#ACID Transactions

[rajaniesh]

Unveiling the Power of Delta Lake in Microsoft Fabric

Discover how Microsoft Fabric and Delta Lake can revolutionize your data management and analytics. Learn to optimize data ingestion with Spark and unlock the full potential of your data for smarter decision-making.

In today’s digital era, data is the new gold. Companies are constantly searching for ways to efficiently manage and analyze vast amounts of information to drive decision-making and innovation. However, with the growing volume and variety of data, traditional data processing methods often fall short. This is where Microsoft Fabric, Apache Spark and Delta Lake come into play. These powerful…

[gleecus-techlabs-blogs]

ACID properties encompass a set of crucial characteristics that ensure the reliability and consistency of transactions within a database system. They are the four fundamental rules for a successful transaction in any database, forming the basis for testers when devising their test plan. ACID stands for:

Atomicity, Consistency, Isolation, and Durability

[elodieunderglass]

hello elodie. please enjoy this high expression of grass fandom in the form of an entire chapter on cricket pitch grass : link dot springer dot com / chapter / 10.1007 / 978-981-99-2913-9_6 what do you think the funniest alternative cricket pitch groundcover would be

Article here: https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1007/978-981-99-2913-9_6

This was published in Springer Transactions in Civil and Environmental Engineering. The article's abstract starts off with a completely new series of words:

One of the main reasons for a fast and bouncy wicket is uniform, deep-rooted grass growth in turf pitches. 

It has long been understood that academic language makes all things preternaturally serious, and writing in this style conveys things with accuracy and precision. It is also well-known that any description of cricket, whether oral or written, is almost impossibly silly. Writing about cricket in academic terms instantly creates a sort of battery-acid cocktail! The "fast and bouncy wicket" spontaneously reacts with the seriousness of the premise, and curdles, instantly. I think everyone should drink this.

After reading the abstract alone I genuinely can't recommend another plant for cricket pitches. The considerations are hyper-intersectional, they're intersectional on dimensions I can't even comprehend, there are factors reaching into the seventh dimension of spacetime. We have to consider so many factors: pace, bounce, spring, tension, wickets, stickiness. I can talk about rhizomes, but I am utterly undone by cricket. You can explain to me the difference between a googly and a doosra as a form of psychological torture and I will simply look up at you, like a weasel in a trap, saying back to you, "I will escape from this and learn nothing." What other groundcover should we plant for cricket pitches? I am already gone. I am leaving. I have evaporated from this place by transposing my molecules. I think we should pave cricket pitches in trampoline material

[chaifootsteps]

honestly at this point you could pair the top infruriating lines ranking with a Stolas' worst nightmare faces ranking

for me if I was limiting it to 5 I'd probably go

5 a lot of times when he smiles honestly, but this one probably captures it best: https://64.media.tumblr.com/10aeb49593e61509e8323a88da033558/68b71969e02cbedc-8b/s2048x3072/2da1cd043e3d6b3b9a1617ad1b3e4a4fa5ca7e28.pnj

4 the 'and not the voice that says I'm not enough!' reflection shot in the bathtub in the full moon duet. I just don't understand what they were going for in that shot - maybe that Stolas is hanging on by a thread or something? it's way too far though so it just comes off creepy

3 cheating with this one but most of the angry expressions Stolas pulls in the apology tour argument; it's just nonstop unlikeability from him from start to finish. the amount of anger he displays is just so at odds with the situation - he's acting like Blitz chewed him out and rejected him out of nowhere despite the only "relationship" they ever had being a transactional fucking that he coerced Blitz into because he had all the power. the angry smile when Blitz says relationships are boring is a contender but I also hate this frame: https://64.media.tumblr.com/72a12feaf6e439d0670756e1057b93b9/e4822d8fca271cfc-fc/s1280x1920/c4d4bae33f4ca1387e1409f259a9784538b2e5bd.jpg

Also the little flappy hands when he implies the class difference is all in Blitz's head (way to gaslight), the bit where he snaps at him about sounding like Striker (the accompanying line makes that one worse) and the petty delivery on 'your freshest ex' (he's not your ex, Stolas, not even close)

Like way to make him such a petty jerk I'm cheering for Blitz even harder

2 this frame: https://64.media.tumblr.com/306e7f801fff142d57bee633abdfa9c6/90d50e1d22f5b44b-e8/s400x600/c03e4f8a2f96de0cc9c7add6749cc1e367187d90.jpg - less for Stolas' face and more that they decided to include this in a montage where the viewer is supposed to feel bad for Stolas. I dare anyone to look at Blitz's expression and that shot as a whole and not see it as the creators capturing a moment immediately after Blitz was SA'd (and Stolas clearly wants to force him into more sex he doesn't want, going by that pose and 'pity me' smile). fun acid test, actually - I'd love to know what people who don't know the show would guess is going on here. so yup, the context bumps it all the way up to #2 for me

honorary mentions: the 'passionate fornication' line (only not including it on the list proper because Stolas was an antagonist then, intentionally) and also

1 "I'm not turning her against you, Stellaaah!' coupled with that awful look on his face as he pants angrily down the phone while squeezing the life out of his butler. for me this is #1 because it really sums up all the problems with Stolas as a character within a single frame

Thank you for this comprehensive and informative list, Anon. My blood pressure was a little low and this nudged it right back up to where it ought to be.

[pink-heart-jam]

10 must-read Yakuza BL

Yakuza stories have been my jam for many years now, and some of the most iconic BLs I’ve read in the past decade and a half are within this genre. Exquisite art style, adult romance, complex plots, smoking hot tattoos, high stakes! I love everything about this unique combo that makes it so hard to replicate. Any other hardcore fans around? Come and spread the love for these gems!

Acid Town by Kyugo (M)

In a city where the law has been rendered non-existent, Yuki and his best friend Tetsu break into the offices of the Seidoukai in a desperate attempt to finance his ailing brother's hospital bills. They ultimately fail but not without sparking the interest of the mob's young leader, Kazutaka Hyodo, who offers Yuki a deal he can't refuse.

Afterglow by Wagase wagimoko (E)

Higuchi Seitaka was on his way to becoming an elite cardiovascular surgeon after graduating from medical school. Yet, just before getting his specialty qualification, he was sent off to a remote rural town in Kyushu. Feeling dejected by what he sees as his sudden demotion, Higuchi spends his evenings drowning his sorrows, until one night, yakuza "Tenjun" rescues him.

Bi No Isu | Kobi no Kyoujin by ike reibun (E)

Kabu and Nirasawa have a troubled relationship, to say the least. Harsh yakuza lifestyle, torture, and violent sex are everyday occurrences for the volatile couple.

Canis series by Zakk (M)

Satoru has gotten himself into a bit of a pickle. He’s a successful hatter and has planned a big event for his store’s third anniversary, but he’s short on staff and his remaining employees are threatening mutiny is he can’t find a temporary worker by tomorrow. Luckily, he practically trips over Ryou, a young man who’s in need of a place to crash.

Jealousy by Scarlet Beriko (E)

A yakuza head finds himself ensnared in the unwavering attentions of a sometimes impetuous but always cunning schemer. If being yakuza doesn’t get him killed, his new lover just might!

Musunde, Hodoite, Kiss wo Shite by Emi Mitsuki (M)

Itabashi, who runs a tailor shop in a downtown shopping district, reunites with his classmate from middle school, Adachi, in the worst possible way. Adachi is now part of the yakuza, and he's here to run Itabashi out of his shop and redevelop the entire area.

NightS & Sequel by Yoneda Kou (E)

A yakuza comes to request the services of an specialized transporter that takes care of delicate and illegal merchandise. It seems this transporter is quite picky about his clients, however he gets interested in this transaction and in the mysterious man that is negotiating it.

Nights Before Night by Kazuki Natsume (E)

It's been a long time since Haru, owner of the gay escort service "Rain," left his yakuza days behind. But when the Ichijo clan says he's the only civilian they can trust to hide the clan head's troublemaking son Yukitaka, there seems to be no choice for him but to follow suit.

Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai by Yoneda Kou (E)

The masochistic, lewd and beautiful yakuza Yashiro and his silent, clumsy, impotent subordinate, Doumeki. This is the story of a man who has never known happiness and of a man who is reborn by getting to know him.

Syunrai to Mitsu by Retsujyo (E)

Yuen was abandoned by his parents and taken to an orphanage. His only support was Yan, who was like an older brother. Yan also cherished Yuen like his younger brother, but one night, a cruel incident that separates them occurs.

[magicalgirlmascot]

Jaller Mahri meets Krakua at a supermarket while the latter is stressed abt something and his mask of Sonar gets him smacked full force by the Panic Frequencies so hard he ends up knocked out on the floor of the produce isle

Jaller tugged the ends of his sleeves down further over his wrists. The store was always freezing, especially in the summer when they cranked the air conditioning, but it was a good excuse to wear his jacket. The scale patterns on the backs of his wrists were easy enough to hide with sweatbands at school or during field hockey practice, but the grocery store had a stupidly strict uniform dress code. He just had to keep a close eye on his sleeves and hope for the best.

There was a dull ache in his head, pounding through his skull. It had been slowly building over the last forty-five minutes, but he couldn't do much besides grit his teeth and push through it. It was the Friday before a long weekend. The store was busier than it had been all week. There was no way his manager would let him take a few minutes to pop a couple ibuprofen when it was this jam-packed. Never mind that he was the hardest-working cashier they had, and that he hadn't originally been scheduled for this shift, and that he was working three hours and forty-five minutes which was just enough time that he didn't get any breaks at all but still had to basically work four hours. This place sucked.

Wordlessly, he started scanning the next customer's groceries. Normally he tried to give better customer service--at least a hello or good morning if nothing else--but today he couldn't bring himself to. If anyone had a problem with that they could deal with his stupid manager. His head throbbed in time with the tinny music being pumped through the store's shitty speakers. There was a vague, almost electric buzzing in the back of his head, a high pitched ringing in his ears. Probably the source of his headache, honestly. Did no one else hear this? How was no one else losing their minds?

Wait a second. Jaller's head snapped up from his mindless scanning. His new sonar power. That had to be what was causing the problem, right? He bit his lip, turning away to get a sticker for the customer's case of water bottles. It was getting worse. That had to mean whatever was causing it was getting closer. He lifted his head and scanned the crowd. No one stood out on the surface of it. People were loud, as usual, and the longer he took dealing with his line the grouchier the people in it looked. But the Piraka had looked mostly normal until you looked at them closely, and it didn't rule out any invisible bad guys. Or just Nuparu, but why he'd be sneaking around a crowded grocery store in the middle of the afternoon was beyond him.

"Hey. Hey!"

Jaller's head throbbed as he blinked at the person in front of him. The customer--a middle-aged woman he should probably recognize but didn't--had a deep scowl on her face, turning her credit card over in her fingers. "I'm in a hurry, here," she said, her voice dripping with acid.

The ringing got louder. Jaller clenched his teeth. "That's $42.73," he gritted out. "Do you have a loyalty card?"

He rushed her through the rest of the transaction and started scanning the next person through. This one was a fairly young guy, younger than Mr. Tahu at least (Tahu, it was just Tahu now, he wasn't Jaller's teacher anymore and that was weird). He looked like he was going to shake himself apart at the seams. There was something off about him. Jaller couldn't put his finger on what, just...something weird. His smile was strained, but so was Jaller's, so it probably wasn't that.

The sound got louder, more insistent, and it wasn't just a ringing anymore. Now it was a full brass section warming up. Jaller pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, but that just made things so so so much worse.

"Hey, are you okay?" the man asked.

He couldn't avoid it anymore. He had to know. Keeping his hands over his eyes so no one would see them glow, Jaller sent out a pulse of his sonar.

What he got back was an absolute cacophony. Alarms and instruments and insects and horns and rumbling and ringing and

When Jaller blacked out, his last thought was that he might finally get some silence.

[wisteria-cherry]

forty days and forty nights (day nine!)

(woahh day nine look at us go!!)

(read them all here!)

the next day at work, which was a saturday, you found yourself especially looking forward to bakugo’s appearance. you felt like you’d become friends with him— real, actual friends— after going to the party with him and kirishima. it was incredibly exciting.

you didn’t have many friends. it’s not like you minded; you liked being able to make your own plans and have time to yourself. but you were always accepting of new friends, particularly those that were your age— most of your current friends (more like close acquaintances) were twice as old as you, maybe even three or four times. so when you got home last night from the party, you were positively glowing, a rush of excitement washing over you (it helped that all of your new friends seemed like the type who were incredibly popular in high school; the kind of people everyone wanted to be around. and pro heroes. that helped too.) mina had actually texted you, asking you to hang out the following wednesday, which you happily agreed to.

you were snapped out of your thoughts by the familiar chime of the sweet little bells that announced the arrival of a customer. bakugo was grumbling, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he entered.

“are you doing alright?” you asked, already ringing him up.

“just fuckin’ exhausted.” he muttered. “make it a large today.”

“okay.” you hum, voiding the transaction and finding it the tiniest bit irksome that the one day you don’t ask for his order is the one day he changes it. you quickly brushed the feeling away. what a dumb thing to be irked by. “go ahead and sit down, it’ll be right out.” bakugo grunted an annoyed “don’t tell me what to do”, but obliged.

“is it from the party last night?” you ask as you hand him his coffee, which he promptly takes a drink from.

“yeah. those fuckers wouldn’t shut up in the group chat after it was over.” bakugo tched.

“ah, they must have kept you up, then.” you said sympathetically.

“no shit.”

“hey, speaking of, is mina a pro hero, too?”

“yeah.”

“what’s hero hero name? and her quirk?” you pressed.

“her quirk’s acid, and her hero name’s pinky.” he answered somewhat reluctantly.

“so do you call all your friends by their hero names?” you immediately regretted asking. after all, bakugo called kirishima shitty hair.

“hell no.” bakugo scoffed. “i called her pinky in high school and she made it her damn hero name after her first pick was rejected.”

“what was her first pick?” you ask curiously.

“alien queen or some dumb shit like that.”

“was dynamight your first pick?”

“no. they rejected my first two.” bakugo scowled, recalling the memory darkly.

“what were they?”

“lord explosion murder and king explosion murder.” you stared at him, dumbfounded.

it sounds exactly like your current one!! you wanted to scream, but you were too busy holding in your laughter.

“if you laugh, i’ll kill you.” bakugo hissed.

“i’m— i’m not laughing.” you managed to say between gasps, holding your hand to your mouth to block any sounds from coming out.

“i can see your shoulders shaking!” bakugo shouted.

“they’re not!” you didn’t even try to make your lie sound convincing.

“yes they are!”

“okay, okay, changing the subject now,” you snickered. “where did you go to high school?”

“hah?” bakugo seemed almost offended that you didn’t know what high school he went to. “ua. the best hero school.”

“i went to middle school with someone who went there, i think.” you mused airily. bakugo narrowed his eyes.

“who?”

“his name was monoma. neito monoma?” you guessed, not quite knowing his full name. bakugo immediately looked irked.

“that asshole…” he seethed.

“yeah, he had an ego to him.” you reminisced. “but there was this girl who always managed to subdue him.”

“they were annoying as fuck. they were in class b.” he spat.

“were you in class b?”

“hell no!” bakugo seemed offended at this also. “i was in class a. the best.”

“ahh, right.” you nodded as though this were obvious from the start.

“shut up.” bakugo grumbled, taking another sip of his coffee.

“so how was work?” you decide to change the subject. you were having to do this an awful lot today, you noticed. he seemed especially grumpy.

“tiring as shit.” he tched.

“did you get any villains?” you smiled. you figured that if he was feeling down, an ego boost would make him feel better. he looked up from his coffee. you had him hooked.

“…yeah.” he answered. “yeah, i did.”

“how many?” now he grinned that vicious grin of his that could, frankly, be borderline sadistic.

“twelve. beat their asses. they didn’t even stand a chance.” he boasted.

“obviously.” you smiled, leaning against the counter, “because you’re the number one hero.”

“you’re damn right i am.” bakugo smirked. “one of ‘em tried to flee like a little bitch when he found out i was gonna beat his ass.”

“did he really?” you laugh. “you’ve got quite the reputation, then.”

“damn right i do.” you found yourself smiling as bakugo answered. sure, his ego was more blown up than the villains he’d encountered today, but you were happy he was at least feeling better. “i’m number one, ain’t i?”

“that you are.” you confirm. bakugo downed the rest of his coffee.

“yeah, well, i’ve gotta go.” he stood up. he narrowed his eyes and looked away, scowling. “thanks for the coffee, i guess.”

ah, he thanked you.

“of— of course.” you stammer, not expecting him to actually thank you but recovering quickly nonetheless.

“yeah, whatever.” bakugo turned to leave, then looked back at you briefly. he didn’t say a word, but you smiled and waved. he scoffed, looking annoyed. but he waved back, and you could see the barest trace of a smile tugging at his lips.

“are you doing alright?”

“just fuckin’ exhausted.”

<- previous next->

(feel free to comment + leave ur thoughts :)

tags: @k0z3me @cherryblossomclarity

[wrenramblings]

Troubled Kids

a poem

TW for references to self-harm and suicide

When I was young for some reason I think for comfort I used to read terrible stories about children doing terrible things to themselves.

Like comparing two blackberries for creep of mold I would dissect the psyches of these children and rummage for neural fragments resembling my own—

look, here, a boy fifteen years old drowned in his bathtub of his own volition and I, too, fourteen at the time occasionally sat in the bath dissolving in acid by my own hand

or a young girl thirteen years old fancied the silver in her household the safety pins and, god forbid, the knives like a rag-doll she tore through her clumsy stitches again and again just to persuade the night: look, believe me, I am red.

Back home where every morning I crept through cobwebs to the bathroom, I dashed the curtain over to hide the tub from view; you see, the boy must have drowned in my bathtub I read all about it, my tub is haunted by him.

Downstairs in the tremor of terror I walked swiftly past the kitchen knives (general use items there was nothing I could do to cover them up) and although the girl certainly ripped at her seams with the old kitchen steel, the knives weren’t haunted yet— even then I knew.

I was not a troubled kid I knew lightning and her subsequent bellow as April knew rain

I was not afraid of the dark I did not understand its purpose but I knew its place.

Then girlhood like forbidden fruit and now the world is made of transactions and forewarnings— thunder means hole up dark means strike flint

yes there will be wonder first you must pay in whatever you can bear to part with, pray it is not yourself.

And that is the story, that is how all of us become troubled kids, that is how I picked up a blade and used it and did not reroute my fury kindly like a wayward traveler but beckoned it into the maw—

and deep in the blue briars and thickets of night, that is why we slice ourselves open from belly to throat: just to hear ourselves do it.

Just to convince the troubled kids of the forest:

look, believe me, I am red.

[lovetransaction]

Smiling makes more sense to Dean than any of the long meaningful therapizing looks that Sam keeps giving him or, god help him, Bobby's schtick about how being a Hunter means not being a person. Dean still feels like a person, just a fucked-to-hell one who can't stop seeing the long line of his inadequacies straight out the door and on till sunrise. Frank might not know him but Frank knows ... something, about what it's like, about your biggest life loss coming at age twenty-six and the one-foot-in-front-of-the-otherness of everything that comes after.

Frank's also something new and a little odd but Dean doesn't mind odd when it comes with a never-ending parade of pet names that are rolled in that sour candy coating so they're just this side of cloying, a little sarcasm to take the sugar off. He's not into psychedelics much but with Frank he's curious about the old guy's bag of tricks, so he says fuck it one time and drops acid with the geezer. It's, predictably, odd; Frank spools on and on about his routine and all the steps he's employed to keep on truckin' and by the time he's giving Dean that shiatsu massage he'd mentioned, Dean's still curious so he leans into it.

Twelve minutes later he's not altogether sure if his tianshu meridian is any better for the way Frank's rolling his knuckles against Dean's stomach, but sixteen minutes after that, Frank's fucking him nicer than a lot of people do and Dean mumbles, "i'm the one paying you, y'know," and Frank stares at him with one hand cupped at the base of Dean's skull and says, "listen, poodle, at our level of transaction nothing's a one-way street so lie back and let me get my kicks," and that sounds reasonable enough so Dean sinks his hips back further in the cot and lets it all be easy, for once, easy as it gets for somebody like him. His head jostles a little in the cup of Frank's palm with each rolling thrust and Dean opens and closes his mouth and looks up at the ceiling and doesn't see Amy's face and her cat eyes, or Bobby's face and his sadness, or anything at all. Maybe fire, rolling in. Maybe not. "Mom," he says, experimentally, and Frank slows for a minute, then gently moves his hand from behind Dean's head and covers his eyes with it.

"Thank you," Dean rasps. Frank doesn't say anything. His thumb sweeps along Dean's forehead once, twice. Sweet one way and sour the other.

---

going to lebanon : flash creations

[o-lanterns]

memo to my stomach this is a one-way transaction. keep the change. all of the acid can stay inside you forever I promise. please understand.

[pie-of-flames]

Beatles Asks - 3, 7 and 13 please!

I'm gonna do these separately because it's a lot.

3. What’s your opinion on The Beatles wives?

This is a very broad topic.

Cynthia: I read Cynthia’s book John: A Biography. Of course, any book like this has to be take with a grain of salt, assuming some level of self-interest and faulty memories. Even so, my heart really goes out to her after reading this. I believe she and John were truly in love. The pics of them together are always really cute. But I kind of doubt they would have married if she hadn’t gotten pregnant. Either John fell out of love or was too fucked up in general, or his mental issues were exacerbated by Beatlemania and later, heavy drug use, for the marriage to last long. He neglected Cyn and Julian horribly and was a gigantic asshole. For example, he hounded her to take acid and then, when she finally did and had a bad trip, he completely neglected her and left her alone to suffer. She says she even considered suicide during that trip. And don’t even get me started on the divorce. He really mistreated her. Granted, he was probably emotionally incapable of treating her with humanity, given his mental health issues. But he was just horrible and acted unforgivably.

Pattie: I also read the George part of Pattie’s book, Wonderful Tonight. She seems fine. I don’t have any feelings about her one way or another. They’re cute together. Both she and George were so young then. George was a shit near the end, of course.

Yoko: You know, who really knows what was going on between her and John? I do think they were genuinely in love. But I also think, in May 1968 when they got together, the relationship offered transactional benefits to both of them. She obviously wanted to snag a Beatle and become famous. She’d been stalking John for a pretty long time. And John desperately needed a “guru” to give he life structure and focus. He was really flailing after India, clearly in mental distress after losing Brian (and Whatever Happened In India™ which may have involved John feeling like he’d lost Paul somehow) and doing huge amounts of acid again. (Enter my theory that he had borderline personality disorder where you latch on to an Important Person to provide your identity.) Both of them were all on board with a codependent, all-consuming relationship. She doesn't seem like a particularly nice person, what with the stories about her ordering around Apple employees like they were her personal servants. She also seems very manipulative, but then again, so was John. Personally, I cannot stand her "singing" (I study classical singing, so...it's just painful to listen to.)

Skipping to the seventies, my impression is John wanted Yoko to control his life and she did,         although they also seemed to enjoy playing power games with each other. I don’t know why he went back to her after the Lost Weekend, but I assume part of it was a need to give up control to another person. It’s hard to tell if they were still in love in the seventies. I would love to find out what was really going on between them in this period because there’s such a drastic difference in opinions, like “happy, bread baking house husband” narrative vs. “depressed, in bed getting high and watching TV” all the time narrative.

Linda: I do think there was a bit of the starfucker in her but she and Paul were obviously in love and devoted to each other, as far as we can tell. No other thoughts. I don't really know much about her. I’m grateful for all her photos of Paul. :)

Later Paul wives: no opinion, I don’t know enough.

Olivia: same. I'm glad she and George were able to have Dhani.

[best-reviews-usa]

Prodentim Reviews - Prodentim Complaints? Prodentim Reviews Consumer Reports

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Important Moments in the Video:

00:00 Prodentim Review

00:53 Prodentim Official Website

01:24 What is Prodentim?

01:39 What Is The Best Way To Use Prodentim?

01:52 Prodentim Formula

02:11 Prodentim Benefits

02:35 Does Prodentim Work?

03:01 Prodentim Guarantee

03:37 Prodentim Reviews Conclusion

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[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag and the fun questions @mk-writes-stuff!

OC Question Game

My questions:

What is the weirdest thing you’ve ever watched someone do?

How do you usually talk to customer service workers?

What’s the most bizarre dream you’ve ever had?

I'll be ambitious for this and go with the extended Mortal God cast

.

1) What is the weirdest thing you’ve ever watched someone do?

Astra: "I saw some dickhead alchemist strip down to swim in the N'Diki swamp once. When I asked 'im why he'd do such a braindead thing, he jus' said the 'natural salts were fixin' to balance 'is humors.' I reckon the only thing the dumb bastard ended up gettin' balanced was his parasite to blood ratio."

Mashal: "I swear I've seen Astra pull a vial of acid out of her bra, use it to melt solid iron, then put it back."

Ivander: "In some distant corners of Unity, where the factory runoff meets the alchemical waste among the canals, fish speak to you. I swear it on my good name."

Elsind: "There was this spit-turner girl I knew once who took her tea with molasses. ...Maybe that's not so weird now that I think about it."

Avymere: "I watched a man die of fright once. I didn't think that was possible."

2) How do you usually talk to customer service workers?

Astra: "I try to be a little stranger n' normal. In an entertainin' way, ya know? Give 'em somethin' to chat about over lunch break."

Mashal: "Always treat a person of the lowest station as you would a person of the highest. It's the honorable thing to do."

Ivander: "It's a transaction. I don't want to be there. They don't want to be there. No need to pretend this is anything more."

Elsind: "I always get so nervous! I don't want to be rude, or make their lives more difficult. What if I'm a bad customer?"

Avymere: "Always make a point to be polite to the person who delivers your food, or else who knows what else may be delivered with it. Servants hold the lives of nobility in their hands. Ill-treated servants act on this."

3) What’s the most bizarre dream you’ve ever had?

Astra: "There was this one night - I'd had a touch too much to drink and maybe a lil' somethin' besides - when I went to sleep, only to find myself dreamin' 'bout fallin' asleep. Again and again, I'd dream about fallin' asleep, only to start another dream 'bout fallin' asleep. It was damn trippy is what it was. Last time I touch alchemist-blend kishra."

Mashal: "I don't sleep, so, uh, do I just make something up? I dreamt once that I was riding a horse, only to remember I can't ride a horse, even though I definitely know how in real life. ...Never mind, that was stupid."

Ivander: "There was this one dream I had where I was a soldier sent to fight a great bear. It slashed one of my companion's eyes, so we took snow off the ground to numb the wound. Except, the bear came back, so we had to leave him behind. The last thing I can recall was looking back at the blind man, snow covering his eyes, as he felt his way towards death in all its slavering glory."

Elsind: "I had a dream once that I was an elf. My face was always one thing, and it never slipped. My body was so rigged and stiff. I could only breathe and see and hear out of my face. It felt awful, which was... reassuring in a way."

Avymere: "When I was a child, I had a reoccurring dream about climbing a mountain. It was summer like summer never is in Skysheer - all flowers and buzzing bees, rather than melty frost and rain. I've rarely seen such balmy weather in my life, so I wonder why my subconscious decided to paste it over my home."

.

Tagging @frostedlemonwriter @kaylinalexanderbooks @somethingclevermahogony @wordfather and anyone else who wants to play :)

Your questions are:

What's your favorite legend and why?

How do you celebrate your birthday?

What's something you'd regret if you died without doing?

[tips-from-john]

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[enaelyork]

BLEU - WIP [New version] Thrawn x F! OC

ISB agent - Undercover - Forbidden Love - Tarkin's daughter - Past love, new passion - Lover to ennemie to lover - DNI +18

— You will accompany her.

— No.

My tongue was faster than my mind and, for once, in perfect harmony with it. Yularen, for his part, is clearly not satisfied with my answer and, from where I am standing, I can see his mustache twitching in annoyance. I might feel guilty for standing up to my direct boss like that, but I'm too busy trying to get out of the mess he's put me in. He's going to have to put up with my whims.

— There's no way he's coming with me. - Why ?

Because it's him.

Because I was madly in love with this man and I am no longer so convinced that I buried my feelings with my old life.

Maybe also because he asked me not to marry Erwin, that I did it anyway before his eyes and that the expression he had then still haunts me years later? A whole bunch of excellent reasons that I don't see myself sharing with my boss, even less so when the person concerned is right there, in front of me.

— Because a marine has no place in an undercover mission.

I am pitiful. I think as I listen to my absurd argument. It fits anywhere. A guy like him, who manages to rise this high in the military hierarchy in just a few years can go wherever he wants. He knows it, in fact he doesn't even glance at me when he decides to answer me.

— It's not for you to judge.

We kissed five years ago. I can still feel his hands on my skin and his warm voice asking me not to get married. The same voice that rebuffs me with a coldness that could convince anyone that he has never touched me in his life and that he has as much interest in me as in a Bantha. Impassive, stiff as a pole firmly planted in the ground, his feet firmly anchored to the ground like the good soldier that he is, he analyzes the slightest of our reactions like the good little soldier that he is.

Nothing has changed in him. It's horrible.

They say that people change over time. And that's what I hoped for with him. I hoped that time would make him less fascinating, less unbearable and seductive, that he would become a little more stupid and uninteresting. But all this time has brought me is exactly the same man as before, plus the white admiralty uniform.

What a f*ck*ng scam.

—With all due respect, Grand Admiral, this is between my superior and me. — I thought I was your superior now. — Not when we are in the ISB offices.

There is so much electricity in the air that we are close to a storm. Around us crackles such tension that we could easily power a holovid network just by staring into each other's eyes. No matter how much I avoid his eyes, everything brings me back to them again and again, and that has the gift of making me particularly nervous. This is the effect it has always had on me, to destabilize me, to convince me that all my certainties are false. As long as he sees it, as long as Yularen understands that my collaboration with Thrawn must stop now before I commit murder, or worse.

— Jar'kani expects me to be alone for the transaction. I continue calmly. I would have a hard time justifying the presence of a person he has never seen at my side.

—He could be your husband.

It's official, he's stupid.

I don't know how much time passes between the moment Yularen issues his ready-made solution and the moment I catch my breath. I want to scream, to crush this man that I admire so much in my hands by asking him where he could have stored his clairvoyance and his brain.

—Are you kidding? I embellish my remark with a look of distress which remains unanswered.

—Do I look like one?

—There is a problem in your plan: I am already married.

—We all know that.

His voice makes my blood run cold. It has this acidic vibration that pins me to the spot, throws my heart into the crusher and suffocates my soul in a gloomy vault. It's worse than a death sentence, worse than a reprimand.

It is reality.

I am married. I am not married to him.

His expression cracks for a quarter of a second, time for my eyes to detect the regrets he hides behind his coldness. This all drives me crazy. This life, these memories that come back to me like slaps in the face as soon as I have the misfortune of looking at it, of hearing it, of feeling it. Everything he represents, everything I will never have.

—Don’t look at me like that, Leny. Let's be pragmatic. Jar’Kani knows you’re married, so there’s nothing wrong with making introductions. — And for what reason ? Eh ? Since when is taking your partner to illegal art trafficking a good idea?

— You're only showing him more. You prove to him that he can trust everything and your close circle. He will understand that you are not doing this alone, that it is a family affair. You have

— The argument is valid. They both want me dead.

— No, he’s not.

[herawell]

Just had the weirdest set of dreams between 4am and 5:30, like I’d taken acid or something. I dreamt that my phone was mysteriously hacked and my fandom life outed to my parents, that the police came in the middle of the night for some reason about a suspicious fandom merch transaction and wanted to know if I was home, that we met with some family friends and turned out the wife has been evil in r/relationships style for years, that I woke up and I’d left my room door open somehow and it felt very realistic. Properly awake now and I’m still feeling shaken.