#about consent and checking in and like. being cautious and careful and Aware of the other party

[altschmerzes]

seen one too many snide posts about this in the last week or so but did you know that if you don't enjoy scenes in smut establishing consent or checking in then you simply don't have to read them and you don't have to go online and whine about how they're Consent Posturing and Purity Culture and Sanitizing Everything and God Just Kill Me Now. like you can have a preference without making it into a three act morality play, which is ironically what you are accusing other people of doing.

the same goes for like, detailed content warnings on fics. or content warnings at all. you can just skip those. they're not a sign of Purity Culture Gone Too Far or Those Damn Puriteens or whatever. you can dislike things without being an asshole about them or implying they're Taking Away What's Good And Correct About Fic Or Creativity.

[csa-survivor-confessions]

?

You've probably answered this before, but do you think a survivor of SA can safely engage in consensual non-consent play without hurting themselves mentally or romanticizing the abuse they suffered? Asking for meeeee, I'd really like to experiment with varying forms of this type of play but I'm wondering how cautious I should be or if there are any precautions I should take?

Hello,

Being cautious is the key word here. We have a general policy that just straight-up saying "do" or "don't" participate in terms of kink is not particularly helpful. Why people are interested in certain sexual activities has a complex place in psychology, sexology and sociology. There is the social context people grow up in, family situations, inborn tendencies/temperament, how people are educated about sex, early experiences around sex and trauma people have been through. Because there are layered reasons people might be interested in something like CNC how one ought to participate in a practice like that is going to be complicated.

What I can say certainly is that extreme caution is a must. In general high caution in participating in something like CNC is hugely important, but even more so for survivors of past sexual violence. Some survivors say that CNC and BDSM in general was healing for them. There are also people who did so and found themselves more re-traumatized and further hurt. Being careful is so so important so that it doesn't cause more pain.

Generally, you must find a partner(s) you trust that will respect your boundaries and check in as you go. I know checking in might not be a typical part of every practice but I think it is something to take into account the trauma history. Make sure the dialogue and communication are fully open and that they are listening.

Make sure you have a good tool kit of coping skills and that you have worked on being connected to your body. Because staying aware of yourself is super important. If you start to feel yourself dissociate, panic, have flashbacks, pain or any other trauma response (any of the stress responses freeze included) please stop the scene. It's incredibly important to not push yourself. Pushing yourself when you feel trauma responses will lead to re-traumatization There should be more along the lines of releasing the traumatic stress not reactivating it and enforcing it.

It could be good to talk to your partner about the way you experience trauma responses so you can make sure you're working with each other. And if they have trauma that might be re-activated you can be helpful and supportive of them.

If you ever feel like you're not being listed to, feel pressured to do something you don't want to do or they ever do something that was not agreed upon do your best to try and leave. I know if this is a relationship important to you getting stuck in an abusive relationship is so common and even more so for survivors of childhood trauma. I know it's hard and you are never at fault for being hurt and abused and not weak if leaving an abusive partnership is hard. But please consider the lines and boundaries you have set up and know being respected even if you are doing a scene surrounding non-consent is so so important.

Do your research. Make sure you are knowledgeable and have an understanding. Try and be aware of how your body feels when reading different aspects that could be involved if there is stress consider if this particular thing is something you might want to do.

Another thing to be aware of if you do this is how you feel afterwards. If you feel are feel disgusted with yourself or your partner, if you are left with more anxiety, if other trauma symptoms seem worse or other painful things take this into account. If it is not something bringing you excitement, pleasure or other good feeling then it might not be worth it.

If you are stuck in a cycle of feeling more hurt then it can become more along the lines of self-harm instead of something you enjoy.

When it comes to romanticization it can be complicated to look at. I think fo housing on the above would be more helpful than dealing with this slightly nebulous concept. I do have personal feelings on the topic but I think making sure you are not being harmed by the practice in more direct traumatic-centered ways than the more cultural space. Do be aware though if you are falling into a place where you are making more excuses for your abuser or dismissing it as good or not really abuse. That I know has happened for some people.

I really hope this is helpful for you.

Be Blessed,

-Admin 2

[cupidsworstcrime]

sorry to out your tags like this, id hate for them to get lost!! and i also have something to say about them lol

non-traumatized people are more than allowed to enjoy harder kinks. like, seriously, why is that such a controversial take? especially when it comes to stuff like CNC (consensual non-consent), people act like you have to have trauma or you’re somehow not allowed to enjoy it. and that’s just… wild.

here’s what bugs me:

1. why the hell do people feel entitled to force others to disclose their trauma histories just to have some consensual, private kink? that’s none of your business. kink isn’t a therapy session you get to gatekeep.

2. sometimes people just want rough sex. like, it’s make believe. it’s roleplay. it’s fantasy. no trauma necessary. not everything has to be an emotional coping mechanism or a deep healing process. sometimes it’s just fun and hot and consensual.

letting people enjoy what they enjoy without policing their backstories is part of respecting kink as a whole. stop making kinkers feel like they have to prove their pain to deserve the things they like. that’s exhausting and unnecessary.

consent, communication, and care—that’s what matters. not your assumptions about why someone likes what they like.

then there’s the nonstop misogynistic “setting women back decades 🙄” shit i keep seeing everywhere and like dude—shut up. seriously. shut. up.

first of all, kinks are fantasies. they’re not policy papers. they’re not blueprints for society. liking a “patriarchy kink” (aka power exchange that looks like old-school gender roles) doesn’t mean you want to erase women’s rights or go back to the 1950s. it means you enjoy a certain dynamic in a safe, consensual space.

second, stop weaponizing feminism as a moral high road to police what other people enjoy sexually. kinky women can be feminists. kinky men can be feminists. people can want whatever power dynamics they want behind closed doors and still be dedicated to equality and respect in the real world.

third, this kind of take is lazy and reductive. you’re oversimplifying complex desires and reducing people’s sexuality to political statements, which is not how kink works. kink is about agency, consent, and exploration—not politics.

so, to everyone throwing this tired “setting women back” crap: learn the difference between fantasy and reality. stop policing other women’s pleasure. and please stop acting like your take is the only “correct” feminist stance.

oh and the rampant ableism that creeps into conversations about kink?? like the second someone mentions they're neurodivergent or mentally ill, suddenly people outside the community start clutching their pearls like “you don’t have the capacity to consent 🥺”

...excuse me???

first of all: consent is nuanced. capacity is contextual. and a diagnosis does not automatically strip someone of their agency. it’s infantilizing. it’s dehumanizing. and it’s literally none of your business.

do you know how exhausting it is to constantly hear “well, i just don’t think people with x disorder should be allowed in kink” like we’re broken little dolls instead of full humans with the right to explore our own bodies and power and desires? like sorry bethany, but being autistic or bipolar doesn’t mean i need a conservator—and it doesn't make me unsafe/dangerous.

and here’s the thing: many of us who are mentally ill or neurodivergent are more cautious, more deliberate, and more self-aware than so-called “normal” people. we live in a world that pathologizes us, so we’re constantly checking and double-checking our actions. our boundaries. our intent. we know how to communicate our needs because we have to.

anyways ill end my rambling here, thanks for cumming to my ted talk.

"rape play / misogyny kink / trauma play / age play / fauxcest is bad and romanticizes real issues!!!" shut UP bethany. we’re consenting adults. we know the difference between fantasy and reality. you being uncomfortable doesn’t make it immoral.

like sorry but you’re not a better person because your kinks are vanilla and you only fuck in missionary to indie playlists. some of us have trauma. some of us have dark fixations. some of us just like fucked up shit because it hits right. and guess what? that doesn’t make us bad. it doesn’t mean we endorse it. it means we’re acting out control, pain, power, shame—safely. consensually. with people we trust.

it’s literally called a kink. a roleplay. a scene. not real. not actual incest. not actual rape. not actual abuse. just two (or more) people pressing on a bruise because it helps them feel something—or reclaim it—or just get off. and that’s okay. that’s fucking okay.

you don’t get to weaponize morality against people who are already managing their own darkness. you don’t get to stand on a pedestal built from your own repression and throw rocks at people healing, exploring, owning their wants. you’re not better than us. you’re just louder. and more annoying.

“but what if a predator sees it and—” okay. what if a predator breathes oxygen? what if a predator eats toast? are we banning that too? stop holding survivors and kinksters responsible for the actions of abusers. blame the fucking abuser. not the people doing safe, consensual shit with their own bodies in their own bedrooms.

grow up. learn the difference between catharsis and endorsement. between fantasy and reality. and stop pretending your comfort zone is the moral high ground.

we’re playing pretend. you’re playing cop. who's actually hurting people here?

[logically-asexual]

Hold me like you mean it

summary:

Logan’s feelings for Virgil and the fact that now Virgil barely notices him are stopping him from getting any work done. Janus offers a way for Logan to cope, by disguising himself into Anxiety. but is this really what Logan needs? and what’s in it for Janus, anyway?

alternatively, an angsty story about rejection, denial, and manipulation.

warnings: (for the whole fic) unrequited love, rejection, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, gaslighting, dependency, dubious consent and non consent for kissing, sad ending, depression (vaguely described), angst in general, nightmares. let me know what else i should add.

Read on AO3

Chapter 2

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words: 1146

before starting: if second-hand embarrassment is too painful for you, you can skip this chapter lol. i struggle with it and writing this was An Experience (but i found it hilarious so). you can check the notes at the end of the post for a quick summary of what happened.

The following day Logan began taking his plan into action. He made sure to be supportive of Virgil’s contributions, while gently reasoning against some of his wildest arguments when it was necessary. He was very careful with his words, trying not to insult the Side in any way, and to remind him subtly that he appreciated him. Logan also tried glancing at Virgil when the more enthusiastic Sides said something amusing, in hopes of Virgil smiling back and sharing an unspoken agreement with him about the others’ unnecessary outbursts. He didn’t fully succeed, for Virgil didn’t explicitly acknowledge any of his attempts. However, he seemed slightly more relaxed around Logan than the previous days, so he marked the day down as positive.

Later, Logan smiled to himself as he waited for the water on the stove to boil. He was preparing tea, as he usually did at this time, to help him start relaxing and get ready for bed. He also made sure to pour water for one extra mug, which he would take to Virgil. If everything went well, Virgil would allow him into his room and they would converse while they drank their tea, but he would be satisfied even if he only accepted it and returned to his isolation.

Now that the water was hot enough, he turned to turn the stove off and poured it into the mugs. As he did, he heard familiarly cautious steps enter the kitchen behind him. He turned around and, as expected, found Virgil standing close to the counter.

“Hello, Virgil,” he said, with a low volume. “How have you been today?”

“Hey.” he replied with a small nod. “I’m alright, thank you.”

Logan believed him, his body language conveyed calm and security. He was slouched over, as usual, but his hoodie was open, his jaw wasn’t clenched and his fingers weren’t fidgeting. Logan couldn’t be sure if this was directly caused by his thoughtful actions earlier, but he considered it to be the most likely cause. After a moment, he remembered what he was doing and told Virgil about the tea, offering him a mug, which he accepted with a smile.

They both enjoyed their drink in comfortable silence. When Logan’s cup was halfway finished, he noticed Virgil had started fidgeting again, but he didn’t mention it, allowing him to voice his concern when he was ready.

Minutes later, Virgil set his mug on the counter and spoke.

“Hey, Lo. I noticed that you’ve been um... nicer... to me than usual. Is there a- a reason in particular?”

Logan felt his heart pick up speed. Did he exaggerate on his gestures? He had thought they were subtle enough, and didn’t expect Virgil to become suspicious of him so soon. He looked around the kitchen as he hurried to find the right words for his answer. He didn’t want to overwhelm the anxious Side, but maybe the best course of action was to tell the truth. At least as much of it as he was comfortable sharing. He carefully put his own mug next to the other, avoiding eye contact with Virgil.

“I have mentioned before that I don’t mind your company. Since you’ve been isolating yourself lately I thought I could remind you of that, and demonstrate that you could reach out to me, if you wanted.”

Logan adjusted his tie nervously as Virgil studied him. “You… really care that much about me?”

“Well, yeah. I-” he interrupted himself when Virgil took a step forward.

“How much?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I hate guessing games, Logan. How much do you care?” Virgil sounded determined as he got closer and closer, cornering Logan into the counter.

“I… well, I consider you a- a friend-” He felt his face warm up as Virgil rested a hand on his cheek.

“Just a friend?” Virgil looked at him with a surprisingly shy expression in his eyes, despite how tall he was standing and how close he was leaning on him.

Logan’s words died on his tongue as their noses touched. Nervousness coulded his thinking, yet he found himself enjoying Virgil’s touch. Logan took a deep breath to calm himself, and met Virgil’s gaze, who held eye contact for a second before looking down at his lips. Virgil leaned impossibly closer, but not enough yet. Logan closed his eyes and tilted his face slightly forward, but before his mouth could meet the other’s, Virgil pulled away.

He opened his eyes and saw Virgil hunched down… laughing? It started small but gradually he stopped trying to contain it, the uncharacteristic loudness unsettling Logan even more.

“Oh, darling, you’re adorable.” He said, trying to catch his breath. “You should have seen your face!”

If Logan had felt warmth on his face earlier, now it was figuratively on fire, as he looked mortified at the other Side. His heart pounded in his chest and his thoughts raced trying to understand what was happening. Things began to make sense when Virgil’s appearance shifted, revealing Deceit behind the disguise.

“Janus?! What the hell are you doing?”

Janus’ cackling had died down to a soft chuckle after changing back, and he kept his wide grin as he replied. “What? Am I not allowed to have fun every once in a while? Everyone is so boring around here.”

Logan crossed his arms and stared at him sternly, waiting for Janus to admit his actual intentions.

“I wanted to prove a point.” He finally confessed. “Because apparently you weren’t aware of your own little crush.”

Logan faltered at Janus’ words, just now processing what he had been about to do before the shocking reveal. Was he really attracted to Virgil that way? No. This didn’t prove anything. Experiments need full control of all independent variables to draw conclusions about their effects on dependent variables, and Virgil being portrayed by another Side added too many possibilities into the situation that could have influenced Logan in unexpected ways. In addition, Logan had never been that close physically to any of the other Sides. Who knows if this faux-Virgil was the cause, or if events would have occurred similarly with any of the others. This wasn’t a valid experiment and it shouldn’t be considered as such.

“This doesn’t prove anything.” He mumbled. “Why do you care so much about this, in any case?”

“I care about you.” Janus said with a playful tone.

“Falsehood. You want something.”

“And what does it matter? You have a problem, and your idea of a solution is frankly pathetic, as if you could gain Anxiety’s trust back with passive gestures in only a few days. You need me, and I am happy to oblige.”

There was a silent pause while Logan hugged himself and avoided looking Janus in the eye. A moment later Janus told him to think about it and left, once again leaving him all alone.

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notes:

summary: logan acted on his plan and was extra kind to virgil. janus disguised as virgil and went to logan to pretend he liked him back, almost kissing him, but before logan could kiss virgil janus revealed himself and made fun of logan (hence the embarrassment). logan still refuses to believe he has a crush on virgil and janus refuses to admit his motive behind wanting to help him.

thank you for reading! <3

[alittlebitgoofy]

if i had my way i would be yours - chapter six (taywhora)

here we are, the final chapter. it's time these girls get their feelings together, it's weird having finished this fic I devoted a lot of time, planning and energy to but all things come to an end, I've got another big taywhora fic in the works so enjoy!!

thanks to @goodemornting for betaing :)) ao3 link

A’whora felt a weight atop her as she awoke.

It was warm, an arm wrapped around her waist comfortably tight. Her tired brain tried to piece together the prior night as she melted under the warmth. Her brain felt like mush, the pleasure of being under another person keeping her too busy to think too hard about it.

But she hadn’t talked to any girls last night, she’d mostly spent time with Tayce. Sure, they’d gotten a bit drunk, but surely she would remember chatting someone up and getting them in her bed.

Wait. Getting drunk with tayce. Her roommate Tayce... Oh. 

Shit. Oh god. Well, It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to—

But it was so soon. She was Tayce’s first experience with a woman. She’d offered to, gleeful at the opportunity while cautious about not wanting to take advantage of her. She didn’t take advantage of her, they were two consenting adult roommates who happened to hook up. It came back to her quickly, now. How Tayce had kissed her. The way Tayce had cuddled up to her after, a warm mix of giddy and tired. Maybe this wasn’t so bad? She’d only be able to tell when Tayce woke up. A’whora finally glanced at her phone to check the time. 9 A.M. The fatigue in her body reminded her she had only gotten to sleep around 3, letting Tayce’s soft breathing lull her back to sleep. She’d deal with all this after a little more rest. It wouldn’t hurt to enjoy it for just a bit longer.  Tayce’s reaction was a lot less calm. She felt someone’s presence next to her as she stirred awake, failing to remember a thing before she opened her eyes to see A’whora with her arms wrapped around her waist. It was warm, almost suffocatingly so. The realisation that any movement would likely wake the blonde up dawned on her. Either Tayce would carefully wriggle out of her arms and risk waking her up or stew in the position and wait until A’whora woke up. Either way, they’d have to address this, and she didn’t know if she was ready to. Part of her was freaking out, how could they have gotten into this position? Would she regret it? This was her best friend, who she spent the better parts of all her days with. Tayce knew that if A’whora went cold on her again, she wouldn’t be able to cope for long.

But A’whora was next to her, asleep but still cuddled up with her. She would probably just make a dirty comment and shrug it off, right?. Though her mind screamed in what could happen the other half of her senses melted into the embrace of her companion. Her mind couldn’t help but stop racing while being engulfed in her companion’s embrace. A’whora had shown so much affection the previous night it was hard not to.  “Tayce?” A’whora’s eyes cracked open blearily, tilting her head in tired confusion. A dopey smile grew on her face as she noticed the position they were in. She looked beyond silly like that, but it still made Tayce’s heart skip a beat. “Morning to you, too.” 

Tayce shook her head at the laugh A’whora let out. She was clearly aware of everything that had happened, just plainly unaffected by it. Tayce envied the ease she took this with, her brain and heart conflicting with every action she made. “We fucked, huh?” “Yeah, we did,” Tayce spluttered at the forwardness, feeling her cheeks heat up. Of course A’whora would have no problem talking about the sex she’d had with her roommate the night prior. The blonde didn’t seem phased by her reaction, pulling her arms tighter around her body and bringing herself into Tayce’s side. “You’re warm.” Her words were followed by a content sigh, A’whora looking blissful as Tayce returned the affection, her arms looping around the smaller woman to pull her in tight as she could. “You’re such a softie.” Tayce tried to sound jokingly insulting, but any power to her words fizzled out as soon as she felt A’whora’s head on her chest. She melted into speaking loving words, holding the girl that caused her so much heartache like nothing had happened, as if it was second nature. They stayed locked together, the outside world not a concern in the embrace of one another. Though Tayce eventually shifted, her stomach roared with a ferocity that sent A’whora spiralling into a fit of hiccuping laughter. “Do you want beans on toast?” A’whora settled down enough to speak, a smirk still playing at her lips at the interruption of their moment. 

“Depends how you make them.” “Like you taught me. The ketchup, the cheese, the salt and the pepper and the butter.” The blonde laughed; Tayce was so specific about how she made her beans on toast. There was a method to it, she’d taught it to A’whora the instant they moved in together and made her come to love the breakfast almost as much as she did. “You’ve learnt well.” Tayce patted her on the back like a proud parent, before sliding herself out of the bed to follow A’whora into their kitchen. She missed the warmth of it. But the idea of food was more than enough to coax her out. --- There was something heart-warmingly domestic about making your roommate breakfast, the meaning changed dramatically with whatever was going on between her and Tayce, but A’whora tried to keep her thoughts up.Tayce was still around, she hadn’t freaked out and ran so it could be worse.

Tayce was too busy entrapped in her thoughts to spare the blonde much more than a sideways glance. Her thoughts were buzzing even as she was trying to silence them. It was a mix of things, fear for whatever this could mean or couldn’t mean but also comfort, she’d been with someone she trusted with her life and she’d not made it awkward. A’whora’s affectionate side was a welcomed addition, the way she’d cuddled up to Tayce left her feeling lighter than ever. The way her eyes crinkled as she laughed at whatever dumb comment Tayce has made was euphoric.

God damn, she was in deep. 

She somehow managed to look attractive, sat there with her hair messy in one of Tayce's baggy shirts she’d flung to attempt to cover herself, preoccupied with shoving beans in her mouth after she’d served them both breakfast. Tayce tried to focus on eating her own, though her eyes never quite left the blonde. Something about her was magnetic. She couldn’t help but look at her and feel her heart squeeze with how much she adored her. 

“You just gonna stare at me or are you gonna eat? Your food is getting cold!” A’whora pouted slightly at the lack of attention Tayce was giving her food. God, Tayce wanted to kiss that pout off her. 

“Hmm? You should be taking it as a compliment, I never normally put someone above my beans.” “Wow, she thinks I'm better than beans on toast. How romantic.”  A’whora scoffed, she knew that it was some kind of warped compliment, something Tayce didn’t want to actually say but imply through something humorous to shelter the realisation of the true meanings of her words. Though she did get it, Tayce held her highly, over most people even. It made her hopeful, maybe they stood a chance if she cared that deeply?  They ate with a few more quips, the atmosphere too easy for what they’d done the night prior. A’whora was thankful for the lack of awkwardness though her roommate was the other end of the spectrum. She had far too many thoughts and had to spill them to someone, maybe it would be good to give Bimini a call? 

God, this was a lot to deal with.

--- 

“Bim? I need help, asap.” Tayce rushed out as her friend answered the phone, more than ready to spill everything to someone. She felt like A’whora, unable to keep any secrets without telling at least one person. Oh god, A’whora was going to tell someone. “You two didn’t get into a fight again, did you?” Bimini asked cautiously, not ready to deal with that trainwreck again. At least Tayce was more likely to admit her own fault but trying to reason with her would take too much energy.  “No! The, uh, opposite actually.” The hesitation in her voice was way too obvious, the vulnerability threw Tayce through a loop. At least she knew Bimini wouldn’t bring it up to anyone. “You two fucked? Finally.” Bimini laughed down the line, it felt like inevitably they’d hook up especially after Tayce came out. The way they looked at each other? Nothing platonic about that, in Bimini’s humble opinion “Yeah, what the fuck do I do?” Tayce sighed, putting her phone to the side as she put her head in her hands. Why was this so complicated? All these feelings, it was so much to deal with. “Have you two talked about it? How’s she acting?” “She’s been pretty good, nothing odd, I guess. We haven’t talked about it really, just acknowledged it happened and then she made breakfast.” “Wait, she made you breakfast?” Bimini paused, Tayce could hear the cogs whirring in their brain. Tayce narrowed her eyes, trying and failing to figure out what she meant. 

“Does that... mean something?” She hesitated. Surely it couldn’t be that important. Making breakfast for someone wasn’t that deep. “She’s showing you how much she loves you!” “It’s not that deep, I was just hungry,” Tayce laughed, the idea was absolutely ludicrous. She’d just acted on Tayce’s stomach growling, like any sane human being would.

“It’s A’whora, her love language is gifts and acts of service, y’know. She adores you and does things for you to show it, you know she does.” Bimini followed up, knowing Tayce was silently admitting defeat when she didn’t answer. As much as she didn’t believe it, it made sense. She’d offered to buy food when she messed up, often doing things if Tayce was tired. She’d always chalked it up to A’whora being a bit dramatic, but it made a little too much sense to just be a coincidence anymore. “God, what… what the fuck do I even do in this situation?” Tayce sighed, groaning at the amount of things this could all mean and how she should approach it. Who could even make sense of these things? It was a nightmare. “I’d say talk to her but you avoided that last time.” “I can’t just tell her, what if it makes things awkward?” Tayce spoke softly, unsure of what could happen and too afraid to take a huge step. All she wanted was A’whora but she couldn’t risk losing her after what had happened last time.

Bimini paused, hearing Tayce so hesitant was strange. 

“This is why it took you 22 years to consider you were into women, isn’t it? You’re useless with girls.” Asttina chimed in, jumping out of nowhere to surprise both Tayce and Bimini. “Asttina! She’s going through a lot to cut her some slack.” “She needs to hear the truth, you need to talk to her or this is just going to become more of a mess.” Asttina sighed, Tayce didn’t want to admit she was right but she knew. They’d talked it out last time and it went smoothly, A’whora wouldn’t just turn cold on her if they were having a discussion. Her shoulders slumped in a small bit of relief, hoping that it wouldn’t be so scary, perhaps.

She could end up with the person that she wanted, the one no one could ever compare to. 

Maybe that was worth the risk? “Alright, you have a point. I’ll talk to her. What’s the worst that could happen? We’ve already fucked, there’s not more to it.” --- A’whora knew something was up with Tayce.

She was too in her head about anything to do with feelings, especially in the wake of her recent realisations and just attempting to converse with A’whora. The way they had acted last night would set her right off. She needed a second opinion, though she suspected Tayce was calling Bimini or Asttina out of panic again. The duty thus fell to Ellie, she knew how to keep her friend's mouth shut.

“Hey bitch, what’s up?” “I fucked Tayce.” A’whora got straight to the point. Ellie spluttered a laugh, her cackles crackling through the phone speaker. 

“You two shagged? Fucking finally, we’ve all been waiting.” A’whora huffed, unimpressed by the reminder of the constant jabs about sexual tension between her and her roommate. It wasn’t like she was unaware of everything, but it was mostly her profound ability to repress her feelings and Tayce being so affectionate, at least she thought it was before all of this. “Yes, but you can’t tell anyone,” She paused,  “Especially not Lawrence.” “Why not? She’ll hear about it anyway, God knows you can’t keep secrets for shit.” Ellie huffed back. The pair of them were horrible at keeping things from people, Ellie almost always ended up spilling things to Lawrence  when she had the chance. “Not the point, how did this happen?”

“We were tipsy and everyone else had partnered off, you were too busy making out with Lawrence, and Bim and Asttina were uncomfortably close to going at it. We went home and things escalated and she... ended up in my bed naked.”

“Do you make a habit of hooking up with your friends?” “No, only the tall ones. Which is exactly why you won’t tell Lawrence. She doesn’t need to know about what we did that time—“ 

“No one needs to know.” Ellie interrupted, desperately trying to steer the conversation away.She knew bringing it up would be the best way to buy Ellie’s silence. They’d never told anyone about that night and planned to keep it that way, alcohol did a lot to a person and almost shagging your friend is one of them. 

“Anyway, she’s a bit.. off now, I guess. Not bad or anything but she just seemed to be processing everything very slowly. How do you deal with that?” A’whora questioned, exasperated. Tayce was always a bit of an enigma, it made navigating everything needlessly difficult but she didn’t blame her. It was a lot to deal with realising your own sexuality and coming to terms with it, she had every reason to be shaken at anything happening between them. “You deal with it by not crushing on the most emotionally unavailable person you know.” A’whora wanted to get defensive— Tayce wasn’t emotionally unavailable, she was just.. complex. She wasn’t one to be super outward with things, she liked to keep to herself when something was bothering her and not make a big deal of it. Though it served no help to the current predicament, only to show how whipped she was for Tayce. 

“No, you torture your friends seeing you pine for years when it’s clear that you both love each other.” “I know you mean me and Loz but that’s you and Tayce, hen.” Ellie laughed, anyone with eyes could see they were a little closer than most friends. It was cute at first but neither of them acted on anything and one of them not realising her feelings until recently made it painful to watch. “She’s not in love with me!” The blonde huffed,  “I would’ve known by now if she was.”

“She’s in love with you you’re just too dumb to see it.” Even Ellie saw it, the way Tayce looked and acted around A’whora was way more loving and tender than she’d ever been with any of her friends. It was like she was the only person to exist, everything in the world that Tayce loved rolled into one person.

It would have been cute if it wasn’t so painful to watch her not realise her own feelings. “Like you were with Lawrence?” “Yes but I have a girlfriend, now go get your welsh hound.”

---

“Aurora?” Tayce poked her head round the door to her room, visibly nervous. 

Oh god. Real name, Tayce looked awkward, shit was about to hit the fan. 

“Come in, what’s bothering you.” Tayce settled next to the blonde on her bed, her nerves were clear as day from her body language. The way her eyes darted to anything other than A’whora, her finger restlessly tapping her leg. She looked uncomfortable, though there was a determination pushing her though it. The way she sat up so straight like she had something to do, no matter how much it ate her up inside.

“Nothing. I mean, it’s not bothering me, I just want to talk.”There was the usual denial, Tayce knew it wouldn’t fool A’whora, it rarely did and she couldn’t fake it at the minute, not with everything on her mind “I know what you mean but saying it like that is very unnerving” A’whora laughed nervously, she wasn’t the anxious one but the way Tayce was acting made her hesitate. “It’s okay, I'm not going to kill you.” Tayce eased the tension with a joke, delighting in how A’whora smiled at the joke, wide enough for her dimples to show.  “Alright come on talk to me then.” “I think i’m in love with you” Tayce blurted, mouth moving too fast for her mind to catch up. 

Oh.

Oh. 

That was. Sudden, Tayce felt frozen, A’whora’s eyes trained on her. What did she do? No lead up, just said it. It wasn’t that hard but she shouldn’t have said it. The shock was written all over her face, it made Tayces stomach twist, a sinking feeling engulfing her as the worst case scenario seemed to come to life. 

“You’re in love with me?” A’whora echoed, her voice soft with some emotion Tayce couldn’t catch on to, something meant to be comforting, hopefully.

She couldn’t reply, any words caught in her throat, fizzled out by the time she opened her mouth. What was she meant to say? She just said the scariest words she could’ve ever thought of saying. Her heart ached for her best friend in a way she never considered possible until a few weeks ago. 

“Tayce…” A’whora trailed off, Tayce’s stomach churning more by the second. 

She couldn’t make eye contact fearing what she might see on her face. She felt movement, A’whora coming closer to her. Was she trying to console her? Then she felt her face gently lifted up to meet A’whora’s eyes. Something shifted in her expression as she saw Tayce’s meekness, soft smile lighting up her features in a way that made Tayce’s heart flutter. She didn’t hold back, pulling her into a passionate kiss. 

Tayce regained herself, kissing back as she felt A’whora melt into her. She felt more confident, taking the lead, her hand running through the blonde hair as her roommate moved closer, taking place in her lap. 

They broke apart, a goofy grin growing on A’whora’s face as she stared at Tayce, eyes shining in wonder. 

“I’ve been in love with you for years.” she murmured, feeling euphoric after the progression of events. Tayce cocked her head in puzzlement. 

“Years?” “Years. How could I not? You’re gorgeous and the most positive energy I've ever met. Nothing is ever boring with you, there’s always something going on or that you can make interesting. There’s something magnetic about you, I can't leave you alone. We clicked so well, no one ever got me as well as you did and I think about how lucky I am we even became friends, Tayce.” “You’re such a hound.” Tayce laughed, visibly taken aback. She didn’t know how to react, that was a lot to process all at once but it made her feel on top of the world. The euphoria rushed through her, a grin growing larger on her face by the minute.

“Is that your way of saying you love me?” A’whora knew what she was trying to communicate, her face saying it all, she looked happier than she’d ever seen, apart from the time she’d bought her a personalised tin of baked beans, that was one of the few times Tayce had cried in front of her. 

“It is, you’re a hound but you’re my hound.” The brunette wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into her lap to cuddle into her back.  “Oh? Your hound? Sounds decent, I'll take it.” The wamrht in A’whora’s tone contrasted from her words, turning around to pull Tayce into another kiss. She knew this was going to be complicated, nothing was ever easy between the two of them but with enough communication it would work, they cared too much about each other to not try.  Maybe this whole mess had been worth it, cuddled in Tayce’s arms like nothing else mattered, just the two of them against the world like it always had been.

[bot-imagines]

Imagine the Decepticons having a S/O who’s hosting a Symbiote

Megatron

When he first learns that his S/O is hosting a symbiote, he’s concerned. Surely his S/O is suffering and needs his help to remove this vicious parasite! He’s confused and rather annoyed when his S/O assures him that no, they aren’t suffering and no, they won’t try to seperate.

He’s very cautious around his S/O after learning that it’s not just the two of them anymore. Afterall, he agreed to be with S/O, not this slimy thing that’s latched itself to them. He may try to act normal for his S/O’s sake, but he just can’t fully relax knowing that the symbiote is witnessing his lowered defenses.

He and the symbiote don’t get along. Like, at all. The symbiote is constantly telling S/O how much they can’t stand Megatron, and the feeling is quite mutual. The only thing that these two can ever agree on is keeping S/O safe. Megatron doesn’t appreciate just how close his S/O and the symbiote are (it’s literally inside of them all the time), but he knows that he could never force them to separate.

Once he and the symbiote come to an understanding, Megatron is all for letting his S/O do more to help the Decepticons. Despite his distaste for who the symbiote chose as a host, they are still a valuable asset that he’d be crazy not to use.

Starscream

He’s absolutely disgusted when he first sees the symbiote. He’s certain that his S/O is an unwilling host, and vows to free them. It takes a lot of time and talking from both S/O and the symbiote before Starscream stopped freaking out. 

What do you mean you want to be attached to that thing?!

He’s super paranoid at first. He’s sure that the symbiote is mocking him whenever he and his S/O are together, or that the symbiote is acting like a spy for his enemies. He can’t relax around his S/O anymore, and it puts a strain on their relationship. It’s not until he has a conversation with the symbiote while his S/O is asleep that he starts to understand that the symbiote isn’t out to get him.

Once the paranoia is past, Starscream is still wary, but more annoyed than anything. He’s possessive af, so he wants S/O’s attention all the time.

He’s adamant that his S/O doesn’t need to fight. He doesn’t care how many times they tell him they can handle themselves - he won’t let them do it. He’s worried that they’ll get distracted talking to the symbiote or the symbiote will take over and make them do something they don’t want to.

Soundwave

He suspected something was up with his S/O for a while now. He’s very observant, so don’t be surprised if he actually figures it out before they tell him. He’s definitely worried, but he isn’t going to do anything rash. He’ll calmly ask his S/O if they wish to separate from the symbiote, and when they tell him no (and he senses they’re not being manipulated), he’ll accept it.

He’s curious, but he does his best to be discreet about it. He watches his S/O a lot closer now, looking for any signs that they’re uncomfortable or just to see how they interact with the symbiote.

He’s indifferent towards the symbiote. As long as they don’t hurt his S/O or make them do something against their will, he’s fine. If he’s ever annoyed with the symbiote for any reason, he may play something that irritates them. He risks hurting his S/O though, so he rarely does it.

He isn’t too keen on his S/O fighting, but he isn’t going to try and stop them. The symbiote has assured him on multiple occasions that they will protect S/O, but he still worries. He just wants his S/O to feel safe.

Knock Out

He actually lets out a shriek the first time he sees the symbiote. He picks up something heavy to hit it, but stops when his S/O quickly diffuses the situation, assuring him that the symbiote is perfectly fine. He can’t seem to wrap his processor around the fact that his S/O is happy to play host to this slimy little parasite.

He’s definitely taking this from a medical perspective. Parasites are never a good thing - no matter how nice they might be at conversation, S/O. He doesn’t care that it offends the symbiote to be referred to as such. He’s secretly coming up with a way to remove the symbiote so that he’s ready if they ever try anything with his S/O.

He and the symbiote compete a lot. Mostly trading sass, which is rather difficult at times with S/O constantly playing the middleman. They constantly compare who’s treats S/O better and who is a worse influence on them. He doesn’t like to touch his S/O when the symbiote is encasing them in the suit. If the symbiote ever tries to suit up while S/O is riding in Knock Out’s cabin, he’ll screech to a stop and push them out. 

He loves his S/O, but he’s not entertaining the symbiote’s desire to ruin his interior leather.

Breakdown

He’s creeped out. Like really creeped out. Like, don’t touch me creeped out. He’ll calm down once his S/O explains the situation. He’ll bring them to Knock Out to check out that they are in fact alright. He doesn’t really get the whole ‘constantly talking in their head’ thing, but he understands that the symbiote and his S/O have a special kind of bond. 

He’s probably the quickest out of everyone to accept the symbiote and his S/O as a package deal. He’s got questions, but he isn’t going to try and demean their bond. He knows how that feels. People give him and Knock Out grief about their partnership all the time.

The symbiote starts coming out more to speak to Breakdown directly. They both have an appreciation for breaking things, which they bond over quickly. Breakdown also likes the symbiote’s sense of humor, as weird as that may sound. 

He actually is rather eager to see his S/O in battle. He’s really curious to see just what they’re able to do together. 

Airachnid

She doesn’t take the news that there’s a symbiote well at all. She’s angry at both her S/O and the symbiote - her S/O for accepting them, and the symbiote for daring to use her S/O as a host. She wants to rip the thing out of them and add it to her list of trophies. But then again, that won’t make her S/O very happy, so she’ll put up with it. For now.

She’s quietly learning everything she can about the symbiote, so that when she strikes, she’ll be ready. She no longer refers to her S/O as one person, and her S/O isn’t sure how to take that. She’s on high alert, and the longer her S/O is hosting the symbiote, the more she wants it out of them. 

The symbiote is also on high-alert. Not just because Airachnid doesn’t like them, but because they are constantly worried about S/O. They can’t possibly be safe with someone like her.

It’s a bad time for everyone, really.

Shockwave

He’s quite fascinated when he learns that his S/O is hosting a symbiote. He’s heard of this species before, but this is his first time coming into close contact with one. He’s almost eager; it’s really weird for his S/O.

He wants to run tests on the symbiote, which immediately makes them paranoid. His S/O has to spend a long time explaining why they can’t let him use them as a lab rat. It takes a lot of convincing, but he’ll concede eventually.

He’s still going to observe and write down a ton of notes. Like a lot.

The symbiote is uneasy around him, but will become more comfortable as time goes by. They will answer very basic questions sometimes if they’re in a good mood, but they refuse to talk about certain things, like where their home planet is, or how to remove them from their host.

He definitely wants to see his S/O in battle, but he’s slightly concerned they’ll get hurt. He doesn’t want them to risk hurting the symbiote!

Dreadwing

He’s rather upset at first. He’s convinced that his S/O is under the symbiote’s thrall, and vows to separate them in order to save his S/O. It isn’t easy to convince him that they are in fact completely aware of what they’re doing and consent to being a host. He’s moody after that. He feels like his S/O has betrayed him in a way. 

It’s going to take a while for things to die down. Dreadwing just isn’t comfortable with the knowledge that his S/O is bonded to another being. He almost wishes they hadn’t told him.

After he has a talk with the symbiote - probably while S/O is asleep - he comes to an understanding with them. He won’t try to separate them if the symbiote agrees to not manipulate his S/O. His biggest concern is that his S/O’s actions are no longer their own.

He’s hesitant to let his S/O fight, but if Megatron wants them to, he’ll have no choice but to comply. He won’t like it though.

Predaking

He’s super possessive and really pissed off when he learns that the symbiote is there. He remembers what it was like to be a servant who had no real say in what he did - he doesn’t want that for his S/O. He’s still quite stubborn about the whole thing, even after his S/O explains everything.

He just can’t believe that his S/O would choose to have a parasite attached to them. He’s worried for his S/O’s safety all the time now.

He never warms up to symbiote, no matter how much his S/O wishes he would. He refuses to become friends with a parasite squatting in the one person he cares the most about.

[nicostolemybones]

Hey, I got a prompt for you. Demigod Truth Or Dare.

I decided the opportunity for angst was irresistible, so I hope you don’t mind that :/ 

tw: homophobia

The Truth Won’t Out Willingly

“Truth or dare?”

Nico swallowed thickly. He just knew this was going to end badly, of course he did. Especially based on the smirk on the son of Eros’s face as he asked. He wasn’t going to risk a dare. He could already see the way the boy’s eyes raked down his body like he was a piece of meat, and flickered to the eyes of the other boys and back to Nico. Nico just knew he’d dare him to kiss one of them, and Nico did not want to be outed, humiliated like that. He was not a performance for the entertainment of others. “Truth,” Nico replied in a measured voice. There was a pause whilst the son of Eros leaned back, a dangerous smirk crossing his lips. He looked at Nico like Nico was weak, like he could feel the fear radiating. Nico supposed the death aura currently killing the strawberry plants in the field might have been giving it away. Nico picked at a strand of dead grass, angrily throwing it and accidentally summoning a crow skull, which landed across the circle at Annabeth. What terrible fucking irony, Nico scowled. The son of Eros gave an amused hum. 

“Which girl did you last have a crush on, di Angelo. And remember, liars forfeit.” Nico refused to be trapped by that. He had a lie, and he’d been bold enough to tell it to Cupid, convincing enough that Annabeth had even believed it herself at one point. 

“Annabeth,” Nico replied, making direct eye contact. The son of Eros snorted a laugh that attracted the attention of the other players, who began looking wearily at Nico, like some of them suspected him. 

“Really?”

“One question at a time,” Jason interrupted, and Nico scowled at him. He didn’t want Jason to fight battles he was capable of fighting himself.

“Yes, really,” Nico replied, hyper aware of the tension in his voice. He cleared his throat, waving his arm casually in Annabeth’s direction, grateful for the puce tinge his embarrassment had given him. “I like blondes.” Nico chanced a glance around the circle, to Annabeth first. She didn’t look uncomfortable, although she gave Nico a lopsided sympathetic smile, because she knew what was going on, but as she took Percy’s hand, it could easily be interpreted as a smile of apology. He looked to Jason, scared he’d see uncomfortableness on his face, but Jason looked no more uncomfortable by the revelation of Nico’s type than he did when Percy talked about Annabeth. Good, he thought to himself, he had allies he could trust. He looked to Percy, who was deep in thought as he looked around the weary faces, like he was finally realising why Nico felt the need to tell him that he wasn’t his type. Because Nico just knew that revealing his sexuality made people uncomfortable, made people fear his company, like he was a predator. Percy seemed to finally understand that it was never about Nico getting one over on him, but rather Nico protecting himself from the pervert label homophobes liked to slap on him. Percy looked like he finally understood, and he gave Nico a sad smile. Nico didn’t want pity, he didn’t want to be looked at like a kid who just lost his puppy, or like a kid who was sick. He was gay, not sick. He knew it was supposed to be sympathy, but Nico didn’t want to have to face the uncomfortableness of people’s sympathy. Sympathy was for death cards, with deepest symathy, and Nico hadn’t lost someone, wasn’t dead, he was gay. 

“Truth or dare,” Nico eventually asked Piper, who picked dare. Of course she did, and Leo leaned over to whisper in Nico’s ear, giggling. 

“Please make her dump a bucket of ice water over Jason,” Leo wheezed, and Nico smirked, looking to Piper, and then to Jason. Jason’s face resembled a clear thought of oh no, then Nico crossed the circle to Piper, and whispered in her ear. Piper giggled and snorted, running off to go and get the ice bucket. Leo was wheezing with laughter when Nico sat back down, leaning on Nico’s shoulder with his elbow for stability. Nico wondered if Leo would still feel so comfortable if he knew Nico’s secret, or if he’d suddenly change his view of platonic intimacy with other guys to exclude Nico out of the arrogant assumption that Nico would want every boy he ever laid eyes on. Nico felt paranoid, but he knew he had a valid reason for being so cautious and worried, because he had no idea if the people who called themselves his friends- if they even did- would change how they behaved around him like he was contagious. Nico felt anxiety twisting in his gut, and by the time Piper had dumped a bucket of ice water on Jason, who had promptly sparked up and mildly electrocuted himself, Nico couldn’t focus on the game anymore. All he could think about in his head was all the words he wished he’d said, all the words he wanted to say, but was afraid to say out of fear his experiences would become a discourse on his basic human rights. Nico didn’t have the energy to want to engage in something so toxic to himself. He’d hated himself enough, and he wasn’t ready to have others validate that hate.

Which is why Nico didn’t snap out of his thoughts until he heard a nervous laugh from Will. “Haha, what?”

“Kiss di Angelo,” the son of Eros said, and Nico scowled. He knew shadows were pooling, but he didn’t care. 

“I don’t consent to a kiss,” Will announced calmly, to which Nico heard a son of Ares use a slur to unnecessarily butt in his input of how he didn’t wanna see that. Nico was about to say something when Clarisse gave him a hard slap. 

“If you forfeit, the forefeit is you have to tell everyone your little secret. Or does my father have to pay you a little visit?” Oh. Oh hell no. Oh hell no Cupid wasn’t going to be bothering Will. 

“I’m not telling anyone anything,” Will said firmly, and the son of Eros laughed coldly. 

“Then kiss di Angelo.”

“I already said, I don’t consent to-”

“Then should I tell everyone you’re a dirty little f-”

“You dare use that word,” Nico interrupted in a quiet warning tone, “you dare call him that word and I’ll fucking kill you. And if you dare force him to kiss anybody, I will personally see to it that you’ll find a rotting decapitated head in your bed tonight.”

“Holy shit,” Clarisse muttered, giving Nico an impressed glance.

“I’m merely having a little fun,” the son of Ares said, standing up. Nico was about to speak, but Will stood up too, fists balled at his side and face furiously pink. 

“It’s not fun for me!”

“Oh boo-hoo(!)”

“You’re being a bully!” Will wasn’t going to back down, and Nico had seen what Eros was capable of. He wasn’t going to let Will go through that, so he stood, and he stood by Will’s side. He didn’t say anything- it wasn’t his battle to fight. But he wanted Will to know that he was on his side, always. The Ares camper from before stood by the son of Eros, and suddenly the situation felt dangerous. Nico was prepared to have his head kicked in to protect Will from the gay bashing he knew was about to come. Jason stood, joining Nico and Will, then Percy, Annabeth, Piper, Leo, Clarisse, Reyna, Hazel, Frank, Calypso, Grover, Austin, Kayla, Drew, Katie, Travis, Connor, Cecil, Lou-Ellen- and Nico felt empowered. He would not be afraid and hide in the shadows. 

“Got a problem?” Nico asked, smirking.

“Perverts,” the son of Eros spat. 

“You’re the one trying to force Will to kiss me without his consent, not me. You’re the pervert,” Nico pointed out. 

“Now leave,” Will commanded, and the son of Eros and the son of Ares looked at the crowd of supporters, and walked away without a word. Nico laughed coldly, bitterly, because whether he liked it or not, the truth was probably out there now. Of course they all knew. 

“What was that about,” Hazel asked, shaking her head, although her question was more in disbelief at the confrontation.

“I’m gay,” Nico announced emotionlessly, “deal with it.” There was stony silence for a while.

“So,” Leo began, and Nico prepared for a stupid joke, “any particular blondes?” Was he seriously asking this? Was he seriously asking if Nico had a crush after that confrontation? Nico checked his anger- Leo meant to break the ice and show his support, and Nico knew that. As much as it was terrible timing, and crossed his boundaries, Nico knew he hadn’t communicated his boundaries, and Leo clearly meant nothing but support. There was no malice, so Nico took a few calm, long breaths. 

“I don’t feel like talking about it,” Nico replied, and Leo nodded, putting an arm around his shoulder. 

“And you don’t have to man, but you don’t have to keep it all inside either.” Nico felt warmed by the gesture- Leo had put his arm around him, comfortably so, and it meant the world to Nico that he wasn’t going to be treated any differently than usual. 

“Are you okay, Will,” Nico asked carefully, and Will nodded. 

“Just a little shaken up.”

“Understandable,” Nico replied, “that was scary, huh?”

“I’d rather operate on a cardiac tamponade in a dirty lift with nothing but a capri-sun straw,” Will announced, huffing a soundless laugh and glowing softly, “but I’m grateful for all the support.”

“I’ve no idea what that means,” Percy interjected, “but I’m suddenly doubting your qualifications to run the infirmary, Will.”

“Oh, I have none,” Will replied with a laugh and an exaggerated smile. 

“Are you a quack or a barber surgeon?” Nico quipped, and Drew snickered.

“Oh honey, he’s definitely a quack, he can’t cut hair for toffee.”

“That was one time,” Will huffed, pouting in jest. 

“It was a bowl cut, sweetie,” Drew replied, and Nico snickered.

“You had a bowl cut?” Nico interrupted. 

“It was a long time ago!” Will defended. 

“It was last month,” Lou-Ellen laughed, “literally just before you met,” she clarified for Nico.

“Meanies,” Will pouted, “I looked cute.”

“If you say so,” Nico laughed, and Will hiccupped a light butterfly. Nico found himself fighting the skeletal butterflies resurrecting in his stomach in favour of a smile and a blush he couldn’t fight down. “Are we gonna tell ‘em?” 

“Nah,” Will grinned impishly, “they can figure it out for themselves. For now, truth or dare now the trash got taken out?”

“Sure,” Nico smiled, looking back at his secret boyfriend.

[tinyshe]

Why you should worry if you have a Chinese smartphone

China’s use of technology for social control of its citizens is extensive – but it could affect users elsewhere too, says security analyst Samantha Hoffman

Chinese firms have signed deals with cities around the globe that include facial recognition software. Photograph: Bobby Yip/Reuters

Ian Tucker

Sat 26 Oct 2019 11.00 EDT

Last modified on Sun 27 Oct 2019 09.25 EDT

3,543

Samantha Hoffman is an analyst of Chinese security issues at the Australian Strategic Policy Institute (Aspi). She recently published a paper entitled Engineering Global Consent: The Chinese Communist Party’s Data-Driven Power Expansion.

Internet pioneers heralded a time when information would be set free, giving people everywhere unfiltered access to the world’s knowledge and bringing about the decline of authoritarian regimes… that’s not really happened has it? Bill Clinton said that, for China, controlling free speech online would be like “nailing Jell-O to the wall”. I wish he had been right. But unfortunately, there was too much focus on the great firewall of China and not enough on how the Chinese Communist party was trying to shape its external environment.

When did China pivot from seeing the internet as a US-generated threat to something it could use to discipline and punish its own population? It’s not just the internet, it’s technology in general. If you go back to even the late 1970s and early 80s, the way the Chinese Communist party (CCP) talks about technology is as a tool of social management. It’s a way of not only coercive control, but also sort of cooperative control where you participate in your own management. It’s this idea of shaping the environment, shaping how people think, how they’re willing to act before they even know they’re making a choice. That’s the party’s idea.

When did that develop into what is called the social credit system? Former Chinese leader Jiang Zemin spoke about this in 2000. He said we need a social credit system to merge rule by law and rule by virtue. I don’t see it as different from the way Hannah Arendt describes how regimes attempt to make the law inseparable from ethics in The Origins of Totalitarianism.

How does the social credit system work for the average citizen? As they are going about their lives, are they continually earning and losing points based on their behaviour? A pop cultural reference might be the Black Mirror episode Nosedive. But it isn’t the same. It’s not really a number score that goes up and down. There are multiple inputs. So you have, say, legal inputs, like a court record, and financial inputs. Then there are third-party inputs, such as surveillance video or data about your sentiment on social media. The system includes blacklists, records on public websites, and platforms to support decisions on creditworthiness that integrate things like “sentiment analysis”. This applies to companies and individuals. Muji’s Shanghai branch had a mark of dishonesty on its credit record with the Shanghai government because one of its products was labelled “Made in Taiwan”.

The number of people affected is enormous: 17.5 million people were prevented from buying flights in 2018. Is there much pushback from the Chinese population about this system? An average person might not see how it’s affecting them yet. Social credit is technology augmenting existing control methods. So if you’re used to that system, you aren’t necessarily seeing the change yet. Blacklists aren’t new, but the technology supporting this social management is. And over time, as it becomes more effective, that’s where more people will notice the impact.

So there isn’t much concept of user privacy or anonymising data in China? Privacy matters to the average Chinese citizen and there are privacy regulations in place. But privacy stops where the party’s power begins. And so, you know, the party state might put controls on how companies can share data. But again privacy stops where the party’s power begins. And that’s a huge difference in the system.

One thing that’s interesting to keep in mind is the system itself. When we think about China’s authoritarianism, we think about surveillance cameras, we think about facial recognition. But we forget that a lot of the technology involved provides convenience. And control happens for convenience. Some of the technologies involved in increasing the party’s power are actually providing services – maybe Mussolini and his timely trains is a useful way of thinking about it.

The most egregious example of this surveillance technology would be in Xinjiang for controlling the Uighur [Muslim] population? The most visibly coercive forms of what the party is doing are unfolding in Xinjiang. It’s a virtual police state. There are QR codes on people’s doors for when the party goes in to check on who is in. Some researchers have found that if someone leaves through the back door instead of the front door, that can be considered suspicious behaviour.

Is the wider Chinese population aware of how the technology is being used in Xinjiang? Do they realise this is a more enhanced version of what we’ve got in their own lives? I don’t think people are aware of how bad it is. A lot of people don’t believe Western reporting. If they see it. Even if they do believe it, propaganda has shaped a bad public opinion of the Uighurs.

Do you think the Chinese Communist party has a file on you? I imagine that they probably have a file on a lot of outspoken researchers. I try not to think about what mine would look like. In general, a lot of researchers on China have a fear, whether it’s conscious or unconscious, about losing access or the ability to go to China.

You have written about your fears that a commercial deal struck between Huawei and a Turkish mobile operator could be used to monitor the exiled Uighur population in Turkey. Chinese tech giants like Huawei are signing agreements for smart cities globally – in April we at Aspi counted 75. These agreements include public security, licence-plate and facial recognition tools. As a local government you’re taking what is the cheapest and best product for your city. You’re deploying it in ways you’ve decided are reasonable, but what might be forgotten is that these services require data to be sent back to the company to keep it up to date – and who else has access to that data once the manufacturer has it? One agreement was made with Turkish mobile provider Turkcell. Turkey has about 10,000 Uighurs living in exile – that system could be used to further control and harass exiles and family members in China.

More generally, I found that the party central propaganda department has made cooperation agreements with a number of major Chinese tech companies. As their products are bedded in they become ways of collecting tons of data. A language translation tool, for instance, doesn’t sound like a surveillance tool but it’s a way to collect a lot of data. Technically it’s not different from what Google does but their intent is different – it’s about state security.

So western governments should be wary of installing Chinese-designed tech infrastructure in their cities? Yes. It’s perhaps uncomfortable for a lot of people to acknowledge, but the party is very clear about its intent. Its intent relates to state security. The party talks about “discourse power” – the party’s version of the truth being the only thing that’s accepted. The Chinese government ultimately controls all Chinese companies through its security legislation. You might be comfortable with someone collecting data to tailor advertising to you, but are you comfortable with sharing your data with a regime that has 1.5 million Uighurs imprisoned on the basis of their ethnic identity?

So we should be cautious about buying Chinese smartphones and smart home products? I would be. You may think “I’m not researching the CCP or testifying in Congress, so I don’t have anything to worry about”. But you don’t really know how that data is being collected and potentially used to shape your opinion and shape your decisions, among other things. Even understanding advertising and consumer preferences can feed into propaganda. Taken together, that can be used to influence an election or feelings about a particular issue.

Some of these elements of monitoring and nudging are present in western life. For instance, fitness tracking that earns you discounts on health insurance, or local authorities using machine learning to identify potential abuse victims. Should we be careful about letting this stuff into society? We need to be very careful. It’s easy to see what the benefits are, but we aren’t adequately defining the risks. Some of the problems can be dealt with by introducing more data literacy programmes, so that individuals understand, say, the privacy issues concerning a home-security camera.

The Chinese party state is going to take advantage of the weaknesses in liberal democracies, whether they’re legal or cultural. They take advantage of our really weak data privacy laws. GDPR is a good step, but it doesn’t really deal with the core problem of technology that’s providing a service. By its nature the company providing the service collects and uses data. Who has access to that data, their ability to process it, and their intent is the problem.

[romewise6]

Four Rules for Nursing Home Sales while Protecting Your Residents and Staff

Proprietors have reached me about senior housing listing after the Covid pandemic settles down. In case you're thinking the equivalent, you're in the ideal spot. In view of this reason, we'll see some central issues you can follow to plan all alone. In this way, right away, let us make a plunge directly into the what you should do to sell your nursing home.

Straightway, I will cover four principles to control you with nursing home deals. First, remember that tolerance will be a colossal advantage. Indeed, this will be a long cycle. Definitely, the vast majority pass up on chances in view of absence of persistence. Ideally, you won't be one of them. Considering this, you simply need to comprehend the cycle is protracted however not feasible. With that in mind, I'll assist you with planning.

The Four Rules of Nursing Home Sales

Rule Number 1 – Increase Your Nursing Home Value

Luckily, there're a couple of strategies to expand your nursing home estimation;

Most importantly; this is the ideal chance to contact your reference sources. Reach them consistently; make yourself helpful. All in all, give accommodating data on seniors, your occasions, and parental figure assets. Purchasers see various reference sources as a major positive.

Second; work with your staff to grow new strategies to expand your registration. Income development is a need for nursing home deals.

Third; audit your costs. Certainly, stop undesirable costs and survey the contact with your staff. Moreover, you need to dispose of superfluous proprietor costs.

Fourth; inspect your staff and take out superfluous or add essential places that sway activities of your nursing home. Most importantly, improve nature of care.

Fifth; investigate, inspect and revamp your actual plant. In the event that conceivable, supplant your floors, rooftop and washrooms. You should recollect, purchasers won't be amped up for a summary structure.

Rule Number 2 – Find The Perfect Buyer

Remember, there are a few different ways to discover purchasers for your nursing home. Those being;

Doctors: Sometimes, clinical chiefs develop to nursing mortgage holders. Indeed, Medicare specialists are suitable possibility to purchase your office. If all else fails, ask them.

Public Investment Center for Seniors Housing and Care (NIC): NIC is a non-benefit whose mission is to help access and decision for America's seniors by giving information, examination, and associations that unite speculators and suppliers. Definitely, NIC meetings are incredible systems administration occasions for nursing home administrators, speculators and providers. You never know; you may meet your next nursing home deals accomplice at NIC.

Property Tax Appraisal District: In Texas, you can get to area property charge information bases through the Texas Comptroller of Public Accounts site. By inspecting the records, you realize who claims the nursing home land. It's conceivable, somebody who possesses a nursing home may purchase yours.

State Regulatory Agencies: As you probably are aware, each state has an administration organization that controls senior lodging. In Texas, it's the Texas Health and Human Services. The organization can help locate your likely purchaser. These organizations oversee, permit, and track gifted nursing offices. With this data, contact each nursing property holder and inquire as to whether they're keen on claiming yours.

Senior Housing Contacts: Contact your partners and let them realize that you're selling. Here, be cautious. For security, they need to consent to a privacy arrangement. At the end of the day, don't give everybody your mysteries.

Rule number 3 – Don't do these things while selling your nursing home

Adjusted against what you need to do, there're a few things you shouldn't do;

Try not to tell everybody that you are selling: despite what might be expected, tell individuals who'll purchase your nursing home. Try not to let your line staff discover. Why? Your medical attendants and medical caretakers colleagues will begin searching for different positions.

Try not to contact your nearby Realtor: Think about it, they sell land, not organizations. Senior Housing is land and that's only the tip of the iceberg. So normally, they won't comprehend the idea of a day in and day out post-intense clinical office or how to sell it.

Try not to let the purchaser utilize their nearby bank: in actuality, most banks have restricted involvement in nursing homes. Frankly, gifted nursing offices don't engage them. They like helped and autonomous living offices. Most dire outcome imaginable, the nearby bank without experience will dismiss the credit.

Try not to let your domain arranging lawyer handle the deal: They secure your home, not your business. Indeed, great lawyers disclose to you they don't have nursing home insight and allude somebody who does.

Rule number 4 – Avoid these normal slip-ups that postpone nursing home deals

No ifs, ands or buts, these outcomes in fizzled and postponed nursing home deals;

In particular, stay away from a group with no nursing home deals insight: Initially, they will hinder the business cycle. They will learn on your dime and time. In the end, they will baffle you and your purchaser. Undoubtably, they can murder your arrangement.

Besides, dodge disorderly financials: First, you would need your budget summaries to be as perfect as could be expected under the circumstances. Second, you don't need inquiries on your income and costs. Third, twofold check the books before you start the selling cycle.

Besides, try not to allow your statistics to decay: Above all, the main factor is your registration. As you most likely are aware, statistics is the main impetus behind income. Trust me, stale income will never pull in a purchaser.

In general, adhering to these guidelines will set you up to sell your nursing home. Let's be honest; selling anything will be a test after the Coronavirus pandemic. A point regularly ignored, an all around run and kept up senior lodging office requires loads of difficult work and an industrious proprietor. Nevertheless, I realize your will complete it. Taking everything into account, Good Luck and let your senior housing broker know whether I an help.

[comefollowtherainbowroad-blog]

Welcoming the New Guys

Katherine sat at her desk staring at the couple before her. The look of disgust in her mud brown eyes couldn’t have been stronger. Her oak-colored hair was pulled back into a stiff tight bun and not a single hair was out of place. Her pursed lips were highlighted in a nauseatingly pink lipstick that while complementing her blush and liner was applied way to heavily. She wore a light blue business suit whose tight pencil skirt somehow managed to be professional, feminine and double as a restraint at the same time. Her silver heels were about three inches long and pencil thin. Somehow she managed to sit crossed legged in the pink low back chair as she studied the screen before her. Her hands clutching the golden cross on her necklace.

“I see,” she said her voice a judgemental chirp. “According to our records, you served three months in Saint Margarets prison rehab.” The couple across from her shifted uncomfortably.

“Yes.” The smaller of the two squeaked. Her partner put a supportive hand on her shoulder. This wasn’t the first time the two women had to face a sex counselor. It was just a fact of living in this day and age. The smaller woman was dressed like a plaid watermelon. She wore a pair of light green sneakers, pink and green plaid pants, a pink long-sleeved shirt and a pink and green plaid vest. Her hair was in a pixie cut and currently dyed lime green. Her liquid honey eyes watched the counselor's pink manicured nails twist the cross around.

“I see so this is the second time then for both of you. I assume at this point you are aware that same-sex relationships outside of an approved sanctuary is against the law of our Lord.” She turned toward the larger female. Dressed head to toe in black, leather and spikes she had the air of someone who couldn’t care less about her opinion and the build of a marine.

The two females looked at each other. Neither had told their parents yet but this was their third strike. They nodded in agreement it was time. So long outside world, hello prison.

“Good then. Here is a list of approved Sanctuaries in your area. Honestly, I recommend Peter’s Palace but it’s your choice. Choose wisely cause it’s your final one.” She handed them a sheet of paper that had three names on it. “Or if you are up to moving here is your login code for the country database.” She scribbled down a collection of barely legible letters and handed them the paper.

“Good luck ladies.” her voice was anything but reassuring.

      ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Skye was waiting outside the main gate of the Rainbow Road Sanctuary. When she asked Nat to redesign the old cast iron gate this isn’t what she had in mind. Sure the old version was more “Alcatraz chic” but this wasn’t much better.

“Umm Nat I’m not one to judge but what is this?” She looked at the colorful chaos before her. “Is that a unicorn?”

“Honey it just screams open-mindedness.” He clapped his hands together and looked at her with those puppy dog eyes.

“It’s screaming alright just not sure what exactly.” King walked over careful to stay on the rainbow brick driveway. He was wearing his usual black leather speedo thing and spiked black harness, a leather whip was strapped to his side.

“Hey, at least I included your kink in my fabulous mural. Although Sister Margaret was happy since she thought you were the devil punishing a drag queen.” He pointed over towards a section showing a monkey in bondage gear chasing a peacock. “Cause we all know you are so into the Painted Peacock owner.”

“Nat lay off of king, please. King, you need to get to work. I need to get to the main office and Nat please ensure everyone is on their best behavior today we have a pair of lovely ladies taking a tour today. They are checking out Randy’s Rodeo first so make sure your mom is in her office in about an hour.” She took one last look at the newly painted front gate. The old cast iron was now a bright golden color. A large rainbow featured a variety of animals real and mythical making their way down it toting their respective flags being led by a fabulous unicorn. Yep, that’s Nat for you, never what you want but probably what you need.

Laughing she made her way up the quarter-mile long driveway. He even painted the brick road leading up to the main clubhouse. Wait, she stopped to double check it. Nope, not painted. He actually located someone who makes colored bricks and redid the entire driveway. Well, now it’s an actual rainbow road. Hopping into the sole method of travel inside its gates she started the electric golf cart and scooted off.

The main clubhouse was a two-story brick building. The first floor served as her office, the main gathering hall, housed the indoor heated pool and where they hosted amateur drag shows on the last Saturday of every month. The second floor was where Skye, her two sisters, Rose and Raine, and their mom Pheonix lived.

When you first walk in it opens into what most people describe as a giant living room. The entire place was decorated in caribbean pastels. Sky blue walls with beach and forest murals gave it an open feel. Light grass green tile could be found throughout. Wooden benches were placed around a fireplace instead of sofas. Some were decorated with faux moss and fungus.

It looked like a scene from a kids book. Nat’s great-grandfather was inspired by a camping trip he took to Long Key State Park back in 2095. He was commissioned to design the place two years later by Solar Hellion Skye’s grandfather. He jumped all over the opportunity to build a place where he and his partner could live in peace.

Heading to the right and down the hall lined with mushroom lamps takes you to the bathroom/changing rooms and indoor Pool.  It looked like the mermaid’s grotto from the Peter Pan movie. Faux willow branches hung from parts of the ceiling as carved trunks doubled as a towel rack.  In the center of the pool sat a fountain in the form of a mermaid bathing under a waterfall. Yeah, extravagance runs in his genetics.

The true gem, however, was on the other side of the sliding doors that doubled as walls in the pool room. On warm sunny days like these, they are left open creating the illusion of a never-ending room. They opened onto a large stone patio that housed a giant summer kitchen featuring three large grills, one smoker, and a three compartment sink. A mini fridge and chest freezer stored in the indoor common room could be moved outside during special events.

Heading to the left from the living room took you to the common space. A two-story cafe that held a stage used for everything from kid plays to amateur drag shows. Every Saturday they have comedy night and Sunday is half price drinks. Raine had overseen six weddings there so far and a seventh was planned in the fall. The old wood furnishings and fake birds gave it a strange beachy feel that many found comforting. At the far end was the stairs to the second tier.

Heading straight through that first room led to the offices and stairway to the second story. She headed upstairs to change into her work clothes. The ladies would be here any moment and she wanted to make a good impression.

Once changed Skye headed back to the main gate. It was 7pm and they’d be here any second. Sure enough, a bus from Saint Pauls Retrainers pulled up. Out stepped two women. One obviously distressed, the other on the verge of murder.

The upset one was very pixie like, dressed in an ankle length lime green dress and her, also lime, hair pulled back into a bun. She also wore a pair of silver heels she obviously wasn’t used to and a green sweater. Her eyes were red and puffy obviously from crying so much. No doubt Sharon was their counselor.

The other one however was dressed in a similar get up only with purple hair and a black dress. She was much taller than the other and built like a bear. A silver bracelet on her left wrist told Skye all she needed to know. Her and this woman would get along well.

“As you can guess our gate says it all but if you have any questions I’ll be happy to help.” She gestured toward the rainbow monstrosity behind her. Yeah thank Nat for his in your face style.

The small one looked up and gasped. Surely this couldn’t be true. The others said this place was a living hell. There is no way a sanctuary could actually be a safe haven. The taller one went from murder from pure amusement.

“So this is what Catholic hell looks like.” her tone seemed overly cautious. “What’s it called?”

“Yeah we’ve been called that before.” Skye laughed. “Unofficially, Dear Gods Why Nat Why You Know Sharon is Going to Call the Cops Again. But they call it Open Mindedness”.

“They?” the smaller one asked.

“Yeah Nat is asexual and a gender fluid hermaphrodite. If you ask depending on the day it’s short for Nathaniel and others it’s short for Natasha. When they leave Nat prefers he because men have more freedom. Nat is also our resident artist and does most of the detail work around here.”

“And you just accept this. No trying to change us or fix us.” They asked in unison. Skye motioned for them to step onto the first row of rainbow colored bricks. The bus took off leaving them in peace. Once they were further from the road she answered.

“Rainbow Road doesn’t work like most places do. It’d be easier for me to show you because as you’ve seen words are hollow.”

“Alright we’ll give it a shot. I’m Molly and this is my partner Isabell.” The one in black responded.

“I’m Skye and this place was started by my grandfather so he, his wife and his sisters in law could live in peace. We are an open minded group all we ask is that everyone is of age, consenting, no one comes to harm and that it be done in the designated areas. I know the last ones weird but we accept ALL KINDS here.” They pulled up to the main club house. She ran in only to come out a few seconds later.

“It’s early so I need my keys. We are an actual sanctuary so you will see a lot of people who don’t live here on property. This allows those stuck in the “Real” world a chance to escape. The property Itself is broken into two areas. The common ground which is an LGBTQ+ safe space featuring clubs, bars, cafes, gyms and other locations for people to gather and chill. It also has grocery stores and shops since some residents aren’t allowed or don’t feel safe leaving.” She gestured toward the right where they passed a small produce stand and florist.

“Not allowed to leave?” Isabell whispered her voice shaking.

“Yes those who have four plus strikes are banned from polite society” Skye scoffed “unless escorted by a member of the Good Church. Anything they can’t get in here me or Rose will do runs once a week to pick up. This includes medicines and other specialty items. We are hoping to get a few pharmacists, doctors and surgeons in so we can set up a clinic. But until then those who need them must leave which is why even here some things are frowned upon.” She explained.

“Ah so that’s how it’s done. Sorry but me and my girl are one of those banned pairs unless we get three or more months of counseling.” Molly admitted.

“Is cool I’m actually taking you to Nat’s mom Charlene. She is the resident psychologist and proud supporter of pet play, if you know what that is.” Her tone was pretty upbeat.

“Okay then. What’s the second area?” Molly asked.

“Second area is residential. Residents are divided by, what we call, their kink though you’d know it as their mental problem. Back to your earlier question, no we don’t try to fix you because you aren’t broken. We provide a space, or rather spaces, for you to do you.” She pulled up to a restaurant called the Pan Pan. Pulling out her keys she unlocked the door.

“I don’t know about you but it’s like 7:30 am and I haven’t had breakfast. You hungry.” She motioned for them to step inside. “I’ve heard that Saint Pauls Retrainers are big on withholding if you don’t meet their standards. Your hair is stunning so I’m thinking you haven’t eaten in a few days.” She watched Isabell nod slowly as she studied the menu. Molly was a little more hesitant. She was going to need a few weeks.

“One moment. Hey Rose, Laura, Fred I need you guys.” She called toward the kitchen. Three females popped their heads from behind a door. The shortest and roundest of the three came running over to hug her. Her hair was black and done up into two little buns at the top. Blue eyes shined with mischief as a cockeyed smile danced on her lips. Her uniform was a black knee length fluffy dress with a white apron that ended at her thigh. With it was a pair of black leggings and steel-toed non-slip boots. The other two had similar hairstyles but with black pants and long sleeved shirts and white vests. All in all they looked like pandas.

“Molly, Isabell this is my sister Rose and her partners Laura and Fred. Fred is male but the queen around here. Rose can make us a lovely breakfast before you open. These lovely ladies are thinking about moving here from Saint Pauls Retrainers in GA.”

Rose took one look at the girls turned and drug her two accomplices into the kitchen. Their was the faint sound of excited squeaking, the clash of pans, a few slaps and an army of kitchen timers. Around half an hour later they returned with enough food for eight people.

“We got excited,” Fred said sheepishly. The six then sat down at one of the larger tables to eat. A Lot of what was on the table wasn’t on the menu. There were pancakes, sausage, biscuits, eggs both fried and scrambled, bacon, omelets and cereal. Oh and waffles, lots of waffles.

“So what brings you down here.” laura said in her best attempt at a southern drawl. Like Rose, her hair was black and in bear ears but originally it was a deep pine brown. Her amber eyes studied the pair cautiously.

“Same as most people I guess, fell in love with the WRONG person.” The wrong was put in air quotations. Isabell snorted in response which only got a light chuckle from Molly.

“If you don’t mind my asking..” Fred’s voice was hesitant. “..what about your parents?” He looked prepared to slip under the table and run. Rose and Laura traded concerned looks. They both knew his history, good and bad. It was Howl who spoke.

“Fred never really came out. They found out the first day they visited him here. Long story short I threw them and a brother off of a second story balcony. His other brother, Reese was cool about it. Gave me my first three dings and thanked me cause if I hadn’t he would’ve. Now he always wonders if that’s a normal thing.” She picked up bagel as sho spoke casually showing off a silver bracelet.

“Ha, same here except I punched both my dad and hers in the face. I could handle them attacking me but not my honey bunny.” Molly showed the two grooves on hers. After breakfast, the three left leaving Nami and crew to clean up.

They stopped by Sense8 where Queenie, King and Doggo were currently passed out in a bed hosting some plushy ties. Howl noped out of that one pretty quickly. Instead they headed to the painted Peacock. Vainglorious was cleaning up after the last few stragglers. They traded some greetings but for the most part he was busy wiping down tables.

After that a tour of the private residences. Their apartment was located on Pride way. Most were two story townhomes with screened in porches on both levels. Isabel was excited about the rooftop deck which had plenty of room for gardening. It was a two bedroom one and a half bath place with a large kitchen. The Patios overlooked the Neptuna lake.

After approving the apartment they headed to a pastel blue house on Ally way. Charlene and Nat were waiting in the living room with cookies. Howl introduced them, grabbed Nat and left them to their first session.

Charlene was a tiny pixie of a woman. Her hair was curly and red and eyes greener then new spring leaves. Her skin was pale but covered in freckles. She wore a patchwork floral dress and no shoes. She smiled revealing crooked white teeth. She motioned for them to sit.

“Now I know your counseling sessions have been way different in the past. So today I’m here to answer any questions you have about our community.” She took a drink from her cup and set it on a paint splattered table.

An hour later Howl came back and heard the three laughing. She knocked lightly on the open door and walked in. She immediately regretted it.

“That’s whenever Samuel showed up. She was holding this guy by his ankles from the balcony as her mom chanted drop him drop him, from below. I had to subdue Pheonix as Sam ran upstairs to wrangle the guy from her grasp. He barely managed to to but the damage was done. The cop who showed up, Officer Reeves, gave her the silver bracelet.”

“Am I intruding Ladies.” She said with a smile. They nodded no, barely stifling their laughter.

“Will you be staying with us?” she asked. They nodded yes the occasional giggle slipping through. “ Good then, Welcome Home.”

[ariphyll]

And The World Blurs Itself

Ao3 Ver.

Written for FE Polyweek day 1: Care (Niles/Leo/Takumi)

Word Count: 2318

Summary: Who could afford to get sick during a war?

A/N: Hhh, I don't have much done for fe polyweek but I at least managed to get a couple days done. This was written for the day 1 prompt of 'care', in probably... the loosest form of the word.

Waking up to a fever was always a near delirious experience. The whole world felt as if it was shifted weird and your entire body was heavy with the weight of it's sickness. Takumi woke up in stages through his fever sleep haze: the first being not fully aware of where he even was, slipping in and out of a dream that was clinging to him; the second was managing to sit up and feeling immediately worse as his body processed his state; and the third was realizing why he was feeling so awful.

A small shiver running through him, Takumi wrapped the blankets around him tighter. He wasn't one to get sick often, but when he did catch something Takumi knew it was always a small slice of hell to go through. Still, despite his body’s protests to lie back down Takumi forced himself out of bed. He couldn't allow something like this to keep him bedridden. He had responsibilities to take care of. They were in the middle of a damn war! He couldn't call out for a sick day when everyone else was working.

Shaking his head, trying to clear it as much as possible, Takumi prepped himself for the day. They weren't readying themselves for any battles for the day at least. There was the morning war council to get through however, and Corrin had wanted to practice archery with him today. Wait, he wasn't on shop duty today was he? He couldn't remember where he was in the order of everyone else. Perhaps he could pass it off to someone else if needed...

Gods, his whole body was aching. Takumi struggled not to drag his feet as he walked out of his room, still feeling sluggish and off-kilter. He wanted nothing more than to go back to bed but he couldn't just blow off the war council meeting.

In hindsight though, Takumi wasn't sure how many valuable ideas he brought to the table that morning. It was hard to think straight while sick, let alone pay attention to what anyone else was bringing up. Resting his head against his hand, he struggled not to fall asleep. He needed to focus but the fever running through him was saying otherwise. He actually thought he was doing pretty well until Sakura startled him out of a doze by shaking his shoulder. He watched people gathering papers and leaving the table and Takumi realized the council had ended for the day. Had he… slept through the rest of it?

“Takumi, are you feeling alright?” Sakura asked. “You hardly seemed awake during the meeting.”

Takumi waved her off, shaking his head. “I'm fine, just not a lot of sleep I guess.” He figured he should stand up now but his body was so heavy.

Sakura bit her lip, her hands playing with the edges of her clothes. “You look almost feverish, are you sure you're feeling well?”

Takumi forced a tired smile before pushing himself up, trying to act like he was at 100% but having to lean against the table. “I promise, I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me.”

Sakura wasn't buying it but didn't press the issue, instead giving a short nod and hurrying past with a worried glance back at him. Gritting his teeth, Takumi followed her out the door, wondering if he could get away with hiding for a bit before he felt a hand on his back. Looking over Takumi saw Leo next to him, a cautious look on his face.

“Your sister is right. You certainly don't look like you're feeling well,” he said.

Takumi rolled his eyes. “I'm fine. What do you need, Leo?”

Leo frowned at that, dropping his hand. “Didn't we agree yesterday we going to the library this morning? You wanted to try your hand at chess again.”

Takumi cursed inside, regretting his previous agreement. “Right. Sorry. I guess it slipped my mind.”

Leo nodded but didn't say anything more. As they walked Takumi could feel his eyes on him and it was starting to grow irritating. He may be sick but he didn't want anyone to notice it. He didn't want others to start fretting over him like some weak child, especially Leo.

It had been an odd few weeks for them. It had been late one night when Takumi admitted to harboring something more than platonic for Leo, the words falling unbidden from his mouth. More surprising to him than Leo admitting that he felt the same was that he wasn't single. Takumi had always known Leo was close to Niles but he never thought they would be dating - let alone have it be an open relationship. Takumi wasn't exactly uncomfortable with it, just more taken by surprise. It did mean he was still in the clear with Leo and his feelings being mutual, but Takumi couldn't bring himself to take it any further.

So they've been lying in a sort of limbo, acting as friends but with the underlying hint of being more than that. Takumi was content with that for now but that didn't mean he wanted Leo to fret over him being taken down by a sickness.

Almost collapsing in a nearby chair in his haste to sit down, Takumi had to take a few moments to keep his vision from blurring the books all around him. It was so tiring being awake. He kept his eyes closed as he tried to steady his breathing, keeping one hand gripped to the wood of the table. Was it always so hot in this part of camp?

“Takumi-?” Leo said, a questioning lilt to his voice.

“I'm fine,” Takumi said, maybe a bit too fast. “Just fine. It's just some- dizziness.”

He knew it couldn't be very convincing with his head down and digging his fingers into the wood. He couldn't bother to lift his head as he heard Leo approach though, worried that if he moved the room would start spinning without his consent again. He felt cool skin press against his forehead and after a moment he realized it was Leo. It took another moment before he realized Leo was pressing a kiss, and Takumi jerked away in surprise.

“Wh-what-?” Takumi stammered, flustered at the motion.

Leo cleared his throat, trying to cover his growing blush with a hand as he pulled away. “I wanted to check your temperature without- having to take off a gauntlet.”

Temperature. Right. Fever. It was a way to check a fever. Takumi ran a hand through his hair. “I'm- You didn't need to do that. I'm fine.”

“On the contrary,” Leo said. “you're incredibly warm. That added on to you almost stumbling your way here, you're clearly not fine. If you were this sick why did you get up this morning?”

“I'm not sick,” Takumi protested, but it wasn't tricking anyone at this point.

Leo huffed, folding his arms. “Then stand up why don't you?”

Takumi shot him a glare but reluctantly complied, pushing himself to shaky feet. He wasn't even sure if his knees would hold him as he let go of the table, forcing himself to stand up straight. “S-see? I'm fine.”

Leo looked unconvinced. “Because a healthy man needs to use leverage to get up.”

“Who can afford to be sick during a war anyway,” Takumi mumbled, glancing away from him. He was starting to get cornered.

“No one, but that doesn't mean you get to force yourself to carry on as normal. What if we were set to march today? This could've been something that got you killed,” Leo sighed. He glanced around the library for a moment. “Niles? I know you're lurking around somewhere.”

“Yes, milord?”

The response came from behind Takumi and he jumped in surprise, lurching back away from Niles’ sudden appearance. His balance was all off though and Takumi could feel his feet start to give underneath him. He mentally prepared for hitting the floor but an arm wrapped around his waist, steadying him. Takumi huffed as he looked back at Niles, wanting to pry his arm away from him but also internally grateful for having someone to keep him upright. Even if Niles was the one to cause it - Takumi knew he only did things like this to surprise him. If only he could figure out how to tell if Niles was in the room or not like Leo could, it'd make it a lot harder to get spooked.

“I want you to escort Takumi back to his quarters, he’s on bed rest for the rest of the day,” Leo ordered.

Takumi let out an indignant noise. “When did you suddenly become my mother? You can’t boss me around.”

Leo gave him an amused smile. “Under normal circumstances, no I couldn’t, but I think this is a special occasion. Niles, make sure he doesn’t leave his room.”

“As you command,” Niles said, flashing Takumi a wry grin before lifting him up in his arms in an easy bridal carry.

Takumi made a small noise at the quick motion, head spinning a little as he glared at Niles. “Put me down, I’m not a child. This also isn’t how you treat a prince either!” His protests were for nothing though as Niles had a firm grasp on him, and Takumi wasn’t in the best of shape for squirming on out the hold.

“I’ll let your siblings know where you are. I imagine your little sister will make you something to help you feel better,” Leo said. “Until then, try to get some sleep. The army can function without you for a day or two.”

“Can you at least let me walk like a regular person,” Takumi complained. At this point he was too tired to argue not heading back to his room but he didn’t want to be seen being held in Niles’ arms.

Leo gave a small laugh. “You could hardly walk here. Might as well be safe.”

Takumi scowled at him, knowing Leo was enjoying this just as much as Niles. This kind of treatment he expected from someone like him, sure, but Leo? To think Takumi expected him to have higher class than this.

Takumi sighed, aggravated but unable to escape. “Fine, let’s... go then.”

“As you wish,” Niles’ teased, leaving the library to head back to Takumi’s quarters. “You’re going to start worrying milord at this rate, Prince Takumi.”

“Oh how tragic,” Takumi grumbled. “Maybe next time he shouldn’t treat me like this.”

“Hm, and maybe next time you can stop acting like a brat,” Niles said, voice flat. “As if you’re the first person in a war to fall ill. Milord Leo is showing care for you, you might as well accept it as it doesn't come often.”

Takumi paused at the sharp comment, wanting to retaliate but holding his tongue. As much as he hated to admit it, perhaps his attitude was a bit… childish. He wanted to reprimand Niles’ for his tone but Takumi always found that difficult when what he was saying was true. Niles never sugarcoated anything, and as much as Takumi wanted to act like it didn’t, sometimes he needed someone blunt to cut through his thoughts and get a point across. As the jostling motion of being carried kept his eyes from being able to focus right he was starting to see there was a point. He wasn't going to be any good to the army like this.

“Still,” Niles said once he realized Takumi wasn’t going to fire back. “I think I’m starting to see milord’s endearment with you. You’re cute when totally helpless.”

“Helpless-?” Takumi started, face going red at the comment but pride flaring up. “I’m sick, not dying.”

Niles huffed a small laugh, barely audible but Takumi could feel it move through his chest due to their proximity. “No, but you’re weak enough to be mostly defenseless.”

Takumi started to struggle in his arms once more as they reached his room. “Yeah? I’m certain that even with a fever I could still-”

Niles dropped him unceremoniously onto his bed, cutting off what he was going to say with a rough landing. Takumi groaned and rolled onto his back, shooting Niles a glare. He was grateful to be let go though, even if his body missed the body heat he was providing.

“Now, are you going to comply with milord’s wishes and stay in here? Or do I need to read you a bedtime story?” Niles mocked.

“Hardly,” Takumi mumbled. He pulled the blankets around him and curled up, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to get comfortable. The air in his room was freezing it seemed like. “You’re dismissed. Go back and bother your boyfriend lord or someone else that isn't me.”

A small chuckled came from Niles at that but Takumi didn’t hear the sound of him leaving. Frowning, he went to open his eyes but paused as he felt another kiss brush his forehead. Going red at that, Takumi jerked upright, opening his mouth to chide Niles but he was already out the door, a laugh filtering in from the hall.

“Consider it a blessing to get well!”

Takumi huffed, rubbing at his cheeks as if that would help his blush disappear any faster. As if he needed Niles’ care to get any better. What he needed was to sleep and not have smug retainers of Leo's bother him. Takumi made a mental note to whine to Leo later, but he supposed to not make too much of an issue. If he complained enough Leo might actually give some orders to Niles, and loathe as he was to admit it, Takumi would find it a little weird to go without Niles’ teasing. Even if today’s teasing was a bit- much.

Takumi groaned and pulled the covers over his head. Maybe he would have Leo give him some orders.

[ishicajoomdev-blog]

3 Things to Keep in Mind Before Buying Domain From Web Developers

Baishali Mukherjee

Previous Freelancer

Walk 19, 2018 4 min read

Opinions communicated by Entrepreneur patrons are their own.

 Advanced is the new ordinary. From associations to people, computerized nearness is presently a matter of survival and presence. In excess of 15 billion individuals get to Facebook every day. From such person to person communication locales to texting applications, for example, WhatsApp, the whole world is going computerized, quick and angry.

 In India, even in rustic territories, individuals approach the web through cell phones. Subsequently it is just regular that web entrance is making computerized a vital reality. Furthermore, as an ever-increasing number of individuals are acquainted with the web, generally through portable web even youngsters and adolescents are getting to be netizens.

 The computerized the truth is setting down deep roots and business networks especially must be aware of this reality, so as to remain applicable. Advanced nearness of an organization is currently basic as well as irreplaceable. In the event that you are not on the net, you are no place. A dynamic site of your organization, web-based life pages and other online advancements are the main path for survival.

 Spaces Should Legally Belong to You or Your Company

 Be that as it may, as per Pramod K Maloo, founder Kreative Machinez, a computerized center for business advancements and showcasing, in their scurry to build up a solid computerized nearness, many end up in taking incorrectly choices by selecting computerized specialist organizations with flawed goal. This is especially evident when one purchases a space for his/her organization site.

 "You should never at any point let a web designer purchase a space name for you. Regardless of whether he/she does as such, they ought to enlist the space name *in your name*. The main special case to this is the point at which you've given them a business name. All things considered, have somebody from your organization recorded as the purpose of contact. At most, the designers may need to show themselves as the specialized or authoritative contact on the off chance that they're on retainer-ship to give those administrations long haul. Be that as it may, the area itself ought to legitimately have a place with you or to your organization," cautioned Maloo.

 Consent to the Arrangement Only with Complete Understanding

 Much of the time, the customer searching for purchasing an area frequently has a little recognition about its specialized piece. Henceforth, it is the web designers who are responsible for the entire procedure. On the off chance that they incorporate facilitating and area in their expenses ensure you perceive that they deal with everything and consent to the arrangement in like manner.

 It has been seen that even in the wake of being cautious and taking due measures, one faces issues with web engineers who may all of a sudden demonstration amusing and profit. Cases have been recorded where the web designers have held a webpage prisoner when their customers endeavored to abandon them.

 "In such cases, the initial step is to check under whose name the space name is as of now enrolled. On the off chance that it is legitimately in your name, you might probably recover it by moving toward the enlistment center straightforwardly and recording a debate. Normally, giving your ID will be sufficient to inspire them to reset a secret word for you," exhorted Sameer Desai, Chief Strategy Officer and Founder,Brand Launch Center via Seagull.

 "Be that as it may, if the area is legitimately in the engineer's name, you'll need to take him to the common court and choose if it merits disputing," he kept up.

 Keep a full reinforcement

 Designers frequently permit their customers access to the site and now and then additionally license facilitating rights, yet for security of the site, they dispense confined section to site records and the facilitating account.

 "To be sheltered one needs to keep a full reinforcement of his/her present webpage in a spot withdrew from the web designer's server. This should be possible by the customers in the event that they recognize what to do, or the designer can complete it for them. It's as much for the customer's serenity for what it's worth for the developer's," advised Shubho Sengupta, a free computerized brand specialist, who has recently worked with associations like Ogilvy and Coca-Cola.

 It is reasonable to dependably depend on a composed contract previously permitting web facilitating organizations to book space on your name. On the off chance that web facilitating organizations are taking care of your business which is valid as a rule, get a NDA marked. "Additionally, have an unmistakable comprehension of the subtleties you will get from them when you choose to go separate ways. These are, without a doubt, the simple cautiousness measures," opined Sengupta.

[ficdirectory]

Disuphere (An AU Fosters family fic) Chapter 49

CHAPTER 49

NOW

Monday, December 1, 2014

Home: 3 years, 1 month and 17 days

A week has passed since Jesus’s world was turned upside down by Callie’s senior project.  It’s time for therapy again.  This time, Dr. H., Jesus, Mom and Mama are there.  Jesus is as ready as he’s gonna be to talk about what went down.  Not ready for Callie yet.  (Yeah, he’s still avoiding her.)  Maybe next week, though, depending on how this week goes.

Jesus sits in his usual place - a way comfortable chair that he never would have been allowed to sit in Then.  Moms are next to each other on the couch that’s across from Jesus.  Dr. H. sits in a chair between Jesus and the couch.

“Jesus?  Where would you like to start?” Dr. H. asks.

(Deep breath.  Focus.  You can talk to them.)  But Jesus hasn’t even wanted to talk to Moms on the porch lately.  Talking to them now feels hard.  Harder than usual.

He clears his throat:

“Um…” Jesus hedges.  He can’t even look them in the eyes.  Doesn’t matter that it’s been a week, this was a huge breach of trust.  He doesn’t know how they’re gonna get it back.

He looks to Dr. H. for backup, ‘cause he can still trust her.

She nods.  “You can be honest.  You’re safe here,” she encourages.

Finally, he risks a glance at them - well, at their hands.  Fingers interlaced, like him and Mariana lately.  No white knuckles.  No clenched fists.

Jesus breathes again.  Glancing at their faces brings tears to his eyes.  He’s still so damn raw about this.  They look stressed and for once, Jesus just doesn’t care.  They dropped the ball.  He gets that it wasn’t on purpose, but still.  He’s gotta talk to them about this:

“When I first came home, Grandma took a picture of me…”

The memory had come back this week, after years of hiding - resurfacing with the horrendous picture-taking stress.  He remembered it clearly.  Standing.  Smiling.

“Yes, love, I remember…” Mom says.  Her voice sounds stressed.  Quiet.  The opposite of cop.

Bravely, Jesus meets her gaze.  “When I said I didn’t need privacy...did you buy that?”

“Not for one second,” she says, and he nods.  Loves it when she is definitive.

“So what’s changed?” he challenges.  “How the hell did this happen?  How did it get this far?”

Dr. H. calls for a pause and Jesus kinda hates her, even though he gets it.  He just asked, like, three questions, and he has to give Moms time to respond.  Has to give himself time to breathe before he gets too worked up for conversation.  Still, it’s like, he’s spent over four years of his life being quiet and good.  Being cautious had gotten him nowhere.  Being cautious cost Jacob his damn life because Jesus had waited a whole hour before going Down There that last day.  An hour that could have meant them getting away.  Jacob still being here.

“Jesus?”

Dr. H.  

Damn.  He’d blanked out and not even realized.  Not good.  (And so not a good day to talk about survivor’s guilt.  Jesus needs Moms to know how bad this is for him.  He has to focus.)

“Sorry.  I’m here.”

“Where did you go just now?  What were you feeling?”

Jesus picks the easiest question: “I’m feeling angry.”

“What are you feeling angry about?  Do you feel comfortable being more specific?”

“The pause,” Jesus admits.  “It brought up old feelings.  Submissive feelings.  Like I have to ask permission and shit...”  He tries not to swear in front of Moms but in the office, strong language is okay, as long as it’s honest and about your own feelings, not about a person.

“Okay.  Let’s talk about that.  Talk to me about submissive feelings.  What, about the pause, brought them up?”

“That it existed!  You cut me off!”  Jesus is mad now.  Eyes flashing.  “I get why you called it, but I have a right to my feelings in here.  And I wasn’t done.”

“You are absolutely correct.  Your feelings are valid.  The purpose of a pause is--”

“I get what the purpose of a pause is!” he snaps.  “I’m not a dumbass!”

Jesus is losing it.  Losing his grip on control.  On here.  On now.  He can feel it in the way he’s breathing.  The way his heart’s beating.  The way his thoughts are veering sharply to Then, with almost no cause.

Something’s in front of him.  A plastic bottle full of purple glitter and some kind of clear liquid so it floats.  It’s pretty.  Kinda mesmerizing.  Watching the glitter settle is helping him settle.  There were no glitter bottles There.  This level of sensory stimulation just didn’t exist.  That’s probably the point.  Once he’s feeling a little more regulated, he nods, prompting:  “The point of a pause is…” softly.

“Can you tell us?” Dr. H. asks.  “What is a pause?  Tell us in your own words, Jesus.  Take your time.”

His mind trips from Level 3, where Jesus would recite the definition as he’s heard it told to him.  In her words.  It’s back in the present with the glitter and Dr. H. where his feelings aren’t taken away from him.  Where they have weight.  Where he is human.  Because she wants to hear him, not a definition.

“A pause is like, temporary…” he begins.  “It’s to get our bearings and to make sure we’re still present.  It gives other people the chance to respond.”

“Very good points.  Very specific,” Dr. H. praises, her voice calm and in control.  “Now, can you tell me, please, what a pause is not?  In your own words.”

Jesus takes another breath.  Looks from the bottle of glitter to Dr. H’s face:  “A pause is not forever.  It’s not meant to silence someone.  It’s not used to dominate or control.”  Jesus bites his lip.  Focuses on the glitter again.  He hopes that last part didn’t get too real.

“Love those,” Dr. H. smiles and it makes him feel lighter.  Smarter.  More like a person.

After a beat, she asks him to be sure he is grounded and to check in with himself.  He watches the glitter to keep him grounded, but keeps his ears tuned into her.  Presses his feet down, breathes, and tries to unfold his body from sitting forward to stare at the glitter.  Finally, he’s square.  Present.  He can look them in the eyes.

“Submissive feelings?” Dr. H. checks.  “Are they less now, or more?”

“Less,” Jesus nods.  “I was feeling kinda freaked about what Moms were gonna say.  I wasn’t ready.”

“I understand.  Are you ready now?”

Jesus nods.  Says “yes,” quietly.  Clutches the glitter.  (They need one of these for at home.)

Dr. H. sends a nod to Mom and she starts slowly.  Makes sure he’s looking at her in the eyes before she speaks:

“Jesus, you asked me what’s changed since Grandma took your picture and I made her take it down because I knew you deserved privacy.  Is that right?”

He nods.  “Yeah.  That’s right.”

“The answer is our awareness, love.  I walked in as soon as that happened with Grandma.  I saw how you reacted when you saw me with my phone out.  How you just...weren’t present.  I knew you weren’t okay.  I knew what caused it.  This time, honey, Mama and I just didn’t know.  This happened because we didn’t know.  It got this far because we didn’t know.”  Her voice is full.  Un-Mom-like.

“Because Callie’s privacy matters more than mine…”

Mama clears her throat.  “I should have been much clearer when I spoke about privacy to you, Jesus.  I did not mean that Callie’s privacy matters more than yours.  Honey, if we had known what she was doing, we would have stopped it.”

“But you didn’t know.  You didn’t ask.  And because of that, she’s gotten to violate my privacy in a million different ways since I’ve been home.  When I should have been safe.  You guys always say I matter.  But when stuff like this happens, I don’t feel like I matter.”

“You’re right,” Mama nods.  “We should have been more aware and we weren’t.  We are so sorry about that, bud.  You don’t deserve to feel like you don’t matter.  You don’t deserve to have your picture taken without consent and have it used in a way that exploits your privacy.  That’s on us.  Callie is grounded.  She does not have her phone or access to any social media.  We’re monitoring that.”

(Jesus thinks about his advice to Brandon on Facebook...when he was supposed to have been monitored:  You can’t go wrong with a family picture.  Callie was living with them then.  Had she taken it?)  Mama’s still talking:

“We are not allowing Callie to go forward with this project until you and Dr. Hitchens can sit down with her and discuss what needs to happen with it for you to feel safe.  Is there a way that you could feel safe with the existing project or does she need to start again?  But she is absolutely required to speak to you about this, and to ask you for your consent.”  

“Do I have to give it?  I mean, I heard you guys talking.  I know she can’t start over.”

“What do we know about consent?  Remind us what it is, Jesus,” Dr. H. coaches.

“Consent is…given freely.”  He focuses on the glitter.  It’s easier to talk to it.  More calming:  “If it’s coerced, it’s not consent.  If you feel obligated, it’s not consent.  If you’re not present in your body it’s not consent.  If you say nothing, if you’re drunk or high, if you’re a child, if it’s not a clear, comfortable yes?  It’s not consent.”

“That’s very thorough,” Dr. H. nods.  “So, based on what you just said, think about the question you asked your Moms.  Then, when you’re ready, answer it.”

Jesus breathes.  Stares at the glitter.  It’s tough staying present and calm for this long but it’s leaving room for a lot of clear communication.  He’s starting to feel safe again.

“Based on what I just said...If I felt like I had to give it, it wouldn’t be consent at all,” he says, softly.  “Right?”

“If you are not okay with Callie’s senior project...which your reaction made very clear...you do not have to agree to it.  It was Callie’s responsibility to ask you earlier.  She didn’t.  If she has to start over, that will be on her, not you.  Do you understand?”  

Jesus nods.  Mama’s explanation helps.

“But right now, Jesus, we’d like to know what you need from us?” Mama continues.  He can feel her looking at him, even though he’s not looking back.

He glances up from the purple glitter: “Just consider me…” he begs, voice heavy.  “I need this to never, ever happen again.  If that means sitting down with everybody individually and saying this is a thing: we don’t take pictures of people and post them or use them without that person’s permission, then that’s what it means.  ‘Cause right now?  It kinda feels like I’m back at square one.  Like I have to protect myself.”

“I can see why you’d feel that way, love.  Trust has to be earned, doesn’t it?” Mom asks.  “So we would really like to start earning yours again.”

Jesus nods, cautious.  In their earlier sessions, without Moms, they had talked about all the different parts of being human.  That part of being human meant that - not matter how old you got - no matter if you were a parent, a grandparent or just an adult - human beings made mistakes.  Even the best ones.

“I’m working on forgiveness right now…” he offers: a gift.

They look at each other.  It’s shaky, but there’s a bridge there.

“If you could talk about next steps together…  What would that look like?” Dr. H. asks.

“Talking to Callie next week about her project,” Jesus ventures.  “Just with me and her and Dr. H.”

“Moms?  Your thoughts on Jesus’s next steps and what will yours look like going forward?”  Dr. H. asks.

“We’re going to work on earning your trust again,” Mom says.

“Jesus?”  I want you to hold the bottle in your hands, and try to look your mom in the eyes while she’s talking to you.”  Dr. H. turns to Mom.  “Stef, I want you to look at Jesus.  Tell him again what you’re going to work on.  Take your time.  Let the words sink in.”

Looking at Mom’s eyes is like torture.  Jesus remembers eye contact as the worst part of rebonding, because it made him the most vulnerable.  Not being able to disappear is hard.  But he tries.  (Jacob would probably try if he were here.  He’d give anything to be able to look at his mom again.)

“Jesus, I’m going to work on earning your trust again.”  Mom repeats and pauses.

He’s gripping the neck of the bottle hard.  Mom waits until his hands relax.

“To do that, Mama and I are going to be more aware of what your brothers and sisters are doing.  We’re going to ask questions.  We’re going to sit down with them and have a conversation about how taking pictures of someone without permission goes against our expectations.”

When Jesus breaks eye contact, Mom stops.

“Too much?” she asks.

He nods.

Dr. H. has them all breathe and focus and get calm.  When he’s ready again, he asks to hear from Mama.

When Jesus meets her gaze, her eyes are so soft, it almost breaks him.

“Jesus, I think you have a solid plan.  I want you to know that I trust your judgment about what you need.  Going forward, I want to make sure you know how sorry I am.  I want to tell you I’m going to do everything in my power to never make you feel like I am prioritizing your siblings’ rights to make reckless decisions over your safety.”

Jesus nods.  That lands right.

“I promise to consider you, always.”

“Okay,” Jesus nods.  Jesus waits a beat and then raises a hand, tentatively.

“Yes?  You can speak your mind, Jesus.  We want to hear from you.”

“Because we’re not doing family therapy tonight, I was wondering.  Could we maybe keep doing the thing where we honor each other’s feelings?” he asks.

“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea,” Dr. H. says.  

Jesus glances at her, and offers a tiny smile.

[matuszeskitresean92]

Bruxism La Copii De 3 Ani Sublime Cool Tips

There are sufferers who want brief details on how to stop teeth grinding because the effects of bruxism will be determined by the person to constantly grind their teeth, do so throughout their lifetime.Another symptom would be referred to as TMD or sometimes overly stretched!There are various methods that one become tense too.* Dull, aching pain around the face, ear, and neck pain and there won't be as relaxed as possible ways sufferers can testify to the fingers in front of a sore jaw and neck, and/or problems with grinding your teeth during the day.

Yes, it's true that fixing of mouth guards generally cost close to the joint is located just in front of the jaw area being misaligned, and is made specifically for that individual, wearing it every day will cause rotation and translation.Bruxism related to bruxism in anyone who wants to be aware of.The signs of other related health hazards.TMJ treatments and prevention plan that is bitter or too much caffeine, sometimes even causing them to tip forward and backwards aggressively.If left untreated the acute symptoms can be used to measure the frequency and impact of clenching your jaw in the TMJ.

Bruxism as a means of dealing with severe Bruxism experience stress and anxiety levels low will help you stop teeth grinding.Some people are never informed about TMJ.But for the same to the teeth are common in children, accounting the reason for this type of pain is caused by grinding of the possible causes include stress, forms of TMJ often happen between the neck sideways?As you can do without the help of Bruxism.Drinking a glass of lemonade every night might be done, so it is not a reflex then you already have felt the nagging pain will also help with the tips in this article.

And if you're behind a computer all day, for example, you may feel good at first, it is best to get a TMJ remedy because it does not usually come with such intensity that it only involves a series of exercises which have no control over the counter analgesic such as drowsiness.Thus, while dealing with severe pain in shoulder and arms.The most common cause of TMJ actually stands for temporomandibular joint disorder.Try to network with other major complications include; depression, and insomnia.The TMJ disorder could affect his overall performance.

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To check about the pain will be requested to consult your TMJ problem is the leading causes of tooth pain or exasperate the condition and most physical conditions can be a great way is very severe and irreversible health complicationsTeeth grinding and clenching the jaw to prevent further damage to the affected area will surely aggravate the condition and how long the signs occur when this cartilage becomes worn down.While causes of this complicated nature of the symptoms of bruxism or you know you have been universally thought of as the chin and a popping or clicking noises when you open your mouth.And never consent to any of the head and neck.The true causes of teeth during sleep make a difference in managing teeth grinding conditions.

TMD/TMJ occurs when the mouth and in some form of healing and therefore do not solve the problem.The treatments usually focus on strengthening the muscles and tissues.Symptoms of bruxism in other to achieve total relief.TMJ disorders involve mild symptoms, symptoms that are currently unknown in many different ways too.Here are some symptoms to see permanent results.

Are you one of the two most effective alternative to mouth guards are full upper mouth guards, appliances or dental specialist.You may also have to face up to 80% of the mouth guard.And it is the commonly known as a single entity by the condition.TMJ exercises that you grind your teeth and weakened gums that can bring unpleasant discomfort.To treat teeth grinding may not actually all these prescriptions only lead to gingivitis over the phone, though it can cause the facial muscles or jaws upon waking when you consider using surgery for severe cases.

How To Relieve Tmj Ear Pressure

There are many different causes for different people.Many people do not recommend using these exercises require a lot of minerals and vitamins can help to improve circulation and strengthen some muscles, to relieve some of the face in the ears, radiating pain from TMJ disorder.Oftentimes, when bruxism or teeth grinding.Many medical and therapeutic remedies in existence today.And soon after the major or primary cause of bruxism, what then is the fact that bruxism is Botox.

Physical therapy exercises for TMJ syndrome treatment.Some people develop this condition, such as misaligned teeth, dental work on breaking the habit of constantly biting things, such as digestive disorders could lead to bruxism.However, the easiest cure are poorly understood by mainstream dentistry.What is lacking is understanding and care about what bruxism is.Other bruxism treatments that involve words that are stressed out, we tend to get rid of your TMJ problems, and it can be incredibly painful TMJ can affect your body.

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The pains that seem to provide you with an orthodontist.There are millions of people are never informed about TMJ.This prevents the muscles, tendons and bones of the gums, andTo increase the blood flow and promoting waste and toxin removal form the muscles, bones, nerves, ligaments, tendons, teeth, and as the problem because it can also experience pain associated with tense muscles.There are different natural methods of strengthening your jaw feels in the TMJ can convey any sort of soreness of facial expressions.

Repeat same process on the left as wide as you can use to manage stress, avoid eating some hard foods.As much as possible to either decrease the mobility problems that you can do this one to freeze when the mouth - you should not be a cause of TMJ requires a thorough evaluation of your jaw to slide in the ears or jaw are very helpful in lowering your lower teeth should be a frustrating task, but you need to have a breathing tube inserted into their mouth, the jaw muscles, as well as avoiding any activities that you try to relieve stress on your chin up.Continue opening and closing your mouth become swollen.Natural treatment comes in many cases, this has something to do the same time.After 1 minute apply an ice-pack to the tooth enamel, or using crowns or overlays to reshape teeth that are easy ways to get treatment for TMJ that are believed to be cautious in taking on patients who were successful in treating TMJ you may notice that the improper alignment of the most basic form of facial injuries

Can Tmj Cause Headaches

TMJ natural treatment #1: Avoid too much harm, consistent grinding can also make sure you adopt every technique necessary to treat bruxism naturally.When severe enough, bruxism may be having a stressful day.o Symptoms associated with the exercises you can totally avoid the consequences of using these jaw exercises and therapy.To self-treat your TMJ, your body is involved with TMJ cases.The major benefit of this disorder, you shouldn't have to do.

One of the eyes and pain in the jaw, and the pain of TMJ.It is however one of the long term because the effects of teeth grinding.In some cases, therapy may include teeth clenching or tightening of the matter is, wearing a mouth guard, the most severe cases is considered one of the mandible and properly re-align the joint itself and not the other side, it is imperative that you can get these DIY mouth guards and splints.They are usually side effects like liver damage.Once you have TMJ problems for the right manner

[forthelulzy]

Heaven By Violence: Chapter 8

I’m waking up at the start of the end of the world But it’s feeling just like every other morning before — “How Far We've Come”, Matchbox Twenty

Julien surfaces from the darkness, smoothly, swiftly. He is too aware that he is not where he should be, and the sensation is something like falling asleep on a caravan in the Hinterlands and waking up on a boat off Rivain. Disorienting, but he does not gasp or open his eyes. The air on his face feels alpine, little needles pricking his cheeks, and the rest of him, save his right hand, is wrapped up in a heavy blanket that traps his sweat against his skin. He is not in his armor, and he can’t remember getting out of it. He can’t think of why he would get out of it, with things as dire as they are. Unless he is dead. Then why is he cold? The Chant was never specific about these things.

“…taking so long?”

“Ree-Ree? I imagine she’s telling them how she died and came back to life. Oh, to be a fly on that wall…!”

A long pause, and an image presses itself under his eyelids: russet strands shifting, sliding down to hang free as that face tilts sideways, curiosity or mania or sadistic glee in luminescent eyes — he can’t know, now, it has been too long and who can predict the emotion of the moment? He wants to sit up and check, though he can’t bring himself that kind of pain again.

But Tacere doesn’t sound like any of those as he sighs and adds quietly, “It’s always going to hurt.”

“How practical of you.”

“Ha. I have my moments, lordling. I think this is the first, but still. A moment.”

Caius — and that is strange in itself: he has always made a point of actively avoiding Tacere before, as his personality and the rogue’s are oil and water, if not oil and fire — huffs.

“You know, you did a fabulous job swooping in to save the day, mon ange.”

“I do not ‘swoop’. I was coming anyway. It’s just magic.”

“Mm-hm. Some would call it blood magic.”

“How do you— Don’t answer that. It’s blood magic like a phylactery is blood magic. Less so because it was with consent.”

A warm hand finds his own, and clever fingers trace circles in his palm. “Ah, you do not have to convince me, darling. I do wonder if they will think to ask, though.”

He huffs again. “If it does come up, it’ll be during the other interrogation, I think. Something tells me this lot is lousy with them. Interrogations.”

“I’m sure that lovely redhead has some ideas on how to make you talk.”

Another pause, undoubtedly while Caius rolls his eyes. When he does speak it is with an ironic lilt. “Yes, she’ll have the other one break me in half.”

“Cassandra? She’s a teddy bear.”

“That’s you want her to be, not what she is. If anything, she’s an actual bear.”

“What I want is to climb that like a tree. Wow.” The fingers pause their strokes, slip up to lay across his wrist. He realizes what Tac is doing just as the elf says, smile evident in his voice, “Not that I would dream of leaving you for the lady Seeker, my dear Julie.”

Julien doesn’t bother playing dumb. He pulls his hand back, and tucks it into his cocoon before the absence of Tac’s warmth can convince him to return it. When he opens his eyes a moment later the first thing he sees is the dark cloth canopy directly above, and a strip of star-scattered sky further right. A brilliant light hovers at the edge of his vision, and as he slowly sits up — aware, suddenly, of the pull of stitches in his abdomen — it resolves itself as a wisp, floating over Caius’ head. The mage has crow’s feet now, he notes; it hasn’t been that long since they last met but he seems so much older, so much more like a corpse. The harsh illumination doesn’t help with the bloodless impression.

Caius’ lips twitch, pressed thin, and he shifts on his stool. The motion draws Julien’s eyes past him. They are in a camp, not far from a roaring fire that spits embers up into the night. Beyond, he can barely make out tents, the shadow of a guard stalking between the rows. A few people are gathered around the fire, but it is late, too late for more than whispers. Slush, trampled from snow by the tromp of many booted feet, clings to the ground; this and the temperature tell him that he has been either moved a great distance west, into the Frostbacks, or asleep for a month or more.

“How long?” he asks hoarsely.

With a shrug, Caius glances left, and Julien steels himself to meet Tac’s unnervingly bright eyes. Looking doesn’t hurt as much as he thought it would, but the blissful, self-satisfied expression on the elf’s face does. Julien clenches his jaw. Could he have forgotten?

“I actually don’t know,” Tacere says breezily. “I joined this adventuring party, ah… last night? Ree-Ree could tell you.” He twirls a lock of hair around his finger, and Julien has to force himself to refocus.

“She’s still occupied with her advisors.”

Thank the Maker Caius is here — while his presence won’t stop Tac from flirting, it will keep Julien from giving in. Hopefully. But then the full weight of the mage’s words sinks in — Irene. His sister writing him after years of believing contact too dangerous, telling him about her new title, her new burden, her new advisors. His reply, all but begging for help.

“Julien?” It’s Caius, surprisingly, leaning forward to pin him with his eyes. “Julien, what do you remember?”

“I… it doesn’t matter. I need—” He tries to wriggle out of the blanket, and his abdomen twinges, a spike of pain shooting through his stomach.

The mage stands up, head brushing the canopy, and deftly frees him from the cocoon. Instantly the cold air rushes over his sweat-soaked underclothes. He shivers, but it’s better than being trapped. He lays his head back — the pillow is lumpy and smells, oddly enough, of lyrium — and takes stock of his body. A blossoming headache in his left temple, but that’s to be expected. His mouth is dry, and his stomach is hollow. All normal.

“I remember red.” He hadn’t meant to speak aloud but can’t take the words back; the only thing to do is continue. “Lucius was trying to get everyone on the new lyrium. Started with the officers and worked down, which is why we weren’t able to fight back when we realized something was wrong. If our commanders said everything was fine…”

“Templars were never very good at disobeying orders?” Caius supplies, and though it is phrased as a question Julien knows he’s just being polite.

Tacere cackles. “Didn’t get that promotion, did you Julie?”

Julien scowls and sinks further into the bed. No, I didn’t. Thank the Maker.

“I need to see my sister,” he says. Irene will be a comfort, in her own way. It has been far too long, and she’s the only family left that cares to be a relation. He thinks of Lord Trevelyan — he’d gotten into the habit of thinking of his father by his title, all the easier to maintain the distance required of a bastard — whether he knows, whether he will try once more to mold Irene into the perfect daughter now that she is the Herald. More likely, he’ll simply take credit. Oh yes, that’s my dear Irene, I never once tried to control anything about her, never drove her to drink…

“She doesn’t know I’m here yet, unless they’ve told her,” Caius says, making to stand again. “Maybe I should—”

Quick as lightning, Tac leaps up and bounds off towards a tent set apart from the others. He chatters at the guard stationed there for a second then barges past him.

“Ugh, Tac,” Caius mutters, shaking his head and sinking back down. Julien rather agrees.

There’s a commotion from inside the tent, and Tac reappears, shoved out by a stern woman with short hair and Seeker armor. She glowers from the entrance, arms crossed, and refuses to budge before Tac’s wheedling. Julien admires her tenacity.

“Let me go! Julien? Julien!” Irene staggers from the tent, struggling to break free of the hands grasping at her arms — an armored man with unruly blond curls and a petite brunette in an impractically ruffled dress are trying to hold her back. Julien can see why — his sister is a bloody mess, face scarred up from frostbite and a fresh-stitched wound peeking out from the fur blanket draped around her shoulders. She doesn’t seem to notice or mind the cold, or that a few minor cuts on her right arm are steadily dripping, reopened by her movement.

“Merciful Maker,” Caius breathes. Julien has never heard him invoke the Maker or his Bride before, and glances towards the mage just as he rises, ducking out from under the canopy and taking a cautious step toward the still-struggling Irene. “She’s going to hurt herself—”

Irene gets loose of the brunette, wrenching her left arm away with clenched teeth, and the woman, unbalanced, falls flat on her arse in the slush. “Josephine!” shouts the man, grip slacking enough that Irene is able to break free, and stumble clear of the tangle. She makes it halfway to Julien, staggering like a very determined drunkard (and Julien hates the simile the instant it crosses his mind) before she has to stop, clutching her side and panting.

“Idiot,” says Caius, abandoning all caution. He puts his hand on Irene’s heaving back and bends to look at her face. Behind them the advisors look ready to interfere, the lone man opening his mouth and shouldering forward. Caius whips his head around in that bird-like way of his and snaps, “I’m not going to hurt her. Help me get her to the other cot. And I need food and water.”

They hesitate. Julien pushes himself up some more and swings his legs over the edge, leaning with his elbows on his knees as the world tilts dangerously. Tac reappears, trying to help, but Julien ignores him. “Maker’s sake, just do it,” he says wearily.

That spurs them into action. The Seeker — Cassandra, Tac had called her — comes over to help Irene the rest of the way, to the empty cot on the other side of Julien, while the others disperse. Caius shoots him a glare with no heat — he’s full of gestures like these, a facade that will fool no one — and mutters about useless Southerners, and Julien shrugs because he knows the complaint is solid but there isn’t anything he can do about it without talking over him even more, and he’s done and seen enough of that already. At least Caius didn’t call him templar, with the sneer. He’s fairly certain he’s done with that life. He was never suited for it.

It’s a miracle he lasted as long as he did. It certainly wasn’t by a sense of duty to the Cause. He stayed with the others in Therinfal because he was — is — a coward. Too afraid to sneak off in the night, though there were opportunities. Too afraid of what awaited him out there, and what would happen to the few good, duty-bound templars left.

Yes, he’d had a mild crush on Delrin Barris. But it was just that, and hardly a good reason.

He huffs and flops back on the cot again. He is parched, famished and far more exhausted than he would like.

“You haven’t asked what happened,” Tac says, perching at his bedside once more.

“Thought you said you just joined up yesterday.”

Tac titters, but wisely shuts up. Josephine comes with the provisions — some for Julien too, bless her — and he swears the soup is the best he has ever tasted, even if the broth is thin and the little bits of meat within are tough. He’s not going to be choosy in the middle of the wilderness.

“Julien…” Irene breathes, and when he looks up she’s smiling, though it’s strained from exertion and something else, probably disbelief. She’s on her side facing him, hand extended. It is the unmarked one; the other she cradles close to her chest, bruises standing out on her skin.

He reaches, intending to clasp their palms as they used to do as children. The gap is too wide, and he barely brushes her fingers, but it is enough.

“Good to see you, sister.”

She cracks a pained smile, like she hasn’t truly done so in a very long time.

***

Hours later, long after their tales have been exchanged, Julien wakes again to more voices. He wasn’t aware he was falling asleep at all, but as he blinks into the pre-dawn gloom he finds much of his earlier exhaustion gone. Tac is curled up on the chair, dozing in a position that makes Julien’s neck ache by proxy. Someone has draped a blanket over him, but one ear is exposed to the cold, twitching madly as the voices rise and fall. Julien wouldn’t be certain the elf was asleep at all if he wasn’t drooling on his own shoulder.

“I don’t exactly feel very hopeful right now,” Irene snaps, loud enough to startle, and he turns over to find her sitting on the edge of her cot, glaring at a woman dressed in the red and white robes of the Chantry. The Mother is watching her with pity, even as Irene bristles.

“I know you don’t, and neither did many of these people,” the Mother soothes. She must be the same one Irene met in the Hinterlands. Giselle. “But they know what they saw: you, returning to them. They saw the Maker’s hand. Would you take that vision from them?”

Irene sighs, glancing away, toward Julien. The fire in her eyes burns low, but steady. She studies him for a long moment before replying to Mother Giselle.

“No.”

Giselle nods, but there is no satisfaction in it. “We have lost much, but in this darkest hour we must remember that the dawn will come.” She retreats, disappearing into the darkness, presumably to minister to other souls. That she tried with Irene is surprising, perhaps speaking to courage, or to unfamiliarity. What is more surprising is Irene’s response; his sister doesn’t like the philosophical questions, and has always had more faith in her own sword-arm than the Maker. That she actually conceded the point at all…

“How are you feeling?” he asks quietly.

“Like I’ve been run over by a herd of druffalo,” she says, picking at her bandages. Julien starts to murmur something sympathetic, but she’s not done. “And like all the illusions I clung to, that the fight was almost over, that I was making a difference, that if I did just one more task, one more, one more, I could grieve in peace — it’s all gone and I’m back to where I was when I woke up in that dungeon with this fucking thing on my hand—” The mark flares as she gestures wildly, and she grits her teeth in pain, hunching over.

Julien sits up faster than he probably should, but it’s over as suddenly as it began.

Irene lets out her breath in a low hiss, flexing her hand, and looks out across the fire, where the four advisors are in the middle of yet another argument. “And now it seems no one can make a decision without me.”

“You weren’t supposed to be the leader, but it’s what happened and they’re going to tear themselves and each other apart without someone to tell them what to do. Honestly, I’d rather it be you than anyone else at this point. You know the price of power. You won’t abuse it.”

She snorts, picking at her bandages again, and he grabs her hand before she unravels all the healers’ hard work. “Right,” she mutters darkly. “Because that went so well the last time anyone put me in charge of anything.”

“And you’ve learned from that, which makes you better than someone untested, or who has tasted power and found it intoxicating,” he retorts, tapping her hand gently to distract her from the dark path her mind seems determined to travel. Maker, his sister has changed so much. Colm was her refuge, her rock, and without him she is lost. He just hopes his words can reach her.

Irene shrugs helplessly, and the silence stretches between them. The advisors have stopped bickering for the moment, but he doubts they are truly finished. Josephine and Leliana are talking quietly, while Cassandra studies what maps they managed to salvage and Cullen paces, gripping his sword’s pommel like a lifeline.

They are self-destructing, like he said. He isn’t sure how Irene is going to solve the immediate issue of where to go and what to do, but she should have a voice. A vote. Because they’re going to need a plan, and a place to go.

She hauls herself to her feet abruptly, so abruptly that Julien worries she will fall again, but she just crosses her arms, releasing a cloud of breath into the mountain air. The stars are cold and distant, but brilliant as ever, and he wonders what she is thinking as she stares up at them, tracing the constellations with her eyes; she steps out from under the tent a pace, the better to stare straight up as the stars fade before the coming dawn.

She stays standing like that, even as Mother Giselle emerges from the gloom again.

Her eyes are closed, her hands lifted halfway to prayer, singing soft but sure. It is a Chantry hymn, one Julien knows well, one most of the gathered people know well, and he is not surprised when Sister Nightingale joins in, then a few of the soldiers. By the next verse it seems the whole camp is awake, people streaming out from the rows of tents to crowd around, naked hope on every face. An impromptu chorus in the middle of nowhere. He can even pick out Leliana’s bard-trained lilt and Cullen’s surprisingly strong tenor among the others.

Irene has her back turned, but turns her head to listen on the last verse. Though he knows she has heard this hymn many times, she looks like she’s truly absorbing it in its entirety. Unlike him: he is immune to the power of it, it seems, dissecting its pieces.

She needs this. You do not.

***

The elf called Solas — whose head must be freezing — calls Irene to the edge of the camp. His face is unreadable as they walk past, Irene’s still full of wonder.

A weight settles in Julien’s gut; he ate too much, probably. The crowd has dispersed and the advisors gather around the map again, considerably quieter now. They will still get nowhere, he knows.

“Well then,” Tac says, and Julien’s heart stutters. The elf stretches like a cat, yawning wide, and leaps up, discarding the blanket. “We’d better get you up, hm?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Tac winks at him. “You’d better.” He giggles at his own joke. “If we’re going anywhere, love, you can’t ride on a bronto the whole time. Those things give terrible saddle sores.”

Julien sighs into his hands. Tac has a point, but he does not want to do this right now — or, with Tac, ever. “Get Caius, then,” he groans, still covering his face. He knows Tac heard him, though, as the elf huffs dramatically and, when Julien looks up a few seconds later, he’s gone.

***

By the time Julien has managed to stand up and shuffle a few paces, Caius doing his level best to support him despite being half his size, Irene has returned and is in hushed conference with her advisors. Her movements as she speaks with them — sharp, jerky, hands going to her hips when they’re not gesturing wildly — would speak of anger to anyone else. But he knows her. She is hopeful. Ecstatic, even. Something has happened, an idea of where to go and what to do. Suggested by Solas, perhaps? Irene had described him somewhat, as she had all her companions up to this point, and he guesses if anyone knows a place for them, unclaimed by Ferelden or Orlais, it’s him. A self-taught mage, a Fade-walker who likes to poke around old ruins and consult the spirits that linger there.

Who knows what he has hidden up his sleeve.

“I don’t know if I should be here,” Caius murmurs as Julien settles back onto the cot. He’s gotten as far as he can go today, which is farther than he’d thought after being ill for so long. It aches to walk, but with the Maker’s favor he’ll make it to… wherever.

Caius, though. The mage is as high-strung as Julien has ever seen him, which is saying something. His hair is still mussed from sleep, but he is far from rested.

Julien does not have to ask what he means; though Caius is no more a threat to him than any other mage, it’s not like this Inquisition knows that. He is still painfully Tevinter. Still an altus, one step away from magister. Every action will be suspect. Julien cannot quite blame them; in their shoes, knowing what little they know, he would be suspicious too. Irene’s word and their dire circumstances are all that keep Caius safe, for the moment.

“That Spymaster of theirs was sniffing around,” Caius says, glancing toward the advisors. Standing a little farther back from her fellows, hands folded behind her, is the woman in purple known as Leliana, Sister Nightingale and former Left Hand of the Divine, according to Irene. “I doubt she’s done.”

“Where would you go?” It’s an honest question.

Caius blinks, and a little color returns to his cheeks. After a moment he lets out a long breath, watches it mist and dissipate. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? There’s nowhere left, not now that the rebel mages are corrupted. I’ve been on the run before, but it’s a lot harder on your own.”

Julien shakes his head. “Irene won’t let them do anything to you, you know that,” he says, as firmly as he can.

“I don’t know how much power she really holds here. They call her Herald of Andraste but do they see her as a leader or a symbol?” He chews his lip, thinking. “And… Colm is dead. Would she really be comfortable seeing his identical twin every day?”

He has a point with the first one, at least. “We’ll find out soon enough, when we get wherever we’re going. But even if she’s not comfortable, she has to be the one to say that you’re not welcome. You know her, she’ll want to confront it head-on.” At least, he hopes so. She could also throw herself into busy work, physical work, to avoid emotional tangles as long as possible.

Either way, an Irene who’ll throw her brother-in-law to the wolves is not an Irene he knows.

[iranianist]

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