#armwave
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like the joke from the simpsons told us: the only difference between banal modern armwaver christian pop and banal secular pop is that you change 'god' to 'baby'
Yall ever heard white church music? Christian rock is one of the most gratingly generic and repetitive genres of music out there by a mile. It sucks so fucking bad. I am talking about this now because someone is sitting in front of the hospital and blaring “how great? Is our god?” As loud as the speakers in his truck can handle
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#DanceBForSleep Ep.3 กับ Beat ที่ทำมาเพื่อการเต้น popping ซะหน่อยนะ 😁😁😁 วันนี้ดูการแข่ง battle freestyle แล้วลองเอา Inner ที่ได้จากการดูมาใช้ในครั้งนี้ และลองพยายามทำให้การ Move แต่ละส่วนของร่างกายชัดเจน ไม่วุ่นวายดู ... ยากดี อาจเพราะแค่ไม่ได้ฝึกอะไรแบบนี้เลยละมั้ง 😎😎😎 #popping #poppingdance #boogaloo #bodywave #armwave #beginner (ที่ พโลศิลป์) https://www.instagram.com/p/CAIwa6Zg7_4/?igshid=wtk54uuan4w6
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#aespa #dancepractice #behindthescenes #NingNing #Karina #armwave Song: #IJUSTWANNAPENFANYOUDAIBOR by #SingtoNumchok #rivưlét https://www.instagram.com/p/CWp2AO6ve3S/?utm_medium=tumblr
#aespa#dancepractice#behindthescenes#ningning#karina#armwave#ijustwannapenfanyoudaibor#singtonumchok#rivưlét
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something i think about literally all the time is how goro's powers with loki are literally the opposite of what the phantom thieves do. the phantom thieves free people from their distorted desires. call of chaos either gives people the freedom to or forces them, depending on your perspective, into giving in to their distorted desires. he's such a good foil to them it makes me insane.
and by nature of what he's doing, it provides him yet another rationalization for what he's doing, because well, they *wanted* to do this anyway. these people already desired to hurt people, goro just gave them a little push. he's not making people do anything they didn't already want to do on some level. the fact that people have these desires in the first place proves the corruption of people and of society.
but the truth is that he is, just like the thieves are, brainwashing people to his own ends. he's doing the same thing they are but from the opposite direction. he's creating chaos by revealing the worst parts of society by forcing the dark underbelly to the surface, and he doesn't care because every time it works it proves him right that society is beyond saving. people don't deserve anything other than the chaos he creates.
Yesss. All of this. *armwaves* Oh, Akechi, my dude, my guy....
... you little hypocrite, lmfao.
Akechi 第一、人の心を無理やりねじ曲げるなんて、人間が一番やっちゃいけない事ですよ。 dai-ichi, hito no kokoro o muriyari nejimageru nante, ningen ga ichiban yaccha ikenai koto desu yo More importantly, you should never forcefully change a person's heart. [lit. Most of all, a thing like twisting somebody's heart out of shape by force - that's the thing that most of all, a person should never do.] Most importantly, twisting someone's heart out of shape to suit yourself is the worst thing you can do.
ねじ曲げる nejimageru suggests twisting something hard out of shape, like a pretzel is twisted. It's another word that can translate as "distorted", though it's not the yuganda of "distorted desires". And Akechi is emphatic—he says dai-ichi... ichiban yaccha ikenai koto: "most of all... that's the one thing you should never do".
But nothing he says here is in terms like "change of heart" that the PTs would recognise. Instead, Akechi is describing a violent assault, in terms that perhaps clarify a bit more of Ryuji's hostility.
He is, in fact, describing exactly what he, himself, does.
but in the third semester
Akechi: And you assume we'll buy into your brainwashing and just live in the palm of your hand? Akechi: Honestly, that sounds absolutely revolting.
Akechi obviously believes what he's saying in the third semester; his whole arc centres on it. Again, it's that freedom to be who you are, no matter the cost; to choose for yourself, without anyone twisting you out of shape, forcing you to act a certain way.
It's this parallel to the third semester that suggests Akechi means what he says on 6/10—that his objections to the PTs are real. Remember, he does tend not to lie outright—he prefers to find some way to use the truth. Which leaves us with a number of possibilities regarding how he rationalises that one:
he has other objections, such as the risk to his plan, the risk to the Metaverse, or the Metaverse belonging to him alone. For sure.
he doesn't care about his victims. Almost certainly.
he views it as something you should never do, and does it anyway. Almost certainly.
he views his victims (and anyone else affected) as deserving what they get. Likely.
he views Call of Chaos not as an attack, but as a liberation or a gift, as him just giving them what they want. At some level, IMO.
he views it as unfortunate but necessary collateral damage. Probably in the middle somewhere, but IMO not at the start, and not at this point.
"you should never do this to anybody" means, specifically, you should never do this to me—and probably not to Shido, either. Definitely IMO.
and lots more exciting, varied possibilities!
conclusions??
Call of Chaos really is so fascinating, in the way it's described as an unchaining, as being out of control; in the way it suggests Akechi may have started out thinking he was the only one without these repressed desires. Because no shadow, right?
Later on, I think he knows a bit better, and is probably a bit spooked at the idea of what the PTs could do to him. But he still views those distorted desires the PTs arbitrarily dispose of as inherent to who someone is: someone's right to choose badly is a core part of their right to choose at all.
He's probably not exactly wrong. It's just that actions have consequences. Or they ought to.
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I officially love you for pointing this out, and I've just been back into my chatlogs to find this image. The sprite at the end of the engine room, when the PTs ask Akechi to go with them and he feels emotions (watch him! listen to him! look at what he's saying!) is the same sprite that he uses to shoot Ren in the interrogation room.
It's the same sprite with the mask overlaid and some cuts and bruises. It's eerie as fuck, but it's also feeling something.
This is the "having an unnameable emotion" face. He uses it at those moments because he is feeling something he can't recognise; Akechi is all about repression. The interrogation room is not a good experience for Akechi, even though he gloats, even though he smiles—he is going through the motions of his victory and doesn't realise it's not enough. Like, compare him to his trope daddy, Light Yagami—the game interrogation room scene (because I dunno who the guy in the anime scene was, but they aren't the same guy) is not what triumph looks like.
Compare it to the matching sprite for Cognitive Akechi:
Cognitive Akechi is dead-eyed and contemptuous. He is genuinely feeling nothing; he exists to do the captain's bidding. His face is genuinely empty; he has none of the repressed emotion around the eyes that real Akechi demonstrates.
Omg yes, the reason I don't read much Shuake fic is everyone seemed to settle into "the third semester is Goro's TRUE self" and I don't think that's accurate. We only see him in situations where he's under duress or still being manipulated or has a mask up. Third sem he still has a mask up because he doesn't want Akira to falter and chose the fake reality. I completely disagree it's how Goro always is and always will be, and fandom just reduces him to that so :|
Oh I feel that sm actually
Like I'm currently reviewing all of my Goro writing because,, we see so little of his honest self I'm never sure that what I'm writing is accurate.
I often like to think that Goro's speech on choosing your own path and moving on from mistakes is very aimed towards Ren. Deep down, Goro probably knows Ren did miss/mourn him (his self loathing just won't admit it). I feel like Goro really is trying his best to seem rude and manic so that Ren won't grieve him again, if that makes sense.
Other than that, Goro probably hates being used as leverage by Maruki against Ren, and that's just another source of stress...
Give this boy a break!!....
Then again, everyone always lies to everyone to some degree, the only person who will honestly know Goro to his fullest is himself. In some way, he'll always have on a mask, just like any other character. The concept itself of a "true self" is a very weird one tbh,,
The Black Mask and Detective Prince act are both lies but that mean something in context. Prince act is when he really needed to bring people closer, Black Mask is when he wanted to push people away.
Anyways I ramble too much my bad,,,
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Freedom: what is it for you? When do you feel free? • freedom is when I get out of my brain. In my body. My instinct. No choreography. No plan. No filter. No questions. No little voice inside my head. inspiring music. A stage and an audience can make it fun. #contemporarydancer #bellydancefusion #waving #legwave #armwave #bodywave #chairdance #wilddance #freestyle #hybrid #yogadanceair #anasma #sadieandanasmaretreat #goa #tribalbellydance Thank you for your support, miss you all ladies! Une Pensée pour @impro_cie_voltaik et Pose ton décor And big thought to all my teachers whose transmissions are inside of me Richmond Shepard, @thierry_verger_eizra , @dominiquelesdema9608, @futureeof, @marcelotessari, laure buathier, @blandine.martel 🙏🏻 ... and my friends and mentors along the way @piny.orchidaceae @lindafaoro @arnaldoiasorli @sadiebellydance being with you this week opened a door of wild, fully embraced, powerful femininity 🙏🏻❤️ Music “For Amha” by Girma Beyene and Akale Yube. Costume : bodysuit by @ahmar_bellydance (à Devarya Wellness) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5I-v8flIB8/?igshid=irus74709n4y
#contemporarydancer#bellydancefusion#waving#legwave#armwave#bodywave#chairdance#wilddance#freestyle#hybrid#yogadanceair#anasma#sadieandanasmaretreat#goa#tribalbellydance
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#dancehallclass @redsquaredj_groyal @ricktrooper @rebelnationrise #redsquare #spraggabenzapparel #linkinbio🔥🔥🔥🔥 #tshirts #armwave #cds
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Something I missed in this post: the PTs, of course, react with their group ! when Cognitive Akechi threatens Akechi. Who they've just gone to all that trouble to try to save—and almost succeded.
And he reacts, in turn, when they are threatened.
falls over and dies
I WAS TODAY-YEARS-OLD WHEN I FOUND OUT AKECHI LEARNS “PROTECT” BEFORE “ENDURE.”
HE LITERALLY PUTS JOKER’S LIFE BEFORE HIS OWN
#persona 5#p5 meta#goro akechi#the squad#edited to add#ARMWAVE LOOK OK IT'S MUTUAL IT'S COMPLICATED#STOP SAYING THEY JUST HATE HIM#STOP SAYING HE JUST HATES THEM#THERE'S NO 'JUST' ANYTHING HERE#STOP
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under the bright of todays and yestermorrows, into and sprang from the hush of those that sleep, envelope, en-vell-up. unveil. enveil. the dichotomy delusions, that is that and this is this, you know? no division between the apprehensive muted acknowledgment of existence and existence itself. today waits, but not for us. do you hear the terse? the strapped? the fickle breath holding that is today? yes, today waits, but not for you or I. And being brief flashes in earthly pans, our own personal waitings must be manyfold. this is mortality. to weighscale fractulated silences and alarms. this is impermanence. to be tethered to physical cycles. tethered, not bound. training wheels, not caged. this is our proving ground. and today? today waits, but not for us. it waits all the same. if you listen you can hear the soft crackling hiss of marrow in the fire. if you watch you can see the lackof-but-thatwhich-thatinspired-ourideasof-patience. that which that is, but never was or will be. the thing that is now that has never been or will ever be. that which that waits to begin again. that which that waits to end anew. but really, to wait is human, and here I apply it to something beyond mortality. I use the words as one-illiterate might paint a picture. To point at, not to encompass. to armwave vaguely in the direction of the ocean. 'thereabouts, follow your nose'.
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Tv in England during QE2 mourning.
BBC1 ALL GRIEF with 2nd tier journos who were in the same room as a royal 3 years ago, seated in the media tent by Buck House which is spoiling the views for the public .
BBC2 Grief and documentaries. Duplicated news channel coverage.
BBC3 documentaries about cosy history & landscape & QE2 footage.
BBC4 CUT & PASTE BBC3
BBC NEWS 24 stuff actual news we're interviewing Giles Brandreth's tie manufacturer now oh my g-d and "nice" people in a 5 mile queue in the cold & the people providing portaloos & hi viz armwaving to remind that the Thames is on the right face the right way
BBC PARLIAMENT 24 hour pretty draped lead-lined oak coffin in a room & people shuffle. Due to no government in Parliament & no working stuff there is zero lawmaker reporting in public view ...
ITV & C4 news reporting of the same stuff as up there but dropping cosy afternoon mysteries & antiques for quality journos & BBC escaped quality journos with 50% calm programmes.
All the above have station idents with black background headshot of QE2 aged about 45 but now are running most adverts.
Extra added bonus mention: National Geographic change logo from eyesearing yellow to black, and put Queen Elizabeth 1926 - 2022 on top right also in black *but normal programming *.
Tldr: show commemoration & modify a few outputs from respect & use journalism skills. Ukraine, Pakistan, that typhoon in the Pacific, the alarming Swedish election result yesterday... I know about these ongoing events through watching non British TV. That's why I'm sane.
As a Londoner I saw the flowers Saturday before it all went mad, and didn't go back due to the selfies being taken in front of the piles of flowers. A train is being platformed at Kings Cross to provide "rest" facilities... Train toilets welcome to London :/


#london as a character#anti ram raid barriers in public spaces#qe2 funeral plan#flowers#piles and piles of flowers#edit for spell check
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Last night she was back home, living at her parents’ house. She was driving the old, blue car with its flimsy lap belts and brakes that regularly gave out at stop signs and redlights. It was terrifying but her father did not want to hear about it and insisted that the car must not be altered in any way.
It was very late at night and she was driving home. She approached the intersection at Lemon and she felt the brakes mush under her foot. The car slid off to the right, she pulled hard at the stiff steering wheel, trying to correct it, which then sent her careening across the left hand side of the road and into a car. She clipped or crashed into seven cars parked along the avenue that led to the street on which she grew up. (What were they doing there? No Overnight Parking on the streets of her hometown.) With each impact she flinched and cried out. The anticipation of her father’s reaction, when the damage to the car was eventually discovered, sent her into paroxysms of sweat and hot flashes of anxiety.
After slowly, carefully navigating her own street she pulled the car into the driveway, gently pushed down on the brakes, pulled hard on the parking brake, and groaned to herself as the inevitable screeching ravaged the silence of the neighborhood. She gingerly exited the car, shutting the door as softly as she could, and locked it by turning the key. She dreaded any sound waking him.
It didn’t matter how old she was, coming home late enraged him. Doing anything late enraged him. He would have stewed himself into an angry, disdainful silence over this. Not because she kept him up late with worry. But because, in his world, all good people went to bed before 10pm. Often when she and her mother would stay up late, watching bad movies on channel 9, eating and giggling — shhhhhhh!! don’t wake him up — he would stomp out to the kitchen because he would have had to go to the bathroom and there he would see the golden glow of warm conviviality seeping out into the dark hallway from underneath the kitchen pocket door. They could hear him back in the hallway, swearing as he slammed into the bathroom. They would whisper to each other until about 15 minutes later the violence of the bathroom door swinging open would create a momentary weather event in the hallway, thus causing the kitchen door, as well as every other door in the low-slung, dark house, to slam in its frame. This would make Pandora and her mother jump three feet and then the kitchen door would slide open and he would ask them, in his most exasperated, most appalled voice, “what the fuck” they were doing up so late, and order them to go to bed. He would shake his head and dismiss them with his legendary armwave of abhorrence. They would look at each other and roll their eyes companionably. They were annoyed by this intrusion into their cozy foxhole and they would whisper resentfully. Why must all joy be policed?…
She swallowed hard and walked up the driveway, did her best to turn the key slowly and silently in the lock, twist the handle gently, and open the creaking backdoor making as little noise as she could. Stupid back door, she hated how flimsy it was, how the lock and bolt seemed like silly, titular gestures.
But all of her concerted efforts were moot, he stood in the kitchen in his old, white underpants, arms folded, silently glowering, and shaking his head at her. He turned on his heel and stalked off to the bathroom to slam the door.
She walked through the long, shadow-filled house to her room where she found her first babysitter sitting on her bed going through an old backpack. Pandora was not sure if what she saw was real or not and thought the best course was to wait it out and see. She closed her bedroom door and immediately began to clean her room. Her babysitter ignored her, turning the pages of a logic textbook that she appeared to be studying. Every few minutes she would look at Pandora but still she said nothing, as if daring her to speak first. Pandora sorted laundry, put away clutter, and tidied her shoes, silent all the while, until finally she could stand it no longer.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“You don’t understand what is happening around you,” the babysitter replied without looking up from her book. “You’d better pay attention. Why don’t you try looking through scorched silk?”
And then she was gone.
Pandora pondered that advice for a few moments and then left her room for the kitchen but her father was waiting for her in the living room. This was a surprise. Usually he would go back to bed after one of these storms. Clearly this was not over.
And now it seemed that her mother was up as well. She sat in the old, green, velvet rocking chair next to the spinning wheel. But she was not the mother Pandora knew 95.5% of the time. No, this was the mother who sat by mute and would not raise a sympathetic eye to her, would not raise her voice to help her. The mother who gratefully gobbled up any little crumb of kindness that her Lord & Master might toss out after starving her nearly to death. Never mind that there were never any such crumbs for her daughter. This Other Mother was prone to unpredictable behavior and acted like she had never even heard of the foxhole.
As her father began to recite Pandora’s litany of sins she tried to remember the last time she had not run to take up her mother’s defense. Had she ever allowed anyone to speak harshly to or against her mother? She truly did not think so. If anything, Pandora was loyal to a fault. (It often worked against her.)
Suddenly the altered tone of her father’s voice alerted her that something was not right. Something was very, very different. Her mother held a large bag and her father was advancing on her, his voice now a low, guttural growl. Her heart contracted hard in her chest and she actually heard herself gasp aloud.
And then she looked down at her right hand and saw that she held a small knife. Where did that come from? Her mother? She looked up into her mother’s face and she saw a flash of poisonous hatred that took her breath away. What happened to the golden daisies, where did they go? She finally understood that her mother was there to help him. Her father lunged forward, she raised her arm and then brought it down on his left shoulder and she was stabbing him and he roared and went down in front of her and she was more scared than ever because she had stabbed her father. She dropped the little knife.
She had stabbed the king; what would happen to her? What do they do to horrible, useless, pointless, vile, guilty, disgusting, ugly girls like her?
And then she looked to her mother whose face was now a blank, unlined mask with nothing to tell her. This was a new kind of falling through cold, black space with no end.
And then she woke up.
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#DanceBForSleep Ep.4 กับ Beat ที่ทำมาเพื่อการเต้น popping เหมือนคราวที่แล้วนะ 😁😁😁 ตั้งแต่วันนั้นมาก็ได้อัดคลิปเต้นอีกเลย เปลี่ยนเป็นไป work out เอากำลังแทน วันนี้พักเลยเต้นซะหน่อย ... เต้นวันนี้ไม่เอาท่ายากเยอะละกัน วันนี้เอาแค่ basic เต้นให้ตรง Beat เพลงที่สุดก่อน ใส่ท่านิด ๆ หน่อย ๆ เอาแค่หอมปากหอมพอก็พอนะจ๊ะ อิอิ 😎😎😎 #popping #poppingdance #boogaloo #bodywave #armwave #beginner @ พโลศิลป์ (ที่ พโลศิลป์) https://www.instagram.com/p/CAneqByAV9z/?igshid=1oxvjn2x4k61h
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“Käyt’ sä usein täällä?” (lolyes)
(He pointed me out during this line AGAIN. I don't really like Nuoriherra but I guess I really just have to learn it so I can sing along properly. I think he also gave me an interesting look during Kukaan ei koskaan. Was he expecting me to pull out the banner again? It’s on my wall so I didn’t have it with me.)
So this show was pretty interesting since an opening act had been added later, who was surprisingly good. Just before that began, I went to check on the merch table and The Sign wasn’t up so I asked merch guy (the shop’s namesake and the rhythm guitarist) whether Senpai was going to hang around afterward and he said no, since they’d had a long day driving here from the other side of the country. So I asked him to pass my note on to Senpai…
The two ladies next to me were mildly mesmerized either by my dramatic armwaving or that I sang along with (almost) everything. (This is the “second-hand energy” I wrote about.) Likely both, since one briefly acted out the lyrics as if supposing I didn’t understand them. At one point they even asked if I wanted to switch places with them so I could be in front of Senpai but I declined (I think it’s an awkward place ahahaha). One said that this was her 20th gig in 4 years, and that she had roped her friend (the other) in a couple of years back. (I guess Tummilla teillä made an impression on a lot of people — myself included.) I’ve overheard so many such stories of people getting their friends into it. Senpai’s energy spreads like wildfire…
But OK they now have SILVER capes. I actually would have preferred a SILVER cape because it’d go better with the red t-shirt with my name on that I was going to wear under my BLUE cape to the pre-show reception in Tampere in a couple of weeks. But there’s no point owning two when occasions to wear it are already as rare as they are (I wouldn’t risk getting it dirty at a nightclub), so I am just going to make peace with it (not 100% sure but I think blue was the first, OG, batch).
* * * * *
Previously:
Photos/commentary later, here’s last night’s set list. It hasn’t changed all THAT much but they’ve swapped out a few songs which weren’t high on my favorites list anyway so I’m totally fine with that. (I’ve marked the additions in italics.)
19.03.2022 Kerubi, Joensuu
Ei voittajaa
Rodeo
Korkeapaine
Turunlinnan muurilla
Nuoriherra
Nena laulaa ilmapalloistaan
Älä lopu yö
Kolme hyvää vinkkiä
Ei se rakkaudesta mitään tiedä
Kukaan ei koskaan
Sinisiä kukkia (this was clearly topical and now it's stuck in my head)
Wallander
Intiaanit
Viimeinen hetki ennen muuta / Faarao
Onnellinen mies
Arlandan portailla
// Tummilla teillä
// Turisti (was the entire front row LITERALLY crying)
Somebody backstage brought out lemon tea for him, aww.

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A present
[Something I wrote on Valentine and second Valentine: ]
A Missy/Clara fanfic.
A Valentine card arrived in the mail. Clara watched it fall from the mail slot in the door onto the floor.
“Totally stealing you from your boyfriend.” It read.
Her boyfriend was dead. Since very recently. What was supposed to have been her first Valentine shared with him, was now yet another one without him. It was different now than any Valentines before, in that now, she had known him.
Four cheerful knocks on the door followed. Clara should have known what this meant, who this indicated, if the Doctor had told her about the drums, but he hadn’t.
Still in her pajama, for it was ridiculously early, she opened the door. Missy was like an excited kid who waited till midnight to wake you to celebrate your birthday. The grief-stricken Clara did not even look at her. Her eyes were glued to a unmoving vision of Danny, standing right in front of her, next to a Missy who was not as talented at standing still. Missy shied away for a fraction of a second, noticing that her Clara did not take much note of her. As if the girl had gotten used to Missy being anywhere, she expected her, you can’t surprise her anymore you silly Time Lady. She had become predictable, her worst fear, well, almost. Missy tapped her foot in a clearly insulted manner but again Clara took no notice. Perhaps she should put the blame with the success of her creation. A reason then to take pride.
“Danny?”
“A holographic projection actually, only….” The Time Lady leaned against the Danny projection, she put her full weight onto him, the illusion never budged. “solid.
Present for you.” She beamed.
“I just love Valentine, don’t you. It puts so much pressure on you people and it’s ghastly to look at, those flaring pinks and reds. A holiday of your own human making, poisonous to everyone whether they are in a relationship or not. Oh I love it! So I thought I’d get you something. I stopped by the Doctor as well, he wasn’t too happy to see me, what news. You got to show people you care, he never quite understood love did he? I am babbling on, I am such a mess. Must be the stars.”
She indicated the sky in a non-specific armwave.
“Ooh look, Danny’s got something for you too.” She nudged the doll-Danny’s hand forward.
“Missy, get out and take that with you.”
“I am not even in yet.” She pouted. “You wouldn’t refuse your pupper boyfriend would you?”
“It is not Danny, quit pretending.”
“Thought you’d like a big picture of him, something to put next to your bed to keep you from nightmares.” Translation, to give you nightmares. “Protective, non Cyberman Danny. Oh I see the problem, here I am, coming over with such an awe-inspiring present… Feeling guilty you didn’t get me anything? Don’t worry about it, precious. We can easily fix that.” Missy dove into the apartment, snatched Clara’s purse from the table and ran to the other side of the room, already exploring its contents. She kept the peppermints, put one of Clara’s hairclips in her own hair.
“Missy! Leave that.”
The Time Lady sighed dramatically. “Have you still not read his card? He’ll be ever so disappointed if you don’t.”
“Fine.” Clara snapped. “I take the card, you get out of my house.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it dearest.” Missy smiled her most sugary smile.
The card from Danny’s hand was in Clara’s own handwriting, this was the most unsettling thing about it. The text she was faced with was pretty much what she would imagine from a fake note by Missy.
“Mistress,
Thank you for a most beautiful night. Can’t wait to forget all about my boyfriend all over again.
Xoxo Clara”
Missy had taken up a new strategic place, her cheek resting upon Clara’s shoulder, she was gently peeping over her shoulder.
“Puppy, that is so sweet! But ooh I think your boyfriend is angry with you. You shouldn’t leave such heartfelt cards lying about, you know.”
The projection’s face did take on a different expression, supposedly anger. It looked so very un-Danny, it failed to impress or frighten the ever pragmatic Clara.
Missy bit her pinkie. “Think you’d better take him out with some superkungfu or something before he does anything unpleasant to your flat, house, thingie.”
Clara remained remarkably calm. “You programmed this fake Danny to threaten me, to smash my place,“ Missy was nodding passionately. “unless I… what?”
“Sleep with me? Yes.” Again Missy nodded in excitement. “or spend loads of time with me. I wanted to get myself something nice as well, you see, such a cold wide universe, even I get lonely. I planned you your perfect Valentine. I knew you’d like it!”
Clara looked sympathetically at certainly-not- Danny. Now she was the one who had Missy all snugly wrapped around her shoulders.
“Come on, Puppy.”
[I am going to end this silly here. Because Clara is quite frankly not playing along here and I don’t want to end up with a sad Missy.
Guess what, new day,: ]
“As the Master of Disguise, it would of course have been amusing to dress up as Danny myself, but I found this idea much more fun.” Missy chatted, kissing the nape of Clara’s neck. Clara let her, only because the whole thing was preposterous. She needed more time to think this over and come with a solution or maybe she needed to think less. To improvise on instinct could serve her better in reaching a way out than careful planning ever did. The expression on Danny’s face seemed to soften somewhat.
“Be nice to me.” Missy simpered. “I don’t want Danny boy to kill you, just yet. Murder wouldn’t be in the spirit of Valentine.”
“It is always a good day for murder according to you, Missy.”
“Oh, I like you Clara!” Exclaiming a shriek of joy the Time Lady yanked her hand and twirled her human pet around. “You know me so well puppet!” She covered her lips and the area around Clara’s lips in small wet kisses.
“Let’s go!” She kept hold of her hand and sang. “Got myself a crying, talking, sleeping, walking living doll, got to do my best to please her just cause she’s a living doll…”
“Go?”
“It’s a date, an adventure, as your Doctor takes you on, maybe not exactly like that. You don’t want to stay in your musky doggie litter living space do you?”
“Hey there is nothing wrong with my flat!”
“No, dear, but how would you live with yourself afterwards? I am being considerate, see. No, I’d like to take you somewhere you can return to to feel all happy and nostalgic about today. Shticking to the same time zone possibly and not too far. I like you seeking me out.”
She picked her song back up. ”… that is why she satisfies my souls -fies my soul. Got the one and only …”
“As you do with the Doctor?” Clara definitely struck a nerve there. Missy’s face fell.
“Yes,” she replied softly. “it is nice to feel wanted. To me, anyway, the idiot doesn’t seem too fond of it.”
“That is because he is an idiot.” Clara ventured, to see if she would regret supporting Missy. She didn’t feel much different. She didn’t check Missy’s facial expression for a reaction, she didn’t care for one.
She needed to neutralize this token of good will with a sarcastic but honest note. That was easy to come by. She looked upon her dead boyfriend all prepped up and ready to murder her for dramatic effect. She would have preferred Missy just holding that phone-device thing up to threaten killing her with. “Maybe it’s because you are really bad at gift giving, Missy.”
“Yeah, it’s probably just that. He loves me.”
She did not sound convinced.
[Looks now like this is going to end up Clara giving Missy relationship advice on the Doctor. Yeah I can live with that future. J ]
Missy put the projector device in her pocket. In a blink the Danny image was one.
“Let’s go.” Missy repeated, tugging Clara’s hand and already merrily singing some more.
“I‘m gonna lock her up in a trunk so no big hunk can steal her away from me…”
“Wait the door!” Clara ran back through the corridor. She fumbled in her flat, looking for her keys. Missy smiled and handed those back to her in a swooping gesture. Clara locked the door. Then put the keys back in her purse. Missy had seen her pink key chain, great. She was taking her purse with her, it was best to look prepared.
She walked hand in hand with the skipping Time Lady. If anyone here was the “happy puppy being let out for a walk” it was Missy.
One thing Clara failed to notice but Missy was very much aware of and not going to mention to the young lady until a great deal later, were Clara’s pajama’s. Only when she was certain the practical human was too far away to run back home for clothes, was she going to point her current outfit out to her, and then her puppers would have to borrow something from hers.
What bliss. She once more snuggled up on Clara’s shoulder.
Suspicious and suddenly very concerned for her best friend, Clara spoke up: ”What did you give the Doctor?”
Missy snickered to her. “Never you mind. He’ll be fine. Physically anyway. I gave him the perfect opportunity to spend his whole Valentine by himself as he prefers. I took his preferences in mind this time. I am learning.”
“What did you give?”
“He likes cute human girls.”
“Companions.” Clara corrected
“After I gave him you, it was difficult coming up with something better. “
“Especially after an army of cyberzombies?”
“Yes…” Missy fretted, looking truly concerned.
“I gave him a dating sim game, cute human girls, kind of his thing.”
“That is strangely thoughtful of you…”
“Isn’t it just? “ she grinned happily.
“When I visited, I kissed him and presented him with a card.”
“You do love your cards.”
“Yes! I put extra glitter in the envelope. I wrote him “My Hearts go do-ki do-ki, do-ki do-ki for you. “ or do do ki ki do do ki ki, dokididokidido or do do do do ki ki ki ki
Then I gave him the game, to keep him entertained. I installed it in the Tardis while I distracted him. It is perfect for him. I will take no criticism.”
“I don’t know the game.”
Now Missy seemed truly delighted. “You wouldn’t, you’re all grown up and responsible. Clara doesn’t do games.”
“You asked the Doctor to be your Valentine as well? You can’t have multiple Valentines.”
“Of course I can. My hearts are very large.” Grinning she continued. “I may write a card to Captain Jack too, want to help me prepare a gift? There,” Missy reached into her pocket. Clara felt that should begin to fear the magic of that pocket. “Oh not that, that’s my lipstick,” She handed it to Clara anyway. “try it.” But Clara just held it, put it in her own pocket for safekeeping. She told herself she could play this magpie game just as well as the Mistress. “Ah here it is.” She conjured something else out of her pocket and put it on Clara’s head. Fluffy cats ear with bells and ruffles. “Much better. You are so pretty.” Looking at Missy’s, Clara had to admit rather nice, bracelets, she spotted, yes, another vortex manipulator in place. “Or we could visit the Victorian Potato Squad as well, nothing like hanging out with my boyfriend’s peeps. Anyone you want to surprise?”
“Sounds like you have an awful lot of plans,”
“Yep, a fully plate, told you, I am treating myself.”
“I’d better stay behind.” Her heart ached, as it usually did when Missy was being her happy self, it made Clara want to run along with her, but also increased the chances of this leading to certain ruin for her. She had to take this tiny chance of escape.
“Nonsense, you are my lovely hostage. I want you with me. Why do you think I went through all this trouble to find you sweetie, my pretty and my little doggie too. Being besties with you comes first.” She nuzzled her nose against Clara’s. An arm slid around her waist and Missy kissed her lips again. “We can stay in or go out, it doesn’t matter. I am a Time Lady, Valentine can last however long we like.”
Clara kissed her deeper then and felt the mess of an all-powerful chaotic Time Lady shut up and, at last, relax in her embrace.
[Look at that, a happy Missy ending.
If you are not familiar with doki doki literature club, it is the cutest most scary dating sim game. ]
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So I went to the Six60 Saturdays concert.
I asked my dad if he'd drive me in return for a ticket. I'm calling it his birthday present haha.
It was super cute watching him take heaps of pics and trying to take heaps of videos before his cell battery died! He had an absolute blast and said it was the best show he's been to in around 20 years.
I'm really stoked he enjoyed it. He's been in music since I can remember, but he's never been part of any groups who made it big. He was so happy to see Drax Project who have heavy jazz and saxophone influences be as popular as they are. He said that it gives him hope that the younger generations will get in to the same kinds of music that he's loved.
We were both especially stoked that Six60 used their show to show off all the amazing talent in NZ by raising up and showing off such awesome supporting acts. If you don't already know these bands, please youtube them... Foley, Kings, Sachi, Drax Project and Six60.
Because of my hand stuff I couldn't clap or armwave but I made up for it by screaming as loud as I could to show my love and support. I haven't completely lost my voice, so I think I could've gone harder lol.
In this pic, partway through the main act, Matiu left the main stage and jumped up on the scaffolding around the sound and lighting guys to sing a couple Bob Marley songs as a tribute for what would've been his 75th birthday. It was an awesome atmosphere, and hearing the crowd singing back to Matiu was really special. ❤❤❤
#personal#long post#six60#drax project#sachi#kings#foley#epic show was epic#is hearteyes emoji a tag?#😍#it is now
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I'm used to either my phone not working or things not working on the phone it's fine I'll just do it when I wake up once more *woes a weird armwave thing*

i did the test thingie, not that supprised
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