#might make a post with a link to my account tomorrow perhaps

[solarpunkani]

hi would like to make this clear that this is gonna be an unhinged rant about my college classes.

For context, one of my classes is a semester-long group project (hell) and I pitched the idea of solar powered community fridges to my group and we rolled with it. Here's a post i made on it previously. We don't have to make the fridges themselves, basically just talk about the problem our concept addresses (food insecurity in this case) and how we think this concept would work and how, in a hypothetical reality where we made it real, we would test to see if it worked.

Anyways we had to post the rough draft of our presentations so people in other groups could see what we were doing and comment on them with their thoughts and all. Yknow. Classic 'college class discussion board have to reply to at least one project with quality feedback' stuff. And

Man.

I am so frustrated.

Highlights:

My group keeps insisting that we should have an app for the solar fridges. I don't know why they think app design needs to fit into community fridges but they put it into the draft posted to the forum.

In this case they proposed the app would be kinda like Instacart? Where people who want to donate to the fridges but don't have groceries on them and don't feel like going to get groceries can put in money and then people will then go buy the groceries to put in the fridge. Or use the funds to help with fridge maintenance. And the fridges would have 'QR codes, links, etc. to connect community members for the common cause of helping tackle food insecurity in the community.'

Lots of the comments were pretty good! People liked the idea. There were some concerns about insulation and keeping things cool with low energy cost (the program is online but the college itself is in Georgia USA so many people are in Georgia) but yknow.

But the frustrating part to me I guess is that a lot of people seem convinced that people would use the fridges 'unfairly' and that we'd need to find a way to restrict how much food people can take out or how many times they can use it or something. Which frankly in my opinion defeats the purpose of it being a community fridge. Here are some examples of things people have said so far (comments are due tomorrow evening but I'm mad now so I'm venting now):

One student said "How will you know if the pantry is being utilized fairly?" and "How will the app work? In a dream world, this might be a way to help with tracking and accountability. (Just a thought…) Maybe folks would need to sign up on the app, they get a code… and the fridge acts as a sort of vending machine to deliver what they need. This would give you data to measure success. :)"

Which. I just. This feels completely antithetical to the purpose of a community fridge??? Or a community anything???? Little free pantries and little free libraries don't operate on a 'you get a code to access it once' vending machine basis?? We even mentioned community farm stalls/community pantries in the draft write up! And showed examples!

Another student said "Great thoughts. I am concerned about one person taking all the food for themselves. It might be a great idea to have them in an enclosed area with access control through the app that would log and lock out people who are overusing the resource. Perhaps a barcode could be added to Apple Wallet to track each individual's arrival? Possibly having a mechanized lock and opening mechanism that would only allow each fridge to be open for a specific time before automatically closing and locking? Each scan would only allow access once each 24-48 hour period, preventing "password sharing.""

I cannot emphasize enough that this is the comment that has brought me here today because with all due respect what the flying fuck do you think is the point of a community fridge! I'm already prickly about the idea of limiting access to the fridge itself to only people with cellphones, but to this degree?! Like maybe its because I'm the one who came up with the concept and I care about terms like 'mutual aid' and 'community building' and 'judgement free accessibility to food' but have these people not heard of the concept of helping people?!?! With no strings attached?!? If someone takes all the contents of a community fridge or pantry--which, seriously, how likely is that--they're probably hungry and need it! The concept of putting community resources behind a lock and limiting accessibility is just repulsive to me???

Like someone else commented with this excellent point--"As several have addressed above, I am also wondering how would you monitor use? If you use the simplicity of the honor system, it could easily be taken advantage of. However, I feel like if you were to create some sort of access code, how is it to say that they people needing the use of the fridge will have access to the necessary technology to get the code? It's a tricky situation to think about." For the purposes of this hypothetical assignment where we'd need to track how many people are using the fridges? Yeah I guess we'd need to be able to track how many people use it and when. But in reality??? In real life reality where people are living and struggling and hungry??? I just don't really give a shit!! Helping five people is better than helping none, and locking access behind technology everyone pretends is universal but really isn't is not the way to help!

And of course one of my groupmates is already commenting on all these posts like 'oh! I really like the idea of restricting access to a code! :)' even when someone said 'hey my family struggled with food insecurity when I was a kid and I think this would be helpful but not if you could only access it with an app some of the most vulnerable citizens wouldn't be able to access it I wouldn't have been able to access it' my groupmate was still like 'oh but that wouldn't be a problem today now would it? :) Maybe we should make a way to get a code without downloading the app :)' like maybe there shouldn't be an access code in the first place?!?!

Like am I crazy or like. What the fuck. Again I am here so I don't blow up on a bunch of masters students in a discussion post but like UGH

"you gotta be able to gague if the people who're using it are the people who actually need it" food insecurity can look so many different ways for so many different reasons and you can't always judge by appearances and income levels who is struggling to feed themselves or their families!! There are people who have nice jobs who are struggling because they're caring for sick family members or kids or dealing with student loans or ANYTHING! There are people with nice clothes who are trying to decide between buying groceries and paying rent! There are people living in their cars or couch surfing looking for jobs who also happen to own an XBox or a Laptop!!! "Sorry you can't access the community fridge because you don't look poor and needy enough to me. but if you do, good news--you can only use it once every 48 hours so make it last!" Bullshit utter bullshit.

I talk to people in my life about things like community fridges and little free pantries and mutual aid and the like and people are always like 'ok but theres gotta be strings attatched' BUT ACTUALLY NO THERE DON'T GOTTA!!! Maybe we could change how we view our fellow human beings and stop assuming that everyone around you are greedy little demons looking to ruin everything good and that you are the only holy and righteous saint on the streets who understands the concept of 'community resources' and 'sharing' maybe??? It's like that post about community fruit trees where people are like 'oh but what if people steal all the fruit' like HELLO? how do you STEAL a PUBLICALLY ACCESSIBLE RESOURCE

I'm tired of this goddamn class I'm tired of this goddamn group project if anyone actually has the ability to make a solar powered community fridge you have to promise to keep it accessible and not put it behind locks and QR codes and limited access and facial tracking BS promise me promise me promise me

#out of queue #community fridge #i am going to go INSANE this class is driving me INSANE have yall not HEARD OF ACCESSIBILITY #AND COMMUNITY RESOURCES???? #ani rambles #solarpunkani is solarpunkangy

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Jack Ohman, Sacramento Bee

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

March 26, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

MAR 27, 2024

At about 1:30 this morning, local time, the Dali, a 985-foot (300 m) container ship operating under a Singapore flag, struck the steel Francis Scott Key Bridge in Baltimore, Maryland, that spans the lower Patapsco River and outer Baltimore Harbor. The bridge immediately collapsed. 

Eight maintenance workers were on the bridge repairing potholes when the ship hit. Two were rescued from the water, but the other six remain missing. Search and rescue operations were complicated by twisted metal and debris from the collapsed bridge. This evening, the Coast Guard called off its search. Tomorrow morning, divers will begin recovery efforts.

It is possible there were motorists on the bridge, too, but fewer than there might otherwise have been. Crew members issued a “Mayday” call—an internationally recognized word meaning distress—that Maryland police heard. At 1:27, police radio recorded an officer saying a ship had lost control of its steering as it approached the bridge, and to stop traffic and evacuate the area. There were cars submerged in the water, but they may have belonged to the construction workers.

The loss of the bridge will tangle traffic and disrupt supply chains. Named for the Maryland lawyer who in 1814 wrote the poem that became the national anthem, the Francis Scott Key bridge carries I-695, the Baltimore Beltway, and is used by about 30,000 people a day. 

The Port of Baltimore is one of the nation’s largest shipping hubs, especially for both imports and exports of cars and light trucks. About 850,000 vehicles go through that port every year. So does more than 20% of the nation’s coal exports. In 2023 the port moved a record-breaking $80 billion worth of foreign cargo. Now the shipping lane is closed and must be cleared of debris. 

“There is no question this will be a major and protracted impact on supply chains,” Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg said from Baltimore today.

Perhaps learning from the 2023 East Palestine, Ohio, train derailment, when the government response was fast but quiet and thus opened a window for right-wing complaints they weren’t doing enough, the administration was out front today. Buttigieg rushed to the scene from a trip out West, and Maryland governor Wes Moore told reporters Buttigieg had called him at 3:30 am, just two hours after the crash.  

By around 6:00 am, the National Transportation Safety Board already had a team of 24 people on the scene to launch an investigation into the cause of the collision. 

Speaking today, President Joe Biden said: “I’ve directed my team to move heaven and earth to reopen the port and rebuild the bridge as soon as…humanly possible. And we’re going to work hand in hand…to support Maryland, whatever they ask for. And we’re going to work with our partners in Congress to make sure the state gets the support it needs. It’s my intention that federal government will pay for the entire cost of reconstructing that bridge, and I expect…the Congress to support my effort.”

Former member of President Obama’s 2012 campaign Jason Karsh noted Biden’s speech and said on social media: “[B]ecause Biden got infrastructure spending done for the first time in over a generation, and because [Pennsylvania] was able to rebuild that bridge that collapsed in record time, Dem[ocrat]s have the credibility to say things like this. Competence in government matters.”

It remains far too soon for any solid understanding of what caused the deadly crash.

Despite the impossibility of solid information in the hours immediately after the collision—or perhaps because of it—verified accounts on X (formerly Twitter) began spreading conspiracy theories. They posted that the accident was linked to terrorism, Jewish people, or diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) programs. “Did anti-white business practices cause this disaster?” one posted. Conspiracy theorist Alex Jones wrote that the collision was “deliberate” and that “WW3 has already started.” 

Technology reporter Taylor Lorenz, who studies social media patterns, explained in the Washington Post that many of these accounts are “engagement farming.” This is the practice of posting extremist comments to generate attention, which can then be monetized by, for example, getting a cut of advertising that appears near those comments. Comments with heavy engagement can receive thousands of dollars. 

For a long time now, America’s political right has riled people up with wild political rhetoric to get them to buy stuff. Just today, Trump began to hawk Bibles for $59.99, plus shipping and handling, with a video message saying “Religion and Christianity are the biggest things missing from this country, and I truly believe we need to bring them back…. That’s why our country’s going haywire—we’ve lost religion in our country.” 

That system appeared to be in play as Trump supporters apparently flocked to today’s public offering of the Trump Media & Technology Group, the company behind the Truth Social app, sending the stock upward 16%. That surge would value the company at more than $7 billion, although in the first nine months of last year it had only about $3 million in sales and lost nearly $50 million. Julian Klymochko, founder and CEO of Accelerate Financial Technologies, told NPR’s Rafael Nam that the $7 billion valuation “is completely detached from any sort of fundamentals.” 

Buying stock in the company is “more of a political movement or just a speculative meme stock [a stock driven by social media] that’s completely detached or unrelated to the underlying business fundamentals of Truth Social,” Klymochko said.

As well as convincing supporters to buy products, extremist rhetoric can push them toward violence. Yesterday, John Keller, the head of a Department of Justice task force set up to protect election workers, told reporters Trump’s lie that the 2020 presidential election was stolen has put the U.S. in a “new era” in which election workers are “scapegoated, targeted, and attacked.” 

Today, on his social media network, Trump attacked individuals related to his upcoming election interference case. He lashed out at one of the prosecutors on Manhattan district attorney Alvin Bragg’s staff who previously worked for the Justice Department; Judge Juan Merchan, the judge in his upcoming criminal case for election interference; and the judge’s daughter. Of the judge and his daughter, Trump told his angry followers: “These COUNTRY DESTROYING SCOUNDRELS & THUGS HAVE NO CASE AGAINST ME. WITCH HUNT!” 

Legal analyst Joyce White Vance of Civil Discourse called out Trump’s “rank effort at intimidating the judge by threatening his family,” which she said “merits a gag order but also serious pushback from [Republican] leadership—which we know won't come.” 

Republican leadership indeed stayed quiet, but the judge noted Trump’s pattern of using  “threatening, inflammatory, [and] denigrating” statements against individuals in his legal cases and placed a gag order on him. Merchan noted that in the past, Trump’s statements had intimidated the individual targeted and required them to hire protection. 

Trump can still talk about Merchan or Bragg, but he cannot comment on any attorney, court staff member, or family member of prosecutors or lawyers. He can’t make statements about any potential or actual juror. 

Other news today suggests that Americans outside the MAGA bubble are turning against the poisonous politics that appeals to fear and hatred so its perpetrators can gain money or power.

The outrage over NBC’s hiring of former Republican National Committee chair Ronna McDaniel was so strong that today the chair of NBC News, Cesar Conde, emailed staff to tell them he had “decided that Ronna McDaniel will not be an NBC News contributor.” McDaniel had trafficked in lies to support Trump and had worked with him to overturn the results of the 2020 presidential election. 

When the U.S. Supreme Court heard arguments in FDA v. Alliance for Hippocratic Medicine today, observers thought the justices seemed inclined to back away from the decision of extremist antiabortion judge Matthew Kacsmaryk taking the abortion drug mifepristone off the market. Antiabortion activists have long sought to ban abortion nationwide, but a strong majority of Americans support reproductive rights and have made their wishes known at the ballot box. 

Voters’ frustration with the extremists who have captured the Republican Party appeared to be behind the results in today’s special election for a seat in the Alabama legislature. There, voters in a swing district elected a Democrat, who ran on protecting abortion access, to replace a Republican. In 2022 that Democrat, Marilyn Lands, won about 45% of the vote. Today she won almost 65% of it.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#letters from an american #Heather Cox Richardson #infrastructure #the courts #corrupt SCOTUS #Ronna McDaniel #GOP extremism #Baltimore Bridge

[flowerstardrops]

( LIKE ) akaashi keiji x gn!reader

wherein the reader confesses through a love letter ( email ).

cross-posted on my ao3 so if you see this there, then that's most likely my account.

WORDS: 1834

GENRE: comedy, one-sided crush

────────────────────────

DEAR AKAASHI KEIJI,

Good day. This is (Last Name) (First Name) from Class 3-6 and I am writing this letter to convey my feelings for you. My friend, Rei, had told me that this is one of the best ways that I can confess to the individual that I hold romantic feelings for, which is you. I had initially planned to make a bento for you but I then crossed that out when I accidentally burned the tempura along with my hand in the frying pan during the process, thus, I was not (and still not) able to fulfill such. Thankfully, my left hand was salvaged from the incident so I am able to type.

Firstly, I would like to ask how you are. I hope that all is well. I heard that Bokuto-senpai, your teammate, accidentally spiked a volleyball to your face a few days ago. I searched online and have found this thing called the “RICE” technique. And no, this is not a joke about soaking your face in rice to fix it; Rei likes to joke about that to me a lot, but do not worry, I do not make lame jokes. I applied the same technique to my right hand and it is now healing up well, thankfully. I will be inserting an attachment which obviously includes the link containing this RICE technique at the end of the letter. Please view it and follow the technique in the video if you have not done so yet.

Secondly, I will be stating the main reason as to why I am writing you a letter. I like you, Akaashi-san, and I do not think that I can say this to you in real life. I like to think that I am a great writer, but I cannot say the same for my verbal communication skills. It is the same status as my cooking skills and love life: non-existent. But with this letter, I hope that my feelings are starting to get across by now.

Lastly, despite the fact that I have mentioned my lack of verbal communication skills, I would like to make a request. If it does not trouble you, perhaps you would like to go on a date. My friend, Rei, had also told me that boys are usually the ones asking girls out on dates, but alas, I am no man and you are no woman. Although, I am sure that I might still like you the same even if we were. I am going off topic. Anyway, whether I am a man or a woman, it does not matter to me.

If your answer to the date is yes, then please meet me by the Ginkgo trees near Fukurodani’s basketball court, right beside the vending machine at exactly 3:00 PM tomorrow after classes end. I had asked Bokuto-san whether you all had practice during Thursdays, and apparently you did not.

If you do not go, then that is alright with me as well and I will no longer bother you. Please do not feel pressured to accept my feelings. I would hate for you to feel that way. Rest assured that I will accept whatever response you provide me with.

Thank you and have a nice day ahead.

Sincerely,

(Last Name) (First Name)

Fukurodani Class 2-3

> [ lastname.firstname@yohomail inserted an attachment ]

> https://youtu.be/xvFZjo5PgG0

PS. if you are not able to press the link, I suggest that you copy and paste it on your browser instead. I hope this helps.

────────────────────────

YOU WOULDN’T CALL YOURSELF COURAGEOUS. Such a word was quite loaded considering that there are situations that you would rather not face, but you could say that doing this; confessing to the person you like, is a courageous step on your part. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re scared. Simply standing here by the vending machine, being caressed by the cold wind passing by aids in causing your heart to continue racing. It also causes you to shiver, and so you hug your arms tighter around you, pulling your hoodie close against your skin.

You yawn. It’s one habit you do whenever you are nervous. Akaashi-san could appear from any moment now, after all, and the anticipation causes you to yawn once again.

But then, there is also this probability that he wouldn’t show up at all. If you were to estimate the probability that he returns your feelings, you could say that it’s not zero. You’ve interacted with him enough to see that he at least doesn’t dislike you—if the act of simply glancing at you whenever he would enter Bokuto-san’s classroom and you happened to also be there, was considered an interaction at all. It’s not even a glance; just a passing look as he searches for Bokuto-san.

The first rule of probability states that the probability of an impossible event from happening is 0, while the probability of a certain event is 1. So, given Event A being Akaashi coming here and returning your feelings, you could say that 0 ≤ P(A) ≤ 1 with P(A) representing Event A. The equation means that the probability of Event A is greater than or equal to zero and less than or equal to 1. Still, that is simply one facet of the multifacets of outcomes that this one scenario can possibly bring and it doesn’t allow you to predict anything at all. It was a desperate attempt to stabilize and comfort yourself.

You aren’t comforted, worse, you are left at a standstill.

“(Last Name)-senpai.”

You jolt amidst your musings and stare owlishly at the newcomer.

You don’t like watching cheesy rom-coms and would much rather prefer to watch informative videos (e.g. the unexplored parts of the Earth’s waters which subsequently informs yet also scares you), but you could say that gazing at him feels like something straight out of a rom-com movie.

Akaashi Keiji stops to stand right beside you, in all his straight-faced glory, looking as cool as a cucumber right beside you. His ebony hair shines against the dewy light of day; the Ginkgo's green leaves filtering out the sunlight, but still somehow emphasizing the features of his face with its highlight. His eyes, straight and sharp ocean blue gazing at you with its usual intensity like raging waters, hidden behind glassy vitreous humour (i.e. the liquid that keeps the eye moist). There's still a bruise by his right eye but it doesn't make him look less breathe-taking to you. His lips, typically set to a straight line, is now quirked slightly downwards along with his furrowed eyebrows make you question whether something wrong had happened.

“Are you okay, (Last Name)-senpai?” He glances down at your bandaged hand. "And how is your hand by the way?"

You cough behind a hand lightly and stand straight, patting the imaginary dust away from your hoodie. “Yes, I am f-fine and dandy, Akaashi-san. My hand is well. I had applied the RICE technique which I hope you are aware of by now."

The corners of his lips quirk up and you internally panic. You had a step-by-step flow prepared for you to follow for an efficient and effective romantic confession, but it all had been thrown out the window all of a sudden.

“... !” So, you stand straight there, unsure of what to do, and avoiding his searching gaze.

“(Last Name)-senpai,”

You jolt once more. “Yes?”

He starts off slowly. “I have received the email you sent yesterday.”

You nod with your arms crossed and respond to him matter-of-factly. “Yes. Yes, I did send one. I am glad the email was well-received and not corrupted.”

No! Why would I say that? Why would it even be corrupted?!

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Why would it be corrupted?”

Yes, why would it?

You shook your head shortly. “Yes, why would it be corrupted? It is merely just an email containing my romantic confession after all. No hacker would be interested in attacking such a file with malware.”

He simply nods along, although you can see the confusion start to show on his face.

He doesn’t know where this conversation is going and clearly, you don’t either. So, with all of the courage you’ve spent saving up in your entire current lifetime, you take a step.

“Akaashi-san.”

“Yes?”

“If you have received my email yesterday then I must assume that you are aware of why I had given you the choice to meet or to not meet me here. Meeting with me here would indicate that you reciprocate my feelings, yes? And you are here right now, yes? Unless I am imagining things right now.” You almost stutter with your continuous sentences. You could do without the embarrassing last sentence but you’ve done well. Give yourself a pat on the shoulder.

He nods his head. “Yes I am well aware. Although,”

You deflated and it seems that he’s noticed this. Still, he continues on mercilessly.

“I felt that it would be rude if I simply did not show up.”

You admire that he is at least softening the blow. But the damage is done and you could feel the corners of your lips twitching down and the sting behind the back of your eyes. You did not anticipate this: to even be crying at all. You had spent the last few months planning and backing out on this confession, and you have strengthened your will to wholeheartedly accept whatever response he provides you with. As it turns out: You cannot completely rationalize your emotions nor can you always predict it. It is irritating.

You nod your head slowly. “I-I see. Do not worry about it, Akaashi-san. Rest assured, I will not bother you from now on.”

You make a move to bow deeply. “Thank you and have a nice day ahead.”

“Wait.”

A hand grasps the edge of your hoodie’s sleeve. You turn to look at him. His face is serious and stance is firm, and yet, his eyes turn softer. You don’t know. It is a disgustingly cheesy thought to even have, but you like to think that it did happen.

“Yes, it is true that I don’t reciprocate your feelings.” He began.

You nod in reassurance, standing up straighter as he releases his hold on your sleeve. You are now both facing each other and you can see the stress showing through the crease between his two slightly narrowed eyes.

You confirm firmly despite the twinge of pain. “Yes. Yes, we have already established that.”

“But that is because I’ve yet to get to know you.” He pauses, switching to speak less formally. “If it’s okay with you, (Last Name)-senpai, I’d like us to be friends and get to know each other first.”

Your heart fills with hope and you cannot help but stare at him with wide eyes.

“And maybe, we could go on that date once we have crossed that bridge.” He finishes off with a smile. It’s not wide and it doesn’t show his set of pearly teeth, but the corners of his eyes crinkle that you can’t help but do the same.

“Y-Yes. Yes, I would like that.”

His smile grows a tad bit wider and softer. “Please take care of me.”

────────────────────────

© flowerstardrops — do not commit any acts of plagiarism. i do not condone anyone stealing or copying my works, and especially posting these on another platform.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #y/n #gender neutral reader #haikyuu anime #akaashi keiji x you #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x gender neutral reader #akaashi x you #akaashi x reader #fukurodani #awkward reader #haikyuu headcanons #headcanons #akaashi fluff #comedy #fluff #one sided love #pining #haikyuu crush headcanons #haikyuu romance #haikyuu fluff #flowerstardrops

[sasquapossum]

End of an Era

I’ve had an online presence for a long time. The earliest I can remember was various forums at the University of Michigan in 1983. In 1985 I joined M-Net, which was one of the earliest and biggest public-access UNIX systems (Linux wouldn’t exist for another decade). For a long time there was Usenet. In 2000 I started blogging, and have accumulated something more than 1500 blog posts over the years. Here are some of the different ways I’ve done it.

Hand-written HTML files

My own blogging software written in PHP

WordPress and three other roughly-similar systems

Markdown files “compiled” into static HTML

Shared hosting

Cloud hosting

Hosting on my own machine at home

Most recently I’ve been using a dedicated service, kind like Tumblr but without the social features, plus Twitter and Facebook and now of course Tumblr itself. It’s a lot of digital footprints, to be sure.

It’s time to start cutting back on some of those - notably the ones I keep paying for even though they no longer attract more than a trivial amount of attention. I’ve already downloaded all of my data from my old blogs. I’m in the process of unpacking and testing it to make sure it’s complete and not full of broken links etc. Assuming that all works, I’ll be shutting down those accounts some time later today or tomorrow. There are about a dozen or so posts that I could imagine people asking for some day, in which case I might patch them up so they can be hosted somewhere for free, but for most purposes Canned Platypus (the name of my blog for most of its various lives) will exist only on a USB drive in a drawer somewhere.

I know it’s probably hard for some people to understand, but this is a pretty momentous moment. I spent hundreds - perhaps even thousands - of hours writing all of those posts. The fact that I was a reasonably well known tech blogger played a significant part in advancing my career for a long time. Blogging also helped me refine my socio-political views, and hone my skills in arguing for things I believe in. It’s how I posted all of my pictures and videos, including of my daughter for the first few years. I’ll miss it, but the simplification and cost savings are more important at this point. Bye bye, blog.

[adventuresinclientservice]

Breakfast on Pluto

Many of us recognize the actor Cillian Murphy – that’s pronounced “Gillian” with a hard “G” where the “C” appears -- for his leading role in the epic movie Oppenheimer, or perhaps in his turn as Tommy Shelby in the long-running Netflix series Peaky Blinders, but I knew him years before, as a star-in-the-making for his daring, courageous role in Breakfast on Pluto.

Tomorrow I will board a plane to travel to a place not as distant as the furthest planet in our solar system, but quite the journey nonetheless. 

I’ve been writing about this for months, with Roberta and I (finally) traveling to Bucharest, to attend the International Advertising Association’s Annual Conference, where I will speak on Why Client Service is an Art.

Among the sixteen speakers, I am the only one who proudly claims to be an Account person, so I feel more than a little responsible for representing my Account Management brothers and sisters as well as I can.  The challenge is made more acute by anxiety, accustomed as I am to battling a case of nerves before going on stage, especially when the stage is really, really big, the crowds really large, and expectations really high.

“Is there pressure?” 

A little.   

“Is the presentation done?”  

It has been done for months, and in recent days I’ve been rehearsing it, rehearsing it, and rehearsing it some more.

“Can I see it?”  

For those of you in New York or elsewhere in the East, if you’re willing to rise at 7:45 am on Tuesday, October 31, you can log in and stream me live; just let me know you’re interested and I will email you the link.   For my West Coast friends and colleagues, it would mean rising three hours earlier, at an ungodly, pre-dawn 4:45 am start time. 

I’m certain I would not rise that early, especially knowing my speech will be recorded for subsequent viewing.

The presentation has easily been through at least one hundred revisions, maybe more, but it got its start the way I conceive many of my presentations, in the most unassuming way imaginable:  on a single sheet of paper filled with initial thoughts.  I ultimately transformed those scribbles into a 105-slide, 45-minute explanation of its title.  

For some reason I saved that page; its origins are here for you to view if you’re curious.

I will try to post again from Bucharest, or from Paris, which is our four-day layover on our return to Napa, but if Paris prevails and what you receive instead is radio silence, patience is the word until I return to the keyboard the second week of November. 

In the interim, if you need something brief and (mostly) digestible to occupy you while you’re riding on the subway or picking up a carryout order, you might want to click on the “Archive” section in the navigation above, to browse the other 739 posts chronicled there. 

Among my favorites is a post that includes links to several others, each of which serves as a tribute to the departed, among them my Creative Director friend Shelley Lanman, and Media colleague Mike Lotito, and my hero Tom Petty, now enshrined among the singing/songwriting gods.

Perhaps these could tide you over until I’m back in-country, ready to regale you with tales from abroad.

#international advertising association #Annual Conference Speaking #advertising #marketing

[kvetchlandia]

I Haven’t...

regaled all of you folks with a rant in a while.  Well, here comes one.  You’ve been warned.

Those of you innocents who don’t live in the United States might very fortunately never have encountered a horrid creature called Marjorie Taylor Greene.  Consider yourselves lucky.  We in the US have had to deal with her almost constantly for the past 18 months, much to the dismay of at least some of us.  She first entered public view for most of us back in late 2018, when she stated that the wildfires then devastating California, a product of global climate change, were actually caused by top secret space lasers controlled by the Rothschilds, who wanted to burn down California for reasons she didn’t make clear since it was enough just to invoke the name of a Jewish banking family in order to cause her reactionary, racist and anti-Semitic posse in Trumpworld to shudder and gasp  Well, today she came up with another doozy.  She was whining about the power of Nancy Peolsi and what she thinks of as the persecution of poor Donald Trump and his minions who attempted a fascistic putsch against the government on Jan 6 of last year.  In Taylor Greene’s shpiel, she made reference to Pelosi and, I kid you not, her “gazpacho police!”  Seriously.  These are Taylor Greene’s actual words:

“Not only do we have the D.C. jail, which is the D.C. Gulag, but now we have Nancy Pelosi’s gazpacho police, spying on members of Congress, spying on the legislative work that we do, spying on our staff and spying on American citizens who want to come talk to their representatives.”  

Lest you want to give her a pass, thinking she was perhaps the victim of an autocorrect run wild, which has probably happened to most of us, kindly remember that Marjorie Taylor Greene is a semi-literate buffoon and because of that, she didn’t actually write those words.  They’re a transcription of comments she made on a right wing propaganda television outlet, and here’s the link to her complete comments, should you want to torture yourself by viewing them:

https://www.thedailybeast.com/marjorie-taylor-greene-rants-to-oan-about-nancy-pelosis-gazpacho-police?fbclid=IwAR0vHG0rqssXufdkxWnHaTk4H0m2RT3BpgPJBrSWlV7-jEr9dubmeth3xAU

So, we in the US are dealing with a drooling knuckle-walker, a hairy-palmed moron, a cretinous mouth-breather who is actually an elected member of our government, a woman whose place in that government gives her a role in the writing of laws that will effect the lives of tens of millions of people and who doesn’t know the difference between a chilled Spanish tomato soup and the murderous members of the nazi gestapo.  Marjorie Taylor Greene is a member of the House of Represents from Georgia.  Among her Trump-worshipping colleagues are the child-molester Matt Gaetz, a Representative from Florida; Jim Jordan, a member of the House from Ohio who previously worked as an assistant wrestling coach at Ohio State University and who covered up the sexual abuse of 8 members of his team by their coach; Madison Cawthorn, a nut job Representative from North Carolina who is one of the fanatics who worked up the putschist Jan 6 crowd from the podium, and too many others to waste my time naming.  Oh, and it’s almost a forgone conclusion that His Wannabe Imperial Highness, Generalissimo, Field Marshall and Smartest Person Ever Born, Pussy Grabber Donald Trump I, will run for president again and could very possibly be elected.  We in this country are so screwed...and sadly, on account of the position of the United States in the world, so are all the rest of you who don’t live here. 

OK, rant is completed.  After that, I really don’t have much desire to post any photos.  I’ll probably get back to that tomorrow.  For those of you who actually read my rant, thanks for indulging me.

[n00dl3gal]

Like Old Times (Father-Son Bonding AU)

A direct sequel to the “Expiration Date” fic, which I’ll link in a reblog. I’ve also posted all my fics in this AU to AO3!! Thanks again to @thetriggeredhappy for their help and just generally being a cool dude, and the Scoutsune Discord server for indulging my brainrot

No warnings beyond family schmoop!

Less than an hour after the bread monster incident, the Administrator called for a ceasefire. “Only while your base is repaired,” she said over the TV screen. “BLU is quite disappointed in this negligence- as am I. Regardless, you may use these three days as you see fit. Go home, stay here- whatever you do, no more bread monsters.” The screen turned off with a click. 

Scout exhaled through his nose. He was thankful there was no mention of him or Miss Pauling’s woodchipper. 

Spy decloaked behind him. “Less time than I wanted, but c’est la vie.” Scout looked at him over his shoulder. “I’m meeting with an old contact during our break,” Spy said in Italian. “Would you like to come along? It’ll be like old times.” 

Scout’s brow furrowed, but he nodded. At least this way, he’d get out of helping Engie and Heavy with repairs. And possibly meeting Miss Pauling’s woodchipper. 

“Excellent. Our flight is at 7 AM tomorrow.” 

“We’re flying commercial?” Scout asked, also in (more hesitant) Italian. 

“Our destination is continental. We’ll leave the base by 5:30.” Scout groaned as Spy started to leave. But- wait, he hadn’t- 

“Oi, where are we going, anyway?” he called back in English. 

Spy paused to look at him and smile. “Boston.” 

“Why do we always get the ass-crack-of-dawn flights?” Jeremy asked groggily, reclining his seat.

“They are the ones with first-class seats available,” Raphael replied. He took a sip from his mimosa. 

“Yeah, cuz God forbid you fly coach for once.” Jeremy shifted, trying to get comfortable. “Hey. Have I ever been to Boston before?”

Raphael didn’t answer immediately. His lip sucked in, as if in thought. “Yes. When you were very, very young. You wouldn’t remember.” 

Jeremy nodded. He wanted to ask more, there was something Raphael wasn’t saying but… well, he was never a morning person. He fell asleep before the plane even took off. 

. . .

It was mid-afternoon by the time they landed in Boston. Jeremy was never fond of long flights; having his legs cramped like that for extended periods of time was murder. He was half tempted to take a jog around Logan International. Raphael, on the other hand, was ushering them both to the car rental. “Can’t even get a stretch in, huh?”

“Unfortunately, we are expected by 4, and I would hate to keep my contact waiting,” Raphael explained in French, accepting the keys from the girl at the counter. “She’s not a very patient woman, in some regards.” 

Jeremy huffed but didn’t argue. He just followed his father to the rental, tossing his suitcase in the backseat. “Y’know, the girl at the counter-” 

“We will not have time for you to go out on a date, Jeremy.” 

“No! No, it was- her accent’s kinda like mine, it’s weird,” Jeremy said. Raphael started the car. “Cuz I’ve only been here as a baby, and I got mine from TV and shit. It’s just… really strange, is all.” 

Raphael made a quiet noise of agreement. “Some of the shows you watched as a child were filmed here. It’s not as complex as you think it is.” 

“Yeah, probably not…” 

The pair lapsed into silence as Raphael drove. Storefronts and high rises morphed into houses. It had been a while since they were in a residential area. RED, for understandable reasons, kept away from civilians. 

Raphael took the roads with practiced experience. Sure, it had been implied he knew the area. If he had a contact here- one with a house, presumably- he must’ve spent time here. But this- this was far too familiar. A bit suspicious, actually. 

Eventually, Raphael slowed in front of a more rundown Brownstone. Still quite nice, just needed a little work. It felt… welcoming, in a way Jeremy couldn’t name.

“Lotta cars,” he observed as Raphael parallel parked. “Must be a party going on somewhere.” 

“Hmm, perhaps,” Raphael said, turning the car off. “Would you mind ringing the doorbell for me? I need to grab something from the trunk. Ask for Sara Jane.” 

OK, now Jeremy knew something was up. He was never the one to make the first contact, that was always Dad’s job. Jeremy might be a full-grown adult, but there were some things that didn’t change. This was one of them. 

Still, he nodded. He climbed up the front steps and ringed the doorbell. He heard- multiple voices from inside, predominantly male, but they quickly silenced themselves. A TV, perhaps? They really ought to get that flower box on the second story window fixed- 

The woman who opened the door was a bit shorter than him, though not by much. She was wearing a simple dress, hoop earrings, and flats. Her hair was dark, curved to her chin. But her nose and earlobes felt… achingly familiar. Like Jeremy saw them all the time. 

“Um, hi, I’m looking for Sara Jane? My name’s-” The rest of his speech was knocked out of him as the woman launched herself at him. Jeremy braced for an attack, but quickly realized she was… hugging him. 

She was hugging him, sobbing, and choked out the word “Jeremy.” 

Wait. He knew that voice. He had only heard it a few times in his life, few enough he could count them on one hand, but he knew it. “M-Ma?” he whispered. 

The woman- Sara Jane- Ma looked up at him, still crying. Her hands found his face as she observed him. “Y-yeah, sweetie, it’s me, it’s-it’s your ma,” she said. 

“Ma!” he laughed, tears of his own dancing down his cheeks. He hugged her back, practically lifting her off her feet. “Oh my God, Ma! I-I never thought I’d-” 

“Oh Jeremy, sweetie, look how tall you’ve gotten! Last I saw you, you fit in my arms! My baby, my handsome baby,” she spoke over him. She rubbed circles into his back as they embraced. It felt so, so right. 

Jeremy laughed even harder. “Are you kiddin’? I got it from you, you’re beautiful, Ma!” He stared at her, trying to commit every mole and wrinkle and perfect flaw to memory. “I can’t believe- oh my God, I’m actually meeting you!” 

“It was long overdue,” another voice said, as Raphael joined them on the front stoop. “I had put it off for safety reasons, but considering our current, ah, situation… I felt it was worth the risk.” 

Sara Jane squealed, pulling Raphael into the hug as well. “You’ve been taking good care of my boy, you promise me, Raphael?” 

“Don’t worry Ma, he’s the best dad I could ask for, considering,” Jeremy teased. 

“Oh, don’t I know it. Called me up last night and told me to get the whole motley crew together. Even managed to get Melvin to bring his twin daughters, bless his wife’s heart,” she explained. 

Jeremy blinked. “Uh- Melvin? Daughters?”

Sara Jane laughed. It sounded so much like Jeremy’s it practically hurt. This was his mother. Lord, he’s finally seeing her. “Melvin’s your older brother, sweetie. Eh, sixth oldest. Bobby’s the oldest.” 

“I have a brother?”

“Oh honey, you’re the youngest of eight,” Sara Jane said plainly. 

“...fuck,” Jeremy whispered. 

. . .

He didn’t just have seven brothers. He had seven brothers, four of which brought their wives, one who brought his boyfriend, and three who brought their kids. And the kids totaled to an additional six, counting the babies. 

It was… an admittedly tight squeeze in the living room. 

Sara Jane introduced Jeremy. Jeremy had been expecting to be treated like a stranger. He had vanished when he was a baby, after all, and his younger-older brothers probably wouldn’t remember him at all. 

And yet, it was like he knew them all his life. 

They teased him and punched him playfully and acted so friendly, so familial it nearly made Jeremy break down. He was still crying from meeting Ma, but being dogpiled with so much affection was suffocating. In a good way. He had seen on sitcoms the intrinsic bond between family, and while he felt it with Dad, they also risked their lives nearly daily. But it was real, it was here, and it was wrapping him in a warm blanket. 

Despite the chaos and the sheer number of people, Jeremy didn’t feel overwhelmed. He laughed and played along with their jokes, cracking some back when he could get a word in. Scott ragged on his dog tags, he countered by pointing out the hole in his pants. Michael told him he was still a shortass, he replied with “it takes one to know one.” Elliot and Ricky were the closest to actually getting hurt, and that was only because Jeremy elbowed them both so hard they nearly fell over. 

For the first time in 25 years, Jeremy understood what “home” meant. 

The kids were especially curious, eager to meet their uncle and step-grandfather. Within seconds, young Rebecca- only four years old- was challenging Jeremy to a race around the house. “I’m the fastest kid in the world,” she bragged, puffing out her chest. 

“Oh yeah?” Jeremy asked. “That a fact?”

“You wanna test me? I beat Johnny Three-Legs at running, and he’s got three legs!” Jeremy laughed and stood from the couch, letting her lead him outside. “On the count of three, OK?”

“You’re on, pipsqueak,” Jeremy teased.

“Onetwothree GO!” Rebecca yelled, taking off in a sprint. Jeremy knew that, by all accounts, he should beat her. His legs were longer, she didn’t have the proper running stance, and it was his job to be fast. That’s what he got paid to do. But some small voice was telling him to let her win, so he did. “Ha! I told ya!” 

“Ya sure did,” he replied, mock panting. “Look at you, a freaking blur on the green. You’re goin’ to the Olympics, kid.” 

Rebecca beamed and hugged his leg. “Promise, Uncle Jeremy?” He nodded because, after that display, there was no way he could speak without squeaking like a chew toy. 

Rebecca skipped back inside, past Raphael, who was watching on the stoop. “You’re a natural with children,” he observed. “I used to do the same thing when you were that age.” 

“Wait- wait, really? You sure fooled me,” Jeremy said. 

Raphael rolled his eyes. “What’s my job again, mon lapin?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Jeremy leaned against the railing, watching Raphael’s cigarette smoke in the wind. “Hey. Uh… thanks for arranging all of this. You really didn’t need to.”

“But I did. I meant it when I said this was overdue. I’ve been wanting to introduce you to the rest of the family for a while, but have been unable. Then that whole ordeal with the supposed tumors, and-” Raphael exhaled slowly. “It wouldn’t have been fair to you if you died without knowing them. I would’ve never forgiven myself.” 

Jeremy punched his shoulder lightly. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, pops. It all worked out, we’re still kicking, and that roast chicken Ma’s making smells incredible. Everything’s perfect.” 

Raphael finished his cigarette and smiled. “Oui. It is.” 

. . .

While Sara Jane had been able to get the rest of the family here, it was a school night. Kids needed to be tucked in by 9:30, so most of Jeremy’s brothers were gone by 8. Elliot was staying overnight, as was his boyfriend. Otherwise, the house quickly went from bustling to barren. 

It gave Jeremy a chance to explore his would-be childhood home.

He made his way upstairs, pushing open one of the doors. It led- to little surprise- to a bedroom. It was set up like a nursery, with a crib in one corner and a toddler bed in the other. Toys were scattered about across the floor. 

He heard Sara Jane sigh behind him. “This was your room, you know.” Jeremy turned to look at her as she flipped the light switch. “That crib… I had put you to bed the night your father planned to fake his death. I was in on the whole plan, naturally. He wanted to hold you one last time, so I said OK. When I woke up the next morning… you were both gone.” She exhaled slowly, grabbing onto his shoulder. “I wrote both of you off as dead, but I knew what had happened. Honestly, should’ve figured it out before then. You hadn’t woken me up crying,” she joked. Her eyes were watering. 

Jeremy hugged her, pulling her close. “You never took the crib down?” 

“By the time I was ready, Bobby’s wife was pregnant, so I kept it up for my grandbabies. I knew- I knew you were out there, sweetie. Both of you.” She kissed his cheek, squeezing him.

“I-I never got to be a normal kid, really,” he confessed. “I mean, Dad did his best, gave me comic books and board games and stuff, but-but I never went to school or made friends or anything like that. I-I didn’t even know I had a family. It took me forever to even realize I had a Ma. An-and everything I did-” The tears were flowing again, more freely than earlier. “Ya missed me losing my first tooth, and potty trainin’, and all that stuff parents should know about. I-I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Sara Jane wiped his cheek dry. “Don’t apologize for what your father did, Jeremy. And definitely don’t apologize for me not potty training another kid. Besides… hold on, I’ll be right back.” She made her way down the hallway. Jeremy didn’t follow, instead deciding to examine the crib. This was where he grew up. It was a simple crib, obviously well-used. Not worn-down, mind, just… used. It had a history. A history that Jeremy wanted to decode, but unlike his dad’s ciphers, he didn’t have the key. 

“Took me a second to find it,” Sara Jane said. She handed him what appeared to be a scrapbook. “Raphael- he wrote when he can. Taught me some basic codes, would send out letters whenever you’d leave a town. Never left a return address, but…” Jeremy flipped through the pages, moving to sit on the small bed. The letters were all coded but appeared to be about how much Raphael missed Sara Jane. Updates on Jeremy’s growth. Letters from a father to his lover and son’s mother. 

One page jumped out to him, though. “I remember this,” he said, running his fingers against the paper. It was a simple drawing of a young boy, holding a catcher’s mitt, and a taller man next to him. “I drew this after Dad took me to my first baseball game, for my eighth birthday. I thought I lost the drawing after we skipped town, but- he sent them to you?”

Sara Jane nodded. “And I kept them all. Oh, honey, the day I first heard your voice on the phone- Mikey can tell you, I damn near fell over. You sounded so happy, and even if I couldn’t see you, that’s all a mother wants.” Jeremy leaned against her and she shut the book. “That’s all a mother wants, sweetie. To see her kids be safe and happy.” 

“I am, Ma,” he assured her. “I promise.” 

They sat like that for a while, with Sara Jane commenting on various letters and drawings in the scrapbook. Apparently, Raphael sent her money when he could- more frequently now that Mann Co. paid so well. She also had a rough idea of their current occupations. “I figure, if you and your father are working for the same company- with his skills, there’s gotta be a whole lot of nonsense going on out in that desert.” Jeremy laughed at that because she wasn’t wrong. “But I also figure since he raised you right, he’ll keep the both of you safe.” 

“I keep him safe too, don’t worry,” Jeremy added. “Uh- listen, it’s touching and all you kept the crib, but I don’t have to sleep in it, right?” 

They both had a good chuckle over that. Their laughs were in perfect harmony. 

. . .

The next two days were a mix of learning the family history and exploring Boston. It was the offseason, so there weren’t any games going on at Fenway, but Jeremy still got a picture in front of the park. Sara Jane took the pair to a restaurant that served “the best damn clam chowder in the contiguous United States.” Which, incidentally, led them to discover Jeremy was allergic to clams. Thankfully they didn’t have to go to the hospital- he just sort of immediately got sick before it passed- but it did suck.

It was damn good chowder, though. 

They went down to the harbor where the Boston Tea Party happened. It was crowded with people, resulting in them not staying long. Jeremy was a bit better with crowds than Raphael, but neither was great with them. Came with the job. Getting overpriced memorabilia from a nearby gift shop, though, went over much more smoothly. 

When not out on the town, Sara Jane dug out more scrapbooks and photo albums, catching Raphael up on what his stepsons had been up to. She showed Jeremy pictures from Ricky’s first school play to Scott opening up his butcher shop. Graduation pictures, wedding pictures, baby pictures- it was all there, and Jeremy devoured it. He wanted to know these people. He wanted to know his family. And he did. He learned about Michael’s stint in the Navy, Melvin meeting his wife, how Bobby’s son could dribble a basketball for twenty minutes straight. He learned about how his parents met. How Raphael loved each of Sara Jane’s children, even if they weren’t biologically his. How Jeremy wasn’t planned- few of the kids were - but they were both so, so happy to realize he was coming. 

He also learned that, while diner food would remain the undisputed king, homemade meatloaf came pretty close. 

. . .

The only problem came when it was time to leave. It wasn’t that Jeremy didn’t want to return to work, or leave his Ma behind. Sara Jane wasn’t even torn up over losing her son and lover again. It just felt like there was so much left to say, to do. There was uncertainty as to when they’d be able to return. “We get time off for Smissmas, I know that’s months away but I’ll be here, I promise,” Jeremy swore, hugging Sara Jane for the eighth time. 

“You better,” she said, squeezing him tightly. “You have 25 years worth of gifts to catch up on, not to mention birthday gifts-”

“Ma, you don’t have to go that far,” he whined. He was touched, sure, but the thought of that much luggage was truly frightening. Oh God, he was going to have to get gifts for everybody, wasn’t he? What do kids even want for Smissmas? 

“Hush, let me spoil my baby,” Sara Jane told him, kissing his cheek. “Oh, Jeremy…” 

Jeremy nodded. “I know, but I’ll call. I’ll write, too. Send pictures if I can.” 

“I’ll make sure he does,” Raphael assured her. Sara Jane stood to kiss his lips, with Jeremy looking away pointedly. “You have my word, ma petite chou-fleur.” 

“Alright, alright- now get going, I don’t want you two missing your flight. That boss of yours sounds like she’ll tear you both a new one if you’re late,” Sara Jane said, shooing them away. “Love you boys!” 

“I love you too, Ma!” Jeremy shouted back, for the very first time. 

The drive back to the airport was quiet. Jeremy stared out the window, watching his hometown- he had a hometown- pass by. “Hey, dad?” he asked, still looking outside. Raphael grunted to acknowledge he was listening. “One of these days, our contracts with Mann Co. are gonna expire. We’re gonna have to find new jobs.” 

“Yes, that’s correct,” Raphael said. He tapped a rhythm against the steering wheel. 

“And-and I was thinking when that time comes… maybe we could come back to Boston. Find some gigs out here,” Jeremy suggested. 

Raphael sighed. “Unfortunately, being a spy means that you don’t have the option of retiring, Jeremy. Not until you’re unable to complete your job. At that point, though, you’ve probably died a dozen times over,” he explained. “Even if I could retire, settling down somewhere so close to people I care about- I would still have enemies.” 

“Right. ‘Course,” Jeremy said. “It’s OK.” 

“That being said,” Raphael continued, “you have the luxury of youth and not being tied down to such a career. If you want to find a job in Boston after we finish with RED, there’s nothing stopping you.” 

“But people will still be after me, since I’m your son. And you wouldn’t be around.”

“Every child leaves their parents someday. And you’re strong, Jeremy. You can protect yourself and your family.” Raphael smiled. “I don’t believe Sara Jane needs much protecting, but I do worry.” 

Jeremy laughed. “I mean, did ya see the muscles on Scott and Michael? Guys can probably bench press a tractor!” 

They both chuckled before settling into quietude. Eventually, though, Jeremy had to break the silence. His voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, mon lapin.”

“...so your nickname for Ma is fucking ‘little cauliflower?’ What the hell, Dad?” 

#father-son bonding au #Team Fortress 2 #team fortress 2 au #tf2 #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 scout's mom #dad spy #thetriggeredhappy #spy x scout's ma #noodle writes

[twdmusicboxmystery]

Just seen a R3dd1t post where a CRM helicopter was seen flying around last week and shooting at the Terminus site, so....did Beth go there and take it over as a base? Is it a flashback showing C@r0l had help from the CRM to take down Terminus?? (wacky theory I know, but she seems to be hiding something...)

***Before I answer, quick note. I have one more post from 11x09. The one about Sam’s drawing and Negan leaving. I ended up with a super busy day yesterday and didn’t get it finished. So, pushing it until tomorrow. But it’s still coming. I promise. Okay, onto your question.***

This actually makes me super happy. One thing very few people remember from the S5 filming has to do with a nighttime (iirc) car chase that happened somewhere around Terminus.

So, of course us TD-ers always focus on the cabin where Emily was scene, and a little on the white church. But there was another part of the filming that was never seen, and at which Emily was NOT seen.

Pretty much all it said was something about a high-speed car chase, with many of the principal players involved. I'd have to go try to dig it up to see who was specifically mentioned, but it was just some of the major members of TF, like Rick, Michonne, Maggie, etc.

And it said it happened near Terminus. It was unclear if that meant it was part of the Terminus story line, or simply that it was filmed near the same location as the Terminus set, which would mean it might not have anything to do with Terminus at all.

Now there's evidence of the CRM at the Terminus site? Hmmm.

Look, most of us have thought Terminus would come back around at some point, even if it's just in flashback. For myself, I've always thought Beth would end up there at some point, perhaps searching for TF. They left a bunch of stuff there she would recognize. If she found Glenn's riot gear, or Daryl's poncho (total headcanon of mine) at Terminus amongst the dead, she might assume all of TF had died there. Total conjecture on my part, of course, and certainly doesn't account for all angles. Just things I've considered.

Finally, consider this. There were defunct cop cars at Terminus. We've always seen that as a possible link between Terminus and Grady. If we're right that there's a link between Grady and the CRM, then it stands to reason that there would be a tie between Terminus and the CRM.

So, I don't really have an answer for you in terms of how this all fits together, but it does make me happy to hear this. Thanks Dear! Xoxo! ❄️😘

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

[captainjimthepirate]

January 15th 2022

Well today was a pretty ok kinda day. I woke up on the Pelican and it was much warmer than I was expecting perhaps it was because I was able to sleep in until about 9 am today and that is pretty late for me compared to the 5 am I am used to during the workweek.

I was rested and happy for the day off from my Taxidermy job but was soon filled with disappointment as I did my usual checking of my affiliate marketing home page to find out that not only did no one buy anything that night but also I got even fewer clicks on those links than any of the previous days. However I still was not discouraged and started on the task of growing my social media accounts and so began my day.

At some point during this I was contacted by another youtuber and proposed the Idea of me joining a video he is making tomorrow for his channel. I would be a contestant on a “dating” show of sorts where the bachlorett would ask questions of us contestant in order to choose one to date. I asked him if I had to be sincere in looking for someone to date and he assured me that no it was for entertainement purposes only and so I agreed as the exposure would be good for growing my channel. After discussing said activity with my Marisella of course and with her agreement I think it might be good for gaining more subscribers on youtube.

Another odd thing that happand while growing my social media accounts is a post I made responding to a twitter post about covid and my unvaxinated status as well as my desire to stay at home rather than go to a hospital if I get covid garnered a slew of attacks from people pushing for me to be vaxinated and though i did not respond to said attacks still they are posting about me as I type. After viewing my analytics however I am not at all upset for the argument over me has gained me not only alot of exposure but also a few new followers on the platform.

Other than that there was not much else to they day. I had intended to spend some time with my children today but christopher being sick put a stop to that though parker did come and spend some time with us at Marisellas apartment in the evening. It was mostly a lazy day today and I did enjoy it mostly. the bus got cleaned up a bit today and the ducks cage cleaned but other than that just a much needed relaxing day.....goodnight and I look forward to tomorrow 

#captain jim #busconversion schoolbusconversion tinyhome bus ishtam homeiswhereyouparkit tagwagai skoolie skoolielove vanlife vwbus skoolienation travel l #adventure ontheroad projectvanlife wanderlust vanlifeexplorers vanlife vwt camping camperlife campervan roadtrip camper vanlifers vanlifesty #luffy zoro piratesofthecaribbean halloween jacksparrow pirateship art anime ocean onepiece piratecrew cosplay disney gaming pirates cosplaye #makemoney networkmarketing workfromhome business entrepreneur marketing affiliatemarketing digitalmarketing makemoneyfast affiliatemarketing

[pokemon-ninjago-world]

Headcanon/Pokéninjago version of Lloyd’s identity crisis during season 5 of Ninjago

Got ab 12 likes on the announcement post so here we are: This is an essay-sorta-thing about something I thought and wrote some six years ago. It’s been so long since I wrote this I feel cringy reading it, but it’s tenable in Pokéninjago lore. It’s kind of a mix between my headcanon for the show, and canon of my AU, which is why there is mentions of “evolving” and Pokémon types.

Things to take into account:

Idk if there should be content warnings, but depression mention at least. Otherwise, this is pretty much as intense as season 5 went, just a little more angsty I suppose.

I must say that my version of Lloyd and his identity crisis were inspired by a certain artist’s version of him and by a comic they made about the Child’s Play episode’s aftermath. I don’t dare name the artist, since they don’t wish to be linked with the Ninjago fandom anymore, but some of you might know who I’m referring to. 

I do not know how psychology stuff actually works, all of this was made on grounds of a couple of high school psychology courses and a lot of imagination `:D

I wrote this originally in Finnish and let Word translate it, so this might be v clumsy at points.

Most of the text is under the cut!

                                                  ~***~

When Lloyd was just a small cub, closer to three years, his mother had left him in his father's care. Misako knew the boy would become the Green Ninja and Garmadon would become the Dark Lord. That is why she went looking for any ancient knowledge to avoid the final confrontation. Although her heart was torn since she had to leave her loved ones, she knew that she couldn’t just sit on her hands, and that perhaps she was the only one that could prevent the decisive battle between good and evil. It was also her wish that the father and the son could spend as much time together as possible. Thus, Lloyd's earliest childhood memories are about his father, and his recollections of his mother are blurry, obscure, and fading away as he grows up, or mixing with other memories.

            Dad meant everything to little Lloyd. Although they lived in the same monastery with Lloyd’s uncle as well, whom he also liked, his own father was still the greatest. Garmadon also loved his child deeply and wanted him to have a happy life. Although the poison in his veins was starting to get a hold of him and he was increasingly drawn to the Golden Weapons, his love for Lloyd and the desire to be with him in anticipation of Misako's return kept him away from them for much longer than if the boy had never existed.

                    When Lloyd "evolved," he lost some important years of his life, during which a youngster usually developes a picture of himself and his changing body. Lloyd's body changed in a single moment and even though his mind also changed to some degree, it was still mostly on the same level as before, since artificial aging did not bring him the years of experience that growing up normally would. From that moment on, he had to form himself a new image of himself. Frankly, he was facing a fierce identity crisis.

                     After the episode Child's Play, Lloyd adopted an identity whose foundation was flimsy and unstable. It consisted of a few simple pillars that supported his image of himself. Some emotions, thoughts, and memories that he could not, wasn’t able to or didn’t dare to deal with, secretly and slowly gnawed at those pillars like erosion. They grew into doubt that settled into the cracks like rockfoil.

                     That flimsy foundation for his self-image, consisted of these elements: I am the Green Ninja. I'm the strongest ninja of all. I’m the son of  sensei Garmadon. I’m the grandson of The First Spinjitzu Master. I'm one of the Elemental Masters. I'm a student of Sensei Wu. I'm one of the five elemental ninjas. It's my destiny to protect the world from evil.

                     This made it easy for Morro to destabilize and crush Lloyd’s self-esteem. Morro proved himself to be stronger and more independent than Lloyd, and that he could win him over and over again, no matter how hard Lloyd tried to fight back. Lloyd felt weak and desperate. Two pillars of his self-image collapsed to the ground and the masked emotions and doubts that chipped away at the other columns began to grow and intensify: He was not the strongest ninja and was therefore unable to protect the world from this evil.

                     This also affected his view of him as the Green Ninja. Although logically he still was just that – the Golden Weapons and his powers had proven it – he could not help but think that maybe Morro really was supposed to be the Chosen One. His identity was cracking, which ate away at his strength and self-esteem. Being a Psychic Type, his greatest strength resided in his psyche, and whenever his mind was in an unstable and vulnerable state, he couldn’t do his best, even if he had used everything he had learned. Losing his father fairly recently had already struck a dangerous notch in his mental stability.

                     Even though Lloyd was still his father's son, it didn't feel the same when he was no longer with him. Finally, he was only driven forward by his relationship with his other loved ones. He had to do everything he could to stop Morro from harming his friends. By protecting them he was also protecting the last intact remnants of his Self.

                     Lloyd did everything he could to resist Morro's possession. From time to time a memory of his friends and the will to keep them safe increased his "self-control," weakening the ghost's hold on him. However, a long, grueling time in constant motion, without water and nourishment, poisoned by a cold, vindictive spirit, steadily filled his mind with anguish and despair. Doubts penetrated deep into the tears of his self-image, breaking everything old until he no longer knew who he was. Only with the last bits of his mental strength could he interfere with Morro's possession so that he failed to clear the other ninjas out of his way.

                     Then, when Morro broke away from Lloyd's body, the Espeon felt like nothing more than an empty, broken shell floating aimlessly in the dark, beachless sea. He was unable to live up to any of the expectations and goals that had been set for him. Now, he was used as a trade-in item in the market of the world’s destiny. He longer had the strength or power to save even his best friends. He was as helpless as a newborn pup and all he could do was to stand by and apologize when he was traded for Realm Crystal.

                      Somewhere from his past, he dug up one last spark of strength. Already as a child, he had been left alone with unfriendly people, who then had ignited that stubborn flame in him: the desire to fight the cruel, unjust and repressive world. His body still had more strength than his mind, and this momentary burst of grit made him kick the Crystal out of Morro's hand. This, however, caused him to end up in the freezing stream, all his energy used up. There was not much left but a primitive desire to survive and a little strength to keep his head afloat before the cold numbed his muscles.

                     Lloyd's mind was in shambles. Images, memories, shattered fragments of his adopted identity… they all churned in his tired, blurred consciousness. Unintentionally, he began to go through the feelings of uncertainty, fear and inadequacy that he had denied from himself for years. The present seemed more surreal than the memories. He relived moments that had had a revolutionary impact on his life: When the golden weapons pointed him out as a Green Ninja; when he grew up under the influence of Tomorrow's Tea; when he met his mother and became to know her; when he unleashed the Golden Dragon in the Temple of Light; how he fought the Overlord who was possessing his father; how he harnessed his True Potential; got his father back; lost Zane; reunited his friends again and felt great togetherness with the other Elemental Masters. When he lost his father again. And when Morro possessed him.

                     Lloyd was lost. If it wasn’t for his friends and their care, he would have sunk deep into depression (and, on the other hand, drowned or, at the very least, died of hypothermia). When Kai carried him out of the FSM’s tomb, it triggered a very clear memory of the day when the Master of Fire had fulfilled his potential and Lloyd had been identified as the Chosen One. That day, Kai had come to save him from an erupting volcano and carried him to safety. Now, Lloyd felt like he was that little scared cub again, who had for a moment thought he was going to burn to the ground in the boiling lava of the volcano. He remembered how Kai's closeness had brought a feeling of immediate security around him. Even though the mountain had raged and wanted to kill them both, Lloyd had known he didn’t have to be afraid. Kai was there. He'd protect Lloyd. There was no reason to fight the fear anymore, he didn't have to pretend like he was tough. He was carried by someone older and stronger, whom to rely on.

                     The feeling was so intense, the memory so vivid that Lloyd was overwhelmed by an inexplicable, immense grief. The sadness of being forced to give up a carefree childhood so early on, to take on an enormous responsibility and assume a role that seemed too demanding for such a small boy to perform. He had had to grow up way too soon. He started shaking from holding back the tears. He didn’t mind since he thought Kai was probably assuming that he was shivering from the cold. But when Kai said quietly and understandingly: "Shh... It's okay... Don't worry about it," the last wall of pride and fear fell, and Lloyd could no longer repress his weeping.

                     At this point, he slowly began to build a new identity on the ruins of the wrecked one. He understood that even though he was the Green Ninja, it didn’t make him greater or more important than the others. He had more magical power than anyone else, but he was still only a person just like them. He could hesitate, too, and fail. There was no way for him to do anything more than what he was capable of, mentally, physically, and skill-wise. That’s all there was to offer, and if it wasn't enough, there were others whom he could rely on. Others, who would catch him when he ran out of strength. He wasn't the last link to hold the whole structure together.

                     These ideas developed slowly in Lloyd's exhausted mind. Slowly, he got stitched back up from the fragments of his previous self-image. This time, however, his new identity was not something that was given to him from the outside, in which he would have had to fit himself, but it was a solid, authentic self-image created as a result of self-reflection. It was still obscure, uncertain and seeking its form, and its growth was overshadowed by fear. But the conversation with his father drove away that last fear. The fear that Morro was supposed to be the Green Ninja instead of Lloyd. His father assured that Lloyd’s qi had no influence on how he should live and act. He should live the way his heart told him to.

                     In the end, although Morro managed to beat Lloyd one last time, this time he did not break down. He was more intact now, he had more inner strength, and he knew for sure he wouldn't be abandoned. That the fate of the world wasn't really up to him. He may have been part of the story, but after all, he wasn't the protagonist, at least not the only one of them.

#pokemon ninjago #pokeninjago #ninjago au #crossover #ninjago #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #lloyd montgomery garmadon #espeon!Lloyd #eevee!Lloyd #sylveon!Morro #ninjago morro #ninjago garmadon #sensei garmadon #ninjago wu #ninjago misako #ninjago kai #did i mention others..? #umbreon!Garmadon #espeon!Wu #eevee!Misako #flareon!Kai #writing #info #pokeninjago lore #also idk if anyone else feels like the way i write character interactions is sappy af #but i'd like to make it clear that i do not in fact ship kai and lloyd #they're bros 💪

[magichats-fr]

Like, aside from the subtle changes of the Tidelord's avatar image, a thought struck me that maybe we have to piece together some clue from what the other deities have said (since they do seem at least aware of what's going on in flights that aren't their own) and have made a point of making an allusion to what's happened in their corner of Sornieth in the Voices thread.

Looking at the thread titles of what each deity has had to say prior to the Voices thread that seem lore relevant we get

... rocks shift

... this inferno

... the winds

... a maelstrom

... shadows

... the cold

THE VOLTAGE!

... this light

... this accelerated

... the infection

... what curious

which nearly seems like a coherent thought.

Now, we also know that these aren't the entire things said by each deity, but rather a part of a whole thought that's shared within each flight’s flight-specific forum. The full message seems to be in each deity’s account / lair broadcast message although there’s a neat gif in each thread.

taking that into account we get

...rocks shift...ground quakes...

...this inferno consumes...

...the winds are changing...

...a maelstrom churns...

...shadows converge...

...the cold reclaims.

The voltage! It surges!

...this light...it's blinding.

...this lush, accelerated growth...

...the infection evolves.

...what curious cosmic energy...

Which independent of each other, makes for interesting statements of what's going on in each flight. Together, it strings some interesting sentences (of which i'm not sure the relevance of). If you just slap it all together you get

Rocks shift... ground quakes.... this inferno consumes.... the winds are changing.... a maelstrom churns.... shadows converge.... the cold reclaims. The voltage! It surges! This light... it's blinding... this lush, accelerated growth... the infection evolves. what curious cosmic energy.

Which is a little nonsensical, like there’s enough for there to be real sentences but the fragments are out of order (with our only clues in terms of order is when there’s a full stop from an exclamation point or a period and not a set of ellipses). I suspected that perhaps the order of the Bounty of the Elements stories might give us the correct order to put the sentence fragments in to get a clean clue. But therein lies the first problem.

We don't really know the chronology / timeline of the lore entries aside from a couple of things. Firstly, Kindred Crossing is followed by Raising a family, as characters introduced in Kindred crossing appear again in Raising a family.

Secondly, it’s generally assumed that Ancient breed entries (what i'm counting the Cracks In The Ice, Born In Fire And Flame, and Unveiled entries as) are set after their element of origin’s story entry in Bounty of the Elements (like Cracks In The Ice being set after Jailbreak), and also as a group they’re likely set after the original Bounty of the Elements entries in general.

Lastly, that Aftershocks is the decidedly last entry in the original run, and Mixed Elements being set either sometime after solely Hear today, Gone Tomorrow, or after both that entry and Aftershocks. We’re not given much indicator for whether or not it’s after both entries or just Water’s, but we definitely know that time had indeed passed since the events of Hear today, Gone Tomorrow.

this makes for an interesting conundrum since Ten Eyes and Workplace Hazards are related due to the Stormcatch Sanctum (and the going-ons both within lightningflight and as observed via the Oculus), but we don't know if Ten eyes is chronologically first in the timeline of if Workplace Hazards comes before that (Ten eyes had been released prior but there's nothing textually indicating that it's set prior to Workplace hazards or vice versa, while both involve the Stormcatch Sanctum).

I don’t know which order Is widely accepted but I think most default to either the ordered by chronological release date

Jailbreak - A rescue mission turns deadly.

Ten Eyes - Magisters, mountains, and magical readings.

Temper, Temper - Elemental fire fans the flames of rebellion.

A New Direction - A courier learns an important lesson.

Kindred Crossing - When you can't find your own path, borrow one.

Ancient Fascinations - The Preservation Guild finds its greatest discovery yet.

Workplace Hazards - A switch in power.

The Seed And The Sickness - It begins.

Hear Today, Gone Tomorrow - Storms, seers, and secrets.

Raising A Family - Siblings play on a beautiful day.

Aftershocks - A sight to behold

Mixed Elements - See what lies before you

Cracks In The Ice - Change is inevitable.

Born In Fire And Flame - Banescale now rise!

Unveiled - Watchers in the Woods...

Or a somewhat modified version leaning after how they’re organized in the encyclopedia, setting mixed elements as the last and pushing the ancient entries forwards in chronology to being after aftershocks but before mixed elements.

Jailbreak - A rescue mission turns deadly.

Ten Eyes - Magisters, mountains, and magical readings.

Temper, Temper - Elemental fire fans the flames of rebellion.

A New Direction - A courier learns an important lesson.

Kindred Crossing - When you can't find your own path, borrow one.

Ancient Fascinations - The Preservation Guild finds its greatest discovery yet.

Workplace Hazards - A switch in power.

The Seed And The Sickness - It begins.

Hear Today, Gone Tomorrow - Storms, seers, and secrets.

Raising A Family - Siblings play on a beautiful day.

Aftershocks - A sight to behold

Cracks In The Ice - Change is inevitable.

Born In Fire And Flame - Banescale now rise!

Unveiled - Watchers in the Woods...

Mixed Elements - See what lies before you

That being said, something that’s occurred to me as far as what could be interpreted as a timeline for the entries is the order in which the deities post in The Voices thread, for the most part.

Gladekeeper - My druid is sickened. What was done to her?

Plaguebringer - Scars are earned by those who survive, and the scar upon our land will be remembered.

Shadowbinder - My my, you seem to have a little problem within your realm…

Flamecaller - My children threaten to tear themselves apart even as I struggle to keep the heart of Sornieth from overflowing.

Icewarden - If you could only see the horrors I’ve held locked away…

Lightweaver - I see the truth. Though it wounds my heart, the Imperials were a mistake that must be rectified.

Windsinger - East to west or west to east, there's an exciting journey to be had!

Stormcatcher - We will claim this untapped energy and grow in power.

Arcanist - I do not understand what is happening but I must. My scholars must pursue the magic.

Earthshaker- As I listen in the dark, something stirs in the stone. I am no longer alone.

That can be used to create more of a hybrid timeline, if there is significance to the order in which they speak up in the thread. This is with the assumption that the Water entry would be last if the last poster on the thread really is the Tidelord (even though no message from him can be found on said thread).

If I take that into consideration their Account broadcast messages and the stories timelines get more interesting. When you apply that order to the Account broadcast messages of each of the deities, it yields the following

...this lush, accelerated growth...

...the infection evolves.

...shadows converge...

...this inferno consumes...

...the cold reclaims.

...this light...it's blinding.

...the winds are changing...

The voltage! It surges!

...what curious cosmic energy...

...rocks shift...ground quakes...

...a maelstrom churns...

This is, again, assuming that the Tidelord's message is the last and set his account broadcast message to being last. It also doesn’t give much context in this order compared to the order if you were to sort each of them by the order of dragon ID’s associated with the deities themselves (earthshaker being #1 and the arcanist at #11, and shown in that order earlier).

The message becomes a bit clearer, if only slightly.

...this lush, accelerated growth... the infection evolves. Shadows converge... this inferno consumes... the cold reclaims. ...this light...it's blinding. ...the winds are changing... The voltage! It surges! ...what curious cosmic energy... rocks shift...ground quakes ... a maelstrom churns...

Which is still weird and does not solve the original posed problem of what order those are supposed to be in, but perhaps what’s more useful and eye-opening is if you use the order of which the deities spoke in the voices thread to order the Original Bounty of the Elements stories. It comes out to being

The Seed And The Sickness - It begins. (Gladekeeper and Plaguebringer joint entry, with Gladekeeper starting the Voices thread and the Plaguebringer being the first to respond)

Kindred Crossing - When you can't find your own path, borrow one. (Shadowbinder)

Temper, Temper - Elemental fire fans the flames of rebellion. (Flamecaller)

Jailbreak - A rescue mission turns deadly. (Icewarden)

Raising A Family - Siblings play on a beautiful day. (Lightweaver)

A New Direction - A courier learns an important lesson. (Windsinger)

Workplace Hazards - A switch in power. (Stormcatcher)

Ten Eyes - Magisters, mountains, and magical readings. (Arcanist)

Ancient Fascinations - The Preservation Guild finds its greatest discovery yet. (Earthshaker)

Hear Today, Gone Tomorrow - Storms, seers, and secrets. (Tidelord)

Aftershocks - A sight to behold.

This is tentative in the sense that Aftershocks could be leaned to both Arcane and to being neutral in that it effects all dragons. It does solve some hypothetical issues with the timeline of when the stories occur in order though. It conveniently enough puts Kindred Crossing before Raising a Family (which we know to be correct in that order given the two are directly linked with Raising a family set after Kindred Crossing). It would also explain the chronology of Workplace Hazards in conjunction with Ten Eyes.

While one could definitely argue the surge observed in ten eyes was relayed to the Stormcatcher and that’s what pushed him to making the Reactor on the Stormcatch Sanctum, it makes much more sense if they found a way to efficiently bolster magic through a reactor and then this gets observed quite catastrophically by the Oculus of the Eleven after it turns on.

Alternatively, if it’s assumed that this is also the order of which Elemental Magic is surging for each element in their respective lands, perhaps the Lightningflight noticed the pattern of elemental surges early enough to get the Reactor project well off the ground such that the output of magic using the surge is enough to break observational equipment at the Oculus (which is clear over in Arcane territory). It's at least plausible that dragons have other means besides the oculus to track powerful surges in the leylines / elemental magic since in temper temper, it's noted that the surge in valuable fire elemental magic is found out prior to it creating a volcano.

It also helps bolster the theory that either the Stormcatcher or enterprising lightning dragons are doing dodgy business w/o letting the magisters know since at the end of Workplace hazards the apprentice magister Gertrude gets shuffled out of the Sanctum entirely, against her will (with her commenting a lot throughout that it seems the sanctum has been neglected by either the Oculus, the flight, or perhaps both), while in Ten eyes they talk about the current magister being the newest of the Magisters (only becoming the magister within the year the story occurs). It wouldn’t be that far fetched if they waited until the changing of the magisters to push this along without anyone noticing till after it got off the proverbial ground. An experienced Magister might catch wind of this early and try to stop it, while an inexperienced one may be more malleable / easier to trick / etc.

It also would explain tensions already seemingly running high with the fact that the armistice was broken first in this hypothetical timeline. It’d explain why Caryan (the plague magister) is so eager to grill Beatrix if there was already an ongoing political issue with Plague flight. If they already have reasons to suspect that Nature would seek to undermine them, they’d be reasonably jumpy enough to quickly also accuse Lightning of trying to trap them.

Speaking of that, the fact that the subtitle for the Seed and the Sickness being “It begins”, and the chronology proposed by looking at the order of which the deities spoke up puts at the start would make for a really odd coincidence if it’s not intentional (and to be frank, this could all very well be me speculating on nothing and I could be completely wrong).

The only thing sabotaging this is the fallout of Raising a Family and what happens within.You would think that word would spread fast about the appearance of an Emperor (the first in a very long time no less). Since it happens in the middle of the chronology, unless all of these entries are for the most part happening near-simultaneously (which it very well could be), it would be weird that it wouldn’t be remarked upon in any of the stories set after that one in the timeline.

My assumption is that there's several points of timing convergence within each story such that at least for the entries with significant amounts of time passing within them, the climax of each story is happening near-simultaneously going down the list (such that even if they all start at different points in time, they all end right about the same date and in theory could have happened over the course of a day / several days).

That way it's at least plausible that word of the Twisting Crescendo's reversal or an emperor rising up from the Lightflight Lands wouldn't have significantly spread (if it spread at all) until after Aftershocks.

Circling back to the thread titles of each deity’s lore thread (that’s also partially what’s in the deities’ account broadcast messages) the proposed correct order gives us

... this accelerated

... the infection

... shadows

... this inferno

... the cold

... this light

... the winds

THE VOLTAGE!

... what curious

... rocks shift

... a maelstrom

Which is interesting, but again, perhaps not as interesting as the whole broadcast messages or what exactly the deities say / story titles and the proposed timeline order of occurrence.

This doesn’t really help track down the Tidelord at all, but if we take it as the order of which magic was surging, and assume aftershocks being the logical effect that such powerful magical surges is having on dragon populations (i'd imagine there was always magic surrounding the nests but since it wasn't so souped up on magical energy prior to the Bounty starting, it's now much more noticeable and much more likely to have an effect on unhatched dragon eggs).

If you assume that it is magical surges and the elemental magic getting stronger and each thing being a direct result of the magic suddenly exponentially increasing, it paints an interesting picture that might explain why the Tidelord left, since it doesn’t do much to glean where he went.

We’re pretty explicitly told in the Epilogue: Flight Rising entry in the encyclopedia that magic is growing stronger the further down the line we are from the start, and that in the bounty of elements it’s really getting much stronger now than it had ever been.

If we do assume that it is Magical surges (and nothing else) in elemental magic that's causing the bounty, than it can be assumed that each entry is a direct result of the magic surging further in power and the ripple effect that it's having on the world and on dragons.

If we assume all of that, and assume that each surge after the first one is more powerful than the last and look at the order of entries, it paints an interesting picture. It paints an especially interesting picture if you use the order i've come up with rather than by chronological release date. It all comes down to a rather simple conclusion.

The surge in water element’s power was enough to directly affect the Tidelord himself. Whether it’s in a positive way that wraps around to being negative (ex becoming so powerful he has to sequester himself away from his flight for their own safety) or worse (we know dragons can’t have too much elemental magic in them or else they explode and release the magic that way; while deities probably can’t be killed who’s to say that the Tidelord didn’t just lose his corporeal body and is just sort of out there as a bunch of water-element magic).

This is of course assuming that the order from the voices thread is the correct order of the surges and the stories.

We know that the deities came from the elements themselves, and are likely just as influenced by the elements themselves as they influence the elements they command. Who’s to say that the deities aren’t experiencing the surging magic of the Bounty of the Elements as well and we haven’t seen the consequences it's specifically had on the deities because the surges have had other, more direct consequences on dragonkind (like the light surge being enough to wake an emperor that was partially from a light imperial among other elements) to deal with. Perhaps the Tidelord knew this was coming and also knew that if there was any a time to conveniently disappear, for his sake or for others, it would be in the big shake up.

Side tangent

This gets slightly into headcanon territory here but I think that there probably isn’t a way to for sure kill a deity. You can kill the mortal / physical body, but that does not in fact destroy the element and that the deity will either eventually come back and respawn, or that a new deity of the same element would rise in it’s place (like a phoenix but weirder and perhaps not associated with only fire). Mixed elements all but confirms that to truly kill the Tidelord you'd have to destroy the water element entirely (and as a result perhaps kill or at least weaken all Water-element dragons on top of that). Deductive logic from within that entry also hands us that since dragons are still wielding Water Element Magic with no problems, the Tidelord is still around but just not where he used to be. Perhaps the surging of elements has had a visible effect on him and that he’s left so that he doesn’t harm the waterflight with how his power has surged, alongside looking distinctly different enough that he’s no longer immediately recognizable as the Tidelord.

This is all to say that if staff really wanted an excuse to overhaul the Tidelord’s appearance it would make for a great excuse (I like the deities the way they are in terms of appearance but they have been redoing a lot on the website, including various pieces of older art. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s going to be updated deity art at some point, with perhaps deity art updates / whole new redesigns being on the table).

#Tidelord Hunting

[scapegrace74-blog]

Saorsa, Chapter 19

A/N  Here is the next installment of Saorsa.  In which Jamie is introduced to the auto.mo.bile.   This might be one of my favourite scenes in the entire first arc.

Rather than link to all previously posted chapters, I’ll just direct those of you wanting to catch up on your Saorsa-reading to my AO3 page, where the fic is posted in its entirety.

Thank you to each of you liking and reblogging!  It does my little fanfic writer’s heart good.

Released from the prison of his secret, Jamie flourished over the weeks leading up to the festive season.  With the wounds on his back and shoulder finally healed, he helped Murtagh in the stables and about the estate each day, slowly regaining his strength.  In the evenings, he sat with Claire in the great room, helping with the ledgers, conversing quietly, or listening to the frequent BBC Radio updates from the front.

Now that she understood the source of Jamie’s strange ambivalence regarding the war, she tried to provide him with as much context as possible.  It helped that he was a worldly, educated man for his time, but the advances in technology were such that he spent many nights in quiet, stunned silence as she described aerial bombing raids, the convoluted alliances between countries that spread the globe and chemical warfare.

“But why, Sassenach?  What cause unites Germany, the Turks and Japan, and pits them against Britain, France and Russia?  Millions have died, ye say, but for what end?”

She knew what her answer was supposed to be: the fight against global hegemony, restoring the balance of power, ensuring that democracy prevailed over tyranny.  But she couldn’t say those things to Jamie, because she knew he would see them for what they were: academic constructs that meant nothing to the common man whose blood was being shed.  

Instead, she distracted him with stories about her own travels, following her Uncle Lambert around the globe from one archaeological dig to the next.  An orphan and obligatory nomad himself, he listened to her story of rootlessness with sympathy but no pity.  She found herself sharing memories she’d thought were boxed away for good, little glimpses of a life she’d been forced to leave behind upon her uncle’s death.  They hurt as they rose to the surface, like debriding a wound, but if her eyes watered in the firelit room, Jamie did not comment.  Perhaps he attributed it to the peat smoke.

“And when yer uncle passed, ye marrit Frank?” he asked one such night, after they’d each drunk a few glasses of sherry.

He seldom mentioned Frank, and usually only obliquely.

“No.  I settled in London, shared a flat with some other single girls, and enrolled in nurse’s college.  Uncle Lamb left me enough money to pay my board, tuition and such.  And when the war broke out, the army were very eager to recruit nurses for their field hospitals.  I met Frank at a mixer; a social event organized for British soldiers.   He was still in officer’s training.  I was scheduled to deploy to the continent once my schooling was finished.  Before I knew it, we were married.”

“Ye did no’ go tae war, then?”  She wondered what Jamie made of all of this.  She was no historian, but she imagined the idea of paying a woman to serve on the battlefront, even if she was not actually fighting, must be foreign to his eighteenth-century view of the world.   Come to think of it, Frank hadn’t been very fond of the idea either.

“No.  Once we were married, Frank arranged for me to come to Lallybroch, to mind the estate.  One of the perks of being an enlisted officer, I imagine.”

Some of her disenchantment must have crept into her voice, because Jamie’s next words were, “Many’s the way a lady can serve her country, Claire.  My da would say…” he trailed off, looking bashful.

“Say what?” she prodded.

“That a strong woman was worth three men, fer she could tend a hearth, grow a new life, and defend her kin more fiercely than any hired soldier.  He’d say it of ye, Sassenach.”

She blushed at the unexpected praise, lowering her eyes to the empty sherry glass twisting between her fingers.

“Sometimes I wonder…” she began, but then stopped herself, not wishing to slander the dead.  She could feel Jamie’s articulate eyes watching her.  “Well, never mind.  Would you care for more sherry?”

What she couldn’t say was that she wondered whether her late husband had ever truly known her at all.

**

Yuletide was a somber affair.   News of Frank’s death had by now reached the tenants, adding a pall to what was already a holiday of austerity.   Claire worked many late nights with Mrs. Fitz and Cook by her side.  On the day before Christmas she delivered two wooden crates to Murtagh.

“There’s a pair of woolen socks and a clementine for each child on the estate and in the village.  Can you please see that they are given out today?”, she requested.  “And once that’s done, please tell the labourers that they are free to go home.  I don’t want to see them back before Hogmanay.   Jamie and I can tend the livestock for a few days.”

Murtagh opened his mouth, but Claire raised her hand, forestalling any complaint.

“I don’t want to hear it, Mr. Fitzgibbons.  And make certain each man takes a cloutie dumpling home with him.  They’re underneath the clementines.”

**

“I’ll jus’ ride tae the village on Donas, and meet ye there,” Jamie evaded, looking unusually nervous but dapper in navy trousers, a clean shirt and borrowed tweed jerkin.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jamie.  It’s freezing out tonight, and you’ll be late for midnight mass besides.”

Her Scot made an indeterminate noise in his throat, neither acquiescing nor contesting her point.

“It’s just a short drive.   That old Vauxhall Cadet can barely break twenty miles an hour, and I’m a very good driver.”  She neglected to mention the slight handicap of not being able to use the vehicle’s headlights, on account of the blackout.   Fortunately, she had the route to the village memorized by now and the moon was waxing full.

“I dinna doubt it, Sassenach.  I just… twenty miles an ‘our?  Did ye say yer automobile can travel o’er twenty miles an ‘our?”

He pronounced it as three separate words, each carrying the possibility of detonating in his mouth: auto, mo, bile.

Claire grabbed her warmest coat and scarf, then pulled Jamie, still balking, towards the courtyard where the car sat idling.  Five minutes later, navigating the moonlit road into the village, he could be heard muttering in Gaelic from the passenger’s seat, getting a headstart on his Yuletide prayers.

**

The tiny stone church was lit only by tapers, so it wasn’t until she filed back to the Lallybroch pew after receiving communion that she noticed Murtagh sitting alone in a dim corner near the door.  She had to dodge a few well-wishers at the end of mass in order to accost him before he could sneak away.

“Murtagh, what are you doing here?  I told you and the other men to go home to your families over the holidays.”

Jamie joined her, nerves considerably calmed by the familiar church rituals.  Murtagh gave him a beseeching look.

“What?” she asked, looking between their faces and annoyed at their apparent complicity.

“Sassenach, Murtagh comes from the Isle of Lewis.  Even if he’d hied away t’day, he canna make it there an’ back in no’ but a week.”

Claire bit her lip, chagrinned that it never occurred to her to wonder if her labourers could take advantage a holiday, or if she’d merely complicated their lives with what she believed was benevolence.  It was one of those moments when she was certain she would never adequately fill the role of Lady of Lallybroch.

“It’s nae yer fault, Claire,” Jamie assured her quietly, obviously reading her dismay on her face.  “I ken the other lads were fit tae burst when they heard the news an’ saw their cloutie dumpling.”

She squared her shoulders and raised her chin, wrestling her confidence back into place.

“Well, there’s nothing for it, then.  Murtagh, I insist you join Jamie and I in the main house for Christmas dinner tomorrow.  And when the holidays are over, and the time is convenient for you, you shall take two weeks to visit your family.  It must be an age since you last saw them.”

“Mistress, I canna…” Murtagh began, but his mistress was already on the move.

“I don’t want to hear of it.  Now please join us in the auto.mo.bile.  I may need you to administer smelling salts to our fearless Highland warrior on the road home.”

#my writing #outlander

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Baltimore Bridge collapse

* * * *

At about 1:30 this morning, local time, the Dali, a 985-foot (300 m) container ship operating under a Singapore flag, struck the steel Francis Scott Key Bridge in Baltimore, Maryland, that spans the lower Patapsco River and outer Baltimore Harbor. The bridge immediately collapsed. 

Eight maintenance workers were on the bridge repairing potholes when the ship hit. Two were rescued from the water, but the other six remain missing. Search and rescue operations were complicated by twisted metal and debris from the collapsed bridge. This evening, the Coast Guard called off its search. Tomorrow morning, divers will begin recovery efforts.

It is possible there were motorists on the bridge, too, but fewer than there might otherwise have been. Crew members issued a “Mayday” call—an internationally recognized word meaning distress—that Maryland police heard. At 1:27, police radio recorded an officer saying a ship had lost control of its steering as it approached the bridge, and to stop traffic and evacuate the area. There were cars submerged in the water, but they may have belonged to the construction workers.

The loss of the bridge will tangle traffic and disrupt supply chains. Named for the Maryland lawyer who in 1814 wrote the poem that became the national anthem, the Francis Scott Key bridge carries I-695, the Baltimore Beltway, and is used by about 30,000 people a day. 

The Port of Baltimore is one of the nation’s largest shipping hubs, especially for both imports and exports of cars and light trucks. About 850,000 vehicles go through that port every year. So does more than 20% of the nation’s coal exports. In 2023 the port moved a record-breaking $80 billion worth of foreign cargo. Now the shipping lane is closed and must be cleared of debris. 

“There is no question this will be a major and protracted impact on supply chains,” Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg said from Baltimore today.

Perhaps learning from the 2023 East Palestine, Ohio, train derailment, when the government response was fast but quiet and thus opened a window for right-wing complaints they weren’t doing enough, the administration was out front today. Buttigieg rushed to the scene from a trip out West, and Maryland governor Wes Moore told reporters Buttigieg had called him at 3:30 am, just two hours after the crash.  

By around 6:00 am, the National Transportation Safety Board already had a team of 24 people on the scene to launch an investigation into the cause of the collision. 

Speaking today, President Joe Biden said: “I’ve directed my team to move heaven and earth to reopen the port and rebuild the bridge as soon as…humanly possible. And we’re going to work hand in hand…to support Maryland, whatever they ask for. And we’re going to work with our partners in Congress to make sure the state gets the support it needs. It’s my intention that federal government will pay for the entire cost of reconstructing that bridge, and I expect…the Congress to support my effort.”

Former member of President Obama’s 2012 campaign Jason Karsh noted Biden���s speech and said on social media: “[B]ecause Biden got infrastructure spending done for the first time in over a generation, and because [Pennsylvania] was able to rebuild that bridge that collapsed in record time, Dem[ocrat]s have the credibility to say things like this. Competence in government matters.”

It remains far too soon for any solid understanding of what caused the deadly crash.

Despite the impossibility of solid information in the hours immediately after the collision—or perhaps because of it—verified accounts on X (formerly Twitter) began spreading conspiracy theories. They posted that the accident was linked to terrorism, Jewish people, or diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) programs. “Did anti-white business practices cause this disaster?” one posted. Conspiracy theorist Alex Jones wrote that the collision was “deliberate” and that “WW3 has already started.” 

Technology reporter Taylor Lorenz, who studies social media patterns, explained in the Washington Post that many of these accounts are “engagement farming.” This is the practice of posting extremist comments to generate attention, which can then be monetized by, for example, getting a cut of advertising that appears near those comments. Comments with heavy engagement can receive thousands of dollars. 

For a long time now, America’s political right has riled people up with wild political rhetoric to get them to buy stuff. Just today, Trump began to hawk Bibles for $59.99, plus shipping and handling, with a video message saying “Religion and Christianity are the biggest things missing from this country, and I truly believe we need to bring them back…. That’s why our country’s going haywire—we’ve lost religion in our country.” 

That system appeared to be in play as Trump supporters apparently flocked to today’s public offering of the Trump Media & Technology Group, the company behind the Truth Social app, sending the stock upward 16%. That surge would value the company at more than $7 billion, although in the first nine months of last year it had only about $3 million in sales and lost nearly $50 million. Julian Klymochko, founder and CEO of Accelerate Financial Technologies, told NPR’s Rafael Nam that the $7 billion valuation “is completely detached from any sort of fundamentals.” 

Buying stock in the company is “more of a political movement or just a speculative meme stock [a stock driven by social media] that’s completely detached or unrelated to the underlying business fundamentals of Truth Social,” Klymochko said.

[LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN: Heather Cox Richardson]

#Bridge collapse #Heather Cox Richardson #letters From an American #Engagement farming #grifting

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: The Rebellion of Adrien Agreste, ch. 10

Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Luka Couffaine, Lila Rossi/karma, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/aneurism, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Kagami Tsurugi, Plagg & Tikki

Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Lila Rossi, Jagged Stone, Plagg, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine, Penny Rolling, Anarka Couffaine, Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine, Kagami Tsurugi, Alya Césaire, Chloé Bourgeois, Wayhem, Nadja Chamack, Nathalie Sancoeur, Sabine Cheng, Tom Dupain, Tikki, Fang, Principal Damocles, Caline Bustier, Ms. Mendeleiev, original minor character, Alec Cataldi, Lila Rossi’s Mother, Sabrina Raincomprix, Roger Raincomprix, Mylène Haprèle, Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste’s Bodyguard, Nino Lahiffe, Nooroo

Tags: Lila Rossi salt, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Teenage Rebellion, Swearing, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Crack Treated Seriously, Lila Rossi’s Lies Are Exposed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Luka Couffaine Needs a Hug, Paparazzi, Parentification, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Gabriel Agreste Needs an Aneurism, Uncle Jagged Stone, we’re all queer here, the spirit of punk is sometimes just being allowed to be yourself, Kagami Finds Her Groove, punk rock fashion, Savage Kagami, Marinette protection squad, Good Parent Sabine Cheng, Good Parent Tom Dupain, Protective Kagami Tsurugi, Protective Luka Couffaine, Bisexual Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Pansexual Luka Couffaine, Sharing a Bed, Pet Names, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Instagram, Bullying, Social Media, Anxiety, Makeover, Hugs, will cure your acne, Face Punching, Bad Ass Juleka Couffaine, Rumors, Protective Juleka Couffaine, Protective Adrien Agreste, Lawyers, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Holding Hands, accountability, mental health, Jagged Stone’s well-paid pet shark, How to Make the Evening News, Sexy eyeliner for days, one fish two fish Lila is a screwed fish, How to have fun and piss Gabriel off, Fuckery, sweet litigious karma, Alya sugar, lawyer shark doo doo doo doo doo doo, Schadenfreude, Bad Ass Alya Césaire, Gaslighting, abuse denormalization, Jagged likes his lawyers like he likes his pets: toothy af, Blood in the Water, Everything you didn’t know you wanted and some things you did, Gabriel Agreste is shark bait, Denial, Consequences, Principal Damocles salt, caline bustier salt, the impotence of Gabriel Agreste, snarky Nooroo, lies and the lying liars who tell them, Lila’s brain is a narcissistic hellscape, Lila’s mind is built like an Escher piece, Alec Cataldi salt, Adrien Sugar, wholesome salt, Fu Salt, Kwami Shenanigans, Nooroo is a little shit

Summary: How to Piss Off Gabriel Agreste

AO3 link

Chapters 1-2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

-----------

Gabriel Agreste was displeased.

Honestly, that was an understatement.

Gabriel Agreste was infuriated.

He had allowed Adrien his little temper tantrum, the slamming of the door and stomping to his bedroom, expecting to let the boy stew for a bit until he had calmed enough to be reasonable. In the meantime, he had assured Mlle. Rossi things would progress as planned.

That had been a miscalculation. Adrien’s behavior had only escalated, as he somehow managed to escape the mansion—something Gabriel had only discovered later, when Nathalie had brought the tablet to him, with that picture on the Instagram social media account that was meant largely for Adrien to promote the brand. He had been permitted to use it for additional reasons, but clearly that had been a mistake.

Gabriel had been struck by the smile on Adrien’s face, though, carefree and happy… and alongside that of a boy he’d never seen as they cuddled in an intimate way that was wholly inappropriate for the brand. He never would have allowed such a picture with Mlle. Rossi.

But his hands were also tied by Adrien’s move—if he were seen to disapprove, many of his employees would be livid, not to mention critics. The LGBTQ+ community was well represented in the fashion industry. At this point, Gabriel would be seen as homophobic.

Furthermore, a third party had taken those pictures, meaning Adrien had found allies.

Nathalie had attempted to regain control of the account, to no avail. Hopefully the furor would die down quickly; Gabriel had the Gorilla out searching for his wayward son so they could nip this in the bud. But he’d come up empty thus far.

Mlle. Rossi had called, raging, and had required a lecture about tone and entitlement. She had been seething by the time he hung up on her, but Gabriel didn’t particularly care. She was outliving her use with her childish assumption he’d give in to her demands.

He had used the roiling emotions of a jealous fan to create an Akuma, but it had been defeated far too quickly for his liking,

Nathalie had returned with the tablet shortly thereafter, with a new photo and that hair. His hair had been pristine, never adulterated with anything so aggressive as dye. And now—! He matched his ‘boyfriend’—Gabriel was certain this was a fake relationship, but if he said such a thing publicly it would receive backlash—and they were feeding each other ice cream and laughing. Another picture taken by a third party.

Gabriel hadn’t even noticed the caption, or the following post essentially accusing the company of forcing him to work, until Nathalie pointed them out. Worse, there were comments from fans angry that Adrien was not permitted to play with that ridiculous band.

theofficialchloebourgeois: I didn’t know it was that bad, Adrikins. I’ll talk to Daddy.

alya.ladyblogger: @theofficialchloebourgeois Pretty sure this violates child labor laws, too. #LetAdrienGoToSchool

theofficialchloebourgeois: @alya.ladyblogger Will bring that up.

The Instagram tag the Ladyblogger had created had started going viral, even spreading to Twitter.

The TVi news was even using it. Curious, Gabriel clicked on the article they’d linked to.

Model Adrien Agreste Comes Out, Alleges Being Forced to Date New Gabriel Muse, Lila Rossi

Leaked Rossi text messages include threats

When he saw the image of the text messages, he hurled the tablet against the wall.

Nathalie gave him a reproachful look and he glowered at her. “You were due for an upgrade anyway,” he hissed, still trying to contain his rage.

Clearly Mlle. Rossi had become more than an inconvenience.

“Inform Mlle. Rossi that her association with Gabriel has ended, as she has provided an unsavory image for the brand. Announce that on the official social media. Make sure the announcement planned for tomorrow is stopped.”

A stress headache, perhaps even a migraine, was coming on.

--

Marinette returned home with freshly painted pink fingernails, and Jagged loudly praising her nonexistent design ideas.

“Marinette Dupain-Chang, would you care to comment on your relationship with former Gabriel model Lila Rossi?”

Oh, that had been tempting. ‘Former’? They hadn’t seen that bit of information before she’d left—she’d have to text that to Kagami and Luka, who would share it with Adrien. They’d agreed that he’d need to keep his cell phone off to avoid the GPS locater, until they’d gotten enough done.

Jagged posed for the camera, hugging her one-armed. “That horrid girl has been bullying my niece here. Kept her too afraid to say anything. But Uncle Jagged’s here to take care of his Marinette.”

Then he pushed past Nadja Chamack to enter the bakery—let in by her parents despite it being after hours. They presented him with a large box of macrons to thank him, and asked if he would be free to join the family for dinner the next night—specifying that ‘the team’ was welcome, too.

Adrien, Luka, and Kagami had been insistent that she should bring them in on the plan, that they have some adults they could lean on aside from Jagged, whose stay in Paris would only be so long.

Marinette hadn’t been certain about letting them in on the fake relationship details, but they had been appropriately horrified at Adrien’s treatment and had immediately been on board. Everything had fallen into place, and maman had insisted after tomorrow she would take her break from the bakery to coincide with Marinette’s walk to school, so she could escort her for her protection.

They had a plan, a script, for Luka and Adrien’s relationship. She just had to be ready early tomorrow to be escorted to school, and be ready for any media attention.

And they had decided that Luka should be seen with Adrien, saying goodbye before the school day with appropriate closeness. They hadn’t specified what it should be, but that part could be ad-libbed. Regardless, the media would eat it up.

She updated her parents over dessert fruit tarts, then pleaded exhaustion and headed up to her room to get ready for bed. On her way up, she texted Luka and Kagami the news about Lila.

Tikki looked a bit exasperated when she was finally able to leave Marinette’s purse, and for a moment she was worried the kwami disagreed with what they were doing, that she’d be disappointed.

“I didn’t realize Adrien had it so bad,” Tikki said instead. “That poor boy. I’m glad you came to his side; I know it might be hard to watch him in a pretend relationship with Luka.”

Marinette relaxed. Tikki was on her side.

“I knew his father was awful, but I didn’t know it was this bad, either. If we do this right, M. Agreste will be under enough scrutiny to give Adrien some freedom.”

“He deserves better,” the kwami commented, taking the cookie Marinette offered her.

Marinette nodded. “Do you think I’m doing enough?”

“You’re doing everything you can.” Tikki set down the cookie and put one tiny hand on Marinette’s. “And… I think Luka was right. You expect too much of yourself. I know you’re Ladybug, but you’re also Marinette. You don’t need to bottle things up. You don’t need to be perfect.”

Marinette was silent for a bit, thinking about that. She’d always tried to stay strong on her own—even during the worst of Chloé’s bullying, she hadn’t reached out. Part of it was learning that Chloé could get away with a lot because of her status; teachers were rarely willing to punish the daughter of the mayor, so instead Marinette had been told she was being too sensitive, or that she needed to be the bigger person and be an example. All she’d wound up being is an example of a doormat.

In the past year, she’d learned that what her teachers had done was considered gaslighting. She’d managed to let them convince her that her feelings weren’t important. Marinette had been afraid to tell her parents everything, because if they told her the same thing…

Ever since Alya had come, she’d been able to start growing out of that—all it had taken was someone standing up for her.

“Thanks, Tikki.”

The kwami sighed. “Honestly, I should have helped you take care of this Lila situation earlier. It’s gone on too long. I let you flounder, even after you were almost Akumatized. I didn’t even think about how this was effecting you. I’m sorry, Marinette.”

Marinette brought Tikki up to her face and kissed her cheek. “I was doing what Luka said—putting on a front. I need to trust you and my parents and my friends more.”

“We’ll learn together,” Tikki told her with a smile. “I’m so proud of you, Marinette!”

They snuggled cheek to cheek for a moment, and then Marinette went to the bathroom to prepare for bed, leaving Tikki to her cookie.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfiction #my fanfiction #The Rebellion of Adrien Agreste #adrien agreste #tikki #marinette dupain cheng #jagged stone #uncle jagged #nadja chamack #chloe bourgeois #alya cesaire #gabriel agreste #gabriel agreste’s a+ parenting #nathalie sancoeur #luka couffaine #lukadrien #lila rossi #lila salt #lila 'the liar' rossi #kagami tsurugi #ml salt #miraculous salt

[satonthelotuspier]

🐰 Untamed Spring Fest 2020 🐰

Day 13 - Tendril - 1.5k

Post-canon developing SangCheng - follows on from this fic from the winter fest. This story runs parallel to the WWX & JC reconciliation arc, which is still awaiting it’s finale! But you can read part 1 and part 2 of that at the links if the idea interests you.

A Man’s Reputation

Nie Huaisang worked diligently in the small garden outside his house in the Unclean Realm.

He knew his brother, if he had still been alive, would have rolled his eyes and called it more of his nonsense, but it was soothing and restful, and if he tended it well, ensured these new budding tendrils clung to the wooden trellising he had built, he would be blessed with a beautiful, fragrant backdrop of jasmine.

The sweet scent would float in through the windows when he opened them in the mornings, and, with the other plants he’d carefully picked, including the blue and purple azalea, it would create a gorgeous blend of colours which he could translate to his paintings.

He hoped Jiang Cheng appreciated the addition of the purple, something that had been made as a bow to the man he loved. Maybe in future a lotus pond would be something he added, then Jiang Cheng would always have a little something to remind him of Lotus Pier when he visited. Times like now, for example.

The fair-skinned Sandu Shengshou sat out of his way, in the shade. Nie Huaisang knew from that idyllic summer in Cloud Recesses the other was careful of too much sun when he could be. It invariably made his nose burn pink, or brought out his freckles; sometimes both.

Personally Nie Huaisang had thought that freckles on the younger man were ridiculously adorable; but apparently ridiculously adorable was something the Sandu Shengshou was averse to being thought of these days.

Some men were so precious about their reputations, Nie Huaisang thought.

Although, as he had discovered himself, a reputation was a useful thing; something to hide behind, to plot from the safety of. Perhaps, similarly, it was a safety net for Jiang Cheng.

Once upon a time the Jiang Sect leader had cared, Too deeply. And he had paid the highest price. Now he presented a cold, unfeeling and bitter facade to the world that had beaten him down; if he didn’t care for anything anymore then it couldn’t be taken away from him.

Nie Huaisang knew he did still care though, he had eyes, sharper than most, and had seen how Jiang Cheng had reacted to Wei Wuxian each time they had encountered the other.

It had been like an old wound freshly opened again for Jiang Cheng every time they had met, raw and bleeding and so much more painful because it had been assumed the injury had healed over, only to have it torn open again.

Nie Huaisang understood; he thought he had been prepared to face Nie Mingjue again at the Guanyin Temple, but it had been like a fresh stab through his heart; years of practice at killing his reactions had been the only thing that had kept the agonised keen of torment from his lips. So yes, Nie Huaisang understood.

He had tried to offer his well-meant advice many months ago, and suggested, in an indirect way, that Jiang Cheng consider repairing his relationship with his shixiong, in order to let the past go and begin to move on.

Nie Huaisang had thought, hoped, it was time both he and Jiang Cheng stopped living in the past and looked forward to a future.

It might have been selfish of him, but Nie Huaisang wanted that future, wanted to be the future Jiang Cheng, that snarky, grumpy, yet deeply caring boy he had fallen in love with in their teens, wanted.

He had buried those sweeter feelings many years ago, as deeply as Jiang Cheng had buried his own, in order to survive. Impossible to think of love, of passion and tenderness, when you carried a heart full of secrets; a heart full of poison; a heart full of schemes.

But now, all accounts were settled, everything had played out, the world, or at least a select few in it, had seen through his facade to his rotten core, and all revenge was had. It was time for him to return to the precious things he had put aside during his quest for vengeance, and live his life for himself once again.

Jiang Cheng deserved that chance too. If he wanted it to be with Nie Huaisang, then even better.

The Jiang Sect leader had been, and was still being, encouragingly receptive to the tentative overtures he had made.

His gifts hadn’t been rejected, and indeed Jiang Cheng had sent some in return. He actively sought out Nie Huaisang’s company still; they had spent a lot of time together at the Lotus Pier discussion conference earlier that year, where he had offered his unsolicited advice on Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Cheng kept up that part of their relationship. He had even visited Qinghe more than had been strictly necessary, but so had Nie Huaisang visited Yunmeng.

It was promising, if he continued to build up their relationship as carefully as he did the jasmine, urge the tendrils of their mutual respect and regard to cling to the trellis of their continued interactions, perhaps he would eventually have a love bloom as beautifully as the jasmine he planned.

Like that jasmine, nothing would be grown overnight, however, it would require patience and careful tending. Jiang Cheng was a damaged man, indeed they both were, although in different ways. But Jiang Cheng had to be allowed to heal and grow his own feelings for them to have any genuine chance at the future Huaisang wanted.

If time had shown anything, however, it was that Nie Huaisang was willing to be a patient man, and play every move carefully.

He brushed the dirt from his hands, Jiang Cheng had been allowed enough time to brood this morning in the shade of his magnolia tree.

Nie Huaisang moved to the water butt and washed the dirt carefully from his hands. He wore some of his oldest, least beautiful robes for digging about in his new garden, and he longed to be armoured in his finest, and for a fan in his hand to hide behind. Unfortunately he needed a bath, and he wouldn’t sully any of his prized, precious fans or sumptuous robes with dirt from the garden.

And he genuinely needed to stop relying on them, at least in Jiang Cheng’s company. It would help to show his sincerity. And it was too late to hide his regard, he had played that tile already and if the other wasn’t aware then he was as beyond redemption for stupidity as his shixiong.

He walked over to Jiang Cheng, untying his sleeves. The other didn’t notice his arrival, so deep in thought he was.

“Jiang Cheng” he wasn’t sure when in their relationship they had dropped formality in private, but he liked it; he’d always thought of the other by his birth name anyway, probably due to hearing Wei Wuxian use it constantly in the Cloud Recesses.

The other startled a little and looked up, “Huaisang?” he sounded like he’d just woken up, and Nie Huaisang might have thought he’d been napping, except he’d had sight of him all morning and his eyes had always been open, just staring off into nothingness.

“Want to talk about it?” he knew the answer.

“Not really. I just...I did try to talk things over with Wei Wuxian, but I think I said something I shouldn’t have. I think he probably hates me more than ever. I...forget about it, please. Maybe I’ll be able to tell you later, when I’ve had more time to think on it”

Jiang Cheng had actually said more than Nie Huaisang had ever expected him to. Perhaps he too was trying to be a little more open. Nie Huaisang hoped so.

“Alright” he agreed, and reached over to touch Jiang Cheng’s wrist lightly. “You received a letter from A-Ling this morning?” he changed the subject, and Jiang Cheng nodded.

“Yes, some ghost or ghoul someone petitioned the Jin clan to deal with. I’ll have to leave tomorrow morning”

Of course, Jiang Cheng wouldn’t allow Jin Ling to act unchaperoned, even if he only watched from the shadows. Again, Jiang Cheng cared too much, and his nephew was his whole world, even if they bickered and argued and threatened each other constantly.

“Of course. Where will you go, afterwards?”

Jiang Cheng shot him a look, dark eyes half masked, “Likely back to Yunmeng, I’ve been away a while, and there will be things that need my attention”

I’m one of those things, Nie Huaisang thought, although there was no resentment in it. There couldn’t be, they both had myriad responsibilities that weren’t to each other; balancing those, and their courtship, was going to be one of the many difficulties they faced.

But no one had ever claimed life was simple.

“I could likely make time in a few months to join you” he suggested tentatively.

A ghost of a smile touched Jiang Cheng’s normally harsh mouth, “Please do, Huaisang, I’ll be looking forward to it”

#untamed spring fest #sangcheng #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #developing relationship #post-canon #the untamed #the untamed fanfic #mo dao zu shi #mo dao zu shi fanfic #mdzs #mdzs fanfic #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #Shay's stuff

[thirstybtsthoughts]

Sorry if it feels like I’m sending in a lot of asks, but i’ve been meaning to ask this one thing for a while, and it’s not really thirst or anything.

So, i’m an ‘artist’ (i guess), I’ve sold some prints, am selling stickers and I’m also in my first year of art school. I’ve made some BTS fanart here and there, but there’s this one artist i follow on instagram that posted a naked drawing of one of the members. And it was quite explicit.

I guess i just want some other opinions? I know this is a thirst blog, and we’re all fantasising about all kinds of things, including sex with them, or even fantasising about their dicks. But somehow that’s still just fantasising, you know what I mean? We, or at least i feel like all the people active on your blog, are aware we just don’t know these specific physical features of them, and it’s all our imagination.

Sometimes i do feel like there’s an edge to imagining and (almost) invading their personal lives, but that aside, what are your thoughts on actually drawing or portraying their naked bodies and also posting it on the internet? Like, when is it invading their privacy and personal lives and when is it just us fantasising? Somehow, to me, and don’t hate me for this, the artwork felt more personal and invading. I can’t really explain it other than that it’s going further than just thinking and imagining, and yet, it’s just a different expression of your thoughts- on paper in a drawing or in our asks.

I’m really conflicted about this for some reason. I’m sorry if i’m bringing down a mood of anyone. I just don’t have any other place to ask such questions, so i’m asking you to understand- and to help me understand.

PS, i believe they took the post down. I tried to find it so i could give you guys more information about what was said, but sadly i cannot. -🌱

My honest opinion? I’m sorry if this offends...

I enjoy the NSFW/nude art of the boys. I’m sorry 🥺. It’s just my selfish desires I think, I indulge in it rather than overthinking it. Therefore I haven’t given it much thought before. 

In most cases, the people who make and share them have the boys accounts and all BigHit accounts blocked and alot of the time the fans post them on private sites. For example they may share part of a piece on twitter, but then drop a link to the full piece on a more private platform so younger fans and BTS themselves don’t easily come across it. I know not everyone does this though, I think it’s important that they do make an effort to conceal their work from younger eyes. 

As they are in the public eye, there’s bound to be things like that made about them right? Whether it’s right or wrong, I don’t know, I’m impartial to it but they’re not the only famous people to have had such content made of them. 

Also, people write fanfics which describe the boys dick sizes and features, they write the boys personalities and characteristics in, some which are assumed are really like them and some imaginary. It’s the same with the art, it’s just that, imaginary. The art certainly helps with fantasies too. Everyone knows it’s not really what they might look like. 

Now that I’m thinking about it more, if I was famous, I perhaps wouldn’t want naked pictures of me to be drawn, but even then, maybe I’d find it flattering, who knows. Everyone feels differently about it. 

I’m not a massive fan of NSFW art which ships the boys though. I hope the boys don’t come across it. I hated seeing it when I first discovered it but it’s not too bad sometimes because I can imagine myself in one of their places. 

This is actually a coincidence because I’ve found some more nsfw artists recently that I was going to put in a post to share today or tomorrow. 

Again I’m so so sorry if my view on this upsets anyone, it’s just the way I see it 🥺. 

#asks #anon #seedling anon #🌱 anon #bts #Anonymous