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#life ruiner non
ellethespaceunicorn · 3 months
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2023 Character Wrapped
@geralts-yenn and @raccoon-eyed-rebel tagged me to talk about my favorite characters. And well, this is just too good not to pass up. So, join me, won't you?
Let's rank my favorite characters! (Based on # of times I have written them).
Under the cut to keep my ramblings off your dashboard...but you just know there are bunch of Henry Cavill-shaped bitches under this cut.
But, in what order??
Alright, let's get this party started with...
Walter Marshall - Night Hunter
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I feel like this is absolutely no surprise that I've written the most for this grumpy bear. But, I just call him Daddy. Whether he be touch-starved, an enemy turned lover, falling in love like a love-sick puppy, taking a little "me time" for himself, or being the goodest boy as werewolf Wolfie. Even wrote a headcanon about his hobbies.
2. Clark Kent - Man of Steel, BvS, Justice League
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I have loved the character of Clark Kent since I was a little thing, I'm obsessed with curly-haired nerds. Clark also is the only character I have written "fluff" for, be it praising what you think are flaws or surprising you for your birthday. I have written him as a Sub and as a Dom (in my only work that has surpassed 1k notes).
3. August Walker - Mission: Impossible - Fallout
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I've never written August as the good guy, and there is a reason for that. In my head, he's the life-ruiner. He can be sweet (to you), but odds are he just killed a guy because the guy looked at you for longer than a second. I've written August as a pissed-off Dom who was sick of being interrupted, a very bad Daddy, and an Uncle who takes advantage of his nephew's girlfriend here(original) and here(director's cut).
4. Captain Syverson - Sand Castle
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Oh, Syverson. My baby don't even got a dayum first name and he's popular. I've written him confronting a lover during a post-apocalyptic pregnancy realization, and as a married father-to be getting his beard trimmed and talking to his unborn daughter. He's also featured in my Werewolf!Walter Marshall story, and that's all I'll say about that. (Also, I've been referring to him as James Syverson in every iteration of the character that I have written for - I think.)
5. Mike - Hellraiser: Hellworld
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My sweet baby boy. He is a guilty pleasure. I gave him a full series where he finds love and has quite the cast of characters as his family. But, technically, I only wrote the series because of what happened here and here, when his naughty Uncle slept with his girlfriend.
6. Napoleon Solo - The Man from U.N.C.L.E.
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He's just so fucking sexy. I love him, your honor. He's been a suave and sexy older man wooing a young student over a good meal, and also started a series where he was falling hard for a woman in his apartment building (still in the early stages and I promise @deandoesthingstome that I will get back to this series).
7. Sherlock Holmes - Enola Holmes series
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I have also loved Sherlock Holmes since I was a little kid. I thought he was the coolest person ever, but he's a curly-haired nerd so of course I loved him. I love when Sherlock is in love, whether he is ignoring his bratty wife until he takes matters into his own hands, or if he is having trouble coming to terms with new love.
8. Charles Brandon - The Tudors
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This little shit. This redeeemable, sexy, fucking slut. I love him. I've only written him once, and it was a request! But, I enjoyed it. I loved writing him getting teased sexually and then taking control of the situation. So hot.
9. Humphrey - Stardust
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Ok, not actually a fan of Humphrey, I've just written him. And that was all thanks to @sillyrabbit81's milestone celebration at the beginning of this year. This fic is kind of a weird egg, just, go with me though. The plot is: you and Humphrey are step-siblings who end up getting a little...involved. I'm not sorry for the title of this fic.
And to our last entry, the only non-HC character...
10. Lloyd Hansen - The Gray Man
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What can I say? If I had the means, and I guess I really do but whatever, I would rank this man at #2 above Clark Kent. Because Lloyd-excuse me...Sir is one of my all-time favorites. I've included him inside larger stories as a bit player, see Bright Like the Moon (where he plays a bad man later in the series). But, I also wanted him to have his own show where he was the star, so I had him stalk and kidnap a girl and tie her up in the basement and call her Sunshine. I also wrote a little headcanon about his family, quirks, hobbies and his sleeping habits.
TL;DR: Walter Marshall is Daddy, Lloyd Hansen is Sir. And I need to finish one series before starting another. Maybe I will work on that. *snort*
I have written for a lot of characters, and I'm not gonna stop. I really wanna write so much more and my WIP folder is literally overflowing with things. I just started a new fic like the day I posted the most recent chapter of THiCC. What am I doing??
No pressure tags: @cardierreh15 @milknhonies @halfofmysoulsblog @xblackreader @xsapphirescrollsx
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I've seen a lot of discussion and have done some of it myself about how the way that YA has become a Genre (TM) unto itself that is as often as not marketed to immature adults instead of actual teenagers, has led to some surprisingly (given all the discourse about how much more "inclusive" the genre has become) backwards, regressive tropes. But one such thing that I don't see discussed enough but that I was just talking about with @peterdyckmancampbell is that YA books never have sex in them anymore, even though that is a part of life for the statistical majority of teenagers worldwide. Nowadays, if you want to write sex in your YA, that's specifically a different category of book: New Adult, which are aimed at... college students? Adult YA people but they want to get hot and bothered? I feel like some of this is due to the fanfictionification of the genre, in that the people who write it and publish it have forgotten that there are narrative purposes for sex scenes beyond titillation or as a romance-novel-style emotional climax (lol) for a couple. But I also think that we've entered this weirdly regressive mindset even (especially?) among progressive, social-justice-oriented people -- and particularly the kind that argue about books online -- that sex is an inappropriate topic in media for teenagers, again, despite the fact that most teens have sex and certainly nearly all of them think a lot about it. It's just wild to me that the YA I was reading as a preteen in the early 2000s, at the height of the Purity Ring movement, had significantly more sex in it than two decades later, after we've been through multiple cycles of reaction against that and reaction against the reaction.
The kind of sex that you saw in YA in the early 2000s and earlier wasn't there in order to get you horny. Nor was it necessarily a lurid cautionary tale (though plenty of it was that). A lot of it was just presented as a fact of life. Or if it was messy, it was more a result of something like not being emotionally ready, or two people not being compatible, or another non-life-ruiner (I have never read Looking for Alaska but something like what John Green says in this video defending it from censors, and I read enough other books that were similar in that way -- where the bad sex was more "awkward" than "toxic"). But there were also some books that did present it positively, in the sense of it being a nice thing that you can share with someone you love when you are ready for it, and under the right circumstances... and that's a thing that truly progressive people should want to see more of in books for teens. If you're actually sex-positive, actually forward-thinking, you should recognize that as the kind of message we should be sending about sex to teenagers. Yeah, there are a lot of things that can go wrong with it, but a lot of that is because the actual experience is very much worth it and when you get it right, it can be truly special and wonderful. You feel the way you do, the way your growing body is making you feel, because the thing you want to do is worth doing right.
It's a huge shame especially when you think about the history of the YA genre, rooted in books like The Outsiders, written by an actual teenage girl to show the rougher, edgier side of teenage life, the violence and sex that adults didn't want them to talk about -- and carrying through to adult writers who drew on their own life experiences to give (then-)current teens the kinds of harder-hitting topical books that they knew they had needed at that age. I specifically remember reading a Judy Blume quote, in a collection of short stories she edited by authors whose books had been banned, about how she always tried to keep her teenage self in mind when writing, to remember never to sanitize what she wrote. Nowadays, I guess you have people who still talk about "writing the books I needed as a teen" but it's just about the demographic groups the main characters are in... but the subject matter is otherwise completely sanitized. It's so insulting to the intelligence and emotional maturity of teenagers, and I feel like if I were a literature teacher now to kids any older than like, 7th grade I'd be steering them away from the genre and toward grown-up books as much as I could
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period-dramallama · 2 months
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"Katherine is also considered one of the greatest examples of a historical-fiction love story ever written. In a poll conducted in the 1990s by Ladies' Home Journal, the novel ranked among the top-ten all-time best love stories.
Weir was inspired by Katherine to become an author of historical fiction,[8][9] and the novel would also later inspire her non-fiction study, Katherine Swynford: The Story of John of Gaunt and his Scandalous Duchess (2008) (U.S. title, Mistress of the Monarchy, The Life of Katherine Swynford, Duchess of Lancaster). It examines Seton's novel in historiographic terms and, while praising its general historical accuracy, categorizes it as primarily a feminist romance."
I disagree with the idea that Katherine is a feminist romance. For me, Feminism 101 is Girl Power: celebrating women being good at masculine things- Girls Can Do What Boys Can Do. (Feminism 102 is celebrating women being good at feminine things AND masculine things- Girls Can Do What Boys Can Do And What Girls Were Doing Was Already Valuable).
As I said in my review of Katherine:
“Inclination and good taste” prevent Katherine from interfering in politics. It’s “men’s business” and she’s framed as better than that meddling realm-ruiner Alice Perrers (boo!hiss!)
That's not feminist. Anya Seton has failed Feminism 101.
Yes, it was published in 1954, but Elizabeth and the Prince of Spain was published in 1953 and was markedly more feminist, having a healthy respect for Elizabeth's intelligence and her political acumen. Her taking the throne is a Good Thing.
In the top 10 best love stories? One of the best historical-fiction love stories?
Nah. The love story isn't as much of a focus in the book as you'd expect. It needed more development and I think it was hindered by the un-feminist choice to make Katherine apolitical. If Katherine had more agency, if she was involved in the duke's business, if she was like his consigliere, then the relationship would be better fleshed out. And Katherine's lack of personality doesn't help the romance either. A truly great romantic novel is where the characters are great together, but they have personalities as stand alone characters. Katherine pales in comparison to Elizabeth Bennet or Jane Eyre.
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narckaveh · 1 year
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One thing I HATE hate hate about the treatment of mental disorders and personality disorders is how people with BPD are commonly treated with respect, kindness, empathy and care from both non-mentally ill people as well as mentally ill people and are generally extremely well recepted for being a cluster b personality disorder. While every single other personality disorder in cluster B (besides maybe histronic) is demonized, called sociopaths (even though only one OCCASSIONALLY fits the criteria for even being one.) psychopaths, abusers, narcs, manipulators and life ruiners whenever BPD entirely has the capatbility to be abusive and manipulative as much as any other personality disorder. the only difference people see is that people with BPD tend to have more empathy. Not only do people with BPD get romanticized to all hell (albeit in a bad way) with the whole yandere trope at least they're portrayed in a way that's still likeable and relatable half the time. I love not being able to even hint towards the fact I have NPD without being treated like some abusive shithole.
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teamcivilian · 2 years
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Fear and Desire — Chapter 03
Fandom: James Bond
Rating: M
Warnings: Non-con in Ch01 and to a briefer extent in Ch03, graphic depictions of violence in Ch02 and Ch03, and major character death.
Summary: "If the rule you followed brought you to this, of what use was the rule?" — Cormac McCarthy (No Country for Old Men)
[Ch01] [Ch02] [Ch03] [Ao3 Link]
This was originally going to be four chapters but I said, three is enough. It's been a hot minute since I saw NTtD and I tried to elaborate a bit on Safin's motives, since canon couldn't be bothered. — Dorminchu
03: RUINER
Growing up, Safin was always a smaller, sickly boy compared to his siblings. That was why his father had been so eager to share his knowledge of the garden. 
By the time he had awoken from the coma his body had betrayed him. Now every day was a fight to regain what had been stolen from him, travelling in and out of hospital. A dozen surgeries and therapeutic sessions. Physical therapy and medications. Access to his father's inheritance ensured he would have a fresh set of organs and whatever else he required. The nurses and doctors and psychotherapists all remarked on what a polite and reserved young man he was in the face of the awful tragedy that had befallen his family. How strong he was to persevere through all of that.
In-between operations and recuperations Safin had plenty of time to ruminate. To lament what had happened to him for the rest of his life would be futile. Instead of grief there was only hatred disguised as emptiness. Under threats of incarceration he had expressed his absence of feeling and been told it was no aberration. Grief took a lot of time to process. He had every right to be angry about his condition. Never illness.
Though his family had been slaughtered and the garden razed, many of the books remained intact. Over the next decade and a half, and with time and care, he was able to eliminate most traces of the dioxins from his body in ways most modern medicine could not. He could do little about his skin pitted over.
By the time he was eighteen he had established contacts with the same men his father had worked for and learnt the name of his family's killer. Over the course of his recovery he was able to whittle down his desire for vengeance from the absurd and theatrical into something more sensible.
Alone, he would raze those who had seen fit to ruin the lives of his family, and from there begin reinventing a new life for himself from the ashes. It began with Mr. White and ended with Madeleine Swann. A girl born from wealth, brought up in the shadow of her father's work and a dying, feckless mother. He looked down into the surface of the lake, into the black abyss, and saw his sister. He reached into that lake and withdrew an innocent child from death. He ensured she would survive in time for her father's return.
For the next eighteen years he was her silent confidant. He knew of her name and all of her pseudonyms. Passing details delivered by his loyal subordinates. Her interest in mental health and non-profit work for charity. Her lack of luck in friends and poorer taste in men. At any time, he could have ended her as her father had ended his entire family. When Mr. White was found with a bullet in his head in Altaussee. When Swann came into contact with SPECTRE's worst nightmare 007. When Blofeld was thrown in prison, and when Bond abandoned her for good in Matera.
Yet Safin did not intervene. Why should he enable the success of that syndicate which had taken everything from him? Despite her abhorrence of her father's methods she had accepted White's money and his protection. She attached herself just as naturally to 007. She was cunning enough to spite her own fear. And nine months after the incident in Matera she bore a child.
Only then did Safin begin to put together a procedure for her retrieval. She would need protection and MI6 could only offer a surface-level guarantee. So for the next four years as he amassed his resources he was also keeping an eye on Madeleine Swann and her infant.
When they met for the second time in her office, five years later, he was curious. Would she recognize him now? Did she pause because of his inflammatory words or some part of her mind that recoiled in unwilling recognition?
The same part slowly giving way from disbelief into understanding on some subconscious level. It was not clear until she grasped the memory box in her hands. The horror he had grasped in the eyes of the adolescent giving way to despair. To look at his face and know there were no outs, no bargaining chips.
Two days had passed since their initial arrival onto his base. In between consultations with Obruchev and the other bioengineers, Safin noticed the blank walls. The soldiers around every corner were necessary but a proper refurbishment was overdue.
Military intelligence anticipated that the MI6 agents 007 and 008 would arrive within the next twenty-four hours. Not enough time to intercept the release of Heracles into the atmosphere. There were enough forces on the ground and around the island to alert him to any further interceptions. Better yet to lower the guard around the subterranean complex and let MI6 come directly to him. After Bond was dealt with there would be time to create an environment more befitting of home.
For now his new guests must be kept comfortable.
That morning, Madeleine would not come out of her cell for breakfast. When Primo opened the door she was still laying in the bed provided, feigning sleep. Dressed in her own clothes from the day before.
Safin said, Playing dead won't help you.
The stillness to her body suggested childlike stubbornness. But there was nothing she could do to harm herself within her cell. The room had been checked before her arrival.
He said, Mathilde has asked me about you. Did you know that?
No response.
I would like you to accompany me for breakfast. You may go willingly, or I will have you dragged like a prisoner. Which will it be?
She finally raised her head. An ugly, violent emotion kept behind her eyes.
There is a change of clothes for you. He motioned over to the chest. You will dress first. Everything you will need is here.
She did not move. I'd like some privacy.
Safin said nothing.
The realization passed over her with a slight shudder. She averted her face. She got up and went over to the chest and opened it. She slipped out of her blouse with trembling hands but kept on her camisole.
Undress, please.
A sharp flinch of her shoulders that she disguised as reaching for a plain taupe dress that would come down to her ankles. Matching blouse and cardigan covered her wrists. If she were looking she would catch his cold, empty smile. She had nothing to fear from him.
As she redressed she did not look at him. She stood with her chin down. He walked over to her. Without anger she was a much simpler creature. A beautiful, fragile thing just as easily snapped in half. In a perfect world he would have plenty of time to correct her more clandestine tendencies.
He said, Now, I'm sure you feel better.
Madeleine said nothing. She was looking past him. Safin nodded to Primo.
In a little while the two of them were attending a quiet breakfast while Primo remained as wordless vigil. The female aide who brought the tray of tea caught Safin's attention.
Klava, he said, switching to Russian, a moment please.
The aide stiffened at the gesture. He brushed her sleeve aside and brandished her hand revealing a row of smaller teeth-marks that were not enough to pierce the skin. How did this happen?
Her stupid little shit, she hissed, wrenching her hand away. That's the last time I bring her food.
Madeleine grasped her own teacup tightly. She was watching them now, very closely.
Safin said, I think she would not retaliate without good reason.
Every time, she asks for her mother. I don't see why you insist on keeping them separate from each other. The aide glared at Madeleine.
Your orders were to make sure the girl was fed and rested. Not push that responsibility onto our guest.
Your guests, the aide said through her teeth, who will not eat or drink anything I offer them because they suspect it must be poison.
Madeleine's jaw was very tight.
I assumed you would be skilled enough to negotiate, Safin said. Perhaps I was mistaken. If you would prefer instead to work down in the garden, I will notify your team immediately.
Klava's face was very pale. No, of course not.
Very good. You may leave us.
Then he looked at Madeleine. If you wish to know, Mathilde is safe. The girl does not cry much. But she is listless. She misses you dearly. I see no reason to separate you indefinitely, as long as you remain obedient.
She wouldn't bite someone out of malice, Madeleine spat.
Safin allowed her a small smile.
Of course not. She is usually so well-behaved.
Listen to me, right now. I will do whatever you ask. But you will not involve her in this sick little game. If you ever think of harming her, or allowing harm to come to her—
—in what way have I harmed either of you?
Her eyes flashed.
I have given you a room to sleep where you will not be threatened or disturbed. I have provided your daughter similar accommodations. If I wanted to hurt you—he glanced at Primo with the barest of nods that went unreciprocated—there are much simpler ways to do so. He looked at Madeleine. You are the only woman on this base. 
Her jaw clenched. Each meeting would be the same as the first. Safin waved his hand.
If you still think I have harmed you, in any way, please speak. Whenever we are alone I will only ask for your honesty. 
Her grasp on the teacup was uneven. She had curled her fingers into a fist, white-knuckled. He reached across the table to take her wrist and she shrank back, displacing a little liquid onto the saucer. His mouth twisted.
Madeleine, there is no need to be nervous. We are having a civil discussion.
She looked him in the eyes and said, I am doing this for Mathilde. No one else.
Of course. You need not justify yourself to me. He said, But if you are still concerned, I will entrust you the responsibility of caring for Mathilde. In return you will remain here on the island.
Madeleine's facade of calm rippled. What are you saying?
I cannot send you back into a world that would just as soon devour the daughter of SPECTRE. You will be safer here with your daughter. Does this not suit you?
The same dangerous softness without a smile. One misplaced word was all it took. She swallowed dryly.
Yes, it—it suits me.
Safin nodded. Have some tea.
Madeleine glanced at the mess she'd made but did not move.
You saw Klava serve us both. I gain nothing from poisoning you.
She took a sip but her eyes shone with contempt. She said, For what purpose are you keeping me alive?
I knew that someday you would grow into my enemy. You have been living in the shadow of your father for so long, yet you forget you are still his daughter. When you offered yourself for the sake of Mathilde it was your choice. The first, selfless act you have ever wrought, and now you will live by it.
That's not what I asked.
Madeleine, we have each lost so much. We understand one other so naturally that there is no reason for me to eliminate you. As the daughter of SPECTRE, it would be a greater cruelty to leave you to fend for yourself. What I am offering is far more merciful.
You are confusing obsession for mercy.
He faltered. A wheezing scoff shook his frame and betrayed the frail body beneath the kimono.
I assured you that I would never let anything happen to Mathilde, he said. But when our business with MI6 is finished, if you truly wish to leave this place, I will hand over the girl to your lover. There are many who would pay good money to claim ownership over Bond's woman.
Now she was forcing herself to remain very still. Her face must be blank. Placid. An arrogant tilt of the chin or callous remark would be easier to stomach than his lack of sentiment. Without that tenuous thread of human connection all her sacrifices were for nothing. The sooner she understood this truth the easier her life would be.
Of course, he said, it doesn't have to be this way. You can start over. Repent for the sins of your family. He gestured to the vial tucked away against his breast. If you wish it, I will make sure no one else can touch you.
After breakfast he dismissed Madeleine to her room and ordered Primo to accompany him to visit Mathilde. She was sitting on the bed meant for an adult, clutching the stuffed rabbit to her. When the door opened she looked over sharply.
Mathilde, I would like to talk to you. Is that all right?
No response.
You are more comfortable with French? He switched. Your mother and I were just talking about you.
Mathilde said nothing, though she was looking at him closely. She had her mother's hair. The same nose. Safin approached slowly and she did not decry his actions. She was looking over at Primo. Her wide blue eyes a shade darker than her mother's.
He indicated the opposite corner of the bed and asked, May I sit here?
She glanced over at the stuffed rabbit. Clutching it tightly, she nodded.
I heard about what happened this morning, with Klava. I understand you miss your mother. But you cannot behave like this in my home.
She was a bad lady.
Bad? What did she do?
Mathilde's brow creased. She was saying mean things about maman. And me.
Hardy, like her mother. But she would need a little coaching.
I'm sorry, Mathilde. I didn't know. If you would rather see your mother from now on, that can be arranged. But you must behave yourself. Can you promise that much?
Mathilde was looking at him closely. To settle her nerves, Safin gestured to the stuffed animal. What is his name?
Doudou.
I see. That's a nice name.
Mathilde said, Why are you talking to me?
You are my guest. I want to know how you are feeling.
You only care about maman.
That isn't true. You are important to her, and so you are important to me.
Mathilde looked away from him, at her only friend. Deep in thought. You know my maman?
We met a long time ago. When she was a child I saved her life. Over the years I came to care for her.
Why do you care about her if she doesn't like you?
Safin stopped. Mathilde was looking at him, unbiased and frank. Unlike her mother she had not yet learned to hate. He chuckled.
Well, sometimes you care for someone, even when they do not understand why. It doesn't matter if they understand. You care for them all the same.
He touched her head as if to tousle her hair. She tensed immediately, and he removed his hand. Are you feeling well?
It's cold.
It's no good for you to be stuck in a room by yourself. I would like you to accompany me for a walk. Remember? We walked around the garden together.
He offered his hand. She did not take it. I want to see maman.
You will see her after we walk. You have my word. OK?
They rounded the circumference of the garden two times and did not speak. Mathilde kept Doudou under her arm.
Mathilde looked him up and down. Still tense. I'm not supposed to talk to you.
Safin knelt down so they were on the same level.
Your mother is going to be all right. Right now she needs a little time to think. I know that I said you will see her. But she needs to be alone. Have you ever felt like that?
Mathilde didn't speak. She looked steadily at Primo and walked up to him and offered Doudou. Give him to maman. So she's safe.
Primo blinked slowly. He took the stuffed animal and nodded.
Safin caught Primo's eye. Return her to the room afterwards. She will see her mother another time.
Madeleine had been sitting, thinking. When the staff spoke in front of her at all it was always in Russian. They would always avoid eye contact. The thin man with glasses looked over and expressed his condolences for the boss's woman. Primo was the only one who acknowledged her with a look.
Every one of them complicit in their leader's scheme.
Left on the verge of tears that wouldn't come. Until he was away from her family once and for all there would be no end. She could not fold.
The moment she saw her own face it would be her father staring back at her. Or her mother.
Primo opened the door, walked in, set Doudou on the armoire. The kid came up to me and insisted that you have this.
Madeleine looked up. The muscles in her face fighting a losing battle for indifference. Her composure finally broke into a light sob. Primo turned away, ready to leave.
You don't have to do this, she said thickly. You see this plan he has, the lack of one. How can you stand there and let him get away with it?
I have my orders. As do you. See to it you don't give him a reason to reconsider his mercy.
Madeleine sneered. This is not mercy. It is senseless.
What he could not communicate in words. Two souls entrapped in the same circumstance. 
He's sick, said Madeleine. And he isn't getting better. That is why he feels he must eradicate all of these people, isn't it?
Primo said nothing.
He has probably been sick for some time, I think. All the medicine in the world can't stop the inevitable. Your boss is no better than any of these heartless men and women he has slaughtered in the name of progress. Whatever ideology he wants to paint it as. If he succeeds, what else is left to conquer?
Primo said, I'll collect you when he calls for you.
Madeleine walked over to the armoire. She clutched the rabbit to her own body and wept into its soft fur.
Then stopped. Groped the seam along Doudour’s head until she found the foreign outline under soft fabric. There was a slit no bigger than an inch. Reaching in, she experienced a stab of pain along the pad of her finger. Drawing out a shard of china spanning the length of her palm to her ring finger.
Madeleine wiped her bloodied hand on the sheets. She stared at the shard for a long time. She used it to tear a strip from the sheet and bind her hand.
Each time Madeleine left the cell she paid close attention to her surroundings. In the garden, the steel gate was closed. Mathilde was nowhere to be seen. It was just Safin and Primo and a handful of soldiers in the garden, around the perimeter.
Where is Mathilde?
She was not feeling well, Safin said. Primo told me she hasn't been sleeping regularly. I offered to give her some tea but she refused. So we will let her sleep for a time.
Madeleine looked at Primo who gave her the slightest incline of the head.
Then Safin was right in front of her.
What happened to your hand?
I cut myself.
Safin took her hand in his, meticulous. His brow furrowed. How did you manage this?
I wasn't thinking. I dropped one of your plates and cut myself cleaning it up.
Safin looked at her closely. Why were you cleaning? That is for the help to do.
I thought it would be right. I did not intend to offend you, or your help.
Primo was coming up behind them.
Safin understood what was happening a second too late. Primo was the larger man and he grabbed Safin by the back of the collar, pinned his arms behind him with little effort.
Madeleine looked at Safin. His teeth bared. In her other hand she gripped the shard of china so tightly she'd drawn blood. He opened his mouth to speak.
She slashed at his naked throat in one jagged movement. Blood spattered down her chest and forearm. His mouth opened but all that came out was a congested gurgle. Madeleine shut her eyes.
For some reason the soldiers were not rushing to eliminate them.
Primo let him fall limp to the ground. Madeleine did not look.
These men answer to me, said Primo. Safin gave me that authority. I instructed the to give Mathilde a light sedative. Right now she is only sleeping. She will wake up in an hour or two none the wiser to this.
Just then, Bond and the other 007 rounded the corner. Madeleine looked at them and they looked at her and the woman said softly, Shit.
Madeleine, said Bond, but she was already with Primo.
It's over, said Madeleine.
Not yet. We have to shut this down. 008, with me.
Nomi glanced at Madeleine once before joining Bond up the stairs into the heart of the facility.
Hours later, when the island was disarmed and they were all on a helicopter back to Europe, Mathilde was sleeping in her mother's arms.
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Wip Title Tag Game
@aschlindartroom, so my titles are boring on my original work, but the titles are pretty hilarious on my hangman fanfic, so enjoy. Although I'm also going to include that short story.
Rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous they are. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it. and then tag as many people as you have wips. (you can make your own post or reblog this one!)
The Anticipation is the Part that Kills You
It's All Fun and Games Til the Ground Disappears From Beneath Your Feet
Breakneck Speed Just Means You’re Doing Your Job Right
Eventually, Someone’s Gotta Just Pull The Damn Lever
How Does a Hangman Dress for a Funeral?
Tying a Noose is Easy, Getting it Around the Other Guy’s Neck is the Hard Part
It’s a Faithful Tool, That Gravity
Also my current life ruiner:
The Suneater
No pressure: @brabe, @floydsin, @jakeseresins
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transmasc-wizard · 2 years
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Ok okokokokoo of all the revenge in "secret" wip which is the kept deserved/satisfying
ohhh thats a hard one
so. first up. Hemlock's is the least deserved lmao. it's funny to me from a non-thematic perspective. basically, he tried to up his crime game, failed, got arrested, and now is literally just doing the same crime (vault robbery) to the same guy entirely out of spite. (from a thematic perspective there is actually Stuff i will examine but like. if you turn off your brain. hehe funny theres NO deep reason he's doing this)
but for the actual most deserved: Victory, i think, Lei being close second. Victory's revenge is against their brother--they just want to tear down everything he has. the painting they're stealing is more symbolic than anything. they want him to remember what he did to them. (basically, he let the youngest brother die in order to keep his wealth.)
Lei's--taking over the crown from the king who killed her family--is also really satisfying, but it being less personal on one side (the king doesn't even know he exists) makes it more.... sad and angry, than anything. her life was ruined and the life-ruiner isn't even aware. vs with victory, it's the white-hot burning triumph of getting back at someone who knows exactly what they did to deserve it.
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littlewalken · 1 month
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feb 20
And we all agreed that no one would ever tell Peter Noone what Oh You Pretty Things was really about, ever, and the world was a better place for it.
Okay, finally had 24 hours here. First off The Pile was dealt with in a combination of stacking it more properly to take up less space, sorting a portion of it in to like items, and creating a different pile of at least two beach wagon loads of things that can go because we don't need them here or haven't needed or used them since we left the blue carpet house.
We're down to one iron, the nice purple and stainless steel one from this century. We're down to one small cube shaped ice chest, the one with a spout, still have bigger ones and thermal bags we're more inclined to use. I accept that part of it was because our greedy cousins kept the ice chests we had with us when we were homeless.
Once upon a time we needed sandwich keepers in three different colors, with matching thermoses that didn't get used as much, but now we don't. They get to go. That does mean replacement sandwich keepers but that's nothing.
It was firmly stated and agreed upon that I will purposefully go cold before I even look at a fleece jacket that the Life Ruiner wore a lot and... I thought her trash had been gotten rid of when we moved in to the shit shack.
Things have been packed up for so long I forgot I had killer whales in my bathroom at the blue carpet house.
But the Sesame Street cake pans are in the same place at the same time now, did just recently get Bert and Earnie, and now I want to hang them on the wall to display them.
One idea I have is to get some pegboard sheets, place them against the wall, have a short shelf or something in front of them to hold them up, and... I don't think it's exactly in the rules but with this place we're definitely going for a no holes in the walls poster putty everything approach.
And I found some of the record albums I want to frame and display, I thought the Shock Treatment soundtrack had that thing where the cover gets worn in a round pattern by the record, it's fine. I need to count the singles and the doubles so I know how many of each to get. My posters are here but I'm not flattening the ones I want to use out until after all the stuff is here because I'd need room to get around the work table I'd put them on.
Was just about to go astronaut time on a project yesterday but I need to be in contact to expedite the sorting and getting rid of non personal objects we have too many of right now.
Did get to some working out different ideas for Grease 2 in Imagination Land tho :)
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jimbloom68 · 2 months
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Tuesday, December 24, 2013
CONCLUSIVE NEGATIVE INTENT-1994
Kurt said it was a very special privilege for a lessor  to be amongst my Bettors at The Ranch and that i must make myself as non- descript as possible during my visits
as being not even a Level 3 I could clog The Others "Enway" (neural intake and neural emmitance) with my baggage  and emotional Enrot (neural rot) that still clung to me from several lifetimes of positioning myself amongst so many Ruiners..
I had to wear a number two around my neck during my visits so others would know to stay far away from me as Enrot has a way of spreading itself around.infecting others.
but Kurt said The Bettors knew about debts
and some of them were in my position with owing more than they were putting in although they might want to pretend otherwise.
money meant everything and nothing at all to The New Way
while they didn't believe in
a system based on man made exchanges (money)
they had to nonetheless "play the game'
and fight the fight
with the system set in place by Ruiners
and that meant MONEY.and lots .of It according to Gary Rainy
"It's the only THING they understand...Money
it's the only thing that can show THEM that we mean Business
and that's Business!" he said in one of his lectures.
but ,"Just because WE have to get our hands dirty with coins and currency that by it's very nature has been fondled and handled by so many Ruiners
that it was in our best interest to ,"hand it over to people who were ore advanced and would not be re-contaminated by Imprints and Enrot  left by
Ruinatious fingers..who ONLY think MONEY MONEY MONEY
Kurt and Jessica explained  that money kept The New Way
in The Frontline...
that buying and developing  real estate for instance  showed detractors they weren't playing with no Johnny Hayseed here.
the physical plant of the annex centers had to be reinforced by buying up the buildings and some of the people in the building's goodwill..
Kurt explained that keeping up "The Rainy Ranch" where "the officers" and "administrators" kept up the state of Everyday Affairs and made sure The Words of GR were kept up to date  and  the videos and tapes of his lectures and books were processed and translated into many languages...so that even
third world or backward nations could eventually learn "How to be" and "how to progress on The TruGenic Scale" of Evolution.
At the Ranch  most of my Bettors ignored me.
moreso
Alot of them made a show of holding their noses if they saw me walk by
.as any Neuronaut below a Level 6 was said to stink of Ruinership
-did they not remember when they themselves were lower on the Trugenic scale of being? I could not help thinking as I dug and dug  the holes for both the Koi Pond and The Fountain
I tried not to take offense when i was asked to move my bed outside the dormitory
so i would not infect My Bettors in the bunk with EMMITANCES
."A bettor is a Bettor is a Bettor,"GR said,shrugging  and smiling,in one of the videos  I watched when I was a Level 1 Non Clonclusive,"ain't nothing a Lessor  could  do about it, accept try to glean a little HIGHER MINDNESS from mentorship
Maybe that was it.
i was gleaning too much at the compound
I had never been around so many bettors in my life..Everyone was at the very least  a Level 5 CONCLUSIVE
.i was used to being amongst the Lessors  at the Annex in Hollywood
.I came away each Sunday from the ranch in the van that brought me there exhausted,covered with dirt
feeling envy,
self pity and more Ruinerous than ever.
and don't think My Mentors  didn't sense IT.
I was called TO RANKS immediately ,Kurt said people were saying
i was sending ENROT into the air quite purposely and" made a face "
at Evan Rainy
I told Kurt I had never even seen anyone in the house .or a little boy named Evan
Kurt told me Evan was my age
and Evan reported to his father Gary Rainy that he had seen me  make a face at him from his third floor window.
"I was digging holes.I was gruntingI sure as hell wasn't staring at any windows."
Kurt said maybe that made it worse
that the "face I made" at Evan Rainy was in my UNCONSCIOUS NATURE
"are you against The Rainy Family? are you against The New Way? They asked
"I'm just tired.is all...and felt i was treated with little respect "
"Oh ..You went to the Rainy Ranch not to beautify the grounds but to be respected and bowed down to?'
'Of course not i said ,perhaps too harshly"
They said I was acting Very DISGRUNTLED CONCLUSIVE.And confirmed this scientifically by sticking my pinky into the Pinky Slot.A plastic and metal box with a hole in it large enough for someone's pinky finger  enter so that it made contact with  electronic bio sensors that measured one's  "pitch" and "key" inside themselves and thus put outside themselves into  the Harmonic Neural Vicinity.
My "mopi-ness" and "Overt Disgruntle-ism" cost me both financially and emotionally.
Kurt and Jessica said i had "SLIPPED"profoundly
the Pinky Ring Harmonic detector  they said almost went off the charts  gaging all my CONCLUSIVE NEGATIVE INTENTS
and perhaps i should stop my Level 3 classes
and "get back to basics" by taking a refresher Level 1 course
and a "redo"of my entire  Level Twos.
Kurt said I could not "waste EVERYBODY'S Time continuing with Level 3 until
my INVENTORY OF  INTENT was RE-audited and RE -cataloged
"someone must have let you slip by..." was the message.
And Now
to pay for my half completed Level Threes
as well as  my Levels 1 and 2
i was asked to move to  The King's Cross Motel basement to  make beads and baskets
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falsifies · 5 months
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https : // falsifies . tumblr . com screenplay and story by five. featuring an original character based in the crime genre, with themes of: revenge, obsession, and deception. general rules apply [ ... ] please read this if you haven't already. this blog will include content unsuitable for minors and is 21+ (unless we're friends). more information regarding content warnings and the character is under the cut. discretion is advised. (affiliated with @dogrots)
PINTEREST. TUNES. SIDEBLOG.
content warnings: heavy serpent/snake imagery, violence and what can come with it (blood, gore, death), murder, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, strong language, possible blasphemy / the mocking of religion (namely catholicism and christianity), mentions of suicide (pertaining to npcs), suggestive / usfw themes.
disclaimer: dima is not a good person, and no amount of "true love" (platonic, romantic, etc.) will change this. he manipulates people into doing what he wants, and there is always a level of manipulation in any of his relationships. he has killed people, and manipulates people into killing others and/or themselves; he's a life-ruiner for many - enjoys having this power over people - and doesn't plan on ever stopping.
name, dmitri o'rourke (more commonly known as dima or, for those in the criminal world, hamlet). age, usually portrayed in his early to mid thirties (though i'm not opposed to writing younger dima). identity, unlabeled (he/him, doesn't mind any gendered or non-gendered terminology) + bisexual and greyromantic. occupation, professional photographer + conman. languages, russian and english are his dual first languages, ukrainian, french, italian, spanish, latin, and greek; knows a little of a lot of others.
his main verse takes place after he's killed the mastermind of a heist group he was invited into (after a successful enactment of their plan), after learning he had something to do with the death of his late fiancé (who may be mentioned in threads). most of the group believe he was killed by a known enemy of his, but the mercutio and desdemona of the group know the truth.
dima is the biological son of an assassin, who was the handler and "mother" to another boy she picked up off the street. he was born under the radar, no birth certificate, nonexistent -- every piece of paperwork he has currently was forged by himself. the only reason dima wasn't immediately taken out after running to the u.s. is because of his mother, his "brother," and his own skill.
* if you'd like to know more, just shoot me a message or an ask. if we're mutuals, you can also add me on discord (thehorrors.). a full bio and pages on npcs & the like will be up sometime in the future, but for now, any more information will pop up in rambles posts, ic posts, or during chatting / plotting.
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thegenealogy · 9 months
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1 Chronicles 11. "The Age of David Gilead."
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David Becomes King Over Israel.
11 All Israel came together to David at Hebron  and said, “We are your own flesh and blood. 2 In the past, even while Saul was king, you were the one who led Israel on their military campaigns. And the Lord your God said to you, ‘You will shepherd my people Israel, and you will become their ruler.’”
The Phillistines bury their dead in the Dry Fountain, but all Israel comes to life in Hebron, "the Perpetual Fountain, the Heap of Testimony."
If Har Gilboah, the Circular age of Agony belongs to them, then the Age of David Gilead belongs to all Israel:
3 When all the elders of Israel had come to King David at Hebron, he made a covenant with them at Hebron before the Lord, and they anointed David king over Israel, as the Lord had promised through Samuel.
The Genmatria for Samuel is "Seal of God". The Seal is like a passport for Wandering Jews that allows them to enter the King's Gate:
The Jew further points to the staff in his arm. In order to preserve his faith, he was forced time and time again - for 2000 years - to take the wandering staff in his arm, abandon his home, wealth and security, and seek out new territory where he could continue to live as a Jew.
The Hebrew term for "and the staff", "v'hamateh", has the same numerological value as the word "the vessel", "hakeli", symbolic of the menorah in which we kindle the Chanukah flames. Hence, this verse is alluding to the three components of the Chanukah lights: the menorah, the wick and the oil - all of which testify to the eternal allegiance of the Jew to G‑d.
"Identify, I beg you, these objects. Who is the owner of this seal, cord and staff?" the Jew asks G‑d. "It is to this man that I am pregnant!" Our loyalty and commitment remain eternally to the owner of the "seal" and "cord" of the Chanukah flames; our deepest intimacy is reserved to the owner of the "staff" of Jewish wandering.
We discussed the curation of the wares and expertise needed to maintain the holy regalia and storehouses of treasures and their meanings in the previous sections and why pregnancy from one of their owners is a requirement for Jews.
David Conquers Jerusalem
4 David and all the Israelites marched to Jerusalem (that is, Jebus the ruiners). The Jebusites who lived there 5 said to David, “You will not get in here.” Nevertheless, David captured the fortress of Zion—which is the City of David.
The Jebusites are one of a class of ruiners, actually. From Ki Tessa:
10 Then the Lord said: “I am making a covenant with you. Before all your people I will do wonders never before done in any nation in all the world. The people you live among will see how awesome is the work that I, the Lord, will do for you. 11 Obey what I command you today. I will drive out before you the Amorites “warlike”, Canaanites “jealous people”, Hittites “broken”, Perizzites “uncivilized”, Hivites “licentious” and Jebusites “friendless, unfriendly” . 
12 Be careful not to make a treaty with those who live in the land where you are going, or they will be a snare among you. 13 Break down their altars, smash their sacred stones and cut down their Asherah poles [straight poles].[g]14 Do not worship any other god, for the Lord, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God.
6 David had said, “Whoever leads the attack on the Jebusites will become commander in chief.” Joab "Decided of the Father" son of Zeruiah "the Siege, the Balsam of God" went up first, and so he received the command.
7 David then took up residence in the fortress, and so it was called the City of David. 8 He built up the city around it, from the terraces[a] to the surrounding wall, while Joab restored the rest of the city. 9 And David became more and more powerful, because the Lord Almighty was with him.
Thus never began the Age of Endless Beauty, the Age of David Gilead. We have, Jew and non-Jew alike failed to heed the wishes of the Lord whose name is Jealous and thus have we withheld it from ourselves.
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lyssxxa · 1 year
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I seen a girl on tiktok saying how she has a makeup remover which burns her skin and it’s rubbish and she hates using it. But the reason she keeps using it is because the makeup remover is still there, there’s still some left. If she were to throw away the makeup remover she would have none and she would be forced to go to to buy new makeup remover. She said this applies to life. I have to be grateful that my ex put me through hell, tortured me the way he did, lied and cheated non stop to the point where it just kept getting worse and worse and he hurt me in the worst ways imaginable because otherwise I would have stayed with him. It had to get so bad that I couldn’t take it anymore and left him. Otherwise I would’ve been stuck with the narcissist for life/for as long as he wanted to keep abusing me until he discarded me for someone else. I’ve been lucky to escape at my age. I’ve wasted important years of my life but it could have been so much worse. I could be like his ex and be 30+ left with a child. These people are disgusting and professional life ruiners, no empathy at all, narcissistic abuse should be a crime. I seen statistics about how many people suffering from narcissistic abuse end up committing suicide and someone said narcissists are murderers who get away with it because they kill people slowly and emotionally not physically. It’s true.
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I don't hate being asked, 'How are you', but there's always a moment of pause before I answer where I do a quick mental dialectic about how honestly I should answer the question. 9 times out of 10, though I usually just settle on a vague non-answer like, 'fine', or, 'not bad', because it's very hard to gauge when exactly it is appropriate to go on a five minute spiel about how completely and thoroughly miserable I am in everything I do, how this has been the worst year of my life and it's barely halfway through April, how my social anxiety keeps getting worse the more I isolate myself from the people I love, how it's all become a vicious cycle where I find myself unable to reach out to to my friends who then assume I'd rather be left alone, how I am now illegal as a person in over half of my goddamn country, not to mention, even, that I haven't even started HRT because if the thought of asking a friend to hang out is enough to trigger a panic response in me then there's no way in hell I'd be able to make a single goddamn appointment, and how my job sucks and my coworkers are all bigoted idiots who I dare not interact with for fear of revealing something that they might ostracize me for or worse, but this is the best job I can feasibly get and I need to keep it since I'm the only one in my apartment who can consistently make their share of rent on time, and the list goes on and on and on.
Just seems a bit rude to drop that kind of a day-ruiner on someone's lap, sight unseen, y'know?
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moleofmetal · 2 years
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GIG REVIEW: Distorted: Catalysis 'Innova' EP Launch Party + Special Guests - July 2
GIG REVIEW: Distorted: Catalysis ‘Innova’ EP Launch Party + Special Guests – July 2
Featuring guest commentary from JCHC Zine (Jute City Hardcore)https://www.facebook.com/events/1000370500662888Bands: Truth Ruiner, A Life Without You, The Jungle Cats, Solar Sons, Catalysis Covid finally got me! My, perhaps, cavalier attitude towards mask-wearing at gigs lately is to blame as at this show I picked up the dreaded lurgy. Luckily though I manage to recover and become non-infectious…
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beatlesonline-blog · 2 years
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realhankmccoy · 2 years
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Almost Public Enemy No. 1 as far as a lot of Americans are concerned. They point it out but then I block them and you rarely hear a peep about their next rodeo. The question is: who are they honing in on as 'problematic' when it's not allowed to be me? Somebody, for certain. But they do get a bit more sheepish about publically announcing precisely who...
I haven't heard that I'm a destroyer of worlds from any non-Americans yet, but perhaps people in most countries just aren't as astutely intelligent and able to create a warm safe place of kindness as Americans? Americans are the smartest, right? Smarter than smart? I think Americans, who know Americans as a collective are stupid, thus think that they themselves must be exempt and be 'smart'. Then they run around calling themselves 'smart'. Or they call themselves 'stupid' because they feel like reverse psychology or opposite games are smart. You can count on games if Americans are involved. Hurtful games.
Also intriguingly stupid how Americans throw a fit when I expect themselves to act nice, but at the same time throw a fit that I apparently am not nice to everyone in my record-breaking streak of destroying every life. Thus, they attempt to mandate it, but take severe umbrage at the notion that their special snowflake self is also a part of this 'we' and 'us' and must also follow suit, and how dare I even request it? This is what is known as basic hypocrisy.
It's strange how Blue Americans think they don't act as American as Americans get. They also get this notion in their head, when they want to say things are better in Europe, that Europeans do it this way... but all they ever come up with is an American notion of what Europeans are. For exampe, I met one who thought it is European not to smile (he prob. just was in some awful asshole parts of Germany) so he stoppd smiling to prove he was better than Americans. That just made him look a lot more like a number of big honchos in private equity, honestly. There's always a sick 'better than you' game running through the American head. Americans know me for the ruiner that I am -- whenever I hear Ruiner by NIN I must remember that this person is me -- because they're such 'serious' and 'adult' people I guess. Watch out, world, for my next move. I'm sure it will cripple everybody entirely and devaste everyone.
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