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lokilickedme · 3 years

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Somebody help me chill, this is insane.

(under the cut because long and also pretty traumatic, for me at least)

Crazy neighbor, remember her? Her son destroyed a piece of equipment we had attached to one of our trees at the fenceline last week, she denied it and called us insane liars - that’s the most recent craziness in the ongoing saga of the neighbor from hell. I was sitting here reading my dash tonight and happened to glance over at the monitor for the surveillance camera husband got me the other day to watch that exact spot (where the equipment was smashed) and guess who I see bent over looking through the fence peering very closely at that exact spot? Neighbor’s equally insane son, who we know did the actual dirty work. And I, stupid like I am, took a screenshot of him and then immediately jumped up and ran outside in the dark in my pajamas (nearly 9pm, pitch black, their porch light is off because obviously they’re doing something they don’t want to be seen doing) and I ask “Excuse me, what are you doing?”

This lunatic immediately starts SCREAMING at me - I mean top of his lungs SCREAMING abusive threats, calling me a stupid psycho whore bitch, yelling at me to get my ass back in my house and generally just acting completely off his rocker unhinged nuts - and then his mother comes out and comes over to the fence and gets in my face while I’m just standing there and tells me to mind my own business. I say I am minding my business, I saw him looking through the fence at my property right where we had vandalism happen last week so I came out to find out why he’s interested in my property. She laughed in my face and said “No he wasn’t, he was standing right here looking at his phone like this” and she does this little pantomine of someone looking at their phone, which is funny because she wasn’t out there when he was doing it and there are no windows on that side of her house at all. I ignored her and asked “What are you looking for?” He kept screaming incoherent animal noises and insults from behind her so I asked again, “What are you looking for?” And that crazy woman grinned at me and said “We’re just looking to see what kind of new devices you’ve installed!”

OMG. She didn’t even take a breath in between lying and then contradicting her own lie. And she’s grinning smugly at me the entire time, gesturing around pointing at our property cams and mosquito light (it flashes and apparently she thinks it’s watching her) and my bedroom window - which means she’s been snooping. There is a cam sitting in my windowsill, aimed at the spot where the device was smashed. Every bit of this equipment is on our property, some of it behind a privacy fence. I tell her it’s none of her business what kind of devices we’ve got on our property, but she just yammers over me, and of course numbskull is still ranting like a psycho behind her, screaming at me to mind my own business and get back in my house and leave them alone. At this point he’s pulled out his phone and shoved it over her shoulder toward my face and is recording me, which is just...fucking hilarious...because I’m literally doing nothing but standing there in shock and awe at how nuts these people are, and he’s still screaming abusive curses and names at me while he’s recording.

Anyway, for about 4.5 minutes we stood there with them shouting over me (I know the exact time because it was later discovered that our doorbell cam recorded audio of the entire event) and a little ways into it he screams “I WILL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!!”

At this point psycho woman finally turns around and says “Addison Case!” and pushes him back. He lunges at me and she tells him to go call the police (??what?? I mean...I wish he had...my phone was in my hand frozen solid, locked up because of the glitchy surveillance app I had to install to see the camera, or else I would have called them myself - but my god they really thought I was the one the cops needed to come for??). Meanwhile I’m just standing there on my own property in the dark in my pajamas, all 5 feet and 120 lbs of me, while this rabid animal - he’s a 21 year old college boy - is lunging at me and screaming nonstop, calling me a fucking whore bitch loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear it while his phone’s camera light is in my face blinding me. Crazy lady smiles that smug shit eating grin of hers and tells me to get back in my house, leave her alone, and move the hell away so she can live in peace.

Wow. Just...holy shit.

This is the person who has allowed her dog to attack my very small 8 year old son on our property and send him to the hospital with injuries last year, then attempt to attack him again 2 weeks ago (he is now 9 at the time of the second attack) - again on our own property (in our back yard this time, in our front yard the first time), has allowed her dogs (multiple) to bark all night long and keep us awake (she leaves them outside and then goes away for the weekend and they bark the entire time she’s gone), then she had her crazy violent son destroy the BarkBox we put in our tree on our side of the fence last week (we put it up as a humane way to get the barking to stop without having to listen to her call us insane liars every time we complain about it). Yet...she kept repeating over and over and over for us to leave her alone and stop harassing her.

All I could even do was stand there shaking my head. It was surreal. And frustrating, because they wouldn’t even let me get a word out without screaming over me, and she was doing that infuriating Karen thing where they shove their hand at your face and grin smugly while they’re telling you what you better do or they’ll call someone to make you.

I actually started laughing, it was so ludicrous. She’s committed all those vile offenses against us and we’re the ones that need to leave her alone. We’ve had to file four police reports against her and we’re the ones that are making her life miserable. I just can’t stop thinking about that Liar Liar movie where the repeat offender keeps calling his lawyer to complain that the cops won’t stop arresting him and the lawyer finally yells THEN STOP BREAKING THE LAW ASSHOLE!!

It’s just like that. My god.

SO -

She tells him to call the police again, and this limp dick shoves that phone light right up to my face and says “You think she’s worth calling the cops over? Look at her, she don’t look worth it to me.” And bitch starts laughing. My god, these people are subhuman, I swear. I’ve never seen anyone act like this in my life, over a person doing literally nothing to them.

So she finally orders her rabid son (who is just about foaming at the mouth, I swear he’s making these barking animal noises at me, it’s weird as hell) into the house and they walk away, with him still ranting like a madman until the door closes behind them. I immediately go inside my own house and call my husband, who was way out at the back of our property in our camper (he self quarantines each day after work out there to protect us because there have been a lot of covid cases at his workplace) and he didn’t know anything was happening. He immediately runs up to the house and I tell him I caught neighbor’s thug son messing around at our fence and that when I went out he threatened to kill me.

Tom grabs something - I don’t even know what it was, I think it was this piece of board that was sitting by the door, we’ve done a shelving project recently and a couple of leftover pieces have been there for a few days - and he stalks outside toward neighbor’s house. I hear him yell COME OUT HERE BOY!!! and I stg you guys, if I wasn’t on the phone calling 911 I might have thought about getting naked right there and then because damn.

So anyway, let’s not go there. This is serious by god lol (look for this to show up in a fic soon though because material like this doesn’t get handed to you for free every day).

I call 911 and say the neighbor’s son just threatened my life and for them to come quick because he’s still over there but I know he’s going to leave any second (this is his mom’s M.O, the two times the police have tried to go talk to her she gets in her car and leaves before they can get from my house to hers, and I know he’ll do the same because COWARDS). Tom comes back and says the little pussywillow wouldn’t come out of the house. He’s breathing fire, you guys. Pure fucking fire. I tell 911 to get somebody out quick before the kid leaves, and just about 2 minutes after I hang up he does just that - we see him blast past our house in his truck and he’s gone, and then the police arrive about 3 minutes after. I’m so mad I can’t see straight. If they’d been able to see him in the state he was in, they’d have arrested him on sight.

Two squad cars (big SUV’s) pull up and block her driveway with full lights flashing, which makes me laugh because suddenly we’ve got neighbors coming outside to see what’s going on. I meet the officers outside, and the crazy bitch next door does the same, yelling “Hello Officer!” and waving to them as they’re coming up to my porch.

They talk to me and Tom for a long time, I tell them everything that happened, they interview Big (he and Little were inside the open door and heard it all), we fill out our statements and talk with them more until one officer goes next door to talk to neighbor. We can hear her dripping her fake sugar and spice while they’re talking on her porch and my husband loses his shit - he heads toward her house and yells “We got the entire thing on recording, don’t even try to lie! Your kid, threatening to kill my wife?!?” (he’s referring to the camera in my bedroom window, which actually only recorded about 2 minutes because I don’t have it set up correctly yet, but they don’t know that). The officer yells at him to get back, which, yeah - he shouldn’t have done that, but for god’s sake the woman’s peckerhead son just literally threatened murder on a member of his family, this is the final fucking straw and he’s mad. And as he’s coming back across the yard the officer that stayed with me points at our new doorbell camera, just freshly installed as of about two weeks ago, and asks if it’s on. We haven’t even really figured out how to use it yet, but yes, as far as we know it’s on. The incident happened around the side of the house, but the doorbell records audio.

God bless technology.

I invite the officer inside the house and Tom gets his phone, pulls up the app for the doorbell, and starts skipping through the recording looking for the right timestamp. Up till this point all they have is me saying the guy screamed a lot of abusive profanities at me and threatened to tear my head off, and they’re taking me serious but probably not that serious, you know? Neighbors fight all the time, wars start over barking dogs, things get exaggerated, we’ve all seen the TV dramas.

Until Tom finds the segment on the footage and starts playing it to them on his phone. It’s kind of quiet because we were a good distance away, but you can hear the guy screaming just like I said he was. The officer asks if we have a speaker we can play it through so he can hear the words more clearly, because he needs proof of threat and that’s entirely in the words.

You guys, I’m tellin’ ya, sometimes you get a chance to fucking SHINE. My husband is a musician and this cop is asking him if he’s got a good speaker. So within minutes Tom’s got this huge venue-style amplifier designed for broadcasting music to the back wall of a freaking stadium pulled out into the livingroom and he’s hooking his phone up to it, and then he hits play and the other officer comes back from next door to join us and I can tell by the annoyed look on his face that neighbor bitch has likely charmed him and shed a plethora of persecuted tears and spewed her lies about how we’ve been harassing her forEVER and I think for a second that it’s a total loss now, he’s made his mind up in her favor.

And then...away we go. Tom cranks the volume on the speaker and they both lean in to listen closely.

Just about a minute into the recording they have their proof - thugnuts screaming I WILL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!!!

Both officers nod, close their notebooks, and the second officer makes a phonecall while the first one turns to me and says “That’s terroristic threatening and it’s a class C felony. You’re going to need to go to the PA’s office with all the reports you’ve filed against them so far and all your evidence from tonight including that recording and hand it all to them. They’re likely going to issue a no-contact so that he can’t interact with you ever again.”

This is a victory, but it’s just the first step, and I feel sickeningly disheartened that it’s all in my lap to do everything. I want them to go demand his whereabouts from his mother and just go get his ass and haul him in. But no, I have a ton of legwork to do now because these horrible people won’t fucking stop.

After several more minutes of me asking questions about what exactly we need to do and where we need to go, etc etc (I’m competent but I’m also fucking rattled, someone threatened to kill me tonight and I’m blanking hard on the instructions he’s giving me) they finally wrap it up and leave. They’ve been in my house for a half hour waiting for me to finish filling out the report (I had to ask for more paper because honey I’m getting ALL the details in there) and I can just imagine how freaked out neighbor is when she sees what time they finally move their cars from in front of her driveway.

And now I’m coming down from the weird calm that I had through the entire event, and my heart feels like it’s going to EXPLODE. I had heart surgery two months ago, do I need this?? The pathetic part is that I know now just how stupid those people are, and I know this won’t be the end from their side by any means. We’ll start finding more stuff broken, or he’ll start climbing over the fence back at the back of the property to steal stuff from husband’s tool shed, or my tires will get slashed. These people are that dumb and hateful, they proved it tonight. He said if we had animals he would kill them, and then he made the same threat against me. How stupid does a person have to be to stand there with his phone out recording himself ranting and making threats against a woman standing in her own yard in her pajamas? Big tough man there. And his mama grinning at me the whole time, telling me I’m crazy and she’s concerned for her own safety because of me, while her son is standing right behind her threatening my life.

I’m just...my god, I don’t even know what to think. I thought people only acted like this in TV dramas, seriously. I’ve seen some shit in my life but this particular brand of stupid has up till now evaded me, but now it’s been in my face and I’m sort of in shock.

I don’t like guns. At ALL. Tom has always had at least one hidden carefully away, safely locked up away from the house, but now there are two inside my house in immediate grabbing range. He insisted that I let him show me how to use them. Rules were laid down for the boys - never touch, never, don’t even get close to them - and now there is a box of shotgun shells on my fireplace mantel and a singleshot rifle by the door. I hate this so damn much.

Don’t pick it up unless you’re ready to use it, he told me. Without even thinking, I said back, “If I touch it it’s getting used.”

I HATE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH

My god. I told the cops that the drug lord that lived over there four years ago was a better neighbor than this woman. They didn’t even laugh.

I guess they’re right, now that I think about it...it isn’t funny.

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mmvalentine · 3 years

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The Pianist pt 4 | Jurdan

Modern AU. Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 5

Jude woke up with a bad taste in her mouth and cotton wool in her brain. She groaned, groped around on the night stand for her phone and had to look at the screen through one eye because the light hurt her.

Does Cardan wake up like this every day? Jude wondered. And if so, how was he not dead?

Cardan. Shit.

Jude had a vague memory of kissing Cardan at Locke's party, but she was not entirely sure that she hadn't dreamt it. Fuck it. Cardan had been with so many girls she very much doubted one drunk kiss at a party would even register for him. Jude refused to be embarrassed.

In fact she was pretty sure that what she was actually feeling was annoyance, since he a) had managed to get under her skin even though she absolutely didn’t want him there and hadn’t invited him and b) was now striking up some exercises on the piano that sounded like he was playing them on the inside of her skull. Since when did Cardan start anything before lunch?

Jude tried to roll over and go back to sleep. Luckily for her, this was her one day a week off from all three of her jobs. Unluckily for her, Cardan was only just getting started.

Twenty minutes later, there was a pause. Jude sighed her relief as the infernal exercises finally stopped- only for a furious Baroque piece to begin. “No no no no,” Jude yelled. She flung back her covers, still dressed in the black dress from the night before, with bed hair and yesterday’s makeup, and stalked out the door barefoot.

Through the fire door, up one flight of steps, and down the hall to Cardan’s flat. She hammered her fist on his front door.

"Cardan!" she barked. "Cardan you insufferable ass!"

The piano stopped, and before he could get to her she yanked the door handle. It was unlocked, and Jude opened the door to a very surprised Cardan who was himself just reaching for the knob.

"Jude?"

"Yes Jude, hello it’s me your downstairs fucking neighbour who cannot sleep through this racket!"

Cardan just stood and stared at her. Some quiet part of Jude’s mind was sure she looked like a madwoman, but the louder part ignored it and continued the tirade.

"I mean for fuck’s sake Cardan what do you have against sleep?" She flung the words at him. “You keep me up all through the night because you refuse to operate during daylight hours like a normal person, and then the one time I want to sleep in, the one time- Cardan do you know I never ever ever sleep in? And then this one time I think maybe I’ll just relax a little, here you are like you’ve got some kind of personal vendetta against me getting a full eight hours!"

She paused to draw breath, and still Cardan just stood there. It was infuriating.

"Well?" She demanded.

And then Cardan put both his hands around her face, and pulled her mouth to his.

The heat was instant. Jude burned up under it in for a second, then realised what was happening and cut the kiss off.

But Cardan was having none of that. He pulled her right back to him, and Jude did not have enough willpower to break away a second time. The shocking fever of it wiped out all logical thought and the next thing she knew she was folding her arms around his neck. Cardan wrapped his own around her waist, stooping a little to reach her and then pulling her up against his body. He took a step back and Jude let him lead her into his apartment, the door closing softly behind them.

Cardan moved his mouth against hers and when his tongue lashed out she was only too eager to meet it. She scraped her nails against his neck as his hands slid into the tangle of her hair.

Jude took another step forward, and Cardan backed into a lamp. It toppled over noisily, but he didn’t let her stop the kiss. Just moved them to the side, where Jude’s back hit a shelf and two books fell out. Cardan didn‘t seem to care at all. Pushed her further into the wall while his teeth found her bottom lip, and knocked a frame down as his hand hit the plaster behind her.

Jude tugged him closer at the waist, and returned every one of his kisses. She might have kept kissing him all day, he tasted so good, but then in between one breath and the next he whispered her name, and she realised.

She was making out with Cardan.

Jude shoved him away, hard, and stormed out the door without a word.

////

Cardan didn't see Jude for a week after that.

It was strange, they had been in each other's proximity for a long time now and not had a lot to do with each other but now, somehow, he was quite sure she was avoiding him.

He didn't know quite what to feel about that kiss.

In his defence, she had started it. That night of Locke's party- no, before that. The night she started singing him to sleep through the air vents. She had floated into his life through his ears and now her absence chafed like a burr in his shoe. Of course, in the past days there was no singing. Not even when Cardan lay there for an hour, waiting to hear her voice.

Locke had seen her.

In spite of the mess that had been that party, and the morning after, it seemed that Jude had taken on Cardan's advice and agreed to meet with Locke for the play.

And according to Locke, things were going very well. He raved about Jude's voice, which irritated Cardan to no end. He had put his ear to the carpet just to hear her, and now he had to share her with Locke? Prick.

Locke, as always, had an easy time of assembling the rest of his cast. Cardan did not think him a bad writer, but he did suspect the queues for his casting call had more to do with who his father was than with his skills as a playwright.

He had been auditioning for a couple of weeks now, and with Jude in place, he was ready to call his first cast meeting. Cardan, Nicasia and Valerian were expected to attend too- Nicasia and Valerian never missed a chance to be on stage, and Cardan was invited for his "musical ear."

So there they all were, on a Friday evening, in the old theatre Locke's dad let him use. Waiting for the last few people to arrive. When Jude walked through the door she nodded to Locke, but avoided Cardan's gaze.

Fine, he thought. If she didn't want to talk to him, he certainly wasn't going to force her. He thought of the rant she had loosed on him that morning last week, and figured it was probably better this way.

Finally, Locke called them all to attention, and Cardan sat in the back row with Nicasia and Valerian as Locke addressed them all from the stage. Cardan put his feet up on the chair in front of him, and let Nicasia doze on his shoulder while Valerian picked things out of the soles of his boots with a pocket knife.

"So without further ado,' Locke was saying, may I present to you our stunning leading lady, Taryn."

Cardan looked up. The small group were politely clapping as a tall, thin woman stood and nodded at them all. She was all blonde hair and heroin chic, just Locke's type. But what about-

"And of course our vocalist, discovered by yours truly and pulled from the bowels of the subway tunnels, Jude!"

The group applauded mildly again, but Jude did not stand up. Locke continued. "Jude is going to provide the singing voice for Taryn, although I haven't decided whether we're going to pre-record or get her to sing live backstage."

What?

"What?" Jude demanded. The cast went quiet. "You want me to sing for Taryn?"

"Yes, of course," Locke said. "You've got a lovely voice, Jude, but Tarym looks more the part, don't you think?"

"Well you didn't fucking tell me that when I agreed to do this, Locke."

"Jude," Locke held up his hands. "Please stay calm. I'm sorry if you misunderstood."

"If I misunderstood? You lied to me. Why in the hell would I want to stand around behind a curtain so that someone prettier than me can get the credit?"

"Aw come on, Jude. It's not like that. This is a very common practice in show business," Locke insisted.

Now that the drama was amping up, Nicasia and Valerian were suddenly paying attention.

"Yeah come on, Jude," Valerian called down. "It's a compliment, you have a great face for recording!"

"Darling, these are all Juilliard trained performers," Nicasia added. "You didn't actually think you were going to be on stage did you?"

"I didn't ask to be here," Jude said, picking up her bag. "Fuck this, and fuck you guys slowly with a fork."

She strode out the door, right past their row.

"Jude, wait," Cardan said, scrambling out of his seat.

"You stay the hell away from me," Jude hissed, then the door slammed behind her and Nicasia burst into hysterical laughter. Cardan looked back down toward Locke, who was shaking his head tragically.

"This is why you never hire amateurs," he said sadly, and in that moment, Cardan hated them all.

****

Hooo boy okay a lot happened in this chapter! We are in a two week lockdown after a COVID break out so I guess you get lots of writing this weekend. Someone please hug them for meee

JURDAN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish @story-scribbler

#jurdan #jurdan fic #tfota #mine

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blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years

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Music is so good for the soul, and during these hard times we must all help each other to find moments of joy.

- Dame Vera Lynn (1917-2020)

Dame Vera Lynn, the beloved British singer, died 103 years old on 18 June 2020. Surprise at her death is swiftly replaced by the sad realisation that it marks the end of a chapter in British history. Many of those who grew up with her music have died during the Covid-19 pandemic. How poignant that her death should come on the day that President Macron arrived in the UK to mark the 80th anniversary of General De Gaulle’s rallying cry to the Free French and to give the Légion d’Honneur to London, the city that weathered the blitz in 1940.

From the battlefields of France, the Netherlands, Italy and North Africa to the Far East, whenever soldiers gathered around a radio set or gramophone, the smooth vocal tones of Vera Lynn were sure to be heard.

It is impossible to gauge whether the outcome of the war was swayed by songs like ‘There'll Always Be an England’, ‘We'll Meet Again’, ‘(There'll Be Bluebirds Over) The White Cliffs of Dover"‘ and ‘A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square’.

But for countless men in uniform, the lyrics and the slim, wholesome young blonde woman who sang them seemed to offer a vision of what they were fighting for.

To modern ears, the words might sound corny but at a time when Britain stood proudly against the Germans, their patriotic appeal was irresistible.

Vera Lynn epitomised an archetypical, essentially decent Britishness, practical and fair-minded - notions which shone through the songs she sang.

Even her version of the German soldiers' favourite song, ‘Lili Marlene,’ managed to sound like a patriotic lament, a far cry from the darker sexual undercurrents implicit in the versions by Marlene Dietrich and Lale Andersen - ironically both of them anti-Nazis who became the German forces' sweethearts.

Vera Lynn's most famous song remains We'll Meet Again, recorded in 1939.

Lynn’s wartime popularity was boosted because of the song. The song’s appeal to love and stoicism - "Keep smiling through/Just like you always do/ Till the blue skies/Drive the black clouds far away" -- made it the perfect war-time anthem. It proved powerfully uplifting for departing soldiers, and it has endured as the defining song of the British campaign. The song re-entered the UK charts at No 55 amid the 75th anniversary celebrations of VE Day.

As she wrote later in her 1975 memoir, Vocal Refrain: “Ordinary English people don’t, on the whole, find it easy to expose their feelings even to those closest to them.” We’ll Meet Again would go “at least a little way towards doing it for them”.

In later years, the song, with its reminders of home and exhortations of courage, has become an indispensable part of national commemorations. And, with its swooping and strangely haunting melody, it has entered into popular culture. It forms an ironic accompaniment to the explosion of atom bombs in Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964); it is deployed with alienating effect in the Pink Floyd song Vera (The Wall, 1982); and it provides the eerie aural backdrop to the Tower of Terror ride in Walt Disney World, California.

But when Lynn began singing it at the age of 22, she had little idea that she would be singing it for the rest of her life.

Indeed the song found favour again this year when Queen Elizabeth II, in a rare public address to the nation, urged Britons to remain strong during the coronavirus lockdown.

"We should take comfort that while we may have more still to endure, better days will return: we will be with our friends again; we will be with our families again; we will meet again," the monarch said.

Vera Lynn was born in London's East End on March 20, 1917 as Vera Margaret Welch.

She began singing in local clubs at age seven and joined a child dance troupe, Madame Harris' Kracker Cabaret Kids, at 11. By 15, she was a teenage sensation as a vocalist with the Howard Baker Orchestra.

She adopted her grandmother's maiden name Lynn as her stage name, making her first radio broadcast in 1935 with the Joe Loss Orchestra.

She worked with another of the great names of the pre-war period, Ambrose, whose clarinettist and tenor sax player, Harry Lewis, she was to marry. The couple had one child, a daughter.

In war-time, Vera Lynn came into her own, hosting a BBC radio programme, "Sincerely Yours", appearing in a forces stage revue, and making three films.

So what did Vera Lynn have that propelled her to stardom during the war, when she became the “forces’ sweetheart”? Youth primarily. She was in her early 20s when war broke out – Elsie Carlisle, the iconic singer at this time, was in her 40s and recorded very little during the war, while Gracie Fields, who was astonishingly popular in the 1930s, had the temerity to marry an Italian and sat most of the war out in North America.

The country was aching for a new female singing star and Vera Lynn – youthful, toothily wholesome rather than glamorous, and with an innate modesty that suited an austere and dangerous age that had no time for displays of ego – fitted the bill. She had a powerful, bell-like voice – at times she almost recites the words and employs oodles of vibrato to underscore the emotion of her songs – that was perfect for a singalong. It is when the audience joins in with her songs that you get a lump in the throat.

She came to represent so much, especially to the service personnel she entertained tirelessly during the second world war. She visited Burma, Egypt and India to give concerts for troops stationed there, an act of courage that should not be underestimated. These were difficult, dangerous journeys and not for nothing was she later awarded the Burma Star. She symbolised resilience and indefatigability, embodying a strength of character that transcended mere art. Nazism had no chance against this winsome, optimistic, joyful yet tender young woman.

Lynn gave up singing after the war but was persuaded out of retirement in 1947 and began a whole new international career, with appearances in the United States in 1948.

She became the first British artiste to have a US number one with "Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart", her most successful record, in 1952. However Vera Lynn's career foundered in the rock and roll era and she cut back on public appearances.

Artistically, it must have been infuriating to be forever associated with the wartime struggle and she did attempt to move on, recording a few Beatles numbers in the 1960s and even making a country disc in 1977. But nothing could shift the way she was seen by the public: a symbol, quintessentially British, of that unimaginably long, bleak, ultimately triumphant wartime struggle; an icon frozen in time.

She accepted her status as a living museum of wartime music and culture with customary good grace. “I never thought the ‘forces’ sweetheart’ tag would stay with me,” she told the Radio Times in 2014, “but it has, hasn’t it? I thought it would last for the war period, then I’d just be another singer. Of course I’ve never minded that everybody always connects me with that time. It was so important.”

For decades, she was a beloved figure at celebrations to mark the anniversaries of the June 6, 1944, D-Day landings in France or VE Day, the end of the war in Europe on May 8, 1945.

Her last public performance came in 2005, at the 60th anniversary celebrations for VE Day in Trafalgar Square. She performed a snatch of We’ll Meet Again, and told the crowd: “These boys gave their lives and some came home badly injured and for some families life would never be the same. We should always remember, we should never forget and we should teach the children to remember.”

She was awarded an OBE in 1969, and made a dame in 1975, for her charity work. She has given her name to her own breast cancer and child cerebral palsy charities, and has also worked with charities for military servicepeople, including Forces Literary Organisation Worldwide (Flow)

In 2009, at the age of 92, she became the oldest living artist to make it to No 1 on the British album charts, with a greatest hits compilation outselling the Arctic Monkeys.

During the build-up to her 100th birthday in 2017, Dame Vera said she found it "humbling" that people still enjoyed her songs.

The Queen wrote to her: "You cheered and uplifted us all in the war and after the war, and I am sure that this evening the blue birds of Dover will be flying over to wish you a happy anniversary."

Her songs spoke to people caught up in war, trying to respond to its emotional extremes as best they could. They encapsulate fellowship and battling through, not jingoism, for all the flag-waving that accompanied her appearances at commemorative events. “We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when.” The lyrics could not be more banal, yet her genuine spirit invested them with deep humanity. As HM Queen Elizabeth II herself understood, what keeps us going in times of war and pandemic is the thought that we will be reunited with our loved ones, when the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away.

RIP Dame Vera Lynn

We’ll meet again....

#vera lynn #quote #life and death #second world war #music #singer #britain #femme #icon #history #forces sweetheart

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jeonjk0504 · 3 years

Note

why didn’t you say anything about the racism bts have faced these past days :(

Hey anon!

I actually haven‘t been online here because of the racism debate. I was on twitter and was supporting it there on two accounts nonstop! if you want to follow me, my @ is also jeonjk0504 :)

You are completely right though, i should have spoken up on my platform here sooner, to educate my followers on this really important matter!

If i make mistakes or should word things differently, please let me know, as you can tell i‘m not native.

The short version:

Credits to @ squishykosmos (twt)!

What happened?

3 days ago, the german radio host Matthias Mattuschik from the station Bayern3 spew racist remarks about BTS because of their MTV Unplugged cover of coldplay. He is a fanboy of coldplay and only wanted to introduce their song ‚Fix you‘ but somehow it was necessary to explain to his listeners why it was an utter insult that BTS had an MTV unplugged concert (he called it paradox, because it‘s a boyband) where they were allowed to cover his favorite song. Coldplay allowed the cover by the way and even commented on it positively.

Here are two links from his original rant, translated in english:

https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365211269133971458?s=21 (Part 1)

https://twitter.com/atinystrawbery/status/1365052883771785219?s=21 (Part 2)

As a german i know that to other people our language sounds quite agressive in general, but this is a whole different level. This isn‘t said in a jokingly way, it‘s pure hatred.

He called BTS a virus against which hopefully there will be a vaccine soon, that their cover of coldplay is blasphemy and that they are little pisser who should get a 20-year vacation in North Korea. Considering the rising violence against Asians all over the world because of Covid, his speech is extremely harmful and normalizes hate against Asians apart from the fact that it was racism in it’s purest form. Why the wish for a South Korean Group to have vacation in the North Korean dictatorship is inhumane and racist, i hopefully don‘t have to explain further. He even said, he can‘t be xenophobic, because he drives a korean brand car (which turned out to be japanese). The new ‚i can‘t be racist, i have a black friend‘.

This also hasn‘t been the first time, in 2018 he made an antisemetic comparison between smoker and jews for which he got a little attention, but no consequences.

Furthermore ARMY dug up a picture on his instagram from 2020 with the caption ‚ Is more evidence needed?!?,‘

A short note:

What makes this even more infuriating is that the radio station is regulated by public-law and german citizens are OBLIGATED to pay for it. We literally are forced to pay money to a radio station that broadcasts openly racist slurs! And no, it‘s not allowed. They have policies that explicitly say they are not allowed to discriminate, they have to support diversity and have to be politically and economically independant.

Do they give a fuck? Apparently not really.

Did Bayern3 answer the hashtags and the pressure?

They did, first came a short nonpology where they said that the show, which Matthias Matuschik is broadcasting, is known for his direct and honest opinions and that he could have worded it better. They are sorry if anyone felt insulted, which is excusing the feeling of the fans, but not the act in itself.

After Army answered with the hashtag ‚Racism is not an opinion‘ and various media coverage surfaced, they posted a second ‚apology‘, where they -again- said that they are distancing themselves from what was said and Matthias has always been an avid supporter of refugees so he is very far away from being a racist. (Supporting refugees doesn’t excuse you from saying racist things though.) Matthias stated that he is shocked from the reactions, that he is ‚sorry if people felt what he said was racist‘ and that his family is getting death threats. (which is in no way acceptable of course.) They would review what was said so it doesn‘t happen again.

Here you can read the statements in german and translated in english:

First statement: https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365087239756259330?s=21

Second statement: https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365305564050382849?s=21

This would have probably been the beginning of a conversation, if Matthias wouldn‘t have went to facebook after his second apology to like a supporting post that basically stated that the topic is way overhyped and in the 80s you were allowed to say your opinion without people getting butthurt (this is a short form.) He completely revised his remorse literally the same day after the updated apology and supported a statement that was gaslighting the people who critized him. You can read the facebook post here:

https://twitter.com/traveltomyrm/status/1365321397342461957?s=21

Since then: Nothing. My mom told me yesterday they‘re playing dynamite a lot, i told her to switch the channel.

News Coverage

Thankfully, we got a lot of support from I-ARMY and K-ARMY, otherwise we wouldn‘t have been able to trend the hashtags day and night and kept them in the top categories in germany and worldwide. We also got a lot of support from international media who called out the racism and put them into context in really amazing articles. (Also K-Media and J-Media but i only have screenshots, no links) Here are a few of them:

https://rollingstoneindia.com/xenophobic-german-presenters-comments-about-bts-are-just-the-tip-of-the-racist-iceberg/

https://www.forbes.com/sites/bryanrolli/2021/02/26/bts-were-once-again-the-subject-of-racist-on-air-remarks-and-received-a-pathetic-non-apology/

We even got celebrities like halsey, max, lauv, steve aoki, JJ Ryan, DJ Swivel, Liam McEwan, Zara Larsson, MTV UK, Columbia Records and some more bring attention to the issue and show their support for BTS in the face of racism.

This support was probably the reason why we even got a second ‚apology‘, because guess what? German media ain‘t having it. Since the beginning of our protest, i think i saw 2 articles in total which actually called it racism, various newspapers and online magazines were downplaying it by talking about ‚insults‘ and concentrating on Matthias calling BTS pisser instead of quoting the actual racist remarks he made. We got no TV news whatsoever. So naturally, german locals looking at this protest think that Fans are going on a rampage because their favorite boygroup got insulted.

It has been maddening. The radio station and host have been trying to sit this whole thing out for days, in hope we lose energy over the weekend and it‘s draining to not be heard or taken seriously. For me it‘s still a priviledged perspective, because i don‘t have to bear consequences when this thing is over, one way or another. But for Asians in our country, also some of my friends, this horror in times of covid will continue. The lack of serious German Media coverage has been frustrating and embarrasing to say the least, but also shown again, that the topic gets overshadowed by prejudices against KPop, the fanbase and Asians as part of satirical fun (which it isn‘t).

Why is that?

This is my personal take and not a deep analysis, just my personal observations: Germany might be progressive in a lot of aspects, but they still have deeply ingrained every day racism against asians and they have a huge problem realizing and admitting to that. We don‘t have a lot of asian representation and there is a huge alieniation from asians for a lot of german 50+ (also less, but those are the ones in power mostly). Racism against Asians is not seen enough and people don‘t empathize, partly because they‘re white privileged people who don‘t have to live with certain stigma, partly because they simply don‘t care to educate themselves about minorities in their own country. This ignorance is widespread, if it doesn‘t happen in front of your doorstep, it‘s probably nonexistant. It‘s also not only reserved for Asians, january 2021 we had a talkshow where 5 white german people talked happily about what minorities such as Romani people think as insulting or racist. They did get a lot of backleash because obviously they talk about matters, without letting minorities be part of the discussion, but real consequences? Nope.

I doubt that this protest will get Matthias Matuschik fired (which it should if you are openly racist on a public platform), because the pressure is too low and the radio station has shown with their first statement that they thought it‘s rather funny than problematic. But i don’t know what‘s going to happen. Apart from being an ARMY, i am an adult who condemns racism in any way or form. Why german media chooses to overlook the essence of the debate and makes it a hystercial fanbase issue is beyond me.

If you want to have a look yourself, you can follow German Fanbase accounts, such as @ BTS_UPDATES_GER for updates in german and english.

And at last, here is a thread on how german media reproduces Anti Asian Racism : https://twitter.com/storiesbythuy/status/1366073706817196046?s=21

German Armys are trying to come up with a plan to gain more attention for the topic at the moment, so we‘ll see how things turn out! Please support us if possible!

#bts #bts germany #army against racism

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derinxfam · 4 years

Text

Match Made In Heaven

♡ AU: Devil! Taehyung x Angel! Reader

♡ Genre: mostly smut, tiny angst and fluff

♡ Word Count: 3.6 K

♡ Warnings: edging, teasing, nipple kink, lactation, oral sex (female receiving), praise kink, corruption kink, purity kink, mentions of rape, big dick Tae, light bdsm, light spanking, daddy kink

♡ Synopsis: Every year, an angel falls to Hell ever since the Devil and God made a contract. Every angel gets tested. The angel with the lowest score gets sent to Hell as a sacrifice. Despite her top position, Xan, an archangel, volunteers due to personal reasons. The Devil, Taehyung, hurts her - in the best way.

♡ A/N: crossposted on AO3. inspired by btsracket and their story on AO3, “Smutty Fanfic In The Time Of Covid”, especially chapter 37. Please tell me if I should continue this and give me feedback! likes, comments, all appreciated.

Archangels aren’t supposed to question. Archangels aren’t supposed to be flawed. Archangels aren’t supposed to disobey and they’re certainly not supposed to yearn for a touch. God created them meticulously. Archangels strive for perfection. Humans hinge on them.

So why has God planted this grotesque behaviour inside you? You don’t feel or act utmost. Your attitude steered away from what’s expected, no, what’s imposed on you.

“Lola. Xanders. Avonne! Don’t tell me you’re daydreaming again!” Minzy tears your peace away from you.

“Zee, I just lost someone dear to me a week ago. Let me grieve. God gave us grief for a reason,” you demand that she empathises instead of pestering, which doesn’t work.

“Xan, look, I loved that kid. What was his name? Andy?”

“Abby,” you interrupt.

“Right, Abby. I loved him, you know? He gave you a reason to wake up in the morning. But he’s dead, Xan. God wanted his soul here.”

You inevitably roll your eyes at that. Like you’ve done something, anything other than contemplating why God took his soul. Worse yet, he took it and put it in hell. The worst thing Abby had ever done was scoffing at a friend or side eyeing his parents. You committed more menacing deeds than he did, and you were carved from gold and purity itself. Nothing could help you wrap your head around it. The computing didn’t prove right. Abby deserved to be here with you, his guardian angel, in heaven.

“Yeah, you’re right, Zee,” you agree. She must have weeded out the surrendering timbre of your voice. The next gesture she wears is raising her eyebrows. She’s in obvious disbelief. You don’t care.

“Xan, look, the annual sacrifice is in two days. Don’t be this year’s unfortune,” she dishes out with a matter-of-fact stance. A deep sigh bubbles in your lungs, which you swallow. Deep down, you don’t doubt that her heart is in a good place. But yours isn’t anymore.

Studying for the exam was no different than a walk in the park for you. Of course you got the maximum grade. You couldn’t keep count of how many times you’ve been congratulated. You suppressed a grimace each time. You reflexively faked a smile just for this situation.

After an ego boosting week, square one welcomed you with open arms again. Your unfiltered thoughts portrayed a miserable image. Day by day, sinning appeased you. Abby was still a dead, and a so called, sinful man. It didn’t add up. He wasn’t even 20. He had not one addiction. Worse souls have entered the heaven. All of it urged you to yell at God for the first time. You’ve always been a peculiarly top notch archangel. Always kind, considerate and soft headed, your exemplary behaviour levered you to the top. God even sent you a handwritten letter of appreciation. You were the big deal. If only they knew how rotten and infuriated you felt… How dare you question God and his motives? How dare you read a book about the Devil?

Your mind, however, was made up. You would volunteer for the annual sacrifice. You were in for a treat. From what you’ve gathered, the Devil was called Taehyung. Even uttering his name counted as a sin here, the biggest blasphemy. He was as old as time, and a fallen angel. The parallels you observed during your reading would make you gulp in panic. He rebelled against the god, for he believed humans aren’t to be worshipped. From then on, he fell into the hell and has been running the fiery place ever since. The deal he and God made stipulated that he would choose one angel each year, and keep her. Nobody knew what he did with them for sure, but it was speculated that he would use them for his evil deeds. Some angels would become his playthings, endlessly pleasuring him. Each year there would be an exam and the angel with the lowest grade would be sacrificed. Nobody has ever stepped forward to replace them.

You were about to change that.

The day you dread has come. It agitates you that you must leave for good, leaving everyone behind. The worst part is, they don’t even know. Would they even bat an eye if they did? You suspect that. Hell doesn’t house archangels, at least it wasn’t created to do so. The stories you’ve heard from your friends about the sacrificed angels that communicated with heaven always send shivers down your spine. You feel small. So small. You wonder if that’s how Abby felt. However, you double down. Cowardice is not a trait you obtain. You can fall as a heroine, or live here like a liar. You pick the latter.

Once everyone has gathered, the Council showed up. All the angels got lined up and bowed down. One of the women cleared her throat and addressed the crowd.

“Welcome, the blessed ones! We’ve gathered here to choose the annual sacrifice. First, let’s congratulate the consecutive winner, Lola Xanders Avonne. This is her 6th year at the top, a round of applause and a standing ovation, please.”

Well – this will certainly make it harder for you to volunteer. You stand there awkwardly. One last time, the rest of the angels stroke your ego. You’ll miss bathing in praise, but you miss Abby more. The applauses simmer down, and disappear just like he did.

“Now, as you all know, the angel at the bottom of the exam results list is Rokita Nmurtiq Laya. We all will dearly miss you, Rokita. Please say your-“

“No, you won’t.”

Everyone has their eyes on me. Again. It unnerves me. I know I have to step up, though, if it’s the last thing I do.

“I… volunteer. As a sacrifice,” you step forward. Everyone’s jaw drops.

“Xan, you’re the-“

“I know. That’s why I’m doing it. I’ve mustered enough courage to fall at my own will. I want everyone to remember me as a brave angel, as someone who has left a mark. Nothing more. If I fail at that, if you don’t give me the chance, you’ll be robbing me of this opportunity. I beg of you to let me be brave,” you confess. They see the look in your eyes. You’re adamant, unstoppable and foxy.

“Nobody’s ever done it before,” she reminds you.

“Then let me pioneer the others.”

The Council keeps their stern looks on you, but know you have the last word. You're allowed to fall.

You enter the hell once you’ve packed. It has a creepy vibe to it, sure, but it’s nowhere near the fantasised version. No flames to be seen, none that catches your eye. The temperature is higher than that of hell, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. A beige hallway leads you to the help desk, where you see a tall woman. She must be a fallen angel like you. Females aren’t born as demons, they become them. It's what your fate awaits, too.

“Hello there, darling, you must be the new sacrifice. Now, Taehyung’s been waiting for you! We’ve all heard about your decision to volunteer, what a brave soul,” she welcomes.

“Yeah, hi, I’m Xan. They must have sent you my files, surely you know my full name,” you lightly joke and add, “ so what’s yours?”

“Sowamic, but call me Wam, darling. We’ll have a whole eternity to get to know each other,“ she deadpans, making you second guess yourself. She must have noticed.

“Oh, no, don’t worry, dear. I know they feed you lies there but, most of us are happy here. You’ll like it in hell, I assure you. Now, let’s see our main guy. He’ll be frantic if he waits any longer.”

A semi-genuine smile curves your lips. In a short while, she stops in front of a big black door and knocks. A deep voice signals them to come in.

“Sir, here’s the new angel, Xan. The only archangel to fall here.”

“Thank you, Wam. You can leave,” he instructs. She obeys, and promptly walks out.

“Well, Xan, welcome to hell!”

You’re stomped. Is he the Devil or is he cosplaying? The stranger you’re conversing with looks too young and nice to be the Devil, and frankly, too handsome. Black eyes, his hair black also, a mole under his right eye and on his nose, flat but wide lips… He was ethereal.

“I-uhm… I didn’t expect this place to be…”

“This cosy?” he mocks.

“Yeah. It’s cosy. You-you don’t look like the Devil,” you challenge him.

“Did you expect an uglier, older and meaner version with less sense of fashion? Sorry, I don’t age, torture or mistreat. Plus, we have a Gucci store here, what did you take me for?”

Now you’re even more confused.

“Don’t you torture or rape people? How is this hell, people pay for their sins here! You, aren’t you..” You can’t finish the phrase.

“I am truly offended, Xan. Torturing and raping? I’m not a monster! I only make sinners get the karma they deserve, I don’t personally hurt anyone. That’s their own minds. And raping? I knew the old white guy up there was nuts but this shit is defamation on my behalf,” he scoffs. The audacity to frame him as a felon!

“I didn’t kn-“

“Of course you didn’t. Now you do.”

You lower your head in embarrassment. You really have a knack for ruining things before they start, huh?

“I’m not offended, angel, just upset a bit," he admits.

“I could… Make you feel better?” your mouth acts before your mind. To be fair, you have been getting these urges. He’s rumoured to be seductive and sinister, but is he really? You could have mistaken him for a male angel (which, granted, don’t exist) if it hadn’t been for the dark aura. He was unique, charming, kind and captivating, even. Maybe he was also a witch that bewitched you. Either way, you were enchanted. His smile exacerbated the said enchantment.

“How are you planning to do that, Xan?”

“Doll. Call me doll.”

He resists. He can play hard to get for you.

“Why should I?”

“Because I was conceived to serve you as such,” you rebuttle.

“Don’t tempt me, Xan. You don’t have to. Not everyone here is employed to satisfy me.”

You know that. You also know that you desire him. You exhibit it with a passionate kiss. His tongue is warm unlike the rest of his body. He pulls back.

“Xan, are you-“

“Yes, goddammit, I am sure. Do you not wanna fuck me?” you retort.

“I wanna fuck the innocence out of you, doll. How could I not? Look at you.” he purrs. His aura shines exquisitely, taking its toll on you. Whatever falls from his lips is honey, your favourite poison. The way he finally addresses you as you wish ignites your flames. He finally rids you of your clothes, your top and shorts pool on the ground.

“I wanna demonstrate how holy I can make you feel in hell. Will you behave and be my good doll?”

“Taehyung, please, I’m soaking wet for you, please do something! I’m at my wit’s end,” you plead with a small voice. He smirks, proud of and empowered by his effect on you. His doll couldn’t afford to wait more, could she?

“Open up, doll, let me taste you. Let me devour your angelic essence. I’ve been dying to try it.” Determined not to make him repeat it, your legs spread open like the beautiful petals of a flower. His cold fingers trace circles on your upper thighs, thoroughly teasing you. On your wrists is the sensation of a pair of handcuffs. He must have read your mind – good dolls don’t move after all. You love restraints.

“Are all archangels this attractive or is it just you, doll? Because I’ve never been this hard this easily. Your scent, it fucking destroys me. So tell me, are you the exception or the rule?” he inquires. You mutter an “I don’t know” between your rapid pants. When his tongue – finally – glides over your pussy, you lose your breath.

“What’s wrong, doll?” he chuckles, “don’t you want me to have a taste of my favourite dessert? You’re doing so good for me, if you keep this up, I might.” His unorthodox expressions only further rile you up. The ropes encasing your limbs immobilise you. His attacks on your tiny, untainted body grow like an avalanche of pleasure and come in tenfold. Then, a jolt of pain races through your body. He lightly slapped your bum.

“When I ask you a question, doll, you don’t ignore it. You answer me. You beg me to use your pure body, to ruin it and paint it with sin. Understand?” He leaves you no room for discussion.

“Y-yes, Taehyung, please, ah, have a taste,” you invite him meekly. His sinful lips dive deeper into your cunt, cherishing the hot, wet cave it’s digging. The precise and sharp movements of his tongue elicit the most wanton moan. He looks like a mad man eating for the first time, like a man with insatiable hunger for what he’s feasting on. No wonder, the devil does feed off of your essence. It’s his fuel. His hands don’t remain idle for too long, and soon grab your breasts. He’s squeezing them, feeling how fistful they are. He would kill a mortal or two for them. God molded you perfectly, and your plump breasts are no exception. The way they hang on your chest like two perfect droplets of water cements the sight to see before the Devil’s dark orbs. Your pert nipples, however, override your tits. If your tits take a slice, your nipples take the entire cake. The rosy buds erect under his touch, the colour and sensitivity permeating his most carnal desires. He grazes his teeth over your hardened, bubblegum coloured nipple. The other gets a pinch. The Devil drools over them, mesmerised. Your heavenly chants, half lidded eyes, pink cheeks and dark, long hair paint the most beautiful scene he’s ever behold in his life. Your beauty enchants like it was designed to. He’s busy getting drunk on it when something oozes from your nipples.

“Angel… You’re lactating. Fuck, are you trying to kill me? God, look at you, so wicked yet innocent… Fuck, doll, I can hardly restrain myself from ravishing you.”

A broken sob pops out of your mouth. He gravitates towards you, your left nipple now between his cold lips. You shriek at the coldness but he soothes you. Sucking your milk from one nipple, the devil’s advances oscillate between pinching and twisting the other. Your milk must taste divine to the devil, affirmed by his pleased moans around the swollen bud. Your tits feel sore, albeit less. When your left tit is emptied, he switches to the other one, now teasing the vacant nipple. He takes his time. When you’re all out of milk, he lifts his head to meet your antsy gaze.

“Doll, your milk tasted so savory, thick and sweet. But I’m going back to my second home now, so spread your legs wide open. I’m gonna taste your sherbet,” he commands. You wilfully obey, and his jet black locks block the view of your angelhood when he kneels down between your legs. Your fresh taste coats his tongue, giving a shower to his tastebuds. You’ve already leaked more than enough to make him dizzy, yet who is he to refuse more of your love potion? His slurping never relents, only causing you to drip more. However, you both acquire enough biology knowledge. Your most delicate spot hasn’t been caressed yet. It’s out of its hood, winking at Taehyung. He doesn’t ignore it for too long. Tender kisses to your pearl crescendo into unforgiving sucks. His lips encapture your sensitive bud. The harsh sucks and the slight graze of his teeth spike a euphoric moment, and you swear your soul left your body for a second there. You’re a mere slave to his ministrations. The edge pulls you in, one more step, one more suck and you’re at the top, and then… The suction vanishes. You moan in desperation, to no avail. The fire in your stomach extinguishes while your sanity crumbles into pieces.

“Ssshh, doll, be good and ride that edge. Show me that you can suffer for me beautifully, so I know you deserve your reward. That’s it, take it nice and slow. Don’t make me gag you, doll,” he exhorts. Your whimpers dim down, now the only audible sound in the room is his sucking. Before you get to the edge again, he halts. You don’t dare to meet his eyes. He flips you on the bed, your hands still tied behind but now your face is buried into the sheets. A ruffling sound echoes, signalling him getting out of his jeans and boxers. His cock remains out of your vision, nevertheless you feel it when the head teases your clit. His precum leaves a burning sensation on your pearl. The devil rams his monster of a cock inside you, easing in slowly to facilitate the process and decrease your pain.

“Fucking shit, g-god, I’ve fucked so many mortals and demons, doll, but your tightness can’t compare. No wonder why archangels are renowned for having the best pussies. You’re squeezing my cock so well, fuck.”

The stretch steals your breath from you right on the spot. He was extremely thick, widening your welcoming walls with no shame, but he was also long. At least 12 inches, from what you could feel. It was throbbing inside you hotly. The devil lost himself in your angelic bliss, he couldn’t help it. Archangels were created by god himself to be the most seductive to the devil, and Taehyung couldn’t resist his own nature. Your shining, ablaze skin, mixing with his honey one; your innocence and white wings, your gloomy, porcelain aura that purifies his dark one, your cunt that clenched around his fat cock… His aggresive pounds drilled into your hot, velvety walls at a fast pace. Your clenches brought him to the edge quickly, but he couldn’t afford to cum just yet.

You, on the other hand, are filled to the brim. Experiencing your hole being this full levitates you. You pride yourself in the thought of him being this hard because of you. His little doll he treasures. His cock is red, throbbing, swollen. You feel the blood flow of the primary vein that cascaded under it. All his pleasure, love, and cock; it’s all yours. He’s all yours and you’re all his.

“Do you know what happens when I cum?” he raises the question. You nod.

“Your-your cum… Fuck, it, uh, makes me, makes me faint because m-my pure body cannot process your sin-ful seed,” you explain in a rush.

“That’s my doll, beautiful and clever,” he praises. His index finger hovers above your clit, lightly teasing it. When it lands on it eventually, he draws circles and eights on it, accompanied by soft pinches. It drives you up to wall. Your moans fuel his ego more, he knows you’re close. So is he. Fascinated and tantalised by his engorged cock, your heavenly pussy clenches. Your clenches and tightness torturously suck the soul out of him. He’s being milked to the last drop. Your cunt is greedy. Since he won’t be able to endure your sweet torment for too long, he enacts. One finger on your left nipple, the other on your pearl, he plays your body like an instrument, and he happens to be a virtuoso. Your pleasure threshold soars high, as if the devil bewitched you. Maybe he did. You wouldn’t mind.

“Do you like it when I taint you? Make you commit a sin? Do you love being my precious little doll?” he entices.

The fact is, you do. Being surrounded by his sinful and worshipping embrace paves a way to your core. If God hadn’t wanted you to sin, he should have admonished harder. Instead, he amplified the Devil.

“I do, I love it when you praise me, wanna be a good, desperate doll for you. I want you to wreck me to the ground and then build me up again, please, Taehyung-“ His vicious chuckle overshadows your pleas.

“Your wish is my command, doll. You’ve been so good for me. You deserve it. Are you close?” his voice rumbles in his chest. You nod, too spent to talk. The precum leaking from his slit already has you light-headed.

“Then cum, cum for me and wash my cock with your holiness like the angel you are. Let your little heaven squeeze me as I rip it to shreds” he implores. That’s all it takes.

Sobs ring in the background. Your cunt spasms around him, strangulating his length and blessing him. He feels your juice lubricate his cock even more. Your eternal grace guards you even amongst the throes of passion. You barely catch your breath when he comes with a deep grunt. Your vision fades into darkness and the semen decorating your heaven makes you pass out. His harsh thrusts cease to exist. The devil eyes the unconscious angel under him, swooning. Even in her state, she carries her grace and majesty. His now flaccid dick leaves the safety and warmth of her walls that encase it. He shivers at the sensation.

Five minutes later, the angel is untied, cleaned up and resting on his bed. The smitten devil is playing with her black hair, and giving her temple kisses when the urge kicks in. She would gain consciousness a few hours later, and still hold her holiness like he adored.

#bts #bts smut #kim taehyung #bulletproof boy scouts #bangtansonyeondan #bangtan #bangtan boys #bts v x reader #bts v #angel x demon #smut #kpop #kpop smut #방탄소년단 #방탄소년단 김태형 #김태형 #bts taehyung #taehyung #bts x reader

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sonjaohno · 3 years

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Democracy in America

Hello dear friends and family,

October is off to a crisp start and I've been busy squirreling away at the library. It's already been one month since I arrived, which makes it high time for some reflection. I've been working hard to come up with clever answers to the question of "what my impressions are" mainly because (and a list of so-called impressions follows):

I thought Finns were insecure, with their country branding workshops and whatnot, perennially worried about what other people (read: the Swedes) think of us, but I can tell you, Americans are worse. In all the years I've lived in Berlin, not once has a German person (nor a Berliner—these are two completely distinct groups of people) asked me to tell them what I "think" about their country, or what my "impressions" are. Maybe they know better than to ask. Maybe they really don't care. Americans, on the other hand (including New Yorkers, though a similar non-equivalence exists here), cannot get enough of foreigners' interpretations of their country. I think it's because they genuinely don't know what to think about their country themselves and are waiting for somebody to tell them what the hell is going on here. So, what are my impressions so far?

America is home to some really great things. So far, my top three list is i) cinnamon-flavored chewing gum ii) hazelnut-flavored filter coffee (a mystery but a delightful one) iii) pecan-pumpkin-spice-flavored filter coffee (again, I don't know who came up with this or what they do to make coffee taste like a Hallmark card but I fuckin love it) iv) ditto, snickerdoodles (both the word and the pastry). Oops, that's four.

There is, however, clearly something wrong with a country that has to keep toothpaste under lock and key at the drugstore. I mean, toothpaste is expensive here—$5.99 for a tube, are you kidding me?—but it's still not exactly a luxury item. I literally have to ring a bell at Duane Reed to get an employee to open the toothpaste safe for a tube of Colgate. I wondered about this out loud to a New Yorker, who told me it's because the Duane Reed I went to is located at a "minor transportation hub," in the corner of W 110th and Broadway, which presumably means that this ludicrously wealthy Upper West Side drugstore frequented mostly by Columbia students and faculty is some kind of a crime hotspot. I should probably start carrying a gun.

Americans are loud. I feel like shushing people all the time, which makes me feel like a bad person. If anyone asked me to, I'd be more than happy to provide instructions for adjusting the volume of one's speech to different situations. It'd go something like follows: i) When outdoors, use what you would consider an "indoors voice." ii) When indoors, use what you would consider a "library voice." iii) When in the library, shut the fuck up. Pretty simple, huh?

The American economy would collapse if people stopped living on takeaway meals and coffees. I have never seen people so comfortable dishing out $20-50 per day for food they don't like and coffee they don't need. I mean, I'm not even able to get out of bed without several cups of coffee in the morning but I'd find it really hard to justify a $10 daily budget for iced-mocha-swirly lattes and another $10 for dumplings, when you can just pack a sandwich. The number of students able to afford this kind of lifestyle is just astounding. (This is Columbia, I am aware that the people without trust funds constitute a minority.) I feel positively frugal with my leftover lunches and thermos bottle of coffee (this week it's Donut Shop Roast, which disappointingly does not taste like donuts).

Americans like to think of themselves as libertarians and are famously opposed to state-imposed regulation—but I've never felt as regulated and rule-bound as I have here. It's just that the rules aren't handed down by government officials but by the various enterprises, including private businesses and universities (the latter is included in the former but deserves a honorary mention of its own), who would rather impose elaborate codes of conduct than leave people to their common senses and be sued when something inevitably happens. As one particularly pointless example, I have to complete an online covid-symptom checklist every morning before I'm allowed to enter campus—a "Daily Attestation," it's called—where I solemnly swear that I did not have a cough or a sore throat that morning, either. The only conceivable purpose of this useless exercise is to ensure that if somebody does show up on campus sneezing and wheezing their viral particles around, Columbia can't sued for not having done everything in its power to prevent the virus from spreading. Airing out rooms, though, is strictly out of the question—presumably because it's against some other rule designed to stop students from committing suicide by jumping out a third-floor window. As a person who is physiologically unable to follow pointless rules, I find this kind of self-serving, counter-logical box ticking absolutely infuriating.

It's not all bad, though. Yesterday I went to a Japanese jazz speakeasy around Midtown. We had to stand in line for about an hour, between a group of 17-year-old musical theater majors and 27-year-old jazz enthusiasts. The former were bursting out in spontaneous, perfectly synchronized song every few minutes, the latter were debating scales or keys or some such—I'm telling you, it was like walking into a badly-written scene of Glee. It was worth it though. At one point, during a several-minute-long drum solo, I experienced what can only be described as a moment of pure transcendence. People were all around me were yelling over the music and gesticulating wildly and, for a few seconds, time compressed to something graspable; a thing crackling with energy. An oceanic feeling is, in the words of turn-of-the-century mystic Romain Rolland, “a spontaneous … feeling of the ‘eternal’ (which can very well not be eternal, but simply without perceptible limits, and like oceanic, as it were).” If eternity can be found in a midtown basement, Manhattan can’t be all bad. (Below a video clip I took discreetly when entering.)

P.s. A friend of mine said that I should write an Alexis de Tocqueville -type report about my time in America, which explains the title of this post. For the literary agents and non-fiction editors reading this blog (jk, apparently it's my mum and three of her friends who read these entries—hi!!!), you can email me at sonjaohno at gmail dot com for a book deal.

#manhattan #midtown #sonja travels #nyc #america #alexis de tocqueville #oceanic feeling #romain rolland

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muthaz-rapapa · 3 years

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HealPre Final Review: Not terrible but not entirely laudable either...

*sigh* Where do I start?

Well, one thing I’m pretty sure of is that COVID definitely affected production somehow. By that, I don’t just mean the show needing to go on hiatus, resulting in a shorter run compared to previous seasons. I’m also talking about any possible changes that might’ve been made to the original narrative, if there was one.

Much like how Suite’s story had to be altered in the wake of the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami disaster, I believe Heal underwent a similar treatment in response to the pandemic becoming more widespread as 2020 went on.

Especially since it dealt with health and nature, HealPre is probably the season that has come the closest in relevancy to real life events.

Frankly, that can be quite scary because this virus was and is still a fucking nightmare on a massive global scale. From that view, I can understand why the writers/producers would be concerned of the anime hitting too near home. At least for their main demographic’s (children) sake, maybe they were compelled to shift to something lighter and less edgier so that the kids could find some comfort and enjoyment in the midst of the world’s current crisis.

So I can’t fault Toei for that, if that’s really the case. Going through a pandemic is terrifying, infuriating and exhausting and UGH. We could use something that can help ease our worries or momentarily distract us even a little bit.

Though would it have killed them to dedicate one episode to the importance of wearing a mask or washing hands? (-_- ;;)

HOWEVER! Seeing as I am not a fragile child, I’ve still got several (oho~) criticisms to air out before I put this season behind me. This review isn’t particularly scathing but...there is a lot of discontent so you’ve been forewarned.

But first, let’s tediously review what structure means in Precure.

We all know that there are certain things that will forever (?) remain fixed in the series formula.

The plot is always going to be “magical girls fight evil doers threatening to ruin the world”.

There are plot points to indicate story progression but in reality, are put there to correspond with toy releases which are usually marked by these five: introductions, first power up, midseason Cure, second power up, and build-up to the climax + finale.

There is usually a specific message (a theme) to be told with every season and motifs (narrative tools) to aid in getting that across. For HealPre, the theme is “living is fighting” and its motifs are “health” and “nature”.

I left out “animals” b/c 1) it didn’t hold as much significance as the other two did, 2) animals are part of nature anyway and 3) let’s be real, it’s just a synonym for “mascots” which we already get every year. :P

Right. I’m probably forgetting something but for the most part, these are immovable pillars of Precure.

Story, on the other hand, has more variables you can work with.

Story is how you tell the plot, how you convey the message.

Precure, as a tv series, is unarguably carried by its main stars, the Cures. So it only makes sense that a huge percentage of a season’s success owes itself to how much of an impact its characters had on the audience as well as how effective their individual story arcs were as sub-plots tying back to the bigger picture (the message/theme).

Ideally, these arcs would shine the brightest in the filler episodes, where the plot (“good guys vs. bad guys”) is less of a focus so there is more space for personal development and growth.

Also, not all character arcs have to be directly related to the plot but they ought to be written well in order to support the overarching message (the theme).

Now, has HealPre done that? Has each girl’s story demonstrated a good example of what “living is fighting” means?

...nnnnnnyyeeee... look, even I can’t give a straightforward answer on that because while technically they did, by virtue of Nodoka’s observance in ep 44 recounting it as such, there’s also actually not enough to make it feel substantial from a viewer’s standpoint.

At least, that’s what I thought while watching HealPre.

With the exception of Nodoka’s, there was a lot of saying but not much doing to convincingly back the other girls’ arcs up. The fillers themselves were very weak, loosely composed in relation to the motifs and, if I may be so blunt, downright boring that if Nodoka didn’t phrase those episodes as things that counted towards the theme, I probably would put up more of a fight on disagreeing. so shoot me, I’m soft for her :P

And I know that sounds confusing right now but I will elaborate as I continue.

Before that though, to be utterly fair, some seasons keep their respective themes shrouded in vagueness until they’re given a more concrete form in words around the finale. So it’s not like we can do much except make educated guesses on what they really are. Most of the time, we’re just measuring everything against our perception of a standard in the fog. Or maybe that’s just me?

Nevertheless, you can just tell, y’know? By simply watching and observing the whole show, you can tell if the characterization, the development, and the outcome (essentially the content given) really live up to what the season claims is endgame.

So let’s go through that first then. The characters, starting with our lead Cure...

Nodoka being the only Cure in her team to have an arc deserving of the praise “exceptional” should come as a surprise to no one.

She was the most solid in terms of direction on how her story was going to proceed. Out of all the girls, her journey had the greatest connection to the subject “health”, repeatedly delved into it every time the spotlight was on her and fulfilled everything it seemed to promise from her debut in episode 1.

Her struggles on the road to recovery from a long-term illness and the strength she’s drawn from that traumatizing experience as well as her time as Precure did more than establish her as the strongest character in HealPre.

She has also rose to become one of the most memorable Pink Cures in the entire franchise (personally, I rank her in the top 5).

And it’s not hard to see why she’s earned such high regard in a lot of fans’ hearts.

The writers clearly worked a lot on her character composition to the point where she can pretty much embody the theme of “living is fighting” all on her own.

She came into HealPre fresh out of the hospital and full of earnest desire to make the most of her newfound freedom but she also wasn’t without knowledge on what hardship is. From there, she only got stronger, even when she was stumbling and trying to figure things out along the way. She grew more fortified in her beliefs on what it means to be truly live a healthy life.

She bravely defied the ones who attempted to take advantage of her and twist her cause against her. And she learned that taking care of herself is equally as important as wanting others to be safe from harm.

It was never about winning or coming out on top. It was about protecting a fundamental yet precious truth. That one thing any decent human being should never have to concede: the right to live well.

Honestly, Nodoka is absolutely inspiring all around, as a fictional character, a heroine and a normal everyday person.

Everything about her arc went satisfyingly right like it was meant to and the best thing is, we don’t need to question it because we saw how it all happened with our very own eyes.

I sincerely wished I could say the same for the others but sadly, they were just too flawed.

And Pegitan can throw flippers with me all day if he wants but as undeniable as the above statements are about Chiyu, her arc failed to leap over the increasingly mounting disappointment I had with every episode that’s been assigned solely to her.

Two of which weren’t even about Chiyu. One centered on Pegitan’s admiration for his partner and the other focused on her brother, Touji. Which, while nice to give to supporting/secondary characters, is a fat waste of valuable screentime and not what I’m here for.

It also didn’t help that the conflict of her arc (the indecision over choosing between two dreams) started really late in the game and was resolved so quickly within two episodes. There was no time for me to get invested into it, there was no powerful sense of conviction like how Go!Pri or Hugtto handled theirs and really, it just felt like Chiyu was only following what the script dictated for her rather than genuinely awakening to her own competitive passion towards track and field.

It was almost like it didn’t matter. Almost as if the writers procrastinated in thinking up something worthwhile to further her development...but then settled on grabbing an old idea off the shelf without refining it to suit Chiyu when they ran out of time.

This happened similarly with Minami in Go!Pri and Elena in StarPre, both of whom left me angry at how their arcs were executed. Yet theirs don’t compare to how pissed off I am about Chiyu’s. Because while Minami’s took a while to arrive, it wasn’t done poorly and linked back to Go!Pri’s theme well enough. And while Elena’s was over crammed last minute, at least it was unique to her character and had lots of potential ways to play out if they actually started it earlier on in StarPre.

Chiyu’s arc is like a discount version of the former with hardly any of the intriguing qualities of the latter. Sure, she had two early episodes that laid out the two most important aspects of her life (her family inn and her dedication to her sport) but after that, they weren’t brought up again until we were only weeks away from the ending. Y’know, just to fill up episode slots and meet the minimal requirement of saying they did give Chiyu some issue to resolve.

It was not engaging at all.

Furthermore, the fact that her arc had very little to no relation with either “health” or “nature” hurt my appreciation of her character somewhat. I just...don’t think her kind of story really matches with the central topics of HealPre?

...but maybe I’m being bitter about this all wrong and that’s screwing up my rational thinking on this matter.

Because Chiyu’s arc is valid under the logic of the overall theme, I would never say it isn’t. And again, character arcs don’t have to be close to the plot nor is it necessary to employ the “suffering builds character” method to make them interesting.

Chiyu always does her best every day. That’s sufficient argument on why her story does fit within the frame of HealPre’s premise.

Guess I’ll just have to wrangle my resistance into acceptance somehow.

...still, her arc could’ve been done so much better than what we were given. Chiyu at least deserved that much.

Next, Hinata.

Since the beginning, I knew she was gonna be runner-up to Nodoka for having the (for lack of better term atm) “best” arc because it was heavily implied that she has ADHD and therefore, immediately checked off the “health” trait. She was even more obvious about it than Nozomi was.

Difficulty paying attention, hyperactivity, impulsiveness. Hinata didn’t just display all those signs, she also showed how hard it was for her to deal with the downsides to them on a regular basis.

She kept apologizing and put herself down excessively for inconveniencing her friends even though they never blamed her for her condition. Got them annoyed a few times, yes, but didn’t stop them from staying friends with her and definitely didn’t make them hate her either.

Everybody was understanding of Hinata...except Hinata because she always took her failures to heart and considered quitting several times to avoid the crushing dejection of making mistakes over and over again.

She got better, though, and no one could have summed it up more heartwarmingly than Nyatoran with the encouraging words he gave her at the conclusion of her arc.

But it still feels like there’s a huge chunk of development missing between the start and finish. Or rather, it seemed like all of it occurred offscreen and we were only informed later that it did in fact, happen.

To recap, iirc, Hinata had around 5 episodes that focused on her (ep 9, 13, 23, 35 and 40). Ep 18 doesn’t count because that was a Nyatoran-centric filler more than anything.

Ep 9 and 13 did their jobs of introducing and highlighting the details of Hinata’s troubles while also suggesting she will eventually learn to overcome her insecurities. The ones after, though? They pushed those issues to the backseat.

In Ep 23, she had to share the (uneven) spotlight with Asumi. Hinata’s improvements were briefly mentioned but the majority of the ep went to teaching Asumi what “cute” meant and how to get along with puppies. I mean, I get that Asumi recently joined the group and bonding with her was mandatory by tradition. But since each Cure only gets a limited number of eps to herself, it would’ve been more beneficial for Hinata if she didn’t have to split screentime with someone else’s growth schedule.

Ep 35 is slightly better but not by a whole lot. Sure, Natasha was able to reconcile with Elizabeth which was very sweet and heck, it was the goal for that episode. But again, nothing was really done or addressed about Hinata’s main conflict. She tossed it back with the rest of her homework to deal with later. ahaha, a TroPre hint

Then ep 40 came to formally close the curtains on her story and apparently, Hinata screwed up lots of times since...whenever but she picked herself up every time after and kept on trying. Awesome. So WHY didn’t we get to see that?

I’m not asking for the impossible here. I’m not asking for Hinata to be cured or anything miraculous like that. There is treatment available for ADHD but it is not curable.

Also, forcing Hinata to find a way to get better at studying, the thing she struggles with the most, is not the solution either because that would only make her more stressed and anxious over her own disorder.

What I want is to see how she moved from wailing “I can’t do it! I don’t wanna! I’m so scared of failing so why bother?!” to determinedly declaring “So what if I failed 1 or 100 times? So what if I fail another 1000 times? What matters is that I don’t let that stop me!”

That confidence is not something that can be built up overnight. It’s gradual and it takes numerous tries to reach from where Hinata was to where Hinata is now.

Telling me she grew emotionally stronger can only allow me to believe so much. I need to actually witness the changes as well.

If it weren’t for that, Hinata’s arc would have been a lot more impressive. Shame.

Finally............... Asumi.

Asumi, Asumi, Asumi, Asumi, Asumi, Asumi, Asumi... *sighs & drums fingers*

...she has no arc, ok? Seriously, what story is there to speak of, much less write a hefty analysis on?

A spirit born for the sake of Latte who just went along with the Precure ride because Latte didn’t want to abandon her duty. She made friends with those who aren’t Latte, extended her knowledge and understanding and gained valuable human experience during her stay on Earth. But ultimately, she will always define her entire existence around a puppy.

Nothing is more important than this puppy.

...... to be honest, Asumi not having a storyline isn’t what bothers me. It’s her lack of depth that does.

Hell, even the giant burger she ate had more depth than she did!

Oh, Asumi does have a personality alright. She’s consistently and unfailingly polite, utterly devoted to her raison d’être and in crucial moments, gives pearls of wisdom when the girls are in a pinch. She’s good.

But if that’s all she is, then she’s also painfully dull.

She has nothing to contribute to the discussion of health or nature, despite being created through an element of the Earth so you’d think she’d have an opinion of her own. At least worry about the planet that gave life to her as much as she frets over Latte all the time. But nope.

She shares the exact same face as Teatine’s past Precure partner so you’d think we’d explore that connection to see if it would influence or affect her in any way. But nope.

90% of the time, her role was just being Latte’s constant, fawning satellite.

Not only did that irritate the hell out of me but it just reinforced my stance that this type of character is one of the worst you can ever insert into any narrative.

Because if someone keeps reiterating how much they’re obsessed with this one thing and seldom talks about anything else without bringing their obsession into it... then what’s so special about them on their own?

You’ve practically surrendered the different qualities you could have had for worship of something else. That’s not a fair trade-in.

Asumi’s character is so packed with Latte-related stuff that there’s not much space left for anything that can be considered uniquely Asumi.

I mean, maybe it’s because I can never see myself or any normal person comfortable with living like that.

Living for the sake of being together with the one you love? Okay. But living with your whole universe revolving around that one thing? Making most if not all decisions based on this one thing?

No. That’s absolutely crazy, alright? Nobody with a healthy amount of awareness and self-worth would live like that.

And you can counter that Asumi’s just born like that. That she can’t help her origins because Teatine’s wish to protect her daughter is essentially what brought Asumi into existence so of course, her biggest concern would be Latte. At least, she wasn’t forced into it, right? As long as Asumi chose of her own will to follow Latte, it should be fine, right?

You can even use the fact that Asumi isn’t human. That she’s a spirit and we shouldn’t apply our human standards too strictly to her.

Yea, but those are feeble defenses in the face of her being a good main character, a good main heroine.

There are many ways to make a decent MC. The way Asumi was written proves she certainly does not possess traits that can classify her as true protagonist material. A protagonist has to be more than one amplified feature, which Asumi is not.

For the record, I don’t hate Asumi (she’s not interesting enough to generate a feeling that intense). I'm just severely let down because even if I don’t end up loving the midseason Cure for whatever reason, I can usually count on them to bring something intriguing to the table to dissect and analyze. At least I should find something to care about them.

Didn’t happen with her. :(

Oh god, I’ve been working on this post for days now and I’ve got a headache and with the baton pass happening in less than a few hours as I type this, I just really need to get it done and over with so please forgive me for speeding up through the rest, I’ll try to keep it as coherent as possible. NYARGH! (@_@ ;;)

Mascots.

Would you be surprised to hear that I’m not surprised that they were actually written very well?

Like I said early on, I suspected the return of fairy partnerships were going to improve the mascots’ significance in the story and, well, I was right.

This time, they didn’t just fill in the usual expectations of relaying exposition, serving as the Cures’ transformation devices and looking cute for the merchandise. The Healing Animals had to make progress on their own training to become doctors as well.

And they did through their relationships with their human partners.

It was a refreshing take on the mascot aspect of the series because the friendships felt really symbiotic. When the trainees arrived on Earth, they relied on the girls to help them perform their jobs as well as provide them with shelter, food, the occasional peptalk about their trainee status, etc.

Then as the story continued and they got to know each other better, the mascots were able to return the favor by giving support when the Cures needed it. Rabirin when Nodoka was frightened and confused about how to deal with Daruizen, Pegitan when Chiyu was having trouble choosing between two dreams and Nyatoran who made sure to always lift Hinata’s spirits up when she got upset at herself.

In short, they achieved their objectives of learning what it means to be good doctors by being there for their friends! How wonderful! :D

My memory for Latte is hazy, unfortunately, since she’s coddled by everyone all the time (can’t blame them, she’s friggin’ adorable! <3) but I’ll never forget how she stood firm on the battlefield to see things through, to fight for the Earth like she promised her mother. She started out so babie but showed us all there was enormous bravery behind her cute face and ugh, we should all be very proud of her! <3

The only major issues I had about the mascots were these:

1) Too many irrelevant fillers went to them. They only needed a maximum of two for their entire mascot group.

2) Latte kept getting sick even after she acquired a Precure partner of her own. I was hoping it wouldn’t hurt her as much as it did before Asumi arrived or that she would build up a stronger immunity but noooo, they insisted on torturing the poor pupper! T_T

Villains + Finale Battle

Not a lot needs to be said for the first part. We’ve had mediocre antagonists before. HealPre’s just happened to be extra annoying as they were despicable.

Which is worse because jerks you can just leave in the trash but assholes won’t stop harassing you unless you pummel them into their graves, set fire to their corpses and leave no trace of them behind! >:(

Y’all know who I’m talking about. Opinions on him continue to vary depending on who you talk to and if they’re avid fans of his face or not but whatever. The son of a bitch served his purpose and is dead now. That’s all that matters to me.

Anyway, the King was flat like his two lesser generals. He was neither intimidating nor distinguished enough in the brand of evil to really make us think of him as a serious threat and because of that, it ended up making the boss fight look like any run of the mill boss fight.

I know, they tried so hard with all that shiny animation but it just didn’t have that glorious sense of vindication that previous seasons (or ep 42) gave and I blame it all on this Rumiko Takahashi reject.

Also, this strategy was pretty useless?

They built it up like Earth was gonna sacrifice herself and die or something (she wouldn’t and even if she came close, deus ex machina would’ve kicked in to prevent that and COVID-induced caution too I guess).

But there were no signs of pain (well, that’s a relief) after absorbing Shindoi-ne and they really pissed King Byogen off more than they did any damage with the absorbed byo-gen power.

...so yea, this tactic was just to kill some time and budget, nothing more. Meh.

By the way, did Asumi eject Shindoi-ne’s pathogen out of her body yet or did they just leave it in there to bounce around until it eventually dissolves on its own?

Because that’s eww. I mean, it’s obviously not gonna hurt Asumi they can both relate on hyperfocusing their affection for someone so maybe the compatibility helps :P but still, ewwwww.

Fillers + Underused Motifs

In hindsight, perhaps HealPre didn’t exactly promise the content we I wanted about “health” and “nature” if their objective was to teach that any manner of “fighting” can count towards “living”.

......but fuck you Toei, you’re still cowards! >:/

Fillers will be fillers but it’s always better to try and make some of them as meaningful as possible. And they wasted the opportunity to inform an impressionable audience (during a very crucial period of our time, I must add) on a lot of things related to the HealPre’s motifs. Especially about the environment which for some ridiculous reason, they chose not to touch on for the main stretch of the overall story.

Proper hygiene, good diet plan and sleeping habits, regular exercise (already done by the girls a few times but could use another example), meditation, counseling/therapy (especially for mental health!), etc.

Real life pollution, climate change/global warming (IMPORTANT!!), deforestation, preservation vs conservation, endangered species, recycling, volunteering to clean up your community, etc.

These just came off the top of my head but yes, there’s more and no, I’m not saying that the writers need to cover all of them in extreme detail or replace the slice-of-life episodes.

But they should be able to mesh both serious and light-hearted together in harmony somehow. Like those fillers where the mascots saw people cleaning up littering at the park or that interaction with that arborist who taught them about wild animals and trees when the group went to visit a lake.

For health, maybe let the girls visit patients with chronic illness in the hospital or have them converse with a medical professional on some matter. Particularly if it’s got something to do with mental illness because stigma in Japan on those who are afflicted with such conditions is still prevalent and has caused a number of sad and shocking tragedies that could have otherwise been avoided if people didn’t have such outdated, judgmental mindsets.

That last part might be too dark for a children’s anime but there’s a lot more out there that is doable.

Do that without reducing it into a footnote, Toei. It is so necessary for your target audience to be aware of these issues at the age they are now. You have an almost 20-year old franchise to serve as a very effective platform. Make better use of it if you truly care about the message you’re conveying through your show!

Also, what the fuck.

The last episode was a mess. Why are you only mentioning this now when the season is already over?

This should’ve been brought up months ago!

All the things we could’ve seen the Cures done to protect the Earth without magic.

The excuse of “I didn’t know humans were so horrible!” is a shit one because everybody knows humans are deplorable trash when it comes to abusing the Earth. All the more reason why you have to persistently drill it into people’s heads that they should not be like those who don’t care or choose not to care.

One crack episode isn’t going to cut that.

God, I so want to unsee this ep just so I don’t have to end HealPre on a more sour note than it already was. *big aggrieved sigh*

Lastly (and this really is the end of my long ranting, I promise), the missing undisclosed lore.

There are few Precure seasons without a past lore of its own in the recent years. Is it a wonder, though?

Lore is mysterious and fascinating. If it involves a past Precure, even more so.

Sometimes fans might just hang onto a show because they’re curious about what happened before the main story. We’d never get the full tale of those adventures but at least, it’s fun to imagine the “prequel”.

Also, past Precure are just badass. Fact.

Strangely enough, we didn’t get that for Heal. All we know is that she was called “Fuu” and was very close to Teatine.

Hmm. Probably one of those changes caused by COVID interference cuz I can’t imagine the writers choosing not to tell her past in the original draft.

With all that finally off my chest, I’m ready to part ways with you girls until the next All Stars (Nodoka, I’m gonna miss you so much! T_T)

HealPre wasn’t the worst and it was nowhere near the best that it had the potential to be. But it’s passable. At least for those who loved it even with its flaws, I’m genuinely glad it was good for you.

For those who are thinking about picking it up (although why you would read this spoilery post before watching, I have no idea), if you’re looking for a standard magical girl anime to enjoy casually, then this is a safe pick. If you really want to invest your attention and heart into it, though? Then perhaps it would be in your interest to ask someone who saw it already to help you filter out the episodes that are worth watching. You don’t need to worry about the rest, they’re inconsequential. :P

Ok then! Thanks for reading as always, brave souls who have reached this point.

Stay healthy and safe out there and I’ll see you at the beach next week! Tropic underwater paradise here we coooooommmmmeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!! xDDD

#i rage quit two drafts and an outline before i got anywhere with this #now if you'll excuse me i gotta catch up on my workout and play pokemon and eat pho later #and catch up on the ccs manga #livin' the healthy life oh yea~#healin' good precure #cure grace #cure fontaine #cure sparkle #cure earth #hanadera nodoka #sawaizumi chiyu #hiramitsu hinata #fuurin asumi #rabirin #pegitan #nyatoran #latte

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hibiscus02 · 4 years

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Unsolved Mysteries season 2 was definitely a downgrade compared to the first one. While season 1 had that random alien episode (which I did not watch, because I look into crime shows for actual crimes), it was otherwise very good. It seems like they got a bit lazier with the second part for some reason;

Episodes 1 and 5 are pretty solid within the concept of the show and I don't really have anything to add about them. 4/5 to both

Episode 2 was very intriguing even though there isn't a lot to go on, and it doesn't seem to be a popular case. I do hope it gets an update because again the whole thing is very interesting. 4.3/5

I've seen some people argue that Episode 3 doesn't quite fit the series format, which I agree to a certain point, but I have to say that despite that it's still probably one of my favorite episodes, it's so damn infuriating and shows just how truly sloppy police work can be, also the victims sister's testimonies are heart-wrenching at times. 4.8/5

I did not watch Episode 4. I'm incredibly annoyed that they felt the need to make an episode like this when there's an infinity of real unsolved/cold cases they could've picked. While the UFO episode in season 1 is also baffling, at least they had something to go on, while here they completely ditch the "unsolved mysteries" premise for paranormal stories that probably belongs in "A Haunting' instead. -1/5

Episode 6 appealed more to the emotional factor since there was no evidence to go on, but it still managed to be interesting and also very touching. 3.9/5

Final thoughts: While the first season took me weeks to finish since most of the episodes were either emotionally heavy or had tons of evidence to process, I binged season 2 with ease which does make me believe that the series lost a bit of it's essence in the way. I don't know if this is due to covid-related reasons and/or budget cuts but I do hope that it gets renewed again so they have a chance to choose better cases to talk about (and real cases, as opposed to episode 4). I still recommend the first season as a must watch but season 2 unfortunately didn't quite live up to it.

#unsolved mysteries #unsolved disappearance #unsolved case #unsolved murder #unsolved mysteries netflix #netflix #cold cases #cold case #crime shows #investigation #investigation shows

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teacherintransition · 3 years

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A Swift Kick in The Ass

The “Big Leap” or “Teacher in Transition” isn’t just a one time move that won’t ever need re-thinking… DO NOT settle in or rest on your laurels…

This gig only works if you keep challenging yourself…

“He not busy being born is busy dying…”

Bob Dylan

It is almost a year ago that I made the move; THE decision…retirement. It was a frightening series of contemplations that I worked over and over in my mind. Analysis and re-analysis, thinking what success would look like, what failure would mean; seeking advice dealing with the nay sayers that were just in my mind alone. You would not believe the entitlement to intrude that so many people think they have; it is beyond infuriating. “A person should work until at least sixty five… but a teacher is what you are … do you realize how much time there is to fill? … idle hands are the devil’s workshop (yes, I really got that one) … you won’t be able to afford it … isn’t retiring kind of selfish?” My responses followed: 1. What if you don’t make it to sixty five 2. I am a teacher and so much more 3. Yes and I’ll be filling it my way 4. Oh boy I hope so 5. Mind your business 6. Yes … yes it is selfish and we are all due that time. I could easily silence the unrequested advice with some Latin

“…vos manseritis in me, et vivat anima mea subjugale mutum animal,”

Throughout this year, I’ve shared advice regarding the best way to use time during this stage in life. The main points being: discover your loves, your skills and your dreams. I’ve never advocated throwing caution to the wind; well, maybe some, but a plan and goals were always part of the picture. With blind faith, I extolled the rewards of being able to finally pursue the dreams that were put on hold while you worked to pay bills. After a year has passed, I can deliver a verdict… it has been amazing.

Though Covid has altered everyone’s plans, for the most part, I’ve been able to accomplish many of my goals and some I never considered. My blog writing has taken off better that I expected; I’ve created a small online business and have sold more art in nine months than I have in my entire life; I’ve been published; I’ve done volunteer work for a dog rescue organization; I’m part of an international organization that promotes Scottish history; I walked 2 to 3 miles a day; I’ve tutored college students and more than these things have became accomplishments. I’ve read voraciously and during the middle of the summer, I plan to start my storytelling podcast. So, everyone lives happily ever after? …huh? …NO.

This is the trap I’ve fallen victim to recently. A satisfying retirement plan isn’t and cannot be a one and done. Yes, you must always ask yourself, “what’s next!” If you do a couple of great things and leave it at that; all you’ve done is take one more step than the guy who moved from work to the rocking chair. Like any rut or lifeless routine in life, one can easily get trapped if you’re not careful. My dalliance into despair started with a long cold I acquired during our “snowmageddon.” The cold kept me miserable for six weeks… my energy was sapped. The despair was further reinforced by the Covid rescheduling of two trips to Europe that have been in the planning for more than two years. It was the second year that Covid caused this and it was a real blow. Unbeknownst to me, I was allowing these disappointments to be excuses to slow down and feel pity. These are to be avoided at all costs… trust me, when you are the goal setter and your not setting any, things can get dreary quickly.

Without question, the benefits of being your own person can also be its drawbacks. You are in charge of keeping the ship afloat when things go wrong or they slow down. Disruptions can be more jolting when your 9 to 5 isn’t worked out for you. Ideas started slowing down and my mood took a downward turn. I could feel it … less than a year into this and I could feel the gears gumming up. It was apparent that I needed a swift kick in the posterior, the back of my front, the Gluteus Maximus, … I needed a kick in the ass! This kick would be delivered by a 4” 11’ veteran nurse of thirty three years… my wife.

There is always second guessing involved with this gig, can’t be avoided. Early in May, I was approached to apply for an Art teaching job at one of my former places of employment. Yes, I was considering… UNRETIREMENT! I spoke with my wife about it one afternoon and she hastily followed up with, “you want to do what?” Elaboration followed and was met again with, “you want to do what?” with an additional, “why are you even thinking that?” I explained to her what my mood was like of late and that I felt unfocused. Kim patiently reassured me that financially we were doing fine, but more to the point, she shared her observation that she hadn’t seen me so at ease and less stressed in many years and felt I was overreacting. To wit, I overreacted further and set up an interview. It went great, I was on my game, I still had it.

Later that afternoon, we were driving to Conroe to visit my brother and take one of our rescue dogs to a vet. Being quite coy, I revealed to Kim that I had gone to an interview and disappointment filled her facial expression. She asked, “well, how did it go?” “I killed it… it was out of the park!” She didn’t share my enthusiasm but did share some wisdom. She told me that I knew this would be tough making the change going into it and there was bound to be some rough spots. Kim was very aware that I missed my students tremendously, but she also knew how much I had accomplished. We talked on the drive down about things I had planned and that disappointment was inevitable and temporary. She reminded me that it had been a long time since she had seen me happy.

Then she did it … moved in on the power play, “haven’t you wanted to write a book?” Sheepishly I replied, “well, uh yeah … I guess.” For the rest of the drive, we fleshed out the book I wanted to write. I have started writing the book. This task wasn’t even on the radar when I thought of retiring; seven chapters and forty seven pages have been written in less than a week. It doesn’t matter if it’s not a best seller, it’s from my soul which had been darkened a bit the past few months. I knew and my wife knew I had a fire to create and she wasn’t going to let me forget. Ass kicked… in the best way possible.

Setbacks are inevitable and effort can be tough to keep going sometimes, but it’s always worth it. Whether it’s raising your kids, paying the mortgage or helping direct a lost kid, the best things in life are rewarding because of the struggle in accomplishing them. A rocking chair doesn’t require much effort keep the fire stoked.

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rainey-staerie-daize · 3 years

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02.12.21

Today was a bitch.

I finally snapped on Bry about keeping the family laptop in his room.

Mom said it and its charger are supposed to stay out here in the common areas, but every time he gets a hold of it, I don’t see it ‘til Sunday when he leaves for his dad’s house. Also, during a conversation with him earlier, Mom yelled from the living room about him going back to class, and we just looked at each other as he yelled back that he was. He was actually a few minutes late because he was playing Roblox, but he wasn’t about to tell Mom that. And I didn’t either, because I didn’t wanna start a fight, but I almost wish I did.

Xan wanted to charge his school laptop, but the only charger out here was for the family one, so I yelled for Bry, who’d taken his by mistake. And when he came out here to swap out the two, I yanked the family one out of his hands and put it on top of the printer next to me.

“So you want the family Chromebook to die?” (Mom’s spread the idea around here that the more something dies, the shorter its battery life gets. No idea if it’s true or not. Things might just wear out as they get older.)

I didn’t know what to say, and he stormed off.

I had enough, and after a second, stormed after him.

I yelled at him for being defiant as all Hell, and at some point I asked him if he was in school, or playing “with [his] stupid Roblox friends.” He said it was Roblox, and that the mic was on. Oops. He tried to shut the door on me, but I wedged myself in there, and shoved the door open. He got off the door, and I flew across the room and almost landed on the pile of toys (good thing I didn’t, because if I’d gotten seriously hurt, I usually don’t have the nerve to ask for medical attention).

Ended up wrestling him for the laptop (because nobody in this house seems to understand anything unless there’s physical force for some reason), which got pulled kinda hard, and he tried to kick me at some point, but I used my body weight against him and won. It was a struggle, because he’s apparently as strong as I am. Don’t know how, but he is.

Brought the laptop to the living room and set it next to the charger, and limply picked up one of Xan’s writing books, ready to continue reorganizing the desk, and I just fucking threw it and screamed because nobody ever listens to me. Not at the top of my lungs, and not for more than a second or two, but it briefly woke up Mom. And as she’s yelling to know what’s going on, I don’t respond as I open the door and leave.

Walking around the neighborhood was okay, I guess. Left the neighborhood onto the busy street we live near. Walked down a way that was kinda picturesque, with tall-ass trees. Saw a zip-lock baggie on the ground with two burritos in it, and came across a wash and an empty-feeling intersection.

Was kinda hot and disoriented after a while because I had left my mask at home and was breathing into my shirt for appearance’s sake (because I know damn well I don’t have COVID). Eventually, I decided to head back, wondering if anyone even came looking for me or if Mom had fallen asleep.

Got home, and was home for a few minutes (or half an hour? hard to tell) before Skye came through the door. Apparently, she was looking for me because “I can’t sleep apparently!” I guess my scream woke her up. She said she couldn’t find me, I told her I left the neighborhood, and she said she kinda figured I would and looked both directions. She couldn’t find me because I walked quite a ways down only the one by the Arco, which she told me was where she thought I was. Great minds think alike, I guess. She grabbed one of the last two ice cream cones in the freezer and went to our room, and I planned to take the other when I went out again.

Bry had taken the laptop and the charger off of the printer and was in his room playing on it again. No lessons learned here, it seems.

Used the bathroom, grabbed my flannel, hat, and compression socks because I like being a vampire, and left again at 4:20. Haha, LOL, blaze it.

Went a different way this time. Came across several neat things that I would’ve liked a pic of, but I didn’t bring my phone with me. I got used to the speed of the Chromebook, so now my phone just infuriates me. Saw an owl on a second-floor windowsill with eyes that seemed to follow me, and I toyed with the idea that the eyes were security cameras and the head would follow me as I walked away, but I was wrong about the head turning. Saw more than one playground with caution tape, and people at the park regardless, a house that had multiple owl decorations, plenty of neat architecture, and a park I didn’t know was nearby. Not like a tiny one for the neighborhood, but a BIG one. Lots of space. Signs said it doubled as a drainage ditch.

I thought the stairs leading into it would make a nice pic, with the orange late afternoon glow, but like I said, no camera. Wandered around for a bit. Thought I saw a bike in the distance and wanted to check it out, so I shielded my eyes from the sun (’cause the hat doesn’t do shit near sunset), but it wasn’t there when I got there. Checked out a map of the wash trail and tried to remember the names of the streets I passed, but no dice. Listened to the ice cream truck that only turned on its music after it saw me walking, and heard it move between different areas of the surrounding neighborhood. Just stood and looked around for a while, and it was nice. No siblings, no Mom, no time constraints. Full autonomy.

After a while, I started feeling kinda chilly, and I had to pee, so I headed home. Didn’t stop and observe my surroundings nearly as much, but I noticed the sun going behind some clouds and the sky turning a subtle rainbow. The park felt much more melancholy without the orange glow, but sunset always comes eventually. All good things come to an end.

Got home at 5:30, and the house is nearly dark. Whenever everyone is distracted by phones and Mom’s asleep, everyone forgets to turn the lights on.

It was okay, I guess. Skye was asleep again, and Bry came out of his room eventually. I forget if it was explained to me when I came home the first time or the second time, but I had apparently somehow damaged the keys to the laptop. Half of them wouldn’t work. Cue very low-key panic, which would’ve been more had I not been just absolutely tired of everything. I use this thing for SCHOOL for crying out loud! Well, that and Tumblr, but seriously?!

I asked to take a look at it, but I never got it.

Had to deal with Xan peeing on himself in Mom and Kare’s room, which Mom blamed on me taking too long in the bathroom once she woke up. I never actually used the toilet in there yet, was just taking two minutes to wash my hands, and Xan never came to this bathroom, but I don’t think she would’ve cared if I’d told her.

After I checked on Kare in the other bathroom, I snagged yet another of my compression socks on that damn staple by the door. I swear, it’s evil.

Finally got to take a look at the laptop, and concluded that it was the crooked hinge causing the issue, and tried to bend it back into place. Didn’t work. After a couple tries I accidentally scraped it kinda bad with the very sharp tool, and Bry messed around with his Bluetooth keyboard for a sec, making me think it was more broken than I had initially thought, and I almost cried.

At some point, I discovered that Kare not only disobeyed me when I said get out of the bathroom when Xan’s bathing, but Xan also splashed most of the floor outside the tub. Once again feeling like nobody listens to me, I decided to just let my feelings fester and try being mute again. Slapped another x of electrical tape over my mouth for a bit while Bry scolded the littles. I think I made it a couple hours before Mom told me to take it off. And I did then, because I was finally in an okayish mood then, but that’s later.

It was around this time in the story that Mom was woken up, and I moved my laptop operation into the bathroom. If I could get this fixed, then she would never have to know about it, and I would avoid getting yelled at. I decided to Google the problem (which I had to use the on-screen keyboard for), and I tried an EC reset. It worked.

Handed it back to Bry, because he was civil about giving it to me to fix and he was in the middle of some anime, and he asked if he could hug me. I’m not very comfortable with hugs, or a lot of emotions actually, so I just kinda sat there, but I appreciate that he thanked me.

I watched shorts on the TV, Kare joined me, and I barely started Up before Xan fucked with me by using the other remote to turn the TV off. Ended up starting up a different movie, that he got to pick. Mom’s glasses arrived, I told her about the pee via whiteboard, and she eventually got me to take the tape off. She has no idea about the laptop, and probably not that I left the house for a while. I let Bry know that I want to use the laptop for school on Saturday, and he gave it to me shortly before dinner, to my surprise. Said something about not being able to play with his friends until Sunday, and he’ll be at his dad’s then.

All in all, a Hell of a day, but I got some serenity for a little bit.

#Raine's daize #I think this is the longest I've ever taken to type a post #someone should probably teach me how to put things under the cut #or I could just Google it #sometimes Skye and I forget that we have the world's largest information source at our fingertips: the internet

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randomoranges · 3 years

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that awk moment when you realise 1.6k words in that you’ve written something nearly verbatim a few months back and completely forgotten about it. but then you throw a throwaway line to fix it all like some shitty tape on a broken pipe and go yeah, that’ll do it. XD i swear the rest is meant to be new.

A Conversation

end nov/early dec 2020

Étienne let’s himself in after a long walk with Mercury. It’s late afternoon by now and he expects to find Edward bustling about or lounging on the sofa, but the house is quiet. He doesn’t think much of it and unleashes Mercury, before he starts removing his winter gear. Edward had asked him if he wanted company on his walk, but Étienne had declined. He didn’t mind, usually, but he wanted to go alone today. He needed the space and thankfully, Edward hadn’t pushed. It’s strange to think that he has a preferred route now – that he knows where to go and which street to turn on. He doesn’t need the GPS on his phone anymore to find his way back and it must say something about how long he’s exiled himself. Still, as far as exiles are concerned, this is pretty good.

Mercury follows him to the living room and it’s where Étienne finds Calvin, curled up, busy looking at his phone. Calvin looks up when he feels Étienne looking at him and offers him a brief smile. Étienne returns it and it feels as though it’s the first time the two of them are alone in Edward’s house in a really long time. In fact, Étienne can’t think of the last time that happened. (Summer, most like – well, late spring, before he left.) Calvin’s back as well now, for a stretch or so, and that should be interesting as well. He’d come for an extended weekend over his birthday at the start of the month, but then had to return to his own home for work and such.

Étienne still wonders if Calvin hadn’t simply been polite and the bigger man and had given both Edward and he some much needed time alone before returning for the final stretch to the holidays. He wouldn’t be surprised, honestly, and it reminds him that he needs to get Calvin a decent gift to thank him for literally everything. (Just getting him something for his birthday had been an adventure. Edward had told him he didn’t need to. He had insisted. Calvin had been nice enough to him over the summer – had gone so far as to get him a present as well. It was the very least he could do. He’d asked Edward. Edward had been very unhelpful.)

(For starters, Edward had laughed. Then, he’d told him that Calvin was super easy to buy for. Étienne could get him something with horses and Calvin would be happy. Étienne thought it was too easy and impersonal. Plus, he’d seen the man’s collection. He did not need any more horses.

“Don’t get him anything for the kitchen. He’ll use it twice, forget about it and not even notice when I abscond with it. Actually, I need a new potato peeler, if you’re wondering.” Edward had told him.

Edward had suggested leather polishes and other fancy cleaning products. Étienne had said they were stupid gifts.

“I’m trying to help, Maisonneuve, I swear he’d appreciate those!”

It wasn’t that Étienne didn’t trust Edward (God knew he did), but – he wanted something nice and thoughtful.

“I mean, you can always get him some nice teas – he likes those. There’s always scotch and whiskey, but that’ll set you back. Also, he’s finicky about his scotch and whiskey. Books are a tossup, unless you find that One Book he’ll really like. He likes art books, believe it or not and obviously, anything with horses, landscapes, etc.”

“Ooh, he’s been going on about wanting some new fancy writing supplies! I’m sure you could find something nice in that regards. Or, yarn.” (Étienne had blinked at that.) “He likes to knit,” Edward had shrugged. “You can get him some real wool – like sheep or alpaca or something. Obviously, there’s a chance he’ll then make you something with the yarn you got him, but he honestly doesn’t really remember when that happens.” Edward had said as if talking from experience.

“He’s really easy to buy for,” Edward had reiterated and Étienne had not been convinced. “Like you can get him a bar of fancy soap and a tie and he’ll be happy. Hell, anything that’s gimmicky but with a theme will go as well. The options are endless. This isn’t hard, Maisonneuve. If anything, I think you’re harder to shop for.” (Étienne had taken much offence to that. Edward had laughed in his face.)

Étienne had eventually settled for a mishmash of things. (Some teas from back home, an anthology on the evolution of horse paintings, some nice smelling soaps.) Calvin had been delighted. He’d counted it as a win.)

He’s still not convinced the whole situation wouldn’t have played out the same had the cards been reversed, but at this point in time, he’s done wondering about it. He’s just glad he gets to spend time with Edward. Anything else is really a bonus, at this time.

He takes a seat on the opposite side of the couch and Mercury makes herself at home between them, with her head on his lap. Étienne caresses the top of her head and scratches behind her ears, lost in his own thoughts. They’re quiet, for a moment, and Étienne takes this time to observe Calvin. He looks – not like his usual self, if Étienne can say that. His jaw is set and there’s stiffness to his shoulders that isn’t usually there. He’s seen this look before, has seen it reflected in the mirror time and again and Étienne wonders if he should bring it up.

“Edward’s out running errands.” Calvin offers as if feeling Étienne’s quiet observation. He hides behind it like a barricaded wall and Étienne blinks, wondering if he miss-stepped. “There was a sale on something he was out of or some such. He should be back soon.” The words are a little flat and the usual infuriating cheerful edge to Calvin seems to have evaporated for the moment. It’s not really his problem, he knows, but he’s aware that Edward will worry and that’s enough incentive for him to prod the sleeping lion at his own risk.

“You okay?” He asks, straightforward and to the point. He’s dealing with his own bullshit and for as much as he’d like to be more tactful and subtle, he simply doesn’t have the energy for it, but he has concern.

Calvin looks in his direction and passes a nervous hand through his hair. Calvin’s hair has gotten long as well, as if they’re both competing for the longest ‘do. It’s going back to the style Étienne had most often seen him with, if anything, whereas his is reaching lengths that haven’t been seen in over forty-five years. Still, Étienne recognises the anxious gesture for what it is and he jostles Mercury a little so that he can sit a little closer. Calvin’s fingers are a riot on his thighs, unable to stay still for a beat. They play with his phone, the phone case, the decorative pillow, the edge of his sweater. They tug, touch, squeeze, and brush all in a matter of seconds as if performing a staccato no one can hear.

“Yeah – I’m fine.”

The briefest hesitation is what gives him away. Étienne may not know Calvin as well as he does Edward, (and he may not know Calvin as well as Edward does), but he’s spent enough time in his orbit to know that something is off. He’s also spent enough time analysing his own past dips and curves in his mood to recognise it in others as well. The signs are all there and Étienne just wonders if he hadn’t bothered picking up on them earlier or if they’re new from today. Perhaps, he thinks, Edward’s little absence has simply given Calvin’s sudden change in mood the opportunity to manifest itself. With nothing left to occupy it, his mind had simply brought forward the anxieties and worries that had been slowly growing and simmering in the back.

Étienne sympathises with the fellow. He’s been there far too many times.

“Covid blues?” He asks, tone light. He knows that he and Calvin aren’t necessarily close. They’re – acquaintances, really, maybe a step above, but he’s not sure they’re friends. At least, he doesn’t think Calvin would consider him one. Not now, anyways. If anything, they’re really just both madly in love and shagging the same guy and somehow or other have agreed that the best course of action is to take that as the new normal and build around it.

Sometimes, it feels like his life has turned into a telenovela. At least, in his case, everyone is aware of who is sleeping with whom and all the parties have consented to it.

Still. He knows it sounds particular.

Anyways.

He doesn’t want to push Calvin if he doesn’t want to talk about it, but he also knows from experience that sometimes, reaching out to talk to someone feels like a Herculean task and that it’s easier when someone else breeches the topic. He wants Calvin to know that he’ll listen if he needs to blow some steam, but that he’ll respect him if he needs space.

“It’s just – it’s been a lot, I guess.” Calvin says after a lapsed moment of silence.

Étienne gets it. That was him, before. It’s still him, but he’s had more time to let the reality eat and consume him. He still can’t sleep at night and there are times when he’s out somewhere where he feels overwhelmed and freaks out thinking he’s going to accidentally kill someone because he can’t die and therefore, might just be passing on the virus to unsuspecting people. But he tries his best to keep those thoughts under control.

“It’s okay to feel like shit.” He offers. He brings his hand closer to Calvin’s thigh, as if wanting to place it there to offer him comfort, but he’s not sure if it’s too much. Instead, he leaves it close to Calvin, palm up and inviting, in case the other man wants to take it. Calvin hesitates, lifts his hand, and then dithers for a moment, but then latches on. Étienne offers it a reassuring squeeze. He’s been in Calvin’s place before – he’s still in Calvin’s place.

It’s taken him a long time to be okay with that – the idea that he’s allowed to not be okay. He’s allowed to live his negative emotions, even if sometimes it takes him a little while longer than most to bounce back. The important part is to bounce back. “This is a hot fucking mess.” He adds for good measure.

“I’ve seen hotter messes on legs. Too bad this one can’t be brought to bed and fucked.”

Étienne does a double take and has to look back to make sure he hasn’t hallucinated those words – that Calvin Goody Two Shoes McCall has actually said those words. He blinks and lets a laugh escape his throat. It’s contagious, and soon, another one joins, while Calvin cracks a small amused smile.

“You’ve been holding out on me, McCall. I didn’t think you were funny.” He teases. He’s dealt with a few of Calvin’s sides – from over eager to childlike. He’s ignored some as well, he knows, and has probably missed out on others, but this side is refreshing. It reminds him that Calvin has a whole personality he likes to hide as much as he does. Something about protective barriers once more. He gets it – he’s done the same, subconsciously or not, but, it has to mean something if Calvin is letting a few morsels shine through.

“Heck, Edward’s a hotter mess than this,” Calvin says with a chuckle of his own and Étienne clutches at his sides and laughs some more. They get stuck and absorbed in a giggle fit that doesn’t seem to want to end for some time and the distraction is good on both their nerves.

When their giggles finally die down, they wipe at their eyes and resettle on the couch. Étienne picks up Calvin’s hand again and the action comes naturally to them both. They fall into a comfortable quietude that’s a little less lonely and solitary than before, as if bonded by the good joke. Étienne wants to let it be and move on, but there is more he wants to say – more he feels he needs to say. This would be easier if he could put his thoughts to paper, but Calvin is sitting right beside him and it would be a little silly.

Maybe.

He considers it for a moment.

“You know,” He finally starts and figures he might as well. He has the chance now and Calvin looks like he could use a little pick me up, “I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you.”

Calvin turns and looks at him, quizzical expression obvious on his face. He opens his mouth and Étienne figures he’s about to either tell him that he has, multiple times, for enduring him over summer, or either to ask him what for, but Étienne cuts him off before he can say either of those things.

“For – being cool about this.” He gestures to himself and hopes that Calvin will understand what he implies by the gesture. He knows they’ve more or less had this same conversation over the summer, but – there is more he needs to say and he hopes he can get to it, even if it means rehashing some of what was covered over the summer.

Calvin looks surprised and blinks as if processing the information. He starts to form a smile, but then let’s it fall and shrug, “What choice did I really have?” He admits and Étienne admires him for his honesty.

“You could have said no.”

“And what would that have brought me?” Calvin sighs and then tugs at the sleeve of his shirt, “Look, I’ll be honest, I did think about it. At first. I mean – when Edward told me – it – explained things, but, it made me worry that I was just – temporary to him. That eventually he’d go back to you. And when he didn’t, I figured, well, it worked. I got the guy, now I got to have my happily ever after. But – I could tell that he missed you. In some way. And when the both of you reconnected – I thought about it. Of saying no. Of not being okay with it – with his feelings for you. That wouldn’t have gotten me anywhere. It would have made him miserable. He could’ve resented me for it. So I figured my best chance was to say yes and hope that your island didn’t magically get closer or something.” He tries a smile for a moment and then falls serious again.

“It’s complicated, but I’d like to think that in the end, it’ll be a win for all of us.”

Étienne lets the words float in the air for a moment. Let’s them sink into his mind as he plays them over. Calvin has a point, somehow.

“Y’know,” He starts a moment later, pulling at the zipper of his sweater, “I – don’t hate you, yeah?” It sounds lame, said like that, but he means it. He doesn’t hate Calvin. He’s not sure what it is they are, or how it is he feels about him, but hate is not what it is. Respect? Appreciation? Maybe.

Calvin laughs, quiet and soft, from his side of the couch, “I don’t hate you either, Maisonneuve, believe it or not.”

He knows, obviously, but hearing it settles something inside of him, as if there had been some doubt, even so many months later. “I know – but – I guess, y’know, before it didn’t matter. You were just – someone. At most, you were my brother’s annoying friend, but it didn’t matter who you were, in the grand scheme of my life. But then you became someone. It mattered. Who you were mattered.” He thinks back to those rare times he’d run into Calvin and how he’d found him annoying at best. Calvin was one of those young and up and coming cities and that was that. He endured his company when needed, but Étienne had other friends to spend time with and Calvin was just another work colleague.

He found out more about Calvin through Edward – through the stories and tales Edward had related to him over the years and the ones Samuel had mentioned in passing. But even then, Calvin had never been necessary to him. It had changed after. Once he’d stopped hearing from Edward. Once his letters had gone unanswered.

He’d – noticed the friendship between Calvin and Edward more. Saw how they were at the few meetings he bothered attending. He envied the easiness of their friendship. The openness of it. Even if they were only friends, he missed having that with Edward and so he allowed himself to hate Calvin for it. He allowed himself to find Calvin silly and stupid and childish. Narrow-minded. Dumb. Selfish. Whatever fault he could find in him – whatever soothed the burning, angry gash that gnawed on his heart.

And then. And then he’d found out. Later. After it happened. Somehow, he found out about the new nature of Calvin and Edward’s relationship and the jealous monster inside of him had feasted on the news. Of all people, Calvin. How the mighty had fallen.

He’d wanted to hate Calvin. Oh, how he had wanted to hate the man who had stolen Edward’s heart away from him, but – was it really Calvin’s fault? It had to be. Surely it was. It was the only explanation Étienne wanted to believe in and so he’d let his emotions get the best of him. He nursed his hurt and jealousy and let them both fester.

The only problem was – the only problem was that there were moments when he caught glimpses of Calvin that went against this mental image he had built in his mind.

The first time Calvin had invited him to brunch, Étienne had been convinced it was to gloat. He’d refused the invitation, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He figured Calvin would get the message and leave it at that. But soon, another invite found its way to his mailbox, written and printed in perfect cursive, and Étienne had actually thought of going, but then hadn’t.

Eventually, he decided to go – out of boredom and under some veiled threat from Emma, gently reminding him that even if he didn’t attend meetings, it didn’t mean he had to avoid everyone. And so he’d gone. He’d sat and mopped and done his best not to bond with the others. Especially Lucas. Especially Calvin. But, for as much as he’d gone to find an out and a reason to hate Calvin even more, for as much as he’d thought he could keep blaming him for the way things had ended with Edward, he realised he couldn’t.

With time, between one brunch and the next, he’d realised that he’d avoided them out of some type of fear – that he didn’t belong, that Calvin just wanted to remind him of that. Instead, it turned out that Calvin just wanted friends – that Calvin too wanted to belong and that maybe these brunches were an excuse to hang out – a gang of misfits that felt maybe a little out of place in the world.

And he couldn’t hate Calvin for that. Couldn’t fault him for wanting to find friends. (And, really, what did that make him out to be, if Calvin wanted to be friends with him? Of all people.) It didn’t mean that his dark thoughts magically went away. There were still times when Étienne was convinced Calvin was simply playing him; waiting for him to have his guard down before rubbing it in his face that he was now dating Edward – that Edward didn’t miss him as much as he missed Edward. As a friend.

But Calvin never said anything, never brought it up and never rubbed it in and slowly, but surely, Étienne started to see Calvin as his own person. As someone – who could be – given the time – a friend. He still wasn’t sure why he went – maybe as penance, maybe as some self-imposed hurdle he had to go through, but he went, he exchanged, and life went on.

At least, if anything, it allowed him to find out snippets on how Edward was doing. Even if the other two didn’t know of the nature of Edward and Calvin’s relationship, they knew of their friendship and that they lived close by. Étienne always perked up at those points, hoping his former friend former lover was doing well and he filed all the information for himself. (He dared to ask, once, when the weight of the silence had gotten the best of him. When he’d been feeling a little lonelier and rawer than usual. He’d asked, in passing, quiet, while the others had been busy dressing up, if Edward was okay – if – if he was happy and Calvin had looked at him – really looked as if – reading something in him – and he’d said he was. That Edward was happy. It was all Étienne needed to know.)

“You’re not a bad person.” He reiterates and gives Calvin a long look. He needs Calvin to know. Needs him to understand that whatever ill feelings he harboured then, it was a different time, and he’d been in a different place. It had been easier to put all the blame on Calvin. To paint him as some bad guy who’d come to wreck his small parcel of happiness, but really, the one to blame had been himself. He’d gone and fucked it all up. Calvin had simply been the better friend to Edward, in the end.

But now he gets to try again. He gets a second shot and Calvin has been kind enough to let him try and if this is to work, then he needs Calvin to understand these things.

Calvin seems a little shocked by the comment, clearly not expecting it. He goes quiet as he tries to process the words and Étienne wonders if he’s been clear enough. “You – I guess – thank you, you know? For being there? For caring for Edward when I wasn’t there? For – not thinking I’m a home wrecker and all that.” He’s still not convinced any of this has made any sense, but Calvin offers him a quiet smile which he returns again. Perhaps, he thinks, this is the way they will communicate; in exchanges of quiet, shy smiles.

“I’d never think that.”

For a moment, Étienne wonders who’s comforting who, when Calvin gives his hand a squeeze. He has no idea where this will lead them to – how everything will work out, but he’d like to think that whatever it is – that if anything, he gets a – friend out of Calvin. That, if anything, they can hang out together, at the very least. It would be nice, he thinks. He’d like to believe that he’d enjoy it.

“Thank you,” He says, for what feels like the millionth time. It seems that’s all he’s saying to Calvin these days. One day, Calvin will grow tired of hearing him say thank you at every drop of a hat.

“I should thank you as well, you know. For – well, everything as well. Giving me a chance too and such.”

Étienne blinks. He hadn’t thought of it that way. He’d only been keeping his head low and trying not to be too much in the way. Not wanting to step all over Calvin and Edward’s happiness. Not take up too much space as a third wheel.

“Don’t give me that look – you’re a good person too, you know?”

Étienne laughs at that. He doubts it.

“I mean it. The proof is you’re sitting here with me trying to lift my mood. You’re concerned about me. Means something.”

Étienne opens his mouth to say something, but then shuts it closed. He’s still convinced he’s in it for his own selfish reasons, but maybe Calvin is right. He’d like to hope he is. He’d like to think of himself as slightly less selfish. As someone good. Someone worthy of good. If anything, however, Calvin looks less tense and when he next smiles, it reaches his eyes a little more. Étienne finds himself relieved, but doesn’t question it. His feelings and opinions on Calvin might still be a complicated tangle, but – he wants Calvin to be happy. He squeezes his hand again and then links their fingers together, leaving the support there if needed. They fall quiet again, but this time, it feels a little more companionable, even if they don’t say anything. It’s nice, is what it is and Étienne finds he wouldn’t mind more of this.

Calvin eventually returns to his phone and Étienne resumes petting his dog, but their joined hands remain clasped together until Edward returns home.

FIN

#pc: montreal #pc: calgary #calvin BRISEBOIS LOL #calvin something #étienne maisonneuve #fic #projocanondoko

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dxmedstudent · 4 years

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Hey, I was wondering about how you deal with people not wearing masks, I mean emotionally deal with it? It makes me so mad personally and I'm not even in the medical field. I'm just so frustrated and disappointed with people, on top of being scared for all of us. Not to put the emotional labour on you, feel free to ignore this of course. I'm just curious how you deal with it, because you seem so calm and reasonable but it must be infuriating on a daily basis for you too.

Hey, it’s OK. I answer questions when I feel that I can, so don’t worry about it. You’re right, it’s disappointing to see people out there without masks. I don’t go out often (my only 3 destinations are work, groceries - though that’s practically at work in my case, and my BF now that we’re allowed to be together) but when I do venture out I do notice that a lot of people aren’t wearing masks, and there isn’t always a lot of social distancing going on, particularly on high streets. It’s honestly more worrying for me than anything else. It makes me wonder if we’ll see more cases soon, and if my life will be upheaved yet again. During the peak, a lot of medical services were suspended - routine care for a lot of specialties was affected. People couldn’t (and still mostly can’t) visit their loved ones in hospital. Health workers (including domestics and porters) were particularly at risk of catching or spreading the virus. Many of us became isolated from our support network as the country locked down. As I’ve discussed before, it’s been a very different process for everyone depending on their particular life circumstances.

It upsets me more, actually, that people are acting as if the entire thing is over. Some point after the Dominic Cummings breaking the rules debacle, the lockdown started to be rapidly lifted, and all the media revolved aroound how “lockdown is over” - but the virus is still very much around, and people are still getting sick and dying. I feel like that is being minimised - particularly now the government has toned down its briefings and the numbers arent publicised as much any more. I feel that people are being manipulated into thinking it’s much closer to ending than it is - because deep down, we all want to believe that this was a short blip that can go away as soon as possible. But those who are shielding will still face tough choices when it comes to deciding how many risks to take. Cases are increasing globally. In healthcare, we’re trying to return services as normal as possible whilst readying for a second peak at any time. I look at the local lockdowns in Leicester and Melbourne, and the way cases are surging in some countries, and I have to conclude that this will be a part of my reality as a doctor and as a private individual for some time. We will all have to make tough choices about which of the freedoms that we are allowed we will choose - and how to keep minimising our risks. For example, my BF and I had a chat about restaurants, cinemas etc opening up and when we’d feel it was appropriate to start going ‘out’ again. As we’re allowed to meet more friends and family in a socially distanced fashion, we’ll all have to do our best to keep apart and avoid spreading germs as much as possible. And yes, if our friends are being cheeky and breaking the rules, we’ll have to do our best to gently remind them why they exist. I think that a lot of it is to do with inconsistent messaging during the pandemic. We’ve had waffling from official sources whether masks are helpful or not. This lost valuable time and also faith in scientific sources. And after that in the UK, government guidance has remained wishy washy - what it really needed was a stern ‘you can’t be out in public without a mask’. In fact, the whole de-escalaiton of the slogans from ‘stay home’ to ‘stay alert etc’ to me felt like a wishy washy license for people to do what they want. People needed clearer guidance on how to maintain appropriate distance. I feel similarly about the relaxation of the 2m rule - the evidence is complex, but in general it’s safer for people to stay further apart. However, there’s been a lot of economic pressure for the government to get everyone working and spending again. I worry about how many people are losing jobs and will continue to lose jobs - many are caught between the risks of catching covid and the risks of joblessness in a massive recession. I feel unspeakably privileged to have a secure job and to be able to find my next job easily as a doc - even though I’m at high risk of catching covid (and did) in the line of work. I appreciate that the effectos of this are far bigger and more complex than people dying of covid alone -there will the the people dying of other preventable things, and the massive economic effects on people from the aftermath of this all. We’re in a massively complex situation right now with no easy answers. Currently the rule for compulsory masks its enforced on public transport - I’ve seen London Underground staff pull people up on not wearing a face covering, and I think that’s appropriate in this context. But I’d really prefer to see masks in all public contexts - shopping, waiting for the bus, etc. This is not going to go away quickly, so we’re going to have to adapt to living our lives more socially distanced from strangers for the forseeable future. I don’t see things returing to normal any time soon, and that saddens me. I wear a mask in public, particularly on transport. I wear a mask at work. Mainly because it’s the rules, and because it’s my role to set an example, and also put everyone at ease - both as a doc and as a civilian walking down the street. I might have antibodies, but who would know that? And anyhow, who’s to say I’m immune, anyway?We don’t know what level of antibodies grant us immunity, or even how long we might be immune if that’s the case. We don’t know how many people catch it and then don’t develop immunity. We all need to wear masks whenever we’re out in public, and do what we can to encourage appropriate social distancing as much as possible.

#covid-19 journal #personal #my life #Anonymous

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