#Demonstrating Programming Skills

[iyiadebizz]

Showcase Programming Skills with a Portfolio Site programmer

In today’s competitive job market, a web developer’s ability to showcase their skills is crucial. A well-designed online portfolio serves as a living resume, demonstrating technical abilities and problem-solving skills in a way a traditional resume cannot. Creating an effective online presence requires thoughtful planning, from selecting the right projects to showcasing your personal brand. A…

[identitty-dickruption]

when abled people talk about employability + disability I don't think they entirely understand the domino effect of unemployment/underemployment that can happen in a disabled person's life

the kinds of jobs that are considered 'unskilled' or 'entry level' are inaccessible for various reasons (e.g. involve having to stand up for long periods of time)

the time in your life when many people are expected to start working these entry level jobs is while you're still in school. the sheer exhaustion of school means that even when those jobs aren't completely inaccessible, many disabled people simply do not have the energy to do them

without any work experience, it's very hard to get work. the kinds of jobs that tend to have more accessible workplaces are either not entry-level or require a certain level of education to enter them. also without having gone through a hiring process before, it's very hard to even know what to expect from a job, which only creates additional barriers

even if you do have work experience, being disabled is not really taken as a valid reason to have gaps in your resume, which means you immediately look like a suspicious/risky hire to a HR department

disabled people, once we do have jobs, are more likely to be underemployed than abled people, meaning that we have fewer opportunities to demonstrate our skills in the workplace, and are less likely to be able to accumulate a back catalogue of good references to take with us in the 'getting a new job' mission. this itself keeps us underemployed

NOT to mention the fact that the exact same process can happen with respect to education (the being in special ed -> being able to go to university pipeline is basically non-existent. and if it is there, it is very hard to navigate). I'm not sure yet another 'employable skills program' can get us out of this one, chief

[daloy-politsey]

Instead of making posts about what people halfway across the world should do on a dying website, I'm going to link to organizations that you can donate to that can actually help.

Medical Aid for Palestinians (MAP) works for the health and dignity of Palestinians living under occupation and as refugees. They provide immediate medical aid to those in great need, while also developing local capacity and skills to ensure the long-term development of the Palestinian healthcare system. 

Addameer Prisoner Support and Human Rights Association is a Palestinian non-governmental civil institution that works to support Palestinian political prisoners held in Israeli and Palestinian prisons.

Samidoun is an international network of organizers and activists working to build solidarity with Palestinian prisoners in their struggle for freedom.

Refuser Solidarity Network provides crucial support to Israel's military refusers in the toughest of political circumstances. They provide funds for for demonstrations outside prison, for legal fees, for media campaigns that tell conscientious objector’s stories to the general public, for education programs for Israeli and American audiences about their important resistance to the occupation.

Feel free to reblog with links to other groups and other places people can donate to.

[ceasarslegion]

I'm not actually inherently against the idea of prison labour in the sense that I am not against fairly compensated, voluntary jobs for prisoners. If there was a well-regulated program in place to give prisoners jobs with the same paycheque anyone else in that field gets, with training, work experience, job skills, etc when they got out I'd be all for it. That way they'd have a proper resume and demonstrated skills to fall back on and could find work and rejoin society again on their own independence, like how rehabilitation is supposed to work. Actually, add some financial literacy and life skills education on top of that while they're serving their sentence, and you're setting them up for success rather than re-incarceration when they get out again. What I'm against is slave labour forced upon prisoners for pennies on the dollar, if they get anything at all.

[reasonsforhope]

"In an unprecedented success for conservation efforts, a tiny population of Guam kingfishers given a new home has laid its first eggs—after 40 years of the species being extinct in the wild.

Exterminated from its Guam island home by invasive brown tree snakes, the kingfisher, known by Guam locals as a ‘sihek’, has survived entirely in captivity, managed by a global collaboration of conservationists called the Sihek Recovery Program.

The program introduced the birds to the Palmyra Atoll thousands of miles from Guam in order to create a wild-born population that can regain natural skills until their native island has been cleared of the invasive reptile—and the sihek can return to its ancestral home.

GNN reported in September of 2022 that 20 sihek eggs were set to be transferred to Hawaii to be born in an aviary with conditions and flora similar to that of Palmyra Atoll.

The journey to recovery would be long, complex, and in some ways unprecedented. In order to reduce the risk of foreign germs or parasites spreading to atoll, the resulting sihek chicks were going to be hand-reared until 9 of them could be transferred in cages to Palmyra.

After getting their “ticket to ride” by the vet traveling with them, they would finally be able to return to the wilderness. But the program teams didn’t know which of the available prey species the sihek will favor, didn’t know what time of year, considering the 365-day perfect temperatures, the birds will breed, or how far they would disperse.

But despite the miles and the unknowns, their remarkable release last autumn was a success by any reasonable metric. Four female and five male birds quickly explored their new home, learning how to forage and hunt new prey within the tropical forest.

Four pairs have since established territories, built nests, and laid eggs, marking the first time the species has bred in the wild since its extinction from Guam in the 1980s...

Pictured: First confirmed wild-laid sihek eggs in almost 40 years

With the mated pairs less than a year old, this is their first time incubating and caring for eggs, meaning it’s likely it will take a few rounds of egg laying for the birds to hone their skills and hatch chicks, a statement from ZSL read. Nonetheless, these eggs demonstrate both the tremendous resilience of these remarkable birds and the power of conservation to create a second chance for species on the brink of extinction.

“After many long days last year looking after these birds when they were just tiny eggs and chicks, it’s so rewarding to see them beginning their journey towards raising their own chicks in the forests of Palmyra Atoll,” Charlotte James, one of the London Zoo bird keepers who hand-reared the birds.

“It’s hard not to feel like a proud parent seeing them out there thriving and making history—and an honor to be part of the ongoing mission to bring sihek back from the brink of extinction.”

Plans are underway for more young sihek to be released at Palmyra Atoll this summer. Egg laying season is underway at participating (Association of Zoos and Aquariums) AZA-accredited institutions across the US. As they grow to maturity, these chicks will also journey to Palmyra, with the ultimate goal of establishing ten breeding pairs there. The wild sihek at Palmyra Atoll will pave the way for a growing, wild sihek population for the first time in decades.

Then maybe, just maybe, at some point in the distant future, the descendants of these birds who’ve regained their wild skills will be able to practice them on the island of their origin once again."

-via Good News Network, April 26, 2025

[yourlipstogodsears]

…What Are We? (Michael Robinavich Fic)

Summary: You and Robby are exes, he’s still in love with her. can they get over the hurdle that drew them apart: the death of their mentor.

(Mention of grief and death of Adamson, lots of sappy monologues and heart to heart)

She and Robby spend most of shift sharing longing eye contact when the other isn’t looking. Medical procedures where Robby has to talk you through it in his slow gravelly steady voice put you in a trance. a floating memory. His hand over yours as he guides you through it. feeling familiarity in the positioning. He uses any opportunity to tease her playfully or compliment her skills.

Robby smirks slightly, knowing he's making you uncomfortable. He intentionally uses your full name in front of the students, trying to hide his feelings while subtly showing off your skills. “Dr. Y/n would you mind demonstrating the procedure for these students? You have the most elegant technique I've seen."

She gives a tight lipped smile at Robby and nods, “oh uh- sure. I hate being put on the fly but.. hey that’s emergency medicine.. right?” You joke softly and laughs and moves to position herself correctly. “everyone position so you can see the monitor- Whittaker stand by Robby.. don’t need you needing a 4th scrub change..”

He chuckles softly, appreciating your attempt to lighten the mood and maintain professionalism. He steps aside, allowing you to take the lead, but keeps his eyes on you the entire time. He watches your every move, not just for the procedure but also to steal glances at your face when you're focused.

You look around at the med students- Javadi, Santos and Whittaker. “can anyone tell me why I’m doing open instead of less invasive right now?”

Javadi raises her hand eagerly, hoping to answer correctly. she’s the top student in the class, always prepared. "Because the patient's CT showed multiple internal injuries and possible organ lacerations, making laparoscopic repair risky and time-consuming?" she answers confidently.

You nods, “good Javadi. Come here and hold this for me?” You hold the tool for the student, “come on I won’t bite.”

Javadi steps forward, taking the tool with a small smile. She's used to your no-nonsense approach. Santos watches you intently, while Whittaker keeps looking around nervously between robby and you instead of the procedure. Robby watches you closely, his eyes flicking between your hands and face.

As the procedure ends, the med students can't help but feel a sense of admiration for the way you taught them today. Your calm demeanor, expertise, and willingness to engage with them made the learning experience enjoyable. Robby watches as you finish up, a small smile playing on his lips.

You smile, “go on.. you all have rounds and other patients and charting to do. I won’t keep you..”

The students file out, chatting excitedly about the procedure and your teaching style. Robby lingers behind, pretending to tidy up the instruments but really just wanting a moment alone with you. Once the door closes behind the last student, he turns to face you with a warm smile.

she looks at robby, “i really missed having med students around… ill never forgive Gloria for cutting the med student program during covid..” you say softly, trying to talk about anything but feelings. “they’re like our kids”

jesus.. why’d I say that.. knowing Robby wanted kids with her. Knowing they almost had it all.

His heart aches at your words, remembering the dreams they once shared. He steps closer, his voice low and sincere. "I know. I missed having them here too. And you were always the best teacher... still are." He pauses, his eyes searching yours. "You know..."

“Hm?” You gently tape the gauze into place on the patient and puts the blankets back.

"You almost sound like a mom when you talk about the students.” He tests the waters, trying to hide the fact that he used to picture you pregnant with their kids. He watches you carefully, your gentle movements tending to the patient like you would a child. He swallows hard.

You smile, “I guess in a way we are kinda like parents. Teaching them, giving them guard rails and hoping none of them end up killing anyone…”

"Exactly." He laughs softly, watching your nurturing side come out. He realizes this is one of the reasons he fell in love with you - your motherly instinct. He lowers his voice again, "Do you... Do you want kids?"

“You know I always did…”

He nods slowly, his expression softening. He knows this is delicate ground, but he can't help but press a little further. "And do you still...?" He lets the question hang in the air between them, hoping you'll fill in the blanks.

You nod, “I don’t think that just goes away.. atleast not for me..”

His heart aches at your response. He reaches out and gently takes your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. "I want kids with you." The words come out sudden and raw, filled with emotion he can't hold back anymore. "I want a family with you."

her entire demeanor melts, “Michael..”you say softly, your soft blue eyes looking at him.

"I know I messed up." He steps closer, his voice filled with desperation. "I was scared and I pushed you away. But every day without you feels like a mistake." He cups your face gently. "I want us to try again. I want us to be a family."

You sigh and turn, “I’m not sure- I mean we ended awfully and I finally got to a good place mentally.. emotionally.. I mean we both lost Adamson…”

He nods, understanding your hesitation. He drops his hands and takes a step back, giving you space. "I get it. I know we ended on a terrible note, and losing Adamson... it was devastating for both of us." He pauses, running a hand through his hair.

“And you still haven’t unpacked that for yourself” you say softly. You were always right and it made Robby agitated when you’d call him out even gently. Robby is the king of compartmentalization until he implodes. He’d rather hold it in til he implodes than have someone deal with him and his issues.

His expression turns distant, a familiar wall going up around his emotions. "I'm fine. I deal with it." He says dismissively, turning away from you to grab a coffee mug from the cabinet. "Can we not talk about Adamson right now?"

“You dont though… that’s what broke us” you state it again. He needs to face it. He can’t keep rushing around pushing the grief down. Handing everyone’s problems but his own.

He freezes, his back still turned to you. He grips the coffee mug tightly, knuckles turning white. "I know." His voice is low and strained. "But I can't keep rehashing it. It's done and over with."

You nod, “so why bring up wanting a family with me again if you’re not in a place to even talk about Adamson” she knows he blames himself for losing Adamson. Could’ve done ECMO longer, maybe he could’ve saved him and the little girl.

He turns back around, his face a mask of frustration and pain. He slams the coffee mug down on the counter hard enough to make a slam echo. "Because!" He shouts, his voice echoing in the kitchen. "Because every time I look at you, I see what could've been."

“I need you to lose the bass in your voice real fast” you snap back in her quiet sharp whisper, the breakroom isn’t sound proof. Everyone is probably hearing this right now.

He swallows hard, dropping his voice to almost a whisper himself. He knows you snap like this when you're angry or hurt. He chooses his next words carefully. "Do you want to know why I asked if you wanted kids again?" He asks softly, his jaw tight.

“Sure..” you move closer to him.

He watches you approach, his eyes flicking down to your lips briefly before meeting your gaze again. He takes a deep breath. "I want a family with you because when I look at you, I don't just see a life lost. I see a life gained."

You frown and sigh, “c’mere”

Without hesitation, he steps into your arms, wrapping his around you tightly. He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. He's been starved of your comfort for too long. "I'm sorry," he murmurs against your skin. "I'm so sorry."

“Nothin to be sorry about..”

"Yes there is." He pulls back to look at you, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I pushed you away when I should've held you closer. I shut down instead of grieving with you. I ruined everything." His voice breaks on the last word. "I ruined us."

He leans into your touch, letting his tall frame fold slightly so he can rest his forehead against yours. "I miss you in my bed at night. I miss your goddamn tea in the morning. I miss you calling me an idiot." He lets out a shaky breath.

You nod, and then he starts Ho'oponopono. The Hawaiian ritual that Adamson taught them for forgiveness, reconciliation and interconnection. They use it for grieving families who are nondenominational. But it works for a lot of things. they are the starting point for the toughest conversation they’ve needed to have.

As he begins, his voice deepens and steadies. "I'm sorry for being an ass all those years ago…. Please forgive me for shutting you out instead of leaning on you after Adamson passed. Thank you for staying in my life in every capacity- friend, lover, everything but a stranger even when I don’t deserve it. I love you to the ends of the earth."

she sniffles softly, she’s crying.. she’s never cried infront of him before.

Seeing your tears, Robby's heart shatters. He cups your face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears. "Please don’t cry," he whispers hoarsely. "I can’t stand seeing you cry. Not over me." He takes a deep breath.

“That was the sweetest most genuine things you’ve ever said to me. No barriers of sarcasm to hide behind.. just raw and feeling…” she whispers gently.

His expression softens even more. He realizes that he's never truly opened up like this before. No jokes, no sarcasm, no deflecting. He sees how your expression has changed, like you’re finally seeing a part of him you never have before.

she smiles and big tears fall down her cheeks.

He kisses the tears away gently, his hands framing your face. He pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly against his chest. You can feel his heart beating steadily, strongly. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent deeply. "Shh..." He murmurs softly.

“I’m sorry I was hard on you for not opening up when I was ready to talk about Adamson.. I forgot people grieve at their own pace…” she sniffles. This is her turn to do ho’oponopono for him.

He freezes at your words, realizing that you’re not just apologizing, but also understanding him in a way no one ever has. He holds you tighter, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. For the first time since Adamson’s death, he feels understood, cared for, not judged.

she sniffles more, “please forgive me for not always being the best partner for you during covid when we were both overwhelmed and overworked and grieving. That’s not who we are at our core..”

His voice breaks slightly. "There’s nothing to forgive," he whispers. "I wasn’t the best either. We were both drowning." He pulls back to look at you, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

she sniffles and wipes tears, “thank you for being exactly who you are.. you are everything i need and more.. you make me smile and laugh even when i don’t want to. It’s like you go out of your way to do it..”

He smiles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He realizes that he does that intentionally - tries to make her smile even when she's sad, tries to distract her from her grief with jokes and silliness. He pulls you back into the hug. "I love you," he says quietly.

“I love you endlessly Michael” she says gently through her watery voice.

He inhales sharply at your words, feeling them like a physical touch. He presses his lips to your hair, kissing you softly. He feels something shift inside him - like a weight has been lifted off his chest. He feels lighter, happier than he has in months.

she hugs him tightly, “Adamson would be proud of this…”

At the mention of Adamson, Robby's eyes well up with tears again. But this time, it's not just grief - it's gratitude and peace. He believes Adamson would be happy to see them healing, communicating, loving each other through their pain. "Yeah," he whispers,

“He’d be proud of you.. you got thrusted into a position of power.. chief of the ER even while grieving.. you handled it.. and are continuing to handle it…” she continues, Robby needs to hear this.

He nods, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. Your words mean more to him than you know. He had often wondered if he was doing enough, if he was strong enough to lead while grieving. Hearing you say that Adamson would be proud of him means the world.

“You are the best parts of him…” she makes sure Robby looks at her when she says that. he needs to know that reality.

He closes his eyes tightly, a single tear escaping and rolling down his cheek. Your words hit him deeply, resonating with a truth he hadn't fully allowed himself to feel. He pulls you even closer, as if trying to absorb your comfort and belief in him. "God, I needed to hear that,"

“I don’t think anyone stopped to see how difficult your task was after Adamson…”

His arms tighten around you reflexively at your understanding words. No one had ever put it into those terms before - the immense pressure and loneliness of stepping into Adamson's shoes amidst a pandemic. Another tear falls silently. "Everyone just expected me to..." He pauses,"Be him."

“You did it flawlessly”

He lets out a shaky laugh, a rare genuine one. "Flawlessly?" He traces your cheekbone gently. "There were nights I barely slept. Nights I sat alone in my office wondering how the hell I was supposed to fill his shoes. And nobody saw that."

“Everyone was processing trying to find a way to carry on. He was a powerhouse. And so are you.”

Your words of praise and understanding break him. He buries his face in your neck, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. All the pent-up emotion, the loneliness, the pressure - it all comes pouring out. He clings to you like a lifeline, his tears soaking into your skin.

“You found your own way to do things. You’re true to your roots.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes red and swollen from crying but filled with gratitude. He cups your face gently with both hands, wiping away any stray tears from his cheeks onto yours in an intimate gesture. “You have no idea how much it means to hear that,” he repeats hoarsely.

she kisses his nose gently,“I guess we can give it another shot.. if…”

His breath hitches as you kiss his nose. He's always been self-conscious about it, but the way you cherish it melts his heart. He looks at you with a mixture of hope and trepidation, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. “If what?"

“If you wanted to”

He searches your eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation or doubt. Finding none, he lets out a soft sigh, his thumbs still gently caressing your cheeks. "You know I do," he admits softly. "I never stopped wanting to, even when everything was falling apart."

“Okay. Let’s uh go wrangle the med students..” she tries to break the heavy atmosphere after the reconciliation.

He chuckles softly at your sudden change in topic, but he's grateful for the reprieve from the heavy emotions. He stands up, pulling you up with him and giving you a quick, affectionate peck on the lips before heading towards the door. "Let's go."

[so-i-did-this-thing]

when you changed careers, how did you get people to give you a chance? im very interested in trying to change departments at my current job, and nervous about being considered seriously

A lot is sheer force of will. Despite being shy and an introvert, I have a strong and charismatic work persona, including in interviews (my music training helps a lot here). And it's really just practice that gets you to that point.

But there's still others things I did:

When I went from a music performance degree into web design, I relied on some certifications, my freelance and hobby portfolio, and being able to talk shop to land me a job. I also talked about how my music training gave me unique soft skills (able to teach myself and others, able to work both independently and in groups, etc).

When I went from web design to project management + business development (same company), I pointed to all the ways I was already doing the new job, from leading meetings to defining scope to writing status reports.

When I went from project management to programming lead (new company), it was portfolio again + being able to position myself as a solid hybrid.

When I went from web programming in advertising to service design + product owner in govtech, it was about positioning my background as both a technical and soft skills strength (understanding scope, being able to communicate with diverse stakeholders).

And when I went from service design to product management (back to private sector), I read a ton of books right before the interview to talk shop and positioned all aspects of my 20+ year background to demonstrate I was well-versed in the entire product lifestyle, despite having very little formal product management experience.

Tldr; Be well-read enough in the new role to be able to talk shop and demonstrate how your previous experiences can make you uniquely qualified for your new role. Portfolios and case studies, if applicable, also help tremendously.

[brucewaynehater101]

Batfam Suicide Squad AU:

Villainous versions of all of the Bats are shoved into one universe together. Up until this point in the AU, they do not know each other well. They've maybe seen each other on the field (which probably ended in fights and held grudges), but they aren't family. They are practically strangers.

Amanda Waller just wants to kill them. However, somehow, there's a force that's even worse than these fuckers. She needs a team to take that down, even if the participants are unwilling.

Bruce Wayne:

A cunning villain who can naturally lead teams. He primarily works alone but has proven to be efficient with any person he has to work with. He can bring out their better attributes, but he's ruthless, wary, and an asshole. He has contingency plans to take down anyone and everyone

Dick Grayson:

Practically immortal half-Talon assassin for hire. His rumored mentors are other Talons, Deathstroke, Superman, and various Titans. His skills in combat are fierce, his abilities are enhanced by his state, and his early childhood acrobatics do wonders for his abilities to escape and fight. These pale in comparison to his natural charisma and ability to turn enemies into allies.

Barbara Gordon:

The best hacker on this side of the galaxy. While she mainly stays off of the field due to her being paralyzed from the waist down, she is a formidable opponent. A significant number of politicians worldwide owe her favors, heroes and villains work for her, she knows top secret information, employs a number of traps to protect herself, and understands the nuances in social structures.

Jason Todd:

A brutal enforcer who utilizes fear, power, and death in his territory to demand obedience to his rules. Extremely skilled in various weapons, hand-to-hand combat, bomb making, and demonstrations of force. His senses, healing speed, and reflexes are uniquely enhanced by his exposure to Lazarus Pits. Despite his persona of being quick to anger, he's a masterful tactian and manipulator.

Cass Cain:

The only candidate who does not kill. Her combat prowess exceeds all other candidates and is rarely defeated in battle. Her eerie silence, ability to read others far more accurately than even psychics, and her stealthiness lead her existence to being more of a feared rumor than a confirmed sighting.

Tim Drake:

While he can defeat a range of opponents in combat, his strength lie in the plots he enacts anonymously. He is skilled in plucking strings and dominoes to create the outcomes he desires. Other abilities include hacking, combat, stealth, disguises, and manipulation. For any battle he prepares for, he rarely loses. Only a small handful of his crimes can be proven to be caused by him.

Steph Brown:

She is skilled in deflection, disguises, social circumstances, combat, and observations. Brown utilizes a variety of personas to distract her victims and lead them astray. She's deadly, but hides this aspect well.

Duke Thomas:

A daring and charismatic leader of a meta rights movement. His group has committed various crimes in their pursuits. He is the only born meta of the group, extremely skilled in utilizing his powers, decisive in outcomes, skilled in combat, and ruthless to prejudice. He can be charming and is extremely emotionally intelligent, which is a skill he uses to subtly influence others.

Damian Al Ghul:

Due to his high kill count, special permission has been given to allow the sixteen year old to be entered into the program. He's exceptionally skilled in all weapon combat but primarily uses swords and knives. He's astute and can utilize his age as a finely tuned weapon to infiltrate, distract, or disappear. He has experience with leading, murder for hire, and complex missions.

Alfred Pennyworth:

A formidable marksman and retired serviceman for MI6. His skills with all styles of guns, acting abilities, unflappable manner, medic training, vehicle maneuverabilites, and sharp tongue aid him in any supportive role. Although he is unlikely to assist on field, he will provide necessary background aid.

Tim and Barbara, in this AU, have both grudges and respect for each other. Tim does not match Barbara's computer skills, but he's a far better foe to her than most. Usually, Tim has a policy to bow out when Barbara is involved or find a way to hide his involvement from her.

Bruce doesn't know Damian is his biological son. Damian hopes to keep him in the dark. Dick, due to his training with blood scents, is the first to know about their relationship. This only occurs after Bruce and Damian get injured on separate missions and Dick makes the connection.

Jason and Damian both have tried to kill Tim. Because Tim seemingly can't die to their attacks, the two have made a game out of trying to kill Tim whenever they see him. Jason and Damian do not know the other also does this. Jason refers to Tim as a "cockroach-like bastard."

One of the batkids jokingly refers to Bruce as "Dad" and Alfred as "Gramps" due to their older age. This catches on with the rest of the batkids until it becomes a regular and fond nickname for the older men.

Bruce had a plan to escape with the help of Kate. After seeing Damian (he doesn't know that's his son), Bruce decides he can't leave a kid. Then he becomes fond of the rest of the group and delays his escape plan again until he can escape with them.

Which of the Bats know each other from encounters in the field? Who holds grudges against each other? What led each Bat to become a villain?

As far as background shit, idk.

I might update with a criminal dossier for each bat later

(In case it wasn't clear, this is a batfam meet late forced found family AU)

@hisaribi helped me with this ^^

[glissadia]

Introductory Lessons

The end of the semester is celebrated, and Selin gets some answers to her questions. 6.7k words. (This is a continuation of Upon Further Examination, which you should read before this!)

Carlton Abernanth is a man of middling stature, skillful oration, and absolutely horrendous taste in furniture, but since he is Penrose Academy’s current headmaster and therefore my direct superior, I am required to regularly subject myself to what may very well be the most garishly upholstered sitting room in the entire continent. Dandelion-yellow leather is a crime to both the eyes and whatever poor creature it came from, and there have been many times over the seven years he’s held this position that I have come within a hair’s breadth of bringing one of my own chairs to these meetings, decorum be damned. It’s almost enough to override the respect I have for the man and his runework, built up during the time that he was a fellow professor and now being the only thing saving six armchairs and two sofas from a sustained bout of concentrated dragonflame.

Goddess above. Yellow leather.

"So!" he says brightly, pouring and offering me a cup of tea from the ornate tea set that seems to live on the table here. "I take it you had an interesting round of final examinations?"

I take a sip, not bothering to test the temperature first. It’s one of the blends that Ember enjoys serving me, not prepared up to her standard but still leagues better than the stuff he used to stock. I’m sure the fact that he switched over shortly after I offhandedly complained about it to Ember is purely a coincidence. I’ve never asked her, and she would never say anything unless I did.

"'Interesting' hardly seems like the right term," I respond. "Some imaginative work, of course, like we get every semester, but the median grade was only in the low nineties. Inscription precision was the most common deduction, so I’ll look to adjusting the curriculum to spend more time on it in the future."

"It’s still nothing to scoff at," Carlton replies, and I almost want to scoff at that. "Neither is the fact that students are coming out of your class better-prepared than any other secondary program on the continent. Do you know how many attempts to poach you I’ve had to fend off?"

"Dozens of letters a day, I’m sure," I wave him off. "And you know it’s not a competition to me. I don’t care about the other schools; I care that I’m bringing my students to their fullest potential. Something that reflects poorly on me if they don’t reach that point."

"Fair enough," he concedes, before burning his tongue on his own tea and playing it off in hopes I won’t notice. "Clearly you had at least one student who did, though."

I hide a soft smile with a sigh. A full week has passed since Selin’s demonstration, and thinking about it still fills me with a swirl of varied emotions. Of course, I’m not at all surprised that he’d bring it up.

"Selin Lettea’s ritual work was the best I’ve seen in two decades of teaching, and that includes the other faculty as well as almost all of my own work," I state, without exaggeration. "Not only that, but she demonstrated levels of professionalism, tenacity, and adaptation I’ve been forced to learn are too much to ask from seasoned court magicians, let alone students. I fully believe the grade is justified."

"And I’m not saying I don’t believe you!" he reassures me. "But a full twenty percent on top of a perfect score, for an end-of-semester project? I think I can count on two hands the number of perfect evaluations I’ve seen you give out, let alone greater than perfect. I know better than to suggest it’s solely because she’s one of your mentees, but please, I’d love to be enlightened."

I slump in that horrendous yellow chair, just barely, but I’m sure Carlton picks up on it.

"There were… extenuating circumstances at play."

He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t speak. I sigh again, genuinely this time.

"In my eyes, Selin earned perfect marks from the very beginning, flawlessly executing her ritual as designed and correcting the induced errors almost as soon as I made them. I wouldn’t call the ritual itself groundbreaking by any means, but it shows a comprehensive understanding of the principles I taught as well as a knack for efficient and reproducible design, even without taking into account the constraints of the situation."

"Constraints?"

"Apparently," I start, then pause to take another sip of tea, "she has mana instability as well."

The second eyebrow joins the first, turning from questioning encouragement to surprise. As was the case with his predecessor, I’ve had to paint a slightly different picture of my identity with Headmaster Abernanth than I do with the rest of the faculty. Nothing explicit, of course, but over the centuries you pick up a thing or two about misdirection. In this case, the occasional offhand comment or reaction that implies I had a much more direct involvement with the Abrestan-Junal War some two decades ago now than the average noblewoman would have at the time. Pair that with the fact that Leora of Afton, frontline combatant for Abresta and one of the most notorious sorceresses in the continent, disappeared close to the end of the conflict after very publicly taking a curse to the chest, and you have a simple little deception that makes people think they’re so clever for figuring me out and neatly cuts off any further curiosity right there.

The fact that Leora was really just a way for me to express my criticisms of the Junal ruling class in a somewhat constructive manner makes the whole thing a bit easier to sell.

"And no, I don’t know the cause, though I sincerely doubt it’s the same reason as mine," I lie, preempting the natural follow-up question. "It could be entirely natural for her, for all I know. But because I didn’t know about it, I failed to account for it, and due to no fault of her own, the ritual failed. She remade it perfectly, then tried again. And again. It was only on the twenty-third attempt that I identified what was happening and fixed the issue. In my eyes, the level of dedication and perseverance she expressed in spite of what was happening is nothing short of astounding. If that grade isn’t deserved, then clearly I should be failing all my other students for their relative performance."

"No, no, I’m not pushing back," Carlton assures me, then drinks, finally satisfied with the temperature. "Based on what you’ve told me, she sounds like one of the most promising students of the year. Do you know if she’s planning to specialize? Those results would certainly suggest a promising future in ritual work."

"Not yet, but…" I hesitate. I know this is the right call, but that still doesn’t prevent voicing it from making me feel oddly… vulnerable, in a way? "I was thinking of offering her an actual apprenticeship. Holistic."

"Really?" he asks, sounding genuinely surprised. Which I can’t blame him for; I haven’t ever shown an inclination to take someone on in that capacity. "Full-time?"

"Goddess no. At least, not during the school year. If she didn’t keep her studies well-rounded I’d fail her myself. But I see potential in her, and I plan on making sure it becomes fully actualized."

I’m almost mildly surprised to realize I’m telling the truth. Maybe not the whole truth, but even discounting Selin’s nature, there’s a chance I might have decided to make this offer anyway. Isn’t that a thought.

The conversation winds down with a much briefer discussion of the results some of my other students managed to achieve, and finally I am freed from that awful room with its awful furniture. With classes over and final examinations winding down, the academy halls carry a much more relaxed atmosphere than the weeks prior. Students making preparations to head home, celebrating (or lamenting) grades, and generally enjoying the figurative weight off their shoulders. My own schedule for the immediate future is much more self-directed, but it's not yet time for me to fully relax. I’ve got centuries to do that, and a hatchling to teach right now.

Selin is, as requested, waiting for me when I get back to my rooms. I haven’t actually seen the girl since her final project a week ago, distance I imposed myself in an attempt to at least try to get her to focus on the rest of her finals rather than the newfound revelations of that day. A somewhat futile attempt, of course, even with threatening to wipe her memories of the entire examination if she were to not perform up to the standards I know she’s capable of. Still, from what I’ve heard from the rest of the staff, she’s performed admirably. All for the best, I suppose, since my experience in mental magic is barely more than theoretical and I would never actually think to take this away from her, no matter what her results were.

"I hope you two are ready to get out of here, because I am in desperate need of fresh air," I declare as soon as I walk in, breaking Selin and Ember from their conversation. "Ember, is everything packed?"

"Yes, my lady!" she chirps, holding up a picnic basket.

"Okay, that answers one question," Selin comments, "but also hi, hello, I’m still not entirely sure what it is we’re doing today?"

"Picnic lunch," I say. "To celebrate the end of a very eventful semester, or, well, the very eventful end of a semester. Because I think we all need some time to unwind, and I’d rather have the discussions we’re going to have away from others."

The promise of a discussion seems to placate her for now, her eyes sparkling like they did a week ago when I gave her that massive gemstone from my hoard. The felt bag that went with it now rests on her hip, tied to her belt, bulging with the rough-cut corundum inside. It’s probably a bit awkward to carry around like that, but I could never fault her for doing so. I have a feeling it’s going to be a while before she’s fully comfortable with letting her small hoard out of her sight. I know it took me a good amount of time, at least.

"Right, then," I continue. "Did you have breakfast?"

"Um, a bit, yeah?"

"Clear your lungs, take a deep breath, and hold it," I instruct, striding forward to place a hand on Ember’s shoulder and Selin’s sternum. "Ready? Three, two, one."

Despite her visible confusion, Selin does as I ask and inhales, just in time for me to pulse a bit of magic through her torso, paralyzing her diaphragm, intestinal, and abdominal muscles. Her eyes barely have time to widen before I force us all through space, bringing them both with me through a teleport not quite so long-distance as the trip to my cave. It’s over in an instant, and I move both my hands to catch Selin under the arms, taking the weight off her buckling legs while her body tries to process what the hell just happened. She entirely fails to vomit, because I know what I’m doing, thank you very much, and I restore control to her after only a few seconds. She immediately exhales and takes a big, shuddering gulp of air, then another, while I wait patiently for her to recover.

"W-what the hell?" she finally manages to say.

"Teleportation," I state. "We’re about two days’ trek east. I like to get out of the city for an afternoon sometimes, and this is a rather good spot to do it."

"Is it always this bad?" Selin asks, to which I shake my head.

"First time’s the worst," I tell her. "It only gets better from here, once your body gets more familiar with the sensation. It’ll also be vastly smoother when you’re the one doing it yourself. Are you alright?"

"I will be," she says, taking deliberate, measured breaths. "Maybe a little warning next time, please?"

"Once you’ve learned not to tense up."

Selin recovers remarkably quickly and I let go of her once she seems to be able to balance. Ember, having been fine after only a couple of seconds, gives her a once-over and a flask of water, which she downs rather quickly. Only then does Selin actually take a look around at our surroundings.

"Woah. You… were not kidding."

The meadow the three of us are standing in is rather idyllic, in my opinion. It’s absolutely blanketed in wildflowers, which gives the incredibly fresh air a pleasant floral note. The temperature is perfect too, helped by the fact that we’re far into the middle of a mountain range here and the early spring heat is cut down by a bit. And, as best as I’ve been able to identify during my trips here, there isn’t a trace of civilization around for miles. A wonderful location for a picnic.

Laying out a blanket and getting things unpacked is quick work with six hands helping, and once I’m sitting down I close my eyes and finally, finally let myself relax a bit. A lot, actually. Even with all my experience, both with teaching and beyond it, there’s no easy way to just magically block all the stress that naturally builds up over the course of a semester from getting to you. I’ve looked, but it doesn’t exist. Not unless you’re willing to get pretty far deep into mind-altering substances, and that’s a bit much for my tastes. No, even though I love teaching, there’s a reason I look forward to breaks. This particular summer might be a good bit different from the others, but I have a feeling it’ll be rejuvenating in its own way.

"Professor?"

I tilt my head up and open my eyes, looking at Selin. She’s looking back at me with a slightly hesitant expression, and uses one hand to gesture to her cheek.

"You’ve got a…"

I lift up a hand to touch my own face, and… oh. Ha. Well, there’s a reason I normally don’t let myself feel this loose around others. Glancing over at Ember, I see she’s barely managing to hold in a giggle, impertinent creature that she is.

"Nothing you haven’t seen before," I say, leaning back again and gazing up at the sky. Giving my body a bit more mental slack, consciously this time, the smattering of scales that had slipped onto my face bloom into patches, not fully covering me but enough to ease some of the barely noticeable tension that lives in the back of my head whenever I’m keeping to a human form. "A consequence of letting myself enjoy the environment, so to speak. Not usually a problem, but just something to keep in mind depending on the current company at the time."

"Ah," Selin responds succinctly. She doesn’t say more, but I can feel the unspoken questions anyway. Well, no point in delaying.

"Alright," I say, pushing myself all the way back up to a sitting position and facing her, a slight smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Be honest. How much time did you spend reading about us while you should have been studying?"

"That’s… a subjective measure," she answers, affronted. I say nothing. "But… maybe six hours?"

I raise a ridged eyebrow. Selin squirms.

"Okay, more like… twelve-ish. But it’s fine, I had to take breaks from studying anyway, and Professor Aldebaran literally had us make sleep-substitution potions as the last assignment before finals."

"Which I tell her is a horrible idea every year, and yet here we are," I say, pinching the bridge of nose to disguise itching it. Letting my scales come in leisurely like this is nice, but they have a tendency to tingle. "But I digress. I wish you hadn’t, but unfortunately I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same, were I in your position. What have you gotten through so far? I’m very familiar with the contents of the academy’s library."

"Um, most of Draconis Magnificens, the relevant portions of Thorne’s Feather, Scale, and Aether, Children of the Sky-Fire was well-written but more about weird dragon-worshipping cult stuff than usable information, and one of the librarians recommended Blackwood’s Spark to Shadow for soul stuff. It felt like more of a think-piece than practical information, but apparently it’s hard to find anything on the topic that isn’t written from a primarily religious perspective."

"Spark to Shadow isn’t bad, but I doubt it’ll have what you’re looking for," I hum. "I’ve got some relevant works in my library at home that you might enjoy. I have… somewhat of a personal interest in the matter."

This earns me a small laugh from both girls, which is nice.

"The Scale of Feather, Scale, and Aether isn’t bad either," I press on. "Aris Thorne doesn’t make many assumptions, which is nice, but he still takes a rather human-centric approach to his presentation. Draconis Magnificens is so inaccurate it’s basically fiction, I’m sorry to say. Sky-Fire is a mostly accurate account of a period of my life I don’t love dwelling on, so let’s just skip that one, shall we?"

Selin’s eyes open a bit wider at that little revelation, but thankfully she doesn’t press.

"I found a bit more, research papers and whatnot, but there wasn’t really anything I could confirm as credible," she says, shrugging. "So I eventually figured it would be best to just… ask you."

I nod slowly, accepting my second cup of tea for the day from Ember almost without thinking. Selin gets one too, and knowing Ember, the temperature will be right on the upper edge of what she can currently handle. We’ll have to take some time to get that up.

"Never a bad conclusion to come to," I say. "Do you have specific questions, or would you like a more general overview of things?"

"I do have specific questions," Selin starts, "but I think I’d like to hear your overview. You probably have a better idea of what’s immediately relevant than I do."

"In that case, then, we’ll start with the soul," I state. "If you’ll recall, at our last meeting, I mentioned a… mismatch, so to speak. Being born with a soul not befitting of the body."

Selin nods, so I continue.

"It’s a technically accurate statement, and conveys the general idea well enough, but it’s not specific. Your soul is, fundamentally, what holds you. Your identity, your personality, your consciousness, everything that makes the girl sitting in front of me right now Selin Lettea and not some zombified husk of habits and automatic responses that merely playacts at being a person. Your soul, working in tandem with your brain, to give you life, shape your thoughts, and make you who you are. The soul serves other purposes as well, of course, the channeling and control of mana being one of the major ones, but that’s not really what we’re focusing on here. The quality of the soul more relevant to us is what happens when you—"

I point one blue-speckled finger at her.

"—start to push up against the bounds of this."

I lean forward and tap her on the forehead. She blinks, then refocuses on me as I sit back.

"I’m not sure I follow."

"I’ll try to illustrate. Imagine your soul as… as… Ember?"

"A plant, my lady."

"A plant, yes, thank you," I nod affirmatively. "A flower, ivy, whatever, it doesn’t matter for the metaphor. You, Selin, that spark of life and identity and consciousness, are a plant contained within a decorative pot. As you start from a metaphorical seed at birth, you grow, putting down roots and sending up sprouts and all those good things plants do. Things are fine for a time as you mature and thrive, but then…"

I hold up the same hand I used to poke her in a closed fist, slowly spreading my fingers before abruptly stopping in place.

"You find that you have run up against the edges of the pot. Your roots have permeated every bit of soil, your leaves are eking out every bit of sunlight they can get from the shelf the pot is placed on, and every drop of water you get is quickly sucked up, leaving you dry and wanting more. And yet, there is still so much more left for you to grow. Are you following me so far?"

"I think so, yeah," she answers.

"Right. For most people, this is a non-issue. They have been planted correctly, with a pot adequately sized and shaped for their needs, to let their roots grow comfortably and soak up all the nutrients they need for a lifetime. But for others, like us, they are quite literally a different kind of plant. Some need a different climate, some need more nutrients, but in this case… to put it simply, you’ve been planted in the wrong pot, and it’s choking you. You’ll live, yes, but you won’t thrive. Your leaves will wither, your roots will dry, and eventually you will find your soil and your pot have nothing left to give you, and your life comes to an end. Tragic, preventable, and most people who this happens to don’t even realize that it is the case."

Selin slowly nods, and I can tell from the look on her face that she seems to be understanding. It’s not a perfect metaphor, but I think it serves its purpose.

"There are ways to mitigate this, of course. We can refer to this as adding more soil to the pot, if you’d like, giving you a bit more room to expand. Frankly, just acknowledging the problem for what it is does wonders; that’s a rather large added scoop right there. But, unfortunately, this only works to an extent. Eventually you’ll run up against the rim of the pot and you can’t add any more soil. I should say, when I’m referring to a pot, I’m not talking solely about your physical body. It’s an extremely significant factor, yes, but things like your family and social environment, hobbies, personal fulfillment, the expectations placed upon you, and more all come together to form the bounds of expression and existence you fit within. There’s a bit of wiggle room there, but I hope it conveys the idea properly."

"It does, yes," Selin says, looking contemplative. "So, adding more soil only does so much. What do you do when you’ve added all you can, and it’s still not enough?"

"The answer to that, my dear, is up to you," I inform her. "Tell me. Do you feel fulfilled?"

"What, in life?"

"In life, socially, academically, whatever. I suppose, if we want to get more specific, do you feel as though the paths you are currently on will lead to personal fulfillment in those aspects? Take your time."

"I… uh… wow, okay, wasn’t really expecting this sort of question in this talk." She actually thinks for a minute, which I appreciate. "I… don’t think I have any good reason to believe that they won’t?"

"That’s not what I asked," I counter. Selin looks at me, eyes roaming over my face, taking another moment before she responds.

"Passion and certainty. Confidence and contentment," she says. "Is that what you’re asking about?"

"It is if you think it is. I acknowledge that that’s frustratingly vague, but personal determinism is sort of the name of the game here."

"Then… I think I don’t know. It feels like the kind of thing that’s impossible to know ahead of time, which might speak more to myself than any sort of objective truth of the sapient experience, if that’s what you’re getting at. I have friends, I love my family, I have a feeling I’m at the top of at least one of my classes, I have a lot of promising options for a career. Discounting what we’ve been talking about, shouldn’t all of that be a recipe for personal fulfillment?’ "Perhaps," I say. "But…?"

Selin glances away, taking in the meadow, the mountains, the cloudless sky. She looks down at her teacup, and the bag resting at her hip. When her eyes meet mine again, there’s a depth to them, a touch of intention that wasn’t present before.

"Should. It’s what should be fulfilling."

A small smile starts sneaking its way onto my face again.

"What would fulfill you, Selin?"

She takes a breath.

"I said it before. I don’t know. But… if I break the pot, I might find out."

There she is.

"So," Selin says. "How do I do this?"

The intention in her eyes is resolve now, a fiery determination that I could lead her towards but never outright give her. If, for whatever reason, I were to walk away at this point, I think she has the fuel to figure out the whole thing on her own, like I did. It only serves to reaffirm my decision to help her, though.

"Onto the second topic, then," I smile. "You, Selin, are a dragon. I hope the events of last week proved it well enough for the idea to take root, and in any case that’s something we’ll be working on. That fact is going to be your lifeline and your guiding star. I used to be in the same situation you were, though without anyone to help me through it, and it took me the first eighty precious years of my life to get to the point that I expect you’ll be at in three months. At times, the only thing that kept me going was clinging to that fact like it was the foundation of reality itself."

As I talk, I push more and more of my body into inhumanity. Cerulean scales bloom over every inch of my skin, claws replace nails, and a few blinks see my pupils slitted and much sharper. Each change feels like unclasping a weight from my soul and dropping it, letting myself feel freer and indisputably me. It’s not hard to notice Selin watching me a bit more intently than she was before, though the expression on her face is less than scrutable. My wings neatly fill in the space where the ever-present phantom limb sensation tells me they should be, and I give them a quick stretch and let out a small sigh of relief before continuing.

"The real challenge lies not in knowing who you are academically, but knowing who you are internally. How you think of yourself, what you expect from yourself, what you know to be true and not true about what you are. You need to be able to see yourself in the mirror and know that there is more to you than that shape that you see, and rather than lament what you are not, be proud of what you know you are."

"Is that it?" Selin asks dubiously.

"Oh, of course not," I scoff. "If that was all there was to it, this whole thing wouldn’t be nearly as much of a problem. But it is the first step, and I think you’ll be surprised by just how much It helps. Just give it a try. Say it out loud."

She’s quiet for a moment, lips pursed.

"I don’t… it feels silly."

"Of course it does. You haven’t internalized it yet. But that’s not going to happen unless you say it. What are you?"

She sighs and pulls in on herself a bit.

"I’m… a dragon."

"That wasn’t so hard, was it?" I smile.

"Still felt silly."

"Yeah, but soon it won’t. Here," I say, gesturing to the felt bag at her hip. "Pull out your stone. I think it might help."

She doesn’t push back on this, at least, uncinching the drawstring holding the bag closed and reaching a hand in to pull out the glittering purple corundum I gave her a week ago, grasping it with her other hand as she does. The shift is subtle, of course, but to me the way she sits up just a little straighter while she looks at the large gemstone is as telling as anything. When she meets my gaze again, she looks just a bit more sure, which is all we really need.

"What is that?" I ask her.

"Corundum, you said. The same thing that rubies and sapphires are made of."

"What is it to you?"

"I don’t think I… Oh! It’s my hoard," she says, needing a moment to realize what I’m asking. Looking at her face, it takes a full second and a half after saying that for her to remember that some part of her thinks she needs to feel embarrassed about saying it out loud.

"Why do you have a hoard, Selin?"

"Because you gave it to me?" she tries, with a joking smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. I raise a brow, and she wilts a little. "Because… I’m a dragon."

"Selin, I’m afraid that the lady is incredibly old and therefore very hard of hearing," Ember assists me unhelpfully. "You might need to say it again for her to hear it properly."

Selin rolls her eyes, and I only barely manage to keep myself from doing the same. At the end of the roll, though, her eyes land on the gem in her hands, and her knuckles pale slightly as she takes a deep breath and grips it just a bit tighter.

"Because I’m a dragon."

She has so much further to go, but that’s the first step. Actually acknowledging it. It’ll take a long time for her to fully believe it, of course, but her voice has the hint of confidence I was looking for, the seed that will grow into something strong enough to shatter that pot into a million pieces. Some small part of her believes in who and what she is, and that makes all the difference.

The three of us settle a bit, actually lying down on the picnic blanket to enjoy the environment and take in nature for a change. It’s so radically different from city life, with the only sounds being the breeze gently ruffling the foliage around us, the chirping of birds off in the distance, and our own breathing. I don’t know what’s going through Selin’s head at the moment, but I don’t have to wonder for long.

"Can I ask what might be a silly question?" she says after some time, staring up at the sky.

"If you want to know the answer, then of course," I tell her.

She shifts a bit on the blanket, perhaps in contemplation, perhaps just finding a more comfortable position.

"What does life… look like? After you figure things out. How does it change, I mean?"

I don’t respond immediately, because this isn’t the type of question that should be answered immediately. Despite how she prefaced it, it’s not a silly question at all. It’s important, because I can tell she wants to know what to expect from life, to try and understand the situation she’s found herself in that will have such far-reaching effects. So, how do I answer? What did my life look like, during that century of exploration and obsession? I could describe it for her, sure, but… no.

"I hate to say this again, since I doubt it will be the assurance you’re most likely looking for, but once again I think the answer to that is up to you. It’s your life, Selin, and nobody can tell you how to live it, especially not now. I can say you’ll hopefully go through things with a bit more confidence, at the very least, sure in yourself, your capabilities, and your identity. But beyond that… I can’t divine the answer for you. Your life won’t look like mine, and I wouldn’t recommend it either way. You have so many options ahead of you. Stick to your studies, find something new, do some original research into the nature of the soul, if that’s what interests you. Travel a bit, find ruins, piece together what was lost to history. Start a cult, end a war, go into teaching. Hells, if you really wanted you could go the classic route, find yourself a cave, amass a hoard greater than the wealth of some nations, and terrorize some poor innocent townsfolk. It’s up to you, Selin."

I have to take a breath after that, preparing my thoughts before continuing.

"But… would you like to know what I would advise?" I ask, and Selin nods. "Take your time. Finish your degree. Make friends and spend time with them. Allow yourself to have normality. Don’t… throw yourself into things, and don’t think that everything has to change simply because you figured yourself out. Time is something you’ll have a lot of, in the long run, so don’t rush it now and miss the opportunities you have just because you’re chasing something greater. You’re young, and you shouldn’t let anything take that away from you. Least of all yourself."

"I can’t just… ignore all this," she says, but in a way that tells me it’s more of a prompt than a counter.

"And I doubt it’d be healthy to, so don’t," I tell her. "But that shouldn’t stop you from living the life that you might have, before all this. That you might still want to, just with a bit more clarity. You might be figuring out what you are, but that doesn’t change who you are."

"Poignant," she says, her voice carrying a soft smile.

"Well, I’ve had a bit of time to reflect on things," I laugh. "Think about what I wish had happened differently. I doubt I’d be a very good teacher if I didn’t feel some desire to share that insight with someone who might need it."

The rest of the afternoon is pleasant, a nice, idyllic picnic in the mountains, the perfect way to wind down at the end of the semester. Ember did a wonderful job with the preparations (overlooking the fact that the cheeky imp decided to bring dragonfruit for an accompaniment), and it seems as though Selin enjoyed herself too. She looks more… settled, perhaps, than she did. Her journey has only just begun, and she clearly knows it, but she also knows more of what it will entail, and maybe she feels a bit more confident in her own ability to complete it. It’s a good look on her.

"It would most likely be a good idea to head back to the academy sometime soon," I say after another long period of quiet enjoyment. "I wouldn’t want to abduct you for so long that the school starts sending out search parties."

"Not unless it turns out I’m somehow a long-lost princess, too," Selin laughs. "Hey. Earlier, you mentioned the point you expected me to be at in three months. Does that mean you have stuff you want me to do over the summer?"

"Ideally," I respond, "we’d be doing a lot over the summer. Truth be told, I haven’t actually done something like this before, as a pretense or not, but, conditional on your interest, I intend to offer you an apprenticeship. It would be significantly more holistic than just studies of a draconian nature, of course, but I think the pretense would also serve as a good opportunity to further your explorations in a setting where privacy is less of a concern. As far as I know, you don’t have any preexisting plans for the break, correct?"

"I, uh, wow, yeah. I mean no, I don’t," Selin stammers. "I… I was just going to stay at home, so I’ll have to talk to my family, but… holy shit yeah that sounds amazing, thank you!"

Well, that seems pretty definitive.

"You’re very welcome," I smile. "I think it will be a good experience for all of us."

"It’ll be nice to be home again for a while," Ember remarks as she begins to clean up.

"Oh goddess, please don’t remind me," I groan. "Having the three of you in one place again is going to be bad enough even if I wasn’t going to be devoting much of my time and attention to teaching Selin."

"We’ll be good, I promise!" Ember chirps with a smile much too puckish for her human face. "Best behavior."

"I don’t believe you for even a second."

"Past performance is not indicative of future results!" she declares. "And besides, would you really deny me this? The city can be so stifling, you know."

"I definitely get that," Selin mutters, pushing herself upright so she can give Ember a hand. "Wait, is that a dragon thing?"

"In all likelihood, yes," I say. "But to be honest, I think it’s a pretty widespread sentiment. In any case, I think you’ll enjoy the estate, even with three fountainheads of mischief running around."

I push myself up as well, climbing to my feet and giving my wings one last good flare and stretch before I fold them up and start the transition back into a more human-standard form. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten a proper flight in, and they ache to be used, but now is not the time, unfortunately. Though, who knows? I might end up needing to teach Selin to fly before the summer’s over, if she makes enough progress. That would certainly be something.

Cleaning up is quick with many hands once again making light work of things, though I think we all are at least a little reluctant to leave. Selin expresses this by falling back onto the flattened patch of wildflowers where the blanket was, sighing with contentment after an initial small gasp from landing.

"Wow this was wonderful," she says. "Thanks again, for… everything."

"You are very welcome, my dear," I tell her. "But stay like that and you’ll stain your clothes."

"Oh please, I’m not an infant, I know how to use prestidigitation," Selin giggles, starting to move her arms and legs like she’s making a snow angel in spring. She seems to be enjoying herself, at least. "And it is so nice out here. I think I’d love to come back sometime, if it’s not too much trouble."

"I’m not the one who isn’t accustomed to teleportation," I smirk. "But yes, it’s one of my favorites for a reason."

She eventually stops with her limbs spread wide, getting in a bit more rest before she has to get up. I don’t have to take such a long time changing back into my human guise, but it’s nice to spend as much time as close to my real body as I can get. Plus, transformation is such an interesting sensation. And it’s only because I save my draconic eyes with their better-than-human perception for last that I spot it. Or, given that there looks to be a few, them.

"Selin," I start, "out of curiosity, how practiced are you with illusion spells?"

"Not very much at all," she answers, looking up at me quizzically. "I know theory, of course, but it always felt kinda weird to use, so I haven’t really used it since second year. Why?"

So, it’s not her doing it as a somewhat odd way of trying things out. Fuck. That’s… is she even trying to do anything? Or is it just happening, somehow? That would be… unimaginable. I kneel down to her left, heedless of dirtying my own clothes, and slip one hand under her elbow, lifting it slightly.

"You might want to brush up," I tell her, gazed locked on her arm. "Goddess above, I thought it was a mole at first. But… here."

I touch the space slightly above her inner elbow with my free hand, then guide her arm upwards for her to see. She brings her arm over her face herself, squinting slightly as she does her best to focus with her eyes currently accustomed to the strong light from the sky. Then, they go wide as she sees what I saw.

Seven tiny scales sit on her arm, arranged in a circle with one in the middle. The little cluster is maybe half the diameter of a ten-cent coin all together, the scales in soft areas like joints always being smaller to allow for greater flexibility, but they’re there, each one a brilliant, rich purple. Perfectly matching the gem I picked out for her, chosen for her favorite color.

"Holy fuck," Selin breathes. "I’m a dragon."

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

almost choosing the king over him in part 12. leaving him against his wishes in 20. trying to kill oscar. agreeing to have kayne wipe his memories. arthur confines him every day in a hundred little ways often without even really realizing but when john gets an opportunity for payback he makes it Fucking Count

i do think it's kind of funny how arthur is absolutely the one who does more overriding or minimizing of john's agency but by god it is NOT for lack of trying on john's part. arthur gets more opportunities for it bc of circumstances, but for the first, like, 4 full seasons, if john does manage to get a choice on his own he's probably gonna immediately be like "let me go see what arthur is begging me for so i can do the exact opposite"

[artsekey]

I'd been seeing videos on Tiktok and Youtube about how younger Gen Z & Gen Alpha were demonstrating low computer literacy & below benchmark reading & writing skills, but-- like with many things on the internet-- I assumed most of what I read and watched was exaggerated. Hell, even if things were as bad as people were saying, it would be at least ~5 years before I started seeing the problem in higher education.

I was very wrong.

Of the many applications I've read this application season, only %6 percent demonstrated would I would consider a college-level mastery of language & grammar. The students writing these applications have been enrolled in university for at least two years, and have taken all fundamental courses. This means they've had classes dedicated to reading, writing, and literature analysis, and yet!

There are sentences I have to read over and over again to discern intent. Circular arguments that offer no actual substance. Errors in spelling and capitalization that spellcheck should've flagged.

At a glance, it's easy to trace this issue back to two things:

The state of education in the United States is abhorrent. Instructors are not paid enough, so schools-- particularly public schools-- take whatever instructors they can find.

COVID. The two year long gap in education, especially in high school, left many students struggling to keep up.

But I think there's a third culprit-- something I mentioned earlier in this post. A lack of computer literacy.

This subject has been covered extensively by multiple news outlets like the Washington Post and Raconteur, but as someone seeing it firsthand I wanted to add my voice to the rising chorus of concerned educators begging you to pay attention.

As the interface we use to engage with technology becomes more user friendly, the knowledge we need to access our files, photos, programs, & data becomes less and less important. Why do I need to know about directories if I can search my files in Windows (are you searching in Windows? Are you sure? Do you know what that bar you're typing into is part of? Where it's looking)? Maybe you don't have any files on your computer at all-- maybe they're on the cloud through OneDrive, or backed up through Google. Some of you reading this may know exactly where and how your files are stored. Many of you probably don't, and that's okay. For most people, being able to access a file in as short a time as possible is what they prioritize.

The problem is, when you as a consumer are only using a tool, you are intrinsically limited by the functions that tool is advertised to have. Worse yet, when the tool fails or is insufficient for what you need, you have no way of working outside of that tool. You'll need to consult an expert, which is usually expensive.

When you as a consumer understand a tool, your options are limitless. You can break it apart and put it back together in just the way you like, or you can identify what parts of the tool you need and search for more accessible or affordable options that focus more on your specific use-case.

The problem-- and to be clear, I do not blame Gen Z & Gen Alpha for what I'm about to outline-- is that this user-friendly interface has fostered a culture that no longer troubleshoots. If something on the computer doesn't work well, it's the computer's fault. It's UI should be more intuitive, and it it's not operating as expected, it's broken. What I'm seeing more and more of is that if something's broken, students stop there. They believe there's nothing they can do. They don't actively seek out solutions, they don't take to Google, they don't hop on Reddit to ask around; they just... stop. The gap in knowledge between where they stand and where they need to be to begin troubleshooting seems to wide and inaccessible (because the fundamental structure of files/directories is unknown to many) that they don't begin.

This isn't demonstrative of a lack of critical thinking, but without the drive to troubleshoot the number of opportunities to develop those critical thinking skills are greatly diminished. How do you communicate an issue to someone online? How do look for specific information? How do you determine whether that information is specifically helpful to you? If it isn't, what part of it is? This process fosters so many skills that I believe are at least partially linked to the ability to read and write effectively, and for so many of my students it feels like a complete non-starter.

We need basic computer classes back in schools. We need typing classes, we need digital media classes, we need classes that talk about computers outside of learning to code. Students need every opportunity to develop critical thinking skills and the ability to self-reflect & self correct, and in an age of misinformation & portable technology, it's more important now than ever.

[samueldays]

In this house, we cheer Musk

Elon Musk is so skilled he makes it look easy to run SpaceX and a majority of the world's orbital lift, and this leads a lot of people to underestimate him. "He doesn't do shit, he just pays the engineers!" critics say. "I could have done the same if I had a billion dollars!" they imagine.

Well, such critics should pay more attention to Blue Origin, which demonstrates that "just" paying the engineers a billion dollars is not enough.

Blue Origin is a spaceflight company founded by billionaire Jeff Bezos in 2000, two years before SpaceX in 2002. Both spent some time laying groundwork and did their first test launches in 2006, the New Shepard and the Falcon 1 respectively.

SpaceX pushed ahead rapidly and first reached orbit in 2008 with the fourth flight of a Falcon 1. Blue Origin was slower, and first reached orbit in 2025 with the New Glenn. In the intervening time, SpaceX had accomplished several hundred orbital flights and increased its launch pace from "per year" to "per week". (130-something Falcon 9 launches in 2024.)

SpaceX also hit several other milestones like supplying the ISS with the Dragon 1 in 2012, first propulsive (vertical) landing of an orbital rocket stage with Falcon 9 in 2015, taking humans to orbit with the Dragon 2 in 2020. On a more abstract but also more practical note, SpaceX's Booster 1051 went from hopeful "it landed and we might reuse it" plans to definite "cycle it back into service, you know the drill" when it was reused for the tenth time in 2021.

Harder to measure is how much SpaceX decreased the cost of launching people and things to orbit for all their customers, but it's somewhere around an order of magnitude thanks to the combination of mass production and rocket reuse, where previous orbital launches tended to be artisanal one-offs. And it's still dropping.

I will return to that 'majority' point: consider the US and Soviet/Russian space program which are the two big ones, and the Chinese and Indian and Japanese and other government space programs too. Add the private competitors, like Orbital Sciences Corporation which put their Pegasus in orbit in 1990 and went on to relative success with several more orbital missions.

SpaceX first reached orbit in 2008, and by 2024 was outdoing all the above put together. This does not happen by simply throwing money at the problem, the Great Powers have far more money to throw at the problem. This was not replicated by competitors. You can tell nobody even got close, for SpaceX to perform a majority.

Blue Origin? eventually got to orbit this year, planning another launch later this year. Orbital Sciences Corporation that I mentioned above? shut down. Space Services Inc.? technically reached space in the sense of the Karman line (100km up) but not orbit, then shut down. Armadillo Aerospace? never made it.

Wealthy and technically competent people like John Carmack (better known for Id Software, Doom) tried to run private spaceflight companies, lost a lot of money and shut down with little to show for it. Most of them are forgotten quickly. Elon Musk has put SpaceX so far ahead of the real alternatives, people lose sight of those and start comparing him to imaginary alternatives.

[haikyu-mp4]

Vexing

Suggestive workplace romance as an athletic trainer with your rival and secret lover Iwaizumi, for my workplace romance event <3

requested by anonymous. word count; 721 – gn!reader

Everyone wants Iwaizumi Hajime (27) athletic trainer. Seemingly everyone but you.

How could you like someone who competed with you constantly while you both studied in California, only to end up in the same line of work but for the opposing team?

As you headed to the Olympic Village gym with some of your volleyball players, you passed by the Japanese team on their way out. You recognised some of them, like Bokuto, whose eyes widened as he looked between you and Iwaizumi, who squinted in your direction like you had spit in his protein shake that morning.

None of them knew why the two of you always had such tension, but they didn’t dare question it further at the risk of getting penalty rounds during training.

You made a face, facing forward and clutching the training file you held closer to your chest. When he passed, you did your hardest not to turn around and check him out, hoping he might turn around for you and find you completely disinterested.

As if you couldn’t walk the road from your assigned room to his with your eyes closed.

You knocked on the door, crossing your arms and making sure that anyone who might happen to pass by would think this was an involuntary visit. In reality, the lust clouding your mind made your body shiver as you hoped he would open this door quickly.

Iwaizumi opened up and you lifted an eyebrow in response to his eyes widening. “This is not a good time-”

“Who is it, Iwa-chan?” a lighter voice said from inside his room before one of your team’s players, Oikawa Tooru, came up behind his best friend. “Oh, hi! I didn’t think I had training tonight.”

While the man you were actually here to see seemed to stay quiet in the face of potentially revealing the only secret he kept from Oikawa, you tilted your head and smiled evilly.

“Didn’t you know me and Iwa-chan studied together? I’m here to compare notes.”

You leaned on the table, Oikawa yapping away across from where you sat next to Iwaizumi, his hand not so innocently placed on your leg under said table.

“I need your opinion on something. Kawa, get up,” you requested, walking around the table to the setter and turning him around. “For his jump serves I wanted to work here, but I’ve been so careful of his bad knee-”

Your hand stroked down the back of Oikawa’s thigh, already knowing the athlete didn’t mind from working together the last couple of months. However, your eyes were set on Iwaizumi.

Skilled in acting quite indifferent, you watched the man for any reactions. Both of you knew the name of that muscle very well, there was no need to demonstrate. Yet here you were, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, Oikawa smirked over his shoulder as if Iwaizumi hadn’t felt your touch before.

He cleared his throat, making you smirk in victory. “I used to help him with that, could send you some notes later.” He looked down again to spare you his attention and waited for you to sit down before explaining how he would approach it.

“You two sure seem close.” Your back was pressed against the bed after Oikawa left, your rival all over you and your shirt somewhere on the floor. Oikawa hurried out after one of the Japanese players asked him to join some party, but you had a sneaking suspicion Iwa had a hand in that request.

“I’m close with all my players. A trust-based relationship with your clients will make your programs more effective, and-” Iwa finally had enough of your attitude, holding his hand over your mouth and tucking his face into your neck, planting lustful kisses that might still be visible by morning.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“You wrote that part,” you argued after prying his hand off your face, only to suck his thumb into your mouth and circle it with your tongue.

Iwa straightened up to look at you with bated breath. “You vex me.”

“Take your clothes off and prove it.”

“You know the drill,” he said with that annoyingly attractive smile, already getting his pants off while you scooted over to adjust the lights.

“Whoever taps out first loses. May the best athletic trainer win.”

masterlist

for the requester: thank you soo much for your kind words! I can't believe I'm your favourite, that's such high praise<33 I hope this was okay!!

[mythauragame]

We're Hiring!

Hey everyone! We’re on the lookout for a Freelance Illustrator.

This is a freelance position to help create illustrated assets. Mythaura assets include creatures, markings & patterns on our bases, characters, and objects like items and apparel. This position is primarily focused around finding an artist to help us draw markings on our beast's various expressions, but may transition to other projects in the future.

We are currently looking for an artist who can fulfill a workload of aproximately 40 hours per month.

Applicants must be 18 years or older.

Responsibilities

Create and deliver PSD files that meet the creative brief.

Work with our senior artists and writers to ensure visual consistency.

Regularly demonstrate and update your work in progress.

Follow creative & technical briefs with regard to schedule.

Accurately quote and then produce work within the quoted timeframe.

Actively participate in an online team environment (currently Discord & Jira).

Required Skills and Experience

Must be able to match Mythaura’s 2D cel-shaded style.

Must be familiar with masks, layers, and templates. Photoshop expertise is a strong plus but not mandatory so long as your program of choice can open and save in PSD format.

Real-world understanding of proportion, depth, scale, and physical space. A strong understanding of coloring and shading, and an accurate understanding of animal anatomy.

Organizational and time-management skills.

Ability to maturely handle critiques and change requests.

Application

To apply, please email admin@mythaura.com with “Freelance Illustrator” in the subject line. Include a link to an updated portfolio of your creative works. Please be sure to include your availability and rate. Previous applicants who have submitted an application in the past may either resubmit their portfolio or simply indicate that they are still interested in a position.

[whirligig-girl]

Reference sheet for Eaurp Guz for ArtFight 2025.

More about Guz: -Tumblr Tag -Guzcomic: AO3 / Tumblr -Surviving Schwil AO3 / Tumblr

STARFLEET COMMAND PERSONNEL DATABASE ACCESS Name: "Eaurp Guz" Full Legal Name: Eaurp Eugigathlia Waralslaupwormn't Guz Date of Birth: Stardate 33013 (2356-January-06 A.D.) Place of Birth: Twin Slime Hall, Southern Gurfluint, United Mellanus, Zwo-Nmu System, Zalda Sector, Alpha Quadrant. Species: Mellanoid Slime Worm Age: 26 Earth Years Height: variable, roughly 1.4 meters. Rank: Lieutenant Junior Grade Division: Operations (Engineering Subdivision) Academy Class: 2379 Assignment: U.S.S. Cerritos NCC-75567 (2380-2382(present)) Previous Assignments: Douglas Station (2379-2380) Honorifics: Lieutenant, Miss, Ma'am. Pronouns (Federation Standard Language): She/Her/Hers/Herself. Sex: N/A. Gender: Woman, Xenogender, Transgender, Female, Girl Parents: Mx. Waral Slaup, Mx. Eurgus Fleud, Dr. "Worm" Zugui   (Bio below the cut)

Bio: Eaurp Guz grew up in the turbulent time immediately following first contact with the United Federation of Planets, during a time when much of the world of Mellanus was struggling to adapt to a new political situation. Her world had united under a single umbrella, and one of the unifying principles was that of a desire to do space exploration on Mellanus' own terms. Guz had always loved machines, and made a hobby out of robotics, model railroading, and model rocketry.  Through the latter, she gained an aerospace scholarship and went to gooniversity at Flugoz, where she became an intern for the United Mellanus Space Program. At the end of the Dominion War, she pivoted, realizing that she would have better career prospects--and accomodations for her neurodivergence and gender--in the futuristic Starfleet than she would on her homeworld. After four years of academy, where she excelled at engineering topics but struggled with other aspects of the curriculum, she graduated as one of only a small handful of Mellanoid Slimes in Starfleet, and an even fewer number of fully trained officers.  After a year working at Douglas Station as part of their maintenance and repair crew, she fell in love with the Cerritos while assisting in its refit after its run-in with the Pakleds towards the end of 2380. During 2380 and early 2381, she served on Delta Shift, but in late 2381 she transitioned to Beta Shift. Due to her original training and upbringing, she is a sublight propulsion systems specialist, and spends most of her time tweaking the impulse engines and maneuvering thruster control system to keep them operating at ideal efficiency and smoothness.  In a report given by Lt. Cmdr. Andy Billups in late 2381, he noted "She is a skilled engineer, but she only seems to want to apply herself to this one specific subfield. She'll make an excellent specialist, but I am not considering a promotion at this time." END REPORT. APPENDIX TO PERSONNEL BIO Since the previous report, Eaurp Guz has been promoted to Lieutenant Junior Grade following a harrowing experience on planet TE-92f, in which she demonstrated a high degree of technical mastery over a wide variety of engineering domains. She has been transferred into an Command and Operations training track to ensure she is better equipped to get herself out of the situations she has proved to be able to get herself into, Starfleet Command having determined that she, quote, "slipped through the cracks, pun intended" of Starfleet Academy's career assignment program. Lt. Guz herself was hesitant to accept the promotion, claiming to prefer such tasks as crawling around in Jeffries Tubes, optimizing impulse engines, and tweaking maneuvering thruster PID controller values. Personal Section: Hobbies: Model rocketry, model starship engineering, railway modelling, holographic aerospace flight simulation, technical artist, amateur astronomy. Sexual orienation: asexual (or possibly demisexual, for a broad definition of 'sexual') Romantic orientation: polyamorous lesbian demiromantic Notable Friends: * Slamtha Uzgoel (Childhood friend, 2368-2376) * Dyani (Academy Roommate 2375-2379) * Marta Martinez (Academy classmate 2376-2379) * Eyluss Iris (Crewmate 2380-) * Lisdolin Kerman (Crewmate 2380-) * Samanthan Rutherford (Crewmate 2380-) * D'vana Tendi (Crewmate and Medical Provider 2380-) * T'lyn (Crewmate 2381-) * Zhandar Ghel (Stranded on Schwil Together 2381) * Doctor Promised Vision (Schwil, 2381) Enemies:  * Slamtha Uzgoel (Syndicate pirate with a grudge 2381-) Love Interests <3: * D'vana Tendi (Guz's crush 2381-2382, Guz's girlfriend following Tendi's return to the Cerritos 2382-) * Slamtha Uzgoel (childhood friends in a QPR 2368-2376, so into Guz it ruined her life 2376-) * Marta Martinez (had a crush on Guz 2375-2379) * Zhandar Ghel (survived a traumatic experience together 2381)

[rabidline]

Shoma Uno Commentary: Worlds 2025 Men's SP

Shoma didn't provide comment to every skate due to Fuji TV airing a compressed version of Worlds on terrestrial broadcast (around 6-8 singles skaters for each discipline?) but a kind fan has transcribed it on X/Twitter so I can run it through machine translation:

Kevin Aymoz (Bird Gerhl):  "As the level of difficulty increases, it's becoming quite challenging to showcase one's personality within a program. However, amidst all that, he managed to take on difficult techniques while still expressing his individuality, delivering a truly remarkable performance. During the performance, and even after it, I believe his charm (Note: Shoma uses the word "kawaii" for charm, meaning cuteness) and personality truly shone through." Transcript

Shun Sato (Ladies in Lavender):  "I believe he must have been incredibly nervous at his first World Championships. Amidst all that, while he may feel he could have done even better, his performance was truly outstanding. When I debuted, I couldn't deliver the kind of performance I wanted, so I deeply admire his dedication, training, and mental strength leading up to today—it's truly remarkable." Transcript

Ilia Malinin (Hope):  "From the middle of the performance, some audience members were already standing, and as someone skating, I imagine it must have felt incredibly uplifting." Transcript (Additional comment for Ilia on Fuji TV Youtube Channel): "It's really not good... He makes quadruple jumps look so easy that viewers stop recognizing them as challenging moves. Honestly, I'm worried about whether he'll cause an "inflation" of standards in the future..." Transcript

Yuma Kagiyama (The Sound of Silence):  "It's truly amazing. I imagine he must have felt immense pressure after that huge ovation for Malinin. Yet, despite that, he demonstrated his skills and showcased the results of his hard work leading up to today, delivering an outstanding performance." Transcript