#this is far longer than the report i have to write but here i am

[eternalflashh]

i give up. i've been thinking about the fontaine lore too much to not put my thoughts somewhere.

no, this is not at all going to be organized, because i hardly have it all together yet. but i've been trying to get a gist of fontaine's prophecy, and i'm just trying to put the pieces together after what we've learned of fontaine's history (albeit not much, and neither is the theory the best. i'm just thinking on paper here.) this is going to be *very long* by the way. very, very, very long.

naturally, beware of spoilers, particularly: fontaine AQs and world quests (narzissenkreuz, elynas (the melusines) — including the canotila side quest, institute of natural philosophy, khvarena), artifacts (nymph's dream, marechaussee hunter), weapon (fleuvre cendre ferryman)

also, disclaimer: i may be wrong. i am not a genius—kind of an idiot, really. i'm just thinking. thinking. read this as someone's journal, not the wiki entry.

here's a brief recap of the three fontaine world quests, because we're going to need them:

in the narzissenkreuz adventure team quest, we accompanied the tiny oceanid ann in order to save a "princess lyris", only to find out that she never existed and this was all a fictional tale—one, though, that has its roots in the real narzissenkreuz institute.

in the elynas quest, we saved mamere from getting her paintings stolen, and found out that she was painting with elynas's blood. a man named jakob ingold has been trying to collect this blood, and now, apparently tries to revive the dragon itself—for a cause that is beyond even the abyss's plans.

the quest with the institute of natural philosophy wasn't quite as plotful, aside from the fact that we simply were led to the institute thinking it was the narzissenkreuz institute, and found plenty of old records. it's also where the narzissenkreuz ordo's quarters was buried inside, and where we managed to unite ann and seymour to continue their story.

now, from the many ancient texts and artifact/weapon descriptions i've managed to piece a rough idea of what happened 500 years ago, which i will try my best to summarize coherently according to my understanding:

the narzissenkreuz institute, which had an oceanid as its director and basil elton as its vice, was a special unit founded with the purpose of protecting fontaine against the evils (of khaenri'ah, presumably). that being said, they housed orphaned childen. these included the mary-ann we see in "the real annapausis" (whose consciousness was transferred to our oceanid ann), alain, rene, and jakob.

it was said that "the director and her sisters went off to fight the evil at its source" (nymph's dream), which i'm assuming is khaenri'ah, while the vice director set off for the seas in the Sponsian ship where she eventually passed. shortly after, the institute was disbanded. before the vice director (basil elton) set off, though, she had entrusted the children of the institute to her close friends: emanuel gullotin and karl ingold (marechaussee hunter).

alain guillotin and mary-ann guillotin, taken up by emanuel, became marechaussee hunters; rene de petrichor and jakob ingold, in the meantime, headed for sumeru's girdle of the sands with karl ingold to research the remmants of the lord of amrita. (if you did the quest, you would've had "rene's investigation notes" in your inventory—which essentially describes what they've been researching; rene appears to have recently turned into a young adult, while jakob is still "a child", but they both sound... young.) it also seems that before this, they infiltrated elynas—in the investigation notes, they seem to be hiding their condition from karl; later we find that jakob seems to be surviving on elynas's blood.

sometime after this, alain guillotin is enrolled into the institute of natural philosophy where he researches (i assume) the mechanics of arkhe and pneuma-ousia annihilation; rene and jakob are also enrolled in there some time later. at first, they were working on the same research (alain's), until rene and alain eventually broke off their working relationship (noting that they, including mary-ann, still hung out together as friends), apparently having disagreed on something.

now we saw jakob ingold— which clearly means him having absorbed elynas's blood (and all those research) has somehow given him the powers of immortality, which rene and him had been researching in the desert; although it appears that rene has found a different way of implementing immortality. rene, in his "memories" as told in the book of revealing, discovered a way humans could surpass death by dissolving in the waters, their consciousness preserved even as doomsday comes (i assume this is how the water from the primordial sea came to be rediscovered after ages), and chose himself as the first test subject to be dissolved. alain, meanwhile, went off to establish the fontaine research institute that studied clockwork and created the meka we see roaming around fontaine now—i personally think the specific use of clockwork was intended to allude to the underlying goal to surpass their time. but yk, that might be overkill.

mary-ann's end, though, was never quite explicitly told. and in fact, the "mary-ann" we see in annapausis described the place in the book as her tomb, even though the story (whether the one we were going through, or the literal story you find in the fountain with the "statue of princess lyris") was unfinished. she might not have been a particularly "important" character in the history, but she was significant to each of the other childen— the various notes always expressed joy whenever they see mary-ann, may it be alain who was said to care for his sister (so much that he made her seymour), rene, jakob, even carter (alain's assistant).

this is important because, coincidentally, it resembles ann's role in the narzissenkreuz adventure team fairytale. ann was described to be their leader, a sort of mascot, among the team fighting against the fell dragon. and in fact, each of the characters we met resemble someone in reality: 'al' is from alain, 'ney' is from rene, 'jak' is from jakob, and 'mori' from seymour. (the others are... a bit complicated and i cannot yet discuss them because I'm Still Thinking, and that'll go besides my current point.) basically, the fairytale was literally told with the children as real life inspiration. (even though, of course, it was cut off quite annoyingly.)

then, it's worth understanding the tale to understand their true motives as well. the tale talks of the adventure team's existence essentially to help princess lyris to protect her realm and fight against the big bad evil, the fell dragon narcissus. narcissus was fighting her for "a treasure of hers that he did not have", and in order to help fight against this evil, princess lyris shared her time with her friends, time that allowed them to be ahead of the dragon's attacks. but in the end, the dragon still had the upper hand; eventually she trapped herself in the high tower, entrusting a treasure to the adventure team: a bright pearl of water.

common sense tells that this princess lyris alludes to the archon of their nation, egeria; the adventure team being the narzissenkreuz institute, while the fell dragon narcissus is the khaenri'ahn invasion. judging from this, then, it appears that the archon left behind this "bright pearl of water" as the last thing before she trapped herself in the high tower. and that's it— that's the end of the story, so we don't know how the rest of history went. well, except for the fact that the former hydro archon is, in fact, dead, and now we are left with a most ominous prophecy: of the original sin, of why it's exclusive to fontaine, of why the oceanids do not recognize their current archon, of why furina is exempt from this prophecy—and what she is waiting for.

i have so many questions, and no idea of how to approach them in a methodical manner—so i will first point out all the things that bother me.

i wondered why this problem is exclusive to fontaine. regarding there is a problem of exception mentioned in rene's notes, where the children's constitution are different from karl's; i still have no idea the nature of this distinction, only that rene and jakob's bodies are like the power of the sacred lotus (i.e., the former archon's power). at first i thought that this distinction may be the reason for them being susceptible to the primordial seawater's effects, but without understanding the distinction, it doesn't help in answering the question.

then, again, i wondered what their real motives was. neuvillette says that the former archon left furina with the prophecy—but it doesn't sound like a problem so much as a statement of what's to come. we don't know what egeria actually believed. but i went back to the final feast teaser, and found that egeria actually had some narration:

the original sin is the fairest: everyone sinks. make the most of the final feast, because for the sinners, the curtain call has come.

which certainly does make it sound like she sees them all as sinners, and that they have always been bound to sink.

the interesting thing is— this might not necessarily be a bad thing, no matter how we see it as a crisis. even the victims of the disappearances case regard dissolving into the waters as "relief" (vigniere from the AQ); even the people say this is just like returning to whence they came from, and mary-ann of the sunflower annapausis says that together, as one body of water, they can become strong. in line with this, perhaps rene's act of dissolving into the seawater doesn't seem so much as a radical act anymore.

i always come back to this line at the storybook:

"So, in Narcissus's story, I'm the evil villain?

it may sound like an innocent question, but a fairly odd one for a child to be asking. and i believe it says more than it seems. for one, i'd like to point out that narcissus is another term for the flower daffodil, which symbolizes rebirth—the narzissenkreuz also means "narcissus cross", aka, death of rebirth. which makes sense when you think that they're enemies of "the fell dragon". but why would they be fighting rebirth? perhaps because the narzissenkreuz institute were fighting the prophecy, which they, including egeria, perhaps, believed at the time to be a good thing.

i say "at the time" because, look at what became of the children. in essence, they became "villains". rene, for one, founded a source of the primordial sea, which was certainly what led to the current problems—and, hence, what would lead to the realizing of the prophecy. jakob is out here trying to revive elynas in order to use his blood to strengthen human lifespans, so that they can overcome the surmised cataclysm that would come? to turn everyone immortal? meanwhile, alain's deviced a way to subvert the usage of celestia's elements by making work of pneuma-ousia power. essentially, they are each fighting for rebirth, instead of fighting against rebirth. perhaps not precisely rebirth, but a way to preserve humanity, to subvert the crisis. even mary-ann, in a sense, had managed to attain this goal, by preserving all her memories—despite it being unfinished—in that storybook.

and in fact, perhaps that's also why the story ended there—because it was that point, when the cataclysm occurred, where the story's moral had shifted, and they had each lost their original intention to fight. because they then realized that they needed better ways of handling this crisis, only to have one of them revert to that crisis itself. tl;dr: the prophecy ceased from being a crisis, instead becoming rene's perceived solution. which is.... interesting, to say the least.

again, it sounds radical, but it may very well hold water. one interesting thing i noted from the canotila quest was that where we saw the dark power of the abyss in "the end of things" as predicted by the world-formula, canotila instead saw a nice place with flowers, etc. and when we were talking to elynas, he noted that "the things they (the primordial dragons) enjoyed were not things that humans valued". it's similar to this situation—two different viewpoints may see the same thing to be two very different things; either salvation or destruction. which then brings a lot of suspense toward the resolution of the AQ—what, truly, will become the best solution for them? would being dissolved save the people of fontaine? or would they find a way to subvert both the dissolution and the destruction? (obviously, it's probably the latter—the question, as always, would be how? to answer that, we need to know more on why they are subject to this sin, and that is not a question i can answer, despite this Very Long Rambling. i am most stressed)

but if nothing else, at least i've figured that the foretelling of this disaster is something that's originated far before the cataclysm, from egeria's time. perhaps it'd be something like rukkhadevata & nahida, where rukkhadevata had her own way of solving the issue with combating forbidden knowledge, but it led to a whole other issue, and nahida had to find her own solution.

one thing still perplexes me, though— furina's perspective in all this.

at first i thought she may be the "pearl of water" referred to in the storytale, since it would make sense that that's where the next archon comes in—but since furina is supposed to be older than nahida (as said by neuvillette in nahida's introduction), it seems unlikely. though it's always possible that this happened several years before the cataclysm, it wouldn't align very nicely; one would assume the princess trapping in her tower to be an event that took place during the peak of the cataclysm, so the life born out of the pearl must be sometime after that. but the possibility remains.

or perhaps one shouldn't take the story too literally, and assume she was simply handed the gnosis after egeria's passing—but why? who is she to begin with? and what then is the pearl of water that the princess left to the narzissenkreuz? it must bear significance, if it was left in the story at all (and something the storyteller felt important enough to be named after the child she was telling the story to, lyris). perhaps the pearl thing was only an expression, and it was meant to allude to the passing of her gnosis to the next archon. but of course, this is only conjecture.

furina's behavior... is perhaps simply a consequence of her original personality, under her circumstances. her personality aside, though, what would her woes we hear in the fountain mean? what does she mean when she say "interminable"—what, exactly, is she waiting for in unbearable loneliness? it doesn't make much sense for her to be waiting for the prophecy to come; otherwise, she'd have no reason to research it for so long, gathering intelligence, when she hardly cares for the nation's affairs. surely she wouldn't be waiting for divine intervention to come save her from her business? lyney and lynette note that she always appears to be "acting"—so what is she acting for? why does she aim to judge other gods? if she wants to prove that other nations are also at fault for "sinning", then wouldn't she need more time, instead of being impatient? nothing seems to add up with her. perhaps she wants to save everyone, but perhaps she is tired as well. perhaps she doesn't feel like she's capable of it, and wishes for release to come instead. is that what it is? who knows. who knows. it's impossible to tell, with someone with so many faces.... it's very interesting. furina is certainly a very interesting archon.

anyways. that was long and this doesn't hold much water to it (get it) but. i had to dump my thoughts somewhere. i'll get back to it when i find more information, when more thoughts come to hound me,,,,,, yeah. anyway.

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness (6)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

And so they remain in this world for longer than what they planned.

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"What gave you the idea I can tell the future?" You scoffed.

"That doesn't matter! Tell me, do I become the strongest? Does Lord Capitano finally recognise my strength and duel me?" He answered.

"How am I supposed to know? The game isn't even finished, you psychopath!"

"It can't be that far away that even you don't know." He scoffed.

"It's not a question of how far in the future it is, it's whether I can actually answer it or not that matters!"

"Oh, so you do know but you just can't tell me because it would mess with the future! I see..." He muttered to himself.

That is not what I meant.

"Tartaglia leave the poor Decider alone. We've tormented them enough." Pulcinella scolded, prodding his walking stick at the ginger.

"But I need to know!--"

"-And you will learn what you want later, when The Tsaritsa has finished her plans with them." He scolded.

"Come on, boy, I thought I taught you better than this."

"Dottore what is taking so long!? I was promised we wouldn't stay here much longer." Sandrone raised her voice.

Why is that cosplayer so pissy? It's not like she can actually 'traverse back to Teyvat' like she says she can.

"I'm not sure, let me redo my calculations." He replied.

All Sandrone did was groan in response. "Fine! You do your calculations, I'm taking The Decider with me."

"Don't stray too far!" Columbina waved, giggling at The Doctor's increasing speed in shuffling his papers.

You felt her grab you by your restraints and drag you with her, she seemed to be heading behind the counter.

"Now that I have your undivided attention," She coughed into her hand. "Educate me about these beautiful machines this place has!"

"What."

"I have never seen machinery so big and so seemingly illustrious in my lifetime! You simply must report to me which genius created such pleasing creations."

Careful there Sandrone, out of context it sounds like you're describing something else...

"Well..." How were you supposed to explain them? You didn't know how they work, you've never worked a day in your life! You're just a college student with barely passable grades.

"I don't want any hesitancy. Speak now." She glared.

"Uh... This one! This one is used for frying things, the things being chips... They're more commonly known as fries though."

"Ah, I see... And I suppose the liquid in this 'basin' is oil?" She questioned, tracing her hand on the metal.

"It's not a basin, that would be in a bathroom... But yes, it is. I also advise that you don't touch it, it's most likely still hot. Not that I'd mind it burning you..."

"What did you say, you unrisable creature?" She spat, turning to you with a blank gaze.

"Nothing, Sandrone." You sighed. "Now that I answered your question, will you answer one of mine?"

"Of course not. It's also 'Lady Sandrone' to you." She smiled, turning back to the oil with a look of interest.

"So... how does one make and then 'fry' these 'chips' in this machine?"

"Would you like the basics or the very start of the process?" You sighed, you really didn't want to explain that you cut a potato and then clean and so on.

"The very start, just who do you take me for?"

Fantastic. You shouldn't really be picky in this type of situation though.

"You take a potato, clean it then cut it into strips..."

"Important! Thin or thick strips? What's the exact diameter? The length?"

"It depends what type of chips you want, as typical fast food chain's ones are thin like fries they're quite thin and short. Those who get long ones are said to be the luckiest." You explained to her, as she writes everything down on a piece of paper.

"And the diameter?"

"You don't need a specific size, as long as they're somewhat equal they're fine. They're going to be eaten anyway, I don't see why you're making such a big fuss."

She stayed quiet for a moment. "I want them to be perfect."

Nothing is perfect but if I said that she'd get even more pissed off.

"Next, you take your clean cut chips and put them in this basket. You then place the basket with chips in the oil and wait for a certain amount of time for them to cook."

"For how long?" She questioned. "I don't know? I've never personally used one before, I'm just saying what I've seen others do."

...and by 'seen what others do', you mean impatiently peering behind the front desk to see what the workers are up to.

"Useless, and here I thought you were becoming convenient for me." Sandrone scoffed.

"Well, the chips are supposed to be a golden colour so I think that's context enough..." You mumbled.

"And then what? Surely there is more."

"Not really, once they're cooked you put salt on them then eat. Some like to eat them straight away, but I like to add sauce sometimes."

"Excellent, I have written every word of your explanation down. As you provided the least minimal detail possible, you will show me a clear and explained demonstration." She scolded.

"I'm sorry, you want me to use one of these machines to help you with your notes?"

"Precisely." She nodded to herself.

"No." You answered shortly. "I have no idea how to operate one of these machines, what if I set fire to the building?"

That's a bit dramatic, but you don't want to embarrass yourself. Besides, a fire could count as arson and you weren't willing to potentially get yourself to prison with the rest of these lunatics.

"I suppose that is anxiety raising. Especially when I've been ordered to stay out of public eye..." She sighed to herself.

"What a dilemna this situation is. I'll have to take the machine apart and rebuild it once I return to my lab. You will aid me in my endeavour, won't you?" She glared.

She's good at staying in character. It's freaking me out.

"S-Sure..." You stuttered in fear.

"Excellent." She smiled at you once more.

Suddenly, lots of cars could be heard from outside the building. You could tell they were fast as the sounds left as soon as they came.

Oh, please tell me that's help!

"What was--"

"Marionette, bring The Decider now!" Dottore shouted from the other room. "We need to get out of here, they alerted their own soldiers!"

"You did what while under my merciful eye?" She turned to you.

"Sandrone, there's no time to be mad! Get your puppeteering arse over here right now!"

"Ugh."

She dragged you to the rest of the harbingers, who all gave you nasty glares.

"What did you do!?" Signora screamed in your face.

"I called the authorities to arrest you nutcases! You're all delusional and high in the fucking sky if you think you're the actual Fatui Harbingers from a fictional game!"

"Did it ever occur to you that you are currently being held hostage by multiple enemies of yours? You have courage to do such a thing while captured by us." Capitano praises.

"We have circled the entire building! Give the hostage and we will arrest peacefully!" An officer yelled from the front entrance.

Finally! I thought they'd never arrive.

"Dottore what do we do?" Arlecchino shouts at him. "Let's just kill them all again, it worked before didn't it?" Childe grinned.

"Not this time, Tartaglia. Even if we disposed of these soldiers, I am positive more would soon arrive." Capitano stated, unmoving unlike most harbingers.

"So you're saying even if we take care of them, we'll still be outnumbered."

"They're not soldiers, idiots. They're police officers who work for justice." You spat at them.

They all looked at you, silently telling you to shut up then turned back to eachother.

"Listen to me, as I'll only suggest this once." Signora thought outloud. "I'll freeze them with my cryo delusion, then we'll run to a safe place? As much as I'd hate to do that as I'm wearing heels, I believe it's our only option."

"I agree with Rosalyne," The old man coughed. "We need speed and tactiful thinking if we wish to leave this world."

"Signora, I've never known you to be so vague!" Childe laughed at her, looking at Pulcinella in hopes he'll laugh along with him.

"She's obviously talking about the park we entered this world in." Arlecchino scoffed at his behaviour.

"Then that is what we shall do." Pierro agreed.

Signora then pushed herself through the double doors calmly. You couldn't see what was happening due to Capitano covering your view, but you could hear screams and hysterical laughter.

"Please don't tell me she's killing them." You muttered, a look of repulsion present on your face.

"Did you even listen to her plan? She's not killing anyone." Sandrone rolled her eyes.

"I don't trust you, nor do I trust her."

"A wise decision on your part, but it doesn't aide your case of being kidnapped." Pierro answered for her.

"I'm aware of that, arsehole..." You whispered. "Pardon?" He glared.

"You know what? I've had enough of staying quiet. Fuck every single one of you! I hope that one day you breathe a vapes' cancerous flavour and your lungs dissolve at the second!"

"What's a vape?" Dottore turned to you.

"Okay, maybe I've been assuming too much, maybe you imported some illegal drugs from elsewhere? That's not the point though." You sighed.

"I feel better now that I got that out of my chest." You smiled to yourself, noticing Capitano giving you a blank stare through his mask in return.

"It certainly doesn't help you, but you do what you deem fit."

"Let's move!" Signora's voice could faintly be heard from outside, the harbingers one by one leaving the building through the doors.

"Apologies." Capitano coughed into his hand, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

"Hey! I can walk myself, you tied my wrists together not my ankles!" You argued to him.

"Does it look like he wants you over your shoulder?" Scaramouche rolled his eyes, before realising something.

"Nevermind, you wouldn't be able to see." He laughed in your face, hitting your head which banged against Capitano's back.

"Dude! Careful, I don't want to be near his arse! Besides, I--"

You stopped yourself from talking when you managed to turn your head to the police officers outside. They looked in terrible condition, you thought Signora was being drugged up when she went on about her cryo delusion!

Seeing the police officers shout to each other as they struggle against the ice freezing them in place made you realise one very important thing.

These cosplayers... They're the real fucking deal.

How do we feel about some bonding time with Sandrone? :>

I don't want the reader to be too quiet about their situation, but I just wanted to make it clear that they're afraid since they're aware of the current situation they're in. I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to write this but I suppose thats what practice is for...

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:

@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140 @whatamidoing89 @raesleepyhead @nasidibakar @shikanosn @purpleamethystsblog @chihawari @esthelily @stuffyfrenchflowers @conspicuous-mayonnaise @sielt @katsumikumo @greyhoundwires707 @carminerin @raidendeeznuts123 @angelofdarkness2

Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine; I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^

[mashbrainrot]

Henry Blake in 'The Interview'

In 2006, Larry Gelbart wrote dialogue imagining Trapper, Henry Blake, and Colonel Flagg had featured in the M*A*S*H episode 'The Interview'. Here is Henry's, with the original available to read here via Google Groups.

REPORTER: How does it feel, having the responsibility for saving such a great number of lives? HENRY: We just take ’em one or two, sometimes maybe twenty at a time. The big trick is not to start thinking of ’em as numbers – as just so many stats that go into a report that winds up in somebody’s filing cabinet under “out of sight, out of mind.” You’ve gotta always remember that what you’re dealing with is hurt people, people that have been run over by a war. REPORTER: And not just – HENRY: You gotta remember to take a peek at the odd dog tag now and then and remind yourself that that dangling leg or busted gut you’re going to try and put back together again is somebody’s dad or son or boyfriend – that all that blood and guts soiling your linen belongs to somebody that’s got a name attached to him.

REPORTER: You can’t afford to lose your sense of humanity. HENRY: There’s just so many senses you can lose over here. REPORTER: Humor not being one of them, obviously. HENRY: Around here laughter’s just crying without the tears. REPORTER: You have a family back home, sir? HENRY: In Bloomington. The one in Illinois, not in Indiana – unless things have changed since I went away. REPORTER: You keep in touch with them, of course, your family. HENRY: We write, we phone. Far apart as we are, I don’t think we’ve ever been closer. REPORTER: Would you like to say hello to them on television? HENRY: Be better if this was kissovision, but, yeah, can I? REPORTER: Go right ahead. HENRY: Lorraine? Hi, honey. Hi, kids. I got your report cards this morning and I had Radar go out post ’em on the bulletin board here so everybody can see why I’m so darn proud of you. Especially how you’re doing in math. You must get those brains from your mom. Got to be. Old as I am, I still don’t know how many tens to give someone for a five-dollar bill. (TO REPORTER) Thanks. REPORTER: That it? HENRY: That’s it. (TO CAMERA) Except I’m counting the days till we’re back together again. REPORTER: You have any idea when that will be? HENRY: I try not to have too many ideas. There’s always someone who ranks you who’s sure you’ll agree he’s got a better one. REPORTER: When you do finally get home, what are you going to tell your children is the biggest lesson being over here has taught you? HENRY: To always try to work things out, I guess. Whatever those things might happen to be. You don’t make your point killing the other guy. Even if you do it’s kind of wasted if the other guys not around to get the message. REPORTER: You seem – if all may so, Colonel – you seem near exhaustion. HENRY: What I am mostly is tired of being tired. We’re supposed to be a hospital but it’s more like a chop shop around here. We’re up to our elbows in people that other people are doing their best to chop down. REPORTER: That doesn’t lead to a lot of sleep, I would imagine. HENRY: I used to think of sleeping in terms of hours. How many did I get last night, how many will I get to steal tonight. I’m down to minutes now. It’s like somebody broke one hand off the clock. REPORTER: Does that ever affect your performance? HENRY: I fell asleep a few weeks ago in the middle of resecting a patient’s bowel. How’s that for exhausted? REPORTER: Does that fishing hat mean there are those times when you do get to get away from it all? HENRY: What it means is that I have to fish for those times. And let me say, the biting’s pretty poor. REPORTER: Business is too good around here. HENRY: Let’s just say it takes a whole lot longer to take a bullet out of a belly than it does putting one into one. REPORTER: Thank you, sir. HENRY: Can I say one more thing? REPORTER: Of course. HENRY: I just want you to know we all here are grateful for this visit you’ve paid us, this attention you’re paying to the job we’re doing. You get the feeling sometimes, being over here that, aside from our families, we’ve kind of dropped off the planet, that we’ve been kind of disinvited to the party – like everyone back home is busy living their real lives and for us to give them a call when we get back to town. (TO REPORTER) That sound too preachy? REPORTER: It sounded just fine, Colonel. HENRY: Henry. I’m a lot more a Henry than I’ll ever be colonel. REPORTER: Thank you, Henry. HENRY: Tell me the truth: didn’t that feel better? REPORTER: You’re an excellent doctor. HENRY: Hey – that’s why I’m over here getting 300 hundred dollars a month.

[thecorvidforest]

I have had a situation recently, and I would like your advice on it. I run a gaming discord server, with private servers for a few games. A streamer joined who claimed to have DID. They seemed to flaunt it all over their streams, seemingly very attention seeking. This, to me, seems likely to be fake, but I am unsure. Can you give any input? I don't want to have someone who makes up mental illnesses, discrediting those who actually have them, around, but I also don't want to falsely accuse someone.

sure, i’m happy to give my input, but it might not be what you’re looking for. you seem to have good intentions and this isn’t meant to bully or shame you at all, i just want to gently push back on this a little bit.

i personally believe there is never a good enough reason to accuse someone of faking a mental illness, especially something like DID/OSDD. there is no reliable way to spot a faker, and accusing people of lying does far more to hurt the community than faking does. let me explain.

some systems like to talk about their experiences, some don’t. same goes for anyone with any condition. talking about one’s plurality frequently is not automatically them flaunting it, and it’s certainly not grounds to assume they’re faking. plurality informs one’s entire life, we should be allowed to talk about it without having to worry if we’re being perceived as attention seeking.

here’s the thing. it’s wonderful that you want to help protect people who have DID/OSDD from people who might be faking it and i don’t doubt for a second that your intentions are genuine, but accusing someone of faking based on how you perceive them will do far more to discredit them than someone who’s actually faking it.

because here’s what’s going to happen if you remove them from your space because you think they’re faking: everyone around you who may be a closeted system - or even just anyone with a highly stigmatized disorder - is going to know that your acceptance of them isn’t based on their self-report, it’s based on your own perception of their symptoms. they will no longer feel free to be themselves, because showing their symptoms comes with the risk of being kicked out. you’ll have effectively made your space less safe for people with stigmatized conditions. and for the accused person, you’ll have removed them from a space that’s meant to be safe and completely invalidated their lived experience based on them choosing to speak about said experience.

on the flipside, let’s say they are faking and you do nothing. most likely scenario, they’re attention seeking and using DID to get the attention they want. what ends up happening most of the time is the person faking it eventually gets tired of the harassment and of having to keep all their lies straight and they stop.

of course lying about an already stigmatized condition for attention is an awful thing to do, and i’m not defending people who do it. what i am saying is that it is far less harmful to accidentally include a liar than it is to exclude someone who may or may not be lying with no way to know for sure if they are.

TLDR: whether they’re faking or not, them talking about it isn’t a reason to assume they are. and regardless, it’s always better to assume they’re telling the truth.

i hope this helps! we had a few switches in the middle of writing this so i’m sorry if the phrasing doesn’t flow well lmao

[lacefuneral]

ok i've seen some posts about the tumblr alternative cohost but none that were actually helpful so!

(disclaimer: i am very new to this website. users who have been there longer can and should chime in with additions and/or corrections)

Cohost Introduction Post

What is cohost?

Cohost is a fledgling website that is essentially a tumblr clone, but with its own culture and site-specific features. It is also very much a work in progress. You are encouraged to talk in the cohost forum to suggest changes for devs, report bugs, and upvote other people's suggestions. This website WILL grow and change over time. And as such, I do not know if/when the information I share here will be outdated. Edit: To answer an ask I received, anyone can join cohost without an invite. It used to be invite-only. It is not this way anymore.

Is "adult content" allowed there?

Yes. Cohost is not on the app store, meaning that it is not subject to Apple's specifications. You can post illustrations, writing, and photographs (cohost does not support any video formats at this time, just gifs). Cohost has an elaborate filtering and trigger warning system (moreso than tumblr), and you can disable adult content for your entire account or for individual tags. I actually don't engage with the adult content at all on there. Visual CSEM (both real and fictional) is specifically forbidden (although frankly I think the guidelines could be stricter wrt written content. Still, does seem to handle this better than AO3 does, going as far to say that written content about real minors is forbidden.)

How are minors protected?

The minimum age to join cohost is 16, and requires proof of parental permission to join. Users who are under 18 are automatically age-gated and cannot view adult content.

If cohost isn't on the app store, how is it used?

You can, of course, use cohost on a computer, but it is designed with mobile in mind. Opening the website on any IOS browser, clicking "share", and then "add to home screen" will install an app for you to use. The same can be done on an android. There is a guide here.

How does cohost work?

First, you create an account. Then you wait for approximately two days (read: weekdays) for the account to be activated. This is done to prevent spam bots. In the meantime, edit your profile. List some interests, your pronouns, your other social media links. Give yourself an icon. Note: icon and banner file sizes are small. You may need to shrink and compress images.

After the two days are up, make your first post! Write a basic introduction (with what you feel comfortable you feel sharing) and list some interests you like, maybe some hobbies, media, etc. And then tag this post with "#welcome to cohost". This will let existing members know that someone new has joined, and they may initiate conversation and/or follow you.

Next, go to the search and type in "The Cohost Global Feed" and click on the tag. Bookmark this tag. This is essentially one giant community space where you can find random users. (There is currently some discourse on the website as to whether this tag existing is a "bad thing" or not because "cohost isn't supposed to have a global tag". Just ignore that lol). Next, go back to search and type in things you like. TV shows, maybe. Video games. Music. Anything. See if people have posted in the tags. Follow them. Comment on their stuff. Click "like" to bookmark the post if you want to.

Most crucially, make sure that you bookmark the actual tag so you can look in that tag again later without having to manually type it each and every time. Also, you get a feed called "bookmarked tags" which allows you to scroll through all of them at once, which replaces the "for you" feature other websites have.

You can "share" a post (called "rebug" in user slang) which serves the same purpose as a reblog on tumblr. In a rebug, you can add your own tags or comment in the body of the post. Cohost users do not talk in tags as much as tumblr users - they tend to prefer to speak in the body of a rebug, or in the comment section (replies). At this time, you cannot view all reblogs. But you can view all comments in the comment section. Any post that is rebugged will preserve the tags of the OP, with any additional tags added being attributed to you. Rebugs are named after the website mascot Eggbug, a purple bee-like insect.

Posts are called "chosts" - and shitposting is called "shitchosting." Two examples of global shitposting tags are "#css crimes" - which is when a person does goofy things with the HTML/CSS editor to make colorful text, fake chat windows, and such - and "#shitchosting" which is a general shitposting tag. I've also seen people use tags like "#random".

If a post makes you laugh, check out the OP's profile. See if they post frequently, and if you have any common interests. If you realize you want to block or mute someone instead, you can.

You can send asks just like on tumblr, but your inbox must be manually opened first. So remember to do that.

How do I look at my own blog?

This is one of my gripes about the UI. You would think, intuitively, you would click here (at the top of the screen). But you would be wrong!

It is ACTUALLY under the sidebar menu, called "Profile." And I'm not the only one to to complain about this. (To get back to your dashboard, by the way, you click on the cohost logo.)

Are there sideblogs?

Yes! Each sidepage (sideblog) has its OWN set of likes AND followed pages (blogs). This allows you to easily switch between multiple sets of dashboards. A lot of users use this to have a SFW dashboard and an adult content dashboard. But it works like tumblr, too. You can have a side page/dashboard for whatever you'd like. Maybe one of your pages is for programming. Maybe another is for photography. You switch between your pages by clicking the arrow next to your icon/username at the top of the screen. ("Ohhhhh.... THAT'S what that's for.")

What's the userbase on there like?

Mostly programmers. Trans people. Furry artists. Plural systems. Furry trans plural programmers. Certainly a lot of shitposters. The website is trans-run and, as such, has zero tolerance for TERFs. Everyone seems pretty friendly from what I can tell. And there's very much a culture of "follow someone randomly based on their vibes" that doesn't happen as much on tumblr. Tumblr is more like "I really like this TV show, I'm going to follow 40 blogs about just this interest." Because the cohost community is so much smaller, there is a lot less content overall, especially fandom content. You can't follow 40 fandom pages because your fandom tag has a total of 3 posts, all made by one person approximately a year ago (well. for me anyway).

Cohost, then, actually has much more in common with real-life socialization. You seek out people with interests that may be very different from your own, and to find a common interest is very exciting! Unlike tumblr, you are encouraged to tag as much as possible. This allows your posts to be seen, to find common interests. And, of course, don't forget to look in "#Welcome To Cohost" too! You may find some new friends there.

What file formats can I post in?

Currently, I am aware of basic image formats working (like jpeg, png) animated gifs, and mp3s. You currently cannot upload videos to cohost. I believe the reason is not related to server costs, but rather as a way to curb the uploading of copyrighted content.

How does cohost make money?

There are no ads, and yet, as far as I am aware, cohost is operating comfortably. There is, however, an entirely optional "cohost plus" that is $5 USD a month. Currently, there are a few perks, but not enough to convince me.

What if I think something about cohost should change?

Cohost has a forum where users can submit ideas for features and other users can discuss/upvote those ideas.

Here is a list of posts made for newcomers to read:

[decepticononline]

TFP Knockout X Breakdown “Tell me you need me.”

This is a secret santa gift for a discord server I am in, dedicated directly to @neonhoneycomb ! Merry Christmas 🎄 I enjoyed writing this!

Warnings: NSFW, size kink, medical gore, angst, spike comparison, squirting.

The hologram target fizzled out of a view, which caused the ex-wrecker to growl in frustration. His rapid vents exhausted one after another as he retracted his blaster in defeat. He'd been in the training room for almost the whole cycle to work on his shooting aim now that he was… impaired. His non functional optic made all forms of combat almost impossible. He couldn't make a clear shot to save his own aft, let alone his partner's. 

Before Breakdown could exit the armoy room, his comm system loudly pinged. A slew of cybertronian curses fell past his dermas when he saw the comm was from Knockout. That indicated to him that he had been absent from the med-bay for far too long. 

“Need something?” With a nonchalant tone in his voice, the navy blue deception tried to play off the situation. It wouldn't work, but there was a 99% chance that if he didn't sound like he was doing anything wrong, then maybe he wasn't.

“Do I need something?! Great question because what I need is some assistance in the med-bay.” Even without seeing Knockout's face plate, it was obvious the mech was highly irritated.

 “Got it. I'll be there in a-” The comm ended abruptly, and Breakdown's singular beaming yellow optic rolled in its socket. Over the comm Knockout had sounded like he'd blown a few and a half gaskets since he'd been gone, and that made him much more resilient to take any longer to return.

Upon heading towards the med-bay, the mech passed by two badly cauterized vehicon drones, one of them still leaking energon onto the deck plates of the ship. Knockout must have been too busy to repair him correctly, but it didn't look severe, so the vehicon could walk it off… eventually. 

Two red glaring optics followed the ex-wrecker's movements as he entered the med-bay. If looks could kill, Knockout would surely be vaporizing him with just his vision right about now. The red medic didn't offer a greeting nor a chastising remark as his silence was more than enough to do the trick. 

“Sorry, got carried away in the armory.”

Knockout still said nothing while he cauterized a gaping wound in the shoulder-plate of another vehicon. He took his time with this one as the injury was fairly deep into the cybernetic metal. Knockout gestured to the data pad on the medical berth, without saying a word Breakdown knew he wanted him to start logging in the Vehicon’s credentials for an injury report. On his way to the opposite medical berth, the ex-wrecker let a servo graze against his partner's hip strut.

“Don't you dare start.”, a deep chuckle rumbled within Breakdown’s chassis as he tried to calm his highly displeased lover. The reaction Knockout gave him didn't make him feel any less determined with his goal. 

“I need a set of sharp pliers. There's a bullet fragment still in here.” Knockout's digit inched into the deep cavern of wound the vehicon drone shuddered with pain. The sensitive protoform within his shoulder-plate was exposed, and leaving the fragment in there would never let the gouge heal properly. 

“You know I'll give you whatever you need.”

“How about you drop it?” 

"How about you hold it."

Knockout's red optics widened, and he debated on whether or not he should hurl the cauterizing scalpel at the larger mech. “Enough!” The red medic said with a hiss before snatching the pliers out of his partner's servos.

After removing the plasma bullet fragment and completing the cauterization of the wound, the Vehicon designated as ST3V3 was evicted from the med-bay. Knockout shut the sliding doors and began logging all the services perfomed for that cycle within a data report for future reference. He had never seen so many patients at once, especially not when there weren't any instances of Autobot retaliation. 

“This cycle has been one of the worst in awhile -” Knockout's digit tapped rapidly against the datapad screen, furiously filing his own report. He knew his paint job looked like a wreck and that he would need a good polish and wax after a cleansing station visit.

“- You weren't here helping because you decided to go frag off to the armory room.” It wasn't often Knockout needed to scold the other mech. He was usually resourceful and there when he needed him, lately Breakdown’s been consistently absent from his duties and refusing to pick up extra shifts with him. The mech declined going out on a patrol of a newfound energonmine, which Knockout deemed to be completed out of character for him.

“I'm still missing almost every shot, I can see but at the same time I can't see slag! Everything just looks off, I've never felt so useless.” Both of the ex-wreckers servo’s slammed down on the medical berth in front of him out of frustration.

Knockout's posture softened, and his optic ridges slightly raised. Breakdown was being… vulnerable around him, this was rare. He knew the mech had been having some difficulties accustoming to his sight with the subtraction of an optic, but he wasn't aware of how critical the situation was. If anything he thought the mech was toughing it out like he did with everything else.

“Your vision, it'll take some time to restabilize. The lack of an optic is going to make things hard for you, but it won't be impossible.” The medic approached his partner and let his servo grasp the side of his faceplate. He'd never seen such defeat on the decepticon ex-wrecker before. 

“And you're not useless. I wouldn't be able to do this without you, and you know that BD.” The dermas of the two mechs came into contact with one another and that gave Breakdown all the permission he needed to pick up the smaller mech and pin him down on the medical berth. 

The size difference between the two of them wasn't as severe as it may have been amongst other cybertronian relationships but it definitely gave Breakdown the upper hand at being able to maneuver Knockout how he wanted. The connection of oral receptors continued as Knockout slipped his glossa in and danced it along Breakdown’s, enticing him of what was further to come. 

The ex-wrecker's thick digits circled around Knockout's interface panel before the plating willingly slid down with a hiss. The aroma of the red mech's dripping valve filled the med-bay, and Breakdown broke the kiss. 

“You're already ready for me?”

“You think I didn't enjoy your antics earlier?” Knockout vented deeply as Breakdown pressed a digit at his entrance before slowly sliding it in.

His lubricating slick coated the intruding digit, and the quick clenches of his valve walls urged it to start pumping. A growl left Knockout's vocal capacitor when a second digit joined refuge within his valve. Breakdown knew exactly how to angle his digits to make the medic's frame twitch and heave. A loud moan erupted from Knockout when one of Breakdown's digits began rubbing circles around his outer-node. 

“Tell me you need me.”

“Frag- I do!”

“Then say it.” Breakdown quickened the pace of his digits, and the lewd slick noises only became audibly louder with the furthering of Knockout's pleasure and excitement.

“I need you!” The medic's sharp digits dragged along the underneath of the medical berth leaving gashes across the underside. Breakdown's servo was showing his valve no mercy as it shamelessly guided him to a long and drawn out overload. It didn't take long for Knockout's walls to start to spasm and small spurts of lubrication to erupt from his valve. He rode out his climax with a guttural groan and a very brief rev of his engine. 

Even the interface panel housing his errect spike slid off to allow him to leak thick beads of blue transfluid from his tip. Only when the medic was coming from his high did he pay attention to his partner's thick spike leaning up against his own. Their size difference wasn't just on the outside, as Breakdown was a good size and a half larger than Knockout in the spike department.

Knockout could swear to primus they were made for each other with how well he'd fill his valve when they interfaced. Breakdown lined up the tip of his spike against the soft mesh valve folds in front of him before pushing forward to enter. The entry was quick and painless as Knockout's frame knew this game the two of them would play all too well. 

A beep went off on the docked datapad stationed at Knockout's desk, which indicated that there were new inbound patients to the med-bay. Knockout looked back over at the mech, who was currently still inside him, who bared the expression of a sad cyberfox pup who'd just been told to stop. 

“We're finishing this. They can wait... Besides, I still need you.” A smirk appeared on his faceplate, telling his partner that the two would have a much longer cycle ahead of them...

[tetrakys]

Hey Tetra, so how is the beta? What do you think of the game so far?

Sorry anon, I know I've been silent here, every time I think I want to make a post I never have enough time to make it as detailed as I used to, but never mind I'm going to give my quick opinion and then write something more in depth later.

So, first of all, I agree with everyone that the way the AP system is at the moment is too expensive. We pay 2AP for line of dialogue and many APs for choices. We get more free APs than in the past with the daily login, so that's a plus, but the choices are way too costly, especially the very basic ones (here called neutral choices), I shouldn't have to spend 40 APs to say I want a cup of tea! All that being said, I'm not too worried about it because I know that Chino has already reported this issue to management, and while these decisions are not up to her I know she sees the player's perspective and will do everything she can to make our voices heard.

Now, AP system aside, there are some things I really love!

Firstly, the website looks amazing, in the end it was worth the wait. It works super smoothly, and it's very pretty to look at.

And the closet/shop part is really easy to navigate, it's pretty much like the Sims so I'm used to it.

Also, the millennial in me who can't afford to buy her own home is really into the room decoration feature

I also enjoy the minigames. One is just like the explorations in Eldarya, but with no pet to feed, so it's a win to me. The other is outfit contests, we receive a theme and we can dress up our Candy and enrol in it. I am TERRIBLE at it, but even if you don't make it top3 you still win some APs and diamonds just for participating. You can also win stuff just by voting in the contest.

Now, to the story. The first episode was mostly an introduction so nothing much really happens, we just meet 4 of the LIs. It was cute, the mechanic is a bit tricky because we can't see immediately if the LoM increases or not, we find out at the end of the episode, but it's not nearly as bad as in ML, so I can deal with it. It's also possible to understand if the LI liked the interaction from their reactions. I think I'm starting to understand their personalities so I hope I'll get the hang of it when the game releases. I'm going to make a separate post about my impressions on the LIs, but I'm quite happy so far.

Something else I want to mention before ending this is a final pro and cons.

Cons, I don't like the "fairy". It's MC's godfather which is a cool character, apparently he is Agatha's cousin, that's nice. But he only brings gifts to Taki which I really don't care about, my duck will remain naked as nature intended. Or, anyway, I won't spend APs on it. I'm gonna try hard to avoid this guy, also because we have a choice to make with him and we can't skip it once we run into him.

The pro is instead the VIP system. From what I've seen, it looks very convenient. We get extra APs and diamonds every day, especially the diamonds it's a really good amount, which we can then exchange for more APs or cumulate to buy extra scenes (which are longer scenes with the LI). We also get some extra perks like an outfit, skip button for the replays, and extra jokers, which are little useful features that can be used in game. We don't know yet how much the VIP subscription costs, but if they stuck to the same prices as other game companies, it shouldn't be more than 10-15$.

And you anon, did you play the beta? Let me guys know what you think. People seem to be happy about most things except the AP system.

[laf-outloud]

Hi,

Here is the European Anon (or Troll as I am called at the moment). I would like to clarify a few things. I am a fan. Of the show, of the characters, of the two J's. That's the reason why the info about the contract could hurt me so much in the first place. Because this time it affected me myself. I've worked with stars who showed up to work (con) drunk. Who spent more time on Grindr than signing autographs. Who treated their Händlers like crap, while up front they were the loving, attentive star. You learn two things quickly in the businees. The manager is always right, and the star is never the bad guy. We had two guests from an equally famous CW show. The managers had agreed to a duo shoot. The problem was that they hated each other. In the sense of, we had to separate the two spatially, because otherwise it would have come to fisticuffs. The managers of both parties tried everything to make the duo shoot possible somehow and while one star finally agreed to get it over with "professionally", the other remained stubborn. The end? The duo was canceled with the reason "unforeseen scheduling difficulties" Well, sounds familiar? (No it's not Vampire Diaries, Paul and Ian are really like brothers, lol).

What you also learn very quickly. The fans forgive everything and the star is perfect in their eyes. No matter whether stars were bad-tempered, bitchy or sometimes even downright unfriendly, the fans always found an excuse for them, or in the end made us organizers responsible for it. Well, we can live with that, as long as people still pay for their tickets. At the end of the day it is a business.

Why am I writing this? So far it has never really affected me. For me, most of them are just people like you and me and I could deal with most of the stars in a really friendly or business way. But I've been a fan of Supernatural since the beginning. And then such an info is no longer professional but hurts.

I want to make it very clear that no SPN star I have ever dealt with has been unprofessional or unfriendly. Even though Misha's manager is a terrible woman, he himself was always polite to us as employees. And even from colleagues who have worked with J2 so far, there has never been a negative word.

That is why I was so looking forward to working with them. To be able to experience this famous friendship directly.

I am not so high in the hirachie that I get to read a direct correspondence of the management. I also can't say which Con I work for without risking my job. I know it's easier to make me out to be a liar than to accept that I might be right. I realize that and I can even understand that.

I've been sitting on this information for weeks, but who am I going to tell? Who believes me? I've talked to two close friends about it who are also fans and they didn't believe it either.

The trigger was the first reports from Charlotte. I have friends who are on site and yes, probably their euphoria and two glasses of wine on my part made me write to two people. Patrick (TFW) and LOL Jackles . Who I have found through Tumblr several times to be relatively fair and interested in facts. But there was no response. I was honestly taken aback by this, because even if they won‘t believe me, why not share the info anyway? Or at least respond to it? If there is nothing to what I say, then it could be quickly invalidated or? Unless the two know exactly that I'm right and are afraid of when it comes out.

I have written to you days later. you can look it up. I read post that you and others wondered why jared and jensen only come to different cons. That's why I thought, okay I'll send it again. I found your explanation of not posting it understandable and at least you didn't immediately ignore it. Thanks for that. that's also why I'm replying exclusively to you.

Again, I understand if you don't believe me. After all, I didn't want to believe my boss either. I thought he was just not willing to pay the 300 K (And that's what they cost each).

But now exactly what he said happens.

If I am telling the untruth, then why is Jared actually appearing at the same promoters (Monopoy Events, Entertainment Events Etc) on a different date than Jensen and always including Gen? And look at the line up of the English cons and tell me that you could not have paid Jared‘s fee to run various duo shots! If I'm lying, why is Creation now releasing the second convention for 2024 with only Jensen as headliner but not with Jared? It can't be the money, because Creation takes the same amount for the tickets as usual. And schedule difficulties during an official strike ? Hardly. You can call me a troll, but I am a fan as well, I know that you want to believe until the end that everything is good. But I just think the fans have at least a right to hear the truth. And that is that Jared's management will get away from creation cons in the future and will favor cons that Jensen doesn't attend.

Thank you for writing in, again. I'm sorry that because of the multiple asks, you've been classified as a troll. I've been on Tumblr long enough that I've seen multiple copy/paste asks and they most often are a troll, but I can see your reasoning. (I will say that TFW2.0 is a fan of Jensen first, so anything that could put him in a negative light will be summarily dismissed.)

I decided to post this response since your original ask seems to have been seen by multiple other people despite not being posted and I'll allow people to make up their own minds about what they want to believe.

I will say that Jared's absence from the con in July could be due to other reasons, like his standard summer vacation or birthday stuff, and June could be because he anticipates that they might be filming Walker into the summer, depending on how long the strike lasts.

When it comes to doing cons with or without Jensen, I know my initial response was regarding Jared's mental health, but it could also be a strategic business decision. Jared may want to distance himself from SPN (and Jensen) to open up other acting/producing opportunities. It's not always advantageous to just be known as "one of those guys from SPN." He's said before that he enjoys producing and I'm sure he knows Walker isn't going to last forever. An actor/producer's career shouldn't be defined by one role. He may also be promoting Gen to help increase her profile if they plan on producing together in the future. I'm sure there are some who, if they believe it's true, will take it personally, but it really may just be a business decision.

Either way, thank you for sharing. And if there are people who agree/disagree and decide to write to me with their rebuttals, please remember to do so respectfully. I won't post anything with accusatory language, insults, or outright dismissals.

[friendly-neighbourhood-spiderm4n]

Was wondering if you’d be able to write an Eddie Munson one shot/imagine with Hoppers (Gn) kid. :)

A/N - Yes. Definitely. Absolutely. (I am currently binge watching Gravity Falls.)

“Hey, officer! We need to report a crime!” Jason, and two of his friends ran up to you. You knew they were some of the kids from the basketball team, considering when you tried to have a conversation with Lucas, it’s all he would talk about.

“Yeah? What is it?” You didn’t like him, he seemed like a popular douchebag.

“It’s Eddie! He’s dating someone thats as hot as you!” He was grinning, his two friends behind him laughing.

“Haha, you’re so fucking funny. Get out of here before I punch your fucking teeth out.”

“Officer! Relax, we’re just having fun. Did you forget what that is?” He still didn’t know how to fuck off, did he?

“I have more fun writing papers then your girlfriend could ever have riding your dick, cunt. Now screw off.” You walked away, leaving the stunned possum there to be mocked by his friends.

“What they want?” Dustin came up to you, and now walked alongside you.

“What do you think? They almost always mess with me. It started right after-“

“You arrested Jason cause you caught him underage drinking, I know. By the way, Eddie is looking for you, he wants to show you something.” Dusting grabbed you by the forearm and walked you somewhere.

“I’m guessing you know but you’re not going to tell me cause he told you keep it secret?”

“Yep.”

“Wonderful. How’s your mom doin’?”

“She’s fine, she’s nearly always fine unless she can’t find me.”

“Hey! Remember, I have to keep a close eye on everyone and their cats. Especially considering my dad was chief of police. I have a major role to step up too, and it’s not easy when everyone considers you a joke cause you’re barely out of high school.”

“I see where you’re coming from, but I feel like I may be the wrong person to complain to. Nancy would understand better than anyone.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just frustrated is all. How’s hellfire doin’?”

“It’s going great. Mine and Mike’s costume shirts are almost done. Thanks for telling us about the club, we might’ve found out too late otherwise.”

“Nah, Eddie would’ve let you join, he likes you both. That and I would have convinced him to if he had told you no.”

“Yeah, cause we’re your favourite teenagers and you love us.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Henderson.” You watched in amusement as he turned to you, mouth agape and brows furrowed, looking insulted.

You chuckled, it was easy to annoy the kid. He was loveable, but slightly gullible.

"Well, are you at least telling me where we're going? You've dragged me nearly across the school."

"Parking lot."

"How many bullies you got so far?"

"I don't know, at least 12 though."

"R.I.P."

"Whatever, we're here. Eddie!" Dustin stopped you at Eddies old van. The side door opened and Eddie stepped out.

"Hello Love." He pulled your hand up, and kissed your knuckles. "I hope my friend treated with respect."

"I've known him way longer then you have Munson. Second, he treats me with respect cause he knows ill beat his ass."

"They'vedone it before."

"I hit you once."

"I still threw up."

"Hey, treat my guy/gal with respect!!"

"Sorry."

"Yeah, anyway, look here." Eddie pulled you towards the van, the door he existed still open.

When you peered inside, it was a mini cuddle space. Blankets, pillows, and two containers with music and candy. Fairy lights were hung around the posters that were on the vans walls.

"Holy shit! This is epic! Did you do this today?"

“Yeah, I skipped my last two periods to work on it beanie.”

“What have I said about skipping school? You can get in trouble for that shit. And don’t act like you don’t fucking know.”

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but I really wanted it to be special for you." He cupped your face with both his hands, smiling down at you softly.

"It is, but don't skip class for me, Dork. I thought 86' was your year?"

"It is baby, I promise. Just thought I should surprise you is all, you deserve to be spoiled.”

“That sounds sweet and cheesy. Let’s go!”

You climbed into the back of his van and sat down on the blankets. Eddie grinned and closed the door, walking around and jumping into the drivers seat.

“Where are we off to?”

“A cliff of sorts, I wanna stare gaze and snuggle up with you in the blankets.”

He chuckled. “Can do babe, but it won’t be dark for a few more hours. Wanna do anything in between then?”

“Ice cream?”

<3.

[justifiedthoughts]

Preventive Measures? What Preventive Measures? | Sicktember 2023

Ao3 Link

I am very late to this, but in my defense, I got a block halfway through writing it and couldn't work on anything else until I did finish.

Prompt(s): [1] Hopelessly Bad at Self-Care [5] Preventive Measures (Not Taken) [25] Confused/Disoriented

Fandom: Genshin Impact Character(s): Il Dottore, Pantalone, Capitano Relationship: Capitano/Il Dottore/Pantalone (not specifically mentioned) Warnings: None.

"Where in a certain banker stayed out in the cold snow for a bit to long, and didn't take any measures of keeping himself warm enough during or after that point in time."

Pantalone is only mildly irritated, yet not surprised, when he wakes up shivering heavily, instinctively tugging the comforter further up to tightly wrap around himself. He spends but a minute drowsily trying to blink away the sleep from his eyes before he reaches out from his little cocoon, fumbling around his bedside table for a short moment in search of his glasses.

When he does eventually find them, he pushes himself to leave his bed, rushing to pull on his usual clothes to hopefully stave off the cold a bit. Even when dressed with his usual fur coat, his shivering doesn’t lessen even slightly. However, he doesn’t spare much time to be confused over that - he has a lot of work to catch up on today, considering he had spent far longer than he meant to out in the field the day before.

Instead, he simply reaches into his medicine cabinet to take some basic cold medicine - just in case if he’s actually coming down with something - before moving to migrate to his office. Which is, unfortunately, relatively the same temperature as the rest of Zapolyarny Palace, but there’s not much he can do for that besides make sure the windows are shuttered and the fireplace lit.

Those two, of course, are the things he does first upon reaching said office of his. He struggles longer than usual with lighting the fire though, his hands trembling from shivers as he tries to light a match, but soon enough there’s a steady fire going to hopefully warm the room up at least a bit.

Looking over at his desk, Pantalone quietly sighs to himself and organizes a few things throughout the room before finally sitting down, pulling over one of the papers from yesterday that he missed due to his outing.

“Regrator, I have a proposition!”

Il Dottore - the Prime, this time around - slams the door open, grinning widely from a combination of his new, phenomenal idea - of which he’s going to need funding for, of course; why else would he be here? - and having completely terrified the guard standing outside the room prior to bursting in as he has just done.

When he actually catches sight of the other Harbinger, he frowns at the absolute lack of any sort of cutting retort, as the other usually tends to do. Instead, the Ninth seems to be staring down blankly at a sheet of paper - probably some nonsensical monetary report, maybe the Eleventh spent ten million mora on a meal in Liyue again!

The Doctor strides towards Pantalone, curiously leaning down to catch his eye once he’s close. They’re glassy, which is certainly an odd deviation from how the banker usually presents himself. Always so fastidious about himself, from his appearance to his evident attention - most of the Harbingers know to simply come to him if they missed something in a recent meeting; even Tartaglia, the youngest and easily the most naive of them all, has learned how to be roundabout in netting any required information during one of the Ninth’s heretic rants.

Disregarding that matter for the moment though, Dottore’s frown only deepens when Pantalone snaps out of his little haze, the man barely moving beyond the shivers he’s been under this entire time, as well as slightly rotating his head to look at Dottore.

“You were… quick today, Dottore..” He fully scowls when the man struggles to pick up his pen - it’s just a pen, and an easy one to hold, at that! - reaching out to stop the Regrator from moving any further. He recoils slightly when he feels how cold Pantalone is - just slightly, for his lab is also rather freezing, though he certainly didn’t expect to feel that same relative temperature on the skin of his dear banker - but doesn’t stop holding his wrist. Cold, very cold; shivering; clearly disoriented and tired; an inability to easily grab onto things..

“Ignorant imbecile,” Dottore sighs, tugging Pantalone’s chair away from his desk. The Doctor ignores the other’s belated protests as he hoists him up into his arms - for all the Ninth tries to struggle, it’s a rather pathetic attempt, as he doesn’t even cause Dottore any issue as he carries him out of his office - once again scaring the guard stationed outside it half to death.

Rather than bring him to his lab - which certainly won’t be any help at all, not with how cold it is in there - Dottore takes Pantalone over to one of the warmest rooms in the palace, second only to the gardens and installed by the very banker within his arms. Who, it seems, has given up on trying to get down and has instead resorted to occasionally - yet weakly - attempting to punch him. Which, of course, does nothing in regards to freeing him. 

When they’re almost there, Pantalone sighs quietly and completely gives up in any escape attempts. Dottore grins and immediately deposits him onto the couch, pulling a blanket over him with all the flourish that is expected of one of his younger segments - a bit too energetic for anyone else to deal with; not that he cares, of course.

“Stay right here, Regrator, and I shall be back!” 

He cackles as he strides off towards the kitchen, leaving the freezing banker to uncomfortably doze, shivers wracking his body as he absentmindedly fumbles with pulling the blanket closer to himself. It takes a long time for him to even think of responding, and even with no one else around to hear he sounds pathetic.

“As if I can even move..”

It hasn’t been long enough for the Doctor to finish whatever-it-is he’s doing in the kitchen before somebody else disturbs Pantalone, as he feels something heavy, yet warm, drop onto him - nigh on knocking the breath out of his body - and someone sits next to him.

Blearily opening his eyes, he glances to his right and only gets slightly startled at the hulking form of Capitano, who is supposedly staring right at him - not that he can really tell, considering the Captain’s helm and its solid darkness. But, it is pointed in his direction, and it’s generally the thought that counts anyway.

“Regrator.”

“C-Captain.” Mentally, Pantalone curses his shivering, as his teeth chatter lightly. 

“You’re cold.” “Maybe so, yes.”

The silence that comes after their very brief conversation is a comfortable one, rather unlike most silences that Pantalone has with his other fellow Harbingers - those silences tend to be rather awkward, full of words that none of them will say. Mostly because they’re either spiteful ones that need not be stated within their positions, or terms that need not be said for already being known and understood.

Of course, that’s not to say that there aren’t outliers, but Pantalone prefers to put Dottore and Tartaglia into their own little group, rather than factor them into his internal comparisons.

He’s startled out of his thoughts when Capitano places a surprisingly warm hand on his head, effectively mussing up his hair. Hesitating, he eventually just sighs and burrows deeper into his blanket - and apparently Capitano’s coat, too - cocoon. If today’s the day that everyone decides to be all touchy-feely with him, then what power does he have to stop them; especially considering he can’t even hold a pen, for Tsaritsa’s sake!

While Pantalone begins to lightly doze again, the Captain keeps a hand on his head, and they remain like that even when Dottore returns. With more blankets. And a steaming cup.

Pantalone grunts when Dottore haphazardly drops all of the blankets onto him, leaving either him or Capitano to figure out placements - more likely Capitano, since the doctor then shoves the steaming cup - of tea, apparently. He didn’t realize that Dottore could make tea without burning the water - into the Ninth’s hands; when he protests due to the heat, said doctor merely replies, in false cheer, “Good to hear that you’re more aware, dear Regrator! Now, drink up!”

“I-” “Drink.”

Pantalone sighs, but does as ordered with obvious reluctance, only to immediately let a grimace cross his face the moment the liquid touches his tongue.

“It’s scalding,” he complains, holding the cup away from himself with all the delicacy of the rich, picky banker that he is.

“And you’re freezing.” Dottore shoves it back at him, nearly causing it to spill over him. At this point, Capitano finally reaches over to put a hand between them, plucking the cup from Pantalone’s hands to spend a brief burst of cryo energy - courtesy of his vision - in order to cool the cup slightly. Only slightly, so that it’ll still be hot, but not so much that Pantalone would have to burn his tongue.

“Drink the tea,” he commands, handing the cup back to the banker - who carefully takes it in his hands and does as asked, only to be pleasantly surprised at how the tea is, in fact, no longer burn-his-tongue hot.

“Oh, so you’ll willingly obey the Captain, but not me, the literal Doctor. I see how it is.” Dottore openly sulks, laying it on thick as he sits on the coffee table without a care for how dirtied he’s making it. However, he squawks in a completely undignified - when did he ever have proper dignity, though? - manner when he’s abruptly plucked up off of said table and set on one of the many plush armchairs spread throughout the room. He cranes his head up at the first chance to glare at Capitano, for who else would have done that?

Of course, his glare isn’t as effective as it could’ve been, considering his mask, but it’s thought that counts - or, at least, that’s what Pantalone always says. 

Once they’re a bit apart, though, both the Regrator and the Doctor finally stop sniping at each other. As Pantalone quietly sips at his drink, buried under at least half a dozen blankets, Dottore pulls out a small chaos core and begins to fiddle around with it - pulling it apart and rearranging it - and Capitano silently heaves a sigh of relief from having nipped that small argument in the bud.

[theviolenttomboy]

Ooh boy, feel like this reddit comment is something all fandoms have to remember, or at least anyone dealing with an IP they don't own.

link here: [x]

Not the first time fan creators have gone too far in promoting and attempting to commercialize their works. Star Trek has a long history of fan works and CBS/Paramount historically gave tacit permission as long as the works were not made for profit. The best example is Star Trek: New Voyages, a fan continuation of the original series started in 2004. New Voyages was a serious effort with standing sets, contributions from former Star Trek actors, writers, and production staff, and even managed to get George Takei and Walter Koenig to reprise their TOS roles in a couple of episodes. But the key was New Voyages was explicitly a not-for-profit endeavor. That changed with Prelude to Axanar. Yes, I am aware there is a lot of drama regarding Axanar's production in and of itself that would probably qualify for its own r/hobbydrama post. But the bottom line is Axanar specifically promised professional quality production, writing, and acting and initially raised over $100,000 in crowdfunding with an additional $600,000 raised toward a future feature-length release. It was an openly commercial production, selling merchandise and paying actors and production staff. Axanar was announced in 2014, in the same timeframe as the new movies and clearly was a direct commercial competitor to CBS/Paramount. It attracted a lot of attention, being shown at SDCC, starred established actors like Kate Vernon and J. G. Hertzler, and was reported on by many industry blogs. Unsurprisingly, CBS sued the production (though settled out of court) and additionally instituted severe restrictions on any future Star Trek fan works. Among other things, any potential work cannot be longer than 30 minutes total, can at most have 2 episodes ever, can not involve any current or former Star Trek actor, production staff member, or writer, and cannot raise more than $50,000 in donations. And needless to say, must be distributed entirely at no charge and without any supplementary advertising revenue. Axanar's fallout also killed New Voyages, which shut down in 2016 as it couldn't continue with the new restrictions.

Basically, yes you can take in some money but there are limits, and if you go too far, others who absolutely were playing within the safe zone are gonna get hit in the crossfire and that safe zone is gonna shrink.

[wyrdle]

Summary: Clavell and Tyme head to Geeta’s office to discuss what to do after the events of Area Zero, and Clavell finds support, comfort and space to grieve.

Clavell POV, Clavell centric fic.

Characters: Clavell, Geeta, Tyme. Bonus Poppy briefly.

CW: angstttttttt, major character death, discussions of grief, neglect and therapy

Wordcount: about 2k ( i got carried away and am not very good at writing anything concise lol)

AN: There’s *some* hints of Clavell/Turo/Sada or Zerotrioshipping, but you can read that as them being closer friends than they were in canon and breaking apart. Maybe some hints of Stemshipping. This story works with my idea on mashing the scarlet and violet stories together, events being largely the same end results despite 2 professors and 2 ai versions of them. Also very liberal changes/tweaks to things in canon, just to be able to explain how so much oversight occurred.

Some inspo from both @k-chips heart wrenching art and @ameftowriter‘s painfully cathartic fic which you should totally check out!!!!!!!!!!! Anway, enjoyyyyy I hope lol

"Director, Tyme, good morning." The chairwoman greets them with a smile from her desk, clean and tidy despite the immense workload Clavell knows she has. She waves them both in to sit, and Clavell has to hide a wince from how his back ached more than usual even in the comfortable chairs.

It has been a really long week.

"Boss! I got you cookies from Cortondo!" A child's voice almost sing songs, followed by the impatient rap on the door. 

"Come in." Geeta's gaze softens, to Clavell's mild amusement. He watches the little girl totter past himself and Tyme to place a tray of cookies and tea on the Chairwoman's desk. 

"Thank you, Poppy, that's sweet of you. Tell Rika I said hello and will chat with her after this."

"Okay boss! Be sure to have the ones shaped like Smoliv first, they're still warm from the oven!" She chirps, watching the chairwoman grab one before nodding in satisfaction. Poppy's gaze on both himself and Tyme prompted them both to follow suit, the too sweet treat raising his spirits just a bit. Pleased, Poppy left, a skip in her step. Clavell couldn't help the brief smile on his lips as the door clicked shut.

How curious that Miss Poppy was so adorable with the chairwoman, yet so notoriously terrifying in the battle arena.

"Thank you for coming,"Geeta says, taking off her work glasses to give Clavell and Tyme her full attention. "There is much to update."

Right. Clavell clenches his jaw, expression serious, more on edge than he has ever been in meetings with his superior. Typically, he could reciprocate the Top Champion's professional courtesy and kindness easily, but the topic of their meeting this time was one he dreaded.

"Yes."

"Firstly, the Area Zero expedition." Geeta starts, shutting her eyes to breathe in before continuing. To those that didn't know her as well as those she worked closely with, the gesture gave her the air of authority. To Clavell, it was a rare sign of tiredness from La Primera. 

"The league has so far contained about 95% of the ‘Paradox’ Pokemon, with transfer of them to the temporary League containment facility going smoothly. Hassel reports that they'll be done in just a few more days. According to Larry however… clearing out the professor's notes and labs will take a bit longer."

It had been a week since four children stumbled into Clavell’s office, reporting about strange future and past Pokemon, the Miraidons and Koraidons, as well as… The two professor's deaths. 

Clavell felt his heart tighten, clenching his fists in his lap.

"Did you… find his body?" He could feel more than see Tyme's look of concern from beside him. 

"No. Apparently the AIs had Professor Turo's body cremated and contained into a 3D printed urn. Larry should be directing for it to be sent here by the evening. The other however…"

It was Clavell's turn to sigh tiredly, pushing up his glasses in habit.

"My condolences, Director."

He had yet to process properly, how two of his dearest friends and ex-colleagues had died to a folly of a dream.

First was professor Sada, just a year before the first appearance of Miraidon and Koraidon. Killed by the very machine she created in a miscalculation, according to the children's stories. 

Next, was her husband, driven mad by grief and ambition, seeking to complete the dream he shared with his dead wife… only to be slaughtered by the very Pokemon he sought to find. 

Paldea's greatest minds, killed by their own devotion to their dreams.

All this, because of stories from some books.

Bitterly and with well contained anger, Clavell regrets not stepping in sooner, and checking in on the two professors to, pardon his language, smack sense into them. 

Combined with the heartache of losing not one, but two of his once close friends, almost family, once upon a time. 

The wounds never quite healed when he had split from the group, their disagreement on the Paradise project creating an unmendable rift. Taking Arven in had soothed it, and time had given him other things to focus on, but he felt it torn asunder, pulled wider and bleeding more profusely than ever before.

Idiots, both of them. And he knew, because between the trio he was the one who spared his heart and concern for two professors of fiery mind and spirit. The caution and concern was thrown to the wind for Paradise, along with his disapproval of their new proposed project.

"Isn't the Tera Orb enough?" He had asked once, voice deceptively level and contained, belaying the anger and hurt that seethed underneath. To suggest that he didn't understand, to believe him weak to his compassion, to think him dispensable for their pet project— that hurt most of all. 

Clavell wasn’t needed for their time machine project, but so were a lot of things. The duo hadn’t required corporate funding anymore, not that they would get any despite their notoriety. The Scarlet and Violet books were fairy tales, afterall. 

Everything, even their own son, was less important than Paradise.

Arven and him found each other, after both being abandoned by the professors, albeit in slightly different circumstances.

“I’m sorry, Director, for this oversight.” Blinking out of his thoughts, Clavell saw the Chairwoman level him with a sympathetic gaze, while Tyme’s warm hand patted his arm.

“When the professors approached me years ago, when I had first accepted this position, I had given them the approval for their studies.” Geeta sighed, leaning forward on her desk to clasp her fingers and rest her forehead on them. 

“I was given barebones details of their Paradise project, a study of the fauna in Area Zero was the lie they told me, but the mistake of not looking closer is mine.” Geeta explains. “I had relied on their reputation, and as the new league chairperson inheriting a position after the Tera Orb discoveries, I admit to wanting to see what else they could offer Paldea.”

Turo and Sada’s project had been entirely self-funded for lack of a corporate sponsor, giving them free reign of the labs in Area Zero and little to no scrutiny of their work. It was why they had no staff, relying later on additional AI help. The Academy/League funded labs were going to go unused after the Tera Orbs, and were going to be considered a write off paid for by them. 

There wasn’t anything left to dig into in Area Zero, if the brilliant professors of Paldea thought otherwise and were willing to pursue it themselves, why not? All that was left was some formal approval.

“I saw little issue in allowing them to continue within the facilities that would be solely maintained by them, neglecting the ramifications of under regulated research.” Geeta searched her pockets for her pokeball, gazing at it thoughtfully. From the special purple and red bands on its casing, it was her signature Glimmora, a pokemon that had become the symbol of Area Zero and the success of Paldea’s brightest. “Like most Paldeans, their reputation blinded me to their faults.”

“What’s important now is resolving all of this.” Tyme chimed in, who had been quiet for the most part, but listening intently. 

Geeta smiled at her appreciatively, sharing a look with the older woman. The two had known each other for longer than Clavell and her, afterall. 

“Correct. I thank you both sincerely for your help and support. This tragedy is not without its heroes.” 

Tyme huffed, in the familiar way Clavell knew and found oddly soothing, diffusing the tension of the room. 

“I’m just the Academy’s Deputy Director, boss.” She was much more than that, Clavell thought with a small smile.

“Now then, what of the children?” Geeta asked.

Clavell swallowed. He could not allow himself to be wrapped up in his anger and grief, not when children depended on him. Not when there was so much work to be done to prevent such trauma from his precious students.

“Each of their guardians have been alerted about having them go for therapy, and all teaching staff have been advised to provide additional support. For the long term, we’ve hired additional staff for on-campus counselling, and student support services will be expanding on their services in the coming semester.” Clavell reported, ticking off his long mental checklist of things to do.

Even if he was grieving, even if he was exhausted mentally and physically, his student’s care came first.

Even if the fault was not his whatsoever as the chairwoman had so explained, he couldn’t help the guilt.  

I should check on each of the four personally, after this. He noted to himself.

“Good, we’ll have a discussion on further budget changes soon to improve student wellbeing. Please propose any solutions you think will be of benefit, I will do my best to accommodate and support.” Geeta nodded, a sign of the meeting coming to an end. “If there is nothing else, I hope you two have a good day ahead.”

“Thank you, La Primera.” Clavell replied, mind already racing to the first of many tasks he had as he stood. Before he could leave however, the chairwoman directed her piercing gaze at him.

“Ah, there is one more thing, Director. Please take some time for yourself, as well.” 

Clavell’s eyes widened, straightening his back as he stared back in befuddlement.

“As your boss, I should not overstep my bounds to push or lecture, but I do think given the… events…” Deaths, Clavell’s mind whispered cruelly, Turo and Sada are both dead. Dead and his last attempt to reach them for Arven’s sake had been pitiful, in his eyes. “I want to emphasise that care for your students should not mean neglecting your own wellbeing. If not for your sake, then theirs.”

If he had tried harder, if he had insisted more, could they both have still been alive? Could Arven have had his mother, and his true father instead? 

Would things have gone differently, had he stayed with them in Area Zero?

“You’ve done exceptionally well as the Academy’s director, and I have no doubt you will continue to excel. Where the previous director made mistakes he did not mend, your perseverance to fix and improve things for your students is admirable.” 

Clavell flushes slightly at the reminder that Tyme had informed Geeta of his Clive disguise to help Team Star, who had smiled and nodded, even praised him for his efforts. 

“To have someone who treasures the students and trainers of Paldea as much as I do, I am thankful.” Geeta smiled sadly but sincerely, dropping her usual business facade to empathise with him. 

“What I’m saying is, if you need to, do take the time off. I’m sure the Academy’s staff, even the League, will be there to support you. A lot has happened, and I believe, both as your superior and acquaintance, that no one would fault you for needing time.”

Clavell stilled, blinking at the chairwoman for a bit before Tyme’s grasp on his arm pulled him out of his shock.

“I- Thank you, La Primera.” He said, making sure his voice didn’t waver too much and the tears that pricked his eyes did not fall. Tyme’s presence by his side was a helpful steadying one. “Take care, Clavell, Tyme.”

===

“She’s right, you know.” Tyme said nonchalantly, when they exited the League together and breathed in the fresh Paldean air.

Clavell turned to her, about to retort about the large amount of things that were left to do.

“Uhp.” She lifted a finger to shut him up, huffing with exasperation at the man whose compassion and kindness was both a point of endearment and frustration. “You heard the boss.”

He understood, of course. Had given the same advice to other students and staff, even. 

Applying it to himself was just difficult.

Maybe it was because it was easier to help with other’s hurts than address his own. Turo and Sada hurt many, including himself, but paying attention to others’ wounds was easier than looking back at his own painful memories.

Of late night lab sessions, shared coffee, even jokes and jabs made in fatigue. Small and big wins celebrated between them, disappointments divided and beared by all of them. Together, they were unstoppable.

But he had misjudged his role and importance in their lives.

Once he was the heart of their group, the one that tempered their fiery passion and energy, mediated how completely opposite the two professors were. Wedged between them, or the bridge between them, an essential part of the team.

Abandoned, all the same. 

And now? After all that?

There was never going to be a chance to mend.

Clavell doesn’t realise he’s crying until Tyme hugs him, rubbing soothing circles into his back as he quietly sobs, dampening the fabric at her shoulder. The deputy director cooed some comforting words, pulling Clavell close as he fell apart in her arms.

“You matter too, Clavell.” Tyme whispered, letting him expel some of the complicated emotions he had been withholding for everyone’s sake. Even when Arven had cried into his shoulder, he had held back for the boy’s sake, not wanting a child to bear the brunt of his grief.

Clasping his hand gently and with kindness Clavell himself had run dry of, Tyme held him. She waited patiently for him to compose himself, breath shaky but better than the pitiful noises he was making before. 

“You’ll be alright.”

Shutting his eyes and focusing on the warmth beside him, Clavell hoped he would be someday, too.

[expectos-writings]

Hey 👋 can you also do another Bobby Hicks x female reader from the spicy list #34 and #51? Please and thank you 🙏

So it took me far to long to update again but I AM STILL HERE hahaaaa. Take that academic world!

Florida heat (Bobby Hicks x reader)

Word count: 3127

Rating: M

Summary: As an intern for Bobby he has come to appreciate everything you do for him, but when you lay there sunbathing by the pool on a sunny day off he can no longer stop the longing he has felt for you.

Two more days.

You’ve got this.

You try to talk some courage into you whilst getting the cleaning kit out of the cupboard. Some crazy lady dropped some food in the main corridor when she was refused a room. And as an intern, it was now your job to clean it up.

But only two more days.

The internship wasn’t that bad. It got you the college credits you were still missing and you got to spend the summer in Florida, who wouldn’t want that? That, and the fact that your supervisor, mr. Hicks, was very easy on the eye. Bobby usually didn’t take in any students, he was too busy keeping everything on track by himself to train another person. But when he heard how much experience you already had and how far along you were in your study, he decided to take the chance. A pair of extra arms wouldn’t hurt.

But he had not taken into account that you were stunning, clever, eager to learn and most of all… a huge distraction. He knew it was wrong to look at you like that, he was practically your boss. He just couldn’t help his eyes wandering over to you whenever you were standing behind the counter and he was on the computer. Whenever you’d catch him staring he usually comes up with a lame excuse, like ‘I was just making sure you were doing things right’. He knew damned well you were more than capable enough to handle the few people coming in and out every day.

But it never registered that the reason why you always seemed to catch him looking is because you were also constantly looking his way. Whenever he would catch you staring at him your excuse would be something along the lines of ‘I wanted to ask you a question.’, followed by the dumbest possible question you could think of. Bobby never believed that lame excuse, but he never mentioned that either.

Now you were cleaning up the mess that Karen had made. The people here never seemed to have manners. The weather in Florida was always terribly hot, and you could feel a bead of sweat running down your temple to your cheek. The Karen that had made the mess was luckily the only person that had come to the motel today, and the rest of the rooms were empty now. Your internship was due to end just after the high season and the last few days were just cleaning up and getting ready to write a report and go back to school.

Bobby was watching you work from his office. He stood up, pretending he had to fix the wires behind the computer. But really it was just an excuse to watch you mop the floor clean. Your shorts hugging your butt perfectly, your light shirt getting wet from the sweat and moist air… he shakes his head and looks back at the screen. He can’t think of you like that.

You finish cleaning up the floor and stand up. You can feel someone staring at you so you turn around, already knowing it’d be Bobby staring back at you from the doorway.

‘Y/n, working as hard as ever I see.’ He muses.

‘You know it.’ You shoot him a wink when you throw the trash in the bin. ‘Though, today has been quite relaxed. No new check ins, only people leaving. In fact, I’m not sure anyone is staying in the magic castle at the moment.’

‘You’re right, from today there are no bookings. High season is over so I don’t really expect anyone here except junkies looking for a cheep room.’ You chuckle at his words, he cracks a smile in return. You walk over to the counter to get rid of the cleaning utilities. Bobby’s eyes linger on your form for a moment too long, and you notice him staring.

‘So, you have any other tasks for me?’ you ask, your tone playful but also not inappropriate. You walk past him, making sure to brush your bare arm against his. The skin to skin contact sends sparks through your body. When you put the cleaning materials in the lower drawer your eyes move back to him. You can’t help but look at the muscles on his legs, going up into his wide shorts. When you catch yourself staring you blink rapidly to break the contact and move back to the drawer, putting everything back where you took it from.

‘Actually,’ he starts when you stand up, ‘I know tomorrow is your last day. It is also terribly hot outside and there are no guests to help at the moment. I suggest you take the rest of the day off, cool down at the pool, do whatever. If I need you tomorrow I know where to find you, but for now I think you’ve done enough. Thanks for your help.’ His tone was sincere, you had done a great deal of work around the motel in the last few weeks. And you were definitely not going to object to an afternoon off.

So you thanked Bobby an took his offer. The rest of the day went by in a haze. You wasted no time in putting on your swimming clothes and getting situated by the pool. The cool water was very welcome on a day like this. You alternated between cooling off in the water and laying on one of the poolside beds tanning and occasionally dozing off for a bit. Bobby watched you from a distance, seeing you enjoy your free time and catch up on some much needed rest reassured him he had made the right decision in giving you a day off.

 It was only when the sun started setting Bobby actually made his way towards you. You were soaking up the last rays of sunshine of the day, eyes closed and laying on your back on one of the poolside beds. It wasn’t until you head Bobby clear his throat behind you that you were alerted to his presence. Lazily you open one eye to look in his general direction. He was standing next to your seat, sitting down on the plastic bed next to you when you acknowledged his presence.

‘So, how did you enjoy your day off?’ Bobby spoke up, starting the conversation.

Your eyes gazed at the sky, the sun was already starting to set.

‘It was nice to enjoy the place a bit before having to leave’ you answer with a smile

‘So… working here wasn’t enjoyable?’ he asked with a smirk.

‘No! I mean, yes it was. I just meant that it was nice to enjoy some time off whilst here, too.’ You quickly defended. Bobby chuckled from next to you as a blush crept onto your cheeks.

‘I was just kidding, darling.’ He said. Your head snapped to look at him at this unexpected term of endearment. Of course, it was a term often used by many people for many reasons. But in your mind you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he meant something more… The blush spreading on your cheeks becomes more of a crimson shade. Would he notice? Oh God… what if he did?

‘I… I think I’m going for a swim.’ You promptly announce.

‘You do look awfully hot.’ He says with a smirk.

You look back at him, having already crossed half the distance to the pool, in complete shock. Why would he say something like that? What is going on? You felt like you had a sunburn. Bobby clears his throat at your awkward expression.

‘From the sun… I mean.’ He adds unconvincingly with half a smile. Words caught in your throat. You wanted to ask him what he meant but at the same time you were convinced your mind was making things up now. Maybe you were still asleep on the lounge bed next to the pool and this was just a dream? You quickly turned your head back to the pool and without a second thought jumped in. the water was colder than it had been earlier that day, but it wasn’t as cold as it would be in the mornings. But one thing was clear now, this definitely was no dream. The need for air became clear after a few seconds, the cool of the water knocked half of the air out of your lungs upon entering the pool.

With your head towards the sky you resurfaces, making your hair slick against the back of your head and water drip down your back. Bobby’s eyes were still focussed on you, his stare burning in the back of your head.

Bobby couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The way you gracefully waded through the water to cool down, the way the last sunlight illuminated your facial features is the most beautiful way… he had grown very fond of you over the time you had worked for him. Too fond maybe… but still his eyes could not look away. You had worked so hard the last weeks, and he had nothing but praise for you. That would definitely reflect in the assessment he had to fill out for you. But he felt a pull towards you. And with the way you looked right now, carelessly wading through the water… Bobby couldn’t stop himself as he took of his shirt and trousers to join you in the water. He wanted to see you like this from up close, knowing it may be one of the last days he had with you here.

Your mind had started to wander in the water. Soon you were to go back to your college, back to your ‘old’ life. Old routines… And by God you didn’t want to. You had enjoyed the work there so much that you’d rather stay here to work. But you also knew you had to get your degree first.

But your train of thought was interrupted as you heard the water splash behind you. You turned around just in time to see Bobby resurface and wipe the water from his eyes and his now wet hair from his forehead. You stifled a laugh at his expression. He looked like a drowning dog.

‘Oh that is COLD’ he exclaimed.

The laugh you held back escaped your throat anyways. Bobby smiled back at you even though he was looking miserable in the cooling water. But then again, it was his choice to jump in. He casually walked over to where you were wading through the pool, his arms crossed over his chest to find any form of warmth.

This, however, left his face exposed.

You waited until he was close enough to you. He was about to open his mouth to make small talk or something, when you caught him off guard by splashing water in his direction, hitting him square in the face.

‘Oh you little-‘ Is all Bobby got out before you did it again. It was good to let some steam off at the end of the day. He took a moment to regain his composure, but when he did it was your time to flee. He kept chasing you around the pool whilst you tried to either swim away or keep him at distance with water. The sun went down quickly and before you knew it the automatic lights of the pool went on due to lack of light. That one second distraction was enough for Bobby to finally catch up with you.

You feel two strong calloused hand grab you by the waist, and you laugh out.

‘Gotcha!’ he says playfully.

You turn around in his grip to face him, your smile meeting his.

Bobby’s eyes drop to your lips, unable to stop himself. You catch the movement and the smile on your lips falters, anticipation pooling in your chest. What was happening? You never expected your boss to feel that way. You had dreamt of it during your internship, sure. But this was different from another daydream you would have whilst lying in your bed.

You hadn’t even noticed the gap between the two of you closing, his lips almost brushing yours but not yet touching.

‘I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional.’ You hear Bobby breathe the words out softly.

‘I don’t think I want you to.’ You breathe back.

And that is all the confirmation he needs before crashing his lips to yours.

Time stands still as your hands land on his toned chest, your lips moving together as if they were meant to be. Bobby seemed to have forgotten all about the chill of the water the moment you press your body up into him. The feeling of your thinly covered body pressing against his warming him up from the inside, and some more than that.

But the cool water did affect both of your lung capacities, and the need for air became apparent more quickly than either of you had wanted. After breaking the kiss Bobby wasted no time in trailing his hands up your sides towards your chest, carefully cupping one breast in his hand and tweaking a hard nipple between his thumb and finger. Your breath catches in your throat. The adrenaline spiking in your body from the possibility of getting caught and the thrill of finally having your feelings for your almost ex-supervisor out in the open.

‘Wait…’ you moan out but make no move to remove his hand from your chest, actually pushing yourself into him even more craving his touch. The voice of reason in the back of your head telling you this was risky, unprofessional and the chance of getting caught was high out here becoming softer and softer. ‘Right here?’ you ask Bobby looking up at him with puppy eyes.

‘We could, of course, go up to one of the rooms, but the motel is empty. No one will be around here anytime soon’. He smirks down at you. ‘Or is that just what you wanted? Doing this here? You’ve thought about this before haven’t you.’ He stated with a smirk. He could read you like a freaking book. You start to blush and the words to deny his statement get caught in your throat. Of course you have thought about this happening, but never in your wildest dreams did you dare to imagine it coming true.

Your silence is confirmation enough for Bobby to know he’s right. He leans down again to capture your lips with his and you return the kiss enthusiastically. You feel his hand move down from your waist to your thigh, grabbing the soft flesh there. You get the hint and jump up wrapping your thighs around him. Bobby walks both of you over to the side of the pool, your back now pressed against the impossibly cold stone wall. At the cold hitting your back you let out a moan, the burning fire in your body clashing with the contrast of temperature.

Bobby pushed you against the side of the pool tightly, harshly rutting his hard cock into your pussy. Your head falls back in a moan when you finally felt some friction where you needed him most.

‘Look at you, so desperate for me.’ He says. You move your head back forwards, kissing him deeply, all teeth and tongue. His hand moves down to more the bottom of your swimming attire to the side, his fingers brushing along your folds along the way. You break the contact between your lips so suck in a sharp breath.

‘I’ve never done this before.’ You whisper against his lips as he starts playing with your clit, exposed to the cool water now. He looks at you questioningly. ‘In a pool, I mean.’ You clarify.

‘Well, There is a first time for everything right?’ he says moving his fingers from your clit to your entrance, feeling how wet you were already for him. His fingers slid into you with ease. You were so wet he could add a third finger without much resistance. ‘So ready for me… do you want my cock?’

‘Yes’ is all you can moan out when he adds friction to your clit by pressing his palm into you.

‘You have to use your words, darling. What do you want?’ he asks again. Your eyes bore into his, both of your pupils dilated with lust.

‘I want you to fuck me, right here right now.’ Your say grinding your pussy up into him. You push just hard enough to brush against his cock and he lets out a surprised gasp at the unexpected friction.

‘You think you can take me?’ he asks, pulling down his trousers and pulling out his cock. He was now retracing the movements he did earlier with his fingers with his cock, sliding the blunt tip over your clit for a while and the moving it to your aching cunt.

‘Pleaaseee’ is all you get out.

‘Ever so eager’ Bobby laughs and moves to push himself inside you. The water of the pool splashes around you as he sets a relentless pace. He also had to hold back for a while, his thoughts about you during your internship were not all that innocent either. Now that he is finally buried inside you his mind completely fogs over, just taking whatever he needs from you in the pool.

You see his brows furrow in concentration as he pounds into you roughly, taking whatever he needs from you, and it is the hottest thing you had ever seen. You feel the heat in your belly start to spread to all parts of your body and you knew you were getting close. Bobby could feel it too, the way your cunt tightens around his cock, dragging along his shaft in the most perfect way.

‘Cum for me, baby.’ He whispers in your ear, accentuating each word with a thrust of his hips. The sound of his laboured breath in your ear in combination with his words was enough to push you over the edge. The fire now burning in your entire being, eyes closing as the feeling of your orgasm washed over you. The way it made you clench down on his cock was enough to send Bobby over his tipping point too, finishing with a few stuttering thrusts.

As you both came down from your high the cold of the water and evening air really hit. Bobby felt it when you started shuddering, still in his embrace.

‘Maybe…’ you started in a whisper, ‘we could go inside, it is still early.’

Bobby quickly redid his and your swimming attires and wasted no time carrying you out of the pool and back to his room.

[yxxxxxx1]

Thread about Joanna of Castile: Part 5: A troubled transition (1497 – 1504)

The fabulous, yet toxic legacy that became hers in 1500 would greatly complicate her life as she tried to reconcile her role as consort, wife, and mother with her new role as princess of Asturias and Gerona. She would also have to face a future proprietary monarch whose royal status surpassed her. The narratives in this thread examine the deterioration in Juana's marriage.

One of the first issues with the marriage that the monarchs also noticed was that messengers were arriving without letters from either Juana or Philip.

Isabella, anxious about her daughter, had sent her envoy, Friar Tomás de Matienzo, Sub-Prior of the Convent of Santa Cruz, to the Netherlands to find out what was happening. His detailed reports bear witness to Philip’s systematic campaign to assert his dominance over his inexperienced young wife.

Matienzo also questioned Juana about her irregular confessional habits, while later reassuring the monarchs that:

“There is as much religion in her household as in a strictly observant convent, and in this, she is very vigilant and deserves much praise.”

He also quizzed her about her failure to protect her Spanish household. Her defensiveness and extreme reserve led the Dominican to burst out that she had a “hard and pitiless heart” and was “devoid of piety [compassion].

Juana did write letters. But her silences were unsettling. In December 1496, her former aya, Teresa Manrique, who had been her daily companion and instructor, wrote from Burgos:

“I am amazed, knowing the distress and anxiety of the king and queen … when they do not receive letters from your highness with all the messages that come here … About myself, I do not know what to say except that, since I can no longer see your highness, I realize that I do not live; although I have recovered somewhat from my illnesses, the troubles of my heart … for that, the best remedy would be to have news of you …”.

Juana was also taken to task in a chaotic letter from María Manrique Chacón:

“Your highness does not remember her very dear friend doña María, and the toasted chickpeas she gave me that made me ill, the friend she loves so much …”. 

Miranda too reproved her:

“Although I have written very often, you have never sent me a word or written to me … I ask pardon that I am so bold with you, whom I love so much, and serve by day and night before God … If your highness does not answer me, I shall never write again, and this shall be my last letter.”

In general, Juana's failure to keep in touch with family and friends is seemingly more due to her extreme sensitivity to criticism and her reputation than to her indifference. She admitted that she had longed for home and had felt:

“So dispirited and depressed that every time she remembered how far away she was from [Isabel] she could not stop weeping to be forever so separated from her.”

Her treasurer, Mújica, subsequently informed the monarchs that:

“When some days go by without hearing from your highnesses, she is the most distressed woman in the world.”

To her dismay, the Philip with whom she had enjoyed such an electric physical relationship had soon shown his true colours. As her husband, and as Burgundy’s duke, he required her complete surrender to all his commands. This included controlling the personnel and the running of her household, an area in which, according to royal protocol, she should have been independent. She told Friar Tomás that Philip and his councillors didn't let her take part in it.

Philip had begun by taking over her finances: he did not give her the annual sum supposed to be allocated to her for her household expenditure, despite contracting to do just that in their joint marriage treaty. Instead, the archdukes own people took care of the money that should have gone to Juana. This meant, the envoy wrote to Isabella, that:

“She [Juana] is so poor that she has not a maravedi to give alms.”

She certainly did not have the money to pay her servants, who began to drift away because they could not “sustain themselves at court.” Within six months of her arrival in Burgundy, eighty of her ninety-eight male servants had left her side. That suited Philip very well. It meant he was able to replace the vast majority of his wife’s Spanish officials with his nominees; even many of those who loyally remained were bribed to support Philip as master rather than Juana as mistress. And, totally out of her depth, she simply did not know how to react to the man she could see was taking over her life but to whom she was still so physically attracted.

Yet, she had tried. On at least one occasion, Friar Tomás noticed that Juana had found the courage to protest. When asked to approve payments already made about which she had known nothing, she signed as she was bid but then said,

“Be it so for this year, but next year I desire that they do not make grants without my consent.”

As this flash of spirit did not occur until after Phillip's representatives had left her, Friar Tomás wrote resignedly,

“I think it will always be the same thing.”

The envoy was right: Juana didn't see any point in protesting again. Philip cruelly and deftly went a stage further after each battle he won.

Philip had insisted that Madame de Hallewin, once his own governess, should be one of Juana's key ladies-in-waiting. Juana’s desire to have Doña Marina Manuel, whom Isabella also trusted, in that post had been ignored. According to Friar Tomás:

Madame de Hallewin, together with Philip’s councillors, “Have so much intimidated” Juana, “that she dare not raise her head.”

If she tried to complain to Philip himself about how she was being treated, Juana confessed to Isabella’s messenger, her husband just told his councillors, and she “receives great injury from it.” Friar Tomás does not tell us what that “injury” was, but he does report on her sadness and her growing realization that she was so very much alone.

Juana was lucky because a few of her former attendants, including ten of her women, chose to stay with her, so she kept some links to Spain to help her feel less homesick. And homesickness was a problem for her in those early years.

“She could never think of how far she was from your Highness,” the envoy wrote to Isabella, “Without feeling the desire to cry because she was so far from your Highness for ever.”

If Juana cried, she would do so privately. Her public persona reflected her gracious nature, similar to that of Philip, who exhibited a similar demeanour.

Any friction within the marriage was well hidden. On state occasions, Juana and Philip dined publicly together, the embodiment of marital harmony. Philip made sure that Juana was well-dressed and bejewelled.

Appearances mattered, status had to be upheld. He presented Juana with diamonds and pearls that had once graced the delicate neck of his mother, Mary of Burgundy; he made sure that her horses were impressively saddled; he gave her pictures; he gave her religious items such as an image of Saint Margaret, possibly because Saint Margaret was the patron saint of women in childbirth. In the latter area, the couple certainly did their duty by the state.

Juana was torn between demanding parents and a husband whose advisers resented their interference. Philip was personally ambitious, greedy, and vehemently pro-French, none of which boded well for a future king of Spain.

During the painful years as archduchess of Burgundy in Flanders, Juana saw herself exiled and impoverished, without friends and countrymen, and without the protection and the help of her parents.

The emotional upheavals caused by the ambitions of her husband, and the unexpected reality of her inheritance after her mother’s death, brought her to personal and political confusion. This was well exploited by her husband, who started the rumour of her mental incapacity.

Juana alternated between the desire to pursue a normal life—pious and remote from the court—and the obligation to fulfil the exigencies of protocol—ostentatious and exhibitionist—that her royal rank required. Finding herself surrounded by her husband’s servants exacerbated her tendencies to hysteria and lack of control.

Sources: Fleming, G. B. (2018). Juana I: Legitimacy and Conflict in Sixteenth-Century Castile (1st ed. 2018 edition). Palgrave Macmillan.

Fox, J. (2012). Sister Queens: The Noble, Tragic Lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana, Queen of Castile. Ballantine Books.

Gómez, M. A., Juan-Navarro, S., & Zatlin, P. (2008). Juana of Castile: History and Myth of the Mad Queen. Associated University Presse.

[ailendolin]

Wounded (2/5)

Title: Wounded [AO3]

Characters: The Captain/Havers

Warnings: Spoilers for Series 5

Summary: 3 ways the Captain didn’t find out about Havers’s wound, 1 way he did, and 1 way he might have if life had been a little kinder to them both.

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

————

Wounded

Chapter 2: The Letter

The letter arrived from France in the late summer days of 1944.

While the Captain had been able to keep tabs on Havers through official action reports, allowing him to follow his journey from North Africa to Sicily, Italy and finally France, he was always anxious to hear from him in person, especially after battles and skirmishes. Operation Goodwood was no different. It had been a success as far as he knew – one if not the largest tank battle the British Army had fought in the war – but that would mean absolutely nothing if he didn’t hear from Havers soon.

Did that make him a bad soldier? Probably. But the Captain couldn’t bring himself to care. Havers’s letters had kept him sane over the years and kept him going even when his work seemed rather pointless in the grand scheme of things. Their correspondence had started with Havers’s first letter from North Africa, letting him know that he had arrived safely and was well. The Captain had written back that he was glad to hear it, and that Button House was not the same without him – least of all their cricket team. It could have ended there – should have, if the Captain was being honest with himself – but it hadn’t. They had continued writing to each other and Havers, after the Captain had admitted to worrying about him, started sending him letters after every battle he was involved in even if it wasn’t his turn to write – all just to let the Captain know he was okay.  

The Captain couldn’t even begin to put into words how much that meant to him.

The wait for Havers’s letter after Operation Goodwood was longer than usual. The more days passed, the more the Captain found himself tense and on edge, causing him to snap at his personnel for something minor he probably would have laughed at only a week before. He was sure it was quite a relief not just him but for everyone when Havers’s letter finally arrived from the front one sunny morning in late August.

The Captain had expected it to contain the usual message: the operation went according to planl, we drove the enemy back, I am unharmed and well.

What he read instead was: I am sorry to say that Jerry finally got me. It was luck on the enemy’s part, no doubt, as I saw the grenade coming but did not manage to duck quite quickly enough. The blast showered me with shrapnel, some of which caught the left side of my face, neck and side. I’m happy to report nothing vital was injured and the nurses reassure me that the scar I have now running down my face has done nothing to diminish my handsome looks. I don’t think anyone has ever called me handsome before – I certainly never thought of myself that way – and I had a good laugh about that. I told them they should meet you, sir – that they’d know what true handsomeness looks like then. But of course that would mean you would be here and wounded like me, and as much as I would like to see you again, I’d rather you’re safe and as far away from danger as currently possible.

The Captain didn’t know what shocked him more: the knowledge that Havers had been wounded so badly he would bear the scars of it for the rest of his life or the fact that his former lieutenant had just called him handsome in his letter. The post-scriptum about Havers’s promotion to the rank of major barely registered after that.

That evening when he got ready for bed, the Captain looked in the mirror and took in the lines trailing across his forehead and the crow’s feet framing his eyes, wondering what Havers could possibly find handsome about either of them. Out of the two of them, surely Havers was the one who had been blessed with good looks. Those warm brown eyes, that kind smile that never failed to make his face light up, those strong arms …

He thought of the scar Havers had so briefly described in his letter and found it impossible to imagine that an injury – any sort of injury – could make him look anything less than handsome. He would tell him so in his letter tomorrow.

Perhaps Havers would trust the word of his former captain more than that of nurses.

[stelar-time]

BRAIN WORMS ASKED FOR WEIRD RAMBLES, I SHALL GIVE !

I wasn't reallt feeling that Stanley parable spirit as of late you know how it goes, BUT, I did found out how to fully restart the game so I did just that, and in my silly little runs in the original endings I went to to the scape pode one, no bucket tho, whoever I do wonder, what the fuck is this??

Honestly at first I thought it was maybe some sort of evil scheme as if to make the workers lose their sense of time given that techincally it could still be Stanleys original office, but then you go up the staris and BOOM next thing Stanley's office again, it can just BE his office again ykwim? I was just thinking WHY exactly they needed a replica of this exact office, in my guess it is definitely something that has to do with TK given they have a literal wormhole during the confusion ending which leads to hundreds if not thousands of reports on its behaviors during the experiments.

BUT, that wasn't even my main reason as to why I wanted to post this, but I decided to just post these two together bc to hell with it why not?

I think a LOT about Narrator's existence origin and how aware their are of what's actually around him, I do like to think he does haves his flaws that he cannot just, be aware of everything around the office and building, and that sign, this damn sign.

Well i guess if youve been here long enough you know what it says if not: scape pod, must have Narrator and player to work properly.

I LOVE this sign, it peaks my interest and makes me question, is this one of the things Narrator created? Why? The only way to acess is by LITERALLY locking Narrator away, and it obvioulsy doesnt work, it would never work we NEED it there with us why would he do this? or is this one of the things he is just not aware of?? I love the theory of narrator also being previously a worker (employee 003 to be especific! ive talked about this before) in the same building as Stanley,of them being and/or going trough things similar as TK, it would be a very funny coincidence, workers in that building, no longer have a body, entities within the game hidden away in corners of the office you dont see often, The Narrator, makes me think of another narrator, Curator also exists, maybe i am just saying that there might be other narrators or Im just really into the subject of the experiments the workers of that building have gone trough and how I think its interesnting that narrator just so happened to be one, this doesnt need to make exact sense and what i am stating couldn't be more far away from the facts ! But I have more fun than you could imagine while writing this