#in several different classes acutally
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20 odd years after Van & Tai broke up, on a random weekday, Taissa gets a call to her office phone. When she picks up, Natalie is on the other line, asking if Taissa is alone. Tai braces for the worst, closing her office door and trying to prepare herself for whatever it is Natalie’s about to say.
“It’s Van,” Natalie tells her, “she just got charged with manslaughter in the state of Ohio, she needs a lawyer.”
Queue Taissa panicking, because her and Van have not spoken in decades, and while Taissa may have graduated first in her class at Columbia, her degree was in civil law—she’s not totally confident in a criminal case.
Still, she obviously drops everything and drives across the country to Van, who she finds sitting in a county jail cell with a black eye and bruised knuckles.
“Other guy looks worse,” Van says with a wry smile the minute she spots Taissa, but her smile drops and she shakes her head. “I told Natalie not to call you.”
“Can you afford another lawyer?” Taissa asks, familiar worry rushing back in as she looks at Van, older and different, but still so terrifyingly the same. Taissa can’t suppress the old instinct to reach out and brush her fingers across the bruise on Van’s cheek.
“You’re not gonna get me out of this one, Tai,” Van says. “It was a bar fight. There are witnesses.”
“Did you start it?” Taissa asks.
Van raises an eyebrow. “Course not,” she says. “Just… got a little carried away finishing it.”
Taissa clears her throat, mind snapping back to all the countless seminar hours she spent reviewing every facet of a good narrative argument. “You’re a visible lesbian in suburban Ohio,” she says. “You have a history of severe mental trauma, you have character witnesses who can speak on your behalf. We can claim self-defense, coupled with acute mental distress aggravated by a violent confrontation. You’re gonna be fine, Van. You’ll get court-mandated counseling, at worst, and maybe that’ll be for the best anyway.”
“I can’t pay you, Tai,” Van says, taking a step back from the bars that are separating them. “And you’re not doing this for free.”
“Why not?” Taissa asks, frustration creeping into her tone.
“Because friends do things for free,” Van says. “And we’re not friends anymore, Tai, we’re not anything.”
Taissa sets her jaw in annoyance.
“I’m not letting some public defender glance over your file and plead this out,” Taissa says. “You’ll do jail time, Van. You’ll lose your store.”
Van looks away from Taissa, staring at her shoes, scuffing one toe against the ground.
“Let me do this, Van,” Taissa says, voice low. “Please.”
She can see Van considering it, chewing on her lip, silently seeming to weigh her options.
“Van, my marriage is falling apart,” Taissa says, not even sure why the words are coming to her, but speaking them anyway. “My kid is scared of me, my wife thinks I’m crazy. And maybe I am. I mean, how many people would hear about someone they love beating some scumbag to death in a bar and not bat an eye? I know you, Van, we know each other, no matter how much time goes by. Just let me do this for you, please. I could only stay away all this time cause I knew you were alright here. I couldn’t sleep at night if you were locked up in some penitentiary.”
Van looks up at her, eyes glassy. Taissa holds her breath. After a minute, Van nods.
“I’m gonna post your bail, okay?” Taissa says. “And then I’ll drive you home and we can go over your statement together.”
Again, Van nods.
She spends that night with her head in Taissa’s lap, absolutely furious at herself for caving that easily. It’s just been a long few days, alright?
Tai wraps up Van’s bruised knuckles and makes her ice her black eye, both of them pretending it isn’t almost unbearable being around each other like this and not talking about everything that went down between them years ago.
Taissa stays the week, going over Tai’s files and frantically serving the court order after order about the gross mishandling of Van’s arrest and the evidence against her. She stays up most nights working. Van can’t sleep either. Somewhere along the way, they start talking to fill the time.
It turns into a year and a half of Taissa spending half her time in Ohio on Van’s couch (and occasionally, when Van’s nightmares get too bad, in her bed), preparing for a weirdly low profile manslaughter trial that no one quite understands why she’s so fixated on. Simone eventually leaves her & goes off to live her best life without Taissa’s crazy ass (affectionate). Tai barely notices her wife leaving her cause she’s too busy falling back in love with her ex girlfriend who cracked a grown man’s skull with her bare hands.
Tai wins the trial, obviously, and Van walks away with no charges. Tai and Van make out in a court house bathroom immediately after they get the verdict. Then they move in together somewhere between Ohio and New Jersey. Taissa loves her murderer girlfriend so much <3 & Van loves her pitbull defense attorney girlfriend more than anything <3. The end.)
#fics I’ll never write#it’s like my cousin Vinny but Van actually committed the crime yk#this is what I’m doing instead of my actual legal work#ghosted my boss to write Taivan microfics instead of doing my job#yellowjackets#taissa turner#taivan#van palmer#natalie scatorccio#tai x van#van x taissa
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Actual thoughts straight from the shower (spoilers for the entire SotO story):
Okay so Peitha is great, but many agree (including us) that she's EXCEPTIONALLY small and "classically" pretty in comparison to her brother.
Now, as someone who's done video game design classes, we get it. Anet wants to have a character that's easy to animate and so they went with a modeling skeleton (it's an actual animation term we're not calling Peitha thin) based on the majority of the existing player races for the sake of having the most amount of pre-existing animations to work off of (you can see her emoting during the last chapter). Sylvari, human, and norn all have a few different emote variations, like dance for example (can y'all imagine if Peitha started dancing...?).
Making a video game is freaking stressful and taxing, and you generally want to avoid making something that will be used for only one instance and one instance only UNLESS it will dramatically improve the game's feel. Take djinn and Isgarren for example. They're both four-armed races with the same body shape. There's already several animations the djinn have that are reused for Isgarren, with, as far as we can tell, one exception. Isgarren has a talking animation that has him moving all four of his arms. Djinn don't have this animation (unless it's going to be retroactively added) and Anet likely never intended to give them this animation to keep to the idea that djinn are very reserved and guarded around others. One animation loop is not going to break the bank, but more than that? Ehh...
So as cool as it would have been to make Peitha a unique and incredibly monstrous skeleton, any animations they would have given her might NEVER get used again, and that's a LOT of time used for such a rare scenario. Ergo, give her a design with the most animation reuse potential.
Now that's the technical/logical hypothesis for why Peitha looks the way she does. But here's our lore-based theories which are frankly more interesting.
There's a book you can find in Dagda's room that reveals that all of the taller wizards (Dagda, Isgarren, and Mabon) have gone out of their way to disguise themselves to look more normal and less threatening. Isgarren went out of his way to look like a djinn by making his skin blue (and probably hiding his legs and giving himself extra fingers because CANONICALLY GW1 seers have like 3 fingers and very obvious legs), Mabon chose to hide his wings (the black tentacle things you see other mursaat have? yeah that) and Dagda... we actually don't know WHAT she did to herself. The book avoids mentioning it.
With that said, this could be foreshadowing to the fact that maybe Peitha realized that the shorter mortal races are very distrustful in general, and chose to look as close to a more "conventional" mortal appearance when she began keeping her eye on the Commander (she WAS surprised the first time she's seen but she might have been playing things cautiously from the start in case the wizards noticed her).
Alright so that's the first theory. The second one has less evidence to back it up but its A way to explain the dichotomy between her appearance and her brother and keeping to the idea that Peitha legitimately does look the way we see her.
The only demons encountered to date have basically all been enemies. Peitha is one of the few or potentially only demons who has not tried to kill the player character on sight.
Perhaps Peitha is legitimately that unique due to the fact that she's not normal for her race. Perhaps she's considered a runt of the litter when compared to the other high class Kryptis. Maybe that led to her being acutely aware of how unjust the system in her world is, and the moment she realized that you, the legendary dragon/god slayer that you are, fell into her realm, Peitha had a moment and realized that maybe maybe this was the opportunity she needed to change things for the better.
In any case, we'll have to wait and see what other female Kryptis look like to figure out if the sexual dimorphism is simply.. well, that extreme for demons or if Peitha is the exception not the rule.
In any case, Peitha is wife who's loved regardless <3
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I’m not sure if your still writing stuff abt you danganronpa zombies au but if you are can we get more on junko??? I’m just wondering how her personality and plans translate to her zombie self
Im also wondering about Mukuro??? I’m not sure if you’ve mentioned her yet but her being a zombie interacting w her strange obsessive behavior w junko would be interesting
Sorry if this is incoherent but I’ve been thinking abt it for the last couple days lol
First of all, I am open to asks for every AU always! Lol.
For Junko, I'd say that her ability to plot things out is largely intact. Her ability to reason through the consequences of different actions in advance is not as sophisticated as it was before, but it's still really impressive for being undead. She's a lot more lucid than the others, but that said, I don't currently think she has an overarching ambition in this AU.
For one thing, just being undead is such an acute taste of entropy that she no longer feels so bored and dissatisfied all the time. So much about her body and mind are new, she subsists on murdering people, and just so much is wrong that, like Nagito, I think this might lowkey be kind of the best timeline for her.
Hope's Peak created this virus. Hope's Peak created this despair. Her point about despair is pretty much already vindicated, and she knows this won't stay contained. Her need to self-aggrandize is subsumed (at least for now) by her fascination with her new self; her need to spread despair is satiated by just the absolutely miserable situation of the Reserve Course and the pretty much guaranteed upcoming escalation when the undead breach containment; any urge she feels to be destructive and contrarian can easily be expressed by leaving the classroom and trying to eat someone before Makoto finds her; and all the while, she's experiencing the friendship and comradery with her classmates that she enjoys.
Makoto is taking care of her, and she genuinely likes that a lot. She loves getting her hair brushed, and the strained look on his face when he wipes blood from her mouth, and the quick reflexes he's developed to avoid her attempts to bite him. Between that and the occasional video calls from Yasuke, she's feeling pretty great.
I'm not saying Junko will never act mastermind-y in this AU; just that, for some length of time, she is satiated by the status quo. I think, if she does manifest a deeper goal than just enjoying herself, the first new goal she might pursue is that of making Makoto realize how Hope's Peak is using him and what Nagito has been up to. She would want Makoto to know what the Reserve Course's real role here is, and that it's not really accidental.
Now, Mukuro! I mentioned her briefly in this post and some others, but you're right that she hasn't really had focus. Mukuro's dexterity and fine motor skills are among the highest, of the undead, in that she can still hold and wield weapons.
She's still fiercely protective whenever Junko is under threat, but other than that she operates as a normal social presence in the class, just because my own headcanons (anime notwithstanding, lol) have her and Junko act like their relationship is normal, at school. Unlike Junko, Mukuro's grasp of consequences and general human behavior is greatly decreased. Her combat intelligence, as in fighting and battle strategy, remains, but her human intelligence is severely impacted.
Like in the hyperlinked post, she complies when Makoto takes her weapons away, but she doesn't understand that he doesn't want her to have weapons. When he tries to tell her, she just stares uncomprehendingly. She likes his face and his smell and how gently he handles them.
I'm picturing Mukuro curling up with Junko to sleep and Junko continually pushing or kicking her away, with groggy little movements, and Mukuro just casually crawls back, until they both fall asleep about a yard away from each other with Junko's foot against Mukuro's stomach.
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Inu-Mothership Spotlight Saturday: Holiday Edition!
Week 2: Food and Drink
Hello everyone! We here at the @inu-mothership are back with our next set of holiday fic recs! This week, our theme is Food and Drink/Cooking and Eating Together, and we have ten stories for you that are focused on the tradition of cooking/baking/eating together. Some of the stories aren't quite holiday-focused, but we hope you will forgive us, as we wanted to find fics that highlighted the joy of sharing a meal.
Stories are listed in alphabetical order, with ship, rating, and status (ongoing or completed) in the parenthetical. We hope you enjoy, and maybe some of these stories will inspire your next meal or your next baking enterprise!
An Annoying Christmas Elf (InuKag; T; complete) by @jeremymarsh
Christmas is still a couple of weeks away and Inuyasha is already sick of hearing the tenant upstairs sing Michael Bublè's entire discography, especially if it's Sunday morning and he's just trying to recover from a hellish week at work. He's ready to give her a piece of his mind, but the meeting doesn't go as hoped.
Apple Pie and Mistletoe (InuKag; M; complete) by @ruddcatha
Called out of town unexpectedly for work just before Christmas, Inuyasha Takahashi asks his best friend Kagome, whom he's secretly loved for years, to house sit. When a storm grounds his plane, will the two friends admit their feelings, or continue to stay silent? What role does Apple Pie and Mistletoe play in what is about to unfold?
The Christmas Cake Tradition (SessKag; T; complete) by @chierafied
In which Sesshoumaru and Kagome attempt to bake a Christmas cake.
Do Hanyos Like Chocolate Chip Cookies? (InuKag; T; complete) by @ruddcatha
Kagome and Inuyasha finally has the opportunity to spend the Christmas Holidays with Kagome's family after several years hunting shards. Kagome teaches Inuyasha the difference between Christmas Cookies and Chocolate Chip Cookies, and some well placed Mistletoe could finally bring feelings to light.
The Fifth Flavor (InuKag; T; complete) by@cannibalsforbreakfast/Laeoukka (Ao3)
Inuyasha is a world-class photographer, living an isolated existence in a crappy second-floor apartment in Tokyo. His pictures go for thousands of dollars, and he'll photograph anything except people.
Kagome is opening a farm-to-table cafe on the first floor.
When Inuyasha's acute senses lead the two to fight on day one, it seems like these unwilling neighbors are destined to hate each other. But food has a way of fixing everything...
It’s Beginning to Look Like, F*** That (SessKagura; M; complete) by @shade-without-color/streamsofstoriesandcolour (Ao3)
What seems like a way to impress Kagura's colleagues, turned into an awkward baking lesson when she was with Sesshomaru. And it did not help that a certain group of people...is well you know…
Merry Christmas, Inuyasha (InuKag; G; complete) by @splendentgoddess
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the shrine, the Higurashis were preparing a meal fine. Kagome went to retrieve the chicken with care, not knowing a certain hanyou had followed her there
The Secret Baking Habits of Sesshōmaru (SessKag; G; complete) by kaoruhana (Ao3)
Stress baking is causing a Christmas Cookie problem for Sesshomaru. Good thing his neighbor Kagome has a sweet tooth.
Treat (SessKag; T; complete) by @sereia1313
Kagome surprises Sesshoumaru after a hard day at work.
たべたい (InuKag; T; complete) by @shade-without-color/streamsofstoriesandcolour (Ao3)
Inuyasha's relationship with food is complicated in his mind, however, it always seems to centre around Kagome and his now-found family.
#spotlight saturday#holiday fic recs#week 2: food and drink#inuyasha fanfiction#inu mothership spotlight saturday#fic recs
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Chapter tags & trigger warnings: angst, mentions of self-harm and trauma. | Word count: 620 | Cross posted on AO3. | Series masterpost. ✧.*
General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18
Something wasn’t right.
Lia had been quieter than usual for several weeks. When she smiled, her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and when our eyes met, she immediately averted her gaze, as if she was trying to hide from me whatever was in them.
After spending the day in the studio and going over the planned tour again, through all the arrangements we had to consider, we called it a day, and I hurried to leave before the others to catch Lia, who was the first to say goodbye, pick up her backpack, and cross the hallway and head towards the exit of the building, as if she was in a rush.
“Lia,” despite my height and Lia’s petite figure, she moved fast, and I almost had to take a couple of big strides to keep up with her as she left the studio.
In the past, I would have grabbed her arm. I would have used any excuse to touch her. Now things were different. I wasn’t sure what had changed, (other than the fact that Lia was dating Mitch), but every time I approached her it felt like a wall was growing taller day by day, separating us.
She stopped at the sound of her name, knowing who was behind her. She smiled when she looked at me.
I offered to drive her home. She thanked me but told me she had a yoga class in thirty minutes and preferred to take a walk. For a moment, a voice in my head told me she was avoiding spending time alone with me, but Lia silenced that voice as she stood on her tiptoes and left a fleeting kiss on my cheek.
We had never had the chance to talk about what happened that day under the rain, the way Mitch had talked to her and how he had nearly forced her to leave the place with him. The silence between us was growing, and it was scaring the shit out of me.
“I’ll see you soon,” she said. I watched her leave, not knowing when I’d see her again. We were not leaving on tour for another few weeks, and we were supposed to rest and recharge before hitting the road. The ache of missing her gnawed at me relentlessly. I kept telling myself that all this situation was normal. She had a boyfriend; I was a friend. But something in me wasn’t satisfied even though I wanted to see her happy. I cared more than others about her well-being because I knew practically every aspect of her life. I knew her past. We had been friends since we were kids. I knew every scar on her heart and the scars on her skin, which made me acutely aware of the delicate balance she treaded. The image of her walking on the edge of a knife left me gripped by an inexplicable sense of fear.
“Earth to Noah. She just turned the corner. She’s gone.”
Nicholas; the voice of reason. His words held a tinge of reprimand, making me acknowledge the obvious.
“Well aware,” I replied.
“What's the matter with you?” He pressed. “I'm asking to see if you know, because I've known for a long time.”
I tilted my head to look at him disapprovingly. I had no intention of delving into that discussion again. We’d had it before, and Nick’s theories were simply wrong. Whatever notions he had in his mind had nothing to do with how things were. Lia was just my best friend and I cared for her. That was all and Nicholas was wrong.
I told him I was going home, so I followed through on my words and headed towards my car.
#noah sebastian#noah sebastian fic#noah sebastian fanfic#bad omens#bad omens fic#bad omens fanfiction
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"The leather jacket." (Point at the man's clothes.) "It matches her description perfectly."
KIM KITSURAGI - "The bright blue lining?" He nods, then points at the ring on the man's left hand: "Well, he's definitely *someone's* husband."
Ok, so it turns out the library card option is more interesting, so I'm going to show you that as well.
3. "The library card! He was supposed to return a book."
KIM KITSURAGI - "I can't see a book..." The lieutenant pats his pockets. "So he took the book to the library, then came back and thought -- I'll have one."
LOGIC [Medium: Success] - I'll have *one* drink before I get home.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - Just one drink. I have my cool jacket on. I took the book to the library. I've earned it.
INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - The view from the lookout is beautiful...
KIM KITSURAGI - "Damn it... He's definitely *someone's* husband." The lieutenant points at the golden ring on the man's left hand, the flesh around it swollen and pale.
Either way, that brings us to:
Task complete: Find working class husband
+30 XP
5. "What do you think happened here?"
KIM KITSURAGI - "Death by misadventure. He slipped and fell through the boardwalk. A truly unfortunate accident... If it wouldn't have been for that bench, he'd be alive."
"Could it be related to the lynching?"
"Do you think he was drunk?" (Point at the bottle.)
"What about the kebab?"
"Someone should be held responsible for this broken boardwalk. It's dangerous."
"Right." (Conclude.)
KIM KITSURAGI - "No, I don't see anything that points in that direction. For now let's treat this case as a simple -- albeit sad -- accident, unrelated to the murder case."
HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - Yes, but what if there's a killer on the loose? Two suspicious deaths in such a short time frame!
"We should consider the possibility that we're dealing with a sequence killer here."
"You're right, connecting it with the lynching is a stretch."
KIM KITSURAGI - "A *sequence killer*?" The lieutenant narrows his eyes in the wind. "There's nothing that connects those two bodies. This is a completely different case -- an accident."
INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] - What if all of this is staged? He could have seen something that night in the yard...
"What if he *witnessed* something? All of this could be staged. We don't know the exact cause of death."
"Someone could have pushed him from behind with an intention to kill."
"I'm just saying that we should be open to all possibilities."
KIM KITSURAGI - "It's possible, but let's take it step-by-step. We still haven't identified the man."
2. "Do you think he was drunk?" (Point at the bottle.)
KIM KITSURAGI - "Oh yes," the lieutenant nods.
"What about alcohol poisoning and liver failure?"
KIM KITSURAGI - "Some symptoms of acute alcohol poisoning could have definitely played a role here: severe confusion, respiratory depression, unpredictable behaviour..."
"But I think that death arrived through head trauma, not liver failure."
3. "What about the kebab?"
KIM KITSURAGI - "What about it? The deceased ate some kebab." He shrugs. "It's probably from a nearby place, maybe in the Pox..."
LOGIC [Medium: Success] - Sometimes a kebab is just a kebab.
4. "Someone should be held responsible for this broken boardwalk. It's dangerous."
KIM KITSURAGI - "They'll seal this place off after the news reaches the Coalition officials. I doubt that they have enough resources to actually repair the boardwalk."
"Not that sealing it off would keep anyone away. All it does is keep the city council's hands clean." He smiles sourly.
5. "Right." (Conclude.)
KIM KITSURAGI - "It does seem to be a pretty straightforward misadventure, although there's still the question of identifying the body..."
6. "What should we do with him?"
KIM KITSURAGI - "From where I stand I can see two options. We either take the case and follow the leads to identify the body on our own -- or we report back to the station and leave this for our colleagues to handle."
"Hold on -- what about field autopsy?"
"We found him. We should finish this." (Take the case.)
"Let's leave this case for the station, I don't want to spend time on it." (Don't take the case.)
"I still need some time to decide how I want to solve this case." (Return to this later.)
KIM KITSURAGI - "A field autopsy isn't necessary if the cause of death doesn't appear to be criminal -- and this looks like a simple accident to me."
"I'd say we should just write down 'head trauma' in the autopsy report and leave it at that. It would save us at least two hours of unnecessary work."
"Yes, but... isn't that kind of sloppy?"
"You're right, I don't see anything criminal here. Let's leave it at that."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Good call. The guys at Processing can take care of the rest."
+1 Reputation
2. "We found him. We should finish this." (Take the case.)
KIM KITSURAGI - "Alright. We should first examine that library card you found. Then we can call the station from my Kineema, let them know we're taking the case."
New task: Dead body on the boardwalk
6. [Leave.]
Let's examine the library card right away, then.
FOLDED LIBRARY CARD
A library card found from a pocket of the dead man on the Martinaise boardwalk. It's still slightly damp to the touch. The cover bears the stamp of Jamrock Public Library.
>INTERACT
A FOLDED LIBRARY CARD - The library card is folded into two and still slightly wet to the touch. The front side reads: "Central Jamrock Public Library Card. Issued to Billie Méjean, expires July '53."
LOGIC [Medium: Success] - Billie is a unisex name. Could be the deceased *or* his family member?
Look inside.
Look at the backside.
[Put it away.]
A FOLDED LIBRARY CARD - Whoever owns this card is an avid reader: you find a list of books written in blue pencil: 'Radiothriller', 'Stand a Little Less Between Me and the Sun'. The last one in the list is 'The Glinting Curve', by M. Thibault. A library stamp indicates that the book has been returned.
CONCEPTUALIZATION [Trivial: Success] - Most of these titles seem to be in the sci-fi genre. Some thrillers too.
Level up!
2. Look at the backside.
A FOLDED LIBRARY CARD - "If lost, please return the card to the library. Dial 005-02-55-211 or visit us at Meroe Street 78, Jamrock. Business hours: 09.00 to 18.00."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Good." He takes a note. "We should give them a call from my Kineema, see if we can learn anything about Billie Méjean."
I'm pretty sure we know that name.
3. [Put it away.]
TRASH CAN - There's some tare, an empty cigarette package, and a crumpled kebab wrapper in the trash bin.
Examine the tare.
Examine the cigarette package.
Examine the kebab wrapper.
[Leave.]
TRASH CAN - Two empty bottles of 'Touloula' vodka and a can of black 'Potent Porter' is all you find.
PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Medium: Success] - No. There's more in there. 'Livis' strawberry liquor, plus some pilsner bottles too. Better not pick them up, they seem unhygienic.
KIM KITSURAGI - "A tragedy..." The lieutenant looks in the can, eyes watering from the smell.
EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - He shakes his head with genuine sadness.
2. Examine the cigarette package.
TRASH CAN - Whoever tossed it here was a heavy smoker: the brand name reads 'Red Astra'.
ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - 'Red Astra' is the black market version of 'Astra' cigarettes, known for their high tar content.
3. Examine the kebab wrapper.
TRASH CAN - You see traces of mayonnaise and ketchup on it, as well as a tomato wedge. The wrapper reads: 'SHISH KEBAB REVACHOL'.
VISUAL CALCULUS [Medium: Success] - It's no older than a day, or two. No mould yet.
PERCEPTION (SMELL) [Medium: Success] - It's hard to concentrate in the smell. The sea air brings some relief.
4. [Leave.]
🎵 Disco Elysium
A dead phone. A smashed receiver; like someone hung up too hard.
PAYPHONE - A metal payphone under a yellow plastic dome. You could use it to call someone, unless you're out of change…
Pick up the handset.
[Leave.]
PAYPHONE - You hear the tone -- the machine is operable.
Put 10 cents in and dial a random number: 005-24-03-155.
[Leave.]
Sure, I could use a stress reliever.
PAYPHONE - Calling...
Still calling...
INLAND EMPIRE [Trivial: Success] - This feels wrong. Should you be doing this?
PAYPHONE - End of tone. Someone picks up.
"Pierre? Is that you, Pierre?" The voice is female and sounds about a hundred years old.
"Yes, it's me -- Pierre."
"I might be? What's Pierre like?"
"No, this is not Pierre."
Hang up. [Leave.]
PAYPHONE - "Do you have any news about Pierre?"
"Who is Pierre?"
"No, I have nothing."
"Yes, Pierre is dead."
PAYPHONE - "He's my sister's grandson. He used to visit me as a lad... Fine young man..."
"But who are you then? A salesman of some sort? Modern goods are rubbish. And I can't afford them anyhow. It's a shame what you did to our country…" The woman moans and the phone lines howl in unison with her.
"I'm not a salesman, I was just calling a random number and you somehow ran with it."
"Yes, I'm a salesman. What exactly did we do to your country?"
"I don't know who I am... But who are you?"
"No, I'm a police officer."
PAYPHONE - "I was a baroness."
Pause. There is silence on the other end.
"You won't get me and you won't get my money!"
Phone hanging up.
Disconnect tone.
You know, that didn't actually help. We should probably move on and-
Put 10 cents in and dial a random number: 005-51-17-912.
[Leave.]
Uh.
PAYPHONE - Calling...
Still calling...
AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] - Again? Seriously?
PAYPHONE - Someone with a masculine voice picks up:
"Hello, Girard speaking!"
CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - Hello, Girard. Technically speaking, you're electricity.
DRAMA [Medium: Success] - No, what *you* are is a *surprise*, get his wife on the phone...
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on growing up with "intensive intervention" and abuse as a young autistic trans kid.
(quotes are from neuropsychs and reports, things said to me verbally, my own words/thought processes at different times. tw ABA, dehumanizing clinical language, stim suppression, some transphobia toward the end)
february 6th 2012.
an appealing child
with many areas of precocious development
alongside areas
of definite developmental lag.
diagnostically
meets the following criteria
for a pervasive developmental disorder.
you want more water
pronominal reversal
Alligator alligator alligator
intense and restricted interests.
immediate echolalia.
its too hard to be a girl
too hard to be (deadname)
call me pangoo the penguin
because i'm scared of (deadname).
i like it when it’s cold
i hate it when it’s hot
appears overstimulated by environment
i am never tired
scripted language
i never like to smile when people tell me to
facial expression is usually flat
too soft too tight hurt hurt no touch
extremely opposed to imposed touch
it doesn’t hurt you
it just bothers you
need to control every aspect of environment
but i like it when it’s messy
do you like bedtime? is it bedtime? is it bedtime? bed bed bed
perseverative speech
i’m not good at saying what i mean
severe communication disorder
no is my monster
i only want to point to zoo animals
extremely self directed in play
i don’t want to say that
significant conversational rigidities
(the message is wrong
it’s okay to be sad
but you have to get over it.)
the words stab into the report with grisly black ink
began to behave in a silly manner
primal defense mechanisms
unhealthy involvement with reading
atypical prosody
symbol oriented cognition
disordered phonological processes
appears uninterested in others
needed maximum verbal cues
very spontaneous and overly enthusiastic
and also withdrawn and hyper focused on her own ideas.
my hands fold into my palms in the speech therapist’s office
ripple flutter in a dance with the air
motor stereotypy
often loses focus and becomes squirmy
stilled by a dead end voice
quiet hands
‘physically disorganized’
body messy
they think it’s weird
after all
it’s hard for you to know what other people are thinking
impaired theory of mind
everybody noticed
but they were being polite
and would never have said anything
to you
responds well to a behavioral approach.
may 5, 2018.
acute awareness of needs and vulnerabilities
too old to trick into being compliant
self appointed position as autism champion
i asked her if
when she was little and only read books about alligators
if we should have expected her teachers to respect that.
she said yes
failing of course to consider
that she was in a class with people who had various interests
not obsessions.
insisted that people who are cognitively impaired should not be changed.
having a vagina does not define biological sex????
i am going to have a hard time keeping up with her thought process.
extremely hypersensitive to what is perceived
as non-acceptance or rejection.
i thought you were just one type of weird
but now you have all these different types
i’m so sorry to hear that she
(forgive the pronoun, please)
is miserable right now.
the test was not developed for use
with individuals who are gender non-conforming.
steady growth in mastery of pragmatic language skills
improved social functioning
i am so happy to hear
that she’s acknowledging she needs help
rather than continuing down the path
of “i’m perfect.”
progress intervention treatment success.
barely even autistic.
#actually autistic#actuallyautistic#poetry#writing#traumacore i guess??#aba#developmental disability#trans#autistic#ableism#mushroom.txt
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hehe you asked for questions so i wanted to ask - what do you think inspired doc to get into law? 🧐
(i mean, im assuming he does have a law degree cause there’s no way he could become a court judge without it right? and i’d assume it would be *after* the med degree.)
I've thought of the different possibilities and routes that could have gotten Doc that title and strangely enough a couple things took place today that helped me piece a headcannon together.
*****
When Doc was maybe mid-thirties/mid-forties he had a patient come through Radiator Springs with a severe infection in the lungs that could have been prevented. Their previous doctor had written it off as part of a chronic underlying health condition the patient had and because this infection was completely preventable Doc asked if the patient wished to file a grievance. This was the patient's lungs in danger. With his personal history, Doc wasn't going to just let that slide.
Filing a grievance calls the insurance of the patient and the malpractice insurance of the defending doctor into play. Hearings take place with a patient advocate where its the word of one doctor against another, and if found in the wrong, the defending physician will have that on their record and their malpractice insurance must repay what the patient's insurance originally covered.
While Doc wanted to make sure everything could be done correctly for the patient, he also found the whole process interesting, the research in building an argument and presenting yourself and your findings.
It's also a form of arguing in a sense and we all know Doc loves that...
Anyway, shortly after this instance Doc receives a notice from the state of Arizona that with the last census taken, they see that the population of the community is taking a downturn. Without a certain number of residents, the need for anything more than an acute care facility is highly unlikely. He is given a few options by the time the next census would be completed. Move to a larger populated area, downsize his practice to an acute care (emergency) facility, or 'take an early retirement'.
He's not letting something else in his life be taken from him, certainly after he worked so hard for his certification. and he's not hiring some big time lawyer from the city who probably doesn't care if his practice continues or not.
To get in to law school, a student only needs a bachelors degree and to pass the Law School Admission Test. Doc already has a doctorate and with 'fewer patients' as the state has pointed out to him, he has the time to pick up classes.
Like everything else in his life, he takes the unconventional route and takes the Bar Exam early. The first time just missing a passing grade by a few points and after taking a mental break to recollect himself he retakes the exam and passes a few months later.
So he defends himself against the state of Arizona essentially. While that is a little dramatic, this is Doc we're talking about. Winning his own case, he suddenly has certification in law as well and everyone is coming to him with every little document under the sun. They need a letter notarized or they want their will filed correctly.....
As years pass, he's the only one with legal knowledge aside from Sheriff and because Radiator Springs is apparently the county seat of Carburetor County (that's why the courthouse is there) the state of Arizona appoints him to county judge or 'common pleas judge'.
Basically so he can handle hooligans that tear the road apart in the middle of the night.
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HOOOOO lord, that episode.
Honestly, I’m kinda kicking myself for procrastinating and then deleting my drafts for my final guesses on the secrets because I actually did suspect Arturo for the motive that wound up being correct. I noticed at the beginning of the chapter that Levi didn’t bring up any sisters and I had other suspicions for David (and I’ll get to that) which only left him. But honestly, as much as it seems everyone else thinks differently, I think this episode actually made me go from ambivalent to actively liking Arturo. I feel like we got to see a side of him that was more human and vulnerable. He’s so cold and harsh and dehumanizes everyone else around him, but he still had enough of a heart to feel guilty about what happened to his sister, as if he totally lacked remorse, he probably wouldn’t have reacted as strongly as he did. Veronika and I are very much on the same page when it comes to him at this point tbh.
But going back to the subject of guessing secrets, I’m gonna just loosely and messily rattle off my remaining thoughts without much organization, because I do wanna at least get my remaining theories out there.
First, I’m still convinced David is lying about who’s secret he has and less convinced Teruko is actively lying about not knowing hers as opposed to just not caring or wanting to acknowledge/consider it.
It could be possible that David is a remorseless murderer, but there is contradicting information on that front. Honestly, he’s just a mass of contradictions all around. He says he hates murderers, but expresses joy at the thought of Arei’s killer being punished. He shared his motive with the intent of alleviating tension, but gave a cop-out answer and refused to be honest when pressed. But that latter one gets to me in the sense that so far, in terms of who could have the manipulation secret, David is kinda the only person who’s outward behavior has seemed actively manipulative thus far. I already brought up some of his inconsistencies, not to mention the look he had on his face when talking about how naiive and trusting Arei is, two traits that someone with a habit of using others would immediately take note of. Plus, Ace is both a major league chickenshit who is very acutely aware of his own mortality and physically unable to keep his mouth shut half the time, so if he is being sincere in saying he knows David’s secret, he probably wouldn’t have kept his mouth shut this long if he was a murderer.
“But Laz,” I hear you say, “what about the suicide and self harm secrets?”
Good question, to which I say, let’s talk about Hu and Veronika.
I am pretty dead set on the sh secret being Veronika’s and it has to do with the specific phrasing of it: “You took on your talent to distract from your incessant need to harm yourself for fun.” At this point, we know Veronika has a peculiar relationship to pain and boredom. We know that she enjoys both witnessing and seemingly experiencing suffering and fear but not boredom. Anything is better than boredom. And self harm can include a lot of things, including reckless behavior that could potentially put one’s health or life on the line. It could be possible, then, that she had a history of reckless behavior, or even more directly self-destructive things, because she was incredibly desperate to feel something.
That then leads me to Hu, who is in possession of the secret in question. With some things she’s said so far-- that her secret makes her “uncomfortable” without any indication it’s more severe than that, that you can’t tell if someone is struggling just because of how they look on the outside, and that she doesn’t think her secret will be relevant to the class trial-- it could be assumed she has the history of suicide. Granted, she could also be the manipulator, but as I said earlier, even if she actively interferes in a lot of conflict in the chapter, she doesn’t interfere the way David does. When things happen, Hu is typically quick to shut things down. She doesn’t try and sway people one way or the other, she doesn’t seem to pry beyond what’s necessary, and most of what she does is reactive while David, in some cases, has been a lot more instigatory, like with his pressuring people to fess up despite being closed-off himself. I know that there could be more stuff going on behind the scenes, but shit, there’s a lot going on in the scenes themselves in someone else’s department. And while the two aren’t always connected, there is considerable overlap between people who struggle with SI and people who struggle with SH, so if Hu’s secret is a history of suicide, then maybe she could be keeping the secret she got, which I assume to be Veronika’s, to herself out of a sense of personal understanding.
As for the family and poisoning secrets, I’m still convinced the dead people got each other’s. It’d probably be a royal pain in the ass to factor them in to what already seems like it’s gonna be a wild trial with a lot of information to keep track of and they both seem to fit each other nicely. We know about Xander’s family from the hidden quotes and bonus episode as well as Min’s bonus episode revealing how she got the title of ultimate student: a competition. So I didn’t include them in my thoughts.
That just leaves Levi as the remorseless murderer, but even with everything I’ve said thus far, I’m not sure what to say on that front. I have nothing to defend the idea beyond the fact that he’s been consistently secretive in regards to his past since the prologue and while he’s very clearly calm on the surface, there’s a lot brewing beneath it. We saw as much when he snapped at Ace in the first trial. But again, like I said with David, it seems like there’s contradictory information, namely in the sense that this is about a remorseless murderer and Levi seems extremely fixated on the idea of being a good person and, in my opinion, seems like there’s things in his past he wants to make up for. But there’s also not a lot to indicate he could have any of the other unconfirmed secrets as well.
And I’m not certain about any of my thoughts (except the one’s on Xander, Min, and Veronika. I’m dead set on those for better or worse) but I’m excited to see what’s in store, because at least one of these is about to be confirmed right/wrong real soon. I could probably type out more, but my hyperfocus broke, and when that shit happens, whatever’s in my drafts usually dies in there, so I’ll just leave this as is for now.
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Drift Drive
Seeing the sunrise come up now, not because I’m so timely but because I haven’t slept. Seeing the window-boxes of light shift across the wall, I get a little scared of clockwork and continuums. I get a little scared that it’s all gonna happen whether or not I’m ready. On the flip, there’s a lot of things I want that I’m just not ready for that can’t happen unless I let them, anyway, and I’ve got a way about me, built in now, that just seems to refuse it all...
I’ve got to be real cognisant to be open
I MAKE PROMISES IN THE DEEPEST SNOW.
In the ice palace
The light
Heavy as lead
Built up
These falling drops
Strong and green
A blinding flood
After my drenching in the stars.
IF THE DARK LEFT.
People
Taking place continually
In the bright drifts, in
Other ways.
Everyone knew
About the unknown;
People had seen
Photographs taken that summer;
A glimpse of what goes on
In the universe;
The great lake
Non-existent
The splendid broad
No more.
No night
In people’s memories.
Night turned into a legend,
Fallen into a light river
And carried away.
Do not want to do a thing today. Not class, or the pub, or the dinner, or the dance. It’s the first day in a long time I’ve had this many things to get through and I dread it with an earnestness that surprises me, and shames me, I just want to sleep. Probably don’t do all-nighters, is my advice. Not unless your plan is to remain in bed all day, in a state of half-life, watching old colourful (I loved 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and The Wickerman) or scrolling online in a dazed, dozed over way—or playing The Sims, if all else fails you. Or be on the run, you know, super busy like I guess I am going to be today; I just get a little worried about interacting with others in this state; my words arrive in the space between us like slipped stitches; I’m very aware it's all an error.
So much has happened since I last wrote on here, mostly intangible things, though. I got another small contract book job but immediately regretted taking it on cause I’m just not in the right headspace. Anyways, now got to do it. But as of late, I’ve hit a state of avoidance so severe it seems unreal and almost like a joke I’m playing but oh boy it’s not a joke; oh boy is it ever serious. Sometimes it feels like a genuine nightmare but it’s just me. I cancelled my trip to Vermont and have been a no-show to two different movie screenings I booked (which I typically love to go to, even alone, these were Friday the 13th and It Follows). I have people I genuinely like that I haven’t responded to in at least three weeks or more; jobs left unfinished for two months plus; school assignments due days or even weeks ago and still extremely untouched. Don’t know what gives, but I’m asking. I’m asking Google and Reddit and I’m on a waitlist to see a doctor. Anxiety at an all-time high and barely got time to sort it. When it all gets going, it just has to go till it’s gone. I keep saying to myself that when winter break hits, and snow overcomes the world (I find that white blanket calming), I’ll lay down and look everything in the eye, attempt some recalibration. And I will. I might also go to the Catskills with my cousin, R. Just drive there and sleep a couple days in a hotel and walk under gusty snowed up trees and visit diners, obviously, she and I love doing that. One thing I love about R is that she seems to have this untested patience with me and a deep understanding of who I am and how that makes me operate. Though sometimes it can feel so humiliating to be so accommodated!
So it all hurts but on the plus side, I’ve got my sobriety still! Thank you, thank you. Yeah, she’s cute and nearly a year old, soon to be walking…. I love her like mad. I’ll do everything in my power not to ditch her, because that would make me feel ditched, too. As if that happened, I would miss me a lot. I think the acuteness of my pain is a testimony to my current lucidness, anyway. I’m glad I can feel, even I freeze up under the toll half the time, never sure what to do with it all…
You know Volcano Choir’s song Dancepack? Those lyrics: (Take note, there's still a hole in your heart / And you're shoveling shit and they pay you to talk / My young little soul's unlearning to walk / Clover green / Like bravery done up like a towel sopping wet in the street). That’s what my sobriety feels like! I’m teetering all over the place. And I don’t make “quick friends” like I used to. I’m painfully slow now. Maybe it was always meant to be that way, and whenever I drank, I tried to override that step “the making of,” since it involves a general ambiguity and uncertainty that, due to my personal history, I have a habit of turning dark or against me. I try to force us together very fast, thinking that means we’re saved from ever having to fall apart. But whenever I move fast like that, I sort of betray myself. Reaches a point where I realize I can’t handle it, that I wasn’t even ready to hold anything. Then comes a point where I’m unsure what to test myself with (which connections) as I’m tired of hurting people or trying to apologize the same apologies, or forever and ever explain. Will cut myself some slack here, though, and keep trying.
Ordered some Flavacol popcorn salt online, and purple popcorn kernels from Amish Country Popcorn. What else did I order? I like to order things to make myself feel better! It’s not a permanent fix but it sure is a fucking Band-Aid. These last few months: a medium bookbinding press, a bookbinding cradle, an origami shoulder bag, two Christmas cards, three rolls of washi tape, a sheet of 30 poinsettia stickers, and an ex-libris stamp (it’s a tree with my name below it).
Oh, and I watched 7/8 episodes of Our Flag Means Death season two. I like it a lot, it pulled me out of a depressive state in a way, and I have a theory burning that Blackbeard is asexual. Hard to explain. But I feel it. Especially in regards to his death-bed fantasy of Stede as a merman (which conceals genitalia), his desire to “take it slow” despite the obvious depth of his romantic emotion and there was also his complete 180 on Stede shortly after the first time they have sex, which could have been caused by a sense of dissociation within himself that was spurred on by the act…. Mind you, haven’t seen the final episode, so maybe misreading all that. Not sure why I’m reading into it at all, anyway. Sometimes I watch stuff and have nothing to say about it. And other times I watch stuff and a certain this or that just resonates and gets me thinking…
All this to say, what?
I’m struggling atm! But not with everything.
Just with a lot of things.
If I haven’t got back to you, I will!
I miss reading.
I miss deep reading deeply, that feeling of falling into a chasm of a page, seeing other places, being other people.
I miss Iceland and Edinburgh like hell.
I miss having jammy toast and tea for breakfast.
Aye, I’m up anyway—let me go do that now.
Farewell to the Bravehearts
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Back at the beginning of the year, when I was taking my leave of absence from Tumblr, I drew this picture of a slightly more alien-looking Ziggy. Some details about Ziggy and his species can be found below if you click Keep Reading.
Ziggy Cygnet is the second-youngest child of Sommie and Denyl Cygnet, the heads of the Committee who rule over the country of Anglalond on the planet Ares. Ares is the planet we humans call Mars, and the capital city of Anglalond in which Ziggy grows up is called Freecloud. As one might expect from its name, the natives of Anglalond speak a language that resembles a corrupted version of English. There are several other countries on Ares, most notably one called Rhos where the natives speak a language that anyone who's read A Clockwork Orange would recognize (but that's lore for another story...). As opposed to Earth, there are only five or so countries on Ares, and while each has a very distinct cultural identity, there are constants throughout, in that each country is ruled by an insular, elite group and "freedom" is mainly a privilege of this class. Despite this, they do share a few utopian ideals, such as the lack of a monetary system, therefore ensuring that their citizens don't need to work to earn free housing and food. That being said, no one ever mentioned the quality of housing and food, and whether the elite can hoard it, which sort of makes the lack of a monetary system irrelevant after all.
Physically, Aresians differ from humans in various ways. They lack racial diversity, their skin white as snow due to the color of their blood, which is also white. Their blood is the greatest differentiating factor; not only is it a different color than ours, but it also contains a property that allows their body to heal at a much, much more rapid rate than humans. If an Aresian sustains a wound, it will be healed in a matter of seconds up to several minutes, depending on how severe it is. The only wound that the Aresians' blood can't heal is any damage to the heart, since the heart has to pump blood through their veins in order for the healing to work. They also try not to risk injury to the head, as the brain can be healed but the effect is often that of someone suffering a TBI- their personality often changes. In extreme cases where the damage is extremely severe, Aresians will go into a healing coma and be unconscious for several days while their body repairs itself. Healing at such a fast pace requires a ton of energy, which means all Aresians have a high metabolism, which means that they're all big eaters (despite their physique being naturally slender, as they burn off the energy quickly).
Aresians also have pointed ears, which makes their hearing superior to humans. In fact, all of their senses tend to be sharper than that of humans, particularly hearing and smelling. A common aberration among Aresians is the diversity of their pupil sizes- some are naturally dilated, while others, like Ziggy, only have one pupil dilated. It's unknown what causes this mutation, but those with dilated pupils have excellent night vision (although they often have to wear shades on a sunny day). They also tend to be more physically sensitive than humans, feeling any kind of physical touch more acutely, although to what extent they feel this varies from person to person.
All Aresians are agender. In Ziggy's language, they use the pronouns "ey/em/eir" to refer to everyone. Words like "mother" and "father" are used in a completely biological sense to refer to which person gave birth and which person impregnated the other, though even this language is mainly to describe animals. They reproduce sexually, and have four different sexes- and therefore multiple ways to get pregnant and give birth (although some people are completely sexless). In Anglalond, "free love" is a very popular concept, and in general, most Aresians are intimate in ways that humans aren't (they often hug and kiss strangers when meeting for the first time, for example, and it's expected of them to make conversation with anyone they meet in public, regardless of how well they know them).
Finally, all Aresians have an eidetic memory, meaning that they can remember every detail in their life since roughly the age that they're considered to be "adults" (I guess that would be after they go through puberty, if that's even a thing on Ares, but most people mark it after what we would term as their 18th birthday, which has a ceremony to go with it to celebrate becoming an adult). They can perfectly recall any conversation they have word-for-word, and can also keep track of what time it is down to the very second. Unfortunately, because of their perfect memories, this also means that any bad memories will linger in their mind forever. This is why many public spaces on Ares are made to look drab and as utilitarian as possible, so that the mental stimulation won't be overwhelming. They do have certain places designated for beauty, such as the public parks and theaters. But any depiction of negative things is completely forbidden in public.
Aresians have twice the lifespan that humans do, since their planet's years are roughly equivalent to two Earth years.
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How to design public spaces for girls
When I watch my young daughter use the playground, I witness her confidence and sense of independence grow every time she climbs a ladder or goes down a slide by herself. These skills and emotions are crucial to her development.
While public spaces for children are theoretically designed to be genderless, Gerben Helleman, a Dutch urban geographer, discovered that in many play areas, different children - especially girls - are restricted in their opportunities for play.
Helleman’s research found that two-thirds of children playing outside are boys and only one-third are girls. And as girls get older, this ratio changes dramatically. Girls aged nine years or older are playing less in public space than their male peers, and girls are more 'supervised' than boys.
His article, Girls and outdoor play: looking for more equality and equity, looks at the reasons for this imbalance and how it can be prevented. Based on an extensive literature study, he comes up with some likely causes and possible solutions.
Figure 1. Who plays outside according to gender and age (Source: Playing outside: who, where and what?)
When it comes to why girls play outdoors less, Helleman found that public spaces are often designed to favour boy’s preferred activities. For example, his research found that boys and girls could be found equally playing in playgrounds and natural areas with bushes and shrubs, while the sports fields and lawns were dominated by boys.
The most important activity for girls was climbing, hanging or balancing. The second most important was 'doing nothing': relaxing, hanging out, sitting, watching or talking to other children. Boys were mainly engaged in ball sports.
“If you ask municipality officers what kind of places they provide for the older kids and youngsters, you’ll probably hear that they have several football pitches and skate parks. Due to a lack of user research, they won’t know these facilities are dominated by boys,” said Helleman.
“Research shows that girls only play at places where they feel welcome and in spaces not claimed by other groups, such as boys or older teenagers. Especially girls older than nine years, who don't feel comfortable at what they call ‘boys places’.”
I remember this acutely as a young girl. It’s the reason why I switched from co-ed to girls physical education class in Grade 9. In co-ed class, we had to play team sports where the boys dominated and wouldn’t pass the ball to girls. It was boring and demoralizing. When I joined girls PE, I got to learn self-defense and choreograph dance routines. I never forgot how to properly punch a guy in the face if he tried to attack me, which is much more confidence-building than being ignored during a soccer match.
So, where does this leave public spaces and how do we design them better for girls? According to Helleman there are several ways, including prioritizing safe walking and cycling access to parks, and public safety considerations like better lighting, good sightlines, paths with no dead-ends and locating facilities for teenage girls in well-frequented areas.
Helleman also makes some specific design recommendations on how to create public spaces for girls:
Allocate equal space for play equipment and sports fields - Make play areas big enough to facilitate play by both boys and girls. Terrain for play equipment (such as slides, bars, swings, climbing structures, sand boxes, water places) should take up as much territory as the area for ball games.
Think less in large, mono-functional play areas. Smaller places at one play space prevent girls from being marginalized, which can happen in big open spaces. Create more defined places in a play space with different play types and play activities for all generations and for people with different skills.
Create chill out areas. Besides playing, girls like to chill out. Create places and attributes where you can sit together face to face, hang out, socialize and chat are loved by many girls. That’s why a basket swing or hammock is chosen most often by girls as a place to play, sit, meet and chill.
Offer a bigger variety of play opportunities. Girls stay longer in play areas when there is a bigger variety of play opportunities. Therefore, provide a varied play area that is diverse in color, height, surface, materials, features, activities, and attributes. This offers possibilities for play as well as viewing, seating, and chatting options.
Include materials and places for creative play. Loose parts, including natural materials (sticks, branches, leaves, stones), moldable materials (sand, clay, chalk, water), and man-made objects without obvious play purpose (tyres, crates, ropes) provide opportunities to explore and engage in imaginative and constructive play, which girls like. Another way to stimulate imagination and creativity, is by making places for dancing, moving and (making) music.
Add natural elements (such as trees, bushes and water) that are accessible and playable. Nature often makes gender differences smaller. And perhaps even more than boys, girls are looking for adventure and places to experience, explore, investigate and use spaces for their own purposes (adaptability).
Connect to more gender-neutral forms of play, such as climbing and building. But also in terms of sports: so design a skate park with skate ramps and hills of different heights suitable for roller skates, stunt scooters, bicycles and skateboards, rather than a few very high half pipes that mainly attract male skateboarders.
And finally, make girls part of the planning and design process. “To incorporate the wishes and needs of children - and girls in particular - it is necessary that they have a serious role in the planning and design process,” said Helleman.
You can read Helleman’s full article here and check out his excellent blog, Urban Springtime, for more content on designing child-friendly cities. You can also watch the event that inspired it, ‘How do we make a city for an by girls,’ organized by Stadsform and Kind & Samenleving.
#Child Friendly#family friendly cities#cities#urbanism#Public Space Projects#girls#playground#Landscape Architecture#public spaces#design#women
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Harper Shepard
Harper belongs to @yanara126. Thank you for submitting!! I’m very happy to have her on the blog :)
Backstory - Spacer.
Background - War Hero.
Class - Infiltrator (she develops weak biotics after being rebuilt by Cerberus).
Alignment - Paragon.
Lover(s) - Had a relationship with Liara during the first game, but later fell in love with Tali.
Best Friend(s) - She could never choose between her children.
Harper is the daughter of Hannah Shepard and Viola Hackett (Admiral Hackett’s daughter), and so lived much of her life on spaceships. Due to her mothers’ different stations she often had to choose between them, not seeing the other for several months or sometimes weeks. These long and frequent separations eventually cause her mothers’ to drift apart. They eventually peacefully divorced when Harper was 17 and had moved in with her grandparents for a year to finish her education on earth. She still has a good relationship to both her mothers and her still living grandfather, though of course chain of command can make it a bit awkward at times.
Her hobby is music in general and the harp and violin in specific. She’d always been drawn to intruments plays quite a few of them at least on a basic level but eventually settled on, much to her mothers’ amusement, the harp and later the violin. She briefly considered a career as a stage musician but quickly decided to follow her family’s footsteps.
Harper is naturally somewhat melancholic, not helped by trauma that just keeps piling up for her. She is calm, collected and a natural leader and diplomat though she is perfectly capable of agression if she thinks it appropriate. This is paticularily relevant when interacting with krogans, since krogan diplomacy does often involve some degree of violence. She has certainly headbutted a few of them. Due to both her personality and what happened on Elysium she finds it difficult to surrender responsibility to someone else, preferring instead to be personally involved in pretty much everything, for better or worse. She is compassionate and friendly but does expect a degree a of discipline from her crew. That said, she is not above jokes, and eventually got a water spritz bottle specifically for the purpose of using it on Garrus when he said or did something she considered stupid (like suggesting killing hostages, we do not do that here, Garrus). She called it a pedagogical tool. Overtime it became and in joke with Garrus and the whole crew, and Garrus would repeated try and fail to steal the bottle from her. She values her crewmates deeply, makes it a point to have a friendly relationship with all of them, often becoming much more than just a superior to them (or employee in some cases).
She developed a relationship with Liara during the first game. She doesn’t tend to look very far into the future, always very acutely aware of her own mortality sometimes to an obsessive degree, but had life proceeded somewhat normally and had Liara eventually asked to settle down she wouldn’t have said no. When she met Liara again after dying and being revived by Cerberus she was initially overjoyed but soon noticed that Liara was simply emotionally unavailable at that point. It hurt her quite a bit, but at that point she had already started to process that it had been two years for everyone else and she couldn’t really blame her. Assuming that Liara had started a relationship with Feron in the meantime, she vowed to help her save her new boyfriend and move on from their prior relationship.
Now, Tali had developed a bit of a hero crush on Harper during the first game, which she very slowly painfully overcame when she grieved her over the two years prior. Nonetheless, the chemistry remained and though Tali once again found herself drawn to Harper, albeit in a more mature and less heroworshipping way. The two grew closer over the course of the Collector mission and eventually got into a relationship, which lasts even past the war with the reapers. (@yanara126 has quite a few headcanons for what they do after the games, but that is a behemoth for another post).
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The Tea Girl's Gambit, Chapter One
[CW: transphobia, internalized transphobia, crushing loneliness]
I woke disoriented from dreams of swirling snowfall in narrow, cobbled streets. It took me a moment to figure out where I was. The white plaster ceiling, close enough to touch. A narrow, wood-paneled room. A bustling, bare-chested boy just visible over the edge of the bunkbed...my roommate?
Oh.
Oh. I was in Oakridge House, at Harmine University. I felt a wave of relief wash through my rib-cage. I had made it. I had placed high enough on the merit exams. I’d gotten out. I wasn’t stuck in that frigid little mill town anymore. I had...classes?
I sat bolt upright, smacked my head on the ceiling, and fell flat again, swearing and rubbing my head through my jumbled mop of dark curls. Had Alexi seen that?
He had.
He was laughing at me.
“What bell is it?” I groaned.
He shrugged. “Ninth? I think.”
As I rubbed my head, I peeked through the messy fall of my hair, admiring the gliding play of muscles in Alexi’s back as he turned and stretched. He was only a year or two older, but his body fit together, like it made sense, and the curves of his pectorals above his taut stomach looked so...yummy.
I flushed a little at the thought. It was envy, that was all. It must be, right?
In comparison, my own chest was disappointingly flat and shallow. I was hyper-conscious of how ill-suited my body was, how it just wasn’t right. I was short, scrawny, but also somehow lanky, like a bedraggled bird with half its feathers gone, or a half-drowned cat. The worst part was that I felt like everyone knew it, like I couldn’t hide my own discomfort with myself, my own awkwardness.
I sighed quietly. If only I could act easily, fluidly with people, like Alexi. I was uncomfortably aware of how many friends he had, while I had...well...none. So far. It was only my first term. Well, almost second term. Okay, time to stop thinking.
I rubbed my face and kicked off my blankets, then scooted down the ladder. I was wearing pajamas that I’d begged from the School Laundry along with my standard issue linens and blankets. I was acutely aware that they were several sizes too large.
Alexi didn’t look at me, busy packing his spellbooks into an expensive-looking leather case embossed with a flashy allegiance insignia. Glumly, I headed to the washroom. It had always made me uncomfortable, the brusque indifference that boys showed each other. Like I was born with the wrong expectations, like my body was anticipating a world of interaction that was warmer and more friendly, something...else.
I relieved myself in the water closet, then splashed my face with hot water (the plumbing here was incredible, after growing up in Stuhkrad) and shaved. I looked unhappily at my face—too many things wrong with it to count. Better not to linger looking at it. I shoved the feelings down into the compressed ball of leaden resignation I was used to carrying around in my ribcage.
When I got back to the room, Alexi was gone. Our room wasn’t very large to begin with, but he’d made it considerably smaller with a beautiful, polished oak desk. He’d even asked me first, which I thought was nice. Come to think of it, he proposed most—okay, all—of the ideas for our shared space, and I had gone along with them agreeably. I didn’t take up very much space, after all, and to tell the truth I liked it that way. It seemed right, somehow.
I threw on some of the baggy, dark clothes I’d brought from home (this accurately described all my clothes, actually) and, hauling my bookbag, hurried through a maze of courtyards and corridors, bustling with other students, to the morning frenzy of the dining commons.
Though Harmine drew students from all over the Imperial Democracy and even from adjoining nations, with a wide variety of different hair-styles, eye-shapes, skin-colors and accents, almost everyone wore the same muted neutral colors that were in favor with the Yavenese Imperial Standards. I shuffled along with the press of bodies, attracting no notice, keeping my head down.
I slipped through the packed dining hall, full of knots of shouting, laughing boys and long tables of students with bleary faces and dark half-circles under their eyes, also mostly boys. I slunk to the least busy corner, grabbed a handful of food, and fought my way back outside. I sat on the wide shallow steps with a scattering of other students, munching a cold sausage inside a dense roll of black bread and reviewing my notes from yesterday’s lecture. Students streamed past me, up the steps and into the dining hall.
The sunlight was making my paper notes too bright to look at. I hunched over my notebook, trying to shade it. A gusty fall breeze swirled showers of giant golden maple leaves around the wide courtyard like a tumble of coins. I looked up from scanning scrawled equations, closed my eyes and took a long breath in through my nose. The sweet, loamy smell drew me into a deep current of nostalgia for the mossy forests and cool streams my child-self had played in.
I sighed softly and opened my eyes, and immediately stiffened like I’d been gut-punched. There was a girl in front of me, coming up the steps. Actually there were two girls (rarely did girls walk anywhere alone here, I had noticed) but I unintentionally locked gazes with this one as soon as my eyes opened.
She looked a few years older than me. She was wearing a thigh-length navy skirt and jacket, over a creamy white blouse. I saw her serious mouth, and a light furrow between her eyebrows as she studied me and then an intensely clear yearning boiled up and kicked me in the stomach like a draft horse—ah-shit-I-wish-I-could-look-like-her—as I looked in her eyes. Eyes that were like vernal pools on the forest floor, filled with brown leaves, still and dark, except for when they rippled mysteriously with some deep movement.
All of a sudden, I realized I was staring and dropped my gaze to the steps between us, my face rapidly flushing hot. Damn it! I knew this yearning. It didn’t always happen, but sometimes, when I looked up and saw a strikingly pretty girl, it came utterly unwilled, a helpless reflex. And I would know—I would know—that I could never admit this to anyone because then—
Something compelled me to look shyly back up at her, and I saw she was still looking at me with that faint furrow, not quite a frown—was it pensive? Was it curiosity? Then they were past me. I sat there, hunched and hot-cheeked, for a long minute, then groaned in confusion and put my head in my hands.
Girls had always stirred a deep-set craving in me—a craving that was utterly unlike the fascination I felt towards some boys. It was a craving that made me deeply uncomfortable. Not just because it was entangled in a sexual lust that felt too intense, like I was trapped on an out-of-control carriage careening down a much-too-steep hill, but also because—oh no, the hot clawing plunge into shameful memory—
~ ~ ~
I had been on the roof of the featureless gray block of the tenement back in Stuhkrad with my older sister Kisma. We’d both grown up here. The sunset sprawled glorious and bloody across the horizon. We were both sitting on the edge. I kicked my feet over empty space and looked at her. She took another drag and passed the thick-rolled cigarette to me. I took it automatically but didn’t bring it to my lips. Tobacco made my stomach hurt but I still liked to come up here with her for her smoke break. It was our time.
“Kisma...” I hesitated.
“Mm?”
The words were so heavy. I struggled to lift them out, to show them to her.
“What do you think about, um, a-about, you know, um, k-kuffa?”
“Kuffa?” She raised an eyebrow at me. There was no scorn in her voice, which emboldened me a little.
“Yeah, you know, the people who, um, change into girls.” I had to look away at this point. I couldn’t show her the truth in my eyes. The words began to rush out of me. “From boys, I mean. Or from being girls, into boys. Or somewhere between?”
“Eli,” she said slowly, “why are you asking me this?”
I stared into the gory dying of the sunlight. My throat was tight, my heart flooded with panic and shame and unmourned grief. She was right. This was too dangerous of a question to ask. Imperial social hygiene propaganda was brutally clear about exactly what citizens should think of degenerates. And there were informers everywhere. My foolish hope that I could alleviate my crushing loneliness, even with someone as close to me as Kisma, was just that—foolish. The next question I had readied—whether she would be willing to call me Ellie, instead of Eli, at least when we were alone—died and turned to ash inside me. It was just dumb luck that I hadn’t blurted that out, too.
“N-no reason.”
“Okay, okay,” she sighed. “Look. If I were to think anything about...them, it would be questions. How? How do you even do that? And here? Here, in Stuhkrad? And why? Oh, Eli, why? Surely there’s nothing that’s worth being hunted and hated like that?”
I risked a glance and saw her staring at me, stricken. I looked intently at the concrete I was squeezing with bloodless knuckles. I’d dropped the cigarette, I noticed.
“You already have such a hard time with those lunatics that hurt you after school. If you—they would murder you, Eli.”
I nodded stiffly.
~ ~ ~
Tenth bell began ringing and I stuffed my notes away and hurried to class.
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did he try to make any friends in the academy?
random asks ( even though i asked for it ) | ALWAYS ACCEPTING
ooo, loaded question here.
the answer is both yes and no.
aizen, when he first got into the academy ( on his first try for that matter ) was viewed with some disdain. it's very rare, i imagine, for a shinigami to come from an eightieth; the only other one that aizen knows about is kenpachi of zaraki, though they came from different locales in regards to an eightieth district. because he was very obviously from the rukongai and quite feral, he didn't really have a lot of people trying to make friends with him. he had a rather thick accent at the time, a tendency to shorten words, use slang, things of that nature and the result was that his fellow classmates quite often looked down their noses at him. i've always been of the mind that, given the classism in the rukongai and from what we see in the series itself - particularly with renji and rukia - it wouldn't be unheard of for other people from the rukongai to view those from "lesser" districts with an air of "i'm better than you because i didn't come from the shit hole you did."
and when aizen began to polish his speech up and expand on his vocabulary, it was seen at that point in time as him trying to imitate his "betters" since there were several minor nobles in his class with him at that point in time. these days, aizen's accent only comes out when he's drunk and that means that gin's the only one who's heard it because he's the only person that aizen gets drunk enough with to the point where said accent begins to pop out. but back then? it was something that was touched on and derided to some degree, that working on bettering himself. aizen was seen as absolutely strange while in the academy, being bookish, paying attention even in the boring classes, being smart and often displaying signs of introversion. but he began to open up after his first year or so and that was when people began to discover they were interested in befriending him.
aizen had plenty of love confessions while in the academy, when he started his third ( and final ) year of classes so he was making friends, at least marginally, while in his third year. the problem was was that aizen found the people around him dreadfully transparent. he had no interest in being fought over by people who had a crush on him. he found the people tedious. by this point, too, aizen was acutely aware that he was far stronger than all of his peers at that point in time ( honestly, he was probably very near to lieutenant strength alone during the Academy and he was only a child then. ) and that was also a source of isolation for him.
he also did murder two teachers while at the academy, though. he had reason for it. one of them was abusing his female students in that very particular way which was used to exploit them. the other was worse. he doesn't feel sorry for it.
but any 'friends' that aizen made were amongst the people he found the most tolerable. not only that, but the friends that aizen did make were ones that, over the years, he was able to glean favors from due to their positioning in other divisions. of course, that's not exactly friendship. so ... he did try. he actually did. but success where this is involved...? yeah, i would have to say not really.
hiyori, actually, became one of his first real friends and he was always genial to the other lieutenants; he saw no reason not to be. but hiyori, gin, and kaname are the only people that i could safely name as being friends with aizen, though to varying degrees. he needs more friends. he really does. i promise that he'll behave himself if you become friends with him.
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Introduction
Important: This is a fanfic blog about the fictional and fantasized relationship between a high school student and an adult teacher. It is a romance, not a tragedy.
There will be explicit content.
Please do what is necessary to keep yourself safe and comfortable and please do not make it my problem.
the original ask
this blog is written and run by @alifeasvividid
this blog accepts asks, but is not an ask blog.
Chronological Masterpost
Fics are written and posted in non-chronological order. When a fic occurs in the timeline will be in the post title, formatted as follows:
Title; Year that Alfred is in i.e. sophomore (~15 y/o), junior (~16 y/o), or senior (~17 y/o) + month or season; Rating
About this AU:
Alfred F. Jones, high school student, is popular and very bright. His peers love him and his teachers sing his praises as one of the star students. He is good at everything he tries. He is also on the swim team and the speech & debate team. He is both typical and exceptional: loves video games and hanging out with friends, but he also loves learning and often seeks out extra credit assignments in his classes. He is cool and casually confident with charisma up to his eyeballs, but he is also very sweet and kind and wants to be friends with everyone.
Arthur Kirkland, a first year teacher in his early 20's who recently finished his master's degree, is starting his career as an English teacher. He is very passionate about teaching and making a difference and with his semi-delinquent past not that far in his past, he is good at relating to students, even the less-engaged ones, and so he quickly gains a reputation for being The Cool Teacher, which he enjoys, but he's well aware of where to draw the line in his interactions with students. He also becomes the coach for the speech & debate team.
Summary and context: Arthur Kirkland did his student teaching semester under one of the other English teachers at Alfred's school, this was the second semester of Alfred's sophomore year. Alfred developed a major crush on him (as did many of the female students). At the end of that year, Arthur had completed his degree and was set to find a position elsewhere, so he said goodbye to the students he'd come to know, which broke Alfred's heart. Over that summer, however, Arthur was offered a position at the school when one of the teachers retired.
Alfred, who had fantasized all summer of Arthur somehow miraculously returning (leading into other fantasies), is thrilled to find out his wish has come true.
Arthur is excited to see Alfred (and several other very bright students whom he had enjoyed working with), but not at all for the same reasons. In his eyes, his students are just kids and it is his job to teach them and help them in any way he can.
Alfred believes this is his chance, that there's actual potential for him to have a relationship with Arthur. The depth and sincerity of his feelings override the knowledge that it would be very illegal.
Once Arthur realizes what Alfred is doing, on the other hand, he wants to put a stop to it, but he finds it inexplicably impossible to reject his student outright and he hates himself for it.
Arthur is acutely aware, far more so than Alfred, that it would have terrible consequences for both of them, which would be a shame since they both have so much potential.
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