#among other commitments that take up a chunk of my day

[mintjeru]

in case you were wondering, no i haven't gotten over this flashback from cyno's 2nd story quest

[pearlesscentt]

love in the little things : svt hip-hop unit

── alternatively: the times when actions whisper softly, but the love speaks volumes.

svt (hiphop unit) x reader, established relationship, fluff , 642 words

vocal unit | performance unit

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — there's a sense of calmness that SEUNGCHEOL feels when he drives around with you right by his side. whether it's the daily commute to work or a night out with your friends, he insists on being the one to take you there. "i find peace in it," he said one time when you asked him about it.

and sure, the experience of driving beside him is a joy in its own right, but what tugs at your heartstrings the most is his steadfast commitment to punctuality. you had mentioned to him once how being made to wait on your own makes you anxious; he understood this unease, that's why he never lets you experience that anxiety. it washes you with relief and comfort to see him patiently waiting for you when you get out the door.

for more of this, check out open road promises.

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — like the pitter-patter of the raindrops, it became a pattern on countless occasions already. it was instinct for WONWOO that every time it rained; he would subtly shift the umbrella he was holding up for the both you, so that you would get more than enough shade to keep you dry.

whether it was a drizzle or a downpour, he would position the umbrella at an angle just to give you more shelter. every now and then, he would even steal glances at you to make sure you were comfortable, without a care for the rain-soaked shirt clinging to his arm. it was a gesture he never talked about and never seem to have to think twice about — his tiny habit that means so much to you.

in the midst of the rain, wonwoo never fails to wrap you up in the most beautiful kind of warmth.

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — with his wholehearted belief that what's his is yours, MINGYU loves to give you the best bites of every food he eats. initially, you thought it was just a simple act of sharing, which was already sweet in itself. yet, during a cozy movie night at his place, the realization hit as you both were enjoying a bag of gummy bears. it dawned on you that he had been actively avoiding your favorite colors, making sure that you had them all to yourself.

since that moment, you grew more aware of it: the cheesiest slice of pizza, the fudgiest corner of a brownie, the juiciest chicken drumsticks, the scoop of ice cream with the largest chunk of cookie dough, and the portion of the corn dog with the perfect cheese-to-dough ratio, among many others. his smile that radiates joy and fulfillment every time he does it — a wordless testament to his love for you.

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — you smiled as soon as you saw VERNON's name flash on your phone screen. though you never know what to expect, it was a familiar occurrence in your day-to-day — his penchant for sending you the most random texts in the most random times throughout the day.

"look what i just saw that reminded me of you!" one of them read, it was then followed by a picture of puddle in the shape of a heart. this has become a delightful routine that never ceases to make your heart jump every time you feel your phone vibrate, notifying you of a new message. but it doesn't stop with images of heart-shaped objects; he sends factoids ("did you know that honey never spoils?"), casual updates of what he's up to ("babe i spilled water on myself and now i look like i peed my pants"), little reminders for you ("don't forget to eat today okay?"), and your favorite of all, his tiny confessions of love ("i love you and i can't wait to see you later!").

the spontaneity of it is what you loved about it. the thought that during arbitrary moments in his day, his thoughts are filled with you.

svt masterlist | navigation ── reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated !

© 2023 PEARLESSCENTT. please do not steal my works.

[tomorrowusa]

It's not exactly news that Republicans are regurgitating Russian propaganda. The leader of the GOP is himself a Russian asset.

The new twist is that at least a few Republicans are starting to bring this up in public.

GOP Rep. Mike Turner said Sunday that Russian propaganda has taken hold among some of his House Republican colleagues and is even "being uttered on the House floor." "We see directly coming from Russia ... communications that are anti-Ukraine and pro-Russia messages, some of which we even hear being uttered on the House floor," Turner, chair of the House Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence, said in an interview on CNN's "State of the Union." "There are members of Congress today who still incorrectly say that this conflict between Russia and Ukraine is over NATO, which of course it is not," he added.

Yes, Republicans are spreading Russian propaganda on the floor of the House. And Rep. Turner is not the only one who has called this out.

His comments come on the heels of remarks House Foreign Affairs Committee Chair Michael McCaul made this week about how Russian propaganda has taken root among the GOP. McCaul, a Texas Republican, told Puck News that he thinks "Russian propaganda has made its way into the United States, unfortunately, and it’s infected a good chunk of my party’s base." Turner and McCaul each tied Russia and its leader, Vladimir Putin, to other authoritarian leaders, including President Xi Jinping of China and Kim Jong Un, the leader of North Korea. "[The propaganda] makes it more difficult for us to really see this as an authoritarian versus democracy battle, which is what it is," Turner told CNN, adding, "President Xi of China, Vladimir Putin himself have identified as such." McCaul described explaining to colleagues that the threat of Russian propaganda is similar to threats made by other U.S. adversaries. "I have to explain to them what’s at stake, why Ukraine is in our national security interest," he said. "By the way, you don’t like Communist China? Well, guess what? They’re aligned [with Russia], along with the ayatollah [of Iran]. So when you explain it that way, they kind of start understanding it."

It's all good of Michael McCaul and Mike Turner to call this out. But what are they doing to get badly needed aid to Ukraine? They need to show that they are more than just do-nothing passive observers.

Last week, Rep. Don Bacon said on NBC News' "Meet the Press" that he had commitments from Johnson and McCaul that they would allow a bipartisan Ukraine military aid package to advance to a vote. Rep. French Hill echoed this point on CBS' "Face the Nation" Sunday morning, saying he believes Johnson will bring Ukraine aid to the floor "immediately after completing the work on [the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act] and FISA's extension — that deadline of April 19 makes it a priority for the first few days we're back." "I believe he's fully committed to bringing it up to the floor immediately thereafter," Hill added. But Bacon, R-Neb., also warned that Johnson could face a vote to oust him from the speakership if he moves forward with Ukraine aid.

With a tiny majority and Marjorie Taylor Greene nipping at his heels, Speaker "MAGA Mike" Johnson is in a weak position. House members not wanting to make the US a vassal state of Vladimir Putin need to take advantage of this weakness.

If you live in the districts of these representatives, contact them and urge them to back uo their words with some action on aid for Ukraine.

Mike Turner (OH-10) Michael McCaul (TX-10) French Hill (AR-02) Don Bacon (NE-02)

[winterslibrary]

"...oh, doctor Lucianna! I have to admit, for as long as I've been working here and trust me, I've spent majority of my life here, I never saw anyone else as talented and dedicated as Lucien. Despite their own issues with health, they continue helping other patients and fighting tirelessly for those letting out their last breaths... I still fail to understand why do you think they are related to those disappearances. Our Lucien is a good soul, they wouldn't hurt a fly. Wasn't that man a criminal either way? I get that it's your responsibility take care of this, but isn't it better that that man is gone?"

━ ISABEL, head surgeon, about LUCIANNA

NAME: LUCIANNA, also known as LUCIEN or LUCIE. RARITY: 5 STAR COMBAT TYPE: QUANTUM PATH: ABUNDANCE USUALLY RESIDES IN: PENACONY

IMPORTANT: lucianna is non-binary and uses they/them! i personally call them by lucie but lucien and lucianna are also a-okay. they usually introduce themselves as lucien though. also both fem and masc terms are okay !! everything's written in more general language than trying to pull out my writing braincells cuz i have none for now </3 but... for sure i will write write something with them at one point.

GENERAL NOTES: Although Lucie usually resides in Penacony, the hospital they work at is on completely different planet. They tend to travel a lot because of that, one day chilling among luxuries of the Penacony's Golden Hour, the next day rushing to a hospital for a sudden emergency! It can be tiring sometimes, truly. But Penacony gives them enough time to rest before another week spent working on sick or dying patients. There's something else they do between their job, though...

(tws for: human experimentation, medical malpractice, cults and (mass) murder in lucie's backstory. feel free to skip that part !!)

BACKSTORY: There's thing thing, you see. Lucie from always was a rather sick child, struggling with their health and at one point things got so bad, that Lucie truly believed the end was near. With no money to afford proper medicine, only thing left was pray for a miracle, and yet what Lucie got was a curse under the guise of one.

Because they were young and desperate to live, when a mysterious doctor offered them medicine that could save them they instantly agreed, unaware how big the pay would be for their life.

That doctor turned out to be a part of a group of abundance followers, that in the name of Yaoshi would perform... rather questionable medical experiments, be it on medicine, be it on other human livings and Lucie, not wanting to lose their only source of medicine, forced themselves to join the group and assist them in whatever experiments they were doing, even if it included hurting other people.

Luckily, with time Lucie managed to learn how to brew their own medicine– alongside with more general knowledge regarding medicine, which allowed them to run away from that terrible group of people, self-called followers of Yaoshi yet filthy liars in reality. But not without a revenge, no.

To this day people wonder who– or what killed that group one by one, everyone dropping dead like some flies... Lucie wouldn't know. They are happy to be the only survivor and to be finally free.

After that, Lucie started expanding their medical knowledge– turns out that when you don't have to literally torture people with poisons and dangerous surgeries, medicine is quite interesting! And that was how Lucie ended up working in a hospital, slowly climbing their way up, soon becoming one of the best doctors out there. They genuinely care about their patients, always willing to stay up nights and weeks to ensure that someone survives.

That doesn't mean Lucie completely let their past away, no. They spent years in that... weird group, among these people using an aeon to commit atrocities on often innocent people. And Lucie, as much as they wouldn't want to admit to that, a big chunk of their knowledge learned from all these experiments and dangerous researches they were forced to either witness or lead. It was unethical and terrible, but...

That dangerous side of medicine, it was an interesting one– and if researched in proper surroundings, the results could benefit everyone! From finding out new poison antidotes, to learning about toxins, how human's body functions and so, so many others...

Please, if you ever hear screaming coming from the lower levels of the hospital, don't mind it. You didn't hear it and doctor Lucianna is busy, so it's best you wait here and don't go bothering them. You wanted to talk about that criminal who just... suddenly disappeared, right? A nice chat won't hurt anyone.

MISCELLANEOUS:

━ Lucie is a cane user. They use a cane majority of the time, even in Penacony, but they don't need it always. Some days are better, some days are worse. Nonetheless, they keep it around all the time because their cane, in reality, is also a concealed blade. Great to defense!

━ Despite what one might think, they genuinely are a nice, sweet person, always willing to help, sometimes they even appear quite naive and stupid but don't believe it, Lucie is far away from being a little, naive sweetheart. Although, that attitude stays even when they are experimenting on someone... it's unsettling, sometimes.

━Their work schedule is chiller than a normal doctor's though. They are allowed to have more free time and they don't have to be at the hospital all the time. It's because their health is already quite poor and they tend to overwork themselves, so they more time to rest, to be able to perform their duties.

━ Close with Aventurine, their relationship is... interesting to say the least. For sure Lucie is his little lucky charm (meaning, more of a bodyguard and someone to bother while gambling all his money away) but they also are his sound of reason, always complaining at him to stop gambling so much, you're going to do something stupid and finally lose a game and, please, stop spending so much on me, I have no ways of paying you back anymore...

━ They enjoy researching on medicine, toxins, antidotes and poisons a lot. Genuinely they do. It's an interesting topic and they are quite good at that! Lucie did, in fact, made their own medicine after all...

━ Their post attack animation is literally them spinning their cane on the back of their hand. It's a little extra. A little fancy.

A/N NOTES: ueue. it is a little rough YES but im currently going through a writer block so dont mind the roughness HAHAHA im gonna... add more stuff one day. lucie's still kind of a wip so that too. anywyahashagsh introductions done!! voicelines next. also, have a lucie picrew as i struggle with their outfit and full design </3 have a great day everyone my back HURTS also i decided to not describe their personality just yet... because i dont like doing that. yeah im really gonna give u guys more lucie lore WHEN IM DONE WORKING ON THEM ok bye fr

[ikatako38]

Happy 2-Year Anniversary to TPWCH!

The last few weeks and months have been a bit rough for me, so I don’t have anything else ready to show you today, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have plenty to look forward to!

OC Memes - Technically not for the anniversary, but rather to celebrate 300 kudos. I’m almost done with these! Here’s a WIP!

Anniversary Art ’24 - I’m working on a group photo for all the important characters in the TPWCH universe—including the sequel—so we’ll finally have exact visual representations for every important character beyond Picrews! I’ll be sharing a WIP soon.

Tako’s Getting Treated for ADHD - I’m taking the test tomorrow and have my follow-up next week. My ADHD has held me back since the very beginning of the fic and even before, so if everything goes well I might be able to be somewhat more productive on the fic going forward!

Ship Wars Ahead - A Tumblr poll tournament coming in April!

And now for the big one…

TPWCH is getting crossposted!

Okay, hold on, put the pitchforks down for just a second…

I know FFN is dead and Wattpad is cringe. But each site has its strengths that AO3 doesn’t quite cover. Particularly, I’ve always liked the format of Wattpad making it feel easier to comment and encouraging discussion among readers! FFN also holds a lot of sentimental value to me, and I’ve been wanting to return there for a while. Since I’ll be reposting chapter by chapter, it also allows new readers to ease into the story like many of you did when the fic was first coming out on AO3, instead of having to commit to such an intimidating 150,000-word chunk of fic all at once. And if the fic takes off on one or both of those other platforms, it’ll be a good thing for everyone! Not only will the TPWCH community continue to grow, but also—try as I might—I’m only human and more comments/interaction will automatically motivate me more to write and get chapters out for all of you! Skimming, dividing up, and posting old parts of the fic is also a minimally stressful way to get myself to engage with the fic and increase motivation.

Somehow I already had accounts on both of these platforms. Here they are! I’ll be getting my FFN profile pic and Wattpad bio fixed in the next few hours, and I’ll have a teaser for the TPWCH launch up in the next day or two.

FanFiction.Net Account

Wattpad Account

Both crosspostings are starting on 3/8

3 & 8 day!

From then on…

- FFN will update with one chapter every Friday, with any half chapters posted on the intervening Wednesday.

- Wattpad chapters will be broken up into ~3,000-word chunks and will update three times a week—Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday

Let me know what you think!

[blzzrdstryr]

A silent plea

Yandere!Kujou Sara x gn!reader

Wordcount:1366

CW:Yandere themes, death and torture mention

Kujou Sara knows her place. It’s always beneath and at Raiden Shogun’s beck and call. Some may think it's humiliating, to dedicate so much time and energy for the tyrant, yet Sara disagrees - Baal may be a cruel goddess, but she is a goddess nonetheless, meant to be praised and obeyed and Sara is nothing but a devoted worshipper, willing to commit any atrocity if it will please her archon.

She doesn't indulge in it, preferring to endure the cruelty of her own hands and telling herself that it is needed for Baal's eternity. All who resist and defy have deserved their fates, no matter how grim and bitter they are. How many rebels did she strike herself? Electro archon’s heart holds no mercy nor pity for her enemies, so Sara’s shouldn’t either. And it did, for a time, allowing Kujou Sara to fight and torture and interrogate, all in the name of her Goddess, until she met you.

It happened on the battlefield. Sara was aiming at someone, all her attention consumed by the distant figure and the tension of the bow in her hands as she heard a rustle of the leaves and then sensed a blade pressing down her jugular.

“Order your men to retreat”, you demanded, adding a bit more pressure. She couldn’t see it but felt a small trail of blood trickling down her neck and staining the clothes. It was an awful and dangerous situation to be in and for the first time in months she experienced fear so clearly and brightly.

“I don’t comply with the requests of traitors”, she kicked you, focusing the electro energy around her body. It was enough to give her time and protect Sara from your weapon, leaving just a shallow cut on her neck.

You gasped then, from pain and shock, eyes wide as you grasped the injured hand, and dropped the weapon. And then it was Sara’s turn to get surprised - you didn’t flee and she couldn’t see your vision. Were you that stupid or desperate? Did you really think that you could defeat her in a fair fight?

Sara took a stance, preparing for a quick victory, which it wasn’t. She had to claw it out, deflecting your blows and kicks - you were like a wild animal back then, feral and forceful, seemingly just a step away from lunging at Sara and biting a chunk of her flesh out. But unlike the beast, you were smart and tricky too, throwing small metal trinkets to redirect her lightning, leaping at her only when you were sure she wouldn't attack. If it wasn’t for her approaching men who knows for how long you would drag out this battle, using lowly tricks and stunts to make up for your obvious disadvantage.

You fled then, pulling out a smoke bomb to create a distraction, and something inside her changed. At first Sara thought it was respect, keeping her up at night and making her return to the place of your “fight”, replaying your moves in her memory again and again. Respect for your resourcefulness and loyalty to your cause, despite the opposite allegiance.

Nevertheless, the dreams, wet and messy and too dishonourable to be said out loud, made her change her perspective - she didn’t respect you, no, she wanted to be at your mercy again, to feel herself helpless and powerless as your figure looms over her vulnerable form.

Those were sick perverted fantasies, not to mention traitorous too. As the loyal servant of Raiden Shogun she couldn’t allow herself to fall victim to the animal urges and sinful lust. Who knows, what if her arrow falters and blade dulls because of the same craving and shameful desire? How can she allow herself to live further after such failure?

That’s why her efforts in capturing and neutralizing rebel camps doubled, despite the slowly rising wave of hesitation inside her.

The early morning greets Kujou Sara with the cold breeze of grey waves and the news she has both dreaded and anticipated. Her men finally located and captured the small insurgent group, hiding among the lush forests of Kannazuka, roughly dragging the rebels back to the Kujou encampment.

“Bring them here”, Sara says to one of the troops after she exits her apartment, her battle regalia already on. The soldier bows and quickly hurries to the furthermost nondescript building - a makeshift cell for all prisoners before they’re sent to the capital.

Sara trails his figure, feeling how her own heart thumps, head aching from the sudden tension and anxiety and she doesn’t know whether she wants to see your face or not. “A moment of truth”, she whispers to herself as one painfully long second is replaced by the other.

Turns out, you are in that group too, as the mentioned soldier leads you out with the other prisoners, your hands tightly cuffed by a long chain. Kujou squints as she looks over all of you, your frame being her main focus. You are tired and dirty, she notes, but also defiant and full of fight, just like that fateful day.

Sara orders her men to lead you to the interrogation room, and put the rest in the cells, she accompanies the soldier, eyeing your form as he tugs on your chains - you don't want to go, it's obvious, but in the end fatigue and simple weakness win and your legs buckle.

You have new bruises, she notes, purple-bluish they stand out in a stark angry contrast against your skin. Maybe her men got handsy, maybe they weren’t careful with transporting you enough - no matter the reason she needs to punish them.

“Out”, Sara says, once you’re tied and secured in one place, defiant eyes burning right through her. The soldier quickly bows before exiting the room and leaving Sara with you alone, and that’s when she feels it again - the wave of longing and carnal desire so strong that she yearns to touch your body no matter how dirty and battered it is.

“Why am I here?”, you ask, voice low and scratchy after days of complete silence, snatching Sara from her thoughts, and by the archons the sound of your voice is enough to awaken something in her, pink dusting her cheeks.

"You don't have a vision", she says instead of answering you, feeling how her heart speeds up from those words alone:"but you still defied Raiden Shogun's eternity and you will be punished accordingly"

A crooked smile makes it to your face, resignation mixing with pure hatred boiling in your eyes. Sara wants to shiver and turn away, hide from your gaze, yet she endures it, not a single muscle betraying her.

"You will be tortured regardless of you knowing anything about resistance plans", you don’t stop smiling, yet your expression grows even more tense. Like a deadman, Sara thinks to herself - she had seen it of course, the face, the resignation, and she doesn’t like it. The mere idea of you suffering and screaming under someone else's hands enough to make her taste a sour bile on her tongue.

"Then why are you telling me all of this?", you raise one brow.

"There’s a way to avoid that. Aid me in my service to Raiden Shogun and your crimes will be forgiven". Sara leans closer to you, her golden eyes transfixed on your face. "Please agree", she wants to say: "It's for your own good".

“I don’t comply with the requests of traitors”, you spit back at her and she jerks away, remembering your bestial nature. If only you were more obedient Sara would worship you like a second deity, her love and devotion to you surpassed only by the reverence she holds towards Baal. She would dress you in silks and kiss every spot on your body, ripping out the most pleasurable and desperate moans out of your lips. She would fall on the knees before you, patiently awaiting your command.

But she can’t - deep down you’re an animal, feral and ungrateful and rabid beasts deserve nothing but death.

“I will come back tomorrow and ask you again. I suggest you take back your words”.

Kujou Sara knows her place. She wishes you knew yours.

[thegingeralien]

Thought I might share my “doing homework with adhd” tips in case the might help even just one person (because that would make me feel happy).

Who am I to be giving you advice? Good point! I am still terrible at studying and I’m 26 and at University for the millionth time. But I have studied A LOT in my 22 years of schooling with varying degrees of success.

I see a lot of people, especially teenagers or first year university/college students, with ADHD asking for tips on how to study. But if you do a google search most of the websites and advice that comes up can be extremely ableist. So I hope I can help someone!

TIPS TO HELP YOU STUDY WHEN YOU HAVE AN ADHD GREMLIN BRAIN!:

1. Chewing gum!

- This might come across as a weird one, but it has actually really helped me. I use it as a form of stimming to help keep me focused and concentrating. Other forms of stimming can potentially end up being more of a distraction when you actually need to be reading or writing - but they can help if you just need to be listening. Try not to get a bubble gum or fun flavoured one though - as they can end up making your mouth feel dry, lose flavour quickly, and just give your brain way too many sensory things to become distracted with.

2. Buying colour coded stationary!

- New stationary can make me really excited to start studying, but that excitement never lasts long and the act of buying stationary can sometimes become it’s own hobby. That’s not what we are going for here. I really recommend, especially if you are a visual learner like me, to buy colour coded stationary. This means removable page markers, different coloured post it notes, highlighters, sometimes even pens. This way if your mind jumps from one topic to the other, it doesn’t matter. Go with the flow. Forcing your ADHD gremlin brain to focus can be extremely counter intuitive. So pick a colour for each topic, and stick to that system to find organisation among your own chaos!

3. Buy a really cheap, boring year diary with hardly any writing inside.

- Not sure if your school/university has their own diary but they can be perfect for what I am on about. Generally you can find them for really cheap, soft cover, no writing or designs within the dates. Just dates, days, weeks and lines where you can write your homework. This helped me a lot in High School. I wish I had kept doing it in University, but I am good with giving advice, and not so much with taking it. I used to decorate the outside of it however I wanted. Some years I would redecorate the same diary every semester. In the public holidays or holiday days I would colour those lines in with different highlighters to make it look like a rainbow. But every assignment due date, homework, draft, rewrite, form I had to bring back, library book due date, school activity days, ANYTHING to do with school I would write in there with reminds and check lists. Important due dates would be highlighted, general homework and daily to do lists t(o help me not leave my assignments to the last minute) would have a tick box beside them (because ticking tick boxes is free dopamine). Try to not put birthdays or fun things in it. This is a small way to stay on track so it helps you actually stay on track with the big things when you’re home.

4. Big whiteboards stuck on the wall where you can’t avoid it.

- This is not something I had in school, but I so wish I did. I have been using this recently to keep on top of house work (as maintaining your own house is tiring) and my small business or other things I really can’t avoid. If I physically write it down (not just in my phone) it psychologically does help you commit it to memory. Again, physically putting a line through a task you just completed is a hecking great rush of dopamine. But the biggest reason I love my white board, I can’t ignore it. It is stuck to the wall and is never out of sight, out of mind. I can’t put my phone or diary down and then refuse to look at it until I’m past the due date. Again, I’m not a perfect person, there are days where I don’t do anything I have written on the white board. But the great thing is, I don’t have to continuously feel like I failure, as I can wipe it all off the next morning or week and start fresh. I also put important things I have to remember that I’m doing during the week so I don’t forget them.

5. Icky Medication.

- I know not everyone wants to be on medication, and I understand. I am not forcing you to. No matter what your opinions are, you lovely gremlin who is still reading this post, regarding medication, you are valid and I respect you. My personal experience with medication has not been the best. I have been misdiagnosed for a severe chunk of my academic life which has seen me trying to focus and maintain school work under some even worse states then I am unmedicated! However, since receiving my diagnosis and finding the right ADHD medication for me, I have the ability to get so much work done without having to unnecessarily struggle. It’s unfortunately not magic, it will not turn me into a robot that makes me do work and turn out incredible, noble peace prize winning assignments (as much as I wish that were possible). I still have the ability to be a lump, doom scrolling through tumblr, forgetting to eat, and ignoring responsibilities. But it really helps me when I sit down and start that thing that isn’t fun. Yesterday it helped me hyperfocus on cleaning my office which was a terrifying room to be in. So it’s pretty close to magic in my opinion!

6. Accessing Disability Support at your place of learning.

- Not all of you taking the time to read this will have either a) an offical diagnosis or b) a good disability support available to you wherever you are completing your studies. And that is okay. This dot point just won’t be for you right now. But keep it in mind for a time when it might apply to you, as it’s something I never thought I would need, but will never take for granted ever again.

- If you have an offical diagnosis and Disability Support, make an appointment with the disability support adviser. DO IT NOW! Get your psychiatrist to write a diagnosis letter outlining that you have <enter superpower that makes you hilarious here> and that you are receiving <enter x,y,z treatment here> and that you would benefit from receiving <enter what you have always wished you had on the days you can’t make your ADHD gremlin brain do the thing here>. Now these benefits can be, but not limit to: automatic extensions on ALL assignments, extra time on exams, extra breaks to walk around while taking exams, special consideration when marking assignments, my university allows me to take exams in a separate room with only the other students in my subject who also have disability support (occasionally I have taken an exam alone with only a tutor present) so I don’t get distracted, permission to take fidget items into class or exam (I have the option to wear headphones, as long as I can display that they are not connected to anything). Maybe you can come up with some great ones for you with your disability advisor or your psychiatrist.

- The disability advisor will often go through your course outline with you at the start of each semester or year. This is annoying and a great time for disassociating, but can be useful in hindsight because you are made aware of everything that will come up during your class so you are not surprised. Because lets be honest, it is unlikely you are going to look at the course calendar too often.

- Side Note: I make an appointment every semester with my disability support officer for my area of study to make sure I have my special considerations for the year. Now I may go through the whole year without ever using my considerations. However, the fact that I know they are there takes an insane amount of pressure off of myself. If I’m having an insanely screwy loony tune mental health moment, I can email my coordinator my disability plan and say I need an extension due to personal reasons, and WHOOP, there it izzzzz.

7. Dedicated one thing or a few things that have nothing to do with food/alcohol/other substances to reward yourself with for doing the thing!

- This may not work for everyone. It doesn’t always work for me. I used to reward myself with food, but that only reinforced my stimming with overeating and my already bad relationship with food. And I feel as though that would be the same with any other substance that can be linked with addiction. (Addiction is a tough word, cause what aren’t I addicted to, I have ADHD, but hopefully you get what I mean!).

-Now, boring try and not choose this aside, lets think of somethings that work really well as rewards!

- My partner likes to come give me a kiss and a hug when ever they have written and reread a paragraph, you might buy a book when you get a really good mark, you might want to go make a cup of tea and watch an episode of your hyperfixation after studying for <enter a good period of time here>, you might allow yourself to partake in an activity you usually do while procrastinating (but at least this time you know you aren’t putting something off), talk to someone who you know will tell you they are proud of you as they understand the mental struggle you go through to concentrate (if you can’t think of anyone, it is 110% okay if that person are the amazing people on tumblr or the adhd tumblr chats. We will freaking pop a bottle of champagne for you cause we get it!).

- Try and make what ever you choose be something in a different room or away from your working space. Getting out can really calm you down.

8. Don’t be afraid to ask for assistance.

- This is true for anything, but I don’t mean just asking your teacher to give you extra help understanding the task and marking rubric. Many people online, tutors, librarians at your school, past or present students offer assistance rereading and making small edits (they won’t make it magical unfortunately) to your assignments. If you are like me and once you have written or completed the dreaded thing, you can not imagine or force your gremlin brain reread or edit the thing. So it can help to just delegate this to someone else, who hasn’t read it before, so they won’t disassociate or skim read it. They will often notice things you never would have even if you were neurotypical as that is just what happens when you have been working on something for so long.

9. Repetitive music.

- It generally helps if this has no lyrics. Lo-fi is amazing. Classical is alright too if it works for you, but both my partner and I agree that it can really assist you to keep up pace and focus when the beat is a high and repetitive (almost meditative) tempo.

10. Limit your screen space.

- This is a tip completely from my partner @dr-adhd who also has ADHD, is an avid PC gamer and is consistently in a battle with their gremlin brain to focus on completing their PhD. They have discovered that it really helps them to limit their screen space - simply put, work on one screen only. They have done more work more easily when they have their one screen on their laptop to focus on. Whereas their office has multiple screens so they could be playing runescape, watching YouTube, listening to lo-fi and doing work - which never worked (shocking right hahaha).

11. At the risk of sounding like a Mum... Put your phone and other electronics other than the assignment necessary one, away.

- I am a Mum, but to a fluffy puppy dog, so I hate to sound like my Mum when I was in high school, but she was right. Mobiles are the single easiest and biggest distraction in ADHD history. I often, even at coffee shops, have to turn my phone over so that I am not consistently looking at it every time the screen lights up to say the pizza place has sent me a coupon, or a carpet place that has been having a sale since I was born is... still having a sale, or a friend from school wants you to watch this TikTok. Even though you might not want to ignore your friends, because people pleasing, difficulting making/keeping friends and RSD are hecking real things, but they can all wait. Trust me, none of them are urgent. That TikTok will still be funny in an hour or two. And I’m probably completely right when I say that whomever just messaged you, never replies as quickly as you want them too. So I doubt they are going to think twice if you are MIA to finish your thing.

My partner or I might add to this later, but at the moment I already know that I probably wouldn’t read this wall of words if I was the one reading it, so if you are still with me, THANK YOU and I really hope I might have helped you. Sorry for the mound of words, but maybe you can reblog, screen shot, or save this and read a dot point at a time or refer to it when you need. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, I promise what ever it is, I’ve asked the same thing once in my life or something MUCH stupider.

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XIII

Part I - - - - - - Part II - - - - - - - - - - - -  Part XI - - - - - - Part XII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Cody waited impatiently in the entrance room to the hall of healing, ignoring the surprising number of Jedi who drifted by aimlessly. 

As far as he could tell they were coming in just to stare at him, make meaningless small chat with the tight lipped receptionist, glance around, approach as if almost to talk with him, then drift out again without having accomplished anything.

Embarrassingly, it took him several minutes to realize why they were behaving so oddly. In his defense, a) he didn’t have much of a baseline for Jedi behavior in temple. 

And b) when numerous vod had approached him today to try and find out ‘why the General had missed last night’s conference,’ and ‘why Cody had been unreachable for large chunks of time, that was seriously unlike him,’ and ‘why had Cody gone to the Jedi Temple and stayed there for hours upon hours yesterday morning,’ and ‘why haven’t you taken your bucket off today,’ and ‘why has no one gotten a comm reply from General Kenobi since Ghost Company went drinking,’ and ‘why isn’t Skywalker answering comms,’ and ‘why do the Jedi seem so riled up today,’ and ‘why are you and Rex so tense,’ and, ‘are you going to the temple now,’ and ‘what the kriff happened to my desk,’ well.

They just asked directly.

He had grown so inured to unfamiliar Jedi silently willing him to answer their own jedi-variations on ‘What the fuck is going on with Obi-Wan’ that he almost didn’t notice when Windu came to stand next to him. 

“Here as a visitor?” He asked the Master stiffly. He was almost feeling wound-up enough to fight for his place in line. 

“No, I’m waiting to speak with Skywalker,” he replied, temporarily placating the Commander.

An unfamiliar Jedi Cadet with a short braid on the side of their head walked in, attempting to look casual and failing miserably. The small furred padawan stared nervously at Cody and Mace, and actually managed to open their mouth. Windu raised a brow. They immediately snapped their jaw shut, bowed, and scurried out. 

Cody watched through the window as they joined a group of even tinier Jedi. After a brief conversation with lots of waving limbs from all parties, the group turned in unison to make eye contact with Cody’s visor. Cody inclined his head slightly. They all ran off, practically tripping over their robes.

“Wasn’t sure if the eyebrow would work,” Mace muttered. “It’s been 50/50 today.”

“I’ve just been hiding whenever I can,” Cody confessed.

Mace winced. “My apologies for the delay in putting out a statement. We’re still trying to work out - an adequate substitute. At least for the upcoming campaign.”

Cody nodded, “I assumed as much."

“I assure you, we’ve taken your thoughts into consideration. You’ll receive a notice of the Council’s final decision before we send out a mass bulletin.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Fortunately, finally, Anakin stomped into the atrium, followed closely behind by the Nautolan soul healer. 

“Ah, Knight Skywalker, do you have a moment? I’d like to have a word with you.” 

Anakin startled at Mace’s words, but recovered quickly when he noticed the slow moving crowd just outside the door. “Of course, Master Windu,” he said with a bow.

“Commander Cody, would you care to follow me?” Aerdo said with a smile.

Cody and Anakin exchanged grim nods as they passed one another, following the Masters in opposite directions.

- - - - -

- - - - -

“The situation in the expansion region is deteriorating rapidly. We had already intended to send the 212th to moderate the situation after Umbara’s latest declaration. But increasing separatist activity in the sector means that we cannot afford to delay or under-commit. The hyperlanes are being taken, and with them, republic control over crucial supply lines is now threatened. We must deploy the third system army, the day after tomorrow at the very latest. They’re our best equipped force for the situation, not to mention the only uncommitted division large enough to make a meaningful impact. There is no viable alternative.”

Anakin nodded at Mace uncertainly. He had been keeping up with troop movements before everything, and, trying to keep himself sane, had even checked the news in between cutting off the Chancellor and visiting Obi-Wan only to find him unresponsive again. But...why exactly was the Master of the Order telling him this?

“You’re not seriously thinking of sending Obi-Wan? I mean even if he miraculously wakes up tomorrow...”

Master Windu sighed. “No, of course not. Which is why I’ve asked you here.”

“You...can’t be asking me to lead them?” Anakin asked, feeling lightheaded.

“I admit, the council did consider it. You are the one of our most successful Generals. Not to mention the one most familiar with Obi-Wan’s troops. Between the fact that the 501st is also needed on Umbara and every other Jedi’s unwillingness to step in to the position, your name came up multiple times.” Mace pinched the bridge of his nose while Anakin stared uncertainly.

“No, I have not brought you here for a promotion. I want to speak with you about your opinions on candidates for the 212th...as well as to ask if you believe yourself capable of leading the 501st without...losing yourself. I’ve finished reviewing your civilian casualties and consider your observed losses- tolerable, at least.”

Windu looked exhausted at having to say that out-loud and Anakin fidgeted, biting his tongue.

“As long as you are under the supervision of another Master, and if you swear to me on Obi-Wan’s life that you will report yourself if you find yourself slipping- I leave the command of the 501st up to you.”

Anakin felt queasy. How could he help Obi-Wan if he was half a galaxy away, on what sounded like a long, protracted campaign. If he refused to go, that would leave both the 501st and the the 212th without their generals. Or...was this how he could help? Carry one of his burdens for him? He was more than ready to lead! Probably! He had been leading! Part of him longed to charge into battle immediately- wash off his helplessness with blood. Anakin didn’t know how to fix Obi-Wan mind, but he was good at fighting, good at war.

And that thought brought back the ever-lingering cold. How could he trust himself? His...violence... it might have driven Obi-Wan to suicide. He still didn’t know! And if he left he wouldn’t know for months! He promised Obi-Wan not to kill again- how the kark was he supposed to do that while being a General?! Did ordering people to kill count, or was that worse?

“I need to think about the 501st ,” Anakin whispered.

Master Windu nodded. “I appreciate that. You have until dawn tomorrow to decide- in the mean time, let’s discuss the 212th.”

“Who’s the top choice?”

“Master Pong Krell. He’s actually our only choice that wouldn’t require reorganizing other assignments significantly.”

“He’s...a good duelist.” Anakin said, trying to think about what he knew of the Besalisk, “What division does he command?”

Windu grimaced. “That’s actually why he’s the best choice... Of the troops he’s had direct command over since the start of the war, over 85% are dead. He’s never lost a battle but...”

Anakin closed his eyes, “Right.”

Plenty of excellent fighters among the Jedi made terrible generals. He’d have to look over the Besalisk’s military record- it could just be terrible luck. Plo Koon had lost an entire division to the Malevolence, but he still was one of the best.

“When you say he’s the only choice...”

“Most Masters I’ve breached the subject with were extremely reluctant at the thought- I don’t want to force anyone into a position beyond what they’re willing to handle.”

“I guess that makes sense...but it seems...off?” Anakin trying to articulate his uneasiness.

“Our method of ‘promotion’ has a tendency to elevate those who should perhaps not be taking on more responsibilities.” Mace acknowledged grimly.

“Because... good Jedi aren’t really ok with war. And you’re only promoting Generals who are fine with the whole thing?” he said thinking of himself. “Or can’t say no?” he added bitterly, thinking of Obi-Wan.

“It’s not an ideal situation” Mace agreed, lines around his eyes growing.

Anakin scrubbed a hand to his face. He had been doing more thinking about the ‘concept’ of war and violence in the last two days than he had the last two years of actual fighting. There hadn’t been much point before, war was happening regardless of his feelings. Not to mention the fact that there wasn’t time to quibble over these sorts of things in the field. As much as he was desperate not to disappoint Obi-Wan again, he didn’t really enjoying being forced to consider this stuff now. It made him...itchy.

“Have you considered just putting Cody in charge of everything?” Anakin finally asked.

“Of course, but the Senate would never approve...”

- - - - -

- - - - -

- - - - -

“...With those few exceptions, the only major thing left to restock is perishables. But that’s more your department than mine, sir.” 

Cody finished his report. 

Obi-Wan continued to lay still, looking frail in the large medi-bed. The restraints made the image that much worse.

“Fuck.” 

Cody swore and, for the first time since crawling out of bed that morning, yanked off his helmet.

“General. General Kenobi. Obi-Wan can you hear me.” he said hoarsely, leaning over the bed.

The General didn’t move.

“Obi-Wan if you can hear me- try and shift around a little bit. Blink. Do anything. It’s me- Commander Cody. I- please, sir. Just do anything, they said you- you did this on purpose so please confirm you’re in there. I’m- shipping off soon and, I- I just need to know that you’re going to be ok. Please. Anything.”

Cody hovered absolutely motionless, watching for any sign of response. But Obi-Wan continued as he had been, lifeless but for his slow and steady breaths. 

Cody collapsed to his knees, vision spotty. Gasping for air, he rested his head on the side of the bed, desperately trying to pull himself together. 

After several long moments he pulled of a glove, tentatively reaching for Obi-Wan’s hand. It felt cold.

“General, if this is some sort of- dark force attack twitch your hand, ok? Please. We’re trying to understand- we’re here for you, just clench your hand if you’re under attack and someone will come to help.”

Cody paced his breaths to Obi-Wan’s, pulse slowing down to match the wrist in his grasp.

“Obi-Wan, why are you doing this? I don’t understand.” Cody rasped. 

“You- you told me I was one of your best friends. You- I don’t know why you think so highly of me but please you have to know I think the universe of you. We all do, but I really do. You don’t have to fight anymore if you don’t want to, we’ll protect you, you know that. You have to know that. But I can’t- I can’t imagine the rest of the war without knowing you’re alright somewhere.”

Cody pressed Obi-Wan’s hand to his forehead, choking back a sob.

“You said you had a ‘last mission.‘ I don’t know what that means. You’ve talked about after the war- I don’t get why your life has to end with a mission. I'm not sure if I understood anything you said, but I’m right here and I would never hurt you. I don’t know what you saw but I would die first, ok? I want you to know that I would gladly die before hurting you so- so you don’t have to worry about whatever vision you had. Just wake up and tell me what I have to do and I’ll do it.”

Cody sat on the floor, clinging to Obi-Wan’s hand and continuing to breathe. 

Eventually, the door clicked open behind him. 

“Commander Cody? I’m terribly sorry but it’s been an hour...” Healer Aerdo’s voice came trickling in.

“I understand- is there time for me to say goodbye?” Cody rasped, not looking back. 

“Of course.” 

The door clicked shut and Cody stood jerkily.

“Goodbye, General Kenobi. Obi-Wan. I’ll take care of the men for you while you’re- resting. Please, I know I say this a lot but take care of yourself, ok?”

Cody pressed Obi-Wan’s hand to his forehead one last time before reverently resting it on the bed. Pulling his helmet on roughly, he turned sharply and marched out the door. 

Obi-Wan remained determinedly still.

Next: XIV

[thekitschdiet]

my take on the literary masterpiece, the chic diet

Firstly, I am no one. It’s part of my charm. My fifteen minutes of fame was years ago, when I had an instagram niche meme page. I didn’t even take any brand deals! And my posts averaged six thousand likes! Anyhow. I am hardly literate and well hydrated and carry a small sephora-CVS-hybrid worth in my mini tote bag. Here is my guide on how to live like me, the intermediate kitsch-rat, aspiring influencer. But like, in an apathetic, somewhat dissonant, ironic way. I like saying I live by dogmatic principles. But a lot of it, um, is just eating disorder rituals. But that’s not really important. You’re as hot as you say you are, and as much an authority on what you write so long as you say it with, you know, conviction. It’s kind of venerable how fucking delusional I am, actually. Giving any sort of advice like I’m anywhere close to the ritzy ideal of the amphetamine-areyouami label-american. New York, ideally. West Village, preferably. But I guess the kind of guide I can write is better suited to someone living in a suburb, in a house with the twelve-paned windows. I always thought those were so chic. SO quaint, in a somewhat luxe way. Like, Connecticut vibes. My parents used to drive me up there as a child to buy books and ice cream. Nowadays I’d opt for a matcha latte with novelty ice cubes, but I guess at the time it was pretty sweet. 

Because I popped a Vyvanse at like, 10pm, this next little bit could go one of two ways. I will write the most articulate, brilliant piece of literature of my life. Magnum opus, if there was a skinnier word for it. Or, I will get wrapped up doing something like folding all my last-season knits (which is part of my look, okay! I don’t have a job!) and fixating on a paragraph on how a girl’s collarbones are almost as identifying as a fingerprint, or a signature. I’m not a graphologist, but if you write your A’s with the little tail on top (like on a computer), you’re probably a snake. Nothing personal, just an observation. Also, I do have a biology final to study for. Not that I’m super anal, or even particularly committed to academia, but even in my precariously manicured (read that as separate terms; I did a good job on my nail polish, okay? But I happen to also be teetering on the brink of an epiphany or a collapse. Hence the use of the word precarious.) state, I know it’s important enough I can let one of my countless side-quests sit idle for a couple more days. 

The first section seems only natural to be about hydration. And the whole idea of drinking things, really. There was a section in The Chic Diet about Adderall dry-mouth, which deeply resonated with me. Once I bit off a chunk of a Nivea Strawberry Shine (my favorite lip balm, more on that later) and swished it around my mouth. Didn’t help. Really, really didn’t. Anyway, I suppose that even if it served no purpose for combatting my prevacatingly ingenious cottonmouth solution, I was able to milk a sentence or two out of the experience. “Do it for the Vine”, all grown up! And wearing bananapapaya resin hoops too. Side note, that Etsy shop is a parasocial enemy of mine. It stems from jealousy, which sucks, but hating from inside a club I’m adjacent to is much healthier than being a hateful individual towards people I would, you know, interact with. Daily. Or something. I stopped going to therapy because I felt stupid about going and I don’t live in the right kind of town to warrant vacuous $300 hours. Bitching about my well-adjusted parents and how desperately I wished my anxiety would just “go away” was plainly gross, and a waste. Like, pretty sure almost every problem I have could be solved by a couple painful conversations taking place during a hurricane. Such a shame it doesn’t rain much here. Anyhow, I digress. 

Staying hydrated. It is essential to my character, my persona, if you will; to never be without either an elegant metal bottle (I’m loyal to the smooth enamelled S’well ones, printed to look like marble or a semi holographic solid) or a little 16oz tumbler with a metal straw. Hydroflasks were some of the worst things to happen to society. I want to preface this claim with the fact that I wanted one in the same way a teenage girl wants a new iPhone so she can keep up appearances with her dermatologist-dad friends who still have the XR, by the way. But I ended up spending the money on like, a minidress at Brandy Melville before it fled my city. Or maybe a Fresh Sugar tinted lipbalm. For the better, even though the dress has a busted zipper now and the lipbalm tube has inevitably gotten dinged and dented by the other contents of my mini-totebag. Unlike a car, though, a couple scuffs on your laptop or your luxury lipbalm tube looks kind of cool. Like, you’re not someone who values the pristine, unused quality of an item that was ambiguously intended to be used versus displayed on Instagram.  Now, I’m wondering why this paragraph about hydration is so fucking impossible to stay on track for. I literally drink several litres of water a day, and more tea on top of that. And sometimes an almond milk latte if I can budget it in. Not that I’m so anorexic I can’t afford a 45cal latte. They’re just not that important to me. Anyhow. Drinking lukewarm (on the cool side) water is better than ice-cold. Partially because I just get it out of the tap of my ensuite and I can’t be bothered to wait for it to run cold enough every time, and it just seems wasteful. Plus, there is something so.. skinny about drinking water at an “obscure” temperature. Trust me, I want to know why my thought process is like this too. My favorite tea is blueberry tea foraged in a side aisle at my local supermarket. I love a good commercial, high-end steep or fruit infusion as much as the next girl. Maybe more. My pantry is filled with tins labelled with things like “emerald jade organic” and “magic potion”, which is really just currants and butterfly pea flowers. But there is a necessary glamor about drinking dirt-cheap tea on the daily. Seriously, a box of 25 sachets is like, $3. At a higher point with my, um, Adderall problem, I spent like several times that on pills. I didn’t really need to include that, and could have linked the price point to the cost of a drugstore lipbalm, but I wrote it in. And I’m married to it, stubbornly, as all amateur writers should be when they wittle in a somewhat indecorous little joke. This tea is sooo good because it has a strong fruit-reminiscent taste (not as sweet as a fresh blueberry, but who wants that anyway?), it’s zero-calorie, it’s the most GORGEOUS color ever. The latte, the third drink in my little trifecta, is nothing special. But necessary. The trick is to use a milk frother to whip up sugar free syrup with instant coffee and a little bit of hot water in a glass. It’ll make the most luscious foam.. Top it off with almond milk. My dad is a coffee purist, owning both an upstairs keurig AND a downstairs one (among other more analogue methods, but I can’t name-drop, so what’s the point?), so he hates this drink. Now, calling oneself a plebian is so unglamorous and teetering on self-deprecating territory, dangerously close to insecurity. But I can use it here because I am at least posh enough to have a different pair of earrings for every outfit I could possibly come up with, and I only wear Patagonia if I am in a situation where I just have to wear fleece. Like I was saying. It’s such a simple drink, certainly not a delicacy, and… I had a joke about the word plebian but I keep getting up to refill my water and I fear I have forgotten about it. 

Next section; the importance of a good tinted balm

In the intro I alluded to how a girl’s collarbones function essentially as an identifier, the way a signature or fingerprint does. This is a lie, or at least an exaggeration. But one’s ultimate tinted lipbalm is  actually extremely indicative about who you are, as a person, as a member of society, even… 

If you are loyal to Dior Lipglow, I have a couple questions. One; did you shoplift one tube, once, and refill it with cheaper stuff afterwards? I did that. I consider it one of my better-kept secrets, but now you know. Might as well explain the catalyst for my parent’s first separation now, and the horrifying experience that was meeting my dad’s Manhattan sugar baby (?) at the age of thirteen, wearing an overalls dress from, like, Topshop or something else equally embarrassing. .. Kidding. I digress. It’s such a fancy lipbalm, and good too! It smells like thin mints! But I could just never justify cell phone monthly installation payment money on something I will inevitably talk off. I do own three, but two I stole (before I lost the nerve, somewhat unfortunately) and one, a boy(not)friend bought for me. This is not something I feel any remorse about, because his house was easily four thousand square feet and his sisters had a dedicated all-glass room for their shared peloton. Oil money. Ugh!

My personal favorite lip balm, and I have tried a frightening amount, has got to be the Nivea Fruit Shine collection. The frosted one is shit-ugly. Hideous. But the strawberry one is the love of my life. It’s such a pleasant red, looking healthy and rejuvenated and really completes any look. Only downside is it will always, hopefully not always, remind me of Charles. Kissing Charles, specifically. And him asking me what lipbalm it was, because he knew I was somewhat frivolous and definitive and would have a very long answer. But for whatever reason, I simply stated it was from “out of town”. Not really sure why I said that, but it plagues me (minorly) to this day. Of all the things to make up.. .. The peach one is a perfectly demure spring classic shade. Cherry exists too, but the only tube I have ever had the fortune of owning was purchased in Costa Rica and lost somewhere on the way home. Honestly tragic, it was the juiciest shade. Blackberry is perfect too, but I have to layer it with either peach or untinted lipbalm to avoid what I imagine TooPoor would choose if she believed in tinted lipbalm. I don’t mean this hatefully, I think she’s a queen, but super dark, smudgy makeup suits the eyes better in my opinion. Or something. Or something.

Afraid to bore the reader, I have to move on now. Maybe at a later date I will release an addendum on my ultimate lipbalm buying guide. But also, that is so deeply personal (and everyone needs the excuse of “hunting for the perfect staple shade!!”), so it is really not my place to have any authority on something so intimate and subjective. Etcetera. 

Moving on; Decorating your room

Here is a section I lifted out of my memoir document. It fits, because as enigmatic as I hope I am, I am also quite unchanging.

 I just pushed three hangers and two tiny strappy tops with the tags still on, off my bed. Most nights, all, these days, actually; I spend in my large but cluttered bedroom. I have a little ensuite with a jetted tub I’ve never used because I just never get around to it. There’s a plush grey rug, spanning the expanse of the room (covering an ugly cherry wood that doesn’t match the rest of the house; no clue why. I never asked, and the previous owners were eager to sell so they could finally ditch this town and retire in Montreal for the bagels, or Hawaii for the monk seals. Point is, I’ll never know) with loose beads and loose pills and little shards of glass from plier-crushed beads. I vacuum every day. The whole room tells you exactly the kind of person I am; the clutter I possess, the encapsulation of the projects I start, start, start and the hours I don’t sleep for and the clothes I tried on (these to sell, these to cut up with kitchen scissors; thrifted lululemon and aritzia and heaps of knits and plaid fabric..) I would not say the room is a mess. Lived in, maybe. Chopsticks and mugs and gum wrappers. Single dangle earrings. I just finished the last of my Creme Brulee eos lipbalm; disguised as a relic of 2015, I was gifted it Christmas of ‘20. I think my next waxy conquest will be a tinted Burt’s one I palmed a while back, before I lost the nerve. Peering around the room you will see shopping bags strewn about the mouth of my walk-in closet. Every surface has something shiny or colorful stacked up on it. Cluttered, busy, but intentional. Except for the walls, which are bare. Bare and gray and miles-tall when I lie flat on my back, high out of my mind, willing things to change but knowing I’m responsible for a first step I will always be too scared for. Bare, pristine, no gumtack. Empty, Like they’re waiting. I wait around a lot. It makes sense. That was an awful lot of words about my stupid blank walls when truly it does not bother me that much; I really just don’t get around to it. I have other things on the ground to tend to, like post-email nausea, addressing envelopes, marrying wire and bead.  Writing a document I care about because I am determined and I am alive, alive, alive, goddammit. 

Excerpt over. The memoir is coming out when I get famous, or something earth shattering happens. Like I become the world’s least remarkable entrepreneur, and I get retweeted by Colorpop. I don’t want to be the next Elizabeth Wurtzel. I read two of her memoirs one restless night, absorbing it to make up for the nutrients I didn’t that day (you can laugh. I think that is pretty clever), heart breaking a little bit. She writes about her struggles so intrinsically, you either get it, or you don’t. Anyway. She had the books and the fame from it, and she wrote more memoirs than I think a single person should. That is admirable. Aspirational, even. But I do not want to be like her. Where was I? Oh. Yes. Decorating/adorning/filling your room. Your room should serve as the kind of place to watch a movie (if you believe in film. I don’t) and put on ridiculous glittery eye makeup, or smoke an ~artistic cigarette~ or stay up all night on the phone, which is different from staying up all night simply on your phone. Chatting with someone you are tepidly in love with is much more exciting. Not chic as the whole affair is so juvenile, but fun regardless. It’s somewhere to keep your worldly possessions, too. I know I have a lot! Also, it is kind of thrilling to hide things in your room in little crevices only you know about. Now, unfortunately, everyone reading this will know too. But, like, I trust you not to really.. do anything about it. I keep my extra juul pods in the sliding box my apple pencil came in. That box is almost more useful than the pencil itself. I’m somewhat morally opposed to the iPad. Whole culture is so embarrassing! I have a tea tin with an ounce of golden teacher shrums in it. This is tossed in my closet among tins filled with other things, like lace trim and buttons. Which makes it actually a pretty terrible hiding spot, I see now… Anyhow. Keeping benign little secrets like that is so fun. You can tell I don’t have siblings. I sort of wish I did, but it is easier to believe there is something aristocratic about being an only child. Not sure if older-sister me would be egalitarian enough to share things. But that’s prophesying, which is kind of a waste of time. I live in the now, in a room positively cluttered with meaningless things that mean the world to me, chewing on my lip because my mouth is just so dry and 5gum is just not an after-8 indulgence. To live truly kitschly, you have to have somewhat hideous decor. Now, do not confuse dissonant, or incoherent, with what I mean by “hideous decor”. The kitsch room has as many surfaces to look at as possible, while also shying away from too many shelving units. Then you risk your room looking like a storage unit or something. When my mom renovated (re: paid someone to do it) our New York house so we could sell it, all our stuff was stacked up in a Cubesmart self storage. It was sort of horrifying, seeing my childhood home reduced to plastic storage tubs piled what felt like thirty feet high. Anyway. It’s just not an  inviting way to store things; I imagine it makes your room look like your stuff is all trapped in gelatin. The more fussy, tiny things you have out in the open, the better. Nail polish. Earring trees. Bowls full of rings and lighters and water color pans perched on your windowsill. A rack with the tackiest assortment of knits and bucket hats and baguette bags. And so forth.. Quickly surveying someone’s room is so telling. Bonus points if all your books are spine-in, except for your favorite ones, because you don’t want people to get the wrong idea. (that you read). 

[mr-entj]

Hello Mr. ENTJ 👋🏻 ENTP girl here. Like any other Ne-dom I have major struggles with discipline and commitment. This ended up, obviously, screwing my life and I have no idea what to do. I have problems figuring out what career should I choose, and this is depressing me because I'm ambitious and would like to find my place and succeed. What advise do you have on discipline? Or on how to stick with something even when is not fun all the time? I know that for us is very difficult and that maybe an advise for others might not work so good with us (our brain is programmed to jump from one topic to another) but is there anything you know that could help with this?

Sorry for the long ask, and thank you so much.

(ps: I have depression, which I'm already working on with proper help. But discipline related to study/work and goals is something I still haven't found an answer)

Related answer:

Hello! I've been trying to be better about procrastination, because I realize how detrimental it can be, not only to myself, but also to other people in group project situations. Do you have any tips on pacing comfortably or figuring out how to have an equal amount of school work each night?

Hey there. Full disclosure before I go into procrastination: I don’t procrastinate, I’ve never struggled with it, and throughout my life I’ve done everything in my power to avoid procrastinating for reasons we’ll skip because they aren’t relevant to your ask. For that reason, I struggle to answer questions around this topic because I have limited personal perspective and my default response tends to be: “Don’t wait, suck it up, and get it done.” Plus, what works for my personality type may not work for yours.

The good news is that I have extremely brilliant and insanely accomplished colleagues and direct reports with your personality type who have found ways to manage procrastination. Here are some of the solutions we’ve come up with and they’ve used that’ve worked which may be helpful for you and others.

Managing procrastination for xNTPs (applicable to xSTPs)

1. Choose goals you’re excited about. This should be inherently obvious but it’s actually a common problem. Do you even want to achieve the thing you’re trying to achieve? If not, achieving it will be an uphill battle from start to finish. Here’s my framework to get you started.

2. Fail early and fail fast. High Ne users need to explore possibilities before they can make a decision so explore them early and move on. Do you want to study art or music? Take both classes, now. Remove the question mark.

3. Create an external support system. Go talk to other people about your goals: friends, colleagues, classmates, family members, mentors, and have them keep you on track. Even better, get a therapist if that’s an option. You mentioned depression and that you’re working on it which is great, keep your mental health up. Set up weekly, bi-weekly, monthly check-ins with them to measure progress. This helps with two things: 1) it pulls your goals out of your mind and into reality by speaking it into existence (as an intuitive, this is a constant struggle) and 2) it creates a system to keep you accountable to those goals especially if you’re not making progress. Ask for help if you need it.

4. Get a mentor. Find successful people who are where you want to be that you want to emulate. Talk to them, ask them questions, and keep them close. If you don’t know anyone like that, then research them online, watch videos, read books, and study their thought processes and habits. This helps because you’ll be able to see that someone has already walked the path you’re on and it’s completely achievable. You need to be able to see the result, not just imagine it in your head. The second benefit is that you’ll be able to check your internal logic against external facts. Are you doing what you’re supposed to be doing to succeed? Is your method actually feasible? If not, what facts from other successful people contradict your logic? Compare, analyze, adjust, and adapt.

5. Choose your friends wisely. Most people are influenced by their environment and their social groups, but xxTPs are especially vulnerable to social influence due to having extraverted feeling (Fe). If you’re trying to become a neurosurgeon but your friends are playing Fortnite 14 hours per day, then you’ll feel a strong pull to do the same thing they’re doing. For this reason, you don’t need to cut them off, but you’ll need to distance yourself from people who are interfering with your ability to do deep work. Set expectations with them: “I can game on weekends only for 2-3 hours” and enforce those boundaries. Then, add new friends to your social circle who have similar goals as you.

6. Work in groups. There’s a quote: “Many hands make for light work.” If you’re studying for an exam, then study with other people. Schedule a study group where everyone is expected to contribute notes to review and discuss. Global pandemic? Schedule a Zoom studying session. This accomplishes a few things: 1) it distributes the burden of crappy tasks and dense material among many people to become more manageable 2) it checks your logic and understanding of the material to ensure it’s accurate 3) it creates external accountability as covered in #1 and 4) it builds relationships with other people who may have similar goals as you and who may become part of your lifelong network. In general, xNTPs struggle with self-imposed deadlines and internal discipline but they tend to respond better when there’s a risk of letting other people down.

7. Break large goals into small chunks. Self-explanatory. Take a large goal like becoming a doctor which can take 10+ years (4 years of undergrad, 4 years of medical school, 2+ years of residency) and break it down into smaller goals like 1) master biology 101, master chemistry 101, etc. 2) get a research lab position studying something you find interesting 3) talk to some physicians in the specialty that you’re interested in 4) complete a few MCAT classes, etc. Small wins build confidence, increase momentum, and create gratification. 

8. Burn all bridges. xNTPs are masters of creative excuses and you must destroy all possible escape routes that can be used to get out of doing the tasks you must do. If you’re trying to get into better physical shape, then sign a non-refundable gym membership so that you’ll lose your money if you don’t go. If you’re trying to be more consistent with studying at the library, then volunteer to drive your study group so that you’ll let them down if you don’t drive. If you’re distracted by television, then sell your TV and cut your cable subscription. If you’re addicted to Tumblr, then delete your account. 

9. Summon the procrastination demon-- early. You know the demon I’m talking about, it’s the one that comes out right before a deadline that chases you to finish your work. Summon it yourself. Have you been wanting to write a book? Send out invitations to your friends and family to schedule a reading.

10. Show off. When you accomplish something, talk about it with other people. Share your knowledge, teach a class, write an online post, and distribute that wisdom to other people. It creates an added layer of gratification from your success.

[magicianapprenticelyra]

Day 5: Memories

@sweetalnazar

Featuring Lyra Nguyen and Asra Alnazar; Canon Timeline

CW/TW: From when Asra finds out Lyra died from the Red Plague, to the aftermath of her resurrection.

1. Dynasty [MIIA]

Some days It's hard to see If I was a fool Or you a thief. Made it through the maze To find my one in a million And now you're just a page torn from the story I'm building

Asra,

If you find this letter, it means the inevitable happened. I wish our last conversation with each other could’ve been in better spirits. Been in a better time, even.

There’s a lot I could’ve said before you closed the door on me. I don’t know. Maybe committing to helping out in this plague was a fool’s errand. You told me that before you left, I think. I don’t know. My memory’s fuzzy in the worst ways possible now.

I’m going to affix the red ribbon on the door handle outside. You’ll probably have seen it beforehand, and learned what happened to me that way.

I released Nook back into the forest; he's a tough little guy. He'll be fine.

I miss you and Faust . . . I miss everyone. I'm so sorry I'm leaving you all like this. I'm so sorry.

With all my love,

Lyra

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

2. The Night We Met [Lord Huron]

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you. Oh, take me back to the night we met.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

3. Pierre [Ryn Weaver]

I can't let him in. You call me up and ask me how I've been. I'll call your bluff and Keep on telling, telling, telling you lies. Keep on telling, telling, telling you lies. No, I can't let them in. You play me rough, but I won't let you in. So, call my bluff, I'll Keep on telling, telling, telling you lies. Keep on telling, telling, telling you lies.

“Another dead end?”

Asra sighs, nodding. The winds are hostile, breaking chunks off of once manicured hedges. The skies are thundering, full of lightning. He remains seated at the base of the willow tree, not caring that he’s soaked through.

“It’s okay, you know? You and the others are doing your best to figure it out.”

“I’m still no closer to finding a cure, Ly.”

Silence.

Asra breathes in through his nose, exhaling softly.

A cure . . . right. She’d see right through me.

“How’s Doctor Devorak?”

The magician rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Droplets of rain fly off from the ends of his curls. One they splash onto the ground, they become indistinguishable from the muddy dirt all around him.

“Still complicated?”

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Okay . . .” He can still hear her soft voice. Or, was it his mind’s interpretation of it now?

A bolt of lightning illuminates the darkness into white. The boom of thunder this time around is even louder than the last.

“You should head in.”

“Why?”

“Asra, please—!” Her voice breaks, an echo of the last time they spoke in The Shop.

Guilt stabs into his heart. It makes another home for itself by vacating it’s previous nook to find another cranny among his heartstrings.

Asra closes his eyes, exhaling deeply. He leans back against the bark of the willow tree, lifting his hands to cover his face. Hot tears cascade down his cheeks as he’s left gasping, her name linked with his sobbed apologies.

The rain continues to pour.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

4. Flowers [Hadestown, Original Broadway Cast]

Flowers, I remember fields Of flowers, soft beneath my heels. Walking in the sun I remember someone. Someone by my side Turned his face to mine, And then I turned away Into the shade. . . . You, the one I left behind If you ever walk this way Come and find me lying in the bed I made.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

5. 715 - CR∑∑KS [The Nor'easters’s cover]

Toiling with your blood I remember something In B, un—rationed kissing on a night second to last Finding both your hands as second sun came past the glass And oh, I know it felt right and I had you in my grasp

Oh then, how we gonna cry? Cause it once might not mean something? And love at second glance, it is not something that we'll need Honey, understand that I have been left here in the reeds But all I'm trying to do is get my feet out from the crease.

It has to work. It has to work . . . it has to work!

It’s been months in the making. For the first time in months, I have hope. It’s been hellish without you. I’m going to make it up to you when you come back . . .

I promise.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

6. Run to You [Pentatonix]

I will break down the gates of heaven. A thousand angels stand waiting for me. Ooh take my heart (take my heart) And I'll lay down my weapons. Break my shackles to set me free.

The two of them are in their shared quarters, just a few feet apart and facing each other. Lyra’s hands are balled up into fists at her sides; Asra’s hands are held up in front of himself, trying to calm her down.

“Asra, stop trying to protect me!”

“Lyra—”

“Why do you keep hiding things from me?!” Tears threaten to fall from her eyes. “I didn’t take you for a liar—”

“I’m not a liar—!”

“THEN TELL ME WHAT I FUCKING WANT TO KNOW!”

Everything around them trembles from the echo of her voice. Asra grimaces, his ears ringing from her bellowing rage. He turns to the side, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He rubs the shell of his ears and tugs on the bottom of his earlobe to stop the ringing.

Lyra stomps over to the pillow pile beside their bed, stopping before its outermost edge. She leans forward, eyes closing as she bodily flops onto the heap of cushions.

She's hyperventilating. In spite of that, Lyra manages to gather some pillows to place over her head. Without further prompting, she screams out her frustration.

Asra throws his hands up in the air in response, scowling. He turns around, leaving her to scream whatever she needs out of her system. He grabs his bag—with Faust coiled anxiously in it—and storms out the front door, slamming it behind himself.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

When Asra returns to The Shop the day after, there’s the smell of burnt food permeating the air. Along with the acrid aroma, there are notes of vanilla. There are ashy remnants of the incense cones placed on small plates throughout the bottom floor. Asra doesn’t stare too long at them, instead ascending the stairs.

“Lyra?”

“Here!”

She’s cleaning out the stove. Just off to the side is the stove salamander, happily sunning itself on a nearby windowsill.

Staying downstairs was the better option.

Before Asra could retreat, Lyra pleads with him to wait a moment. He stops in his tracks, turning around. He pointedly looks everywhere but at her sooty hands and sleeves.

“. . . I’m sorry about yesterday,” Lyra apologizes. “I was really upset, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair to you or Faust.” She looks at the snake circled around Asra’s shoulders, expression guilt-ridden.

Asra swallows, exhaling softly. “Apology accepted.” He looks around, sniffing the air.

“Why does it smell like something burnt around here?”

“Oh—that was my fault. I burned dinner last night. You didn’t come home, so I had what remained for breakfast. Ate downstairs . . .”

“It was burnt? And you still ate it?” Asra was impressed, to say the least.

Lyra nods. “I don’t have an upset stomach or anything like that yet.”

“You probably will if you keep eating that much burnt food.” Asra sets down his leather bag, making sure Faust settles safely onto the floor. He pulls out several bags of herbs, along with a round, rectangular-shaped thing wrapped in paper.

“What’s that?”

“Wash your hands first,” Asra insists, looking away from her.

Once Lyra does as told, he explains, “I got half a loaf of pumpkin bread for you. If it’s alright, I’ll make us some tea?”

Lyra nods, carefully grabbing a knife. She takes the pumpkin bread and cuts some thick slices for herself. She nibbles into one, walking downstairs to clean up the plates full of burnt incense.

“I’m gonna open the shop after I’m done cleaning!” Lyra calls from midway down the staircase.

“Okay!” Asra replies wearily. Once Lyra is properly out of sight, Asra slumps over the table. He exhales deeply.

He couldn’t tell her any of it yet. Not yet . . . it would be far too soon. When Lyra even glimpses people that she used to know from . . . from before, she gets those debilitating headaches—

Or worse.

Asra shakes his head, getting to his feet once more. He gets the kettle filled with water, gingerly adding wood into the stove. After gently poking the stove salamander awake, the stove is lit.

It’s not long before the bell downstairs jingles. A customer talks with Lyra, the latter quickly moving around to get what they needed.

Asra’s thoughts wander until the kettle starts to spit and whistle. He moves it off of the stove, carefully pouring the tea into the appropriate cups: lapsang souchong for him, and black tea for Lyra. He carefully carries the cups, and another thick slice of pumpkin bread, downstairs on a wooden tray.

Lyra’s just wrapping things up with the customer, and it looks like she finished her slice from earlier, too. Perfect!

Asra balances the tray on one hand, waving at Lyra to get her attention. She sees him in her peripheral, using a hand to signal hang on, give me a moment!

She thanks the customer for their business, then waves Asra to come over.

“That smells amazing,” She splits the pumpkin bread slice with her hands, taking her portion. She jams her piece into her mouth, making Asra laugh. As Lyra chews, she fans the air over her tea cup; she drinks her tea carefully.

“I couldn't find any milk, so it’s a little stronger than usual,” Asra apologizes.

“My fault there,” Lyra swallows, coughing. “The last quart of it curdled. I didn’t have time to stop by the market yet.” She winces, setting down her cup. Asra does as well.

Before he can say anything, the door of the shop slams open, startling the both of them. Asra looks to the door, frowning and ready to tell the person off—

The color drains from Asra’s face, seeing who it was.

“Lyra!” Neha grins. “There you are, you made it!”

The air is stolen from Asra’s lungs, seeing the teenager there. Lyra’s eyes are wide in turn, uncomprehending.

“Oh c’mon, can I get a hug?” Neha steps into the shop. She closes the door behind her with a foot, arms outstretched toward Lyra.

“Neha, wait—!”

Lyra’s knees buckle under her. Asra isn’t fast enough to prevent her head from smacking into the side of the glass case. Lyra crumples down onto the ground, her body thudding heavily against it. As Neha screams in horror, Asra is frozen in place.

A/N: I couldn’t write scenes with a few of the songs. To help with that, some lyrics are highlighted in the hopes that it’ll make sense of the story that I can see with Asra dealing with the loss of MC and subsequent resurrection after the failed ritual.

Inspiration with the “red ribbon on the door handle” was from [HERE] and [HERE].

Nook is Lyra’s familiar. At the time just before the Red Plague and Lyra’s imminent death, however, he was The Shop’s mouser/a mimic Lyra encountered and took in. How Lyra came across him is detailed [HERE]

And to conclude, the last section is alluding to what happens in Neha’s section of this entry I did for Day 11 of arcana-echoes’s event last year [HERE].

The long and short of it with where Neha, Walterine, James and Bảo were during the Red Plague: they were in Prakra before and and for a while after Vesuvia was on a lockdown.

Bảo had been breathing in a lot of ash coming from the Lazaret—worked part time as a dockworker to make ends meet—and needed treatment that Dr. Devorak couldn’t give. While they left, Lyra decided to stay and apprentice under the doctor.

Thanks for reading, guys! Have a good day/night.

[veryvincible]

Hey! 👋🏼 I was looking at Tonys panel with Carol and his AA panels. It got me thinking how can a person like Tony .. who is an atheist, a believer of science and a confident engineer rely on AA which has a religious foundation (the 12 steps) and place so power on God. I know secular AA have different takes on it and encourage a personal definition of God as any higher power the person may choose. But doesn’t that defeat Tonys belief? Because I don’t think he believes in a higher power regardless if it’s a deity or not.

This is a wonderful question. There’s a lot of nuance to the answer, in my opinion, because I think there are some things called into question here that Tony (very realistically) treats with a lot of complexity.

Firstly, Tony’s atheism is kind of... I don’t want to say it’s up in the air, because at this point, I think it’s kind of made its place in canon and fanon both. But, most likely as a result of the times in which he was created, he has been shown in canon (at least in the early stages of his life) to follow some sort of organized religion. This is from Iron Man Vol. 1 #164, and it’s... not strong evidence for him being a spiritual man, as most people who call themselves “not that religious” tend to be religious by way of traditions, but. You know. It is what it is.

Of course, we could dismiss this as yet another thing that early canon imposed on a character who wouldn’t be like that at this point in time, but I think it brings up interesting beats in the way Tony’s character has progressed over the years.

Considering him as someone who may have been raised as traditionally religious makes sense in the context of defining events, as well, given that we watch him pray the Lord’s prayer in #14 of Iron Man Vol. 4, one of his Civil War tie-ins.

Given the proximity to the alcohol (and the point he’s at in the timeline, here), one could also easily assume that even if he had no religious background, the very presence of the Lord’s prayer in AA meetings could have formed a connection in his head between this “worship” and sobriety-- at the very least, enough of one that the prayer strengthens the effectiveness of his willpower. It seems the little push he needs to pour a drink down the drain is borderline Pavlovian.

There’s actually a lot of religious imagery in Tony comics in general. He’s a man with a suit facing conundrums of cosmic proportions. It’s difficult for him to keep rationale exclusively within the range of earthly probabilities.

Point is, his atheism doesn’t come from his disbelief in a higher power. It’s quite the contrary, actually. His atheism comes from a belief that there’s no single entity that could claim the title of God, that any being willing to try has, just by being, already forfeited the title.

Which is a fair assessment to make, given that he’s fought many people claiming to be Gods, and they’ve all bled. He’s also watched people worship Gods that turned out to not... really be Gods, whether they were otherworldly beings, his buddy Thor, or, uh, himself. The idea of him, at least. In space.

Because of course that happened.

But Tony actually does have a higher power to give himself up to in these meetings. In Civil War II #1, he very explicitly states it:

“I respect the future. I believe in the future. I worship at its feet.”

“The Future” to him is something he can affect, certainly, but he’s aware of just how massive it is, just how massive all of time is compared to the few decades he’ll spend on earth. This is his higher power, his cosmic deity of choice.

It can’t bleed. It can’t falter. It’s inevitable.

And this mindset is... pretty in line with everything else he’s done. He’s referred to himself as a “necessary monster.” He’s implied many times over that he thinks he’s rotten and potentially dangerous, but he’s also intelligent and capable and he wants to do the right thing, even if he doesn’t always know what that is. 

If you’ve ever been in a religious environment, you’ll probably recognize his mindset going into any problem: there’s always a solution, always information he’s missing, always a “right choice” he’s looking for with a domino effect that’ll be as favorable as possible for future generations. He trusts in the future the way people trust in God, with an awareness that he’ll never have all the pieces to make sense of everything, but he can have enough information to act. And he must act, or else his worth, his right to be alive, even, is at stake.

So, needless to say, he’s not praying to a mainstream God. But religious imagery isn’t and has never been off-putting to him, and though he certainly could seek out unreligious (is that a word?) alternatives to AA, I find it hard to believe that he would, given just how influential his higher power of choice is as it guides him through life. He puts everything at stake for it, going so far as to make choices that will destroy not only himself, but also his relationships with his loved ones if it means he’s doing what he perceives to be the right thing.

Secondly, even if he were a man who had no belief in any form of higher power, not even a stand-in for it, AA still might not be something he’d discard in favor of an alternative.

Religion serves as a guide. Most often, it has “do”s and “do not”s, certain beliefs it supports, and a kind of... basic explanation of what human life is and how it should be treated. One of the more common threads among most religions that I’m aware of (I am not an expert in religious studies; please don’t @ me) is the idea that human life is generally sacred, and as such, people should treat each other with respect. Yes, some texts can contradict this, but the general rule is “be nice to each other!” when you really look at the basics of what people are trying to teach. At its core, religion is linked to what we as humans already tend to for the sake of survival: compassion.

As such, though we might not always identify with religion as a concept, it’s not difficult to identify with some religious morals and teachings. Some people take to certain teachings better than others-- it’s super case-by-case-- but if you’re stuck in a religious environment listening to some preaching or anything, there’s probably going to be something you can relate to, and some way you can morph and adopt the message. This isn’t, like, all-encompassing, by the way. Of course there are some things that atheists and religious folk will never be able to relate to within each other, but.

You get what I mean.

I’m an atheist myself. I spent a chunk of my schooling at a religious institution. At best, there were messages that affected me deeply (as they were hard-hitting even when I stripped them of the God-worshipping aspects). At worst, I had to grit my teeth through some assignments, though I felt mostly indifferent (if slightly resentful at times, more out of frustration with the closed-mindedness of the administration than with the concept of religion itself). My experience isn’t universal, of course-- some people in my shoes were more frustrated and angry than I was, and I can see why. But my point is, being an atheist in and of itself (even one as strict as Tony) doesn’t render religious imagery useless.

For example, if you happen to pass by a pastor preaching about struggles with guilt, you might not identify with the sentiment of “Give your worries to God and know He’ll take care of you.” However, you could identify with the sentiment of, “Those little things, those side effects of decisions you’ve made? They’re here. Those decisions have been made. You’re allowed to swallow past the reality of what it is that’s passed and move on. You’re allowed to let go of it, so long as you’re better today than you were yesterday.”

It’s especially easy to do this if you’re listening to or being exposed to content from a religion you’re already familiar with; in Tony’s case, if we assume he was a Christian at one point or was raised with Christian ideals (not unbelievable in the slightest, given his circumstances and upbringing), then he wouldn’t have to do a lot of heavy lifting in order to get to “core messages” of certain Christian teachings that he could still identify with. Couple that with the higher power mentioned before, and... it’s not hard to see what might be appealing to him about AA, and it’s not hard to see why it was so effective at sticking in his mind all the way through his darkest periods in life.

Now comes the less healthy part.

There’s also an aspect of self-flagellation to it that I feel Tony might identify with on a deeper level. We’ve seen him hate himself openly, and we know how he regards himself. Even if he managed to find himself in a courthouse-like environment where the religious undertones were more about judgment than recovery, I don’t know that that would necessarily... push him away? He’s already told himself there’s something rotting and evil at his core many times over. He’s already committed himself to a lifestyle of atonement and progress, punishing himself when he fails to accomplish things no human reasonably could and barely praising himself when he doesn’t fail. Do I think these kinds of meetings would be totally sustainable for him, given that he clearly needs to feel pride or relief on some level for conquering his demons? No, not really, but. I don’t think he’d abandon them straight away.

Besides, every healing environment he’s been shown in has been more on the welcoming, open side, even if we only get to see a bare bones interpretation of AA (with deeper exploration happening more with Tony’s response to it, or his and Carol’s responses to each other) in canon. He’s in a good place with it, and it’s very nice to see.

Tl;dr: Again, great question. At the end of the day, I think the combination of self-loathing, his desire for progress, and his conceptualization of “the future” as his higher power makes AA a good fit for him despite his lack of a belief in "God” as an entity.

[mortemersgf]

cassiopeia and cepheus

ride or die: mona x f!mc (ellie wheeler)

summary: ellie visits mona in prison to find her girlfriend much softer than she remembered.

warnings: none, just fluff

word count: 1.5k

a/n: happy new year. school has been kicking my ass but i hope you’re all well! this is the first fic i’ve completed since like forever so bear with me 😭😭 enjoy <3

The thrumming beat of her heart doesn’t cease as Ellie collapses into one of the chairs. She releases a long breath, biting back laughter at the absurdity of the whole situation. Toby and I really just forged identities and lied to prison guards so that I can see my incarcerated girlfriend, she thinks.

The security camera in the corner emitting a red glow dims to a dull black. Toby’s work. He wanted to give the two privacy and to ensure their ploy stays undiscovered. He’s a wonderful guy, he really is. The man instantly agreed to Ellie’s scheme, grinning with enthusiasm she’s seen only when he tinkers with sleek vehicles.

She drums her fingers against the metal tabletop as she waits for Mona’s arrival. What do I say? Will she get mad at me for breaking our promise? How’s her wound? Is she planning to break out of prison yet? Did she miss me? Dozens of thoughts course through Ellie’s mind, but she is almost certain words will fail her when she sees Mona.

There’s a jiggle at the door.

Ellie stands and fumbles with her satchel, rooting through the bag for her folder. A guard steps in and scans the room dutifully. He pauses seeing her pull out sheets of interview questions and steps aside. “You get one hour,” he informs curtly, shutting the door behind him with a hollow clang.

Ellie drops the act at once, feeling her heart rate decrease. Too eager, her head snaps up to meet the woman in front of her.

Mona looks, well, like Mona. Her raven hair is as silky as ever and the scowl she has on her face… it’s her. There’s a new tattoo peeking out from the short sleeve of her uniform. Strangely, the baby blue prisoner outfit looks good on her. Screw that—Mona looks good in everything and nothing.

“I never consented to being a part of your documentary, so think twice about getting me to talk,” Mona says, moving to sit in the chair across from Ellie. Her face is of practiced disinterest. Classic Mona.

Ellie breaks out into a smile at her usual snarkiness. She’s missed her fiery Mona. She steadies her slightly shaky hands as she strips herself of her disguise. The cap is tossed aside, the wig is pulled off, and her glasses are settled atop the cool tabletop.

“You sure about that?” she asks.

Mona looks like she’d just seen a ghost. The dirty look on her face transforms into one of incredulity as she scans Ellie up and down, to make sure she is indeed seeing what she is seeing. After confirming that the woman standing before her is truly her Ellie, not some junior reporter aching to unravel Mona’s life story, she shoots to her feet and pulls her grinning girlfriend into a deep kiss. Mona tastes just how Ellie remembered: sweet and intoxicating.

Her grip on the back of Ellie’s head is almost vice-like, but the latter doesn’t mind it at all. Mona’s touch simply reminds her of the validity of the situation. Slowly, her hand trails to Ellie’s wet cheek, caressing it gently.

“God, you’re so stupid,” Mona mumbles after pulling away. A small, amused laugh escapes her as she sees Ellie sniffling. “Stop crying.”

“Don’t laugh! I really missed you.” Ellie says, wiping away her fallen tears with the back of her hand.

“So much that you resorted to committing a crime?” Mona asks, nodding at the wig, “You make a cute reporter, though.”

“You got shot for me, so I think we’re even.”

There’s a moment of silence as Mona makes her way to Ellie’s side, dark eyes searching hers. She tucks a chunk of hair behind Ellie’s ear and smiles wryly, “I told you not to wait for me.”

“You and I both know I was bound to break that promise sooner or later.”

“I know. I’m just that irresistible.”

Ellie’s shoulders shake as she laughs. She folds Mona into a hug, breathing in the subtle smell of her shampoo. A sigh of comfort slips past her mouth as their bodies meld together. It’s impossible to describe the feeling that courses through Ellie’s body in that instant. For too many nights, she has pressed a pillow to her chest, pretending it was Mona that was in her arms. She almost forgot how good her hugs were. They were safe, and they were comforting. As long as Ellie was wrapped in Mona’s arms, no harm could ever come to her.

“Hey, you got a new tattoo,” Ellie says, pulling away.

“Oh. I did.” Mona says, as if she forgot the tattoo was there. She almost looks embarrassed as her fingers brush against the tatted dotted lines.

“It’s a constellation, isn’t it?”

“So people keep telling me.”

“I didn’t know you were into stars.”

“I’m not. I got this for you, dummy.”

“Me?”

“This is Cassiopeia and Cepheus,” Mona says, rolling up her sleeve. Two tattoos, shaped like a house and the letter W, are inked into her pale skin. Ellie brushes her thumb across the art. Beautiful.

Mona continues, “I got this because... I liked their love story. It reminded me of us.”

Ellie’s face splits into a teasing grin. Mona, the same badass who can drive a car like no other, who took a bullet for her, got herself inked because of Ellie. She didn’t think she could love this woman any more, but time and time again, that proves to be false.

“God,” Mona says, scowling at the ground, cheeks warming, “this is more embarrassing than when I got shot. Don’t say anything. I don’t even—”

Ellie stops her embarrassed ramble with a soft kiss. She cups Mona’s pink cheeks and murmurs, “I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you big softie.”

Mona gives Ellie a gentle shove, breathing out a scoff.

For the next half hour, they talk. Prison life, school life, and everything in between. Mona says she’s content. She keeps to herself mostly and stays out of trouble like Ellie had asked. As for the crew, Ellie hasn’t heard from any of them aside from Toby. The two of them ran into each other at a local cafe one day and stayed in touch with much discretion.

Mona hums out a response, absentmindedly running her fingers along Ellie’s forearm in a random pattern as she speaks. “It’s better this way. You should lose contact with him after this.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“No, but you know better than anyone how grueling this life is, don’t you, babe?”

Ellie responds with a good natured eye-roll.

“Tell me Cassiopeia and Cepheus’ story,” she says, capturing Mona’s hand. Ellie slides her fingers between hers, smiling softly at their joined hands. This is so surreal, she thinks to herself, Her hands are so soft…

“It’s not that exciting,” Mona says. She rests her chin in her palm, avoiding Ellie’s eager eyes.

“It was exciting enough for you to get two tattoos, so spill!”

“Fine. Cassiopeia was someone with a truckload of faults, but her lover, Cepheus, adored her despite it all. One day, she was hurled into the sky for angering Hera. She stayed stuck among the stars, and that idiot Cepheus loved her so damn much he wanted to be thrown into the stars to be with her.”

“I really didn’t peg you to be the type of person to like stuff like this.”

“I thought the story was stupid. It is stupid. But staying confined in a cell for hours gets you thinking.”

“And what have you concluded?”

“That they’re messed up, but they still love each other.”

As much as Ellie was thinking about Mona from her dormitory, Mona was thinking about her just as much from a cell. She loves her. She loves her so much. “I love you, Mona,” Ellie says, untangling their hands just so she can press a chaste kiss to her palm.

Mona, in return, takes the opportunity to pinch Ellie’s cheek, not harshly but hard enough for her to squirm. “Do not use this against me, ever, got it?”

She laughs, batting away Mona’s hand. “Alright, alright!”

The digital watch strapped around Ellie’s wrist sounds a soft beep amidst her struggle. Five minute warning. Her face falls so evidently that Mona can’t resist pinching her cheek again.

“Time to go, I take it?” she asks.

Ellie mumbles a reply, nodding. Reluctantly, she stands and slips on her glasses and wig. She adjusts it accordingly, ensuring all stray strands of her own hair are hidden. After a moment’s worth, Mona moves around the table, snaking her arms around Cassie’s torso as she fixes on her cap.

She rests her chin on her girlfriend’s shoulder, mumbling, “I don’t want you to go.”

A pleasant shiver runs down Ellie’s spine with Mona’s breath fanning over her ear. She curses the absence of a bed in this dingy room in her head, huffing out a quiet sigh at what could've been a proper reunion. Nevertheless the slight regret, she spins around to embrace Mona, pecking her right on the forehead.

“If I’m being honest, I think prison has softened you,” Ellie grins, lowering her voice, “I’ll be back before you know it. The next time we meet, I’m taking you with me.”

“Ambitious,” Mona remarks, chuckling softly, “That’s really sweet, but don’t bother. I have something planned with some of the inmates.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Mona says, her nose grazing against Ellie’s. Just before she closes the distance between them once more, she adds, “You’ll see me soon enough, gorgeous. That’s a promise I’ll fight anything to keep.”

[nezumiismissing]

Control Through Culture and the Lack of It

Ok so before we get started here I would like to just give a big thank you to everyone who came to my panel during the convention all the way back in September and listened to me ramble out the first draft of this! We had some great discussion and everyone brought up great points that all came together to make this post happen, and it wouldn’t have been nearly as good without all of your input! I also profusely apologize for taking this long to get this done, but sometimes you have 18 college credits and 30 hours a week of work that have to come first! Now, on with the topic:

When we look at the city of No.6, we see a world that appears, for the most part, free of any defining cultural characteristics. It would appear, in fact, that as part of the city’s construction, what we would normally associate with such a society’s culture has been purposely removed as a factor in the citizens’ lives. The “removal” of culture as a contributing factor in the city of No.6 is highly effective in what it was meant to do; separating citizens from the “other” while reinforcing the identity of citizenship and treating it as not only a good thing, but the only acceptable way of being. In the minds of the citizens, this is a functional system, as they are the ones who have benefited from it, and they are able to live comfortable lives free of the suffering that is inflicted upon “others”, creating the sense that despite their internal differences, they still constitute a distinct group. But while at the citizens’ level they have been chosen as existing on the top, the picture is much different for those ruling the city. While the nonexistence of culture functions as a way to dehumanize outsiders and reinforce No.6′s position as superior (ie. it does not need culture to be a complete society), it also serves as a highly efficient way of making sure that the citizens are also unable to truly empathize with and care about the other citizens, or any other humans for that matter. Because the city is all they know, and they have been conditioned to not be able to understand anything outside of that context, the “othering” of those outside the walls by the citizens and No.6’s government becomes that much easier, as the understanding of “citizen” to those in the city is equivalent on some level to their understanding of being human, making anyone outside of the citizen category not only lesser, but also not fully human, and justifying the violence used against them for the purposes of supporting and expanding the city. In a less explicit way this is also functioning within No.6, as citizenship is viewed as a single, mostly homogenous group, and so it becomes impossible to view the lower classes as being treated unfairly. In their eyes, citizenship is equivalent to safety from injustice, and so any violence or mistreatment experienced by a citizen is justified based on their perceived noncompliance with the city’s norms.

By removing culture entirely from the picture, No.6 not only limits what its citizens are able to express in terms of art and politics, but also in their own self-expression and understanding of the human experience. This is probably most clear with Safu, who at the beginning of the story shows an almost complete inability to recognize and express basic human emotions in a way that would be seen as appropriate and useful to the average person reading/watching the story. This type of behavior, shown more subtly by several other characters throughout the story, distances us from them. While the lack of any existing social norms would usually allow space for us to impose our own norms onto the city, which in many cases is what happens, these micro level interactions, instead of coming off as a blank canvas for us to fill in, instead are just off-putting and strange, completely distanced from what we would recognize as a normal interaction, and that distance is perhaps the clearest example of culture we get to see in the story, as it reflects a set of norms that is completely separated and distinct from what we are used to seeing.

No.6 as an entity exists to alienate its citizens from the rest of the world, positioning them as existing “elsewhere”, and as being “other”, with No.6 existing as the “real” world. However once we, and Shion, are removed from this context, first through his meeting with Nezumi and again when he moves to West Block, we see that while No.6 exists as a template upon which to place our own social structures and systems, it is the “elsewhere” and “other” that I think ends up being more relatable to most of us. Even if we haven’t lived in extreme poverty or experienced much in the way of suffering, the West Block is a world that, more than anything, feels human. There is culture in the West Block; we see the food people eat and what an average day looks like for those who live there. We understand the issues that they face on a daily basis because they are concrete; hunger, violence, homelessness, much different from the highly technical and abstract problems facing those within the walls. There is diversity among this group, but there are still norms in place (no matter how questionable) that hold it all together in a way that feels organic and far removed from the isolated, expressionless world of No.6.

So, it should also be stated at this point that when I reference No.6’s “removal” of culture, this is not an entirely accurate description of what is happening. At its core, culture is simply social aspects of a group that differentiate it from another group, and that is something that can never be fully and purposefully removed. But what the city does do in order to replicate this effect is remove other groups as a point of comparison, leaving only one culture to be learned, accepted, and practiced. We can say that No.6 has no culture only because the citizens do not perceive that other people live any differently than they do. And as we see with Safu’s travels to No.5, as well as our own experiences learning about the city, the realization that other ways of living do exist completely shatters the illusion of No.6 as a perfect society, making its issues immediately clear. No.6 does have a culture. It is a culture of authoritarianism, nationalism, and isolationism. The city is to be worshipped and given absolute loyalty, to the point that social activities not in the city’s interest come with harsh punishments, and knowledge of anything outside of the city is limited only to those who have demonstrated an extraordinary level of commitment to the project, intentionally or not. While social norms and laws are generally viewed as overlapping but distinct, with many norms not legally enforced and many laws viewed as universal rather than cultural, in No.6 there is no such distinction.

So where do we, the reader/watcher, fit into this equation? I mentioned at the beginning that the lack of easily identifiable culture in No.6 is what makes the city and the story easily relatable to us, as we are able to layer our own culture and ideas on top of what is otherwise a blank city. But if No.6 does have a culture as described in the last paragraph, then where does that leave us? Now the easy answer here is that in recent times (including when the novels were originally written) many places around the world have faced an increase in the types of ideologies that make up No.6, and our viewing No.6 as a reflection of our own society shows an understanding (either implicit or explicit) that this shift in dominant ideology is occurring in the real world, that authoritarianism is still a prevalent part of our lives. But that answer is no fun, and is actually extremely depressing, so I’m going to point out some other aspects of the relationship between No.6 and our own world as well. 

Although the culture of No.6 does exist, it isn’t blatantly discussed or shown in a way that most people would traditionally associate with “culture”. We don’t generally treat government and political ideology as part of a society’s culture, as so much of our everyday lives is determined by norms and practices that aren’t necessarily directly dictated by political systems. This is why No.6, despite having such a strong presence, also feels so blank. It looms so large over the events of the story and yet, once we are outside of it, we see that it has basically no impact on everyday occurrences outside of its walls. Unlike the West Block, where we see so many of the things we associate with culture; food and music and marketplaces and so on; No. 6 just doesn’t really have any of these, and what does exist doesn't really have a distinct form separated from any other modern industrialized nation. It is easy for us to imagine then, that perhaps the people in No.6 live similarly to us, that they share many of our values and understandings of the world, and have the same everyday concerns that we have. So much of what we use to understand a society is just not mentioned that the story basically forces you to impose yourself and your worldview onto it. It forces you to take part in the story and forces the story to take a shape that makes societal critique impossible to ignore.

On the other hand, besides just having a feeling of being more “alive”, the West Block also has its reasons for being the more relatable of the two places, at least for a solid chunk of the people who are going to be experiencing the story. Despite the fact that the structure of No.6 is meant as a representation of the issues found within the modern industrialized world, the position from which we are seeing those issues is skewed. I have touched on this in my post about Getsuyaku, and will definitely go into more depth on it in the future, but outside of Lost Town, No.6 exists as an upper middle class utopia only. There is no room in their world for regular working people, or those framed as being “unproductive” in society, such as the elderly. While wealth is a complicated topic when talking about No.6, class is not, and it is clear that the ways in which class manifests are strikingly similar to the real world. So where does West Block fit into this? Well, the reality is that a significant percentage of the people reading or watching No.6 do not belong to the upper middle class, or even the middle class. A lot of us are working class or poor (or both depending on how you categorize classes), and even if the West Block is a somewhat extreme example, those people, along with those in Lost Town, have far much more in common with us than those living in the regular districts of No.6 or in the gated area of Chronos. So while the city may reflect our own society in significant ways, and accurately describes the “culture” of that society, it only does so through the lens of someone who is successful within that structure, leaving it “blank” and without culture for those of us who have not had such an experience and view that position as something completely distanced from ourselves, or that we only encounter from a subordinate position.

In the world of fiction, there basically are no rights or wrongs when it comes to writing culture. That’s kind of the point of fiction. And to a certain extent every story is going to have some aspect of the society it was written in in it, because culture is just an unavoidable part of every person’s life that dictates everything about how they see the world. But through the story of No.6 we get to see that influence from several perspectives, both within and outside of the story, showing not only a reflection and critique of our own society, but the ways in which the positions of the characters and ourselves changes how we perceive that reflection. Ultimately every society is controlled through culture, and systems are in place to in turn control how culture functions, creating an endless loop of changes and reinforcements. To, in any concrete way, remove culture from a society is a fundamentally impossible task, and yet the illusion of removal is very much real, created not through an active effort of removal, but through the elimination both of comparable groups and the perception that any culturally significant differences may exist within the original group.

I could probably go on, but I’m getting away from the main topic, so I’ll stop here for now. The topic of culture in No.6 is really fascinating and something I definitely want to write more on in the future, but it will have to wait until I finish a couple of my other drafts first! So like always thanks for reading  if you made it all the way to the end, and I will hopefully have at least a short thing done in the next couple of weeks or so!

[akatsuki-shin]

Review: 天官赐福 Tiān Guān Cì Fú (Heaven Official's Blessing)

Notes:

(Very) long post ahead

Contains spoiler

This is my personal review and does not represent the entire audience, you are free to agree or not agree with what I’ve written here

Feel free to reply/send me a message if there are things you want to discuss

Summary:

The most beloved Crown Prince, pride of the Kingdom of Xianle with abundance of talents and achievements, Xie Lian, ascended to Heaven and became a martial god at the young age of 17 on the path to fulfill his dream "to save the common people".

Three years after his ascension, he saw his kingdom beginning to decline and in order to save his beloved country, Xie Lian defied the rules of Heaven and descended back to the mortal realm. Nevertheless, instead of saving them, his interference ended up accelerating the fall of Xianle, annihilating the once prosperous nation under the war of rebellion and a mysterious, horrifying plague.

The people who once praised and worshipped him day and night now condemned him, his devotees left him, they burnt his temples and divine statues, and Xie Lian himself was ultimately banished from the Heaven.

He ascended for the second time a short while later, but was banished once more very soon after. Since then, he lived among the mortals - surviving by collecting junks as he was now branded as the "God of Misfortune", the "Scrap Collecting Immortal".

800 years later, Xie Lian ascended again for the third time. Though having neither temples nor devotees, he accepted his responsibility as a martial god and carried on with his duties until one day, there came a certain, incidental encounter with a mysterious youth clad in red.

STORY: 7/10

TGCF overall is an (almost) complete, satisfying read with well-written twists and development.

Unlike the two previous MXTX's novels, the main pairing here (HuaLian) did not have to go through complicated misunderstandings and is a beautiful representation of love and devotion. Of course, this means there is a lack of conflict between them, but considering all the trials and tribulations the characters have gone through, this lack of conflict feels like a relieving fresh spring amidst the painful and exhausting journey throughout the entire five books.

The best and my most favorite plot twist is the Earth Master Ming Yi having been dead for a while, and the "Ming Yi" we know turns out to be the Black Water Submerging Boats, He Xuan. I'm the kind of person who always suspects characters, but even my furthest suspicion was "only" him being the Reverend of Empty Words, not He Xuan.

Truthfully, prior to reading this novel, I've seen Shi Qingxuan's "MING-XIONG, I'M SORRY x9999" post before without context, and I thought Ming Yi was going to die a tragic death because of Shi Qingxuan. Turns out it's kind of the opposite, huh? Nice one, really.

I also like how each character's "end" feels satisfying. Especially for the villains, they didn't necessarily have to die some tragic, vengeful death, but was provided with an ending that perfectly fits their background story and deeds. For example, in most stories, a character like Xuan Ji would be most likely be given some well-deserved punishment as her death, given everything she's done. But no, in the end she was given a reality check and was finally able to let go of her hundreds of years grudge. And then Qi Rong - I will talk more about him later on in the "Character" section.

One part I really love is the Extra Chapter about the Cave of Ten Thousand Gods. The chapter itself overall is mostly nonsensical and chaotic, but it was just so touching when HuaLian created a "Little Hua Cheng" statue to accompany Xie Lian's "Crown Prince who Pleased the Gods" statue, especially when this Little Hua Cheng statue gave Crown Prince Xie Lian statue a flower, and then Crown Prince Xie Lian received it, lifted him up and carried him in his arms. This one was maybe a bit biased because as much as I love the current HuaLian, I have a special soft spot for the young Xie Lian carrying, cradling the little Hua Cheng back then in the past. ;v;

Though, with all due respect, I must say that TGCF is actually below my expectation.

The biggest issue I have with TGCF is... What is Xie Lian's motivation? What drives him to move forward in the story? What is even the whole story's purpose?

I'm not quite sure how to word this properly, but let me give some examples.

When you read Harry Potter, you know immediately that Voldemort is the bad guy and he must be defeated.

When you read the Lord of the Rings, you know immediately that the One Ring must be destroyed to prevent Sauron from regaining his power.

Or, in MXTX previous works...

In SVSSS, it was clear since the beginning that Shen Yuan's mission is to fix the "Proud Immortal Demon Way" if he wants to survive.

In MDZS, it was clear that Wei Wuxian, together with Lan Wangji's, needs to unravel the mystery behind that fierce left arm. All of their past stories and WangXian getting together in the end are just something they discovered along the way, not the initial "motivation" that drives the character to move forward.

What about TGCF? The Xie Lian who ascended for the third time actually looks like he just wants to go along with the flow, carrying out his duties day by day with responsibility. When Bai Wuxiang later, later, later on appeared to haunt him again, it didn't seem like Xie Lian has any ambition to hunt him down or exact a revenge, just that he wanted to forget about Bai Wuxiang and never recall anything about him ever again. The main character looks like he's not being driven by anything, just...carrying on where the plot takes him? It's just missions after missions and whatever huge things happening in between is just something they accidentally passed by along the way.

At this point, the only purpose of the story I can think of is bringing Hua Cheng and Xie Lian together. The romance is great, I have no complain. But if it's just that, no need to jammed-pack 250+ chapters just to make two people getting together?

Speaking of which, I also think that the way new characters keep being introduced all the way to almost the final showdown of the story feels info dump-ish, because the background story needs to be dropped there along with the characters, but then most of these characters fade away immediately after.

For example, the previous Civil God before Ling Wen, who looks like he’s going to pose some real trouble, but then was easily defeated and was never mentioned again afterwards. And this is especially true for He Xuan; after such a huge arc where he committed such extreme things, after that he was barely mentioned again, even having his “strong impression” leveled down by the joke about him being the poorest Calamity and owing lots of debts to Hua Cheng.

Basically what makes TGCF a long story is because there are too many stories about the side characters in addition to the main characters that are dumped out of the blue instead of slowly being revealed along the way.

Though, I love how the story gradually unravels the "Four Famous Tales" because initially, I thought it wasn't something crucial, and I wished they could've done this for other characters, too.

There is a little bit of plot holes here and there, as in who actually cut open Jian Lan/Lan Chang's baby and made it a ghost, and for what? Even if it turned out that she just met a bad guy or nobody important, at least provide an explanation in one paragraph? Especially because important side characters like Feng Xin and Mu Qing are involved here, so I'm pretty sure us readers need some explanation.

And more importantly, how can Jun Wu become the Emperor martial god? There's no mention about him ascending, only that he annihilated a dynasty of gods before sitting on the throne of the Great Martial Hall. But how can he, like, emitted god-like aura and not some evil aura? Is it because he used to be a god? But he's a ghost? Explanation where???

The gags and comedies are pretty fun, but honestly, the more I read, the more they ruin the atmosphere and suspense, added with the uncalled PDA between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian even during the most important moments. Honestly, I was bored the fuck out of my life from the moment they start fighting Jun Wu with those divine gundams, and only start gaining interest again much later on when Hua Cheng dissipated into butterflies.

Not saying the story's bad. Just... It's not up to my expectation... Characters being inserted here and there with a bunch of background story, gags and a show of PDA being flaunted during crucial moments. And when Mei Nianqing started telling the truth about the Kingdom of Wuyong, that's just plain info dump right there, seriously...

CHARACTERS: 7/10

Interesting characters, but only a few bore a lasting impression on me. Other than the main characters, which are Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, the only side characters (minus Bai Wuxiang as the main villain) who left quite some impression on me were probably just Feng Xin and Mu Qing.

Pei Ming is okay, at least he is still memorable until the end, and his character improved, too.

He Xuan, after having been introduced with such extreme, after his arc is over, was easily forgotten just like that.

Mei Nianqing, is borderline Deus Ex-Machina with a huge chunk of info dump that could solve everything, then he stopped being useful for the rest of the story.

Shi Qingxuan... Honestly, he's almost annoying, too noisy. I don’t hate him (and I kind of like him initially), but the way his character was being handled and presented post-Black Water arc feels disappointingly lazy and he was just there to make the party more merry.

Xie Lian himself, as the protagonist, how do I say this... This is maybe due to the translator's writing style (not MXTX’s fault), but whenever he screams in all capslock, it feels too extreme and borderline OOC? Of course, the original novel written in hanzi couldn't have included capslock.

What's great about him, though, is that despite all he'd gone through, he can still retain a pure heart and could not be swayed to be evil, just as he himself said "Body in the abyss, heart in paradise".

Now Hua Cheng, he is overall a super interesting character and I personally love this type of male characters. But he seriously is way too OP, almost like the original Luo Binghe (Bing-ge) a.k.a. too ideal, too perfect, no flaws, always capable of easily finding a way out in every single peril. I only forgive him for being like this because he dissipated into butterflies at the end of the battle with Jun Wu, making me think "oh, finally he's actually not invincible".

Still, his devotion to Xie Lian is very well written, very well presented, and his "I am forever your most devoted believer" is just downright the most powerful line in the whole story.

Now I promised to talk about Qi Rong, yeah? I haven't the slightest idea why it is even necessary to have Qi Rong as the Night-touring Green Lantern. I mean, yes he is there to make up the number of the Four Great Calamities, but that was for the characters who live in that world. As the novel's reader, I don't see any particularly important roles there for Qi Rong other than being an annoying meme fodder despite his actually pretty-cool first foreshadowing and appearance? Even his issue with Lang Qianqiu does not seem to give that much impact on the overall story, it could've just passed simply being explained in several pages.

Though I'd say he's got the best character development compared to others. Instead of dying as some hateful villain, the way he ended up deciding to protect Guzi at the cost of his own life can already be expected from miles away, but still bittersweet and touching nonetheless - how this crazed, mental person could still love when being presented with such pure, innocent feelings to the point that he acknowledged Guzi as a his own son.

By the way, E Ming and Ruoye are cute, I take no criticism.

TECHNICAL ASPECTS: 8/10

I can't really describe this with words, but MXTX's overall writing technique has greatly improved since MDZS.

It feels more "solid" to read instead of scattered here and there.

The info distribution has improved (fewer info dump compared to before), the story's no longer switching between past and present all of a sudden.

Description of characters and environment are sufficient, the plot is progressing steadily.

Several issues I have with this aspect though, the Prologue being ten pages is just way too long, I don't think I need that much information being stuffed right to my face right from the beginning.

There are excessive use of "Turns out..." every single time an explanation is going to come.

"Xie Lian didn't know whether he should cry or laugh" is honestly has been used probably more than 50 times just in the last two books. Although I'm reading a translation, I'm pretty sure the original Chinese version is being repetitive with this phrase, as well, because the translators couldn't just whip up any other phrase from thin air and put it in someone else's novel.

Almost half of scene transition is always caused by some sudden, external disturbance like "All of a sudden they heard someone's coming", "All of a sudden X visits their room", etc.

OVERALL SCORE: 7.3/10

Worth to read, satisfying overall. The main pairing's love story is just so well written and sweet. As long as you can withstand the violence and gore, though. 😂

TGCF highlights perhaps one of the ugliest natures of mankind: Being nice to someone as long as they're beneficial, and immediately throwing them away once the benefit was no more.

Once that person does not seem to be beneficial anymore, everyone would leave them instantly, even turning on them and start spitting on them without even trying to understand the reason why said person "stopped being beneficial".

Both as a Crown Prince and a martial god, Xie Lian and the Crown Prince of Wuyong were praised, revered, worshipped by the citizens of Xianle and Wuyong respectively. Because they were always helping, always fulfilling the people's wishes. But how easily it was for those very same people to turn on Xie Lian and the Crown Prince of Wuyong when they encountered misfortunes, completely turning a blind eye to the laborious effort both characters have been putting to save them from annihilation, even if it was visible in broad daylight.

It is also worth to note another trait of mankind that this story underlines: To always find a scapegoat or blame others for one's own misfortune and failure - be it another human being, another group of people, the government, even the gods - after having taking their generosity for granted.

Which is why I think the true villain of the story is not Bai Wuxiang, but those citizens of the ancient Wuyong who were now nothing more than resentful spirits eternally burning within the lava of Tonglu Mountain - a well deserved punishment after what they did to their Crown Prince.

[arasakas-ronin]

Takemura: Sit. (when V sits down) Takemura: You do not look so bad. Then, in the car, I doubted you would survive.

V: [optional: Is this about the biochip?] This about the biochip? That why I'm here? Takemura: Hm, I hear it is damaged beyond repair. Any attempt to extract it would be disastrous, fatal for you. V: Huh. Vik likes to talk, I gues... Takemura: Not many could do what he did. You should be thankful.

V: [optional: Why'd you help me?] Why'd you help me anyway? Takemura: I needed you to live. That hasn't changed.

V: [What do you want?] What's it you actually want from me? Takemura: To begin, you must tell me where to find Evelyn Parker. V: Evelyn... what's she to you? Takemura: She and Yorinobu Arasaka had intimate relations... she knows how to get to him. V: Been thinkin' I oughta have a word with her myself. She promised to help me get rid of the chip. Takemura: I would not count on that. She is likely gone, very far away.

(either) V: [Just answered your own question.] Just answered your own question 'bout where Evelyn is - long gone. Takemura: Why do you believe she could help you remove the chip? Does a corporation help her?

(or) V: [Been lookin' for her?] Why you figure she skipped town? Takemura: I tried to locate her but had no success. I suspect she covered her tracks. You said Parker could help you remove the Relic... does she work for a corporation?

(Either) V: [No idea.] Got no clue. V: [Think so, yeah] Suspect so, yeah. V: Evelyn was knowledgeable about the Relic, had a large chunk of classified info. An enimgma, to be sure, but she showed that slyness you get in corpo agents... you know the kind. Takemura: I, too, possess this "slyness" you speak of? V: You got tossed out, lumped with the outcasts, easily. Or have you forgotten?

(or) V: [Don't think so, no.] Don't think so, no. Takemura: Can you expand? V: Don't matter how much perfume a corpo sprays on mornings, by lunch that's replaced by the stench of skullduggery. Only thing I caught from Evelyn was determination. Takemura: And I, too, stink of "skullduggery"? V: You're startin' to stink, period. Takemura: Hmmm...

(or) V: [Askin' too many questions] You ask a looot of questions. Takemura: You have many interesting things to say. V: Might be your turn now to say something interesting.

Takemura: I intend to punish Yorinobu Arasaka severely for the crime he has committed. (either) V: [Stand - OK, got a life to save - my own, so...]  Sorry I couldn't be of any help. Don't have any time to lose, so... Takemura: (stands up, puts his right hand on their shoulder) V, wait. I need you.

(or) V: [Stand - Better be goin'] Is that all? Really should be goin'. Takemura: (stands up, puts his right hand on their shoulder) Wait.

Takemura: Yorinobu Arasaka must answer for this crime of patricide. V: Pff. Lookin' for justice? In Night City? Takemura: I seek revenge. Much more feasible here. I have allies prepared to bring Yorinobu to his knees. The only thing I need is proof. V: And you think they'll trust the word of a merc? Takemura: I have nothing better now. Also, I know no one here, and I am a fugitive, I am hunted.

V: [Optional] What if I say no? Takemura: Then I will tell you what rewards await if you help me.

V: [Want me to accuse Yorinobu in front of Arasaka execs?] So what, we stroll into Arasaka HQ and announce that Yorinobu's a kinkiller? That he murdered Saburo? Takemura: We will get a hearing before reasonable people, in a neutral location. Certain... procedures will be used to establish the truth. V: A lie-detector? Forget it. Takemura: In that case, another option. You are dying. You do not know how to save yourself. A chip, the Relic, is the culprit. Technology made by Arasaka, technology they alone know. This corporation can save you as easily as it can make you disapper. It is merely about getting the right people on your side. Politics.

V: [Optional - What kind of people we talkin' about?] Exactly what kind of people are we talkin' about? Takemura: People who hold Arasaka dear, are its heart. People interested in the corporation's table growth.

V: [Anders Hellman - mean those kinds of people?] Ya mean people like Anders Hellman? Takemura: You know this name how? V: Prepared for the heist, thoroughly. Relic is Hellman's design, his creation. Takemura: Untrue - he is a pawn. I was thinking of one much more powerful. Besides, Anders Hellman escaped Arasaka, betrayed it.

(Something about Arasaka on the TV catches Takemura's attention) Tom: Fuckin' 'Saka scum's everywhere. (Turns it off) Takemura: Hey! I was listening to that! Tom: Shut up. Nobody 'cept you wants to watch that shit about that corpo cunt. Takemura: What did you say? (he gets up and walks a few steps towards Tom)

(timed prompt) V: [[Calm Takemura] Chill] Let it go, Takemura. Tom: Hom. Least one of you's got some fuckin' sense. (Takemura sits back down)

(V stays silent) Tom: You heard me! Takemura: Listen... Tom: No, tough guy, you listen. It's people like you two that've brought this country to its knees. Taken our land, our jobs, our fucking dignity. But I own this place and here I decide. So finish your tea and get the fuck out. (Takemura sits back down)

V: [Optional - Streetkid - Tom's a good guy.] Tom's all right. Not afraid to speak his mind, that's all. Takemura: He reminds me of my father. He also worked in a kitchen all his life.

V: [Optional - Shouldn't draw attention to ourselves.] Last thing we wanna do is draw attention. Takemura: I'm sorry... A stupid reflex.

V: [Need time to think it over.] Thanks for the offer. Need to think about it, get back to you. Takemura: I need... time... to plan, organize. You stand to gain much if you help me. All I ask is that you do not leave the city. V: Leave? Why would I leave? Need help, best chance I'll find the right person here. Takemura: Someone other than Arasaka specialists? There is no one, no alternative. V: Actually, we just talked about some.

(the dialogue options are not exclusive)

V: [Try my luck with Evelyn Parker.] With a bit of luck, I'll track down Evelyn. Takemura: If she could not help you before, she will not manage to now. V: Honor among thieves - ever heard of it? Takemura: Yes, I thought it ironic, thieves have none. There is just honor, I believe. V: Yorinobu Arasaka'd agree, I'm sure. Takemura: The Parker woman will not help you. Were I you, I would think about a plan B.

V: [Relic's engineer knows more'n anybody else] Anders Hellman - he invented the Relic. If I wanna get rid of it, he's my man. And if that means picking another fight with Arasaka, so be it. Takemura: Hellman defected from the company. I myself spent many days looking for him. He - what's the expression - dropped off the face of the earth.

V: [Optional - You know more than I thought] Somebody's been busy the last few days. Takemura: I will not sit and do nothing when there is information to be found, things to prepare.

V: [Why were you looking for Hellman?] Why're you looking for Hellman? Takemura: He was the one to alert Saburo-san to Yorinobu's schemes. He knew both of them well and could be an important witness. V: Corpo rats squeal when hanging by their tails. Takemura: For several days, I collected information. All leads point to one place - the club called Afterlife. I was quickly... dismissed by the "Queen of Fixers" there. Rogue.

(either) V: [She spot the corpo in you?] She take you for a suit? Takemura: No, she saw me as Saburo-sama's killer.

(or) V: [No experience talkin' to people like that?] Mean to say you worked for Saburo yet got no idea how to talk to the high and mighty? Takemura: She wished to have nothing to day with the man accused of murdering Saburo Arasaka.

V: Rogue's well informed, gets wind of most things that happen in Night City. Might be worth asking her about Hellman. Takemura: I wish you luck. The woman is choosy, expensive and rude. (He gets up) Takemura: When my people in Arasaka are ready to listen, I will call you. V: Till then, I guess. Takemura: If by some miracle you find Hellman, please notify me. He and I have unfinished business.