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#noxious grooms
noxious-grooms · 1 year
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Kris, 8 years old after he got himself turned into a werewolf and his best friend kidnapped:
“so something uh, not that chill happened last night.”
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kyliafanfiction · 1 year
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Padme didn’t just “lose the Will to Live” because Anakin fell.
She was witness to three years of horrible war, while she constantly and desperately tried to hold a government she loved and had dedicated her life to defending together, in the face of creeping autocracy and systems breakdown. She endured the stress of maintaining a secret relationship, hiding it from friends and family and all the people in her life.
She then not only saw the man she loved turn to fascism, but murder hundreds, thousands of people, including people she knew, and watched the Senate fucking applaud the death of liberty and the rise of the Empire - organized by a man who, whatever their political disagreements, had once been a treasured mentor and even probably a friend once.
She watched her life’s work burn, and then - and THEN her husband, the man she loved, not only turned on her, but tried to fucking choke her to death and nearly succeeded. THEN after all that, she gave birth in what appears to have been a particularly difficult birth (I can’t imagine nearly dying helped), and the compound psychological and physical stresses killed her.
It’s really not fucking hard. 
But no. It’s just ‘George Lucas is baffled by the Uterus’. Because it’s so much easier to say that than to engage your brain for five seconds.
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en-la-casademiamor · 5 months
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It was never my hand that turned the pages and so deciphering another's intent would grow tiresome.
All at once, I put it all down and forbade my soul to play soothsayer.
Eventually though, a retort in form of a revelation swooped in like a comet. Its
debris bearing fire is a spinning ring–I am its designated planet trying not to choke on noxious fumes.
I had been preordained, groomed really, to collect and carry the great wooden resentments and shattering iron ore turmoil of countless.
I don’t even know their names. I don’t think I even care.
I accept, I am resentful about all of it—and it is such an ugly thing to be this human.
This all feels like a dirty porcelain cup left out of place–left by all means, on purpose
to accumulate dust bunnies and fallen hair.
I was urged earlier in the week to leave this cup alone. Your house won’t care, I was told,
but my house is my body that hoards sensorial memories
and as the advice hung between the ears, my mind’s eye played Scorsese.
In time lapse, the filthy porcelain cup rotted and I forgot that it had even existed.
In layman terms, this was an afterword to a death that does not ever take your life. It is a death though that relishes in your fearing it, as if it could.
It was foretold to me, long ago that my mind would become slower than time
and that the grimey quicksand that I used to conceal my giving reason to where none exists, would one day,
be all gone.
I cannot pretend that I don’t see all the shipwrecks and carcasses. There are too many.
It is not yet February, but this morning I began a hunt while in the wilderness. All odds are against me, but I have urgency.
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chamerionwrites · 1 year
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Man it's such a personal pet peeve when people act like having an 87-step personal grooming regimen = hygiene. Like if you wash your face with gentle soap and water instead of slathering yourself in """"skincare products"""" or you just accept that your hair might get a little frizzy on a super humid day then you might as well go roll in raw sewage every morning. #1 Personally I have slightly sensitive skin so that's gonna be a nope from me, and #2 even if I didn't, I guarantee you that if anything bathing in a noxious cloud of lotion hairspray and perfume every day is probably the greater health and cleanliness issue
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evolutionsvoid · 2 years
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The Flatwoods Phantom is a nocturnal creature, floating through the darkened forest once the sun sets. While its other brethren are used to an aquatic lifestyle, this species has chosen a more terrestrial life. Despite this, they still hold many of the same behaviors, including movement. Though they are not submerged in water, a gas-filled mantle allows them to float through the air, still allowing them to "swim" like they used to. The undulation of its fins and the movements of its webbed tentacles help propel it through the air and keep it properly balanced. When speed is required, they lay their bodies parallel to the ground and use blasts of gas to shoot themselves through the forest. However, when startled or cornered, they go for intimidation, reorienting themselves to "stand tall." With their bodies pointed straight up and their chambers filled with gas, they can appear rather large and terrifying. Add to that the flashing of bioluminescent patterns, and it gives the impression of a tall cloaked figure. If this is not enough to scare away predators, they expel their gas in thick clouds (similar to the shooting of ink in other cephalopods). This gas is known for its horrid smell and irritating nature. People have described it as "blinding" and "stinging" as it gets into the eyes, nose and mouth. Combined with its foul odor, it tends to induce nausea and vomiting, giving the phantom plenty of time to escape. It comes out at night to feed, going after insects and small animals. They tend to keep their coloration dark, hiding in the night until they are close to prey. Once the time is right, their webbed tendrils open wide and trap the prey within. A tight grip and sharp beak makes short work of those caught in the shroud. When food hides in tighter spaces, they use two feeding tentacles to reach in and pull them out. Sharp hooks on the end are good for spearing, and if the prey remains locked in place, a quick blast of gas can force them to vacate. These same feeding tentacles are also used for grooming and anchoring if the weather gets rough. When the sun begins to rise, they retreat into hollow trees, their squishy bodies collapsing to let them slip into small holes and openings. There they shall wait until the night returns. Due to them occupying these empty trees, it is advised not to probe these cavities in fear of agitating a phantom (or any other resident). If threatened in this way, they will blast out more of their noxious gas, driving the intruders away.         ----------------------------------------------------------
“Flatwoods Phantom (Squid)”
I swear, sometimes I just got to do everything around here. People get to gabbing about the Flatwoods monster and what it is, and all that comes out is foolishness! It's an alien! A reptilian! A robot! An owl! Bah! Rubbish and nonsense! Has anyone bothered to truly use their brains? No, of course not, so it comes down to the expert to once again to clear things up! Obviously we are dealing with a nocturnal terrestrial squid who has filled their mantle cavity with a gas to help it float, the same gas they can expel to ward off foes! The rest is simple coloration and patterns to scare predators! There! See? Simple explanation to everything! At this rate you folks are going to be saying that the Fresno nightcrawlers aren't giant inchworms that use their highly arched backs to create a tall silhouette for intimidation! Har!
All jokes aside, I was originally going to put this in the ol' fantasy world, but I am not quite sure on adding alien-inspired beasts. I know it is a silly reason, but something just feels off about it. Not sure. May change my mind in the future.
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napkinscrawls · 1 year
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.Grooming/Personal care. .Hair braiding.
Platonic Zephyr/OC mention | 601 words | human oc | hair dying rituals | implications of eating dye(ghoul only)
Rain unsure abt dye, Dew is hungry. AO3
"I'm already bleached, so this is the easy bit, Rain." Eleanor reassures the new water ghoul, they are standing in the black tiled ghoul bathroom. Rain looking hesitant & Eleanor having traded her beanie for an old towel around her shoulders. Her calming words undercut by her hand having to fly out to the side & covering the top of the open pot of hair dye. Dewdrop's tongue slides back into his mouth slowly, the fire ghoul held it in both hands like a bowl of noxious soup he was raising to his lips. The Custos' eyes not leaving Rain, she guides the pot firmly back down to the sink counter.
"It's goop on a brush." Eleanor levels with a passive smile.
The water ghoul was reluctant, shifting on his feet as he thought it over. He winces at the thought of the chemicals. Rain was new to the mortal realm but he knew humans were fragile, Aether had reiterated it enough. "If it gets on your skin-"
"It'll wash out. Harmless on skin."
He looks over this human's hair, the once vibrant lilac turning to butter yellow at the roots. This is something important to her. He didn't know why but her smile had dimmed over the weeks.
"... & your eyes?"
She smiles. "Will be closed when you get to my fringe."
Rain makes a low clicking noise & huffs "This is weird." The smell of it was so complex. Hints of the pit mixed with foreign smells of artificial sharpness.
Eleanor appreciates his courage, really she does, he is still adjusting but Rain took time out to try something entirely human, & he here he is despite his clear discomfort.
Unluckily for Eleanor's plan to bond with the water ghoul there was someone impatient in the room with them.
"Just hand over the brush, Eulogy." Dewdrop snaps as he shoulders the human. A bravado he shrinks from when met with her sharpened glare. He changes tactics. "I can demonstrate."
The suggestion was sensible coming from anyone other than Dew. Eleanor says as much by giving him a suitably sceptical eyebrow raise.
Dewdrop had spent years watching Zephyr paint Eleanor's hair, the quiet bonding time between them, something that pulled Dewdrop in. It started when Mist had beaten him in yet another scrap & he just wanted to lick his wounds in private, only to find the bathroom lights on & door ajar. He slipped in & was greeted by the ever understanding eyes of Eleanor, more relaxed than he'd ever seen her, sat between the legs of the Air ghoul. Zephyr guided her head to the side as he coated her hair, sharing her space. They didn't ask, they didn't mock, & they didn't kick him out. So he sat, rubbed salves on his bruises & let the atmosphere seep in. Over repeated visits, each with a hasty excuse, Dewdrop had included himself in the ritual, & when he behaved they even let him lick the lid- well, Zephyr did. The air ghoul hid a smirk behind an angled jaw as he busied with washing the brush, & distracted their Custos.
Eleanor passes Dewdrop the brush, he grins, relishing in his newly recognised seniority. Turning to Rain he waggles the brush, "It'll be a piece of piss, Puddles."
Eleanor sighs, but sits on the stool. Rain in turn wraps his arms around his torso in comfort, not understanding the flicker in the woman's eyes before she pats his elbow. "Stop him from eating too much, please?"
Dew licks his lips as he picks the pot of dye up.
Rain has a growing sense he's ended up with a much harder job.
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thisischannelab3 · 23 days
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No one ever intends to become an addict but all it takes is that first sip of wine at dinner or a sampling of an illicit pharmaceutical at a party for an unlucky individual to start down a path of self-destruction. Drugs and alcohol aren’t the only thing that can prey on the weak willed or unlucky, shopping, food and gambling have all made people miserable at one time or another. Whole industries have sprung up to help men and women from all walks of life take back control of their lives. But Ethel’s addiction was an unusual one, there were no recognized treatments or easy explanations.
Ethel, you see, was addicted to popping pimples. It began with a YouTube video that her friends shared amongst themselves. A woman with a cyst on her back the size of an apple. It was the kind of video that was sent with the header of, “Can you watch all the way through?” or “Super Gross Out!”
The woman in the video, Ethel never saw her face or heard her name, was in what looked like a doctor’s office. Hands in latex gloves covered the oversized blemish with antiseptic and made sure plenty of gauze was nearby. Then a sharp scalpel came into view. It cut the skin and white-yellow fluid all but burst from the wound. It went everywhere some even landing on the camera filming the event. The person using the scalpel kept working, rolling the tip of the instrument around, coaxing more and more of the noxious-looking fluid out until all the flowed from the wound was blood.
Ethel was riveted, she watched the video dozens of times.
That YouTube video led to others, link after link of squeezing fingers and lancing instruments. The videos led her to Reddits and forums, to exclusive Facebook and Pinterest pages.
Watching kept her up late at night, sometimes she never went to bed at all.
She remembered being a teenager, the occasional breakouts and her mother cautioning her not to pick at her face. Compared to the other girls she had been lucky; there were some that had hidden their faces behind the books they were caring, who had endured insults like ‘Pizza Face’ and worse. Everyone said Ethel was one of the prettiest girls in class.
But she was thirty years old now, bored with work and marriage, The next time Ethel got a blemish, it was on her shoulder, she stared at it a long time. She had drawers of special skin care products for this kind of thing, but she decided that this time she would take matters into her own hands.
pop
It took barely any pressure at all, certainly less than she expected. And it was so much better experienced than watched; the discomfort, the sudden pressure, the release, and the lingering soreness. On some level she couldn’t understand she both heard and felt the blemish give way.
Then Ethel took to giving her husband Floyd back rubs. He certainly didn’t protest, that hour or so was probably the most time they’d spent together in months. His law practice kept him busy, maddeningly so at times.
When she found some ingrown hair or neglected pustule he would ask her to not pick at it and she wouldn’t listen. She was relentless, it didn’t matter how much he squealed or if she drew blood. To keep him from shying away she made sure that her grooming sessions ended with sexual intercourse.
To Ethel it was a perfectly mature understanding, Floyd got what he wanted and she got what she wanted.
It went on like that for a time, Ethel sating herself with videos until a bump or blackhead appeared on herself or her husband. Those were moments she savored like fine wine. She probably could have gone on like for the rest of her life but Floyd had other ideas. One night at dinner he told her that he was in love with a coworker and he was leaving.
Ethel had wondered why he’d pulled the old suitcase out of the attic days earlier but never thought to ask. She’d never suspected she needed to.
Soon enough she was living alone for the first time in her life, alone and inconsolable. She had friends and family close by but it wasn’t enough, she had a busy work schedule and that wasn’t enough. Finishing off one bottle of Chablis a week wasn’t enough.
Even the pimple popping videos weren’t enough.
So, Ethel changed her diet, eating more and more fast food, more and more chocolate. She read articles with skin care advice and did the opposite of their recommendations.  Then she waited.
The first few blemishes were small, little pinpricks of red that almost looked like freckles. Ethel worked at them eagerly having grown her nails out and bought a new makeup mirror for just this occasion.
pop
Tiny but exhilarating, the discharge they expelled was thick and solid; she could roll it around on her fingertips.
pop
When the next few pimples began to show she left them be, let them fatten up;  whiteheads grew, blackheads darkened. The whiteheads almost always went painlessly but spectacularly, marking the surface of her mirror with speckles of yellow, white and green. Sometimes she would keep the pressure on until she added a spattering of red to the mix.
The blackheads could be more challenging, sometimes resisting her attentions for hours at a time until they were nothing so much as swollen nubs of pain that felt far larger than they actually were. When the surface of one finally broke it would exclude a thin streamer of puss. She would watch in fascination as the little filament of exudate twisted along her finger and then squeeze harder and harder until something would give way and a rivulet of blood veined with yellow and white shot from the wound.
She would celebrate each of her victories of those blemishes with a glass of wine and a dab of Sea Breeze.
pop
Left cheek then right cheek, forehead then chin, she would let one part of her face fester and work at another. She learned how to cultivate razor bumps when she shaved her legs and was amazed at how resistant they could be but made them give up their secrets. All it took was a sewing needle and persistence.
Occasionally she filmed herself but it was never the same on playback, no matter how close she got to the camera. And Ethel never ever considered posting them, this was for her and her alone. She could imagine no experience more intimate.
Late at night when was lying in bed, half drunk with her face and legs stinging with astringent, she would wonder how much she had drained from her body this way, drop by drop, spurt by spurt. A pint? Maybe a gallon. She tried to imagine it, a an empty carton or milk jug overflowing with thick, putrefying liquid. She thought of the skin cells she shed every day and the mucus that gathered in her nose, of the mites that lived on her eyelashes and the bacteria that made their homes in her gut.
In the end was that all a person was? A festering wound? A host for infections?
pop
Ethel’s friends and relatives would try to broach the subject of her complexion with her, never directly though. They would ask if she was sick, if she had seen a doctor or what beauty products she was using. She would wave such concerns away and change the subject. What did they know about her and her interests? As she drifted from one party or family reunion to another she would see more and more pitying gazes thrown her way, Ethel accepted them with a grim amusement.
Sometimes she would see people staring at a particularly swollen blackhead or purposely neglected twin-headed pimple and see a flash of something familiar in their eyes. They wanted to get their fingers on those blemishes as much as she did, to feel the lump skin protest against the squeezing and then give way. She was never uncomfortable with these people. Let them stare, let them be jealous.
Other times she would see nothing but pure disgust in someone’s expression, someone with perfect skin and hair that judged her and saw her as somehow inferior. With those people Ethel wanted nothing more than to give a demonstration of her newly developed skills, to send an arc of pus sailing into their face with a single, simple gesture.
But she never did that, it would have been a waste.
pop
Then she had the accident.
It was a stupid thing really, Ethel had been driving back from the store when she’d become distracted by a previously unnoticed ingrown hair lurking just behind her earlobe. She knew better than to text and drive, or call and drive, she wasn’t even one to fiddle with the radio while in traffic but her attention kept returning to the blemish. One hand on the wheel she tried to get it to go by pinching it between the fingers of her free hand.
No luck. It was maddeningly resistant.
So, finally she gave in to temptation and used both hands to push at the ingrown hair. The pimple plopped open just as she clipped the front fender of the Nissan running the yellow light ahead of her.
She wasn’t in the wrong, that was obvious but the officers on the scene insisted on breathalyzer tests all around. They found Ethel’s blood alcohol level to be with the legal limit, but just barely.
It was all so embarrassing, and the Nissan’s driver only made things worse by suing anyone and everyone possible. They told a story that painted them as a victim of irresponsible drivers, poorly designed intersections and soft tissue damage.
Ethel was surprised when she saw her ex-husband Floyd among the attorneys involved in the deposition, she was even more surprised when he didn’t recognize her. When she finally approached him after the proceedings all his well trained lawyerly dispassion was gone in an instant. When he spoke his voice was loud enough that everyone in the room heard.
“What the Hell happened to you?”
Those words followed Ethel home from the courthouse. Every time she glimpsed herself in the rearview mirror or reflective surface she heard it again. “What the Hell happened to you?”
When she got home she cursed that there was no alcohol in the house but she had told herself she needed to cut down. The accident had been a close call and she had been frightened to realize later that she didn’t know how long it had been before her last drink and hitting the road that night.
But she would have loved a drink right then. She wanted her mind to be empty and spinning, she wanted her vision and senses blurred.
Once, not too long ago, he had looked upon her face with adoration, then, later on, resignation. In time Ethel had become used to both, but the expression of horror on his face. It had been too much to bear.
She cleaned off her makeup mirror and looked at herself, not the blemishes old and new, not the oily patches and deep, bruised-looking pockmarks. Ethel saw herself, saw the extent of her self mutilation.
Why had she done this? Why had she become so obsessed with act of whittling away at herself to the point that she had become unrecognizable to the man that had shared her bed for nine years? Remembering the tiny blooms of pleasure she had taken in the act suddenly left her feeling sick to her stomach.
Ethel ran her hands over her cheeks, they were ragged and eaten away, her forehead was a ruin of interconnected scars and her chin was a festering wound of pustules half gone to becoming cysts.
Someday, long from that moment, she would come to learn the terms Body-Focused Repetitive Behavior and Excoriation Disorder but that night, the night she wailed with self-disgust and self-realization and smashed her mirror, Ethel only knew that this it was more than she could take.
And after all, what was one more multilation at this point?
She hooked each of her hands into claws and brought them forward, and, after a deep breath to steel her courage, drove them deep into her eye sockets with all her might.
Then she pinched.
pop pop
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sarah9213 · 11 months
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Cleansing Milk
Your skin acts as a barrier to the outside world, its barrier function can easily be disrupted by noxious chemicals such as environmental pollutants, cumulative sun damage or even products that you apply to your skin for various purposes. A cleanser in your skincare routine will remove all grime we come into contact with in daily life.  It also improves your skin’s barrier function.
Cleansing milk is a gentle, effective and easy to use product that can be used for cleansing your face. It's usually one of the first steps in any skincare routine that ensures your skin is clean, healthy and free from impurities. The natural ingredients maintain  your skin’s natural oil balance. It also hydrates your skin to keep it healthy and glowing. It leaves moisturizing agents on your skin which improves symptoms of dryness. 
Here's a guide to how to use cleansing milk
Choose the Right Cleanser
When choosing a cleansing milk, consider your skin type and look for one made with natural ingredients such as cadamba, Neem, Aloe vera and cucumber.  You may want to choose a cleanser specifically designed for oily or combination skin if you have these types of skin. Try Ningen Cadamba Cleansing Milk.
Apply the Cleanser
Dispense a small amount of cleansing milk into your hands and apply it to dampened skin in circular motions. Make sure you cover all areas of the face, including around the nose and near the hairline. Gently massage it into your skin while avoiding getting it in your eyes.
Rinse off Thoroughly or cleanse it off with cotton pads
Once all makeup, dirt and sweat is removed from the surface of your skin, rinse off the cleanser with lukewarm water by splashing it on in sections until all traces are gone. Use a soft towel to gently dab at any remaining residue on your skin until completely gone. You can use cotton pads too.  
Follow Up With Toner, Serum and Moisturizer
After cleaning your face with cleansing milk, follow up with toner to remove any left behind residue or balance out pH levels before moisturizing or applying treatments like serums or creams.
What is a milk cleanser?
It is an excellent supplement to your skincare habit, be it morning grooming or night time routine. A milk cleanser is created in a manner that it will not only eliminate the natural oil balance on the surface of your skin. It purifies your skin but also restores it through natural ingredients within it thereby keeping your skin hydrated and nourished all day. It can similarly be used to remove makeup or cosmetic residue from your face.
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Benefits of Cleansing Milk
Cleans, Hydrates and Nourishes your Skin
Cleansing milk especially with the goodness of Cadamba hydrates and thaws all types of skin. Moreover, it also keeps the natural oil of your face intact as it has oil formula and consistency of a lotion.
Anti-aging Effects
It keeps your skin youthful and flawless while delaying the early signs of aging. As you clean your face with cleansing milk everyday it remains protected from impurities and flaws for a longer time.
Removes Make-up and Sunscreen
Cadamba Cleansing milk perfectly removes every iota of makeup and dirt from your skin so that not only you but your skin also breathes and relaxes overnight.
Exfoliates your Skin
Cleansing milks work effectively as an exfoliator as it removes dead skin cells from your face. It gives you radiance and glow.
Soothing Effects
Cleansing milk is free from harsh chemicals and soaps which might irritate your skin. It is suitable for sensitive, dry and oily skin as it is usually made from natural ingredients.
Alternative to soaps 
Cleansing milk is generally gentler, less drying, and more moisturizing than regular soap. It also can be less irritating because it does not contain ingredients that may aggravate skin, such as fragrances or preservatives. Cleansing milk can help remove makeup and dirt from the face while maintaining your skin's natural oils and moisture levels, leaving your skin feeling softer and smoother. 
Checkout Ningen Sunflower De-tan cleansing Milk with benefits of sunflower, neem, Gotu kola extract and Ningen Cadamba Cleansing Milk with nourishing ingredients such as Aloe vera, cucumber, cadamba which nourishes your skin deep within.  The products are suitable for all skin types, contain natural ingredients and are free from harmful chemicals. 
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noxious-grooms · 1 year
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🎸 [WELCOME TO THE SHOW! Security are here to help if you need it. HAVE A GREAT NIGHT!] 🎤
“ Hello, Writeblr City! How are we feeling tonight? ”
Welcome to my blog! Here you’ll find my posts and self-indulgent ravings pertaining to my original story (but mainly its main characters) and any headcanons or AUs or whatever my heart may desire at any given time! This could range from things like incorrect quotes to prompt-inspired flash fiction, to characters answering QnAs sent by y’all, and more!
Without further ado, here’s my intro post containing the info about the basics of my story’s world and its main characters!
~ 🌖 ~
Setting and World Information
Setting
Fictional towns Abel and Mietta, Kentucky, 2005
Key World Information:
🐺Werewolves: Centuries ago, a peaceful witch village was under attack by an angry mob of townsfolk from surrounding villages. The most respected and knowledgeable witch in the village thought fast and gathered as many of their most powerful ritual ingredients and fled nearby into the woods which hugged the small beloved town. There, the witch spotted a wolf and took it as a miracle sent from the deities. The witch killed the wolf and used its blood to create the sigil for the sacrificial ritual to the moon deity: the witch sacrifices their humanity, in return for the strength to protect their village and save their family and friends. But a group of the raiders interrupted the ritual, corrupting the spell. The witch became a mindless, yet ferociously powerful wolf-beast, and although they were able to drive back the raiders, they could not stop from turning on the people they sacrificed themself to protect. Those that survived their attack also became a wolf-beast, and this vicious cycle continued for countless bite-generations until, gradually, the wolf-people gained the ability to shift back to their human form, and then to retain their consciousness in wolf form. In the present day, the few remaining wolf-people—now chiefly referred to as werewolves—are only forced to shift every full moon, but with practice are able to shift whenever they wish, even during the day after further dedication.
🔪Hunters: Emerging instantly behind the arrival of werewolves, the hunting scene started out as diverse and nuanced as the victims of the wolf-beast curse themselves. But even after the “virus” became less severe, less of a death sentence, the hunters did not slow down their crusade to eliminate every last one of them and ensure the safety of their lineages, and mankind as a whole. Throughout the centuries the mission mutated from “defending my family from the carnage of these once-human, mindless beasts” to “expunging any remnants of these abominations from the world at all costs”. Lifetimes have passed, marking multiple generations of hunting families who have never known life before the ‘wolves, before the once-innocent and noble sworn oath of vengeance, yet whose lineage still bears the scar of the initial blight of hatred wrought that heinous day.
🌎Society: Initially, word spread fast across countless communities and cultures telling of the existence of the ferocious man-wolves, but as the beast’s population began to dwindle after the hunters were able to gain an edge on them, these tales took on a legacy of exaggeration and fantasy, replacing their original air of truth. As hunters would increasingly fall out of the hunting scene once they considered the monster’s population “safe” enough, eventually the children of the next generations would start to be spared from the knowledge that there once proliferated—and still exists—a breed of man-beasts which, if you were unlucky enough, you could very easily find yourself among the ranks of. Bringing us to the present-day, wherein the only ones left in society who still believe in the man-wolf are those who fight against them, or live as one of them.
Characters
🎤🐺🎸
{ Kris Hanson }
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Status: Main Character
Role: Lead singer and guitarist. Songwriter. Band founder.
Age: 20
Birthday: 2/18/1985
Interests: Introspection, quality-over-quantity of friendships/relationships
Non-band hobbies: Practicing his guitar; writing songs [music’s his main escape lol]; hanging with his friends (i.e. his bandmates) ((i.e. mostly Marley)) so he’s not alone except for a few particular days a month; reading (mainly rags-to-riches and “underdog” stories)
Personality: ISFJ — Polite and respectful on impulse to almost anyone he meets. May come across as awkward sometimes, but nothing he can’t recover from (or that Marley can’t help him recover from). Knows what he wants but hesitant to try and achieve it. Whenever a plan or promise he makes falls through, he always seems to have a perfectly sound and reasonable excuse why every time…
Physical Traits: Half Native/Indigenous; shoulder-length black wavy wolf cut; dark brown, almost black, eyes; stud piercings above and below his left eyebrow; septum piercing; two lip rings on the left side of his mouth; stainless steel stud earrings; bite scar around his left shin
Fun Fact: Kris owns just one now-11-year-old guitar that he received as a Christmas present from his dad in 1994 (an idea of what it looks like nowadays, in his moodboard!). [Not-so-fun fact: he plays louder the more tense he gets, for one reason or another :)]
🥁🐾🏍️
{ Marley Beckett }
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Status: Confidant (supporting secondary character)
Role: Drummer. Kris’s closest friend.
Age: 20
Birthday: 3/18/1985
Interests: Animals; mindfulness/self-reflection; meeting and making new friends
Non-band hobbies: Riding his motorcycle; camping; meditation; thrifting jewelry; donating to non-profits (particularly animal shelters); going on nature walks (but isn’t opposed to a day/night out on the town with his friends)
Personality: ENFP — Ray of sunshine, outside and in. Inherently treats everyone (be they human or animal) with love and compassion and understanding (unless he’s given reason to act otherwise [this does not apply to animals]). Wise, adventurous, and always there to be a shoulder to lean on. Although optimistic, he’s a realist, and, as much as it may pain him to accept a hard-to-swallow truth, he refuses to remain blinded by naïveté or denial.
Physical Traits: Long wavy-curly blond hair in a mullet; medium brown eyes; wears chunky silver rings; silver studded earrings (he’s debating upgrading to gauges); has industrial rod piercings [look up pics, they’re cool]; headband across forehead (mostly during shows & practices)
Fun Fact: Whenever he has the chance during a concert, he’ll give a shoutout to his favorite local pet shelter and encourage the audience to “adopt don’t shop, dudes!!”. [BONUS FACT: in addition to the drums, he also plays the ukulele :)]
🎸📷🌳
{ Adam “Fletch” Fletcher }
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Status: Deuteragonist (secondary character)
Role: Rhythm guitarist. Arranger of Kris’s (the band’s) songs.
Age: 21
Birthday: 8/24/1984
Interests: Self-achievements, making something of/for himself; organizing and being in charge of things
Non-band hobbies: Skateboarding; photography; camping; hiking; learning and practicing music theory and composition
Personality: INTJ — Tends to have a matter-of-fact disposition, getting down to the business of a conversation whenever applicable. Nice to everyone’s faces, but sometimes you get the vibe that he has other things that he’d rather be doing or focusing on. Sees and respects the talents in everybody, even if they might not see it in themselves. His compulsivity is to problem-solve, even when there may be no merit to “solving” a situation. Not unlikely to prioritize his goals and perceived needs over others’ if he deems them important enough.
Physical Traits: Mix of sandy and dark blond hair of medium length in a wispy fringe; medium brown eyes; almost always wears a watch; simplistic tattoo of a camera on his left inner forearm
Fun Fact: He lost a bet when he was 16 and had to sleep in a dog kennel for a whole night. He did it.
🎹💃🎸
{ Carmen Ried }
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Status: Deuteragonist (secondary character)
Role: Keyboardist and Bassist
Age: 19
Birthday: 4/6/1986 (skipped pre-k, is a year ahead)
Interests: Free self-expression;
Non-band hobbies: sewing and customizing (patches, stitching, painting, etc.) his own clothes; trying new makeup looks; thrifting for anything and everything wardrobe-related;
Personality: ENFJ — Bubbly and a total free-spirit, but suffers behind closed doors when his accrued negative thoughts and feelings catch up with him. But resident cheaper-than-a-therapist resource Marley always has his back and is more than ready to remind Carmen of his awesome attributes, even when Carmen may not believe it sometimes.
Physical Traits: Dark brown curly mid-length hair; light yellowy-brown eyes; overall lanky build; painted nails (more often than not); nose ring, painted with nail polish in whatever color he feels like that day (occasionally)
Fun Fact: He sews, thrifts, and/or customizes almost all of his clothes and accessories!
👪🐺👿
{ Brendon Bosman }
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Status: Main Antagonist (formerly Kris’s closest childhood friend)
Role: Return into Kris’s life spontaneously, Cause rifts between the band members
Age: 20 (or 21 depending on what month I start the story)
Birthday: 11/13/1984
Interests: Mindfulness/self-reflection (oh? is this a repeat?); werewolf advocacy; [REDACTED]
Personality: ESTP — Moderately socially anxious with strangers/new people, and socially awkward most of the time because of this. If someone strikes up conversation with him, he’ll seem distantly timid and only say as much as he needs to. But if someone speaks negatively of something he feels passionate about, he’s sure to let them know all his thoughts then. “Underground” outspoken protester of werewolf hunting and mistreatment. He has a strong moral compass…except for when he believes sacrifices are necessary to achieve a higher good.
Physical Traits: Short dark brown hair; deceptively short despite his muscular build (5’ 6”); hooded eyes (omg we’re twinning); bite scar around his right shin; various miscellaneous scarring all over his body
Fun Fact: He’s never had a cold, but he has had malaria.
~ 🌔 ~
Well, congrats and thank you for reading until (or skipping to) the end!
I hope you’ll follow along and see how I grow and evolve these characters and my story! You’re able to ‘interact’ with them by sending asks (“Band QnA”) about the characters, or about my writing process and stuff like that in general! Also feel free to send me prompt or quote ideas for writing mini-scenes with these guys for y’all!
P.S.: The entire story isn’t fully planned out yet, and another reason this blog exists is for me to play around with the story’s characters, settings, world laws, etc., so just an FYI in case contradictory information/lore finds its way here.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
FACECLAIM IMAGE CREDITS
-Kris: Stratton James (facebook) / Matty Healy (The 1975) / Metallica
-Marley: George Culafic (model) / Dave Mustaine (Metallica/Megadeth)
-Adam: Charlie Simpson (Busted) / Brad Simpson (The Vamps)
-Carmen: @\danielmillar_ (instagram) / @\heir.of.Atticus (instagram)
-Brendon: Josh Hartnett
< 99% of these were sourced from pinterest! >
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March In!
“No occupation is so delightful to me as the culture of the earth, and no culture comparable to that of the garden.’ — Thomas Jefferson”
Throw open your windows! Inhale the sweet smells of the blossoms. Bradford pears, cherry plums, crabapple, peach, and tulip magnolias are in full bloom.
Flocks of doves have begun their annual aerial acrobats, raptors are kettling in the warmer thermals, cows are happily grazing on the green grass, and bees are buzzing and pollinating.
The hills are emerald, the creeks are flowing, and sunny daffodils brighten our roadways. Spring is in the air!
As excited as I am to start sowing summer veggies, it is still too early. March is a month to peruse catalogs and groom our beds as nature’s winter slumber awakens. This is a month of garden transition with unpredictable weather, chilly mornings, warm afternoons, and frosty nights. Additional rain is necessary and anticipated.
With preparation and care, we can give our gardens a boost for spring by cleaning our garden beds. Remove dead leaves, branches, and debris that have accumulated over winter. By doing so we’ll prevent pests and diseases from invading while making our gardens tidier and ready for planting in April and May.
It seems that overnight my garden burst into bloom. The Amaryllis that I’ve been carefully tending opened its eyes to my delight.
Bright pink Bergenia is bigger and fuller this year and even the yellow shamrocks are already on display, pre-St. Patrick’s Day. Many gardeners find oxalis to be a noxious weed, but I welcome it in my landscape. It covers the barren soil with electric yellow flowers and delicate clover-like leaves. I find it very pretty, and I’ve been growing it for several years without it invading unwanted locations.
Purple bearded iris don’t last long in bouquets, yet they are stunning and fragrant in the garden. Poor man’s saffron, more commonly known as calendula, has self-seeded on my hillside in blooms of orange and yellow. Red, pink, and white cyclamen are stretching their buds between the ferns while azaleas transform the garden from dull to dazzling.
Winter is waning. The garden is marching on.
THE GODDESS GARDENER’S MARCH GARDENING GUIDE
AMEND your soil with compost to add the nutrients necessary.
MAKE compost by combining green (nitrogen) and brown (carbon) materials. To a bucket, bin, or pile, add coffee grinds, tea bags, chicken and rabbit droppings, grass clippings, vegetable scraps, straw, leaves, shredded newspaper, hay, dead plants, cardboard, and paper. Keep moist and turn. Do not use the animal waste from any carnivorous animals, including dogs and cats, and do not add diseased plants to the bin or pile.
CHECK irrigation systems. Repair leaks, clogs, and broken sprinkler heads.
START seeds indoors if you want a head start on growing your favorite vegetables. You will have to harden them off before planting in the garden.
FORAGE for wild greens including Miner’s lettuce, mustard, creek watercress, and wild strawberries. The young leaves are delicious in salads and sautées.
ORDER tubers and root starters from Renees Garden for the best selection of horseradish, potatoes, onions, and asparagus for spring planting.
FERTILIZE trees, shrubs, and ground covers with organic feed.
APPLY snail bait around plants most susceptible to snail and slug damage or handpick the mollusks.
SPRAY roses, boxwoods, viburnum, iris, fruit trees, citrus trees, and crape myrtle trees with dormant oil to protect them from overwintering insects and fungal disease.
HARVEST lemons, limes, and oranges. The extra vitamin C will boost your immunity during this cold and flu season.
SHARPEN and clean tools.
AERATE lawns while the nights are still cool. Leave the plugs on the grass to feed the grass.
PULL weeds as they sprout.
CUT bouquets of daffodils, narcissus, viburnum, flowering quince, and Bergenia to brighten any room.
DIVIDE perennials including daylilies, agapanthus, yarrow, and phlox while they are semi-dormant.
FLOAT camellias in a pretty bowl and dispose of all fallen camellias from bushes.
KILL aphids with a strong spray of water or spray with a mixture of water and dishwashing detergent. Make sure to spray all sides of foliage and flowers.
LEARN what to do in your garden every month with the book, Growing with the Goddess Gardener, available at http://starstylestore.net
PLANT bare root roses, vines, and berry bushes.
PRUNE a branch of peach, plum, or pear and place the cutting in a tall vase to force the blooms for an enticing indoor arrangement.
Happy Gardening. Happy Growing. March in. March on.
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Read more: https://www.lamorindaweekly.com/archive/issue1701/Digging-Deep-with-Goddess-Gardener-Cynthia-Brian-March-In.html
Press Pass: https://blog.voiceamerica.com/2023/03/02/march-on/
Raised in the vineyards of Napa County, Cynthia Brian is a New York Times best-selling author, actor, radio personality, speaker, media and writing coach as well as the Founder and Executive Director of Be the Star You Are!® 501 c3. Tune into Cynthia’s StarStyle® Radio Broadcast at www.StarStyleRadio.com.
Her newest children’s picture book, No Barnyard Bullies, from the series, Stella Bella’s Barnyard Adventures is available now at www.cynthiabrian.com/online-store  
For an invitation to hang out with Cynthia for fun virtual events, activities, conversations, and exclusive experiences, buy StarStyle® NFTs at https://StarStyleCommunity.com
 Hire Cynthia for writing projects, garden consults, and inspirational lectures. [email protected]  http://www.GoddessGardener.com
©Photos and Text 2023 Cynthia Brian. All rights reserved.
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The Reasons Why You Should Invest In Artificial Grass For Pets
Pet owners are increasingly interested in artificial turf installation. A growing number of dog parks and daycare centers are replacing traditional lawns with pet turf installations. Look at some of the most frequently asked questions about artificial grass for pets below -
Is Synthetic Grass Harmless To Pets?
Artificial turf is completely safe for pets. Fake grass for pets is much more durable than traditional lawns because it can withstand the wear and tear caused by the dog's claws, paws, or nails. Because pets cannot dig through artificial turf, many professional dog boarding facilities and pet owners prefer synthetic grass for dogs to traditional grass.
Is There Anything In Artificial Turf That Is Harmful To Pets?
Pet turf installation is an excellent way to provide a safe environment for pets while also protecting them from harmful lawn chemicals. Unlike natural grass, synthetic grass does not allow weeds to grow. As a result, fertilizers, herbicides, and other weed-killing chemicals are no longer required. For over a decade, we've been the North Texas leader in synthetic turf, and nothing speaks louder than the words of our many satisfied customers. You can put your lawn in the hands of Lone Star Synthetic Turf.
Is It Okay For Pets To Pee And Poop On Synthetic Grass?
Yes, pets can not only roll around and play, but they can also urinate on artificial grass. Synthetic turf, on the other hand, does not absorb or break down all of the components of dog waste. The surface has a porous backing that allows pet urine to seep through and drain away, but pet poop will need to be cleaned and scooped manually, just like any organic lawn maintenance. After storing the feces, flush out the remnants to remove any lingering odors or mess.
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Is Dog Pee Harmful To Fake Grass?
Unlike natural grass, synthetic grass will not wither and die if a pet pees on it. To keep any lingering odor at bay, hose down the area on a regular basis. Another option is to install dog-friendly designated poop patches, allowing you to lift a small section of fake grass and thoroughly clean it. These features of artificial grass for pets installation allow for maximum absorption and drainage.
Can Fleas And Ticks Live On Synthetic Grass?
It is difficult to completely eliminate pests such as fleas and ticks. These parasites cannot live inside the grass blades of synthetic grass. However, it cannot guarantee complete eradication. Although there is no soil to support their nesting, the accumulation of debris and leaves can create a breeding environment. You can greatly reduce the chances of fleas and ticks by keeping your artificial lawn clean.
How Do You Keep Dog Artificial Turf In Good Condition?
Hose down the area at least once a week to keep odors and bad odors at bay. Scoop up the feces and dispose of them in a dustbin, just as you would in a natural yard. A high-pressure hose will assist you in keeping your pet's favorite spot clean. Hosing down the lawn is all that is required to keep your pets' artificial turf clean and healthy.
How Do You Remove Pet Pee Odor From Fake Grass?
Pet owners will agree that finding your pet peeing in the same spot every day is not uncommon. Even after hosing down the pet turf, you may notice a lingering odor. It's simple to get rid of that noxious odor. Make an equal parts water and vinegar solution. To get rid of any lingering odors, spray the area with this natural mixture and let it dry.
Is Synthetic Turf Long-Lasting And Durable?
Artificial turf has been scientifically designed to withstand the test of time. Synthetic grass has a lifespan of over 20 years. Synthetic grass can withstand your pets and children trampling on it. You don't have to worry about pet wear and tear with synthetic grass. Even after years of exposure to the elements, the pet turf will remain fluffy and vibrant. What's more, unlike traditional grass, it doesn't require constant grooming and mowing. Based on your geographic area and the intended use of the turf, your landscape designer or artificial turf for playground installation company can assist you in calculating the expected life span of synthetic turf.
How Expensive Is Synthetic Grass?
There is an initial cost for artificial turf. However, with all of the cost savings in water and maintenance, it becomes nearly free over time.
What Can I Place Under Fake Grass For My Dogs?
For pets, you can add a layer of infill beneath artificial turf. Select an infill material from crumb rubber, sand, or silica granules. Most pet owners would rather spend a little more money on silica granules to pamper their furry friends. While pets may enjoy roughhousing on outdoor turfs, our special synthetic grass provides the ideal balance of aesthetic appeal, comfort, durability, and resilience, making it an excellent playground for all of your family members and beloved pets. The uses of artificial turf are increasing day by day. Not only the artificial grass rooftop, playground, pets etc but also golfers are liking artificial turf nowadays. One of the reasons that some golfers prefer artificial golf turf is that it improves performance. Synthetic grasses are designed to have the texture of natural grass. We have the most diverse selection of artificial grass for pets on the market today. Synthetic grass technology is constantly evolving, and Lone Star Synthetic Turf is at the forefront of this advancement.
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fierypen37 · 2 years
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First Blood
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First Blood
 Winterfell hadn’t changed much in the fifty-some years since Daenerys had set foot there. Maybe some cosmetic changes in technology, the vehicles, the buildings—but the people were the same. Stubborn, at times backwards, and gallant to fault. The weather was what she liked best. Winter never really loosened her grip on the North. Even in summer, there were occasional snows. Overcast on most days. Perfect. Daenerys tired of whiling away daytime hours indoors.
Here there was fresh, clean air. Wind rustling through the trees. One of the few places where true wilderness remained. Daenerys had been running through the night for almost a week since she’d landed at Eastwatch and hadn’t encountered a single soul. As such, she was lonely. As such, she was thirsty. It ached in the back of her throat. Made her restless, irritable. In the over three hundred years since she’d been turned, this was the part she loathed. Her thirst meant violence, or at the very least compulsion. As primally thrilling as it was to bring the full brunt of her skills and strengths to bear, her soul had never become callous to the violence. Missandei’s mate Grey often teased her about it, in his usual laconic good-natured manner. Finding prey would be simple. But first she needed to make herself presentable.  
Perhaps it had been childish to run across the continent, but it scratched some wild itch to chase after the waxing moon. To feel the rush of air on her skin, her bare feet barely touching the ground. It made her feel woven into the fabric of nature instead of torn from its weft and warp. Daenerys slowed to a human’s pace outside a chain of stores. Florescent lights were eye-wateringly harsh, and the salty smell of humanity sharply painful, but Daenerys endured it. Another of the modern era’s conveniences, a square of plastic linking her to over a century’s worth of wealth.
In no time at all, she was groomed and dressed in a fashionable dress. Like most things, style was cyclical. This scarlet dress reminded her of those popular in the 60’s. Flowing with a beaded hem, complimented by black leggings and black ankle boots. Black and red, Targaryen colors. Strange how people of this day accepted dragonriders and wargs as part of their history, but scoff at anything else beyond the natural. Safety could be found in ignorance, she supposed. If the world knew about vampires, then some morbidly curious scientist would experiment on them. Monster-hunters would slay them.
“Anonymity is better,” Daenerys concluded aloud. She scrutinized her appearance in the mirror. The features were unchanged in the centuries of her undead existence. Nothing to give away what she was until thirst or strong emotion made her fangs extend. Dissatisfied, Daenerys deftly braided a couple strands and tied them at the back of her head. In a nostalgic mood, I suppose. The throwback dress, the braids—a reminder of her first husband, Drogo. By habit, Daenerys sought the fringes of town. Casting out her senses, she heard sound of boisterous male laughter, the drone of television, the sharp whiff of alcohol. A bar. Perfect.
The Night’s Watch—amusing. The defunct protectorate who guarded the Wall had become a part of northern folklore. This bar would be a simple place for lorry drivers, alcoholics, and locals. They had come for a drink, and so had she. A bell tinkled as she shoved open the door. A U-shaped bar dominated the center space, ringed by stools. Booths against the walls. Polished paneling and wood flooring. Rustic iron light fixtures. Televisions played the latest rugby game on a low volume. At the far end were pool tables and a dartboard where a loud group of friends shared a game. No cigarette smoke, for which she was grateful. With the acuity of her senses, it grew noxious.
“Be with you in a moment,” a low voice said, rich with a northern accent.
Daenerys took her seat on one of the barstools. The bar was immaculately clean. None of the usual gummy stickiness in such places. The pickings for her meal were slim. There was the group of young men. Little chance she could separate one without talk. Perhaps I should have chosen a larger city. Farther south where there are more people. The only other people in the bar were a mother and daughter—the girl looked about ten years old—sharing a plate of fries. Habit and manners dictated Daenerys feed on men—usually. If she could avoid it, she did not kill them. Finding someone healthy and discreet was difficult.
A young man appeared from the swinging metal door from the back, carrying what looked to be a heavy crate of bottles. The black t-shirt did little to hide the breadth of his chest or the corded strength of his arms. He set them down and approached where she sat. The smell of him was salty and musky, exuding youth and masculinity.
“What can I get you?” he asked. Perhaps it was her thirst, perhaps it was loneliness, perhaps it was the hand of the gods, but inwardly Daenerys trembled like a struck tuning fork. Handsome and fit, gleaming with the sweat of exertion he looked . . . delectable. The color of his eyes too, was unusual. A stormy grey. In an unforgivable number of seconds, she mastered her ogling. Daenerys licked her dry lips.
“W—White wine, please,” she said.
“Arbor gold?”
“Yes.”
“Comin’ up,” he said.
Daenerys watched him pluck a glass from the racks behind him, uncork the bottle and pour. With him focused on a task, she was free of study him. Curling black hair tied severely back, a neatly trimmed beard. Thick dark brows, with a line carved between them even when relaxed. A face prone to scowling, then. What did he have to scowl about, as comely as he was? With easy grace, he set the glass on a black napkin.
“Enjoy,” he said, then returned to his work. In this life and the one before it, Daenerys had always commanded male attention. To be dismissed so quickly smarted. Daenerys sipped the wine. It was delicious: cold, crisp, sweet. Daenerys pretended to peer at her smartphone while she watched him. One of the young men at the pool tables wended his way to the bar, his gait a bit unsteady. He was reasonably attractive. Tall, thin, blue eyes, black hair.
“Another pitcher, Snow,” he said.
“You and the lads have had enough, Theon,” the young man—Snow—said in that calm, stern voice.
“Come on. One more! It’s Maron’s last night as free man,” Theon wheedled.
“He’s getting married, not shipping off for war,” Snow said dryly.
“Still! Come on! We’re getting a rideshare home. One more!”
“I keep your keys if you get another. You can come get ‘em in the morning.”
“Deal!” Theon promised. Daenerys’ mouth flattened. A bachelor party? There was no way she could make a meal of one of them. She finished the last of her wine. It wouldn’t appease her thirst, but the taste was pleasant. She best continue her search for a meal elsewhere. She tossed cash on the immaculate counter and slipped back into the night.
 “In a couple minutes, you’ll set down the bottle and walk back to where you’re staying,” Daenerys said, a command to an enthralled victim. Hypnosis was one of the little mercies of her existence. Most of her meals never felt any aftereffects from a feeding other than soreness where bitten. The drunk was a lucky find. A lorry driver off his shift, wandering in this stretch of woods between the Night’s Watch and the car park. The command was wordy, but specificity was crucial. If she had said ‘go home,’ then if the man lived a thousand miles away in the Reach district, he would walk until he made it there.
“In a couple minutes, I’ll set down the bottle and walk back to where I am staying,” he repeated, the words slurred. Daenerys took his right wrist, saliva filling her mouth at the prospect of relief. Her fangs lengthened. She bit in, the warm skin giving way like wet tissue paper, and at last tasting the warm metallic taste of blood. The man grunted, but didn’t resist, still caught in her thrall. She drank slowly, savoring it. Drinking in the heat and life from his artery. The neck vessels were larger, but more painful and more obvious. Daenerys’ favorite was the juicy one near the collarbone. Daenerys listened to the steady thud of his heartbeat. It was a delicate balance perfected over the last centuries, to drink without draining, to satiate without killing. Few of her kind bothered. Humankind was for amusement and food, that was all.
With her senses, she could hear the valves of his heart closing and opening, she could feel minute changes in volume pumped out with each beat. She gulped, feeling the last of her thirst ease. That’s enough. No worse than donating blood at the blood bank.  
Daenerys dabbed her mouth with the black napkin from the Night’s Watch. Not a wasted drop. She patted the man’s head. It was so strange when she drew a victim in. She could feel them in a sense. Stephen. His mother was ill with a chronic heart condition. He never saw his kids. Lonely and depressed, he drank on his time off, slipping into an inebriated muddle in front of the television. Alcohol soured the taste of the blood, but Daenerys couldn’t be picky.
“Sleep well, Stephen.”
The attractive Snow remained stuck in the forefront of her thoughts. It was damned annoying. When you lived long, things such as physical attractiveness seemed so banal. And yet . . . and yet he lingered.
“I’ll go back,” she resolved. Go back to the bar. This Snow would leer at her, or say something rude, and she could thusly dismiss him as a typical specimen of his species. Maybe then she could rest without him pestering her. Daenerys unleashed her speed, flying through the woods in seconds. An unusual scent reached nose, and she pulled up. Daenerys keen eyes raked the forest. Wolf. Not just any wolf, but a descendant of ancient direwolves. White as snow with garnet red eyes. Like a wierwood tree. In a breath, Daenerys felt as if she was three hundred years younger, watching a direwolf tearing out a man’s throat in her defense. Those red eyes watched her. Calm and curious, one predator to another.
“Ghost! Ghost, to me!” Snow called.  The wolf’s aloof stillness evaporated into a grinning, wagging pup loping back into the clearing on the Night’s Watch.
“There you are! You big fluffy goof,” Snow’s gruff voice was rich with affection. A needle of longing pierced her. A companion. There had been no one since Daario. Lovers were more trouble than they were worth—vampire or mortal. Daenerys watched the man and his gorgeous dog disappear around the corner.
“Damn it,” she whispered. She was intrigued.
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sistervirtue · 2 years
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a lot of ppl are asking "well theyre not hurting anybody" on that post and like
1) am i not allowed to be annoyed? to care about the integrity of art? is a man not allowed to talk about things that bother him? why do you hate gay people
2) fandom culture has a noxious history of promoting bigotry as noted in this piece and grooming. when you are encouraged to not think about the meaning of your actions and words, or the actions and words of others, you may end up being complacent in turning a blind eye to abuses. this is a documented phenomenon by anyone who grew up on the internet
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sciencespies · 3 years
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Octopuses not only feel pain physically, but emotionally too, first study finds
https://sciencespies.com/nature/octopuses-not-only-feel-pain-physically-but-emotionally-too-first-study-finds/
Octopuses not only feel pain physically, but emotionally too, first study finds
An important new study suggests octopuses are likely to feel and respond to pain in a similar way to mammals – the first strong evidence for this capacity in any invertebrate. 
The experience of pain is far more than a simple reflex to harmful stimuli or injury; it’s a complex emotional state, leading to distress or suffering.
While vertebrates are generally thought to experience both the physical and emotional aspects of pain, it remains unresolved whether or not invertebrates, which generally have much simpler nervous systems, are capable of something similar.
Octopuses are the most neurologically complex invertebrates on Earth, and yet surprisingly few experiments have focused on their potential for experiencing pain.
Neurobiologist Robyn Crook from San Francisco State University has been investigating this issue for years, and the latest work from her lab has now used the same protocols for testing pain in laboratory rodents on cephalopods – specifically, the octopus.
Using detailed measurements of spontaneous pain-associated behaviors and neural activity, Crook has identified three lines of evidence that all indicate octopuses are capable of feeling negative emotional states when confronted with pain. 
These are the same characteristics that mammals show, despite the fact that the octopus nervous system is organized in a fundamentally different way to vertebrates.
Of course, it’s really difficult for scientists to interpret a subjective feeling or emotional state in an animal – especially one so different from us – but Crook argues the behavior shown by octopuses in these experiments suggests they are probably experiencing the physical and emotional components of pain in a way not so different to rodents, including lasting in changes in their affective state (what we would call, in humans, our mood, feelings and attitudes).
“Even in the absence of proof on conscious awareness or sentience in cephalopods, it remains clear that the responses demonstrated by octopuses in this study are so similar to those that would be expressed by mammals experiencing pain, that a reasonable, cautionary argument can be made that internal state of these disparate species is likely also similar,” Crook concludes.
Previous studies by Crook and others have shown octopuses can reflexively respond to noxious stimuli, learning to avoid those harmful contexts. The new research goes several steps further. After a single training session in a three-chambered box, octopuses that received an injection of acetic acid into one arm showed clear avoidance of the chamber in which they received that shot.
Those injected with non-harmful saline, on the other hand, showed no such avoidance.
Furthermore, when the octopuses that had been given a painful injection were then administered lidocaine (an analgesic), they tended to prefer the chamber in which they experienced immediate pain relief. Those that received saline only couldn’t care less about the chamber where they had analgesic applied.
This preference for place, free from harm, is considered strong evidence of an affective pain experience in vertebrates. Nor is that the only parallel.
Crook also found evidence that octopuses could discriminate between different qualities and intensities of pain in different locations on their bodies. 
All of the octopuses injected with the acid showed grooming behaviors at that injection site for the full 20-minute training trial, removing a small area of their skin with their beak. 
This differs to other studies on peripheral pain responses, where octopuses had their arms crushed or cut off, and suggests the acid injection is producing some sort of centralized response. In mammals, ongoing pain is caused by sustained activity in the periphery, which then drives long-term changes in the brain or spinal cord.
Cephalopods, on the other hand, rely heavily on their peripheral nervous system and it’s unclear how much of that information makes its way to their central circuits.
Using electrophysiological recordings, Crook has indirectly shown a prolonged peripheral response in the pathway to the octopus’ brain, which appears to represent the intensity of pain experienced from the acid injections. What’s more, these messages are rapidly silenced and reversed with an analgesic – a strong sign of pain experience. 
“Together, these data provide strong support for the existence of a lasting, negative affective state in octopuses,” the paper concludes.
To date, ongoing pain, as opposed to transient pain, has only been demonstrated in mammals, so it’s pretty incredible that scientists have noticed something similar in an invertebrate. 
Earlier this week, scientists also showed that cuttlefish are capable of passing the marshmallow test – a cognitive test designed to measure children’s self regulation.
Such knowledge raises ethical questions about how we care for and study cephalopods, while also providing a novel evolutionary origin for the experience of pain in the animal kingdom.
“Our goal with this study was to move the question of invertebrate pain beyond reasonable doubt,” reads a press release from Crook’s lab, “so that efforts to better regulate their humane use can proceed with a strong evidentiary foundation that until now, has been lacking.”
The study was published in iScience. 
#Nature
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onisiondrama · 3 years
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"Onision Rant (live)" May 1, 2021, Speaks
Summary Part 3
Someone asks if James ever messed with crypto. James says he has a lot in Doge. The fan talks about how he had success with Doge and offers to show James how.
James says lately he's been feeling like he doesn't get money. He understands people love the idea of having wealth. He doesn't know what he'd do when he retires, so he doesn't get the point of excessive money.
They talk more about the fan's Doge investments.
They joke about Andy Biersack's attractiveness.
People in chat comment about James' zits. James says he hasn't worn make up in years. He says he doesn't need to worry about it because the only people who would comment about zits aren't in the right headspace. He says to the people who say his hair is greasy, he washes it every day so he doesn't know what to do about it.
James says he only reads the hate comments outload. He says he doesn't feel anything when he reads them except humor. He says people spam groomer, but it's not accurate so it's not annoying to him.
He says he never thought about grooming until people brought it up. He asks what the law's approach is on that concept? He says he doesn't understand if someone is attracted to minors, why would they wait for them to become an adult? He says he's not a pedophile because there was no kid.
Someone said they were a fan of his back in the day so they saw signs of the craziness. James says everywhere he guesses.
More crypto talk. James tells them to remember what happened with bitcoin when it dropped. He says you gotta invest when something is less than a penny and you can put a couple PlayStation games worth into it. He's afraid of investing at Doge right now, but he invested at a fraction of a penny and at 5 cents.
Someone in chat brings up the wetlands. He says he hasn't told anyone this, but they made him rebuild the wetland where he didn't bulldoze. They didn't make him rebuild the part he bulldozed. He says when he moved in there was a pathway to the water, then they wanted him to plant there. Now there's vegetation where there wasn't supposed to be vegetation in the first place. They sent him a non-compliance letter and he asked why they sent that to him when he planted the plants. It was because they wanted him to plant where he didn't bulldoze. So he moved the plants and sent them the photo. He did everything they wanted and it was good to go. He says when people say he destroyed the wetlands, it's actually now better than ever. He says he's kind of a hero when you think about it because now there's no noxious weeds and now it's all Washington native plants that won't hurt children. He improved it for humans and animals.
Someone said he should make a video tour of the wetlands. He says he doesn't have access to it anymore. Not his living quarters.
He talks to McFly about their 1 on 1 game later.
Someone in chat points out James' sub count vs how many viewers he has. James says every OG Youtuber is irrelevant now. PewDiePie is still killing it, but people like Social Repose aren't.
James asks RealStream for more questions about the Sarah conversation. RS says they spoke for 9 hours. James says no, they spoke for 9 hours the first night and they spoke 1 or 2 hours the next morning. He says he called both times. He tried calling in the morning, but she said she was eating so he called later.
Someone asked what the overall vibe was. James says Sarah convinced herself everything she said before wasn't true and now she had a totally new narrative. She genuinely thinks she was groomed now even though she apologized for raping him. In the conversation she confirmed she apologized twice for raping him. She confirmed she threatened to destroy his life and she did sexually extort / blackmail him by saying she wouldn't sleep with him unless he slept with her or she would ruin his life. He asked about how she swore on her grandmother's life she wasn't groomed and she said her grandmother's getting old and will die soon anyway. Everyone in VC reacts negatively to that. James says he was in disbelief when she said that. He says she asked three times if he was recording the conversation after he asked bait-y questions. He can't record in his state. She said she could in her state, but she said she didn't record it.
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jellyfax · 4 years
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So, I kinda got a rebuttal to this ask I had sent to an "anti-shipper." I'm still pretty confused, frustrated, disappointed, and disturbed that a fair number of "anti-shippers" essentially OK’d the statements from Lindsay Ellis shown below. They, rather poorly, attempted to argue that she's not trying to portray all "anti-shippers" as being unreasonable, overly emotional, aggressive pearl clutchers who have their priorities mixed up. Even though that's clearly what she's doing here. She's using the Beetlejuice franchise as an example, a patient zero of sorts, for how "antis" (people critical of positive and romanticized depictions of abuse in media) ruin fandom with what Ellis views as unsolicited antics.
That group of so-called anti shippers also ignored how Ellis shows approval for what she describes as "an asexual couple [that] give off couple vibes." The couple in question are a 12-year-old child (Lydia) and an adult of indeterminate age (Beetlejuice). The implication here is that Ellis views the pair as a romantic couple which should be concerning to supposed antis. Those anti-shippers made no attempt to claim that that would constitute as a pedophilic relationship. And, they didn't seem even the slightest bit disturbed that, at least according to Ellis, the pedophilic ship could be canon to the Beetlejuice cartoon. Albeit, there's no real, hard proof that that's the case, it seems more like wishful thinking on the part of people who ship Lydia and Beetlejuice, but you'd think that anti-shippers would still be alarmed that child grooming and pedophilic child abuse may be being promoted in a children's cartoon.
It stands to reason that if she's fine with the elements of child grooming embedded in a relationship between Beetlejuice and Lydia,  it's not a stretch that she'd be alright with shipping something like Sesshomaru and Rin from Inuyasha. Oddly enough if you really think about it, Beetlejuice x Lydia is arguably worse than Sesshomaru x Rin, because it's rumored to be a canon romantic, "asexual" be dammed, relationship between a pre-pubescent girl and a grown man. Even SessRin doesn't have that kind of baggage because canonical shipping has not occurred between Rin as a child and the young adult Sesshomaru. It's strange that these anti-shippers express more ire towards the least substantiated and comparatively less controversial pairing (SessRin) while the more contentious ship basically gets a slide (Beetlebabe). Needless to say, both pairings represent child grooming in a positive way, so they're both atrocious and it's so bizarre that some antis would be so hesitant to admit that.🤷🏽‍♀️ UPDATE 3/21/2021: In retrospect, SessRin is a much worse pairing as to date it's been canonized in Yashahime. Even so, given her comments, it's safe to say that Lindsay Ellis would definitely think SessRin was fine too.
Then, those antis completely neglected the fact that Ellis presents antis here as mostly newbie fans brought in by recent adaptations and are largely interlopers in decades-old fandoms. Such intruders resist the "ship and let ship" way of elder fans and Ellis is not having it. No matter how unfazed she tries to seem about it, she's obviously very upset by what she believes is new fandom presumably spearheaded by those darn young'uns. What I'm saying is she's giving off noxious levels of fandom mom 'tude here. However, yet again the anti-shippers, some of whom practically wrote essay-length retorts, didn't even mention her clear bias against antis and her favor towards pro-shippers.
Lindsay Ellis isn't just passing overly generalized judgment against anti-shippers in the Beetlejuice fandom, she's applying that judgment to all antis across all fandoms. To defend her statements as an anti is antithetical, contradictory, and even hypocritical. If antis side with Lindsay Ellis on these ideas, it really means that they're going against most of what they claim they stand for. And for what? Ellis has a few good takes, so you won’t oppose her in anyway when it's brought to light that she bears a clear resentment towards people who speak out against media that portrays child grooming as attractive and harmless?
Like, yo she don't like people like you, why ya stanning her? She's not only passing judgment on antis who behave badly, those who harrass, bully, make false claims and are overall very abrasive, she dislikes all antis regardless of behavior. Lindsay Ellis wouldn't consider you one of the "good" antis and she'd never want to side with you over her ilk: pro-shippers. If you're an anti with a blog devoted to anti topics, you better believe she wrote this thread to make you feel like an unwanted, purity policing intruder in fan spaces. Geez, also the fact that these "anti-shippers" are pretty tolerant of fans shipping children characters with adult characters is unnerving in how incongruous it is. "When big media corporations OK positive depictions of child grooming it's totally bad, but if fans do it, those depictions don't really affect anyone or anything. Fan-made media, especially if it's easily and publicly accessible as well as prevalent, exists in a vacuum and bears no weight on how we view and interact with our world! Anti-shippers and pro-shippers can all just coexist, guys!!!"🤦🏽‍♀️ On second thought, maybe ~anti anti fandom moms~ like Ellis would be cool with you, since you give them so much leeway. I swear, this isn't the first time I've encountered antis that are this hypocritical and backpedal on their stances, and it won't be the last.
I had also mentioned how Lindsay Ellis's defense of the Twilight Saga greatly downplayed and even omitted core criticisms of the franchise like it's racism, misogyny, and child grooming in favor of only stressing how backlash against Twilight was due to misogyny directed at the writer and fanbase. Unsurprisingly, the anti-shippers dismissed that claim without much thought despite that being an ongoing issue prevalent in many assessments of the Twilight franchise.
Anyway, if you're critical of positive and romanticized depictions of abuse in media (both mainstream and fan-made), maybe don't stan or defend Lindsay Ellis. Especially when she makes "anti anti" comments like that shown below
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