#like you are setting yourself up for failure for what. to be in the advanced class? that litrally nobody cares about or will care about ever

[lukesunbornn]

not to have a superiority complex but my peers are so so so so so so so so stupid.

[communistkenobi]

hi, i'd like to read marx's capital, but I've heard it's quite challenging. do you think there is a best way to go about reading it, maybe skipping or reading chapters in a particular order or taking notes in a particular way?..

I read some parts of it a very long time ago so I can’t give specific advice on what to skip. I’m preparing to read it in August for an exam, and I’ll be using David Harvey’s companion to Marx’s Capital as a study + learning guide. David Harvey also has video lectures about it that you can watch, which are probably the most accessible.

however, and I mean this in a completely non-judgemental way, I think an important question to ask is why you want to read Capital - is it for Marxist theory cred? Are people telling you that you have to read it? Do you feel you ‘need’ to read it to understand Marxist theory or call yourself a socialist/communist? Is it casual intellectual curiosity? Is it part of a larger reading set that you’re doing? I’m not going to discourage you from reading it, but i wouldn’t recommend starting with it if you want to read Marx, particularly if you haven’t read a lot of economic/political theory.

and i want to be clear I’m not trying to talk down to you, I ask these question to myself constantly because it helps inform my learning priorities - what is it that I want to get out of this text, what are my goals and expectations, what personal/intellectual/moral worth am I tying to the completion of this text, and so on. Capital is a difficult and boring read! something I’ve seen both on and offline is people try to read it, it’s dense/confusing/boring, they give up and feel discouraged or think they’re ‘too stupid’ for Marxist theory, when like in reality it’s a specific text intervening on a particular set of political debates in Marx’s time, and is also an origin point for a wide range of political and economic belief systems that have undergone fundamental and global developments in the nearly two centuries since its publication. Which is all to say that I think picking up Capital for the sake of simply reading Capital sets yourself up for failure, disappointment, and potentially feeling stupid/incapable of meeting the demands of your own political convictions. Which is not a good mindset for communists to be in! CLR James says that every cook can govern; Marxist theory should not be a site of personal misery and intellectual punishment. A challenging text is not the same thing as a confusing or boring one, and I think there is a lot of moralistic expectations floating around in “leftist spaces” (big quotation marks) about the development of “critical thinking skills” as this miserable slog of whipping yourself into being radical.

I call myself a communist and have not read Capital; not only are there many other works by Marx to read, not to mention the nearly infinite amounts of secondary sources that engage with Marx, it’s also not something I feel is going to answer the questions I need when I want to read theory. I am specifically reading this text because I have to be qualified to teach it and regurgitate it on an exam, which is how I’m approaching this text. I think asking yourself what your approach is (are you doing it to advance your own learning, to answer specific questions you have about Marxist theory [and what are those specific questions?], to inform your historical understanding of the development of continental economic theory, etc) will help answer some of these “philosophy of learning” questions. Maybe Capital is the place to start based on your own motivations and prior reading, but maybe it’s not. And if it’s not that’s totally fine! Marx is perhaps one of the most responded-to European political thinkers of modernity - we are engulfed in theory engaging with his ideas. You have your pick of the lot

[that-sarcastic-writer]

You Know Who To Call

Billy Russo X F!Reader

Summary: You went on a date hoping to forget him, but Billy was right there to remind you who to call

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (pls wrap it), p in v, creampie dom!Billy, Billy canonically likes it rough, possesive!Billy, protective!Billy, jealousy (both of them) choking, bit of breath play, dirty talk, language

WC: 3.5k yall are already used to it

A/N: why my horny ass decided to write this knowing damn well itll flop I've not fucking idea, all I know is that that manipulative borderline psychotic and homicidal fuck can fuck me six ways till sunday so, I wrote it. Might write more, Billy has a lot of potential. So if you're one of two people are reading this, enjoy :)

You really should’ve known better than to come to the one bar you knew he often went to. Especially when you were then with another man, on a date. But in your defense, you never talked about being exclusive. You were pretty damn sure he was fucking anyone he could get his hands on, and with a face like his, that wouldn’t be too difficult. 

Or so you thought. Billy Russo was a complicated man, and you were yet to realize just how much. 

You knew you were setting yourself up for failure the second you said yes to this man’s advances, knowing that BIlly was the only man in your mind. But you wanted to force yourself to move on, and have other options. Oh how mistaken you were. The second this man opened his mouth you were already regretting your decision. It began with him judging your choice of drink, saying something along the lines of 'I thought pretty women could only handle cheap wine' and it just went downhill from there.

You were constantly checking your phone, wishing time went faster, so you could at least say you stayed long enough to be able to leave without seeming rude. To say that your night was going to end rather disappointedly was an understatement. Maybe an hour went by when you were standing up, excusing yourself with the reason of having to be up early due to prior plans. And you thought that was it. 

“Hey, the night doesn’t have to end so soon. We can head back to my place if you just want to get out of here.” And there it was. He stood up as well, crowding you in an instant, getting all up in your space to block you from leaving.

“I really can’t. Listen,” You took a step back to give yourself some room, “You seem like a great guy, but I’m not really feeling this. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He scoffed in disbelief, his face slightly twisting with hints of anger as he stepped forward again, making you take another step back, “You led me on all night, made me buy you drinks and all you have to say is you’re sorry?”

“Listen, I wasn’t leading you on. And I didn’t ask you to buy me anything, you insisted,” You stared at him with disbelief, baffled that he would feel so entitled, “Just because I agreed to going out with you doesn’t mean you get to take me home.” 

“Well I’m getting something, you can’t just leave me like this.” 

You were already done with tonight, and you didn’t want to hear anymore of this. You simply shook your head and started to walk past him towards the exit, but he grabbed your arm with a grip so tight you audibly winced.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me you bitch.” He spat, pulling your body against his with a forceful grip on both of your arms. You groaned in distaste, turned your head away from him and shoved at his chest, but he didn’t let you go.

“Get the fuck off me.” You said loudly, tugging your arms against his grip, but his grip only tightened. You were about to start screaming when you felt a tug on your shoulder, your date letting you go so suddenly you stumbled back, right into someone’s chest. 

“Get your fuckin' hands off her.” Oh.

You were confused, not quite registering what had just happened. Your date looked both confused and angry, but not at you, but at whoever just pulled you to his chest. And you only realized when you heard the man behind you speak. You would recognize his voice anywhere. 

“Billy what—” You turned your head back to look up at him, your back still to his chest as he held your arm now. His dark eyes only met yours for just a second in acknowledgement, and oh he was pissed. He tore his eyes away from yours to look at your date, jaw tight and back straight as he stood behind you, like he was marking territory. 

“Who the fuck are you man?” You date asked, anger lacing his words, but he didn’t dare move.

“Me?” Billy grinned slightly, his head twitching ever so slightly as he moved past you, his arm brushing your shoulder as he now stood in front of you, an arm behind his back as you gripped his hand tightly, preventing him from standing any closer to your date, “I’m just the guy that's gonna drag your face across the pavement if you ever get anywhere near her again.”

“Billy.” You said softly, you knew he heard you, but he otherwise ignored you. 

Your date stood with both a shocked and angry look on his face, but he said nothing. Billy was a good half a head taller than your date, and he wasn’t a man you’d want to get into a bar fight with.

“Get the fuck outta here before I break your jaw.” You squeezed your eyes shut at Billy’s words, you knew he could get physical pretty quickly, and the last thing you needed tonight was to have to pull him out of a fist fight. 

Your date stared at Billy for a long time, but he didn’t move a muscle, like they were doing this silent macho thing, see who backed out first. And Billy wasn’t exactly a man known for backing down easily. Your date ultimately surrendered, scoffing loudly as he shook his head.

“You can have her man. I didn’t even want to fuck that whore anyway.” He mumbled under his breath as he turned to walk. But Billy definitely caught his words, and with a clench of his jaw he lunged forward, mostly likely to slam your date’s face into a table, but you held him back, tugging his hand. 

“Billy, hey.” You said his name loud enough to get his attention. He was facing you now, his hand coming to touch your face as he made sure you were okay. You said nothing, only taking a deep breath when you felt his touch. And it made you forget why you even considered sleeping with anyone else in the first place.

“C’mon,” Were the first words out of his mouth, his dark eyes locking with yours for a second before he was dragging you out of the bar by your arm. You sputtered, saying his name in protest but you never actually made any effort to stop him. He shot you a look of irritation regardless.

“Get in the car. Now.” 

“I’m not getting in your car Billy.” You argued when he stopped in front of his car. He stared at you, and you simply folded your arms over your chest, giving him a defiant look that made his eye twitch. 

He said nothing as he looked around him for a second, making sure no bystanders were walking by to get the wrong impression of what was going on. Then, he stepped forward making you back right into the side of his car, and one hand came to rest flat against the car door, trapping you between his much taller frame and his car. You took a sharp inhale when he leaned down and you jumped when his other hand grabbed the back of your neck.

“I’m not gonna say it again darlin’. Get. In the fuckin’. Car.” He emphasized every word, his nearly black eyes not once leaving your face he spoke. You swallowed hard, inhaling shakily when he forcibly moved you, his hand still on the back of your neck as he opened the passenger’s door. 

You don’t think you’ve ever moved so fast in your entire life. You were sitting in his car faster than your brain could process it. Well so much for wanting to move.

It was like you were on autopilot, you walked right into his penthouse like so many times before. Only that this time, it wasn’t exactly all fun and games. You heard Billy slam the door shut behind him. You took a deep uneven breath, preparing yourself for the screaming match that was going to ensue before you turned around to face him. He was standing in front of you in three long strides, and you’d be lying if you said that the sight of him this angry didn't make you rub your thighs together a bit.

“You know that wasn’t necessary right? I didn’t need saving, and I definitely didn’t need you to bring me to your apartment.” You spoke first, but clearly, judging by the way his face twisted, it must’ve been a mistake. 

“You shitting me? Of course it was necessary. You see the way he was grabbing you? Like he thought he owned you or somethin’.” He huffed, shaking his head at you. 

“Sound familiar?” 

He stared at you with confusion for a second, then he rolled his eyes at you, “That’s different and you know it.”

“Oh really? Tell me Billy, how is it different?” You asked rhetorically, hands on your hips and head tilted as you looked at him.

He shook his head, eyes not meeting yours now, “I just don’t know why you went out with some asshole, what were you fuckin’ thinkin’?” 

You laughed dryly, running a hand over your face in disbelief, “What was I thinking? Well I don’t know, I just wanted to have fun with someone, see someone.” You caught the way his eyes flickered over to you again, and you could see the anger begin to flicker in his eyes, so you continued, “I mean, you’ve been doing it. You’ve been fucking Dinah Madani for weeks, so I thought I would fuck someone else too.” 

Confusion and disbelief flashed over his face, his eyebrow furrowing as he ran a hand through his black strands as he tried to process the words that had just left your mouth, “What? I haven’t—” He laughed dryly and shook his head at your stupidity, “I haven’t fucked Dinah Madani. And I wasn’t gonna.” 

You stared at him for a few seconds, face twisting with confusion and your lips parted as you tried to speak, “Billy, I saw you at the bar with her last weekend, I’m not fucking stupid.”

“Yes, I had a few drinks with her a couple times, and she did some training at Anvil, but I never fucked her.” He explained, sighing with irritation like he was explaining something to a petulant child, “I just needed some information from her, that was all.” 

You didn’t even know what to say, you felt stupid, and a bit angry at yourself for acting without thinking of even asking him what had really happened. Because despite your confusing and unlabeled relationship, you had no secrets, and you told each other everything. You laughed in disbelief at yourself, leaning your face into your hand as you shook your head. Billy grinned softly, knowing he had gotten through to you. He stepped forward, pulling you to his chest by your arms. You looked up at him, lips pulled into a defeated pout that he leaned down to kiss softly. 

“We still have a problem though.” He said as he pulled back. You frowned softly.

“What?”

“That you, darlin’, need to be reminded that if you wanted to be fucked, it has to be done properly,” His hand gripped your jaw, his long fingers sprawling over your neck as he held your face, “And if you want it done properly, you call me.” 

His mouth was on yours before you could reply, his hand holding your face in place as he slipped his tongue. You whined softly as your hands found his perfectly slicked back hair, and certainly tugged it out of place. You didn’t know exactly when he hoisted you up on his waist, or when he carried you to his bedroom. But you did notice when he unceremoniously tossed you on his bed, your back hitting the mattress with a thud. You took a deep breath as you leaned on your elbows, watching as he pulled his burgundy jumper over his head, his jeans following the same fate on the floor before he was crawling over you. He crashed his lips against yours again as his hand lifted your dress over your hips. His thigh settled between your thighs and he brushed it against your clothed clit, making you gasp softly.

“Please Billy.” You said breathless, looking up at him with pleading eyes. His lips tugged into a smirk, thoroughly pleased by your begging.

“You want me to fill you up baby? Want me to fuck you into this mattess ‘til you forget how to talk to other guys?” He said into your ear, words coated with arousal as he ran a hand over your thigh, fingers squeezing your skin. 

You nodded quickly. 

“I wanna hear you say it.” 

You swallowed thickly and took a deep breath as you tried to speak, his almost black eyes staring at you so deeply that you knocked the air right out of your lungs, “Please Billy. Please fuck me, I need you.” 

The growl that rang in his throat was nearly animalistic, and he was flipping you over on your stomach in a matter of seconds. You gasped softly when your face hit the mattress and your arms were stretched out in front of you. Billy sat back on his knees behind you, one hand pulling your dress the rest of the way over your head, while the other tore your panties down your thighs. He took in the sight of you, all sprawled out in front of him, ass out and ready to let him take you as he pleased. He’d be lying if he said the sight didn’t shoot straight to his cock. 

He spat on two fingers and without a prior warning, he pressed them against you, spreading the wetness over your clit. You gasped softly, the sound slowly turning into a quiet mewl as he drew quick circles over your clit. Though the sound quickly turned into a choked out cry when two long fingers slipped into your dripping core. 

“Ooh fuck Billy,” You whimpered softly, your hands clenching the sheets as his fingers filled you. 

He took in your sounds happily as he pumped his fingers gradually quicker. He buried them knuckle deep each time he slammed them into you, your whimpers quickly turning into moans. He scissored them open with each snap of his wrist, your core soaking the palm of his hand. He could feel it too, the way your walls tightened around his fingers, the way your thighs shuddered and your toes curled. And he had you coming all over his hand the second his fingers curled against that one spot that made you see white. His fingers slowed as you shook violently, and only then he pulled his fingers out. He left you empty so suddenly you lifted your head to look at him over your shoulder. You caught him sucking on his fingers with closed eyes for a long second, and the sight made you clench around nothing. 

His eyes quickly opened to yours and he smirked as he tugged his boxer briefs down and kicked them behind him to join the rest of his clothes. He then leaned forward, taking himself in his hand as he positioned himself behind you. He rubbed the head of his cock through your folds a couple of times, coating himself in your slick. You whimpered again, your head falling forward as his name fell from your lips. He gave you a hum of acknowledgement and leaned over you, one hand pushed your head down against the mattress as the other lined up his cock at your entrance. Just as you whined at his forceful action he filled you, burying himself to the hilt with one snap of his hips. Your whine turned into a cry and your hand fisted the sheets as pleasure filled your body. 

Billy gave a breathy groan of satisfaction as your walls clenched around him. He held the back of your neck, making sure you kept your head down while the other gripped your hip, holding you perfectly in place as he drew his hips back, pulling almost all the way out before he snapped his hips forward. And again, and again until he was fucking you into the mattress, and it was anything but gentle. 

Your whines quickly turned into moans and muffled cries, and Billy always took particular note of the squeal that ripped from your throat everytime he hit that perfect spot. When it got hard to breathe, you turned your head so your cheek was pressed against the mattress instead, and Billy’s hand moved from the back of your neck to wrap around your hair. And he happily took in the pathetic sounds each of his thrusts ripped from you. 

“Sound so fuckin’ pretty makin’ all those sounds for me.” The head of his cock brushed against your g-spot and another squeal of his name left your mouth, proving his point, “You think your asshole friend woulda made you cry his name like that?”

You shook your head as much as you could, with the position you were in, but he wanted to hear you say it, so he pulled you up by your hair. 

“Say it.” 

“No! Only you can!” You probably sounded so pathetic, you knew your voice was shaking. He gave you a grunt in response as he leaned his body over yours, his chest pressed against your back and his lips found the back of your neck.

“Didn’t think so.” He sunk in his teeth, sucking and biting that one spot in your neck he knew drove you insane, the pace of his pistoning hips never faltering.

The hand on your hair moved to the front of your neck, and the one of your hip also moved to your neck. He forced your head back, both of his hands holding your throat as he leaned down, lips capturing yours into a messy kiss. You could barely keep your lips closed long enough to kiss him properly. But he kept your head in place, and a guttural moan left his mouth when you pushed back on him as he fucked you, your ass meeting his hips.

“Shit, keep fuckin’ yourself on my cock. Fuck just like that darlin’.” He hissed, his fingers digging into the column of your neck most likely to leave bruises he’d brag about in the morning. “Fuck, you’re fuckin’ stupid if you think I’d want any other pussy when yours takes my cock so well.” 

“Please, please Billy I’m—” You didn’t need to finish your sentence, he knew your body better than anyone else on this earth, he could feel the way you clenched his cock the same way you did his fingers, and he was pressing his fingers to your swollen clit in an instant. 

“Come for me, do it now.” He groaned in your ear, moving his hand to the base of your neck as he held you to his chest, his fingers on your clit moving at the same pace as his hips. 

It hit you quick, and fucking hard. You were shaking so hard you probably would have slipped right off his cock if he hadn’t been holding you. And his name fell from your lips over and over as you came all over him. And with the way your walls gripped his cock like vice, he wasn’t much further.

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” His eyes rolled into the back of his head, curses sputtering from his lips as he gave you a few more thrusts before he held you down on his cock and spilled himself deep inside you with a breathy moan. 

His head fell forward, dark strands falling over his face and eyes still closed as he held you, his quick and uneven breaths filling your ears. Your own head fell back on his shoulder, eyes also closed as you reached back and your fingers brushed over the shorter hairs on the back of his head. He gave you a quiet hum, lips pressing against your neck briefly in a nonverbal praise before he pulled himself out of you, your mixed releases dripping down your thighs. He maneuvered you both into a spooning position, him behind you and you pulled flushed against his chest. Neither of you said anything for a little while, simply laying in comfortable silence as you both fell back into normal breathing. 

“Hey,” He mumbled into your ear, and you half nodded in acknowledgement, “You know that if you ever, ever, need anythin’ you call me. No one else.”

You bit your lip, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, “Yeah.” 

“Yeah?”

You nodded, lips tugged into a sly smile, “Yeah. But y'know, I might need another reminder, just to be sure I don’t forget.” 

Billy smirked, in the back of his head wanting to take you all over again for merely suggesting it. He gripped your jaw and pressed a hard but deep kiss to your lips before saying,

“Oh trust me baby, you won’t wanna talk to anyone else after I’m done with you.”

[silentcrowsilentravens]

Hellooooo I saw your requests were open I was hoping I could get Lucas Baker (and any other resident evil characters you feel like) where their s/o (preferably gender netural) grabs their collar and kisses them??? (If this makes you uncomfortable feel free to delete this😅)

I'm feeling both Baker siblings right now.

Lucas Baker and Zoe Baker reacting to their s/o grabbing them by the collar and kissing them.

(Gender ambiguous).

Warnings: n/a

Masterlists here!

Lucas Baker

"Lu, what the hell? Now you're just cheating!"

Lucas only cackles. The old couch you're both sitting on creaks loudly as he shifts to the far end to avoid your outstretched hand, which is trying desperately to grab the controller he snatched from you moments ago.

Playing video games is often a way you find yourself spending time with him, and right now, he's trying seriously hard not to lose. Not that that's anything out of the ordinary.

"It ain't cheatin'. It's advanced strategy, darlin'!" He proclaims. There's a huge grin on his face.

You're practically on top of Lucas and you still can't reach.

'Advanced strategy, huh?' you think. Time to implement some of your own, then.

You seize him by the front of his hoodie, pulling him up and kissing him, completely catching him off guard.

Lucas' eyes widen so much that they just about pop out of his skull. It takes him a moment to return the kiss.

The first thought to briefly pass through his mind is, 'What the—?' The follow-up is a drawn-out 'Yessssss...'

He presses back into you hard, quickly bringing the kiss toward the rougher side. His hands find the collar of your own top, curling his fists into it and tugging you ever closer.

...This means your controller is now sitting freely on the couch and you can snatch it back, which you do. You pull back and quickly reclaim your win.

"Hey! You lil—! That's cheatin'!"

Zoe Baker

It's the dead of night. You and Zoe are racing through the backyard of the Baker's main house.

The rain is pouring down.

Your shoes sink deep into the muddy ground, impeding your movement.

There are more Molded wandering around than usual, and you end up narrowly avoiding a swipe from a four-legged one that was hidden in the grass.

Still, this feels like the luckiest night either of you has had in forever.

You reach the safety of the trailer first, slamming the door shut and locking it once Zoe crosses the threshold as well. The space is filled with the sound of dripping and heavy breathing.

She sets down the final ingredients you both need to create the serum. To be able to leave this nightmare together.

"We finally did it, baby," she tells you breathlessly, turning back to face you.

There's a tiredness to the smile on her face. You know this is something she's been working toward since the beginning, and that there have been many, many failures.

You can't help yourself when you grab hold of Zoe's tank top and tug her closer, pressing your lips against hers.

She slowly melts into you, inadvertently leaning most of her body weight onto you as she lets the relief take her for a moment.

Her arms loosely wrap around your neck. One hand rests on the back of your head.

This is a new beginning.

[doodles-and-dragons]

So, I’m spitballing a magic system based lightly on quantum mechanics. Here’s what I’ve written so far—it’s pretty barebones right now, so if you have any feedback or suggestions, let me know!

I’ve been thinking about one that takes inspiration from quantum physics (i.e magic basically works like schrodingers cat in which observation solidifies the outcome or state of something).

I’m gonna try to explain it through a simplified example of schrodinger’s cat; the premise is that there’s a cat in a sealed box, and in that box is a vial of radioactive material, which is connected to a device has a 50/50 chance of activating and breaking the vial open, killing the cat. Until someone opens the box and observes whether or not the vial broke and killed the cat, the cat (who is not an observer of itself, for some reason, but that’s what the original thought experiment seems to imply) is in a state of being simultaneously alive *and* dead—a state of quantum superposition.

An ordinary person can only open the box and resolve that superposition into one of its two possibilities—the cat is alive, or the cat is dead. They can’t really control which outcome they get.

A spellcaster, however, has developed the ability to observe this superposition without resolving it. They are then able to choose the desired outcome by timing when they open the box/become an observer just right (failing to time it right results in the wrong outcome and the spell failing). That’s basically how spells are cast.

Trouble is, reality is more complicated than that. What a wizard wants to happen, while theoretically possible, is often an extremely small likelihood. Part of spellcasting also involves altering the state of superposition to make an outcome more favorable and easier for the wizard to make occur. I haven’t decided how they do this, but this is how more advanced spells are cast. A lot of the times altering the likelihood of an outcome happening also tends to influence the likelihoods of other outcomes within the superposition, which is what results in catastrophic spell failures/unwanted side effects.

So, if a spellcaster wants to cast fireball, it’d be like this:

1. I want to throw a ball of fire. Right now, the likelihood of me creating a fireball is extremely low.

2. If I reach out my hand like this and recite this incantation, I can increase the likelihood of creating a fireball.

3. At this point, I can “cast” the spell by resolving the superposition at the right moment, determining the outcome. If I don’t time it right, either nothing happens or an unwanted effect happens (e.g I just make smoke, I just set my hand on fire instead of make a proper fireball, etc).

4. I could also do more actions/things to further increase the likelihood of casting a fireball. This takes longer, though.

5. I can also try and make my fireball more powerful, either by being extra careful with my timing or doing other actions to increase that likelihood. That more powerful fireball, however, can only happen if I cast a fireball at all, which makes it harder.

So a powerful spellcaster is either one who has determined practical and highly reliable rituals that allow for consistent spellcasting, or has become extremely good at timing their superposition resolution ability such that they can cast more powerful spells by doing less; the former requires more time and materials, however, and the latter is more prone to failure and unwanted outcomes. What path you go for is up to you.

In a similar vein, magical objects are ones that help increase the likelihood of a certain outcome when you use it (e.g pointing a fireball staff towards something increases the likelihood of creating and sending a fireball in a given direction, and requires less work than casting fireball yourself. Alternatively, a passive magical item just increases the likelihood of its related thing happening in general, without any input from the user).

That’s probably also why materials are sometimes consumed in spellcasting—in order to increase the likelihood of an occurrence it must also increase the likelihood of its own destruction or something.

How you get the ability to observe superposition and affect the likelihood of outcomes varies from person to person. For now, I’ll just use D&D spellcasting classes for some examples

Wizard: a wizard learns to cast spells by intense study and experimentation. With enough study, one can develop the ability to intuit superposition and how to influence its outcomes. They create spells through experimentation, or by studying the methods of others, writing down the most efficient and reliable ways to cast each spell in their spellbooks.

Sorcerer: a sorcerer is born with the intrinsic ability to see superposition, and, to some degree, passively influence probability, often through emotional states. With practice, one can learn to harness and hone these abilities to become a spellcaster.

Warlock, paladin, and cleric: these classes rely on a higher power to grant them the ability to see and control superposition, in exchange for their loyalty. These classes rely on their connection to their patrons/deities to influence outcomes and cast spells (which also means that these deities can control which spells they can cast—and why breaking an oath or pact results in the loss of the ability to spell cast, though one may sometimes retain the ability to observe superposition, just not the probability altering that their patron provided).

Again, this is all pretty rough right now, and there’s a lot of room for improvement. Hopefully it’s at least somewhat interesting!

[howtofightwrite]

Hello! I have a very particular sort of scene that I've been trying to get right for over ten years now and I can't make it work; I hope perhaps you can help.

A husband and wife duo who have Mixed Feelings about one another are trying to break out of a facility. (He was recently discovered to be a spy, she is a conscripted soldier in the facility. She was sent to escort him to execution but hesitated - I'm not sure where, in the cell, in the hall? - and - he took advantage of this hesitation? she was arrested as a traitor? - I don't know that either, yet - and they end up running through the halls together to escape)

The facility is vaguely sci-fi; think Star Wars Original Trilogy-style weapons, and there is space travel, but technology isn't... wildly advanced. Like it's not all digital and holograms and hand-wavey stuff, it's only a little more advanced than what we have available now. (Like SW OT.)

Point A is them in the cell. Point B is them on a spaceship breaking free.

I cannot get them from Point A to Point B with any kind of plausibility, or without staggering incompetence on the part of the soldiers and commanders in the facility.

They would likely be armed with only her sidearm, unless they happened to grab rifles off of further escorts sent with her?

I'm sorry this is so vague, thank you in advance for any help!

Personally, I’m of the opinion that any scene that’s been marinating in the brain for a long time (especially for years) has deeper structural/internal issues than just putting together action. Just from reading your question, I can feel the way you’ve laid this specific scenario out breaking your own suspension of disbelief. You’ve got several problems that have built up over time and, now, they’re all working against you.

Change if it’s Not Working

One of the best pieces of writing advice I ever got came from being forced to memorize my martial arts school’s Ten Steps to Mastery as part of my first test for black belt. I only remember the first five and I can’t guarantee they’re all in order.

Set a goal

Take action

Pay attention to detail

Practice, Practice, Practice

Change if it’s not working

Regardless of whether you’re practicing a front kick or writing a full length novel, flexibility is important. The more we try to force something to work, the less likely it will. Training flaws into your technique means they’ll be more difficult to correct later. So, don’t forget to stop and look at the larger picture if you feel yourself getting stuck.

Remember, change isn’t failure. Writing is a complex process and not every idea, plotline, character moment, or scene is going to work out when fit into a larger context. And that’s okay.

Outside emotional exhaustion and stress, my writer’s block kicks in when I’ve taken a wrong turn in the narrative or am avoiding a difficult emotional moment that my characters need to face before their story can progress. Something has made me/them uncomfortable and instead of facing it, I’m attempting to avoid the uncomfortable feeling by throwing some other distracting piece, usually action, in the way. I call these moments false notes. I usually hit them when I’m coming at the story from an external perspective (what have I seen other characters do in other stories/films?) rather than an internal one. (What would this character do?)

If something isn’t working, stop trying to make it work. Instead look for what you’re missing, and where the pieces aren’t connecting. It’s usually further back than the scene you’re working on.

My characters are always right. I’m either not listening or going about it the wrong way.

Food for thought.

Your Heroes are Reactively Active

We hear a lot from the writing community about the importance of Active Characters. These are characters who are doing things to move the plot forward. They make choices. They take action. Then, there are passive or, what I like to call, reactive characters. They are characters who react to things in their environment, whatever that is, but they’re not actively making choices. Passive characters get a bad rap in American storytelling tradition (more so than in the wider Western storytelling tradition.)

Passive characters really shine when working with characters who are in settings where they’re struggling to survive. In the real world, passivity is one of the best ways to survive abuse. Any victim of long term or systemic abuse can tell you that standing up and fighting back, especially in situations where you have no power or means to change your circumstances, makes the situation exponentially worse. You’ve got to gray rock it out, suppress, and survive.

Lastly, there are characters I like to call reactively active. These are characters who feel like they’re being active but are actually just reacting to actions taken by other characters. They appear a lot in YA Fantasy, but they’re everywhere. And, because these characters are always reacting to another character’s (usually the villain’s) actions and choices, they get an easy out when it comes to escaping narrative consequences for the things they do. It’s a deceptive sleight of hand used to maintain a character’s moral purity. These characters appear active on the surface, but, underneath, they’re passively reacting to the narrative events inflicted on them. They don’t take action. They respond to action with action.

Let’s get back to your scenario.

We have a husband and wife in some sort of heavily or, at least, decently fortified, military installation. The husband has been outed as a spy, put in whatever functions as a prison or holding cell within the complex, and scheduled to be executed. The wife is a loyal soldier who must now choose between her love for her husband and her love of duty.

This has the makings of some good drama.

The first obvious problem point is that these characters are trying to do too many things at once. They’re coming to terms with their deep feelings of betrayal, experiencing a last minute change of heart, making a snap decision to escape, and rapidly coming up with a plan to escape in the heat of the moment. If this feels unbelievable, it’s because it is and, even better, doubles for putting the characters in a reactive or passive state. The wife character isn’t acting, so much as she’s reacting last minute to the immediate, impending danger. That would be fine if she wasn’t also having to help carry the burden of coming up with The Plan.

There’s the surface level here, where the last minute change of heart is mimicking the kinds of behavior seen in countless other forms of media regarding escape scenes. However, this narrative decision happening in the heat of the moment is also allowing the character to skate over the emotional consequences of her own betrayal. She’s not choosing so much as she’s being forced to make a choice. And that is removing her agency.

If she makes the choice earlier, starts putting The Plan in place with the help of some friends/colleagues (even if it happens largely off page) then executes at the cell, she takes back her agency and retains her status as an active character.

The difference here is in the processing time. Characters can’t plausibly escape fortified lock up without a plan or, really, The Plan.

The Narrative Structure of Last Minute Rescues

The first problem in your scenario is that you have two characters, neither of which are doing the pre-planning legwork required to successfully execute The Plan. Rescues are like heists, they either take a village or require characters who are extremely meticulous and actively manipulating the village to fill in the gaps. (James Bond does Option 2 beautifully, but even he has a team behind him.) Usually, both happen to some degree. The burden is segregated out into different pieces for different characters. Normally, there’s at least three. The character locked up is trying to figure out a way to escape, but comes up short. The one on the outside who is putting together the pieces needed to execute the rescue/get away. And, sometimes, the one on the inside who is experiencing a change of heart, who, at the very last minute, turns heel and assists with the rescue (most often in the turn of misfortune where a piece fails and the rescue is at risk of being bungled.)

All of this additional weight/build up/expectation of the non-existent plan is being put on two characters and crammed into a single scene.

Think about the rescue of Princess Leia from the Death Star for a moment. How many characters are required to make that escape work?

Seven.

All of them. If a single character in the entire group is missing, the whole thing falls apart. Even Threepio is necessary, mostly because Artoo can’t talk. This off the cuff, by the seat of our pants rescue requires all seven characters and they still end up bungling it to kill their samurai master.

You need one to turn off the tractor beam so they can actually escape. (Doing the real work.)

You need one to figure out where the princess is being held, unlock the doors, and figure out where they are.

You need two to bullshit past the guards going in and one to pretend to be a prisoner.

You need one to bullshit past the guards a second time to save the one that can’t talk with the floor plan.

You need the princess to be the one to get them back out because she’s the only one with balls.

And none of it mattered because the escape was a trap all along.

While you don’t need these specific roles for everything, escaping from a heavily fortified facility is not a two man job. That’s where the feelings of implausibility and extreme incompetence are coming from. There aren’t enough characters helping to clear the way or be there as a safeguard for when things go wrong. This feeds into the next problem.

Soldiers, Spies, and Their Squads

We have another unintended scenario brewing at the same time. And that’s the exhausted retail employee going on a rampage and slaughtering their surprised colleagues. This really knifes your tension. By reacting to the immediate danger, the wife is not making an active, conscious choice with full knowledge of the consequences, and those consequences are killing people she knows, respects, is friends with, shares a camaraderie, or who are at least familiar to her. These other soldiers aren’t faceless goons. It’s a lot harder to pull the trigger on someone you know than someone you don’t, especially someone who has the same values that you do.

Soldiers aren’t characters who work alone. They have a squad. They’re part of a unit. They have a support network surrounding them that allows them to do their job to the best of their ability. Spies are the same way. They also have a support network which allows them to act to the best of their ability, even when it feels like they’re acting alone. Spies have handlers and they have assets, their job requires they build their own support networks so they have someone who can get into the places where they can’t. Those people may be witting or unwitting assets but they’re still there.

Both of these characters should have fairly extensive support networks to fall back on when in crisis. They’re in crisis. The crisis is both physical and emotional. Where are their people? Two characters who are social archetypes whose jobs and survival during wartime are reliant on building trust and skillful communication have no one willing to put their lives on the line to help them out? They only have each other? That’s staggering incompetence.

Spies aren’t assassins. They’re social animals. Soldiers aren’t lone wolves. They’re social animals. If there’s a structural failure here, it’s happening with your secondary characters.  Ignoring the importance of secondary characters is a mistake that a lot of new writers make and I can feel those early mistakes being carried forward in this scene. This is what Hemingway meant when he said, “kill your darlings.” If an idea isn’t working, if it’s holding you back, kill it. Look at the problem and your work from a new angle. One good line or one good scene, regardless of your emotional attachment to it, doesn’t outweigh the entire work.

Plans and Floor Plans

If you’re having trouble coming up with a character’s escape, step back and take a look at the facility itself. Whether it’s breaking in or breaking out, you, the author, need to have a clear visualization of the entire picture so you can find the weaknesses or fracture points.

Plans are easier to conceptualize when you know what the dangers are and what defenses have been put in place to prevent what your characters are attempting. Which parts of the fortress are better fortified than others? Where does this military expect to be attacked? What have they done to prevent it? What are the patrols? Who are the techs? How does the military support itself while fending off attempts to damage its resources? Who handles the supply lines?

The boring minutiae of your world is what makes it feel real. Action is dependent on your world building and this goes deeper than just their weapons. The social systems in place guide how your characters fight. It’s there in how they perceive their environment, and how they recognize usable tools. If you build a functional and consistent world, the action will take care of itself because violence is a natural response to environmental threats. Violence seeks to exploit established systems, to gain an advantage over them. If the violence is imagined separately from the environment, the violence won’t feel real because it’s not reactive and it’s not reacting to environmental stimuli. From there, it’s not logical.

Ask yourself, why do we use guns?

Then ask yourself, why do your characters use guns? What does it allow them to do that they wouldn’t be able to do otherwise? Or, what does the gun do better than other weapons that makes it the preferred choice?

The answer for the real world and your setting might be the same, and they might be different. Both will influence how the character uses their weapon. How they use their weapon guides how they fight. If you’re lost, ask yourself questions.

For example, let’s take a last look at the prison.

Prisons are built with the expectation of keeping multiple people contained for an extended period of time, preventing them from leaving in the event of an escape, and preventing those who are sympathetic from breaking in to rescue them. What have the characters in your setting (not your protagonists) done to facilitate that goal? What safeguards have been put in place to prevent someone from leaving and entering?

In the real world, prisons are built in a way that two people can’t just walk out. There are points of entry and exit that are designed to be remotely controlled from secure locations and cannot be operated or accessed on the ground. You’d need someone (like R2-D2) who can access the remote functions to get someone past the exits that they can’t open themselves.

-Michi

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[familyabolisher]

I’d love to hear more about the terrible thing at the edge of the lake! It’s really well written, and idk if i was just projecting or if you’re so skilled that you made it clear that Anthony lived his childhood as a girl without ever really saying it. Genuinely, i don’t know how you did that.

lake story commentary under the read more >:)

yeah i mean, as you say, the crux of this story is that our narrator is a trans man. i threw in a handful of clues that gestured towards the fact:

the name being the very first thing we learn about him, and the fact that he takes pride in it (& feels the need to share that pride with his "audience"). it's a chosen name; he is a pretty pretentious guy, and he wants us to see the artistry behind it. the story closes with him telling us that he "[has] been Anthony Misha Cohen ever since" he entered the lake; with what the lake represents in the story, this is him telling us that he decided to transition.

that the dead fox "made no advances" on the dead rabbit, and "thus disproved that claim to all of Nature’s predispositions being wholly ineluctable"; this is, of course, a gesture towards biological determinism. anthony points it out to us because that's what he's trying to focalise in telling this story. a lot of the piece is about agency versus inevitability, what we do and what is done to us. in the end, he chooses to act rather than be acted upon, which is how he is able to articulate his transness.

that one of the body parts thrown up by the lake is a severed breast; ha ha, top surgery, etc. looking at this more broadly, the narrative focus turning to these individual, isolated body parts ("Ought the lake to have thrown up a whole human body for my taking? It never did.") was intended to speak to a sense of alienation induced by dysphoria.

to speak a little more broadly, the story is in part about finding yourself coming into conflict with narratives of "coherence," which is to say, normativity, and (as i glossed in the second bullet point) about agency vs. subjectivity. i like to read the lake in the passage from streetcar that i referenced as representative of what lies outside the limits of heteronormativity; if you don't know, this specific passage has blanche describe the time she accidentally caused the suicide of her gay husband by revealing to him that she saw & was disgusted by his sexual relationship with another man. when he shoots himself, he becomes a 'terrible thing at the edge of the lake,' and i'm caught by his being, specifically, a 'thing'; for the rest of the play, he & his death come to metonymically stand for the essential failure of heterosexuality & sexual normativity that leads blanche to eventual ruin. he ceases to be a person and becomes a piece of metonymy; a signifier of the possibility of queerness, and the social paradigms that such a possibility threatens to rupture. this slots in well with my interest in spatial demarcation in fiction as a process of marking the boundaries of hegemony; all of streetcar takes place in one apartment, and who can and cannot live comfortably within the borders of the apartment aligns entirely with who can and cannot live comfortably within the borders of heteronormativity. compare apartment to lake; if the 'thing at the edge of the lake' is allan grey, and is therefore the possibility of queerness, then the lake itself is the repository, in a sense, for everything that sexual normativity & hegemony fundamentally cannot absorb.

& that's what anthony's lake is! ofc we're talking about transness in my story, but i'm playing around with the same essential idea of something that exists through its abjection & its absence, made sense of through its presumed impossibility. & it sets him at odds with his family, none of whom can see it. long before he can put words to what he wants, he has to live with the physical presence of the lake, & how that presence moulds his interfacing with the world even as he is the only person able to "see" it. as i said, i'm playing with the idea of spatial zones as standing in for discursive ones; the lake represents the marginalised, peripheralised forms of gender + sexuality by which sexual normativity + hegemony has to make sense of itself, and anthony lives with a heightened awareness of their existence before he has the language or the frameworks to properly recognise them. similarly, even people who cannot "see" the lake (for whom sexual normativity is naturalised such that the lake's "function" can become, in effect, background noise) can read this accidental departure from the norm into his affect.

& this idea of course brings us to the eyeball which provokes what is discursively figured as transition. i wrote this as an inversion of blanche's "I saw! You disgust me!" - when blanche "sees," queerness is no longer a distant & peripheral construction shoring up her understanding of heterosexuality without her ever having to confront it, but is instead in her immediate vicinity, and her response is to set off the chain of events that restore allan to "the edge of the lake" and to metonymic signifier. when anthony is "seen," by the lake itself, the world made possible by the lake is -- again -- no longer distant & peripheral, but immediate, and confrontational ("nothing but the water to distinguish it from me") (this is also why i referenced clare quilty, and vladimir nabokov/vivian darkbloom -- lolita doppelgangers strike a similar chord to this moment!). unlike blanche, his response to seeing and being seen is to finally admit to himself that the world represented by the "lake" is the world to which he wishes to belong. it's important that this is a conscious and deliberate choice -- throughout the story, it's always possible for anthony to remain, essentially, an unhappy girl, and to grow up into an unhappy woman. he tells us as much -- "But there were practical reasons for which I between the ages of eleven and twenty-one felt that I could not merely become that which I anticipated so fervently. If the lake were to take me—as I was certain it intended to do—I for so long committed resolutely to the idea that it had to be a happy happenstance, a fortuitous accident by which I could willingly and joyously forfeit all agency in the matter. I lasted so long in this state." anthony knows, at some level, what he is, but he spends a long time trying to make sense of it without having to act. when he is finally "seen," he acts, and this to me is a useful way of thinking about transness; not as deterministic inevitability, but as an expression of gendered agency.

i don't want to break it down sentence-by-sentence because i feel like that takes a lot of the fun out of reading it, but i hope this commentary was helpful -- i love this piece, i was dying to talk about it.

[compassionatereminders]

hey kat :]

so i feel like lately ive been pretty lonely and i think its because i had this weird situationship (if you can even call it that) with this guy and it really sucks that it didnt work out

but yea so do u have any tips to deal with loneliness? i have like one friend and i really want more people around me <3

thanks in advance !

Try to stay in touch with the people already in your life in whatever ways make sense (toxic people excluded)

Do your best to be kind to the people you randomly come across in your day to day life, if the setting allows it. A little moment of genuine connection can go a surprisingly long way

If you're thinking something kind about someone, challenge yourself to say it! Tell your coworker that her dress rocks, tell your sibling that you're proud of them, tell your friend that you love their sense of humor! Whatever comes to mind. It's good to spread joy

Show interest in the people you do meet! Most people like when someone cares to get to know them better and ask them questions, as long as it doesn't get too personal too fast

Try to be honest about who you are and what you like and what you think. Because you're looking for REAL friends, and finding people you genuinely vibe with requires showing up with authenticity and honesty

Look for online communities for people you have something important in common with. It could be anything from a fandom to a diagnosis to a hobby. Chat with some people about a common interest. See what might develop from that

But you should also look for hobbies, projects, interests and little joys that can make your alone time more fun and meaningful. There are a lot of good things you can add to your life beyond other people

And most importantly, look for a recurrent, local, in person group/event/community centered around something you care about and show up! Repeatedly! The best way to make friends is to make sure to be around approximately the same group of people often enough to actually get to know them. Because friendship takes time, and it usually doesn't happen at first sight. So put yourself in situations where you have a chance to get to know cool people slowly and genuinely. And let the process take the time it takes, even if it takes longer than you'd like.

Be patient. It's not a failure if it takes some time to build an actual friendship with someone.

And don't go around advertising loneliness and desperation. Just seek opportunities for connection and celebrate when you find them, in whatever form

But once you're feeling a connection, dare to be the one who texts first or invites them to hang out, because if you're feeling it it's likely mutual, and most people want more friends

[theambitiouswoman]

How do I let go more and stop wanting to control everything?? For example when smth unexpected happens/plans change and I already had the week planned!! I get very frustrated and stressed. Any tips on why this happens and how to stop doing this?

Thx in advance<3

Hi :)

Typically people who have a strong need to control everything to feel a sense of being out of control in their own lives. The desire for control often stems from a deep-rooted fear of uncertainty, unpredictability, or a fear of failure. By trying to control every aspect of their life, they typically believe it will minimize the chances of a negative outcome or experience. When things do not go as planned, we get incredibly upset or unmotivated.

Ironically, this constant need for control can actually create more stress and anxiety because it's impossible to control everything in life. Unexpected events, changes, and circumstances are bound to happen, and trying to resist or control them excessively can lead to frustration, disappointment, and a constant feeling of being overwhelmed.

Remember that life is full of surprises and unexpected opportunities. By being open to change, you allow yourself to experience new things and grow in ways you might not have imagined.

We can't control other people. We can only control how we react when a situation evolves into a scenario that we do not like or feel comfortable with.

Absolute control is an illusion. Life is inherently uncertain, and accepting that fact can be liberating. By embracing a more flexible you can regain a sense of empowerment and find healthier ways to navigate through life's ups and downs.

I would take a look at the situations that stress you the most. Do they involve other people? Did you prioritize your time with them over your own needs and responsibilities. When we are not living our life for ourself, and become dependent on others, we tend to pour so much into others expecting that fulfillment that when they disappoint us, we are basically left with double the stress.

We can always choose how we respond to things that are out of our control. Instead of dwelling on what you can't change, shift your focus to the aspects you have control over, such as your attitude, perspective and actions.

The smartest thing you can learn to do is learn to pivot. Learn to recognize other avenues and possibilities, that way, when something doesn't go as planned, we immediately think of what else could be done, or we can simply focus on something else. Solution minded.

Remember to not prioritize others over your own needs, and always focus on the positive. Someone cancelling on you when you are looking forward to it, or when you already rearranged your life can be frustrating. But the upside is that now it frees up your time to do something else. If it is a continuous situation with specific people, then it is best to have a conversation with them and set boundaries.

Life is a learning experience. When changes occur, take them as opportunities for personal growth. Reflect on the situation and ask yourself what you can learn from it.

[the-badger-mole]

There is, I think, a universal sense of guilt among fic writers that we feel when we find ourselves hitting a wall with a story (or two, or three). In spite of the knowledge that we aren't being paid, aren't being held to anyone's schedule but our own, it feels bad when we let a story sit for a long time. I've had several stories like this, but the one that left me feeling guiltiest was The Djinn Dilemma.

I started that story in 2012, and it was one of my most popular stories. I never intended to abandon it, but I got to a certain point, and I couldn't figure out how to move the plot forward in the direction I wanted it to go in. So, I took a break from it and worked on a different story. Then that story was finished and I tried to go back to Dilemma, but the words still wouldn't come. So, I decided to continue my break. In the meantime, I worked on other stories. I think I started and completed 7 full length, multi-chapter fics, and a lot of one-shots in the meantime, which is how I justified leaving other stories like Dilemma and a couple of others to gather dust. In the back of my mind, though, those stories just sat there expectantly, telling me that I was letting a lot of people down by not completing them (my stories get a bit megalomaniacal when they're guilt tripping me). I was still receiving occasional comments on Dilemma in particular, asking when I was going to complete it, or if I had abandoned it.

In the grand scheme, I know that completing my unfinished stories isn't end all, be all. Fanfic writing is supposed to be a fun hobby, and I guess I had put too much pressure on my incomplete stories so revisiting them just felt like wallowing in my own failure (I also tend to get dramatic when I'm guilt tripping myself). It wasn't fun. So, my stories got laid to the side while I wrote the stories that were still fun for me. Finally, though, I sat down and reopened Dilemma and suddenly, I knew exactly what was going to happen and how to get there (though, full disclosure, I'd written the ending years ago). It was fun again! And now it's finished.

What I want to share from this experience is that it's okay to step away from something and pick it back up later. If you're writing a fanfic and the prospect of a couple dozen chapters seems daunting, it's okay to set it down. The beauty of fanfic is that it's mostly for yourself. It's great when other people get enjoyment out of it, and Lord knows I love getting paid in attention and praise, but at the end of the day, it's your story that you're choosing to share with other like-minded people. There are no deadlines. There's no payment advance, no editor demanding chapters. It's just you, your imagination, and forum to post your story. It's never too late to come back and finish a story. And if your original audience has moved on, well, maybe you'll find a new one. Or maybe you'll decide you don't want to finish the story after all. Either way, it's alright. If it's not fun for you anymore, let it go until it's fun again.

[kokusfluffyhair]

Tahomaru tries to help you

⚠️ this is a dribble stemming from personal issues of being in a very dark place. Mentioning of suicide, social situation problems, depression, minor PTSD attack, poor living conditions. Read only if you're comfortable with these topics. Please do not ask me if I'm ok. I'm struggling but getting through this, and I'm using this piece to try to help myself cope, and who knows, maybe it'll help someone else too. ⚠️

Also sorry in advance for all the pics. It's a bit oversaturated

+ you have been without hot water for 6 days, with outdoor temperatures nearing freezing at night. You find yourself shivering especially on this 6th day after your heated-water-on-the-stove shower, a recent online interaction having sent you spiralling through painful memories.

+ and we won't even go into the communications with the landlord that day

+ you feel that a worthless, incapable piece of shit like yourself does not deserve any happiness or comfort. After all, you're just a lazy, psychotic human who's had so much given to you, right? Maybe your own feelings and perspectives on your struggles are not valid enough

+ you become engulfed in the memories of being isolated, pushed away, unappreciated, unwelcomed in social situations, the heavy pain in your heart and soul eating you up from the inside like a black hole to swallow you up

+ your mind can't stop. You have to keep remembering these times to validate your own incapabilities, your own failures, your own psychological struggles that prevent you from doing what for most people is normal

+ no one is there to help you. You feel so cold, both inside and outside. You wash your hands in the sinks ice cold water as you put on your skincare to try to put something normal into your life

+ how you could have used that warm, purifying shower to wrap you in its embrace. If you couldn't have a person, then you could let your skin pretend that it was feeling such soothing contact from the outside

+ you didn't want to call tahomaru. He was the only one you felt you had, but you didn't want to burden him. What if he also would invalidate you? What if he would also end up sending you both into a fight of a "my life is worse than yours" argument?

+ but you needed him now. How you hoped you wouldn't be seen as a thorn in his side. Sometimes you were afraid to communicate with him. You were starting to get clingy towards him, and whenever you got in a relationship where you really wanted the other person's friendship and attention, they would start to distance themselves from you. Right now, you couldn't bear facing tahomaru do that to you

+ you were on the last string of your rope, you felt. One more smash of pain into you and you might just end yourself

+ no, you would not do that. The risk was too great that you could end up deformed or seriously disabled. You would just maybe mentally burst. "Just" mentally burst.

+ you called tahomaru, who after hearing you weren't feeling well, immediately offered for you to come to Daigo Castle. It was always a strange experience being transported back in time and part way across the globe, but you had gotten used to it

+ tahomaru greeted you with a hug and immediately noticed how cold you were. "Y/n? What happened? You'll get sick this way" He didn't hesitate to take off his haori to put over your shoulders. He ordered mutsu and hyogo to have the staff make some hot tea and brought you to his quarters.

+ he let you change into some of his spare clothes and set up one of those heated table things idk if they were in the sengoku era or not,but they are now. Deal with it

+ you've shivered less since being with him and he has seen how bad you were feeling and did everything he could to make you comfortable

+ but tahomaru is nosy, too, so he asked you what happened. When he heard that you didn't have hot water for 6 days, his jaw dropped not like the average person in the sengoku era had hot water but tahomaru always got a heated bath so he can be like "wtf you're living how?"

+ "why didn't you come sooner? You can't keep living like this, y/n. You deserve better" He gives you some blankets to warm you up more and then decides to sit behind you and embrace you. "Stay here with me. Is this better?"

+ he's so warm and soft behind you, yet he feels strong too. It calms you a bit to feel his strong arms around you. For this moment, you feel like there is someone to fight for you

+ "i didn't want to burden you with my negativity." You hesitate to say the next part, but you do. "When I'm in a bad place, people always leave me"

+ tahomaru holds you tighter. "You mean so much to me. I would never leave you. If you're down, that means you need me more than ever. I promise. As your friend, I'll never let you be forsaken"

+ you find it hard to trust him. You're sure that one day, he'll have had enough of you

+ "y/n..." He notices everything. "Y/n, you don't trust me. Do you..."

+ "I'm afraid you'll hurt me like all the others. Yeah."

+ "I won't. I promise. You mean so much to me, and...you know, I'm lonely too." His voice gets a little sad. "We can be lonely together."

+ you hug his arms that are around you. Tahomaru gets even closer and embraces you tighter, pulling into his soft chest.

+ "I'm going to take care of you. I promise."

+ after all the heartbreak and pain you've experienced with other people, you still don't believe him, but you'll believe him for now. In this moment, he is there to support you and comfort you. Right now, that's what matters

+ when the hot tea comes, he loosens his embrace and sits next to you. He occasionally asks you if you are warm enough.

+ "stay the night. Then tomorrow, I'll go hunt something for you and cook it myself. It'll make you healthy" He's so proud of this idea he has

+ his words bring tears to your eyes. Someone like you doesn't deserve such kindness, yet you crave it from the deepest corners of your soul

+ when tahomaru sees that you're holding back tears, he looks like he is wondering if he did anything wrong. "Hey, y/n, did I make you sad?" He immediately hugs you, almost knocking over the tea

+ you shake your head as he hugs you. When you rest your chin on his shoulder, he puts his hand gently on the back of your head

+ "I'm here for you and I'm going to do my best so you feel better. You're important to me. Can you remember that you're important to me?"

+ you can only wonder for how long tahomaru would feel that about you

+ tahomaru starts to rub your back. "You mean so much to me. I'm here and I'm not leaving. I'm going to make sure you're OK, no matter what it takes"

+ he offers to play a game with you to try to get your mind off of everything that is troubling you. He wants you to know that whenever you are with him, you are safe and you are not alone. He manages to choose some silly game that makes you laugh

+ you fall asleep cuddled with tahomaru under a warm blanket, soothed by his body heat and the kindness he showed you. As long as you were with him, you were protected both physically and psychologically.

+ maybe you could stay there a few days and hope the hot water is fixed when you return

+ "y/n. I'm coming with you to make sure that thing is working properly."

+ maybe tahomaru can be a little too protective, but you appreciate it because he will stand by your side and fight with you

[rafent]

With excitement not matching the defeat she had witnessed, Alear stepped inside the medical tent. Although she had already seen his fall on the 'battlefield' mismatched eyes had their sights set on a Fell Dragon, a visit to cheer on him despite no longer taking place in the competition.

"Rafal!" Divinity chirped as she cut their distance short. From a distance she could only see when a blow landed or seemed to, but the bandages on him said enough of the possible ache they caused.

Still, she wasn't here to remind him of bruises gained.

"Seeing you fight was exciting, i couldn't help but cheer for you." She admitted. Although he was a Black Eagle she cheered for him all the same, her house winning would of course be great but she preferred supporting her friends first. Clapping as if to tell she was proud of him, Alear kept on her rambles. "You did great! Next time i'm sure you will win and i will keep on cheering for you."

There was something she wanted to ask him, although it was simple the question was an important one.

"But i'm curious. Did you enjoy yourself?"

The Fell Heir's first showing on this field had been disastrous; an utter debacle in the eyes of anyone to honor it with attention, but particularly to Rafal himself. He brooded and paced, repelling the healers with or without intention, like approaching the dragon were no less than prodding a panther impounded in a cage. Dark eyes fended off every individual save for the impervious Divine One, proven time and time again to care little for the appearances Rafal put on display. Or, in this case, truly meant.

A sharp heel turned on her, his expression remaining sour but lightening - a fact only barely perceptible. "Spare me the pleasantries, Divine One, there is no need to coat your words. This day has not seen me even remotely at my best." After all, for her brother's absence Nel would now face her opponents alone. She would advance to the higher tiers of this competition without him.

There was nothing so noteworthy about his comparative tenure out in the medical tents, in these chaste civilian hubs barren of conflict and glory. By such a turn of events he had honored neither his twin nor himself, marking the outcome unsatisfactory on two fronts. Even so, Rafal knew he could burn brighter; Rafal could show himself stronger; he was capable of more.

One hand solidified into a fist before his swollen face, a bruised and battered countenance somewhat paled of its usual intimidating mien; the menacing baritone, however, was all but perfectly preserved. "Next time, I will excise any trace of this year's failure. Anyone who stands as my foe shall be crushed without mercy."

Lost in his triumphal thoughts of conviction and blood lust and yearning, her sudden inquiry inserted a pause between them. Did he enjoy it? What a simple question matched with an even simpler answer. Others may attempt to paint over their process of thought with delusions, finding value in valueless things through puerile veneers that dressed up reality; those spelling false enjoyment in defeat on the basis of teamwork and bonds forged.

Rafal in reflection over his various injuries spoke his opinion in an instant. "Are you out of your mind? No," he deadpanned immediately. In one stead, the return of his brutal honesty; in another, he was not Griss.

[caermorrighan]

Adapting your planning system for chronic illness

It took me way too long to work this out. But we're here now and that's what counts. Here is the revelation: if you are going to set yourself any kind of targets or goals and you have a chronic illness, you should adapt your system to account for that. Particularly if your chronic illness is less predictable.

Hi, I'm Morrighan and I've suffered from migraines for most of my adult life. And yet I was way too old when I realised I should add accommodations to my planning system for those migraines.

How I set goals

I tend to plan on a number of different horizons. But today I am going to talk about my daily planning. A key part of my system is that I am attempting to build daily habits. Things like write every day, exercise every day.

I do this by planning in advance (normally a week/month depending on the project I am working on). So at some point I will go to each of the daily pages for the next week or so and add targets for exercise, and a to do line to write.

You know what doesn't work well with a daily exercise target? Agonising pain. And with writing? The severe brain fog I get in the lead up to a migraine.

Accommodations

In education there is a practice called 'accommodations'. This is where you set up different arrangements to accommodate things like neurodiversity. A student with Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) might have difficulty regulating their attention. So the school might provide a quieter space to take an exam, with less distractions. They might provide a person to prompt the student if they seem to be getting distracted.

This, and many other tools, are provided because the education environment is rarely suitable for the neurodiverse. A student with ADHD will find it challenging to concentrate for two hours in a row because their brain chemistry simply does not support it.

Do those accommodations go far enough? No. But that's a whole different conversation. What I want you to think about is - do you offer yourself that same grace?

Because I didn't.

Planning and migraine

My migraines are currently unpredictable in terms of when they occur. The only thing that is consistent is the progression - brain fog leads to pain which leads to a 'hangover'. If I catch it early enough, I can skip the pain part. But since the brain fog is the only advanced clue I get so there is no way to avoid that part.

I know, and have known for years, that migraine is one of the biggest challenges to meeting goals I set. All my plans start well, and then the migraine hits, and it all falls over.

Repeat.

I know its not my fault. I can't avoid these migraines (I know what my triggers are). But it still triggers a negativity spiral. I still view it as failing. It still is a day of 'progress' that is left blank.

And so, my solution is accommodations. Which I have also planned.

When a migraine hits I now review my tasks and remove certain items from the list. There is no point trying to do something clever during severe brain fog - I'll only have to do it again later (all the while going 'what the hell was I even thinking?'). I can't drive during brain fog - my reactions are too slow.

So I go through and mark them as done. I class them as complete.

That sounds odd. I didn't do the task. But I've realised that tracking your failures is bad. Negative consequences have a disproportionate effect on how we feel and, as detailed in Ali Abdaal's Feel Good Productivity, we are more likely to get things done when we feel good, and much less likely to if we feel bad. A small failure can very easily become a doom spiral. I missed 3 days of a target, so a 4th doesn't really matter. Or, even worse, I missed 3 days and now I need to catch up, but I don't have time, and so I can't face trying and 3 days becomes 4, 5, 6 ... 3 days missed is 3 dents to your confidence that you can do the thing. All of these add up to failure. Not because you didn't do the thing (which was probably a very minimal loss in the grand scheme of things), but because you felt so bad about it, that it actually blocked your progress.

If its a regular habit kind of task, then I just move on. If its part of a project, I'll add the task back into my backlog. Key point here - don't add it onto the next day. I've already planned the next day. I can't just add more to it and hope it will work (it won't).

As you write it, this will feel odd. But in a few weeks you'll find you can't even remember what day it was you had the migraine on unless you wrote that down.

Reframing your planning horizon

Going a step further, you also need to build those accommodations into your planning horizon. If, once or twice a month, I am going to lose 3 days for writing, then I should assume I will be unable to write on 6 days of the month. And likely, because of my life, there will be a couple of other days where I can't write. So I plan to write every day and assume I will achieve that on 20 days in a month.

I will still write the prompt down each day. Say I managed to write on 24 days. If I write on 24/20 days, I feel good. If I write on 24/30 days, I feel bad. Its the same number of days, but it can have a radical effect on my state of mind.

The goal of planning is to achieve those plans. To do that, you need to plan accommodations for the things that will derail those plans.

Depending on the symptoms, I have written down a list of changes I will make to my day. And I plan for the things that are likely to happen in advance when I look at the number of things I can do in a given time frame. It works for me by keeping me in a positive flow rather than a doom spiral. Maybe it will help other people as well.

[callsign-owl]

Unseen and Unheard

Hereford, United Kingdom - February 2019

The winter air was crisp, biting at the exposed skin on Owl’s face. Ghost stood beside him, his expression unreadable beneath the skull-patterned balaclava. Today was all about testing Owl’s stealth skills, a core component of Task Force 141’s operations and something Ghost excelled in. This particular part of the training grounds consisted of a complex maze of urban style obstacles and various mock buildings. It was designed to test even the most seasoned operators and today it came complete with cameras, traps, patrols and sentry posts.

“This isn’t just about sneaking around, *redacted*,” Ghost began. “It’s about blending in with your environment, moving without a sound, and thinking two steps ahead of your enemy. You need to become a ghost yourself—unseen, unheard, but always watching.”

Owl nodded, his expression serious. He knew the importance of stealth in the operations Task Force 141 conducted. It was often the difference between life and death, success and failure.

“Today, we’re going to run through several scenarios,” Ghost continued. “You’ll need to move through the course without being detected, complete various objectives, and avoid any traps or alarms we’ve set up. The goal is to see how you handle yourself in the shadows. Ready?”

Owl nodded again, feeling a mix of anticipation and focus settle over him. He had always been good at thinking on his feet, analyzing situations, and making quick decisions. Stealth was a skill Owl had unintentionally honed even before his time in the military. Being able to move through the world as quietly and unnoticed as possible had certainly been a handy skill growing up in a household with someone like his father. Now, it was time to put those skills to the test.

“Alright then,” Ghost said, stepping back to give Owl space. “Your first objective is simple: infiltrate that building over there”—he pointed to a mock structure on the far side of the area—“and retrieve the intel from inside without anyone being able to raise an alarm. Use your environment, keep low, and and don't get caught.”

"Got it." Owl replied and without another word, he moved forward and entered the training area. The first thing he did was take stock of his surroundings—observing the patrol patterns, the placement of cameras, and the layout of the area. He took note of potential hiding spots and obscured paths he could use to hide his movements. Then staying low, Owl began his approach. His movements were smooth and controlled, his footfalls silent against the frosty ground. He paused as a patrol passed by, holding his breath as he pressed himself against the cold cold ground hidden behind some foliage. The guard moved on, unaware of Owl’s presence, and Owl resumed his advance.

As he neared the target building, Owl spotted a camera mounted above the entrance, its lens sweeping back and forth in a slow, deliberate arc. Timing his movement perfectly, he darted forward, pressing himself flat against the wall just as the camera panned away. He knew he had only seconds before it would swing back in his direction.

Owl noticed a narrow window just above him—almost too high to reach, but just low enough that he might be able to pull himself up. He took a moment to steady his breathing before jumping up, gripping the ledge with both hands, and pulling himself up in one fluid motion. The rigorous physical training of the past weeks obviously was paying off. Not long ago there would have been no way Owl would have been able to do this. He slipped through the window and landed silently inside the building, immediately dropping into a crouch to survey his surroundings.

The room was dimly lit, filled with stacks of crates and equipment. Owl knew the intel he was after would be hidden somewhere within. Moving carefully, he searched the room, his senses heightened as he listened for any sign of movement or approaching footsteps. After a few tense minutes, he found what he was looking for—a USB stick, tucked away behind a loose wall panel. He retrieved it quickly, tucked it into his vest before moving back toward the window.

Getting out was trickier. The guards outside were more alert now, their patrols tightening as the exercise progressed. Owl waited patiently, watching their movements, and then slipped out of the building the same way he had entered—swiftly, silently, and without detection. He retraced his steps, avoiding the cameras and guards until he was clear of the building and back out of the training area. Ghost was waiting for him, his arms crossed over his chest and Owl handed over the USB stick.

Ghost took the USB stick, examining it briefly before looking back at Owl. “Not bad, *redacted*,” he said, a hint of approval in his voice.

Owl allowed himself a small, satisfied smile as Ghost's demeanor turned serious again. “We’re not done yet. This was just the warm-up.”

Owl quickly realized the real test was just beginning. Ghost gave a few commands to the soldiers that had been posted in the training area as guards and patrols, and they changed around their positions and patterns to create a more challenging situation for Owl. The next scenario was designed to push Owl to his limits, testing not only his stealth but his ability to think critically and adapt to changing situations.

As the exercises progressed, Ghost couldn’t help but be a little impressed by Owl’s performance. Owl moved with an almost predatory grace, his instincts sharp and his decision-making quick. He adapted to the new challenge with ease, finding ways to outmaneuver and outsmart the opposition without being seen. At least for the most part. The two times Owl was spotted, he swiftly neutralized the guards before they could raise an alarm.

When Owl finally returned to where Ghost was waiting, there was a look of quiet satisfaction on his face. Ghost gave a nod of approval. “Well done, *redacted*,” he said, his tone sincere. “Stealth isn’t just about moving quietly—it’s about blending into your surroundings, thinking ahead, adapting and knowing when to strike. You’ve shown you can do all of that.”

Owl nodded, feeling a sense of pride. “Thanks."

"Don’t let it go to your head, though," Ghost said, his tone firm but not unkind. "There’s always room for improvement. You did well today, but in the field, things won’t be as controlled. One mistake, and it’s not just you who pays the price."

Owl’s momentary pride was quickly tempered by Ghost’s words, though the rare acknowledgment still lingered in his mind. He wasn’t used to receiving praise—especially not from someone like Ghost, who demanded nothing short of excellence. He had always been more accustomed to criticism, to being told he wasn’t good enough, that he was a failure and a disappointment. This change was strange and Owl found himself unsure how to respond, so he opted for silence.

Ghost studied Owl for a moment, as if weighing something in his mind. Then, in his usual straightforward manner, he added, "You’ve got potential, *redacted*. But potential means nothing without the drive to keep pushing, to get better. Today was a step forward. Just make sure you keep taking those steps."

Owl met Ghost’s gaze, nodding again. “I will try.”

“Good,” Ghost replied. Then, with a final glance at the training ground, he turned and began walking back toward the barracks. “Come on, let’s get back. You’ve earned a bit of a break before we hit the next round of training.”

[theresattrpgforthat]

Theme: Star Trek Scifi

I run a Lancer game that basically set on DS9 but I was wondering if there were other games out there that focus on the interstellar exploration, political intrigue and action in a post-scarcity interstellar society.

THEME: Star Trek Scifi (Part 2!)

Hello friend! I have another recommendation post with some great Star-Trek inspired RPGS that I encourage you to check out, but here’s a few I didn’t advertise last time!

Star Journeys, by Small Wallet Studios.

Star Journeys: Go Bravely Beyond is a one-page tabletop RPG based on episodic space opera experiences like some of your favourite science fiction shows!  Grab a couple of friends and pick up a copy to play with a few dice and minimal prep.

You are an adventurer exploring the mysteries of deep space. What wonders and challenges are in store? These are the journeys of your starship so bravely go find out!

This is a very quick, very small, very lightweight one-page rpg with just enough flavour to remind you of Star Trek. It’s meant to be lighthearted, rather than exploratory, but it’s great if you want a quick pick-up game and you don’t want to drop a bunch of $$ on something you’ll only play once. There’s also a free adventure called Quick Hops if you want something extra to throw at your play group.

Federation, by Rogue Comet.

Federation is a short and sweet sci fi tabletop RPG where you boldly explore space in the final frontier. Do you like settings like Star Trek, Galaxy Quest, or Orville? This game emulates them all with a minimum of fuss. In five minutes you can read the rules and be playing the game with your friends.

This game is based on Jason Tocci's CC-BY 4.0 24XX SRD. It is by nature a simple game which requires trust in your GM. For even more information about the 24XX series of games, check out the original 2400 game by Jason Tocci. 

24XX games are descended from OSR, so I’d expect more tools available for combat in this game, but there’s more pieces in character creation that I’ve seen in other 24XX games, as well as a unique mechanic called Bonds, that encourages characters to roleplay together to help each-other in upcoming rolls. If your group picks up on this, you’ll likely get some neat roleplaying moments.

Wormholes & Warp Drive, by Wandering Pine Press.

In a galaxy filled with advanced alien societies, many work together as one in the Coalition of Interplanetary Lifeforms (COIL). The Lattice, a network of wormholes, is the key to interstellar travel and commerce. But when the flow of a rare and precious resource is cut off, COIL and the Lattice that binds it together is in peril.

As crew members of Lattice Terminus X7Z, you find yourself in a desperate situation. Isolated and critically low on supplies, you must find a way to re-stabilize the wormhole before resources are depleted. Can you find a way to save the Lattice, or will your failure seal the fate of everyone who lives and works on your station?

This is a game directly inspired by Deep Space 9, as well as Stargate, Battlestar Galactica, and Babylon 5. Space is rich, diverse, and full of life, but your dependance on certain elements of space is tenuous and there are plenty of opportunities for things to go wrong. This game is part of a larger volume of one-shot games, all of which are designed to be zero-prep, GM-less, and one-page. This would be a great one-shot for exploring a part of your current campaign that focuses on a different or specific part of the universe - especially if you replace the Wormhole with Blink Gates!

Outward Bound, by Penflower Ink. 

In this game you'll play as one of the six alien species that form the Interplanetary Union, a decentralised space-faring community based on cooperation, exploration and the sharing of knowledge. As citizens of the Union, you have arrived in the Teyn Belt, an asteroid belt permeated by a strange field of unpredictable transformative energy, called 'the Tide'. Explore the belt, find and study new anomalies and maybe even establish first contact with new alien species arriving in Teyn.

Using Four Points, quickly make a character by choosing your Species and area of expertise, then you're ready to start exploring!

This game probably has less political intrigue built into it but when it comes to exploration, you’ve got it in boatloads! The game designer also likes focusing on community and mutual care in their games, so expect a post-scarcity society in this game as well. The designer for this game is also an artist, so expect some really fantastic art inside this book as well.

[syrupspinner]

i completed Sable

im gonna compare this to so many other games dude you have no idea

when i first finished the tutorial and drove out into the sand dunes proper, i thought about hyrule field. like pretty much every other gamer born after 1999, i dont see it the same way is was seen when it was released. it was a flex - nintendo bragging about how the n64 can make a wide open field. of course theres nothing to do in it, thatd give them a chance to hide a loading zone or mask pop-in; they werent just a magician showing that there was nothing up their sleeve, they took off their shirt. this is what amazed gamers when they first left kakariko village: the sheer scope.

now its just a big, empty field. with technological advancements, thats seen as a failure in modern world design - what, you mean you couldnt be bothered to put anything here?

sable somehow managed to capture what i can only imagine was the sense of wonder players felt seeing hyrule field, but for a totally different reason. it wasnt a flex of pure technology, it was an exercise in ludonarrative! the way it gets you comfortable with exploring every nook of the ibexii village before showing you a world thats figuratively one hundred times bigger is such a fun way to pull the rug out from the player.

it could have easily been overwhelming in a negative way too, causing an "aw man, ive gotta explore all this?" reaction, but the narrative of sable being able to (instead of having to) explore sets the player up to share this outlook with her. "i get to" turning into "i have to" is the kiss of death for enjoying a game, and i think sable avoids this very well. when i got to the badlands, i didnt think "aw man, i have to climb all these rocks to get to the cartographer" i thought "oh cool, how do i climb these rocks to get to the cartographer?" because i was having fun solving an environmental puzzle.

another comparison i wanna make is to, believe it or not, Fallout. its an open secret that the fallout games are a bit lackluster when it comes to open worlds (I HAVE NOT PLAYED NEW VEGAS), but the originals had a great implementation of subtle directioning and signposting. the most famous example is right at the beginning: between your starting location and your compass's first mark, theres a town, and you need to buy a rope from that town to proceed, and thats how you get wrapped up in a major sidequest and open up a link to the rest of the world. Sable pulls the same trick for me: i was following the compass to the next major village, and i stumbled upon a weird location i couldnt really parse. i could climb a tree and pick up weird smokey seed things, but i couldnt do anything else. when i get to the town, im asked to collect beetle hides for a side quest - and that 'useless' location was called the beetle nest.

while im comparing this to bethesda games, id be remiss if i didnt mention skyrimming. its a phrase i use to describe ramming yourself up a nearly sheer cliffside to see if the physics engine lets you scale it. i did it all the time as a misguided tween playing skyrim for the first time, because i couldnt be bothered finding paths up the mountains. Sable lets you do something similar, but with more intention. the games open world design means it totally accepts you taking unintended routes. i didnt take the easiest route to the badlands village, but i still got there. allowing me to succeed in an unintended way is the mark of a wonderful open world game.

i got to eccria, and full disclosure, i had to crank my graphics settings all the way down. there were too many buildings and npcs for the game to handle. i kept getting lost in the big-ass city, too. when the investigation (side?)quest began i gave up on gathering clues because i straight up couldnt find my way to one of the suspects. i could still finish the quest is the thing, it just ended without any real satisfaction. i think thats great! part of good open-ended design is letting players end without perfectly curated satisfaction.

then i went to the shipyard. was i supposed to be there? thats a silly question to ask about an open world game. anyway, the answer is no, because i spent half an hour trying to climb a mountain for a quest i couldnt finish because i didnt have the right mask. man, this game rules.

man, i havent even talked about the art direction yet. what is there to say? im a sucker for cell shading, and this game leans into it so well! the way the colour palette changes when you go between areas is so cool, like... i cant even put it into words, its just so fun to look at. ive always considered deserts a hard place to make visually interesting, but Sable does such a great job with that

it was at this point that i started aimlessly floating around finishing up sidequests and oddjobs until the endgame. i only started noticing how glitchy the game is at this point. im not holding it against the game at all, because frankly its a miracle that any video game boots to a title screen if you know how programming works (not to say that i do) but its hard not to complain about all the times that things just... didnt load in. sometimes id crash my bike into invisible buildings, sometimes i would just despawn of my bike and have to dismount it to be visible, and one time a chum was invisible. this isnt a skill issue i watched the particles come out of nowhere

in the end, this is a wonderful game. if i had to pick one thing it does best, its the atmosphere. it puts all of its effort into making you feel like a small fish in a big desert, and i really related to my character in the world. also, i dont wanna spoil what masks you get in this game, so ill just say i picked the completionist one with the four-letter name. no its not the fuck mask, dont ask me if theres a fuck mask because im not telling you