#and where they're coming from with the tools and knowledge that they have

[chalkysgarbagefire]

He Ain’t Heavy - 1981//15

They settled into a new normal.

Eddie went to school (with much protesting), and Wayne worked the third shift at the plant. It was a hard adjustment at first, but the pay bump certainly made things easier. Besides, he was never one for sleeping anyways. The change made it so he could be there to wake his nephew up, drag his ass to school, attend different CPS appointments, and if he was lucky, catch a few winks before picking Eddie up.

All in all, it made one thing certain: he’d be able to be there when Eddie needed him and keep food on the table.

At least he could say Eddie was coming into his own, like a stubborn root poking through a crack in the concrete. Not blossoming, but fighting tooth and nail to be there all the same. The kid seemed to split his time either holed up in his room, or holed up at the houses of some other misfits from school. It was good to see him around kids his own age, and they didn’t seem like bad apples either. Different, maybe, but not bad (Wayne remembered how he was at that age).

Despite their misaligned schedules, Eddie never seemed to stray far from the trailer on Wayne’s nights off. They found themselves on the porch on one of those rare evenings, soaking in the sounds of the trailer park in the chilly spring air. It was hardly ever quiet with life happening all around them. There was a soft melody drifting in from someone’s radio, dogs barking from somewhere off in the distance, a mother’s harried call for dinner, a child’s laugh.

Eddie hummed idly to himself, feet propped up on a spare lawn chair as he plucked the strings of his old guitar. It was an aimless sort of play, simply giving his restless fingers something to do versus plucking out a particular tune. They’d finally put in enough elbow grease to fix the black acoustic. She would never be without her bumps and bruises, but she was cherished all the same.

Wayne didn’t pay him much mind--his thoughts were elsewhere. It wasn’t often, but there were times when the past would reach up, sink its claws in, and unearth old memories. When those black moods would roll in, he felt every bit the sentimental old man he’d become.

Sometimes it was as simple as finding his old dog tags, plastic casings yellowed with age, that was enough to darken his thoughts. They reminded him of his father, how he died for his country not in a day, but little by little over the years. Other memories haunted him, too. Flashes of forgotten young men in the jungle, fighting a war that wasn’t theirs, uniforms forgotten in the dark as they cried for their mothers. Most days they were just a memento of years gone by, forgotten until the next spring cleaning.

Anniversaries and milestones didn’t bother him so much--he expected the despair to creep in on those sanctioned days. It was those little niggling thoughts that kept him up that were harder to contend with. Usually he’d shake it off best he could, but nights like tonight?

A glass of whiskey, a smoke, and time with his thoughts were the only reprieve.

“I won’t be much company tonight, I’m afraid.” Wayne puffed on his cigarette, eyes trained on the horizon. Dusk was falling, as were the temperatures.

“Not sure what you’re on about, I’m just here to play guitar, man.” Eddie wiggled his fingers as if to emphasize his point. The grin on his face though, gave away the fact he knew exactly what he was doing.

Wayne snorted, shaking his head. “If you want to keep an old man company, that’s your business.”

“Pshh. You’re not old, Wayne. You’re just entering your silver fox era. I’ve seen Ms. McCluskey eyeballing you--better be careful, old girl might hunt you down with her walker.”

He let out a startled laugh, which of course, earned him a toothy smile in response. Kid always had some smart-assed comment ready to go. Eddie was definitely a teenager, and his brain-to-mouth filter hadn’t developed yet. In truth, he wasn’t sure it was ever going to develop, and he would be stuck with a mouthy teenager who was too smart for his own good.

There were worse things in life.

Only problem about being clever is that it also attracted trouble, and Wayne knew a thing or two about trouble. Didn’t help that Eddie shared a name with it, either.

He managed to split his memories of his brother into two neat categories: before Eddie and after Eddie. Unfortunately, what he felt about said memories weren’t as cut and dry. There was just as much love wrapped up in his pain and the two were indistinguishable at this point.

That was just how things were for Munsons, though. Shit was never easy.

His thoughts drifted back to a one bedroom house in Kentucky that was often frigid in the winters, boiling in the summers, and claustrophobic year round: his childhood home. The bedroom was reserved for his parents, but also doubled as a nursery (and on one occasion a mausoleum for a baby girl. He’d never know who Wanita could have been). The pull out couch was reserved for him and Edward--his brother swore up and down that the springs in the mattress had caused his chronic back-problems. Somehow Wayne turned out fine.

“Whatcha readin’ there?” Wayne asked around a mouthful of pins. He knew keeping the sewing needles in his mouth was a bad habit, but swallowing them seemed a kinder alternative than accidentally dropping one. Edward slept on the pullout too; he’d rather not chance the boy getting stuck with one.

 The little boy across from him gave a dramatic sigh. “See Spot Run. At least, I’m trying. It’s boring as fuck.”

The pins were removed from his mouth solely so he could scold his brother. “Edward Munson, do not say ‘fuck’.” He stuck them in the pants he was mending--he could tell the kid was in the mood to talk.   

“You and dad say it all the time!” He hissed back, narrowing his eyes.

“That’s different--and keep it down, mom is trying to sleep.” The needle punched through the denim with familiar ease. He’d worn these pants when he was Edward’s age, and they were beginning to show their years. Hopefully the patch would help keep them long enough until he could grow into Wayne’s clothes. The patch he was sewing would at least add a little extra material--the denim was practically soft with how thin it had become.

“How?!” He sat up quickly, full on pouting with his arms crossed.

 “I’m older than you, that’s why.” Wayne tried to bite back a smile--it was hard to take the little boy seriously sometimes. Still, he shushed him again, “Seriously though, keep it down. Mom needs her rest--she had a bad spell.”

 The answer, as Wayne predicted, was unsatisfactory. “Not by that much…You’re…” He trailed up, bringing his fingers up to count. “You’re…thirteen, I’m six so that means…”

 This time, he didn’t try to hold his grin. Didn’t help him either though--kid had to learn.

 “Seven! Seven years older.” He returned Wayne’s toothy grin with his own gap toothed smile. His cheer didn’t last though. It never did. “Why is mom always sleeping?”  

“She’s really sick.” He tried to smile, but he knew it was hollow. Mom was sick--that’s the only explanation he ever got. Never why, or with what, just ‘mommy needs her rest’. Whatever it was, it made her sad--so sad she cried at night, and hardly left her room.

 “Is she gonna die?” Edward’s voice was small.

Wayne reached across, and pulled his brother into a tight hug. “Mom isn’t going to die. Don’t say shit like that.” He maneuvered the six year old into his lap, “Besides, who’d make you breakfast in the morning?”

 Edward pulled back, brow pinched in confusion. “But you do that.”

 He swallowed nervously. Their mom was never awake by the time they needed to walk to school, but he wanted to…wanted to do something to make it seem like she was more involved in their lives. He’d gotten her tired smiles growing up, and her bell-like laugh. His brother had gotten none of that, and he knew how important family was, and…

 “No. Mom does that. I just help her out sometimes.” It was a weak response, and they both knew it.

 That only seemed to confuse the younger boy more, and he opened his mouth to argue.

  “Hey, why don’t you read me your stupid book, huh? Mending your pants is a snooze-fest. At least this way we can be bored together.”

 A distraction always worked. Soon, Edward was all smiles again, and tucked his head into his brother's shoulder with the dog-eared book propped up on his knees. He cleared his throat, whispering the title with awe, like he was about to start an epic story. “See Spot Run.”

They ended up waking their mother up with their laughter, but it was worth it.

Those memories were bittersweet now, tinged with regret and the thoughts of what could have been. He didn’t know when it started, the rift between him and Edward. Perhaps it was always there, just two boys destined to mirror one another in a pantomime of polarity. Hindsight always bore the gift of clarity.

The years went by and Wayne slipped away, little by little. It started with the odd jobs that became real jobs that kept him out too late, but the family wallet a little thicker. Then as he grew older, his seat in the classroom remained vacant, and somewhere in the shuffle his brother had gotten lost.

By the time Wayne was seventeen, the hubris of youth had taken root. The money he was making was good enough to buy his own set of wheels, and if he played his cards right, his ticket to freedom. He thought he was grown, and determined to put that little one bedroom house in his rearview mirror. No more playing parent, no more responsibility--just his own money and his own life.

Looking back, he understood that impulse to run, but he’d never regretted anything more in his life. Had he just been present and maybe a little less focused on girls and partying, he would have been a better role model.

A better brother.

They pulled up to the house, windows dark and shuttered. 

“You know, nobody’s home.” The words were pressed into his date’s cheek, the smell of her flowery perfume clouding his thoughts. Couldn’t remember her name for the life of him, but he didn’t need to. She wanted him, and he wanted her--what more did he need to know?

She giggled, pushing him away. “I can’t imagine what we’d get up to.” There was a smile hidden behind her hand, batting her long eyelashes at him.

“I’m sure we can figure something out.” He grinned back at her--he’d been told his smile was charming. He was already turning off the ignition, and reaching across the console for another kiss.

The lights in the house flipped on.  

“I thought you said nobody would be home.” The honeyed tone was gone, replaced with wide eyes and trepidation.

  “There shouldn’t be.” His dad worked the night shift, and fuck knows where his mom was these days. Which only could only mean…

 He dropped his head against the steering wheel. “Shit. My kid brother.”

 Mirabelle--that was her name--had started to button up her blouse self-consciously. “O-Oh. Well. Maybe…Maybe we should call it a night then?”

 Wayne Munson was not about to be cock-blocked by a shitty ten year old. He covered her hand with his own, before reaching up and pushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “We can do that, if you want.” He wet his lips, eyes flicking down to meet hers. Do you want that?”

 She swallowed, and locked eyes with him, and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “No.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek, pulling back with a smile. She returned it, and he ran a thumb along her lower lip. “Then keep that smile for me, sweetheart. I’ll be just a minute.”

He was a man on a mission now, leaving the car behind.

 Edward was opening the screen door, rubbing his eyes and squinting at the headlights. “Wayne? You were supposed to be home to cook me dinner…”

 Wayne knelt down in front of him, “I know--Listen, I have a pretty lady who wants to take a tour of the house. Think you can make yourself scarce for a bit?”

 Edward’s eyes darkened, “No! You’re never here anymore, and I’m not going to sit outside while you like, kiss or whatever!” His voice carried in the night air, and Wayne quickly threw a hand over his mouth to shush him.

 “This is so uncool, what the fuck, Edward?” He hissed back, narrowing his eyes.

 The kid threw his glare right back at him, and licked his palm.

Wayne’s hand flew back like he’d been burned. “Fine, I’ll make you some fucking dinner, Jesus Christ.” He stomped away from him, shoving his fists into the pockets of his leather jacket.

 He threw the car door open, and slammed it shut just as hard. “Change of plans. Brat still needs to be babysat, apparently.” He tried popping his neck from side to side, avoiding the small shadow sitting expectantly on the front porch steps.  

“Oh.” She gave a small frown, “Well that’s…sweet of you.” A new smile took residence on her face, but it wasn’t a flirtatious one: it was pitying. Yep, he was definitely not getting laid tonight, or ever, not by Mirabelle at least.  

“Yeah, that’s me, big ol’ sweetheart.” It came out flat, and he turned the key in the ignition, engine roaring to life. “Let’s get you home.”

Turns out his brother had learned a lot more from Wayne than he thought. Kids were spongey--they soaked up everything whether you wanted them to or not. It became less about the lessons on how to tie his shoes and make his own meals, and more about the unspoken rules of how to be a man and an adult. Between their father and Wayne’s absenteeism, Edward cobbled together how to sneak into bars, pick up chicks, and how to finish his own fights. By the time Edward’s own teenage years rolled around, he was on a first name basis with every authority figure in a five mile radius.

It’s funny how the more things changed, the more they remained the same: Wayne was still taking care of a kid that wasn’t his with one bedroom between the two (no little house in Kentucky this time, though).

Somehow he’d even managed to sleep on a pull out couch again.

This time though, things would be different. He wouldn’t let Eddie become another Munson fuckup.

Wayne cleared his throat, trying to grab his nephew’s attention. “Since you’ve got so much time on your hands, why don’t you play us some Johnny Cash, hm?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Always the Man in Black.” Despite his grousing, it came with a playful smile. Before long the discordantly cheerful twang of ‘Folsom Prison Blues’ became the backdrop of Wayne’s musings.

He couldn’t help but shake his head and smile into his whiskey, though it was a sad and bitter one. Eddie had no idea how appropriate his song choice had been.

This time, he knew exactly what was to blame for his maudlin thoughts: a phone call.

 ‘Would you like to collect this call?’ The tinny voice crackled in his ears--he didn’t need to be told who was on the line; he already knew.

  Against his better judgment, he accepted the call.

 “Hey.”

 “How’d you get this number?”

 There was a resigned laugh on the other end. “Haven’t changed a bit…Kinda hopin’ you had.” A pause, “Social worker. You’re a hard man to find, Wayne.”

 Wayne hummed in understanding--it hard to get a guardianship without the parents involved somehow. “I like my solitude.” It was also intentional, but he didn’t feel the need to point that out.

 It had been years since he’d heard his brother’s voice, but he recognized it all the same. There were cracks in it, like asphalt on a hot summer day, tinged with the boyishness of a forgotten childhood. Bikes and skinned knees. It was like coming home to a vacant house.

 It hurt.  

“What do you want, Edward?” It came out softer than he’d wanted, but Wayne always had a soft spot for his little brother.  

“A lot of things.” A swallow, “Drugs. Money. Freedom. Forgiveness.” There was a longer pause, “My brother.”

 He noted the order of things and the glaring hole in the list. “But not your kid, huh?”  

“Junior’s better off without me.”

 He wasn’t about to fight him on that, not when it was true.  

“I was hopin’ he’d go to you, even if you did do a shit job with me. But you ain’t gotta raise him, just keep him clothed and fed.”

Wayne bit his tongue--he didn’t have to raise his kid-brother either, but he did. He still fucking did, because that’s just what you do.

But he didn’t have to rise to the bait, no matter how true it may have been.

“Eddie.” He cleared his throat, “He goes by Eddie. Not Edward. Not junior.”

“That so? Guess he didn’t want to be like his old man.”

 God, he hoped not. He was doing everything in his power to keep Eddie from that.

“Doesn’t matter, not why I called. Just…wanted to say thanks. For keepin’ my boy. You keep him in line, and don’t let him give you no lip.”

He thought back to their first days together--him and Eddie. Carefully orbiting one another, watching one another like fighters in the ring. Who’d take the first punch?

 In the end, neither of them had: it was a stupid coffee cup. Eddie had it in his hands, touches always feather light, like he was afraid he’d break it. Ironically, it was that carefulness that led to a broken mug on their floor. It was an accident--had slipped out of Eddie’s soapy grip. Just a shitty gas station mug. Nothing memorable.

 Nothing like the horror on his nephew’s face.

 “Wayne, it was an accident, you gotta believe me--you gotta---” His hands were fisted in his shirt, frozen, right before they flew to retrieve the broken ceramic pieces. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry--” Red dotted the shards as he tried to pick them up.

 Instincts and adrenaline took over, and he was across the room in seconds, grasping Eddie’s hands within his own. “You’re okay, Eddie.”

 The touch seemed to ground him, but his hands still shook. “I’m sorry, Uncle Wayne.”  

“I care a lot more about you gettin’ hurt than a mug I didn’t even like.” He lifted the boy to his feet, gesturing to the bathroom. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

 It was for that reason alone, Wayne felt himself grit out, “Don’t call back” before slamming the phone down on the receiver.

  He never did tell Eddie about the call. He wanted his nephew to feel safe where he was without the specter of his father lingering over them both.

A familiar tune tugged him back into consciousness and out of the recesses of his memory. He lifted his head up, “Since when did you learn to play the Hollies?”

Eddie’s playing halted as he shrugged his shoulders. “Just kinda picked it up. No biggie.” He flexed his fingers a moment--they were red from the cold. He insisted on wearing a pair of old gloves that he’d clipped the tips off of--said it was the closest thing to a compromise on keeping his hands warm, but still being able to pluck at the strings.

Wayne shook his head with a smile, running his thumbs along the mug in his hands. It was a replacement for the one he’d broken though much improved: the glaringly cheerful text of ‘WELCOME TO HAWKINS’ had been crossed out with a sloppy scrawl ‘WELCOME TO BUMFUCK NOWHERE’. He’d never felt particularly welcome in Hawkins to begin with.

“What about Dolly Parton? You pick any of her stuff up?”

Eddie huffed out a laugh, “I know not to take her man, if that’s what you mean.” Sure enough, ‘He Ain't Heavy’ melted into the heartbroken classic of ‘Jolene’.

Wayne couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at that--kid was clever.

Eddie’s finger slipped, causing a screech of discordant strings.

Wayne whipped his head over at him, raising his eyebrows in an unspoken ‘you good?’. His nephew was talented,  well on his way to being skilled, but it wasn’t normal for him to flub like that.

Eddie shrugged, ‘what can you do?’. He was back to playing, but his hands trembled and his smile was plastic. Then the music abruptly stopped. “Not that I’d…y’know, steal her man. I’m not...‘that way’. Obviously.”

That gave Wayne pause. “Didn’t think you were.” He cocked an eyebrow, watching his nephew fidget in his seat. Odd that he felt the need to clarify in the first place--was this another thing his brother hammered into him?

“Do…you remember when I first came here?” The music had stopped completely, Eddie resting his hands over the acoustic. Nervous fingers tapped a quiet rhythm along her black frame. “How I had that buzzcut?” As if on cue, he moved a hand to his hair. A year had prompted a lot of growth--the dark curls hovered just above his shoulders.

“Made your ears look like Dumbo, yep.” Wayne nodded along, setting the empty mug down on the porch (and a safe distance away from the two of them--he didn’t want a third replacement).

Eddie gave a bark of startled laughter, “I know, right? It was so bad.” The easy smile faded as quickly as it came. “It wasn’t my choice. My old man…”

Just the mere mention of him caused his shoulders to slump and his to dim. Eddie never called him ‘dad’--he hadn’t earned that title, in Wayne’s eyes.

“He cut it saying it would make me look less like a fag.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair again self-consciously.

An uncharacteristic lull fell between the two of them. There’s something big here, and he has a creeping suspicion he’s missed something important. The longer he takes to reply though, the more heavily Eddie’s gaze weighs on him.

He’d figure out where this piece of the puzzle went later. “My brother is a goddamn idiot. Keep the hair, kid.” To emphasize his point, he reached over and ruffled the boy’s hair.

Eddie squawked at that, playfully shoving him away, but there was still a small unhappy twist to his expression.

It was quiet, a reflexive comment and less like actual conversation, but Wayne heard it all the same: “A goddamn perceptive idiot.” Did he hear that right? He knitted his brows together, “Come again, kid?”

“Just saying he didn’t like me looking like David Bowie or some shit. Don’t worry about it.” He gave a shrug, but his eyes were too sharp, too wary to sell the air of nonchalance he was going for.

“That a rock star you like or somethin’?”

A quiet laugh. “Something like that.” Another pause, “That’s…not going to be a problem, is it? Liking David Bowie or Robert Halford?”

“Considering I have no idea who those folks are? Not one bit. Just don’t hog the bathroom and we’re good.”

“I’ll leave you enough time to do your hair in the morning, scouts honor.” He batted his eyes for effect, which caused Eddie to laugh at his own antics. “Can’t have you looking all scruffy for McCluskey, after all.”

Whatever door of opportunity had opened had promptly hit his ass on his way out, because Eddie had already moved on. “I don’t know how you two can be related. You’re nothing like him.”

Now if that wasn’t the biggest kick in the teeth? “I wouldn’t say that. We both got our daddy’s temper. Mine just got tempered, and his didn’t.”

Silence fell between them, but it wasn’t comfortable. It was contemplative and heavy with bad memories.

“Sometimes I think I hate him.” Eddie took a shuddering breath, mouth set in firm line.

Wayne said nothing--couldn’t bring himself to. In his heart of hearts, he knew he did too.

“Is it weird if I love him too?” He had Eddie’s full attention now, dark eyes weighing heavily on him.

In truth, Wayne didn’t have the answers. He was doing good to put one foot in front of the other, every day. He didn’t know how to even begin untangling the massive ball of hurt knotted in his chest, much less help someone else with theirs.

Yet here they were. Two people haunted by the same person, this shared trauma that bonded them together. He wanted more for Eddie than whatever this was.

It was as good a time as any to start the healing process. So Wayne took a deep breath, buying himself a few crucial seconds before he spoke, “Sometimes love is so wrapped up with the hurt we can’t tell the difference.”

He pointed the stub of his cigarette at Eddie, “Let me be clear about this though: my brother is an asshole.”

The declaration made Eddie’s eyes as round as saucers, but Wayne kept going. He had more to say, and he was going to make it count.

They hadn’t talked about it, what Eddie’s life was like before. Hadn’t been a real reason to, in Wayne’s mind. He was able to pick up enough--something would happen, and he would adjust accordingly. The social workers had told him not to pry and not to push, but maybe it would do the boy some good to talk. If not to him, at least to someone.

Maybe they could start here.

Eddie had a white knuckle grip on the neck of his guitar, stone still for the first time in his life.

“You got the Munson gene, but you ain’t your daddy. You ain't me either, thank God. You go be yourself, Eddie.”

“...I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me in one sitting, Wayne.” His lips were bitten into the ghost of a smile, his voice tinged with humor and emotion.

Of course that’s what he’d take away from it. Wayne snorted, shaking his head with terrible fondness. “It’s the first time I’ve been able to get a word in.”

“Hey, someone has to carry the conversation.”

He chuckled to himself, “More like a monologue.”

Eddie almost threw himself out of the chair, clutching at his heart dramatically. “You wound me, good sir!” He hopped up to his feet with a newfound energy. “Want me to take your cup to the kitchen?”

He didn’t wait for Wayne’s response before dipping down and snatching it. He quickly wrinkled his face, “...Were you drinking whiskey out of a coffee cup?”

Wayne shrugged. “A cup’s a cup.”

“And I’m the freak.” Eddie snorted, shaking his head fondly. “Want me to grab anything else?”

“I’m good. When you come back, let me hear what you’ve been workin’ on.” Call him sentimental, but he wanted to keep the moment as long as he could. Kids grow up so fast.

His jaw dropped, “You want to hear a Scorpion’s song? You hear that shit all the time though.”

“S’not so bad at this volume.”

“If you can’t feel it in your teeth, you aren’t doing the music justice.” Eddie shuffled in the doorway a moment, “Besides, it’d sound better on an electric. Not that there’s anything wrong with my girl, here.” He motioned to the guitar now strapped along his back.

“That so?” Wayne cocked an eyebrow up at him. It certainly hadn’t stopped him from playing all hours of the night before. “Sounds just fine to me.”

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Prepare for the most tame concert ever.” There was pure glee in his voice as he skittered away back into the trailer with newfound enthusiasm.

The future was a fragile, tentative thing, but he wanted one for Eddie. That’s all he ever wanted for his family, and if it took a few extra shifts, and some sleepless nights to ensure that? He’d do it again and again.

The rickety lawn chair scraped across the porch as Eddie scooted in closer. “You ready for this?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, kid.”

#Wayne Munson #eddie munson #kid eddie munson #found family #chalky writes #hurt/comfort #stranger things fanfic #stranger things season 4 #wayne munson is a good uncle #trauma is inherited #we get to see wayne and his brother as kids #it means the world to me to illustrate parental figures who may not be on the up and up but try their best to understand their kids #and where they're coming from with the tools and knowledge that they have #also eddie's soft 'coming out' is mirrored to my own #just enough information to say 'hey i came out #i did it' #without having to fully say the words #He Aint Heavy #part 2

[kaladinkholins]

uhhh thinkin about how mizu and taigen's relationship was described as "this meeting of the minds, this meeting of the swords, that they could not share with anybody else" in one of the netflix articles about the show

and i'm going crazy because YEAH they're both equally invested about swords and fighting in a way that nobody else in their lives are. and that's just. so important considering we're talking about mizu, who sees her sword as her own soul.

and it's not JUST mizu who's obsessed with fighting. taigen is too. cuz like after their duel at the shindo dojo, as taigen is examining his bald spot in the mirror where mizu cut off his hair, he literally interrupts his own turmoil over losing his honour, just to express his awe, openly admiring mizu's skill DESPITE the fact that mizu just beat his ass and stripped his honour and status from him

then in the next episode, mizu says a very similar line when she examines the cut flower that fowler had pinned to heiji shindo's robe.

this was also such a sudden thing to notice in the middle of their conversation (my interpretation of this is that it hints to fowler's own skills with a blade, and gives mizu information about her enemy being a formidable opponent), but the fact that mizu had such a keen eye and managed to hone in on such a tiny detail from like a foot or two away is interesting because it shows us just how attentive mizu is, especially when it comes to blades and anything to do with them

to mizu (when she's not spiralling and agonising over her own self-hatred and the way the world treats her), swords are not a mere tool for revenge, but an art form which she is fascinated by and loves and admires. we see this from time to time, during rare moments of respite, like when she admires the duel in the beginning of ep4

mizu also takes to heart all the teachings from her years training, while taigen is interestingly less strict about them, basically disregarding some of those teachings as mere pedantry, or even if he doesn't actually really think so, he at least tells mizu as much in his attempt to comfort her after her sword breaks

but that doesn't mean he doesn't care for the more formal aspects of his training at all. because in ep3 when he says this

this line about mount sumeru is not talking about the literal mountain in front of them, but is a recitation of a line from the lotus sutra, which is among the mahayana sutras that they learned as part of their spiritual training, as zen buddhism forms a lot of the basis for samurai doctrines and philosophy. the sutra given more emphasis in the show is the heart sutra that mizu writes on her body in ep7 during her rite of rebirth

so taigen saying this line, as i see it, is a way to bond with mizu, or at least make conversation over their shared knowledge, as we see him await a reaction as soon as he says this. but mizu gives him none, and he looks disappointed/annoyed/frustrated or what have you as he watches her walk off without a word

also we see a little more of their shared knowledge of swordsmanship in the last episode when it's clear that mizu has been training ringo in sword fighting techniques

and later taigen recognises it instantly

they're both nerds about swords and fighting!!! they both respect each other's skills!!!

GOD i really hope in future episodes they get to bond some more over their shared passion and common training and just samurai camaraderie in general!!! mizu clearly loves the artistry of sword fighting so much, she deserves to have a confidant who shares that with her, someone she can talk openly about these things to!!!

because like remember when mikio was telling her about the naginata, she looked soooo uwu in love!!! admiring her husband as he showed off the weapon and told her the benefits of using it!!! believing at the time that she'd found a match who she could openly share her love of martial arts with!! she was having so much fun sparring him too. everyone says fighting is part of her love language and YES it IS!!!

except the difference is that mikio—due to, among other things, their large age difference and subsequent gap in life experience—believes he is mizu's teacher, rather than her equal. this is the role he's readily taken throughout their marriage, from teaching her how to throw a knife to cut down fruit (not like she needed that particular lesson), to teaching her equestrian skills.

meanwhile taigen and mizu were both kids growing up poor in the same backwater fishing village, which means that they are and always have been PEERS. and this becomes even more pronounced once taigen is stripped of his giant ego and unlearns his prejudice, allowing them both to fully respect each other and view each other as equals

which is again why it frustrates taigen when mizu admits later in this scene that she basically doesn't care about saving the shogun. like he gets mad because it upends his initial belief in their shared goals and aligned values, believing them both to be samurai of equal standing and honour.

ALSO i'd like to add, that though mizu is the better swordsman as we see her win all their brawls and matches, she doesn't surpass him by that much, and mizu knows this.

these words coming from mizu is such a huge compliment all things considered, acknowledging that he was strong enough to deserve fighting her, because shortly before this mizu was just about to say "no one has given me much of a challenge" only for taigen to enter the scene and, well, challenge her.

now combine this with her saying that chiaki's broken blade suits him well, giving to him HER sword which SHE made AND won, as a surety, promising him a duel that he "deserves". it's proof that even though she finds taigen an annoying brat and oftentimes an obstacle to her mission for revenge, she DOES respect him and does value his skills.

IN CONCLUSION nobody else is on their level, nobody else shares their love of swordsmanship and that is such an important factor to their bond and the way they relate to each other. i rest my case your honour

#mizu x taigen #taigen x mizu #taimizu #taizu #blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #taigen blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai meta #i caaaant stop thinking about THEM #like im soooo sorry im being annoying and cant shut up about these two #the brainrot is real yall. pray for me in these trying times #shut up haydar #meta dissertations.pdf #fandom.rtf

[brighteuphony]

On the way back from Tea Country with Chakra-poisoned Kakashi tryna "casually" fish for some info before Sakura comes in with the one-hit KO on accident.

So she's got some complicated feelings for Kakashi as well, though they're a lot milder than what she feels about Sasuke.

There's a moment in my AU where Sakura goes through a deep reflection ritual, in which she has to face Inner Sakura -who is representative of all the ugly truths her day-to-day self hasn't been able to face- and come to terms with who she is.

During that time, she's got to face the music.

The music:

Sasuke is the last prodigal son of a clan that was brutally butchered. He's a genius with one of the most powerful dojutsu out there (that he has no idea how to use) and is coming in hot with more baggage than an airport terminal.

Naruto is not normal. She doesn't know what he is (as in-canon, she finds out after the time-skip and the Sakura from above is right on the cusp of Shippuden), but there's nothing normal about a kid who can pull wild orange chakra and who can fight Gaara's tailed beast and come out on top. He's got the personal attention of the Hokage, but the entire village has banded against him for some reason. He's special.

Kakashi is a war veteran turned Jounin and an infamous ANBU captain (I headcanon that some ANBU names are leaked specifically to generate a healthy level of fear/caution among other villages- which is why we know of Itachi/Kakashi/Shisui very publically) and is ALSO the last prodigal son of an old noble clan.

(No way a bookworm like Sakura didn't consume every publically available scroll on Konoha clans).

It doesn't take the big brains to figure out that he got team 7 specifically to help deal with Sasuke's trauma/teach him about the Sharingan, and put a leash on Naruto (and in the future, when she finds out that Madara was able to control the Kyuubi with the Sharingan as well as the knowledge that Kakashi was Minato's student it becomes even clearer why he got the Sasuke/Naruto combo.)

And Sakura? Sakura is a civilian. No clan, no dojutsu, nothing to her name except great chakra control. She's the literal meat in the meat-grinder of the military machine of Konoha, the acceptable sacrifice in a group of otherwise invaluable shinobi. She's just a...girl. (And it doesn't help that she was obsessed with Sasuke instead of training, furthering the gulf between her and Kakashi.)

Kakashi was absolutely not built to handle her- in fact, Kakashi has NO idea how to relate who hasn't gone through a mountain's worth of trauma or someone who hasn't been ingrained in the shinobi-as-a-tool lifestyle, and even then, he's not fully equipped to handle people who have (lmao Sasuke). Not to mention the man is a prodigy- he has no idea how to teach people who have to work hard to get somewhere in life. How do you teach someone if you've never had to 'work hard' to get there yourself?

So, Sakura understands that Kakashi was put in one of the most ridiculous situations of his career- a situation he had NO idea how to handle. She can forgive him for that. BUT, she can't forgive him for not trying his best.

Sakura spent a lot of time coming to terms with the fact that she rushed into the Chidori/Rasengan combo without a single idea of what she would do, but...Kakashi was a big reason for that.

She was HIS responsibility, and he fumbled that bag. Whatever his reasoning, whether it was to 'protect' her, or whether he thought she was worthless, whatever: he should have TRIED.

Kakashi was an adult with resources aplenty. He recognized that she had stellar chakra control but never bothered to teach her genjutsu or direct her to teachers who could pick up the slack.

And after the accident, he abandoned her again. Being forgotten in lieu of Sasuke and Naruto hurt...but she could heal. Being abandoned as some kind of martyr to Kakashi's failures as a teacher? It's gonna take a while for Kakashi to make that up to her...if he can muster the courage to face her.

Sakura finally understands why he preferred the memorial stone to the living. He already failed the dead, and it's easier to wallow in self-flagellation than it is to try and step up for the living.

Sakura stopped being a coward some time ago, and when Kakashi finally does the same, she'll forgive him.

Thank you so much for sticking with this wall of text! And thank you so much anon for the question! Once again, I really appreciate all the kind words people have been throwing my way. <3 <3 <3

#naruto #haruno sakura #kakashi #Blind!Sakura #Her teachers in order: #Chiyo: Medicine and Chakra control #Saeko: Genjutsu master who lives with Enji #Enji: Ninjutsu specialist and general cheerleader #Aren Uzumaki: Pirate captain and Fuinjutsu specialist #her necklace is a western style evil eye pendant - the last thing Enji gave to her before he passed away #coven!Sakura

[cdlum]

I just wanted to say I think your art style is awesome! I was wondering if you had any tutorials on how you draw anatomy in your style (hips and legs especially)? Sorry if there's already one posted and I just didn't see it 🥲. Happy New Year :>

thanks for the kind words. i tend to draw people pretty stylized and then some so a good bit of artistic licence gets used. these tips are just what i use so feel free to take them with a grain of salt. with anatomy in particular you can kind of talk in circles because human/animal bodies are that complex so ill just zone in on the points you specified. here's a little image with a bunch of pointers:

the above image condenses a lot of the points I'd make, but basically the key parts are to start with the bare essentials and build up that complexity. using a line of action is a good way to get a quick, rough start. you draw a line out in the general direction of the pose and do your best to adhere to it to give the pose a sense of flow.

you can also draw smaller, thumbnail versions that throw a lot of caution to the wind but capture the basic energy of what you're going for. even having a tiny little stick figure version of your idea can make for a good guideline of where to take it forward.

when it comes to actual limbs, you wanna consider how they integrate and work together, kind of like how chains do. you can see on some of the parts of pear i've drawn out these wireframes to kind of portray how the mass of her legs works in a three dimensional space. for aspects like the waist/hips, i use that X technique i highlight above a lot, particularly for the lower torso. a lot of the times, even when drawing a character totally naked, imagining them wearing things like skintight underwear can help a lot to guide you in the right direction.

its also a good idea to consider things like gravity and weight to a degree. humans are essentially big meat sacks and gravity is always pulling down on that, but theres all kinds of aspects that effect that, such as character build or clothing. pear technically isn't naked in this, but i've tried to imagine her as such and take that into account.

if you are drawing digitally, don't be afraid to take advantage of the convenience you get with that workflow. you can retry and iterate on things a lot faster that pen and paper, and do things that aren't really feasible at all when it comes to editing and modifying your existing work. things like resizing certain bodyparts, instantly flipping the canvas, or using selection tools to completely adjust the positions of parts of your drawing. to give you an example heres a timelapse with all the little edits i made just to this demo drawing:

you don't have to use these techniques linearly, either. sometimes ill have a really solid idea for a piece in my head, and go back to basics with certain elements if they’re not coming out right or i just want to brush them up a bit more. some of the tutorial-y parts i added in i didn't actually use during the drawing but often do use so they're there just for demonstration. not every drawing i do starts as building blocks or a really basic version, often ill just start with a face and build it out from there.

i always encourage liberally using references (this can include yourself) and trying out stuff like life drawing or looking at things like existing photographs of real people/places/things if you can, the more you use learning material the better you'll draw up a mental inventory in your head that you can rely on more and more. some of these tips are things i've learned from other artists over the years (the chin one especially i remember seeing a tutorial about lol), so this is a lot of knowledge i've amassed from other sources over time myself. there are plenty of times ill use all sorts of reference material and its all in service of arriving at the final destination as smoothly as possible. learn by doing, as they say. hope this helps!

#tutorial #2024

[shizucheese]

Okay okay okay, I need everyone to listen to me about this.

I know I kinda talked about this before in a reblog to someone else's post, but the idea has been rotating in my brain ever since and I feel like it needs to be further explored. A lot of people have been talking about the differences between TMA and TMP, and memeing about how people can actually quit the OIAR (which btw, I'll believe when I actually see it, by which I mean if we're able to get through the entire series without Teddy either coming back or turning up dead or otherwise facing "You can quit but you can never leave" levels of repercussions) but like nobody, from what I've seen, has been talking about what imo is the pretty glaringly obvious element at play here. So let's talk about the spider in the room, shall we? What do we know about the Magnus Institute in TMA?

People came there to give statements regarding their spooky experiences, including people who had doubts about doing so (because they weren't sure if the Institute was reputable, because they weren't sure if they believed what they had experienced, because they served a different entity so what reason would they have to do something for The Eye, etc).

The head archivist would ultimately become the Archivist, an Avatar of the Eye.

The Archivist's abilities included enabling statement givers to give their statements without going off track or leaving out details (we even see what happens when it's not the Archivist taking the statement), and being able to compel people to tell them things against their will, from statements to their darkest secrets.

You couldn't quit, at least not without gouging your eyes out.

The Magnus Institute was a part of the Eye.

Or was it? Because the other thing we know about the Magnus Institute is that the Web was using it as part of its plan to break free from the TMA world and gain access to the other worlds out there. How much of the compulsion aspects of the Institute-- people being drawn to the Institute to give statements, the Archivist's ability to draw statements and secrets out of people, people's inability to quit the Institute--was actually because of the Web? Where does the Eye's "compulsion to seek out knowledge even if it could be bad/ harmful" end and the Web's "not being in control of your own actions" begin? Was the Archivist--at least in the form Gertrude and John took--really purely an Avatar of the Eye? Or were they an Avatar of a mix between The Eye and the Web, much like how Martin, if he were to ever become a full fledged Avatar, likely would have been a mix of the Eye and the Lonely, just like his domain in S5 was? After all, Jonah was an Eye Avatar, was he not? And as far as we saw, he never needed to compel information out of people. He just Knew it (and used it to torment people).

One of the themes I've been playing around with in my TMA fanfictions since I first finished the podcast for the first time last winter is how the course of history would be different in the alternate worlds, where the Web wasn't interfering--at least not on the same scale, or for the same reasons--since it had already gotten what it wanted at the end of TMA. And I think that's exactly what we're seeing a version of in Protocol. I think the OIAR is what it looks like when it's entirely the Eye at play, with 0 interference from the Web. The Eye is all about having your secrets exposed, being watched, being followed. The tape recorders--something that would need to be turned off and on (controlled) in order to record something--were a tool of the Web. Now we're "witnessing" the events of the podcast through the audio from security cameras and other things that are constantly running; constantly seeing and listening without needing to be turned on and off. The statements aren't being given by people who somehow found their way to the institute and were on some level or another compelled to tell their tales. They're journal entries detailing a person's private thoughts. They're letters meant only for the eyes of the recipient, sharing secrets not meant for anyone else. They're recorded therapy sessions.

And the statements that are related to the Eye? The ones read in John's voice? They're forum and blog posts, which not only makes them the only ones whose sources didn't have the same expectation of privacy as the others, also ties them to the Web, since computers and websites were previously established as being associated with it.

#the magnus protocol #the magnus protocol spoilers #tmp #tmp spoilers #tmagp #tmagp spoilers #tma spoilers #shizu's red string board

[borzoilover69]

Alpha kids and why I like them (AKA the loneliest kids in paradox space)

(Elaboration under the cut.)

To get the nitty gritty out of the way, I like the Alphas because they're so openly flawed and relatable as characters, yet incredibly talented and ambitious in their desire to achieve and succeed, even though they're doomed. They're doomed to never even come close.

Take a look at the starting of the Beta's session, versus the Alpha session. The beta session starts in spring, a season thematically connected to nature, new beginnings, change, and opportunity. Their story grants them the chance to change and grow and realise their full potential, of which they do with the help of the trolls. They are the heroes, they are the ones that will create a new world.

The Alpha session starts in fall, otherwise known as Autumn. It's fitting that it's called the fall, given it truly is. Fall symbolises the late stages of maturity, decline, decay, and death. Their story is not one of creating, of realising their potentials. They were told to wait. There was to be no positive growth, no positive development or true adventure and beginnings, the planets they inherited were barren, and with only each other as company, it put a strain on their relationships that broke them apart. They were never called heroes. They were called Nobles. Their session, their entire lives, were ruled by the VOID. Not BREATH.

Even their tools that we first learn of them using are thematically on par. The betas, with their alchemiter, create a retinue of cool things to use, upgrade their fraymotifs, so on. They create and thrive. The alpha session is given a gristwidget, to conserve and survive.

They struggle. Terribly. The one thing that was supposed to save them, to be the biggest thing in their lives, was a massive disappointment and year long wait with nothing that much going on. They struggle with seeming independent, never feeling like enough (again, the void) and their expectations were such a let down for what they all expected.

The game was supposed to be the time where they reunited, where mind you, they saw their LIFE LONG friends, and finally had the chance to grow and change with each other, but it fell first. To quote a buddy of mine.

youre telling me they were given horrible starts and the game that they were anticipating their entire lives ended up killing them and oh it started a downward spiral of the very bonds theyve spent so much working up to? to.. wait for better people to save you? fuck my life man.

They resonate me because they have such high expectations for themselves and refuse to communicate because of that, because for so long they've been doing it on their own it becomes genuinely hard to talk about the things that suck. There's a VOID separating them all, whether it's Janes VOID in knowledge, the VOID that Roxy handles by indulging in underage drinking, the VOID of Dirks heart, splintering and constantly plaguing his thoughts, or the VOID that Jake has to struggle with as he borders on knowing, and being willfully ignorant if it means he can be comfortable. There is a VOID. A VOID separating them from their friends, from their achievements, and their potentials.

It's so hopeless. Their aspects, their themes, their stories and relationships, they're never enough, it's a struggle of not being enough. Do you know what it's like to finally make a change and oh, it turns out it's going to be debilitating to you? You get your big break and.. it's not it.

Their expectations crashed on the shores of opportunity and they could only watch and wait for their ancestors, who they never got to truly know to save them. The true heroes. Even their alpha versions were defined as heroes, adamant on fighting the condesce and bringing her down. They were never shown as human beings, they were yet another expectation to hold themself up to and aspire to be, which they could never surmount to.

They struggled to amount to something in their lives and they fell short. They became for the most part worse versions of themselves, and they blamed themselves terribly for it. Their moment isn't a rise, it's a fall. Everything just got worse. They're stuck with that feeling of insecurity, of inadequacy, that void, because they couldn't do what they needed to do as well as their dancestors, the kind of "I know we were doomed to fail and there's nothing we could've done to change it, but I feel like we are lesser for not finding a way."

The guilt that the betas had to go for YEARS to get a happy ending, and they didn't break as much as the alphas. The betas seem so much stronger than the alphas in a "if THEY could handle it, couldn't YOU GUYS handle it?" way, but it's not about which group had it harder, it's different. The alphas had so much bullshit happen, more than the betas, because they didn't really have the exposure to outside world that told them "hey you shouldn't always hold yourself to such high expectations constantly it will do a number on you if you expect so much from yourself and your peers." but it didn't exist.

The betas didn't grow up in shattered worlds. Maybe they grew up in households that weren't intact, but it was never the same level as the alphas, not even close. The alphas were broken from the start, in time, in space, in beginning. A VOID. They're so unbelievably tragic for that.

And the saddest most tragic part is. We don't see them change for the better. We see them *come to terms* with their flaws, but in ways that are detrimental in the long run, it's almost fitting that the only one that adjusted for the better was Roxy, Rogue of Void, and even then she indulges as soon as she's given a chance to do so. Because it's hard to grow up and change your ways. It's hard to grow up and change and grow and nobody really understands.

#oh ok so you set off the sleeper agent #alpha kids #homestuck #hom3stuck #homestuck meta #borzoi meta #borzoi tals #borzoi art #roxy lalonde #dirk strider #jane crocker #jake english

[marzipanandminutiae]

The Snark Is Real This Morning

Oh no! Some patriarchal shill just had an Illegal Corset Thought on the Internet!

Maybe they said "corsets weren't invented by the patriarchy" or "comfort was actually often a prime concern for most women's day-to-day corset-wearing, as evidenced by mid-late 19th century advertising" or "women didn't go around fainting constantly because most of them didn't tightlace most of the time."

Maybe they brought up "survivorship bias in extant clothing" or "rampant photo doctoring in the 19th/early 20th century" or "treating satirical cartoons and fashion plates as gospel" or "museums displaying corsets laced entirely closed when wear patterns and primary sources indicate that lacing gaps were more common in many times and places" These concepts are actually conspiracies invented by Big Misogyny to sell more booze to depressed history workers!

Maybe one of them said that she'd worn corsets, or even that she and/or her friends actually found them more comfortable than bras! Clearly she believes this is representative of all women throughout history and in the present day. Besides, she is suffering from Femininity Poisoning and nothing coming out of her silly, weak little brain can be taken seriously. Remember, it is Peak Feminism to dismiss what a woman says because of her gender presentation!

Don't be fooled! All of these statements mean one thing: they are saying that corsets were and are, always and forever, universally feminist and empowering. That no woman in the past ever found them uncomfortable, and that GNC women didn't exist before 1960 and also are icky. Did they actually say that? Doesn't matter! You know what she Really Meant- you've seen P*rates of the Caribbean and Br*dgerton! Corsets were always torture devices meant to oppress women, and any statement contradicting that clearly means the extreme opposite.

So what's a right-thinking and concerned Internet Citizen to do? You have a few options:

See point above re: femininity. Feminine-presenting women are basically brainless, so if a woman talking about dress history Wears An Skirt, you can just write off whatever she says. Easy peasy! Be sure to say something derogatory about her appearance, so others know why they shouldn't take her seriously.

Accuse them of not knowing their history. Any degrees, professional experience, publications, academic accolades, etc. they may have are irrelevant. Their primary sources are...idk photoshopped or something? Best to ignore them altogether. You have Feelings on your side, and that's far more valuable than any research!

Accuse them of accusing you of being a t*rf. Works especially well if they've said anything about the preponderance of t*rfs expressing your True and Correct views- that just means they're calling everyone who thinks like you a transphobe, duh!

Tell them they're not believing women. If they have cited so-called "realities of historical women's lives," well, that's clearly just the rich elite of any given era (who were also brainrotted by Femininity, natch). If you're a woman, and you say corsets were the spawn of Beelzebub, that should be enough ~evidence~ for anyone!

Appeal to common knowledge. Everyone KNOWS corsets were evil; can they really be DEFENDING a KNOWN HATEFUL OPPRESSIVE HELL-GARMENT?! What is the world coming to! If they ask how exactly everyone knows that and where that collective belief comes from, reply with a snarky GIF and block them. There's just no reasoning with some people.

Call them a tradwife. Are they a tradwife? Irrelevant.

With all these tools in your arsenal, you are now well-equipped to fight the horde of vile corset apologists online. Remember: It's Only Real Oppression If The Oppressed Group Is Miserable 24/7!

#long post #rant #dress history #fashion history #corsets #sarcasm

[three-penguins-in-a-trench-coat]

Memory in Stardew Valley is kinda fucked

So, memory in Stardew Valley is almost like a tangible thing, and I wanna talk about it. I mean technically speaking, you can sell it, trade it, swap it, bop it, twist it and so on and so forth. Why do I wanna talk about it? Because I have no social life and the only thing I can feel is the rage of my ancestors as I harvest yet another batch of ancient fruit wine.

Most people know about the Dark Shrine of Memory, the fun statue that wipes your ex's memories for a quick buck. Now that's pretty neat and all, but I think this leads to further interpretation I'm sure Concerned Ape wouldn't think is relevant but I'm gonna push it.

Someone had to put that statue there. I don't think it's the witch, because she has to shell up 30 big ones every time another thirsty wizard comes along. Also, Rasmodius still has his memories of them, and if I were her I wouldn't want a guy like Razzle-Dazzle thinking about her. And it's probably vice-versa, as the witch still curses the town from time to time to spite the purple-haired goblin.

Mr Qi would be a reasonable guess, especially since you have to pay to use it, and he is known to have several marketing schemes around the place, but this one doesn't feel like him. I think there's another powerful creature out and about, they've stumbled across a way to erase memories and are using it for profit. The witch is just a tool behind the mastermind.

On top of the memory shrine, the Dark Shrine of Selfishness also contains a portion of memory magic. No one remembers the children that disappeared. No one except the farmer. Perhaps some immunity comes with being a fallen god, or perhaps it's simply because they're the ones that paid, so they are cursed to forever remember their sin. Either way, considering the fact that two of the statues directly erase memories, there's something interesting going on.

Another aspect of memories that people don't often think about is resetting days. Now this does reach a fair bit into undertale, but I think it applies pretty well here too. Days can loop over and over again, and no one will remember any of them, except for the Farmer. With the knowledge and foresight of what's happening, the Farmer can escape danger and the villagers know no better. There is perhaps only two other people in Stardew who might have an idea of what's going on. The Witch, and Mr Qi.

The witch is obvious, she has the shrines in her house, but from Mr Qi's dialogue, we can gleam an idea of what he may know.

I got to where I am through the force of pure willpower, kid. You see... The mind is a very powerful tool. In fact, it's the most powerful tool in all of reality... and beyond

“Some things transcend time and space, kid. It's a unique feeling in the heart... a whisper of things beyond.”

Now it could be pretty easy to interpret this a hundred different ways, but I want to link it to memory right now. The specific wording states that Mr Qi might be aware of resetting save files and that memories can be erased. I don't think he can alter other people's memories (though we don't know enough about him to be sure), but he may have found a way to keep his own memories safe.

Perhaps it's even how he found the Farmer. One day, he wakes up again, and he knows it's the same day. This happens sometimes, and he's forced to live the same day twice, three times or even more sometimes. He seeks out the source of the issue and stumbles across the farmer. On the surface, they seem like a regular person, until one day, the day resets again and the Farmer acts like they've done it a thousand times, taking every right move in the mines and getting everything they failed to do in the last attempt.

I think Mr Qi would want to keep an eye on someone like that.

From all of this, I have come to a conclusion. The statues present the idea of memory, but they also show that memory magic can be used to accomplish very specific tasks. We've only seen a few examples, but it wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that memory could be distorted a thousand different ways in Stardew. Perhaps none of the memories you have of your neighbour are real, and they never existed before yesterday. Or your parents actually died when you were three and you were raised by the spirits of hell. You actually have the memories of your best friend who died last week. Who knows?

Nothing is real, reality is an illusion.

#there is the possibility I'm overthinking this #but ive never listened to the rational part of my brain before #im not starting now #stardew valley #stardew #sdv #stardew farmer #sdv mr qi #mr qi #stardew theories #stardew theory

[astrophileous]

Happy birth month to you, Zara!! 🎉

I'd like to request a Derek Morgan x BAU!reader fic (angst, maybe leading to smut) where they are on a bombing case and as usual Derek, being our ever loving and stubborn explosives expert, stays with a target who activated the bomb trigger. Maybe reader is as stubborn as Derek and stays with him and it becomes a thing and all that pent up adrenaline and tension just 🤌🏼🫴🏼 😅

maybe some fluff after too 🥹

Thank you so much love!! Thanks for requesting as well ❤️ I hope you like how this turned out 💕

Warning(s): fem!reader, explosives, profanities, verbal altercation, 18+ nsfw content minors dni, handjob, angry sex (starts out that way at least), unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, lmk if I missed anything

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Derek was beginning to think that the universe was out to get him. It was the only logical explanation he could come up with for the situation he found himself stuck in: standing next to a minivan with an activated bomb underneath its driver's seat. The owner of the car, a woman by the name Pansy, was gripping his hand like a vice, cutting off circulation to it completely, but he couldn't care less about that. Getting blood into his hand was the least of Derek's worries right now.

"How's my baby?" Pansy suddenly asked amidst her tears.

Derek glanced at you, who had been trying to unbuckle the infant from his car seat for the past couple of minutes. One wrong move and the car would explode in the blink of an eye, obliterating everything in its immediate vicinity. This knowledge loomed at the back of your head as you languidly lifted the baby into your arms.

"Got him," you breathed out. You dashed away to take Pansy's son to safety, and despite her not being out of harm's way yet, Derek could feel the tightness of her grip around his hand loosening even if just for the tiniest bit.

Not three minutes later, you came back with a box of tools in your hand. Derek didn't like the grim expression on your face as your gaze flitted his way.

"The bomb squad isn't coming," you muttered.

"What?" Pansy exlclaimed. Even quiet as you were, there was no way you could say anything to Derek without Pansy hearing about it. The woman panicked as her eyes scampered repeatedly between you and Derek. "What are you talking about?"

"Pansy." Derek's voice came with a reassuring squeeze, a silent request for her to calm down. He turned to you again immediately, "What do you mean, they're not coming?"

"Land access is out since the bridge collapsed during the last bombing. They're sending in aerial support, but with everything that's been going on, it'll take at least 30 minutes, which is a time we don't have," you lamented, extending your hand to present the toolbox to Derek's face. "Hotch gave you the go-ahead."

With a curse under his breath, Derek accepted the box with his free hand. You slid in next to him so you could peek into the car.

"Pansy?" Frightened blue eyes scuttered towards your face. Despite the current predicament, you managed to offer her a somewhat genuine smile. "Hey, how are we holding up there? My name's Agent (Y/L/N), I work with Agent Morgan in the FBI. I wanted to let you know that your son is safe. He's with the rest of our team right now."

Pansy hiccuped around a sob. "He's safe?"

"One hundred percent." You nodded. "Listen, Agent Morgan here used to work with the bomb squad. He's gonna defuse the bomb so all of us can get out of here safely. But in order to do that, you need to let go of his hand, okay? Here, you can hold mine instead."

Your last statement caused Derek to turn his head around so fast, you were sure he would have gotten a whiplash. The incredulity was thick in his voice as he asked, "Sweet girl, what are you doing?"

You didn't look at him once. In fact, your eyes were still glued to Pansy's face when you said, "I'm not leaving you."

But Derek knew better.

You weren't saying that sentence to Pansy.

You were saying it to him.

In any other situation, Derek would have admonished you for your stupid decision. But right in that moment, in front of Pansy who was this close to spiraling, and with time completely against his side, Derek couldn't do anything else but relent. Reluctantly, he let go of Pansy's hand and allowed you to take his place. With another deep breath, Derek kneeled next to the car and began to work.

11 minutes and 16 seconds; that was how long it took for Derek to carefully disarm the explosive. Pansy sank into your embrace as soon as Derek removed the device from her seat, bringing it as far away from the crowd as possible as you took the young mother to see her infant son.

After neutralizing the threat, you received word from the rest of your team about the identity of the UnSub. Following a strenuous chase, you eventually closed the day with an arrest, ending the nightmare of the case once and for all. You marked it as a win in your book.

Back at the hotel, everyone scurried to their respective rooms in no time, eager to wash away the residual horror of the case with a cold shower and slept the exhaustion off before the team had to catch an early flight back to Virginia the next morning. You, too, had been dreaming about the plush mattress waiting for your arrival back at your room. But before you could reach the familiar door to your hotel room, your steps halted when warm fingers suddenly encircled your wrist.

"We need to talk," Derek said sharply. He didn't give you a chance to say anything before leading you towards his hotel room.

"What's this about, Derek?" you questioned once the door shut behind Derek's back.

"I can't believe you'd do something reckless like that, (Y/N)."

You frowned at him in confusion. "What? What do you mean?"

"You know what I'm talking about. You stayed back knowing there was a bomb! You knew what could've happened. You didn't have to be there, but you stayed anyway. What the fuck, (Y/N)?!"

"That's what this is about?" You scoffed incredulously. "You're mad at me because I did my job?"

"That wasn't part of the job and you know it, sweetheart. You could've been killed."

"I know that! God, you don't think I know that?!"

"You knew? Oh, good! So you knew about the chances of you getting killed in that situation, but you still went ahead and did it anyway. What the fuck were you thinking?!"

"I don't need to fucking explain myself to you, Derek." You stepped further into the room, trying to draw as much distance from the man whom you considered your best friend for the past two years of you working with the BAU. His hostility was foreign. You mourned the absence of his usual warmth as you wrapped your arms defensively around your torso. "What about you, anyway?"

"Me?"

"You act as if I was the only one putting themselves in danger, but you were there, too. You could've been killed as well. A little bit hypocritical, isn't it?!"

"That's different."

You rolled your eyes. "Of course it is. Why? Because your hero complex wouldn't allow you to share the stage with anyone else?"

"(Y/N)—"

"Or is it your trust issues that force you to do anything on your own?"

"Stop it—"

"Oh, I get it! Maybe you're no different than those other alpha males out there! Is that it? You want me to leave all the dangerous and scary jobs to the big, strong men—"

"I said, stop it."

A gasp stumbled past your lips when you suddenly found your back connecting with the wall, trapped between the concrete surface and Derek's muscular chest. There was no way to run. Derek's stare was sweltering as it pierced right through your soul.

"Have you always been this insufferable?" Derek growled.

"I don't know. Have you always been this chauvinistic?"

"You never know when to shut the hell up, do you?"

"Well—" you puffed your chest out, leveling your own stare with his unyielding one, "—why don't you make me?"

The atmosphere thickened inside the room.

Before you could process what was happening, Derek had suddenly lunged forward, claiming your lips in a kiss so heated unlike any other you had ever known.

Derek domineered every single one of your senses. Your body only knew his touch as his palms roamed your curves and edges. The kiss was a battle of desperation, a mess of tongue and heaving breaths that span your world off its axis.

When Derek's mouth strayed to your neck, nipping around the spot right below your ear, you swore your bones melted into liquid inside of your body.

"So goddamn aggravating," Derek griped against your ear. "You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?"

"You're just gonna keep talking? Or are you finally gonna put that mouth to a good use?"

The smirk on your lips was wiped away instantly when Derek kissed you again. He maneuvered the two of you towards the bed, where Derek laid you down with a gentleness that contradicted the spite he had shown so far. Clothes were being shed at an inhumane speed, and before long, you found yourself sprawled naked underneath Derek's impressive frame.

Your hand wandered southward as Derek peppered kisses across your chest. The moment your fingers wrapped around his length, Derek's whole body shivered in response.

"Fuck. What are you doing to me?" he muttered.

You continued to pump his shaft, enjoying the melodic sounds Derek was making as your pace grew faster with each second. Mere moments later, however, your movement was halted when Derek's fingers tugged at your wrist.

"Slow down, pretty girl. I wanna be inside of you when I cum."

His declaration was sealed with a kiss.

Using an unbelievable display of strength, Derek then manhandled you to your front, forcing you to rest on all fours as he settled on his knees right behind the sensual curves of your ass.

"Shit. Look at this pussy," Derek remarked crudely. You moaned into the bedsheets when his fingers rubbed up and down your slit, collecting the wetness without ever grazing the number one spot where you needed him the most. "Beautiful, sweetheart. You're so fucking gorgeous."

"You can tell me about how gorgeous you think I am later, Derek. Just shut up and fuck me already."

"Impatient girl." Derek chuckled.

You yelped when his palm landed a harsh slap to each one of your ass cheeks. The sting was chased away instantly by the feeling of Derek's cock prodding around your entrance. The two of you moaned in unison once his length went in, filling every inch of your channel until he was sheathed to the hilt.

As Derek started to move, the lump of arousal in the pit of your stomach increased in size. The drag of his cock felt delicious against your throbbing walls. Derek moved inside of you at a sedulous pace. The grip he had on either side of your hips felt like a promise of fresh bruises that you couldn't wait to wake up to once morning arrived.

With a particularly harsh thrust into your soaking pussy, Derek sent your brain gyrating into the stars.

"Derek, please—ohhh. Feels so good."

"I know, pretty girl. Fuck. Gripping my cock so well, sweetheart. You hear that? Hear how wet you sound?"

You nodded wordlessly, your ears assaulted by the squelching sound of your combined arousal as you pressed your face against the mattress. Derek drove into you even faster, hitting the same spot every single time that had you blabbering incoherently into the sheets.

"D-Derek? I'm—mmpphhh, I'm so close. S-So close... oh fuck."

"Yeah? You're close, sweet girl?"

Derek's arm went around your torso, then, holding you up beneath your breast without ever relenting his movement. His breath tickled your ear in this new position, and you held onto the muscular arm holding you up in fear of collapsing from the continuous strike of pleasure.

"Do you wanna cum, sweetheart? Wanna cum for me?"

"Y-Yes! Please, please, please, Derek. Please, wanna cum so bad."

"Okay." Derek's other hand slid down your abdomen, all the way past your navel, until the rough pad of his fingers found your swolen clit. He began to rub it aggressively, earning a loud cry as you writhed in rapture. "Go on, then, pretty girl. Cum for me. Just let it go, sweetheart."

Your whole body convulsed as you slammed head first into your climax. Derek held you close through it all, stroking your damp skin and whispering sweet nothings as you came down from your high. Not long afterward, his own release caught up to him, pushing Derek to empty everything he had into the warmth of your tender hole.

Once minutes had passed, Derek carefully pulled out from you before gently laying you down on the bed. You were lost too deeply in the post-orgasmic bliss to notice that Derek had disappeared into the bathroom. The fog in your brain only started lifting when Derek returned and spread your thighs apart, using a damp wash cloth to clean up the mess that the two of you made on your upper thighs.

"How are you feeling?" Derek asked after he tossed away the cloth, squeezing your thigh affectionately.

"Tired. But good," you answered with a smile. "So... we should probably talk about what just happened, huh?"

Your question caused Derek's shoulders to tense, but he relaxed them again when your fingers reached out for his hand.

"Sorry I yelled at you," he offered sincerely. "You don't know this, pretty girl, but I made a vow to myself a long time ago to protect you. You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, I know that. But as long as there's air in my lungs, I will spend every day of my life trying to keep you safe. Do you understand?"

You nodded meekly as your heart constricted in its cage. Derek left a kiss to your knuckles before settling down to lie beside you.

"You're not the only one who made such a vow, Derek," you revealed quietly. "I also made one to myself that I would never drop your hand in the face of danger. I would never abandon you like that. I'd rather give my life than live in a world where you no longer exist."

"Don't say that. You don't mean it."

"But I do. I mean it with all my heart." You stroked Derek's cheek with the tip of your fingers, admiring his handsome face as his eyes stared at you intensely. "Wherever you go, I go, Derek."

"Wherever you go, I go as well," Derek promised, tightening the sanctity of the words with a kiss. "What you did was still stupid, though, so you better never do that again in the future."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can we please pause this conversation 'till morning? I'm literally about to pass out right now."

Derek grinned upon hearing your statement. "I fucked you real good, didn't I?"

You punched him on the shoulder. "Asshole."

Derek laughed wholeheartedly before pecking your pouting lips. "Only for you, pretty girl."

#criminal minds #derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x fem!reader #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan smut #derek morgan angst #derek morgan fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x you #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #derek morgan fic #derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #zara's birthday bash and road to 1k

[barananduen]

Art Advice: The Misconception Behind "Study Realism"

Most people who draw anime/cartoons have, while asking for ways to improve, at one point or another been told to "study realism." A common response to this is, "But I don't want to draw realism!"

But, did you know that the purpose behind this suggestion is NOT so that you draw realism? They're not suggesting you change to a more realistic style. What, then?

Let's look at this through an analogy:

Say you don't know music yet and decide you want to learn how to play the Happy Birthday song. You're not interested in playing anything else, just the HB song, and you haven't started learning anything related to music at this point. OK, that's fine, and now we have our situation set up. Once you've decided this, you set yourself to learning the sequence of notes to the HB song. You practice and practice, and, after a while, you can play it really well without a hitch. After a few years, it starts feeling bland to you, and you ask, "How can I make my HB song better?" And someone tells you, "Learn all the other music notes," and "Study classical and other genres of music." And you reply, "But I don't want to play that type of music; I want to play the HB song!" (And that's FINE! It's valid; it's what you want to do.[*Footnote 1]) But without having learned all the other notes and other types of music, you can't make a remix of the HB song, or an "epic version," or a hip-hop-fusion version; you've capped at the end of the first paragraph of this story.

So drawing anime or cartoons is like playing the HB song, or any one song in our example.

And here's where our misunderstanding comes in:

"Study Realism" DOES NOT MEAN "Draw Realism"

Yes, you'll have to draw it to study it (not only your brain, but also your hand needs to learn the skill), but it doesn't mean that's what all your artwork will look like. It is meant to give you more tools to make your anime and cartoon work stronger, more appealing, and more unique.

How will it do that? The more music notes you know, the more types of music you understand and can play, the more original a remix /version of the Happy Birthday song you'll be able to make - and it will be unique. Because you will be able to take all that diverse knowledge and apply it to your song, making it stand out, and the next time you play the HB song, people will go, "Wow! This is a really cool version!"

So now we can be clear: There is a difference between learning something and performing it. You can perform whatever you choose, but by learning all the things, your performance of your "Thing of Choice" will be stronger.

What, Exactly, Will Studying Realism Teach You, Then?

I. VALUES

If you learn how to paint/shade with a full range of values (by learning realistic shading) that properly depict both volume and lighting, you will have no trouble simplifying that to cel-shading or gradient-shading in your anime or cartoon drawings, because you will at once spot when something is undershaded or the shadows are in the wrong spot.

On the other hand, if you try to do cel- or gradient-shading first, you are way more likely to a) undershade, and b) have an inconsistent light source. And when these things happen, you won't be able to tell *why* your drawing looks "off" or bland.

II. COLOR

By studying realistic coloring, you'll be able to learn how color varies across an item (say, a shirt) that is a "solid color." Example: you're drawing a character with a pink t-shirt, standing in the sun, at the end of the school day. The t-shirt is solid pink, however, the colors on it will vary from orange-ish to purple-gray, with some areas almost a bright red (and that's not even considering items around the shirt that would bounce light back onto the shirt and change its color). But you'll only know this (and how to do it) if you study realistic coloring.

Then you can apply that knowledge to your stylized artwork and make it stand out more.

Painting of a stylized pear, where I studied real pears to understand their coloring and texture. See how studying realism can enhance your cartoon work.

III. MAKE BETTER STYLIZED ANATOMY

By studying and learning realistic anatomy, you will be able to make stylized art that, for example, doesn't have one arm longer than the other, because you will have learned how to measure proportions, even if you don't draw realistic proportions. So that if you decide you want to draw unrealistically long legs (eg: Sailor Moon), you'll be able to make them look good and keep them consistent.

You will also be able to draw figures in any position, because you will have learned how body parts are made up and how they move, as well as foreshortening/perspective. Then, when you go to draw a pose you haven't drawn before, it will be WAY easier.

IV. UNDERLYING SHAPES

Although this is one of the least-mentioned aspects of art-learning, it is, in my opinion, one of the most important, because when you learn to see underlying shapes (the quasi-geometrical shapes that build up a figure), coupled with learning how to measure a form using other parts of the same form as reference (measuring the length of one body part by the number of times another body part fits in it, as mentioned in Section III, above), you will be able to DRAW. (Period.) You won't be able to draw just people. Or just wolves. Or just cats. You will be able to break down a new subject into its building blocks and come up with a very reasonable likeness. And whatever's different, you'll easily be able to make relative measurements to spot why and fix it.

Once you learn to identify underlying shapes and how to measure proportions in anything, you will also be able to pick up and reproduce any existing style without much trouble.

[link to Tumblr post with this artwork]

For example, this was my first time drawing anything Peanuts. I didn't have to do practice sketches for it (though there's nothing wrong with doing that). But I knew, from realism, that to achieve a good likeness, you need to measure body parts relative to other body parts, so I looked at Schulz's drawings and was able to determine: OK, Charlie Brown's head is roughly this shape, his body is so many heads tall, his eyes are this % of the head, the ears are this far in, the arms reach down to here, etc. I knew what to look for.

V. FOR THOSE WHO WANT SEMI-REALISM

If you want to do "semi-realism," you'll have a way easier time of it by learning realism and then stripping it down as much as you like, than by starting off with "100% anime" and trying to build it up without knowledge of realism. People think the latter is easier, because it *seems* less intimidating, but it's like trying to drive to a store you've never been to without knowing its address: you'll be driving around forever trying to find it, and it will be frustrating. What people call "semi-realism" is stylized realism, and you can't really hit it without knowing how realism works.

CLOSING NOTES

It also doesn't mean you should stop drawing anime/cartoons and focus solely on realism for X amount of time - you can do both concurrently. In fact, the most fun way to study realism is to do so on your favorite subjects; you can even turn your reference into your favorite character!

Studying realism is also one of the best ways to help develop your OWN, unique style; one which, when people look at it, say, "Oh, that's [your name]'s work!"

[*]Footnote 1: It is fine as long as you are drawing for yourself. As soon as art is a job and you're drawing for an employer, you have to draw in the style they tell you to. So, in this case, it's to your advantage to be flexible.

I hope this was helpful and helps clear up a common misunderstanding people go through when receiving feedback. 💞

MORE ART ADVICE ARTICLES

You can find the index to all Art Advice Articles [here] including:

How to Deal with Art Block

How to Have a Positive Outlook

How to Develop Your Own Style (coming soon!)

etc.

#art advice #art tips #art help #art resources #art learning #artists on tumblr #art #how to #art tutorial #anime art #cartoon #semi realism

[writingquestionsanswered]

how to be more creative?

Three Steps to Being More Creative

Step One: Filling Your Creative Well

You can't create something out of nothing. You need not just the right tools and medium, but also knowledge, ideas, and skills to help you know what to do with those tools and that medium.

Ideas come from the data that's already stored in our brains. That data comes from a variety of places: your day-to-day life, your life experiences, what you hear about others' day-to-day lives and experiences, your experiences with the people and places around you, etc. Any little thing your brain absorbs can become an idea.

So, the number one thing you need to do if you want to be more creative is to fill your head with ideas. I like to call this "filling your creative well," because it's all about filling up your brain with a variety of experiences, stories, and experiences so that you have someplace to draw from when you need ideas.

Guide: Filling Your Creative Well will walk you through how to do that.

Step Two: Learn to Take Creative Risks

Another important part of being more creative is learning to take creative risks. By trying a variety of creative endeavors, even if they're not something you think you'll be good at, and by trying new things in current creative endeavors, you can exercise and expand your creativity. For example, grab a friend or family member and head to one of those "paint and sip" places where they guide you through doing a painting. Alternatively, a lot of craft stores offer free and inexpensive classes that teach you how to do different crafts. You could also go on YouTube and learn how to do something you've never tried before, like origami, crocheting, or calligraphy. Even doing things like building and decorating homes in The Sims, decorating homes or your island in Animal Crossing, or any game where you get to exercise creative choice is a good way to try new things and take creative risks. For writing, try doing some writing prompts or participating in a writing challenge, like a six-word story contest or challenge yourself to turn a favorite song into an actual story (just for fun and personal use.) If you've never written fan-fiction before, try that! Or try writing a story in a genre you've always wanted to write but never have before. Even reading a book, watching a TV show or movie, or playing a game in a new genre can help expand your creative horizons.

Step Three: Let Go of a Need for Perfection

One of the biggest enemies of creativity is a feeling that everything you create needs to be perfect, and this is such an unfortunate thing because most things that require creativity are not things you're ever going to do perfect the first time. So if you can't get past this need to be perfect, you'll never be able to exercise and grow your creativity. So, don't be afraid to paint a bad painting, crochet an uneven scarf, fold a lopsided paper crane, or write a bad story. The point isn't to be perfect or even good. The point is to do it, because even bad art is good practice.

And... if you just wanted to know how to be more creative within a story you're writing, all of the above advice still stands. Fill your creative well, take creative risks, and let go of a need for perfection. ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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!

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[incorrectmahabharatquotes]

Recently I saw this post by @god-has-adhd (I'm not reblogging it because I saw the people they tagged and realised very quickly that it's quite likely that us reblogging the post will be unwelcome, to put it mildly. I'm tagging the OP here anyway since it's a direct response to the post and it seemed only fair to engage in the conversation. I hope they don't mind.) OP urged everyone to watch the video regardless of the political leaning so in the spirit of giving everything a fair shot, we watched it. 'We' here refers to both me and Mod G. There are things we agree on with the guy speaking in the video and there are things we disagree with/think he didn't properly research. However, there is one thing that's most relevant to this blog and to me, personally so I'll be talking primarily about it. This is your long post warning, I'm afraid.

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

"The Real Story of Eklavya"

The context for people who haven't watched the video is that the guy brings up two stories, one of Satyakama Jabali from the Upanishads and that of Eklavya from the Mahabharata. He brings up both these stories in the context of caste, he helpfully titles it and everything.

What I found interesting is that he frames himself talking about the story with the words "The real story of Eklavya". If you know even the basics of storytelling or filmmaking, you know that this is quite important. This implies that you, the viewer, do not know the real story and the one you know is either incomplete or false.

He begins, in a memorable instance, by asking ChatGPT for a summary to grasp the popular interpretation of the story of Eklavya and Drona. I have THOUGHTS about using a machine learning tool that is trained on data that is infamously biased and lacking when it comes to anything that isn't American, but that would be digressing from the point. ChatGPT provides him a summary that mentions that Eklavya was denied Drona's tutelage because he was of a lower caste. After this, the guy proceeds to recite the lines where Eklavya is mentioned in the Adi parva of the Sanskrit Mahabharat that we refer to as Vyasa's Mahabharat. He expresses surprise at how Eklavya is introduced as being the son of the "king" of the nishads (I think leader is a better word that should've been used but the Sanskrit text has a notorious habit of having just really questionable ways of referring to people, if you've read it you know.) Which is found HILARIOUS. Bro, what do you mean you're surprised? This is COMMON knowledge, I fear.

He mentions how being the son of the nishaad's leader/king effectively puts him on the same level as Arjun and that they're both princes. He says that this means Eklavya isn't shudra or dalit (there is a word that's curiously absent here that I'll mention in a bit.) Now, this one of those parts where the choice information he presents the viewer with is bizarre. Since I promised I'll give it a fair shot, I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt and assume this is a fault of him not researching enough and not willful omission. Maybe he just doesn't know. The information he's given here is correct, mostly. What he DOESN'T explain is who the nishads, as a group are. I'll fill in the blanks for him.

The nishad are said to be a group of tribal people who reside in the hills. The text he reads out even has the word "tribal" in it but the guy sort of glosses over it? The nishads are sort of like an aggregate grouping of different tribal populations and not the name of a specific tribe. Kind of. But the mention is still significant. See, the Mahabharata, especially the Sanskrit text, has this Thing™ that it does where it's incredibly rare to find a mention of tribal populations who are said to be human, many of the other mentioned tribal groups are demi-humans or non-humans or just straight up rakshahsas.

Eklavya is said to be the adopted son of Hiranyadhanus, the aforementioned king/leader of the nishads. The Harivamsa Purana part of the Sanskrit text (which is a giant-ass genealogy section where it traces the family line from the start of existence to the birth of Krishna) mentions that biologically he's the son of Devashrava, Vasudev's brother, which makes him Krishna's cousin by blood. Eklavya was abandoned by Devashrava in the forest and Hiranyadhanus found him and raised him as his own.

This makes Eklavya a tribal boy, I would use the word adivasi but people might disagree so I'll just say he has a tribal heritage, not by blood but by his upbringing. The man in the video says that Eklavya isn't a shudra, or dalit or untouchable, which is technically true. There's a missing word here that's doing a lot of heavy lifting for him, though. He says that Eklavya is a Kshatriya, which is DEBATEABLE because in the epic we've seen time and time again that blood doesn't matter and it's the society that does. With this, hopefully not to y'all, new information we might understand how the guy's assertion that Arjuna and Eklavya are on equal footing is shaky at best.

He continues to explain that in the text the reasoning why Drona refuses Eklavya is because he'd already promised he'd make Arjun The Best Archer. Since, he's bound by obligation to the Kurus, he can't afford to let Eklavya outshine his kuru students. The man proceeds to assert that in the text there is no caste-based discrimination happening here. Ergo, he concludes, the story of Eklavya doesn't have a caste aspect to it. If you believe otherwise, you're uneducated and need to learn the Truth and not fall into Propoganda. (I'm trying to be charitable to the guy but his tone when he says the word "propoganda" is dripping with disdain and it's making it very hard for me to remain charitable.) He ends this section this way.

This guy says he's given you all the facts. He's cited his source and he's said the complete truth. He hasn't. In this man's viewpoint, the complete and true Mahabharat is the Sanskrit text. Which, as you know, ISN'T what the entirety of the Mahabharat is and claiming that it is is a narrow perspective to see it. (Which is FUNNY considering this guy has a whole section towards the end of the video about Nuance and it's ironic that he's unwilling to provide the same nuance about the epic to his trusting audience.) Maybe he just isn't insane enough like me to know that it isn't the entire Mahabharat. It's possible.

There is a viewpoint that declares that the Sanskrit Text is the primary source and everything else isn't "canon". There's a SPECIFIC word for it but I will not say it because it's like a boogeyman word on hindublr, at least, so I'll omit the word in this post. This man, from what I've seen, shares this viewpoint.

I disagree.

The Mahabharat, is first and foremost a collection of oral traditions of storytelling that were written down much later. This means that the entire corpus of work that is this mammoth of an epic consists of the thousands of written texts, poetry, plays, songs, folk tales, recently it also includes cinematic adaptations, bedtime stories that your elders might have told you, and lastly, popular culture for better or for worse. This is my viewpoint and I feel it provides for a much better lens to engage with the story. Otherwise, you're denying the story of the rich tradition and heritage it was forged in.

The guy in the video wonders why the story of Eklavya is more popular than Satyakama Jabali and there are a lot of reasons for it. First is that the epic is simply more popular and, in many ways, more fun than the upanishad stories. Second is that the story of Eklavya captured people's minds because it's a story that has strife and the ending is unsatisfactory. Tragedies inspire emotions and connection in a way that comedies do not. There are many more reasons but I'll stop listing them.

It's not a coincidence or happenstance that there are caste dynamics added in the popular interpretation of the story. There are even seeds of this in the Sanskrit text, if this guy is truly only looking at that alone, Eklavya being a tribal kid, the way his physical appearance is described in the text, the way he's stopped from sharing a space with the kuru princes etc. If a variety of people who have historically faced similar things especially when it comes to education and find themselves mirrored in Eklavya? That's not Propaganda, as the guy puts it. It's just how stories naturally evolve and grow. It's people reading between the lines. There's no conspiracy at play. Just people finding something to relate to when they cannot relate to any other character.

I can write essays on how caste and varna show up in the Mahabharat (and I might, if even ONE person asks me for it) but to sum it down, it's a task of examining exactly who and what KIND of people are absent from the story. The Invisible People, if you will. You can count on your fingers how many shudra, dalit and adivasi figures are in the Mahabharat.

Drona is a teacher who fails at being a teacher in this instance. (The Mahabharat in many ways is a story of people failing to do their Duty. There's a certain peacock feather wearing guy who does a whole song and dance about it. It can cover a whole book. It's quite popular. Maybe you've heard of it?) Even if you ignore the caste dynamics reading of it, you cannot deny that the man just sucked at being a teacher in that moment when he denied education to a student, whatever his reasoning may be. He brutally asks for the kid to maim himself and again, even the Sanskrit text describes this action of Drona as cruel. He creates a barrier for Eklavya to stop him from continuing to practice his archery.

It's not surprising that Drona is read as a stand in for an education system that sucks at being an education system that does its job. Again, it's not a conspiracy or propaganda. It's people trying to connect to a story through the prism of their life experiences.

It is not my place to tell people what to believe and what not to believe. It's not the guy in the video's either, despite what he says. People's interpretations are personal to them. What is my place is to remind people that it's wrong to deny people their interpretations. There are versions and interpretations of the story that I hate or dislike but I'm not standing here and telling you they're not the Truth. This is the nuance that Mahabharat requires that the guy lacks. This is also why I believe his sources and research is lacking in this department.

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

Beyond Eklavya

There's a lot of other thoughts and things I want to share about the rest of the video. I'll try to summarise the highlights.

There's a part where he doesn't understand what systemic patriarchy means, exactly, even though he himself gave an EXCELLENT example of it towards the start of the video with Satyakama Jabali's mother's heritage not being considered when it comes to his gotra. It was frustrating because he SAID it. He said the perfect example himself. I almost thought he set it up as a complete circle moment but he hadn't.

I appreciate him bringing a Shaivite perspective because I'm honestly tired of so much Vaishnavism at all times. I love to see different schools of Hinduism actually being practiced and not just one dominating and subsuming the others.

Towards the start of the video, Mod G predicted that the man would go on a "Periyar sucks" rant and I was so delighted that G was so right.

The guy in the video neglects to look at any contemporary research and scholarship about the linguistics and the Aryan migration theory(which he calls the invasion theory, obviously) including the genetic studies.

There's a funny bit where whenever the guy mentions Ambedkar he has to assert that he thinks Ambedkar is anti-hindu. Even when he's praising him. It happened multiple times.

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

TL;DR The man in the video fails to provide his viewers with the full picture about the story of Eklavya even when he claims he is.

- Mod S

ALSO

The structure of his arguments are poor especially in the section where he talks about why the North-South divide came about. Does he not know about the field of linguistics and how root languages are established? Telugu as a language has a 'Dravidian' (he seems to hate that word, even though Dravida is not just the anglo word for the southern parts of India) root because of certain features it has. Notice how North Indian languages use Gender. And then, notice how Southern/central or even Adivasi languages use gender. One main reason why Dravidian languages have been speculated to have another root language different to Sankskrit is the counting systems. Its not wrong to say Telugu has sanskrit INFLUENCE, but again, look at WHICH people within the language group use that type of Telugu (spoiler alert, its the 'proper' upper castes). He dismisses that entirely and makes it a whole issue about how the North South divide happened.

Its very clear to me that he has no intention of representing any of the counter arguments to his premise in an honest manner and is instead single mindedly trying to create more propaganda.

-Mod G

#is this the longest post on this blog #EVER? #possibly #I'm sorry #about being insane about the Mahabharat again #but I would argue that you all signed up for it #when you started following us #eklavya #hindu mythology #mahabharata #Mahabharat #hindublr #I'm tagging specifically because the original post was in the tag #desiblr #not an incorrect quote #mod: s #mod: g

[f4nd0m-fun]

So in a lot of these monster hunting fantasy webcomics, you have these things called monster cores. Imagine, if you will, an AU where the Justice League has always been in a world like this. Maybe an alternate earth, maybe the aliens are from different planes instead of planets, maybe you've got magic as the primary force and yet there's some who still manage to stick almost entirely to tech/magitech (like Bruce). These cores are essentially batteries, and the more powerful the monster the more energy you can draw. Also, I love the idea that, if you put it together right, you can technically recharge it.

Enter, the Phamily. Either they are from this world and the Fentons are monster hunters trying to find the origin place of the monsters, or this isn't their original world and they're trying to open a portal home.

Danny, Ellie, Dan, and Vlad if he's there, have cores. These can be considered batteries just looking at the way ectoplasm is used (imagine how much more potent the cores would be than the globs). Jazz, the parents, and Danny's friends if they're there too are liminal. This could mean that magic considers them part monster despite no cores, or maybe they're considered akin to warlocks or sorcerers, looked down upon but not actively hunted or something. Although the presence of the half monster kids and what seems to be a half monster dad... (yes this is probably a family breakfast ship, sue me if you dare) well, Vlad is gonna be determined to fight off the rumors with whatever he's got, there's no need for his darling Maddie to get worked up about idiots, aside from him and Jack of course. (I also love Vlad x Connie so this could either be Vlad is just an uncle or we get Connie in and call it Family Party or something - Party cause alcohol?)

Also not entirely sure on how I'm writing Bruce and Dick here, I want them to be able to access magic in some way, but sensing magic might be more of an Oracle/Barbara thing, I'm not sure, but also they can't do anything big or flashy with it, it's more tiny stuff which is why they rely on magitech. Also the idea that even if people can sense magic, usually they ignore changes aside from moving away from it if necessary cause usually it means a bunch of monsters are coming through a breach. Honestly, not sure how to run this but, eh.

The below segment is written with Native!JL and Isekai!DP in mind.

=====||=====||=====||======||=====||=====||=====

Bruce had been tinkering with his latest animaga, a monster core whose energy had been threaded through one if his favorite inventions, intended to allow him and his ward flight with the use of monster wings.

"B!"

He tensed but refuses to startle as his ward all but jumped on top of him. "Yes Dick?"

"The magic feels weird!"

Bruce paused, setting his tools down. He knew as a half elf, Richard was sensitive to magic, but wasn't nearly as strong with it as most full elves.

Of course, Bruce had always been considered... disabled in that regard, a full elf who could only feel the energy close to him, though it wasn't public knowledge that he knew of. "That's good to know, Chum, why don't you meditate on it and I'll investigate tonight?"

His ward seemed to understand the intent to leave him behind and started to protest.

"Chum, I was going out alone before you showed up, if the magic really has changed, it'll be safer for me to go out and use the radar."

Dick whined but didn't protest again.

Bruce hoped he wouldn't sneak out this time.

As night began to fall, a family of 9 was gutting a strange metallic ship. Well, the three elder ones were, while the younger ones worked together to scout out the area.

Bruce had just arrived to the location, but chose not to interfere just yet. Batman was the embodiment of night to many, a fearsome predator to others, and some even thought he was a monster himself. Reconnaissance was his strength, as was stealth.

"I don't know, Jazz, the energy here is weird. Muggy almost." His form gave off a soft glow, not unlike that of the whisps, though much larger in body.

The girl with red hair, Jazz he presumed, did not appear impressed. "Like you're the expert on energy. Maybe you should ask Sam when we get back to Mom and dad."

"And Vlad."

"Don't remind me."

The glowing one shuddered. "I know him and our parents have been buddy buddy again but why did he take you find along?"

"Because you're still in training, Daniel."

Both children shrieked.

"I see your core has accepted me into your Fraid."

Bruce froze a bit. Core? Thier energy was certainly strange but not entirely monstrous, hence his inactivity, but the presence of a core presented issues.

"Whatever, Fruitloop. Go back to camp."

"I don't think I will, you're being watched and I can't have my son or daughter being in harm's way."

"Give it a rest, Frootloop, we're not your kids." Despite their attitude, something about their reaction and stance suggested they were worried about being watched as well.

Bruce wondered how they knew about him, perhaps he should have asked Lucius for help with a dampening field to hide the energy of the animaga?

"Don't bother flying away, you'll be surrounded before you can think." Vlad placed a hand on Danny's shoulder.

Before Bruce could react, there was a flash of light that all but burned onto his retinas, but the light was all wrong, a deep black instead of a glowing hue. By the time he was back to his senses, Vlad was gone, and in his place was another strange Whisp. Batman didn't have to turn around to find there were identical ones behind him. Clearly, this was an opponent not to be underestimated.

#danny phantom #batman #dc x dp #dcxdp #isekai au #isekai #non-isekai Justice League #native Justice League #of heroes and monsters au

[raayllum]

Anyway time to talk about the 6x03 poem:

As many others have speculated judging by the map, Captain Skall made her way to Hook named after her, and then "as east she sailed into waters so deadly and cold" in the Frozen Shards, her ship eventually being stuck and meeting her doom there.

With that out of the way, I want to talk about other pieces of info, why this might be the poem for 6x03 specifically, and where I think Skall may fit timeline wise:

"From the isles without name" makes me think of the Independent Isles in between Evenere and Katolis.

"sailing north, she called herself free" makes me feel feral with Callum (and Rayla) doing the same in hopes of freeing Callum from Aaravos' grasp by destroying the prison

"Through forests and flowers, past the uneven towers" clearly symbolizes Katolis, indicating that Skall lived once most of the human kingdoms had been established, and thereby post-Exile/Exodus.

"Skall hungered for glory, she wanted a story / they’d tell it long after she died". Routinely we see a desire for glory / worthiness / power described as hunger ("Hungry for knowledge and power" / "But that small taste left some humans hungry—starved, even—for a better path. An easier path. And thus Elarion became the birthplace of a new form of magic, a shortcut to primal power: dark magic"). This also comes into seeking a legacy.

"So with winter wind’s blowing / she sailed north, forgoing / a man who’d have made her his bride". This is where we see the poem take a more negative slant in a few ways. The first is winter, wind, and north, setting up a future unfortunate turn of events. This is also the first mention of Skall having something else in her life other than adventure and something she had to subsequently abandon. While the end of the poem is much more on her side of feelings, "forgoing" does mean "renouncing; sacrificing or giving up" something that is more positive.

"Alone in the cold, yet ever so bold" again adds to the more negative feeling the poem is building, as boldness is in the contrast with "alone in the cold" that's overall negative and maintaining a bit more of an upkeep. Likewise, we see the return of the wind with an even more negative connotation in wailing in the following stanza: "And oh, winter wailed / as east she sailed / into waters so deadly and cold". We see the return of cold but also the change into things being 'deadly' (although there were still hints of danger earlier, as 'bold' indicates).

"Then came the ice, and trapped in its vise" The cold finally catches up to her, and we see ice return as a form of entrapment (2x06, 3x08, 3x09, 5x04, 5x06, 5x08). Most interestingly, "vise" is a tool with closable jaws for clamping things. Maybe the ice is magical, or the jaw of a great (the dragon we've seen in the trailer) creature?

"And while she found peace / she wished that, at least / she’d told him she loved him, always". While the poem ends on a somewhat bittersweet end (at death but at peace), we do see that Skall died with a final regret to the man she could've wed but left instead.

Or you could say, a last wish.

Either way, the poem paints a rather grim journey: going North didn't hold the same freedom and achievements that Skall hoped for, and instead led to entrapment, separation, and death.

That said: there's a few Rayllum-y things I think we can glean from this poem, for starters:

1) The episode will likely have a strong focus on Callum and Rayla sailing to and/or through the Frozen Sea on whatever ship they're planning to use to get there. This leaves 6x02 "Love, War, and Mushrooms" more open to either explore other plot lines or another pit stop in their journey (like say, the Silvergrove)

2) The poem itself has pretty clear Rayllum parallels, specifically in TDP's continual gender subversion of the women who puts other things above her romantic relationship, even if it's likewise seen as a sacrifice. Rayla left Callum in order to protect him/the world from Viren, even if that meant damaging their relationship, and Skall puts her desire for glory and adventure over presumably a more settled married life at home. (Excuse me while I scream over "forgoing a man who'd have made her his bride.")

3) The poem likewise has some parallels to Rayla's "Dear Callum" letter specifically. There are wishes expressed of the leaving party, a desire to have made feelings more plain that Callum reiterates in 5x04 when they think they're about to die ("I hope you know—" "I know"), and most notably, a parallel to the always mention:

she wished that, at least she’d told him she loved him, always.

But, if it does—if you feel that soft aching—know that that piece of your heart isn’t missing. It’s not missing at all, Callum: I’m carrying it with me! Always. I love you. I love you so much.

4) All this bodes quite well for 6x03 being an episode with a big Rayllum moment in it — perhaps even their Big "You Finally Came Back" Talk — especially since there's not much else to (presumably) happen on a ship if they're just travelling somewhere (and not being pursued this time).

Episode Speculation (a summary / misc thoughts)

Callum and Rayla travelling to the Frozen Sea

Big Talk happens

+ potential love confession / reaffirmation?

They reach the other end of the Frozen Sea

Maybe fight the big dragon from the video game teaser we see with Rayla (like Skall, she has literal hooks = blades) whose guarding or in their way to the Starscraper? Could account for the jaws and maybe the ice

One of them is worried and/or has a moment of thinking the other person is hurt/injured bc of said dragon fight?

Maybe some Aaravos backstory in his lost love (although like I said, I don't think it's Skall exactly — I still think the likeliest names are Elara-adjacent or Kalik)

Episode Title Speculation (in about this order):

The Frozen Sea

By River and Sea

Always (this would be my personal favourite and i would never stop screaming)

#tdp #the dragon prince #analysis series #the english major strikes again #tdp meta #analysis #rayllum #s6 spoilers #tdp spoilers #6x03 #s6 speculation #predictions #+ bonus 'i love you with all of myself. i always will' & 'you know i'm always here for you right?' #it's been a long time since i've sat down to analyze a poem so this is fun

[codingquill]

JavaScript Fundamentals

I have recently completed a course that extensively covered the foundational principles of JavaScript, and I'm here to provide you with a concise overview. This post will enable you to grasp the fundamental concepts without the need to enroll in the course.

Prerequisites: Fundamental HTML Comprehension

Before delving into JavaScript, it is imperative to possess a basic understanding of HTML. Knowledge of CSS, while beneficial, is not mandatory, as it primarily pertains to the visual aspects of web pages.

Manipulating HTML Text with JavaScript

When it comes to modifying text using JavaScript, the innerHTML function is the go-to tool. Let's break down the process step by step:

Initiate the process by selecting the HTML element whose text you intend to modify. This selection can be accomplished by employing various DOM (Document Object Model) element selection methods offered by JavaScript ( I'll talk about them in a second )

Optionally, you can store the selected element in a variable (we'll get into variables shortly).

Employ the innerHTML function to substitute the existing text with your desired content.

Element Selection: IDs or Classes

You have the opportunity to enhance your element selection by assigning either an ID or a class:

Assigning an ID:

To uniquely identify an element, the .getElementById() function is your go-to choice. Here's an example in HTML and JavaScript:

HTML:

<button id="btnSearch">Search</button>

JavaScript:

document.getElementById("btnSearch").innerHTML = "Not working";

This code snippet will alter the text within the button from "Search" to "Not working."

Assigning a Class:

For broader selections of elements, you can assign a class and use the .querySelector() function. Keep in mind that this method can select multiple elements, in contrast to .getElementById(), which typically focuses on a single element and is more commonly used.

Variables

Let's keep it simple: What's a variable? Well, think of it as a container where you can put different things—these things could be numbers, words, characters, or even true/false values. These various types of stuff that you can store in a variable are called DATA TYPES.

Now, some programming languages are pretty strict about mentioning these data types. Take C and C++, for instance; they're what we call "Typed" languages, and they really care about knowing the data type.

But here's where JavaScript stands out: When you create a variable in JavaScript, you don't have to specify its data type or anything like that. JavaScript is pretty laid-back when it comes to data types.

So, how do you make a variable in JavaScript?

There are three main keywords you need to know: var, let, and const.

But if you're just starting out, here's what you need to know :

const: Use this when you want your variable to stay the same, not change. It's like a constant, as the name suggests.

var and let: These are the ones you use when you're planning to change the value stored in the variable as your program runs.

Note that var is rarely used nowadays

Check this out:

let Variable1 = 3; var Variable2 = "This is a string"; const Variable3 = true;

Notice how we can store all sorts of stuff without worrying about declaring their types in JavaScript. It's one of the reasons JavaScript is a popular choice for beginners.

Arrays

Arrays are a basically just a group of variables stored in one container ( A container is what ? a variable , So an array is also just a variable ) , now again since JavaScript is easy with datatypes it is not considered an error to store variables of different datatypeslet

for example :

myArray = [1 , 2, 4 , "Name"];

Objects in JavaScript

Objects play a significant role, especially in the world of OOP : object-oriented programming (which we'll talk about in another post). For now, let's focus on understanding what objects are and how they mirror real-world objects.

In our everyday world, objects possess characteristics or properties. Take a car, for instance; it boasts attributes like its color, speed rate, and make.

So, how do we represent a car in JavaScript? A regular variable won't quite cut it, and neither will an array. The answer lies in using an object.

const Car = { color: "red", speedRate: "200km", make: "Range Rover" };

In this example, we've encapsulated the car's properties within an object called Car. This structure is not only intuitive but also aligns with how real-world objects are conceptualized and represented in JavaScript.

Variable Scope

There are three variable scopes : global scope, local scope, and function scope. Let's break it down in plain terms.

Global Scope: Think of global scope as the wild west of variables. When you declare a variable here, it's like planting a flag that says, "I'm available everywhere in the code!" No need for any special enclosures or curly braces.

Local Scope: Picture local scope as a cozy room with its own rules. When you create a variable inside a pair of curly braces, like this:

//Not here { const Variable1 = true; //Variable1 can only be used here } //Neither here

Variable1 becomes a room-bound secret. You can't use it anywhere else in the code

Function Scope: When you declare a variable inside a function (don't worry, we'll cover functions soon), it's a member of an exclusive group. This means you can only name-drop it within that function. .

So, variable scope is all about where you place your variables and where they're allowed to be used.

Adding in user input

To capture user input in JavaScript, you can use various methods and techniques depending on the context, such as web forms, text fields, or command-line interfaces.We’ll only talk for now about HTML forms

HTML Forms:

You can create HTML forms using the &lt;;form> element and capture user input using various input elements like text fields, radio buttons, checkboxes, and more.

JavaScript can then be used to access and process the user's input.

Functions in JavaScript

Think of a function as a helpful individual with a specific task. Whenever you need that task performed in your code, you simply call upon this capable "person" to get the job done.

Declaring a Function: Declaring a function is straightforward. You define it like this:

function functionName() { // The code that defines what the function does goes here }

Then, when you need the function to carry out its task, you call it by name:

functionName();

Using Functions in HTML: Functions are often used in HTML to handle events. But what exactly is an event? It's when a user interacts with something on a web page, like clicking a button, following a link, or interacting with an image.

Event Handling: JavaScript helps us determine what should happen when a user interacts with elements on a webpage. Here's how you might use it:

HTML:

<button onclick="FunctionName()" id="btnEvent">Click me</button>

JavaScript:

function FunctionName() { var toHandle = document.getElementById("btnEvent"); // Once I've identified my button, I can specify how to handle the click event here }

In this example, when the user clicks the "Click me" button, the JavaScript function FunctionName() is called, and you can specify how to handle that event within the function.

Arrow functions : is a type of functions that was introduced in ES6, you can read more about it in the link below

If Statements

These simple constructs come into play in your code, no matter how advanced your projects become.

If Statements Demystified: Let's break it down. "If" is precisely what it sounds like: if something holds true, then do something. You define a condition within parentheses, and if that condition evaluates to true, the code enclosed in curly braces executes.

If statements are your go-to tool for handling various scenarios, including error management, addressing specific cases, and more.

Writing an If Statement:

if (Variable === "help") { console.log("Send help"); // The console.log() function outputs information to the console }

In this example, if the condition inside the parentheses (in this case, checking if the Variable is equal to "help") is true, the code within the curly braces gets executed.

Else and Else If Statements

Else: When the "if" condition is not met, the "else" part kicks in. It serves as a safety net, ensuring your program doesn't break and allowing you to specify what should happen in such cases.

Else If: Now, what if you need to check for a particular condition within a series of possibilities? That's where "else if" steps in. It allows you to examine and handle specific cases that require unique treatment.

Styling Elements with JavaScript

This is the beginner-friendly approach to changing the style of elements in JavaScript. It involves selecting an element using its ID or class, then making use of the .style.property method to set the desired styling property.

Example:

Let's say you have an HTML button with the ID "myButton," and you want to change its background color to red using JavaScript. Here's how you can do it:

HTML: <button id="myButton">Click me</button>

JavaScript:

// Select the button element by its ID const buttonElement = document.getElementById("myButton"); // Change the background color property buttonElement.style.backgroundColor = "red";

In this example, we first select the button element by its ID using document.getElementById("myButton"). Then, we use .style.backgroundColor to set the background color property of the button to "red." This straightforward approach allows you to dynamically change the style of HTML elements using JavaScript.

#studyblr #code #codeblr #css #html #javascript #java development company #python #study #progblr #programming #studying #comp sci #web design #web developers #web development #website design #ui ux design #reactjs #webdev #website #tech

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Never mentioned this and this might sound insane but I'm starting to think this so let me know:

I believe that Miguel didn't mean THIS as an offensive move.

I think THIS happens with every Spider-person intro.

Spider Society is Cultish - but not in the way you may think.

[A MEDIUM HYPOTHESIS post about what the fuck was up with that huge mob that no one reacted to at all.]

So a lot of people have mentioned in the past about these hundreds of people surrounding Miles.

Miguel gives Miles the standard intro - explaining the multiverse and it's connections.

He asks Lyla to do 'the thing' - and none of the information is tailored to Miles. So we know this presentation is a routine thing. The 'explainy' thing Miguel shows to recruits in general.

Then at the end, suddenly 100s of Spider-people come from seemingly nowhere, surrounding Miles. They don't move or speak. But for some reason they're all there and they came from nowhere.

Originally I believed this was to intimidate or trap Miles. But then I realized

Hobie isn't reacting.

To me, Hobie is more reliable, knowledgeable, and trustworthy character in the scene.

We can assume he wasn't in the conversation with Peter and Gwen - so if this was a planned, sudden, offensive move, he wouldn't know about it.

If Miguel suddenly had people surround Miles without explanation, as an offensive move,

I feel like Hobie would have reacted.

At this point we've established in this moment, Hobie's #1 goal is keeping Miles safe. No matter what.

So 100s of Spider-people surround them in a group - but when we look at him, he's not surprised. He's still relaxed, his focus still on Miguel and not the new additions in the room.

He doesn't even really look at the other people. He doesn't wonder where they've come from and he isn't confronting Miguel for summoning them.

But instead, he doesn't. Nobody reacts. He lets the scene play out.

If this was actually an offensive move:

Then why is Hobie not reacting? Why is Gwen not surprised or nervous?

From what we know of his character, I feel like if this were a sudden offensive move, Hobie would NOT have let Miles handle the situation himself.

Hobie is down for fighting hundreds of people - if anything he's the only Spiderman talented at taking down large battalions of armed people (hoards of cops).

But instead he hangs back, letting Miles handle the situation, because he doesn't consider the hundreds of people a threat (until after Miles breaks out).

So why are they here? And why isn't Hobie reacting/alarmed/angry?

Why is everyone so calm about this mob?

Because I think they're supposed to be there. I think it's apart of the intro speech.

I know that may sound a little stupid. But.. in the context of what Miguel is trying to actually do, I believe it. And arguably it makes the whole thing worse.

I believe the reason Hobie didn't react is because - it happened to him. That's what they do.

They give you the speech about the multiverse, they show you all the nodes, and the corresponding tragedies -

And then they bring a group of Spider-people to surround and comfort you.

That's fucking creepy.

As a new recruit it would be an effective tool at assimilation.

To have everything explained to you, to be shown your own tragedies and trauma, to be shown others tragedies and trauma -

And then have those people come from the wings at the very end. To hug you and say 'We understand you! You're one of us now!'

Like an initiation. To bring you to your most vulnerable emotionally - and then present you with people who can 'understand'.

Is it bizarre? Yes. But it's it what cults do.... Yeah.

One of the mainstays and foundations of cults are rituals - initiations, welcomings, and inductions.

And closeness between members, a sense of community and vulnerability is one of the first things cults seek to sow within new recruits.

I think Hobie isn't reacting, because it's happened to him before.

I believed that like Miles, Hobie was shown the explainy' thingy, Miguel explained 'Everything' to him, and then at the end, Miguel brought in dozens of people to offer comfort - or to share their stories.

Hobie, Gwen, and Peter were only there because they know Miles/were already with him.

But for someone like Gwen, or a reason recruit, they'd be given this explainer alone most likely. Just them, Miguel, Lyla, and maybe Jess.

So it kinda makes sense that Miguel would have other people come in at the end to vouch for him/share their experiences.

Now, we know Hobie. When Miguel is showing Hobie's past events, Hobie minimizes it and tries to brush it off. Hobie would probably see these people his time around and be like 'pisss offffffff'

But!! I will say, this crowd could also be used for a double purpose - which I think Miguel would know. But from his reaction, no one has tried running before. He seemed genuinely surprised. So I think it's primary function is comfort/initiation ritual.

Do I think Miguel is purposely doing this to manipulate recruits?

Nah.

I don't think he's doing it with the intention of brainwashing. Miguel believes he's being completely reasonable, so brainwashing wouldn't be necessary in his eyes.

Miguel thinks if he can explain it enough, they'll understand (that is, until he accidentally let it slip about the two days thing and even then he continues trying to explain it further).

I think he does this with the intention of building comradery in a fast way, not understanding that just because HE is fine sharing his trauma and showing it to other people over and over again, doesn't mean everyone else does.

He show people a hologram of his daughter dying in his arms then looks at you like

UMMM SIR???? I JUST GOT HERE. IDEK YOU. IMAGINE HOBIE REACTING TO THAT

Miguel genuinely doesn't understand that's not how you get over shit.

He doesn't understand that because HE likes to overshare and show you his daughter dying (even though reliving said trauma takes a visible toll on him)

- doesn't mean everyone wants to see that, or talk about that, then hug all Kumbaya.

[Miguel be like ayo u mind if I experienced a deep sense of derealization as I relive one of the worst moments in my entire life in 3rd person then continue like everything is okay iight cool]

I don't think he's doing it maliciously. I think as a traumatized person himself he doesn't understand that... What he's doing isn't therapeutic as he thinks it is.

But because in his eyes, doing this would help the recruit understand and bring people together, he'd do it.

(In my eyes).

But that's still cultish. VERY CULTISH.

Having 100s of strangers surround a teen to intimidate them is weird.

Having 100s of strangers surround a teen to offer them comfort at their most vunerable in an attempt to get them to sympathize with your cause and willfully give up their own free choice is WEIRDER.

THAT'S WEIRD AS FUCK. AND CULTS DO THAT.

that makes me MAD UNCOMFORTABLE thinking about it.

'Sorry ur dad is gonna die. Group hug?'

Miguel..... Stop employing teenagers. Matter of fact stop talking to teens. Stop talking to other people's kids all together wtf really wtf

But that's just a hypothesis. And this is one I'm very curious and still thinking about really.

But I always questioned the same things - Where did they come from? Why is no one reacting? Why is HOBIE not reacting? How did they know to be there? What was Miguel trying to do?

I feel like the answer 'They're there to scare Miles,' left me with more questions like

'Why is no one reacting? Why is HOBIE in specific, not reacting? Or rather, why is he not visibly surprised?'

But my hypothesis is that

They were there since he started the explainer thingy. There's a door for them to get in, because this is routine. They probably get paged every time he does the intro.

No one is reacting because this is routine. Gwen and Hobie have both had this happen to them, and the crowd is there for a purpose of some sort. Either crowd control, comfort, initiation, or all three.

But what do you think? I'm still baking this one in the dome so to speak.

Why do you think Hobie and Gwen didn't react? What do you think the crowd is there for/how did they get in?

Is this copium, or are you picking up what I'm putting down cause I am SO CURIOUS about this I've ALWAYS QUESTIONED WHY THE HELL WHERE THEY THERE AND IF THIS IS A THREAT WHY ISN'T HOBIE KICKING MIGUEL'S ASS

#spiderman #atsv #marvel #no proofread ever normalize not listening to yourself #spider man #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spider punk #peter parker #Gwen Stacy #peter b. parker #peter b #Miles morales #spiderpunk #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #spiderman2099 #spiderman 2099