#you are not defined by arbitrary ratings. you are not defined by arbitrary ratings.

[sleebyconfy]

you are not defined by arbitrary ratings and grades.

you are worthy of respect and rest and joy, regardless of any superficial judgements others make of you.

you are worthy because you are alive and here.

sometimes things are out of your control, and it is ok and healthy to let them go and no longer worry about them after acknowledging them.

when things are out of your control and are unimportant in the grand scheme of things, no amount of panic and anger and guilt will fix it, and it is good and ok to turn your attention and energy towards other things.

[thefreakandthehair]

I am a river / I am your river

written for ‘pool’ | wc: 442 | rated: m | cw: fake drowning (for training purposes) | @steddiemicrofic

It’s stupid. 

Steve’s been a lifeguard every summer since landing his teaching gig four years ago. He was co-captain of the swim team in high school, he’s spent more time in the water than he has on land since he was old enough to doggy-paddle, and he teaches basic CPR to the junior lifeguards. It makes no sense, then, that he’s wasting a valuable mid-summer Tuesday at the community pool for his biennial CPR certification class. At what point does experience trump arbitrary certification renewals? 

It’s stupid– until it’s not. 

Steve sees the fake-victim he’s supposed to pretend-rescue walking toward the pool and his own heart skips a few beats. Long, dark, curly hair sits in a messy bun on top of his head, tattoos litter his arms, chest, and torso visible with no shirt to cover them, and his swim trunks are just short enough to tease Steve with defined, hairy thighs. 

His immediate thought is a desperate need to bite them but he doesn’t have time to unpack that before the instructor starts barking instructions. 

“Rescuer, ready?”

“Ready.” Steve replies, trying to focus on the goal here. The goal being Rescue the fake drowning victim as much as Do not pop a boner mid-pool.

“Victim, ready?” 

“As ever.” Fake Victim’s voice is deeper than Steve expects and that does Steve zero favors in the way of his secondary goal.

“Go ahead and get ready to submerge, all the way to the bottom.”

“Alright,” the instructor turns to Steve. “Get him out onto the concrete and start CPR procedures. Thirty seconds. On my whistle.”

The whistle blows and Steve reacts immediately. It’s second nature, jumping into the pool and into action. He’s done this dozens of times between training and real emergencies, so swimming out to the center and pulling Fake Victim up onto his back at the surface takes no time at all. 

He must be an actor, or maybe a former theater kid, because he’s limp in Steve’s hands, complete dead weight. Steve would be concerned he’s actually nearly drowned if not for the one eye that cracks open and smirk that stretches across his face. 

“Hi handsome, come here often?” He teases with a wink before Steve reaches the edge and hauls him up onto the concrete, laying him on his back. 

Steve leans over and tries to focus, water falling from his hair in thick droplets as he gets in position for faux chest compressions and grins. “Oh, you know, just when I need to rescue pretty boys.”

Fake Victim’s eyebrows shoot up beneath his bangs as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m Eddie.”

[bonefall]

the whole thing with the author defending (?) tom the wife beater is so repulsive, and then you read it again and i don’t think bumble is mentioned ONCE. she scrounges for sympathy with turtle tail, but the other one? the fat, useless, other one? forget her! (this is negative towards the authors, i adore the better bones stuff, esp how bumble is treated. vote bumble :) )

I really cannot get over it... to angrily write out a whole screed on how the strongest punishment is regret and not consequence, compare the sentiment of a reader that "Tom didn't deserve heaven" to his physical abuse of Turtle Tail, and then not even mention his other crimes of kidnapping and torture.

Even in death, Bumble isn't important enough to mention. As the books continue, they even continue to only mention her death as an unfortunate accident, or evidence of why kittypets can't join Clans. Even though she was MURDERED.

I think the statement is a good exercise in the difference between a post advocating rehabilitative justice, and abuse apologia just dressed up as it.

There IS a point to be made about how the idea of a Hell/Prison just makes bad people worse. We often have a desire to punish, because we FEEL better getting catharsis seeing A Bad Guy suffer like they hurt others. But that alone doesn't really fix or address a problem.

For example, it's really common to feel that kind of revulsion at a drug addict who robs a convenience store for money. Does it actually reduce addiction rates, or undo the trauma of the assaulted cashier, or help prevent it from ever happening again to throw the robber in a broken prison where they come out, 7 years later, with no rehabilitation?

The answer is no. It didn't help anyone. 7 years pass and he's still addicted to substances, possibly even worse, because prison just made his life shittier. As a leftist we can recognize that compassion is usually the answer.

(Unless, of course... someone needs to be removed from a position of power or actively prevented from attacking others. Violence is the answer sometimes.)

But the thing is, the author didn't SAY that. What they did was compare the impulse for catharsis, to TOM'S DESIRE TO BEAT HIS WIFE.

NO, those are NOT the same thing. Your desire for comeuppance towards a wifebeater character getting a redemption reward for "saving his child" after a long life of cruelty without consequences, is NOT THE SAME as Tom the Wifebeater inflicting pain and suffering on people out of spite.

She had to phrase it in the worst possible way for this argument to even LOOK like it made sense. "She broke HIS rule of Don't Be Mean To Tom" vs "He broke YOUR rule of Don't Be Mean To Turtle Tail." And "Now he's being taught how to be lovely"

Physical abuse, emotional abuse, and kidnapping are not "being mean" and it's both sick and insightful that she'd call it that

Domestic abuse is not a "failure to be lovely," it's the act of harming your family or partner to control them.

Tom the Wifebeater is a character who was not written with a scrap of nuance. He is not a real person. All they did with him was consistently show how much pleasure hurting people gives him, then say him dying for his biokid absolved everything

So in this series where you establish there are Born Evil Truly Malicious people (ONE EYE IS IN THE SAME BOOK), but then turn around to cry that Tom the Wifebeater can be made lovely off-screen...

You end up saying that domestic abuse isn't in your arbitrary "evil" category.

And that's so fucking fitting for the arc of Clear Sky's "redemption," where the same book ends off on Thunder saying that his abusive, woman-killing dad wasn't so bad all along because he's not like One Eye.

The answer's just that simple. They don't think male abuse is all that terrible because it's the same as an impulse; explicitly not malice. So it doesn't make you "evil," and only "evil" people deserve the Dark Forest.

(Dont question the Dark Forest as a concept or how starclan defines evil though :x dont worry about it :x)

[take-the-hidden-paths]

HIDDEN PATHS: A Celebration of the Smaller Tolkien Canons

Hello, and welcome to Hidden Paths, a fortnight-long event dedicated to the celebration of smaller Tolkien canons!

We all know and love the tales of Tolkien's Middle-earth, but the Professor's creative and academic endeavours didn't stop there.  However, fanworks for smaller Tolkien canons (such as Farmer Giles of Ham, Mr. Bliss, Leaf by Niggle and more) are much rarer than works inspired by their Middle-earth counterparts.  This event was created to be a low-pressure, low-commitment opportunity to explore those lesser known works, and create and share fanworks based on them.

Define “smaller Tolkien fandoms”. 

Basically, any Tolkien canon or text (including academic works and translations) that is not explicitly set in Middle-earth and is not based on The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, or The Silmarillion and closely related histories.  This includes, but is not limited to:

Beowulf/Sellic Spell

Farmer Giles of Ham

The Fall of Arthur

The Father Christmas Letters

Finn and Hengest

The Homecoming of Beorhtnoth Beorhthelm's Son

The Lay of Aotrou and Itroun

Leaf by Niggle

The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún

Mr. Bliss

Mythopoeia

The Notion Club Papers

Pearl

Roverandom

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Sir Orfeo

Songs for the Philologists

Smith of Wootton Major

The Story of Kullervo

Tolkien (2019 film)

Tolkien's essays, poems, letters and non-ME artwork

We also accept fanworks based on The Adventures of Tom Bombadil (because it collects a number of poems that were not originally intended as part of the Middle-earth canon) and The Book of Lost Tales (because it differs so significantly from later versions of the legendarium), and/or centring characters or concepts that only appear in extremely early drafts of The Lord of the Rings (e.g. Trotter).  

We know that this leaves a bit of a grey area, but ultimately, we will trust and accept the judgement of fanwork creators.  Act in good faith, and assume that others have done the same. 

How does it work? 

At the start of the event (14th February) the mod will post seven optional prompts to inspire you.  There will be a thematic prompt, a character-based prompt, a setting-based prompt, a text prompt, a visual prompt, an audio prompt, and a wildcard prompt.  A second batch of prompts will be posted on the 21st. 

If you like the prompts, then use any or all of them to create and share a fanwork based on one or more small Tolkien canons.  If they don't speak to you, then please feel free to do your own thing – the prompts are there to spark creativity, not impede it! 

What types of fanworks do you accept? 

Anything you like.  Fic, poetry, meta, art, edits, vids, podfic, craft, cosplay, rec lists, playlists, compositions, interviews with fellow fans...it's all good. 

Are there any minimum requirements? 

No, none.  Want to write a six-word story?  Be our guest. 

Are crossovers permitted? 

Yes!  We accept crossovers with the Middle-earth canons, and with non-Tolkien fandoms.  We only ask that one of the smaller Tolkien canons plays a significant role in your fanwork. 

What do you consider a significant role? 

We don't.  The event is intended to be low commitment and low stress for both participants and the moderator, and we trust that people will act in good faith.  We are not going to police fanworks or apply an arbitrary definition of “significant” - we leave that up to the creator to decide. 

Does actor RPF count? 

For the purposes of this event, no it doesn't, unless you are also drawing on elements from a smaller canon (e.g. Liv Tyler encountering the Shadow-Bride).

Where do I post my fanworks? 

We have an AO3 collection, but you may post your fanworks anywhere you like.  We'd appreciate a link back to our Dreamwidth or Tumblr page, though, to spread the word about the event! 

Are there any restrictions on rating or content? 

Nope.  Tag and warn appropriately, as you normally would, but make whatever your heart desires. 

Can I post fanworks that were inspired by or created for another event, or created prior to the event's inception? 

Yes!  The goal is to celebrate and increase content for the smaller Tolkien fandoms.  Please feel free to share your creations and add them to the collection, regardless of whether they were created specifically for this event. 

I want to take part but I don't know anything about the smaller canons.  Help!?

Tolkien Gateway has helpfully collated a list of Tolkien's writings, and some of the articles reproduce or link to the actual text.  This is a great place to start browsing, and to find out more about a text before you invest in your own copy.

Have a look at fanworks for some of the smaller canons and see what appeals.  Innumerable Stars and TRSB both have several works for the smaller canons in their collections, and many of them can be understood with no prior knowledge of the source material.

Lists of characters appearing in the various texts and canons can also be a useful jumping off point - like this one for The Book of Lost Tales.

Many of the smaller canons are just that - small!  If you can get hold of a copy from your local library, book store or from a fellow fan, they are generally quick to read and digest.

If anyone has any other ideas and resources for folks wanting to dip a toe into the smaller canons, please get in touch so they can be added to this list. 

When does the event run? 

Officially, February 14th-28th.  Unofficially, as long as you like; the prompts will stay up and the AO3 collection won't close.

[marc--chilton]

(mgv) WOAH OK I JUST GOT BREAKING NEWS ON MGV BIOLOGY!!! KIND OF GROSS!!! INTERESTING TOO (update: i've been typing for at least one straight hour)

re: the term "litters" (disclaimer i am not in the medical field but i do like to look at diagrams) (second disclaimer this ended up being an anatomy lesson i am sorry ? )

okay so i have been wondering this entire time about the actual reproductive capabilities of people in the mgv. and where "litters" come from if (depending on the creator's own canon i guess) most folk are just having single babies. that's how it goes for my version of it anyway. so where do "litters" come in??

first we look at how doctors would define sex at birth, just male or female. OBVIOUSLY this the most basic, un-nuanced take of dimorphism anyway BUT i am not in the headspace to go into that tangent. just penis or vagina (if you're intersex gosh are they gonna try to fuck you over :( awful stuff) right, uterus or testes.

their secondary sexes don't show any signs outwardly for the first 15ish? years because their secondary systems are dormant. it depends on the person, 15 is just the minimum age they'll allow (i imagine this is a hot button topic). presentation any time under the age of 15 is incredibly dangerous because the process can put enough stress on the body to send them into cardiac arrest among countless other problems.

the secondary systems veer this way and that. the organs themselves adjust themselves not unlike gonads in embryos that can shift until it decides (through nature, nurture, whatever it may be is unknown) on alpha, beta, or omega.

alphas end up developing sperm (or bolstering pre-existing systems if they already do), are probably hellish to raise in a traditionalist family. dicks get knots, clits become knots during rut. the organs anchor in the front internally close to the primary reproductive system to bind with them.

omega organs will go backwards instead and attach to the lower GI tract and fuse into it and the ends balloon into a secondary uterus. omegas in heat are mechanically constipated -- no really. the canal gets swollen and inflamed and closes the colon, it's a workaround for the fact it's anal impregnation and is where you suspend your disbelief a little more okay.

betas are people whose secondary organs don't pass the arbitrary guideline on the spectrum of "omega" and "alpha". betas vary the most while also carrying over less of the more extreme traits in alphas or omegas in moods, instincts, urges, etc. secondary fertility varies with some factoring into their primary systems (male betas might get pregnant, female betas possibly could impregnate) while some betas' secondary reproductive systems don't develop much at all (this is the closest we get to irl people)

back to my original point. litters

male alphas and female omegas are the most standard coupling. since the ice age, since female omegas had the best odds of keeping the genetic line going. the term litters for humans came not from how many babies (or pups) were born at a time, but because since both primary and secondary reproductive systems can be impregnated, F-O can have more than one baby in succession. the fetuses of F-O individuals can have different fathers, and can be smaller than babies born singularly to prevent interference with F-O's mobility

while the rate of "litters" as a statistic has gone down over the course of evolution, the use of the term has stayed surprisingly steady. in cases of "true twins" (identical or fraternal twins who developed in the same womb) (or triplets or etc) some folks consider that a litter. "false twins" are those that develop one fetus per primary/secondary systems and are the only ones that ever qualify in textbooks as "litters"

[sabineelectricheart]

Gukhwappang in Manila

Summary: Lost in Manila, V comes across a dainty bakery tucked at a side street.

Rating: K+ - Intended for general audience 5 years and older. Content should be free of any coarse language, violence, and adult themes.

Words: 2000

Notes: I don’t speak Korean, nor have I ever been to the Philippines, and I guess that’s really obvious.

V would petulantly refuse to admit it, but he was lost again.

Damn this city. Manila was built like an overcrowded, ill-defined maze. Every road branched in two, and every path led to a stopped end. The canals were like sea serpents, trashing around the city with no clear purpose, eating each other's tails and spiralling into a bottlenecked centre, never quite leading to either one of the bays. There was always another twist in the road, constantly another bridge to nowhere. It was as though the city curled in on itself and slowly tightened its grip, leaving you with no escape.

He liked the country well enough, and enjoyed the opportunity to come and photograph around, but Manila felt like a city of death swallowing you whole and never spitting anything out. Once you made your way in, there was no possibility of escape. There was not even navigation by stars, as the city trapped herself in with thick sheets of smog.

God, how he hated it.

Things were not like that back in Seoul. Even in Tokyo, the biggest city he had ever been in, one could always depend on the railways to show the way. Hectic and dirty as they may be, in either the buildings were not so close together, beating against the other, sounds mixing until there was no true source, just an everlasting din. The roads did not coil in on themselves, twisting and turning until the whole system was warped on itself.

It is always possible to find room to breathe in Seoul. Even if the air was cold, even if it smelled of smoke, even when the skyline was grey. All the good it made him, though.

Here, V could not breathe, in a more literal sense. It was too dark and damp. He was learning the way this strange city worked, with its ever-turning streets and its arbitrary districts, but no matter how much he studied the maps, it never seemed right. Seoul had been so different; and even as he shunned it and could not comprehend it, now, it curled in his heart, still. Its ice lining his arteries, its chill seeping into his veins.

It turned him around, tearing at the mental map inside his brain. If Korea could not have him, the Philippines could not keep him, either. No-one could have him, not while the weight of his sin is still upon his shoulder, not while he had not yet redeemed himself.

V was lost in the streets again, and perhaps it would be best to just admit it, when he smelled it.

Home.

The teal-haired man turned over his shoulder. A bakery sat on the corner.

He stared at it for a moment, his annoyed frown creasing even more, something familiar but lost itching at the back of his mind. He took a step forward, he breathed in; and slowly, fragments of life danced before him. Little things he had hidden in the dark recesses of his mind.

A large kitchen, overlooking a yard with a thin branch of ash tree sitting above the door, and a hot, black stove, within. Jihyun, little, barely big enough to see over the tops of tables, being shooed away from its glowing warmth. A woman with blue hair like his, bundled in thick, winter shawls, who would kiss his fingers and warn him they would be burned if he came too close. A woman with blue hair braided thick, strands curling as they fell loose on pale and gaunt cheeks, smiling as she handed him a treat, a little bit of crisp, warm filled pastry.

His mother was always in the throes of ups and downs of sanity when he was young, but whenever she had her wits to herself and his father was away, she would bake those flower-shaped treats and let him eat as many as he could.

V blinked, and the past was gone, but he breathed in, and the smell of them was still there, unmarred by ash, floating out the bakery doors.

He could not stop himself from going inside.

The shop was small, it had only two glass cases and a few racks to display their goods, and along the walls, items with their prices were written in Korean and Tagalog, and languages he did not recognize. The walls were painted a pale cream colour, and the lights were soft, somehow emulating a sunny glow. All the world seemed hushed, like it held its breath for him.

V peered at the array of baked goods and recognized Russian delicacies, next to recipes from Korea and Thailand. Beside them were cakes topped with orange and passion fruit, then breads from China. There were dumpling cakes, and cookies he recognized from Japanese festivals.

Their corner of the world was collected here, in this bakery, and while each baked good was wildly different than the last, they all sat here the same. They were all baked under the same roof, and their enticing aroma mixed and mingled, masking the smell of the salty waterways with something warmer and more immediate, sweet and strong, like a blanket around your shoulders.

V was searching for his youth when a woman stepped out from the kitchens. He did not notice her presence, at first. He was too wrapped up within memories he had almost forgotten, too tied within little details about a life he had once had and lost too soon.

Then, she placed a pan on top of the nearest case, and the sound of metal bumping against glass brought him back to the present.

His head jerked upward, and his eyes landed on her.

She is no older than him, with an apron tied around her waist, flour dusted in her hair, and, in her hands, the pastry that he was searching for: a batch of gukhwappang, golden and crisp, baked to perfection.

"안녕하세요 반갑습니다. 도와드릴까요?" She spoke in broken Korean, smiling through her errors.

It was the warmest grin V had seen in all of Manila. She stumbled over the words, and V had not heard his own language in so long, it almost felt foreign on his ears.

"I’m so sorry." She said, switching to a more proficient English. "My Korean is not the best."

"No, it’s no problem." He insisted, following her lead and avoiding embarrassment with his subpar Tagalog. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, biting his tongue nervously. "Your Korean is fine."

She hummed, rearranging one of the display racks. She must have done it a thousand times before because while her hands worked, her focus was on him.

V blinked.

"Can I have one of those?"

He inclined his head toward the small confectionary jumping around on the pan, the ones she is moving from the metal tray to a basket, his gukhwappang. His homeland. His life, somehow nestled inside of Manila.

"They remind me of..."

V could not finish, all his past collecting in his throat, all that emotion choking his voice.

She smiled indulgently at him. "Of course."

The woman picks up a pair of metal claws and takes about a hundred grams-worth of confectionary, wrapping it in a bit of brown paper.

"I know what you mean." She mused, her voice low with commiseration. "There’s lot of migrants who live around here, who end up in our doorstep. Pinoy who emigrated for so long they feel lost in their home. It helps to be reminded of the good times."

V wondered if maybe it should not. He did not belong to Seoul anymore, so perhaps he did not deserve to share what little it had to give that was truly good. How could he take its love, if he hated it, the same? However, she held out the paper bag to him, a soft understanding written in the lines of her face, and he took it, anyway.

It was smaller in his hands than he remembered, but when he cracked it open to smell the sweet inside, it was the same feeling as before, faint, in a way that felt like a dream, or a memory almost gone.

For a moment, they were there, again. His mother and his father, Jumin, Rika and the boy he had once been. They were sitting in his home in Seoul, and there were no fires burning too bright, there was just gukhwappang, and just warmth, and the sound of soft conversation lulling in the darkening night.

"We bake them fresh every Wednesday." Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts before they could sour. "There are not as many Korean émigrés on this side of Manila, so we make these less often, but if you come every Wednesday, we'll have a batch like this one."

She tilted her head to the side, where a basket was filled to the brim with them, all flawlessly baked, with a crisp, buttered crust and a soft, sweet inside.

V was close to buying another bag, but he made sure not to walk with too much money on him, lest he is robbed and he has to call asking for Jumin’s help again, and he had yet to pay for a cab back to his hotel.

So, he just held the one he had, nodding as he passed the woman the foreign bills that he owed. His fingers brushed hers, briefly enough to go entirely undetected, but he noticed, and a smile tugged at his lips.

He would come back somehow; he already knew it.

"Wednesday." V repeated.

She smiled.  "Until then."

He took a step backward but did not move further. For a moment, he just held her gaze. Then his brow furrowed.

"What street is this?" He asked.

She laughed, and her smile caught the light, framing she in a soft but perpetual glow.

"I got lost this morning. I’m not even sure we’re still in Manila proper." The man explained, as the warmth in her chest subsided.

"If I give you the name, you’d never find us again. No-one around here uses the names of side streets, really. But we're on the easternmost side of Pedro Gil Street. Get down on Paco station at the LRT-1, then take the right until you see the Pasig River, then turn right on the petrol station, then the second left on the roundabout."

V blinked.

She chuckled again, shaking her head from side to side. "Here."

She patted her apron until she found a pen, then wrote the directions on a spare napkin, her handwriting a messy scrawl that he would study over for weeks to come.

She passed him the napkin with a grin. "Do not lose this, or else you'll never find the shop again."

"I’ll be careful, but I think I can find my way here by smell alone." He said, but he tucked it in the pocket of his jacket, anyway. "Thank you."

"Don’t mention it." She beamed.

V turned to leave, once again, but before he got far, he returned. She was still fiddling with the display rack, her eyes on him. He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

"Do you know how to get to San Andrés?" He asks, embarrassment colouring his voice.

She smiled, the flutter of a scoff leaving her lips. Her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall, and after a moment of deliberation, she untied her apron, hanging it on a nail in the wall. She snagged two rolls from the rack and walked over to him.

"I'll walk you back." She offers.

V got the door, and together they walked through the streets of Manila, little bits of East Asia in her hand, taking pieces of the bread and savouring its flavour on their tongues.

He is still not ready to come back home, and it is likely that this is still a long way coming, but, for now, he finds some happiness and comfort in these strange lands.

*_*_*_*_*

Mystic Messenger Masterlist

[purplekoop]

ok maybe zarya's is fine. Even if it was an ability, I'd only want it to have a 2 second cooldown. But yeah, Torb Cass and Zen alt fires are kinda lame, and I say the same for Widow Ashe Ana Symmetra and Winston. For those first three, Scope could just be a toggled thing imo. And in general I think everyone should have 4 weapons/abilities, one Passive, and obviously their uktimate. Reaper and Tracer are also examples of one's that I'd like fixed.

I mean at the point of a 2 second cooldown, that's almost the exact same uptime as normal, considering the slow fire rate and how you only get four shots per reload. It's just kind of an arbitrary change.

I also don't get how... toggling scopes would work? Like... you. already do that. with the alt fire. that's just arbitrarily adding an extra button, which I should point out because Overwatch is also a console game and thus must have a default controller scheme, is a limited commodity. And again, I don't really see much use when, like I explained, even Ana's scope with its minimal differences compared to unscoped fire, the kits of the heroes with those scope attacks are well rounded and really don't need an extra function.

Symmetra and Winston's alt fires aren't far off from Zarya's if you give it a thought, they're long-range shots that require extra ammo and have generally slower DPS than their limited range beam primary fires. Symmetra would be gutted if you got rid of either of her primary or secondary fire without proper compensation. Winston's meanwhile is more like a nice quality of life improvement that makes his somewhat basic gameplay loop a good bit more interesting, and lets him confirm kills by himself where he otherwise couldn't, which is important especially in OW2 where there's one less teammate to help finish off an enemy he couldn't alone.

As for the more general notion that every hero should have the full set of basic abilities and a passive... I mean... I get it... but I also disagree? at least a little? For one I think the requirement of everybody having a passive is just. Insanely arbitrary. It's a fun thought experiment, but to be frank it's also tedious trying to think of giving EVERY character a unique passive that has a meaningful impact on their gameplay, especially when they already have a well-defined kit. What even counts as a passive? I've heard the suggestion that Cassidy getting a headshot with revolver should take a second off his Roll cooldown, and while I like the idea, I don't know if that warrants being called a passive when you could just as easily call it a mechanic of Combat Roll or his primary fire. And again, I gotta reiterate, there's like 5 other "basic shooty fighter guys" that don't have passives and don't NEED passives. Soldier, Ashe, Cassidy, Widowmaker, Sojourn, Tracer. The "what to do" and "why to do it" just aren't there.

I do more so agree with at least wanting to give every character a full set of 4 abilities/attacks... kinda. See Reaper's lack of a secondary fire is not only mildly irritating for perfectionists, but also is an open space for something to address some of his weaknesses. While I think characters having flaws is fine and in fact very cool, Reaper's struggle past point-blank range is obscene, and despite his existing abilities getting tons of buffs over the years, he still struggles to exist if he can't flank into ambushing an enemy at breathing distance. How he hasn't gotten any kind of ranged projectile like a smoke grenade like in the initial reveal cinematic or something is beyond me. Tracer meanwhile... is fine. She's barely been touched over the years aside from minor tweaks to Pulse Bomb and her exact damage numbers in the shift to 5v5, and I think that more than anything speaks to how solid her existing kit is. She really doesn't need an extra ability, as tempting as it is to force one onto her. Similar story to Bastion, who's been much more hectic balance-wise over the game's history, but I think his recent dominance before getting nerfed shows that his kit is probably fine despite the fact he lacks an Ability 2.

I get the desire to make every character equally complicated for the sake of "fairness", I really do, but that's just not how game design works. Some characters are simpler and have less fancy buttons or traits than others, and that's fine and cool actually! It makes for a range of playstyles and design philosophies coexisting in a really cool way. The fact that a character as simple as Tracer can be just as respectable a pick as someone super complex in terms of ability count like Ramattra is really neat! So arbitrarily forcing "complexity" onto characters can just as easily help as it can hurt. Remember the recent Mei rework? She got a passive! And people didn't like it!

So yeah, while I think some additions to kit complexity are great, like Zen's kick and trading Hog's awkward alt fire for a new ability, it's not essential for every character to follow suit.

[semper-legens]

78. The Tale of Steven, by Rebecca Sugar

Owned: No, library Page count: Unknown/not numbered My summary: Steven Universe. A boy, a gem, a legend, a child. All of these things in one. But of course, what he is depends on who is telling the story... My rating: 5/5 My commentary:

You know, sometimes I feel like I'm cheating, with some of the things I count as books on this blog. My categories are often somewhat arbitrary, and are more based on vibes than anything else. Regardless, I really feel like I'm cheating with this one. A tiny little comic meant for children that took me exactly five minutes to read? Yeah, War and Peace this ain't. And yet, I wanted to talk about it, so I'm going to do just that. Because ultimately, I just wanted to talk about this book for a bit. Hey, it's my blog.

Look, I really loved this thing. It's a simple enough concept - Steven's story is told first by White Diamond, in upside-down text, Rose Quartz, in text slanted on the right, and Steven himself. At the end, Steven takes over his own story, and the book returns to normal text. The message is both clear and simple - it's empowering to tell your own story, and nobody can define who you are other than you. White and Rose tell two very different versions of Rose's time as Pink, and Steven has a different perspective on his own existence than Rose and White do. But the climax of the book comes when he accepts his dual identity as both a human and a gem, and as such gets the power to control the narrative. It's sweet, and has a really good message for kids. And if that message wasn't clear enough, it's dedicated to trans and gender diverse kids. My little heart melted when I saw that. It's short, sweet, gorgeous, and well worth picking up if you see it around!

Next, returning to an old favourite of mine, and a girl fallen on hard times.

[count-demonlord-of-decadence]

Inherently we are being who wish and seek the understanding and knowledge of exactly who we are and what kind of world we live in. But in order to subsist in the world this chaotic, we create arbitrary labels in orders in which to rate measure and define ourselves. When the ultimate truth is it's adherence to these rigid labels that in fact are your own inhibitation. Once you rid yourself of your rigid thinking and become fluid like water but not everyone understands the concept of water so think about it as a different fluid maybe some of you want to be gasoline maybe some of you want to be Mercury maybe some of you want to be I don't know what else is oh jelly technically jelly is a liquid at room temperature now it looks solid but if you leave it outside it's container eventually would seek its own level be like jelly

[thosearentcrimes]

Do YIMBYs have, like, estimates of how much of construction cost is due to unnecessary regulation (defining as unnecessary those regulations which either exist purely to drive up housing prices or components of regulations whose functions could be replaced with equivalent regulations that would not drive up housing prices as much)? Of how much of those reduced construction costs would be retained as profits by the developers (note: if it is low or none, then the pragmatic argument for YIMBYism, that developers can be used as political allies, is false)? Of roughly how large the expected impact on rents and housing prices would be at various price points over the next couple decades as the new housing stock filters in under the new equilibrium, as opposed to the expected values under the status quo?

These are detailed bits of information I'm asking for, I know. Additionally, they are economic projections, and therefore I might as well be asking people to examine bird entrails. I don't expect random posters to have the answers to them. I think proponents should have some kind of intuitions about this (my guesses are 5-10%, about half counting the finance cut, and lower than the margin of error respectively) but I don't expect the answers there.

Where I do expect the answers is in, like, YIMBY think tank publications specifically meant to answer common concerns about pro-development policy. But no. A paper from the Furman Center (from 2018, but then, they've had almost 50 years to work on this shit at this point) says "There is little empirical evidence about the net effects new market rate housing has on the prices or rents of nearby homes, and what exists may not be causal." And it is difficult to claim that their standards of evidence are simply too high, I've read some of the papers they cite. In this part of the paper they use one that shows that census tracts with less construction either had their population grow but low-income (defined as 80% of median income or lower) population shrink or their population shrink but their low-income population shrink faster more often than census tracts with more construction did. This proves that you shouldn't worry about gentrification caused by YIMBYism apparently?

If someone tells you that evidence of a phenomenon doesn't exist, and then starts talking about entirely arbitrary nominal phenomena that bear no clear relation to the actual topic, I think it's fair to suspect that perhaps the evidence of that phenomenon does exist and doesn't favor them. I dunno.

Anyway yes parking requirements are bad, yes single-stair apartments like everywhere in Europe already has are fine, yes this kind of smart mixed-used urbanism shouldn't be illegal to build, and yes landlords and landowners generally are an obstacle to human dignity and economic efficiency. But YIMBY seems to marry ineffectiveness with political inexpedience. The virtue is that it's nominally free and therefore fiscally responsible and such, since you're just removing legislature. In fact the entrenched interests that you are going up against, quite possibly without even a single friendly industry if the developers think their excess profits will be wiped out by competition, are the ones who are eating the costs. Don't get me wrong, they deserve to, I just don't see how we're going to make them.

[chromorbid]

I think one of the biggest pitfalls of media like "Bros" is people constantly trying to write queer romance as "straight romance but between people of the same sex"

queer attraction is so dramatically different from straight attraction that it will immediately look weird and wrong to any experienced gay if it's written to resemble straight attraction. I mean like, queerness is defined by the characteristic of being unordinary and going against the status quo. and straight romance always seeks to follow a bunch of dumb rules that, once you begin to settle into a queer identity, you just realize are really arbitrary and depressing. why try to be "normal" with your love when that's not who you are as a person?

I think queer love is so much more vibrant and exciting than straight love because of this. it's why Bros was cringey and most straight folks' takes on gay romance is just hard to watch.

I've observed, also, that straight romance always has this sort of expectation that love has to hurt in order for it to be considered "real". it seems like a huge reason the divorce rate for straight couples is so high. I rambled about this on a private twit a while back and I think it sums it up well

ah yes. capitalism. I'm right lol

[ashketchumseleventhbirthday]

An Empty Party

Summary: Juliana invites all her friends to come have dinner at her place. No-one shows up, except for her boyfriend.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 1200

Notes: Arven is a great yandere, lots of potential. I just need to define what type of yandere, exactly.

Juliana sat down on the couch, nestling her face on her hands in absolute despondency.

The time set for the dinner party to begin has come and went an hour ago, but her carefully crafted appetizers sat, lukewarm and untouched, on the kitchen counter. The entrees she had been preparing sat unfinished on cold stove burners. The house, carefully and tastefully decorated, felt like it was mocking her out of undue spite.

She had stopped cooking once she realized no-one was going to show up. Then, the only thing that showed up were tears.

Well, truth be told, she is not completely short of guests. No-one showed but Arven, that is. He had had arrived early, volunteering to help her set up everything, and has even offered to cook for her, being a well-established fact that he was much better at it than anyone they knew.

She thanked him profusely because, truthfully, she thought he might skip out on the evening. He did not like her friends and her friends did not like him. Neither party ever did much to hide it from one another.

It was around the time that he was setting out her dishes that the first cancellation arrived, making her phone buzz and jolt on the counter. Then another, then another, until finally there was no-one left to come.

Her phone buzzed in her hand. She set it down on her well-worn coffee table, screen down, without even checking it.

“Another one? What excuse did they give?” The blond asked, his voice was lilting, sympathetic.

Juliana knew that he hated it when her friends treated her like this, and so she appreciated his restraint. Especially when he had warned her that they would.

“There is no permanence around here, Juli. What is one day suddenly isn’t anymore. Don’t take them at their word, because they’ll turn their backs on you just as easily.”

Coming back to Paldea after many years abroad had been a challenge for her, and the Academy has a very strange social system. Between arbitrary stratification, the many rankings in academics and training, and that Team Star gang, it was nothing like what she knew back in Kalos.

Nevertheless, she thought that she was able to acclimate herself well enough, finding a bit of a niche. When she first enrolled, she made friends with a girl on her year named Carmen, as well as a small group of hers, and everything was going well for a couple of months.

Until she met Arven. They started dating, or as close as their private evenings at home and occasional trips to a coffee shop came to dates, a year ago and, since then, it seems that she became a scourge for her old social circle. Naturally, she had come to rely on him for companionship more and more. 

Juliana leaned her head against his shoulder and shrugged. She could not bear to read one more text message from a so-called friend. Their Pokémon was sick. Their grandmother was sick. They lost their house keys. Endless excuses, one after another.

The thought made tears rise again, hot and bitter against her cheeks. She slotted herself against his side and he wrapped his arm around her waist, squeezing her tightly, almost painfully so. However, the gesture was comforting and warm and protective, and she tried to remember that, even if her friends were abandoning her, at least there was still someone who cared.

“I d-don’t…” The girl started, hating the way her voice choked with emotion. She could only continue by whispering, her voice tight and painful. “I don’t understand why they’re doing this to me. I thought we were friends.”

They knew how much work Juliana had put into her dinner party, how much it meant to her. It was meant to bring everyone together again, to close the gap that had grown between them.

This past year, this terrible year that seemed to undo all the effort that she put in to having a new, happy life in the homeland of her parents’. This night had been her last desperate call, her last attempt to reach out to them, and it ends in such a way.

It was humiliating, if it were not so sad. So lonely.

The rift started with blunt refusals to invite her to group nights if Arven came along, so she went to those less and less. Then their daily texts and weekly hang-outs turned into weekly texts, and a quick lunch once in a blue moon. That is, if no one cancelled, and they usually did.

Once, her boyfriend had even stumbled across a friend’s second account filled with videos and snapshots of dinners, movie nights, zoo trips. All planned secretly, the girl assumed, because there was no hint of them in the once-talkative group chat where queries about hanging out were met with a list of excuses.

He was not sure if he should show her the account, Arven told her then, but he knew how important these friends were to her and he wanted her to have all the information. He was so thoughtful that way. Even if his thoughtfulness had led to late nights crying over an app she now barely used.

How often had they been excluding her? And why?

That seemed to be the biggest question, swirling through her mind. Was it because she had a new boyfriend, and they could not handle sharing? He had suggested this early on, that her friends were jealous and too immature to understand her needs, and she had initially dismissed it as ridiculous.

Now, however, Juliana might reconsider her earlier statement. She cannot handle doubting herself anymore, she cannot keep re-thinking every interaction she ever had with them.

They ignored her. They excluded her for months. Now, they turned their backs on the gesture she had tried to create with the intent to mend their broken friendships. She had done her part, now she should just let the dices fall where they must.

It should be freeing. Yet, it hurts so much.

“I feel so alone…” She confessed quietly.

The realization felt like a pot of water boiling over and Juliana felt the weight of the past months crushing her chest. She feels alone, abandoned, left behind.

“They...” She hiccups, feeling a new wave of tears to come out. “They make me feel so alone.”

She clenched her firsts against her boyfriend’s jacket, feeling bitter and sad and angry all at once.

As she wept silently into his shoulder, she realized that, once again, Arven was right about them. About everything. He knew so much more about human nature and the culture of Paldea than she did.

He would never say it, he did not gloat, but it hung in the air between them. He told her so, and from now on, she would listen.

“You’re not alone, Juli. You’ll never be alone.” He said quietly, stroking her hair as he let her cry in his arms. “I’m not letting you feel this way. I will always stay with you.”

“Thank you.” The girl hiccupped pathetically.

Her eyes, swollen and stinging with tears, could not see his smile.

*_*_*_*_*

9th Gen Masterlist

[babyawacs]

@zdfinfo .@israel @israel @haaretzcom as secular independent iclassify the #jewish quest for the #12losttribes  as the psychological/religuous quest for belongig an intrinsic me ntal program incontrary to abscence of any reliable basis especially as outgroup emotionally estranged tothe location where self i dentity of culture and religion as only defining reliable stability factor is causing also what contradicts assimilation arbitrary disispation intothe currentlocation while scientifically of genome proovability allafter 5generations is arbitrary anything canbe from anywhere roundabout all heritage quests after 150years as arbitrary asif n onaffiliation  the  #keypoint results from this light or synthetic aperture is how you want to run your safe place youmade with miracles of america a singularity in timeframes formany reasons (digression_ including which effects cause social progress within that system like socioeconomics success asonlymeasure and specific values leading to a high turnover rate of subculture interactionsmeltingpot_ ) #keypoint 

@zdfinfo .@israel @israel @haaretzcom as secular independent iclassify the #jewish quest for the #12losttribes as the psychological/religuous quest for belongig an intrinsic mental program incontrary to abscence of any reliable basis especially as outgroup emotionally estranged tothe location where self identity of culture and religion as only defining reliable stability factor is causing also…

[new-albums-daily]

Steely Dan – Aja (1977)

7 tracks, 39 min 56 sec

Rating: 10/10

Top Track: Deacon Blues

Today, an album that I've been meaning to listen to since before this project. Also, one of the albums that I'm closest to my arbitrary 50% familiarity rate that would prevent it from being eligible for this project; I know 3 of the 7 tracks here, namely Deacon Blues, Peg, and Josie. Not to mention the several other Steely Dan songs I know.

This, as you can guess by the rating, was absolutely fantastic. No standout tracks as usual because every track was a standout. Steely Dan's jazz influences are really clear throughout this entire album, especially with the heavy saxophone usage. They did a really great job of combining that with the more standard rock sound of the time, and it resulted in this really beautiful project. This also creates a really unified sound throughout the album, tying all the songs together a bit with similar musical themes, but they're also very clearly defined in their own right. Taking all this together, this makes a very clear candidate for a 10. I simply liked everything about this album and have no criticisms.

[smivic]

We are defined by the questions we ask.

So, here’s a question: where do you live when you realize?

—That your children are more likely to die of gun violence?

hat your health outlook is diminished?

— That your suicide rate is higher?

— That teen birth is more likely?

— That murder rates seem high?

__ That climate change threats are getting more severe for you?

— That one out of four young people won’t consider your higher education offerings?

— That there are significant college faculty shortages?

— That there are significant hospital closures and hospital staffing shortages?

— That you are very dependent on the federal governance you are told to hate?

— That your right to vote is is threatened?

— That conservative policy is throttled by mawkish authoritarian rhetoric?

Answer:

Chances are you live in a place where science, reason, facts, justice, equity, health, safety, ecosystems, and established rights are under continual attack. 

 That is, you likely live in a “red state” and are the victim of “red-stateism”.

 Your leaders are determined to distort responsible governance by:

— Undermining education, science, reason, facts, justice, equity, health, safety, ecosystems, and established rights,

— Advocating allegiance to conspiracy, rumor, vacuous legend, and arbitrary political dominance,

— Making the opposition into “enemies” (“the vermin”), illegally and unjustly defined, “us” vs “them”, superior vs inferior, then attacked,

— Suppressing the hard work of democracy and its precious responsibilities,

— Making governance into laboratories for “white” “Christian” authoritarianism and fascism.

Why?

“It is easier to believe a lie than the truth.”(George Orwell)

We’ve been sucker-punched, rope-a-doped by an evil empire!

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