#my honest review of this place having been several times:

[01libra]

barefoot bakery, oxford

[magics-neptunes-things]

Secret Love II

So, here we are with the second part! I don't really where I'm going with it right now to be honest, so I'm just gonna I’ll just let my imagination run wild.

Thanks for your reviews, don't hesitate leave me some, it always makes me very happy to know what you think of my writings :)

Enjoy!

P.S Part one is HERE

____________________________________________________________

A few hours after leaving your hotel room, you return there hoping to be as discreet as you were before. On tiptoe, you reach your bed and slip under the covers, your mind always with Alexia. She also went to her room, you both agreed that it was important to enjoy the last hours of sleep before dawn. While you are looking for sleep, you don't realize that Ona’s breathing is no longer as deep as when you left, indicating that she is awake.

"... going to be late!"

Ona’s voice comes to you like through a fog and you need a few blinks of eyes to finally fix your gaze on her face.

"Breakfast is in seven minutes, you know how is Vilda with late people"

Oh man. You jump of your bed, frantically searching for your clothes by making more mess than anything else. You sprint in the bathroom to wash your face and comb your hair in a messy bun, trying to get the sleep of your face.

"Ona go, don't be let yourself" you say to your roomate.

"You sure?" she asked, popping her head by the door.

"Yeah"

"Ok. Your shirt is upside down."

You swear before you put it right, jump in your sneakers and go out slamming the door of the room. Obviously the elevator doors close a few meters from you, so you decide to take the stairs. It’s a miracle you’re on time and you're not even the last one.

You spot Alexia, sitting next to Jenni and Irene, with the same fresh, rested look as if she had slept 12 hours straight. This woman, you thought, before serving you a breakfast tray and looking for a free place.

************************

"Y/N what's that?"

You turn around but Aitana had time to have a close look to the hickey Alexia made two days ago. Her loud question made everyone turn around, even if you all were supposed to be focused on your strength exercises.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, your mind racing while looking for a good excuse.

"You got a bruise on your neck"

At this point those who were furthest away turned their attention to their exercises, but you feel that the look of several of your teammates burning your back. You crossed Alexia's eyes for a second and open the mouth to talk, but another voice answers before you.

"It must have been when you fell while getting ready, the morning you were late. I thought she was gonna break her neck."

The second sentence is more for Aitana than for you, but she seems to accept this answer with even a small laugh before grabbing his dumbbell again. It's Ona's look that you cross this time and since you don’t know what to tell her, you’re starting to do your exercises again.

************************

"So, you and Alexia uh?"

You were back in your room, reading a book while listening some music. It was free time but it was so cold outside that you didn't want to go out for now. Ona had said nothing until now, even during the meal time when you found yourself sitting in front of her. Even if you knew the subject was coming at some point, you appreciate the fact that she chooses to be sure she isn’t being heard by anyone to bring the subject.

"Well... Maybe"

You can't fight back the smile on your face and your vague answer seems to be enough for your roommate.

"Who knows?" she asked.

"No one, apart from Alexia’s mother."

"Even Jenni?"

You bite your lip and shakes your head. You know Alexia want to talk about it with Jenni, she's her bestfriend after all. But you had a rule and she just get with it.

"We got together six months after I arrived in Barcelona, I had a hard time understanding what was happening the first time she tried to flirt with me."

You smile in spite of yourself, the flirting was not necessarily the strong of Alexia but you always found it touching.

"And then we broke up when we lost against Wolfsburg, she thought our relationship was what kept her from focusing on the game and the win."

You swallow with difficulty, these memories being particularly dark for both of you. But now that you’ve started talking about your story, you can’t stop. Especially since the Catalan seems to be an excellent listener.

"After that we lost the final... It was awful. I spent every second trying not to look at her, not to show anything to anyone. No one knew and they thought I was disappointed that we lost the final when I was in reality heartbroken."

Lost in your thoughts, your gaze on your hands, you notice only when you feel her presence that Ona left her bed to sit next to you. She places her hand on your arm and you look up at her smiling, which must probably seem strange to her given with what you're saying after.

"Weeks and months passed and we found ourselves training for the Euro. And you certainly don’t need me to remind you what happened with her ACL."

Ona’s grimace speaking of herself, you continue, leaning against the wall behind you.

"I wrote her several times to tell her that I was thinking about her, but she didn't answer. I didn't expect her though, I knew that she had cut contact with almost everyone. But when we were eliminated and I returned to Barcelona, I found her one time on my doormat. She was... I never saw her like that Ona. She was destroyed."

The memory of this moment gives you shivers and you shake yourself mentally to return to the present.

"I let her in and she talked about her insecurities. She told me she was supposed to be in rehab in 15 minutes, but she didn’t want to go. She felt that it was useless and that she would never play again. So I threatened to call her mother and took her there. That’s when we started seeing each other again and got back together soon after."

There was a small silence, during which Ona seemed to digest the information you had just given her. With frowns, she looks at you thoughtfully when answering.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it was this deep. And I’m sorry you both had to go through this without being able to tell anyone."

"It's in the past now. I can't talk for her but she makes me really happy. You really saved us this morning, but please keep it to yourself for now"

"I will"

She smiles and you kiss her cheek before she gets up to go to the bathroom. Thinking it's better to inform Alexia, you take your phone.

You - Can you talk?

Mi Reina ♥ - Yes, what's up?

You - Ona knows about us, I kind of just told her everything.

Mi Reina ♥ - Well she kind of cover you up this morning so it was obvious Guapa

You - Sorry if my girlfriend can't keep her lips to herself :)

Mi Reina ♥ - Touché.

Mi Reina ♥ - Can I talk to Jenni about us, since Ona knows?

You - If you want to, it's ok for me.

The next day, it didn’t take you long to realize that Alexia had spoken to Jenni. You have surprised the gaze of the striker several times, examining you with a thoughtfulness look. Every time you catch her looking at you, you were foolishly blushing and it was only when Alexia slapped her head that she stopped looking at you.

************************

Time pass and here you are, at the final of the World Cup. The more you advanced in the tournament, the harder it was to manage time for you and Alexia. But you had a few moments, thanks to Jenni and Ona who covered you a few times. You didn’t escape Jenni’s threatening conversation, based on "Hurt my best friend and you won’t see the light of the day again" but other than that she seems to have given you her blessing.

You were in the locker room once again, but this time it was the Final. You were playing against England, your last game of the tournament. You're not really listening what Vilda is saying, focused on your boots. You start the match, next to Alexia, Ona, Jenni and your others teammates. You’re stressed, you can’t wait for the game to start now.

You haven't forget the promise Alexia made this night in your hotel, but you haven't bring to topic again. Even if it doesn't happend, you couldn't be more happy.

What it seems an eternity later, you were on the fields and the referee was blowing in her whistle. You made it, you were World Champions. Tears of joy and relief invaded your eyes and you find yourself caught in a collective embrace, without really knowing who is tight against you. Cries of joy, tears and the cheering of the crowd around you seem to come from far away.

When you are able to stand up, you find yourself facing Ona who also huggs you before mumbling "I have to find Lucy". Of course she have to, not matter what is her relationship with her, they are really close.

You search for a particular person too, your eyes scanning around for pink hair. When you spot Alexia, she's on the ground and Jenni is helping her to stand up.

A bit like in a dream, you start running towards her before throwing yourself in her arms. The mix of emotion makes you feel like you’re floating when you wrap your legs around her waist and she hugs you back.

"We did it" you say, while she keeps you in her arms.

"Yes we did" she answers, with the most beautiful smile in her face.

If you weren't already madly in love with her, you'll probably fall again right now.

"So… What now?" you asked soflty after some seconds of silence you passed admiring her.

"I'm going to kiss you."

And she did, barely letting you the time to understand what she said. Keeping you in her arms, she approaches her face to yours and places her lips on yours, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Of course you hear exclamations of surprise around you, but you can’t focus on anything other than Alexia. She ends up putting you down, letting go your lips for a few seconds to catch her breath. You then kiss her a few seconds later, drawing her as close as possible.

You may have won the World Cup, but ultimately your greatest victory is her.

[ninja-muse]

2023 Reading Wrap-up

I feel like this year was pretty average in terms of my reading. Some great books, some awful books, a lot of books in the middle. And while I feel as if I kept hitting slumps, I don’t think my stats really reflect that. I kept reading and even though I didn’t hit my goal of 140 books, that’s more because I read more thick and dense books, spent more time writing, and am one year further from the direness of 2020 and 2021.

This also seems to have been the year of T. Kingfisher for me (and also Ursula Vernon). I read several of her horror novels, as well as Digger and a bunch of the ebooks she makes free for patrons, which are really easy go-tos when you want something light and right now. I was kind of surprised when I realized she was my top author because usually that’s Seanan McGuire.

And I read more ebooks in general, because why should I wait for two months for the library to get a physical book in circulation when I can wait two weeks for it to come in on Libby? I’m still trying to reserve Libby use for lighter, faster, less involved books, because I tend to end up skimming a little more and there’s something about physical paper that helps me retain info better when the text is dense.

Now, stats! Yearly total: 128, excluding rereads and picture books Queer books: 44 (34%) Authors of colour: 15 (11.7%) Books by women: 74.5 (58%) Authors outside the binary: 7.5 (5.8%) Canadian authors: 14 (10.9%) Off the TBR shelves: 39 (30.4%) Books hauled: 41 ARCs acquired: 57 ARCs unhauled: 60 DNFs: 9 Rereads: 3 Picture Books: 6

If you look at last year’s stats and the year before’s, I’m pretty much holding steady in terms of my diverse reading—a little more than a third queer, about 60% female and 10% Canadian, around 6% gender-diverse authors. I’m way down on authors of colour though, and I didn’t hit my stretch goal of 20 Canadians, so those are things I’ll have to pay attention to in the year to come. It would be nice if I could manage more queer books too, but that’s not something I’m going to try for quite as much.

Two of my reading goals for the year were to read more books from my TBR than I acquired, and to keep my ARC levels about even. Seems like I pretty much hit them! I expect that 2024 will see fewer book acquisitions because a lot of my 2023 haul was bookstore visits with my dad and we’ve now hit pretty much every store in the city. I was honestly kind of surprised that my ARC problem stands where it does. I was so sure that I was going to have at least 10 more incoming books than outgoing. Go me! My spring ARC purge really, really helped.

I did all right on the rest of my reading goals. All but one book read (The Great Cat Massacre), which was the real point of the list! I only managed to finish one StoryGraph challenge, if you don’t count my pages goal, and as always I failed to read as many classics as I wanted. I’m starting to suspect I’m not a classics person, despite my interest in history and historical fiction. If anyone has classics recs for me, let me know?

To be completely honest, though, I'm not sure I'm going to continue posting to Tumblr. I pretty much stopped updating my feed in the summer and I've felt more relaxed, both in terms of Things To Do Each Day but also in terms of my reading. When I was more active on here, I felt pressured to read diversely at all times and though I try to have a healthy spread of perspectives, I know that I generally don't and am therefore a bad person by Tumblr standards. I am curious what my mutuals have been getting up to this year so please, sound off! And let me know if you do want to see reviews and wrap-ups continue here.

(Friendly reminder that I'm ninjamuse on Storygraph and LibraryThing, if you'd like to follow me there.)

And if anyone’s interested, here are the rest of my year’s highlights:

Top Five Fiction (not ranked)

The Hollow Places - T. Kingfisher

Menewood - Nicola Griffith

Bookshops and Bonedust - Travis Baldree

A Half-Built Garden - Ruthanna Emrys

The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi - Shannon Chakraborty

Top Five Non-Fiction (not ranked)

Magisteria - Nicholas Spencer

Diary of a Misfit - Casey Parks

Evidence of Things Seen - Sarah Weinman, editor

Lay Them to Rest - Laurah Norton

Like Every Form of Love - Padma Viswanathan

Most Impressed By:

Shubeik Lubeik - Deena Mohamed

Diary of a Misfit - Casey Parks

The Hands of the Emperor by Victoria Goddard

A Half-Built Garden - Ruthanna Emrys

Most Disappointing:

Tortilla Flat - John Steinbeck

British Columbiana - Josie Teed

A Killing in Costumes - Zac Bissonette

Tauhou - Kōtuku Titihuia Nuttall

Longest Book: The Hands of the Emperor - Victoria Goddard

Best queer book: Diary of a Misfit - Casey Parks

Did I beat 2022? No. Did I beat my Best Year Ever? No. That would be 2021. Did I read more classics? Not even close. Did I read more Canadians? No. I held about steady. Did I whittle my TBR shelves down any? No. Was it a good reading year? Probably about average?

Breakdowns by month:

January February March April May June July August September October November December

[hezuart]

im really glad people are finally talking about their critiques of helluva boss on youtube instead of just praising so i wanted to say thank you for being honest!! i know some people are afraid to critique the show cuz of the fanbase n that sucks :( oh btw!! what were your thoughts on Western Energy :0?

Yeah the fandom (and the critics too honestly) have all gotten really out of hand. The fandom is very very toxic.

Since I announced in my comments section that I'm probably gonna wait until the end of Helluva Boss season 2 to review the remaining episodes for it in succession, I may as well schpeel my thoughts on Western Energy. And boy howdy do I have... a lot of them ~~~

What the f_ck. WHAT did they do to my boy Striker

Striker in Harvest Moon: A secret assassin working as a farmhand who knew Stolas was going to appear conveniently in his own isolated ring of Wrath for the Harvest Moon. (where there are imps aplenty participating in the pain games; who hate the Goetia so there would be too many people to investigate for Stolas' murder so he could get off scot-free) Striker hides in a room with an angelic sniper rifle set up a street down, where he can make a quick getaway and no one will even see him. A quick, easy, clean kill.

Striker in f_cking Western Energy: CRASHES THROUGH A WINDOW OF A PUBLIC UPSTANDING CAFE WHERE OTHER GOETIA ARE DINING and starts FIRING ANGELIC BULLETS AT RANDOM; EVERYONE CAN SEE HIS FACE, THERE ARE SEVERAL WITNESSES. He even manages to capture Stolas via rope. AND THEN FUCKING DRAGS HIM VIA HORSEBACK ALL THE WAY TO THE RING OF WRATH TO TORTURE HIM BEFORE K_LLING HIM????? FUCKING EXCUSE ME? WHO IS THIS??!!! This was completely pointless. It was padding. Time wasting. In season one, Stella was pissed that Striker didn't shoot Stolas on sight. She wanted him dead and she wanted him dead NOW for cheating on her. She was ANGRY. She was out for blood.

In this episode, Striker says Stella asked him to give Stolas the "royal treatment" which goes against what she wanted in season 1. It actually goes against what she wanted at the start of this episode too! Striker literally busts into the cafe and starts firing bullets, nearly insta-killing Stolas right then and there had he not dodged. Striker tying him up and hauling him away is so illogical. It makes no sense. Stolas should have been shot dead in that alleyway. This was pathetic. At the end of the episode, there's a huge media circus for Stolas being hospitalized which is really weird because how they hell did they know? I guess Moxie and Millie called the hospital ahead of time, but I don't think the news would spread THAT fast. If anything, its ridiculous for Stolas to call Blitz and request help. Dude wtf did these two learn nothing? Stolas has gone right back to taking advantage of the situation for his fckin knight in shining armor fantasy play. and then like, after the call, Stolas is all "Oh shit, am I in danger?" LIKE HELLO? FCKING ??? YOU JSUT DODGED ANGELIC BULLETS AT THE CAFE?! YOU KNEW IT WOULD KILL YOU! BRUH?! OF COURSE YOU'RE IN DANGER YOU KNOW YOU'RE IN DANGER WHTKASFHKRDGJLlkdg Anyway, as CONSEQUENCES for Striker attacking a high-class Goetia in a public cafe with several witnesses, the news reporters should have swarmed the place. Striker's identity should have been revealed to the world as a prime suspect for the attempted murder and kidnapping of a Goetia. Stolas would be missing and Striker would be wanted. Blitz should have seen this on tv at the hospital with Loona. That would make the most sense. It would keep the drama going. The serious tone of the episode. The news station reporters wouldn't have appeared out of nowhere at the end of the episode; we would have expected them because they've been following this story all day now.

Striker getting this whole song about he's a cruel conniving almost well-known assassin with an evil lair in the mountains as though this is a folk tale song like everyone knows about him... when he was so secretive and Millie's family didn't know he was an assassin before they hired him.... and his ........... statue of himself what the actual f_ck Striker isn't Chazz. Striker is arrogant, but he's not promiscuously arrogant. He only takes pride in his farmhand work and assassin work. Not whatever the hell.... this is. This is a gross misrepresentation of his character.

Stella in season 1 was pissed Stolas cheated on her and was so angry with rage she wanted him killed immediately. In this episode, she's like teehee yeah I hired an assassin :P like its a fcking joke? Like its a silly game to her? This wasn't a game. Andre (shortening her brother's name) talks to her about inheritance and says she will get nothing if Stolas dies; which I thought he was convincing Stella to call off the assassination because otherwise it would all go to Octavia (who apparently is of legal age to inherit everything over her mother) Because of Stella and Stolas divorced, typically, its supposed to be 50/50 regardless of inheritance of the children. Andre says Stolas' duties, possessions, and his legions will all pass to Octavia. What? Stella has never been interested in the book. Octavia is the one who seems like she was taught by her father the star spells, so yeah, probably gonna inherit the book duties. Stella apparently throws parties... she's never been seen doing actual Goetia duties though. So she probably wouldn't want his duties anyway; they'd be inconvenient for this "childish spoiled brat" Viv is ... sigh, currently trying to portray of her. Stolas already gave away most of his possessions to Blitzo 25 years ago. Granted, he probably accumulated more. But still. And legions? Excuse me? Does Stolas have an army, or are you talking about imp butlers? Those guys are cheap and aplenty. and Stella has money. She even offers Striker more money to bring Stolas back alive. As for negotiations, the only way Stella could get anything out of Stolas is if she threatened Octavia or Blitz, and I don't see her actually doing that. So I don't know wtf they think was gonna happen if Striker brought Stolas back alive. He wasn't gonna budge on shit. The Goetia inc*st is disgustingly unnecessary. Especially because Stella is treated like a dumb whining child while Andre is the one comforting and coaching her like ...... he even calls her a stupid cow....and she seems uncomfortable with his advances like what the actual hell is this. Why did we need inc*st here

Loona's voice actor lost her boyfriend to cancer... (really upsetting so sorry this happened) so Loona's voice has been missing for the past two episodes (respectfully), but you know, I actually laughed really hard at Loona this episode. It's great that she's dead quiet throughout, it wouldn't have been as funny otherwise. So hey, fun simple B plot! That being said though... while this Loona gets her shot is a funny B plot, it does not belong in this episode. We go from serious torture and fight scenes to Loona and Blitz shenanigans. The tone shifts are very wrong. This B plot should have been in a different episode. Not this one. The B plot though isn't without its nonsense, though. The lady at the desk is like "I can't read or spell" and then literally a few seconds later she CAN suddenly read. Like what? What is this dialogue? Its unfunny padding, stick to a joke. What's even more frustrating to me is that the potential social commentary is a complete miss. The hospital is in sloth and the shot wait list is 5 years. Is Viv making fun of hospitals for being slow? For why appointments have to be made several months in the future? What??? Doctors aren't lazy?! They're LITERALLY OVERWHELMED WITH CLIENTS. THEY ARE BUSTING THEIR ASSES EVERY DAY WITH PEOPLE! THEY DO NOTHING BUT WORK WORK WORK!!! Hospitals belong in the greed ring!!!!????? for the sheer ridiculous amount of charges and expenses! Especially because the medicine industry is PRIVATIZED! AND HEAVILY CAPITALIZED! Huge missed opportunity on social commentary. Disappointing.

Millie and Moxie I guess go deal with Striker because they have unfinished business which you know I guess is nice but... I feel like Blitz is usually the one to save Stolas... Moxie and Millie should have had a different set up to confront Striker, because them being put in charge defeating an assassin that almost killed not only them both but also Stolas... like why would Blitz trust them? They failed last time. He seems so unconcerned.

Also Millie puts a random hat on Moxie's head at the beginning. It's apparently a point of contention. Some random fckin guy comes up to Moxie and gets mad they're wearing the "same hat". Why the hell is the hat a point of contention?! Why isn't it just a random fashion choice for the "western energy" aesthetic the episode was going for? And Moxie actually beats the hell out of this gang?! Excuse me what? He was a damsel in distress last episode!? Moxie is a twink! It's been established he can't wrestle or fight with his fists!? Since when is he suddenly a strong badass????? What is this inconsistency!?

The tiny imp mariachi band, they're actually adorable. Love their designs despite their poor story-written Striker song. Wish I could see more of those fellas!

ALso forgot to mention, Striker has a new voice actor. Bosco does a great job. I'll miss his previous voice actor, he was so good, but you know... word is, Viv completely blew her budget on hiring him. Viv can no longer, or rather, was never really able to afford Norman Reedus. Sad to see him go, but you know... Striker isn't the same Striker from season 1 anyway. All the characters have changed in season 2. So I think its nice Norman Reedus got to voice act for the good episode time period.

Striker torturing Stolas and Stolas turning it s_xual... this is a trend Viv is doing and I don't know if she even realizes it. "Characters get tortured and make it sexual to try and weird out their captor" and "Character gets sad looking at pictures full of context that slide by the screen way too fast" are some of her favorite tropes apparently. That being said though I'm lowkey concerned. Striker breaks his fcking leg and Stolas says "Blitz is rougher in bed"? Excuse me? I know maybe there's pain play or Stolas has healing abilities and pain tolerance but like???? Is Blitz?? Fucking breaking his bones and stabbing him in bed?! JFC? What is this relationship????? I've grown very concerned. Speaking of that fav trope of Viv's, when Moxie shows up and gets choked by Striker, he smiles and says "harder" like Angel Dust did in the pilot of Hazbin. Striker recoils in disgust, LETTING HIM GO? That doesn't warrant Striker letting go?! Striker has a giant b_ner statue of himself, his entire pain game competition with Blitz- them rough housing and enjoying it-, and Stolas was talking dirty the entire time he was getting tortured. I know Moxie of all people saying this is supposed to be shocking since he's not the type to say this, but like?? Striker shouldn't have been as weirded out by this ?!

Anyway oH MY

GOD I LOVED the Millie & Moxie vs Striker fight scene holy shit its SO GOOD?! Who did the choreography?! The car flip, revealing Moxie aiming directly at Striker, Striker dodging, spinning the knife then expertly throwing it into Moxie's gun... the gun shot activating the radio in the layer, "watcha thinkin' bout now?" a perfect fitting song for the western vibe and a great beat for this fight?! Striker TAPPING HIS FOOT TO THE BEAT , AND THEN CRACKING HIS NECK WITH A DEVILISH SMIRK, PREPARING AND WAITING FOR MOXIE AND MILLIE TO MAKE THE NEXT MOVE? Spinning his dual angel GUNS?! NOW THIS IS THE STRIKER I KNOW AND LOVE! HELLO THERE SIR!

And Moxie and Millie acting like the Bonnie and Clyde duo, where Millie is the close range blades expert while Moxie is the long range gun expert, both acting as offense and defense for each other, circling around Striker , taking him on together while he takes them both on at once? Since they know he's over come them individually before, but together? Man this is.... molten gold, beautiful ...and then its ruined when the song gets changed to a crappy unfitting pop song... ..... sigh, thanks, Viv ..

Anyway back to epic fight scene... Striker shooting, back flipping away from Millie's axe... Moxie coming in for a kick and then Millie coming in to block the gun shot with her axe, protecting Moxie omygod I love this... Moxie immediately going in for the shot.... HOO THIS IS SOME GOOD SHIT

Striker's guns get cut so he grabs his lasso and slams a rock into Millie, SEPARATING the two, an excellent tactic... Striker uses his lasso and twangs off the bendy axe handle to get up onto higher ground to get the advantage- GRABBING MILLIE'S AXE WITH HIS FRICKEN TAIL??? aND HURLING IT AT HER HOLY SHIT GIRL ALMOST DIES Ey! She's not invincible, thank goodness??? Its refreshing seeing her and moxie a little bit more on par this episode. Both having weaknesses and strengths instead of Moxie always being the weak damsel in distress and Millie being the ridiculous OP wife Anyway Millie almost dies and its a wild shot, her OWN AXE almost cuts her head from her body like WOW! AND then sTRIKER AND THEN STRIEKR RRRR He snaps his fingers, sighs and tutts with disappointment, but still SMILES like a "damn it, missed... I'll get her next time" LIKE ??? THAT'S SO GOOD ?? SO IN CHARACTER? SO CHARMING? SO CHARISMATIC? I don't know why but I laughed SO HARD at Moxie screaming "YOU COWBOY PIECE OF SHIT!" It was so funny in Richard's voice, so funny and weirdly personal over cowboys lol , loved that

Striker's..... stupid ugly statue falls on him, but it's shown he's escaped.

and then Stolas is brought to the hospital; and then Moxie and Millie inform Blitz that Stolas got hurt

and the dumbest line of the episode: "He can get hurt?" YES??????????? Yes he can??? You know he can get hurt? HELLO? Why did you stop Striker???!!! Moxie knew Striker had an angelic weapon and Blitz must have been suspicious of Striker and followed him, found him ready to kill Stolas?! Even offered a deal??? A partnership to kill Stolas?! MOXIE LITERALLY STOLE STRIKER'S FCKING ANGELIC RIFLE. WHERE THE FCK DID THAT GO? DID IT BLIP OUT OF EXISTENCE? OF COURSE STOLAS CAN GET HURT SDKGJDFLKJGLDFKJLGJ BRUH

WHAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW This is like such a shocking moment to Blitz its so dumb of course he cant get hurt i swear to - sIGH

and then we have more nonsense. You know how everyone was complaining about Blitz and Stolas in the Seeing Star episode? Acting like nothing happened between them at Ozzies? Like they didnt have this weird break-up reality check? Guess what. It's "addressed". Off-screen. Via text messages. And double guess what? The text messages are empty. They say absolutely nothing.

Stolas is like "Hey I'm sorry if I did anything to upset you last night" Blitz: "Whatever" Stolas: *Long paragraph about how he noticed Blitz was upset* "Asmodeous can be very invasive in humor, but I thought it was pretty funny myself" NO HE FUCKING DIDNT? STOLAS WAS SO UNCOMFORTABLE??? Is this like a weird lie to cover up his discomfort or something stupid like ???? bruh??? "I enjoy being the subject of jest, you can come over and make fun of me"

Blitz: "sure" ????????????????? What is this????? They arent talking at all! It's just Stolas rambling worrisome nonsense and Blitz being emotionally stunted and not talking back! and then in seeing stars the texts are like "thanks for helping with Via! We don't have to bang. you can keep the book if you want. Or we can just hang out!" and blitz is like "whatever im busy" Blitz types "get better soon :(" to Stolas and Stolas is like "thank you, come visit me!" and Blitz doesn't respond.

Rose petals are slowly falling off in the background, as Stolas waits for a reply that never comes. He finally sets down his phone. I think this is supposed to be like weirdly symbolic, a "he loves me, he loves me not" and when all the petals are gone and Stolas puts down his phone, probably finally giving up his crush on Blitz realizing Blitz doesn't like him back and will probably give Blitz those crystals to get his book back. Blitz and Stolas' relationship has turned so sour and weird in season 2. It's such an unhealthy relationship. Like it wasn't great in season 1 either but season 2 the context makes it far worse. Blitz has been using this guy for decades and its just being romanticized.

Also tho..... Stolas is surrounded by get-well bouquets? Who sent these to him???? He has no friends! The Goetias think he's pathetic... the imps and lower class hate his ass..... like ... did weird rabid fans send them??? Where did these come from!! Anyway, if Stolas doesn't rant to the media that his own wife tried to have him killed, exposing the domestic drama going on in his home, I'm gonna throw a fit. This is his perfect opportunity to finalize his divorce. Sure, he could risk putting his "cheating" with Blitz into the spot light but like... people already know about that so ??? All the more proof to stack against Stella? That she's out for revenge? This is a scoop! Hell would be eating out of the palm of his hand! There's also weird compositing in this episode. Why are these scenes composited??????? These aren't dramatic serious scenes! This is the silly B plot!

Also the Striker statue falling... is just a flat png skdgjlfkgj whats going on with the budget of this episode

This ep was ridiculous. But Moxie and Millie vs Striker genuinely had me smiling and excited. I miss when this show actually had me interested....

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi mbtinotes 22yo INFJ here. I recently lost a friend (INTJ) after dating her briefly. After breaking things off, there was a lot of hurt on both sides that we weren't able to reconcile. I ended up blocking her to move on, since then have unblocked but never reached out. This loss has been eating away at me every day since and I can't stop thinking about my mistakes or feeling like a failure. At the same time, I don't think maintaining a friendship was benefitting either of us.

There was a lot of drama over how I handled the breakup, and it was messy since we both still had feelings but she no longer trusted me. I also think we were in somewhat of a codependent relationship and my thoughts about her are obsessive. I constantly wonder what she's thinking and whether or not I can "fix" things despite the damage done. I've always had self esteem issues, social anxiety, and I believe have struggled with depression for a long time.

I know I have good qualities and my friends remind me all the time, but I just don't see myself that way, and I've always struggled with dating and this falling out with my friend has put me even deeper into my issues and made me more aware of them. I still care for her a lot, but I don't know if reconciliation is possible and am afraid of repeating the cycle, and she's villainized me at this point anyway. I honestly have no idea how I'm supposed to build myself up from here.

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

The best way to have healthy self-esteem is to be a person of integrity. It means making decisions primarily from the perspective of your better self, with a view of the bigger picture (Ni). It means doing whatever is necessary to preserve every person's well-being, including your own (Fe). It is never too late to choose integrity. The sooner you choose it, the sooner you can get to a more positive place in life. The path to integrity is a lifelong process of learning how to be the person you're really meant to be.

When it comes to failure, having integrity means owning up to mistakes and learning to do better. The way is: face facts, take full responsibility for everything that was in your hands, and resolve the situation to the best of your ability.

Resolve is not the same as fix. "Fixing" is usually motivated by an egocentric desire to assuage guilt, silence regret, or unload resentment. By contrast, "resolving" should be motivated by care and empathy and a genuine desire to do what is best for everyone involved. Negative feelings must be laid to rest and everyone must be allowed to move on in the most positive way possible. Resolution can be a difficult process and might require several steps, for example:

Contrition: For the sake of learning and personal growth, do a full accounting of all the things you have done that were hurtful, harmful, or morally problematic. Make a list and review the reasons why you engaged in such behavior. Feel your remorse fully, and make a choice to forgive yourself by accepting that you are human and still have much to learn about how to make moral decisions.

Atonement: Issue a detailed and heartfelt apology to everyone who was negatively affected by your behavior. Provide an honest explanation for why you behaved poorly, without making excuses or deflecting responsibility. Ask for forgiveness, recognizing that you are not entitled to it and do not have control over whether it is granted. In your own mind, forgive others their mistakes, for the sake of your own well-being, because you do not want to keep carrying around the heavy burden of a heart poisoned by resentment, anger, or hate.

Closure: Do a full accounting of all the things you appreciate about the person and the relationship you had together, and say thank you to them. Express that you hope the negative experiences won't erase all the positive experiences you've had together. Sincerely wish them the best going forward. Grant everyone the freedom to open a new chapter of life.

Blame is always counter-productive to relationships. Since the relationship is basically beyond repair, continuing to play any kind of blame game (whether blaming yourself or her) is only going to keep you stuck in negativity. It sounds like blame was a significant factor contributing to the breakup, so it's time you learned a better way of handling painful feelings via improving your emotional intelligence. You need to get back in touch with your caring and empathetic side in order to let go of blame and leave the past behind.

You've had many opportunities to end the situation but instead chose to continue it. At some point, you have to make a decision as to whether your energy is better utilized moving backward or moving forward - you can't have it both ways. When you choose to move forward, feelings will fade as time passes, and you'll get better perspective from which to learn important lessons, lessons that will hopefully better equip you for success in future relationships.

Remember that the process of grieving a loss and healing from it cannot begin in earnest until you release yourself from the compulsion to fix and, instead, move toward full acceptance of reality.

[electronickingdomfox]

"The New Voyages 2" review

Another collection of short stories submitted by fans, similar to the first volume (which I reviewed here). This one was published in 1978, and was also edited by Marshak and Culbreath. More uneven than the first volume, but there are still some solid tales in here. It would have been better if Marshak and Culbreath had chosen other stories (ANY stories) to replace the ones written by themselves. But I guess that's the privilege of being the editors...

Some spoilers under the cut:

Surprise! (by Nichelle Nichols, Sondra Marshak and Myrna Culbreath). Nichelle is credited as one of the authors, though judging by the info in the introduction, as well as the unmistakable style, I'd guess that most of it was written by the dreaded couple, while Nichols just provided the general idea and the ending. It's Kirk's birthday, and Uhura, together with the rest of the crew, try hard to keep the party a surprise, while Kirk gets more and more annoyed in the process. The story drags too much, since the plot doesn't really have all that meat to begin with. And everyone behaves weirdly out-of-character, supposedly because it's a comedic story. I found the whole thing more silly than funny, to be honest.

Snake Pit! (by Connie Faddis) is much better. Chapel and Kirk are abducted by an alien tribe who has recently turned hostile, and ceased commerce with a nearby scientific station. The tribe has also started to kill people in sadistic rituals involving snakes. Kirk is tortured in truly Kirk-style, and put naked inside a pit full of snakes, that bite him. He'll die if he isn't given an antidote soon. Then Chapel offers the natives a bet: if she can rescue Kirk from the pit without being bitten once, they'll have to release both of them. If she fails, well... you get the idea. So Chapel jumps also naked into the pit, armed just with a knife, and battles the snakes in glorious cavewoman fashion. There's action and tension, and the opportunity to see Chapel's most badass side.

The Patient Parasites (by Russell Bates). This author wrote the TAS episode "How Sharper than a Serpent's Tooth", and this story is actually the script for another TAS episode, which got rejected. Thus, it's presented in TV script form, not as a narrative. Some crewmembers are captured by a strange machine, whose mission is to retrieve knowledge from any species out there, and bring it to its masters. Kirk and co. must find a way to weaken the machine's force field and rescue the crew, before their allotted time expires. It ends with Kirk making the machine self-destruct through the power of logic. Pretty "meh!" and generic argument. It's no surprise it was rejected as an episode, given the static scenery and lack of action.

In the Maze (by Jennifer Guttridge) turned out to be my favorite story. This is the same author of the also great "The Winged Dreamers", in the first collection. Kirk, Spock and McCoy are investigating a strange cube building, which doesn't fit that planet's culture, when Kirk disappears through a portal. Spock and McCoy follow him, but end up in a total different place of the maze. Kirk is being held in a cage by a disgusting alien, with whom he's unable to communicate, while Spock and McCoy must brave the maze and several dangers to rescue him. All part of an intelligence test by the alien. Spock and McCoy suffer a lot (specially McCoy) and embrace a lot. And they even have to fight a tentacle monster, similar to that one in the lake before Moria (from "Lord of the Rings"). It's dark, it bears a resemblance to "The Empath", and it would have made for a great episode of the series.

Cave-In (by Jane Peyton) is a strange "free texture" poem, so it's up to interpretation, and it's not entirely clear what's going on. The dialogue seems to happen between Spock and McCoy while they're trapped inside a cave, and McCoy is prodding the Vulcan about his mixed heritage. Not much to comment. I don't get this stuff.

Marginal Existence (also by Connie Faddis) has the crew investigating an eerie planet, where all the inhabitants have been placed in "sleeper chambers" and pumped up with drugs. Most of them have been dead for centuries, anyway. It all turns very sinister once automated robots, which respond to the sound of voices, start putting crewmembers inside the chambers, and piercing them with needles and tubes filled with drugs, which causes them great pain. As it's discovered later, this hedonistic society chose to live permanently under the effect of drugs, but it all backfired once the pleasure turned into pain. Poor McCoy also suffers a lot in this one, this time from too painful pleasure. Yeah. It's an interesting, a bit macabre story.

The Procrustean Petard (by Sondra Marshak and Myrna Culbreath). This one gave me actual brain damage. The awkward prose is mostly gone, at least, and replaced with supposedly witty banter (it isn't), and repetitions of the same bad pun that gives the story its title. It also takes a similar plot as "Turnabout Intruder", but turning the misogyny up to eleven. Let me explain. In the TOS episode, Lester can't be a starship captain because a law (described as "unfair") doesn't allow women to be captains. However, Lester doesn't become any better once she gets Kirk's body. She's just as deranged and tyrannical as before, no matter that she has now Kirk's muscles and hormones; that doesn't make her a better leader. And similarly, Kirk doesn't become a hysterical crybaby simply because he's now in a female body. In the end, what counts is the attitude, what is inside, and not the body in particular. This is completely subverted in this story. The Enterprise approaches a planet, which has the stupid quality of luring spaceships just to reverse the sex of everyone on-board, whether they want it or not (the point being what??). As soon as Kirk is turned into a female (not just any female; he's the same James Kirk, just with one chromosome changed), he becomes the most useless being in the universe. Nobody believes him capable of being a leader anymore, and the story proves this point time and time again. He faints in the bridge just because the ship is shaking a bit. He can't go alone anywhere. He distracts all men because he's too beautiful now. Starfleet wants to take away his command and give him a desk job. He can't even drive a shuttlecraft anymore because "oh! the controls are too big". This is a world where aliens of all shapes and sizes are accepted, but it seems that human females are still the most pathetic things in existence... Is Spock also turned into a woman? Hell no. The authors are Spock supremacists, so they spare him that indignity. Instead, the planet gives Spock an extra Y chromosome (because it does that to the strongest male on-board, of course) and this turns Spock into a super-macho, and an insufferable asshole. At once, he stops calling Kirk "Captain", since he's no longer worthy of the rank. Needless to say, everyone reverts back to their usual selves at the end, save Spock. Because super-macho Spock = good. There's also an appearance of the Klingon Kang (from "Day of the Dove"), which has lost his whole crew because they're all now useless women. No matter that in the series, Kang was married to a very capable female Science Officer... Sigh. The only one who remains more or less the same is McCoy, who doesn't see so much difference, save the purely biological, in being a woman. But I think I know what's the logic behind this. As McCoy is the most emotional of the triumvirate, the authors probably saw him as "less of a man" to begin with. Or, in their own rhetoric, as a "beta male".

The Sleeping God (by Jesco von Puttkamer). This author is an interesting case, since he's a NASA scientist, who later would help with technical details for TMP. (He's also, by his own admittance, one of the victims of Shatner's "habit of kissing men on the mouth"). This story is a bit longer than the others, and separated by chapters. A massive super-computer intelligence, called the Nagha, has conquered her own universe after millions of years, destroying every living being in her strive to become the only, supreme intelligence that exists. She's a malevolent counterpart to V'ger, even referenced as a "child" too. Which is curious since TMP wouldn't be released until 1979. Unless it's purely coincidental, it could be that Jesco knew something about the movie script beforehand, and took inspiration from it. Or it was Roddenberry who was inspired by this story instead. Anyway, the Nagha has found out how to invade the normal universe too, and is destroying planets. So Starfleet decides to wake up their ultimate weapon: a mutant with extraordinary mental powers, put in a sleeping chamber years ago. Of course, it's the Enterprise's task to carry the sleeping god and confront the Nagha. But it soon becomes apparent that the mental powers of the mutant are interfering with the crew. The plot isn't terribly original, but it's well-written and keeps the interest. A bit heavy on the technical details (as expected, given the author's background), but not to the point of being boring. McCoy keeps bitching about all the bullshit that's going on, which is fun.

After this come two short poems (Elegy for Charlie, by Antonia Vallario, and Soliloquy by Marguerite B. Thompson). I can't comment much on them, since poetry isn't my thing, sorry.

Spirk Meter: 9/10*. Not evenly distributed, but very much there.

Surprise! has Spock offering to tuck Kirk in bed, and after Kirk accepts, he becomes flustered. Spock also carries him in his arms for a minor injury (though there's a reason for it, since he's preventing him to enter the room with the surprise party). Both of them also share a chess room between their two bathrooms, and it's obvious they're going into there after taking a shower or such.

The Sleeping God has Kirk finding a naked Spock tied to a lab table, immediately running to him, and then being stripped himself and put on another table next to him. Spock keeps calling him "Jim" all the time, even when discussing mission details. Before the whole complex self-destructs, Kirk's last thoughts are for Spock to be safe.

And Soliloquy, a first-person poem about Spock, ends with the bold words: "I love you, Captain, written on my heart". Maybe I should give this book a higher score based in this line alone, but the poem is such a little thing in the scope of the book, that I don't know...

Spones also deserves an honorary mention. Cave-In has Spock and McCoy trapped in a cave and McCoy is really hot ("Hotter than you know"). Presumably because of the stuffy air inside the cave, but this is during an intense banter between both and... well, you get the idea. In the Maze has lots of love between the two, as they're both badly injured and keep comforting and healing each other. So yeah, it's like one of those episodes.

And Kirk is a bit touchy-feely with McCoy in The Patient Parasites.

*A 10 in this scale is the most obvious spirk moments in TOS. Think of the back massage, "You make me believe in miracles", or "Amok Time" for example.

[sofiiel]

Over The Hills & Far Away....

When he showed up outside waiting on you with that smile as innocent as a puppy chewing your shoe, you knew something was up.

"Let me take you out to dinner," he says with a smile, hopping into the driver's seat.

"I've been craving good diner food," Eddie confesses.

You agree, it'd been a long day and you could eat. Also, it was hard to say no to the smile stretched across his face at the moment.

Eddie pops in Corroded's newest Demo tape. "While I've got you here, give it a listen for me? I know you'll tell me the truth," he says.

It's a little rough around the edges if you were honest, but it worked surprisingly well for the vibe of the song set.

By the time you're done giving Eddie your review of the tape, you've realized....

"Eddie...where are we?" you question.

Out ahead of you is nothing but open road, and you're not sure how far back you'd left Hawkins.

Eddie chuckles, "It's Friday evening," is all he says.

"And?" you push.

"You have no place to be for two whole days."

"And?"

"And there's a great diner, um....somewhere else, over the hills and far away I guess." he reasoned.

You're left in silence, "b-but that's going to take more than two days, Eddie!" you gasp.

"You've been stressed, you need this. Look - Jeff's called your job/school. It's handled." He continued, that smile ever-growing.

"You said dinner." you sighed.

"Yeah, lots of dinners. We'll still find a diner tonight." Eddie said as he shrugged his shoulders high, "We're just going to find several more players for dinner along the way."

You watch him dumbfounded, "I didn't pack." you stammer.

"I did," Eddie reaches around his seat and pats a stuffed duffle bag.

"I picked you out good stuff." he mused with pride.

"I've been abducted by my boyfriend for a road trip," you muttered.

"Hey, hey, rescued. That's the word you're looking for, I'm bringing you back as soon as that stress runs for the hills."

"Eddie?"

He answers with his eyes on the road, "Yeah?" the grin is now stuck as he knows what is next. The reason he does half the things he does.

"I love you."

"Worth it" his mind sighs.

"I love you too, babe." he chuckles, reaching to take your hand.

[ukrfeminism]

10 minute read

Full text under cut. Trigger warning for domestic abuse, institutional misogyny, child abuse, and murder.

Laura Corkill was prepared for the birth of her son. The baby's room was newly decorated - she had even chosen the name. Leiland-James Michael Corkill was born by emergency Caesarean four days before Christmas at West Cumberland Hospital.

Mother and baby bonded straight away - Laura describes it as "perfect".  

"I remember his big bright eyes. I was happy, full of joy. I was looking forward to bringing my baby home." 

But 48 hours after he was born, Leiland-James was taken away. The midwife who had helped deliver him came to tell Laura there was a social worker at his cot about to remove him. 

Laura says she went and confronted the woman but was told paperwork had been sent to her solicitor.  "I still haven't seen any paperwork," says Laura.

Laura's world "shattered" when her son was carried away.

It was 2019, and over the following year, she would try to get him back. But just days after his first birthday, the woman - who social workers had placed him with - murdered him.

Laura Corkill has never spoken out before. She wasn't involved in the subsequent murder trial. She wasn't involved in Cumbria County Council's review into his death. She says she feels silenced. This is her story, told for the first time. 

This is also the story of what happens when social services get it wrong and when mothers who have experienced domestic abuse end up losing their children.

 When Laura fell pregnant with Leiland-James, it was a moment of hope - a time to put her troubled past behind her. She was in a good place - supported by Aishea Drysder, from Women Out West, an organisation helping women who have suffered domestic and sexual violence.  

Laura already knew what it was like to have a child removed by social services. Years earlier, she suffered domestic violence, but weeks after asking for help to remove her abusive partner from the home, her children were taken instead. Her life unravelled. 

But being pregnant with Leiland-James was different, she says.

 "I wanted to do anything and everything possible, to make sure social services didn't get their hands on this one. I was on cloud nine. I heard nothing from social services until 22 weeks."  

The first social worker, she says, appeared to be happy with the preparations made for the baby at home. "She checked everything over and went around the house. She had no problems. She could see from what she read in my previous paperwork that I've come a very long way." 

But Laura was still cautious and says she asked directly if she would be able to keep her baby. She says the woman reassured her there wasn't any reason the baby would be taken into care.

"I got the cot. I decorated [the room] in blue and white." 

Laura believes everything changed when a second social worker replaced the first. The woman  wanted  to know more about Laura's past, particularly her time with an abusive partner when her first two children were taken away from her. Laura says she was open and honest.

"My mind was in two places. I feared they were going to whip everything away, but I was determined to carry on. I thought 'they are not getting him'."

Before the birth, Laura passed several parenting assessment courses.

"I jumped through every hoop to bring Leiland-James home."  

Cumbria County Council has a different version of events and says in the last month of her pregnancy the plan was to remove Laura's son at birth. They say they told her this three times. Laura disputes this, and she says she is still waiting to see the paperwork, and that she only received confirmation when the social worker was taking her son from the hospital.

Laura's home is on the edge of Whitehaven, in a corner of an estate looking down on the town's harbour. It has a stunning view.

It's a place of extraordinary beauty but also deep deprivation. It's hard to believe now, but in the 18th Century it was a town made rich by coal, and the second-busiest port after London. Those days are long gone.  

Laura's front room is now a shrine to her children and in particular Leiland-James. 

When I meet her she is with Aishea from Women Out West and her colleague Rebecca Todd. Between them, they have more than 50 years' experience helping women who have suffered domestic and sexual violence.  

They had no idea Leiland-James was going to be taken. "The first we knew was when Laura phoned us from the ward. We were devastated," says Aishea.  Whatever the plan was, it wasn't communicated to them, they say.

Aishea says they had their own plan which would have seen Laura supported at home with the baby. After he was taken away, there were several attempts to negotiate with Cumbria County Council to bring him home.

A council spokesperson told the BBC that where there are concerns that a child's needs cannot be met, they have a duty to act and they work hard to support and inform birth parents.

Initially, Leiland-James was placed with a temporary foster carer. Laura says he was happy.

But she never stopped asking for him back.

The BBC has seen evidence that the Women Out West team supporting Laura offered social workers proposals to bring Leiland-James home. Both Aishea and Rebecca say they were not listened to. 

The council told us Laura was assessed as not being able to meet Leiland-James's needs and during his life her circumstances did not change. This is strongly denied by Laura and Women Out West.

Removing Leiland-James proved to be the start of a series of events that proved fatal. Laura, Aishea and Rebecca believe decisions were made based on Laura's past, a belief the violence she faced previously could happen again, putting her and the baby at risk.

Leiland-James was taken from his mother in hospital and placed in care. He went on to be killed by the woman who wanted to adopt him.

Laura suffered several miscarriages after experiencing severe violence at the hands of a previous partner. After one of them, as she lay in a hospital bed recovering from a blood transfusion, her two children were removed from the family home.

She says at the time she reached out to Cumbria County Council for help but had not received what she needed.

"What they didn't realise was that I may have been the victim, but I was also the protector of my older children."  

She says she "went off the rails" and suffered a mental health breakdown. She collapsed and ended up in hospital again. The next few years were hell, she says.

"I didn't want to be around any more." 

Laura says she wasn't in a relationship while pregnant with Leiland-James and was in a positive frame of mind.

 For the first few months of Leiland-James's life, Laura was able to see him at a council-run contact centre. She shows me photographs and it's striking how happy they both look. Laura would see her son four times a week, for an hour-and-a-half a day.  

"I was still expecting him to come home," she says. "The contact meant the world to me. I even asked for them to extend it to about two hours. They wouldn't do it. I didn't trust them [the social workers], but I was willing to co-operate to get Leiland back." 

But Covid cut off contact. In March 2020, as the country went into its first lockdown, she says she took two buses - an hour's journey - and turned up at the centre only to find it was closed.

For the next three months, she asked for video contact. But when she did get it, it wasn't the same.  "I just wanted to hold him," she says.  

But worse was to come. In July, the family court granted an adoption order for Leiland-James. Laura says she hadn't been told that Cumbria County Council had already identified her son for adoption and had  found  a family to place him with  months earlier.

Cumbria County Council says they told Laura in April that Leiland-James should be adopted.

Laura disputes this - and says the time she had with Leiland-James in the contact centre should have indicated she was able to look after her son. She thinks too much weight was placed on her abusive past and the assumption the baby would be at risk of future emotional harm.

"How can [social workers] come up with that when they had seen what I was like in contact with the baby?" Laura asks.

Laura also believes her lack of face-to-face contact with her son because of Covid, and the closure of the centre, was used against her. 

On 22 August 2020, Leiland-James was formally placed with a foster mother,  Laura Castle, with a view to adoption. 

Laura says she was meant to meet  Laura Castle,  as she still had parental rights, before the formal adoption. But the meeting time was constantly changed.  She says she was given excuse after excuse by social workers. "Leiland was poorly when he wasn't, or they had to work. Something always cropped up." 

Cumbria County Council says it did plan for a meeting before the adoption order was granted but everyone involved needed to be emotionally ready and the pandemic also caused difficulties.

Laura became suspicious. "I thought there's something seriously wrong. I automatically thought 'He's getting abused.'" 

She  shows me the last picture of her and her son at the contact centre. "It's precious," she says, her voice breaking. It's all she has left. She would never hold Leiland-James again.  

In January 2021, the baby was taken to hospital by ambulance. Laura Castle told emergency services he had fallen from a sofa, injuring his head, and that he was unresponsive. 

A social worker phoned Laura Corkill, but wouldn't tell her which hospital he was in.

"I was up and down all night. I just wanted to try to figure out if I could go to every hospital I could to find him. It was evil not to tell me." 

The following day, she was told Leiland-James had been moved to Alder Hey  Children's Hospital in Liverpool.

Cumbria County Council says only limited details were shared with Laura because his prospective adoptive parents were with him and the extent of the injuries were not known at the time. But the next day, when it became clear he wasn't expected to live, they rang Laura within an hour.

A taxi sent by the council was meant to take her to Liverpool, but Laura says it didn't arrive. Her support workers at Women Out West provided transport.

Laura was alone at the hospital when she arrived. She says by the time she got to his room, Leiland-James had died. By then, Laura says her son's body was evidence, a crime scene, and hospital staff would not let her touch him.

Laura says she instinctively knew his death had not been an accident. 

"I said whoever had him had killed him. The surgeon told me 'we had suspicions of this and it went into investigation as soon as Leiland-James went into the hospital'."

Pathologists would later say in court that Leiland-James's injuries had been a classic indicator of "abusive head trauma" - a replacement term for "shaken baby syndrome" - and were of the severity seen in high-speed car crashes.

If you've been affected by the issues raised in this report, details of organisations offering information and support for domestic abuse and adoption are available via BBC Action Line.

Before Leiland-James was placed in her care, Laura Castle had agreed to Cumbria County Council's zero-tolerance approach to corporal punishment.

But during her trial for the murder in May this year, it emerged she had  constantly beaten and abused the baby. In court, she was described as self-centred, abusive and violent. 

She filmed the baby in distress. In text messages she bragged to her husband how she had "leathered him" and described him as "the devil's spawn". 

In one text, she wrote: "I honestly really don't like him lately, he's an absolute moaning winge bag and I totally regret doin this [sic]. 

"Although I need to stop smacking him cos if I start, I'll not stop at one point and it's not getting us anywhere and then I feel bad."

These texts and the abuse were hidden from social workers, they had no idea this violence was taking place - but they were becoming concerned about what Laura Castle was saying to them about the boy.

The court heard a social worker had reported that Leiland-James had appeared unsettled, while another reported that Laura Castle had branded him "lazy" and "big" and said she didn't love him.   

In December 2020, what is known as a Child Looked After Review had taken place. Social workers had agreed not to support an application for Laura Castle to formally adopt Leiland-James. But when Laura Castle was told this, she said to one social worker that "Leiland-James wasn't going anywhere". 

In May this year, Laura Castle was found guilty of murder and sentenced to 18 years. Her husband, Scott Castle, was cleared of causing or allowing Leiland-James's death at the couple's home. He told the court that on the morning of the fatal attack he was in bed  asleep after working a night shift.

Laura Corkill describes the woman who killed her son as an "evil sadistic monster". But she is also angry with Cumbria County Council and says it also must bear some responsibility for his death.

"Why did they place him there? Why did it take them so long to pick up on it? They should have cancelled the adoption order." 

She also argues the council needs to offer more support to abuse victims.

The BBC has learned there are currently 26 mothers in west Cumbria, victims of domestic and sexual abuse, who are now at risk of losing their children because social workers have concerns about the impact on their children.

All of them are being supported by Women Out West. Laura Bell is what is known as the centre's McKenzie Friend - not a legal professional but someone who may support a domestic violence victim in the family court, or when dealing with children's services. 

All the 26 women she supports are required to go through child safeguarding procedures, despite being victims themselves. This is because there's an incorrect belief, she says, that these women can't keep their children safe. 

"It's a national scandal. A lot of the time, these women victims of domestic or sexual abuse make the right choice, they leave the relationship, they try to get help but end up victimised again, either by the perpetrator or by agencies meant to support them.

"Nine times out of 10, they have to make their children available for contact with the person who has abused them." 

Women Out West was founded by Rachel Holliday three years ago. She says six mothers who faced domestic and sexual abuse by partners  have revealed to her that their children were removed by Cumbria County Council and placed with their abusers. 

Some of the evidence she collected with the mothers' permission, she says, was handed over to the council more than two years ago.

"One woman had her children taken away and moved to the father, and those children are still making allegations to this day that he is putting his hands on [them].

"We have a culture of blaming women, not believing women." 

As a result, Rachel says, women and children are being put in danger.  She says her concerns have not been taken seriously by Cumbria County Council. 

"It didn't matter who we took [them] to. It was shocking nothing happened. We showed a lot of people, community leaders, but nothing changed."

The council told us when it was given the names of these women, it reviewed the allegations and some had been through its formal complaints procedures. It added that decisions to remove children from their parents - and where they should be placed - are made by the courts.

Cumbria Safeguarding Children Partnership is expected to publish a review into Leiland-James's death today. It will examine why he was placed with the Castle family and what social workers did when concerns were raised.

Laura Corkill has not been asked to be part of it. 

"I lost count of how many times I asked for my baby back. It's as though I've been wiped off the face of the earth. When he came home, it was in a wooden box," she says. 

John Readman. from Cumbria County Council, said in Leiland-James's case the family court agreed he should be placed in foster care after he was born and that Laura Corkill has been supported by her own social worker. He said Leiland-James's death "should not have happened and our condolences go to all who knew him".

A year-and-a-half after Leiland James's murder, Laura Corkill says no-one from the council has visited to her to say sorry or phoned to apologise. If he had been allowed to go home with her, she says, he would still be alive today.   

In the cemetery near Laura Corkill's home, there is a small headstone. The words "gone but never forgotten" are etched alongside Leiland-James's name and those of his living siblings - the children taken from their mother years ago. 

Here, Laura says, she can be at peace with her child. But it might have been very different. Laura says social workers wanted the body to be cremated and she had to fight to give him a burial.

"They even tried to write the eulogy," she says.  The BBC has seen a draft copy of  it sent by a social worker, which includes the words: "Leiland I am sorry I was not able to be the parent you needed."

Laura refused to read it out and wrote her own. "They tried to control me 100% but it didn't work. They tried to make me forget I was a mother, but no-one can take that away from me." 

Cumbria County Council admits it helped Laura to prepare the eulogy, but says she was left to make final decisions.

Rebecca Todd, from Women Out West, says what happened after Leiland's death was unthinkable. "It all needs to be investigated. Everyone involved with this case needs to be accountable.  

"It's important for Laura. She has been silenced and dismissed. To control a lady that can't even control her own child's funeral, where his body is, is just wrong. It's horrific." 

She says there needs to be a public inquiry outside Cumbria into the decision to remove him from mother.

Laura often sits alone at the grave contemplating what could have been - Leiland-James would be at nursery now. She says it's also the place where no-one can control her time with her son.

"I've spent more time with Leiland in death than in life. He's home now. I loved him - all I wanted was to be a proper mother."

[krikeymate]

I have read through your entire Foster This Love tag and my only regret is that I stumbled upon it just before bedtime

Here's a thing I'd like to see:

The first time Tara sees Sam get mad (like really, truly, teeth bared white knuckled someones about to get it mad) it's not at her but it is for her

i.e. someone upset Tara and Sam goes 100% Mama Hyena on them

I am so sorry for your pain lmao.

That is such a difficult request because there are so many possibilities. How do I choose? Argh. It's gotta be a bad experience with a social worker, right? Here's how Tara learns that Sam loves her.

Tara's been with Sam a year when they have a 'review'. This is someone new, someone Tara doesn't know. It immediately sets her on edge. They talk about her progress... or well, lack of it. How she still can't read or write, how she's not in school, about the meltdowns she's had at the therapist's office. The time she had to be hospitalised because she had a severe anxiety attack that set off her asthma.

He doesn't sound happy, and he sits there with a frown on his face. It makes Tara want to hide. But something tells her that would be bad. And the soshul worker doesn't want bad, they want to see good. Sam tries to object, to tell him about the progress Tara has made, about Sidney and what she thinks, but he won't let her speak, he keeps interrupting her.

Tara sits there quietly, fidgeting beside Sam on the couch. She wants to crawl into Sam's lap and hide there, but the man had taken one look at Tara clinging to Sam's leg when he arrived and said "isn't she a little too old to be hiding behind you like a child?" Sam had said Tara is a child and put an arm around her shoulder, but Tara's stomach had begun to twist, and the touch suddenly became too much. She'd needed space.

Then he says he wants to talk to Tara alone, and that's when she begins to shake her head, overwhelmed. She doesn't want to talk to this man, she doesn't like him, he's mean and she wants Sam to stay. Sam tells him no, and he doesn't like that.

He stands suddenly, and it makes Tara jump, slipping from the couch herself and taking a few steps back.

"Well Ms Carpenter, to be quite honest, I'm not very impressed by what I've seen here today." There's something in his voice that makes Tara think he's enjoying what he's saying, even if there's a frown on his face. "The girl was-" "Her name is Tara," Sam interrupts, standing herself.

"Tara, was placed with you because you were her sister, and it was determined that perhaps that would be what's best for her... despite the obvious... concerns. Clearly, it was a mistake to overlook them."

"What the hell does that mean?!" Sam demands, raising her voice.

"It means," he says, sighing, "that Tara will clearly be better off elsewhere. You're not equipped to take care of her in the way she needs. I see no evidence of-"

"NO!" Tara finally finds her voice, the words he's saying registering in her brain. "No no no." Her hands begin to shake and she bolts forward to push at his legs. "GO AWAY," she cries, sobs choking in her throat. He has to go away, to leave them alone. Tara belongs with Sam and now he wants to take her away.

Sam pulls Tara back with hands on her shoulders, telling her it's ok and breathe, sweet girl. The social worker is less than impressed.

"Is this the kind of unacceptable behaviour you've been encouraging?!" he rants, "I will be-"

"You will be leaving," Sam demands, pushing Tara behind her. The girl buries her face in Sam's side. "The only unacceptable behaviour here is yours!"

He begins to argue back, insulting her, insulting Tara. Sam's hands form into knuckles, skin tight from the force of her grip. Sam almost takes a step forward to push him back herself, stopped only by Tara's grip on her leg. She reaches a hand back as she feels Tara begin to hiccup through her cries.

"You came in here with your mind already made up," Sam states, voice unsteady. She's trying to calm herself down. "I love Tara and I am the best damn thing for her, and if you think I'm just going to let you try and take her away when all it will do is hurt her, if you think I'm going to just let you stand there and try to say that none of this is good enough, you've got another thing coming!"

Sam turns, jaw tight with anger, and picks Tara up in her arms. "It's time for you to leave, and your office will certainly be hearing from me. You know where the door is."

[blood-darkened-moon]

Isolation

Ok, the first chapter of my Alexia Ashford fic. Again, I would appreciate short reviews on whether it is worth continuing or not. I'm not mad if you say it sucks. I just want an honest opinion.

______________________________________________

Chapter 1

December 12

What do you actually write in a diary? I guess I just write whatever comes into my mind.

My name is Samantha Blair, and I’ve been stationed at the Aurora Research Facility for about a month now. This place will be my home for roughly the next 11 months. I graduated two years ago with a PhD in chemistry. This is my new job. It wasn’t easy to get it. After all, there are only a few positions available in this facility. There are 12 of us in total, and my job is to analyze ice and soil samples. It’s summer here at the moment. The sun doesn’t set this close to the South Pole any more, and at night it only gets a bit dusky, which, admittedly, bothers me more than I thought it would. Doug* gave me this journal “so I won’t lose track of time.” I wonder if that will help. At least I can try.

*Douglas Garry, station leader

December 13

Nothing interesting. After breakfast, I set about sorting the samples from the last research team and finding out which of them still needed to be analyzed and which didn’t. So the same thing I’ve been doing for over a week now. What were they thinking? “We’ll be gone soon anyway, let the next team take care of it?” After me, the deluge. Typical. Half of the samples are not properly labeled, and even for those that are, it takes forever to find out what has already been done with them. It’s all in the lab books, my ass. I can hardly do anything with the cryptic notes there if I manage to decipher the handwriting at all. On top of that, I have to pick the measurement data out of disorganized piles of paper. It was all planned differently. They were actually supposed to measure their own stuff, but towards the end of their stay, one device after another broke down. The devices are working again. Now, we’re supposed to carry out these measurements first and send them the results.

December 14

Sorting samples, searching for corresponding measurement data. Nothing new. Jeff gave me a new drill core. At least I was able to take a few measurements today.

*Jeffrey Norris, geologist

December 15

As I was going about my usual business, John* arrived and said that we were going to be hit by a heavy snowstorm in the next few days. According to the weather data, the storm will last for several days, maybe even weeks. We have to prepare the station. So we spent the whole day outside moving equipment into storage rooms or fixating it. I’m still freezing.

*John Bennings, meteorologist

December 16

Dark clouds have gathered. After so many days of sunshine, the darkness, if you can call it that, is a welcome change.

December 17

It’s been snowing since last night, and the snowfall is getting heavier, although it will be another 2-3 days before it really starts. David* expressed concerns about the dogs, but Marcus** said they don’t mind the little bit of snow. Quite the opposite. Huskies love this weather. Marcus looks after the dogs. He will know best. When I think about it, it occurs to me that we are probably one of the only stations left that still uses dog sleds. We also have snowmobiles, but Marcus always says the dogs are more reliable.

Later, we decided who should clear the paths and when. The work should continue if possible. However, if the storm gets too bad, the research buildings will remain closed until it subsides.

*David Palmer, technical chief

**Marcus Clark, responsible for the dogs, thermal engineering, welding work

December 18

The howling of the wind gets stronger and stronger. Eerie. I have hardly slept a wink. At least I’m slowly making progress with the samples.

December 19

I spent half the day clearing paths. It is a Sisyphean task. As soon as I was finished, I had to start all over because everything was covered in snow again. And the worst is yet to come. If it goes on like this, I can forget about work for a while.

December 20

Jeff was on clearing duty today. He also said there was no point. After dinner, we agreed that we would only clear the paths to the important buildings, everything else would have to wait until the storm subsided. At least the dogs are having fun. And Lena. She built a giant snowman. Lena Fuchs is still a student and the youngest of our team, and you can tell. When I see her so carefree, I sometimes think I’m getting old...

The fact that Lena is here is not a matter of course. Normally, students are not accepted for research stays. However, Lena has excellent grades, so she was selected regardless of the usual rules. At least, that’s the official reason. For those who believe it. Her father just happens to have a lot of political influence and a ton of money. It would be a true miracle if he hadn’t set the whole thing up.

She’s supposed to help me with the measurements, but that will have to wait until the samples are sorted and the storm calmed down. In the first few weeks, however, I had already shown her how to operate the measurement devices. To pass the time, I’ve now given her a pile of papers to read.

December 21

We have a visitor. The last thing you expect at the South Pole in the middle of a snowstorm is a visitor. Her name is Veronica Edwards. She is British and works at the Umbrella facility nearby. She says she is a senior researcher. There’s been a virus outbreak. She hasn’t said what kind of virus it is, only that it’s not airborne and that the likelihood of her being infected is low. In general, she kept a rather low profile. However, she said that under the circumstances she cannot stay in the Umbrella facility. If she is infected with something, we can’t let her roam around freely, but not helping her is not an option either, so we put her in quarantine. Actually, that was her suggestion. Isaac* has prepared a room in the northeast storage building for the purpose. She waited in the snowmobile she came in. The building is quite large, and it also has a shower room and restrooms. Additionally, the supply in the northeastern storage building is largely separated from the other buildings, and we can lock an area from the outside. That could work. It was supposed to be modified into another research building this summer, but the modification has been postponed for another year or so. However, it has already been largely emptied. She said two weeks of quarantine would be enough. For the time being, only Isaac and Harry** will look after her. Isaac is our doctor. Harry has volunteered. They will stay away from the rest of us to minimize the risk of a virus outbreak during that time. In case of an emergency, they have walkie-talkies.

We have offered to contact Umbrella and tell them what happened, but Dr. Edwards said she had done that before she left the Umbrella facility. They’ll send people as soon as the storm subsides. If they’re taking so long, that must mean it’s not that bad, right? Or that it’s already too late, and there’s nothing they can do anyway. Shit. We’re not prepared for incidents like this.

* Dr. Isaac Copper physician, and by necessity veterinarian

** Harold Childs vehicle mechanic

December 21 Addendum I

I have to distract myself from the thought that the woman might have infected us all with some deadly virus. And I forgot to write that our new arrival is rather strange. She was at least wearing a jacket, but underneath, she had only put on a long purple dress, high-heeled shoes, and white velvet gloves. The clothes looked anything but cheap. She looked more like she wanted to go to a gala than work in a research laboratory. Who walks around like that in Antarctica? Well, maybe she wasn’t on duty when the outbreak happened. That would also explain why she managed to escape and, according to her own statement, is probably not infected. But even as casual wear, her outfit looks pretty bizarre in a place like this.

She had to wait quite a long time in the snowmobile until the provisional quarantine was ready. Wasn’t she cold in her thin clothes? She didn’t complain. And I couldn’t see any signs that she was freezing either. Admittedly, I kept a safe distance. Speaking of snowmobiles, judging by the tracks, she was driving as if she was drunk and almost crashed into one of the buildings. Can she just not drive, or are these signs that she’s not feeling well? A fever, perhaps?

Also, I remembered Doug mentioning in the first or second week that Umbrella isn’t even doing research at the facility anymore. It’s supposed to be a materials storage facility or something like that. Well, Dr. Edwards claims she is a researcher there. I’ll ask Doug about the facility again when I get a chance.

December 21 Addendum II

Nicky*** wanted to contact AAD and ask how we should proceed with Dr. Edwards. However, due to the storm, there is currently no way through with our communication system. Always at the best possible time, of course! At least it’s not broken. Nicky has checked it. In a few days, the storm should ease a little, although not stop. She’ll try again then. Until then, we’re on our own. As old as the communication system is, I’m not surprised that it doesn’t work currently. It probably dates back to when the station was founded in the 70s.

***Nicole Windows, telecommunications, electronics, computers

AAD = Australian Antarctic Division

[yourfavsspotifywrapped]

a deeply honest review of the tortured poets department

okay, so i will take this moment to preface that i am not a professional music journalist or anything like that--i'm just very interested in music, and i've grown up with taylor swift for quite a long time. i would also like to say that i think she is capable of making quite good art and that she is an exceptional songwriter, especially for someone who frequently writes alone or with a team of 1-3 close professional friends.

to be totally honest, this album is mediocre. i've seen a lot of blind swiftie praise for it (as per usual) and a whole lot of hate from people who don't seem like they've listened to more than one song (also pretty typical), and i just don't find either to be warranted. it's boring.

though it was perhaps emotionally difficult to parse through, nothing about this album feels like it was challenging for swift to write on a technical or skill-based level. she relies on her old songwriting tricks, which i think can be a good place to start, but nearly all of the tracks on this one feel like second drafts at best rather than songs that were poured over for weeks before she was happy with them.

there are also just. so many corny moments, beginning at the track titles. they lack the maturity that i was expecting from this album. i'm not one of those people who thinks work that claims to be "poetic" has to have an indie-ish sound to it by any means, but i think the lyrics themselves have to have a certain depth and richness to them. i've seen arguments that this sort of corniness in combination with the concept of poetry is sarcastic on swift's part, but even if that's true, it still feels like that just doesn't work or excuse mediocre and cringeworthy lyricism. which is certainly not all that's on this album, but it's there enough that it greatly takes away from my experience.

she also relies too heavily on longtime producer jack antonoff, who can't seem to do anything new or interesting with her work at this point in their collaboration. midnights felt like they just camped out in a studio together for 2 weeks and went "yessss that's so fire" at each other with no outside influence, and this feels the same way except they invited aaron dessner for the latter half and he did what he could to salvage it. the end result is a mix between 1989 2 and evermore 2. i truly feel like she needs someone in that studio with her who hates her to push her to reach something new creatively.

that being said, there are things i liked about it:

-i always enjoy the way swift incorporates turns of phrase and flips them on their heads, which is something she seems to love to do, and this album is full of that kind of wordplay (some of it stronger than others).

-i like the features she picked a lot more than i was expecting to, especially post malone. fortnight is an excellent title track, and he blends so seamlessly into the background.

-there is a lot of religious imagery that is a thread that runs throughout the album (one that is even stronger in the songs i specifically like).

-though many of her tongue-in-cheek moments fall exceptionally flat, several of them work quite well (for example, "is that a bad thing to say in a song?" from florida!!! or "lights camera bitch smile" from icdiwabh).

ultimately, i would say that i think this is a mixed bag album that could've been about 15 tracks shorter. it's not her worst work, and it's not a bad pop album, but it's definitely not her best. it falls far too in her comfort zone, and to me, that makes it only a 6.5/10 album. above average, but not by much. it's totally fine to make average music, that's what creates the average, but i have so much belief that she is capable of better because i have seen it.

[autumnbrambleagain]

my reviews so far:

cohost: basically tumblr, but you can post porn. you cannot see how many likes a post got, even if it's your own, without going to notifications and manually counting and adding it all up. while i'm not a clout chaser, it feels kinda lonely not knowing if people liked this picture or that without having to get out an abacus. if i wanted interaction entirely hidden from me, i'd set up my own gallery website on a neocities and be done with it.

bluesky: it's just twitter but not run by elon musk. that makes it better than twitter run by elon musk, but no better than twitter was before elon musk.

itaku: probably the strongest of the competitors to, say, FA, but mandatory tagging, and its mandatory tags being different from those on other sites, means you can't just "upload and forget." uploading a backlog of several years' worth of images especially would be a multiple hour task from having to figure out what unique tags i gotta put on every single thing. also character limit makes it hard for me to find a place for my stories, which is like 50% of everything i do, so.

furaffinity: the grandpappy. ailing, outdated, increasingly shitty rules. engagement is on a downturn with the dozens of diasporas, its interface is deeply outdated, it can't display writing more complex than a .txt. the big advantage it had of intertia is finally slowly failing on it.

tumblr: you can't even say the word transgender here without getting flagged as mature. you can post porn, but only if you set it to Everyone, meaning if you do the responsible thing and try to keep children from seeing your porn you're punished. if you just let kids see your porn, they do nothing at all to stop you. this place betrayed my trust too many times by this point.

weasyl: a picture from a really great artist will get 500 favs on furaffinity and 25 on weasyl. this place is fucking dead and has been for the past decade.

sofurry: ill be honest i haven't looked at yiffstar since the mid 00s

inkbunny: probably one of the most robust websites, with the widest set of rules for drawing whatever you want. powerful blacklist and tagging system, good gallery mode. not sure on its ability to host stories. you can find cub porn on there but you could find that on FA back in the day too. downside: cannot do porn of humans, meaning weird human x furry is off the table, which i dont do much of but is still a downer. downside is the stigma of it being the cub website means most of the people you'd find on other sites aren't here so it's really its own ecology. also greenreaper is a weird transphobe transperson kinda thing and ew.

discord/telegram: these are chat programs, not websites.

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches and Wizards Job 15-16

AO3 Link

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Remember: Tumblr has no algorithm. Reblogs give me life.

1-2 + 3-4 + 5-6 + 7-8 + 9-10-11 + 12-13-14 + 15-16 + 17-18-19 + 20-21-22 + 23-24-25 + 26-27-28 + 29-30 + 31-32-33 + 34-35-36 + 37-38 + 39-40-41-42

FIFTEEN

Nate sprinted through the trail of destruction, chasing it all the way up the stairs and over several upturned benches. He skid to a halt at the sight of the shattered window, the marble floors battered but still smooth enough that he overshoot them. "Parker!"

"Nate!" She ran for him. "So the painting's a door with a lock and the man from the painting's real and he's a wizard -"

Nate gritted his teeth and focused on the onslaught. Everyone else tempered their reports; Parker didn't. Any information he didn't get now, when she was volleying it at him fresh out of her perceptions, would later be skewed from the thief's… unique perspective on the world. He could translate, he normally did, if only because usually he just wanted to make sure she was safe, they were all safe. But things had gone so ballistically out of control that he didn't dare.

Eliot dragged their battered consultant up, righted a bench the Golden Bear hadn't managed to destroy in its blind charge, and sat Dresden on it. "I'll be honest, man," he said calmly, "I liked it better when I thought it was just rabbits out of hats."

"You and me both," Dresden ground out, his head down. He was ashen with pain, and when Eliot put a hand gingerly on the wizard's shoulder he nearly swooned.

"Alright, my man, that shoulder's out." Eliot tried to catch Dresden's gaze.

"I know."

"It's dislocated -"

"I know."

"I can fix it -"

"I don't want you to, but I know."

"Harry, look at me."

"I can't," Dresden ground out at last. "You people trust too easy and I've been dodging soul-gazes since I met you all."

That brought the hitter up short. He could count the times he'd been accused of being too trusting in one hand, and for most of them he hadn't been old enough to drink legally. "S… Soul-gaze? What, you can look into my soul?" he tried to joke, even though something told him the wizard wasn't being funny.

"Sort of. Kind of." Dresden swallowed hard and tried to find any one position where his shoulder would leave him in peace. "It's a mutual sort of situation, though."

Eliot found himself both horrified and curious. It seemed to be a very common state of being where Dresden was concerned. "So you… look into my soul, and I get to look into yours?"

"Yeah. Reviews have been mixed for the show, so I prefer to skip it when I can. Makes it hard to keep friends." Harry gave him a wry grin, forgot himself and tried to shrug, and nearly fell off the bench.

Eliot hurried to steady the man, and suddenly Nate was there. "Hold him up, Nate."

"Yup. Getting your incidentals in, aren't you, Dresden."

"You pay those?" the wizard asked dizzily, then howled when Eliot, taking advantage of his moment of distraction, jerked the shoulder back into place. "That was about as painful as I thought it would be," he ground out breathlessly.

"Enjoy it later," Nate helped the hitter drag Dresden to his feet. "We've gotta get out of here before the cops swarm the place."

"I'm getting a little worried about what you people do for a living," Dresden admitted as they hurried past the massive gouges the Golden Bear's claws had left on the stairs, and the fine shale it had made of everything else that had gotten in its path. The leshy had been no tidier, just smaller. At least they didn't have to go back into the lab area; they bypassed it and headed further into the museum, through it, and then past to the open storage area, full of far more modern and precious things like floor cleaner and trash bags by the gross.

By then the wizard was moving under his own power, which worried Eliot a bit. He crossed a look with Nate, and saw the mastermind pinch his mouth into a thin line. It wasn't just that Dresden had the sort of quick recovery that said he was used to working through such injuries, it was the fact that he hadn't been meant to get injured to begin with. The trip to the museum had been meant to be a look-don't-touch: Harry had been hired to advice, not to be caught in the crossfire. Neither hitter nor mastermind were pleased with how things had gone down, and they were entirely too aware that it was no one's fault; that didn't mean they didn't feel the burden of it.

Sophie was waiting for them at the wheel of the white van. They shoved the wizard on the shotgun seat and piled into the back, where Mouse greeted them with great concern. Followed by Lucille 2.0, where Hardison had already cleared them to break through the police cordon, they drove back home, to try and figure out if they had a win, a loss or something else in their hands.

They took the chance to lick their wounds, sorting through what information they'd gathered. While Hardison ordered them all dinner and Eliot sorted out Dresden, Nate stepped out, fingers twitching for a drink that, for the first time in a long while, he didn't dare have. He was already having trouble coping with everything he'd seen and heard and learned that day while sober; he wasn't sure his rational incredulity wouldn't turn him beligerent if he threw whiskey into the fire.

"Nate?" The voice that steered him like a lighthouse through his life was gentle. She was always gentle, even when the steel peeked through the gorgeous satin and lace. Sophie came to stand by him. "Are we dropping the case?"

"I don't know," he admitted to her as he would have no one else, staring at the street and the few passing people, all of it wrapped in the deep golden haze of a New England summer sunset. "We should, shouldn't we?" She shrugged delicately and they stood in silence for a long moment. "You're sure it was real? That it couldn't have been anything else?"

"Some part of you must've known it was real," she told him. "Or you'd have never agreed to hire Harry."

"Harry, is it?"

She grinned. "I know what you're thinking, stop it. I think it's cute, like a schoolboy crush."

He couldn't help but snort in amusement at that.

"It was real." Sophie chewed lightly on her lip. "I thought I believed, you know? I thought I was ready for it. It seemed so exciting, so fun." She scoffed at herself. "It was a man with a shotgun and we were sheep in a pen." When she heard him hiss a breath out, she spoke before he could. "Parker never doubted. Never even hesitated."

"Parker has a view of the world I envy somedays," he admitted. "I think… it can't be my call, not alone. I want to drop it. But I don't think Dresden would." He saw the grifter make a face, something he caught only because he knew the gamut of her expressions so well. "What?"

"What? Sophie replied innocently.

"No, no, what was that face for?"

She clung to the pretense for a moment longer. "It's Harry."

"What about him?" Nate's tone sharpened.

"Not like that, Nate," she told him tartly. "It's just… Harry. Parker believed him. Eliot doesn't care. Even Hardison likes him."

"I don't like him."

"You don't like anyone. But you're still including him in the planning, you're still making him part of the con. Tara had to fight for it with all of you."

Nate let out a soundless little 'ah'. "You hired Tara."

Sophie shifted away from him, her eyes going hard.

The mastermind shifted forward to match, catching her shoulders. "And it was the right call." He watched surprise flicker over her features, but he was long past the point where he'd allow himself to believe such admissions were a weakness. "We needed a grifter. None of them were ready to step into the role, and I'm not the greatest at it -"

"Nate Ford, admitting he's not perfect?" She teased him to hide her surprise and smiled a little, fussing with the lapels of his shirt. "But?"

"But you hired Tara. None of the team got a say in the matter. We all agreed to hire Dresden, even me."

She licked her lips and thought on it. "I don't think we should drop the case. I don't think we can," she looked up at him.

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of," he admitted. "If they come after Parker, they'll be dealing with all of us."

"Even Harry?"

Nate sighed, deeply put upon. "Even the wizard." The streetlights came on at that moment, and a familiar car pulled up next to them along the curb; Nate brightened up. "Food's here."

"You know, we got that house and everything, we were supposed to have meetings there to protect Hardison's equipment, and I don't think anyone's set foot on it except his dog." Sophie pointed out as they rode the elevator up, arms full of Chinese take-out.

"Hopefully that'll change soon. I don't want to beat Fedorov on the exploding equipment department."

SIXTEEN

Parker came to find me with a cup of coffee and a very confused expression on her face. Of all the Leverage people she was the less emotive of the bunch, the hardest to read. Sophie flickered through her emotions depending on the situation, but they were still honest. Ford was just angry, so rigidly controlled I was honestly surprised the man didn't snap like a string pulled too far. Eliot and Hardison were relatively normal, if that word even applied to any of the team. But you know. Wizard. Stones and glass houses and all that.

It took me a moment to realize that she was worried. "What's that look for, me?"

"Yes." She admitted readily.

I scoffed. "I've been worse."

"You weren't supposed to get hurt," she protested. "You were just supposed to answer questions and explain things."

Ah. I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that, when Leverage had hired me as a consultant, they actually meant a consultant. I scooted myself over; I was resting on the only couch in the place, Mouse half-sprawled on my lap, staring mournfully at me. I'd showered, and Eliot had wrapped me up like a mummy so my ribs were only twinging occasionally. My arm was on a sling; I didn't want to ask why there were so many high-grade medical supplies at hand.

"We did, you know. Break into a museum."

She scoffed even as she sat next to me. "That's the point."

"A point I'm not following."

"If we just wanted you to see the portrait, Dresden, she could've stolen it for you." Eliot came out of the back of the loft, behind the wall of silent, dark screens. "She could've even put it back, but it would have taken too long to do it undetected." He marched into the kitchen and found a beer in the rattling fridge.

Parker popped her mouth. "So yeah. It was me."

"It wasn't you."

"He's right," Ford swept into the room, Sophie behind him, both their arms full of Chinese take-out. Hardison's head popped up from under one of the desks around the screens, and in a moment there was enough food going around that no one spoke for a few minutes.

"What do you mean it wasn't me?" Parker finally demanded.

"I mean we've been wrong about this from the beginning," Ford explained, and then his mouth pressed to a very thin line. "And we put mister Dresden in the line of fire with that misunderstanding. We did. The team did." The anger simmered minutely. "I did."

Oh. Oh. It was himself he lived angry at. Oh, boy.

"We agree that the malfunctioning fire suppression system at the Gardner was a sloppy job?" Nate asked the table, to general assent. "And we're still stuck on the targets?"

"Couldn't have been us, Fedorov wouldn't have been sloppy, that only leaves the woman," Eliot replied.

"No," Ford said. "It doesn't only leave the woman, because there was a fourth target."

"The portrait," Sophie breathed.

Hell's Bells, he was right.

"The attack was already planned," Ford explained. "Something simply accelerated the timeline. Now, it wasn't Fedorov because again, his visit was planned. It wasn't us, we hadn't taken the case yet."

"Baba Yaga," Parker breathed.

"Yes." Ford confirmed with deadly certainty. "This man, the man in black, he wasn't just coming by. He was coming in, to make sure everything was in place. Then he saw the woman and decided, why not. We were a monkeywrench, a snag he wasn't expecting." He stared levelly at Parker. "We've kept him from stealing the portrait twice. Once, when we derailed the impromptu attack and twice, because without the cylinder he couldn't go through with the actual, scheduled theft."

It worked. I saw Parker straighten up minutely, tension leaving her shoulders. More, it made sense. Ford had taken the bare-bones fragments that his team had managed to pick up here and there, and he'd put them together into a complete map of a plan I hadn't even glimpsed. Everyone in the Leverage team had a specialization; I was beginning to understand what Nate Ford was good at, and Jesus, he was really friggin' good.

"They should have never moved the collection," Sophie breathed.

"But they did," Ford declared with deadly finality. "Moving on. Parker, what else did you get from the man in black?"

"Wait." I went into the kitchen, found the salt and a paring knife, and came back. I made a protective circle around the chairs and the coffee table, empowered it, and looked up to find all five of them staring at me curiously. "People move," I explained. "You rarely get a good trace on an item when it's on a person, unless it belongs to them. I can't tell you if the man in black is good or bad at it, but I can tell you that as soon as he feels Parker doesn't have the stuff on her, he's going to try and track it down." I focused on the six of us being the only ones free to come and go past the shield, and poured a bit of my will into it. It snapped into life and I tried to hide a grimace; just that tiny bit of magic had felt like sandpaper scraping over a barely healed wound.

"Can you make something a little more permanent or, uh, less kickable than salt?"

"Did you get the brass piping from my shopping list?"

Ford looked at Hardison, who shrugged. "I got abou a third of the way through the list. It's all in the back room."

I wasn't sure I'd heard him right; the list hadn't been endless, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit I'd gone a little overboard, just because Ford's attitude had rubbed me wrong. "A th… A third?"

Eliot chuckled. "Harry, you know what's a few miles down that way?" He stabbed a thumb over his shoulder.

Fishman Central immediately came to mind, but I wasn't sure the hitter meant that. "Innsmouth?"

"Salem," he corrected, grinning. "Salem, Massachussetts."

I could have kicked myself. I was a bus ride away from one of the few places in the States that openly celebrated magic and witchcraft; granted a lot of it was just kitsch and tourist traps, but I didn't know how much of it was real. I had no idea how much of my shopping list Leverage could have acquired by basically walking down to the corner store.

"A lot of it was just hardware." Eliot looked terribly amused.

"How long will it take you to make a permanent…?" Ford waved his hand at the salt.

"Uh… Not long if I had both my arms, but -"

"Hardison and I can be your hands," Eliot pointed out.

"Alright, hardware mode," Hardison sounded outright gleeful. It probably had something to do with the look of utter resignation Ford was suddenly wearing. Eliot and Hardison shared a fistbump.

"Should I wait, then?" Parker sounded uncertain.

"I want a look," I admitted, curious in more ways than one. Sure, she'd stolen my wand, and my shield-bracelet. And my wallet. But how much could she have possibly got off the man in black given the only time she'd been near him he'd been practically strangling her?

"So do I," Ford relented after a moment. "But it's more important than ever now that the man in black doesn't find us."

"I want to know what those things were," Sophie said, not bothering to hide a shiver.

"Leshy," I said. It was a little jarring when I wasn't the only one who offered the answer. I looked at Eliot; everyone, in fact, was looking at Eliot, who looked as flustered as I'd yet seen the man.

"Leshy, that's Russian," Ford managed to look at me instead, but it was a struggle. Hell, I could barely look at him rather than at Leverage's heavy hitter.

"Yeah, they're Russian fairies. Dug up your fields, broke your tools if you left them out, you know. Engaged in general mayhem. When the modern age rolled around they turned into rent-a-th - how." Nope, couldn't look away from Eliot. "How do you even know about leshy?"

"I've had a couple of run-ins with them," he admitted sheepishly. "To be fair I thought leshy was the name of the organization, their last name, something like that, not like a, a name for what they are."

"How did you know it was them?" Ford asked curiously.

"Their accent." Eliot looked even more flustered. "It's a very distinctive accent, alright?"

"So the man in black can hire fairies to do his stealing for him," Sophie ground out disdainfully. "How nice for him."

"The leshy aren't the problem," I told her. It was still odd, somewhere between gratifying and scary, to find people who weren't trying to explain magic away, who were simply taking it in stride as much as possible, making it part of their plans, dealing with it. "You didn't see how he summoned the bear."

"That was seamless," Eliot agreed thoughtfully. "You've worked ahead on everything you've done. He didn't. That's a problem, isn't it."

"Portals aren't easy. They're expensive, in time, in materials, in magic. You can sort of cheat if it's a spot where people keep coming and going -"

"Where a path's been worn in," Ford mused.

"Yeah. But what he did? I know maybe two people who could open a portal like that, no prep, no tools. I know none who could also open it exactly to the Nevernever creature that they wanted to summon, unless they're also from the Nevernever, and this guy isn't. He's a wizard. He's human."

"You don't look happy to know that." Ford was watching me with hyperbolic attention. He'd been the hardest to avoid for a soul-gaze; the Leverage people used their eyes like they did everything else, voice, posture, brain - like a weapon. Ford still didn't like me, even if he was willing to both believe me and work with me. He kept trying to stare me down, and I really didn't want to see what the ice in his gaze hid.

I also didn't want him to look into my soul and find out he was mostly right about me. "Wizards are strictly forbidden to use magic to harm or kill others."

"Ah." I watched him digest that. "Men in grey and big swords?"

"Yup."

"Is there anything in your world that doesn't carry a death penalty?" Sophie protested, incredulous.

"Between him and me we just blew up an entire lab in that museum. Men in grey and big swords are… about the only thing that works." I couldn't believe that I was agreeing with the White Council but the truth was, the Wardens existed for people like the man in black. I'd run afoul of them, and I'd been snagged for a scapegoat way too often to ever make peace with the Council or their attack dogs, but until the system got fixed, they were what we had.

"Hm." Ford filed away that information. I could almost hear his mind whirring, coming up with ideas, thoughts, possibilities - a computer that no magic could short out. "Parker, you about done?"

"Almost," she informed him.

I looked back at her. She had knelt by the coffee table, just shy of my circle, and was still pulling things out of her pockets.

… how?!

She saw me staring and gave me that wicked grin. "He had a lot of stuff. I left his stick, though. I left anything I thought he might notice was gone." Finally she pulled the key out.

"No, don't put that down," I stopped before I caught her hand. Parker, I'd noticed, was one of those people who don't like to be touched. She didn't mind Hardison doing it, but I was beginning to suspect they were an item. She didn't mind Sophie, but if anyone qualified as a Team Mom, Sophie was it. But even Eliot and Ford made sure never to initiate contact, leaving her to breach the distance at her leisure. "You're the best protection it has right now."

"Oh."

"Just let me have a good look at it. We already know what it opens."

She held it up obediently for me.

It was a very old key, small, the sort that might open a keepsake box. It had a slim bar with the expected toothy bit at one end and an incredibly elaborate flower design on the other, full of tiny jewels. At first I'd thought it was silver, but with my life not being threatened I could tell that the shine of it was too bright. "Platinum."

"Yes, and diamonds. Can you turn it, Parker?" Sophie's head tipped as she stared. "Beautiful. Old. Those are the Finnish techniques Faberge learned from his mentor, and later perfected. Those aren't sapphires."

"No, they're emeralds. Egyptian emeralds. They look blue because no one has gems of that purity anymore, not even the Colombians." Ford had walked behind the couch so he could lean closer without disturbing the circle. I'd made a guess on the platinum; I was pretty sure neither Sophie nor Ford were guessing. "Dresden, do any of those have any… significance?"

It was almost refreshing to have the one disbeliever. "Platinum's a good magical conductor. Gold's better, but platinum's a little more resilient." Hardison, across from me, was laughing again, and I took a guess as to why. "Same with technology?"

"Where did you lose your way, man? When did you, and all this, start running on a proprietary OS? We could've been friends. Cyberpunk. Magitech Imagine the possibilities."

"Hardison, I can't even keep a fridge. I'd be your first convert." I returned my attention to the key. I expected the squiggly details on it to mean something, but not what I found. "Huh." I put my hand out for it.

"I thought you wanted me to keep it," Parker protested.

"You can, but I don't think you have to. It does have an enchantment worked into it - a tracking foil."

"It can't be tracked?" Ford perked up.

"No. Not by the man in black, not by anyone." The key pinged lightly against my hand and my magic. It was powerful, just as powerful as I'd come to expect from any object involved in this whole mess, but carefully contained. From up close the confusion enchantment upon it was even more complex, the work like lace. "This is… It's like everything else involved so far. Way too powerful to be found out here in the real world. This is a thing of the Nevernever, of fairy tales, like the mirror the leshy were using." I handed the key back. "Can I borrow that later?"

"Why?"

She wasn't being rude, but literal. Hard as she was to read when it came to emotions, Parker was very straightforward when it came to most other interactions and I actually appreciated that a lot. "Because I'm gonna tape it to the death bottle downstairs."

She frowned thoughtfully at me as she took the key back, and then put it all together. "So the key will make it harder to find."

"Now you're thinking like a wizard."

She beamed.

"Dresden brings up an important point," Ford stepped back around. "This case has gotten way bigger than anything we usually handle. These are not the type of people we usually take on. These aren't the risks we normally take." He caught and held the eyes of each of his people; he tried with me, but I was looking at the mess of things Parker had left on the coffee table. "Are we staying on this job?"

"Why would we drop it?" Parker asked.

"Because a giant bear and multiple fairy thugs just tried to kill you," I told her mildly.

"Yeah, but people are always trying to kill us."

That was a little jarring to hear. "What is it you people do again?"

"Steal things," Parker went back to sitting next to me, the key disappearing somewhere on her person.

"I - Yes, but - I mean, other than the obvious!"

"I knew from the beginning this was gonna be big," Eliot slouched comfortably back and shrugged peaceably at Ford. "The leshy are real. The bear was real. We've managed, and honestly, I don't want to think of what might have happened if we hadn't gotten involved at the Gardner museum, or at the MFA."

"He's right," Sophie laced her hands and leaned forward to stare at the oddities on the coffee table. "This might be bigger than we're used to, but if not us, no one. I just -" She shot me a quick look that I almost missed.

"This is what I do," I told her.

"But not what we hired you for," Ford said with quiet force. "You were supposed to advice, Dresden, to inform. Not get caught in a firefight."

"Or almost get eaten by a bear," Eliot added mildly.

"You hired me for my services as a wizard. If there's a rogue wizard running around Boston, this is exacly where I'm supposed to be, and exactly what I'm supposed to be doing."

Muscles twitched along Ford's jaws. "Hardison?"

Leverage's tech-man was quiet for a moment before he shrugged lightly. "It's just screens, Nate. I'm like, the least at-risk person here, and I agree with Eliot. We've managed so far, even without knowing what we were dealing with. Now we know, sort of. We've done a lot more with a lot less."

Ford frowned. Unlike Sophie, he could actually not look at me when he chose to.

Seriously. It felt weird to have people worry about my well-being that were also paying for my work.

"Fine. We stay on the job. Dresden." He waved my attention on to the table.

There were a dozen things, some of them nearly as glorious as the key, some of them plain and unassuming. There was a wooden egg, unpainted, without decoration except for the grain of the wood. I opened it to find a hollow inside, lined with ancient lamb's wool.

"Oh, a nesting doll!" Sophie exclaimed. "Is the inside lost?"

I set the egg aside and looked around. "Looks like it." There was a beautiful comb, the sort you use to pin your hair back if you're a lady of high standing, gold and lacquer and tiny pearls. I picked it up and dropped it almost at the same time; it reeked of death magic, dormant but powerful, like a high-voltage cable lying on the ground.

"Is that bad?" Ford asked.

"It's not nice." There was a wooden cup done in an archaic style, without handle, with a high base and beautiful carving around the rim. A greasy, aging rabbit's foot, the claws yellow with age. A scrap of coarse blue fabric that might have been a handkerchief. A box of matches. A stub of a candle that felt so loaded with magic I had to carefully roll it to one side. "You know what." This was absurd; Parker had apparently pickpocketed a magpie. I dug into my pocket and threw two additions onto the pile: a few black feathers and the shards of the enchanted mirror.

"What are the feathers from?" Parker, next to me, asked.

"From when I tried to grab him and the leshy picked me off him. I don't know what I actually got hold of, but it was on him."

"And the mirror?" Ford stared at all of this curiosly.

"The leshy were using it to communicate. Bit like your earbuds," I nodded at Hardison.

"Aren't magic mirrors supposed to be big and fancy?" he replied.

"They are." I didn't have to explain anything else; I could feel their understanding in their tension.

There was a small scrimshaw duck; the ivory felt like the tooth of something old and highly predatory, and when I examined it more closely I realized it was a whistle. Some chicken bones bound up in a napkin I figured belonged to a local joint. A random chess piece, a black tower, plastic. An empty, crumpled envelope. I un-crumpled it and put the feathers in it. "No wallet?" It was meant to be a joke. I was trying to hide my shock; some part of me wondered if Parker had even left the lint in his pockets.

She shrugged. "He'd have missed that. He did have a pocket watch, but -"

"But he'd have missed that, too. And you said he had a, a stick, a blasting rod, a wand like mine." She nodded.

I stared at the mess in front of me.

"Spell?" Eliot asked.

"Ritual?" Sophie suggested.

I shoved aside the comb and the candle. "These two are magic. These," I waved the handkerchief at the rest of the stuff and threw it in with the lot, "are not."

"But it's a rabbit's foot," Parker protested.

"Didn't bring the rabbit a lot of luck, did it? Luck is hard magic, Parker. It's like a whip, the recoil's always gonna come back to bite you in the face if you push it too far." Even with the three things out of the way, I couldn't think of any spell, any ritual, any magic that would require all the things in front of me. I was pretty sure a wizard of the caliber of the man in black didn't shove chicken bones in his pocket out of a driving desire not to litter, so even that had to have meaning, weight in some fashion. "I need a scrying crystal. I need to make sure there's no magic to them, or a connection between them - is this table important to someone?" I rapped my knuckles on it and fished my sharpie out of a pocket in the duster.

"Go ahead," Ford replied. "How long would it take you to make your… crystal?"

"Not long." I wanted to be in bed. I didn't care if it was made of nails and crushed glass, sleeping on the train hadn't been nearly as restful as I'd made it out to be, and I'd just had a serious throwdown with a wizard that was at least two centuries old and powerful accordingly. But I also needed answers; my employers needed answers. "It makes no sense that only these two things would be magical. I'm thinking there's a Veil on them."

"What's a Veil?"

"Head magic, mind magic. You hide something, or you make it look like something else, someone else. Like the man in black did, back at the vault, wearing your friend's face." I gathered everything together on the table and drew a circle around it. The sharpie already had some of my blood in it, I kept it exactly for the kind of use it was currently seeing: circles on the fly that needed more solidity than chalk.

"Oh, yeah." Parker scowled at nothing; apparently she was going to hold that grudge unto the end times.

"He what?" Hardison exclaimed.

"He stole Jess' face."

Yup, definitely unto the end times.

"He what?" Hardison's brow furrowed in concern. "This isn't a T-1000 thing, is it?"

Ok, I was beginning to feel like the only one who hadn't been invited to some kind of worldwide party, and I could only hope the look I was giving them conveyed that feeling.

"Uh, it's from a movie," Hardison explained hastily. "Killer robot made of liquid metal, it steals the looks of other people so it can get close to you."

"And it kills them?"

"Yeah."

"Dopplegangers and Veils don't work like that. If you're copying someone's look, you need them close at hand so you can refresh the illusion regularly. And if it's just a quick thing, they're not gonna care. It would even make things easier if he looked like Parker's friend while stealing the painting -"

"Portrait," Sophie murmured.

"- portr- there's a difference?"

"Small but crucial. In any case, he could have blamed Jessamine, so it benefitted him to leave her alive."

"Exactly."

"Cameras can't see him," Hardison protested. "Tech overclocks and explodes, there'd be no evidence."

"Wouldn't matter if he had witnesses. No one would be looking for another culprit when they had one right there already. Besides, you can look at a Veil, Hardison. It's them you can't look at. The Veil's what comes out blurry." He gave me such a look. "Go on. I bet if you look at any footage from the vault, you won't see him, not until the very end, when we got out, but it also won't blow up your computer. Go ahead. Triple dog dare you."

I could see the challenge hit him, and caution war with curiosity. Hardison was a deeply curious man. Like me, he wanted to know what made the world tick. I did it with magic, he did it with his computers. Potato potahto.

"I swear, Dresden, if I lose another screen…" He moved over to the desk, revealing a keyboard in one of them and activating the central screen.

"Dresden, could I have the envelope, please?" Ford requested. I pulled the feathers out and handed it over. It was plain, coarse, with some sort of engraving on the front. "What about the mirror shards?"

What about those, indeed. I had an idea, but I wasn't sure it was going to work. Not to mention I didn't have the skill or the know-how to pull it off in a hurry. "Can any of you make jewelry? It doesn't have to be fancy, just… sturdy, I guess."

Sophie suddenly gasped. "Does it still work?"

"Fingers crossed that it does." She'd already seen the shape of what I planned. "Magic mirrors aren't automatically connected. They're like a phone - you call a number, connect from one mirror to another. That spell's gone, shattered when the mirror did. But the mirror itself, that's still magic. Heavy-duty magic. There's one number it can still call."

Ford shifted minutely and for just a second I saw the real man behind the slightly rumpled, harmless facade, all ice and fury and single-minded focus. "So the shards can talk to one another?"

"Yup."

He dug a handkerchief out of his own pocket, spread it on his hand and put it out. I surrendered the shards without question. "No silver. Platinum would be best. Gold will do in a pinch."

"Mm. 'Not long' isn't a very precise quantity, Dresden."

"Look, Ford, I ran my magic empty. That first blow the man in black threw? It ate everything I had. All of the fight after, that was me talking Boston at him. To create a scrying glass, I have to empower it, to empower it I need magic, to get magic I need some rest -"

"Ah, so you mean tomorrow." God, the man couldn't even let me get properly angry at him! I'd have mustered a surly growl if he didn't look pleased at having a deadline, rather than angry that I wasn't about to pull an all-nighter. "That's fine. Will your… circles hold until then?"

"I hope so. I think so. But this guy's swinging a lot of power. I'll feel much better when I have everything behind a proper circle - the brass piping's for that. And I'm probably going to go down there and tape the key to the Witchwell now, rather than later -"

"You win, Dresden," Hardison called out from across the room, and every head turned toward him. He had three screens active, all of them showing what I was pretty sure was security footage no one outside the cops ought to have.

The others gathered around him. I sat down on the couch and rubbed my dog's ears. He snored at me. Ah, to be loved.

I tried to follow the conversation going on around the screens, but I hadn't lied to Ford: I was beyond exhausted, scraped clean to the bone. I could feel power seeping back into me, but again, it wasn't the firepower that worried me so much as the fact every bone in my body ached just to think of doing even the most minimal spellwork.

I snapped awake to a hand on my good shoulder. "Dresden."

For a moment nothing made sense. The air felt wrong, the man looking down at me was a stranger. I didn't know who I was, who he was, what we were doing, where we were.

So I didn't think to look away.

For a moment, all I saw were chains.

A Soulgaze is dangerous when you're prepared, let alone when you're not expecting it. It's not going to show you any deep dark secret about a person, or what they think of themselves, or anything like that. It's the truth of them, clean of all the masks that culture and society puts on us, all the lies we tell ourselves. It can be an interesting insight into someone's personality, or history.

There were chains everywhere, some corroded, some fresh, some shattered and haphazardly piled up here and there on a vast plain of ice. They all came from nowhere, moving sedately, like the coils of some unseen beast, to wrap around a massive block of ice. Their motion filled the air with whispers, a hundred, a thousand voices, all pleading for help. There was a man trapped inside the ice, and as soon as the chains reached him they changed, turning into lines of light, splitting, dividing, multiplying, rushing away like immense fractal trees along the ice. Each line was a whisper, a word, an image. There were gaping holes in the ice block, as if something had struck it and shattered it, threatening to free the man inside it.

The man was Nathan Ford.

I threw myself back and away from the Soulgaze so hard I fell off the couch. I heard, vaguely, Ford staggering back and crashing into the kitchen bar.

"Nate!" Sophie rushed at him.

I'd fallen on my bad shoulder. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to be awake. Mouse was licking my face, whining anxiously. "Dresden, you alright?" That was Eliot. Two pairs of hands caught me and forced me up, back on the couch. "What happened?"

"I told you." I had to get the words out, even if my throat felt full of ice. "You all trust too easy. You shouldn't look a wizard in the eyes like that."

"Sophie, I need a drink," Ford croaked from the kitchen stool. It was tendered to him in record time.

"Do you want a drink?" Parker asked me, utterly serious.

"Coffee," I managed. I didn't sound any better than Ford. She brought me a cup and I drank, and the silence went on for a good few minutes.

"Dresden." Ford sounded so mild. I knew better. I knew what the ice hid. "What did you do?"

"Soulgaze. Little gift of True Sight. If I stare too long into someone's eyes I get a peek into their soul… and they get a peek into mine. One time only. Not gonna happen again, not with you."

It wasn't gonna happen with any of them, not the moment Ford decided I was too much of a liability to keep around. I have done things I know have put scars on me. I'm carrying sins I can never forgive myself for, can never atone for. I had no way of knowing what he'd seen, but I knew it was neither pretty nor reassuring.

Well, at least I had the one day's paycheck to look forward to.

"Parker," Ford said, his voice still full of that calm, mild tone. "You and Eliot take Dresden to the safehouse. Make sure he actually goes to bed, not to do more work."

"What about the death bottle?" she asked. Which was an excellent question, I just wasn't thinking about it at the time because I wasn't sure I was hearing Ford correctly.

"He was just going to tape the key to it, right? I trust you two can do that without reading the thing or taking it out of the circle."

"Ford -"

"We'll talk tomorrow. I think that's enough of… all this for one day," he declared, his voice going brittle before he charged up the stairs and out of sight.

[leebrontide]

One thing about our new garden is that the soil is shit.

I am begging people not to rake up all their leaves in the fall and all their grass clippings in the summer. Every time you dispose of this organic "waste" you're taking the nutrients those plants pulled up out of the soil and throwing it away. Plus, you're destroying habitat for loads of important insects and fucking with the whole ecosystem.

The people who owned the house before us clearly raked and removed loads of leaves and clippings for the 30 years they lived in the house. The soil is practically sand. Just no nutrients left in it and very little ability to retain water.

People used to ask us why our soil in our old place was lovely rich nearly-black soil. The answer was that we didn't take our leaves up till mid April, after most insects didn't need them for hatching and hiding anymore, and they've broken down a fair amount of their nutrients into the soil. Then we'd mow up as much as possible and leave the chopped up leaves all over the lawn, to further break down and return the nutrients to the ground.

I've been looking for a rotatable compost bin for the new place, even though we're all small enough that rotating them can be sort of a pain in the ass.

But I'll confess that an ad-algorithm got me. I go on YouTube for 3 minutes, because my usual music streaming service was down and I do enjoy the "17th century villain" playlists on there, and I got an ad for an electric countertop composter.

This is not some kind of supported product placement on my part. The Lomi, which is the thing I saw an ad for, is a good $500 bought new, and I just flat out wasn't gonna do that.

But, I was curious enough to read some reviews, and then check craisglist. Lo and Behold, I found one for cheap, for sale from someone who bought and liked one, but also has an honest to god farm, and decided to go back to larger scale outdoor composting.

So, now we have a Lomi countertop composter.

You take the food waste from the day (our kiddo, Starling, eats a staggering amount of fruit, and a lot of eggs, so there's always shells, cores and peels and stuff laying around) and you put it in the bucket, and lock the lid, and push one button.

In two hours you have totally dry, totally broken down compost that smells almost like dry hay, ready to drop on the yard to put back in nutrients.

I'm a bit in love with it.

And, on top of that, it can break down dairy and meat. You shouldn't ever put cooked meat in your outdoor compost, because birds will try to forage it, and get cooked fat grease on their feathers, which they can't clean off and can lead to illness. They're not evolved to handle cooked meat. But this way the meat is all broken down and safe to put outside. Which means throwing less away, which is great.

I will say, we didn't put in the charcoal the first time, and it had the used up charcoal from the previous owner in there and THAT was a mistake. Made the whole house smell like sweet vinegar. Which could be worse, considering this is food rotting down, but it was terrible when it's too cold to even open a window.

You can get Lomi brand charcoal filters, but it's just little charcoal pellets, so I'll probably just buy some from the aquarium store when we run out. But this batch should last us several months.

The thing also came with Lomi "tablets". So far, we've used them. But I'm going to experiment with not using them at some point, since the webpage for the Lomi says you don't NEED them. They do genuinely add helpful bacteria and fungi to the soil, which is great, but I can buy soil improvers that can do that, much more economically, from my local urban farm supply in the spring. No branded little pellets required. Plus, with the lawn being under snow, and the processed compost having to go on top of the snow, I'm not sure how much of that bacteria would be surviving right now, anyways.

[liminalwings]

DMBR - Seeking Dragons: Connecting to Dragon Energy and Magick

Author: Virginia Chandler

Book Link

"The most honest, down-to-earth Dragon Magic book on the market. Great for those just starting a dragon path, and a breath of fresh air for those who have already been practicing for several years. This book draws from draconic lore around the world to create a personal system working with dragon archetypes, so does not fall into the trap of other works that presents Unverified Personal Gnosis as some sort of Universal Truth, nor does she make bold claims of a false ‘historic authenticity’ like certain others; the author states clearly that your path will likely not end up looking like her own path presented here as you develop your practice. 

This book is very much meant as a thoughtful springboard and introduction to working with dragons and becoming familiar with their energies. Out of the handful of dragon magic books currently on the market, this is the first one I would be comfortable recommending to beginners, as no matter your view on the nature of draconic existence, much of what is presented in here can be applied just as well. "

From the author of Year of the Magickal Dragon, which I've reviewed previously and gave lukewarm approval to (compared to other dragon magic books which tend to run mostly tepid). From the start, Chandler makes it very clear that she is offering a system of working that is, one, based on her own developed path rather than trying to claim a false historic legitimacy or universal truth, and two, is very clearly once again utilizing draconic archetypes. I'm not an archetypal kind of witch but it can definitely have its place and use, and a lot of practice suggestions in this book can be applied to non-archetypal beings as well. She also says plainly that a lot of the practices she presents are just how she does things and that your path, as you use her examples as a springboard, may end up looking very different as you practice; there is no 'this is how it absolutely must be'. As such it goes without saying that with how much personal leeway there is given and the fact that you're working with archetypes, there is little-to-no 'dragons are like this' or other similar absolute statements about the nature of dragons; dragons, in this system, are how you as the practitioner experience them. There is also no talk about Atlantis, multiple dimensions, Draconic Elemental Rulers/Universal Clan Leaders, or equating magic with quantum mechanics, thank gods. She does encourage readers to engage in some level of critical thinking and explore alternate ideas, though I do feel some of her alternate readings of dragon myths can be a slight stretch at times. 

It should also be mentioned that her practice is influenced by Neo-Paganism, which is to say Wiccan-flavored, at least a little bit. The meditations included are very similar to the ones she gave in her previous book, and are probably the most rigid part of her work (personally not a fan, but that's okay). Also included are incense and oil recipes for various rituals, and she does make a point of basic health and safety practices (especially fire safety). There is both a 'recommended reading' AND citations, mostly for the lore she discusses with each archetype, but it's still nice to see. Warning though: two of her three recommendations for rune information (pertinent to her path as also taking Scandinavian influence) are by Edred Thorsson/Steven Flowers (of AFA affiliation). 

If I had to be honest, a lot of this felt like if someone had managed to turn Tumblr’s collective dragon magic posts into a full-fledged book… with far more UPG than I've been comfortable sharing so far. I almost wish this had been available before Conway's works, and might even deign to make this my first 'recommended book' for those new to working with dragons, instead of my usual stance of "they're all crap." Do I think it's perfect? Well, no. But it's the closest Llewellyn has gotten so far. 

[gecko-s-greenhouse]

a thread about my shithole job

when i asked my therapist about workplace trauma and how to move forward from it, she suggested setting some time aside to feel my feelings and journal about it. so that's what i'm going to do, because i'm determined to move on from all the ways that i was mistreated at that shithole job now that it's been 5 months (lol).

for context, my first job out of my PhD was at a tiny startup of fewer than 10 employees. i felt lucky to land the job because the biotech job market was in a bad place at the end of 2022 (it's worse now at the end of 2023), and luckier still because the company sang a (lying) tune about company culture that i bought into. the job ranged from okay to a total dumpster fire and i'll get into the details below, and then after 5 months, i was unceremoniously laid off. (alternately, my entire team of 2 was unceremoniously restructured.)

and because i signed a non-disparagement agreement to get my severance, i can't tell you the company's name. i assume not all of these issues occur at other companies,

topics that i want to cover:

my own timeline of events.

company retreat.

what i wish i had said to my shitty ex-manager when she fired me.

cult of personality.

how to create a healthy work environment. (the short version: consume any/all media that anne helen petersen puts out)

dating among the c-suite.

"i'm not here to make friends."

qualities of a good manager.

respecting time off.

i regret not taking more time off.

what does giving employees an honest chance look like?

valuing humans over success; failure is always on the table.

and others that i'm sure will spring to mind.

today's topics:

company retreat.

for context, about 2 months into my time at this company, we went for a 3 day/2 night ski retreat.

the invite went out after i had accepted the position, but before i had started, so i felt like this was "mandatory fun" and forced team bonding time that i had to attend (even though the text of the email said no pressure!), so i accepted, but made clear from the beginning that i am not a skiier and would not be joining the downhill skiing activities.

come the week of the event, work was a flaming shitshow. we were in our first sprint week at this startup, and two new hires were visiting from oot so we had to entertain them and make it seem like work was chill even though we were working overtime.

actually being on retreat was fine, i guess? we did cabin activities, they went skiing and i did other snow stuff. it was awkward but manageable. the CEO covered activity fees for only the downhill skiiers, so i, notably not in this group, had to pay my own way for tubing, skating, and snowshoeing all by my lonesome.

i now regret not asking for my activity fees to be covered also.

we get home, and the CEO sends out a group photo. that was taken at the top of the ski mountain.

let that sink in for a moment.

ask yourself, who was not included in the picture?

and to make matters worse, i was never, at any point during this retreat, invited to be in a group photo.

that was the first time i cried over this shithole job, and the first time that i told myself that i wasn't going to care anymore. (first time? because i wasn't good at holding myself to it.) startups want their employees to be part of a shitty family, and i was no longer having it.

to make matters worse, when i was being hired, the CEO had fed me a lying story about how "we're not like other startups" and want to focus on employee well-being over the other cultish aspects of stereotypical startup culture.

what i wish i had said to my shitty ex-manager when she fired me.

i don't appreciate being patronized. the first thing she said to me was, "this may come as a surprise, but..." haha no, this was not a surprise in any way, shape, or form. i've known that you wanted to fire me from that joke of a performance review* (more on this later) a month ago, right up through this meat grinder of a so-called "second chance" you've given me. i guess i am only surprised that you fired me right in the middle of a field trial where i'm a member of the team of two that handles every sample that comes through.

just because you don't like what my data says doesn't mean it's bad data. 'nuff said.

if you're restructuring, why can't i be absorbed into another function of the company? why do you have to look me in the eye, lie to me and tell me that you think i'm a great scientist, but apparently not one who can learn how to contribute to other functions that i am fully capable of doing and you know it?

what's this bullshit about "effective immediately"? (don't @me about MA at will employment, i know the law but i'm talking here about decency, which i guess is a foreign concept to you.) shouldn't i be given a couple days to tie up loose ends, tell you how to find my shit, and say a non-rushed goodbye to those of my colleagues who i did come to like? and ESPECIALLY because i had requested several days of pto THAT YOU HAD APPROVED starting literally the next day? this feels like a move for YOU, so you don't have to look at me any more than you have to after you made this decision.

also, in the state of massachusetts, it would be polite to lay people off with enough lead time that they can acquire health insurance in a timely manner. assembling the necessary documents takes time, and the last day to sign up for the next month's coverage is the 23rd day of the prior month. lesson learned: negotiate a severance package that includes health coverage. again, i understand that decency is a foreign concept to you.

what gives you the right to play games with people's lives? this thought really took shape as my nutbag ex-manager continued to arbitrarily fire people, including one on an O1 visa. consider my situation: i had been at this company for 5 months and got laid off. any decent manager looking in would see this and immediately recognize that the problem is with the company (funding?) and the management rather than with me, a young scientist who hasn't even been given the standard amount of time to fuck up learn the ropes (1 year) before being shown the door. alternately, what gives you the right to brand me as someone who behaves poorly? (because that's the only other reason a stranger would think that i was laid off so quickly?) for example, my friend and former colleague, upon finding out that i lasted only 5 months at the company, immediately asked if the company was having money problems, but he's someone who knows me and knows that i'm not a jerk, but that's not immediately obvious to a stranger. what gives you the right?

you are running your company into the ground. i don't care if your science is impeccable (it's clearly not based on my data), but it's clear to me that your company is going to fail if you keep treating your employees like this. the consensus among former employees of the company, both the ones who were laid off and the ones who left of their own volition

i hope you fail. i will gleefully eat my popcorn WHEN it happens.

also, i want my stuff back. (i wouldn't have forgotten it if you'd given me more notice!)

to be continued.

also, am i supposed to talk about my feelings too? overwhelmingly angry that at an incompetent inexperienced and scared manager treated my life/career/future as a gigantic joke to her, but also disappointed in myself that i signed on in the first place, and sad to have lost a year that i could have otherwise spent building my career to this total nonsense. bad times all around.