#just wondering if i would have survived if i grew up in america

[daisydoctor13]

A question for my American friends. If you play a musical instrument in high school, are you expected to do the marching stuff in the fancy uniforms on sports pitches?

Or can you just do the sit down play music orchestras/bands?

[devine-fem]

Damian lovers (and by extension of this ask,damijon lovers) don't explore the fact that Damian was extremely cultured for the majority of his life before coming to live with Bruce. Like that 10 yr old is experiencing culture shock!! Ofc he's gonna act out and disobey authority figures he doesn't even know

Yes he had rules and obligations as an Al ghul,but he traveled and saw so much of the world that most,if none of the robins never got a chance to see at their ages... Then he's expected to be by his Father's side in order to learn and grow.. NOT TO SAY HE HASN'T!!! but to be stuck in such a gloomy place like Gotham when he grew up in such a beautiful island surrounded by the very flora and flauna that the Al Ghuls strive to protect...

The damijon part is where Damian shows Jon how other parts other than the Western world work,showing him all the wonderful cultures and history he's seen throughout his life before him,before his father. How integral this is to his identity as an Al Ghul and now he wants his closest person to be able to experience it with him... Jon showed him how to adapt to western culture when they were kids and now Damian shows him what the world has always looked like to him,how hard it was to let go of his cultured past when coming to America

I don’t talk about the culture shock because I admit to not knowing a whole lot of how culture shock works to be honest. Like I know if I took me as I am now and dropped me into China I’d be extremely confused and lost as to how things functioned around me but to survive I’d have to pick up on it and Damian’s a smart kid I think it wouldn’t be too bad for him…?

I think Damian functions entirely differently from a normal person no matter where he is, lol, like what Damian al ghul has experienced and isn’t common for any child… ever… so is it culture shock as much as it is… constantly perpetual states of shock?

His whole character is him relearning everything. Or maybe, I am misinterpreting it? Is culture shock a bad thing? or is it just an interesting concept?

Is it a trauma?

I’ll take it as an interesting concept for now and just discuss the damijon part of it because that’s what I’m good at.

Do you realize that Jon has grown up on a farm his whole childhood? LOL. Do you realize that Jon Kent would be fascinated by an ice dispenser??

Could you imagine the awe and ooing he’d do going to Nanda Parbat? The Himalay? He’d be so out of it LMAO. Oh, that would make for such a cute interaction of Damian showing him around his culture and him knowing nothing, it’d also be so damn romantic.

Even then the aesthetic would be gorgeous, that’s why I love Damian Al ghul, imagine Damian Al Ghul taking his superman to his beautiful private chambers to indulge in romantics for a while? just so cute.

[laineystein]

I know that the media would have you believing that war is constant and ruthless but sometimes it’s a lot of sitting around and waiting for orders. And a lot of talking. Really introspective talking. And the things that people say when there’s a very real chance that they might die, are probably the most poignant and well said. So here’s a conversation my unit had in a million different ways with a million different words:

We love beings Jews. We love being Israeli. We can’t imagine being anything else or belonging to any other group. But this statistic that we are 0.2% of the worlds population has been so much more than a statistic lately. We all feel it. We feel how so much of the world has turned their backs on us — how the same people that posted those stupid blue squares on instagram are now using language that calls for our genocide and the destruction of our homeland. We know that for so many people we are pawns in their political game. We know that so many people think we are sub-human and therefore deserving of less respect than any other person. We don’t need anyone to tell us what they think of us because so many people are showing us by what they’re doing or not doing. And that’s okay. We’re used to it. We’ve always been alone. We’ve always fought (and won) our own battles. We’ll win this one without any of you. It’s fine. But it makes me think about how the same people that alienate us are the ones that critique how we live in insular communities (like the neighborhood I grew up in Crown Heights) and how our religion is closed and how we don’t need a place (read: Israel) where we all live together (assumedly because no other group has such a place — which is just a total lie). And there’s this thought amongst many Jews that communities like the one I grew up in in Brooklyn exist as a result of the persecution we faced. Just like there’s this thought that Israel exists because of the Holocaust. The survivors of the worst thing that can happen to a group decided to live together and close out the outside world. Now I’d argue that we certainly haven’t closed anyone out in Israel - I’m currently serving with Israelis that are Arab and Druze. But is our country very Jew-centric? Absolutely. Just like Crown Heights is very Jew-centric. Goyim can/do live and visit Crown Heights but it is a place that caters to what is otherwise considered a counter-culture in America. Just like Israel caters to Jews in an area of the world where all of us were expelled. We are fine living in these places. We have created these communities and curated them to our Jewish way of life. But people wonder why we close ourselves off and why we need special spaces - and that same ignorance is the answer. Sure, our diets are different and we have laws about how we go to school and work and pray that make it very difficult to live in a non-Jewish world but there’s a very real truth that so many people are scared to say aloud so I will: We don’t trust goyim. Goyim have never stood up for us or protected us. Only we can keep ourselves safe. Only we truly care about our wellbeing. We do not feel safe around goyim. And I think we have every right to be distrustful. We have every right to think that our survival and security rests solely in our fellow Jew. So while this has all proven that the Jewish people are amazing and loving and stronger than even we knew, it’s also only cemented this idea that we absolutely need our own world. And it’s clear that we’ve essentially lived in our own world all this time anyway - our world view is not your world view. Our experiences are so incredibly different than the goy experience. If you’re not Jewish and especially if you’re not an Israeli Jew, you can’t possibly understand any of this. And that’s fine! But don’t get angry when, in the absence of your support, we’ve figured it out. And don’t be upset when your Jewish friends - Israeli or not - have pushed you away because you didn’t show up in the way they’d hoped. You’ve merely proven us right. We do not need you. Our communities are enough. Our country is enough. Together, we will outlive you.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 12 – OTHER MARVEL SHIPS

STEVE/SAM

Not the Destination by KiaraSayre

Pairing: Steve/Sam Rating: NR Words: 8,007 Tags: Road Trips, Demi Steve, Armchair Therapy

Summary: Before they leave New York, Tony Stark (Tony Stark, Jesus, Sam's not over it, never ever over it) hands him an AmEx Black and says, "Don't let Cap spend it all on egg creams and quarters for the jukebox." "That is exactly what I'm gonna do," Sam says. "Egg creams and jukeboxes, nonstop. That's how we roll."

Reasons why I love it: All the fluffy feels! I love Sam basically coaching Steve into a bit of happiness, and I'm so happy that Steve is the one to finally take that last (first?) step. This whole fic is so sweet, and I adore all the stops they make along the way, the progression feels so natural. So yeah, it's fantastic, and I highly recommend it!

Closer to flying by Odsbodkins

Pairing: Steve/Sam Rating: M Words: 2,405 Tags: First Time, Canon Adjacent, Past Steve/Bucky

Summary: Sam Wilson had thought he had excellent gaydar. The sort of neighborhood he grew up in, then the military, a near-flawless gaydar was a survival essential. He was going to have to revise it to “has excellent gaydar in person”. Because he had never had the slightest inkling that Captain America might be gay.

Reasons why I love it: Steve being an experienced gay icon, we stan. I love the Steve Rogers is Not A Virgin trope, and this fic does it incredibly well. I also really enjoyed the hopeful note that this fic ends on. It's fantastic, and I hope you go and check it out for yourself!

Easy Does It by astolat

Pairing: Steve/Sam Rating: M Words: 6,489 Tags: Post-CA:TWS, Sex Pollen, Marriage

Summary: “It just seems like—it should mean something,” Steve said plaintively. “Well, I guess it does,” Sam said, after a thoughtful moment. “Means you’re not a virgin anymore.”

Reasons why I love it: Oh my god, that ending scene is the fucking best. I love how this fic strikes the perfect balance between being fluffy, funny and angsty, and does all of them equally well. Steve hanging out with Sarah and the kids is adorable, and I love Sam and Steve's banter throughout. This fic is wonderful, and I hope you check it out for yourself!

between our bodies there's a battlefield by thingswithwings

Pairing: Steve/Sam Rating: E Words: 4,805 Tags: Porn with Feelings, Anal Sex, PWP

Summary: Sam hadn't ever had cause to think about it, not really, but if someone had told him that he would end up in a pity fuck situation with Steve Rogers, gorgeous kind superpowered American war hero Steve Rogers, he would've assumed he was the one being pitied.

Reasons why I love it: Sam reading Steve like a book and giving him exactly what he needs is really fucking hot. And oh my god, Steve asking to be held down, and that anecdote about Tom? Scorching. Steve's desperation just makes it all even hotter, goddamn. I love this fic so much, and I bet you will too!

you can see it with the lights out by defcontwo

Pairing: Steve/Sam Rating: M Words: 4,702 Tags: Falling In Love, Past Relationship(s), Insecurity

Summary: “Will you believe me if I tell you that this is a normal thing that happens between two guys that are friends?” Sam says, and yeah, he’s pretty sure that that came out as weak as it sounded in his head. Steve leans up on one elbow, looking down at Sam, that same crinkle around the edges of his eyes noticeable even in the gloom of the motel room light. “I know it’s been seventy years since I last had sex with a man but I’m still pretty sure that’s bullshit, Wilson.” Sam Wilson falls in love. Like everything else, it's a process.

Reasons why I love it: Gaaah, this fic gives me ALL the feels! Sam's conflict is so relatable, and I love the hopeful ending. Steve is such a sweetheart too. This fic is incredible, and it deserves all the love in the world, so I hope you check it out!

[thinlyq]

When the Fat Girl Gets Skinny

the year of skinny pop and sugar free jello cups

we guzzled vitamin water and vodka

toasting to high school and survival complimenting each others collarbones

trying diets we found on the internet:

menthol cigarettes eating in front of a mirror

donating blood.

replacing meals with other practical hobbies like making flower crowns

or fainting

wondering why I haven't had my period in months why breakfast tastes like giving up

or how many more productive ways I could have spent my time today

besides googling the calories in the glue of a US envelope

watching America's Next Top Model like the gospel

hunching naked over a bathroom scale shrine crying into an empty bowl of cocoa puffs

because I only feel pretty when I'm hungry

If you are not recovering, you are dying.

By the time I was sixteen, I had already experienced being clinically overweight, underweight,

and obese.

As a child, Fat was the first word people used to describe me,

which didn’t offend me until I found out it was supposed to.

When I lost weight, my dad was so proud he started carrying my before-and-after photo

in his wallet.

so relieved he could stop worrying about me getting diabetes.

he saw a program on the news about the epidemic with obesity

says he is just so glad to finally see me taking care of myself.

If you develop an eating disorder when you are already thin to begin with,

you go to the hospital.

If you develop an eating disorder when you are not thin to begin with,

you are a success story.

So when I evaporated, of course everyone congratulated me on getting healthy.

Girls at school who never spoke to me before stopped me in the hallway to ask how I did it.

I say, I am sick.

They say No, you’re an inspiration.

How could I not fall in love with my illness?

With becoming the kind of silhouette people are supposed to fall in love with?

Why would I ever want to stop being hungry

when anorexia was the most interesting thing about me?

So how lucky it is, now, to be boring The way not going to the hospital is boring.

The way looking at an apple and seeing only an apple,

not sixty or half an hour of sit-ups is boring.

My story may not be as exciting as it used to,

but at least there is nothing left to count.

The calculator in my head finally stopped.

I used to love the feeling of drinking water on an empty stomach

waiting for the coolness to slip all the way down and land in the well,

not obsessed with being empty but afraid of being full.

I used to take pride in being able to feel cold in a warm room.

Now, I am proud I have stopped seeking revenge on this body.

This was the year of eating when I was hungry without punishing myself

and I know it sounds ridiculous, but that shit is hard.

When I was little, someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up,

and I said "small."

Blythe Baird

[supersoftly]

Do Canadians have a fireworks holiday? Here in Hawaii New years is the big one and I have fond memories of making sparkler bombs as a child. That being we'd unwrap sparklers to extract the gunpowder placing it in a vessel of tin foil. Then we'd wrap it with an improvised fuse place it in the middle of the street use a sparkler to light the fuse and run like hell away from the large explosion.

Adendum to previous sparkler bomb ask somehow everyone involved has survived to adulthood with all limbs and digits intact

Well I'm glad you clarified that, admittedly when I hear stories from my mom who grew up in rural post-war Japan, you hear some pretty crazy stuff about fireworks! :p

In Canada, we do have fireworks holidays, but pretty much the same as most North American stuff, like New Years and our national day, Canada Day (pretty much same as Independence Day but way less patriotic :p) I grew up right by the border, Niagara River (see war of 1812 if you want to see the landscape and how close we are to America physically), it's a bikeable range to the States if there wasn't a body of water in the way, but often one of the safest and more popular area for fireworks shows. Where I live, we're pretty anal about our fire-related regulations cuz of the forest fires and such, so most of the time, firework stuff is run by somebody official™️ if you're doing anything big and near densely populated areas.

We would get in our families cars packed with snacks, blankets and foldable furniture, park on the grass in the dark with all the other families right by the edge of the border overlooking the river (it's a bit of a sheer drop, but there's fences 👍), and watch fireworks with our American neighbours cheering on the other side of the river where you could hear the booming echoes bounce between the two countries walling in the sound for miles around. Then Independence Day would happen a few days later and we'd get to see another firework show lol ^^

It's funny thinking about it again, how that pivotal location was a strategic point for how our country was shaped today and yet now, we happily share with our neighbours on the otherside, the delight and wonder of both of our countries gaining sovereignty despite the past painting us as enemies. Not to get deep or whatever, it's just a pleasant memory I have of growing up. Anyways, thanks for sharing, I love hearing about stuff like this, makes me feel like we all get to know each other a little better :D

[stillwintering]

All's Fair in Love and Politics (a modern Nessian AU - where Rhys is running for president)

Summary: In the ruthless arena of politics, victory demands risking everything, even one's own heart. Rhysand has his eyes on the presidency. Feyre convinces her estranged sister, Nesta, to join the political campaign. Nesta and Cassian find themselves forging an unexpected bond as the campaign intensifies. But can their budding romance survive the treacherous waters of modern political warfare?

Read on AO3 / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

Chapter 5

"Tell me again," Emerie said. "Why are you going to Iowa?"

Nesta stuffed another sweater into her suitcase, wondering if she would have the need for a formal gown on her trip. Amren had been scant on details, referring her to Cassian for information on the schedule in Iowa.

"Because Iowa votes first in the primaries."

Emerie just watched Nesta fold and refold her clothes from her reclined seat on Nesta's bed, not offering any help beyond vetoing several outfits. Nesta hadn't had time to fully furnish her DC apartment, so there was no place else to sit.

"Pack your running shoes," Emerie pointed to the corner of Nesta's small bedroom, where she kept her athletic gear.

"This trip is pretty tight. I won't have much free time to train," Nesta picked up her trainers and exercise clothes. "Can't I join you and Gwyn at the next race?"

Emerie shook her head emphatically. "We both promised Gwyn we would run the National Women's Half Marathon," she said. "Come on Nesta, you know this is really important to her."

Nesta begrudgingly packed her running gear. The advocacy group Gwyn oversaw sponsored a group of women who have survived domestic violence to run in the half marathon each year. It was a critical milestone in these women's journeys, and, despite her reluctance to train, Nesta knew it was a worthwhile cause to help raise money for the shelter.

"Okay, okay," she relented. "I'll try my best to squeeze in a run or two. Happy?"

Emerie squinted at Nesta. "Just promise me you'll call either me or Gwyn if you need some extra motivation."

Nesta rolled her eyes and went back to digging through her closet. Emerie picked up a stack of papers from Nesta's pillow, leafing through its contents. They were Cassian's emails about her itinerary in Iowa.

"And who's Cassian?" Emerie asked as she scanned the documents.

"He works for the campaign, organizing the field offices," Nesta replied. She grabbed a dark purple dress -- it had a low cowl neckline and long slits along its sides -- from her closet.

"So you're going to Iowa with Cassian?"

"He's already there."

Emerie looked up from the papers. "If you're bringing that..." Emerie eyed the dress Nesta was holding and smiled knowingly. "You guys are totally going to fuck," she concluded gleefully.

"Emerie!"

"I'm just telling it like it is." Emerie didn't even bother to look bashful.

"We're co-workers," Nesta said sternly, rolling up the dress and tucking into her suitcase. "It would be inappropriate."

Emerie's smile only grew wider. "That's what makes it hot."

---

Nesta caught the last flight to Des Moines because earlier in the day, she had to review the announcement video's final cut before the Starborn campaign's official launch. This video was crucial as it would serve as Rhysand's first impression to primary voters. She had dedicated countless hours to working with the production team, meticulously reviewing each segment. The finished version was only a minute long, but Nesta thought that it had effectively communicated the essence of the campaign's message: "Starborn for America, for the dreamers among us."

Rhys had wanted to lead with a policy-heavy first video. But Amren and Nesta had both convinced him that the first impression he needed to make was value-based. It needed to be a message that spoke to the hopes and aspirations of the electorate; it needed to inspire people and paint a vision of a desirable future.

Nesta reviewed the full ad run -- TV spots, ad buys, social media strategy -- on the plane ride. She thought if she wasn't so jaded by politicians and their vices, she might actually be excited about the promise of Rhysand Starborn.

It was almost midnight when Nesta's taxi finally pulled up to her Iowa hotel. She was exhausted and was looking forward to sinking into a warm bed -- any bed.

"Nesta!" A voice called to her as she was settling up the taxi fare with the driver. "Do you need a hand?"

By the time she came around the back of the car, Cassian was already lifting her luggage from the trunk. It took her a moment to recognize him outside of the rigid halls of Capitol Hill. She had almost exclusively seen Cassian in some type of suit and his hair tied up neatly. Seeing him in joggers and a white t-shirt was jarring. He was clearly coming in from an evening run, his golden skin glistening and hair wild. Even beneath the unflattering halogen lights of the hotel entrance, he was still striking.

"Cassian?" She blinked. It was as if she was looking at him for the first time.

He flashed her a familiar smile. "Long flight?" he asked her.

Nesta nodded. She took in the muscled chest beneath his sweat-soaked shirt and powerful biceps moving her luggage toward the hotel doors. He had tattoos across his pectorals, and they gathered in intricate patterns below his collarbones. She could just barely make out the dark outlines through the fabric. As he turned towards the lobby entrance, she was pleasantly surprised to see the shadow of tattoos continue across his back -- the planes of his muscles rippling as he hoisted her luggage up some stairs.

Nesta had always known that Cassian was fit -- how the suits he wore around the office seemed to constrain the muscles underneath -- but she wasn't entirely prepared to see his toned body on display like this.

"Isn't it a little late for a run?" she asked, her throat dry.

He smirked, arrogant, as if he had realized his effect on her. Nesta half expected him to quip about how many miles he had just done. But instead, he said, "I couldn't sleep."

Nesta followed him into the lobby.

He stopped in front of the reception desk and turned towards her. "It's good to have you here," he murmured.

Nesta could only stare at him. Cassian's cheeks were flushed, and hazel eyes were clear from exercise. He looked like he walked off the cover of a men's health magazine. It was distracting.

The receptionist cleared her throat behind them.

"I need to check in," she said, her eyes not leaving Cassian's handsome face.

Cassian did not yield under her gaze. He leaned in, almost imperceptibly, towards her. Nesta wanted to reach out and push the hair from his eyes. She wondered how his hair would feel between her fingers.

"I'll leave you to it then," he finally said. He tucked her luggage beside her under the reception desk and sauntered towards the elevator bay. "See you in the morning," he called over his shoulder.

---

Cassian knew he was in trouble the moment Nesta tilted her head toward him at the hotel reception desk. It had been building up for a few weeks now. Maybe even from the day she walked into Rhysand's office and introduced herself. Not that she needed an introduction. Cassian had been reading articles by Nesta Archeron for years now. But he never knew the author was so beautiful, with piercing blue-grey eyes that threatened to bore inside to his soul every time she looked at him like that.

Tonight, Nesta -- all sharpness, yet breathtakingly gorgeous despite having flown halfway across the country -- had just stared and stared at him as if he was naked in front of her. It both unnerved and excited him. But then that final head tilt, like she was about to reach out and touch him, Cassian knew he was a goner.

He had to excuse himself as quickly as possible. Cassian took a cold shower before collapsing into his hotel bed. The two of them were supposed to drive through Iowa together. It was going to be a very long week.

---

Cassian was already at the breakfast bar when Nesta came down to the hotel restaurant the next day.

"Good morning," she said, sleep still thick in her voice.

Cassian handed her a binder and a cup of black tea. "Good morning," he said brightly. He had swum 50 laps in the hotel pool after waking up early and not being able to fall back asleep. His hair was still damp from washing out the chlorine.

Nesta drank her tea, already annoyed by his chipper tone. She had never been a morning person. "What is this?" She opened the binder.

"Our Iowa field strategy," he replied. "We have a small team here. They have been setting up field offices across the state. We need to meet with them."

Nesta thumbed through the document and drank her tea in silence. It was too early to make small talk, she decided.

"Do you want to eat something before we go?" he asked, eyeing her across the table.

"No," she said without looking up from the binder. "When will the yard signs and banners be ready?"

"When Rhys announces," Cassian replied. "The volunteers are ready to distribute them day of."

When she drained her cup, she realized that Cassian had somehow learned exactly how she took her morning tea -- Assam tea brewed for longer than recommended, so it was a little bitter, served with a splash of milk and a dash of sugar. She finally looked up at him, taking in the loose, damp hair and tight-fitting black henley. He looked like a different person entirely -- more relaxed than he had been back in DC, as if he had been holding himself back all along.

Nesta slammed the binder shut in front of her. "Let's go," she said, not allowing herself to dwell on how he'd noticed that she didn't like coffee.

---

By the afternoon, Nesta decided that Iowa did not agree with her. Cassian, on the other hand, seemed to be in his element. He deftly drove them around the city in a red pickup truck -- useful for transporting supplies for the field offices, he had explained -- looking as if he had lived in the Midwest his whole life. Had he been born in the Midwest? Nesta found herself wondering and realized that she knew very little about Rhysand's top deputy.

"You've been out here often?" She asked, turning away from her laptop to look at him in the driver's seat.

Cassian shrugged. "Yeah, I've been through enough to know my way around," he replied, sparing her a brief glance, his hands steady on the steering wheel. "It's a nice city. I like getting out of DC."

The red pickup truck moved smoothly through the streets of Des Moines, blending seamlessly with the local traffic. Still feeling out of place, Nesta shifted her focus from her laptop to the cityscape outside. The buildings, the people, and the overall pace of life in Iowa were so different from what she was used to.

"How long have you been with the campaign?" Nesta asked, trying to piece together more of Cassian's story.

A small smile played on his lips. "Since the beginning," he replied. "Rhys, Az, and I go way back. I had helped out a bit during his first congressional campaign. I was between deployments back then. When Rhys said he was thinking about a presidential run, I came on full time."

"I take it you were also in the military then?"

Cassian nodded. "Lieutenant Colonel, Delta Force, fifteen years," he said, his voice even, eyes fixed ahead. "Az too. Although he mostly liaison with the CIA -- sneaky bastard."

Nesta watched him for a moment, taking in his laid-back demeanor and the way he seemed to appreciate the hum of the truck engine, as if what he had revealed was nothing. Delta Force was the most elite unit of the US Army, executing specialized, often highly classified, operations. That Cassian had been a commander in the special forces, it made perfect sense -- the way he carried himself, so confident and open, yet full of latent strength.

The truck slowed as they approached a busy intersection. "Why politics, though?" she asked, her journalistic instincts kicking in. "After a military career like that, why join a presidential campaign?"

Cassian's expression turned thoughtful. "The simple answer is because Rhys asked me to," he said, his eyes still on the road.

"And the real reason?"

They made a right into a parking lot of a small strip mall. "Full of questions today, aren't we?" Cassian smirked as he stopped the truck.

"Did something happen?" Nesta pressed.

Cassian turned to face her fully. "Now I see why you were such an effective journalist," his smirk only grew wider.

Nesta rolled her eyes and opened the truck door. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow around her. She squinted at the row of storefronts and spotted the makeshift "Starborn for America" office.

"Come on," Cassian called, his long hair blowing free in the spring breeze. "Baz is waiting for us."

---

---

---

A/N: I know Iowa is no longer going first in the Democratic primaries in 2024, but I just loved the idea of Nesta and Cassian making their way through the Midwest (the next chapter is going to be so delicious). And I'm not an expert on political strategy or the military. So I'm sorry for any errors in the real-life details.

Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tag list.

Tag list: @acourtofladydeath @fwiggle @swifti-ed

[laiqualaurelote]

I’ve recently finished all the men and women merely players, and am currently reading it again, and I can’t help but wonder about Henry. How did he get from Kansas to the ship? Who else is on the ship? Michelle? Ted’s mom? Strangers? I have about a million questions and wanted to ask if their was anything in your head about what the past twelve years have been like for the other Lassos. If not, that just means I can run absolutely wild with my imagination and have Michelle on the ship too just because I’m a sucker for a (mostly) happy ending.

Hello, thank you for your interest in all the men and women merely players backstory! The ship is an expedition ship, not a passenger ship. The primary purpose of the voyage is to make contact with the UK again. When Henry says it is the first expedition to make it across from America, what he doesn't say is that there were likely many other attempts that failed, either because they turned back or were shipwrecked. It would have been considered a dangerous crossing, and it would only have been undertaken by professional sailors - Henry included. Neither Michelle nor Dottie, nor any civilians, would have been on board.

I like to think that both Michelle and Dottie survived the pandemic, though not together - Dottie is likely doing her own thing, and thriving very well wherever she is. Because of what happened to Ted, Henry grew up with the intention of going to sea; by the time we meet him in the fic, he would already have had some experience sailing around America. Michelle would not have been happy with this - she would have preferred he stay safe and dry in Kansas - but she would eventually have given him her blessing to go on the UK expedition. The ship - a brig - would likely have followed an old transatlantic sailing route from New York to Liverpool.

It is worth noting that at this point, Henry is 21 - an adult, not the child of the show - and that sailing is his vocation. In the long run he isn't going to be staying put in the UK any more than he would in Kansas. He may continue plying the transatlantic line; he may voyage further. Now he's seen his father, he'll want to see the rest of the world.

[j4m3s-b4k3r]

Little Mansion on the Prairie

We have been sketching from TV shows, and a recent fave is Downton Abbey, starring the wonderful Maggie Smith. In my opinion, she steals every almost episode as the dowager Countess, Lady Grantham. Inflecting every line with subtle flaring of nostril, tilt of head or withering stare, that imbue her character with equal part haughty snottiness, dry humour, and wry wisdom as the scene requires. She is so much fun to watch. This sketch here was my attempt at a straight portrait with my left hand, but my cartoon roots betray me. Try as I might to deliver a faithful representation, my version of Maggie Smith ends up looking like a pug dog in a fur coat.

Downton Abbey is a glorified soap opera about the privileged British aristocracy (written by the real-life Baron Fellowes of West Stafford, no less). So, why should an uncouth Australian like me care two hoots about Lady Rose's utterly spiffing debutant Ball at Buckingham palace? Or whether Lady Mary can ever live down the beastly scandal of finding a dead Turk in her plush 4-poster bed?

A big part of the appeal for me is the beautiful recreation of period detail, which British TV shows do so convincingly. Leaving me with a nostalgia for a past that I would have most certainly been shut-out of, had I been there. This fascinated ambivalence is best represented in the show itself by Tom, the lefty Irish Chauffeur, who started out reviling the CrawIeys but is now one of them. Sort of.

I grew-up wondering whether the impoverished Walton family, or the equally desperate Ingals family, could make enough to survive their next winter. Now, for better or worse, I watch each week to see the tribulations of the 1% Crawley family. Will Lord Grantham find enough money to run his 80 room country Mansion and his opulent London Townhouse? Can he keep his pampered family in hot-and-cold running servants, and multiple changes of posh evening wear and diamonds? "I say, frightfully desperate times, what?"

This soap opera about the two communities living side by side in an early 20th century British mansion– upper class aristocrats and their working class servants– may be an obvious choice for a country with a history of an ingrained class structure, such as England. But I think it’s interesting that American shows don’t do this more often.

In an American TV show about a legal firm we only follow the lawyers and never meet the people in the mailroom. If a show is set on a Starship, we will meet only the bridge officers and not the tech support dweebs on lower decks. If it is set in a hospital we only care about the doctors, and not the orderlies or the folks processing the stool samples in the lab. Come on America, where’s your sense of upstairs/downstairs 1%/99% camaraderie? The fantasy here in the USA is that it is a completely egalitarian society, but the not-so-simple reality is rarely examined on TV.

As much as I enjoy the milieu of DOWNTON ABBEY, after several seasons the show is not as interesting to me as it once was. Simply because a status quo is maintained episode to episode and season to season. There’s always something just about to happen. Someone is about be accused of murder. Someone is about to be disgraced by scandal, and someone is about to leave the family. Inevitably, most of these things work out and are back to approximately where we’d started.

The series’ first season, set in 1912, started off strong, with boyfriends dying during covert sex. Their corpses secretly carried through the mansion by candlelight in dead of night. There were revelations about this servant or the next, and mini scandals always a-brewing with the aristocrats upstairs. And we were constantly warned that the modern world was about to change everything.

Then of course there was WW1 to deal with. But in hindsight, the only true drama in the entire series happened when a couple of the real life actors tired of the corsets they had to wear and the scripts they had to read, and decided to leave the show. Which forced the writers’ dramatic hand, and some characters had to actually die to be written out of the series.

DOWNTON ABBEY promised to be a chronicle of a time of great societal change in Britain. Strange then that so little of that real-life drama is in the show. The most recent season is set in 1924, and the only dramatic change in circumstances was the death of the dog in the title sequence.

I could hold on a few more seasons till WW2, just because I know that eventually Hitler can be relied upon to force some drama, the bloody trouble maker. But any time that you see Fascism as a solution to your problems, it’s time to re-examine your priorities.

[365runesoftheamalgamations]

Meet The Writer [ 01 ]

hello and how are you?

We are here to answer the call of the tag games! And maybe finally empty out our hoard a little! ( ◞･౪･)

Thank you to the wonderful @blind-the-winds for tagging us! You can find their response right here! :D

Rules: Use this picrew to make yourself and answer the questions!

Tagging with no pressure: @smol-feralgremlin | @crypticcodexcreations | @lockejhaven and of course the open tag! we would love to get to know everyone!

Three fun facts about me:

We are a System that holds all of our alters within our Works! You may have even seen a few names and thoughts throughout the Works of our Storyverse; we are all living within both the Realities and our Fantasies! :D

We are left-handed, and yes, we did eat our twin within the womb and yes, she did Uno Reverse us and split herself into many souls so that we could never be rid of her. she also gave us a lazy eye.

We collect many things, included but not limited to: clocks, glassware, marbles, plants, dead men's chests, notebooks.

Favourite season:

Our favorite season has to be split among us. It has to be either Sprint - the Life, the petals, the birth, the absolute refusal to not be taken by the Winter - or Harvest - the decay, the soft whispers, the promises of survival, the seeing of finality, the Trees, the colors - because gods are we a sucker for putting so many things into random parts of our lives.

Continent where I live:

Nothing to see hear, we are within North America, more than likely.

How I spend my time:

For the most part, we spend our times within the considerations of other people. We help around the Realities, making sure our Family is alright, or we ask around our friends and see if anything is up.

We also write - trying to get that daily habit solidly planted - and read - occasionally or obsessively - as well as game - we have unhealthy hour counts in Stardew Valley and we will not stop - whenever we can.

In between everything else, we love to penpal, garden, bullet journal, handcraft, stare into space. Just like to do things whenever they come across our Existences.

Are you published?

To be completely honest, there is probably at least one or two things out in the Worlds from our younger days. We know of at least two anthologies that have something of ours within them. But we do not have them or even know what has become of them.

In the basic, most comprehensible thought of the word, not at all, and honestly, we do not mind that Reality.

Introvert or Extrovert:

We probably fall in the spectrum of a ambivert, though our gauge is definitely hitting closer to the intro- end. We like company when we know of it; we enjoy people when we can hold our own terms and boundaries.

We grew with the crowds of our Realities, and we hate being alone when there is nothing else to it. But we definitely wither on either side of that coin of sociability.

Favourite Meal:

SOUP.

That is about it. We love all kinds of soup. Beef stew? Yes. Chicken Noodle Soup? Absolutely. Ramen? Please and thank you.

We grew up with Beef Stew and Menudo, we craved the comfort of just normal soups, and we found and fell in love with ramen and noodles. We can still predictably ask for soup if people want our opinion and we could probably go a whole month having soup of all sorts before we break out repeats.

We also can make soup as long as we have random ingredients. It's our special skill, if you will. ☆｡ﾟ+.(人-ω◕ฺ)ﾟ+.ﾟ

☕ Natsume Rune, the Natsume Rune System

[crazyapplekiss]

Land of Wood and Trolls

Smack in the middle of the sea, surrounded by islands much larger than their own, the people of the small island prayed that the chaos of the world would not reach them.  Yet the Rash laps at the shores, teasing the life within against their own mortality.

The people had first been superstitious. They heard the stories from afar. News outlets swarmed the television like flies around the trash in the evening sun. News that Denmark had a virus that was spreading like wildfire across the flat plains. Norway and Sweden had got caught in the fray. Finland, Russia, China. Lands many had never even heard of or scarcely seen. Even Iceland - wherever that may be - had shut its doors, closing off there boarders for safety. Men had been glued to the stories wherever a television or radio was present, howling that the foreign people offshore were going crazy. Something like the Rash could never be real. Another lie of false words and fear to keep men in line they supposed. It had not reached them therefore they would not believe.

The superstition had begun to dim after some time though.

Word that Canada had been stuck and America was being attacked by the illness. Pictures had floated around of people with masks and long coats. Emergency messages bared warnings to stay away from infected animals and people. The people of Jamaica had become afraid. There families could not reach them, so far from their home among the waves and one by one each country had become silent as reporters had become ill and failed to show up. And rumors. So many rumors had spread that creatures had begun to emerge. Creatures - people feared - that had come of the rash. That they once were human.

It was all too much to handle at once. Though nothing had reached the land yet everyones lives had stalled. Trade was none existent. Travel was a thing of the past.  What happened? People wondered yet no one had dared to look over the bleak shores for answers. Answers they had never asked for that washed up on the beach in the form of a creature of nightmares. Could such a horror be evaded? Brought by man or by the gods as punishment? Or had the land - as beautiful as she - finally lost her luck she had been blessed with for so many centuries?

The Rash came and spread since the fishermen had dealt with the creatures that had never stopped scarring the boarders of the beach, yet not all had succumbed to the Rash as everyone had feared. Some had died free from becoming the monsters, others weren't so lucky. While a blessed few had gained immunity and had a gift given to them by God that no one could explain. Whether it was witchcraft or something more it was a start of something that gave the people a chance at survival.

Smack in the middle of the sea, far from the lands that collapsed around her. Jamaica stood. Small and battered. Baring mountains that tore winds and stopped storms, covered in mild forests and greenery for miles on end with veins of rivers flowing in between. Occasionally an animal or two - a stray horse, goat or mule wandered through the drunken silence. Small towns and lone houses marked the plains and cities and highways filled its body. No longer were the lights polluting the skies and blocking the stars. The wind carried noises of nature and maybe a voice as gentle as the air that flowed through the tropical land. And where the nightmares grew a mage would follow. It wasn't anything special. A large rock floating in the water. No more than a blotch against the large mark of lands that surrounded her. Yet within, life managed to survive as the world died.

I could go on about how the little island i call my home had become my biggest fear, anticipator or nightmare as the world grew silent around me. No, i won't divulge those facts. I have lived it all once before. It is best to keep moving forward. The power within me grows strong as the voices that surround me grow stronger. The sunset calls for work to begin.

For now just sit watch the sun as it kisses the horizon and bathes the land in its blessed glow and pray that the claws of the damaged and forgotten may never reach you.

The world will keep turning. Tomorrow will start a new.

[wyrmfedgrave]

Pics: Some amazing auroras.

Output: Short Takes.

1. During Lovecraft's "Great Retreat" period, around 1910 AD, he cultivated the image of a "Boston Brahman" - America's answer to British nobles.

At only 5 foot & 10 inches, Howard's thin frame & broad shoulders gave others the impression of height.

HPL dressed conservatively, using his grandad's 19th century clothes as his style guide.

Lovecraft loved wearing grey striped slacks. With a black coat, bow-tie & high buttoned shoes.

This austere look would only soften with age.

But, Howard wasn't ever a fan of modern styles.

HPL thought that his clothing choices gave him the appearance of maturity & restored his lost aristocratic flair.

But, alas, it was only a wish to be like his grandad.

2. Lovecraft dreamed of recovering the family estate & making a name for himself in chemistry or astronomy.

But, Howard's lack of a formal school education, his few social skills & having so little income, all conspired to prevent him from ever attaining his goals.

HPL couldn't compete as a sportsman - because he didn't like dogs.

He was a total cat worshiper!!

Even after Lovecraft's s own cat (the infamous N_rman) disappeared 1 day, he took to caring for the neighbor- hood cats.

And, though Howard inherited a fine gun collection, the killing of a squirrel drove him to give his weapons away.

Except for an old show piece flintlock musket...

Worse, HPL wasn't very athletic - sleeping most of the day away.

He rarely went out in the sun...

And, his diet consisted of self-made meals - often made up of sweets & ice cream!

It's amazing that he survived as long as he did...

Quotes:

1. "Because the cosmos is meaning- less... we... secure our... illusions of values, direction & interest by up- holding... artificial (cultures). (And,) since nothing means anything... we must preserve the... arbitrary back- grounds which (seem to) make things mean something."

2. "Our (sensory) means... are few & our ideas of objects (is) narrow. We see things only as we are (built) to... We can (not know) their absolute nature with (just) 5 feeble senses. (In- stead), we comprehend the... complex cosmos (only dimly)."

3. "Good & evil, beauty & ugliness are only (the) fruit of (perception), whose sole value lies in... what chance made our (fore)fathers think & feel... Whose finer details are different for every race & culture."

4. "With feeble senses we pretend to (know) the... complex cosmos. Yet, other beings - with (other) senses - might... see... things differently. (They) might... study... matter, energy & life... close (by). Yet, never be detected (by our) senses."

5. "In my... life, I am... more responsive to beauty than horror. Indeed, I (have) never experienced real cosmic horror - except in nightmares. However, I... find that only horror... has any unique- ness or originality."

6. "The appeal of the... macabre is (usually) narrow because it demands... a certain degree of imagination &... detachment from (the) everyday."

7. "Pleasure... is to wonder (about) the unexplored (&) unexpected... (What) is hidden & the (eternal) thing that lurks behind superficial (changes)."

8. "Some (dreamers) awake... with... phantasms of enchanting hills & gardens, fountains... singing in the sun, golden cliffs (above) murmuring seas, plains that stretch to... sleeping cities of bronze & stone, of... heroes... riding along... thick forests."

"(But,) then we (see) that we... looked back... into (the) wonder that was ours - before we (grew) wise & unhappy."

9. "The ignorant &... deluded are... to be envied. That which is not known... does not bother us. An imagined... peril (can) not harm us. To know the truth behind reality is the far greater burden."

10. "As for... Republicans - how can one regard seriously (the) frightened, greedy (& power hungry) idlers who shut their eyes to history & science. (People who) steel their (hearts) against decent human sympathy."

Enjoy your Memorial Day...

End.

[space-ship-earth-crew]

Spaceship Earth Crew

Fellowship of Trek

We have entered an unprecedented time in human history, where the promise and peril of technology has never been greater. The threat most concerning at the moment, is the skyrocketing levels of CO2 in the atmosphere leading to all the climate catastrophe stress that could trigger a 3rd World War. I was born at 330 CO2 parts per million in the atmosphere. Today we are almost up one hundred more, where the last time this level existed in our Earth atmosphere, was around 3 million years ago. Already exacerbating the climate crisis, the oil age continues to dominate our lives and planet’s fate. And we have already begun the very dangerous experiment of determining the effects micro-plastics will have on human and animal biology, when there is nowhere now we can go to escape them. 

I want to believe in a future where technology doesn’t lead to our self-destruction, but becomes humanity’s salvation. And that’s where the vision of Star Trek comes in, a vision about humankind building a utopian paradise on Earth through the promise of technological means harnessed towards humanist ends. 

For as long as I remember, Star Trek has always been around in my life. My dad introduced the original series to me when I was a small kid, I never really got it though, and grew up in the early 80’s loving Star Wars more than anything. It wasn’t until 7th grade when Star Trek the Next Generation came out and rocked my world, especially the concept of the holodeck, a virtual world as life-like as our own. 

I was raised in a fundamentalist Christian church that preached more doomsday sermons than I care to remember, making me depressed about our fate. But Star Trek imagines a future where we survive the worst in ourselves, using technology to create a heavenly future for humankind. Every week at service, I imagined the sermon was a bad program playing in a holodeck, one in which I could exit at any moment simply calling for the arch.

Then I could end this depressing program of Earth on the brink of Armageddon, and retire to the enchanted corridors of a Galaxy Class Starship exploring the wonders of our universe. 

Upon delving deeper into Star Trek mythology, I later discovered their vision of the future is bleak too. It’s timeline imagines World War 3 starting in 2026, resulting in 600 million casualties. In the first episode of Star Trek Strange New Worlds released in May 2022, Captain Christopher Pike tells two warring factions of an alien world, that World War 3 destroyed 30% of humankind, which would be around 2 and a half billion people if the population is 8 billion in 2026. 

If the Star Trek Utopian timeline for our future is possible without the world war, you can see this spirit was trying to communicate with us in this episode, even in the face of recent news headlines, showing we are living in very precarious times. Constant threats flood our news of war between the superpowers that could turn nuclear. Whether it’s the danger of the Ukraine War spinning out of control, or China’s threats of invading Taiwan, clearly things could get a lot worse when adding a climate catastrophe into the mix. On top of all this, there are calls for a new Civil War in America, with partisan hostility at the highest levels we’ve seen in centuries. 

Having endured over two years of a global pandemic that killed over 15 million people, and seeing the start of a horrifying new war in Ukraine, amplifying hostilities between the world’s superpowers, things feel like they could be right on track for the future of World War 3 in 2026 just like Gene Roddenberry imagined. And yet, expressed in the premiere of Strange New Worlds, the spirit of possibility is asking that we collectively wake up from this nightmare, because our future has not yet been written. There’s still time to turn things around. 

Both the religious and secular visions of our future have instilled within me a boundless optimism for our species when we finally make Earth our true country and humankind its citizens. But can we get to heaven without first experiencing hell? Can we prevent Armageddon and the 3rd World War, rewriting the Bible and the story of Star Trek? Space the final frontier awaits our answer and whether or not our species will ever live long and prosper for real. Star Trek has inspired me to answer this question in the affirmative. We can make it so, almost every human on the planet already has their very own communicator and universal translator. Now all we need is a dedicated crew of Spaceship Earth to help our species go where no one has gone before. 

I want to believe the beautiful dream is more powerful than the horrifying nightmare, threatening to unfold around us. I want to believe I can find fellowship with the optimists of humanity, even in the face of conditions becoming more dire on Earth than we have ever seen. Religious fanaticism, right wing extremism, nationalism and even white supremacy are making a comeback in governments around the world. Immigrants are being demonized and we’re being divided into black and white world-views as church and state come perilously close to merging. 

I have traveled across America from sea to shining sea, to find megachurch after megachurch in every state, serving as medium to facilitate millions of evangelicals joining forces in a hive like mind political network, mobilized for the election in 2016, 2020 and now 2024, becoming a tool of political polarization. I look across this landscape, and I’m trying to find something to give me hope, but where is the political network to elect progressive secular candidates who see the big picture, speaking for the Earth rather than any single nation, seeing our planet, not as a resource for capitalism, but as a collective organism capable of healing and bringing into being a future like Star Trek.

The other day a Jehovah’s Witness came knocking on my front door, asking to talk to me about the future. I responded, “You want to talk about Star Trek?” Unfortunately they weren’t amused, and eventually walked away after I told them I didn’t want to talk about the Bible. But this got me thinking, “I wish Star Trek people showed up at my door instead, seeking to build a new political network while asking to talk about another kind of future” I could totally get behind and join in to help create, if invited. 

Unlike the Jehovah’s Witnesses preparing for the end, there are no injunctions or divine curses in Star Trek, directed at anyone trying to rewrite a new beginning, with a revised timeline, where we build a future and a starship without the World War in 2026. There are no fatwas against J.J. Abrams for creating the Kelvin Timeline. We are free to skip the nightmare straight to living the beautiful dream, and I don’t know of a single fan who thinks otherwise even if the current timeline has another outcome. 

Imagine a world where in every major city, you would see people in Star Trek uniforms on the streets alongside Jehovah’s Witnesses and as alternative to them knocking on your door, to share good news of a brighter future, inspired by the greatest story ever told about the final frontier. If our civilization has already built three life sized replicas of Noah’s Ark spread across three continents in the northern hemisphere, one of them being a Disney style knock off theme park in Kentucky that tries to convert visitors, surely we as a species can find the resolve to build at least one life sized replica of the Starship Enterprise, using it as inspiration for moving to the next level, converting pessimists to optimism, building a future and humanity’s first Star Ship so we can explore, rather than wage the last World War.

Because the symbolism of the Enterprise can be seen as a metaphor of (one of Star Trek’s famous early fans) Martin Luther King’s Dream Reborn for our entire spaceship Earth, and all humanity united and working together as its crew-members, we can imagine the possibilities these replicas could facilitate to transform consciousness.

We may not be ready yet for first contact and a United Federation of Planets, but the peoples of the world are ready to get moving now, to build a United Federation of Nations.

Imagine a full sized replica, of say the Enterprise D in a major world city, filled with hotel rooms as replica crew quarters, holodecks converted to theaters to play Trek, other science fiction shows and movies, virtual reality rides and adventures, Star Trek and sci-fi conventions held in the main and smaller shuttle bays, fan film festivals, ship tours, science labs, merchandise, gift shops, restaurants, bars, lounges, science and astronomy seminars and classes, gaming and gaming design conventions, school field trips, TED and science talks, STEM events along with a full sized aquarium in Cetacean Ops. Star Trek could help counter the rise of tribal religious fanaticism on Earth, while inspiring Christians and Muslims to rewrite their Revelation / End Times timeline of the future too. 

Imagine a fellowship of Trek, no holy scriptures needed, just a tablet or smartphone with over 900 episodes of Star Trek, over a dozen films, many games and potentially thousands of novels.

We meet every week, not in churches, but first in virtual star ships, where a strengthened community with renewed purpose, can raise capital through donations, to build replica Starship bridges in every major city, our sacred meeting space to someday become as plentiful as Christian churches in the West and Mosques in the Middle East. The view screen in every bridge will be the main window into our cosmos, (eventually to be built a quarter size of the Volume used to film Strange New Worlds) calling us to awaken to a spectacle beyond imagination; a place to explore Astronomy and the incredible discoveries we see every day through science, whether through probes sent to Mars, new exoplanet discoveries or James Webb / Hubble space imagery. The bridge will be our cathedral of the final frontier, for exploring the wonders of our universe through smaller, more intimate meetings with your designated bridge crew. 

Larger gatherings can be facilitated in replica shuttle-bays, (big enough for planetariums) built standard along with every bridge, while doubling as VR space to explore strange new worlds, along with a communal setting for special events. Here we can strengthen our community as crew-members of spaceship Earth, where we organize, become a support to each other and a global political force, countering the rise of theocracy, nationalism and fascism, transforming extremism through the beautiful vision of Star Trek; about connection, relationships, family, fellowship, and a future in which humankind is united, with infinite diversity in infinite combinations our greatest strength, not weakness. 

✌🏽👁️🌎👁️🚀✨🌘✨🟠✨🪐✨🌟🖖🏽 

If you are a world citizen who loves Star Trek and believes we should explore, not wage World War, I want to join forces with you to change the future and the world, so we can all live long and prosper! 

🖖🏽🖖🏻🖖🏿🖖

This is my plan for taking these ideas to a new level!

Create a Fellowship of Trek Facebook group, sharing objectives and connecting with other fans of science fiction that have become dreamers, and share the same vision. Trek doesn’t necessarily mean this will be entirely about Star Trek, but “Trek” as more of a symbolic word representing a journey into the unknown, carrying you into higher consciousness, where it began with Gene Roddenberry’s dream that has touched the lives of millions of fans since. Star Trek is what I personally will focus on in sharing this vision, because I find it a useful tool and container in which total freedom exists to explore other science fiction mediums with overlapping vision. 

Use Fellowship of Trek to find a common core structure, from which other science fiction dreams can be explored. This means we begin with Star Trek, but from there it can branch out and become something else entirely. For instance, bringing people together into the group who share common ground of Trek and its future vision, but once they meet, they decide to team up for some other progressive purpose to build their own new dream. So it can become a launching pad for other people to connect and build dreams that bring us closer to a vision in the spirit of Star Trek. Imagine if this was the objective of all peoples in all the world religions; bringing people together to empower, so they can go on to build something new, and aren’t manipulated to stay in a particular dogma or church.

When we are talking about the common core structure of Fellowship of Trek, I am specifically thinking of an alternative to the common core structure I grew up in with my parents in Christianity. Bible studies were the common ground that brought together Christians into fellowship. When I attended them as a kid, I always wished something existed as a secular alternative, that could even become more potent, attracting people who are more progressive and free thinking. And that’s the idea behind Fellowship of Trek. Instead of a holy scripture, we can access all of Trek Canon online, which is constantly growing, currently comprising over 900 episodes, over a dozen films, many games and potentially thousands of novels. This is the source material that can be used to anchor the fellowship, where we meet in bridge crew virtual groups, or physically at neutral locations or in member homes, to watch episodes, films, play games, or read novels, and then break them down for analysis to uncover their profound meaning.  Bridge Crew is a good name for these groups, because of the symbolic nature the bridge can represent, as well as the literal vision it serves as the command center for a unified Starship crew. Through its metaphor, the bridge can be seen as a sacred space in Star Trek, where family bonds are formed that transcend biology. Diverse humans from all over Earth work on the bridge, and it’s such a progressive place, aliens from other worlds are also welcome. Bridge is also a word associated with human architecture that unites a divide. And that’s what the bridge can also facilitate; a place where diverse peoples can find common ground as a spiritual family that transcends biology. 

The next component of Fellowship of Trek, is becoming a vehicle for a new politics of the 21st century, with the objective of building a united world like imagined in Star Trek, where humanity is united in peace and prosperity, using technology to free itself from the suffering of poverty and conflict, to explore rather than wage the last world war. This translates into electing secular humanist politicians who see the same big picture, and speak not for a single nation, but for the entire Earth, seeing it as a single organism, capable of healing when we refuse the Capitalistic end game of warring and competing nations that threaten ecological collapse and World War. 

Fellowship of Trek can begin as a homeless virtual bridge crew, but its ideal trajectory is to turn dreams into reality; building an actual replica starship bridge as a sacred communal meeting space where members can physically meet and anchor to their community.

This is the path observed with the Ticonderoga Original Series bridge and Enterprise set built by James Crawly, who has unwittingly created a Star Trek community, where pilgrimages are now taken across the world by fans, to visit the set and attend Star Trek conventions.

There is no limit to the number of bridges that can be built, even after running out of starship designs from the series, new ones can be envisioned and constructed.

If there is a network of Christian churches in the west, and Mosques in the Middle East mobilized for positive social work like raising donations that can save lives as charity, serve as communal space for marriages and funerals, but also known for creating damaging social structures, such as raising up new generations of missionaries that serve empire and imperialism while indoctrinating children, and also serving to shape regressive political landscapes in particular countries they infect, why can’t we build a better alternative? 

Imagine a world where starship healing bridges expand along with their communities of higher consciousness, serving to elect a new political network that counters fascism, nationalism, tribalism and religious extremism, serving to raise new awareness, building up walls where they belong  between church and state, while tearing them down when they serve to separate peoples of earth along, national, religious and ethnic lines. 

Imagine a fellowship of Trek expanding to every continent, with healing bridges in every major city as plentiful as Christian churches in the West and Mosques in the Middle East. And with such a network, we may begin to challenge the great religious social dominance, transcending their extremist brainwashed variety, using love of the wonder, mystery and endless possibilities of our universe to prevail over their fascist, bigoted God of fear, ultimately winning over the heart and soul of planet Earth. As of today, we have no life sized replica of the Starship Enterprise in any world city, yet we have 3 life sized replicas of Noah’s Ark spread across three continents in the northern hemisphere, celebrating a story of a man who builds a ship commissioned by a fascist God, to save a single family used to salvage the animal kingdom, but at the price of an extinction level flood event, he sets in motion to kill off the vast majority of all other creatures and humans. 

Imagine if we could turn this disturbing dominance upside down, where the greatest story ever told about the final frontier takes center stage, whose influence in the evolution of technology has inspired dreamers on Earth since 1966, pushing us all to a new level when their most important innovations we  have yet to see in any sort of beginning stage, are finally realized; with an actual working starship built along with that of a united spaceship Earth. 

Imagine if a fellowship of Trek could become the vehicle by which we could achieve both of these, building bridges that connect our world together into one, while raising interest in space exploration, eventually collecting enough capital through donation, to build a replica starship of the Enterprise on Earth in a major city connected to a more inspiring theme park of our future, inspiring untold millions of humans who visit, eventually taking up careers in aerospace engineering, and then going on to work on humanity’s first working starship, pushing us closer towards an interstellar, interplanetary species living on a united world at type 1 civilization status like imagined in Star Trek! 

So, to play my part in getting the ball rolling, hoping to team up with other dreamers, taking us closer to this vision, I want to begin with these following steps

Begin Fellowship of Trek Facebook Group.

Create a blueprint for the bridge we seek to build.

First build the bridge in 3D VR space.

Raise capital to purchase land for its resting space

Begin construction. 

Completion. 

If you build it, they will come; facilitating community around Star Trek and great science fiction, while inspiring more to follow. 

Serve as blueprint for other fellowships of Trek to take root in their communities, and build their own Star Ship Bridge, ultimately pooling our resources and capital, eventually raising enough donations and interest to build a Starship Enterprise replica in a major Earth city, along with a theme park to inspire optimism for our collective future as a United Earth.

Expanding on the bridge with shuttle bay for larger events, along with a planetarium to educate members about astronomy and the wondrous beauty in our universe.  

Go on with continuation of fellowship, organizing with others to elect progressive humanist candidates who see the big picture, and work towards a united Earth, where we have more money and resources to explore, not wage World War!

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

White Smoke by John Gilstrap

Victoria Emerson #3

 Good fiction is believable, draws the reader in, and makes them feel a part of the story – this series does just that. I am not sure if this is the final book in a trilogy or if there will be more books to look forward to.

 What I liked:

* Victoria: politician, widow, mother, prepper, convinced that good will overcome evil, willing to do what is difficult, not always easy to understand her thinking but admired her and wondered if I could/would do what she did

* Adam, Caleb, and Luke Emerson: sons of Victoria, well trained by their parents, grew up quickly, capable, strong, intelligent and lethal

* Major McRea: a good man, strong sense of duty, widow, stalwart, protective, strategic thinker, grounds Victoria and provides balance

* The plot, pacing, writing, and conclusion…if it is the conclusion

* That it made me think, care, feel, and wonder what skills I would have to offer if in a similar situation after a nuclear war and how I would act and react

* Getting to see how the Ortho community was doing and how those at the annex fared – definitely would have preferred to be in Ortho!

* Wondering what will happen next in the lives of the Emersons, the lives they come in contact with, and the rest of the world

* All of it really…except…

 What I didn’t like:

* Parsons and his posse and how wickedly evil they were

* Thinking about how easily society can devolve

* Contemplating government and how it does-doesn’t benefit society

 Did I like this book? Yes

Would I read more by this author/in this series? Definitely

 Thank you to NetGalley and Kensington Books for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 5 Stars

     BLURB

 Perfect for fans of Tom Clancy and Ken Follett, the pulse-pounding new thriller from the New York Times bestselling author follows a community of survivors working to rebuild in the wake of a global conflict that has ravaged America, as they look to one woman—single mother and former West Virginia congressional representative Victoria Emerson—to balance survival with justice… One-time congressional representative Victoria Emerson has received a request from the deposed president of the United States—come to the bunker at Hilltop Manor, where the remnants of the U.S. government have been imprisoned. A ruthless band has seized power, leaving civilians to die of starvation and untreated injuries. The self-appointed leader, Roger Parsons, plans to punish the former rulers for thrusting the country into Hell Day, the devastating war that changed the world in just a few hours. Victoria is reluctant to leave Ortho, the West Virginia town she has developed and defended. But as a born leader, she feels the call of duty. Forging her way through a landscape terrorized by local warlords and desperate scavengers, she arrives at Hilltop Manor to find a powder keg of battling factions. The lofty ideals on which the Republic was founded and the values that once held society together have devolved into anarchy. Calling on her deepest personal resources and her unwavering convictions, Victoria must somehow return the rule of law to a society where many of the old rules and laws don’t matter anymore.

[that-spider-witch]

On “Dead” Cultures and Closed Spiritual Practices: Why Colonialism Is Still A Problem.

Let me start this by saying that, as far as my knowledge of Paganism and Polytheism as a whole goes, I’m what the internet witch community calls a “Baby Witch”. I’m stating this out of the gate because I know there will be lots of people, including witches who have more experience on the craft than me, who might decide to ignore what I have to say based on that fact alone, stating that I’m not knowledgeable enough to give my opinion about this.

Here’s the kicker: I’m a ‘baby witch’, yes, but I’m also a twenty-six year old Venezuelan woman. I’m an adult. I’m Latina. I’m a Christian-raised Pagan,but I’m also a Latinoamerican woman over all other things including that. I grew up on this culture, these are my roots. It is because of this background than I’m writing this post today.

Looking through the “Paganism” and “Witchcraft” tags of this website, I’ve seen a few posts throwing indigenous deities and spirits’ names around on lists alongside deties of open cultures. Yes, you can know better by doing your own research and not going by what just a random Tumblr user wrote on one post (as I hope its the case with everyone on this website), but the fact that pagan beginners are still getting fed misinformation is still worrisome to me.

There’s nothing like reading a so-called expert putting Ixchen (Maya), Xolotl (Nahuatl) and Papa Legba (Vodou) on the same damn list as Norse, Hellenic and Kemetic deities and tagging it on the tags aimed at beginners who might not know better to truly ruin your morning. I’m not mentioning user names here: If you know then you know.

To quote @the-illuminated-witch on her very good post about Cultural Appropriation: 

“Cultural appropriation is a huge issue in modern witchcraft. When you have witches using white sage to “smudge” their altars, doing meditations to balance their chakras, and calling on Santa Muerte in spells, all without making any effort to understand the cultural roots of those practices, you have a serious problem.

When trying to understand cultural appropriation in witchcraft, it’s important to understand the difference between open and closed magic systems. An open system is one that is open to exchange with outsiders — both sharing ideas/practices and taking in new ones. In terms of religion, spirituality, and witchcraft, a completely open system has no restrictions on who can practice its teachings. A closed system is one that is isolated from outside influences — usually, there is some kind of restriction on who can practice within these systems.”

A counter-argument I’ve seen towards this when someone wants to appropiate indigenous deities and spirits is to use the “dead culture” argument: Extinct cultures are more eligible for use by modern people of all stirpes. It is a dead culture and dead religion. It would be one thing if some part of the culture or religion was still alive, being used by modern descendants, but the culture died out in its entirety and was replaced, right? They were all killed by colonization, they are ancient history now, right?

Example: “If white people are worshipping Egyptian deities now, then why can’t I worship [Insert Aborigen Deity Here]?”

To which I have two things to say:

Ancient Egypt’s culture was open and imperialistic, meaning they wanted their religion to be spread. This is why Kemetism is not Cultural Appropriation, despite what some misinformed people might tell you. Similar arguments can also be made for the Hellenic and the Norse branches of Paganism, both practiced by people who aren’t Greek/Norse.

Who are you to say which cultures are “dead” and which are not?

Religious practices such as Vodou and Santería certainly aren’t dead, not that it keeps some Tumblr users from adding Erzuli as a “goddess” on their Baby Witch post, something that actual Vodou practitioners have warned against.

Indigenous cultures such as the Maya and the Mapuche aren’t dead, despite what the goverment of their countries might tell you. The Mapuche in particular have a rich culture and not one, but two witchcraft branches (The Machi and the Kalku/Calcu). Both are closed pagan practices that the local Catholic Church has continuously failed to assimilate and erase, though sadly not for lack of trying:

“The missionaries who followed the Spanish conquistadors to America incorrectly interpreted the Mapuche beliefs regarding both wekufes and gualichos. They used the word wekufe as a synonym for ideas of the devil, demons, and other evil or diabolical forces. This has caused misunderstanding of the original symbolism and has changed the idea of wekufe right up to the present day, even amongst the Mapuche people.”

For context, the Wefuke are the Calcu’s equivalent of the Familiar, as well as reportedly having more in common with the Fae than with demons anyway.

This and other indigenous religions are Closed because it is wrong for foreigners to just come and take elements from marginalized groups whom are still fighting to survive and that they weren’t born into. To just approppiate those things would be like spitting in their faces, treating them and their culture like a commodity, a shiny thing, a unique thing to be used like paint to spruce up your life or be special.

I know some of you are allergic to the word “Privilege”, but on this situation there really ain’t a better word to explain it. You weren’t born here, you don’t know what it is like, you are only able to see the struggle from an outsider’s point of view.

If a belief or practice is part of a closed system, outsiders should not take part in it. And with how many practices there are out there which are open for people of all races, there is really no excuse for you to do it.

Why Colonization Is Not “Ancient History”

If you have kept reading all this so far, you are probably wondering “Ok, but what does Colonization has to do with any of this?”

The answer? Everything.

With the general context of culture appropriation out of the way, let me tell you about why the whole “dead culture” argument rubs me the wrong way: Here in Venezuela, we have a goddess called Santa Maria de la Onza, or Maria Lionza for short, whom’s idol statue I have been using to illustrate this little rant. If you happen to know any Spanish, you might recognize the name as a derivative of Santa Maria, aka the Virgin Mary, and you are mostly correct: Her true indigenous name is theorized to have been Yara.

And I say “theorized” because it is a subject of hot debate whether she was really ever called that or not: Her original name, the name by which she was adored and worshipped by our ancestors, might have been forever lost to history.

That’s the legacy of colonization for you: Our cultures were stolen from us, and what they couldn’t erase they instead tried to assimilate. Our ancestors were enslaved, their lands and homes stolen, their artwork and literary works destroyed: The Maya and the Aztec Empire were rich in written works of all kinds, ranging from poetry to history records to medicine, and the Spaniards burned 99% of it, on what is probably one of the most tragic examples of book burning in history and one that people rarely ever talk about. 

People couldn’t even worship their own gods or pass their knowledge of them to their children. That’s why Maria Lionza has such a Spanish Catholic-sounding name, and that’s why we can’t even be sure if Yara was her name or not: The Conquistadors couldn’t steal our goddess from us, so they stole her name instead. Catholics really have a thing with trying to assimilate indigenous goddesses with the Virgin Mary, as they tried to do the same with the Pachamama.

On witchy terms, I’d define Maria Lionza as both a deity and a land spirit: Most internet pages explaining her mention the Sorte mountain as her holy place, but it is more along the lines that she is the mountain. 

You’d think that, with Venezuela and other Latinoamerican countries no longer being colonies, we’d be able to worship our own deities including her, right?

As far as a lot of Catholics seem to think and act, apparently we are not.

The Catholics here like to go out of their way to shame us, to call us “cultists”, to ostracize us, with a general call to “refrain from those pagan beliefs” because they go against the Catholic principles. Yes, the goddess with the Catholic-sounding name, a name she happens to share with a Catholic deity, apparently goes “against Catholic principles”. You really can’t make this shit up. (Linked article is in Spanish)

This is just an act of colonization out of many, of not wanting to stop until the culture they want to destroy is gone. Don’t believe for a second that this is really their God’s will or anything like that, they are just trying to finish what years of enslavement and murder couldn’t. They might not be actively killing us anymore, but they still want us dead.

So no, colonization is not some thing that has long passed and now only exist on history textbooks: It is still happening to this day. It is by treating it as old history that they can keep doing it, and it is by pushing the narrative that our indigenous cultures are “dead cultures” that they try to erase our heritage.

Because we are not dead. We are still here, we are alive, we have survived and we’ll keep on surviving, and our gods and goddesses are not yours to take.

¡Chao! 🐈

[specialagentlokitty]

Avengers x reader - Depths of the ocean

Hello, I was wondering if I could request for a fic of the Avengers x reader where the reader has a dragon inside her like Naruto has a beast inside him but the dragon inside reader is a Water dragon and gives the reader the ability to manipulate water and cause floods and storms. But reader is a villain or a vigilante and when the Avengers try taking her in she isn't too pleased since she wants no restrictions on her powers, her powers are her wish according to her and she gets to use them however she wants. Btw I love your work so much you are such an amazing writer :) You keep posting regularly and such good quality content too, if this hellsite had an award for best writers, you'd no doubt get it :) - Anon 💜

Minding your own business, you were laid on a rock in the middle of the river.

The sounds of rushing water and crashing waves was peaceful, it reminded you off home. Though you weren’t to sure what that would look like.

Your whole life you remember having to fight for who you were, your own brother tossed you aside once he found out who you were.

You knew this forest like the back of your hand, and you came here after a hard day. So, when the sound of steps approaching reached your ears, you immediately sat up.

“Dragon!” Someone yelled.

“If for god sake…” you mumbled.

Breaking the clearing of the trees was the avengers, all of them suited up and ready.

Though some of them sported bruises from your last encounter with them.

Standing up, you crossed your arms over your chest and tilted your head at the so called groups of heroes.

“Stalking people is illegal, as so called heroes you should know this.” You grumbled.

“You know why we’re here Dragon.” Tony said.

You scoffed, and rolled your eyes. Shaking your head a little, you stared directly at him.

“Go on, say my name.”

“(Y/N), it’s time you come in peacefully.” Steve said gently.

You scoffed again, letting your hands fall at the side of you, you balled them into fists.

“Peacefully? Is that what you think I’m going to do?”

“You either come willingly or by force, your call. But we’re bringing you in.” Natasha growled.

“You. Will. Not.”

The water around you started rushing a little more, angry waves crashing at the rock and the shore. You’re eyes lit up a ocean blue as you glared at them all.

“It’s over!” Thor yelled.

“Who are you to tell me it’s over! You shouted back.

The water carried on raging, clawing at the river bank as your breath quickened.

“You’re so quick to say it’s over. The fun has barely just begun!” You laughed.

“Enough!”

Tony flew at you, aiming one of his blasters right at you. Bringing your arms up, two bursts of water shaped as dragons slammed him into the ground.

Natasha cocked her gun and fired while Clint shot an arrow.

You easily blocked them with a shield of water.

You grew even angrier, water swirled around your body, covering you in the shape of a dragon and he stood tall.

His transparent form protecting yours, your eyes glowing brightly, shoulders heaving.

“You are so quick to hurt us, but when we hurt you we’re the bad guys!” You yelled.

“You killed people!”

“They killed me first! They turned me into a monster!”

“That’s no excuse!” Steve shouted back.

“Oh the so righteous captain America! Of course you’re right. Whom am I but a simple villain compared you, who has killed more people than I have! Who killed people for what? A friend?”

“This has nothing to do with the war.” He said lowly.

You laughed darkly, shaking your head as you took a step forward.

The dragon stepped forward and they took one back.

“What about me? Your own sister, Huh? You tossed me to the side when you found out what hydra did to me, your own blood!”

“Kill me then!” He yelled.

You smiled sadly and shook your head.

“I’m not going to kill you. That would be to easy, no. I’m going to let you live, and you can watch your only surviving family member become the very thing you swore to defeat. A villain.”

“We’ll stop you.” Clint scoffed.

You laughed loudly, grinning from ear to ear. Large waves built up behind you.

“You think you can touch me?” You asked.

There was a tense silence around you.

“I have one of the most fear entities trapped inside me, one who as just as much anger as I do. You think you can do much as lay a finger on me?”

“We will stop you.”

“Why?”

“It’s our job.” Tony said.

You tilted your head at the billionaire.

“Am I such a bad person? We’ve all killed people, correct? We’ve all be the reason why someone’s life was cut so short.”

“No, we’re not the same.”

“All murders are the same, you just label yourselves as heroes to get away with it.”

The water slowly calmed down, and you stood on its surface giving them all one mad smile.

“When you have no world to protect, what will you be then?” You whispered.

That was it, you dropped into the water and vanishes before them.

They knew they had to find and capture you soon, but how could you touch someone made of water?