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#sorry about the personal anecdote
artist-issues · 3 months
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so here's something I'm curious about: God's Not Dead. The films, not the statement itself.
I first saw the first film when I was younger and I hadn't yet embarked on my journey on examining just what i was taught and what I truly believed, but I remember finding the film a little uncomfortable.
I saw the second film and Ive never watched the third, and I think what I really don't like the first film is how it bashes other people's walks of life (Muslim father, three brands of athiests, and how it continues the myth that Christians in The United States are being Persecuted for their Faith Right Now.
Oh yeah and how the plots are really really dumb too, since the first film centers around a philosophy class with a professor that is skipping a very important part of most College degrees and the second takes place in a Bible Belt State with a high school teacher answering a students question comparing Marting Luther King Jr to Jesus's Sermon on the Mount and being taken to court over it.
I was twelve or so when I saw that movie and I honestly was not convinced by the film That God's Not Dead (in terms of the actual arguments in the class scenes.
The specific Denomination that I grew up with (Adventist) focuses a LOT™ on the end times so I do know about the future persecution thing well but like, I don't think we're there yet.
Anyway if you don't know those movies, feel free to ignore this ask but I'm genuinely curious about your thoughts on them, wether positive or negative or neutral
Hi! I saw the first God’s Not Dead in theaters. Never re-watched it. Did not see the sequels.
The good thing about God’s Not Dead is that people worked hard to make something that might shine a counter-cultural light on the truth that the God of the Bible exists. Stories that try to point to truth are on the right track, baseline.
The bad thing about God’s Not Dead is that it took things that are real, and genuine, and true…and it made them feel fake. By telling the story with strange conclusions and weird-triumph moments.
The thesis of the movie, that God is not dead, is something that only non-Christians would need to be convinced of. But the movie is clearly made for Christians. So. Yeah, it’s uncomfortable.
But you shouldn’t find every experience that the movie tries to portray uncomfortable because they don’t happen. You should find it uncomfortable because they don’t happen in that cheesy, Hallmark-grade way.
When a student stands up to their professor and says, “no, I’m not going to go along with this, and this is super weird that you’re trying to draw this line about the specific Christian God,” guess what? The whole classroom doesn’t usually get up and agree with you. They normally barely react. So even though some professors do put their foot down and try to mock or “kill” God in the classroom, and some students do push back, no. It doesn’t normally happen in that victorious way.
Just like how some young Muslim converts to Christianity genuinely are treated poorly by their families, or their community, not just in America, but absolutely, certainly around the world. Absolutely, certainly. I literally can think of not one, but two examples I’ve recently heard of, directly, from people I know.
Like I said, the events and life-experiences that the first God’s Not Dead movie are based on do technically happen all the time in America, and the West, and the world in general. They just don’t normally come with crowd-agreement, impactful music, wise one-liners, and celebrity appearances. The worst thing that the God’s Not Dead movie does is show you hints of things that are real, and really happen in real life, but cheeseball way it shows you those things, and the caricatures it turns people into, makes the real thing look fake.
As far as “the myth that Christians are Persecuted Right Now in America” goes…you just have to decide what you mean by “persecuted.”
If you mean, are we getting our heads run over by cement mixers, or dragged out of our homes and imprisoned for studying or even owning a Bible, or kidnapped by hired hitmen once our families find out we’re Christians, like they are in Yemen or Africa or basically anywhere outside the West…no. No, we’re not facing persecution like that. We’re not persecuted.
But if you mean, in the context of this conversation, that “atheists and professors and people in the professional sector of our education systems don’t have a weirdly specific bone to pick with Christians,”then you’re wrong. They do. They have. For a long time.
My second semester in college, in my plain old World History class, the Professor legitimately opened his class by explaining to us students that if we wanted, he would allow us to replace our midterm and our final exams with book reports as long as we read two specific books he assigned us. One was a book about how Jesus of Nazareth was not the Messiah and the Bible was false. The other book was a fictional short novel with heavy themes criticizing specifically Christian religion. Those were the two books he picked for his students to skip taking the midterm and the final, if only they would read those two books. And those were the ones he chose.
Not only that, but literally in the first class, I remember being stunned when he flippantly opened his summary of the 18th century by saying, “If anyone ever tells you you should check out the God of the Bible, and follow him, laugh in their face. Don’t do it. He is the kind of God who likes to make His people promises and then strand them in the desert for forty years!” First class. Out the gate. Like it was a joke.
It’s not a joke. Dude just openly mocked two out of the three major world religions that people identify with across the globe. Explain to me how telling someone never to convert to a specific religion and to mock it instead is anything other than “discrimination?”
Can you imagine a Professor getting up in front of a class and saying, “if anyone ever tells you that you should check out Allah ] and follow him, convert to Islam, laugh in their face! And here’s one short novel and one historically inaccurate essay criticizing Allah and making fun of Islam; if you’ll read these, tell you what, I’ll let you skip the two most stressful exams of the semester!”
No, of course you can’t imagine that. A Professor who did that about any other religion, creed, or god would be fired or taken to court or penalized or dragged on social media, at least. But the only student in the whole room who batted an eye when he said that about the Christian God was me. The only one who said anything was me. And it wasn’t a big stand up, dramatic declaration. Momentous music didn’t play in the background. My friends and classmates didn’t’] gasp or support me or stand up and agree with me.
It was just me raising my hand and saying in a shaky voice with a red face, after the sixth time he’d randomly deviated from talking about the Roman plumbing system to describe how the Apostle Paul and the other Apostles supposedly disagreed about who Jesus was (big lie, not true at all, but often used to “discredit” the Bible) to say, “sir, that’s not true. It doesn’t make sense. There’s a verse in the Bible where the Apostle Peter literally tells the church that the Apostle Paul’s words are directly from God.” And then he was like, “okay, I’m going to move on.”
I mean I just felt kind of stupid because the whole class was confused about the interaction; nobody was treating it like it was as important as me or the professor was, so it felt awkward to “make a stand.” But rest assured, all over the freakin’ country, people are excited to use up way too much of their brain power and emotional energy mocking, disparaging, and trying to discredit the God of the Bible and Christianity. They don’t believe in Him, but they’re so he’ll-bent on making sure nobody else does either?? Like, I don’t believe in Big Foot, but I’m not walking around trying to barter my students into reading anti-Big Foot books by giving them a pass on their midterms. But that’s how lots and lots of “athiests” treat the specific Christian God.
That’s not new. It’s not dramatic. It’s not persecution. It’s alllll part of the same old song and dance.
But it is real. The worst thing about God’s Not Dead is it made it feel fake and caricature, when it happens all the time and matters 🤷‍♀️ Anyway. Hope that answered your question.
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anotherpapercut · 8 months
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hi more drug question
I have been told many many times that using ecstasy will basically fry your seratonin receptors so that you will never be able to feel happy again unless you are using the drug. I am assuming now that this is false but I am curious now as to how false. Is it something that CAN happen if you take too much at once or too often, or is this just random Drug Scary misinformation
Also also since wellbutrin is not an SSRI does LSD work when you are on it or does it also cancel it out
lol that's kind of an extreme version of what I usually hear! you're right that basically the answer here is no. this comes from a couple different things. first is MDMA induced serotonin toxicity, and 2nd is something called "serotonin syndrome" which is a real thing that can happen, but it's really really hard to get like this. prepare for a very long answer lmfaooo
MDMA induced serotonin toxicity occurs when you take too high doses too frequently. MDMA IS slightly neurotoxic, but so are many prescription drugs so don't let that word freak you out too much! basically MDMA works by dumping large amounts of serotonin into your brain, hence why it's the happy/love drug lol. if you take too much too often, your brain will straight up run out of serotonin. obviously that's bad! it's not as simple as "never feeling happy again" but you will essentially have depression for a bit because of lack of serotonin (on its own, low serotonin levels following modest MDMA use is not damaging and resolves within a few days) but the real problem is that if you are on MDMA with depleted serotonin, your brain will continue releasing dopamine which will attach to the serotonin receptors and damage them. this is what can cause long term depression symptoms, the damaged serotonin receptors. ultimately your brain will heal this on its own unless for some reason I guess you keep taking it a lot (which would have no effect. when you take too much MDMA your brain just runs out of serotonin to dump so like. it just won't work lol)?? it can also be treated with the supplement NAC, which I would recommend taking any time you use MDMA because of this!
to sum up MDMA toxicity: it can happen but only if you're misusing it! it's generally recommended that you dont do much more than 1 dose every 3 months or so to make sure your brain has time to reset. research interactions with anything else you're using (prescription or not), take some NAC in the weeks following a dose, drink a lot of water, keep your body temperature regular because that can worsen it, and take some antioxidants like alpha lipoic acid and grape seed oil during/immediately after taking MDMA - it's when you come down that your brain is delicate and could use the protection. also this may sound counterintuitive but weed also has antioxidant properties, so smoking it as you come down helps a lot. also if you DO have MDMA toxicity taking more MDMA will not help u feel happy unfortunately it will just make it worse lol, your brain only has so much serotonin to give
now serotonin syndrome can happen with the misuse of any drug that works on serotonin including MAOIs, SSRIs, and SNRIs, usually by taking a VERY large dose (but some people are just extremely sensitive). it usually takes care of itself eventually, but the amount of time it takes and stuff is kinda hard to pin down bc it's REALLY misunderstood and tends to be overly self diagnosed. again this is like super super hard to do. you would have to take a MASSIVE dose or mix it with other serotonin affecting drugs (ESPECIALLY MAOIs. DO NOT MIX MDMA WITH MAOI ANTI DEPRESSANTS). like 5 times the normal dose at least probably (partner is currently trying to find some literature on it so he'll add that in the replies if he finds anything interesting). it will cause things like heightened anxiety and body temperature and can cause kidney problems or seizures if it's like really bad and untreated. but you'd feel REALLY bad before it got to that point, so in general like, if you take any type of drug and feel extremely bad after go to the doctor lol. mostly this will also just heal itself; your brain is pretty resilient! again usually if this does happen it's very minor. cases bad enough to require hospitalization are exceedingly rare
to give you an example of what these can look like, I have a friend who was given about 3-4 times a regular dose by a fucking piece of shit asshole she knows and, this part is crucial, it was mixed with a very large amount of alcohol AND acid (which can slightly increase the neurotoxicity. normally not a huge issue but becomes one in circumstances like this), AND coke; like she was blackout drunk and while not on a lot of acid or coke, this is just too many things to have in your body and brain at one time. the mixture of such a large amount different drugs caused her what I'm guessing was a mild case of both of these things at once. she experienced slightly worsened depression for about 6 months after, and actually had a mild stutter for almost a year. I made sure she took some NAC and other things that aid brain healing, and she didn't try molly again for a long time to be super sure she didn't overload her brain before it was ready. this is a pretty extreme case, and even with that she has fully recovered thankfully. do NOT EVER do drugs with someone you don't trust with your life. DO NOT EVER do drugs in doses you have not confirmed for yourself to be safe and DO NOT EVER mix drugs without finding out if it's safe!!! just as a small aside though: usually taking molly and acid at the same time is perfectly safe. in fact it's called a candy flip and I HIGHLY recommend it because it's fucking awesome. again, just make sure you are taking safe doses in a safe environment
OKAY now finally your specific question about Wellbutrin: I actually take Wellbutrin so I can answer this one from personal experience! Wellbutrin should not alter the effects of LSD in any way HOWEVER! both of these drugs lower your seizure threshold! I'm on the max dose of Wellbutrin (which is the max dose BECAUSE of seizure risk) so when I plan to drop acid I usually either skip my dose entirely that day or only take half depending on how much acid I'm planning to take. because of the way Wellbutrin works, this shouldn't cause you any problems as far as that goes. for me, not taking my Wellbutrin for a day mainly has the effect of making me more fatigued, and acid counteracts that really well by making me feel very awake/aware. if you don't want to skip or halve your dose though you can also take things that will RAISE your seizure threshold. so like I sometimes will smoke hemp because CBD actually will help with that. the risk here isn't huge either way especially if you have no history of seizures, but again if it's something you're concerned about you should be just fine skipping or lowering your dose for the day. acid usually lasts about 12 hours too so i personally don't even care about skipping the Wellbutrin that much because it basically does the same thing for me. I did take my full Wellbutrin dose the last couple times I've done acid though because I was taking a very small amount of acid (about half a tab)
in summation lol sort of TLDR I generally would recommend MDMA for recreational use because the risks of damage are low and it's safe if you are safe about it. and it's honestly just a really fun one! the only negative effect I've ever felt is some emotional and physical fatigue the following day, and this is largely because of how emotional and energetic you are on it. I just make sure to have the next day off to lay around and listen to music :)
taking it with a partner or loved one will give you an especially beautiful experience, as MDMA has been proven to facilitate extremely open emotional conversations. in fact, when MDMA was first synthesized it's primary use was in psychotherapy! research was shut down during the war on drugs, but in recent studies it's demonstrated amazing abilities to treat and even straight up CURE disorders like PTSD. for a personal anecdote, my partner actually completely fucking cured his alcoholism on a combo of MDMA and whippets (nitrous oxide) lmfao. like dude straight up went from getting black out drunk multiple nights a week to drinking nothing for the past year and a half without any other treatment program. LSD has been proven to have similar incredible results with treating and curing things like depression, anxiety, PTSD and addiction and is also a very fun and very safe one.
sorry to reiterate for the billionth time lol but it's important: these drugs are safe and fun if you make sure they're safe and fun! do your research and never use in an unfamiliar environment with people you wouldn't trust in an emergency! also I know this sounds like a lot, but remember I'm giving you like the absolute safest possible practices and emphasizing sort of over cautiousness because I think it's always better to be too safe. I've taken molly without nac and I've taken kinda big doses a little closer together than I should have without any problems. there's a bit of flexibility to these guidelines, but it's always better to think of them as being rigid so you don't end up too far in the other direction. like I've said it's really really hard to do actual damage that would last more than like a day or 2 max. most of the time you'll just be sleepy the next day from all the dancing so it's nice to do it on a day 1 of a weekend. also it only lasts like a couple of hours lol so it's not your whole day or anything!
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themidnightcircusshow · 2 months
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Every new thing I learn about James Somerton's process just drives home how he almost (but really doesn't) knows what he's doing. Yes, of course you use the sources you read as a jumping off point. Of course you copy and paste the important sections into your outline document so you can reread them. That's why you put them in quotation marks.
#James Somerton#honesty time: I totally believe he did this by accident#his entire problem is that he writes like a fandom account with bad takes#his anecdotal evidence that Todd in the Shadows spent a two hour video trying to find sources for?#they're all fandom drama taken out of their cultural context#(yes fandom counts as a subculture and therefore has specific context)#and all of it gets attributed to straight white women coz everyone knows shippers are all straight and cis women /s#he simultaneously treats his videos like bad fandom meta and Documentaries of Great Importance and those just do not mesh#it's part of why his videos were so unbearable if you actually knew what he was talking about#he learned how to make a youtube video essay. He did not learn how to write or study any of his chosen subject matter#I think that's also why he was not expecting to be called out the way he has because I suspect he probably thought everyone wrote this way#a lot of old video essayists especially the Chez Apocalypse bunch were very good at not broadcasting just how much went into their videos#so their style that has now become the norm feels incredibly off the cuff but is heavily researched#but also they are using that research to support their own hypotheses and ideas as you are supposed to#so I wonder if when he got called out he just brushed it off because surely he just writes the same way everyone writes#(and hey fandom posts are rarely cited because they assume everyone knows what they are talking about)#it almost makes me feel sorry for him but all I can think about is how catstrophically bad he is at this job#oh and for everyone wondering: I've found the best way to research is to put quotes in quotation marks#paraphrasing in either different punctuating or a different colour#and your own personal thoughts based on the source in something different again#all with the correct citations for your preferred style#this makes sure you have everything cited so when you put it all together you can do it easily without having to go back through it all#and prevents this from happening#(tbh I'm kinda sad I'm not still teaching. This would have been a perfect meme for how to do your damn citations week)
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endworldbroadcast · 18 days
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With the amnesia and all it is so distressing having a past of competence because it's pointless that at some point I was 'smart' enough to finish my graduate studies and even work a prestigious career at a relatively influential position because I can't do that anymore and even it was 'me' I barely remember and do not connect to myself at all from Before that it feels dishonest and aggrandising to identify myself as that person.
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prosebushpatch · 1 year
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Hello @erinmorgenstern​! I know this is random, but I wanted to share with you a silly anecdote in which I def thought The Starless Sea had literally come to life (to the point I nearly sat in my closet like Zachary!) and it’s because of the binding in my copy!
Alright, it begins when I’m reading about a pirate and a girl but when I turn the page, there’s something wrong. The paper feels disconnected and I find the first page seems to be peeling back from the cover. This is odd because it is newly purchased from the store and so I pause reading to turn the book around to investigate the binding, and it sure is disconnected, indeed!
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It seems as if there’s a little booklet in the beginning while the rest of the binding is glued securely in place! Just from the way that the glued spine doesn’t appear to have a booklet-sized gap and how the booklet itself seems very intentionally separate with stitches tethering the pages together. My mouth drops as I investigate the binding as gently as possible!
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But I determine that this must be intentional! But just to be sure, I skip to where the booklet ends, on page 20, and, certainly, I find the answer that I am looking for.
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“It is clearly quite old and Zachary does not know much about the history of publishing or bookbinding, if such information is not included in books of a certain age.”
And I think, OH MARVELOUS! The meta narrative extends to the physical book in my hand! It makes me all the more thrilled to continue, so I quickly read more only to take breaks to gush about the details to my sib and a friend.
Even as I read beyond the booklet, I do wonder what the choice in separating the pages there could mean. I ultimately decide that this is where the narrative catches up to its “present” as Zachary reads. This is my best guess through the rest of the story, but as I read through the other Books within the novel, I wonder about the binding...
I still wonder about the binding even after I finish the incredible story that lingers on my tongue like honeyed candy, and it occurs to me that maybe... it was not meant to print this way. When I happen to return to the bookstore where I picked it up, I cannot help but return to the shelf to find...
NOT A SINGLE COPY HAS THE STRANGE, SEPARATED BOOKLET. I remove every copy from the shelf, my grin widening in disbelief as each binding is perfectly ordinary. I’m teetering towards hysterics as my heart skips a beat because did I not just read a story in which a strange book leads a young man through an incredible tale? What is my copy but a strange, happy coincidence? (Or do I dare say Fate?) And though I know it must only be some sort of mishap in my copy’s creation, I couldn’t be happier.
For a moment, it was like the story had caught up with me, and I’ll always cherish the journey it shared. So thank you! For a lovely story and I hope my fun little experience brings you a smile!
#rose and rambles#long post#OH GOSH ITS SO LONG IM SORRY#ALSO I KNOW THIS IS PROBABLY THE WEIRDEST SOCIAL MEDIA OUTLET TO REACH YOU#but it is the one i could be the most verbose about i think but uhhhh#anyway i do have to take this opportunity to gush in the tags because who am i if not a person who gushes in the tags?#no one. that's who. also i will try to avoid spoilers BECAUSE IF ANY ONE IS READING THIS WHO HAS NOT READ THE STARLESS SEA YET#YOU NEED TO GO READ IT BECAUSE ITS INCREDIBLE#OH IT'S SO INCREDIBLE#the fairy tales are woven so splendidly into the fabric of the narrative that i was utterly enchanted every step of the way#The romances had me swooning and Zachary's and Dorian's first meeting? I was breathless#BREATHLESS#oh and it would be remiss of me to neglect mentioning another anecdote#i love just about all the characters but the innkeeper is my favorite but i did not realize how much i had fallen in love with him#until i was choking up while telling my sibling about him#I legit got teary-eyed i love this warm man and his beautiful wife FRICK#HE LOVES HIS WIFE SO MUCH AND SHE LOVES HIM#😭😭😭💖💖💖#okay i shall stop there#there are so many things i loved so much#it truly is just a marvelous story filled with love and yearning and seeking and finding#AND IF YOU ARE READING THIS NOW ERIN MORGENSTERN THANK YOU FOR WRITING YOUR STORIES#I know this is not much but i hope at the very least these anecdotes return a fraction of the joy your work brings me#AND WITH THAT I WILL FOR REAL END IT THERE ;w;7 <333
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just had a conversation with my boss that went like this:
him: “and that was an interesting connection because my wife’s brother is on the board of directors of [large, well known organization]!”
me: “wow!”
him: “anyway what are you using your vacation time for?”
me: “redoing our kitchen! we opened the oven and the door fell off haha”
and then he recommended like the most expensive option for appliances. dude you know how much you pay me
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scribbleymark · 6 months
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Using "I'm willing to fuck this person" as a yardstick for queer acceptance is an incredibly facile generalization that doesn't actually lead to acceptance of marginalized queer people, only their fetishization, and means your acceptance only extends as far as your ability to get something out of another person. "I would fuck them" is not the big liberal gesture of acceptance that you think it is. It just means you care more about your next orgasm than where it's coming from.
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autismserenity · 3 months
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know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!
hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.
I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.
It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.
Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.
It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.
(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."
Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.
Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.
People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.
(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.
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I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.
She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.
And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.
He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.
He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.
I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.
But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.
It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.
(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)
(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.
We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.
People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.
Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.
3,000,000.
Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.
Five times as many.
That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:
Here's a non-paywalled link to it:
https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates
Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:
Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.
You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.
They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)
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wintrwinchestr · 6 months
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obedience (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+
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summary: you decide to act out after feeling neglected by joel for over a week. it doesn’t go quite according to plan, but his punishment does help you unlock a new kink or two.
warnings: 18+, smut, no outbreak au, daddy kink, d/s and ddlg relationship dynamics, brat tamer joel, degradation/humiliation (use of slut, whore, 1 use of bitch), orgasm denial/edging, boot riding, pet names (baby, babygirl, darlin’, sugar, sweetheart, honey, puppy), entering petplay territory??, finger sucking, one face slap but she likes it (and so do i), taking/sending nudes at work, subspace, hair pulling, joel cums on reader’s face, cum eating, two idiots who finally communicate and apologize to each other, gets soft at the end bc i’m a woman of many interests, reader can be carried by joel but no other physical descriptions, winter’s limited knowledge of what contractors do, pic of girl in the moodboard is for bra imagery only, reader looks just like you!! :)
word count: 4.1k
a/n: this is extremely self indulgent so please don’t look at me!!! lil shoutout to @pascalisbaby for inspiring me to write something just so i can use “puppy” bc their love’s gonna get you killed series has fucked me up extremely bad.
divider by @saradika
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It’s coming up on nearly a week and a half of Joel working long days and late nights at the latest suburban McMansion he’s been contracted out to. Each and every time he creeps into his side of the bed after you’ve already gone to sleep, never failing to wake you up in the process, he always has a different excuse. “My concrete guy was out sick today”, “the vendor gave us the wrong size rebar”, “the landscapers were in our way all damn day”, and other similar eye roll-inducing anecdotes that were followed up with sleepy apologies.
Tonight, you’re almost certain, will be just the same.
Slogging through yet another slow and uneventful day at your corporate nine-to-five, you’re practically counting down the seconds until you’ll be able to escape your drab little cubicle for the day. You aren’t exactly looking forward to going home, though, either. You know that all you have waiting for you will be another lonely night of heating up a frozen dinner, watching reality TV reruns until the ten o’clock news comes on, and then tucking yourself into a cold bed.
While you’re waiting around for a coworker to message you back about something painfully unimportant, you decide to get up to kill some time in the bathroom on your phone and stretch your legs a bit. You stand up from your rolling chair, grabbing your phone in the process, and head down the hall to the one single-person bathroom in the building that you know of.
You step inside and click the lock shut behind you, looking forward to having a rare few minutes to yourself without the threat of your manager lurking over your shoulder. You inspect your makeup in the mirror and address some flyaway hairs before leaning back against the sink and swiping your home screen into view. Your heart soars at the discovery of a text notification from Joel, but settles just as quickly when you read the words across your screen.
A couple of my dumbass guys fucked up some measurements again. Gonna be another late one. Sorry baby. 
You let out an exasperated sigh and turn around to face your reflection again, bracing yourself on the edge of the sink and trying not to cry. How much fucking longer are you going to have to put up with this? You'd been getting through it alright so far, but his sterile text had ignited a raging fire deep in your stomach that made a scorching heat climb its way up the back of your neck.
You’re determined to get his attention tonight, one way or another. Even if it means pushing some of his buttons, riling him up, making him feel a few licks of that very same inferno. You’re feeling fucking bratty.
You undo the top few buttons of your blouse and shimmy it off your shoulders, exposing the blushing lace of the bra you had chosen when you were getting dressed this morning. Using one arm to hold your phone up to the mirror with the camera app open, you use the other one to prop yourself up against the sink and assist in pushing your tits together. As a final touch, you pull down one of the delicate cups along with its accompanying strap, exposing an already peaked nipple. Meeting your own eyes in the reflection and forming your glossy lips into a faux pout, you snap the picture and attach it to your text conversation with Joel. You type out a coy little message to go along with it and send it off.
that’s okay daddy. just sad i wore a rly cute bra today for nothing :(
While you anxiously wait for his response, you take a few more lewd photos to tease him with later, and make your way back to your desk after you button yourself up again and smooth out your skirt.
Sitting back down at your cubicle, you check your notifications to find a response from Joel, sent just a few seconds ago.
What’d I tell you about sendin me shit like that when I’m at work? Put your fuckin tits away babygirl. Not in the mood today.
Despite his harsh words, you know your plan is already working in your favor. You can’t help but giggle to yourself as you attach another one of the photos you had taken in the bathroom, this one of your matching lace panties pulled aside to expose your bare pussy to the front camera. You type out another flirtatious message and tap the button to send it.
idk what u mean daddy :( just miss u is all. she misses u too :((
You promptly turn off your phone and place it screen-down next to your mousepad, resigning yourself to a mere ten minutes of work before you can’t resist temptation anymore and pick it back up again to check for a reply.
Last warning babygirl. I got enough shit to deal with today, don’t need your slutty pictures distractin me. I’ll see ya tonight.
whatever. u don’t pay attention to me anymore anyway :/
You begin to regret your message as soon as you send it, worrying you might have taken things too far. But it was true; you’re upset, in a bratty mood, and feeling neglected. And, maybe you did want to work him up enough for him to take it all out on you, to fuck the attitude out of you the way you know he likes to do every so often.
A few seconds after you power off your screen to do a few more minutes of work, it illuminates again.
Oh I don't? When I get home tonight you better be kneelin in front of the door waitin for me undressed like a good girl. Not like the fuckin brat you’re actin like. And we’ll see about payin you some attention. Now pull your fuckin panties up and get back to work.
Your heart jumps into your throat as you read his text, now feeling exhilarated that your plan is officially in motion. After you’ve read his words through a couple of times, squeezing your thighs together and stifling a whimper as you did so, your trembling fingers type out a simple reply:
yes daddy <3
The remainder of your work day seems to pass by in slow motion, every minute feeling more like five. You can hardly bring yourself to focus on any of your mundane tasks, your mind constantly drifting to what you might be in for tonight. Will he spank you and leave red handprints on your ass for days? Will he fuck your face while you sputter and gasp around him? Will he work you over with his tongue until all you know how to say is “I’m sorry, Daddy”? As you shake yourself from your trance and try to focus your eyes again, you wonder why you hadn’t thought to act up like this earlier in the week. You keep your eye on the little digital clock in the corner of your monitor for the last five consecutive minutes of your work day, and as soon as 4:59 flashes to 5:00, you practically sprint out to your car in your hurry to get home.
You’re cuddled up on the couch underneath your favorite fleece blanket, already stripped down to your peony-colored underwear set like Joel had requested. The past couple of hours have been spent cycling between all of your streaming services and social media apps, trying desperately to find something to occupy yourself with until he gets home. You’re half-tempted to get up and walk some laps around the house, but around 10:30, you finally see the scanning headlights of Joel’s pickup as it turns into the driveway.
You immediately spring up from your little nest on the couch and prance over to the front door, kneeling a few feet in front of it just like he ordered.
In your excited anticipation to see him, you tune your ears to pick up every little sound you hear as he makes his way to you: the slam of the truck’s driver’s side door, the dull thud of his work boots heading up the walkway, the prolonged jingling of his keys as he fumbles with them to unlock the door. You’re sure he’s fidgeting with them for a few seconds longer than usual, just to tease you and keep you waiting. A shiver runs up your spine and you can feel your heart pounding against the walls of your chest as he finally turns the lock.
He calmly steps inside and closes the door behind him, dropping his dusty work bag onto the floor and stripping himself of his canvas tool belt. He stalks over to where you’re knelt on the hardwood, wrapped in your dainty lace for him like a little doll. There’s something arousing about the contrast between your barely-there feminine attire and his dark, practical clothing.
“Well, whaddya know, she can be good after all… Waitin’ for me all nice and pretty just like I asked. All it takes is an order from your Daddy to get you actin’ right again, ain’t that right, babygirl? Obedient lil’ thing…” He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he speaks, keeping your eyes trained on his. You nod up at him, doe-eyed and dazed, already feeling yourself beginning to slip into that familiar saccharine headspace.
Every time you had previously tried your hand at bratting, it never lasted very long, and tonight was already proving to be no different. He was right, after all, it doesn’t take more than a command, a look, a gentle grasp of your chin, to remind you of your desire to be good for him.
“What, Daddy doesn’t get a proper greetin’ after a long day o’ work? You already that far gone f’ me, can’t use your words proper like a big girl?” 
“H-hi, Daddy… Missed you today,” you half-whisper, your voice sounding a little higher and further away than it did earlier in the day.
“Yeah, I know y’ did… I’ll bet your lil’ panties are ‘bout soaked through already, bet you left a wet spot on your fuckin’ desk chair just from daydreamin’ about what I was gonna do to you tonight, hm?”
Another silent nod accompanied by a pitiful little whimper. The blazing fire in your gut from this afternoon is quickly being replaced by something much more easily tamed, something more akin to a flickering candle flame than a wildfire. You struggle to keep your eyelids open as they begin to feel heavier with submission.
A stern look and a ticked jaw is enough for you to correct your wordless response.
“Y-yes, Daddy…”
“And what is it that you think I’m gonna do with you tonight, babygirl? Speak up, now…”
You rack your brain for a moment, suddenly unable to remember any of the depraved fantasies you had been conjuring up all day instead of replying to emails. You eventually land on a relatively straightforward answer.
“I th-think you’re gonna… gonna fuck the attitude outta me, t-teach me a lesson… right, Daddy?”
He lets out a dark chuckle, releasing your chin from his hold to give your cheek a couple of condescending pats instead.
“Aww, dumb lil’ thing… you thought Daddy was gonna touch you at all tonight, make that pathetic lil’ pussy cum after the stunts you were pullin’ today? Nah, I don’t think so… Open that slutty fuckin’ mouth.”
You’re reeling, taken aback by his harsh words, words that were certainly not in any of the countless scenarios you had been imagining at work. There’s a long beat of silence as you struggle to process his command.
You hear the smack across your face before you feel the heated sting of it, and it prompts a debauched mewl to spill from your parted lips.
“I said open your fuckin’ mouth…”
Your jaw falls slack in an instant, your pulsing cunt releasing an ashamed wave of wetness at the degrading slap. Joel shoves his thumb inside your waiting mouth, and you wrap your lips around it obediently as you swirl your tongue along its calloused landscape. It tastes salty, a little dirty, and you like it.
“Good girl, suck on Daddy’s thumb, tha’s it… dumb whore’ll suck on anything Daddy puts in her mouth, won’t she? Desperate lil’ thing… Bet you wish it was this fat cock instead, don’t you baby?”
You whine and nod around him, your hole squeezing around nothing as you look up at him with pleading eyes.
“Well… that’s just too fuckin’ bad, ain’t it? Tonight’s not about what you want, you can gimme that sad puppy look all you like, sugar, not gonna change anythin’...”
He pulls his thumb out of your mouth, and your slick lips try to chase after it until he wipes it clean on the side of your face. His hands make quick work of opening his stained work jeans and freeing his stiff cock from his briefs, taking it into one hand and beginning to pump it with languid strokes. He grabs a fistful of hair at the base of your skull with his free hand and taps the leaking head of his length against your cheek, adding to the dampness there from your own saliva.
“This what you want?” Tap tap tap. “You want Daddy’s cock? Hm? This what you been thinkin’ about all day, dirty girl?” He rocks his hips back and forth as he speaks, smearing his arousal along your skin.
You can’t help but squirm as a humiliated heat begins to pool in your tummy.
“Yes, Daddy, please let me have it, wan’ it so bad…” you beg.
He releases your hair and pulls his cock away from your face, making a show of massaging it and taunting you with what he won’t let you have.
“Nah, you ain’t gettin’ any of Daddy’s cock tonight, baby… In fact, I’m gonna stand right here and take care of m’self, and you’re gonna find somethin’ to rub that soakin’ cunt on while I watch…”
As the last of his words leave his lips, he steps one foot forward and nudges it between your thighs, looking at you expectantly. You lower your head to face his steel-toed work boot, covered in dust and dirt from his day at the construction site. Your mind still too deep in the clouds to understand what he’s asking of you, you lift your eyes back up to him for guidance. He juts his chin out in a silent “go on, then”, and you return your confused gaze back to his boot, the toe of which is positioned just in front of your aching heat. Your breath hitches and your eyes go wide as you finally realize: he wants to pleasure himself to the sight of you getting yourself off on his boot.
All at once, it falls into place how he wants the night to unfold. He wants to deny you. Deny you of his touch, his cock, even the privilege of making him feel good yourself… all because you acted out, disobeyed him, tested his limits.
“We understand each other, darlin’?”
“Y-yes, Daddy…” You meet his eyes as you speak, voice coming out a little unsteady. Any confidence you had while you were teasing him this afternoon is long gone, fully submitting to him now and completely at his mercy. He didn’t need to fuck you in order to put you in your place, he knew plenty of other much more degrading ways to rid you of your bratty attitude, to remind you of who you belong to.
You position your cunt over the filthy toe of his boot, the gusset of your lacy panties now completely saturated with your wetness. Your hands planted on either side of his leg, you try an experimental grind onto the leather-covered steel. A bolt of electricity shoots from your swollen clit to your fevered cheeks, burning with the eroticism of being made to humiliate yourself like this. He allows you to wrap your arms around his calf, using his sturdy form as leverage to rub yourself harder and faster against the solid material. 
“Look at you, humpin’ my boot like a fuckin’ dog… that’s just what y’ are, ain’t it? Daddy’s lil’ puppy…” he teases, spurring you on with his words and the indecent sounds of his wet fist working along his thick cock.
You let out an involuntary yelp at the new pet name, which he’s quick to catch with a huff through his nose.
“Oh, she likes that, don’t she? Y’ like that, sweetheart, bein’ Daddy’s good girl, his obedient lil’ puppy? Yeah, I know y’ do… I got you trained good, don’t I? Do just about anything I want, won’t you? Got you rubbin’ that slutty pussy on my fuckin’ boot, for Christ’s sake, barely even had to ask… fuckin’ pathetic.”
The degradation makes your stomach swirl with a cocktail of embarrassment and pleasure. Your cunt flutters as you continue your frantic movements, releasing broken whimpers that sound something like uh huh and yes, Daddy. You’re sure that your slick has to be dripping down his boot by now, soaking straight through the leather and pooling onto the hardwood. You wonder if he might punish you for that, too, for making a mess of him and your freshly mopped floors. Just the thought of it has your hips picking up the pace, desperate to reach your high.
Your eyes are shut tightly as you pursue your orgasm, but you can still hear the shallow pumps of Joel’s fist and his stuttering breaths that indicate he’s close to his own release.
“Yeah, grind that sloppy fuckin’ puppy cunt on Daddy’s boot, there ya go… lookin’ like a goddamn bitch in heat… desperate whore… c’mon, puppy, make a fuckin’ mess for me…”
“I’m gonna cum, Daddy, gonna–”
Just as you feel yourself about to crest the wave of your climax, he pulls his foot out from under you and yanks your head back by another fistful of hair.
“Open up, puppy,” he groans as he splashes his hot release all over your face, aiming most of it around your mouth as you cry out from the denial of your own pleasure.
“Look at you, filthy girl… So pretty for Daddy, all covered in me,” he coos as the last few milky drops land on your cheek. Before any of it can start to drip, he scoops it up with his thumb and feeds it to you a bit at a time, and you continue to suck his finger into your eager mouth once again.
When your face is fully cleaned of his spend, he pulls his thumb from between your lips for a final time with a pop, and you stick out your tongue to show him you’ve swallowed everything he’s given you. 
“Good girl,” he praises, petting the side of your hair in soothing strokes. “What do you say to Daddy, hm?”
“Th-thank you…” you choke out, still trying to steady your voice.
“And what else?” he asks.
You take a deep breath. “And… I’m sorry, Daddy,” you relent.
“For what, sweet girl?”
This was always your least favorite part, the part you struggled with the most: admitting that you were wrong. 
“For being a brat today, for not listening and disrespecting you…” Your posture deflates, wondering if you should continue your confession. You remember one of the ground rules that was laid out when you first entered this dynamic with him, the one about how important communication is, and decide to keep going. “I jus’ feel like you’ve hardly paid any attention to me the past few days…” You start to sniffle as you speak, the overwhelm of it all finally catching up with you.
“Oh…” he breathes sympathetically. “Here, can you stand up, babygirl? C’mon, come sit on Daddy’s lap for a minute.”
He offers you his hands, and you use them to push yourself up onto shaky legs, feeling like a newborn foal. You wrap your arms around his neck and he scoops you up, carrying you bridal-style back to your cozy spot on the couch. He situates you in his lap, wrapping you up in your blanket again, and you bury your face in the warm expanse of skin between his shoulder and neck. You inhale through your nose, smiling to yourself and sighing contentedly when your senses are flooded with his natural comforting smell.
“I know I’ve been workin’ some real late nights recently… I’m sorry about that, honey,” he apologizes, rubbing comforting circles around your upper back. 
“‘S okay, Daddy, ‘s not your fault,” you say into his skin.
“But I shoulda made more of an effort to give you some lovin’ anyway, I shouldn’t have had to wait for you to brat on me… Look at me, baby.” You lift your head and meet his sincere gaze, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours. “I’m sorry, darlin’.”
“I’m sorry too, Daddy.”
“I know y’ are, sweet girl, I know…”
You exchange warm smiles, and he curls his pointer finger under your chin to pull your face toward his, placing a delicate kiss to your lips. He settles both of his large hands on either side of your face before breaking the kiss to press your foreheads together. You close your eyes and try to match his breathing, enjoying this moment with him.
After a minute or so, you break the silence. “So… puppy, huh? That’s a new one,” you giggle.
He laughs and releases your face from his hold, meeting your eyes again. “Jus’ wanted to try somethin’ new, I guess…” He snakes a hand under the blanket, thumbing over the damp crotch of your panties. “And judgin’ by this lil’ mess down here, I take it you liked it. Hm, pretty girl?”
Still sensitive from your earlier denial, you let out a high pitched little whine and an involuntary buck of your hips into his hand.
“See? Even sound like a lil’ puppy… Daddy’s good girl. You want Daddy to train you, babygirl, you wanna be his pretty lil’ pet?”
“Uh huh, yes, Daddy, please…” Your face is buried in his chest as you rut into his hand, squeezing it between your thighs, back to the same place you were just before he pulled his boot out from underneath you.
“Daddy was so mean earlier, wasn’t he? Not lettin’ you cum, punishin’ you for actin’ up… But I think you’ve learned your lesson now, huh puppy? C’mon, sweet girl, let go, soak Daddy’s hand…”
And you do. With his permission, you cry out, muscles spasming and cunt twitching as you finally ride out the climax you’ve been chasing all night. You’re panting by the time you start to come down after what feels like several minutes, exhaustion hitting you hard all at once. When some of your awareness has come back to you, you realize that Joel is gently rocking you back and forth on his lap, petting the back of your head and gently shushing in your ear.
“Shh, shh, you’re alright, babygirl, I gotcha, Daddy’s gotcha… So good for me, baby, my precious girl…”
When your breathing evens out once more, you muster the strength to lift your head from its place against his heart, and he chuckles at the sleepy and sated look on your face as you blink slowly at him.
“My lil’ puppy’s all tuckered out, huh? Let’s get you up to bed, darlin’, Daddy’ll tuck you in.”
He stands up with a groan, cradling you in his muscled arms, and carries you into the bedroom. You’re already drifting off to sleep when he sits you on the bed, carefully stripping you of your ruined underwear and helping you into a clean, sensible pair of cotton undies. He retrieves one of his oversized “Miller Contracting” shirts from his drawer and slips it over your head, helping your weak arms through the sleeves. Brushing your hair away from your face, he places a scruffy kiss to your hairline and helps you lay down onto the cool sheets. He pulls the covers up all the way over your shoulders, the way he knows you like, and smiles to himself when you burrow yourself into the sheets.
He takes a quick shower to rid himself of the grime and grit he collected on his skin during the day, and slips into bed beside you. Another private smile and a small shake of his head when you instinctually turn to face him and snuggle into his warm body, wrapping your arms around the breadth of his upper arm and inhaling the masculine cologne of his body wash.
He reaches across his chest to gently scratch at the top of your head, prompting a dreamy little noise from you. “Just like I said,” he whispers to himself, “a lil’ puppy.”
He wouldn’t have you any other way.
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not really sure who to tag for this one, gonna use the same list from my last fic if that's okay!! anyone else please let me know if you'd like to be tagged on my future fics!!
tag list: @beefrobeefcal @gracieispunk @iamasaddie @rebel-held
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murdrdocs · 5 months
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i want to imagine taunting/teasing coryo if u ever get to the position of being the person who he lets cut n trim his hair…… sitting on his lap or on the bathroom counter w/ him standing between ur legs…. seems like a good balance of snark/endearment 🫠
the slight domesticity of it all.
sitting on your bathroom counter, holding the scissors you used only for coriolanus' hair. you consider asking him once more why he doesn’t go to someone who’s better skilled with the shears, but reminders of his previous explanations fluster you enough to not bring it up again.
“i trust you more than someone only looking for my money.”
and each time he said it, it's been impossible for you to hear the deception in his sweet words.
besides, the advantage of cutting coriolanus' hair is that you end up like this, sitting in your favorite position to be in. coriolanus snow standing politely between your spread legs, hands at his sides, his shoulders and chest bare with excess blond curls soon to lightly shroud over his pale skin.
the banter flows easy like this. coriolanus usually telling some ridiculous story about his grandmother (“grandma’am”) or a sweet anecdote about his cousin that’s spoken with entirely too much malice for the nature.
you always end up chastising him for his attitude, and he ends up rolling his eyes at you, only getting even more of an attitude.
when you make your next snip your eyes widen and you gasp lightly. coryos eyes instantly display fear, his face starts to blanch. he gently moves you to the side, leaning over to cover the rest of the distance as he stares in the mirror.
“what? what? did you cut it too short?” he tilts his head this way and that, and all the while you’re poorly holding in a laugh. coriolanus doesn’t notice until he worryingly looks back at you. when you see his face, you can’t help but let the fit of giggles overtake you.
sensing the falsehood of your previous reaction, coriolanus sighs, seemingly holding off his own bout of laughter as he turns his head and looks at the wall of the bathroom. he doesn’t look at you until you tell him you’re sorry, albeit still through laughter.
“just …” coriolanus turns to face you, mainly amusement still on his face with just a hint of frustration in his eyes. “finish my hair.”
you stare up at him with big doe eyes and a matching smile, clearly expecting something else from him.
he sighs once more. “please.”
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eve-dawntower · 3 months
Text
What we gathered so far:
POSSIBLE SPOILERS BELOW:
Xavier, Jeremiah and some others seem like they are aliens. I guess the emoji that Xavier often use makes sense now.
Xavier and the people from wherever he came from (Philos) needed MC for something. It might have something to do with the Aether Core implanted on her heart or maybe there's something more? It is mentioned that only "she" can save them.
It seems that Xavier and his people are divided about their goals. Xavier called the people on the other side as "traitors" yet the people on the other side think that Xavier is the "traitor". Whatever the two groups goal are, it has something to do with MC.
I'm honestly confused about the anecdote: "When Shooting Stars Falls". The anecdote is retelling a story about someone (which is possibly MC) who lives in Philos. According to the anecdote, 214 years have passed since the birth of the planet and 214 years since the Earth's demise. And then we have the entry on the note. It says, Philos is the core of a star and is no longer reacting to energy so it's probably dead already. So what's what? The chronological order is kinda confusing. What died first? Earth or Philos?
Lumiere is obviously Xavier. So yeah, he's the same person who saved MC a long time ago.
Jeremiah was about to say, "Long time no see" to MC but cut himself off and instead said, "Welcome to Philo." Was it because he met MC when "Lumiere" saved her? Or maybe he already met MC further back in Philos. Also, the way Jeremiah treats MC is like she's a VIP. And there's also another curious thing. This thing they call the "Non-intervention Principle".
Jeremiah mentioned that their presence on Earth has always been a mistake. Does it have something to do with the Deepspace Tunnel? Are they lost? Did they just accidentally fall on Earth or something?
Sorry but the possibility of Xavier betraying MC is high. He mentioned "Until that day comes, no one should even think about getting close to her. The same goes for me." So what's going to happen when that "day" comes? Is he going to rip the Aether Core out of her chest or what?!
Zayne is not yet suspicious as of now. But what does grandma mean when she said, that by helping MC, Zayne is also helping himself? What are you hiding, Doctor Zayne? Hmm?
And now to Rafayel. Well, Rafayel is a merman from Lemuria, he met MC when they were kids and it seems that he's somehow connected with some bad people.
Rafayel mentioned that the "fish" that they truly wanted haven't fallen yet and I feel like he's talking about Xavier/Lumiere.
As of now, Rafayel is the most suspicious among the three. Much more suspicious than Xavier.
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irndad · 1 month
Note
Flower prompt request for Spencer Reid please!!!
Arbutus combined with Freesia.
And if you wanna add in something suggestive or downright filthy, there will be no complaints! (Or just a heartfelt fluff fest)
Thank youuuuu! (Will totally understand if you aren’t interested though!)
-🌕
hi!! this is sfw but here u go!! i hope you enjoy!! requests r open <3 flower prompts
Something’s wrong with her.
Not wrong, of course. Quite the opposite, really. She looks beautiful, a swipe of a purplish red on her pretty lips, a cowl neck dress wrapped around her form like a well-made glove. She’s a vision, and he adores looking at her- he doesn’t get the chance as often as tonight. While they get the chance to talk on the plane (when no one else is sleeping) or at the bar after cases, but this- this is an entire night she’s spent by his side. 
He normally doesn’t like when the FBI does these galas, but they’re fundraising, and now his beautiful coworker who’s a little more than that is drinking rosé out of a thin stemmed wine glass. He adores the sight of her.
“You okay?” He hears himself say, and there’s a beat of silence before she looks up from her beverage, and smiles a false grin at him.
“Right as rain, Spencer.” She grins back at him, leaning back on the table they were standing by.
“You’re acting different,” he says, “You’ve been quiet, and you seem distant from the team. You didn’t have any of the cupcakes Penelope brought in, either.”
“I didn’t want too much sugar in the morning!”
“Now, that is a lie.” He finds himself smiling at her when he says it. Things move naturally with her, have a flow of conversation that takes no effort, only gentle enjoyment. 
She really does look so pretty. This is a factual thing Spencer has noticed- a fact of her that he would be blind not to see. It’s evolutionarily advantageous to want to look at beautiful things. It doesn’t mean anything. 
She sighs fondly down into her glass, her breath causing ripples in the wine.
“Can I tell you something?” She says, and it shocks him. He feels a bit like an insider, and adores the feeling of being on the inside of a secret of hers. He’d like to be someone she tells things to. 
He nods, awaiting with baited breath.
“I went out with this guy who’s here tonight. 
Suddenly he doesn’t feel so warm. 
Except, it shouldn’t bother him- they’re not dating. She’s beautiful, all soft lines and curve, lovely blooming smiles and kind-heartedness, and he’s a pipe cleaner with eyes. It’s not a thought he’s entertained-
But still, in this moment, Spencer’s not blind to the image they’re projecting. Hanging back at a party, low lighting and hushed conversation, her in a beautiful dress and him in a rented tux- he could see how someone could mistake the two of them for- for something. 
Did he want that? 
“Spence?” She shakes him out of his thoughts, warm tone punctuated by her adorable head tipping to the side. Had she always been that adorable?
“Sorry, sorry,” he rambles, “You went out with an FBI agent?” His tone is incredulous. She jokingly slaps his arm, and he fills with affection.
“Don’t be mean! It was literally one date, it was before I knew how obnoxious Agent Bennet was. Believe me, he made me realize about ten minutes in.”
She tells him the story of their first and only date, and while he is sure it’s full of anecdotes that are effervescent and hilarious, all he can think about is date with her, date with her, date with her. 
He’d be on time, if they went out. He’d be well-dressed, put together and polite. She’s so lovely, so kind and so sweet and it’s only now he realizes that this is something he can want. 
“So you’d go out with another federal agent?” It’s clumsy and awkward of a question, but it seems the only time it would ever be appropriate to ask it. 
She shrugs, smiling at him.
“If it was the right person, sure.”
“And Bennett wasn’t?”
“No, I don’t think so. I like a different type of guy, you know. Kinda nerdy."
Even despite this, when Spencer spills his coffee on Bennett's legal pad the following week, he can't drum up even a little bit of remorse.
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dollsonmain · 2 months
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Not really adding anything to this post by putting another personal anecdote on it, so link.
This is the Sense of Impending Doom post again, and Joy adds in an excellent description of that feeling. Thank goodness for smart people because I sure as hell wouldn't be able to describe it myself.
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So, when I had the Sense of Impending Doom I started begging to go to the ER (too out of it already to think to just call an ambulance the first time he refused).
When I finally got there three days later (it's a feeling of "It's Coming" not "It's Here", oddly enough, and now I understand how cats know when to go find a quiet place to die), I calmly told the lady at the desk that I thought I was septic, she took one look at me standing there and then had someone come and get me immediately. As far as I know, That Guy gave her my info. I don't remember saying anything to her other than my name and the single word "sepsis".
Then the other nurse asked me if I needed a wheelchair. It took me a bit to process what I was being asked. I could barely think at that point.
I slowly walked to the exam room, laid down, the doctor came in and I calmly told her what I was going through, how long I'd had a fever, that I hadn't eaten or drank much in a week, that I thought it was a uterine infection and why. She immediately put me on IV antibiotics and fluids and rushed me to a CT scan, found the kidney infection and stones, etc. etc.
The whole time I was Very Calm. The whole time, as far as I knew, I was already dead and I was determined to stay on my feet until I couldn't anymore for some reason. That's just kind of how I've always been, I guess.
I knew for certain I was not going home that night, one way or the other.
Even then That Guy wouldn't listen to me and take Son home. He was still waiting in the ER expecting they'd give me a pat on the head and send me home.
Either way, my point is that I didn't really think about how deadpan calm I was until Joy mentioned it, likely because I'm ALWAYS like that during an emergency and then have a panic attack later. I did not have a panic attack, though. I had meds.
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