rice. In the short term this was relatively convenient for the government, which could assess land for its potential rice production and assign taxes accordingly; not to mention acquiring the rice necessary to feed the court, with extra to sell for everything else. But there are several potential problems. Bad weather and famine years would hit marginal farmers with a double whammy; they couldn’t produce enough rice to pay their own taxes, and they couldn’t buy enough food to stay alive. In contrast good years meant the price of rice dropped and the government was suddenly short of cash. Demanding taxes in rice instead of money also forces more people to stay in agriculture, even if the area is better suited to, say, herding, fishing, or long-distance trade. And one of the things about taxing in rice that was particularly convenient to the Tokugawa Shogunate starting out bit them in the rear big-time over two centuries later.

I’m going to elaborate on this because it’s interesting, especially if you’re a Rurouni Kenshin fan. If you’ve looked into the Bakumatsu, you know two of the major drivers of it were the Satsuma and Choushu domains. What you may not know is that when Tokugawa Ieyasu assigned domains and assessed taxes for the Shogunate (which were then mostly followed for centuries after), is that those two domains in particular had been very hard-hit by the Onin War a century before the whole Tokugawa takeover, and thus had lost a lot of farms, and on top of that had land that was otherwise undeveloped. So... their taxes were assessed relatively low, compared to the farmland they potentially had.

Mind, it took them two centuries to realize the whole potential of what they had. But the Shogunate kept on trucking with the same assessed taxes, counting on alternate attendance to keep the daimyo too poor to make trouble. And eventually Choshu and Satsuma... weren’t that poor. And other nations were knocking on the doors, able and willing to sell firearms, among other things....

Taxes, like everything else government does, have consequences. Give them some thought for your world!

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day.

Welcome to the working week although, for those of you working in the NHS, welcome to just another day.

Friday night was pretty chilled. It was too hot to do anything, really! The Americans think we’re mad for not having air-conditioning in our homes but, realistically, how often is the weather like this? I sleep naked and, on Thursday and Friday night, it was so hot, I didn’t even bother getting under the duvet!

Many thanks to everyone that listened to ‘The A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’ live or listened to the recording on Mixcloud. Most people were probably thinking, “How the hell is he going to fill two hours with The Letter Q?” Well, as it goes, it was a really good blend of tunes! Hope you enjoyed it? Thanks for all your fabulous feedback!

I’m away for Saturday, September 16th, so The Letter R begins on September 23rd. Many thanks to Marcia Haynes G-Champion for being the executive producer on Part One.

Straight after the show, I caught some hot, sweaty underground trains to Camden Town. I didn’t know where the Mi-Soul stage was. I thought to myself, “I’ll just follow the music.” I needn’t have worried. Came out of the tube station and the Mi-Soul stage was right there! Camden Council had shut off Camden High Street for the day. Drivers must have been properly upset! Anyway, who cares about them? Big-up to Camden Council for pedestrianizing the whole area for the day!

The Mi-Soul stage was killing it, as usual! When I got there, just before 5.00, it was still 32 degrees but people were consuming lots of fluids and having a good time. By the time I finished my set, I was done for the day and most of the crowd looked knackered too! Well, they had been drinking and dancing for seven hours! I trudged wearily to Camden Road and caught my train home. Thankfully, my son had made a ton of ‘finger good’ (spring rolls, goujons, fried shrimp, sausage rolls etc.) which I gobbled down greedily and immediately fell asleep!

Didn’t watch the England v. Ukraine game. No West Ham players in the squad. What’s the point?

Congratulations to Ezra Collective for picking up the Mercury Prize 2023. Every school should have music classes, so that kids can catch the music-making bug and hopefully become as good as these brilliant young musicians. The other thing I love above Ezra Collective is they are genuinely genre-defying. You could try to put them in a jazz bag but that would totally be ignoring the funk, salsa, soca and afrobeat. Don’t stream their music! Buy a vinyl or CD album, so the band make some money!

Sunday was brilliant! The Trouble was out at a local craft fair selling jewellery. My son took The Mighty Josiah to a cool, garden party. I had the house to myself. Love that! I made lunch, watched a movie, then got on with some marking. I actually hope to be finished my marking by Tuesday evening so, when I get to the hotel, I can just eat, sleep and swim!

Hope your week goes well? I shall be saying my atheist prayers for you. Have a marvellous and momentous Monday. I love you all.

[weatherman667]

The worst thing about Primaris Marines is not that they are Mary Sues that swallowed the setting whole, it’s that they are uninspired.  It seems like the only way GW could think to add anything new to the setting was to make the Space Marines more Space Marine.  They then had the Indominatus Crusade that managed to created no new Chapters with battle honours.  They then add them to all of the chapters, completely annihilating the millennia of honours they have.

They then decided to have the Devastation of Baal, which makes no sense.  It makes as much sense as the US dropping multi-million dollars bombs on Afghanistan.  As a comedian said, the for the first time in history, the bombs we are using are worth more than the things we are bombing.

You can’t devastate Baal, as it’s already devastating.  You can devastate the Blood Angels successor chapter called Blood Angels.  And then you know what they would do?, take some from all of the other Blood Angels successor chapters to rebuild it.  It would be a fantastic chance to sell a bunch of new chapter badges and characters.  When they rewrote the chapter fanout, they fucked up, because they didn’t include a Death Company.

Oh, wait, Primaris Marines are free from the chapter flaws.  Now, this isn’t just about them being better, it’s about the fact that narratively, flaws and wounds are what define a character.  You don’t have a Blood Angels chapter without a Death Company.  You don’t have Space Wolves without alcoholism.  The only ones the Primaris represent are the Ultramarines.

This is also incredibly important for the meta, as the Blood Angels successor chapter named Blood Angels is the template for all of the other Blood Angel successor chapters.  So, not only are the Primaris Marines not to make a quick buck, they are losing money, as one of their biggest chapters just lost any interesting thing about it.

If they wanted to make money:

Keep the Primaris Codex separate from the Astartes Codex.

Create Primaris Chapters, and give them their own unique natures.

I was actually about the buy the codex and start on Blood Angels models when they ruined the chapter, and literally forced me to buy the Primaris Codex with the Astartes one.  I was like, okay, my next favourite would be Vostroyan Firstborn, which they don’t produce any more.

When I first got into 40k, I started looking up Squat lore, and absolutely loved it, (Dwarves are always my favourite fantasy race), only to find out they have been REDACTED.

Yes, Squats are back, but I’m not holding my breath.  There was a single phrase.  Not even a single sentence that bothered me, but a single phrase

“regardless of gender”

Now, 40k is notoriously absent of gender roles.  Astartes can only be male, biologically.  Sororitas can only be female, legally.  The Golden Boys and Sisters of Silence.

Then there’s basically Banshees and Genestealer Patriarchs.

Other than that, EVERY SINGLE POSITION in the setting doesn’t care if you are male or female.  They have female-only Militarum regiments, (that GW refuses to make models for), Inquisitors, Farseers, etc.  Presumably Necrons have gender, or at least had one before they had their souls transplanted into machine bodies.

There is one caveat, that they are adding gender roles to the new Squat society,  but then it would only seem to be there to be subverted.  The only logical conclusion is going woke.

[10shi-256]

Why did I make this blog?

I've fallen into a habit that many people are guilty of, and, in fact, we are essentially being socially engineered into adopting this habit as a standard set of behavior. I do feel like there is some intentional mechanism steering us towards this behavior, turning us into socioeconomic and political cattle that can be herded one way or another. This gluttony for aesthetics has bottlenecked our intrinsic creative cycles and, in some cases, killed our empathy in pursuit of feeding that hunger.

Allow me to explain in reverse. I believe that the "creative cycle" is a simple loop of production and consumption. We input (read:consume) raw data. Information. Everything we intake with our senses is stored in some way in our minds. But it's not solidified yet. We know what these things are but we don't know how to feel about it. The concepts of the things we have experienced remain in a plastic form until we output (read: produce) a simulacrum of our experiences as only we can relate them, through our unique perspectives. But something has now changed. The version of that concept as we have output it is different than the fundamental, mutable concept that was in our heads. The concept solidifies into the image that we have produced. This is how we process any information we receive, even on the simplest level. Take, for instance, a flower you've observed on a walk. You see it, and it compels your thoughts. "That's a really pretty flower." The action of putting that thought into words is an act of production, no matter how simple. Why use the word "pretty" in place of "beautiful," "alluring," or "captivating?" Why is it a "really" pretty flower, instead of a "very" pretty flower? or just a "pretty" flower? It is healthy and necessary to say what we mean and mean what we say, therefore we should not shy away from eloquence.

So what happens when this cycle that defines the post-industrial human condition is interrupted? When we become stuck in an endless phase of consumption, we lose our ability to convey how we feel about anything, and thus lose our ability to know and understand the world around us. We essentially lose our souls. But who would do such a horrid thing?! Simply, anyone who wants to sell you something with no risk of you deciding for yourself that this isn't something you want to buy. Someone who wants to guide your thought into a direction that you would have otherwise judged against. They would have us become puppets, sheep, opiated masses, whatever ages-old allegory you're more familiar with.

When we scroll for hours, mindlessly sharing things that pique our interest without using that information for anything productive, we are building that dam more and more solidly. It must be broken. So I would like to begin breaking the dam I've built for myself. I want to surf the internet more slowly. When I come across something that piques my interest, I want to dive in and explore its fullest depths and understand why my interest is piqued, what can I do with my newfound knowledge, and hopefully inspire someone else with the research I've gathered. This will be my space to do so. My greatest hope? To invite someone to a dialogue and compare my perspective with theirs. Sharing and exchanging ideas is how we continue to grow internally. I don't ever want to stop growing.

[cetaceanhandiwork]

Irene “Vigilant Greengrocer” Povey

They say...

“How does the Vigilant Greengrocer stock real vegetables at such prices? What was she haggling over with that devil? And did she really fistfight a tiger?”

Ask Irene Povey what she does for a living, and she'll tell you she runs a produce shop down in Spite, where you can purchase herbs, fruits, and vegetables for jade. Yes, it's the real stuff, not fungal imitations. Investigate further, and you'll find that she sells it for well under what you normally pay to import perishables from the Surface... and yet, somehow, she's not been shut down by the Special Constables for skirting the Bazaar's import duties. She claims this is because her wares aren't subject to the usual tariff, but as she's not clarified why, the running theory is that she has friends in high places keeping her out of trouble.

Unlike many in London who clamor and scrabble to be seen as "notable", Irene seems to deliberately avoid the spotlight, making waves in polite society only occasionally and then slinking back out of Slowcake's the next month. But that's enough for talk to get around regardless. The gossips of the Palace, if asked, might tell you of her predilection for “friendly” debates in Court when she's feeling sociable, or of her archaeological work in the Forgotten Quarter, or of her weird-romance serials, or - with no little disdain - of her habit of mixing with rubberies, devils, tomb-colonists, and other unsavory sorts. A few will even tell you about that time she was at a ball and wore a daring enough dress to reveal the unsettling tattoo of jungle undergrowth on her left upper arm, or the infamous guest lecture she gave at Benthic University that somehow led to a minor outbreak of choreomania. No, while she may be accepted among the great and the good (she's got her share of quiet supporters, particularly among the clergy) there's no denying that her reputation in polite society is more "bizarre" than "respectable".

But she is also known in impolite society - among the devils and dastards of the Soul Trade - as a significant but baffling figure: one of the few red-blooded humans who seems to be buying souls without any intention of reselling them. What's more, nobody seems to know what she does with them. Her preference for dealing in bulk implies to some that she's smuggling them across the Unterzee to pay for her produce, but the Widow's agents and the Cheery Man's enforcers have never heard of her encroaching on their territory, and dockers - when they're willing to testify about a beloved veteran of the Wolfstack Strike at all - will tell you that she spends much more time in the Forgotten Quarter on archaeological digs than at Zee. Others have suggested that she's working with the C.V.R., but that would hardly explain her ongoing interest in acquiring "souls of exceptional quality", nor her frequent appearances at the Discerning Deviless's salon.  She's fielded numerous offers, frequent flattery, and the occasional threat from devils attempting to get in on her racket, but her reply is always the same: "I'll only speak plainly about my business to a Devil who'll speak plainly about theirs." So far, apparently, none have met that bar, at least not to her satisfaction.

[everalii]

Btw, I need to update a few thingsssssss....

Business

My business is thriving little by little. I had to buy so many products for the treatments, and it is paying off so good. Many clients are happy, and they feel safe here. Women come for facials and they pour their souls, I had so many of them crying, hugging me seeking validation.

This is how its supposed to be: healing for the body, healing for the heart and healing for the soul.

I had a high school friend (nor stranded, we kept in touch) working with me as a nail tech bc she lost her job and wanted to pursue this career. But she has a son, which is not a problem for me (I'll elaborate later). The problem was the fact that: 1 she changed my entire color pallette without asking but I went along; 2 she came for like a week and then her products were rotting untouched for about a month, she wasn't coming to the clinic bc she didn't had money or clients, which comes to the following item; 3 she wasn't posting anything on social media, wasn't selling any of her procedures and not bringing anyone to the clinic, which was the main reason of why I agreed to lended the place: to get me more visibility and more clients.

When I had enough and kicked her out, she called me a bitch and said I wasn't helping her, I had no empathy for our years of friendship nor for her child. Did I mention that I didn't charge her any rent for the room in MY CLINIC? No? Well... I stated it was 100% professional and not personal matter, but she wanted to turn personal. She can fight with herself in the mirror.

She got her stuff out my clinic and sold her things. Blocked me on every social media and I couldn't care less. I'm good working on my own.

Family

Husband never wanted kids and didn't wanted to be with someone who wanted. Having children wasn't a big thing on my to do list, but I thought it would be nice. However, since it wasn't a great goal of mine, I decided to let it go for the sake of my relationship and I'm very okay with it.

No, he didn't force me. No, he didn't threaten me. He even asked me if I truly wanted bc he would have a child with me to fulfill this "dream." But with global warming, the economy breaking and everything, bringing a child to this world was not a good move, in my opinion, so I truly let it go.

HOWEVER, the gods truly had another plan, as they shoved a 12y girl into my arms. My cousin got the custody of his daughter, but he's recovering from drug addiction, working full-time, and financially broken. Her mother is a junkie and sells her body for drugs.

I decided to step in and help my cousin, and usually, she spent her days here. I take her to and pick her up from school, help with homework, teach her how to cook, sew, play videogames, draw, clean. Take her to the theaters, movies, and concerts.

My husband adores her and spoils the little shit rotten. He's teaching her about mechanics, how to ride a bicycle, and even how to fight in case she needs to defend herself.

She'd blossomed here, and I love her so much. We truly feel like she's our daughter, and she always says how much she loves us.

Even tho I'm not going back in my decision of not producing children, I feel like a childless mother, but the gods found a motherless child for me.

Family is now complete. Oh, and my mother is really a grandma for her!

Spiritual

I've been playing around with my Tarot Deck and we're on good terms, finally.

For context: I have the opinion that oracules are not just tools, but have spirits associated with, every deck has a spirit that talks to you through the cards, much like an Ouija Board; that being said, the spirit that resides in my deck is a hot-headed prick. And usually he's very cruel with me. I don't know if I'm schizophrenic or if I can really hear said spirit shouting at me when I ask something really stupid to the deck.

Also, I'm working with Orixás¹ now, specially Oxóssi² and Iansã³. The Orixás are gods from the Umbanda, a religion born in Brazil with african ancestry, it's based on love, freewill and spread good.

Pronunciation: ¹Orish-As, ²Oshoh-SI, ³Yan-SAN.

Health

Lol what health? Fibromyalgia has been deadly lately due to the heat waves on Brazil. And given my new environmentalist nature worrying about the global warming, my mental health is nit very good. But I'm trying really hard!

I've managed to raise a few people to plant as many trees we could. So far, 200 new trees have been planted and I'm so proud, tomorrow we'll be plating another 30, and mobilizing more people!

We might die due to the overheating in this planet, but we'll die fighting.

I guess that's it, the most important things.

[lionellistuff]

Media Reflection

I will be discussing my frequent encounters with Studio Ghibli paraphernalia and my recent viewing of Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away as it pertains to media representation of Japan.

Throughout my Time in Japan, I have often come across stores commercializing the enormous popularity of Studio Ghibli and its most famous movies produced by Japan’s legendary animation grandmaster, Hayao Miyazaki. Most every place that sells souvenirs or gifts will sell memorabilia from the movies. Mugs, folders, keychains, bags, figurines, thimbles, etc. from these famous movies. I myself indulged in buying a few reprinted images from Howl’s Moving Castle, and Spirited Away, which are both some of my favorite films as well.

I also recently had enough free time to rewatch Spirited Away, which is widely regarded as Miyazaki’s masterpiece. It was poignant, nostalgic, soul piercing as usual, and I can see why it is so popular. Miyazaki captures lightning in a bottle and inspires childlike wonder in his audience. Spirited Away more than any movie I can think of touches on so many different themes, and there’s 1,000 different ways to see the movie. Its characters are all colorful and endearing, and both the Japanese dub and English dub have aged very well 22 years later.

Academic reflection section

Studio Ghibli’s films contribute immensely to Japan’s “soft power” or exportation of its culture. Though distinctly Japanese in nature, Hayao Miyazaki’s characters have mass appeal for their depth. Even Spirited Away is a compelling account of Chihiro’s coming of age. By the end of the film she has fully matured into someone capable of assertive self advocacy and decision making.

Miyazaki’s films, while inspired by Shinto and Buddhist tradition are innovative in that all of them are his original creations. Miyazaki’s respect and stewardship for the natural environment is a frequent theme in his films as well. Princess Mononoke is a full-throated defense of environmental protection, as well as a compelling and insightful critique of man’s nature and the human condition. Princess Mononoke makes heavy use of the animistic tendencies of Shintoism, through its storyline which includes ancient boar gods, and other supernaturally powerful forest creatures.

One aspect of Miyazaki’s films is his very Japanese way of writing characters. Often the distinction between protagonist and antagonist is difficult to distinguish. Characters are more grey, we watch them self advocate and grow as people have to do in the real world.

While Miyazaki’s films aren’t intended to be accurate representations of Japan as it exists today, they act as Japan’s representation abroad. They contribute to the romanticization of Japan in the minds of many people outside the country, and they put Japan on a pedestal. It certainly has done so for me, I can remember wanting to go to Japan from a young age after seeing Spirited Away.

Some, however, critique this projection of Japan. Some academics argue that viewing Japan through the lense of animated fantasy movies makes Japan appear childish, puerile, flippant, and feminine. However, I disagree. I think that Miyazaki has mastered the art of animation. His films offer a powerful and uplifting narrative that has lifted Japan’s international perception out if the stodgy, stiff and suffocating society that loves rules and regulations, into one which is creative and spiritual, one which can offer unique insight into the human condition.

I can, however, appreciate criticism of the commercialisation of Studio Ghibli’s stories. I don’t think that Hayao Miyazaki ever set out to build a media empire, or become the Walt Disney of Japan. I think he wanted to create art which could speak to people, and the cosmic expansion of his success has cheapened it slightly. But, I am very glad that we have a legend like Miyazaki. His stories helped make me who I am, and I know others would agree.

[cyarsk52-20]

Ariana Madix Is Selling ‘F—k Me in This T-shirt’ Merchandise Following Tom Sandoval’s Reunion Comment

Life & Style Staff

Thu, June 8, 2023 at 6:53 AM EDT·3 min read

In this article: 

Vanderpump Rules star Ariana Madix is not letting her cheating ex Tom Sandoval get the last laugh. After fans learned several bombshell revelationsduring the season 10 reunion finale, the Buying Back My Daughter actress released some brand-new merchandise in reference to something the Tom Sandoval & The Most Extras vocalist said about her on air. Keep reading to learn the meaning behind Ariana’s merchandise. 

What Is the Meaning of Ariana Madix’s T-shirt Merchandise? 

During the last several minutes of the explosive reunion finale, which aired on June 7 on Bravo, Tom nonchalantly dissed Ariana for wearing her T-shirt while they would have sex during their relationship, saying sarcastically, “She kept her T-shirt on, it was really hot.” 

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After the entire cast reacted by calling him “disgusting,” Ariana kept calm and later shared a photo of new merchandise for her and costar Katie Maloney’s sandwich shop, Something About Her. The T-shirt features a caricature graphic of what appears to be her face tearing apart a grilled cheese sandwich with the words, “F—k Me in This T-shirt,” written in red font. 

What Does Lala Kent’s ‘Send It to Darrell’ Merchandise Mean? 

In March, Lala Kent shared a public message forRaquel Leviss via her Instagram Stories after the former Miss Sonoma County’s lawyer contacted the Pump Rules cast via email to delete the sexually explicit video of Raquel on Tom’s phone. 

“Raquel, tell your little Mickey Mouse lawyer that if he has stuff to send over, he can send things to my lawyer, same with the rest of my friends and cast alright?” Lala said in her since-deleted video. “I don’t know if you know how this works, you’re pretty brand new to the game — didn’t last long look what you did with your f–king 15 minutes. You have something to send over, you can send it to my lawyer. That’s why we have counsel.”

Lala then ended the clip by telling Raquel and her lawyer to “send it to Darrell.” 

In May,  the “Give Them Lala” podcast host released her brand of merchandise simply called, “Send it to Darrell,” which included athleticwear, coffee mugs and water bottles. 

What Happened in the ‘Pump Rules’ Season 10 Reunion? 

In the last few minutes of part 3 of the VPR season 10 reunion, Raquel revealed the actual timing of her and Tom’s affair, admitting that they had actually slept together more than once while in Mexico for Scheana Shay’s wedding. 

During her confessional, the California native noted that Tom had asked her “not to disclose” what she was about to unveil. 

“The second time was actually during Mexico,” she admitted. “I was like, ‘We can’t see each other. This isn’t gonna be a thing.’” 

However, after allegedly helping out a drunken Tom while at their Cancun hotel, Raquel welcomed him into her room. In response to a producer who asked if they “had sex multiple times in Mexico,” she confirmed that this was true. 

Despite trying to keep a brave face throughout her confessional, Raquel became emotional when she confessed to hooking up with Tom in his and Ariana’s home in Valley Village, California. 

“That’s the one story we agreed on getting straight,” she began while tearing up. “And I know that the reason why Tom wanted to lie about it is because it’s a really bad look to hook up with someone’s boyfriend in their own house when they’ve gone out of town especially for a funeral of all things. So, I don’t know, but this just f—king kills my soul. I’m so sick of lying

Sent from my iPhone

[rangedreign]

If you’re willing to share I would be interested in hearing why you believe piracy is good, especially your opinions around art. I’ve heard many opposite perspectives and am on the fence about this, interested in hearing your thoughts, thx!

essentially it's because i don't see privilege of access as a valid thing to charge for

you can charge for labor and/or material goods

digital files require no materials to copy, you've already paid for digital storage and your electric bill

most digital files for sale do require labor to produce, but charging for them after they're made does not equal charging for labor. if your labor goes up in value every time someone buys a finished product, that doesn't make sense. it already exists, so anyone should be able to have it.

these principles do run into problems when it comes to updates and bug fixes, but i think it'd be reasonable to charge if you put up a list of what changes/fixes the customer is funding (a sort of- we guarantee this will happen if we meet this goal); as it stands there is NO guarantee of updates if you pay for something (my personal gripes atm are realistic paint studio and pokemon scarvio) also it makes crowdfunding the best way to get any big project to exist

this is more based on idealized thinking over realistic thinking- if every artist followed these principles in the world today even more would be struggling financially

but it would work and be just in a society where people don't starve and freeze and die if they aren't making enough money- personally i think it's worth it to conduct myself in accordance with these principles right now because i have enough of a safety net

i charge for commissions, i might sell physical paintings (were it possible to make exact replicas for free i would let people do that), and if i ever make a huge project i'd put it up on itch.io with optional payment. i'd never do an exclusive subscription thing.

tbh if i can't spend my time making anything i please, i'd prefer to have a job that has nothing to do with my art. it would hurt my soul to spend all my time making other people's stories- or kill it to make advertisements.

i encourage people to shift their understanding of 'artist' as a career description to more of a hobbyist description. i promise sacrificing your career for others' access to art will be worth it.