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#you do not need to use links as liberally as I did I just like to link a lot
emdotcom · 4 months
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I was tagged by @glass-clown , thanks a bunch-a!
Last song you listened to: ヘドバンギャー!!/Headbangeeeeerrrrr!!!!!!! by Babymetal ^^ ~
Currently reading: The tutorials for Post-Shift 2. Here's a copypasta that has One page of the night 6 tutorial.
Currently watching: Hmmm mostly Astral Spiff's vods (I'm working through all of Lethal Comoany, currently) video essays? The last of which was "Why Did We Forget Baldi's Basics?" By Minaxa
Currently obsessed with: Modded Lethal Company, my friends' very cool creature collector idea, still Bendy & the Ink Machine, some Sonic (specifically Sega Genesis & some Dreamcast era stuff)...
I will tag (in no particular order): @artnerd1123 @bleudinosaur @sapphireclaw @lightkrets312 @fvaleraye @carnation-damnation @captainshyguy @footsteps-on-the-dance-floor , & anyone else is free to hop on! No pressure, have fun !
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qqueenofhades · 3 months
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I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to argue with people about the worthlessness of voting third party. They just keep insisting that the influence is worth it, and that I was a coward for daring to suggest that we don't HAVE any other options than Democratic. I even cited how voting third party likely played a part in Al Gore losing ffs.
There's no "likely" about it, Ralph Nader DID directly cost Gore the election. He ran explicitly on the same "both parties are the same, so leftists/liberals should vote for me instead" rhetoric that we are still seeing among the Online Left, and it was successful: he got, for example, over 97,000 votes in Florida. Bush won Florida (and thus the presidency) by a miniscule 537 votes, after the fuckery of Bush v. Gore and SCOTUS ordering the recount stopped in Bush's favor. If the tiniest percentage of those Nader voters had gone for Gore, we would have had a president who was arguing in favor of tackling climate change in the year 2000. We would have been incredibly ahead of the curve. We would, in all likelihood, have a president who took the CIA's warnings of an impending al-Qaeda attack in the US seriously. We would not have had the disastrous Afghanistan and Iraq invasions and the "War on Terror," the rampant Islamophobia, "No Child Left Behind," the 2008 economic crash, and everything else that Dubya and his band of bloodthirsty neocons inflicted on us in the early aughties. Look, I try not to look back too much, but having Gore instead of Bush as president would have reshaped the entire timeline we're living in to such an unfathomably better degree that every moron thinking of voting third party For The Protest should be sat down and forced to learn this history intimately. Of course, they already saw it happen in real time in 2016, but they didn't care about that either.
The good news is: there are plenty of persuadable voters out there, and you can do work to reach them and convince them to vote for Democrats! They're just not online, because all the Online Leftists are terminally brain-poisoned against voting anyway and trying to argue with them is generally a waste of time. Instead, what you should do is take a gander at the following links:
This is the one-stop shop page for volunteering to get Democrats elected. You can do in-person and remote work, there are tons of different ways to get involved (i.e. you don't have to go directly out and knock doors if that's not something you're comfortable with), and your local Democratic party will welcome the volunteer help. There is also a page for finding your state party website:
I went there, clicked on my state, opened the webpage, and there was a "Volunteer" link right in the header, with an easy and quick form to fill out to register your interest and explain the kinds of work you would be interested in doing. You can canvass directly, you can manage data on the back end, you can phone bank, you can send texts and postcards to voters who may need an extra nudge, you can otherwise work with your state party in lots of ways, and it will be so much more productive and make you feel so much better than arguing with online idiots who will never, ever change their minds. What you can do is reach out to voters in your own community, in your own state, and have conversations with people who actually ARE willing to listen, but might need a little more educating on the facts, what's at stake, the truth about this election, and the danger that Trump poses. All of this will convert into critically important Democratic votes, and you can actually put your desire to make a difference into action. So yeah. I would 100% suggest you do it this way instead. Good luck.
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How America's oligarchs lull us with the be-your-own-boss fairy tale
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/16/narrative-capitalism/#sell-job
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Capitalism is a vibes-based system. Sure, we all know about Keynes's "Animal Spirits" that see "bulls" and "bears" vying to set the market's future, but beyond that, there's just a hell of a lot of narrative.
Writing for The American Prospect, Adam M Lowenstein reviews two books that tell the histories of the stories that are used to sell American capitalism to the American people – the stories that turn workers into "temporarily embarrassed millionaires":
https://prospect.org/culture/books/2024-02-16-stories-corporations-tell-williams-waterhouse-review/
The first of these books is Taming the Octopus: The Long Battle for the Soul of the Corporation, by Kyle Edward Williams, a kind of pre-history of "woke capitalism":
https://wwnorton.com/books/9780393867237
Taming is a history of the low-water marks for Big Business's reputation in America, and how each was overcome through PR campaigns that declared a turning point in which business leaders would pursue the common good, even at the expense of their shareholders' interests.
The story starts in the 1950s, when DuPont and other massive firms had gained a well-deserved reputation as rapacious profit-generation machines that "alienated workers and pushed around small businessmen, investors, and consumers." This prompted DuPont's PR chief, Harold Brayman, to write a memo called "The Attack on Bigness," where he set out a plan to sell America on a new cuddly image for corporate giants.
For Brayman, the problem was that corporate execs were too shy about telling their social inferiors about all the good that businesses did for them: "The businessman is normally reluctant to talk out loud. He frequently shuns the spotlight and is content with plugging his wares, not himself."
This was the starting gun for a charm offensive by American big business that included IBM president Thomas Watson Jr ("I think there is a world market for about five computers") going on a speaking tour organized by McKinsey & Co, where he told audiences that his company's billion dollar annual profits had convinced it to assume "responsibilities for the broader public welfare."
This set the template for a nationwide mania of "business statesmanship" that Fortune celebrated with an editorial announcing "a great transformation, of which the world as a whole is as yet unaware" that put the "profit motive…on its last leg."
Fortune then spent the next seventy years recycling this announcement, every time the tide went out on business's popularity. In 2019, Fortune platformed IBM president Ginni Rometty for an announcement that the company was orienting its priorities to the public good: "It’s a question of whether society trusts you or not. We need society to accept what it is that we do."
The occasion for Rometty's quote was a special package on the Trump tax-cuts, a trillion-dollar gift to American big business, which lobbyists for the Business Roundtable celebrated with an announcement that American capitalism would now serve "stakeholders" (not just shareholders). Fortune celebrated this "change" as "fundamental and profound."
Fast forward five years and corporate leaders are still telling stories, this time about "stakeholder capitalism" and "ESG" – the dread "woke capitalism" that has right-wing swivel-eyed loons running around, hair afire, declaring the end of capitalism.
For Williams and Lowenstein (and me), all this ESG, DEI, and responsible capitalism is just window dressing, a distraction to keep the pitchforks and torches in people's closets, and to keep the guillotines in their packaging. The right-wing is doing a mirror-world version of liberals who freak out when OpenAI claims to have built a machine that will pauperize every worker – assuming that a PR pitch is the gospel truth, and then repeating it in criticism. Criti-hype, in other words:
https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5
Think of ESG: the right is freaking out that ESG is harming shareholders by leaving hydrocarbons in the ground to appease climate-addled greenies. The reality is that ESG is barely disguised greenwashing, and it's fully compatible with burning every critter that died in the Mesozoic, Cenozoic, and lo, even the Paleozoic:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/15/sanctions-financing/#profiteers
The reason this tactic is so successful is that Americans have also been sold another narrative: that American problems are solved by American individuals as entrepreneurs and businesspeople, not as polities or as members of a union (let alone the working class!).
This is the subject of the second book Lowenstein reviews, One Day I’ll Work for Myself: The Dream and Delusion That Conquered America, by Benjamin Waterhouse:
https://wwnorton.com/books/one-day-ill-work-for-myself/
A keystone of American narrative capitalism is the idea that the USA is a nation of small businesspeople, Jeffersonian yeoman farmsteaders of the US economy. But even a cursory examination shows that the country is ruled – economically and politically – by very large firms.
Uber sells itself as a way to be your own boss ("No shifts. No boss. No limits.") – even though it's a system where the app is your boss, and thanks to that layer of misdirection, Uber gets to be the worst conceivable boss, while its workers have no recourse in labor law:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men
In labor fights, Uber represents itself as the champion of innumerable "small businesspeople" who drive its unlicensed taxis. In consumer protection fights, Amazon claims to be fighting for "small businesspeople" who sell on its platform. In privacy fights, Facebook claims to represent "small businesspeople" who buy its surveillance advertising.
But large firms are actively hostile to small firms, seeing them as small-fry to be rooked or destroyed (recall that when Amazon targeted small publishers for bankruptcy-level discounts, they called the program "The Gazelle Project" and Bezos told his executives to tackle these firms "the way a cheetah pursues a sickly gazelle").
Decades of this tale have produced "a profound shift from a shared belief that individuals might come together to solve problems, into a collective faith in individual effort." America's long love-affair with rugged individualism was weaponized in the 1970s by corporations seeking to shed their regulatory obligation to workers, customers, and the environment.
As with Big Tech today, the big business lobby held up mom-and-pop businesses as the true beneficiaries of deregulation, even as they knifed these firms. A telling anecdote comes from someone who worked for the Chamber of Commerce's magazine Nation's Business: when this editor pointed out that many of the magazine's subscribers were small businesspeople and asked if they could start including articles relevant to mom-and-pops, the editor in chief said, "Over my dead body."
The neoliberal era has been an unbroken string of platitudes celebrating the small business and policies that annihilate their chances against large firms. Ronald Reagan's dewy-eyed hymns to American entrepreneurship sounded nice, but what matters is that he attempted to abolish the Small Business Administration and refused to address the 20,000 attendee "White House Conference on Small Business."
In the years since, American has sacrificed its small businesses while pulling out all the stops – bailouts and tax cuts and elite bankruptcy – to keep its largest firms growing. New regulations like Dodd-Frank were neutered in the name of saving mom-and-pop shops, even though the provisions that were cut already exempted small businesses.
Today, millions of Americans are treading water in a fetid stew of LLC-poisoning, rise-and-grind, multi-level-marketing, dropshipping and gig-work, convinced that the only way to get a better life is to pull themselves up by their bootstraps:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/10/declaration-of-interdependence/
Narrative does a lot of work here. The American economy runs on bubbles, another form of narrative capitalism. Take AI, a subject I sincerely wish I could stop hearing about, not least because I'm certain that 99% of that thinking is being wasted on whatever residue remains after the bubble pops:
https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/
AI isn't going to do your job, but its narrative may convince your boss to fire you and replace you with a bot that can't do your job. Like what happened when Air Canada hired a chatbot to answer customer inquiries and it started making shit up about bereavement discounts that the company later claimed it didn't have to honor:
https://bc.ctvnews.ca/air-canada-s-chatbot-gave-a-b-c-man-the-wrong-information-now-the-airline-has-to-pay-for-the-mistake-1.6769454
This story's been all over the news for the past couple of days, but so far as I've seen, no one has pointed out the seemingly obvious inference that this chatbot probably ripped off lots of people. The victim here was extraordinarily persistent, chasing a refund for 10 weeks and then going to the regulator. This guy is a six-sigma self-advocate – which implies a whole bell-curve's worth of comparatively normal people who just ate the shit-sandwich Air Canada fed them.
The reason AI is a winning proposition for Air Canada isn't that it can do a customer service rep's job – it can't. But the AI is a layer of indirection – like the app that is the true boss of Uber drivers – that lets Air Canada demoralize the customers it steals from into walking away from their losses.
Nevertheless, the narrative that AI Will Change Everything Forever is powerful – more powerful than AI itself, that's for sure. Take this Bloomberg headline: "Nearly all wealth gained by world's rich this year comes from AI":
https://www.business-standard.com/world-news/nearly-all-wealth-gained-by-world-s-rich-this-year-comes-from-ai-124021600006_1.html
Dig in and you find even more narrative. The single largest beneficiary of AI stock gains last year was Mark Zuckerberg ($161B!). Zuck is American Narrative Capitalism's greatest practitioner: the guy who made billions peddling a series of lies, from "pivot to video" to "metaverse," leaping from one lie to the next just ahead of the mass stock-selloffs that wiped out lesser predators.
The Narrative Capitalism Cinematic Universe has a lot of side-plots like AI and entrepreneurship and woke capitalism, but its main narrative arc was articulated, ad nauseum, by Margaret Thatcher: "There is no alternative." This is the most important part of the story, the part that says it literally can't be otherwise. The only way to organize society is through markets, and the only way to organize markets is to leave them alone, no matter how much suffering they cause.
This is a baffling story, because it's so easily disproved. Zuck says the only way to have friends is to let him surveil you from asshole to appetite, even though he once ran Facebook as the privacy-forward alternative to MySpace, and promised never to spy on you:
https://lawcat.berkeley.edu/record/1128876
Likewise, the business leaders – and their chorus of dutiful Renfields – who insist that monopoly is the natural and inevitable outcome of any market economy just handwave away the decades during which anti-monopoly enforcement actually kept most businesses from getting too big to fail and too big to jail.
I'm no champion of market efficiency – especially not as the best and final arbiter of social and economic questions – but when I hear my comrades repeating the Thatcherite claims that all forms of capitalism necessarily degrade into monopolistic quagmires, that there is no alternative, it sounds like more criti-hype.
This is a frequent point of departure during discussions of enshittification: some people dismiss the whole idea of enshittification as "just capitalism." But we had decades of digital services that either didn't degrade, or, when they did, were replaced by superior competitors with a minimum of switching costs for users who migrated from the decaying incumbent to greener pastures.
The reality is that while there are problems with all forms of capitalism, there are different kinds of capitalist problems, and some forms of capitalism are less harmful to working people and more capable of enacting and enforcing sound policy than others.
Enshittification is what happens when the constraints on the worst impulses of companies and their investors and managers are removed. When a company doesn't have competitors, when it can capture its regulators to trample our rights with impunity, when it can enlist those regulators to shut down would-be competitors who might free us from its "walled garden," and when it can fire any worker who refuses to enact harm upon the users they serve, then that company will enshittify:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel
A company can be made to treat you well, even if it is run by a wicked person who sees you as a mark to be fleeced – that mustache twirler just has to be constrained – by competition, regulation, self-help and labor. He may still hate you and wish you harm, but he won't be able to act on it.
As MLK said:
It may be true that the law cannot make a man love me, religion and education will have to do that, but it can restrain him from lynching me. And I think that's pretty important also. And so that while legislation may not change the hearts of men, it does change the habits of men. And we see this every day.
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vashtijoy · 7 months
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shido's conspiracy is big: koenkai (supporters associations) in japanese politics
How do you take over Japan, if you're a corrupt piece of shit?
On 11/25, when the Shido's Palace mission starts and you're finally released from captivity in Leblanc, the Modest Housewife in the Shibuya underground mall suddenly becomes the Not-So-Modest Housewife. And what does she tell us?
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shido has a what now
What's the "supporters association"? In Japanese, it's a 後援会 kouenkai. From Wikipedia:
Koenkai (後援会, lit. "local support groups") are an invaluable tool of Japanese Diet members, especially of the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP). (note: in P5, this is the "Liberal Co-Prosperity Party" or LCP, Shido's original party and the original ruling party.) These groups serve as pipelines through which funds and other support are conveyed to legislators and through which the legislators can distribute favors to constituents in return.
The article is fascinating; do give it a read, as I can't possibly do it justice here. These are massive organisations, and relay vast amounts of cash to their members. They organise endless activities for their members—that meeting at the Wilton Hotel on 5/5 is one. They often require a personal connection to be invited, which is why the Housewife says this to her friend:
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... she knows she wasn't invited.
Though koenkai are weaker in modern times, there are many examples of them being involved with corruption; here are a couple.
"The Asahi reported in the mid-1970s that the [koenkai of former Prime Minister Tanaka Kakuei] "virtually controls… agricultural committees, popular welfare committees, election management committees". This thorough penetration of Tanaka's koenkai into all important facets of Niigata's people's lives propelled him into becoming the father figure of the district. After his arrest in 1976 on corruption charges, many of Niigata's residents still expressed deep respect towards him."
"Due to the huge support [former Prime Minister] Takeshita Noboru enjoyed as a result of his koenkai, his electoral district in Shimane came to be known as ‘Takeshita Kingdom'. Despite being embroiled in many political scandals, related to insider trading and corruption (for which he was never charged), Takeshita's immense local support never waned."
so what does this tell us
In short, Shido's conspiracy is not a few corrupt high-level officials. It's not just Shido, Akechi, the SIU Director and those people on the ship. It is a vast organisation.
It recruits people by reputation (remember those five recommendations in the Palace?) from all levels of society—and those recruits then operate as a bloc, networking, doing favours for each other, advancing their mutual interests, connected via a hierarchy to Shido at the top. This is why Shido can control everything.
It also explains why everyone seems to be linked to the conspiracy—including the hapless Principal Kobayakawa. Did you think it was unrealistic for him to be involved? It seems likely that he was just a low-level member of Shido's koenkai.
When Shido needed someone at Shujin to investigate the Phantom Thieves, Kobayakawa was there—because they have people everywhere. A quick phone call from a higher-up in the organisation—the SIU Director, most likely, who we know Kobayakawa speaks to—and he's eating out of Shido's hand. And will do anything he wants....
So Kobayakawa wasn't anybody at all. He wasn't important. He wasn't somehow part of the deep state. He was just one of likely hundreds of thousands of paid-up Shido supporters looking to advance themselves, getting the vote out, and funding the cause.
He was in the right place at the right time. After all, the koenkai got Kobayakawa his job at Shujin. All his hopes for advancement are centred on it:
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Because just like the two housewives in the underground mall, and probably like everyone else in the koenkai, Kobayakawa is a desperate social climber, impressed by wealth and fame and power and flashy titles.
I hope he thought it was worth it.
revision history
Click here for the latest version.
v1.0 (2023/10/31)—first posted.
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summerlinenss · 20 days
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Sorry to be that person but do you have any sources of the “pro-Palestine content” Taika has interacted with? I keep seeing people talk about him liking posts and I want to believe it but I haven’t been able to find anything.
(disclaimer: as i’ve mentioned before, i don’t condone stalking through anybody’s social media to “get evidence,” so please don’t do that. the only reason i’m posting this is because it’s a question i keep seeing and i’m seriously just so tired of talking about it. and a final reminder that taika hasn’t been on twitter in almost a year now and he doesn’t seem to use instagram on a regular basis.)
i’m like 90% sure there are more i’ve seen mentioned (i distinctly remember that he liked a video from a comedian who’s been advocating for palestine but i can’t for the life of me remember their name), but these are two that i’ve personally seen online. i’ll link them both here and here (+ screenshots below).
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the previous anon from this ask (who will remain anonymous by request) also kindly got back to me with screenshots of the tweets they came across from 2018-2021. i don’t have direct links to any of these obviously, but i did quickly scroll back to 2021 just to verify and i can confirm they’re still there in his likes.
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and before anyone starts, i’m not calling him an activist for liking social media posts. no one needs praise for recognizing what’s happening is genocide. but labelling him something as serious as a zionist and harassing/wishing harm on him for signing one poorly-worded letter about freeing hostages in october (and i won’t even get into all of the alleged bullshit that went down surrounding those letters) when there is literal proof he has and continues to support a liberated palestine is so senseless.
if people really care about creating change, they can prove it by encouraging others to speak up and save their outrage for the actual zionists openly mocking the people of gaza for their suffering and taking field trips to “israel.”
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Photo
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“A butch without Metal” 
The dress code was hard on Gayle, whom the Lesbian-Feminists labeled a “female impersonator” because of her polished nails and make-up. Gayle said she wanted nothing to do with a woman’s “liberation” movement that bound her.  My own chains had become something of a problem. Doing reconnaissance on my favorite chain-link black leather boots, Radical Rita Right On had advised me, “you cant expect to retain a position of leadership with male-identified chain on your shoes.” My dark night of butchdom came around one evening as, with pliers, I pried off the gold chains slung around the ankles of my boots. Looking up at my bedroom wall, I read Judy Grahn’s poster poem, “a common woman is as common as a common loaf of bread.” Snapping the chain off my second boot, I almost cried and wondered if Grahn’s persona, Edward the Dyke, would have like my boots. I reached into the back of my closet, pulled a piece of black velvet out of my sex-toys box, and gently wrapped my chains around it.  Reshod, I stood in requiem in my boots. They were naked. I was stripped. I’d spent my life learning how to take my power through my feet. I’d drawn strength through the ground, through my boots. Felt the energy shoot out through my words, my hands. Now, a link in my butch power chain was severed. What did it mean to live as a butch without chains?  *** “I was sitting there, nervously slapping my hiking boots together, probably lost in a retrograde daze, when I heard a voice call out “Are there any butches in the room?” Subconsciously, I shot my hand up.  A hush swept the room and brought me into the present. I panicked. There was only one other woman in the room with her hand raised. “Damn!” I swore to myself, recalling the leader’s question as I felt my face turn as blue as denim. I’d been nailed by the androgynous imperative!  “This meeting is for women-identified women only. All butches must leave,”  the leader decreed. Having come to accept that all discussions in the women’s movement were collectively decided except when someone actually decided something, I stood and strode.  “This is politics. Don’t take it personally.” The older butch slammed the door in back of us as she put her arm around my shoulder. “They’ll change their minds tomorrow anyway. Come home with me. I know just what you need.” 
"Butches, Lies, and Feminism" by Jeanne Cordova, The Persistent Desire, (edited by Joan Nestle) (1992)
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kynimdraws · 2 months
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INFO POST
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Name: Kylee (they/them). 30+
A totally normal Korean American mostly known for my drawings, specifically my Pokemon nuzlocke comics. But I will talk about other things on occasion because I do have periods of being fixated on certain topics. I also am a doctor!
Interests: Pokemon, League of Legends (everything except the game lmao), Fire Emblem, Advance Wars, Animal Crossing, Mother series, Korean history/culture, character design
General FYIs: 
General inquiries/commission work/etc should be sent thru kynimdraws [at] gmail [dot] com! Tumblr messaging/asks/etc is not 100% reliable
I will not follow NSFW accounts but I am fine talking/interacting with them. There may be suggestive shitposting but I like keeping my content on the SFW side
I am VERY picky about who I follow/interact with online. Fandom content in particular is a minefield for me aka I have many things I dislike and don’t want to see, even if it might be a popular thing in media that I otherwise enjoy. Therefore, I will unfollow/block/mute liberally. There are times I accidentally block a blog bc I mistake them for bots. So if you got hit with that, just send me an ask or email me
I am very open about what I like and dislike, and none of those things are a direct attack on your sensibilities. I have never gone out of my way to directly send hate or whatever have you if I end up seeing shit I don’t like. My complaints in my little online space ain't a personal attack on you.
My ask/submission box/DMs  are open for criticisms if you have any issues you want to resolve in private. No one is perfect and I may have done ignorant shit that needs to be pointed out. I have deleted or edited posts in the past if people tell me what I did wrong. PS I get that some of my stuff may upset you, but try to act civil when pointing shit out please.
I try to tag all my things whenever I can. Again, send me a message if anything bothers you. I am all for good debate but if you send me excessive hate or threats bc I have different opinions about matters that are trivial, I will block/delete them.
If you wish to use any of my hcs, please credit me. And if you are comfortable with it, send me the works so I can check them out! Or @ me if that is easier.
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FIRE EMBLEM FYI: Specifically for 3Houses/3Hopes because I need a separate one for this franchise specificially given how many crazy things I got due to being involved in this fanbase via my fanworks:
DO NOT try to convince me to like or tolerate Byleth/student ships, ESPECIALLY the ones with the lords (aka CIaude, Dimitri, EdeIgard). I already summarized why I don’t like FE3H Byleth ships with student chars here. While the spinoff game FEW3H has now removed that teacher/student problematic situation, the fandom keeps putting the FE3H elements into the FEW3H fanworks (i.e. remembering Byleth from “another life” trope)...so no thanks!! DO NOT SHOW ME IT!!!
As for the Byleth ships with faculty members, my response is here so don’t try to bait me about that topic either thanks.
I do not care whom you ingame S-support. 3Houses limits the dating-sim part of the game to that character, so I cannot care less about how you play the game. The main issue I have is when people treat Byleth the “character” as a legit ship material when I personally think they are a cool character ruined by fans who are too obsessed with badly executed self insert otome tropes bc they self-project super hard onto them. Just to be clear, any FE3H or FEW3H OC/Canon >>>>>>Byleth ships personally. Even Byleth-sonas that remove the teacher/student aspects are better than canon FE3H!Byleth
Please don't drag FE VA statements as some sort of “gotcha” on my opinions like this post here. IDC what other people prefer with ship shit, that’s their problem and not mine. I am not gonna bother them about it. So don’t bother ME about it.
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Links to check out:
Myths of Unova + Episode Grey (Pkmn White/White2 Comic)
Tales of Sinnoh (Pkmn Diamond Comic)
Art Site (Portfolio)
Twitter 
Instagram 
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doublesunsets · 1 year
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Experiment 002
Tech x Reader PWP - NSFW - Explicit Word Count: 3.1K
Summary: If he thought that your pleasure was worth exploring, you were not going to contradict him. If his analytical mind found your moans interesting enough, you will provide them gladly.
Warnings: reader POV, smut, oral sex female receiving, liberal use of the word 'fascinating', (slightly) overstimulation, did I say smut? Self-indulgent smut
Author's note: Still, I don't even know, mate. Some people asked for seconds, and who am I to get in the way of science. I gave Tech a hair-pulling kink, I'm not sorry. There's no beta, I apologise if there are any mistakes. I also apologise for my pretensions of knowing how to write sex, I'm just trying to have fun. -Sunset
part I & part III
✩ AO3 link
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You stood on your toes at the top of the lifting platform, trying to force the hydrospanner to move with the weight of your body, but the angle wasn’t right, and you groaned out loud in frustration. You twisted your body trying to find a good position, but inside the hull there wasn’t that much space around, so when you hit your elbow against some metal part you retaliated saying something about its mother. You were definitely not throwing your frustration at the ship, not of course. 
The Havoc Marauder was stationed at the outskirts of a nice and quiet city that the squad knew to be safe. It had been a couple of intense weeks, some bounty hunter had got sight of the group and there had been some pretty nasty gunfights, but it was all solved now. They were not coming back for any of you. Not for anyone else, for that matter. Besides some scratches already healed, everyone got out of it unscathed, and you were glad for it, you really were. It was a time to feel happy and not other feelings were in the way.  You were definitely not mourning the lack of alone time with Tech, not of course.
When everyone decided to go into the city earlier, Tech announced that he wanted to run a diagnostics on his ship, just to make sure everything was in pristine conditions. As you noticed that Echo was about to volunteer to stay back with him, you stopped him, and told him that you would do it, no problem at all, and even if he hesitated at first, Omega grabbing his hand was all he needed to concede. Tech had been crouched over his datapad already and didn’t notice any of the exchange, so when you let him know that you had stayed behind to help, he startled at your voice, his eyes wide behind his goggles. You let him space, and went to check your usual things, while he kept looking at you, datapad clutched in his hands, like a mynock in headlights. You were definitely not expecting him to be overwhelmed by scientific curiosity again, not of course. 
So far he had been busy plugging and checking, and paying little to no attention to you, but that was to expect. You were quite sure that this piece of junk, that was definitely not mocking you right now, came first to him. Your only hope was that once he finished all his tasks, you came second, and judging by the small movement of the platform, you were right.
“It seems you are having difficulties up there,” Tech’s voice came from some place in front of you, outside the hull.
“I cannot reach it properly!” you growled at the bolt. “The angle is wrong, so I don’t have enough leverage.”
“I have already finished with my diagnostics, allow me to help you.”
“I don’t think we can both fit in here, Tech, don’t wo–,” two firm hands on your hips made you gasp and you almost bit your tongue.
“Two work better than one, darling.” He had climbed onto the platform and was pushing you a little, so he could squeeze himself in between you and the ship. You looked down and instantly regretted it, the visual of Tech on his knees grasping your hips was more than you could handle at the moment with the limited oxygen you had inside the hull.
He pushed himself inside, his head and shoulders managing to fit in, up to your stomach. Your shirt had slid up from your movements, and now his breath was hitting your skin, making your heart pound so hard that it was hard to listen to what he was saying.
“I am quite positive that I can lift you up enough and stabilise you, so you can secure the bolt. Are you prepared?”
“Yes, I–” you cleared your throat, taking a deep breath to focus your thoughts. “Sure, I am ready.”
You were not.
Tech surrounded your hips and looped his arms under your butt, and then stood slowly, lifting you carefully. He was basically hugging you, your mind unhelpfully provided, his face pressed against your stomach, and your left hand flew to his head to ground you. 
“Can you reach it properly now?” His words were spoken directly into you, his breath scorching your skin.
You gulped and forced yourself to look up again, trying to locate the blasted bolt. “Yes, I can. Just, don’t move.” Without thinking, you grasped his head more firmly, his soft hair between your fingers, and focused on your task.
Certainly it was easier from this angle. On the other hand, it was harder, mostly because you were hyper-aware of Tech’s strong arms hugging your thighs and his breath tickling your navel. You attached the hydrospanner to the bolt and started unscrewing it.
“This is a very intimate position,” Tech’s voice broke your concentration, and you almost dropped the hydrospanner on his head.
You snorted. “Are you realising that just now?” 
“I searched for the most efficient way of helping you, I didn’t stop to think about the logistics of it, nor the consequences of you grabbing my hair either, if I’m being honest.”
“The consequences of–” You stopped and finished removing the loose bolt, changing it for the new one in your pocket. When it was done, you grabbed Tech’s hair again, this time a little bit harder, and he hissed. “What kind of consequences, Tech?”
“It seems that proximity to your skin intoxicates my senses,” he muttered almost to himself.
Oh, you knew this tone of voice already. His voice was sharper, meticulous, as calculations rolled around in his mind. You looked down at him, but he was not looking at you, his forehead leaned on your stomach. 
“And that’s all?” He didn’t respond, so you tried again. “Are there any other variables, Tech?”
You punctuated your question with another soft tugging of his hair, the vibrations of his moan straight to your core.
“It also seems that I deeply enjoy the sensation of your hand pulling my hair.”
You felt through your grip how he tilted his head and pressed his face further into you, starting to leave kisses on every patch of skin he could reach. He started with small peaks that soon enough evolved into open-mouthed kisses that left a wet trail. The hydrospanner and his head were your only support points, and they were quickly becoming not enough.
“Maker, Tech,” you breathed out his name like a prayer. “I am not complaining, but do you think I could finish this first?”
“You are perfectly capable of carrying on with your task with what I am doing right now.”
As if to exemplify the opposite of his point, Tech ran his tongue slowly through your navel, and you let out a frustrated groan. His assumptions about how capable you were of working while he was kissing your stomach were highly inaccurate, and as he bit your hipbone, you jerked on his embrace, your hand slipping from the handle of your tool, that luckily stayed secured by its hold on the bolt. He continued kissing and biting at a leisurely pace, completely oblivious of the magnitude of his effect on you. You took another deep breath and managed to take hold of the hydrospanner again, finishing tightening the bolt.
“Okay,” you let him know with a trembling voice, patting his head. “Job’s done, let me down.”
Tech crouched again on the platform floor and took you down with him, but after the tension, your legs failed you, and you fell on your knees the moment he released you. He quickly held you again, stopping your fall, and secured you against his chest. He searched your eyes, a look of concern on his face, but before he could say anything you took the momentum and closed the distance, kissing his lips firmly. Without hesitation, his arms tightened around you, rendering yours useless, trapped between your bodies. When you moved your head back, there was a nice blush on his cheeks, and he looked at you with wide eyes.
“Did you enjoy the sensation of my lips as well?” You asked him cheekily. 
“I am going to need more evidence,” his dazed voice made you smile, but it was short-lived.
He pounced at you and kissed your smile away, leaving only fire. Tech didn’t do anything half-heartedly, and that included kissing. You freed your arms and crept them around his neck while he moved his lips against yours with an insistence that made you arch your back, his firm embrace the only thing keeping you upright. Your fingers entangled with his hair once more, and you were definitely taking a liking to this recently discovered outcome, taking advantage of his gasp to intrude his mouth with your tongue and taste him in an experiment of your own. Your mind couldn’t grasp how such a sharp tongue could be so warm and soft, pliant at your motions, and you could have stayed there, under the open hull of the Marauder, kissing him forever, if it weren’t for his comlink going off at your back.
He moved away and answered over your shoulder, Hunter’s voice coming loud and clear from his vambrace, “Tech. How are those repairs going?”
“Problem?” His clipped tone sounded annoyed, and you started kissing his jawline. Hopefully, the comm didn’t catch his gasp.
“No, no problem at all. We just found a nice place, and were going to grab something decent for once, you two coming?”
“No. I haven’t— we haven’t finished yet. There is no reason to wait for us.” You raised your eyebrows, surprised, but he didn’t look at you.
“Sure, see you later then.” Hunter sounded wary, but didn’t mention anything else and closed the communication.
“I thought you had finished already with the diagnostics,” you observed innocently.
“That is correct. Nonetheless, there is another pressing matter at the moment that requires my attention.” 
“Is that so? Another experiment?”
“Indeed. I just thought about something and would like to test a theory.”
“Which one?”
“I want to check how you cum quicker, with my fingers or my mouth.”
———
Surely all the repairs were done, you hoped, because none of you spared a second glance while going back inside and entering the cockpit. Tech was silent, methodically removing his upper body armour, with a look of concentration of someone who was calculating the best hyperspace route and not the logistics of sex inside a battleship.
You were giddy, your body remembering what it was to be the focus of his attention, currents of electricity travelling through your veins. If he thought that your pleasure was worth exploring, you were not going to contradict him. If his analytical mind found your moans interesting enough, you will provide them gladly. You removed your boots and sat on the pilot chair, turning it to face him, his back to you, and delighted for a moment in the view without the extra layers; even if he hadn't removed his blacks, they left little to the imagination. He looked at you over his shoulder and hummed approvingly at your sitting spot choice.
“What do you want me to do?” Your breathy voice wavered in anticipation, and the corners of his lips turned slightly upward at the sound.
“Well, for the sake of the experiment I am going to need you naked, but allow me,” he strode over you and kneeled on the floor.
Tech reached out and grabbed your knees, blood rushed to your ears while his hands slid up your thighs slowly, until he reached the waist of your trousers. He hooked his fingers under your clothes and tugged both of them down, stopping for you to lift your ass a little, so he could remove them completely. He grabbed your knees again, opening them this time, and the cold air hit your wet cunt, making you hiss between your teeth.
“You are already wet for me, darling. Is it due to the kisses? Or the anticipation?” He glanced at you, 
“Ah, both, I guess. Your hands on my skin are also helping,” you breathed out, eyeing how those hands drew patterns on the inside of your thighs.
“I see.” He grabbed your thigh tightly, his fingers pressing enough to make indentations but stopping on the good side of hurting. “Do you like my hands, then?”
“Maker, yes.” 
“Yes, of course you do,” he tugged, stopping when you were on the edge of the seat. “But for the sake of science, we have to deviate from what we already know. The search for knowledge is insatiable, you know?”
A shudder went through your body at his words, and instinctively opened your legs further, exposing yourself more and giving him all the permission he needed. Not that he seemed to hesitate at his actions, his movements had the usual confidence with which he carried himself, even if under his googles you could see him blushing at your reaction. His whole demeanour was a mixture of cockiness and vulnerability, and it made you want to submit and coddle him in equal parts. You reached with your hand to his jawline, crooking your fingers under his chin.
“And what about you, Tech?” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “Can you be satisfied?”
To your surprise, he shook his head, “Not in the slightest, darling. Since the first time you allowed me to touch you, I have come to realise that I will always want more, you are too fascinating,” your chest tightened, and a whimper escaped your lips. “Right now, though, I’ll be satisfied as soon as I see you come in my mouth.” 
He bowed his head and started kissing up your leg to the apex of your thigh, and stopped there, looking up at you, gauging your reaction. His hot breath hit your cunt, and you squirmed, breathing heavily, unable to stay still. Those brown eyes were scrutinizing you, as if he was trying to discover the very fibre of your existence, it made you feel drunk of a liquor never tasted, seeing him there, kneeled between your legs, his hands clutching your thighs like a lifeline, and for a moment you had the illusion of being the only creature in the galaxy who could capture his attention.
You were not far from begging him to move, forward or backward, you didn’t care, but being on the edge of falling was making your whole body tremble. Your mouth opened, but before you could utter a word, he turned his head and gave an open-mouthed kiss to your cunt, turning your begging into a loud moan.
“Fascinating,” he spoke without moving back, his lips spelling the word into you, and the shiver that went down your spine left you trying to grasp into something, so you wouldn’t slide down to the floor. “Such a good experiment subject, such a good girl.”
Your cunt clenched around nothing at his words, while he took one of your hands and put it on his head. A part of you remembered what he told you earlier and instinctively tangled up your fingers into his hair. His tongue delved down into your folds, and you sobbed at his wet heat. He dragged his tongue back to your clit and closed his lips around it, you moaned and pulled, making him close his eyes and groan, the vibrations going straight through your clit.
Tech seemed intent on only using his mouth this time, but you could feel his fingers pressing harder into your skin with every new gasp falling from your lips, inching closer to your core. His whole focus was on you, away from his own body, and he kept sucking your clit and flickering it steadily with his tongue. When your body was starting to get used to the rhythm, on a clear path to your release, he let it go, and you whimpered at the lost.
You didn’t have much time to recover, as he murmured something that didn’t reach your ears and pushed your legs open as far as the pilot seat allowed him. You could feel your wetness and his spit sliding down, and the knowledge of the state you were leaving his seat in pushed shamefully closer to the edge. He licked down around your entrance, dragging his nose against your clit every time he moved his head, and your other hand went to his nape, trying to hold him against you, to pull him impossibly closer. You weren’t sure if he was indulging your unspoken petition or himself, but he then penetrated you with his tongue, and you moaned obscenely loud while he continued fucking you with it.
Your whole body was a tense wire that needed to be released, you were right there teetering on the edge, shaking and vibrating out of your skin, while Tech continued devouring you without restrains. You tried to speak to no avail, the only thing coming out of your mouth a high-pitched whine, so you pulled his hair once more trying to get him up, until his mouth was back on your clit. He closed his lips around it and sucked, and your whine turned into a cry as your orgasm broke free.
You flew above the seat and came back without even moving, your senses coming back to you one by one. The cold durasteel floor under your feet; the leather seat creaking under the pressure of your body; the bright sun coming from the cockpit windows; and Tech’s warm presence still between your legs. He rested his head on your thigh, panting, his mouth and chin glistening, and you whimpered at the visual. He noticed you looking at him, turned his head and gave you a soft kiss, followed by a smile pressed into your skin.
“You were amazing, such a good girl,” his reassuring words distracted you enough that you didn’t notice his creeping fingers, until they reached your centre and played around gathering your wetness. You were too sensitive after your orgasm and recoiled, but he kissed your thigh again to soothe you. “Shh, it’s fine, darling. You did a truly magnificent job, I believe we broke the record.” 
“How do you know?” your eyes fell shut, and you felt so drained that you could have fallen asleep if only his fingers stopped playing with your cunt as if it was another of his tinkering projects.
“I’ve been timing it in my head, of course.”
“Of course!” You laughed, or chuckled really, your body still under a blissful spell. 
“Now, do you want me to clean you up and go meet the others?” he proposed nonchalantly first, and then without missing a beat buried his index finger up your cunt slowly, your eyes and mouth flew open at the sudden but not unwelcomed intrusion. “Or do you think we could try another experiment? I couldn’t stop thinking about—”
+++++++
Hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading, commenting, liking, sharing, and existing, basically. Tech loves you, and so do I.
Tag list: (in case anyone wants to be tagged for any future shenanigans, just let me know)
@fenharel-enaste
209 notes · View notes
yullen · 7 months
Text
D.Gray-man c249 p1~18 TL
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D.Gray-man 第249後: AWに別れを告げる Night 249: Saying Farewell to A.W.
束の間の団欒僅かな幸せを頬ばりながら While stuffing one’s cheeks with a brief moment of happiness together, gathered in a circle
p19~26 
google doc | JP transcription | proofreading: @/kudouusagi ※there are likely inaccuracies, feel free to check back.
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さて!  Now, then!
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あの......  Allen: Um……
ずっと同じ服装だと危険だから着替えなさい It’s dangerous to keep the same attire, so please change.
逃亡もののジョーシキ!  Common sense, for fugitives!
ここの物は自由に使っていいから Feel free to use these.
Link: 私は結構てす  I'm good.
お金のニオイがする A:  I smell money
これブランド品では...!? A: These are brand-name...?!
うーんちょっと大きいな   動きやすく手直しするね Johnny: Hm, a little big. I’ll adjust it for ease of movement.
いやこれブランド品... A: No but wait— these are brand-name...
科学班モード [ Science Department Mode ]
昨日からずっと気になってたんですが... この高級なお宅は元帥の一体どういう......? A: I’ve been wondering since yesterday, but... what is this posh place of yours, General......?
ついでに髪も切ろっか!座ってアレン J: While we’re at it, why don’t I give your hair a cut! Sit, Allen.
ああ  はい.. A: Ah, sure...
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靴はこれでいいかな Wonder if these shoes will do.
ここは私のパトロンの別邸だから気にしないで This is a secondary residence of a patron’s, so don’t mind it.
え!?  Eh?!
元帥は画家としても有名なんだよ   いくつかこういう拠点を持ってる The General is also famous as a painter. He has a few of these places.
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なるほど...   師匠の愛人と似たようなものか... I see... So it’s like with Master’s lovers, huh...
あの不良と一緒にしないでね Please don’t lump me in with that hoodlum.
すみませんっ!!!   [ アレン ] Pardon, my bad!!!  [ Allen ]
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パトロン......   あっ Patrons......  Ah,
クロスが一番信用してた人間に聞いてみるといい Try asking the person Cross trusted most.
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オレの精神世界に在る屋敷 あの場所を目指せとクロスに言われたんだろ? The mansion in my inner world  (lit. inner psychological world) Cross told you to head to that place, didn’t he?
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はいカットできあがり~! Cut complete~!
あのッ  ここ電話機はあります? Um, do you have a phone (I can use)?
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ジリリリリン  ジリリリリン  Riririririring  Riririririring 
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なんだ  おまえか  Oh hey, it’s you.
マザーーー!!  Mother———!!
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「クロス元師が一番信用してた人間」かぁ... The person General Cross trusted most, huh…
ネアがわざわざウォーカーにメッセージしてきたのなら 何か進展がありそうですね If Nea (went out of his way) to leave Walker this message, then there (should) likely be some progress from this.
……
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心配  WORRY
でもさぁ〜〜〜  それってなんか 罠っぽく思えちゃうのは感が過ぎないのかなぁ But you know~~~  It’s just that, it seems much too like a trap.
ネアと言う男はそういう小細工を嫌うタイプかと Link: Nea seems to be the type of man to dislike such cheap tricks. (this is the revised JP script, cr for JP script: @/ponkotsubluuues)
アレンの上着をつめてます Sewing Allen’s jacket (つめて is used for e.g. ‘taking in’ a shirt, but chose ‘adjust’ since it’s vaguer  chose the more liberal option for more amusing tone)
私が思うにですが   ネアという男は   ちゃうのは考え過ぎなのかなぁ~~~~ This is (just) my opinion, but a man such as Nea might say,  “I wonder if you aren’t overthinking it~~~~”
ホントぉ〜〜〜!?  Really~~~?!
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どちらかといえば”手段を選んでいられない”というように思える... If anything, I think it’s more like he “isn’t at liberty to choose his methods”...
ネアにとってこの現状は計画通りにいっていないのかもな Perhaps things aren’t going as planned for Nea.
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わざわざメッセージを寄越したんだ 罠じゃなくても屋敷へ行ってもらいたい狙いがあんだろ おそらくネアは聖戦の真実や自分のことをモヤシに知られることを怖れていない   知って欲しいんだ He went out of his way to send this message, so even if it's not a trap, he (must have a reason) he wants him to go to that mansion. Nea likely isn’t afraid of letting the beansprout know the truth of the holy war or about himself. He wants (him) to know.
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キャンベル邸には根深いものがあると思ったほうがいい It’s better to think there’s something deeply rooted within the Campbell estate.
ネアからはそれ以上の情報は聞けなかったとウォーカーは言っていたが ネアが助言してきた理由を問わなかったとは思えない 本当は何か聞いたのではないのか...? でなければウォーカーがネアの言葉をすんなりと信じるわけがない Walker said he didn’t any information more than that from Nea, but I don’t think he wouldn’t question Nea's motives for giving counsel. Did he really not ask/hear anything (else)...? Otherwise, Walker wouldn’t be believing Nea’s words without any trouble.
あの時鏡の前でウォーカーは確かにうろたえていた... ネアに何を言われた? ここまできて我々に伝えることをためらうようなことがまだあるのか At that time, in front of the mirror, Walker did seem perturbed... What did Nea say to him? Is there still something he’s hesitant to share with us, who’ve come this far?
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元気そうじゃないか   で?用件は何だい   Don’t you seem well.   Well? Something you need?
マザーじゃなかったら他に心当たりがないのでどうか頼みます……! If not Mother, then I have no idea who else to ask, so please......!
あ? Huh?
カテリーナ"イヴ"キャンベルという人を知りませんか? Do you know anyone named Katerina “Eve” Campbell?
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…………
?  マザー?  Mother?
...どこでその名を?  ...Where did you hear that name?
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その...師匠から   幻だったかもしれませんが...    Well, that’s... from Master.   It might’ve just been a dream/illusion, but…
え~~と... でいいよな? Eerm...   This is fine, right?
あいつめ... 生きていたんだね That man...  He’s alive, isn’t he.
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...いつかおまえにその名を尋ねられたら   ”ある人物”を紹介するようクロスから言付かってるよ ...Cross told me that if you ever asked about that name, I should introduce you to "a certain person".
!!
この役目を果たす時がきたか... So it’s come time for me to fulfill this role... 
今から言うことは書いて残さず頭で覚えな From now, without writing anything down, remember what I say in your head.
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ウィンダーミアの街に鳩と梟を掲げた「ズーグル」という名の古書店がある そのマスターが「宿主」を待っているだろう In the town of Windermere, there is an antiquarian bookshop named "Zoogle", raising on it a dove and an owl. Its owner will be there, waiting for “the host”.
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証となるティムキャンピーをみせな   それが信用を得る唯一の合図だ As evidence, show Timcanpy as proof.   That is the sole sign to earn their trust.
……!? ティムが...Tim...
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マザー   実は  ティムは…… Mother.   Actually, Tim is already......
そうか...   アタシが言えるのはこれだけだ あとはおまえが何とかするしかないよ Is that so... That’s all I have to say. You’ll have to manage the rest.
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おそらくただの古書店じゃないだろうさ 宿主だと証明できなければ殺されるかもしれない   油断するんじゃないよ It’s most likely not just any antiquarian bookstore. If you can’t prove you’re the host, they might kill you.  Don’t be careless, now.
うん  やってみます     ありがとうマザー Alright, I’ll give it a try.   Thank you, Mother.
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.....はっ  Haー   なにが油断するなだ......   馬鹿かアタシは......   What’s that about carelessness...   What am I, a fool…
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宿主を待ってる人物ってことはネアの協力者ってことなのかな? The one waiting for the host, I wonder if that means he’s a collaborator of Nea’s?
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すっすごく危険な気がするんだけど! That–That sounds super dangerous!
安心しろよどこへ行こうがおまえとモヤシは危険だ Relax, no matter where you go, you and the beansprout will be in danger.
うぐぅ    それはたしかに Gerk–!    Well, that’s for certain.
そのズーグルさん??といいクロス元帥やリンク監査官... ネアに協力したい人間って意外といるのかなぁ    何なんだろうネアって That Mr. Zoogle?? General Cross, and Inspector Link... I wonder if there aren’t a surprising amount of people who are willing to collaborate with Nea. (lit. want to) What’s with this Nea?
ギル私はもう監査官ではありませんので    何度もいいますが Gill, I’m already no longer an Inspector.    I’ve said it many times, but.
あっ    また呼んじゃった?  Ah, I called you that again, did I?
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おそらくズーグル古書店はキャンベル邸への案���役... 危険なのはキャンベル邸だ   もしかしたらネアの生家なんじゃねぇのか 奴のホームグラウンドってわけだ The Zoogle Antiquarian Bookstore might be our guide to the Campbell Manor... The danger here is the Campbell Manor. It may be the birthplace of Nea, meaning his home ground.
ネアのメモリーが最も濃密な場所...... The place thickest with Nea’s memories...
僕もそう思う   ネアの侵食が始まってからずっと呼ばれてる気がするんです I think so as well. That place has been calling to me since Nea’s encroachment.
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夕焼けに照らされたコーネリアの木……   そこに佇むあの屋敷 The mansion standing... by Cornelia’s tree, lit by the glow of the sunset
ネアの精神世界で師匠は言ってました「ここがアレン・ウォーカーの消える場所」だって それってつまり... キャンベル邸でネアが復活するって意味なのかも In Nea’s inner world, Master said “This is where Allen Walker will disappear.” So, that is to say...  Campbell Manor might be where Nea will be reborn.
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このままクロス・マリアンの筋書きにのって良いのですかウォーカー Is it alright to follow along with Cross Marian’s plot like this, Walker?
いいじゃねーか    どの道ネアと白黒つけなきゃならねぇんだろ Isn’t it fine? We have to settle things (deal with matters of white/black) with Nea at any rate.
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どこぞの鴉もそのほうが好都合じゃねーの? Isn’t that more convenient for some Crow?
今はウォーカーの同行者ですのでウォーカーの決断に従います Now, I am Walker’s comrade, thus I will abide by Walker's decision.
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同行者だったり協力者だったり   切り替えが大変だよなぁ A comrade and a collaborator, must be so hard switching between the two, huh.
トゲ トゲ トゲ トゲ トゲ prickly x5
ウォーカーが問題ないというのですから私も全く問題ありません   ご心配なく If Walker has no issues with it, then I am also completely without issue. No worries.
......
ギッズギス creak/grate
仲悪~い   On ba~d terms
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うーん Umm...
まぁ神田の反応は仕方ないか……  リンク監査官のうしろにいるルベリエ長官の思惑もわかんないままだし Well, Kanda’s reaction can’t be helped… Since we still don’t know the intentions of Director Lvellie behind Inspector Link.
はは   確かに師匠の筋書きの通りにいっちゃってる感はありますよねー Haha, It definitely does seem like things are going according to Master’s plans...
このまま先へ進んだところで  宿主「アレン」が消える末路は変わらんぞ If things continue like this, the fate of the host “Allen” disappearing won’t change.
おまえはオレに宿主にされたんじゃない 自ら進んでその身をオレに捧げたんだよ おまえは  アポクリフォスに作り変えられてる I did not make you my host. You offered/sacrificed yourself to me of your own free will. You   were remade by Aprocryphos.
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…決着をつけるために教団を出てきたんですから   このまま進みます ...Since I left the Order to settle this,   I’ll keep moving forward like this.
……
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宿主の証か…… 師匠が僕にティムキャンピーを託してくれたのはこの為だったのかな Proof of the host...... I wonder if Master entrusted me with Timcanpy for this purpose.
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ともだちになっていいですか……? Can I become friends with him......?
師匠もティムもずっと僕に宿主の役目を果たさせるために育ててくれたのかもしれない そうだとしても  僕にとってふたりが大事な存在なのは変わらない…… Master and Tim may have been raising me for the sake of fulfilling the role of the host all along. Even so, those two being precious existences to me will not change...... 
ずっとともだちだ You were always my friend.
どこまでも一緒に行こうなティム No matter where, let’s go there together, Tim.
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着いたよ We’ve arrived.
ここで別れよう Let us part ways here.
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色々とありがとうございましたティエドール元節 Thank you, General Tiedoll. For many things.
なに  大変なのはこれからだウォーカーくん What’s that?  The hard part comes now, Walker-kun.
私とユーくんは一度教団に戻り隠密に一「マナ」の墓とアポクリフォスについて調べよう 手紙も電信も危険だろうからしばらくは連絡はとれないが  必ず情報をもってキミたちを追う Yuu-kun and I will return to the Order, and secretly investigate Mana’s grave and Aprocryphos. Since letters and telegraphs are too dangerous, we won’t be able to contact you for a while, but   we’ll definitely bring you the information and follow along.
p19~26
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emmettworld · 2 months
Note
Okay I promise this is genuine and I don't want to send hate, and if you don't believe it, fair...but why post the works involving minors and nsfw (yes that includes the incest) ? I do believe that you can write whatever you want, and I don't think you're some boggeyman that get his kick of writing about abused kids or whatever bullshit. But there's a difference between writing it and publishing it, and while I think it's unfair your blog was straight up deleted and not flagged, I can also understand why Tumblr did it : I read the ToS, and I don't think they're just for real minors (but it's my personnal interpretation). This type of work (text, art, etc) can be shared with a group of friends or a group of people who're all used to this kind of content, and maybe it would prevent the risk of people stumbling unto texts involving Logan and David for example (happened to me once, oof) and more importantly, Tumblr throwing a fit? You're an amazing artist and while I haven't kept up with your content for a while (I unfollowed when you started posting about incest and non-con against minors sorry, it's a topic I really don't like), I don't want you to keep on being flagged and banned forever.
the simplest answer i have is because it's part of who i am as a creator, and sharing those parts has not just been extremely liberating and cathartic for me, but for others too.
that's one of the most important things to me. it would be different if all i got was hate and not a shred of support or positivity -- if nobody told me that they liked it, that it helped them be more comfortable with themselves and their own work, then i don't know if i would. it's hard to say whether i would just get bogged down by hate and give it up or if it would keep going regardless.
but aside from that, it's the principle. it's the fact that i, as well as similar creators, am not forcing anyone to see this content. i am not posting things uncensored for anyone to stumble upon. i always use very specific warnings, read mores, and links. not once would you encounter a post of mine like that and see anything explicit unless you chose to view it.
and that's the principle i'm fighting for: choice.
this website used to be place where you could pretty much post anything, way before the Naughty Ban, because we understood it was all about personal choice. about curating your own content, blocking tags and blogs you didn't want to see, unfollowing if you had to (which you have EVERY right to do, and don't need to apologize for!). most of us followed online etiquette and those who didn't, again, you can just choose to unfollow or block. not report them just for posting shit you don't like.
the TOS explicitly states real minors. if they wanted to include fictional, they should have stated that. if they wanted to include fictional, they should not only reference the actual crime, but the thought crime of creating things that don't adhere to morals in reality.
personally, i think it's one or two people throwing a fit, but that's just me. i think my content, which is not even posted directly to this site and is by no means being shoved in anyone's face, is the least of this site's problems or concerns.
but anyways, that's why i'm ready to die on this hill. because i've met so many wonderful people from being open about what i post, no matter how disturbing it may be, and because we should all be able to post freely as creators if we're not directly showing anything explicit that could violate TOS.
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nunalastor · 3 months
Text
Ask Compilation Because We Are TIRED.
@azzythestupid:
Last night i tried having a dream about radioapple via looking through all your radioapple asks on here 
I had a dream about blitzø and striker somehow
Anonymous:
Been watching Taylor Tomlinson's Netflix comedy specials and she has this joke where she talks about how growing up religious made her weird in many ways, one of which was masturbating wrong for her entire adult life. She goes on to explain that because her youth group was told that masturbation itself isn't a sin, it's the lust in your heart when you're doing it, she decided she could masturbate as long as she kept her mind totally blank except for "road trip thoughts (almost there, making good time)." Anyway that's Vaggie to me hjhjhb
@azzythestupid:
Ay did you answer my ask abt the "au where hh characters are in the place of hb characters"? If you did can you gimmie a link 2 it
@blaackbiird:
alla that little red Riding Hood ask but it's Hoodwinked
@xxx-angiedust
"creepy old guy" from beetlejuice but someone for me it's literal
'gum disease' which alastor canonically has black gums from a lack of hygeine iirc
also i love beetlejuice too i would marry him or alastor fr
Anonymous asked:
Since when did the cannibal colony get tumblr?!?! 
Anonymous asked:
Blood and cannibalism? Who started this??
-Alastors dick
Anonymous asked:
huskers-bar mom has got it going on~
Anonymous asked:
How Alastor hasn't given himself chronic wasting disease is a mystery beyond anyone's understanding. Either human or as a deer demon, he shows no signs of having gotten a torturous existence via prion.
xxx-angiedust asked:
if gay people don't exist, how are you this popular?
checkmate liberals
Anonymous asked:
Oh, they look good!
-Alastors dick
Anonymous asked:
I know where Eve went.
She was turned into a rubber duck!
Anonymous asked:
Oh! I've found it!
-Alastors dick
Anonymous asked:
B-b-bingus cursed alastor cat
Anonymous asked:
I feel devious, like I'm a little rat scurrying around when I leave a message in a blogs inbox anonymously and they only know me by some goofy ass name I thought up.
-Alastors dick
Anonymous asked:
I just got sent the something anonymously and now I must send it here.
Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby, let me know-
-Alastors dick
Anonymous asked:
I know you know who I am, I'm just hiding from the other people on this blog. It's like the confessionals, you see.
*thump* *bleat* *thump* is canon????
-Alastors dick
I usually hate swifties because of a expierence but ill make an exeption for you cursed mod
-😋
Anonymous asked:
Hii! How are you this hellish morning/day/evening/night ? :>
Love how you and huskers-bar have a ship name now😂
-🦋
Anonymous asked:
Just to piggyback off angeldust never forgiving Valentino and redemption/ forgiveness, I once had a pastor tell me that if I was unable to forgive someone who hurt me badly, then it was ok to just forgive myself for not forgiving my abuser. Forgiveness can come in many different forms and part of redemption is forgiving yourself 
Anonymous asked:
wsg
im the person that did an ask on the charlie x al and on how i let my friend used my acc
lemme tell u smth
I WANNA FUCKING DIE THIS FURRY ASS SHIT KEEPS APPEARING ON MY FYP
AND I FEEL SO BAD FOR VAGGIE😭😭
love u btw
muah🥰🥰
xxx-angiedust asked:
"why does everyone suddenly wanna get cartoon characters pregnant?"
i've been writing mpreg since i was 11
xxx-angiedust asked:
i need alastor's tentacles inside me
i need to ripped apart by them like rire in boyfriend to death
@fujillamaparadise asked:
Alastor + Loki = ??????
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skyloftian-nutcase · 6 months
Text
The Great Bakeoff (pt 1)
I'm waiting for my dough to rise so let's have some fun and see how several of the blorbos handle making bread :D
Healthcare AU
Malon smiled, hands on her hips as she surveyed all the ingredients and cookware in front of her. She had organized her tools on her counter like a scrub tech would lay out tools for a surgery, which she had noted halfway through with a touch of amusement, but it was routine to her, so she let it carry over into her kitchen.
Today was the day she and Time finally had more than one day off together, and she was choosing to celebrate. Being domestic and making some bread seemed appropriate, and she'd gone to the bakery with Four enough times to want that amazing smell of freshly baked bread wafting through her own home.
Time to get to work. Reading the cookbook, she yelped when she felt hands slide around her waist.
"Oh, you!" she harrumphed, bopping her husband on the face with a roll of paper towels. "I'm trying to bake!"
"I see that," Time noted. "Need some help?"
"The last time you tried to help you set the bread on fire."
"That was only one time, dear."
Malon shooed him. "Go outside and spend some time with the horses like you've been wanting to. I'll meet you out there."
Time smiled and obliged, though not before stealing her dish rag and making her chase him and pay a toll of a kiss for its safe return. Eventually she set to work, focusing and enjoying the task at hand. As she combined flour, yeast, sugar, and salt, she couldn't help but wonder how all of this would make a good loaf.
Well, it doesn't have to be perfect, she supposed. Just edible. I can do edible. I'm a mighty fine cook, after all... or at least I used to be before my nursing career destroyed my free time.
But she'd never baked, and she knew how precise of an art that was.
Malon poured the hot water into the mixture, hesitantly stirring it with a spoon before getting her hands dirty. The first mistake was that she definitely should have put flour on her hands to avoid the dough sticking to her, but it seemed to form together well enough under her hands.
Smiling at her work, Malon covered the dough and set a timer on her phone before washing her hands and strolling out to see Link riding Epona around the field.
Ordon Fam
Uli stress baked and she would be the first one to admit it.
Most of her cooking was meals - hearty stews, egg and milk based recipes, vegetables and the occasional fruit or meat that Rusl would bring. But when her worries clenched her heart and made it to her hands, she would end up buying ingredients off Sera and setting to work.
Today she had to distract Colin while her husband and Link were away in Kakariko, an all-too-quiet rainy morning after such a horrific night. Link had been so dreadfully injured, and Rusl--
Uli bit her cheek, blinking tears away. Colin giggled from her bedroom where he was babysitting Hana.
She let her hands do the work automatically, easing her mind and heart, settling into a familiar, comforting routine. The dough was smooth and bouncy under her hands, a satisfying texture that distracted her enough. She could get her worries out through liberally kneading it, hands and mind so in sync that she hadn't even noticed she'd been abusing the dough for so long the shadows in the house had shifted positions.
Shaking her head, she covered the loaf to let the dough rise, making her way to her children.
The Wildlings
Tilieth stared bemusedly at the ingredients. Her finger bounced from item to item, listing it out loud in an attempt to ensure she had everything. After repeating the word salt four times and staring into the void, she discovered why her brain was short circuiting.
"I forgot flour!" she groaned.
Wait! No, she hadn't forgotten flour, that was literally the most basic ingredient to making bread. She had it somewhere.
One search later, Tilieth had discovered that not only did she have flour, but also shriveled Hylian tomatoes that probably would have benefitted from being eaten a week ago.
Okay. Now she had what she needed.
Excited, she began to mix ingredients, having never made bread before. She wanted to see if she would be any good at baking different kinds of loaves, hoping to try new food and perhaps even share it with her parents and Abel. Her newlywed husband was actually sleeping in for the first time since they'd been married, and she was going to take advantage of it by surprising him.
Rummaging through their kitchen, she paused as she found that she wasn't entirely sure where the measuring cup was. She was certain she had put it in this one cabinet, but...
Ah, wait, her mother had moved it when Til had gotten overwhelmed organizing the new home.
With a triumphant, quiet ha! Tilieth pulled the item in question out and held it up to inspect it happily. She finally had everything she needed.
It wasn't until she was halfway through kneading that she remembered she didn't have a bread knife to cut the loaf that she was halfway through making.
The Princess
Zelda took a steadying breath as she stared at the bowl. Link had been cooking with her and teaching her basic recipes for a while now, and she finally wanted to try something for herself. Her friend and loyal companion was out of town, having gone to Zora's Domain to visit, leaving Zelda to sort out organizing her new home.
This was the first meal she'd ever made alone.
For a moment, she felt heartache at the thought of it. But it only lasted a moment, and instead, she felt eager, excited anticipation bubbling in her chest. No, she no longer was fed by royal chefs, no longer provided provisions by any settlement or outpost they visited. But she was building a new life for herself, and she finally felt like she was regaining her footing in a world that had seemed so empty and foreign a few months ago.
This was more than just baking bread. This was the start of a new chapter, this was her proving to herself that she could do this.
And so she set to work, having researched the recipe meticulously, eager to get every aspect of it right, ready to show herself that she was capable, that nothing was wrong with her, and that if she could piece herself back together, then she could rebuild Hyrule just as well.
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sylvieserene · 3 months
Text
Why are people so defendent of Tom Taylor (DC)? Like people on reddit subs treat him as some sort of Saint incapable of flaws and with top notch flawless writing....I'm actually baffled that people defend actual valid criticism of his Nightwing run with "You are just a chronic hater" , "DickBabs hater" , "Toxic DickKory fan" , some even accusing that you're a LGBTQ+/Liberal thoughts hater 💀
Like guys....he's not a God. He is just a human calm down....
I have never really made a post about him specifically since I like to keep my blog positive but um what's wrong with the fan base??
I recently made a post on reddit discussing the "Wisely and Ethically invested money" Alfred's letter scene of the Nightwing (2016) run by Taylor and ppl are actually telling me I'm the problem since these details don't matter and that I'm an idiot for looking into it? (Some of them don't even clarify why and make pretty bad comparisons/points) Like uh what
You are telling me Dick Grayson , the same guy who turned down a whole rich funding from a shady guy at one point wouldn't care on how Alfred somehow managed to have more money than Bruce Wayne ???? And the only explanation we get is that it was invested WISELY & ETHICALLY?!
Like bro depending on the continuity, Alfred has killed people in his run as a spy in England, he is not too innocent and his definition of morals and ethics can differ ALOT from us.
If TT did act on it other than the bland/low stake stuff he's been doing, we could have had a pretty good stake in the game since that money would matter quite a lot (its too relevant to the plot) and would put Dick into a dilemma on if he should use it or not incase he found out its origins...It would have actually led to Character development...
Like what's wrong in pointing out bad writing? You have to show or atleast show implications for things not just spell it out.... just saying "Character A did good things" isn't enough. You need to show what good things Character A did.
Im genuinely curious as to what exactly is this fan base...and what's wrong with it since....how is this question even dumb?
For people curious on the post, here's the link to it. Feel free to read and share your opinions!
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galaxyquakeflakes · 1 month
Text
A Daughter for a Daughter (7)
*The part of the fic where flashbacks get used liberally!*
Pairing: Neteyam x fem|human OC
Summary: Adapting to these new lives is hard but at least there are nice memories to keep them comforted.
Word Count: 2725
Links: (Previous) (Next)
---
The subsequent days after arriving at the Metkayina village were filled with learning. The first time in the water was less than successful due to the fact that none of the Sully kids could hold their breath as long as the others or that their tails weren’t evolved to help in swimming. Outside of swimming they also needed to learn some finger talk that the other kids used while underwater. And here Neteyam thought that language would have been one of the few things they didn’t need to relearn.
The ocean was beautiful though. All of the animal life that teemed in the depths was so unlike what they were used to in the forest. Of course, they all seemed to love Kiri. Neteyam could never quite place why it was that creatures seemed to love her. Kiri would always say it was just because they liked her better. Maybe that was true, but there had to be a reason.
They learned how to ride the ilu that everyone used to get around. Lo’ak didn’t have much luck the first time around trying to ride one and to be completely fair, neither did Neteyam. He thought it wouldn’t be too different from flying but working to hold on against the pressure of the water was proving to be difficult. Of course Kiri was having no trouble, even Tuk had better results riding!
From what they heard though, Jake wasn’t doing that well either trying to ride a tsurak. That made Neteyam feel a bit better. If their dad, the man who had rode toruk, was having trouble then they didn’t need to feel too bad either.
While they were trying their best to embroil themselves in the culture and ways of the Metkayina, to get his spirits back up after a day of failure Neteyam would take to the skies with Mekul. It was one of the few moments where he could truly be alone. Back up in the sky, flying over the ocean and watching how it lit up with the splashes of sea creatures.
It was also during those moments that his mind would drift to Pixie. It was easy to keep the thoughts at bay when he was training and working but when there was no more work to be done, she crept in.
Looking out over the water, memories would come. Happier times.
They had been younger. Maybe eleven or twelve. It was a hot day in the forest, more so than usual. Neteyam and Pixie had decided to take a swim to help beat the heat. They found one of the deeper rivers and jumped in.
Pixie was having fun swimming underwater and yanking on Neteyam’s tail before swimming away. She could stay underwater longer too thanks to the exopack filtering the oxygen out of the water like a fish. She’d come up cackling and dive back under to get away from him. She was easy to spot thanks to the bright blonde of her sun bleached hair moving through the water like a snake.
She had just come up and yanked his tail again but this time he caught her. 
“Not so fast now huh?”
“Ah! Let me go!” she squealed as he started tickling her sides.
“Not gonna happen bite sized! You pulled my tail one too many times!”
“I give! I give! Stop tickling me!” she was able to say through her laughter. He finally let her go and she splashed him for good measure. “Jerk.”
“I’m the jerk? You’re the one that kept yanking my tail! That can hurt you know.”
“But did you die?”
“That’s it. Get back here.”
“No!” she dove away from him and he went swimming after her down the river.
After some time, when their fingers started to get pruney they laid back, floating on the water, letting the lazy current of the stream take them away. They stared overhead at the canopy of trees. Their hands remained locked so they didn’t drift away from each other. They didn’t say anything, just smiled at the beauty of the world around them and the presence of a friend at their side on such a warm day.
Neteyam sighed, fingering the song chord around his wrist. He hoped Pixie was alright, wherever she was.
---
“Come on! Keep up slowpokes!” Pixie shouted as she ran through the jungle with ease. The recoms behind her were having a hell of at time trying to keep up. She had not been able to outrun someone of the Na’vi since she was a kid. She was able to keep up with Neteyam, Kiri, and Lo’ak just fine but that was only because she pushed herself to get to that point. At her normal speed they would always leave her in the dust.
“Can’t you big military idiots keep up with a teenager? It’s just a forest.” Pixie laughed maniacally as she slipped between a narrow opening between two tree limbs. Sometimes there were perks to being small.
“Come on! Keep it moving!” Pixie shouted back as she took some vines to propel herself across a large gap. One of the recoms tried to copy her but couldn’t get a good grip and slid off, barely catching the trunk of the tree to stop their fall.
“Move it! Move it! Move it!” she tried her best to imitate their gruff military talk, “I do this shit all day long! How you falling behind to someone half your size?”
One of the recoms tried to step where Pixie had stepped but the limb was not strong enough to support someone of his size and he fell off. Pixie stopped fully to laugh. Quaritch caught up in that moment and looked down at the fallen recom with annoyance. “Prager! Get your ass up here!”
Quaritch sighed and turned back to Pixie. “Where are we going kid?”
“Were we supposed to have a destination?” Pixie asked. “I thought you guys just wanted to get used to moving in your bodies.”
“You mean to tell me we’ve just been running around in circles all damn day?”
“I mean…” Pixie shrugged. “Not circles. We’re definitely going deeper into the forest but there’s nothing special about it.”
“This is ridiculous.” Quaritch muttered.
“It’d probably be better if you guys actually committed to the whole full-Na’vi thing and ditched the boots.” she glanced down at their feet. Pixie’s feet had been hardened by years of running around the forest and she trusted herself barefoot more than she did in shoes. “It helps to be able to feel where you are, prepare yourself for where you’re going. Half of being Na’vi is getting in tune with your environment and fine tuning your motor skills to make leaps and climb without having to think about it. This stuff has gotta become second nature if you wanna survive out here.”
Quaritch looked down at his boots and shrugged. “You heard the kid, boots off. We’re going bare.”
The recoms shared a look of mutual displeasure but did as commanded and started shedding their boots and socks. Pixie was worried that they were going to just drop them but instead they tied the laces and slung them over their shoulders. “We’re not leaving any trail that your Na’vi friends can follow.” Quaritch explained.
Any kind of goodwill she thought the gesture might have contained evaporated with his words. Of course their actions weren’t because they respected Eywa. It never would be. Being around these people all the time, people who looked Na’vi, had skewed her perspective a bit. How could people who hated the Na’vi be allowed to be reborn as them? It wasn’t fair! Pixie had spent her whole life wishing that she would have been seen as one of The People. She dedicated her life to the tenets of Eywa and knew in her heart of hearts that Pandora was her one and only home. And yet, these people could pass as Na’vi? They got the chance! It was a sick joke!
Pixie didn’t wait for them to finish and kept going, pushing herself harder to get deeper and deeper into the jungle. Run away. Just keep running!
Pixie’s mind flashed back to another scenario in which she had been running from her problems like this. It was after the big fight she had with Neytiri. If memory served, Pixie was only about twelve or so, maybe thirteen. She had been young. Kiri had accidentally gotten badly hurt while they were roughhousing and Neytiri had finally let all the vitriol she had been keeping quiet spew out.
“Mom! It was just an accident!” Kiri was begging as Neytiri loomed over Pixie. Kiri’s leg was still bleeding profusely. Mo’at was trying to attend to her but Kiri kept trying to get up and stop her mom from tearing into Pixie.
“This is it! This is the last time you come anywhere near my children!” Neytiri shouted at Pixie. “You will stay away from them!”
“Aunt Neytiri, it was just--”
Neytiri swiped at Pixie who had lucked out and just been able to dodge out of the hit. She rolled back to her feet, stance posed and ready to flee. “You are not my family!” Neytiri screamed. “You do not call me that!”
“Hey!” Jake came up, “Neytiri, baby, she’s just a kid--”
“And look what she’s done!” Neytiri threw a hand back at Kiri. “You’ve defended her long enough! She doesn’t belong here! She shouldn’t be here! She needs to go back to her own kind!”
“This is where I belong!” Pixie shouted back. She had always known that Neytiri looked at her like she didn’t belong. She knew that in many of the eyes of the Na’vi that Pixie was not one of them. No one had ever said it to her face though. They had the common curtesy to whisper behind her back.
Pixie was tired. So tired. Tired of pretending like every scornful glance and muttered word didn’t hurt her. But it did. She could dedicate her life to Pandora and Eywa and the Na’vi but unless she sprouted a tail and turned blue that wasn’t going to happen. She’d always be the outsider. And today, she had just had enough of it.
The whole group had frozen. Eyes darted nervously between Neytiri and Pixie.
“Whether you like it or not, this is where I belong.” Pixie said. “I was conceived here. I was born here. I have been raised here. This is the only life I have ever known. There is no other place that I can be! Pandora is my home just as much as it is yours!”
“You think you are one of the People?” Neytiri scowled. “You speak our words but they do not fit your mouth. You are nothing but another one of them! The Sky People! A plague on our great mother!”
“Your life mate is one of the Sky People! Or did you trick yourself into forgetting that? He’s the reason Hometree fell!” The words were unfair. Pixie knew that. It wasn’t Jake’s fault that the humans destroyed Hometree. He tried to warn them against it. Tried to stop them. But it didn’t change the fact that the whole reason he had been brought into the ways of the Na’vi was so he could gain their trust to do just that.
Pixie could see something in Neytiri’s eyes. Predatory. There was something poised on her lips that she wanted to say but something in her had kept it back. If Pixie did so much as breathe Neytiri would have said it. Something awful. Something that would have damaged her beyond repair. Whatever it was, she knew it would have been true. And it would have hurt more than if she had ripped her throat out with her teeth.
The fact Pixie could recognize that made it almost worse. Part of her wanted Neytiri to say it. To finally hear what Pixie had convinced herself wasn’t true.
Before either could pull the trigger to destroy everything, Jake stepped in again. He eased Neytiri off but the damage had been done. Their already splintery relationship had shattered. And everyone was just staring at Pixie. Their faces too sad and uncomfortable to meet her eyes.
She felt like she was going to be sick.
So she turned and ran. She ran as fast as her feet could take her. She just needed to keep running. Needed to get far away. Just keep running. Just keep running!
Pixie’s lungs burned from the effort and her legs were screaming at her to stop but she kept going. Blindly running through the forest until she physically could not keep up anymore. Her feet gave out underneath her mid-sprint and she collapsed to the ground. She huddled on the ground, curled into herself tight like a ball.
She hoped that the ground would swallow her up and take her deep into the core of planet. Take her to Eywa. Anywhere to escape this hurt.
She laid there sobbing on the ground until she felt someone sit next to her. She looked up through her tear filled eyes and fogged mask at Neteyam. He didn’t say anything. Just sat with her, brushing her hair back as she cried herself out. How long had he been following her?
“I’m sorry.” he said after the worst of her crying had subdued. “Mother had no right to say that to you. She was just upset cause Kiri was hurt and--”
“She had every right. I know it’s how she felt. How she’s always felt. I’m not one of the People. I never will be. And she will never accept me.”
“Pixie--”
“We both know it’s true. Don’t try and convince me that it isn’t.”
“I accept you.” He said, hugging her close. “I accept you as one of the People, Pixie. I See you. So does Lo’ak and Tuk and Kiri. You’re family to us.”
“‘Teyam…”
“And you are my best friend.” he squeezed her tighter. “I love you, Pixie. I always have and I always will. It doesn’t matter what mother says. You will always have a place with me.”
More tears poured out of her eyes as she hugged him back. “I love you too.”
After Pixie and Neytiri had calmed down, which took a couple days, they met again and apologies were given. Pixie could tell there was some regret in Neytiri’s eyes but she had still refused to look her directly in the eye. The years since had been them gradually picking up the pieces. They could try to rebuild but it would take nothing short of a miracle for things to ever be good between them.
That felt like a lifetime ago.
Pixie would have given anything to have Neytiri with her again now.
She stopped and looked behind her to see that she had left the recoms very far behind her in her haste to escape her troubled thoughts. It was gonna take them a minute to catch up so she sat down and picked at the dirt under her nails. While she was sitting she noticed an atokirina floating nearby. It came down towards her, rested on her shoulder a minute and then took off again. It was a small reassurance. Eywa was with her, watching over her. She would get through this.
The recoms finally caught up and Pixie sighed. “Took you long enough.”
“You got a lotta lip for someone who can’t afford it.” Quaritch said. “Now, you either take us someplace useful or else. No more running around in circles.”
“Fine. It’s not gonna be easy in those new bodies though.” Pixie stood up and looked around. Without warning she jumped off the tree limb and slowed her descent using the large leaves scattered below. She looked up at where the recoms were waiting, heads cocked trying to figure out how she didn’t die from that jump. “You waiting for an invitation?”
While they figured out how to get down without breaking their necks Pixie scanned the forest, her ears perked and listening intently. She fought the smile that grew on her face when she heard something. It was distant but it may just get these recoms off her back…that is if it didn’t end up killing her too.
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drdemonprince · 1 year
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Dear dr. Price,
A follower pointed out your book Unmasking Autism to me and said it was a life-saver. I have put in on my birthday wishes list.
According to lists on the net, I am supposed to reflect on whether I am behaving in a way that is aims at others' needs or my own and so on. This is precisely my problem. I am closer to 50 than to 40 and have probably been masking for over 40 years. How can I know what type of behaviour is learnt? What is ingrained? Is it possible that I have passed the window where I can still find natural conduct?
If you could see your way clear to answer my concern, I should be much obliged.
Kind regards,
Maarten
Hi Maarten!
Thank you so much for your question. While I understand deeply the desire to try and sort out which elements of yourself are naturally you and which elements are learned behaviors linked to a lifetime of trauma, in actuality there is no separating them. There is only one you. You have only lived one life, and it was the (at times very challenging and invalidating) life that you had. Humans are social beings, it almost makes as little sense to thing of humans in individual terms as it does to discuss ants without talking about colonies. Who we are is social, interpersonal, relational, and interactive.
The good news about that, however, is that who we are and how we feel can change, so long as our circumstances do. To some degree, masking and inhibition may always feel natural to you. I've been utterly fixated on unmasking both personally and professionally for years now, and while I've opened up a lot and learned many communication skills, my default mode of operating is still always to clench up. I will probably carry that reflex inside me for all of my life. That reflex has helped me. That reflex has saved me a great many times. It's just also hurt me and cost me a ton. And these days I try to accept all of that, and accept myself as the mutable, fragile, self-protective, sensitive being that I am.
I think it is far easier to focus on small behaviors and desires (and not-desires) than it is to worry too much about who we "really are" who we "would have been" in a completely alternate reality where we hadn't suffered the experiences that we have. Thinking about a fully liberated and unfiltered alternate self is enticing, I fantasize about who I'd have been in a better world all the time, but that person does not exist, and never did, and never ever would have.
Neurotypical are harmed by neuro-conformity pressures too. Capitalism, white supremacy, and the gender binary restrict how all people behave today pretty severely. Nobody lives fully free right now. This might sound bleak, but it's also a fact that unites us, and thinking about it gives me some hope. It helps me realize that I'm not uniquely boxed inside myself and separated from other people -- I'm suffering from the exact same forces that all people do, just in my own way.
I'm not uniquely broken. Neither are you. But we are irrevocably shaped by our life experiences. Instead of trying to change who we are, or find some inner true self, which is a daunting task, I think that instead, we can just practice saying no to things that make us uncomfortable, asking for the changes to our environment that we do need in order to feel comfortable, sharing what we feel, and taking time regularly to take stock of our lives and figure out what it is that we want and we wish for. It starts small.
Little phrases like "I don't like that," "I don't feel good," "I'm not interested in talking about that," "I'm going to go do something else," "Here's what i believe," "I don't agree with you," "I really need [thing]," and "I want to build a life with more room for [thing] in it" are some places to start. Truly, the more you get in the practice of saying such things, the better you get at noticing how you are feeling, and the more feelings and wants and not-wants you become able to self advocate for. It's not about becoming a new person, or throwing off the mask in one go. It's a skill, and anyone can develop a skill. You might as well make the rest of your life better. No amount of suffering in the past condemns you to needing to feel shitty about your desires forever.
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idk if im late but 129 and ladrien!
Don't worry, you are definitely not late, I am still taking prompts!
So funny story with this one, I went to figure out which song 129 was, and it ended up being Noah Kahan's Stick Season, which I really love, but also is potentially very angsty. And after already writing Ladrien angst, I really wanted to write something lighter
So I turned this option into a wildcard, and after using the random number generation to find a different playlist and song number, I got... Stick Season again kasfdskljgsdkljsd
I told myself that if I got it a third time than I should probably just bite the bullet and do it, but I did not get it a third time
So now... here is Ladrien with Leave a tender moment alone by Billy Joel!
This drabble is fluff with some light mutual pining, hope you enjoy!
ao3 link
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Even Though I'm in Love Sometimes, I Get So Afraid
With the gentle caress of moonlight dancing across the surface of the soft features of her lovely face, Adrien couldn’t help but feel his heart get stuck in his throat. 
He couldn’t quite remember how he had gotten here, sitting at night, on a park bench, next to the love of his life, the revered and perfect Ladybug.
He could only remember how his evening began. Sneaking out of his bedroom window in a desperate attempt to escape the oppressive isolation of his house. 
Regardless of how he had gotten there, regardless of how she had shown up, regardless of how he had convinced her to stay and sit with him, the entire moment still felt like a blur, and he was only grateful of the warmth of her presence beside him and of the opportunity to spend time with her.
The silence that stretched between them, felt wrong and unnatural. The space that surrounded them was inexplicably charged, and he felt as though something needed to be said, or else whatever fragile thing resided in this moment would break.
The only problem was, his mind was completely absent of any and all thought of what to say to her. 
If he were Chat Noir, dressed in the liberating masquerade of his costume, what to say would be easy. He would level her a carefully thought up pun or joke and watch as she received it with either a wrinkled nose or a tinkling laugh. 
Of course, the trouble with this was that he was not Chat Noir. He was Adrien Agreste. Model. Perfect son. Person who is definitely not Chat Noir and therefore should not be acting like him.
Still, the urge to make conversation and to make said conversation light, dogged him. And before he could think too much about it, he was clearing his throat and opening his mouth to speak. 
“Um.. so anything you were hoping to spot while in the park tonight?” He asked, poking lightly a spot on her shoulder.
For a long moment she said nothing, only blinked at him owlishly, with her mouth slightly open in surprise. 
Adrien’s stomach fluttered anxiously. He had ruined things. He was sitting here with her, actually getting to spend some time with his lady, and he just had to go and put his foot in his mouth and mess everything up. 
She was going to think he was weird. She was going to walk away in disgust. She was going to hate him. Worse yet, she was going to find out his identity, then reject him again, and then follow the aforementioned steps.
She would never speak to him again, all because of a stupid, mindless joke. 
The internal spiraling going on in Adrien’s mind, was disrupted by the calming sound of sweet giggling. 
A warm, balm-like sensation coursed through Adrien’s blood as he registered Ladybug’s laughter and the fact that she hadn’t been bothered by his joke. 
He let out a soft chuckle of relief that fell in tandem with her lingering laugh.
“Well you see, I actually came here because of you–” She started and then abruptly cut herself off, seeming to realize what she had said. Her eyes rounded comically and her face turned a shade not at all dissimilar from her mask.
“--not that I was stalking you or anything. I–I was just finishing off patrol, when I saw you sitting here, and you looked alone and I thought that maybe you could use some company. Of course, that was really presumptuous of me, and maybe I invaded your private time, and I-I-I I’m sorry, I can just leave you alone.”
She made a slight move to get up, but Adrien was not quite ready for her to go yet. He placed a hand on both her arms, with just enough pressure for her not to miss it, but light enough for her to easily walk away if she wanted to.
“I-I’m sorry Adrien.” She said, her eyes failing to meet his and her cheeks still remaining a heated red.
Adrien was confused at her reaction. Had he given some indication that he wanted her to go? Did something happen that he had missed?
No sooner did the confusion come, than did a clarifying thought.
Wait, was she nervous too?
The reassuring, bright smile that he gave her, was surely colored in his current giddiness and relief. 
“Ladybug, please stay. I am honored that you chose to join me, and I am really grateful that you noticed me sitting here. Honestly, I had a pretty rough day and I needed to get out of the house, but just you being here and sitting with me has made me feel better in more ways than you know. Thank you.” He gave her the last thank you with a squeeze of her hands.
Ladybug’s answering tender smile was worth the slithering anxiety he had faced when speaking openly to her. 
“I’m glad I was able to help. You know, I don’t really have anywhere to be right now. If you’d like, we can just sit here together until you’re feeling better. Does that sound like a good idea?”
“That sounds perfect.” 
Adrien leaned back onto the bench and soaked in the feeling of belonging and togetherness that only she ever really made him feel. 
For the first time that night, Adrien no longer felt the pressure to speak. He could just leave things alone and enjoy the moment together.
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Thank you so much for the ask! <3
Request a lovesquare side and a number from my playlist for a drabble!
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