Some Of You Might Find This Controversial, But I Recently Decided To Change The Love Interest Of My Story

Some Things To Consider When Writing Weapons Training

Your character will hurt. Even if they don't get hit, it can be exhausting training, especially if they're just starting. It can be a weird set of muscles to use, and things like their shoulders will hurt if they do what a lot of people do and tense up while holding the weapon.

They will drop the weapon. There are a lot of reasons why people drop weapons--because the weapon is awkward to hold or the person isn't used to holding them, because it gets hit out of the person's hand, because their own hand gets hit, etc--but it happens.

People get hit by accident all the time--including the person holding the weapon. When I've done jō practice, I consider it a success if I don't hit myself with it while I'm practicing. And even when doing controlled sparring or paired katas, people still end up hitting each other, especially on places like the hand.

Practice weapons still hurt. Depending on what you're doing, they're usually made of either wood or rubber rather than metal, but just because they're not metal, it doesn't mean they don't hurt. Bruises are really standard, especially if you're practicing something like knife fighting where you're doing a lot of hand-to-hand blocking.

The goal of training is not to hurt your opponent. People who (intentionally or through carelessness) hurt their sparring partners are bad at training and will probably be kicked out of it or at least get a very strong talking to. Good training will also teach them how to train without getting hurt and strongly discourage doing things in a dangerous way.

What they wear will differ widely depending on the discipline. HEMA and fencing tend to have a fair amount of protective gear (helmet, etc.), as does kendo, while disciplines like aikidō, iaidō, and jūjutsu are more likely to have people wearing a gi or hakama. This will impact how they feel about hitting opponents--it's always riskier to hit someone in a place with no protective gear.

Some weapons' training is primarily defensive, and some is primarily offensive, and some is both. Some training (knife defense, gun defense) is primarily about disarming someone with one of those weapons, where the actual use of the weapon is just as a training tool. In those cases, the specifics of the attack are usually emphasized less than the specifics of the defense. HEMA and fencing are much more offense-focused, with the goal being more about landing a hit. In forms like that (or in a similar fictional form), you'll see the mentality that the best defense is a good offense, as opposed to the mentality that the best defense is a good defense (or the best defense is running away).

Knowing one form of weapons training is (often) helpful in learning another. Even while they differ a fair amount, different weapons styles can often use similar patterns in terms of strikes, blocks, and steps. Part of this is that there are only so many useful places to hit a person and only so many ways to step. There are other things that are fairly universal as well, like awareness of your blade and your opponent's blade, awareness of your body, and awareness of relative distance.

Frankly some of you should be hornier over weirder shit. The fear of being too genuine is the enemy of art. Be a bit of a pervert. It's good for the health. Doesn't have to be a sexual thing just own up to being a bit obsessed in some cringe shit it's fine.

heyy can we do a sexy roleplay where im a prince from a fallen kingdom and youre the powerful warrior who has taken me for their own pleasure. yes? yipeeee ok so before we start first here's a google doc with the whole history of the fictional land we're both from and the intricate geopolitical workings of the- oh yeah and here's a supplementary doc on the agriculture and trade routes of said fictional land and stuff and yes this is important. the dirty talk has to be lore accurate

send a heart and a ship for a brief snippet!

❤️ first kiss / realization

🧡 kissing in bed / lazy kiss / cuddling

💛 reunion kiss / relief

💚 true love's kiss / magic kiss / healed

💙 drunken kiss / tipsy

💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss

💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft

💖 rough kiss / hot and heavy / making out

💕 kissing somewhere other than lips

💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss

🤎 multiple kisses / kisses all over / kiss after kiss

🤍 kiss at the wedding / milestone

🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation

Hey! Last night this blogged ticked over the 100 follower count without me noticing. Das so cool.

kind of obsessed with the idea of the rest of the gaang leaving Toph and Zuko to watch over some cooking food and when they come back its burned and Katara starts fuming but Toph and Zuko are like “we’ve never stepped inside a kitchen in our lives and only have one eye between us, if anything it’s your fault”

When you can make it out in time to write them shower thoughts can actually be life changing

The Sissy Strikes Back

I’ve lost faith in the saying “You’re only as old as you think you are” ever since I got old. It is a saying with a fine heritage. It goes right back to the idea of the Power of Positive Thinking, which is so strong in America because it fits in so well with the Power of Commercial Advertising and with the Power of Wishful Thinking aka the American Dream. It is the bright side of Puritanism: What you deserve is what you get. (Never mind just now about the dark side.) Good things come to good people and youth will last forever for the young in heart. Yup. There is a whole lot of power in positive thinking. It is the great placebo effect. In many cases, even dire cases, it works. I think most old people know that, and many of us try to keep our thinking on the positive side as a matter of self-preservation, as well as dignity, the wish not to end with a prolonged whimper. It can be very hard to believe that one is actually 80 years old, but as they say, you’d better believe it. I’ve known clear-headed, clear-hearted people in their nineties. They didn’t think they were young. They knew, with a patient, canny clarity, how old they were. If I’m 90 and believe I’m 45, I’m headed for a very bad time trying to get out of the bathtub. Even if I’m 70 and think I’m 40, I’m fooling myself to the extent of almost certainly acting like an awful fool. Actually, I’ve never heard anybody over 70 say that you’re only as old as you think you are. Younger people say it to themselves or each other as an encouragement. When they say it to somebody who actually is old, they don’t realize how stupid it is, and how cruel it may be. At least there isn’t a poster of it.

But there is a poster of “Old age is not for sissies”—maybe it’s where the saying came from. A man and a woman in their seventies. As I remember it, they both have what the air force used to call the Look of Eagles, and are wearing very tight-fitting minimal clothing, and are altogether very fit. Their pose suggests that they’ve just run a marathon and aren’t breathing hard while they relax by lifting 16-pound barbells. Look at us, they say. Old age is not for sissies. Look at me, I snarl at them. I can’t run, I can’t lift barbells, and the thought of me in tight-fitting minimal clothing is appalling in all ways. I am a sissy. I always was. Who are you jocks to say old age isn’t for me? Old age is for anybody who gets there. Warriors get old; sissies get old. In fact it’s likely that more sissies than warriors get old. Old age is for the healthy, the strong, the tough, the intrepid, the sick, the weak, the cowardly, the incompetent. People who run 10 miles every morning before breakfast and people who live in a wheelchair. People who work the London Times crossword in ink in 10 minutes and people who can’t quite remember who the president is just now. Old age is less a matter of fitness or courage than of luck equals longevity. The leafy greens and the workouts may well help that old age to be healthy, but unfair as it may be, nothing guarantees health to the old. Bodies wear out after a certain amount of mileage despite the most careful maintenance. No matter what you eat and how grand your abs and blabs are, still your bones can let you down, your heart can get tired of its incredible nonstop lifelong athletic performance, and there’s all that wiring and stuff inside that can begin to short-circuit. If you did hard physical labor all your life and didn’t really have the chance to spend a lot of time in gyms, if you ate mostly junk food because it’s all you knew about and all you could afford in time and money, if you haven’t got a doctor because you can’t buy the insurance that stands between you and the doctors and the medicines you need, you may arrive at old age in rather bad shape. Or if you just run into some bad luck along the way, accidents, illnesses, it’s the same. You won’t be running marathons and lifting weights. You may have trouble getting up the stairs. You may have trouble just getting out of bed. You may have trouble getting used to hurting all the time. And it isn’t likely to get better as the years go on. The compensations of getting old, such as they are, aren’t in the field of athletic prowess. I think that’s why the saying and the poster annoy me so much. They’re not only insulting to sissies, they’re beside the point. I’d like a poster showing two old people with stooped backs and arthritic hands and time-worn faces sitting talking, deep, deep in conversation. And the slogan would be: Old Age Is Not for the Young.

No Time to Spare: Thinking About What Matters - Ursula K. Le Guin

LUSH Series - Gouache by Madeleine Bellwoar

Going into Space

SO I GUESS THEY ARE GOING INTO DAMN SPACE AGAIN SOON. A TWO AND A HALF BILLION DOLLAR CAMPING TRIP. OH SURE THESE THREE HAVE ACCOMPLISHED MUCH IN THEIR LIVES. THEY BOY SCOUTING WILL FINALLY COME INTO A REAL TEST. WHY DON'T THEY HOVER THEIR SPACECRAFT OVER THE RESERVATIONS OR HOVER THEIR SCREAMING STEEL OVER THE GHETTOS AND SEE BUT I GUESS YOU CANNOT SEE THE POVERTY FROM 28 MILES ABOVE THE EARTH.

Rising Voices: Writings of Young Native Americans, Francis Becenti, edited by Arlene Hirschfelder and Beverly R. Singer.