#MERCURY'S NO GOOD VERY BAD SHIT WEEK

[brainjuicezz]

MY DRAWING TABLET,,, ITS BROKKEN

IM AT ME FUCKIGN LIMIT

[fruitcoops]

just had a tornado blow through...(we're okay, it's kinda normal here). but could we get another blackout/big storm fic? (if you're up for it?)

Glad you're alright! We've got a big storm here tonight as well <3 Have some Lions working through life to distract. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW mild/ medium relationship issues, Sirius' bad habits, and previous people not being very nice to Leo

There was something in the water. Remus was sure of it.

“Put—stop it! Put it down!”

Maybe carbon monoxide was leaking into the rink. Plus all of their houses and apartments.

“I told you, it’s not about the rutabaga.”

Or, fuck it, Mercury was in the microwave again. In the Gatorade? Something like that. He wondered if Marlene would know.

Arthur knocked on the doorframe and the mass of grumbling died down; the air still tasted like sour sweat and irritation and Remus wrinkled his nose at the mats. After a cursory look around the room, Arthur raised a brow and gestured with his clipboard. “Y’know, I’ve got a lot of notes—a lot of notes—but none of you look like you can handle them right now, so we’re doing the short version. Cap, come see me. Lupin, Moody’s waiting for you, don’t give me that face. Olli, figure your shit out. Kuns…Kuns.” He shook his head. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Tremzy, stop being mean, and Harz, stop being stupid. Bliz, Layla gets the honor of having you this afternoon. Do your cooldowns without biting each others’ heads off, please, and then go home and sleep this off. Goodnight.”

“Night, Coach,” came the mumbled chorus.

Remus chewed the inside of his lip while he stripped his shin pads off. Sirius was already halfway out the door, still in his under armor—the rush of endorphins that usually accompanied the sight of his gorgeous fiancé was notably absent. He closed his eyes and took a breath. Recenter. It was a rough day, rough week, rough whatever. It would be best to just let it go now.

A hand clapped his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Jesus!”

“Woah, hey, easy.” Talker held both hands low, palms down between their stalls. “Just saying hi.”

“What—” Breathe. Recenter. Remus blinked a few times to clear his head. “Fuck, no, you’re good. Sorry. Hi. Sorry.”

Talker’s gaze turned dark with worry. “You okay?”

“Just…in my head.” It was a shit answer, but his vague wave seemed to get the point across. Talker nodded slowly. His hands remained on his own side. “You?”

“Been better, been worse.” He tipped his head back and forth, making his small earring swing. A gift from Noelle, if Remus remembered correctly. He watched it catch the fluorescent light for a few seconds before Talker spoke again. “Weird energy in here.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Remus turned back to his pads with a humorless laugh. “No kidding. We should crack a window or something.”

Talker hummed, tucking his hands beneath himself. One knee bounced incessantly and Remus tried not to let it bother him. “Reminds me of the you-know-whats.”

Remus’ hands itched to knock on wood. “Yep.”

“But we’re not there. Yet,” Talker added after a pause.

“Nope.”

“Cap’s being…interesting.”

“Tell me about it,” Remus muttered.

Something like relief rippled over Talker’s expression. “So it’s not us.”

“When is it ever?” Remus offered a wry smile. “He gets like this. You know that. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

Talker’s shoulder relaxed against his own, warm and solid. “Yeah, I guess.”

“It’s really not you, man.”

“I know.”

“T.” Remus waited until he looked over, and ducked his head slightly. “It’s not you.”

The kicked-puppy look in Talker’s eye made his chest hurt. Remus knew he had a tendency to put it all on himself—to think he was solely responsible for maintaining the team’s happiness. They were friends for a reason, after all. A missed pass wasn’t the end of the world, but…god, in the NHL? It sure felt like it.

Leo blew past them, not quite stomping, but certainly not pleased. Remus followed his path and found Logan staring at the floor with the same mournful gaze that plagued half the room. His stomach twisted. For a group of guys with everything in the world, they were a bunch of fucking messes, sometimes.

He patted Talker once on the shoulder before standing; he didn’t bother with shoes. It was a quick enough trip to get by in his socks. Moody’s office door was already open when he arrived, and he had barely raised his hand to knock on the frame when a grunt invited him inside.

The door closed with a faint noise. Silence thickened the air, save for the scribble of Moody’s pen. “Coach said you wanted to see me?” Remus prompted awkwardly. He didn’t like this stiffness. They had never been like that before.

Moody clicked his pen shut and leaned back in his chair with a long sigh, rocking back and forth. “Layla says you’re favoring your bad side.”

Tattletale. Remus bit the instinctive thought back. That wasn’t fair. “Probably.” Moody raised an unamused brow at him. “Yeah,” he admitted, scuffing his foot on the floor. “Yeah, I think so, too.”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause.”

“The league doesn’t like it when I’m not nice to you boys.” Moody fixed him in place with a look. “But you’re not a snitch, so cough it up, you little shit.”

A scowl tried to claw its way onto Remus’ face, but he kept himself steady. Moody had done too much for him and saved him from too many bad places to be iced out. He kicked at a dust bunny. “Nine years.”

“Since…?”

“Since.”

“Ah.”

He sniffed, dry-eyed and nauseated. “Next Monday. Nine years. I still remember the day and time it happened.”

“We’re not playing Vegas next week.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Moody went quiet, and stayed that way for a long time. His chair creaked as he rocked in slow, maddening patterns. He’d have his leg off, tucked beneath his desk; he rarely left it on when he didn’t need to. Something about sweat. Itching. The works, he’d grumble if Remus asked. The ‘World’s Best Grandpa’ mug—a gag gift from last year’s Secret Santa—sat undisturbed on his desk, filled to bursting. Pens, pencils, a spoon, a screwdriver, an inexplicable parrot feather, all interspersed with his steadily-growing collection of flags.

Remus remembered the day the first one had appeared. A simple rainbow with a wooden stick, no bigger than a postcard. Moody hadn’t said a thing, but he knew it was for him. It wasn’t the only one anymore. The sight of it still made his throat tight.

“Come see me if you need to,” Moody said at last. He tapped his pen on his stack of papers, then nodded. “For the record, I’m not worried. Out of my office.”

“Have a good night, Moody.” Thunder rolled overhead as he turned to the door. “Get home safe, okay?”

He got another grunt in the affirmative and turned the doorknob, hoping the squeaky top hinge would muffle his sigh. The door swung open, Remus walked face-first into Sirius’ chest, and everything went black as night.

--

“I don’t know why you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Don’t pull that bullshit.”

“My feelings aren’t bullshit.”

“Mon dieu—”

“I’m serious, I’m not angry.” Leo shut the drawer a little harder than necessary. The salt shaker rattled on the counter.

“Then what are you?” Logan demanded, keeping his voice low.

“I’m—” He pressed his lips together and tilted his face up to the ceiling. Upset. Hurt. Stressed. Frustrated. Angry. “I don’t know.”

“I already apologized for the rhubarb—”

“Rutabaga.”

“Jesus, Leo.” Logan’s tone was sharp; he flinched. Okay, maybe he deserved that one. He heard Logan’s unsteady exhale and felt a gentle touch on his arm. “I’m sorry. I should have listened better, or texted you when I wasn’t sure.”

And there it was again, that burning flare of annoyance. Leo shrugged him off and turned to the coffee maker. Someone had left their disposable cup in the machine the last time it was used. The sight made him want to take the entire thing and slam it on the floor.

“Leo?”

“I don’t want you to text me when you aren’t sure.” His voice came out shaky and he silently cursed himself. At least his hands didn’t tremble while he swapped the cups. “I—Logan, I shouldn’t have to be your food dictionary.”

“Hey.”

Leo bit the inside of his cheek at the genuine hurt in Logan’s voice and dug through the mug cupboard. “Look, it’s fine, just…look it up if you’re not sure. It’s not like I hide my cookbooks.”

Or, better yet, be a capable adult. Logan’s sneakers shuffled on the linoleum. Where was his goddamn mug? “D’accord,” he finally said. “Yeah, I’ll—I can do that.”

Was it bad that Leo wanted him to push harder? Maybe he was just jonesing for a fight, but Logan’s instant buckling made him feel even worse. They had been waspish with each other earlier, enough that Finn outright refused to be in the same room until they figured themselves out—perhaps Logan had worn out his ability to argue for the day.

Leo snorted humorlessly. That would be a first.

Pastel yellow caught his peripheral vision. He clenched his hands on the edge of the countertop and took a deep, fortifying breath. Throwing a mug at a wall would get him fired. Throwing things at Logan would never be something he did, in this life or the next, no matter how angry he may or may not be.

Leo plucked the Me-Wow! mug from it’s place—dirty—in the sink—also dirty—by its tail-shaped handle and dropped it in the trash, then walked out of the kitchen, leaving Logan and his coffee behind. Thunder rumbled overhead and guilt bubbled up. He shouldn’t leave like that, not when the storm was only going to get worse. Logan didn’t do well alone and upset. He had almost certainly left his headphones at home, too. Leo was never the one to leave but he just couldn’t take it—

He made it ten feet down the hall before the lights went out and silence doused the building.

Fuck.

--

James was not live, laugh, loving in these conditions. First of all, his best friend/ best man/ adopted brother was imploding with self-loathing for approximately the seventh time this week. Second, his wife’s best friend/ best man/ adopted brother was a nervous wreck despite his best attempts to keep himself together. And third, two of the rookies had worked themselves into a tiff that made Finn look like that.

Finn watched Logan leave after Leo in utter misery. Poor kid belonged in an ASPCA commercial.

In truth, James didn’t know what went wrong, exactly. Sirius had these cycles—he’d ride high and be so firm in himself, in what he loved and worked for, then crash so hard James expected it to leave visible wounds. It was far more frequent in the early days. Since Remus entered the picture, Sirius hadn’t spiraled more than a handful of times. It was like he needed a pressure-release valve to make sure all those internal works didn’t melt or rust over. Remus was better at getting Sirius to talk than just about anyone. It was shitty that Remus’ wan smiles and sickly pallor had to align with the exact time Sirius most needed someone who wouldn’t put up with his nonsense.

James did his best, but he wanted them to be happy more than anything. More often than not, it meant he didn’t push nearly enough. They all had bad habits.

He knew Coach would bring it up today. Sirius’ dark mood had set them all on edge, caught in that place between wanting to prove themselves and wanting to stay out of the way. Whatever was happening between Leo and Logan had brought the scrap of good mood to rock-bottom. There was only so much slack James could pick up without exhausting himself, and he was already at the end of his rope.

Talker was still fussing with his sock tape when James looked over. The stickiness was dead from his rhythmic wrapping and unwrapping, but he didn’t seem to care. James nudged his toe with the front of his skate. “ ‘Sup?”

Talker half-shrugged. “Not much.”

“You were good in the scrimmage today.”

His hands stuttered on the roll before evening out again. “You, too.”

James scooted over into Remus’ stall and lowered his head, turning slightly away from the center of the room for an iota of privacy. “You wanna talk about it? If this is about the pass—”

“Noelle can’t make it for my birthday.”

Oh. Oh. James’ heart sank. “Aw, buddy.”

“They’re in the playoffs and someone rescheduled.” His lips pressed together in a tight line. “It’s dumb, I just…”

“Miss her,” James finished when he trailed off.

Talker nodded. “Distance sucks.”

“I know.”

James tried not to be offended by Talker’s immediate skepticism. “You do?”

“Lily stayed in Boston for three years before transferring up here.” Worst three years of my life. “She wanted her BS in chemistry. I wasn’t going to be the schmuck to hold her back. We called, and FaceTimed, and texted when she was at school, but it—”

“Wasn’t the same,” they said in unison.

The ball of tape fell pathetically next to the trash bin. “I want to hug her,” Talker said. “It sounds so stupid, but I want to hug her. And—I don’t know, it’s been rainy today. She likes it when it rains.”

“Yeah.” James leaned over to bump his shoulder. “I hear if you cross your fingers and jump in a circle three times, your wishes come true.”

Talker was halfway through a laugh when the lights went out.

--

Oh my god, I went blind. The thought was wild and harebrained and ridiculous. So, precisely how Remus was feeling in every other aspect of his life.

“Oh.” Sirius sounded surprised. His hands were firm on Remus’ upper arms. “Bonjour.”

Remus blinked a few times to let his vision adjust to the sudden darkness. The remnants of the team’s shouts of surprise echoed briefly before going quiet. “Uh, hi,” he managed. Sirius was nothing more than a blob of shadow, but he felt along his arms and chest until he found a shoulder to pat. “Sorry. Power’s out?”

“Looks like it.”

“Huh. Did you…did you need something?”

Sirius shifted from foot to foot. “Uh. No, not really.”

Liar, but okay. Remus patted him again, and let his hand linger. The rink felt different like this. Low murmuring had started up again in the locker room, but everything else was grave-quiet without the familiar buzz of electricity. It felt like the heartbeat had stopped. Like they had paused in time. “We should—should we go back to the locker room?”

Sirius’ hands pulsed where he held Remus. “Sure,” he said with the reluctance of someone being asked to walk headfirst into the ocean.

Lightning cracked outside and Remus caught a glimpse of Sirius worrying at the inside of his lip in the brief light. “We can stay here,” he offered after a moment. “Or, like…go somewhere else for a bit.”

“Can we?”

The relief in Sirius’ voice ached. They had been so pent-up lately, neither willing to break the ice first but both suffering from their shared bad moods. Remus knew he had been more lost in his thoughts than down on Earth for days, and Sirius was being so…so Sirius. But not his Sirius. The Sirius that was twitchy, the Sirius that tossed and turned all night. The Sirius that barely finished his dinner.

Remus rolled the sleeve of Sirius’ shirt between his thumb and pointer finger, and pulled him in for a hug. His stiffness dissolved in an instant.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into Sirius’ collarbone. He smelled good when Remus took a deep inhale, laundry soap and cologne. His arms were strong and solid around Remus’ back—he felt a few deep breaths come and go under his palms and inclined his head to let Sirius’ bury his face in his neck. His hair was damp from his post-practice rinse. It tickled Remus’ nose along the wings he liked to play with when Sirius was sleepy and cuddly. He sighed again. “Sirius, I’m so sorry.”

“I wasn’t there for you this week.” Sirius’ breath warmed his neck. His hold on Remus tightened. “You don’t need to be sorry, loup.”

“Okay,” Remus said softly. “But I am.”

“If you’re sorry, then I’m—” Sirius broke off with a tired laugh and nuzzled further into his neck. “I don’t know. Throwing myself at your feet and begging for forgiveness.”

Remus snorted at that mental image, but held him closer anyway. “It’s okay. I know you don’t like feeling like this.”

“I don’t,” Sirius agreed. “Doesn’t mean I should stop paying attention to you.”

“I’ve been doing the same to you,” he reminded him gently.

“You had a reason.”

“And you didn’t?”

Sirius fell quiet. His fingertips slipped along the divot of Remus’ spine while his palm warmed the small of his back; Remus felt a bit silly, standing there in his socks in the dark, but it didn’t really matter when he could feel Sirius’ heart beginning to even out at last. Someone padded out of the locker room and down the hall. Red hair stood out for a half-second when lightning struck again and his worry eased. If Finn was going to check on his boys, everything would sort itself out.

“I hate that this still happens.” Sirius’ voice barely cleared a whisper. “It sneaks up on me, and then I can’t sleep and I’m not hungry—or, I am, I just can’t—and I don’t know when it will stop.”

“I know, baby.”

“I want to sleep next to you and not be thinking about the next game, Re.”

Remus slipped his hands beneath Sirius’ arms and pressed their bodies together like he could press reassurance into him. If he could take that burden, he would. If he could fix it, he would. If he had the right words to tell Sirius that he didn’t care whether he was perfect or a wreck, he would. He pushed his nose under the soft spot of Sirius’ jaw and kissed him there. “I love you.”

A small sound stuck in Sirius’ throat.

“Je t’aime,” he repeated with another kiss. Just because he could.

The rise and fall of Sirius’ shoulders was steady now. “Je t’aime aussi. Whatever you need for this week, I’m here, okay? I’m in your nook.”

“My…nook?”

“Your—” Sirius huffed a laugh. “I’m on your side. Whatever the saying is.”

“In my corner?” Remus suggested around a smile. Sirius grumbled something vaguely agreeable and swatted at him, but never loosened their hug for a second.

--

Leo was holding him, and he wasn’t even angry anymore. Not like he had been. Thunder rattled a distant window and Logan’s grip twisted in the front of his shirt. “I’m fine,” he said.

Leo kissed his temple. “Yeah.”

They lapsed back into silence. He was usually so good at problem-solving, but every time he tried to speak, his tongue got stuck on the words. The anger had burnt itself out. The frustration and annoyance were still there, alongside the hurt. He wished Finn was there. Finn always knew what words to use.

“I’m sorry,” Leo said haltingly. Logan shifted in his arms. “I was shitty to you. Earlier, I mean. I should have talked to you.”

Logan didn’t answer. Somehow, that was the worst outcome. Leo knew how to match him in a verbal fight.

Lightning flashed. Logan flinched. Leo held him like he alone could stop the light from taking his boyfriend by surprise. That was it, wasn’t it? Even pissed off, he’d still hold Logan rather than leaving him in the dark with a thunderstorm.

They didn’t speak, just swayed in place. Footsteps echoed down the hall, growing closer each second before coming to a halt in the doorway. “Babes?”

“Here,” they chorused softly.

“Um.” Finn audibly hesitated. “Okay, give me a landmark. I’m so blind right now.”

“By the countertop,” Leo offered. Logan burrowed deeper into his chest. He was fever-hot the way he got when he was upset. Finn’s noise of sympathy when he found them and felt it somehow made it worse. “Hey, Fish.”

“Hey.” Leo heard the sound of a soft kiss. “Lo, you good?”

“Ouais,” came the murmured answer.

They lapsed into silence for the length of another roll of thunder. “And you…” Finn faltered. “You figured yourselves out?”

Leo looked away despite the darkness. They remained silent.

“Right,” Finn sighed.

“I don’t know what I did,” Logan blurted. “You said this wasn’t about the rutabaga, but it is, and you said you’re not angry, but you are, and I’m confused. And I’m really sorry for whatever I did to upset you, Peanut. I’m being so honest right now.”

“That’s the problem,” Leo said helplessly.

Logan clutched at his shirt, as if the answers were hidden in the fabric. “What?” he asked. “What is the problem? Stop doing that, I told you, I’m confused. Are you angry?”

“A little,” Leo choked out. Ugh, honesty was sawdust in his mouth.

“Is it about the rutabaga?”

“No.”

Logan made a frustrated noise, but Finn cut him off before he could continue. “What is it about, sweetheart?” he asked, so gentle it burned.

Leo let out a long breath, unwinding one arm from Logan’s waist to wrap it around Finn instead. He was nice and cool from his shower. They had all been running too hot lately.

“I’m not your mom, Lo,” he began. “We’re all grown-ups here. You know what food looks like. You know how to google things.” He felt the feelings ramp up again and rather than swallowing them back, let them siphon out on an exhale. Everything inside him was a miserable, knotted mess. “You don’t need me to come to the store with you all the time, and it pisses me off when you keep asking because I’m—'better at it’, or whatever. It’s not my job to shop for you. I’m sick and tired of it.”

Logan’s chest caved against his own. He mumbled something under his breath and Leo closed his eyes.

“I can’t hear you when you do that, c’mon, please—"

“I said, it’s not because I need you to shop for me.” Logan’s voice shook slightly, but not with anger.

“Then why would you ask me to walk to the store with you for the ‘right garlic’?” he sighed.

Logan raised his head, leaving a cold spot on the left side of Leo’s chest. “Because I want to spend time with you.”

That—was not the answer he had been expecting. You’re better at it, Logan would say. You know the foods better than I do. The realization came in waves; he had been teasing. Joking. Making it a bit. And Leo thought he was dead serious the whole damn time. All the frustration he had built up around himself cam down with a rush and a clatter. His heart made a break for hell with a pit stop at his stomach. He stared into the dark nothingness of the rink break room and tried to remember how to breathe.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“I…” He broke off. Words had gotten him into this mess. Were they both that terrible at communicating properly? Finn bumped his arm and he took the hint (for once), wrapping Logan in a hug. By some miracle, Logan hugged him back. “That is the sweetest fucking thing, and I’m so sorry,” he managed, hoarse. “Oh my god. Oh my god, Logan, that was such a fucked-up thing for me to think.”

“I do actually like you, you know,” Logan said, muffled in his shoulder.

The remnants of Leo’s heart went for another spin through the shredder. “No, I know, I know, I’m so sorry. I like you, too.” He pressed a hard kiss to Logan’s temple and squeezed him tighter. “I like you so much. So much.”

“And I know what kind of garlic you like.”

Tears made Leo’s eyes sting and he violently wished them back. He had no right to cry over this. None at all. “Of course you do.”

Logan scratched lightly between his shoulder blades. “I don’t want to think about the type of people that made you think I’d do that, though. But if you want to give me names and addresses…”

Leo laughed weakly and felt Finn huff against him. “No, none of that,” Leo said with a kiss to Logan’s messy curls. He kissed his cheek, too, and his lips for good measure. Slow and easy, the way they both liked it. He wanted to make sure Logan was paying attention. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “You did nothing wrong. I love you so, so much and I never should have thought that about you.”

In the hallway, the whir of generators kicked up. Soft light cast Logan in gold and dull shadows, just enough to make out the conflicted look on his face. His thumb was rough against Leo’s jaw. “I wish you thought better of yourself,” he said quietly. “You’re fun to be around, even walking to the store.”

I wish I had thought better of you. Leo pulled him close without a word and caught Finn’s gaze over Logan’s shoulder. His expression told him everything he needed to know, and he shut his eyes as Finn’s arms came around them both. A kiss lingered just above his ear. Leo kind of wanted to cry all over again.

--

The generators were a masterpiece of mechanics. The emergency switch flipped the moment the building lost power from the main grid, pooling energy around the rink itself to keep the ice solid. The rest of the lights would come on within fifteen to twenty minutes, beginning with the stadium seats and ending with the more fringe areas, like locker room and kitchens. They were top of the line, the best you could buy for a massive space that relied heavily on electricity to keep it functional.

They were no match for the Lions.

Ice cream, popsicles, and enough beer to cover the team twice over were liberated from the various refrigerators in less than five minutes. The team gathered on the floor of the locker room with iPhone flashlights and glowsticks (also ‘borrowed’ from the adjacent rooms) to enjoy their haul in peace and to play stupid, silly games like middle schoolers at a sleepover. They played games for a living, for crying out loud. Their favorite game. Why on earth would they take it too seriously when an opportunity like this presented itself?

Equal cheers and groans went up when the lights came back on. Moody was the first to leave, having only stuck around that long because the space outside his office door was occupied with an apparently necessary conversation. Arthur was next. The general consensus among the players was that the weather was simply too bad to risk driving. For their safety, they should stay and enjoy their goodies.

The morning security shift found them right where Arthur left them, puppy-piled by their stalls and surrounded by joyous havoc.

[windvexer]

hi, im really new to witchcraft and I've been interested in delving into planetary Intelligences and ig basically the idea of calling spirits (if that's the right word) to help me out. but honestly everytime i think about actually doing it i feel really really afraid. do you have any advice on how to stop feeling so uncomfortable? i just kinda feel afraid that I'm gonna piss something off and everything is gonna go to shit

Hi anon! Welcome to the wonderful world of witchcraft and spirit work ^-^

I think this is one of those things that doesn't go away with an easy answer.

Depending on where you're from, many of us were raised with deep fear of spirits and witchcraft, or even just the occult in general.

It's not wrong to be afraid, and fear itself can have a complex and powerful role in witchcraft; but I believe that's aside the point of someone trying to get into witchcraft and going "oh no! What if these forces are actually malevolent assholes who can't wait to tear me to shreds the very second I flub a line?"

But fear is information, right? One solution is to start learning and internalizing new, more balanced information, to help temper this response.

Gaining information can include things like:

Reading books from authors who work with planetary intelligences, who are able to speak on the personalities and behaviors of these intelligences

Linking up with other practitioners in a group setting and learning about their experiences

And eventually:

Performing rituals you're comfortable with and gaining information through experience

As far as I'm concerned, planetary magic is pretty decent to start out with. The planets are good guys, they're forgiving, not really all that uptight, and the magic is effective and powerful.

Some people might say, just jump right in! Start with a developed system and use the rituals of people who have done this thing a lot and have specially prepared rituals for beginners to try out what they want to try. Get over your fear by plunging in.

Which, sure, definitely do so if you'd like to.

But on the other hand, if you'd prefer to explore your fear a little more and gain balancing information first, why not do that?

Ultimately, I really don't think anyone out here should be working with beings they think are going to cause major shit if they get a little bit pissed off.

Recently I was speaking to a friend who voiced some concerns about spirit work, especially the possibility of making spirits angry and therefore aggressive. My response was, yeah, that's fine if they do that; accidentally pissing someone off is a normal part of interpersonal connection.

For example, imagine you run into a mother and her baby at the grocery store. You strike up a brief conversation, and overtaken by how cute that little baby is, you say, "what a cute baby!" and you grab and wiggle it's little foot.

The mother, reasonably, says, "no. Stop touching my baby. You shouldn't touch my baby."

And based on her expression, she means it.

So you say, "oh my gosh! I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me. You're right, that was inappropriate."

And she chills out and then the two of you follow each other on TikTok and trade information on farmer's markets.

So it's kind of like this in spirit relationships, too. Anger and aggression aren't bad. When you go over the line, a shift in tone that encourages you to get back into your lane isn't bad.

It's information; it's telling you that you shouldn't be doing that. It's information that you choose how to act on.

The problem is if you choose to work with spirits who then decide to put you through shit if you do anything to ever dare piss them off, no matter how innocent or accidental your mistake was.

Which... don't work with spirits like that. And the planets aren't like that.

I dunno, I piss my spirits off. Not on purpose, but it happens. I pissed off my Initiator just last week and got lectured for a half-hour. I pissed off Mercury (planet) real bad once too. And he was just like, "ok, well... don't you do that again >:|"

If you're afraid of working with a category of spirits (like, planetary intelligences), ask yourself if there is any category of spirits you would feel comfortable with.

If your conclusion is that any spirit might start big shit with you if you make a mistake, then that information I suspect would reveal more about you than the spirit world.

Yeah. Work with the planets if you like; they're good guys. Take a step back and immerse yourself in things a little more if you feel the need to. Work with different spirits instead if you like. But I suspect that there is no single key that is going to resolve this for you. Big Fear Of Spirits is a big fear to transform.

[grepfrutmeat]

very messy and probably a little misheard notes from liquid mercury twitter space below the cut

the return of kyler and marter twitter space, later changed to liquid mercury (and possibly something else idk)

was kinda late not sure by how much. maybe 10~ minutes

martin is still blown away by something

-kyle says he cant wait for thing to happen (evil laughing)

-its one guy (..) suit

-talked about terrified fansong, martin really dug it

-felix felix you motherfuckwr (twf the musical

-we should make a really bad walten files musical

-we did that- “felix where are my kids da da da”

-joke twf musical

-fucking. imagine dragons okay martin.

-??? SET IT OFF WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING OKAY MARTIN

-eva mentioned about the three characters holding beer bottles together how she made a joke that its norman felix and Rory and people thought it was serious

-but rory is not real..

-martin “who the fuck is that”

-”you gotta stop listening to me. i lie” -eva

-it is now revealed lily is charles daughter

-it was so hard to keep it a secret

-accidentally mentioned on space but nobody noticed until like one person

-he dies on her birthday …

-knowing what happens to this character,

-being able to talk about “bon” is weird.

-martin loves this spectre

-g man comparisons

-martin had 2 inspirations for spectre, one being calculated how hal 9000 (i have no mouth i must scream guy??) expresses emotions like batman riddler, (the batman)

-eva made it subtler

-I WAS FUCKING RIGHT ABOUT THE BON FELIX PARALLEL IM WINNING IN WINNING

-”perhaps what i am is not as important as what i can offer you” pinnacle of bon

-handing boozoo mask to charles?

-what if bon is from the futureeeee (okay martin.)

-most of episode 4 was made a couple weeks ago lolll

-this episode is a miracle

(missed a bunch here)

-charles lines are really good

-the scene ;) the highlight of the episode

-episode 6 at his best

-progression of susan + charles va improving

-episode 6 is a turning point, traumatic event for characters one specific one.

-episode 6 gets as close as it can be to being a nightmare

-not analog horror scary, but like a chaotic nightmare that shouldn't be happen. horror movie-esque

-everything that can go wrong goes wrong, like a real nightmare.

-arin hanson nightmare. barnacles.

-episode 6 high stakes

-”bon” - fe lix (bon says felix at some point? woag maybe) , martin says he likes how bon says felix

-eva (spectre( has a monologue in 6

-episode 6 is awe some

-maritial status. divorced

-martin talks about charles divorce

-in 1974 he's divorced, recently divorced.

-his ex wife is named emily. divorced a few months before shit happens

-if Charles didn't go missing they might have resolved their relationship

-small bit talking to Emily in one episode. charles still loves ex wife but it didn't work out.

-charles close friends with ex wife but don't work as a couple

-martin says charles feels like what jack and felix could've been.

-charles is selfless,

-felix and linda split up would be better as friends cus they're not good as a couple

-charles knows this about his relationship but felix doesn't think this about his

-martin loves charles ;3

-he's already my favorite

-eva likes charles susan dynamic (i hear u)

-theyre two sillt friends having fun!!!

-dynamic war.

-(joke) “heyt guys. in the next episode. rory appears. and kills bom” “it was all a dream” “susan marries linda and Charles raises his kid and jack finds his kids. and is found” he was hiding in a box” (trumpet sounds)

-susan and charles are better friends than jack and felix

-jack and Felix don't get along as well as real friends. business relationship.

-kyle quotes jerma lolll

-felix and jack written as people that seem friendly and social but are isolated in their own ways

-jack is only entirely honest with rosemary

-felix just doesn't

-felix tries to hide addiction from jack and

-felix sees jack as someone he'd like to be, looks up to jack, affectionate to him and envious, wants to be on his good side so doesn't say anything to him. which is why jack didn't know.

-sophie jophie and jenny jophie joke…

-theyd rock paper scissors over last names

-jenny is better than sophie at rock paper scissors. lettersons.

-sophie would change to sophie Letterson like 100%

-highlight of the month was liking jelix art and everybody noticed …

-”jelix sloppy making out” “DONT SPOIL SIX” (joke)

-joke about charles looking horrified cus jelix making out in felix office lmao

-boozoos voice slightly tiny tim-ish COOL

qna part

-spectre is freakishly tall, skinny michael meyers

-spectres voice changes a lot, sometimes silly, depends on what he's saying/who he's talking to.

-spectre wont hide his motivation but he won't reveal it outright, he won't sit down and explain what he's doing, he’ll just do it.

-chris appears in photos, isn't really mentioned. Chris is someone who knows how to turn a situation in his favor, go-getter. has interesting dynamics with main characters later in series

-kyle can't wait for people to see what happens with Chris

-long way to go to show it, but chris apparently has a really cool design later on (1982)

-cant wait for people to see his role in 1982 . martin can't say why

-no correct understanding of chris but some people have very different expectations of who he is.

-chris is a silly-serious blend, similar to charles, less naive

-all they can say

-charles fact: something really fun about charles, he will always put his kid first more than anything. he brings her to work a lot (not gonna see this in series tho) everyone would play with her. dress up as pirates. :)

-felix would tell lily santa doesn't exist. LOLLL

-cant say something spoiler…

-G ROUND BREAKING REVALATION: FOR CONTEXT. Brian stells was the first human character to speak in twf. back in 2020. people would ship brian stells and sophie walten. but it was wrong angle. because yesterday. came to the realization. that brian would be into middle aged single mothers (technically rosemary…)

-brian would try to hit on rosemary??? and jack would grab his shotgun and shoot at him. okay martin. jack is a good shooter ??

-canon brian is jesse pinkman

-chris is more season 4-5 jesse pinkman.

(missed a lot)

-showstopper lore bon and banny friends but like. only cus bon wants to save face

-cybertelly would be the showstoppers lawyer

-felix fursona with glasses and suits (kyle says bon is just like felix)

-sha js rose’s fursona. rosemary is a furry.

-4,5,6

-linda only talked to susan cus they were good friends but not rosemary. linda would've told susan she was leaving.

-felix scene on the river was hardest to animate cus it was in a lighter place, but with felix its lit up middle of day

-potential actual showstopper show ?? 11 minute episodes

-rosemarys favorite character was sha. but billy if not sha, rosemary loves clowns

-ed molly fun fact: they liked playing pong. martin thinks ed would be mischievous and do pranks, between sophie ed and molly he'd be the most rebellious. molly would be more like “ed you cant blow up the school that's not right”

-molly was very behaved. best behaved walten child.

-rosemarys sister laura in season 2. rosemary doesn't like her family and doesn't really speak to her mom or sister much.

-jacks favorite drink is ramasote or wine, rosemary likes champagne, sophie likes mojito “i think drink does not just mean alcohol”

-mollys is pepsi. eds is liquid mercury. jacks favorite drink black coffee or rumcoke. jack would have a gallon of rootbeer.

[kaija-rayne-author]

I wrote something hard today. It's long. Please mind the content warnings, this one is heavy.

We Must Remember

ON DECEMBER 30, 2023 BY KAELENRHY/Kaija Rayne

Content Warnings: AIDS epidemic, queer death, queer abuse, child abuse, child neglect, mention of attempted rape, sexual harassment in the form of catcalling and whistling.

My generation of queers, the ones who came of age in the middle of losing most of a generation of our queer siblings… we don’t talk about it.

It’s got to be pretty obvious why we don’t. I can’t think of a queer person who knew they were queer who didn’t lose someone. And we all lost when it comes to some people. Freddie Mercury, for one, the lead singer of Queen. He died a day after announcing his diagnosis in 1991. He was 45 years old.

And there were so many others.

I’ve been aware of the lack of people who lived through it talking about this for a while. But it really brought it home to me when I asked my eldest, who is openly queer, if they knew what the AIDS quilt was. They didn’t. And generally, they’re interested in queer history, so tend to be better informed than a lot of queer youth about our collective history. It helps that I was a history teacher at one time and have always lived and breathed teaching it to anyone willing to learn.

So, here’s a story from a time I hope never to see again, but one which, when I look at the world, I deeply fear is coming back.

The moral panic we see now is like déjà vu for people like me. It was this exact same moral panic that caused medicine, and most of humanity, to completely ignore it as loved ones died. To treat human beings without the care or respect any human being deserves simply by drawing breath.

I grew up in the mountains in a very Christian cult-like atmosphere. It was honestly so close to being an actual cult. There really is such a minuscule difference. But it wasn’t an official cult. Just… very poor people backbiting each other any way they could. Praying like good people on Wednesdays and Sundays, but doing anything they wanted every other day of the week. You’d think with all the mountains around, they’d have anything better to do than gossip. But gossip ran as life’s blood. The internet didn’t yet exist in private homes in that piss hole in a snowbank. There were 3 churches in the town, and 6 bars. For 300 people. The closest store was a good 20-minute drive away, the closest library an hour.

Christ, it’s hard to remember these things. It’s been 33 ish years since this story happened in real life, and I still don’t want to revisit it.

But it’s important.

The memory of this day is ingrained on the inside of my skin. I can almost feel the heavy summer sun.

Sad Summer Day

I’m around 14 years old. I’m barefoot, because my family doesn’t see the point of buying shoes for summer wear. Feet toughen up just fine.

I’m wearing a fourth or fifth-hand t-shirt that is far too see-through and cut-off jean shorts. The tickling of the strings falling against my thighs as I walk is a soothing sensation to me. I’m finished with my chores, the horses are cared for, the dog fed, the abusive younger sibling has stopped screaming and throwing things at me because I wasn’t a suitable big sister and had gone to hide in her room. I’m an embarrassment to my allistic sister. I’m an embarrassment to my mother too. If she ever crawls out of the bottle long enough to give a shit about anyone. My brother lives elsewhere.

I stink. I don’t know that or understand it, but I stink. Getting clean means swimming in a scummy mountain lake most evenings. My mother hasn’t taught me anything about personal hygiene. She smokes like a damned chimney and always smells of booze. There is no way I don’t smell bad. We had bath nights once a week in the winter. The only reason I knew my period was a thing was school health class.

I hang around in the barn a lot. Or in the ancient maple tree in the pasture. Ar Bazara is my beautiful Arabian mare. Her hide is the stunning red of particularly vociferous sunsets. She often patiently lets me lie on her back with a book open on her rump while she grazes. My new goat, Esmerelda, is still adjusting to not being the house goat she was used to being. She’s miserable, mourning her friend and old life. I do what I can, but it doesn’t help very much. Goats grieve as much as humans do, maybe more so.

It’s my job, and escape, to walk to town and get the mail for my father, who works more than not, and can’t get to the post before it closes at 5pm. I have no idea when or if my mother will come stumbling in blind drunk.

I hope to see my friend, who lives at the top of the road to the post office. He hasn’t been feeling well. Wrapped up in a quilt in his mother’s rocking chair on the porch is how I’ve been finding him lately. It’s not very odd, it never gets truly warm in the mountains, so people in heavier clothes or a blanket around their shoulders isn’t uncommon. I think nothing of it.

He’s a relatively recent addition to my life. He moved into his mother’s house last year. Esmeralda had been his, but he’d asked me to take her last week and love her like he did. I really don’t see it coming, or maybe I don’t want to add up the clues.

He’s my only friend there. He looks much older to me, but in reality, is likely in his late twenties. He wears dark tortoise-shell rimmed glasses, always has interesting books to read and ideas to discuss. He’d made it out of the mountains, so has seen so much more of the world I long desperately to experience for myself. His butterscotch blond hair is always a curly mess, and he’s always running his hand through it. I hope I can sit on his porch steps, picking at splinters, while he tells me another story. I’m not supposed to talk to him. No one does in that town. We might catch it, if we do so much as look at him. But I like him, and he treats me like a combination of younger sister and wild animal. He always speaks in such a gentle, calm tone. A tone I never hear at home. Except for the day he gave me Esmerelda. He couldn’t talk through the tears he was trying to hide.

My aunt lives next to him and warns me away every time she sees me. I suppose she likely told my parents, but my parents either aren’t there or are drunk. He’s the only adult in that town other than my grandmother, who even sees me. Much less talks to me like I’m a person. My aunt is happy enough to take his money to make an extra portion of food for him when she cooks for her family every day. She drops it off on the porch and will only take the dishes back if they’re soaking in bleach water when she comes to get them.

I’m tanned dark brown. My mother kicks us out as soon as the snow melts and we’re expected to stay out until dusk. But I’ve got my summer colour, my hair is frizzy from the yearly perms, and sun-bleached. The stench of lemon juice in my hair is still strong, but I know better than to not use it every morning. Having my mother yank the black, spiral hairs out of my head hurts worse. But I hate the smell of lemon juice in my hair.

It’s a short walk to a mountain child. Though if you’d called me a child then it would’ve infuriated me.

I am still a child, a very naïve one. I only know the words gay and lesbian because I’ve read the OED cover to cover. But they’re nascent, formless concepts to me. I’m in the midst of my first crush. A girl in my class with the prettiest brown eyes and lush, curly hair. But, I’ve told no one.

There’s sand on the sides of the beaten-up tarmac of the road. I’m avoiding walking on the road itself because prickers from wild roses and blackberry bushes are vastly preferable to burnt feet.

In shade areas, the mounded sand is cool, a treat to dig my toes into, and there’s a place where rain makes interesting patterns in the sand. I stop there for a short time to look at the swirling patterns in that section. It’s different every time it rains.

The air is heavy, like a wet wool blanket, presaging another evening rainstorm. I cuss because it means I won’t get to swim that night. If I want to rinse off, it’ll be in the cold rain. Hopefully, there won’t be thunder. Loamy earth and the particular faintly metallic scent of slightly damp, lichen-covered stone coat my tongue with a musky taste. The lighter, higher sweet honey note of spreading dogbane makes the walk smell like a slice of heaven. They’re poisonous, of course, but they’re beautiful and one of my favourites. Bunchberry shows little red splashes of colour. Orange hawkweed is blossoming, and so is the milkweed. Soon there will be so many monarch butterfly caterpillars I’ll have to watch where I step. The unnatural stench of old, oft-tarred tarmacadam adds an unwelcome element of human activity to the interesting scents.

The forest sings, murmuring to each other with the slight breeze that’s the only coolness I’ll find unless it rains. And the creaks and groans of the poplar and birch trees provide a symphony. I walk by my grandmother’s house. She’s outside tending to her flowers and checking the bird feeders, so I wave instead of meandering over. My grandmother loves to talk. I’ll stop on the way back. I’m later than usual going to get the mail because of my sister’s abusive outburst.

My hands are stuffed in the far too small front pockets of my shorts. My hand is tightly wrapped around the mail key. I always hold it in my fist, my father says it’s a trust, and I don’t want to blow it. A hopped-up pickup truck with a custom paint job, jacked tires, and glass-packs roars by. The boys inside and riding on the bed cat call me, but I don’t understand it.

By this time in my life, my mother has dived into a bottle and never looked back. She taught me to drink on hanged man’s bridge when I was 11. Vodka. She’d already moved on to vodka from wine by that time. In a lot of ways, I didn’t have a mother anymore, if I’d ever really had one at all in anything other than the physical sense.

It’s 1990. Big hair is falling out of fashion, but I still have the perm that my (at the time) stick-straight hair needs to look like Bon Jovi.

It’s mid-summer, the sun is high in the sky and it won’t get dark until after 9 pm. I won’t have to go inside until 10. The voracious bugs are preferable to listening to another argument. And Gram will let me in and likely feed me. Maybe my brother will be there.

As long as I’m on my father’s or grandmother’s land by dusk, I don’t have to go inside. The crab apples aren’t quite ready, but I pick one to eat, anyway. The bitter, tart juice is still green-flavoured, but it fends off my hunger. I didn’t get to eat my food; I cleaned it up from where my sister had thrown it at the wall and took it out to the hens. I wonder if they like grape jam?

It’s not the first time I’ve been hungry. Hunger is basically my ground state. So much so that I don’t even feel it when I’m hungry.

I pause on hanged man’s bridge. Just for a moment, while I warily scan the church parking lots at the end of the road.

They’d kicked me out when I was 12, but if the minister sees me, I’ll get scolded for breathing. I’m lucky, the lots are deserted and I continue on my way.

There’s no tree cover here, but there is down by the water. The beavers are busily building a dam that the men will burn come fall. It makes me sad because I can see kits with their parents. Beaver has a lot of fat in the fall, so it’s good meat.

I turn left at the end of the road and walk past another not-so-distant relative’s house. I stop for a moment to pet the Percheron workhorses who obligingly hang their heads over the fence so I can pluck handfuls of fresh green grass for them. Their slobber on my hands is green, but it doesn’t register as anything other than something to wipe off on my butt. I love these gentle giants, but the sun is lower in the sky, so I hurry on. I pass two more relatives’ houses. I have a tendency to walk with my gaze on the ground, partially to make sure I don’t step in anything, but partially in hope of finding a new, interesting stone or a bone for my collections.

So, I just… don’t notice. I’m in my own head a lot, working on stories. I started writing 3 years before.

There’s a sharp, rattling sound I associate with caster wheels and I look up.

My friend isn’t on the porch and he can’t tell me any more stories.

The glaring canary yellow of haz-mat suits screams brightly from his faded house. They look like aliens to me. Fierce, terrifying aliens. We don’t have TV, or rather, we don’t have TV reception, so the only reason I know what the suits are is because of my long habit of reading encyclopedias.

One of them is roughly handling his body as the other wraps a second roll of cellophane around him, over and over. They’re great yellow spiders as they finish wrapping my friend in cellophane and put him on the emergency bed from the ambulance. There aren’t any lights on, it’s turned off, and the driver has his booted foot hung out the window while he looks at a playboy. He whistles at me and winks. I hear one of the aliens say the body bags are too expensive to waste on trash. One of them fetches a floral sheet from my friend’s home. They wrap him in that.

I stand there like a rock has landed on my head.

I’m mute. I can’t even make myself move to go yell at them for laughing over my friend’s body and trading slurs for him as if it’s a game. Even if I were brave enough to confront adults. Which, I am not.

They very carefully take the gurney to the ambulance, avoiding all possible touch with the cellophane cocoon. The straps are so tight around my friend’s body that if he could feel them, he would have cried.

The doors make a doubled, muffled thump and the engine of the ambulance starts. It jerks me into movement, but I’m too late. They drive off.

They haven’t closed his kitchen door. So I do it, thinking in that odd way that he’ll be sad when he comes back to find it left open. I never have seen inside his house and I don’t breach his privacy as I close the door.

I have no way to lock it, and he told me he hasn’t any family left.

I step quickly down the top of the searing hot grey metal culvert cover to my aunt’s large backyard. I’m grateful to not run into my cousins. One of whom has already tried to rape me. I can fight him off if I have to, again, but all I need is to escape. I hopscotch across the brook and into the old potato field. I leap like a yearling deer from one mound to the next before I can disappear myself into the forested lands on my dad’s property. I practically live in the forest, and my friend’s habit of treating me like a wild animal isn’t off. I am.

The next thing I clearly remember is hugging Esmerelda’s neck, finally understanding why he’d asked me to take her.

Finally understanding a lot of things a 14-year-old probably shouldn’t have to think about.

I never did get the mail that day. I had to scour the area I’d walked to find the mail key I’d always been so careful not to drop.

Years later, when I was 19, and I’d escaped those fucking mountains, I was in university and doing very well. The only semester I didn’t hit the president’s list was the semester I had mono, and I still made dean’s.

I and a couple of others had recently been thrilled to get the B added to the LG group (lesbian and gay). Bisexual erasure is still prevalent, and it was worse then.

It was meeting night for the club, and one of my friends, one of the first openly gay men I knew while understanding what that meant, had a square of heavy white cloth. He explained it was for a project to remember those we’d lost to AIDS.

I took it home to my dorm room that night and feverishly embroidered a little grey goat wearing a green collar and a shiny gold jingle bell. I’ll never know why he named her Esmerelda.

The last time I visited those mountains, just before our move to Canada… I walked over with my eldest on my hip to look at my friend’s house. The door gaped open like a missing tooth in a smile, but no human scavengers had touched anything. (In those mountains, scavenging is a way of life. It’s a testimonial to their prejudice and discrimination that his home wasn’t pillaged.) The roof had fallen in at some point, always a danger in those mountains, from the weight of snow. The porch step I’d sat on to listen to his stories had fallen off and lay almost rotted through. I stood there looking at his house for probably longer than I remember. They’d closed the post office. The workhorses had been sent to make dog food when the man of the house died and his widow couldn’t care for them. Pound for pound selling them to the butcher was more practical.

My mother sold Ar Bazara just before she left my father. My beautiful mare had died at her new owners from pneumonia not long after I’d graduated high school.

Fall asters bloomed, making shockingly bright splotches of colour around his house. No one would even go close enough to do the neighborly thing and mow the tiny area of land that went with the house. Perception was everything to those people. It wouldn’t do to be perceived as less than a ‘good Christian’. So it spoke volumes that no one had shoveled the roof or mown the lawn. The only way people survive up there is by banding together when needed. My cousins may shoot each other (true fact) but they’ll band together if someone threatens from outside.

My grandmother was gone. Still with us in the flesh, but Alzheimer’s took her from us long before she actually died. She didn’t even remember I had a kid.

My father had cut the ancient maple tree I’d loved so much for firewood years before, sometime when I was in uni.

There weren’t any horses anymore. Esmeralda had gone. She never recovered. The sweet, gentle goat I’d agreed to love turned vicious and mean. I didn’t know how to help her and no one I dared ask could help. My father made me get rid of her when she butted him in the knee.

I kissed my little one’s head when he reached up curiously to touch a tear on my cheek. I doubt he’d ever seen me cry before that. I don’t cry easy. My therapist has me working on relearning how to cry.

That isn’t a problem right now. I can barely see to type. No matter how many years pass, I can’t forget the tearing, sticky sound of the cellophane as they wrapped my friend up. I can’t forget the things they said about him while wearing those stupid haz-mat suits. Which they hadn’t even been wearing correctly. I can’t forget and it’s so bloody hard to remember these things, much less talk or write about them.

Within my lifetime, we’ve seen amazing changes in queer rights. But I, and a lot of older queers, are watching the current political climate of the world and… we could so easily lose everything we’ve gained.

Trans people are always the canaries in the coal mine; always the ones sacrificed first. They will come for the rest of us.

If you’re queer, don’t ever fall into the trap of thinking it’s ancient history. I’m currently 47. This day happened 33 years ago. Don’t fall into the morass of thinking our rights can’t be stripped from us.

They can. And I fear, deeply, that they’ll strip our rights from us again. We could so easily fall down the slippery slope until all of us are disrespected as my friend was. He died alone. And I suppose I should be grateful my aunt noticed right away, that anyone noticed at all. He was a pariah. He’d come home to die after his partner did, only to face massive social exclusion by people he’d grown up with. My aunt only fed him for the cash. Even then, barter was still common. Hard cash wasn’t always easy to get.

I went to the cemetery to try to find his grave and plant some flowers on it. I found where it was supposed to be. Right on the very edge next to the pine forest. Just a slight depression marking what was likely a cheap pine coffin, if they even paid him that much respect. There wasn’t a crematorium anywhere close by. So they’d stuck him as far away from the other dead people as possible. As if the dead could catch it. We didn’t name it. It was the illness variety of the boogeyman. If you don’t name it, it can’t find you.

Starflower had grown to cover the area, so at least I know every spring he has a blanket of small, ethereal white flowers. We lost most of a generation of queers due to medical negligence and reprehensible cruelty from humans to other human beings.

But these stories shouldn’t die with us. Queer youth need to understand what we lived through so they don’t get too complacent. I’ve fought for queer rights since I was 14 years old.

My eldest can just be openly queer. Something I’ve never been able to be except for a few short years in university.

I don’t want to see us lose our rights again.

I don’t want another misunderstood, abused, hurting queer kid to have to watch as their only friend is wrapped in cellophane and denied the honour of a body bag. Denied the honour of a decent grave with a simple headstone.

We’re already losing queer rights. Please don’t be complacent.

Phew, so… I’m a sobbing mess. If my work of words touched you, please consider a tip or becoming a patron. We live in poverty. My husband is recovering from one of the likely three back surgeries he needs for his broken back. We have two autistic/ADHD kids and finding a job is impossible. I’ve been looking since January 15th, 2023. I have $50/$1220 I need for rent for January. We can’t get any government aid because I’m an immigrant.

Far too many queer creatives live in poverty. I’ll do a series of these memories as I can. They’re very emotionally difficult for me to write, but I feel they’re very important things.

http://ko-fi.com/A630KKM

https://www.paypal.me/KaelanRhy

[ccbeeduo]

for the ask game :0

sootbur jaihera and quackbur maybe

GRINNIGNNR

Sootbur since you didn't specify Which One i'm going to do revghost because they are my favourites

What made you ship it?: Honestly. i think we've shipped it for literal ages but the only reason we started being an Active shipper of revghost is because of two headmates (mars (revivebur) and mercury (ghostbur)) being absolute FAGS so we just kind of embraced it What are your favorite things about the ship?: I love how they compliment each other in opposite ways. The easiest way to describe it is like Complimentary colours. A sharp red to a soothing blue. They're so different but they work perfectly together. I like how they would have complications due to Ghostbur hearing so much about the bad things Alivebur did (and very little of the good, if i'm recalling lore correctly) he would probably not have such a great idea on what Alivebur was even actually like. But in my personal hc (and fictive source memories) i feel that when Ghostbur actually met Alivebur in limbo he might have gotten to see what made Alivebur even do all that shit. He'd understand. Ghostbur would give Alivebur the patience and respect he'd needed. And Alivebur probably wouldn't have liked Ghostbur at first, maybe he would have been hostile or rude to him, but Alivebur would have realized that Ghostbur would not have been out to get him, like he had assumed everyone was. I don't know. They're kind of silly to me Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?: I don't have any unpopular opinions i can think of off the top of my head so i'll just say they fucked in that train station

q!Jaihera

What made you ship it?: I'm gonna have to blame the headmates again. q!Jaiden and q!Baghera fictives fell in love and well now we're collectively insane about canon Jaihera What are your favourite things about the ship?: MAN I DON'T. EVEN KNOW HOW TO WORD IT. I can barely focus on any qsmp lore so this might not be as long since i literally have no idea whats happening ever. Anyways They're the sun and the moon and they're each others' stars. When they met they were immediately attached to each other and, assuming i've remembered the lore properly, they grew up as literal child experiments together. They've bonded. They've literally had to go through the Horrors that is QSMP Purgatory together. They've gone through so much and they've stuck together, of course minus the fact q!Baghs has been missing for.. quite a few weeks now. I'm really excited to see them reunite when Baghera comes back to qsmp, and when QSMP comes back in general. They've got a similar-adjacent? trope of Complimenting each other like opposite colours, but it's more of a Soft yellow compared to a deep purple. They've got the same wants and needs and they work together to get it. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?: i think the ship itself is an unpopular opinion. it's like me and 5 other people who ship it and im like the only /r jaihera shipper

c!Quackbur Doing c!tnt because i don't have a lot to say on qtnt SORRY . she her pronouns 4 cwilbur in this btw

What made you ship it?: I mean. Have you seen them. I've shipped them for literal years i don't even remember what made me start in the first place What are your favourite things about the ship?: GODD literally everything. i wish i could word it in a comprehensible fashion but they are SO terrible for each other in the best way possible and i love that for them. cWilbur is the lamest girl around and cQuackity decided that He Needed Her. Silly tone tag. Q met Wilbur when she was planning the fuckinf election party or whatever it was and he started his own Party Just to Piss Her Off. They're like. Unstoppable object vs Unstoppable object. They piss each other off to no end but they are actually STUPID in love with each other and it's so entertaining to think about. Fuck you @ sootings for the "psychocompetitive" relationship LOVE WINS YOU FUCKINF COWARD!!! I wish i had more to say but GGAAHH i'm crazy and cannot makr comprehensive thoughts about them at all Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?: It's not really an opinion on the ship itself, it's more of on the people that ship it, but While i absolutely adore cQuackbur, i do not particularly like how a lot of the quackbur fans make liking wilbur Quackity's Only personality trait. Like. He is a very complicated character and while yes him and wilbur are gay as FUCK that is not his only character trait and i do not enjoy how cq is treated by a lot of the fandom

(ask game ask game ask game PLEASE send me asks for this)

[transfem-monarchist-laura-rolla]

seeing a lot of theories about what will be revealed about suletta in witch from mercury season 2. what i want to know is what happens to guel?

this episode confirms that he ran away to join the ship that happened to be hijacked by the terrorists under an assumed name, only to go out in one of their mobile suits and kill his dad when his dad went out to fight the terrorists. that looks shady as shit, right? he even has a motive, he’s lashing out at his father for disowning him and wants revenge on the system after losing miorine and his place in it

even if his crewmates vouch for him, if you’re outside that ship it looks like he ran off to join the terrorists, infiltrate the ship so they’d have a man on the inside, and then joined in the attack, and he just happens to be a good enough actor to fool these people for a few days or weeks. i think he continues to have a very bad time, and in season 2 he’ll be on trial or in jail or something

[winderlylandchime]

Hello, happy Monday. I am here to provide a tiny update on my brother’s Halloween costume. Because obviously the man went an extra mile. He went to the store yesterday after we got home for some last minute shopping and you guys, he bought condoms. Bunch of condoms. And because he did get a tiny bit worried that my friends are, and I quote “fake gay and wouldn’t know the icon Brian Kinney” (keep in mind he is in a robe for one costume and a suit for the other) he decided to print out a bunch of tiny pictures of Brian in the robe and Brian at prom. And he made it look like a business card. So basically it was two photos one by the other on one side and on the other side he wrote ‘Brian Kinney’ and under it ‘the face of God’ and then under that it said ‘no excuses, no apologies, no regrets.’ So that was basically his costume. He briefly considered writing down some of Brian’s lines and only speaking to people by quoting him but he ran out of time (thank god). And since this neighbor lives like two houses down, the suit stayed at home. Anyway he knocked on the door in a robe (he wore shorts underneath!!!) with the coffee carafe (it had actual coffee inside that he drank throughout the furst half of the party) and when my neighbor opened the door, he immediately pulled out a condom and the fake business card to give it to her. And he did that to literally everyone! Some people recognized it after they saw the “business card” but only the neighbor who turned 50 a few weeks ago recognized it immediately and my brother gave him two condoms bc ‘one is a requirement and the other is a reward for being awesome.’ And then halfway through the party one of the neighbors was like ‘where did your brother go?’ And I had no clue where he was and then like 10 minutes later he walked in the house dressed in the suit with the white scarf and i was standing next to the neighbor who recognized his costume and this fucker walks up to us and looks at me and i could just tell that he was thinking of the Brian/Daphne scene and that he really wanted to quote it (he watched the ep again before we left for research). And he made this grossed out face and went ‘ugh…you being my sister ruins everything because i was going to ask *does exaggerated air quotes* your date for a dance.’ And then him and the guy went to dance. EXCEPT the song that was playing was Shut Up by Black Eyed Peas and he was dressed as Brian at prom and the neighbor was dressed as Freddie Mercury in Break Free and honestly seeing that happen gave me at least 10 extra years to my life. My whole family was laughing at the videos of them dancing because at first they tried to do the slow dance since they obviously knew it but the song didn’t fit and when my brother TRIED to dip Freddie, his fucking wig flew off and my brother went ‘oh shit. My bad Mr Mercury’ and then put his wig back on but it was backwards and they were both laughing too hard to continue their slow dance to the upbeat song. So obviously that didn’t work. So they started to dance in a really bad way because my brother is still not 100%, so by accident he was doing a great Gale dancing impression and my neighbor started to really badly twerk while dressed as Freddie. And later while we were talking, “Freddie” goes ‘quick question, how come you didn’t put fake blood over the scarf?’ And my brother looked as him as if he just kicked a puppy in front of him and in a very soft voice went ‘too soon, man. Too soon.’ And one other neighbor who doesn’t know qaf went ‘apologize now! Look what you did! He looks like hes about to cry!’ So that was kinda how the party went. Thankfully by now everyone in the neighborhood (mind you it’s not that many people. Maybe 20-25ish people all together?) knows that he is obsessed with qaf and Brian so at least they weren’t freaked out by him and probably even expected some bullshit. Which he obviously delivered.

Oh my goodness! This totally made my Monday morning!

I love that he had business cards and condones and an actual carafe of coffee. I love the idea of prom!Brian dancing with Freddie Mercury (and I’m very glad he didn’t say to you “looking good [name] I’d fuck you” and I am dyingggg over the question and his reaction to “why didn’t you put blood on the scarf.”

I’ve never done a qaf inspired Halloween costume. This is new levels of fandom unlocked.

[ofstormsandsaints]

❤ - voice

✮ - sleeping habits

✍ - writing style

For both of them!

questions are from this post if anyone else wants to participate

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞

in this post, I theorised how his (singing and talking) voice would sound like - as a choir kid, he kept some pretty good singing reflexes after all. But overall, Marion's voice is rather mellow and warm, close to Reiji's deep modulated tone but more French and -oh surprise- less snooty.

𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬

listen, he has a fucking alarm programmed and attached directly onto his brain. No seriously, he could have spent the worst week of his existence; long hours of training, even longer hours of studying, the weather is shit, his sisters fight, mercury is in retrograde, he stupidly accepts every and any mission given to him, spends the night away out in town, hunting or partying like Armageddon was near but all in all, he will always, always wake up between 6:45 and 7:10am. Like??? what kind of superpower is that?? You can imagine his sleeping schedule is an obscene mess. And this bitch doesn't even have really bad eye bags. Give him a good resting night or two and he'll be fresh and ready to live life to the fullest with a perfect smile. how dare he.

But yeah, back to his sleeping habits. Very simple: he is sound asleep when laying on his right side, an arm tugged under his pillow, topless most of the time (maybe he'll wear a cotton tee on cold nights), wearing a dark blue short that is probably the softest piece of fabric in his closet (he's been using for years the same softener that gives a fresh, subtle scent of lilac and pear to his clothes). Always tries to aerate the room before going to sleep, even in winter. The colder, the better.

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞

Marion should have been left-handed but his dad never allowed him to use the 'Devil's hand' - he was taught (forced) to learn how to write with his right hand. He actually was quite precocious and knew how to read and write basic words before he even started school.

But whenever he would reach for a pencil, a brush or a fork with his 'wrong' hand, his dad is here to slap it away and then stand next to him, sternly judging if his son kept on obeying - thus his current handwriting : it is not that bad, but you easily understand that now, Marion's writing style is all about effectiveness and quickness. Writing is a nuisance, he just wants to be done with it.

Careless letters, hurried yet nonchalant airy loops, one time well spaced, another tighter, depending on his mood, his pen sometimes barely touches the paper and he will not take the time to correct it if the word is wrongly used or barely decipherable. Being out of school for such a long time didn't help either - it in fact worsened the problem making it very tough for him to properly take the time to write a proper paper and not a rubbish mess.

The only time when his ambidexterity shows is when he's painting - only painting though, he sketches with his right hand.

𝐙𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐚

𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞

Hauntingly clear and powerful.

Zorya has a very stable ambitus and a considerable amplitude - her voice is an instrument for her. She plays the silvery charming tones and the lower intimidating notes alike. It is a voice for assemblies and intimacy.

Posed and mastered. She never needs to shout.

The voice of a leader and a teacher. Somehow low, there is a strange, celestial coldness to it. thrummed consonants, purred syllables. an omen hides behind her every words.

Ending sentences in hushed tones, her breath carries an uncanny wisdom.

(please, don't ask for a voice claim, I already know I'd hate doing research on that)

𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬

She is an extreme light sleeper. The faintest sound, touch or smell can wake her up. A theatrical queen who adores sleeping in silk, linen, or even completely naked to be honest.

Zorya has a spasmodic sleeping schedule :

two hours of sleep. wakes up. has a walk and looks at the stars' journey. back to bed with a book and an herbal tea. a bit of sleep. rises anew (with the sun even if it is different in the demon world). works a few hours. sleeps again. repeat.

Even though she adapted it over the years, Zorya is still disciplined on a certain routine; especially regarding beauty and health care, shadow work and spirituality. Whether it'd be oiling, combing and braiding her hair, rearranging her ointments, channelling her magic - using joss, taking care of her physic garden, cleaning her stones and jewellery and blades while chanting in a forgotten tongue, she's mostly alone. She has the time.

Sleeps on her side or on her back. Never on her stomach. After so many years, the scar still hurts oftentimes.

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞

If her voice carries a large amount of power - dear heavens, you don't want to know what her hands can create.

Friendly advice ('tis for you Marion): never, ever try to open one of her books without her permission.

In fact, Zorya could have never learnt how to write in the first place. Oral tradition was predominant at her time - even among the old demonic races. But her mother taught her how to read and write as she knew it'd be useful in the future: the highest spheres of power were always the ones holding this knowledge after all.

Naturally left-handed which was convenient because for a long time, the official language of the demon realm was in a right-to-left script (like in Hebrew or in most Arabic languages). But she obviously adapted over the time. - The writing system evolved mostly during the second era of Founders' hegemony. With the rise and establishment of clans in determined territories. A national sentiment grew in spite of their allegiance to the First Bloods and they all developed their own dialect, declined from the high demonic alphabet. The centralisation of knowledge spread beyond the Founders' territories and knew its fastest assimilation in the Vampire Clan first (thanks to Karlheinz's former friendship with Giesbach and Krone), then the Adlers, Viboras and finally the Wolves.

Zorya mostly remembers the sibylline curves and sharp lines of the northern dialect and nowadays, her handwriting looks like if Cyrillic and runic alphabets had a fancy child.

[ghostboyjules]

about me

omg tagged first by @mathomhouse-e and then right as I was abt to post this @wordsinhaled tagged me too!! so delighted and honored to be in this wonderful group of mutuals, y'all make my heart warm 💖🥰

Nickname: Jules, I guess, counts? other than that I don't really have a current one... @weirdfishy has been calling me ghostie tho, which I absolutely adore 🥺💕

Sign: Aquarius Sun, Aries Moon, Gemini Rising (Cap Mercury, and if y'all wanna talk astrology my dm's are always open lmaaoo)

Height: 5'7 or 5'8 on a good day (a.k.a when my sciatica isn't elbow dropping me to death)

Last thing I googled: "piercing places" and before that, "images of a shrimp" which I'm including because I thought that was very funny

Song stuck in my head: surprisingly I don't have one up there right now?? well.. I guess kinda,, but it's like a mix of a couple. All Up In Your Mind by Beyoncé, Genghis Khan by Miike Snow, Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac, and In a Week by Hozier.. weird combo of songs but they're kinda cycling through my brain like a weird spirit box-esque radio station

Number of followers: 713 (😳, most of these are like, weird bots or deactivated blogs but still woah..)

Amount of sleep: hmm generally I get anywhere from 3-7 hrs, but as of right this moment (10:38pm) I've had 4hrs 36mins of Actual Sleep (from last night to when I woke up for work this morning) and then a 2 hr nap (before I started dinner this evening)

Dream job: Archivist of Some Sort™ in the Library of Congress,,, with a specialty in Thanatology?? I don't really know the specifics yet but something along those lines ig, if at all possible

Wearing: ..... a gray Cowboy Garfield t-shirt with the phrase "when I die I may not go to heaven. I don't know if they let cowboys in." and black underwear (THESE ARE MY PAJAMAS, OKAY? had to include the undies so you would get the Look™, I can't just say I'm wearing a t-shirt and leave it at that obvi... ajdjakfkg)

Movies/books that summarize you: my brain can't decide which way it wants to take this, so I'm just gonna answer with the Books/movies that I feel has shaped who I am as a person, currently. LOTR & the Hobbit trilogies, The Raven Cycle series by Maggie Stiefvater, the Conjuring (only the first one 🔪), Spirited Away, and The Labyrinth. OH SHIT almost forgot, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children.

Favorite song: this changes daily 😐 rn tho I think probably Blood Upon the Snow by Hozier and Bear McCreary

Favorite instrument: Pipe Organ, Cello, Bass Clarinet, and the voice

Aesthetic: uh... weird goth gay uncle who is lazy and also a witch? is that anything?

Favorite authors: oof alright, well. Maggie Stiefvater, Neil Gaiman, Nora Sakavic, Gege Akutami, Lemony Snicket (Daniel Handler), and a handful of Fanfic Authors that I won't list here because I'm terrified of forgetting someone, but know that I am absolutely counting them and will forever remember their names

Random fun fact: I really love playing guitar hero games but I've never once really tried to learn how to play the guitar

thanks again for tagging me, you two 🥺🥰🥰 y'all have already tagged a lot of the peeps I would have tagged in fandom (so if I tag you again, my bad beloved homies just ignore me lmao), but let's see here... @weirdfishy, @watermelon-mafia, @rabooots, @aquilathefighter, @leave-me-alone-doctor, @eel-divinity, @an-asuryampasya, @pacospandora, @rainbowvamp, @runningheadless, and @howlittleweare <3 WHEW no obligation to do this at all obvi, but if you don't, this is just a reminder that ily 😘 if you do tho, I also love you 💖 okay g'night, loves

[elminx]

Energy Update: New Moon 01° Sagitarrius

On Wednesday, 11/23, we will be experiencing our first non-eclipsed Sagittarius new moon since 2020. There is a lot of energy in the planets right now, so let's start with some bullet points.

Sagittarius is our mutable fire sign and is ruled by the planet Jupiter

The 01° new moon will be trine to Jupiter in Pisces (though off element)

Jupiter goes direct on 28° Pisces on 11/23 as well

Mercury and Venus will join the new moon for a powerful stellium

Mercury and Venus will be trine to Chiron in Aries

retrograde Mars will be trine to Saturn in Aquarius and square to Neptune in Pisces

Altogether, this energy combines to be a mixed bag. There is a lot of potential within this energy (coming from our benefic planet Jupiter) but there is still a lot of pain in the air. This makes some sense if we've been paying attention - we're coming off of an extra-intense eclipse season on the Taurus-Scorpio axis which activated our fourth and final square between Saturn in Aquarius and Uranus in Taurus. A cycle has ended but most of us are in the licking-our-wounds stage of recovery. Every time that Chiron gets activated by our personal planets (in this case both Mercury and Venus this week and the Sun next week), you can guarantee that some of the personal and collective pain points are close to the surface. This isn't a bad thing so long as you can get past the idea that "pain is bad". Not all of us can, unfortunately; rather than face the pain, we instead hide from it or take steps to mitigate it rather than address it.

If you are on a healing journey - physically, mentally, or spiritually - personal planet aspects with Chiron are the perfect time to focus on that work. If, on the other hand, you are disassociating to hide from your pain, this week is likely to be a hard one to experience.

Jupiter is the great embiggener - it expands everything that it touches. This is generally considered to be a good thing and highly positive but it is also possible to focus on and enhance the bad things in life, too. The combined energy of Jupiter + Chiron calls on us to address rather than repress; in fact, it might remove our ability to repress altogether! It is worth noting that as Jupiter stations direct on Wednesday, it will begin its forward journey towards Chiron in Aries which is only sitting 14° away at this point. We are working towards this inevitable conjunction between these two powerhouses - what comes up now is merely a preview of what we can expect to experience when they meet.

That is to say, the energy of this week - overall - is demanding that we deal with our shit. People who are avoiding this (for whatever reason, valid or not) may have a tough go of things. You may very well be forced to confront something that you have been trying very hard not to look at. With Saturn involved, through our action planet Mars, you can guarantee that it is for our "best interests" though it may not be enjoyable in the moment.

Here again, we look back to Jupiter and the sign of Sagittarius. Light-hearted Sagittarius has an important lesson to teach the world - how you approach things matters. Sometimes life is a piece of shit and when it is, it's really easy to fall into the pattern of EXPECTING life to be a piece of shit. If instead, you can say to yourself: this week, I need to shovel shit and do this work so that next week, I can play; then you are tapping into these energies well. The big flex this week is to dig into where it hurts rather than turning away from it. The big flex this week is to tell the fucking truth, even when it hurts (that's a Sagittarius specialty). The big flex this week is in understanding that the shit that you shovel now becomes the manure with which your future grows.

As we enter this new moon energy - this first uneclipsed new moon - we have a chance to start something new. There haven't been very many of these since January of 2020. We've been in a holding pattern for a really long time. Now's your chance, but it comes with a bit of a caveat: use it wisely.

Do you like my work? You can support me over on Kofi.

[multitrackdrifting]

G-Witch Episode 21 Thoughts/Theories [Spoilers ahead]

These are the predictions I've made for how the season will play out

Fake Death [this one's still possible]

Guel to Gundam Schwarzette (to be fair, this is the most enigmatic Mobile Suit in a very long time so it was just a guess that he would get it as a "power-up", but since he's still firmly about protecting his father's legacy, despite not really knowing what this means in its totality [as shaddiq pointed out]).

Guel Jeturk will go through a redemption arc since the plot has been building him up to that since the beginning. He has not actively hindered the girls' ambitions since like episode 4, which is why it was kinda funny to watch people hate on him every week. The difference in his reaction to rejection/failure in romance is completely opposite to Shaddiq's so I'd say that as the meme goes "the lgbt+ community has forgiven guel jeturk" - fun fact, most of my friends that are lesbian viewers of this show love him even before his episode on Earth hahahaha.

Shattered idealism (this one is a free one)

Datastorm/permet relationship is somewhat AI/Matrix-esque. Basically confirmed with how Quiet Zero works.

Prospera Mercury will die (or fake her death)

El5n redemption arc (it has begun)

Another thing I'd like to point out is that Gundam IBO didn't reveal a second season until the first one ended. This is not the final season.

Shaddiq is extreme, but he's meant to be. He's not exactly likeable when it comes to Miorine, but his moral highground I guess lies in what fuels his convictions, not the totality of them (i.e. a very idealised/faded picture of the world). I don't agree with what he did, but Char did things that were just as bad so I was kinda whatever about them - not saying it was right I'm just saying that it's pretty typical gundam shit.

Suletta not worrying as much and just doing is a good reflection that she's learning to have faith in her convictions, and while that's kind of a small feat, given that a lot of doubt had been cast on the person she was.. it's a big step to living without needing to know how it will affect others, more than just like, knowing "I want to believe this is the right decision". Hence, she hands out her [Mio's] tomatoes. A nice way of showing her growth without it being really forced.

A lot of people want Martin to die becuase he threw a wrench into the plot but it's just like, guy is just a tool for the narrative to advance, I have no strong feeling about a kid trying to do the right thing even he doesn't understand the socio-political implications. That's whatever considering that they were gonna have somebody take the fall, may as well be him.

QZ is functionally a WMD. It's purpose is to envelop the Earth in a storm where Eri can live and be free (this is what the others speculate anyway, Prospera may be interested in enveloping the entire universe with it, who knows).

The Datastorm in my eyes is like, if the permet concentration over Earth is that strong and its just permanently stuck like that, then yeah nothing can really do anything to it since a lot of tech in the universe is permet-based, and I would liken that to "trying to use a raw current, to stop an overflowing current". The information can flow freely on Earth, but sacrificing the Earthians and everyone overall to achieve this goal is the mark of a true villain.

The space Assembly League appears to be a U.N.-esque consolidated space-power, this is all-out war. This was Shaddiq's gambit to have the group destroyed - it was helped by Prospera Mercury's actions on Earth.

Their fleet was annihilated by Quiet Zero's web made up of the mini-MS.

At the beginning of GUND-ARM inc. it was just a bunch of people operating what they believed would be a medical equipment company, but they were more-or-less arms dealers. This has never been in doubt, marketing the Aerial, getting to collaborate with others to mass-produce Gundams, that was never ever about medicine. I don't like phrasing it like this, but Mio's idealism about the future was only allowed to take her this far because Delling let it.

That's not to shit on her intelligence or whatever, but the very explotiative and rat-race structure of the Benerit group meant that his word and confidence validated her company more than what it functionally stood for. The episode where GUND-ARM inc. is shown to be celebratory but it's largely just "the status quo being held in-tact with feigned friction". This is how I always took the company.

I like the Earth house and the kids wanting a better future, but the very exploitative world they live in with war-sharing on Earth is clearly fucked up. It's just funny to think "yeah my company is the one non-arms-dealing company in a company largely about security/war tech" built on the subjugation of Earth and privatisation of MS technology.

They did have some technologies they believed could help mankind, but you know, who is selling syringes as well as assault rifles.

Quiet Zero is a device to create gigantic data storm to envelop the earth. The Data Storm concept itself seems to borrow from the New-Type Destroyer and psycommu hijacks from UC. tl;dr Gundam Unicorn can hijack funnels (what bits are called in UC), and other newtype technologies but Unicorn itself can straight up control time but let's not get into that.

This one a lto of people are extremely heated about, but I have always said that Eri is the one that can shield Suletta from the Data Storm. Even though the "download" Ericht does burns Suletta, it's not the same as piloting the machine since she was interfacing with Aerial itself.

Eri can't shield her from the curse.

Schwarzette, I believed would not be Suletta's even after it got shown because it is the last piece of Guel Jeturk's link to his father. I believe he will get the curse despite him being my favourite character (and I have been rooting for him since he showed sparks of brilliance n Episode 3).

Suletta knows that El4n isn't alive.

Petra is alive, people theorised this would be the case given that there's a shot of prosthetic legs in one of the previous episodes - she will be one of the first cases of someone getting prosthetics besides Prospera on-screen.

Lauda to Schwarzette is the wildcard I did not know - I predicted that someone else who wasn't Suletta would take on the curse, but I didn't know it would be Guel's half-brother.

It seems that Guel will be the grunt-suit specialist, Lauda will pilot Schwarzette and Suletta will pilot Caliban.

The whole "surprise" new Gundam shit doesn't bother me because it's a series trope, it's not something borne out of a relation to The Tempest.

This is an extremely heavy handed reference to the old-world weapons developed in secret that being Unicorn = Calibarn, Banshee = Banshee & Phenex = Aerial. The third one was known to anyone who even knows about Gundam UC.

People were fairly in denial about this concept, but my final prediction was that one or both of Miorine and Suletta would become enveloped in the Datastorm mostly because of how red:birthmark plays out visually. They're not on the same realm until they're contained in Eri's hands, in an aetherial world that doesn't look like the space outside.

The Schwarzette to Suletta theories, while commendable were mostly based on the idea that they wouldn't let someone who is going to die from the curse do that which is provably wrong given that Sophie died from it in the first episode and now this episode itself has shown that Suletta isn't permet resistant, Eri herself was the one protecting her.

A lot of the events of MSG The Witch From Mercury are not new nor are they like, uncharacteristic of the series and its themes.

I think some people were getting frustrated that suletta has a slower-cooking characte arc but the protagonist should always have the longest run of development in a story like this. Like yeah, you can give characters big surges in development, but Suletta is tied in a gordian knot to Aerial, Eri, Prospera & Miorine so it's only going to go as fast as the overarching plot moves which is not over so of course it's not going to be cathartic in episode 20/21 as opposed to episode 25. Suletta is doing a lot to grow it's just in the subtleties as opposed to some cool one liner or a victory lap with her MS. Besides, she's getting a new MS and it's not Schwarzette so we have the stage set for ideals, self, existence & family to clash swords in a battle grown laden with the bodies of the innocent.

Suletta will have the last, and best character ending because her's is the one that spans 25 episodes, not 8 or 9 episodes.

As for the next four episodes:

Prospera Mercury probably dying (there is a non-zero chance she might live since people fake-die all the time in Gundam).

Lauda taken by the curse OR Guel is killed in battle (temporary death).

Miorine reunites with Suletta at the end of the season (I theorized that separation would be a recurring theme during this season).

Miorine's eye is blown up, however, I think this visual metaphor in the ED is more of a narrative kind of thing where she's lost one eye because she's had her ideals completely dismantled by inadvertently staging a false-flag attack more or less. Doesn't really matter that she didn't know that it would happen, her very character is lamenting everything that's happened in this episode.

Suletta hasn't really shown the same level of like social awkwardness and has a lot more confident body language in the last two episodes, I think that she will have a much firmer resolve to stop her mother if it means Eri & the kids can be free.

I'm not really that into theorycrafting but those are my remaining predictions.

I don't know how this show will end, I don't know if SuleMio will get their happy ending, I don't know if one or both of the Jeturk brothers are dying and I don't know who makes it out of this one alive - all I know, is that we got some good Gundam each week and I'm not gona argue with some people about it every week.

Oh, also, Suletta will get the curse if there's no filter - remember what Olcott said and the repeated references to a lack of care for pilot safety throughout the series.

Every single part of season 2 has been peak fiction. I'm enjoying the ride, so let's enjoy what it has to offer.

tl;dr - QZ = permet disrupting field, Suletta doesn't actually have permet "resistance" as Eri did not either, Lauda to Schwarzette, Miorine has PTSD from the attack on Earth, Suletta has strengthened her resolve and largely shed her self-doubts especially in Episode 20, Petra alive, Gundam Caliban is probably Unicorn, Schwarzette is Banshee, and Aerial is Phenex [tl;dw - ghost in a Mobile Suit].

[casliveblog]

Custom Toonami Block Week 183 Rundown

The Witch from Mercury: It’s been two months since Suletta beat Shaddiq and Miorine’s off doing PR shit and business meeting being your standard Single Female Lawyer type badass businesswoman, but she’s trusting Suletta with her most important tasks at home which makes her happy. As testing goes forward there’s sort of an underlying anxiety among the club-like initial corporate group that Miorine’s gonna turn it into a for real company and get rid of them and all their high school antics (and honestly in terms of pure utilitarianism she probably should, like these guys are not very good at this, but for sentimental reasons we’re gonna treat that like it’s a bad idea). Meanwhile there’s a plot to kill Miroine’s dad from inside the Fortune 500 amd Shaddiq’s dad is just like ‘that’ll never work count me out’ but Shaddiq hears about it and hires up the Lagoon Company from earth to go help kill him which happens to involve hijacking the spaceship Guel’s currently serving out his Chazz Princeton rich boy humbling arc on so that’s kind of a lot. Meanwhile meanwhile, Suletta’s really excited about giving little phone charms to Miorine to share with her and I’ve watched enough anime to know anytime an anime schoolgirl skips down the street giggling about how great something will be, something is about to go horribly horribly wrong. There’s a New Fake Ceres and apparently this one’s the horny one because he just comes right onto Suletta saying that Miroine’s basically enlisted Suletta into a loveless political marriage like the Clintons and he wants to be her Monica Lewinsky so yeah that’s all kinds of fucked up and I feel like I’ve very much aged myself with that reference but I stand by it. Suletta’s a good lesbian and tells him to fuck off and even she notices the changes in him despite being a complete idiot to social clues so this guy’s not doing a very good job at acting. Turns out the worst is yet to come though as Miorine’s back and has hired people to take care of all the domestic shit she was having Suletta do and even hired Ceres to split the product testing workload with her (though if I remember correctly the Cereses can only pilot Gundam stuff by sitting on cockpits of broken glass and having bodies enhanced to resist broken glass so idk if that’ll hurt the company’s numbers or what). So this is actually a really good dilemma, like from Miorine’s perspective she’s been putting too much on Suletta and wants to make sure she doesn’t overwhelm her because she does care about her and Suletta is kind of a flighty ditz so you don’t want to give her too much, but from Suletta’s perspective Miorine’s taking back all that trust she put in her and devaluing their relationship and saying she’s not needed. It’s like Suletta’s a housewife and Miorine hired a maid but Suletta likes doing housewife shit and doesn’t wanna sit around drinking brandy and complaining about the neighbors, it’s a neat little conflict where you can see where they’re both coming from and I quite like it. Ummm also Prospera’s meeting with Miorine’s dad so hopefully she doesn’t get caught up in the Lagoon Company assassination attempt or else we’d be out the only two parental figures our main characters have.

Inuyasha The Final Act: Following up on last time, Kaede confirms that the will of the Jewel itself is what’s sealing Kagome’s power now that she’s become too strong, similar to how Midoriko’s will sought Kohaku and Koga being absorbed in order to make the jewel whole and purify Naraku, there’s a lot of Jewel Shenanigans in the back half of this series. Meanwhile demons are challenging Sesshomaru because he’s got no weapon, one arm, and a kid with the last jewel shard with him, but luckily Sesshomaru’s so overpowered he can literally beat 90% of the cast with one hand rotting in his father’s grave. Still, now we get the big reveal that Naraku’s working with the evil part of the jewel itself, Magatsuhi and Naraku’s just like ‘you better get off your ass and do something or else the good guys are gonna win’ because Naraku will literally do anything to get out of fighting for himself. So Magatsuhi uses part of Naraku’s body to basically possess a chunk of him and become a pseudo-incarnation and like… for the big bad of the series, mastermind behind the corruption of the jewel and murderer of Midoriko, this guy’s mid as fuck like he has genuinely no aura whatsoever and is not much of a physical threat at this point in the series, shown by his main strategy being literally immortal and hiding behind the peanut gallery so Inuyasha can’t do his big AOE attacks. He does manage to corrupt Kohaku’s shard and knock Kagome out with Conqeror’s Haki but like unless you’re specifically Sesshomaru working at 25% power he’s not very threatening. Still Sesshomaru shows off that he has healing powers and always has but is just too stubborn to use them and transforms into his Full Demon form, where Jaken confirms a long-standing theory I had as a kid that Full Demon Sesshomaru is the peak of his physical strength but sacrifices his aura and strategy which is why Inuyasha was able to take him down so easily in like episode 4, it’s just a big strong punching bag. Still, Sesshomaru can injure Magatsuhi’s ghost form with the Tenseiga, but it isn’t strong enough to hurt his physical body so he’s swallowed up, going through an existential crisis with Inuyasha shouting at him that he’s stupid if he’d rather die than be shown up by the person he gave his technique to and we don’t actually see if but Sesshomaru does let go of all of it, his attachment to the Tessaiga, the mildly shitty thing his dad did to him in getting him to make a new ultimate attack for the main character, and his renewed compassion for the people around him, culminating in the formation of the Bakusaiga, the ultimate in badass swords ten times stronger than the Tessaiga’s base attacks and with the added ability of poisoning any regeneration attempts, it’s so fucking broken it sounds like something someone playing Inuyasha on the playground would make up and I love it. He blows away Magatsuhi’s physical body but the ghost escapes, leaving Kohaku’s shard no longer unobtainable by Naraku and Kagome in a fucking coma so between that and the powerup it’s kind of a wash.

Castlevania: Trevor’s feeling some existential angst about going from being a wandering brigand to being a pair of wandering brigands in a healthy relationship and has a nice little talk with the mayor about both of their worries until both they and Sypha’s group see carved symbols around the town, now these aren’t all the same symbol like claiming the place for the Hell Sympathizers of the Priory but they’re different symbols so I’mma go out on a limb and say they’re either runes for a ritual or markings for where key positions of a more formal takeover/sacrifice will be. Alucard’s still off training his Japanese sword twins and is just having fun being a pseudo-father figure to them and again I’ve seen enough anime to know when something will likely go horribly wrong. Sypha confronts Saint Germain about him sneaking around the Priory with glowing rocks and once they meet up with Trevor he eventually admits he’s after the magical multiverse portal that can cross space and time and Sypha and Trevor come to the obvious conclusion that the demon that landed in the Priory is using said magical multiverse portal to unlock unlimited power and exert influence over the cultists and Germain’s just like ‘well fuck, I didn’t think of that’ despite having all the pieces way longer than these two have, like come on man.

Konosuba: So about that Kazuma rescue arc… yeah, not gonna happen. Kazuma’s enjoying his life in the capital and being the scumbag we all know he is (though honestly not as big of one as he COULD be, still pretty bad though) and he cultivates the Onii-chan relationship with Iris that he’s always wanted. It’s interesting because we actually do get a good look at how the war against the Devil King is affecting the world at large, even Kazuma’s like ‘somebody should do something about that’ even though HE’S the one supposed to be doing something about that, which is pretty funny. Eventually the gang DOES come to get him back once he’s been a bit too indulgent but they agree to stay for one more night so Iris can say goodbye. During the party Darkness gets hit on by a bunch of obnoxious flowery guys talking about how pretty she is in increasingly ostentatious ways which this may be me thinking too much about it but maybe she’s just a masochist because everyone spends so much time kissing her butt she’s literally bored of all the ways they invent to say how great she is and pain and degradation are somehow more ‘real’ to her, like if people are always lying to your face with good things you’re bound to feel like the bad stuff is the truth, but again that may just be me headcanoning too hard. Kazuma picks up on how uncomfortable she is and livens the mood a bit TOO much and gets kicked out, where Iris finds him and talks about how she knows because he’s such a scumbag that he’s always being real with her and she appreciates it. During the conversation she mentions a Phantom Thief that’s Robin Hooding their way around stealing from the corrupt and giving to the needy and in hilarious fashion Kazuma agrees to stop this nice yet technically illegal person to save his own skin and stay in the lap of luxury a bit longer. But before he can pull a Light Yagami and vaguely pretend to catch someone he has no interest in catching for two years, they kick him out of the palace and make him go stay with the targets of the Phantom Thief so now they’re stuck with the dude that almost killed them for teleporting a mech bomb into his house, fun stuff.

Delicious in Dungeon: It’s the first part of the two-part midseason finale, and the plan comes apart almost immediately who would’ve guessed. Turns out using cooking pans as shields doesn’t exactly work the same because cooking pans SPREAD heat instead of blocking it, need some giant armored potholders for that. What’s more, the dragon is basically completely unphased by their building trap, idk why they thought a giant armored lizard impervious to explosions would mind having a bridge dropped on it but maybe they thought it ate Captain Kirk and absorbed his weakness to bridges. Even Laios’s parasite sword wants nothing to do with this and jumps out of the way and hunkers down. Senshi and Chilchuck sacrifice themselves to take out one of its eyes and Laios comes up with a plan to launc himself off the pan BotW Shield surfing style and dangle his leg from the dragon’s mouth to stab its weak point. Now I thought he was gonna get completely swallowed and stab its weak point from the inside which would’ve been cooler but this is still pretty damn cool. While Laios is unconscious there’s a small flashback that’s otherwise just for emotional stuff but I do want to bring attention to the fact they come across a ring that binds souls to bodies similar to what the dungeon does and apparently it was in the possession of an elf so that may or may not be relevant to the story given we’re getting dripfed this shit REALLY slowly. One short flashback about Falin later, Laios is down a leg and before I can start thinking we’re gonna have some cool How to Train your Dragon parallels with a disability character they just fucking reattach the thing, idk I think one-leg Laios would’ve been a neat wrinkle though at least he gets a scar for his trouble. Still the group aren’t able to find Falin anywhere in the dragon’s guts and ultimately determine her remains are in the pseudo-appendix where they find her weapon and what Laios presumes to be her fucking skull so uhh that’s dark, dunno what the extent of that healing magic is but unless we can spontaneously regrow flesh we’ll have to get into some FMA territory here and work on some human transmutation, I mean Laios DID already sacrifice a leg so who’s ready to be put into a suit of armor? Senshi? Probably Senshi.

Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End: The time has finally come for Sein’s big decision whether to stay with the group or chase after his friend… is what I would be saying if there wasn’t a bigass blizzard out of nowhere. Sein gets to enjoy a little more time with his friends even if they mostly go off and do their own things, even getting to mediate one last Fern and Stark fight and tell them both they have to act like adults and stop pouting over stupid shit. Side note but I kinda really like this little tiff they have like at first it sounds like Stark did something completely reasonable and Fern just flipped out but Fern reveals that she was actually scared because of how easily Stark was able to immobilize her even for just a gag and then was embarrassed about how scared she got for a sec, like it’s a very natural reaction and something men and women of any type kind of have to acknowledge when being around each other, there’s sort of an instinctual fear that doesn’t come up a lot but it is nice to touch on it and have Fern apologize and share her feelings on the matter and request for gentler treatment idk I just really like that touch. Either way as anyone could’ve called, Sein does decide to head off on his own after one last talk with Frieren and says his bittersweet goodbyes after leaving assured the group will be alright without him. Next Fern gets sick so we get to have a nice little Stark/Frieren adventure, a neat little pairing we don’t see the two of them alone much together and they bounce off each other well, Stark brings out Frieren’s sillier side a bit and Frieren doesn’t rile Stark up as much as Fern does so they’re able to have an earnest discussion about Fern and her growing up and Frieren feeling like something of a mother figure to her in a way which even normal mothers have a hard time watching kids grow up so far so Frieren must be getting whiplash for how fast Fern grew up on her sense of scale. Still they’re able to stay at a little farm where Stark gets complimented on his skill with milking tits so make of that what you will, we’re back on track and ready to start the Mage Exam arc next time.

Nekomonogatari Black: Araragi breaks into Hanekawa’s house and finding out she literally has no impression on the state of her home scares him worse than anything we’ve seen in the series, like the guy fights ghost crabs and got the shit kicked out of him by a basketball playing yuri monkey and the sheer amount of neglect this girl faces TERRIFIES him. Ironically though unlike most busybody protagonists that’re just like “I HAVE to be the one to solve this” he does agree to Oshino’s wishes and lets him handle it… until three days later when Oshino’s been beat to shit twenty times because he’s playing the world’s most NSFW version of Wile E. Coyote with the bustiest Roadrunner I ever hope to see. Apparently it’s like the time Piccolo fought Frieza in DBZ and Black Hanekawa isn’t that strong but normal Hankeawa is just that smart that she knows all Oshino’s traps before he springs them, him claiming she “knows everything” but Hanekawa’s own catchphrase would obviously disagree with that. Dejected, Araragi goes to lick Hanekawa’s desk in remembrance of her tits, you know, normal teenage boy stuff. Black Hanekawa shows up through sheer force of “Bro wtf are you doing” vibes and gives him the general gist of what we got from her motivation at the end of the first season, telling him to tell Oshino to leave them alone or she’ll kill him next time and she’ll be able to leave after 500 more attacks and she murders Hanekawa’s parents, so that’s uhh not great.She says something interesting though and basically implies Hanekawa’s a sociopath who only does the right thing all the time not because she’s good or feels empathy but because through her sheer emotionlessness she can accurately pinpoint what the right thing to do in situations is and does it to keep up appearances and thus she can’t be preyed upon by spirits who feed off her fucks because she has no fucks to give. I mean at that point idk, what’s the difference? The good shit is still getting done and if Hanekawa’s not doing it for any emotional payoff or catharsis if I remember my Categorical Imperative correctly that’s MORE morally good than doing it for the ‘right’ reasons and while Kant’s kind of a weirdo in that regard you can’t really argue with the results like is that something Hanekawa should feel bad about if the cat gets buried at the end of the day? Maybe that’s what Black Hanekawa sees and sympathizes with idk. Either way the conversation ends with Araragi resolved to stop Black Hanekawa and set Hanekawa free even if it kills him. Like this is the kind of shit that makes Araragi so hard to parse, like on the one hand he is easily on the scummiest spectrum of scumbag protagonists with underage shenanigans that put Made in Abyss to shame but on the other hand sometimes he’s just so fucking cool and able to leverage his usual scumbag behavior to get people to underestimate him, this is why I keep going back and forth on this series.

[ritual-misery]

14-01-2024 🏖

semi-update. not necessarily an update but a moral dilemma. turns out my dad is a confirmed transphobe who thinks all the LGBT sillies of the world are not seeing the pearly gates. guess we're swimming in the lake of fire friends. off to chuckletown with me

but nonetheless. i was feeling a bit distraught and i voiced this to my mom, and i voiced how i'll never be able to get top surgery with him around. to my surprise, my mom said that when i'm ready to book my surgery, she says to go for it. and if my dad has a problem with it, then she'll give him an ultimatum; either get with it or get going. the shock i felt was insane lol. was not necessarily expecting that. but this kind of leaves me with a problem. should i actually go through with it?

the way i see it, i'd come out to my dad first as opposed to just booking top surgery one day and then coming home and being like "guess what!" like even though i'm an adult (legally), i feel like to avoid what could be a potentially MAJOR issue, i'd rather just tell him i'm trans, what that means, and what my next steps are. he couldn't technically stop me (and he never will), but at least i could tell him and have my truth out there. and he can't say that i went behind his back for a major operation. so i would tell him

however, my biggest issue is timing. currently my dad is in a very weird mental state. he has no job, and he has to get back on his feet. he might secure a job within a month or two, and then he can get back on his way. his situation is very complex and oddly singular, and i don't want to get into on here cause i feel like it might identify me. but just know that this joblessness has caused his brain to grow worms. he's mercurial; it was really bad like a week ago, but he's settled down again. naturally i don't know when the cycle will repeat itself but for now everything is chill. but until he's mentally stable again i'm not gonna tell him shit

also there's another facet for timing. we (my mom, sister, and i for now) are planning trips in july and august. i don't want to do anything in, say, june, mainly cause if i come out and worst-case scenario happens (he gets violent), it'll be such a mess and i just don't want to deal with that

also finances. my mom says that if she has to take 3-4 jobs to support me and my sister she'll do it, as long as i'm happy. but the guilt i would feel would be indescribable. my dad pays for groceries and the bills. groceries i'm not too concerned about, because we don't eat that much and we can budget. bills, a different story. plus my mom's job isn't all that secure right now. AND it's my dad's money in my RESP, which is paying for my education. and lucky for me, i want to be a doctor. so i got a lot more schooling to go

but on the other side of all of this; it's top surgery

i have recurrent fantasies about top surgery and having no tits. just being real LMAO. it's true. half of the time i'm working out i have this image in the back of my head about how i would look shirtless + no tits. like i need abs so it looks good... know what i mean. i have the movie go (1999) on my watchlist and i saw a scene online with timothy olyphant in it, and he was shirtless and was wearing sweatpants. now maybe it's just cause i think olyphant is super hot BUT i'm starting to genuinely tweak out when i think of this. i think it's me combining it with my recurrent daydreams and the resulting mental image of me shirtless and wearing sweatpants which is causing me to tweak. either way i'm tweaking and i can't stop thinking about it which is making me question my mental state

i got a whole list of shirts i'll wear too. like i need to wear a wifebeater with no tits. those mesh shirts. a compression shirt (like the workout ones) is high on the list. also i'd love to go to the beach. just go to the beach and swim in the water and sunbathe. life would be so much better. but then... i'd have to come out. i can't wait for anyone. it's my decision alone

i really honestly wonder what would happen. would he reject it and claim that i've been brainwashed/groomed? would he realize that this is reality and at least try to understand me? would he know that if he doesn't accept me, he'll never see me and my sister again, and do something drastic? would he be mad for me taking hormones behind his back? i wish i could just see what could happen so i'd know what to do. but that's not how reality works. i have to make a decision, and face the consequences and reap the benefits i receive from it. it's a major thing and idk what avenue to pick. it's gonna have effects on me, my family, my way of life, everything. maybe he'll accept it and try to understand. but i have severe doubts. my dad is hard-headed and stubborn, and a bigot. he is stuck in this idea of me being a little kid. a little girl, specifically. if he leaves that delusion of me being a fucking kid, and realizes that i'm actually not only an adult, but a dude, idk what he's gonna do. but i really do suspect it's not gonna be good

[sun-in-retrograde]

Outer Planets Astrology Report 17 July 2023

Astrologically, it’s a big week. I like doing dwarf planet summaries but the thing with this week is today’s New Moon is cool, but all the real excitement is on Sunday, the other end of the week. So here’s a summary of what’s going on astrologically past Neptune.

This stuff is based on my own limited experience and the research that's been done on these planets so far. The dwarf planets have strange new energies and this is part of my trying to work with them. we learn abut them together!

Monday

Sun and Moon in Cancer, square Eris. Off by just 0°20 at time of new moon. Eris holding its ground squared to a Sun and Moon that are nested and brooding, not ready to create and severely agitated by other nasty aspects going on. This makes me think of how they say animals are at their most dangerous when something is going to be born. It’s a bad time to pick apart someone’s project, or have someone pick apart yours. Stay cool and remember this is all energy and will pass. I guess.

Thursday

Gonggong is a planet that gets associated with turning tables and big shifts, Gonggong in Pisces seems to be getting mostly felt in climate. Astrologers who study it associate it with storms and flooding. On Thursday, it’s opposing Mars. So is Saturn. In fact Saturn and Pisces are conjunct and will come into proper conjunction during Saturn’s retrograde. 

Someone described Saturn in Pisces as the weight of the ocean, and Mars in Virgo as the precision of a tiny hole. In this analogy, Gonggong is the ensuing implosion. It creates a potential for power and precision to lead to something destructive. Or, just, anything. My big fear with the Mars-Saturn opposition is feeling blocked - wanting to get going but not being able to. Gonggong is offering an alternative - getting unblocked. Feeling something. Doing something. It may not be the right thing, but it might be. In a week of tense aspects, maybe it’s good to have the potential to snap. Maybe that’s how we get shit done. 

Saturday

Eris is at 25°15 of Aries all week and has been since Wednesday 12 July. It goes into retrograde on Saturday but will be stationed at 25°15 Aries until 1 August. Here’s the weird thing. This is breaking new ground time for Eris. Eris spends all but four months a year covering ground that it covered in the last retrograde and will cover again in the next. Between 22 May and 22 July Eris has been breaking new ground. This week, Eris is holding the new ground and will be defending it until a final retreat back into more familiar territory in 22 September. To me, this feels powerful and productive. Maybe a little unstable but Eris is a very fixed planet. It advances when it’s slowest.

Sunday

Mercury and Lilith will conjunct in Leo Trine to Eris. Mercury and Lilith in Leo seem to me to be pretty primed to cause a scene, especially after a week of quite tense and intense harsh aspects. Mercury and Lilith in Leo together sounds like drama, but Eris is what gives it staying power. Regular bickering and drama happens all the time, but occasionally someone says or does something that hits an actual point, and changes something. If things blow up, if there are fights and arguments, Eris could be the possibility of landing a blow that lasts. This could be good. It could also be bad. Have you ever said something in the heat of the moment you can't take back? The Eris trine means you can land that extra punch. Make sure you genuinely want to do that before you do.

Sedna is sextile the Sun as it enters Leo and for now I’m taking this to mean that early parts of a sign are when we can express trauma and think about spiritual development. We’re seeing this in slow motion in Sedna’s trine to Pluto where 2008 to 2020 is being rehashed in this latter day period of Pluto in Capricorn. Pluto is opposing the Sun as it enters Leo so we could see Sedna as a softening part of that experience - yes you might have your ego bruised, but that can be an opportunity for growth. Yes you might hurt someone else, but… you might enjoy doing it? Honestly, Sunday is a day for some harshness. Maybe you can tap into Sedna to avoid causing pain. Got to be worth a try.

Venus goes retrograde 1°45 from a square with Sedna. Neptune is also still sextile with Sedna and in retrograde. I kind of like how recently the two "romantic" planets were coming towards aspects with Sedna, then pulled back into retrograde. Sedna is a wild water goddess, who has loved and been hurt. The Square with Venus in Leo feels to me like a challenge to explore our values - why do we hold them? Do they matter? Are they real? We may be able to have out these issues in the retrograde, or it may wait a few months. The Sextile with Neptune is deeper: a challenge to re-examine our ideals. And this sextile won’t go exact till 2025. 

I feel like we’re in a decade of clashing ideologies and the Sedna-Neptune Sextile is an opportunity to re-examine. Maybe we can use this to de-radicalise people who dove off the deep end into hate but this isn't a fast process. Ideals don’t change when we win arguments, they change when people are ready to change. The sextile will be with us till 2026 and will still be felt for years to come. Be prepared for this to be long work

[lisynearchives]

christmas lights (routrine, 1.3k, post-canon. implied not sfw at the very end)

It is, by all means, a strangely sunny leadup to Christmas. Sunshine is nothing new down in Solyeung, but a sunny Christmas in the rest of Lisyne, not so much. A good omen, or a bad omen, depending on who you ask. Or depending on the mood. Citrine's mother had been more of the mercurial sort.

No reason to think about her, though. Citrine shakes his head and takes the stairs two steps at a time back to the ROB2NS office, forgoing the old, rickety lift. His sneakers make an unpleasant plap-plap sound against the concrete steps, and the cheap supermarket bags he's holding rustle against his jeans. He cringes at the sound.

The ROB2NS office is on the third floor -- a respectable lift ride, but a small hike on foot, especially going up, and with baggage, nonetheless. Citrine seriously regrets not taking the lift now. Fucking mom angst distracted him.

He leans against the wall by the office door fo a moment just to find his keys, but the door opens abruptly from inside. Roulette sticks xyr head out, xyr eyes alight.

"Did you get the lights?"

Wearily, Citrine points to the bags on the ground. Roulette lights up further and brings them in, leaving Citrine to catch his breath outside. Tell-tale signs of having been an only child most of xyr life, Citrine supposes. Even now, with Sage in the picture, Roulette and Sage really act more like members of an extended family more than siblings.

Citrine wonders how his little brother is doing. Yet another thought to banish.

He's taken a moment too long. Roulette comes back out without the bags, xyr hand reaching out to ask if xe can touch him. Citrine nods, and xe touches him on the shoulder gently. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Citrine pushes off the wall and heads inside, Roulette following. The bags have been deposited onto the coffee table. "Just remembered some stuff."

"Do you want to talk?"

Roulette always asks, even though neither of them are much for talking about their feelings. Only late at night, when the bustle of Lisyne has simmered down into white noise and it's only the two of them sitting in it. Shoulder to shoulder on the office couch, a blanket each because Citrine gets annoyed when they share and Roulette moves. Eyes cast somewhere else, so it's easier to confess. I keep remembering her. I wish I didn't.

It's still broad daylight, so Citrine just turns to the bags. "Not right now."

Roulette accepts this. Xe snatches up the box of Christmas lights that Citrine had bought -- the crown jewel of Citrine's shopping -- and peels off the tape from the opening. "We can put away the rest later," xe cajoles, maneuvering Citrine's hands away from the depths of the bags. "Come here, I want to put these up first."

"There's like, twenty four meters of the shit," Citrine says, as nothing more than a comment. He stands back and watches Roulette pull out a tangled mess of lights, knotted around itself both wire and tiny lightbulbs. Xe continues to pull them out, a magician with xyr scarves, until the box is finally empty and the veritable birds'-nest of wire sits on their floor instead.

Citrine looks at it and immediately surrenders. "You're better at this than I am," he says, holding his hands up. "And I went to buy them. I can put the other stuff away."

"Sure," Roulette says. "I was the one who asked for them anyway. Thank you, Citrine."

Citrine shrugs. "Wasn't a big deal."

A hum. "I'd still like to thank you."

"You just did."

Roulette can make a conversation go on forever about nothing at all, so Citrine turns his back before xe can go on and starts to put away the rest of his so-called spoils. It's all mundane -- granola bars, instant noodles, refill for their diffuser. He would have restocked on tea too, but Roulette had given him a gift pack of the stuff last week. The good kind, too -- the kind Citrine is too cheap to buy himself. A bunch of loose leaf teas all packed into a pretty box.

It's not Christmas yet, Citrine had said when xe gave it to him.

It's not a Christmas present, Roulette had said. It's just a present.

I don't have anything for you back.

Roulette had flopped onto the couch by then, started to reach for xyr phone. You don't have to. Xe started grinning. Actually, how about this? You're not allowed to get me anything back. You have to just accept it, no strings attached.

Pu'er, chamomile, lemongrass and ginger, more Citrine can't recall at the moment. He's only brewed one pot from the gift pack so far, though he usually blitzes through his grocery store teas.

He's trying to savour them. That much is easy to guess. But it's not just the teas; it's the token of Roulette's affection too, there to remind him every time he looks at the box.

He might brew another pot after they get the lights set up. Just to get Roulette to stop teasing him about hoarding the teas. And anyway, it'll be nice to drink together. They usually have their own drinks each morning -- Citrine with his tea, Roulette with xyr coffee.

With the groceries -- "groceries" -- put away, Citrine wanders to where Roulette is. For a split second he considers perching his chin on xyr shoulder the way xe does to him, just to see xem surprised for once, but decides against it. Roulette stands next to the coffee table with a much smaller, but still significantly tangled knot in xyr hands. Xe attempts tugging and slipping the bulbs through this way and that, xyr eyebrows knitting into an uncharacteristic frown.

"Can't figure it out?" Citrine asks.

"No." Roulette grumbles. "I have most of it undone, it's just -- this last part."

"Good luck with that."

That gets a laugh out of Roulette. "You're not going to help?" xe says mock-plaintively, as Citrine sits down on the couch.

"Nah."

Knots annoy Citrine. Knots especially. Replying client emails and humid weather also annoy him, but there's something extra frustrating about knots. The fact that you can do something about them, feel like you're getting somewhere, ultimately get nowhere, but you can't stop trying anyway. He gets stuck in it too easily.

Roulette is the one who's had to pry tangled wires out of his hands, so xe just laughs again at the flippant rejection.

A moment later, Roulette drops the lights, knots and all, onto the floor. "We'll just deal with it later," xe decides. "No point blowing up about them."

"Sure."

Citrine helps Roulette drape the lights even though xe hadn't asked, until the floor is outlined in a rectangle of soft, glowing lights. Roulette tucks the mess of knots next to the coat-stand, somehow arranging it so it might pass for a quirky decoration rather than a ball of hell. Xe winds the spare meters around it, turning it into a strange, makeshift mont blanc dessert. Night has fallen, and the lights illuminate the darkness warmly.

"This is great," Roulette says, looking over their handiwork with a soft, satisfied smile. "Now we're ready for winter. I'd like to keep them all year, even."

Citrine shrugs. "Sure."

And it is pretty. Cozy, with the teas Roulette got him sitting on a cabinet, Roulette's coat hung up on the stand, Citrine's cardigan tossed over the back of the couch. The gentle yellow glow makes the place look homey instead of messy. Well. Maybe just homey as well as messy.

Roulette turns to him. "This light is nice and dim for sex, too," xe says, all pretend-musing with a hand on xyr chin, a new mischievous glint in xyr eyes. "What do you think?"

Citrine gets up from the couch and kisses xem in response.