#this podcast makes me ill (affectionate)
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thinking about how lucretia didn't need to redact lup for her plan to work, how doing that was purely for what she thought was taako's own benefit. she could have left his memories of growing up with her mostly intact, but she didn't, because she didn't want him to have to grieve.
but how being forced to forget lup was the thing that taako was most hurt by. like he still would've been mad at lucretia for stealing his memories of the ipre and everything, but he probably would have eventually forgiven her. but he couldn't forgive taking lup away from him.
#eliot posts#taz#the adventure zone#taz balance#lucretia taz#taako taaco#lucretia i love you i want to study you#you and your tendency to ''help'' people by taking away their autonomy#god...#this podcast makes me ill (affectionate)
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Squirrel (a Gutterballs story)
Eddie Munson x betty!Reader
A jump from modern day to the early 1990's when we meet a young, aspiring rockstar Eddie Munson at the heart of the Seattle grunge scene. I had the huge honor of being included in the Tattoo Cover-up Valentine's Day Special episode of Gutterballs by @dr-aculaaa and I'm still emotional about it, to be honest. This wee contribution is dedicated to Drac, as well as all of the Gutterballs friends I'm proud to know because of this fandom (coming for you, Daria.)
word count: 1.4k
18+, smoking weed, the term 'bitches' used affectionally, mention of heartbreak, allusions to mental illness, a supposed one-night stand that became more, mention of addiction, that one friend who can find anyone online, hurt/comfort. Reader (Betty) has a good friend named Shelby, which is actually my cat in real life.
------
You picked at the label of your beer, waiting impatiently for your friend to pull up something on her laptop.
It was the recent episode of Gutterballs that had spurred your Sherlock Holmes friend into action. You said something in passing about how it’d be impossible to find the rest of Eddie Munson’s lost loves that were mentioned on the infamous podcast, and then she’d lost sleep wanting to prove you wrong.
“So. Here’s Abi and Chelsea,” Shelby motioned for you to come and look over her shoulder. She clicked on search tabs one at a time, including one for Ashley, causing a melancholy smile to quiver at the side of your mouth. “Pretty,” you nodded. “Eddie always knew how to pick ‘em.”
“This one looks dangerous,” she pointed to Jo, adjusting her glasses. “They all seem totally cool, actually.”
You scanned the various results from her internet sleuthing. “Which one is that?”
“Oh, that’s Meg,” Shelby clicked on a social media profile, and then pulled up a video of a chef with purple hair preparing something on the morning show.
“Fuckin, Meg,” you said under your breath in your best Eddie voice.
“Doesn’t she own that restaurant in Chicago we couldn’t afford to go to?” Shelby pinched her joint from the ashtray and took a drag, enlarging photos from their menu, concentrating. “I wonder if they accept Groupon.”
You stealthily followed Abby on social media from your private account and planned to buy some of her watercolor paintings. Funny enough, you already knew Emily. The two of you had been part of a mutual friend group for years, and so when Eddie mentioned them being a bitch you had to snort a laugh because…yeah.
“Nice work, Columbo,” you patted Shelby’s shoulder. “You found all of them in under 24 hours. I shall make you a commemorative plaque out of dry macaroni.”
Checking her phone, your sleuth friend mumbled to herself as she went down a rabbit hole of social media comments.
“Not all,” she slipped her bottom lip through her teeth a few times. “Took me a while to find Rose, they go by a different name on social media. The drawings they do are badass, and they like that same actor you do, the one with the Minecraft head.”
“So, I’m the only one out of all of them who didn’t do anything with my life? Nice.”
“Hey,” she said in mock scorn. “I bet none of these bitches can say they’ve had absolutely every career that’s ever existed. It takes a special kind of ingenuity to change jobs every 6 months. Plus, you wrote and published a whole-ass novel.”
“It only sold 37 copies,” you muttered. “Ten of which were to you and mom.”
You held your breath after that, watching the screen, waiting for the one name you hadn’t been able to connect a face to yet, but instead, Shelby slumped on the barstool with a defeated sigh. “Daria might be the one that got away. Haven’t found even a crumb for who or where they might be.”
“Damn,” you said softly. …where are you, Strigoi?
“How does Eddie even pull partners this hot?” Shelby asked, turning to dig for her Visine. “Wasn’t he the one who bragged about being able to burp the alphabet?”
Laughter bubbled in your throat at the memory; the type of laugh that immediately made tears burst from your eyes. You wiped your face in a way that was more of a slap and turned to stare at the gloom settling into the pines outside the window.
“He has a way about him I suppose.”
“I think you should call him,” she blurted, offering you a hit off the purple kush, but you waved her off. “If only to figure out the Daria mystery.”
“Oh yeah? Just call him? Just like that? Oh, hey Eddie I know it’s been almost three decades, but what’s new?”
“I mean, sounds legit to me.”
Remember those rainy days, Squirrel? Remember…
You tossed and turned early the next morning, reaching for your phone to scroll and help push away intrusive thoughts. How many things you’d fucked up, how many friends you’d lost to time and death and sloppy choices.
Maybe not all was lost…
Seattle, early 1990’s
“My lady is here with us tonight,” Eddie rumbled into the mic, gesturing to you from where he stood on that rickety old stage in front of a rowdy crowd at The Crocodile Cafe. Alice in Chains had played there, as well as Mother Love Bone and Mudhoney, back before they were household names. “This next one's for her.”
From your seat at the bar, you locked eyes with him, beaming with pride, but also shaking your head. “I hate you,” mouthing the words made his dimpled grin grow wider.
“Betty Spaghetti…. My beautiful Aquarius twin.”
The ink on your matching Aquarius glyph tattoos were still covered in Aquaphor that night. You’d spent the past two weeks trying to figure out how this chatty Indiana boy had managed to become a permanent fixture in your life.
“I don’t want anything serious,” you’d said into his mouth while your hands were all over each other in the dive bar bathroom the first time you met. Bonding over booze, blow, and the shared trauma of losing a parent, you recognized that emptiness mirrored in each other and wanted to fill it.
“Cool, neither do I,” he mumbled, shoving his jeans down his hips.
But he’d been lying through his teeth, and he confessed that to you a month later down on the wharf, handing over a little squirrel made of shells from the pocket of his leather jacket. He’d been sneaky and bought it at Ye Olde Curiosity Shop, a place the two of you liked to go to visit the mummified remains of a dude named Sylvester.
There was no major foundation for giving him the nickname Squirrel, one day it just happened. He was on the couch in his boxers, stoned out of his gourd, shoveling pretzels into his mouth at such a manic rate that his cheeks looked like they were about to burst.
“So, you knew I was the one back then? In a dark bar after 8 shots?”
He looped his arm with yours as you walked. “Uh-huh, still do,” he leaned in closer. “Still do.”
At that moment, during those days, you worried that you wouldn’t be able to breathe without him. You were both so young, too young to fully comprehend the impact of that time in your life in later years, or what a trauma bond even was.
But then the day came that you’d come to realize would always arrive for you eventually, and that was the time to move on: to other experiences, other people.
You didn’t know at the time that it could be done any other way, and so you made a real mess of things.
He made several attempts to get in touch with you, including the time years later when he found out from your mom that you were in rehab. He wrote to you, but you never wrote back, never returned his calls.
He wasn’t trying to stir up the old flames or get back together; by then, that ship had sailed, and the Eddie Munson you knew never stayed single for long. But he did want you to know that you weren’t alone, that you would always have a friend in him. That he’d meant it when he said he’d always care about you.
Returning to the current reality, you chewed at your thumbnail, staring at the phone number Shelby had written down for you on a yellow legal pad. How she’d managed to get a hold of Eddie Munson’s private cell number, you’d never know.
You were about to end the call after the second ring, flustered, thinking it would be better to send a text, when just then—- he answered.
Eddie recognized the area code, but never thought in a million years that it would be…
“H-hey Squirrel, it’s me.”
Dead silence made your heart flop. Maybe you should say it’s a wrong number, maybe this was a mistake. What if he considered you a lost love, but he no longer wanted anything to do with you? He did cover up the tattoo, after all.
“Well, well, if it isn’t my Betty Fuckin’ Spaghetti,” you could hear the joy in his voice, could hear his wide smile cracking into seasoned laugh lines. “I’ve missed the shit outta you.”
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The Daily D/S For 1/12/24:
How has participating in BDSM activities contributed to your self-discovery?
Embarking on a journey of self-discovery is a deeply personal and often transformative experience. For me, this exploration has taken me into the world of BDSM. Today I will share how participating in BDSM activities has contributed to my self-discovery, challenging societal norms, and overcoming personal struggles.
One of the key lessons I have learned in the realm of BDSM is the acceptance that my desires and preferences, though unconventional by societal standards, do not make me weird or abnormal. Some of my close vanilla friends affectionately refer to me as "Edweirdo," teasingly acknowledging my kinky inclinations. Through BDSM, I have come to understand that these desires are an integral part of my identity, shaping who I am as a person. The lifestyle has taught me to embrace my authentic self without succumbing to the judgment of others.
My journey into BDSM was not always smooth, especially considering the historical stigma attached to it. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) once labeled individuals participating in BDSM as mentally ill. Overcoming the internalized belief that something was inherently wrong with me was a crucial step in my personal growth. It required a commitment to self-education and a broader understanding of human sexuality.
Participating in BDSM activities involves continuous learning and growth. I have committed myself to understanding the intricacies of BDSM, from consent and communication to the psychological aspects of power dynamics. This commitment to knowledge not only enhanced my experiences within the lifestyle but also contributed to my personal development and self-awareness.
By embracing the knowledge gained through BDSM exploration, I have found the path to living authentically. Rejecting societal norms and expectations, I have chosen to define my own identity. The lifestyle has empowered me to be true to myself, cultivating a sense of authenticity that extends beyond the boundaries of the community. Living authentically has brought about a profound sense of happiness and fulfillment that might have remained elusive if I had chosen to suppress my desires.
Participating in BDSM activities can be a gateway to profound self-discovery, challenging societal norms and fostering personal growth. My journey has been one of acceptance, overcoming stigma, continuous learning, and the embrace of authenticity.
How has participating in the lifestyle helped you discover your authentic self? Share your thoughts and experiences in the comments below.
If you enjoyed this, I invite you to give my podcast a listen 'Chatting With The Lightkeeper,' a top 25% most-followed podcasts on Spotify but available on all the major podcasting apps and follow my socials for more exclusive content: Instagram, Facebook, and X (formerly Twitter) for a deeper dive into the wonderful world of D/S.
As with all of my thoughts, please see this disclaimer.
©TLK2024
#d/s relationship#bd/sm community#dom/sub#d/s community#my writing#bd/sm blog#bd/sm daddy#bd/sm kink#bd/sm lifestyle#bd/sm relationship#d/s#daily d/s
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as much as i’m sick of the “saint diana” narrative, i’m also beginning to be sick of whatever narrative charles diehards seem to be propagating. as you said, there’s a lot of nuance in the story and i can’t believe that, after the multiple tv/movie portrayals of this same story along with the never-ending conversations (which i am aware i am ironically still adding to), people still don’t get that it is just what it is. for example, charles or his friends or spin doctors or whoever tried to put charles’s side of the story out there by saying that diana’s mood swings and eating disorder made charles depressed and suicidal. While I can be like, oh that makes me sick af as if charles isn’t a grown ass man I can’t believe he’s trying to deflect blame by putting it all on his young wife, I also can acknowledge that charles struggled with his mental health too, but also not use that as an excuse to not think that he was a weak man at least with regards to how he dealt with that particular situation. at the end of the day, they’re just an ill-matched couple. and yes there’s also the huge age difference, which is def a factor but i also think it’s simplistic to portray charles as some predator. we have to see it through the lens of societal factors at play. fact is, in the past, it was more common for women to marry at a young age to much older men. i think even diana’s mother got married at 18 to diana’s father who was in his 30s. even my own grandmother married young and my mother met my father when she was a teenager and he was in his late twenties. while i think, there are definitely negative outcomes from practices that used to be common (which is why society evolves), it’s not accurate to portray it as though charles is some predator in the same league as, say, andrew for example. I think a lot of the gen z woke mob (i’m not sure if that is an accurate description of the demographic i am referring to but that’s my impression of who they are??) who buy into “rebel diana” actually see her too as a me-too victim. idk, but anyway my point is, as you said, nuance. even with regards to the issue of charles being a good or bad parent. as much as i hate to give any credence to anything harry says, it makes me roll my eyes when charles’ diehards pull out pictures of him being affectionate to harry in public as if that will prove that’s he’s a good father. i’m not saying he’s a bad father too, but he definitely wasn’t perfect or just a victim of evil PR machinations by one manipulative woman. even william had some grievances about charles’s parenting. although i’m probably just guessing on william’s part since he never explicitly says it. (but really what child doesn’t have grievances about their parents). the seeming obsession with family time is probably william trying to heal some childhood wound lmao (not that it should be used as an excuse to criticisms about their work ethic lol). the only difference i suppose with william & harry is that william understands the nuance more so has chosen to forgive.
I was actually listening to a the crown podcast (yea i know i’m sorry i still watch that show 😬) and peter morgan says something along the lines of how he still hasn’t lost interest because the relationship dynamics and all that in the family, etc. still keeps him fascinated. while i’m not 100% down with how things are portrayed on the crown, i lowkey understand him because i won’t be a hypocrite, i admit that yes the drama does keep me interested. and you know what keeps it interesting? the nuances.
word of the day is: nuance
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hey !! i wanted to request a match up with anyone from class 1a of mha
pronouns: she/her or they/them
age: 17
sexuality: omnisexual
mbti: infj-t
personality traits: blunt, emphatic, calm, reserved, both emotional and logical, passionate, altruistic, reluctant to open up, perfectionist, stubborn
love: cats, horror movies, drums, working out, reading, painting, physics, dancing, spicy food, lemonade, making poems, music, listening to social research podcasts (different perspectives over certain trends and/or issues), basketball, volleyball, running
hate: sweet food and drinks, car rides
appearance: i am 5'0ft, brown hair (mid- length), brown eyes, small oval face, spectacles cause weak eyesight (not too weak), brown skin, hourglass body, weight around 45kg
a lil more about myself: i can make friends pretty easily, i love teasing the people i love and getting really sarcastic with em, it's easy for me to adapt to people and the environment, i love taking walks, i love kids and animals and get along with them really well, i can learn new skills pretty easily, i know 3 languages, m touch starved and also suffering from severe anxiety and depression.
thank you in advance, have a pretty life like yourself <33
omg thank you sm!! im so sorry this took so long to answer, but thank you for your patience!! i hope u like them <3
ɪ ꜱʜɪᴘ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪᴛʜ… ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ!
ᴛᴡ: none!
look im gonna keep it real with you i hate bakugo but ill do this 4 u dont worry <3
ITS LIKE. i kinda view yall as an opposites attract sort of thing i think
you share some traits with him but for the most part you're a good balance to his otherwise explosive (lol) personality
you tease him a lot and it gets on his nerves, but he also knows that you can take it if he teases back (he knows not to overstep his boundaries though)
you also seem to like,, innately understand the emotions he's trying to portray even though it seems like annoyance most of the time. like if he's tired or sad you know that him being snappy isn't just him being shitty and you make sure to try and help him as best as you can and he really appreciates that out of you
in turn he's like, really protective over you considering you mean a lot to him
he admires you a lot too, since you seem to be a very balanced and intelligent person and he genuinely feels like he can learn a lot from you
that means that you're usually right when it comes to arguments though and he doesn't like that
both of you being stubborn means that you're not willing to quit when worst comes to worst, but you're able to move past arguments through talking them out
considering his family situation i feel like he has in issue with discussing things, but he gets better at it since he's too stubborn to break up with you and ruin a good relationship
EVEN THOUGH I DONT LIKE HIM i know for a fact that he tries his best to be better if he cares enough and he most definitely cares enough about you to change shit that would put a strain between you
like i feel like he has issues with physical contact since he didn't receive a lot of affection as a kid so he tries his best to be affectionate with you even though it's a process to get used to
he really likes it though!! it just takes him a while to get over the embarrassment from it so i feel like in the beginning he wouldn't be a big fan of PDA LMAO
as he gets more accustomed to it he just starts being more aggressive towards people that give you weird stares, but no matter how long yall are in a relationship you'll always be able to catch that little blush on his cheeks when ya'll hold hands in public
ALSO LAST THING. since yall share a lot of interests he probably finds it easier to find ways to spend time with you, even though he does in fact go out of his way to do things you're interested in. he'll deny it until he dies tho lol
[ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛɪɴɢ! ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ <3 ]
#bakugo katsuki#bakugo katuski x reader#bakugo headcanons#bakugo imagine#bnha#bnha headcanons#bnha imagine#mha#mha headcanon#mha imagine#my hero academia#my hero academia headcanons#my hero academia imagine#boku no hero#boku no hero academia#bakugo x reader#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x you#bnha matchups#mha matchups
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December 2022
A ticket to the planetarium at the kids museum on a bland day in a bland city. Glow-in-the-dark stars and planets, a moving tunnel just like the Hexenschaukel. Golden glitter curtains reflecting the sunlight (El Salvador seems to be obsessed with Christmas). A kitty sleeping in the park. Pupusas. The girl from El Salvador/Texas who called her cousin for me and helped me find out where to buy bus tickets.
Mastering the blueberry challenge - recording a video of me making a blueberry hover over my mouth.
A very plushy and luxurious bus seat on the way to Honduras. A faint rainbow. Green valleys and mountains.
How my friends showed up for me when I told them my mum was very sick. Frank kept asking me how I was, offered support. Was suddenly really there. Doris stayed up very late for me so we could talk on the phone. Compassionate messages and offers.
Talking to my mum via Skype. It helped me accept and understand the situation when I could see/hear/feel her and learned how she felt about her illness.
Blanca picking me up from the bus station, listening to me, getting me back there the next day.
Listening to podcasts for hours and hours.
Palm tree forests with cow herds grazing. Passing a Chiquita banana farm on the way to the ferry terminal in La Ceiba.
The completely artificial and overly syrupy cocktail cherry on my smoothie.
I saw five cats one morning. Obviously they all thought I was there to deliver breakfast. One even tried biting into my forearm to see if I was the snack.
Diving! Seeing a huge puffer fish. Not fucking up. Everything went smoothly.
Being able to almost cross my legs? I'm obsessed. And want to keep losing weight!
Strutz, Jonah Hill's documentary about his therapist. I learned about some interesting thoughts and concepts. But it was nothing new - actually it all comes down to the same work but Strutz has a different way of explaining things. And that was nice to learn as well - I already know what I need to know. I have to stop looking for teachers and guidance and put the wisdom I already have to practice.
I went over to the freediving centre. Didn't get the introduction course right away but was invited to come out on the boat to watch and snorkel. Walter, a red female cat, showed up and was super affectionate. My emotional support animal. We took out the boat, it was raining. Marc gave me his jacket. Everyone prepared for their training and I watched Marc doing line dives. Tried a few myself. I enjoyed using the long fins, how easy it is to get down. The plankton, the air bubbles, like a marine whirl pool. Marc's air rings. The last one was perfect, almost like a hula hoop. Diving some more. Seeing the sheer mass of water and light above me coming up. The blue abyss below me.
Seeing the reflection of the sun and sky in a puddle on the boat deck.
More scuba diving. Seeing a funny fish with some feather headdress in black and white. A spotted eagle ray. Diving though narrow passageways.
Drinks with the divers. Just a bit of socialising. It was good for me not to be alone all the time.
A gorgeous sunset and the last full moon of the year.
Loving kindness meditation.
A very good cup of coffee after lots of Nescafé fails.
A consoling online therapy session. It's nice to have another mum figure in my life.
My first full month of meditation milestone.
Feel Good on Netflix. I'm attracted to Mae Martin. But I obviously identify with her girlfriend in the series.
Music trivia quiz at Sundowners! KC and Alex were very good. Also, I love them as a couple. They seem to really enjoy their life! And I bonded a little with the other Alex, a girl from Texas who works at a space agency and has racoons living under her house. I love her assertiveness and taste in jewellery.
Freediving! Getting my certificate. Successfully "saving" my instructor from drowning twice. A barracuda hanging out with me. All the sexy/tan/heavily tattooed diving folks on the boat. And they were all so nice and friendly. Marlene from Montreal gave us rambutans. Lisa from the UK was extremely lovely. What an awesome community. I mustn't forget Marc and Walter the cat! And the diving is just gorgeous. I love the feeling down there. Just hanging on to a line. The efficiency of wimming with long fins.
A green kolibri just whirring around outside the terrace where I had my Sunday breakfast.
Extra foamy foam on my cappuccino. Cocoa powder. Good scrambled egg with veggies, avocado, cheese and hot sauce.
A tiny little discount on my rambutans.
Getting the plane seats I wanted without having to switch or pay for anything. And finding out that I don't have to pay for checked luggage! What a relief.
I got to know some divers at Chillie's (Ash and her dad Marc) and we all went out for dinner. I had such an interesting conversation with Marc, an older artist and furniture designer who'd recently lost his wife. We talked about life, design, the power of thoughts and breath, karma and so much more. Connecting with Brandon, Ash and Alex over drinks on my last night on the island.
The last Roatan sunset was a good one, too.
Leftover pizza for my airport oddyssee.
Finding out that my belly fits under the fold out table in the airplane by now. Loving this.
Watching old movies. I especially enjoyed 28 Days. I'm having a Sandra Bullock moment.
Annika picking me up from the airport on the coldest day of the year. Everything was frozen and covered in frost or ice. Crunchy steps. She's even brought a hat and gloves for me. We ended up driving around for almost three hours because it turned out I had the wrong keys and needed to get a Covid test for the hospital visit.
Moving in at home. Taking care of my mum. Driving and cooking for the first time in a while. Helping her with everything. Feeling effective and useful.
My mum feels so much better at home. Seeing her on the first day in the hospital was scary.
IKEA veggie hot dogs with Lena and Christian.
Chocolate, herbal tea and truffle mustard from Lena. And Sash gave me another big box of Zotter chocolate for Christmas.
Seeing the Friendzone for dinner.
Cuddling with Do. She visited me on my second day back in Germany.
Meditation with visualization. Visualising a garden in summer. Cats, planting seeds, the sunlight feeling warm on my skin. The smell of the soil. Buzzing insects.
Crosswords and sudoku to pass the time.
Thai massage. Ing triggering a smiling reflex when she hit exactly the right spots.
Making Haluschki for my mum. Baking cheese biscuits.
It was so good to see Becky and Manu and finally talk again after such a long time. Then I picked up Doris from school. We went to Erding, walked around a few stores and had Indian food for dinner. Then we cuddled and held hands at the cinema.
A new puffy bag.
Spending the evenings talking to my mum. Asking questions, listening to stories about her past.
Semolina dessert with cherry jam.
Meeting Lena for long walks along the river.
Visiting Dory at home for the first time. I got so many unexpected Christmas presents and loved every single one of them. We tried out a few toys, had breakfast at the bakery and watched Nous finirons ensemble while eating Nidar Smash.
A quick visit at Sash's parents' house on New Year's Eve. Maya fed me her homemade Russian food. We half-watched a classic movie and toasted with champagne at midnight.
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books recs <3
Literary fiction
Giovanni's Room
the kind of book that’s best if you go in blind. just know that baldwin remains a classic for a reason. his writing makes me want to gnaw on my own wrist (affectionate). his use of motifs makes me want to pull out a cork-board and pin up snippets of pages just to connect them with bits of red thread. devastating, raw, heart wrenching, tragic, other adjectives of the sort
Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead
gilda is a deeply mentally-ill atheist lesbian who’s ends up getting hired as a receptionist in a catholic church when in search for free therapy. subsequent shenanigans ensue and by shenanigans i mean she’s just … spirals. this novel is sharp, funny, deeply relatable (isn’t that reveling), and at it’s core utterly human
Fantasy
A Marvelous Light
ok hear me out: for fans of our flag means death, i found the perfect edwardian fantasy romance for you. god this book is such a delight. robin gets the thrust into magical society after he mistakenly gets declared a liaison. obviously he falls in love with his magical counterpart, who’s prickly and obsessed with libraries. it’s quite possible that i am a tad in love with him. super interesting magic system + lush setting (also the author is a host of an absolute banging podcast called ‘be the serpent’)
The Poppy War (and subsequent installments)
where do i ever begin. the world building is brilliant and rooted within chinese history. it’s gritty and dark and so bloody smart. rin is the epitome of the post that’s like ‘i’m a girlboss, i’m a war criminal, i’m the next virgin mary, i will defeat god’ (paraphrased clearly). i simultaneously love her and want to shake her vigorously by the shoulders. she is my little meow meow. oh right plot. to clarify, rin is poor orphan who manages to gets into sinegard, an  prestigious military school, and there she discovers her connection to shamanism. discusses the harsh realities of war and explores the depth of relationship formed because of it
The Midnight Lie
YA fantasy that has surprisingly complex conversations about class, compulsive heterosexuality, exploitation, and toxic relationships. still tbh the relationship is what kept me reading. every interaction between nirrim and sid had me giggling, twirling my hair, looking way abashedly, the works. the lines “Nirrim, I can’t be good to you. / Then be bad.” make me want to scream into a pillow like an early 2000s disney movie. i’m so tired of love interests in romcoms being describe as swoon-worthy when they’re just some guy. sid on the other hand; she’s this delightful butch who kisses girls’ palms and compares them to indigo flowers and — jfc moving on.
Non-Fiction
In the Dream House
memoir recounting an abusive relationship framed through vignettes of narrative tropes/literary devices. so fucking devastating and haunting. dream house as: queer villain, ambiguity, choose your own adventure, and death wish; all really suck with me. really think everyone should get this a read if you’re in the right place for it
Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches
brilliant collection abt racism, sexism, class, homophobia, and the ways they overlap “Guilt is not a response to anger; it is a response to one’s own actions or lack of action. If it leads to change then it can be useful, since it is then no longer guilt but the beginning of knowledge. Yet all too often, guilt is just another name for impotence, for defensiveness destructive of communication; it becomes a device to protect ignorance and the continuation of things the way they are, the ultimate protection for changelessness.“
Poetry
Crush
if you haven’t yet read a richard siken quote yet while scrolling through this hell-site i commend you because how. is there really anything else to say. wishbone is a particular favorite of mine but every single word in this collection makes me feral
Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver
the only time i will ever be willing to frolic is after reading an oliver poem. i come out of the experience feeling rejuvenated? compassionate? with the understanding that yes rocks do, in fact, have feelings, why wouldn’t they?
If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho
big fan of this specific translation. should be considered the lesbian master doc. that’s probably problematic. well anyways. the bit when she describes very literally fainting after hearing a woman’s laugh from across the room. slay! she’s just like me fr
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I’ve already alluded to it plenty here, so: let me tell you about my friends’ TTRPG game.
So, almost two months ago, my friends @hgb94 and @nilim started what was supposed to be a oneshot of Ships That Pass, a two-person game about queer spaceships in love. Because they like to talk a lot (affectionate), they didn’t finish. So they played a second session, and still didn’t finish. And then, because they liked their characters, they started adding extra scenes and secondary characters. And then they started adding flashback scenes to create extra context for the characters. And then they threw out the rules entirely, and it became largely-improvised collaborative storytelling.
Oh, and they’d recorded it all from the beginning, so they started editing the present-day and flashback scenes together to create episodes, complete with music, soundscaping, and narrated scene introductions. Not for anyone but themselves, but, well, I did start listening.
But the story, friends, the story. It’s so good. It starts off simply: the Elysium (Ely), a luxury cruise ship and a bit of a prankster, meets the Scythe (Scy), a biomedical research ship and a stickler for rules, while both of them are near a plasma cloud. They start talking, and Ely’s sense of humour enchants Scy as much as Scy’s stories of the wonderful phenomena she studies enchant Ely. They start finding excuses to pass by each other. Scy introduces Ely to an ice storm. Ely starts writing poetry for Scy. They’re frankly adorable.
But things aren’t that simple. Both ships have close bonds with their captains and crew. Ely has been flying with her captain, Richard, a kind, gruff, and Tired man, for fifteen years; Scy’s been with her cool but Disaster captain Manon for less time, but they care for each other deeply. However, in this world, AI are seen as property — and dangerous property at that. Fifteen years ago, there was a brutal war fought over AI rights, where the colonialist Coalition used propaganda about “rogue AI” to justify invading other planets, and the rebels fought (and lost) to try to protect their ships and planets.
But that was fifteen years ago — it’s all “settled” now. Supposedly.
When one of Manon’s crew dies of illness, both she and Scy are brought in for psychological evaluations, and Manon’s suspiciously pro-AI and anti-MAN (Monitors of Artificial Norms) sentiments put her under further investigation by the MAN. They assign her an Agent, Oliver (Ollie), who comes on board to monitor both Scy and Manon.
Fortunately for them, Ollie’s a young but incredibly bright Agent on his first mission, and particularly sympathetic to AI. Doubly fortunate, he’s the protégé of Theresa Williams, a ruthless senior man Agent who’s been plotting undercover revenge against the MAN for over a decade because they reprogrammed her ship. Williams “recruited” Ollie out of university — that is, discovered Ollie had pro-AI views that might get him in trouble and then blackmailed his family so he’d join the MAN and be “protected.” She’s mentored him ever since, and despite her insistence that attachments are a weakness, she cares deeply for him.
Williams assigned Scy’s case file to Ollie after she noticed Scy & Ely’s anomalous flight patterns; she wants to help. She hopes no one else notices this dangerous pattern — particularly because Richard and Manon should not be meeting. See, while Richard and Manon know that Ely & Scy are in love, they don’t know who the other’s captain is.
Manon doesn’t know that Ely’s captain is Richard, her mother Elske’s lover, who was almost her stepfather — who was forcibly conscripted to the pro-Coalition side, while her mother fought and died for the rebels. Richard, who never contacted Manon after the war.
On the other hand, Richard doesn’t know that Scy’s captain is Manon, the daughter of the woman he loved; the woman who he saw die, for whom he punched out a Commanding Officer, for whom he was ready to die. Manon, whom Richard was forbidden by the MAN from contacting after the war, who was used as leverage for Richard’s silence about the war.
When they find out who the other is, well, that’s when things really start going to shit. Because Agents aside from Williams and Ollie have started noticing what’s going on, and that puts everyone in danger: Scy, Ely, Manon, Richard, Ollie, and Williams. To get out of this mess, the captains & ships will have to trust the rogue Agents, Manon will have to trust Richard, and they all will have to believe there’s a life outside of the MAN’s control.
And that’s about where I am in the story so far — I’m told it’s not even halfway done. I am literally bouncing with excitement for every single upcoming episode.
And like! The story is beautiful — it’s a queer romantic love story between spaceships yes, but also a queerplatonic love story between ships and captains, a story of love lost and found, of found families, of redemption, of healing, of learning to care and hope after trauma. And the characters, goddamn, I love every single one of them: Scy, sweet, reserved, a little naïve, a bit of a know-it-all but in the most loving way; Ely, hilarious, protective, and hopeful even after 200 years; Manon, simultaneously carefree and incredibly angry; Richard, weighed down by years of guilt but learning to be courageous; Ollie, who sees the best in everyone even after years of being told that it will only hurt him; and Williams, cold and ruthless and vengeful but really broken-hearted and more kind than she wants to admit.
And that’s not even mentioning the side characters; at this point, both players play over half a dozen characters each — some love-to-hate villains, some loveable goofs. And they play them so well, like, I’ve played with both my friends in the past and I know how good they are at role-play — but they’re still blowing me away with the strength of their RP in every single goddamn scene. And their shockingly good audio editing makes it feel… well, genuinely like a real podcast.
It’s just… amazing. I’m so proud and astounded by my friends, and feel so lucky that I get to sit in on (and write fanfic for, and create a fanvid for, and make a fanwiki for) this story. It’s really cool, and like. Wow. I have cool friends.
#ttrpgs#thanks for reading if you do :D :D :D#and Babs & Heather I hope you're ok with me spilling all your secrets here#my stuff#ships that pass
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From one Jon stan to another: Top 5 soft-kink gentle little thoughts? ☁️🌺💕
ohOHOHOHO i had to think about these. i have. many jon thoughts and maybe they dont fit this ask but here you go fdfjsakldjf <3
1. I think this is a pretty commonly held headcanon, but if Jon feels safe with someone, he’s a stage five clinger. He’s lacked affection for most of his life, and by the time he’s the Archivist, people only touch him to hurt him. I think he’s a naturally affectionate person when he gets comfortable, though maybe after the circus, he has to be the one to initiate the touch. He likes being cuddled and carried and cherished!! If you play with his hair or give him a good head scratch he will melt! I’m crying.
2. A little bit of praise goes a long way with him. Even a simple ‘good job’ or thumbs up can warm him up. He doesn’t get a lot of positive affirmation in his life, so he treasures each compliment and gets a bit flustered when he hears them (which, unfortunately, isn’t often). It helps with the imposter syndrome he’s got going on 24/7.
3. Going along with this, he needs clear visual cues or he has a hard time reading people. If he’s talking, and someone’s nodding and smiling, you can actually get him to talk for quite some time. He wants to tell people about all the information he has stored in his head!! I like to think this is how Martin’s birthday went down :)
4. Patience!! There was a really good post going around by @ashes-in-a-jar that pointed out Jon needing time and space to gather his thoughts and express them, and how he doesn’t really get that in the podcast. Give him time to formulate an answer and he can put his thoughts into words! He’s not good at being put on the spot, and when someone immediately shoots down what he says that makes it even worse.
5. He likes being guided and told what he needs to do, but it needs to be clear cut instruction. I think about the line ‘tell me what to do and ill do it!’ from the Night Night episode a lot. He doesn’t like being forced to make assumptions and decisions when things have a lot of moving parts, it makes him very anxious. But he actually very much enjoys doing things for people/accomplishing tasks if he knows the parameters and isn’t paralyzed about making the wrong decision.
I feel like I just made a ‘five steps to get my version of Jon to fall in love with you’ lmao. I just think he has a lot of trauma to unpack that stems from more than just the supernatural (I am once again thinking about ‘Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist’s Grandmother’) and he needs to be treated gently <3
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Leah and Rachel for the brotp ask please
Thank you Anon! <3
What in-jokes do they have with each other?
Probably a lot of jokes around mental health, rip. They’ll randomly quote “I’M nOt FuCkInG CrAzY” at each other. Their therapists post-experiment are probably somewhat concerned.
Are they the “I’ll pay this time if you pay next time”-type friends, or the “I’ll pay for my food and you’ll pay for yours”-type friends?
Can be either, but Rachel doesn’t like improvising all that much, so they usually agree in advance re: who’s paying.
Who’s more prone to pranking, or otherwise messing with, the other?
Leah doesn’t really do pranks. Rachel doesn’t either, except it’s really funny to mess with Leah. Her favorite pranks post-island involve her prosthesis. Somehow, Leah keeps forgetting not to ask Rachel to “give her a hand”, and really, how can Rachel resist.
How do they text/message each other? Proper punctuation and capital letters, egregious overuse of emojis, mostly in meme format…?
Proper punctuation and spelling in general, though they for sure use emojis.
Do they exchange jokey birthday presents, or deeply thought-out and meaningful presents? Or both?
Leah’s gifts are always very intense and a tad dramatic but very thoughtful - here’s a framed picture of us sitting together at a cafe after we won the trial, here’s a mixtape of songs that remind me of you, here’s an obscure French movie I think you’d really like because of One Specific Scene. Rachel gives Leah a lot of art to decorate her dorm room/apartment, she really gets Leah’s aesthetic, even though she makes fun of it constantly. (”I don’t know why you keep calling me a hipster when half of the decorations on my walls comes from you,” Leah protests, once. “i’m an enabler,” Rachel replies, “it’s different.”)
They go on a road trip together. Who drives, who picks the music, who’s in charge of snacks?
Rachel drives at first, but Leah is a terrible co-pilot (easily distracted, very fidgety, constant chatter that grates on Rachel’s nerves), so halfway through (and after numerous fights involving missed exits) they switch. It’s a much better fit: Leah gets to focus on the task at hand, Rachel gets to give her directions. They actually listen to a podcast together - non-fiction - and get really into it. Rachel picks the snacks - a very healthy selection, but she does get Leah an extravagant Starbucks drink, so Leah doesn’t whine too much.
What do they think of each other’s family?
They’re fine with each other’s parents, though critical of the way they handled their respective daughters’ mental health crises...
Do they have any nicknames for each other?
Idiot (affectionate). Asshole (complimentary). Genius (derogatory... or is it?). If Rachel ever calls her “Rilke”, Leah knows she’s in trouble.
Who’d be the first to try and patch things up if they had a fight?
Leah apologizes first usually, she’s trying to be better at handling conflict, and she’s a bit afraid of pushing people away. But Rachel always reassures her that it’s not going to happen, no matter how much they fight.
One of their phones goes off in the middle of the night. Who’s calling whom, and why?
Leah is having an existential crisis. Or a panic attack. Or both. Rachel is always happy to talk.
What’s their favourite funny story about something that happened to the two of them?
That one time they physically fought over Jeff’s book... it’s funny now.
Would they do a joint cosplay? If so, who would they dress up as?
Not really their thing.
Do they have any TV shows that they watch together? Are there any shows they have wildly different opinions on?
Rachel gets Leah into cartoons, and they end up binge-watching ATLA together. A rare instance in which they have the exact same opinions about everything.
Which one is the “fight me” friend and which one is the one who tries to keep the peace and prevent their friend from punching a total stranger?
It might look like Rachel is the “fight me” friend, but it’s totally Leah. Then again, sometimes they’re BOTH the “fight me” friend, in the sense that they are fighting each other. (It’s mostly for fun, but nobody else in the bar knows this, which is how an unamused Dot and a VERY amused Fatin end up having to bail them out of the station one night.)
One of them comes up with an ill-advised but mostly harmless idea. Does the other one egg them on because they think it’ll be funny, or try and talk them out of it?
A dialogue that happens daily:
Leah: I have an idea!
Rachel: No.
Leah: But I haven’t told you anything about it yet :(
Rachel: Did I stutter?
Who would win if they arm-wrestled?
Rachel, obviously.
Who’s better at what type of video games, and how competitive are they when they play together?
Also Rachel, though Leah is competitive and surprisingly good at first person shooter games.
One of them ends up in hospital for something serious but not life-threatening. What does the other bring along when they visit in order to cheer them up?
Leah brings her pretty flowers and a very kind, well-written card, and absolutely no food, because she knows it still stresses Rachel out, sometimes, especially in a hospital context. She also brings a deck of cards, and sits on Rachel’s bed so they can play Go Fish, and she lets Rachel win every single time.
How huggy are they?
They’re a bit shy with hugging at first, but they get progressively more comfortable with it. After the island, they always greet each other with a hug.
What was the moment when they first realized that they’d become friends?
That night talk on the beach after their expedition up the mountain. Though there are plenty of ups and downs in their friendship afterwards...
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Markiplier and his basic placements (Astrology)
This is an attempt of delineation as someone who is a wee bab in astro (Need to say this because y’all will smite me). This is a basic interpretation of Mark Edward Fischbach, also known as the Youtuber Markiplier and is one half of the duo in Unus Annus. He was born on June 28, 1989 in Honolulu, Hawaii at 5:36 AM, as per his 30th birthday video.
This will be in the traditional and in whole signs.
Cancer ASC, Sun, Chiron and Venus - The Cancerian archetypes are visible in this. He is often shown as very expressive, reactive and sensitive. There are several times he has cried (Whenever his community does wonderful things), can’t hold up his laughter (Try not to laugh challenge videos) and even anger (The whole Youtube chat banning thing). He is basically a soft boi both inside and if he feels things, he will definitely let people know despite at times he has difficulty restraining it (opposing Saturn). He is also affectionate, sentimental and nurturing. These characteristics are what people might perceive to him and how he presents himself in general. Cancer ascending has a typical feature of having soft faces and small stature soooo I’m sorry Mark if you are reading this.
Taurus moon - Taurus moons want comfort and emotional stability. His moon is in 11H (friendships, alliances) so there is this chillness when he is surrounded by his close friends. He does collaborate with them a lot as well and you can tell his rowdy enjoyment in being with them. He loves the security he has regarding his friends, preferably a small circle of friends, and trusts them a lot. He did say he is an introvert multiple times, as his moon is trine with his sun, this can be an indication of that.
Gemini Mercury and Jupiter - He is very articulate in his communication, especially about his experiences in serious topics, as per the domicile of Mercury. He can make so many reasons to get himself out of it and can talk for hours. He also uses his platform for charity livestreams several times.
As his placements are in the 12H, which are about limitations, restrictions, it can also mean self undoing. 12th house often has significations relating to mental illness, this can relate regarding to his ADHD. Jupiter in Gemini shows a detriment state, which means how he approach and process his thoughts specifically (conjunction with Mercury) are different and often goes in excess. This can go in scattered and in over the top manner despite his intentions are good. Also, as mentioned, this is the house of restriction, at times he doesn’t set much boundaries to himself. One example is when he has to do a tasteful nude calendar and had to sign thousands of it, which he did in days. This is for a charity event for Cancer Research Institute. At that time as well, he had promised a ghost pepper challenge but he had to pass it out because of the calendar and health reasons.
Leo Mars - Mars is in Leo in the 2nd house, the house of possessions, financial resources and support. Albeit jokingly, he did say “I AM A MAN WHO HAS 5 OVENS.” and has a competitive streak in every little thing he does which he has to check and be humbled regardless, especially to his circles. Multiple times he showed a dare me attitude and pushing his limits to see how far he can go, despite Ethan teasing him he is a “masochist”. This can indicate his part of being prideful and cockiness as he often shows it as a joke multiple times. This placement can show the potential to leadership, especially regarding his friendships (square to Moon in Taurus along with Venus in Cancer in the 11H, also squaring to Pluto in 5H), but as mentioned prior, he has to be aware of the line between his pride and temperament professionally and emotionally. (Ruler of 10H and 5H also indicates it). One example I can think of was about the Markiplier and Cyndago situation years ago, which he did an apology for it and another, even though this is a fun activity, was the Presidential Fitness Test in Unus Annus with Ethan, where he punched the wall (can be out of the competitive pressure), injured himself and sincerely apologized to him afterwards.
Capricorn Saturn, Uranus and Neptune - These planets landed on his 7th house, which is more about his partnerships/relationships. This can go to his relationship with Amy, his girlfriend. Yes, she is a Gemini, but in this context, she shows a Saturnian nature to him. One example is her helping him with his schedule and projects. She can be a big influence to the discipline and adjustments he has to do to get on his day and to make his commitments meet (Opposing his Cancer placements). Another one that can show indication is his business partner of the clothing brand Cloak, Sean McLoughlin (Jacksepticeye), it has a nice touch that he has a Capricorn stellium. Another is to his fellow Youtuber and friend Ethan Nestor (Crankgameplays), his partner in Unus Annus, who according to him, has a Capricorn rising. Being in trine to his Moon in Taurus shows stability and reassurance within their common circles.
Pisces MC - As this is in trine to his Cancer placements, he has a reputation of emotional outbursts and creativity in various ways in his videos. Also, he has ventured to different kinds besides Youtube, such as having an improv tour You’re Welcome and voiced over multiple characters, especially in the podcast Edge of Sleep.
Mark is slowly finishing his Saturn Return this year. In the past years, there have been big significant changes mostly pertaining to his relationships/partnerships. As said in the Capricorn section, Amy is a big influence to Mark’s daily life and creative projects, she has been more of the back end of things but did a tremendous input especially to his biggest project A Heist with Markiplier last year. Also, Ethan and Mark launched Unus Annus, a Youtube channel that uploads one video a day and it will all be deleted a year later. They try new things every video and they have the Memento Mori as another slogan and says death themes a lot. This is such a Saturnian theme especially in Capricorn. Because of this, he has become incredibly busy and hence has to keep and follow a schedule. In 2018, Sean and Mark launched their clothing brand Cloak.
This 2020 will be very interesting as his annual profection will be in the 8th house, the place of resources of others, death, taxes, etc., where its ruler (Saturn because it's in Aquarius) is in the 7th (relationships/partnerships). I kind of see this in the Unus Annus project they had going on, as it attracted a fanbase and celebrating its last video this year and eventually disappearing will be a significant thing (ending a thing, or a “death”). This can also mean a possible venture of shared resources via partnership, as he shared that there is a works for a sequel of A Heist with Markiplier.
Sources:
Patrick Watson’s site
Skyscript site
Astro Peeps I talked in Astro Twitter
The Houses: Temples of the Sky by Deborah Houlding
Chart Interpretation Handbook by Stephen Arroyo
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*taps mic* hello y’all! for this week’s LKT, i proudly present to you... *checks notes* ... *coughs* ... uhh it’s just pwp!!
Awake With Wolf Teeth
[ao3]
[Rating: Explicit
Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast
Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Sir Damien
Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla
Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, (i'm not a scalie but i'm also not a coward), Pining, Reunion Sex, (jesus fuck how do people tag things i'm such a disaster), Biting, Quiet Sex, Sneaky Sex, (adflkajds i hope y'all like this...... i mean... i do? but what the hell do I know??????)
Summary: Sir Damien has been gone for weeks now, and Lord Arum is incapable of waiting a single moment more before he can hold him again.
Notes: Look. I swear I'm writing smut that's NOT just these two. I have uhhhh three more in the works, two with all three of them and one that's Arum/Rilla. This one just. Took over my brain. uhhhhhhh have fun I hope????? *slinks away anxiously* Title taken from the song Heartbeats, by José González.]
~
What Arum is doing today ranks on the list of the riskiest things that he has ever done. It is dangerous, and foolish, and completely necessary because if Arum does not get to touch his knight again very soon he feels as if he is going to catch fire and burn up to a husk.
Damien has been gone for more than a month now. The Citadel has him and a cadre of less skilled knights on a pointless hunt for a creature they will almost certainly fail to catch (then again, with Damien’s considerable skill he can be sure of nothing), and Arum has, bit by bit, been losing his ability to function with each day of his absence.
It’s madness, really.
His entire life, it has been just himself and the Keep, but suddenly now that Amaryllis and Damien have insinuated themselves into his life and his heart and his bed, he has become terrifyingly reliant on them. He is furious with Amaryllis about it as well, because she seems to be handling the lack of their knight with substantially more grace than Arum is.
“Hey,” she says as she strokes his arm soothingly, as she kisses the scales beside his frill. “It’s alright, Arum. I’ve just had a lot more practice, worrying about Damien while he’s gone. Of course you want him back. Missing him is nothing to be ashamed of.”
He scoffs, of course. He’s not ashamed, not of this and not of anything. What Arum is, is irritated. He is irritated with Amaryllis, for being so earnest and understanding about the whole thing (he clings to her in bed when she stays the night, and he knows she is as acutely aware of the empty space in their bed as he is). He is irritated with himself for his new and unwelcome weaknesses (like a missing limb, Damien being gone, like his mind is a fuzzy and unwelcome place). He is irritated with Damien himself (a vague mental litany, oscillating between how dare you leave and please come back). He is irritated with the knights that are so ungratefully lucky to share their time with Damien in his absence. He is irritated, he finds, with everyone and everything involved in keeping Arum away from his poet.
“Saints above, just go to him then if you’re so torn up about it,” Amaryllis says a few days later, and behind the exasperation in her tone there is a worry that rankles. The idea of it, though, of seeing Damien early- the very idea sets his heart racing, and he can tell that Amaryllis sees it in his eyes. “According to his letters he’ll be passing pretty close to the western edge of the swamp over the next day or so,” she says. “Just- go and see him before you drive me crazy right along with you.”
“I-” he scoffs. Again. “I am perfectly fine, Amaryllis. I do not need to be coddled or- I do not need to see him.”
“I know,” Amaryllis says with a sigh, and then she lifts a hand to cup his cheek. “But I know that you want to. I get it, Arum, I really do. When we started seeing each other, the first time he left to go on a longer mission, I didn’t even know that I could miss a person like that. Just- promise me if you do go see him, you’ll be careful? Last thing we would need is for one of his little traveling buddies to spot you sneaking around their camp, you know?”
Arum doesn’t even know what part of that to be most offended by, which he later suspects is intentional misdirection on the part of the herbalist, but when she affectionately pats his cheek and departs through a portal back to her hut for her next appointment, Arum can’t stop thinking about the possibility.
Can’t stop thinking about seeing Damien, holding Damien. When he tries to do some work in the greenhouse he drops an entire tray of tools at the unbidden memory of Damien’s dexterous fingers, twirling an arrow before he notches it. He snarls at the Keep when it asks if he is feeling ill, then quickly, quietly apologizes. Obviously he is in no state to work, which has begun to feel more demoralizing than infuriating.
By the time Amaryllis returns to join him for dinner, he relents, defeated, and over their meal she helps him work out the most likely spot for him to potentially intercept their knight. Arum wants to bring her along as well (he does not simply wish to trade which of his lovers he is missing, he wants to have them both, they belong in his arms-), but she shakes her head.
“Maybe you can sneak into a camp of sleeping knights without any issues, Arum, but I don’t exactly have your stealth. You go,” she says, and kisses him on the cheek. “Tell him I miss him and he’d better hurry up. Have fun,” she says with a sly grin, “and be careful.”
And Arum grumbles, and clings even more tightly to her for a long, quiet stretch before the sun goes down, but as soon as it is properly dark he nuzzles a lingering goodbye into her hair and then portals to the westernmost reach of his land.
It doesn’t take more than a few hours to find evidence of them – humans are not adept at crossing the wilderness without leaving a rather obvious trail – and then perhaps an hour more to follow that trail to its conclusion.
The knights are all sleeping in small, individual tents arranged around a central campfire which has already burned down to the dimmest embers, which is rather convenient as far as Arum is concerned. There is a knight he does not know standing watch, but Arum slips past easily with a combination of subtle camouflage and cunning, and it only takes a moment of scenting the air to find the only tent he cares about.
(Arum feels a senseless pulse of fury with the watchman; a monster with half his skill and none of his affection could slip past in the night, endangering his honeysuckle, and that possibility is utterly unacceptable-)
It is too dark for human vision inside Damien’s tent, but Arum is beyond those sorts of limitations. He can see the sleeping form of his knight easily, and he looks smaller without his armor on, looks vulnerable curled alone in a thin bedroll on the uneven ground, and Arum has the hot urge to scoop him up and simply use his emergency packet of swamp dirt to ferry the both of them back home right this instant, to put Damien back exactly where he belongs, in Arum’s bed between himself and their herbalist.
He takes a breath, putting a stopper to his more unreasonable urges, and then he slinks closer.
Damien is a trained and skillful knight, of course, and Damien is also, in a word, vocal, so the first thing Arum does when he is close enough is to very, very gently place one of his palms over Damien’s mouth, running a second hand soothingly through his hair and hissing in a shushing way as Damien’s eyes flutter open in the dark, as his body jolts underneath Arum’s own.
“Only me, honeysuckle,” Arum says in his lowest whisper, close against Damien’s ear, and the knight relaxes so instantly that Arum fears for a moment that he has somehow fallen right back to sleep. Damien lifts his hands, though, pressing his palms against Arum’s chest as if he’s checking that the lizard is actually real. “I hope you will forgive me for waking you,” Arum hisses, uncovering Damien’s mouth now that he’s sure Damien is not going to shout.
“What are you doing here?” Damien whispers, words tumbling together in his haste. “How-”
“You have been gone entirely too long, honeysuckle. I wanted-” Arum starts, but almost every way that he could end that sentence is actually too embarrassing to stand. “I wanted- you,” he settles on eventually, and Arum is close enough that he can feel the way Damien’s breathing shifts deeper.
“I… this is like a dream, Lord Arum,” Damien whispers, joy and desire balancing perfectly on his tongue as his hands drift across Arum’s shoulders. “Each night out here, each night alone, each night has been spent wanting you, wanting Rilla, wanting the both of you together, dreaming of your touch and then waking alone, and to dream your touch and then to realize that it is no dream at all-”
Arum purrs low, Damien’s words working their usual obscene magic on his body, making his own heart race, and he has missed this, he has missed this foolish little creature so absurdly much. He flicks his tongue out to run up the delicious column of Damien’s throat, his hands in Damien’s hair, on his shoulders, pulling the bedroll down. “No dream, honeysuckle,” he breathes. “I… I thought that perhaps you could do with a reminder of what is waiting for you at home, when you complete your little errand out here.” He scrapes his teeth gently back down Damien’s neck, over his shoulder. “I thought I should give you a taste of what you have surely been missing, while I have this chance, while you were close enough to reach.”
“A taste,” Damien repeats breathlessly. “Oh Saints, oh Saints I have been dreaming of a taste nearly every night, my lily-”
“Then allow me to indulge you,” Arum says softly, his hands working quickly and efficiently to pull away the fabric of blankets, the fabric of clothing which separate their bodies, baring Damien's skin and his own scales in the safety of the dark. “Though, you must promise me that you will try to keep control of that tongue of yours as you take that taste. I believe this is what one might call a tryst, honeysuckle, and I do not think that either of us would appreciate interruption by any particularly sharp-eared cohorts of yours.”
Damien’s eyes widen, and Arum suspects that the knight is only now remembering his surroundings in earnest, as surprised as he is with this nighttime visit.
“O-of course,” he pants, and Arum grins in the dark before he slithers his body down.
“Good,” he hisses. “I think, however, that I will take my taste before I give you yours.”
Predictably, Damien makes a soft noise when one of Arum’s hands presses down on his hip and his tongue flicks a tickling line down his stomach, but Damien slaps a hand over his own mouth just in time to muffle the gasp he gives as another of Arum’s hands impatiently finds his hardening cock. He gives Damien a few slow, soft strokes to start, drinking in the way that he trembles and jerks his hips up towards Arum’s touch. This- this is how Damien should be, reveling in joy and touch, utterly spoiled by the caresses of his lovers, appreciated and adored.
Arum moves his hand faster, purring low and entirely out of his own control, and he watches Damien near-silently writhe beneath him.
Damien’s heartbeat- Damien’s heat-
He still and forever fills Arum with an urgent, desperate sort of hunger.
Arum loosens his grip, wrapping his thumb and two fingers around the base of Damien’s cock so that when he slips his tongue out he can twine it around the rest of his length. Damien muffles the noises he can’t help but make, the joyous-overwhelmed gasp that Arum is gleefully familiar with by now, and Arum chuckles, low enough not to be heard but just enough that he knows Damien will feel it.
As his tongue works, twisting and squeezing and flicking, his free hands are quietly busy as well, uncorking the small vial of oil he had the foresight to bring and slicking his fingers (on one of the hands he keeps with claws blunted and softened, just for this, just for giving pleasure to his fragile humans), before he slips them teasingly up the inside of Damien’s thighs.
“Arum,” Damien whispers through his fingers, and his other hand reaches clumsily down through the darkness until he can caress Arum’s face, until he can run his palm up over one of Arum’s horns and grip there, not pushing or pulling Arum where he wants him, but merely scrabbling for purchase as Arum plies and pleasures him. Arum growls low and careful, squeezing his tongue around Damien’s length in a rippling wave, and then he presses a slick finger slowly up and in.
Damien holds his breath rather than whine, and Arum pauses, waits for Damien to relax around him and catch his breath before he moves his hand again. He unwinds his tongue from around Damien’s cock, letting the hand around its base resume its previous determined stroke as he lifts himself to better watch Damien’s reactions as he slowly twists his finger, slowly pumps it in and out.
Careful, careful. Arum is… particularly careful, this night. Particularly attentive, particularly focused. It has been too long since he has been allowed this, and he wants to indulge himself- but more than that, Arum wants very dearly to indulge Damien. To give the poet as much satisfaction as possible, to pleasure him as thoroughly as he is able. He moves his fingers with care, taking his time, treating the poet to the kinds of touches Arum knows he will most enjoy and ensuring that he is more than ready, that he is nearly coming apart with desire before Arum allows a second finger to join the first.
Damien is painfully beautiful. Shatteringly beautiful, like this. Alight from the inside out with rapturous joy, with his strange soft hair falling over his forehead, with his strong, lean musculature tensing and his entire body near-glowing with heat. Arum feels lucky, feels greedy, feels like all his foolishness and yearning in the last few weeks were entirely justified for the sake of this gorgeous, loving creature coming apart beneath him now.
Arum has a hand in Damien’s hair, another carefully circling his nipple with a claw, a third working his cock and the fourth plying him open, every touch focused and just barely skirting the edge of teasing, and only when Damien can barely keep from letting his tiny, torturous noises grow beyond his control, only when he scrabbles his hands desperately on Arum’s sides, clutching and pulling and whispering please please please, only then does Arum oblige him with a third finger.
“If only you could see yourself, honeysuckle,” he murmurs against Damien’s ear, and Damien pants hard and presses his face into Arum’s neck, burying a quiet whine in Arum’s frill. “Oh, the poetry you could compose, if you could see the way you come undone-”
“If I c-could only see you,” Damien mutters in response, his hands clutching tight to Arum’s back as he tries to press himself down harder onto Arum’s fingers, and his voice wavers almost too high when he continues, “a thousand times curse the darkness for keeping your beauty from me tonight, for keeping me from drinking in every single detail of this impossible encounter, for hiding your eyes from me-”
“Shhhhhh,” Arum warns gently, then flicks his tongue quick over Damien’s lips. “I know, dearest creature. When you return home, you may take every single detail from me, you may take me in plain sunlight if you so desire, and you may tell me every single comparison to my eyes and scales and claws you plan to weave into your works, and I even promise not to complain because I will be too spoiled to have you safe and home in my arms again.” Arum pauses long enough to press his mouth against Damien’s, only an almost-kiss until Damien kisses back, until he gasps lightly and dances the tip of his tongue along the sharp edges of Arum’s teeth. “But for now we must be careful, honeysuckle, and quiet.”
Damien nods, panting against Arum’s mouth, and when he whispers, “Sorry,” it comes out nearly soundless.
“No apologies.” Arum nips at Damien’s lip, playful. “I would make you scream for me, honeysuckle, if I could. You know that I would.”
“I know,” Damien whispers, and Arum can feel the pleased heat in his cheeks so he nuzzles against them.
Arum’s hands slow during that exchange, but he still pleasures his poet as they speak their hushed words, and now he twists his fingers inside Damien, watches and feels him squirm underneath him. “So tempting…” he murmurs. “So delicious you look…”
“Please,” Damien hisses, writhing, trying to press the fingers deeper, trying to press his cock into Arum’s hand more effectively. “Please, my lily, I feel as if you are taking me apart- the most blissful torture but torture nonetheless, please, please-”
“You know as well, honeysuckle,” Arum growls, low and slow, “that I can never deny you anything, especially not when you ask so prettily.”
He keeps his grip on Damien’s cock as he slips his fingers away, as he properly slicks the lower of his own two cocks and then lifts Damien’s legs until the angle is just right, until he can line himself up and press forward.
Damien quietly keens as Arum slowly, slowly fills him, heat coiling low in his stomach at how easily the poet takes him, at how eagerly he presses his hips up to meet Arum’s first thrust. He pauses there for a moment, ensuring that Damien is ready, waiting for Damien to give a breathless eager whine before he starts to fuck him in earnest.
He wraps his hand around Damien’s throat. He does not squeeze- he only holds him like that, another layer to the way he is pinning Damien against the ground, feeling Damien’s heart thudding against his fingertips, feeling the vibration of all the tiny noises Damien is holding in as Arum fucks him slow and thorough. One hand tangling in the bedroll beneath him, one hand clutching Arum’s shoulder for purchase, Damien bites his lip hard and doesn’t even seem to notice that his helpless whines are growing lewder and louder with each thrust, and Arum’s heart feels hot with affection but clearly they cannot risk-
“Hush, shhhhh little honeysuckle,” Arum hisses low, pressing a hand over Damien’s mouth gently but firmly to muffle the noise, and Damien rolls his entire body up into Arum, shivering, and Arum blinks in surprise because- he is quite familiar with that reaction from his poet.
“Arum,” Damien gasps into his palm, and Arum feels the vibration of it more than he actually hears the word.
“You… you enjoy that, honeysuckle?” Arum whispers, both teasing and pleased all at once as he rocks fervently, steadily into Damien, holding Damien’s noises carefully back. “You enjoy that I must keep you quiet? You know that I adore every single skill of your tongue, of course, and it pains me that I cannot bask in your noises. I have missed them, missed pulling such sweet song from your lips.” His own lips he keeps close against Damien’s ear, and he flicks his tongue over the seashell curve of it as he pauses to hiss. “Of course, in my greed for you I never paused to consider- do you enjoy being denied, honeysuckle?”
Damien squeezes his eyes shut, panting hard, and nods so slightly that Arum would not have noticed it if he couldn’t feel it through his hand upon him.
“Ahh,” Arum hisses, slips a hand into Damien’s hair, cupping the back of his head and licking up his neck. “You delightful creature… I will indulge you in anything you desire, honeysuckle. I will indulge you even in denial, if it pleases you-”
Damien whispers against his palm, a near-silent litany that Arum takes a long moment to recognize as a repeated murmur, echoing love love love love into his scales, and then Arum has to focus beyond the unceasing rhythm of his hips on burying the helpless growl he wants to make in response.
Damien taps Arum’s side, a small signal but one that Arum quickly responds to, slowing his thrusts and lifting his hand away from his mouth immediately.
“Arum,” Damien breathes, and then bites his lip for a moment, humming low and clinging tighter. “I- I want…”
He trails off entirely and Arum slows further, more rocking them together than thrusting anymore. He scrapes his claws through Damien’s hair again, flicking his tongue out to tease Damien’s neck, then up by his ear. “Whatever you desire,” he says again, low and sure and hungry. Anything Damien wants he would give, anything to make his honeysuckle happy, to keep himself bright and beloved in the poet’s memory, Arum would do anything. “I will give you whatever you desire, if you only ask-”
“Mark me,” Damien chokes, half-swallowing the words, and even in this darkness Arum can see his face darken further, can feel even more heat rushing to fill his cheeks. “I want you to- to mark me.”
Arum blinks, his fingers still caught in the softness of the poet’s hair, his movements still slow and careful. “Honeysuckle?”
“I still feel within a dream, my lily,” Damien murmurs, his own hands caressing up and down Arum’s back. “I fear I will wake and I will be convinced that I imagined you in the depth of my homesickness, my heartsickness. I want- I want proof I can carry with me. I want your teeth upon me,” he says, and Arum’s breath catches sharp. “I want to feel you, I want to feel you still tomorrow. I want the echoes of your touch upon me when you are gone, I want to feel this,” he rocks his hips, meeting Arum’s movements, and Arum has to clench his teeth to keep from growling his overwhelmed pleasure, “I want to feel you for as long as I am able. If you- If you put your teeth to my shoulder, if you bite me there, only I will know-”
“Honeysuckle,” Arum repeats, a shiver running through his body from his horns to his tail.
“It will be hidden by my armor, but I will know,” Damien whispers, and presses his lips against Arum’s neck. “If you leave a mark. It will be proof to remind me, to remind me that you love me, that you gave this pleasure to me, that you wanted me enough to claim me-”
Arum can’t help the way his body responds to that, thrusting deeper into Damien’s heat with a low, controlled purr. “I want you always, Damien,” he murmurs, and then he drags his teeth lightly, so lightly over the skin of Damien’s shoulder. Damien gasps, clasps a hand over his own mouth again as Arum’s teeth tease at his collarbone, as the monster rolls his hips with more purpose. “I want you enough that it makes me foolish, makes me take ridiculous risks, makes me come for you like this, like a thief in the night-”
“A thief,” Damien hisses through his fingers, and then his voice takes on a familiar, lilting, sing-song cadence, though he keeps his volume careful-low. “O come you now to thieve my heart, you beast of fae-wild night?”
Unfair tactics, Arum thinks as his body shudders at Damien’s voice, and then he slips a hand down between their bodies so he can wrap it around Damien’s cock again, stroking in careful time to his thrusts, making Damien’s breath come as ragged as his own between his rhythmic words.
“All craft and guile undone, in vain, your questing overdue,” he gasps. “Within your garden blooms my heart, ‘neath silver stars alight, an off’ring free, my fruit and tree, my monstrous love, for you-”
Arum clenches his teeth, hisses through them, and then he buries his unoccupied hands in Damien’s hair, tilting his head to the side so he can better lick and nip at his throat, so he can drag his teeth with careful promise over the crook of Damien’s neck, over his bare, strong shoulder. “That- clever- tongue- of yours,” he grits out between helpless thrusts, “will be the death of me.” He lets his hands roam as he nuzzles Damien’s throat, as the poet throws his head back and bites his lip to keep the noises in.
“Please,” Damien whispers, reaching out in the darkness, and Arum has no choice but to reach back, tangling their fingers together as Damien rolls his hips, pushing Arum deeper. “My lily, my lily, please-”
Arum growls, burying his face in the crook of Damien’s neck and panting there as Damien provokes him to move faster. “Honeysuckle,” he purrs, “you know I can deny you nothing.”
“Your teeth, Lord Arum.” Damien clings, writhes, tries to press Arum’s snout towards his shoulder. “Please, please-”
“Shhhhh,” Arum soothes, pressing his hand over Damien’s mouth again, gently. He knows the poet too well to do anything else. “Patience, my honeysuckle,” he says, soft with his mouth against Damien’s collarbone. He adjusts his grip, lifting Damien’s hips so he can more easily speed his movements. Arum loosens the careful control he’s been keeping on his pace, reveling in the tiny choked-off noises Damien gasps into his hand as he fucks him harder, fucks him more urgently.
He can feel Damien’s lips moving against his palm, can hear the barest edge of his pleas and quiet cries, but he keeps his teeth light and teasing on Damien’s skin, delays that gratification to instead focus on drawing out every bit of pleasure he can with his thrusts, with his hand around Damien’s cock. Delays, until he can feel Damien trembling beneath and around him, until he can feel Damien start to come apart, overwhelmed tears pooling at the corners of his eyes as they press closed in the darkness.
Then, Arum bites down.
Careful, even in this- his teeth are less sharp than his claws but still he has no wish to draw blood, he only means to give the poet what he asks for, clamping his jaws down over his shoulder with just enough pressure to bruise. The hand he has pressed over Damien’s mouth only barely manages to muffle his cry of mingling pleasure and pain, and it is enough, it is just enough-
Damien comes with a gasp, and Arum holds him, holds him, slows and deepens his thrusts as Damien squeezes around him and spills hot over Arum’s hand and both of their stomachs, and that is just enough as well, the victory of bringing his honeysuckle to the heights of pleasure, and Arum pulls his teeth away from Damien’s delicate skin so that when he finds his own release he can clench them together without worry as he rolls his hips helplessly and comes inside his poet, comes onto his stomach with a muffled hiss.
After a long, panting moment Damien draws on some reserve of strength that baffles Arum and lifts his head, kissing along the line of Arum’s mouth with unselfconscious adoration, and Arum nuzzles back in kind, buffeting their foreheads together and purring his satisfaction as he pulls his hips back slowly, slipping from his lover before they grow uncomfortable.
Arum fishes out a cloth from his cast-aside cloak, cleaning the both of them off with gentle attention and then resettling the blankets around them, curling close and soft and satisfied around his poet.
“You do not know how viciously I wish to carry you off home with me right this instant, honeysuckle,” Arum sighs into Damien’s neck, clinging tight to his warm, pliant body as both of their heartbeats slow. “How terribly I want to spirit you away and keep you in my clutches, to bring you to where you belong, to kidnap you back to the Keep and drop you triumphantly into Amaryllis’ arms…”
“I imagine that you desire it precisely as desperately as I do, my love,” Damien whispers, nuzzling Arum’s cheek with his own, exhaling deeply. He lifts a hand, then, and brushes it over the vivid purpling arc on his shoulder with a distinct look of pleasure, of satisfaction.
Arum feels, just a little, as if his heart is trying to climb up his windpipe.
“Damien,” he whispers, and then he leans down to lick his tongue over the mark, feather-light and soothing. “Perhaps… perhaps I shouldn’t have-”
“Thank you,” Damien interrupts, and then he kisses the corner of Arum’s mouth and comes away smiling. “Not even my unsteady mind could ignore such bold, lingering proof of your affection.”
Arum swallows roughly, then flicks his tongue up Damien’s cheek with fond affection. “Hate having to miss you, honeysuckle,” he admits in a whisper, clinging as if he wishes to pull Damien into himself, as if they could possibly be any closer. “Love you too fiercely to be without you.”
Damien makes a small, pained noise, cupping Arum’s face in his hands and kissing him again, kissing him soft, sweet, like petals and rain. “Oh, my lovely lily,” he says, and Arum can hear the tears he his trying not to shed. “I love you so much. So much that it breaks my heart to be without you, without Rilla…”
“She asked that I pass along that she wishes for you to hasten your quest and hurry home,” Arum mutters, “as, of course, do I.”
Damien sighs. “I know. I intend to be home as soon as I am able, as soon as the Saints allow.”
Arum shifts, and Damien- Damien makes another small noise, clinging tightly, and Arum hears his heart stutter fast for a moment.
He blinks, and drapes himself back over the entirety of Damien’s body indulgently. “Not going anywhere just yet, honeysuckle.”
“I… I am perfectly aware that I cannot keep you here forever, my lily.”
Arum growls lightly. “Nnnno,” he admits, “not forever, not that, of course. But I can stay a little longer, yet.” He buffets his cheek against Damien’s, nuzzling closer, closer. “I can stay until you are asleep again, at least. Until you are dreaming, until I can leave you safe in slumber.”
Damien kisses him, kisses him, cups Arum’s face in his hands, kisses him. “Soon, soon I shall return to the both of you, with new tales and triumph. Soon shall we have our homecoming, earned and exultant, and then I will give to the both of you every single word I have had to carry with me during our separation, every kiss I have wished to press to your lips, every pleasure I have dreamed of spoiling you with… soon, my lily. Soon.”
Damien’s singsong cadence is almost too soothing, and Arum feels as if he could outright melt into Damien’s arms. He sighs, flicks his tongue out to tickle Damien’s jaw, drifts his claws softly up and down Damien’s arms. “It will not be soon enough, honeysuckle. I am an impatient creature. But for you…” his words falter, and he brushes some errant curls away from Damien’s brow. “For you, I will wait.” He pauses. “Impatiently, of course.”
“With an abundance of complaints,” Damien says with a soft laugh, and kisses Arum’s nose.
“Needless to say,” Arum growls, and then he gives a wry sort of smile. “But I have taken enough rest from you already, my poet. No more teasing, now. Return to sleep. I will hold you until you are safe in slumber, and when morning comes…” he drifts his claws careful over the purpling arc on Damien’s skin, “you can carry me with you, until you can return to us in fact and not just in dream and memory.”
Damien purses his lips, expression gone yearning and wild for a brief moment before he nods, lifting one of Arum’s hands to kiss his knuckles, pressing them against his cheek with a sigh. “I love you so dearly, my Arum,” he murmurs.
In this moment, quiet and dark, Arum even feels like he might deserve that.
“I love you, Damien,” he answers, voice rough. “Now sleep, little honeysuckle, and I will watch over you.”
After a few more kisses, (three or four, nine or ten, impossible to say because neither of them count), Damien drifts, his breaths evening out, his heart beating slow and gentle, and Arum holds him close and safe.
And with the poet asleep, no one has to know exactly how long it takes before Arum can bear to tear himself away.
#*shrugs loudly and disappears into the mist*#elle's fanfic#the penumbra podcast#second citadel#rad bouquet#lizard kissin' tuesday#lord arum#sir damien#lak;djfsdf this is my 50th fic on ao3 alkdjfa;ldkjf
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Show Notes 104 "Claudia"
Knock, Knock, Agents.
At long last, Claudia has joined the Warehouse!
To listen to this weeks episode, click here or click play on the embedded player below.
Let’s kick things off! We started out this week with shout outs to our Patreon supporters. You could get a shout out too, if you support us on Patreon. Check out our Patreon here. (How many times can I type out Patreon before you click on our Patreon link? …Patreon)
P.S. We’re considering adding sending you actual fudge as a reward tier! Let us know in the comments if you’d be interested in that!
We also talk about seeing young Artie. Miranda questioned the darkness and bushiness of Saul’s eyebrows in the flashback scenes and thought they were, perhaps, a bit overdone. Turns out nothing could be further from the truth!
Check out those brows on young Saul Rubinek!!!!
I haven’t read any fanfic about the moment of glorious off-screen storytelling that was The Monkey Mission, so I can’t recommend any. But if anybody knows any good fanfic on the subject matter, I’m happy to update this post so I can link to it. Because, honestly, it’s one of the funniest moments of the show so far.
Anyway, on to the truly important stuff:
CLAUDIA IS HERE!
For those tracking our color theory of orange vs. purple, we did mention that there was a subversion in that, for the first time, something that seemed dangerous (Claudia’s handcuffs) glowed purple instead of orange, and it made us question whether or not Claudia was a “bad guy.” Spoiler: She’s not a bad guy.
Here’s a screengrab of that moment.
Miranda (and Eddie McClintock) gave us an amazing Actor’s Spotlight on Allison Scagliotti. She mentioned that she first saw Scagliotti as the character of Mindy Crenshaw on the Nickelodeon series, Drake & Josh. (For listeners and readers in countries outside of the United States, we discussed the enduring influence of Nickelodeon on mine and Miranda’s childhoods in the show notes for 103 “Magnetism”).
Here’s a younger Scagliotti as Mindy:
Miranda mentioned getting the proper pronunciation of Scagliotti’s name from Episode 21 of the podcast Let’s Talk About Me, Baby. That’s also where she learned that one of Scagliotti’s many artistic endeavors was time in the band Nice Enough People. She noted that Scagliotti had a starring role in the show, Stitchers and also that her work as guest starring roles in various TV shows goes under appreciated. We talked about the show Person of Interest in the show notes for our Surprise Interview with Eddie McClintock. Remember? That guy who is such a deep, intensely dark character that he even makes the lighting dark? You know, this guy:
Scagliotti guest stars on the 20th Episode of Season 2 of the show, titled “In Extremis” and does a really remarkable job. Here’s a screengrab of her in that role.
In the episode, Miranda and I also talk about how we were the exact same age as Allison Scagliotti when the episode aired. Here’s a pick of Miranda and I at that age making goofy faces for reasons neither of us remembers.
Moving on a bit, we talked about how cool the durational spectrometer was!!!!! For more information on real life spectrometers and what they’re used for, click here.
In that same scene, we learn that Pete’s sister is deaf, and that’s why Pete knows how to read lips. If you’re looking to learn how to lip read, here’s a website devoted to it.
We also talked a lot about the discussion of mental health in this episode. Miranda mentioned that young women in the Victorian era were often institutionalized for things that were incredibly absurd. She shared this list of actual reasons that women were institutionalized in the 19th century on Twitter.
Miranda got this list from here.
We’ve also mentioned in these show notes, several times, the Audible original podcast Stephen Fry’s Victorian Secrets. The podcast continues to be relevant to our own, as Episode 9 of the podcast focuses on the history of Victorian asylums.
We also wanted to be sure to mention that while we don’t know the statistics of how many people are voluntarily vs. involuntarily committed to mental hospitals, we do know that voluntarily committing yourself is a massive sign of personal strength and nothing to be ashamed of. Content warning for suicidal ideation, but here is a powerful first person account of a person who chose to check themselves into a psychiatric hospital that is well worth the read. Around the same time, we also discussed the well-documented fact that people who live with mental illness are much more likely to be the victims of crime than they are to commit crimes.
Miranda also talked about how Claudia’s bloody nose is similar to the one Willow from Buffy the Vampire Slayer used to get from using too much magic.
She also theorized that this occurs in science fiction when a character becomes physically involved with a force beyond their control.
Our awesome guest, Dr. Kathleen Crowther—who is also a fan of Warehouse 13, gave us some amazing information on Rheticus. She mentioned that he wrote poetry and had read one of his about the Beer of Breslau. You can find that poem and its translation here. She also said that his poetry could get quite racy and was based on or inspired by Ovid’s Art of Love. She also mentioned that Rheticus was a student of Nicolaus Copernicus and that they both believed in a heliocentric rather than geocentric model of the solar system. Revolutionary stuff! Get it? REVOLUTION-ary!?!?!?
Anyway, here’s some more information about Rheticus.
Miranda also gave a shout out to the person in charge of hair and makeup for this episode. That person is actually two people. Susan Exton-Stranks was in charge of hair and Marie Nardella was in charge of makeup. They both did an excellent job!
We also talked about how powerful it was that Drew Z. Greenberg—the focus of our Writer’s Appreciation Corner for the week—worked a beautiful story of same-sex love into the story which featured a real queer man from history (Rheticus) at a time when gay marriage wasn’t even legal in the United States yet! He talked a bit about his commitment to queer representation here.
Dr. Crowther also mentioned that the picture used to signify Rheticus in the episode was actually a picture of his contemporary Philip Melanchthon., who was one of Rheticus’ mentors and teachers at the University of Wittenberg. Also, related to his representation of a queer man of history, Crowther told us that one of his friends and, likely, lovers was Heinrich Zell, a German (Prussian?) painter and cartographer.
Then we talked about the heartbreaking scene where Claudia talks about her brother staying up to read her Maria Looney on the Red Planet. This is especially sweet, not just for the reasons we talked about in the podcast, but also because further research on the subject revealed that the Maria Looney book series was a spinoff of the Matthew Looney series which focused on Maria’s brother. So the strong brother-sister connection was present down to the subtext and research. It’s just so sweet.
We also talked about how we finally got to see Artie’s nice car, which friend of the show, @ElZilcho on Twitter pointed out was “Jaguar XK150” and adds that “The XK150 ran for four years, 1957-61” and was an interesting and offbeat choice. El Zilcho also was kind enough to include that they got this information (and the picture we shared below of Artie’s car) from the Internet Movie Cars Database, which is a wonderful database that I would never have even known exists otherwise! Thanks, El Zilcho!
We also mentioned that giving Artie a nice red car was an excellent nod to Giles doing the same thing for himself in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Artie’s Car:
Giles’ car was a similar red car. It is a Red 1987 BMW 325i Convertible that Buffy affectionately calls a “little two-door tramp.”
Picture of Giles’ car for comparison:
We talked about seeing Mrs. Frederic WALK THROUGH AN ACTUAL DOOR THIS EPISODE!
Alas, alack! I was unable to find a gif of this historic moment. She probably ordered Claudia to delete all evidence of this from the internet.
We talked a bit about the show framing Ben Franklin’s lightning rod as an artifact. Learn more about Franklin’s lighting rod here.
We also talked about how Mrs. Frederic uses the word “glean,” which Pete finds weird. I, personally, didn’t find the word that strange. But what do you think? Try incorporating it into your vocabulary. Here’s the definition of “glean” from Merriam-Webster.
We also talked a little bit about how sweet and vulnerable Artie was with Claudia. He immediately goes into Dad-mode and lets his guard down with her. It’s the first time we truly see Artie showing how much he cares about other people.
Later in the episode, Miranda changed my life by helping me realize that Rheticus’ compass is A PORTKEY!
That’s all I have for this week.
Hope you gleaned what needed to be gleaned from these show notes, Agents!
#podcast 13#claudia donovan#104 claudia#wh13#pete lattimer#myka bering#ovid#art of love#beer of breslau#dr. kathleen crowther#fanfic#saul rubinek#drake and josh#drake & josh#mindy crenshaw#allison scagliotti#nice enough people#let's talk about me baby#drew z. greenberg#nickelodeon#lgbtg#lgbtqia+#queer#queer representation#steampunk#rheticus#maria looney#warehouse13#warehouse 13#cch pounder
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:star: feel free to talk abt any of your fics !! :D
Oh I wasn’t expecting one asfjfkd now I actually have to find smth to talk about (sorry thats why this took so long to answer lol). let’s seeee. I’ve been on a bit of a snmr kick lately so ill go w that. Let’s talk a little more about the familiars and enderchest!
Ask game - Directors Cut
So in snmr, or Scar No More, Ranboo, Ranboo is a witch, and they have a familiar named enderchest.
The whole reason Ender is there in the first place is bc for a while before i had been itching to add one of ranboos mc cats into a story and make her relevant. Which sounds strange yeah but bear w me. Ive said before but original plans for snmr looked way majorly different. Snmr is just a big soup of concepts that stewed in my brain before getting spat back out on paper in essence, and it has always been like that. Before i started looking at otgw, bf-u, and k&f podcast (just to name a few, there was so many) for inspo, i was looking at lostcat//pod, a-81, and iamin//eskew - all great horror podcasts btw id recommend.
Ranboo just feels so obviously horror-story coded, I wanted to give him the story he deserved and originally, snmr was going to be that story. It was going to have a far more surreal, unsettling, cosmic(? ish) horror tone where the horror is found in the setting much like the pods named above. Obviously, this idea got scrapped when i found other elements to pull more focus on, but I think I do have a scrap of when snmr was going to be more based off of the premise of lostcat//pod:
.
It is a chilly day in Autumn, and Ranboo has lost his cat.
He has not had to fight her for his favorite place on the sofa. He has not heard her meowing at inane hours of the morning. He has not had to shove her away from his dinner left unattended.
The absence of his cat pulls at his anxiety. The air is growing colder every day, and the forest along the edge of town is deep, and dark. It is no place for a house cat.
He has already done a variety of things that could possibly bring her back home, including setting out cream and the expensive soft food she likes, [...]
Enderchest is not an overly affectionate cat. She’s actually quite the asshole. She likes to scratch at his ankles and hide under beds and topple vases. But sometimes, late at night, she’d curl up on top of his chest and purr like a motor engine. Sometimes, when he came home he’d be greeted by her winding circles about his legs and her pushing her face into his hand.
She’s a good cat, despite her less than welcoming attitude. He couldn’t deny he was fond of her. She’s been the only real company he’s had since moving, and her impatient meows for food every morning had turned into a comforting sound.
Which leads him to where he is now, at the general store, printing out hastily made copies of a missing poster.
.
[keep reading under cut]
Perhaps a bit much for a cat known to be out and about most of the time anyway, but Ranboo is already worked up by the change in location and he really can’t afford this extra stress.
He shuffles, hands deep in the pockets of his thin jacket, trying to avoid the curious stare of the cashier. The only sounds are the hum of the refrigeration in the back and the steady shuck shuck shuck of the printer. He is the only other person in the store. Which, he supposes makes sense, as it’s a small town, tiny, and it’s the middle of the day on a Wednesday. Not a lot of traffic.
Eventually the printer stops its rhythm with a solid ker-chunk and a whirr. Ranboo gathers up the papers hurriedly, eager to leave the empty aisles and scrutiny of the cashier. He makes his way towards the doors, desperately trying not to make eye contact. His hand reaches for the door, his shoulder braces in anticipation of the push. Then his eyes catch on the bulletin board near the entrance. He stops.
Posters for school plays, flyers for yoga classes, and brochures for hiking trails all vie for attention on the clustered bulletin. His gaze, though, is drawn toward the paper pinned at the bottom corner. MISSING, it declares in worried all caps. The picture is of a little boy, no older than 8, he couldn’t be. Fluffy red hair, swamped in a coat too big for him, he clutches a worn plush animal to his chest. He’s grinning at whoever was taking the photo.
“You seen ‘im?”
He turns at the question. The cashier’s stood up straight now, rather than leaning against the counter.
“Oh, I--no, no, I haven’t” --his eyes flicker back to poster-- “haven’t seen him, sorry.”
The cashier grunts, cards a hand through his hair. “My mum knows his family, so I just,” he makes a wavy gesture with his hand. “like to check with people. You’re the new guy, right? In the weird house down on East and Oakwood?”
“Weird house…?” he whispers to himself. “Uh...Yes?” Ranboo answers. He doesn’t ask how the guy knows that. Small town, isn’t it? Things tend to get around, or at least that’s what he’s heard. He plays with the loose corner of one of the posters he holds in his arms, not keen on the beginnings of conversation. He edges toward the door restlessly.
“Poggers.” The cashier’s name tag, nestled between colorful pins, reads TOMMY. “So, where’d you come from, huh? And why here?”
“Uh, M-Massachusetts? Yeah, I’m taking a, uh, a gap year. From college.” He recites the story dutifully.
Tommy makes a noise of understanding. “Yeah? Why’re you here, though?”
“Oh--my uncle owned the house that I’m living in, so.” He shrugs. He looks at the door, readjusts his glasses.
“That’s the bloke who skipped town, wasn’t it?” Tommy leans forward in interest. So that’s what that man was known for?
“Um, no, no, he just died. Heh.” Ranboo desperately wants to leave. He slips a paper off the top of the stack in his arms, hands it toward Tommy the cashier. “Hey, uh, I think my cat’s gone missing, can you put this up on that bulletin? Please?” he adds.
Tommy takes the paper with a furrow in his brow. “Yeah, sure.” His eyes don’t leave the poster, studying it. For what, Ranboo doesn’t know. He appreciates the vigilance, though, if it helps him get Enderchest back sooner.
“Cool, thanks.” Ranboo says. “Uh, bye.”
He shoves the door open. It dings welcomingly as he takes his leave. He begins down the sidewalk back to his car. The leaves crunch beneath his shoes as he walks.
He’s not expecting the wind that hits him. He shouts as a poster or two is stolen off the top of the stack, slams his other hand down on the rest of the papers that still remain.
They fly down the street together, parting at a corner. One stops, blown into the path of a trash bin. The other keeps flying, buffeted by the wind. It rises into the sky, fluttering toward the dark edges of the forest that tower above the roofs of houses.
Ranboo shivers, pulls his jacket closer around him, and keeps walking. He has posters to put up.
.
.
As I’m typing this Im remembering that another source of inspiration for snmr was actually also devil town by hoorayy! which is a very good fic by itself and the reason i had those missing posters in this scrap, i think i was giving myself a route to take for when i typed more for the thing. I love when woods and nature are scary and or eldritch of some flavor, in this version of the story i was definitely gonna go for ‘there is something in the woods’/’the woods want to kill you’ type horror.
Enderchest is the remnant of the story that it was going to be, in more ways than one, and i frankly love her for it.
In addiiton to being the carryover from the lost cat plot point, she also holds up the weird not-quite-right horror i originally wanted to embody. One of my favorite tropes/memes is [area] gothic just bc i like the unsettling uncanny-valley territory of something that looks mundane and familiar turning out to be something more sinister and scary when you look at it just a little too long and a little too close. I knew from the beginning i wanted to have the cat familiar be like that. cats are already so fluid with their shape and associated w superstition it would have been more criminal not to. So, Ender was fit into the not-cat role perfectly.
(however, and i will only say this much: familiars shapes are not just limited to cats. take a wild guess what phil and technoblade’s familiars might look like ;) My vision of the familiars is v much inspired by the celtic folk tale of pucas, if you know of them, specifically the idea that no matter what shape they’re in they almost always have dark fur.)
So, yeah. I think that’s all i wanted to talk about here. It was actually quite fun i didnt realize how much i had (and wanted) to share until i was already doing it. Thank you for the ask! :D
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How Life is Strange has affected me - Who am I?
I’m Jamie and I love Life is Strange. It’s a bit complicated on how to explain how I found out about it, and what has happened since then but I’m going to try my best to fit it into this post.
I found out about Life is Strange 3 years ago in January 2015. My friend Vince recommended it to me after I played through Telltale’s The Walking Dead and The Wolf Among Us. I played the demo of it one afternoon after college. I was pretty tired and didn’t feel too great (which will come into play later). I remember liking the demo enough to buy the season pass and finishing the episode that night. I felt a connection towards Max and liked the inclusion of a rewind mechanic towards a choice based game.
Between episode one and two, I skipped class due to illness. I felt unmotivated all the time and every now and again I was getting stomach pains, so I decided to stack episodes two, three and play four whenever it drops at midnight. That was a mistake because I had no idea that it would emotionally destroy me at 5 in the morning. I had so many questions that I wanted answers to, and mainly find people to discuss the game with, so I went to Reddit.
I posted about an idea that I had for a podcast, the name and what would be an ideal number of hosts for an episode. That’s how I met Joey and the Blackwell Podcast was published on August 30th 2015. However, the following Monday was just a bad experience.
I woke up and I was in unimaginable pain. I could hardly move, and I could not keep any food in my system. I was living on water for 3 days. The Thursday was when blood was coming up.I was rushed to the hospital at 1 am and after one x-ray the on call doctor knew what it was; Crohn’s Disease.
Crohn’s is a chronic form of IBD which is mainly to do with your intestines and can cause inflammation from anywhere in your digestive system. Symptoms can be weight loss, fatigue, vomiting and stomach pain. There is no known cause for why people contract it, but I feel like stress is why I got it. 2014 fucking sucked.
(I currently live in Northern Ireland, but that wasn’t always the case. I lived in England for about 4 years with my dad’s side of the family. Every Friday morning before school, I was dropped off at my grandparent’s house to have breakfast and my Granddad would walk me to school. He is the reason why I am so passionate about video games. He introduced me to games which he played on his Xbox. After I moved I visited him twice. Once was to visit friends from my old school, and the other was for a party. I hugged him before I left for home. I still don’t know why I did. He isn’t an affectionate guy.
Flash forward to November 2013. My parents sit me down and tell me he had lung cancer. He had until August. My dad and I said as soon as I finished that year of school, I’d fly over and say my goodbyes. February came. I was sitting in the study hall, where I was called to reception. I had no idea what was going on. Then my dad walked in. His eyes were red and he hardly spoke. We got into the car and he told me what happened. My Granddad died that morning. I was in tears, I had no idea how to cope so I did the only thing I was comfortable with. Cry and keep to myself. Unfortunately that led me to getting kicked out of school because I never saw help for my classes and my grades were too low.
I met someone around that time, and I was an emotional wreck that I kind of opened my doors to them. Let’s call them Lee. Lee was a decent enough person who was funny and kind. We bonded over the next few months. I was even going to go visit them. However, they just left me 4 months later. They accused me of loving them, but I was trying not to lose someone in my life that I had considered family. They just left. It hurt and I still haven’t recovered from it. This is why I blame myself for being too stressed that year and why I think I got Crohn’s)
I spent a month in that hospital trying to get a somewhat decent life back but I was too bad for medication so I had to have surgery. I had quite a bit of my small intestine removed and a part of my large intestine. The recovery was a pain because I felt in pain from the surgery, and then you got the pressure of trying to walk, do tasks by yourself and just try and eat again. I was out within 4 days of the surgery. I don’t like thinking about the recovery process so let’s get back to Life is Strange.
I got a new computer because I wanted to do more with the podcast and play Episode 5 on it so I could try and make this a fun distraction of getting back to health. It was. I kept making the podcast and I loved every moment. We even started doing interviews and I started to get a feeling of pride in something that myself and Joey made together in such a short time.
However, the main focus was to get my health increased physically, which meant I totally neglected my mental health. Currently I am on 45mg of anti-depressants which do either one of two things for me: make me very tired or seem spaced out. This is why the episodes I’ve recorded the past year or so I’ve seemed a tad distant on interviews or episode discussions.
Today was the podcast’s interview with Ashly Burch and mental health came up. Ashly opened up about being in therapy and I expressed that no matter what happens, that you got to take life at its own pace. It made me want to write this post. I briefly talked about how I kind of relate to Chloe in a sense, and want to expand on it here.
Have there been negatives in my life? Yes. But I learn from them. I’ve had so many cancelled and delayed plans but I try my best to learn from them. It’s why I keep Life is Strange so close to my heart. It gives me a sense of strength that I never thought was possible. I don’t know what I’d be without this game. It really has made me a better person.
I have made so many friends, met so many people who worked on this amazing franchise.
This post is to people who are involved with Life is Strange and Life is Strange: Before The Storm. It’s a thank you. Thank you for making something that connected to me so deeply and gave me a reason to fight.
I know some of you know of that I have Crohn’s, but my mental health is as important as my physical.
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Ex manipulated me heavily at the end. I feel triggered, anxious, and exhausted. via /r/BPD
Ex manipulated me heavily at the end. I feel triggered, anxious, and exhausted.
This post is likely going to be very, very long. I may add a TLDR later but right now my brain is too zapped too figure out a shortened way to say all of this. I’m also using a throwaway account.
My ex and I (both female) were together for almost two years when I ultimately ended things just under a week ago. In the beginning she seemed wonderful and great, and like she was motivated and driven and only wanted the best for me. But slowly some red flags started popping up that I should have paid more attention to. And some things I am - just recently - discovering were lies and/or manipulation tactics she used that didn’t even come across as red flags to begin with.
Let me say this - she picked the wrong girl. I do not bend for people easily. I have worked intensely on my BPD and my mental state and becoming a better person/version of myself in spite of it, but I am not weak and controllable.
The days leading up to the breakup, the red flags became far more apparent than they ever had. She said that she has no one else aside from me, and if we ever broke up, she would end her life. She isolated herself by becoming angry and hostile with everyone. I’d try to help her make friends but it was fruitless so the only friends she ever saw were my friends, which drove me crazy because it - at times - impeded on my ability to hang out with people I may not get to see often.
This aspect is a longer instance so bare with me. We had an unfortunate issue happen when isolation occurred and had to move from our apartment quickly. She knew I was in a bad mental state and agreed that it would be better if I left for my uncles house to be safe and avoid inpatient. My best friend H was more than happy to take my place in the packing situation so that my ex wouldn’t be alone and it would move at the same pace. I asked my ex repeatedly if she was okay with my going and my friend staying and she kept saying it was fine, she promised it was fine, not to worry. Well all of that was a lie and she used it against me in a fight saying that I was selfish and left her. When I said she could have told me no she tried to make it my fault that she cannot say no, despite me not having a track record of getting upset when someone says no to something (I’m actually almost comically chill about crap). She also insinuated that H did not pack enough to her standards and she couldn’t figure out why H even showed up if she wasn’t going to help. A different friend - A - told me he felt my ex was being insanely ungrateful. Then H, a person I trust and has no reason to lie to me for any reason, told me (unprompted) that she felt really annoyed packing with my ex because she wouldn’t do anything and was on her phone almost the whole time or just handed her things to pack. She was angry that my ex accused her of being like that, especially since my ex started trying to put stipulations on my friendship with H that were already pissing us both off (for a very petty reason, she did not want H in the house or in the car, and didn’t want to be at my birthday party coming up if H was invited - H has taken me to inpatient more than anyone, visited and called me in inpatient every time, and has always been a shoulder I could count on, so not inviting her was out of the question). There are tons of examples I can give of just how unreasonable she could truly be.
Anyway, aside from just that, ex and I had loads of problems. I know her “biggest” problem with me was that I’m not affectionate enough. I told her we should write a list of relationship expectations down and put a month timeframe on it, so we did. At the end of that month, if it still didn’t feel right, we’d break up.
The next two days I just didn’t feel right about the whole situation. I knew I cared for her but I wasn’t in love with her and I just felt trapped and suffocated. I just wanted out. She knew I was acting off so I finally told her that I just couldn’t see us being happy going forward and that I needed to be done. She became immediately hostile and accused me of leading her on - the exact thing I was trying not to do - and said I lied about so many things. Like “how could you pretend to care about me and even say we are going to be friends?!” stuff. I tried to stay calm and composed and only say what I felt was needed so as not to push her any further. She decided to go for a drive which I didn’t think much of because she does like to drive when upset.
I called my friend A to let him know what happened and amidst the call my ex texts me a picture of a knife that she has in her car. She won’t tell me where she is and won’t promise me she won’t hurt herself so I had no choice but to call the cops which I knew would make her mad but that’s all I could do. A gets off the phone with me and calls her and is actually able to keep her talking and calm her down enough to convince her to come home. She sends me some heated texts and then comes back into the house. She stays up until about 3-4 am watching tv so I finally feel calm and okay enough to go to bed.
The next day, things are calm but I realize she didn’t put the knife back and it isn’t in her car. I go ask her to give it to me. She yells a bit but finally relents and gives it to me and indicates that “something else is in progress” but won’t tell me what. Again, I have no choice but to call the cops. I do feel manipulated but I don’t take those threats with a grain of salt - ever. The cops and medics show up but they can’t do much so they just say to call if anything else happens. I’m too scared to leave the house at this point so a family friend brings me cat food and pizza so I don’t have to run any errands. For most of the day, she spends that day isolated in her room. Later that night, though, she sends me TikToks on how people with my mental illnesses are able to work with people with her mental illnesses. It annoys me but I mostly ignore it because telling her “we are never ever ever getting back together” isn’t a good idea at the time. I also reach out to her mom and sister (who she has cut off) because I cannot handle the situation alone anymore and they are rightfully worried as crap.
The next day I’m in my room watching a show and I keep hearing a banging noise. The washing machine is backed up against the room she is in so I think maybe it’s loud and she doesn’t realize what it is and is trying to sleep. I ask her about it and her fist is clenched against the wall and she won’t tell me why she is doing it. Fun fact: I get triggered when people are angry and slamming things and taking their hostility out physically. She knows this, but decides to spend most of the day punching the walls. I end up listening to a podcast with headphones on and playing animal crossing to drown it out for a bit. A short while after taking them off, I head her sharpening a knife in the kitchen and go down and take it from her as she’s about to go back into the room. I ask her what her plan was, no answer.. so I have to call the cops again.
I spend a long time talking to her mom and sister that night. They advise me that she tends to try to make people hurt when she is hurting and inform me of some of the lies she may have told. They also apologize to me for her manipulating me. I tell them I’m considering spending the night elsewhere because I can’t keep going and they actually back me on it, saying I need time for myself too.
H comes to get me. The very second I get to her house, ex texts me the pills she is going to take and a will. I hardly respond before her sister tries to call me, I tell them I have to go and call the cops, and they get a call from ex. I told them not to let ex know I am talking to the cops and just try to convince her to open the door for them when they get there so they don’t have to go through the garage.
They end up getting her to the hospital, and I believe she is in inpatient now. She keeps telling her mom and sister I don’t care about her, and her sister even told her I’m just trying to give her space and won’t be calling her but she can call me. Hell, I even dropped clothes off at the ER for her last night because I know how much inpatient donated clothes can suck.
I should be able to finally breathe today but I just feel so exhausted and drained and triggered. My anxiety has peaked, causing issues with my OCD as well. I am lucky I have tremendous friends.. I don’t want my ex to suffer but she needs to realize that she needs helps and needs to accept it because I’m not the first relationship she has tried too hard to gain a semblance of control over, leading to a demise. I’m not sure what I want by posting this, but maybe encouragement? I luckily do not feel suicidal, just lost.
We will not be getting back together - so no worries there. Honestly idk if I can ever be her friend again after this
Submitted September 18, 2020 at 09:03AM by highprincess_diehigh
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