#i'm applying to a CALL CENTRE

[astrlloow]

ugh ok i'm going to try submitting a resume that presents me as a white cishet ugh i hate this i hate this

[folkloresthings]

Hello darling I have a request from prompt ‘we were supposed to be just friends’. Lando x fem!reader, she work as legal for McLaren, they met at the McLaren technology center, and from the begging they had this special bond. During a party in a disco in uk with his friends, he stay very close to her and try to kiss her. After a sec of confusion, they kissing each other.

❛ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ❜ ❨ lando norris x reader ❩

where lando has loved the mclaren legal officer from the second he set eyes on her and has finally decided to do something about it.

eight months out of university and working in a coffee shop was not exactly how you had pictured your life post-graduation. you had a law degree from one of the best schools in england, but all it was doing was gathering dust on a frame in your living room. nights were spent in front of the television, only half paying attention, with your laptop screen lit up with job postings. it was like the four years of knowledge was itching to be used, instead of idle hands pouring overpriced iced lattes.

admittedly, you didn't remember applying for the job at mclaren. you were so desperate that you had sent your resume to every posting you could find, barely sparing a second glance at the job summary. it was only when they emailed with an interview date did you do your research. they were a formula one team, and a pretty good one at that. the sport had never much been your thing so you hadn't a clue what kind of work you'd be doing.

but it was work. legal work.

the interview went smoothly, then the second, and the third. they seemed to love you and your education. thankfully the internships you had done during university made up for your lack of experience. they hired you and had you come up to headquarters the next day. the drive from london to woking was full of jitters, turning your radio up to block out the nervous thoughts.

"ah, y/n! welcome to the mclaren technology centre." zak brown was the one to greet you by the front desk, with a smile and a firm handshake. you had spoken during your last interview, the final hurdle with the boss, and thankfully you got along fine. despite your age and greenness in the legal world, zak admitted he saw potential in you. they had gone through six other employees in the past two years for this position, all much older and more experienced. they needed a change.

"this is where you'll be working when you're in-office," zak explained, leading the way through a tour of the centre. it was much bigger than you expected, so modern and open. yeah, you could picture yourself here. "we usually would have you here one or two days a week, the others you can work from home. is that okay?"

"that's perfect," you agree, nodding happily. "i live in london, so the drive is only about an hour."

zak grins, continuing the tour and filling each space with small talk; your education, upbringing, hobbies. he only laughed when you sheepishly told him you knew very little about formula one, and didn't have a huge interest in the sport.

"you'd be surprised how many people here don't watch it," he chuckled, his american accent strange in the midst of the english countryside. "ah, speaking of. boys!"

in the foyer, at the end of the hall, two heads whip around at zak's call. both in the mclaren colours, one was thinner and smiling crookedly. the other, well. he was...

"lando, oscar, i want you to meet y/n. she's our new internal legal officer," zak explained. "meaning if you fuck up in any way, she'll have to deal with it."

the three men laugh, bringing your own bashful smile to wake.

"hi, i'm oscar," the thinner boy speaks in a soft australian accent, shaking your hand. "but it's lando here that you'll have to keep an eye on. i'm always on my best behaviour."

lando. he'd been staring at you since zak dragged you over to them, barely blinking despite for the odd laugh. he blushes then, gently nudging oscar with his elbow. he meets your eyes and his mouth goes dry, lips parting like a fish out of water as he tries desperately to think of something witty to say.

"don't worry, if you don't do anything wrong then i won't have anything to do," you jest, breaking the silence. a grin pulls at your mouth with the words, soon mirrored by the two drivers.

"i think i'd rather you didn't, then," zak scoffs, patting your shoulder. "go get settled, i'll come check on you in a while. boys, we've got that meeting in ten — c'mon."

smiling gratefully, you nod towards zak as he leaves — a silent thank you for his hospitality. oscar waves shyly, turning on his heel to hurry after his boss. lando follows suit, just about pulling his eyes from you, but only makes it a few steps before he's turning back.

"it was, uh, nice to meet you," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "hopefully i'll see you around."

biting at your cheek, holding back a small laugh, you nod. "hopefully."

lando finds himself grinning, walking a few yards backwards just to spare another minute looking at you. oscar calls for him and forces the teammate to hurry, shoes scuffing against polished tile as he catches up.

"stare much?" oscar asks him once they're side by side, a knowing smirk twisting upward.

"shut up," lando mumbles, but his own smile flickers. "she's pretty."

after that day, lando and you became close friends. he would sneak upstairs from briefings to bring you a coffee ("extra caramel, of course") and hide out in your office. he would vent to you about changes zak was, or wasn't, making with the car. you would confide in his about particularly stressful cases you would get handed. on days you weren't in the office, lando would text you pictures of him and oscar bored in meetings.

but the worst was race weekends. very rarely did you go along with the rest of the team, as there was little need for you there. if something went wrong, you could fix it from your desk in england. lando sent you updates from each city, everything from the track to sightseeings. you would often reply with a picture of your rainy window in central london and a sad face. and each sunday, you would sit up and watch the race with your fingers crossed. no matter the time, you were there. and when a race went particularly bad, you would wait up for the phone call from lando, needing a shoulder to lean on.

the staff at mclaren began saying you two were joined at the hip, partners in crime, so often not seen without the other. the best of friends.

"hey," lando chirped, knuckles rapping on your office door one friday morning. he had two coffees in his hand, as usual, perching both them and himself on top of your desk. "you going to the office party tonight?"

"open bar, free cocktails, seeing mark from marketing drunk?" you hummed thoughtfully, sipping at the hot drink. "you bet i am."

lando laughs, head thrown back slightly. the knowledge that you'll be there relaxes him, actually letting him look forward to the mandatory night out. "okay, good. i'll see you then."

"see you tonight," you call after him, watching until he disappears around the nearest corner. luckily, zak lets everyone go an hour early in account for the party starting at eight. you hurry home, sorting through every outfit option and getting ready as quickly as you can. the club was on the other side of london, at least forty minutes on the train, hence your rushing out the door with only one heel buckled.

inside of the club, completely booked out by zak for the company's pleasure, you realised just how many people worked in the world that was mclaren. legal was such a small part of it, a tiny cog in the whole machine. it was quite overwhelming, if it wasn't for the fact that you knew so many of the faces.

"y/n, hey!" the familiar sydney accent pulls your eyes to the nearby bar. oscar waves you over, smiling as you weave your way into a hug. "this is lily, my girlfriend."

you recognised the girl from pictures, but she was even prettier in real life. you exchange bright hello's, hugging in greeting while oscar orders you both some drinks.

"it's so nice to finally meet you!" lily beams, tucking her hair behind her ears. "i've heard so much."

curiosity peaks you, head tilted ever so slightly. "you have?"

"yeah, of course. lando is always—"

her words are cut short by a wide-eyed oscar, shoving in between you both to give you your drinks. "ha, hey! let's go sit, hm?"

your brows furrow, only more confused when lily shoots you an apologetic look. she takes your hand to lead you through the crowd to a booth at the other wall. amongst a few individuals you vaguely recognise, lando sits sipping a beer. he looks up when he hears oscar greet them, but his eyes instantly shoot to you.

"jesus," he mutters, quiet enough that only max next to him hears. you look absolutely stunning, your figure newly shown off by the little dress you have on. it falls to about mid-thigh, the rest of your legs accentuated by the heels you had on. your hair and makeup has been done a bit more than it would for work, and the sight has lando's stomach churning.

you squeeze in next to lily, across the table from lando. he can't tear his eyes away from you, even when max tries to strike up conversation. all you're doing is talking to lily, leaning over into each other to hear properly, face lighting up every so often with a laugh.

"so, that's who's had you so distracted recently?" max eventually catches lando's attention, watching his best friend's eyes widen. "she's pretty."

pretty? lando though. she was gorgeous.

"we're just friends," lando explains, shaking his head.

"bro, you've been staring at her like she's the only person in the room for the last twenty minutes," max laughs airily, nudging him. lando scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny the fact. after another moment, you catch his gaze and smile softly. lando blushes, lifting his hand to wave slightly.

"okay, let's dance! this is my favourite song," max suddenly exclaims, standing up with a slap to the tabletop. a few follow suit, and you turn to lily with raised brows.

"oh, no," she shakes her head with a giggle. "i need at least two more of these drinks before you get me up there."

"well, drink up. i'll save you a dance."

smiling sweetly, you slip off of the seat to give her attention back to oscar. lando stands at the same time, smiling playfully when he looks at you. a hand of his stretches out and you can't even fathom denying it, slipping palm to palm and letting him drag you to the middle of the dance floor.

the song is drake or the weekend, something you don't really know, but the beat is so loud that you can feel it in the floor beneath you. falling into a rhythm, you giggle as lando begins moving with you. he sings along, but you don't recognise the lyrics, only the movement of his lips as his eyes shut. your chest thumps in time with the music, the heat of the people around you creeping onto your bare skin. the music mixes, changing into a melody you instantly know.

"i love this song!" you squeal, grasping lando's arms to shake them in excitement. he chuckles, watching on in admiration as you begin dancing again, reciting every single word to abba's lay all your love on me. your hands sneak down from his arms to his hands, forcing him to move along with you. he spins you around again and again just to watch your hair and dress float around you like magic, the lights of the club basking you in a heavenly hue.

somewhere in the midst of the second verse and chorus, lando feels his judgement cloud. he'd like to blame it on the beer, but he had only drank one, and he knew it was that usual intoxicating presence you carried around everywhere. your lips mould around each lyric, having listened to the song so many times (and your endless summer rewatches of mamma mia, as you once told him) that it was engraved on your memory. you looked perfect, the same as every day he snuck glances at you in the office or scrolled through your instagram late at night when he couldn't sleep for thinking about you.

you were it, for him. everything he loved and dreamed of, the only thing that had kept his feet on the ground this past season. and here you were, chest pressed to his thanks to the swarm of drunken guests, so close that he could smell your perfume and the shampoo from your hair. you had used a darker lipstick tonight, he noticed, unlike the usual clear balm you wore at work. it made you lips look even more soft than they normally do - he knew, because he spent a hefty chunk of his day staring at them.

abba fades out, along with the loud and out of tune singing filling the club, and all lando can think about is kissing you. it wouldn't be fair, for such pretty lips to go unkissed. and it wouldn't be fair on him, who has spent hours on end imagining how kissing you might feel, to let such an opportunity slip away from him.

so, he's tightening the hands that are already on your waist to pull you even closer, until there's not an inch of space left between you. his lips around rough, unmoving as they press against yours, eyes screwed shut and cursing the long seconds as he waits for your mouth to respond. eventually, he peeks through hesitant eyes to meet your surprise. your lips, colour smudged a little now from the contact, are parted and your eyes are wide. he can't discern what you're thinking, but he would bet it wasn't pure elation.

blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer.

his mouth opens just as all of his senses wire back in again, the end notes of the song just ringing out when he begins making his excuse. but your surprise and panic fills you so much that you can't breathe here, not with so many people around and lando's body heat still so close. stumbling, you push past him and everyone else that you meet to escape the busyness. the neon exit sign beckons you to the fire door, gasping when it opens and the fresh night air hits you.

thankfully, there isn't a soul to watch you and your flushed cheeks struggling for breath, and you wait until you hear the door shut behind you to fully relax again, frankly not caring if you lock yourself out. but the click of the lock doesn't come, only a familiar sound that crumbles you again.

"y/n—"

lando stands helpless in the doorway, eyes pleading for forgiveness when you turn to him. your head shakes, searching for something to say.

"i... you, what—” you struggle to grasp the right words, eyes squeezing shut. "i thought we were just friends?"

"we were! we are," lando corrects you quickly, striding towards you. "but that doesn't change the fact that i—"

"lan, please don't."

"— love you, y/n. i've been in love with you since your first day at work. how couldn't i be?"

his voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before, urging guilt into your throat until you have to swallow it back down. you make yourself look down at the ground, your heels and his sneakers facing each other, because you know you'll fall apart once you see those damned brown eyes.

"lando..." you murmur through a sigh.

"don't you feel it too?" he asks, desperately grabbing at your clammy hands. "us, me and you. it's right there."

you cave then, heart taking over from your mind, chin raised to look at him. lips turn into a frown, searching his lovelorn eyes for the moment he'll laugh and tell you its all a big joke. because he's lando, and you're just you.

"tell me that you don't, that there's nothing here," lando mumbles lower, gripping your fingers for dear life. "tell me this isn't real and i'll walk away. but — but i can't leave you if there's a chance."

your lips part with a breath, lips dry, and your sense screams at you to tell him no. that it'll never work, it's impossible. but something tugs in your chest and you realise something you had never wanted to admit to yourself: you loved lando norris.

"it'll be too complicated." you settle for excuses instead, chewing the inside of your cheek, wincing when you nick the flesh. "we have to work together, so if something happens then it'll mess everything up."

lando steadies your shaking head with his hands, one on each cheek, staring deep into your eyes. "what are you so scared of?"

you swallow, shoulders raising with each shallow breath. "i don't want to lose you. you're my best friend, the only person i can talk to. i don't want to mess that up."

your confession melts his heart, affection bringing his thumbs to graze across your cheeks. "i won't let that happen," lando promises, tongue sincere as can be.

you wait a moment, scouring his features before the trust solidifies. gently, tentatively, you search for the taste you barely got inside of the club, lips ghosting together. strawberry and beer mix on your tongues, hands wandering over body heat and mouths hungrily moving together like two teenagers in a back alley. only when breathless does lando fall from your lips, hands still steady on the round hips of your dress, keeping you close.

"i'll always be your best friend," he whispers like an oath, a boyish smile tugging at the corner of his swollen and lipstick-covered mouth. "but can we be best friends who do that, like, a lot?"

writer's note: wrote this in one sitting and may have gotten carried away but pls enjoy <3

[beep-beep-imma-sheep]

"The entire country without electricity, hospitals collapsing, and they're like this. We're not to be demoralized nor weakened, 25 years are already enough".

This is El Cuartel de la Montaña. There's where Chávez rests are. During the entire blackout, that, for me, was 19 hours long, that place had electricity.

El Helicoide, the largest torture centre in LATAM also had electricity.

"A patient in the Noriega Trigo hospital in San Francisco just died. She was intubated and glued to a respirator.

The hospital doesn't have a power plant, nor UPS for the devices. They tried to resurrect her with CPR and nothing".

friend since 4 in the morning without electricity. The light came on about an hour ago with a lot of force and burned down a small refrigerator that we have with my mom and sister's insulin. This is a disaster. We went out to buy ice as best we could and the neighbor lent us some Colman coolers to store them in because the heat here is very intense. God willing, we'll get away from these people. Thank you. Anonymous. Please.

In Lecheria, girl.

Maria Corina is very badass, she flew with her rocket and left us all without electricity EXCEPT Chavez, Helicoide and Miraflores... it's incredible that they are even incoherent when it comes to lying.

— Without showing evidence, Freddy Ñáñez blamed María Corina Machado and Edmundo González for the national blackout: "People like that cannot be considered Venezuelans" "FREDDY ÑÁÑEZ BLAMES MARIA CORINA AND EDMUNDO FOR THE NATIONAL BLACKOUT"

Do you still believe that everything that has happened in Venezuela (electrical failures, shortages) in these last 25 years is the fault of others? No, gentlemen, it is a system of psychological conditioning to exhaust every Venezuelan.

— Hospitals, nursing homes, schools, homes... WITHOUT LIGHT The Helicoid TORTURE WITH ELECTRICITY What is this called? STATE TERRORISM

And this happened already.

Additionally:

Two former Colombian soldiers, Alexander Ante and José Aron Medina Aranda, were detained in Venezuela during a stopover while returning from fighting in Ukraine. Following their arrest in Caracas, both were extradited to Russia, where they now face charges of having fought against Russian forces as mercenaries. A Moscow court has ordered their provisional detention, which could lead to a sentence of up to 15 years in prison. The family, who had been waiting for their return in Colombia, were devastated to discover that they had been sent to Russia without warning.

@lasttarrasque

@tren-trenvilu

@punishedsaints

@fuckyeahmarxismleninism

@prensabolivariana

@thegreenbisamurai

This is what y'all supporting 🫵

—.

Everyone else, feel free to tag any other chavista/ tankie/ communist / leftie who is speaking about Venezuela when they know nothing about us or out history.

Disclaimer: those terms do not apply to any Usamerican / foreigner who is actually being respectful, I'm only refering to the ones that defend a dictatorship who lets people die while they keep the power to themselves.

[youneedsomeprompts]

I am currently writing a story, and almost every character I’ve introduced so far uses she/her pronouns. I keep having to use their names over and over and it looks redundant and odd. I’ve used epithets a few times but I absolutely hate having to do that.

Is there any advice you have for this sort of issue, and if so, it would be great if you could share some! Thank you :)

Multiple Characters with the Same Pronouns

Having multiple characters with the same pronouns in one scene can make describing the scene a little difficult. I'm not sure if I have entirely new tips for you because you already pointed out the three most common ways to refer to a character (name, pronouns, epithets (a term used to characterise a person/thing)) and what the problems with each one can be. But I'll try my best :)

Repetition of Pronouns

First off, there is nothing wrong with using the character's pronouns a lot, as long as the reader can follow. A good thumb rule is that all fitting pronouns following the mention of a name (or an epithet) are referring to that mentioned character.

"Eleanor stormed out of the house. Her feet carried her aimlessly down the gravel path. She didn't care about the stares and she wouldn't slow down no matter what they would call after her. She had her mind made up."

This example is rather clear because there is not much back and forth between multiple characters with the same pronouns. It is very obvious that every 'she' and 'her' refers to the character named Eleanor. Now, if we have, let's say four characters in a scene that use she/her pronouns, we can still try to apply the same rule. Use an epithet or the name when the focus wanders from one character to the other. In between, when treating the same character, you can easily use their pronouns.

"Eleanor gritted her teeth. Why did she have to listen to her mother's long sermons? It wasn't fair. Everyone knew she had more important things to do. But now her mother's eyes bore even more accusingly into her. 'Do you think this is a joke, Eleanor?' Mother's voice flipped as she drew out the syllables of her daughter's name. 'Oh, leave her be, mother!' Ivy chimed in. She was always ready to defend her elder sister. She was such a sweetheart, Eleanor thought. Meredith, of course, had a different opinion. 'I don't know why Eleanor should get a different treatment than we. All she does is make trouble, and now there isn't even a consequence, or what?' She wasn't hateful, she just had a very strong sense of justice. Too strong maybe, Eleanor thought. People were different enough; a good reason to treat them individually and not by some harsh standards that Meredith so liked to set."

I don't know if this is the best example but I hope it demonstrates a way to deal with the problem. Just as using pronouns a lot, it's also alright to repeat the characters' names quite a few times. It can help the reader 're-centre' in the story and be clear about which character is actually doing what.

Epithets

As to epithets, you don't have to use them excessively if you don't like it, but I feel it can be a great way to loosen up the story a bit here and there. As you said, with quick changes of focus between the characters, there is not much possibility to use the pronouns because we have to 'reintroduce' the characters whenever the focus of action changes. We don't always want to use their name for that. So? Epithets? Maybe it helps to find the right epithets for your story. Maybe it doesn't feel cohesive to use attributes like 'the red-haired woman' or 'the grim-looking, old man'. Maybe it fits the story more to use the characters' roles like 'the teacher' or 'the butler'. I think when using the fitting epithets it can feel so coherent that you don't even notice them. E.g. Of course, character X is the driver, so we refer to them as the driver every now and then. Of course, character Y is the father of Z, so we can use epithets referring to their parental role. This, for example, can feel very natural, but what exactly feels natural is individual to every story/scene. It can be one way to look for the epithets that are most natural to the character to not interrupt the flow of the story. Or it can be another way to look for the epithets that most set the character apart from the other characters to make a clear distinction of who exactly is acting right now. You can make this choice again and again with every new sentence. And of course, there are a lot more ways to categorise and choose epithets (I could maybe make another post about that if there is interest). But I hope this may already help a little :)

Let me know if you have more questions about this topic!

[stubz]

grandma said

"I wonder what's taking Max so long?" mumbled the human, waiting with several younglings and children for the other human to come so that they can leave the centre.

"Kim can we go now?"

"Not until Max and Ezshi come."

"But Ezshi takes light years to get ready~" whined the child.

"I know but--"

A wail like no other echoed throughout the halls. The screams bounced off the walls into the human's body, from their heart to their skull they felt the vibrations of the child.

"Cover your ears and stay here!" they said before sprinting inside the classroom.

The wailing grew the closer they got to the source which was little Ezshi who was being comforted by the other human.

"What happened?!" even at Kim's loudest her yells were easily drowned out the reptilian's wails and cries.

Max pointed at the youngling and she looked down to see their tail swollen and slightly discolored. He then drew her attention to the door leading outside of the centre.

Ah shit it had to be the tail. As younglings Caimunes had incredibly sensitive tails as they were still developing the necessary healing abilities to allow them to regrow them.

'Anyting I can do?' she texted.

'Just take the others to the garden without us. Ezshi' cries r probably hurting some of their ears. Text management to send over a sub in my place and close the door to muffle the noise.'

'K, gud luck' and with that she left leading the younglings far away from the pained wails.

.

..

...

What the hell do I do!? They don't want an ice pack or a cold cloth or me to even breath on it and it'll be at least another 15 minutes till Eza get's here...

The poor human had spent the last 15 minutes trying to comfort and help the youngling to no avail. He tried applying first aid but Ezshi wailed even louder at the thought of anything touching their tail. The human then tried soothing them with words and rubbing circles on their back but that had only worked for mere seconds at a time.

So far the only thing he managed to do was give them a pillow to sit on and reassure them that their Bubba was coming as fast as they can.

A Caimunes tail is the most sensitive body part, equivalent to a human's fingers or toes...think think think. This isn't that far from when I slammed my finger in the closet door so what was done to help me?

He cried; just like Ezshi. He didn't want anyone to touch it; just like Ezshi. He calmed down but that was because he trusted his parents when they put his hand under cold water.

There has to be something...

"Oh." and Ezshi whimpered for the human had gotten up and went to the small kitchen they had.

*wHinNE*

"Don't worry I'm coming back buddy. I just remembered something that could help. Something my Grandma once said." they opened the top cupboard and came back with a small bag.

"Now don't tell anyone about this because this is for next week," he took out a small wrapped upped square and began to open it, "but my Grandma said that it's harder to be sad when eating something sweet so we're going to give it a try." he placed the small smooth square into the youngling's claw.

They sniffed it then plopped it into their mouth. It was strange to them. It was hard but then chewy and sticky. Sweet but tangy.

"It's called a Starburst. A candy from Earth."

The youngling started to cry once again but to the human's relief it was a much quieter cry.

"What does it taste like?"

"...*whimper*"

"Is it sweet?"

Nod*

"Kinda tangy?"

Shake*

A little sour?"

Shake*

"Just sweet?"

Nod*

"Huh, usually I find that flavor to be a little tangy. It's cherry by the way."

"...can I have another one?"

"Of course."

They sat like that until Eza came. Max fed Ezshi different flavors and asked them questions about the flavor until he had them try and guess which flavor they were eating. By then the cries were far and few between one another.

Later when the Caimunes had left the human was contacted by the med bay about a hearing test as 90% of those who hear a youngling Caimun wail go deaf. Max was ultimately fine and actually found the experience interesting as he had experienced a full inner/outer body vibration from the soundwaves coming from Ezshi

[youremyheaven]

The Absorbent Nature of Venus: An Astrological Exploration

I was inspired to make this post when I saw pictures of Bella Hadid with her new boyfriend, Adan Banuelos.

For context, Adan is a professional cowboy and Bella Hadid used to be an equestrian (she trained for the Olympics back in the day). Bella's new pictures (after a long absence from social media) feature her in all her horse girl glory. But I couldn't help but notice how Bella has a tendency to morph into her boyfriend(s).

This is not to say that she adopts a persona that is entirely alien to her, but more so that she channels one aspect of her personality and lets it take centre stage. With Adan, she is the laid-back horse girl, channelling the side of her that grew up on a farm in Santa Barbara riding horses.

Prior to this, she was dating Marc Kalman who is an art director. Idk how many of you are familiar with those "pov : you're talking to an art director at a party" reels/shorts/tiktoks but Marc fits that bill to a tee. He's the edgy, weird alternative androgynous guy and in the 2 years that Bella was with him, she morphed into a caricature of him almost.

her y2k style had a huge impact on fashion trends/pop culture but it soon kind of became a parody, as it seems a bit over the top to be wearing 25 things that do not belong together.

There was also a drastic shift in Bella's public image; she was more earnest & open; this period also saw her at her fashion nerdiest as she openly spoke about her love of finding and collecting "vintage" designer pieces from the 90s and 2000s. He was the weird edgy art director, she was the weird edgy art kid.

The only other man she dated publicly before Marc was The Weeknd and if you look at her style/persona from this period, you can see a tendency to opt for darker, grungier aesthetics. She herself has called this her "sexbot" era.

Its crazy but almost every picture of the two of them together feature both of them wearing black😂😂

This brings me to what I hope to discuss today, which is the absorbent nature of Venus.

Bella Hadid is Purvaphalguni Moon & Rising and is a Venusian. Venus is the planet of beauty, harmony, love, creativity etc. Venus exalts in Pisces ("exaltation"= it functions at its best). Pisces being a watery sign and the final sign of the zodiac is very telling in this context. Pisces is the culmination of the zodiac and contains the qualities of every preceding sign (this is why they're so chaotic lol, they have too much going on) and in water, which is where life originated, everything is at home. Pisces thus has the unique ability to find beauty in everything; water signs are known for their empathy, intuition and psychic abilities, this is because water holds the qualities of everything within it. Scientists have purported about "water memory" and water's ability to remember is linked to its natives high sensitivity, more than literal memory, its a kind of cosmic memory or inner knowing that I refer to in this context. Pisces natives tend to report psychic abilities more than any other sign in my observation and to be psychic/clairvoyant/clairsentient/claircognizant/ clairaudient is essentially to have a higher degree of empathy/sensitivity than most people. Although in some cases it may apply to tropical Pisces natives, what I'm speaking of here primarily applies to Sidereal Pisces natives.

Its easy to see how water absorbs information and retains memory but we must ponder upon why Venus, the planet of love, beauty etc exalts in a water sign and why so, in Pisces specifically. Pisces' all consuming all absorbent nature is the essential or true nature of love, beauty & harmony, to absorb, hold and possess all that there is and all that there will be, without trying to restrict it or limit it (water has no shape or form, it takes the form of whatever its poured into, pointing to the adaptability of these natives to get along with anyone or belong anywhere). Understanding love as devotion means allowing yourself to be consumed by it, it borders on religious fervour because you're losing all sense of yourself and giving your all. Its to give until you yourself are lost in it, with no sense of boundary between you & God or you and your lover (Sufi poetry extols this).

Only someone who has the ability to have this kind of all encompassing, profound divine kind of love for others, for creation, for source has the ability to connect to the ether and make art. there is a reason why the most spiritual art often tends to be abstract, there is much that cannot be expressed logically or in a straightforward way. much can be said without using language or words, some things are understood in a far more abstract way, its understood by the senses, by the subconscious, not the rational, thinking mind.

Beauty then, is the ability to perceive beyond the surface, there is nothing shallow or superficial about it, it is to understand the sum or whole of something, its essence, its core and understand its value and why its separate from the rest. True beauty then is rare but there is immense beauty all around us. Both these things are true. This is the true nature of Venus which is also the planet of refinement, it sees value in things that are unpolished, raw and original wholly but also in what is practiced, deliberate and refined. Venus is a planet of immense contradictions as the themes associated with the planet itself are contradictory in nature. To know or experience love, beauty, creativity etc one must also be well acquainted with its opposite. There's no middle ground and there's nothing lukewarm, you have to go all in. To understand and appreciate beauty truly, one must face brutal ugliness, to know the nature of creativity or to access it, you must first experience the lack of it. Its out of nothingness that things manifest but this means nothingness must first be experienced.

Sorry to have gone off on a tangent (me with everything I post lol) but its important to understand the nature of Venus in this specific context because its not the other attributes that makes Venus so absorbent of others influence. Its such a creative energy for the same reason, it absorbs and is influenced by absolutely everything. However, it can be hard for Venusian natives to feel as though they have a strong sense of self.

Granted that the "self" is an illusory concept and we are all an amalgam of numerous influences (people, places, culture, literature etc), Venusian natives are more susceptible to lacking true individuality since they absorb projections far too easily. This is also why Venusians are so highly desirable. You can always tell when someone's Venusian or has an exalted Venus, they are projected onto HEAVILY by others, but by having desire projected onto them, they become more desirable. We fall in love with the reflections we see in others and dislike those who project our shadows (this is literally a Jungian concept, v fascinating pls look it up). Venus inspires others to project unattainability, mystery, romance, beauty and desire and the more they see it, the more it manifests.

However this has its pitfalls. Without solid grounding, Venusians turn into chameleons who are constantly morphing into their environment; they are known for their hospitality and pleasing demeanour because of their innate ability to pick up on these cues and behave accordingly. Bella Hadid herself is self admittedly a "people pleaser" (Venusian natives struggle with this a lot).

What does it mean to not have a solid sense of self and constantly be serving as a mirror to others?

We see Bella's shifting style/demeanour/persona with every boyfriend. There is rather embarrassing clip of her speaking with a French accent (juxtaposed against an old clip of her using AAVE). Venusians are more prone to picking up accents/emulating the behaviour of those around them.

The Venusian tendency to absorb can extend to picking up accents, mannerisms, style, self-presentation, persona etc it can sometimes be very superficial but in some cases natives immerse themselves in it so deeply than they live their lives under the guise of a pseudo persona borrowed from someone else.

This video of Bella is a good example. If you've watched her in other videos you'll know that she does not usually speak/present herself this way. If you watch this video of Carla Bruni also discussing her iconic looks (it came out in the same year 2021, several months before Bella did hers) you can see how Bella is emulating Carla in her video.

Now its quite well known that Bella Hadid "copied" Carla Bruni's face through plastic surgery. This is what I mean by some Venusian natives taking the absorption thing too far. We imitate the things we want to embody/what we're inspired by, Venus is a planet of constant refinement/self improvement, while its good to be inspired by people we look up to, it does not bode well for one to embody them completely, stripping yourself of your own identity. This is also why Venus in 12h (Pisces) is said to be illusory. Its hard for these natives to discern what love really is, since their natural inclination is to simply embrace things at face value. This is why they are susceptible to abusive and toxic relationships, simply because they are blinded by their own loving nature and cannot see the faults in their lovers even when its plainly obvious to others (think Bella & The Weeknd).

Let us look at Miss Ariana Grande. She has Mars in Bharani atmakaraka.

Ariana has gone from baby voiced teen star to blackfishing r&b singer to vaguely asian looking in the span of her career.

She's also changed her voice, speaking style & mannerisms MANY times.

I don't think enough people talk about how Miss Grande essentially stole Victoria Monet's mannerisms, voice tone, speaking style etc

Ariana essentially emulated this woman and that was her at the peak of her career. She's to Ariana what Carla Bruni is to Bella.

Its really unfortunate that Ariana changes races every few years like they're a passing fad and this is a really unfortunate manifestation of her Venusian influence.

Her Venusian influence is also really obvious in her music, especially her Bharani Mars because her music is very sensual but also straight up crass and horny, there's also a tendency for her to use revenge-y themes (break up with your gf im bored?? yes, and??)

Claire Nakti had spoken about how this purple blue-y iridescent esque lighting is very Venusian and consistently used in films by Venus natives. I found this true of Ariana's stage sets/design when she's on tour.

god is a woman is a very Venusian coded song/music video, from the colour palette to the Yonic imagery at display.

Brad Pitt is a male Bella Hadid in the sense that he has a tendency to morph into his girlfriends. He went from Cali stoner surfer guy when married to Jennifer to humanitarian serious filmmaker when he was with Angelina. He likes to switch up his persona based on his partner at the moment. He has a Purvashada Stellium (Mercury, Mars & Ketu)

Johnny Depp is known for his broadly European/British accent despite the fact that he's from Kentucky/Florida. He's a Purvashada Moon

Madonna is another celebrity who is notorious for her fake accent. She lived in England briefly after marrying the British director Guy Ritchie and spoke with a British accent.

Many have accused Madonna of being a wannabe Angelina Jolie when she started to focus on humanitarian work & adopted several children in the mid 2000s. She is a Purvaphalguni Moon and Rising.

Camille Rowe (Purvashada stellium; sun, mercury and saturn) is often accused of having a fake French accent as she mostly grew up in America.

Hilaria Baldwin (Purvashada sun) is infamous for pretending to be Spanish, speaking with a fake Spanish accent and giving her numerous children Spanish names despite the fact that she's a plain old white woman.

Austin Butler is by now infamous for speaking like Elvis (he's now working with a coach to lose his Elvis accent lmao), he has Mars in Purvaphalguni as his amatyakaraka.

Lindsay Lohan (Bharani Moon, Mars in Purvashada amatyakaraka) has also switched accents and often spoke with an Arabic accent and has had an on & off relationship with Islam. Its unclear whether she's still practicing the faith but at one point she did convert. I do not mean to ridicule someone's faith or use it as an example of Venusian persona switching but a lot of Hollywood celebrities have a tendency to experiment with Eastern religions/traditions/culture like its some trend or fad and drop it when they lose interest. I do not have enough information to make a clear judgement but LiLo has had an unstable public image to say the least. I sincerely hope she is peaceful and safe.

John Malkovich is another celebrity who passes off as a European even though he's from mid-western America. He has a hard to place accent. He is Purvaphalguni Rising

Aishwarya Rai is known in India for being fake or "plastic" (I'm Indian) she has an unnatural non-Indian accent despite the fact that she's lived in India her whole life. She is a Purvashada Moon.

Numerous celebrities whose public image/persona is incongruent or at odds with their real personality also tend to have major Venus influence in their chart.

Charlie Chaplin is the father of slapstick comedy and is very well known by the persona he created for himself but irl he has been described as "sadistic" (by Marlon Brando and others) and he's known to have been a terrible person all over (multiple teen wives, abusive to his children among other things). He has Bharani Venus conjunct Mars and Jupiter in Purvashada conjunct Ketu

Elisabeth Moss is known for having played several iconic feminist characters but irl she's a scientologist. She has Ketu in Purvashada

This absorptive quality of Venus can also manifest positively. Meryl Streep, Bharani Moon is known for her uncanny ability to do just about any accent and completely blend into her character.

I will add more examples as I find them but for now this is it!! If you think of any others do let me know!!<33

[riizebabie444]

☆ ─── hello and welcome to today’s tarot reading which is about your first impression of your future spouse and your future spouse’s first impression of you, with some other tidbits of information about them and you.

☆ ─── be sure to check out my other readings and don’t forget to share and give feedback. disclaimer: all readings done are for entertainment only. please do not use my tarot readings as a replacement for legitimate advice.

☆ ─── picking your pile: take a deep breath and allow your soul to centre itself. when you feel your mind balanced and cleared, allow yourself to be drawn to an image. your eyes may gravitate to one, or you may close your eyes and feel which image is calling out.

☆ ─── masterlist. paid readings. exchange rules.

donations. games/events. feedback.

☆ ─── 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

your first impression of them: i'm getting masculine energy that may seem like they are in a job or position of high power. for example, you might look at them and immediately assume they are involved in jobs related to law, military, police etc. it's possible that these may be their professions, however, for some it may just be a first impression. their aura as a whole is penetrative; they seem to have intellectual power, they have an authoritative demeanour. very boss-like. they seem cool and confident. not entirely lacking of emotions but you may immediately think "oh, this person is totally emotionally constipated." but i don't think this is entirely the case. they do have emotions and perhaps i picked up those professions earlier because this person has strong feelings when it comes to justice. but like the profession itself, they require their emotions to be strained because life is too difficult for emotions to rule their life. it's possible that for some of you, you may assume they are married at a first glance. for some, they may have children or during your first meetings, they may mention children or show you them. so naturally, you would assume they are married. let's not be homewreckers here, for the small number of you which this applies to. this is just a first impression, not an absolute truth and by no means does this suggest you should break apart a marriage or family. it could also be that they are someone who seems desperate to marry. you see them as lonely, needing of a true and passionate companion. and it could also suggest that when you first meet your person, you know from the very beginning that you will marry them. you know, one of those people that you can't help crushing on when you barely know them, and before you know it, you have a whole wedding and family planned out with them in your imagination. be careful not to fall in love too quickly, because this person might bring about a lot of delay. a delay of emotions, of love, of work. whatever it is, adventures end just as quickly as they start. you understand this from your first impressions of them, but it may be something you choose to ignore.

their first impression of you: firstly, they get a mix of both masculine and feminine energy from you. you seem to be someone who has control, someone who is active and knows what to do with their life. but they also see from the first impression that you have control over other things, like emotions. you may seem uptight at first. you come off as a total perfectionist. perhaps a workaholic, too. you seem to have mastered a lot of skill, but you come off to them as a person that is too engrossed in self-development. don't get me wrong, self-development is good. but their first impression tells me they think you are all "me, me, me!", putting all the work into yourself and never giving any effort to anyone else unless it allows you to achieve your own goals by doing so. they might also think you are too delusional about your financial state. at the time they meet you, you could have the "i manifested this!" mindset, but they may not believe in things like manifestation, and so, they assume you are delusional. they also have the first impression that you are a reckless spender. they'd rather you see and understand how you became into your position by your own efforts, and not what the universe has manifested for you. they might also see you initially as someone who moves too fast. they'll get to know you and won't be able to keep up. they think you should slow down, "hold your horses!" - especially in regards to career and money.

☆ ─── 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

your first impression of them: i believe you will have a hard time deciding on what your first impression of them is. you could typically be the type of person who categorises people as "good or bad" and use your judgements to decide whether they are worthy of being in your life. but it will be hard for you to decide with this person. you don't know whether you should avoid them or keep seeing them. this could also suggest that you initially find this person indecisive. though overall, i think despite the confusion, they are a person that seems balanced and brings you balance. they might seem quite fiery, perhaps a fire sign or fire energy. they may come off as clumsy, but they are a person with fantastical thoughts and ideas. you might also think they are an "ace". good at everything, excels in anything they try. despite their clumsiness, they seem to always find success. you may perhaps meet them in a work environment, so you see more than one side of them. this is why it is hard for me to say you have a clear and concise first impression. they seem to know themselves, never wavering in fear. they believe in themselves above anything and you would admire this about them. they may initially seem too loud, too energetic. but they are deeply passionate and courageous.

their first impression of you: i immediately see that for some of you, when you and your person meet or make first impressions, you will be celebrating a personal achievement. perhaps a new job, new home, you quit smoking, or even something small and related to self-care. whatever this goal is, it is special to you and it will likely be one of the very first things they get to know about you. so initially, they will be proud, despite not knowing you well, or at all. they might also think your small goal is cute, and that you are cute for being so proud and excited for achieving it. go you! hard work definitely pays off and they get that vibe from you. you work hard to achieve something and you take time to admire all the results of your efforts. like a gardener who can't stop staring at their garden - this is the image they have of you. they think that you are the type of person who goes by the motto "no matter what life brings, it is a learning experience." however, they may also wonder if you are judgemental, or quick to judge. i don't see this in a negative way, but rather in an innocent way. you make quick judgement and speak or act in certain ways without realising how judgemental it could be until afterwards. they will notice this early on. and for some of you, they may think you are too high up in your head. it's good to be intuitive, to have compassion and empathy. but sometimes, they think you need to escape your mind and have a taste of the real world. lastly, for some of you, they may think you are so mysterious.

☆ ─── 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

your first impression of them: you think they are a total loner. i'll try to be nice about it but the loner energy is way too strong. i think you will think negatively of them at first, someone who lacks friends and perhaps even family. it could be a red flag to you - there must be a reason they have no one close in their lives, no? i think they have a very lonely and sorrowful look and demeanour about them that makes you want to stay away. alternatively, it may mean you will meet them at a time when either you or them (or both) are going through a period of loneliness and social withdrawal, and for some of you, a breakup. you may think this person needs to reflect on their self-worth. i'm sorry if it may not be ideal for you to hear, but it's likely your person is going through it and you simply do not want to deal with it. yet, at the same time, you have these impressions of them but you can't stop thinking about them, worrying about them. the thoughts that keep you up at night, "i don't even know this person, i don't want to know this person but why can't i sleep? why am i so worried if they are doing okay or not?" there is still a good part of you that wants to reach out and i hope it will. keep in mind, these are just first impressions. their attitude can change at anytime so be aware that they may believe "if you don't love me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best." i'm not attempting to intimidate you into checking on them and forcing yourself to be in their life, but keep it in mind. because you will realise later on that they are not the person you had thought they were.

their first impression of you: they may look at you and think "wow, you come from a really good family." this is in terms of abundance, wealth, finance, success. they immediately assume you are someone who has been materialistically provided for. for some, they may tease you about "mommy's/daddy's money" and whether this is the case or not is none of their business at all. if i were you, pile three, i'd tell them straight away that you will not tolerate teasing about your financial position, because it's most likely they said it due to their own insecurities being triggered from the sight of you. don't let words like this dismay you. it could also be the case that someone else says this to you, or about you, and they will defend you. for some, a friend or colleague may say demeaning comments about your wealth and they will say "well, where is your money? stop being jealous." they may not know you well, but their first impressions at least make them want to defend you. however, it is no use in denying that they also had these fleeting thoughts too. that you are power hungry, the money got to your head. however, they will soon realise you are like a double-edged sword. money is good, and money is bad. success is good, and success is bad. "heavy is the head that wears the crown." you may also tease them, and that is why they think you are quite boastful and tyrannical, but as i've said throughout. this is not a bad thing because genuine, long-lasting impressions are very rarely the same as first impressions. and for a number of you, they may think you are generous, or would like to know how generous you are. not in a "buying them things" kind of way, but how you choose to help others, and how much of your resources (financial, emotional, time) you are willing to give to others.

© lueurais — please do not copy, steal or repost anywhere.

[birdofmay]

I briefly want to talk about why "proving your diagnosis" to strangers online is absolutely useless, and especially if you want to prove it to a stranger.

I'll use two documents I was allowed to upload.

What does this photo say or prove to you? Well, first of all, absolutely nothing if you don't understand German. And all my documents are in German. This is it in English:

"Diagnosis: Motor coordination disorder with dynamic equinus"

I don't even know how to translate this properly. It's not developmental coordination disorder, aka dyspraxia. It doesn't even have an ICD code. Doctors love not to use ICD codes when it comes to the development of disabled people where I live, they rather describe the symptoms. All it means is that I struggle with motor coordination, either due to brain damage or specifically because of my cerebral palsy. And that I limp (equinus).

But does it really prove that? No, all you know is that somebody took a picture of this document and uploaded it. It has no date and no name and you can't even see the name of the institution. Because you always censor that, that's basic internet safety.

Another one:

In English:

"You are applying for coverage of the costs of early intervention at the early intervention centre [redacted] for your above-mentioned child.

According to the medical opinion I have received, your child requires early intervention because of an imminent or significant disability."

If you know German law, you'll realise that this is an older document because they don't say "wesentliche Behinderung" anymore now. Alright. But does it tell you that I'm disabled and was in early intervention? Does it tell you that there are medical documents that prove that I have a significant disability?

No, it tells you that somebody uploaded a medical document. And that sensitive information is redacted. And you always redact sensitive information, that's basic internet safety.

I could be someone who has access to these documents, maybe because a family member is disabled. Or because it's my job and the document belongs to one of my patients.

It would be even easier for autistics who really were in early intervention and group therapies or special education, and therefore know many peers who "have it worse", so to speak. Maybe I'm friends with someone who's severely developmentally delayed, and they once sent me something that proves their significant disability. I could censor and upload that, and I could start roleplaying because 1. I absolutely know what their life is like and 2. I have the "proof" to back it up.

So what would really prove it?

I'd have to take a picture of an identity card or maybe even my disability ID card, and then I'd need to start a video call to show them my face and, again, my ID. That would prove that I am me, and that the documents belong to me.

And you don't do that with strangers, especially not internet strangers.

So you see, there's absolutely no way to reliably prove your disability to internet strangers.

Therefore, whenever somebody asks you to prove your diagnosis, just ignore them. You can't prove it. You just can't.

[huginsmemory]

The Eye of Micheal design and the Zia Sun Symbol

I'm not exactly the best person to talk about this, since I'm not Zia/Tsʾíiyʾamʾé (an Indigenous people group from what is today called New Mexico, for those who don't know) but I'm also Indigenous and this is something that has been really bugging me for a while.

The new eye of Micheal design in Stampede is very clearly heavily based off the Zia Sun symbol, a symbol that is found on the state of New Mexico's flag... and is originally a sacred symbol of the Zia people that has been grossly misappropriated by the state itself and internationally.

ID: Two photos. Left is of the flag of New Mexico, with the Zia Sun symbol in the middle in red on a yellow background. There are four rays emanating from each cardinal direction from a circle in the middle, in such a way it forms what could be a 'square cross'. The rays touch the circle.

Right is a screen cap from episode 10 of tristamp, showing Wolfwoods contract. The symbol of the Eye of Micheal is on it. Instead of four from each cardinal direction, 'north' has three medium length rays, and 'south' has three long rays, while 'east' and 'west' have only one short ray emanating from (but not touching) the centre circle. As a result it looks like a typical Christian cross with a lengthened 'south'.

History

This article provides a really good background on it, but to summarize:

The symbol is an exceptionally significant religious symbol that represents the Zia themselves (along with other specific meanings) and is involved in religious healing and wellness processes; it was originally a secret symbol. However, the symbol was stolen from the nation by an anthropologist who was working with the nation, when he stole a piece of pottery with the symbol on it. The piece of pottery with the sacred symbol was then showcased in a museum, where another anthropologist took the design and submitted it for the flag of New Mexico; thus, it ended up becoming the state flag of New Mexico as we know today.

As a result, the design became legally public property, without the consent of the Zia, who now have no control over how the sacred symbol is used, and it has been grossly misappropriated and exploited by non-Zia, both within state and internationally. The Zia peoples have been lobbying to raise awareness of this issue, to both stop exploitation and frivolous use of the symbol which is considered desecration, and also have requested that those who want to use the symbol to ask for consent and for them to provide funds to the education of their children.

How this applies to tristamp

The Zia Sun symbol is, well, to put it bluntly, basically used as the symbol of the Eye of Micheal, just altered to more represent a typical Christian cross... something which would be considered misappropriation and desecration of the symbol. This ESPECIALLY so as the Eye of Micheal is clearly a Christian cult; misappropriating an Indigenous religious symbol and saying that it represents Christianity and a Christian cult no less, is, as an Indigenous person, EXTREMELY disrespectful, considering the history of Christianity and how it's been used to actively destroy Indigenous religion and culture. Also, as the symbol has been said to represent the Zia people, and is related to religious healing and wellness processes, having the symbol basically be used to represent an Christian cult of assassins who essentially medically experiment and abuse Wolfwood who is Hispanic-coded for their own gain is... Not great.

I overall understand that since as Wolfwood is heavily Hispanic coded, the crew behind stampede likely wanted to tie more of that into his background, and so seeing the Zia Sun symbol thought that would be a good way to nod to a Hispanic background (instead of, I dunno maybe not white washing him), but then failed to do proper research on it.

Going forward

Ok, so what does that practically mean for fans? Well, again... I'm not really the best person to say exactly what, but if this was my own nations sacred symbol, and by going from what I've read on the requests about the Zia Sun symbol then here's a few pointers:

I'd just avoid using the design in fanart. Hell, it's only showed up in tristamp, so there's plenty you can work with without the design, based around just general Christian imagery. I know a lot of people really like giving Wolfwood tattoos of the 'eye of micheal' symbol, since tattoos are hot, but I'd ask to please just use Christian symbols instead. I've seen so much nsfw fanart with essentially the Zia Sun Symbol...

For art you've already posted with the Zia sun symbol; it'd be nice to remove the art and put another version of the art up without the sun symbol.

Also, I know I've seen people talking about getting tattoos of it as a quiet nod to trigun... Please don't. It's more likely that people will recognize it as a Zia sun symbol rather than a Trigun symbol which might be an awkward conversation for you.

I do want to say this: I know most people don't know about this, and honestly I didn't know about the Zia sun symbol issue until a couple months ago when talking with a friend about Trigun. It's fine if you didn't know before! We live and learn and grow, and what matters is that going forward you adjust your behaviours.

TLDR: The 'Eye of Micheal' symbol is very clearly an adjusted Zia sun symbol, a sacred and originally secret symbol of the Zia people that was stolen from them and has been grossly misappropriated and exploited by both the state of New Mexico, and internationally. The Zia people as a result have asked people to not use the symbol without their consent. Within tristamp the use of the Zia sun symbol to represent a murderous Christian cult is extremely disrespectful and would be considered desecration, considering how Christianity has historically (and continues to) help destroy Indigenous culture and religion. As a result, it is suggested that artists avoid using it within fanart out of respect.

[undiscovered-horizon]

The clockmaker, the crow and the mantis

[contains vulgar language]

SUMMARY: When an infamous assassin breaks into his office, Kaz Brekker is offered a part in a strange scheme. Despite their mutual dislike, the two might yet have a common goal.

(enemies to lovers I guess?)

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.2k

A feeling of a cold breeze brushing against his clothes makes Kaz stop immediately - he hasn't opened the window in weeks. The barely noticeable gust of wind tugs gently at the paperwork in front of him. Flames dance ever so slightly on their wicks. The darkness pooling in the corners of the room, where the candlelight can’t quite reach, seems deeper, more imposing, as though it wasn't the lack of light creating it but something much more alive, much more sinister.

Something moves out of the corner of his eye, bordering realism and phantasm. He gets up quickly, hand gripping the decorative cane that had seen its fair share of blood. Calculated, careful steps lead him to the centre of the room as Kaz studies the shapeless shadows encircling him like an ominous vignette.

His heart picks up its pace. A muffled sound of chatter and laughter reaches his ears from behind the heavy door. Horse hooves clatter against cobblestone, a wooden carriage quietly creeks as it rolls through the streets somewhere outside the building. But not a sound, except his own laboured breathing, comes from inside his office. The air doesn’t smell differently and even his eyes can’t quite discern between malicious darkness and the shadows he’s so used to being surrounded by.

By all accounts, Kaz is alone in his office that couldn’t have been tainted by an intruder. Despite his senses not earning him any useful information, he knows his privacy has been breached. It’s unclear what to call this sensation but it appears only in certain kinds of people - those who have been tried by particular ways of life. Their consciousness as if expands, almost miraculously sensing long knives in the dead of night.

Kaz swings his cane at a rather formless shadow by his side. Just as he expected, the staff comes into contact with something. Right there, where light meets darkness and safety of visibility becomes an impenetrable abyss, tips of gloved fingers appear, holding his cane mid-air. The grip is strong, textbook as if. Foreseen.

"Maybe listen to me first, you knucklehead,” resounds from the darkness.

He has to take a step back as the stranger emerges from the veil of the night, both of them still tightly gripping either side of the cane. The deep hood covers their eyes, making the lower half of their face easily visible. Kaz immediately notices a characteristic, pinkish scar ending about an inch below their right eye. The first button of their long, dark double-breasted coat is left open, revealing a grey shirt with moth-shaped collar pins. There’s so many pouches and pockets attached to their clothes - he couldn’t count them if he tried. Even more, Kaz can’t even begin to guess what they hide. A golden chain of their pocket watch glistens in the dim candlelight as they move forward, pushing Kaz farther back.

There’s only one wraith haunting Ketterdam that fits this description:

"Mantis,” he spits out.

"You know Krolmeister, the old clockmaker?" she asks calmly. Despite their less-than-friendly meeting, the assassin appears hardly bothered. One can only assume she has, in fact, been greeted in much worse ways and if one was to believe the wild legends people tell about her, even after applying a generous grain of salt, she can compete for the Dirtyhands title with him.

"I don't see how he has anything to do with you breaking into my office."

"He's the direct, well, indirect, reason why I'm here but we'll get to this in a moment. Mister Krolmeister has offered me a contract. A contract for you, to be precise.” She pauses for a moment, no doubt studying his demeanour, the reaction for such news. Her own face, however, remains just as unmoved making it impossible to say what she makes of his behaviour. Kaz clenches his jaw, already preparing for a fight with someone he can never measure up to. Part of him isn’t surprised in the slightest - after all, in what other way could the Bastard of the Barrell possibly pass away? Mantis leans offhandedly close to his face and continues in a voice barely above a whisper: “Now, you and I both have heads with more use than just wearing hats, so you're probably wondering what you had done to poor Bernard Krolmeister for him to have you killed. The short answer is nothing but the long answer is a lot more interesting. Care to listen?"

The woman lets go of the cane, giving Kaz a chance to strike her but he only lowers the staff to lean on it once again. He may be proud but he’s not stupid - if she had indeed come to kill him, he would have already been long dead, before his mind could even compute the final blow.

"Do not waste my time. Speak."

If he was trying to appear menacing, he has failed. Mantis casually strolls past him, towards a chair by the desk. She sits down, crosses her legs and only then gives Kaz an explanation: "My expertise on the matter tells me that Krolmesiter is nothing but a proxy, a dummy middle-man to blame if something goes south. Blackmail, probably, but that doesn't matter for now. That scenario suggests that there's someone above him, a puppet master if you will. And that puppet master, whoever they are, has good business in having you gone. Considering those two elements, the proxy and the determination, I'm certain you could accurately guess who's truly behind that contract.”

Kaz can’t help the scowl on his face. Her perplexing audacity, a clear and yet indirect disregard for him, makes the man grip the model crow atop his cane ever tighter. His teeth clatter against one another while Kaz contemplates the nature of a violent act that is bound to take her down a peg. Even after his list reaches double digits in just a few seconds, he knows better than to try anything - not yet, at least.

"You’re just a murder, Mantis, no matter how expensive.” 

His words don’t bother the woman as she continues to play with a paperweight on the desk. Her fingers make him wonder for a moment - even when gloved, they’re clearly thin and long, without a sign of heavy labour on them. They move swiftly and elegantly across the figurine, feeling its dips and rises as though she’s trying to remember them. Those are hands of a pianist or a prestidigitator, someone who’s precision borders on a miracle. 

She’s not even looking at him. Kaz feels his patience running thin. One can still work as an assassin without a finger or two, no? Without a whole hand, perhaps? 

“Why should I believe even a single word of this fairytale built on hypotheticals?" he grits through his teeth.

The gentle movement of her fingers stops abruptly. Finally, Mantis looks away from the brass paperweight. Kaz still can’t see her eyes but he can feel them - there’s something primal about her gaze like a predator studying its prey for any sign of hesitation. Heavy paperweight or not, if he turns his back to her, it might just be the last thing he does. 

“True, I am but a humble murderer.” Mantis mockingly puts a hand on her chest and bows her head. “But I’m really fucking good at it, too. I’m not asking for belief. Just trust my reputation.”

Kaz doesn’t answer for a longer while. His eyes bore into the hooded figure sitting in front of him. Disillusioned, he knows she’s doing exactly the same thing. The observation makes him even angrier but for an entirely different reason - perhaps, they are, after all, similar in some way. The restless urge sitting under his skin gets only more urgent. Kaz needs to hit something. Now.

“Why are you telling me all of this? Want me to pay you for telling me someone wants me dead?”

The man scoffs. It’s no news to him - everyday someone tries to get under his skin. Some figuratively, others literally.

"I need you to play dead for the next two days,” she states candidly. “You're silent, so I'm guessing you're interested. If I'm correct, and there's hardly any possibility I'm not, after I tell Bernard that the mighty Kaz Brekker had been dealt with, he's sure to inform a direct messenger between him and the possible blackmailer. I follow him, learn a thing or two and get back to you. And you'll get half of the reward. How's that?"

In slow limps, Kaz narrows the space between them. Mantis is still sitting, making the man tower over her but he knows it’s not much of an advantage. He leans further on his cane moving his face obscenely close to hers. An aroma of rainwater and grease fills his nostrils as he takes in a ragged breath:

"What do you get out of this deal?"

"Aside from like a hundred thousand Kruge? Peace,” she says with a shrug. Mantis looks away for a moment. She puckers her lips, sighs and turns back to him. “I don't like you, Kaz Brekker.” The way her words pierce the tension between them leaves no doubts about their honesty. “Damn, I'd probably open champagne if your head rolled into the gutter.” A light shake of head before she continues. “But you are, I'm afraid, a necessary evil. Say, if you do die, who will take your place on this throne of filth called the Barrel? You're a shitstain but you're tolerable."

To his own surprise, Kaz is speechless. Out of all the things she could ask in return for the information, Mantis only wants the Barrel to not get more problematic than it already is. As strangely kindhearted as it may sound, he continues to have a hard time tolerating her condescending attitude. Kaz Brekker is the king of this steaming pile of shit and to her, he appears to be nothing beyond an over glorified guard dog. Not even an imposing one, it seems.

"Those are some big words for someone who kills to make a living, don't you think?” He tilts his head in a futile attempt to see more of her face. “I suppose it takes a shitstain to know a shitstain."

"As much as both of us hate to admit it, a day has come when we need each other. Anyway, I won't take any more of your time. Places to go, people to kill, you know how it goes.”

Mantis throws her legs over the armrest of the chair and in swift strides makes her way towards the window. Considering her line of business, doors of any kind were prohibited. In a clearly experienced motion, she places a flat metal bar between the window frame and the windowsill, opening her exit in a smooth act. Before she climbs through his window only to disappear like a dream at the break of dawn, Kaz stops her one last time:

"You should be wary. Birds tend to eat praying mantis."

He watches as her lips curve into a cocky smile. "Only if he can catch her."

And with those words, she dives through the window, dissolving into the black night as though it was his fantasy that brought her to life. Kaz stands alone in his office. Nothing about the room has changed, even the brass paperweight is placed exactly as it was before Mantis put her hand on it. In some way, the assassin was never there. Despite her elusive nature, the smell of grease and rain will linger in his nose for a few more days, haunting him like the wraith of Ketterdam she is.

Jesper knows something is wrong the moment he notices Kaz’s bitter expression. Although his boss appears to wear a grimace most of the time, the wrinkle between his eyebrows seems slightly deeper than it did just a few hours ago. He’s clenching his jaw, looking at the people in his club with a patronizing scowl.

"You alright, boss?" he asks when Kaz reaches the bar counter.

But Brekker isn’t fast to answer. He downs the drink Jesper got for himself. Gripping the edge of the counter like his life depends on it, he begins to explain:

"I'm dead, Jesper."

Kaz isn’t funny. Truth be told, he doesn’t seem to have even a speck of a sense of humour. Despite that, Jesper dismisses the notion that his boss could be serious. It sounds ridiculous.

"You look pretty alive to me,” he says in a slow, reluctant tone. Maybe he missed something obvious?

An accusatory index finger makes Jesper unknowingly lean back slightly. "Tell everyone I'm dead, stabbed in my own office. And do it now."

"Hold on, what?” He shakes his head. “Why would you be dead?"

"Just do it, Jesper.” Kaz lets out a defeated sigh. The smart choice just so happens to be the one he hates.  “You'll know in due time. All we can do now is wait."

Jesper watches Kaz’s back as he walks back up the stairs into his office. A familiar anxiety blooms in his chest - something big is about to happen and he might just have the front-row seat.

[llyfrenfys]

On Cadi as the Welsh equivalent of Queer

(image: screenshot of the entry for Cadi in Geiriadur Prifysgol Cymru)

Some of you may already know this, but for those who don't, Cadi is a Welsh word which is analogous to the word Queer in English. I say analogous, since their meanings aren't quite a 1:1 match. But for shorthand, Welsh equivalent of Queer sums 90% of it up.

It has been suggested tentatively by some to use Cadi as the Welsh translation of Queer. I'm going to explore arguments for and against, but ultimately the choice to use/not use Cadi as a 1:1 with Queer is entirely up to you. Warning that this post is quite long, but I do hope you'll stick with it- please let me know what you think in the notes!

Without further ado, let's get into it:

Definition of Cadi:

Cadi is a term which has existed in Welsh since the 17th Century (roughly) and generally refers to effeminacy in men (real or perceived). Over time, the meaning of the term has expanded to refer to other (Queer) things as well. But the term itself largely has been applied to Queer men and queer masculinities through time.

The term itself derives from the girl's name Catrin and you will come across women who call themselves Cadi as a shortening of their name (like Liz from Elizabeth and so on). In this way, there is a strong point of comparison to be had with the English queer pejorative Nancy, which also derives from a girl's name.

Can Cadi be considered the Welsh equivalent of Queer?

So now to the real meat of the post. Can Cadi be considered the Welsh equivalent of Queer? The answer to that is, unsurprisingly, complicated.

As described above, Cadi is a term which has had strong associations with male effeminacy (real or perceived) and has close parallels to the English term Nancy, which is also nearly exclusively applied to Queer men and masculinities. What this presents is a quandary and I'll explain what I mean by that. But first, we need to outline the history of LGBTQIA+ terminology in general (in the West).

LGBTQIA+ Terminology and the inclination towards cis gay language:

This is a huge huge topic which I cannot possibly do justice to here alone, so I'd highly recommend reading up on these topics when you have time, but for the sake of brevity, here is a tldr on the history of LGBTQIA+ terminology (slightly UK-centric but similar events also happened in the US and Canada, as well as other parts of Europe).

Campaign for Homosexual Equality (CHE) is a British Lesbian and Gay rights organisation founded in the 1960s, during a time of great social and political change. The organisation's membership grew and grew well into the 70s before declining in the 80s. It was during this time that some lesbian members of the organisation left citing erasure of lesbian issues and misogyny in the movement. CHE and similar gay and lesbian rights movements in this period had been inclined to centre gay men's issues in their activism, which understandably led to many lesbians feeling alienated. Some lesbians left in the late 70s and early 80s and began to form their own advocacy groups. This indirectly fed into a wider feminist upheaval at the time and led to the rise of lesbian feminism, which aimed to centre lesbian issues within feminism, but unfortunately (for complex historical reasons) did then contribute to the proliferation of rad\ical femi\nism within the Queer community, which then unfortunately contributed to the rise of tra\ns exclu\sionary rad\ical fem\inism. Regardless of the unfortunate rise of transphobia within the lesbian feminist movement, the original catalyst for the formation of these groups was a sense of alienation from the rest of the Queer community because gay men's issues had been prioritised over lesbian issues, when both could have been tackled together, with each other. This alienation was echoed in the names of organisations and events- many early homosexual rights groups only had homosexual or gay in their group names. It took many years before advocacy groups started adding 'and lesbian' to their names and events.

(For further reading, I would suggest watching this video by Verilybitchie about the history of lesbian erasure in homosexual advocacy and how that led to (some) lesbian groups excluding bi and trans people in the same way they were excluded by gay men)

What does that history mean for Cadi?:

Because of a history of lesbian (and by extension, women's) exclusion from homosexual advocacy groups, is Cadi the best term to use as a catch-all given its strong associations with men's expressions of Queerness? (namely, that as a pejorative it is largely aimed at femininity in men and subsequent assumed homosexuality). It is important to consider if using Cadi as an equivalent of Queer would centre a (typically cis) gay experience/expression of Queerness and if that would alienate other members of the LGBTQIA+ community.

However, a counterpoint to this would be that there are variations of the term Cadi which do include other experiences of Queerness:

Cadi ffan (similar to just 'Cadi')- typically used to describe femininity in men and boys [N. Wales]

Cadi genod/ Cadi merched (similar to above) - effeminate man/boy [N. Wales]

Cadi bechgyn - Romping girl, tomboy [N. Wales]

Cati fachgen - (similar to above)- Romping girl, tomboy [S. Wales]

Cadi Haf - Male maypole dancer dressed as a girl

They are, however, somewhat limited for use in reclamation and have to be qualified by another noun to indicate diversion from the original term's meaning.

But when talking about the term Cadi, we often speak in the abstract- without the context in which the term is used. So here are a few extracts from texts which use the term Cadi (or variants). Since this is a mostly spoken slang term, it doesn't turn up in print often, but there are a few examples to draw on.

Examples of Cadi in texts:

Page 164- Cwm Eithin by Hugh Evans (1931):

"DAWNSIO HAF Ceir darnodiad o'r ddefod hynafol dawnsio haf yn Y Gwyl- fedydd, 1823, tudal. 306, gan un a'i geilw ei hun “ Callestrwr,” fel yr arferid hi yn Callestr (Fflint, mae'n debyg). Ym mis Ebrill arferai o ddwsin i ugain o bobl ieuainc ymuno i baratoi ar gyfer y ddawns. Gwisgai'r dawnswyr eu crysau yn uchaf wedi eu haddurno ag ysnodennau a blodau. Cariai'r arweinydd fforch bren ar lun y llythyren Y. Gwnïid lliain o'r naill fraich i'r llall, ac addurnid y fforch ag amryw lestri arian, tebotiau, llwyau, cigweiniau, efc. Byddai gyda hwy grythor yn ei ddillad ei hun, “cadi” mewn gwisg merch, ac ynfytyn mewn gwisg ryfedd â phlu yn ei ben"

[emphasis mine]

This extract is the author's account of Dawnsio Haf- a Summer dance held on May Day and his investigations into it. At his time of writing (1931) the practice has died out, but later in this chapter he interviews an old woman from the Conwy Valley who participated in the dances as a child. Evans draws upon a source from 1823 for his description of Dawnsio Haf. In it, he mentions that 20 young dancers meet up for the dance wearing shirts decorated with ribbons and flowers. A leader carries a fork in the shape of the letter "Y"- between each point on the "Y" a cloth was strung with silverware dangling from it to make noise. With the 20 dancers would be a crwth-player (crythor), a Cadi in women's clothes and a fool with a feather on his cap and odd clothes.

This usage is quite archaic and refers to a folk dance- much like mumming or morris-dancing. There is however, a picture in the People's Collection Wales titled 'Cadi'r Big' taken by the prolific photographer John Tomas c. 1875, near Y Ro-wen:

Which is very interesting as Cadi'r Big has dried flowers and ribbons attached to their clothes, much like in the description in Cwm Eithin. This is very likely a picture of a "Cadi" from a Dawnsio Haf.

Page 4- Y Ddraig Binc Issue 4 (1994):

Y Ddraig Binc was a Welsh-language Queer magazine published by CYLCH, a gay and lesbian rights organisation based in Aberystwyth. The term Cadi-ffan is included in an article about the commercialisation of Queer identity in the magazine's fourth edition.

"...Nawr te, medd wrtho’i hun, be’ gymera’ i’r mis hwn, copi o GQ ynte Arena neu ydw i, efallai, yn teimlo’n ddigon ifanc a trendi am Sky? Ond aros funud, beth yw hyn? Dau gylchgrawn steil newydd a gwynt digamsyniol cadi-ffan arnyn nhw?

Ydy, mae’r hyn a oedd y tu hwnt i ddychymyg wedi digwydd. Mae grymoedd y farchnad rydd a chystadleuaeth wedi cyrraedd y byd cyhoeddi hoyw - rhaid bod Lêdi T wrth ei bodd. Nawr fe gaiff llanc hoyw ddewis o ddeunydd darllen sgleiniog, llawn erthyglau a hysbysebion yn arbennig ar ei gyfer ef a’i rywioldeb. Hwrê! Fedr hynny ddim bod yn beth drwg. Neu a fedr o?..."

[emphasis mine]

This humorous article (dealing with an important topic, mind) pokes fun at the arrival of Queer commercialisation. The article opens by explaining that there's a ruckus in the gay world (and not two old queens getting into fisticuffs)- but that this ruckus is taking place at WHSmith (UK stationery shop and newsagents)- apparent winner of this year's most vulgar uniform award. The author goes on to describe a hypothetical situation in which a gay man walks into a WHSmith to buy a magazine. He wonders whether to get a copy of GQ or Arena (men's style magazines- remember this was published in Section 28 Era so explicitly gay magazines were not common) or is he trendy enough to read Sky? (film and tv magazine). But wait- what's this? Two new style magazines with a whiff of Cadi-ffan about them? The author explains that yes, the unimaginable has happened. The forces of the free market and competition have reached the world of gay publishing.

Now a gay youth has the choice of glossy reading material, full of articles and advertisements especially for him and his sexuality. Hooray! That can't be a bad thing. Or can it? Writes the author. The article is very witty and I recommend a read (find a pdf copy here). But the usage of Cadi-ffan here is very much in a reclaimed sense. Though it must be noted that the story is told through a stereotypical cis gay lens.

Conclusions:

As I said at the start of this post, you are free to claim or not claim Cadi as you wish. However, as awareness of Welsh LGBTQIA+ terminology increases, I wanted to raise important questions and start a conversation about the words we have, what we want them to be and how they have been used against us. I hope in any case that this post has been interesting to you. If it has, please reblog this or add any comments/thoughts in the notes, tags or in my asks.

Beth yw eich barn chi? I'd love to hear other's thoughts on this and start a conversation about it! Diolch am ddarllen

[parasupport]

Para / 🥄 Support Resources (and intro)

emoji code used: here I am always looking for more resources, please send them in, especially if they're non-🗺️ resources

Generally Applicable:

⤸ Find a helpline ⤸ Your closest help centre ⤸ Find therapy ⤸ 🥄Carrd ⤸ 🥄Disorders

🗺️

⤸ Therapy tips for 🗺️s and here (applies to other paras too)

⤸ Other 🗺️-focused organisations, websites, and services: B4U-Act, Path2Prevention, StopItNow, ASAP International, VirPed, Global Prevention Project ⤸ B4U-Act also has a forum: bB4um ⤸ 🗺️Support Club - Prostasia Foundation

⤸ A 🗺️'s Journey (podcast) and 🗺️Accuracy (blog) specialised episodes: (1) benefits and challenges of therapy, (2) age dysphoria, (3) female 🗺️s, (4) transgender 🗺️s, (5) recovery after offending, (6) recognising and stopping grooming, (7) parenthood as a 🗺️, (8) working with children as a 🗺️, (9) supporting minor 🗺️s

⤸ 🗺️resources.info (support groups, guides, research, volunteering, etc. Also has help for🗺️CSA survivors, minor 🗺️s, P-OCD, and more) ⤸ further resources ⤸ and more resources ⤸ 🗺️Misconceptions

Personal Intro

Hello, you can call me Wraith (no pronouns or he/him if you must)

I'm a psychology and counselling graduate, panpara / omniphile, and non-contact 🗺️tivist and para activist. I have experience volunteering for 🗺️ organisations like the ones I've listed and providing peer support for fellow -philes, which I'd love to do here if Tumblr so allows it

I also have experience with receiving therapy as a minor and young adult for a para disorder. I've since gotten a lot better and no longer meet the critera for said disorder, but still receive therapy because it's tough being in this situation when society sees you as a danger

I use transids and identify as transeverything myself - currently looking into dissomei identities but not sure about switching yet I have schizoaffective disorder and experience delusions

Tags do not necessarily reflect my identity, I'd just rather this post access the people it needs to

[ltwilliammowett]

Howdy! I think I asked this a long time ago, so I'm sorry if you already answered and I missed it, but I was wondering what cookware/utensils/dining and drinking equipment would've been like aboard ships during the golden age of piracy, and how it would've advanced as ships did throughout the years? Things like use, storage, maintenance of avoiding rust etc.

(Also is the whole thing about wide bottomed bottles existing so as not to tip over aboard a ship true?)

Hi, maybe there was a question, but I don't know exactly what it is. I will answer either way :)

Depending on the type of ship, it was sometimes a stone oven with a kind of wok on top or a small iron stove where pots were used. The cookware is the same as on land, you used pans or pots but please always remember it was also a matter of how far and long the ship was travelling.

Depending on how far and long the ship was travelling, there were also provisions on board that were stored in barrels, sacks or boxes. The cost of the respective items was also important here. Sacks were reluctant to be used as they would absorb moisture and cause the food to spoil. it was rather barrels and crates that were used.

Food was eaten from wooden dishes or from pewter dishes, depending on what was on board or what was found on board the captured ship. Sometimes you could also find porcelain or glass. Incidentally, the bottles were usually more bulbous at the bottom and the decanters could be quite wide at the bottom so that they stood up better, and this also applied to the glasses.

I hope it helps you so far and enjoy reading.

[take-taker-taken]

Hi! I hope you're having a lovely day/night wherever you are in the world. I'm new here and saw you take requests. Please bare with me, I've never done this before lol. I was wondering if I could have a ministry Taker x fem gothic plus size reader fic? As for smut or fluff I'll honestly let you decide, I'm good with either. I just love ministry taker so much. He has me in a chokehold!

Hello, lovely Anon! I do hope you’re still around and didn’t give up hope of me ever answering you! Here is your beloved Ministry!Taker fic… (link to Part Two is at the end).

Untitled

You carefully apply liner to your eyes, the finishing touch to the smoky look. You know that he’s watching you intently - he always does, to the point where you wonder if he enjoys the ritual of make up as much as you do. You stain your lips a deep, dark red and then sit back and admire the finished product in the mirror.

“You’re beautiful.” The simple statement rumbles from him and you turn to look at where he sits on one of his thrones. This one is slightly smaller than the grand one in the great hall but it’s no less majestic for that. He smiles - an intriguing combination of pleasure, danger and barely-disguised lust - and strokes finger and thumb thoughtfully over his goatee beard. “Come here and sit with me.”

You stand up and turn with a swirl of your black velvet skirt as you smooth down your top, which is cleverly fashioned after his cloak with a deep hood that would hide your face if you used it. The sleeves flare out at the ends, adding to the flowing, floaty quality of the outfit. You slowly walk over to him with a confidence that a few months ago didn’t exist - he used to terrify you and when he plucked you from obscurity to be by his side, you’d barely been able to mutter two words to him. He had chosen, though, and you were to be his. He had seen something in you and so had persevered, not allowing you to be away from him for too long at a time, determined that you would not only grow accustomed to him but that you would learn to find pleasure in his company.

He extends a hand to you as you approach and unafraid, you reach out and take it as you step up on to the platform that the throne sits upon. You know that when he bids you to ‘come and sit with’ him then he wants you close and sure enough, he pulls you in and you hop up on to his lap. As huge as he is, you had been so self conscious the first few times; worried that you were not a waif-like figure. Such things are no longer a concern and you smile and lean against him as one powerful arm encircles you, his fingers stroking up and down your waist.

Your head tucks neatly under his chin if you press yourself fully to him, but you find that you’re feeling playful tonight. His immediate attention has been taken by the book that rests on the arm of the throne and so you slowly slide your hand up the centre of his back. He doesn’t react until you reach his neck, your fingers seeking the bare skin that hides beneath his mane of dark hair. You scratch the nape gently and he rolls his shoulders with a low, rumbling sigh of satisfaction. Encouraged, you turn your face up and deliver a row of small kisses to his jawline before reaching up to give a soft tug on his beard. He turns at that and you look up into stormy green eyes before giving a cheeky giggle, but your hand doesn’t relinquish its grip on the facial hair.

“Something ails you, my princess?” His voice is never particularly animated but you don’t find that scary anymore.

“You called me all the way over here, but seems you’re only interested in that book.”

His arm tightens around your ample waist while his other hand reaches up and covers over the one of yours that holds his beard. “Wanting some attention are you, little one?”

You nod as you give him a playful pout and a mildly pleading look. He guides your hand from his chin and then raises it to his lips, kissing it softly as you look on. He lets go of your hand and then nudges your chin up with one long finger. He kisses along your jaw just as you did to him and you close your eyes, enjoying the feel of the bristly hair against your skin.

“Such a stunning gothic beauty,” He murmurs into your ear, the timbre making you shiver pleasantly. “I knew from the moment I saw you that there was fire inside you.” He caresses the back of your neck with the tips of his fingers while his other hand seeks out the hem of your top so that he can touch bare skin. “It just needed someone to nurture that glow…” As his fingers stroke across your stomach you think back to the beginning of your time with him, when you used to try and move away from touches like this, fearing that there was ‘too much’ flesh there. Now you have no such worries and wriggle around, turning yourself in his lap as his kiss returns, to your mouth this time.

He teases your lips apart and you gladly open your mouth to allow his long tongue entry and place your hand on the side of his face. There’s still a part of you that can’t quite believe that you’re allowed to touch him, to kiss him and to lay with him. He chose you to be at his side; he chose to love you. You open your eyes and whimper slightly with disappointment as he draws back from the kiss and there’s amusement in his gaze.

“You’re wanting more, princess?”

“Always,” you reply, your thumb stroking his cheek.

“I rather fear that I shouldn’t.” He says teasingly. “You only just finished your make up and if I take you to bed then it’ll surely be ruined.”

You smile up at him and tug gently on his beard again. “I don’t mind.”

He growls at your latest assault on his facial hair and snaps his teeth playfully at your hand before standing up with you in his arms. You giggle delightedly as you know that nobody else sees this side to him.

“Very well, girl - you leave me no choice but to teach you some consequences for your teasing.” He dips his head and kisses you again before drawing back to nip at your lips with his teeth. You reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck and let your head fall against his chest as he carries you from the room while muttering dark, lustful promises.

TTT

Next

[mittch22]

An insidious leak: the analysis of seemingly shady uncloakings

My brain is rolling and spinning yet again at one thousand miles per hour and Leland Turbo is right at the centre of it. Certain writing persuits have triggered a pattern of thought surrounding the circumstances of his discovery by the lemons, and I have a few things Id like to further examine.

"This is Agent Leland Turbo. I have a flash transmission for Agent Finn McMissile. Finn, my cover's been compromised. Everything's gone pear-shaped."

He doesn't elaborate any further than this for potential reasons I shall delve into a little bit later in this post. So the question I have is this:

Why? Why did it all go to hell in the first instance? How was he compromised?

Leland is very much on par with Finn in the sense of experience. They spent both of their entire adult lives together in training at the CHROME academy and have carried out countless missions both seperately and with each other. He is more than competent with, what I estimate would be, around forty years of field experience. And considering he would have known that complacency would always get him killed, he would never have allowed himself to become complacent enough to permit his facade to come into the light. And to be permitted to perform any type of mission on his own, then his ability is extensively trusted indeed. Mistakes happen, sure. But I sincerely doubt Leland would have made one that held this type of consequence.

My current aswer to this question?

CHROME had a mole.

Upon beginning this post, I came to the realisation that there is a second segment that didn't initially cross my mind that adds evidence to this particular ideology:

"Finn, I need backup. But don't call the cavalry, it could blow the operation."

Leland knew about the mole. Or at least he had his suspicions.

Initially I simply put this statement down to 'too many cooks spoil the broth', or in this case, 'too many agents will screw up the mission.' However, I'm no longer so sure that this is the case.

Visually speaking, his face says a million words. He is terrified. Evidently, if he's caught, he knows he is in for a whole universe of hurt. And death is very much on the horizon. But the fear makes a drastic appearance when he specifies not calling the "cavalry". This makes perfect sense to me if he thinks that the lemons were tipped off about his presence. And if there was someone within CHROME who could not be trusted, then the only vehicle he was be able to notify was Finn.

He knows him better than any other vehicle in the world and trusts him with his life. He's also aware that, if the flash transmission were to be seen by any other CHROME agent by accident, and he had of mentioned anything about a potential leak, it could have put Finn in a gargantuan amount of peril. So he kept quiet about the idea, simply telling him to not get the agency as a whole involved.

Now, I can't bring up Leland in this circumstance without also talking about Rod Redline. The second agent in the equation who also lost their life because he was compromised. And the same question applies since we don't really know how it happened to him either.

Rod was also a highly skilled and competent individual, hence the statement: 'Rod "Torque" Redline is considered by many as the greatest American spy in the world.' So all, if not most, of the criteria that applies to Leland applies to Agent Redline as well. And yet, he was also caught.

His shock when Grem and Acer followed him into the bathroom at the Towkyo party is quite telling. Its indicitive that he didn't know he had been caught until that exact moment. And the lack of any other emotion but deep seated anger on the faces of Grem and Acer could potentially indicate that they knew exactly who they were looking for.

If he was discovered due to a mole, since inter-agency cooperation isn't uncommon when working on the same mission, then it may just have been the same mole that told the lemons about Leland Turbo.

And of course there's the question of how Grem, Acer and the professor knew about the agents in the first place. Zundapp even mentions them both by name.

"Hey, Professor Z! This is one of those British spies we told you about." Yeah. Most likely a mole.

So what was the mole's driving force? Money? Blackmail? Sadism? A crippling hatred for the agencies or individuals? Who knows.

Of course we might never know for sure the exact reasoning for why they were both compromised. But it's always interesting to speculate.

Chrysler help the vehicles who caused Leland's death when Finn gets hold of them. Particularly if they are someone that he once trusted.

[stubz]

>Hello this is Max speaking from the youngling centre

<Ah yes, I'd like to enroll my child for this upcoming year

>Alright how old is your child?

<They just turned 3. Her name is Cyllia

>And how many days a week will she-Amea do not claw Xw, I told you they have 2 more minutes! Sorry, how many days will she we be attending and how long?

<Oh uh no worries, we're thinking 3 days a week for the mornings until the afternoon

>do you know yet what days that will be?

<No not yet.

>Alright no worries, now we'll need her medical information if she has any allergies or conditions. You can send that over with the payment-Amea! What did I say? ...that's right, and if I catch you doing that again I'm moving you. Kim can you...thanks!

<Ha...busy day?

>You have no idea...now the average payment is about $4000 for the year. We accept written statements and electronic transfers. Both would be made out to Youngling Centre

<Okay, I have a few questions about your centre

>Of course, ask away

<So do I need to pack a lunch for her?

>We provide lunch every Wednesday and Friday, all other days you need to give her lunch. And we make sure to keep all meals safe for all species

>Great! My next question is-

<Amea! Kim are you okay?! ...Amea we do not claw the teachers! Now apologize and come sit over here....now Amea...good. Sorry about that

>...yeah yeah no worries. I'll uh actually just email my questions to you later, is that better?

<Yes actually thank you so much-*hiss*-do not hiss at me young lady...oh really? *hiss!* ...yeah, not so fun is it?

>...Amea?

<Yeah...she's a handful...

>...and she's...?

<Human.

>...I'm sorry?

<She's human...just turned 4...I'm also human by the way...oh shoot we're not supposed to hiss back at human children...right that's with other kids...

>She's the one who's been hissing and clawing??

<Very much so...is that all?

>...uh yes...have a...nice day *click*

"...I don't think they're coming to the centre." he mutters looking at the phone

"I told you to take the call outside, the weird human shenanigans spook potential money away!" calls Kim applying a band-aid to herself and Xw. Both having been clawed by Amea who sits grumpily on the stool next to Max.