#people who do not like them will be very unhappy to encounter one where it isn't supposed to be

[taz-writes]

here's a hot take for today

the narrative function of sex is the same as the narrative function of fight scenes is the same as the narrative function of songs in a musical

no i will not explain

[strawbellyx3]

Some thoughts on JinMao in The Apothecary Diaries LN (spoilers)

I love how Maomao's love for Jinshi is written in the Light Novel. She's an unreliable narrator and can't put a name on what she feels for a long time and heck, for the most time she doesn't even want to. The beginning of volume 6 showing this perfectly when she didn't want to leave Jinshi's hair stick behind, carried it with her and when she slept, she kept it near her chest because she didn't want to have it anywhere where she could see it. The symbolism *chef kiss* (she doesn't want to face her feelings but also still carries them close to her chest)

She purposely chooses to avoid thinking about any potential feelings for Jinshi and at the end of the same volume it's also stated that she does have some kind of affection for him that she can't yet put into words.

For readers, it's easy to view Maomao's avoidant attitude as disinterest. Even more so paired with how she doesn't seem to ever be nervous around Jinshi. But really, we don't need blushy nervous Maomao to understand what she's feeling. Her feelings come to show everytime she worries about Jinshi's well being and goes out of her way to get him to eat and rest, takes time of her own day to make sure that he's well.

When at the beginning, she always considered him bringing all these tasks to her as bothersome. Maomao just wanted to experiment with poison and make medicine, she didn't want to spend time on anything else, really.

Then, in volume 9 she's even willing to give up her agency if it meant helping ease his burdens.

Maomao, miss "I don't want to have anything to do with this, this is bothersome" tells him to use all of her. Use her until she falls apart. (while kabedoning him, love Maomao being an absolute girlboss even when she tells him to use her)

She's worried by his selflessness. How he's unable to use other people to reach his goals and shoulders everything on his own, wanting to save everyone. Maomao gets upset by it and worries he'd never get anything in return and become as luckless in life as her adoptive father. Who carries the same selflessness and kindness.

I don't think we talk enough about how much it means for Maomao to get to a point where she would rather get used by Jinshi than to see him exhaust himself.

This whole scene afterwards is just..generally really heartwarming honestly.

(Volume 9 Chapter 20)

Her hands went to Jinshi’s cheek. “You’re only human, Master Jinshi. You’re not some mythical immortal who can save everyone.” She held his face in her hands, the fingers of her left hand brushing his scar. “You can be wounded, scarred, brought low. Only human.”

Who was she talking to? She knew Jinshi was standing in front of her, but for some reason she kept seeing Luomen’s face.

No wonder I’m so upset. The principle that drove Jinshi’s behavior seemed very similar to Luomen’s. She was afraid that if he went on like this, he would end up just as luckless in life as her old man. Just like Pops... He’d spent himself trying to rescue everyone and everything. Like a fool. He should have wanted more, been greedier, but instead he’d suffered his fate patiently. Suffered and suffered, and for what? To become an old man resigned to his empty hands. This was, it was fair to say, Maomao’s one criticism of her father. She’d felt it keenly in the affair with the Shaonese shrine maiden. She respected Luomen immensely. A man who never lost his kindness no matter what unhappiness he encountered was like a miracle. The price, though, was that his body and his heart were both battered. In time he became so that everything he did, he did in the expectation of defeat. Would Jinshi end up like him one day? Or— “Please, please don’t go doing anything else like burning a brand into your skin,” Maomao said. “I heard you...the first several times,” Jinshi replied. “Are you sure?” A smile flitted across Maomao’s face, and she slowly pulled her hands away.

[halcified]

teru & socialization

i've posted about this before but something ive been thinking about a LOT is mp100's themes of loneliness (and eventual connections). i think this is an aspect of teru's character (in particular) that gets left out because it's not as explicit but i've been wanting to do a deep dive on it for a while and i finally sat down to do it. just a warning, this post is gonna be LONG.

these two panels are from chapter 16 of the manga (which i'm using for my evidence because i. dont want to scrub through the anime LOL). initial sentiment: teru uses his powers to cheat having friends/a good social life and wouldn't have that if he tried earnestly. this is a fair interpretation of the scene. with what we know, at this point of time (as in within the teru-mob fight) teru would not be able to connect with other people earnestly, due to his mindset. which i think is a fair interpretation, HOWEVER:

(from chapter 17 ^^) the first panel shows teru's expression to be strained and the second is visibly unhappy. this puts the first set of panels into a different context, that maybe underneath all of this, teru doesn't WANT any of this life that he's built. keep in mind that i'm analyzing this with teru's possible autistic tendencies in mind & you dont have to believe he's autistic, im not your dad, but i do find this a pretty meaningful indication of masking if he were

(note: yes, the strain can definitely be read as comp-het, and i would agree but that's not relevant so go read this post on that instead)

even if the rest of these panels show teru content with his life, i think these expressions are pretty vital to how we read his life especially because we know so little of it. think about it, if you were a kid desperate for affection because you couldn't get it anywhere else, especially not in a way that would come off as "mature" or "unaffected", wouldn't you also look for validation in your popularity? even if it aligned you with people who you consider fundamentally different to you? my point here is that teru can't not stand out-- it's in his nature-- and we are shown how he tries to blend in & receive attention in the only way possible to him; which is to say that he molds himself into something that is palatable, likeable, and superior to other people. if he's nothing, like mob, he has spent his entire life covering up for it. if he fails socially, like mob, he has to be good at everything (even if he cheats to do so) so that everyone else can look past it.

(side note for my teru angst enjoyers: this is a panel of his mom. the mom who he hasn't seen in years. doesn't it make sense that, if he hasn't heard his mom say he's proud of him for literal years, that he would overachieve in response? not related to the autism thing i just have the teru bug. also don't be misogynistic in my notes both his parents suck we just get a singular mention of his mom)

so if teru couldn't meaningfully have friends before mob, that could very easily be because of his past mindset, right?

...except, we don't.. really... see him make other friends afterwards.

but, the awakening lab, right?

(ok i lied to you sorry there is one anime screenshot and thats because it stood out to me while i rewatched it earlier this month. sorry.) id like to bring attention to this screenshot during the cultural festival because the awakening lab can definitely be seen as a direct contradiction of this and i'd like to point out a couple things:

1) in this scene the shiratori brothers are in another room 2) them and the other three are friends with ritsu (or at least close enough acquaintances to want to see him).

considering this is one of the only times they appear together for Fun i am more inclined to believe this is an encounter where they went together because they all would've gone separately anyway. this isn't to discount the possible bond that these characters might have, but thats the thing. we... aren't really shown that they're friends and enjoy spending time together outside of this screenshot, where two out of six of the members are not even present. not to mention that teru is still placing himself in a role separate from his peers. despite stripping the superiority away, teru is still the awakening lab's mentor, not friend. teru still views himself as fundamentally different in a context where his psychic powers don't make him that way.

...except with mob. i bring this placement of power up because where he is the awakening lab's mentor, teru declares mob to be his rival, or, in other words, teru is just like him. he is accepting that mob and him are the same. (and if we view mob from an autistic lens... so on and so forth)

as if to hammer in that point even further-- in the summer vacation omake, teru explicitly states that "summer break is just a super long, super boring stretch of alone time." i'm not sure of the timeline here, but guessing from the hair, we're at least post season 1. which gives us explicit confirmation here that teru is spending the break alone despite his relationship to the awakening lab. his connection to mob is a lifeline here because mob is one of the only people who can intuitively understand teru's isolation without judgment

(also, on that point of teru's autistic tendencies: teru does and says a LOT of things that would raise other peoples eyebrows and doesn't seem to notice.

here we get teru actively admitting to his home life, right in front of reigen, WHO COULD CALL CHILD SERVICES ON HIM? this genuinely made me rethink this character entirely. teru's filter is... minimal. he isn't constantly volunteering information and generally minds his own business, but if you ask? Well.

teru is a social person, but to say he is proficient in understanding social situations seems... wrong. teru views his loneliness as boring because, despite being fairly open, does not actually allow himself to think about his own feelings and how they affect him. this loneliness is boring because he doesn't have enough of a reference to realize its not

if we are taking pre-mob teru to be a version of himself who is masking, or at the very least someone who is faking a lot of stuff in a less autistic sense, the fight with mob changes teru to the point where he no longer hides himself. in the same way that mob was able to shake teru's fragile superiority complex i think the change in appearance marks the end of the self teru had built up. from this point on we see him become a lot more... Him. his appearance and his fashion choices are, presumably, completely normal to him and we get no indication that he believes otherwise despite the reactions it gets-- which is... well, i wouldn't be writing this post if i thought it was one of his most neurotypical traits.

in fact, he seems... pretty oblivious to what other people think of him. which is an interesting distinction to make considering the intelligence we Know he possesses (which is not to say that you are unintelligent if you don't pick up on social cues, just that its common for media to depict it that way.) these traits are made pointedly, even if unintentionally, separate, ESPECIALLY when you note the amount of characters who Do ruminate on or stare at teru's appearance.

some examples. i don't even think this is all of it-- case in point.)

[talaok]

Chapter one: The perfect life

Pairing: No-outbreak!Joel x married!reader

Series summary: You moved to Austin Texas with your husband due to his job, but your already troubled marriage is about to get more complicated when the contractor remodeling your home, Joel Miller, will enter both of your lives.

Chapter summary: Moving to Austin was the right decision, but you can't shake the feeling that something's wrong.

warnings: hints to the reader's unhappy childhood, and a very short smut moment

Next chapter

New city, new home, new life.

You should have been happy, you really should have been, but the weight that had sat on your chest as you got on the plane had lingered.

You wanted this. You had to.

You had the perfect life.

A big house with an even bigger lawn, more money than you ever thought possible, and a loving husband.

A loving husband of two years, a loving husband who had to move to Texas for work, a loving husband who you followed across the country, leaving everything and everyone behind, because it's him, and you love him. 

Yes. You love him, just as he loves you.

You just needed time, time to adjust, and find a way to start new.

And Austin seemed as good a place as any.

It's warm and sunny here, and the city has an aura you had never quite encountered in any other place.

It's different from New York, yes, but different is good, different means change, and you needed a change.

"I smell burnt"

"oh- shit" you hissed, your gaze finally dropping from the window and down towards the pan where bacon was frying.

You turned the stove off and opened the window, trying to get some of the smell out. 

"You ok?" 

You looked at Richard, his deep blue eyes, perfectly slicked-back hair, and the tailored suit hugging his body like a second skin made him look as if he had come straight out of a commercial.

He wasn't watching you anymore, his attention had moved to the coffee maker.

"yeah I'm fine, I'm just a little tired I guess"

"you should rest today," he said, pouring some coffee into a cup

"I will" you nodded, glancing at the pan "I should probably make more bacon"

"don't worry" he stopped you "I'll just eat something on the way"

"you sure?"

"Yeah" He took a sip from his mug and set down on a stool 

"So..." you walked to the opposite side of the kitchen counter to face him "Are you nervous?"

He raised his eyes from his phone to look at you.

"Why would I be? I'm the boss"

"yeah, but it's still your first day"

He shrugged "I just want to get it over with, today's only gonna be meetings and people introducing themselves, tomorrow's gonna be my actual first day"

"right," you offered him a small smile "And have you talked to Francis?"

"Yeah, he said he'll show me around today" 

He stood up to place the cup in the sink.

"and about the remodeling?"

"Right, yeah he gave me a number, I'll text it to you"

"great"

Silence fell, and with it, a spell seemed to turn you both to stone

He broke it first

"Right" he glanced at his watch "I better go"

"Right," you said, taking a step closer to him.

His lips were on and off of yours so quickly you wondered if you had imagined it.

"Have a great day" you managed, as he walked out of the room

"you too"

__ __ __

The shelves had finally started to come to life.

"Why do we have to bring all your books, it's a waste of time" you recalled Richard saying "It's not like you're gonna read all of them again"

It infuriated you how he didn't get it, how completely baffled he was by your decision.

Like hell you were leaving such an important part of you back home.

Some of the volumes filling the living room you've had since you were a child, some of these stories raised you when there was no one else bothering to do the job.

A small, unexpected smile pulled at your lips as your gaze fell to the last remaining book in the box.

'scary stories to tell in the dark'

You were only 12 years old when you read it. You had found it in the school library, and tempted by a bravado that didn't belong to you, you had picked it up and stuffed it in your bag, carrying it all the way home as if it were the most precious treasure ever known to man.

It had helped silence the screams down the hallway, but it also made it impossible for you to sleep for a whole week.

A quiet laugh climbed your throat as you remembered watching every shadow in your room mutate into a horrifying monster.

You had never given it back.

The barely-together copy in your hands was the same one you had held 22 years ago.

For some reason, out of all the books you've read, this one you held closer to your heart.

Perhaps it was the rebellion behind the act, or perhaps, it was the feeling that that book had given you, the courage, the proof that you could do it, that you were gonna come out the other end, the proof, at last, that monsters can be fought, and at times even defeated.

You sighed, as you settled the book onto the now overflowing shelf, taking a step back to admire the living room.

That's it.

Piece by piece, you were gonna make this your home.

The next hours passed in a frenzy and by the time only a box was left on the floor, it was two in the afternoon.

You had been so caught up with your work you had forgotten to eat.

And now that you realized... god if you weren't hungry.

It's just one more box though, you thought as you peeked at it.

Yeah, c'mon I can do this

Only the stuff for the coffee table remained, and as you took the first item-

Fuck.

The shattered lamp rested on the floor like paint on a Pollok.

Fuck me, man, that was expensive.

You cringed as you bent to try and pick up the sharp pieces, but of course, as a ringing sounded across the room, you gasped and lost your focus, cutting your finger on the glass.

A stinging pain shot through you and you winced loudly, stumbling backward while trying hard not to look at the blood.

This really wasn't the time to be fainting.

Your phone was still annoyingly ringing.

"What?" you picked up without bothering to look

"I'm sorry is this a bad time?" what sounded like a confused male's voice spoke through the phone.

"Richard?" you frowned as you realized it was an unknown number "I'm sorry who's this?"

"I'm Joel, Joel Miller, from the contracting company" he paused "Your husband gave me your number"

"oh" you breathed "I-I'm sorry, he didn't tell me"

"Ma'am if this is a bad time I can call you later"

"no, no please don't worry I just- Now it's fine"

"ok good, your husband has told me you want to do some remodeling?"

"Yeah, we have a big room on the second floor that's unutilized and I'd like to build up a wall and make it into two rooms, perhaps a guest bedroom and bathroom"

He hummed, considering your words "That shouldn't be a problem, I'd like to come to your house one of these days so I can see the space firsthand"

"Yeah sure" You nodded, wrapping a paper towel around your finger once you walked to the kitchen "Would tomorrow be alright?"

"Absolutely, how does 10:30 sound?"

"perfect" you smiled 

"Alright then, if you just give me your address we're gonna be all set"

"of course"

__ __ __

he didn't come home for dinner.

"I'll eat out with some of my colleagues"

That's all he said.

And before you knew it you were heating a frozen pizza in the oven, and watching the sun disappear on the horizon through the kitchen window.

It was good that he stayed out, that's what you kept repeating in your head.

It's good that he's already getting to know his colleagues, and it's good that he's already settling in, it's perfect.

It's what you should be doing.

And yes you would have liked to spend more time with him today, but there's still tomorrow, and the day after that... there's still the rest of your life, one day certainly won't make a difference.

And it's not like you didn't enjoy the quiet, it gave you time to think, to look around the bare walls and ponder what you should fill them with.

A painting there, a mirror there, photos there... it was all coming together in your head.

The house had started to look more like a home, your home.

It was 9 pm by the time you decided to go to bed, it was early for your standards, but you'd had a long day.

He wasn't home yet.

You didn't know what time it was when you heard the front door open, but you were still awake, having tossed and turned hoping to tire yourself out for what felt like an eternity.

"hey" you murmured, once he entered the bedroom

"What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep"

He only nodded, as he started undressing

"So how did it go?"

"well," he said "Everyone seems nice enough"

"I'm glad" you smiled, turning on your side to look at him better "I unboxed everything for the living room today"

"cool," he sighed, hanging his suit and walking into the bathroom.

You laid there, listening to the toilet flush and the sink being shut on and off.

He emerged from the door again and made his way into the bed.

"And the contracting guy called" you continued, as he made himself comfortable "He'll come by tomorrow"

"that's good" he breathed, turning the light off 

"I told him what we wanna do and he said it shouldn't be a problem"

"yeah?" he asked, as you felt him shuffle closer to you

"Yup, he said he's done stuff like that before and he just needs to-" Your words got lost in your throat once you felt his hand travel to your chest.

"Richard?" you murmured, while his mouth moved to your shoulder and slowly up your neck.

The smell of his two hundred dollars aftershave hit your nostrils immediately.

"mh?" he hummed, letting his hand sneak down to find your ass through your shorts.

"Richard... I'm tired" you whimpered

"C'mon baby, you don't have to do anything I'll do all the work"

His hands on you felt inexplicably wrong right at that moment.

"I just-" you tried to slowly shift away from his grip "I've unpacked all day, I don't feel like it"

He emitted an audible groan "Y/n it's been like a month since you've last felt like it"

Your mouth closed as quickly as it had opened.

It was the truth, you hadn't been in the mood for a while now. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know- maybe tomorrow..."

He sighed, pushing himself off of you

"Whatever"

A small gust of air sent a shiver up your spine as he got up.

"where are you going?" you asked, watching his shadow move around the room.

"I'll just watch some tv or something"

"oh- alright," your voice was so small you almost didn't sound like yourself.

He didn't seem to hear you as he closed the door behind him, casting a veil of darkness over the room.

Once again, you were alone.

You turned towards the window, the moon's soft glow split the ocean of blue in the sky, shily lighting the neighborhood.

You felt a knot in your stomach, a sudden urge to cry, but as you watched the wind glide through the leaves and trees and grass, you were able to breathe, breath with each gust, slowly willing your heart to stop racing and your eyes to dry.

There was nothing to cry about.

Everything was good, great, fantastic even.

You had the perfect life.

Everything you had ever dreamed of was right in your grasp.

You just needed time, and everything was gonna work itself out fine.

…

Next chapter

...

(if you’d like to be added to the taglist comment or text me)

[bucketsofmonsters]

Proper Etiquette - Part 1

cw: arranged marriage, oral sex, non-human genetalia, loss of virginity, reader is very repressed

male demon x fem reader

word count: 8k

part 1   part 2

You’d spent the whole week non stop planning your wedding. Stuff you’d dreamed about for ages. You had found your dress and helped pick flowers and colors, finally given the opportunity to decide things, to plan something for yourself. Everything would be perfect. But the planning couldn’t go on forever, eventually the actual day did arrive. 

And now you sat in the throne room, waiting to meet your future husband. It was odd, in all the years of thought you’d put into this wedding you hadn’t given much thought into who you'd be marrying. It wasn’t like it would matter anyways. You’d known it would be out of your control, that them letting you plan the wedding was nothing but an attempt to pacify you. A facade of control to distract you from the rest of your life that you had no part in making the decisions about. 

Sitting here, waiting for him to arrive, you could no longer indulge in that. You couldn’t throw yourself into planning, try and distract yourself from everything else. You sat there, chin up and face as unreadable as you could make it, and you had nothing to do but think. You had to stay present, it was important to consciously make yourself look regal in front of everyone, but that just made the time pass even slower, your incessant worry becoming overwhelming. 

Of course you’d known you wouldn’t get to choose who you married, that was how being a princess worked. That was why you’d put it out of your mind so intentionally, no use worrying about things you couldn’t change. However, in all your years of not thinking about it, you’d never imagined that this was how you’d end up. You assumed you’d marry some haughty rich boy, probably a prince or a king. You’d met enough of them to know that most of them were the same. You knew what awaited you, or at least you’d thought you had. Somehow, you had been blindsided. 

You wouldn’t react emotionally. They’d explained everything to you beforehand so you had time to cry, to get frustrated, to argue, to adjust. You were numb to it now. You’d do your duty and you would do it with grace. 

Part of you had thought that the descriptions of your husband-to-be and the others of his creed must have been exaggerated, that the people who had encountered them had been making the demons sound more imposing for the sake of their little tales. It wasn’t a foreign idea, returning soldiers would say plenty of things to make their victory sound a little more heroic or to make their defeat sound more justified. As he entered the room, you instantly realized that you had been wrong. The first thing you noticed was his size. He was easily seven feet tall, towering above everyone else in the room. His skin was a reddish-purple, far from anything human, with large, dark horns coming out of his head. 

He arrived alone. That had been one of the conditions of his arrival. Your father was convinced that if he’d brought more people, surely they’d attempt an invasion. Coming alone would prove his dedication to the peace you were forming with this marriage. You would return to his home with him when this was all over anyways. 

You had thought the rule foolish when you’d first heard it but now you were grateful. One towering man was more than enough to make you nervous, at least this way you had somewhere to focus your attention. 

You father spoke beside you, nodding his head in greeting. “Prince Rygel.”

The prince commanded the room's attention. You could feel everyone holding their breath, waiting nervously for him to speak. 

He spoke with a huff, clearly just as unhappy with this situation as you were. “Let’s get this over with.”

And with those words it was official. It was your wedding day. 

You didn’t think you’d get a chance to speak to one another before the ceremony and were confused when you were hustled into a side room, far from where you thought you’d be getting ready. When you turned to see the figure in the room you froze before remembering yourself. 

You curtsied deeply, showing respect as best you could. “Prince Rygel.”

He nodded, not bowing in return. “Princess.” 

For a moment frustration washed over you before you thought better of it. You knew nothing of his customs, of what a sign of respect was where he was from. Perhaps you were afraid of him, but you would not assume. Doing so would only make things worse, deepen the divide that already stood between the two of you. 

“I did not think we’d get to speak.” You attempted a smile as you spoke, doing your best to bridge that divide as much as could. 

“I insisted on it. It seems barbaric to marry someone I’d never even spoken to.” He seemed distracted, barely even looking at you.

You shrugged. “Such is politics.” That’s what you’d been telling yourself nonstop ever since you’d heard of the news, it wasn’t difficult to vocalize it. 

“Perhaps.” He fell silent, contemplating something that he didn’t seem interested in cluing you in on. 

As you sat in silence, feeling ignored and afraid and entirely out of your depth, you decided to speak up. At this point the wedding was happening no matter what, you might as well get some words in beforehand. “They all say you’re all monsters.” Even your voice felt small around him, feeling like it was barely leaving your throat. 

You weren't sure what response you wanted from him. Maybe reassurance that they were wrong or confusion at where the idea had come from. Perhaps, even, confirmation it was true. At least then you’d know what you were getting yourself into. The uncertainty was what was getting to you, just seeking some amount of knowledge about what the future would hold. 

He just chuckled to himself at some joke you were unaware you’d made. “You’d hate to hear what we say about you.”

That hadn’t occurred to you. Although humans weren’t as physically intimidating, surely his people had horror stories just like yours did. Your nations had been at odds for a very long time, you were sure both sides had plenty of tales of the other. And you would be living there, amongst people who probably hated you. You focused on your breathing, needing to keep yourself presentable at least until this ordeal was over. 

He clearly noticed the state you were working yourself into. “Listen, I’m not happy about this either. You think I want to marry a human?”

Great. As well as being terrified of being tied forever to this monstrous man, you weren’t even wanted. 

“This isn’t about what we want,” you responded, making sure to keep your chin up as you spoke, set on showing strength as much as you could. 

“No, it’s not. We’re prolonging this, you should go.”

You turned to leave, in a rush to get out before thinking better of it. You had to start forming goodwill between you at some point if this was going to be bearable, you might as well start now. “I’ll see you later,” you said, sparing him a small smile. 

He wasn’t even paying attention, lost in his own thoughts. As you left, you wondered if they were racing as much as yours were. 

The preparation for the wedding was all a blur. You barely even registered it had begun before you were at the altar. You kept finding yourself glancing around as the wedding commenced around you, as if perhaps, if you didn’t look at Rygel and didn’t listen to the officiant drone on between you, maybe this wouldn’t be real. 

Someone bumped you and you jolted back to reality, realizing they were waiting for you to speak. You uttered, “I do” and then it was done. You were married. All that preparation and you barely felt conscious for most of it. 

And then, per tradition, you kissed. He had to lean down to do so, you standing on the tips of your toes to reach him. It lasted barely a second, both of you clearly eager for it to be over. As soon as it was done you were out again, tuning out the world. 

You barely even realized you were being beckoned away. You turned, wide-eyed, to see someone who decidedly was not your husband trying to gently push you down a hallway. As you looked where he was trying to send you, you saw your husband walking off, leaving you behind. You charitably decided to believe he’d told you to come along and you just hadn’t heard him in your state, as opposed to him just choosing to leave you. You quickly thanked the man who had gotten your attention and trailed after Rygel, trying to keep up with his long gait. 

By the time you arrived, he was already settling into your bedroom, the one you would be sharing until you headed off to your new home. It was fairly nondescript, barely anything in the room but a few tables and a bed. You still felt distant, almost as if you were dreaming, unable to ground yourself in this foreign room. 

You realized that while you were in your daze with your back turned, taking in your surroundings, the prince had changed into more comfortable clothes, some meant for sleeping. That snapped you out of your trance. Suddenly, you were all too present, the reality of the situation setting in. 

As you took him in once more, you also realized he was staring at you, wondering how long he’d been doing that while you’d been in your little trance. Honestly, he was probably wondering why instead of changing you’d started breathing heavily and refused to look him in the eyes for more than a moment. Your panic was obviously clear to him because his face softened and he turned, giving you a modicum of privacy. You breathed in deeply, trying to keep your emotions in check, and then scrambled to get dressed, practically tripping over yourself as you rushed. 

He spoke from behind you, voice less stilted than it had been earlier. “You don’t need to be scared of me, you know.”

“I just got married, I think I would be scared regardless.” You smoothed out the lines in your nightgown as you sat on the bed, indicating to him that he could turn around. 

When he did, he seemed confused. “Were you always scared of marriage? I’d assumed it was because of me.”

“I just… I kind of know what comes next. I’ve heard whisperings…”

He chuckled. “Whisperings you say.”

“I just don’t really understand it and people have been saying all sorts of things to me about you and about tonight and I kind of know the basics, I just…” Now you were really getting yourself worked up, spiraling as you were honest with yourself about how you felt for the first time since this had all begun. “It’s just intimidating and I don’t know anything about you or your kind or where you come from or about this.” You gestured vaguely around you, not even sure what you were referring to at this point. 

“You’ll learn about me, there’ll be time for that. And we don’t have to do anything.”

“But…”

He cut off what was inevitably going to be another panicked ramble. “None of that, no buts. In fact, I think it’s been a long day for both of us and we need some rest.”

This wasn’t at all what you'd imagined. You knew the broad strokes of what should be happening tonight, you should be trying for a child. Although, you didn't even know if the two of you could have a child, you very much doubted it. But regardless, you knew what didn't happen was the pair going quietly off to bed. You'd heard the whispers and the snickering, about tonight and your new husband. Part of you was relieved, no longer having to face down this unknown, but still, you remained uncertain, both of what should be happening and of what was actually occurring.

You took a shot in the dark, “And if I never let you touch me?”

He shrugged. “Then I'll never touch you. I am not in the business of terrorizing young women, whatever stories they've told you about my kind. I came here to bring peace, we have done that, what happens beyond that is up to you, not anyone you’ve happened to hear whispers from.”

You knew this wasn’t how things were done, that you were breaking some unspoken protocol but frankly, you were too tired to care. His words calmed you enough to stop your heart from racing, the exhaustion really setting in. Right now you just wanted to sleep.

It hadn’t really set in until just now that the two of you would be sharing a living space from now on. You got carefully under the covers on the opposite side of the bed from where he was sitting.

As he went to lay down next to you, you both quickly realized that his form did not fit on the bed at all, legs hanging off no matter how hard he tried. However, despite the lack of space, he kept a fair distance from you, making sure you didn’t touch. 

He grumbled to himself as he made himself as comfortable as he could given the situation. “Did you not have a bigger bed? You're all so tiny.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight which earned you a surprised look from the man. “I’m sorry, you just look so out of place.”

“When we return home, you’ll be drowning in bed space. None of these puny little beds.”

The smile fell from your face at the reminder. “When is that, when are we going?”

“We’ll wait a few days, so you can say your goodbyes.”

“Thank you.” You hoped the sense of genuine relief that washed over you had seeped into your voice, that he understood that you were grateful you’d have some time to adjust, even if he clearly didn’t want to be here. 

With your nerves mostly settled for the night you drifted off, doing your best to ignore the man laying next to you and pretend you were still in your own bed. 

You awoke to the feeling of being smacked in the face with a stray horn. You yelped out, more in surprise than pain, and Rygel jerked awake beside you. He quickly realized what had occurred as you rubbed your cheek and you spent your first morning as a married woman being apologized to profusely. 

Even long after you’d forgiven him, he still seemed mortified by the incident. “I’m really not used to such tight quarters, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine, you just surprised me,” you reassured him for what felt like the hundredth time.

He seemed eager to leave your company, embarrassment written across his face. “I should be leaving, me and your father have some details we need to finalize about the treaty.” You gave him a quiet nod as he rushed off.

You, on the other hand, were not involved in the peace negotiations. You barely knew what was going on. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried, you’d fought to get any knowledge of what your marriage actually meant for your kingdom but every time you’d been told it wasn’t your place. 

So, with nothing better to do, you set about giving yourself tasks. Right now, your mission was to try and make this room feel more like a home, even if you’d only be here a few days. You managed to squirrel away some of the flowers from your wedding that were already being thrown out. It was quite a waste, they were still beautiful and already they were being discarded, you were sure they wouldn’t mind you sneaking some off. 

You displayed them throughout the room, realizing too late you might have grabbed too many but unwilling to get rid of any of them. They brightened your mood and that was enough to justify having so many scattered about. 

As Rygel returned, he did not seem so enthused by the new addition to your room, more confused than anything. “What are these?”

You felt yourself spring up in excitement. “They’re flowers! They’re the ones from the wedding, I picked them out myself. Most of them were grown in our garden, it’s lovely out there this time of year.”

“Are they? We don’t really have gardens where I’m from.”

Your shoulders fell, the excitement draining from your body. You didn’t know much about your new home, besides the stories you’d been told about it which you were beginning to suspect may not have been entirely accurate. Now the only concrete information you really had was that there would be no flowers. “Oh, right. Well, you should at least see ours while we’re still here.”

“Would you like to show me?”

You nodded eagerly, always excited to give someone a tour of the gardens. You loved the flowers and the atmosphere and would talk about them to anyone who would listen to you, which historically hadn’t been very many people. 

As you rushed him outside to begin your tour, you realized that Rygel seemed to be able to stomach more of your rambling than most, following you deep into the palace’s quite extensive gardens, showing him your favorite plants and spots to hide out. 

You finally ended up in your favorite place, a little spot looking over a pond, mostly hidden away from the winding path by a willow tree. You’d spent many days here, hiding away from the world, trying to find a moment of quiet. You weren’t even sure you’d meant to walk here, your feet just taking you here on instinct. 

Rygel looked around, a ghost of a smile on his face. When he looked like this, you didn’t find him quite so threatening. He almost looked friendly. 

“You care a lot about this place.” It sounded almost like an accusation, like he’d caught you doing something.

 You nodded in agreement. “I grew up here, of course I do.”

“We don’t put as much emphasis on places. People, ideas, those are the things worth caring about. I thought your kind’s obsession with objects and places was all greed and pride but the way you care about this place… maybe I was quick to judge.”

You shrugged. “Maybe we both were.” Being here calmed you down, made everything feel like it made more sense. “You know, I used to sit under this tree and hide from my tutors so I wouldn’t have to go to class,” you said with a giggle.

“You don’t like learning?”

“Oh, no, I love learning! I just didn’t much like my tutor.”

He gasped in faux shock. “Princess. I didn’t know you had it in you to speak ill of someone.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you cracked a smile, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum. “I just didn’t like how he made me learn. Never really explained anything, it was all rules and refusing to answer my questions. I much preferred my time out here, I’d spend hours looking at the flowers and reading whatever I could get my hands on.”

“Seems like you probably learned more that way anyways. Did you ever swim in this pond? That’s what I would’ve been up to out here, probably less intellectual than the reading but more fun”

“Of course I did! What self respecting child wouldn’t ruin their nice dresses by jumping in a pond. When I was very young, before my etiquette classes became truly serious, I would go frog hunting in here, I’d find them and show them to everyone. I was quite the little menace.”

“You sound delightful. Curse the etiquette classes for taking that from the world, we could always use more frog hunters.”

“Yes, well, those sorts of things are for children. I’m a proper lady now.”

A sense of disdain passed over his face and you worried you’d ruined the moment. “I swear, it’s like they beat the fun out of you humans,” he grumbled, not seeming upset at you but seeming upset nonetheless. 

“It’s just not proper.”

“So? When we return you’ll learn to have fun again, I’m sure of it. We’ll find you a frog pond somewhere, let you enjoy yourself for once.”

Your first response was to be taken aback by the prospect. You felt like you probably didn’t look dissimilar to all the ladies of the court you’d tried to show frogs to in your youth, sneaking them in inside of your long sleeves and displaying them proudly to the horror of the people around you. 

There were lots of things you’d stopped doing. You wondered how many of them were normal where Rygel came from, how many deep seeded habits you’d have to unlearn. 

“Perhaps it’s best to leave the fun to the children.” You tried to look away from him, feeling some negative emotion brewing in the pit of your stomach that you didn’t want to deal with, when he grabbed your chin and pulled your attention back to him.

He inspected your face as he held it in his hand and you left it there, too shocked and confused to turn away again. “You’re scared,” he muttered. “Scared of what? Of not having to force yourself into these stuffy rules? Of anything new, perhaps?”

“I’m not scared.”

“Prove it.”

And then he leaned down and kissed you, his hand drifting to your cheek. His hands were so big they almost engulfed your face but the lightness of his touch offset how intimidating that was, his touch so soft that you could easily pull away if you wanted to. You didn't. 

You’d seen people kiss before, couples in the court showing quick affection towards one another. You had only been kissed once in your life, up on that altar in front of everyone. That kiss had been what you’d expected, exactly what you’d seen before, quick and quietly affectionate. This was nothing like that. This was something new.

This was passionate and overwhelming in a way you didn’t know a kiss could be. You tried to match his movements, unsure of yourself and trying to get out of your own head. As his lips moved against yours, you sunk into the kiss, shutting off your brain and just letting yourself feel. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to keep yourself on the tips of your toes so you could reach him properly. That wasn’t a concern for long as his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you up towards him. 

You let out a surprised little noise as his tongue entered your mouth, the feeling foreign but not unwelcome. It felt like he was exploring you in ways you’d never imagined before. You were happy the two of you were in your little hiding place because the idea of anyone seeing you like this was unthinkable. 

When he finally pulled away, you felt dizzy, almost like you were drunk on something, although on what you weren’t sure

You were at a loss for words, opening and closing your mouth, feeling like a fish out of water.

Finally you settled on, “Was that normal?”

His head cocked to the side. “Does it matter?”

You realized you were almost panting, your breathing heavy after the kiss, trying desperately to calm it down. 

He tilted your head up again and you let him, your cheeks burning beneath his gentle hand. “This flustered after a kiss, I can’t even imagine how disheveled I could make you.”

If it was anything like that, you’d welcome it. You weren’t sure you could manage words right now so you just stayed still, looking up at him quietly. 

His thumb ran across your cheek, a naked affection present in his eyes. “You know, I like you much more than I thought it would. They just pushed you down so far under those layers of etiquette that I couldn’t see it.”

A soft smile graced your face and you nuzzled into his hand, craving a closeness with him that you didn’t quite understand. 

With the tour finished and a peak of the afternoon reached, Rygel led you gently back towards the palance, seemingly unbothered by your silence. You were busy with other things, your mind mainly occupied with attempting to unravel the events of the afternoon and the cacophony of emotions and thoughts flowing through you. 

When you reached your room you were still trying to unravel the web of emotions you’d been stuck with, studying the flowers you’d squirreled away as you thought. Although you were unable to understand your own thoughts, something else did occur to you and you grabbed some flowers from the bouquet, pressing some sprigs of lavender under the couple of books in the room. 

Rygel watched you work, quietly observing as you picked out your favorite flowers and placed them within the pages of the books before stacking them up. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m pressing some flowers. It’s not much but it means they’ll be preserved and I can bring them with me when we leave.”

“That’s a clever idea.”

“Thank you!” You were beaming at the praise, his interest in and approval of your actions meaning more to you than you thought they would. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking…” you said, as you turned from your books back to your husband after having collected your thoughts. 

“Oh, have you.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be… you know…”

“You don’t need to talk in riddles. What are you asking me?”

You couldn’t. You physically did not have the capacity to speak plainly on this matter, feeling overwhelmed already. “Forget it, I was being silly,” you said, trying to brush it off.

He shook his head. “I’m not letting you run that easily, princess.”

“I just want us to do what we should be doing.” You tried to play it off, like this was no big deal and you just wanted to follow how things should be.

“You weren’t so eager last night. Last night it was ‘what if I never let you touch me.’ What’s changed? Maybe you want more than what you’re letting on.”

You reeled back, feeling as if you’d been accused of something. “No. That’s not true.”

“Maybe not. Do you want to try something? It won’t be what you heard whisperings of, not yet at least, I get the feeling that would be too much. Right now, let’s just focus on reminding you how to enjoy yourself, how does that sound?” He was drawing closer as he spoke and you could feel your heart hammering in your chest. 

He got so close to you that with one stray breath you’d be touching and then he stopped, waiting for your response. Things were in your hands now, you had to choose it, he wouldn’t let you just stumble into this.

You managed a quiet, “Okay,” and let out a sigh of relief when he didn’t press you for more. 

Instead, he gave you a gentle smile, one that you couldn’t help but return. 

“Stop me if it’s too much, alright? And keep talking, I want to hear that pretty little voice.”

Before those last words could leave you floundering, he crashed your mouths together once again and you let yourself get wrapped up in the kiss, everything else fading away. 

He picked you up effortlessly, mouth still pressed to yours, and you didn’t care where he took you as long as you got to keep doing this. You felt yourself being set on the bed, your arms wrapped around his neck, keeping him there with you as he pressed you into the sheets.

Eventually, despite your efforts to keep him there, he pulled away, drawing a small whine from you. Immediately you slapped your hand over your mouth, horrified at the noise you’d just made. 

He immediately grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand from your mouth and pressing it into the bed. “I said I want to hear you.”

You nodded immediately, your eagerness to please overwhelming your embarrassment. 

After you agreed, you expected to be kissed again, but instead, to your mild disappointment, he just drifted downwards. He pulled up the hems of your skirts, flipping them up towards you so he could get under them and you fought every urge to cover yourself back up. His hand began to pull down your tights as he studied your face.

“How are you feeling?”

You did an internal check in. How were you feeling? Different, that was for sure. It felt like something was brewing under your skin, your whole body flushing and your breaths getting heavy once more. “Hot. My heart is beating really fast.”

“All good things”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Yes, really.”

He pulled down your tights the rest of the way, leaving you fully exposed. You could barely even see him, the skirts he’d hiked up around your waist getting in the way. You pushed the skirts in, compressing them so you could see his face, desperate to read him, to understand what he was feeling.

He looked enthralled, staring between your thighs like they held all the answers in the universe. His massive fingers glided through your newly exposed folds. “Look at you, all nice and wet for me. I can’t believe I was able to get the innocent little princess so riled up.”

Before you had a chance to respond, he leaned forward and licked a hot, wet stripe through your folds, the sudden sensation making your legs clamp together, prevented by his head and horns between your thighs, keeping you spread open.

He stopped immediately, looking up at your wide-eyed face. “I said talk to me, how are you doing?”

Your mind was still reeling, barely able to think properly, let alone verbalize how you were feeling.

He prompted you further, searching your face for clues as to how you felt as he let his head rest on your lower stomach. “Come on, sweet girl.”

Your face flushed even more at the pet name, something you didn’t even know was possible. You weren’t sure your face had ever been this hot before in your life. 

“Can you do it again?” you ask, your voice soft and unsure. You felt as if you were doing something wrong but the overwhelming urge to experience it again overrode that. 

A mischievous smile crossed his face and he immediately dropped back down, pressing kisses into your upper thigh before his thick tongue returned to your folds, a whimper escaping your throat as he did. 

And then he sucked and your hips almost unwillingly bucked upwards. You could feel him repressing a grin, opting instead to nip at your upper thigh and you let out another whine, absolutely desperate for more. 

“Did that feel good? Are you enjoying yourself?”

His tone felt like he was teasing you but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, frantically nodding your head and babbling out words in the affirmative, hoping he’d do it again.

He seemed to enjoy teasing you, doing something that would make you gasp and then pulling away again, demanding responses or pressing kisses into your thighs for a while before returning. 

After a while, you realized he was waiting for you to tell him what to do, that he wouldn’t stop this teasing until you asked, perfectly content to sit down there and bring you right to the edge for as long as you let this go on. 

The next time he was where you wanted him, lapping at the spot right above your folds, you spoke unprompted for the first time since this had begun. “Please, stay there, I need more.”

The second you asked him he doubled down, his mouth now glued to you, a feeling in your lower stomach drawing tighter and tighter. The sensations were starting to get overwhelming, your head thrown back and your back arching into him. 

You grabbed at the fabric of your skirts, desperate for something more solid to hold onto. Finally, your hands reached down and grabbed his horns, wrapping as far around them as you could. This only seemed to spur him on, his arms lifting you up, holding your lower half slightly aloft and pulling you even further into his face, as if you weighed nothing. 

You were as close as you could be, your hands pushing his horns down, pressing his face further into you and his hands pulling you up into him, one of them drifting down to grab your ass while the other stayed firmly positioned at your hip. 

You were glad his new resolve to eat you out unendingly left him unable to speak because if he’d prompted a response from you right now, you were sure you wouldn’t be able to manage one. 

And then the world exploded. Your vision whited out. Distantly, you could feel yourself pushing up into his face, but everything else felt so far away compared to what you were feeling, the pure bliss ripping through you. 

It began to fade and you pushed Rygel off of you as the sensations started to become too much. He allowed you to push him away and sit up as he looked at you expectantly. He was panting too, as if this had affected him just as much as it had affected you. 

It felt like you were able to think for the first time since this had started, your normally ordered thoughts had completely left you behind. As you came down from your high, they returned and your head raced. What had just happened? 

As your ability to think coherently returned, a thick cloud of guilt settled over you. “This was wrong.”

His words were soft and low, like he was talking to a wounded animal. “You're crashing. This can happen after you come, a low after a high, it’s totally normal.”

You weren’t listening to him, you couldn’t listen to him. “This is evil.”

“You need affection right now, princess. Come here, let me take care of you.”

“I need to be away from you.” You stumbled to your feet, knees shaky and head reeling. Your skirts fell back to their rightful place as you stood. “This is wrong, I’m not supposed to… You’re trying to seduce me to evil.”

“I’m trying to seduce you to something. You need to calm down, just breathe.”

“No, this is… this can’t be right. We’re supposed to be producing children not… I have to go.”

You didn’t let him say another word to you, certain he could’ve convinced you to stay if you’d let him. 

Did human husbands do what he’d done to you? You’d never heard such things but then again, you were starting to think there were many things you hadn’t heard of. 

You went to the library as if it held any answers for you, pouring through books, not even sure what you were looking for at this point. The most you ever got out of them was “do what your husband says” and you were sure that they didn’t have your particular husband in mind when they wrote that.

Besides, he hadn’t actually told you to do anything. Quite the opposite, he would’t really do anything without you asking. It probably would have been easier if he’d told you what to do, easier to rationalize it that way. But now, the weight felt like it was on your shoulders. You had asked for this, if it wasn’t right that was on you.

After spiraling for hours, you realized night had long since set. No matter how out of sorts you felt, you should get back to your room. You winced at the prospect of having to face Rygel. You never seemed to be able to think around him, knowing that the confusion you were feeling now would only get worse in his presence. Why was he so overwhelming?

You thought there was a chance he’d be asleep when you returned, that you’d be able to slip into bed and you wouldn’t have to face him. That hope was squashed when you entered your room, finding him waiting patiently for you. 

“It’s a bit late for aftercare but something tells me you still need to be taken care of.” He opened his arms, beckoning you towards him. 

You weren’t even sure what you were doing, you just knew you wanted to be near him. A few days ago, you would’ve pushed the instinct aside, pushed down what you wanted, ignored it. But he’d broken down your walls too much and you wanted it too badly. 

As soon as you got within arms reach, he pulled you into his chest and you were absolutely engulfed by his embrace. 

You could practically feel the tension leave you, melting into him as he held you. You couldn’t help but feel safe with him, a quiet sense of reassurance present in his touch.

“Where did you go?”

You tried to shrug but you couldn’t, his embrace limiting the movement of your arms. “Just went to read.”

You felt a chuckle rumble through his chest. “Just so you know, I’m not bringing any of those damn etiquette books with us. They’ve ruined your life enough already. You know, I did something with my afternoon too.”

You somehow already felt sleepy. You kept missing just how tired you were right up until your worry left you. You were being held up only by his arms, if he stopped supporting you you’d collapse on the floor. Instead, he pulled the both of you back onto the bed, keeping you firmly tucked against him. 

You nuzzled into his chest as you spoke, the word coming out a little slurred as exhaustion overtook you. “What did you do?”

“I’ve found some flowers that I think will work with our soil back home, it won’t be what you have here but it’ll be something.”

Suddenly, you felt wide awake, pulling away so you could look at him. “You did what?”

“They seem important to you, I want you to feel at home.”

You felt yourself tearing up and he immediately pulled you into his chest.

This couldn’t be bad. This man who seemed intent on making you feel safe and welcome, who was never endingly obsessed with what you wanted, couldn’t be bad.  

You pulled back again, although he seemed reluctant to let you go. You immediately used the opportunity to crash your lips into his, desperate to show him how grateful you were. He seemed surprised at first but quickly and happily sunk into it. 

“You’re getting bolder,” he said as he pulled away, his forehead leaned against yours.

You were. Never would you have considered doing anything like that before today, something that you just did because you wanted to. Maybe having to unlearn all this, to live in his society, not fueled by what was proper wouldn’t be so bad. If it was like today, you couldn’t say you’d mind it at all. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” You said the words as soon as you realized they were true, your carefully constructed filter slipping away entirely. 

“I think I’m in love with you too. Funny how that works out.”

You let him pull you into him again, this time without any protest, happily falling asleep against his side. 

You woke up warm and happy, still tucked under his arm, your back pressed tightly to his front and your head tucked under his, a far cry from the deliberate distance between you you’d slept with before. 

As you wiggled a little to get comfortable, you heard him groan behind you, waking up. As you shifted, you felt something hard pressed into you before he pulled away, mumbling a quiet apology. 

As he did your rose with him and he immediately detected the confusion written across your face. His face fell into that familiar scowl and he muttered to himself, “Did they teach you anything?”

Not really. You’d assumed you’d sort of instinctively know everything. That’s how everyone had made it sound, like after you got married you’d just know what to do. Unfortunately, married you was just as clueless as unmarried you had been. 

You didn’t like feeling like you were in the dark, like everyone, including your husband, knew so much more than you. You’d been told you’d know what to do, you’d know what was right, you’d know so many things and yet they hadn’t given you the tools to figure those things out. It wasn’t fair. You options seemed to be to stay in the dark forever or potentially make the wrong choice because your supposed instincts just never kicked in. 

You wondered if this was a normal problem, if everyone was left in a confused panic after they got married. Sure, their situations probably weren’t as extreme as yours, but you couldn’t imagine that you’d feel more certain with a human spouse. 

Or maybe it was just you. Maybe everyone else in the world had these perfect instincts and here you were, trying not to spiral in front of your husband. 

He seemed to immediately pick up on your headspace, eyes softening as he watched you take shaky breaths. 

You sank to the floor, your head reeling, unsure of what to do with yourself but knowing you needed to sit down. 

He followed you down, sitting beside you. 

You buried your head in your hands so you didn’t have to face his concerned gaze. “I just wish I knew anything.” You were frustrated and confused and felt like you were at a disadvantage that you shouldn’t have had to deal with. 

“Do you want to learn? I can show you.”

That got your attention. Your head swung up to look at him. “What?”

“Well, you’re not going to learn by pouting on the floor. Or maybe… do you want to see?”

You nodded eagerly, watching him rise to his feet and sit on the edge of the bed, looking down at you. You rose to your knees, your stomach fluttering as he started to undo his pants.

Your eyes widened as they came undone and his cock sprang out, massive and hard. There was no way that would ever fit inside you. Maybe without the size difference, but not between the two of you. 

“Is this supposed to go…”

“Don’t worry about that, you’re just learning right now.”

You tentatively wrapped your hand around it, your fingers just barely unable to meet, needing both hands to encompass the whole thing. 

“It’s bigger than what most humans have,” he said, responding to the shocked look plastered across your face.

You certainly hoped so, you imagined this would look wildly disproportionate on a human man. 

You remembered what he’d done to you yesterday and tentatively licked the head of it, getting a taste of the liquid seeping from the tip.  As you did, he groaned. Your eyes flew up to look at his face, contorted in pleasure as he looked down at you. He’d liked that. You made him feel good, like what he’d done to you. 

You started again with new determination, wanting to make him feel good again. This was no longer just exploration, you had a goal now. You licked the head of it again, watching his reaction closely. 

He let out another low noise, eyes still on you. “Turns out I’m not the only tease in this marriage.”

You weren’t intentionally teasing him, you both knew that, but the idea that you could be filled you with a sense of power. Maybe you weren’t as experienced, but you could make him feel good and make him desperate for more, maybe you weren’t as far out of your depths as you thought.

You attempted to fit more of it in your mouth, no longer content with your tentative licks. You could barely fit anything past the head, the rest far too big, opting instead to wrap your hands around it. You sucked in and watched triumphantly as your actions were rewarded by him throwing his head back, another desperate noise leaving him. 

His eyes kept pulling back towards you, entranced by your actions as you explored and attempted to bring him closer to the bliss you’d experienced the day before. You licked and sucked, taking careful note of what got a reaction from him, trying to elicit more and more of them, loving every noise you managed to draw from the man. 

“Come on you… shit, I’m close, fuck me.” Through his expletives you kept on sucking, wanting to watch him come unraveled even more. He hissed out a few more curse words and pulled you off of him. You couldn’t help but let out a small whine as he did, wanting to earn more of those noises from him.

 He looked down at you, eyes wide, a frenzied look on his face. “You want more? I don’t want to accidentally choke you, just… fuck, look at you, so deperate for me. You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you look right now.” You stayed kneeled on the floor, waiting for further instruction. His hand wrapped all the way around his cock easily, not needing the two hands that you’d found necessary, his hips bucking desperately into his hand. 

“Can you keep your mouth open for me?” he asked between pants as he pumped his shaft. 

You nodded eagerly, wanting to please him. 

Just as your mouth fell open, he grunted one last time, sounding almost animalistic, and then he erupted, thick ropes of cum falling onto your face and into your mouth. 

It tasted like the stuff from before, just much more of it this time. You swallowed as much as you could but there was still plenty left to paint your face. Finally, the seemingly never ending ropes ceased and he began to soften.

You couldn’t have looked attractive, your eyes were watering and there was spit and cum everywhere but he was looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

“You did so well.” His hand cupped your cheek and you leaned into him happily. “Come on, I need to get you cleaned up.”

He guided you to your feet, pulling you into his side as he moved you towards the washroom and you let him pull you along, ready to let him take care of you.

[ladylingua]

I have a very genuine question about the tipping post I promise I didnt read it in bad faith: are people who simply cannot afford to tip not “allowed” to eat out? I’m just thinking about how it works where I am from and while tipping is the norm here if someone doesn’t tip because they can’t afford it it really isn’t a big deal (+tipping norm here us only 10%). so if a poor family goes out to eat to celebrate something and they can barely afford the meal would they still be expected to tip 20% because they shouldn’t eat out if they cant afford it? thank you in advance I’m really curious

If it helps, don’t think of the tip as a separate thing. It is part of the cost of your meal. So if you cannot afford to pay for the cost of the meal including the tip you cannot afford to eat at that restaurant. This is something I myself have to calculate when I’m deciding if I want to eat at a particular restaurant- if I have $15 I can’t go to a restaurant and order a $20 entrée and then refuse to pay the remaining cost, and likewise if I have $15 I can’t order a $15 entrée and expect not to pay the server for their service.

Now that doesn't mean families who can't afford a pricy restaurant can't eat out at all. Since it is a % of your bill you can try to go for a cheaper restaurant (smaller bill = smaller tip), or if you go to a counter service place where you serve yourself you’re not expected to tip 20% (sometimes they have a jar out you could kindly throw a dollar or more in, but there is much less expectation to tip because the workers at a place like that receive a full minimum wage, more on that in a sec). I will also say in my lived experience poor families in America understand and tip well, I’ve almost exclusively been under tipped by wealthy people (which is what kicked off the debate on twitter- if your bill is $700 then you obviously can afford to tip a full 20%, no destitute families are spending $700 on one meal).

Technically speaking you can get away with 18% as a tip, and if you go down to 15% your waiter will think you’re cheap and be annoyed (15% definitely implies you were unhappy with their service) but that is the lowest possible threshold of acceptability. 10% is not an acceptable rate here, and 20% is now the expected norm for good service, and going up from there for great service. And I would never, ever not tip at all. I can only imagine not tipping if like the server had done something deeply offensive or dangerous or something. I've never encountered a situation where I felt the server didn't deserve any tip at all.

Because you’ve asked in genuine good faith I’m going to provide some more context to help you understand a bit more why this is the way it is-

Waitstaff in america are wildly underpaid. Our federal government assumes the tips are part of their expected income, and so a) they are taxed on assumed tips and b) it is legal to pay them less than standard minimum wage. Currently the tipped federal minimum wage is $2.13/hr. Now, states set their own individual rates so some states do better, but $2.13/hr is the lowest they can all legally go. And you’ll notice in that link it mentions the assumed tips and taxing them. I said on my original post, when I worked as a tipped waitress I made $2.68/hr and sometimes my biweekly paycheck was like $60 total. Imagine trying to survive on $120 a month, you absolutely cannot. Tips made up my actual wage, and were the paycheck I depended on to pay for my basic needs. I relied directly on customers to choose to do the social convention of tipping for survival, and when someone would choose to do otherwise it was utterly devastating.

Another thing customers sometimes don’t realize is your waiter may not be allowed to keep all of the tip themselves. It’s a common practice to pool tips amongst all the waitstaff and then divide them equally, and many places require that you tip out other employees there. So if you give me $10 as a tip I might be actually giving a large chunk of that to bussers, bartenders, etc. Or maybe we pool tips and someone else stiffed my colleague so now all of us are sharing your $10 tip. So also keep in mind that the money you leave as a tip very often does not go entirely to the actual waiter, so a big tip can actually become pretty small much faster than you would think.

(and that's just legal practices, wage theft and illegal practices run rampant in the restaurant industry, just fyi)

If you are wondering why tipping culture here is so grim, it is because of slavery. Tipping got big here as a way to keep forcing Black Americans into working for free, now with a small tip but still no actual wage. It was designed for oppression. Waitstaff are overwhelmingly not wealthy people. It is very common for them to be on food stamps, require housing assistance, or to otherwise be living under the poverty line. If you are eating out and not tipping because you yourself are poor, you are taking money out of someone else’s poverty wages to do so. When we debate minimum wage here in america, conservatives are really good at painting a picture of waitstaff being perky middle class college kids making an extra buck, or teens from wealthy homes wanting some spending money. There is an implication that they don't really need the money that badly. That is not the reality of who makes up most serving jobs in america. Minimum wage workers are likely to be in poverty, they’re likely to be women and specifically they’re likely to be women of color. Americans of color are significantly more likely to be working at minimum wage than white americans. There is a pretty sizeable number of minimum wage workers who are over 50, and a not insignificant amount of them who are mothers who support their families. There are also those teens who just want extra cash, and they deserve good compensation for their hard work too, don’t get me wrong, but they are only a portion of who makes up the minimum wage workforce.

If you’re like “But that’s such a shitty system, you’re saying it’s pitting poor people against each other for basic human comforts!” yup. I 100% agree. I am a vocal proponent of raising the minimum wage for that reason. I also advocate for a Universal Basic Income, because I understand that when it comes to small mom & pop restaurants the owners aren’t always making a ton of money either and it seems like truly no one is winning in this system. It is set up to oppress and to demean and to grind us all down. There are lots of orgs in America that are fighting to improve the system, or to radically change the system. There are also restaurants that have tried to do things differently- there’s a wine bar in my city that says specifically on their menu that their wine is more expensive because they pay their workers a true livable wage so there is no tipping there. Instead as a customer I pay a higher upfront cost that covers the true expense of running the bar- including server wages. I love that, I wish more places would do things like that. In the meantime, when I’m choosing where to eat I factor in a tip of 20% when calculating my estimated bill, because paying for service is part of the cost.

Refusing to tip fully in america is not doing anything to change the system. It does not make restaurant owners rethink their pay structure, it does not put pressure on our government to fix minimum wage, it does not make a political statement. It just means your server is going home wondering if they can afford their own meal that night.

Thank you for asking for clarity, I hope this helps. Please feel free to ask more if you have any remaining confusion or are curious about other aspects of american culture. If I can answer and the questions are respectful, I am happy to reply!

[typellblog]

Kizumonogatari - An Analysis

You could consider Bakemonogatari as a template of sorts for what a Monogatari arc ‘should’ look like. 

There’s Koyomi, our protagonist, and then there’s a girl, and the problem faced by her in the form of an oddity. There’s Koyomi’s fumbling attempts to help her, contrasted by Oshino Meme’s actually useful advice. Oddities appear for a reason. She’s not a victim, not exactly. Koyomi always figures it out a little too late, and in the end all he can do is watch as she just goes ahead and saves herself. 

Nonetheless, his presence is key. He’s the one who reaches out, who actually makes the attempt to help. Oshino would never solve such problems of his own volition, not when the situation is so neatly balanced with oddities that act according to their functions and people who conjured them out of their own wishes. Koyomi is the one that recognises people’s desire to be saved, even if they try to push him away at first. 

There are some quirks to this within the Bake arcs themselves, but when you line up Kizu next to them, the way it transforms this fundamental formula is like night and day.

Koyomi Vamp

For one thing, this time the one that encounters an oddity is Koyomi himself.

The encounter itself was random, but as Koyomi puts it, the following events were only made possible because it was him. There aren’t many humans that would give up their lives for a dying vampire.

He’s motivated, in part, by a sense of worthlessness. His own life is that little of a thing. He thinks he’s ruined it already, and hopes to do better in his next reincarnation. But the way he puts it is interesting. He’ll be someone glib, who dances around relationships, who doesn’t feel guilt, who doesn’t worry about things, who insists on getting his way and blames his problems on other people.

We see a contrast being developed between being a ‘good’ person and a happy one. To Koyomi his conscience, his attentiveness to others, his overthinking are all burdens. They’re the reason why he can’t easily form relationships.

Making friends would ‘lower his intensity as a human’. If having friends allows one to share in their happiness, he points out that we must also share in their unhappiness, take their suffering upon oneself in some way or another. Anything less would be shallow – at least to Koyomi, whose loner attitude conceals a shocking ability to dedicate himself to others.

This contradiction drives him to suicide.

It is, functionally speaking, suicide. He doesn’t express any suicidal ideation before meeting Kiss-Shot, things aren’t so bad for him that he’s actively considering ending it, but nonetheless when put in a situation that allows him to give up his life, he does so.

This is really what is being referred to when he calls it a ‘hellish’ summer break. Just purely looking at the events that took place, one might question whether it really deserves that title, especially compared to some of the experiences we see him go through in Bake. After all, he’s not in much real danger for most of it. The vampire hunters are scary, but not the most difficult opponents.

No, where the summer break of Kizumonogatari really earns the moniker of a ‘hell’ is in how Koyomi is so thoroughly isolated from humanity. Vampires walk at night, they exist within a different world, they aren’t treated as human, their very presence is a danger to humans, and into that situation is thrust Koyomi Araragi, who is already so hopeless about his ability to interact with others that he freely offered up all the blood in his body.Traditionally, though,  the question that vampirism asks about this situation is how do you feel about it? Isn’t it great not having to worry about stuff like that anymore? Being isolated from humanity is also a freedom from responsibility, restriction, limitation – as represented by the vampire’s supernatural abilities. But from beginning to end, Koyomi desires none of this. His goal of returning to being human doesn’t change.

Iron-blooded, hot-blooded, yet cold-blooded

This is where the three vampire hunters are interesting.

A sentence I never expected to type going into this, honestly.

Why, though? In theory they’re important antagonists to this arc. But as characters within the overall Monogatari series, they languish at the bottom of the faves tierlists.

No doubt being men doesn’t help. They’re not ‘arc characters’, their relationships with Koyomi never get developed in the same way those of female characters do. Men are reserved for antagonists almost entirely in this series, and if you’ll permit me to be a bit speculative I would argue that it’s because women represent an ‘other’ that he’s trying to connect to, while the men are alternative versions of himself.

Take Episode, for example. Like Koyomi, he’s trapped between two different worlds. He resents both humans and vampires, and that emotion is what motivates him to hunt. He’s hot-blooded, if you will. Hanekawa is hurt during their battle, and Koyomi’s emotional response almost brings him to the point of killing Episode.

On the other hand, we have Guillotine Cutter. Unlike the other two, he’s fully human. He’s also far more vicious and underhanded. Cold-blooded, if you will. To defeat him, Koyomi must become literally inhuman. Becoming a plant is something that he’s been thinking about for a while, long before he became a vampire. Koyomi wanted to become something inhuman, to be free from his social responsibilities, for a long time. But now that he’s a vampire it’s precisely his connections with people like Hanekawa that make him want to turn back. 

The progression where Koyomi becomes more vampire-like to defeat increasingly human opponents feels like it’s commenting on how the more vampiric he gets the more callous he becomes until you realise the exact opposite holds for the hunters.

Dramaturgy, the full-blooded vampire, is the most reasonable of the bunch. He offers a path forward for Koyomi, the opportunity to become like him. The fact that Koyomi turns him down regardless shows that this was never about how humane the opponent, nor how many parts vampire they were. ‘If you want to stay human, then you’re human,” Oshino says.  Iron blood flows in them all, and from the beginning to the end this was about nothing more than protecting Kiss-Shot Acerola-Orion Heart-Under-Blade.

Kiss-Shot Acerola-Orion Heart-Under-Blade

Koyomi says that Kiss-Shot is someone whose meaning changes based on the observer. To the vampire hunters, she is a monster that ought to be killed. To Koyomi, she is a victim that ought to be protected. To Oshino, she represents a disruption to the balance between humans and oddities. 

Probably the most important way in which Kiss-Shot's mercurial nature is demonstrated in Kizumonogatari is through the various physical forms she adopts, growing in apparent age as she regains her lost limbs.

It's easy to see her as a child, perhaps even in her adult form. She's whimsical, prone to sudden bursts of emotion. There's a lot of things she lacks experience in. Koyomi meeting her bleeding out on the street might have been the first time she ever feared for her life. It's explicitly stated that Koyomi giving up his life for her is the first time another person did something for her sake. And as a result her decision to spare his life and make him a thrall seems to be one of the few times she's ever cared for the life of another person. With that in mind, it’s not difficult to understand why Koyomi seeks to protect her. 

On the other hand, her disregard towards human life is not feigned. She asks Koyomi to come and give her his blood without really considering what his motivations might be for following such an order. Humans are essentially bugs to her - Meme's stealing of her heart is forgiven instantly. She doesn't hold a grudge, the only thing that matters is whether she has it back or not. Eating Guillotine Cutter was not a deliberate strategy to make Koyomi want to kill her, she simply did so as if it was the most natural thing in the world. With that in mind, it’s not difficult to understand why the vampire hunters seek to slay her. 

Kiss-Shot is in many ways set apart from the oddities of Bakemonogatari. They derive their existence from humans, appear when they’re called on. They exist for a reason, and in doing so form their own kind of uneasy balance with the afflicted person.  In comparison Kiss-Shot feels more real, affixed more firmly to the world, a character in her own right. With that in mind, it’s not difficult to understand why Oshino wants to balance her. 

In doing so, he forces her to latch on to Koyomi Araragi, to offer him a ‘solution’ for his problems in the same way as any other oddity, and to become dependent on him to achieve her goals.

Oshino successfully mediates between Koyomi, who wants to save her, and the vampire hunters, who want to kill her, through the simple fact that she herself has reached a perfect balancing point between these two goals. She wants Koyomi to rescue her from the vampire hunters so she can die on her own terms. 

I mentioned Koyomi's suicidality earlier, but this story is also driven by how it manifests for Kiss-Shot. She became bored. It's the most common killer of vampires. When she talks with Koyomi on the roof, she says she has nothing interesting to talk about. Her long life has simply consisted of running around and fighting vampire hunters. The fact she wants to talk to Koyomi at all is significant, here. Not about anything in particular. She just wants to chat to someone. 

For all the differences between them, Kiss-Shot, too, is driven to suicide by an inability to connect to those around her, even if she doesn't consciously recognise it as such.

With that in mind, it’s not difficult to understand why Koyomi forces her to live, at the very end.

Hanekawa Tsubasa

Last time, with Tsubasa Cat, one element of the openings that I didn't touch on was how they show Hanekawa in positions that seemed like she might be about to take her own life. High places, train tracks. I didn't bother bringing it up, because it was getting late and also it didn't really seem to feature outside the openings, but here in Kizu it becomes more apparent.

She says, directly, that she wouldn’t call someone a friend if she wasn’t ready to die for them. This is a lie, she's talking about Koyomi specifically, but at least in his case she does die for him, intervening in his fight with Episode and having her torso blown apart by his giant cross. She offers to let Koyomi drink her blood. She intervenes again when he's fighting Kiss-Shot, with seemingly little regard for her own life. Both Oshino and Koyomi can agree that it's honestly kinda creepy.

The motivations behind her behaviour can be distinguished from Koyomi and Kiss-Shot, but there is another similarity: lack of friends.

It's somewhat inconceivable, after spending so much time in Koyomi's perspective, given such an idealised picture of her, but it seems apparent that she struggles with a similar problem to his own. She might be on good terms with a lot of people, she certainly knows a lot of people, but how many of them really know her? There's a reason why she's always alone on her night-time walks. 

She says she wanted to meet a vampire. The idea of something beyond human, something that isn't limited in the same ways she is, is an exciting idea to her. According to Kuro, at least, it's a way of breaking her out of her ordinary everyday life.

The thing about Hanekawa, I am slowly beginning to grasp, is that just because she tries to act normal, that doesn’t mean she has normal reactions to things. Rather, she treats the situation she finds herself in as if its normal and acts accordingly, leading to lines such as ‘he only hit me once, it’s perfectly understandable’, or acceding to requests to see her panties with almost zero hesitation, or treating someone sucking your blood and killing you as a totally normal thing to let your friend do, even when she’s clearly motivated by some special consideration towards Koyomi.

It’s a facade that doesn’t just mask her true feelings, but twists them into something else. She says that she never lies, something which is obviously untrue, but in a sense she’s always convincing herself, on one level or another, that she genuinely believes the things she’s saying.

This interacts interestingly with the series’ approach to fanservice. So far it’s mostly been played straight - with Hachikuji it’s a gag, with Nadeko it feels gratuitous, and stuff like Hitagi undressing in front of Koyomi is just that - here’s her naked body, look at it if you want. There’s a reason why she does that, but it doesn’t really connect to any deeper themes, it’s just there.

With Hanekawa in Kizu it is again gratuitous, it is again used for comedy, it is again just there because Nisio just wanted to do it, but the way Hanekawa’s brain works adds an interesting level to it. She’s surprisingly unbothered by the first instance where the wind flips her skirt, going so far as to deliberately engage Koyomi in conversation afterwards.

By the time of the second main incident, we’ve developed the idea that Koyomi is ashamed by his lust for her. He tries to push her away on the grounds that he’s too dangerous to be friends with, and the bluffed request for her to show her panties again feels in line with this, somehow. He’s trying to prove to her that he isn’t really the sort of guy she should bother herself with. 

She nonetheless takes the request completely seriously. It’s not that she’s just that literal-minded, she clearly knows what’s going on in Koyomi’s head (better than he does, sometimes), this is just her general pattern of behaviour when responding to him. Rather than setting boundaries, she indicates that she doesn’t really have any. This successfully shocks him out of the idea that he actually presents a danger to her. When it comes down to it he’s not actually going to look at a girl’s panties after being so brazenly presented with them. He’s kind of a coward. 

Hanekawa, on the other hand, Koyomi considers cool, someone who can decide on a course of action and stick with it. She isn’t swayed by silly whims like he is. In one sense, it’s true, but it’s also a reflection of the way he idolizes her. Hanekawa herself states that it’s not self-sacrifice, but self-satisfaction. Her actions, in this novel, aren’t directed towards any particular sort of justice, a particular perspective on Kiss-Shot, like Koyomi, Oshino, and the vampire hunters are motivated by. She is more or less just trying to help Koyomi, to be liked by him, even if it requires her to do absolutely ridiculous things like let him grope her boobs. 

One line I want to emphasize from that scene is Hanekawa’s offhand remark that she was prepared to lose her virginity. It’s presented as a joke but I’m fairly sure she’s not lying! It doesn’t present a particular desire to have sex with Koyomi, just a sort of resignation to the fact that this is the inevitable consequence of letting him do whatever he wants with her. I’m not saying she’s not attracted to him at all - I mean, she does feel up his muscles a bit earlier - but her vision of how this relationship will progress seems to be entirely on Koyomi’s terms. Which proves to be a bit awkward for her when Hitagi enters the picture later, but I digress. 

Her reaction to Koyomi’s hilariously stupid reasoning for why he needs to cop a feel (so that he doesn’t get distracted by Kiss-Shot’s enormous breasts when fighting her) is that it was even stupider than she was expecting. Because she was expecting a stupid justification, and is preparing herself to accept it regardless!

He doesn’t end up going through with it, which is probably better for the both of them all things considered, but does once again establish Koyomi as a massive coward. 

In any case, I really think these fanservice scenes help establish Hanekawa as a character who is willing to objectify herself for the sake of approval from others. That’s not to say she’s easily influenced, but rather that the self-satisfaction that she’s chasing, the life she’s chosen, is one where she’s constantly required to sacrifice her self.

Self-sacrifice and self-satisfaction

Again, this contrast between being a good person and a ‘happy’ one. The hypothetical ‘truly’ self-sacrificing person would do so to satisfy the desires of others, not just their own.

What Koyomi did for Kiss-Shot may have been beautiful, he says, but it wasn’t right. He saw the situation in the way that was most convenient for him, only chose to help the person that looked like she needed saving and ignored the consequences to anyone else. 

As long as I was weak, Kiss-Shot says. As long as they’re weak, as long as they look like they’re suffering, Koyomi would save anyone. 

Like Hanekawa puts it, he just doesn’t like it when people die. Even though he wouldn’t mind that much if he did. 

Previously I've discussed how Hitagi's oddity led to, and in doing so came to represent, her isolation and inability to connect with others. Koyomi's vampirism does something similar. He talks a big game about how having friends might increase the burden on him, but isn't the thing he's most worried about here that he might become a burden on his friends, that they would give up too much for him, that his selfish, vampiric nature would influence him into draining them dry? 

Vampirism doesn’t represent a freedom from social connections, it makes you far more reliant on humans than you were already. Not in the sense of having a mutual relationship with them, but a one-way predator-prey dynamic. 

This is why Koyomi barely even considers Kiss-Shot responsible for her actions. It's only natural that she, as a vampire, would eat humans. It's necessary for her survival. She herself doesn't understand it to be evil, so the only one he can blame is himself for enabling her to do so. 

It's a dysfunctional relationship. He takes Kiss-Shot's burdens upon himself precisely because of his intensity as a human. She herself doesn't feel burdened by the deaths she causes at all. Because she's a vampire.

It's Hanekawa that saves him by saying that it would be running away from his responsibilities and that the only solution is for him to be the one to defeat Kiss-Shot. For him to die here would just be self-satisfaction, the sacrifice wouldn’t achieve anything. 

But look at how she approaches this.

She sees Koyomi's fear of becoming a danger to people around him and accepts it instantly. He can eat her, if he wants. It’s a similar thing to the fanservice scenes. Setting no boundaries, reminding Koyomi that he, in fact, isn’t that willing to hurt other people. 

Koyomi isn't put in the position of needing to understand Hanekawa, of desperately trying to connect with her. She's the one that insists on helping him. He's the one that tries to throw her off, act as though her kindness isn't needed.

To Koyomi, Hanekawa is the one doing an unwanted favour, one that he eventually realises is what saved his life. 

Because Koyomi, unlike the previous arcs, isn’t the one that has to help a person dealing with the oddity. The one dealing with the oddity is him. Hanekawa is the one who supports and reaches out to him. But she can’t solve the problem for him. She can’t make the decision.

In the end, all he can do is go ahead and save himself.

Kizumonogatari

Why do vampires even work like that, anyway? 

That thralls are made by default when sucking blood, and to avoid turning someone, the vampire can consume them entirely, makes sense. It allows for the drama of realising that Kiss-Shot deliberately kept Koyomi as a thrall. It also ensures that Kiss-Shot’s existence is, no way how you go about it, a crime. To feed she must kill, or else turn more people into vampires.

But the only way of turning back to a human - the way that Hanekawa could apparently find by looking it up in the library - is to feed from the one who turned you, and kill them. A symbolic act of defying their control. (In the same way that patting Kiss-Shot’s head is an important proof of subjugation?) 

Here, though, it’s presented as something that Kiss-Shot was planning to do to Koyomi, a technique of freeing one’s thrall that she gained the ability to use since her first died.

It all goes full circle. Being a vampire is about dying. For Koyomi, who was killed by Kiss-Shot to become one. For Kiss-Shot, who seeks to die in order to change him back. 

There’s a sense of balance to it. No doubt Oshino was pleased. Vampires are the Kings of Oddities, beings powerful enough that they don’t really have to follow the rules, but at the same time, they’re self-balancing. 90% of vampire deaths are by suicide. 

Oddities are, by nature, self-balancing. It’s why Oshino doesn’t go seeking them out of his own accord. Perhaps he can’t. He’s just an intermediary between here and there, after all. He has to be contacted by one side to start the process. There has to be some evidence of unhappiness, of a desire to change the situation. 

Koyomi is put in this position time and time again in Bakemonogatari, asking Oshino to intervene on the behalf of the people he encounters. 

Yet in Kizumonogatari, he is, from start to end, not on the side of any person. He’s on the side of the monsters. It’s on Kiss-Shot’s behalf that he begs Oshino to intervene, because a balance that forces one party to suffer alone is not a balance he can abide.

He can’t save Kiss-Shot. He can’t end her suffering. If anything, you can argue he made it worse. 

What he can do is take a portion of her burden on himself, literally lower his ‘intensity as a human’ by retaining some of his vampire traits, and keep her alive. He keeps traces of the wound she inflicted on him, in exchange for the wounds he inflicts on her lasting forever as well. “Damaged goods both, we sought out each other.” They each have a bit of themselves missing now, something they can only find in each other. 

It’s selfishness, unquestionably. He’s fine with that. He knows he’s doing something that will hurt her. He’s fine with that. 

That’s the difference. The fear of his own vampiric selfishness is gone now. For better or worse, from this point he’s okay with being a bit insistent in getting to know people, not afraid of possibly hurting them in an attempt to help. 

He’s persistent in pursuing Hitagi, not just because his vampire abilities allow him to recover from the wounds she inflicts, but because his experience as a vampire reminds him how low someone can be dragged by isolation, and how much someone stretching out a hand can help. 

Coming into Kizumonogatari it feels like Bakemonogatari’s vampiric inversion, but by the end it’s clearly more like a prototype, at least when it comes to Koyomi’s attitude. His first stumbling attempts at helping.

And that’s all for now. No funny anime pictures this time! It was a deliberate choice, I promise, not because I just forgot to take screenshots while rewatching the movies (oops . . . ). But, I mean, I barely touched on the adaptation in this essay anyway, preferring to work off the text of the novel where possible. Considering the level of artistry on display in the movies, they probably deserve their own post. Which I will not be making any time soon, because oh my god I want to get to Nise already. 

[teaboot]

15 Questions 15 Mutuals

Tagged by @lost-and-cused 💛

Are you named after anyone? Yes, a musician my mother met in Russia!

When was the last time you cried? Huh. I think like, two months back? Trigun '98 episode 23. If you know you know. (I am wrapping u up in a blanket.)

Do you have kids?  Nope! I think I might like to be a foster parent someday, though, once I have the money and the time do it properly.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? I- huh. I was gonna say yes, but honestly, not much in the last few years? I used to be so snarky and biting, like, all the time. It must have been really exhausting for the people around me. Now I think mostly it's just when I'm venting. Wild!

What sports do you play/have played?  I dunno if it's a sport if I don't compete but I enjoy martial arts! I do BJJ sometimes but I'm not very good at it, it's just for fun. Oh, and I was on a basketball team for a couple years, but I'm 5'3" and still don't know the rules so I think I was mostly just just for the body count, lol

What's the first thing you notice about other people?  Demeanor. Are you calm or tense? Loose or tightly-wound? Are you likely to explode if you encounter a perceived obstacle? Are you agreeable and easygoing? Or are you pent-up and raw and itching for a fight?

God, I don't think people realize how visibly LOUD they are when they're unhappy.

Some people are like music, moving along to their own little beat or tune, and then a heavy, harsh note walks in and you just KNOW they'll fuck up the rhythm if you brush too close. It's wild. Are they aware of it? Do they care? Who knows.

What's your eye colour?  Brown! Sorta like.... hmmmm. #622a0f in the middle, with a darker ring around the outside. (Never did relate to the 'brown eyes are boring' gang, always liked mine too much. Then again, I was the only one in my family with brown eyes, so maybe it was that.)

Scary movies or happy endings? Scary movies WITH happy endings? But no, actually, I hate watching horror movies. I LIKE them, I think a lot of them are very good and it's an underrated genre, I just. Don't enjoy being scared. Or sad.

Any special talents?  I'm an artist- I enjoy watercolor, acrylic, and India ink as painting mediums, I'm rather good at realistic stippling, I'm decent at identifying animal bones, I enjoy sculpting and sewing and needle-felting, I'm finally at a point where I like to read my own writing, I enjoy interior design and have been told I'm good at it, I'm a pretty good cook, and I've been told I'm a decent singer! I can also fold incredibly tiny origami cranes, and pick up on new languages well enough for simple use.

And I be far more proud of any number of these things if I did them a little more often.

As it is, I sleep a lot.

Where were you born? British Columbia, Canada!

What are your hobbies? Lord, too many. I'm actually sewing a new battle jacket right now, and animating a short video. Also writing fan fiction. And reading! And I like to collect antique books and handmade ceramics and theater masks. And go antiquing. And I'm still learning to knit? Hhhhhhhhrrrrnnggfn I wish I could have a year off to just. Do things. I wanna take a pottery class! And do metalwork again!! I used to love making chain jewelry. Oh, I do beadwork sometimes! And paint! And I'm sloooooowly designing a guest room. Bfyvxuhfhgtjggjhgyu

Do you have any pets? Yes! Big baby bird cat. He lives out of the country now, though.

How tall are you? 160cm!

Favourite subject at school?  Art. And Metalwork. And Psychology. And Literary Analysis. (And lunch break.)

Dream job?  Okay so imagine this: There's a VERY rich eccentric hell-bent on accumulating strange art, and by some miracle they are both mentally stable and not a gigantic dickhead. They travel a lot and don't really enjoy socializing so I don't have to kiss their ass.

Twice a month I receive an automatic deposit into my bank account and in return, all they want is a reasonably steady continued production of literally whatever art. Portraits, statues, robotics, ceramics, conceptual shit, costumes, carvings, literally whatever.

And they'll cover educational expenses for it all so I can go back to college and learn screen printing and 3D animation and use the kiln and shit forever and ever, and take up apprenticeships at tattoo parlors and volunteer as a face painter and pick up photography, and just create as much beauty and love and confusion and joy as I possibly can forever and ever and ever until I die.

And I'll have enough money to own my own apartment that I'll paint in all my favourite colors, with murals and everything, and have a cat who I will of course spoil rotten, and maybe adopt a few weird and goofy kids who'll have sleepovers with their friends in the living room and play new bad music that I pretend to hate, and when they fuck up and do stupid shit like kids do, maybe I'll handle it better than my adults did.

And maybe if they like making stuff too, I can make stuff with them. And maybe I'll get to see them do it better than me. And maybe I'll get to see them do everything better than me. And maybe they'll be happier, too.

So, uh. I guess I'd like to be an artist. A sugar baby-artist? Sugar baby artist combo. I'd like to have a patron is what I mean. A sponsor. Yeah

Fifteen Mutuals*: @Melancholysage @Genderfuckedpigeon @Raspbrrytea @Qthewhatever @Sternenhimmel-mond @Mythosandsuch @Anunholymessofagirl @Ifitistobeitisuptous @Here-you-can-read-my-feelings @Meat-puddle @Catgirlwarrior @Rodeokid @Not-fae-no-sir @Inbox847 @Pip-53

*I have no idea if we're all mutuals but take this anyways

[greentrickster]

I've seen a number of people on my Beloathed and Darling thread go on tangents in the tags where the Villainess and Prince's parents are both bad actually because it turns out the whole system is corrupt/cultish/evil and the kids, by breaking free of it, are actually the good guys. And, I'm gonna be real... I always hide those reblogs. Because 1) I don't want to see them built on (and it's my thread, so I'm allowed) and, more importantly, 2) ...it completely misses the point of the concept.

Yes, the main purpose of Darling and Beloathed is 'aesthetic' and 'cute fun couple,' but, at a slightly deeper look, it's also a story about two people with extremely conflicting world views and moral codes deciding to not only be together, but figuring out how to be together in such a way that neither of them has to truly compromise their beliefs in order to do so. It's about two people, one who is undeniably a good person and the other who is unapologetically evil, deciding to make it work without anything like a redemption arc or the discovery that actually both sides are wrong and they need to find a new, third way to exist. Because if the system itself is evil, then it kind of undermines all the work they've put in to find the pre-existing places of overlap and figure out what parts of their lifestyles they're willing to compromise on to make their partner comfortable without making themselves unhappy.

And that, to me, is a far more interesting concept overall, because it's something we're much more likely to encounter in real life. None of us are ever going to tear down an entire government's worth of systems with the help of love and a couple spunky friends; it's fun to read about, it has its place in literature, but it's not gonna happen. In contrast, there's a very good chance that one day we'll meet a person whom we really like, really enjoy spending time with, but whose views on religion/politics/sports/character ships/whatever are completely at odds with our own, with neither of us willing to change our opinions, no matter how much we like that person in other regards.

And that's when we'll have to decide whether we're just going to stop hanging out, or whether, like the Prince and Villainess, we can find a way to make it work while respecting both ourselves and each other. Sometimes reality isn't about redemption, systemic change, or harsh, gritty truths. Sometimes it's about having the breathtaking courage to acknowledge that a person will never be like you, but being able to love them anyway.

[omegapheromone]

I was thinking about this post and the ensuing conversation about retail and customer service workers. In the notes there is a lot of talk about the more scent-oriented stuff, but in this post, I wanna talk about something else that occurred to me.

Karens/Kevins in Omegaverse.

I should immediately state that I'm not from the US, so my personal experiences with Karens may differ somewhat, and my overall understanding of the "trope" or "personality type" is based on both my own non-US experiences and personal anecdotes and stories/footage/other posts I've encountered online. To me it seems Karens are quite universal and have very similar traits regardless of where in the world you are (entitlement, selfishness, bigoted opinions, thinking themselves better than others and just the sheer audacity), but I figured I should state I'm not personally familiar with the US Karen specifically, only through online accounts of encounters.

Anyhow! In the post I linked above I talked about the concept of "alpha males" and "incels" except translated into actual omegaverse- but I don't think I've ever seen anyone talk about what KARENS (or just, shitty not-alpha-male or incel/niceguy/nicegirl types) would be like in Omegaverse. Here are some things I personally feel like would be very common to Karens and Kevins, and the different kinds of them one might encounter.

Types Of Karens in Omegaverse/A/B/O/+

(Or in other words, a look at different types of shitty people in general, using the term Karen/Kevin rather generously.)

*note: while I'm classifying the different types of Karens into omega/beta/alpha, it doesn't mean that all Karens of said type MUST be of the dynamic mentioned- any dynamic or subdynamic can express the behaviors of a specific Karen-type, it's just more common for certain dynamics to embody a specific stereotypical karen-ness.

Omega (Ω) Karen, type: "Bitter"/"Bitter&Entitled"

Often, when speaking about "Karens", this is the type that comes into mind first. Karens of this type are the most likely to be similar to the perfect stereotype of a soccer mom parent, who believes they're entitled to anything and everything simply because they exist. They will not hesitate to use their kids/pups as an excuse to demand special treatment, and are exactly the type to berate a teacher for their own brat misbehaving in class, because "my McKaylwynn could NEVER, she's an ANGEL!". Almost always, they are trying very hard to live through their own kids, and often show favouritism towards any alpha children they may have. These are the type who will wonder why their kids move out at 18 and almost never talk to them. These Karens almost always stay in unhappy marriages at any cost, as they believe their alpha is what gives them their status and worth to a large extent, and often factors such as religious views on divorce being bad or a belief of bonding being "for life" is a part of this. They can, and in many cases DO cheat on their partners, however (and the partner likely does the same anyway). Military wives (the stereotypical kind) are a subtype of this Karen.

Usually, on the inside, these Karens are bitter omegas who grew up in conservative enviroments and internalized the idea that their purpose is to have kids. Now that they've had those kids, they feel entitled to special treatment, because they've supposedly been a "model omega" and believe that they deserve to be praised. These Karens are the type to ask other (often young) omega family members invasive questions during family gatherings, and tell them "they'll get it when they have pups of their own!". These Karens also cannot fathom the idea that an omega may choose to remain child-free, and does not approve of any same-dynamic relationships, especially omega/omega ones, as they believe it's "just a phase" and "they just need to meet the right Alpha to change their minds".

Deep down, as I mentioned, these Karens are likely just extremely bitter individuals, who have convinced themselves their lives are "good" and that they are "happy" because it follows the conservative ideal for an omega's role. Almost certainly, these Karens actually had dreams and ambitions of their own that were squashed by the enviroment they grew up and lived in, so now they are hellbent on taking out that bitterness on anyone who dares to step outside the mold for the "ideal omega", even more so if those individuals are clearly happy doing what THEY want. Usually, these Karens aren't aware of any of this however, so introspection and therapy are rarely going to help as their protective barrier of entitlement and self-impotance is simply too strong at this point.

Common phrases of the Bitter & Entitled Karen:

"I want to talk to your manager!"

"The HOA rules clearly state that..."

"Don't you KNOW who my husband is????"

"You'll get it when you have children of your own."

"Excuse me, don't you see that my child wants to play with your (valuable personal item, i.e. phone). Give it to them NOW! They're a CHILD! They deserve it MORE!"

"What do you mean you don't sell organic, dairy-free, gluten-free, gmo-free butter here? I want to speak to the owner of this place."

"Speak (language), this is (country), or go back to where you came from!!!"

"My husband knows the mayor. I will have you fired for talking like that to my precious child! They are NOT a bully, they would NEVER do something like that!!! Are you saying I raised MY CHILD badly? Do you even have kids of your OWN?"

"I shouldn't have to WAIT for service, don't you see I have KIDS?"

"Those two alphas shouldn't be holding hands in public, it'll confuse my child"

"My child started saying they're 'transdynamic' or something, I don't accept that kind of stuff in my house so I sent them to a camp to set them right. It was that or moving out at 15."

"No, my husband is never home, he's a BUSY man!"

"I wonder why my children don't talk to me"

Bonus: (Excessive use of a public f*cebook profile where they share increasingly personal details and very misinformed articles and talk about how it's the fault of 5G/gay people/vaccines/etc that their kids refuse to call them on mother's day)

☆

Omega (Ω) Karen, type: "self-centered" (outdated term: "Narcissistic")

This is another type of omega-dynamic Karen, however, this type is less focused on their offspring and the entitlement they feel over being a "good omega wife/partner/husband". They're also less of a traditional Karen in the sense that they'll rarely cause public disturbances that inconvenience others, but they definitely aren't incapable of doing that.

The "self-centered" type (Omega) Karens are usually the children of wealthy, or at least upper middle-class families, but this is not mandatory as they can be found in any and every "class" of society. It's mostly about how they were raised in said families, than the financial background: either very spoiled, or not really paid much attention to and given no rules as a kid. These Karens also tend to be women, though exceptions exist- this is mostly because they've grown up believing themselves to be superior to especially Beta, but also Alpha females. Male omegas of this subtype exist as well, however their sense of superiority often comes from a deep sense of insecurity, and they've adopted the self-centered personality as a defense mechanism against said insecurity.

These Karens are demanding, self-centered, and have a sense of superiority over everyone except maybe people in high positions in society. Almost certainly, they were a "mean girl" or bully at some point in their life, and you can often find these types of Omega Karens going into nursing, child-care, and other traditionally "omega" professions: not because they enjoy it, but rather, because they enjoy the power they have on the people under their care. This is the main difference between this type of Karen and the previous type; These ones tend to use their status as an omega to their advantage, rather than their children/husbands/role as a "model omega wife"/etc like the Bitter one might.

Unlike the more conservatively-minded "Bitter Karen", these "self-centered" Karens are not afraid of break-ups or divorce, and often actually use it as a threat to manipulate their partners. These Karens are less likely to use the "don't you KNOW who my husband is?!?!" Sentence, but will do so if they happen to be dating someone even moderately important (which could mean anything from "the general manager at the local grocery store" to "talked to the mayor's secretary once" to someone ACTUALLY important, such as a CEO or the mayor, etc.) Often, if these Karens end up having children, it's to try to baby trap someone, whether it works or not. They usually don't actually care about their kids at all, but WILL use them as ammo/shield for any criticism the same way a bitter Karen might. These Karens are also more likely to date Betas, unlike the previous type who often believes that an omega should only date an Alpha. The self-centered type Karen often is a more manipulative type, where they'll use others to get their way, while the bitter type tends to demand things more directly. Their goals also tend to be more about themselves than their status or kids, i.e. they may buy themselves luxury items while ignoring their own children's needs.

This Karen is somewhat less likely to fall for Antivaxx/Conspiracy theory stuff than the "bitter" type (however, not immune), but the ones that do usually end up being the especially dangerous "crystal mom" types. These Karens, unlike the Bitter type, still retain their own interests and hobbies, though these hobbies and interests almost always are centered around whatever will increase their status and make them seem more desirable and good. Their sense of "perfection" does not come from being the "perfect omega" as in mother and wife, but rather, being as desirable as possible, usually to alphas, but honestly, even a sufficiently well-off Beta will do. While many Karens of this type could be called gold-diggers who are attempting to climb the ranks of society, this isn't necessarily the case: rather, it's the APPEARANCE of being "better than", that drives them, in whichever social circle they happen to be in. This could mean becoming a recruiter for a MLM scheme, becoming the "leader" of their local crystal mom group on f*cebook that everyone looks up to for advice, posting to social media about going on (fake) luxury trips and about spending (nonexistent) money to induce envy in family members and so on. Basically, these Karens seek power and acceptance/admiration, or at least, the appearance of it- whether that is in the form of wealth, knowledge, or by being the head nurse at the local old folks home. They crave being envied and admired more than they crave actual status, hence why they're prone to exaggerating on social media. Often, this chronic desire for power is a result of growing up as an Omega and feeling powerless because of their status and enviroment- only to eventually realize they can actually use it to gain power. This type of Karen loves to use their scent/pheromones excessively to affect others around them, and doesn't like to be told to control their pheromones. They will claim a disease or state that their pheromones are just naturally strong and act like the victim, if told to reel it in for the sake of others.

**Various people may refer to this type of Karen as "Narcissistic" or "Narcissist", however, having NPD is not a requirement to behave this way, nor does having NPD automatically make anyone behave this way- it's considered offensive to Cluster B Personality Disorder sufferers to refer to these Karens this way, which is why "self-centered" is the appropriate term to use.

Common phrases of the Self-Centered Karen:

"Are you saying I'm a bad person? I did my best! It's not my fault you feel that way!"

"I'm going to break up with you if you don't ...."

"Heyyy girl!! Long time no chat bestie!!! So, I have this business proposal I was wanting to tell you about, ..."

"Umm, what do you mean I need to wear a scent blocker patch here, I'm allergic to the adhesive!!!"

"It can't hurt that much, shut up already. I already gave you paracetamol, just wait for the X-rays, will you? It's probably not even broken, jeez..."

"Umm what do you MEAN my coffee isn't ready, I'm gonna be late for work!!! I'll report you to the branch manager if you don't hurry up!"

(Posts a picture of a [possibly counterfeit] Louis Vuitton/etc expensive brand bag on instagram and facebook with a caption such as "love treating myself a little♡" or "a little gift from my darling😍", clearly trying to one-up someone or cause envy in gheir social circle)

"My pheromones are naturally really strong sorry :'( I caaaaan't do anything about it!"

"You don't know what it's like to raise three kids alone! I'm basically a super-mom! Just ask my kids!" (Forces the Kids to say their mom is their role model)

(Aggressively flirts with any alpha/beta in a nicely pressed suit in the hopes of luring in a lawyer/CEO/rich man)

"SHUT up Jessie, don't you see mommy/daddy's busy talking on the phone to someone? Go to your room already!"

"My Ex was so abusive" (the Ex was actually the victim)

☆

Beta (Β) Karen/Kevin, type: "hateful bigot"

This type of "Karen" is more likely to be of any gender, rather than usually being a woman, hence why Karen/Kevin in the title.

These Karens/Kevins are practically always Betas, however their gender (male/female/other) can be anything. The reason they're called the "Hateful" type is because this type embodies the "Beta that absolutely hates all alphas and omegas" stereotype seen in some works of fiction. Interestingly, this type can be divided further into two subgroups based on their political views- the conservative types have likely grown up in families that have instilled the belief that alphas and omegas are bad for generations, and their ideology tends to be more "alphas in power are always bad and entitled and are only there to make betas suffer and don't deserve their positions" and "omegas are disgusting sex creatures meant for making babies". Meanwhile, the more liberal type tends to mask their hatred of alphas and omegas under the guise of advocating for "equality", while in reality they still share a very similar view- that Alphas should be treated as "lesser than" because their positions of power seem "undeserved" and "gained through nepotism" (regardless of the actual circumstances. They simply believe that Alphas should NEVER be in power, no matter what) to these people. The more liberal subgroup often has less to say about omegas, given they're already often at a social disadvantage, but will occasionally pretend to campaign for "omega rights" as an attempt to have sex with omegas by appearing supportive. (A real-world equivalent would be men that pretend to support feminism in order to try to make themselves seem more progressive and thus desirable for women, even though deep down they don't actually care about feminism at all.)

This type of Karen/Kevin-ness usually forms from a deep-rooted sense of insecurity and inferiority, a belief that as a Beta, they're seen as secondary or unimportant (which, in modern society, is very rarely the actual case), and thus they find themselves hating all Alphas for the power they perceive Alphas to possess, and being disgusted by omegas because of the perceived lecherousness and sexualized idea of the omegas they have. It should be emphasized that this is all born from their personal perception of the world, either through their upbringing or negative personal encounters and/or some unadressed insecurities, and not the actual reality. This type of Kevin/Karen isn't actually all that common, but they do exist.

This type of Karen/Kevin is the type to scoff at or be rude towards workers of Alpha/Omega dynamics, no matter what their position is. An Alpha cashier might get a nasty look and be told they "probably didn't even apply for the job, just got accepted because they're an Alpha" and an Omega construction worker might get a nasty look because "what is that omega doing working a manual labor job, shouldn't they just be at home carrying pups for some shitty alpha, what if they go into heat in the job, also they're probably weaker than any Beta coworker anyway..." -the discrimination can come in any form, and occasionally, these Karens/Kevins can actually end up causing public disturbances just because they happened to have a bad day and took it out on the nearest alpha or omega just trying to do their job or mind their business.

Common Phrases of the Hateful Karen/Kevin:

"Aren't you ashamed? You stink of filthy omega/alpha pheromones, that's disgusting."

"I'll bet that Alpha CEO is a nepo baby who got her position because daddy was another rich Alpha as well"

"That omega celebrity is disgusting, who talks about slick and heats on national tv. They should lose their career."

"I bet you don't even know how to do your job, you just make others do it for you since you're an alpha."

"Why are omegas even allowed to be high school teachers, don't blame anyone but yourself if some young alpha goes into rut and takes it out on you. Your fault for being there as an omega. The alphas are just as bad. Why don't they just separate schools by dynamic, they used to do that back in my day..."

"Of course I support omega rights! It's so awful how much discrimination you guys face, honestly, it makes me feel so sad. Oh, by the way, I really like your scent, do you wanna hang out some time ;)?"

"Jeez, you work retail and can't even do your job right? I always knew Alphas were useless, and still get so much favouritism. I don't care if its your first day, you should know how to (do a difficult job task) already"

"Honestly I think we should just send all Alphas and Omegas to live on some isolated islands together. The society would be so much better with only Betas around."

☆

Alpha (Α) Karen/Kevin, type: "superiority complex"

This (almost always Alpha) Karen/Kevin is, unfortunately, like fuel to the fire of the "hateful bigot" beta Karens/Kevins. They share some similarities to the "alpha alpha-males" mentioned in the post linked at the beginning of this one, however, they're not exactly the same.

These Karens/Kevins come in a variety of different flavours and convictions, in the sense that some of them are flat out alpha supremacists, while some of them simply have this internalized belief of superiority that they aren't necessarily aware of, resulting in micro-aggressions and shitty behavior, but not necessarily flat out discrimination towards the other dynamics. This type is common for some specific families, who have a belief that they should try to keep their "Alpha Blood" pure by only having children with other Alphas- in some cultures this is a remnant of historical social structures and often specifically something family elders believe in. In other cultures, it's more of an individual family belief, where at some point it has simply become a custom because Alpha children were seen as more desirable and valuable (be it for labour at farms, for more education possibilities, etc) and thus marriage between female and male alphas was the encouraged pairing. Any beta or omega offspring would often get treated unfairly in families like this, and often, especially the male alphas of the family, would almost always go into the same profession (for example, lawyer, law enforcement, doctor, business, etc).

On the more severe end of the superiority complex karen/kevin spectrum, there are Alphas who genuinely believe Omegas should not work at all and that Betas are below Alphas in terms of rank and thus should obey whatever the Alphas demand. On the less severe end of the same spectrum, there are Alphas who don't necessarily consciously discriminate, but will make insensitive jokes, behave inappropriately towards omegas in work enviroments believing that the Omegas must like it or expect it since they're working there, and not really understanding why anyone thinks its a problem if an Alpha CEO favours hiring alphas, especially their own family member alphas, as the higher-up staff.

While this type is rarely a public menace, they share some similarities with "alpha male" alphas in the sense that they may harass omegas in public, though they'll often be a bit less trashy than your standard "alpha male guy"- these karens/kevins aren't too likely to catcall or yell obscenities at omegas who refuse to pay attention. Rather, these Karens/Kevins might interpret a customer service smile from an omega barista at the coffee shop as an invitation to keep coming back and being uncomfortably flirty with that specific barista even after they have expressed that they're simply doing their job. They may also be the type to stand uncomfortably close to omega coworkers and make belittling comments, for example questioning an omega's ability to perform a task as well as a beta or alpha, or recommending only menial tasks far below their skill levels to omegas working with them.

This specific type is actually more often a Kevin than a Karen, however both exist in fairly equal numbers.

Common Phrases of the "Superiority Complex" Karen/Kevin:

"You sure you can handle that, cutie? Isn't that something better suited for a Beta or an Alpha?"

"You're really smart/strong/etc for an Omega"

"I don't know if we can hire you, you're at that age where you'll probably start having pups soon and you'd have to miss work a lot because of them... maybe you can apply for something part-time instead? Or maybe your partner can just take care of you, you focus on delivering those healthy pups and being a good parent!"

"Well aren't you a cute omega, working in customer service like that! The regulars here must be coming back just to see you! I see why they hired you, must be great for the business to have a cute face like yours here!"

"Honestly, I don't really get why omegas wanna work so bad. They'll just end up having pups and being stay-at-home-parents eventually anyway?"

"Sorry, we don't hire omegas for positions like these, they're too demanding"

"You know, I could consider giving you a raise, in exchange for something you could do for me... of course, no pressure, but do consider it"

Note: these are just the more dynamic-specific ones I headcanon to exist- there are WAY more different kinds of Karens and Kevins than just these, I just wanted to come up with a few examples of my own of types that could be more prevalent in specific dynamics. You can see a lot of traditional/real-world sexism reflected in these specific tropes since it's something Omegaverse can often explore in different interesting ways, and I didn't go into a lot of detail since the post is already long. Feel free to add your own karen/kevin type headcanons, commentary, or observations in the reblogs/replies!!

[elphael]

hiya! I really appreciate a lot of your takes on D&D and DMing, and was wondering if you have tips or advice for the more improvisational/spur-of-the-moment aspects of being a DM? I'm interested in DMing a campaign but I'm worried about being able to respond to players' whack-ass choices on the fly in a way that's organic and non-railroad-y -- it feels as though the best DMs I've had are able to "improv" on the spot and come up with imagery or encounters or things for players to do if/when needed, and I'm not quite sure if I'm cut out for that, if that makes sense 😅 thanks for any advice!

spur of the moment / improv is something that was really hard for me to learn and to be honest i still don't think it's one of my strengths. i have a few tips and suggestions but i also just want to say, there is no real thing of "rail-roading" unless your players are unhappy, if you tell people "hey i actually don't have something prepped for that" above table there's a good chance they'll go "oh sorry" and you can nudge them in the direction you DO have preparation for so they have a story to engage with. i think above table conversation is just important as in game signposting as a dm

that being said here are a few tips that i think could help what you're getting at:

i don't prep a session or a linear plot, i prep an area. i've made a post here about what it looks like on a Storytelling level but this is sort of what it looks like in my notes:

specifically i learned that writing descriptions IS important for me but it's also important to be able to improv them and not work entirely off of a script, which is why you can see my descriptions is a blend of descriptive writing and then also actual lore.

i also have done this in the past and will probably bring it back for longer projects where i create a little box that has sensory descriptions that fit the setting and tone that i can refer back to

let your players describe their characters actions and spellcasting, especially in combat. you can encourage this by asking "what does x look like?" it's really exciting as a player to get to take that into your own hands and it is also one less thing to worry about while running combat.

throw out everything you think you should do. your favorite actual play dm's style? who cares, your cool dm's style? throw that one out too. you can take as much advice from people, can emulate other people's styles, take in as much information as you possibly can, but part of dming is figuring out what works for you. i am still constantly figuring out better ways for my brain to dm and different ways to organize information. i share the way i dm because i think it's WORTH putting out there, not because i think it will work for every single person. but even if there are a few things you see that a dm does that you like, That's Enough to start building your own foundation. don't be too hard on yourself.

if you need a second to prep something in the middle of campaign that you weren't expecting, you can SAY that. in the middle of combat on my halloween oneshot my players wanted to do something that was CERTAINLY not RAW but it was cool enough that i was like "yeah give me a second and i'll figure out how i think a fair way to do this mechanically is. this is going to be high risk high reward and might really fuck up your characters though, you good with that?" and everyone gave me the okay, so in the middle of session i spent about 5-10 minutes coming up with rules for a VERY difficult combined skill check and the tiered consequences that may occur depending on how poorly the party did. you're allowed to take a second to go say "hey i didn't think you'd pick a fight, lemme go get some statblocks. i don't have a map, we're doing this theater of the mind"

i know this was my first bullet point but because i'm talking about it at the end again above table communication is just as if not more important than in game signposting, hoping your players will recognize the hints you're dropping, if you think they're not getting it, just say it out right.

improv is super daunting and its still something i get stuck on occasionally. don't be too hard on yourself and find what works for you. dming is EXTREMELY fun, it is also work, but i think one of the things that makes dming harder than it needs to be is this expectation for perfection. you're a player at the table too and you're managing MORE than the players are. it is okay to have to take a second and to not have a perfect answer for everything.

just like 9/10 dms aren't trying to be malicious when they do something that accidentally upsets a player, 9/10 players aren't trying to be a pain for their dm and you can say 'hey i don't have an answer' or 'can we get to that later'

happy to lend my opinion if you have any questions about dming and i'd also direct you to my dm tag which is my own misadventures in dming and my own posts about dming

[anryuuepic]

Test Subject: Bacchus Bio

Name: Test Subject Bacchus

Species: Daryan

Race: Blackscale

Role: A former politician and current Test Subject of Winterkill Works, with a jaded, despair-filled personality and a painful past. She fluctuates between a voice of reason and just one more victim broken down at the hands of Winterkill’s ambitions, yet her apathy far overshadows both of those things.

Affiliation: Winterkill Works

Gender: Female

Age: 43

Height: 5’11

Appearance: Bacchus is a tall woman with a sharp, somewhat lanky build. She has light, ashy blonde, waist-length hair that she usually keeps up in a high ponytail. Her eyes are dark gray and dull, with heavy shadowing beneath them from stress. Her appearance tends to be disheveled, though her expression is near-perpetually one of exhausted neutrality. 

Personality: Bacchus is a hopeless, unhappy person who’s thoroughly tired of the world and living in it. She’s low-energy, quiet, and emotionally reserved, usually coming across as either exhausted, irritated, or just plain miserable. Underneath it all, she has a short temper and strong passions, but because she sees even her own hope as uselessly naive, she deliberately suppresses it. She naturally has a strong sense of duty and morality, valuing the “right thing” over happiness or temporary ease. Justice, fairness, and rightful consequences matter to her, and sacrificing those things has caused her a great amount of pain. She’s duty-oriented, even to her own detriment.

Positive Traits: For better or for worse, Bacchus has remarkable resilience. No matter what horrible things have happened to her, somehow, she’s managed to keep going. She’s generally patient and non-confrontational, though her tolerance for out-of-line behavior is also low. Lying is highly distasteful to her (even at times when the truth hurts), and when she makes a promise, she can be trusted to keep it. Though she doesn’t often show it, she’s quick-witted, organized, and adaptable, even in tense situations. 

Negative Traits: At the current point in her life, Bacchus’s internalized despair dominates her personality and outlook. When she encounters people who feel otherwise, she passes off their idealism and hopes as simple naivety. She’s apathetic and can be cold-hearted; even with things she cares about, her habit is to push those softer sentiments aside. Her self-sacrificing streak is a frequent source of pain, and she struggles to recognize when something isn’t her fault or would be impossible for her to change. 

History: Bacchus spent the early part of her life in an unremarkable town, where she was involved in the local legal system. An unfortunate end to a difficult case turned public opinion against her, though, and she eventually left that town behind. With one of her sons dead and the other resenting her for it, she’d lost any purpose her former life held. When Winterkill Works offered her a role as an experimental subject, she had nothing better to do than accept; at the very least, it was a way to occupy her time. 

Relationships: Bacchus generally goes out of her way to keep an emotional distance from the people around her. Even when she might get along with someone, she’ll avoid any chances of connecting or opening up. Despite this, she’s on surprisingly good terms with staff and her fellow test subjects alike, particularly Venus. However, after bearing personal witness to many of the experiments, she greatly resents those with active roles in the group.

Interests: Bacchus likes herbal teas (the more bitter-tasting, the better), philosophical debates about morality, and legal studies. She dislikes cold weather (her scars ache), recklessness, and people who take advantage of others. She hasn’t pursued any interests since joining Winterkill Works. 

WW Role: As one of the specially selected Test Subjects, Bacchus was given a particular experimental power. In her case, that power is meant to mimic a Combustion-Element Mutation; ash rises from her skin when her emotions spike, leaving lumpy, scarred burns behind. The physical pain bothers her less than the knowledge that someone knowingly chose to inflict it.

Miscellaneous: Bacchus tends to be softer and more patient with young men; though she’d never say it outright, they often remind her of her sons. She’d sort of hoped Winterkill’s experiments would kill her; with nothing left to live for, it would have been easier to end up dead. She has an excellent memory, especially when it comes to laws, regulations, and procedures. She doesn’t particularly dislike the appearance of her scars, but the chronic pain that comes with them hasn’t done her mental state any favors. When she’s in a bad place emotionally, her physical self-care is the first thing to fail. 

Connotative Description: A depressed, apathetic person with a tragic past weighing her down. Dutiful and steadfastly moral even when it hurts her, yet convinced that there’s little true “good” to reach for in the world. 

[bitchapalooza]

I think Rosiepuff dies after they had escaped the tree. Chef is alone, and leaves after capturing just a single troll. If they were in the tree, she would've been catching a lot more for trollstice and probably had help. I also think brozone was created after escaping the tree, because it would've been hard to go separate ways in a small tree. I also think the bergens wouldn't have let the trolls be super loud in the tree, because it would have gotten on their nerves since they were always unhappy when it wasn't trollstice before the ending of the first trolls. Branch acts as though he hadn't seen any of them since the band broke up, which would've been hard if they were all confined to a single tree. A lot of people believe Branch to be older than Poppy but I'm not sure if that's necessarily the case. We also don't know much about troll aging considering tiny diamond could immediately talk and seems to have an intellect similar to an adult troll.

That’s what I thought too until I took the inconsistencies in the series into account. The timeline we’re presented with doesn’t make much sense to me; we’re told Trollstice happened 20 years ago. World Tour and Band Together are a month apart. The band splitting up was 20 years ago. On the fandom wiki it seems to claim it’s been a years between trolls 1 and 2, but I’m not sure how much I can believe that when I don’t see the actual source stating that. We are to assume that Branch and Poppy are at least 21-23 in the first Trolls, making them toddlers when the escape from Bergen town happens, and at least 24 in trolls 3. When the flashback to Rosiepuff happens, Branch looks to be about 4-8 years old, while in Brozone he was probably 1 or 2.

I’m sure they thought things out well enough but just didn’t exactly execute it very well since Branch’s past wasn’t a focus until trolls 3 and neither was the total past of the pop trolls, just their escape and what it’s led up to and what we got in trolls 2.

I think the bergens treated the trolls like livestock and figured that if they didn’t do their thing they probably wouldn’t actually taste good. There would probably be many gray trolls around if their spirits were down and repressed so often, which in their logic would be bad livestock and probably be seen as an infectious disease, leading to many needless dead livestock to prevent the spread of disease and the end of trollstice. The trolls probably had designated sing times, or just kept their singing to specific people(ie bands or singers) and kept it to INSIDE the tree(probably a naturally occurring hole in the trunk or in their respective individual pods) where the noise muffled enough to not attract attention.

As for the brothers going separate ways, well they’re small. The tree is very big to them. It’s probably more like a whole town or city for them. You’d actually be pretty surprised at how easy it is to not see people you know in a small town— I live in a small town with limited neighborhoods(like 2 or 3 actual neighborhoods and the rest are RV parks and mostly year round empty cabins and vacation homes) and apparently more than 5 of my coworkers actually live not far from me. And yet, I never see them when I’m out and about running errands(unless it’s the only Walmart between towns, other than that, I never see them. I don’t even see the one who lives right across from the post office! And I go to the post office very often! I’ve only encountered coworkers outside of work 3 times in the past 2 years). They could easily avoid each other if they were actually really trying to. And the escape wouldn’t really change that fact because many families probably got separated in the fray anyway, both in the group with Peppy and the group with Viva. Again, idk how trustworthy the wiki is and where they get their sources from, but it does mention Clay and Viva having escaped the Bergens together.

And I’m not trying to argue or anything, I mostly took this ask as an opportunity to explain my thoughts behind the timeline lol 🤷‍♂️

[oilan]

Fic Meme

Tagged by @robertawickham ages ago.

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll roughly to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.

Worthwhile Endeavors (my new year's resolution is to finish this)

On Enjolras' left, Bahorel was regaling Courfeyrac with a story that had taken place several evenings before involving, apparently, a very pretty young woman who Bahorel had allowed to woo him back to her rooms. Across the table, Laigle cut into a conversation involving mesmerism to tease a blushing Prouvaire about a mademoiselle who had lately caught his eye. Grantaire, having reappeared at last, loudly interjected with ribald comments now and then. And Enjolras, looking around at the friends he so admired, felt strongly aware of the great gulf between all of them and himself.

2. La Saint-Sylvestre

Grinning triumphantly, Grantaire was poised to empty the remaining brandy into the punchbowl, but was interrupted by a portly young man standing nearby. “Pardon, you three. Someone has already-" “Pardon?” said Grantaire, rounding on him. “This fellow does not know true heroics when he sees it! Pardon, but do you wish to be the cause of this party’s demise? If not, do not stand in the way of its triumph!”

3. Les Âmes

The group turned to see Bahorel sitting side by side with Jean Prouvaire atop the ruin of the barricade. Bahorel was beaming at them. “It took you all long enough, but here you are! We have been waiting for you. Really, Enjolras, I can’t believe you had the audacity to fling my body into the Rue Mondetour like all the others! Do I not deserve a place of honor? You should have propped me up on the barricade here, carbine in hand. It might have given the national guard quite a fright!”

4. Expectations (Now I know exactly how Lucille feels here...)

In the center of the chaos, Lucille was sitting on a sofa, her hair disheveled and falling from where she had hastily pinned it, her dressing gown hanging off one shoulder as she tried unsuccessfully to nurse her new daughter. Enjolras averted his eyes, but Combeferre was moved with sympathy as he watched the baby struggle to push away from her, screaming all the while.

5. Tomorrow We Move Forward

With a muffled thunk two objects, carefully hidden inside of the hat, tipped over and fell against the bottom of the box. They were a pair of pistols, percussion cap, the metal mechanisms shining in the waning light. Attempting to ignore the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, Combeferre took one of the pistols in his hands and turned it over, examining the weapon carefully. It was brand new and superbly crafted.

6. La Beauté du Diable de l'Ésprit

“Ah, you made it! Jehan, let the fellow in, for God’s sake- you can gawp at each other later.” He clapped Courfeyrac on the shoulder. “I’m pleased to see you made it here. Courfeyrac, this is Jean Prouvaire- our host. Jehan, I found Courfeyrac at the Sorbonne today. A baby lawyer- fresh from his parents’ nest.”

7. A Regrettable Encounter

Combeferre did not reply, and merely continued to stare hard at his two friends, as if silently willing them to leave. His companion, who was only slightly less inebriated, looked uncomfortably from them to Combeferre and back again. “You know each other? Well, of course you many join us. The more the merrier after all—" and Combeferre looked even unhappier at that.

8. Step By Step

“Nevermind them. Do you know a song in triple time you might sing?” There was a sardonic glint in Combeferre’s eye. “Ranz des Vaches.” Enjolras gave a surprised laugh. “I- I suppose that might work.” “I’m not going to sing you any song involving cows.” Combeferre wrapped an arm around Enjolras’ waist and took his other hand, positioning himself for a second attempt. “I should hope you would give me more credit for romance than that.”

9. Despite All Rationality

Something clenched in Enjolras’ chest, but he chose not to respond, setting some bread and cheese on the nightstand instead. “You might eat something as well.” “Fine.” Combeferre looked as though he did not know whether to be dejected or vexed. “If you don’t want to hear about Dupuytren you- you could still just sit with me for a bit. We haven’t said a word to each other since-“

10. The Process of Healing

The pair spent the remainder of the day in the sitting room, ensconced in armchairs, Enjolras reading and Combeferre attempting to doze when he was not busy coughing or shivering with fever. He was too ill to even look much at the portrait above the fireplace, and more than once, he caught Enjolras’ drawn expression turned towards him. At this, he attempted to hide his discomfort, pretending he was not both chilled and hot, that every movement did not pain him.

Tagging @adamsvanrhijn @marschallin @oldbookist @baronmpontmercy @astarion-dekarios

[thelampisaflashlight]

I come from a family of very superstitious individuals, though I, myself, do not put much credence to the paranormal.

This isn't to say I doubt the experiences other people have had -with a few exceptions due to personal reasons- but I follow much the same logic as, say, Houdini or Ghost Files' Shane Madej, in that I need proof.

There's the old saying, "Seeing is believing" and have I seen things?

Yes.

Shockingly, yes.

And you might be saying, "Lamp, if you've seen something supernatural, something that you couldn't explain, then why don't you believe?"

It all comes back to the human imagination.

Now this isn't to say I think people are imagining things when they see ghosts and other otherworldly things.

However, there already exists several known phenomenon that can scientifically explain how or why we might be seeing them.

Pareidolia, for example, in which we find faces in objects, is a very normal quirk of how our brains are wired.

We are also more susceptible to seeing/hearing things when we are tired or stressed.

Our minds are wired to help us remain vigilant in situations where we might encounter danger, because while we might be perfectly safe, even imagined dangers can trigger a real fear response.

It's why when someone has a dream that someone did something mean to them, they might be angry/upset when they wake up.

But I digress.

So, what did I see?

Well, first things first, I think it's important to give you some context.

When I was ten years old, my mother passed away quite suddenly.

She had been sick for some time, but had hidden it well enough that by the time her symptoms were impossible to hide anymore, it was already too late to help her.

Without going into too much detail on how she died, I can tell you that it was incredibly traumatic for me.

So much so that I spent the ages of eleven to seventeen in therapy, and I still, to this day, have not wholly unpacked the entirety of that day with anyone.

The night after her passing, however, is when this event occurred.

Now, as I said a moment ago, the human imagination -the human mind- is a fantastic thing.

And when we are tired and stressed, as I was, we are perhaps more inclined to see things that aren't truly there.

My mother, for as long as I knew her, always sat at the same spot at our dining room table; In a well worn wooden chair in front of a chest that I never got to see the contents of -not an important detail, but a far gone curiosity now- and her sweater, a gray and pinkish-purply thing made of that yarn that always seems to go to fuzz, was draped over the back of it.

To my mother, one of the most important things to do when someone past, was to view the body in order to say goodbye.

When my paternal grandmother passed two years prior to my mother's own death, she'd taken my hand in her own and we stood by her bedside and said our goodbyes.

I did not get to say goodbye to my mother.

And I think, perhaps, that's why I saw what I did.

I had reached out, placing my hand on the back of the chair, and turned to look out at the window... and there was my mom.

Sitting in the chair beside me.

I need you to understand when I say this, it could not have been a person standing outside, and before anyone says, "Well, it could have been your own reflection staring back at you."

I do not look like my mother.

Or at least I didn't look like her back then.

I was a very pale, blond child, and my mother was a brunette, who, quite infamously, resembled Frida Kahlo.

In fact I've played a game with my siblings a number of times called "Mom or Frida Kahlo", the resemblance is that uncanny.

But what got to me the most was the expression on her face.

She was angry.

And it frightened me.

In that moment, I had felt real fear.

I was so taken aback I went to go find my father, and when I told him what happened, he just said, "That makes sense."

That makes sense.

I didn't tell him that she looked unhappy.

And, for a long time, I forgot about it.

But every so often the memory comes back to me.

I can write it off a million different ways.

Yet...

[weerd1]

ENT Rewatch Starlog, 25 February, 2024: Episode 3.15 “Harbinger”

Trip is taking what he’s learned from T’Pol’s neuropressure sessions and having his OWN sessions with Corporal Cole of the MACOs. She expresses interest in taking it further, but has also gone to Phlox to mention she’s been having headaches afterward. Phlox informs T’Pol and suggests she try to undo Trip’s missteps with the Corporal. T’Pol gives her very unhappy stoic face.

Meanwhile, Major Hayes of the MACOs has approached Archer about providing combat training to senior Starfleet officers, which Malcolm takes to be an attempt on Hayes’ part to take over ship security. He grudgingly goes along with it, but the sessions prove to be escalating one-upmanship between the Starfleet Lieutenant and the MACO Major. 

While all THAT interpersonal drama is going on, Enterprise discovers an enormous cluster of spatial anomalies equidistant between five spheres.

They pick up a life sign in a small pod just inside the anomaly, and with some dangerous moves manage to retrieve an unknown alien. He claims to have been a prisoner from a different dimension of space who was forced into the pod. Archer begins to think some of those myths about the Sphere Builders returning D’Jamat and his people from “Chosen Realm” discussed might be somewhat true, and this alien may be like a canary in a coal mine to see of the spheres are changing local space to be what those builders need. 

After various shenanigans and awkward discussions between T’Pol, Trip, and Cole, Trip and T’Pol are conducting a neuropressure session where she reveals that Sim—the Trip clone from a few episodes back—told T’Pol that Tucker has feelings for her. After some repartee, T’Pol kisses Trip, and disrobes, and the two have sex.

Meanwhile, Hayes and Reed are in the gym sparing and the testosterone takes over, and it becomes a brawl that spills into the corridor. About that time though, the alien reveals himself able to phase through matter and walks to engineering where he proceeds to reach in and damage the warp core. Fresh from their fight, Malcolm and Hayes manage to tweak the engine to zap him and stop him.

The Alien reveals he was there to stop the NX-01, and when the Xindi destroy Earth, his “people will prevail,” before phasing completely out.

Trip and T’Pol have an awkward coffee together where she says their encounter was basically her just exploring her curiosity about human sexuality, but Trip does think they should continue neuropressure. Archer dresses down Malcolm and Hayes, who seem to have resolved their differences after their own physical session. 

Rare to see a Trek episode that has an A, B, AND C story going on all at once. The parallels between the Trip/T’Pol and Reed/Hayes stories do not however seem coincidental. Yeah, I’m a T&T shipper, though some of T’Pol’s very human jealousy here seems more than a bit forced, I’m not sure the eroticism between those characters was any more dramatic than between Reed and Hayes when they were fighting. Jesus, guys, just kiss already. Archer leaving them in his quarters after his lecture without dismissing them, and neither wanting to leave drives the point that these two are really pretty similar home.

But T&T DOES finally consummate here including a scene that shows about the top third of T’Pol’s bare “bum,” that as I recall was actually edited in some parts of the country; how quaint.  Some of how this all plays out I think does weaken T’Pol’s character a bit, but I guiltily accept it as these two are on my OTP list, so what can I say? 

Meanwhile, there is an age-old Trek foible here that I will never quite understand. What keeps an alien (or flashing back to TNG in the episode “The Next Phase” Geordi and Ro) who is phasing—seemingly uncontrolled as he can’t control his disappearance at the end—from falling through the floor?  Or staying in one point in space while the ship moves around them, since surely gravity and inertia won’t work on them too?  How can he use hands to climb the ladder to get on top of the warp core, but put his hands through the top to reach in a reach havoc? OK- MAYBE in this case he has more control over the process than they indicate so he’s just CHOOSING to have the bottom of his feet only phase for walls and not floors, but…it always makes me shrug. 

Finally, my THANKS to this episode for my all-time favorite Enterprise GIF:

Next Voyage: With the crew sedated, Phlox is home alone in “Doctor’s Orders”!

(Images taken from the main website for @trekcore; I am happy to remove the images if asked.)