#nonbooks

[coffeenonsense]

louis: haha what lestat who idk him

lestat, literally insane an ocean away: YOU WANNA FUCK ME SO BAD IT MAKES YOU LOOK STUPID

[yeraskier]

what if yennskier becomes canon and that's why henry left? i would've won but at what cost.

[capinejghafa]

the absolute funniest thing about the hate is that show fans do actually enjoy it. like my friend had a blast watching it and generally just can’t engage with the fandom as a result of enjoying the show lol

[pebblethief]

having my pc back is so nice :3

i get to sit here and sew/mess abt on the internet listening to my bf on his computer next to me

we r parallel playing it is great

[robocracker]

invented a new game for myself today... it’s called ‘scroll through the his dark materials tumblr tag at the speed of lightning so you can like posts without actually processing any spoilers, because every time you (i) search a tag, it craps out after a couple weeks of content and you (i) don’t want to miss out on anything when the show lands in the uk on the 18th’

[honeyroastedpeanus]

if someone tells me "you'd love this book!! i dont really read books but i LOVE this one" that means im not gonna like it

[memoriallibrarytmc]

What’s Here Wednesday: TMC PSA: Population Head Count

Those multi-piece items can be tricky: sometimes the dinosaurs stomp out of the jars, the beetles fly off, and don’t get us started on those jungle animals that have to be wrangled back into their container! That’s why it’s a good idea to “take attendance” of what’s in a multi-piece set and make sure that all the items are present and accounted for before you take it out... and before you bring it back.

You can make sure you’ve got all the pieces by looking at any labels on the packages, or even the information you see on line, on the item’s record in ONESearch. After checking the label, count the items to be sure they’re all there. You can always let someone at the Help Center know if you notice that something is missing, so we can be on the lookout for any stray items.

[4uru]

The tiktok Pjo fandom scene rn:

Non book reader: In a world of boys, hes a-

Book reader 1 : PSYCO KILLER! BED ON FIRE! FAFAFAFA FA FA FAFAFA RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN AWAYYYYYY-

Nonbook reader: What-

Book reader 2 : IT WAS A JOKE! ITS AN INSIDE JOKE! Cuz like, hes so nice and sweet.

Book reader 3: yeah, he would never do anything bad. So we like to joke that hes a psychopath secretly. Just a joke. Dont worry.

Non book reader: ok! *frolicks away*

Book reader 2 to book reader 1: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?

Book reader 1: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? LYING TO THAT CHILD THROUGH YOUR TEETH?

Book reader 2: I WAS PROTECTING THEM!

Book reader 1: from what? Why shelter them? You know he is going to break their hearts eventually.

Book reader 2: AND when he does, we will be here to pick up the pieces. Because THAT is our responsibility. We are not going to shatter their dreams so early. Let them be naive for a bit....let them love.

Book reader 1: they will hate you more than they will hate me. For lying to them.

Book reader 2: so be it. If i can see them laugh now. That is enough. That is enough for me.

Book reader 3: i just think we should not give people spoilers.

Book reader 1: ITS BEEN ALMOST 2 DECADES!-

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word List: Book

beautiful words with "book" to try to include in your poem/story

Bookbag - a bag or sack (such as a knapsack) often with a handle or strap that is used for holding books and other items

Bookbinding - the art or trade of binding books

Bookend - a support placed at the end of a row of books

Bookery - archaic: library; bookstore

Booketeria - a self-service bookstore

Bookish - fond of books and reading; inclined to rely on book knowledge

Bookless - without books; having no books; unlearned, unscholarly

Booklist - a reading list of books having some unifying feature

Booklore - book learning

Bookplate - a book owner's identification label that is usually pasted to the inside front cover of a book

Booksy - affectedly or pretentiously intellectual

Bookwork - the manufacture of books as distinct from newspaper or magazine printing or from job work; work that involves the use of books

Bookworm - a person unusually devoted to reading and study

Daybook - diary, journal

Matchbook - a small folder containing rows of paper matches

Nonbook - being something other than a book

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read them!

More: Word Lists

[sansacherie]

imo it would have been really cool to introduce nettles in episode 7. like the others we would get a (even) younger version of her character.

depending on whenever they keep the nonplatonic attraction daemon has for her- if they do they're going to have to age up nettles so instead she's in her early twenties in episode 8. still a significant age gap and power imbalance but at least the icky aspect of netty age in f&b is removed.

anyway to introduce nettles obviously means getting a different version of episode 7 written in order to incorporate a scene of her but its not impossible. honestly, what i have in mind is that daemon while meeting with qarl sees a girl be taken away for thieving. the girl is defiant and swears at her accuser, and someone calls her netty.

not the greatest example but the point is how fun it would be for a nonbook reader to watch this scene not knowing just how instrumental nettles will be to later be surprised by her showing up years later to claim sheestealer. this is why i resent her seeming absence in s2. i don't know exactly what they'll do with baela but I hope they expand upon her storyline without taking away from nettles. nettles and baela are NOT interchangeable and don't deserve to be treated that way.

the same for rhaena and nettles and similar to what i said about those two, the problem with the show possibly letting baela take on nettles' role is that there's nothing surprising about her being a dragonrider. like both her parents were dragonriders, her grandmother was one, her uncle was one. her grandparents and great-grandparents. obviously not every targaryen will claim a dragon or indeed want to but looking at this its honestly inevitable that baela became one. you could call it fate but as for nettles it's the opposite imo which makes her becoming the first and last rider of sheepstealer so interesting

[poseidonsdaughterthesiren]

You're Losing–You Lost Me

A/N: So uhhh this experiemental. I'm trying to create Della and Luke's past. So obviously for my nonbooker readers...Spoilers. Ummm So we drift from Della to Percy to Luke's POVS and they're not all linear. Think of them as if you're sporadically going through memories.

Della sits by the lake as fireworks and torches flicker across the waves. In the distance, she hears a splash of water. Clarisse and a bunch of other campers toss her brother and her best friend into the lake. 

It’s about dam time he told her. 

Della smiles but it crumbles when she thinks about what she’s been through the last year and a half.  Her memories had recently all been fixed thanks to the Hypnos kid Clovis. She takes a deep breath…and meditates for a moment

⬳

Della opened her eyes to a dimly lit room. She tried to yell for help but realized her mouth was gagged.

Where is she? How did–the battle with the manticore, Dr. Thorn came rushing back to her. She and Annabeth tackled the beast as it fell over the cliff. Shit, Percy was going to kill her–if whoever captured her didn’t first.

“Well, well if it isn’t Della Jackson,” a voice called

Della stilled at the voice. She knew that voice. Luke. 

Luke creeped out of the shadows into the light. He smiled but it made Della flinch in terror. 

He looked pretty beat up. Good. 

Luke crouched down in front of Della. 

Della tried to scoot back from him but didn’t get very far. The rope around her ankles and wrists was also bound to a pillar. 

“Hey,” he whispered, I won’t hurt you. Trust me.” 

Della narrowed her eyes at him. 

Luke moved forward and reached behind her head. He undid the knot holding her gag and removed it. 

Della tried to scream but Luke placed a hand over her mouth. 

“Hey, no, come on now, none of that,” he whispered, “Besides no one will be able to hear you.” 

Della leaned back and glared at him. 

“Where am I?”

“Safe,” Luke said.

“Pfft, not with you I’m not.” 

“Del–”

“No, only my friends call me Del.”

“We are friends–”

“We were, past tense.”

Luke grinned at her. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“My offer still stands Del, you can be more–”

“No, no this isn’t you.” 

“Still don’t have your own opinion, still emersed in everything Percy believes.”

Luke leaned over maneuvered her ropes and pulled her towards him. He lifted her up and led her towards the darkness he emerged from.

“Come on,” he whispered in her ear, “time to see what we’ve been working on.”

Della felt shivers run down her spine. She hoped Percy would find her soon. 

⬳

Della and Annabeth were gone. They fell with the manticore–the only thing left of Della was Leda. Mom is going to kill him. 

Percy paced around as his thoughts tortured him. It had always been his job to protect her, and he failed. 

“Percy,” Grover said. He placed a hand on Percy’s shoulder. 

Percy shrugged the hand off. 

Thalia was pissed. She white-knuckled Annabeth’s Yankees cap.

“Percy, I’m sorry–” 

“No,” he snapped, “Don’t say you’re sorry for my loss. They’re not–She’s not dead.” 

“Percy,”  Grover said. There were tears in his eyes. “There’s no way they survived that and if they did, Luke–”

“No, they’re alive, I can feel it! They…can’t…she can’t be gone.” A tear escaped from his eye. 

No Della was alive. He couldn’t explain it–but he could feel it like a thread connecting them. And if Del was alive so was Annabeth.

“Percy Jackson,” Zoe Nightshade called, “Come with me Lady Artemis wishes to speak with thee.” 

⬳

Luke leads Della up a dark hill. There was little to no light. It was black but there were whisps of blue light. Black charred ruins are scattered almost as if there had once been a battle here. 

Della felt like she was in a demonic episode of Scooby Doo. Doesn’t help that Luke led her on a rope like a dog. Bet Scooby never used a leash. 

Luke paused near the crest of the hill. He turned toward her. 

“What I am about to show you,” he said, “Is your fate if you don’t cooperate.” 

His face twitched and sniffed almost as if he were about to cry but he stopped himself. He turned back toward the hill and pulled her rope hard. 

Della glanced around when she felt the air leave her lungs–at the top of the hill was Annabeth holding up what appeared to be an invisible ceiling. 

“Annabeth!” Della screamed. 

Luke yanked her rope and pulled her against him. He used his free hand to angle her head at the sight. 

Della closed her eyes as Annabeth screamed for her. 

“See that could be you,” he whispered, “but I think I have better use for you.”

Della choked back a sob refusing to open her eyes. 

“Della,” Annabeth groaned, “No let her…go” 

“Say bye to Annabeth, Del,” Luke said, “We’ll see her later.” 

“NO! ANNABETH!” Della yelled. She struggled against Luke. 

“Aww,” Luke cooed, “come on Siren, we have more work to do.”

Della screamed as he picked her up and led her away from Annabeth. 

“LUKE! LUKE!” Annabeth shrieked. 

Della sobbed as Luke dragged her away from her best friend. She felt spots flood her vision before everything went dark.

⬳

` Percy sulked into his cabin and threw himself on his bed. He rolled onto his side to stare at Della’s empty bunk. Nestled in her blankets was a plush blue whale who’d seen better days. Mr. Finn. Della’s favorite stuffed animal. 

How could Mr. D refuse to search for her or Annabeth? 

Percy sighed slipped out of his bunk and grabbed ahold of the whale. Its big black button eyes stared up at Percy. He pulled it close to his chest and squeezed. After a moment he placed him in his bunk. 

He heard water running. He looked around before in the back of the cabin he spotted a new item. A fountain–obviously a gift from Poseidon. 

Percy made his way to it and noticed it was heated as it created a mist with tiny little rainbows. He looked at the bottom to see it was full of drachmas. He realized what this was for. It was a reminder to keep in touch with his family. 

Percy scooped a coin out and ran his fingers along it. 

“Iris, oh Goddess of the Rainbow,” he said, “please accept my offering.” 

He knew he should call mom and tell her what happened, but he wasn’t ready for that yet. Until he knew more about where she was he was going to hold off telling Mom. 

He could call Dad, he hadn’t talked to him in two years. But could you call a god or would that be an insult? Besides, he had a feeling Poseidon knew about what had occurred only a few hours ago. Hopefully, if she asked for help Dad would be there.

He suddenly knew exactly who to call. 

“Show me Tyson,” Percy said, “At the forges of the Cyclops.” 

The mist shimmered to show his half-brother Tyson surrounded by fire. Tyson was bent on an anvil, hammering a red-hot sword blade. There was a marble-framed window behind him, and it looked out onto dark blue water–the bottom of the ocean.

“Tyson,” Percy yelled. 

He didn’t hear Percy at first due to the hammering and roar of the flames. 

“TYSON!” Percy yelled again. 

He turned his one enormous eye brightened. His face broke into a crooked yellow grin. “Percy!” 

He dropped the sword blade and barrelled at Percy trying to hug him. Percy lurched back. “Hey, Big Guy, this is an Iris message, I’m not really there.” 

“Oh, yes I knew that,” Tyson said. He seemed embarrassed for a moment. He then looked around Percy. “Where’s Della?” 

Percy’s smile faded. “She’s not here right now buddy.” 

“Oh, tell her I say hi! Tell Annabeth I say hi!” 

“Okay, Buddy will do,” Percy swallows the lump in his throat. “Hey Tyson, do you hear from Dad?” 

Tyson’s smile fell a bit. “Not much. Daddy is busy. He is worried about the war.”

“What do you mean?” 

Tyson sighed and placed the sword out the window, where it erupted in a swirl of bubbles. When he brought the blade back in the metal was cool and silver. 

“Old Sea Spirits making trouble. Aigaios. Oceanus. Those guys. They’re protecting the bad boat.” 

“The Princess Andromeda? Luke’s boat?” Percy asked. 

“Yes. They make it hard to find. Protect it from Daddy’s storms. Otherwise, he would smash it.” 

“Smashing it would be good,” Percy agree. 

Just not with Della or Annabeth on board. 

“Yeah. Don’t worry about bad boat. It is going away.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Panama Canal. Very far away.” 

Why was Luke all the way down there? Last theyd seen he’d been near the East Coast recruiting demigods with grievances against their godly parents. 

“Well that’s good I guess. Hey tell Dad I–” 

Before he could finish the message dissolved leaving him alone in the cabin again. Percy sighed and shuffled back to his bunk. 

He slipped under the covers and held Mr. Finn close. 

“Where are you Del?” He whispered before drifting off. 

⬳

Della opened her eyes to see she was nestled in a makeshift cot. She was wrapped in a thick blanket. She glanced around to see she was in a dimly lit room. Not like the apocalypse she’d been in earlier. 

There was the cot she was in. A small chestnut drawer, a desk, and the door. Whoever’s room this was they were a very extreme minimalist. 

She sat up and stretched when she realized her hands were untied. She froze–where’s Luke?

The handle of the door jiggled and opened into the room. Revealing the man in question. 

Luke closes the door behind him. And tosses a map on the desk before he turns to Della. 

“Oh, good,” he said, “You’re awake.” He sat at the end of the bed. 

Della examined his face. He looked like he’d aged ten years since the last time they’d seen each other. There were heavy streaks of grey Della could hardly see his black hair. 

Luke’s eyes were examining her.. 

“What happened?” She asked. She glanced down at the floor. 

“You blacked out,” he said as if it were obvious.

“Doesn’t explain why I’m in your room.” 

“You really don’t get it?”

Della glanced up at him. Her eyes narrowed. 

“You’re here,” Luke said, “Because you’re the key to winning this damn thing!”

“What do mean I’m the key?” Della yelled at him. “I thought Percy was your Golden Boy.” 

“It has become quite clear your brother will not join me, but you,” Luke said. He reached out to touch her cheek. “You could counter the prophecy. You could be mine.”

Della flinched at the contact. 

“A half-blood of the eldest gods

Shall reach sixteen against all odds

And see the world in endless sleep

The hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap–” 

“A single choice shall end his days. Olympus to preserve or raze,” Della finished. “I know but what that’s between you and Percy–”

“It would seem the fates have made it so, but with you by my side, it’d be an equal fight. Come on Del, I’ve seen how Percy treats you on quests.” 

“First,” Della said, “Quit calling me Del. Second, I’d never betray my brother. And Third, my brother loves me.” 

“Does he Della? I remember the last time I saw you two he treated you worse than the Cyclops.” 

Della looked down at her shoes. He had a point even on this last mission Percy had been a dick to her. 

Luke tucks a finger under her chin and makes her look at him. 

“It’d be you and I against the world.” 

Della doesn’t pull away this time. She’d always been attracted to Luke. The two of them against the world didn’t sound too bad. 

A loud ruckus stomped above them. Luke pulled back and growled in frustration. He then looks back at Della. “I’ll be back. There’s tea on the desk. He moved towards the door which clicked shut behind him.

Della sat up and on shaky feet grabbed the tea cup. She hobbled back into the cot pulled the blankets up to her chest and sipped her tea. 

What if she stayed? Switched teams. Maybe then people wouldn't doubt her ability. They’d always compare her to Percy she’d always known that. She’d finally get to be with Luke–then she thought about Annabeth in the invisible cavern–no she would never stay with him. 

The door opened again to reveal Luke. He didn’t look as pissed, but he certainly wasn’t pleased. “Change of plans I have a meeting to attend. But I’ll be back soon.” 

“Where–” 

“Doesn’t matter, but you’re going to stay here aboard the ship.” 

So she’s on the Princess Andromeda….her mind went fuzzy fast. Luke was just a blur when he left. 

“I’ll be back I promise Del.” 

⬳

“I should throw you in the pits of Tartarus for your incompetence,” the General said, “I told you to bring me the boy, not the scrawny Athena girl.” 

“But,” Thorn sputtered, “I brought you one of the Big Three’s children! I brought you the Daughter of Poseidon!”

“Hmmm,” the General nodded, “She may be useful…but right now she’s a prize to you Boy.” He looked straight at Luke. 

Percy felt his heart thrum in his chest. The girls were alive. What did he mean Della was a prize to Luke? 

He’d missed bits of the conversation when–

“Della will serve her purpose in time,” Luke said, “It just needs some pushing.” 

What the hell? I mean yeah Della was his twin but the prophecy referred to him–or at least they’d always assumed it was him–what was Luke doing to her? 

⬳

“Della, hey come on now Del,” a voice sighed. 

Della is met with the sight of Luke bending over worry evident on his face. 

He smiled a bit at her. “Hey Sleeping Beauty,” he cooed. 

Della grinned in response but then realized she didn’t remember falling asleep. “What time is it? I thought you just left–wait I’ve been asleep–what’ve you–” 

Luke’s face fell a bit as he tried to calm her. He pulled into him, 

“It’s okay, Della–hey it’s okay–”

“No!” she yelled. She pushed against him.  “What have you been doing–” 

Luke sighed he grabbed a bowl and passed it to her. 

“What is this?” 

“Oatmeal.”

“Is this magic oatmeal?”

“It’s apple-cinnamon.”

Della sniffed it and indeed it was apple-cinnamon oatmeal. She takes the spoon from Luke and eats a couple of spoonfuls. 

“There you go,” Luke said. He ran a hand through her hair. 

Whatever anger Della felt vanished. She couldn’t even remember why she was mad. She set the bowl down. 

“There you go Della,” Luke whispered. He took the bowl placed it on the floor and tugged her close to his chest. “I love you,” he murmured. 

⬳

“Ah, how touching,” A voice said. 

The group turned to see the General standing there in his brown silk suit. At his side was Luke and half a dozen dracaene bearing the sarcophagus of Kronos. Annabeth stood at Luke’s side. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, a gag in her mouth, Luke held the point of his sword to her throat. 

Percy met her eyes seeking answers. The only message was clear RUN!

“Luke let her go,” Thalia growled. 

“That’s for the General to decide,” Luke smirked, “But it is good to see you again though Thalia.” 

Thalia spat at him.

Percy whipped his around and realized someone was missing. 

“Where’s Della? Where is my sister?” He yelled. 

A tear escaped Annabeth’s eye. 

“Where is she?!” 

Luke’s smirk disappeared a single tear dripped down his cheek. 

The General however laughed. “She’s alive Son of Poseidon, for now. 

More tears sprung from Annabeth’s eyes she shook in Luke’s grip. 

Anger bubbled in Percy’s veins and he unleashed Riptide. 

⬳

Luke looked over the railing at the sea. They were just a bit away from the camp’s borders. He stretched and felt his back protest. He sighed, fighting Thalia was not easy to come back from. But the plan had to go. The concoction of poppy seeds and a drip of Lethe to keep Della here worked too well. He knew she liked him but–he didn’t think he’d catch feelings for her. He has to get her out of here before Kronos makes him do something awful–or even worse kill her. 

He went below deck and opened the door to his room to see her asleep just as he’d left her. Luke picks her up bridal-style. He carries her up to the deck. 

He drops her into the water and watches as she sinks. The Old Sea Gods push her back into Poseidon’s territory. 

⬳

When Della came to she was no longer in Luke’s room, no instead she was–well–she had no idea where she was. 

She was situated in an actual bed, not a cot. The room reminded her of the cabin her mom rented every year. The room was in natural beach tones. She could see a window encrusted with sea glass that looked out into blue water–wait blue water? 

Della sat up and slid out of the bed. The floor was freezing but she didn’t care. She was almost positive she was close to her Dad or at the very least Percy. She stumbled for a moment not used to being on her feet. 

There were two double doors a few feet away. Della grabbed a handle and bolted from the room. 

The hallway was fancier than her room, but the architecture told her all she needed to know–she was at her Dad’s place.

Two mermaids spotted her and gasped. 

“Miss Della you should be in bed,” one of them chastised. She had a shimmering pink tail. 

“I’ll go inform Poseidon,” the other said. Her tail was multicolored like the rainbow fish book. 

Rainbow Fish swished back down the hall they’d come from. 

Pink Tail swam towards Della and placed a hand on her forehead. 

“Well, you definitely look better,” she said. “You looked like death when the patrol found you.” 

“What do you–”

“DELLA!” a familiar voice boomed. 

“Tyson?” Della asked. 

The Cyclops tackled her in a giant bear hug. 

“Wait till Percy hears you’re okay! He’s been worried.”

Della hugs her half-brother back.

Percy’s been worried about her? 

“He was so sad when they didn’t find you!” 

“Alright Tyson,” Let her breathe there Kiddo.” A masculine voice laughed. 

“Dad?” Della breathed. 

Tyson let go of her. And moved out of the way. 

At the end of the hallways stood her father Poseidon. He looked similar to the last time she’d seen him. Same fisherman’s getup, the same beard, the same everything really–except now he looked incredibly exhausted. 

She moved towards him but stopped just a few feet in front of him. She didn’t really know what to say to him. 

“Hello, Della,” He smiled. He and Percy shared the same smile. “You’ve been so brave.” 

“Not that I’m not happy to see you but why am I here? I don’t remember–”

Poseidon’s smile fell. “There is much to discuss but you need to get home to your mother and brother.” 

“But–”

“I am very proud of you Della,” Poseidon said. He pulled her into a hug. This was the first hug she’d ever had with her dad. He held her similar to Mom–a hand at the back of her head and the other between her shoulder blades. 

“Never forget little Siren, you are my daughter, not just Percy’s sister.” 

⬳

“The sword, Della,” Annabeth muttered, “Your sword…Hero…cursed blade…” 

Della and Percy looked at each other. Percy nodded at her. 

Della looked at Luke his lip trembled. 

“Del…please…I’ll be good I promise…” 

Della felt tears stream down her face. 

She raised her sword but then she looked back at Percy. 

“Together,” she said. 

“Together,” he said. 

They passed the blade to Luke together. 

Luke without hesitation snatched Leda and he undid his chest plate. He aimed Della’s sword under his left arm and he stabbed himself. 

Leda, Della’s sword clattered to the ground as Luke fell backward. 

Della caught him before his head could hit the hearth. She cradled his head in her lap. 

“Del…” 

“Hey, no none of that,” Della whispered.

Annabeth, Grover, and Percy surround them. They crouch over the pair. 

“I–I’m sorry Beth…” 

“Shh, you were a hero at the end, you’ll go to Elysium.” 

“Did you love me?” he asked looking at Annabeth. 

“At one time but…you were always a brother to me.” 

He nodded and coughed red painted his lips. His eyes gazed up at Della. 

“Del, no matter how much I hurt you…I want you to know I meant it when I said…I love you.” 

Della’s tears cascaded on his brow. She leaned over and kissed his brow. 

“It’s okay…” he said, “it doesn’t hurt.” 

“Luke I love you.” 

He smiled up at her. His eyes went to Percy. Luke brought himself up a smidge and gripped Percy’s sleeve. 

“Ethan. Me. The other unclaimed, don’t let it happen again.” 

“I won’t I promise,” Percy said. 

“Good,” Luke breathed. He fell back into Della’s lap and his hand went slack. 

Della choked on a sob. Grover closed Luke’s unseeing eyes. Annabeth clutched onto Percy’s shoulder. 

“Percy…Della,” Their dad called, awe in his voice, “what…what is this?” 

Percy turned and faced the Olympians. 

“We need a shroud,” he announced, his voice cracked. “We need a shroud for the Son of Hermes.” 

Della tried not to scream. 

[lover-of-mine]

Annabeth: *gets stuck*

Hades: Someone turned invisible to steal the masterbolt

Nonbook reader fans: ANNABETH IS THE TRAITOR

Me: did you miss the shoes??

[aromantisk-fagforening]

Thinking about the "From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs". I obviously strongly believe this is a good way to divide up work and tasks and chores and property and services etc. I've been thinking about how to apply it on a personal level. When struggling to do things myself I've cooperated with others also struggling, and called it this. But I'm thinking I could apply it more to ownership.

I think one way to apply "to each according to his needs" is to think you should only own what you need. Sorta Marie Kondo style, although "need" may include fewer things than "sparks joy" does.

Now with yule/christmas it's best to wish for and buy things that are necessary anyway. Not luxuries like jewelry and a fourth video game console, but things like shampoo, clothes/shoes that need replacing or sewing tools (for mending). And for me I have most of what I need, so I tried wishing for just money to a charity in my name cause like, "to each according to his need". Unfortunately the people around me weren't all that excited about that. I have tried wishing for wool clothes, cause they're gonna be pretty ethically made (although possibly undersold in terms of value) plus long lasting (meaning less pointless consumption and better for the environment and by extension literally everything and everyone).

There's also just, the rest of the year/years/time. I have some stuff to donate cause for example I have books I own that I won't reread. That I'll probably donate or sell depending on things like whether any place will accept them. I think donating books to the salvation army is probably better than letting them rot in my ownership, serving no purpose at all (I won't reread every book). But I just need to figure out where they accept what. Also: what I even can/will give away. and yeah some can be sold, cause like, they're best off serving as many people as possible, even if that just means 2 people (me and the next owner). I also have nonbook stuff but yeah. That's pretty much the same deal. With clothes there are usually more options to give it away.

I do wonder if there are any things that I don't consider like "obviously donateable" that I should get rid off somehow. I was doing a Norstat survey the other day and it reminded me I own and have access to much I don't use at all. So I could probably get rid of plenty of things that I "think are nice", but ultimately don't use. Because how can it be a "need" if I don't use it?

Now I'll say I don't use the harshest way to apply this, which is saying you only need literally the bare essentials like food, clothes and hygiene. I do believe you can need to have fun and hobbies and such. Hence me specifying the "fourth console", being something obviously excessive. If you have three consoles and really want a fourth one you should probably at least sell one or three old ones ykwim? Fun isn't bad, but excess is way too normalized and encouraged. This topic could be expanded upon for ages, so I'll cut this short here. You know consumerism, classism etc.

Also yeah "from each according to his abilities" is a thing to apply. I mean this one is kinda simple to me. But like, yeah contributing both with like occupation (education/work) and generally in communities and socially. Volunteering, doing favors etc when able. And recognizing that sometimes you aren't able to do more, and some obstacles to contribution are immovable and that doesn't make you bad. You aren't "supposed to" do more than you are able to.

[briefly-enchanting-coffee]

I have very high expectations for Inejs trauma handling in S3 and this may be my downfall

I feel that in S2 jesper and Kazs traumas were touched on very well, I am Living for the storytelling and visual aid of kazs story, of the flashbacks and his reactions, I mean Freddy is killing it and shoutout to cinematography wowaza

But bc they're traumas are being done so well, im really expecting a lot for inej next season and I understand that they (Leigh and team) are probably struggling to find a way to do her traumas that aren't the standard profit from women's rape scenes. And I really appreciate the thought I feel is going into her background but I am really craving, especially for nonbook reader fans, to Understand her at her deepest level, she is such a profound and important character to me and I want her family, her kidnap and slavery to be abundantly clear that she was not sold, she was stolen. She represents so many real life stories and she is not just beautiful and deadly, she is soft and healing. Her leaving kaz and only having him "without his armor" is for Her worth that she has had to rebuild. And I guess I don't feel the show is taking the time to deliver that message like in the books. Don't get me wrong I screamed and giggled at that scene ("I will have you without your armor, Kaz Brekker") but in my humble opinion it was So Early in their on screen relationship, it felt devalued from the books.

Idk, that's all, yall know I'm a hoe for some chatting and discussions, lmk how you feel about S2 ♡

[stinkyhyena9000]

I am once again, making another impulsive purchase

EDIT: had to cancel my order because apparently the 5 dollar shipping is for books only, and the actual cheapest shipping i would have to do is 50 dollars 😭 (or atleast until the cheap shipping for nonbooks becomes available again)

[beingharsh]

At any rate, this pure formal redundancy of the signifier could not even be conceptualized if it did not have its own substance of expression, for which we must find a name: faciality. Not only is language always accompanied by faciality traits, but the face crystallizes all redundancies, it emits and receives, releases and recaptures signifying signs. It is a whole body unto itself: it is like the body of the center of signifiance to which all of the deterritorialized signs affix themselves, and it marks the limit of their deterritorialization. The voice emanates from the face; that is why, however fundamentally important the writing machine is in the imperial bureaucracy, what is written retains an oral or nonbook character. The face is the Icon proper to the signifying regime, the reterritorialization internal to the system. The signifier reterritorializes on the face. The face is what gives the signifier substance; it is what fuels interpretation, and it is what changes, changes traits, when interpretation reimparts signifier to its substance. Look, his expression changed. The signifier is always facialized. Faciality reigns materially over that whole constellation of signifiances and interpretations (psychologists have written extensively on the baby’s relations to the mother’s face, and sociologists on the role of the face in mass media and advertising). The despot-god has never hidden his face, far from it: he makes himself one, or even several. The mask does not hide the face, it is the face. The priest administers the face of the god. With the despot, everything is public, and everything that is public is so by virtue of the face. Lies and deception may be a fundamental part of the signifying regime, but secrecy is not. Conversely, when the face is effaced, when the faciality traits disappear, we can be sure that we have entered another regime, other zones infinitely muter and more imperceptible where subterranean becomings-animal occur, becomings-molecular, nocturnal deterritorializations over-spilling the limits of the signifying system. The despot or god brandishes the solar face that is his entire body, as the body of the signifier. He looked at me queerly, he knitted his brow, what did I do to make him change expression? I have her picture in front of me, it’s as if she were watching me … Surveillance by the face, as Strindberg said. Overcoding by the signifier, irradiation in all directions, unlocalized omnipresence.

"587 BC-AD 70: On Several Regimes of Signs", Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus