#with a less defined and use-space: meaning no one is Certain of what it is Good for and Bad for in total

[dead-generations]

If you are blanketly anti AI I want you to know it's joever and that STEM faculty at universities are now grading on the appropriate use of AI and the ability to assess how trustworthy it can be in particular and general applications and how appropriate it's use is in a given problem space. More and more it is seen as Excel 2.0 with the benefit of doing shit engineers hate (writing for laypeople and making pretty images) but which are essential to revenue generation

[theunsinkableship1]

DEAREST FRIENDS

⚠️ Disclaimer: This is Lukolaland only. Skip if you don't ship nor believe.

Dearest Lukolashippers, for years, Nicola and Luke, have moved in a space filled with undeniable chemistry, synchronicity, and moments that fueled something deeper than mere friendship in the eyes of many. They’ve played into it, danced around it, and left room for speculation by neither confirming nor denying. But now, things have shifted.

Nicola’s recent interview, where she finally used the words “just friend», a phrase they’ve notably avoided in the past was a defining moment. She closed her eyes, took a quick breath, and said it like an apology: "I'm sorry that he's just a friend, but he is a dear friend." The wording, the delivery, the hesitation, none of it felt casual. It felt deliberate, like something that needed to be said but perhaps it wasn’t easy to deliver this message.

The act of closing one’s eyes can sometimes be a way to block out external stimuli while formulating a response. This could mean she felt a certain level of discomfort, perhaps she doesn’t like discussing this topic in such definitive terms. It could also suggest that she wished she didn’t have to answer at all. The breath before speaking might indicate a moment of internal negotiation before proceeding.

The fact that she follows this up with "But he is a dear friend" and then, later, "Luke is perfect," reinforces that there is still warmth and admiration there. But the hesitation in her body language suggests that the topic is not as simple as she wants it to appear.

The statement about friendship was something she felt obligated to say, whereas calling Luke perfect was more spontaneous. The emphasis shift could suggest a disconnect between what she wants to express and what she feels she should say publicly

Whether it’s playfulness, resignation, PR strategy, or something more personal, it’s clear that this wasn’t just an offhand remark.

And then, less than 72 hours later, Luke debuts his long-rumored girlfriend at a major fashion event. The timing is striking. For months, he seemed to be opting for privacy, never confirming, never engaging, never defending her against backlash, and never appearing fully at ease in public sightings. But suddenly, the narrative is cemented. The patterns have changed.

Luke has changed his approach. He was once silent, hesitant, and distant about this relationship. Now, suddenly, he is presenting it in an official capacity, after Nicola distanced herself with her words.

Coincidence? Unlikely.

Lukola’s synchronization remains undeniable, even in the way they navigate this shift in narrative. Whether intentional or not, they continue to mirror each other’s behavior, Nicola makes a public statement, Luke follows with a carefully timed move. It’s a pattern we’ve seen before, a rhythm they seem to fall into effortlessly.

Their bond has always been built on synchronicity, from the way they speak in unison to the unconscious mirroring in their gestures and expressions. Now, even in how they handle public perception, they remain aligned. This kind of unspoken coordination suggests an ongoing connection, whether it’s about protecting something private or simply moving in tandem as they always have.

Whatever the case, the timing is too precise to be a coincidence. The dance continues, just with a new routine.

Previously, two of the strongest arguments for the Lukolashippers were that 1: neither Luke nor Nicola ever called it "just" a friendship. That small omission left room for ambiguity, for subtext, for a space where something more could exist unspoken. And 2: the fact that Luke had never publicly acknowledged his long-rumored girlfriend, but now both things have happened

So, what do we make of this?

Something shifted. Whether it’s PR, a personal decision, the timing speaks volumes. It’s not about whether he’s with someone, it’s about why it’s being handled this way now.

Was this all coordinated? It’s highly possible. A synchronized effort to shut down speculation, to realign public perception, to take control of a story that had spiraled beyond their grasp. You don’t want your relationship to overshadow your career or let natural chemistry and attraction diminish your talent, especially when your career is just beginning to take off. Whether out of personal necessity, professional strategy, or simply to ease external pressures, they’ve made their statement.

But the lingering question remains: Why now? Why not months ago when rumors were at their peak? Why not a simple, clear acknowledgment that could have saved them from the relentless discourse? They had countless opportunities to set the record straight but remained elusive, leaving space for doubts to linger, letting ambiguity fuel the flames, until now. Yet here we are.

Why had Luke previously been reluctant to acknowledge his girlfriend. If he was taking the private approach why the change?

Why did Nicola phrase it the way she did, with hesitation and a quick breath?

Why is the timeline of events so closely linked.

If this was all about PR, the goal could be:

To remove lingering speculation that they are secretly together.

To establish Luke’s relationship in a way that doesn’t feel abrupt.

To allow Nicola to move forward without being constantly tied to Luke.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that what they had was fake, but rather that they might be transitioning to a new phase, whether that’s a real separation, a private arrangement, or something in between.

If they were (or are) involved in any way beyond friendship, the intense scrutiny could have made it difficult to navigate. The coordinated move could be an attempt to create distance, not necessarily because nothing ever happened, but because they need space to breathe without constant speculation.

By clearly defining themselves as just friends, they might be hoping to calm the intensity of their fandom’s interest. The logic could be :

If Nicola says just friends, people will have to accept it.

If Luke is seen with someone else, the speculation will die down.

If they maintain the bond behind the scenes, they can preserve their real connection without external interference.

This could be a temporary measure, especially if they are trying to figure things out privately.

Whether this was directly coordinated or simply a natural alignment of circumstances, the timing is too precise to be accidental. Nicola’s words and Luke’s actions work together to establish a new public image, whether it’s entirely reflective of reality or not. Ultimately, this could be:

A mutual decision to shift focus away from their relationship dynamics.

A move to protect their bond by reducing outside pressure.

A way to create distance for personal or professional reasons.

A redirection of attention whether toward other relationships, their careers, or a more private arrangement.

The first thing we should accept is the reality they present to us at this moment, as it is highly likely to reflect their current truth.

No matter what the current truth is, one thing is clear: This was not a random occurrence. It was a deliberate shift in narrative, one that raises more questions than it answers.

It's time to take a step back and let this breathe. Nicola and Luke have clearly coordinated their messaging, and this is the narrative they’ve chosen to put forward. Whether it’s the absolute truth or just the version they want the world to accept, it’s their life, their choices, and their prerogative. We should not send them or their close ones any negativity. We only see what they choose to show us, and like all human beings, they have their own reasons and emotions. In my opinion, they don’t deserve hate, they need respect. As I’ve mentioned, I appreciate their work and talent, but the only reason I’m here is because I love their love.

Whatever the reason, they have chosen this path, and it’s one that deserves to be respected. This isn’t about being buffeted by the wind, but about letting it guide the sails. If this is the story they want to tell, so be it. Whether it’s the full truth or a narrative built for necessity, only time will reveal what lies beneath the surface.

For now, I take a step back, not because I’ve stopped believing, but because I recognize the signals they’ve given. Some truths take time to unfold, and if there’s one thing Nicola and Luke have taught us, it’s that not everything is as simple as it seems.

There’s no love lost here, only the ebb and flow of tides, the natural rhythm of a journey that isn’t necessarily over, just momentarily obscured. History has shown us that where there’s smoke, there’s often fire. The question isn’t whether the fire has burned out, but whether it’s simply smoldering beneath the surface, waiting for the right conditions to ignite again. And the vessel will follow the glow of the beautiful flame to be guided through the rough waters.

Many couples have charted similar courses before finally finding their way back to each other. Tom Holland and Zendaya spent years insisting they were just friends, even dating other people, before finally making their relationship public. For example, David & Victoria Beckham (kept their early relationship low-key) or Ryan Gosling & Eva Mendes Even classic Hollywood saw the likes of Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward navigating relationships before settling into a lifelong love. The list goes on, proof that timing, public perception, and even a little misdirection often plays a role in love stories that unfold at their own pace.

So, is this ship lost at sea, or merely waiting out the storm? Sometimes, when the waters are uncertain, the best course of action is to drop anchor and wait. Wait for the skies to clear, for the waves to calm, for the true direction to reveal itself. The Lukola ship may not be sailing in plain sight right now, but that doesn’t mean it has sunk. Some journeys take detours, but the current always has a way of pulling things back to where they belong.

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

this is reminding me of how sexual dimorphism is cool to me, but im afriad if i try to use it for designing characters, people will call me transphobic or something

I mean all you gotta do is not act like there are two sexes and nothing in between

in evolutionary biology, we see that variation in traits tends to fall into one of two general shapes (obviously I am oversimplifying, humor me): bell curve, and reverse bell curve

some traits are best in an niche if they are in the "middle of the road" (bell curve)

and some are best at either extreme (reverse bell curve)

but theres never NOTHING at the ends or the middle

so we expect to see low levels of variation in that non-ideal space

and we see that with sexual characteristics in every group! humans have a wide variety of less common variation between the two end-peaks of commonly associated traits

IE, the "biosex" of "female" is defined by XX chromosomes AS WELL AS certain hormonal traits, primary sexual characteristics, and secondary sexual characteristics

but tons of people fall in that "middle" space between the two extremes of "male" and "female" and these conditions (aka, variations of hormonal, sexual, or genetic characteristics related to reproductive biology) are what we know as "intersex"

and NONE of these have ANYTHING to do with societal roles, presentation, external appearance, or personal identity

emphasizing that gender is separate from "biosex" which is still a social construct

so having your sexual dimorphism not be FULLY dimorphic, bc that doesn't exist; and having gender roles separate from that dimorphism; and mazal tov! no transphobia or intersexism!

[exocynraku]

I like to say that I absolutely adore how you design your feline characters and make them very unique. You’re my favorite warrior cat artist because of it! How do you go about designing your characters?

halloo... thank you! this ones a bit harder for me to explain, but i'll try! i'm going to specifically talk about cats, but these could be used for other types of characters, mostly furries. note: um, guess who talks too much! i had to split this post into four. so check the reblogs! 1. placing markings with PURPOSE (this is the big one!!!) it was only recently i finally managed to find a way to word this. to create a good design, you need to understand how to place markings with purpose. to me, there are two components to this: spacing/size and body wrapping. body wrapping first. this is how the markings on a cat's pelt wrap and contort around their body. bodies are not flat surfaces, they have plenty of curves, ridges, etc, which will alter the shape of markings placed on top of them. the markings on your character both needs to contort to the shape of the body part AND how it would look from the viewer's perspective. here's some examples;

in the first picture, you can see how i wrap the markings around the cylindrical shape of the leg. in the second picture, you can see both that i've wrapped the markings around the shape of the arm and belly, but likely also that the marking i've specifically highlighted on the arm is being smushed because of the bending of the arm. this leads to a better design, as when you look at it, i feels more natural than if you were to plaster markings over the cat in a straight line. here's a real-life example.

you can see how the markings curve around the body, though i find it's sometimes less pronounced as i would portray it in art. but it's there. sizing and spacing are second. these are less realistic aspects, as cat markings tend to be very random, however it art it leads to a cleaner, more readable & desirable design. sizing and spacing also have a lot to do with consistency. it's also... a little hard to show. i don't find myself messing it up in old pieces, and the designs i do know of which do this are... from strangers. who i would feel bad throwing under the bus for having designs i don't like LMFAO. but i can do my best to describe them. the size of your markings should stay relatively consistent throughout your design. what i mean by this is if you have large, thick stripes along your whole character's body, i wouldn't recommended adding one random thin, pinstripe-y stripe on your characters body. if you want to give them thin and thick stripes, then you need to have BOTH consistently throughout the body. or, give it a balance. thick stripes on the body, neck and tail, and thinner stripes on the face and legs, for example. very, very small markings are GOING to go unseen by you or others drawing the design, i absolutely guarantee it. similarly, the spacing of your markings should stay relatively consistent. for me this mostly occurs in tabby cats. if i draw, for example, the character's body stripes a certain distance apart, i'm not going to suddenly change that distance on another part of their body, such as their legs. the main issues i find with sizing and spacing is when people have issues with BOTH of them at the same time. random markings everywhere with all sorts of sizes and shapes and spacing will make your design cluttered, unreadable and unappealing. even on characters you'd think would be exceptions to this, such as randomly spotted characters/tortoiseshells, i still think about. how can i place these spots or patches in a way that will properly define the markings, making it easy to understand? how can i place spots to not make them too cluttered in certain area? etc. it's definitely a bit hard to explain, especially without visuals, but i tried lol (SOBS) (see reblogs for CONT.)

[drchucktingle]

Is there a reason you didn't include an acknowledgements section in Camp Damascus?

yes actually, as man name of chuck i have spent a lot of time FINDING MY IDENTITY through masking and unmasking. in early days there were many more layers hiding me away and it took a while for me to understand WHY. over the last ten years buckaroos have very much seen me find myself through art, accepting and talking about my sexuality, neurodivergence, and gender.

there is ALWAYS a layer to protect my privacy, and to allow myself room for POETRY. example i like to give is that if i post 'i pet a dog today' i might have actually pet a cat, but everything i say is true is some sense. in the early days that truth was stretched farther because even i did not quite understand it my dang self, and it has been my journey to strip away as much of this mask as possible (sometimes called removing my skin) and BECOME MYSELF on this timeline (which is something i have always talked about)

if you have been following chuck for the last decade you will see my older posts were much more abstract and difficult to parse, they reference themes that i have since come to terms with, and this journey to find myself is WHY i have been able to do this. some could say it was the journey of a reverse twin adapting to their new timeline, others could say it was the journey of a neurodivergent artist allowing themselves the freedom to find a healthy expression and conquer their chronic pain from constant neurotypical masking.

FOR INSTANCE this is why i am wearing buckaroo suits on tour now, an outfit that is more true to the INNER ME. i used to answer interview questions with metaphor and now i just answer, only hiding certain details when i need to. i talk less about figures in my life back in billings who were REAL IDEAS and PARTS OF MYSELF but sometimes not flesh and blood or ghostly buckaroos. this is my trot, and this is why i am so strongly against gatekeepers in the buckaroo community. i have been becoming myself long before i knew what that meant.

so when it came time for acknowledgments i realized i would have to acknowledge buckaroos who helped along the way but also ABSTRACT IDEAS who helped along the way, symbols and themes that i have since decided i wanted to leave behind. it was important to me to create a new era of my expression where those abstract layers are respected but also stripped away. i have to respect the inner truth i am trying to cultivate, for way of my mental health and also my physical health.

so i DID write out acknowledgments and sent them to my buckaroos privately, then i said please do not include this in the public book. these days i want to hide behind as few layers as possible, that is my artistic journey now. buckaroos were very respectful and supportive.

very quick before we finish, there was one other small and important reason. i am so sincere ALL the dang time it is kind of my natural state to get very emotional and thankful, that i kinda thought 'i am going to give myself space here to NOT stress out over this for once'. i am constantly thinking about acknowledging others and i LOVE this part of my trot, but doing it in a way that is so defined and specific and maybe even performative (gotta write your acknowledgments now bud. HAVE to do it) felt at odds with my inner way.

anyway thank you for this very good question what a dang treat to talk about this detail and how much it means to me to find truth in my inner trot.

[ghouljams]

hi ghoul :) i remember seeing that you have a degree in gender studies and i’m taking a class in that right now so i just wanted to ask if you had some book recommendations about gender! fictional or nonfictional! if not then that’s totally fine and thank u anyway <3

"The Essential Feminist Reader" collected by Estelle B Freedman is a great collection of feminist and proto-feminist essays that I truly believe everyone should read in their first gender studies class. It's going to show you where the movement started and how long people have been fighting for gender equality. Also it's always fun to read Mary Wollstonecraft, an icon. It's also a good showing of the men who participated in proto-feminism, because I think we forget that not every man opposed gender equality (even waaaaay back) and it's fun to see them talk about how great women are and how they should be treated like goddesses lmao

"Assata" by Assata Shakur is a really fantastic memoir about being a black woman during the height of the Black Panther movement. It's also a really gripping look inside the revolutionary groups that were gaining traction during the 60s/70s and the way the US government attempted to sabotage, infiltrate, and eventually dismantle both Black and White led groups. I found Assata's voice to be refreshing and also incredibly unapologetic in the way she addresses both her alleged crime as well as the crimes that were committed against her. This one focuses more less on gender and more on race, but there's definitely a lot of intersection going on.

"Stone Butch Blues" by Leslie Feinberg is an essential read if you want to look at the intersection of sexuality and gender. It's a fantastic look at the way we present ourselves as well as the way we are perceived, especially by people who are supposed to be our allies. There's a really great discussion in this one about how sex is used to define gender for certain marginalized groups and how queer spaces both embrace and reject the "other" within them. I think every queer woman should read this book (not assigning you any labels, just a general recommendation) because it picks apart so much of what it means to be a woman who is also queer.

Literally anything by bell hooks, but that's a given. I like "Feminist Theory from Margin to Center" a lot because she's incredibly frank with her look at the feminist movement and some of the exclusionary politics that go on within it. She has two books exploring masculinity that are from the early 2000s which have been on my list for ages as well. Love bell hooks.

I'll try to think up more but I always enjoy looking back at second wave feminist books. They're less afraid to address the elephants in the room and call out full stop the racism and trans/homophobia that is latent in the movement of the time. I am also of a belief that learning the history of a movement is the only way to truly progress forwards within it. So much of what we see in fringe/conservative "feminism" is failing to address (and often direction contradicting) many of the issues that people were fighting to push past in the 80s. I think about my mom and how she asked me "I was fighting against 'defining' womanhood, why are people so keen to define it again?" and idk I carry that with me often.

Anyway I'm a gender abolitionist because of my degree so like... take my opinion with a grain of salt.

[mesetacadre]

(Different anon to the one who asked the original question)

Can you elaborate on this part of your post or give reading recs?

"The student, housing, queer, etc. movements will have varying importance depending on time and place, will be more or less permeable to communist positions, and it'll be more or less useful to participate in them. But the worker's movement, whose mobilizations always have a direct relation with the mode of production and capitalism's prime contradiction, should at all times be the focus of any pretension of revolutionary work."

I've been interested in this for a while, but I don't have enough knowledge to have a fully-fledged opinion. I just know I dislike the common "we shouldn't get involved with feminism/trans rights/[insert 'controversial' issue of the time] because it distracts from the worker's movement" or alternative "divides the working class" I hear on social media. I do not think the party needs to be involved in every space, and that sometimes we can even build alliances without dedicating our few and precious resources to work in certain movements, but I think the party lines do need to be defined and its members as well versed as possible in dialectical materialism to reach the appropriate conclusions. The issue is, knowing where to intervene and where to remain on the sideline seems a very complicated decision that some parties seem to base purely on "what are people talking about right now" and that also seems like an error, though I struggle to define how.

I'm not saying that those issues are distracting or unimportant, I'm describing the workers shift. The worker's movement must be a priority and the spine of a CP's work, because it's the closeness that it achieves with the working class at the whirlwind of class struggle that allows a party to actually exert a vanguard role. It's the recognition of the proletariat as the revolutionary class, the class that capitalism itself places as the bourgeoisie's undertaker because of its position in the capitalist mode of production.

Having said this, there are many more ways, or fronts, in which capitalism keeps the working class subjugated, and yes, divided. However saying that those other fronts divide the working class does not mean that they should be ignored, waved away as unimportant, on the contrary. It necessarily concludes that, if your goal is the unity of the working class in a single party, then the work in those fronts should be focused in that sense. Not abandon them, but also participate in these fronts just like a CP can participate in a worker-aristocratic union, to promote through the consistent allyship that only a consistent class position can bring the view of these structural oppressions through a class lens. Talk and fight for the struggle of gay, trans, migrant, women workers, because it is only by eliminating the infiltration of bourgeois demands in these movements that they can ever achieve liberation. If bourgeoisie feminism divides the working class across gender, then the only way to mend that division is to make feminist movements be hegemonically proletarian in class content through the intervention of the CP, not to completely abandon the fight against structural mysogyny.

So while I do agree with you that these phrases (divide the working class, it's a distraction, less important, etc) are generally said by reactionary workerists, I think they're taking a kernel of truth to form a lazy excuse for their prejudice. Marxism understands capitalism in its totality, starting from the abstract to work towards the most concrete, that is, complete, understanding of the mechanisms and relations of capitalism. Recognizing that these movements don't directly deal with the core of the mode of production should not mean disregarding them, it should mean engaging with them with the purview that the structures of oppression they fight are still important for capitalism's continued existence, and that therefore, can only really be removed by destroying the mode of production itself.

So I'd say that the criteria for a party's engagement with these questions should be to aspire to work for the proletariat's hegemony in all of them, and working towards that through prioritization without ever losing sight of the workers shift, because that's what gives the engagement in those other fronts any purpose. Looking at Europe, which what the text you quoted is dealing with, and also the context I know best, I think the priority fronts are migrant workers, working women, and trans workers, because the first two's oppression has a direct relevance to the current form of production in Europe, and because all three form the main avenues of attack against our class that reactionaries take.

The entire 9th issue of the International Communist Review deals with placing workers at the center of communist organizing (though I can't vow for what every participating party says or implies about these other fronts), and I've also talked more about how rejecting the centrality of work has come about in the historical CPs.

[doberbutts]

You mentioned in response to another ask that you don't use "transandrophobia" because the trans theory you were taught by trans women told you that "transmisogyny" covered those things and that is a total revelation to me. I've been thinking for a long time that it seemed to me that the idea of transmisogyny *does* cover transandrophobia, it just impacts trans femmes and trans mascs differently a lot of the time. But I had no idea that there has been theory/discussion that says this. I'm more used to the idea of "TMA" with the implication that only trans women are affected by transmisogyny. Is that more of a new thing and transmisogyny used to be considered as a more broad term? And would you trace that change to the same issue you're talking about with a lot of current feminism forgetting how feminism is also a "men's issue"?

Idk if I would call it "new" per say. The word trans-misogyny was coined in 2007 and did not include trans men, but the book in which it was coined did mention that language was likely needed to describe the trans man experience as well. There have been a number of different attempts, but none have really stuck.

I went to college starting in 2010, so roughly 3 years after Serrano coined the word. While in college, my school's GSA wanted LGBT elders to come and talk to all the scared freshly-minted adults who were trying to figure out this being gay thing. The woman who ran my GSA found a Trans woman who was willing to be my mentor and sponsor, she wrote my letters for me back when that was still necessary for medical transition, and we met frequently for her to teach me more or less how to be trans safely. Some things she did not know- how to bind safely, how to attach a semi-permenant packer, etc. But others she knew very well, because she herself dealt with both being seen as a man by society as well as the effects of testosterone on her body for decades before she transitioned.

Anyway. This woman was great, and is a significant portion of the reason I'm still alive to this day. And she is who taught me the word transmisogyny, and that it should really cover all trans people because all trans people experience an intersection of transphobia and misogyny. Whether that was popular theory at the time or not, that is what us young kids learned directly from the mouths of trans women at my college, which to me means that others were also learning this particular version of transfeminist theory.

Unfortunately by the time I dropped out of college in 2013/2014, online trans spaces were having stupid arguments such as "transtrenders are bad" and "neopronouns are bad" and "nonbinary people are cis people who want to feel special" and "trans men should be hunted for sport" and "trans women are incel nazis" and. Well. I went "wow this place is a cesspit and I feel like no one here has actually talked to another transgender person face to face" and then did not engage with the online community. So I don't really know how common or popular the understanding I was taught was at the time, though it certainly seems quite rare now.

(As a caveat I don't really think trans people of any gender have anything that isn't similar with each other when it comes to oppression, outside of certain bodily things that can't be helped because that's literally the thing we're transgender about, and I think we all experience very similar oppression but sometimes with a different hat)

As for what caused this particular defining to fall into obscurity? I really can't say. I don't know how popular the transfeminist theory the trans women who spoke at my GSA meetings taught us actually was in the broader world. Every once in a while I meet someone who lived through that same time who remembers that theory, which tells me it had gained at least some traction if it was being discussed in multiple parts of the country, but... that's really it. And it's pretty unpopular theory nowadays, I get people calling me a scumbag and claiming that I say transmisogyny doesn't exist just for mentioning that the theory I was taught includes trans men in the discussion.

But I don't think it's specifically the whole TMA/TME thing. I think it's a lack of understanding of what oppression and what intersectionality are, how they operate, how they work, how we define things through them. There are many people who believe that men do not experience misogyny. But, they do, that's why it's an insult to a boy to call him a girl during a moment of femininity or vulnerability, as a means of calling him weak because girls are believed to be weak. There are many people who think intersectionality turns oppression into additives, as though stacking marginalizations like dnd buffs. This also falls apart because oppression is not like quick math where you add a +5 to every roll if any part of your identity is privileged and a -7 if any part is oppressed.

I've had people get mad at me for saying that straight people experience homophobia while we also have sitting politicians that make jokes on live TV about how they'd drown their (presumably straight) children if they found out their kids were gay. For saying that GNC cis people experience transphobia when butches are getting kicked out of bathrooms and drag queens are getting jumped in bars. For reminding people that when Sikhs are killed due to being mistaken for Muslim in this country that hates Muslims over a national tragedy our Muslim population did not cause, it's still considered and called Islamophobia, because just because Americans are too stupid to tell a Sikh from a Muslim doesn't mean they weren't spurred into that hate crime by their rampant hatred of Muslims and the sight of a turban and long beard.

[lilmisshellfireswritingblog]

The Prophecy Chapter 5: Let It Once Be Me

Summary: Lucius and Aurelia bond.

A/N: I am back! Thank you for following along. This is more of a filler chapter but our Empress and Emperor bond and we love to see it. I have like three WIPs and this one is ever so present in my brain....

Warnings: forced marriage, kissing, Geta being a dick, use of flashbacks

Separator banner credit to: sweetmelodygraphics.

It had been nearly a month since the Senate had tested them both, since that night when Aurelia had stood before the assembly and defended their union with a strength she hadn’t known she had or wanted to have. In the days that followed, there had been more meetings, more formalities and more attempts to define what their relationship would be as Emperor and Empress of Rome. They’d learned to function together, to stand united in front of the Senate, but behind closed doors, the marriage still felt like a fragile, untested thing—something that existed more in the realm of duty than desire.

However, tonight was different. There was something in the air—a subtle shift that neither of them could explain. The palace was quiet now, the usual bustle of advisors and courtiers having faded into the background. Aurelia had dismissed most of the attendants earlier, craving solitude after a day full of speeches, meetings, and the ever-present undercurrent of political maneuvering.

She stood before a mirror in the grand dressing room, staring at her reflection with a mixture of weariness and determination. The weight of the imperial robes felt heavy on her shoulders and the gold laurel wreath she wore seemed more like a burden than a symbol of power. She reached up to remove it, her fingers trembling slightly, but before she could, the door to the room opened.

Lucius stepped in without knocking, as was his usual way—no pretense, no formality. His piercing blue eyes found her immediately, and for a moment, they just stood there in silence, neither of them saying anything. He was dressed in a simple tunic, the black fabric a sharp contrast to the golden robes he’d worn earlier in the day. His dark hair was tousled from the long day, and the way he stood—hands casually resting on his hips—made him seem like an Emperor but yet entirely human.

"Is this how it’s always going to be?" he asked, his voice low but with a certain wry edge. He nodded toward her reflection in the mirror. "The crown, the robe, the constant formality?"

Aurelia raised an eyebrow at his reflection, her lips curling into a faint, amused smile. "Do you expect something less formal from the Empress of Rome, Lucius?" she teased, not looking away from the mirror.

Lucius chuckled softly, crossing the room toward her. "I don’t know. Maybe I’m hoping for a little... less grandeur. Something more..." His voice trailed off, and his gaze fell to the empty space between them, as if trying to find the right words.

"More what?" Aurelia asked, intrigued despite herself.

"More human," he said, his voice suddenly more serious than she expected. He stood beside her now, leaning casually against the stone wall, his blue eyes meeting hers in the mirror. "Less of the queen and more of the woman. Do you know what I mean?"

Her breath caught in her chest. There was something in his tone, something unguarded, that made her feel as though she wasn’t just a political pawn anymore. She wasn’t just the Empress or his wife—she was Aurelia.

And she hadn’t been just Aurelia for years. 

"I think I do," she said slowly, her fingers brushing against the edge of the crown on her head. She removed it and set it gently on the table beside her. The cool, heavy metal felt like a weight lifted from her brow. "But it’s not that simple, is it? This is Rome. We don’t get to drop the titles and just be. We are what the Empire makes us. Besides, the Aurelia I was before all of the Empire - I don’t think she exists anymore.”

He tilted his head, a faint smile curling on his lips. "I don’t know. I think Rome has always been about more than just titles. It’s about the people, too. The ones who actually live here. The ones who, every day, don’t get to play by the rules of power and court politics. They just... live."

Aurelia’s heart skipped a beat at his words. The rawness of it, the simplicity—it was unlike anything she had expected from Lucius. He’d always been so composed, so controlled, but in this moment, he seemed to be searching for something—perhaps for her, for something more than just the role they were both forced into.

"And what do you want, Lucius?" she asked, turning to face him fully, her voice quieter now. "What do you want when the titles, the robes, and the politics aren’t in the way?"

Lucius smiled, but it wasn’t the hard, calculated smile of an emperor—it was something softer. Something real. "I want to see who you really are, Aurelia. Not just the Empress, not just the woman Rome expects you to be. The real you. The woman behind all of this," he said, gesturing vaguely toward the palace, toward the Empire that had consumed them both.

Aurelia stared at him for a moment, taken aback by his directness. It was something she wasn’t used to—people looking at her, not just her role, not just her status. And for the first time, she realized how much she longed for that, too. To be seen for who she was. To be Aurelia, not just the pawn of Rome’s political machine.

"You’ve seen me already," she said, her voice quieter. 

Lucius laughed softly, the sound rich and warm. "Maybe. But I don’t think I’ve seen everything yet."

The playfulness in his tone made her heart flutter—something she hadn’t expected. She stepped closer to him, the space between them charged now, the air crackling with a strange, new energy. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, everything else in the room—the Empire, the Senate, the crown—faded into the background.

"What do you want to see, then?" she asked, her voice suddenly softer, more intimate.

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Maybe I just want to see the woman who isn’t afraid to laugh. The one who isn’t afraid to live a little, even if it’s only for a moment when we have time to set the Empire aside.”

Aurelia’s breath caught in her chest. There it was—the invitation, subtle but clear. She couldn’t help but smile, her lips curving upward. It wasn’t a smile of royalty, not a smile of duty—it was something real, something that was just her.

"You’re a bold man, Lucius Verus," she said, her voice a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something more uncertain. "Is that how you always speak to people? Or am I special?"

He grinned, his eyes flickering with something she hadn’t expected—a spark of mischief. "Only the ones who interest me."

Her smile widened and for a heartbeat, she felt something shift between them—something less about their roles, less about the duty they both carried, and more about the two of them as people. They were no longer just Emperor and Empress. It felt like she was a child again. Hopeful even. 

They were Aurelia and Lucius. For once they could just be themselves and not have to worry about the Empire. 

"Well," she said softly, moving just a bit closer, "I hope I do interest you."

Lucius’s expression softened and for a long moment, neither of them said anything. The tension between them was palpable now, the shift undeniable. There was something magnetic about the way they stood there, so close, yet still unsure of how to bridge the gap completely.

"I think you do," he replied, his voice low. And then, with a small, teasing smile, he added, "I think I’d like to get to know you better, Aurelia. Much better."

The flirtation hung in the air, playful but laden with something more—a promise, perhaps, of something more to come. Aurelia couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement. She was no longer just a political partner, a piece of the Empire’s machinery. She was herself, and that, for the first time in a long while, felt like enough.

"Well, then," she said, her voice a bit breathless.

Lucius’s grin widened, a glimmer of something new—a hint of warmth, of genuine interest. "I look forward to it."

For the first time since she had become an Empress, Aurelia felt the weight of the Empire lift—if only for a moment—leaving only the two of them, standing there, on the edge of something neither of them could yet define.

Flashback ~ What Life Was Like

It had been a time of gilded isolation.

Aurelia sat in the grand, dimly lit hall of the imperial palace, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the smooth edge of a marble table. The air was thick with the scent of incense, which mingled with the weight of oppressive silence. Her surroundings, vast and opulent, were meant to inspire awe in any visitor—gleaming columns, the soft glow of golden lamps, intricate mosaics that depicted Rome’s triumphs over its enemies. Yet, for Aurelia, the luxury felt suffocating.

Her gaze wandered to the floor, where a servant was arranging purple flower petals for the evening’s banquet. The sound of her soft footsteps was the only sound that filled the silence between them. Aurelia had long since ceased to care for these grand displays. Everything, it seemed, had become a performance—a pageantry she could neither partake in nor escape from.

Across the room, the throne of Emperor Geta stood empty. Though she had once believed that the seat of power would imbue her with the sense of importance she had dreamed of when she was young, she now found the empty throne to be a reminder of all the things she had lost.

Her marriage to Geta had never been a love match. Her family, desperate to secure their own position in Rome, had arranged the union, hoping it would elevate them. She, a highborn woman with a sharp mind and a keen understanding of politics, had come to the imperial court with grand aspirations of power—of leading alongside her husband. But Geta had always kept her at arm’s length, a distant ruler who seldom involved her in any decision of importance. He was a man ruled by suspicion, even cruelty, and his cold demeanor had always kept her at bay.

They had been married for nearly two years now. Two years of watching him rule with an iron fist, of feeling his icy indifference toward her. Despite her noble birth and her intelligence, despite her natural grace and the strength she possessed within, Geta had never truly seen her as his equal. She was Empress in name only. To him, she was little more than an ornament for the court—a figurehead.

The sharp sound of footsteps echoed through the hall, drawing Aurelia from her reverie. Her heart quickened, and she stood up, smoothing the layers of her dress, the fine fabric rustling around her. She turned to face the door, where the figure of Emperor Geta emerged.

He was a striking man, his dark eyes piercing, his expression always a mixture of arrogance and brooding dissatisfaction. His frame was imposing, his movements calculated. Yet, despite his external power, there was always a certain fragility to him—an insecurity that gnawed at the edges of his confidence. Aurelia could feel it, even if she did not acknowledge it aloud.

“Ah. My Empress… Are you ready for the banquet?” he asked, his voice cold, as though speaking to a subordinate.

Aurelia nodded, masking the frustration she felt deep inside. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied, her voice steady, though she couldn’t hide the weariness beneath it. She had long since stopped expecting warmth from him, but the emptiness of their interactions cut deeper with each passing day. It was almost as though her very presence was a burden to him.

“Good,” he said curtly, barely sparing her a glance before walking toward the gilded doors that led to the banquet hall. He did not wait for her to follow. He never did.

Aurelia stood still for a moment, letting the heaviness of the moment wash over her. The palace, the empire, her marriage—they all felt like a gilded cage. She was trapped by her title, by the expectations of her family, by the political machinations that surrounded her. She was not a partner in governance; she was a symbol—an accessory to his rule.

She followed him to the banquet, her every step measured, her heart hardened by years of silence. She entered the grand hall behind him, where the guests were already gathered—senators, generals, wealthy patricians, all partaking in the splendor of the empire’s wealth. There were laughing voices, clinking goblets of wine, and the warmth of firelight casting long shadows on the stone walls. But for Aurelia, it felt like a performance. She was simply another figure among them, her status as Empress making her the center of attention, but never allowing her to truly belong.

Geta had taken his place at the head of the table, as always. He barely acknowledged her presence when she sat beside him, his gaze drifting past her as he spoke with a senator on his left. Aurelia stared down at her goblet, swirling the wine, her thoughts miles away. The lavish feast, the sweet fruits and delicate pastries, the elaborate platters of roasted meats—none of it brought her comfort. Her mind wandered to the emptiness of their marriage, to the distance between them that seemed only to grow as the days wore on.

For the briefest of moments, her eyes flickered to a young general across the room—Tiberius, a man of strength and courage whom Aurelia had met a few times at official events. There was a glimmer of warmth in his smile whenever their eyes met, a subtle acknowledgement of shared frustration with the court. Aurelia quickly turned away, her breath catching in her throat. It wasn’t that she found him attractive—no, it was something more dangerous than that. It was the quiet recognition in his gaze, the understanding that she was more than just a figurehead. He saw her.

But of course, she could never act on such a thing. Not while Geta ruled.

The evening dragged on. Aurelia’s interactions with the other guests were formal, polite, as always. She engaged in conversation with senators, her words clipped but measured. Her smile was reserved for the public, and though she knew how to play the part, every moment of it felt like a lie. She couldn’t help but feel like an outsider in her own life.

When the banquet finally ended, and the guests slowly trickled out of the hall, Aurelia was left alone with Geta once again. He had barely spoken to her throughout the evening, consumed by his own concerns and the ongoing political games he was playing with the senators and generals.

She stood by the door as he moved to leave, her heart aching for something—anything—that could make her feel truly seen. But Geta didn’t notice. He never did.

“Aurelia,” he said, his voice distant, almost as though he were speaking to a servant. “Make sure your chambers are prepared tonight. I will be there shortly.”

Her heart clenched in her chest at the dismissal. She swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth, her throat tight. But she nodded, as she always did. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

As Geta exited the room, Aurelia stood there, feeling smaller with each passing second. The silence enveloped her once again, the weight of the palace pressing in on her. There was no love here. There never had been. Only duty. Only the cold, suffocating politics of Rome.

In that moment, she realized the truth that had been building in her for so long: she was not loved here, not truly. She was an asset, a tool in a political game. She had tried, for a time, to win her husband’s affection, to find some way to warm his cold heart. But the effort had always been in vain.

Aurelia’s hand clenched into a fist at her side, her knuckles turning white as she fought to keep her composure. The realization stung, but it was a sting she had grown accustomed to. In time, she would learn to wear the crown without longing for the affection it had failed to provide.

She turned and left the hall, her steps echoing in the empty corridors as she walked toward her chambers. Alone. 

Always alone.

The night had settled over Rome like a blanket, the cool evening air filtering through the open windows of the Imperial chambers. The palace was quiet now, the bustle of the court and the weight of their first day as rulers fading into the background. Aurelia  sat by the hearth, the soft glow of the fire casting dancing shadows on her face, her thoughts far from the polished, orderly world of politics and power that they had navigated earlier in the day.

Lucius Verus had long since retired to the other side of the room, taking a seat at the long table where scrolls and reports had been hastily abandoned. His cloak was discarded across a nearby chair, and the golden laurel wreath that signified his imperial authority sat forgotten on the table next to him. The informalities of the day had peeled away his usual stoic demeanor, and for the first time since their wedding, Aurelia saw him not as an emperor, but as a man—vulnerable, perhaps, but also strangely familiar and perhaps, relatable.

Her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer than she meant to. He had removed the tight formal tunic, his muscular frame now encased only in a tunic of simple linen, his dark hair messy from a long day of work and council meetings. He was still the warrior—he couldn’t shed that part of himself, not even when it was just the two of them. There was something else there too, something she hadn’t expected. Something raw, human. It was a side of him that made her feel less like a prisoner in this marriage and more like a partner, though the line was still delicate given the circumstances.

He caught her gaze, his piercing blue eyes meeting hers across the room, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was thick but not uncomfortable. It was as if they were both waiting for the other to break it, to make the next move, to give a sign that they were no longer just husband and wife in the eyes of the Empire, but something more.

Aurelia looked away first, but not before she saw the flicker of something in his eyes—something that wasn’t about duty, politics, or the Empire. It was just… him. Lucius Verus, the gladiator turned emperor, a man who had spent years fighting for survival, now standing on the edge of something he had never intended to find. Something neither of them had bargained for.

She pulled her gaze back to the fire, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her wine goblet. The taste of it still lingered on her tongue, a reminder of the ceremonial banquet they’d shared earlier. The lavish meal, the formal toasts, the endless speeches. Yet none of it felt real—not compared to this moment. This quiet, unscripted moment in the stillness of their chambers.

Lucius stood then, moving toward her, his bare feet silent on the marble floor. He didn’t speak right away, but his presence was enough. Every step he took felt like an unspoken challenge, a question hanging between them. What were they, really? Were they just two people forced into a marriage for the sake of an empire, or was there something else starting to bloom between them? Something fragile, maybe, but real?

"Do you ever think about how this all happened?" Lucius’s voice was softer than usual, almost hesitant, as though he were treading into dangerous territory. He paused beside her, close enough that she could feel his warmth. "About the roles we’ve been given? About what we’ve lost to get here?"

Aurelia’s chest tightened at his words, but she didn’t look at him. She kept her eyes fixed on the fire, watching the flames dance, but the weight of his question settled heavily in her chest. It had been only a few days since their wedding, but it already felt like years. What had they lost? What had she lost? Her husband Geta. Her autonomy. Her dreams.

"Every day," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, a small flicker of bitterness lacing the words. "I think about it all the time. The life I had before I married Geta, the things I thought I could control. And now... this." She gestured vaguely, indicating the palace, the crown, the empire that bound them both. "I was never supposed to be here still.”

Lucius was quiet for a moment, his eyes studying her closely, his gaze piercing in a way that made her feel as if he could see every one of her secrets. Slowly, he lowered himself onto the armrest of the chair beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, but not touching her. Yet, in the space between them, something shifted.

"We’re both here, Aurelia," Lucius said, his voice lower now, more intimate. "You might not have chosen it, but neither did I. I didn’t ask for any of this. But here we are. Together."

The words felt strange coming from him. Lucius Verus, the gladiator who had survived the worst of Rome’s brutality, the man who had fought his way to power for the honor of Rome. For all his bravado, there was something different in the way he spoke now. Vulnerable, perhaps, or just honest. It was a side of him that Aurelia hadn’t expected, a side of him that made her question everything she had believed about him.

She turned toward him then, her breath catching in her throat as their eyes met again, and for the first time, she didn’t feel the anger that had been simmering in her since the day they were wed. Instead, there was something softer in her heart—a quiet understanding, maybe even a flicker of trust.

And, just like that, the distance between them felt smaller.

"You’re right," she said softly, her voice a little unsteady. "Here we are." Her lips curled into the faintest of smiles, a smile that held no pretense, no obligation—just the fragile reality of two people trying to make sense of the mess they’d found themselves in. 

Lucius didn’t respond with words. He reached out, slowly, as though waiting for her to pull away, but when she didn’t, his fingers brushed gently against hers. The contact was light at first, tentative, as if they were both testing the waters, uncertain of what it would mean.

But in that touch, something unspoken passed between them. Something raw. Something real.

Her heart began to race, and she found herself leaning toward him before she could stop herself. He did the same, as if drawn to her by an invisible thread that neither of them could explain.

And then, finally, he closed the distance.

Lucius’s lips were warm, his kiss slow at first, like the soft brush of a breeze across the skin. But then, as if the world had fallen away, it deepened, a kiss that was no longer just the joining of two people by duty, but the merging of something else—something fragile and tender and unexpected. It wasn’t a kiss of passion, not yet. It was the kiss of two people who had been bound together by circumstance but were beginning to feel the stirrings of something more.

Aurelia’s breath hitched as she kissed him back, her hand rising to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. She had no idea how this had happened, how this strange intimacy had unfolded between them in the quiet of the night. But she knew one thing—whatever they had been before, whatever had brought them here, this moment was theirs.

While it was only the second time they had shared this closeness, Aurelia felt like it was the thousandth.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together. Lucius’s blue eyes were dark with something she couldn’t quite place, but she saw it now: the vulnerability, the softness beneath the warrior’s armor.

"You never answered my question," he murmured, his voice low, his breath still warm on her skin, his lips brushing against hers. 

Aurelia smiled faintly, her hand still resting against his chest. "Which question?"

Lucius laughs, a genuine laugh that filled Aurelia’s heart with actual joy. “I don’t remember. Forgot all about it to be honest.”

For the first time since they’d met, Aurelia felt something she hadn’t expected. Hope.

And, as their lips met once again, she realized that, perhaps, this unexpected marriage—this strange partnership—wasn’t as much a prison as she had once thought.

[markrosewater]

Hi Mark.

Commander seems to be very big but, yet, not universally liked or even accepted by many people. Meaning that while, yes, it may be the most played format officially, it isn't representative of what many players like in Magic. For example: I consider myself a strictly casual player, but don't like the way commander forces me to play, so I play casually, but don't play commander. Usually, the story would end there, but the thing is that more and more cards are obviously designed for commander and are more or less useless in other settings. Therefore, when you open boosters there's inevitably going to be cards specifically designed for commander, taking up slots (sometimes rare or mythic slots). This is very annoying for a non-commander player and I think represents a problem that only seems to be growing at times.

I was thinking whether, as a solution, it would be possible at some point to just separate commander as its own thing entirely. Making it a clearly defined spin-off with its own dedicated product line(s) where cards designed specifically for commander would go. Therefore a whole new area of design space would be open for exploration without negatively impacting non-commander players or commander-specific cards taking up slots in regular boosters.

This version of commander could still use new and reprinted cards from regular sets but the cards designed specifically for commander would be kept just in the clearly labeled and visually distinctive commander products so that people interested in commander would know to purchase them and people not interested in commander would know to avoid them.

I can 100% guarantee you that I would definitely welcome such a direction because even as a casual player I want nothing to do with commander, so I started avoiding buying sealed product altogether, but if I knew that a booster box contained no commander-specific cards I'd gladly experiment and crack some packs.

There are only a handful of cards designed exclusively for Commander. Those are cards that specifically reference elements unique to Commander, such as the commander itself. Those cards are restricted to Commander products.

Yes, we think about how certain cards will play in Commander when thinking about their design, but that doesn’t keep the cards from finding homes in other formats.

One of Magic’s strengths is that it’s one cohesive system. Cards get to serve multiple purposes, and players get to explore how they can use and combine effects to make decks uniquely their own.

I don’t believe segregating cards would lead us to a good place.

[rathayibacter]

been thinking about the parallels between ttrpgs and poetry lately, synthesizing some stuff i've been sitting on with both. i don't remember where i heard this from, but i really like the idea of defining poetry as writing that can't be edited down any more; if you made even one cut, one word replacement, you'd lose something. even the repetitions and redundancies are there to communicate something, because if they weren't they'd be removed. 

its not true, of course, but i don't think it has to be. as a lens to examine poetry i think it's fun, and as a goal when writing poetry it's helped me on more than one occasion. any claim to Fundamental Truth beyond that line doesn't matter much in my opinion. what i like about this isn't that it makes for poetry where you have to read a certain meaning out of every single line to "get it", its actually kinda the opposite! by assuming there's meaning baked into every detail, you can get meaning out of any detail you decide to focus on, and can narrow your focus as much or as little as you like. my favorite poetry is messy, colorful, and dense; you're not gonna get a single clean reading out of it because doing that requires ignoring all the fun little twists and turns, all the intersecting ideas that led it to this point.

and so that brings us to ttrpgs! role-playing games are a fascinating thing because they can really only get us halfway; even the most strict and detailed game has an innate fuzziness that comes from the peculiarities of how we play tabletop games. your mechanics are only airtight if everyone knows, understands, and remembers them, and those are three tall orders for any game, no matter how simple or intuitive it may present as. and that's not even a bad thing! interpretation isn't just "what percentage of the rules are the players getting wrong", its an adaptation of the rules as written to the game as played. even forgotten rules are part of this, cuz anything that's able to be forgotten (and again, that's potentially anything) probably was forgotten cuz it wasn't terribly relevant to the table forgetting it. 

so, as we write games and cast them into the world, fully aware that the thing that'll arrive at people's tables will never match what we had in our heads, what should we do? obviously some of this is just practical; don't bog players down with unnecessary busywork or minute exceptions to memorize, don't build a house of cards that stops working if any one part is missing or changed, you can use stuff like cheat sheets, examples of play, indexes, and asides to make it easier to learn, reference, and remember how to play.

but i promised you poetry, and poetry we shall have! so here's my big guiding principle for writing ttrpgs: only include it if it sings. every part of the game should be special, so that no matter what part or parts of the game a particular table winds up using, the game still shines through. by tangling the spirit of the game up in every line, every rule, every tiny little piece, everyone who engages with it can get tangled up in it too, and can fill in the spaces between in whatever way resonates most with them.

in more practical terms, this is "don't write anything that's less interesting than what the players will make up at the table", ie assume players will fill any missing spaces to the table's preferences, so only close those gaps if you've got something fun to say. don't fill space out of obligation, don't bog yourself down in the stuff that doesn't matter. this doesn't mean never add a polearms list because there's a million polearms lists out there already, but it does mean don't add a polearms list unless you're burning with passion to add it, and excited for people to share in that passion. if you don't, don't worry about it. they can figure it out. the table can always replace your good ideas with ones they like more, and they can always fill in the gaps when they come up, but it's not always easy to recover from a wall of bland filler or an ocean of lifeless cliches.

i wont tell you that if you follow this One Weird Trick then your game will be good. i don't know what a good game is. or rather, i know exactly what i think a good game is, and have no idea what you think it is, and have less than no faith that anyone could ever determine what a Truly Good Game is. but just like the quippy little definition of poetry at the top, universal truth isn't really what i'm after when i employ this. i'm trying to make something that satisfies the little itch in my brain, that sings to me as i make it and keeps singing even after i let it go. moreover, i'm trying to make something that doesn't waste my time as a writer, and doesn't waste yours as a reader or player or fellow designer. 

will this make sure players remember all the rules when they're playing? no, absolutely not. i wouldn't want them to, even if i could force it! but maybe, hopefully, what this does do is lodge one of those little razor-sharp slivers of text in their brains, and it'll sing to them just like it sang to me. not the same song, not the same tune, but just as beautifully.

[all-pacas]

Camchase vs Chameron anon here! Answer makes sense to me. I always read it as "Cameron" just starting with a Ch- sound instead but now that u said that it rlly does look like chameleon lol. little chameleons in love🫶🏼 I do have one more question. I don't mean to argue at all, I am genuinely just curious. You mentioned that most of the tumblr fandom that doesn't really like Cameron and Chase together sort of brushes it off and says "she never loved him or cared because she's a bitch/gay/in love with house". Specifically with Cameron being gay, what do you think about the takes people have about Cameron's feelings for Chase being comphet (compulsory heterosexuality), similar to how people talk about comphet for Wilson? I feel like it doesn't brush off Cameron's relationship with Chase nearly as much as people think, and could still account for their relationship, but I could be wrong! From my understanding as a gay person with lesbian friends, her feelings for Chase are still real feelings; it's just that lesbians who do experience comphet end up feeling way way way stronger feelings for women/nb people than they ever felt for a man. Like, someone whose mom I know was married to a guy for years before she realized she was a lesbian? And now that she's with a woman, she says that she did love her ex husband, it just was a different kind of love than the love she feels now for her wife.

Again, not trying to argue, just genuinely curious about your take because I keep seeing people talk about Comphet Wilson (and some talking about Comphet Cameron, but always less than Wilson because. that's how it goes :/)

My general feeling is, I really don't care what people ship! If you want to pair Cameron with women, men, no one, whatever, that's perfectly fine. I completely agree with you that just because someone later realizes they're gay, it doesn't mean they don't still care about former partners; I actually tend to go a step further and believe sexuality is weird and complicated and Cameron (or whoever) can both have sincerely and truly lusted for/fell in love with men/certain men and later realized she is a lesbian. I've known people in similar situations to your friend's mom; a coworker who was Very Gay but still fairly in lust with his ex-wife. I'm not a huge fan of labels! People are complicated!

But in my experience, that is not what people mean when they say "comphet" in fandom spaces (and there's a whole other discussion about what comphet is vs what fandom takes it to mean). I've never seen a "gay Cameron" story that has her having had real feelings for Chase or House (or her husband/Joe/TB Guy); this is actually a problem fandom has with Cameron in general. Her feelings are always being erased and dismissed: people explain away her feelings for House ("she was delusional" "she only thought she liked him" "she had a crush because she knew it was hopeless/unrequited"). They explain away her feelings for Chase ("she never was interested" "he wore her down and she never cared" "she was using him/manipulating him"). Her first husband? Clearly she didn't love him. Joe? Her crush on TB guy? Don't exist. All her romantic feelings for men are mistakes, are "not real" (because she's gay, because she's incapable of love, because she's aromantic, because.) It's telling to me that there's a lot of comphet headcanons but no bisexual ones, right? That it isn't "Cameron likes girls" but "Cameron never liked boys."

Again, this is a problem I see with the House fandom and Cameron specifically. While Wilson is often dismissed as "obviously gay" too, it is canon that, at the very least, he wasn't that interested in any of his ex-wives; there's something to start from. Cameron was interested in the men in her life -- and quite a lot of them. While I certainly have issues with how she's often reduced to "a love interest" even in canon, there's no denying that she is defined by her romantic feelings for others (men), and fandom really doesn't like to engage with her in this way -- either out of distaste for ships, dislike of her (Cameron is haaaaaaated), a weird desire to "defend" Chase from her perceived cruelties or shippers of one thing trying to invalidate the other. A lot of the comphet Cameron takes, to me, seem to be born out of that same feeling -- there's one image post I saw a while ago lumping her and Wilson in as "compet doctors" for their perceived shared lack of interest in their romantic partners. While that might be true for Wilson, it was never true for Cameron.

[sweetmotherofearl]

Self-fulfilling Prophecy

A personal essay | 1463 words | autism, aroace, romantic love commentary

They say if you repeat something often enough, you’ll start to believe it. That we’re all born starving for the same thing: romance, a partner, someone to come home to. This idea follows me everywhere, like everyone was given a rulebook that I somehow missed because I didn’t feel that way. When the world speaks of love, they mean a specific expectation for a connection we’re all bound to have — a deep, romantic, all-encompassing relationship that defines our lives. But I didn’t need that. I never did.

So I tried convincing myself that I just hadn’t felt it yet — maybe I was a late bloomer, or maybe love had just missed me so far. I even faked a crush in high school, just to cease the speculation. But then my whole existence got reduced to that one pretend feeling, like who I was only mattered in relation to someone I didn’t even care about. Still, after years of desperately seeking that emotion, the idea that romance is the pinnacle of life’s meaning remained foreign.

As I grew older, I started to realize that the love I was capable of giving and receiving didn’t always fit in the boxes the world created. I held my friends’ hands when they trembled, ran my fingers through their hair during quiet conversations, and whispered “I love you” like it was the most natural thing in the world. These weren’t gestures meant to reach a social milestone, they were simply ways of expressing something that felt real.

My world has always been built on different textures of connection. I’m wired by what I like to call my triple AAA batteries: autism, asexuality, and aromanticism. It’s a joke, kind of, but it’s also the truth. These aren’t just labels — they’re the core of how I feel, think, and connect. They power the way I move through the world. Each part influences the softness I offer, the way I understand love, and why the bonds I form might look different from what people expect. But they’re not any less charged. If anything, they’re the reason I’m able to love deliberately, wholly, and deeply.

I just loved differently. And that difference never made it any less real, but it did make me realize that my needs are still at that foundational level of wanting to feel safe. It’s a constant aching for connection that feels genuine, and it’s hard to imagine anything beyond that. Romantic relationships, the way they’re commonly presented, feel like they’re held upon layers I haven’t been given the chance to build yet.

Funnily enough, the love I crave is always from women. Maybe it’s because men have never been able to offer the kind of softness I need. It’s always women who have mothered me, who have seen me at my most vulnerable and still chose to be gentle. They’ve held space for my pain, my confusion, and they’ve done it without making me feel like I’m too much. This nurturing love is the kind that fills the empty spaces where I’ve felt misunderstood, and it’s the love I hold closest to my heart.

But here’s the thing: This love isn’t something that ignores the parts of me I might consider flawed. It’s not about loving me despite my flaws, but because of them. The love I receive isn’t conditional, but an acceptance of my whole self. The good, the bad, and the ugly. People love me not by erasing my struggles or pretending I’m perfect. They love me for who I am — flaws and all — and that’s the kind of love I’ve come to believe is real.

It’s the comfort in a shared silence. The soft hands who hold me when I’m falling apart. The voice that shushes me when I say I’m too much, but still reminds me that the way I feel is not my fault.

But here’s where the struggle starts: the world tells us that love must look a certain way. We’re taught to compartmentalize our emotions, to present ourselves as “professional” and hide our needs like they’re shameful. It’s as if emotions are meant to be controlled. But they’re not. Emotions shape everything, and when we pretend they don’t matter, we lose touch with who we are. The love I know doesn’t fit into neat boxes. It’s messy and complicated, but it’s real — and it’s through that mess that I’ve learned what connection truly means.

Maybe it’s because I’m autistic, or because I’m just a dumb kid — or maybe I’m onto something. I think the way we villainize human emotions is deeply damaging, and honestly, it’s bound to rot the world more than it already has. Sure, maybe I’m just trying to avoid a 9-to-5 in a white cubicle under fluorescent lights, but maybe I’m also just searching for humanity in a world full of people who keep denying theirs.

When people tell me, “You don’t understand love (or any emotion for that matter), you’re just a child,” they miss the point. Emotions are raw and unfiltered in children, yes, but that doesn’t make them any less valid. In fact, children often feel things more deeply because they haven’t yet learned to mask their emotions. So when I say that my love is pure, it’s not because I’m blind to my flaws, but because I’ve learned to embrace them, and the people who love me do the same.

In one way or another, we’re all just kids getting older, still carrying the same emotional needs — just expressed through more complex layers. The need for nurturing love and deep connection doesn’t fade with age, and it’s not wrong to crave that kind of care beyond a certain point. It’s still deeply woven into the fabric of my life now, more grown-up, but still rooted in the same need for security.

Anyway, maybe the prophecy isn’t that I’ll end up alone. Maybe I already know the love I feel exists, because I am full of it. I no longer see the lack of romance as a void in my life. I’ve learned to embrace the fullness of love I already have.

Platonic love is everything to me. It’s how I survive. It’s how I measure closeness, comfort, and my place in the world. And when that kind of love feels like it’s slipping through my fingers, it doesn’t just hurt — it grieves me.

Grief, as I’ve learned from the beautiful words of Leith Ross, is love run backwards. There’s the unspoken forgiveness and the love we realize we could’ve given, but didn’t know how to, at the time. Although it’s too late, the weight in mourning that loss still carries meaning in a new, terribly aching form. There’s a strange clarity in hindsight, and that’s what makes the grief feel even heavier — we finally see the softness we needed to offer, the words we should’ve said. But in some twisted way, the grief itself becomes proof that the love was real. That it mattered. That it still does.

But grief, like love, doesn’t fit into a single, neat box. Losing someone I never imagined my life without — whether it’s a friend, a teacher, or even the loving expectations I had for my parents — shakes everything. It shatters the foundation of how I understand love and connection. I start to question what I did wrong, what I could’ve held onto tighter. And if I live through love, then what does it mean when that love is gone? The grief doesn’t just stay with me in passing moments. It lingers, and it burns.

And maybe that’s why I don’t just grieve the people I’ve lost, but also the ones I’m still terrified of losing. Anticipatory grief and love go hand-in-hand — bracing for closeness slipping away before I’m ready to let it go.

It really hurts, most of the time it’s more than I know how to explain. To lose a bond that felt like home. To feel like I’ve failed at the one thing I value most. But still, I wouldn’t change the way I love. I wouldn’t trade the softness, the sincerity, the way I pour my heart into people. Because even in the grief, there’s comfort in knowing I’ve loved — deeply, and without condition.

I live through joy and heartbreak just like anyone else. I feel safe when someone sees me, thinks of me, and holds space for me in their life. I don’t need romance to make that real. I don’t need a partner to make my story meaningful. The love I have is enough to build a life on.

Maybe the prophecy was never about what I would find, but what I dared to believe was enough.

i got a 99% on this essay :blush:

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

to start off this is long and rambly but please bear with me

you occasionally reblog pro/antiship discourse on the side of "real people are not haunted by fiction or people's opinions" and you generally seem to be very much against the idea of trying to hold people's thoughts against them etc in not phrasing this well but I hope you get my meaning. How does that affect the way you write about Renn?

Aspen and most of the other crew mates are deeply disturbed by him saying that he thinks genetic engineering of brains could sometimes be useful, to the point where his single defining quality is "the guy who supports Lyson projects" and somebody was willing to murder him over it. From a modern perspective what he said doesn't seem incredibly radical (I definitely disagree with the concept, but it's not even close to my least favorite conservative opinion). Maybe I'd be angrier if it was someone minimizing a real tragedy like he was in-universe? That probably played into it.

I'm not trying to imply Aspen's thoughts are your thoughts, or that you should've written them more similar to you, but it is a really interesting dynamic and wondering how/why you came up with it.

Lyson projects have nothing to do with genetic engineering. They're about emotional/behavioural control via brain damage.

I'm not really sure what you mean about people's opinions haunting people. People's opinions influence their behaviour, which absolutely can cause problems for other people. Somebody who thinks gay people are mentally ill predators out to corrupt children is dangerous in groups, in the voting booth, and in general life because they hold that opinion.

I don't agree with Aspen on most things, and this Lyson disagreement got into the story the same way all the other ones do -- I come up with a topical conundrum about care, community, liberty or justice, and throw as many different viewpoints at it as possible from different crew members. Which crew member I personally agree with is more or less random; their positions are chosen by their personalities, not mine. I'm interested in giving the reader a space to consider a messy issue, not forcing them to listen to my opinion specifically. (If I wanted to do that, I'd just get into online discourse about it instead).

In the case of Lyson projects, the issue is pretty obviously the question of risk and autonomy in the care of vulnerable patients, and the question of benefits of certain treatments vs. their potential for abuse. I was specifically thinking about euthanasia and MAID when I wrote it but there are literally uncountable other examples of the same conundrum, including the more literal (long discontinued) parallel of performing medical lobotomies.

If you're interested in discussing the ethical stuff that shows up in TTOU specifically, the Discord is constantly having those conversations.

[osc-plurals-confessions]

as the topic of banned object shows have come up quite a bit in this blog recently, i'd like to share my two cents on what i think is a key distinction between what show is considered "problematic" or not.

(thus, it is time for taco who ate a microwave to use his college education)

to address the root of the confusion, i have come up with a hypothesis on why some people in a community like the OSC may have difficulties differentiating between a "problematic" object show and a "non-problematic" one that simply just contained more mature or adult themes. i believe it has something to do with the inheritly childish nature of most object shows; because of this, the OSC is primarily made up of tweens and adolescents, even children on the brink of becoming tweens.

we as a community tend to use the term "problematic" very generously. however, it is because of this that there may be a bit of confusion on which shows are prohobited from discussion in certain spaces such as this blog. but here is where i will define what "problematic" will mean in this context;

the increased usage of the term "problematic" to describe a media that features characters, plot or storylines an individual—likely an adolescent—disagrees with, or conveys a message perceived as harmful to a particular group of people, particularly people of colour, members of the LGBTQ+ community, people with health disorders and conditions, etc.

as more members within and across online communities repeatedly encounter and use the term, what makes a media "problematic" will start shifting as some people will inevitably interpret it differently. in this specific case, i noticed it has become a bit more broad to include shows with more adult or mature themes, and as a literature major i feel the need to say this;

by the definition of "problematic" i described, what makes a media problematic is not what it contains; it's how it handles whatever it contains. and in the OSC's case, how sensitive it is when considering the age range of a show's target audience. this is why it is more necessary than ever for creators who plan on adding mature themes to their object shows to make sure they are not targetting their shows to the inappropriate age group.

content warning—a show like "object terror" that includes excessive violence or swearing that lacks a clear target audience and fails to write these elements in a mature way can be considered problematic. as opposed to that, a similar show that is explicitly established to be for an older audience is less likely to be viewed that way. but at the end of the day it is up to whoever runs a server, blog, group chat, or whatever it is to decide what kinds of shows are prohibited or not.

sorry for the long rant, taco who ate a microwave

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I completely agree with this ^^

[dis-agreeable]

seeing more and more aphobia (especially arophobia) just once again leads me to have less trust in anyone who isn't anywhere on the asexual and/or aromantic spectrum, BECAUSE:

allo people so clearly highlight a deep misunderstanding of these identities by viewing them as a void. using the definition of 'a lack of [romantic and/or sexual] attraction' gets skewed into something that is simply not there; therefore, why does it matter? how does it make any theoretical aspec identity different from cisgender heteronormativity, which is already seen as the 'default' by society? why celebrate or even pay any attention at all to an empty room?

this mindset was one i had to work so hard to overcome as a baby ace, especially when both my online and irl social spaces grew steadily less accepting of any a-spectrum representation. it was toxifying my relationship to my own identity by turning my 'lack' into a blank space, defined only by the absence of something. and truly, i do not think it is possible to realize how genuinely hard it is to grapple with basing yourself on AND having other people measure you by 'nothing' unless you have been through it personally.

so without the 'lacking' definition, what's left?

what i often point people towards is the 1972 asexual manifesto (especially those that refuse to believe that asexuality has roots in queer history). there is one quote especially that changed how i view myself and, in turn, aro and ace identities completely (emphasis my own):

“Asexual”, as we use it, does not mean “without sex” but “relating sexually to no one”. This does not, of course, exclude masturbation but implies that if one has sexual feelings they do not require another person for their expression. Asexuality is, simply, self-contained sexuality.”

the idea that what defined me wasn't an absence but rather a closed, self-sustaining circuit quite literally felt like a kick to the head. all the deep, dark fears i had about attaining other people's validity were gone. by imbuing my asexual identity with a foundation of acceptance, self-respect, and a commitment to myself and my happiness, it was easier to deal with the bullshit slung my way. it didn't erase the hardships i was experiencing, but it kept me from the feeling of broken, alien other-ness that was still clinging, despite my attempts at reassuring myself that my 'lack' was perfectly fine.

the ideas of asexuality and aromanticism are so inherently antithetical to cishet culture that you constantly see attempts to equate them with being Straight Lite™: "aces can still have sex!", "aromantic people can still be in relationships!", QPRs being seen as a necessity; people using the nuances of real people's lived experiences to create another execution of heterosexuality. as a result, people inside and outside the queer community reduce aspec expression as a cringy attempt to be different: emma watson being ridiculed for calling herself 'self-partnered,' questioning why aspec representation is necessary at pride events, harassment of those using microlabels (lithosexual, cupioromantic, etc) and loveless aros, the vilification of aroallos (saying "the idea that sex is sacred and can only be performed under specific conditions is puritanical and homophobic" until an aromantic person enters the equation). it's exhausting to see people who claim to be radically accepting of the extremes of sexuality turn around and insist aces and aros have to fulfill certain requirements to be considered a respectable identity, if that's even an option. it's exhausting to see people cite asexuality as tumblr tweens that didn't know better and grew out of it to the Right shade of queer. it's exhausting to see posts citing the asexual and aromantic community as a spiteful group bullying others to change the 'A', because obviously they hate allies. it's exhausting to have to steel myself around anyone, regardless of identity, and be prepared to justify my existence as a queer person.

this got to be a bit bloated so apologies for your dash. my posts don't get traction but i may turn off reblogs because i have better things than argue with people who already disrespect me. aces and aros of every shade i adore you <3