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idyllic-affections · 5 months

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MORAL INJURY — a non-romance genshin impact series. ♫

written by aphelion & banner by @www-brontide!!

➤ SYNOPSIS :: il dottore's most respected and skilled agent—the lab assistant, [surname] [name]—has, regrettably, committed a high form of treason. after being on the run for several years, cautiously avoiding nations with high fatui activity and never once setting foot back in snezhnaya, they decide to build a new life under a new identity in a new nation—mondstadt. the flames have not yet settled, though, and their pursuer has not yet given up. a worringly life-threatening game of cat and mouse, indeed, but all [name] can do is shrug and say, "you get used to it after some time."

➤ CONTENT WARNINGS :: mild depictions of torture, blood, human experimentation, murder, kidnapping, abuse of power, dottore is his own warning fr, depictions of trauma and c-ptsd, self-hatred, survivor's guilt, etc etc.

➤ MAIN CAST :: il dottore (& some of his segments), pantalone, scaramouche, the tsaritsa, collei, aether + paimon, jean, nahida.

main cast members either appear often, are mentioned often, are relevant to the plot, or appear once but will appear again later!

➤ SUPPORTING CAST :: baizhu, beidou, tighnari, cyno, childe, krupp, elchingen.

supporting cast members either appear occasionally, are mentioned occasionally, or play their roles only once or twice and are not pivotal to the plot!

➤ UPDATE SCHEDULE :: to be honest, i update whenever i am ready to! there is no set schedule.

➤ NOTES :: as is true with all the content i create, there is no romance in this series. all relationships are strictly platonic and often familial. individual content warnings will be posted at the top of each chapter; the general content warnings on this post will be updated as time goes on and as new chapters are posted. the information in this post, particularly regarding the cast, may or may not change as i develop the story. i only have act i written/outlined; as such, nothing beyond that is set in stone.

➤ TAGLIST :: @www-brontide, @umgatochamadopercyval, @starryshinyskies, @zeldadou, @pookiebearcave, @lesanyanyas, @francisnyx. contact me through messages/asks/etc non-anonymously to be added.

➤ ACT I.

i silence. ii the motherland. tbd.

➤ ACT II.

tbd.

#: [ moral injury! 🌸 ]#platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #i don't know if either of my writing networks would accept this series LMAO #it gets kind of. Rough. especially in the early chapters #genshin impact series #genshin series #genshin angst #genshin fluff

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comradekatara · 1 month

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Would it be too broad a question to prompt for thoughts on a Yue & Azula dynamic? Idk if it’s rly that fun to ruminate on hypotheticals when Yue is the moon post s1, but I mean, we have contemplated the potential dynamics of Yue with other characters beyond s1 so I don’t see why not. Tbh I just thought it was interesting bc Yue has completely internalized her role within patriarchy as a symbol of the motherland etc etc. & Azula I think everyone esp w/in fandom tends to misconstrue as like. Autonomous & selfish & ontologically evil when her whole Deal is subservience to a “divine” patriarch & being molded into a perfect weapon. Or am I only thinking they would have an interesting dynamic bc as you’ve rightly said before, sokka & Azula as foils are already rly compelling & Yue is the female sokka?

lmfao yeah you basically said it all. yue and azula are both mirrors to sokka and also mirrors to each other. they each have “duties to their father and to their people” that they embody above all else, sublimating their personhood to perform obedience to their respective patriarchs. yue performs this role through denying her own agency and sacrificing herself, azula performs this role through dehumanizing herself and molding herself into a weapon, and sokka does all of the above. but in a more literal sense, yue and azula are both princesses (obviously sokka is also the son of the chief, but it’s a different situation because he’s also not a Girl) and so this is already a huge commonality between them, considering they’re the only two real princesses in the entire show (although you could argue that toph and mai functionally had similar upbringings). I think a lot of people envision azula and yue working together in an AU wherein the war never happened and so there was international cooperation that allowed for them to meet. that, or an AU wherein yue survives the siege and eventually meets azula. neither of these hypotheticals are particularly interesting to me, but I could see them getting along, because yue likes nerdy dorks who make bad jokes and kill people, and azula likes beautiful girls with shiny hair who are nice to her (to be honest I don’t even think they have to be beautiful, I think they just have to be nice to her, and being absolutely gorgeous is just a bonus). but it’s also kind of a pointless ship to me because there’s no real scenario wherein they’d interact, and sokka already functions as a proxy between both of them in the first place. and is he not dykey enough to satisfy your desires??? for shame.

#normally I understand ppl who want to make existing ships lesbian (im only human after all)#but with sokka ships im like . that is a lesbian you’re just looking at him from the wrong angle #sokkayue is literally a butch/femme couple……..#and sokkazula COULD be lesbians but everyone who ships them seems intent on exaggerating their heterosexuality so I cannot actually fw them #they’re so compelling hypothetically tho….#zukkacore #asks #analysis #yue #azula #sokka #I did write one AU a LONGASS time ago wherein azula and sokka switched places in the narrative #and in THAT scenario azula/yue could be cute #but like. get real.

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sapphicbookclub · 8 days

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Author Spotlight: Talia Bhatt

We're excited to highlight Talia Bhatt, author of the current club read Dulhaniyaa. Read on to hear how her identity and experiences informed her writing, and how queer love is a jailbreak.

“Desi trans lesbian” feels, sometimes, like an ephemeral identity.

I am situated nowhere transhistorically and barely transculturally, having to borrow the language, social trappings, and forms of identification of the nation(s) that colonized and impoverished mine to even express my embodiment and positionality coherently. In a world where Afsaneh Najmabadi can pose the question “Is any one of you a lesbian?” to a room full of Iranian transsexual women and get blank stares, as she relates in Professing Selves, or where Deepa Mehta notes in her groundbreaking lesbian romance Fire that Hindi lacks even a word to express the concept of a woman loving another intimately, romantically, carnally, I am unmoored and unfixed, an anomaly because I dare to imagine my transsexuality independent from men.

“Woman are for men”, assumes every culture with harsh patriarchal contradictions—which does not entirely exclude the West—and trans women doubly so, since the abhorrence of non-heterosexual modes of living and social organization leads many from cultures like mine to presume that a woman would only transition to be with a man. A profound loneliness dogs my very existence, alerting me to the wispy shadows of a shrouded past that barely had a record of women like me prior to the midpoint of the 20th Century, only whispers and rumors and sensationalist gossip scrawled in academic journal by Esther Newton, alluding to the idea of a “man” that, having availed of hormones and surgical interventions, now sleeps with lesbians—the scandal.

No ancestors that are mine to claim.

Dulhaniyaa is not a particularly melancholy book, though a certain pensiveness pervades the opening chapters. There a story within the story written in subtext, in allusions and word choices and snippets of dialogue, that Esha and Billu and Dolly and others are aware of: my homeland, my motherland, my culture and my nation and my state—it is not a place for queer women. It is certainly, emphatically, not a place for a trans woman who fancies herself still attracted to other women, or even indelibly non-binary in a way. Women like us have no names, no pasts, and almost certainly no futures within the narrow confines of the constructed and stifling heterosexual hegemony.

A reviewer was kind enough to sum up Dulhaniyaa for me better than I ever could, stating triumphantly that “Queer love is a jailbreak.” It’s a quote that has stuck with me both for how simply it states a core theme that I certainly labored to convey without necessarily consciously meaning to, as well as for how profoundly vast and unencompassable the prison I find myself in is. My shackles are Time and Language itself, my cell the land I was born in, my wardens its people. I am a refugee in a sense that many, many queer and especially trans people tend to be, evicted and disowned and erased from hearth and homeland.

I wrote Dulhaniyaa because someone broke me out of that cell. She saw the woman I was as well as the woman I could be, and helped me bridge the gap between the two. She is now my wife.

Queer love is a jailbreak. Get your pickaxes ready.

#wlw books #booklr #lgbt books #contemporary #book recs #sapphic books #diverse books #desi #bollywood #trans author #guest post

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yourlovermumu · 10 days

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so i was thinkingggg

should i do a bakugo and reader fanfic where its set in a desi setting? like indian, Pakistani, or bangladeshi setting.

and like the trope is slow burn and marriage of convenience. AND CHILDHOOD FRIENDS.

basically bakugo and your parents happen to be in the same social circle and so basically you and bakugo often saw each other at several parties and events such as weddings and family gatherings.

you guys were particularly close but werent exactly strangers to each other. growing up you, bakugo, and izuku would run off somewhere alone to play around at these events. but as you all grew older you both stopped showing up to these events as often. well...mostly bakugo. you and izuku would show up to these family events and such with your parents quite alot more then bakugo would.

you and bakugo stopped seeing each other as often eventually and drifted apart. the friendship and joy you two shared together as kids are now distant memories. especially with bakugo moving to japan to chase his ambition.

but soon enough after your twentieth birthday you hear his coming back and his parents are arranging a friendly gathering with close family and friends and that they are back in their motherland. and of course, your family is also invited.

you dont think much of it, really. its such another one of those events and family gatherings you have grown customed to growing up where you did.

it isnt odd in the slightest to get invited someone's home in occasions such as this.

but what is odd is the way your dupatta gets stuck in his watch and suddenly your not looking at anyone but him. but its not like he is in any better condition then you. he is also frozen. just staring. staring at you.

your eyes are locked with his and suddenly you dont seem to remember why you looked behind your back. why? because you felt a tug on your dupatta? thats not what matters to you right now. because with the air getting knocked out of you with the way his so far but...feels so close. you can see all the features of his face so clearly. he has certainly grown much, much more handsome in the time you two were apart for the past 7 years.

but did his eyes always look at you like? no...not when you two were kids, no.

and that fact only makes you all the more aware that you two arent just two kids sneaking away from your parents to play in a abandoned room in the far corner where no one will bother you both.

his a man. and your a women.

a soft chuckle from him breaks you out of your trance. its a intoxicating sound. his voice is deep, you note.

''not gonna untangle your dupatta, chutki?'' theres that sexy smug smile on his lips when he says that.

you cant help but roll your eyes at the nickname. its the same exact one he called you ages ago. but thats when you didnt even know where babies come from.

if it werent for his handsome face, he best bet you'd slap his face one way or another. just like old times.

but that lighthearted air that surrounded you both is now far gone with you sitting across from him. your parents at your side and his mother and father right by his.

the air is filled with grim air that only you and bakugo can sense. your parents seem to be in their little world.

their beating around the bush is obvious enough. you can already tell what this is about. and so can bakugo.

and non of you know how to feel about it. but one thing is clear, your both not kin on the idea.

''you two have grown of age. its time for marriage isnt that right?'' your mother says with a friendly smile on her face. and you so wish you could just bury yourself into a hole right then and there. sure you knew it would happen. your parents have been quite open about getting you married, saying its high time you give them a grandchild before they bite the dust. because apparently your elder sister and brother wouldnt. your brother is too focused with his multimillionaire company while your sister claims her job as a lawyer is much too demanding to spare time for marriage of all things. so now the pressure of marriage is upon you. but him? bakugo of all people? why?

you and bakugo both eye each other at your mother's words. surely...she cant be..?

''we think you two should get married. you two are a good match for each other.''

and all hell breaks loose. thats the sentence you were anticipating. bakugo is the first to express his disapproval.

''hell no! old hag are ya outta your mind?'' he shouts.

''you have to get married eventually. isnt it better to marry someone who your familiar with rather then a stranger? maybe there would have been more options open if only you didnt chase off girls by the mere sight of you, boy!'' his mother voiced. the volume of her words matching her voice.

bakugo grumbles at his mother's words, shooting her a glare.

you wanna escape. of course you do. because hell no were you gonna marry bakugo katsuki. no offense but that guy is NOT capable of being a good husband. you'd rather marry a beggar on the street then him. but its not like you can say that outright with several eyes on you.

''....abba, mami, is this...necessary?'' you gave both your parents an uncertain look. definitely trying to some how talk them out of this conversation and just go home. you cant bear to sit here and listen to this any longer.

''well...its already settled.''

you frown.

''what?''

''its settled. its not like you two would ever get married on your own record to begin with. so...your father and i as well as katsuki's parents decided that we set it up before you to can back out.''

what was to come now in your future married life?

(just a little thought lmfao lemme know if yall want me to write it <3)

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #mha #izuku midoriya #desi #indian #Pakistani #bangladeshi

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cononeillbreastingboobily · 3 months

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do you have like. a dream modern au for ofmd?

Oh my god, okay.

Disclaimer: the credit for the initial idea goes to my mum. I just built on it.

See this? This is a fragment of the riverside of Wisła, or Vistula if you're being fancy, as seen in Warsaw, Poland. It's been renovated over the years, and now it's bustling with activity throughout the warmer months, filled with restaurants, cafes, bars and beach clubs.

Now, picture this: Blackbeard's Bar & Grill, the trendiest eatery in the entire city. An upscale place, with a menu thought up by Edek, a mad genius. The way he combines his ingredients shouldn't work but it does.

So Ed's bar has been growing in popularity, but frankly? He's over it. And it would've been easy for him to walk out if it wasn't for the fact that the manager for the joint is his boy best friend/soulmate/bitter ex/beloved husband Iz (short for Izydor) and for some reason he doesn't like to think about too hard, Ed just can't bring himself to talk honestly to Iz about what he wants, possibly disappointing him, and the alternatives to their current lifestyle.

Enter Stede. Yes, Stede. He's from abroad, his mother was Polish. He's in the middle of a midlife crisis, and now, having ditched his bitch wife and kids, he decided what better to do now that he's up ended his whole life, than move to his motherland and open a shoddy little cafe at the riverside in Warsaw. Armed with a lot of money and even more enthusiasm, he collects a ragtag crew of employees, and soon Stede's is open for business! And the bar right next to it seems to be very popular...

I love this AU because there's just so much that could be done with it, even tho it's so specific. It could be Steddyhands, because Stede eats something he thinks was made by Ed and he loves it, but it turns out it was one of the rare occasions when Izzy goes inside the bar kitchen and actually cooks something. Cue lots and lots of misunderstandings, fanboy Stede, Ed who can't help falling for this new freak, Stede's appreciation for Iz waking up the long dormant feelings Ed has had for him, Izzy simply not dealing well with the attention and praise, and definitely crew employee shenanigans.

It could be the classic Blackbonnet because maybe Stede's enthusiasm for gastronomy reignites Ed's and they open a brand new restaurant together, or maybe they retire with Stede's inheritance and Ed's bar money.

It could be Gentlehands because Iz's no nonsense attitude is a reality check for Stede, maybe he helps Stede's cafe through a particularly big crisis, and throughout nightly meetings over business plans and sample menus they could find that they actually get along really well, and maybe there's an especially wine-heavy night that ends with both of them ending up in the same bed...

Finally, it could be Edizzy, because Stede's presence and his flourishing business could have Izzy go into panic mode about how they're going to cope if his café gets more popular than the bar&grill. This could prompt the two to finally Talk It Through, finding out that maybe, just maybe, they love each other and at the end of the day what really matters is that they're together. Maybe Ed, with his newfound appreciation of Iz could finally actually tell him how he feels, and then weee #divorcecancelled

Finally, it could be any and all flavours of Izzy x The Crew, because they see Izzy for the first time and immediately get the Wants To Fuck That Old Man disease. And brother? It's terminal.

Hehe :3c

#ofmd #ofmd au #ofmd modern au #edizzy #blackhands #gentlehands #stizzy #blackbonnet #ideally it's in polish #anon #ask #bulwary wiślane au #ofmd bulwary wiślane au

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zenithabovemarshland · 3 months

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Replying to this awesome post by @corvoidea on Pluto in Aquarius

corvi says:.

It is almost as though there was a massive focus and near-obsession in reflecting on home, family, the motherland, etc. and you see that reflected in the rise of Hollywood culture in the 1920s. Especially because the USA's birth chart has a Cancer Stellium in the 7th house. Of course, this hyper-focus on family and home in the United States also led to extreme issues in other parts of the world such as the rise of Hitler in Germany, Stalin in the Soviet Union, Benito Mussolini in Italy, etc. But relating it to Pluto in Capricorn - I think the current transit through the 1st house is breaking down a lot of those stories and bringing to light a lot of the not-so-great things that were happening. In the old days of Hollywood, as well as currently with the abuse of child stars (children = Cancer), as well as women and the exploitation they endured under other executives.

I just shared the reply where @luciddownloading wrote about the opposite sign getting Pluto-ed too, which feels really applicable in this convo. Pluto moving through the 1H-7H axis is a story of "good guys" and "bad guys", "me vs you", which would have started back with the terrorism fears in Pluto Sagittarius. So Pluto through 1H needs a "you", a "bad guy", an "other" to play out the story.

Now through the 2H, which will continue with Pluto Aquarius, the story is "ME, who DESERVES THIS" versus "YOU, the THIEVING BEAST". Does kind of make me think of the American Revolution last Pluto Capricorn.

I think a lot about the 1H and 2H. In the birth charts of individuals, when I talk to them about it, I feel like planets in the 1H almost don't even seem real to them. It's like they don't notice them, they're so innate to their experiences. But people notice what's in their 2H. It's a very personal, intense place. (Has to be; it's opposite the 8H.)

I also have this thing where I feel like "women", as a "class", is a 2H house. Like I personally feel like you can use derived houses to make the 2H the 1H of "women's lives" in society. (Also cause historically women "are" "property".) (I think it could be considered the same for any "subordinate" or subculture beneath the dominant culture.) I started thinking about this to try to have an answer for the popular thing online about how girlhood is monstrosity. This way, a woman's derived childhood house would be seen through the eyes of the first chart as 6H, of illness. And how what is a relationship to the first chart isn't equal, because it's to an 8H derived house, of sacrifice, mutilation, and control. A woman's (derived) 3H, of education and growing community, is the 4H of the dominant culture, and a woman's (derived) "roots" (4H), is the house of sex (5H) to the dominant culture.

Anyway, that you brought up the USA chart reminded me of this. Because looking at the birth chart of USA and Pluto transit goes through the 1H, a place that is so intrinsic to the nation's being it feels we can't touch or understand it. Then goes through the second house, that feels actionable but also savage, because 2H opposes 8H. With Pluto in Aquarius, the brutality of questions of value and possession will persist, as it has in history.

(I love that you brought up the USA chart. I didn't even think about it lol)

corvi also says:

I think Pluto in Aquarius is going to either: - Cause a cult-like mentality in terms of fame & celebrity, specifically in politics. - Cause people to push ordinary people into the spotlight whose work is geared toward the greater-good.

Yeah! I think this is what I was trying to get around to with my first examples, particularly with Gypsy Rose! I need to do more research about all that, though, cause I don't actually know anything about what she's up to today.

There is definitely a "death" going on right now when it comes to "traditional" celebrities and people's perception of who becomes famous and why, just as you mentioned. I think a lot of people are also slowly becoming more and more frustrated with hyper-vanity pushed by families like the Kardashians.

Which is ironic, I think, considering the Aquarius-Leo axis we're entering! I read through replies and what they've posted on their own blogs about Pluto Aquarius and some people believe social media's gonna (in my melodramatic words) implode and die. I kind of lean that way, too, just because of all the frustration that's been building with social media and technology, and the inklings of people quitting social media, opting for "dumb phones", etc.

People have also split about whether glamour and vapidity will become more popular, or less. I think the World Astrology Report on Youtube did a really cool video on Pluto in Aquarius worth thinking about, about the terms within Aquarius and how they played out 260 years ago. (I can't link the video cause I can't find it; he's made so many Pluto Aquarius videos I don't remember which one it was.) If I remember right, I think maybe around the Venus term, glamour may peak, and after that it may crash.

I hope Pluto in Aquarius causes a collective shift away from celebrities and causes people to be more focused on activists, writers, journalists, etc. who are fighting for human rights and the wellbeing of everyone. Of course, I could be completely wrong. Pluto in Aquarius could very well cause celebrities to become desperate to hold onto any influence they have and peddle in a very dystopian and strange kind of cult-like following via social media in ways we do not expect. It could also cause those who are hungry for fame and self-centered to resort to manipulation (Pluto) utilizing other forms of technology (Aquarius) to keep their power and influence (Pluto again) over the collective and communities (Aquarius).

I've been thinking about this, too. I don't know how "complete" Pluto's upsets are, y'know? I think in individual charts, Pluto transits may end up more "complete" by the end of its wanderings. But in mundane astrology I wonder if Pluto just digs everything up and says "deal with it" while it continues on its way. Our current stories aren't ending, just shifting. And how we're digging those things up is shifting. I wonder if the way we approach things might just be more Aquarian--which is still Saturnian--but it's still just the same old stuff. Just like what you said in the last paragraph.

What if AI is the enemy that pulls up the mirror? What if things really do go Terminator? Wasn't it critical thinking--a value of Capricorn--that dug the grave of Capricorn governance? How does it slide to activism, Truth, and righteousness?

We're already kind of seeing something happen, with Gaza, and the emphasis on Truth, and access to Truth Telling.

But at the least, as we saw in Pluto-Capricorn, the values of meritocracy and government were obliterated, and obliterated by its own example/history of merit and governing. At the very least, I think we can expect the Aquarian value of Truth to be obliterated by remembering our history just the same.

corvi also says:

I do think we are going to see a significant shift in the belief of who gets to be and power and why. But I think it will be a global shift that we are probably not ready for. ... I am a little worried about potential civil conflict and revolutions abroad. Despite the way Americans and other Westerners romanticize revolutions - revolutions are not "amazing" or empowering at all. They are violent, painful, and the people who suffer the most are civilians caught in the crossfire. And the power vacuum left behind can cause unimaginable suffering, as we saw with the Yugoslav Wars - which was led by many Pluto in Leo individuals who carried out genocide and other violence against civilians. I am hoping for the best. I would love to see more Carnation Revolutions & Velvet Revolutions and other non-violent overthrows of horrible people in power. My biggest hope for Pluto in Aquarius is true Democracy and freedom for everyone.

Absolutely. I trimmed your blurbs here, but I agree with the hope for non-violence. I wonder if freedom and non-violence is possible in a Saturnian sign, or an Air sign, and if it can be so with USA's Gemini Return coming up. (The Astrology Podcast has many episodes about the USA Uranus return in Gemini historically coinciding with war, like this one.)

Something I think about a lot is the atom bomb. That was Pluto in Leo, too. I thought it was important that Venus Rx in Leo this past summer saw the Oppenheimer movie for that reason. Maybe the story of that being fresh in mind can alter something in us.

I took a sociology of war class. Sociologists love to classify patterns in levels of society. I don't remember the whole thing, but there's one theory that ideological societies like ours--ones that ally themselves based on ideology as opposed to something like nationalism--has isolationist war. They are push-a-button wars; nuclear wars; wars that spur proxy wars in "less developed" areas to "play" their war for them. Seems very Aquariuan. Seems very Uranus in Gemini to me. But with everything in sociology, we gotta stop being so gloomy and hope for the best anyway lmao or our souls will die.

The Astrology Podcast also seems to be anticipating a change to democracy. The very idea of it scares me because I don't know anything else, but I do think that's a happier resolution than war. But I wonder if we won't see a "new democracy" until Pluto in Pisces, because I think Uranus in Gemini is going to be a big player. And wherever Neptune could be in all that, too.

#pluto in aquarius #astrology community #love u love u corvi xo

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renlyslittlerose · 1 year

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Do you have any thoughts or ideas about obi-Wan’a pov or thought process when he and anakin met in moonlight serenade?

The entire time i was just squealing. They’re too cute 🥰 that part where obi-wan was rubbing the patch on anakin’s shoulder just 😍☺️🥵 lol

I can do you one better, peach 💖

Catullus, or Ovid? - (2k)

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“You’re bluffing.”

Obi-Wan glanced up from his set of cards to look at Vos from across the table. Next to him Koon fussed with the buttons on his cuff, cards already abandoned. A small pile of peanuts lay in the centre, lint stuck on a few shells after they rolled in the sticky drops of beer that accumulated across every surface of the messy pub. Nearby a group of American paratroopers started singing a rousing rendition of ‘Glory, Glory, What a Hell of a Way to Die.’

Koon started humming along.

“I thought bluffing was part of poker,” Obi-Wan said idly.

“It’s an American tradition,” Vos said.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is you’re a Brit - you’re not supposed to be good at this game.”

Despite Vos’ cutting words, he was grinning.

“I could be telling the truth,” Obi-Wan remarked. He sat back in his chair, finger tapping the back of his cards.

Vos shook his head and tossed a few more peanuts into the pile. “You’re definitely bluffing.”

Obi-Wan shrugged and added to the pile. Another moment passed before they both set their cards down on the table. Obi-Wan couldn’t help his laugh when he saw Vos’ expression.

“I believe this is what you American’s call a ‘flush’,” Obi-Wan said.

“It seems he wasn’t lying,” Koon said. He started cleaning his glasses, a small quirk to the corner of his lips as he rubbed the white cotton against the dense lenses.

Leaving Vos to his griping, Obi-Wan grabbed the peanuts and pulled them toward his already substantial pile. He’d only just learned the game a few months ago when the American’s started arriving, bringing their gambling and music to lighten the somber mood of the motherland. He couldn’t say he was particularly fond of poker, but it was a fright better than billiards - a game that Obi-Wan was decidedly terrible at.

“Another round?” Vos asked, voice rising above the sudden burst of sound coming from another corner of the pub. Obi-Wan glanced over Koon’s shoulder to see someone - he wasn’t sure which branch - had fallen from their stool and was receiving quite the ribbing.

“I should head out soon,” Obi-Wan said, counting his peanuts. He had a meeting early in the morning, his Lieutenant Colonel not understanding the term ‘leave’ unless it was his turn to offload his duties on to others.

“You can’t quit now - not when you’ve got all my peanuts!” Vos cried out.

Obi-Wan was about to tell Vos he’d just have to win them back another time, when a gust of air hit the table. He glanced up from his winnings to see two airmen walking into the pub, shoulders hunched as they tussled their way toward the back corner toward a fellow airman who’d been guarding his table for the last fifteen minutes. Obi-Wan was about to go back to his peanut counting when he caught sight of the slimmer one of the group.

He was tall and broad chested, filling out the Russian blue uniform like he’d grown up in it. The sharp angles of the material wrapped around his waist and draped across the swell of his behind, crisp and neat trousers dropping down to well polished black boots. Looking back up, Obi-Wan caught sight of the man’s profile, and almost dropped his peanuts when the man took his cap off and tossed it carelessly on to the table.

Obi-Wan was immediately struck by how classically beautiful he was. His profile was elegant, as if it belonged on a coin from ancient times, his nose regal and lips plump and full, pressed into a pretty little pout that Obi-Wan wanted to study further. His hair was a beautiful honey brown, curls barely constrained by the pomade he’d applied, the firm gel making his hair shimmer beneath the yellow light of the pub. But perhaps most beautiful of all was his eyes - a deep blue that sparkled when he smiled, his attention fixed on the men at his table as they tucked into their pints that had begun to go flat.

He looked like he’d been plucked from the Iliad and dropped into Piccadilly, refined and elegant but still human, still slightly bent.

“Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan blinked and looked back at Vos. He quirked a brow and sat back, peanuts abandoned.

“Are you alright?” Koon asked.

Obi-Wan smiled tightly and coughed behind his hand. “Just had a revelation, nothing to worry about. How about another round, hm?”

They played a few more games, Obi-Wan keeping his attention half on his cards and the rest on the man in the corner. He was on his second pint, and there was a delightful shade of pink to his cheeks that poked out from beneath the bronze of his skin. Obi-Wan wondered what it would be like to press his nose against his temple and feel his curls tickle, or what it would be like to hold his narrow waist beneath his hands, tugging, pressing, pulling him in closer.

Obi-Wan then wondered if the man had ever been to the sorts of parties that Obi-Wan attended, held in the halls of permanent bachelors, a copy of Plato’s Symposium left on a table, rich spirits thick on their pallets, cigar and cigarette smoke heavy in the air with the sound of male voices carrying through the space. He then wondered if the man would like to attend such a party.

Eventually the man rose from the table, elbowing his way toward the counter. A spike of excitement shot through Obi-Wan then, quick and jittery, the same sort of sensation Obi-Wan felt just before he squeezed the trigger on a rifle.

“I’m feeling parched,” he said and rose from his seat.

“You’ve still half a glass,” Koon said.

Obi-Wan waved him off, attention fixed on the man as he leaned against the counter. Slipping up next to him, Obi-Wan bumped their shoulders together, dragging the man’s attention away from the bartender. Or rather, the boy’s attention. He was younger up close, skin perfectly smooth and unblemished, cheeks still a delightful shade of pink. There was a little beauty mark on the corner of his chin, a beautiful little thing that marked him as something other than an immortal trickster god, come down to tempt and tease and pleasure.

“Terribly sorry,” he said.

For a moment Obi-Wan almost regretted approaching him. He was young, Obi-Wan feeling his greys just looking at him. But then their eyes locked and that little jolt hit him again, and he wet his lips before speaking again. “Are you alright?”

The boy hesitated, plush lips parted in surprise. And then he spoke, and Obi-Wan felt his chest squeeze at the sound of his voice, soft and delicate and so terribly rapturous.

“Yeah, sorry. I was just… caught of guard.”

Obi-Wan leaned in closer, wanting to hear more of the tone of his voice, feel it against his cheeks and lips, suffuse his breath with his own. His accent was light and clean, charming in a way that Obi-Wan had come to appreciate after hearing it for the last several years. Obi-Wan had never visited Canada, but he wanted to now - wanted to go and see where this marvelous creature had been crafted, his body formed from bronze with gold for lashes and inset with lapis lazuli for eyes. He wondered if the boy held the same figure as the statues of old - with strong thighs and a soft belly, still supple from youth.

Qui-Gon had once told Obi-Wan he was a terrible romantic, his head stuck in the ancient agora. At the time Obi-Wan had been offended - he was nothing if not practical, grounded, chained to the earth. But seeing the airman before him, primped and polished in his uniform, cheeks pink with merriment and drink, lips still parted in a soft pout, Obi-Wan was beginning to realize that perhaps Qui-Gon was right about him all along.

The boy’s beauty was only heightened by his impertinence, his remarks quick and sharp, followed by his humility as he stuttered out an apology. Obi-Wan pressed in closer as they waited for their drink, and couldn’t help but raise a brow when the boy presented his assortment of coins to him, trying to play coy.

“I get all mixed up trying to figure out your coin system. Mind helping me out?” he said, voice still just as soft, just as pretty.

A moment passed where Obi-Wan thought he was just oblivious to the tone of their conversation and the heat in his gaze. Maybe he wasn’t curious about Catullus, but was more partial to Ovid. But then they locked eyes, and Obi-Wan knew that this was an attempt. Perhaps not the most graceful, but still enticing - exciting in a way that made Obi-Wan’s heart beat a little faster.

“I’m quite sure you know which ones are which by now.”

He touched the boy then, fingertips sliding across his palm, collecting the appropriate coins. The boy watched his movements, and Obi-Wan noted the pinkness in his cheeks had gone even darker.

So Catullus it was…

“I’m a slow learner…” the boy said, as if Obi-Wan would fall for another lie.

“Not if you’re a pilot, you’re not.”

Their drinks arrived and Obi-Wan grabbed his, grateful for something to hold on to. The boy sent him a small smile that threatened to uproot him from the very ground. It was as if a Jerry’s bomb had gone off nearby, Obi-Wan’s ears ringing, the very basis of his being shaken. For a second he thought he might pitch into the bar, but he steadied himself with the drink and thanked the boy for it, before going back to his table.

He ignored Vos’ lingering looks.

“Are you alright?” Vos asked.

Obi-Wan nodded and drank half his pint in one go. The bitter malt grounded him further, but it also emboldened him. He needed to know the boy - needed to touch his skin and feel the fine downy hairs along his thighs. He wanted to taste the sweat on his skin, along his neck and down his collar. He needed to see and admire the hallowed places of his body, touch and mark and bite the supple flesh on offer.

He needed to know him in all his glory.

With that final thought Obi-Wan pushed up from the table and grabbed his cap.

“It’s been a pleasure, gentleman, but I’ve really got to go,” he said.

“Pleasant evenings,” Koon said.

“You owe me another game when we’re both in town,” Vos said.

Obi-Wan nodded and slipped out the door, catching the boy’s intense eyes from across the way as he did so.

He didn’t have to wait long - just long enough for his nerves to settle and his heart to beat faster, a thunderous thing against his breast that made him feel like a young man all over again, inexperienced and hopeful. When the door opened, spilling light into the darkened streets, Obi-Wan thought for a moment it would be someone else coming through the door. But then the flash of blue and the peek of golden hair from beneath an officer’s cap caught Obi-Wan’s eyes, and he couldn’t help but smile as the boy stepped into the dark to join him.

He held his hand out, and sighed softly as their hands locked, palms flush together.

“Glad you came,” he said, and he realized he sounded out-of-breath. “I realized I never properly introduced myself. I’m Major Kenobi, but you can call me Obi-Wan.”

The boy smiled, Obi-Wan catching it in the dark. “Flying Officer Skywalker. But most call me Anakin.”

Anakin.

He could feel Anakin - his name, his presence, his very being - sink into the very marrow of his bones, and in an instant Obi-Wan knew that Anakin would be a touch he’d never forget; a sound he’d never lose the tune of; an experience he’d never grow tired of.

“Shall we go for a walk?” he asked, their hands still touching, still locked tight like both were afraid they’d slip away if they did.

Anakin nodded. “I’d love that.”

#obikin #star wars fanfiction #lemon fanfiction #ask #anon #anon ask #reply

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bluewaltz · 1 year

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🐋 — [ Tartaglia. ] 👤 — [ gender neutral reader. ] 🏷️ — [ enemies to lovers, good ending, fluff. ] 📜 — [ fic. ]

You had a mission. Kill the Eleventh Harbinger, through any means necessary.

You had heard the tales. He's a monster, a killing machine that brought with him devastation and ruin. The Vanguard of the Tsaritsa, and someone who crawled out of the Abyss.

It was insanity. Your higher ups must have known that sending one person to kill Tartaglia was a death sentence. But you would carry it out, regardless.

You didn't know what you expected, but it certainly wasn't this lanky, awkward young man, talking with the confidence of a Harbinger. Your organisation had managed to sneak you into the Fatui as a new recruit, and you had been posted to Liyue, which was apparently under his jurisdiction.

"I wish you all glory; glory to the Tsaritsa, glory to our motherland, and glory to yourselves. Dismissed. Your captains will tell you what you will be doing, and Y/N? A word, please?"

You pushed past the crowds, uncaring of how all eyes were on you. Tartaglia was waiting for you, a small smile on his lips. Again, you wondered how he could seem so young.

"You weren't listening at all, were you? Did I bore you?" Tartaglia leaned forward, his tone one of mild curiosity.

You fought the urge to reach for your weapon, instead focusing on keeping your breathing even.

"No sir. Sorry sir, it won't happen again." You replied crisply.

To your surprise, Tartaglia threw his head back and laughed like he'd heard the joke of the century.

"Sir? Why so formal, recruit? Call me Childe; everyone here calls me that." Tar- Childe said, his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Understood, Lord Childe." You said carefully, testing the word out on your tongue.

Childe clicked his tongue, looking pleased. "Okay, that's a start. I know exactly where you'll be working. Katya!"

A Fatuus hurried over, turning to Childe.

He turned to you with a conspiratorial grin and whispered loudly, "Ekaterina here takes care of the shady side of things at the bank, so I can go out and play Harbinger without the metaphorical blood on my hands."

"Need I remind you of the times you appeared in the bank with blood all over you, sir?" Ekaterina replied drily, and you noticed that she didn't seem to use that reverent tone of respect most recruits did.

"It's just blood, and it wasn't mine."

"Blood doesn't wash out of carpets easily, and you're lucky it was closing time then." She turns to you, and despite how her face was obscured by the mask, you got the feeling that she was sizing you up.

"Is this who you want, sir?"

"Give them an office at the bank, okay? I'll be going now, I just came back from Inazuma!"

The two of you watched Childe hurry away, his figure shrinking into the distance.

"Good luck."

"What?"

Ekaterina turned to you, her voice dripping with pity.

"Childe isn't an easy boss. Come with me."

Your days at the bank were long and dreary. It wasn't so bad, but there was a lot of work to be done. Mostly it was just the Qixing nitpicking some small detail or other, and your days were filled with passive aggressive letters insisting that the other party was far too kind, and that you would remember this.

All well and fine, until Childe crashed into your office like a dust devil.

"Y/N, can you fight?"

Your first thought was that the bank was under attack. Your second thought was that your cover had been blown, and your hand twitched towards the polearm that always remained just out of arm's reach.

"A little. I'm not too good at it, though." Technically not a lie, since you specialized more in subterfuge and assassination.

Childe seemed appeased by this response, gesturing for you to follow him.

He left the bank at an easy pace, exchanging greetings and words with people on the street. Vendors seemed particularly enthused to see him, and some even asked him where their "source of income was", whatever that meant.

He always replied with a sunny smile, and more than a few times you had to remind yourself that this was a bloodthirsty creature you were dealing with.

He brought you to a wide, empty field, and you suddenly remembered something.

Being the secretary of the Eleventh Harbinger, you heard things.

Things like how he would wheedle his way into spars with recruits, and he would always leave the field looking refreshed while the recruits all looked haggard.

To be picked for a spar with Childe was to have all the flaws of your technique pointed out with a smile. But it was also a good way to see how he fought.

So you let him tug you into position, and you watched as he pulled his bow into existence, seemingly giving you the first move. Not one to let go of an opportunity, you dashed forward, drawing your sword and aiming for his chest.

You longed for your polearm, but it was unwise to show your hand so early. The sword was shorter than what you were used to, but it would be fine.

Childe sidestepped, using his bow to send quick flickers of water at you, throwing you off. All the while, he was watching you intently.

You kept attacking, and he kept dodging. This frustrating game kept up until his face lit up. Then, with a casual gesture, your sword went flying out of your hands.

"You've got a strange style," Childe commented, catching your sword and inspecting it. "I think you would be more suited to a polearm, not a sword. Or, you were trained with a polearm, anyway."

"You barely fought me." You gritted out, glaring at Childe.

He shrugged and passed your sword back. "I didn't have to."

And just like that, another event was added to your repetitive routine. Paperwork, think of a way to murder Childe, and occasionally, indulge him with a spar.

When you took out your polearm and fell into a familiar stance, Childe's eyes lit up, and he actually did trade blows with you this time, though you could tell he was barely using his strength. But he disarmed you easily enough, which put an end to your plans of facing him in head on combat.

You wondered if he checked his food for poison, but then you dismissed it. Too risky, and if he didn't die, he would know who you were, and the mission would be ruined.

As you plotted in circles, you became aware of Childe's tells. How he lied, how he smiled when he never meant it. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and you wondered how anyone could fail to kill this bumbling man.

Childe's behaviour was becoming erratic and strange. Some days, he would be cheerful and bubbly, always chatting incessantly and overly generous. Those were his most common moods.

But recently, he had been moodier of late. More volatile, easier to provoke. He lost more of his spars like that, but he didn't seem to really mind. In fact, he seemed happier after those defeats, often treating you to a meal.

It happened during lunch. The two of you were at Wanmin, and Childe was regaling you with a particularly tall tale about a sea snake and a fishing rod when suddenly, his hand shot out.

Your head was snapped down, and Childe let out a hiss of pain. You scrambled out of your seat, looking down at the neat round hole burned into his arm and the smoking bullet bobbing in your soup.

Childe stood up, ignoring how his arm hung limply. His eyes were cold and dead now, scanning the rooftops and balconies.

"Lord Harbinger-"

"There." Childe hummed, and in the blink of an eye, something zipped past you. You only survived because he wasn't focused on you, but you felt the touch of electro-charged water against your cheek.

Electro? But how did he…

"Y/N, we have to go."

This was your chance. He was injured and distracted, you could easily plunge a fork or your knife into his chest and shock his heart to a standstill.

You grabbed his bleeding arm, ignoring the startled hiss. Of course he'd forgotten about the wound.

"Lord Harbinger, you're injured. Perhaps you should recuperate before tracking them down." You murmured. "People are looking."

"Fine." He snarled, summoning some Hydro to wipe up the blood and pick up the bullet.

He didn't let you touch him all throughout the walk back to the bank, and when he reached the bank, his murderous expression kept people from asking after his arm.

You retreated to your office to get a medical kit and returned to Childe surveying the bullet, turning it this way and that in its watery prison.

"Interesting build." Childe's voice was conversational, and you pulled up a chair to him and started working on the wound.

"What is, sir?"

Childe made a dismissive noise. "Just call me Childe. And I was talking about this bullet. It has been imbued with pyro energy, so touching it would burn very badly."

You tried to school your expression. That sounded like the work of your organisation. Bullets that cauterized the wound as it went, with a dense knot of pyro energy that would dissipate after a while.

But why would they steal your kill? You were promised Tartaglia. This didn't make any sense, so you just made an affirmative hum and continued to bandage his arm.

"Is that all you got?" Even pinned under your weapon, Childe still had that cocky light in his eyes, and he pressed his throat closer to the tip of your spear. A spar. that was all it was supposed to be, until he let slip that he knew your intentions and all of a sudden, it had become far more dangerous.

"Come on," he cooed. "You can kill me right here, right now. Unless you like seeing me helpless like this?"

"Shut up, Harbinger."

Childe sighed heavily, sounding very put upon. "I thought we were getting along swimmingly. What's with the sudden change in attitude?"

"Don't play dumb."

Childe snickered. "But it makes you so mad."

"You're not scared?"

"Why would I be afraid of you?" He cocked his head, sounding genuinely confused. "You were a spy sent by an organisation to do an impossible task. But you still tried anyway. Isn't that enough?"

"I-"

"There's no use arguing." Childe pushed your spear away from his throat and sat up. "I did my research; the organisation simply wanted an easy way to get rid of you."

You gritted your teeth. You had long suspected it, but hearing it laid out so simply… it stung. Discarded like an old tool in order to make way for others.

"So? Are you going to kill me now?" You asked.

Childe burst out laughing. "Ha! I'm not letting myself get used like some attack dog for an enemy organisation. My loyalty belongs to the Tsaritsa alone. Of course I'm not going to kill you."

"What?" You were baffled. Was he really going to let an enemy live like that? But Childe didn't seem to sense your disbelief, his brow scrunched in an adorable furrow.

"I don't see why I need to kill you. Ekaterina already spent so much time training you to be my secretary, and it'd be a shame to put all her hard work to waste."

"I…"

Childe grinned. "Of course, you can still try to kill me. But I will try my best to continue thwarting your efforts."

Well. Who were you to look a gift horse in the mouth?

#🖋️ — [ outgoing. ]#tartaglia #childe tartaglia ajax #childe genshin impact #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #gender neutral reader #childe x gender neutral reader

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strangerthings4theories · 2 years

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I found the smoking gun.

Y'all, the Duffers played us for absolute fools 😂 Now I know why they included that Sherlock Holmes quote in the season.

Here's the Russian cell block they showed us at the end of S3. (Apologies for the shitty pics of my TV 😆)

Look carefully. How would you describe the place? Well, it's definitely underground. No windows or natural light. Dark, grimy, dingy. The doors are rusted. The Demogorgon is kept close by and routinely fed prisoners. But when one guard tries to grab this prisoner, the other says, "No. Not the American," as if he's too valuable to be monster chow.

This is where the Russians keep Hopper:

Above ground. Windows and natural light. Grey stone walls. Green doors with minimal rust. Hopper even has a window in his cell. No one really knows about the Demogorgon beyond whispered rumors. Hopper doesn't know it's here until he's sent to the arena... which, btw, shows you the Russians don't particularly mind feeding him to the Demogorgon. Hell, they don't seem to care whether he lives or dies at all. He's just a brute who can swing a hammer.

None of this is a continuity error, either. Hopper makes his way to the underground wing with a flamethrower in Vol 2.

Hopper was never THE AMERICAN.

The American is kept underground in a max security wing.

The American is too valuable to be fed to the Demogorgon, which tells us that...

...the American is useful to "the Motherland" for more than manual labor.

They probably have plans for him. Big plans. They want to find out what he's capable of. They may have even given him a number. The number 8, perhaps? Yes I am indeed suggesting the Duffers planted the number 8 as a red herring. Hopper's been a red herring this whole time

"The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes." --Sherlock Holmes as quoted by Dustin

#billy hargrove #jim hopper #billy hargrove is alive #stranger things theory #stranger things analysis #kamchatka #stranger things spoilers #new prediction: billy goes by 'vosem' in prison #which is russian for the number eight #billy hargrove is the american

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missguomeiyun · 28 days

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AYCE dimsum

1st of its species in Edm .. AYCE dimsum @ Top One.

Located on Whyte Ave, this restaurant used to be a Korean/Japanese fusion place.

I came to this place for lunch on a Tues in mid-February. To be exact, I came on Feb. 13. From my knowledge, a lot has changed since my visit. Therefore, I will only be sharing my experience here (maybe at the end I'll share what I heard from my coworker's experience, which was 2 weeks after mine).

Okay, 1st off. I got this picture menu. I think this was suitable & useful.

The 2nd piece of paper. Also laminated, this is the ordering sheet. It has the table number as well as the check-out time. When they 1st opened, it was 2hr limit. When I went, that became 90mins; however, the lady said bcos it wasn't busy, they gave extra 20mins, which was 110 haha still not the full 120min but. .. that's the most you could get :P

Their system was actually very efficient. When I heard AYCE dimsum, I had assumed it was the traditional 'pick up whatever you want' from a communal area with steamed dishes. That was NOT it, at all.

So what did happen was. .. we filled out round 1 on the sheet. The staff lady would take the sheet into the kitchen & prep the stuff (& bring out the items as they're prepared). Once the order is complete, they will bring back an empty order sheet.

Of note, there were some minor ordering details. ..

I'm sure you see the wastage fee in the upper right corner. Keep that in mind.

& also, the lady told us that during busy times, tables of diners can only max 5 items per person per round of ordering. For instance, if you have a party of 2, during busy hrs, the 2 of you can order max 10 unique items (doesn't matter the quantity of each one; they only care about unique items). The reason for this was to ensure every table gets something, & the kitchen isn't just prepping your order.

Waiting for our round 1~ It's really unlike a dimsum restaurant haha

Took some time to see the back. The interior is same as before when it was the Korean/Japanese place. (I've been here once)

I don't know much about their hot pot but it's by weight & only available during dinner service. The AYCE dimsum service, at the time of my visit, is available all day (till they close). Of course, you can't order both kinds of service at your table. Everyone has to only do dimsum OR hotpot.

The standard: shrimp dumplings & the siu mai.

The siu mai was good; decent size, flavour was good. Freshly steamed. The shrimp dumplings - not so good even though also freshly steamed.. The dough/wrap portion was kind of stiff. The filling was alright though.

Ribs: good. Looks sad but you can always order more. I didn't eat chicken feet.

Xiao long bao was mediocre. I think you gotta be reasonable for certain things. For AYCE where I expected to just grab from a table, these were freshly steamed when the order sheet comes in so I felt it was decent. Also, the lady said they order from a supplier for most things so . .. I mean, it's not really the restaurant, it's the supplier. I think the xiao long bao is better than the store-bought frozen ones but lacking compared to other places. The beef ball, I didn't have bcos it contains the dried mandarin peel stuff, which I dislike in meat balls.

Pan-fried rice rolls. Okay, this was good as is but misleading in terms of what the name suggested. Pan-fried rice rolls should have a bit of the umm. .. well, evidence of pan-fried-ness lol these were pan-fried but VERY slightly. They lacked the crispy edges. But, like I said, flavour was good (just simple soy sauce) & the rice rolls were soft, so I don't particularly have anything to complain about. Just. .. didn't match what I expected.

Now this one is the steamed plain rice roll. This was legit like the Cantonese stuff that I've had in the motherland, which was pleasantly surprising. This kind of plain rice roll is essentially a large sheet & it steamed/scrunched up like this. Unlike the typical steamed rice rolls you see in dimsum restaurants in Edm (the ones that contain some sort of filling, whether it's BBQ pork or beef or shrimp). I REALLY liked this! It had no flavour on its own but it comes with peanut sauce. Each table also has chili sauce & soy sauce so you can customerize your 'flavour'. I chose the ribs juice from above & soy sauce.

Deep fried shrimp wontons: 10/10!

The curry squid. .. okay, they brought out a 'cold' one in error. They were really nice about it when I told them that it was cold.

The hot "ready" one; I give .. 8.5/10. Honestly, I think it was actually good to realize they do steam things fresh. Like that 1st dish of curry squid was literally... not ready.

Round 2!

Pan-fried shrimp cake & chiu chow dumpling. I don't like this kind of dumpling so I didn't commit to any lol the shrimp cake was not bad. It had a lot of shrimp but also a lot of vegetables. I've never had shrimp cake like this before.

Pork + century egg congee. This was delicious!!

Wonton in chili oil. We ordered 2 just for trying purposes but got 5. We would've kept it if we liked it but ended up sending 3 back into the kitchen (didn't want to pay wastage fee when we didn't even order that many). The wonton was good but the sauce was not. I had imagined it was like. .. a diff chili oil. This was chili oil mixed with red vinegar - it's a northen Chinese thing, I later found it. Had that Szechuan numbing spice in there. I just wasn't a fan but. .. maybe you will be!

Wings were kinda dry but pretty good; flavour was 'original' haha ie: salt. Spring rolls = no good. They were the grocery store frozen kinds & contained mushy vegetable inside.

Soy sauce chow mein. GOOD! Freshly made & you can smell the wok-smokiness.

Eggtarts . .. 8/10. Others have high standards for egg tarts but for me, my biggest thing is the filling. Not the amount, not the ratio with the crust . . just the flavour & texture itself. I dislike egg-y ones & ones that are too sweet. This was not bad but the texture was not as smooth as I would have liked it to be. May have been over-baked. But otherwise, the crust was okay. I also dislike flaky crust lol & this one wasn't very flaky.

Coconut jelly. It was alright. Refreshing, that's for sure.

Osmanthus jelly & mango pudding. The jelly was really not my thing. The texture was weird! & I generally don't like floral-y things. The mango pudding though. .. 10/10!

Alright, so what my coworkers experienced. .. they also went on a weekday for lunch, when it wasn't busy but they were given a strict 90mins. It was enough for them so they didn't mind. Plus, they didn't like the food so they were looking forward to leaving :( they had a smaller menu (like maybe 33% smaller than mine) that was presented on an iPad with some items being unavailable, which made the list even shorter! They also said they paid more than $23.88/person. Altogether, more expensive with fewer food options & strict time limit . .. & 'bad' food. Now I feel terrible for recommending. But hey! When I went, it wasn't like that =(

#food #whyte ave #dimsum #chinese food #lunch #buffet #ayce #dimsum buffet #top one

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lafcadiosadventures · 10 months

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Madame Putiphar Readalong. Book Two, Chapter Twelve:

“Where is my lord? where is my Romeo?” signals the beginning of Book Two.

(For any new followers wanting to read this novel in English you can do it now, here! )

this british anti-catholic, pro anglican illustration is not the perfect fit for this chapter,,, but i like it and it has a wolf.

As the lovers separate and move away from the home-as-prison, we start a new section of the novel. We also say goodbye to Ireland for the rest of the novel, and dive into the French fraction of the book.

It starts with Patrick struggling with not wanting to leave Deborah alone, and trying to reconcile his situation with pre-existent ideas of honor/courage. He knows he has to leave, and that staying next to her is really pointless (given that he’d not be allowed to sit by her side and take care of her. plus he could be killed, and dying if she lived on would be pointless, thinks Patrick) but he still feels guilty for running from the killer’s blade.

I wouldn’t have thought much of it with other author, but given how important canines are for Borel, I think it’s worth mentioning that Patrick gets compared to a dog (howling like a dog outside the house where its master agonizes) and a wolf (once he takes the choice to leave Cockermouth Castle and runs bravely into an unknown fate)

Sad, full of doubt and regret, Patrick leaves Ireland by ship. As the shores of his motherland grow blurry, Patrick weeps not only for Debby, but for his only mother, his country.

Once in French soil we meet through Patrick the Irishmen who have been forced to emigrate for years since the English invasion, forced to fight for another country.

Borel praises the relentless men whose “valor and genius proclaims the history of the continent and of the new world” (can’t help but think of Guillermo -William- Brown, 1st admiral of the incipient Argentine navy and fighter against empires in the Latin American Independence wars)

Patrick is taken under the wing of one of these Irish immigrants: -a scene that must have caught Janin’s attention in a powerful way since he felt the need to pastiche it in a clumsy but detailed way in his review- Monsignor Richard-Arthur Dillon, Archbishop of Narbonne, a historical figure and a noted libertine.

What follows is a picaresque scene (and in line with Borel writing not only a philosophical/social-critique/anti-authoritarian/with-elements-of-fairytale-logic/novel, but a multigenre pastiche of European literature as a whole) we get in this scene the clichés of the lover hiding behind the curtain, and the lecherous priest/in this case "sexually active priest " would be more fitting/, a figure Borel returns to in the Caverne d'Arcueil.

Social critique is brandished here in an almost gentle way? (imagine a Dillon type in Sade's hands) This is perhaps partially because the narrator assumes Patrick’s pov: Dillon recieves him merely wearing his bath robe, and invites him to his bedroom (he is not really even trying to hide his un-chaste activities... or is he inviting Patrick to join him and his lover?) Nevertheless the narrator claims one could have thought he had been praying, were it not for the scattered pieces of women’s clothes Patrick’s eyes keep falling at, and the sound of breathing coming from behind the bed’s curtains. You can tell from the playful tone Borel is just having fun building up the subtext, claiming that Dillon should have been the Bishop of the Opera House, that he was in a particularly great mood that morning, deeply predisposed to tenderness... (adressing the readers directly as well, plural vous and all, building up the complicity)

But Patrick rejects the implications because he can’t believe a priest would not be chaste. (his hardcore naivité is very ‘Pure and Innocent Protagonist in a French Philosophical Novel of the 18th Century’) The other unusual thing-to his experience- and second element of anticlericalism Patrick notices, is the opulence. The man is loaded, lives like a prince, unlike the other catholic priests he has encountered in Ireland.

Patrick continues to tell his story and Dillon’s hidden lover cannot hold back any longer, springs from behind the alcove’s courtains, and is pleasantly surprised that the touching narration was issued by a man of strikingly Ossianic beauty! (the song of ossian: a literary hoax, an original work written in the 1700’s whose author claimed to be a translation of a manuscrip wrtitten by a Scottish Bard. Fun fact: Napoleon adored the Ossianic saga and much of his imagery in paintings of the 1st stage of the empire is based on an Ossianic aesthetic. The connection here is not bonapartist, but celt. My edition claims the originality of the work was still being debated in the 19th century)

She enthusiastically declares her loyalty and undying friendship to him, Dillon swears to become his protector... Kissing Dillon’s forehead, his mistress declares Patrick has become her new favorite (echoes of François 1er’s wife having the king “gift” Benvenuto Cellini to her as a lover) Patrick shyly calls himself her slave... They part, but Dillon urges Patrick to return often, his door always open for him, etc (we just witnessed a sex pact, the difference is that Patrick seems too naif to understand what might be expected in exchange of Dillon’s protection? Or is he.)

Patrick bows and kisses the bishop’s emerald, but wholeheartedly asks for his benediction.

Next we get a frankly balzacian (not implying Borel is spoofing his style, it’s just reminiscent of it to me) paragraph explaining the workings of a sinner’s soul, how their volubility makes them emminently generous because they follow boundlessly every whim of their souls, both the good and the bad, Marie Magdalene allusions, the works.

The quid of the matter here, is that Patrick’s beauty and aristocratic descent assured him protection, leading to social ascent. “Parvenir! Parvenir a tout prix”, Patrick says NOT since he is Not in a Balzac novel.

And this is where the chapter ends: we meet two characters the reader would be wise to keep an eye on: Fitz-Harris’ Patricks long estranged childhood friend, and Colonel Marquis de Villepastour...

#madame putiphar #putiphar posting #long post #text post #putifridays: le retour

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mariacallous · 9 months

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More and more women are joining Ukraine’s fight against the Russian invasion, but while they can now take on the same roles as men, the challenges they face are very different.

Since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, more than 11,000 women have voluntarily joined the ranks of Ukraine’s armed forces.

“From the first day of the war, women along with men stood in queues at territorial recruitment centres to join the defence of our Motherland,” Lieutenant General Serhii Naev, commander of the United Forces of the Armed Forces of Ukraine, said on June 22 this year.

Some of them have taken on the most dangerous assignments, becoming machine gunners, snipers and tank gunners, firing grenade launchers and mortars.

As of early 2023, at least 600 women had expressed their desire to join eight new assault brigades – the Offensive Guard – tasked with pushing Russian troops out of occupied parts of Ukraine.

‘No right to make a mistake’

Armed conflict in eastern Ukraine broke out in early 2014 following Russia’s annexation of Crimea.

Back then, a total of 49,926 women were employed within the Ukrainian armed forces, of which 16,557 were military personnel and 33,369 civilian. By March 1 this year, a year into the full-scale invasion, the total had climbed to 60,538, including 42,898 military personnel. That’s a 2.5-fold increase in military personnel since 2014. The number of female officers is now six times higher, at 7,416.

As of publication of this article, 106 female soldiers have died in combat since February 24, 2022.

More women will be need for the war effort, but they will continue to face different challenges to their male colleagues.

Ukrainian society and military servicemen have been slow to accept women fighters.

“As a woman, you have no right to make a mistake; you always have to prove yourself more than men. The attitude towards you, as a woman, is ‘It’s just a girl’,” said Sharlotta Khmelnytska.

Aged 26, Khmelnytska holds a BA in political science and a Master’s degree in public administration. She is also a senior lieutenant in the army, an example of the changing nature of military service in Ukraine and the transition of women into combat roles traditionally reserved for men.

Major reform of 2018

Women have served in the armed forces of Ukraine since independence in 1991, but usually as the wives and daughters who followed their husbands and fathers to new military posts.

Ukraine kept with the Soviet tradition of military rotation in which the family members of officers would rotate with them; wives and daughters would typically work in the military compound where their husbands or fathers were stationed, as administrative staff, secretaries or other civilian personnel.

Over time, the number of female military personnel steadily increased, particularly within the officer corps: between 2001 and 2006, the proportion of female officers rose from 0.7 per cent to 2.25 per cent. The hostility displayed by some toward female officers was largely due to the fact that military men did not want to hold lower-paid positions.

In 1994, women could apply for a limited range of positions. Social stigma forced women to occupy more typical ‘female’ posts such as medics, administrators or logistical support.

There was also a shortage of women trained to perform highly-skilled jobs. In the Soviet era, most of those studying IT, technology, or science were men, while women traditionally enrolled in more ‘feminine’ fields such as pedagogy, light industry, medicine, and cooking.

Consequently, the majority of women in the army typically occupied low paid, ‘feminine’ roles.

By June 2016, 62 combat positions were open to women, and on September 6, 2018, military laws were amended to bring radical change to the rights of women in military service.

Law 2523 introduced six amendments to the Statute of the Internal Service of the Armed Forces of Ukraine and the Law of Ukraine titled ‘On Military Duty and Military Service’.

Women became eligible for all military positions and ranks, with the same duties and opportunities as their male colleagues: the age limit on women serving in the military was raised from 40 to 60; servicewomen who reach the age limit are now transferred to the 1st category reserve, as opposed to the 2nd, meaning an increase in their pension pot and the chance to be mobilised first if needed.

As Ukrainian society pushed for greater gender equality, more women than ever began to join the army. In 2018, 53 per cent of Ukrainians supported the idea of gender equality between women and men in the army; in 2023, that number stands at 80 per cent.

The sharp rise in the number of women joining the armed forces reflects the army’s increased recognition of women, and the need felt by women to contribute to the war effort.

“Once I realised that a full-scale invasion by the Russian Federation into the territory of Ukraine was inevitable and that the enemy would try to occupy my hometown, Berdiansk, I could not sit by,” said Khmelnytska. “I had to join the Armed Forces of Ukraine – so I did.”

Currently, 24,797 servicewomen perform different tasks in the army, from combat engagements and special operations, to admin and logistical support.

More than 16,000 serve in the Ground Forces, at least 7,000 in the Air Force, over 3,000 in the Territorial Defence Forces, around 2,000 in the navy, and approximately 1,000 in the Airborne Assault Forces. The rest serve across other departments of the armed forces.

Women as prisoners of war

Women who join the military effort in Ukraine are in double jeopardy: they risk death or imprisonment by Russian forces, and sexual harassment within their own forces.

While there is no publicly available data on the total number of female prisoners of war, the Coordination Headquarters for the Treatment of Prisoners of War believes that several hundred women may have been taken prisoner.

Since February 24, 2022, there have been several prisoner exchanges involving women. One of the biggest occurred on October 17 that year, when 108 women were exchanged.

Maryana Mamonova, a female Ukrainian military doctor who was pregnant at time of her detention, was held captive by the Russian army for six months. According to Mamonova, Russian soldiers told her that she would give a birth to “a Nazi/Banderite” and that the child would be better off raised by a Russian family.

Fortunately, the media coverage of her case led to her release in the ninth month of her pregnancy.

When asked to describe their imprisonment, female servicewomen report systematic violations of the Geneva Convention on the treatment of prisoners of war by Russia – including torture, psychological abuse, the refusal to provide medical care, and a lack of food and water.

Many say that in Russian prisons they are not only denied hygiene products but often denied any opportunity to wash themselves at all. Detained Ukrainian women report being tortured during interrogations, shaved, and forced to undress. Some were sexually abused by Russian soldiers.

Ukrainian military women are also sometimes at risk from their male colleagues. The results of a 2011 study by the Research Centre for Humanitarian Issues of the Armed Forces of Ukraine revealed that every tenth woman faced sexual harassment in the army. “A woman has a harder time in the army than a man,” said Khmelnytska.

“When we did military training we faced sexism. Dealing with it was draining on my nerves, my energy, and my emotions. At times it was terrible. For example, you could be punished or reprimanded because you were a woman and the brigade commander didn’t like it.”

Sexual harassment in the army remains a taboo topic in the Ukrainian army.

In 2021, Olga Derkach became one of the first to speak out publicly about sexual harassment in the military when she accused Colonel Oleksandr Krivoruchko of harassment that she said began in 2016.

According to Olena Shevchenko, head of the Ukrainian human rights NGO ‘Insight’, complaints of sexual harassment are often submitted to Insight by the friends and acquaintances of the victims, rather than the victims themselves. Insight has received more than a dozen in recent years.

“According to women who complained to us, the commander harasses the woman, demands sexual favours and her loyalty,” said Shevchenko.

The head of the NGO ‘Association of Women Lawyers of Ukraine’ also reported receiving similar complaints. “Complaints are not coming from the frontline,” said Khrystyna Kit. “Women combatants are less likely to be sexually harassed than admin staff who work away from the battlefield.”

But even when women are willing to testify about harassment, it is often difficult to bring such cases to court. “Women have no witnesses to the harassment and, apart from her own testimony, there is no one who could confirm her claims,” said Kit. “Holding the perpetrator criminally accountable is a difficult and traumatic endeavour for a female victim.”

Social stigma

Ukrainian women serving in the army still fight to be recognised by society as equal to male soldiers.

The traditional view of the army as an exclusively masculine environment prevails, and women – so the argument goes – have no place in this environment.

Debate has raged on social media in response to comments on women who have decided to join the army, especially those who have children. As more and more women volunteer for the frontline, the more heated the debates become.

Some express full support for women and mothers; others argue they should think first about their children, who could become orphans at any moment. Such debates do not happen when it comes to men.

Despite their increasing involvement in the armed forces, society still believes that women have no place in the army. As a consequence, women’s experience of war remains neglected by the media. We have seen changes in public perception, but not as rapidly as one would expect in response to the rapid changes caused by war.

From the start of full-scale hostilities to the end of 2022, 350 military servicewomen have been awarded for bravery. The highest award, Hero of Ukraine, was bestowed posthumously on two women. Recently, Forbes-Ukraine magazine added ten women from the ranks of the Armed Forces of Ukraine to its list of the 50 most influential women in Ukraine.

In preparation for future waves of military mobilisation, women of certain professions are now legally obliged to register for the military. While full scale mobilisation is not expected before 2026, women can serve under contract. The list of professions from which women can be called up for military service has also expanded. According to the new law, women with any type of science or medical background must register.

Once registered, women will be subject to general mobilisation to the same degree as men.

At present, only women with medical backgrounds are legally obliged to be drafted into the war effort and this is due to the constant shortage of military medics. With the potential for a prolonged conflict, the change will be necessary to maintain strength and numbers on the battlefield, meaning that women could fall subject to general mobilisation.

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loneberry · 9 months

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Aw baba. Not once has my father returned to Taiwan since he immigrated. I’ve been saying for over a decade that we should go. (Maybe during the next year I will go on a grand tour of the fatherland//motherland.) It feels particularly urgent now, since it seems very likely that China will invade Taiwan within the next 5 years. I can’t tell you how much I dread that day.

My Alien Daughters book opens with a kind of love letter to China. That China has already been lost to me. It breaks my heart.

#diasporic feels

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harrison-abbott · 3 months

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Ten War Heroes

PRIVATE MURRAY got back to his home town when he was 20 years old. He met up with his family at the train stations and there were many teary faces and this hard macho handshake from his father and they took him home and they had prepared lots of food for him. Murray was in his military regalia at the station and they took photos of him with the green felt coat and were all super proud. On the first night back at home in his little bedroom where he’d been a boy he had a nightmare that he was back in the fields whilst they were being shelled. And in the morning he noticed there was a little blood on his pillow. Just a little amount. Not much. He turned the pillow over so his mother wouldn’t notice.

PRIVATE FLOYD lived in one of the major cities and he found it hard to reengage with the noise of urbanity; for the place he stayed in was right next to an overhead traintrack and whenever the trains made their bellows he would flinch like crazy, when that had never happened before. And Floyd used to read a lot before the war but these days he just couldn’t concentrate on the text in front of him. The words would spill away and his concentration would bend off elsewhere and he would lose the plot and not be able to get the story. He was embarrassed about his flinching. That other people noticed too. And he didn’t tell anybody about the reading thing …

CORPORAL CHAMBERS was from the other side of the continent. His dog had died whilst he was serving abroad and he went to the dog’s grave and he thought ‘Why should I be sad about a dog who died of natural causes when I killed several men whilst I was fighting.” And they even got a new dog as a replacement, the same breed; but this felt tacky and mean on the new canine who couldn’t replace the character of the old one.

SERGEANT PHILLIPS was injured during live conflict during a battle in the hills. His left ear was permanently damaged, almost to the point of deafness. And this lack of hearing afflicted him for the rest of the life. When he got back home many civilians found him annoying, even though he was a war hero and all that. Because he could hardly hear what they were saying a lot of the time and he had to ask you to repeat yourself. His wife found it so irritating that it strained their relationship and they got a divorce and he found another wife who he had another kid with. And when he got into his sixties and seventies his other ear began to lose audio as well and so he retired to simply zoning out when other people were speaking. He was fine with watching the television at super volume, with the subtitles on.

PRIVATE WEBB was diagnosed with schizophrenia shortly after his return because he kept speaking to himself in long monologues out loud and he kept hearing things that weren’t there. His family sent him to the doctor, and the doctor to a psychiatrist, and they had him Sectioned and he wound up in a ward for most of the rest of his life, which was short for a man because he perished at 35. [The reason for death was that the medication had caused long term damage to his kidneys. But the mental institution hid these facts away and the truth was never illuminated.]

MAJOR HAMM tried to get into politics, whence back in the motherland. He ran for mayor of his town. And was embarrassed by a landslide victory-for-the-other-guy after campaigning for seven months around the populace that he thought loved him enough to vote for him. The defeat hurt him internally and he cancelled out the loss with his victories on the battlefields. Then he went on holidays with his wife and drank lots of wine and continued to grow fat and they took loads of photos and whenever his lady asked him if he was unhappy he would say no.

PRIVATE CURTIS had killed eleven people during his bout with the military and he was proud of this statistic and he told lots of his friends about it and he got a job in a factory back home and nothing particularly bad ever happened to him.

COLONEL JAMES had a holiday home that was owned by his parents before him, somewhere on the airy space of a great ocean. He was a widely decorated man. And on this island inside the holiday home he tried to remember his accolades with affection. What he regretted was that he had never quite been a bigger figure. And he read lots of history books in his spare time, or, well, all the time he had now considering that he had nothing but free days. My name won’t be in many history books he often thought to himself, as he read. And historians won’t be writing about me. I won’t be remembered in 200 hundred years, as many of these men are. But there weren’t many men who got to the rank of Colonel in the most murderous military in the world ... and so he used this notion to beat down the other one, whenever he got blue.

PRIVATE MAY committed suicide via gunshot wound five months after he got home. From repeated memories of what he had seen on the battlefields. His family were embarrassed that he had killed himself. So they told the neighbours that he had died from injuries that had lived on from his fighting abroad. The neighbours accepted the verdict and many of them came to the funeral; but many of them knew the family were lying because people had heard the gunshot, and then the police come to the house on a Wednesday morning.

LIEUTENANT BRUCE suffered a deep shame over what he had done during the war and even with simple things like going to the supermarket were hard because he would look at these other people and know that they were unlikely to be killers as well, and there was nothing to lift up his shamefulness and he figured that he deserved all the self hatred that now plagued him. He had gone into the war wanting to be a hero. This was what being a hero made him think like nowadays.

#writeblr #creative writing #prose #writers on tumblr #stories #short fiction #tumblr writers #fiction #short story #spilled ink #spilled words #fables #war stories

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rockislandadultreads · 1 year

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Book Recommendations: More Nonfiction Book Club Picks

Midnight in Chernobyl by Adam Higginbotham

April 25, 1986, in Chernobyl, was a turning point in world history. The disaster not only changed the world’s perception of nuclear power and the science that spawned it, but also our understanding of the planet’s delicate ecology. With the images of the abandoned homes and playgrounds beyond the barbed wire of the 30-kilometer Exclusion Zone, the rusting graveyards of contaminated trucks and helicopters, the farmland lashed with black rain, the event fixed for all time the notion of radiation as an invisible killer.

Chernobyl was also a key event in the destruction of the Soviet Union, and, with it, the United States’ victory in the Cold War. For Moscow, it was a political and financial catastrophe as much as an environmental and scientific one. With a total cost of 18 billion rubles - at the time equivalent to $18 billion - Chernobyl bankrupted an already teetering economy and revealed to its population a state built upon a pillar of lies.

The full story of the events that started that night in the control room of Reactor No.4 of the V.I. Lenin Nuclear Power Plant has never been told - until now. Through two decades of reporting, new archival information, and firsthand interviews with witnesses, journalist Adam Higginbotham tells the full dramatic story, including Alexander Akimov and Anatoli Dyatlov, who represented the best and worst of Soviet life; denizens of a vanished world of secret policemen, internal passports, food lines, and heroic self-sacrifice for the Motherland. Midnight in Chernobyl, award-worthy nonfiction that reads like sci-fi, shows not only the final epic struggle of a dying empire but also the story of individual heroism and desperate, ingenious technical improvisation joining forces against a new kind of enemy.

Last Call by Elon Green

The Townhouse Bar, midtown, July 1992: The piano player seems to know every song ever written, the crowd belts out the lyrics to their favorites, and a man standing nearby is drinking a Scotch and water. The man strikes the piano player as forgettable.

He looks bland and inconspicuous. Not at all what you think a serial killer looks like. But that’s what he is, and tonight, he has his sights set on a gray haired man. He will not be his first victim. Nor will he be his last.

The Last Call Killer preyed upon gay men in New York in the ‘80s and ‘90s and had all the hallmarks of the most notorious serial killers. Yet because of the sexuality of his victims, the skyhigh murder rates, and the AIDS epidemic, his murders have been almost entirely forgotten.

This gripping true-crime narrative tells the story of the Last Call Killer and the decades-long chase to find him. And at the same time, it paints a portrait of his victims and a vibrant community navigating threat and resilience.

Yellow Bird by Sierra Crane Murdoch

When Lissa Yellow Bird was released from prison in 2009, she found her home, the Fort Berthold Indian Reservation in North Dakota, transformed by the Bakken oil boom. In her absence, the landscape had been altered beyond recognition, her tribal government swayed by corporate interests, and her community burdened by a surge in violence and addiction. Three years later, when Lissa learned that a young white oil worker, Kristopher "KC" Clarke, had disappeared from his reservation worksite, she became particularly concerned. No one knew where Clarke had gone, and few people were actively looking for him.

Yellow Bird traces Lissa's steps as she obsessively hunts for clues to Clarke's disappearance. She navigates two worlds - that of her own tribe, changed by its newfound wealth, and that of the non-Native oilmen, down on their luck, who have come to find work on the heels of the economic recession. Her pursuit of Clarke is also a pursuit of redemption, as Lissa atones for her own crimes and reckons with generations of trauma.

Lost & Found by Kathryn Schulz

Eighteen months before Kathryn Schulz's father died, she met the woman she would marry. In Lost & Found, she weaves the story of those relationships into a brilliant exploration of the role that loss and discovery play in all of our lives. The resulting book is part memoir, part guidebook to living in a world that is simultaneously full of wonder and joy and wretchedness and suffering - a world that always demands both our gratitude and our grief. A staff writer at The New Yorker and winner of the Pulitzer Prize, Schulz writes with curiosity, tenderness, erudition, and wit about our finite yet infinitely complicated lives. Lost & Found is an enduring account of love in all its many forms from one of the great writers of our time.

#book club books #book club #book club pick #nonfiction #nonfiction reads #nonfiction books #Nonfiction Reading #library books #book recommendations #book recs #reading recommendations #reading recs #TBR pile #tbr #to read #booklr #book tumblr #book blog

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