#also personal notes because this is more reliable than paper

[beigetiger]

More writing-based notes for scenes I want to put in Where the Wild Things Go when I get back to my computer:

- Go back and input a scene talking about why the Hummingbird wants to leave their parents permanently, preferably by showcasing the parent’s attitude towards Wild Things.

- Go back and show more of the Hummingbird adjusting to living in a forest and the culture that goes along with it, probably before the Hummingbird has their full transformation and they’re still living with the Spider alongside the other young Wild Things

- Show the Hummingbird learning to craft a spear that they can use in hunting and learning how to use said spear.p

- Show how the Wild Things typically survive in the wintertime, since large farmland is pretty much impossible given the circumstances. As a result, the Wild Things are more social with each other and hunt in groups to ensure that nobody dies of cold and that everyone gets to eat.

- The Hummingbird creating a place to live, possibly sharing a living space or living nearby the Cyclopean Feline, basically finding the materials to decorate it and make it livable.

- Show a different winter, and a much harsher one, where a group of Wild Things are nearly shot to death after chasing some sort of animal into the field near the Civilized Society. This leads to a Civilized Person leaving a couple bags of food near the edge of the forest, which leads to a debate about whether or not the food is safe to take or if it’s been poisoned/if they’ll be shot upon entering the field to grab the food. But desperation leads the Hummingbird to go out and grab the bags before quickly retreating to the forest.

- The Hummingbird, now a much better flier, doing air trickshots through the trees alongside other flying Wild Things.

- The Cyclopean Feline adopting a young Wild Thing (maybe 12-13?) and the Hummingbird agreeing to co-raise the kid with them. The kid is probably on-par with a griffon but has the front half of a tiger and the back half (including the wings) of a dragon. Basically show them raising and interacting with the kid.

- The Hummingbird unwisely getting near the Civilized Society and spotting a partially transformed kid inside the wall who is being chased. Hummingbird then dives down, grabs the kid, and flies away with them, which causes a ruckus within the wall and gets the Hummingbird in vague trouble when they get back.

- Another average day in the Hummingbird’s life now that they’re slightly older and a more functional adult, plus them checking in on the now fully-transformed Wild Thing they saved. They also fly around with the Tiger-Dragon.

- The Civilized Society getting more and more aggressive towards the Wild Place, which eventually leads to a party of them going out to capture Wild Things. They nearly capture the Tiger-Dragon, who’s probably around 16-17 at this point, but the Hummingbird saves them and gets captured instead.

- The Hummingbird is caged inside the wall and meets an old classmate of theirs, who is their jailer. The classmate recognizes them and is horrified by their transformation, but the Hummingbird eventually convinced them to unlock the cell and let the Hummingbird fly away.

- Civilized Society continues to be aggressive, which causes more and more Wild Things to leave the forest in search of somewhere better. The Hummingbird, Cyclopean Feline, and Tiger-Dragon stay as long as they can, but eventually also choose to leave together in search of somewhere safer. The Spider, however, opts to stay so it can continue to care for young Wild Things. The family wishes it luck and then leaves.

- Show a couple different places that the family travel to and see if it’s a good fit for them, leaving for various reasons. They do, however, eventually find a place they like and decide to stay. They then have to learn to adjust to this new place and to having fewer Wild Things around.

- The three of them continue to live their lives and they all slowly get older. They also reminisce along the way about the Wild Place, and the many creatures who lived there alongside them.

- Eventually, the Hummingbird and Cyclopean Feline are quite old and struggle to do many tasks, but are still relatively happy and enjoy their life together, especially since the Tiger-Dragon is capable of caring for them. The Hummingbird does eventually die (although not of violent causes), and dies looking up at the sky and seeing the birds flying around.

[sophiamcdougall]

You're a reasonably informed person on the internet. You've experienced things like no longer being able to get files off an old storage device, media you've downloaded suddenly going poof, sites and forums with troves full of people's thoughts and ideas vanishing forever. You've heard of cybercrime. You've read articles about lost media. You have at least a basic understanding that digital data is vulnerable, is what I'm saying. I'm guessing that you're also aware that history is, you know... important? And that it's an ongoing study, requiring ... data about how people live? And that it's not just about stanning celebrities that happen to be dead? Congratulations, you are significantly better-informed than the British government! So they're currently like "Oh hai can we destroy all these historical documents pls? To save money? Because we'll digitise them first so it's fine! That'll be easy, cheap and reliable -- right? These wills from the 1850s will totally be fine for another 170 years as a PNG or whatever, yeah? We didn't need to do an impact assesment about this because it's clearly win-win! We'd keep the physical wills of Famous People™ though because Famous People™ actually matter, unlike you plebs. We don't think there are any equalities implications about this, either! Also the only examples of Famous People™ we can think of are all white and rich, only one is a woman and she got famous because of the guy she married. Kisses!"

Yes, this is the same Government that's like "Oh no removing a statue of slave trader is erasing history :(" You have, however, until 23 February 2024 to politely inquire of them what the fuck they are smoking. And they will have to publish a summary of the responses they receive. And it will look kind of bad if the feedback is well-argued, informative and overwhelmingly negative and they go ahead and do it anyway. I currently edit documents including responses to consultations like (but significantly less insane) than this one. Responses do actually matter. I would particularly encourage British people/people based in the UK to do this, but as far as I can see it doesn't say you have to be either. If you are, say, a historian or an archivist, or someone who specialises in digital data do say so and draw on your expertise in your answers. This isn't a question of filling out a form. You have to manually compose an email answering the 12 questions in the consultation paper at the link above. I'll put my own answers under the fold. Note -- I never know if I'm being too rude in these sorts of things. You probably shouldn't be ruder than I have been.

Please do not copy and paste any of this: that would defeat the purpose. This isn't a petition, they need to see a range of individual responses. But it may give you a jumping-off point.

Question 1: Should the current law providing for the inspection of wills be preserved?

Yes. Our ability to understand our shared past is a fundamental aspect of our heritage. It is not possible for any authority to know in advance what future insights they are supporting or impeding by their treatment of material evidence. Safeguarding the historical record for future generations should be considered an extremely important duty.

Question 2: Are there any reforms you would suggest to the current law enabling wills to be inspected?

No.

Question 3: Are there any reasons why the High Court should store original paper will documents on a permanent basis, as opposed to just retaining a digitised copy of that material?

Yes. I am amazed that the recent cyber attack on the British Library, which has effectively paralysed it completely, not been sufficient to answer this question for you.  I also refer you to the fate of the Domesday Project. Digital storage is useful and can help more people access information; however, it is also inherently fragile. Malice, accident, or eventual inevitable obsolescence not merely might occur, but absolutely should be expected. It is ludicrously naive and reflects a truly unpardonable ignorance to assume that information preserved only in digital form is somehow inviolable and safe, or that a physical document once digitised, never need be digitised again..At absolute minimum, it should be understood as certain that at least some of any digital-only archive will eventually be permanently lost. It is not remotely implausible that all of it would be. Preserving the physical documents provides a crucial failsafe. It also allows any errors in reproduction -- also inevitable-- to be, eventually, seen and corrected. Note that maintaining, upgrading and replacing digital infrastructure is not free, easy or reliable. Over the long term, risks to the data concerned can only accumulate.

"Unlike the methods for preserving analog documents that have been honed over millennia, there is no deep precedence to look to regarding the management of digital records. As such, the processing, long-term storage, and distribution potential of archival digital data are highly unresolved issues. [..] the more digital data is migrated, translated, and re-compressed into new formats, the more room there is for information to be lost, be it at the microbit-level of preservation. Any failure to contend with the instability of digital storage mediums, hardware obsolescence, and software obsolescence thus meets a terminal end—the definitive loss of information. The common belief that digital data is safe so long as it is backed up according to the 3-2-1 rule (3 copies on 2 different formats with 1 copy saved off site) belies the fact that it is fundamentally unclear how long digital information can or will remain intact. What is certain is that its unique vulnerabilities do become more pertinent with age."  -- James Boyda, On Loss in the 21st Century: Digital Decay and the Archive, Introduction.

Question 4: Do you agree that after a certain time original paper documents (from 1858 onwards) may be destroyed (other than for famous individuals)? Are there any alternatives, involving the public or private sector, you can suggest to their being destroyed?

Absolutely not. And I would have hoped we were past the "great man" theory of history. Firstly, you do not know which figures will still be considered "famous" in the future and which currently obscure individuals may deserve and eventually receive greater attention. I note that of the three figures you mention here as notable enough to have their wills preserved, all are white, the majority are male (the one woman having achieved fame through marriage) and all were wealthy at the time of their death. Any such approach will certainly cull evidence of the lives of women, people of colour and the poor from the historical record, and send a clear message about whose lives you consider worth remembering.

Secondly, the famous and successsful are only a small part of our history. Understanding the realities that shaped our past and continue to mould our present requires evidence of the lives of so-called "ordinary people"!

Did you even speak to any historians before coming up with this idea?

Entrusting the documents to the private sector would be similarly disastrous. What happens when a private company goes bust or decides that preserving this material is no longer profitable? What reasonable person, confronted with our crumbling privatised water infrastructure, would willingly consign any part of our heritage to a similar fate?

Question 5: Do you agree that there is equivalence between paper and digital copies of wills so that the ECA 2000 can be used?

No. And it raises serious questions about the skill and knowledge base within HMCTS and the government that the very basic concepts of data loss and the digital dark age appear to be unknown to you. I also refer you to the Domesday Project.

Question 6: Are there any other matters directly related to the retention of digital or paper wills that are not covered by the proposed exercise of the powers in the ECA 2000 that you consider are necessary?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 7: If the Government pursues preserving permanently only a digital copy of a will document, should it seek to reform the primary legislation by introducing a Bill or do so under the ECA 2000?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 8: If the Government moves to digital only copies of original will documents, what do you think the retention period for the original paper wills should be? Please give reasons and state what you believe the minimum retention period should be and whether you consider the Government’s suggestion of 25 years to be reasonable.

There is no good version of this plan. The physical documents should be preserved.

Question 9: Do you agree with the principle that wills of famous people should be preserved in the original paper form for historic interest?

This question betrays deep ignorance of what "historic interest" actually is. The study of history is not simply glorified celebrity gossip. If anything, the physical wills of currently famous people could be considered more expendable as it is likely that their contents are so widely diffused as to be relatively "safe", whereas the wills of so-called "ordinary people" will, especially in aggregate, provide insights that have not yet been explored.

Question 10: Do you have any initial suggestions on the criteria which should be adopted for identifying famous/historic figures whose original paper will document should be preserved permanently?

Abandon this entire lamentable plan. As previously discussed, you do not and cannot know who will be considered "famous" in the future, and fame is a profoundly flawed criterion of historical significance.

Question 11: Do you agree that the Probate Registries should only permanently retain wills and codicils from the documents submitted in support of a probate application? Please explain, if setting out the case for retention of any other documents.

No, all the documents should be preserved indefinitely.

Question 12: Do you agree that we have correctly identified the range and extent of the equalities impacts under each of these proposals set out in this consultation? Please give reasons and supply evidence of further equalities impacts as appropriate.

No. You appear to have neglected equalities impacts entirely. As discussed, in your drive to prioritise "famous people", your plan will certainly prioritise the white, wealthy and mostly the male, as your "Charles Dickens, Charles Darwin and Princess Diana" examples amply indicate. This plan will create a two-tier system where evidence of the lives of the privileged is carefully preserved while information regarding people of colour, women, the working class and other disadvantaged groups is disproportionately abandoned to digital decay and eventual loss. Current and future historians from, or specialising in the history of minority groups will be especially impoverished by this.  

[ur-dad-satan]

BarbatosxF!MC (she/they)

Personal Assistant

5.9K words, 18+, MDNI, Enjoy <3

(Including stolen touches, public sex, fingering/hand job, kissing, groping, oral (M & F giving and receiving), M and F orgasms (includes squirt), and face painting)

MC had been living in the Devildom for a few months now, and had taken quite the interest in the Demon Prince's butler. In fact, they would try to help out around the castle anytime they could just to get a little extra off of Barbatos' plate. Whether that was helping Diavolo with his paperwork, or cleaning something that needed to be cleaned, despite the blue haired butler always saying that he could do it himself. MC refused to stop trying to help out and whether it was because she just wanted to be nice, or because Barbatos had piqued her interest and she wanted to get closer to him, she didn't really care.

As much as Barbatos tried to keep his metaphorical distance, he couldn't avoid MC if he tried. The human was virtually everywhere, and as annoying as it could be, it also meant that she was extremely reliable. This came in handy on one summer day when Diavolo was sick with a summer cold, but couldn't reschedule an important meeting. As much as he tried his best to get up and go, he was too sick and Barbatos wouldn't let him. So, as a compromise, he offered to go in the prince's place. However, it would be a lot for one demon. So, Barbatos picked up his D.D.D. and made a call.

"Hello, Barbatos. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Lucifer asked politely when he answered.

"Hello, Lucifer. The young master has come down with a cold, however, I must attend an important meeting and I require a bit of assistance. If you aren't too busy, would you be willing to accompany me in a few hours?" Barbatos asked politely. A small, apologetic, sigh could be heard along with paper rustling from the black-haired man's side of the line.

"I'm sorry, Barbatos, I'm still working on the student council paperwork, and I have to get my brothers to do their paperwork too. Unfortunately, I am extremely busy today. Perhaps MC is available today." Lucifer suggested. Barbatos thought about it for a moment, then spoke once more.

"Very well. Thank you anyway Lucifer. I will check in with MC." Barbatos said genuinely. "Good luck with your brothers." He added.

"Thank you. Please tell Lord Diavolo that we wish him well." Lucifer said. The two finished their conversation, then Barbatos called the human under the same roof.

"Hello?" MC answered pleasantly. Her cheery tone was admittedly a pleasant change from his tired one and Diavolo's sickly one.

"Hello MC. I was wondering if you were free to accompany me to a very important meeting? The young master is sick, and I require a bit of assistance." Barbatos asked.

"Yeah! I can definitely be your assistant!"

"Excellent! Thank you very much, MC." Barbatos said relieved.

"No problem! When is the meeting and what do I need to know?" MC asked. Barbatos shared all of the details including that it was a smart-casual meeting and that he just needed them to be an extra note-taker. Not long after, MC was showing up to the castle to help Barbatos and wish Diavolo well. For the meeting, MC wore a nice light colored blouse and a dark blue skirt; though not matching Barbatos' white button up shirt, and signature blue pants and blazer.

*.*.*.*.*.

During the boring meeting, MC tried their hardest to pay attention, but found themself spacing out once or twice. The second time they zoned out, rather than refocusing on their own, a foot gently nudged their own. Subtly, MC looked up and made eye contact with Barbatos. His eyes practically said 'pay attention', but quite frankly, MC didn't want to. She knew it was an important meeting, but it was so boring. It had already been going on for over an hour and a half! MC already had three pages of hand written notes, and there wasn't an end to this meeting in sight. Suddenly, an idea flashed in her head and she tried to suppress a small smirk.

MC adjusted slightly in her seat and crossed her legs comfortably. She continued writing down notes and paying attention, but let her foot touch Barbatos' leg. A small flicker of acknowledgement barely flashed behind his eyes; however, he didn't stutter or stop speaking. This simply wouldn't do. As Barbatos and the other demons spoke, MC went between paying attention, and writing the important things they said. They waited a few minutes to avoid suspicion from the blue haired demon they had came with, then began to move her foot up and down Barbatos' leg earning a small glance from him, but not much else.

Soon, MC moved their foot higher up Barbatos' leg. His legs were slightly apart, so it was easy for MC to press their foot between their knees. They looked up at him through their lashes as nonchalantly as they could. He shot them another small glance, this one seeming to hold a warning behind an almost unwavering expression. MC knew what she was doing could end badly, but honestly, it was a risk they were willing to take. As the meeting went on, MC's foot crept higher and higher up Barbatos' leg, but they stopped when their foot was halfway up his thigh. She never broke her facade of diligent note taker, and before she knew it, the host of the meeting was giving their closing remarks. MC wanted to do one more thing, knowing that she'd already be in trouble anyway, so why not? Barbatos put on a polite smile and spoke; however, MC pushed her foot into his crotch as he did. Though almost unnoticeable, his breath hitched. As quickly as it happened, his breath evened out and he continued speaking and gathering his things to leave.

"Oh, please do not forget," The meeting's host spoke gathering everyone's attention once more. "There is a social event this evening. Wine, hors d'oeuvres, live music, and polite conversation. And please, dress for the weather; it is going to be quite warm." They reminded the room. MC's eyes lit up a bit and packed up her stuff and said her goodbyes. As they walked out of the venue, Barbatos pulled MC into a different, smaller, unused meeting room and a stern expression overtook his face.

"MC, what was that about? I asked you here to focus and take notes, not to... touch me." Barbatos said, his usual cool demeanor was completely gone. His voice dripped with an inebriating mixture of annoyance, slight embarrassment, and exasperation. MC nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders and put on a coy expression.

"I was taking notes, just like you asked. I just got a little bored and my foot started to... wander." MC said innocently. Though he tried to seem irritated and frustrated, the light blush spread across his face betrayed him. As did what MC had pressed her foot against a bit ago. Barbatos let out a sigh and rubbed a tensed middle finger and a thumb on his temple.

"MC, please just do as I ask next time. We cannot afford to embarrass Lord Diavolo." Barbatos said exasperatedly. A mischevious grin settled on MC's face.

"Next time? There'll be a next time?" MC said through a grin. Barbatos, clearly frustrated, rolled his eyes and started to leave the room with MC hot on his heels.

*.*.*.*.*.

The two made their way back to the castle to check on Diavolo. Lo and behold, the red-haired prince was not feeling any better. As much as he wanted to get up and go, he physically could not. Barbatos decided that he would have to take MC along with him once again. Slightly begrudgingly, Barbatos told MC to go back to the House of Lamentation and dress for the occasion.

"I will be at there to pick you up in approximately two hours. Can you be ready by then?" Barbatos asked escorting the human to the castle door.

"Yeah, of course! I know just what to wear. I'll see you in a few hours." MC said genuinely excited. They ran a feathery hand down Barbatos' arm and left, going to get ready for this event. A fleeting moment of regret flashed in his mind, but he pushed it out as soon as is flashed in his head.

*.*.*.*.*.

The time had finally come for Barbatos to pick up the human for the social event they had to attend. Barbatos had also asked Simeon and Luke to stay with Diavolo and tend to him while he was gone because he didn't know when they would be back. Though out of his usual style, and he didn't want to admit it, he thought he looked really nice in this outfit and it made him a bit excited for this event. When he rung the doorbell to the House of Lamentation, it only took a few seconds for Beelzebub to answer the door looking slightly confused, but a polite smile quickly replaced it.

"Hi Barbatos," The tall demon smiled.

"Hello, Beelzebub. I am here to pick up MC for the evening." Barbatos smiled back.

"Oh, come in for a minute, I'll go get her." Beel said and motioned for him to come into the foyer, which he accepted. He sipped from a water bottle as he closed the door, before looking Barbatos up and down taking in his appearance. "I like your suit." He complimented genuinely. The butler wore a blue two piece suit, a black button-up shirt, and black shoes; his hair was in its signature style, and a silver watch sat on his wrist that tied his look together.

"Thank you," Barbatos smiled genuinely as the orange-haired man turned to walk away, then disappeared around a corner. It wasn't long until the sound of a pair of heels could be heard coming down the hall. Barbatos looked up just in time to see MC come into the foyer followed closely by Asmodeus. The human was clad in an olive green wrap around skirt and top set, silver jewelry, and small black heels. Their pink hair contrasted beautifully against the color of their outfit.

Barbatos took a moment to take in her appearance; she looked amazing. A small smile overtook his face before he greeted the two people in front of him.

"Hello again, MC. Hello Asmodeus." Barbatos said.

"Hi, Barbs." MC said smiling back. Both she and Asmo took in the butler's appearance, then shared a look.

"You two look so good! Especially next to each other!" Asmo gushed. He had helped MC get ready, and let her borrow one of his perfumes to pull it all together.

"Thank you, Asmodeus. I must say, I agree that you look splendid, MC." Barbatos said kindly.

"Thanks! Would you be okay with Asmo taking our picture? I really love this outfit." MC asked. Seeing no harm in it, he obliged and posed with MC while the blond haired demon snapped a few pictures of the pair, before they turned to leave.

*.*.*.*.*.

When Barbatos and MC arrived, it felt more like a small party in a big mansion. Most of the attendants who were previously at the meeting were there along with presumably their significant others or assistants. Time goes by, and Barbatos and MC have polite conversations with everyone, munch on the mini appetizers, and enjoy a drink to the light music filling the air. Though mostly behaved, MC did steal quite a few... daring touches throughout the night. They started off small on his arm or shoulder, then they became more pointed. A feathery touch slipped under his jacket once or twice, and MC's fingers "accidentally" tapped against Barbatos' hip; those were the touches that made the blue-haired man's stomach do flips.

As calm and collected as Barbatos usually was, MC's stolen touches continuously ran through his head in a way he couldn't stop. The more he thought about the way his skin burned at MC's touch even over all of his clothes, the more he felt his will to be civilized and remember where he was, was slipping. The evening continued and MC only stole more touches, each lingering a bit longer than the last as she sipped on flutes of rare human world wine. Toward the end of the night, Barbatos had been marinating in emotional turmoil and decided that he would do something rash; he'd do something completely out of character. As a waiter passed by with a tray of demonus, Barbatos grabbed two glasses, quickly downed them, and noticed walking away.

MC had slipped away from the party down a long hall to go to the bathroom. The hall didn't have many decorations aside from a few paintings, a large oval-shaped mirror, and a table next to a door leading to a bathroom. As MC finished up, she dabbed a bit of cool water on her face and let out a sigh. They felt almost completely drained and when they next saw Barbatos, they'd ask if they could leave yet. What the human didn't expect was for Barbatos to be standing next to the table only a few feet away from them.

"Oh, just the demon I wanted to see." MC said cheerily. Barbatos let out a breathy laugh and a sly smile overtook his face.

"I'm glad I could be in the right place." He said and leaned against the table. MC stepped closer to him still wanting to tease him. All she really wanted was to see if she could break him.

"Can we leave soon? My social battery is running low." MC asked. They placed a delicate hand on Barbatos' arm; whether it was an absentminded movement or purposeful, it set his skin ablaze all the same.

"Unfortunately, we must stay for a while longer. However, I suppose we can hide away for a few minutes, if you need to." He suggested.

"Yes, please." MC said in relief. They exhaled and let out a small laugh, before turning their attention to the butler who may have gotten closer. "By the way, Asmo wasn't lying when he said you look nice. I know you always wear blue, but this shade really... brings out the green in your eyes." MC complemented. There was a look in MC's eye as she spoke that intrigued Barbatos. A dangerous mixture of hunger and want.

"Thank you, MC. Maybe that's why you can't seem to keep your hands to yourself." Barbatos joked with a hint of flintiness. A mixture of embarrassment and excitement flashed across the human's face, before it changed to a more nonchalant one.

"Ah, I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable. I'm sorry if that's the case." MC said and moved her hand off of him. Despite this, the fire inside of him spread up to his chest. He was losing his will to behave.

"Not at all. I was merely pointing it out. Though I'm not usually one for revenge, I feel like I should get you back for all those stolen touches, and what you did at this morning's meeting." Barbatos said with a smile as he got ever so closer. The two were less than a foot apart. The air was thick as MC looked up into Barbatos' eyes really noticing how much taller he was than them. He all but cornered MC against the table. His hands were right next to them, but not actually touching them, but extremely close.

"Really now?" A seductive smile slipped onto MC's face as they leaned against the table, something hot and rough bubbled up in their lower stomach.

"Yes, really." As Barbatos spoke, ever so close to MC's face, a light pink blush dusted his cheeks and ears. The combination of his massive presence, his physical height, his cologne, and the alcohol on his breath was almost dizzying. Both of their walls were crumbling, and there was almost nothing they could do about it. Barbatos placed a hand on MC's waist and pressed his fingers right above the waistband of her skirt. Her breath hitched almost silently at the sensation. Both of their eyes lidded, and their breathing became heavier; they were completely lost in each other's gaze. MC's eyes fell to Barbatos' slightly parted lips.

"Barbatos," MC's voice was breathy and her plea sounded almost like a moan. Fuck. That was all it took for him to break. He squeezed MC's waist and grabbed her face, as he hungrily closed the distance between the two. They melted into one another's touch. Their bodies pressed against each other as their breaths quickened and small sounds of pleasure escaped from them. MC's hands flew up to wrap around Barbatos' neck, pulling him as close as he could physically be. Their lips danced against one another; only heating up when Barbatos' tongue slipped past his lips and into MC's mouth. The taste of demonus was a welcome intrusion that made her moan softly.

The sound once more turned Barbatos on and he lifted MC onto the table, slotting himself between her legs. The table was relatively small, so MC's back pressed against the wall, the cold material felt amazing against their warm skin. Barbatos' hands ran up MC's sides, then one continued up to the back of her neck, while the other went back down to squeeze her hip possessively. MC, wanting to take some control, broke the kiss attacking Barbatos' neck. MC kissed and licked at his neck, careful not to leave any marks. The feeling sent shivers down his spine and he let out a shaky breath, only getting hard in his pants. Absentmindedly, the blue-haired man started grinding against MC's thigh aching for some kind of contact.

"Mmm, MC-" He moaned lowly right into MC's ear. She almost bit down on a highly visible area of his neck, but stopped herself just in time. "You're driving me crazy." He finished saying in a tone that was a half laugh and half moan. MC couldn't take it anymore, they knew they'd sound like a slut, or like they're desperate, but they didn't fucking care.

"Fuck, Barbatos." MC pleaded and moved one hand down to rub Barbatos' hard dick over his pants. His breath hitched, and he began attacking MC's neck with kisses, licks, and gently running his fangs across her skin. He nodded his head and squeezed MC's hip with one hand and ran the other up the back of her top. MC's hands went to work unbuckling Barbatos' belt. As she moved, the blue-haired man started to grope MC's breasts, in a way that could only be described as uncouth degeneracy.

MC slipped her hand down his pants, palming him over his underwear making him let out low, growl-like moans from his chest. Completely lost in pleasure, Barbatos' dominant hand slid down MC's thigh, then ducked under her skirt as he touched her gently above her panties. MC moaned against Barbatos' skin and her hips bucked against his touch. His fingers pressed and prodded against their pussy making their underwear get wetter and wetter while he got harder and harder. The tension was becoming too great for the pair, it only took a minute longer for their hands to dip below one another's underwear. Barbatos' soft skin contrasted from the hardness of his lust; however, MC's wetness complemented the delicate softness of hers.

"MC," Barbatos started. "I don't know if I can hold myself back from having my way with you any longer." His breath was shaky as his ever-present control slipped from how heated the moment was. The social was a long forgotten memory in this long, hidden away hall and all they cared about was each other.

"Then don't. Fuck me already." Not a moment after the words left the human's mouth, Barbatos' lips were on MC's. He pulled MC close by her waist and pulled the wet fabric aside before pushing his hard cock into MC's wet cunt. They moaned out in unison careful to keep their voices low as to not get caught. Barbatos shrugged off his suit jacket, leaving him looking more disheveled by the minute. They both took a moment to adjust to his size and their tightness respectively, before Barbatos began to move his hips. The pleasure radiated from their abdomens and spread throughout their bodies hotly, intensifying ten-fold wherever their bodies touched.

Low moans seeped from their mouths and mixed together with the low hum of the band playing back down the hall where someone could walk down and see them having sex out in the open so brazenly. The very thought turned MC on even more. They reached up and started to unbutton Barbatos' shirt about halfway; she couldn't not leave at least a bit of evidence. As Barbatos thrusted deeper into MC gradually becoming more rough, MC put her arms in his shirt and ran her nails gently down his back making his back arch and his cock push deeper into the human.

"F-fuck!" The blue-haired demon moaned out a bit louder than anticipated. "MC, you're going to get us in trouble if you keep that up." His breath was hoarse and unsteady.

"Should I stop?" MC asked in a faux innocent voice mimicking the one she used after the meeting that morning. Barbatos didn't know why, but his face burned once again, and his cock twitched inside of MC.

"Absolutely not." Barbatos replied and began to kiss her again. His thrusts got faster, and MC dug her nails into Barbatos' back making him moan into her mouth and transform into his demon form. Without a moment of hesitation, Barbatos used his tail to play with MC's clit making her moan harder into his mouth and her hands scratched into Barbatos' skin again. The intense pleasure mixed with the atmosphere of everything going on around them makes them both cum. Barbatos quickly pulls out and cum on her thighs as he covered MC's mouth muffling her orgasm. Despite both of them already riding out their orgasms, Barbatos' tail did not let up on MC's sensitive and puffy clit. Through their continued stimulation, MC's toes began to curl in their shoes and they reached down to pump Barbatos' dick even more.

His legs started to shake with the overstimulation matching MC's already trembling body. Both of their movements slow to a stop. Barbatos pretty much leaned down on MC as they caught their breath together, and Barbatos' horns and tail seem to disappear as they calm down. Barbatos fixed his clothes, then ducked into the bathroom to get a damp paper towel and helped MC clean up. After they were both completely dressed, they walked back into the main area where everyone else was. The only reason no one was suspicious was because their whole little rendezvous only took fifteen minutes.

*.*.*.*.*.

About an hour later, Barbatos and MC were saying their goodbyes to the guests as they leave and they decide to leave as well. Luckily, the walk from the venue to the House of Lamentation was approximately 20 minutes long. MC suggested walking rather than calling a car and having their night end in five minutes. The two chatted happily as they strolled down the dim, sparsely populated streets, only lit by streetlights and the few faint stars that could be seen in the devildom sky. Despite both of their calm and happy demeanors, the events from earlier played over in their heads. The touches, the kisses, the heat, the atmosphere; it almost fogged their thoughts. Those feelings seemingly leaking from the back of their heads, slowly dotting its way into their current conversation. While Barbatos was speaking, MC suddenly let out a small laugh which he met with an inquisitive look.

"Did I say something funny?" Barbatos asked half amused.

"No, sorry. I was just thinking. I never thought I'd hear the Barbatos, butler of the Devildom's prince say 'fuck'." MC said holding back another small laugh. Barbatos immediately knew that they were talking about, and a light blush spread across his face.

"Well, I never thought I would abandon such an important event to indulge in such acts. Even if it was for less than twenty minutes." Barbatos replied. The more the earlier scenes played in his head, the more his blush spread, but stayed light and airy.

"Damn, just the thought of me is enough to make you blush, huh? It's a shame we had to rush." MC teased and linker her arm in his, her fingers brushing his hip once again.

"MC... Barbatos said in a tone of both warning and slight embarrassment.

"What? I didn't do anything." MC grinned and hugged his arm into her chest.

"MC, I'm only going to tell to tell you this once: you don't want to start something you can't finish." The tall man warned again. Once again, he was in an internal struggle for control over his actions. It wouldn't be wise to lose his composure and do such unbecoming acts where anyone can see. It wasn't late, so people could easily see if they did do something out on the street. MC let out a snort of laughter before leaning close to his ear, and speaking again.

"I think I finished what I started when you came all over my thighs in the hallway." MC's voice was low and sultry as they spoke. Barbatos' breath came out shakily, a familiar fluttering in his stomach told him all he needed to know.

"If I'm not mistaken, I did all of the work." Barbatos said and freed his arm from MC's grasp. He wrapped his arm tightly around MC's waist and let his thumb rub small circles on their exposed skin. He pulled them close and spoke into their ear. "You just laid there on your back, looking pretty, and taking me in so well." His voice deepened when he spoke, an air of gruffness replacing his usual honey-like voice. MC bit her lip to keep herself from moaning; a familiar pang pulled in MC's pelvis and they knew their underwear was going to get wet again.

"Really, now? Fine, how about I put in some work then?" MC asked and trailed her hand from Barbatos' lower outer thigh, upward and inward. She avoided his crotch and instead finished trailing her hand up the center of his thigh, then over to the buckle of his belt. The butler's breathing became shallow and his cock started to stiffen at her touch. Damn this human's affect on him.

"Oh? And how would you do that?" Barbatos asked with a mischevious grin as he looked down into MC's eyes. MC went up on her tip toes and kissed Barbatos on the lips briefly, before looking around the empty street, and pulling Barbatos down a dim alley. Once they were more towards the back, MC pushed the demon against one of the walls and caressed his face gently.

"Like this." MC said and kissed Barbatos deeply. His hands greedily gripped and kneaded MC's ass and thighs as her hands slid down his body. Barbatos' tongue found its way into MC's mouth, deepening the kiss and making the human moan lightly. MC unbuttoned the butler's suit jacket and ran her hands down his clothed chest, taking it upon herself to squeeze his chest like he had squeezed hers; a shiver ran up his spine and he let out a shaky moan. MC kept kissing Barbatos and started to unbutton his shirt. After the black button up hung loosely off his torso, MC pulled away; a thin strand of saliva connected their lips, before falling into nothingness. MC kissed along Barbatos' jaw, biting softly every now and then as one of her hands continued rubbing his chest, and the other went down to sinfully grope his hard dick over his pants.

"Shit, MC-" The man moaned out. His pleasure only intensified when MC started kissing lower. She kissed down his neck, to his chest, leaving a bite mark only he and MC would know about. A slew of low but salacious swears and moans leaked from their mouths, drifting into the air, and against skin respectively. MC kept going lower, making her way to his stomach, then lower stomach. They got on their knees, and looked up at Barbatos through thick lashes. MC began tugging at Barbatos' belt and their eyes met; heat rose and radiated off the two.

MC opened Barbatos' pants and pulled out his hard dick. She licked up the shaft, teasing his tip with their tongue and watching Barbatos' face become more red and contort. MC kept teasing the demon, until she couldn't take it anymore. The human took as much of his cock as she could before it hit the back of her throat causing her to gag. The vibration made Barbatos moan and grasp the human's face. Gently, he caressed MC's face as her head bobbled up and down his cock, not wanting to look away from such a beautifully lewd sight.

Whether it was because of how intimate the moment was, or how hot the moment was, it didn't make a difference as Barbatos transformed into his demon form. As he watch MC, his mouth watered; he wanted their- no, he craved their taste. Reluctantly, he guided their mouth off of him, and spoke.

"Get up." He commanded in a tone completely soaked in lust. The human complied, but before she could ask why, Barbatos was lifting her up and putting her legs over his shoulders. He leaned her against the wall he was just against, and moved her skirt to the side. He kept one hand on MC's ass half for support and half for his own pleasure. With his other hand, he pulled at one side of her underwear and popped the seam completely and cleanly so he had quick and easy access to her tight, juicy twat.

"Barbatos!" MC called out in surprise. He looked her in the eye and smiled that damn calm, polite smile that he wore everyday and reassured the human that everything was under control.

"Don't worry, dear. I can sew them back up. I'm careful in everything I do." Barbatos said before kissing MC's thighs getting closer and closer to her dripping wet pussy. When he started kissing and licking their sensitive cunt, MC let out a shuddered moan and leaned their head back in pleasure as much as they could. The demon lapped and licked and sucked, massaging MC's ass and hips, now with both hands. Moans leaked from both of their mouths softly and drifted off in the evening air. MC thought it couldn't feel better as their hands held Barbatos' face in admiration, but somehow, he did the impossible; with just enough pressure to make an orgasm shoot through their body, Barbatos ran his teeth over her puffy clit. A high pitched gasp-like moan erupted from MC's chest. Her hands gripped Barbatos' hair in pleasure causing his dick to twitch in response.

MC's hips jerked into Barbatos' mouth where his movements slowed. A combination of spit and juices covered Barbatos' mouth and MC's upper thighs. Slowly, he let the human down and made sure they didn't lose their balance. He hugged the human to his chest and kissed their neck. MC's back pressed against Barbatos' chest as he ran his hands over their body.

"You're so fucking beautiful, MC. I don't know how I held back from fucking you for so long." The butler said against MC's skin. She moaned softly in response before speaking.

"Ugh, shut up and fuck me, butler man." MC said with a dangerous mix of humor and hot fervor in her voice. One of Barbatos' arms wrapped around MC's waist and pulled her tight against him, his still out dick rubbing against their skirt. His other hand slid up MC's tied top, squeezing and kneading her breasts hungrily. It took almost no time for Barbatos to bunch MC's skirt up by her waist and rub his cock against her pussy. The demon's precum mixed with the human's pussy juices and made a delicious squelch when he pushed into them. They both moaned out in pleasure as Barbatos' hand not holding MC up by the waist moved between their tits and their throat- not quite choking them.

His thrusts started off slow, going completely in, then almost completely out; his hot breath fanned over the back of MC's neck making her shutter in pleasure. Gradually, his speed increased, and MC reached down to play with herself. Barbatos saw and grabbed MC's arms and put them behind their back, holding their wrists to keep them in place.

"No, you don't get to do anymore work." The blue-haired man said shortly. His teeth grazed the back of MC's neck before he kissed and sucked right at the base of their neck. The combination of his throbbing manhood in her tight cunt, his sheer dominating size just engulfing her in warmth, and his wandering hand moving from their breasts to their throat, was beyond intoxicating. The human almost didn't realize how suddenly their orgasm bubbled up in their uterus. Almost. MC's moans became rapid and desperate before hot wet squirt started gushing out of MC's twat squeezing around Barbatos. By some miracle, the hot liquid missed Barbatos' legs, and only the last few drops ran down MC's.

"FUCK! I-I've never..." MC moaned out, their voice trailing off and turning into a low, growl-like mewl. A familiar heat all but clawed at Barbatos' groin, he was not going to last much longer. Hell, how could he with MC all undone in front of him. The man was going to cum on MC's legs again, but she pulled away and instead got on her knees in front of him. She started stroking and sucking his cock once more bringing him to the edge, then over. Barbatos shuddered and moaned as his hot sticky white cum shot all over MC's face. His tail wrapped around their waist possessively as he rode out his orgasm. His moans slowed to deep breaths as he regained his composure and looked down at the human with his bodily fluids on her face.

"You make me weak, MC." Barbatos said fixing his pants then squatting to be eye-level with MC. As he reached into his jacket to get a handkerchief to help MC clean up, he noticed MC take out their phone and take a selfie. He would have protested, but there was just something so utterly endearing that he just let them get away with it. "Don't show that to anyone, darling." Barbatos asked and started wiping the cum off of her face.

"I can promise that almost no one will see this. The only person I can't guarantee won't see this picture is Asmo, but he's immaculate at keeping secrets." MC said, a smile forming on her face as Barbatos moves the cloth across her face so gently. Barbatos thought about it for a moment, then sighed out a small laugh.

"Fine. If you think he's trustworthy and he accidentally sees that picture, it's okay. However, I want you my dear to be anything but a secret. If word gets out that we are... close, then so be it." Barbatos said and finished cleaning her up as best as he could. He helper her stand, and kissed her forehead while she fixed her clothes before they continued on their walk to the House of Lamentation. He dropped them off, then made the short walk back to the Demon Lord's castle planning his next outing with the beautiful MC.

*.*.*.*.*. (A.N) No smut for a month so I made this extra long. Also MC's outfit is by Charm_Others on Instagram. Love y'all and stay safe <3

[whetstonefires]

I think a part of the reason I feel so connected to JGY and XY is that I, too, think everyone is lying about what a good person they are. Sure, there may be a few genuinely good people, but those are in the minority and never claim the title.

I don't know about never; some people are pretty straightforward.

And in some ways the whole point of the concept of 'a good person' is that the feeling of losing the right to consider yourself one can impose instinctive recoil from doing wrong, in situations where you don't have the leisure of working your way through an ethics diagram and choosing the logically moral path before reacting to a situation. It has practical utility.

But that system can backfire pretty horribly too, in a lot of ways. It can be hijacked by definitions of 'good' that actually make you recoil from ethical acts because they're deviant. It can lead to disappearing up your own ass lmao.

And definitely the threshold for 'talking about how you're a good person' enough that it makes you suspect as either a) a liar or b) someone who values that self-image over objective reality and other people's wellbeing is. Not very high.

Jin Guangyao, ironically, is one of those people who's so performatively A Good Person in his public life that in retrospect it looks like a red flag. Which knowing this about himself in an ongoing fashion ofc just reinforces his own cynicism about everyone else lmao.

Even Lan Xichen, who I think he may see as a genuinely good person, he also sees as an easy mark who will reliably choose what is comfortable over what is 'right,' if you just structure the scenario to make that an easy choice that's easy for him to justify.

Xue Yang's bitterness is in many ways more exciting than Jin Guangyao's because he has a way more unusual relationship to reality, but it does share a lot of notes.

The role of deception in his psychology fascinates me because as far as I can tell he's as instinctively straightforward a person as Lan Wangji, albeit along quite different lines involving a total lack of impulse control, but has adopted 'deceit' as a weapon against the wicked world in the same way he has adopted 'murder.'

But when he feels someone is not merely lying but papering over bad behavior with principles they are not living up to he is livid.

People claiming to be better than him because they're 'good' when 'good' is a construct of privilege, is the underlying idea he's not equipped to articulate. Except he takes that and applies it to 'hitting me to interrupt my random murder of some guy who happened to be within arm's reach when I wanted to hurt someone.'

Which isn't like philosophically perfect, but the underlying problem he's actually reacting to is that he understands the social contract as a lie that has never protected him but seeks to control him, while protecting rich men it has no power to control.

Which it is fair to be mad about, but then his feeling is that since that's the nature of the world and all people, he is entitled to amass for himself the power to inflict hurt without consequences as much as he possibly can, and to use it against the vulnerable for fun, and no one is entitled to interfere.

Which brings him to a place where he is violently angry at anyone talking about trying to treat other people well as a value, because either they're a hypocrite and a liar or they threaten his entire system of rationalization for why he can be The Worst and still In The Right.

'Everyone is equally bad, actually' is like, an understandable take for anyone who's had cause to become embittered. Everyone is free to make whatever philosophical peace they can with the world and by and large there's no ethical weight to any such opinion, in itself.

But it's an ideological crutch people tend to wind up leaning on very heavily when they can't or don't want to take responsibility for their own behavior.

Which is an approach that Xue Yang, Jin Guangyao, and Su She all share, and which not only is shitty of them, it...traps them in a wheel of doubling down on their own worst impulses because rather than going 'that was bad and I shouldn't do it again' they've repeatedly invested all this energy into making what they did actually the correct thing, according to their interpretation of the context. Which means they're more likely to do it again.

(I think this is how Jin Guangyao became a serial killer, for example. He followed a doing-a-murder-impulse and then internally doubled down on how he had nothing to be ashamed of, so he was more likely to do it again, every time.

Wei Wuxian's strain of self-righteousness about his revenge was less...thorough than Jin Guangyao's, because he had the benefit of going after people on the opposite side of a war from him while Meng Yao's first known murder plot was against a shitty boss. But it probably didn't help him not try to solve army-shaped problems with mass murder, even after that stopped being allowed.)

If any of them had just like, zero moral sensibilities they would have created very different problems, and very possibly fewer of them. It's making a central goal of your operations 'self-vindication in your own internal narrative, created retroactively via reframing' rather than 'figuring out what I think I should do and trying to do that' that traps them in the self-reinforcing murder pissbaby vortex.

So if you look at it one way, these three villains are themselves perfect examples of how pursuit of the 'feeling of being good' (or at least 'not the bad guy') can make you worse.

Notably Wei Wuxian was also extremely sensitive to hypocrisy in his youth; it was the only part of Madam Yu's behavior he was ever shown objecting to. But he's sufficiently mellow and cynical from regret and burnout by the 'present' timespan after his resurrection to just get disgusted and alienated about it, rather than outraged.

He wasn't even all that mad at Xue Yang, though honestly that may be partly because he stopped entirely characterizing him as a person at some point during their interaction. Like, there's no point being angry at someone whose moral sensibilities operate exclusively on the plane of 'is this unfair to me' for manipulating and destroying people who were good to him, and then getting obsessed with his own self-pity about it. This is not a person who understands how not to be, metaphorically speaking, a cannibal.

And Wei Wuxian did know better and still got roughly the same result, so what business does he have getting angry?

Anyway yeah those two villains are both delightfully relatable if you sit down and put their perspectives together; they are clearly operating with the same basic suite of human needs and emotions as everybody else, without that being in itself particularly exculpatory, which is honestly refreshing. They've just got the most fantastically toxic interpersonal habits that knowing them counts as some level of Suffering A Curse.

Jin Guangyao and Xue Yang do both stand as scathing rebukes of the society that created them. But within the narrative, wherein they're people, the fact is that each of them had agency and one of the things they chose to do with it was develop rationales for why they were the most special little guy and everything was someone else's fault.

And their moral nihilisms, while also grounded in serious trauma, ping me as emotional masturbation of this variety.

[anxiousbrazilianstuff]

Repost:,)

So, yesterday I was really down and ended up deleting my two AUs, but today I'm feeling better so I'm reposting with more paragraphs, as always, enjoy!

Also, it's fixed!

The text is about a future where Jack and Kath never met, so Jack became an artist (🙏🙏) and Kath a very frustrated journalist, and they end up meeting in an interview that Kath needs to do with him, Jack's a bit of an asshole, but I swear he has reasons 😭

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Damn this job, damn those men and their smug looks, damn her father.

That's what she wrote quickly in her notepad, in such a scribbled way that it felt like she was in third grade again. She had fought so hard for a high position in that world of journalism, and yet she was seen as weak and was always thrown into the most futile articles, there were people who didn't even know her name, they simply called her "the Pulitzer girl", "the little heiress" it was infuriating, but she bit her tongue, she needed the job. This was one example that she wasn't taken seriously; she was a journalist, but she would have to be an interviewer of an artist, who had a reputation for being the most difficult person to deal with, he was arrogant and it was impossible to get anything out of him, and obviously, the good old punching bag was there, as the reserve of reserves. She walked through the streets of Manhattan in a hurry, she had woken up late, and to make matters worse, because of the heat, everything seemed to be more sensitive, her waist, tightened by a corset that her father insisted for she to wear because she was too "chubby" to be a perfect wife with a perfect body, the thousands of clips and products in her hair to keep her curls perfect, the heavy makeup suddenly felt suffocating, and her mind was racing a million miles an hour as her heels clicked furiously on the streets floor. She reviewed her questions thousands of times and did little patience tests to make sure she wouldn't snap at the man and put her job at risk.

Suddenly she found herself in the man's house, she sighed, and clutched her notepad, her patience was already thin before she even saw him but even so, she knocked on the door, praying that the rumors were just rumors and that he was a decent person to be around, while she waited, listening to the footsteps inside the house, she tapped her fingers impatiently on the notepad, finally the door opened, revealing a tanned man, with a mess of curls where his hair should be, much like hers when she woke up, ink stains all over his clothes, he had a few, very few freckles, almost invisible, and she hadn't even spoke in but those two brown eyes seemed to judge even the way she held the pen, she forced a smile and said; — “ Good morning, Mr. Kelly, I'm-” — He cut her off with a scoff and a roll of his eyes, and she suddenly knew she was screwed, he looked at her with disdain and said: — “ I know who you are, journalist... Come on, don't waste my time any more than you already have. ” — Journalist. He didn't even try to call her by her name, she felt her blood boil, and she clutched her notepad so tightly that she was sure her fingers were already marked on the page, even so, she nodded, humming a "mhm" and entering the house, it wasn't big, but it wasn't a shack either, it seemed decent enough to have what he needed. Inside the house, it was full of paintings, most of them his own, a bit arrogant on his part, she wrote on the paper, but I couldn't deny that they were all beautiful, different colors and styles, they certainly didn't match the man who made them, but some say that fame goes to your head, it was notably the case with this artist, who by the way, was talking and talking about something completely uninteresting to her, so she just nodded and wrote notes of the pictures, suddenly he stops, and she remembered why she hated heels, they were not reliable in case you tripped, she honestly hated her clothes, uncomfortable heels, tons of clothes that made her hot, heavy and usually overdone makeup, it was difficult to try to please people, she almost fell.

He looked at her with a smug look, the one she saw every day at work, she was already used to them at this point, and they still bothered her, he he chuckled and said in a voice as smug as his eyes: — “ No need to pretend you're paying attention, journalist, I know you're impressed by the paintings, a pretty common reaction if you ask me. ” — For a moment she got tired of biting her tongue, she could no longer contain her immense anger towards that man and his behavior, they had only spent a few minutes together but he was already getting on her nerves. — “ Well, Mr. Kelly, at least something in this room is beautiful, because you? You are annoying, arrogant and disrespectful, I don't understand how you make such beautiful art. ” — Suddenly the hallway fell into a heavy silence, any shred of confidence disappeared from Jack's face and he just looked at her in disbelief, perhaps she had hit a sore spot, but anyway, they just kept walking, in silence. He opened the door to one of the rooms where she assumed the paintings were made, she took a moment to look around the room; Paints were scattered everywhere, as were canvases that were probably defective in his vision, and many broken brushes, he was definitely a bit destructive and that was a bit worrying. She sat down on a stool, she needed to start the questions, he also sat down, going back to work on the one he was doing before she arrived, probably. She cleared her throat, it was quite embarrassing if she was being honest, but she couldn't go home empty-handed, so she began; — “ So... When did you start painting? ” She asked softly, trying to ease the awkwardness that had been left after her little outburst, but could you really blame her? It was frustrating, she was trying to do her job and she was just humiliated, over and over and over again, no matter who it was. She was pulled out of her thoughts at the boy's response, she shook her head and began to write as he spoke.

“ When I was younger, my mother was into arts and since I had this "gift", she encouraged me to pursue it. — It wasn't much different from her, to be honest, her nannies, butlers and maids always said that the gift of writing was in her blood because of her father, the problem was, she became extremely strict with her writing, it needed to be perfect, she was already not respected as a working woman, if she didn't try hard, it would be worse. She saw a bit of fear on the artist's part in answering her question, maybe family was an uncomfortable subject, that was important, she noted. The problem with being here was that she had forgotten all the questions she made, and it was making her stressed, she knew how to improvise, so she took a deep breath and asked the first thing that came to mind; — “ Were you simply born knowing or did you attend some school? ” — She watched a little confused as the boy scoffed under his breath, muttering something she didn't understand, she frowned, tightening her grip on the pen and forced a smile, asking; — “ Mr. Kelly, believe me, I’m not the least bit interested in your life, but at least we can help each other to finish this quickly, I'll help you leave you alone and you help me being decent and making this faster so I can leave, yes?”

What an insufferable man. That was what she thought over and over again, she felt that the next time that man underestimated her, she would end up with a frazzled nerve from pure stress, he sighed, clearly as unhappy as she was about that situation, the only difference was that he didn't hide it, she had to hide it, after all, it wasn't polite for a woman to get annoyed. After a few eternal minutes of silence, he replied; — “I taught myself, do you think I had money for a damn art school? ” — She flinched a little at the sharp tone, her father had the same tone when he talked to her after she messed up, and she realized he saw it, and his expression softened for the first time since he saw her standing in the doorway; — “ Look, girl, I had... Other concerns to worry about hobbies. ” — Again, he didn't call her by name. But she let it go, because that was important information, he apparently didn't have many money as a child, that was important, and so she began to write, she already had quite a bit of information about that man, but it wasn't enough for what her editors wanted. She was surprised when he started talking on his own, a breakthrough? Was she seeing the light?

— “ I started painting more because of the encouragement of my adoptive mother, she owns the local theater and would ask me and pay me to paint sets for the theater.” — Her eyebrows rose, she knew the local theater, she had been there to review one of the shows, the owner if she was not mistaken, was Miss Medda Larkin, now the question was, how could such a sweet and kind woman have educated someone so difficult? That was none of her business, so she just wrote what was passed on to her, apparently his background was humble, so she sympathized with him just a little bit, because his life probably wasn't easy. As she wrote down her own deductions about the boy, she heard Jack utter some less than desirable words in her presence, in a language she knew was Spanish, She had to thank the thousands of language lessons her father made her do, after all, it made her resume more eye-catching, which was necessary if she wanted to be someone , an immigrant? That was a good question, she turned to him waiting for him to finish his mumbled rants and said; — “ You aren't a native here?” — He looked at her in surprise, He probably thought she hadn't noticed, and hesitated for a few minutes, notably this was another subject he didn't like to talk about, but he after a sigh answered.

— “ I was born here, but my parents were Mexican. ” — With the melancholic way he had spoken, apparently his parents were a sore spot, she knew how immigrants were viewed, so it was probably an injustice, it made her furious, and she took the opportunity to write this, after all, it was a good topic, she just hoped that her editor wouldn't block it because it was a frowned upon subject. She noticed the room was getting dark, frustratingly she wouldn't be able to get all the information she wanted, but what she had was probably more than enough. She stood up, if there was one thing she learned from a young age, it was not good to go out alone at night, so she began to speak; — “Well, thank you very much for the answers, Mr. Kelly, I will probably have to go back tomorrow, but you've already given me enough material, so thank you. ” — She forced a smile, although it wasn't as forced as the previous ones, she waved and left the room, with hurried steps she also left the house. She was quickly thinking of ways to start writing the article. She couldn't just talk about her unpleasant experience, but she also couldn't leave something unrealistic, and she remembered how difficult writing was, especially for a newspaper where your word could influence many people, but she had to try, and she would.

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SO GUYS, That's it for now, if you like it I'll write more, but for now that's it because my hand is sweating from writing/typing

( Guys please see this, this was a LOT of work)

[imjustaf444keriguess]

sources time

(base links for some of the sources: sophie's page, the guardians doc. also note i am not a scientist and could be wrong, and some of these sources might not be super good sources or reliable. if you wish to debunk any sources and their claims with better evidence, feel free. also, not all of these sources directly say "this is 100% a real phenomenon", but shows that currently, there are studies being worked on and planned to explore what people are already experiencing, and how non-traumagenic plurality differs from traumagenic plurality)

edit: adding a read more, nothing has changed i just hate scrolling past this on my blog

the tulpa study's AMA (if it's been published i'll edit this once i know of it)

Collective-Screaming 6mo ago Hi! Nice to see you two here :D If you can say, what differences did you find between how the brain expresses both the host and the created headmate (tulpa)? Was there any difference between when someone was fully switched in and just controlling (possessing, whether fully or just some parts of) the body?

michael_lifshitz 6mo ago Hi, thanks for your question! Our strongest finding was when we looked at tulpa possession. We were using a simple writing task in the fMRI. We found that when a tulpa is possessing the body and writing a sentence, there is reduced activity in a particular part of the brain that's involved in planning actions and having a sense of agency over your actions (the pre-supplementary motor area, or pre-SMA). This suggests that tulpamancers have learned to down-regulate this key agency/planning region, which lets an alternative agent (the tulpa) take control. It's pretty amazing that tulpa systems can do this on demand. We did have a few tulpamancers who could switch, but we haven't carefully looked at their data yet to see how it's different from normal possession. That's a secondary analysis we're planning after the main results come out :)

(there is more information in the AMA thread, but this comment is Lifshitz using the term "tulpa system", which is amusing when anti-endos and sysmeds insist that system is exclusive to DID.)

tulpas and mental health, a study of online tulpamancers and their experiences with mental health

an "explorative interview study" on multiples personal experiences

"exploring the experiences of young people with multiplicity" mentions:

Respondents discussed that there is a lack of understanding regarding how multiplicity develops without a basis in trauma. For respondents who did not have a trauma history, they described feeling ‘left out of the conversation’ and ‘unable to access support’ or resources. Many people discussed multiplicity in terms of being an experience and a part of their lives, rather than being a ‘disorder’ which needs to be treated or cured. [...] A greater level of understanding and resources were mentioned as being needed within both research and practice.

a similar paper by the same people as the above one that's "exploring the utility and personal relevance of co-produced multiplicity resources"

1.Assuming that someone has multiplicity because they have been abused can be experienced as disempowering and impersonal. Don’t assume a trauma history or pathology. If suitable and appropriate, the young person may wish to confide in you in their own time. An identify of being multiple can exist separately from a young person who has experienced abuse. Multiplicity can be viewed as posiitve by young people.

conceptualizing multiplicity spectrum experiences

5.1.1 Misinterpretation of multiplicity experiences Research discussed the lack of diversity encapsulated in current explanations of multiplicity, with primarily medicalised perspectives explored and validated by support and research (Floris & McPherson, 2015). Individuals discussed the link between their experiences and past traumatic events, which they often felt was part of the development of multiplicity (McRae et al., 2017; Parry et al., 2018); however, the conceptualizations of their trauma varied. While some discussed multiplicity in terms of protective factors against trauma (Fox et al., 2013; Zeligman et al., 2017), others felt experiences were separate from prior trauma (Perry et al., 2007). Often not captured within research that solely focuses on clinical aspects of multiplicity, not all experiences were discussed as being a result of trauma, which added to the complexity in understanding (Ribáry et al., 2017). The lack of standardized language was a barrier to understanding (Černis et al., 2020). Overall, a variety of unique terminology was reported, including ‘multiples’, ‘residents’ and ‘plural identity’ (Blunden & Billie., 2021; Ribáry et al., 2017). As a result, participants felt misaligned with current discussions around multiplicity, which is often more complex than current criteria and language elucidates.

6.1 Multiplicity: Disorder versus experience The findings of this review support the notion that multiplicity experiences are complex and varied, existing across a continuum inclusive of multiplicity, DID and derealization–depersonalization (Sar, 2011). Findings also recognized that individuals with lived experiences can struggle to articulate their experiences, perhaps due to a limited framework of available language, representative of our developing understanding and the nuances surrounding multiplicity. Consequently, as with other mental health experiences, multiplicity is often oversimplified and depersonalized, leading people to question their identity, exacerbating one of the central tenants of depersonalization, rather than supporting self-acceptance. As detailed in Table 2, there are unique features associated with multiplicity, DID and depersonalization–derealization disorder, which warrant individual exploration, terminology and support.

the creators of the TOSD mentioning other forms of plurality and the need to study them

Dissociation in Hypnosis and Mediumship Our definition of dissociation pertains to a division of the personality in the context of trauma. We are aware that this division may also occur in hypnosis and mediumship, that several other definitions of dissociation also address these other contexts, and that there are some indications that dissociation in these other contexts is also best understood as a division of personality. For example, Hilgard's well-known “hidden observer,” as found in some highly hypnotizable subjects, involves a dissociative part of the personality that is endowed with consciousness and self-consciousness, but the phenomenon is disputed (e.g., CitationKihlstrom, 1998; CitationKirsch & Lynn, 1998). Mediumship may involve conscious and self-conscious dissociative parts of the personality (CitationBraude, 1995). However, dissociation in mediums is in several regards different from dissociation in DID (CitationMoreira-Almeida, Neto, & Cardeña, 2008). The possible involvement of consciousness and self-consciousness in dissociated controls in hypnosis and in dissociative parts in mediumship needs to be examined in more detail before a conclusive general definition of dissociation can be formulated.

the ICD and DSM's exclusions. notably, the ICD uses the same language for its "boundary with normality" as it does for the alters themselves.

(EG is "for example", so it is not the only possibility it's excluding)

(note criteria C and D)

[cereal17]

First art post on this account.

If there’s one character that truly brings me comfort, it’s Alune. Technically, the species she’s from isn’t mine, however I have essentially dominated the species by almost single handedly making enough OCs to fill the entire population-

But that’s besides the point-

Alune is a tarcadian, a warrior who can turn into a bird (her specifically a harpy eagle), her sole purpose to crush her enemies: the Nervemites.

As a soldier class, she’s very skilled with a variety of weapons, but her primary ones are good ol’ throwing knives (don’t be surprised, they pack a punch with spikes that deploy once they hit their target!)

Alune is around 7 feet tall and is on the average height/borderline shorter end of the height spectrum for her species, however she makes up for her height in muscle. She’s a very strong tarcadian, being able to take on someone 3 times her strength/size, as her individual ability is super strength!

Regarding other aspects of her appearance, the horns are not part of her head, but rather something her species get made for themselves when they achieve a major accomplishment - it is standard for tarcadians to eventually all have a set of horns made unique to the individual.

Alune has a tattoo on the tops of each of her hands, her right being the letter G, and the left being the letter M in her language, these are the first letters of her mother’s names.

Alune’s name comes from the word ‘Lunar’!

Alune is the most loyal friend you could ever have. Her confidence, quick thinking, and bold demeanor made her the perfect leader for her brood (a term for a group of tarcadians of similar age that grow up together). Since she as a nestling, she was always wanting to take charge, and while one do the younger ones of her brood, she was incredibly resilient and was never afraid to speak her mind about what she wanted.

While her confidence is infectious, it makes her significantly more stubborn than her peers, causing her to butt heads with others and having trouble admitting when she’s struggling, or when she’s wrong. This has unfortunately been her biggest obstacle as a person, causing her to break multiple personal relationships because she cannot set her ego to the side to hear someone else’s perspective.

Alune isn’t the smartest tool in the shed, while she’s very quick in combative situations, she isn’t as book smart as she is street smart (but don’t tell her that, because she’s always right-) She struggles with dysgraphia, and has to do all of her paperwork on a tablet instead of with a paper and pen.

While stubborn, Alune is a very strong, and deeply caring individual. The wellbeing of her friends, family, brood mates, and colleagues is incredibly important to her. She’s a great shoulder to lean on, someone you can always go to if you need to cry; this gives her a sense of responsibility that she’s responsible for the physical along with mental wellbeing for those around her. She’s Carrie’s a lot of unnecessary weight on her shoulders that she will never disclose due to her pride, after all if she isn’t the perfect Alune everyone sees her as.. who is she?

So much of Aline’s confidence is an act she puts on to not worry her crew, and most of the time she is a pretty energetic individual.. but there’s those particular nights when she thinks about her purpose in life, in the war.. and questions her very existence. If this is was all she was made for, did it really mattered if she lived or died? But she’d never do it, her brood counts on her, and she never breaks a promise. She’s frequently seen as reliable and someone most people can trust and count on.

A lot of people would call Alune egotistical and some have said she’s narcissistic, but her response? “Is it really so bad to strive to be the best at something?”

“It’s funny how the most confident individuals can also be some of the most insecure,” one of her peers noted.

She’s a very flirtatious individual who has 4 lovely partners that she absolutely adores names Recu, Eelvi, Scabren, and Rtexea; however they do not adore her dirty jokes (well… one does-)

Alune suffers from sleep walking.. and fighting, as with her super strength it causes excess energy that she has to keep up by eating massive amounts of food and exercising frequently. If she doesn’t get out the pent up energy, she’s prone to kicking her partners out of bed, or wandering around the ship.

Some of her quirks include the following:

- Chirping when her ear is pulled

- Sneezing if you boop her nose

- Upper lip twitching when annoyed or focused

- Chewing pens

- Unable to sit still, needs compression on various parts of her body to be able to focus

- Clicking and whistling to show she’s thinking or surprised

- Cocking an eyebrow when annoyed

- Voice breaks/cracks that are almost whistle-like when making high pitched sounds, laughing, or speaking in higher pitched tones

I’ve never found a proper voice claim for Alune, on the account that I can’t find a voice that would account for her little voice cracks that she gets (especially when she laughs, her voice cracks/breaks when her laugh reaches higher pitches)

Alune’s bird form is a harpy eagle named Goldwing, which tarcadians describe being in their bird forms more like driving a car than being the bird itself.

Alune is a character I go whenever I need someone to lean on, because out of everyone, she’s the one I know I can count on without any fear of judgement.

Let me know if you have any questions about her! I’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts! (Please I desperately want to ramble to someone about this ;w;)

Credit for the creator of the tarcadians goes to @zombiecicada

[dramadramallama]

Love Supremacy - brain rot part 3 (hopefully that's it, last part, i'm done PHEW)

As stated here, the story within a story structure makes for a cool viewing experience. Different readings for different levels.

Layer 1 - Myung-ha abandons himself Layer 2 - Limbo: an intermediary, temporary, blurry state Layer 3 - The Game, roleplaying yourself (Layer 4 - Us, watching the show haha)

It grants both the audience, and the characters a chance to get a new perspective. 

As Myung-ha sinks into himself, he has to rise back up.

The game framing is interesting, as it makes Myung-ha an active participant in his own fate. He is more likely to act in the safety of a game, with defined, clear goals, and “easy” missions to complete on the side of the main quest. It compartmentalizes the universe in neat little game notifications, and relieves some of the pressure of the hardest part of life. Finding happiness? Pfff, EASY, right?

Myung-ha is given the opportunity to do what all of us have probably wished at one point: re-start, from the latest save point, where it all went wrong. As argued in part one, the characters aren’t just words on paper, or pixels in a game. They have agency, just like Myung-ha.

1. Mirrors/Symmetry

2. Fate, Free Will, and Happiness

▶️3. Game/Reality

Very soon, it appears the lines between the so-called game and so-called reality are getting extremely blurry. 

First, the stakes are incredibly high for a simple game. The penalty is death. 

Myung-ha doesn’t seem fazed by the threat of death, he’s not scared of it. It could be because it's "just a game," but I personally think it's because he's technically already "dead." He ignores the penalty and focuses on his mission(s) at face value. Subconsciously, he works towards changing his own fate, and he gets there!

Debuffs (negative effects) need to be corrected

His efforts are slightly slowed by “debuffs.” These incidents happen due to Yeo-woon’s general dislike for everyone (including himself). They slow the process down enough to teach Myung-ha how to build friendships and relationships. The trick here is that Myung-ha is supposed to learn by proxy, through Yeo-woon’s self-love journey, how to love and be loved, and speak his true feelings.

“Bad” things seem to happen because Yeo-woon isn't quite ready for that unstoppable wave of affection Myung-ha unleashes. At first, the debuffs are incredibly mild and inoffensive (Fondness/Affection level around -10 or -5 = a LEAF falling on his face, a defective streetlight, and spicy tteokbokki lmao) and are easily transformed into something positive, bringing them closer.

But Yeo-woon’s affection is directly related to how honest Myung-ha is with himself and others. For example, he is disappointed to realize the urgency of Myung-ha’s text was fake (="Myung-ha doesn't trust me like I trust him"), and he doesn’t reassure Yeo-woon about the fact that he smells like someone else (lol cat energy). By refusing to open himself up to be cared for, it backfires with direct consequences. 

Myung-ha is allergic to listening to his own advice. All "do as I say, not as I do." When he told Yeo-woon "when someone cares for you, just accept it, why do you have to [question it?]" I almost screamed. We're all mental health experts when it comes to someone other than ourselves lol.

As for most things in life, the answer is balance. His side quests involve, for example, making other friends, who can be reliable and provide help in return. Kyung-hoon helps with a part time job and Sang-won offers to drive him to Yeon-woo.

Also interesting to note, his knee jerk reaction to anyone trying to enter his sphere is to close himself off, keep some distance. The above is in response to someone using casual honorifics (hyung/oppa).

Kyung-hoon, as if expressing Myung-ha's interiority, explains he's ok with long distance dating. Why? Simple: he likes his boyfriend, and wants to enjoy every moment until it ends. This is in direct opposition to what Myung-ha chooses: he places the certainty of pain/suffering above the mere possibility of happiness.

(...relatable tbh)

Myung-ha's inner desires clash with his depressive state constantly, and it gets worse after Yeo-woon’s affection levels dramatically drop from a positive number, back to zero, and then negative again, due to Myung-ha struggling to accept, and balance his own feelings. Too much love for everyone but himself, too scared to need anyone who might end up leaving him. The debuffs get more serious (Grandma gets hospitalized), and he starts fainting. Myung-ha is falling back into old traps, and like vicious circle, by trying to fix the errors incorrectly, in turn, makes the system shut down.

Thankfully, he does come to understand things remain worthy, even though he cannot have them forever.

The mysterious texts from an unknown number

Myung-ha faints several times, like things aren't quite going right. The nonsensical texts keep pouring in.

These read, to me, like close friends/family grieving, like they're in a columbarium (?). Besides the one from his sunbae at the end, they're all unsigned. There's one text saying they have "followed someone wearing the same clothes as [Myung-ha], knowing it couldn't be [him]", and one about a broken vase. Are they all from his sunbae, relaying the things said to him once? Or after his death? At his funeral? As a prayer? Thinking of him?

While the game server experiences extreme instability, memories, “real-life” happenings parasite the safety of the game.

Very personal elements keep permeating the game play; lines go beyond blurry, and disappear entirely.

Elements outside of the game keep popping up. Soon, the edges of the gameplay aren’t so clear-cut anymore, as Myung-ha gets more precise with defining happiness. His own handwriting shows up in the game notifications.

The answers are his own: he filled in the blanks himself. But he constantly tries to apply them to someone else.

It becomes impossible to dissociate the game from Myung-ha’s existence. I’m sure I haven’t caught them all, but there are many instances where Myung-ha's reality bleeds into the game.

Bubbly, water sounds are heard at key moments, and before long, his "memories" with his sunbae also get a underwater backdrop. To say nothing of the water/wave imagery around Myung-ha.

His world is leaking through the seams, the wave is rolling him over, and he’s sinking deeper. Which way will he come up? Water symbolism is always, MUAH, chef's kiss.

He is given ultimate freedom - a symbolic pen, to overwrite the program, and solve the system errors

Myung-ha for better or for worse, whether he likes it or not, is in control, quite literally, of the game, and by extension, of his life. When he starts to understand he's the origin of the errors, he panics, chooses to end it early, and saves Yeo-woon's fate over his.

That same pen has been used to write all the answers to the questions that appear in the game. He chooses Yeo-woon over himself. The game fails, the universe wavers. Beautiful contradiction: he fights to stay. Just like the way he regretted it after walking into the water. His true intentions come bubbling back up to the surface, and he runs to Yeo-woon, away from death and towards life. He doesn't want to disappear.

Time's up

In the previous post, I went more in depth about how he only gives, never takes. He doesn’t reach out to be pulled out of the water, thinking himself to be alone, and his system slowly starts shutting down. 

The scenes end abruptly, we jump from seemingly disconnected locations, faster, while Myung-ha frantically tries to outrun his own errors. I’ve seen some criticism of the pace and editing getting a little hectic in the later episodes, but I think it was purposefully reflecting Myung-ha’s state. 

Yeo-woon, with his newfound agency, defies his own story ending. By changing the game’s core mission to “make Myung-ha happy” he counters Myung-ha's one-sided choice and the balance can be restored.

CONCLUSION // PLEASE LET THIS END

"Despite knowing the journey and where it leads, I embrace it and welcome every moment." (Ted Chiang, Stories of Your Life and Others)

It is unclear whether Myung-ha gets a redo in a new reality, or if he gets to enjoy his own personal heaven after death. The game might be a physical representation of Myung-ha’s mind. It’s as real as any other intangible concept, like love, or happiness. There's definitely something to be said about the aspect ratio changing depending on where he is, but...

But to me, it doesn’t really matter. It's not where he ends up, it's how he got there.

I love that we open with Myung-ha abandoning his life at sea, and close on him returning to the water for a new start.

And I love that Myung-ha loves his own story: on his date with Yeo-woon, he gets emotional over the movie because the Monster Croc is "an alien" (COUGH Myung-ha) who joins the Zombie Gorilla (COUGH Yeon-woo) in his world to "save it"...

[thomine]

search in vain

xingqiu x reader, 1.6k words

somehow, someone always finds you when you're secretly chilling during work hours.

general audiences, modern au, xingqiu's family owns a bookstore, xingqiu's ugly penmanship, some boss/employee dynamics, also a bit of rich/poor troupe, not proofread

note: work tag :: bookstore au (day 21 of au august 2023)

The storeroom of Feiyun Book Store is as bustling as the store itself. Employees rush in and out to meet the demands of customers, yet, despite the traffic, you’ve found a comfortable corner to tuck yourself away from your responsibilities. Behind the piles of freshly wrapped books, there is a tiny area hidden from view for boxes of damaged, imperfect, and vandalized goods. Everything is as still as a graveyard, and your back is pressed against the wall as these boxes act as your fortress.

The book in your hands is one of such books. Its once sharp tips are chipped, spine bent, and it will never find a home outside these grey walls, so you like to think giving it your attention, no matter how brief, is mercy.

It’s marked as a fantasy novel. Once, it was a genre on its own. There were thousands of books with a similar premise: a hero who seeks good and does all he can against evil with flashy superhuman powers, but it has since been clumped with the least liked novels of the century.

The story isn’t that bad, although it has not captured your full attention, and you perk up when you hear unusually loud footsteps.

The footsteps grow louder.

The second son of the founder of Feiyun walks past the tower of boxes. You raise the book higher to cover your face. The footsteps stop and a second passes. The moment you decide to peek, Xingqiu had to turn his head. His eyes meet yours through the slim gap between boxes, and as you sigh in defeat, he makes his way towards you.

“So this is your new hiding spot,” he says. You scoot to your side to make space for him. “Guess it’s our hiding spot now,” he cheekily adds when he squeezes beside you, shoulder almost touching yours.

“Not for long if you don’t keep quiet,” you whisper, narrowing your eyes because his smile is aggravating. “Was anyone following you?”

“I’m not a beginner.”

If middle names are a thing in the city of Liyue, ‘disappearing’ would be his. But that’s beside the point right now. Your new hiding spot of 3 days is at stake, and as large as the storeroom is, you’re running out of options. Plus, the untouched books act like a personal library which makes you fond of this area more than previous.

“Still, the moment you disappear the whole village looks for you.”

As if to prove your point, Xu calls for the young master. Poor Xu. To others, he’s the cashier of Feiyun Book Store, but everyone who works in this franchise knows he’s Xingqiu’s victim. When—not if, because everyone knows that the first son of the founder of Feiyun Book Store might not be reliable to single-handedly maintain the business so—Xingqiu takes the mantle, Xu will be promoted to Xingqiu’s secretary. It’s a lucrative and prestigious role, although debatable if it’s worth the trouble.

You tense, leaning towards the troublemaker till your shoulder collides with his. He doesn’t seem to care, both at your touch and Xu’s presence.

Xu doesn’t stop in his chase. He runs past the boxes, deeper into the storeroom.

Xingqiu nudges you, and when you look at him, he has the biggest smirk you’ve ever seen.

“I told you. I’m great at this.”

“You literally did nothing.”

“And neither did you. We work well in a team.”

You roll your eyes, trying to swallow a smile. Then, you return to your book. Whatever he wants to do is his business, but after a paragraph or so, you can’t focus. You look to your side, curious about the second son of the founder of Feiyun. He should have a book with him, but he’s busy scribbling away on a piece of paper.

He pushes it towards you, and you’re greeted with that familiar yet horrid handwriting. At least it has improved enough such that you can differentiate his ‘h’ and ‘n’s.

Isn’t that the book I recommended?

You take a glance at the cover, mostly for show as if you didn’t know. He passes you his pen, and you reply.

You probably noticed me here because this book cover caught your eye… I shouldn’t have read it.

He holds back a chuckle behind his hand. When he gives you a glance, his bright gold eyes feel like a warning as if he’s pinned down your weaknesses and will pick on them one by one, but there’s also a softness to them you recognise. It’s the same shine when he shares his thoughts on books and chivalry, on dreams and aspirations. It’s reserved only for Xingqiu—not the second son of the founder of Feiyun Book Store.

He slides the note to you, a new line written under yours.

You frown at the penmanship, needing to go through his words over and over again until you get a gist of what he’s trying to say.

Is that an unsold book? You know that’s not how you are supposed to use your employee benefits.

It was in the discarded pile, so it was already in this state before I touched it. I wouldn’t be reading this book if not for finding it here. You should be thankful instead of reporting me to your father. Either way, books here are so expensive.

We pay you well. You’re just stingy.

“Young master?” Xu’s voice echoes in the area. His hurried footsteps return, and it passes the both of you yet again. His desperate calls remain resolute as he dashes away.

You should really return. You give Xingqiu a long, hard stare. Scrunching your eyebrows for added effect.

That’s unfair. Here you are, enjoying the time of your life with a nice book. How long have you been here? I’ve only had a few minutes of fun.

Oh please. It’s not my fault you’re Mr Popular. Why are you here anyways? (P.S. I guess it’s been about 10 minutes.)

A lady wanted to ask me out for tea. (P.S. 10 minutes is significant… It’s still working hours, you know?)

Don’t you like tea? Why are you running away from her? (P.S. Your penmanship sucks so much I can safely ignore what you wrote &lt;3)

“Actually,” you whisper, “I don’t think Xu will return. We can speak softly. Your penmanship is really hard to read.”

Xingqiu shakes his head, writes something down, and passes you the piece of paper.

I need to practice, right?

You roll your eyes but take the paper and continue the silent conversation. In the corner of your eye, you note how he’s entertained by your annoyance.

You didn’t answer my question. You write.

Xingqiu takes the pen from you and pauses. He’s staring at the paper.

Tea is not something to be consumed frivolously, and as a daughter of a high-positioned man, she should know that.

You have a few rebuttals to his claim, particularly on how he carelessly hands you packets of tea to try for a report on its taste. Something about gathering more than one opinion before he sends it to a famous opera singer. But this seems to be bothering him more than usual. He would have opened his own book and read with you if it was any ordinary day.

You know you can say no, right? In that flowery way of the second son of the founder of Feiyun Book Store.

He frowns.

I can’t. Even more as the second son.

He looks at you, and for a moment you forget he’s your future boss. Instead, before you is Xingqiu, someone stuck in a role he didn’t ask to be in.

You return your attention to the paper. All you can write is Oh. You aren’t sure what’s really happening. The world of the rich is a world you aren’t privy too, only that it is a cursed blessing.

He tugs on the edge of the paper, and you surrender it along with his pen.

The situation is complicated, so I won’t bore you, but I just need a little time to rest. Can you lend me your shoulder?

You squint, placing the paper near your eyes. His penmanship truly is horrible, but you’re acting this way because his request is preposterous! If anyone catches his head on your shoulder, you don’t have an excuse. Sure, you can say the second son of Feiyun Book Store is tired and just so happen to have chanced upon you as you’re neglecting your own duties as an employee of his future bookstore…

No, that’s even worse. You really have nothing to say to cover both your’s and his ass—except he probably doesn’t need you to reason for him. Still, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared, although preparing does hurt your brain as you wreck for ideas.

At one point you give up your act in trying to read his message. He takes the pen from your hands and your grip on the paper naturally loosens.

When the paper returns to you, you don’t have time to process his new message. He stands. Instinctively, you grab onto his wrist, only to realise what you’re doing. You release your grip and hide your face behind the paper, this time reading what he says.

I think I will make my leave. We do not want you to lose your job too early, do we?

“You can stay,” you say.

He smiles. When he sits at your side, you tap on your shoulder.

“For Xingqiu.”

His smile grows wider, and once his head connects with your shoulder, his breathing turns slow and heavy.

There are a few who rush through the storeroom shouting for their young master, but they cannot find him.

author's note: struggled so much with this fic. the total document added up to 6.8k words and it almost took me a month. big shoutout to ekulo who gave me the advice to start in the middle rather than the beginning because the story was getting out of control, LOL. thank you to myself as well for forcing myself to sit down and get this written or else no dinner for me (half-joke).

[batsplat]

hello dr. batsplat! in your gossip post you listed the post-aragón 2015 rumor that vale went on to interrogate dani about why he raced him so hard, and how that is at the same time wildly unlikely but also would be fascinating from the character standpoint. i watched aragón a couple of times for my own purposes, but there were some bits along the way that made me think of it

first, it's the pre-race comment made by jorge's team manager wilko zeelenberg: "one: one never writes off valentino rossi, and two: we'll need some help from dani pedrosa". the british comms then milked it for all its worth. and after the race, in parc fermé, vale says in his interview, "i needed those five points more!" which is like. not a particularly outrageous thing to say, especially combined with vale's joking/self-deprecating tone, but, as you rightfully pointed out, marca is not a reliable source (don't trust them farther than you can throw their print copy...) you also said there was a second story they combined with the first one, about vale crashing a honda party in phillip island - so did the article come out after the australian race - or even after sepang? because then marca's implication would be that vale counted dani into the spanish conspiracy even if he didn't verbalize it

which overall tells us nothing in terms of like. Did It Actually Happen, HOWEVER. i, personally, think it would be fun and juicy if it DID and kind of marked the start of vale's descent. because, as you've also said, vale excels in one-on-ones, and always had dani covered... but not in aragón. is that the point where doubt starts creeping into his mind, that it's not the same as it was before, that he's not the same as he was? (i may be wildly misreading and dramatizing everything). and a LOT of people commented on how hard dani raced there, which is- first of all, why wouldn't he. but this, combined with his interactions with jorge (that podium is a pedrenzo shipper's paradise), maybe seemed... a touch suspicious.

yeah the story was published after sepang! but... uh, I'm gonna be honest, I wrote that gossip post quite quickly, did not check any of my sources and, well, I'm very sorry to the writers at el pais because I accidentally got my spanish papers mixed up. so, um, my sincere apologies to el pais for calling you marca, it will NOT happen again. here's the article which I'd copy pasted into my actual, y'know, notes (it was behind a paywall):

even though the dani rumour to the best of my knowledge originated here, I've seen only that one spread elsewhere - not the marc one. which isn't really surprising. getting mad at dani feels kinda newsworthy, kinda quirky, who gets mad at dani right. plus, the marc story really isn't all that believable. look, we won't ever know for sure.... but valentino interrupting a honda party to interrogate marc fits in with quite literally nothing we've heard from any involved parties, ever? marc has repeatedly said the sepang thing took him by surprise, that valentino had his phone number and didn't use it and all that, valentino has never made reference to this conversation, nobody at honda has ever mentioned anything like this... you watch the sepang presser and you just don't buy marc went into that with forewarning, right? how would his emotional reaction work in this hypothetical scenario? 'wow, valentino already complained to me directly about the stuff he's now accusing me of during a party a few days ago, but I guess I'm still surprised because I didn't think he'd talk about it in a presser'? like... it just doesn't feel right, does it

and, yeah, if you're reading an article and most of the paragraph you're on kinda sounds like bullshit, then you're going to treat the first two sentences with some scepticism too. the dani one is more plausible in that it hasn't been repeatedly directly contradicted by both major parties, but it does also feel. odd. this isn't how valentino handles his conflicts. if you want to know how valentino handles his conflicts, it's quite literally sepang 2015 - that weekend feels completely in-keeping with his conflict management (and escalation) in a way this aragon story just..... doesn't? he actively evades a private conversation with biaggi, he conducts his warfare with sete completely in the open (cf sepang 2004), same with casey, with jorge, with marc... I think what I wrote in the gossip post is that it'd be interesting because it would feel out of character, in a way that I don't really think anything else in 2015 is really does for valentino? again, I don't want to dismiss the article out of hand, but it does read more like an op-ed than actual reporting. and just to clarify, the piece isn't exactly trying to argue that valentino thought dani was involved with any conspiracy. it's more a general argument that valentino that year was unravelling, that he was demanding some distance from fans, that he'd manage to silence iannone (?) and so on. which, there's some truth to that - but even if everything in the piece is factually correct, the whole thing is pretty shoddy journalism. the aragon story has never to my knowledge been corroborated by another source - and the outlets I usually treat as reputable for motogp news didn't even report on it. could be true, might not be true, but it is very much a rumour spread around by a source with skin in the game

that being said! I do completely buy valentino was more frustrated by that race than he let on in public - and yes, his joking about how he would have really needed those points does encourage that impression. and yes, it is also pretty noteworthy as basically the only time dani bests him in extended combat. it's some very sturdy defending by dani's standards, a bit of a one-off performance in his career. by that point in the championship, every race felt extremely significant... you could say that race bears some surface level similarity to estoril 2006, where valentino lost a very close race to toni elias who really wasn't getting the better off him all that much (well, I suppose that one time he shoved valentino off-track at turkey 2007 lol). maybe also a little phillip island 2009, come to think of it, just a different championship picture. though those two are a little different - and in both estoril and phillip island I reckon it's fair to say valnetino was motivated to be more cautious than he was at aragon. I think it's... hm. I don't hate the interpretation it's the beginning of the end - honestly it is fun for narrative reasons! it's fun to look at turning points! but the way I personally read the 2015 season, I kinda think once you pass assen, pretty much every race contributes to that downfall? in one way or another

let's quickly go through them. *takes deep breath* in sachsenring, you've got a version of marc who is still clearly hung up about assen and shows as much in his presser answers. he does more or less manage to get over it during the summer break, which is the chance for a bit of a reset for everyone, but by that point the damage has already been done. from then on, there's several moments in these pressers where marc is getting asked about the title fight, is saying that 'well valentino is slower but he's been very consistent!!' again and again, is being constantly asked about his potential role as kingmaker and it's all very sword of damocles given valentino is sitting Right There... indy and brno work as this duo of races that make the title feel like it's slipping away from valentino, and at brno valentino relinquishes the championship lead for the first time (if only on countback). at brno, marc also decides to kinda harass him during qualifying (he'd already done his last flying lap so wasn't just catching a tow) - and they're asked about it in press, they joke about it, but it's just another moment where once again.... if that's one of the things valentino remembers from that weekend? not ideal. silverstone is just stress, and yes it massively helps valentino in the championship, the rain was a gift from god... but also you've got this niggling sensation of 'wow marc really is harassing valentino around that track, he kinda wasn't in control of that bike', and then marc crashes - and you end that weekend with a sense that jorge actually got a lucky break of his own to limit the points damage. misano is again helpful for valentino's championship, again is heightened stress due to the flag-to-flag conditions, again there's a sliding doors moment or two where you feel valentino should have gotten more of a points buffer out it, it's also the heightened stress of his home race and how the fans Just Will Not Leave Him Alone... plus silverstone and misano are on-track confrontations with marc that valentino has explicitly referred back to as moments where his suspicions were aroused. aragon, never been one of his favourite tracks where he was already in damage limitation mode but then would have expected to get past dani in direct combat... not the easiest of tracks for making overtakes stick and gets repeatedly cut back and frustrated (just ask marc about that kind of aragon experience lol). the fact that motegi/phillip island/sepang is a flyaway triple header, exhausting and away from home and already so very late into the season... everything about motegi was extremely stressful - that moment in the race when it looked like valentino might be proper fucked when dani got past until it became clear he actually could follow dani past jorge on his slightly healthier tyres in that kinda odd race. after the race, reporters commented that this was as physically exhausted as they'd ever seen valentino - who had worked so hard on his fitness for this season but, y'know, age comes for us all... this was taking so much more out of him than it ever had. and then you get to phillip island!! a mere week later! where he never quite looked like he had the pace for the victory, but kept himself in that lead fight through sheer intransigence and could take advantage of the other riders getting in each others' ways - before ultimately coming away with a disappointing result. and then sepang is a mere week after that, but I've heard that one at least was a quiet one

the point here is that it's a cumulative effect. I think aragon does stand out a little bit in that it's arguably the first of only two times that season valentino actually gets bested in wheel-to-wheel combat. but... I mean, his issue that year definitely wasn't the w2w stuff and all in all he would've LOVED to Actually Fight Jorge. it's a lot harder to fuck with a rival when they're always ten seconds up or down the road. I also don't think he really needed a moment of realisation that season about his waning abilities as a rider. he'd had four years worth of realisation that he wasn't the rider he was in his prime any more! stuff like aragon may have served as a brutal reminder, but at the end of the day 2015 was quite explicitly a campaign of relentless maximisation, a title charge built on podium rather than victories (see here). 2015 is such a defensive title campaign that his prevailing mode isn't cockiness... it's creeping desperation. he was also constantly being reminded by literally everyone that jorge was faster than him (including by marc, repeatedly), which he never complained about but like... how could that not piss you off? or maybe not even piss you off as much as it just... makes your resolve even greater, makes the stakes even higher to you. nobody thought you could do this after valencia 2013, everyone thought it was over for you, now they still won't trust in your abilities and you have to prove them wrong... the worst thing about aragon imo was that it comes just... as a reminder, as a way of twisting in the knife a little further. one more frustration in a season that felt full of them

the fun thing about 2015 narratively is that it's like,, custom-built to gradually chip away at valentino's sanity, at a time when he'd mostly ditched all his old tricks. he's reserved in his race-by-race celebrations (watch catalunya 2009/assen 2015 side by side and this might as well be a different person), he's not massively attempting to fuck with jorge in the press, he shows uncharacteristic restraint every time marc gets a wee bit weird towards him... he's just keeping his head down, working to get his tenth. but, well, in an odd way I do think that probably... didn't help? like, the reason why sepang is so fucked is because valentino didn't just have a normal fight with marc after assen. this entire season was a pressure cooker, and valentino just didn't use any of his usual outlets to blow off some steam. which is dramatically fun and juicy in itself - if valentino had just been kinda normal 2009 levels of bitchy towards jorge throughout the course of the season, if he'd had a go at marc after assen, hell, even if he'd insinuated dani was pursuing a pro-jorge agenda during aragon... I'm not saying bickering with your rivals is a healthy way of dealing with stress, but kinda a little bit? if that's how you've been doing your title fights historically, minus 2006 (which does in itself maybe go to show a little bit of feuding did help him), then if you're just going cold turkey... suddenly you get a sepang 2015 coming out of nowhere. because you have all this stuff festering inside valentino and he didn't just have a go at a rival to clear his head a bit

here's my 'pro aragon 2015 as a turning point' case: I was mentally going through his title-winning years and trying to think of him actually losing this type of duel and... well, he doesn't really do a lot of it? nothing in 2001 I don't think, then you have those two barros wins in 2002 (the streets won't forget) but the title is already extremely wrapped up by then, maybe ukawa at welkom, 2003... okay, that one's the outlier - arguably welkom and catalunya, definitely le mans and sachsenring - but crucially the sachsenring defeat pissed him off so bad it sent him into a bit of an existential crisis... which does go to show that repeated w2w defeats can and will get to him. 2004... I mean, maybe le mans at a stretch. 2005 there isn't really anything. (2006 has estoril and 2007 has qatar + catalunya.) 2008 has... well, depends on whether you count estoril has a prolonged duel, same with what you call 2009 phillip island. but especially like,, this second half of the season 'ooh gotta be sensible with the title fight' type duel he only very, very rarely lost. when you consider that plus his direct w2w record against dani... from that pov, I think you can say that aragon 2015 certainly didn't HELP his flagging confidence levels - and neither did having to perceive his teammate throwing himself onto dani in parc fermé right in front of his salad. that season is death by a thousand cuts, but some cuts will always sting particularly badly. aragon was right before the triple header... perhaps you can call it a tipping point for the ruin to come

[fursasaida]

If you have a bunch of trees, and you chop them down to make paper or lumber or whatever, you can sell the paper or lumber or whatever for money, but on the other hand trees store carbon and cutting them down is bad for climate change. If instead you do not chop down the trees, that is good for the environment, and it is a great innovation of modern finance that, now, you can get paid for not chopping down the trees. This is called “carbon credits.” There are measurement problems.

If you mine Bitcoin, you use a lot of electricity to run computers to perform calculations to get Bitcoins for yourself, which you can sell for money. But this is bad for the environment, because it uses electricity that is probably generated in ways that release carbon.[1] If you were to stop mining Bitcoin, conversely, that would be good for the environment. Can you get paid, though, for not mining Bitcoin? Oh yes, modern finance has solved that one too:

Bitcoin miner Riot Platforms Inc. made millions of dollars by selling power rather than producing the tokens in the second quarter as the crypto-mining industry continued to grapple with the impact of low digital asset prices.

The Castle Rock, Colorado-based company had $13.5 million in power curtailment credits during the quarter, while generating $49.7 million in mining revenue. Riot booked $27.3 million in power curtailment credits last year and $6.5 million in 2021 from power sales to the Electric Reliability Council of Texas, which is the grid operator for the Lone Star state. …

The company had $18.3 million in power credits in June and July based on its latest monthly operational updates, including $14.8 million in power curtailment credits received from selling power back to the ERCOT grid at market-driven spot prices under its long-term power contracts and $3.5 million in credits received from participation in ERCOT demand response programs.

Here is the 10-Q; this stuff is described in Note 8. Some of what is going on here is that Riot has a long-term power supply agreement in which TXU Energy Retail Co. has to supply it with electricity at fixed prices through 2030, and Riot has the option to sell the power back to TXU, at market rates, for credit against its future electric bills, when the spot price exceeds the contract price. But part of it is demand response, where ERCOT pays Riot cash for using less than its typical electrical load during periods of peak demand.

As with carbon credits, there are measurement problems; I have never mined a single Bitcoin, yet ERCOT has never sent me a penny for my forbearance. Still, how great is modern finance? Twenty years ago, if you had told people that one day they could get paid for not mining Bitcoin, they would have said “what?” But now it is possible. Modern finance created the problem (Bitcoin mining) and the solution (paying people not to mine Bitcoin); the overall result is that nothing happens and yet people get paid. Just a miracle of financial engineering.

Also: Riot is getting paid for not using electricity, but if you are an enterprising Bitcoin miner surely you should look into getting paid for not using carbon when you are not mining Bitcoin. Riot is not there yet, but it is possible to imagine a warming world in which energy prices go up and Bitcoin prices go down and Bitcoin miners can get paid more for not mining Bitcoin than for mining Bitcoin. Giant fortunes will be made by people who got in early to the business of not mining Bitcoin. The future is so good, man.

This is from Matt Levine's "Money Stuff" newsletter (which yes is under the Bloomberg masthead), which I highly recommend if you want some kind of awareness of what the finance yahoos are doing but want to feel like you're hearing it from a human person

[thorraborinn]

Hey, do you know of any paper or something examining the Baldr myth critically besides Anatoly Liberman's paper? Also, what do you think about Dr. Crawford's Loki misconceptions video or his collab video with ReligionForBreakfast?. I know you said in one of your posts that the question to whether or not Loki was worshiped historically has not been argued successfully either way, so that's why I'm asking if you've seen it since in one of them and others he says Loki wasn't worshiped bc no place names. Sorry if this is too hard of an ask. I decided to ask you since you're the only person who I know won't make up bullshit/give moral reasons to questions about Loki historically/mythically.

A lot of scholars have written about the myth, though not necessarily in the granular detail or from the same angle that Liberman did. I think that more has been written about Loki which touches on the Baldr myth than works which are specifically about the Baldr myth. Here are some that come to mind, and they all have references to others.

John Lindow has written a lot about it, including a book, Murder and Vengeance among the Gods: Baldr in Scandinavian Mythology (which I haven't read). His article "The Tears of the Gods: A Note on the Death of Baldr in Scandinavian Mythology" can be read for free on JSTOR, which is valuable if for no other reason than his very quick rapid-fire summary of the main threads in the history of research up to that point, which also constitutes a good reading list for exactly this question. Lindow also contributed the "Baldr" chapter to Brepols' The Pre-Christian Religions of the North series (which I have also not read).

Jens Peter Schjødt mentions it throughout his book Initiation Between Worlds: Structure and Symbolism in Pre-Christian Scandinavian Religion. He's mostly concerned with looking at the relationship between the world of the living and the world of the dead, so those are the aspects of the myth he focuses on. Schjødt has more experience writing about Loki than about Baldr, but of course you can't write about one without the other.

Kevin Wanner, best known for writing Snorri Sturluson and the Edda: The Conversion of Cultural Capital in Medieval Scandinavia, wrote an article called "Cunning Intelligence in Norse Myth: Loki, Óðinn, and the Limits of Sovereignty," which is mostly about the relationship between Óðinn and Loki (including the Baldr story), and the relationship of the pair to human people, especially poets. It takes a little while to get to the point, but I think it's worth it.

Though it hardly even mentions Baldr, one of the most influential recent works on Loki is "Loki, the Vätte, and the Ash Lad: A Study Combining Old Scandinavian and Late Material” by Eldar Heide. I'm going to bring this up again soon.

Anyway, to the second part of the question, I'd rather get kicked in the solar plexus by a mule than watch a YouTube video so I'm not going to comment on what Crawford says there specifically, but the "Loki doesn't have any place-names" argument is old and usually comes in two varieties. If Crawford came up with a third, then I apologize for the oversight, but I imagine it's one of these:

(the good one): We know from the sagas that naming places for gods was a common way to show devotion, and from archaeology that many places named for gods were important ritual centers; furthermore places named for gods tend to concentrate near centers of social and political power. Therefore, if we're able to demonstrate that place-name evidence was passed down reliably from medieval or earlier times, it can be one of the strongest indicators available to us of cultic activity directed toward specific named gods and its presence allows us to make much more confident statements about worship than we can make in their absence. While this is inherently limited, because it necessarily privileges the beliefs of the people who had the social position to declare names of places and to direct the construction of ritual sites, it's one of the best pieces of evidence available to us.

(the bad one): oh yeah, no, if they don't have any places named for them they weren't worshiped. Yeah, they definitely would have named a place after him and it definitely would have been unchanged until modern times. No, there were no other forms of devotion, just naming stuff.

I don't recognize the statement "the evidence does not permit us to say that there was a cult of Loki" as equivalent to saying "we can say definitively that there was not a cult of Loki."

Moreover, I think it's a failure of imagination to think that all devotion would take the same form. I don't imagine that Loki's idol was ever on the highest platform in a major ritual site like Thor's was at Uppsala but that's also not a useful standard, and it seems to me that it's the standard that the place-name argument holds him to. If we look at the Baltic peoples for comparison, they had very different forms of worship for different gods, so the absence of evidence for worship of Žemyna in a context appropriate for the worship of Perkūnas does not mean that Žemyna was not worshiped.

Anyway these days everyone seems to be on the "Loki was just a regular house spirit for many generations before being assimilated into the gods" bandwagon, one that I have disagreements with, but one which is compatible with "Loki was worshiped but not in a way that would result in place-names." Liberman made a case for Loki being a very, very ancient god; and Riccardo Ginevra's etymology of Sígyn requires that Loki's wife already be thousands of years old by the Viking age. There's lots and lots and lots of ways to argue in favor of him having been worshiped, all of which require modification of the word "worship" from the one the place-name-arguers use, so that eventually everyone is talking past each other. At the end of the day, "We don't know" is the actual answer to most of our questions.

[milquetoast27]

The ✨Frame Narrative ✨

The literature nerd in me must be set free at least every now and then. So let's talk about the frame narrative!

A frame narrative is pretty much, a story within a story, and more often than not, the story of someone else being told to you by a narrator (laughs in John Watson narration).

But the frame narrative/direct narrator has so many uses and can impart completely different things based on the context/events of the story! The possibilities honestly feel endless, and I think it is important to know when and when not to use a frame narrative in writing! (Note: it might also be known as a box narrative or a sandwich narrative). I will also be using Sherlock Holmes, Frankenstein, and The Time Machine as my main examples.

The frame narrative is a great tool for immersion. This may seem obvious, but having someone else tell you a story automatically makes the events feel more authentic. This may come about in different ways, such as discovered manuscripts, published chronicles, or as epistles/letters. This can be utilised to place the reader themselves in a different position, for example as Margaret Saville in Frankenstein, or in some cases the reader themselves, such as in the Sherlock Holmes stories. Even so, the direct address from the narrators inevitably will position the reader as a character within the events taking place. From a new angle, information communicated through epistles, posters, newspapers, etc. is an effective method for crafting a world that seems genuine.

It makes the events so much more human. Typically, frame narratives will be in past-tense, the recounting of events already occurred. Because of this, a character like Watson is able to very kindly speed up his recordings for us. If he skips over something boring-- he is able to tell us it is so and move on. An omniescent third-person narrator may have more difficulty getting this task done. Additionally, the presence of a human narrator introduces the wonderful unreliable narrator, which can give us so much information into the biases/true thoughts of the character we are reading from. Although Watson is probably one of the most reliable narrators that have graced fiction, his keen attentiveness to Holmes tells us where his fascination truly lies-- a very good use of 'show, don't tell'. A narrator like Watson is also able to use hindsight to enhance his writing, but because he is crafting a story, he can still conceal important information when he wishes to.

It makes the story feel noteworthy. Because someone has taken the time to write out and tell you this story, it feels more significant and even allegorical. A Christmas Carole, in fact, had a similar effect, as it was typically read out on Christmas Eve. Or the scientist in The Time Machine. The events he witnessed and heard of were simply too extraordinary to not put to paper. While it is subtle, it does communicate his shock at his experience.

Frame narratives can also indicate levels of power. Frankenstein is full of ideas of having the power to tell your own story. The majority of the creature's words come through the mouth of Frankenstein, and then through the letters of Walton, the explorer. Not once does the creature have means of truly speaking for himself, and ultimately had to rely on two others to have his words heard by even one person: Margaret Saville. This is a subtle indicator of his status in the hierarchy between these characters. Or, in The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, the fact that he reads of the singular experience of Imrat Kahn still places the focus on the protagonist, as he reads of someone else.

If I think of more, I'll add them! It's a shame that it's largely older literature (from my experience) that uses this technique. Quite often it's stuff like, "a guy at a pub told me about someone he once knew..." But today, omniescent third-person narrator seems to be preferred. I like over-the-shoulder narration, too, but nothing hits like getting it right from your protagonist.

[merchantarthurn]

hello!!! if you dont mind me asking what kind of white pen do you use for adding little highlights in your art? your art inspired me to start inking and coloring my traditional art and ive been having a lot of fun with it for a year or so now but i can never seem to find a good white gel pen to use 😭

you and me both friend 😭 I have a lot of issues with the ones i've tried and im thinking i might switch to just using white dip-pen inks (shirahama has given the brand she uses it's something like icy-white but i'll have to dig that out again).

the best luck i've had has been the following:

General notes of paint/acrylic markers - be extremely careful of smudging and drying times, both of the pen and whatever you have underneath. For any solvent-based mediums (paints, alcohol markers and ESPECIALLY linework inking) acrylic markers can pick up some of the colour or damage the paper and create smudges and tears. This is relatively easy to avoid so long as you wait for stuff to dry and work in small areas. The paint itself will take a while to dry so I usually let it sit for 30mins-1hr before putting it anywhere near my scanner bed. If you need to work on a larger area and the paper you're working on isn't pretty robust you should probably switch to a paintbrush and just use regular acrylic paint (which has a longer drying time).

I've also found that with smaller pen nibs getting a reliable opacity is an absolute crapshoot lol.

Artistro paint market pen - really good when fresh, but god help you if you go without using it for too long after you start using it. it'll gunk up and I don't know how to fix them. They are relatively cheap and come in packs at least. Doesn't seem to have larger sizes though.

Posca paint pens (various sizes) - far more robust than artistro if you store them right but regrettably more pricey. I've also found the finest nibbed white pen to be... deeply underwhelming. It never seems to have adequate pigment no matter how long I shake and prime it. By contrast the artistro gave the same sized line much more consistently, but at the cost of the pen nib itself being pretty unreliable.

Decobrush pigment - I've not got these in white so can't speak for them directly, but the colours I do have are pretty spiffy and it's a BRUSH pen, which gives you so much more control and a range of sizes per pen. There is some difficulty with low opacity on these though (since they're meant to be used with other decobrush markers), so I don't know how a white "corrector" would fair. The colour range is generally pretty gorgeous though, in the long term i'd like to have more of them.

General note on gel pens - I've got a love-hate relationship with gel pens honestly. I find I can get more consistent results out of them because the ink doesn't settle and you don't have to prime the nibs, but that's only if you can find a good brand... and then a good specific pen lol. I've also found an issue when you don't let the medium below dry properly re: smudging, but it also seems like if your work isn't boneeee dry (like overnight or multiple days of alcohol markers drying) the gel can very easily take on the colour of the pigment underneath, especially darker ones. Oddly this doesn't always show up when scanning, but it will look odd in person. Not always a draw back though - it looks great for white detailing in shadow.

Sakura Gelly Roll 08 - Not sure if there's other sizes (or their efficacy) so I thought I'd be specific because if there's one thing about gel pens the specificity MATTERS. I've got a couple of these and they don't disappoint (insofar as my expectations for gel pens go)

Uniball signo broad - this was my favourite until it ran out of ink. I cannot say for the uniball signo (without the broad part) which seemingly just gave up delivering ink and enjoys carving lines on the page and maybe delivering just enough ink that you can see where the ball is on the track it leaves behind. But the broad? I really liked. It honestly probably performs the same as the gelly roll but the pen just feels nicer to use lol, and the fact that it ran out of ink rather than dried out speaks for how much I liked it lol

as a general warning though - basically any gel pen or acrylic pen should be the last thing you do on your piece, because the second it goes down you will not be doing any more colouring in that area (unless you paint with acrylics). You can maybe use lineart pens on top of them once fully dried for at least an hour (ideally more) but it's very likely to smudge.

honestly... if you scan your work, there's no shame in cloning a white area of your work to use as a highlight post-scan. i always feel like im cheating until i remind myself that every digital-artist peer i have gets do to this at their leisure lol. i'd recommend getting a good scan/photo of the work before adding any highlights anyway because it's sooo easy to bugger them up and be unable to fix it (i say this as someone who never remembers and always regrets it lol)

examples:

you can see where the opacity doesn't quite hide what it's covering - an extra layer or digital correction would have been great. pretty sure this was artistro acrylic pen. but the unseen thing is i had to correct around the iris to the point where i said "well fuck i can't do what i want now" and just fixed it digitally.

dot highlights on the left and in/around the eye - definitely gelly roll. gel pens are really good for little pin pricks because you avoid the ball-point smearing things too thin and you can get pretty high opacity from that. also some more digital "help" with a bit of airbrush glow.

Definitely gel pen but i forget which kind, but I wanted to show what I meant by "picking up some pigments" and how can can be a boon, but also how sometimes the scanner just picks it up as white anyway (left is scanned, right is a photo - you can see it's purplish in the shadows)

[frost-eyed-autumn]

What is Chuuya's opinion of each member of the Armed Detective Agency?

I'm going to assume that this is mainly in regards to actual Canon and not any individual muse interpretations so here goes...

Chuuya's Opinions On The Agency

First thing to note is that even though he can seem a bit of a hard-ass, Chuuya's opinions are a little bit flexible (and largely determined by events at the time and Mori's orders). He's never dead set on what he thinks of them, though overall, he thinks the Agency is a bit hypocritical and unfairly praised in the public eye.

After all, the Port Mafia ( / Mori Corporation) has done a lot to protect Yokohama from external threats (arguably, Chuuya alone has done more to protect Yokohama just when he was 16 than the Agency has probably done in its entire career up until the Moby Dick incident ; never mind the rest of the Port Mafia. And Akutagawa was just as responsible for protecting the city from the Moby Dick, but as far as we see, its only Atsushi and the Agency that get praised in the papers).

He also sees the Agency and the public as hypocrites since the Agency technically involves itself in vigilante gang warfare (see: the gang the Agency retaliated against for attacking Cafe Uzumaki, and all the gangs around Yokohama that are blatantly terrified of going against them because the Agency retaliates violently). Its not so much the retaliation that he has a problem with, so much as it is that its treated differently than when the Port Mafia retaliates. The Agency gets public awards, while the Port Mafia are regarded as criminals for doing the same exact things.

The Port Mafia gets away with it because they have a strong network of lawyers and other such people in place to fight / pay off the courts and authorities to turn a blind eye.

The Agency gets away with it because they're the Agency and tote around the "good guy" label.

On a personal level, I wouldn't say he hates them exactly. More just that he finds them to be rather obnoxious and likes to mock them on the regular (he often refers to them as "Toddlers") to be petty and derogatory.

On a professional level, he's loyal to Mori's whims. If Mori says they're allies today, then they're allies today. If Mori tells Chuuya to crush them out of existence tomorrow, he'll do so without hesitation. That's his promise to Mori as his second-in-command.

Fukuzawa

He's generally neutral towards him, though he knows quite a bit more about Fukuzawa's history than your average person through Mori, and views it as "hypocrisy trickles down from the top". That's not to say though he doesn't have at least a little bit of neutral respect for the guy. He knows first hand how hard it can be to run an organization reliably, even a small one.

Ranpo

He used to be fairly neutral towards him, only knowing him by reputation, until the Cannibalism events. Then he got stuck in that book and left there to find his own way out long after Ranpo managed to escape. He's even more peeved because it happened while Mori's life was still in danger, and there's nothing Chuuya hates more than being helpless to protect his people or his Boss. His feelings can be summed up in 3 words: Fuck That Guy. He really wants to pummel him properly.

Kunikida

Likewise fairly neutral, though he's heard quite a bit (through Dazai, obviously) how he can be a bit of a volatile hard-ass and pain in the neck (naturally, because Dazai is an unreliable narrator about his role in things like that, Chuuya just assumes by default that its entirely deserved). Following events with the Hunting Dogs though, he does have to admit he's pretty ballsy though. Almost blowing yourself up to save the rest of your organization takes some guts most people don't have.

Yosano

He's had very little contact with her (though he's heard plenty from Mori since her Ability is so coveted). However, after the one run-in he did have with her when the Three Way Conflict with the Guild was in full swing, he definitely thinks she belongs with / would fit in well with the mafia with how sadistic she is against her enemies purely on principle.

Kenji

He's actually fairly friendly with him (I mean how can you not be? This is Kenji after all). Moreover, he's actually impressed with him, which is a rare feat, given that Kenji is capable of tanking his kicks with hardly a scratch or bruise to speak of. The fact that Kenji also complimented his Ability AND his hat certainly doesn't hurt things. He really wants to fight him purely on the basis that he's curious about how well his Ability and Kenji's would match up in power, rather than out of hostility. Its not every day he finds another Ability user who can take his blows to give him an actual challenge or fun time.

Tanizaki

He's barely met the guy, though he does have some mixed feelings. On the one hand, the guy tried (and nearly succeeded, more than anyone else) to assassinate his Boss during the Cannibalism events, and he really doesn't like that. On the other hand, his Ability would be real handy to have in the hit squad / Black Lizards if the Agency decided to make him the person they traded to the Port Mafia in exchange for helping them against the Hunting Dogs. He clearly has the willingness to assassinate people with it already.

Dazai

Do I even need to spell it out? He's still pissed at Dazai for a lot of things - the list is too long to put here. He hates him now more than ever after he defected from the mafia. He hates that Mori still has a "place" for him set in reserve afterwards. He's also still the only person who can allow him to use Corruption safely, and Chuuya still trusts Dazai not to let him die in action if circumstances force them to work together. Which naturally means he hates and is irritated with Dazai even more.

Kyouka

He's tentatively friendly towards her, being that she used to be Port Mafia, and is important to Kouyou. He's well aware that the Port Mafia simply wasn't good for her, nor was being forced to kill people repeatedly when she's only 14, so he doesn't hold any hard feelings towards her leaving (and her leaving was sanctioned by one of the Executives, so he doesn't count her as a traitor). That said, she's no longer Port Mafia and with the Agency, so he'll put the organization first and won't hold back if Mori orders him to go up against her in battle.

Atsushi

He's heard a lot of things about him, but they really haven't met. He just knows he's newer to the Agency and has worked with Akutagawa a handful of times similar to how he and Dazai sometimes work together, and he knows Dazai wants to make the two of them the next generation of Double Black.

[awheckery]

DEATH TW and mentions of murder so if that is triggering for you don’t read, but if it’s not then i’d like to ask if you’ve heard of forensic genealogy? while i am uneasy at the prospect of using it to find suspects, it can also be used to find the identities of unidentified decedents, who die of accidental causes or are murdered, and often it’s the only hope to identify those who have been unidentified for decades. the dna doe project is a nonprofit that’s mostly volunteer run, and i think that your research skills could be useful there or somewhere like there. i know this is kind of a random ask to receive, identification of unidentified remains is my special interest but i don’t have the time or training to get better at researching beyond a few tricks here and there.

I feel like we've read the same articles recently; did you see the tumblr post (and linked articles) about Joseph Augustus Zarelli, the Boy in the Box?

Which is to say, yes, I am aware of forensic genealogy and the DNA Doe Project, because like many white American women, I'm a true crime junkie.* My big Thing is investigative procedure tho, so I'm also deeply interested in plane & train crash investigations, medical mysteries, archaeology, anthropology... basically 'what happened, and by which processes and methods do we figure out what happened?'

So far as getting into the game myself, I dunno. I assume there's probably some sort of required formal training, along with the expectation of reliability and sustained effort, and I'm a chronically ill autodidact with ADHD. I'm the research equivalent of a sprinter; investigative genealogy requires a marathoner, because there's so much exhausting, grinding work involved.

Something I've never seen brought up before in any investigation is how many extant family trees are just wrong. Genealogical sites make it too easy to crib notes from other users, and all it takes is one person deciding 'eh that's probably the right guy' for dozens of other amateur researchers to make the same mistake, and then somebody ties that erroneous information to their DNA profile. I don't know how the forensic genealogists deal with that.

You also have to take into account how many people throughout history have just gone missing, or otherwise fallen off the historical record. Just because someone's date of death is absent doesn't mean something nefarious happened to them. (Just because someone's date of death is present doesn't mean it's correct.) People emigrate. They marry. They change their names. They die alone and unknown in a ditch**, or they die somewhere that doesn't make those records public***. Paper records can burn or flood out, and family stories rarely make it down more than one or two generations. History is messy.

I've only done serious research into my family background for two years, in fits and starts interrupted by illness flare ups. Half the time it feels like I find more questions to ask than I get answers. I've found a pair of illegitimate daughters and a handful of adoptees. I've found some two dozen 'missing persons' who may as well have disappeared into thin air, for how suddenly they dropped out of the historical record. I've found a murder victim and a (maybe) would-be murderess.

And four months ago, I found the answer to another family's 150 year old missing person case, and it changed everything I thought I knew about my mother's family.

This is how.

Five months ago, I thought I knew everything there was that could be known about John Robert McDowell.

I knew he was born July 1st of either 1868 or 1869, in Belfast, Northern Ireland. According to his naturalization petition, he came to the United States in April of 1883, when the absolute oldest he could have been was fourteen, and at the time of his naturalization in 1896 he claimed his nationality was English, presumably due to anti-Irish sentiments at the time.

I knew John's handwriting was idiosyncratic: he wrote the J in his name with a rightward upper loop that scooped up again before curving back around the center staff, and his uppercase R was a mess of curlicues. I've never seen the like before or since.

I knew that despite living in America for ten years longer than he'd lived outside it, John still had an accent in 1908 when his second son was born. Spelling is incredibly inconsistent across historical records because up until very recently, it was the practice of the record keepers to write down their best guess at what they heard, and in 1908 a midwife heard and recorded John's surname as McDoul.

John's life was actually remarkably well-documented, in comparison to his contemporaries. I bought myself access to Newspapers.com along with my Ancestry subscription, and he made semi-regular appearances in the Newport News Daily Press for the better part of thirty years as a Navy veteran, successful entrepreneur, and president of a labor union that later became the United Steelworkers Local 8888. (A seemingly throwaway notice in the Daily Press was the only record I've yet been able to find for his divorce, which eventually led me to find out whatever happened to his wife, which is another saga entirely. Pauline, you dirty rotten cheater.)

I knew that John was in and out of the hospital with thyroid cancer, but he was such a tough old bastard it took the better part of fifteen years to kill him, and he died in 1954 at the age of 86.****

According to John's death certificate (and the U.S. Government records at the VA hospital where he died), his parents' names were Thomas McDowell and Isabell Rabb (or possibly Robb, the Accent strikes again.)

This is the only record linked to either of them on Ancestry.com at all.

I have most of a history degree, so I wasn't surprised. There are next to no records of the 1890 census of the United States, and that was down to a fire in the National Archives. Ireland was dragged backwards through hell by the ankles for centuries by a succession of British monarchs and governments, and Belfast was in the prime of especially conflicted territory for much of it. No census records from John's lifetime were kept, and the likelihood his parents would show up in the surviving fragments from 1841 and 1851 was slim to none.

There were transcribed indexes from birth and marriage records available, at least, and I scoured them through, looking for a John McDowell, and there wasn't a single damn one born to a Thomas or Isabelle McDowell in a decade on either side of 1868. There wasn't any record I could find at all of a Thomas McDowell marrying an Isabelle Rabb until well after John left Ireland.

Five months ago, as far as I knew, John Robert McDowell was probably a bastard, who'd either been left out of whatever records were taken at the time, or he was one of the unfortunate ones whose birth record had been lost.

Four months ago, I realized that the record indexes on Ancestry included film numbers, which meant there were pictures of those records to be found somewhere. If they were organized chronologically, I could try to find his birth registration that way. Googling "ireland civil registration records" brought me to the Civil Records search page of a genealogy site run by, of all things, the Irish government's tourism department.

Once again, there wasn't a John McDowell born to the right parents during the right time period, so I went looking for his parents' marriage. And found it.

If they married in 1872, John would probably still technically be a bastard, but I had a point to start from. Once I clicked into the actual scan of the record I nearly snapped myself in half sitting upright in attention, because Thomas McDowell's father's name was Duncan, John named his eldest son Duncan, Isabella's father's name was John, I had to have the right two people, this couldn't be a coincidence.

And then I noticed Isabella was a widow. Isabella was a widow.

Who was your husband, and when did he die, Isabella? I searched again, and found her marriage to a Thomas Logan July 30th, 1866. No men named Thomas Logan died in Belfast between 1866 and 1870, which meant he was probably still alive when John was born. It meant I had been looking in the wrong direction the entire time.

John Robb Logan came into the world on July 1st, 1868, in the Ballymacarrett district of Belfast, the second child of four born to Thomas Logan and Isabella Robb. Once I knew what I was looking for the rest came easy.

John's early life was riddled with tragedies. His younger brother Joseph was six months old when he died in March of 1870. His father died of smallpox in December of the same year, exactly one month after the birth of his sister Mary. Three months before his fifth birthday, his first half-sibling Bella died, at just five months old. And in 1879, his older brother William died after a long, miserably drawn-out illness from spinal tuberculosis.

(As an aside, god, poor Isabella. She had four children with Thomas Logan, and a further nine with Thomas McDowell, and before her early death from a long respiratory illness she buried a husband, two sons, and two daughters. How do you go on after that, how are you not forever shattered?)

If I hadn't been sure I'd found the right family, I was after William died. Thomas McDowell was the person who reported William's death to the registrar's office after sitting by his deathbed. The registrar recorded William as a "child of [the] baker" that Thomas was by profession; Thomas McDowell claimed his stepson as his own.

Duncan McDowell, John's step-grandfather, had a family burial plot in Ballygowan, and he named William Adam Logan as his grandson, with no qualifiers, when they buried him.

All the evidence suggests that the McDowells loved John Robb Logan and his siblings, and he loved them back every bit as much. You don't choose to take on the surname of people you hate, and it seems very much the case that John chose to go by McDowell when he came to America. I'm honestly not sure there was a way for Thomas McDowell to bequeath his name to his stepchildren, given John's brother William died a Logan and his sister Mary married as one.

John Robb Logan disappeared from history after his baptism, and John Robert McDowell made his first confirmed appearance in the historical record in 1883, but I was certain they were one and the same. The problem was proving it to my mother, because McDowell was her family name. She'd grown up with it, as had her sisters and her dozens of cousins and her father and his siblings and her father's father; I only had a paper trail arguing the name she knew didn't belong to any of them by blood.

So I went for blood.

I refuse to give my DNA to Ancestry.com on a principle born from paranoia and ethics concerns. It's absolutely not happening, ever, like hell do I expect a corporation to do the right thing with my genetic material. My mother doesn't share my concerns, either now or four years ago, when she bought an Ancestry DNA kit and then did absolutely nothing with her results besides marvel at the unexpected Swedish heritage in her 'Ethnicity Estimate' because doing anything else looked like too much work.

It took a few days to figure out how to hook my mother's DNA results into the tree I've built, and a few more for all the features to populate, but all told it took less than a week between learning the truth about my great-great-grandfather's parentage and proving it irrefutably with DNA, via several descendants of his full-blooded sister Mary and a grandson of his half-brother Wallace.

Ancestry doesn't tell you when new DNA matches are found, or when someone adds you to their tree (and thank god for that, my mother has somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty thousand matches). To those descendants of Mary Thomasina Logan, the handful of John's descendants who've shelled out for Ancestry DNA kits could be any random person. Frequently the relationships between matches aren't clear, because of all the folks like my mom who never add a tree to their results, or those who don't try to go any further back than their grandparents.

As far as Mary Logan's descendants know, the sons of Thomas Logan dead-ended his line, and when I do find John in their trees there's never more than a birth year and a blank space where there would usually be a year of death. (They all have the wrong Isabella Robb too, but I don't really blame them; apparently Isabella was one of the most popular names for girls for well over a century, and Robbs weren't exactly thin on the ground.)

Someday soon, I'm going to reach out. People who study genealogy do it because they're looking for something: long lost relatives, answers to questions asked too late, or even a better, more personal understanding of history by learning about the people who were there when it happened. Every family has its mysteries and this one, at least, could be solved.

John's story doesn't end here. Here is where it begins.

~

*I'm aware of the problematic nature of White Lady True Crime Brain Poisoning, but I'm gonna have to pull the 'I'm not like other girls' card. I'm incredibly discerning about my crime shows, I hate the fucking cops, and I'm realistic about how unbelievably low my chances are of ever being the victim of a violent crime. I'm white, I'm broke as shit, I'm built like a running back and walk like the Terminator, and most importantly, I'm single and planning to stay that way for the rest of my life. The only way I'm getting murdered is if I happen to get caught in a random mass shooting, which isn't outside the realm of possibility because America.

**In case anyone's gotten this far and is still interested, there's strong evidence that the mystery of the Somerton Man was finally solved last year. At some point I'd like to take a look at the tree the forensic genealogists built tho, because I have some Doubts. There was only one person in that family that fell off the map in the 40's? Just one? I was lightning-strike kinds of lucky enough to find John's real parentage, but I dug up more unanswered questions with it, because two of his half-brothers dropped out of the records after 1901. Completely setting aside the possibility of infidelity in the Webb family and how common inbreeding has been (both historically and in recent memory) in populations of European descent, I have a hard time buying that Carl Webb was the only person who could be the Somerton Man. It's still cool as shit that they have a strong possibility tho.

***Maryland and Kansas specifically can blow me, if somebody died in either of those states I have to find an obituary or a tombstone to get the mcfrickin' date, and I have to either pay money and prove a relationship to see a death certificate, or show up to an archive in person to search on their intranet, MARYLAND WHY DO YOU NOT WANT ME TO KNOW WHEN MY GREAT-GRANDMOTHER DIED. (Being fair, I don't know if she died in Maryland, that's just a great-uncle's best guess, because she ran away from her family in 1949 and nobody ever saw her again after the early 60's. Helen, where the hell did you go?)

****One of the big reasons why I got into genealogy in the first place was to see if I could find how far back the predisposition to early deaths and autoimmune disease went in my family. What I hadn't expected to find was a predisposition for extreme longevity on all sides. Longevity as in 'skewing the life expectancy bell curve' kinds of longevity. As long as someone didn't come down with a freak illness or make a looooooooong string of poor life choices, they were apparently immune to death, which honestly explains a few things about Crazy Grandma, god damn.