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#''don't tell me what to do!'' directed nowhere in particular
sysig · 3 months
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Experimentation (Patreon)
#Doodles#UT#Handplates#Sans#Papyrus#Continuing the theme of memories and what Gaster ruined for them haha#He doesn't even have to be here and he's making their lives harder! Par for the course#Lots of things have the potential to trigger their memories - a familiar smell or a food they recognize#But there were so many things they never experienced and sifting between them is very difficult!#Especially considering most of what they ''remember'' is actually just their Reaction to Something - like the smoke smell making them tense#Sans here getting a Reaction for sure tho - being questioned and experimented on does Not feel good#It's Papyrus doing it so that's one thing but even still - not having fun with this#Papyrus is so curious! He wants to know! He always seems to be a bit left out on finding things out haha#Sans being the more science-minded of the two probably has an impact there - ask your brother he'll help figure it out#Unless he really doesn't want to because it feels weird please stop (lol)#Still tho being asked to eat things as an experiment? ''oh hey bro maybe going to grillby's will remind me of something'' ''SANS'' lol#Papyrus didn't mean anything by continuing to ask questions he's just curious!#Sans goes to write down the results and then feels Even Worse so scribbles them out#''don't tell me what to do!'' directed nowhere in particular#Tries really hard to put it out of him mind A Lot#This remembering business sure is uncomfortable!#Look what you did Gaster you took a perfectly fun data-gathering session and turned it into something they'll need therapy for!
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frangipani-wanderlust · 4 months
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How To Call 911
So most of my followers know now that I started working last May as a 911 dispatcher. Super proud of myself. And now that I am starting (very much still starting) to settle in a bit, I want to offer some tips on how to call 911. So, hold on to your hats.
(no-color version if the yellow text isn't rendering on your screen correctly)
When in doubt, call 911. Don't take this as me encouraging you to jump at shadows. Your neighbors' loud party is not an emergency, google the local non-emergency line and call that. Neither is the dry cleaning not giving you your clothes (I actually got this call on our 911 line). Nor is the fact that you saw a fox inside city limits (also something a real human called 911 about). But if you see a situation unfolding and you think "this seems dangerous, maybe this is 911-worthy" then it's 911-worthy. Don't hesitate. Call.
If you call 911 and you are freaking out, that's okay. If you're in a crisis, you may not remember a single tip I'm about to give you. We are trained for that, we can handle it, just do the best you can. It's not the end of the world to have a hysterical or frightened caller, and these are tips, not rules.
Location, location, location. We can't send you help if we have nowhere to send it to. Ideally, know the address. Failing that, know the name of a business or a church or an intersection. It is not cheating if you read this off a sign. There isn't a set of invisible rules that says you have to have your exact GPS coordinates memorized. Be prepared to describe the location somehow. That way, if our connection drops and that's all you can tell me, I can still send some police out to come find out what's going on and they can ask for medics or firefighters or whatever if needed. But we absolutely must know where to send assistance, it is the first thing we're going to ask.
Location again, but with a twist. The first thing our office says for emergencies is, "911, what is the address of the emergency?" If a building is on fire, tell us where the fire is. If your neighbors are being robbed at gunpoint across the street, give us their address. If you witnessed a car accident, tell us where the accident happened. The location of the emergency isn't necessarily the location where you are. Don't send police and fire to your office building if the wreck is on the freeway.
Answer the questions that you are asked. If the calltaker asks "Is the patient breathing?" don't start in about the seizure they just had (if they aren't breathing, the seizure they just had is not the biggest problem). If the calltaker asks, "Which way did the man you saw go when they ran?" don't tell them about how they broke down your door (if they are running away, knowing they broke your door down does not help the police know which direction to start looking). The particular question you are asked is being asked for a reason, and that reason is not frivolous but in an emergency, we aren't going to stop and explain everything.
Do not launch into a speech. If you're asked a yes/no question, yes or no is all the answer you should give. Your impulse will be to explain the yes or the no because more information is better than not enough, but overexplaining is its own problem. Now, we are hired for good typist skills, and are encouraged to get better and faster, but infodumping means things can get missed. The calltaker is going to have some information they're going to ask for by protocol and probably the option to drill down on some of it if clarification is needed. If you spend five paragraphs explaining your last answer, it delays getting other pertinent information.
Do not launch into a speech, part the second. You don't call 911 for things that happened last week, or even yesterday. Tell me the emergency that is happening right now. Ideally in one sentence. If someone is having a medical issue, and you call 911 about it, when the calltaker asks exactly what happened, do not tell them about how the patient had a surgery 5-and-a-half weeks ago. You called 911. What is the emergency that is happening right now. Don't be telling me about their surgery when the problem you called about is a broken leg. Yes, the surgery may have led to generalized loss of balance that has yet to return which caused the patient to fall which caused them to break their leg. Understood. But you didn't call because of all of that. You called because of the broken leg. Apply this principle to all emergencies.
Don't launch into a speech, part the third. When asked a specific and direct question, do not give an explanation instead of an answer. If the calltaker asks you "Is the weird person on the side of the road actually in the lanes of traffic?" do not explain to them how it's a very narrow roadway (see parenthesis for the story here). Aside from the fact that we're not asking these questions to be funny (see part the second), there's also the fact that now you are coming over as suspicious as hell. If I asked "how did that person on Facebook know what this supposedly missing kid is wearing and where he's going to be at 3:00 today?" and you say "well Facebook is a good way to spread information" I am now extremely suspicious of you.
(Also an actual call I have taken. The man was a totally ordinary guy out for a walk to the store, but this blue collar man walked through a Rich Person Neighborhood™ and according to Lady Catherine De Bourgh on the phone with me, that merited a call to the police. When I asked her if he was actually in the lanes of traffic [traffic hazard call type] versus not [suspicious person call type, on a technicality but technically...], she tried explaining three times that the road was narrow before she finally got the message that I was not going to stop asking until she told me the actual answer and answered "Well, I suppose so, yes." At this point, because she'd been so reluctant to answer me, I no longer believed the man actually was in the lanes of traffic and to this day believe that she lied to try and manipulate the police into a stronger-level response than was actually warranted. Because determining whether she was lying for sure is beyond the scope of my job, I put down what she said, but I didn't believe then and still don't believe now, that she told the truth. The totally ordinary and probably very nice guy was not arrested or hassled at all and was instead given a courtesy ride to the store.)
Be prepared to describe relevant people, maybe including yourself, and that includes race. If you have an asthma attack at a football game, the medics need to know how to find you in a crowd. If you are a black woman, that's gonna rule out everyone who isn't that. If you are a black woman wearing a yellow shirt, blue jeans, and a blue bandana over your hair, that excludes nearly everybody and when the medics arrive, they'll know exactly who to look for. Most of the time, someone's race isn't relevant information. When describing someone to emergency services, it absolutely is and it is not racist to accurately describe the relevant person or people.
There are more tips in the world, and I may come back to this post and add them as they occur to me. In the meantime, please enjoy this short treatise on how to call 911.
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gerryrigged · 5 months
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dicktim - La Beau Au Bois Dormant
idea gripping my tired brain by the throat about Tim being struck by some kind of sleeping beauty poison or spell and falling comatose.
Except the solution is not True Love's Kiss but sending someone inside his soul to battle the dragon that will manifest from his inner demons to keep him imprisoned, forever.
The highest chance for success necessitates sending in the one person that the sleeper trusts most - often their love, hence the poison/spell's reputation, but not always.
And almost everyone immediately turns to Dick, like in you go, Nightwing, what are you waiting for.
Which Dick. Doesn't know how to react to, because. God he would give anything to be that person for Tim again. But he knows that he broke something between them when he stripped away Robin.
They've moved past it, they're...fine. But Dick knows. It's not the same. They aren't the same.
He can't help Tim with this. Tim probably wouldn't even want him to try. And that kills him, but he won't sabotage Tim's only shot to wake up because of his own desperate wish to still be the one Tim turns to first. His north star.
There's a ticking-clock time limit before Tim won't be able to wake up at all. They don't have any time to lose.
He looks away from everyone's expectant, demanding stares.
"Call Superboy," he says, voice scraped raw from his throat. "Or Kid Flash. They'll get here in time."
He can't stand the disappointment on Bruce's face. It makes helpless anger boil hot and toxic in his belly. Bruce wasn't here for everything that happened. He doesn't know.
(Dick's never told him. How badly he fucked up.)
"Wait, not his boyfriend?'" Steph says, raised eyebrows and gesticulating at nowhere in particular and Dick's churning thoughts sputter and die into frozen blankness. Boyfriend?
Babs shakes her head on the Batcomputer's view screen.
"They're not at that level of trust yet. They haven't even been dating that long, Tim definitely hasn't told him about - " she twirls a finger, indicating all of them. Red Robin on the medical bed, cowl pushed down and cape pooled around him. The Cave, vaulting overhead. " - all of this. And he won't thank us for doing it for him."
Tim...has a boyfriend?
Wow. His little brother used to always want his advice on love. Life. Everything. If he doesn't trust Dick enough anymore to tell him even that much... Well. It just proves definitively that Dick isn't the right person for this job.
(It hurts like Dick's vital organs are being crushed in a massive fist.)
"Time is ticking," Jason Blood says quietly, looking down at the open face of his pocket watch. At his feet, a circle of lit candles awaits someone to sit down inside and sink into an enchanted meditation.
"Father, clearly it should be you," Damian says, tapping his foot rapidly. His arms are crossed tightly under his cape in a way that he probably means to come across as scornful, rather than apprehensive. "Or Pennyworth, even."
Bruce shakes his head, troubled. "No. I don't think so. Cassie...?"
"No," Cass responds calmly. "Not me." She seems untroubled by her own denial, even though she and Tim have been thick as thieves ever since she returned to Gotham.
She's looking at Dick. She hasn't looked away from Dick this whole time, or let go of Tim's hand, folded in hers protectively, over his heart.
"It's still you, big brother," she says. Gentle and direct and devastating. "Go. Bring him back."
Not so long ago, Tim trusted Dick to catch him when he fell.
Or, he was depressed and passively suicidal and telling Dick what he wanted to hear. Maybe he even believed it, after the fact.
In the end, it doesn't matter. He's Dick's brother. Dick will always, always be there to catch him, whether Tim trusts him to or not.
Dick goes.
He faces Tim, sinks into lotus inside the ring of flickering little flames, and closes his eyes, heart in his throat.
He opens his eyes. A vast, jagged bramble forest looms dark above him. Far in the distance, he can just make out a spindly tower piercing the sky, a flickering little light shining at the top.
He hacks his way through the biting brambles of Tim's resentments, leaving blood and sorrows dripping from the thorns in his wake.
He fights the sly, sinuous dragon of Tim's despair, singing with every breath that he can spare, so that Tim might hear him and know he's not alone.
He wishes he could remember happy songs, bright and lively songs - wishes he could be the light in the darkness that Tim deserves, that he looked up to and chased after and for some reason tried to model himself upon, even when he was already so very bright himself.
But any song is better than none to pierce the lonely vault of silence, so he sings of pain, of loss, of faith and faithlessness. Of holding on past the point of breaking. He sings of two hands open and outstretched, waiting to be clasped and held.
When his voice falters, when adamant scales break his sword and claws shatter his shield, he throws himself at the winged serpent, letting it coil about him and grappling it in turn. Fangs strike at him again and again, piercing flesh and armor both, before he winds his arms around its jaws and holds them shut.
It hisses through clenched teeth about failures, his and Tim's both. He holds its jaws shut, and sings of two ships tossed in a maelstrom, anchored to each other, weathering the storm.
It hisses, venom dripping from its furious curled lips, about abandonment and betrayal. He holds its jaws shut, and sings about two robins, flying with an olive branch held aloft between them.
It hisses to him of ice unending, frozen hearts, shattered trust. He holds its jaws shut, and sings about the steady radiating warmth of a hearth, of a hug, of a new dawn. Of new beginnings.
He rests his forehead on the dragon's growling snout, and sings, "Come home with me. Come home to me. Tim, I love you. Tim, Tim, Tim."
The beast shudders and shivers. And starts to break apart.
The crumbling wings buffet and beat at Dick even as they begin to crack and collapse. Dick lowers his head and holds on tighter.
The massive coiled tail squeezes around Dick convulsively, thrashing and withering. Dick's ribs crack, but he holds on tighter.
Scales etched with Tim's regrets flake off and fall away, like a tree shedding razor edged leaves in autumn. Dick closes his eyes as they kiss and cut his already tattered skin, but just holds on tighter.
Eventually, the violent disintegration comes to an end, and all goes still and quiet.
Save for a familiar shape shaking and weeping in Dick's arms.
Dick opens his eyes, blinking away sweat and blood just to be sure. But yes. It's him. Blue eyes reddened with tears, staring in horror at the ragged torn-up mess of his older brother, come to rescue him.
"Tim," Dick sighs, bones papier-mâché from relief. And exhaustion. "Timmy. Thank god."
"Dick," Tim cries out, gripping him tightly in distress. He lets go immediately at Dick's wince, and tries to pull away. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, I'm - your wounds, we have to - "
Dick doesn't let him move an inch. "Shhhhhh," he breathes. "It's a dream, don't worry about it." Tim wriggles in protest at first, determinedly attempting to staunch some of the heavier bleeding, but Dick just holds him tighter. "Please, Timmy," he begs. "Please. Just let me."
Tim's breath hitches, then he wraps his arms around Dick just as hard as Dick is squeezing him, strong and anchoring. Dick's own breath shudders on the edge of a whine, and he buries his nose in Tim's hair.
-----
"Missed you," he whispers hoarsely, several minutes later.
Tim lifts his face from where he's been leaking a silent wet spot into Dick's collarbone.
"Missed you, too," he whispers back, as if they're sharing secrets and might be overheard.
Then Tim hesitates, before setting his mouth firmly. He meets Dick's gaze, and there's a fierce light in his still reddened eyes that transfixes Dick. He almost lost this. He almost lost Tim - so many times, more than he probably even knows about. He never wants to look away.
"And I love you, too, you know. That's never changed. It never will change." His brow is furrowed intently, gaze searching Dick's, like he can find and burn away any hint of doubt or disbelief.
"I know," Dick murmurs, warm down to his battered toes. Tim's alive. Tim's going to wake up, and keep living. Tim loves him, and forgives him, and still trusts him more than anyone else. "I do know. I - "
He releases one arm from its death grip, because he can no longer resist the urge to cup Tim's face, stroke a thumb across his cheek. Tim closes his eyes briefly as he covers Dick's hand with his, leaning into it, brows still drawn together. Like he's in pain, even though all the dings and scratches are on Dick, not him.
Dick's heart seizes.
He dips down, to the impossibly inviting bow of Tim's mouth, and kisses him. At Tim's small, quiet gasp, he gentles further, catching Tim's lips, pulling the full lower curve between his own in a soft tug. To his delight, Tim follows him, chasing his mouth, and they share the sweet cling and press, back and forth.
-----
Dick's wounds are somehow all still present upon waking. Magic, ugh, such a pain. The resulting frenzy of medical attention and getting bundled into another bed - too far away from Tim - like he's one foot through death's door isn't exactly fun, either.
(But still. Well worth it, for that first moment Tim's eyes flutter open and hazily lock on his. The world can keep spinning, now that Dick knows Tim is safe.)
As it turns out, Tim's recollection of what happened inside his own soul is equally hazy.
He remembers enough to melt bonelessly into Dick's chest when Dick sneaks over to share his bed, which dissolves the hard knot of worried tension in Dick's chest that he wouldn't remember anything, that he'd be back to subtle distance and awkward texts and not even feeling comfortable enough to share that he likes men, and Dick. Isn't sure he could have handled that.
So he ignores his aching ribs and multiple lacerations and puncture wounds and curls around Tim with his whole body, warmth and gratitude suffusing every aching muscle.
Tim...doesn't seem to remember the kiss. Which. Is a shame.
But Dick remembers it. Every moment is burned into him like the most intimate pyrography. That will have to be enough, until he can make it happen again.
(Tim's boyfriend doesn't stand a chance.)
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medicinal-doll · 1 year
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Wolf's Lair
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Title: Wolf's Lair
Daddy!Vampire!Geralt rivia x little!reader
Word count 1.6K
Summary: being the stupidly curious baby you are you sneak into daddy geralts lab which you are strictly forbidden from entering
Warnings: Oral sex Male receiving,Daddy kink,Ddlg themes,deepthroating,dom/sub dynamic,intimidation, punishment,Graphic depictions of sexual acts, teasing
A/N: First post so bear with me
*Please don't repost without permission If you use my writing as inspiration please ask first and credit me
*read at your own discretion
........
You silently creep down into the dark brooding lair lit only by a few dim candles. it reeks of herbs,spices,and the faintest tinge of metallic blood. you swing your head around in all directions scanning for your tall and brooding master but he's nowhere to be seen.
with the coast clear you explore the lab touching everything in sight until your gaze focuses on a particularly colorful beaker with a mysterious liquid. you pick it up and twirl it back and forth in your hands watching the colors change the beautiful glow of it puts you in a trance like state. first violet then blue now green and yellow then it turns to-
"looking for something in particular dear?"
you immediately jolt up and the beaker comes crashing down from your hands onto the cold obsidian tile shattering into a million pieces. you quickly turn to geralt apologies spilling from your quivering mouth.
A light smirk tugs at geralts lip and he raises a polite palm up to silence you. "please my dear save your tears" he calmly says as he slowly circles your form like a shark surveiling it's prey. " what i'm more interested in is what's a meek little thing like you is doing wandering about my lab"
you look down at your feet mind racing to try and think of an excuse but geralts far too smart to buy into any of your poorly thought out lies. he lifts your chin with a black polished finger to meet his scrutinizing amber gaze. " that was a question hun" your voice quivers under his watch "i- was looking for you cause-". "ah ah ah i'm not interested in your lies little one" "why don't you tell me what you were really doing hm"
you're at a loss for words you had no good reason for breaking the rule except your curiosity. your turn your head away from geralt in shame. He let's out a dark chuckle. "well if you don't tell me then i'm left to make my own assumptions" geralts turns walking away before turning back to face you arms crossed and leaning on a stone pillar.
"what i'm gathering from all this is that my little girl needs a harsh punishment to remind her of the rules" "daddy no!" you run to him and fling yourself in his arms geralts punishments are the worst. he always gets you worked up and flustered, and then he leaves. ignoring you for the rest of the day denying you of his affections.
"please daddy i didn't mean to do it I just missed you lots" geralt wipes your tears and brushes a stray hair away from your face as he coos at your trembling form. "aww baby you know there's better ways of getting my attention than that" you sniffle up at him doll eyes and doe eyed "m'sorry daddy won't do it again promise" and you see him falter at your cuteness "hmm...fine" he rolls his eyes then glares back down at you.
"you're too adorable for your own good honey" you giggle up at him as he pinches your cheek "But...I can't just let you get off scott free baby that'd make me a bad daddy" he says as he gently strokes your hair "you don't want to make me a bad daddy do you doll?" geralt says tilting his head at you. You shake your head no profusely at him still softly sniffling "i'll tell you what, how about you and me play a little game" you tilt your head in confusion "what kind of game daddy?"
He smiles at your innocence and then he stands straight up to tower over you. him completely dwarfing your frame."get on your knees and i'll gladly show you bunny" your hesitancy falters at the use of the pet name and you slowly lower to the ground till the cool tile meets your knees.
you look back up at geralt awaiting his guidance he smiles the kindest smile to you with encouraging eyes and leans a veiny hand down softly stroking your chin "good girl now get daddy's cock out" a light glaze of lust clouds your eyes and geralt internally celebrates with glee as he sees your innocence slipping right infront of him. and the fact that he's the cause and one responsible for it makes it all the better.
you place a gentle hand on geralts muscular thigh claud in tight leather and undo his belt and zipper with the other. Geralt watches your every move in silence the slight shake of your hand the trembling of your torso as you tug his pants and boxers down.
His erection springs up practically hitting you in the face. the swollen pink blushed lilac tip oozes precum and an angry red vein with a rhythmic pulse challenges you "are you ready for the game honey?" geralt snaps you from your daydreams and you suck back in the drool that threatened to spill from your mouth. and slowly nod up at him eyes more glazed than ever.
geralt smirks and reaches for an old hourglass that was on his desk. "the game works like this sweetie" "if you can make me cum before the sand runs out you win and daddy won't punish you" then geralts amber eyes go dark and you gulp in fear "but... if you lose i'm going to hang you like a fucking chandelier in my lab with a vibe strapped to your little cunt on high and clothespins on your little baby nipples until I get done remaking the potion that you so generously dropped"
Fear fills your eyes and suddenly this game doesn't sound so fun anymore. but before you can protest geralt flips the hourglass and the tiny beads of sand start to fall "better get started baby or would you rather be my little fucking decoration hm?" he darkly chuckles at your panicked face you quickly grapple onto geralts meaty shaft and start pumping. he lets out a little groan in response "hmm...as nice as that is baby that won't make me cum anytime soon you better try harder if you don't want to lose"
tears well up in your eyes and you frantically wrap your lips around his cock head and suck hungrily at it. then reach your hand down to massage his heavy balls. you flick your tongue on his tip over and over and you see his stomach clench as he tries to hold in a moan. "mm...that's better baby keep sucking at daddys big dick make me lose it all honey" you open your mouth wide and take in as much of his length as you can before you feel him hit the back of your throat.
You lightly choke on his big cock and that earns a few softs sighs from him. but then your eyes flicker to the hourglass "shit.." you mentally curse it's halfway gone and he's not even close to cumming. you attempt to pray your gag reflex away and take him all the way in till his balls meet your puffy lips.
You grab at his hands to pull at your hair and are surprised when he indulges you. geralt fucks your slutty mouth and you glare at him with even sluttier eyes that are enough alone to make him come undone. "fuck baby mmm.. Your getting daddy so fucking close" he grunts as he fucks into your drooling orfice "yeah doll just like that" he encourages "swallow your daddy nice and good mhm just like daddy taught you"
You check the hourglass out of your peripheral vision and it's almost gone. it's now or never geralts stamina is limitless and he once edged you for 3 hours with nothing but his cock. There's only one way your gonna make him cum. you pop him out of your mouth and furiously start stroking him with both hands "please cum for me daddy" you say as you look up at him with those doe eyes you know are his weakness.
Geralts jaw clenches and he avoids your gaze you pump harder paying special attention to his dripping cock head and balls "look at me daddy" "look at your little girl" you use one hand to free your tits from your silk slip dress. And geralt folds and his fiery gaze lands on your supple chest. between that, your pleasing words, and that delicious gaze. you have him right were you want him you win.
Thick white milk spews from his twitching cock coating your hands and staining your dress. you smile up at him wringing the last few drops of pleasure from his hard shaft. you lick the liquid morsels from your fingers and his cock. not wanting to miss a single drop. then you smile up at geralt to find he's already smiling back at you....yeah he's really smiling why is he grinning so hard...
.........
whimpers and moans fill the room along with the occasional clinking of glass and metal "how's it going baby!" geralt shouts behind him saliva pools from your gagged mouth too stuffed and mind to clouded with so many orgasms you can't count. words don't even form in your head geralt knows this and laughs lighty to himself .
"don't worry dear i'm almost finished here" he says as he pours the liquid of one beaker into the other "when i'm done how about have ourselves a little rematch" "maybe daddy will be nice and give you a headstart"
his callous words fall on deaf ears as you lose yourself to the intense buzz between your legs and the ever growing puddle of cum dripping onto the black tile.
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esther-dot · 11 months
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i've been thinking about all the rhaegar/lyanna theories (did she go willingly or was she kidnapped, etc.) and one thing i don't think gets discussed often enough is the time lag between when lyanna disappeared and when jon was conceived.
jon was born more than a year and a half after lyanna disappeared (she disappeared at the beginning of 282 AC, and he was born mid-to-late 283 AC). that means that he was conceived roughly a year after lyanna's disappearance. that year included the deaths of her father and brother at rhaegar's father's hand, rhaegar's father calling for the head of her second brother, a continent-wide war that rhaegar was taking no part in, rhaegar apparently having no contact with elia and taking no measures to protect her and her children, and lyanna being stuck in a random tower in the middle of nowhere.
whatever lyanna felt at the time of her disappearance, i simply can't conceive that she felt positively toward rhaegar one year later, at the time that jon was conceived. i just don't see her being a wholehearted participant in jon's conception. i think "lyanna left willingly" and "lyanna was raped" could both be true.
Ah, now that is an important detail. It certainly is hard to believe Lyanna was willing at that point. But that reminds me of the entire Knight of the Laughing Tree side of this convo, that I neglected to mention.
It was a good story, Bran decided after thinking about it a moment or two. "Then what happened? Did the Knight of the Laughing Tree win the tourney and marry a princess?"
"No," said Meera. "That night at the great castle, the storm lord and the knight of skulls and kisses each swore they would unmask him, and the king himself urged men to challenge him, declaring that the face behind that helm was no friend of his. But the next morning, when the heralds blew their trumpets and the king took his seat, only two champions appeared. The Knight of the Laughing Tree had vanished. The king was wroth, and even sent his son the dragon prince to seek the man, but all they ever found was his painted shield, hanging abandoned in a tree. It was the dragon prince who won that tourney in the end." (ASOS, Bran II)
So someone who deactivated once told me that their supposition was that Rhaegar sided with Lyanna over his father here. He found out it was her, promised not to tell, gave her the roses to honor her. To everyone else it was offensive / signaled romantic intent, to Lyanna, it could have been taken as an acknowledgment of her skills/what she'd done. That would have allowed Rhaegar to earn her trust, ingratiate himself, but also, signaled a break with his father.
We don't know how he framed things to her later, if he hyped up his plan to get rid of his dad, if he led her to believe he'd actually truly broken with his father and wouldn't side with him/fight against her family, if he convinced her he was as much a hapless victim as she had felt she was. Taking her all the way to Dorne could have been part of convincing her he was helping her escape her marriage, and that he was escaping his father. Depending, he could have created a lot of space between him and his dad. And then of course, in canon, when Robb believes he's lost Rickon and Bran, he seeks comfort in someone's arms.
Now, I'm not saying that is what happened, but there are ways to write this story without forcible rape, and based on how Rhaegar is characterized, I think that's where Martin would try to land. I do think she was a prisoner at some point, I think this is a Rhaegar-critical story, but I'm not sure that Martin is going in that particular direction.
There is also that first convo about Lyanna:
"She should be on a hill somewhere, under a fruit tree, with the sun and clouds above her and the rain to wash her clean." "I was with her when she died," Ned reminded the king. "She wanted to come home, to rest beside Brandon and Father." He could hear her still at times. Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses. Promise me, Ned. The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister's eyes. Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black. After that he remembered nothing. They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief. The little crannogman, Howland Reed, had taken her hand from his. Ned could recall none of it. "I bring her flowers when I can," he said. "Lyanna was … fond of flowers." The king touched her cheek, his fingers brushing across the rough stone as gently as if it were living flesh. "I vowed to kill Rhaegar for what he did to her." (AGOT, Eddard I)
This is couched in the idea that Robert loved her, Rhaegar kidnapped and raped her, they're talking about where to bury her, so the first time we read it, we're guided to believe Lyanna is begging to come home, but now we know, Lyanna was begging for Jon's life.
(That is not to say she didn’t want to come home, of course she did, I’m just pointing out the misdirection about what her pleas were about).
So, when I reread that passage with the idea that Lyanna left willingly (which I think is the implication of the revelations that Bran receives) and she was begging for her son's life out of fear of what Robert might do, we realize that while Rhaegar is the villain in Robert's story, Robert is the villain in Lyanna's. Robert stands there speaking of his love for a woman who died terrified of what he might do to her child. And rather than being able to hate the man who demanded that fear, Ned loves him, has to serve him, and rather than hating Rhaegar or thinking ill of him, he has a weirdly neutral opinion (link).
In that little scene, we know have the conflict of POVs, the way these characters are torn by loves and loyalties, the fact that Lyanna's enemy is Ned's best friend/"brother"/king, the fact that he takes the son of his enemy and calls him his own. The layers of pain here, the conflicts of his loves, that is one of the beautiful aspects of the series imo, and I believe the mystery Martin has been writing about throughout each book, in most POVs will have that same complexity.
At the same time, I hate Rhaegar and if he is a kidnapper/rapist, it would be very Targy of him. Can't eliminate the possibility!
While writing this I remembered a post I thought tried to give a balanced view of things, worked to reconcile the characterization and the events of R/L which you might like to read (link). I also really appreciate this breakdown of whether or not Lyanna could give meaningful consent (link).
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notmoreflippingelves · 5 months
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Hi! I just read your post about Mateo recently. If I may, can you give me any specific instances in the narrative of the show where Mateo isn’t called out as heavily as they should have? I’m just curious?
During the Shuriki returns arc in particular, Mateo makes some pretty glaring mistakes that I feel like he should've gotten much more flack for (and based on what we see elsewhere in canon, I feel pretty confident that if Gabe, Naomi, Isa, or Esteban at least --and possibly even Elena-- had made these mistakes, they wouldn't have been swept under the rug nearly as quickly as they were for Mateo).
While it's unfair to completely blame Mateo for Carla's manipulating him during the "Rita" arc, I feel like it's reasonable to hold him a *bit* accountable. He did after all blab highly confidential information (on more than one occasion) to try and impress a pretty girl with how clever and important he was. (Something tells me that if any of the others had done likewise, they would've been called out for it. But because it's "beloved" Mateo, we don't even get "wait, you told Rita how to get into your workshop? And you've known her for only a few weeks? What were you thinking, Mateo?") Moreover, he never even apologizes for this or promises to do better/be more careful with such important, sensitive information in the future.
Even more aggravating is his behavior in "The Scepter of Night." Mateo is so eager to play the hero and claim all the glory for himself that he twice (!) disobeys a direct order/abandons the plan and goes looking for the scepter piece on his own. This directly leads to Fiero and Victor finding the scepter piece and (temporarily) stealing it. And it's really only due to luck and very conveniently-timed infighting amongst Shuriki's allies that Elena and co. are able to get the scepter piece back. While Mateo does receive some (brief) criticism, it's nowhere near the level that it should be.
Also noteworthy Elena doesn't really get particularly "mad" at him (especially considering how angry we see her get at other characters even for more minor things) . She's not truly, actually angry at Mateo (and Gabe and Naomi are only a bit angrier); she's just a little frustrated and disappointed at him in the moment. And apart from a (very short) little "do better next time" speech, Mateo doesn't face any real consequences or lingering resentment unlike other characters who do.
When Isa obeys direct orders in "Sister of Invention," she has to face consequences (Elena grounding her). Similarly, Elena holds a grudge against Esteban for days (if not weeks) after he interfered with the Feast of Friendship (a much lower stakes mistake than Mateo's imo). Moreover, it's possible to interpret Esteban's staying behind in Avalor when the others go to see the Norberg Lights as a punishment (either self-inflicted or imposed by Elena) for his actions in the previous episode.
In contrast, Mateo just gets a brief "I expected better from you" speech from Elena and Gabe jokingly assigning him push-ups as punishment (which he immediately takes back when Mateo tries to do them). I'll give Mateo a little bit of credit for actually apologizing this time (which he doesn't always do). But it's still frustrating that everyone is so ready to forgive and forget Mateo's missteps immediately while this same courtesy is seldom shown to others.
I think it's worth directly comparing a few Mateo-centric episodes with a few more similar ones that focus on other characters so that we can see how there does seem to be a noted narrative bias in his favor compared to the others.
Let's start with two "feeling kind of insecure" episodes: "Spellbound" for Mateo vs. "Naomi Knows Best" for Naomi. In the former, Mateo expresses doubt that he's capable of rising to the occasion as royal wizard. No one (except Gabe and he gets over it by the end of the episode) blames him for not having reached his full level of confidence and potential right away and not being able to immediately solve the problem. And Elena in particular (and by extension the narrative) gives him so much validation and support. Whereas in "Naomi Knows Best" (and to a lesser extent "Finders Leapers" and the "Carla-as-Rita" arc as well) the narrative "punishes" Naomi for her feelings of self-doubt. We're told that *if only* Naomi had trusted her gut instincts and stood her ground right away, Elena and co would not fallen right into the trap and that Naomi needs to screw her head back on straight and embrace confidence ASAP to fix her mistake.
When Mateo feels insecure, the narrative gives him every reassurance about how capable and special he is, that he can learn at his own pace, and his insecurity isn't really such a problem after all. When Naomi feels insecure, the narrative encourages her to get over her doubts as quickly as possible because unlike with Mateo, there's "no time" for her to wallow in self-doubt and actually the fact that she even had said doubt in the first place is what "caused" the disaster.
On a slightly different note, Naomi is also called out for taking a little free, fun time for herself in "The Last Laugh" when the group needs her, and yet somehow I have a feeling that Mateo would've been allowed to take a day off if he wanted without any protest. He complains about long hours in "Movin' on Up" and Elena gives him the big royal wizard's chambers for him to relax and unwind in. Naomi asks for one (1) day off to spend with her childhood friend for her birthday , and suddenly it's big drama. (And at the time, Naomi asked for said day off, all Elena needed from her was help doing paperwork. The Team Ash stuff came up unexpectedly.)
Similarly whenever Gabe and Mateo get their little rivalry on ("Spellbound," "Party of a Lifetime," "Captain Mateo" and a few other examples) , the narrative either presents them as equally at fault or Mateo as the only one in the right.
When Gabe brings in Bronzino to train the Royal Guards in magic, it's specifically because Mateo failed to explain how and why he was training the guards in the way he was. If he'd just explained how they were going apply the seemingly basic exercise they were doing to real magic, Gabe likely would've allowed Mateo to continue the training at his own pace.
(Also like. it's super hypocritical imo for Mateo to get annoyed at Gabe feeling impatient/impulsive about their apparent-lack-of progress when Mateo himself is easily the second most impulsive character in the show after Elena.) Mateo feels entitled to keep important information to himself (or blab it to a cute girl he barely knows) even when its no one else's best interest. He's only okay with being "cautious and patient" when he specifically is the one setting the pace. And yet, Gabe is the only one who is called out for his behavior in this episode--even though he might not have acted as he did if only Mateo had trusted him and the guards with an explanation in the first place.
And then there's just a few other "dude not cool" little moments that never really get acknowledged/Mateo never apologizes for. For instance, there a two low-key terrifying Mateo moments in "Captain Mateo" that are not only not acknowledged but are also framed in context as Mateo being just "so funny and quirky". Near the end of "Should be in Charge," Mateo magically gags Gabe so he can't protest anymore about Mateo taking over as leader of the mission. And this is after having already enchanted one of the stationary suits of armor to come to life and fight Gabe. (Gabe admittedly does lightly shove Mateo out of the way during his parts of the song, but that's still a far cry from literally drawing a sword on Mateo as Mateo does via magic to Gabe.)
It's played for laughs (The Grand Council is just smiling happily in the background throughout the scene which is so yikes), so it's easy to overlook what's actually happening. Frankly, it's pretty horrifying that Mateo's natural instinct upon his experience/authority being questioned is to literally attack and then silence. (And attack and silence someone who is supposed to be one of his best friends and closest allies at that!)
Rather than the narrative acknowledging that maybe it's a bad idea to immediately grant power to someone to someone who is so retaliatory against fairly minor criticism, the Grand Council just gives Mateo exactly what he wants and doesn't even offer a "maybe next time, let's not gag or attack our friends, okay?" alongside it. I mean sure Mateo does step down as captain at the end of the episode, but it's very specifically presented as his and Gabe's voluntary choice and not an order from Elena/the Council.
#elena of avalor#eoa salt#it's not mateo that bothers me so much; it's the double standard that nearly every other character is held to while he is not#gabe is the only one who ever seems to call mateo out on his shit regularly#and most of the time; it's framed as petty jealousy and/or gabe being unreasonable#even when gabe is the one talking sense#i feel like i've heard that mateo is one of the writers' faves and dang does it SHOW!#we were owed a dark mateo arc tbh#mateo thinks he's the next alacazar but I don' think it would be all that hard to turn him into the next fiero instead#it writes itself and honestly i would've liked him more that way#instead of just presenting him is as the specialest; cutest; quirkiest magical boy instead#let him go dark for a short time before realizing his mistakes and then have to work hard for everyone's forgiveness#esteban has to sacrifice his life in order to earn forgiveness for an (admittedly huge) mistake he made 40+ years ago#yet it's apparently too much for mateo to get more than the mildest rebuke over a (also big) mistake he made less than an hour ago?#also like whenever esteban or gabe are really proud/cocky or naomi gets single-episode acquired situational narcissism in “my fair naomi”#the narrative absolutely punishes them for it#whereas mateo is free to be as over-confident and braggy and vain as he wants and seldom gets called out on it#because i guess he's genuinely as 'cool and special' as he claims so he deserves the right to brag?#whereas the others' apparently aren't and don't?#anti mateo de alva
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machiroads · 4 months
Text
Machi's 2023 Year In Review
'23 was a bit of a wild one. A toast to the last twelve months (both in fandom and IRL) under the cut.
Fic
Here's what went out the door in '23:
Naruhata Noir
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I started posting NN in December '22, about a month after finishing 9L. At one point last year I joked about finishing the entire thing in the week between Christmas and New years. Evidently, this did not happen for a variety of reasons:
A) A series of events occurring in my personal life that do not merit further detail that I will herein refer to as "the conga line of nonsense". That kicked off during last year's holiday season and bled into like...May. Which leads directly into:
B) Tears of the Kingdom came out. And;
C) A general loss of motivation in the project.
During the aforementioned Conga Line of Nonsense, I had a goal of finishing before TotK came out, but I only managed to cobble together another 4 chapters between January and May. After somehow managing weekly to biweekly chapters for 9L, NN was much more sporadic, and at one point I had people asking me if I was still alive. Which. sucked, since I generally strive to be a somewhat reliable person.
Once the TotK hyperfixation hit, I managed maaaaaaybe another 2 chapters before I finally got bored of grinding monsters to upgrade outfits. I did manage to meet the third self-imposed deadline of finishing before going to Japan for 2 weeks, so at least that's one W.
In addition to the distractions of Life, NN was more challenging to write for a few main reasons:
Aizawa is not the narrator. Look, I'm mature enough to acknowledge that he is Blorbo From My Shows, and everything I write wants to revolve around him. Taking a step back from that and trying to get into another character's head after spending 8 solid months on 9L was an adjustment. It took me a bit of time to find Shinsou's voice.
Most of the relationship dynamics in this fic are non-canonical, and pulled directly out of my ass. Shinsou's relationships with the Hottas are central to the back half of the fic, and his relationship with Mirko also becomes prominent at times. NONE OF THESE CHARACTERS HAVE EVER INTERACTED IN REAL LIFE I'M JUST SMASHING DOLLS TOGETHER LIKE I DID AS A 7 YEAR OLD.
Trying to parallel something I already wrote several months ago is hard. I wanted NN to make sense on its own, but also follow the relevant bits from 9L. This was next to impossible to accomplish without sounding clunky. Almost from the very beginning of the fic, the outsider's perspective of Aizawa's first steps, I felt the urge to change the dialogue because the story that I wanted to tell from Shinsou's perspective was different from the one I wanted to tell from Aizawa's perspective. I locked myself into that rigidity for a while, until I finally decided just to say fuck it at the end and modify the 9L dialogue slightly because the story had taken on a life of its own.
Erasermic took a major backseat in this one, but I still needed to scratch the itch, and I think that's why I ended up writing 2 emic one shots in between chapters.
I don't think a direct parallel spin-off is something I would try writing again, and the fic was probably a lot longer than it needed to be, but at the end of the day, I'm satisfied with the way it turned out, and I'm happy I was actually able to finish it this year.
Here's a collage of my inspo for Aizawa's apartment cobbled together from google maps and japanese real estate websites.
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Being No One, Going Nowhere
The first of the 3 one shots that I put out this year, and a proof of concept that I can slap together 3k in a day and a half fever dream and call it a fic.
This one in particular was instigated by one of @o0fyuu0o's tweets that refused to leave me alone. And maybe also the two broken arms story from reddit, but you know, like, less incesty.
Mic was extremely pathetic in this one, which is immensely fun to write. Just a pathetic little meow meow. Sopping wet cat of a man.
College AU was fun to write, emboldened in part by @kyurilin's fic Stray. After being married to canon-verse for both 9L and NN, this was an exercise in just making shit up, and also living vicariously through the memories of the house I lived in for the better part of 2 years as an undergrad. I graduated 7 years ago and it is still crystallized in my memory.
A Tumultuous Sea, You and Me
I've been nursing a healthy crush on Pirate!Aizawa (or Paizawa, as the kids on JP Twit call him) since the Volume 35 character page came out in June '22. Paizawa even killed a 2 year long art block, that's how powerful he is. (Look!)
I do not remember what exactly spurned this one on, but it also got written in the span of about 2 days. I think I reread The Art of Drowning at some point this year, but I do not remember if it was during the writing frenzy, or sometime before it.
Aizawa gets to hold the meow meow card again in this one. His 2 sentence rivalry with Vlad is one of the best things I've ever written.
Of the 2 days I spent writing this, I probably spent 75% of that researching pirate ships. I used almost none of it, and have forgotten almost all of it by this point.
I feel like everyone that dips their toes into the realm of merpeople has a different interpretation on it, but I wanted to spend approximately 0 minutes on worldbuilding, so it's just kind of a chill coexistence between the pirates and the mermaids in this one lol. People were intrigued by said "worldbuilding" however and wanted more, but I think I've scratched the mer-pirate itch for now haha.
1966 Ford Nutstang GT350 Shelby
@kyurilin made a tumblr post that misspelled "mustang" as "nustang" and I skim-read it and saw "nutstang" and was like "you know what would be a terribad nickname for the car? Nutstang." At which point I immediately informed her, which led down the rabbit hole of a very loose RP (as it often does) and I decided YOU KNOW WHAT? I SHOULD JUST TURN THIS INTO A CRACK FIC.
At which point I had to sort of construct a loose plot around the entire bonkers concept. Nemuri held a key role in the pseudo-RP, but I ended up wanting to keep the fic tight and her role was mostly cut. But rest assured she is there in spirit, though, judging.
The plush nutsack is just a bastardization of a kangaroo ballsack coinpurse I saw in a Crap Souvenirs From Around The World calendar I had many years back that has imprinted on my memory. At no point did I seek out visual reference for it, and neither should you. It is up to the reader's imagination.
On the topic of bastardizations, the reappearing nutsack plotline is borrowed from the drawfee gnome saga.
Mic yelling GOOD MORNING and Aizawa banging his head on the underside of his desk is S tier slapstick.
PEOPLE MADE ART????
Some wonderful listeners readers are still making art for 9L, and we have been blessed with two beautiful new pieces this year:
Mic and Eri's selfie, from @kaleidoscopedrawsjpg
The Only One Bed scene, from @guiltyfixations
@obsessed-dragon also drew the photo of Shinsou holding Miso from Naruhata Noir, and Black Spider Eyes drew Aizawa dangling out the window from Tumultuous Sea.
Every time a piece of art drops on my dash, or I see my fic being recommended to other people, my brain does a lil short circuit and I have to go get up and walk around for a bit. I'm not sure words can express how much it means to me that people have enjoyed my writing enough to recommend it to other people, or sit down and create something of their own based off of it. It's humbling, and I'm truly grateful for every kind word or "sketch I should have maybe spent a little longer on" hahaha
Stats!
Look, I'm an engineer. I can't resist the thrall of Microsoft Excel. So here's A Chart.
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I value Bookmarks the highest of all the stats that AO3 spits out. Views are pointless (skewed higher in the context of multi-chap fics). Kudos are an indicator of how many people read and liked enough to leave a kudos, but bookmarks are my indicator of how many people liked it enough to keep it around to read again, or recommend to others.
The bookmark-to-kudos ratio is (in my unscientific opinion) a measure of how many people loved the work vs how many people just liked it.
From the chart above, we can propose the following conclusions:
9L is still, far and away, the most popular, and most well-loved thing I've ever written. I'm fine with that.
The Nutstang fic was a certified cult classic, with a bookmark-to-kudos ratio of almost 0.3, second to only 9L.
NN is at a respectable ratio of 0.24 (middle of the pack), but in terms of number of kudos, is not that far ahead the mer-pirate fic. NN was not tagged as erasermic, so I do think this checks out in terms of sheer exposure.
Still Cooking:
FFXII AU
I started this one in March during the conga line of personal life nonsense. I somehow lured in Robbirdthe8th and @o0fyuu0o and @obsessed-dragon and got a solid month of drafting done before I was like "maybe I should work on NN again" and then it sat dormant until like. October.
It's up to almost 30k across 3 partially written chapters already, and I outlined 9 chapters. It is almost certainly overambitious, and I will almost certainly run into the same motivation issue I had with NN because it's a rooftop 4 fic and not just erasermic, and it has a demographic of approximately four people as an AU of a game that came out in uh........2006.
I thought I'd get at least some of it out in '23 but I'm taking it easy and just writing when inspiration strikes at the moment.
Fortuneteller AU
I started this one maybe a week-ish ago, in my quest for a pitch for the erasermic zine (surprise! they haven't made official announcements yet, but I'll be in it. this is an easter egg for those of you who made it this far). It's going to end up far too long for the 3k word limit for that, so I'm just co-opting it for another one-shot. Taisho era urban fantasy dabbling in some Violet Evergarden/FMA-esque post-war themes. Mic with pince nez. Aizawa in hakama. Gratuitous amateur tarot. It has gripped me by the throat.
More from the Nine Lives Extended Universe (canon-willing)
I've got 3 more spin-offs to 9L simmering, just waiting for canon to figure out its business. These are:
When The Battle's Lost and Won
A final battle post-mortem in 4 parts (if 3baka all make it out alive that is). Every few chapters of canon that come out, something gets added or tossed. Extremely fluid at this point, but there are some good quality blurbs and bullet points in there.
Kintsugi
The erasermic epilogue to 9L, from Mic's perspective. An exploration of their relationship beyond the final battle, with an overarching theme that I've borrowed from a Dorktown documentary on former Toronto Blue Jays pitcher Dave Stieb: Not at all, and then all at once.
This one's just pure body worship, punctuated by an extremely casual marriage proposal. A lot of people still comment on 9L like "THIS CAN'T BE IT, WHERE'S THE REST OF IT?", so I hope this will satisfy those looking for some closure from a relatively open ending.
The Way of the Househero
With the impending graduation of the hell class, and a body that doesn't quite move the way it used to, Aizawa has a bit of an existential crisis and semi-retires so he can be a full-time parent to Eri while figuring out what's next for him. Mostly slice of life. No real plot to this one yet, mostly just vignettes. Aizawa finally gets cats of his own, makes mom friends, and becomes more of a knife slut (only its in the kitchen now instead of on the streets).
IRL
Painting
Every room in my home is painted some sort of bland pastel, and this year we managed to purge pastels from four rooms: my home office, our living room / dining room, and our bedroom. I am enormously pleased with how each of these have turned out.
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Gardening
We moved to this house in January '22, and last year was mostly seeing what came up in the garden. This year we cleared out a lot of the decorative shrubs in our backyard (turns out you can hock shrubs on facebook marketplace), and planted a veggie garden. The extent of my gardening experience prior to this year was mowing the lawn as a teenager, so this year was a continuous learning experience, and likely will be for many more years to come.
We had some big wins (potatoes, tomatoes, carrots, cherries, squash, dear god the squash), and some losses (apples that were infested with tent caterpillars, arugula that bolted, and lettuce that got eaten by bunnies to name a few).
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In addition to veggies, we also did a lot of general cleanup around the rest of the yard, including clearing out some invasive species and thinning out some partially dead shrubs. We mostly let the yard do its own thing last year, and the previous owner of our home died about 6 months before we moved in, so it was probably neglected for a while. I cut out a blackberry cane that was as long as our driveway. I bought a wood chipper and a compost aerator and am learning the art and science of turning yard trash into yard treasure. (I have not peed on my compost pile yet, as recommended by /r/composting. Maybe some day.)
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I also adopted a clipping from my sister-in-law's monstera, which has done quite well (except for the parts my cat has taken a mild interest in nibbling on from time to time)
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Travel
Probably too much travel this year ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
3 Weddings (4 if you count the one in December '22 that's included in the Conga Line of Nonsense). Got covid at 2 of them. Invited to a fifth next year. Wishing everyone of marriageable age I know IRL a very elope
Trips for work to Winnipeg and Calgary (to which I have never been before, but are both underwhelming). Also got to fly on a floatplane for the first time, which is noisy, but the views are unbeatable
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I turned 30 this year, and after the Conga Line of Nonsense, I said fuck it, we're going back to Japan for my birthday. 2 weeks, 8 cities. L: Shimanami Kaido cycle (still somehow 30 degrees in September x full sun x forgot sunscreen x 80km = pain) (my husband has proofread this and insists that this is not an L but agree to disagree) W: Hokkaido (beautiful scenery, incredible food, not 30 degrees in September lmao)
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Anyways
If you made it this far, thanks for reading, and thanks for your love in '23. I hope to provide you with more of the same nonsense in '24. Let me know if you want a spinoff cats + gardening + DIY blog, since that's just my life now. Happy new year 🍾
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chanswifey · 1 year
Note
Ok this is me in crackhead hours but could you do a funny jisung reaction to…..
You are cuddling in bed (it’s like 3am) and you have been lethargic all day no energy so jisung kind of feels sorry for you. Then out of nowhere you bite his bicep and randomly star a play fight war. 
a/n: aaaaa love me a little crackhead moment 😆
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Not many things in life make you feel at peace quite like chilling in bed with your favorite boy, especially after a hard day. The minute you put a foot inside the house, your boyfriend comes running to greet you with a hug and a bunch of sloppy kisses he's got the energy of a thousand suns, that boy. It's not uncommon for you to match his energy but on this particular day you were not feeling very well.
With the weekend approaching, the days started to weigh on you and your body was feeling heavy, once you opened the door you heard footsteps coming in your direction, too tired to even lift your head, you left yourself into Jisung's embrace. He quickly realized that you were different.
"What's wrong, baby?", he asks as he lifts your face to get a look at you.
"I'm just really tired", you answer, trying to sound just a tiny bit less exhausted than you felt. He tightens his arms around you and places a kiss on your forehead.
"So... dinner in bed?", he proposes. You agree. He makes you go ahead and shower while he orders some food so when you leave the bathroom, there's food and your boyfriend already waiting in bed.
The two of you eat in silence and it's in moments like this that you feel most thankful for having someone like him in your life, there's no fuss, no complications, and no words needed to fill the silence. Just comfort and most importantly, love.
Time goes by, and there's some random movie playing on TV and you are laying in his arms while he rubs your back and talks about his day. He talks about the boys and the cute dog he saw on the way home and that one bug that followed him for two blocks that he had to enter some random shop to get rid of and all you do is laugh at the way he tells the story thinking how cute it is when he gets excited and gets ahead of himself and stumble on his words, so much that sometimes you have to do something to grab his attention so he can calm down a little bit.
That's when you spot your opportunity, a bare arm right there inches away from your face and you don't even think twice. You take a bite, not hard enough to hurt, obviously but hard enough to startle him.
"Whaaat?? WHY??", he screams, his face showing how confused and surprised he is.
"You were talking too fast, I couldn't understand you", you tease him, still giggling at his reaction.
"Okay then... you asked for this!", and you know exactly what is going to happen next, he jumps on top of you and starts a tickle fight, that's his go-to strategy to get back at you but now that you feel energetic again you are more than ready to retaliate.
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Hit me up with whatever headcanon or scenarios you have and i will try to write a short story for it
[masterlist]
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stellaluna33 · 1 year
Note
You match my opinions perfectly and I was wondering your opinion on something. So a big discourse between fans is characterisation in receivable particularly with Logan and rory with Logan in particular being a big arguing point. There arguments seem to use season 7 of his “growth” but i was wondering as season 7 isn’t what creator wanted and revival is doesn’t that mean it makes sense As his “growth” was with other writers and not part of plan?
Yeah, that's pretty much what I've come to believe: that the character arc ASP intended for Logan all along was basically what happened in the Revival. A lot of things about the Revival make a lot more sense if you imagine them taking place soon after Season 6, and it was billed as ASP finally getting to end the show "the way she wanted."
A lot of people complained that the "Logan is Christopher" parallel "came out of nowhere," but the more I rewatch the show and see older interviews, it becomes increasingly obvious to me that he was ALWAYS written that way. A guy who "rebels" in superficial ways but lets his life be decided for him in all the ways that matter most, maybe because he doesn't know what he really wants enough to take any real risks for it. The new writers (for Season 7) apparently wanted to take his character in a more positive direction, and people who really like the character understandably really liked that. I can't blame them... I mean, if you're fond of a character, you want to see them do well... But looking at the series as a whole, I am more interested in thinking about the story ASP was TRYING to tell. It also frustrates me that Logan's "development" seemed to come at the expense of Rory's in some ways. She went into the relationship saying, "People can change!" and, "I'm good for him!" and while Seasons 5 and 6 seemed to show that Rory herself ended up changing far more than Logan did, Season 7 apparently decided that... that should work? Logan was "tamed by the love of a Good Woman!" He was inspired to be Good and Brave and settle down because Rory was smiling and supportive and patient enough! "You broke him," the writers had Paris declare triumphantly (at which S7 Rory was oh-so-sweetly surprised and dismayed). I don't know, I mean that's a deeply appealing fantasy for a lot of people. But I really don't think that's where ASP was going with it. She was aiming for something a bit more tragic, it seems, which, on one hand might be a little depressing in some ways... But on the other hand, I do think it makes for a more interesting story in other ways.
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lumine-no-hikari · 3 months
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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #35
Lately, I've been doing my best to try to establish a balance between "not being ideologically inflexible" and "not falling to pieces doubting myself whenever I come across hostility in my general direction." You can skip the next bit of this paragraph if abuse is a trigger for you, but, in my experience, being beaten viciously for something, only to have the adult who did it to you tell you that you imagined the whole thing, even as your body is wracked with pain and the bruises are blossoming under your skin, while being in a position where your only choice is to believe them or get hit some more… it DOES things to a person. And one of those things is "relatively permanent damage to one's ability to trust in one's own perceptions and experiences."
But I'm working on it, nonetheless. The cards are stacked against me, for sure, but I'm still working on it. I still tend to hold a bit too much space for others' misguided perceptions of me and the things that I speak and write, and I tend to hold the thoughts and opinions of others in higher regard than I do for my own. Still, I like to think that I get better and better at avoiding doing these things, the more I practice trusting myself and trusting in the integrity of my senses and ability to reason. It's an uphill battle, for sure. But it is one worth fighting, even though I have fears of becoming rigid and unyielding when it comes to how I perceive things (like some of my adult overlords in the past), and fears of people getting hurt as a result of me being wrong (I have both done this and have been on the receiving end of it; -54/10 stars, would not recommend).
I received more hostility regarding my letters today that seemed to come out of nowhere:
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I can't condemn this person for their words. I won't; you are a fictional character, and they are obviously going through some kind of difficulty that I don't know anything about. And I won't accept it if others condemn or humiliate them, either. I will not tolerate cruelty or ableism. If I see it, I will block whoever does it. I won't even hesitate on that front - mark my words. Do not disparage this person. This has been a warning.
What I'm focused on is the part that goes, "Stop wimping with your pathetic letters." I focus on the part that seems to imply that I am not doing a valid form of battle, because instead of using you as a religious icon, I instead write to you (despite the fact that I am very much aware that you are a fictional character) with kindness, compassion, and grace about a version of normal that canon seems to indicate that you wish you knew. I focus on the part that implies that I am somehow "going against" you by modeling wholesome things and constructive ways of dealing with one's emotions. I focus on the disparaging of my speaking on such delightful things as food and tea.
And… like the other person who tried to make me feel small (this one also failed; don't worry), this one also seemed to entirely miss the point of what it is that I am trying to do. The fact of the matter is that you are an art form in my world. And there is no right or wrong way to perceive or enjoy an art form. Some people really struggle with that particular bit though, and lash out at others because they hinge their entire sense of identity and their sense of self-worth on whether or not others perceive art forms in the same exact way as they do. The mechanics behind this are usually trauma-driven; I will not condemn these folks, either.
The fact of the matter is that some people are going to look at you and see a monster, and that's valid. I'm never, ever going to tell them that they're wrong; they have different life experiences than I do, and therefore they are going to see you differently than I do, and I am not going to sit here and try to change their mind. I don't know everything.
Still others are going to look at you and see a helpless baby and victim who was totally justified in all his choices, and that's also valid. I'm never, ever going to tell them that they're wrong; again, they have different life experiences than I do, and therefore they are going to see you differently than I do, and I am not going to sit here and try to change their mind. I don't know everything.
As for me, I like to think that I am under no illusion regarding who you are or the things you've done. You were a victim of terrible abuse, yes. And I personally understand how living in an environment where you're not loved can twist you into someone you're not. But all the same, we are still responsible for all the things we do even when we are not acting in accordance with our innermost nature. We are still responsible for the terrible things we do, even when we don't feel like we have other options. We are still responsible for the things we do when we don't know better. We are still responsible for moving ourselves to places where we can learn better, so that we can do better.
Using myself as a concrete example: it doesn't matter if I lash out at my husband because I am in the middle of a flashback, thinking like I'm about to get hit (he would never, don't worry). I am still 100% responsible for everything I do while I am in an adrenaline-driven state. It is still my responsibility to find better ways of managing and preventing my own triggers. It is my responsibility to learn better ways of communicating and coping with stress and uncertainty. It is NOT my husband's responsibility to avoid my triggers, it IS my responsibility to make myself into a person who my husband need not walk on eggshells around. It is my responsibility to make sure that I am well-fed, well-hydrated, and well-rested such that it is less likely for me to fall into an adrenaline-driven state in the first place. It is MY responsibility, and MY responsibility alone, to shape myself into someone who does not lash out. Period.
All that being said, it is still the case that nothing can ever take back the cruel words, the condescending stares, and the frightening body language that I have given in the past to people who ASBOLUTELY DID NOT DESERVE IT. No one ever deserves nonsense like that, so I do the work to grow into a person who refuses to do such things, because in my mind, anything less is unacceptable. I carry the weight of my past mistakes on my shoulders all the time; it is something that I will never set down, because it is the thing that drives me to continually improve; the knowledge that someone else might get hurt if I am not constantly mindful and vigilant - if I am negligent for even a moment - is pure fucking torture. Make absolutely no goddamn mistake about that. Even if I spend the rest of my life improving myself and trying to help others to heal, it will still not be enough to make up for the feelings I've hurt.
I will not call you a monster - there's no such thing. But the fact of the matter is (assuming that Nibelheim was not firebombed like Banora), you have done terrible, inexcusable, and unjustifiable things. You will never, EVER be able to erase the blood, pain, and tears caused by the lives you stole. The best you can hope for when it comes to trying to make amends for the damage you caused is to spend the rest of your life learning better ways to take care of yourself so that you can better learn to manage your anger, rebuilding the structures you broke, helping others who have been victimized in ways similar to you to heal and make better choices, and using your amazing power to try to restore genuine peace to your world. And the reality of it is, even if you spent eternity doing this, it will still not be enough to make up for the lives you misguidedly erased during the throes of your suffering.
But at the same time, death is too easy for the kinds of mistakes you made. It is better to go through the absolute agony that is healing so that by the end of it, you can properly carry the weight of what you've done on your shoulders for as long as you draw breath. Even with the weight of your childhood conditioning and the knowledge of everything you did, and all of the ways you have failed yourself and the people around you, you still have to carry on as though your life has meaning and value, because it does. Every life does. And my view on this sort of thing does not stop at you.
I choose mercy and compassion, and that has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with the kind of person I want to be. And people can call me "wimping" and "pathetic" if they want to; that is their right. But I will propose that such people who feel comfortable using words like these to describe other living, breathing human beings know nothing about true strength:
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The little video above focuses on The Lich from a series called Adventure Time. A past version of me had views much like his. I was very much of the mind that all I would find in this world is darkness and pain. I know the kinds of things I used to wish I had the power to do - things that are, without question or hesitation, abhorrent to me now.
The love I carry for others is a choice. One that I have to keep consciously making over and over and over. I did not have the privilege of growing up in it. By choice, I exist as a bright spot of light, hope, joy, and love, in stark defiance of the darkness, fear, cruelty, and hate that surrounds me on a day-to-day basis. And my ability to make these choices was built by my own two broken and bloodied hands, piece by sharp, searing, white-hot, agonizing piece, through suffering, terror, and despair.
Here is the additional context behind the smaller video from before. Behold these:
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This next one continues it; it's only a few seconds, but it's still important:
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And if you understand that the resulting "Sweet P" can wield dark and light concurrently… you understand why Sweet P is a FAR more terrifying force than The Lich could ever be:
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Like with Sweet P, the "Lich" in me is not dead. Just… put to better use. A use in which I am the one in control:
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I am anything but "wimpy" and "pathetic". And the fact that these letters to you even exist at all, in the format in which they do, should be proof enough. I don't need to prove myself to anyone.
And so I will keep going on in the way that I do. I will spend the bulk of my time kneeling in awe of or in service to other human beings, knowing full well that being in such a position leaves me far more open to being hurt, and knowing full well that making this choice while understanding what the consequences are, is what true strength looks like.
It is why, if the naysayers want me to be silent, they're going to have to kill me. And it is why, if any such attempt is made, it will be welcomed with the very same tea and snacks that they would likely disparage.
And no matter how the result pans out, I will still come out on top. Either they will turn, or they will free me from my meat-suit, and I will simply return later in some other form to continue doing the very same work I speak on - perhaps even in a body that actually fucking works properly. Wouldn't that be nice.
Please stay safe out there. You still have work to do. And even more importantly: you are loved and cared about and your life is still worthwhile, no matter the mistakes you've made before. You can make this transformation; I refuse to believe that I am a stronger person than you are.
I will continue to write to you, regardless of any opposition I face.
Your friend, Lumine
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frangipani-wanderlust · 3 months
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How To Call 911
So most of my followers know now that I started working last May as a 911 dispatcher. Super proud of myself. And now that I am starting (very much still starting) to settle in a bit, I want to offer some tips on how to call 911. So, hold on to your hats.
(original version with colored text here)
When in doubt, call 911. Don't take this as me encouraging you to jump at shadows. Your neighbors' loud party is not an emergency, google the local non-emergency line and call that. Neither is the dry cleaning not giving you your clothes (I actually got this call on our 911 line). Nor is the fact that you saw a fox inside city limits (also something a real human called 911 about). But if you see a situation unfolding and you think "this seems dangerous, maybe this is 911-worthy" then it's 911-worthy. Don't hesitate. Call.
If you call 911 and you are freaking out, that's okay. If you're in a crisis, you may not remember a single tip I'm about to give you. We are trained for that, we can handle it, just do the best you can. It's not the end of the world to have a hysterical or frightened caller, and these are tips, not rules.
Location, location, location. We can't send you help if we have nowhere to send it to. Ideally, know the address. Failing that, know the name of a business or a church or an intersection. It is not cheating if you read this off a sign. There isn't a set of invisible rules that says you have to have your exact GPS coordinates memorized. Be prepared to describe the location somehow. That way, if our connection drops and that's all you can tell me, I can still send some police out to come find out what's going on and they can ask for medics or firefighters or whatever if needed. But we absolutely must know where to send assistance, it is the first thing we're going to ask.
Location again, but with a twist. The first thing our office says for emergencies is, "911, what is the address of the emergency?" If a building is on fire, tell us where the fire is. If your neighbors are being robbed at gunpoint across the street, give us their address. If you witnessed a car accident, tell us where the accident happened. The location of the emergency isn't necessarily the location where you are. Don't send police and fire to your office building if the wreck is on the freeway.
Answer the questions that you are asked. If the calltaker asks "Is the patient breathing?" don't start in about the seizure they just had (if they aren't breathing, the seizure they just had is not the biggest problem). If the calltaker asks, "Which way did the man you saw go when they ran?" don't tell them about how they broke down your door (if they are running away, knowing they broke your door down does not help the police know which direction to start looking). The particular question you are asked is being asked for a reason, and that reason is not frivolous but in an emergency, we aren't going to stop and explain everything.
Do not launch into a speech. If you're asked a yes/no question, yes or no is all the answer you should give. Your impulse will be to explain the yes or the no because more information is better than not enough, but overexplaining is its own problem. Now, we are hired for good typist skills, and are encouraged to get better and faster, but infodumping means things can get missed. The calltaker is going to have some information they're going to ask for by protocol and probably the option to drill down on some of it if clarification is needed. If you spend five paragraphs explaining your last answer, it delays getting other pertinent information.
Do not launch into a speech, part the second. You don't call 911 for things that happened last week, or even yesterday. Tell me the emergency that is happening right now. Ideally in one sentence. If someone is having a medical issue, and you call 911 about it, when the calltaker asks exactly what happened, do not tell them about how the patient had a surgery 5-and-a-half weeks ago. You called 911. What is the emergency that is happening right now. Don't be telling me about their surgery when the problem you called about is a broken leg. Yes, the surgery may have led to generalized loss of balance that has yet to return which caused the patient to fall which caused them to break their leg. Understood. But you didn't call because of all of that. You called because of the broken leg. Apply this principle to all emergencies.
Don't launch into a speech, part the third. When asked a specific and direct question, do not give an explanation instead of an answer. If the calltaker asks you "Is the weird person on the side of the road actually in the lanes of traffic?" do not explain to them how it's a very narrow roadway (see parenthesis for the story here). Aside from the fact that we're not asking these questions to be funny (see part the second), there's also the fact that now you are coming over as suspicious as hell. If I asked "how did that person on Facebook know what this supposedly missing kid is wearing and where he's going to be at 3:00 today?" and you say "well Facebook is a good way to spread information" I am now extremely suspicious of you.
(Also an actual call I have taken. The man was a totally ordinary guy out for a walk to the store, but this blue collar man walked through a Rich Person Neighborhood™ and according to Lady Catherine De Bourgh on the phone with me, that merited a call to the police. When I asked her if he was actually in the lanes of traffic [traffic hazard call type] versus not [suspicious person call type, on a technicality but technically...], she tried explaining three times that the road was narrow before she finally got the message that I was not going to stop asking until she told me the actual answer and answered "Well, I suppose so, yes." At this point, because she'd been so reluctant to answer me, I no longer believed the man actually was in the lanes of traffic and to this day believe that she lied to try and manipulate the police into a stronger-level response than was actually warranted. Because determining whether she was lying for sure is beyond the scope of my job, I put down what she said, but I didn't believe then and still don't believe now, that she told the truth. The totally ordinary and probably very nice guy was not arrested or hassled at all and was instead given a courtesy ride to the store.)
Be prepared to describe relevant people, maybe including yourself, and that includes race. If you have an asthma attack at a football game, the medics need to know how to find you in a crowd. If you are a black woman, that's gonna rule out everyone who isn't that. If you are a black woman wearing a yellow shirt, blue jeans, and a blue bandana over your hair, that excludes nearly everybody and when the medics arrive, they'll know exactly who to look for. Most of the time, someone's race isn't relevant information. When describing someone to emergency services, it absolutely is and it is not racist to accurately describe the relevant person or people.
There are more tips in the world, and I may come back to this post and add them as they occur to me. In the meantime, please enjoy this short treatise on how to call 911.
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wellntruly · 1 year
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M*A*S*H - Viewguide, S5
Are you interested in the long-running anti-war situation tragicomedy M*A*S*H (1972-1983), but there are simply so many asterisks and so many episodes?
Well I can’t help you with the asterisks, but nor can I help myself: I started watching all 11 seasons of M*A*S*H, and bringing back for you my viewing selections, chosen for The Qualities.
— — —
This season overall I'd say feels kind of, mild? Less low lows and less high highs. Just middley. I nearly included one episode almost wholly for the appeal of being maybe 75% set at night (something I would do), and secondly for the appeal of Hawkeye sleepwalking, when he's not waking from nightmares. But it's very I'll say "Season 5" in that despite this, it's just, I don't know somehow milder than I might want, especially when this set-up naturally recalls the much odder and eerier 'Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde' from Season 2, with (and possibly even because of) its spikier swings between the antic and traumatic.
But it happened that a lot of the stronger stuff here lent itself to putting together something of a more focused character collection. So welcome to our Special Issue!, highlighting the previously maybe somewhat under-served Major Margaret Houlihan, and Captain BJ Hunnicutt:
M*A*S*H - Season 5 Recommended sequence
5x03 ‘Margaret’s Engagement’ - So fun to me that Margaret & Frank transitioning from “secret” lovers to “secret” exes is somehow the exact same mood while having the opposite content. Ending comes out of nowhere and on a pretty weak joke, but when it's just Hawkeye & BJ lounging on each other on Margaret’s bed as she hops around showing them her goofy little engagement ring, that’s the Margaret & The Boys ‘Silly Mood’ vibes I've been missing, baby. Loretta Swit is back!
5x06 ’The Nurses’ - This one made me cry??? It was written and directed by women. It’s about women having complex relationships with each other. Bechdel Test smashed, only took us four seasons! 
5x08 ‘Dear Sigmund’ - It's the context here that really has me like, haha totally. This is the first episode they’ve let Alan Alda write all himself in three calendar seasons, and he's like great, okay: can I just get down nothing but a bunch of character meta and headcanons for everyone and put that up as TV? Yeah Victor Hugo that sounds wild, please do.
5x09 ‘Mulcahy’s War’ - Father Mulcahy goes out to the front to experience the horrors (more), but amazingly the real reason I'm including this one is that Gary Burghoff’s distressed little straight man hilarity here made me laugh so, so much, and then have a staggering realization: the character of Radar O'Reilly is absolutely the progenitor of Guillermo de la Cruz.
5x10 ‘The Korean Surgeon’ - Would be worth it for Hawkeye & BJ talking to Radar in the mess tent ALONE (Gary Emmy-winning year). But also I love their kind weary surgeon friend from ~the other side~
5x15 ‘The Most Unforgettable Characters’ - At 10 minutes in I'd thought, alright this is probably just another middle sort of one, and then at 10 minutes and 30 seconds, BJ (BJ, baby??!) spontaneously proposes that he and Hawkeye spend the rest of the episode play-acting that they're fighting to entertain Frank for his birthday, inspiring Barbara Kruger four years later to go, y'know what, I'm gonna have to comment on this.
5x19 ‘Hanky Panky’ - You tell me “BJ episode where he cheats on his wife,” and I’m going to say, “hm well that’s not the kind of character development I think I want,” but I would be wrong about that! A) love her, she's great in this, B) there is one particular revelation BJ shares here that is just, exquisite information. I will say no more at this juncture (Watch Notes: Coming soon!), but in light of oh, a lot: oh my god.
5x25 ‘Margaret’s Marriage’ - Let’s bookend this! One thing I love about long episodic seasons, is that after Margaret somehow ever more hilariously saying the name ‘Lieutenant Colonel Donald Penobscott’ for 22 episodes, the man finally appearing felt like forbidden Beckett. 
And also now say bye-bye, Frank [chorus: bye-bye, Frank!]
Season 1 • Season 2 • Season 3 • Season 4 • Season 5 • To be continued
#M*A*S*H hours
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cowboyjen68 · 2 years
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Hi Jen, I was hoping I could get some advice! I'm a butch lesbian, and I like one of my femme coworkers who is single and around my age. She seems to like me too, and even called me cute the other day. She also told me that purple is my color and when I wear it she compliments me on it. She remembers little details about me that I've mentioned; the only thing is is that she doesn't text me back even if she's on her phone all the time. I'm trying to get a feel for whether she likes me back, but it's hard to tell the difference between women just being kind and women flirting. Do you have any ideas about what could be flirting and what could be just being nice, especially from a femme to a butch? Thanks!
A few years ago I would have said don't date or ask anyone you work with out because it can cause awkward or even unbearable work conditions for both of you HOWEVER, my mind has changed and here is why.
These days finding love, or even connection with another human, especially in the lesbian dating world is way harder than finding a few job. Jobs are plentiful, femmes you are attracted to are not. And we spend a majority of our "social" time at work. Work is a quite acceptable place to meet and befriend others as adults. Nowhere else do we have the ability to be around another group of people as often as when we are at work. 40 plus hours is more than many of us spend engaging family or friends off of our phone.
I am a firm believer in being clear and direct while also being respectful. Ask her AFTER you clock out or out of work. Not when a shift is about to start or when you are clocked in. Just ask "I like you, would you consider going on a date with me?". Use "date", form it as a question she can answer yes or no to and know exactly what she is consenting to or turning down. DON'T add things like "it is okay if you say no" or "it is fine if you don't want to". This is wishy washy and sounds like you are expecting a "no" which might make her wonder why.
If she says "no" be respectful. "Thanks for being honest, I am glad I asked so I know the anwer" or "Ok. friends it is". It might be, probably will be, awkward for a few days but it will fade and then you can enjoy the friendship knowing where you stand. There is no reason to spend time and energy trying to decifer every action and word. Butches are great and we have many talents but mind reader is not one of them.
Some people are just terrible texters and prefer in person communication. When she is on her phone it is perhaps her "check out" time. Scrolling TikTok or watching videos etc and texting is effort she doesn't want to think about or do.
I completely agree that telling the difference if a femme is flirty by nature or flirting with me in particular is a monumental, if not impossible task. That is why I ask. My last girlfriend had to come right out and say "this is me flirting with you and you can flirt back, I like you". Otherwise we might have never got beyond her attempts to get me to take a step into dating her. We would still be circling each other. LOL
Many femmes are almost expected to make the first move because butches are clear and visible lesbians and it can be a bit risky for a butch to assume a femme is a femme, even great gaydar can get it wrong sometimes and as butches we never want to offend or make a woman uncomfortable. She might be lobbing signals at you to let you know you can ask her out or that she is interestd. From her point of veiw, it might be nice if SHE was asked out for once.
If she says "yes' you get to go on a date and see if there is chemistry. Be honest with yourself and her if there is not and go from there. If she says "no" you can stop wasting energy on the idea and move to friendship. Either way you are ahead of where you are now which is wondering and guessing.
Good luck!
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yueasuka · 9 months
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Written for Adrien August @adrienaugust for the prompt Rain
Him and Adrien chilling and playing games? He would never imagine it before. Not with him still have complicated feelings toward his 'replica'. But the world seems to have other plan.
Company, huh… He mused as he saw Adrien run back down and prepare the game while making himself comfortable on the sofa. Maybe we can be each other company for once.
So it wasn't a mistake. Ladybug did tell the world the twisted truth instead of the whole truth because she believed Adrien would be sad if he were to know about the truth and that was what was best for him.
'So please, Chat Noir, don't tell him.'
'What if I do then? What are you going to do if I tell him the truth?'
'I… I'll take your miraculous.'
'Take it if you can, I'd like to see you try.'
The look of horror on her face after he said that was priceless. He was sure that she didn't think she would call her bluff. The next thing she said though, wasn't a bluff.
'I'll protect Adrien no matter what. Not even you can stop me.'
And she really meant it, if by the way her blue eyes blazed with determination. He used to love that looks on her. The confidence, the determination and her willingness to protect others selflessly. But this was different, because no matter how she convinced herself to believe it, the lie that she said was nowhere near to a selfless category. It wasn't selfless sacrifice, it was an attempt to control. Something that reminds him a lot of his father how eerily similar their mindset was.
"I mean, the sign was already there." He muttered to no one in particular as he sat on the rooftop. "I'm guardian this, I'm guardian that." He scoffed. "As if I care about it."
Except he did care, once. He only stops caring about her 'guardian speech' after she uses it way too many times just for her convenience. It had lost meaning in his ears and he stops caring after that.
But he wondered if she would really take his miraculous if he were to tell Adrien the truth.
"She probably would." Again, he muttered to himself.
Because when Adrien was in her mind, she would do anything for him. The incident with Volpina was just one of the example. The whole snake thing with Desperada was next and didn't she lose the miraculous because she thought she gave it to Adrien? Yeah, when it came to Adrien, she priorities him way too much that it ate her whole braincells that he was pretty sure she'd take his miraculous if it meant to protect Adrien.
Protect him from who, exactly? From his own emotions and feelings? That was ridiculous, so ridiculous that he couldn't help but laugh drily. A being made from emotion needs protection from the very thing he is created from.
"That was ironic."
He wasn't sure how long he had stayed on this rooftop, probably long enough, because there, across the street was Adrien Agreste, waving his hand at him and… Pointed up?
(And that was when he realised that he had been sitting on this rooftop, mulling over the conversation he had with Marinette earlier, he wasn't even aware that he had been going to the direction of the mansion, the place that he had been avoiding ever since he knew he was being replaced)
He blinked spontaneously when a drop of water fell from the grey cloud, and soon it started to pour.
He was about to get off the rooftop if it weren't for Adrien's voice calling for him and he approached the open window with a single leap, surprised the only occupant in the room.
That makes both of us then.
Because he never ever thought he'd step on this window again, not unless there was an akuma. But here he was, perching on the windowsill while looking at the person that looked so much like him and different at the same time.
Looking at Adrien like this makes him wonder if he would look anything like him had he didn't get kidnapped. A golden hair that was combed neatly in contrast to his wild darker blond, green eyes that shone so brightly in contrast to his dull ones and neat designer clothes instead of… Whatever he could find in the sale.
He wasn't jealous of him though, because he had been through isolation before and if he were to regress again, he knew he wouldn't trade his freedom for those expensive things, or even fame. It didn't mean he wasn't jealous of him for having longer time with his mother though.
"What do you call me for?"
He saw Adrien's flinching and he realised how annoyed his tone was. Poor guy would probably thinking I was annoyed at him.
"Sorry,I had a bad day. Let's redo it." He said before he cleared his throat. "Is there something that I can help you with?" He asked, hoping his tone this time was civil enough. Because no matter how upset he was at Maribug, he shouldn't leashed out at him. Not when he was as much as a victim as everyone else.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I'm just wondering if you'd like to stay since the rain doesn't seem to be stopping soon."
And he was right, the rain had become heavier the moment he leaped to his window, much to his dismay. There goes his plan to stroll around to get off the steam.
"You know, we can… Play a game if you want to?"
"Huh?" Now, the offer definitely caught him off guard. Because he never remembered to have any kind of relationship with him, if anything, he always tried to have little to no contact with Adrien, so the offer definitely felt out of the blue.
"Or not," he quickly added and he wasn't sure why he looked so defeated while he said it. The look that he's really familiar with because he'd make that look whenever his father would cancel his promise with him. "Just… Nevermind. But you need to get in though. It won't be good if you catch a cold."
Now that he finally let himself look much closer, Adrien himself didn't look good. It was nowhere near his usual poster boy looks. His hair maybe as neat as ever, but there was something else in his eyes that he hadn't seen before : sorrow and it dawned on him that no matter what the media said, no matter how biassed his feelings toward him, at this moment, he was just a teenager who was just lost his father and probably need company more than ever. Not only that his room was so dark and as neat as he remembered, there was no change being made from how he remembered it to be before he got kidnapped. The room is always too big for him and always makes him feel lonely.
Perhaps that was why he asked him to come in then, because he was hoping for company and why he decided to come instead of stay away like he always did.
Because he knew very well what loneliness feels like, how it could eat you whole.
"Right, having a cold is never nice." He said before he finally leaped to the ground.
"So… A game."
"Eh?" His head perked up at that and he could see a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
"You ask me if I want to play a game."
"Oh, right I did!" He said with a beamed smile before he ran toward his table and took of his console from it. "What game do you want to play? Ultimate Mecha Strike?"
"Hmm… I want to have a bit of chaos today." He said while tapping his chin.
"Chaos?"
"Yep. You have a lot of controllers, right?"
"I have. Why?" "Let's play Bishi Bashi then."
He said with a grin.
"Ooh!! Yeah, I'll take the CD. Please wait a moment." He said before he ran up to find the old CDs.
Company, huh… He mused as he saw Adrien run back down and prepare the game while making himself comfortable on the sofa. Maybe we can be each other company for once.
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nono-bunny · 4 months
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Thoughts on the last two episode of the Gokushufudo live action (and some other bonus general stuff now that I'm done with the show)
It was... A very weird deviation from the original premise and it didn't work too well imo, mostly just because of how out of place it felt. Don't get me wrong, I watched the last one while eating dinner and I literally cried all over my pasta anyway, but like. Even the "reveal" was weak, which is weird because the story is already basically just based around these misunderstanding bait and switches so?? Idk ig they aren't as good at making original ones- point in case being these two episodes which were all just original stories and felt completely wrong for what the show is. Idk, I guess focusing on drama and high emotion stuff just doesn't really work here. The addition of Yukari and Sakai HAVE proven that the people working on this adaptation were capable of making some great unique additions to the original story so. Idk
Anyway the whole show is very different in one crucial detail: people here seem actually aware of Tatsu's past as compared to the anime where everyone is mostly just scared of his vibe. It isn't like, a good or bad thing, it just ended up really changing some of the dynamics, which I guess is kind of necessary here with a more permanent recurring cast than just... A bunch of random animated characters that can be voiced by whoever. I really liked Tanaka for example! In the anime Tatsu has like, a whole bunch of different housewife friends and I really liked that here there's just the one badass and her slightly more timid friend- which?? I feel like it didn't start off as Tanaka and this one particular friend but they narrowed it down to mostly the two of them, which works, they're both cool and it was nice seeing her attitude towards Tatsu change
Tbh the Masa abuse really fucking got on my nerves, it's funny at the start but like. It genuinely got excessive and uncomfortable, I just... Don't even really like Eguchi and Hibari as much at this point and it's a lot to do with their attitude towards him, it was wholly unnecessary and they both obviously had other things going on so I don't know why they decided that focusing on a "yes honey" dynamic was the comedic direction that they're gonna focus on. They're honestly a disaster couple lol
There was a lot of focus on getting Tatsu back to the Yakuza which?? Feels super weird to me considering they've established it's been two years since he left, why now? Why are they all still bothering him? It was strange and the show was definitely at its best whenever they weren't focusing on the Yakuza stuff- since that's literally what the OG premise is, and why it's so beloved... Idk it really felt at times like it's trying to tell the story of Tatsu's life shortly after leaving but. It's been two years, and it just doesn't work. Same with the Himawari drama, it was all obviously forced and a bit out of nowhere (also wtf I hated seeing him hit her) and idk not that fun to watch when compared to them just riffing on Tatsu being weird yet ultimately accepted, y'know?
Anyway, despite all of my gripes here, this was genuinely a great adaption overall!! I just... Think the ending was really weak and weirdly completely out of tune compared to the rest of it so. I'm glad it isn't the end and that there's a special and a movie!
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boogiewuu · 1 year
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Fortune's drop
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This is a part of the backstory of one of my obey me oc, Desdemona, an angel with cursed eyes who soon will completely change her life.
Tw: mentioning of blood, gore, dead people
Please, remember that this is an Original Character's backstory, nothing here is canon.
I'm sorry for the grammar errors you might find but English isn't my first language.
You can find the complete cover post drawing here if you want to check out some drawings about it
«remember this...»
Why there are so many voices? What's happening out there?... I can feel the floor trembling under my feet... the cold wind crashing on me behind my back like an upcoming storm, this the first time I could feel this here in the Celestial Realms.
«...for any reason...»
My lungs are taking less oxygen by the time... Why my hands are shaking so much? The pressure on my body is pushing me down.
«...you must tell...»
Am I sick? Am I about to die? Is this the moment when your life is taken away from your own body?
«...that you're blind.»
.
.
.
For all my life, I was forced to wear a mask, or a "crown of vision" like my father said to me the first time I had to put it on. No light could go through the thin and metallic layer of that angelic artefact. Why do I wear this? Father said so... And he explicitly said I can't take it off, under any circumstances, my eyes must be hidden from the world. I don't know why... Back then, I was too little to understand the horrible faith my life was twisted on. I don't even know how I look, or how my family look because for it. I just know I have a very long hair because Mother loves to comb them for me, probably she even made me some strange yet angelic hairstyle multiple times without even got the chance to see that.
I hate this.
I hate all of this.
For all this lie, I can't have many friends. I met some angels who were kind to me and tried to make me more comfortable with my condition... but I always felt horrible, useless... I wasn't complete. How can I have friends if I can't even know how they look like? I can't see, so I can't fly like all the angels do or swim... How frustrating is it. I could hear their wings flapping in the sky while playing... And I was there on the ground, in silence. I was living a loop... From the minute I was awake to the moment I was asleep, because all the angels had one particular job... But what job could have a blind angel of fortune when there is another one who was actually able to see? When I tried to talk about it to Mother and Father, they said I shouldn't care about it... They could be my friends... I had already my twin who I can play with.
I'm feeling like another bird on a cage.
One day, something different happened, a break in the loop. There was too many strange sounds in the distance, so I tried to reach the source of it but, out of nowhere, an hand grab mine firmly and pull me on the opposite of my direction. «Follow me!! I got you!! Don't take off your mask!!» the person kept yelling... It was my brother's voice. I couldn't stand behind his steps... We both started to running but he should be my eyes for see the safer path, but he was just... Scared... So his priority was survive, running as fast as possible...but I kept falling on the ground. I could sense the angelic aura of my brother growing... He's been trying to use the magic to protect us but seems like both my fortune and his aren't helping like it should be...
Interesting.
I didn't knew emotions like this could ever exist... The nerves running down your spine... The drops of sweat mixing with the dust painting your hot face... And the new sounds were something else too. I kept heard many times breaking sounds of all the type you could even imagine... I believe there were even the cuts of visceral material too. I could smell something burning like meat and wood. I could heard screams but they weren't joyful and the heavy breathing of many people... The splitting sound of some liquid crashing on some surfaces and the finals drops. Something surely was happening. All of this was new to me...
And my curiosity kept me hunger for new sensations.
But my brother doesn't want me to go where the sounds come from... I wonder why?
Aren't these sounds amazing? Why my brother wanted me to cover my ears and pretend I didn't heard a thing? They are so different from the usual stuff...
...why my brother was acting like Father? Why I can't see? And why I'm the only one who has the eyes covered? That's not fair at all!!
My head was spinning... I think I was still running, but all these questions about the forbidden stuff was taking control over my thoughts...my lungs were killing me and I could hear my heartbeat speeding up, I could feel it in my chest. I hit something with my feet and I felt faceplate on the ground... I searched the warm hand of Madoc, calling him back... But there was no response. I didn't have enough strength for get myself up, so I stand there like I was sleeping. My skin could feel the soft leaves landing on the floor and the wind come back running through my hair.
I was outside? I could hear them, the angels screaming and the clicking of the metallic weapons... And I was there, landing on the grass, with a weak body, vulnerable.
After some time, I took back my stamina and managed to stand up on my bare feet, waving my arms around to feel the nearest obstacles but I was in an empty zone... But where? I felt a warm liquid falling on my face, wetting my skin. What is it? I touched the tear with the index and put it under the nose... It doesn't have a smell. I tried to put it on the top of the tongue... It tasted sweet yet nothing came up to my knowledge. I tried to follow the trace with the fingers and there it is. A burning pain on the skin on my forehead but my fingers where full of that sweet liquid. My finger was barely touching a cut who seems incredibly huge... My face was half covered with it...
Blood.
Oh dear Lord... My tongue tasted my own blood? Angels shouldn't even touch or see the blood, and look at what I did!! Oh, if Father would've see me, I was easily grounded for the rest of my immortal life!!
Wait... My Father isn't here, no one is here except me. I was lost and alone, if everyone was running then there's must be a danger near us... I need to run...
I need to see.
My hands shakily took the corner of the metallic mask... My heart pounding on and on. My first time see the world where I lived until now...
I have to... Or I won't be able to survive
The mask went slowly separated from the bandages over my eyes and drop it on the ground making a little jingle with the pebbles behind the leaves. I'll finally be able to see everybody...
I started to unwrapped the many layers of the dirty bandages, full of dust, blood and sweat.
That's it. Now, the only thing between the world and my eyes were the eyelids. Nothing more, nothing less.
.
.
.
The bright light of the sun blinded me for a second. My eyes were never need exposed my the light like this... I had a hard time to make them get used to, but was worth it. The world was beautiful... All the colours I only could learn weren't just words!! Ohhh I'm dreaming!! The sky was full of dark clouds, making less light going through, white feathers were falling like snow and cover all the ground around me. I looked at my hands with my own blood stained on, painting my caramel skin with a dark red.
So this is the world I've been living on for thousands of years!! Why everybody tried to hide this from me??
I heard again that melodic screams on the distance... I ended up searching with my eyes. Look up. In that gray sky there were other angels with their golden bright armor and their weapon on their hands.
They were covered with red, their armor, their weapon, their skins... Even those beautiful white feathers on the wings had blood stinks.
Angels don't attack or hurt other creatures... But that blood surely wasn't their.
I was petrified... The world was always like this? That would explain why Father and my brother tried to keep me away though.
The Angels were up to me, they took a big opening of the wings and then down, targeting me with a surreal velocity, I couldn't move... My eyes were locked on them.
They seems so determined...
I'm about to die, aren't I?
The world become soundless. The spears of the two angels were one feet close to me, yet the world seems so slow... I wonder why.
The Angels were looking at me, directly in my eyes... They had an peculiar expression, a mix of surprise and pain, yet they were looking be enchanted by the meeting of our eyes.
My lungs were running off oxygen, it was hard to breathe, blood were running down their nose, then their mouth... but that gaze weren't going away. I could feel a shock down my spine, my hands shaking again and my facial muscles reacts, I couldn't help but softly smiles and that view. They were petrified like statues, their pupils disappeared, trembling under the layer of tears. I could heard the crackling sound of their jaws opened willing to screaming until their vocal cords would be tore apart.
That twisted expression... I never knew a creature could have such an expressive face. The time looked frozen but I knew this was just my perspective... Their body hardly avoided me, crashing on the floor with enough force to destroy the splendid grass near us. They painted the ground with a scarlet red and that wet breaking sounds again... But in a combo. They turned red and purple... But I couldn't help but notice the broken bones coming out the skin like spines...weird. They looked in pain... But right now, their body was twisted like an origami.
They're no longer alive, that's for sure.
The noises, the screams... That chaos never stopped in the distance. They were full of rage and fear, I could feel the fear in those... But they were full of life and colours too,and that was new.
A twisted way to show everybody that they were alive, and God only knows they will fight for that life with teeth and claws.
Those voices, oh I recognize those voices... My friends were living this moment against everybody else. They were fighting not only to survive... But to live too. To be free. Free like me.
I wasn't alone to feel this way, huh?i my gray sky... I couldn't fly so I had to help on the other half... but the curiosity and the fun was taking me over. Those angels understand my will... They'll having so much fun
I must join... I will join.
.
.
.
I kept repeating me those words... I was covered in all the shades or red the blood could take, I wasn't trained for battle so of course I couldn't survive without having several cuts. My spear was severely damaged by all the angels' bones I destroyed, my clothes were all ruined too, if I knew angelic clothes were this uncomfortable for fighting, I would change it many years ago. Angels couldn't recognize me, but one look and I'll found them dead on the ground like they've been in overdose.
So, the curse on my eyes was really this bad? A common folk you would stare at them for too long, they died in a pot of blood?
I was taking deep breaths, while my hand was covering a bloody cut on my shoulder, I was controlling around me and then I saw that scene...
Two angels, flying towards themselves... The bigger angel had ginger and short hair while the smallest had blue hair with some white hair on the bottom of them. The ginger one was flying holding the blue one, but the other angels was standing an hand on the back of the big one. When I looked on the same direction on the angel's hand, I noticed something else. It was a girl, flying near them... But the second I was watching, that same girl was hitting in the back, falling on the void like a dead bird.
And I was there... Watching in silence that scene.
She wasn't even fighting... And yet, she was hit by this war, and that same girl was falling into the void like she deserves it. How many angels had the same faith of that girl?
I couldn't move a single muscle... What a bad timing to stay there and think.
An enemy took me from behind, I woke up form the shocked and we ended up fighting. He had a Dagger and I had my cursed eyes. I got stabbed many times, but I managed to block his head with my hands and forced it to watch my eyes. Soon enough, he was screaming and vomit blood, but loosing the balance was a fatal act.
His body pressed me down, until we both fall from the edge of the clouds. My face turned pale as we were falling... I took off of me that body and tried to use my wings to reach the surface, but nothing was worth it. More we were going down, more speed we acquired... It was an endless fall, the air was burning my lungs. I couldn't breathe, the pressure was crashing me... My wings couldn't take this. An excruciating pain was hitting my back!! My wings!! I could feel them unravelling my skin... I couldn't hear anything, not even my screams and my cries. I could feel my skin burning, my halo were melting on my face.
All of this couldn't happen If I didn't took off my mask... I shouldn't been fight with those angels, it wasn't non of my business. My friends... Are they dead? I didn't hear them anymore... And I'm going to do the same.
Did I deserve it?
.
.
.
I lost consciousness for who knows how much days or years, I was rotting in the deepest seabed. I didn't know how I was alive or where am I... But something was telling me "someone had other plans for me." Something grabbed my arm and pulled me up, reaching the surface. When I was feeling the ground again, I put my face on the ground, starting to coughing, let the water free my lungs. «where am I?» the only thing I could say. An unfamiliar voices started to talk to me «you're in the Devildom, the reign of demons. You're lucky to be alive.» says the voice. It was a deep male voice, one of that voices you can hear trembling inside you, and I doubt it was an angel...
«Are you... going to kill me?» I asked, trembling, making the demon laughed «I can... but why should I do that?» he asked, but I couldn't reply «what's your name, fallen angel» «...I have no longer a name...» I reply, I know my name... But why should I keep using that name? «...then, how the others angel used to call you?» «The Fortune's pearl... I used to bring good luck» I whispered with a low profile «looks like your luck didn't make it... you looks more of a misfortune demon» commented the demon, I felt a touch on the back «what happened to your wings and your eyes?» asked in a low voice, I let out a single gasp «I... lost my wings during the fall. And for your safety, I need to cover my eyes.» the demon didn't reply, but I felt a strip of cloth on my face, that startle me for a moment, but as soon as I felt my eyes been covered, I slowly high my head towards the demon and thank him «...You're a demon now, you're under my responsibility. Come with me so we can heal you from your wounds» says the demon «for now on, you'll be Desdemona... the misfortune's pearl.» a little giggle escaped from my mouth, a little tear goes on my cheeks, I'm finally worth it for a job
«seems like you really have plans for me...»
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