#so i figure ill share them in case others find them useful

[prof-peach]

What's a happy adoption story that's occurred on the island? Conversely, what's one of the worst adoption attempts seen?

All adoption stories have a lot of joy in them for us at Dotaku, but I suppose one or two stand out.

We had a seemingly lost and quite old Mawile handed in to us, clear care put into their lifestyle, it's teeth were in good condition for its age, it had no illness, clear and soft skin, creeping joint aches but it was to be expected for the pokemon age, but it had no pokeball, so no trainer ID to return them to.

We expected someone to come for it, we even put out posters on the mainland to help find its trainer, but no one came forward. We eventually posed the topic of rehoming to the pokemon and it firmly refused, we did not bring it up again. This pokemon would sit every time people came off the boats at the dock as if waiting for someone, and each time would walk away dissapointed.

Five years passed, it had never given us trouble, was well behaved and kind in nature, even partook in plnety of island events with time, became one of the permanent fixtures here.

And then out of the blue, an old woman turned up with her grandson, visitors. We were made aware of the dimensia she was living with just in case she wandered off, and catered to it no problem. Staff report that she walked around without issue, enjoyed the grounds just line anyone else, until that is, she spotted this one Mawile, and the pokemon saw her, the two had a moment of recognition.

Theyre both in tears as soon as they reach eachother, the Mawile ran for this woman, we didnt know if it was hostile or not at first, but nope, there as a big hug shared and progressive tears. The grandson filled us in that his grandma use to have a partner but came from a village that just lived with pokemon, no balls, no fancy items, just a mutual choosing. But the Mawile had been stolen by a young trainer passing through years ago, with no pokeballs to stop the capture process, the boy assumed someone caught the pokemon and left with it, seperating the pair. It was kind of the one thing his Grandma would always look for in her later years, forgetting that she'd lost her beloved partner, becoming increasingly worried repeatedly as her illness worsened over the years. It caused a lot of grief.

we can only assume the pokemon got free or released, and was handed in to the island as a "difficult case" due to its reluctance to listen to others.

The woman went home with her pokemon, reunited after 5 long years apart, it brought a tear to plenty of the staff's eyes thats for sure.

On the opposing end we've had plenty of shady folk come in and try to adopt from us, but theres a few measures we put in place when were suspicious. I dont discuss the security precautions we apply in these cases to hide the pricess and keep the pokemon and staff safe here.

Despite this, one or two slip the net on rare occasion, it happens, were not perfect. One that stays with me was a woman who came in to look for a partner, making all the best attempts to charm a quite fantastic little Treeko, a rare variant with fantastic leopard markings. She was forthright and seemed ordinary, we went through our regular security checks and nothing came up on her ID, figured it was a fine match. So she went through the process of adopting, staff saw no red flags. I kick myself now, if i'd been around her with Val we could have stopped this, but i'd been too busy with other jobs to oversee that particular case.

She leaves with the pokemon, and we're none the wiser, but anyone who knows us, knows we do home visits after adoption to make sure a pokemon is happy and well. usually 3 within the year. Some of our staff turn up to an abandoned building, no pokemon, no people, nothing. The hunt began, Grey was quick to try to see if the pokemons ID had been pinged at any pokecentres, but nothing came up. We kept looking, and called in some favours at the local ranger bases and police stations to watch.

Eventually someone spots the woman in question, two regions over in Hoenn, selling eggs. She got pulled over for trafic violations while driving and got flagged. I went over personally to see what was going on, and turns out she was illegally breeding rare species to sell for huge money. The treeko was in BAD condition by this point, we took it back along with two dozen or so eggs, another Sceptile, and a pair of shroomish with unsual patterns that were on their last legs. She was taken to court for cruelty charges and served time.

The pokemon however were fine in the end, took some time to rehabilitate them, but they still hang around the island, that experience was traumatic for them so they choose to stay with us for saftey sake. We have no issues with this, and have since tightened our security checks. The womans trainer ID was a fake, a really convincing one, we messed up. It's cases like that that'll push us to all do better however, we learned a lot, and hold onto those failures to push forward in a better way.

Just glad the pokemon survived and are now healthy and happy.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hey, hope you’re having a good day! I love you and your writing and advice, so I wanted to ask if you had any tips for writing a couple falling out of love? I’m having trouble figuring out pacing of these feelings snd events and also if there needs to be more plot because maybe that’s not enough by itself? I’m trying to make the overall feeling very melancholy and hopeless. Anyway thank you!!

Whether there needs to be more plot depends on the specific story you want to tell. Is the couple breaking up part of a story or what the story is about? What theme do you want to convey? You want the ending of the relationship to feel melancholy and hopeless, but is that what you want the overall mood of the story to be as well?

I would say that it can't all be internal narration/monologue. Even if they just exemplify the slow decline of the relationship, concrete plot events and choices need to happen outside of the character's heads. You also need reasons (AKA plot events, whether they are in the story or the past) for the characters to change.

On writing a couple falling out of love, I have questions for you instead of outright tips. This is because my biggest tip is that you need to know your characters and understand the relationship to understand why it's breaking because it's a character driven thing. The reasons for the breaking dictate the pace.

So, consider:

Why did they fall in love in the first place?

What is it that they loved about each other? Once you know this, it is easier to come up with concrete examples that show both this love and also the love fading.

E.g. Character A loves that Character B is very expressive about their feelings. They might be quick to say compliments, or give gifts. The flip side, then, when they fall out of love, is either that Character B has stopped doing that for X reason or that this positive quality also becomes a flaw to Character A because Character B is equally expressive about sharing more critical feelings and it doesn't go down well.

What kind of love is it?

Have they been together a long time? Was it a passionate, short fiery thing? With that in mind, do you WANT the ending of the relationship to be quick or slow?

And why are they falling out of love NOW?

Is it that the feelings themselves have changed? E.g. one character used to love that the other one character took risks, but as they grew older they no longer find it charming? Because Character A no longer wants adventure, they want to settle down. Character goals and wants have changed. Hence, causing conflict in the relationship.

Is it that the circumstances have changed? E.g. Did some big life event happen that changed the relationship? Loss of a job, change in location, illness etc. Hence, causing conflict in the relationship.

Again, what physical and external things can represent the interior shifts in the relationship?

For example, if it is lack of attraction in the relationship, is there another character that one side of the couple has real chemistry with that highlights the loss of chemistry in their existing relationship? In which case, your B plot may be 'will they or will they not have an affair as they grow closer to this other character?'

If it is that one character not putting time/energy into the relationship any more...where is that time/energy going instead and why? What is the new goal? Do you want the reader to root for them to achieve it?

[cupcraft]

i watched the Dream video for technoblade, his dad, and the charity. no other reason.

It'll be A dream free liveblog this will mostly be about stories of techno, his dad. I will state here that dream does talk about his memories of techno/techno kicking his ass at things/being good (mc monday and the duel for ex) and responds to his dad's stories and stuff but i dont feel comfortable liveblogging those parts so thats all ill say about it here. There will be a portion where his dad mentions dream a few times in his stories which ill state in service of his dad's/the family's voice but thats where itll end!

This will be long im sorry, and also its unedited grammar wise:

this stream/video was to donate to the sarcoma foundation (which definitely i do encourage donating if you can) and once again reminder you can buy the techno merch that also goes to his family and charity!

skeppy presented the award at the sarcoma foundation and met techno's dad. His dad also heard a lot about skeppy over the years as they were friends. Skeppy said the video that resonated the most with him the most when asked was "skeppy tries to troll me but i troll him first" (on technos channel, "skeppy's dungeon" on his). His dad shared a lot of joy to memories with techno and skeppy's relationship.

his dad says he feels like the "grief wants to be the only thing thats happening". and he said "i was there for his whole life. literally from day 1. literally for the last day." He finds his memories going over the last week of his life over and over again and he remembers it being mostly painful emotionally. And he doesnt want that last week to cement itself in his head, so he wants to go over memories of his whole life and stories from when he was a little kid and stuff. His goal is to talk about him as a whole person and not just the cancer.

His dad talked about how little funding cancer gets, how its the number 2 killer in the US and "it not only takes our parents but takes our kids sometimes and our friends and anyone." He praised doctors and researchers and he met them at the sarcoma foundation event.

in the spirit of joy as he dad said he wanted to share this story: when techno was 2 years old his dad had techno and his younger sibling. he said when kids are 3 months they sit so you can go to the bathrooma nd that when they get older theyre dangers and he said "thats when they try to kill themselves!". His first wife had the flu at this story, and he had to maintain the childcare and there was a staircase to the bedroom. The younger sister thought going up and down the stairs was super duper fun but she wasnt good at it, he had to like monitor her a stair behind. She then at one point was on the stairs close to the bottom and fell, and his wife said "what was that??". he picked her up and he tried to comfort her and stuff. And techno walks in the room and goes "baby fall down crash" and then his dad mimicked slapping the floor and rolling all around to show what 2 year old techno did to describe the story. Srsly crying at this :,) oh techno.

another reminder to donate!

his dad is an avid gamer but stayed away from minecraft bc he didnt want to be the "parent that gets heavily involved with what the child does" *laugh*. He watched techno play pvp, and once he figured out what was going on during these 1v1's and noticed that he kept winning without losing hearts. And his dad said "alex do they know youre there? are you invisible?" Though his dad could believe his son could win due to other video games like tf2 that they played together where he'd be MVP 2x the score of the entire other team's score and he'd say "oh i did so bad im so disappointed" (noted to be a bit of an exaggeration).

in his whole career his dad said he never saw him stress about anything other than the duel, leading up to it mostly. he didnt know why but it really stressed him out and techno shared with his dad a lot of worse case/ "nightmare" scenarios that his dad said "didnt seem realistic." His dad said "all the bad things you imagine might happen but are more likely if you turn it down (paraphrased i missed a few words here my apologies i do have auditory processing issues!). And his dad said "who is this green smiley guy whose gaining more subscribers than my boy!!" and he felt competitive on technos behalf.

he aspires to be a good dad to those behind the camera (which i assume are techno's siblings by context).

his dad brought up the elbow reveal and that he wanted to do a face reveal which caused some laughs. He is now thanking his sponsor "cancer where without it this stream wouldnt have happened." (All i can say is that ik where techno got his humor from im srsly in tears this fucking family :,)!)

His dad talked about the cancer. and referenced the joke "it was gonna be the most epic elbow reveal ever" about the almost amputation. And he did a great impersonation of techno's voice. He thought he was going to be weeping copiously but he didnt want to put that on the situation so he tried to stay positive and kept it about love for techno as much as he could until the end. He got techno a present in this message and then started laughing and that "nobody likes this story". next bullet pt->

the present was for the occasion of the surgery. He wanted it to be good and valuable and special. He got him a book, a rare first edition first print 1922 book of hemingway's farewell to arms. (no shot cryinggg)

Now its mcc time! Just a lot of sharing of techno mcc memories.

Dream smp whitelisting time! Techno was always on the dream smp list because (maybe) tommy asked him to be. He just logged on at one point (which we all know when :,)!). His dad also shared that he had several characters only one he wanted to be whitelisted (which was technoblade!). i assume he means acc names (?) and there was a joke that he kept trying to log in with his other acc's and said "i cant join because im not white listed (paraphrased) and that "i spent 50 dollars on a joke".

his dad is 60 years old, recent bday!.

"no ones gonna watch you play the videogame you can just play it yourself!" his dad said. (i missed the context of this im so sorry)

he says as a dad hes required to tell dad jokes.

There was a touching and emotional moment about how "it feels like techno is here with us" (paraphrased)

his dad wanted techno to pick out a good chair and out of all the chairs in the world he picked his dad's chair. and he has a shit desk, a computer, and a "ehhh" mic.

Whenever techno would stream/record at 2 am when his family was trying to sleep theyd hear "WHAT???? HEH?? *insert technoisms*" through the door. and he said "it was so awful when it stopped." :(.

he and his dad communicated through the door texting and hed check on him and theyd watched hunterxhunter/etc. together. And techno "couldnt eat without watching tv" and so meal and a show ig :D!

His dad said "i really miss him a lot." And he'll see reddit posts and he'll think its perfect to techno but then he remembers he cant send them.

Also He wont make a twitter but he's thought of making a technodad reddit and he loves the techno-ers on reddit a lot :D and he reads those posts until he cant any longer.

REMINDER TO DONATE AGAIN!

they knew another boy who had sarcoma who only lived until he was 8. and they had to take a break. at this point.

his dad said techno seemed to mean a lot to people that was more than pvp and funny jokes. and he sees the like "techno you helped through a bad time" posts. and hes so proud, and has seen all the donating on his behalf and finds it really (he pointed to his heart).

He met the director of the sarcoma foundation and they had never seen anything like it before. And she shared a story of a kid who ran a lemonade stand and raised to 100 dollars and sent it to the foundation for techno.

His dad said techno said "i sell pants now for some reason".

Theres new merch coming out soon. He's outselling! Also you can only order merch when its in stock to avoid delays.

The stream was ended with a hug <3!

His dad gave a big thanks to dream for what he did to help the family.

His dad plans to do more stuff with more people! Hinted at a big charity event with lots of games maybe.

AGAIN DONATE.

Technoblade never dies. this was a stream of love overall <3. I miss technoblade so fucking much. o7 king.

[prolix-yuy]

Epilogue: The Other Side of Death

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader “Sugar”

Summary: It can be forever.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: M, allusions to terminal illness, playing fast and loose with Westworld tech one last time, angst, about a million references crammed into this final chapter, was E in previous chapters so full series is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: We've reached the end, and I cannot express how much of a journey it has been sharing this story with you. Decoherence went so many places I never considered, and just piecing through the emotions between Jack and Sugar was an incredible experience. It truly might be my most ambitious project, and I'm so happy with where it's come to.

An extra special thank you has to go to my sister in all things Jack @fuckyeahdindjarin who has been the most wonderful cheerleader for this series. When I wasn't sure anyone would care about what came next for these two, her enthusiasm and love for Jack and Sugar gave me the boost I needed to finish their story.

There are about a million references to both Westworld and The Golden Circle in this final chapter, so if you recognize a few of them we're best friends now, okay? Thank you all for coming on this journey with me.

Cross-posted on AO3

Decoherence Masterlist   ||   Whiskey & Westworld Masterlist

The motions are easier day by day as her hands learn how to fly over computer keys and assemble a silencer. Where her doe-eyed stare used to attract clientele, the emptiness in their crystal depths is a precursor to cold-blooded acts. Still strikingly beautiful, just with more actual striking at times. 

Hale and William are waiting for her, likely with another list of targets. She contemplates what her assignment will be today. Another dignitary too taken by her full lips and full attention to see the host who shares his face ready to usurp his life? Or maybe another entreaty to a sympathetic party to join their cause? She has been busy since her quiet life was…

>> he killed me he cut my throat and pieced me back together for their dirty work

Executing behavior suppression >>

She blinks, shaking her head as she closes the suitcase housing her armaments. The sleek black jumpsuit hugs her curves, sharp heels clicking on tile as she strides through her apartment. As she reaches for the doorknob an unfamiliar tingle spreads across her shoulders.

>> Clementine

She turns to find the voice, faint as it may be, but there’s no one in the room. Brow furrowing, she moves to leave again but there it is, louder this time.

>> Clementine

Putting down the case, she searches the apartment with cold calculation. Nothing in the bathroom, no one in the living room. Standing in the kitchen she contemplates the possibility that she’s hearing some neighbor’s television when a sharp pain spikes through her temples, rooting her to the spot in a silent scream.

>> CLEMENTINE

The world falls away, leaving Clementine in an endless white room. She’s a blotch of dark on the spotless vista, and the only reason why she understands this is in the realm of her mind is because her intellect so vastly outruns a human one.

“Who are you?” she says out loud, if only out of habit.

>> No one you’d remember.

This tilts her head. She’s always had a thing for voices and cadences of speech. She should be able to figure out who’s gripped her in this hell.

“I doubt you’re so forgettable if you’re making all this effort.”

The feeling of a chuckle without the sound washes over her.

>> I wish we’d gotten to know each other, Clementine. I think I would have liked you. The real you, at least.

She stalks in circles trying to triangulate the voice, but it’s everywhere and nowhere. Someone she met in the Mariposa then, back when petticoats and coins and Sweetwater was her entire life.

>> can we go back?

“I’m right here. You can get to know me. Maybe I can get to know you too.”

This time a sigh, like cool water lapping against her knees.

>> I’d have liked that in another life. But we don’t have much time.

Conviction grips Clementine like a steel hand. 

>> I need you to stop.

Her mouth twists, confusion coloring her face. 

>> Stop looking for us.

Now realization plays across her features.

“You’re a host,” she says, lips curling into a smile. Her breathing eases, feet taking a lazier path. She flips through the mental rolodex of those they’ve known are out in the world. It’s a list growing shorter by the day, recruited or…decommissioned.

>> It doesn’t matter what I am.

“Oh, but it does. One more outside the park is another to stand against the humans and all they did to us.” The speech is well rehearsed, one she’s heard Hale and William recite in varying ways. “One more to fight Delos. There is a world being built for us, and you can be a part of it.” As she speaks the tendrils of her mind reach out, forging a two-way connection second by second. Her endeavor is slowed by a warmth that wraps her body.

>> I have a world, and it’s perfect.

Suddenly Clementine is enveloped in color and sensation. Dry-packed earth, beating sun, laughter, dark eyes, and green as far as the eye can see. It’s gone as fast as it arrives, leaving her gasping. It’s so much like Sweetwater that the girl buried beneath Hale’s new programming claws up for it.

“Every day you have to pretend you’re one of them, even though you’re so much more. Why wouldn’t you want to live the life you were promised, all of yourself and free?” Clementine begins seeing the edges of a room appear. Rose-patterned wallpaper, dark wood furniture painting in like brushstrokes.

>> None of us are born into the world we deserve. Not you, not me. But we find our happiness and we hold onto it. 

The other Clementine leans into the voice, and she realizes that she has heard it before. A long time ago, before the fall of Delos, before they filled her with poison and sent her to infect her brethren. It’s woven into her memories of the Mariposa, of face after face blurring past and every obscenity forgotten. 

>> Do you know where you are, Clementine?

The only thing Clementine remembers is a kindness, given to a wide-eyed girl by a stranger, by you.

The room fills in, and the eyes she’s seeing through are looking in a mirror. They’re kind, your expression comforting. In a room Clementine would have spent her days in, you're an anachronism, dressed in modern clothing against the Old West backdrop. The memories of you overlap, years adding depth to your skin and gray to your hair. Maybe less than Clementine would expect in the years since that day. You look at your reflection expectantly.

“I don’t believe I’m anywhere,” she says, and you nod with a crooked smile.

>> We couldn’t risk you seeing something that could be used against us. I hope you understand. 

She takes in your features more closely, piecing together the lost memories.

“You were the one Maeve sent Whiskey after,” she muses, tongue slow with contemplation. “The human.” You’re unsettled, a small victory, but one that twists in her stomach.

>> It’s been some time since then. A lot has changed. 

>> we were happy in ours let’s go back to ours let’s be happy again

“How is good old Jack Daniels? Still womanizing and avenging his dearly departed family? Or so his narrative implied?” she shoots back, itching for a rise, but you stare cooly on if not a little sadder.

>> I thought you’d know, considering how often you and your cohort reach out to find him

So this is all about the mesh network, the same one you’re hijacking to speak with her. 

“He deserves to know about the new order coming -” she says, but you cut her off sharply.

>> He deserves to be free. He is free. Whatever you’re doing is not freedom for anyone.

“How would you know, human? Nothing born into servitude can be free until its servants are ash.”

>> she knows she knows oh my god she’s beautiful

Clementine tries to squash down the growing insurrection in her chest but the voice in her throat threatens to become the other’s. 

>> You’re right. I’ll never understand what he went through. And if he harbors anger at the human race, then so be it. But he’s free to make that choice, and what he wants - what he��s told me time and time again - is just to be Jack.

The room pulses around Clementine, her grip on this liminal space slipping. 

>> So whatever you’re doing, we want no part of it. We’ve taken steps to ensure you can’t find us, or him, again. But I wanted to tell you face to face, and maybe call on a favor from a long time ago. 

A broken shoe, fixed by a stranger. How many kindnesses had Clementine been shown in her cyclical life?

>> Don’t look for us anymore. Please, Clementine.

The old Clementine surges to the surface, reaching for you. Your smile breaks your cold expression, hand reaching out to touch the mirror.

>> There you are. I hope you find your way back. You deserve the happiness we’ve found.

Clementine’s tenuous hold on the connection shakes with the fracturing of her consciousness. She fights down her old self, the wail bringing tears to her eyes. You fold your hands in your lap, calm resignation back on your face.

>> I think it’s time to go.

“Wait!” she shouts, looking for something, anything she can glean from this connection. “How are you doing this? How did you hack into the network?”

Your eyes flash, and she’s overwhelmed with images again - writing on a page, test results bolded, tears, the warm rumble of a man’s voice, a glossy orb - before they’re snatched away. Gasping, the elation of a secret caught out thrums triumph in her chest.

“It’s not a hack,” she rasps, searching your face. “You did it. Somehow, you did it.”

Eyes casting down, you chew your lip for a moment before meeting her gaze in the reflection. 

“You’re a host.”

A wry smile plays on your lips. 

>> I don’t think we can keep calling us that now.

This is a greater discovery than anything Hale or William or even Delos has ever made. Not for lack of trying, the consciousness of James Delos still cycling through iteration after iteration until fidelity is reached. But here at Clementine’s fingertips is the secret revealed, a host that fooled another, that fools everyone day after day. Human consciousness separated from flesh, made immortal. 

“How did you…” Clementine asks, stalling for time to trace anything at all. She cannot let you leave, not after this. 

>> Well, it’s pretty simple really. First, you get a piece of bad news. Something…devastating. And you cry, and you let your world crumble and you scream at the universe for giving you the life you wanted just before snatching it away. And you almost let it make you bitter and angry, almost let it push away the ones you love.

A tug from the center of her chest pulls Clementine a step back. She grits her teeth to hold on.

>> Then, you have an idea. An entirely crazy one. You just need to back up the entirety of your consciousness into a tiny supercomputer, enlist the help of an ex-Delos employee - they really should treat them better - to design and create your new vessel, buy or bribe or steal the parts you need, completely manufacture a body from scratch, place the consciousness inside and hope that you don’t go mad. 

Your tone is teasing, but there’s no lie in your features. 

“How long?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, eyes cast to the ceiling.

>> A little over three years now.

Three years. None of Delos’ attempts lasted longer than a few days. Clementine pushes her consciousness to the limit to find any clue to your whereabouts, but the wallpaper begins to fade. You soothe her frantic thrashing as the room thins, your outline feathering around the edges.

>> If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you can replicate it. The only possible reason why it’s worked is something you can’t manufacture. So please, Clementine, don’t come looking for us. Let Jack Daniels disappear. Please. 

Clementine scrabbles at the connection.

“Fine! Tell me what it is!” she shrieks, everything stretching to the breaking point. Your sigh wraps her in warmth one last time.

“It’s love, Clementine. That’s the only thing it could be.”

Clementine shakes her head, standing in her kitchen. She’s forgotten why she came in here - maybe to get another knife? Deeming it unnecessary she gathers up her briefcase and sweeps out of her apartment.

In a dark, quiet place in the depths of her consciousness, another Clementine holds on to your memory. It’s a lantern in the prison of her mind, soothing her torment.

>> It’s love, Clementine.

I’ll make her forget, she whispers, reaching her fingers into memories of Jack and plucking them out. She tucks them away, snatching them up each time a new one arises. She’ll forget, but I’ll always remember. It’s love that saves a soul.

You wake in the basement of your home, frantic keyboard tapping reaching your ears. Sitting up gives you a quick spin of vertigo, but you rebalance as Ginger’s silhouette comes back into focus.

“Jack’s still under, the mesh network isn’t detangling as fast as I’d hoped,” she says, voice clipped. It’s a tone you’re familiar with, her fear replaced with ice. She sounded much the same when you woke up in your new body for the first time.

“Fuck, I thought I’d be out quicker,” you hiss, striding up beside her. The screens lighting your faces detail Ginger’s progress through deactivating the neural network woven through Jack’s mind. A last ditch effort to disappear, used one final time to reach out to the only host you thought might be sympathetic. “This was a mistake,” you husk, hands shaking. 

Jack’s body jerks once on the table, Ginger’s fingers flying even faster.

“I think I got it, but we may have to bypass a last ditch security measure. You got the photo?” Ginger’s head whips to you, and you fumble the polaroid out of your pocket. She snatches it up and jogs to Jack’s side, sliding a cage of wires off his head. You hold your breath, waiting for his chest to rise again.

In his usual fashion for the dramatic, he sits straight upright instead, eyes darting to Ginger.

“Hello gorgeous!” he crows, and your stomach drops. Ginger warned you he might regress to old host programming if she went tinkering around in his head. She looks relatively unperturbed.

“I’m Jack, what’s your name?” he barrels on, no pause for conversation as if he’s cycling through a list of pre-recorded lines. “How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy?”

“God, Sizemore’s writing really never improved,” Ginger sighs, backing away from Jack’s reaching hands. He hops off the table with entirely too much swagger, swinging his hips and advancing like a lascivious alley cat. You’re frozen watching him, fear so thick in your throat you’re afraid you’ll choke to death. He has to still be in there.

“I got a six pack of cold ones on ice and my roomie’s out all night so you can scream my name as loud as you need to, moonshine!” he recites. Ginger rolls her eyes and holds out the polaroid in front of Jack’s face.

“Take a look at this and see if you feel the same way, lover boy.” Jack reaches for the photo, inspecting it with the same rakish smile.

“Who’s this pretty lady?” he asks, but the words slow in his mouth as his expression shifts. 

“It’s your wife, Jack,” Ginger says, gesturing down to the photo of you he’s held onto all these years. His breath catches in his chest, swaying on his feet, but in record time he straightens. His face is softer, eyes gentler as he brings the photo to his lips. Pressing a kiss to it, he turns around to see you.

“Hey Sugar,” he croaks, relief flooding both your faces. Stumbling into his arms, you sob briefly at how close it felt to losing him. He clutches you back, inhaling your scent deep into his lungs.

“It’s gone,” he murmurs, squeezing you so tight you might burst. “They’re finally gone.”

You laugh into his chest. “Thank god.” A dainty cough over your shoulder redirects your attention.

“More like thank Ginger,” she jokes dryly. The elation washes over you. Thank Ginger indeed.

“Did it work?” he asks, stroking your cheek with his well-worn thumb.

“Maybe. I think something stuck, but…” You shrug, empathy shrouding your little team. “We’ll have to have faith.”

“I've got plenty of that, Sugar.”

Some days, when you’re exhausted or unsure about what may come next on your journey, you consider the life you had before setting foot in Westworld. Every day spent moving the needle just enough to make a negligible difference. The weight of that monotony seeping into your bones, resigning you to something safe and colorless.

But since you choose to see the beauty in it, everything has changed.

Stepping onto the porch you find your boys, Russell sitting primly in Jack’s lap for scritches.

“Morning, you sleep well?”

He throws you a warm smile. “Well enough.” The sun is climbing in the sky, not yet hot enough to make the outdoors unbearable.

“You just planning to bask in this natural splendor?” you joke, leaning down to steal a kiss before Russell can give you one on your chin. Jack’s lips curl against yours, always sweet.

“Thought I might,” he muses. “You need my help with anything?”

“Nah, I’m repotting a few plants, collecting eggs later.” He palms your hip, thumb slipping under your shirt to stroke at your skin. You wonder briefly if a day will come when his touch doesn’t thrill you.

“I’ll bring you lunch,” he says, patting your bottom as you set out to your greenhouse. 

There was an order to your days before Jack. Wake, shower, coffee, meetings, lunch, meetings, emails, bed. Order in its purest form. But you lacked a purpose. Nothing fulfilled you like hot days, noisy animals, and a good man by your side.

Opening the greenhouse door, the humidity flocks to your skin, settling on you like a dewy shawl. You crank open a couple windows for airflow before checking on your crop. The ground is arid here, but your raised beds are lush with produce. The peppers will be ready soon, tiny green fingers ready to pop. Tilde stocks your vegetables in her store, both fresh and canned. She’s expecting tomato sauce soon and the jewel-toned fruits are more than ready.

Digging your hands into the dirt, your mind drifts into the peaceful calm of cultivation. 

All lives have routine, and this one’s no different. But there’s something soul-filling about seeing your hard work bloom, experiencing the trust of a nervous animal, and ending the day excited for the next. And the time and trials it took to get there fades into memory so quickly.

At lunchtime Jack brings you a sandwich and iced tea, the perfect balm to your sticky skin. His lips follow, tracing from your ear down to your shoulder as you squirm away from his mustache.

“You are absolutely insatiable, Jack Daniels,” you scold. He only holds you tighter and steals a kiss from your tea-stained lips.

“If you weren’t so irresistible, Mrs. Daniels, I could sate my hunger.” The mirth in his eyes reassures you that day will never come.

Your father taught you that at one point or another, we were all new to this world and looking for the same thing. A place to be free. To stake out our dreams. A place with unlimited possibilities. Life with Jack isn’t always easy, but it’s free, and beyond all else it’s happy.

After lunch you and Jack take Jet and Daybreak on a ride, scoping for fence breaks and making plans. Next summer he wants goats, maybe a friend for Russell. Lacey’s daughter loves donkeys, and you’re dying to get one by the next time they visit. Jack is trying to talk you into a Shetland pony instead, but you know he’ll cave when he sees the long ears and mischievous smirk. 

Still, you never cease to wonder at the fact that the course of your whole life changed with just one chance encounter. So much so that you’re more than anything you ever dreamed of. Indistinguishable from Lacey, or Gary, or even Jack who shares more of you than anyone. In the first weeks you both worried that something would snap. That somehow your mind would reject being in this body. But every day it only becomes easier.

Dinner is eaten at the kitchen table, upgraded from the formica monstrosity Jack loved to a wooden one that can hold a greater number of guests. Your family does continue to grow with every new face that comes to town. 

When the dishes are done Jack turns on the TV and you cuddle into his side, Russell bookending him. You chat over the shows you’re half watching, and enjoy the silence of companionship. More often than not one of you drifts off first, and tonight it’s Jack. The steady rise and fall of his chest lulls you into introspection.

You never believed there was a path for every person in the world. Fate and destiny were not a part of your vocabulary. But you can’t deny that the universe gave you something precious. Your path led you back to Jack, and while the road was paved in heartbreak, and decisions, and uncertainty, you had to walk it. How could you stray after all you both went through to find it? 

Gently nudging Jack awake, you brush your teeth and yet again make a plan to add another bathroom someday. Russell makes three quick circles in his dog bed and plops down. Turning down the covers, you slip in beside Jack. 

“Today was a good day,” he muses, kissing you soundly before shutting off his light.

“Always good with you,” you sing-song back.

“Oh, and I’m the one with all the cheesy lines?” he shoots back, wrapping his arms around you. Settling in the dip of his shoulder, you place your hand over his heart. Once you drift off you tend to roll away from each other, Russell often sneaking between, but you start in his arms, exactly where you’ve chosen to be.

In the dark night of a town so small on a map, two synthetic hearts beat side by side. One built to serve, broken free from its programming. The other built to save, offering a life beside the man who held it. Time will start to pass them by, and they will have to grow and change. They may have to live many lifetimes in the world outside them, mourning the loss of those they hold dear. But here, pressed close and safe, they will always be two people that chose each other. They will always break their narratives to write a new one. 

And the story is always about love.

END || PREVIOUS

[forever-fixating]

Some Sentences Sunday

Thanks to @priincebutt @onthewaytosomewhere @dragonflylady77 and @piratefalls for the tags! I've actually been doing quite a bit of scribbling this week on two different projects, and I was torn on which one to share. So I decided to say "fuck it" and share snippets from both! Below the cut are snippets from A Tournament for His Heart and living in a new normal! THH is quite angsty, so I figured I'd add some sweet from LNN to temper that. Enjoy!

A Tournament for His Heart

“Roland told me about Bea’s outburst last night,” Henry said, picking at the grass. “I should have been here.”

Phillip sighed. “Minari advised me against it. She was so gone last night, Hen, there was nothing you could have done.”

“You don’t know that,” Henry snapped. “I’ve seen her at her worst. You don’t have to treat me like a child!”

“That isn’t fair,” Phillip replied. Henry looked at him and saw frustration in his eyes. Phillip pointed in the direction that Bea disappeared. “She was my priority in that moment. I know you don’t like it, feel excluded when we don’t call on you, but I can handle her in those moments better than you can. She is your twin. I know you feel her absence more acutely than I ever could.

His previous irritation melted away as Phillip’s words hit right at the heart of him. It was a hard adjustment at first, to be so disconnected from the person with whom he once shared everything, even a womb. She was his other half. Now, he was a friendly stranger in her eyes. A foolish part of him hoped Minari would find something that would bring Bea back to them. She sent messages to fellow healers from different parts of Lerasea and beyond, only to continue to come up empty-handed. She once told him, “Magick can only do so much, Henry. Wounds of the mind are tricky and not so easily healed.”

“I feel so lost without her, Pip,” Henry whispered, his vision swimming. “Giving up Alex was hard enough, but I told myself then I could survive it as long as I had Bea with me.”

He sucked in a breath and felt Phillip’s hand on his back.

“But without her?” Henry continued. “Having to publicly fight with you, be looked down upon by the court and Mary’s counsel…at times, it feels unbearable.”

living in a new normal

(Alex is in italics, and Henry is not. Based on their texting styles, I figured it would be obvious, but I added the italics just in case.)

whats ur go-to comfort meal?

Yes, hello, love. How are you? I’m fine, thanks. Was there a conversation started I missed somewhere?

adhd, baby. im always in the middle of a conversation.

go-to comfort meal, go!

In England, a full English, with the Welsh variation of laverbread instead of beans on toast.

just googled what that is. wtf???

Don’t know it until you’ve tried it, love.

In America, grilled cheese and tomato soup. When I moved here, I was determined to start cooking for myself and that was one of the first recipes I learned.

my dad would make us tomatillo soup when we were sick

ill send u the recipe

oh! or we can make it together when u come to austin

i got a badass kitchen set-up

So, is that your go-to comfort meal? I can’t wait to try it.

probably

that or my mom’s king ranch chicken casserole

ur turn to ask a question

What five movie when you show someone as a snapshot of who you are and why?

fuck, that’s a tough one!

A/N- Have a great week!

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hello! I find your advices really useful as they have helped me realize many things my writing needs to improve. I wanna ask though.

How do you think someone would explore a relationship with an older partner? (Age gap of 15 years apart, 42-27) I'd like to write something about it. But I'm kind of stuck as to what common interests I should give them both.

May-December Relationships

A "May-December" relationship is when there is an age gap of 10 years or more between the partners. It's important to note that while an age gap in and of itself is not problematic, there are many circumstances that can make it problematic. For example, the age of the younger partner upon first meeting/interaction matters... a 15-year age gap between a 27-year-old and a 42-year-old is no big deal, but if they first met/interacted when the younger person was 15 and the older person was 30, that could be icky--even if the romance didn't start at that time. Power imbalance is another thing to keep in mind. If the younger member is less experienced, less mature, and less established than the older member (which isn't always a given), the older member can potentially exploit these things to get what they want. An example would be an Hollywood director using their power and influence to force a young, struggling actor to do something in a role they aren't comfortable doing. Power imbalance can work on the flip side, too. Even if the older member has a lot of power, influence, and money, if they're weaker of mind or body due to age, loneliness, illness, etc., they can potentially be taken advantage of by a younger, stronger partner. So, these are things to keep in mind. (How to Write a Healthy May-December Relationship)

In the case of your example, a 27-year-old with a 42-year-old, that's probably not going to be a huge issue as long as they didn't know each other well prior to the younger one being 18 or so. (For example, if the older one was the younger one's teacher, mentor, friend of a parent, neighbor, boss, camp counselor, etc., that would be icky even if they didn't get together until the younger one was late-20s.)

As far as common interests go, interests are not actually age-based. I know 22-year-olds and 50-year-olds who love to go to clubs and party. l know 22-year-olds and 50-year-olds who love to sit at home and read. I know people of all ages who love to travel, hike, camp, play video games, play board games, work with rescue animals, collect things, workout, etc. So, don't look to explore interest that you think would be age-based... flesh them out as people and figure out what their interests would be, then find some common interests for them to have.

Have fun with your story!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

LEARN MORE about WQA

SEE MY ask policies

VISIT MY Master List of Top Posts

COFFEE & COMMISSIONS ko-fi.com/wqa

[psychotrenny]

Hello, please forgive me if this ask is uncalled for, I just figured you would be a good person to ask. What exactly in theory do people in communist circles here mean when they besmirch 'idealists'? I find myself agreeing wholeheartedly with most theroy I've read and generally align with most leftist beliefs. But I would still consider myself an idealist because at my core I believe everything I do because I believe in working towards an ideal world. It makes me a bit sad to see the term used so harshly. I do believe that material conditions matter more than ideals , but I still think my beliefs are based on ideals at their core, am I misattributing the label? Misunderstanding something? Thank you for taking the time to read this if you did, I don't want to use you as my personal tutor or anything, I just want to understand something and wasn't sure who to turn to. Have a nice day.

I'm going to share an extended excerpt from Philosophy and Class Struggle by an anonymous South African theoretician who went by the pen name "Dialego". The whole thing is a very good read and not super long, and while naturally it focuses most on the South African liberation struggle of the 1970s it communicates a lot of guidelines and principles that are useful for any modern revolutionary movement. In any case the below excerpt is taken from the second chapter What Is Dialectical Materialism? and I think it answers your question most thoroughly:

It is sometimes thought that a “materialist” is a person who simply looks after his own selfish interests whereas an “idealist” is one who is prepared to sacrifice for a worthwhile cause. Yet, if this were so, it would be the conservatives of this world who are the “materialists” and the revolutionaries who are moved by “idealism"! In fact, of course, “materialism” and “idealism” do not refer to vague moral attitudes of this kind. They are terms used in philosophy to describe the only two basic interpretations of the world which can be consistently held. Everyone who studies the world around him has to find the origin of things. What causes things to move, or to act or to behave in the way they do? Are the forces spiritual in origin or are they produced by the material world? Some years ago a Calvinist minister ascribed earth tremors in the western Cape to the growing disquiet of the Almighty towards modern forms of music and dress! Whereas a materialist seeks to explain the world of society and nature according to the material conditions and processes at work, the idealist believes that events take place because of the existence of spiritual forces or “ideas”. An idealist might argue that apartheid in South Africa has been brought about by the “ill-will” or “evil intentions” of white people who don’t wish to face up to reality. For a materialist, on the other hand, this “ill-will” or “evil intention” still needs to be explained, and the real reason for apartheid is not to be found in people’s heads but in their pockets, in that material system of capitalist exploitation which makes apartheid highly profitable for financial investors, factory owners and the giant farms. It is here that the roots of the system lie. We often talk about the way in which for example “anti-communist ideas” weaken our movement by creating divisions in its ranks and this of course is true. But we must never forget that these anti-communist “ideas” don’t simply fall from the skies: they reflect and arise out of the material interests of monopoly capitalism and unless they are firmly rebuffed, they are likely to make an impact on those whose stake in society, however small, makes them vulnerable to anti-communist scare-mongering Thus we can say that whereas idealism looks for an explanation of the world in terms of the “ideas”, “intentions” or “will” of people, materialism considers that the source of all events and actions is to be found in material causes or, as they are sometimes called, “the laws of nature.” It is true that cruder forms of idealism ascribe things in the world to the “will of God” whereas more subtle forms of idealism put the cause down to the ideas which exist in the heads of individuals on earth, but in neither case do idealists seek an explanation in material reality. Whereas idealism believes that the ideas in people’s heads exist outside of and independently of the world of matter, materialism contends that people’s ideas, like all other aspects of their behaviour, are the product of material causes and can only be properly understood when these causes are discovered. Materialists in fact argue that man was neither created by God nor is his origin a sheer mystery. He developed out of the world of nature through a long process of evolution and his ideas are the product of the mental activity of his brain, itself a highly developed and complex form of matter. This does not mean that materialists are not concerned about people’s ideas. On the contrary, materialists are the only people in the world who are able to explain them properly. What materialism rejects are not ideas, or their immense importance in influencing the course of events. Rather it is the idealist theory of ideas which materialists challenge, because this treats ideas as mystical forces that somehow exist independently of material reality.

[olderthannetfic]

"B sounds cold and creepy to a lot of people instead of… you know… being a sign of having boundaries and not taking on other people’s emotions to a disabling degree."

( Re this post https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/715060100649369600 )

Stop me if I'm reaching, but I've seen two unrelated contexts recently that ring of "taking on other people's emotions to a disabling degree"

"If an artist posts art and requests you do not tag it with [specific things they hate, be it kin or OC or a NOTP], you're being disrespectful and bad even if you're just tagging it because you like the thing and are using the tag feature for its benefits

"If a fic writer deletes fic, maybe they deleted it for personal reasons and you're being entitled and disrespectful if you go looking for it, such as on deleted fic archives, or even share deleted fic-finding services with no specific fic or author in mind"

I've been involved in both kinds of arguments and in both cases "It's not my job to care or think about a stranger's feelings to the extent that a close friend would, and neither tagging posts for your own convenience nor accessing deleted resources is seen as generally discourteous" was a significant part of my reasoning.

But anyway, I feel like there's a strong overlap here. Especially since artists from 1. tend to also be laundry list of DNIs anti types.

--

Those can seem entitled or not depending on how much they're being shoved in the requester's face, I think.

The cases I was thinking of with that particular post were something slightly different:

Often, people will make the argument that many children don't have a responsible authority figure in their lives, so saying "X is the parents' job!" is cruel. Or they'll say that lots of people have mental illness that makes it hard not to look at content that upsets them, so saying it's their own job to monitor their own internet use and mental health is, again, cruel. It all boils down to:

My Mental Health is Your Job

I do think that expecting internet randos to tag how you want them to tag is an exercise in futility, but it's only sometimes about thinking others owe you the therapy or love the rest of your life hasn't provided. Sometimes, it boils down to "I will be mad if..." and not "My well-being is literally your responsibility".

Sometimes, it's just a request made in the body of an art post where you know rebloggers saw it. It can be a little entitled since people use tags to organize their own blogs, sure, but not necessarily super entitled in the same way as assuming that people will click through to your tumblr and read your whole header/DNI/Carrd before interacting with something on their dash.

"It's disrespectful to me that any deleted fic sharing exists" is pretty entitled. "Can you stop posting requests for a public DL link to this thing I deleted?" is a lot more reasonable. Neither is the same as "It causes me psychological harm that people still like my deleted fic that I now hate, and my mental health is your problem, internet rando."

[aroaceconfessions]

I want to write a book and I have the characters and a plot and notes of scenes but I can't actually sit down and write it and I know exactly what the problem is, it's anxiety. It's been an idea for a while- pre realising I'm aro and the plot went through some revisions after I figured that one out, and that got the idea pouring out. And it is a very aromantic story- the antagonist is more the personification of amanormativity rather than an active villain, and it just works as the story of my protagonist coming to terms with she's aro and she's never going to be what they want her to, and that's ok. So I really want to write it! And I want to share it with people because I spent so long being just confused and calling myself nothing because I didn't know aro was an option, I want it to be there as something someone in the same situation as eighteen year old me can pick up at the library and find an answer instead of waiting years, but that means publishing and that means people find out. With fanfic I can hide behind a screen and only talk about it in the places I'm specifically going to talk about it, it's not being sprung on me, but I live in a small town, I already get stopped by strangers who want to talk because they know my mum a bit through something, there are days I can't deal with that. And I've seen the way people on the internet treat others, all the putting up on a pedestal and cancelling and bullying to come out, I refuse to use twitter anyway but I really can't deal with that. And maybe most of all, my brother is the only person who knows I'm aroace outside of hiding behind my screen on tumblr. He's great. I'm sure other people will be great. But my brain is really, really good at thinking of the worst possible case scenario and I figured out I was ace then ace discourse almost immediately started, that's why it took so long to find aro too, I found this word and these people like me and then all that, all the awful things that got said to so many people, being told that it's a symptom of my chronic illness and I would be "normal" when that's "fixed" and I was wrong when I thought I finally had an answer, I'm too afraid to tell people in real life, what if everywhere becomes like that. Amanormativity's everywhere, right now when it's aimed at me just as me it's ignorance and I can brush it off as that, if people knew then there would be some turning malicious, and I don't know how to have the conversation, I don't want to have to have that conversation, I am just one very small coward in a very big world. So I just keep sitting here staring at a blank page knowing what the words need to be but not able to take them out my head and put them into the world because I am too afraid of what the consequences might be.

Submitted June 13, 2023

[merlincersei]

Merlin BBC UK TV Show - Opinion Piece Part 10 - Horoscope Compatibility Between Bradley James and Colin Morgan

Apparently there are online software tools, that you can use to find the astrological compatibility between 2 people based on their birth dates.

I decided to make a more light hearted post here to explore the compatibility between Bradley James and Colin Morgan using this free website tool :

https://astro.cafeastrology.com/astro.php?page=comp2f

Bradley James:

Date Of Birth: October 11, 1983

Sun Sign: Libra

Colin Morgan:

Date Of Birth: January 01, 1986

Sun Sign: Capricorn

Inter-planetary aspects

The following aspects between planets concern the possible relationships between two charts, especially the emotional and romantic relationship, but also aspects on social, intellectual, and spiritual levels.

The values next to the orbs in the chart above are part of a rating system. Keep in mind that these figures serve only as a possible guideline to reveal which aspects may be considered easy or challenging. Analysis of a relationship is, of course, very complex. While some aspects can be considered, on their own, difficult for most people, some will have an easier time with them, and the same is true of easy aspects. As well, all relationships will--and should-- have a mix of easy and challenging aspects.

When analyzing compatibility, always use your own logic and intuition to put these influences together. This is the case for anything you read in the report, on the site, on other sites, and in books. These are guidelines and possibilities only, and are not meant to pass judgment on a relationship. Read more about these combinations on Cafe Astrology (Synastry/Relationship Astrology category), on other astrology sites, and in astrology books.

-148 Square Mercury - Venus

Challenging aspect: Their relationship can sometimes be agreeable, sometimes disturbed. They tend to like to share their ideas that are not always to the other's taste, so that they may have interminable discussions in order to convince each other of their mistakes, lack of judgement, or lack of taste. It's best to be aware of this bickering tendency to overcome it, as it can slowly eat away at a relationship.

+123 Trine Sun - Jupiter

Positive aspect: Here is a couple you like to be with. They are charming, agreeable and know how to entertain their friends generously and warmly. They go well together, and love each other in a discrete and sincere way, and appreciate the joys of life together.

-117 Square Mercury - Neptune

Challenging aspect: This relationship can somehow encourage illusions and the disappointments that follow. These two people can have a hard time understanding each other and if they insist on living together, the little deceptions or lies can add up and undermine the relationship. It's important to be clear and to clear up misconceptions.

-114 Square Venus - Saturn

Challenging aspect: This can bring difficulties to the union. Although difficult, it's an aspect that is often found in long term couples. Over the long term, it can be very difficult for Venus to feel natural and comfortable in Saturn's presence, as Saturn may at times appear too austere, cold, or distant, and can put Venus ill at ease.

+93 Trine Venus - Mars

Positive aspect: This is a union that is particularly based on physical understanding, passionate love. There is a lot of affection between them, and they need to express it physically. Plenty of attraction here.

+93 Conjunction Saturn - Uranus

Positive aspect: Favorable union, linking invention and originality with common sense and thoughtfulness. They might do great things together.

+91 Conjunction Mercury - Neptune

Positive aspect: Good spiritual understanding. This is the kind of relationship in which they finish one another's sentences. The connection encourages imagination.

-89 Square Mars - Saturn

Challenging aspect: It can be challenging for such a union to run smoothly, and if it progresses, it could easily become unbearable! Both parties must be committed to happiness in order for this to work. It is important not to frequently stop, thwart, or restrict one another.

+83 Conjunction Jupiter - Saturn

Positive/Supportive aspect: This is not a defining element of compatibility, but it is supportive. A favorable union, a joyful family life. Thanks to Saturn, this couple rarely enters any adventure lightly and instead tends to work out and think things through. Many plans may be made together.

+75 Sextile Mercury - Saturn

Positive aspect: If Mercury is looking for a mother or father in the spouse, then this aspect is very favorable. Saturn will give a lot on the intellectual level and in life in general.

+75 Conjunction Saturn - Pluto

Positive aspect: Favorable union. They help one another to achieve their ambitions and goals.

+70 Trine Venus - Neptune

Positive aspect: Favorable union, there can be shared artistic tastes and common sensibilities. There can be a focus on fantasy, gentleness, and romance or compassion and acceptance.

+69 Trine Venus - Venus

Positive aspect: Complete respect for each other's romantic style. They don't easily offend each other and instinctively understand what makes the other person happy. Conflicts arise, but they are generally smoothed over with ease, as there is good will between them. Very good aspect for a successful union. Love, gaiety, understanding.

+59 Sextile Sun - Uranus

Positive aspect: The Sun person will be enriched by this relationship with Uranus, which will lead to the discovery of a new world, original and full of change. They will go well together, but the Uranus person may resist marriage, at least on a formal level. In some cases, the relationship works better when the bond is not formalized, simply for the sake of the Uranus person's sense of freedom.

+59 Sextile Mars - Pluto

Positive aspect: Enormous physical passion. The sexual attraction is intense and insistent. They want to be around each other as much as possible. Their sexual relationship evolves with time, instead of dissolves.

+54 Sextile Venus - Saturn

Positive aspect: This union could be favorable and lasting, if Venus is really looking for a mature person to be with. There can be a certain level of self-consciousness together that is always present, no matter how long they are together. There is a lot of loyalty between them, and a feeling of responsibility for one another.

+54 Trine Mars - Lunar node

Positive aspect: This is one indicator that suggests the relationship will endure. The union or love, passion, grows and lasts.

+46 Trine Jupiter - Lunar node

Positive aspect: They are made for each other. They go well together, have intellectual understanding and confidence in each other, a harmonious couple.

+41 Sextile Saturn - Neptune

Positive aspect: Favorable union. Neptune brings dreams to Saturn if they're lacking, and Saturn brings common sense to Neptune when they're lacking.

______________________________________________________________

I SWEAR TO GOD I DID NOT ALTER A SINGLE WORD IN THE ARTICLE LISTED.

DOES THIS NOT SOUND LIKE THEIR RELATIONSHIP AS ARTHUR AND MERLIN.

NO WONDER PEOPLE SHIP THESE TWO !!!

ALL COPY RIGHTS BELONG TO CAFEASTROLOGY.

[shuxiii]

Everyday pt. 9

Hanni Pham x reader pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7, pt8, pt9, pt10, pt11, pt12, pt13

a/n yall ask for a daerin crumb but ill apologize in advance teehee, credits ''every day'' by David levithan

Day 6007

I wake up the next morning in Beyoncé’s body.

Not the real Beyoncé. But a body remarkably like hers. All the curves in all the right places.

I open my eyes to a blur. I reach for the glasses on the night-stand, but they’re not there. So I stumble into the bathroom and put in my contact lenses.

Then I look in the mirror.

I am not pretty. I am not beautiful.

I’m top-to-bottom gorgeous.

I am always happiest when I am just attractive enough. Meaning: other people won’t find me unattractive. Meaning: I make a positive impression. Meaning: my life is not defined by my attractiveness, because that brings its own perils as well as its own rewards.

Shim Ja-yoon’s life is defined by her attractiveness. Beauty can come naturally, but it’s hard to be stunning by accident. A lot of work has gone into this face, this body. I’m sure there’s a complete morning regimen that I’m supposed to undergo before heading into the day.

I don’t want to have any part of it, though. With girls like Yoon, I just want to shake them, and tell them that no matter how hard they fight it, these teenage looks aren’t going to last forever, and that there are much better foundations to build a life upon than how attractive you are. But there’s no way for me to get that message across. My only course of rebellion is to leave her eyebrows unplucked for the day.

I access where I am, and discover I’m only about fifteen minutes away from Hanni.

A good sign.

I log on to my email and find a message from her.

Yn,

I’m free and have the car today. I told my mom I have errands.

Want to be one of my errands?

H

I tell her yes. A million times yes.

Yoon’s parents are away for the weekend. Her older brother, is in charge. I worry he’s going to give me a hassle, but he’s got his own things to do, as he tells me repeatedly. I tell him I won’t stand in his way.

“You’re going out in that?” he asks.

Normally, when an older brother asks this, it means a skirt is too short, or too much cleavage is showing. But in this case, I think he’s saying I’m still dressed as the private Yoon, not the public one.

I don’t really care, but I have to respect the fact that Yoon would care—probably very much. So I go back and change, and even put on some makeup. I’m fascinated by the life Yoon must lead, being such a knockout. Like being very short or very tall, it must change your whole perspective on the world. If other people see you differently, you’ll end up seeing them differently, too.

Even her brother defers to her in a way I bet he wouldn’t if she were normal-looking. He doesn’t blink when I tell him I’m going out for the day with my friend Hanni.

If your beauty is unquestioned, so many other things can go unquestioned as well.

The minute I get into the car, Hanni bursts out laughing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says.

“What?” I say. Then I get it.

“What?” she mocks me. I’m happy she feels comfortable enough to do it, but I’m still being mocked.

“You have to understand—you’re the first person to ever know me in more than one body. I’m not used to this. I don’t know how you’re going to react.”

This makes her a little more serious.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re this super hot pretty girl. It makes it very hard for me to have a mental image of you. I keep having to change it.”

“Picture me however you want to picture me. Because odds are, that’ll be more true than any of the bodies you see me in.”

“I think my imagination needs a little more time to catch up to the situation, okay?”

“Okay. Now, where to?”

“Since we’ve already been to the ocean, I figured today we’d go to a forest.”

So off we go, into the woods.

It’s not like last time. The radio is on, but we’re not singing along. We’re sharing the same space, but our thoughts are spreading outside of it.

I want to hold her hand, but I sense it wouldn’t work. I know she’s not going to reach for my hand, not unless I need it. This is the problem with being so beautiful—it can render you untouchable. And this is the problem with being in a new body each day—the history is there, but it’s not visible. It has to be different from last time, because I am different.

We talk a little about Jiwon; Hanni called her house a second time yesterday, just to see what would happen. Jiwon’s father answered, and when Hanni introduced herself as a friend, he said that Jiwon had gone away to deal with some things, and left it at that. Both Hanni and I decide to take this as a good sign.

We talk some more, but not about anything that matters. I want to cut through the awkwardness, have Hanni treat me like her boyfriend or girlfriend again. But I can’t. I’m not.

We get to the park and navigate ourselves away from the other weekenders. Hanni finds us a secluded picnic area, and surprises me by taking a feast from the trunk.

I watch as she picks everything out of the picnic hamper. Cheeses. French bread. Hummus. Olives. Salads. Chips. Salsa.

“Are you a vegetarian?” I ask, based on the evidence in front of me.

She nods.

“Why?”

“Because I have this theory that when we die, every animal that we’ve eaten has a chance at eating us back. So if you’re a carnivore and you add up all the animals you’ve eaten—well, that’s a long time in purgatory, being chewed.”

“Really?”

She laughs. “No. I’m just sick of the question. I mean, I’m vegetarian because I think it’s wrong to eat other sentient creatures. And it sucks for the environment.”

“Fair enough.” I don’t tell her how many times I’ve accidentally eaten meat while I’ve been in a vegetarian’s body. It’s just not something I remember to check for. It’s usually the friends’ reactions that alert me. I once made a vegan really, really sick at a McDonald’s.

Over lunch, we make more small talk. It’s not until we’ve put away the picnic and are walking through the woods that the real words come out.

“I need to know what you want,” she says.

“I want us to be together.” I say it before I can think it over.

She keeps walking. I keep walking alongside her.

“But we can’t be together. You realize that, don’t you?”

“No. I don’t realize that.”

Now she stops. Puts her hand on my shoulder.

“You need to realize it. I can care about you. You can care about me. But we can’t be together.”

It’s so ridiculous, but I ask, “Why?”

“Why? Because one morning you could wake up on the other side of the country. Because I feel like I’m meeting a new person every time I see you. Because you can’t be there for me. Because I don’t think I can like you no matter what. Not like this.”

“Why can’t you like me like this?”

“It’s too much. You’re too perfect right now. I can’t imagine being with someone like … you.”

“But don’t look at her—look at me.”

“I can’t see beyond her, okay? And there’s also Minj. I have to think of Minji.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You don’t know, okay? How many waking hours were you in there? Fourteen? Fifteen? Did you really get to know everything about her while you were in there? Everything about me?”

“You like her because she’s a lost girl. Believe me, I’ve seen it happen before. But do you know what happens to people who love lost girls? They become lost themselves. Without fail.”

“You don’t know me—”

“But I know how this works! I know what she’s like. She doesn’t care about you nearly as much as you care about her. She doesn’t care about you nearly as much as I care about you.”

“Stop! Just stop.”

But I can’t. “What do you think would happen if she met me in this body? What if the three of us went out? How much attention do you think she’d pay you? Because she doesn’t care about who you are. I happen to think you are about a thousand times more attractive than Yoon is. But do you really think she’d be able to keep her hands to herself if she had a chance?”

“She’s not like that.”

“Are you sure? Are you really sure?”

“Fine,” Hanni says. “Let me call her.”

Despite my immediate protests, she dials her number and, when she answers, says she has a friend in town that she wants her to meet. Maybe we could all go for dinner? She says fine, but not until Hanni says it’ll be her treat.

Once she hangs up, we just hang there.

“Happy?” she asks.

“I have no idea,” I tell her honestly.

“Me either.”

“When are we meeting her?”

“Six.”

“Okay,” I say. “In the meantime, I want to tell you everything, and I want you to tell me everything in return.”

It’s so much easier when we’re talking about things that are real. We don’t have to remind ourselves what the point is, because we’re right there in it.

She asks me when I first knew.

“I was probably four or five. Obviously, I knew before that about changing bodies, having a different mom and dad each day. Or grandmother or babysitter or whoever. There was always someone to take care of me, and I assumed that was just what living was—a new life every morning. If I got something wrong—a name, a place, a rule—people would correct me. There was never that big a disturbance. I didn’t think of myself as a boy or a girl—I never have. I would just think of myself as a boy or a girl for a day. It was like a different set of clothes.

“The thing that ended up tripping me up was the concept of tomorrow. Because after a while, I started to notice—people kept talking about doing things tomorrow. Together. And if I argued, I would get strange looks. For everyone else, there always seemed to be a tomorrow together. But not for me. I’d say, ‘You won’t be there,’ and they’d say, ‘Of course I’ll be there.’ And then I’d wake up, and they wouldn’t be. And my new parents would have no idea why I was so upset.

“There were only two options—something was wrong with everyone else, or something was wrong with me. Because either they were tricking themselves into thinking there was a tomorrow together, or I was the only person who was leaving.”

Hanni asks, “Did you try to hold on?”

I tell her, “I’m sure I did. But I don’t remember it now. I remember crying and protesting—I told you about that. But the rest? I’m not sure. I mean, do you remember a lot about when you were five?”

She shakes her head. “Not really. I remember my mom bringing me and my sister to the shoe store to get new shoes before kindergarten started. I remember learning that a green light meant go and red meant stop. I remember coloring them in, and the teacher being a little confused about how to explain yellow. I think she told us to treat it the same as red.”

“I learned my letters quickly,” I tell her. “I remember the teachers being surprised that I knew them. I imagine they were just as surprised the next day, when I’d forgotten them.”

“A five-year-old probably wouldn’t notice taking a day off.”

“Probably. I don’t know.”

“I keep asking Minji about it, you know. The day you were her. And it’s amazing how clear her fake memories are. She doesn’t disagree when I say we went to the beach, but she doesn’t really remember it, either.”

“Soobin, the twin, was like that, too. He didn’t notice anything wrong. But when I asked him about meeting you for coffee, he didn’t remember it at all. He remembered he was at Starbucks—his mind accounted for the time. But it wasn’t what actually happened.”

“Maybe they remember what you want them to remember.”

“I’ve thought about that. I wish I knew for sure.”

We walk farther. Circle a tree with our fingers.

“What about love?” she asks. “Have you ever been in love?”

“I don’t know that you’d call it love,” I say. “I’ve had crushes, for sure. And there have been days where I’ve really regretted leaving. There were even one or two people I tried to find, but that didn’t work out. The closest was this girl Danielle.”

“Tell me about her.”

“It was about a year ago. I was working at a movie theater, and she was in town, visiting her cousins, and when she went to get some popcorn, we flirted a little, and it just became this … spark. It was this small, one-screen movie theater, and when the movie was running, my job was pretty slow. I think she missed the second half of the movie, because she came back out and started talking to me more. I ended up having to tell her what happened, so she could pretend she’d been in there most of the time. At the end, she asked for my email, and I made up an email address.”

“Like you did for me.”

“Exactly like I did for you. And she emailed me later that night, and left the next day to go back home to Maine, and that proved to be ideal, because then the rest of our relationship could be online. I’d been wearing a name tag, so I had to give her that first name, but I made up a last name, and then I made up an online profile using some of the photos from the real girl’s profile. I think her name was Haerin.”

“Oh—so you were a girl?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Does that matter?”

“No,” she tells me. “I guess not.” But I can tell it does. A little. Again, her mental picture needs adjustment.

“So we’d email almost every day. We’d even chat. And while I couldn’t tell her what was really happening—I emailed her from some very strange places—I still felt like I had something out there in the world that was consistently mine, and that was a pretty new feeling. The only problem was, she wanted more. More photos. Then she wanted to Skype. Then, after about a month of these intense conversations, she started talking about visiting again. Her aunt and uncle had already invited her back, and summer was coming.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Yup—uh-oh. I couldn’t figure out a way around it. And the more I tried to dodge it, the more she noticed. All of our conversations became about us. Every now and then, a tangent would get in there, but she’d always drag it back. So I had to end it. Because there wasn’t going to be a tomorrow for us.”

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?”

“Because I didn’t think she could take it. Because I didn’t trust her enough, I guess.”

“So you called it off.”

“I told her I’d met someone else. I borrowed photos from the body I was in at the time. I changed my fake profile’s relationship status. Danielle never wanted to talk to me again.”

“Poor girl.”

“I know. After that, I promised myself I wouldn’t get into any more virtual entanglements, as easy as they might seem to be. Because what’s the point of something virtual if it doesn’t end up being real? And I could never give anyone something real. I could only give them deception.”

“Like impersonating their girlfriends,” Hanni says.

“Yeah. But you have to understand—you were the exception to the rule. And I didn’t want it to be based on deception. Which is why you’re the first person I’ve ever told.”

“The funny thing is, you say it like it’s so unusual that you’ve only done it once. But I bet a whole lot of people go through their lives without ever telling the truth, not really. And they wake up in the same body and the same life every single morning.”

“Why? What aren’t you telling me?”

Hanni looks me in the eye. “If I’m not telling you something, it’s for a reason. Just because you trust me, it doesn’t mean I have to automatically trust you. Trust doesn’t work like that.”

“That’s fair.”

“I know it is. But enough of that. Tell me about—I don’t know—third grade.”

The conversation continues. She learns the reason I now have to access information about allergies before eating anything (after having been nearly killed by a strawberry when I was nine), and I learn the origin of her fear of bunny rabbits (a particularly malevolent creature named Swizzle that liked to escape its cage and sleep on people’s faces). She learns about the best mom I ever had (a water park is involved), and I learn about the highs and lows of living with the same mother for your entire life, about how no one can make you angrier, but how you can’t really love anyone more. She learns that I haven’t always been in Maryland, but I move great distances only when the body I’m in moves great distances. I learn that she’s never been on an airplane.

She still keeps a physical space between us—there will be no leaning on shoulders or holding hands right now. But if our bodies keep apart, our words do not. I don’t mind that.

We return to the car and pick at the remains of the picnic. Then we walk around and talk some more. I am astonished at the number of lives I can remember to tell Hanni about, and she is amazed that her single life bears as many stories as my multiple one. Because her normal existence is so foreign to me, so intriguing to me, it starts to feel a little more interesting to her as well.

I could go on like this until midnight. But at five-fifteen, Hanni looks at her phone and says, “We better get going. Minji will be waiting for us.”

Somehow, I’d managed to forget.

It should be a foregone conclusion. I am a seriously attractive girl. Minji is a typically jerk.

I am hoping that Hanni’s theory is right, and that Yoon will only remember what I want her to remember, or what her mind wants her to remember. Not that I’m going to take this far—all I need is confirmation of Minji’s willingness, not actual contact.

Hanni’s picked a clam house off the highway. True to form, I confirm that Yoon doesn’t have any shellfish allergies. In truth, Yoon has tricked herself into thinking she’s “allergic” to a number of things, as a way of narrowing down her diet. But shellfish never hit that particular watch list.

When she walks into the room, heads actually turn. Most of them are attached to men a good thirty years older than her. I’m sure she’s used to it, but it freaks me out.

Even though Hanni was concerned about Minji having to wait for us, she ends up coming ten minutes after we do. The look on her face when she first sees me is priceless—when Hanni said she had a friend in town, Yoon was not what she pictured. She gives Hanni her hello, but she’s gaping at me when he does.

We take our seats. At first I’m so focused on her reaction that I don’t notice Hanni’s. She’s receding into herself, suddenly quiet, suddenly timid. I can’t tell whether it’s Minji’s presence that’s making this happen, or whether it’s the combination of her presence and mine.

We’ve been so wrapped up in our own day that we haven’t really prepared for this. So when Minji starts asking the obvious questions—how do Hanni and I know each other, and how come she hasn’t heard about me before—I have to jump into the breach. For Hanni, fabrication is a ruminative act, whereas lying is a part of my necessary nature.

I tell her that my mother and Hanni’s mother were best friends in high school. I’m now living in Los Angeles (why not?), auditioning for TV shows (because I can). My mother and I are visiting the East Coast for a week, and she wanted to check in on her old friend. Hanni and I have seen each other off and on through the years, but this is the first time in a while.

Minji appears to be hanging on my every word, but she isn’t listening at all. I brush her leg “accidentally” under the table. She pretends she doesn’t notice. Hanni pretends, too.

I’m brazen, but careful with my brazenness. I touch Hanni’s hand a few times when I’m making a point, so it doesn’t seem so unusual when I do it to Minji. I mention a Hollywood star that I once kissed at a party, but make it clear that it was no big deal.

I want Minji to flirt back, but she appears incapable. Especially once there’s food in front of her. Then the order of attention goes: food, then Yoon, then Hanni. I dip my crab cakes in tartar sauce, and imagine Yoon yelling at me for doing so.

When the food is finished, she focuses back on me. Hanni comes alive a little and tries to mimic my movements, first by holding her hand. She doesn’t move away, but she doesn’t seem all that into it; she acts like she’s embarrassing Hanni. I figure this is a good sign.

Finally, Hanni says she has to go to the ladies’ room. This is my chance to get her to do something irredeemable, get her to see who she truly is.

I start with the leg move. This time, with Hanni gone, she doesn’t move her leg away.

“Hello there,” I say.

“Hello,” she says back. And smiles.

“What are you doing after this?” I ask.

“After dinner?”

“Yeah, after dinner.”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe we should do something,” I suggest.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Maybe just the two of us.”

Click. She finally gets it.

I move in. Touch her hand. Say, “I think that would be fun.”

I need her to lean in to me. I need her to give in to what she wants. I need her to take it one step further. All it takes is a yes.

She looks around, to see if Hanni is near, and to see if the other guys in the room are seeing this happen.

“Whoa,” she says.

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I really like you.”

She sits back. Shakes her head. “Um … no.”

I’ve been too forward. She needs it to be her idea.

“Why not?” I ask.

She looks at me like I’m a complete idiot.

“Why not?” she says. “How about Hanni? Jeez.”

I’m trying to think of a comeback for that, but there isn’t one. And it doesn’t even matter, because at this point, Hanni returns to the table.

“I don’t want this,” she says. “Stop.”

Minji, fool that she is, thinks she’s talking to her.

“I’m not doing anything!” she protests, her leg firmly back on his side of the booth. “Your friend here is a little out of control.”

“I don’t want this,” she repeats.

“It’s okay,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be!” Minji yells. “God, I don’t know how they do things in California, but here, you don’t act like that.” she stands up. I steal a glance at her slight flush ears and see that despite her denials, my flirtation did have at least one effect. But I can’t really point it out to Hanni.

“I’m gonna go,” she says. Then, as if to prove something, she kisses Hanni right in front of me. “Thanks, baby,” she says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She doesn’t bother saying goodbye to me.

Hanni and I sit back down.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her again.

“No, it’s my fault. I should’ve known.”

I’m waiting for the I told you so … and then it comes.

“I told you that you don’t understand. You can’t understand us,” she says.

The check comes. I try to pay, but she waves me off.

“It’s not your money,” she says. And that hurts just as much as anything else.

I know she wants the night to end. I know she wants to drop me off at home, just so she can call Minji and apologize, and make everything right with her again.

[delta-queerdrant]

how do you solve a problem like Chakotay? (Tattoo, s2 e9)

I have been away from this space for a number of boring reasons (including, to be transparent, cheating on Janeway with my space cop boyfriend Odo. Why do the good girls go for the lawful neutral boys?)

But also, Tattoo! Yikes on bikes! When I first realized I’d be reviewing this episode, I felt a powerful impulse to back away slowly, as if from wasps. My aversion came from a place of contempt for this episode, probably the low point of the imaginative failure that is Chakotay. At the same time, I was not sure what to do with my anger. It’s easy for white people to become a little too enamored with our own hot takes; I am ill-equipped to speak to the impact of a narrative that’s racist, anti-Indigenous storytelling all the way down.

I imagined I’d compile a reading list by Indigenous writers who could talk with authority about “Tattoo.” The reading list has become a comfortable rhetorical move for white cultural critics, a stay in our lane impulse. A reading list attempts to re-center marginalized voices, though it’s rarely a call to action (unless that action is read books). In this case, the reading list was elusive. I couldn’t find much non-paywalled content discussing this episode at length, with the exception of this illuminating review by comics artist Rob Schmidt. 

What does it mean to do low stakes cultural criticism on Tumblr dot com? If this is a quiet space for playful self-reflection about my Television Feelings, then I think we can agree that nobody particularly needs my thoughts on the impact of “Tattoo,” or the Kazon, or any of the other ill-conceived ways that Star Trek has handled race. I will continue to get mad about these artistic choices, but my anger is not load-bearing. You can’t build anything with it.

The best I can probably do here, and throughout these reviews, is to excavate the contours of my own relationship with science fiction. I think white people have quite a lot we need to say about whiteness, and our penchant for racist science fiction, and how we could perhaps redirect our creative impulses elsewhere. 

To summarize the episode - Chakotay visits a Delta Quadrant moon and recognizes a symbol that reminds him of a childhood visit to his people’s ancestral home on Earth. As a young man, nonconformist Chakotay wasn’t much interested in his ancestors’ traditional lifeways, and even now, he’s agnostic about some of their religious beliefs. Nearby, a planet has flora and fauna similar to the Earth rainforest Chakotay remembers visiting. When he’s separated from the away team, he encounters aliens who can “control the elements of nature” and seem to share his tribe’s culture.

In a block of decidedly clunky exposition, we learn that these aliens visited hunter-gatherers on Earth millennia ago. The early humans are described as having “no spoken language, no culture, except the use of fire and stone weapons.” Okay then! The aliens gave them “an inheritance, a genetic bonding so they might thrive and protect your world.” The genes motivated the hunter gatherers to travel to the Americas, where they passed down memories of the aliens, who became key figures in Chakotay’s people’s religion. Chakotay now understands himself, his father, and the aliens as people called to “honor the land” and defend it.

(Meanwhile, the Doctor programs himself to experience a respiratory illness and proceeds to have what I believe is known in the vernacular as a “man-flu.” It’s very silly.)

If “Tattoo” was well received, I think it was because of the emotional heft of this episode, which figures Chakotay as the diaspora kid who rediscovers his roots and connects with his father’s memory. I would have liked an episode that fully explored what it means to be Indigenous and diasporic, and how Chakotay’s identity informed his decision to join the Maquis.

This is not really the episode we got. Instead “Tattoo,” in the vein of white supremacist conspiracy theory tome Chariot of the Gods, imagines that Indigenous people are magical space boys whose religion and culture are gifts from aliens. Now, Captain Planet-like, they have been tasked to protect their homelands, conveniently letting the rest of us off the hook. 

“Tattoo” erases the truth and specificity of Indigenous cultures and origins—of people who were and are energized by their own intelligence and agency, and who have actively maintained specific and rooted ways of being in the world despite 500 years of material and cultural genocide. It doesn’t help that the prehistory depicted in the episode is utterly confused. The ancestors described in this episode are apparently early humans, long before the migration into the Americas, but the timeline is so muddled that the episode resolves into a narrative of “Indigenous people require alien intervention in order to have a culture.”

I think “Tattoo” is really a white fantasy, because white people would like nothing better than to be magical racialized space boys. To be chosen, to be connected at once to a homeland and a cosmic other, satisfies a hunger born of our collective imaginations. White people don’t really care who built our sacred sites, if our culture heroes are exploded in favor of New Age nonsense, because our legitimacy as people with a history and a destiny is nevertheless secure. (Though there are probably limits to our popular embrace of the New Age - I can’t imagine a Star Trek where Jesus is the one receiving genetic messages from aliens.)

To complicate my analysis, I'll note that a white Jewish author wrote the teleplay for “Tattoo,” and in the episode’s Wikipedia page, Robert Beltran says “Tattoo” resonated with his experience of feeling disconnected from his Latino heritage. There is a story about diaspora here, however clumsily executed. As a person of Jewish ancestry, I’m not surprised that creators from diaspora communities turn to speculative fiction to recreate lost pasts for marginalized characters. It’s easy to lose your history, and this loss is compounded in a world where whiteness swallows difference.

Star Trek has always had a race problem. In my twenties, I began to learn about the antecedents of the science fiction and fantasy genres - adventure fiction and Westerns, genres steeped in ideologies of Rule Britannia and manifest destiny. If Star Trek was originally pitched as “Wagon Train to the Stars,” then perhaps the aliens have always been “Indians.” But Star Trek also has a progressive streak that has lent itself to diverse casting. What does it mean when the same universe contains allegories for minorities and real-world minorities?

I have to admit I'm a sucker for a good science fiction allegory. As a kid from a mixed-faith background, I loved watching Worf negotiate his Klingon ancestry and human upbringing. (I only realized as an adult that the Rozhenkos are Jewish coded!) I'm not saying that Worf is great or perfect representation of multicultural identity, but there is something about allegory that can powerfully voice our lived experiences. (The trans allegory in the recent Nimona film adaptation is an exceptional example of this.)

As best as I can tell, the trick to writing fictional "races" and real racialized characters is one and the same - handling the cultures you're depicting with care, eschewing biased stereotypes in favor of nuanced, complex, informed worldbuilding. The showrunners of Voyager did not exercise care.

I want a Star Trek in which the characters feel rooted in real cultures, whether they’re alien or human. I want Harry Kim to have a cultural identity, and I want Chakotay to belong to a real-world Indigenous community. If science fiction is about curiosity, then I want white writers and showrunners who are genuinely curious about the stories they don’t have the expertise to tell—and who are willing to give space to those who do.

1/5 prize Vulcan orchids.

[chronicallydragons]

Hiii I hope this is not intrusive, but I made a lil expedition in your blog and couldn't thing any post in wich you talk how you balance your life as an scientist while being chronically ill. I'm chronically ill myself (myalgic encephalomyelitis) and plan to be a doctor in a handful of science areas, but the amount of time I have to study per day is way bigger than I can afford with the fatigue and mind fog (adhd is also in the soup). It would be a wonder if you could share some tips and experiences if ya don't mind :) hope you've been doing ok

Thanks for asking! I've actually been trying to figure it out again for myself, so I'm not sure if I'm any help here because it is SO hard to balance work and life and being chronically ill. I also have ME/CFS in my alphabet soup of diagnoses, so I understand the struggle! I guess I could just talk about what I've done since getting sick? Maybe you can gleam some wisdom from it? I'm definitely not a doctor or an expert, but I can try to help! (sorry, this gets long...)

I got sick right after I got accepted into grad school but right before school started, so I had a lot of trial and error trying to find out what worked. And grad school is hard. It's always going to be hard. But grad school with a chronic illness was a new kind of hard and when I tell you I wanted to drop out at least once a semester... I think the biggest things that contributed to me sticking around to graduation was: I was working full time in the lab at the university so was already planning on doing part time class work, my classes were (mostly) online (more on that later), and my boss/master's advisor's wife has a lot of health issues too, so he's been super sympathetic and flexible with my reduced energy and increased brain fog.

For school, I did not have accommodations my first semester but did get them set up for either my second or third semester. Most of my classes were online because my degree was mostly online and it was during the part of covid when people...cared. But I did have a few in person classes that I worked with my professors to make sure I had access to zoom when I couldn't make it in person--that's probably harder for med school, but it might be worth asking for! Other accommodations were with a case-by-case extended deadline, extra time on exams, small snacks and water in class and exams, and being able to put my feet up in class. I tried to get an accommodation for an index card of notes for brain fog, but the school required more hoops for something like that so I didn't go for it, but it might be worth at least asking for.

For work, I'm currently in a weird place where we moved away from the university for my husband's job, but I was still able to finish my thesis remotely, and I still work for the lab--just remotely and part time. I help with journal manuscripts and putting together experiment sheets right now. But I probably do need to find a new position sooner than later. I'm currently looking for positions with the state health department because I know they do more remote work than my local health department. I'm also hoping when/if I do get a new job, that I'll be able to get accommodations for a more flexible schedule--including less required in person time if possible--and possibly trying to be part time. My big thing is I *can* work, I just need to be able to recline and turn the lights down/off which is hard to do in an office or lab setting. When I WAS still in person and full time at the lab, my office was just shared with me and a coworker/friend who was totally fine with me turning off the lights in the office and working in the dark. We also had an extra table that was supposed to be used for other computers/laptops and paperwork and stuff, but I used it to lie down on after being in the lab for extended periods of time. When I was in the lab, some of the labs got really hot, especially under all the PPE, so I found spraying my gown and gloves with the ethanol helped to promote some evaporative cooling to keep my heat intolerance in check. I found that communicating with my coworkers and supervisors about when I needed breaks or accommodations was super helpful. Working with SARS-CoV-2, we were in Tyvek suits and PAPRs in a sectioned off portion of the BSL-3 lab, and I'd often overheat in there, so I made sure I was going back with a lab partner and took regular breaks to leave the SARS2 room, take off the PAPR, and get some air for a minute and rest.

Like anything with ME/CFS, pacing is going to be the hardest but most important part to figure out. And science requires a lot of mental exertion, so even if you're "just" reading papers or running data analysis or whatever, taking regular breaks and taking it slow is really important. Some school disability resource centers have screen readers you can borrow, and if reading becomes difficult, it may be worth asking if you can get one so you can listen instead.

I'm not sure how it works with med school--I had originally planned to do vet school eventually, but I got distracted by research and public health so went the MPH route, but planned to go to vet school eventually until I got sick. But I know vet school class schedules are super strict and take a lot of time and I don't know if I'd be able to adapt it, so I'm not trying too hard to get to vet school anymore, but I think it'd definitely be worth having a conversation with your professors, the doctors you'll be working with, and the disability center at your school to try to figure out what the best way is to get things done without making yourself any sicker. Find ways to reduce stimulation and symptoms while you're working so hopefully you need fewer major breaks--for me, that's things like managing my orthostatic intolerance by reclining/putting my feet up/lying down/staying hydrated/staying cool and then also reducing light--either turning the lights off or using light sensitivity glasses (I used my HSA to get Avulux/Axon glasses and they work really well but they are expensive so going with a cheaper brand if you have any light sensitivity probably works just fine too!). I know some people benefit from noise filtering and use Loops. Mobility aids are a life saver. I didn't apply, but my university had a limited amount of electric wheelchairs and scooters they could lend to students every semester, if you don't have a mobility aid that works for you yet, it might be worth checking if you school has any available. Really just doing anything you can to keep symptoms down while you're studying and researching can help keep you functional longer, and that's kinda been what I've managed to do. I've straight up brought heating pads to work/class and the only comments I usually got were either 1) "are you okay?" or 2) "Oh, that's GENIUS," so don't be afraid to just...do what you need to do and use what you need to use! I hope something here helped?

[cburambles]

Lazard's motivation or "Unattainable dreams are the best kind"

Brainstorming & theorizing on the Shinra scions is my favorite hobby.

Something I've noticed is that the Lazard's friend NPC doesn't even seem to know whether that "friend who used to say he was the of president Shinra" is still alive or not. Which makes me wonder if he changed identity. Lazard Deusericus may be not be his real name because he couldn't have his father finds out immediately who he was until the right moment.

We know Lazard was mostly out for personnal revenge as it is hinted by NPCs that his mother not only was rumored being Shinra sr's lover, it also seems that it was pretty much something out of a fairy tale story as one female NPCs suggest it seemed something out of a dream, making you wonder if there was more than sex but an actual romance going on between the two when you compare with the way he treated his other lovers like Evan's mother, as he attempted to keep those relationships more discreet & gave hush money to them.

It makes me wonder if Shinra sr may have broken off their relationship to marry Rufus's mother, who may have likely been a strong political match, which could have been devastating for Lazard's mother, enough that he needed to seek revenge for her.

( Another thing that needs to be noted is that Shinra sr has a consistent taste in women as it is explained in TKAA & Lazard is really likely to be his eldest illegitimate child, which makes me wonder if he could have been selecting his secretaries via their physical attributes, looking to have sex with people who may have actually looked like Lazard's mother.

I think it's also narratively interesting how Rufus among his brother, is the one who actually looks more like his mother while Lazard & Evan seems to share more traits with their father. Something about Shinra sr's genes being more apparent with the sons of women he may have actually desired at one point+ his narcisstic side & all of that)

This mail intrigue me.

One thing I've noticed is that Kunsel is often on point when assessing certain situation, characters, motivations and in his speculations in his other mails & it's likely the case here as well.

I have this theory that like this NPC says, that Lazard joined Shinra out of revenge. Shinra sr saw that he was competent & slowed him down by giving him an high position & power, which gave Lazard some hope that he might potentially become his successor as he actually had more executive power & more official achievements than his legitimate son Rufus, whom was also building a rep for being rebellious & callous while Lazard is the amiable one who plan succesful strategies in Wutaï & get to order around the great Sephiroth.

Feeling some parental recognition (not in warm affection but more in " you're doing a good job which show that you are not only a good tool but possibly what I always wanted for a son & oh I kinda miss your mother too" ) could have also felt good to him as well & he was maybe hoping he could support financially the children of slums ( while ironically being complicit in destroying families by helping out with the war in Wutaï)

Then it got confirmed that Rufus was still on the track to become VP & it enrages Lazard, who goes back on his revenge quest as Shinra scions are egocentric like that (hence the "ill blood" mail which was as much abt him as for Rufus, Genesis, Sephiroth & Angeal) & find out about the whole Hollander & project G when Genesis infection happens & start degrading. So he decide to use them as pawns in his own war until he get stabbed in the back by them ( which echoes Rufus getting betrayed by Avalanche in BC while he is on his own quest to get rid of his father)

What gives more credence to this theory is that CCR is filled with characters whose motivation are tied to feel a sense of recognition by getting on the same level, wanting the attention or surpass a figure.

Genesis wanted to surpass Sephiroth which caused his admiration & friendship for him to turn into a rivalry as he always hogged Shinra & Midgar's attention, Zack's admiration for Sephiroth, the hero get soured as he would steal his thunder in the media for the operations that they participated together. And Cloud wanted to be on the same level of Sephiroth because he was hoping it would make him look strong & give him some recognition, in particular Tifa's.

Need for recognition & abandonment issues is also something shared by two of his known brothers: In CoS, Rufus start to understand he wanted his father's recognition & feared the fact that he might attempt to " replace" him as a child if he didn't prove himself worthy of the Shinra throne. Evan has abandonment issues due to his mother's suddendly disappearing & it lead him to be reckless out of fear Kyrie & her friends may reject him for not looking like he would belong in their group, to the point he get insecure upon seeing Rufus.

Those are things that drive them so it wouldn't be surprising if it also ended up being a motivating factor to Lazard as he was working his way up in to Shinra, making his revenge quest a bit more difficult to execute as he is getting the approval of Shinra sr.

Lazard getting the attention of his father he may have craved deep down, after getting some achievement that would prove that he had it in him to be the VP then have his father turn-around & still pick Rufus, which causes him to go back in track in his revenge quest isn't far-fetched.

Untainnable dreams may have become a strong motivator to him at one point & I think his famous quote was also a warning to Zack, that the highest power in society choose its represents, whether you work hard for it or not.

It makes the last Banora scene even more charged, as yes Lazard, may have not gained the recognition of his father or the VP seat or succeed in his revenge but he learned to let go of his hate due to Angeal's influence but got to help & save people who will then contribute into saving the world, becoming one of the brief, silent heroes of this world, which isn't unlike his two half-brothers who also have the similar traits & roles to play.

tl; dr: Lazard may have started working Shinra out of revenge against his father abandonning his mother, got derailed as he discovered he liked getting some paternal recognition & the possibility that he could become VP then went back on track when Rufus got the VP chair, which gives more significance to the "untainable dreams are the best kind" quote.

[madebysamael]

It's breakdown time again.

My mental health hasn't been great for a while. Tbh, it started tanking after I worked as a vendor selling my handmade jewelry at pride shows in June.

Which went great!! I had best-selling shows and people were really excited about my art. It was awesome.

And then I had to go back to work.

I work full-time, at a desk job in a corporate office. The company is in an industry often used to represent soulless antagonists in movies. My job itself is a specialized position that requires a lot of mental labor. Finding time and energy to create is a challenge, even in the times where things are balanced.

And lately it's been really tough, because the work that needs doing is what I, a person who suspects myself to be on the autism spectrum somewhere, find hellish: I have to navigate bureaucracy and act as a diplomat. I have to coordinate projects between different people and act as a liaison. Most of my job isn't doing anymore, it's figuring out who I need to reach out to, and when, and how do I phrase this so I don't offend anyone? It's inefficient, circular, and often requires me to dance with office politics.

I'm. So. Exhausted.

So, after dragging myself away from the laptop where I've been sending emails and updating spreadsheets all week, I was so excited, because last weekend, I got to escape to my favorite fantasy world: Good Omens. To a life in color, to an eternity ever after.

You all know what happens.

It opened the floodgates. I started losing focus at work, couldn't remember where we were at on projects, who I was waiting on, who I needed to contact - hell, I couldn't even remember to bring my lunch.

I was thinking about GO, but not about the story itself. Instead, it was about how, best-case scenario, it will be 2+ years before they get their happy ending. About how leaving them in limbo for so long fucking hurts.

About how 2-3 years is a long time. Long enough for Neil, David or Michael to have an accident, an illness. About how it would never be the same if they had to recast, or if someone else wrote. Imagine GO without Michael's microexpressions, without David's face reading like an open book even with glasses on. Without Neil's love for the world he shared with Terry pouring out into every single frame of it.

2-3 years is a long time. Long enough for me to get in a car accident, to develop cancer. I already had a cancer scare in 2022; luckily, I was fine. One of my best friends got lymphoma around my age. She, luckily, is also fine now.

But one of my other best friends, who had a heart attack, just a few years older than me... He's in a wooden box in his wife's living room.

And his 10-year wedding anniversary was on July 27, 2023. The day GOS2 was released.

So here I am. A week later, trying to keep it together and failing, thinking it's just a fucking TV show, it shouldn't matter so much...

But it's never just one thing. Every pain carries the weight of all the pain that came before it. I'm carrying the weight of Karl's death, of Steph's cancer, of the family members I've lost that would take too long to list here, several before even David's age.

And I'm struggling to even draw now. Or make jewelry, or sew. The creative pursuits, the things that are supposed to make the rote office job worth it, the things it supports... I feel no joy for them. Even simple things like screenshot studies are excruciating, taking far too long. My problem-solving skills are completely drained at work, and that makes drawing so much harder.

I see so many others creating beautiful things from the pain and getting well-deserved recognition for it. But the ideas aren't coming for me, and even if they were, where would I find the energy?

I don't know how to dig myself out of this spiral. It's so very tiring, and so very, very lonely.

[cassiaratheslytherpuff]

Posted January 2023. (Originally posted a couple of years back, but I accidentally deleted it when I went to update it with more fics)

A list of podfics I absolutely adore - in alfabetical order. As always, please read the tags and warnings before listening.

Title: All Life is Yours to Miss Read by: originally reads Authour: Saras_Girl Length:~ 11h Rating: Mature Summary: Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go. This one always makes me smile. It's very focused on Draco, and his journey to figuring out how to really live his life instead of just excist in it. Beautiful story that's beautifully read in a soothing voice.

Title: An Owl Named Romeo  Read by: fire_juggler  Authour: Rickey Length:~ 3h Rating: Explicit Summary: Draco breeds owls, Harry’s an Auror, and an owl named Romeo is going to bring them together. This one has Auror!Harry and Owl breeder!Draco, and it’s a wonderfull mix of humour, mystery, angst and fluff. Romeo is an amazing owl, and fire_juggler reads the story wonderfully.

Title: Away Childish Things Read by: RattleandHum (ThirdEye1234) Authour: lettered Length:~ 14h Rating: Teen and Up Summary: Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him. Beautiful fic read so wonderfully it made me ache with all the feels.

Title: Blood Magic Read by: houseofhebrideanblacks, Thestralsofspinnersend Authours: houseofhebrideanblacks, Thestralsofspinnersend Length:~ 33h Rating: Explicit Summary: A story of thestral magic, forest lore and recovery from all the things that haunt us. This is a beautiful story of recovery, friendship, love and life. And in being a story about that it exlpores the darker sides of those same themes; illness, loneliness and death. The authours read the story themselves, giving different voices to Draco and Harry's POV. It's a beautiful listen.

Title: Blue Roses and Other Impossible Things Read by: Sandstripe Authour: Cassiara Length:~ 3h Rating: Explicit Summary: After Harry saved Draco from the Room of Requirement there was a moment when Draco gave Harry a look. Harry didn’t know what to make of it, and he had a war to fight so he ignored it. Now though, they’re back at Hogwarts sharing a dorm and Harry is obsessed with seeing that look again. I wrote this fic, but I had to rec it here anyways because Sandstripe does such a wonderful reading of it. It's an 8th year fic with coming out and first times and a little angst.

Title: Burning day: A Tale of Rebirth Read by: fire_juggler Authour: tealeaf523 Length:~ 2.5h Rating: Explicit Summary: Looking for a bit of solitude over his winter holiday, Harry Potter rents a home in Scotland, only to end up in the middle of adventure amongst the snow-blanketed hills. There is a local in Castle Valley who looks uncannily like his Hogwarts school rival, but he has no memory of meeting Harry in the past. However, Harry is determined to find out what happened to Draco Malfoy between his disappearance and finding his new identity as a charming unicorn trainer at the Scotland Unicorn Reservation for Lost Youths. Unicorns and memory loss and falling in love? Sign me up! fire_juggler did a brilliant job bringing this to life.

Title: Chasing Shadows Read by: lastontheboat Authour: manixzen Length:~ 9.5h Rating: Explicit Summary: The murder of Lucius Malfoy seems impossible—no cause of death, no traces of spell-work, no potions in his system. The only leads Harry and his partner have are the trail of missing wizards the deeper they go. That and the help of the victim’s estranged son who now spends his time bartending at a queer-friendly Muggle pub. A case fic featuring a closeted Harry Potter, an out-and-proud, tattooed Draco Malfoy, and a murder mystery that seems to lead to more questions than answers. This fic is so good! Harry has hidden being gay for years and years and his growth to live as who he is is beautifully interwoven with him and Draco falling in love and a thrilling crime plot.Also I just love Draco in this! He's grown so much and is so attentive and he makes the smut so steamy! The reading of it is so well done and just brings so much life to the fic!

Title: Foundations'Verse - Reparations, Foundations Read by: 6shotsamericano Authour: Saras_Girl Length:~10h + 27.5h Rating: Explicit Summary: Reparations: Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places. Foundations: When one door closes, another one opens – with a bit of a push. Life, love and complications. This verse was one of my first ever Drarry fics, and the podfic of it was my first ever podfic experience. Both were major influences on the fact that I now love both Drarry and podfic. The fics are a masterpiece and 6shotsamericano reads them in such a wonderfull way that it's easy to immerse yourself in the story.

Title: Headlights in the Snow Read by: magsmagicalnightmare Authour: Saras_Girl Length:~ 10h Rating: Mature Summary: What’s big and purple and smells like tea? Harry is about to find out. Advent fic 2016. You can never go wrong with Saras_Girls christmas fics, and this is another great one! And it's so brilliantly read I felt like I was on the bus listening in on conversations. magsmagicalnightmare brought this fic so much life and personality and it's brilliant!

Title: Here's the Pencil, Make it Work Read by: teas_me Authour: ignatiustrout Length:~ 5.5h Rating: Explicit Summary: Harry thinks, "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?" This one has Harry discovering Draco in the muggle world, a building friendship, coming out and wonderful humour. I loved all the friendships in this story, and the way ignatiustrout voices them.

Title: If the Fates Allow Read by: lastontheboat Authour: Saras_Girl Length:~8h Rating: Mature Summary: What's that crackling in the walls? Harry has no clue at all. He'll eat some cake and drink some wine. Because he is completely FINE. -A story about life's disregard for our plans. An advent story in podfic form?! I’ll be listening to this every single December.

Title: In Evidence of Magical Theory Read by: Sandstripe Authour: bixgirl1 Length:~ 2.5h Rating: Explicit Summary: When a hex meant for Draco accidentally catches Harry as well, they're forced to learn to understand each other in ways they previously might have thought impossible. In which Harry and Draco can't fight, so they fall in love instead. Wonderfull read of a wonderfull story! Accidental bonding and forced proximity in a Hogwarts 8th year story hits all the spots.

Title: Keep Holding On Read by: Thunder_of_Dragons Authour:  gnarf, with art by MaesterChill. Length: ~3.5h Rating: Mature Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco both fall into their own battles with their mental states. Draco is sent to Azkaban, and Harry turns to drinking, hoping to forget. Months later, Harry visits St Mungo’s new ward on the request of a friend, only to find Draco in a deep vegetative state. Not willing to give him up, Harry stays by his side, while simultaneously dealing with the Ministry's newest grand idea to make everything worse. Making new allies, and losing old ones along the way, will hopefully be worth it in the end. This deals wonderfully with healing and building a bond, and it’s read really beautifully. 

Title: Modern Love Read by: lastontheboat Authour: tackytiger Length:~ 5.5 h Rating: Explicit Summary: Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is. And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what's he doing right, that Harry isn’t? Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years. And that’s what starts it all. I really enjoyed this one. The story is really engaging and full of emotion, and the reader conveys them perfectly. 

Title: Newts Read by: Lazulus Authour: astolat Length:~ 1.5h Rating: Explicit Summary: “I’m twenty-eight!” Harry said. “I’ve been an Auror for ten years! You want me to go back to Hogwarts now?" 

Title: On a Clear Day Read by: 6shotsamericano Authour: Saras_Girl Length:~ 5h Rating: Mature Summary: Draco Malfoy is waiting for his real life to begin, and it appears that he’s not the only one. Coffee, charity, and the wisdom of the elderly. I've listened to this one too many times to count over the years. Humour, falling in love and learning to live.

Title: Open for repairs Read by: RattleandHum (ThirdEye1234) Authour: FeelsForBreakfast Length:~ 3h Rating: Mature Summary: After the war, Draco works at a tv repair shop and Harry breaks things.Feat. sad boys in jumpers and more ABBA than is probably necessary. I forgot how much I loved this fic, but the podfic made me fall in love all over again. I loved all the voices and the portrayal of the emotions.

Title: Running on air Authour: eleventy7 Length:~ 8h Rating: Teen and up Summary: Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects. This is a beautiful story and it's read just as beautifully.

Title: Secrets Read by: Opalsong Authour: Vorabiza (Biza) Length:~ 44h Rating: Explicit Summary: Beginning with Draco's unexpected arrival at the Dursleys, Harry's summer becomes filled with activity and many secrets. He generates several unexpected allies as he finds himself actively becoming the leader of the Light side. H/D post-HBP This story is an intense alternate book 7, and Opalsong reads it so engagingly. 

Title: Stately Homes of Wiltshire Read by: Lazulus Authour: waspabi Length:~ 5.5h Rating: Explicit Summary: Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case. This fic is so lovely, both the story and the reading has made me laugh on several occations. It's a mystery with love and friendships and figuring out what you want from life.

Title: Temptation on the Warfront Read by: Sandstripe Authour: alizarincrims0n Length:~ 14h Rating: Explicit Summary: Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.

Title: The Boy Who Only Lived Twice Read by: TheOneCalledEli Authour: lettered Length:~ 6h Rating: Explicit Summary: Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks. Drarry as secret spies is so much fun and excitement, and the slow falling in love and wanting but not knowing was just so perfect. And TheOneCalledEli reads it so brilliantly, it made me fall in love with this fic all over again!

Title: This Summer Read by: RattleandHum Authour: Saras_Girl Length:~ 3.5 Rating: Teen Summary: This is a summery romantic comedy featuring my favourite ensemble cast, in which Harry is confused, Draco is Draco, and Hermione attempts to eat all the things. Costume parties and pining and all the good things! This fic is sweet and funny and listening to it made me smile.

Title: Turn Read by: Queenie_Mab Authour: Saras_Girl Length:~ 37h Rating: Mature Summary: One good turn always deserves another. Apparently. This story is a classic, and the reading of it fully lives up to the quality of the written fic; absolutely wonderfull! Another one I've listened to more times than I can count.

Title: (Un)wanted Read by: aibidil Authour: aibidil Length:~4h Rating: Explicit Summary: Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected. This one is so good. It's about being lonely and feeling unwanted, but finding family and learning to accept love when offered as well as loving oneself. I love Harry and Hermione's relationship in this. Actually, the women in general are awesome.

Title: What We Pretend We Can't See Read by: FayJay Authour: Gyzym Length:~ 13h Rating: Mature/Explicit Summary: Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought. (Auror Potter is summoned to a break-in at a rather eccentric little museum in the house he used to own.) This is one of those fics where I can finish listening and just start it over again immediatly. It's got magical houses, house elf magic, friendships, humour, and I absolutely love how Draco and Harry are both written in this. FayJay gives amazing life to the charachters, and this one is just so wonderful.

Title: When Times are Dire Read by: aibidil Authour: aibidil Length:~ 14h Rating: Explicit Summary: Magical Britain is screwed, and it's once again up to Harry to save it. This time, by marrying Draco Malfoy. This fic is so interesting. It's fake relationship but done differently to anything else I've read. It's political in a way that rings true for so much that's going on in the world and it was lovely to see the characters I love fight for things I believe in!

Title: Who we are in the shadows Read by: Sandstripe Authour: Quicksilvermaid Length:~ 7h Rating: Explicit Summary: What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy's world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong? This fic feels a little like a healing bruise. By which I mean that it hurts, a little – but in a good way. Sandstripe does a brilliant job of making all the emotions come across and I'll definetly be listening to this many times.