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indigovigilance · 15 days

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Bullet Theory

Thesis: Crowley passed Aziraphale a bullet during the Final Fifteen kiss. This bullet contains his memories. He tucked it under his tongue, then began to access the memories during the ride up the elevator.

Edit: debunked by God himself, in response to this post. As a reminder, please don’t send fan theories to NG.

Proof:

Glint in the mouth

Inspo credit to this post by @somehow-a-human

Yeah so we were already paying way too much attention to that very special four-letter word we thought Aziraphale was going to say, but it so happens that during that cut-off phoneme is the only time you can see this shiny object in his mouth. (catching this on the right frame was emotionally painful and I’m sending Gavin Finney my therapy bills (actually no I’m not I love you very much sir)).

So that’s the basis of this theory. Crowley passed Aziraphale a bullet that he then tucks under his tongue.

Add’l Evidence Post-Kiss

Aziraphale works his jaw after raising his fingers to his lips: [gif]

Then when the Metatron comes in, he turns his back on the Metatron and raises his hand. I originally thought he was wiping his eyes. Now I think he’s raising his hand to his mouth, maybe to spit out the bullet, maybe to make sure it’s secured under his tongue.

Credits Scene

Aziraphale has the craziest fucking look on his face through the credits, we can all agree. But towards the end, his eyes flicker back and forth, as if he is watching or reading something. Then he smiles. I hypothesize that he is still accessing his memories during this time, and getting the information he needs to [redacted].

Thematic Justification: The Bullet Catch

Aziraphale having a bullet in his mouth as part of a two-man act of deception is not a fresh concept by the time we get to The Final Fifteen.

Additionally, the use of surreptitious modes of communication, where messages are passed from person to person inaudabily, is introduced in this same magic trick.

NB1: I wish I could credit the person who I first saw point this out (relatively recently). It wasn’t even tagged as meta, I don’t think. But the gist was there’s some parallelism between “aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear” and the “pin the lips on the lips” move that Crowley pulls in the Final Fifteen. If I find it I will properly cite.

NB2: One hypothesis that has circulated around, I think creditable to @sendarya, is that Aziraphale mouths “trust me” to Crowley just before he gets on the elevator. This isn’t necessary to the Bullet Theory but it would be thematically consistent.

Small objects carry memories

Why a bullet? Well, it’s a small object that has meaningful significance between the pair of people involved, much like:

Beelzebub introduces us to the idea that a small object like a fly can be used as a storage container for memories. We also see that the object entering the body of the person is a viable way for the memories to be delivered.

(btw Jon Hamm if you’re reading this, you have very pretty eyes)

“I keep a derringer in a hollowed out book”

K, so it’s not like Crowley is just carrying a bullet loaded with Aziraphale’s memories around with him at all times, is it? (I mean, it could be, but probably not. I’ll just point you to this meta for my theories on why, if Crowley had anything that needed to be kept safe, he would keep it in the bookshop.)

We learn in S2E4 that Aziraphale keeps a gun in a hollowed out book somewhere in the shop. A gun wouldn’t be any good without bullets, right? This may not be the reason the derringer was left as a Chekhov’s Gun for S3, but it’s a possibility. If Crowley wasn’t already in possession of a bullet, he knew that he could find one in the shop. Even more likely, the exact bullet used in the 1941 magic trick is a precious keepsake being kept somewhere in the bookshop, and Crowley chose to use that exact bullet because of the memories already directly attached to the object.

Why Aziraphale even has memories to be returned to him

We know that Aziraphale could have had his mind wiped because Heaven has done it before. Certainly once. Probably twice. We know this because when Metatron is announcing that Gabriel, alongside having his memories erased, is being demoted to 38th class, Muriel pipes up and reminds us that they are 37th class:

So this wasn’t a “just Gabriel” thing. Mind-wiping is a routine form of personnel management in Heaven. There is NO reason for us to believe that it didn’t happen to Aziraphale. But in case you need a reason to believe it, here goes:

We know from our interactions with Jim that the person whose memories are missing (1) doesn’t necessarily know and (2) isn’t necessarily distressed by that fact, even if they do. Muriel also fits this “cheerful empty shell” archetype. You know who else does? Ding ding ding. The one and only A. Z. “wiggles with delight” Fell.

I can already hear your very valid counter-argument. This guy is actually terrified out of his mind on any given day that his romance with a demon will be discovered. Yes. Because he’s involved in a romance with a demon. The other two angels we’ve met don’t have this issue. Beyond that, though, these three characters share more in common with each other disposition-wise than any of them do with the other angels we’ve met (Uriel, Michael, Sandolphon, etc.).

We also know that Aziraphale has been [demoted] at some point from Cherub to Principality. This is book canon:

"Technically Aziraphale was a Principality, but people made jokes about that these days."

This has also been confirmed (insofar as Neil Gaiman ever confirms anything) by Word of God:

(marketing video screengrab clipped for brevity)

We don’t know for sure it was a demotion, but I think we have enough evidence to infer that with a high degree of confidence.

Anyways.

Summary: Aziraphale is a cheerful angel who was demoted and has a name that is not biblical canon. This evidence indicates that was probably mind-wiped. This is not the first time I’m proposing this. It won’t be the last.

How Crowley Did It

My meta on Continuity Errors gives the complete proof for why I believe that Crowley is able to stop time without Aziraphale knowing, and I propose in that meta that the kiss was a cover-up for the exertion of effort necessary to pull that off. I further proposed that during the pause, he retrieved something from the bookshop. At the time of writing, I didn’t know what. Now, I have an inkling that it was a bullet.

If you need a refresher on Clock Theory, here’s one. The idea is that the clock behind Aziraphale shifts by fifteen minutes from before the kiss to after the kiss. This is consistent with a theory that Crowley paused time (but the clock kept running) in order to retrieve the bullet, dump Aziraphale’s memories into it if he hadn’t already, and then return to transfer the bullet to Aziraphale.

Why Crowley Kept the Secret So Long

As with Continuity Errors, I am ending this meta with a very unsatisfactory “I don’t know.” The motivation for Crowley to keep Aziraphale’s memories from him until the very moment he’s about to leave must have been a strong one. I think it has something to do with why Crowley was so insistent on trying to get Aziraphale to run away with him, instead of dealing with whatever’s coming. But as with Continuity Errors, I suspect that the good omens meta hivemind (and the vast collection of people who are posting clues, you have no idea how important you are) will assemble yet more breadcrumbs that we can follow to some sort of hypothesis.

Until then,

(here's my meta index if you would like to read more stuff like this)

#good omens meta #bullet theory #the final fifteen #crowley #aziraphale #good omens gabriel #good omens muriel #good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #good omens theory #good omens speculation #good omens analysis #good omens clues

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butch-reidentified · 4 months

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1. What is a woman?

Argument for Using "Cis-Identifying"

And related: A conversation with a "NERF" about radical feminism, gender identity ideology, and what we/I actually believe.

2. Inform yourself on some of the work I've done for trans people before you continue the trend of cowardly hypocrisy.

3. My thread responding to the way much of the tumblr trans community handled my sharing my story of surviving the 2016 Pulse Nightclub shooting (often by stealing my lived trauma and removing my url) is easily one of the most - if not the most - important posts pertaining to trans discourse I've made to date, and Tumblr won't let me pin it. Of course. So here it is. And a bonus: This lovely ask.

4. Hope for Women (this is a very new project, WIP)

About Me:

I am a butch lesbian, married to a badass gnc (but not butch) radfem lesbian goddess whose misandry surpasses even my own; she does have tumblr but rarely uses it - @psychichologramnightmare is hers. I'm 27/Taurus/May baby, though I'll be real, I've never liked astrology and found my birth chart n whatnot always laughably wildly inaccurate to me (sorry astrology girlies). Former competitive rock climber, still in love with hiking and climbing. Wilderness survivalist. Trained & armed woman, advocate for female-only firearm ownership.

My wife and I run our own business, and bought our first home together at 24 & 25 respectively - it's a lovely 4/3 on a quarter acre where we have 5 mango trees and more, plan to start growing our own food and herbs, foster kittens, and provide free housing (and more) regularly for those in need. We do a LOT of IRL feminist action/work/organizing. I post about some of that work pretty often, but I couldn't possibly post about all of it (even if it were safe to do so). I am basically organizing (mostly offline, but some online as well) full-time now.

Survivor of abuse, CSA + captivity, trafficking in my teens where I was forced into porn as a minor, the Pulse Nightclub shooting in Orlando 2016, and more. I am no longer affected by any of these in any negative psychological manner. I own my past, every moment of it, and wouldn't change a thing I've experienced. What I often tell people is, "I'm not glad it happened; I'm glad I was there."

I got my Bachelor's in Neuroscience/Neuropsych, used to work in a top neuro research lab, and have been a coauthor on a peer-reviewed scientific journal publication. I wrote my undergraduate thesis on POTS, ADHD, some of the relevant epigenetics, and norepinephrine dysregulation. I was diagnosed with Ehlers-Danlos & POTS in 2015, before pretty much anyone had heard of them (including most doctors). My POTS is very well-managed now, but chronic pain from EDS is more of a struggle.

I practice witchcraft as a form of artistic expression. I don't consider myself spiritual as I've had a lifelong inability to "believe," but I am particularly passionate about lesbian-centered/lesbian-exclusive (esp butch & gnc lesbian) witchcraft. I am open to commissions for spell jars/sachets on a purely donation basis (we recently were victims of identity theft and are still struggling to recover, but I'll do them for free happily). This is essentially artistic expression to me, something to express love and sisterhood - why I'm not actually charging or anything and will even pay shipping and materials myself if you'd like one but don't want to/can't donate. To me, it's very similar to commissioning a painting or something of the sort, and I deeply enjoy the process of making them, esp for other women, the love that goes into doing so. See tags: #witchcraft, #brujeria.

Adoptee with complex history. Adoption-critical but not abolitionist - I plan to adopt with my wife in a couple years. I've talked a fair bit about my experiences, adoption trauma, ethical adoption, and more. Check out my tags such as #ethical adoption, #adopted, #adoptee, and so forth (tagged on this post for easy accessibility).

I spent many years surrounded by majority-trans-identifying friends/acquaintances both irl and online, deeply involved in trans spaces & activism, and even identified for a bit & was on T for a while. I am not "uneducated" or unfamiliar with trans-identifying people, their experiences, or gender identity ideology in general. You, like me back then, very probably have been lied to about radfems ("terfs") and what we believe and fight for. I am happy to talk in good faith (provided you do the same) 1 on 1 with anyone who is curious about what we actually believe and what we stand for, what common radfem takes on gender identity ideology & trans identity actually are and why.

I have a history of purely physical sex dysphoria (physical sensation like pain or itching). I got "top surgery" (elective mastectomy) due to this and other reasons: constant painful breast cysts & very large breasts (DDD even when I weighed under 100 lbs). I was not trans-identifying by the time I got this surgery (though I tried to briefly identify as nb/transmasc just bc I felt obligated, but hated it). I have never wanted to be a man socially and genuinely hated the very thought. I came out the womb feminist, got in trouble throughout primary school for fighting boys who tried to pull sexist bullshit, always lowkey believed in female superiority (I mean just look at our biology, lifespans, pain tolerance, the things we've done throughout history despite violent patriarchal oppression...). I spent years preparing myself. I read from & spoke to women who regretted this surgery, challenged myself at every turn, dove deep into my mind and thought processes, tried alternative treatment attempts, worked with a non-affirming therapist, made sure my past traumas were fully healed, and waited until I was in my mid-twenties so my brain was more or less fully matured. I have no regrets about it. I still have some (still purely physical sensation) dysphoria ("phantom male genitals" type of thing) at times, but have come to manage this very well. More on this here.

Formally assessed psychopath & participant in research by leading psychopathy experts (read on before jumping to conclusions). Check out this post and my #psychopathy tag (tagged on this post for easy accessibility) for info, particularly about high-EQ female psychopathy, & to find out everything you think you know about us is wrong 💕 (what you know about male psychopaths is usually right tho 💀)

Note: When it comes to politics, I strive to discuss exclusively that about which I am *uniquely knowledgeable* - by which I mean, essentially, that I (believe I) have something to contribute that is unlikely to be found on every other blog. I do not and will not make posts or reblog posts about topics I do not feel this way about. You are not entitled to know my views on every hot-button issue, and I have no intention of speaking on that which I know little about, or that I don't know enough about (through study or personal experiences) to contribute something you can't get a thousand other places.

Tag Guide (WIP):

#mine -> original posts, including ask responses

#ask -> ask responses only

#anon hate, #anon love -> should be self-explanatory. anon love does include some non-anon love for simplicity.

#catposting, #dogposting, #petposting -> images of cats, dogs, and both, respectively (not always my own)

#Wilder wives -> posts pertaining to me & my wife (last name Wilder)

#mvawg, #mvaw, #male violence -> male violence against women/girls

#ethical adoption -> my takes as an adoptee on the issues within the adoption industry & how adoption can be done ethically

#what we believe -> fairly new tag for posts trying to educate on what radfeminism is actually about/damage control for disinformation & misinformation about it

#trans violence -> violence committed by trans-identifying people, including threats of and graphic violent fantasies (primarily misogynistic ones)

#trans misogyny, #trans lesbophobia, #woke misogyny, #woke homophobia, #woke lesbophobia, etc. -> what it says on the tin

#mine #pinned #hope for Women #ethical adoption #adoptee #adopted #ntsd #neurological type sex dysphoria #sex dysphoria #witchcraft #brujeria #tra receipts #trans violence #male violence #mvawg #trans misogyny #pinned post #about me #what we believe

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vulpisnocturna · 9 months

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id like to req a happy and horny itachi !!! HATE SEEING HIM SAD

Anon, I present you… Horny Itachi with this. He happy too. But mainly horny lol

NSFW -Minors do not interact

Warnings: Itachi is y/n’s University Professor (few years age gap, both 22+), afab reader, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, praise kink, dirty talk, pleasure dom Itachi

Word count: 1k

If it was so wrong, why did it feel so good? It wasn’t as though you’d been explicitly told that fucking your University Professor was wrong, but it was quite a given. He’d helped you with your thesis at the end of your three year English Literature course, and you both hadn’t been able to deny the tension between you two. In every damn meeting, his dark eyes had been roving down your body, intense and utterly beautiful. You, on the other hand, had had a crush on him since the first moment you’d first seen him. He was only a few years older than you, but he was still your Professor. He still taught you as you studied for your Master’s degree, but he taught you other things, too. Like how to cum more times than you’d imagined would be possible. You were in a relationship now, a secret until you graduated, and every chance to see each other quickly turned into him having his head between your legs. The man seemed to love doing it, and he seemed to enjoy how fiercely you had to fight to keep quiet.

You moaned, your hand on your mouth muffling the desperate sounds you were making as his tongue licked your clit and his damned long fingers curled inside you.

‘Doing so well for me’ he murmured, massaging your thighs and ass and blowing cold air on your clit.

‘I-tachi’ you stuttered through your palm, legs quivering.

‘Shhh. You are so loud. Do you want everyone in the building to know I’m fucking you on my desk?’ he asked, and you couldn’t see him from that position, but you just knew he had a smirk on his lips at that comment. And God did it do just what he’d hoped. Your walls tightened around his fingers, and he hummed, sucking on your clit and making your heels push on his back as you came. You bit down on your palm, rocking your hips against his face, riding it.

‘Mhh. Don’t tell me the idea made you come undone. My girl is quite filthy today’ he said, the sound of a zipper catching your ear as you panted. You lifted yourself on your elbows, looking at him, eyes glazed over with pleasure.

‘On my lap. You’d better take it quietly’ he warned, pulling you on his lap. You straddled him, hovering above him, clinging to his shoulders as he pushed his cock against you. You shifted slightly, a shuddering whimper tearing out of you as you felt him slide deeper and deeper, until he was buried to the hilt and you felt him everywhere. He let out a soft groan, pulling on your hair and licking your neck as he gave a jerk of his hips.

‘Perfect. So tight. Always so fucking good for me’ he breathed in your ear, forcibly bouncing you up and down just as you started grinding on him, mewling as quietly as you could at the pounding against your cervix, the melting rubbing against your g-spot and the maddening friction of his pelvis against your clit.

‘Hush, darling. You’re being such a brat. Can you not even follow simple instructions? I told you to take it quietly, and yet, here you are, moaning like my little slut’ he crooned in your ear, almost sounding pleased that he could get you so worked up. And you were. You were trying hard to stay quiet, but every thrust was just too good.

‘Please- Itachi… is so much…’ you moaned, your head against his, needy whimpers escaping you. He turned his head, kissing you harshly, passionately, drowning your sounds with his mouth. You were nearing another orgasm, struggling to breathe or think as he pounded inside you, the slight curvature of his cock hitting your g-spot with every thrust.

‘That’s my good girl. Squirming on my lap. You look so pretty, thoroughly dazed. Can you even think about anything other than my cock?’ he taunted, though you could see through the mind-numbing pleasure that he was also drunk on you. His eyes were bright and molten with lust, his swollen lips parted and his skin flushed of a pale pink. His sounds were mostly sighs of pleasure, barely audible groans and quiet moans, but they were so hot to your ears. So hot that when you clamped around him and he moaned against your ear you could not help but cum around his cock, trembling and clinging onto him for dear life.

‘Fuck… this- this is what I want- day and night. This feeling’ he said, getting rougher as he started moving you as he pleased, slamming into you and covering your mouth as you could not help but moan, your clit throbbing painfully, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

‘Going to leave you to think of me for the rest of your day’ he breathed, yanking down on your shirt collar and sucking harshly on the curve between your neck and your shoulder.

You moaned incoherently, feeling the sloppy, deep thrusts that signalled he was close. So you ravaged his throat as he’d done with you, hoping he’d be thinking about how he’d fucked you in his office, on his lap, as he went about grading papers and planning lectures.

‘Cheeky’ he hissed, gripping the plump flesh of your ass as he stopped moving, warmth gushing inside you as he came with a soft moan.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, him kissing your face and hair, you clinging to his body as you both adjusted your breathing.

‘I’ll see you tonight’ he said, kissing your lips gently, stroking your hair and adjusting it. You nodded, smiling sheepishly as you lifted yourself off of him and gathered your clothes, trying to look as put together as possible after he had taken you whole.

‘See you tonight’ you said with a shy smile.

#naruto #itachi #uchiha itachi #itachi uchiha #itachi uchiha smut #itachi imagines #itachi x reader #itachi x y/n #itachi x you #itachi smut

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 2 months

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Holding on For Me ~Rita Calhoun xFem Younger!Partner!GradStudent!Reader (feat. Rafael Barba)

Summary— Rita gets hurt badly and ends in the hospital. Her two closest people, you and Rafael, come running. But you’ve never met each other, and now your partner’s and his best friend’s life hangs in the balance…

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: angst, then fluff, heavily implied physical assault, hospitals, near death experiences, bruising, implied scarring, crying, hyperventilating, implied anxiety attacks, happy fully ending, etc.

Enjoy (;

You rubbed your temples with a sigh as you stared at her dull computer screen and flipped the pages of your extensive notes. You was violently pulled out of your doctoral thesis research by the sound of your cell phone ringing. Eager for a distraction, you swiftly picked up the phone.

“Hi this is is Y/N!”

“Hello Ma’am. I am calling from Mercy Hospital, I have you listed as an emergency contact for one Rita Calhoun?”

Your heart dropped. Rita? What had happened? Was she okay??

“What happened? Is she okay??”

“She was brought in about 30 minutes ago… She’s currently in surgery, pretty banged up. I am just making my rounds and contacting her emergency numbers in case.”

“Ok thank you so much, I’ll be there in 15 minutes” you hastily replied.

As soon as the call had ended, you jumped up from your chair, your heart racing and your mind spiraling. You scurried around her apartment, collecting things that you or Rita might possibly need at the hospital, throwing all the miscellaneous items into a bag before storming out of the apartment. You were swift to hail a cab once out on the city streets, eagerly giving the address of the hospital. Was Rita going to be okay? What if they lose her before you got to the hospital?

The words hospital and surgery made your stomache sink. Your hands felt like they were going numb, and your mind seemed to only be able to come up with the worst possible scenarios on what could have happened to Rita. You bit at her lip anxiously, and you closed her eyes for the rest of the cab drive, too overwhelmed to bear the stimulus of sight at the moment. Did this have to do with Rita’s job? Maybe an ex-client or someone who’d threatened her? What was the last thing she said to Rita…??

As soon as the cab stopped outside of the hospital, you paid the driver and rushed inside the bustling ER doorway. You immediately found a nurse and asked about Rita, who led you to the waiting room for trauma surgery, a separate, more secluded area of the hospital. The nurse had not been able to tell you much, besides the fact that Rita was still in surgery. So you anxiously paced the little waiting room, biting your fingernails and feeling like you wanted to cry. ‘Pretty banged up’, how badly was her partner hurt? Why were you the only one here??

Memories of you and Rita flooded your mind. You remembered when you two first met, it was only a couple years ago, but you had grown so close since. You thought of all the late nights that you two had spent together, laughing and drinking until both of you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore. You remembered how much Rita worked, just how passionate she was about her job. And now in a matter of 15 minutes that could all be ripped away from you? Rita taken from so swiftly, so cruelly?

You approached the nearest nurses station and asked about your partner again. As you were trying to pry any and all information out of this poor young nurse, a man stormed into the waiting area. You had the slightest sense that she knew him from somewhere, but as he was pacing the room furiously, muttering certain choice words in Spanish, you couldn’t quite place it. Then the man came up to the desk where you were standing and spoke. What if these were Rita’s last waking moments…? How could you live with yourself if Rita didn’t make it…?

“Hi. Do you have any information about Rita Calhoun and how she’s doing?” The man asked rushedly.

Now that he was right next to you and after revealing he knew Rita, it clicked for you. This was Rafael, Rita’s best friend from her college years. The two had never formally met, you had seen a picture or two of him in Rita’s apartment (from the many nights that you’d had dinner and stayed over) and you had only heard about Rafael when Rita elected to talk about him. You knew that while they were good friends, there were wounds in their personal pasts, so you never pushed to meet him. Had Rafael and Rita ended on good terms in the last time they talked? Did he know if this was work related…??

“You’re Rafael…” you managed to breathe out.

You were surprised that you had even been able to get out one word with the lump in your throat. Rafael turned from the counter to face you, giving you a quizzical and slightly defensive look. How could this have happened? It had been going all so well, and now with a simple call, life has turned upside down…

“Yes. And you are?”

“Y/N. Rita’s partner.”

Rafael’s brows raised and his eyes glistened with intrigue. He seemed to decide that you were alright, because he sent you a confirming nod, before going back to grilling the nurse for more information. Had Rita been threatened…? Attacked? Taken??

Trying desperately not to cry in front of him or the hospital staff, your knees suddenly began to feel weak. Before you could catch herself, your legs buckled and you collapsed on the cold, hard, hospital floor. Rafael was quick to turn back towards you, giving you his hands to help stabilize your overstimulated state. Your weak form managed to make it to one of the waiting room seats, where Rafael promptly sat next to you. It was then that you noticed how much your entire body was shaking. Rita couldn’t die… No, she couldn't die… It just… She couldn't it…

“I… I didn’t know Rita had a partner.” He stammered aloud, breaking the silence of the two of you sitting in the hospital, both equally nervous wrecks.

You shrugged in response, not having the wherewithal to respond to that at the moment. Silent tears finally began to stream down your face, as you started to let it all out. You curled forward, holding your head in your hands as you sobbed for what felt like hours. How would you ever be happy again? You would never move on. You couldn’t. Rita was your everything… You couldn’t face losing her…

“I don’t know what I’ll… d-do if… If Rita…” you stuttered, not able to finish your statement, as your voice returned to choked sobs.

You felt a soft and gentle touch on your back, making you uncurl and meet Rafael’s own reddened gaze.

“Rita is one of the strongest, hard ass people I know. Ever since school… I have never seen a fighter quite like her. If anyone will make it, it’s her.”

“Thanks” you croaked out.

Awkward silence took the room, the only sound being the hustling and bustling of the hospital. Rafael eventually removed his hand from your back, as it began to feel like he was overstepping. But the second you lost that touch, you seemed to only feel worse.

“Do you know w-what h-happened…? Or w-why…?” You stammered out in a whisper.

Rafael leaned forward, his forearms coming to his knees with a heavy sigh.

“I know that she’s been facing scrutiny and backlash for the last case she took. but besides that I don’t know…” he breathed out.

You pulled your knees up onto your chair, wrapping your hands around your body for some semblance of control and comfort, as you let out a shaky sigh.

“S-so it is work related…?”

“I don’t know, Y/N, I’m sorry… Truthfully, I hadn’t talked to her since she took that case, I was the lead prosecutor and we… we had a bit of a fallout over it…” Rafael gritted out.

His defensiveness seemed to have vanished, all that being left being the vulnerable, close friend of Rita’s. His knuckles were white from how hard he was squeezing his hands.

“Christ the last thing I probably did was yell at her to get out of my office…” he confessed, looking down to the ground with shame and guilt.

“I… I can’t even r-remember what the last thing I said to her was…” you choked out through violent sobs.

Rafael looked up at your wailing and his hand came out, caressing your shoulder lightly. He squeezed your trembling form reassuringly.

“I’m sure you told her how much you loved her…” he softly comforted you.

“I don’t know… I d-don’t know…” you changed in a whisper, starting to rock back and forth anxiously in the seat.

“Hey. Take some deep breaths… She’s going to be okay.”

Your glossy eyes met his reddened ones and you two just connected. All because of Rita. You were so grateful that she had found a friend like Rafael. And Rafael was grateful that she had someone like you to support her as a partner. Suddenly you were both drawn back to the crushing reality by a nurse coming up to you with a file in hand.

Rafael immediately stood and walked right up to her, demanding answers. You couldn’t get yourself to stand, so you merely looked up at the two standing adults with pleading eyes.

“Are you family?”

You both nodded vigorously.

“How is she? What happened?? Can we see her…??” Rafael demanded.

“EMT’s responded to a Good Samaritan call who found her in an alley… The ambulance brought her here to Mercy and she’s been in surgery ever since. It was a little touch and go, she has a concussion, multiple lacerations, a four broken ribs, scattered bruising, and a shattered left forearm…”

Your mouth went dry at the nurses words and you couldn’t think as tears began to stream down your face once more. Your lip trembled as you bit it, attempting to stifle your sobs.

“Can we see here??” Rafael immediately asked.

“Yes you may see her, she’s finally out, and she’s somewhat awake. I’ll take you to her, But take it slow, she has a long road to recovery…” the nurse said.

Rafael let out a sigh of relief and he quickly turned to you. Extending his arm, he helped you up and down the hall towards Rita’s private room. The nurse let you in, closing the door behind the two of you.

Rita looked peaceful for a moment, lying in the bed, but as she began to wake up, pain flooded across her face. Practically all of her exposed skin was bruised and battered, the biggest being her black eye. Her eye widened as much as she could widen them at the sight of you and Rafael.

“Holy fuck…” Rita winced in pain as we tried to sit up.

You immediately rushed next to her, sitting at the edge of the bed. The older brunette leaned back again, giving up the idea of sitting up properly for her moment, instead meekly attempting to reach out to you with her right hand, and you eagerly met her more than half-way, taking her hand and kissing it over and over again as tears of joy steamed down your cheeks.

“Rita Rita… God I’m so glad you’re okay… How are you feeling…?” you whispered, continuing your love and tender assault on her hand.

“Hi baby… I’m… in a whole lot of fucking pain, but I’ll live…” she breathed out in confession.

Rita smiled lightly back. But even that seemed to hurt her, as she winced lightly again. Rafael was standing at the end of the bed with his hands in his pockets as he watched the two of you. His eyes softeners watching your dynamic, he scolded himself for being so goddamn stubborn. Because if he hadn’t been, Rita might have introduced him to you…

“Oh Baby don’t move, stay still. Doctors orders you need to rest. Don’t want you getting more hurt…” you pleaded caringly and with much love.

“She’s a stubborn hardass. Doctor’s orders won’t stop her…” Rafael teasingly cooed, meeting Rita’s gaze.

Rita rolled her eyes at her closest friend.

“Shut up, you idiot… Now come over here and hug me.” Rita shot back with the same teasing tone.

Rafael chuckled, looked down to the ground as he made his way around to the opposing side of the bed, releasing his hands from his pockets, the man leaned over and gave his friend a proper embrace.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… I’m so glad you’re alive” Rafael whispered to Rita, before retracting slightly, but staying close and gazing at her caringly.

Rita wanted to cup his cheek and pull him close, tell Rafi that it was all good, but her drugs were at a heavy dosage and soon they began to pull her back into unconsciousness.

“It’s… okay Rafaellll…—” she mumbled before dozing off.

Your gaze then met Rafael’s, coming to an understanding that neither of you would be leaving anytime soon.

~~~

Rita Calhoun Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

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catcas22 · 1 year

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Fortissax is Fia Theory

Alright people, grab your red yarn and thumbtacks. I need to share this with someone, so you all get to read my deranged ramblings.

Real talk, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this.

Thesis:

Proposition 1) Fortissax was consort to Godwyn and the mother of the Golden Lineage.

Proposition 2) Fia is the human form of Fortissax.

Some of this theory will be (I believe) airtight, some of it will be based on circumstantial evidence, and some will be reasonably plausible headcanon that I feel would enhance the lore. Take it or leave it as you like.

The part that I maintain is airtight.

In-game, Fortissax’s gender is never confirmed. Any time pronouns are used to refer to Fortissax, the game uses it/its pronouns.

This could be deliberate obfuscation on the part of the game devs. Fortissax’s gender could have been part of a big reveal that ended up being cut from the final product.

It’s also possible that the ancient dragons are capable of changing their sex (ASOIAF dragons seem to work this way), or they simply don’t attach the same significance to sex/gender that humans do.

The Golden Lineage intermarried with dragons at some point in history.

Godrick’s dialogue: “Mighty Dragon, thou'rt a trueborn heir. Lend me thy strength, o kindred. Deliver me unto greater heights.” [Emphasis mine]

Godwyn was the exalted noble who Fia was attempting to resurrect when she first saw the guidance of Grace.

Fia’s dialogue: “After I received the warmth and lifely vigour from a number of champions, I lay with the remains of an exalted noble, to grant him another chance at life.”

Fia after killing D: “Finally, it is returned to its rightful place. The stolen hallowbrand of the exalted noble. And now, I must bid you goodbye as well. Though I ask you deliver this message to the Roundtable Hold. I am Fia, Deathbed Companion. Hark, Roundtable. Disturb not the Death of Godwyn, the exalted.” [Emphasis mine]

The word choice here seems too intentional to be coincidence. Fia first refers to an “exalted noble.” Later, she refers to Godwyn’s half of the curse mark as “the stolen hallowbrand of the exalted noble,” then goes on to refer to “Godwyn the Exalted” within a few sentences. Godwyn is the Exalted Noble, the Exalted Noble is Godwyn.

Slightly less airtight, but still strongly implied.

Fortissax and Godwyn were an item. This is already pretty widely accepted fanon, but I’ll lay out the evidence anyway.

Basically any time Fortissax is mentioned, it is in the context of their close bond with Godwyn. On it’s own, this wouldn’t mean much -- strong platonic bonds are a thing.

But we also established that Godwyn’s descendants are also descended from dragons. Out of the four named ancient dragons (the game never gives any indication that feral dragons can take human form), Fortissax is the most likely candidate.

Gransax is dead by the time the war against the dragons is over.

Placidusax is in (self-imposed?) exile in Farum Azula.

Lansseax is a possibility, but we know from the description of Vyke’s dragon bolt that “Of all the knights, Vyke the Dragonspear was the one Lansseax loved the most.” This does not entirely rule out the possibility of a political marriage between Lansseax and Godwyn, but it’s worth noting.

Although it’s not airtight, Fortissax being Godwyn’s consort makes the most sense. When you take their close bond and Godrick’s dragon heritage together, the game does seem to be implying a union between the two.

Lichdragon Fortissax is a shade.

We have plenty of in-game precedence for echoes of a person remaining behind to fight while the individual in question goes on to do other things. See Royal Knight Loretta in Caria Manor, Festering Fingerprint Vyke in the Church of Inhibition, and Godfrey’s Golden Shade in Leyndell.

We never see Fortissax manifest in the physical world, only ever showing up in the mindscape (Fia’s mindscape? Godwyn’s? Fortissax’s?) where we fight him.

Think about the sequence of events here. Fia is sleeping beside Godwyn. We touch her, which takes us directly to the Lichdragon’s boss arena. We kill Fortissax, and exit the dream to find that Fia has brought forth the Mending Rune of the Death Prince.

The slightly shaky but still supported stuff.

Fia is the human form of Fortissax -- this is the big one.

We encounter Lichdragon Fortissax in what is seems to be either Fia’s mindscape or a shared dream between Godwyn and Fia.

If we accept the premise that Fortissax is Godwyn’s consort, it is worth noting that Fia also seems to have prior history with Godwyn.

Fia clearly considers herself Godwyn’s consort. Consider the lines: “For I am the companion of Godwyn, Prince of Death. I wished to be a mother to Those Who Live in Death.” And, “I will soon lay with Godwyn. To conceive my child, the rune.”

Fia also refers to herself as the mother of those who live in death. This would align with her being the consort of Godwyn, the progenitor of those who live in death.

Pretty clear-cut. Of course it’s possible that Fia is delusional and pursuing the fantasy equivalent of a para-social relationship, but I tend to doubt that due to this line, spoken if you try to kill Fia: “Godwyn... Is that you, dear?”

I don’t care how delusional you are, you don’t cry for your celebrity crush in your dying moments. She knew him before the Night of the Black Knives.

Fia’s “I was awakened by the guidance of grace, and chased from my birthplace” line actually fits with what little we know of Fortissax.

From the descriptions of the Aspects of the Crucible incantations, we know that the Crucible was the primordial form of the Erdtree. This supports the theory that the Erdtree is simply the latest iteration of the World Tree, which goes through different phases with each new age.

Dragonlord Placidusax was the god of the age preceding Marika. “The Dragonlord whose seat lies at the heart of the storm beyond time is said to have been Elden Lord in the age before the Erdtree.”

It seems logical that the ancient dragons would have their capitol/home base around their version of the world tree, just as the demigods do in the current age. Fortissax likely would have been born in the area that would later become the city of Leyndell.

Nothing in Fia’s lore contradicts Fortissax’s lore. Fortissax was probably Godwyn’s consort. Fia is Godwyn’s consort. We fight Fortissax in Fia’s mindscape. Definitely not an airtight case, but if you put it all together I think it logically follows.

The “moving into headcanon territory” stuff.

Fia was in Stormveil at some point.

The sorcery Rancorcall is found in the basement of Stormveil. This sorcery is notably used by Sir Lionel, Fia’s adoptive father.

If all of the above is true, this makes a ton of sense. After being driven from Leyndell, Fia fled to the castle of her son/grandson/distant descendant Godrick.

This also explains the Godwyn face in the basement. What little remained of Godwyn sensed that his wife was in Stormveil and attempted to quite literally grow closer to her.

Fia probably has Godwyn’s Great Rune.

Certain people were allowed to possess Great Runes prior to the Shattering. Rennala received the Rune of the Unborn from Radagon before he returned to Marika. Morgott used his Rune to authenticate his identity as a descendent of Godfrey (see Morgott’s Great Rune description), implying that he had it with him throughout his exile in the Shunning Grounds. It is plausible that Godwyn was also permitted to carry a Great Rune prior to the Night of the Black Knives.

Based on the image we see of the NBK during the opening cinematic, it does not appear that Godwyn put up much of a fight. We don’t see a weapon, dead Black Knife Assassins, or signs of a struggle. The staging looks more like an execution than a battle. Most likely, Godwyn was dragged out of bed and repeatedly shanked in the back before he had time to react.

We know that Tiche died covering the group’s retreat, confirming that the Black Knives did not make a clean getaway. Someone must have raised the alarm. It is highly unlikely that they hung around long enough to loot Godwyn’s Great Rune (if he had one).

Putting all of that together, if Fia/Fortissax was Godwyn’s consort, she was probably present during the assassination. She probably held him as he bled out, allowing his Great Rune to pass into her possession. Could Godwyn’s Great Rune plus the Curse Mark create the Mending Rune of the Death Prince?

The shade Fia left behind takes the form of Lichdragon Fortissax because Fortissax could have saved Godwyn from the assassins.

While Fortissax was by all accounts quite formidable, Fia appears to be much less martially inclined. We never see her physically fight in-game. She uses Death Blight to kill D and uses a death sorcery (I think it’s Rancorcall?) as a last-ditch defense if you attack her after killing her champions, but she would not have had access to either of these prior to the NBK.

If she witnessed Godwyn’s murder, she would certainly be tormented by the knowledge that she could have saved him had she been in her draconic form. I propose that this is the origin of Lichdragon Fortissax -- it is the manifestation of Fia’s guilt for her inability to save Godwyn from death, now fighting to save him from a fate worse than death.

Putting it all together...

At some point following the war against the dragons, Fortissax wishes to settle down and start a family with Godwyn. To that end, the dragon takes the form of a human woman and takes the name Fia.

On the Night of the Black Knives, Fia witnesses Godwyn’s murder. She is with him in his final moments, allowing her to see that he isn’t quite as dead as he should be. Despite her objections, the powers-that-be of Leyndell insist that he is definitely 100% dead and lay him in state in preparation for an Erdtree burial.

Unwilling to accept Godwyn’s death and desperate to save him, Fia starts looking into death sorcery (probably under the priests of the Deathbirds -- see Death Ritual Spear description). She discovers a method that might allow her to resurrect him -- the rites of the Deathbed Companions.

Fia does her hug/life-drain thing with a number of champions, most likely members of the Dragon Cult. She then attempts to lie with Godwyn in order to complete the ritual. In an incredible display of poor timing, Marika chooses that precise moment to send out the call to the Tarnished.

Fia sees the guidance of Grace, she is caught with Godwyn’s body, and she is subsequently run out of Leyndell. Godwyn is buried at the foot of the Erdtree. Consciously or unconsciously, Fia leaves behind the Lichdragon shade in a last-ditch attempt to save Godwyn. For a time, she wanders the Lands Between alone, likely not doing very well in terms of sanity.

Eventually she encounters Sir Lionel who, being a decent guy, appoints himself her protector and offers to escort her to wherever she’s going. With his aid, she makes her way to Stormveil, where she convalesces for a time.

She eventually moves on to the Roundtable Hold, likely seeking access to more champions. Fia waits there, gathering life-energy and biding her time, until D arrives with his stolen half of the Curse Mark, at which point she enlists the aid of a helpful Tarnished to set her plan into motion.

So that's the Fia/Fortissax theory. What do you guys think?

Edit 1: I have been informed that Fia's defensive spell is actually Fia's Mist, not Rancorcall. My bad.

Edit 2: Showed this to my brother, and he had an interesting addition. What if Lichdragon Fortissax isn't just a shade, it's all the parts of Fia's psyche that make up Fortissax? Under this theory, she completely severs herself from her old life and gives up the ability to ever become a dragon again in an attempt to save Godwyn. Don't really have any evidence for it, but it's a cool interpretation.

Edit 3: Just a fun little coincidence. On one of the sword monuments, Forti is referred to by the title "Dread Fortissax." During the early stages of her assimilation into the Greek Pantheon, the queen of the underworld was often given the title "Dread Persephone." Probably doesn't mean anything, but I think it's neat.

#elden ring #elden ring theory #lichdragon fortissax #fia the deathbed companion #godwyn the golden

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da-proti-toku-grem · 3 months

Note

9 and 42 for jance <3 ty!!!

Hi! Thank you so much for the sending these :D Here you go <3

Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss

9. …in public

It was sunny outside, so Nace and Jan had decided to take Ollie for a walk to the park.

As they walked down the street, hand in hand, Jan was telling Nace about something he had read about dimensions and topology. Honestly, Nace didn't understand any of what he was hearing, but he loved listening to Jan talking so enthusiastically about mathematics. There was something so fascinating about the way his eyes sparkled when he discovered something new or when he managed to solve a really difficult problem, for example, that made Nace's heart fill even more with love for him – if that was even possible.

Once they arrived at the park, Nace bent down to try to remove the leash from a very energetic and bouncy Ollie. The dog seemed to have other plans, however, as he started running in circles around them, wrapping them both up with it.

"Ollie stop!" Nace shouted while Jan just laughed hysterically. When Nace looked away from the dog and realized how close they were, their noses almost brushing, a little blush appeared on his face.

"Hi," Jan said. He didn't leave time for Nace to answer though, he simply leaned his head back a little and closed the short distance between them with a sweet kiss.

Nice giggled at the action. "What was that for?”

"There has to be a reason for me to kiss my boyfriend?" Jan smiled back.

"No, of course not! It's just... there are a lot of people here." Nace was more than okay with showing his boyfriend to the world, but seeing so many people – especially old couples – around still made him feel a bit uneasy sometimes.

Jan grabbed his chin with his fingers and, looking into the bassist's eyes, said, "If they don't like it, they can just not look." Nace smiled softly, closing the distance again.

He really couldn't love Jan more.

42. … out of pride

Between the Eurovision frenzy and the many concerts around Europe that it had brought with it, the guitarist had hardly had time to work on his thesis. Don't get him wrong, he was very proud and happy with everything they were achieving, but he had already had to postpone it several times and, at this point, he felt that if he didn't finish it already he was going to go crazy.

They finally had a bit of a longer break until the arrival of their next tour, so he had decided it would be the perfect time to try to finish it. So, yes, the last few weeks have been pretty stressful for Jan.

Thank heavens he has Nace by his side. The two have been living together for some time now, and the older always felt like an anchor for Jan.

Whatever he needed, whether it was food, a drink, a hug, some cuddles, a massage for his aching back after being glued to the computer all day, a shoulder to cry on, or just a comforting presence by his side while he worked, Nace was always there for him.

So, of course, Nace was next to him at the time he pressed the button to send it. It's done, he thought. He got up from his chair and turned towards his boyfriend, who was looking at him with a lovestruck expression.

Nace opened his arms and drew him into a tight embrace, his smile evident as he said, "I'm so so so proud of you, Janči."

Jan felt like crying. He did it, he really did. It was done. Well, not done done, he still had to wait to see his grade. But his part was done. And, on top of that, he made his boyfriend proud.

But then, there was the other part of his brain. The part that told him that all the effort, stress and anxiety was for nothing. That it was not enough. That he shouldn't have bothered. So... yeah. He was crying.

He didn’t say a word, but Nace could read him like an opened book.

"Oh, srček," Nace whispered, rubbing circles with his hand on Jan's back and making his way to his hair with the other, softly scratching his scalp.

After a while, when the tears had stopped flowing and the younger's breathing had calmed down a little, Nace slowly separated himself from Jan and took his face in his hands. Gently, he wiped away the remnants of tears with his thumbs.

"You did amazing honey. You've worked so hard and it doesn't matter that it took you longer than you anticipated. Sometimes things happen and we can't control it. It doesn't matter when you got it done, the only thing that matters is that you did it. So don't let that little mind of yours tell you that it's bad, let alone when those "things" were us going to Eurovision," he said, the last sentence eliciting a little chuckle out of Jan. "Look at how far you've come! You've achieved so many things and I want you to feel proud of yourself.”

Jan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now, but he hoped that the little smile on his face was enough to tell Nace how insanely grateful he was for those words.

"I love you so much and I'm so so proud of you, ljubi, and nothing will ever change that.” Finally, Nace leaned closer and closed the distance between them. It was easily the most tender kiss anyone had ever given Jan, making him want to melt into it.

He rested his forehead against Nace's and whispered, "Thank you for everything, Nacko. I love you.”

masterlist | ao3 | ao3

#i just realized as i finished this that maybe you meant the two of them together but oh well #i hope you like it either way anon <3 #disclaimer for the second one: idk how thesis work in slovenia (nor here tbf) so idk if it works like that but 🤫#joker out #jan peteh #nace jordan #jance #ask #mine #maca writes #kiss prompts

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logogreffe · 1 year

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Très vs Trop vs Super vs Vraiment in French

Let's set the scene : You're talking to your friend, she shows you her new art piece and you say "C'est très beau !" to say "It's so pretty !". And for a few seconds she looks a bit disappointed.

(This might sound a bit exaggerated but if a friend of mine, a native French speaker*, says "c'est très beau !" to me, I might assume that :

they're saying that ironically because it's such a strange way to say "it's so pretty !".

they think that I'm under the age of 8 and I'm bothering them - "c'est très beau, now go play with the other children")

(If your friend knows you're not French, she'll understand what you mean, don't worry)

So then, what should you say ?

First, let's take a look at "très"

1. Très // Very :

If you are writing a thesis/sending an email to French clients/talking to your boss etc…using "très" to say "very" is the way to go.

BUT we don't actually use it that much orally in the day to day life in exclamative sentences such as "It's very + adj ! "

Note 1 : Surprisingly if you want to say "It's not very + adj ! " you can still use "très".

Exemple n° 1 et 2 : "C'est pas très bon !" // "It's not very tasty !" "C'est pas très pratique ! " // "It's not very practical !"

In text messages or orally, whenever you want to say "It's very + adj !" I would suggest you forget about "très" and use the other expressions I'll mention in this post. Note 2 : You cannot use the word "très" with every adjective ! - La maison est très belle. La maison est très magnifique. - La soupe est très bonne. La soupe est très délicieuse. [This website lists adjectives you can use to avoid saying "très". The adjectives on the left can be used with "très", the ones on the right cannot.]

2. Trop // Too :

"Trop" can be translated as "too" or "too much"

Exemple n°3 : "Mon café est trop sucré". // "My coffee is too sweet"

BUT NOW. If we go back to our great example : Your friend shows you her art piece. A possible answer is :

"C'est trop beau !" (lit. translation :" it's too pretty").

"C'est + trop + adj ! " is a very common way to say "it's very + adj ! ". Note 1 : It's quite informal ! Be careful whom you use it with !, (I was scolded as a child for using it)

Note 2 : This only works with the adjectives mentionned below ! If you use any other adjectives like "hot" for example : "l'eau est trop chaude" will mean that the water is too hot. (I guess you could also think of "trop" in this context as "so") Note 3 : "Trop" can also be used in the following structure : "Subject + [être] + TROP + Adj" - Beau/belle : C'est trop beau ! // It's so pretty ! (C'est trooooop beau ! // It's soooo pretty ! ) Elles sont trop belles ! // They are so pretty ! - Cool : C'est trop cool ! // It's so cool ! Mon chat est trop cool ! // My cat is so cool ! - Chiant : (!!!bad word alert!!!) C'est trop chiant ! // It's so fucking annoying ! Mon frère est trop chiant. // My brother is such a pain in the ass. - Moche : C'est trop moche ! // It's so/very ugly ! Ce tableau est trop moche. // This painting is so/very ugly. - Bien : C'est trop bien ! // it's so great ! Ce film est trop bien ! // This movie is really great ! - Sympa : C'est trop sympa de ta part ! Merci ! // It's so nice of you! Thank you! Mes amies sont trop sympas ! // My friends are so nice !

Note 4 : Saying "c'est cool ", "c'est beau ", "c'est bien", "c'est sympa" sounds quite passive-aggressive in French. ("c'est chiant", on the other hand works perfectly on its own, don't worry) Note 5 : Those are the most common adjectives that you can use with "trop" . I cannot think of any other adjectives but there might be some more ! The use of "Trop" is really common but informal. What should you say if you don't want to say "trop" and don't want to use "très" either ? -> You can use "super" or "vraiment"

3. Super : You might have seen it translated as "Great". When used in the exclamative sentence "Super !" or before a noun , it does indeed mean "great". But if it is used before an adjective, it becomes synonymous with "really" or "very"!

Exemple n°4 : "Il fait super chaud dehors !" // It's really hot outside !

4. Vraiment : "Super" is a bit more formal than "trop" yet if you're talking to the big boss, "vraiment" would be better.

C'est trop beau ! < C'est super beau ! < C'est vraiment beau !

Note 1 : "Vraiment" literally means "truly". Yet, I feel like in some situations we use this one in French the way English speakers use "really".

Exemple n°5 : "C'est vraiment énervant, j'arrive pas à utiliser ce logiciel" // "It's really/truly annoying, I can't figure out how to use this computer program."

Note 2 : While "trop" and "super" are informal, you can use "vraiment" in both formal and informal settings.

Exemple n°6 : "T'es vraiment chiant !" // "You're really/truly a pain in the ass !" (You could also say "t'es trop chiant !" ou "t'es super chiant !")

5. A few more examples and 3 mores words to say "very"

Exemples n°7 et 8 : "Il fait super froid dehors aujourd'hui ! " // "It's really cold outside today !" "38 euros ? Putain, c'est super cher ! " // " 38 euros ? Fuck, that's really exprensive !" Some people also use "méga" "archi" or "giga" to say "very " , (those 3 are informal as well)

Exemples n°9 , 10 et 11

"Il fait méga chaud dehors ! " // "It's really really hot outside !" "J'ai archi faim !" // "I'm really really hungry" "J'ai giga soif !" // "I'm really really really thirsty" You can try this little test I made about this post here ! * from mainland France

#french #frenchblr #learning french #langblr #apprendre le français #language learning

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deathlygristly · 1 day

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I am reading the reblogs and tags on an older post that goes around the dash occasionally. It's about reading. I'm sure you've seen it - someone talks about Divergent books and 1984 and then someone reblogs it and calls 1984 rape apologism? Which is really weird?

The spousal person ordered a print of this Kate Beaton comic many years ago and he hung it up in the hallway and he told me to go look at it whenever I said my writing was bad:

http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=44

The first two panels do a fairly decent job of explaining 1984. Which is just....a really simple book. It's like wow look fascism sucks! And that's it, pretty much. Like yeah, obviously you could write papers and essays and a thesis and probably do a whole body of academic work on the particulars of it, but really it's just that Orwell thought fascism sucked. Which it does, so I don't see the problem?

Anyway I am pretty sure a lot of the people on that post come from a very different society than I do, even though the education system they say they hate is the American one. Which, hey, our education is locally funded and controlled so maybe it's just that my working class southern Appalachian rural county schools were a lot better than their schools? Or is it maybe what I've suspected before, that I graduated before No Child Left Behind?

I can't recall my English teachers ever being authoritarian to the extent so many other people claim their English teachers were. Not that I can recall that much about English or school at all, really, but I think I would remember if they marched around all "No, your essay is WRONG and only MY opinion is right!!!" all the time.

But then it's true that I don't remember it that well because I just wrote essays the night before they were due or sometimes in the classes before English if it was a class later in the day, and then I got a good grade and nice comments on it and then I got on with my life. I don't think I ever invested nearly as much emotional energy and idea of my self-worth into English class as the people on that post did. Which maybe that's why they remember it so well? Certainly it's probably a large part of why they still have Big Emotions about it.

Anyway my point is that sometimes I read how people write about their own reading and I'm like oh. This is why I shouldn't care what people say about my work that much. I clearly did not write it for these people who experience the world and fiction and the written word in a way that I cannot imagine at all and that I would have never known existed as a possibility if I hadn't read their own words about it.

Like the version of the post that gets the most reblogs ends with an essay about how in the last few decades people have come to expect characters to be "relatable" and to be like them and to think and experience things the way they do? And there's all this self-identity and irrational and false beliefs about your own moral purity involved?

If you come to my work with that sort of thing in your heart you will bounce off of it, and I have finally come to understand that the bouncing off is for the best for both of us.

If you're new here and you haven't read my stuff yet, here's the pinned post with the directory on my Simblr: Story Index.

Anyway, gotta go to bed now. It's just....I don't think I ever realized just how differently people experience fiction and books and the written word from how I experience it before. Like in the tags someone said they expected 1984 to be more Hunger Games-esque? How is that person perceiving reality? I want to live inside their brain for a bit to learn.

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6-hours · 24 days

Text

Pretty much a diary entry

I just binged Nagata Kabi's stuff since I found it in the library and it felt like a thing I needed in the moment...

The cycle of feeling bad, then feeling good, then feeling bad, etc etc just reminds me that personal suffering doesn't have a narrative arc. You suffer, you overcome, and honestly the "overcome" part might not even be permanent. In the pit of suffering you can't tell if it'll ever get better and that makes it so much worse... Like what if this time, being sad is permanent.

This isn't the first time I got sad, and if my past experience is anything to judge by, I'll probably get over this sadness too. Then forget about it and go be sad about something or other again!!! It's a cycle!!!! It never stops!!!!

Anhedonia really sucks. But this time, it made me think, "If I'm going to do stuff and not enjoy it, I might as well do something that's good for me even if I don't enjoy doing it." It was that thought that pushed me to drop some covid weight, and do physical activity (which I'd never done purposefully in my entire life until right now!!!). (Like if I'm going to be sad at least I can try to be physically healthy I guess)

And I have a lot of time that I have trouble filling, so I take my time to do stuff that I'd always thought was annoying or a waste of time. Sometimes I walk 20 mins to the grocery store to get a single jug of milk. I take my time to actually clean the bathroom or kitchen. I don't resent maintenance chores as much as I used to. It's something that should be done, and I have time to do it, and the time isn't coming out of something I'd rather be doing. I haven't overcome that hurdle when it comes to cooking though... Thankfully my spouse is happy to handle food.

I'm working on a personal project that's supposed to be "as big as it needs to be, take as long as it will end up taking". I've always had a hard time with something like that because I guess external validation is very tied to my enjoyment of drawing. If I don't get some kind of feedback the enjoyment has to derive purely from my own belief in the project... This is something that basically drove me to utter sadness in thesis year college because I had shut down socially. When I wasn't talking to people, every missed point of contact played out in my head as a scenario where other people directly rejected me. (So and so didn't talk to me when I walked by them in the hall! They must have so little interest in me they don't even want to talk to me! Completely forget the fact that I said absolutely nothing to them!!!)

Anyway! I really took some time to dissect what parts about this project is

Something I wish I could be capable of doing

Something I kept thinking about doing

What are the hard parts about it that I thought I wasn't good enough for

What kind of work I need to put in to make the hard parts possible

I've managed to dismantle some illusions I have about "good artists" and how "good work" actually comes about. I also put aside the thoughts of "this isn't good enough for the kind of scope you want". (The prof in college that said "Do your research! People can tell when you haven't done your research!" really paralyzed me. I had no idea how much research is "enough", especially when it came to something I didn't obsess over, and if it's not "enough" I'll be scrutinized to the ends of the earth. Why put myself through that scrutiny? Why bother doing anything, ever? You can't be criticized for doing something badly if you never do it at all. Take that,!!!!)

The point of doing this project is, I think, to prove to myself that I did it. And at the end of it maybe do another one. Then at the end of all these projects, I can say to myself, look at the body of work you produced! It might not be good, it might not be liked by other people, heck maybe no one else other than you ever saw or knew it existed. But! I put all the thoughts in my head into a physical form. It gets to exist more than it used to.

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deadboyfriendd · 2 years

Text

I have this silly little time traveler!reader AU in my brain and I think that Eddie could not handle it. For reference, TT!Reader is from our time and got shot back to the 80s unexpectedly. This is also assuming that the whole time paradox thing and serious implications of time travel don’t apply here.

Eddie tries so so hard to teach her how to drive stick. He’s also mean about it and you and Eddie end up wanting to strangle each other after you stall his van for a third time.

I’m sorry but I was born in the era where VHS tapes were being phased out and I had more DVDs than VHS’s. I can imagine Eddie handing you one and telling you to rewind it and getting absolutely flabbergasted when you look at it confusedly.

He is equally as confused when he asks you about your Walkman and you just hold up your lil iPhone with your AirPods in. He thinks you came straight out of an episode of The Jetsons and cannot fathom how Bluetooth works. You then have to explain to him that you can also use the internet and it sparks a whole conversation about the societal impact of social media and you basically have to do an in-depth thesis about modern life to him. (I’m also aware that there’s no cell towers yet so nothing would probably work but he’d be like a baby with an iPad. Just so intrigued that it can scan your face and that you can TOUCH GLASS AND MANIPULATE IT LIKE WITCHCRAFT)

Sorry but I don’t think anyone from Gen Z would be all that phased by anything happening in the upside down. We’ve lived through several major historical events in our lifetime and an alternate dimension isn’t even that scary.

What would be scary, however, is his reaction when you explain the state of the world today and “HOW can people just leave their kids unattended to run amuck around town with no means of communication?”

Arguing with Eddie about metal would be absolutely hilarious though. Like just getting on his nerves like, “You think Dio is hard? Wait a couple years. You get Cannibal Corpse.” And he goes absolutely nuts.

In the same turn, you would also get under his skin by arguing which album is better. “The Master of Puppets album is the best album yet” he would say, to which you reply, “I don’t know… Garage Inc. was a pretty solid one” and he would stomp and do his shimmy and throw his tantrum because “IT DOESN'T COUNT IF IT'S NOT OUT YET.”

Arguing with Eddie about what music to play and he calls your music stupid and just tearing him apart by calling Metallica “divorced dad rock”.

Constantly having to remind him that you’re not from that far into the future and his belongings are not ancient relics and you’re not entirely clueless about life in the 80s. He’s genuinely surprised you understand his music and pop culture references.

Dropping cryptic little tidbits just to freak him out, like watching something devastating on the news channel and going, “hm. Bradbury was right.” And going about your day while him and Wayne look at each other in the most terrified way possible.

Being CONSTANTLY bombarded with questions from the entire group. You feel like a human history book most of the time. Eddie almost has to drag Dustin away from you. “Yes DnD is still a thing. They have a classroom curriculum for it now.” “Yes I’ve heard of LOTR. There’s movies now.” “All of the drugs Ozzy did are catching up to him now.” “If you think an Atari is cool just wait until you see an oculus”

No one understand a singular vine or tiktok reference ever. “What do you mean they were roommates?” “Wait you took HOW MUCH Adderall?”

I 100% have a lot more to this and maladaptive daydream to this scenario constantly. If this does well I’ll probably write more about it.

#eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #flea writes

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jamieedlund · 1 year

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Loved the answer and art you left! Pretty sweet. Do you have any animal headcanons? Like animals they like or dislike? Looking forward to that Aaravos thesis btw!

⚠WARNING!⚠

Another long answer with comics so strap in, sit down, get some popcorn and enjoy.

pst not related to the question but they can talk about anything and this genuinely brings a smile to my face how Aaravos can just easily carry Callum like that ok --

First of all, thank you - I feel blessed since I actually really enjoy working on asks like this. It’s a good excuse for me to draw them together outside of my thesis. But also this ask has been the only thing I've worked on for the past 4 days... So i really hope you enjoy it because I'm a long long way from finishing my thesis---

When it comes to their relationship, “animal headcanons” probably wouldn’t effect much of the dynamic so I haven’t thought about it much until now for this specific question asdfghjklkl — anything that happens during this ask just kinda exists in my head as I go so fair warning: I am not responsible for any of my brainrot nor is any of this actually canon as far as I know of🤣😂🙏

—And because I’m me this ask gets 13982398290 ugly doodles attached to it

Author's extra note: For the sake of everyone involve, Callum will speak in black letters and white bubbles; Aaravos will speak in white letters and black squiggly bubbles. There's also my narrations sometimes but I think it's pretty easy to tell when it's me speaking ❤. Okay let's go!!!

Callum likes to act weak in front of Aaravos and pretends like he's bad at most things. I think he secretly just wants to be pampered.

And now- for the extra extra brain rot probably relating to animals but also is here because I feel like this is very on brand for the both of them. Enjoy~

Again, this is not canon but it would be hilarious if it’s true, I didn’t bother looking up about these monkeys that’s how much I despise ss4. But if Ray’s pet is just a baby right now that means she’s raising a 100lbs death machine and Cally made the right call to dip with Aaravos. This idea came from a video I watched about some family keeping a chimp as a pet and it literally murdered them all.

Author's note #2: I will always acknowledge that there IS anger and contempt within Aaravos. No amount of sunshine and possitive energy can possibly recover him from those traumas - but this can be navigate in the best way possible when you consider the fact that he is also a known genius, both in normal and emotional intelligence. I think this fantastically synergize with Callum's curiosity but extra kind and understanding self, leading to some very special moments and facial expressions. Something they completely destroyed forever in the show and I will always be angry with that.

Thank you for making it till the end, this was a very long ask despite the question being fairly simple. I love these two character with all of my heart, and as always, I am so blessed to have at least some people here to share my undying passion for them ❤💗💜🏃‍♂️

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salembutnotthecat · 16 days

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More Yulya/Novak and him being an absolute idiot eating gluten? Maybe in an important date, so he decides to just Suck It Up?

novak being an absolute idiot is my favorite flavor of request/fic, so i deeply appreciate this

also i've been missing these two so i'm so excited to write this

some background info: most figure skating competitions (international level) have banquets and stuff after the event itself. so i decided what better way for novak to be an absolute moron who thinks he's invincible. also wanted to introduce some more characters.

tw emeto, food intolerance, stomach pain (the obligitory 'novak is an idiot and won't tell his fiancée girlfriend' warning as well)

Novak can't say he dislikes the fact that even though he came with her, he can't spend most nights with Yuliya.

Sure, Yuliya might have been able to spend those nights in his hotel room, but neither of them really wanted to test that theory. Not right now, not when Yuliya is only in her second season back into competition.

Novak also can't say he's happy things turned out the way they did with the Mavericks. He really isn't happy that he had to step away from playing, and he's even less happy about the fact that the Mavericks lost their conference game and were done for the season. Novak is sure he's taking to it harder because he was there, on the sideline, he should have been able to play. But he can't play, he knows he can't. And it kills him.

But what he is happy about is being able to travel with Yuliya. Being able to go with her to Sheffield for the European Championships. Marina was more than happy to take Elya for the week. Novak would have brought her, but she was nine now. She was in school, more important schooling than had this happened when he was still playing.

Novak tried to think of the bright side. He tried to think of the positive things that went in with all of this mess. And that made it so much better.

Yuliya qualified to compete at the European Championships. Truth be told, Novak was incredibly impressed. Not that he didn't have the highest level of faith he could possibly have in the woman he asked to marry him, but he also knew from her that qualification was no easy task.

He was ecstatic she invited him to come with. Sure, having separate hotel rooms wasn't ideal, but he still saw her doing what she loved, and he still spent time with her.

"Do you want to come with me?" She had asked that evening, as she got ready in his hotel room.

Novak had shut his laptop, abandoning the thesis paper he was working on. It wasn't due for weeks and he was far enough ahead.n That was another thing he was thankful for, no longer playing meant he could finish his master's degree. Not that it mattered now, but it would be useful. If he ever needed it anyway.

"Come with you where?" Novak asked.

"To the banquet?" Yuliya said, "It's honestly pretty fun. Hey, can you fix this?"

She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her hair away, Novak went to fix the collar of her dress. Or, whatever it was.

"Am I allowed to?" Novak asked, "I don't want you to-"

"Trust me, they don't care," Yuliya said, "At least, they never had before. Kirill's going to be there, Zalatoi said he might as well. He's not feeling so hot after his program which is to be expected. Wyatt too, I'm sure Wyatt will ask you all about Jayden but-"

"Yeah, I can go," Novak said, "You're lucky my mom convinced me to pack something nice."

That was how he ended up here. Sitting at a table with Yuliya. With Yuliya's friends. Other European skaters. It felt like another gala dinner, or a wedding reception. But it also didn't.

There was a lot of conversation. And Novak was pleasantly surprised how many people wanted to talk to him. He would never tell Yuliya, but he had been incredibly worried that everyone would either ignore him or not want him there. Novak wasn't much of an extrovert, but it was nice to just have people around who at least seemed tolerant of him being here.

He hadn't even realized dinner came, hadn't realized he's eaten either. But before he knew it, the staff was taking plates away. Including from him.

Yuliya was engrossed in a conversation with a girl from Bulgaria. Melina, Novak thought Yuliya had introduced her. Novak was more than happy to sit back and just listen to the conversations around him.

Kirill was talking to Yuliya and Melina. Something about World Championships, something about a place he went, they were talking vacations and sights before Novak knew it.

As time slipped away, Novak found it harder and harder to keep up with the conversation around him. He checked his watch, but forgot the time almost as soon as he looked away. It didn't matter, really.

Novak felt... weird. He didn't know how to explain it. Not immediately.

"Hey, I'll be right back," He whispered in Yuliya's ear, kissing her cheek lightly.

Novak excused himself from the table with a casual smile, excusing it as needing a quick bathroom break. He made his way through the lively crowd, the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter fading as he stepped into the quiet of the restroom.

Leaning against the cool marble sink, Novak took a moment to collect himself. His stomach churned uncomfortably, and he realized with a pang of regret that he must have eaten something that didn't agree with him. That was the only thing he could think of. After all, it was possible. He hadn't really been paying attention to what he was eating, and he definitely didn't want to make a deal out of it by saying anything. Unless this was something else, but it didn't feel like anything else. Really, it didn't feel like much of anything.

Splashing some water on his face, Novak tried to push the discomfort aside.

As Novak stood in front of the mirror in the restroom, took a few breaths, he couldn't shake off the sense of unease that had settled over him like a heavy fog.

Physically, he felt a knot of discomfort coiling in his stomach, a nagging sensation that something wasn't right. It was like a subtle but persistent ache, a dull throb that intensified with every passing minute. His mouth felt dry, he tasted the faintest trace of blood, he'd been biting his cheek of a little bit, he assumed. Maybe, then, it was anxiety. Being in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar people. Sure he knew Yuliya's friends by legal definition, but they were her friends. Not his.

Despite these unsettling sensations, Novak tried to muster a sense of determination. He couldn't let this ruin Yuliya's night, not when she was so excited about the event. Taking a deep breath, he straightened his posture and splashed some water on his face, hoping to wash away both the physical discomfort and the mental fog.

As he returned to the banquet hall, the sights and sounds of the lively gathering seemed to come into sharper focus, though the knot in his stomach persisted. Novak resolved to push through, putting on a brave smile for Yuliya's sake. She wanted him here, he knew she did. He wasn't going to let her down.

Novak returned to the table with a practiced smile, hoping to blend back into the lively conversations seamlessly. Yuliya, ever perceptive, glanced at him with a gentle concern in her eyes.

"Everything okay? You were gone for a bit," she asked softly, her concern laced with a touch of worry.

Novak waved off her concern with a casual shrug. "Just needed a breather, all good," he reassured her. Yuliya nodded understandingly and turned back to her conversation with Melina, the topic shifting to upcoming competitions and training routines.

As the evening progressed, Novak's condition worsened despite his attempts to hide it. The knot in his stomach tightened, and waves of nausea washed over him with increasing frequency. At one point, he tied back his hair without thinking about it. The vibrant conversations around him blurred into an indescernable mix of voices, making it difficult for him to focus.

As he sat there, he only felt worse. As quickly as he realized something wasn't right, things took a turn for a worst. The need to be sick was urgent now, a desperate plea from his body to rid itself of whatever had caused this turmoil.

Yuliya was engrossed in a discussion with another skater, unaware of Novak's sudden departure. However, Kirill, who sat nearby, noticed Novak's hurried exit and the strained expression on his face.

Concerned, Kirill excused himself from the conversation and discreetly followed Novak to the restroom.

As Novak leaned heavily against the bathroom sink, his hands trembling slightly, he was hit with a wave of intense nausea that seemed to consume him from the inside out. The once-faint discomfort had escalated into a full-blown ordeal, his stomach twisting and churning as if in protest against whatever had triggered this sudden sickness.

Before he could register the severity of his condition, he turned quicker than he thought he could, dashing for one of the stalls, completely forgetting to shut the door, heaving uncontrollably. The taste of bile and the acrid scent filled the small restroom, adding to his misery. Each retch was accompanied by a sharp pang of pain, his body convulsing with the effort to expel whatever had upset his stomach so drastically.

Just as he struggled to catch his breath between bouts of vomiting, the bathroom door creaked open, and Kirill's concerned face appeared in the mirror's reflection. Kirill didn't hesitate, immediately taking action to check on Novak.

"Hey, easy there," Kirill said softly, placing a hand on Novak's back in a comforting gesture.

Novak spit, coughed, tried to catch his breath. Before getting so sick he fell to his knees.

"Ah shit, one of those," he hears Kirill say behind him.

Yuliya told him something about Kirill. But Novak couldn;t remember what it was. It was enough for Novak to know Kirill wasn't mad, at least.

Novak's face was pale, sweat beading on his forehead despite the coolness of the restroom. His whole body trembled with exhaustion and the exertion of being violently ill. He felt weak and drained, his muscles protesting with every movement.

"Here," Kirill reached around, loosening a few buttons on Novak's chest without thinking.

"I-I don't know what happened," Novak managed to gasp out between breaths, his voice hoarse and strained. The sudden onset of sickness had caught him completely off guard, leaving him entirely shaken.

"It's okay, sometimes these things happen," Kirill reassured him, patting his back gently. "Just focus on breathing for now. Take small sips of water when you can."

Novak moved over. He didn’t want to tell Kirill to get his hands off him, but the touch was an annoyance at best. So, he simply moved over. He leaned against the stall wall, trying to steady his ragged breathing. The taste of bile lingered in his mouth, a bitter reminder of his body's revolt.

“This just happened?” Kirill asked.

Novak nodded, “I don’t… know why. Please don’t tell Yuliya.”

Kirill nodded in understanding, "I won't say anything if you don't want me to," he assured Novak, “But maybe you should consider telling her. She'd want to know you're not feeling well."

Novak hesitated, torn between wanting to keep Yuliya in the dark to avoid ruining her night and the practicality of getting some rest. "I... I'll think about it," he replied vaguely, not wanting to commit to either course of action just yet.

Kirill gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before stepping back slightly, giving Novak some space. "Take it easy. If you need anything, just let me know. And here, take this so you don’t exactly smell like you just puked up your dinner when you talk to Yuliya.”

Kirill grabbed a pack of gum from his pocket and handed it over. before leaving the restroom to give Novak some privacy.

Alone in the restroom, Novak took a few moments to compose himself. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts, trying to come up with a plausible excuse to leave the banquet without causing undue concern. Finally, he decided on a simple explanation that wouldn't raise too many questions.

When Novak returned to the table, Yuliya immediately noticed the tired lines etched on his face. "Everything alright?" she asked, her concern evident in her voice.

Novak managed a weak smile, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, mom’s just trying to call.”

Yuliya nodded understandingly, her expression softening with concern. "Do you need to go?" she asked, ready to accommodate his needs.

"I think I should," Novak replied, relieved that his excuse seemed to work. "Sorry to cut out early."

Yuliya shook her head, her concern evident. "Don't apologize, your mom comes first. Take care of whatever it is, okay? I’ll come up in a bit anyway.”

Novak nodded gratefully, excusing himself from the table and making his way back to his hotel room.

Novak was exhausted. He wasn't sure how he ended up so terribly spent, but here he was.

He intended to put on something more comfortable and lay down. By now, his stomach was killing him and he was unbearably nauseous. A million things ran through his head as to why he was so sick. It was so sudden. He felt fine earlier, really he did. He felt fine until after dinner.

At some point, Novak dozed off. It didn't last long. Before Novak knew it, he stumbled out of bed and hurried to the bathroom, his body heaving with the familiar sensation of sickness. He barely made it to the toilet in time, the sound of retching echoing in the confined space. Each wave of nausea was accompanied by a rush of adrenaline, his heart racing with the intensity of the sickness that seemed to have no end.

Meanwhile, Yuliya had returned to the hotel room, her footsteps quiet as she entered. Concern etched her features as she noticed Novak's absence from the room. His phone was on the nightstand. She walked over and plugged it in for him.

"Novak?" she called out softly, her voice tinged with worry.

The sound of vomiting from the bathroom answered her question before Novak could. With a sinking feeling in her chest, Yuliya hurried to the bathroom door, pushing it open to find Novak hunched over the toilet, his face pale and beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

"Novak, what's wrong?" Yuliya's concern was evident as she knelt down beside him, one hand pushing back some hair that got in the way. The sight of him in such distress tugged at her heart, her worry for his well-being overriding any inconvenience or plans for the evening.

Novak glanced up at her, his eyes filled with a mix of embarrassment and discomfort.

"I... I don't know," he admitted hoarsely, the truth of his situation laid bare in front of Yuliya. "I've been feeling off since the banquet, and it just keeps getting worse."

Yuliya's gentle touch and comforting presence offered some solace to Novak as he struggled through another bout of sickness. Yuliya hated to leave him, but knew he hated her being so close when he wasn't feeling well. She stepped out, she changed out of her nice dress. She came back with a water bottle, just as Novak coughed up one last mouthful of whatever was making his stomach so pissed off.

Once the episode passed and Novak sat back, his breathing still ragged.

"Kirill was worried about you," Yuliya said, standing to grab a cup from the sink, pouring some water in the cup.

"Yeah, he followed me, for some reason," Novak said.

"Kirill has a chronic vomiting condition," Yuliya said, "It's like a sixth sense, he knows when someone is going to throw up."

"Wait how did-"

"I texted Marina," Yuliya said, "Asked her if she and Elya were okay after what you told me."

"Fuck, why?" Novak sighed.

"Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well, you didn't have to come to the banquet if-"

"I was feeling fine earlier," Novak said, "Genuinely, I don't know what happened. I ate dinner with you guys and just started feeling shitty."

Yuliya sighed, sitting next to Novak without a word. Novak looked to her, confused by her sudden silence.

Yuliya lightly faceplanted into his shoulder. Novak would have been worried, more worried about her than how terrible he felt. But Yuliya started laughing.

"You are so stupid," she scolded gently, her tone laced with exasperation but also a deep caring for his well-being.

Novak winced slightly at her words, knowing she was right but not wanting to admit it fully.

"You had what I did, didn;t you?" Yuliya asked, "What… most of us had."

"I did but I mean," Novak said, "I didn't think about it and even if I had I didn't want the trouble of-"

"Zalatoi is complicated, he has to eat both gluten free and vegetarian or else he ends up like you," Yuliya said, "Kirill always substitutes the actual meal for a few sporadic rounds of lighter things, like a soup or salad or whatever they have. They are used to it, babe."

"I know, I know," he muttered, his gaze downcast as he felt a pang of guilt for causing such a scene.

Yuliya sighed, reaching for a towel to dampen with cool water and handing it to Novak. "Here, wipe your face. Then we can lay down and cuddle to make up for you giving me a heart attack and a half.," she said, her voice softening as she resumed her comforting gestures.

As Novak cleaned himself up, Yuliya couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration and fondness towards him. His tendency to downplay things and brush off concerns had always been a source of mild irritation, but she knew it came from a place of not wanting to make a fuss or draw attention to himself.

"We'll make sure you're okay before anything else," Yuliya assured him, her hand resting on his shoulder in a reassuring gesture. It would have been nice to stay that way.

But it was Yuliya. Yuliya lightly smacked the back of Novak's head. "For fucks sake, next time pay more attention to what you eat."

"Oh," Novak said, "Well, if I do that, then I get to miss out on your excellent bedside manner and caregiving."

Yuliya smiled, "Keep talking and I'll drag you to bed, literally. Across the floor."

"You're hot when you're annoyed," Novak told her, smirking slightly.

Yuliya went to speak, but as always such a gesture left her speechless for a moment. She smiled again.

"Yeah, I know," Yuliya teased, "You're ugly when you aren't sending me into cardiac arrest."

"I'm what now?"

"Jokes on you," Yuliya interrupted, "You practically always send me into cardiac arrest."

#emeto #sickfic #emeto fic #emeto cw #emeto tw #emetophilia #the chronicles of novak daskalov being a fucking idiot #food intolerance tw

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yarameijer · 16 days

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Hiiii Yara!!!!

I have changed accounts bc I forgot my password, but I was Flan-Girl304! I have been commenting in ur fics for years now lol, except in the last couple of updates, bc, yk, lost my password.

Anyways, I was rereading Accidental Reverse, as one does, and now I really want to know your opinion on the relationship between Sengoku and Tenma, because I love the idea of Sengoku being so protective and caring of the rest of the team and noticing Tenmas problems/struggles early on.

He really is like a pilar of peace between all the chaos of raimon, isn't he? (Most of the time)

Also, completely unrelated, but I just realized how long it has been since Accidental Reverse started, I was still in school. Now I'm on my last year in pyschology. And now knowing the struggles of university, I absolutely understand ur updating schedule, I haven't updated my own fics in ageeeees. But I'm still hyped for whatever you decide to post in the future!

Anyways, hope you're doing well!!!

WHOAAA I CAN’T BELIEVE IT, it’s been so long!!! Hi!!! How have you been??

I'm good, just super tired! University's been pretty demanding and I ended up pulling an all-nighter last night to almost completely finish my thesis, so I am going to bed very very soon.

‘’rereading, as one does’’ you know it’s almost 300K, right

Aww Sangoku, yes we love him. He’s great. He’s the best, hands down. He’s the voice of reason, the eye of the storm; he fades into the background when compared to other members on the team, both in terms of personality and appearance (...pink hair, anyone?)

I headcanon that Sangoku is the eldest on the team and that makes him feel responsible for his teammates. We know from the anime he’s already a very caring and responsible person, as shown by his interactions with his mother; she works late often, so he is in charge of groceries and cooking and other chores. He was canonically captain before Shindou and never really got rid of some habits from that time.

Which means that, just like Shindou, Sangoku understands Tenma's struggles as captain and tries to support him as much as possible; he did the same thing when Shindou was made captain after him, although of course the specifics are different because Tenma and Shindou are different. Sangoku doesn't really interfere with the leadership part; he's not one of the loudest voices on the team, and he doesn't want to be. He can leave the decision making to Shindou, Kirino, Tenma, Tsurugi, all the more outspoken members, all more qualified and talented than him - that’s what he thinks.

Instead he tries to help in more subtle ways: by caring.

(This doesn’t just apply to Tenma, of course. Sangoku keeps an eye on the whole team - literally and figuratively. He’s the keeper, he’s always in the back, always in position to keep watch over his teammates during a match, and that doesn’t end when the match does.)

He keeps an eye on Tenma whenever he can. Does he look tired? Upset? Ill? If Sangoku notices this, depending on the severity, there's a few different things he might do. If it's not that bad, he'll usually cue in the other first-years and let them drag Tenma along to hang out and unwind for a bit. The quickest way to get Tenma to forget about his worries for a bit is to let him spend time with his yearmates and act his age. They're a chaotic bunch and there's no room for worry or stress there.

If it's worse, Sangoku might interfere more directly. If it's more of an internal problem in the team, Sangoku can and will tell the others to lay off (Shindou means well, but sometimes he gets carried away). The rest of the team listens to him, and this is a rare enough event that the few times he's had to do it, it's been very effective.

If it's an external problem, Sangoku can't honestly do much. In those cases the whole team is stressed and trying to support each other, and as much as he wishes he could, Sangoku can't just go up to their opponents and tell them to knock it off. Instead, he'll ensure (by teaming up with the managers) that there's enough snacks and drinks present for everyone, and try to keep them all calm and rational.

Sometimes, when Tenma is being especially stubborn, Sangoku will outright scold him and tell him to go home, go to bed, take a break. Tenma definitely doesn't like this, but he respects Sangoku too much to deny him.

It's even happened a few times that someone else on the team cued in Sangoku. They know Tenma will listen to him, even when he's being stubborn, and they're not afraid to misuse it.

And always Sangoku is just ready with a listening ear, an offer to help, little check-ins, even when nothing bad is happening and Tenma is just busy or mildly stressed.

Like I said, Sangoku does this with most of the team, but he's more aware of Tenma. This, again, stems from having been captain himself. Early on, when Tenma became captain, Sangoku worried and tried to make sure the kid was doing alright, and that just stuck. Even years later after Tenma has proven himself more than capable, it's an old instinct that Sangoku can't get rid of.

And Tenma doesn’t really… know? Sure, after being captain for so long, he knows the dynamics of his team. How Sangoku is the voice of reason - no, rather, how he’s the calm inside the storm, the one who worries quietly and cares for them all and has taken the responsibility to watch over them through their craziest adventures and laziest days. He knows, by logical reasoning and several late night instances where Sangoku was the one to check up on him and tell him to get some rest, that Sangoku does it for him too and he appreciates that more than he could ever say. He just doesn’t notice that Sangoku is a little more keyed into his well being specifically - probably the only one who does is Shindou, and that’s because Shindou is the exact same way, for the exact same reason (they both agreed to make yet another first-year captain, when they know the burden of it; they refuse to let him drown under the pressure).

So Tenma hasn’t noticed, is not as close with Sangoku as some of their other teammates, and Sangoku honestly doesn’t mind. Truth be told, after so much time he barely notices it himself, it’s just become a habit.

Their relationship is interesting because they don't really hang out outside of the team - sure, if the team will go out together, they'll both join if they can, but they don't usually meet up with just the two of them. They’re both closer with other people on the team. Their relationship originated as simply senpai and kouhai - Sangoku feeling a sense of responsibility towards a younger teammate, Tenma looking up and listening to an older teammate. And yet it’s grown so much from what it was. Tenma knows Sangoku's door is always open and he can always count him. Sangoku respects Tenma as his captain, and cares for him as a friend rather than a kouhai.

Funnily enough, they’ve got a bit of a similar opinion on taking care of the rest of the team. Perhaps Tenma has been unconsciously imitating Sangoku’s behavior in the way he cares for them, and even handles them when they’re acting rash. It actually makes Sangoku his biggest ally in getting the team to behave! As we see in Accidental Reverse, Tenma is fully capable of being the craziest on the team, but in his actual timeline where he's captain, he's usually the semi-responsible one, if you'll believe it (in his defense, if something happens, he's the one who has to deal with the paperwork). And Sangoku is most often the voice of reason on the team, so he will fully support Tenma when they're trying to get the team to NOT do anything stupid for once.

So yeah. In summary, this is a relationship that was at the start nothing more than regular senpai and kouhai, and funnily enough never changed much in their roles - but the sentiment behind it? That has become much more genuine. Sangoku doesn’t look out for Tenma and feel responsible because that’s what is expected of him, but because it’s Tenma. And Tenma doesn’t respect and listen to Sangoku because he’s older, but because Sangoku has time and time proven that there are few people Tenma truly appreciates and admires more.

So! I hope you enjoyed that. Oh, don’t mention how long I’ve been working on AR, I know exactly how you feel. I uploaded the preview for it on my sixteenth birthday. In less than three weeks I’ll be celebrating my twenty-third.

I am still planning to continue though, I just need to deal with stubborn characters who don’t want to be written, tss.

It was really great hearing from you again!

#inazuma eleven #inazuma eleven go #ie11 #ina11 #ie go #ina11 go #accidental reverse #accidental reverse ask #matsukaze tenma #sangoku #sangoku taichi

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oliveroctavius · 2 years

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idk if its an accurate word since it's not usually intentional, but how do you feel about the queer coding with Eel's gender? (especially in the 2018 comic)

to steal someone else's joke phrasing that puts it well:

I... have complex feelings on the 2018 solo's writing overall. I think my final thesis is: The character decisions were cool enough, but 2018 Plas misses out on some SUPER interesting possibilities by ignoring so much of original Plastic Man's lore.

I hope you sent this ask expecting an essay because you're getting one under the cut. Contains musings on the nature of comedy, "passing", and comics-typical transphobia.

~ ~ ~

I'm going to start with gendered attraction instead of presentation—I think it explains some things.

"The noble chaste hero gets a funny horny sidekick" is an old trope. OG Plas was the neutral hero. He seems actively scared of flirtation.

IIRC his only on-panel kiss is when he lets a lady who electrocutes via kiss power catch him, in order to defeat her (PC #100).

(Including these panels just because they're gorgeously rendered.)

The JLA writes him Like That because they'd decided he was the Horny Sidekick now. This ran into creepy-guy-threatening-women territory quick. 2018 Plas being the bouncer (get it?) at a strip club feels like both a continuation and direct rebuttal to that characterization.

Is there a hard line between queer coding and comedy-driven sexuality?

Comedy often works via expectation/setup -> subversion/punchline. Gender and sexuality standards are a kind of setup. (A man would enjoy attention from a pretty woman. A man would rather not see the Riddler in a thong.) Implied asexuality or bisexuality is then a subversion, a punchline.

I'd say it's on a sliding scale. Mockery wants you to laugh, because the subversion is impossible or unnatural. Earnest representation wants you to nod, because the subversion is possible and acceptable.

Bisexual Plas is in the spirit of the original, somewhere on that sincerity scale. Did I mention an off-panel golden age kiss?

Also, Plas and Woozy lived together and slept in Bert & Ernie beds. Listen: Woozy is a whole pile of transgressions you're supposed to find funny. If you're going for bisexual Plas, why not make him like Woozy and retroactively validate some of those jokes as possible states of being? Just sayin'.

Right, right. Gender. I'm guessing you're thinking of is the parallel drawn between Plas and the explicitly trans kiddo Pado Swakatoon. Seeing the Suave Prince of Pine Street boldly claim such a seemingly silly identity makes Eel decide to embrace Plastic Man.

So I'm disappointed that they dropped something that could make the trans parallel explicit: OG Plastic Man wasn't just Eel in shades. He created a new, permanent face and body for himself both as an expression of identity and a protective measure. Being "outed"--even though he has not physically been Eel for years at that point--nearly loses him friends, his job, and his freedom.

All 2018 Eel is really considering changing is his moral compass. With little else at stake, the parallel feels weaker.

The pressure to "pass" is an (unintentional) theme written all over pre-DCverse Plastic Man. Explicitly related to gender, even: the meanspirited man-in-dress jokes were rarely targeted at Plas even though his job included missions in girlmode.

If a joke is the gap between expectation/reality, "passing" is meeting enough expectations to close that gap. Plas fits the mold enough to dodge most of the 1940s otherwise rampant transmisogyny.

But passing as female is dangerous, too. When Plas takes a woman's place, he's usually trying to act as a lightning rod to a threat targeting her. That's another reason I love the "bouncer for a strip club" thing. They could push his identification with the dancers even further. Skimpy costume, dubiously legal night job, talented physical performer whose intelligence is often underestimated and whose secondary identity puts them at risk for violence...

It's odd. The 2018 series only has Plas take on other forms partially, momentarily, and usually just as a punchline. Passing as other people or innocuous objects to go places unaccosted is usually an entire pillar of his shtick.

When people "clock" him, they tend to shout something like "That's not a table! It's Plastic Man!" But if he's shaped like a table, and acting as a table, it would be just as accurate to say "Plastic Man is a table now" until he resumes his "normal" form. He can be one thing today and another thing tomorrow and all of those things for real.

Your ask uses the word "queer". That word shows up in the oldest comics in its original meaning: out-of-the-ordinary. Those who self-identify as "genderqueer" often do so because they'd rather not define themselves in relation to male or female-ness. "Passing" only has meaning if your goal is to be seen as one of the Expected Categories. What if you're something entirely unexpected?

(At this point I'm just kind of adding vaguely relevant panels to break up my wall of text. Thank you, 70s Plas.)

2018 Plas does briefly turn into Wonder Woman. I don't really know why he does this? Did he want to get tackled? Either way, he talks like Plas Doing A Parody--this isn't really a form he's trying to own.

Later he turns into Harley Quinn, mostly. The artist later apologized for adding serious crotch bulge to how she normally draws Harley. Which could be based, but the "transgression" lasts for just one absurdist sexed-up panel.

Plastic Man is the character it makes least sense to trot out the "men can only ever parody female-ness" jokes on. He doesn't even have toes—what's inside this man's Speedo is a state of perpetual quantum uncertainty.

I love Pado Swakatoon being included in the 2018 comic. But Pado's transition, rejecting identity A, preferring identity B, probably isn't the best lens for reading Eel. Transition doesn't have to be a straight line to a fixed destination; it's slipperier than that.

I'd argue "being Plastic Man" isn't a goal identity; he's just a conveniently safe default for someone who can be anyone. He's more defined his ability and enjoyment of change: the joy of self-determination without boundaries. The joy of being able to change one's mind at any time for any trivial reason. Because it can be helpful, because it can be fun, and because it can be him, all of it.

#plastic man #anon #didn't finish adding image ids. will go back and complete that later #eel o'brian #hey. why does the 2018 one keep calling attention to the fact that eel has a dick actually.#maybe women writing comics can take a little L for that

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kandyrezi · 1 year

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Kcalb + Wodahs [thesis]

Still working on some fics, but in the meanwhile, I had this post in my drafts for so long and I forgot about it entirely, so I thought I might as well edit and post it now.

I was going to discuss the “Kurotsuno & Sullivan’s relation to Kcalb” theory first, but I got finished with this one a lot faster, so I’ll be posting the former one at a later date. This headcanon post concerns Wodahs & Kcalb + their relation to one another.

This is just for fun, so I apologize for any potential inaccuracies - if that’s the case, then I implore people to point them out so I can try and fix any inconsistencies there might be. This is quite short, but there’s always a lot to talk about.

I want to first start off by not focusing on either Kcalb or Wodahs, but on other characters far distant from TGG to give a bit more context and background behind my theory. Namely, this image here is quite intriguing.

Ivlis, Rosaliya, & Reficul are labeled as, “Manufactured by God” - that is, they were created by the God of the world they (used to) reside in.

Two appear to be missing from this picture, leaving out Satanick & Kcalb, but they obviously had to appear somehow. They did not materialize out of thin air by nothingness - we've seen previously, as an example, Siralos created Ivlis (& Igls) from flames, Meikai was created from a star by Satanick. So, if their corresponding Gods did not make them out of something, then where did they come from?

Speaking out of materializing out of thin air, All of the Gods ALSO had to “appear” somehow, as they are not clearly the highest deities in DSPverse, considering Vicers, Justim, Photon, Nortkele, Reminiscences are all above them in terms of ranking and categorizing, although it's largely unknown what they are supposed to represent (in the grander scheme) or even what species they are. They could also similarly just be cosmic deities, but higher-ranking than the gods we currently know most about.

It is likely, as one of many possibilities, that either Justim or Vicers created them. Judging by the image below - by how Justim is in focus and standing in front of all the other gods - I’m inclined to think they are the one who created all the Gods, at the very least, since they have been stated to be “God of Gods” - yet Vicers has never been called “Devil of Devils”, which would make sense if Vicers only created two of them (Satanick and Kcalb), as the rest of the devils were created by their own corresponding Gods.

Justim: *gestures behind them* these r my ocs! ^ u ^

(Not really related as such, but Photon and Nortkele are fairly obvious in a sense what they’re supposed to represent (it’s pretty much spelled out in their names), but that leaves Reminiscences… so, maybe they (she?) are a personification of “Matter” while their dark counterpart is a personification of “Antimatter”? Either way, they’re supposed to represent at least something floating around in space? An atom? A neutron? We’ll have to wait patiently for a while longer for another clue.)

Anyway, back to Vicers.

“The power to bestow life and the power to take it all away.”

So, Vicers can both create and destroy, it seems like. If he really did make Kcalb, he could have bestowed the latter with his destruction powers.

Vicers & Justim’s relationship seems quite complex, they’ve been inconsistently described as several things ( “can’t stand eachother, can’t live without one another either” / “used to have a big fight in the past”, and now “lovers” ), all these facebook relationship statues could be spread out within a specific span of time; maybe they started off as friends, then got into a conflict with one another, almost started (or did start) a war, then they made up, but it was still quite tense between them. At long last, they settled their differences and then became friends again, eventually lovers.

Wodahs could similarly have been created by either Vicers or Justim (or they could have created them together, as sort of a peace treaty and proof that two opposite beings can co-exist together, but I am more inclined towards only Vicers having manufactured Kcalb, as well as Wodahs.)

EDIT: Future!me has come to edit this wall of text before posting, having now read some of the more recent information from one of DSP's drawing livestreams. "Did Etihw create Wodahs?" question was answered with an uncertain: "You can say yes AND no to that." well, that kinda throws the "Vicers created Wodahs" theory out the window, doesn't it?

So, what if Etihw gave life to something that originally belonged Kcalb? Like a feather from a crow?

Characters of different species can be “blood siblings” as we’ve seen (Igls Unth is an angel, Ivlis is a demon, but they’re still technically 'siblings' created by the same god, if you see them as such), so could Kcalb & Wodahs be the same? It might be more appropriate to refer to them as half-siblings in this case.

Reficul & Sol / Ivlis & Igls Unth “Devil and the Head Angel” - both duos are considered blood siblings, so why couldn’t Wodahs & Kcalb be considered the same? (granted, Reficul used to be an angel, so using her is kind of a flimsier example.)

I personally can’t get behind either 1) “Kcalb used to be an angel” or 2) “Wodahs used to be a demon” theories, because

1) For Kcalb to have been angel, he would have to have been created by Etihw in the first place, but that’s clearly (as we saw in the previous point) not the case.

2) Wodahs has been an angel since he was a young babey;

and a FALLEN angel, no less? Gray wings in DSP’s universe are associated with damnation by god... hmm…

We’ve seen angels turn into demons, but never a demon turning into an angel. The concept of "redemption for your sins" doesn’t appear to exist with Gods & their angels. Once you’ve turned into a demon, there is no "reversing" that effect or gaining back the status as an angel. It’s the same with biblical/mythological concept of angels/demons (as all fallen angels automatically become demons, but never in reverse).

Since all angels are typically created by Gods, Wodahs could possibly be an outlier and considered not a true angel, but a “farce” in a sense he was created out of something that originally belonged to a Devil, hence why his wings have been gray since he was a child.

He’s also quite brutal in some instances in TGG in contrast to most angels; he keeps bullying/purposefully reminding Kcalb about his missing eye (instead of just letting go of the past), chokes out Grora and almost breaks her leg when she messed up his flowerbeds, and his GGT!self was seen trying to drunkenly molest GGT!Grora in one of the omakes...)

But, maybe in the past things were different with someone like Etihw (who is generally considered an anomaly amongst the other gods), who was willing to give Wodahs actual pure white wings and halo when he left Kcalb to go over to Etihw’s side during the war (thus is the reason Kcalb took his eye for betraying him in the first place).

He still shows more loyalty to Kcalb in the game over Etihw despite everything, which reaffirms my theory of him not having a very close relation to Etihw post-war.

Curious to hear anyone else's thoughts on this!

#funamusea #mogeko #the gray garden #wodahs #deep-sea prisoner #dsp #kcalb #personal

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