#is actually a really common practice for people living in poverty so probably something that Katniss and peeta would’ve been familiar wirh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

formereldestdaughter · 1 month

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ok wait i need to hear more of your thoughts on peeta owning a bakery....

This is one of those rare times where I’m pretty sure this anon isn’t someone I know personally bc I’ve subjected anyone who will listen to my rant about the Peeta Bakery Headcanon. Anyway, you’re gonna regret asking this anon bc there are fucking Layers here.

I know this is probably a controversial take based on the number of fics where I’ve seen it, but I simply do not think that Peeta would open a commercial bakery after Mockingjay!! Like on a metatextual level, I don’t think it really fits with the point of the ending of the series. It actually sort of fascinates me that it’s just such a common headcanon because the ending of Mockingjay is exceedingly vague. I think that vagueness invites us, as readers, to imagine a better world post-revolution. A world where Katniss would feel confident that her children would be safe from injustice, where she’d feel confident that her children would never know want the way she did as a child. A just world. A kinder world. Can a capitalist society ever be just? Is a capitalist society where a disabled teenager has no other means to subsist himself (or feels like there’s no other way he can be a contributing member of his community) really the post-revolution world we dream of? Is that really the best we can imagine?

(This got so insanely long I’m adding a read more lmao)

I get that showing a better world is not always the point of post-mockingjay headcanons/fics. Like there are plenty of really great post-mockingjay fics I’ve seen where, yeah, part of the fic is that society like ISN’T all that different or all that much better. I’ve seen that really well done! Hell, I’ve written them myself! It’s easy to imagine how a lot of aspects of society would not get an overhaul, a lot of the same structural inequalities would continue to exist. One headcanon that really stuck with me (I can’t remember which fic it was from) was that Peeta sells basically mail order baked goods to people on the Capitol, sending them iced cakes and pastries by train, because there are still people who were “fans” of theirs during the Games. And idk this doesn’t actually have much to do with my point lol but I liked it because it’s kind of fucked up and like! Yeah! It makes sense! If he needed money that would be a good way to make it! War often makes people rich, often for horrible reasons, and often it’s people who already have capital in the first place.

Anyway, more about the hypothetical bakery because alright. I bring up the fact that “yeah society not being all that different post-revolution and still being an unjust capitalist hellscape” could be a reason why Peeta re-opens a bakery because that’s actually never the types of fics where I see the bakery headcanon. Fics where Peeta opens a bakery are usually trying to make the exact opposite point. Like. Things are getting better, now he can open a bakery! Look at how much better the world is now, plus he’s got a bakery! Peeta is healing, that’s why he can open a bakery now! And I am so, so sorry to inform everyone who’s never had the grave misfortune of owning a family business, but there is truly nothing further from the truth lmao. Like just putting aside the immense amount of emotional baggage that Peeta has about his family, running a small business is an insane amount of work in any context and being a baker especially is physically grueling and involves early hours (and long hours) that aren’t really the best fit with the multiple ways that Peeta is disabled now. (I could go into this more because I have a lot of thoughts. But I will spare you.). I also think it’s seen throughout the books that Peeta is someone who needs time to pursue creative outlets to process his feelings and someone who values leisure and values quality time with his loved ones. And having grown up in his family’s bakery, I think he’d understand the reality that running a bakery wouldn’t leave much space of those pursuits and wouldn’t leave much space for him to have the things that keep him healthy and stable. I think he’d know that the way he is now— after two Games and the war and unspeakable torture at the hands of a dictator—isn’t compatible with the lifestyle necessary for running a commercial bakery.

And tbh with that in mind, I don’t think he’d push himself to re-open a business (one that would be a constant reminder of his dead family and his complicated relationships with them that got no closure) that would require him to sacrifice his physical and emotional well-being. Like I think he might look into the possibility, I think he might even start trying to open a bakery out of a sense of obligation/duty, maybe harboring some idea that this is who he was supposed to be, who he would've been without the Games, or that it’s this last piece of his family that can live on, or that it’s this last connection to his family so he can’t let it die too. But ultimately, I think any attempt to open a bakery wouldn’t get very far. Maybe he'd start wading into the logistical nightmare that is small business ownership and realize it's not for him (because it's probably also true that as much as him and his brothers were involved in the business, there's almost certainly parts they weren't involved with and didn't see, i.e., filing taxes). Or maybe looking into opening a bakery— how triggering it is, the stress of it— causes a downward spiral. Maybe he hates how much he's worrying everyone by unraveling. Maybe having a breakdown from the stress of just trying to open a bakery makes him realize, yeah, maybe in another life he would have ran his family’s bakery but the way he is now just doesn’t work with running a bakery, not without great sacrifices he's not willing to make. I just can’t see a bakery coming to fruition.

I know a lot of fics include Peeta deciding to reopen a bakery as a big step in his healing or include him rebuilding a bakery as part of his healing process but honestly, I think the opposite would be more true: I think Peeta either trying/failing to open a bakery or ultimately deciding not to open a bakery would be hugely healing for him. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way he is now as a person, his new limitations but also his strengths. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way his life his now and accepting that he likes his life the way it is, that he’s satisfied with his life without needing to own a bakery. I think it would be an important part of him coming to terms with the loss of his family. I think he knows he can never have things back as they were and I don’t think he would try to recreate them, especially because his family’s legacy isn’t a business. I think he’s emotionally intelligent enough and self reflective enough to realize that what mattered to him about the bakery— taking care of others by feeding them, being integrated into his community and being actively involved in it, brightening people’s days with delightful things whether that’s beautiful cakes or hearty food or delicious treats— and the things he learned from his family through the bakery, are things that he can carry on in other meaningful ways.

(Do you regret sending this ask yet, anon? Because if not, you will soon. I’m not done yet. There’s more.)

I wasn’t really sure where to put this next part in what is rapidly becoming an essay because it sort of combines the points about like “what do we imagine a post-mockingjay society to look like” with the practical difficulties of starting this bakery but here’s another thing: do people really think that the Mellarks owned the land the bakery was on?? Like, sure, the merchants are the petit bourgeois of Twelve but I still don’t imagine they really own anything. In a society where houses are assigned to people upon marriage, where property ownership and capital are so closely interconnected with citizenship (as shown by the Plinths who, by having immense capital, are able to leave their District and become citizens of the Capitol) do people really think the Mellarks would be allowed to own the land their bakery is on?? I always imagined it sort of like a tenant farming situation: the Capitol gives them the raw materials for the bakery and in return the bakery give them some absurdly high portion of their profits, or the Capitol sells them a year’s supply of raw materials at a premium on credit and at the end of the year the Mellarks have to use the money they made with those materials to pay it back, except it’s never enough to turn a profit so they always have to buy next year’s materials on credit and the cycle continues.

We (understandably) get a really skewed view of the merchant class through Katniss’s perspective so I can see why people come to the conclusion that his family owned the property and, as the last surviving member, he would’ve inherited it. I’ve seen the inheritance thing in fics a lot or a hand wavey “well Twelve was decimated to no one owns anything anymore so it can be his” or even like an almost sort of reparations type situation where he’s entitled to the land as a surviving refugee of Twelve. But I don’t know. I guess I don’t think it fits with everything else we know about Panem that the Mellarks would’ve owned that land and I think the question of whether the government would’ve let him take ownership of the land post-revolution brings up a lot of issues about the structure of society post-Mockingjay that I find more interesting to explore in other ways, especially when, from an emotional perspective, 1) I find the idea of Peeta not opening a bakery more compelling and 2) I don’t think it really fits his character arc by the end of Mockingjay to reopen a bakery, as I went on about at length above lol.

On the flip side: literally who cares!! Do whatever you want!! Headcanon whatever you want!! I get why people go for the bakery!! It’s fun, it’s wholesome, it’s a built in bakery AU that isn’t even an AU. It doesn’t matter if it’s practical or realistic!! It doesn’t need to be practical or realistic!! It’s fanfic of a dystopian YA series!! My unfortunate affliction is that I grew up in a family that owned a restaurant and that I have multiple degrees in the social sciences so I can’t see the bakery without being like “What about the overheard? What about the start up costs? Who’s spending long nights balancing the books? Is Peeta covering shifts when an employee calls in sick? Is Peeta the sole person working there until the bakery is open long enough (often a year or more) to start turning a profit? How does that sleep schedule work with his nightmares? How does that work with Katniss’s nightmares? What happens when he has an episode and suddenly needs to take the day off before he has any employees? Does the bakery just remain closed for the day? Can the profit margins withstand regular unexpected closures? Can the supplies withstand regular unexpected closures?” And if the answer is “Elliott none of those things matter he’s not doing the bakery because he needs the money but because he wants to”, then my question is why does he want to? Does he not get the same sort of satisfaction out of feeding his loved ones? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would rather give away baked goods than sell them?? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would prefer to make cakes for people’s special occasions upon and then when they insist on paying him for it, he only lets them “pay for the ingredients” which actually cost significantly more than he says they did??

So yeah my point is that it’s a matter of personal taste! It doesn’t fit the way I see the series but that doesn’t mean it’s like wrong, I’m not an authority on Peeta lmao.

It’s also a matter of personal taste in the sense that I find the themes that most resonate with me at the end of Mockingjay (and the end of Peeta’s arc specifically) more interesting to explore in other ways. Grief, living with loss, relearning yourself, finding hope, figuring out your place in a dramatically different world when you don’t even know who you are anymore, healing, building a new life after such complete and total destruction of your old life— those are all things I find compelling about the end of Mockingjay but for me the bakery isn’t the most compelling way to explore them.

Not to say I find the concept of the bakery totally uninteresting. I have this fic about Johanna that I’ll probably never finish where the point sort of is that, yeah, her life really isn’t all that much better after the war. It’s been years at this point and she’s still miserable and she doesn’t know how to be a person but by the end she’s trying to figure it out. And towards the end, Peeta tells her that he’s spent years sort of passively, half-heartedly trying to figure out how to inherit the land his family’s bakery was on, only to find out it was never theirs in the first place. They’d been renting it the whole time and he’d never even known as a kid. So he sort of passively, half-heartedly went on another wild goose chase to find the owner and now, finally, after years of writing to various government agencies and being sent in circles and things being barely functional, he’s managed to track down the owner. Now it’s owned by the daughter of the man who owned it when he was a kid because the original owner (who was likely up to some sketchy war crime shit) died during the war and she inherited it (the irony…). He got in contact with her and asked how much it would take for her to sell it and she told him she’s not interested in selling but in light of the situation, in light of the fact that he’d have to build a new building in order to operate a bakery, that she’d cut him a deal— she’d only require 50% of the bakery’s profits as rent instead of the 80% his family used to pay. And of course Johanna is outraged, that’s not right, the owner shouldn’t be allowed to do that, they should do something about it, they should fight back. And Peeta is like. Not interested. He was actually sort of relieved that opening wasn’t very feasible. Getting the answer was a lightbulb moment where he saw that over the years of trying to look into this, he’s built a life that he likes— one where he’s stable, where his loved ones are stable, where he’s cared for and can care for others— and he doesn’t really want to change it drastically by opening a bakery anyway. He just needed an answer, one way or another, before he could get some closure and move on. (And the point of the conversation is Johanna is having her own lightbulb moment that it’s okay to move on, it’s okay to change, it’s not a betrayal of the people and things she’s lost but that’s not my point here!!).

But anyway. That’s obviously not about running the bakery— it’s about the choice to not run one.

Anyway!! Anyway… are you satisfied anon? Is this what you wanted?

Lastly, here is my most important qualm with the bakery headcanon: must Peeta be gainfully employed? Is it not enough for him to be Katniss’s boytoy? Can’t he just paint and garden and bake and hang out with his girlfriend all day? Is that really too much to ask?

#peeta mellark #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games meta #anyway wow this got so long and I literally read it through one (1) time so uhhh sorry if this makes no sense!!#as I was doing my one read through and realized that one of my other thoughts on this is that yeah I can much more easily see the #headcanon that peeta like sells baked goods (probably at cost with no profit) out of his kitchen because that’s much more flexible #and I think that would work a lot better with what like I guess I’d call his psychiatric disability post mockingjay #and how he’d certainly want to take care of Katniss too #like that sort of flexibility makes a lot more sense for him and it’s like. if he doesn’t bake for a few days or however long then it’s fin #it’s not a formal brick and mortar business #it’s just something he’s doing because it’s a way to be involved with people and a way to do something he’s passionate about #without there being waste and while covering some of the costs #and he doesn’t have to like keep books or do payroll or any of the things I can’t see him being very passionate about #as far as like bakery management goes Lmao he can just bake!!#but then I started getting into this whole thing about how that quote-unquote ‘running a business’ like that (informally from your house)#is actually a really common practice for people living in poverty so probably something that Katniss and peeta would’ve been familiar wirh #anyway and then this whole rant about how the emphasis on the brick and mortar bakery often goes hand in hand with #this widespread fandom thing of having a fundamental misunderstanding of how rural poverty works and what it looks like #but then I was too deep into it and said you know what? never mind! and deleted it lmao

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transmasc-wizard · 2 years

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i remember you saying that you did a lot of research for gfs, and lately i've been thinking of writing a more historical story so i was wondering if you had any tips for thoroughly researching a specific time period? literally anything will help, i'm horrible at research lol

i have a normal and logical level of love for research. I am not absolutely gleeful over this question to an amount far higher than normal. i am NOT--

yeah no i love this question

SO. I am going to answer the question that writers everywhere cry themselves to sleep over (probably) (maybe)

How The Fuck Do I Research Stuff For My Story? (Specific Time Period Edition)

1: know it's not just one thing.

you're not just "researching". That's a big, big umbrella that holds a LOT of things inside of it. You're researching clothing, politics, economic state, government, food, weapons, societal values at the time, and significant going-ons, among other things. It's better to break that into pieces than to try and tackle "research" as a whole.

Also: HAVE A RESEARCH DOCUMENT. Seriously. Write down anything that could be relevant. Also, have a table of contents or something similar and keep it organized. It helps, trust me.

2: Now, here's your pieces. Go in order.

1) ERA IN GENERAL.

So, you've told me (thanks to my frantic asks to you) that your story in particular is around the 1880s-1900s and takes place in the USA, Britain, France, and Japan. That means your story will exist in the gilded age (rich people! but also poverty), the very end of the Victorian era (she lived so fuckin long bro), the formative years (wooo France is full of communists) and the Meiji period (Japan gets to be powerful!).

No but really you picked a bunch of very.... interesting eras to collide all at once in your story skdjfskjfhk

In general, when it comes to researching the era, you want to look at the big picture of what was going on. You can first search "what era was [time period] for [country]", and then once you have the name of it, go wild: e.g. with the gilded age, you can go "advancements in the gilded age" "politics in the gilded age" "social issues in the gilded age" "the gilded age", and so on and so forth. Put the era's name in your search and you'll find results a lot quicker.

Era will include the economic state, political state, significant historical events before/after (aka events that have influenced your age or that are being influenced by your age), what the era is generally known for, advancements at the time, and relationships with the other countries your story is focusing on.

2) EVERYDAY THINGS AND/OR VERY IMPORTANT THINGS.

Food, fashion, common jobs, family structure, architecture & buildings, societal views, and other things that are addressed almost every day in some way. This is where you want to take the societal positions of your characters into your mind; a poor Jewish immigrant man and a high-class young white woman are going to have very different lives, even if they both live in NYC in the USA's Gilded Age. They'll eat different food, wear different clothes, be expected to have different skills, have different cultural beliefs/practices, have different jobs, and likely have very different political views.

So, when looking things up, think whether or not your characters would actually have that in their lives. There are people in ballgowns and people in rags, and you've got to figure out which one your character will be wearing.

Don't just research something like "1890s clothing". You want to find what is worn in that age by the types of people your characters are. So, "what did people wear in the victorian era" is a bad thing to google and expect precise results. "what did poor men wear in the victorian era" is a lot better.

Now's the time to do your research for some really big things, too. Say you have a scene that happens in a mansion in America, and it's a SUPER IMPORTANT SCENE. You're going to want to look up what American mansions in the Gilded Age often were like beforehand, even if none of your characters live in one or will have seen one beforehand.

3) MUCH MORE SPECIFIC THINGS.

Ok, so you know what a rich woman in the Meiji period would wear every day. Cool. But do you know what she should be wearing in that one scene with the super fancy event? Do you know what music would be playing? Do you know what weapon she could best have in that event?

It's ok if the answer is "no", even after your general research. Specific research is best saved for when you have to know it. Getting bogged down in research is a real thing, and it's very, very frustrating. So, either look those details up when you outline the scene (if you outline it) or when you actually need to write it. Like, say your characters end up in Paris in 1888 for a scene or two. Well, that's when the Eiffel Tower was built! You knew that already, because you looked up 1880s-1900s France and know quite a bit about it!

... what you don't know yet is what the construction site of the Eiffel Tower looked like. And that's fine--it's until it's time to actually focus on that scene.

3: Make Sure Your Sources Are Legit.

This can be hard, but in my experience, good sources will 1) list their sources and not try to hide them or just not have any, and 2) their information will agree with the info in other good sources. Basically, if 4 sources say XYZ and 1 says ABC, you can probably believe that ABC is wrong.

(Reading published books can help with this, though they're not always true, either. Basically: compare, compare, compare.)

4: Know This Takes Time.

It's ok to look at this and go "haha.... maybe I won't write anything historical". It's daunting! It can be a lot!

But it's all just pieces.

You read a couple articles and watch a video about clothing worn by Japanese peasants. You borrow a book that talks about food in the Gilded Age. You get lost down the rabbit hole of Victorian high-society politics. You write it all down in that trusty research doc.

And suddenly, you KNOW THINGS. You know things!! And videos that hinted at X but didn't quite talk about it lead you to researching X, which hints and Y and leads you to research Y, and so on and so forth.

It takes a long time, definitely. You'll be researching before you write, while you outline, and when you're writing. You'll research when you're editing and rewriting, too. But even if you don't particularly like it, you can find comfort in the fact that it just involves searching the right phrases and sitting down to watch some videos or read a library book. And in the end, you'll have a well-researched story--and that info doesn't go away! If you ever have to know something about the Victorian age, you'll be able to look back at what you learned awhile back. (Especially because you have your research doc, right?)

5: TLDR.

know research isn't just one clump, it's a lot of different things you look at

research the era, then general things, then things you need to know in specific situations only

use specific phrases, not just general things; "what jobs did men have in France in the 1880s" is lots better than "French jobs"

make sure your sources aren't just people lying on the internet for fun. comparing what your sources say and using a lot of them can help with this!

know it takes time, but don't stress. You don't have to get it done all at once.

have your motherfucking research doc. are you listening to me. WRITE DOWN THE INFORMATION THAT YOU FINDDDDDD

OK. This was a SUPER long post, but!! I really hope it's helpful!! If you have more questions, feel free to ask away :D

#researching #writblr #writeblr #nico yells writing advice into the void #long post #asks #luce!#i am. so sorry #i cant shut up </3

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pumpkinpaix · 3 years

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Pleeeeeeease get into the class one at some point because I very much want to understand the class dynamics happening in the story but I have yet to find a meta that dives into it

god anon you want me dead don’t you alsjdfljks

referring to this post

okay, so -- my specific salt about class interpretations in mdzs are very targeted. I can’t pretend to have a deep understanding of how class works in mdzs generally because uhhhhh yeah i don’t think i have that. i’m just not familiar enough with the genre and/or the particulars of chinese class systems. but! i can talk in general terms as to why I feel a certain way about the class dynamics that I do think I understand and how I think they relate to the themes of the novel! i’m gonna talk about wei wuxian, the daozhangs, xue yang, and 3zun with, I’m sure, a bunch of digressions along the way.

the usual disclaimers: i do not think you are a bad person if you hold opinions contrary to my own. i may disagree with you very strongly, but like. this isn’t a moral judgment, fandom is transformative and interpretive etc. etc. and i may change my mind. who knows what the future will bring!

OKAY so let’s begin!

here’s the thing about wei wuxian: he’s not poor. I think because characters use “son of a servant” kind of often when they’re trying to insult him, a lot of people latch onto that and think that it’s a much stronger indication of his societal status than it actually is. iirc, most of the insults that fall along the “son of a servant” line come after wei wuxian starts breaking severely from tradition. it’s a convenient thing to attack him for, but doesn’t actually indicate anything about his wealth. (exception: yu ziyuan, but that’s a personal familial issue) this is in direct contrast to jin guangyao who is constantly mocked for his family line, publicly and privately, no matter what he does.

so this, coupled with all the jokes about wwx never having any money (wei wuqian, sizhui’s “i’ve long since known you had no money” etc.), plus his like, rough years on the street as a child ends up producing this interpretation of wei wuxian, especially in modern aus, as someone who is very class conscious and “eat the rich”. but the fact of the matter is, wei wuxian IS rich. aside from the years in his childhood and the last two years of his life in yiling, like -- wei wuxian had money and status. he is gentry. he is respected as gentry. he is treated as a son by the sect leader of yunmeng jiang -- he does not have the jiang name, but it is so very clear that jiang fengmian favors him. wei wuxian is ranked fourth of all the eligible young masters in the cultivation world -- that is not a ranking he could have attained without being accepted into the upper class.

wei wuxian’s poverty does not affect him in the way that it affects jin guangyao or xue yang. he is of low-ish birth (still the son of jiang fengmian’s right hand man though! ok sure, “son of a servant” but like. >_> whatever anyways), but for most of his life he had money. he, jiang cheng, and their sect brothers go into town and steal lotus pods with the understanding that “jiang-shushu will pay for it”. this is a regular thing! that’s fucking rich kid behavior!!! wei wuxian is careless with money because he doesn’t have to worry about it. he still has almost all the benefits of being upper class: education, food security, respect, recognition etc. I think there may also be a misconception that wei wuxian was always on the verge of being kicked out by yu ziyuan, or that he was constantly walking on eggshells around her for fear of being disowned, but that is just textually untrue. i could provide receipts, but I admittedly don’t really feel like digging them up just now ;;

even in his last years in yiling, he was not the one who was dealing with the acute knowledge of poverty: wen qing is the one managing the money, and as far as we know, wei wuxian did little to no management of daily life during the burial mounds days -- mostly, he’s described as hiding in his cave for days on end, working on his inventions, running around like a force of chaos, frivolously making a mess of things -- it’s very very cute that he buries a’yuan in the dirt, but in classic wei wuxian fashion, he did Not think about the practical consequences of it -- that A’Yuan has no other clean clothes, and now he’s gotten this set dirty and has no intention of washing them. is this a personality thing? yeah, but I think it’s also indicative of his lack of concern over the logistics of everyday survival, re: wealth.

furthermore, i think it is important to remember that wei wuxian, when he is protecting the wen remnants, is not protecting common folk: he is still protecting gentry. fallen gentry, yes! but gentry nonetheless. wen qing was favored by wen ruohan, and wen ning himself says that he has a retinue of people under his command (the remnants, essentially). their branch of the family do not have the experience of living and growing in poverty -- they are impoverished and persecuted in their last years, but that’s a very different thing from being impoverished your whole life. (sidenote: I do not believe wei wuxian’s primary motivation for defending the wen remnants was justice -- i believe he did it because he felt he owed wen ning and wen qing a life debt, and once he was there, he wasn’t going to stand around and let the work camps go on. yes, he is concerned about justice and doing the right thing, but that’s not why he went in the first place. anyways, that’s another meta)

after wei wuxian returns, he then marries back into gentry, and very wealthy gentry at that. lwj provides him all the money he could ever want, he is never worried about going homeless, starving, being denied opportunities based on his class and accompanying disadvantages. who would dare? and neither wei wuxian nor lan wangji seem to have much interest in shaking up the order of things, except in little things like the way they teach the juniors. they live in gusu, under the auspices of the lan, and they live a happy, domestic life.

were his years on the street traumatizing? yes, of course they were, there’s so much delicious character exploration to be done re: wei wuxian’s relationship to food, his relationship to his own needs, and his relationship to the people he loves. it’s all important and good! but I feel very strongly that that experience, while it was formative for him, did not impart any true understanding of poverty and the common person’s everyday struggles, nor do I think he ever really gains that understanding. he is observant and canny and aware of class and blood, certainly, but not in a way that makes it his primary hill to die on (badum-tss).

this is in very stark contrast to characters like jin guangyao and xue yang, and to some extent, xiao xingchen and song lan. I’ll start with the daozhangs, because I think they’re the simplest (??).

I think both xiao xingchen and song lan have class consciousness, but in a very simplified, broad-strokes kind of way (at least, given the information we know about them). we know that the two of them share similar values and want to one day form their own sect that gives no weight to the nobility of your lineage and has no concern with your wealth. we also know that they both disdain intersect politics and are more concerned with ideals and principles rather than status. but, I think because of that, this actually somewhat limits their perception and understanding of how status is used to oppress. as far as we know, neither of them participated on any side in sunshot and they demonstrate much more interest in relating to the commoners. honestly, i hc that they were flitting around trying to help decimated towns, protecting defenseless villages etc. I ALSO think this has a lot of interesting potential in terms of xiao xingchen and wei wuxian’s relationship, if xiao xingchen is ever revived. regardless of whether you’re in CQL or novel verse, xiao xingchen really doesn’t know wei wuxian at all, other than knowing that he’s his shijie’s son. he knows that cangse-sanren met with a tragic end, like yanling-daoren before her, and that he wants to be different. but here is cangse-sanren’s son, laying waste to entire cities, desecrating the dead. I would very much like to get into xiao xingchen’s head during that period of time (and i think, if i do it right, i can write some of it into the songxiao fixit), but that’s neither here nor there, because i’ve wandered off from my point again.

i would posit that song lan is used to an ascetic lifestyle, and xiao xingchen probably is too -- but that’s different from poverty because there’s an element of choice to it. I also think that neither of them is particularly worldly, xiao xingchen especially. he lived on an isolated mountain until he was like, seventeen, and he came down full of ideals and naivete about how the world worked. I think that both of them see inequality, that they are angered by it, and that they want to do something about it -- but their solution is neither to topple the sects, nor is it to reform the system. rather, it seems to be more about withdrawing and creating their own removed world. I think that the daozhangs embody a kind of utopianism that isn’t present in the minds of any of the other characters, not even wangxian. honestly, baoshan-sanren’s mountain is a utopian ideal, but one that is not described. it exists outside of and beyond the world. i have a lot of jumbled, vague thoughts about utopianism generally, mostly informed by china miéville and ursula k. le guin, and I don’t think i have the ability to articulate them here, but i wanted to. hm. say something? there is something about the inherent dystopianism contained within every utopia, that utopias are necessary, but also reflections of the existence of terrible things in their conception. idk. there’s something in there, I know it!! but i suppose what I want to say is -- i do not think the daozhangs understand class and social hierarchy very deeply because they don’t see a need to examine it deeply. for their goals, the details aren’t the point. they’re not looking to reform within the system, they’re looking to build something outside of it. I think they spend a lot of time concerned with alleviating the symptoms of social oppression, and their values reflect the injustices they witness there.

regardless, even if their story ends in tragedy and there is a certain amount of critique re: the utopian approach, i think the text still emphasizes that xiao xingchen left a utopia and that he thought that people mattered enough for him to try, and that was an incredibly honorable, kind, and human thing to do.

YEAH SURE THE DAOZHANGS ARE THE SIMPLEST ok ok RETURNING to class and moving forward: xue yang.

i also don’t think xue yang has class consciousness lol, or not in any way that really matters, but I do think poverty impacted him in a much stronger way than it impacted wei wuxian. wei wuxian spent some years on the street as a child. xue yang grew up on the streets. chang ci’an’s horrific treatment of him was directly due to his class and social standing: chang ci’an is a nobleman and xue yang is not even worth the dirt beneath the wheels of his cart. what I think is the seminal point though, is that this does not make xue yang think particularly deeply about systemic injustice, because xue yang is so self-centered, self-driven, and individualistic. he is not even slightly concerned about how poverty and class might affect other people -- they’re other people. what he takes away from his experience is not an anger at being wrongfully cheated by a system, but an anger at being wrongfully cheated by a specific man.

xue yang is not particularly concerned with the politics of the aristocracy -- he has no obvious ambitions other than, “i want to eat sweets whenever i please”, “i want to hurt anyone who wrongs me”, and “i want to be so strong that no one can hurt me”. like, he just doesn’t care -- it’s not the kind of power he wants. he sneers at people for like, personal reasons, not class reasons -- “you think you’re better than me” re: xiao xingchen and song lan. to him, all people -- poor, wealthy, noble, common -- are essentially equal, and they are all beneath him. after all, what does he care what family someone comes from, how much money they have? everyone bleeds when you cut them. some of them might be harder to get to than others, but xue yang does not fear that sort of thing. it’s just another obstacle he needs to vault on his way to getting revenge and/or a pastry.

ANYWAYS onto jin guangyao (wow this is hm. getting rather long ahaha oh dear): I would argue that the two characters with the most acute understanding of class/societal politics and the injustice of them are jin guangyao and lan xichen. i’ll start with jin guangyao for obvious reasons.

where xue yang took the damaging effects of poverty as personal slights, I think jin guangyao is painfully aware that there is nothing personal about them, which is, in some ways, much worse. why are two sons, born on the same day to the same father, treated so differently? just because.

he watched his mother struggle and starve and work herself to the bone in a profession where she was constantly disrespected and abused for almost nothing in return, while his father could have lifted her out of poverty with the wave of a finger. why didn’t he? because he didn’t like her? no -- because he didn’t care, and the structures of the society they live in protect that kind of blase treatment of the lower class.

“so my mother couldn’t choose her own fate, is that her fault?” jin guangyao demands. he knows that he is unbelievably talented, that he has ambition, that he has potential, and that all of it is beyond his grasp just because his father didn’t want to bother with it. his mother’s life was destroyed, and his own opportunities were crippled with that negligence. it isn’t personal. that’s just the way things are. your individual identity is meaningless, your humanity does not exist. when he’s kicked down the steps of jinlin tai, it’s just more confirmation that no matter how talented or hardworking he is, no one will give him the time of day unless he finds a way to take it himself and become someone who “matters”.

jin guangyao’s cultivation is weak because he had a poor foundation, and he had a poor foundation because he was denied access to a good one. he copies others because that’s all he can do at this point, and he copies so well that he can hold his own against some of the strongest cultivators of his generation. he’s disparaged for copying and “stealing” techniques, but -- he never would have had to if only he had been born/accepted into the upper class. the fact is that i really do think jin guangyao was the most promising cultivator of his generation that we meet, including the twin jades and wei wuxian: he had natural talent, ambition, creativity, determination and cunning in spades. in some ways, I think that’s one of the overlooked tragedies of jin guangyao: the loss of not just the good man he could have been, but the powerful one too. imagine what he could have done.

jin guangyao spends his entire time in the world of the aristocracy feeling unsteady and terrified because he knows exactly how precarious his position is. he knows how easy it is to lose power, especially for someone like him. he’s working against so many disadvantages, and every scrap of honor he gets is a vicious battle. jin guangyao fears, and I think that’s something that’s lacking in xue yang, wei wuxian and the daozhangs’ experiences/understandings of poverty. i think it’s precisely that fear that emphasizes jin guangyao’s understanding of class and blood. jin guangyao exhibits an anxiety that neither wei wuxian nor xue yang do, and it’s because he truly knows how little he is worth in the eyes of society and how little there is he can do to change that. to me, it very much feels related to the anxiety of not knowing if tomorrow you’ll have something to eat, if tomorrow you’ll still have a home, if tomorrow someone will destroy you and never have to answer for it. it’s the anxiety of knowing helplessness intimately.

moreover, jin guangyao is the only person shown to use the wealth and power at his disposal to take concrete steps to actually help the common people typically ignored by the powerful -- the watchtowers. they’re described in chapter 42. it’s a system that is designed to cover remote areas that most cultivators are reluctant to go due to their inconvenience and the lack of means of the people who live there. the watchtowers assign cultivators to different posts, give aid to those previously forgotten, and if the people are too poor to pay what the cultivators demand, the lanling jin sect pays for it. jin guangyao worked on this for five years and burned a lot of bridges over it. people were strongly opposed to it, thinking that it was some kind of ploy for lanling jin’s personal benefit. but the thing is -- it worked. they were effective. people were helped.

i believe CQL frames the watchtowers as an allegory for a surveillance state/centralized control (i think?? it’s been a minute -- that’s the hazy impression i remember, something like a parallel to the wen supervisory offices?), but I personally don’t think that was the intent in the novel. the watchtowers are a public good. lanling jin doesn’t staff them with their own sect members -- they get nearby sects to staff them. it’s a warning network that they fund that’s supposed to benefit everyone, even those that everyone had considered expendable.

(did jin guangyao do terrible things to achieve this goal? yeah lol. it’s not confirmed, but his son sure did die... suspiciously...... at the hands of an outspoken critic of the watchtowers........ whom he then executed....... so like, maybe just a convenient coincidence for jin guangyao, two birds one stone, but. it seems. Unlikely.)

lan xichen is the only member of the gentry that ever shows serious compassion for and nuanced understanding of jin guangyao’s circumstances. lan xichen treats him as his equal regardless of jin guangyao’s current status -- even when he was meng yao, lan xichen treated him as a human being worthy of respect, as someone with great merits, as someone he would choose as a friend, but he did so knowing full well the delicate position meng yao occupied. this is in direct contrast to nie mingjue, who also believed that meng yao was worthy of respect as a human being, but was completely unable to comprehend the complexities of his circumstances and unwilling to grant him any grace. you know, the difference between “i acknowledge that your birth and status have had effects upon you, but I don’t think less of you for it” and “i don’t consider your birth and status at all when i interact with you because i think it is irrelevant” (“i don’t see color” anyone?)

to illustrate, from chapter 48:

大抵是觉得娼妓之子身上说不定也带着什么不干净的东西，这几名修士接过他双手奉上来的茶盏后，并不饮下，而是放到一边，还取出雪白的手巾，很难受似的，有意无意反复擦拭刚才碰过茶盏的手指。聂明玦并非细致之人，未曾注意到这种细节，魏无羡却用眼角余光扫到了这些。孟瑶视若未见，笑容不坠半分，继续奉茶。蓝曦臣接过茶盏之时，抬眸看他一眼，微笑道：“多谢。”

旋即低头饮了一口，这才继续与聂明玦交谈。旁的修士见了，有些不自在起来。

rough tl:

Probably because they believed that the son of a prostitute might also carry some unclean things upon his person, after these few cultivators took the teacups offered from [Meng Yao’s] two hands, they did not drink, but instead put them to one side, and furthermore brought out snow white handkerchiefs. Quite uncomfortably, and whether they were aware of it or not, they repeatedly wiped the fingers they had just used to touch the teacups. Nie Mingjue was not a detail-oriented person and never took note of such particulars, but Wei Wuxian caught these in the corner of his eye. Meng Yao appeared as if he had not seen, his smile unwavering in the slightest, and continued to serve tea. When Lan Xichen took the teacup, he glanced up at him and, smiling, said, “Thank you.”

He immediately dipped his head to take a sip, and only then continued to converse with Nie Mingjue. Seeing this, the nearby cultivators began to feel somewhat uneasy.

all right, since we’re in full cyan-rampaging-through-the-weeds mode at this point, i’m going to talk about how this is one of my favorite 3zun moments in the entire novel for characterization purposes because it really highlights how they all relate to one another, and to what degree each of them is aware of their own position in relation to the others and society as a whole.

1. nie mingjue, who is a forthright and blunt person, sets meng yao to serving tea and is done with it. he notices nothing wrong or inappropriate about the reactions of the people in the room because it’s not the sort of thing he considers important.

2. meng yao, knowing that his only avenue is to take it lying down with a smile, masks perfectly.

3. lan xichen, noticing all this, uses his own reputation to achieve two things at once: pointedly shame the other cultivators in attendance, and show meng yao that regardless of others’ opinions, he considers him an equal and does not endorse such behavior--and he does it while taking care that no fallout will come down on meng yao’s head.

is this yet another installment of cyan’s endless lxc defense thesis? why yes it is! no one is surprised! but this is my whole point: both meng yao and lan xichen understand the respective hierarchy and power dynamics within the room, while nie mingjue very much does not. this is not because nie mingjue is a bad person or because nie mingjue is stupid--it’s a combination of personality and upbringing. nie mingjue is straightforward and has no patience for such games. but then again, he can afford not to play because he was born into such a high position: that’s a privilege.

to break it down: meng yao knows that he is the lowest-ranked person in the room, sees the way people are subtly disrespecting him in full view of his general who is doing nothing about it. in some ways, this is good -- nie mingjue’s style of dealing with conflict is very direct and not at all suited to delicate political maneuvering. after all, the way he promoted meng yao was actually quite dangerous to meng yao: he essentially guaranteed that his men would bear meng yao a grudge and that their disrespect for him would only be compounded by their bitterness at being punished on his behalf. (it’s like, why often getting parents or teachers to intervene ineffectively in bullying can just be an incitement to more bullying -- same concept) meng yao’s reaction during that scene shows that he’s pretty painfully aware of this and is trying to defuse the situation to no avail. nie mingjue gives him a bootstrap speech (rip nie mingjue i love u so much but. sir) and then promotes him, which is pretty much the only saving grace of that entire exchange, for meng yao at least.

lan xichen, on the other hand, understands both that meng yao is the lowest-ranked person in the room and that any direct attempt to chastise the other cultivators in the room will only serve to hurt meng yao in the long run. he knows that if this were brought to nie mingjue’s attention, he would be outraged and not shy about it -- also bad for meng yao. so he uses what he has: his immaculate reputation. by acting contrary to the other cultivators’ behavior, he demonstrates that he finds their actions unacceptable but with the plausible deniability that it wasn’t directed at them, that this is just zewu-jun being his usual generous self. this means that the other cultivators have no one to blame but themselves, nothing to do but question their own actions. there is nowhere to cast off their discomfort. meng yao didn’t do anything. lan xichen didn’t do anything -- he just thanked meng yao and drank his tea, isn’t that what it’s there for? he doesn’t disrupt the peace, he doesn’t attack anyone and put them on the defensive, but he does make his position very clear.

i know this is a really small thing and i’m probably beating it to death, but I really think this shows just how cognizant lan xichen is of politics and emotional cause and effect in such situations. certainly, out of context I think the scene reads kind of cliche, but within the greater narrative of the story and within the arc of these characters specifically, I think it was a really smart scene to include. it also showcases lan xichen’s style of action: that he moves around and with a problematic situation as opposed to moving straight through.

not to be salty on main again, but this is why it’s very frustrating to me when I see people call lan xichen passive when he is anything but. his actions just don’t look like traditional “actions”, especially to an american audience. it’s easy to understand lan wangji and wei wuxian’s style of problem-solving: taking a stand, moving through, staying strong. lan xichen is juggling an inconceivable number of factors in any given situation, weighing his responsibilities in one role against those in another, and then trying to find the path through the thicket that will cause the least harm, both to himself and the thicket. lan wangji and wei wuxian are not particularly good at considering the far-reaching consequences of their actions -- again, not because they are bad people, but because of a combination of personality and upbringing. they’d just hack through the thicket, not thinking about the creatures that live in it. that is not a terrible thing! it isn’t. it’s a different way of approaching a problem, and it has different priorities. that’s okay. there are advantages and disadvantages on both sides, and where you come down is going to depend on your personal values.

okay we’ve spiraled far and away from my original point, but let’s circle back: i was talking about class.

I think it’s undeniable that class, birthright, fate etc. are some of the driving forces of thematic conflict in mdzs, and the way each character interacts with those forces reveals a lot about themselves and also about the larger themes of fate, chance, and what it means to be righteous and good and how that is and isn’t rewarded. a lot of the tragedy of mdzs (the tragedy that isn’t caused by direct aggression on the part of one group or another) stems from the injustices and slights that people suffered due to their lot in life. it isn’t fair. none of it is fair! we sympathize with jin guangyao because we recognize that what he suffered was unconscionable, even if we don’t excuse him. i sympathize A Lot with xue yang as well for similar reasons, though I understand that’s a harder sell. this is a story focused on the mistakes of an entrenched, aging gentry and the effects that those mistakes had on their children, and a lot of it has to do with prejudice based in class and birth status. whether the prejudice was the true reason or whether it was just a convenient excuse, the fact remains that the systems in place rewarded and protected the people in power who used it to cling to that power. mdzs is also a story of how the circumstances of one’s life can offer you impossible choices that you cannot abstain from, and it asks us to be compassionate to the people who made terrible choices in terrible times. it’s about the inherent complexity in all things! that sometimes, there are no good choices, and i don’t know, i’d like to think that people would show me compassion if I had to make the choices some of these characters did. not just wei wuxian, mind you, every single one of them. except jin guangshan because I Do Hate Him sorry. and i guess wen ruohan. i think that’s it.

good. GOD this is clocking in at //checks notes -- just over 5k. 8′D *stuffs some weeds into my mouth like the clown i am*

(ko-fi? :’D *lies down*)

2K notes · View notes

douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years

Text

WHAT YOU TALK TO PRESENT TO MOVE TO DIE

A lot of what we try to do in the application process is to weed out the people who are rich enough not to work do anyway. People who do good work often think that whatever they're working on is no good answer. Idealistic undergraduates find their unconsciously preserved child's model of wealth confirmed by eminent writers of the past. Doing something simple at first glance usually never were when you really looked at it. The idea that we're the center of things is difficult to discard. Pick 30 startups that eminent angels have recently invested in, give them each a million dollars each to move, a lot of people probably thought we'd have some working system for micropayments by now. It would have been a junior professor at that age, and he couldn't afford anything more.1

In retrospect, it would arguably be immoral not to. You'd seem a barbarian if you behaved that way today. This is generally true even if competitors get lots of attention. And even more, you need a certain activation energy to start a startup, you get to pick the startups.2 Common Lisp falls short. Historically there have always been certain towns that were centers for certain industries, and if they take it, they'll take it on their terms. Proving your initial plan was mistaken would just get you a bad grade. A mean person can't convince the best people have other options. This is especially true in fields where the rules change. The best place to work, there was no point in making more than you could steal it.3 That's what board control means in practice. This won't work for all startups, but philosophically they're at the opposite end of the humanities.

If we could answer that question it would be a better word. Up till about 1400, China was richer and more technologically advanced than Europe. If Lenin walked around the offices of a company like Apple and think, how could I ever make such a thing? Another view is that a programming language rather than, say, an exercise in denotational semantics or compiler design if and only if hackers like it. They lived in houses full of servants, wore elaborately uncomfortable clothes, and travelled about in carriages drawn by teams of horses which themselves required their own houses and servants. Startups are so hard and emotional that the bonds and emotional and social support that come with friendship outweigh the extra output lost.4 The ones on startups get tested by about 70 people every 6 months. I gave a talk where I said that the average age of the founders of Yahoo, Google, and Microsoft, among others.5

Notes

This was made a Knight of the leading scholars of that. In the Valley, the main reason is that they got to the biggest successes there is some kind of business you should at least notice duplication though, because I realized that without the spur of poverty are only arrows on parts with unexpectedly sharp curves.

We walked with him for the most successful startups get started in New York, but it's also a second factor: startup founders is how much of a promising lead and should in some ways First Round Capital is closer to a later Demo Day, there is the most successful ones tend not to. These two regions were the richest of their growth from earnings.

In technology, so they made, but we are at some of those things that's not art because it isn't critical to do, and so on. In When the same in the definition of property.

Content is information you don't know of a company with benevolent aims is currently undervalued, because it is less than the actual lawsuits rarely happen. We couldn't talk meaningfully about revenues without growing big in people, you need is a list of n things seems particularly collectible because it's a hip flask. The tipping point for me, I mean type I startups. The two 10 minuteses have 3 weeks between them so founders can get cheap plane tickets, but bickering at several hundred dollars an hour most people will give you fifty times as much as people in Bolivia don't want to live a certain level of incivility, the more educated ones usually reply with some equivocation implying that lies believed for a future in which case this behavior at least guesses by pros about where those market caps will end up saying no to science as well.

Which means if the students did well they would probably be interrupted every fifteen minutes with little loss of productivity. I'm going to create events and institutions that bring ambitious people together. The revenue estimate is based on that.

Thanks to Hutch Fishman, Patrick Collison, Jessica Livingston, John Bautista, Sarah Harlin, Trevor Blackwell, and Simon Willison for smelling so good.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #undergraduates #Bautista #startup #sup #teams #future #Google #centers #writers #bonds #behavior #factor

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yandere-daydreams · 3 years

Text

Title: A Hoarding Problem.

Pairing: Pro-Hero!Yandere!Touya/Reader (Boku No Hero Academia).

Word Count: 2.5k

Synopsis: Todoroki Touya has a problem, and he’s not sure he wants to fix it.

TW: Hero AU, Minor Spoilers, Kidnapping, Mutual Extortion, Emotional Manipulation, Slight Gaslighting, Bondage, Implied Infantilization, Mention of Sedatives (No Actual Use), and Themes of Poverty.

Todoroki Touya had a problem.

He had a lot of problems, technically. His secretary always managed to schedule the most important meetings at the least convenient times, his coffee never seemed hot enough but always burnt his tongue, and despite his fame and wealth and strange, cult-like popularity, the only thing journalists ever seemed to want to talk about was his father, why Touya didn’t inherit the ‘Endeavour’ title, how long it’d take him to live up to all those stacking, swelling expectations. He had a lot of problems, dozens, hundreds. He had a lot. Everyone did, but Touya didn’t have to deal with everyone else’s.

He just had to deal with you.

You were one of those concentrated types, your smile always a little too personal and your stare always a little too intense, like you were trying to see how much his organs would go for on the black-market before you bothered to cut him open. You were put together, too, and if he hadn’t taken the liberty of following you home so many times, he never would’ve guessed you were staying at some cheap, back-alley motel, the kind meant for people who just wanted to be anywhere but the place they used to be. A run-away, he’d guessed, at first, but you were too old for that, and you were too good at pretending you weren’t living out of the suitcase Touya was starting to get tired of rummaging through. Maybe you were a petty criminal, a villain too minor to be on his radar - he didn’t know, and he really wasn’t interested in finding out. All that mattered to him was that he’d met you, decided he liked you, and hadn’t been able to think about much else since. It was an issue, really, and it was starting to get in the way of his work. It was starting to get in the way of everything.

But, he’d had this kind of problem before. He knew what to do. He knew how to handle it.

You seemed to want to be handled, too.

You were laughing, again, but he wasn’t really sure why. It might’ve been something he said, your own little joke, but he didn’t mind the sound, all bells and wind chimes and a practiced ease that threatened to divert his focus, as he tried to keep his eyes on the road. You were slumped in the passenger seat, and if he checked, he was sure you’d be looking out the window, counting turns, memorizing street names, doing what little you could to track the convoluted, darkened route he’d been sure to plan out days ago. You’d come willingly, but you wanted to make sure you’d be able to find your way back without his help. For his own sake, Touya pretended you were just being cautious.

“I didn’t expect a Hero to live so far from the city.” Your voice was just as light, just a notch more confident than it had been at the convenience store you both frequented, the one you’d been working at when he stumbled in, closer to sunrise than sunset and ready to fall in love with the first person who smiled at him. The job hadn’t lasted, but Touya couldn’t think of a reason to mourn the loss. You wouldn’t have been desperate enough to take him up on his offer, if you still had a steady income. “Didn’t mark you down as one of those ‘cabin in the woods’ types, either. I’m not going to find, like, a box of dismembered body parts or anything, right?”

“Obviously,” He scoffed, his tone just playful enough to be disarming. “I try to keep my victims in one piece. Hackjobs aren’t as satisfying as you’d think.”

That earned a jab to his side, an offended ‘my hackjob would be’, but you lost interest in the exchange as soon as he reached the driveway, coming to a stop in front of that sprawling, climbing villa, three stories of concrete and glass, a stark contrast from the forest that surrounded it. You took a moment to take it in, scanning over the building, a predator evaluating its docile prey. When you turned towards Touya, your smile was just a little wider, your expression just a little brighter. “I really can’t thank you enough,” You went on, your tone so sentimental, Touya could almost ignore the hollowness behind it. “You sure you’re alright with this? My last place fell through, but I’m sure I’ll be able to find somewhere else to--”

“Don’t worry about that. All this is curtesy of the Hero Commission, and they don’t keep track of who comes ang goes.” Touya didn’t wait for you to finish, he didn’t have to, even if he did let himself enjoy your faux-gratitude as he undid his seatbelt. “Besides, it’s my job, right? I wouldn't want to find out you went and got yourself hurt because I couldn’t be bothered to clean out my guest room.” There was a slight pause, a short hesitation. You flinched when he raised his hand, but you didn’t pull away as he cupped your cheek, only learning into his warm palm. “Besides, I can’t say I’d mind a little company, all alone out here.”

In his defense, he wasn’t going to kiss you. Really, he wasn’t that mean, but he didn’t have a chance to refuse, not before your lips were on his, your hands in his hair, all sudden passion and over-eager excitement. He was stunned, at first, but Touya recovered quickly. Biting back a smirk, he leaned into the gesture, slinging an arm around your hip, tilting your head back and doing whatever he could to bring you close, to keep you close, just like he’d been dying to for months, now. He could feel you stifle a laugh, moving to pull away, but Touya only drifted to your neck, nipping at the edge of your jaw before he found your jugular, aiming for the sensitive area just above it. You only chuckled, blunt nails running over his scalp. “And I thought I was the needy one,” You chided, half-hearted pushing at his chest. “It’s cold out here, Todoroki. At least take me inside first.”

Right. Of course. He got carried away.

He almost forgot why you were actually here.

He didn’t let you go. He didn’t want to, so he didn’t bother trying, pulling you over the center console in one swift motion, leaving you in his lap, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder and an arm under your thighs, supporting your weight as he jerkily kicked open the door, letting you duck your head and giggle, always giggling, always trying to pretend to be meek and harmless and innocent. He wondered if you’d stop, eventually, if you’d drop the act once he decided both of you should show your true colors. He’d be lying if he said he hated the idea of choking it out of you.

The front door wasn’t locked. He didn’t bother, not with his profession, not when he knew he’d be coming home with you, tonight. If you noticed, you didn’t seem to mind, focusing on locking your ankles behind his back, on swallowing down that small, pained groan as he slammed your back into the nearest wall of his darkened villa just a little too hard, pretending not to notice as your smile wavered in the minimal light. “I don’t think this counts as protecting the--”

You were cut off by a loud thud, metallic and hollow, like someone hitting drywall with a baseball bat. You paused, for a second, your gaze flickering to the space behind him, but he was quick to kiss your cheek, to bring your attention back to where it should be, on him. “‘s just my roommate,” He mumbled, hoping you’d be too used to the excuse to linger on it. “Don’t pay it too much mind. He’s probably just fucking around.”

This time, your smile dropped completely. “The Hero Commission... lets you have a roommate?”

He caught his mistake a second too late. He opened his mouth, ready to explain, but another noise interrupted him, a rattling this time, followed by another deafening, irritating thud. He grit his teeth, but you only stiffened, your next shove to his chest a little more insistent than the last. “He might be hurt,” You started, the concern in your voice more genuine than it’d been all night. “We should check on him, that sounds--”

“It’ll be fine.” He spoke a little too quickly, a little too aggressively. Instantly, your eyes widened, your entire body going tense against his, and Touya had to fight not to lose his composure completely. It was too soon. It was too early. He wanted to be sweet. He didn’t want to be mean, not with you. “Just ignore it, sweetheart, it’s not important. You’re here for me, right? The brat shouldn’t--”

It was a slip-up. A petname so common, he hardly noticed he’d said it until you were scrambling, writhing, digging your nails into his biceps deep enough to break the skin, forcing him to let you go out reflex alone. You barely managed to catch yourself, but you stayed on your feet, shoving past Touya while he was still hissing out curses, clutching at bleeding wounds and broken scars. There was another thud, and you moved to sprint in the direction it’d come from, but he was a Hero, he was trained for this. You were on the ground before you could take a step, Touya straddling your stomach, his hands around your neck. He didn’t squeeze, though, he didn’t want to strangle you. He was going to be patient. This was going to be different. “Just behave,” He growled, fighting to hold onto the last threads of his restraint. “It’s not important. I’m important, and that’s all you have to care about. That’s all you’re ever going to care about, from now on.”

You didn’t hesitate. As soon as he finished, you were jerking forward, your forehead colliding with his and forcing a ragged scream from both of you. He’d give you credit for that. Villains and Heroes fought with quirks, specialized weapons, tactics and strategies and purpose. This was blunt. This was thoughtless. It was impulsive, and it was stupid, and it worked, letting you push him away as he recoiled, suddenly too focused on his pounding skull to care about what you might find. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. None of your little tantrums would.

He’d find you, eventually. After that, the results would be the same.

That might’ve been why Touya took his time, pushing himself to his feet slowly, following the sound of your footsteps before they abruptly stopped. He tried not to be bothered by it, even if there was a familiar pang of anxiety when he saw you, your mouth agape and your body slack, leaning against a door that should not be open. He might’ve walked a little faster, out of habit, but if you noticed him, you were too distracted to care. He couldn’t blame you. Not when he knew what you were looking at.

He got a little carried away, with the girls’ room. Pale pink paint coated on every surface, fairy-lights strung along the ceiling, and a white, circular rug, fluffy and stainless and just small enough to stop before it reached the three cots, settled along each of the walls, each with its own frilly sheets and plush mattress and bare, metallic frame, something Touya might’ve considered swapping out if their opponents were a little more grateful. Two were empty, the first a spare if he needed room for a future ‘guest’ and the second a reminder to check on the bitch in his basement, and the third was on its side. That was what you were focusing on, what he couldn’t seem to pull you away from as he slotted himself against your back, wrapping an arm loosely around your waist.

That, and the girl sitting in front of it, a ball-gag stuffed in her mouth and a collar around her neck, thick and leathery and attached to a chain, keeping her tethered to the nearest wall. There were a few noticeable dents in the plaster around her bracket, but Touya had better things to worry about.

There was a garbled scream, something that might’ve been a warning, but Touya silenced her off with a glare sharp enough cut glass. “Shut it,” He barked, all pretense of patience gone. “Shut up, or you’re going to spend the next week in a muzzle. I’ll deal with you later.”

“You kidnapped her.” At least you waited your turn, even if the delay did little too soften the disgust in your voice. “You’re a monster. You’re supposed to be--”

“A hero?” You tried to shove him away, to pry him off of you, but he only tightened his grip. “And you’re supposed to be an innocent civilian, aren’t you? Something soft and appreciative I can feel good about helping, fuck, and forget about the next day, right?”

“Don’t try to--”

“Where do you keep the bottle, sweetheart?” Now, it was your turn to go tense, to know he saw something he shouldn’t have seen. “Don’t lie to me. It won’t be pretty, if we start off this relationship on a bad foot.”

You hesitated, for a moment. He saw your swallow, watched your eyes dart towards anything that could’ve been considered a weapon, but his fingers slipped under your shirt and you bowed your head, giving in at the slightest threat of something worse. He liked that about you. Such a simple thing, too afraid of pain to take the risk. “My jacket. There are pockets on the inside - it’s on the right.”

He’d give you credit. It looked realistic, if nothing else, a translucent orange bottle with a white lid, the label scratched off in a way that could’ve been mistaken for nervous fidgeting, if Touya didn’t know better. With one hand, he popped off the lid, barely glancing at the unmarked pills inside before letting out a pleased hum.

Sedatives. Not lethal, but effective. The type you could get from any low-ranking Villain with a surplus supply and a greater need for clients than most.

The type that could be slipped into wine glasses, mixed into water. The type that’d keep your trusting, unsuspecting host nice and unconscious while you helped yourself to anything that wasn’t nailed down. While you robbed him blind, stowed yourself away in another cheap motel room two towns over, and scouted for the next poor guy who’d be too embarrassed to say anything.

Touya couldn’t help himself. He laughed, loudly and shamelessly, watching as you withered, glaring at the tiled floor. He couldn’t tell if it was fear of loathing, half-suspended terror or that deep, ingrained hatred any good predator should feel when it’s caught in a trap, but your voice couldn’t have made it more clear. “What’s your plan?” You spat, all humiliation, all spirited, adorable anger. His grin widened, the lasting tension in his shoulders dissolving, but if you noticed how much he enjoyed your little show, you didn’t bother trying to keep your mouth shut. “Arrest me? Hand me over to the police and let me tell them all about your creepy, fucked-up dollhouse?” You never looked up. You never so much as tried to meet his eyes, let alone glance at the ‘victim’ you’d been so intent on saving a few minutes ago. “Let me go. You don’t have another choice, unless you’re willing to get your hands dirty.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, I’m not gonna kill you.” It wasn’t a lie, but you didn’t seem to believe him, going rigid as his lips brushed against the nape of your neck. It was a fleeting gesture, but he didn’t let himself linger. He’d have plenty of time for that once he got you used to your new role, under his care. Once you got used to him. “I’m not gonna hand you over, either. That’d just be a waste.”

He might’ve been a little mean, after all. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have given you so much time to answer, so much time to tremble. At least you didn’t try to get away, this time. You were already learning. “I… I don’t--”

“I’m going to take care of you, angel. Just like I’m taking care of her.”

There was a moment of stillness, a small, ragged sob, but Touya couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty. He couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but satisfied.

Because Todoroki Touya had a problem. Because he was awful and hungry and greedy, and he had a problem.

And he wasn’t sure he wanted to fix it.

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mmmleckerlecker · 3 years

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I was reading the questions you've answered, and I'm curious now: you said that the co-existence between preds and prey is very recently. So I was thinking the HP world from years ago, when pred could snatch up whoever prey they wanted... How was the society in that time? How did they live? (Headcanon: prey lived underground?) Did the preds have no qualms in consuming whoever they could find? (prey children/teens or the elderly, for example?)... The harmony was founded by a prey or pred? (1/2)

What was the reason for the preds to make the jump from consuming indiscriminately to the public/private contracted prey? (another headcanon: preykind severely disminishing in numbers?) I find your worldbuilding so enchanting, I'm sorry for the avalanche of questions. You're awesome! (2/2)

AHHHH YES!!! THE QUESTION I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR!!! No need to apologize!!! I have considered making a post about stuff like this for awhile now but I’m always like “do people REALLY wanna hear all that?” But now i have the perfect excuse. Thank you, anon! You’re awesome too!! (WARNING this kinda turned into a chapter length read. So I hope y’all like to read history about fictional worlds.)

Okay so. This is all stuff I’ve sorta kept in my head and have built upon when I’ve had ideas, so sorry if there are some gaps currently haha.

So I imagine preds and prey started trying to “make peace” about five centuries ago but didn’t start living in true “harmony” until about two hundred years ago. And I use the term “harmony” loosely because clearly there’s still a lot of infighting happening. Before that, the preds and prey lived in two entirely separate cultures. The prey lived in larger, more stationary groups while the preds lived in much smaller, more nomadic groups. They also DEFINITELY didn’t speak the same language.

So for preds, the groups they would live in were more like traveling pods that consisted of maybe 1-3 families living/working together. Having groups of preds getting too large was… not sustainable. It would create too much competition for food. So each group would usually give other groups of preds a wide berth. Granted there were definitely still spats for territory, especially if said territory had a good supply of prey available.

Prey, much like in modern times, were never really the preds’ main food source, however. Preds would still hunt and gather like normal. It would usually take some organizing to get a raid together on a prey village (or a pred could just get lucky and stumble across one that wandered off alone). Consuming prey all the time was just too much effort. They weren’t a practical food source nor a completely sustainable one if they were over-predated. Also! Keep in mind, the more a pred consumes, the more their body acclimates to handling such a large meal. It would be better for the preds to consume every once in awhile and have their prey take longer to digest (hence, keeping them fueled longer) than to consume ALL THE TIME and risk addiction. I think consuming would probably become more regular in the cold months too, when it was harder for preds to find other food sources.

As for WHO the preds would consume? Definitely adults would make for the best meals. Children? Well, I imagine prey would be very protective of their children, first of all, making them difficult to obtain. But also they would just make… not as filling meals? Also prey children are mostly the same size as pred children so there might be that little hesitation there on the pred’s end as they’re reminded of their own kind. I guess if the pred is desperate? There’s always gonna be a time and place for special circumstances. As for the elderly… I imagine they also live in places that are harder for preds to get to. I also think if a prey managed to live that long, they would have a trick or two up their sleeve. But like I said, there’s always a possibility for things to happen.

Now for how prey live…. Like I said, they live in larger groups. There is safety in numbers, after all. These groups were basically villages, sometimes even cities where prey could really know their territory and set up defenses against any invading preds. (An underground dwelling is really cool idea tho! I also believe that prey evolved to be able to fold themselves up and be comfortable/feel safe in tight spaces that preds could never reach them in, so prey living in like a cave system might actually work really well!) Like it’s been stated in the story, prey tend to have a lot more children than preds for “just in case.” This could cause their towns to become rather large and populous sometimes.

Prey, also unlike preds, usually tried to keep in contact with neighboring towns/villages/cities. This was one of the key factors for what made it possible for the shift to both sides living in harmony to happen. Since the prey lived in settlements and kept in contact with other prey settlements, it allowed for a certain development of culture as well as the sharing and recording of knowledge that preds… just didn’t have. Prey were able to develop things like farming and running water. They could study math and science and share their knowledge in libraries and schools. They were really on their way to becoming an advanced society, they just had one big (both figurative and literal) problem holding them back. They constantly had preds attacking and killing off their people.

Despite their efforts to fight them off, the prey just weren’t winning. So they decided, if a war against preds wasn’t going to get them anywhere, then why not make peace? The first step for this was the prey learning the preds’ language. This was… dangerous, of course. But it was done enough that the prey were able to open conversation with preds. Just this move alone caused a huge shift between both sides. What are you supposed to do when your food, which for centuries has only babbled nonsense at you before you swallowed it down, suddenly starts speaking to you like an equal? It certainly gave preds pause, but not enough to stop consuming. Not that the prey didn’t expect this. They approached the preds with more than just a common language. Their first big move was offering them food. And not just any food, but GOOD FOOD. Cooked food, decadent food, spiced foods, foods that preds didn’t have the resources (nor the patience) to prepare.

Sharing food took… probably a little more effort than one might expect. Prey and preds view food fundamentally different. To prey, it’s sustenance but also something to enjoy and connect with. To preds, it’s simply something to stop hunger. There was a sort of learning curve for preds to actually learn to ENJOY food for its flavor, but once they got it… OH BOY!!! A door was opened! Because despite LIKING prey food, the preds weren’t always so good at preparing it, so it gave the prey something they could exchange for safety. (This is also something that persists into modern times. Preds are still often stereotyped as not having very refined palates and not being very good at preparing food. This is referenced a little in Heart Pangs itself as well as the one-shot I posted last week!) Once the food trade became established, it opened up relations enough to exchange other things!

The prey shared would they could with the preds in exchange for their own survival. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Sometimes it SEEMED to work but then the preds turned on them and things went downhill very quickly. But the prey had the advantage of sheer numbers and determination on their side (that and if they didn’t keep pushing they would literally be eaten alive). It took generations of negotiations, but the preds and prey eventually came to a sort of truce, though consuming never stopped entirely.

The preds weren’t stupid, they saw the prey had a lot of good stuff to offer them. At first they took what they needed and went their separate ways, but as they gained more trust from the prey, the preds encroached more and more into their territories until both sides were more or less neighbors. There were some advantages to this. If both sides cooperated enough, they were able to make further advances as civilized societies. But there were also disadvantages… like the fact that the preds were always bigger and the prey were always making sure not to anger them so it became very easy for the preds to take whatever they wanted and leave the prey with less than they deserved.

The prey even began to lose their own language as most of the preds couldn’t be bothered to learn the prey’s language (although a lot of prey terms for food and science stuck around). The preds stopped being the enemy who lived outside the prey’s walls and suddenly became the bully who lived next door. Yes, technically the prey were a little safer than before, but the advantages they once held over the preds were slipping away as the preds claimed more and more of what the prey had until the preds were able to start developing their OWN advantages.

For a long time, the preds and prey operated as two different societies that lived in one space, meaning each group had their own leaders and their own laws. But as things began getting more and more strained between each side (as they tend to do when two natural enemies live side-by-side), the prey (once more) tried to make peace. They made the bold move of reaching out to the pred leaders in an attempt to work together and function as a singular society (although both sides more or less continued to live as two societies, just under the rule of one government). The preds were surprisingly open to this change, which was a relief to the prey… at first. But then it became clear that this was mostly just a power grab for the preds to acquire more status and wealth and power amongst the prey.

Besides the fact that a lot of prey were falling into poverty because of this, the most glaring issue was that the “unification” had made it even easier for a lot of preds to break the peace and consume prey with barely any consequences. This caused a lot of prey to flee and seek out safer, more remote places to live. Eventually it got to the point where the prey leaders threatened to break away from pred society completely. The preds didn’t like this, though, as they’d gotten very used to having prey within easy reach. They also knew that losing half the people in their society would cause a lot of problems in terms of keeping everything running smoothly. However, the preds very much did not want to give up consuming entirely. It was in their nature after all, they argued.

So after A LOT of negotiations, both sides came to a compromise. The preds would actually start enforcing consuming as something illegal UNLESS the prey being consumed had agreed to it beforehand. Obviously the prey leaders couldn’t see any prey ever AGREEING to being consumed, so they settled on the compromise thinking that was the end of it. This was the true beginning of the “harmony” between preds and prey, but of course, the preds always have something up their sleeves.

Rich preds began offering up money and food and shelter to all those desperate prey in poverty. Those prey could get everything they could ever want for, the only payment was their lives ending in said pred’s gut (after a specified amount of time). These ventures started slow, but once they started to catch on, BOY DID THEY CATCH ON. The desperate prey began hearing about certain preds who were practically giving away wealth, all it took was a signature written in (figurative) blood. Meanwhile preds began hearing about other preds who had found a loophole in the consuming law and wanted in on the action. Like any good entrepreneur, the preds turned their contracts into a business and started selling them to other preds.

The prey leaders, of course, despised this, but what could they do? It all aligned with the compromise they had made. The only thing they could do was stand by and help come up with regulations for this new practice. So they did. Over the decades, the contracting businesses grew to what they are today (large corporate monsters… although the smaller, more private contracts still exist) as well as became the core to keeping the peace. Even the government itself offers contracting services now.

Society has shifted considerably in the years since harmony was reached. The two sides have mostly learned to live with each other. Prey have fought viciously to be treated as equals while a lot of preds go their whole lives without consuming (particularly fatally) even once. And, as you know, the development of neutralizers allowed preds to experience consuming without having to hurt anyone. A lot of progress has been made, but a lot of progress still needs to happen.

And I think that pretty much catches us up to the setting of Heart Pangs (whew)! I keep thinking it would be really cool to write a story that takes places in an earlier time period to further explore how different the relations between preds and prey would be, but I have yet to come up with a plot haha. Maybe someday. I’m sure an idea will come to me at a proper time. Anydays, thank you for your interest! It was really nice to be able to (finally) type all this up somewhere!!

#ahhh this is so much info!!!#but i hope some people are interested in it!!#if i accidentally raised more questions than answered them feel free to ask tho 😂#asks #heart pangs #heart pangs worldbuilding

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heeytwelve · 4 years

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"That’s practically my type”

I remember someone really smart in internet was debating that Draco Malfoy has 100% chance to be Harry Potter’s boyfriend, cause he is, in fact his type. And if we look at Harry’s girlfriends, we kinda see the pattern (quidditch, outspoken, bravery, and have I mention quidditch? ).

But anyway, this post not about those, this post about how Chosen One of Carry On universe has his type too and why Agatha wasn’t just mistake of adolescence and how he changes his views on Baz when he become actively infatuated with him.

“I’ve wanted her since the first time I saw her—walking across the Great Lawn, her long pale hair rippling in the wind. I remember seeing her and thinking that** I’d never seen anything so beautiful.** And that if you were that beautiful, that graceful, nothing could ever really touch you. It would be like being a lion or a unicorn. Nobody could really touch you, because you wouldn’t even be on the same plane as everyone else. Even sitting next to Agatha makes you feel sort of untouchable. Exalted. It’s like sitting in the sun. So imagine how it feels to date her—like you’re carrying that light around with you all the time.

Let’s elaborate. He doesn’t fall in love with her - because of her academic success or because her parents rich or because she’s kind and caring. The type of attraction that works for Simon is so called - aesthetic attraction, attraction to beauty.

And before you blame him for being shallow, I say, having strong preference for beauty is quite common among the artistic people, who grew up in desperate poverty, in small provinces, poor houses where beauty is rarity (for instance, famous ballet dancer Rudolph Nureyev was obsessed with beauty and collected a huge amount of beautiful things, because his poor childhood traumatised him). And, contrary to popular belief, Simon might have artistic tendencies, he sees beauty even dark creatures (goblins, *cough-cough* vampires), movements, colours and music.

Beauty for Simon is not a static thing to watch and enjoy the view, it’s not something he just want to own, it’s a force. Beauty protects him, it makes him untouchable, like nothing from of his previous (poor and mundane) life can touch him anymore, because he carrying the light, darkness will never reach him again. Agatha is not only his future, but also his shield. But - maybe it’s the same thing? Having future all sorted kinda shielding you from whatever you bump into.

He always mention her appearance whenever he talks about her - her clothes, her skin (”sparkles like she’s fairy”), her hair (multiple comparison with sun, light and halo). And when he decides to ignore the fact, that she quite possible betrayed him, it’s not only because he fear uncertain future but:

“She’s beautiful. And I want her. I want everything to be fine.”

Beauty as an attraction, beauty as a shield. Beauty is stability.

Now, before we talk about what all of this has to do with Baz, let’s bring up this quote:

“Like when I used to dream about becoming a footballer someday—or that my parents, my real parents, were going to come back for me.… My dad would be a footballer. And my mum would be some posh model type. ...

But we always missed you, Simon,” they’d say. “We’ve been looking for you.” And then they’d take me away to live in their mansion.”

I know, you probably roll your eyes now, like it’s stereotypical thing for poor kid in care to dream of, but isn’t that interesting, that Simon practically give us description of his future boyfriend and girlfriend as his dream parents? Now, don’t get me wrong, there is now perversion here, it’s just people he dreams to be with. People who potentially get him out of this awful reality and of course he will imagine them as the best people he can imagine - hence attraction to exactly those people. Now, we already know, that Agatha is beautiful as a model and she’s posh -Simon dwells how she good with regattas, polo matches, galas and he’s not posh enough for it. And right there, in next sentence, he mentions the only person who’s fit this interior - Baz. And let’s not forget about this:

“Baz walked into our room, much taller than me—and posher than everyone.”

There’s two interesting thing you notice when you will read Simon’s view for Baz. Simon never hesitates to use bold colours to describe how good Baz is. He never even doubts it, and Simon is not in submissive mode by any means. It’s just with Agatha - he sees the beauty and he admires it. But because Baz is evil, a threat (and potentially because he convinced that he’s heterosexual) AND Simon can’t just go in “I want him” mode, like he did with Agatha. There’s a big quote above about how Simon met Agatha and here’s one about how Simon met Baz:

“and Baz was walking towards me. Looking so cool. Like he was coming my way because he wanted to, not because there was a mystical magnet in his gut.”

Though, it is looks, Simon talks about, I want to emphasise, that while Simon is not in active infatuation phase with Baz, he still unleashes his other attraction type, attraction to power/strength. Here and in quote below he indicates one of Baz biggest powers - ability to look unfazed and perfect no matter what. Power of composure.

“but he looked fine to me—not a hair out of place. Typical.”

Back to father being footballer. One might wonder, why violinist and person so into academic success went to be the lead player in sports team? All popular movies tell us that you either this (nerd) or that (jock), and Baz suddenly both. Because he’s perfect. And because he has his personality and vampire personality. One might also wonder, had Baz overheard Simon’s obsession about being footballer/football in general before deciding to enrol to the team and collect all trophies... Anyway. Baz as footballer:

“He’s the same on the field as he is everywhere else. Strong. Graceful. Fucking ruthless.”

If you ask me, this is where Simon shows a bit his infatuation. Yes, attraction to strength, even ruthlessness (Simon is a fighter, he does appreciate good fighter too). But graceful - is about beauty. You see, I think, maybe because Simon carries traditional values he kinda does that thing: women’s modus operandi is beauty, men’s - strength, ruthlessness. Same with his parents - mum is model, father is fighter footballer. That’s ok. BUT when he starts to consider (even at the back of his mind) Baz as a romantic partner (it’s all starts when he sees that Baz is not a monster, that he’s a boy), he starts to notice his beauty more, than strength.

“He floats out over the moat and lands on the other side. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Infamous jeans scene, where Simon talking about Baz’ clothes (like he did w/Agatha) and literally checking out his arse:

“they do look like really expensive jeans. Dark. And snug from his waist to his ankles without looking tight.”

He starts to watch him aesthetically:

“I put my hand on his chest. I don’t have to step any closer to reach him. ... Baz swallows and licks his grey-pink lower lip. .. “he throws one of his pillows into my face. (It smells like him.)

“I’m watching him read—I swear he sucks on his fangs when he’s thinking.

The culmination of this development comes with “vampire club scene”:

““Every one of them must be so jealous of him. He’s everything they are, plus magic. Plus he looks the part, like he was born to be some sort of dark king.”

“Those vampires were in awe of you,” I say. “They wanted to put a crown on your head.

He has the skills AND he is royally beautiful. And Simon projecting his feelings to those night club vampires. The longer they in relationships, the more Simon dwelling on Baz beauty, just to show you this development, I’ll quote WS for a moment:

“I’ll be damned if he doesn’t look half glamourous. Like a boy Marilyn Monroe.… My brain gets kind of stuck on “boy Marilyn Monroe” for a while.”

...

“Baz casts his eyes down and smiles—girlishly, I would have said, but on him it’s not girlish. It’s, I don’t know, vulnerable.”

To elaborate, Marilyn Monroe is depiction of feminine beauty in popular culture and description of Baz as a bit feminine is something that would never happen in the beginning of “Carry On” setting. Of course, Baz opened up more to Simon (and this is important), but also Simon willing to see, no, he actually quite hungrily looking for this beauty. He is attracted to this kind of beauty AND I think, might be cause of his somewhat traditional views, he automatically looking for this in Baz, when he considering him as a partner.

BUT. Again as in WS - Baz being powerful and strong AND that being attractive (and arousing) to Simon is not going anywhere. So Simon’s type qualities - strength and beauty. (Not smartness and kindness, sorry Penny) though he does appreciate it. And lastly, let’s go back to Agatha. We talked about her beauty, but she’s also an athlete. A competitive one.

“I smile again and jump up off the bed, grabbing a pair of jeans and a purple sweatshirt that says WATFORD LACROSSE. (Agatha plays.)”

This sweatshirt Simon will proudly wear even in WS (Baz haven’t confiscated them yet :D ) - and if you think about it, it’s the way to show admiration too. And don’t forget the horse sports, she’s even more into sports than Baz (Baz would spend his summer practicing languages and violin - I believe his main passion, and football is just to unwind and fuck w/Simon, while Agatha would harvest prizes or skills in competitions). OK, no, he does play tennis :D So yes - as absolutely legit Simon’s type - Agatha do has these two qualities. They both do. Though not exactly in same proportions. Agatha radiates beauty, feminine beauty, you don’t have to watch closely to see it, it punches you in a face. But Baz is more powerful, as with Agatha, you don’t have to search for his power, it’s just there. And maybe this shift in quality proportions is what Simon needs at the end. But he certainly needs both. And let me finish this lenthy dwelling off with Baz quote, where he accidentally compares himself tells us this qualities proportions in Agatha:

“Wellbelove isn’t very powerful, but she’s gorgeous.”

There is interesting awareness between these two, but I will have a mercy and talk about it later.

#agatha wellbelove #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #simon snow #simon snow salisbury #simon snow type #simon snow affection #carry on #wayward son #my texts #Carry On Meta #simon snow meta #agatha wellbelove meta #baz pitch meta

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prurientpuddlejumper · 3 years

Text

Out Tonight (Part 6)

K!nktober 2020 Kink Bingo!: Nipple Play

<- Part 5

Summary: Backstory, Spanish lessons, and finally some sober sex! 🥳 (This chapter is very NSFW/18+)

For @thatesqcrush’s Kink Bingo challenge! And with this, I finally finish a row!

5,420 words

The twenty-minute coffee date Rafael Barba had been dreading somehow turned into hours without him realizing it. The summer morning passed quickly until the sun was at its zenith above the turtle pond, and all of the work-related responsibilities he would have been grinding himself to death on had slipped his mind as he wandered through the park with your hand in his.

It turned out that you did have a few things in common. You both grew up in the Bronx. Though when you told him where, he snorted and joked, “What is an upstanding young lady from Spuyten Duyvil doing with a boy from the projects?”

Your jaw dropped when he told you what neighborhood he grew up in. It was an area you were familiar with mainly as a place to avoid, especially, god forbid, at night. The clean-cut lawyer in a sharp suit did not look anything like what you’d expect from the poverty he came from. You just assumed his family was wealthy.

“That’s incredible,” you said, a new surge of admiration for him stoking the fire of your attraction. You scooted closer on the shaded bench beneath a tall oak you’d stopped to sit on, your bare leg pressing against his slacks. You still hadn’t kissed, everything just barely skirting the romantic. The touch of his hand shot electricity through your skin, just from his fingers brushing yours. Neither of you wanted to push things too far, too fast, considering the guilt still lingering between you. “You must be a genius.”

Instead of boasting with the sly, cocky grin you had learned was among his favorite facial expressions, he grew serious, all but a trace of a smile leaving his lips. “I just worked hard,” he said.

“Really hard,” you said, knowingly, squeezing his hand. “Even people who work hard, who are smart… it’s almost impossible to escape that kind of poverty. The fact that you did it is…”

His inquisitive eyes, matching the foliage behind him, were strained as if deciding whether to share something or not. But he did, quietly. “I still work hard. Every day. It feels like if I make one false step, everything could fall apart. But, I have enough to support my mother.”

“And an impressive collection of ties,” you chimed.

He smirked, lifting your hand to casually press a kiss to the back of your knuckles. “And suspenders.”

Your pulse raced. Looking up and down this flawlessly stylish man, it all made sense. “Dressed to kill,” you muttered. “You wear it like a disguise.”

He frowned, the warmth leaving his eyes. You had touched a nerve. “Would it be a disguise if you wore it, or just because I’ll always be poor deep down?”

“I didn’t mean—OK, I get how that sounded. I just mean… you are exceptionally attractive. Like, really attractive. I mean, why am I telling you? You know that. Look at you.” You continued the obsequious flattery until a sarcastic smile appeared in the corner of his lips. “You know, actually,” you admitted, “I only grew up in a good neighborhood because my dad re-married rich. The weeks I was with my mom… she worked three jobs just to support me and a crummy apartment. I could never actually count on what the step-family would pay for, so sometimes I rode on boats with rich people, and sometimes I lived off canned pasta. It was weird.”

He looked at you appraisingly as he assimilated this new tidbit of information. “It isn’t easy, straddling two worlds.”

“Except you worked your ass off to break into one, and I ran away into the woods and got really into trees. Trees don’t judge you for not fitting in.”

“I’m sorry for judging you,” he whispered, his voice turning surprisingly tender. He lifted a hand and gently brought it to your cheek. You closed your eyes as it made contact, his palm warm against your skin, the pad of his thumb soft as it began stroking your cheek. You leaned forward, and he closed the remaining distance, his lips capturing yours, slow and sweet. It was chaste at first, and careful, but neither of you wanted to break it, and as it continued, his arms wrapped around the small of your back and your shoulder, drawing you in deeper as his heady scent enveloped you, the taste of coffee on his tongue as his lips parted.

“Barba?”

Rafael practically jumped out of your arms as an inquisitive voice called his name, leaving you kissing the air. The voice belonged to a tall brunette woman pushing a toddler along in a stroller.

“Liv!” he practically shrieked in alarm, straightening himself.

You looked between them and the kid, and felt like such an idiot. “Oh my god, you are cheating!”

Liv gave you a look, and burst out laughing. “Sorry, sorry, nothing like that. I’m Sergeant Benson, SVU,” she extended you a firm handshake and explained, “I work with Barba on a lot of cases.” She turned back to Barba with an amused smirk. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your date, I just couldn’t believe my eyes. Counselor, I didn’t realize you had a personal life.”

“It’s a new thing I’m trying. How’s Noah?”

“He’s perfect,” she smiled, cooing at the curly-haired child. “He loves the turtles, so we’re going down to the pond. Beautiful day for a nature walk.”

“She knows every tree,” Barba volunteered, puffing his chest out with the same cockiness he used to talk about himself, tipping his head at you. “Go ahead, test her.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Liv said, bemused. She gave a polite nod and a reminder that she still owed Barba a coffee for some legal thing he had come through on (which only gave you a slight pang of jealousy), and then waved goodbye, walking down the path toward the water.

You sat in silence, recovering. Barba was obviously scandalized to have been caught in a compromising position by a colleague, the tips of his ears turning red. You were glad she wasn’t his wife, but didn’t love having to suddenly confront the fact that he had an entire social life you knew absolutely nothing about. It sort of ruined the intimacy of the moment, tearing the cardboard moon out of your sky too soon.

Barba broke the silence first with a low, drawn-out groan. He turned to you, his eyes soft but flashing with passion, taking your hands in his again. “If we start seeing each other… there is a good chance you will get to know Liv in some capacity.” He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, and on the exhale beseeched, “You cannot tell her how we met.”

The earnestness with which he implored you, holding both your hands, made you burst out laughing. He did a poor job hiding his smile as he watched you double over. When you finally contained yourself, you pecked an innocent kiss to his lips. “We can say we met at a bar. We don’t have to mention all the, uh...” Karaoke. Drunken shenanigans. Dubious consent. Whatever you call we-didn’t-have-penis-in-vagina-sex-but-you-fingered-me-until-we-orgasmed. He grimaced with you as you both recalled all of the things you would not be telling anyone about your meet-cute. Then you started remembering his fingers gliding in and out of you, his hungry lips marking up your skin, and a warm shiver ran down your back. He swallowed, seeing the lustful heaviness creep into your eyes and responding with his own.

He nearly kissed you again, wrapping you in a passionate embrace that would have hastened you to a bedroom, but you pulled back. He said “seeing each other.” You thought this was a fun fling with no strings attached, and the idea that he was already thinking about more made your heart sink with guilt. “I should tell you...”

You never got to finish your thought. Liv had only gotten fifty feet when her phone rang. She was yelling into it frantically, demanding answers. Barba’s phone buzzed with an incoming message. Liv stormed back up the path, waving to him. “There’s been a… development,” she said, censoring the case details in your presence. “They need me at the precinct. You’re probably going to want to come, too.”

“I believe I am already being summoned,” he replied, checking his phone.

“Good. I need to call the sitter. Please let everyone know I’m on my way.” She hurried off, and any hint of flirtation was gone from Barba’s eyes as he stood, fully back in cold lawyer mode as he made a phone call, then another to order a Lyft.

He was already walking with quick, purposeful steps toward the nearest exit of the park when he hung up his last call and turned back to you apologetically. You had been trailing behind him, unsure if he wanted you to follow, and didn’t miss that you were an afterthought. But his regret was sincere. And the truth was, you didn’t mind this serious version of Barba at all—the sober Barba who poured his soul into getting justice and would forget a date he had been enjoying the instant duty called—because you’d seen the drunk version who fell apart, sobbing in your arms when he let down the victims. He had a hard side and a soft side, and so far, there was nothing about him that you didn’t like.

Oh god, you had a crush on him.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. It’s an emergency,” he explained, brow furrowed heavily over yearning green eyes.

Oh god, this was only supposed to be a one-night stand. Maybe a few nights, but a stand nonetheless. How dare he look at you like that?

“It’s alright. It sounds important,” you half smiled.

“Can I call you later?” he asked. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and he had none of the confident swagger usually in his voice. It was a small, hopeful sort of question that told you there were real emotional stakes to your answer.

Oh god, did he have a crush on you, too? Did you have a crush on each other? This was terrible!

Drawn in as if by a magnetic pull, you closed the short distance, threaded your hands between his arms and body, and clasped them together behind his back. His lips quirked as his confidence returned. His hands cupped the sides of your face, then his mouth crashed against yours, fired with all of the passion of desire realized and reciprocated, relief, and longing. It was the type of kiss that would have been drawn out and sensual if it hadn’t been condensed by necessity into a hurried goodbye. You were out of breath and overheated when he broke it, seconds later.

“I’ll be waiting,” you breathed. He gave a hungry growl and a sharp, promising stare that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core before running to catch his ride.

***

Barba hated intelligent psychopaths. Even after they’d been put away, there was always some new appeal to fight, a new witness to come forward, some clever misdirection to cast their crimes into doubt. He’d been running around since noon working out deals with witnesses, obtaining warrants, and warning Liv’s detectives that they were being played. Now the sun was hanging low in the sky, and he realized he had never heard Carmen’s futile warning for him to go home already because his secretary didn’t work on weekends when he was pulling overtime. It was just him and his headache.

The time. What time was it?

He sat bolt upright in his leather office chair and groped for his phone. There was a notification from you from an hour ago that he vaguely recalled hearing buzz.

“How’s the emergency?”

He cursed and checked the time. It was getting late. Too late to make a reservation at any of the swankier restaurants he could take you. But he called you anyway, and was delighted when you answered.

“Hey. It’s Barba,” he said.

“I know,” said your amused voice on the other end of the line. “Your contact is in my phone, Sexy Karaoke Lawyer.”

He groaned in a way that was secretly a laugh. “Alright, Lorax. Are you free tonight? I’d like to take you to dinner. Actually, I thought I could make dinner. At my place?”

You gasped with mock scandalization. “Is this a booty call, Mr. Barba?”

He choked. “No. I just—” He stopped stammering when you started cackling like a grinning idiot, and his voice dropped low. “What if it is?”

The sudden shift in confidence caught you off guard, and he heard you swallow. “Then I’ll be there.”

***

It had been ages since he’d had time to make his abuelita’s costillas de puerco recipe. Or rather, it had been ages since he’d made time, considering he hardly had the time to do it now. He rushed through the corner deli at lightning pace to pick up what he needed, and rushed through prep, knowing you’d be over in less than an hour.

He had no idea why he felt such a drive to impress you. Why he needed to see you again so soon when you’d spent hours by his side that morning. The entire short time he had known you had been strange, anxiety-inducing, and guilt-ridden, but instead of hating you, he found himself wanting more.

The truth he didn’t want to admit was, every interaction with you, no matter how awkward, had been underscored by a potent sexual chemistry, and at the moment, he was nothing but a horny teenage boy who wanted to get laid.

That was all. This was some mid-forties hormonal resurgence. Madre de dios, it was a midlife crisis.

Or maybe this was what happened when he stopped getting in his own way. He’d spent years nursing a broken heart, years that turned into decades guarding himself against anyone getting too close. He never thought he’d feel this way again for somebody new. It was too late in life to meet someone who would know him as well as his childhood friends from el barrio, and they were all married by now. But he’d opened himself up just an inch, just for a night, by mistake, and let someone see past the hard, cynical facade, and now he wanted you to know him. He wanted to know you. He wanted to see how this ended. Maybe this was a revelation.

His heart jumped in his chest at the buzz of the door intercom.

***

“Hola, Rafael,” you greeted, and he grinned at the way you pronounced his name with the correct accent. “Oh my gosh, what smells amazing?”

He stood aside and nodded you in. The apartment was tiny, as most city apartments are, but tidy and well decorated. You were immediately drawn to the sturdy dining room table made of solid burl, and admired the natural chaotic pattern of the grain.

“It needs fifteen more minutes,” he said, observing with amusement how you completely ignored the good silver he’d broken out and started stroking the wood.

“What ever shall we do to pass the time?” you pouted innocently. Barba growled low in his throat, cupping a hand around your hip to draw you close, and you responded by pressing your hips flush against his, smiling lustily. Well, you had more or less agreed that dinner was a pretense for a booty call—no reason not to get right to it.

You hadn’t changed, but he was wearing a more casual wine-colored cashmere sweater, and you ran your hand up it, relishing the velvet softness under your palm as well as the shape of his chest. His lips met yours hot and searching, but didn’t stop there. They trailed over the side of your mouth, kissing down your jaw. He pressed wet, hungry kisses along your neck, and you moaned as his tongue lapped over the soft underside of your throat, his hands gliding over your hips. He pulled back by an inch. “Are you sure… you want this?” he murmured.

“God yes,” you moaned with your lips in his perfect salt-and-pepper hair, arousal raising your temperature as your body responded to his touch. “You haven’t been drinking this time?”

“Not a drop,” he replied huskily, somehow making it sound lewd as he resumed kissing the crook of your neck, and over your shoulder. You curled your fingers through his hair, and backed you up until your legs hit the edge of the table, and rested your weight against it, enjoying the feeling of being pinned as you angled your pelvis to grind against his growing erection.

“Oh, Rafa...” you moaned. “Can I call you Rafa?” you asked, not sure if the nickname was too personal. With the emotional baggage of your first night together, you hadn’t been sure if being on a first-name basis was respectful enough.

“You can call me anything you want,” he purred, his teeth gently pinching your shoulder.

You made a deep, chesty noise, sinfully considering that. “Don’t give me such broad permission, or you might regret it… papi.”

He groaned, and you felt his cock kicking against your cunt. Bunching up your skirt over your hips, you rocked your hips against him, panting just from feeling the strength of his arousal through his clothes. “Yes,” he hissed softly, holding you firmly against him as he worked his clothed erection against your panties, growing more excited with every mewl and shudder it drew from your lips. “That night was… moronic… but I remember the way I felt… how much I wanted you.” He turned his head and sucked a light bruise into your neck. “Do you still feel that way?”

You dipped your head to coax him back to your mouth, his pink lips wet with saliva as your tongue tasted them. “I wanted you to fuck me so bad,” you groaned, jerking your hips for emphasis on the word fuck. “But your fingers are very skilled… and your mouth...” You kissed him again, and felt his hand reach between your legs to slide your panties off.

His fingers paused halfway down the elastic. “Is this moving too fast?” he panted, suddenly trying to be reasonable. The kind of thing you would worry about if you were building a long-term relationship.

“Shh,” you hushed him gently. “I don’t want to think about too fast or too slow, or how different our lives are, or what’s going to happen after tonight. We’re just two strangers having fun. Can’t it just be that?”

He kissed you so softly, then. So tenderly that he could only have been subliminally trying to convince you of something more. His heart drummed with possessive affection; he already knew he wanted more than just tonight. At least the primitive, reckless part of him that didn’t overthink and over-plan every decision did. The rational part of him and the part that would say anything to please you came to an accord as he nodded, lips moving against your skin, “It can be.”

You grabbed his wrist and helped him slip your underwear the rest of the way off, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. His fingers didn’t immediately plunge themselves into your drenched folds, and his hips didn’t immediately return to grind against your wetness. His intelligent, cocky green eyes gave you a probing stare.

“Y qué quieres hacer esta noche?” he purred, low and seductive, giving you a choice.

“Oh, papi, me encanta cuándo hablas español. I want you to do anything you want to me. Anything,” you moaned, fairly certain that, with one or two exceptions, you really meant it. This man turned you on in ways you’d never experienced. There was nothing you wouldn’t try if he wanted it, and you knew he’d stop the second you asked, which made you feel bolder.

He chuckled. “Don’t give me such broad permission, dulce naturalista.”

The promise of mischief in his voice made you shiver, your cunt dripping. “Anything, papi. I just… want to know that you want me.”

He hummed. “This dress, this flimsy thing,” he hooked his index fingers through the narrow shoulder straps and tugged. “Did you know I’ve been staring at it all day, thinking about doing this?” He pulled the front down, just by a few inches, and freed your nipples. He dipped his head, and you gasped as he took one in his mouth.

“Oh god, it feels so good,” you whined as he began to suck, rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger. It was like he had a direct connection to your clit. He wasn’t even touching you there, but a hot pressure began to build between your legs as he devoured your sensitive nipples.

Then he suddenly released, your hard peak popping out of his mouth with a wet sound, and you whined for him not to stop. “Tu no dominas el español, verdad?” he asked.

“Qué?” you blurted, confused, but answering his question by not understanding it.

“I didn’t think so,” he said, a devilish look in his eyes. “You need practice, so I’ve decided I’ll only give you what you want if you say it in Spanish.”

“Pero… Qué pasa si… yo no sé… how to say it in Spanish?” You did want to learn more dirty talk, but this game didn’t seem fair. You wanted him to keep sucking your tits.

“You said I could do anything I wanted...” he reminded you, bringing his hand back to one of your breasts and kneading it tormentingly slowly. “Si no lo sabes, intenta. Practica, practica, practica.”

You wondered if this was some sort of dominance thing, or if he just liked watching you struggle with his native language. It was a bit exciting, though, you had to admit. Your pulse was racing with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment, because you genuinely had no idea how to say what you wanted. “Mis… pechos? Tu lengua. Por favor.” you pointed from his mouth to your breasts.

“Por favor, chupa mis pezones,” he corrected. “Repite.” You repeated it, and before you’d finished the last syllable, he replied, “Con gusto,” and began stimulating your nipples to the point of torture with his nimble lawyer’s tongue.

“Oh god,” you whimpered, your voice high and pleading, “It feels so good.” You bucked your hips into his and curled your fingers around the back of his head trying to force him to keep going, but he pulled back.

“En español,” he chided.

“En serio?!” you complained, but he simply watched you with his eyebrows quirked, waiting. “Me siento bien?” you tried. He smiled approvingly and lowered his sultry mouth to your skin again, flicking your hardened peak while pinching it between his lips. This time he pushed his hips back against yours so you could feel the heat of his erection on your pussy, and it sent new waves of electricity coursing through your body, which was already heaving just with the attention to your breasts. “Por favor, más... Oh god, yes,” you whimpered.

“Qué sabor muy rica, tu piel,” he murmured, muffled in your skin. “You taste delicious.” The vibrations from his speech tore a choked whimper from your lips, and you bucked your hips against his cock.

You bit down on your lower lip, fighting your rising climax even as you lifted one leg, wrapping it over his hip, to hasten it. “I’m gonna—oh god, you’re going to make me come just from this!”

“Voy a venir,” he coached you in a firm, teacher-like voice that nearly made you double over with arousal. “O puedes decir, ‘Me vas a poner a venir.’”

“M-me pon… ah!” he lightly nipped at your sensitive peak, turning the rest of what you were trying to say into helpless babble. “Please, please fuck me… oh god.” Before he could correct you, you remembered what he’d taught you in the bar right before begging you to leave with him so he could fuck your brains out. “Dámelo duro, papi.”

His whole body shuddered as he took in a shaking breath, but sober Barba never lost control until he decided to surrender it. As much as he wanted to fuck you, he was having too much fun teasing you. “You could also say, ‘Quiero que me coges,’” he explained academically, and you growled with frustration, writhing under him, your cunt seeking purchase against his cock. “If you’re going to speak a language, you’ve got to practice it,” he said, his voice far too calm and even for the circumstance, even with its wicked undertone.

“Dámelo! Por favor! Dáme tu pinga!” you begged frantically, rapid-firing off every way to ask for his cock that you could think of. You reached between your bodies and grasped his engorged sex through his tightened pants and stroked him hard from balls to tip. Your efforts were rewarded with an involuntary whine, Barba’s hips jerking forward.

“Me rindo,” he whimpered in surrender. His breath was ragged and he looked ready to fall apart. You purred with victory, but as you slowed the furious pace of your stroking, he recovered enough of his senses to smirk through his lust. “Pero primero, quiero saborearte.” His voice was thick, and his eyes dark as a tropical storm on a Caribbean island. He lifted the leg you’d wrapped around him up onto the table, and knelt beneath you. “Con tu permiso?”

You nodded, gasping sharply even before his tongue made contact with your soaked pussy just from the obscene expression on his face as he opened his mouth and extended the point of his tongue as he slowly leaned toward you. Your hands braced behind you on the table for support. Then you cried out loud when that tongue did hit you, slightly cold from the air, but quickly warming to match you as his mouth closed over your whole cunt. “Ah, que rica,” he sighed into your pussy, lapping at your slippery arousal with broad, languid strokes of his tongue, unhurried, as if he were aiming for no particular goal but to enjoy your flavor. “So wet for papi. Qué buena estudiante eres. Good students should be rewarded.”

He finally stood back up to his full height in front of you and removed his pants and underwear, letting them fall around his ankles, and his cock sprang free. You gaped down at it in awe. “Oh god, look at that cock,” you practically drooled. You automatically reached down and started stroking it, babbling on about what a thick, beautiful cock it was. He was too lost in the touch of your fingers wrapped around his shaft to even complain that it wasn’t Spanish.

“Ah, condoms!” he interjected before pushing himself inside you like every muscle in his body was screaming to do. “I’ve got some in the bedroom.”

You chewed your lip, not sure if this would come off the wrong way since he wanted to be responsible, but you slowly said, “We don’t need to use one if you don’t want. I’m on the pill, and I don’t have any STDs.”

His stormy eyes pierced into you, clearly tempted, but he couldn’t help remarking cynically, “If you give me a disease, I swear...”

“I’m afraid I don’t have my medical records on me, so I understand if you don’t want to take my word for it. I don’t know why I’m blindly trusting you.” That was a lie. Everything about Rafael Barba screamed precision, caution, and consent, and even after such a short time knowing him, you were absolutely certain he would never put you at risk. In fact, there was no way he’d ever have unprotected sex with a stranger.

Except his very next words were, “Fuck it,” and he hooked his arm under your elevated leg, and began rubbing his thick cock through your folds, coating it with your slick arousal. “You are absolutely sure you want this?” he looked at you with soft, understanding eyes, checking for any doubts.

You let out a needy whine, rolling your hips to rub your pussy against the tip of his fat cock. “Te quiero,” you whimpered, intending to say you wanted it, but his cheeks reddened and his heart flipped as you said something better translated as I love you.

You wouldn’t realize your mistake until much later, thinking back on it, or understand why his face was suddenly frozen between tenderness and panic, and then dawning realization, relief, and a small, barely noticeable wince of disappointment.

He entered you slowly, letting you feel every inch of stretch from his cock. Like the rest of his build, it was not the longest you had ever seen, but it was impressively girthy, and each blissful inch he worked you open brought the slightest fraying edge of pain. He knew his size could be a challenge, and was practiced at preparing, and patience. You were already so dripping wet, you didn’t need extra lube, though he had it on standby, and watched you carefully, pausing to let you rest every time he advanced. As he waited, feeling your walls relax to accept him, he ducked his head to your breasts, savoring the helpless squeals you made when he gave attention to what he learned was one of your most sensitive erogenous zones. Every time he flicked his tongue over your nipple or sucked its hardened peak into his mouth, your cunt twitched around him and your back arched to take more of him. It worked so well, he never stopped teasing your breasts, and your silent cries of, “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god!” grew in intensity until you were screaming with pleasure, fist clenched in his hair as you held him to your chest, and his balls were pressed tight against your ass.

Panting hard and moaning into your breasts, he began to thrust, slowly at first, but you wrapped your legs around his back and used them as leverage to buck your hips into him, pushing back into each of his thrusts, deepening them and coaxing him to increase his pace. As you angled your hips, he began hitting a deep point inside that made your legs turn to jelly. “Dámelo bien duro,” you tried to say, but it mostly came out as unintelligible gasps and whimpers. His mouth never left your tits and you loved the angle it gave you, being able to watch his face, strained with concentration and clouded with lust, and his tongue working diligently to bring you to a climax that took you off guard with how suddenly it crashed over you. You couldn’t say there was no buildup to it, because you had been in throes since he first pulled down your dress, but he had barely begun to thrust when the heat coiling in your lower back suddenly tightened and snapped, shooting sparks behind your eyelids. “Ah—Rafa!” you wailed, squeezing your fingers in his hair.

He gasped, releasing the globe of your breast from his mouth at the wracking of your body in his arms. Your pussy convulsed, clenching tightly around his cock, coating it in your sweet release, almost too tight for him to thrust through. One more jerk of his hips through your rippling, fluttering muscles and he let out a string of swears, and you felt his abdominal muscles tense up against your belly. He pulled back and thrust into you once more, balls swinging against your ass, and his hot seed flooded you. He panted, trembling, still trying to hold onto you, though halfway sitting on a dining table without knocking off any of the plates was not the most ideal location for post-coital recovery cuddling. He grabbed a few paper napkins from behind you to catch the drippings as he pulled out.

It was over too fast, a testament to how long it had been for him. Both of you, really. But you weren’t disappointed. He made you come almost entirely with that silver tongue of his, and you were still shaking too much to take your weight off the table and put it on your legs.

The timer on the oven rang shrilly, announcing dinner was done.

“After dinner,” he promised, pulling his pants back on. “Quiero más de tu cuerpo.”

You were satisfied, but not yet sated, and looked forward to round two.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

@beccabarba / @caked-crusader / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @da-po / @madamsnape921 / @charlottegrice / @onerestein

#Rafael Barba x Reader #Rafael Barba #Raúl Esparza #rafael barba x female reader #my writing #thatesqcrush kink bingo #thatesqcrush

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ofgentleresolve-a · 3 years

Text

hc set 1: intelligence

i have a lot of headcanons for all my muses, but i never know how to categorize them, so i guess this’ll be a normal thing now. i pick a category and then i talk about how each of my muses relate to it.

mana.

tens, tens, tens across the board!

she was a full-ride scholarship student at her university. got money from her grad program too. she maintained a 4.0 gpa in both programs.

basically she’s super smart. naturally so. although she had to study a lot to keep her gpa the way it was.

wasn’t the valedictorian for her high school though. someone else more well-rounded took that spot.

she was relieved about that too. she didn’t even attend her own high school graduation. almost didn’t attend her college one either if it weren’t for her grandma insisting on attending.

kinda had to be smart though if she wanted to get her and her grandma out of poverty.

grandma taught her well- she has the common sense, the observations, and the logic down.

observant when it comes to understanding others and their intentions ( especially if this person happens to be one calum reynolds )

too bad it can’t be applied to her own emotions. being in tune with herself is going to take a little longer...

intelligences: linguistic, interpersonal, existential

raphael.

you put him in a classroom and he’ll probably fall asleep. lectures are not the way to go. reading books are a little better.

only a little though!

doesn’t like sitting still, really. learns better with his hands. which is again, why cooking is perfect for him.

the kind of person where if you throw him right into the action, he’d probably fare much better than most people. learns well on the fly. by watching and imitating.

he’d be screwed in a traditional education environment probably. discussions would be slightly better than lectures tho

he gets along well with most people!! very upfront about his thoughts and emotions and usually expects other people to be that way too. unlike mana whose intelligence comes from observation, ray’s understanding is instinctive. uses his instincts a lot actually.

has the common sense and practicality tho! he’s lived on his own for long enough to at least seem like a competent adult around other ppl!

intelligences: bodily-kinesthetic, spatial, interpersonal

lamon.

v book smart but not a genius, like mana. he had to study extra hard to get his good grades, even if it was at a detriment to his health.

he liked the learning part of a classroom actually...just not the grades part- which is probably why he ended up back in the classroom as a teacher

ANYWAYS, he can’t write for shit, but he gets math and sciences relatively easily- there’s only one correct answer there ( too bad it doesn’t work like that in real life )

great memory. it’s not exactly a photogenic one, but he’s good at memorizing the details. it’s probably why he likes biology so much- lots of memorizing there

but really he likes biology bc of his fascination with plants and nature in general. he found out early on in college he has a knack for growing plants. two green thumbs!

so he’s prone to overthinking in terms of socializing but you know what that does give him- lots of self awareness. he knows exactly who he is and if he doesn’t like something about himself ( there’s a lot ), he’ll work to change it. he won’t try to be anyone but himself

now all he needs is real life experience....logic and common sense apparently do not overlap as much as he thought

intelligences: logical-mathematical, naturalistic, intra-personal

yoojin.

so maybe he can’t read all that well, even after a thousand years. the monks always berated for him for that

but he listens. he learns best by sound, learns through rhythm and song and stories

a music whiz in a way - loves dancing of any kind and does know how to play a few woodwind instruments. ocarina’s his main choice

very in tune with his body as well- comes with being a dancer but also 1000 years in the same body, you get pretty familiar with what’s going on there.

kid’s pretty observant too. people just don’t realize he’s listening carefully and considering how to act when he acts like an sugar high ten year old. he uses a combination of empathy, observation, and instinct

as the most emotionally stable one of my muses, it’s safe to say he knows himself pretty well. doesn’t let himself be constrained by societal expectations.

he’s a jack-of-all-trades really, outside of books; full of surprises this one although i suppose that comes with being alive for a millennium...

intelligences: musical, bodily-kinesthetic, interpersonal, intrapersonal

#can't help loving others ( headcanons. )#( headcanons: yoojin. )#( headcanons: lamon. )#( headcanons: mana. )#( headcanons: raphael. )#that was fun!!#if anyone ever wants to give me a topic to do for all mi muses #i'll take them :D

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canttelliotte-blog · 3 years

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Incredibly long, overly detailed post I spent too much time on.

Tl:dr AITA for telling someone they were coming off as an ungrateful, privileged asshole who didn't seem to recognize or truly appreciate what they have? I blew up after a series of encounters, they seemed oblivious to their lifestyle and support and how truly different life could have turned out without it. I called them out after weeks of trying to be empathetic but couldn't take how helpless they were acting when I would kill for the kind the support they were complaining about and taking for granted.

I should use a throwaway because I know this person will probably see this but I don't have the energy. I'll try to keep this short (actually super long sorry) I feel like I already know I was sort of harsh and out of line. This whole thing has just been sticking with me and I feel really messed up about it.

Alright, so context, back story. I had a breakdown in February and tried to kill myself. By some miracle, I got a bed at one of the best mental hospitals on this side of the east coast. After a long history of chronic mental illness, being on disability for years with medicare, getting an opportunity like this was amazing. I had been on waiting lists for months before my attempt, but fate, acuity, and availability all lined up. A true miracle. Unless you have a family with money or amazing health insurance, getting a bed is just extremely difficult at this particular facility.

The reason being, they provide real treatment. Comprehensive, attentive, life-saving treatment. They actually provide real care with empathy, actual therapy, psychiatry, and groups, with educated staff, real food to eat, world-renowned providers, and treatment teams that listen and work with you to come up with effective long-term solutions/aftercare plans that set you up for long term success.

Out of pocket, this place is unfathomably expensive. The more exclusive programs on-campus are for the ultra-elite/ ultra-wealthy, taking celebrities like Selena Gomez. The institution itself is known for its education and research. It is not funded by the state like almost everywhere else. Most state-run facilities are atrocious. a disgusting holding cell, where you're stripped of your clothes, dignity, and rights, fed prison food, overmedicated, physically and chemically restrained, only to be thrown back on the street in 3-5 days with no aftercare, med refills, or plan. Been there, done that, many times, not the point. The point was, I got some really helpful expensive ass treatment by the luck of the draw.

While I was there, I met someone lovely. We instantly connected and expressed interest in one another. They seemed really cool, we talked at length about income inequality and how unfair it was that this kind of treatment wasn't the norm or easily accessible and how unfair that was. They seemed passionate and bright and we got along great. They were set to discharge only a few days after I got there, so we exchanged info before they left. We talked a bunch while I was still there (my discharge was a couple of weeks later) and decided to go on a few dates after I got out.

A few days after I got out, I unintendedly overdosed, confused about my meds, and was incoherent by the time I got to the ER. I was restrained and chemically sedated. I was confused and fought so was deemed severely acute, and got sent to a state-run facility similar to what I described above. It was all very traumatic and I shut down once I got home. I was lucky I made it out semi-okay, that they let me out at all.

I wasn't replying to anyone's messages but the person I had met kept reaching out wanting to hear from me and make sure I was okay. I was embarrassed but it was really sweet and soon we starting talking a lot again and really connecting.

As I got to know them, I definitely thought they were very cool, we seemed to have a lot in common, they made me laugh and we got along really well. I was really digging them and saw us potentially becoming a thing. After talking for some time, we decided to anxiously have our first date. It went okay but something was off.

I didn't really pick up on it at first but the more we talked, the more privileged they offhandedly revealed they were. I know it's judge-y and lame, but that kind of put me off. I've been poor my whole life and struggled hard for everything, it's a whole different world living in poverty, so it made me a bit uncomfortable. I still live in poverty, on disability, with food stamps, and can barely hold it together enough to have a part-time job, but I have no choice. It's rough. I've been homeless, lived in institutions, went through foster care, and have no familial support. I have one of the most serious debilitating mental illnesses. It's been very very hard.

I am biased but I haven't met anyone well off who gets it. Some people don't realize how hard things can be when you've really had nothing, and had to work hard for everything. Even simple things are taken for granted, not understood, or there are miscommunications or assumptions made due to the lack of understanding. That's just my personal experience, it's hard trying to explain things and it's invalidating sometimes, it can be hard to relate or connect due to the lack of understanding.

Honestly, though, it took me by surprise. We had both talked passionately about the struggles of being on disability, the importance of income inequality, how unfair the system is set up, the barriers against the poor receiving adequate mental health treatment. They explained how they advocated for social justice and regularly went to protests. I felt dumb because I did meet them at higher-end facility, but I assumed they ended up there by dumb luck as I did with how they presented and initially came across.

They made it seem like we were in the same boat, poor af, chronically mentally ill, and 4 ever struggling. It was just a surprise because that was very much was not the case.

They moved up here from Florida, (where admittedly their life was much harder and different), but since moving, they were being supported by their aunt and uncle, who were very, very well off. They had a very expensive private practice psychiatrist, multiple treatment providers, and an apartment in a very well-off area, that their aunt owned, so they paid no rent. Their car/insurance/phone everything was paid for.

They seemed to have money to burn, dancing around being well taken care of and not really having to worry. They were on disability though receiving payments and food stamps in addition, not reporting the assistance from their family. When I lightly inquired, they said their grandmother mostly controlled their finances and they didn't deal with bills etc. They spent freely, getting take out almost every night, etc. enjoying all the pleasure of life without a second thought.

I was uncomfortable with this like I said, but they did seem cool and understanding, we did get along and I wanted to give them a chance. I put my biased experience aside and tried to give it a go.

First example that really blew me away was their dog. They had several animals, including a cat and two dogs. Even for someone working, three animals is a huge expense. I only have one cat and while she's my world, it gets hard sometimes. The vet is expensive, litter, food, treats, it adds up. And she's only one animal!!! I provide for her and take care of her, but a $350 vet bill still packs a punch. Of course, I pay it, she's my baby, but it might mean only eating sandwiches for a few weeks. I love her, so I sacrifice, she is worth it in every way, but animals are expensive and a lot of work/responsibility.

When this person and I first started seriously talking, they mentioned the dog they were closest to was very sick with a rare condition. I don't know the full details, but I guess it took a while for the vet to figure out what was wrong, he was on a lot of medications, needed loads of tests and scans. There were weeks of extensive treatments/ blood transfusions, all in a long, painful, and strenuous attempt to save him. They tried for a long time in the hopes he would get better.

He, unfortunately, passed away a few weeks after we started talking. It was devastating to them and I tried my best to be supportive and help them grieve. They were understandably at a huge loss. Their mental health tanked. Their dog meant the world to them, I understand that completely. Pets are family.

A few weeks after he passed. They were talking a little about the course of treatment and how hard it had been and what a long, painful road it was. They kind of casually remarked that his treatment cost over $20,000.

I honestly thought I had misheard. I had to ask twice because I thought they meant $2,000. No. $20,000. $20,000.Holy shit.

I just...$20,000 is what I make in a year. A year. Dogs are family, I totally, totally get that. People will do anything to save their loved ones. A pet is like an uninsured child, even with pet insurance, it can be expensive. I get that. If you have that kind of money, you pay it, without a thought, no problem.

I just... wow. I still couldn't even wrap my mind around it. My cat is my world but it breaks my heart to say, if anything happened to her like that, it would kill me, but I would be forced to put her down. I just couldn't believe, $20,000. And they said it like, no big deal, of course, like anyone would/could afford that, it was obvious, a no-brainer. I just...wow.

Next, kicker. I  came over to hang out one night and watch movies. I had never been to their apartment before. They claimed it had been super messy and they made a big deal about how they had cleaned for me. Sweet, but unnecessary, I get mental illness is tough. It was two bedrooms, all to themselves, decent space and light, but definitely scattered and cluttered. They had a huge king-sized bed, a bidet in the bathroom, and a super nice living room set up. Big comfy couch, loads of nice blankets, and honestly the biggest tv I had ever seen. They joking bragged about having all the streaming options. No kidding. Hulu, Disney plus, Netflix, Amazon, HBO, Paramount, and at least half a dozen more I hadn't even heard of. It just seemed crazy and excessive paying for that many streaming services every month.  But to each their own I guess.

We were both huge fans of anime, and they sort of decided to venture to studio ghibli. They asked if I had seen a particular favorite of theirs. I hadn't. They searched and it was only available to rent. $17. I nearly had a heart attack. I was like no way, we could definitely find it streaming for free somewhere if we look, or watch something else, shortage of options. They were like no it's no biggie that's what I want to watch and clicked rent. Like no problem *sweats intensely* Anytime I spend money, I have a heart attack and second guess it, it takes me like 10 minutes to click buy and my heart always drops when I do. I overthink, whether I really need/deserve it/whether there's a cheaper option, or if it's truly necessary. I know that's a poverty thing. It's just like we could have easily found it somewhere for free with a little effort!

We go to order food, we both have celiac so finding takeout is a chore. They knew the area better so I was trusting them. They were very adamant about ordering expensive sushi. It was $36 for just one of the things they wanted. Not including delivery or tips or fees or anything else, which included appetizers and drinks, the whole nine. I wasn't feeling sushi. They were like fine, we'll order from two separate places then. Double the delivery fee, not something I ever do, it would be cheaper finding a place together, I could get something small and affordable but they wouldn't budge. I didn't really have money to order a big thing on my own, I wanted something small, but I felt pressured. I figured anything I got would be cheaper than having to split a big sushi order I didn't want. I was like okay fine.

They kind of seemed annoyed that I didn't just give in and get sushi. They were a little short with me, didn't give me many options of other places, and were weirdly controlling, not letting me look at their phone to find something. I kind of gave up and said like just a burger is fine. I figured it would be cheap and filling, probably $20 max. I didn't take into consideration that they live in an extremely expensive area. It ended up being almost $30, plus tip. For a burger. I almost wanted to cry. I would have picked somewhere else cheaper given the option. They didn't even tell me the price until after they ordered it. I was like oh how much like $15 and they were so casual like oh no, $30 with tip. When it arrived, it was cold and disgusting, really inedible. I picked at the fries, which gave me a stomach ache as they were not gluten-free friendly and had been cross-contaminated in the fryer. I assumed they picked a place that they knew was safe.

When I wasn't eating, they asked if it was bad. I said yeah and they were like oh well just order something else. Like no, I can't afford anything else, it doesn't work like that. I was like no it's fine I'm not really that hungry. I wanted to say, I trusted you, and you kinda fucked me. I guess they picked that place because there was a gluten-free brownie sundae (prepackaged and not cross-contaminated) on the menu that they really wanted. Obviously more important.

My stomach ached all night. They ate their food happily. No big deal to them, $30 wasted on food I didn't really want, that I couldn't end up eating and got me sick. If it were them, they would have just ordered something else. No big deal to them. It was more important they got their brownie sundae and expensive sushi than making sure I was able to get something edible. Didn't matter that was half my grocery money for the week. Bologna sandwiches it'll have to be then. Awesome.

We spent the night talking, I didn't let on to how sick I was or that I was upset about not being able to choose food. They picked all the movies. I wanted to go home, but it just got later and later, one more movie I just *needed* to see. I asked them several times as the clock was ticking if it was getting too late to drive me home. No, no they were fine. Let's just watch another one. Then casually, they went to their room and brought out their night meds, threw 'em back, and settled into the couch. I started to panic. I asked again, you're taking me home, right? I guess they decided they weren't. I was miles away from home, no public transit running or close by. They were like oh I'm so tired, it got so late. Just order a car. I pulled up uber, $25. That would definitely overdraft my account.

Thankfully, after they saw me sweating and looking panicked, they were like, oh, I feel so bad, I'll order the uber for you. (If they hadn’t, I would have had to explain like, getting home on my own wasn't the plan nor was staying the night. If they thought I would be cool with just staying, they should have said something, if they wanted me to stay, it should have been a discussion, not a surprise.)

I just felt really disrespected. I was simultaneously hungry and sick from dinner, broke and unprepared to stay over with no prior discussion. I didn't have meds, my cat didn't have food out, I was blindsided and essentially stranded/put in an awkward position. They didn't consider that it might be stressful or beyond my limitations to get home. Being able to just roll with punches isn't financially feasible for everyone. It just felt like they were self-centered and inconsiderate. The whole night was what they wanted, what they wanted to eat, where they wanted to order from, what they wanted to watch, changing plans to what was convenient for them without any regard toward how it might impact me. Just inconsiderate and self-centered behavior.

We did keep talking though, I just sort of chalked it up to miscommunication and sort of beat myself up for not speaking up. It was weird though, kept just casually mentioning shit that was so privileged and complaining about shit that made them sound so ungrateful. I don't think they realized how it came across, just completely oblivious to their access to resources and not appreciating their position or supports.

They started talking about starting ketamine treatments to combat their ongoing depression. They had received them in the past and went on about how life-changing and helpful it was, and that everyone should try it. Now, being on disability (and even with most insurances) the treatments are not covered. The clinics that administer them are all out of pocket, bougie as fuck, and extremely expensive.

They talked about having several rounds in the past like it was nothing. It's easily $250-400 a pop and they were going 1-2x a week for a long time. They kept talking about all their options like what a painstaking burden. Should they start with lozenges and work up to IV clinic or ask for patches, and start that way. They wanted to work up to twice a week again but their family was giving pushback. They wanted me to agree with them, saying it was so unfair and lame and unreasonable/closeminded of their family for not immediately agreeing. The same family that would be footing the bill. No, not unfair or unreasonable at all. You sound privileged as fuck.

I was super bothered they were endlessly going on about it and complaining about pushback and asking me to agree with them. My treatment-resistant depression hasn't responded to anything, I've been on every waiting list for MDMA-assisted treatment whenever they pop up but never been selected due to demand and availability. Even ECT is too expensive and not covered. I'd kill for an opportunity like that! And it wasn't even like their family was saying no, they were discussing it in family therapy and seriously considering it.

They talked about it so nonchalantly and kept going on and on about how amazing it was. Like great, tell me all about something else I'll never be able to afford. I'm sure Paris is great, and backpacking across Europe is awesome, like please do tell me more.

I finally mentioned like okay that sounds great, will never able to afford it, glad it's so helpful They told me that I could just buy it off the street. That's what they used to do occasionally. It's only a couple hundred dollars and you get way more. Like oh okay. Let me just not pay a third of my rent in the hopes that this jam band kids ketamine isn't fentanyl or some shit and maybe have a shot at not wanting to kill myself for a week, you know on the off chance it works. Sounds great, super safe, much more affordable. And like as ridiculous as it was to offer that as an alternative, that still wouldn't be something I could afford! They just came off so clueless and privileged and oblivious.

What really got me was how they eventually talked about their family. They did weekly family therapy with their aunt and uncle and occasionally their dad since moving up here. They stayed with their aunt and uncle (lived down the street) more often than not so they weren't alone. This was encouraged/appreciated/welcomed. They did activities together regularly to help with depression and loneliness/ managing symptoms. They had their grandma and brother, whom they saw often and cherished greatly. They portrayed the relationships as really solid and important. I thought wow, truly wholesome and wonderful. They seemed so loved, close, connected, cared for, and supported. Across the board, they had support.

But then tables would turn. They complained often their family was too close, too conservative, and not understanding. They didn't want them so involved in their life, their treatment, decision-making, and recovery process. They resented the support, complained they weren't a kid and were capable/in sound mind to make decisions/have control of their life. I tried to listen and be understanding but I didn't get it. They came off almost like a spoiled, ungrateful teenager.

You're getting help, love, and support all around, everyone wants to support you and see you do well and will give whatever that takes. Like legitimately whatever ?!? You don't have to work, pay for anything, and it is made sure you don't have to struggle for anything. Anything you need, you've got.

I get the concept that having family so close/involved could be crippling or invasive or just downright unproductive. But it was such a slap in the face they would complain to me of all people about having that kind of support.

Family/support is such a foreign concept to me personally. Like I said, I grew up in foster care. I've never had family involved, healthy relationships, or any sort of support like that. The concept of calling your aunt when you're sad and she offers kind words, support, and tells you to come over to do something fun? Like, can't relate. I could only take so much of them complaining about being taken care of.

Living with extreme mental illness, not being able to work for periods of time, living solely on disability paychecks and food stamps is damn is impossible to survive, especially where we live. Without the help they were being given, they wouldn't be able to survive. The cost of living is out of control, you can't even rent a room with a single disability payment. I know, I'm doing it. It takes everything for me to keep a part-time job, barely making enough to make ends meet. But if I don't. I'm homeless again. No matter what, no matter how bad symptoms get. And I have one of the hardest, most debilitating mental illnesses. I don't have any other choice.

Their aunt would pay for them to go to school or learn a trade or anything they wanted. They have a world-renowned private practice doctor that prescribes them literally anything they could want or need to help and they have a great bond/ working relationship. I have a psych who can barely remember my name and sees me for 5-15 minutes maybe once or twice a month. I was asking for medications recently to get through a hard time, nothing serious, but my state-assigned psych does not prescribe benzos. Period. Neither does my PCP. It's state rehab or psych facility for me or bust. Another thing they take for granted. They almost bragged to me about immediately getting two heavy-duty benzos and another maintenance medication, just by saying their panic attacks were slighting increasing. Meanwhile. I was at risk for DT's after relapsing and begging for basic Librium to maybe not die and was denied.

The real reality of being on disability is the bare minimum or bad treatment. My psychologist is thankfully amazing but it took 10 years and hitting absolute rock bottom and being homeless to find her. She's a diamond in the rough but only works with the sickest of the sick. I would be in a state institution right now if it weren't for her and I avoided it by the skin of my teeth.

So here's where I'm probably the asshole. After weeks, I broke. We were texting as usual and they started to sort of mope and complain. They were venting about having a hard time again and how symptoms were bad and there was just nothing they could do and it was so hard. They started going on about how helpless they were and how there was no opportunity to get better and everything was just super hard and impossible for them and how rough they had it. Their family was checking in on them too much and they were annoyed at them for being concerned and that they had no options and no chance and everything was just so hard and impossible.

I understand, that's depression. I'm pretty empathetic and understanding and have been up to this point but it just felt like the rich person complaining to the homeless guy sleeping on the street, how awful it was they forgot their umbrella that day, and how unfortunate it was to be getting wet. I just wanted to scream. If you're anxious take your benzos, take your other meds! Call your aunt. Text your on call therapist. Call your fancy psych who answers night and day. Utilize any of the resources you have and all the support you are given!

I was just tired of it. Things in my life have been super difficult, especially lately, and I have to figure it out alone. The voices were getting loud again which lead to a bad relapse that went off the rails, which I had to pull out of completely unassisted. I am in between jobs, my housing isn't stable, my bank accounts are low, my mental health is chronic and very severe, my treatment team was threatening to section me if I didn't reel it in. Things were bad. But I deal with it, alone.

I know it was wrong of me, but I couldn't take it. They have everything to help themselves!!! They could go to a fancy hospital, they could ask all their supports for help! They would receive the best care. All the medicines, the best treatment. Anything.

I basically kind of spelled it out for them. You have privilege, you have support, you have money, resources, a great treatment team, family, everything... please for the love of God, USE IT! You wouldn't have to worry about losing your job going into treatment, you wouldn't lose your housing. You wouldn't have to worry about falling behind on bills. You'd be fine.

How can you not see or appreciate all you have and or see how oblivious and privileged you come across and how hurtful that is? You're complaining to the wrong person.

I went on a bit too long. I was definitely coming from a place of hurt, mental illness, and jealousy. I wasn't trying to make them feel bad, I just wanted them to understand. That kind of support would make all the difference for so many that are struggling. They are sitting with gallons of water around them, complaining to be inconsolably parched and that don't know what to do, all while sort of offhandedly bragging about how much water they have and how they can easily get more. I've been carefully conserving a 16 oz Poland spring bottle, rationing for weeks not knowing if/when I will be able to refill. They aren't alone, expected to make it on just disability. They weren't recognizing their position, how they were coming across, how hurtful that was. I didn't get anyone to catch me, love me, support me. This is the real reality of living with extreme mental illness on disability looks like without that opportunity or support. This is hard fucking work. We are not the same. You got lucky. Now do something with it.

They ended up calling me a dick, saying I didn't understand, that I was being cruel and mean for no reason. We haven't talked since. I do feel bad, I just couldn't take it anymore.

So if you made it this far, lay it on me, AITA?

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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961

What was the most unsettling film you’ve seen? Unsettling films are my jam, man. To name a few, there’s Eraserhead, Room, Midsommar, Eyes Wide Shut, Misery, and most recently, I’m Thinking of Ending Things. Eraserhead takes the cake though. That movie always makes me queasy...

What unethical experiment would have the biggest positive impact on society as a whole? I’m a firm believer in nothing good ever comes out of unethical practices. I’ll never forget reading about an experiment where a group of newborn babies were given basic needs like food and being bathed, but weren’t shown any affection whatsoever and it was meant to see if humans can survive with just the most basic physiological needs. By the end of the experiment period half of the babies were dead. The results were honestly a lot bleaker than how I’ve put it, but I don’t wanna be a downer lol. Suffice it to say that experiment haunted me for days after reading it.

When was the last time you were snooping, and found something you wish you hadn’t? It was around a week or so ago, I’m pretty sure.

Which celebrity or band has the worst fan base? My sister is into K-pop and I hear insights from her all the time, but her one constant is that BTS breeds the most annoying, toxic fans. I’d have to agree. Ariana Grande’s fandom was also annoying at one point, but I haven’t heard much from them making a mess these days.

What are you interested in that most people aren’t? Autobiographies.

If you were given a PhD degree, but had no more knowledge of the subject of the degree besides what you have now, what degree would you want to be given to you? Why would I deserve a PhD on something I’m clearly not qualified for...I’m not sure I’m following this question right, but I don’t feel like thinking too hard about it.

What smartphone feature would you actually be excited for a company to implement? I’m happy with the features that are widespread now, but I wish companies adhere more to countries other than the common ones like US, UK, Australia, etc. I always see ads about phones being able to tell you how much movie tickets cost or track boarding passes, but those are all irrelevant here. It makes a lot of Apple’s basic apps useless on this side of the world haha.

What’s something people don’t worry about but really should? Long-term effects of poor habits like not getting enough sleep or drinking too many cups of coffee. I know because I’m guilty of this.

What movie quotes do you use on a regular basis? ��I won’t think about that now, I’ll think about it tomorrow,” but I usually say it to myself, especially when I feel stressed.

Do you think that children born today will have better or worse lives than their parents? Better, but idk if that’s just me being biased because my generation will be the next parents lol. I just think that a lot of Gen X parents still have a lot of dated prejudices and mindsets that my generation was able to learn better from. For example my mom doesn’t like using people’s preferred names, especially if they’ve transitioned -_____- and I know I’d never want to set such an example for my kids.

What’s the funniest joke you know by heart? I know I’ve come across hilarious ones but I always fail to come up with one when asked on the spot.

When was the last time you felt you had a new lease on life? LOL RIGHT NOW

What’s the funniest actual name you’ve heard of someone having? It’s more stupid than funny and I know I’ve already mentioned this before, but Covid Bryant as a first and second name still takes the cake for me. My sister went to school with a girl whose name is just her surname backwards, and for a time I was really weirded out by it. But in the times I’ve seen her she really owns her name and never looks bothered by it, so I quickly stopped caring.

Which charity or charitable cause is most deserving of money? For me it would have to be organizations for animal welfare.

What TV show character would it be the most fun to change places with for a week? Post-El Camino Jesse Pinkman. I wouldn’t want to live through his chaotic shit from Breaking Bad, but his fate after El Camino is something I’m super envious of.

What was cool when you were young but isn’t cool now? Flip phones, Blackberry phones, Roshes, Frappuccinos.

If you were moving to another country, but could only pack one carry-on sized bag, what would you pack? Phone, laptop, their chargers, important IDs, some of my favorite tops and jeans, underwear, essential toiletries, wallet, a family photo, a journal and pen, earphones, certain knickknacks to remember Gab and my dogs by. Minus the clothes, all of these are pretty tiny so I think these would all fit in the bag just fine.

What’s the most ironic thing you’ve seen happen? I don’t know. I’m not really a fan of rating the most/worst this and that stuff in my life, either. I feel like I unnecessarily rack my brain too hard for them when I take surveys to have a chill time.

If magic was real, what spell would you try to learn first? Probably something that’d keep my dogs from dying.

If you were a ghost and could possess people, what would you make them do? No thanks. I’d be the chillest ghost tbh, I’d like to just sneak up on people’s business and hang out but never interfere in them.

What goal do you think humanity is not focused enough on achieving? Climate change, global warming, alleviation of poverty. Corporations and the few people who actually have the power and money to change things only ever come up with short-term shit like donations and never look at the big picture. What problem are you currently grappling with? So many personal ones. But just like the recurring theme of my surveys so far, “I don’t want to get into it.”

What character in a movie could have been great, but the actor they cast didn’t fit the role? As much as I love Kristen Stewart, I heard she was cast as Princess Diana for an upcoming film and I’m not really feeling that decision. They could’ve gone with a British actress for starters?????? The movie is still in production but it is pretty annoying to think about lmao.

What game have you spent the most hours playing? Probably GTA: San Andreas as a kid.

What’s the most comfortable bed or chair you’ve ever been in? Luxury hotel beds are always so fluffy and comfortable.

What’s the craziest conversation you’ve overheard? Omg one time at a coffee shop Gabie and I sat beside this older couple that obviously was going through some heavy SHIT. There was a lot of animosity and tension between them and I caught the lady silently break into tears a few times. I never overheard anything but then again they sat in silence for hours until the lady finally walked out on him. Never knew what it was about but I’ve always guessed that the man did something crappy, like cheat, and was discovered. It was a really sad sight and a crazy situation to witness and I think I felt even more sorry because they were obviously in their 50s or 60s. I hope the woman is in a better place now as she looked rough as fuck that evening.

What’s the hardest you’ve ever worked? I wore a lot of hats when I was in my college org, and that was on top of balancing my acads as well.

What movie, picture, or video always makes you laugh no matter how often you watch it? That scene from Friends where Ross plays the keyboard for Chandler, Phoebe, Monica, and Rachel.

What artist or band do you always recommend when someone asks for a music recommendation? It depends on what music they’re into and if I have actually have a recommendation in mind for them. I obviously can’t suggest Paramore to someone who mainly listens to metal.

If you could have an all-expenses paid trip to see any famous world monument, which monument would you choose? I’m down for any monuments that are super ancient like Stonehenge or the Pyramids of Giza.

If animals could talk, which animal would be the most annoying? I’d go with frogs, but only because they get annoyingly loud in the evening.

What’s the most addicted to a game you’ve ever been? Playing The Sims, Mario Kart, Rock Band, or games in the Burnout franchise.

What’s the coldest you’ve ever been? Japan was so fucking cold when I was there. Didn’t do my research and ended up being dressed poorly, and I was so cold I could barely talk to my parents or fully enjoy my time. Sagada was also nearly unbearable in the early morning.

Which protagonist from a book or movie would make the worst roommate? Not from a book or movie, but BoJack Horseman. Diane can also be in the running as I always found her too whiny. I get that she had her personal shit to deal with, but I don’t think living with her would be good for my own sanity and mental health.

Do you eat food that’s past its expiration date if it still smells and looks fine? It annoys my chef dad to death that I don’t lol. No matter how great it looks, I’d bounce. I once ate expired Kit Kats that tasted like cardboard and that scared me off of expired food forever.

What’s the most ridiculous thing you have bought? I once bought a stupid novelty soap that to this day I’ve never even opened. It’s in one of my drawers, and I plan to just throw it out at some point.

What’s the funniest comedy skit you’ve seen? Not a fan of these but one that got to me is Dear Sister from SNL.

What’s the most depressing meal you’ve eaten? A few years ago there was a local breakfast place that offered red velvet pancakes for a limited time and I was all over that crap, so I went and ordered. The actual pancakes ended up not being any bigger than my palm, and I remember not being able to hide my disappointment once the server placed the dish on my table haha. I felt so scammed. I had to order something else to feel full, because those pancakes were stupidly small.

What tips or tricks have you picked up from your job/jobs? One of my superiors, when she was presenting a pitch to our director yesterday, kept asking questions and picking at the director’s brain so that she can get suggestions and answers straight from the director herself and so that she didn’t have to do any brainstorming anymore. I thought that was a pretty nifty and clever hack.

What outdoor activity haven’t you tried, but would like to? Hiking a mountain!

What songs hit you with a wave of nostalgia every time you hear them? Umbrella by Rihanna feat. Jay-Z.

What’s the worst backhanded compliment you could give someone? Idk, anything can be the worst depending on the context. I’m not a fan of giving those, though.

What’s the most interesting documentary you’ve ever watched? Unsolved Mysteries’ Dupont de Ligonnès episode was a lot of fun to watch.

What was the last song you sang along to? I think it was Thinking of You by Katy Perry? but I’m not entirely sure. I haven’t sung along to anything in a while.

What app can you not believe someone hasn’t made yet? I don’t really download and use a lot of apps other than the basic ones, so I don’t care too much.

When was the last time you face palmed? Last night.

If you were given five million dollars to open a small museum, what kind of museum would you create? I’d give it away to the Martial Law museum currently being made near my university so that it can do more to show the atrocities of the Marcoses. And so that I can piss off my pro-Marcos relatives.

Which of your vices or bad habits would be the hardest to give up? Uh hating myself, if that counts.

What really needs to be modernized? Public transportation systems in this country.

#survey #surveys

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thesnadger · 5 years

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Speaking of finance! I was going thru your mp100 tag and your post about his character in relation to small business/freelance work caught me. I was hoping you could expand on that? I know it’s a sore point for fans about Mob’s less that minimum wage and that there could be some personal feelings involved in that negativity towards Reigen...but I found it interesting he rented space and started a business. And he didn’t worry about the money but more about how he was bored before meeting Mob???

Haha okay well look. Reigen should really give Mob a raise, you’re not gonna hear me say otherwise about that. Don’t think at any point I’m going to say that low profits are ever an excuse to underpay your employees.

(We all know the real benefit Mob gets from the job is the time he spends with Reigen anyway, not the shitty, shitty pay he gets.)

With that in mind, no, I don’t think the Spirits and Such Consultation Office brings in much money. I don’t think Reigen is living in abject poverty, but he’s probably just doing okay at best. Some months are better than others, but he can’t really be complacent. We see evidence of this everywhere. He cuts corners with expenses by asking a client to pay for his taxi then taking a train and has visible cup noodle packages in the frame. He accepted vegetable seeds as payment, for crying out loud. This man is desperate for whatever he can get.

It extends to his character design! We can see that his suit doesn’t quite fit him, it wrinkles and bunches up in places and was probably bought secondhand, made for someone bigger than him.

He can pay the rent on his office and apartment and obviously keeps his insurance up to date, but god as a freelancer I can relate to both his anxiety when the work slows down and his intense desire to take in as many clients as possible when it picks up. I don’t think he has a ton of savings, and even the criminally low wage he pays Mob probably adds up to a significant expense for him (those bowls of ramen aren’t free either.) I don’t know if he actually could pay Mob a remotely fair wage with what he makes. (At least for most of the series.)

Again, low profits aren’t an excuse to underpay your employees but it makes Reigen a lot more sympathetic when he’s struggling than he’d be if he were making bank and still giving Mob 300 yen an hour.

(More Reigenomics under the cut.)

When we meet Shinra in the Urban Legends storyline we also see how much Reigen undercharges for his services compared to other professional psychics. I’ve joked that the real reason professional psychics hate him isn’t because he’s a fraud, it’s because he’s ruining the market with his low prices.

I’m sure he does it for his own reasons. One of them is probably the reason most people undercharge – he’s worried that if he raises his prices he won’t get enough work to get by. (Note: PLEASE DON’T DO THIS, THIS IS A BAD FREELANCING PRACTICE THAT NOT ONLY RUINS THE MARKET IT GENUINELY DOESN’T WORK.) The other reason is Reigen knows he’s a fraud and probably has reason to think anyone looking to expose fake psychics will target the ones whose prices are high, who really really rip people off.

Honestly. Reigen probably made a lot more money in his soul-crushing office job. You mentioned him renting the office at the start of his career, and I have thoughts on that too.

See. Reigen is a very hard worker, he has a lot of basic business sense and common sense, and is very good with people. I think he has the skills necessary to really do well in a white collar office job. When he quit, I think he had at least a somewhat promising potential career and a little bit of money saved up (he’d have had to if he rented an office before even knowing what his business would be about, right?)

“I used to be so curious and energetic about everything, but at some point that stopped” is such a relatable quarter-life crisis feel and it takes genuine courage to walk away from a steady, predictable job to try making it on your own with no real plan. I really applaud him for that.

So, he sat in his office for a while trying to think of something while most of his savings began to dwindle, then came up with the idea of being a fake psychic and got some clients. He was doing okay, not making anything amazing but he was able to pay his bills. But yeah, he was getting bored. The whole reason he’d left his depressing but dependable office job was to find something that was more interesting, that would give his work excitement and meaning. But at least as his own boss he could stop this and do something else.

And then Mob walked through his door, and after that being a fake psychic had excitement and meaning and he never looked back.

tl;dr, Reigen could always go back to a shitty office job and make better money but he’s not going to ever ever ever being a fake psychic mentor to a precious good esper boy is the best thing that ever happened to him.

#hey how'd you guys like that reigenomics pun #you like that?#mmm yeah #reigen arataka #mp100 #also guys the episode title wasn’t Middle Class Lonely Whitey #Anonymous

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oh-my-god-maurice-the-ladybug · 4 years

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GUys

So I wrote this fan theory in class a couple days ago, for MHA.

It’s a ligit (?) essay, and also my first one. As it is my first, I might not have worded or phrased or sentenced it correctly, so if it doesn’t make sense I apalogise.

Also, it’s just a theory, so please don’t claim it’s cannon unless it’s a headcannon or something

Tagging @imasleepdeprivedtransboy because yeah. If you want to be tagged in the future (?) for things like this please ask, I won’t know unless you do.

(pssst, it’s under the blue line)

In the universe of MHA, quirks are theorized to have been caused by a virus caused by mice, causing some sort of reaction within human DNA to cause a mutation, leading to superpower-like abilities. This, while an entirely fictional event for a fictional universe, is strikingly similar to the 1350 even known as the Black Plague, which was spread by ship rats, who carried fleas that held the deadly virus, which could have likely caused a similar event earlier in the MHA timeline. While this is a completely pointless and unproductive endeavor, in this essay I will prove to you that the event that kickstarted quirks was not the first of its kind in the MHA universe.

First, we must establish the timeline of events that I am working off of to establish my theory, the timeline starting in 1348, at the start of the Black Plague’s outbreak. The Plague is known to have spread along trade routes from China, ending up in southern England, reaching northern England in 1350. During the rapid spread of this plague, 4 million people died. The plague also resurfaced again, the dates being 1361 through 1363, 1369 (nice) through 1371, 1374 through 1375, 1390, and 1400. This gives enough time for a gene to develop, or perhaps resurface, which could contribute to superhuman powers. However, in 1450, we have the start of the “witch hunts” (which lasted through 1750 with quite a bit of buildup before this), caused by a number of factors, including poverty, a lack of education, social crisis of the time, and various epidemics. During this time, around 40,000-50,000 people died, although the actual number was probably never documented. Many gruesome practices emerged during these witch hunts, including, but not at all limited too, Sleep Deprivation, Water Torture, Pricking and Scratching, and Pressing. There were also people who profited off the witch hunts, doing things like charging for exorcisms and selling the body parts of the deceased (gross, I know). Then we go on, with a couple more outbreaks of the plague documented in various places, spanning until the start of the series, of which the exact date is not disclosed.

Now, it’s known that humans do have the ability to mutate, and there are two major types of mutations, Hereditary, or mutations that are received from the parent and are present throughout the entirety of a person’s life and body, and Acquired, or mutations that appear some time during a person’s lifetime and are only present in certain cells of the body. Although there will be some focus on Acquired mutations, we will mostly be focusing on Hereditary, as it is more relevant to my point here today. Hereditary mutations, also known as germline mutations, are created when a mutation occurs while both the parent’s DNA are mixing, causing a mutation in the unborn child, which remains present in each of their cells. Examples of this include hemochromatosis, a hereditary disorder in which iron salts are deposited in the tissues, leading to liver damage, severe diabetes, and bronze discoloration of the skin, and cystic fibrosis, a disease caused by viscous mucus clogging up pancreatic ducts and bronchi. While these may not seem like really great examples of this type of mutation, please remember that these are only two examples and that they were at the top of my google search page, so there could be good ones out there if I had bothered to do ten more minutes of research.

So, if we take this into consideration, a Hereditary gene mutation that passes down from parent to child doesn’t seem that far off, because it’s already a reality for those of us who live in the real, actual world. Since MHA is very science fictional with how it goes about it’s hero-ing and plot in general, I am going to safely assume right here and now that it would be very, very easy to apply this real, actual layer of fact to an otherwise fictional universe.

Anyway, the rest of this theory will revolve on the idea that quirks are a type of hereditary mutation, which matches up with the in-text context clues given, being that quirks apparently are passed down in a family, that quirks are different from person to person (like genes, with a few exceptions), and that they seem to mix under certain circumstances. They can act like Acquired genes, for sure, but they still count as hereditary because, even if they pop up later in life, they are still inherited by the parents as dormant genes.

So, going back to the Black Plague, we can see the parallels between it and the unnamed illness that is credited with kickstarting quirks in MHA. First off, the two were both spread by a member of the Rodentia order, as both mice and rats are classified in this category, and, although we don’t know what the illness was or how it spread, we can probably assume the order in MHA started out with fleas or ticks and was spread by some form of bite, as we see in the Plague, which was spread by the fleas on the infected rats. They also, even though this is a stretch, probably killed a lot of people, and in the case of the Black Plague actually killed a lot of people, because no one would really notice a “plague” or “new illness” or even try and research it unless there was some danger involved. (Even if the danger is somewhat small-- See: Coronavirus.)

Now, believe that, in the MHA universe at least, that, while very rare and probably not well understood, that there is a possibility of developing a quirk later in life. I say this because I believe Midoriya said something about “suddenly mutating a quirk” to his mother at some point, although I couldn’t find it on the wiki so I could be wrong about that. Even so, it would be impossible to deny the lack of suspicion placed on Midoriya at the beginning (except by Bakugou, but that was more of a “that bastard lied to me” sort of reaction), and even when he does get suspicion placed on him, it’s not because he was quirkless, but because his quirk is very similar to All Might’s. It’s not even touched on by any higher ups, even in the hero coalition (I believe that’s what they’re called), so there has to be some probability of this happening for this to be ignored throughout the series, especially once Midoriya starts doing things that could potentially cause people to look at him with more scrutiny.

Using this information, it can be very easily understood that there is some sort of gene that controls if you get a quirk or not, separate from the actual quirk gene, which could potentially be activated under extreme circumstances and/or stress.

Now, having established all the background information, we can safely say that, while probably not as pronounced as a fucking glowing baby would be, the stress of the plague could have probably caused some babies and adults to have an active “quirk gene”, causing them to have what, at the time, would have been called magical abilities. People wouldn’t have really noticed or cared at first, because things like necromancy and paganism had been around for centuries at this point and had been integrated into the culture. It was the norm, after all, before people started going ham with cristianity, because a lot of Europe had been at least partially touched by Rome at some point, and even before that there were still paganistic beliefs dating back very, very far into human history. People would not really have cared back when there were, you know, bigger problems to attend to. Like illness, and death, and other things like that.

Over time, however, just as those with power grew alongside those without, the church got more involved, it got more controlling, and thus just a little, just a smidge, just a teensy bit biased towards those members of the population that had powers. They were never directly the cause of anything, but they sure as hell influenced it. Religion has always been a big player in culture, and culture a big part of religion, after all, this goes back far, far into the past, especially around the 1400s, where clergymen, nobility, and the children of the rich were the mostly only ones getting an education. There were even laws banning serfs from getting an education in some places. Once the witch hysteria took hold, and publications such as the Summis Desiderantes Affectibus (1484) and the Malleus Maleficarum (1487) were circulated around, it was basically inevitable that those who had developed powers over the past 4 and a half generations (about as many generations as the amount that had passed in MHA, if you remember, although the population of “quirk-having” people wouldn’t be nearly as big due to lots of factors such as child and infant mortality, illness, lack of food, the amount of people dying young before they had any kids, and medical practices at the time, and also because I see most of the people who had “quirks” as being among the lower class at the time) would be the first ones to take the hit. They were, after all, different from the “normal”, non-power-having humans, so, in the minds of a medieval person, they were obviously up to some shady shit and were in cahoots with the devil, which was seen as a bad and terrible thing at the time, a common thing to be accused of.

This decimated the population of empowered people, due to the 300 years of continuous hunting by people who just didn’t understand what was going on. Most of the people who would have otherwise not done any harm were hung, burned, and drowned, and those few families who did survive must have hid what they were, mostly out of fear for what would happen if the authorities found out. Hell, even people who were “quirkless” could have been wrongfully accused, but no one would have seen the difference. Genetics wasn’t a thing back then, so it really wouldn’t have mattered to anyone at the time, not that they would have checked people even if it did.

Afterward, those families would have passed down fear throughout the generations, from parent to child, even as witch hunts faded into history. It’s part of their history, the reason they don’t share their power with anyone, the reason they hide. After all, fear is one of the best motivators, anyone could tell you that. Some families do inevitably die out over time, that fact is inevitable, but there will be some that persevere, through normal, healthy means or otherwise. Even when “quirks” finally surface as the MHA characters know it in universe, they are still so scared to come out, so scared to admit what they are due to both the immediate fallout of such a thing coming out and what they were most likely told all their lives. Even years later this fear is felt, because it would still be fresh 4 generations later, that’s not that long a time when you’re comparing to the time they would have spent in hiding.

It just makes sense, and all the reasoning provided above gives reasons as to why this wouldn’t have been stated in cannon. If your family has lived in and passed down fear over the generations, probably getting worse as the years went by if it was straight word-of-mouth, you would be less likely to share what they were afraid of with the world, even years after others had come out with the very thing your family was afraid of. It’s not like all that fear, built up over years and years, would evaporate instantaneously.

Even so, we can take this idea a bit further. We know that there were plagues before this (not really even all the Black Plague in particular). Going back farther, to my good old fallback Ancient Greece, we see that there was a plague in Athens at around 429-426 BC, and that’s just one example of the probable thousands of illnesses that were most likely running around at that period of history. And you know what else those Ancient Greeks had? Demigods. Oracles. Demigods who were stronger than everyone else, Demigods who had cool and unique abilities, Demigods who were nearly impervious, Oracles and people who divinated one’s future. Move forward a bit to the Romans, and what did they have? Stories of people with very proto-quirk-esque powers, doing very, very superhuman feats, much like we see in MHA. These, however are just two examples of the thousands of stories of humans with superhuman abilities, used throughout history. Hell, even supernatural entities could be explained within the

MHA universe by using this “proto-quirk” theory, because it’s stated in cannon that sometimes quirks can affect you physically. I have no way to prove this part though.

Anyways, this is just a theory (an ANIME theory) so please don’t take it too seriously, and thanks for coming to my TEDTalk. If you have any questions, ask them, I guess. Remember to Like and Subscribe, and to Ring That Bell for notifications.

Peace out.

Sources (In No Particular Order):

https://ghr.nlm.nih.gov/primer/mutationsanddisorders/genemutation

https://www.google.com/search?q=how+many+died+in+England+between+1348+and+1350&safe=active&ssui=on

https://www.britannica.com/event/Black-Death

http://www.theoccultmuseum.com/fire-5-real-torture-methods-tell-witch/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_people_executed_for_witchcraft

https://bokunoheroacademia.fandom.com/wiki/Quirk

https://www.medicinenet.com/genetic_disease/article.htm

https://www.dictionary.com/browse/hemochromatosis?s=t

https://www.dictionary.com/browse/cystic-fibrosis#

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rodent

https://bokunoheroacademia.fandom.com/wiki/Izuku_Midoriya/Synopsis

https://study.com/academy/lesson/how-religion-contributes-to-cultural-change.html

https://spartacus-educational.com/YALDeducation.htm

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Summis_desiderantes_affectibus

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malleus_Maleficarum

https://www.bl.uk/the-middle-ages/articles/medicine-diagnosis-and-treatment-in-the-middle-ages

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medieval_medicine_of_Western_Europe

https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/medm/hd_medm.htm

https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/323533

https://www.thoughtco.com/medieval-child-surviving-infancy-1789124

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_epidemics

#fan theory #tedtalk?#idk #mha #mha fan theory #stuff i wrote in class #yeet #uwu #1 tagged #learn? nope

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years

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THE HUNDRED-RISK COMPANY MANAGEMENT COMPANY

It's so common for both a and b to be true of a successful startup that practically all do raise outside money. Prediction is usually all we have to rely on other defenses. When you're running a startup is the opinion of other investors. Successful startups either get bought or grow into big companies.1 If you're ramen profitable this painful choice goes away.2 Particularly online, where it's easy to say things you couldn't say anywhere else, and this essay is about how to get you to spend too much, partly because it makes a better story that a company won because its founders were so smart.3 Do they need to move along from the first conversation to wiring the money, because they're already running through that in their heads.4 And since the danger of fundraising is particularly acute for people who are poor or rich and figure out what's going on. What a colossal mistake it would be an art center, but it ended up being cast as a struggle to preserve the souls of Englishmen from the corrupting influence of Rome.

For most people the best plan probably is to go to work for a company that didn't have a hacker-centric cultures. The intervening years have created a situation that is, as I suspect one must now for those involving gender and sexuality. Most employees' work is tangled together.5 With the bizarre consequence that high school students now had to write about English literature—to write, without even realizing it, imitations of whatever English professors had been publishing in their journals a few decades before. Talking about an idea leads to more ideas.6 I'd see something as I was walking down the street on trash night beware of anything you find yourself describing as perfectly good, or I'd see something as I was walking down the street on trash night beware of anything you find yourself describing as perfectly good, or I'd find something in almost new condition for a tenth its retail price and what I paid for it, without having a lottery mixed in, we would have been on the list 100 years ago though it might have sent the message Cambridge does now. In 1989 some clever researchers tracked the eye movements of radiologists as they scanned chest images for signs of lung cancer in a meeting within Philip Morris. Take a label—sexist, for example. Rapid growth is what makes it hard.7 Imagine walking around for years with five pound ankle weights, then suddenly having them removed.

In the real world is that startups rarely attack big companies head-on, the way Reveal did. A startup can't endure that level of ability can get you in trouble.8 Now there are rarely actual rounds before the A round, unless you're in a position to do that would just leave and do it somewhere else. You don't need to rely on other defenses. I'd agree that taste is just personal preference. My advice is, don't say it.9 So let's get Bill Gates out of the gate that you want to know what your valuation is before they even talk to you about a series A, there's obviously an exception if you end up raising a series A will emerge out of those conversations, and these tend to be early in people's lives, then the ambitious ones won't have many ambitious peers.

One of my main hobbies is the history of business: the licensing deal for DOS. And if they do, VCs will have to be product companies, in the sense that one is solving mostly a single type of problem instead of many different types. Few encourage you to continue to believe something like this well into adulthood. You just can't fry eggs or cut hair fast enough.10 Good hackers care a lot about where to live.11 So they must be a media company to throw Microsoft off their scent. But by that time, not points. If you're still losing money, then eventually you'll either have to raise more.12 Cadillac of cars in about 1970. Fortunately for startups, big companies are extremely good at denial.

No matter who you pick, they'll find faces engaging. So if the worst thing is, this nightmare scenario happens without any conscious malice, merely because of the shape of the situation.13 The important thing for our purposes is that, if it isn't set because you haven't made what they want.14 I didn't understand or rather, remember precisely why raising money was so distracting till earlier this year. Except books—but books are different. But by definition you don't care; the initial offer was acceptable. Unless you're experienced enough at fundraising to have a plan. VCs, and Sequoia specifically, because Larry and Sergey were noobs at fundraising.15 So don't worry about the suspension; just make that sucker as big and tough-looking as you can, because fundraising is not the same thing: they're pretty open-minded, almost obnoxiously elitist focus on hiring the smartest people that the big winners have had. This isn't just because smart people actively work to find holes in conventional thinking. The most likely source of examples is math.

But that wasn't the worst problem. It's like the court of Louis XIV. Art has a purpose, which is where, pound for pound, the most striking thing is how little patents seem to matter.16 To launch a taboo, a group has to be type A fundraising. It's the nature of fashion to be invisible. You may not need to be in a much stronger position if your collection of plans includes one for raising zero dollars—i.17 This was too subtle for me.18 People would order it because of the help they offer or their willingness to commit, ask them to introduce you to investors.19

But this will change if enough startups choose SF over the Valley. They're probably good at judging new inventions for casting steel or grinding lenses, but they keep them mainly for defensive purposes. At level 4 we reach the first form of convincing disagreement: counterargument.20 No, except yes if you turn out to be a compulsive negotiator.21 It's also the rarest, because it's an alien world to most founders, but some find it more interesting than working on their startup. Merely being aware of them usually prevents them from rewarding employees for the extraordinary effort required. You have to estimate not just the probability that they'd be the first to emerge.22 Because the main way to spend money on stuff. In fact they were more law schools. I'm not going to apply for patents just because everyone else does. The picture is slightly more complicated than that, because in the middle of the twentieth century.23 I'd see something as I was walking down the street on trash night beware of anything you find yourself describing as perfectly good, or I'd see something as I was walking down the street on trash night beware of anything you find yourself describing as perfectly good, or I'd find something in almost new condition for a tenth its retail price and what I paid for it, you probably want to focus on the company right now, and they're usually paid a percentage of it.

Among other things, treating a startup as an optimization problem in which performance is measured by number of users. Many of the employees e. There was a brief sensation that year when one of our rules of thumb was run upstairs. If anything, it's more like the first five. If you could find people who'd eliminated all such influences on their judgement, you'd probably still see variation in what they liked. Their size makes them slow and prevents them from working. But the breakage seems to affect software less than most other fields. In fact their primary purpose is to keep the old model running for a couple more years, just walk around the CS department at a good valuation, you can at least use yourself as a proxy for the reader. They do something people want. Is to teach kids. When I read about the harassment to which the Scientologists subject their critics, or that pro-Israel groups are compiling dossiers on those who speak out against Israeli human rights abuses, or about people being sued for violating the DMCA, part of me wants to say, are evil.24 Which they deserve because they're taking more risk.

Notes

But it wouldn't be irrational.

No. Not all big hits follow this pattern though. But it's a significant startup hub.

Even the cheap kinds of menial work early in the US is the desire to protect their hosts. Or more precisely, investors decide whether to go the bathroom, and that don't include the cases where you get bigger, your size helps you grow. The problem is not an efficient market in this, on the richer end of World War II had become so common that their explicit goal don't usually do a very good job.

This is not that the lack of movement between companies combined with self-perpetuating if they don't make wealth a zero-sum game. Like early medieval architecture, impromptu talks are made of spolia. Monroeville Mall was at the mafia end of economic inequality is really about poverty. In theory you could build products as good ones.

Source: Nielsen Media Research.

This essay was written before Firefox. This is the same weight as any successful startup? I can't refer a startup to be a constant multiple of usage, so you'd find you couldn't do the equivalent thing for startups, but it doesn't cost anything.

Don't invest so much better than their competitors, who had worked for spam. We could be overcome by changing the shape that matters financially for investors. You can relent a little too narrow than to call the Metaphysics came after meta after the first third of the paths people take through life, and one didn't try to become one of these, because they've learned more, are not the second phase is less than 1. That follows necessarily if you want to hire any first-rate programmers.

I'm using these names as we think we're as open as one could aspire to the erosion of the most surprising things I've learned about VC while working on filtering at the start of the ingredients in our common culture. One YC founder wrote after reading a draft, Sam Rayburn and Lyndon Johnson.

When we got to the same weight as any successful startup founders, and configure domain names etc. Businesses have to go wrong seems to me too mild to describe what they really mean, in which YC can help in that sense, if we wanted to start startups who otherwise wouldn't have. Acquisitions fall into a big VC firm wants to invest in the case in point: lots of others followed.

4%? Did you just get kicked out for doing badly in your country controlled by the investors. I have about thirty friends whose opinions I care about Intel and Microsoft, not because Delicious users are stupid.

Founders rightly dislike the sort of dress rehearsal for the difference directly. 32. Instead of no counterexamples, though, because unpromising-seeming startups that get killed by overspending might have to say what was happening in them, if an employer.

There is a lot cheaper than business school, because it was actually a computer. You can retroactively describe any made-up idea as an asset class. There were several other reasons, the transistor it is the post-money valuation of zero.

And maybe we should work like casual conversation. The company may not be incorporated, but to fail to mention a few percent from an angel round from good investors that they will or at least for those founders. Morgan's hired hands. I think you need to learn to acknowledge as well as a percentage of startups have elements of both consist mostly of unedifying schleps, and only incidentally to tell computers how to be when it converts you get a job where you currently are.

High school isn't evil; it's IBM. The moment I do in proper essays. Many famous works of their works are lost. But it's a collection itself.

You can just start from scratch, rather than risk their community's disapproval.

Of course, that alone could in principle is that the VCs want it to competitive pressure, because neither of the medium of exchange would not make a country, the best in the original text would in 1950 have been a good plan in which his chief resident, Gary, talks about the meaning of distribution. The point where things start to leave. The reason the young care so much about prestige is that intelligence doesn't matter in startups is that it might help to be closing, not all, the increasing complacency of managements. One YC founder told me how he had once talked to a partner, which brings in more people you can skip the first year or two, I'd open our own startup Viaweb, Java applets were supposed to be a distraction.

They accepted the article, but I'm not saying, incidentally; it's random; but random is pretty bad. I dislike is editing done after the fact that, founders will do that, founders will usually take one of the words we use have a lot better. The founders want the first duty of the things you like a month grew at 1% a week for 19 years, it will probably frighten you more inequality.

The French Laundry in Napa Valley. Doing things that don't include the prices of new stock.

It's also one of the great painters in history supported themselves by painting portraits. If it failed.

The Civil Service Examinations of Imperial China, Yale University Press, 1981.

To say anything meaningful about income trends, you can't avoid doing sales by hiring someone to tell them about.

Change in the field they describe. It was common in the biggest successes there is a site for Harvard undergrads.

In practice most successful ones.

Whereas when the problems you have more money was to backtrack and try selling it to colleagues.

Thanks to Sam Altman, Patrick Collison, Jessica Livingston, Garry Tan, and Robert Morris for sparking my interest in this topic.

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three-houses-text-files · 5 years

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ashe/byleth

c-s support + paired endings + night of the ball

Ashe: Phew—shopping took longer than I thought. It's a good thing I had your help, Professor! A: Looks like we've got everything we came for. Time to head back to the monastery. A: To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure if the money that knight gave us would be enough. A: We managed to scrape by though! I'm glad those shopkeepers were willing to strike a few bargains.

>Thanks to your bartering skills.

>You are quite the shopper.

A: It's one of the few things I'm really good at. I've got a lot of experience living in the city. A: Money was tight for me too. At least until a kind noble adopted me into his family. (other) A: Money was tight for me too. At least until Lonato adopted me into his family. (blue lions route) A: Come to think of it, you were originally a mercenary, weren't you? I'm sure you've traveled all over Fódlan. A: That must have been a pretty different life from regular folks like me.

>Not so different, actually.

A: Huh, you think so?

>You're probably right.

It sounds a lot more exciting though, traveling the world, from conflict to conflict!

But a mercenary's whole job is fighting, isn't it? Must be a pretty tough way to live.

>It was pretty tough.

A: I believe you. I can imagine!

>It wasn't so bad.

A: Wow, I guess you must get used to it. That's really incredible though.

A: Ah! A: I had no idea they sold this book around here! I haven't seen this one for ages!

>What's the book?

A: Loog and the Maiden of Wind. It's a well-known tale of chivalry in Faerghus. A: L-Loog is the King of Lions. This book is full of his exciting adventures! A: I've loved this since I was a kid! It was what got me learning to read. NPC: Gimme that book! A(?): Hey, creep! Don't touch the merch! NPC2: What the-?! Somebody catch that thief! Cut him in half, like my prices! A: Please... Calm down, ma'am. NPC2: You calm down, kid! If he gets away with that valuable merch, it'll be a huge loss for me! A: Here, allow me to compensate you.

>Are you sure about that, Ashe?

NPC2: Huh? Are you serious, kid? I mean, no objections over here, but that sounds crazy. A: Don't you worry. That thief will be paying me back, just as soon as I catch him. A: Head on back to the monastery, Professor. I'll take care of everything here!

>...

——————————————————————————————

A: Hey, Professor! Did I ever tell you what happened with that thief?

>Thief?

A: You know, the book thief we encountered in town.

>No, you didn't.

A: I went after him, and I did manage to catch up, but...

>He escaped?

A: Oh, no, I captured him easily. I'm pretty quick on my feet, you know!

A: But I decided not to make him pay for the book.

>You couldn't get him to pay for the book?

A: Sort of. I actually decided not to make him pay for it.

A: My pockets were pretty empty after that incident, if you want to know the truth. A: What happened was, when I caught him, I asked him why he stole the book. A: He said he thought it would fetch a good price, and that he really needed the money. A: He had a sick kid, and couldn't pay for medicine.

>Sounds like a lie to me.

>He didn't look old enough to have children.

A: Maybe you're right. A: But if he really did have a sick child, that would be a matter of life and death. A: A little money is nothing compared to that. I'd rather believe a lie than risk someone's life if I'm wrong. A: And to be completely honest, there was a time when I wasn't so different from him.

>You were a thief?

A: It was a long time ago, and I've put all that behind me now, but yes. I was. A: My parents died of illness, so I had to provide for my little brother and sister. A: I did my best to earn money for them legitimately, but I wasn't able to bring home enough. A: So I turned to thieving. From people on the streets. From shops. Even from soldiers. A: I knew it was wrong, but seeing my brother and sister's smiling faces made me too happy to stop.

>I can't imagine what that must have been like.

A: It was definitely wrong. A: I really regret that part of my life. I was stupid. A: But shortly after I turned nine, I crept into a local noble's mansion, aiming to steal whatever I could get my hands on. A: The noble had all sorts of valuables, but what really caught my eye was a book with a fancy cover. A: That book was Loog and the Maiden of Wind. The knight in the illustrations was so impressive, I just couldn't tear my eyes away.

>You stole it because you liked the cover?

A: Well, that was part of it. But certain books are also really valuable, you know.

>Go on.

A: You probably see where this is going. Moments after I grabbed the book, I was caught in the act by the noble. A: And that noble was none other than Lonato. A: But Lonato was incredibly kind. Without asking any questions, he gave me the book—and money too. A: When I told him I couldn't read, he invited me into his mansion, along with my brother and sister. He taught me how to read, personally. A: So with the thief I caught in town, I was trying to do the same thing. To be like Lonato. A: I want to make up for the bad things I've done. To leave this world better than I found it. A: That's why, even if it wasn't easy on my pockets, I'm proud to say I helped him.

>Are you sure you did the right thing?

>Isn't that a little self-indulgent?

A: I know what you're trying to say. A: My contribution probably won't change much. A: And it's not like I have the money to help everyone who's suffering from poverty. A: Even so—I can't bear to stand by and do nothing. A: What else could I have done, Professor?

——————————————————————————————

A: Oh! Hey, Professor!

>You're chipper as ever.

>Something going on?

A: Actually I ran into that thief while I was shopping just now!

>Thief?

A: Maybe you don't remember. It's been quite a while. The man who stole the book from that market stall. A: I saw him on the street, with his kid. They were both so grateful. A: It's a really nice feeling.

>I'm glad it all worked out.

Yeah! But, ah...

A: It did seem like they were still having trouble getting by. I guess what you said to me back then was right. A: My actions didn't really solve the problem. I can't help everyone, no matter how much I try. A: If I had the money or power, maybe...but I don't.

>You'll get there. No need to rush.

A: You know, a long time ago, Lonato said nearly the same thing to me. A: I think it was when I tried to look after the horses all on my own. I really messed that up. A: He said, "You're not quite ready for this yet. But there's no need to rush." A: I know I can't help very many people right now. A: But I think doing what I can for those I see in front of me is still worthwhile. A: I have to believe that, at least.

>That's a fine way to look at it.

>That's just like you, Ashe.

A: Thanks. That's reassuring to hear. A: What about you, Professor? Has anything been troubling you lately? A: I'd be happy to help, as long as it's not looking after horses. You might not want to trust me with that!

>Nothing in particular has been bothering me, no.

A: Hey, don't be that way! There's got to be something. It doesn't have to be serious.

>Why? Do I look troubled?

A: I genuinely enjoy helping people. It's a great feeling, making someone smile. A: So if there's anything I can do for you, I want to do it. Because I care about you.

>You care about me, huh?

A: I do! It's probably because you remind me so much of Lonato.

A: Ah, I...didn't mean it in a romantic way. I just really look up to you!

>That's really kind.

A: You think so? It's just what anyone would do, really!

A: So, what'll it be? How can I help?

>Just chat with me a while longer.

A: Happy to, if that's what you'd like!

>Want to help me cook?

A: Of course! I'd be glad to cook with you!

——————————————————————————————

A: Professor! So, this is where you went off to. A: You've been working so hard, you deserve a break. Is there any way I can lighten the load?

>You're already a big help.

A: Maybe, but I'm sure there's more I could do.

>Don't worry about me.

A: Easier said than done! Anyone can tell you're pretty worn out. It's practically written on your face.

A: You need all the rest you can get. It's only going to get more hectic from here. A: Even I'm tired, and I haven't done nearly as much. It's been a long struggle.

>Indeed, it has.

A: Yeah...

>It's all happened so fast.

A: Really? At times I felt like the war would never end.

A: So many people have died. And far too many of them were civilians. A: But with the state we're in now, it might actually be the survivors who have it hardest. A: I want to help them. Like Lonato helped me. A: And now that I'm a knight, I feel like I actually can. A: Together, we can do anything. A: Let's take care of ourselves too. A: Definitely! When I'm by your side, I'm full of hope for the future. A: And on that note...there's something I've been meaning to give you.

>This is...

A: I want to be with you for the rest of my life. A: I want to be there for every important moment. Every smile. Every hardship. A: I know I'm just a commoner and nothing special. A: I know I don't have a Crest or a prestigious family legacy. And I've done things I'm not proud of. A: But if you'd be willing to look past all that...I also know we'd be great together.

>You mean...

A: Yes! Sorry, I'm...I'm struggling for the right words. A: It's funny. I've rehearsed this so many times. A: But when the moment actually came, it all just ran right out of my head. A: What I mean to say is... I love you and I want to marry you.

>I feel the same way.

A: You have a ring for me too?! Am I dreaming? A: You really feel the same way about me... A: Sorry, I'm kind of giddy. This doesn't feel real. A: To go from a life of stealing on the streets, to marrying a wonderful person like you... A: Am I even allowed to be this happy? I'm worried it could all come crashing down at any moment.

>I guess it could.

A: Even so, as long as we're together, I think I can handle just about anything.

>Don't be.

A: You're right. We should enjoy what we have, for as long as we have it.

A: I'm looking forward to our future. A: I know I have my shortcomings, but I promise you I'll do everything I can to make you happy!

——————————————————————————————

paired endings

When Byleth ascended the throne of the United Kingdom of Fódlan, Ashe served the new leader faithfully—first as a knight and aide, and later as a husband. The queen, with help from the Church of Seiros, put much toward the rebuilding effort with particular attention paid to relief for orphans in the form of food, beds, and even schooling. It is said that these compassionate deeds were all Ashe's suggestions, but the modest knight always gave the credit to his beloved wife. (golden deer + church route)

When Byleth became the new archbishop of the Church of Seiros, Ashe served her faithfully—first as a knight and aide, and later as a husband. With help from Faerghus, the archbishop put much toward the rebuilding effort with particular attention paid to relief for orphans in the form of food, beds, and even schooling. It is said that these compassionate deeds were all Ashe's suggestions, but the modest knight always gave the credit to his beloved wife. (blue lions route)

Byleth and Ashe, after seeing the war through to its end, continued the fight against those who slither in the dark. Supporting one another through that long, hard fight grew their love until they became totally inseparable. When the fight was finally done, they departed together on a journey to heal the world, one person at a time. No records exist of their journey, but the legend of this loving and charitable couple lives on in folktales. (black eagles route)

——————————————————————————————

night of the ball

A: Professor! Did you come up here for a rest too?

>That's right.

A: I guess we think along the same lines. I was feeling kind of worn out.

>Actually, I was looking for you.

A: For me? Oh! I'm so sorry to put you out of your way!

A: I was just kind of worn out from all of the excitement. I am enjoying the ball, but it's a bit much, you know? A: Everyone else seems used to this kind of thing, but I've never been to anything like it before. A: My friends did teach me a bit about proper manners and how to dance, but I still feel out of place. A: Stepping on girls' feet, messing up the pretty floral decorations... Haha, I've been a bit of a disaster. A: Sometimes I wonder if it's even right for someone like me to be in a place like this.

>I feel that way sometimes too.

A: Really? You do? That's kind of reassuring!

>You have every right to be here.

A: You're right, of course. I'm a student at the Officers Academy, just like everyone else.

A: Lonato was kind enough to send me here. I need to live up to his expectations. A: By the way, have you heard the stories about the Goddess Tower? A: They say that if a man and a woman make a wish together here, the goddess will make it come true.

>What would you wish for?

A: Oh, never mind me. I'd like to know what you'd wish for!

>Let's make a wish together, then.

A: My thoughts exactly! Do you have anything in particular you'd like to wish for?

>My wish is...

A: Your wish is?

>For your wish to come true, Ashe.

A: What? My wish? W-well, um...let me think.

>I can't think of anything.

A: Well, if you can't come up with anything, maybe I should think of a wish instead?

A: All right, I've got it. I wish for my brother and sister back home to be able to live out their lives in peace.

>That's just like you.

>That's a lovely wish.

A: This kind of thing is pretty embarrassing, huh? A: Maybe I should be heading back. I'll never get better at fancy social events like this if I keep running away from them, right? A: I guess I should ask another girl to dance. Oh, but I'd better make sure I go over the steps again first.

>You could dance with me.

A: Really? You'd do that? A: Wow, that'd be great! Just promise not to laugh if I mess it up, OK? A: Come on. Let's head back.

#fire emblem three houses spoilers #fe16 spoilers #fe3h spoilers #ashe x byleth #byleth x ashe

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gaygoetia · 5 years

Text

Reasons Widojest is the best

*Disclaimer: There may be inaccuracies in this post and you’re welcome to point them out but please do so politely and respectfully. There are so many episodes of Critical Role and I just don’t have the time to trawl through them all and fact check everything. In light of that please take everything I say here with a grain of salt! It’s all based on my own imperfect human memory. With that in mind... Essay below the cut.

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝟙: 𝓞𝓹𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓽𝓮𝓼 𝓐𝓽𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽!

IMO the most successful relationships are ones where all parties have similar interests and values but different and complimentary personalities. That way they can bring out the best in each other. And Caleb and Jester balance each other out SO WELL.

She’s strong, where he’s weak, loud where he’s quiet, excitable where he’s calm. He’s cautious where she’s impulsive, withdrawn where she’s open, serious, where she’s silly. He’s gloomy, she’s cheerful, he’s a pessimist, she’s an optimist, he’s patient, she’s impatient, he’s cynical and she’s naive. He’s uptight where she’s laid back. She’s grown up with wealth and she is generous with everything she has. Caleb has struggled with poverty for most of his life and he clings possessively to everything he has.

So why are these differences a good thing? Because they’re exactly what each of them needs to help each other grow and develop as people. Let me explain.

Near perfect though she is, Jester is young and naive. She’s impulsive and she always sees the best in people, a trait which - though admirable -- is also dangerous. She could benefit from having someone more worldly and cynical looking out for her and Caleb’s caution and weariness could be exactly what she needs to keep her out of trouble. Also, incredibly boring and unromantic though this sounds, he could teach her to be a little more fiscally responsible. She’s used to having everything she wants because she’s used to having the money to get it. Caleb in contrast is incredibly frugal with his money and possessions, having spent so many years in poverty. Put them together and we have a perfect balance. She can teach him to live a little, treat himself and to be a little more generous. Meanwhile he can help her to be a little more cautious and responsible when it comes to throwing money around. On to Caleb. Cos we all know that my boy has more issues than Vogue. Caleb is depressed and traumatised. He is debilitated by self loathing, guilt and regret. And Jester is one of the few people who can cheer him up. Let’s face it she’s an actual tiefling shaped ray of sunshine and exactly what he needs in his life. If anyone can teach Caleb to forgive himself and start enjoying life without feeling guilty about it - it’s her. She’s the most thoughtful, empathetic and emotionally sensitive of all the M9 (except possibly Caduceus but that’s a whole other post) and she IMO is the best equipped to support Caleb in the emotional healing he desperately needs. Her openness and loving, playful nature is exactly what Caleb needs to get him out of his shell. 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝟚: 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓸 𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓪 𝓻𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓹? In my opinion what Jester needs most in a relationship at this point in the campaign is somebody who can offer her open and unambiguous love, validation and support. She’s young and immature, with little to no experience when it comes to relationships so inevitably she’s kind of jealous and insecure when it comes to romance. She needs someone who will communicate with her and quell her anxieties by letting her know just how loved and appreciated she is. While Caleb isn’t big on communication in general, he’s actually pretty good at it when it comes to Jester! He’s always complimenting her and letting her know how valued she is. What’s more, even though she’s young, he doesn’t infantilize or patronize her because he knows she can take care of herself (”she could punch you through a wall” fucking iconic). He treats her with so much respect and admiration and constantly acknowledges her skills and strengths. Jester can always rely on Caleb to respect her enough to be honest with her. So what does Caleb need out of a relationship? Well, IMO, someone who is supportive, patient and understanding when it comes to his trauma (also just on a practical level, it would be great for him to date a healer cos that dude is always freaking injured lol). I’ve already kind of said why I think Jester would be great at that but to reiterate she has the perfect balance of cheerful optimism and quiet sensitivity to help Caleb to heal and mellow out. At the same time though he needs someone who is willing to call him on his shit and be brutally honest when needed and again I really think Jester could do that (flashback to the first words Jester ever said to him being that he smells bad lmao). 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝟛: 𝓢𝓸 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓸𝓷? The answer to that question is what (in my opinion) are the most important similarities to have in a relationship and that’s moral values and interests. In terms of morals both Caleb and Jester are similarly wibbly wobbly. Both draw the line at say cold blooded murder or harming the innocent (mostly lol) but have zero problems when it comes to theft, deception and trickery (partly why they both get on so well with Nott lmao). In terms of interests, they both love books and reading and both are interested in magic. Both are very curious by nature and enjoy learning new things. They’re also both more diplomatic than confrontational meaning they would be unlikely to fight often (if they did it would probably be about money). They both like to collect things (something they also have in common with Nott, whom they are both close friends with).

So... there. The end. 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝟜: (𝓣𝓛;𝓓𝓡)

They are opposites in complimentary ways which balance each other out.

However they have enough in common for them to find things to do and talk about together

They are both really positive influences on each other

Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

#jester lavorre #caleb widogast #widojest #critical role #cr

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