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catofoldstones · 2 months

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hi i'm still here :) those things about fandom denying theorizing about jonsa just bothered me heavily since fans accepted almost every theory under the sun but hypothetical j0nsa is where they draw the line they accepted curtain of light theory and 3 heads of the dragons saving the world for years before a hypothetical cousin marriage/bethrodal that ties a lot of plot threads and themes together and resolves so much of the missing plot pieces from the show, i might not personally like it cause of the incest implications but im also consistent with hating all jon's incest ships and still keeping an open mind about j0nerys and j0nsa on a storytelling basis but j0nsa is a theory that intrigued me so much because it did make sense from the drafts,the fact that sansa will end up at winterfell with the vale army by the time jon wakes up and changes into who knows what (again fans straight up ignoring which stark is actually the closest to winterfell will never not make me laugh) to the many gothic literature and historical references george takes to especially the ashford theory thats so unavoidable i call fans extremely blind for being this in denial that it might happen as a plot point and since aegon is most likely going to be busy with dorne/cersei/dany or euron and most likely die in the south (rip son) i highly doubt sansa will tie into his plot unless thats the last targ suitor she's supposed to be betrothed with and again its kinda a big nothing theory to me cause sansa going south would be repetitive and its already been debunked with the AFFC draft leaks unless aegon wants a claim to the north which again im pretty sure he'll be engaged to arianne for martell points and allyship (also her being engaged to a secret fake bastard heir was already done with joffrey and it being completely reversed with j0n feels more complete as an end point to that theory/arc there's no way george would pass that up).

i also don't think this is all jon and sansa have to offer as characters,its what bothers me with other ship fans as well i like them as separate characters and i also feel like looking at the story, if it were to happen i don't believe it would be a fairytale romance or ending or be anytype of normal relationship, i might even be completely wrong and j0nsa might never come up (also feel like george would be wary of doing this now when media literacy is at an all time low but fandom toxicity is high as the heavens), both sansa and jon fandom theories have been through a rollercoster over the years im just happy that fans finally have theories that actually makes sense storytelling wise and not something for wish fulfillment but bias still runs amok in the fandom unfortunately and it still clouds a lot of convo about the characters and plot theories

sorry for rambling in your inbox again

Hello :3 nice to see you again

anon can I call you soulmate anon because every sentiment you’ve portrayed here is exactly what I believe too! I like jonsa too because it’s v compelling and it has good evidence to back it up, but I’m really iffed up because of the incest too. Well not because I’m a pearl-clutching puritan but because it’s not fair to Sansa tbh, as a teenaged girl in a deeply patriarchal society. If she’s the girl in grey who runs away to Jon for protection, it’ll not be as a friend who’s seeing another friend after a long time, it’ll be because she wants protection from her brother. Then comes in the question of her claim to Winterfell. If she marries Jon to smooth out the inheritance crisis, the North would still belong to Jon & not Sansa. They will not be equal in that marriage or as the lord and lady of Winterfell. However, there are far, far too many indications of a jonsa match, textually and subtextually, which I am right there with you anon, are so compelling! It would only be a blind man to not see them. And the fandom collectively vehemently denying jonsa is v funny to me because it sounds so much like

“Do you believe women are humans?”

“Yes”

“Do you believe women should have the same rights as men?”

“Yes, absolutely!”

“So you are a feminist.”

“Eww, no.”

Like, the text is glaringly pointing at something with air raid sirens and neon red lights, but what could it mean, hmm 🤔 Like c’mon guys my cat could figure out what’s going on at this point.

Though, I do believe that the Ashford Targaryen suitor could be Aegon VI for Sansa. While a lot of people believe that Aegon will marry/betrothe Arianne for that Dorne support but that doesn’t make sense to me because

1. It’s like Sansa would marry into the Tully family for support to take back the North

2. The Dornish are already burning to avenge Elia

3. Arianne is the heir to Dorne in her own right (and has had major plot around that), marrying the next King of the 7 kingdoms hardly makes sense for her.

BUT Aegon & Arianne’s plots are barreling towards each other and they very well might just get married to secure another plot point that I cannot think of right now. And I know that Aegon is doomed and Arianne survives (George, pls or else 🔪🔪) so that’s another reason why Aegon & Sansa can’t happen. And Jon being the Targeryen suitor holds so much more literary weight than a rando who has never had an impact on her or her emotions or her plot (apart from your brilliant points). Also, no I am not debating the “Dunk disturbed the Ashford Tourney so Sxn/dxr is the one for Sansa” because we’ve debated to death that even being granted the title of Maid does not mean anything like a betrothal in Westerosi society or has negative consequences (r + l & that whole war it started). Also, just because Dunk got in the middle of the Tourney does not mean that he got the girl in the end. Hope that helps. Moreover, Dunk’s asoiaf corollary is Brienne not sxn/dxr, so by their logic, briensa ftw!!!!!!!!!!

Anon, the way everyone ignored the affc outline just because it showed something the Sansa fandom had been (rightly) theorising for years now has me rolling on the floor 😂 the denial, the denial is so strong with these people, even the “neutrals”. Don’t even get me started on the BNFs. If something like this were leaked about xrya or dxny, it would have been front page news that breaks the asoiaf fandom containment lol.

Stark closest to Winterfell and takes north! C’mon now anon, don’t give these people a heart attack.

Yes well, there have been one too many people in this fandom (as is common in any other fandom *cough* jxnxryas *cough*) to reduce the characters to the ship but the block button is my lord and saviour. Shipping is so that we can bring out the best (or the worst) character traits in the people we’re shipping, not to water down the said character traits.

There’s a chance that jonsa doesn’t happen in the books or happens just in the subtext or whatever, and I’ll be fine with that as long as the stories for both Jon and Sansa have satisfying and empathetic progression. Though I would terribly like for it to happen just to dunk on the haters and the BNFs and the “skeptics” lol. I am trying to be a better person these days, but pettiness is my second daughter 🤪 and to add to this point, if jonsa doesn’t happen, that still won’t erase the heavy foreshadowing we’ve been seeing in the text till now. If some other ship had the Ashford theory, the Byronic connection, JONnel Stark marrying a girl named xrya or an ancestor Sansa Stark marrying a -whoever- in their lineage, the plot satisfaction, the narrative parallels, the textual connection, it would be considered canon by now. But no, since it’s Jon x Sansa and that is still somehow a pretty strong contender for breaking all your ships, they will close their eyes and call it a crack ship. Baby a crack ship is me and Oscar Isaac or Sasuke and Taylor Swift. But if Sasuke and Taylor had all of this evidence, it would, once again, be considered canon. Sigh, just take your Sansa hatred elsewhere man, we’re not in 2006 anymore.

Dude, I found older forums/metas a while back and there is nowhere that Sansa was mentioned w/o sxn/dxr. Sxn/sxn was just a given. It was canon, it was always going to happen and that’s just so reductive tbh. I’m v v grateful that the meta and fandom spaces (maybe just a small corner but that is enough for me) have evolved so much through the years otherwise I would get beaten here every day. It’s still toxic as hell though, with the level of trash metas that will give early asoiaf fandom a run for its money and at one point you just want to scream- you all realise that these are books, right? and we’re the readers! you’re not dxny or jon or tyrion or even fleabottom ragpickers! none of this is real 😭 i should not be coming here, armoured and with a sword, to defend my fav characters, i should be having fun here and exchanging stupid ideas 😭 but asoiaf fandom remains asoiaf fandom however well the ways of hating may have changed.

But please, always ramble in my ask box anon. I love reading your thoughts and it gives me a chance to ramble as well :)

#soulmate anon #anon asks t #jonsa #anti sansan #the rambling option is open to everyone btw #long post #don’t look

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astronomyandfrogs · 1 year

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𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄.

unpopular opinion: joel miller might not be a people pleaser, but can for sure please his own woman.

tw: smut, sloppy fucking, 🐱 eating, fingering, porn with a bit of plot. the reader is called with a nickname (peach). [1.6k]

the room is pitch dark. your mind is still half asleep, while your body is wide awake. laying on your back, you feel his stubble pinching your neck and his breath tickle your cheek.

there were no clocks in the room and the only present watch stopped working years ago. you didn’t know what time it is, but you knew that you still had at least two hours — perhaps even longer — till sunrise. the air is still and the only sound is the high pitched vibration of the fridge in the corner.

before the outbreak, you used to live in a huge and loud city. at night you always heard people walk around or chat under your window or public transports stop at the station around the corner and teenagers cheer for the properly executed mission with the fake id. now, with this suffocating quietness, you feels like you are trapped in the limbo.

you move closer to joel, pressing your hand on his back to pull his weight on you, to feel something. you squeeze him, but it doesn’t bother the peaceful sleep of the man lying on you.

your eyes are starting to get used to the lack of light and you can now see the shape of his face. almost instinctively, you move your hand to trace his jawline with your fingertips. the five-days-freshly-cut beard is starting to regain its usual length.

you continue to trace his face line, moving to his ears and then to his hair. you sense your body relax and your mind being at ease once again. ironically, your eyes close at the exact moment that his eyes open.

he know that you’re awake, but you don’t know that he is awake.

your thumb brushes his moustache, which, to the touch, is much rougher than the other spots of the beard. and then there are his lips. oh, those lips.

from far away, to someone who never touched them, they seem dry. but once you get closer to them, once you get to bite and lick them, the plumpness and softness are obvious. and from that moment on that knowledge taunts you, it becomes an obsession.

then his weight is lifted from your body, and you feel a sudden loss, an absence.

his eyes — big puddles of obsidian in the night, bright rays of amber in the light — are peering on you. you smile as joel’s brushes his lips on yours.

one of the first intimate act you shared. at the time, it was just a silent confession, a simple act of intimacy that reviled the roots of something deeper. but now it’s a reminder of where you came from and of the things you achieved.

“still awake, peach?” he asks. joel’s voice is low and husky — your shifting had clearly woken him up. his free hand (the one that wasn’t keeping him still on his side) is on your waist, firm and anchored.

“didn’t mean to wake you up” you say. he doesn't say anything, he doesn't bother to reply, but the look in his eyes means something close to if i wanted to go back to sleep i would’ve. knowing his sleeping habits, he probably wasn’t even sleeping.

“i hate this fucking place at night,” you confess “the way everything is silent and still, like out of time, stick in a loop in which there is no possible way out”.

you take a deep breath and continue “sometimes my mind makes up sound for this emptiness and i wake up hearing them around us, and even when i am conscious and awake, i still can hear them”.

he doesn't need to ask who 'them' are, he knows, he dreamed the clickers himself dozens of times.

he wraps his arms around you and buries your head in his neck. you smile tenderly, grateful to be understood. you shift and move closer to him, but your knee accidentally brushes against his crouch.

“really?” you comment “is my existential crisis turning you on?”.

“you are the one half naked in my bed” he argues “and you also don’t look too bad right now”.

“i look pretty in the dark,” she giggles “how romantic”.

he rolls his eyes, jokingly. his hands slides all over your body, brushing your neck, your side and your waist, leaving shivers and goosebumps on the sensitive skin.

you wraps your legs around his hips, a clear invitation which he immediately takes without hesitation. for a brief moment his deep dark eyes are looking straight in yours — displayed beneath him you look vulnerable and magnificent, your cheeks are coloured with a pinch of red and your breathing is already irregular.

when he kisses you, just as each and every time, your heart detonates like a bomb, but the explosion isn't generated by violence and hatred. it's born from lust and, perhaps, love.

his skin is hot under your hands and you can feel his firm muscles as you grip on them. still fully clothed, you grind on him. you can't help it, in some kind of need of release.

“so fucking greedy” he murmurs as one of his hands cups your butt to steady the rhythm.

when he moves and the friction fades, you wine. but he lowers himself, till his body is right between your legs.

your thighs are spread wide, have to be with how broad he is beneath you, and you can already foresee the difficulties you’ll later have with walking.

you raise your hips, and with one quick (and experienced) motion, he removes your bottoms and panties.

his tongue was quick to reach his destination and you moan at the new sensation, as euphoria floods your body.

he's sucking, biting and fucking his tongue into you. his hands on your legs, keeping them in place. your legs begun to twitch, coming closer and closer to the orgasm.

“you always taste so good, peach” he praises.

he eats you out like a starved man, like it’s his last day on earth and you are his last meal. he licks every inch of your cunt like it depends on his life.

you shove your head in the pillow as you came, your hand on your mouth to cover your moans.

he continued the deed unbothered. his hands rooted on your legs, keeping them open for him. a few hours later, tiny bruises will emerge on the skin of your legs, right in the places were he is holding you still.

“i want your fingers, joel” you beg.

“one more time on my tongue, baby, can you do that for me?” he demands.

yes, you think, yes, i can. with your hand, you shove his head closer to you skin, if that even is possible, while continuing to rock his mouth — up and down, up and down. your heart slams on your sternum.

joel eats you out like a tormented man downed in his sins, who's only possible chance of atonement is being buried between your legs. and god, he might as well be a saint.

he loves the smell and the taste. he loves the wetness and the warmth. he loves your moans and your whispers.

you arch your back towards him and you came again, this time harder and louder.

“good girl” he whispers. he doesn’t let you replay, since, as promised, he slips his fingers inside of you and finally clench around him, who's fill every inch of you and reach every inch of you.

his fingers curve on your g-spot and you might have just woken up half the qz, but, at this point, they probably got used to it.

“fuck, joel” you cry “it's too much”.

“do you want me to stop?” he asks. as you look down at him, you shake your head furiously. he grins and presses his lips on your clit to leave a chaste kiss on it, as he keeps pumping his fingers inside of you, restlessly.

“i can't wait to be inside you” joel confesses.

“no one is stopping you, handsome” you can feel his quite giggle on your clit, which produces a wave of ecstasy in your veins.

with your eyes closed, all you can hear is the sound of his fingers going in and out of you, soaking even more. your muscles contract once more and you came again, with his name on your lips.

he is again on top of you, his fingers — the ones that were in your cunt just a few second ago — are covered with your wetness.

“open up” he orders. you follow his instructions and he presses his fingers on your tongue. your own taste is sweet, a lot sweeter then what joel's testes like. it is pleasing.

no wonder he's pussy drunk all the time, you think.

as you kiss each other, you know that his lips are glossy from your cum — they have the same taste of his fingers — and, as you pictured his lips covered with your wetness, a shock of pleasure floods you. as you bit on his lips, he growls and you mewl.

he slips in you without warning. his mouth on yours quietens the moan. he pulling out almost all the way and then pushing back with one hard move. and again, and again, and each move knocks the air out of your lungs.

“you are so fucking warm, peach”.

you know he was talking to you — praising you — but at this point you were beyond understanding.

fill me up, joel.

you doesn't know if you only thought it or if you said it out loud. either way, he comes in you with one hard trust as he bites down on your neck.

you stay in this position for a while, joel on top and still inside of you, crushing your body. but it doesn't bother you nor him. you love his body on yours, and he is very well aware.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #🖇️.writing #🖇️.joelmiller #🖇️.thelastofus

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snorlaxlovesme · 3 months

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what is your favorite line/section of your sick CXS fic? It is so good and I love when authors can share some of their thoughts!

i feel so spoiled with these messages from you, thank you for being so kind my godd

(aforementioned sickfic)

it's hard to choose favorite lines bc genuinely i do love the whole fic so much. a lot of the time i'm writing off the cuff and it just flows out of me in one or two sittings (it's why i'm a one-shot writer) but this was a story that took me months to complete because of all the planning involved (and absolutely fruitless research into Chinese herbal soups, since literally NONE of that research made it into the fic lmao) and so the whole thing feels really special and different from my other stories just because of how much thought was put into it.

it took a long time, but i adored writing the second half, getting to write the same day over again and try to make it identical while FEELING totally different. having Lu Guang totally in pieces over every little change he accidentally makes to the timeline was mwaa *chef's kiss*

i think my favorite line was what i eventually pulling from to make the summary on AO3

"Lu Guang is so tired. He wishes he could freeze this conversation, this whole day, and go nap for a thousand hours. The stress of it all is sucking the marrow from his bones. He wishes he could do today over again. He doesn’t know if he’d have the strength to do today over again."

idk i just feel like it really encapsulates the struggle Lu Guang goes through in this fic and might literally go through on a day to day basis trying to re-live the timeline. like i'm sure every misstep feeling like something Lu Guang would want to do over, but how many times can he handle that, emotionally? like this day mentally broke him and it's literally the most nothing day. Lu Guang forgot to make one phone call and almost suffered cardiac arrest because of it.

plus its very sweet that Cheng Xiaoshi, sick as a dog and feeling down on himself for being left alone all day, comforts Lu Guang after this moment because he can see Lu Guang is going through like a panic-induced existential crisis and mistakes it for Lu Guang ALSO feeling ill, sweet boy ♥

i also really liked the simplicity of these lines (it includes spoilers so look away if you wanna read the fic first. )

But Lu Guang thinks of the tear-streaked smile after Cheng Xiaoshi took that first bite. Spending every waking moment agonizing over his next step won’t get him anywhere. Instead, Lu Guang folds up that smile and tucks it into a corner of his mind for safekeeping. Cheng Xiaoshi thanked him for today. Maybe that is enough.

that part wasn't in the original draft. these lines are in response to CXS thanking Lu Guang for caring for him and i think i had a bit of prose where LG internally laments that he spent half the day ignoring CXS and only took care of him when it was clear Qiao Ling wasn't going to be able to, so the thanks wasn't really deserved. or something self deprecating like that

i had sent my "final draft" to a friend after revising some bits in the flashback and said "i wanna post it but i feel like i need to mess with the ending still. it feels off" my friend insisted what i had was great but i didn't know if the last line of the fic ("Timeline be damned") felt earned. Lu Guang had been a slave to the timeline for the entirety of the story, allowing him to kind of/sort of say "fuck you" to the timeline for a brief moment felt like it was going against everything i had just established, of how IMPORTANT keeping to the timeline was to Lu Guang for the sake of being able to save Cheng Xiaoshi in the future.

it was my friend that gave me the idea to write a simple thesis line that shows what Lu Guang has learned from this. that disaster is definitely a potential outcome in Lu Guang's crazy plan, but seeing Cheng Xiaoshi at peace is enough to make him want to try. like you said in your comment on the fic, if you went back in time, you'd want to be kinder. those lines are Lu Guang reminding himself that seeing CXS at peace has an emotional effect on Lu Guang as well.

ALSO idk the "fold up his smile and tucks it in his mind" bit is cute okay? it's a very cute sentence and i'm proud i wrote it lol

this is very long so i'm gonna stop rambling but again THANK YOU so much for asking me this and for all your sweet messages. i truly can't get over how wonderful it's been talking about this story with you, it's only made me love it more and i already thought it was my magnum opus lmao

#you: talk about your writing i'd love to hear your thoughts!#me: feels guilty somehow about doing exactly what you asked of me #mykingdomforapen #link click #kelly got an ask

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darkmagicmirror · 9 months

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I've been thinking about @spicyviren 's post about Claudia preventing the sun from rising (and they made a more in-depth post today as well, which is also very good!), so last night I got curious and Googled mythology and eclipses because what if the eclipse actually happens and it's not just Viren's dream? And we know TDP likes mythological references. So...

This is so fascinating because of the "I swallowed her" comment Aaravos makes in Janai's dream.

A demon (or dragon, or-- (etc)) is eating the sun?

(*Personally, I don't think Janai's dream is necessarily accurate for telling us what happened -- but Aditi getting "eaten" by someone especially a dragon wouldn't surprise me.)

And speaking of "swallowing"...

And some of the other mythological explanations mentioned in the article I linked are also really interesting:

(The highlighting was done by Google, so it's not necessarily more important.)

And canon material, especially the Ripples short specifically, reflects a few themes here:

Abandonment - the humans are essentially abandoned by the stars (and the sun is a star): "It cannot be, wept others. The stars would not betray us!" - after the "star" falls from the sky and changes the land.

Crisis/existential threat - "With its impact came a long and terrible night: The earth bled! The seas churned! The sun and moon hid for weeks behind the sky’s screaming storm!" (Also bolded for emphasis because the sun hiding? The fact the moon does too is interesting, but the sun specifically is called out later: "And when the long, dark night had finally passed—for the sun must always rise, mustn’t it?" VERY interesting considering the sunrise mentions in S5.)

Eclipse as an act of creation - though much of the story talks about the calamity, there's also how "[the stars] had rejoiced to look down upon their newborn sea."

The Sun and Moon coupling and creating more stars - this is more of a stretch, but the Sun and Moon did get hidden together, and the Sea (of the Castout) serving as a mirror of the stars... like they're duplicating the stars, though only in image.

Mischievous acts - I personally think Aaravos is mischievous, so hmm.

One side note on the second-to-last point: if Viren learns the Star arcanum, which is very rarely understood, could that, too, be analogous to creating another star?

Anyway this all implies that perhaps a similar eclipse occurred before, when Aaravos had fallen and the Sea of the Castout was created? And we know how the Rise Again short story, which is about her pseudo-resurrection of her pet cat, correlated to S4 opening with Claudia having brought her father back to life, sort of in a repeating history sense. Aaravos's Patience story foreshadowed the fact that all he could do in S4 is wait and bide his time. Ripples could foreshadow S5 being that first "touch" that sets off greater change... and, like with the resurrection, perhaps history repeating itself, in a sense, with a potential upcoming eclipse?

And another interesting line: "The sky opened its maw and spat from its black jaws a tiny star."

It's not exactly black, but I know some people say the ridges here look like teeth...

Also, even though Sol is referring to his blindness, these lines about the Sun "never [rising] again" and an "eternal night" fit into similar themes to the eclipse and the Ripples short.

Also, just going back to the abandonment theme of the eclipse really quick--

The Midnight Star poem also talks about the stars abandoning humanity. "Elarion, unworthy whelp, / Wept as the stars turned black the sky, / They donned their masks / They turned their backs / And left Elarion to die."

(I have more to break down about that entire stanza in another post; I just want to point out the bolded parts for now.)

Now, most of these are references to the past... so what about now?

If I were to guess on how the same themes I compared to the Ripples story might apply to "current" series events...

Abandonment - Claudia feeling abandoned by Aaravos (as mentioned in the Lost Child short)? Or, alternately, Aaravos feeling abandoned (by either Claudia, after she had to flee from the battle, and/or Viren, after his rejection)?

Crisis/existential threat - IMO the biggest threat is Karim potentially joining up with Sol Regem right now. Though some would say Aaravos being close to being freed could be the threat/crisis here. But I'm an Aaravos apologist, so I am not part of that group LOL

Eclipse as an act of creation - Claudia regenerates her missing leg, perhaps?

The Sun and Moon coupling and creating more stars - Viren Star arcanum?

Mischievous acts - Aaravos again.

All of this to say-- I don't think the eclipse is just for show/because it looks cool, but if we consider the mythological beliefs surrounding eclipses, it ties in significantly to the story.

Also I leave you with a few last bits from the article that just remind me of TDP things:

"In many cultures, the darkening of the sun meant the gods were very, very angry with humanity, and about to inflict some punishment. Often, that meant that in order to appease them, you had to kill someone."

That reminds me of the stars seeming to punish humanity for daring to use magic... which is also when Aaravos gets cast down?

"The Greeks thought an eclipse meant that the gods were about to rain punishment down on a king, so in the days before an eclipse, they would choose prisoners or peasants to stand in as the king in the hopes that they’d get the eclipse punishment and the real king would be saved. Once the eclipse was over, the substitute king was executed."

This is so far off, but it reminds me of Harrow anyway? Mostly with the soulfang serpent idea of switching Harrow with someone else. Interesting.

"For the Inuits, the sun and moon weren’t a married couple but brother and sister. At the beginning of the world they quarreled, and the sun goddess Malina walked away from her brother, the moon god Anningan. Anningan continued to chase after her, and whenever he caught up to her, there was an eclipse."

Which reminds me of the line in Strangers, the short from Soren's perspective, where "Claudia had appeared and he’d done it again, a little boy chasing after his sister..."

A lot of it is probably coincidence, but it's still really interesting!

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thepowerisyouth · 2 months

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MONEY / FINANCE STRESS CONTENT WARNING, this next line is unfortunately quite stressful about money so this was an important warning for me to add:

This is also less for the random strangers on the internet who have no reason to trust my advice but more for the 10-15 people I know personally who trust my money advice based on prior experience and Ive sent them my blog link in the last month or two

US stock market is about to tank. On a global perspective its stupidly overpriced because markets like China are hitting 5 year lows (as in we've increased our stock market over 2x since "COVID lows", but their market is even lower than it was then.

Timing is hard but it is entirely possible yesterday was the peak of the market. Might also not tank for 6 months.

Market psychology is fucking weird tho so please absolutely dont 'short' anything, which is basically the same as 'buying puts'. Michael Burry nearly bankrupted all his friends, family, and random investors by insisting on 'shorting' things based on knowledge of impending crisis.

Just sell everything. I mean literally everything. Bond etfs might go up but youd have to have eyes glued to the charts to sell in time. Gold wont do, neither will bitcoin. Their negative correlation to stocks isnt really a thing anymore.

Get every etf, stock, whatever into cash in the brokerage account, then move it out of the banks/brokerage firms and into something physically in front of you because we are, in fact, in another 'historical period of bank runs' its just not quite at the peak yet.

Not trying to increase anxiety beyond nessecary-- its just that any, single bank can immediately freeze your money-- leaving it up to the Federal Government to pay you back-- and it might possibly be the case that youd have to rely on whats called a "bank bail in" to see your savings again.

Not a fun situation to be in, even if it wont happen to most people its just safe practice to do this during a "historical period of bank runs"

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This blog is basically my diary of my thoughts (suprise suprise). But Im an open book, privileged (but poor) little white boy with complex societal/generational abuse and very little home problems so lets fucking go theres a whole mormon cargo van to unpack

Definitely recommend tags Im terrible at them.

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To those reading this, if you have ever met me in real-life or on the internet than you have taught me varying degrees of information which can be randomly retrieved by my brain at any time depending on current CPU performance. Thoughts of my loving husband have occupied my headspace probably 95% of my time since 14 so he has absolutely taught me at least 100x more than anyone else in the world.

When I say "I", oftentimes Im thinking about "me and my husband", or even sometimes "me and my friends/family", or even sometimes "me and society"--- but I am not always 100% aware of the current headspace environment and/or beliefs of the minds of those around me without feedback

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There are currently over 8 billion individual varieties of the global human language spoken within the mind. Lets start translating them all. Misunderstood words become mean labels.

I fucking hate mean labels

"Math wiz" = racism and/or classism and/or gender shit. Fuck that shit

When a person is niched off into one part of an 8 billion population human society, it becomes impossible to not "live in a bubble". Bubbles change in size constantly even if not visibly observed. Bubbles can be different sizes depending on your current day-to-day thoughts of your own society. Bubbles must pop. Enlightenment implies life only gets better the more times ya pop and lock it

My path away from purely mathematics, logic, and scientific theory began when I met my husband, and for the first time in my life it became important to me not to be an asshole to everyone around me

Ive been told (only after I started dating my traumatized husband tho and helped him heal a lot) that I'm a natural communicator-- and all my life I found myself listening and learning to everything and everyone around me trying to understand both their and my own motivations-- then I like to garble them up and spit 'em out. My memory recall ability is wonky tho and fluctuates highly with nutrient intake-- I'll get into that later

I wish I could have a million years to read every blog on tumblr. I really do. Connecting & communating is extremely important for understanding one another but it takes time

I had an extremely unique childhood (who hasnt lol), enough so to isolate myself quite a lot through sheer dumb luck. My mom is also everyone's favorite school teacher so of course I was learning a lot from a young age. Luckily I glued myself to the first person who wanted to glue themselves to me equally & we grew exponentially closer to eternity

If its still not clear: my husband and I are bored and love chatting with people, but like most internet loving freaks my mouth don't work sometimes well but my fingies do. My ears got fluff a lot but I got eyes for LEDs like a hawk. Wish they werent LED tho

I also have a naturally short sleep cycle (i.e. extra time for this), and I really wont be offended or weirded out by someone reading through and liking 20+ or whatever of my posts at once randomly. Stories are supposed to be read in chunks, and I think of this blog as a story & also workspace for my thoughts that Id love to see which chapters everyone has read through. Also I love (and only respond positively to) positive feedback, yet also suggestions for ways to improve my "theorums". As in, good faith discussions are totally welcome on any post.

For my 50 year old parents reading my blog so lovingly in their limited evening time-- you can sort by tags to see what topics your familiar with, if you play around with the search function while on my page. Mom. Show dad how to do it

In the very, very bottom of my blog I dont even think I managed to tag shit properly-- but its the roughdraft workings of the philosophy, as well as my own logical framework for answering lifes questions. Its 2 months ago so I might not even be writing according to my own works down there anymore idk I change fast sometimes

Last thing for now here is that I was always criticized by teachers for not showing my work, and for not reviewing my tests before turning in, and I pushed back hard because nearly every time I went over and corrected a mistake-- I saw I most often got it right the first fucking time on a pure hunch. I act on impulse when I'm not meditating mostly for efficiency purposes because I believe I'm correct, but remain open to emotionally positive feedback so I can help remove all doubt.

-------

This might turn into my 'life story' post, as its already going there. Heres what I have so far in the way of my knowledge of my family before I was brought into existence, and my "earliest memories":

Family context:

I dont know jack shit. Nobody talks about it at all.

Here's my own observations Ive made using the framework and perceptive filters I was given--

My whole family is white Texans.

Ancestory is slaveowners of course, further back is a very likely direct parent-child descendent line from the most famous inbred british royalty of the 13th century i.e. King John, whose brother was the arab genociding Richard.

I would call my immediate family as upper poverty class. Its more like poverty with extra privileges cause mental health stigma was the only thing holding them back not other shit too.

As children we had a lot of very privileged opportunities because my parents made a lot of sacrifices to try and bring us back up the class ladder. Lets look into that generational trauma issue

My dads parents (born in the early 40s, dont know the year exactly. I think '43 or '44) were more upper middle class, pretty high income. Owned an insurance business that was very successful by the early 2000s at least. My grandpa is described to me as a "monster" and "violently abusive". I have a single memory of him screaming at me as a young child and I was cowering under a desk, so I really believe it. No other stories at all to provide context.

-- I gotta split this section off I realized I wrote the next thing about post-me context Ill need to move this part lower down later--

My grandpa got early onset dementia, my dad didnt notice in time, and my grandpa bankrupted his successful company and lost several million of dollars to "scammers and sexy ladies."

My dad found out around 2015-16 or so. He told me a little bit after telling me my grandparents were getting divorced. My dad managed to scrape together about $200,000 which is being sued for by the IRS actively.

(He split that money in two, and entrusted me tell him how to invest half in safe value stocks that I handpicked as well as a calculated risk allocation to bonds which we sold for 30% profit the second the market crashed. He gave the other half to a brokerage advisor. I never met the advisor but saw the results. Dont get me started on how the other dude did with that money-- we started this endeavor in January 2020.)

Personally I also dont believe that its possible to spend an entire fortune on scammers and strippers, so Id love to see his books and figure out what the hell went wrong with that asshole. I have a hunch I know something more than anyone else ("Enron", guys, we're talking about an insurance company in HOUSTON, in the 2000s) but I will never be sure without the books.

----

Back to other family--

I do not know a single thing about my grandma on my dads side. She raised me quite a lot, but yeah I literally have only heard her life described to me as "she was a housewife"

On my moms side, my Mimi (also born 1940s but slightly younger so I think 1946 or 1947) came from a divorced, upper middle class family. In 1964-65, She and her step mom both got knocked up the same year so she watched her divorced dad remarry to said step mom when she was 18-19 and getting a shotgun marriage herself, so you can imagine what that was like. The "biological" of the two moms was a very good mom and very queer from what I hear. She died when I was a baby, from lung cancer. Thats all I know. My mimi raised me quite a lot, nearly equally as much as my mom did

My mom's dad, my Papa, came from a rural farming family in East Texas. Dont know much else of anything, but he and his siblings were named "Billy, Bobby, and Betty". As in, they are what everyone likes to call "hicks"

Moving onto my direct parents now. I know a little more about them of course, but since we're getting closer in age to the present-- I think itll be easier to describe my understanding as common stereotypes. If its unclear what I mean definitely feel free to ask, but I'll probably say "I dont really know"

Not much else is relevant other than knowing that my moms family was the mormon one, but that as soon as my dad was love-bombed by the church he joined to. Mormons were also different in the 90s I'm told.

My dad struggled with being one of the "crazy schizos" of the 90s. As in, very traumatized, upset, and gaslit by the government and his parents. Must have done a damn good job dealing with it by the time he was in his late 20s and I popped out cause he was never a "bad dad" to me at all. Definitely yelled and was more angry at times, but less than any other friends parents Ive ever met, and from what I remember he came into my room at night and apologized to me literally every single time within like 5-10 minutes. I know pretty much nothing about him pre-me. He was a tradesman my whole life and specialized in remodeling kitchens & bathrooms (the 'dirty work of construction'). All his initial clientele were the rich people my grandma lived near and was friends with.

My mom would have been extremely queer-presenting and posting on tumblr if born in the year 2000, but was born in early 70s, and was a raegan teen in high-school in Texas during the satanic panic-- she presents completely cis, straight, but has body dysmorphia issues. Thats about you need to know about those issues I'm sure my tumblr folks can assume the rest and be perfectly correct. Cause thats about all I know too and I'm assuming the rest about my own mother

--- Earliest memories

I think a lot of people face doubt about their own earliest memories, maybe hearing the way I connect the images of these events in my head to my emotions I felt will help others do the same.

----

Two disclosers about me & my current healthcare discoveries before moving on

1) My only "major" childhood trauma is loneliness. I have a partner now (started dating early high school, nearing 10 years together now) who was just as lonely and we are glued to each others side constantly, and have made our life work great that way. So don't feel too bad reading this, I'm only able to write it down because Ive healed that trauma and can dig this stuff up with no issues to validate the emotions I felt even as a child

1) I believe I have a genetic trait that is only just getting discovered. There are something like 6 discovered mutations that hold this similar trait so far, and its just basically chronic insomia.

It being a genetic trait tracks with how my mom describes me as never settling into a normal sleep pattern at 6 months old, having absurd amounts of nightmares and death anxiety keeping me up at night as a child, and I still dont sleep at any given time. I average 2 hours less sleep than my husband, who averages 7-8 now that he isnt actively being abused at home.

Going to get sequenced but even if negative I'd probably just be a 7th mutation, as they only found the other 6 genes via case study.

The scientists whove discovered it call it "Familial Natural Short Sleeper", if you desire to look it up. They describe the trait like its the best possible thing in the world. Well... terminally chronic insomia is not the best thing in THIS world thats for sure.

---------

My "earliest memories"

These arent ranked by time accurately of course. Took enough effort digging through my brain to turn them up, not like Ive got a 2003 calendar stuffed in here as well.

I did do my best to sort by first memory but it also might be sorted by the order at which I recovered the memories as being one of my "earliest" when I was a child and asked such things

1. Pure emptiness. I can only describe it as dissociation. I can remember nothing about the environment around me, except feeling suddenly sucked out of it, seeing only darkness, feeling almost a ringing in my ears and the deepest dread possible. This same feeling followed me in life for a little while, but started to take more visual shape when I was an adolescent, until at some point I would see myself sitting in a chair alone in a room that is infinitely sized but that slowly gets darker the further out you go. I cant remember what exact "real-world" event caused this feeling to ever happen each time it did. I just can remember having it happen occasionally when I was awake and doing things. Definitely dissociation. (If you are willing to believe me further I think its just probably "lights out" and being scared of that)

1. Riding a mattress down the stairs. I kind of remember two images, one is the tunnel vision of going high speed down the stairs and the other would be from looking back up at the stairs when I was done going down. Totally fun, probably my first rollar coaster ride. I might remember my siblings laughing too but it wouldnt be because I can remember the actual laughing-- but I can remember feeling the joy of being in a group of people laughing. At the time, my parents were selling the house so thats why I also remember it being a completely empty carpeted room that we were riding down into

2. My brother smashing his head repeatedly into the refrigerator for 'fun' and someone saying "wow he has a hard head" or something along those lines. I was learning english I cant remember exactly what they said but that was definitely the meaning I took from their words. I think this memory is strong, because I was truly very curious as to why my brother was just running at full speed, head down, and headbutting a hard surface. The words someone said after that must have been one of my first 'answers'

3. Watching my siblings play in rare Houston snow. Not much remembering there actually. Probably just thought it was mezmorizing to watch as I just really remember a picture and feeling peace

4. Will add more later.

#mental health #trauma #early memories #life story #family #generational trauma #wealth disparity #memory #self healing #child psychology #diary #math #classism #privilege #cycle of abuse #behavioral economics #psychology #philosophy

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gendrie · 7 months

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How do you see Sansa’s story unfolding in TWOW? People seem to want to rush it so she can get to Winterfell and kill LF, but she can’t have the Vale’s knights without the consent of the lord of the Eyrie (I don’t know why that’s so overlooked) so SR needs to die so she can marry Harry, but at the same time she’s married to Tyrion and LF is obsessed with her. He brags about taking the Tully girls’ virginity, and I’m sure he won’t be happy with the prospect of Harry having her before he does. And no one can tell me the Vale lords will be fine with SR’s sudden death and have no suspicions. Things won’t be that simple. I’m of the opinion Sansa will only slay LF after she learns what happened to Jeyne. Maybe Arya will return from Braavos with Jeyne? Dunno, but I know Arya will tell Sansa about it. Arya’s mere existence ruins LF’s plans. While there’s a Stark succession crisis going on in the North Arya returns with Robb’s crown and LF’s freaks out and tries to sow intrigues between the sisters. He’s too important an antagonist to be shoved aside that early.

you covered a lot of my thoughts on the subject. most of the fandom is just not engaging with sansa's material beyond a desire to see her as the qitn who never did anything wrong so they cut out the vale shenanigans, not unlike d&d, and imagine her going directly to wf to be fawned as the most perfect lady. for some thats the full extent of their investment in asoiaf lol.

but theres no reason for her to go up up north asap. nobody is checking for her, no weirwood is calling her name, no direwolves howling in her dreams, no magical association, ect. her arc is almost entirely devoid of northern symbolism tbh. she's never even spoken to a northern character on page who wasnt a relative or her bestie. and yet the fandom refuses to even entertain alternative courses for her.

whether or not littlefinger is telling the truth is kind of secondary now that he's revealed his plot to the audience. storytelling convention dictates that it will not come to pass. but i dont think he's being entirely forthcoming anyway. i suspect his plan is actually to frame harry (who seemingly has the most to gain) for sweetrobin's death. thats been his entire M.O. since day one (see jon arryn, see joffrey, see lysa) i agree that theres no way littlefinger intends to marry the object of his obsession to another man too. thats like losing catelyn to brandon/ned all over again. not that he could marry her off even if he wanted because tyrion refuses to die.

i also agree that jeyne p. will play into this. the fact that sansa hasn't heard about "arya stark's" marriage is downright conspicuous at this point. almost everybody (arya included) heard about it in storm. she heard about jon being elected lord commander already too. that was easily brushed off. as was littlefinger's revelation that he intends to kill sweetrobin. i don't think she will be able to brush off arya/jeyne, though. how she finds out remains to be seen, but i do think its likely grrm is withholding this info from sansa for a reason.

littlefinger's got his work cut out for him. he is not accounting for robb's will which names jon a stark and the heir to robb's kingdom, nor for bran, rickon and the real arya stark. this will give sansa a lot to deal with too. for good and ill. her siblings are alive, but she has been removed from the line of succession. that will sting and yeah, arya will obviously intend to give the crown to jon which will create conflict between the sisters.

ultimately, i think a variety of factors will cause sansa to turn on littlefinger. the biggest might be, simply, that he corrupted her for nothing. he's a liar and fraud and he hasnt done anything for her. he's tricked her into forgetting that with a promise of wf, but it won't last. she's going along with his plan to murder a child, her own cousin, but it won't give her what she wants in the end. the fantasy will be destroyed. when that realization hits her she will move against him.

#ask #theres not a lot of genuine speculation for sansa out there #most its just like #she will defeat LF in her next chap and then the vale will deliver her to wf where she sits pretty forevermore #like ok damn than im revoking her main character status lol

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malconnorsupremacy · 4 months

Text

love is a ruthless game (unless you play it good and right)

Pairings: Kanej, mentioned Wesper

Rating: Mature

Summary: Inej is kidnapped, and it doesn't help when the abductor is the man she walked away from a year ago.

Chapter 1: never saw you coming

Inej woke up in an unfamiliar room, disoriented and with a headache the size of Ravka.

She blinked- once, twice. When her eyes adjusted to the pitch darkness of the room, she tried to gauge her surroundings. Someone had taken her shoes off, and her hands were bound by a rope.

She felt the ground beneath her with her bare feet. Cold, tiled, uncleaned for a while.

Before taking action, she unwound the happenings of the night before. Her mind decried for details she might have missed, with great difficulty. Hell, it hurt to think.

~~~

Inej had just finished her routine walkthrough of the ship, reminding everyone of their duties and giving pointed looks to those slacking off. It was then when she heard a knock on the door of her captain’s quarters and the head of a small brunette poked in.

“Sana! Beta, what are you doing here?” Inej offered her a pleasant smile.

Sana was barely 11 years old, and was intercepted by slavers on the streets of Ravka. Her parents had left her to fend for herself just two weeks before her abduction, too poor and sick to give her anything to meet a level of subsistence. They were Suli, too, and were driven to such poverty by the treatment of the horrible government. Inej wondered sometimes, if her parents would’ve ever abandoned her in times of such crisis. If they knew how bloody her hands would be in the future.

“I brought us some tea, will you have some with me?” Sana enquired, holding two cups of tea in her small hands. Inej was replete with a strange warmth and automatic affinity towards this young girl. Well, it wasn’t like she had anything better to do.

“Of course beta, tell me about your day.”

~~~

That tea.

That fucking tea.

Someone had put something in that tea, not enough to make her unconscious on the spot, but just enough to knock her out in another two hours’ time.

Oh Sana, Inej thought ruefully. What did you do?

Her hands had been working on the rope for a few minutes now, and with a sense of triumph, she finally wriggled free of them. Now, free and unbound, her eyes wandered around the room in the proper sense.

A faint glint caught her eye on the far left of the room. A lock.

Bending towards it, she pulled out a bobby pin from her hair and began picking the lock. A few clicks, turns and the lock gave in. With a satisfied smile, Inej got up to open the door when the air around her shifted. Her neck trickled with a trail of goosebumps as she heard a raspy voice speak behind her.

“You’ve gotten so much better at that.”

It was like glass shattering on a marble floor, like a stone scraping a jagged wall. It was the voice Inej had craved to hear for a year now.

Reflexive and nimble as ever, she turned, grabbing a knife on her thigh and holding it against his neck.

She stared at the mosiac of hard lines and sharp edges, and felt a strange sense of relief upon hearing his salt voice.

“Good to see you again, Wraith.”

~~~

The early sun, high and mighty in all its glory, shone down upon the sea and cast its light on a ship- The Wraith- bobbing its way along the glistening waters. Just ahead, were the beginnings of land; of a city most feared- Ketterdam. Inej stood at its hull, her posture stoic, her pride unwavering as she gazed at the Land of Sinners, as most called it. Ketterdam had countless names, all dark and unwelcoming just as the city itself.

But for all its imperfections, for all its flaws, for its abrasive cracks and irascible shortcomings, she’d found a place among its people. She’d found solace in the constant clatter of heels on cobblestones, in the clink of two kvas-filled glasses between strangers, in the sight of a labyrinth of dark coloured coats and boots. She was arriving at the place that had made her who she was today.

Her maiden voyage had been eventful, she had spent the first three months learning the ropes of the role, under the watchful eye of Specht. She had begun her mission of rising to the pinnacle of her crew’s trust as they circled her cautiously, aware she was inexperienced, and testing if she could cut the mustard.

She did, as it turned out. Their first attack was in Shu waters. They had the most extravagant ships with technically qualified sailors and mechanised equipment. This made them simple to spot, but tedious to overwhelm. But Inej was the Wraith, and she was nothing if not headstrong in proving herself. And so she strategised. And she planned. And left the rest for her to show her skills. She shadowed the Shu Captain, translated his words with the help of her Shu crew members, and that night, they freed 30 innocent boys and girls.

That was the night Inej truly earned the respect and admiration from all her crew members.

Over the course of the next six months, she took down 3 more ships. By the time she returned to Ketterdam, she had already created quite a fearsome reputation for herself.

Inej climbed atop the mast and peered through her spyglass as the dock revealed itself beyond the morning fog.

She spotted familiar figures at Berth 22 and could not refrain from grinning. Jesper stood with an obnoxious suit and an even more vibrant hat flailing his lanky arms upwards. Tucked beside him was a bundle of red curls and freckles. She could not see Wylan’s expression distinctly, but could tell he was smiling too. She looked around them in vain, hoping to catch sight of gloved hands, hats or crow-headed canes. Disappointment sunk in quickly, dissolving in her ecstasy, leaving her with a bittersweet, lingering taste. When Inej had left Ketterdam, she had left with a promise to return, if he tried. But she would give him his time. To be ready.

Inej had flushed cheeks by the time she was released by Jesper while Wylan chuckled at his boyfriend’s exaggerated reactions.

“No letter! For two months! Two whole months, Inej. Was it because I asked for more of those spiced muffins from your mother? I understand I overstated my desire to raid her kitchen of those flavours…”

Jesper’s voice was blanked out by another rising point of disdain. Kaz never wrote back. Every time she wrote letters, she wrote to the Van Eck house, to Nina and to the Slat. Did he ever even open those letters? Did he just skim through the points important for business and discard the rest?

Jesper seemed to notice her awry expression and slipped in a nonchalant comment.

"And Kaz has been working himself to death with all those new clubs opening up, man barely has time to breathe."

Inej gave him a good-natured smile. Leave it to Jesper to assure her with those knowing grey eyes.

"Well, " Inej said as she clapped her hands together. "I'm starving."

The first stop Inej made after a hearty lunch at the Van Eck mansion was the Slat. She'd had a lovely time catching up with the couple, sharing her adventures at sea and dodging certain innuendos thrown in by Jesper while he explicated details of the developments in their relationship.

Her feet scaled the rooftops, easy as butter on a hot pan. The waves of nostalgia cascaded over her because nothing had changed . The tiles on the roofs. The crooked pipes. The crows outside Kaz Brekker's window.

Inej noticed the attic window was open, meaning he had known she would come. She quickly slipped into her place on the windowsill. The crows cawed at her presence and nipped at her hand as they used to. Crows don't forget, Kaz had told her once. They hold people who nurture them close to their heart. They remember the faces of those who had wronged them, and coddle their thirst for vengeance.

After a good bell of sitting in silence, Inej decided to finally speak to the man seated at his desk.

"Hello, Kaz," She said, her eyes boring into the back of his head.

"Hello, Wraith. What business?" He clipped. Ever the businessman, she thought wryly.

"You didn't come to see me at the docks," she accused.

"I didn't see the reason for doing so. Was there something important?" He asked, his tone showing no sarcasm.

"I was gone for nine months, Kaz. You didn't even write me back."

"What did you expect me to write you about? About how my day was? About how many people I had killed that day? About how I felt so righteous but at the same time deafened with guilt because of the number of souls I had sent to the Saints?"

Inej felt hurt. His tone was mocking, ridiculing as he mimicked one of the lines from her letters.

So he had read them. He had probably laughed at them.

"No, Kaz," She said as she pulled her hood over her head. "Even a simple 'Hello, Inej' would've done."

~~~

"What business, Dirtyhands?" She tried not to let her anger show, of being drugged and then tied to a chair by him.

He only raised a brow in response, which fueled inej’s annoyance.

She backed him until he sat down on the chair right behind him. Then using her leg, she shoved open the door with the picked lock. What stared at her was an unwavering brick wall.

She couldn't help but huff a laugh.

"Whose idea of a cruel joke was this?" She asked, as she watched him curl one end of his mouth.

"Rotty's. Hope before the torture; callous, wouldn't you say?"

It then dawned on her that this was a Dreg safe house. It wasn't one she had been in before, so it had to be a new one. Which also meant there was a hidden escape somewhere in this room.

"You make quite a lousy abductor. You didn't strip me of my knives." She stared right at his brown eyes, swirling, brewing the most bitter coffee she'd ever seen.

He grinned at that but didn't say anything, and Inej hated it. Hated how he made it look like it was part of his plan. How he still rendered her completely flummoxed, even while she was the one who wielded the knife.

"I will ask you one simple question, Dirtyhands. Why did you bring me here?"

"My answer to that has never changed, Inej. Money. Always money."

The urge to spit on his godsforsaken face was so overwhelming she had to clench her mouth shut. She had given up on him a long time ago, and yet he managed to spew such bullshit that she was compelled to want to give up on him all over again.

"What were you going to do? Hand me over to my enemies at sea? Or maybe you'd do me a clean kill yourself? Anything to earn you a quick buck."

Inej thought she saw Kaz's face morph at her words. To something of sadness. Of guilt.

But he went back to wearing a poker face the very next second.

Some deep-rooted part of her screamed vehement denials at the accusation, but she shoved it to the bottom.

This was too much. All of it. It was a bubbling wave of frenzied emotions coupled with anxiety, threatening to burst through her stoic dam.

"No," Kaz said slowly, testing the cracks in her fortress. "I've been paid to bring you here. To get you away from the ship."

When Inej shot him a pointed glare, demanding an elaboration, he sighed.

"Gheller, the man whose ship you raided 7 months ago, has a son- Revanch. Now, Gheller's ship had a signed contract of transfer of 3/4th of his business profit to Revanch. It was a plea to amend the demand in his will, since every other asset he owned went to his bastard son in Kerch, Gewild.

"So you see, Mr. Revanch was furious he wasn't getting anything from his father and commenced a fight with Gewild, demanding he give Revanch his share of the assets."

"And Gewild didn't agree," Inej guessed, painfully nostalgic with how this was the way Kaz always narrated his ventures before the Ice Court heist.

"Of course not, which is why he turns to you, the woman who had stolen his wealth in the first place."

"He wants revenge. And he wants to loot my ship." Inej pieced it together, jaw clenched.

"And that is why he paid me a hefty price to bring you here. You see, your ship is disorganised without you. They wouldn't hold a strong front, unprepared and without the support of their Captain. They’d lose, giving way to Revanch to ransack your ship," Kaz explained, his eyes glinting with a familiar light of mischief.

Inej caught on immediately. The lie in his eyes. The upward tilt of his lips.

Because her ship was the complete opposite of disorganised. Inej had given first importance to making her crew as disciplined as possible. Attacks should be coordinated, and every member should remain alert in case of an emergency.

She narrowed her eyes at him. What was he playing at?

“What did you do? Is my crew in danger?” Inej hissed, tightening her hold over the hilt of her knife. It was starting to make a scar on his pale skin.

Kaz remained baring his ridiculously infuriating smirk.

“No, Inej,” he whispered, as if trusting her with a secret, “because I didn't follow the plan.”

on ao3

#kanej #six of crows #inej ghafa #kanej fanfic #fic rec #kaz brekker #kaz holding inej captive. detoxified.

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insomniacwriter17 · 1 year

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How would little Billy react if he couldn’t find his favorite comfort item?

i cannot stress this enough, the reaction is so bad

now, it’s not immediately bad

billy misplaces stuff a lot

he’ll leave his pacifier by his lunch plate or tank on the couch when he goes outside to play

but it usually doesn’t take but a few moments for him to track it down, it’s usually in the second or third place he looks for it

but the day that tank got lost, billy went ballistic

they’d been to the park with robin and eddie (and nancy and wayne), and billy was barely awake as they packed up to head home

too tired to worry about carrying anything, billy shoved tank into what he thought was stevie’s bag

but it was actually robin’s bag, and bllly was too sleepy to realize it

and stevie had been so focused on getting a sleep-clumsy billy into the car and then later into the house that he didn’t notice the sidekick missing

it wasn’t until billy stumbled downstairs about an hour and a half later, teary-eyed and clutching shelby the seahorse that steve realized something was awry

“aw, buddy, what’s the matter?” stevie frowned, immediately moving to snuggle the distraught boy

then billy whimpered the two worst words stevie could’ve thought be strung together. “w-where’s tank?”

“what do you mean, where’s tank?”

“h-he’s in the b-backpack.”

“are you sure we didn’t put him in bed with you? i unpacked the backpack already and he wasn’t there.”

billy’s eyes fill with tears and steve is immediately entering panic mode now “ok alright, billy, don’t worry! maybe we left him in the car. i’ll go check.”

but tank is not in the car and billy is hysterical

stevie can’t do anything to stop the breakdown, and billy is curled up on the edge of the couch sobbing so hard he’s making himself cough and steve is actually concerned that billy’s going to make himself throw up

steve is looking everywhere for tank, and billy feels like he can’t breathe

tank is his best friend! how could he lose tank?!

the phone rings. steve ignores it because he is dealing with a bigger crisis than whatever awaits him on the other end of the line.

but it rings again and again as billy continues to cry. the boy’s face is red, streaked with tears and snot as he continues to break down.

“buddy, are you sure you put him in the bag?” steve asks. “did you leave him at the park?”

“n-no!” billy wails louder, though now he’s panicking. what if he did leave tank at the park? did he leave him on the slide? did he drop him at the monkey bars? “w-we have t-to go b-back!”

billy clutches shelby closer to his chest but its not the same! in a moment of frustration, he throws the stuffed seahorse across the living room, and steve pauses.

“billy, i need you to think real hard. are you sure tank ended up in the backpack?” he asks again. billy nodded, wiping his nose with the hem of his tshirt as he lets out a pitiful whimper.

the phone is still ringing and steve needs just a second to think. “hang on, buddy. we’re going to figure this out,” steve promised. he steps into the kitchen and answers the phone.

“what? who is it?” he snaps, unable to muster up any kind of manners. whoever this was had tested steve’s patience too many times by calling.

“oh, well, i think i might be able to solve your problem,” nancy wheeler’s voice floats through the phone. “you missing a team player?”

immediately, steve lets out a relieved sigh. “you have tank?” he confirmed.

“he was in robin’s bag. i didn’t realize it until just now,” nancy replied. “she’s asleep now but i can bring him by later.”

steve feels his heartbeat returning to normal, though he can still hear billy crying in the other room. “any chance we can come get him? billy is beside himself.”

“understood,” nancy’s voice was sweet. “he’ll be waiting on the front porch.”

steve wastes no time, hanging up the phone without so much as a goodbye before he’s hurrying back into the living room.

“billy, bud, great news! tank is safe and sound at nancy’s house!” stevie reported, and billy pauses mid-cry, his eyes widening.

“r-really?” the boy whimpered, jumping up. “w-we have to g-go!”

“yes, we’re going right now. robin and nancy have been taking good care of him though,” steve promises as he ushers billy out the front door.

the tears don’t truly stop until steve is pulling up to the wheeler’s house, and as promised, tank is sitting on the wheeler’s patio table.

steve feels the tension leave his shoulders as he throws the car into park and jumps out. “i’ll get him, bud, you stay there,” steve insisted.

billy had caught sight of his stuffie as they pulled into the driveway, and he sat, frozen as he watched stevie pick tank up and bring him back to the car.

immediately, billy takes the comfort item and hugs the stuffed turtle to his chest, quietly whimpering as he snuggled tank.

“it’s okay,” steve promises, petting at billy’s hair as he waits for the other to calm down. “you’re okay, bud, and so is tank.”

billy is still sniffling and whimpering when they pull back into the harrington driveway, but stevie is quick to snuggle billy close once they get inside.

they sit on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, billy unwilling to put tank down for anything. stevie practically feeds billy dinner so that billy can hug tank tightly in his arms.

so stevie implements a roll-call whenever they get ready to leave from somewhere when billy’s dropped.

it adds a few minutes to their day, but it saves steve some worry and it makes billy giggle. “aaaalright, is billy here?” “h-here!” “what about tank?” “mmhmm.” “blankie?” billy nods and holds up the small green comfort item. “pacifier?” “y-yup!” “great! everyone’s here! to the stevie-mobile!”

and steve finds himself double-checking to make sure everything stays either in billy’s hands, steve’s hands, or steve puts it in the backpack, because this was not an experience steve wishes to repeat.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #steve harrington #nsap #harringrove #fandom #age regression #caregiver! steve harrington #little! billy hargrove #insomniacwriter17 #blurb #ao3 #the little buddy universe

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theriveroflight · 10 months

Text

A Chance Encounter

@fyeahghosttrick's Ghost Swap might be over, but apparently I am not done writing yet! Inspired by one of @okiroash's prompts: "AU where Cabanela/Jowd crosses path with Yomiel 3 years after the park incident, will they confront him? maybe he'll get thrown into the scp jail /j or something more angsty.. it's up to you"

Rating: T

Word Count: 1732

Content...uh...notices: car accident; it/its pronouns are used for Sissel for personal reasons (see AO3 note for full reasoning)

Summary: Jowd is used to seeing ghosts — but not like this.

Read on AO3

Jowd is a man haunted by many ghosts, even before anyone in his life actually dies. So when he sees a man with yellow hair in a red suit, he doesn’t think anything of it. Seeing the ghost of his worst mistake in front of him isn’t unusual, though there is typically some sort of trigger. And the ghost in front of him is different from the times he’s seen the specter of his past in front of him. For one, there’s something on his shoulders. A black cat.

Jowd stops in his tracks.

Yomiel, for his part, is actually not dressed in a red suit. He’s dressed more casually for going out in public, and he has a face mask on to obscure some of the cameras. Sissel, his closest companion, is sitting on top of his shoulder. The weight of Sissel atop his shoulders is a comfort, and with his headphones in, he’s hardly paying attention to his surroundings. Jowd’s existential crisis goes unnoticed by him, which is fortunate enough for him — for the next few minutes, at least.

Jowd makes a phone call in hushed tones to his partner at the force. They’re both supposed to be on break — but a missing body is a missing body. Even if that body shouldn’t be standing up and walking.

“I’m coming, baby,” Cabanela says on the other end of the line. “Doooooon’t worry. There’s got to be a way to explain this, yeah?”

“Yes,” Jowd answers begrudgingly. “I’m certain if it were a hallucination it wouldn’t be like this. But…”

“If it spooked you enough to call me, it must have been reeeeeeeeal spooky,” Cabanela responds. The implication goes unspoken, but remains nonetheless even after the call ends.

Jowd follows the man, as discreetly as a man of his stature is capable of. Yomiel isn’t doing anything too out of the ordinary — he’s going to the library again, one of the few places he feels comfortable, even if he can’t have Sissel with him.

“How’s it hangin’?” Cabanela asks.

“He’s inside the library,” Jowd answers. “I’m still…fairly certain it’s him. Maybe it’s a false alarm, but…I don’t think I’ll ever forget that face.”

Cabanela pats Jowd twice on the back, trying to be reassuring and failing. “Iiiiiiii’ll head on in. Don’t worry up a storm about it, okay?”

Jowd smiles — for real this time. “Don’t leave the gun on the table.”

“You know me, baby, I don’t make the same mistakes twice.” Cabanela smiles in return. “It’s not even on me today! Because this little interlude is during our lunch break.”

And then Cabanela disappears from Jowd into the library.

Meanwhile, Yomiel has been checking his AOL account. People don’t usually email people that they believe are dead, but he’s been trying to update his MySpace friends from a perspective that isn’t weird.

How does one phrase “don’t believe the news I didn’t actually die”? Who knows, but Yomiel’s trying to figure it out, sitting on his AOL messageboards when he sees Cabanela in the reflection of his probably-too-dark screen.

Meanwhile, Jowd is outside, paying special attention to a cat in the grass. The cat is black, with a bandana tied around its neck. Its name is Sissel, but he doesn’t know that. Nor does he recognize it as the cat that was sitting atop Yomiel’s shoulders earlier. But Sissel recognizes him, and it doesn’t like Jowd very much. Jowd had been pointing something dangerous at Yomiel, Sissel knows, and it doesn’t like that very much. It doesn’t like Jowd very much, just from how much Yomiel has talked about the green detective, and this is certainly that same green detective there in the park.

Jowd just sits and waits for Sissel to approach him. It won’t, but it will continue to observe Jowd.

“Heyyyyyyy,” Cabanela says, deceptively casual. He leans against the counter. “I’d like to use the computer, if you please.”

Yomiel’s sunglasses slip a little ways down his nose.

“No.” Yomiel’s words are clipped as he turns back to his typing. But he can’t control the fear that courses through him.

“Alriiiiiiight then,” Cabanela says. “We tried it the easier way, and now we can do this the hard way. Police. And youuuuuu are under arrest, my dear fellow.”

“I’m not doing this again,” Yomiel says, voice rising with panic. “I can’t do this again.”

“Relaaaaaaax,” Cabanela says.

Easy for him to say, Yomiel thinks, anger blazing within him more than the fear sending chills down his spine. But he submits to the handcuffs and lets himself seethe. There will be a time to escape when he gets into the police car. Sissel is right outside the library. He will not be held captive for long. After all, how can a ghost be imprisoned? He laughs at the thought. They can take his body, but they’ll never have him.

So he lets Detective Cabanela escort him to the police car waiting around the corner, and then as soon as he’s inside the car, he leans himself against the window and hops out.

To Yomiel, it would be child’s play to take over Cabanela’s mind and make him crash the car. And that idea comes into his head just as he’s about to double back into the library.

It’s perfect. And it gives him an opportunity to escape.

So he puts himself into Cabanela’s mind instead and crashes the car. He knows Cabanela is alive — he can feel it, the spirit trying to push back on him. But it’s not enough. It’s not enough — he knows what he’s doing now. He’s had this power for years. And it makes him feel good, to feel a heart beating within someone’s chest, to suck in air through his lungs and know it is keeping him alive.

But he returns to his own body. He has to find Sissel—

And then, right there, are Jowd and Sissel. Sissel immediately scampers to Yomiel’s side — it’s followed Jowd because Jowd had taken Cabanela’s bike to follow the police car and Sissel had known somehow that its best friend had been taken.

Jowd knows Cabanela can drive. Just because Cabanela rides a bike everywhere doesn’t mean he can’t drive — it’s a requirement for the force. An officer never knows when they’ll be pulled to dispatch, and you can’t arrest a criminal riding a bike.

“You’re a wanted fugitive,” Jowd warns.

“I’m dead,” Yomiel answers. “Do you think that will stop me? You won’t hurt me. You wouldn’t dare.”

And he’s right. Jowd hasn’t stopped hating himself for what happened that day in the park.

“Come with me, and I won’t have to,” Jowd answers.

“No,” Yomiel says. And then he reaches to possess Sissel, his body falls to the ground, and Jowd is left stunned.

The body has no heartbeat, naturally. Sissel and Yomiel bound away in tandem; running from the scene while Jowd approaches the body.

The body, of course, is dead — what else could it be? But Jowd panics nonetheless — did he really kill Yomiel? How did Yomiel die so suddenly? Jowd hadn’t even done anything, and he doubts it was something from the car crash, because there hasn’t been any blood…

Cabanela, for his part, is mostly fine. He doesn’t know what happened, and is very confused as to why the car is crashed — but when he spots his partner over Yomiel’s body from the car’s mirror, he can’t help but feel confused. Even more confused. He is experiencing a lot of confusion.

“Jowd,” Cabanela says, almost too soft, “tell me what happened, baby.”

“I didn’t do anything. He just collapsed.” Jowd’s tone is flat. He can’t convince himself of it.

Yomiel looks over his-Sissel’s shoulder.

Are you okay? Sissel asks, though it’s less in the form of words and more in the form of the general feeling.

Yomiel conveys the feeling of being fine, and Sissel conveys in return skepticism. Yomiel’s not alright, and Sissel knows that, but it doesn’t push too far.

“The last time we put his body in the morgue, we lost his body,” Cabanela says. “I’m going to talk to the prof. He might help us out.”

Other officers are at the scene now.

“Detectives!” Officer McCaw says. “What happened here?”

“We found our missing body,” Jowd says, face turning with disgust. “It’s him. I know for sure it’s him.”

“...here? After a car crash?” McCaw asks.

“He was…alive when we found him,” Jowd continues. Reporting is something he can do. The facts. “I do not know what is going on with his body, but there’s no signs of life. He’s not responding. No heartbeat. No trauma consistent with the car crash.”

McCaw looks at the body. “Alright,” he says.

The body has fallen in quite an awkward position. Yomiel’s face is on the ground, and his butt is sticking up in the air.

“Who was driving at the time?” McCaw asks. “I have to ask. Someone has to be on the hook for the damage.” He sounds tired more than anything else. He wants nothing more than to just get this over with.

“Me,” Cabanela answers. “I miiiiiiiight have lost consciousness at the wheel. Which is hella weird. I don’t remember going to sleep, or even being tired at all…”

“Strange,” McCaw says. “Might want to get that checked out.”

“Thaaaaaanks,” Cabanela says. He’s not being sarcastic — not one bit.

Yomiel is catching his breath. He’ll have to find a way to get his body back.

Sissel conveys at him exasperation. But Yomiel can tell that it’s content.

McCaw takes some more notes about the damage to the police cruiser, and then graciously lets Jowd ride in the cruiser McCaw had driven on-site. Cabanela is forced to ride his bike back to the police station, the first of many punishments for the car crash.

Cabanela does end up calling the prof, and the prof examines the body. The body is not left unattended again — they will not make the same mistake twice. A black cat lingers around the scene, waiting for the moment when Sissel will be alone again and Yomiel will have his own vessel — but until then, the body remains guarded, and Yomiel bides his time, waiting for the day when he can finally have himself back, even if his body is a facsimile of what it once was.

#ghost trick #ghost trick spoilers #jowd #yomiel #cabanela #sissel #fanfiction #my writing

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laf-outloud · 7 months

Note

They don’t drive out to FBBC from Austin. It’s residents of dripping springs and the surrounding areas that are FBBC’s core business. That’s who trivia, casino nights etc are aimed at, like any good local bar and similar

The thing is though, if local residents are their mainstay, their bread-and-butter, then why is it always all about Jensen and his fans? FBBC marketing is basically the same as TW - throw everything at the wall and hope something sticks and when all else fails, stick Jensen (and D) front and center and keep their fingers crossed.

If local residents are the ones they are catering too with all of these random events then why are there a bunch of SPN specific trivia nights? Why do they name some of their beers after Jensen's roles? Why do they keep having "events" with impalas?

Why are the only customers they ever mention Jensen fans? Every time Gino gives an interview about FBBC he mentions Jensen and his fans. Do we not remember where he called FBBC "Graceland for SPN and Jensen fans"?? And there was another interview he did recently (that I don't think I bookmarked unfortunately) where he mentioned that they are popular because of the owner (aka because of Jensen's fans). Why completely and continuously ignore your core customers when talking about your business? Its never a "we love the dedicated Jensen/SPN fans who come to visit, but we also have amazing local customers who keep our business running" (or something along those lines), its always just "Jensen is the owner so ppl come for Jensen and here are Jensen specific trivia night and Jensen role specific beers".

Sure they also have regular trivia and yoga and painting nights. I guess those are for the locals. But they otherwise publicly ignore their actual customers and instead cater directly to AA's and to a much lesser extent (but used when necessary) hellers - blue and green shot glasses anyone? Who do you think bought those out?

It is absolutely normal and fine for breweries and other similar businesses to have events and things to draw people in (especially in an area with a lot of other breweries), no one is saying that. What we are saying is FBBC has an identity crisis. They don't know how to promote it and so they promote Jensen and Jensen themed things which is absolutely catering to his fans. Are there fans who are local? Sure. But most of them aren't, so that as a promotional strategy is just... weird. That's relying on people making a whole trip/vaca just to go to a brewery, Those fans might spend a lot when they go, but they are only going once or twice. Its weird to cater to people who might never be able to go or might only go a handful of times.

Much like TW, they think Jensen's name and face are enough to carry a business. Them throwing everything at the wall and now this layoff post (grain of salt obviously, but if its true) it shows, yet again, that doesn't work.

Yes! All of this!!! And I'll add that if I were a local who didn't really care about Jensen or SPN, I'd pick a different brewery to go to than one who catered to a bunch of fangirls. If anything, FBBC is alienating the locals more than catering to them.

#ask box #anti fbbc #anti jensen #fbbc's poor marketing

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indeedcaptain · 7 months

Text

Spirktober 2023, day 9: Home

Helloooooo I know I'm a few days behind but it's fine! Here is my entry for day 9 of Spirktober :) this might be the first chapter of a series of prompts? We'll see.

Also posted to AO3 here.

☆☆☆

It was an infrequent occurrence for the Enterprise to be near Earth for the winter holidays, let alone when there was not an ongoing crisis, and therefore Spock planned for his primarily Human crew to be irresponsible, unresponsive, and generally unproductive for the duration of their leave.

He organized his schedule accordingly: mornings were for work at the Academy, where he had volunteered to proctor exams, answer questions, and serve as a guest lecturer; afternoons were for participating in ongoing experiments in the Academy’s vast warren of laboratories; and evenings were for working through the backlog of paperwork that the Enterprise had acquired over the past six months. At night, he would sleep or meditate. Perhaps he would find someone to spar with, even if his preferred sparring partner was 1,920 miles away.

When he arrived at his Starfleet-provided quarters that evening, James Kirk was leaning against his door. Previous experience told him that he could as good as abandon the schedule he had set for himself, based on James's arrival. Spock’s ability to see a week’s schedule through to the end with no disturbances had decreased by 23% after he had become James’s first officer, and 47% after he had become his friend.

“Good evening, captain,” he said, and allowed his hand to be scanned by the door’s lock.

“Jim, please,” the captain said. “We’re off duty for weeks.”

“How was your meeting with the admiralty?”

“Just fine, Spock,” James said, and he smiled at Spock. He followed Spock indoors and peered around at Spock’s apartment. There was very little of interest within - he had not thought it logical to disrupt his ship quarters for a period of less than two months on Earth. He had to admit, however, that the decision had left his current abode looking rather bereft. James did not comment on it, and instead leaned his hip against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms. He was dressed casually. Though Spock found himself partial to the figure that James cut in uniform, he admitted that he looked nice in civilian clothing as well. He wore a loose white button-down that Spock thought might have been cotton, and dark denim pants that highlighted the strong lines of his legs. Spock clasped his hands behind his back.

“I must assume, captain, that you are here with a purpose,” Spock said, when it became apparent that the explanation for James’s appearance was not forthcoming.

“Never one for small talk, are you?” James smiled ruefully. “I do have a purpose. I saw your schedule for your so-called shore leave.”

“I found it logical to plan my days according to how I could be of most use.”

James made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like “ach.” Spock was uncertain of its meaning, and waited for further explanation.

“You don’t always have to be of use, you know,” James said.

“It is illogical to use my time otherwise when I do not require rest in the same way that the rest of the crew—”

“I came to invite you home for Christmas,” James said. Spock raised his eyebrow.

“Vulcans do not celebrate these holidays the way that humans do, captain.” Spock estimated that he could get away with calling James ‘captain’ twice more before James insisted again that he call him Jim. It was a game that he rather enjoyed.

“Don’t give me that. Amanda told me that you used to help her celebrate Hanukkah when you were a child.”

“You’ve corresponded with my mother?”

“After the Babel run, she told me that you don’t write to her as much as she would like, and you never include the details she wants. She found out about your being blinded on Deneva from the news, Spock.”

“As it was temporary, I did not think it relevant to include—”

“Regardless of what you thought, she didn't like how she found out. She asked me to keep her in the loop.”

“She asked you to 'keep her in the loop,'” Spock said faintly. Guilt was illogical, and yet he felt it in his abdomen regardless.

“So!” James smiled at him. “I know that you have celebrated holidays when the humans you like do it. And I hate the thought of you rotting here by yourself while the rest of the crew makes merry. So I’ve come to take you home with me for the holidays instead.”

“I did not intend to decompose.”

“No, no, you intended to be useful and logical and completely at the service of other people, which is almost worse.” Spock’s padd dinged, and he looked at the message on the screen.

LEAVE REQUEST APPROVED, DECEMBER 15 - JANUARY 10. He looked back up at James, who grinned shamelessly.

“I can only assume that you are responsible for both this leave request and its approval, captain.”

“I might have added it to my meeting agenda today, yeah,” James admitted. “And it’s Jim, Spock. At least until January.” Spock inclined his head, and turned on his heel to head back into the single bedroom in the apartment. Iowa was cold, and he was not acclimated to snow. He would have to pack thermal undergarments as well as overcoats. James followed him into the bedroom.

“This place is so impersonal, Spock,” he said, as Spock pulled his bag from where he had stowed it under the bed. “I won’t order you to come with me. You can do what you think is best, as always. But on Earth, the holidays are the time to be with the people you care about, who care about you… I would hate for you to be alone.” Spock pulled shirts, undergarments, socks, and the warmest boots he had brought to San Francisco from the closet and folded them before placing them into the bag. Although the decision to abandon the responsibilities he’d volunteered for was not a logical one, he found that he was less invested in bowing to logic when it came to James Kirk. James had asked him to accompany him home, and so Spock would go.

“Spock, come on. What do you think?” There was a hint of worry in James’s voice now, and Spock realized that he was waiting for a verbal confirmation.

“I thought my packing a bag of clothing optimal for a frozen tundra would suffice as answer,” Spock said, and he gestured to the now-full bag. He dropped his padd on top and zipped it shut.

James gripped his shoulder affectionately and smiled. Spock could feel, even through the fabric of his robes, contentmentcompanionshipwarmthaffection flowing from James’s skin. He hefted the bag up and turned off the lights.

James put a hand on the small of his back as he passed, accompanying him to the front door. Spock turned the rest of the lights off and set the temperature controls to stasis. All factors being weighed, Spock thought, his personal outlook on the next few weeks had improved considerably. He could spend his time correcting students’ essays and assisting with experiments that were outside of his focus area, or he could spend his time with James and be the recipient of his smiles and physical affection. It was not logical, but it was what he wanted.

“It’ll be fun, Spock,” James said.

“I am intrigued to discover what you consider to be fun in your inhospitable native climate, captain.”

“And I told your mom we would video-call her.”

“Your insertion of yourself into my familial communications is fascinating, captain.”

“I was invited! And if you call me captain one more time, I’m going to throw you into a snowbank and leave you there.”

Spock locked the door behind them. “I would like to see the attempt. Captain.”

James’s laugh echoed down the hall, and Spock thought to himself that perhaps it would be a very ‘merry’ Christmas indeed.

#spock #spirk #my writing #spirktober #spirktober2023 #tos #k/s #kirk/spock #spirktober 2023 #k/s fan fiction #kirk/spock fan fiction #christmas in iowa

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thats-it-im-fallingdown · 1 year

Text

So I’ve finally finished season 4 of Clone Wars! Since the episode order is mostly lining up with the chronology, I can put my thoughts down into something resembling organized.

Mon Cala arc

-can that prince please not pronounce his own homeworld’s name like that? he calls it moan cala and i hate it

-it wasn’t necessary for the plot to work, but I’m curious about the history between the cala and the quarren. i wish we got some more details on why relations are tense

-the animators were clearly out of their depth (ha) with the setting. some parts felt like they didn’t know how to translate the usual fighting to an aquatic setting

-the story was satisfying, but I doubt this is anyone’s favorite set of episodes

-i can feel the gungans growing on me. not sure how I feel about that

Shadow Warrior

-how dare this show make gungans tolerable. coming into my home and making me okay with jar jar fucking binks

R2 and C3P0 duology

-some fun moments!

-would show it to my young cousins but at my age, it goes on a little too long. I’m not looking for/expecting deep meditations on war (American War by Omar el Akkad if that’s what you are interested in), but this is more in the kids show category than the family show one most episodes fall under

Umbara arc

-this is what I mean by being a family show vs a kids show

-I love this arc

-and Rex really gets fleshed out as a character in this one

-i didn’t get why people hated krell so much. i get it now. he’s like the umbridge of Star wars

-the tech designs for umbara and umbaran tech are pretty slick, i hope they get a cameo in live action some day

-the krell twist was. okay ig? it comes out of nowhere a bit. sure, he’s very strict on protocol and has a bone to pick with clones, but it’s said explicitly, more than once, that he gets results as a commander (paid for in casualties, but still successful). him being a relentless opportunist gets away from the clone thing, and i think digging into that could have been really interesting

Zygerrian Slave Empire

-hm

-not fond of the orientalist imagery in this one. won’t elaborate. i’ll say it’s personal for me and leave it at that

-how Anakin’s history as someone who was once literally enslaved should have been explored more

-this arc has its redeeming moments, but it also has a lot of wasted potential

-I might make a more in depth post someday, I have a lot of half formed thoughts about this one

Friend in Need

-this was a rewatch for me, I saw it when I was getting Mandalorian context for the Grogu and his working single father show

-I notice now that except for Bo Katan, deathwatch is all male. and to me, were implied to be sexually abusing the local women (the village leader mentions them having “taken” their women) maybe that’s what was meant by that infamous “they all died off years ago” re: exile of the warriors. no women, no offspring.

Crisis on Naboo arc

-ooh, I wish we get some more time on how Anakin was affected by Obi Wans faked death

-man, cad bane looks stupid without his hat. cover up that dome baby boy, you aren’t ventress, you cant pull the bald look off

-cad bane saving kenobi/hardeen in the Box. he’s a bad guy all right, but he isn’t entirely without honor. love that trope

-and I love palpatine’s scheming! glad to see a senior citizen staying active and involved

Ventress/Savage Oppress/Maul arc

-i love Assaj Ventress so much it’s unreal

-idc that the nightsisters are on the dark side. i love sisterhoods, i love witches, i love covens, it broke my heat to watch the separatists massacre them. at least mother talzin is still alive.

-i have so much Feeling for ventress. betrayed and abandoned again and again only to lose her sisters, and to feel like it’s her fault

-saving that girl from a forced marriage… ventress I love you.

-they should have let maul keep the spider legs, they looked cool

-I didn’t get the obsession with maul. I don’t really share it, but I do get it now. the raw drive for vengeance, his madness. I’m looking forward to where the writers take him

-obi wan and ventress are a great combo, their dialogue has a lot of chemistry

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tomorrowusa · 8 months

Text

The heart of Trumpism involves being anti-majoritarian. Republicans are intent on keeping power in the hands of a shrinking reactionary minority for as long as they can get away with it.

Through gerrymandering, voter suppression, and court packing the GOP has attempted to gain a monopoly on power at the state and federal level for the past dozen years. Eventually they will all die off, but they have the ability to derail American democracy and make our lives miserable for the next decade or two.

But becoming more active in the democratic process and concentrating on long term goals can weaken and shorten the MAGA threat to America.

Greg Sargent at the Washington Post (archived) describes how MAGA overreach and increased moderate to liberal activism have been damaging GOP extremists.

Even as voters are mobilizing to protect democracy at the ballot box, Republicans are redoubling their commitment to the former president’s anti-majoritarian mode of politics. And this, in turn, is motivating voters even more. Call it the “MAGA doom loop.” It’s playing out in state after state. Let’s start with Michigan, where Trump’s decisive loss in 2020 led MAGA loyalists to reshape the state Republican Party around devotion to the “big lie.” Then Democrats resoundingly captured full control of the state’s government in the 2022 midterms, in which election-deniers across the country lost races up and down the ticket. Now, the Michigan GOP is in shambles. Just this month, the chairman again called for scrutiny of supposed 2020 fraud, prompting infighting over debunked conspiracy theories. And as the New York Times reports, the party’s descent into MAGA mania is alienating donors, draining volunteer enthusiasm and driving away swing voters. All of that will further dim Trump’s 2024 chances in this crucial battleground state.

The battle over Michigan isn't over yet, but the state is looking increasingly bad for Republicans.

Or take Wisconsin. The GOP-controlled state legislature is threatening to impeach state Supreme Court Justice Janet Protasiewicz, who won her seat earlier this year by 11 points, handing liberals a majority. Democrats ran ads about protecting democracy to boost Protasiewicz, arguing that her ascent would thwart attempts to overrule the state’s 2024 outcome.

It's true that the pro-totalitarian GOP majority in the Wisconsin legislature may try to impeach Justice Protasiewicz on the most flimsy grounds. But that could spark a constitutional crisis which could damage Republicans even more.

All of this syncs up with what political science tells us: Issues become salient for voters when elites talk about them a lot. That has certainly been the case with democracy and that will surely continue next year. Big events — such as Trump’s prosecution for Jan. 6, 2021-related offenses and the GOP’s continued devotion despite those criminal charges — will only reinforce what’s at stake. “As long as the MAGA-Trump faction remains a threat to free and fair elections, a consequential slice of the electorate will continue to vote on this issue,” political scientist Lee Drutman told me. If there’s a silver lining, it’s that the MAGA doom loop might keep on working its magic — all the way through 2024.

Keep talking about the need to protect democracy. Let wavering centrists know that this is an issue which affects them.

And of course, PAY MUCH MORE ATTENTION TO STATE GOVERNMENT. Letting the MAGA crowd run your state is no more palatable than letting them run the federal government.

By devoting less attention to Florida state government, Democrats there have allowed Ron DeSantis and his rubber stamp legislature to construct a 21st century dystopia in what was once a swing state.

Look up who represents you in your legislature. If they are Republicans then get to work now on electing pro-democracy replacements.

Find Your Legislators Look your legislators up by address or use your current location.

#republicans #maga #democracy #republicans are a threat to democracy #state government #state parties #michigan #wisconsin #florida #state legislatures #register and vote #make florida michigan #greg sargent

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rolotouto · 1 year

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About the new Student Council drama CDs

Before focusing on the topic of this post’s title, I said I’d translate the only two lines Rolo had in GeaGene’s Lelouch birthday event:

Rolo “There’s a giant Brother looking for Brother and going on a rampage!”

Lelouch “Huh?”

Orpheus “You probably don’t understand what he’s talking about, but Rolo is just telling the truth” I initially skipped the dialogues assuming there’d be no Rolo in the event, so I’m not sure whether the mecha-Lelouch you’ll soon see below was made by Lloyd or Nina nor what its purpose is or what, but anyway, to Lelouch’s dismay, everyone says it(he? I’m using “it” to differentiate the robot from Lelouch) has the same personality as Lelouch:

Kallen: “You know, I’ve been noticing for a while, but the way it talks is...”

Suzaku “Yeah, I thought the same”

Suzaku/Kallen “Similar to Lelouch”

Lelouch “Eh?”

Akito “Particularly like when he acts as Zero”

Orpheus “The way they ham it up too”

Oldrin “That haughty aura...”

Rolo “I think it’s wonderful, Brother” Looks like Rolo is satisfied with how accurately pompous this Lelouch imposter is, unlike Sayoko’s non-arrogant version. But then, Nunnally appears:

Robot-Lelouch: “Nu-Nunnally...? Ooh! Sister of mine... My reason to live, my reason to fight. Ooh, Nunnally...” How much do I have to pay to see memoryless!Lelouch talking about Rolo like this? Mm, maybe there’s more info after I finish translating this event... *foreshadowing*

Robot: “Watch me, Nunnally. I will defeat the Original, and turn into your brother...” This yandere robot's way of thinking seems familiar.

Nunnally: “I’m telling you to please wait, robot version of Brother. I do not wish for conflict. Please, with a conversation...”

But the robot refuses to be stopped, so Nunnally ends up crying the words:

Nunnally “Such a Brother is not my Brother!” Causing the robot to explode. According to the real Lelouch, being rejected by Nunnally, it had an identity crisis and couldn’t retain its sense of self. ---- So that’s the story. But this is a Rolo blog, and here we want Lelouch to care about Rolo too, not just Nunnally. And again, in this event Rolo is the one talking to Lelouch, with Lelouch barely reacting to Rolo. It’s been too long... Will we ever see Lelouch worrying about Rolo again? Well, in fact!! The time has finally come!! New drama CDs will be released starting April 2023, called “Drama CDs with the book <Code Geass Lelouch of the Rebellion Student Council Radio Station Wave!> included”! Right now, I don’t think the list of voice actors has been released for each of the 6 volumes, so it might be that instead of the characters interacting with each other, we only get Milly or Lelouch narrating different stories. No matter how it is, some track summaries already mention Rolo! Vol. 1: 〇ルルーシュの日常 vol.1「保健室とお迎え」ある日、弟のロロがケガをして保健室にやってきたという一報を聞きつけ、慌てて保健室へと駆け込むルルーシュ。息も絶え絶えに到着するや否や、ルルーシュは保健室の先生に問いただすのであった。 Lelouch’s day-to-day vol. 1 “The school infirmary and welcoming someone” One day, Lelouch rushes to the infirmary when he hears that his younger brother Rolo is there with an injury. Gasping for breath as he arrived, Lelouch immediately interrogated the infirmary teacher. Vol. 4 〇実録！アッシュフォードスクールライフメモリー「ナイトオブラウンズが学生に!?　波乱の体験入学」ある日、生徒会の元に理事長からとあるお知らせが飛び込んでくる。それは、ナイトオブスリー、ジノ・ヴァインベルグ卿が学園への編入を前提に1日体験入学に訪れるというものだった。ルルーシュとロロが不在の中、生徒会ラジオの放送も差し迫り準備に大忙しの生徒会メンバーは大慌てでジノの体験入学に臨むのであった。 Real story! Ashford School Life Memory "Knights of the Round become students!? A turbulent open campus program" One day, the student council suddenly receive some news from the chairman: The Knight of Three, Lord Gino Weinberg, will visit them during a one-day open campus program on the premise of transferring to the academy. With Lelouch and Rolo absent, the student council members are very busy preparing the imminent student council radio broadcast, and have to deal with Gino’s open campus program in a panic. April 24th 2023 for the first one! I marked my calendar!

#rolo lamperouge #nunnally lamperouge #lelouch lamperouge #gino weinberg #student council radio station wave #translation #drama cd #genesic re;code #rolo and lelouch together please thank you!

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