Tumgik
#He’s definitely of more value to them as a worker than I am
prolibytherium · 9 months
Text
Guy at my job has a one sided beef with me and now my emails are a war zone. Trench warfare in the emails. Fire and screaming and etc.
10 notes · View notes
marthawrites · 1 year
Note
"don't shut me out. please"
I hope it is not too late for me to join the celebration ☺️ Congratulations! 💕👏🏼
Thank you sooososo much! You are such a gem and I appreciate all of your fandom love more than you know! I did my best to include a (one shot appropriate) slow burn, angst, and a happy ending. I hope you enjoy this ride MWAH!
Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning
Tumblr media
Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader
Word Count: 6.3k+
About: A chance encounter with Aemond leads to a whirlwind of emotions. Over the next few months you both fail, in yourselves and in the relationship, and learn from the mistakes.
Includes: Chance encounter, age difference (references to Aemond x Alys) mentions of cheating, allusions to cheating, angst, second chance romance, and smut featuring vaginal fingering, possessive sex, and unprotected protected vaginal sex
Note: Hello lovely reader! This is the longest piece I've wrote in quite awhile - whew! I also feel like it's one of the more ambitious one-shot fics I've worked on/completed. Reader is non-descript. As always, please, enjoy!
read part 2 Between the Covers here
-
I.
There were two things tied for number one on your five-year goal list.
First, be out of your city apartment (preferably as a home owner and not a renter)
Second, have a dog. 
They went hand in hand. One couldn’t happen without the other. So, it was a hard tie and you weren’t willing to budge on either. Until then, to take the edge off your self-proclaimed animal loneliness, you volunteered at a local shelter two nights a week. Mondays and Wednesdays.
While your day job wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or professional athlete – ones that your family pushed you to have while growing up – it still paid decently and had the potential for career advancement. And! You were able to live on your own. Not having a roommate was worth the dry job description. Besides, your boss was fair and most of your co-workers were friendly; a win win, really.
Tonight, Monday, you finished your shift, went home to change, then headed out to the shelter. Even though it was all volunteer hours you valued punctuality and did your best to get there around the same time each night.
“Hey! You made it!” Arryk called out to you when you stepped inside the building. Chaos sparked all around. He did a great job running and maintaining the schedule, and with the help of volunteers alongside regular staff, it was, more often than not, smooth sailing. Tonight, however, it appeared quite the opposite.
“Hey! Yeah, a few minutes later than usual, sorry!” You said as you walked over to him.
He waved a hand brushing off your apology. “No worries. We had a few people call in today. So, since being short staffed we’re definitely running behind. I know you normally help bathe the dogs with Baela tonight, but can I ask you to do something else instead?” He winced slightly with his question, unsure of your answer. He knew how much you loved Baela and cleaning the dogs!
You squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, crossing your arms. “You know I won’t administer shots. If I could get over my fear of needles I’d be a veterinarian and not an office worker like I am!” You scrunched your brows before one, all on its own accord, arched up dubiously.
“Ha!” He laughed. “No no no, I know. We have six dogs that need walking tonight. And I don’t think Targaryen can handle all of ‘em.”
“Helaena? She’s back?” You asked, eyes bright with surprise.
“She’s still away for that college trip. It’s her younger brother, Aemond. Have you met him before?”
You’d heard Helaena talk about him, of course, but you’d never met him. Shaking your head, you peered around the shelter looking for anyone else with the Targaryen tell-tale silver-blonde hair. No one caught your eye. “I haven’t. But, I don’t mind.”
“You are a lifesaver!” He praised. “He’s down the west hall getting them ready. Depending on how long you're here afterward, there might be another couple who could use a second walk. Terriers. You know how they are.”
“Happy to help, Arryk!” He was a good guy. You’d always liked him.
“Aemond’s tall, towheaded as the rest of his family, and has an eyepatch. You can’t miss him.” And with that Cargyll switched tasks and got right back to work.
Turning and walking down the west hall, you were happy to say, chaos began to fizzle out. This hall had the larger dogs; no wonder Aemond wouldn’t be able to walk all six at once. Even with the slow turn of summer to autumn sunset wouldn’t be for another three hours. Assuming all went well you’d be able to walk the second batch of dogs, too. 
Down the aisle were five opened doors with each respective dog ready for their walk. Their leashes were hooked onto the door so they couldn’t run amuck. You patted and scratched them, earning yourself more wagging tails, a few happy barks, and some excited licks. Looking to the end of the hall you saw someone who you assumed was your evening walking partner. He was kneeling, talking soothingly to a great big senior hound, while clasping the final buckle of their harness. “Hello, uh-, Aemond?” You called out feeling slightly self-conscious. 
Still kneeling, he turned his head to look up at you. Any softness in his single eye quickly hardened to match the rest of his sharp features. “Hey,” he said, caught off guard by your presence; someone he’d never seen calling him out by name. “Is there something I can help you with?” Slowly, in a single fluid motion, he stood up and the aged dog kept his eyes on him the whole time, panting happily.
Whoa. He was tall. And, at first sight, incredibly good looking: dressed in casual black clothes, long silver hair tied into a braid, with a scar along the left side of his face that you had to tell yourself not to stare at. His mouth was a unique shape, too, and you weren’t sure if he was merely waiting for a response or if he was smirking the tiniest pout at you. “Hi,” you said again with a nervous laugh. You told him your name. “Arryk sent me. Said you could use some help with the walk tonight?” ‘Play it cool, dummy. He’s really handsome, so what? He could be a huge asshole. Play. It. Cool,’ your inner voice said.
Did he have a mechanical eye beneath his patch? The way he looked at you, then, made you feel like he read your thoughts. “Ah. I could certainly use the help,” he said smoothly with a small curve of lip, turning his attention to the three dogs at the front of the hallway. “Wanna take those three?” He asked, looping the big dog’s leash around his wrist. “I mean, you can have any of them as long as I get this guy. He’s my favorite.”
Your pulse raced a little too fast. Clearing your throat, you smiled in an attempt to ease the butterflies in your belly. “I don’t mind. Why is he your favorite?” You turned and began to unclasp leashes from their doors; happy tips and taps of claws growing louder at the pups’ excitement.
“Reminds me of my girl at home,” Aemond replied, adoration clear in his voice. “Big and old, a little stinky, a little slobbery. The best kind, really.”
“Aw, that’s very sweet. I don’t have any pets. I get my fix here,” you laughed. Holding all three dogs in one hand, you pulled the door open with the other. Except, it didn’t open. On instinct, you tried again hoping Aemond didn’t notice.
He strode up next to you with the rest of the dogs in tow, smirking at you for real this time, as he said, “it’s a push door.”
You knew it was a push door. Fuck. He gave you a knowing glance over his shoulder as he walked out, waiting for you to follow along.
II.
You didn’t see Aemond on Wednesday and you couldn’t deny your disappointment when you left for the night. Come to find out you two had been volunteering at the same place for months – only on different days. He tended to be there Tuesdays and Thursdays. 
Monday had been a chance encounter. One you couldn’t shake out of your head. 
Before leaving tonight, however, you took a selfie with Aemond’s favorite old hound. You’d exchanged numbers but hadn’t an excuse to strike up a conversation. Yet. Now, with the selfie as an excuse, you opened a fresh text thread and sent him the photo along with:
Someone missed you tonight! 
While buckling up in your car and getting ready to reverse out of your parking spot, your phone dinged with an incoming message:
Very cute. Will you be there on Monday? Maybe Cargyll will assign up walking duties again.
Your belly flipped. Truthfully, you weren’t expecting him to message back – especially so quickly. Before you could stop yourself you sent back:
Yup! See you then?
And he sent:
I’ll find another excuse to be there. 
Feeling a little bold, you replied:
Excited to see you again! You have these adorable dimples when you smile. Maybe I’ll see those, too?
When nothing came through for a few minutes, you feared you might have gone too far. It was just a little innocent flirting, right? Nothing bad? And then:
Maybe so. See you Monday.
Smiling, you didn’t send anything back. It’d be your luck to say something dumb and rub him the wrong way. 
During your first walk, as soon as the ice broke, you both clicked really well. Hopefully – just maybe – things would flow like that again. The connection you felt, something akin to a liveware, couldn’t have been one-sided. He had to feel a spark of it, too; even if just a little.
You drove home, made dinner while facetiming one of your friends from uni, and when she asked about the spark in your eye you told her about your friend Helaena’s younger brother.
III.
“I seriously cannot believe you’ve never seen The Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit trilogy was a little silly, but watchable. But you haven’t even seen that?” Aemond asked clearly aghast at your lack of understanding his reference.
Tonight, you both got walking duty again and neither of you complained. And, this time, he regarded you with a softer look in his eye than his original sharp glance. He was dressed in dark casuals again and you hated (loved?) how good he made them look. His hair was in a bun and his eyepatch stayed firmly in place. You wanted to ask him about it but weren’t sure if you should try it yet. Instead, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re making it sound better and better the more you talk about it.”
“That’s because it’s the best.” The dogs pulled both of you along and you had to walk brisker than normal to keep up with them and Aemond’s longer legs. He seemed unaffected by it.
“So, you recommend I watch it?” You asked playfully.
“No,” he started, very serious. “I recommend you read it first and then watch the movies.”
If you had more breath in your lungs you’d have giggled – not laughed, but giggled. Something about the way he said it, and the totally serious look on his face, tickled you. “Will you watch them with me?”
The question appeared to catch Aemond off guard. He looked at you, lingering over your pinkened cheeks and smirking lips, before finally making it back to your eyes. Just when he opened his mouth to say something in reply, a completely unrelated thing stole his attention. Sometime during your bantering you’d made it back to the shelter, and a tall dark-haired woman called out, “there’s my sweet Aemond. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and you haven’t been answering your phone.”
If you thought Aemond attractive, this woman made him look like any regular ol' Joe. She was elegant, warmed by a late summer tan, and had raven dark hair cascading down her back; truly a vision of enchantment. When she sauntered to him and pressed her body to his, you felt like a voyeur watching the embrace.
“Alys,” Aemond breathed quietly. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want,” she answered as she trailed manicured fingers across the front of his chest.
She had a timeless look to her, the kind that concealed her age. She could have been anywhere from twenty-five to fifty, you thought. You really hadn’t a clue. All you knew, now, is that you should finish your task alone.
Aemond’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Posture tense. “I told you I was busy tonight–”
Before you could stop yourself you cut him off with an awkward wave. “See you later, Aemond.” And, with that, you walked inside before you overheard anything else they might be saying to each other. Turning to glance over your shoulder one last time, you were met with a look of deliberate triumph from Alys; she had the greenest eye you’d ever seen. 
It was haunting.
Driving home, you felt stupid. Aemond was just a guy you just met. It was silly to think someone like him would be single and even sillier to think your innocent flirtations would be working on him. You had half a mind to delete his number. Or, at the very least to delete the short message thread of your texts.
Instead of making dinner like you normally did, you called in delivery and facetimed with your friend as you waited. She immediately knew something was off and you were quick to tell her everything that happened.
Twenty minutes passed and you were starting to feel better. It’s not like you two hooked up or even kissed. It was just a chance meeting with playful banter. Nothing to get shook up about. “Food’s here. Thanks for listening to me. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You said as you got up to answer the door. 
When all else failed, your favorite food could always make you feel better.
Turning the tv on and sitting down amongst your couch pillows and blankets, you were getting ready to dig in when your phone rang. 
Aemond. 
Your insides did a weird flip and hunger disappeared entirely from your mind and belly. Should you answer? Let it go to voicemail? Turn the stupid thing off and completely ignore him? Right before the final ring, you decided. “Hello?”
“Hey,” he said, immediately sounding relieved. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t yet ready to call it a night with you.”
“It’s no biggie,” you replied. Lying. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything–,” you paused, searching for something else to say to soften the edge of your voice, “–the dogs were getting tired anyway.” God. It sounded stupid even to your own ears.
Aemond sighed through the phone. You wondered if he slid his hand down his face or through his hair. It sounded like he did. “No. Alys is… it’s complicated. She’s my ex and–”
“ –you don’t have to explain anything to me,” you said, cutting him off. “Really. It’s fine.” Despite it being a phone call, you tried to smile as if it would blunt the dismissal of your tone.
“I mean it,” he said. “I really wasn’t ready to say bye yet. What do you say you skip your regular Wednesday night plans and grab a milkshake or something with me?”
Your insides flipped again but for an entirely different reason this time. You knew it: the sparks definitely weren’t one sided. The firm set of Aemond’s jaw and the rigidness of his shoulders flashed once more in your mind’s eye. Since your break up with your long-term boyfriend you’d been on a few dates, but none of them lead to anything worthwhile. With how you and Aemond clicked, however? This date might lead to something more than a hook-up (or, attempt at a hook-up. Some men truly had no game). “Are you sure…?” You asked after a moment. “You and Alys looked pretty comfortable–,”
“ –I’m sure,” it was his turn to cut you off.
“Alright then. Let’s do it.”
IV.
It'd been two months since your first milkshake date with Aemond – the first of many dates. It was a guilty pleasure of yours and apparently one of his, too!
Your first kiss, first time meeting his elder dog, Vhagar, and first time meeting his family were all memories you cherished. 
The more you learned about Aemond’s relationship with Alys, the more you understood it "complicated". Including Targaryen drama, Targaryen business, and a list of other things you had a hard time following. It didn’t matter anymore, though, Aemond reassured you. Things were done between them and he only wanted you; proving it to you with fingers and mouth until you begged for a break.
A lesson you learned from your last relationship – one Aemond learned from his, too – was to be careful with love. As much as you genuinely enjoyed him and his company, a barrier stood between you that neither dared yet to cross.
Love.
Each day you fell for him a little more; you were scared to admit it. The scar of heartbreak healed slowly. Could you truly trust Aemond with that part of yourself? With the very essence of your heart? It’d been two months and you still weren’t entirely sure.
If he felt the same he’d say something, right?
Autumn blanketed the lands with brisk air, rainy days, and rolling fog. As days grew short and nights long, you and Aemond spent more time at your apartment or his quarter at the Targaryen estate. Your apartment was the clear favorite. Living alone had its perks: never having to worry about nosy family or friends who showed up unannounced.
And thank God you didn’t live with anyone else. 
"Mmh… fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day. I can't get enough of you. Let me make my girl feel good," he said against your mouth as one of his hands moved up the inside of your thigh. "Are you wet already? I bet you are," he chuckled, fingertips tracing your slit. "Mmm… I knew it. Your clit is sooo needy, isn't it?" 
Shit. Those hushed words, the glint in his eye, his rasped tone… you happily indulged him in whatever way he wanted. And him, you. Fingers, mouth, cock, he quickly learned what tricks made you melt. 
As much as he loved having you ride him, or bending you over, his absolute favorite was fucking you into the mattress. You sprawled out beneath him, hair messy and fanned out around your head, legs wrapped tight around his waist, fingernails on his body… he could never get enough of your blushed face beneath him, trembling and arching as he pushed you to peak after peak.
Your sheets had never been cleaned so often in your entire life.
It was particularly rainy today and you were both finished with everything on your to-do list. Aemond sat on the floor in front of you as you lounged in your overstuffed chair. You told him you'd read the Lord of the Rings as long as he read it to you. He didn't even pretend to be annoyed by your bargain. He read to you from his own collection, claiming he liked the worn feeling of the pages better than a new book's pages. 
Like any proper reader Aemond started with The Hobbit. You enjoyed it more than you thought you would. More so than the story, however, you enjoyed him reading aloud to you – he had the loveliest voice. You were about half way through The Fellowship of the Ring and the story continued to get better.
But, all afternoon, Aemond's phone never stopped going off. It seemed like every few minutes it would ping with some kind of notification. "Who's blowing you up?" You asked, annoyance creeping into your tone.
Stopping mid sentence, he looked. "Alys," he sighed as he scrolled through the various messages. 
You tried to not look over his shoulder to the texts. You really did. But there was something about Aemond's shift in posture, and the air around him, that made you suspicious. "What's going on?" You asked in your best nonchalant manner.
"She's asking if I have some of her clothes at my place still," he answered and you swore you saw pink spread atop his cheeks.
That caught you off guard. "Why would she have clothes–"
And whatever else you were going to say was abruptly cut off.
There, in a new string of messages, was the single text line, "I miss you, baby boy," followed by at least three photographs of Alys in lingerie and various stages of undress. 
"What the fuck Aemond!?" You asked, anger and hurt instantly warming your blood. "What the hell were those? Are you fucking joking?"
"I have no idea why she sent–"
" –is that why she left clothes at your place? Couldn't let her go for real? Jesus Christ I can't believe you." Anger flushed your face and bittered your words.
"Listen, please. Hear me out, bab–"
" –oh fuck off, Aemond, you don't get to 'babe' me around anymore. In fact, just leave."
He looked as hurt as you. And shocked. A hundred emotions played across his chiseled features. "No, really. Let me explain," he pleaded with eye and tone.
You weren't having it. You were cheated on before and he knew it. It made your own hurt cleave even deeper. You really fucking liked him. Maybe even loved him. And this whole time he had you and Alys? "I'm seriously about to get really fucking angry. Leave. Now."
He stood and left. Silent fury screamed around him like a whirlwind. He didn't even give you one final look over his shoulder.
He shut your door with a deliberate click.
You curled up in your blanket alone as fat ugly tears streamed down your face. You couldn't be bothered to grab a tissue for your snotty nose. 
Aemond's leather jacket was still draped over the back of your couch and his book still lay on the floor. Your crying somehow turned uglier at the realization.
Eventually you dozed off. With Aemond, you always had your phone on silent so you didn't hear all his missed calls and texts.
V.
The following month went by in a blur; you drowned yourself in work. You also stopped volunteering because you didn't want to give Aemond the opportunity to meet you there. By some feat of strength you ignored all his attempts at talking – and by proxy, apologizing.
The only thing you said to him was a single text:
I need time. Please understand
Part of you wondered how it affected him. His calls and texts became sparse until they eventually stopped.
Helaena asked where you'd been and you felt horrible lying to her. So, you didn't. After telling her the story she sighed and asked if you'd want to grab tea. You agreed. Meeting her at a local cafe allowed you to air out your feelings; laughs and tears alike. She was kind, and sweet, and supportive without being passive. She loved her brother but knew he had many of his own issues. You'd been friends for over a year and this was the first true heart to heart you shared.
Upon returning home you picked up the Fellowship and tried to read from where Aemond left off. But, it wasn’t the same without him and it only made you cry. Again.
VI.
The following morning, despite your car's newer model, it barely wanted to start for your drive to work. By a stroke of luck you made it there fine. And, made it back home that evening, too. But that was the end of your luck. It needed to be picked up and taken to a shop until a mechanic could see it.
Carless, you had to rely on Uber or public transportation. Yuck.
A few days of stress passed and now you were done for the week. Thank God for weekends. Unfortunately your groceries were extremely low and you would need to make a trip in the morning. You sighed and used it as an excuse to order pizza.
After waking up and a breakfast of (the last, and past its sell-by date) packet oatmeal you got around to make the walk to the nearest grocery store. Knowing you'd be walking home, too, the list was small. Carrying bags up two flights of stairs was hard enough, much less carrying them home a mile!
On the way back it started sprinkling. Great. Just great. You started walking faster with hopes of making quicker time than your leisurely stroll to the store. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, you heard your name called. Was that…? Stopping in your tracks you looked across your shoulder to the side of the road and saw none other than Aemond. You knew his car and voice anywhere. You didn't have to see yourself to know a dozen emotions played across your face.
"Hey," he said gently, his own features a mirror of yours.
"Hi," you said.
"Why are you walking in the rain with groceries?"
Slumping your unintentionally scrunched up shoulders, you sighed. "Stupid car died on me and it's been with the mechanic for almost a week."
He smiled softly. So soft. The outside of his seeing eye crinkled and emotion rushed to your chest. Your gut. "You're way too good to be walking alone. Let me drive you home at least?" 
You didn't resist. How could you? "Alright. Sure. Just dropping me off though, okay?" Guilt panged your chest. Did he feel it too? Could he read it on your face he knew so well?
"Alright," he answered, expression falling just slight. You might as well have stomped on his foot with how it affected you.
I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. Can we try it again? Can I hold your hand? God I love your hair in a ponytail. You smell good. Did you see the trailer for that new horror movie? I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. It all turned around your head like a fucking rotisserie chicken. It shouldn't be so hard to say any of those things to him. But it was.
You didn't say anything on the short ride home. Neither did he. His right hand flexed a few times and you wondered if he was having a hard time, too.
"Can you get it all upstairs?" He asked as he pulled into an empty spot and parked, looking across to you with horribly concealed emotion.
"Yes, but…," you trailed off momentarily, trying to read his face. "I still have your book and jacket. Wanna come up and grab them?" You asked hopefully.
He killed the engine faster than you could blink. "Yes! So that's where they've been. You could have mentioned it sooner," he said slightly accusingly, grinning at you with a spark of playfulness.
Leading the way upstairs to your apartment, you unlocked the door and disappeared inside. After placing your items down and grabbing Aemond's, you turned to look at him standing in the doorway. He leaned against it. Waiting. Quiet. He glanced around with a wistfulness that made your throat tight. You watched him watching you and your home until the air became awkward – was it half a second, a few seconds, longer? You weren't sure. 
Slowly you walked over to him. Your gaze flickered up at him as you handed his things back. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?" You asked. "Did you think I really wouldn't find out? Why did you stick around if I wasn't good enough?"
He blinked. Taken back. "You never even gave me the chance to explain." His jaw feathered before it tightened. His eye hardened.
You grabbed the door, fixing to close it on him. Now that you started talking – unloading pent up questions which kept you tossing and turning at night – you couldn't decide if you wanted to slam it on his face or yell. "I told you how I was cheated on! And you did it anyway! I trusted you, Aemond." Your voice thinned, sounding shrill even to your own ears.
One of his hands braced on the door so you couldn't close it on him. "So this is your revenge then, huh? Punishing both of us? Why don't you trust me?" Hurt and fury simmered in the lovely hue of his eye. A storm. No, a hurricane. "Alys and I have been done for months. Months. Even before you and I met. I'm sorry for what she did but I can’t control what she does. She was playing her wicked games trying to sabotage us– you and me. Don't shut me out. Please." 
He pleaded, every pore and line of his face begging for forgiveness. As each word came off his tongue they clicked into place in your head. He meant it. He was telling the truth. Before you could stop yourself your fists balled into the front of his shirt, pulling him down so your mouth crashed up to his. "You mean it?" You asked through the kiss.
Instantly he leaned down into you, and instantly he held onto your waist pulling you deeper against him. His other hand cradled the side of your face daring to curve along the shape of your skull. "I mean it. Yes I fucking mean it," he answered against the kiss; breath stealing yours away until it left you in a little moan.
You pulled him inside and shut the door, locking it. You moaned as he nipped and bit at your neck. Your heart thumped wildly. He sucked at the sensitive skin, again and again, pulling away just before leaving a mark. "God, Aem,” you whimpered. Goosebumps covered your body. The only thing on your mind was him.
"Fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much." His hands were somehow all over you all at once. His mouth trailed, and dragged, and kissed over any exposed portion of your skin. He happily pulled off layers of your clothing to expose more and more of your soft, warm, saccharine flesh; intoxicating him. After weeks of your separation the last thing he wanted to do was to push too far too fast.  “Can I take this off?” He asked before taking your shirt off.
“Yes,” you replied breathily. “Fuck it. Take all of it off. I missed you too. So much,” you said as you helped pull his clothes off, too. He pushed you against a wall. You kissed. Heavier, and hotter, and hungrier. You pushed him against a wall. 
He gasped as he smirked. “I love when you act all tough when we both know I can have you squirming under me in minutes,” he growled, pupil swelling. The dimples at the very corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement, however, as he once again pushed you against the wall. You were both only in your underwear, now, and his lean body on yours had you aching. “My tough girl… how quickly do you think it’ll last when my fingers are in you?”
“Why don’t we find out?” You asked defiantly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t last long at all. By now you were both down the hallway and your bedroom was only a couple feet away. You needed him. Now. And judging by how fucking hard he was he needed you too.
The next moment went by in a blur and before you could catch yourself you were sprawled out on your back atop your bed. Aemond made quick work of moving you both inside, and made quicker work of pulling your panties down. He groaned as your thighs immediately spilled open for him. He dragged two fingers up your slit and circled your clit with your arousal. “Shit–,” he hissed. “Never make me wait so long to have this pussy again. Do you understand me? Never,” he said as he worked your already swollen clit. He played with it just how he knew you liked it and your cunt’s tiny wet sounds sent his cock throbbing. “Answer me.”
Tension built in the low muscles of your belly. Your legs began to tighten already – one of the tell-tale signs of your approaching climax. How the hell could he push you there so quickly? “N-never! Ahh-h never again!” You replied, voice light, and sweet, and tantalizing as any sin Aemond ever knew. “Please, Aemond, I want to cum…!”
He shoved those same two fingers into you. “Good girl,” he said as he curled those fingers. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine. Give it to me,” he said huskily as he worked them in and out of you. It was sloppy and wet. Borderline obscene. Each time he slammed his hand against you he was mindful to press the heel of his palm against your clit and your mound, knowing how the extra pressure sent your pretty toes curling.
You cried out his name as your eyes clenched shut. The tension in your belly snapped and a wave of glorious bliss washed over you. Sweat sheened between your breasts and along your lip. You arched, quivered, shuddering in the aftermath of his intensity. 
Aemond’s mouth crashed to yours and you threaded your fingers through the roots of his hair. It was still in a ponytail and you had no mind to take it out, you just had to pull him deeper into the kiss. He tasted the salt of your sweat and groaned. “Relax your pussy, baby, you’re clenching me really hard. It feels amazing but I don’t wanna hurt you pulling out,” he said tenderly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.
“Sorry,” you giggled. “Just feels too good.” You tried to steady your breath and relax as he laid beside you, continuing to kiss your neck and shoulders. When your spongy walls finally eased around him you were sad to feel him withdraw. Stress melted away from your subconscious and you wanted to thank him for the pleasure. You wondered if your eyes said it while he looked at you.
Leaning up, he discarded the final piece of his clothing and sighed in relief as his cock sprang free. He got between your thighs and looked down at you hungerily. “Look at you all doe eyed already. See? I knew you couldn’t stay tough for long,” he said, smug, as he lined up with your drenched cunt. He held one of your legs up against him, and you pressed the other against his side. 
When you left for the store this morning you had no idea your afternoon would go in this direction.
He pushed into you. Inch by inch he sunk into you and soon he was as deep as he could be. A moan escaped both of you, and a throatier one left him when his free hand tugged at your bra. It was one that clipped in the front. He popped it open and rocked into you as soon as your tits spilled free. "You're so sexy like this."
With your body already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now with Aemond building a rhythm between your thighs, you weren't going to last long. "You feel so good," you purred, eyelids heavy. "Fuck I missed you."
Another sound left his chest and when you wrapped your legs around his slim waist you swore you felt goosebumps pebble all along his skin. Or, maybe those were your goosebumps on your legs. Whatever the case, Aemond leaned forward and kissed you again. "I missed you too," he rumbled. "Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum again?"
You two made good use of your birth control and you weren't about to deny him – or yourself – the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked and stuffed. "Y-yeah," you stammered, smiling.
Aemond mumbled something incoherent into your neck, and if your brain wasn't foggy from his perfect fucking cock you might have caught what he said. 
He leaned up and supported himself on his forearms, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're my girl. You're my fucking girl. You're my fucking girl," he repeated again and again until the pace of his thrusts grew sloppy. Somehow the sloppiness of it, the neediness and urgency of his voice, sent emotion swelling in all of you.
Heat collected and grew out from your spine, webbing throughout your entire body. You clung to him desperately. You rolled your hips up into him and shamelessly grinded your clit against his pelvis as he drove in and out of you. It was all too much. You crumbled beneath him and let orgasm take control of you. The depths of your body squeezed and convulsed around him, holding him tight and soaking the fullness of his length with your slick. He never stopped or paused his thrusts. 
His own peak followed. Once he was as deep as he could be he released everything he had into you. He stayed there, both of you panting through little moans, until he no longer twitched between your stretched walls. Slowly, he pulled out, and slowly, his seed dribbled out of you. Grinning, he rolled onto his back and scooped you against him.
"Let's stay here like this all day," you mumbled happily, fingertips trailing up and down his abdomen and chest.
"You'll get no argument from me," he said.
Quiet minutes passed and the sound of his heart nearly put you into a trance. "I'm sorry for how I acted," you finally admitted.
All the while he'd been petting and trailing his fingers through your hair. He didn't stop as he answered, "and I'm sorry for not trying harder." He kissed your forehead and held you tighter.
"Let's try it again. For real this time. With the titles and commitment and everything."
"Are you asking or telling me to be your boyfriend?"
You smirked. "I'm suggesting."
Returning your smirk, he pulled you atop him so you could straddle him. "You're all mine," he said with a dark eye. "My perfect girl." 
Leaning down, you kissed and nipped his bottom lip. "Are you already hard again, Aemond Targaryen?"
A chuckle rumbled somewhere in his chest as his touch dented into your hips to hold you at just the right angle. With a roll of his hips he pushed himself up inside you again. "Whose cock is this?"
You gasped, eyes darkening with another round of lust. "Mine."
"That's right. Yours. Not anyone else's. It's fucking yours."
You rode him until your tits were covered in fresh hickies and you were filled with another load of him.
Yours. His. The second chance you both needed.
-
Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥
To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!
Masterlist
Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @dreamsofoldvalyria @chompchompluke @fan-goddess
Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @sahvlren @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998 @evermorre
756 notes · View notes
flickersprout · 10 months
Text
(Full disclosure, I am mostly a team bolas purgatory viewer) but I'm thinking about how compelling qTubbo's story in purgatory has been, and the narrative potentials once we're done here on Friday/Saturday.
He's the official captain of team soulfire, but in practice he shares his authority with Bad and Tina. He's the youngest and smallest of this trio, and idk about Tina but Bad at least is definitely more ruthless than Tubbo. Besides this, the rest of the team keep threatening a coup against Tubbo and generally being dissatisfied with his leadership calls. He carries the mark by his name and the title, but the chain of command is unclear. You can see how it might start to grate on him.
Soulfire as a whole generally looks advantaged and like a favorite to win the event. They're technically competent, determined, and have some real predators (and some luck) on their side. But it's a struggle, actually. It's harder than it looks. They keep losing to Bolas, somehow. People on both other teams (before Green Ninja's elimination) held grudges against them. A lot of the time, this looked like Tubbo getting blamed and punished for other people's (cough cough Bad's) actions. Again, you can see how it might get frustrating.
Add to that the lingering plot thread of Fred. Tubbo's fallen hard for a Federation worker and is starting to disagree with some of the loudest voices on the island about the value of the Federation. With Fred's kidnapping and the murders of Fed workers, Tubbo's learning that he can only trust his fellow islanders if he agrees with them--and he cares about Fred too much to go back to agreeing with them. And now, on purgatory, maybe that's starting to shift into the idea that he can't trust anyone. Maybe he's getting a glimpse of how his friends will act if he keeps aligning himself with Fred.
You might see where this is going: a growing distance between Tubbo and the other islanders, a new frustration and fear about trying to lead and being misinterpreted, awareness of the need to protect himself against his loved ones. The knowledge that he can't protect himself, and certainly couldn't protect both himself and Fred--he needs to find something to keep them both safe.
You know what group offers protection from the islanders, a degree of intimidation, a clear command structure and expectations, and the resources to ensure Fred's safety? That imposes order, at whatever cost, on a confusing and chaotic world? That would be thrilled that Tubbo is now willing to follow their rules and engage with them?
Yeah. I hope purgatory pushes Tubbo into the waiting arms of the Federation.
71 notes · View notes
Text
Crowley and Beelzebub Talk
Thoughts on 1.13: Crowley and Beelzebub talk
Tumblr media
I feel so badly for Crowley that his “precious, peaceful, fragile existence” cannot be.  It’s interesting to contrast Heaven and Hell’s approaches to Aziraphale and Crowley, both as workers and later as retired/traitors.
Heaven treats Aziraphale’s bookshop with the same apathy that they do other earthly possessions (and beings.)  First, in the 1800 deleted scene, they almost take it away from Aziraphale, and even when they decide not to, it is never treated as an important matter.  Second, though Shadwell definitely plays a role in it, the bookshop fire would have been preventable if not for Heaven / Metatron insisting on leaving the portal open.  Following the fire, the bookshop is returned to Aziraphale (this time by Adam / earthly intervention), and what Aziraphale temporarily lost is never addressed as important.  
Both of these incidents dovetail nicely with Heaven’s approach of killing Job’s three children, then expecting gratitude after they “make it better” by giving him seven new children.  Heaven is careless with what Aziraphale values most and dismisses the importance that he chooses to place on things and people, but generally does not seek to destroy things for the purpose of tormenting Aziraphale.  Instead, they’re cruel through callousness. 
Tumblr media
On the other hand, we see Hell actively work to violate Crowley’s boundaries and intentionally (mis)use his possessions to hurt him.  In Season 1, there’s the orders from Satan; Hastur and Ligur’s invasion of his flat; and Hastur’s appearance in the Bentley and removal of Crowley’s sunglasses.  In Season 2, we learn that Hell has continued this pattern into Crowley’s “retirement.”  Despite Crowley being “persona non grata,” Hell repossesses his flat, and Beelzebub begins their conversation by appearing in the Bentley.  
For me, just the presence of another demon in the Bentley was very unsettling and felt much more dangerous than Crowley’s earlier talks with Shax in the park and on the street.  I also feel like it was a definite power play by Beelzebub – them making a point – given that they clearly have the ability to “call” Crowley to Hell.  The fly that flew inside of Crowley’s mouth also felt like an invasion, especially since one of Crowley’s main strategies for staying safe is through quick-talking. 
Tumblr media
Lastly, there were several phrases that Beelzebub used which I really enjoyed. 
(1) “What if I said Hell was willing to forget everything you did, that we were willing to accept you back, no questions asked with a hefty promotion?” is fantastic! Partly because it demonstrates Hell/demons’ knowledge that having past misbehavior “forgotten” is generally worth more than any token “forgiveness.”  It also completely avoids the word “forgiveness,” while clearly offering more absolution than Heaven tends to offer (at least to demons. Consider: “Unforgivable, that’s what I am.”)  And thirdly, this is what Metatron offers Aziraphale at the end of the season, except that Aziraphale - for whatever reason(s) - accepts the offer!  
(2) “[Y]ou find Gabriel for me and you can have whatever your nasty little heart desires” is also a great line because during my first watch, my instinctive reaction was that Beelzebub can no longer offer Crowley anything that he really wants.  His heart only desires a certain angel and perhaps select Earthly pleasures.  On rewatch, however, the line was even better because while Beelzebub can’t give Crowley whatever his nasty little heart desires, Crowley theoretically could have given Beelzebub whatever their nasty little heart desires - Gabriel! 
(3) “So, if you hear anything, come to me first, yeah?” is a fun line because we know that Crowley will not come to Beelzebub first.  Even though Crowley has just argued with Aziraphale over helping Jim/Gabriel and stormed out of the bookshop, we as the audience have no doubt that Crowley will go to Aziraphale first with any important information. (At least, until he doesn’t…)  Despite the accompanying frustration, Crowley is committed to their side, and that commitment is obvious to both the audience and to Crowley himself.
(previous) (next)
59 notes · View notes
Text
okay none of this is new information but as usual i am thinking about gorrik and arenanet just. really never considered the timeline of his life and the implications of that at all, huh
like, okay, for eod you needed him to have a relationship to ankka and you needed ankka to have connections to the aetherblades, so you threw them both in thaumanova, fine
except. thaumanova. which blew up in 1324.
and no, we don't have a canon age for gorrik. but we know taimi's age, that she was friends with blish, and that blish is older than gorrik
now. taimi didn't know that the brothers had joined the inquest. which means either they'd kept it a secret from her, or more likely, it happened after they lost touch
taimi was born in 1313, meaning that the absolute oldest she could have been when she last saw them, is ten
now sure, taimi skipped a couple years, she's a prodigy even among asura - but age really matters when you're in single digits. for blish to be a friend, rather than a mentor, he can't be much older than maybe four years above her? i'd put that as the reasonable upper limit, they could be closer
(i'd also honestly guess that gorrik is a bit younger than taimi, given a) how much he looks up to blish, and b) that taimi prior to s4 only thought of him as blish's weird little brother, they weren't friends. and again, at that young, age matters - if you're 7, your friend is 10, and his little brother is 8 or 9, your first connection to him is probably not "oh, the little brother", because he's not little to you)
but assuming im wrong on all of that, just going back to our facts, that puts gorrik at the most about 2-3 years older than taimi
which means that the age we're looking at, for joining the inquest, thaumanova, all the stuff with ankka... he was somewhere between 9 and 13. could be even younger but im giving him the benefit of the doubt
gorrik says he never thought about ankka romantically and i believe him, but if there was ever anything there from her side, it was definitely a kiddie's first crush kinda thing, like oh we are a boy and a girl who are best friends clearly this is what romance means
because both of them were so fucking young
god knows spending her teenage years in the aetherblades was not great for ankka's everything, and by the time we find gorrik and blish in bug in the system, they've been working for the inquest for at least 8 years
that's almost half his life, at that point. working for an organisation that the thaumanova fractal and rata primus make incredibly clear does not value the lives of its workers in any way at all - they'll feed you to their latest experiment just for standing there, and gorrik wasn't just keeping his head down and going along with it, gorrik was actively sabotaging their research when he morally disagreed with it
(and this isn't even getting into why they joined the inquest in the first place, which i will bet anything i own on being because of blish's illness and needing the technology to save him)
and to their credit, i do think this comes across in bug in the system! because if you go back to early gorrik, first half of s4, having played through the rest of the story? the difference is shocking, like he is so distrusting and snide and defensive as hell of his brother, he talks like he expects you to attack him or blish at any moment
but then they never do anything with that ever again, and like, i love all the new gorrik content, genuinely i do, but arenanet there are layers to this character that you have entirely forgotten about, and god i wish we had a story that actually explored that
34 notes · View notes
heavensmtl · 5 months
Text
TNGDH 41
As soon as I arrived in the village, I stopped at a merchant, and had him carefully package the goods and money, and had them sent to the nearby imperial palace.
I was tempted to put a bribe on it so that the top worker would come to me, but I knew I'd be too tired if I ran into Kyle, so I did the next best thing.
[The top of the castanets is responsible for moving items to each point. Find the item at the desired location!]
Thanks to the system's guidance, I didn't lose the money that Kyle had so generously given me. I don't want to waste his hard-earned money, even if I pretend it's not a penny or two.
‘By the way, this is what they do at the top.’
It’s just like a delivery service.
Afterwards, as I wandered around diligently, the ‘loading’ time came to an end. Now that I’m here, I’m reminded that time really is money.
-Squeak.
The replica hamster I had left behind was running out of time. As I watched another Cashew Nut disappear like melting snow, fatigue washed over me like a flood, and I fainted and fell asleep.
How much time has passed since then?
When I opened my eyes, I was on a rickety carriage. Since the surroundings were dark, I thought they had covered it with a black cloth…
-Squeak. (Ugh.)
Crazy motion sickness.
As I leaned against the wall and retched, what I thought was black cloth moved. It appeared that Kyle was hugging the hamster house while sitting in the carriage.
“Are you ok, Cashew?”
-Squeak…(Does it look like I’m ok?...)
“Do you get motion sickness too? You seemed fine when I was holding you. Anyway, this thing also resembles Shu.”
What can I do? It’s the same guy inside.
Kyle reached into the hamster house. I figured it was better than being inside the hard house, so I jumped into his palm.
Although his hand had a lot of calluses, it still felt warm and soft.
‘It’s definitely better.’
I curled up into a ball and closed my eyes.
The grand duke won’t be able to hold a hamster all the time until he arrives at the imperial palace, so he should get enough sleep now that it’s lying in his palm.
Rattle, rattle, rattle.
The carriage shook. Those were the days of moving from the north to the south, from winter to spring.
By the time I arrived at the Imperial Palace, to my surprise, I had a miracle value of nearly 30%.
-Squeak. (Is this really happening?)
“Don’t worry too much, Cashew Nut. They value their lives so they will never bandit again.”
-Squeak. (I guess so.)
The story goes like this.
On our way to the palace, we passed through several villages, but one village in particular had an ugly atmosphere.
When I questioned the soldiers, they said that recent incidents of bandits rampaging through the streets, engaging in mischief and extorting money and valuables have been happening frequently.
Unfortunately, it was a small village between two estates and was poor, so no one could help. To make matters worse, the bandits’ tyranny became more severe day by day as there was nothing left to steal.
As a result of this situation, the village people naturally became less welcoming to outsiders.
They didn’t have enough food to share with others, and they were tired of bandits trying to get help from outsiders.
And when Kyle learned the circumstances, he solved all the problems at once and clearly.
With his fist.
“This is the fastest way to the imperial palace, but shouldn’t Shu have to face trouble on the way down?”
-Squeak. (I am here.)
Literally. Kyle took down a group of bandits who were swarming the village with a single fist… 
The bandits, who had been beaten just enough not to die, gave Kyle all the wealth they had stolen and fled to the mountains.
I heard that it was very unpleasant to see it groveling after threatening that it would not be left alone when it came back to the village, but unfortunately, I was in a hamster house, so that was all I could hear.
Well, they didn't have to kill me anyway. Honestly, they were stealing and murdering, so what's the point in killing them?
“They thought I was helping them”
-Squeak. (Illusions are free.)
He seems worried even though he gave me so much money. Well, if I heard that there were people stealing money everywhere, I would be concerned.
Anyway, it was a good thing one way or another.
The townspeople are safer, Kyle has less to worry about, and I get a miracle value boost from something that didn't happen in the original book.
I didn’t know much about Kyle Jane Meinhardt, but it seems he was quite feared outside of the Blake estate.
I don't know what kind of trouble he got into when he was kicked out of the Imperial Palace and went north, but....... It's no wonder that the miracle numbers were so high, as fear turned to awe and word of mouth began to spread.
Moreover, the way he carefully prepared food for his hamster whenever he stopped by  the inn seemed to have created a rumor that he was a warm and just person toward small animals and the poor.
“It’s warming up a lot, so get some air.”
Kyle threw the carriage window wide open. I snuggled up against the grate of the hamster house and sniffed.
The breeze, which had grown warmer as we traveled south, began to waft with the scent of flowers as we neared the Imperial Palace. Spring was said to arrive quickly in the Meinhardt Empire, and even in March, the flowers were already in full bloom.
An engagement during the blooming season, how nice.
Though it doesn't have much of a romantic feel to it, given the opposition.
"Are you bored?"
Kyle suddenly asked sweetly. I kicked him hard on the lips as he tried to kiss me.
Of course I am, man. I haven’t been able to use ‘Summon’ for several days now, so I’m just being a hamster. If this goes on, I will forget that I was ever human.
"When I was holding him, he was so quiet the whole time, no whining......."
Whining? Don’t use such cute words. Do you know how old I am?
"Don't worry, he'll be back in a few days. Five days? No, he's a diligent guy, maybe four days."
Even if Kyle's guess is correct and he's as diligent as he pretends to be, it'll take him four days to catch....... This means that I have to live with this disgusting, 100% pure rat for three more days. 
‘...... I’m sick of it, I’m sick of it’
As I was grumbling excitedly, the carriage slowly came to a stop. Finally, I arrived at the long-awaited destination.
I stuck my head out the window.
Pure white bricks line a street big enough for a carriage or two, and gardens full of spring flowers line the street.
There were lights and structures here and there, and they seemed to have been spread with gold, so they sparkled brightly in the sun.
‘It’s like a royal castle.’
It’s too flashy to be too flashy.
Of course, the most eye-catching of them all was the imperial palace, more opulent than any fairy-tale palace I had ever seen in my life.
Although the palace was not small, its majesty was truly unique as it was the palace of the imperial family.
‘It’s too far to see from here’
Let’s go, me too.
I quickly grabbed Kyle’s fingers with both hands and hung on. Don’t put it in the hamster house, put it in your palm and go. It might be a bit painful, but …… It’s frustrating!
“Okay, let’s go together.”
Kyle looked at me as if he was dying of cuteness and then gently held me in his hand.
Fortunately, there were a lot of people waiting outside , so instead of kissing or hugging me, he put me in the front pocket of his jacket with very careful hands.
I stuck my head out and looked around.
“Meeting Archduchess Blake”
Sen came out in person, leading the maids.
She was always neat and tidy, but in her flowing dress, she looked like a young lady of some noble family.
Her brown hair was tied up in a high ponytail, and when Sen lifted the hem of her skirt and bowed her head in acknowledgment, Kyle did the same.
“Thank you for your hospitality.”
“It’s been a long time, Your Highness.”
“Indeed.”
Kyle’s expression softened.
“How are you?”
Sen replied with a small smile.
“How many people are there who don’t get along well in the imperial palace? It’s a place where everything is abundant.”
Sens' expression as she said that was so calm that it gave off a cool vibe rather than warm happiness. 
Kyle shrugged his shoulders instead of answering, as if he understood. Is it because he had a bad time in the imperial palace and was kicked out into the cold?
“Well, it was more than I thought.”
Sen covered her mouth with an expression of regret and quickly apologized.
“Sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
There was an awkward silence for a moment. Sen must have seen me while lightly rubbing the back of her neck with her fingertips, and she smiled slightly with an expression that I recognized.
“Did you also bring Cashew Nut?”
“I think I need to get a medical examination from the palace’s magicians.”
“Oh my, where does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“Then that’s a relief. What about Shu?”
She looked around. She must have expected me to accompany them, but when she saw that I wasn't among those unloading the carriage, she seemed a little disappointed.
“He decided to stop by his hometown. He will arrive in a few days. It would be nice if you could set up a room for him next to mine.”
"I've already done that. Cashew still needs a place to stay....... I'll have it ready by tomorrow, don't worry."
“Okay. Please.”
Afterwards, Sen headed into the castle with calm steps.
The skill of showing people around a room or asking the maids to do something was unusual. The maids didn’t seem to have any difficulty with Sen either.
‘You’ve adapted quickly.’
Well, she’s a smart girl, so that’s to be expected.
We parted ways with Sen and entered the room that had been prepared for us.
The lavish furnishings and panoramic view were quite the opposite of what I'm used to in the north. Maybe it was because I had become accustomed to the North, but it felt like I was in a foreign country.
Should I say it is more delicate and sophisticated? It's amazing. It's also somewhat strange that there is no snow outside the window.
“You must have had a hard time coming, so eat some of this first.”
Kyle set me down on a neatly folded handkerchief and rummaged through his bag. Sunflower seeds, roasted peanuts, pollack cubes, shredded duck meat… … . No, did you bring all this?
As I was eating this and that, a hand continued to stroke my forehead and spine. It’s burdensome, you guy.
Still, I was afraid to get used to it, but I didn't have the heart to refuse. His affection, expressed with his whole body, seemed to have become second nature.
When I looked up at him with a full stomach, he scooped me up and kissed me on the forehead about five times before setting me down in the center of the bed.
"You sleep here tonight. We'll have what you need tomorrow morning."
-Squeak. (It doesn’t matter to me because I’m a bed type.)
Should I ask for a hamster bed or something?  He doesn't have to share a bed this big, and it's only about the size of his palm.......
‘Wait a minute.’
Why do I have this bed to myself?
Crash.
Kyle unsheathed his sword from his back and drew it close. There was a creak of armor, and then...... he was sitting on the bed with his back to me, still holding the sword.
He's going to sleep like that? Really?
"Sleep well."
He spoke quietly and closed his eyes.
-......
I looked at him with a slightly confused gaze as he slept motionlessly.
I know. 
Kyle doesn't trust anyone here. This is the place where his mother was tragically killed and he was driven out to the cold land as a child. Not only was his life threatened, but he must have overcome many dangers of death.
Because of those countless memories, he is no longer as weak as he was then, and even though no one can treat him carelessly, he cannot relax.
Because things engraved in one’s mind eat away at a person longer than one might think. Even if you think you've overcome everything, I know very well that memories are what come to mind without you knowing. So sick of it.
'… … I can't wait to come back.'
I wanted to be by his side, not as a Cashew, but as a Shu, so he wouldn't feel alone, at least not in this vast palace.
I stared at Kyle’s cold, hard, and lonely face for a long time and then closed my eyes. I prayed that time would pass a little faster.
-----------------------
Caelum's Note
Ahh sorry if translations are off or if the grammar is kind of funky. 。゚・ (>﹏<) ・゚。 This is my first time doing this and I currently have no proofreader and am translating late at night. Please dm me if there is anything that needs to be fixed. Hope you enjoyed the read! (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)
Previous / Index / Next
9 notes · View notes
rockngyrroser · 1 year
Text
therapy of the strongest sorcerer. part 2.
PART 2
"I can tell you what bothers me but... it can be harder to deal with it than you could imagine. i need to explain some weird things to you and you probably won't understand-" he said it with such a regret and sadness in his voice.
"i know that  your company said something about different world  when they were talking with me about your sessions, before you get to know that you even will be coming here every week. but explain it to me if you can, gojo-san."
"at first, can you call me gojo-kun? 'san' feels cold, sorry." he looked like a kid now.
"yea, gojo-kun, you better call me (l/n)-san, maybe someday i'll let you call me (l/n)-chan. but.. we'll see. you have problems with trusting others?"
"i think.. maybe? i trust a group of people in my life, but i never tried to trust somebody else. just people who will be by my side for longer time and i know it. i never trusted anybody who would be like my friend for one day..  i can't somehow."
"but still you seem opened, even if you don't trust them, maybe acting? is this a way to escape it?"
"i don't really care about how people see me. i think.. i am important. so they have to respect me." he looked at your notes and then he looked at you, this was the first time when you noticed how blue his eyes are.
"that's bold statement, you know, gojo-kun? it's not like you have a good position in your work so they have to respect you no matter what. maybe as a worker, yes, but as a human? nah.. they definitely don't have to.."
"so how will you change my mind?"
"you want me to? i can, but if you don't want to, this doesn't make any sense." challenging him was the best method to make him take some actions.
"i'll let you change my perspective, if this will be satisfying enough for me, i'll change it in my life."
you looked at him. it was little victory of yours if he would do as he said.
"you sure?" you asked with smile.
"don't trust me? huh?" he said playfully.
"oh, gojo-kun, finally! i'm happy you're like that." you looked at him after you said it and you could see that his cheeks were a little blushed.
"we'll you see..." you started explaining to him that he should look at himself as a person, but with roles in society. he is not only worker, but also a friend, family member etc. you said to him that he has to look at himself in those parts, how he acts towards people in every role, because this is how they see him - through his actions.
"gojo-kun, you have to understand, that some guy on the street will see you as a some random person. maybe he'll forget about you in 5 minutes, but... i don't think so as long as you have white hair and sky blue eyes. you stand out, but i consider it as something good, but that's just my personal opinion." you could see him blush again. it looked like nobody ever gave him personal compliments, but this guy could be like that.. he definitely look like someone who has a bunch of woman in his house. "tell me how do you understand my words."
"that i should be working for my public opinion in every social role that i have, and it all will be my person figure in public. like.. hm.. my actions in every sector of my life will equal my real value. if i'll show respect to other people, they will be showing respect towards me?"
"yea! this is it!" you cheered him. "it feels like you want to be more respected than others respect you, but i think we will talk about it on our next session. it is long topic, so i'll prepare myself more for this."
"oh, it is like a homework for you, isn't it?" he asked.
"maybe? hm.. it is. but your homework will be start treating others with respect."
"okay, just for one week, but if it won't work.. i'll stop."
"oh my god.. i hope the luck will be there with us" you sighed.
"you should be more optimistic, (l/n)-san"
"i already am!" you laughed. it was really different. session with gojo satoru made you laugh and you felt now like sunshine is in your soul.
"our session time is over now, you are free, satoru gojo!"
"yeeaah! freedom!" he laughed. "see you next week then!" he said and left you in your office.
33 notes · View notes
fredbydawn · 8 months
Note
You think Jigsaw was pro life?
This is a very interesting question that I find myself thinking about very often. Putting under a read more, cuz this is gonna be a long ass ramble
Full disclosure, I am pro-choice and have had an abortion, so my takes are obviously going to be influenced by that
I think about this a lot cuz there’s the popular question of “would you survive a Saw trap?” and my smart ass response has usually been “I don’t have to worry about it cuz I haven’t done anything worth putting me in a trap” but then I remember that I did in fact have an abortion so I gotta be on my toes 👀 cuz that lil puppet could be anywhere
There is a line when John has Cecil in the knife chair where he says he’s doing this because Cecil accidentally injured Jill and caused her to miscarry. But he words this as Cecil “killing an innocent child” (or something to that effect, I don’t have the exact words in front of me) and I think he doesn’t even mention Jill. Seeing the life of an unborn child as more important the health and safety of his literal wife seems very pro-life to me. That being said, I’m not totally sure whether or not John would put someone in a trap for having an abortion, nor am I sure he would stop a trap if he found out the person in it was pregnant (and therefore place the life of the fetus on the same or greater level than the pregnant person).
Like John’s philosophy is so interesting to me particularly because of how hypocritical he can be sometimes. Cause like his whole thing is “value your life” not necessarily to value life itself, and to prove that you value your life his tests will sometimes require you to harm or even kill another person, who sometimes hasn’t even done anything particularly heinous (i.e. Lawrence being tasked with killing Adam (who I fully believe was not intended to survive), or Zepp being tasked to kill Allison and her young daughter Diana (who fully didn’t do anything). So in that way I could see John potentially seeing someone getting an abortion as a way for them to take control of their life, particularly if they were pregnant by sexual assault.
But then again, John seems to have very little sympathy for people doing “bad” things due to the circumstances they find themselves in. I think there’s a conversation between him and Amanda in X where’s she’s basically like “hey, man, maybe these people are doing these things that they know are wrong and feel bad about because they have no other way to make money and survive?” and John’s just like “nah, miss me with that gay shit” so idk 🤷🏻‍♂️
There’s also a whole thing about how some of the larger games almost operate on a Silent Hill kinda level, where you’re facing the guilt that you have surrounding an event (such as Jeff’s game from III) and you’re made to confront the ways you’ve been punishing yourself. So while it feels almost like going down a supernatural route where we believe that John somehow has a way to assess how much something weighs on your psyche, I feel like if someone didn’t feel guilty about getting an abortion (which, most people don’t obvs) then they wouldn’t be put in a trap.
In general, I feel like the politics of the Jigsaw killer(s) is a rich and complicated vein of character interpretation. In the beginning there’s definitely a conservative vibe, people being put into traps because they’re sex workers, drug addicts, mentally ill, etc. But when we get to VI it starts to get a bit more capital l Liberal with corrupt insurance company employees being put in traps. But even still, like I said, preserving your life is considered the sign of success and there are very few traps where sacrificing yourself for another person is even an explicit option, let alone considered the “right choice.” So there’s that to think about, I guess.
Long an short of it, in my opinion;
John: still on the fence on whether he’d put someone in a trap for having an abortion, but might stop the test if he found out they were pregnant, especially if they wanted to keep it
Amanda: she strikes me as pro-choice-ish around the beginning of her apprenticeship, but just generally anti-life towards the end, probably wouldn’t put someone in a trap for having an abortion, but would not stop the test if the person in it was pregnant, whether they wanted to keep it or not
Hoffman: as much as he is my thick waifu, he’s also an incredibly corrupt cop so he’s probably leaning conservative, he might put someone in a trap for having an abortion (although there’s a whole nother conversation to be had on how much Hoffman actually believes in John’s philosophy, so he just might not care enough idk), but he would not stop the test if a person in it was pregnant
Lawrence: he’s a doctor, he’s intelligent, so he wouldn’t put someone in a trap for having an abortion, but I feel like he would stop the trap if the person in it was pregnant but only if they wanted to keep it since family is probably a soft spot for him
Logan: thinking about the Jigsaw movie gives me such a fucking headache so I don’t wanna think about it too much, but he did participate in the US invasion of the Middle East and works with the police, so yeah probably conservative and pro-life
Schenk: tbh probably the most left leaning of the apprentices (although technically he’s not an official John Approved™ apprentice, but whatever) so he might be pro-choice, but honestly idk
But that’s just my 2 cents :)🏖
10 notes · View notes
lost-eternity · 10 months
Text
Hunger Games Matchup -Closed-
This is a matchup trade with @dorkofclanlavellan.
Okay I actually probably need to put some trigger warnings in this one. So without further ado...
TW: Mentions of sex trafficking, trauma, implications of pedophilia, and unhealthy coping mechanisms. 
Tumblr media
•──⋅☾FINNICK ODAIR ☽⋅──•
I won’t lie, my intentional reaction said Cinna. However, I placed that thought on the back-burner while I sifted methodically through the other characters in case I found one that I felt suited you better. And I am glad I did that, because I did find someone better. 
Finnick Odair. 
Initial characterization of Finnick exemplifies him as a careless casanova, infamous for his routine and seemingly habitual trysts every time he visits the Capitol. And for most of the book, that is all that is known of him. Flirtatious, shallow, flighty, definitely not someone I think you would keep in company of. 
However, later on it is revealed that Finnick’s womanizing, ego-centric tendencies are a defense mechanism installed to protect himself from the emotional turmoil of the role of sex worker forced upon him by President Snow to appease influential Capitol women. Mind you, he was fourteen. The horrors of his circumstances cannot be understated. 
Beneath his philandering veneer, he is someone who is deeply wounded, accustomed to being used for his body, and craves genuine human connection and conversation. He needs someone who appreciates him for him, and not just the physical pleasures he can give them. Bro literally just wants to be seen as a human being instead of a sex object for the first time in his adult life and I do not blame him. 
I believe this is where his relationship with Annie comes into play. She was someone who was deeply empathetic, intelligent, and intuitive. Someone who saw Finnick for who he really was. Possibly the only person who saw him as such. And based on your description of yourself, I believe you would fill his role beautifully. 
You see, you aren’t just smart. You are observant. While I still feel as though initial impressions of Finnick would be lacking at best and straight up antagonistic at worst, I think that with the more time you spend around him, the more you’d be able to see flickers of something deeper beneath his facade. 
And I think you’d be the only person to see and understand this. I think your skeptical nature would feed into this as well. You would refuse to accept that he is as hollow-minded and shallow as he presents himself to be. 
The way his easy-going smile falters whenever he thinks no one is looking. The mild contortion of his facial features into a brief pained expression when someone insults his promiscuity. This wincing lasting mere milliseconds before it is completely replaced by a lackadaisical smile and a casual shrug. The way his shoulders sag, as is burdened by heavy emotional weight when he thinks that no one else is around. The strained sighs he emits whenever he feels as though no one is listening- as though no one is paying attention. The way rigidity spreads into the muscles along his back and shoulders whenever President Snow’s name is so much as mentioned. 
No, there is definitely more going on here. And given your quiet, analytical, and observant nature, I think you would definitely notice. I also think that you would wish to pursue this deeper, if only because you touched on how much your value deep connection. 
Once you and Finnick start talking, I think he would be hooked. And I think he would open up to you much faster than normally would, perhaps to his own chagrin. You are so full of life and compassion. The way your eyes light up when you start to infodump on your favorite subjects. You are different. You don’t see him as an object. You aren’t cowed by his flirtations and attempts to keep you at an arm’s length. You genuinely just want to get to know him. The two of you would have such meaningful conversations, skipping over idle chatter and frivolous small talk entirely because that is just the kind of person you are. 
And just like that,  it would be over for the poor man. 
You represent every single thing he has lacked in life: genuine connection, empathy, and companionship. 
You would become his new Annie (assuming in this scenario, Annie was either killed in her games or lost herself to the point of no return).
Finnick would not be super receptive to your self-deprecating sense of humor, wishing you could see the beauty he sees in you. I think he would call you out on it and make some flirtatious comment sultry enough to make even the most stoic blush. He doesn’t know what else to do so he defaults to his usual tactics of flattery. Although, this time it’s different. This time he actually means it. He’s just genuinely trying to help. 
“My dear, if it is beauty you seek, you need not look further than a mirror.”
~
“I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this before,” Finnick would fix you with a level-gaze, his seafoam green eyes unwavering and uncharacteristically serious, “but you are very attractive.” 
You could attempt to retaliate, uttering something along the lines of “you aren’t too unattractive yourself.” To which he would merely laugh, his broad shoulders shaking under the exertion of the momentum.
He’d flash you one of those smug grins of his. “Oh. I know.” 
~
Freaking Finnick. 
Perhaps you were from District Four and met him briefly before his games, then were forced to reconcile with the stark juxtaposition to the boy he was prior to the man he ultimately became. 
Or Perhaps you were a victor from a previous Game who met him during the Quarter Quell and saw something in him no one else could, only to be wrapped up in the rebellion’s plot.
Either way, I do think it would be good news for you. 
If you were a fellow Victor rescued by the rebels, perhaps you would have a chance at saving Finnick, or maybe it would lead to you sacrificing yourself in his stead. 
If you were the “special someone back home”, the Capitol would likely kidnap and torture you for leverage over Finnick as they did Annie. Finnick would likely still perish, spending his last breath viciously attempting to rescue you.
But either way, I think this would be a huge point of contention in your relationship. Finnick absolutely would NOT accept you going with him to infiltrate the Capitol with the Mockingjay. I’ll let whether or not you end up listening to him be up to you. 
As often it goes with the Hunger Games, I believe that this story is likely to end in tragedy. Although, it is not without a small chance of hope. Maybe you can act differently, maybe you can be the person to provide Finnick with the happy ending he deserved but was ultimately denied. 
Tumblr media
8 notes · View notes
Text
2023 Movie Journey #8: The Menu
Tumblr media
the menu. i’m glad i decided to watch this one. it wasn’t originally on my list, because i only knew ralph fiennes was in it and it’s about food--neither of those are specific draws for me. i had heard it involves class issues, it was being compared to glass onion in headlines i skimmed, so i wasn’t totally opposed to it, i just wasn’t sure either way. but then i saw john leguizamo talk about his role in an interview, and i hadn’t realized he was part of it; that made me reconsider. and then my favorite movie podcast put out an episode where they discussed m3gan--which i am desperate to get someone else’s opinion on since i saw it alone--BUT the episode also includes discussion of the menu. so i figured if i was ever planning on watching the menu, i had better do so soon, and then i’d be able to enjoy that podcast double-feature. (which now i can, yay!)
but my impression of this movie was definitely wrong, i’ll start by saying. i didn’t know it was really a horror movie--i knew there was some violence or gore, but i honestly thought for some reason that it was a movie about cannibalism, where the menu involved killing and cooking the customers. i have no idea where i got that idea, since it is not true. so now i’ve already watched more horror movies this year than i have in the last several combined, even if this one was by accident. and since i’m about to watch scream 5 (because i never did when it came out) in order to decide if i want to see scream 6 in the theater, i’m starting to reacclimate to horror and that’s a surprisingly nice feeling. in real life, i prefer to avoid violence always...but i’m okay with being desensitized to it in media because i don’t get to choose which stories include violence (so many!) and those stories can hold a lot of value for me otherwise.
anyhow, this movie really was good, and i’m not sure i have too much to say beyond that--the cast is great, from personal faves like judith light and nicholas hoult to reliable talents like ralph fiennes and anna taylor-joy. i didn’t realize before watching this that ralph fiennes is a jkr defender, so obviously that sucks, but he was hitting all the necessary levels in this--terrifying, sad, obsessive. and anna taylor-joy was another actor i didn’t even know was in this, which is pretty funny since she’s the real star. she makes an excellent final girl and as somebody who couldn’t get through the queen’s gambit i am thrilled to now know more of her work. i adore her thanks to this movie alone.
i did engage my newly-implemented horror rule of looking away when i need to--there are multiple suicides in this, for example, but most of the deaths were telegraphed well in advance so i didn’t have to see them. and because of my relationship to food, tbh there were some times when i looked away that didn’t involve any violence at all. this movie is simultaneously a love letter to food and a takedown of foodie culture, as much as it’s a takedown of wealthy restaurant customers and the way that restaurant culture destroys the workers that pour their lives into crafting food. because i’m so detached from food, i mostly enjoyed it as a well-told story rather than relating to any of it. 
i will add though that this is a fucking weird movie. that was my first immediate impression as i was watching it, so i shouldn’t just say i liked it without adding that. it is incredibly dark and twisted. but it so clearly knows what it wants to be doing that i was happily along for the ride. there’s something really enjoyable--at least for me--about a movie that’s completely committed to its premise, no matter how intense or specific (or bizarre) it may be. 
oh, also i liked the soundtrack to this one a lot. it wasn’t exactly all that special, more of the ‘classical with a modern twist’ that i love whenever i encounter it...but it made it fun for me to let the credits play to the end, because i enjoy that style of music all the time.
in conclusion, i would recommend this one if you like the cast, are interested in commentary on fine dining and the people that create it, or enjoy modern horror movies (especially ones that justify murdering the wealthy). i liked it a lot more than i thought i would.
13 notes · View notes
mmmleckerlecker · 1 year
Note
Idea:
A pred whos roommates with a prey.
The prey is just an introverted barista worker who has to put up with annoying preds who won't stop commenting on how delicious and fragile they look. The Pred on the other hand us regarded as literally the most dangerous pred in town. His ravenous appetite is not something to be messed with and he's also a cruel pred who'll often mock the prey who he's eaten in various ways, sometimes letting them almost escape before swallowing them back up to be digested.
No one knows how the prey is still alive with a roommate like this. The answer they give is always just being smart about it, arranging their shifts so they come home after he's eaten, not getting to close when he's really hungry, etc.
Now the Pred REALLY wants to eat the prey. They aren't scared of him, they value him as a friend in the loosest definition of the word, plus they look absolutely delicious and beautiful/hansome and he can clearly overpower them. One day, he waits until his darling roommate gets home to eat, so he can take them by suprise.
What no one has realized is that the 'prey' is also a pred, just one with a really hammerspace gut and a fast metabolism. The other pred learns this the hard way when he goes to get a bite and his tiny unassuming roommate just casually swallows him down instead, not even struggling in the slightest. Their roommate is big enough compared to them that you can clearly see there's someone in their stomach, so to keep their cover they take the next day off.
They aren't even actively cruel to him, they just don't acknowledge his struggles or pleas to be let out at all.
FUCK. Anon you had me in the first half!! A big bad pred who will eat you and be cruel about it, no cares. The the the… almost letting them escape only to swallow them casually back down. UGH!! YES!! And then the prey who is just… vibing. Maybe slightly annoyed at all the other preds commenting on how tasty they look. (But perhaps they don’t make any moves because they don’t wanna get on the Big Bad’s bad side by stealing his prey?) And then… oof. Arranging their shifts so they come home after the pred has eaten… imagine coming home from a long day of making lattes and your roommate is just chilling on the couch, watching tv, with a fully squirming belly…. You sit down with them, microwave dinner on your lap, and try to pay more attention to your food and the tv than your roommate idly kneading his fingers into his restless stomach. Hoo boy
Unfortunately I am not particularly into pred/prey role reversal or smaller preds/larger prey (tho the hammer space helps) so I do not have as much to say about the ending but ugh 👌 everything else
16 notes · View notes
lingshanhermit · 1 year
Text
Lingshan Hermit: The Cunning Level of Human "Ego"
In the third season of "American Crime Story," it recounts the impeachment incident of that philandering president in the American political arena at the end of the twentieth century. Unlike most, my attention, rather than being primarily on the central figure, Monica Lewinsky, was more on Clinton. I was more interested in his reactions when facing questions. When Bill Clinton was questioned by independent prosecutor Starr about the so-called "Zippergate" incident, his responses and sophistry showed us how cunning a person's "ego" can be and to what extent someone can play with words. When Independent Counsel Kenneth Starr asked Clinton if he had sexual relations with Lewinsky, Clinton showcased his strong argumentative skills, coming from his background in law. He claimed that his intimate encounters with Lewinsky, by his definition, were not sexual relations since he did not intend to pleasure her – she was the one pleasing him.
Such scenes are not unfamiliar to me. Due to my role, I often play a part similar to that of Prosecutor Starr, frequently questioning students who have erred. Typically, I do this to help them uncover their true motives and the underlying values. So, I am no stranger to such scenarios. By consistently dealing with students' "egos," I have had the chance to see how different individuals' "egos" find ways out. I know what they will say, do, how they will argue, and how they will evade. When people's "egos" are cornered, their basic reactions are mostly predictable. Only a few of the best can straightforwardly admit their mistakes, while most will dodge and weave. I recall an instance when our kitchen water purifier broke and needed repair. When it was dismantled, the worker found that it was domestically assembled, even though the person responsible for purchasing it told me it was a Korean brand. When questioned about this, after some hesitation, he claimed that the main components were from Korea, so in his mind, it was Korean.
See? This is the human "ego". When they want to "protect themselves", they can utter the most absurd justifications. Such excuses are eerily reminiscent of Bill Clinton's sophistry.
If you plan to embark on a spiritual journey, the first thing you shouldn't be doing is seeking ceremonial empowerment, studying scriptures, or immersing yourself in seemingly profound Buddhist teachings. The very first thing you need to do is to learn to be honest. If you aren't honest with yourself and your spiritual teacher, you can't even begin your spiritual journey. Because the starting point of such a journey is honesty, recognizing your state. Only by recognizing your true self can you genuinely begin. Most people live in the illusion that they are on such a path. Learning to be honest is tough; it might take decades. But if you want to walk this path, it's an essential quality. For most people, they are unlikely to learn honesty after they start or learn honesty without starting their spiritual journey. Hence, the only feasible path is to "practice" while learning to be honest.
I'm not saying you should always be honest with everyone, everywhere, and at all times. Our lives today have become incredibly complex. Sometimes, lies become a necessity for survival. However, you must know that there are certain entities and individuals to whom you mustn't lie. If you're dishonest towards the teachings, your mentors, then you are beyond redemption.
Written by Lingshan Hermit on August 13, 2023.
Copyright Notice:All copyrights of Ling Shan Hermit's articles in Simplified and Traditional Chinese, English, and other languages belong to the natural person who owns "Ling Shan Hermit". Please respect copyright. Publishers, media, or individuals (including but not limited to internet media, websites, personal spaces, Weibo, WeChat public accounts, print media) must obtain authorization from Ling Shan Hermit before use. No modifications to the articles are allowed (including: author's name, title, main text content, and punctuation marks). We reserve all legal rights.
灵山居士:人类“自我”的狡猾程度
5 notes · View notes
hughiecampbelle · 1 year
Note
hello! i would like to request a ship, if that’s okay! my name is caitlin , and i am biromantic + asexual. pronouns are she/her. i am 5’9, brown hair and brown eyes. i think the people i usually go for are the ones who can make me smile and sort of get me out of my own head- I’m a very inner-focused sort of person, so when someone actually makes me want to engage with them and can make me smile and laugh, it’s something that i really value. one of my biggest insecurities is probably my weight, im a little on the heavier side and that is something that has really hindered me mentally in the past, though i have been becoming more accepting of myself and my body recently. i love painting and reading and writing, like i would definitely say im a quality time kind of gal and would love to do these things with my partner. i also love graphic design. favorite book is this is how you lose the time war and favorite movie is howl’s moving castle. i absolutely love dogs (specifically bichons), hate spiders (and just bugs in general). i hope this is enough, thank you so much in advance!!
Tumblr media
Hi my love! I ship you with: Greg Hirsch!!!
He loves your body. He knows that you can be insecure about your body, your weight especially, but he doesn't see a single flaw. You're perfect just the way you are, and he needs you to know that. He's very touchy, very affectionate, wanting you to know that he loves every part of you, even the ones you don't particularly love or even like. He hates when you get down on yourself, when your thoughts stop you from doing something or wearing something because you don't think you should. He also loves your laugh. Greg is a pretty awkward guy, so whether or not he's trying to joke around, people genuinely laugh at him. He doesn't really mind, as long as they're happy. But you? Greg would slip on a banana peel and fall on his ass if it meant he got to hear your laugh again. It's music to his ears. The sound of your laugh, especially when it's with him or after he's made a joke, makes the blood rush to his face. He's always trying to bring you out of your shell like that.
You love his height. Greg is so tall so it makes him a bit awkward, a bit gangly. He doesn't mean to show it off so much, but he can't help it when you need a book off the highest shelf. He's more than happy to get it for you. His hugs are the best, he's all arms. You feel small and protected walking with him, enjoying the height difference. He looks great once he finds a suit that actually fits. Before, without your help, the seams ended at his ankles and wrists. With your help though, he finally has a closet full of clothes that fit.
Your relationship is funny. Greg brings you out of your shell so easily, effortlessly. In doing so, you share all your greatest loves with him. You watch your favorite movie under a blanket with a bucket of popcorn. It takes him forever, but he does read your favorite book so you can talk about it. He sends you lots of bichon puppy videos throughout the day, even when he's supposed to be hard at work. You spend a lot of time together just doing simple thing: reading, cooking, doing separate things on your phones in the same room. There's no need to fill the silence, it's a comfortable kind of quiet.
Your first date isn't actually a date. You started talking at a work event, neither of you too thrilled about the amount of people stuffed into Logan's home. You get talking about work, co-workers, the boss and his crazy family. It's there that he falls in love with your laugh, that he falls for you. You both know that it wasn't really a first date, but by the end you were both so nervous it basically felt like it.
Relationship Headcanon: Greg absolutely takes care of the spiders for you. He's not afraid of them at all. He thinks they're kinda cute, even. He usually just cups them in his hands and lets them go outside, waving goodbye to his new friend. He thinks it's cute that you're scared of them, funny, though he knows better than to hold them up to you and show them. He names them all too, assuring you that Frank and Dan and Steve would never, ever hurt you.
Hope you like it! 💜💜💜
6 notes · View notes
wytfut · 11 months
Text
Deal with what you are dealt...
A simple comment that can confuse. Everyone does this. But most likely not like anyone else or what they may think is proper.
Even people who appear not to "deal with what they are dealt" actually do. They are dealing with it.... but it isn't recognized to anyone but themselves. As in a third party would say, " why don't they do something about that"..... but they are, and you don't recognize it.
I'm one of the "odd man out" types. The way I deal with issues/items/people I'm sure is considered pretty outlandish, or "what in the world was he thinking??" Or.... (I'm giggling here) a direction that no one in his right mind would ever do. My results "maybe different"....
Some of us are very good at dealing with what we are dealt. But are the "us's" really? Is it only because its recognized and seen popular or exceptable, when the end result appears.
Most of the time I don't believe we have the right to judge how someone handled "what they were dealt". I do catch myself though, ... and wish I hadn't.
LOLOLOL..... life is most definitely not sanitary.... judging, dealing, living.
No matter. ...
Generally I'm an "up" person. An extrovert maybe too much. Accepting. As I age, some of this, or at least parts go away. Is it age, or is it me? I hope its age and I recognize it, and try to amend.
But by golly, I still deal with issues every day. Sometimes it seems I get a streak of bad decisions. But when I get it right, it makes it all worth while. Gives me a feeling of self accomplishment.
You may think I'm writing about huge issues, that approach all of us time to time. I am, but I'm also writing about petty daily house keeping issues.
A persons personal values determines which way we decide to take something.
For example:.... I'm a tightwad. At least I consider myself one. I was getting financial assistance for a medication I'm on. This year they decided I make too much money. That has now cost me more than $800/year. Its a fancy convenient medication.
But another very old one is really cheap, as in almost free. I requested my personal Dr. to change my med to the this one. He tried to talk me out of it..... as its inconvenient for him and his staff if I'm on it. I dealt with it..... now I'm on the cheap one. I'm not out for my Dr. and staff, I just had to decide what was best for me.
I think I dealt with it correctly. I'm sure some don't.
Another example, something bigger.... life changing maybe: I retired from Lincoln Hoot and Hollar with over 30 years.
With the kids out of the house, and my position at that time, money was no issue. I was actually walking around with cash in my billfold. Many would consider this WAY too young to retire from a career.
But I did indeed retire. The job be what it may, for my mindset was way too stressful. Alltel was not a Mom/Pop sort of affair. Alltel didn't know/care about me or my fellow workers. Alltel was there to make money. Careers are secondary.
Lincoln Hoot and Hollar, knew who I was, and when I needed help from them, they actually did. For example when my house burned down, many privileges happened to my advantage.
We've struggled financially since retirement. I cannot deny. But we have survived, and I'm still a pretty happy guy.
Other events happened since then and have knocked the shit out of our financials, "if only I was still working at the phone company". But..... we are still here.
My current "deal", is my back (ad nauseum) . Yes continuing on and on and on. This in turn brings other deals to my table of life. My particular example being my "rat truck" project, sitting in the steel shed with a ton of dust on it. My back will not let me tackle this project. ... I'll deal with it, but at the moment I'm empty headed for answers.
Somehow what ever I did to deal with these obstacles, worked.... well up to this time. Dominoes come to mind here, so a true time line may prove different. But then.... its evolved.... and its a "new deal" to deal with.
My inspiration to this, came today to me after watching one of my favorite movies. I was not planning to watch it, in fact I had a whole scenario of things to do today..... now postponed a couple of hours. Patti had just "had it on", and it captured me again.
2 versions of this movie are out. One English (the original). And the American version. Both versions are excellent per my rating. Both were released kind of under the radar, with not much Marketing.
"Otto"...
Boiled down, it shows me how a person struggles with the issues he is dealt, and what he thinks is the right decision/result, no matter how abstract it may appear, to keep himself comfortable.
1 note · View note
thosearentcrimes · 2 years
Text
I've interrupted my reading of Foucault, because I finally got to the line about schools, hospitals, factories, prisons all being basically like prisons. More seriously, reading Foucault is fairly difficult, especially since I'm not reading in my native language. Rewarding enough to be worthwhile, I think, but I needed a break. As such, I moved onto some light reading.
23 Things They Don't Tell You About Capitalism is a book by Ha-Joon Chang which told me a lot of things that I had, in fact, been told about capitalism. Perks of talking to and reading socialists, I suppose. That said the general backlash against neoliberal Free Market economics since 2008, of which the book is a part, has penetrated even into non-socialist circles.
The book is generally well-written. In a sort of academic benign condescension, the concepts are heavily simplified without feeling offensive to the reader's intelligence. Part of this is because economics is relatively vulnerable to simplification (as Chang notes, 95% of it is deliberately making simple ideas look complicated), but I think a lot of it has to be attributed to writing ability. A bit of humor goes a long way, it keeps readers feeling like they are in on the joke. I am looking forward to reading his books with a narrower and deeper focus on development economics.
One of the claims that ties together a lot of Chang's arguments is that an institution (and in particular the institution of a company) is in fact an extremely valuable object. He claims more developed organization is a significant part of why workers in rich countries are so much more economically productive than workers in poor countries. This organization, as described by Chang, seems to consist largely in the classification of workers and the establishment of functions independent of those occupying them, integrating labor into a smooth machine rather than a loose collection of parts. Or maybe I'm just reading that into the book because I was reading Foucault before.
This immense value of institutional organization is in contrast to education, which is often claimed to explain apparent differences in productivity, but which Chang says is not particularly important economically. Now, this does not mean he opposes education, he just thinks it should be pursued on its own merits rather than as an economic intervention. This actually lines up pretty well with the flaws I've seen in the European further education orthodoxy, the attribution of increasingly absurd supposed effects of education in the absence of any measurable improvements, because under European orthodoxy everything must be justified purely by reference to the economy. At one point, I saw a planning document that claimed investment in adult education will reduce unemployment by promoting entrepreneurship among learners, which is a truly impressive misunderstanding of the nature of every single concept involved.
On the topic of entrepreneurship, Chang sees it as basically a symptom of the lack of institutional organization. Entrepreneurs are an extremely economically inefficient way of managing, well, basically anything. They mostly lack the resources (capital or information) to engage in planning, and as such are prone to "market failure". The market may be useful as a form of communication in places where complexity is unavoidable, but the economy is run more through planning than it is through markets, and for good reason. Chang is narrowly skeptical of central planning, not skeptical of planning more broadly.
Chang is a non-crank academic who is actively hostile to one of the more prestigious branches of his own discipline. Not only does he consider it a fraud upon the public, he also says that to as wide a lay audience as he can find. This is a rare but definite type within academic circles. Internal hostility itself is common (as anyone who has academic friends or family likely knows) but the public dissemination is rarer. Despite the protection that tenure may offer, the scientific community is very much capable of retaliating against traitors. But even those who would not fear retribution will refrain from open criticism for fear of damaging their discipline more than they will heal it. Some of the other rhetorically skilled representatives of this type that I know of are Sabine Hossenfelder and Stephen Jay Gould.
6 notes · View notes
museenkuss · 6 months
Note
For your pretty privilege post. Tw: weight talk, loss of weight, possible fatphobia. Marie, if this isnt the right moment dont read it!
I don't know of this would be "pretty privilege" or something else (like fatphobia) but I had been overweight for many years, nothing too crazy but i was weighing about 20/30kg more than the ideal weight for my stature (I am very short, 1.50m about). I weighted as much as my dad and he has at minimum 20 cm on me and he is lean and does physical acrivities almost everyday, to have an idea. When I was like that even asking for something very neutral like directions to strangers was an hassle because many people ignored me and when I insisted they were annoyed like I wanted something from them. It could be just me being unlucky and finding many assholes but also this phenomenon didn't happen when I lost some weight some years after it. I wasn't thin even after than but maybe my weight wasn't as noticeable as before (I begun to choose more conservative clothes, choosing them so they would fit me nicer and with dark colours and I have an hourglass figure, so even if I had a gut my figure was more defined and appreciated, also just my hypothesis). I have been never defined pretty (it's not being humble: I can be cute if I dress well and do my make up a bit but never described neither as a beauty neither as a horrible monster. And I never had people have a crush on me or things like that) so I have never expected a different treatment or such but it was a jarring experience, from being invisible/a nuisance to just have an answer when I asked for it.
Sorry for the novel.
Also, I am Italian so it's a bit different from the Usa (albeit they really infect everything and everywhere)
A thing I have noticed here (not related to me) that what really counts is personality/approachability (dunno if this exists): a chatty and extroverse person is more liked even if they aren't nothing special in the physical department. In my opinion those Usa girls were cute as children/teenager, when people easily overlook your personality and coodle you if your aspect is good and when they become adults they didn't accept that their personality was shit and adults consider personality and values more than beauty so they didn't attract so much attention like before.
I have no many thoughts on this.
Firstly regarding your experiences: Darling, I’m so, SO sorry that that happened to you. It never should have, you did not deserve that. And I really hope you know that but I need to say it, too: you are not and have never been a nuisance. That was never, ever on you and it’s absolutely shameful that people treated you that way. Also, on that note: not a beauty/not a monster hit me hard, I get it completely. I’m sending you so much love!!
This also made me think how I feel like the term pretty privilege is almost offensive in this context. It implies that it’s a privilege not to be treated this way, when I feel like it’s an absolute DISGRACE that people are treating other people this way. That should not be the norm. It should not be a “privilege” to be treated decently by strangers (or anyone!!!). HOWEVER: isn’t that the case with most privileges? In that way, pretty privilege is an accurate term for a condition that does happen, as much as I dislike it.
Your point about personality also makes a lot of sense. I think that’s exactly what happens and those girls then consider themselves victims of their own prettiness for never having felt the need to have a personality. It’s also interesting that you say this because there is this “well known fact” that attractive people are hired more frequently — when I talked about that with my mother, who was in the position to hire new people at work multiple times, she expressed firmly that that’s absolute bs (her stance was something that could be summed up with ‘we need good workers, not useless beauties’). Of course this might not apply everywhere — there are definitely jobs where your looks matter, but I also think, now that you mention it, that those convictions those people hold might ALSO stem from their teen years. Teens being hired for their looks at Hollister, for example. But again — that’s not really a reflection of most of the work field. So, just as you said, I imagine those people hold certain beliefs to be true because they were when they were teens and looks mattered more than personality or skill.
In short: this was a lot to think about, thank you so so much for chiming in!!!! Many hugs!!!!!!
1 note · View note