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#but i don't think that gets an in-person follow-up
widow-tarot · 3 days
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MINI PAC READING: What Would They Tell You If They Could? (Romance)
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GROUPS: 1 - 2 - 3 4 - 5 - 6
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Instruction: Think about your person while choosing a group. Do not use more than 1 group for one person. Just to remind you, this is only for entertainment purposes.
If you don't feel drawn to any group, then this reading is not for you.
GROUP 1
Cards: Ace of Wands, Knight of Wands rx, Wheel of Fortune rx, I Like You, Girl Talk rx, Pond, Archangel Metatron.
I like you. I know it's straightforward, but I cannot say it in any other way that's more meaningful or more direct. It might not sound meaningful but it is to me (I hope it is to you too). I feel there is a spiritual connection between us and it seems no matter what, we keep coming back to each other. Our connection is like a pond; can be insignificant to others but to us, it holds so much life and secrets but it can easily be destroyed if not cultivated. We are so hot and cold; we like each other, then we hate each other over something trivial (we both don't know what exactly annoyed us). I want to move towards you but things are holding me back. There's so much I want to do and say but I'm standing still. I know we will truly come together someday. No one knows about it because I don't share those feelings with friends. It seems too private and sacred.
SONGS:
Eric by Mitski ("Take off my clothes and watch me move; You can come closer, I'll let you hurt me; But how long, how long can we play this way?; I'm tired, I'm tired of not loving you"
Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey ("Ours a love I held tightly; Feeling the rapture grow; Like a flame burning brightly; But when she left; Gone was the glow")
Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby by Cigarettes After Sex ("Whispered something in your ear; It was a perverted thing to say; But I said it anyway; Made you smile and look away; Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby; As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine")
GROUP 2
Cards: 9 of Pentacles, 2 of Pentacles, 7 of Cups, Noose rx, Mushrooms, The Snake, Hammer rx, Seraphim Seraphisa rx.
You will forever be in my heart and mind, but we can never be together in the way we want. There are way too many blockages and I do think we are not fit to be in a relationship. I am in a committed relationship (or you are) and I do not wish to leave her for I love her. Maybe I am a coward, but I am a practical and cautious one. I will not take reckless actions just to wake up one day and regret it. I think what we have is a fantasy, pleasant make-believe, daydreaming. However, I don't want you gone because you're an important person to me. I wish you happiness but I can't follow you.
SONGS:
Lonesome Love by Mitski ("I call you, to see you again; So I can win, and this can finally end")
Blue Banisters by Lana Del Rey ("She said, "You can't be a muse and be happy, too; You can't blacken the pages with Russian poetry and be happy"; And that scared me; 'Cause I met a man who said he'd come back every May;Just to help me if I'd paint; Now when weather turns to May; All my sisters come to paint")
Flash by Cigarettes After Sex ("I'm a flash; You were blinded by the love I had; I'm a flash; The light could only get in through the cracks")
GROUP 3
Cards: The Hierophant rx, 8 of Wands, The Devil, 10 of Swords rx, Wildflowers, Mirror, Keys on a Ring, Archangel Raphael.
You are the temptation, the chaos in my life, the wildflowers that can still be growing but can also be already taken by someone else while I wasn't looking. You're untouchable, unable to be caught, translucent. One minute you're here only to leave seconds later just to come back and stay for a long time. You're unpredictable, a sin worth sinning for. But I hate to be alone and you make me sad. I love to see you but I hate myself when you leave. I don't know if you have any feelings for me; is it something serious or is it just casual and convenient? I can't do this anymore, I'm trapped and I feel miserable. I wish I could tell you to stay away, to abandon me, to never come back. It would be easier for me to move on then but I am a fool for you. I wish I was strong enough to talk things through but I'd rather have some of you than none of you. Then again, being with you hurts me so what should I do?
SONGS:
Should've Been Me by Mitski ("Relive all the ways you still want me; I haven't given you what you need; You wanted me but couldn't reach me; I'm sorry it should've been me"
Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey ("I will love you till the end of time; I would wait a million years; Promise you'll remember that you're mine; Baby, can you see through the tears?; You went out every night; And, baby, that's alright; But when you walked out that door; A piece of me died")
Ambien Slide by Cigarettes After Sex ("Take my love with some pretend; You said you couldn't help it; Had everything that you wanted; When my love was something yours; But now you're feeling helpless")
GROUP 4
Cards: Death, Page of Pentacles rx, The Chariot rx, Archangel Sammael, Eileen Chang rx, Boat rx, Engagement Ring rx.
I don't want to try to fix this thing between us anymore, it's a fool's errand. We tried and it didn't work, it's time to move on to something else because we are just wasting our time and I'm exhausted. Let me go. Let me leave, peacefully. I don't want to fight but I'm frustrated. I think we tried to escape the inevitable but at the end of the road, we cannot pretend any longer. Relieve me of this burden and don't resent me.
SONGS:
Working For The Knife by Mitski ("I always thought the choice was mine; And I was right, but I just chose wrong")
Bel Air by Lana Del Rey ("Gargoyles standing at the front of your gate; Trying to tell me to wait; But I can't wait to see you; So I run, like I'm mad, to heaven's door; I don't wanna be bad; I won't cheat you no more")
Tejano Blue by Cigarettes After Sex ("We wanted to fuck with real love; Wanted it sweet, so pure and warm; And when you say you want it all, I know you want it all; Baby, take it all from me; I always will make it feel like you were the last one; So get in the waves like it was the first time")
GROUP 5
Cards: The Star rx, 7 of Pentacles, 10 of Swords rx, Glove rx, The Phoenix, Paradise rx, Archangel Haniel.
I wish we could start anew, without any bitter history between us that holds us back and clouds our judgment. We cannot fully be together while all these thoughts are troubling us, making us suspicious of each other and insecure. I know we both lost hope for this connection, yet we are still going and proceeding with it in any way we can. We don't want this to be over but we need to find a solution. I want you in my life and I'm willing to put work into it. Are you? Someone needs to make the first step though and it's the most difficult thing to do. We cannot stay still for much longer though. We communicate telepathically but we also have to communicate in real life.
SONGS:
First Love/Late Spring by Mitski ("Please hurry leave me; I can't breathe; Please don't say you love me; One word from you and I would; Jump off of this ledge I'm on; Tell me "don't" so I can crawl back in")
Video Games by Lana Del Rey ("It's you, it's you, it's all for you; Everything I do; I tell you all the time; Heaven is a place on earth with you; Tell me all the things you wanna do; It's better than I ever even knew; They say that the world was built for two; Only worth living if somebody is loving you")
Goodbye Mr Blue by Father John Misty (" But maybe if he'd gone sooner; Could've brought us back together last June; When the last time was our last time; If only then I knew; The last time was our last time; Would've told you that the last time comes too soon")
GROUP 6
Cards: Page of Swords rx, 9 of Cups rx, 4 of Swords, Sappho, Archangel Chamuel, Cupid's Arrow rx, Separation rx.
Do you love me? You say you do why does your love cause so much pain? Why am I in agony instead of being elated and happy? Is this how you show your love? I feel neglected and manipulated. I feel ignored and mocked. Am I your partner or your pet? Do you even care what I want? Do you care what I have to say? You treat me as a child as if I cannot think or decide for myself. Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think so lowly of me? When you're not here, I don't miss you and my mind is at ease. I lost all hope for anything to change. It hurts even more because I love you, but your love is weird and dysfunctional. I feel trapped. I even stopped speaking my mind because it was met with ridicule and anger.
SONGS:
Wife by Mitski ("For if I am not yours, what am I?; I daydream I'd give one a name of my own; For even I am on loan; For even mine is unknown; So let me go towards the morning star; With hope it won't disappear;)
Carmen by Lana Del Rey ("Baby's all dressed up, with nowhere to go; That's the little story of the girl you know; Relyin' on the kindness of strangers; Darlin', darlin', doesn't have a problem; Lyin' to herself, 'cause her liquor's top shelf; It's alarmin', honestly, how charmin' she can be; Foolin' everyone, tellin' 'em she's havin' fun")
Hot by Cigarettes After Sex ("Is it all in my head? 'Cause I keep getting scared; That I'll always be lost forever; But I don't give a shit if I'm too delicate; When you hold me, it's always better")
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specss00 · 2 days
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ALTERHUMAN SLANG DICTIONARY
MAMMALIAN
Got on my back paws - got on my hands and knees. Like how animals can stand up as a trick.
ex: yeah, i really wanted that necklace, i had to get on my back legs so she would get it for me.
Showing fang - standing up for yourself/being assertive. 
ex:  he’s really tough, and he’ll show fang at just about anything.
White eye - going crazy/really scared. Like how animals show the whites of their eyes when very agitated.
ex: haha, i saw how scared you were during that movie, you went all white eye at the end!
Howling at the sun[wolf/werewolf] doing something completely ridiculously/incorrect
Ex: dude did you see how that movie ended? Mc was really howling at the sun
Could hear someone purring[cat, any other purring animal]  noticeably becoming relaxed around someone/something
Ex: I saw you with your new plush yesterday, I could really hear you purring
Treetop chaser - (herbivorous) someone who chases unattainable things.
ex: they’re way out of your league, don’t be a treetop chaser
Bellycrawler - someone overly submissive.
ex - you have to stand up for yourself, don’t be a bellycrawler and let them take advantage of you.
Downy - young, referring to the soft fur of young animals. 
ex - she shouldn’t be out til midnight, she’s still downy!
Sit on your wag - means the same thing as swallow your smile.
ex - i got accepted into college, but my sister wasn’t, so i had to sit on my wag.
Go for the ruff - do something harmless/gently.
ex - the shirt was really ugly, but i went for the ruff so i didn’t hurt his feelings.
Flea - an insult meaning antikin, or a bigot in general.
ex - oh, you have him in your class? Be careful, he’s a total flea.
AQUATIC
Riptide Rider - (aquatic) someone who lives dangerously.
ex: stay away from her, she’s a riptide rider, you’re bound to get hurt.
Current crazy - someone who just follows other people, same as flock brain
ex: my brother joined the football team, and now he’s all current crazy.
Bottomfeeder - an insult for a low-class being.
ex - the boys at my school are such bottomfeeders, they make all the girls uncomfortable.
Floater - an insult for a superior or snobby person.
ex - ugh, they’re such a floater. They brag about their promotions ALL THE TIME.
Seen the whale fall - someone who is very experienced, now become a word for old among younger aquatics.
ex - my gramps has really seen the whale fall, he’s almost 95!
Play remora - like devil’s advocate, because remoras stick close to sharks.
ex - i don’t wanna play remora about this, but i think he was lying.
AVIAN
Flock brain - (avian) someone who can’t think for themselves. 
ex: ugh, she’s only hanging out with them now, she’s being a total flock brain.
A hummer with an eagle - (avian) someone who is clearly out of their depth.
ex: are you sure you can handle advanced classes? No offense, but you’ll be a hummer with the eagles.
Mantling over [smth] - [avian] being possessive, traditionally over food items 
Ex : Sarah is really mantling over that burger menu, I tried to take a fry and she almost bit my head off...
All preened up - [avian] well dressed, well groomed, the state of satisfaction and confidence that comes with A Good Look
Ex : Wow, Eric was all preened up this evening. I don't think I've ever saw him take this many selfies. 
And just for fun...
Going for the rattler - [roadrunner] choosing the hard or dangerous option, with expectation of either great fun or a great reward
Ex : "Huh, this park offers either a canyoning session over rapids or a day in the sun near the lake" "well I'm definitely going for the rattler" 
flare(s) my wings - (avian) makes me tense/nervous/angry 
"i don't like him, he always makes me flare my wings" 
makes my wings flutter - (avian) makes me happy/excited
"pasta always makes my wings flutter"
im pretty sure "ruffles my feathers" is a preexisting one
messy wings (with no time to preen) - (avian) having a bad day/stressed (and haven't had time to cool down)
"yeah today my wings are so messy and i haven't had time to preen"
Having a blood feather - [avian] being particularly irritable 
ex : Don't bother with this guy, he's been having a severe case of blood feathers. He'll jump at you for anything.
Riding the updraft - [flying creature] taking advantage of good opportunities, being lucky in life, having an easy time.
ex : I've been really riding the updraft recently ! Got both a promotion and a new car! 
Beak agape - [avian] furious, about to throw down.
ex : Jesus, this dude really left me beak agape. The audacity to say that !
Feeling clipped - [avian] feeling restless and anxious, like there's no way out
ex : Honestly these last few weeks have left me feeling clipped, between the news, and being dropped from my job. 
REPTILIAN
Makes my scales itch - (draconic) said about something unsettling or that just feels wrong deep down, a gut feeling that something's wrong
ex: We should get out of here. This place is making my scales itch.
Blow fire - (draconic) be extremely angry about something
ex: Did you hear what went down the other day? John was really blowing fire at Derek over that one.
Rattle someone's scales - (draconic) to unsettle or upset someone
ex: Can't stand that guy, he really rattles my scales. 
Cloudy day - (reptilian) usually used as a question, if someone is acting tired or unusual. Like how reptiles need the sun to stay warm, if it’s cloudy, they can’t warm up.
ex: woah, cloudy day? You look like you haven’t slept in months.
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daydaydayrk420 · 3 days
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Pleasure
Winter Soldier (Bucky Barnes) X mutant male reader
⚠️ brainwashed soldiers, using each other for pleasure, wounds, behind bars, breeding, I'm using Google translate if I got something wrong in Russian you can inform me ⚠️
🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨
______________________________________________________________
The Winter Soldier and The Demon.
They are two of the best Hydra assassins out there. Of course, the people who know the stories or rumors only think it's just a ghost story.
But they're wrong.
The only thing they don't know is that even though they're trained and brainwashed assassins they still get horny. Almost like they're in a rut because they don't have the needed contact unless they're allowed.
Which is what's happening now. The soldier is walking around in his cell. Fresh bruises formed on his back. He was training earlier but he couldn't properly think because of how sexually frustrated his mind was. Which of course got him in trouble. He got some beating with cop bats and sent back to his cell.
Bucky is pacing back and forth. He can't touch himself. He doesn't like it. He needs his ass filled instead. He wants to be bred. You could say he's practically in heat.
"солдат (soldier)," one of the guards called out as he opened the cell door. The soldier looked towards him and noticed his assassin partner following behind him. "Вы оба возбуждены, ��ак собаки. К черту это. (You're both horny like dogs. Fuck it out.)" The guard said as he closed the door once the demon walked in.
The other assassin known as the demon is just standing there with his usual cold expression and wearing a muzzle that he can't remove. He's not allowed to because when it's off he bites others and uses the poison he has because of his mutation. The soldier knows that personally, He has a few scars from earlier days. He can see that the demon also has fresh wounds from a whip. He must've gone through the same problem.
The soldier doesn't hesitate. He wants to fuck and he wants it bad. He doesn't care who is it with. He grips the demon's shirt, pulls him closer, and kisses the muzzle. The muzzle has special material that won't soak the venom but it's thin enough that the soldier can feel his lips. The demon groans and rips their clothes off.
The soldat takes charge and takes them to the cot that's probably going to break any time soon. But the demon doesn't like that so he flips them and pushes the soldier onto the cot instead. He pins his hands above his head and kisses his neck through his muzzle.
The metal armed man moans and arches into it. When he's in this state of mind his body is so sensitive a simple scratch makes his dick twitch.
The demon lines up. They're both too horny to care for prep. The soldier only watches the demon with desperation. They both moan the moment their bodies are connected.
The demon doesn't wait and starts moving almost instantly. They both moan, pant and whine like horny animals.
Some guards snicker to themselves as they walk by. But the two assassins don't care. They just need to breed. Muffled slurs and curses in russian fill the room as the two men go at it like beasts. The cot starts to freak and hit the wall. But do they care? No. Intact, they want to break the cot. If it means they get more adrenaline and can go however rough they need? So what the cot breaks.
They will get punished for breaking furniture obviously but at the moment they couldn't care less.
The soldier claws at the demos back. The cot starts to creak. "Не останавливайся, блядь!" The metal armed man cried out as he started to get closer to his climax. The demon groans in response and lifts the others legs over his elbows.
A loud thump fills the room as the cot collapses. The assassins catch themselves thanks to muscle memory. One they loaded they got back to fucking. Two guards run towards the cell to check on what that sound was but once they see that their weapons just keep on fucking they silently curse under their breaths.
The demon's hips start to stutter. It doesn't take long before the soldier spills his cum over their bellies. His metal hand punches a hole in the wall without him thinking about it. He's too overwhelmed from the long needed climax. The demon is not far behind. He gives his last few powerful thrusts before he collapses on top of the soldier and fills him up with his cum.
The two catch their breaths. They both stare into nothingness as they feel that their minds are suddenly corrupted. Are these emotions? What's this warm buzzing in their bellies?
Y/n is teg first to move. He slowly wraps his arms around the metal armed man. Are they cuddling? This can't be happening. Right? They're brainwashed machines they shouldn't be able to feel.
Bucky is next to move. He also slowly wraps his arms around y/n. Seeking more of the warmth that fills his body because of him. What is happening? They both think. Y/n lifts his head up a bit so he can look into Bucky's eyes. They're... Lovely. He's used to seeing those blue eyes as cold with no emotions behind them..but now? He sees someone else. He sees Bucky.
Bucky is conflicted. Who's looking at him? Whose eyes are these? He reaches up. He wants to remove the muzzle even though he knows he can't. Y/n's eyes flutter closed at the strange feeling of... comfort?
"Эй! Поднимайте свои задницы и идите в душ!" One of the guards yelled and banged on the bars.
The assassins reacted immediately and stood up. They grabbed their clothes and walked to the door and waited for the guard to lead them to the showers.
Do they remember that sweet moment? No. Will it happen again? Who knows. But whatever happened there. It corrupted the brainwash. Maybe one day they'll escape this place.
One day.
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fuck-customers · 3 days
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⭐ I work in a specialty hospital for pets. We take care of cats and dogs with issues like cancer, heart disease, and major injuries, to name a few. We're not a regular vet where you go for checkups. It isn't unusual to see bills costing thousands of dollars. The smallest bill I regularly see is still $200+, while the biggest I've ever seen was more than $20k (that was a single visit, not counting the thousands they spent before getting to that point). All that said, I still hear from clients that we're cheaper than our closest competitor. It's just an expensive business to be in.
As you can probably guess, there's a lot of heartache in this business. While most of our clients can afford the $200 first visit, many can't afford to follow through on their pet's treatment, regardless of how much they love them. Which means they have to make very difficult decisions, or, more realistically, those decisions are made for them based on their financial realities. So while it's painted as a choice, it really isn't.
And that's the worst part. The fact that they're here at all is proof that they deeply love their fur baby and want them to get better. And we're telling them it IS possible, but we need that $$$. And that sucks. That SUCKS.
That all brings us to today. A new client came over to pay his $1,500 bill (which I personally could not do, so he's clearly better off than I am) and starts complaining about the pricing. I don't set the prices, but I understand wanting to complain. But then he said "what happens when someone can't pay?"
And it's like. I mean. It's not some mystery. It's quite easy to figure out on your own. If someone can't pay, then their pet doesn't get treatment. If their pet doesn't get treatment..... well, that depends on the specific issue, but a lot of the time it means they die. Maybe not immediately, but they're on their way, y'know? If they can't pay, they go home.
So I'm trying to tastefully explain that, and he gets more upset and starts yelling that our prices are killing pets. That we could save more pets if we lowered our prices.
GOLLY GEE, WHY DIDN'T WE EVER THINK ABOUT LOWERING THE PRICES? IT MUST BE BECAUSE WE DON'T CARE ABOUT PETS. WE DON'T CARE ABOUT POOR PEOPLE. IT DEFINITELY ISN'T BECAUSE THIS IS THE REALITY UNDER CAPITALISM AND WE'RE DOING OUR BEST. AND OF COURSE OF COURSE OF COURSE, ALL OF THIS IS MY FAULT, SPECIFICALLY. CLEARLY I, AN ENTRY-LEVEL EMPLOYEE, AM THE ONE MAKING THESE DECISIONS, AND IF YOU MAKE ME FEEL BAD ENOUGH, I'LL FIX IT.
Jfc man. Go yell at someone higher up. Go yell at your elected officials and demand universal healthcare for pets. But this shit is already hard enough, and yelling at me while also asking very emotional questions isn't remotely productive. Fuck you. I hope your dog is doing better.
Posted by admin Rodney
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four-loose-screws · 3 days
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Hi! I’ve seen people people say that Dimitri speaks in an informal rude manner in Japanese so him being super polite in English is weird changes his character a lot, but I’ve also seen people say the localization is just fine. Could you clear up please? Thank you!
This ask has been in my inbox forever, and I know other ENG/JP bilingual FE fans have weighed in on this topic before. But exploring the nuances of Japanese formal vs. casual speech is always super fun, so I want to share my own thoughts too. There's always a chance there will be more to learn with each new person's input on the same topic. Plus, I discovered some things even I didn't expect! So, I'll still offer everything I have to say!
First, I'll explain the full background this ask is referring to. Japanese has 2 major distinct speaking styles - casual and formal. I was taught to call the formal style "distal" - because it is more about respecting distance in social standing than being formal specifically. But formal is the more common term, so I tend to stick with saying formal most of the time.
The distinction between casual and formal is made with pronoun choice, word choice, and other factors as well, but the fastest way to differentiate the two is to look/ listen for the use of desu and masu at the end of someone's sentences. Formal uses them. Casual drops them. This concept is entirely foreign to English speakers!
Dimitri drops desu and masu most of the time. His "I pronoun" is also ore, and his "you pronoun" is omae - both casual, blunt, and masculine choices. But does speaking casually to most of the cast make him rude?
Short answer is... no, not at all! There's 2 major reasons for this.
Reason #1 - the rules for casual vs. formal speech are a bit different in reality vs. fiction:
Partially, Dimitri speaks casually because he is showing his personality. He's got all those traits most standard FE protagonists share - he's strong, straightforward, and wants to connect directly on a personal level with everyone he meets. He tries to convince several characters that they can speak casually with him, because he sees people as people, and doesn't want social status putting distance between them.
Fictional characters generally speak more in-line with their personality more often, rather than following the socially acceptable speaking rules of the real world. (Though don't get me wrong - casual real Japanese people will speak casually in more circumstances than the average Japanese person.) This is simply the style that Japanese writers largely choose. And I think it is one of the great benefits of Japanese - anyone can start to pick up on a character's personality archetype almost instantly, thanks to their speaking style!
Reason #2 - Dimitri is a prince, making him of high social rank:
Here's the second nuance to this - it is absolutely standard for a superior to talk to their subordinates in casual style.
In modern times, this is shown in the workplace. Bosses and those in other leadership positions will frequently speak casually with the staff in a lower-ranking position than them. The president of the office I now work at is Japanese, and he speaks very casually with me - I have to be formal in response though, because he's at the top!!
But in the past, this would have been a distinction made between lord/ royalty, and those beneath them. Which is the case that is relevant in Fire Emblem's setting.
Dimitri can also speak casually without coming off as rude, because he is one of the highest ranking people across all of Fodlan.
-
Okay, so that's the answer in broad strokes - but let's get a bit more nuanced, go down Dimitri's support partner list, and confirm whether or not he always speaks casually!
Group #1 - Dimitri and the other citizens of Faerghus (8 other Blue Lions + Gilbert)
Dimitri has a multi-layered relationship with all of the other 8 Blue Lions. They are citizens of the country he is a prince of, therefore he is ranked very highly in social standing above them. But they are also his friends, classmates, and later, war allies; placing them on the same social level in that regard. So the way they speak to him comes down to a little bit of column A - personality, and a little bit of column B - which aspect of their relationship with Dimitri they feel is the "main" one.
Gilbert is also here in this category, as another person from Faerghus.
Dedue: Dimitri speaks casually, Dedue speaks formally, as they have a lord/ servant relationship. Dimitri wants Dedue to be a very close friend to him though, and wants Dedue to speak casually with him - this is a major source of tension in their supports. In the end, being able to mutually speak casually with each other and be friends, is a place they may reach one day. With other characters, Dedue speaks casually.
Felix: As royalty above Felix's noble house, Dimitri speaks casually. Felix is Felix, so he speaks casually too. I imagine he sees Dimitri quite literally as more of a wild boar than a human being, much less royalty.
Ashe: Dimitri speaks casually, Ashe speaks formally. However, pretty much the whole point of their supports is Dimitri attempting to get Ashe to speak casually with him.. Ashe tries in earnest to switch, but in the end sticks with speaking formally, otherwise he feels too uncomfortable. His view of Dimitri as his prince is too strong for him to let go and speak casually.
Sylvain: Dimitri speaks casually, and Sylvain speaks casually more often, but actually switches to desu and masu more than once. When a relationship is "in-between" higher/lower social standing and friendship, it's not uncommon for at least one person to switch back and forth between casual and polite speech, depending on which side of the relationship they are appealing to more at the moment. This happens in real life too as people shift from strangers, coworkers, etc. to friends.
Mercedes: They both speak casually. In Mercedes' case, I think she's speaks more in-line with her personality rather than paying attention to social status.
Annette: Both speak casually, but Annette is well aware that there's something a little wrong with that - her father would never let her get away with it if he knew!
Ingrid: Dimitri speaks casually, Ingrid speaks formally. But I think Ingrid speaks formally with everyone.
Gilbert: As you can probably guess based on my comments in Dimitri and Annette's analysis, her father most certainly speaks formally with Dimitri! He is very formal and takes social heirarchy very seriously. Dimitri, as the prince above him in social status, speaks casually.
Group #2 - The other characters at the monastary:
Since the remaining characters are not from Faerghus, Dimitri is not their prince. They'll be more likely to view him through the lens of a different relationship than royalty/ subject.
Catherine is originally from Faerghus yes, but she has cut her ties from her homeland completely to serve Rhea, so she fits into this group now.
Raphael: Both speak casually. I think Raphael treats everyone like a life-long friend!! He at least attaches san or sensei (teacher) to the names of his instructors, but that's about it for formal language for him.
Marianne: Dimitri speaks casually. Marianne speaks formally, as she does with everyone. I think she even attaches san to everyone's name, conveying how much she keeps her distance from people, trying not to form close relationships.
Flayn: Dimitri speaks casually. Flayn speaks formally, as I think she does with everyone.
Hapi: Both speak casually. I think Hapi speaks casually with everyone.
Alois: Now *here's* where things get interesting! At this point, I really thought I would discover that Dimitri speaks casually with everyone. But alas, he does NOT! Dimitri speaks formally with Alois, while Alois speaks casually to him. Why? Well, while Dimitri is a prince, he's also a student at Garreg Mach (in Part 1 of course). In this way, he is below all Garreg Mach staff and professors in social standing. So it makes perfect sense that he'd speak formally and Alois would be casual in this case.
Catherine: Same situation as Dimitri and Alois - as someone who serves as an instructor at Garreg Mach, all students like Dimitri are below her in status at the monastary. So Dimitri speaks formally, and she speaks casually.
Byleth: I left Byleth for last, because while Byleth is a professor at the monastary... Dimitri speaks casually with them. I imagine this has more to do with Byleth being the self insert than anything. Everyone bonds to Byleth on a deep level faster than magnets stick together.
And that's all I can think of to say for now! This is a super fun example of how nuanced Japanese's casual vs. formal language can get, and showcases one of the many reasons why Japanese has such a high barrier of entry for anyone learning it - including young native speakers! You don't get all this desu and masu stuff, until finally you just do.
Let me know if I missed anything, or if anyone has any follow up comments to make!
I apologize it took me so long to respond to this one! Thank you anon, and all readers, for waiting! I hope it helped explain even more of the trickier nuances of Japanese.
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bluecollarmcandtf · 15 hours
Text
M O O N L I G H T ™
Chapter III
It's late, and the last thing I expect to find at my nightly workout is my little bro, dressed up like a personal trainer. He looks ridiculous in that cheesy uniform, not to mention the light pouring out of his skull and the smile stamped into his face! I guess the little idiot signed up for Moonlight™: that was one helluva mistake!
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"Good evening, sir," my brother speaks as if we hadn't grown up together, "Is there any way I can aid your fitness journey tonight?"
Hearing Ryan call me 'sir' brings a devious grin to my own face. I've bullied this kid for years, and now he's kissing my ass like well-trained puppy. Thanks to Moonlight™, my annoying little bro is just a mind controlled employee who doesn't realize his brother's here, let alone embarrassing him! I wish I could get my entire family implanted with these little Moonlight™ things. Messing with them would be hilarious!
"Oh yeah," I sneer, "And what's string bean gonna do for a guy like me?"
"Well, sir, as a personal trainer here at Planet Fitness, I'll gladly demonstrate how to use the machines, spot patrons with heavy-lifting, and return equipment when finished."
God, he sounds even more annoying than usual! "You really think a someone like you could spot me?" I scoff and bring my bicep to his face, flexing it inches away from his perpetually open eyes.
"Actually, sir, this body can lift 260 lbs on the bench press without injury. The load you have is well-enough below to ensure that I may be of service. Still sir, the weight you're lifting is a very respectable amount," Ryan's smile beamed at me, but mine fell.
"Whatever, I'll be fine," I retort, "Just stand over there and mop up my sweat when I'm done."
"Yes, sir."
My little brother takes a step back as I get ready to lift. As stupid as he looks, standing there waiting on me to finish, he also looks pretty fit. His company polo might be sweaty and gross, but it's tight against his improving physique. He's clearly been lifting a lot while he's been working here, but his gains should not count if Moonlight™ is the one actually working out that pathetic little body! The only way he could bulk up was by becoming a fucking puppet! Talk about sad!
"Fuck!" I grunt, tossing the barbell back as I finish. I did a few extra sets to prove a point and now my arms are on fire. "Towel!" I snap.
"Yes, sir," Ryan rushes over and wipes the sweat off my brow. I just laugh in his face.
"I think I got some sweat on my sneakers too," I jab, "You can wipe them off and then put twenty more pounds on the bar."
"Of course, sir."
My brother gets on his knees with the towel, giving my sneakers a cursory buff. I don't know what personal trainer has shoe-shining in his job description, but I've heard these Moonlight™ employees can be pretty pliant. Apparently, you can make them do quite a bit with the loopholes in their programming. Maybe I can get Ryan here to do something even more embarrassing than polishing his big bro's shoes!
The next week, I worked out every night.
Turns out, bullying my little bro was great motivation to go to the gym! When I saw him during the day, I never mentioned the fact that I knew; didn't want to scare him off. At night, I had every opportunity to take out my frustrations on him. If he pissed me off during the day, I could boss him around at the gym, ordering him to follow me around and wipe down every piece of equipment. I could call him whatever names I wanted and yell at him as loudly as I pleased; he had to just stand there with the best customer service smile and say "yes, sir."
Playing around with Ryan was fun, but it wasn't until I went out for a drink that I ran into my second brother. I guess he had the same idea to get hired with Moonlight™...
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"Can I fix you a drink, sir?" my brother, the middle child, yells over the club's EDM.
"What the hell?" I shout, "Ryan's dumb enough to Moonlight™, but I didn't think you were!"
Sam just stares back with the same flashlight eyes and widely stretched lips. Of course his programming won't let him do anything outside of bartending! He's probably not even conscious in there! Ryan was always a bit of an impulsive twerp, so I wasn't surprised to see him Moonlighting™, but Sam is different. He'd said he'd never put his body to work at night. Something about the behavior of Moonlighters™ always rubbed him the wrong way...I guess he changed his mind.
"A round of beers," I tell him, warily gesturing to the back corner, "For me and our crew."
Sam's glowing stare looks over my shoulder and sees our friends, the guys we both hang out with, "Yes, sir. I'll have it right out for you."
I return to our pals, anxious for my brother to follow. Sam is only a year younger than myself, so we run around with the same crowd, yet he didn't recognize any of our buds. Now he's about to serve them like a fucking waiter. My catatonic brother is about to walk into the most humiliating situation of his life. I just get to sit back and watch!
"Sam?" one of them asks a moment later.
"Here are your beers, sir," my brother plucks the bottles off his tray and sets them out for each of his friends, completely oblivious to their stunned reactions, "Is there anything else I can get any of you?"
"Holy crap, dude!" another pal turns to me, "Since when did your brother start Moonlight? He looks like a total idiot!"
Sam doesn't seem to register the insult.
"I don't know man," I laugh, "Tonight, I guess."
"Fetch us some napkins," one guy quips with an amused flick of his hand.
"Right away, sir." Sam answers a little too promptly, and whisks away.
"Right away, sir, Ha!" the guy repeats with a mock salute, "We've gotta mess with him!"
Sam returns, obediently passing out napkins, but I'm finding it harder to meet his gaze while he's grinning so manically. This situation is starting to feel more awkward than hilarious. These guys will never let him live this down!
"Sam, get over here and give this paying customer a sloppy BJ!"
My brother stiffens, and for a second a jolt of fear runs down my spine, terrified that Moonlight™ will actually make him comply. Pranks are all good and fun, but I do not want to see my brother about to blow another dude!
"I apologize, sir," he finally resumes, "That is not part of my responsibilities as bartender."
Thank God.
"Then get something to clean this up," he laughs wildly, "You spilled my beer!" Our friend then pours half his drink on the crotch of his jeans, staring at Sam with the amused eyes of a drunk fool. This guy always gets weird after a few drinks. I don't know why we still bring him along. Normally, we just ignore him.
"Of course, sir," Sam answers attentively.
For the next ten minutes, I sit in silent horror as my brother returns with a rag, proceeding to get on his knees and wipe down another man's crotch with painful dedication. Of course, our friends are all howling with laughter at this point, taking video evidence that they can embarrass Sam with later.
It feels like a lifetime, but Sam finally stands up, "I hope I cleaned that up well enough for you, sir."
The guy feels at his wet jeans, saying, "I don't know if that's good enough, bitch."
"I'm sorry, sir, let me try ag-"
"No! It's my turn," someone else cuts in, pushing his way to the front, "You spilled some on my ass that needs cleaned up!"
The gang loses it, doubling over with laughter as Sam prepares to spend the next ten minutes wiping down another guy's ass, but I've had enough, "No! We're done here, thank you. Go close our tab," I bark.
"Yes, sir," Sam turns on his heel. His dumb obedience is more disturbing than entertaining at this point.
Our friends all give me a hard time for sending him away, but I'm not having it. Maybe I'm not drunk enough, but they're enjoying this a lot more than I am. At this point, I'm ready to call it a night and go home, so I say my goodbyes and head for the exit.
The walk home isn't a far one, but I pass a few notable places on the way: one being my dad's dark office building. Our old man has been working late nights there lately. In the dimly lit lobby, I recognize someone...
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"Dad?" I gasp.
"Good evening, sir," my father says to me without any note of familiarity in his voice.
"Wait, you're moonlighting too?" it comes out as more of an accusation, but at this point I'm fed up with finding family members secretly working random mind-controlled night jobs.
"I am a security guard employed through the Moonlight™ corporation," his gravelly voice sounds foreign, delivering these programmed prompts, "If you'd like, sir, I can help you apply for a Moonlight™ position, and you can start making the most of your sleeping hours too!"
"Why the fuck did you think this was a good idea, dad?" I ask, knowing this stupid security guard persona isn't capable of answering.
"He didn't."
The voice of someone else in the room sends shivers down my spine. I whip around, and see a gangly, middle-aged man stepping forward.
"Jeff?"
"Hi, Jamie," my uncle says, sauntering up to his far taller brother and resting an arm on his shoulder. My dad's attentive posture doesn't waver. He just keeps on acting like the perfect sentry for the building and the perfect armrest for his brother.
"Do you mind telling me what's going on!?"
He sniffles and sighs like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "Yes, I suppose this charade of mine was doomed to be found out sooner or later. I put your father in the Moonlight™ database. He was just wasting his sleeping hours at home in his bed, and he'd always refuse to let me sign him up, so I did it in secret. He makes a great guard. Right Tom?"
Uncle Jeff claps my dad on the back, prompting him to announce a proud, "Yes, sir!"
"See," my uncle turns back to me, "No harm done. Your old man gets paid to stand around in his sleep. Its harmless!"
"But he doesn't know!" I yell, seething at my uncle's sheer abuse of his place in the company, "This has to be illegal, and are you just pocketing Dad, Ryan, and Sam's salaries?"
He rolls his eyes, "I am right now, but the four of you don't even make that much."
"Did you just say the four of us?" I grunt.
"Oops," he holds a hand to his forehead and curses under his breath.
"AM I FUCKING MOONLIGHTING WHILE I SLEEP TOO?" I am screaming at this point, "You're fucked up!" I bark. Angrily, I stomp towards my uncle, but my father takes a firm step planting himself between me and the man. His steady palm is holding the baton at his belt, making me nervous. Is my dad about to beat me up for this creep?
"Excuse me, sir," my dad smiles at my uncle, "Would you like me to escort this man out of the building?"
"That won't be necessary," my uncle says, "I'll just trigger his Moonlight™ shift to start now. You can go back to standing in the corner"
"Yes, sir," my security guard father answers placidly, returning to his attentive stance.
"You wouldn't," I snarl.
"Oh, trust me, I will. As I understand it, overriding a subject's body while awake means you'll be fully conscious. I'll work on something to make you forget this whole incident later."
He presses a few buttons on an ipad, and suddenly my vision is engulfed in a purple haze. My back straightens, my muscles relax, and I feel my face contorts into a giant smile. Suddenly, my entire body seems to be gone from my grasp, and I'm constrained to a tiny space in my head while something else takes over.
"Enjoy your shift," my uncle snickers with a glare.
"Thank you, sir. I will," I feel my voice pushed out of my throat with an excited tone that isn't mine. Before I know it, my legs are carrying me away from my uncle, leaving him with my father, to march down the dark street...
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"Here's your order, sir," my voice has the trademarked Moonlight™ eagerness in it as I reach out the window and hand over the meal.
"Fuck off, sleep-freak!" the teen in the driver's seat flips me off, making his immature friends cackle as they speed off. I can't do anything but smile and watch as they weave away. They have no idea I'm actually conscious in here.
After being forced to leave my uncle, I found myself striding into a fast food restaurant through its backdoor. I could instantly tell the place wasnt anywhere I'd eat at because the dumpster smelled like soggy fries and old meat. The kitchen was a fluorescent-lit pit, with a thick feeling of oil hanging in the air. I could barely take in the surroundings before I was changing out of my clothes by some lockers. I was horrified that Moonlight™ was making me fucking strip, but before long my hands were pulling on new clothes: a uniform. The polo felt like it'd been sitting at the bottom of the locker since the last shift, drying in sweat, and the pants were sticky with something unidentifiable. I was mortified to be pulling on a fucking hairnet and apron, but I had no choice.
"Blondie's here early," a smoker's voice purred from behind me. I had a bad feeling he'd been standing there for a while, watching.
"Hello boss," my voice answers, apparently recognizing the overweight, unshaved creep, "I'm ready to start my shift, sir! Where am I needed today?"
I watched as the man licked his stubbly lips, his beady eyes crawling all over me. Without any shame, his sweaty palm groped the growing bulge in his khakis. He was obviously happy to see me, and he probably thought I couldn't actually see him! I guess, every fucking night that my uncle's made me work in my sleep, I've been under the supervision of THIS pervert!?
"Get to the fryer," his scratchy throat moaned, "You know I want you to get nice and sweaty for later."
"Yes, sir. I'll be sure to work up a sweat for you," I answer, confused and disturbed by my response. The cheer in my voice did not match the overwhelming gloom I felt when the man slapped my ass. His hand lingered on my rear for too long, but I couldn't even frown.
Since then, I've been boiling fries and flipping burgers. Every so often I have to hand an order out the window, but my heart races every time I do. Three orders ago, the customer threw their soda back at my coworker, he's a fairly average guy in his thirties, and he was dowsed in Coca-Cola. It didn't keep Moonlight™'s programming from working: he just kept manning the grill, smiling, eyes glowing, and hair dripping with cherry flavored juice.
"Ouch!" at least, that's what I want to say. The oil sizzles and pops, and a few drops of hot grease splatter onto my arm, but I don’t flinch. The control won’t let me.
Suddenly I feel someone leaning in behind me. My spine shivers as my manager says, "It's closing time, Blondie. I'll send everyone home so you and I can clean up like usual." He whispers it in my ear, with his flabby arms wrapped around me like we're fucking lovers! I wish I could vomit!
"Sounds good, boss," I find myself saying.
One by one, the manager dismisses each of my moonlighting coworkers. I can't help but feel jealous as they strip out of their uniforms by the door. It isn't just that they get to leave; they also have the luxury of not knowing what's going on. They're all asleep. I'd give anything to at least be unaware of whatever this fucking pervert is about to do!
My body is preoccupied with whatever shit needs to be done for closing, wiping down the tables, taking out the trash, and more.
"Mop time," the manager suddenly announces, holding the raggedy thing out expectantly.
"Yes, sir," my voice answers, and I drop what I'm doing to accept the mop. The crotch of his pants is unzipped, but my bodies already turned away from him, turning all my attention to swab the tiles floor.
"You're doing it wrong again, Blondie," he purrs slowly, "I'm gonna have to help you like usual."
"Thank you, sir," my voice sounds grateful, but I am anything but. The pervert presses his rotund body against my back and holds my muscular arms with his own chubby ones. I can feel his penis poking into me below his gut, but my body accepts his touch like he's just a boss helping out an employee.
I guess this asshole found a loophole in Moonlight™'s fucking programming. He's going to touch me all he wants under the guise of demonstrating the right way to mop.
The creep spends the next ten minutes guiding my arms back and forth. "Fuck, you're bubble butt feels even better than usual, Blondie," he breathes in my ear. If I had control of my muscles, he wouldn't stand a chance, but right now, they're putty in my boss's arms. Meanwhile, his waist gets busy dry humping his chode into my rear end. "I'm so glad a jock like you was dumb enough to try Moonlight!" he grunts, his tongue dangerously close to my ear. I can only thank God that he can't take my pants off! After several painful minutes of him spitting more disgusting comments onto my cheek, his arms drop mine and plant themselves on my chest. His hands sloppily grope my pecs and pinch my nipples. I've never felt more pathetic. The man makes one final exclamation, "FUUUCK!" and I can tell he has finally gotten off.
"Thanks for the help, boss," I find myself saying.
With heavy breaths, he staggers back. The sudden open air on my back makes me realize just how hot and sweaty that slob was, and I can feel the slimy remnants of his balls slipping down my back and legs.
"Good job as always, Blondie," he breathes heavily with satisfaction.
"Thank you, sir," I answer. My voice hasn't lost its awful chipper quality, and my face is still stuck in a smile like I hadn't just been taken advantage of.
"Finish mopping up, and then you can lock up and clock out," he winks as if we shared some inside joke. I hate that all he sees is my smile.
"Yes, sir," I answer, but the creep has already waddled out of the building and slammed the door shut.
The sudden silence is unbearable. It makes the monotonous task of mopping the sticky floors all the more unpleasant. What's worse is that I can't pause to wash the manager's cum off my back. It soaks into my pants as I work, trapped in my own body. At least I know why these pants are so sticky. Honestly, I hope Uncle Jeff will wipe my memory...
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pomrania · 3 days
Text
In anticipation of Halloween, I want to draw pets wearing the costumes their humans wish they (the pets) would wear. This art event is open to mutuals, long-time followers, and special exceptions only; everyone else is welcome to reblog this, and any artwork I post here, but not to make a request. Requests will be open up to and including 25 September 2024, closing when it's no longer that date anywhere in the world. See below the cut for details.
To make a request, it's the same thing as for my other art events; reblog this post, add in a photo of the pet plus the pet's name, and how you want me to draw the critter. Here, it's "what costume you want me to draw them wearing". I don't have much experience with that, so you'll need to be specific, because my skill doesn't yet extend to "what would look good" for this. You don't have to include a photo of the desired costume, but I need more than "something cute" or "whatever you think would be funny".
Currently, it's one request per person for this particular event; if I decide to expand that, I'll make a reblog saying as much, and edit this. But even if it'd be allowed to make a second (or third etc) request, my general policy of "you can only make a subsequent request once your current request has been completed" still holds.
One critter per request; if you give me a photo with two critters in it, I'll only put one of them in costume, and I might not even draw the other critter.
For this event, "special exception" is someone who's been following me for at least a week, and they have an EXTREMELY fluffy pet (like a Pomeranian or a chinchilla) and that critter is the one who's getting drawn.
If you've been following me for multiple years, and interacting with my posts often enough that I'd recognize your url, you count as a long-time follower.
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oliversrarebooks · 21 hours
Text
a good grade in being brainwashed: wants and needs
Masterlist
tw: pet whump, bbu-adjacent, dehumanization, conditioning, references to drugging, references to dubcon
He was getting a good grade in being brainwashed, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve.
"He seems a little clingy, though."
B211's heart sank into his knees. He knew that was one of the absolute worst things a prospective owner could say about him, the very thing his handlers had spent so much time trying to train out of him. Don't cling. Don't be needy. Be affectionate, but only when your owner desires it. Be silent and still and obedient otherwise.
Don't be needy. Don't need. Don't want. Wants are for people. Your only wish is to please your owner.
He didn't miss the nasty glare that the salesman shot him before putting his customer service smile back on his face. "Yes, this one is very affectionate, which isn't to everyone's taste. Perhaps you'd be more interested in this Romantic…"
B211 fought down the whine in his throat as the customer removed her hand from his chin and walked over to one of the other Romantics, A797. He watched as A797 flawlessly executed each position, all with a smile that was just loving enough without seeming desperate. Just the way they'd all been taught.
God, B211 hated him.
B211 knew he could be the best Romantic in this whole damn showroom, if only he could be given a chance. He'd worked so hard at his training and conditioning, absorbing everything thrown at him, always striving to be the best in the room. He knew his quality -- he was eager to please any sort of master in any way they wished, ready and willing to become whatever they wanted him to be. Their lover, their fantasy, their toy, their shoulder to cry on. He was confident he could do it all.
And yet, here he was, left in the lurch yet another day. If things didn't look up, he'd spend another night in his cold bunk. Another night where his training headphones whispered to him about how much he craved touch and affection. Another day where he had to fight down his cravings so he didn't scare off potential owners. Another failure, another denial.
It was enough to make him want to pull his hair out, if that wouldn't absolutely ruin his appeal.
"I think I'm going to talk to your handler about another course of conditioning. I don't know how it's possible, but you've still got too much willfulness in that head of yours."
B211 scrambled down into a kneel, touching his head to the floor, as soon as he realized that the salesman was addressing him. "My sincere apologies, sir. I will endeavor to do better," he said, reciting one of his hundreds of programmed phrases.
"I can tell when a pet's more concerned with his own needs instead of the customer's," said the salesman disdainfully. "Honestly, you could probably do with another round on the Drip, wash that right out of your head. I think that's what I'm gonna recommend."
"Yes, sir," said B211, his inner elbow twinging with the feel of a phantom needle. He knew very well that he should accept whatever medication, training, or punishment he was given, as it was all to make him a better pet. But he hated the way the Drip made him feel, the way his mind was so slow and dim now, compared to --
No, that wasn't right. His mind had always been slow and dim. That's why he was well suited to being a pet. That's what they'd told him, why he'd signed up. He was slow, and dim, and unable to cope with life, unable to pretend to be a person. So he'd done the right thing and signed up. Instead of an endless cycle of pain and disappointment, he'd receive unconditional love and affection from an owner who truly wanted him. All he had to do was follow his training. Simple instructions. Practice these poses. Recite these mantras. Speak politely. Let go of your wants. Let go of your needs. Be perfect.
That was all he had to do.
He didn't actually remember signing up, of course, because the Drip had erased his memories (how many times). It was best for a pet to not remember (what didn't they want him to remember) so he could be blank and empty for his owner to fill with love (what was he before he was blank).
(was he ever loved)
He shouldn't be thinking those thoughts. That's why he wasn't getting bought. Stupid, stupid.
"Well, B211? Do you have a problem with that?" the salesman demanded, pulling him back to reality.
"No, sir."
"Oh, I think you do. I can tell you have something to say. Out with it."
It was a trap. It was always a trap. He'd fallen into it before, he thought, although his memories of those times were hazy and tinged with pain. "I think whatever you and my handler decide for me would be best, sir."
He was being hauled upwards by his shirt, the salesman glaring down at him. "That's your problem. You shouldn't think. You should just get it right."
B211's mind searched for a better answer. Slow, too slow. "I want whatever training I'm given, sir. I want to be the best possible pet for my owner. I trust in my handlers to make me the best pet I can be."
"Better," he sneered.
The ring of a bell indicated another customer had arrived, sparing B211 the salesman's wrath for now. This particular salesman always liked to take it out on the pets when they weren't selling like he thought they should be.
All he wanted was to be touched and loved. Wasn't that what he had signed up for? He couldn't remember, of course, but that's the only thing it could have been. Why didn't anyone see that? Why didn't anyone pick him?
Maybe the salesman was right. Maybe he should go back on the Drip. He was thinking too much. Of course he was right -- his handlers always knew what was best for him.
"Oh, I'm not sure a Romantic is what I'm looking for, exactly," said a voice that was so strangely familiar. "I don't need -- I mean, I don't really have those kinds of needs."
B211 strained to hear the conversation in the other room, beyond the curtain separating the Romantic showroom from the rest of the pet store. That voice. He didn't know why, but wanted to hear more of that voice.
"There are a lot of unfortunate misconceptions about Romantics, and I'd say that the primary one is that they're only for sex," said the salesman. "That's absolutely not the case -- maybe ten years ago, but modern Romantics are so much more. They actually have much of the same programming as our platonic Companions, and even some Domestic capabilities. They're the perfect choice for a busy man who wants a little love in his life."
"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to take a look at them…"
The customer pushed aside the curtain leading to the Romantic showroom, and B211's heart stopped.
The man was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark skin and darker curls, and large, sparkling eyes that he could get lost in. He was handsome, very much so, but that wasn't what caused B211's breath to catch in his throat -- he saw many handsome customers. No, there was something about this one that ran deeper than his looks. B211 was seized with an inexplicable, undeniable desire -- this man absolutely had to buy him. This man should be his owner.
(But pets weren't supposed to have desires.)
The customer was staring at B211, too, but not in the way he would prefer. He looked as if he had just seen a ghost.
"Oh, I wouldn't recommend that one," said the salesman. "He's a bit more high maintenance than our other Romantics, and you're looking for a pet that's very independent, right? I'm sure a lawyer doesn't have that much time to spend entertaining a pet, which is why I'm going to recommend this model…"
The customer, the lawyer, let himself be pulled away from B211's case, and B211 was filled with bubbling rage towards the salesman. Something flashed in his mind, a memory, perhaps, of fighting, of kicking and screaming, of having to be held down by four people as the IV was inserted into his arm --
No, that wasn't right. That wasn't right at all. He couldn't hate the salesman, or the handlers, who only wanted the best for him. If the lawyer wasn't a good fit…
He swallowed the lump in his throat. Why was this so important? He'd been passed up by so many people, what was one more to him?
B211 couldn't help but watch the lawyer out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he seemed bored with the other models the salesman was showing him. Distracted. He glanced back at B211, who quickly lowered his eyes to the floor.
"I think I have just the right fit for you!" said a bubbly saleswoman, emerging from the front of the store. She was leading along a man in a slouchy t-shirt and jeans, who was looking around the Romantics showroom in awe, as though he'd never seen so many pets. The saleswoman stopped in front of B211's case. "He's a refurb, so he's available at a discount! He's very affectionate and quite intelligent for a pet."
"Well, he's not bad looking," said this new customer. "Pet, introduce yourself."
B211 snapped to practiced attention. "Hello, sir, my designation is B211, and I'm a Romantic designation with additional Companion training. I enjoy cooking, old movies, and cuddling, and I'm always open to new adventures!"
"Hmm, I'm not sure. He's not really my type. I was hoping for something a little more… demure, do you have anything like that?"
"Certainly, sir, right this way!"
Normally, B211 would be devastated at losing another prospective buyer, but this time, all he could think about was the lawyer. The lawyer who was currently standing in front of the showroom's most expensive pet, being given the hard sell.
"…and he can do anything you want, sir. He'll be there for you when you need companionship, and quiet and out of the way when you need space. He's fully automated and intelligent enough to serve as a personal assistant or run a household. And when it comes to his Romantic skillset… he's very easy to please, and very eager and capable of pleasing others. If this pet is within your budget, I think he'd be the best suited to your needs, sir."
His needs. What were the lawyer's needs? Pets didn't have needs, couldn't have needs. B211 knew he could do whatever that so-called premium model could. But the lawyer probably had more than enough money to go premium, and why would he buy a discounted refurb when he could buy a brand-new luxury model?
"He does seem like an ideal fit…" said the lawyer.
"Would you like to spend a little time with him? I'm sure once you do, you won't be leaving this showroom alone."
"Well… maybe… but I'm still interested in that one. The one I saw when I first came in."
And the lawyer looked straight at B211.
It was impossible, wasn't it? Why would he be interested in B211 when a premium model was an option? Did he actually recognize B211's value? Was that why he'd been so drawn to this man as an owner?
The lawyer walked his way. B211 tried his hardest to read the expression on his face -- an essential skill for Romantics, to be able to read their master's smallest emotions -- but came up short. He couldn't tell what this man was thinking at all.
But his eyes looked kind. And B211 felt…
It was a feeling he couldn't place. It wasn't happy, or aroused, or quiet, or agreeable. B211 suspected it was one of those feelings he wasn't supposed to be having, one that the Drip was supposed to wash out of him.
"Are you sure, sir?" said the salesman, trailing after him. "This one is a refurb, you know. That's why he's on a discount."
"A refurb? Do you know why he was returned?" The lawyer's eyes never left B211.
"Ah, his original owner simply found a new relationship, and was displeased with the amount of attention this Romantic required. He's been wiped of those memories, and we've done our best to train out his unfortunate need for attention, of course, but he'd be a risk compared to our premium models, which can all be customized just for you for only a small additional fee…"
The lawyer wasn't paying attention to the salesman at all as he continued his pitch. He seemed to be weighing something in his mind.
And B211 finally placed what that strange feeling was. Safe. The lawyer made him feel safe. It wasn't something he had felt in training. It was something much older, something he shouldn't remember.
"I want to buy this one," said the lawyer abruptly, cutting off the salesman's patter.
The salesman couldn't hide his shock. "Are you sure, sir? There's no rush. We'd be happy to put a model on hold for you for a small deposit if you'd like more time to make up your mind."
"I've made up my mind. I want this one." The uncertainty on his face from a moment ago was gone, his voice firm. Firm enough that B211 dared to hope.
"If you're certain, then… I'll draw up the paperwork. But keep in mind that we don't accept returns on refurbished pets."
"I won't be returning him."
And the lawyer smiled at B211, actually smiled.
And someone had finally seen him. Someone wanted him. Someone was going to love him.
All he had to do was not screw it the fuck up.
Masterlist
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many esteemed cycling mutuals are understandably looking at the... Everything about the recent gpogbling tweet, but as an incorrigible Noticer and part-time bike nerd i'd like to take a moment to talk about feet.
by which i mean cleats!
for those that don't know, they're components that screw to the bottom of cycling shoes, providing the interface between pedal and foot. many kinds exist but there are four brands used in the WT peloton (as far as i know)
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both UAE & Jayco use Shimano's SPD-SL system, but with some gratuitous zooming in on feet we can see that bling's cleats are red whilst tadej's are yellow
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this is down to the different float options offered by Shimano, “float” being how much you can adjust your foot position without unclipping (which is done by twisting the heel out away from the bike). yellow has the most freedom, red has none, and blue is intermediate. there's different axes of motion too but let's not get into that
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which colour to use is basically a matter of personal preference but you're a good deal less likely to spot reds at a local club than you are in the pro peloton because their lack of movement means the bike fit has to be 100% dialed-in to prevent joint pain -- the kind of precision you'd expect from teams at the top of the sport.
as far as i can tell blue seems to be pretty widespread among the Shimano-using teams. for but a few examples: adam yates, luke plapp, and MVDP's banged-up cleats following his crash in Glasgow (it's amazing he could still clip in with those)
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i would assume this is to balance the increased efficiency of power transfer that comes with decreased float whilst retaining enough freedom to allow comfortable adjustment over the course of long races.
bling uses the reds -- as expected for sprinters -- for maximal power transfer at high speeds, making every fraction of a watt count in a bunch sprint and keeping his legs/feet in the most efficient position without having to think about it
so initially i thought “perhaps tadej trains with yellow because they're more comfortable?”
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but no -- he races in them too: these are before and during Giro stages (couldn't quickly find any from TDF/Montréal/other races so if there's photos of him using different colours please do tell me!), so the relatively increased movement must suit his riding style and specific anatomy better than the other options
or maybe he just likes them 🤷 it's not something any of us can ever know but for a rumoured €8million/year i'd expect the team to investigate most possible avenues of ~marginal gains~.
and of course riders’ preferences change over time; adam used to use yellows‚ remco used to use blues (now reds), all this is just something i thought was interesting!!
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caitlinsgirl · 2 days
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Locked Eyes
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- summary: first person perspective of a sports journalist who is failing miserably at her job.
- warnings: implied d*rty thought
- word count; 771
- songs
softly by clairo
i think he knows by taylor swift
- note: i don't know shit about sports, so please feel free to correct any technical details i got wrong. i hope you enjoy!
              
               God is playing a joke on me. God is playing a sick, cruel joke on me. I am going to get fired from my job for this. My amazing, dream, well-paying job with amazing PTO and retirement benefits.
            Just for a short, close glimpse of her… and it might be worth it.
            I have been sitting at this courtside seat for over an hour. The players have started to warm up, but the plastic under my legs feels cold. The pencil in my hand is covered in nail marks from my grip, as if it could provide the mercy that I desperately need right now. A writer with nothing to write. Nothing but, God she's so beautiful, and, Is she making eye contact with me? Fuck, no, that's crazy, wait, did she just do it again?
            Otherworldly is an understatement. Beautiful is an understatement. Hot is closer to the truth. Stunning, breathtaking, striking… I cannot seem to find the words to describe the way Caitlin Clark's magnetism binds me helpless, speechless, and spineless. Each glance from her feels like an attempt to stop my heart from performing its function. Against my will, but with my delight, my eyes follow her tall figure as she runs up and down the court. How long are basketball games, again? Did a sports journalist just forget that minor detail?
            It was one thing to attend her games in person from a further seat in the arena. Now, sitting this close to her, it feels like I could reach out my hand and run my fingers through her sweaty pin-straight hair.
            The noise of the cheering crowd drowns into muffled white noise with every charming move. How hot it is when she gets upset with an opposing team member. The upset look on her face is unapologetic and confident. My heart beats faster at the sight of it, and I cannot help but to wonder what it would be like to be protected by her the way she protects herself, her team. Just a few feet away.
            God, it is almost annoying. Her unwavering resilience, her iron focus, her muscular arms and shoulders… I did not even know it was possible for a woman in this cruel world to be that comfortable in her own skin. Come to think of it, comfortable would be an insulting understatement. She is demanding the room and the thousands of people in it. I want to get up from my seat and run into her strong arms.
            My haze is interrupted by the sudden flurry of extra-loud cheers from the crowd. One of the Indiana Fever's players scored, and I was too preoccupied with player 22 to notice. Caitlin was not the one to advance the scoreboard, but her infectious satisfaction and desire to win lights up the room. She moved her arms upwards, hyping up the crowd’s collective energy in the reveling of victory. Thank you, God, for allowing my eyes adjust the scene to slow motion; her strong shoulders, her long muscular arms, leading up to her pale long fingers… I watch her hands in the air and my lungs give up when I see the way that her middle two fingers stick to each other. Could that be muscle memory?
            Then, she remembers. I see it on her face the millisecond before she turns her head to look at me, again. Look at me, again. Look at me, look at me, no one else me. She remembers I exist, and it matters enough to break her concentration of the game onto me.
            I wonder what she sees when she catches my view. Does she see the way my cheeks have been flushed in amazement this entire game? How stupid I look with my lips slightly parted with desire? How my ankles cross over each other with school-girl hesitation? She holds our eye contact for a few seconds, and they feel like blissful eternity. It was like the crowd, players, and professionals melted into the floor. The roof sinks upwards to reveal a Paris starry night, and she is the angel standing across the street, manifested just for me.
            My girlish desire paints itself over my face and my lips melt into a smile, a smile that says I adore you. My writing hand, pencil still in hand, reaches up to my hair to fidget with the ends. In an instant, our moment is interrupted by her game. She focuses again, but with a lingering and flattered smile. Could it be the adrenaline, could it be all that running? Her cheeks are flushed the same color as her uniform.
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mattyriddlesbitch · 2 days
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The Princess and The Knight(Chapter Two)
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader
Warnings: mentions of the basilisk
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By your second year, Mattheo had made a reputation of being a dick and getting into fights. Many people avoided him, only his few friends you met on the train on the way to Hogwarts talked with him.
And you. You tried, at least. He would give short replies the whole time. ‘Yes’ ‘No’ ‘Maybe’ ‘I don’t know’ ‘Okay’ “Whatever’ That was pretty much his whole vocabulary with you.
His friends were okay with you. Not particularly friendly or went out of their way for you, but they weren’t rude to you and you were never one of their targets, which you were thankful for.
Second year started, and that was the year that there was something roaming Hogwarts, killing students. You were terrified, as any normal person would be.
You sat down in Potions next to Mattheo the day after the first attack, still a bit shaken up from the news.
“Did you hear about what happened?” You asked Mattheo as you started setting up your things for class.
“With the cat? Yes.” Mattheo answered, seeming unphased.
“I can’t believe something like that could happen here.” You said, shaking your head in disbelief.
“It's just a cat. It'll be fine, probably.” Mattheo shrugged.
“What if it happens to a student though?” You ask, leaning forward to lean on the desk.
“Are you scared?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you, like he was confused about your reaction.
“Well, yeah. That could've happened to anybody. That's terrifying.”
“You don't have to be scared. Nothing's gonna happen to you.” His expression softened slightly.
“How can you be so sure? How are you not scared?” You asked, confused about his laid back attitude about it all.
He shrugged again, refusing to answer the questions. “Do you need me to protect you? Will that make you feel safe?” He asked in a sarcastic tone.
It almost took you back for a second. He was sarcastic with you often, but the question caught you off guard. But you quickly recovered. “Aw, are you offering to be my knight in shining armor?” You smiled at him.
He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “As if. You're not a princess, you know.”
“Only princesses get knights then?”
“Correct.”
You were about to respond, but Snape spoke up, starting his lesson.
After some more attacks, the school implemented a rule that you couldn’t walk alone and to always walk with someone else. You didn’t really know anyone in your potions class other than Mattheo, so you weren’t sure who you were going to walk with, but you figured you’d find someone when the time came.
So now, potions class had ended and you were packing up, watching everyone walk in pairs or groups out of the classroom. You grabbed your bag and headed to the door, but noticed everyone was gone. You frowned, but figured since the halls were filled with students, you shouldn’t have an issue getting to your next class and headed out of the classroom.
“Breaking the rules now?” You heard Mattheo say after you took a few steps out the door.
“What?” You turned to see him pushing himself off the wall and coming to your side.
“Not following the ‘walking with someone’ rule. You’re alone.” He said, grabbing your arm to make you keep walking before letting go.
“Everyone had someone else already.” You shrugged as you fell into step beside him.
“I guess that leaves us then.”
“You didn’t want to walk with anyone else?” You asked curiously.
“They’re all idiots, I’m not walking with them.” He answered simply.
“You know, I think I recall you saying something about only princesses getting knights.” You said in a playful tone.
“Yeah, and?”
“Does that mean I’m a princess now?” You joked.
“And I’m a knight then?” He raised an eyebrow at you.
“Yeah.” You smiled at him.
“Fine then, princess. I guess I’ll be your knight for our 5 minute walk to your class.” He said sarcastically.
He walked with you between classes when he could, still keeping up the defense that he didn’t want to walk with anyone else since they were idiots. When they finally lifted the rule, he walked you to class one last time.
“Guess you won’t be needing my protection anymore, princess.” He said as you approached your class.
“Unfortunate. I was getting used to you walking with me.” You said, pouting playfully.
“Not like you’re never going to see me again.” He rolled his eyes at your pout.
“Might as well, though. It was the most you ever spoke to me.”
“Oh, shut up.” He stopped in front of your classroom.
“Well, I guess you’re retired now, my knight. Your services were appreciated.” You said with a small smile, chuckling when he rolled his eyes again, but this time with his own small smile.
“You’re stupid.”
“I know.”
There was a small moment of silence as you stared at each other, finally breaking when another student squeezed past you two to get into the classroom.
“Well, I better get to class. I’ll see you later, Mattheo.” You said and headed to your classroom.
“Yeah, later.” You heard him say before he started heading to his own classroom.
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff @leandre2006
@call-me-mishi @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @brittney-121 @leovaldezsbitch
@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddleluvbot @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236
@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu @prettypinkprincess15 @starryslytherin0
@jolly4holly @st0n3dbarbi3 @kurumbukaari @whydoireadanymore @sweet-afternoon
@ilovehpb0ys @princessluvssleep @satosugu4-ever @reys-letters @mattiesgirl
@alwayslatetothefandoms @satosugu4-ever @whydoireadanymore @reys-letters @mcdonaldshelppage
@shaquilles-0atmeal @feistyfox47 @gillyweeds @pluto-9456 @jooniebluesworld
@hereticdance @lxserriddle @cindyss @saint-marvel @atadoddinnit
@simpforromance @yours-truly-5
Let me know if you wanna be added!
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sarasade · 2 days
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It's been pretty interesting to follow the
"Why Didn't Viren Get Redeemed vs Viren Got What Was Coming To Him"
discussion after The Dragon Prince's 6th season got released.
Hot Take
I think Viren got redeemed.
Because to me Viren humbling himself and acknowledging the hurt he has caused was redeeming. His conversation with Soren was the main event. His rather heroic death was only the cherry on top of the character development cake that has been baking since s4.
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I think Viren dying wasn't as significant as what he did before that and how he tried to provide Soren with some kind of comfort and closure, you know, as a parent should, before going. Viren's redemption wasn't just him dying for Katolis but acknowledging his wrongdoings and trying to salvage what he could.
That was pretty redeeming for me at least. Viren did the right thing even when he knew there wouldn't be any reward for it. Even if he couldn't stop Aaravos from destroying Katolis or manipulating Claudia even after his death. Like, man, I kinda feel for the guy.
I think it has always pretty easy to feel sympathy for Viren. Viren wants to matter and wants to be important. However, his grandiosity, as psychologists would call it, keeps him from creating genuine connections with others. His friends, wife and children are only there to prop up his ego or get rejected if they fail to live up to his expectations. It's also pretty damn tragic that Viren opens up about his deep insecurities to Aaravos of all people. Someone who was the most likely person in the world to exploit these insecurities for his own gain.
Viren had to taste his own medicide but I don't think TDP says that's an objectively good thing per se or that we should enjoy this sort of revenge fantasy uncritically. Viren is still portrayed rather sympathetically and of course there is the part about his actions affecting others and the world in unpredictable ways. It's still a tragedy because Viren's actions and personal problems have caused so much collateral damage. The Why behind Aaravos exploiting Viren and Claudia is part of that tragedy, too. There are no winners here. In a way Viren is a victim of his own narcissistic tendencies, too.
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This isn't just about the final episodes of Viren's arc. To me it's essential to ask What was Viren's biggest sin he should be redeemed or punished for? Depending on your answer you may have a relatively different reading of s6 story development compared to mine.
To me it's not a specific action he took but his whole worldview. Viren is a fictional character (duh!) so his story isn't exactly literal but metaphorical, a representation of certain values and morals real people and society holds. In s3 TDP draws a pretty straightforward, though brief, comparison between Viren and reactionary right-wing ideologues. It's not exactly subtle.
It's just one way TDP goes to show how toxic and abusive Viren's core values are. that gets reflected both in Viren's personal life aka how he treated Lissa, Soren and even Harrow and Claudia (last two more indirectly). Since he also had a ton of political power as a high mage and briefly as a king we see what he did with that power. It's a pretty clear take on people who dehumanise others, fetishise power and see all living things as something to exploit. TDP explores that both philosophically and psychologically through Viren. Dark magic encapsulates this philosophy well since using magical creatures like tools or objects is essential for it to work.
Also also- I don't really get why people see redemption or atonement as something black and white. It's not bad or anything but Redeeming Yourself For Your Sins is a very Christian concept and Christianity isn't the only way to understand villain story arcs. Like I wish there could be more discussion about WHY redemption is the main analytical framework we impose on villains when villainous characters have a ton of variety anyway.
I don't really have anything to complain about Viren's death itself and I'm not surprised that he ended up dying (for real this time). Aaravos seemed like someone who'd turn against Viren the moment he stopped being useful to him so Viren's life has been hanging by a thread since s4. Viren was the best part of TDP and every scene he's been in had been a delight, well expect the s5 dream sequence because it was too long-winded and obvious, anyway, I'm sorry to see him go and I look forward writing AU fix-it fics where he and Aaravos are married and run a hot brown morning potion shop with all their four totally not dead children. RIP Viren. You lived like a messy bitch and died like a messy bitch. Iconic.
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ghouldtime · 1 day
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I just followed you based solely on an ask you responded to because I very much vibe with a Ghost who walked into a craft store for paint and came out with two new hobbies.
💚💚💚💚💚💚💚 AHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!
I'm a proud 'Simon "Ghost" Riley is just A Dude ©' Truther
I love seeing that where he is just living a nice domestic life. I usually write spooky AU's or things with the paranormal but he's always just a dude there too, I like keeping him like that!!
To me, I can never look at him flat on and agree with the version of Ghost that people usually write (no shame to those who do, keep doing whatever makes you happy - it's not personal it's just not my taste) where they make him this ultra edgelord dommy sigma guy where he's always somehow towering over EVERYONE, growls every word, and is just???? That version viscerally reminds me of my early wattpad days or those rlly weird thirst trap biketoks
Like, have you LISTENED when this man speaks? Have you heard his jokes? His sense of humor that he doesn't hide??? Give me the dad jokes, give me the terrible puns that would make you give him a significant side eye if you heard them as his shoulders shake with the laughter he's trying to hold back !!!
Soap implied he made his masks and he probably would have to to make sure that hey, this isn't something flammable. I don't think he'd just buy something that personal to him. Which means he would have to sit down and pull out the paint kit, pull out the Dremel, and get to work
THAT MEANS he has to go buy the art supplies. He has to go shop for them and browse the aisles of paint, holding up two of the bottles, determining if he would rather have Eggshell white or Ivory. And I'm convinced that yes, he knows there's a difference and he'll insist on it and NO it's not the same shade
He sews, he has to. He HAD to have made his mask. Sewing is also a super practical skill when you're out on the field and it helps improve dexterity and coordination so I'm going to say it's likely he does. Sewing is super cool y'all.
So I implore you to imagine him in the fabric store, trying not to get distracted by the seasonal prints or the really ornate shimmery fabrics that you can't help but to look at. I refuse to accept that he hasn't sewn pillows in his house just because he liked a certain fabric and wanted to use it
And I'm going to say he's made a god awful holiday themed mask. It's simultaneously the most ugly thing you've ever set eyes upon and the greatest thing ever too. He's committed to the bit
He's also picked up embroidery because, like sewing, it helps improve your dexterity and keeps your hands busy. It's also practical because how else can people steal your things or confuse them if there's a tiny ghost embroidered on the hem????
He's just a guy and I love imagining Ghost with actual domestic hobbies, being himself, living his life (falling into the trap we all do at some point of going into an art store and finding something interesting to do)
Just A Dude© Ghost is my favorite and I'll never let him go
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nerdygaymormon · 3 days
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Meeting with the Renlunds 2024
On my trip to Utah for the 2024 Gather Conference, I had an opportunity to meet with the Elder & Sister Renlund.
Gather Conference and Gatherings
I shared with them that I was in town for the Gather conference, which is for LGBTQ people, regardless of whether still in or out of the church, who are spiritual as the conference focuses on Christ. This year, in addition to having a big conference, Lift+Love began something called "Gatherings" where people host a group in their home, and to help them there is a guide with scriptures, stories & questions, and it follows the Come, Follow Me schedule. Later, I emailed the Renlunds the September guide and a link to the website showing Gathering locations.
Stake Executive Secretary
It came up that my calling is still stake executive secretary. Sister Renlund commented, "You've served in that capacity for a long time." Yes I have, 9 years. Elder Renlund shared this a calling that he covets because there's something appealing about being at the nerve center but not in charge of making the hard decisions. It's good to be the helper, to make a difference by organizing things and creating order out of chaos. By making things predictable, it takes some of the load from the stake presidency.
Elder Renlund told the me executive secretary to the First Presidency is Elder Brook Hales, and he's able to get things done without interposing himself, he is respectful of the First Presidency's desires. I commented that is how I approach my calling, I am not the president nor the counselors, I'm there as the secretary, but my stake president is clear that anyone in the room can receive inspiration and should share it. If time has gone by and I haven't said anything, the stake president will call on me and ask what I think. Elder Renlund then said, "Revelation is scattered."
Elder Renlund commented that when the stake president is anxious to hear from everyone in the room, that usually indicates he is a good one. The person who presides has to set that tone to encourage others to share. Those who don't preside should share their thoughts but not argue and make it difficult on the one who presides and make him feel he needs to negotiate or compromise. Then Elder Renlund added, "I think he's pretty wise to keep you on all this time."
Everybody is Equivalent when it comes to Revelation
The music text team for the new hymnal had asked if there is a notable author, like Janice Kapp Perry, whose song is going to be included, should those lyrics be treated the same as the rest of the hymns? Elder Renlund directed them to treat all identically.
Years ago President Nelson wrote a hymn titled "Our Prayer to Thee," and the choir has sung it at General Conference. With living authors, they won't make changes without their approval. The music text team proposed 12 minor changes to the lyrics along with explanations, and brought them to Elder Renlund.
President Nelson could have said, "Dale, you shouldn't even be asking. I was inspired to do it this way, I can't believe you're even suggesting this." Instead, President Nelson reviewed the changes and proclaimed that these made it better, and accepted 11 of the proposed alternatives. A leader should be humble enough and confident enough to accept correction. Elder Renlund used this example to illustrate his point that everybody is equivalent when it comes to getting revelation, but there's one person who is different, which is the person who presides.
The New Hymnal
Elder Renlund mentioned Elder James E. Faust's lyrics for "This is the Christ" which says, "How many drops of blood were spilled for me?" It's not doctrinal that each individual has a few drops of Christ's blood directly shed for them. Elder Renlund, the cardiologist, says that if there's drops for everybody, that would exceed the amount of blood in the human body. Sister Renlund then commented that it's poetic, it's a metaphor to ponder what did I contribute to His grief.
Next Elder Renlund spoke about the hymn "Love at Home" and how there's some lines that could be uncomfortable to sing if a person doesn't have the kind of home described in the song. Just as with the drops of blood, Elder Renlund shared another example of concrete thinking with the line "Roses bloom beneath our feet," and said if they're underneath your feet, you smash them. The lyrics were changed to "Roses bloom around our feet." Elder Renlund actually didn't want this song included in the hymnal because it was used in minstrel shows of the 1800's to say that life for slaves on America’s plantations was full of joy and love. Elder Renlund felt that alone should disqualify the song from being included in the new hymnal, however the committee overruled him. I agree with Elder Renlund, I’ll never think of that song the same way and will probably decline to ever sing it again.
Translating each one of the 450 or so songs into every language version of the hymnal is a large undertaking and some were concerned about the cost. While saying it's important that every member have access to the same songs, it’s a matter of equity, he added that the cost of translation is "probably no more than installing 5 scoreboards at the BYU campus." 😂 The impact of the new hymnal on the church will be universal if it's done in each of the languages.
Music Invites the Spirit
Elder Renlund stated that for him there's very few things which invite the Spirit more than music, it has the ability to set the right tone. I responded that I think music has a key to our hearts that words alone don't. At weddings or funerals, someone may or may not cry at other times, but if they are going to cry they will do so when the music plays.
Sister Renlund shared that they are traveling to Houston, TX and will meet with the missionaries. They invited questions be submitted ahead of time, and one they received is "How do we invite the Spirit into our lessons more?" In addition to prayer, scriptures, and an expression of gratitude, she will suggest music is a great way to invite the Spirit. Whether it's singing or using the phone to play music, it's a way to quickly set the tone for a spiritual message.
Elder Renlund shared that years ago he was in Edmonton, Canada and visited the home of a family. Two sister missionaries sang "Where is Heaven" by Janice Kapp Perry, and the non-member dad felt the room flood with the spirit. Any concerns, any doubts, just disappeared. The music opened his heart.
I commented that at last year’s conference I met Janice Kapp Perry and she had written a song for the conference which I find moving. Elder Renlund said, if you bump into her, tell her that her music has an impact.
All Are Alike Unto God
The song for last year's conference is titled, "All Are Alike Unto God.” Janice wrote the music and Megan Decker, a lesbian member of the church, wrote most of the lyrics, which are generic enough that they could apply to anyone, but for people in that room it touches on themes we often wrestle with, such as "Am I enough? Am I loved? Am I wanted?" As we sang this song at the conference, I felt the Spirit so much.
Elder Renlund queried, "In the song, does she reach a conclusion, is there an answer to those questions?" "Yes it does." "That's right, the answer is 'yes.'"
He then said, "The one thing I absolutely know is that anything that's unfair in life will be made right by the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I don't know how, but it will."
In the follow-up email I sent with information on the Gatherings, I let them know the song “All Are Alike Unto God” was released on streaming platforms, and included a link to Spotify.
Cambodia
They were in Cambodia earlier this year and made a visit to the killing fields where about 1 million people were executed by order of Pol Pot. There were stacks of skulls along with notes of what kind of farming implement killed them because the regime was trying to save bullets. It's a demonstration of absolute evil, yet Elder Renlund felt absolute peace as he felt the message that "We don't need to worry about these people, I've [Christ] got them." The atonement is infinite. We may have questions we don't have answers to, we have situations which aren't fair and which are difficult, but people who do the best they can are going to reap great rewards.
The Book of Queer Mormon Joy
At the end of our visit I gifted them a copy of The Book of Queer Mormon Joy. Being in this space of being LGBTQ and a Latter-day Saint is difficult, but there is joy, too. These aren't simple stories of joy, they're complex and the joy has to be worked for. A lot of the stories are of people choosing to change their situation, changing what they think is possible for their life, or what they want for their life.
There was a song from the 1960's, "Turn! Turn! Turn!" based on Ecclesiastes 3, which says there's a time for joy and a time for sadness. Often we think of it as separate times, but often we experience joy while we deal with hard things, we don't have the luxury of waiting for the hard times to pass.
I bookmarked the story I wrote of my friend Kris who is trans masc. I also bookmarked my good friend @loveerran’s story of her first time going to an LDS family ward and attending Relief Society presenting as her feminine trans self and how meaningful that was for her. I mentioned she had given me a ride and was waiting for me downstairs.
They promised to read both stories.
Then, they handed me a book they had written and asked if my friend Erran would accept a gift, they'd like her to have it as a thank you for bravely sharing her story💗 and for giving me a ride😆.
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masterqwertster · 16 hours
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I so agree, with your thoughts about Ashton!
It's odd, to me, that Ashton in particular has garnered so much hatred. If you look back on all of Taliesin's characters across every campaign, he's ultimately not that different in personality from the others, save maybe Caduceus. Percy, Molly, and Ashton are all people who have been deeply beaten down by the circumstances they were forced into, and they gained a rough exterior to protect themselves because of it.
They're snarky, and try to act aloof to keep people at an arm's length, but at their core, they still have bleeding hearts that love much more deeply than they probably wish they did. In other words, they are interesting, multilayered characters, that don't just have one note. It's strange then, that these same characteristics are so widely celebrated with Percy and Molly, but are treated as reasons to hate Ashton in the same breath.
Taliesin is a master at making characters that make you think, and I think Ashton deserves to be celebrated as such, just as much as the others!
To be honest, I can't speak much of previous PCs' reception since I only got into CR Tumblr around Bells Hells arriving in Yios, but I think the difference is framing.
Taliesin has stated that his through-line on his PCs is the characteristic Confidently Wrong.
I would guess that the reason Ashton is catching flak is because:
a) they've got shit Charisma and Taliesin plays that as Doesn't Know What to Say and/or Doesn't Know When to Shut Up. Which on a disillusioned/cynical punk is... abrasive to say the least. They tell their truths with little to no filter, or much thought at times about how true those things are for others. Meanwhile, Molly and Percy are charming in carny and nobility ways respectively, while Caduceus has a calm, homey charm. Ashton is semi-intentionally off-putting, and pretty constantly cranky to some degree from chronic pain.
and b) Recently, Ashton is Confidently Wrong about a subject any attentive watcher can tag as being wrong and has major consequences on the world if acted on. Like, yes, you don't want a heartless, powerful murderer to push the Doomsday Button. But your group of caring, weak(? not really anymore) chucklefuck friends pushing the button doesn't change its doomsday nature or really make it any better. Also, all your information on what the Doomsday Button does exactly is suspect. I don't think any of the other's Confidently Wrong subjects were so potentially devastating for more than themselves or their parties rather than the globe. It's easier to grant grace when you're fucking over less people.
Now do I wish Ashton would get a clue that releasing Predathos is bad, period? Absolutely. But I also have been watching him and when they get an idea in their head, he tends to stick to it until proven wrong (think the Spark mess. Fearne hesitated last second, Ashton didn't). And the idea in their head right now is: The gods need to leave, their thrones need to be destroyed.
I think part of Ashton's rage at the gods that fuels this idea is wanting someone to blame that isn't himself for his shit life, and finding the gods a good target for blame, as Taliesin has mentioned on 4-Sided Dive before. And I think part of it is that FCG did a lot of proclaiming to be on the anti-Ludinus/Predathos stuff to save his goddess, and then he died as part of their missions, and then Ashton was shown a video about how the gods absolutely will sacrifice their followers to save their own asses. Which is kind of the situation FCG died in, if you slant it a bit and act like FCG wasn't mainly choosing to save their friends in the moment rather than the gods long-term. So it probably feels better to Ashton to throw some of that anger about FCG making the sacrificial play that he's been trying so hard to prevent at the gods who FCG was trying to serve.
And I get that not everyone wants to do the analysis on why Ashton is picking the path he is. That they don't want to take time to acknowledge his lack of social graces and the bias of his views, and would rather just get to attacking the faulty, insensitive rhetoric Ashton's spouting at the moment. But like, there's reasons Ashton is the way they are, and it doesn't hurt to acknowledge them even as you hard disagree with what's being said or strived for.
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intervex · 2 days
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Survey: flags & coinings for combinations of intersex and disability
SURVEY URL: https://forms.gle/d6fUWH7jXBTmEBdS9
In the survey I specify ten different ways that intersex people can identify with disability. I show you 13 different flags which play with disability & intersex visuals in different ways, and I ask you to rate which use cases are most suitable for each flag.
The second page then does the same deal, but with proposed terms. If flags aren't your thing you can skip the first page and go straight to the coining section. 💛
Based on how long it took a friend to do the survey, it will probably take about 15 mins to complete.
EDIT TO CLARIFY: you do not have to be both disabled and intersex to fill in the survey! I ask you on page two if those terms apply to you, so just be clear if you're not disabled/intersex. 💜 I think flags & terms should be ideally legible to out-groups, so the feedback is appreciated! But if there are ties I will prioritize the data from people who are both intersex & disabled.
Yesterday, I posted three flag designs for ways that intersex and disability can go together, and I put up two polls on coining terms. And I got really constructive feedback! Thread is here, also see replies. People had suggestions for alternate coinings and use cases that I have incorporated into the survey.
The survey does not ask you for personal information and I am not collecting emails. If you're logged in with Google it will hopefully save your progress. I turned on the options for people to edit their responses after submission (you'll need to save the special url!) and the option to see other folks' responses.
You can answer the questions in any order. You can skip questions as you desire. You don't have to justify any of your answers.
At the end of the month (September 2024) I'll post the results on this tumblr. If you want a reminder to look for the results, I recommend adding a reminder to your calendar on Oct 2 to come back here. 💜
These are the 13 flags in the survey. In order of appearance, they are:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
And under the cut I'll list out the nine use cases. If you have Long Covid like me you might want to have this tab open beside the survey so you can refer to the different use cases.
The ten use-cases I specify are:
"Any reason": Intersex person who identifies as disabled (for ANY reason). Would include ALL of the following cases.
"Variation-specific": Intersex person who considers their specific intersex variation to be a disability. May or may not view other intersex variations as disabilities (e.g. "CAH is a disability but Klinefelter's is not"). Does NOT imply this person accepts the medical model of disability.
"Personal case(s)": Intersex person who considers their personal intersex variation to be a disability. May or may not view others with the same variation as disabled. (E.g. "My CAH is disabling but not everybody has the same experience"). Does NOT imply this person accepts the medicalization.
"Intersex as part of disability community": Intersex person who considers the intersex community to be a member of the broader disability community and/or that intersex rights/justice should be considered part of the disability rights/justice movements. Again, does NOT imply a medical model of disability.
"Debility by intersexism": Intersex person who has a disability caused by intersexist violence. Would include chronic pain from IGM, PTSD from medical trauma, PTSD from bullying, mobility limitation from surviving a hate crime. The term "debility" is used in disability studies for disablement that is caused by structural violence, often implying a slow wearing out from perpetual minority stress.
"Iatrogenic disability": Intersex person who has an iatrogenic disability. Iatrogenesis is when medical intervention causes disease/disability - such as chronic pain caused by surgery. The term applies regardless of whether the surgery was consensual or involuntary. Somebody who *chose* to get genital surgery that wound up causing chronic pain would fall under this category, but *not* the previous category (debility).
"Commonly correlated disability": Intersex person with a disability which is commonly correlated to their intersex variation. Like Deafness and MRKH. ADHD and EDS are known to be more common amongst intersex people.
"Unrelated disability": Intersex person who has a disability that to them is clearly unrelated to being intersex. Like they acquired a disability through being a combat veteran, and so to them there's no link between this disability and being intersex.
"It's complicated": Intersex person who is disabled and the connection between the two identities is complex and not easy to pin down. Maybe they have a disability where it /might/ be linked to being intersex but they don't know. Or they can't draw a neat distinction between disabling and non-disabling parts of their intersex variation. Or they read the last seven cases and are like "wow I have none of that clarity about how my intersex variation relates to being intersex".
"Any-linked-reason": Intersex person who is disabled and they see *any* kind of link/connection between being intersex and being disabled. The link can be vague/messy! Umbrella category that would encompass #2-7 and #9 (everything except the "unrelated disability" group.)
Tagging @queercripintersex @posting-stuffies @headpainmigraine @intersexflags @daydreamerdisease @interachive since you all chimed in with feedback on the original thread. 💜
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