#like 'hoisted by your own petard' no one knows what it means anymore

[daylander1000]

Will rhaena ever confront corlys for his treatment of laena's children in your fic? That guy needs to get someone to yell at him about how he treats his family.

Even vaemond in the show, the guy was his bro who helped him in his travels and fought beside him and all he does is complain that he deserved it for being too greedy, when he was just trying to save his home? How can that be greedy? I think vaemond grew up there too right?)

I also don't understand how laenor was ok with his (elder) sisters kids being usurped by non-velaryons. I thought he loved laena. That guy confused me a lot, i don't even think he loved the strong kids that much to give up driftmark for them if he wanted to escape with his boyfriend the first chance he gets.

Love your fic so much by the way ❤️

Thanks for the love. Back at ya. 💕

I think the problem with Corlys and Laenor and the Velaryons in general is that they're not really meant to be characters, just background plot devices no one thinks about for more than 0.2 seconds. If you look at them for 0.3 seconds, they fall apart.

I can't go too much into plans for swhhw without getting into fic-spoilers, but this is a justice fix-it fic, so trust that there'll be some by-his-own-petard-hoisting for Corlys at some point. Justice for Laena, Rhaena, Baela, Rhea, Vaemond... I don't know if I'm doing a confrontation scene tho because it's like Rhaena hardly knows him? He's not been visiting her in Pentos or Dragonstone. I kinda want her to treat him with the same disregard he shows her.

In the show, Laena was sort of a hostage on Pentos. Laenor's sort of a hostage in KL. Rhaena's sort of a hostage on Dragonstone and Rhaenys has Baela on Driftmark. No one ever really takes any action to protect them, help them, love them, look out for their best interests, etc. They're not allowed to look out for themselves or each other either. Hell, they're not even allowed to see and speak to each other. Each of the Targs just get to have one. Like house pets. Or worse house plants.

Or house cacti rather that no one ever waters. That's the level of development hotd gave them imo. They're really loyal house cacti.

Daemon's like "Mine died. It was kinda annoying."

Rhaenyra's like, "I know, right? Help me get rid of mine, I don't want it anymore."

He's like, "Fire works. Excellent Velaryon remover. But I have two more..."

She's like, "Well, Jace and Luke can have them. Velaryons are very loyal and can be handy to have around. Very useful. If it can bear a cup, it can bear a child."

And Rhaenys is just like, "Well, mine is actually a borrow from you, remember? Wasn't using it anyway, so sure, take it back if you need it."

So I'm Team Vaemond 4eva😅. Fluent in Valyrian, but unc chose to speak High Facts.

He lost the argument to Team Alternative Facts, but at least he said something.

Laenor... I can rationalize him by thinking that everything he's done since Joffrey's murder has been under duress. That's how he makes sense to me.

I mean, I doubt it was his idea for an immediate wedding while his boyfriend's blood was still being mopped up. He's sort of in the Criston situation imo. Yes, he's a man, with a much higher social position than Criston and a dragon... but can he truly say no to his father, Viserys or Rhaenyra?

I mean, what happens to him the minute he decides to say out loud that those children aren't his and that he dgaf? In the one episode we saw of their adult relationship, he's just being gaslit and taking jabs with no fighting back. We saw Rhaenyra pull rank on him when he just wanted to take a break from the shitshow and constant negging. What happens if he tells Daemyra he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life in exile? Is he afraid of the Divorce Rock™ being re-activated? 🤔

Corlys is in a vastly different situation and is just a horrible brother, father and grandfather. Like, I have him even below Otto and Viserys.

Viserys is a horrible idiot, but he still believes he's protecting at least 1 child and that the rest might be more or less fine in his batshit Legoland version of reality.

Otto clearly underestimated how shit Viserys was going to be. Probably thought, "Dude still plays with Legos. Not a drunkard, murderer or wife-beater. Relatively decent compared to most Targs and Westerosi lords in general. Kinda sickly, might die soon. Perfectly harmless and controllable."

In normal Westerosi circumstances when you have no inheritance of your own, getting your daughter married off to a supposedly kindly/soft/spineless king can be considered a good move for her security. I mean, how was he supposed to know that Viserys was going to descend into overt tyranny and become the "I'll have your tongue cut out" guy? Probably didn't expect Rhaenyra to take up Daemon's Heir for a Day energy either. Probably didn't expect her to become an "I want this ten year old who just lost an eye tortured" type person.

He's not Tywin. He can't do a Castamere on House Targ. So yeah, he put his daughter in a bad situation but he's right there with her in it at least, kinda, trying as best as he can to get her out alive, risking his own neck too. I feel like he'd be the only one of all the old fathers to confess that mistakes were definitely made and he definitely saw it going differently in his head. He has no dragons, no banners, no power other than his Hand job which can be easily taken away the moment he gets out of line as Viserys demonstrated. Like, Aegon is his best option and only hope. If your life depends on Aegon stepping up, you are not in a good place and I know you are crying in the shower.

But Corlys has a navy, a dragon through Rhaenys, is lord of the richest house, and seems to be actively trying to throw all his children and grandchildren onto a Targaryen pyre for no clear reason other than a desire to serve them up as tribute.

Even Rhaenys, the actual Targ, is like, "Maybe we should stop sacrificing children and give Driftmark to Baela so she has a home?" And he's just like "Naw... Fuck them non-Luke, non-Jace kids."

He's just the worst to me. If you take people's motivations and beliefs into consideration, their options, what they're working with, their goals, he's just indefensible. I cannot think of a single possible defense for Corlys. Not one.

Dude woke up from a coma, heard his brother had been murdered and thought "Vaemond had it coming. Lemme go bend the knee real quick anyway."

This is the character the showrunners used to pat themselves on the back for their diverse casting.

So I really really really hate Corlys. Like in a meta way. Cannot put into words how much of a disappointment watching him was.

Definitely getting his just rewards in swhhw.

Now that I've written this out, I actually want to kill him off.😅 You make a good point. If Vaemond deserved to be beheaded for his greed then surely Mr "I will sacrifice my children for likes" deserves worse.

[ronance4everbrainrot]

Stranger things incorrect quote generator (feat. Dustin and his Dads, the Sapphic Senate and The Party)

Pt 9

Dustin and his Dads

Dustin: But what about Steve?

Eddie: Don't worry about them.

Eddie: I once watched them fall down 5 flights of stairs, stand up, and keep eating their hotdog like nothing happened.

(He doesn't feel pain anymore)

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Steve: Eddie just said "I have an appetite for destruction" and then they reached down and untied my shoe.

(I feel like Eddie would say that)

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Eddie: Hey, Dustin. Why did the chicken cross the road?

Dustin: To get to the other side?

Eddie: You were supposed to say “I dunno, why?“

Dustin: Uh... fine. I don’t know. Why did it cross the road?

Eddie: To get to the idiot’s house.

Dustin: ...Ok?

Steve: Hey, Dustin. Knock knock.

Dustin: No.

Steve: You were supposed to say “who’s there?”

Dustin: Fine... let’s get this over with. Who’s there?

Steve: The chicken.

Dustin:

Steve:

Eddie:

Dustin: Listen here you little shits-

(he's so done with them)

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Eddie: I am a responsible adult!

Dustin: *raises brow*

Eddie: I am an adult.

(you'll get there one day, Eddie)

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Eddie: I lost Dustin.

Steve: How did you LOSE Dustin?!

Eddie: To be fair, they are very small.

(I mean you are giants, so I'm not surprised)

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Steve: Someone take me to art museums and make out with me.

Eddie: But they said not to touch the masterpieces.

Steve: Well somebody's got to pin the artwork to the wall.

Dustin, on a walkie talkie: This is Dustin, those idiots are fucking around in the East wing again.

(He is double done with them, him and Max complain about these things to each other)

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Steve: Two brooooos!

Eddie: Chillin' in a hot tub!

Steve: Five feet apart 'cause we're not gay!

Eddie:

Steve:

Eddie: *tearing up*

Steve: Babe, c'mon...

Eddie: AND HERE YOU REALLY HAD ME THINKING WE HAD SOMETHING.

Steve: Babe...

(How could you, Steve 😭)

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Steve: Do you ever feel bugs on you when really there’s nothing there?

Eddie: Those are the ghosts of the bugs you killed before.

Steve:

Steve: *sobs*

Dustin: You fucking scared them, you idiot.

(nah, cause why the fuck does it feel like that 😪)

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Steve: *double checking supplies in the boat* Compass. CB radio. Sunscreen.

Dustin: Hot dog costumes!

Steve: I’m sorry, what?

Dustin: You know, in case we get lost at sea, and one of us, probably Eddie, goes mad with hunger, we’ll put these on. Eddie hates hot dogs, so they probably won’t eat us.

Steve: Are you saying that Eddie would rather eat us than hot dogs?

Eddie: I do hate hot dogs.

(He definitely said Steve looked delicious, at one point in his life)

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Eddie: I wish I had more enemies.

Steve: I’m sure you will someday, honey.

(S4 who?)

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Dustin: So what’s the plan?

Steve: I don’t know. You’re smart, *points at Eddie* they’re mean, come up with something.

(Why does Dustin even try)

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Dustin: I’m telling you, my team is competent.

Eddie, rushing in: Dustin! Steve tried to make pasta in the coffee pot and now it's broken!

(not the coffee pot ☹️😔)

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Steve: This is horrible! This is the most humiliating thing to ever happen to me!

Eddie: Oh-? Even more humiliating than-

Steve: We are not doing this!

(That's probably why he called Eddie mean)

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Dustin: Go ahead, Steve. Let it out, cry. If you don't, your tear ducts will get blocked up, and then when you get old, you won't be able to cry.

Eddie: Just when we thought it was safe to let you back into the conversation.

(probably while Steve was having a 'realizing he's bi' crisis)

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Eddie: I have locked Steve in a cage designed by their own art. Oh, they have been well and truly hoist by their own petard.

Dustin: Could you put it another way? I didn’t understand a word of that.

Eddie: I’m blackmailing them.

Dustin: Oh, happy days.

(🎶oh happy day🎶)

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Eddie: The first time I ever got upset in front of Steve, they put their arms around me and it was so awkward that I had to ask them if they were hugging me or reaching for something on the shelf behind me.

Steve: I was doing both, for your information.

Dustin: The first time Steve hugged me, it was such a disaster we didn’t make eye contact for, like, a week after.

(Canon? yes?.. Yes)

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*Dustin recording whilst Eddie and Steve are arguing*

Eddie: HOLD UP, HOLD UP, HOLD UP, HOLD UP!! HER SISTER WAS A WITCH, RIGHT? AND WHAT WAS HER SISTER? A PRINCESS! THE WICKED WITCH OF THE EAST, BRO!

Dustin: *wheezes like a tea kettle*

Steve, pulling out a knife: I'm gonna stab them.

Eddie: YOU'RE GONNA LOOK AT ME AND YOU'RE GONNA TELL ME THAT I'M WRONG? AM I WRONG?

Steve: It's my favorite movi-

Eddie: SHE WORE A CROWN AND SHE CAME DOWN IN A BUBBLE, STEVE!

Steve: I'm not fighting with you, I'm not fighting with y-

Eddie: GROW UP, BRO. GROW UP!

(I don't think this it that fitting, but love it, I feel like Argyle would fit better)

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*Steve is telling a story*

Eddie: Wow, Steve, this story has everything! Action! Adventure! Romance!

Dustin: Romance?

Eddie: I have a crush on them.

(This quote never gets old)

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[Sapphic Senate]

Robin: What is love?

Vickie: An emotional minefield.

Nancy: A neurochemical reaction.

Chrissy: Baby don't hurt me.

(don't hurt me, no more 😔🎶)

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*Comments under an image of a really hot knife cutting bread*

Chrissy: Imagine stabbing someone with this knife.

Vickie: It would instantly cauterize the wound, so the person wouldn't bleed, so it's not very useful.

Nancy: if you want information it is

Robin: why would you STAB a person when you can have TOAST?

(Robin is so right)

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Nancy, texting in the group chat: I wonder what Apple shots would look like?

Vickie: *Sends a picture of of a syringe with an apple slice shoddily edited inside*

Robin: *Sends a picture of a shot glass with an Apple poorly drawn inside*

Chrissy: *Sends picture of person dunking a Basketball into the hoop but replaced the basketball with a poorly resized apple*

Nancy: I hate all of you.

(what did Nancy expect)

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*Everyone is playing a board game together*

Robin: I will put 'A' down to make 'A'.

Chrissy: I will add onto your 'A' to make 'AT'.

Vickie: I will add onto your 'AT' to make 'RAT'.

Nancy: I will add onto your 'RAT' to make 'BIOSTRATAGRAPHIC'.

Vickie: *flips the board*

(I feel like I already had this one)

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Nancy: You have friends and I envy that.

Robin: You're welcome to share my friends.

Nancy: *looks at Vickie and Chrissy*

Nancy: I don't want those.

(well you're out of luck Nance)

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Chrissy: Words ending in 'ie' just sound so adorable. Like cutie, sweetie, cookie-

Vickie: Eyy, homie!

Robin: But then there's cootie...

Nancy: Die.

(at first I thought the last person said die to the person before)

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Nancy , at Robin's funeral: I need a moment with them.

Everyone: Of course. *They leave*

Nancy , leaning over Robin′s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead.

Robin: Yeah, no shit.

(well I wanna know what happened that it led to this situation)

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Vickie: I can't believe you've done this.....

Robin: I'm sorry I didn't know-!

Vickie, on the verge of tears: YOU CAN'T JUST BUY ME A GIFT OUT OF NOWHERE NOW I FEEL LIKE A HUGE ASSHOLE!

(First time Vickie is drunk?)

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Robin: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

(Eddie and her bonding over that)

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Robin, trying their first ever cup of coffee: I am ENERGY!

Vickie, an avid coffee drinker, on their twelfth cup of the day: Someone slap me awake or I am literally going to fall into a coma in ten seconds.

(Nancy be like "oh God...WHO GAVE ROBIN COFFEE?!")

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Vickie: Are you drinking enough water?

Nancy : Sometimes my tears get in my mouth.

(*continue* but I don't like crying so I don't cry often)

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Vickie: Isn’t it a bit dangerous?

Nancy : Vickie, please. We’ve in a lot of unexpected predicaments before and we always escape unhurt.

Vickie: ...

Nancy : Okay, we sometimes escape unhurt.

Vickie: ...

Nancy : Alright, we escaped unhurt once... Then we hurt ourselves in the way home.

(Nancy telling Vickie about the upside down)

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Robin: So, are they your friend or...

Chrissy: They’re like Vickie, but if Vickie was ordered to be around you.

Robin: Oh, so Nancy.

Chrissy: Precisely!

(idk what to say)

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*At a speed dating event*

Chrissy: Oh wow, people are really shallow.

Nancy : Consider it a background check. For example: Do you have a death certificate?

Chrissy: *Checks their pulse* Sorry, not yet.

Nancy : Good, I'm not fucking a ghost again.

(ROBIN DIED?! 😧..also the "sorry, not yet" 😂)

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Robin, texting Nancy : *sends a voice message*

Nancy , texting back: I’m a little busy, is it urgent?

Robin: No, don’t worry, just listen later.

*later*

Nancy : *presses play*

Robin's voice message: THERE’S A FIRE-

(ah...So that's how she died... Wait 🤔 is that what happened before the funeral...anyway)

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Vickie: Do you know that we are made out of atoms?

Vickie: And atoms never touch each other.

Vickie: So in my defense, officer. I did not punch this kid.

(🤯🤯🤯mind blowing)

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Robin: I mean, sure, I have my bad days, but then I remember what a cute smile I have.

(and also the power she holds over the girls)

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Vickie: What’s it like being tall?

Nancy: Is it nice?

Chrissy: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Robin: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

(But that's the fun part. No risk no fun)

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Chrissy: I truly believe that water can solve all your problems.

Robin: Weight loss? Drink water.

Vickie: Clear skin? Drink water.

Nancy: Want to get rid of someone? Drown them.

(Well Hydrate or Die-drate as you once said Chrissy)

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Nancy, watching Vickie and Chrissy fight: Are you sure they should be fighting? What if they get hurt?

Robin, not bothered by the chaos: It’s fine. They’re too evenly matched to hurt each other.

Nancy: Then... who’s the strongest out of you three?

Vickie: Robin.

Chrissy: Robin.

Robin: Me.

(Buff Robin)

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Vickie: You know you can die from that, right?

Chrissy: *smoking a cigarette* That’s the point.

Nancy: *drinking alcohol* We’re trying to speed this up.

Robin: *Eating raw cookie dough and nodding*

(Vickie being the most mentally stable)

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Chrissy: You guys worried about Vickie?

Nancy: Totally!

Robin: Yeah, they called me in the middle of the night and just yelled, "what do I do, what do I do, what do I do, what do I do?"

Chrissy: And what'd you say?

Robin: "I dunno, I dunno, I dunno, I dunno."

Nancy:

Chrissy: They're lucky to have you as a friend.

(I couldn't have given an better answer)

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Nancy: I love you.

Robin: I love you too. I've waited so long to hear you say that.

*Nancy and Robin kiss passionately*

Chrissy, to Vickie: You owe me 20 dollars.

(well it's your fault for betting against.. Idk.. What did they bet on?)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Chrissy: ARE YOU-

Vickie: Fucking.

Chrissy: KIDDING ME?! YOU-

Vickie: Fucking.

Chrissy: IDIOT!

Robin: …What was that?

Vickie: Nancy banned Chrissy from swearing, so I’m helping them out.

(I want Chrissy to be a Gamer and she swears a lot while playing)

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Chrissy: I am darkness. I am an power. I am your worst nightmare. I could kill a man in more ways than you can imagine. I am the night. I am fury, I am a weapon, I am-

Robin: A doll.

Nancy: A cinnamon roll.

Vickie: A sweetheart.

Chrissy:

Chrissy: ...stop it.

(looks like a cinnamon, could kill you)

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Nancy: I have the sharpest memory here - name one time I forgot something!

Vickie: You left me, Robin, and Chrissy in a Walmart parking lot at 2am a day ago.

Nancy: I did that on purpose, try again.

(I wonder what they did, she would never let Robin alone with those two together)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nancy: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them. Any suggestions?

Vickie: Put spaghetti in it.

Nancy: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you.

Chrissy: Put spaghetti in it.

Nancy: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you two.

Robin: Put spaghetti in it.

Nancy: I am no longer taking suggestions.

(👁️spaghetti👁️)

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Vickie: What’s wrong? You look 10 seconds away from ripping someone’s throat out.

Nancy: Fucking Chrissy and Robin were trying to invoke one of the minor gods again last night. I didn't get an ounce of sleep, thanks to their bloody chanting.

(I feel sorry to the person who Nancy will attack)

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[The Party]

Lucas: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life.

El: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back...

Mike: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this.

Max: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years.

Dustin: I knew I lost that potential somewhere.

Will: Mental stability, my old friend!

Lucas: Jesus, could you guys lighten up a little?

(Good start, right?)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Lucas: If you put 'violently' in front of anything to describe your action, it becomes funnier.

Lucas: Violently practices.

El: Violently studies.

Mike: Violently sleeps.

Dustin: Violently shoots pictures.

Max: Violently boxes.

Will: Violently murders people.

Mike: Violently worries about the previous statement.

(Will is so adorable 🥺)

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Max: *dies*

Will: Timer starts now! When are they coming back? I say two months!

Mike: Bullshit. One month.

El and Lucas sobbing: WHAT ARE YOU DOING? MAX JUST DIED!

Dustin, scratching chin in thought: One week.

(I do wanna know when she wakes up again 👀 I don't think Dustin will win)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Computer: Please enter a password.

Max: *types in El*

Computer: Your password is too weak.

Max: How fucking DARE YOU-

(don't call El weak 🤨)

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Dustin: Why shouldn't you put a toaster in a bathtub full of water?

El: Because your toast would get soggy!

(Good enough, El)

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Squad reactions to being called straight:

Mike: The fuck, no I'm not.

Lucas: Excuse the hell out of you?

Dustin: Ding dong, you are wrong!

El: Who told you that? And why did they lie?

Will: Rude.

Max: *punches the person*

(El: friends don't lie)

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Max: Are we fighting or flirting?

El: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck-

Max: Your point?

(Max no, she needs to stay innocent)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Mike: Croissants: dropped

Will: Road: works ahead

Dustin: BBQ sauce: on my titties

Max: Shavacado: fre

Lucas: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead

El:

El: ...I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

(5 feet apart: not gay)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

El, at Max: You're my significant other.

Max: Yeah I am!

El, at Dustin: You're my child.

Dustin: Yes boss.

El, at Lucas: You're my bitch.

Lucas: Yeah I am- wait, what?

El, at Will: My bestie.

Will: Naturally.

El, Mike: HA, GAY!

Mike: Fuck you.

(Max taught her that)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

So I forgot to write the ending (or well it didn't really save)

Also there isn't much Form the party, some i think got lost because it didn't save, I also didn't find a lot fitting quotes for them.

Anyway, so next part is gonna be 10 and that's one's gonna be all the ST characters I can think of and it's just gonne be random.

lots of love ✨😌♥️✨

[wistfulcynic]

3, 12, and 23?

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

favourite line, from On the Side of the World:

Crowley turned to the Metatron with a smirk so smug that if you murdered him for it no court in Creation would convict you. Aziraphale had never loved him more. “I believe the human expression for that is ‘hoist with one’s own petard',” he observed.  “Crowley,” said God, in a voice that was at once a pat on the back and a knife in it, “you always were too clever for your own damned good.”

favourite scene, from taking it slow:

Maybe he just doesn’t want me.  It’s an absolutely ridiculous notion given Stede’s very obvious suffering but Ed’s sexually frustrated too and it’s seriously messing with his capacity for rational thought. He’s been throwing himself at Stede for days now and Stede’s done absolutely fuck all about it and the only explanation Ed can come up with anymore is that Stede just doesn’t want to.  So much for I didn’t know it could be like that, he fumes, as he hammers nails into the roof with more force than is advisable, given the rickety state of said roof. So much for Oh, Ed you feel perfect. So much for the greatest sexual experience of Ed’s life, apparently it meant nothing at all to Stede. Apparently fucking Ed was so awful that Stede will go to just about any lengths to avoid doing it again.  He works himself up into such a lather with these thoughts that when he’s done on the roof and goes back inside, the sight of Stede’s welcoming smile tips him right over the edge.  “Oh there you are, Ed,” he says, “good. I wanted to ask you—”  “Mate, what the fuck?” Ed yells.  Stede’s brow knits in confusion. “What?” he says. “You know what,” Ed snaps back. Stede’s wearing a well-worn white shirt today, so thin and open at the collar he may as well be wearing nothing. Ed wants to lick him. Just lick up that little pool of sweat that gathers at the base of his throat. Lick his pecs, bite his nipples, suck his dick—fuck.  “I can’t do this anymore,” he growls. “I fucking won’t.”  “Do what?” Stede looks truly baffled. “Ed, what’s wrong?”  “What’s wrong?” Ed throws his hands in the air. “You’re asking me what’s wrong?”  “Yes, I am.” Stede stands and cautiously approaches. “Is there anything I can do?”  “Anything you can do?” Ed starts to laugh. “Is there anything you can do? Yes, Stede, there fucking is something you can do. You can fucking mean it when you say you love me.”  “I—”  “You can be honest,” Ed barrels on, ignoring his attempts to speak, “and tell me that I’m not enough for you and you hated having sex with me and you never want to fucking touch me again.”  “Ed—”  “And you can stop,” Ed continues, voice rising, “wearing those fucking shirts that leave your chest bare and smelling like clean sweat and the sea and hibiscus, some-fuckin’-how, and you can stop looking at me like you think I’m the greatest thing ever when you won’t fuckin’ just fuck m—”  He’s cut off by Stede’s lips on his, hard and ravenous. Before he can fully process what’s happening, Ed finds himself slammed back against the wall with such force the whole building shakes and kissed as though both their lives depend on it. As, very possibly, they do. 

12. favorite character to write about this year

this may be cheating but it's definitely Chad from On the Side of the World. He's an OC and if i'm honest he's just Bertie Wooster in a himbo suit but i have had so much fun writing him and the response from readers has been lovely.

23. fics you wanted to write but didn’t

this was kind of a slow year for me for fic writing, i took a long break which i really needed and also deleted a wip that i liked but was not rewarding to post. So i think all told i wrote what i wanted to write. However. i do have an idea for a continuation of taking it slow which would see Ed and Stede into the innkeeper era and beyond, an OFMD season three pre-write, effectively. Which is madness to contemplate considering i'm just finishing my Good Omens season three pre-write but no one ever said fic writers had any sense of proportion. So idk, maybe it will get written in 2024. It is a banger of an idea if i say so myself but ouf, it would be at least 60-80k and take forever.

thanks for playing!!

-

SEND ME AN END-OF-YEAR FIC ASK

[ansgar-martinsson]

The Best Intentions - Part 10

“No,” Ansgar let his hands fall heavily atop his thighs. “No, no, no, no, no.” He shook his head, rolling the back of it against the sofa, his eyes closed. He opened them again, his gaze zeroing in on hers. “I assure you, Joline, that none of that will happen. If you believe anything I say, you can believe that. Besides,” he shifted beneath her, “I divorced her. I don’t love her anymore. Therefore, there is no family, no happiness, no marriage to speak of.”

“Then why…?” she indicated his hand, the ring on his finger, with a flick of her gaze.

“You know, Joline,” he grumbled, “this is the second time we’ve gone down the primrose path only to have the hedge… clipped.” He scissored his fingers together in front of her face.

“I know but you – “

He turned his hand and pressed his index finger to her mouth. “Ssssh. I’m speaking now, not you.” He brushed back and forth over her lips, her cheek, atop her forehead, and down her nose, his gentle lover-like caresses completely belying the daggers that would be his words. “Had you been any other woman,” he said, “I’d have kicked you to the fucking kerb by now. I’d have told you to bugger off back to your vibrator.” He stopped, his hand cupping the back of her neck, thumb pressed in just beneath her ear. “But you’re not just any other woman, are you? No, you’re not. You see, since Faye left me, I’ve been with a number of women….”

He felt her neck stiffen under his hand and her features hardened. Her body tensed as if to move off of him, but he tightened his grip and stilled her, his other hand firm upon her waist, fingers dug roughly into her hipbone.  

“Don’t move. Listen.” He continued. “I’m not proud of any of that, so don’t think for a second that I am,” he said, dangerously. “And I’m not bragging. It’s the truth, and there is a point to this.”

She huffed. “Which is?”

“The point is, that I may have felt tenderness toward one of them, maybe two. But none, not a single one has captivated me, consumed my thoughts, stolen my focus the way you have. The way you do.” He pushed his hand up through her damp hair and curled his fingers, clutching her gently yet possessively. “I will have you, Joline,” he growled. “No matter what, and I always get the things I… ah! Fuck!”

He had canted his head and slowly pulled her down toward him, toward his lips. When she braced her hand against the cushion, it shifted, causing, in turn, his body to shift, and, in turn again, a quick bolt of agony to shoot from his waist to his armpit. He gasped and released his breath with a small growl, clutching at his bruised side.

“Let me see it,” Joline moved off of him to kneel on the floor beside his knee. “Move your hand.”

He did as she asked. Yet he tried, unsuccessfully, to re-establish the gravity of the moment before.. “Listen to me, I will have y– I… ah! I mean it, I –”

“Ssh. Let me see.”

He felt her gentle touch over the bruise - a healing, a warm caress that sent visible, damn it, shivers through Ansgar’s entire body.

“No, it’s okay, I – “

“Did you break a rib or something?”

“Mm. Don’t think so.”

“Was this,” she lifted her eyes to his, “was this because of me?”

“No! Of course it wasn’t. Don’t be absurd,” Ansgar hissed.

She gave him a sardonic look. “Really?”

“Fine. Yes,” he wilted. “Yes, it was.”

“How did it happen?” She sat back on her haunches, and rest her hand upon his knee.

“I fought like an arsehole,” he ran his hand through his hair. “Fought like a mad, insane arsehole and got kicked to the mat - side kicked, in fact - by my instructor.” He sat forward with a bit of difficulty. “I couldn’t focus, Joline.” He touched her again, couldn’t keep his hands off of her, his fingers wanting to explore every inch of her. “I was… I was angry, I was frustrated. I was still…you know. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to stir up your life like that.”

“Don’t be. You’re… not,” he replied. He spoke slowly, as his mind had clicked, working away - calculating, evaluating, analyzing… resolving, and solving. A decision popped into his brain, fully formed, and he understood immediately what he had to do. And he’d do it of his own volition. On his own terms.  “It was a… a good thing, now that I think of it. It was actually a very good thing.”

“How was that?”

He smiled and took her hand in his, toying idly with her fingers as he spoke. “My fight instructor is one of the wisest, most astute people I know,” he said. “James knew something was off with me, knew I had something on my mind. He and I had a bit of a chat after he knocked me on my arse.”

“About.. what?”

“About you,” he clipped. He raised his left hand and showed her the ring. “About this. About Faye. About failure. About misery and neuroses and crutches and irrational fears. We talked about freedom and choice. About insisting upon doing things my way. He told me how I don’t listen to my heart or to other people, and how my mistakes have caused me pain. How, since Faye left me, I’ve managed to hoist myself on my own petard. I’ve walled myself inside my own fortress, pushed everyone away, dug deep into my armor, and built my own barriers to getting the things that I really want.”

She shook her head, blinking. “I don’t think I understood any of that.”

“You will,” he laughed. “I swear it.” And with that he stood from the sofa and crossed to his bag. He took out a clean Martinsson Construction polo shirt and shrugged carefully into it. “I think you’re right, Joline,” he said.

“Right about what?”

He gestured to the sofa. “About this, about now. The time isn’t right. The place… it isn’t right.”

She frowned. “You’re not making any sense.”

“I’m making perfect sense,” he smiled. He stepped back to her, bent and lifted her to her feet. He embraced her, pressing her close to him. “I don’t want you here, now that I think about it. I don’t want just a fuck.” He whispered, then, his lips hovering just beside her ear. “I want to take you slowly, deliberately. I want you in my bedroom, on my bed, perhaps against my wall. I want you when we’re clean and dry…,” he quirked a wicked grin, “well, not dry for long at least.”

He felt her low chuckle. He covered the sides of her head with his hands, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks, her lips. He bent and pressed a slow, warm kiss to those same lips, his tongue snaking out to taste her upon them when he pulled back. “I want you properly,” he said. “I want to be alone with you. I want…,” his eyes flashed with devilishness, the smile broadening beneath, “I want to tie you up to my headboard, perhaps, and ravish you - give you pleasure over and over and over again until you are speechless, senseless, and utterly mindless.”

“Oh, fuck,” she mouthed. She licked her lips and swallowed hard, her eyes blown wide with desire, her gaze flicking back and forth between his eyes. He felt himself go hard in that place again at the sight of her, at the sight of her flushed skin and mussed hair, at the sight of her dark eyes boring into his, at the sight of his effect on her.

“I imagine that’s something you want as well. Isn’t it, Joline?”

She nodded quickly, her breaths rapid and shaky. “Yes.”

“Good, then. It’s settled.” He took a step back from her and brought his hands together in front of his chest. He wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the ring finger of his left, and pulled, grunting with the effort as he did so.

“What are you –?”

The ring came free, and Ansgar let out a punctuated breath. He held still for a long moment, his hands hovering, trembling slightly, in the air, his vision focused upon Joline’s wide eyes. When he finally moved, it was to turn his left hand over and peer at it, to marvel at the empty stripe on his finger, before clutching it into a tight fist. His heart thumped in his chest, and he felt giddy – but he tamped it down. Shut down his fears with the knowledge of the result of his decision; the anticipation of what was to come.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I feel so naked. So… exposed.”

“You’re not exposed,” she murmured. “Not with me.”

“Here,” he said at last, holding out his right hand, the ring rest upon his open palm. “I want you to hold on to this for me.”

“What? No, I –”

“Joline, please,” he said. “I need you to do this for me. Hold it for me. Will you do that?”

“Until… until when?”

“Until tonight,” he said, “When I pick you up at eight.”  He picked up her hand, dropped the ring into her palm and closed her fingers in around it. “Hold this for me. I will tell you everything tonight.”

And with a curt nod, he broke away from her. “Now, I must get back to work, much to do… much to do.” He strode back over to the table, folded up his MacBook and shoved it in his bag. His bag, he slung over his shoulder before stepping quickly back to Joline. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her to him, and planted a firm kiss on her lips. He smiled blithely at her. “Dress for dinner. Eight o’clock. Don’t make me wait, I don’t like to wait.”

He pulled the door open, gave her a wink over her shoulder, and stepped out of her office.

“I’d still like to shake the hand of the man who knocked you on your ass,” Jo called after him determined to get the last word in.

Ansgar didn’t turn around, only flicked his hand in a two finger salute over his shoulder to acknowledge that he’d heard her.

If she had watched him just a moment longer, she would’ve seen him chuckle and shake his head. She’d missed it as she closed the door to her office once more, barricading herself inside to think. Bits of their conversation replayed in her mind to make sure she understood and truly comprehended everything that happened. She listlessly fell into her chair feeling the weight of a neglected piece of jewelry that she had clutched in her hand.

Jo put so much stock, so much meaning, so much weight in it. She dropped it on the wood surface of her desk to listen to the ping and rolling-drop flat. The man she’d been lusting after took it off his hand and gave it to her for safe keeping. As collateral that she’d show for their date? She had no idea why. He talked a lot, but it all felt a bit vague.

She’d built him up so much in her head, imaging this wife and potential family based on a single band of gold. This entire world she created in her mind that she’d be crashing like Uncle Mikey drinking himself silly at family gathering and embarrassing himself by feeling up the help. But Joline was just Joline, a woman addicted to a man’s kiss. A divorced man. A free man. The man was free of obligation, available to kiss and sleep with whomever he chose.

He’d made his choice, and the chosen soggy woman sat behind a desk trying to make sense of it all. She crossed her arms on the cool surface and rested her chin on them, watching the ring, expecting it to do some kind of party trick or square dance after all the attributes she’d assigned to it. But there it stayed, not mocking, not laughing, not judging.

She watched it from the corner of her eye when she checked her computer, hoping work would distract her from obsessing. That became an exercise in futility. After she read one very harshly worded email from the union for her reckless behavior in the little theatre and a cease and desist for touching equipment that was ‘outside the scope of the job title House Manager,’ Jo gave up. Fucking unions and their rules and chapters (of which she’d violated three) couldn’t get over themselves to change a fucking lightbulb.

Jo knew that she should get on with it, face the music of insurance companies, claims for damages, and scheduling repairs but her head was done in by Ansgar’s kiss… still, Goddamnit. By his own admission, he didn’t ‘want just a fuck.’ This bounced around her head for a bit, sussing what that implication of that might mean. Up until he said that, she didn’t consider him anything more than that. Frankly sometimes – many times – he was a bastard and she couldn’t quite decide if she hated him for it or liked him for it.

When her marriage ended in divorce, Jo considered her dating life differently. She was what stores would label as ‘sold as is.’ She wasn’t damaged, just used. She didn’t carry a shit ton of baggage on her back for a bad marriage, because it simply wasn’t. Her prospects were fewer and most were worth nothing more than few drinks down the pub and a couple of nights of casual sex. Because she’d moved so much since her divorce, she never allowed herself to get close to any man.

Until Ansgar Martinsson ask—well, demanded a date before he took her to bed. The idea poked a part of her that she thought unattainable, giddy excitement, nervous energy. Her heart fluttered at the idea of it.

Jo wandered from her office, away from the impending work. She wanted to check on the progress in the main theatre before taking off to wash the stench of rust and steel and whatever bacteria stuff Ansgar named. Her head wasn’t really in it… the ring, the date, the night of sex in front of her. Ansgar cast his magic spells and glamour and her entire head was consumed with him.

“Jojo-bean?”

She looked up to discover that she’d traveled as far as the lobby of the main theatre. She couldn’t remember how she got there, but suddenly she was blinking at her friend. “Uh… hallo… um, Georg.”

“You alright? Been talking at you for two minutes straight.”

“Uh… yeah, she cleared her throat ansd shook her head to focus. “Yeah, fine. How’re the… repairs going here?”

Georg tsked, “That’s what I been tellin’ ya. Steffan threatened to rearrange the face of one of the Martinsson boys for changing his designs. The dude was not happy.”

“Uh… that’s brilliant,” she patted his shoulder distractedly, looking for her exit.

“Sure it is. If you want real blood staining the stage for the next production of Titus Andronicus,” Georg replied with a roll of his eyes.

“I’ll… uh, definitely look into it,” Jo covered when her head revisited a heated moment with Ansgar on her couch.

Georg grasped her shoulders, “I think all the water made your brain a little soggy there, Jojo-bean. So fuck on off out of here then. I’ll watch things here.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Exactly how many times did you wash your hair, Joline?” her mother grilled when her daughter finally emerged.

“I lost count. Four… maybe seven… I’ve got a lot on my mind, mama.”

“I can tell, there’s nothing left in the conditioner bottle.”

Jo wrapped the towel around her body once more, tucking it into itself so she could do other things, like haggle with her mother. “That was at least half empty this morning.”

“You know, you work too much, Joline.”

Jo shuffled her mother into the kitchen to get her concentrating on something other than why she wouldn’t be home tonight. “So you tell me. Everyday.”

“It’s still true,” the older woman griped, sticking hands back into a tossed salad she neglected. “The meeting tonight is about the accident at the little theatre.”

“Yes, mama. The CEO of Martinsson Construction was there when the pipe broke. He’s picking me up for a business dinner.”

Tearing the lettuce to bits, Emelie snickered to herself, “And you need the Louboutins for a dinner meeting?”

“CEO… Yes, mama.” Jo called over her shoulder as she made her way through the house to her bedroom to dress.

“Bullshit, daughter,” she muttered to herself, appreciating that Jo tried to shield her from some things.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jo entered the kitchen fastening a diamond teardrop earring to her ear, the Louboutins clicking along the hardwood floors. She’d paired them with a simple black dress with a scoop neck and backline and a lace overlay. It was one of the dresses that she kept for events at the theatre. She always hated the cliché of a little black dress, but black was her color and she loved the shape of the dress.

Emelie huffed a scoffing-smirk into her stew concoction that she’d been cooking. “Joline, I’m glad that you’re taking such a keen interest in the repairs.”

“Fine, mama, fine… you win.” Jo threw her arms up in surrender, eyes bulged at being found out. “But can’t we pretend that we have a normal mother-daughter relationship?”

“We can pretend when you don’t look like you just walked off the catwalk in Milan instead of the bedroom down the hall,” she laughed stirring in some more vegetables.

Joline tried to keep a straight face, but the truth was she liked that her mother didn’t interfere or mess with her life, let her make her own mistakes and her own decisions. “I texted Elias. He’ll come by tonight to check on you for bed, yeah?”

“Did he buy the business dinner thing?”

“Of course he did,” she replied laughing at her own joke, “but he didn’t see the fuck me shoes!”

“Have fun… and remember, grandchildren are blessings.”

“And so are mothers who don’t know so much.” She kissed her mother on the cheek, checking for fever with her hand on the cheek not kissed. “I’ll have my mobile with me if you need me, yeah?”

“Your brother has one too.”

“I’m serious, mama. If you need me, I’ll come home.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You didn’t keep me waiting,” Ansgar commented when Joline was seated beside him in the hired car. He had good reason to keep the partition up between himself and the driver for business dealings when he needed privacy. He considered taking advantage while the woman of his desire looked good enough to eat.

“I got my orders, entitled jackass.”

“Save that fire for the bedroom, darling. The night’s still young.”

Jo side-eyed him, not trusting herself to take him in all at once yet. The crisp bespoke suit on him sizzled a few brain cells in her head already. “I feel naked, you undressed me four times already. I’ve been in the car twenty seconds.”

[saturn-rowlf-wrong]

Chapter One: That Suffix is Greek For Destroyer.

Equius was dead to begin with. No, that’s a stupid beginning.  Let’s start somewhere happier.

John, Dave, and Karkat were playing Mario Kart. They were in Dave’s house. Dave, being a Hero of Time, could easily use some time travel to make sure the place stayed clean, but no, junk littered the area. The mess spanned from a stack of dinosaur fossils next to the tv, to an impressive tower of cups and plates in the sink. Dave’s sword, Caledfwlch, was plunged in the wall. Three boys sat on the leather sofa. Man, this sofa is comfortable. Karkat sat on the right. He was the Knight of Blood. He’s pretty shouty. Dave, the Knight of Time, sat in the middle. He wore sunglasses, and liked making raps and archaeology. What a cool guy. John sat on the left. He was the Heir of Breath and he liked Nick Cage movies.

Image 1: The Boys

“YOU BETTER NOT BE AIMING THAT RED SHELL AT ME, JOHN EGBERT.” Karkat whispered, not daring to release his eye contact from the screen.

On the tv screen, Yoshi crept behind Bowser, a red shell a way from causing personal destruction.

John showed no mercy. “Hehehehe.”

Karkat growled. “I’M WARNING YOU, EGBERT.”

John threw his red shell.

Karkat threw his joy-con. “OH F*** YOU, EGBERT. YOU KNOW HOW STUPID YOU LOOK IN YOUR BIDDYBUGGY? WHY DID YOU EVEN THINK YOU COULD FACE MY LANDSHIP? YOU THINK A RED SHELL WILL STOP ME? YOU ARE ONE LAP AWAY FROM YOUR JUDGEMENT DAY, GOT IT? ONE. LAP. AWAY.

Roy zoomed on his Yoshi Bike, right past Bowser and crashed right into Yoshi, completely wrecking him.

Image 2: Roy

 “Hoisted by your own petard, John.” Dave said. “It’s pretty stupid that Roy is the only character who wears shades in this game. Like, who even cares about Roy. He’s like one of Bowser’s kids, and even though he looks more like Bowser, we all know Bowser Junior is the best. Phenotype vs. genotype I think. Anyway, get wasted, boys.”

“Dude, you’re being a total butt,” John said. “And Karkat, you know this is just a game, right? Wait, are you driving backwards?”

Karkat was hoping 8th place would let him receive the blue shell. It didn’t. But he did not let that phase him.

“I’m doing what I have to,” Karkat said as he got the lightning bolt power-up. “I’m scratching the session.” Gauging their position on the map, he released the storm right as Dave and John were jumping across a chasm, causing them to fall in, destroying their chances for first place. The boys cursed.

“HAHAHAHA,” Karkat laughed. “JUDGEMENT OF BLOOD. ARE YOU BUTTHURT, JOHN? ARE YOU BUTTHURT, DAVE? I HAVE DECIMATED Y’ALL.

“Karkat, you made us fall in 4th and 5th,” Dave said bitterly. “You were in 8th.”

“I BASE MY SUCCESS ON THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT, LIKE A WRITER OF A STORY LOVED BY A DEDICATED AND VULNERABLE FANDOM. I MEAN AUDIENCE” Karkat said, making his way to the kitchen. “YOU THINK WHEN WE DEFEATED LORD ENGLISH AND INHERITED THE NEW UNIVERSE I WOULD JUST SETTLE DOWN? THERE WAS A TOTAL OF 12 TROLLS IN MY SESSION, AND ONLY THREE OF US DIDN’T DIE, WHILE ALL 4 HUMANS IN YOUR SESSION SURVIVED, AS DID THE FOUR HUMANS IN THE OTHER SESSION. I MEAN, TECHNICALLY WE ALL DIE IN OTHER TIMELINES, THE SAME WAY WE ALL ACHIEVE GOD TIER IN ONE REALITY OR THE OTHER. FUNNY: NEITHER KANAYA, TEREZI, OR I ACHIEVED GOD TIER IN THIS TIMELINE THOUGH. HOW ABOUT THAT? IS THAT CONVENIENT? IT’S LIKE MY STORY ISN’T OVER YET. HMMM. BUT SEE. I DON’T NEED GOD TIER. I’M THE KNIGHT OF BLOOD.  I AM DESTINED TO DESTROY MARIO KART. THAT MIGHT AS WELL BE CANON. I DON’T NEED GOD TIER, I AM ALREADY A HIVEWRECKER. YEAH, THAT’S CANON NOW TOO. KNIGHT OF BLOOD EQUALS MARIOCLAST. YES. THAT SUFFIX. IN FACT, FORGET ABOUT ASPECTS. FORGET ABOUT BLOOD AND BREATHE AND TIME AND SPACE AND LIGHT AND VOID AND HOPE AND RAGE AND LIFE AND DOOM. THERE ARE ONLY THOSE WHO DESTROY AND GET DESTROYED. BOOM BOOM, MOTHERGRUBBERS, THAT’S CANON AGAIN. THERE ARE THINGS OUT THERE THAT CAN’T BE EXPLAINED. LIKE WHERE DID SGRUB COME FROM? OR SBURB, I GUESS THAT’S THE HUMAN WORD FOR IT. THE NAME FOR THE GAME WE ALL PLAYED. SBURB. AND I DON’T REALLY KNOW HOW WE BEAT LORD ENGLISH. I DON’T CARE THOUGH. WHAT I REALLY WORRY ABOUT IS THE HORRORTERRORS. THOSE SPOOKY TROLL-LOVECRAFTIAN ANCIENT GODS THAT SPEAK TO US IN DREAMS FROM THE DEEPEST REACHEST OF PARADOX TIME AND PARADOX SPACE. BUT I WON’T GO INTO THAT. WHO WANTS SOME RUFFLES.”

“I’ll have some Ruffles,” John said. Karkat took some chips and threw them at the Heir of Breath. “Thanks, Karkat.” John was used to Karkat’s rants. This one was pretty short, really.

Dave took an apple juice from the fridge. “Dude, are you talking about my dreams again?” he asked. “Don’t worry John with that stuff, it really doesn’t matter.”

“What dreams?” John asked.

“HE KEEPS FLINCHING IN HIS SLEEP AND WAKING UP AND NOT TELLING ME WHAT’S WRONG.” Karkat said, throwing chips at Dave. “DID YOU KNOW HE SLEEPS WITH HIS SHADES? I CAN’T EVEN LOOK HIM IN THE EYES AND KNOW WHAT’S WRONG. ALL I GET IS THE DOUBLE-REFLECTION OF A CONCERNED FRIEND AND PARTNER. ME, IN THE REFLECTIONS OF HIS STUPID GLASSES.

Dave drinks his juice.

“Wait, do you guys sleep together?” John asked, unwittingly entering a touchy subject. Neither troll or cool dude responded. It was pretty awkward. John started to feel stupid and blush, so he made an excuse to go home and get his phone charger. Then he dissipated into wind, because that’s the sort of thing you can do when you’re a Hero of Breath.

The John molecules regathered in his house as he jumped on his bed to get the charger he left between it and the wall. He really did forget it. What was he going to do about Dave and Karkat though? It was obvious they liked each other. Honestly, a lot of people he knew were together. Sheesh, Kanaya and Rose got married and they never went through anything like this. Maybe he should text them. Wait no, he needed some experienced with the internalized homophobic behaviors and messy relationship, not something perfect. John called Jake.

“Well if isn’t my dear grandson in some timey-wimey something or other.” Jake crowed.

“Um, yeah? Listen, I need some help with my gay friends’ relationship and I thought you were the most qualified to help me help them.” John said.

“Crikey, John, you could not have made a worse call on judgement.” Jake chuckled.

“Haven’t you been dating Dirk for like a year now?” John asked.

“Ha ha, just because I’ve been blessed by Lady Luck doesn’t mean I fathom how it occurred. When it comes to relationships, my wisdom is nil, I’m afraid.” Jake apologized.

“You sure?” John asked. “Because I think Dave and Karkat’s problem is that they don’t want to admit their gay. Or, I guess that’s normal on Karkat’s planet. Not that that planet exists anymore, just that maybe Karkat might have a problem with dating a human. Like, they like each other but they’re afraid there’s something wrong with that.”

“Mm,” Jake intoned. “I think I know the shot you’re shooting for. Your comrades are afraid of not fitting the shape society made for them, even though we inherited a new universe and our traditions are being built from the ground up, from random chance and foggy memory. The culture they were born into is ingrained in their beings”

“Yeah, that,” John said.

“Well, if I am to dispense any council to you, by true-blue friend, is that a lack of communication can leave both parties feeling culpable, and the silence will just force them into roles that only demean them and show them in the worst light. Blood can spoil in someone’s heart, John. It can sour someone’s spirit. The old blood can kill you if you don’t do anything to replace it. They just should come clean with each other, because if you don’t respect your partner enough to tell him the truth, then how do you expect him to spend his life with you?”

“Jesus Christ, what on earth are you talking about?” John asked.

“By asking forgiveness. Because we all want to be forgiven, and people are really more sympathetic then we realized. At least, in my opinion. Anyway, I should get going John. It was a joy hearing from you.”

“You too, Jake. Thank you so much, this was really helpful.” John said, hanging up. Man, he just forgot everything Jake told them. Maybe he should’ve texted Rose, she would have a mature way of handling this. John aeroported himself back to Dave’s place. Yep, aeroport, that’s the word for when John turns into wind and transports somewhere. It’s CANON now.

“Hey guys, I found my charger,” John said walking into the living room. Dave was sitting at the table alone, staring at an incomplete game of Connect Four and several empty juice boxes.

“Karkat went home,” Dave said, completing a #red!Six-In-A-Row. “We had an argument, I guess.”

“What?” John said. “Did he leave while playing Connect Four. That’s unlike him. He would’ve thrown it to the ground.”

“Nah, dude, he stormed off with my Nintendo Switch and remaining bag of chips. I sent this game up post-argument, and I’ve been playing by myself ever since.”

“Dave, do you want to talk about something!?” John yelled.

“Well, yeah I had something in the old thinkpan. A real thought omelet. It’s not even an omelet any more, it’s a scrambled egg of contemplation, transfigured by the a worryspoon. It’s been in the thinkpan so long it’s starting to dry. The spoon keeps it from burning, flipping it indefinitely. But if this thought had any less moisture it would beat the Saharan desert in levels of dryness. Heck, it would beat a sandwich without any condiments. It would beat all the jars of peanut butter in the world if you even could conceive such a level of dryness of existing, and there’s no cup of milk or seasonal rain or hand turning off the oven flame that could change these levels of dryness. S***, I need another apple juice.”

“Yes. Please keep talking,” John said in a manner which was not desperate.

“Like, if this was a frog it would probably die. I just would. I mean, it just would. I’m not a Kermit, John. I just have some things I’m concerned about, and maybe Karkat flew off the handle because I was unreasonably keeping the door locked.” Dave said.

“Uh, yeah. You know if you ever need to talk to me, Dave, I’m here,” John said.

“I know,” Dave said. “That’s why we’re talking.

“Yeah, John said. “We’re talking.”

Dave: …

John: …

Dave: …

John: …

Dave: …

John (in pain): “So if you need talk about your relationship with Karkat—"

Dave: “What.”

John: “What.”

Dave: “I’ve been having these terrible nightmares, dude.”

John: “…”

John: “What.”

Dave: “John, I’ve been having nightmares about a figure with a burning skull. It rode a badass™ motorcycle and had knives for claws. It was a freaking Freddy Kruger demon, man. A dragon and a demon. And the sky was full of fireworks but I couldn’t tell what color they were because everything was black and white. It looked at me with its burning eyes and horns and it was holding a puppet. But the puppet was me, John. And then the skeleton changed and it had broken horns and cracked glasses and it told me to go back into the Game. John. I was the puppet.”

John: “…is this another metaphor.”

Dave: “No John. There are ghosts out there that want me to go back into Sburb. It said I needed to return, for my sake and his, and for everything that we had to let go of when we lose someone we loved. And then he wasn’t holding a puppet. He was holding a carton of eggs.”

John:  0 :

Dave: Karkat says I should forget about, but that’s because he doesn’t want me to leave him. Can’t blame him though. It’s a fool’s errand. But I’m that fool. Every fiber of being is telling to go on this errand. Do it, my fibers say. Be the fool. Not that know where I’d begin. But he said he wouldn’t help me and we started arguing and he ran out. That’s when I started to drink away my sorrows with apple juice.

John scratched his head. “So, you’re saying that you got a dream from… the Ghost Rider?”

“Yeah,” Dave said.

“Except he was probably a troll, since he had horns?” John asked.

“Troll Ghost Rider, yep, it appears so,” Dave said.

“Ghost Rider was a Nick Cage movie,” John said.

“Hm,” Dave said.

“Unless it asks you to make a deal. Wait, no that was Mephistopheles. You haven’t sold your soul to the devil, have you, Dave?”

“Hey, John, how about we don’t talk about Nicolas Cage, okay?” Dave asked.

“I mean, we could.” John said.

“Please. Could you do me a favor and breeze us to the Monument?”

“Sure,” John said, and he

“Wait,” Dave interrupted. He walked to his sword, unsheathing it from the hole in the wall. “Alright, now I’m ready. John held on to Dave’s arm as he areoported them to the Monument.

The sun had not yet set, but it had painted the sky pink in preparation for its departure. The sky is so pretty.

The Monument was shaped as the Sburb logo, a white house the size of… well, a house. They had opened the door from the other side, stepping into the new universe and out of the game. They were able to take the inhabitants of the game’s planets with them, although the door of the house soon vanished, leaving only a white expanse of sleek material.

Dave put his hand on the surface. He tried kicking it. He tried hitting it with his sword. Nothing worked. John watched him. This was not going as he planned. John tried making the breeze open the Monument. Nope, that was stupid.

“But Dave, don’t you have time travel powers?” John asked, lying on the grass.

“I can’t time travel into the game. It’s locked somehow,” Dave replied.

“Oh,” John said. “That’s a bummer.”

Dave sat down next to him. “I guess this was a waste of time. It’s like time is chocolate wrapper, and opportunity is a just a golden ticket you’re searching for. Look at all the time in the trash, and no golden ticket to show for it.”

“That’s pretty good, Dave. You should put it one of your rap songs.” John said.

“No, John, it was cheesy. Which is why you like it,” Dave said. “You know what I want to write about? All the people we left behind. Not just the dead but like movies and books and our human culture. I want this new culture to know about Snoop Dog, John. I want them to know about Texas, and CoolMathGames4Kids and the Great Wall Of China. This are all things that would’ve matter in a historical context but now it’s personal. I need people to know these things because things that existed should be cherished. Maybe. I don’t know. I feel like I need to prove something. This is irrelevant to anything that occurred today, though. “

“How long have you had these dreams, Dave?” John asked.

“Hmmmm I guess I’ve known the dream demon for a week now.” Dave said, taking off his glasses to clean them. “Crap, I forgot how bright the world is. “I’m putting these back on.”

“Hey, Dave.” John said.

Dave leaned backward until he was on his back. “Yeah, John?”

“How about we visit the cemetery?”

[saidnoneever]

“Without blame”? As in, “Don’t blame me for the consequences of what I’ve been saying and doing for all these years”? Nice try, Dr. Bob. You’re not getting off that easily, nor will you be so easily allowed to shift the blame to the parents who listened to you rather than your own words and behavior. In fact, Dr. Bob’s reminded me of so much of an antivaccine meme originated at The Vaccine Machine, a virulently and unfortunately popular Facebook page run by the equally virulent and antivaccine Robert Schecter, that’s dedicated to trashing vaccines and spreading antivaccine pseudoscience that I just had to post it here:

Yes, notice how Dr. Bob even invokes a variant of the “argumentum ad Brady Bunch mum” fallacy when he mentions how “grandma and grandpa” poo-poo the measles as being “just like the chicken pox” and dismiss it with, “We all had it,” an attitude that he compares to that of a 25-year-old mother who’s never seen the measles before and therefore fears it because she doesn’t know it. It’s a rather clever inversion of the argument frequently used by pro-vaccine bloggers that point out that the reason parents don’t fear vaccine-preventable diseases anymore the usual example used being polio is that they’ve never personally witnessed the death and complications these diseases used to cause. In retrospect, I’m actually a bit surprised Dr. Bob didn’t mention the infamous “measles” episode of The Brady Bunch, actually. Come on, Dr. Bob. Let it out! You know you want to!

On that note, after having read Dr. Bob’s treatise above, I’d like you to go and read Marcella Piper-Terry’s initial response to the Disneyland measles outbreak from January 8 entitled “Measles at Disneyland!” Can you tell the difference? Other than Piper-Terry’s longer post, with calculations designed to make you think that measles was never a big deal, Dr. Bob is using exactly the same arguments without adding the calculations, in particular the key argument being that measles in developed countries is not a threat, only in those “other” people in Third World countries who aren’t as developed as we are because, you know, we’re superior. Measles doesn’t kill very many of us compared to those poor, blighted savages! (I exaggerate, but, I contend, only a little.) He dismisses complications of measles as being “treatable” and therefore of little consequence. In fact, he makes it sound as though a measles-associated ear infection is equivalent to measles-associated pneumonia, dismissing them both as “treatable” with a jaunty, “Ya, you don’t want those things to happen, but they are treatable.” Never mind that many, if not most, cases of measles-associated pneumonia require hospitalization, many also requiring an ICU stay. As Dr. Roy Benaroch sarcastically puts it in his post entitled “Dr. Sears continues to salute our children with his middle finger“, many parents would indeed consider an ICU stay “somewhat of an inconvenience.” (I like Dr. Benaroch’s style.)

Think of it this way. According to the CDC, before the vaccine, 48,000 people a year were hospitalized for the measles; 4,000 developed measles-associated encephalitides and 400 to 500 people died. By any stretch of the imagination that was a significant public health problem, and the introduction of the measles vaccine in 1963, followed by the MMR in 1971, made it much less so. As Dr. John Snyder reminded us five years ago responding to Dr. Sears making the same arguments in his book, measles is not a benign disease, regardless of what popular culture thought of it 50 or 60 years ago.

Of course, even Dr. Bob has to concede that measles-associated encephalitis is a Very Bad Thing, but he dismisses the risk with an equally jaunty rejoinder that encephalitis is “extremely rare in well-nourished people” (i.e., his well-off patients at whom his Facebook post is aimed). As for death, Dr. Bob’s message is, “Don’t worry, be happy.” After all, according to him, the risk of fatality is “as close to zero as you can get without actually being zero,” or one in many thousands. Funny how Dr. Bob (and the antivaccine activists to whom he panders) dismiss a possibility of death of this magnitude as being of no consequence; yet, a one in a million chance of Guillan-Barre disease after the meningococcal vaccine (or a one in several hundred thousand risks of severe reactions to vaccines in general) is completely unacceptable. Indeed, if you accept at face value Dr. Bob’s grossly-exaggerated estimate for a severe vaccine reaction of one in 100,000, by Dr. Bob’s own definition, the risk of severe reactions to any given vaccine is even lower than “as close to zero as you can get without actually being zero.” Even if you accept Dr. Bob’s even more ridiculously inflated estimate that the risk that “anyone child will suffer a severe reaction over the entire, twelve-year vaccine schedule is about 1 in 2600,” I can’t help but note that we’re now in the range of the likelihood of a child with measles dying due to this disease in the United States. To Bob, the risk of these vaccine injuries is unacceptable, but a similar or much higher risk of death if a child catches the measles is just the cost of doing antivaccine business. According to Dr. Bob, yes, sooner or later a child is going to die of the measles—and won’t that be so tragic?—but it’ll likely only be one.

Hypocrisy thy name Bob Sears

If Bob Sears weren’t such a worthless excuse for a pediatrician when it comes to promoting misinformation about vaccines, I’d almost feel sorry for him. Almost. He is, however, a perfect example of what the phrase “hoist with his own petard” means. Dr. Bob has for years made a profitable career for himself as the “reasonable” face of the vaccine-averse, painting himself as not like all those other loony antivaccinationists out there but rather as a reasonable pediatrician taking a “middle way” and “listening to parents.” Now the consequences of the ideas Dr. Bob has promoted are starting to become apparent, with measles outbreaks becoming increasingly common right on his home turf, leading the parents of his patients to ask him what to do now that the low vaccine uptake encouraged by him are facilitating measles outbreaks like the most recent one in Disneyland. They are asking him for guidance, and he’s fobbing off the responsibility on them, telling them just to “get the vaccine” and if you “don’t want the vaccine, accept the risk.” Nice.

I’ve been fearing for a long time that the US was only several years behind the United Kingdom and Europe when it comes to suffering a major resurgence of the measles and that such a resurgence was coming. I hope I’m wrong, but I fear that 2015 might finally be the tipping point when measles really come roaring back to levels not seen in a quarter century or even more. If that happens, Dr. Bob Sears will have to take his share of the blame for cashing in on fear and driving vaccination rates down. He’s not alone.

[oselatra]

Loaves and fishes

A proposed ordinance would limit the ability of charities to feed the homeless in LR city parks. Opponents say it's about keeping the poor out of sight, out of mind.

From a purely civic standpoint — from a keeping-your-constituency-from-hating-your-guts standpoint — the issue of homelessness is so thorny for a politician it almost makes you pity them. Almost. There is no right answer to be had, no one-size-fits-all solution big enough to stretch over the issue, bristling as it is with handy petards ready to hoist both those deemed insufficiently business-oriented and those seen as insufficiently compassionate. No matter what decision a city official makes with regard to homelessness, somebody, somewhere, is going to think that person either a bleeding-heart dope or a heartless bastard for making it.

Still, there are insufficient answers, and then there are the willfully tone-deaf ones. That seems to be the case with Little Rock's recent attempt to regulate mass feedings of the homeless in city parks, via a surprise ordinance that seemed so punitive and downright mean that it gave even some reliable business-first folks around town pause for thought. Dropped on city directors at the tail end of a City Board agenda meeting May 9, the ordinance as originally written would have prohibited feeding meals to more than 25 people in a city park without securing a "Large Group Feeding Permit" from the city at least 30 days before the event, with groups not allowed to serve meals in the same park more than twice a year. Though certain restrictions in the ordinance have been softened after public outcry, the original draft required each group to put down a $500 refundable security deposit "to cover the cost of repairing any damage to the hardscape, furnishings and landscape" in the park where the feeding occurred, with the deposit potentially forfeited if the group failed to pick up trash following their event. If the group wanted police protection for the event, the draft ordinance stated, it had to hire off-duty police officers at its own cost. In addition, the ordinance gave the city manager's office the ability to summarily cancel a feeding event in a city park at any time, postponing it for up to 15 days if City Hall determined the event should not proceed because of "weather, public health conditions, public safety conditions, or because of an intervening event that was not foreseen at the time the large group feeding application was filed."

Attempts to reach City Manager Bruce Moore, who brought up the ordinance, were unsuccessful before press time.

Groups serving the homeless fed large groups under the Broadway Bridge on a monthly basis for over a decade until the bridge was closed for construction in September 2016. It appears the ordinance was tailored to preserve the aesthetics of Riverfront Park and has outraged those who work with the homeless. In the process, it has managed to shove one of Little Rock's most enduring elephants in the room back into the rotunda of City Hall.

At a May 16 City Board meeting — one packed with homeless people and their supporters, who streamed in directly from a protest picnic hosted by homeless advocacy groups at the front of City Hall — Vice Mayor Kathy Webb and City Director Dean Kumpuris moved to table the ordinance (by then somewhat defanged, with the required security deposit dropped from $500 to $100 and other concessions) for 45 days and empanel a commission of city employees, homeless advocates and business leaders to study the issue and look for solutions. Members of the committee include representatives from River Market district businesses, the Arkansas Homeless Coalition, the Little Rock Convention and Visitors Bureau, area faith leaders, the Little Rock Police Department, the Clinton Presidential Center, two representatives who are homeless and others. The move to table and study passed by a vote of 9-1, with Director Ken Richardson voting against.

While the talking cure hasn't managed to budge the issue of homelessness in Little Rock much in the past, as some on the City Board pointed out, at least people are discussing it again. Given that homelessness is so easy for city leaders and workaday folks to ignore, maybe that's progress.

oddest things about the draft feeding ordinance was that nobody, even city directors, who will vote to kill or pass an amended version in mid-July once the committee's recommendations are made, seems to have known that it was coming.

"I don't know of any director that knew that was coming down," Capi Peck, Ward 4 city director, said. "Bruce Moore passed that ordinance out to us at the very end of the agenda meeting. We normally get a packet of information with what's going to be in the agenda meeting. That was not included. It was passed out literally five minutes before we recessed. We were all taken aback. I did later find out that this was something that the city attorney had been working on and researching for a couple of years."

Peck said her initial reaction to the ordinance was that it was "awful," and not something she or any board member could get behind. While Peck said she believes the city does more for the homeless than it gets credit for — she points to the Jericho Way homeless day resource center at 33rd Street and Springer Boulevard, noting that Jericho served over 10,000 meals to the homeless and provided over 10,000 shuttle rides to the facility last year — she believes the attempt to float an ordinance restricting compassionate feeding of the poor gave the city an unneeded black eye.

While Peck said she was initially in favor of voting down the ordinance as it was originally presented, she said the establishment of a committee to study the issue was a step in the right direction.

"I was appalled, and I think most of us [on the City Board] were absolutely appalled," she said. "With that being said, we do have a lot of work to do in that respect. Maybe this wasn't a bad thing that it came out this way. It brings it out into the public arena. Let's not react, let's do something positive about it."

Ward 2 Director Richardson, the lone board member to vote against tabling the ordinance and forming a committee to discuss it, said he is still questioning why city leaders thought the ordinance was necessary. "Nobody has presented to me a rationale for us doing this," he said. "The notion of us trying to penalize or criminalize people trying to help the least of us doesn't make any sense at all. I don't think it's a good or fair representation of the city I represent and the city I grew up in. It's just not the image that we want to have."

Like Peck, Richardson said the ordinance seemed to have "dropped out of the blue" at the end of the May 9 agenda meeting. Also like Peck, Richardson was taken aback by the seeming mean-spiritedness of the proposed ordinance. He believes the city has bigger fish to fry than trying to curtail compassionate feedings. "I thought the ordinance and the idea — let's say this so I don't hurt anybody's feelings — I thought both of those didn't make sense," he said. "I won't say it was idiotic, but it was crazy to me in terms of the issues that are pressing before us right now. ... It just came out of the blue. It's crazy, at best, if I had to have a word to describe it. That's at best."

Webb, who represents Ward 3, said she was surprised when she saw the language of the ordinance, which she has heard came in response to "numerous complaints" about the downtown homeless, including reports of panhandling. She said she wished the city had handled the issue differently, including giving the board advance notice that an anti-feeding ordinance was being considered.

"I wish somebody would have said, 'Look, we're getting all these complaints. This is something we need to talk about.' " Webb said. "We could have gotten some folks together to talk about it so we could have done what we're doing now, rather than have this ordinance, which — I don't think people are really mean — but I think the ordinance sounds very mean-spirited, even though other cities have done this. I don't like surprises, and to a lot of people this was a surprise."

While Webb said she understands the call to have simply voted the original ordinance down, she believes forming the committee to study the problem, look at solutions found by other cities, and make suggestions is a better approach to an issue that isn't going away.

"We don't talk much anymore," she said. "We've got people who get their news from one source, and people who get their news from another, and whatever either one of them says is true. We don't discuss. ... I think we have to talk about hard issues and give folks a chance to say, 'I know this is what you think, but this is the reality.' "

Webb said that while the time for the committee to make recommendations is tight — it will present its report at the agenda meeting July 11, with a vote on the possibly amended ordinance on July 18 — she believes its members can move the ball on the issue. She said her ultimate goal is reaching voluntary agreements between advocates, business owners and the city so the board doesn't have to put in place an ordinance to regulate feedings. She would like to see the committee stay on for the foreseeable future, to try to find long-term solutions.

"One of the things that's exciting about [the committee] is that we have people at the table with differences of opinion," she said. "It gives us an opportunity. ... We've got a starting point here. ... In my mind, if we can work together and have more collaboration on this, we can talk about, 'OK, we can work together on tiny houses, we can work together on mental health services, we can work together on more effective job training.' When we talk about homelessness, there's not one solution for everything. But when we can provide these additional services that can get at the core of what's an underlying issue for many people, we can drastically reduce the number of people who are homeless, and help people."

asked by the Arkansas Homeless Coalition to serve as one of their representatives on the committee to study the ordinance and the issue, Aaron Reddin, founder of the mobile homeless outreach charity The Van, declined. He's got better things to do with his time than talk, he said, including — until the crankcase seal on his tractor blew a few days back — bush-hogging an overgrown, 5-acre plot he recently secured behind The Van's headquarters on Faulkner Lake Road in North Little Rock. When it's cleared and the stumps pulled, Reddin plans to plow the acreage into turn rows and plant the whole thing in vegetables — beans, potatoes, corn and tomatoes — which he said he will then give away to whomever the hell he pleases, preferably in a Little Rock city park.

Lean and bearded, a former Marine who carries a megaphone around in his cluttered and mud-splattered 4-wheel-drive truck, Reddin has been helping the homeless all over the state for 12 years now, working 80-hour weeks at times to fulfill a near-monastic calling to bring help, food, clothing and services directly to those who need it most. Like many local homeless advocates, Reddin was incensed by the anti-feeding ordinance, and incensed again when the City Board voted to table and study the issue instead of voting to kill it altogether. Reddin said he has yet to hear a rationale that justifies hindering the feeding of hungry people in city parks.

"These city parks are maintained by city sales tax dollars," he said. "Every homeless person in this town spends money in this town. They pay tax. They don't have the luxury of going on Amazon and ordering shit. Everything they buy, they pay taxes on. So they have just as much right to be there as anyone else. Food is life. To tell folks they can't share food one with another, it's just absurd."

Reddin said he sees the homeless feeding ordinance as the latest move in a longstanding effort by the city to push the homeless out of sight, out of mind — and away from the downtown areas where tourists and visitors congregate. He sees the location of Jericho Way — which is miles from the downtown core, closes at 4:30 p.m., and isn't open on weekends — as indicative of that effort, along with a series of recent evictions of homeless camps, which Reddin said have stepped up drastically since the first of the year.

Several city leaders have disagreed that the placement of Jericho Way was part of a calculated effort to draw the homeless out of downtown. But, Reddin said, "You take Jericho Way and you put it three miles from downtown? And then your argument against feeding in the parks is 'well, we've got Jericho Way'? They don't serve supper. That's not a bash on Jericho Way. They're doing a great job, and I'm glad that it's there. But we've got folks all over. Southwest, West Little Rock. You don't want them all in one place, why have one resource center? Do multiple small ones around town."

Reddin is skeptical that the committee studying the issue can find real solutions in only 45 days. He said if the ordinance is approved in any form, it will undoubtedly curtail the advocacy and outreach work by his group and others. "We try and make sure we have food in the van when we're out," he said. "We may have two or three people walk up when we pull up, or we may have 15 or 20. ... Say I pull into MacArthur Park to help one person who has called in distress, and the next thing I know, 26 people show up. You're going to write me a ticket for giving out some food?"

The ACLU of Arkansas has come out in opposition to the feeding ordinance, saying it would lead to litigation, and Reddin said he'll be meeting shortly with a lawyer who has offered to help Reddin's group fight the ordinance in court for free if need be. Whatever the case, he plans on pushing back against the idea that he can't distribute food to friends who happen to be homeless.

"There's enough of us that we're going to keep sharing food," Reddin said. "They can write all the tickets they want, they can pass all the ordinances they want. It's unconstitutional and blatantly discriminatory. If that's the Little Rock they want to have, then they can have that at City Hall. The rest of us are going to fight for the people that really make this city what it is, which is a great city that cares about people."

Clark Gray, who said he has been homeless on the streets of Little Rock for over three years, agrees that many in Little Rock care about the homeless. Standing in front of City Hall, eating a dripping ice cream cone at the protest picnic the night the City Board voted to table the homeless feeding ordinance, Gray said there are numerous groups, including Reddin's The Van, that work hard to better the lives of homeless people. But, he said, there are other people who seem to see right through him.

"There's a lot of people who will shrug their shoulders at us, stick their noses up at us," he said. "All we're trying to do is survive. There's a lot of people out here with health problems, like me. I'll probably end up dying in these streets because I don't have a way to get to the shelters or the churches that have food. There's people who would starve to death if it wasn't for the kindness of the folks at the mission down here and The Van."

Usually confined to a wheelchair by painful blood clots in his legs, Gray said he believes the city's recent efforts to evict people from homeless camps and the proposed ordinance to limit group feeding in the city parks are part of a conscious effort to push the homeless away from the River Market area where tourists congregate.

"The old saying is, 'out of sight, out of mind,' " Gray said. "They just don't want to have to look at us. I don't think that's right. I'm trying to figure out a way to get the public to realize we're human, too. Ya'll got your fancy houses and cars and all this. But we just want to survive. There's a lot of times that people aren't able to go way across town to these homeless shelters or to a place where we can eat."

to study the homeless feeding ordinance held its first meeting at 7:30 a.m. May 23 at the Willie L. Hinton Neighborhood Resource Center on 12th Street. Fifteen coffee-stoked and fresh-scrubbed people met in a sparse, high-ceilinged room, untouched boxes of bagels and pastries growing stale on a nearby table. Though it was mostly a getting-to-know-you session with introductions all around, the conversation did eventually plunge into the red meat of the issue, with crosstalk often veering away from feeding to adjacent concerns about homelessness, from panhandling to mental illness to addiction. At one point, assistant City Manager James Jones, who serves as the facilitator of the committee, spoke up to say that the city Parks and Recreation Department has employees who sweep through Riverfront Park every morning before dawn, "collecting numerous syringes [and] needles," including from the playground area. At that, committee member Father Fred Ball, the pastor of San Damiano Ecumenical Catholic Church, asked the obvious. "That's important, safety," Ball said. "But I wonder how syringes found in the wee hours of the night tie to the feedings?"

Jim Garrett, an advocate for the homeless from St. James United Methodist Church who leads one of the groups that used to feed under the Broadway Bridge and serves dinner to the homeless and working poor twice a month at churches near Little Rock's Union Station and in Southwest Little Rock, asked much the same thing: Why was the connection being made between feeding people and drug abuse?

"Well," Jones said, "there's the perception. Real or not, the perception is there, whether it's true or not."

"We're there one hour, two times a month," Garrett said. "We're being considerate. We don't allow drug dealers or drug users. I'm insulted by that. We're not responsible for those parks the other 23 hours a day. If you're going to take that kind of stance, I don't see where we can possibly go with this."

While all present agreed they wanted to find a solution so that feeding the needy could continue, the meeting often spun away from the topic of filling hungry bellies and toward the negative effects of homelessness. One issue that came up was the urge to move the homeless away from tourist-heavy areas around Riverfront Park and the Broadway Bridge.

"A basic human need is survival and food," said Alan Sims, Little Rock Convention and Visitors Bureau vice president for sales and services. "So if you're feeding, it's an attractant. They're going to be attracted there. Why can't we balance? Why can't we attract them? It doesn't have to be in a park. It doesn't have to be where our children are. It doesn't have to be where there are safety issues and visitor issues. Why can't we attract them someplace else? I hope this group can find that. We want to feed and we want a great city. We can have both."

Parks and Recreation Director Truman Tolefree said the ordinance is about providing structure so that feeding in city parks doesn't become what he termed a "free-for-all."

"We have employees who are out there in cars at all times of the day," Tolefree said. "They work structured hours. If we don't know when groups are showing up, if we don't know when they're feeding or where they're feeding, or that kind of thing, we may have another activity planned. So we need to be able to have some kind of structure when people are coming to feed in the park."

After the meeting, Garrett, whose church has been holding large group feedings of the homeless in Little Rock for almost 10 years, said he felt a little more hopeful that the committee might be able to provide some solutions to the issue. He saw room for compromise, he said.

"In talking to [Vice Mayor] Webb," Garrett said, "I think there's some light at the end of the tunnel. I don't have the answer, but I feel that somewhere there's room to compromise. But it's got to be a pretty limited compromise. If we're talking about feeding, it's going to have to be in the downtown area somewhere. That's where the homeless people are. They're on foot. They can't come to us. They can traverse maybe a mile or so, but that's their area."

Father Ball and Garrett said they fail to see a direct correlation between problems like panhandling and drug abuse downtown and feedings in city parks. Both said they see it as their duty to continue to help find ways to get food to Little Rock's homeless.

"We weren't asked to do this. We were told to do this," Garrett said. "It's not one of the Ten Commandments, but maybe it's No. 11: to take care of the least and the widows and the poor."

Reached after the meeting, Jones said the committee is off to a productive start and will work toward consensus and a recommendation that everyone on the committee can support. "Working together, we can come to some kind of consensus and agree that there is a solution that everybody can be a part of and accept," he said. Asked whether he believes there is a direct correlation between feeding in Riverfront Park and needles found in the park, Jones repeated that the perception of a link is there.

"Are there facts to support that? I don't know. There's a perception that there is," he said. "There are a lot of homeless people who do sleep in the park. ... There are some people who think that when the feedings take place, they're going to stay where they're fed, and they'll stay there until the next day. That is a perception of citizens that call us all the time. They believe that. Is it a fact? I can't say that I have actual documentation to back that up."

The LRCVB's Sims said he is also optimistic that the committee can reach a solution. He said everybody on the committee agrees the feedings are a good thing, but a balance must be struck between what's good for the homeless and what's good for the city. Visitors to Little Rock, he said, serve as temporary taxpayers, spending money in local businesses. Because of that, he said, visitor perception of the city is a big concern.

"We want visitors to leave here and talk about how clean and great our city is and what wonderful generous and friendly people we have here," he said. "The old cliché 'perception is reality' very much applies. It goes back to what we started with: There's got to be a way that we can all do what we need to."

Sims said he's heard the arguments that every city has an issue with the homeless, but "that doesn't justify having an issue. We've got to be able to provide services for the homeless, be compassionate to the homeless, but also do that in consideration of the experience that our visitors have coming to the city. We need to balance all those."

Sims said he and the LRCVB are convinced that feeding the homeless needs to continue (his comments at the committee meeting about food possibly being used as an "attractant," he said, were misunderstood), and he added that the area near Riverfront Park is "very much part of a visitor zone for Little Rock" and probably shouldn't be used for mass feedings for that reason.

"Our convention center is right downtown, our primary hotels are right downtown, and they're all adjacent to the park," he said. "To be a guest in the hotel and look out the window and there's a large mass feeding going on right outside your hotel room, I'm questioning whether that's the image or the perception that we want. Would there not be a better place that might be more conducive to the feeding?"

Loaves and fishes

[sueboohscorner]

The Vampire Diaries 812 Recap “What Are You?” #TVD

Poor Matty Blue is having Maxwell legacy visions that are causing him to sleepwalk, and his somnambulist urges have delivered him to the Armory, where–yay!–Alaric is back! If anyone can fix the troubling sitch in Mystic Falls, it’s our favorite badass professor since Indiana Jones.

Matt confers with Alaric and Dorian about his nighttime troubles, and they realize he’s tapping into the memories of his ancestors, from which they hope to gain invaluable intel. They get him strapped in for a sleep study.

But that comes later, and of course, I’m stalling. Bonnie is in shock, crumpled on the floor of her house, Enzo’s lifeless body just outside her open front door. She takes a call from Damon and tearfully fills him in. Damon passes the news on to Caroline, who pretends to be confused about Bonnie’s stonewalling her in the aftermath of Caroline’s boyfriend murdering Bonnie’s boyfriend…Damon doesn’t let her get away with that self-delusion. 

But Caroline has her own fire to put out, so she calls Bonnie’s mom to help. Caroline’s fire? Well, Stefan’s been leaving his fingerprints all over murder scenes for the last couple of months, and he’s been arrested. With his newly restored humanity hitting him hard, he knows he deserves this and worse, but he still leaves with Caroline when she compels the cops to believe this was all a case of mistaken identity.

Damon is back in Mystic Falls, chewing on his own guilt and sorrow over Enzo’s death, when Cade arrives with news of the good and bad varieties. The good news is, their deal was for two immortal souls, so Stefan’s new mortality has nullified that arrangement; Damon no longer needs to kill for Cade. However, both their souls remain damned for oh-so-many reasons, and now that Stefan is mortal, Cade intends to collect his soul immediately…unless Damon will trade something Cade wants for Stefan to live out his mortal life, however long that may be. The thing Cade wants? The Maxwell journal featured in Matt’s visions and currently being studied at the Armory.

This is a terrible idea, but as we know, the Salvatore brothers’ greatest weakness has always been each other. There is no chance Damon will refuse this deal. 

He heads straight for the Armory, where Alaric disables him, then locks him up. Alaric knows Damon will not listen to reason. Damon watches from an Armory cell while Matt is going all Nightmare on Elm Street. Lucid dreaming in his hypnotic state allows Matt to narrate his visions. He’s seeing the life of Ethan Maxwell, the original metalworker who made the bell in partnership with the Bennett witches, one of whom was his girlfriend, Beatrice. While Ethan and Beatrice are engaged in some bell-adjacent flirting, Sibyl walks right up and says she needs the services of a gifted metalworker…dun dun dun!

Sibyl and Seline are living in the cave from which Sibyl will eventually be regrettably freed to ruin everyone’s lives. They have a plan to corrupt the bell’s purpose, and they Siren poor Ethan into doing their bidding. He can’t warn anyone about what he’s been forced to do, and for some reason, it takes him until the exact moment the plan is being enacted to get a sneaky message to Beatrice via their code key. He’s miserably ringing the bell and hoping to be stopped, and the gathered witches pour their energy into trapping the hellfire with a forcefield. They succeed, saving the town and keeping hell closed, but the coven is simply gone, possibly sucked into hell, certainly dead. Ethan leads Beatrice to the cave, where she seals the Sirens in, but she can’t prevent their song from influencing Ethan through the barrier; under their control, he attacks Beatrice, and she mournfully seals him in  the room where his bones, and his journal, will eventually be discovered. As she flees in sorrow, he shouts after her that he knows how to kill the devil but “cannot say,” which means he’s written it in his journal, in code. 

Unfortunately, Matt’s dreamscape is killing him, and in the heat of the moment, Alaric frees Damon to help. Of course, as soon as Matt’s medical situation is resolved, Damon grabs the book and superspeeds out of there to deliver it to Cade.

What Damon doesn’t know is that he’s currently bargaining for what might be a very short life indeed, as Stefan has been stabbed in the gut, and the Cure in his system prevents vamp-cures. His gut wound is the result of being hoisted on his own petard, so I’m not feeling bad for him: Realtor lady from last week is barely alive after he dumped her in the trunk of her own car with a gaping neck wound. He wouldn’t have given her a moment’s thought, apparently, but her daughter just happened to be at the police station filing a missing person’s report when Caroline was getting him out. The little girl says there’s no one else who can take care of her, “it’s just me and my mom,” and at that moment, even Caroline looks sickened. Stefan might have gone too far in Caroline’s eyes…unless they go find that woman before it’s too late. They do, and she stabs the guy who nearly killed her yesterday, which is her right as far as I’m concerned. You go, Karen.

Of course, Stefan survives the episode, and Karen is reunited with her daughter, so we’re meant to think this is something like a step toward redemption. I’m not buying it, and neither is Damon anymore…he asks Cade whether there’s any hope of earning freedom from damnation in time to avoid going to hell when they finally die. Cade smiles and says, “I wouldn’t want to give you false hope.”

Damon gives Stefan that false hope, though, when Stefan asks him a similar question. Damon, once again, is trying to bear a burden for his brother. 

Again, I’ve been stalling on the Enzo subplot. I wish I could say Bonnie and her mom witchy-wooed him back to life, but the current explanation for Bonnie’s psychic detonation last week is that her grief punched a door open between our world and hell. Her mom realizes this and burns Enzo’s body in the hope that will reseal the door. Bonnie heads for home and has a nice talk with Matt, who knows about loss and had come to genuinely respect Enzo.

Finally, Damon waltzes back into the Armory, and Alaric is on the verge of throwing down, but Damon smooth-talks him with the idea that he knows how to kill Cade, even without the journal. It’s a piece of Cade’s own cremains, forged into a weapon by the fires of hell. As they talk about killing the devil, in walks Kai!

Kai’s arrival with a “better plan” gives me real hope. What if he has a way to destroy hell without destroying those trapped there, essentially transforming hell into the Other Side–or better yet, returning them to the world, as Kai has returned? 

I’m so excited about having Kai around for more than a flashback or fantasy, this episode is a winner in my book. What about you? Share your theories about Kai’s “better plan” and what you hope to see in the last four episodes!

Episode grade: 9  

[clockworkdoorhinge]

ive been offline but nevermind the bollocks here's the shit posts

one of the things i would mimic from jewish people if i were planning a culture, is codifying how to join. i like that it was recognized that ethnicity flows from shared cultural inmarriage, not the other way round. like, tbc, cultural differentiation isn't a natural occurrence of like, genetic groups called ethnicities. i think some people think that. the same people who think theres a jewish world takeover conspiracy, or some other "white genocide" batshittery....

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i bet people used to be getting off to sphinxs like allllll the time. nice butt, titties out, lady face/lady mouth.

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fancy gentleman's list of lists colonel gentleman should have made

best cartoon iconography of hunter s thompson

1 venture bros' hunter gathers

2 doonesbury's uncle gonzo

best "the weird pulled-from-ffnet script" episodes

1 csi's fur and loathing

2 crossing jordan's vampire club ep

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inuyasha was a takahashified, non-solarpunk, dystopian pokemon story. trainer and sentient supernatural subordinate travel the land battling other supernaturals with different powers, collecting rewards toward a final goal  (shard/jewel vs badges/league). i mean ffs there, like, IS a pokemon that IS a demon dog. there are basically several demon dog pokemon. in either franchise.

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i don't think anyone is stupid. i think not everyone has access to information, for any of many reasons.

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i grew up in a relatively conservative very white patriarchal atmosphere, and later came across a relatively revolutionary, very multicultural patriarchal atmosphere. and in both i found fathers--and the women they picked close behind--abusing children, sexually emotionally and physically terrorizing kids. so you can maybe guess my general conclusion re shared maladative social features in ostensibly "opposite" political arenas that both rely on militarism within the family and community institutions, and both rely on direct interpersonel violence as acceptable means of behavioral reform, particularly, imposing roles of "natural leader" based on appearance (sex assignment in this case) rather than true character, and positioning leaders as disciplinaries of their "natural" subordinates, a perpetual move of abuse/reward conditioning across a pyramid scheme of power that is unnecessary in light of our ongoing  (and easily accelerated) paradigm shift toward unlimited resources. when resources are not variably distributed across space and between individuals, rank (access priorty) becomes maladaptive due to our innate perception of fairness.

and i don't think matriarchy is the answer. i think the answer is "don't artificially center a single manufactured category of person within society and tell them they must be submitted to when there is no longer any justifiable need for hierarchy other than superstition, because there's no need to divide unlimited resources according to rank anymore"

blue eyes experiment, zimbardo, abu ghraib

disproportionate authority will be misused and should probably not be the norm. like nuclear bombs, [karl pilkington voice] do we need it.

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i started every school year excited about what i'd learn and spent every school year angry at my learning environment. fortunately it interfered enough in my learning that i went roughly the expected speed through primary and secondary school. over a decade. adherence to the norm is what you're meant to learn

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i just want whatever or whomever kills me to know, a bitch is going full obi wan at that point so be warned

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the practical answer to what's up with lady sex moans is it causes your partner to focus on your experience because they can't even hear themself think. it usually distracts them from coming for however long you'd like, like...until you've come yourself enough. it's like edging if you do it right. also, if they're already habituated to it from porn they don't find it annoying.

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the advertising industry probably commissioned and maybe still commissions scientific research to prove its effectiveness--to make the case for rates, to clients. makes you think!

like i bet that shit is biased af and could be used to support different arguments than might be supported by like, publicly funded (hmmm...gov money...gov authorized) or privately funded...sociological research on the effectiveness of advertising. by which i mean maybe they hoist their own petard by proving they're brainwashers and passing the info around behind half closed doors. whether they're right or not ...damning admissions of guilt, no?

i think this can be applied to a lot of industries if you look sideways at the self justifications they externalize

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as britain was the birthplace of industrial capitalism it's fair to conflate white culture with capitalism as we know it. manufacturing took over the world in the wake of guns and boots imperialism. also white people btw.

so call it "white cultures self ideation as defiant of the natural world." human desires are marshalled against the entropy of the organic. rusting steel and all that.

so planned obsolescence is kind of a heheh natural heheh result of that attitude. artificial things, tools, are extensions of their makers, both in sisyphusian struggle against inevitable decay.

but that's not "how things are", that's just caveman talk.

accepting that things fall apart, statues crumble, etc is only necessary when you don't consider making things based on deeper knowledge of, and in harmony with, "nature" (god's creation) and natural cycles, rather than assuming they must be averted, avoided, whatever.

we live in a grand and self-regulating system but some of us will not let it teach them it's ways

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maybe no sexual person on earth is exclusively attracted to who they'll be rewarded by society for their attraction to. put another way, there are many sanctions on attraction and i suspect no one sexual would escape sanction if we couldn't obscure things from one another. but if that were the case why would we bother with sanctions, how could we arbitrate the appropriate boundaries--democratically? contextually definitely. we've been relying on collectively written advice blogs (holy texts) that are not relevant in our paradigm; the advice is moot in light of subsequent knowledge spread wrt medical inventions, successful family structure, the ways holy texts can be misconstrued and misapplied by charlatans, etc etc.