#and. it’s a blessing to know someone who wants a funeral for you
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milflewis · 2 years ago
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“and the only time we’ve held hands is when i threw a punch and you caught it” is so ferwis core
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apollophanes · 1 year ago
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Spiritual Pollution in Hellenic Polytheism
In Helpol, we have three concepts known as lyma, miasma, and agos.
To some, humans are seen as naturally pure beings, but because we are living mortal creatures, spiritual dirt can cling to us and make us impure.
Here, I will discuss these three types of pollution
(Disclaimer: Some of this information comes from my own personal interpretations, and therefore may not apply to the beliefs of everyone)
Lyma
Lyma means "something to be washed away". Itis generally just physical dirt. It isn't much of a big deal when it comes to spiritual matters. However, it is still best to be free of it when approaching the gods.
Miasma
This is where things get complicated.
Miasma is essentially general spiritual pollution. Miasma is something that is completely unavoidable and should not be shamed (well, depending on the cause). Miasma is mainly caused by things related to life and death. This includes sex, childbirth, visiting a cemetery, blood, sexual fluids, etc.
However, miasma has different degrees of severity. More severe miasma comes from acts such as rape, hubris, murder, etc.
Miasma also spreads from people to people. If you walk past someone on the street who just came back from a funeral, their miasma will cling to you as well. This also highlights how unavoidable miasma is. But usually, this kind of indirect miasma is not as bad.
We are not allowed to approach the gods in a state of miasma. Luckily, miasma is not difficult to get rid off (excluding the more severe cases listed above).
All you need to do is wash your hands.
If you get a cut on your leg, the blood is miasmic and therefore you can't approach the gods. But all you need to do is wait for the bleeding to stop, wash away the blood, wash your hands, and then you're good to go.
There is a debate I once had on whether miasma prevents us from praying, giving offerings, and participating in festivals. To me, the answer is yes, but not with prayers. Let me explain why.
In a very simplified description of a certain myth, Orestes killed his mother. This caused him to enter a state of severe miasma and a state of agos (which I will explain later). Long story short, he prayed and asked Apollon to help purify him, in return for a grand offering later on. Apollon heard the prayer and came to help purify Orestes.
In this example, we see that Orestes was still able to pray to Apollon in the worst state of miasma, but promised to give offerings later on.
This implies that prayer is not an issue with miasma.
Here is another example: You don't need to wash your hands when talking to someone, but you should wash your hands if you want to give that person food.
In a similar way, in my opinion, you don't need to wash your hands for a casual prayer, but you should wash them before giving an offering. Although, I also prefer not to pray when I know I am in a miasmic state.
However, this is my own interpretation and others may have different views.
There are other ways to cleanse miasma such as khernips, incense, and scapegoats.
Ocean water is also said to cleanse miasma extremely well.
Agos
Agos is a cursed state and is the most extreme form of spiritual pollution. However, agos is not easy to get.
If you commit a horrible act such as murder, you will be in a state of extreme miasma. However, when the gods notice your crime and get enraged (keep in mind that it is usually not that easy to anger the gods), the miasma evolves into agos.
Miasma is a naturally occurring thing, but agos only comes from the wrath of the gods.
Agos is difficult to remove and is a pretty big deal.
Luckily, you don't need to worry about agos unless you're a horrible person who commits heinous acts.
Aaaand that is my interpretation of spiritual pollution in Helpol. I hope this post can be helpful to you!
Blessed be!
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year ago
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Conrad and Belly beach scene but it’s reader instead of Belly. They kiss and it’s emotional and I was really hoping their would kiss! So happy she and Jere didn’t!
The beach scene had me screaming!! They finally used snow on the beach <3
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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‘’Leave me alone,’’ you slurred, your back turned to Conrad as you watched the waves crash over your feet. 
Coming to the beach in your intoxicated state was far from wise — an outright perilous choice. However, reason and prudence had abandoned you at this moment, too drunk to properly think.
‘’I can’t,’’ he responded. 
His footfalls reached you, his presence palpable and audible in the water. Without preamble, Conrad hoisted you over his shoulder like a potato sack and took you out of the ocean.  
‘’No! Conrad! Put me down,’’ you demanded the moment your feet left the ground. ‘’Just put me down.’’ 
‘’You’re drunk.’’
‘’Put me down!’’ You hit at his back as he walked up the beach.
‘’I’m not gonna put you down.’’
‘’Conrad, let go!’’ 
He did, letting you down on the sand ungracefully. 
You glared at him and dusted the sand off your shorts. ‘’Just go.’’ 
He extended his hand to help, but you smacked him off. ‘’I’m not leaving you.’’
Those next words would never have come out if you hadn’t drunk so much of the bottle left forgotten in the sand.
‘’But you already did,’’ you let slip, standing up with a little bit of struggle. You felt tears coming as you looked at Conrad, memories of that night coming back in flashes. ‘’Why didn’t you tell me you went to Jeremiah about us? Why?!’’ 
When he showed up to your house in October, all he said was that Jeremiah had moved on and was seeing other people. He didn’t tell you that he asked for his brother’s blessing despite knowing how hurt Jeremiah was about the situation. Coming from someone who never talked to anybody about his feelings, it meant a lot to you that he talked to Jeremiah. He fought for you. He was serious about you.
‘’I don’t know!’’ Conrad blurted in response, genuinely not knowing why he kept this from you. 
‘’If I had known that you had done that, that you cared that much about me and about us— If I had known, then I would have fought for you.’’ Tears blurred your vision, distorting his image.
Conrad looked down at you confusedly. ‘’What do you mean?’’ 
‘’I mean I would have fought for us. At prom, and at the funerals…’’ A tear slipped down your face, but you didn’t wipe it. ‘’And I would have been there for you through everything.’’ A sob left your lips, your heart breaking over the boy you swore you would never cry for again. 
‘’I thought you knew. I thought you knew,’’ Conrad repeated, his deeply buried feelings starting to come through his walls. ‘’From the moment we kissed on the beach I thought you knew.’’
‘’Why did you throw it all away? Why, Connie?’’ You reached for him, then pushed him away, undecided if you wanted him to hold you in his arms or to hit his chest in anger. ‘’I…I thought that we loved each other.’’
‘’We did,’’ he confessed for the first time, swallowing thickly. ‘’I still do.’’ 
Tears welled up in Conrad's eyes as he looked at you, his defenses crumbling under the weight of his emotions. The tension in the salt air was palpable, a mixture of regret, longing, and the weight of unspoken words hung between you.
‘’Then why, Conrad?’’ you choked out, your voice trembling. ‘’Why did you let me end things? Why did you get in your car at my prom? Why didn’t you fight for us?’’
He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek gently. You didn't pull away, torn between the anger you felt and the overwhelming surge of emotions that his confession had stirred within you. 
‘’Because I didn’t want to be a burden to you. I kept disappointing you…’’ 
Conrad did disappoint you on prom night, but not for the reasons he thought. You didn’t care about the corsage or if he wasn’t in the mood to dance all night. You would have settled for just a few dances if that’s all he was able to give you. His head was elsewhere and you understood that. Yours would be too if your mother was terribly sick and approaching her last days.
You wanted to tell him that, but you were drunk and standing way too close to Conrad to make any rational decisions…so you closed the remaining space between you and kissed him.
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apoemaday · 4 months ago
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I Want the World
by Brenda Shaughnessy
You never know, when you say goodbye, if it’s the last time. Last time for who? For what?
Every time is the last — for that particular goodbye, wearing those clothes, at that airport. Me in my black dress — nightgown, fifties housecoat, funeral uniform. It passes for anything.
My daughter in her fuchsia track shorts and faded green t-shirt almost as soft as her luscious little arms. She was complaining, as usual. She was hungry. She was tired of traveling.
Her complaints were especially unpleasant since they only pointed up how innocent she was of how bad everything could get. The Legos are boring? Imagine no toys of any kind.
The chicken nuggets are too hot? Just wait. They’ll cool and by then, I hope she can learn to like lizard blood and shoelace chewing gum, because that’s what’s coming.
A fierce zip of pride bites my heart. She demands more because she knows there’s more in the world and she believes she should have it all. She knows what she wants: what she wants.
She believes the world is coming to her, not veering definitively away. She still thinks we can choose between ice cream flavors, bless her that she has so many possible flavors in mind.
Between stuffed animals and dolls. Which color lunch box you want for the whole school year. What school year? I think. Will first grade exist this coming fall?
She still thinks that what she thinks will affect what she gets. She still believes tantrums might get her her way. She doesn’t know yet that nobody gets her way.
We’re all lucky if we get anything at all, come dinnertime, come night, the next morning and the next hot morning, the next endangered livingspace if we get to stay there. We can’t carry all that stuff. But she doesn’t think of it as stuff.
She thinks of it as what she wants. Life’s been consistent — me resisting her demands, me in my black dress, cutting my hair to make her paintbrushes. If something happens to me, who will help her believe her beliefs?
She believes her desires — as erratic and irrational as a six-year-old’s desires can be — nevertheless have intrinsic value. A thread of hope wound, inextricable, all around and through her very person. I believe that, too.
One of these mornings I’ll say goodbye, a routine goodbye when I go to the FedPlex warehouse to work or pick my rations, and in my absence she will lose that thread, come to fully understand what she wants is impossible in our world.
All of it, any of it, the tiniest thing, impossible.
I won’t have known but I’ll be walking away from my daughter for the last time, coming home (wherever home is) to someone new, someone broken off from my old girl, six years old.
Here, I tell her, providing a pencil with a pristine, unsharpened end, chew on this. Nobody’s touched it yet. It’s all yours, darling.
Somewhere I’ll find a blade to sharpen it, and we’ll find a scrap for drawing, a bit of napkin or a smooth, light stone. For now, you can chew on it. Soon you’ll be able to draw whatever you want.
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nevadancitizen · 3 months ago
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-> TEASER: WHY DOES EVIL WEAR A FACE SO FAMILIAR?
synopsis: you and logan were taken by the federation years ago.
word count: ~550
ships: Keegan Russ/Reader, Ghosts team & Reader
notes: just a quick thing to establish relationships and to see if anyone is interested because i want a ghosts sequel. so i figured i might as well write it. please lmk if you're interested <3! i'd love to talk to people about this lololol
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Elias lied.
Elias was a lot of things – a husband, a father, a captain. But above all things else, he was a fucking liar. 
He parroted stories of the Federation not forcing people out of Houston, San Antonio, Fort Worth, Dallas, and every town in between, but butchering them. Slaughtering everyone who wasn’t fast enough to get away. The elderly, the ill, children, those who stopped to help the wounded. It made no difference to them – age, race, military or civilian or someone wearing a red cross. Every American in the vicinity was shot, stabbed, or bludgeoned to death. Each soldier in the Federation had one unifying trait – that none of them could be reasoned with. They were relentless in their pursuit of slaughter.
Living in willful ignorance is an ugly thing. But you have been enlightened. Through what Elias called “poisons and tortures” of the flesh, mind, and soul, you have seen the truth – as has Logan.
The day you both were rebirthed was a blessing. You were both made siblings in arms, codependent but thriving by each other’s sides. 
Your eyes were opened – the Federation isn’t the USSR’s second coming, but something better. Something revised and edited and molded to be superior in both technology and execution. The leaders of the USSR were selfish men who got off to the idea of hoarding wealth under the guise of communism. The Federation is too cutthroat for the slightest shift outside of the status quo. Moles and double agents aren’t tolerated. The bloodstains on the bullet traps on the firing ranges are evidence enough.
Of course, Keegan doesn’t know this. Because where you are fighting for a righteous cause, he is a threat to the precious collective. 
You don’t love him. Not anymore.
When you and Logan were dragged away on that beach, the world turned dull for both Keegan and Hesh. 
Hesh felt the grief for his brother in a full-bodied ache – something that tore at his heart and collapsed his lungs. Rorke took every single person that was left of his family. His world became The Fire That Consumes My Brother by Thích Nhất Hạnh. He hoped that the torch of Logan’s body burned bright enough to be seen through the denseness of South American jungles. 
He silently begged in the rain, praying that Logan could hear him. With every clap of thunder, he heard something that sounded like Logan’s raspy, barely-used voice crying for help. And Hesh sat, and he listened. The rain hid his tears well enough, anyway. 
For Keegan, it was a dull hurt. Something that permeated every thought and action in his life. His world became Funeral Blues by W.H. Auden. Keegan didn’t want anything to do with a world that didn’t have you in it. Even though there wasn’t a funeral, as both you and Logan were marked as MIA, Keegan still felt as though he was the only pallbearer, shouldering the weight of your coffin by himself. 
The world was no longer beautiful with this unrelenting shadow over him. The stars weren’t as bright, the moon wasn’t as wonderful, the sunshine wasn’t as nice and warm as it once was. You were his North, his South, his East, his West – his noon, his midnight, his every hour in between. But cardinal directions don’t have as much meaning anymore, and neither does time.
Keegan thought love would last forever. Keegan was wrong.
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angelismmm · 2 years ago
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hello! can you please write for liyue’s men (with like tartaglia/baizhu/scaramouche too) and their types? like what they look in a s/o and what kind of s/o they’d like/it would suit them best? thxxxxxx
⟢ my kind of woman ft. liyue men + tartaglia & scara ・synopsis. what kind of person are they into? or really who'd match them best? ・notes. yay jing yuan and blade theme my baes, anyways!! i love this sm ive rly wanted to write ab smth like this!! oh also this is really just my thoughts plus relationship headcannons :D ・warnings. suggestive , GN!READER. title is inspired by mac demarco's song :)
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opposites attract, the olive theory, i like to believe that most lovers are usually the opposites of each other, or atleast disagree with something in a way. ・for zhongli, having to deal with childe and hu tao everyday, it isn't a breath of fresh air when it comes to an s/o that's overly affectionate and loud, not that he finds it annoying, finds it very cute, every little bit of affection you give him makes his day always. other people might find you overtly obnoxious, but he'd never, everything about you honestly is really.. perfect.. to him. can't describe it in words, even if you were to be similar, he's the type to always expect it, and be the only person not being scared by you, and he's honestly okay with that, hu tao is probably your guys' matchmaker! will trap you both in a closet together while you visited the funeral parlor, gives it about... 15 minutes.. and small hickey can definitely be seen on you and him, is both happy and goes "ew... get a room!!" and also the person to stash both of you guys into a cramped area when she knows very damn well you both like each other.. well took you both long enough honestly, definitely got impatient and pushed you guys... a bit..
・alatus xiao... definitely will tell you you are annoying at first, but you are the annoying he loves <3. the only annoying person he will listen to, and give forehead kisses to, and cuddle all night 'till he sleeps. you really are an exception... but if he'll be totally real with himself, he loves it when you bug him to tell him about what happened today, or who you've talked to, or if you've seen anything new, falls in love all over again every time that you do. likes zoning out when you rant, and all he can see is your pretty smile going on and on about some vendor who gave you free food. likes to shut you up with a kiss, does it often, and makes both of you red. whenever you hear him say something like "do you ever shut up?", it translates to "please keep talking with that soothing voice of yours." i promise he loves you so much, just is still getting used to it.
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extrovert x introvert kind of way, one that talks alot, one that listens alot. ・oh loverboy childe/tartaglia.. literal devil x angel type of relationship, in this case, he's the devil. loves bothering you, like even if you give him something while he waits for you to be done with whatever you need to be done, he can't be distracted from distracting his lover?! still a huge sweetheart, don't get me wrong, the type to really memorize things about you too, notices so many little things about you, like even things you don't even notice. but someone who can tolerate his shenanigans are the best match for him. the best hugs ever too, so when you're stressed, just ask for cuddles and kisses and he'll be there to talk to you, even if you don't wanna talk about it, he'll talk to you about his day to comfort you instead. loves you like you are an angel from heaven that blessed him, because you were, and you did.
・kaedehara kazuha.. in this case you are the extrovert, likes to listen you rambling about something from work, the type to hold you close to his chest and hum a familiar tune to get you to sleep, likes to just watch and listen to someone who tends to talk a lot with no one listening to them, but he's always there for you. such a sweetheart with it too, loves to hold your hand while you do, if anyone tells you you're annoying best bet he'll deal with them, with words. isn't shy to say you're his s/o, unintentionally tells everyone about you, "honestly s/o is such a dear for me. they ---." he's ranting to a toucan by the way.
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grumpy x sunshine, this is scaramouche with his s/o, if i do say so myself. literal showers of affection in private, 'cold-hearted' in public, promise he doesn't mean the insults he spits at you. still willing for a bit of pda though, basic holding hands is the only kinda he allows tbh, lowkey flexes you when he's with someone else, "oh you know, s/o would've done better than you." so even if you haven't even met them, probably one of his coworkers or friends are already fed up with you (as a joke and seriously), if he's ever upset, he'll really just come over to you, ready for your little kisses on his cheeks, and your head on his lap, just adoring each other, like no one else would.
sun x moon is what baizhu and you would be. and goes so far to already decide what to call your children together. stars. in this case, you're his sun, loud, kind, caring, everything he could imagine, him? oh he's not all that special. he thinks you fell from celestia because wow you really shine, and he's more than thankful everyday that, and likes to spend time with both you and qiqi. so he also does call qiqi a star too <3. just like kazuha, he likes listening more than talking, does the zoning out thing too, changsheng has to tell him to stop so he listens to you, a bright person with someone like him really just.. he knows how much he's been blessed by archons.
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starberry-cupcake · 8 months ago
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I have made up from last time that was about only one chapter, this time we have 5 in a row. We finished act one, fam!
previously, in harrowbean the ninth:
this happened
I want to also thank you for all your nice comments and replies, I read every single one, I promise ♥
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ch. 7 to 11 summarized terribly, here we go:
it's time to cross the river
difficult task to perform
as someone who lives literally surrounded by rivers, in every direction, I can relate
my rivers don't carry ghouls though, as far as I know
I mean, there are ghost and cryptid legends, but not ghouls that stick to the windshield of a spaceship like bugs
like these ones do
so harrow and yandere twin aren't doing fantastic
yandere twin loses it in like the first 2 seconds
harrow sees the ghosts of all the ninth kids who died for her to be alive
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there's water also, but that part sounds very relaxing, actually
getting covered by water but not needing to breath
I'd be there forever tbh
but we can't, because ghoulies
mercygirl is still doing sound effects like kronk
btw we're changing her name to mercygirl because it's what I've been calling her now
I have been told by a number of you that mercygirl is your camilla so I apologize for disrespecting your blorbina
I might do it again, if the situation arises, though
mercygirl is piloting the ship and emperor the fool is just chillin' until he realizes harrow is walking about and doing theorems, which they didn't think she'd be in a state to do, so they didn't tell her not to do it
these people half-assing plans, who would have thought
mercygirl calls the emperor john
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emperor johnnyboy tries telling harrow to come back from her state because she's in too deep and it's becoming dangerous
mercygirl stars talking about the death of cassiopeia (another name that's easy to remember)
says cassiopeia had a ceramics collection, which makes her worthy of all my respect
harrow was thinking "five", idk what it's about
next thing we know, we're back to our gideonless retelling of gideon
in this version, teacher explains things
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he says the house was inhabited previously by "ten normal human beings of the Resurrection, though half were blessed already with necromantic gifts"
I'm tired of MATH
he says they left blueprints, he tells them about the Sleeper, he tells them how not to awaken it, he tells them about the trap door, he tells them what's under the trap door, he asks them to work together...
you know what this is like
it's like reading gideon was entering a new game and skipping every tutorial they give you
and reading this is like clicking every NPC's info and reading all that they say
ANYWAY, here is where ortus 1...
wait, this is going to be confusing
I want to call ortus from the ninth "ortus 1" and the new guy "ortus 2"
because ninth ortus was the first to show up
but new ortus is actually older and also is ortus the first
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we're gonna go with ortus and lyctor!ortus, for now
so, as I was saying, this is were ortus starts becoming much more insistent in these "flashbacks" about him not being the right choice
which, he's not wrong
we know he's not wrong
and harrow is saying stuff like "unless you can summon matthias nonius" (matthias nonius is becoming a recurrent thing, let's remember harrow compared gideon to him at one point)
and ortus goes "I don't understand why you chose me" to which harrow says "there was nobody else" and ortus exasperatedly says "you never did posses an imagination"
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VERY IMPORTANT THING
a skeleton turns around when they're walking and says "is this how it happens?"
we'll come back to that shortly
REMEMBER IT
(I know you all remember it, you've read this already, just act like I'm dora the explorer and play along)
next chapter starts in not!dulcinea's funeral
I'm sad I used the oliver queen grave meme already, I can't use it again to express my feelings
I'm gonna use the steel magnolias scene where they laugh at the funeral instead
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so, we are introduced to the famous augustine who's name I will remember
there's some conversation about first and second generations and about not!dulcinea being chosen, and Emperor Johnny Bravo says "we were all there to meet her, all sixteen of us"
MORE MATH
I guess she was the last one of these, but maybe we knew that already, I feel we knew that already
apparently, not!dulcinea was the most reluctant to slurp her cavalier, but that didn't stop any of them, not even her, so
Emperor Johnny Quest says "for god's sake" and harrow thinks "the god who became a man and yet still invoked himself, apparently"
when she's right, she's right
that's better commentary than I could make
I have to respect augustine a little bit because he asked "which one of the kiddies did her in?" and I thought that was hilarious
he is called the saint of patience, which makes my previous comment about them being named via sarcasm very correct
it's like captain planet or the power rangers but chosen as funnily as possible
they start summoning lyctor!ortus by saying that he's interested in "you-know-what", which is both suspicious and childish and the vibes of these lyctors are all over the place
augustine thinks something's wrong, which is an understatement at this point, but ok
lyctor!ortus comes in as if summoned by the gossip and harrow calls him "the next terrible part of your life" which is saying something
lyctor!ortus comes with news of the seventh beast or whatnot that's trailing them
harrow bleeds from her ears and smashes her head on the next available surface to pass out
the mood
who could blame her
this lyctor job is terrible
it's like the end of drop dead gorgeous and harrow is kristen dunst
I'm not explaining that, in case you haven't watched a classic
we are back to the "flashbacks" and we've got a special appearance from the fifth
*studio audience claps and cheers*
they say they prefer to look into books than going downstairs, which is something one would consider if one had known what the fuck was downstairs from the start
abigail also does sound effects like mercygirl, it's catching on
abigail finds a piece of a recipe note that mentions an M and a Nigella
still no G&P
we know nigella is the cav of cassiopeia, the ceramics collector
I remember nigella's name because of the cook, which makes it funnier that it's a recipe
M could be mercygirl
abigail also gives harrow a note
abigail says that she'd like to summon the ghost of a lyctor but she's not sure how that could work or where they go when they die
ortus, magnus and abigail, in this gideonless version, are a polycule
I am convinced of that
while they're talking, magnus says "is this really how it happens?"
REMEMBER I SAID WE'D BRING THAT BACK
IT'S BACK
abigail starts telling harrow that she's got the energy of a lot of dead kids in her and harrow storms out
harrow gets angry when ortus calmly agrees about things and she doesn't want to look into why
I WONDER WHY THAT IS
harrow looks at abby's note again and now there's text on it
it's a longer version of the note she found before
it's a rant
it mentions dead eggs, implantation, some guy being sent after the OP, said guy taking pity on OP
OP is mad about all of this and doesn't use punctuation
what ortus reads isn't what harrow reads, once again
NOW THIS BIT
"ortus, I need a cavalier with a backbone" "You always did and I am glad, I think, that I never became that cavalier"
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the gideon points keep adding up
harrow then goes to sleep and is like this
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final thing in act I, in chapter 11, is harrowbean stabbing not!dulcinea again, which
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always make sure, it's like resident evil in here
just in case, let's stab her a bunch of times
so, are these "flashbacks" happening in real time whenever harrow isn't conscious?
is it her trying to remember what actually happened?
or is it her trying to hide it?
was there actually a longer period of time between the defeat of not!dulcinea and the emperor Jon Arbuckle coming to pick them up?
a period of time in which harrow learned things that made her write those letters?
and in which something happened regarding gideon?
is the note of the implantation also related?
why was gideon born in space?
of course I'm not asking you, please don't spoil anything, I'm just asking the void of desperation and chaos right now
we'll see if any of this gets answered soon or if I just get more questions
also, guess who wasn't mentioned
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see you on the next one!! I'll try to get back to the awesome replies I've been getting soon ♥
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kyuuppi · 1 year ago
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HEAR ME OUT. Genshin Men as your ex, like what would they do during the healing process? Would they beg for you back, try to get you jealous, etc.
I LOVE UR WRITING AND FORMAT XX YOU'RE LITERALLY AMAZING.
Ft. Zhongli; Xiao; Tighnari; Scaramouche
⚠️tw: manipulation (Scaramouche); bad end/angst (Xiao; Zhongli)
Every cell in my body resisting the urge to make them yandere–
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⭐ Zhongli
To be frank, Zhongli is no stranger to the end of relationships.
Having lived through several millennia, Zhongli has watched many friends, enemies, and lovers come and go. 
The moment he met you, he already knew you would someday be the same–such is the nature of mortality.
No matter how much he loved you, you would one day become yet another bittersweet memory–the type that makes his chest ache in the latest hours of the night while the rest of the harbor is sleeping.
Zhongli knew your departure from his life was inevitable…
But he didn’t expect to have to say goodbye so soon–let alone voluntarily.
“I love you, Zhongli. I really do but… we’re just too different. A former archon and a human just weren’t meant to be together. I’m sorry.”
Words he had never dreamed of fall from your lips easily. You had rehearsed it for a while.
He is internally distraught - his chest aches in a way he is not quite familiar with and, for once, he does not know what to say. 
He politely lets you leave - says that he understands and expresses his desire to remain amicable if you will allow it but will keep his distance if that is what you prefer.
He will always be available to share some advice over a cup of tea or osmanthus wine if you should ever need it. The unwritten contract between the of you – the favor and support of a former archon – is unconditional. 
You may find yourself shocked at how easily he lets you go –whether or not you are pleased by it depends on the nature of your true feelings.
Zhongli’s warm smiles and calming words will always remain, albeit now polite rather than intimate.
Outsiders who were unfamiliar with the nature of your previous relationship will not even notice the difference.
It is only a select few - Xiao, a few other adepti, and perhaps the funeral director – who see how the once smoldering embers in Zhongli’s steady gaze have been smothered.
It is only in the darkest hours of night, alone in his study, that Zhongli allows himself to wonder if his divinity is a blessing or a curse.
“It is unfortunate that our journey together must come to an end so soon. I have very much enjoyed our time together and appreciated the honor of witnessing your glory so closely. I will not burden you with my presence but… if you should ever need my assistance or desire my companionship, it is always yours.”
⭐ Xiao
Never in a thousand years would Xiao have imagined he would have someone to call his own.
After centuries of abuse–both inflicted upon him and from him - Xiao had sworn to never put himself in a position that vulnerable again. He will never let someone get close enough to hurt him or be hurt.
Nevertheless, you appeared in his life and shattered every expectation he had ever set.
Through sheer persistence, you smashed your way through his every wall and stole his heart as your own.
You had created an inseverable bond between you two…
...but now you wanted to sever it.
“I don’t think we can be together anymore, Xiao. You have a duty to protect Liyue and that is your top priority. You are tethered to this place. But I want to explore new places… and new people. I’m sorry, Xiao.”
His first reaction is anger, the type that flashed white hot in his gut and burns through his veins.
He did not seek you out – you were the one who forced your way into his life.
No matter how often he rejected you, how much he tried to avoid you, you had repeatedly interjected your way into his routine, bringing him plates of almond tofu and sharing stories of you adventure he had never asked about.
You created the habit for him. You made him expect your presence every day. You gave him new experiences and made him feel things he never knew possible. You made him love you in ways he had never imagined himself capable of–
–only to rip it all away. 
He should have known he was not good enough - he was always just a weapon, a tool, wasn’t he? It is only natural that you would use him too–and that he would one day become useless.
He leaves without a word.
For you, it is almost as if you had imagined his whole existence.
He no longer waits for you atop Wangshu Inn. You no longer feel the sense of someone watching–protecting–you while you take commissions around Liyue. 
 The only indication you have that you had not dreamt the whole thing is the occasional story random citizens, claiming to have been saved from a lawachurl by a ghost with yellow eyes.
You think Xiao has forgotten your entire existence. He disappears from your life so easily.
But to Xiao, it is not easy at all. 
His every thought is plagued by you to the point he wonders if you placed a curse upon him.
While the memory of you once eased his karmic debt, now it only seems to fuel it.
The voices taunt him, remind him of how worthless he is, even to his own lover.
You’re only a weapon of destruction – of course no one would want to be with you. You could never make anyone happy. You can only bring pain.
He suffers alone, brushing off the concern of the other adepti and even Zhongli when his karmic debt seems to get worse, his breakdowns more frequent and more intense than ever before/
It is only when you call his name - whether because you miss him or because you are in danger, than he will allow himself to see you again.
But even as he stands before you, he will not make eye contact.
Not because he does not want to see you but because he does not trust himself to act reasonably if he does.
“Even if the… nature of our relationship has changed, our bond still remains… what I mean is, if you are ever in danger, you should still call my name. I will always protect you...”
⭐ Tighnari
Um… this dude mates for life, how could you do this to him???
Similar to Xiao, he initially just gets kind of angry.
He told you how serious this is for him, how much relationships mean to fennec foxes.
He had asked you over and over again if you were sure before making your relationship official and you had assured him that you were. You said forever.
You had known each other for years before - you knew his personality and his habits. You knew being a forest watcher was his top priority and how long he spent on patrols - nothing has changed so why are your feelings changing?
“I’m sorry, Tighnari, I just… I don’t think I can live like this forever. Working in the forest together was a fun way to pass time but I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t want to be with you anymore.“
He tries to talk it through - he wants to be logical and compromise with you. He asks you to set boundaries and be specific about your needs so that he has the chance to try to meet them - he will do anything to make this work, you just need to tell him what you need.
But you insist there’s nothing he can do, and without a proper explanation, you leave him behind.
It is easy to fall back into old routines and habits. Even if his lover is gone, the forest never rests.
He goes back to his patrols and reports and lectures – everything is the same as before yet it all feels completely wrong.
The days he used to look forward to – eagerly learning more about the forest he loved and sharing his findings with other curious minds – now feel like little more than a waste of time.
His passion is gone, the once burning desires now doused and his mind is only plagued with memories of you.
Quiet moments late at night in his tent are the worst. 
His bed feels uncharacteristically cold and empty without you in it. The calm night is much too quiet when your voice is not there to hum a tune you heard at the market.
“You’re being incredibly selfish right now – our relationship may be just a way to pass time for you but for me – it's all or nothing. There was no one before you and there will be no one after you. We made a commitment to each other and we need to stick it out. So tell me exactly what the problem is so we can work on it and fix it. Together. We have a whole lifetime to figure this out so don’t just give up on us so easily.”
⭐ Scaramouche
You have to be insane to leave this man - and not just ‘cause he is hot.
If you made it far enough for Scaramouche to let you into his heart, you already know his past. You know what has happened to him and how he feels about people leaving.
There is absolutely no way this will go well for either of you.
Once his heart is broken his immediate response is vengeance and retaliation.
If you think you are leaving him behind – betraying him like everyone else in his life – you have got another think coming.
“I’m serious, scaramouche. I don’t want this anymore. We’re just not meant for each other.”
“Ha– you think you have a choice? I must not have made myself clear – you are mine and you are not going anywhere without me.”
lol oops I made it yandere
While much less openly accommodating as Tighnari, Scaramouche is still willing to listen to your complaints and try to find a solution.
Although he’s possessive and a bit blinded by his own feelings, Scaramouche truly does love you and will do anything he can to make you happy–but only if you are happy with him.
If you physically leave, he will follow you. If you try to find someone else, he is not above getting rid of them. 
Once you enter a relationship with Scaramouch, for as long as the two of you are alive, you will be with each other.
“Do you finally understand? Good. Taking care of those mortal men you wanted to hang around with was starting to become tedious."
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lonelycowgirls · 2 years ago
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Been There All Along
Another concept nobody asked me for coming in hot...
I don't know about you, but I love the thought of Harry being in a long-term relationship. Call me old-fashioned, but the idea of him being truly in love with one special person since before One Direction just makes me feel all the feels!✨
So, I took influence from @satanhalsey's Since Forever universe - if you haven't read their writing you simply must because it's amazing - and here is my take.
For a bit of background, Stella is a midwife and Harry is everything he is in real life. This is a taster to their story, I'll see if you all like it first...
Please like, reblog and follow if you enjoy it!
My asks are also open for feedback and ideas to how this universe can continue.
Nel xxx
~
Where Stella goes to Harry’s last night at Madison Square Garden and gets a call that could change everything
Part one of two
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“He’s so amazing, Stell.  You must be so proud.”
Stella nodded to Jeff, Harry’s manager, who stood beside her in the arena.  She couldn’t believe that little Harry Styles from Cheshire was selling out 15 consecutive shows in New York City.  After 13 years together, she’d seen him play endless amounts of shows, not all of them he’d left feeling happy with but every one of them feeling grateful.  He’d been blessed and in turn, she’d been blessed too.  But they’d been through hardship recently, and she was beginning to lose faith in them as a couple and him as a partner - something she’d never seen coming.
“You’ve become exactly what we always feared.  You’ve become selfish and egotistical… you’re all... Hollywood now.  Remember who you are, Harry.  Remember the kind of person you wanted to be.  Remember us… Remember where you came from.”
That was the last thing she’d said to him before he’d hung up on her in a huff.  But she was there, of course, at the last show of his residency.  Because she was always there.  She was starting to worry that that was their problem.  She was always there, no matter what.  He, on the other hand, couldn’t always be there.  He’d missed her graduation from her midwifery course because he was on tour with the band.  He’d missed her beloved Granddad's funeral because he had a movie premiere he was contractually obliged to attend.  He’d missed her brother’s wedding because, “we’re running really behind on the album, Stell.  I can’t miss a single day, the release date is literally a month away.”  She’d cried all evening from embarrassment.  And from the seven shots of tequila that she’d downed before the first dance.
But still, she was always there.  Because she loved him and she loved being there.
They hadn’t spoken since he’d hung up on her that night she’d had a go at him.  She wasn’t someone who lost her temper easily, so it truly shocked Harry when she spoke to him in the manner that she had.  He was shaking when he’d hung up the phone.  Out of anger mostly, but also out of fear.  Fear that he could actually lose her this time.  That all they’d been through would be a waste.  He didn’t know what being without her was like.  They’d been a partnership since they were teenagers.  13 years on, he didn’t know his world without her.
She clapped along to Treat People With Kindness and did an awkward small two-step to Cinema, inwardly cringing at, “you’re getting yourself wet for me,” just like she always did.  Harry hadn’t even written that line but Tom knew the fans would love it.  She didn’t like the line and thought it was too on the nose and tactless.  Harry was clever and artistic when he wrote music.  And they were so private as a couple that it cringed her out to no end to think other people were thinking about and imagining their sex life.  Never once had he uttered those words to her because they both knew it would kill the mood. She loved when he talked dirty to her, but not if it sounded like he'd ripped it straight off a porn film.
She actually felt nervous in those moments before the encore.  She knew he’d want to see her but she didn’t want to feel the awkward tension that would probably encase the room that surrounded them.  She got her phone out to look at the time and saw a text from a friend at work.
George: 9.55pm
Mel’s gone into labour
George: 9.55pm
Got it dealt with but thought you might want to come in to support her x
George: 10.02pm
Let me know!
The hair on her arms stood up on end.  She’d been reviewing Melanie’s pregnancy for practically the whole eight months, she wasn’t due for another three weeks.  She’d grown very fond of her as a patient and knew that she was having the baby regardless of the fact the father wanted nothing to do with them.  She vowed that she wouldn’t miss the birth and would be there to support her.  Trouble was that she was thousands of miles away… in New York.  Harry had the means to get her back in six hours but she didn’t know how he might feel if she was to shoot off while they were having issues.  Just as Harry was rising back to the stage to sing Sign of the Times she tapped Jeff on the shoulder and held up her phone to signal she was taking a call.  He nodded and turned back to cheer on his friend.
Stella: 10.09pm
How far along, G?! x
George: 10.09pm
Not far at all, water’s only just broke and no contractions
George: 10.09pm
She’s only just left her house
George: 10.10pm
Wouldn’t have messaged if I thought you wouldn’t make it
Stella bit her lip in thought as Jeff put a hand on her shoulder, she jumped and swung around.  “Last song.”  He said in her ear, meaning it was almost time to head backstage.  Harry usually headed straight to the vans waiting outside, meeting Stella in the backseat and the two of them journeying back to their hotel.  Tonight they were planning to celebrate a little longer at the venue with the crew. Jeff said the arena had a surprise for Harry and that when the last song came on they would all move together to a designated area closer to the stage so that Harry could see them clearly.
She followed Jeff and the rest of Harry’s extensive entourage behind security guards.  She thought about the afterparty and tried to imagine herself drinking and mingling whilst she knew Melanie was giving birth, without her. It was Harry’s last night at The Garden… but she had to go.  She glanced back up at Harry on the stage, and then caught sight of Olivia’s silhouette dancing wildly with her friends to Kiwi.  She questioned whether if she left tonight, the shoulder Harry would choose to cry on would be Olivia's.  Would she be pushing him straight into her arms?  She shook her head to rid the thought and made the decision.  She turned and split from the group to rush back to Harry’s dressing room and pack her bag.  There wasn’t time to go back to the hotel, she’d have to hop a jet with what she’d brought to the arena.  Luckily, she always carried her passport as ID when she was in foreign countries.  Her hands shook with adrenaline as she used one to stuff things into her tote and one to call Harry’s travel manager.
“Stella?  What are you doing?”  Jeff said from the doorway.  She glanced at him before snapping back to put the phone to her ear.
“I’ve gotta get back home, Jeff.  Ugh, why aren’t you picking up the bloody phone?!”  She groaned in frustration as she redialed the number.
“I can get you a cab back to the hotel, Stell.  Just let me g-,”
“No, I mean I need to get on a plane back to the UK and these bloody people aren’t answering!”  She began to anger.  Jeff frowned and turned when he heard footsteps down the hallway.  Harry’s brow furrowed as he caught eyes with his confused manager who just shook his head back before stepping aside to allow him to enter the room.
“Stell?  You alright?”  His first response was to be concerned at how flustered she looked.  But he felt uncharacteristically nervous in her presence because of how they’d left their last conversation.  He stepped across the threshold as she put the last of her belongings into her bag and zipped it closed.  “Going somewhere?”  He laughed humourlessly, never expecting her to actually be leaving on a night like that.  One of the most special moments in his career.  He’d looked over, teary-eyed, to where he thought she’d be stood as his commemorative banner dropped and he saw everyone but her.  He saw Jeff, Glenne, James, and even Olivia.  He imagined there would be an influx of gifs and videos of his face falling all over social media by the time he got into bed that night and unlocked his phone.
He saw her bursting tote bag and felt his stomach turn over.  “Has something happened?  Is your mum okay?”  He said turning her to look at him with hands on her shoulders.
“Yes, Harry.  Everyone’s fine but I need to go home,” she looked up at him and sighed, avoiding his eyes.  “I need a plane.”
“Oh, why?  Urgently?” She’d shaken off his hands from her shoulders and was heading for the door.  “Stell, everyone’s in the other room waiting to celebrate.  You need to tell me what’s going on or I’ll start to think this is it.”  Stella's shoulders sank and she sighed deeply.  Even just hearing him talk about them ending like that made her feel sick.
“I need to go back home because a patient of mine is in labour.  George texted me during the show.”
“Seriously?  You want to travel eight hours to see some woman give birth, something you see every day, when we haven’t seen each other in weeks?  When I haven’t seen you since you had a go at me over the phone?”  She swung back around and jumped when she realised how close he was.  He looked angry, but when Harry looked angry he looked about as intimidating as a growling puppy.
"Come with me then!"
"Really? That's unfair, you know I can't do that." He said defeatedly. "Stell, she's just another patient, you'll have hundreds more to take care of in your lifetime." He said, softer, trailing his fingers down her arms to hold her hands in an effort to convince her. She snatched her hands away.
“Are you serious right now?”  She poked his sweaty chest.  “She’s not just a patient, she’s a woman in my care.    She’s someone I’ve spent most of my time with for nearly a year and someone I’ve grown to care about.” She turned to walk down the hallway, him following close after her.  She whipped around again in frustration. “You’d know all about it if you paid attention to anyone talking about anything that wasn’t to do with you.”  His eyes blazed and he opened his mouth to argue before they heard someone pointedly knock on the wall.
“Hey, H, we’re all waiting to toast you.”  Olivia smiled from the doorway of the catering room.  They both turned to look at her and Stella breathed deeply through her nose and glared at Harry when he glared back.
“Go on, H," She made a point of using the nickname.  "You deserve to celebrate.”
“Stella,”
“Just get me a plane and I’ll be out of your hair.”  She smiled, short and tight-lipped, checking her phone for the time, every second she spent arguing with Harry was time she couldn’t afford to waste.  He stepped forward so that Olivia couldn’t hear as clearly.
“If you think it's more important, sure, I’ll get you the plane.”  His nostrils flared but she stayed stoic.  “This hurts me though, Stell." She softened slightly at his words. "How do you think it’s gonna look to everyone that you raced off somewhere instead of being here for me?”  Stella scoffed. She couldn’t even force herself to argue with him anymore, she couldn’t believe how selfish he’d become.  She didn’t even want to look at him, he was nothing like the boy she’d fallen in love with.  She took her gaze to the floor to keep from rolling her eyes.  He nodded in submission.  “I’ll go get Jeff to sort the plane out.  Hope you get there safe.”
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Stella sat in her aeroplane seat, taking deep breaths to keep herself calm as they flew over France.  She was so close to returning to the UK and ached to take her phone off of safety mode.  But a part of her was thankful to switch off, to be forced to stop doom scrolling through endless pictures and videos of Harry that fans would post on social media after a show.  She prayed that Melanie was holding back, that she’d make it on time.  The way she’d left things with Harry made her very anxious, to the point where she’d picture him and feel nauseous with anxiety.  They’d never been in such a state.  She questioned every move she’d made leading up to boarding that plane. The plane that he would end up paying for.  She shook her head and leaned it back on the headrest, closing her eyes and running her hands over her face.  She didn’t want to cry in front of the crew, she couldn’t trust whether they’d be taking pictures, despite it being a private plane company.  All the years with Harry had caused her to become paranoid.
“Would you like another coffee, Miss Mallone?”  Stella jumped again, the day’s events had caused her to have the serenity of a doe in headlights.
“Oh, yes, please.  Thank you so much.” She said, smiling softly at the kind air hostess, she looked barely 21 years old.  ‘Caitlin’ was written on her gold badge pinned to the lapel of her sleek navy blue skirt suit.  Caitlin probably knew exactly who she was, and probably wondered why Harry wasn’t on the plane with her.  Stella went red with embarrassment and awkwardness and lifted the beige cashmere blanket up to her chin.  She rolled over to her side in her reclined seat and stared out at the passing clouds through the small plastic window.  She glanced at her watch, around ten past eight in the morning back in London.  About five o’clock in the morning back in New York.  She thought of Harry,  she couldn’t help it.  He’d probably just be getting back to the hotel after a night of celebrations.  He’d flip the lamp on, and see her suitcase that she’d had to leave to go straight to the airport.  He’d roll his eyes as he collected up her makeup that was sprawled across the bed where she’d sat in her fluffy hotel dressing gown an hour before the show, dragging eyeliner across her lids in a rush because, as always, she’d been running late.  He’d see her neatly folded stack of fresh underwear and pyjamas that rested on top of her pillow, ready for when they stumbled through the door, full of Champagne bubbles and Don Julio shots, giggling with wandering hands and greedy lips.  Perhaps he’d smile a bit at the clothing knowing she’d done the same thing since the first time she’d stayed the night at his mum's house.  He’d imagine her doing the same for their children, so they could have cosy memories of when they stayed at big fancy hotels away from home with mum and dad.
She opened her eyes when she felt a slight shove to her shoulder and turned to see Caitlin again, the lights were off, replaced with a low twinkle from the warm strips that glowed from the overhead bag compartments.  
“Miss Mallone, apologies for disturbing your nap.  We’re preparing to land in ten minutes.”  Stella nodded, still a bit out of it and wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth and cheek with her thumb.  Caitlin helped her push her seat back up from its reclined position and handed her a glass of water, assuming correctly that she’d have a dry mouth.
“Thank you, Caitlin.”
“You’re welcome.  Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Mallone?”
“No, thank you, you’ve been fantastic,”  Stella smiled genuinely at the young girl who nodded.  “Just ready to get home now.”  She leaned forward to take a big gulp of water before resting back, clipping her seatbelt and bracing for landing.
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As soon as the tyres hit the tarmac and she was ensured that she could turn her phone off aeroplane safety mode, Stella called George.  She skipped over the texts from Pauli checking on her and went straight to dial.
“Hiya Stell, she’s still going,” Stella sighed deeply in immense relief.  She grabbed her bag with the phone to her ear and nodded to the flight crew as they lined up to show her off the aircraft.  “Where are you now?”
“Literally just getting off the plane,” she walked over to the car that had been organised to take her straight to London Royal Hospital.  “Tell her I’m coming, won’t you?”
“She already knows, she said to tell you you’re mad!”  Stella chuckled and sunk back into the soft leather, thankful for the heated seats after coming straight from the heat of New York City, and being dressed accordingly.  She stressed to George to keep her updated and then hung up.  Tapping through to the messages app, she navigated to Pauli's chat.
Pauli: 10.24am
You good, S?
Pauli: 10.35am
H said you dipped, you've spun him out
Me: 11.02am
Tell him I’m fine x
She tapped out the message and locked her phone to watch London go by as she sped to her destination.  She was fine, regardless of how she couldn’t sit still and how her hair had become greasy with how many times she’d raked her fingers through it.  She thought it was nice of Pauli to check on her, but she knew Harry was pissed off and would most likely be puking up the walls by now.  He never handled anger well. With all the free booze, she knew he would be taking everything offered to him when he was in a certain headspace.  She just hoped Olivia wasn’t an option on that list.  But she couldn’t imagine him doing something so hurtful.
Finally, the driver pulled up after getting stuck in what felt like endless traffic.  She rushed through the double doors of the hospital and ran past the desk to the lifts, bashing the button to call it.
“Morning, Val!” She exclaimed as the maternity check-in clerk frowned in her direction, confused as to what she was doing there when she’d booked the week off.  
“What on earth ya doing here, girl?” She yelled brashly in her Jamaican accent, waddling behind Stella as she whipped her way through the ward towards the staff changing rooms to get into her uniform.
“I couldn’t miss Mel’s birth.”  The older woman’s face fell before she kissed her teeth and threw her arms in the air, stomping and mumbling back out to man the desk.  Thankful to be ridding herself of the clothes she’d travelled almost seven hours in, she opened her locker and grabbed her scrubs and shoes.  She bundled her hair into a, ‘as neat as it’s going to get,’ top knot and washed her hands and forearms with warm soapy water.  She took a deep breath in the mirror and tapped at her under-eye bags to try and get the blood flowing and skin de-puffing.  Stuffing her belongings into her locker she exited the changing room and as luck would have it, ran straight into George, the head of her department.
“You’re here!” He said, wide-eyed.  “Come on, she’s well on her way now.  Doing brilliantly.”  He marched ahead of her back to the ward and drew back the curtain to where Melanie was led, belly strapped up and gas and air flowing.  “Got a visitor for you, Mel.”
Melanie’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she saw Stella peek around the corner.  “Oh my God!” She tried to get out but it came muffled due to the tube she was holding in her mouth.  Stella manoeuvred herself around the side of her bed into Mel’s open arms for a squeeze.  “You must be mad, Stell.  Oough.” She groaned the last part, contractions taking over.
“Alright, how are we doing with examinations?  Dilation stats?”
“She was at four centimetres half an hour ago.  Contractions seem to be every three minutes.”
“Okay, so we’re definitely in active labour.  Shall we do another quick check?”  Mel groaned again and took a good pull off the tube, turning onto her back and spreading her legs.  It’s true when they say dignity goes out the door in childbirth.  Stella manoeuvred the stool over to where Melanie’s legs were perched on medical stirrups.  “Okay,” she said, lubing up her gloved fingers and diving right in.  “Hmm, just relax for me, Mel.  That’s it, well done.”  Mel leaned her head back and groaned in pain as she contracted once again, the pangs coming faster as time went on.  Stella pulled her hand out and passed the glove to George to get rid of.  “That’s about seven centimetres.  Time to get you through to the delivery room I’d say.”  Stella grinned excitedly at Melanie, she always tried to keep the energy positive during labours, especially for first-time mothers who would usually be terrified.  She moved up to the head of the bed and stroked back Melanie's hair away from her forehead. She was well and truly sucking the life out of the gas and air machine by then.  Her watery blue eyes stared up at Stella with worry and pain.  “It’s all going to be fine.  We’ve got you.”
The room turned to chaos as the curtain was yanked back and nurses flanked each side of Melanie’s bed as they wheeled it to the nearest free delivery room.
~
Part two coming soon!
Author's note: I realise this is the second angsty piece I've posted on here... we're 2/2 now.
I guess I really am a messy bitch who loves drama.
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vioranhyperfixation · 7 months ago
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Damian : #011, it has come to my attention that you are unproductive at the leisure time you are excuse with during the time when I'm unavailable. And that's just improper.
#011 : um.. Then what I'm supposed to do? There's nothing here.
Damian : i have realized that too so I decided to brought upon you this
#011 : ???
Damian : this is doll's, a toy with a shell that have similarity to human that most use to play pretend.
Damian : that would also be the case for you. You shall use this doll's to help develop your productivity and creativity.
#011 : ahhh..
Damian : would you like to play it with me?
#011 : yeah!
Damian : then shall we make a series of stories with those doll? Let me start it, this girl is a star, her name is Khalila. She is a bright star, it just that she has a problem, she has not yet granted a human wish like all other star has done. So she was hoping to find someone to grant wish to, upon that thought she caught a brown girl looking hopefull at the sky and she thought, maybe this would be the day!
#011 :
Damian :
#011 :
#011 : uhhhh,, should I continue it?
Damian : yeah, just said anything you want
011 : "star, if you can hear me, please listen to my plea. My brothen had betrayed me and I'm left with the rubble of my home..
Damian : *nod and nudge him to continue
#011 : "I use to think that they would always stand besides me, I don't know they feel that that they are behind me! I- I just want the best for all of us!
Sometimes in the future at the wayne manor
Bruce : Rafi, is there anything you want to do on the weekend?
Rafi : yeah, I'm going to continue the ten wish
Bruce : is that a show you watch?
Tim : what it is about? I don't think I ever heard of that.
Rafi : of course you don't, because ten wish is not a show. It's my doll's lore on the 34th universe
Bruce : sorry?
Tim : well, that's interesting
Rafi : it is, currently my main character. River, is undergoing a survival competition to secure a position on the Catalyst. But because she is well known on her talent of fighting and intelligence she need to use other way to compete, and that's is by registering herself as a professional mourner
Bruce : what?
Rafi : you know, It is a tradition in South East Asia that a loud funeral will assist the dead as they travel to the afterlife, so professional mourners are hired to cry and weep loudly throughout the service. And she register herself as that. I mean, most of her loved one are dead, so she's pretty good at it. Crying and weeping that is.
Bruce : I don't think that's a good way to deal with having your loved one died.
Rafi : I don't want to hear that from someone going feral when his son died.
Bruce :
Tim :
Tim : yeah, I won't lie. It is pretty bad bruce
Rafi : anyway, it has been going pretty well on river part. On the other hand, things are going pretty badly on Khalila part. Jupiter and Neptunus heve yet to come back after the moon revolution.
Tim : wait- wait- you mean evolution?
Rafi : no, revolution.
Tim : okay- I think we skip a big part here.
Rafi : yeah, obviously. This is part 57, you skip 56 part, you're missing on a lot.
Tim : can't we, start from part one?
Rafi : god no, it's a lot. If we put it into book it can lead from 7 to 9 book! If you want to know about what you're missing at you can ask Jason, he listen from the start since we are at LoA. If you don't feel like asking then just skip it, you will understand later anyway.
Jason *who's putting a criminal body to a trash can : hatchuu-
Roy : bless you man
Jason : is someone talking about me? God I hope it's not Bruce.
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o-hora-o · 5 months ago
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hello your art is amazing !! i wondered, do you have hcs / doodles / thoughts about the aftermath of the 1955 disaster ? be it eins and tesla's reaction, how they had to support each others to rise again, how eins had to survive joyce's loss etc... also i'm curious because we always talk about einjoyce in 55 naturally, but the game showed us she still thinks of him even in 2018, it's been so long.... after all the welt joyce is the whole pillar emblem and creation of anti-entropy, it must be hard to be one of the founder of a worldwide organization based on your old lover's legacy otl
Thank you very much!!! Both for the compliment and the question. I often think about 55's aftermath, of course. And these thoughts torment me most of the time so that I draw sketches and make hcs about the alternative outcome. Sometimes I do want to draw more arts about canonical events, and I probably will but it's just...hard.  
Now further goes my headcanonical 1955 disaster aftermath and einjoyce fan ramble and I’m sorry in advance if this is not what you expected to hear from me: 
In the novel, Ada mentioned that after waking up, Ein and Tesla accepted everything that had happened very calmly. But I imagine Ada wasn't present there when they woke up, she spent all her time with Joachim and took care of him. And maybe at some point, the boy got so attached to her that that’s why he eventually decided to run away with her for 20 years, away from the problems and legacy of the late hero (And then hi3 mentions Ada only...what, once?) I imagine that Ada was really the only one who could look after Joachim because Planck spent most of her time in the hospital. 
So, now let’s talk about Planck. I love Emma, she might have quirks but she’s very dear to me. She played the mother figure whose presence could bring the sense of peace, comfort and safety. Emma was “everything is going to be alright” person with a strong yet soft spirit, she was someone Lieserl aspired to be. But oh, how lonely she’d been...throughout all her life. I think Carl was the only one who understood her like no one else. Then she lost him and was on the verge of losing her dear girls. Not to mention she had already lost Edison and Schrodinger. She had to take Edison's place and single-handedly create an entire organization out of the ashes, and Schrodinger...Planck did not live to see the day when it turned out that Erwin was alive. So yeah, Emma was a lonely woman with no one by her side but the unthinkable unbearable burden, she was the first one who had to carry the weight of the World on her shoulders. All in all, back in 1955-56 Plank was either in the hospital or busy trying to find a new base. Oh, yes, most likely she had to organize funerals which Ein and Tesla, obviously, missed. 
Ein and Tesla...as I’ve already said once, not seeing waking-up-from-coma scene in the novel was the greatest loss but the greatest blessing at the same time. I think it was the hardest and most horrific moment in their lives. And I also like to imagine around then they got drunk together for the first time. 
To be honest, I admire Tesla's copium and how she's doing...mostly alright these days. Especially regarding her unfortunate life. But damn how easily 1955 can trigger her. I think she's been holding a very deep personal grudge against Welt all these years. She almost never mentions him or speaks his name out load and, in general, she never speaks of those years either, unlike Ein. If Ein and Joachim are stuck mentally in the past, Tesla seems to exist only within "today". It's only when Joachim tries to sacrifice himself over and over again all the accumulated resentment and despair wakes up in her. Because Welt's sacrifice did all this to Joachim and Welt's legacy is louder than Tesla's cry to stop playing a lonely hero. I think Tesla is a definition of "I told you so" in this story. She was the one who foresaw Welt's death. She was the one who wanted to share her "know there's nothing worth remembering in our lives so there's no need to dwell on the past" ideology to help him let go of the guilt and start appreciating his life. I think she cared about him no less then Ein because I see Tesla and Welt as a younger brother/older sister duo, they always bicker, tease but care for each other nonetheless. So of course when she woke up, she was lost, angry, hysterical and hurt. I think she deserves no less than Joachim or Ein the opportunity to meet Welt again and to talk everything she’s been holding inside all these years out. But apparently this was too boring for the writers, and they just decided to erase Welt’s soul for forever and took away from AE the opportunity to try locating his soul in the core and bring him back when they’re not busy preventing the end of the world every day. But instead, we got Joffrey (I have nothing against the boy but this whole clone thing just feels so.... utterly wrong, help). And I find it ironic that the one who unwillingly made Tesla’s life a mess is, kinda, became her son whom she’s been taking care of and who will be by her side from now on. 
And Lieserl...you know, I’ve never been a fan of romantic stories but somehow einjoyce got a chokehold on me and my heart, for me they’re the true manifestation of soulmates and match-made-in-heaven thing. I already had a little brainrot post about her living after 1955 but yes, you are right, she still thinks of him even in 2018 and I still can’t wrap my mind around it. That and the fact she’d been analysing him for 3 years before she took him in to the 42 lab. For 3 years, without seeing him in person (and she even tried to practice talking less “nonsense” so she would look mysterious and idk attractive to him? But totally failed on the very first day spent together with him). And then, in the course of one, ONE, month Welt became someone who could not only understand Ein’s quirks, chaotic thoughts but also enjoy her personality and communicate with her in pure silence. He was the last one she talked to so freely and who actually listened to her. And Lieserl being ready to rather die than let Erwin hurt Welt is a whole “hear me out” conversation on its own. So yes, I believe a part of her died that day with Welt and the other - later on with the death of her "ultimate navigator" Planck (I still think about how she shortly mentioned that that period was a nightmare for the organization). Now she's just Doctor Einstein and even though she acts as her younger self from time to time she still feels like an... empty cold vessel with an escapistic fixation on work, books and games. And if she has no Tesla to tease, no work to do, no book to read and no game to play, she escapes into nostalgic thoughts. Does she really care about the future of the world and humanity? Because I think she can't care less about 99% people around her. She and Joachim are just driven by symbolic and twisted sense of Welt's legacy who thought his death would be insignificant and then it turned their lives upside down and inside out. Does she even care about Joachim or just sees him as a part of Welt’s legacy? 
But back to the 1956. 
Would it be too sadistic to imagine she had a long dream in which no one died whilst she was in coma? I remember I had an old headcanon similar to this one but it's about present days where 14th Herrscher puts everyone to sleep with an ideal dream. And it back loops to the moment when Ein wakes up in sweat early in the morning in the villa of Southend-on-Sea.  
But anyway. The moment when she woke up from coma...I’m no writer but let’s say her consciousness awakened before her sensations. She couldn't understand where she was or who she was. She didn't remember what happened. And this void of perception caused both calmness and unease for her, everything around felt like through fathomless water. It was hard for her to open eyes and concentrate because she was met by blinding light and dizziness instead. Her hands were shaking, and her body was shivering when she tried to get up. As she called for Welt and Tesla her lips felt numb and every word seemed to scratch her throat, taking away all her energy so that she was ready to fall asleep again. And let’s say Tesla woke up sooner than Ein so that Nicola and Emma were both in anticipation and fear of the moment when she would wake up only to split her life into “before” and “after” with mere three words. She would be in denial and panic would slowly rise up her throat. As the realisation set in, she would slowly suffocate on the verge of tears. Because all of it was so unfair, she entrusted her little World’s fate to the world, and it took him away. She failed to protect him, and the guilt slowly consumed her from the inside day after day, year after year. And to give her an eternal life with an option of ending it by her will is... sigh. I hope she and Tesla at least got sedative pills while in hospital. 
So that’s when Tesla and Ein formed a strong bond. But their problem is that they are constantly keeping all their opinions, feelings and thoughts to themselves (yes, even Tesla) and most likely it resulted in various quarrels and then Emma helped them realise that from now on they only have each other and the life will go on but in the end... they will be the only one left.  
Sometimes I forget that not long after all of this hospital chaos they took part in numerous interviews with Joachim who had to shapeshift into Welt's appearance, and he had to do that for years. That's almost as dreadful as getting eternal lives.  
As you can see, I can endlessly talk about them and all the known scenes they took part in after 1955. I honestly tried to write my thoughts as short as possible, and I hope you don’t regret opening this door into abyss of my endless thoughts with your question. 
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xq1zi · 2 years ago
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the other women will always cry herself to sleep
|angst| fem!reader| english not fist language| not proof read
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being born into a noble family was never a good thing. others may say differently. but really what do they know? the way you try to “grown up” but in reality, you don’t even know what those words mean anymore. never having a friend or someone to cry on. not even having a sibling as you are an only child. your parents wishing that they had a boy her he can carry on the family name. to your parents never saw you as a person let alone someone with feelings.
you have a chance to be someone. as you are getting married to kamisato ayato. it almost felt like a blessing from celestia.
finally to be first someone's choice. someone who will see you or let you be free.
you had only met the young lord couple. as late teens when giving your grievance at his parent's funeral. or at social gatherings when you saw him from afar. this time will be at your wedding. “[name] for the love of all good, please don’t mess this up.” your mother said. “yes mother.” dinner time was never your favorite time. having to sit with the people you hated most in the world for a meal everyday. “may i go now? i have finished.” you said. “you may go.” your mother sighed.
when getting up and leaving the dining room you could hear some maids bad-mouthing you
“oh it’s lady [name]”
“she is quite weird you know.”
“i know i heard her once about how she wanted a new life.”
“what?! she is so lucky to be born into a noble family.”
“right, we could never be so lucky”
they stop bickering when they see you getting close. but it was too late you had heard it all. you go quickly to your room and locking the door. it seems like no one will understand how you feel.
the wedding will be next week. and everyone is getting ready but no one wanted your help so you were left with nothing to do and just think. will even he love you? will he even care about you? was this even worth it?
“my lady, we should get you ready for bed.” it was the head maid. she always took care of you. you sigh. you need time alone. “okay.” you walk to the bathroom with them and got in the warm bathtub. “you can leave, i can wash myself.” “i can't do that. i must be with you all the time. what if someone tries to take your life? I can not leave you”
“well i can tell you this no one will try to kill someone whose life has no meaning to it.” she sighed. “alright, i will be waiting outside the door.” the water is so warm. so calm. it was time to get out.
sleeping was extremely difficult. your eyes won't close. so you just lay there.
time went by so fast that you didn't even notice it
the day of the wedding felt so wrong. were you really about to get married? the answer was yes when you said your i do’s. ayato was a handsome man. you feel sorry that he was to be married to you. the wedding was short. so when it was over you had to go meet your sister-in-law. she was so beautiful. you also meet a man called thoma he was a kind man. the three of you talked but your social skills weren’t the best. thoma showed you the bedroom that you and ayato will be sharing from now on.
there you are, in the room that you will be sharing with him. but he never showed. you slept alone. you ate alone. you spend your time alone. you only saw him at the wedding. and nobody told you where he was because no one seem to know. the wedding was two weeks ago havent seen him since then. making up your mind and deciding to sneak out since you can’t go outside without a personal guard.
you could feel the cold night. it was refreshing. you went and walked around. this feeling of freedom was amazing. you walked for hours you were at a unknown place. someone had bumped into you as to see they weren't seeing where they were going. the man was surprised that someone walking at night in a strange place.
“are you lost miss?” he had a soft spoked voice
“oh, im afraid i am. i know don’t the city very well”
“thats fine whats your clothes look very nice so i suppose your a noble?”
“ah! yes i am my name is [name] [last na-] oh its kamisato now”
he looked at you with confusion but he continued to introduce himself
“my name is aether come i’ll lead you to the kamisato estate”
“thank you very much”
as you two walked you had a small conversation he asked you about your new marriage. “well im not sure if im even a good wife,” you took in a deep breath “i havent seen him seen the wedding but i hope we can be a good couple. im sure hes just busy” he took a second to answer “yeah i hope you too the best. so here we are” you didnt noticed that you had arrived. “thank you once again. goodnight.” and then you went back inside.
aether knew that when ayato that when he had bumped into him a few week ago with the ‘love of his life’ in matter in fact it was not you. he felt bad for you because he probably knew that ayato was avoiding you and spending time with her. as he was leaving there he was in the flesh. “aether its surprising see you here at night” “ahah ayato can speak with you please”
as you were seeking back in you heard something from ayato office. “ayato please tell them, they need not to get their hopes up” “no, then what a divorce? we cant do that or better yet let the people know that i kamisato ayato is not truthful to my wife! i just cant i know its bad”
you went back to bed. what a fool you had been. you’ll really always be the other women that will cry herself to sleep. he will never love you. he will never care. you’ll never have someone there for you and to care. life is never fair.
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guitarhappyman · 1 year ago
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Let people know.
One day a teacher asked her students to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name.
Then she told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down.
It took the remainder of the class period to finish their assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed in the papers.
That Saturday, the teacher wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and listed what everyone else had said about that individual.
On Monday she gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. 'Really?' she heard whispered. 'I never knew that I meant anything to anyone!' and, 'I didn't know others liked me so much,' were most of the comments.
No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. She never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another. That group of students moved on.
Several years later, one of the students was killed in
Vietnam and his teacher attended the funeral of that special student. She had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. He looked so handsome, so mature.
The church was packed with his friends. One by one those who loved him took a last walk by the coffin. The teacher was the last one to bless the coffin.
As she stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as pallbearer came up to her. 'Were you Mark's math teacher?' he asked. She nodded: 'yes.' Then he said: 'Mark talked about you a lot.'
After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates went together to a luncheon. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting to speak with his teacher.
'We want to show you something,' his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket 'They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it.'
Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. The teacher knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which she had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him.
'Thank you so much for doing that,' Mark's mother said. 'As you can see, Mark treasured it.'
All of Mark's former classmates started to gather around. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, 'I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home.'
Chuck's wife said, 'Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding album.'
'I have mine too,' Marilyn said. 'It's in my diary'
Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. 'I carry this with me at all times,' Vicki said and without batting an eyelash, she continued: 'I think we all saved our lists'
That's when the teacher finally sat down and cried. She cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.
The density of people in society is so thick that we forget that life will end one day. And we don't know when that one day will be.
So please, tell the people you love and care for, that they are special and important. Tell them, before it is too late.
And One Way To Accomplish This Is: Forward this message on. If you do not send it, you will have, once again passed up the wonderful opportunity to do something nice and beautiful.
If you've received this, it is because someone cares for you and it means there is probably at least someone for whom you care.
If you're 'too busy' to take those few minutes right now to forward this message on, would this be the VERY first time you didn't do that little thing that would make a difference in your relationships?
The more people that you send this to, the better you'll be at reaching out to those you care about.
Remember, you reap what you sow. What you put into the lives of others comes back into your own.
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p-redux · 1 year ago
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You know, I am stunned at the lack of logic and critical thinking in this fandom. It’s like those with extreme opinions have such strong confirmation bias that they can’t get out of their own way. When I read some of these posts on lots of different blogs, I am struck at the logical questions that are never truly answered- well except by ad hominem attacks and logical fallacies and extensive conspiracy theories.
1. Wouldn’t a TV show that’s not on a well-known and popular streaming service love the PR they’d get if their costars were actually in love and in a real life relationship? What value does the production company gain by keeping them hidden for almost 10 years? I can’t logically see that it would bring more profits. So we’re supposed to love a loyal, brave, committed, and family-oriented Jamie, but we need a single, sexy Sam to sell the show?? Cognitive dissonance anyone?
2. Now that it’s well established that Sam and Caitriona essentially ARE Outlander and are EPs, wouldn’t they have the power to say no more if this “ narrative” was true? If they quit, there’s no OL. Couldn’t they refuse to film anything else if they aren’t allowed to tell the truth (if it’s hidden)? It’s interesting that Ron and Terri are married, Maril and Matt have twins together, but S and C were forbidden to be together? I would think that could be a legitimate lawsuit. Didn’t they renegotiate new contracts since the first season?
3. Do people actually believe that Sam and Caitriona are good people, philanthropic people, hard working entrepreneurial people, wonderful human beings but at the same time think that either of them would actually lie about their own children? With Sam’s childhood, people honestly think he would deny his kids AND be away from them for months? That they both would lie and deceive us about her father’s funeral?
4. So it’s been 10 years and NOT ONE person associated with either of them has publicly and clearly stated, with no doubts or other possible connotations, that they are really together? No costars? No personal friends? No teacher of their kids? No hospital personnel where the kids were born? No extras on OL? No crew members- even those that have been gone long enough that any NDA they signed about the production would have expired? No hotel staff where they may have traveled with their kids? No former “fake gfs” who might be pissed? No friends of “ fake gfs” that want to defend their friend and set the record straight? Not one person who has been associated with OL who might just think this is harmful to children? No photos of them with kids in public- clear photos, not reflections or someone in the background that we cannot clearly identify? Not videos where we cannot tell who is actually there? Wouldn’t someone somewhere have gotten a photo of them together as a family? In ten years? Have you P, seen evidence that I haven’t? I have seen nothing but reflections, blurry images, unidentifiable people in the background. Am I missing something?
5. About their chemistry- they aren’t the only actors I have ever seen that have great chemistry but no real romantic relationship. There are lots of them. It’s like people don’t know what actors actually do. So much of chemistry in acting between actors is about trust and respect for the work. Even some of the best chemistry has been between actors who didn’t really like each other in real life, but were able to use their chemistry and their talent to create characters we believed loved each other.
6. Lastly, I can’t wrap my brain around liking and respecting these two actors for their work and for their real lives, while claiming every day they are lying to me.
People see what they want to see or what they need to see to support their position.
Occam’s Razor tells me that the simplest explanation is often the best one.
Hopefully when OL finally ends, these two will get some peace.
Now, watch the “but what about ______? “start.
Bless you Anon for summarizing everything I and countless other SANE fans have been saying in the Outlander fandom for the last 9 years. The thing is...some Extreme Shippers continue to ship for a few reasons. I put them in these categories:
1. OG shippers who have invested SO many YEARS in their SamCait fantasy ship. They want to "save face." It's embarrassing to acknowledge that you were fed and believed a LIE for so long. Their egos can't handle it, so they'd rather double down, and find a way to pretzel their brains around things that are obvious facts to the rest of us. They don't want to feel like they "lost." So, they just keep on denying the TRUTH and the mountains of evidence showing that Sam and Cait are not a couple in real life. The alternative is too painful to them. It's been too much time, too much energy, too much of themselves invested in the ship, and they are missing something in their real lives. The ship fills that void.
2. New fans to Outlander who have recently discovered it. They've gone down the rabbit hole of shipper Tumblr, Facebook, Instagram and Twitter X accounts and they haven't climbed their way out yet to blogs like mine, and other Non-Shippers.
3. The Fake Shippers who pretend to be shippers to MAKE MONEY off those still clinging on to the life boats. There are still bloggers and shipper groups who know they have a captive audience in shippers holding out hope that some of what the original shipper leaders sold them might actually be true. These fake shippers manipulate gifs, pictures, videos, SHOW shippers what they WANT to see. They keep them hanging on with podcasts, magazine, subscriptions. They sell them trips to Scotland, conventions t-shirts, mugs, daily "proof" that Sam and Cait secretly live together with their 5 bairns. And because con artists are experts at conning people, they make everything believable...and some poor souls buy what they're selling. Literally BUY 💵 what they're selling. Sadly, this fandom is filled with a lot of retired women with disposable income, who are lonely or disillusioned with their own lives. And they are easy pickings for the money hungry fake shippers.
So, in summary, the reason there are still some SamCait Shippers is a combination of fake shippers SELLING them the fantasy AND women needing to STILL hold onto the fantasy. With a few actually mentally unwell women thrown in here and there, who have diagnosable mental health issues.
It's actually quite sad. If only they had gotten off the ship with the rest of us years ago, they could have been enjoying celebrating REAL love. Instead, they're on a constantly rocky ship that causes them disappointment more often than not. Here, on terra firma, no one needs Dramamine. It's lovely. Because it's REAL. 💞
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raina-at · 1 year ago
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Bitter
I'm putting the tags here because of the content warning.
Thank you for the prompt @calaisreno
Tagging @lisbeth-kk @keirgreeneyes @jrow @thetimemoves @7-percent @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely and anyone else who wants to play.
Content warning: This ficlet contains something that could reasonably be interpreted as a suicide attempt. This gets dark, though it has a hopeful ending. Please proceed with caution.
John is drunk.
John is so far past drunk.
There’s not a word in his vocabulary for how far past drunk he is. And if it was, he certainly wouldn’t know it now.
He’s sitting in the dark on the floor in 221B, leaning against his chair. All around him, shards of glass litter the room. First he threw the whisky glass when it slipped out of his fingers. Then he threw the bottle when it was empty. Then he threw the vases with flowers left over from Sherlock’s funeral.
There’s a shard of glass cutting into his calf. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t feel much anymore, which is a blessing, really, because everything hurts. His chest burns with the alcohol and the tears that just won’t fall. The bitterness burns down his throat all the way down to his stomach, which is rebelling from too much alcohol and too little food. 
He doesn’t remember when he last ate. Or drank something other than whisky. He’s been back at 221B for hours, and he’s lost any sense of time.
He just wants to pass out in this ruined flat, his ruined life. Maybe he’ll choke on his own vomit during the night.
What a fitting end for the most useless person on the planet. 
Why can he never save anyone he cares about? His father, dead at forty, unable or unwilling to stop drinking and smoking and driving while drunk, which was what got him in the end. His mother, ovarian cancer, dead at fifty. All the hospital visits and experimental treatments and doctors he dragged her to and then she died when he was on his second tour. Heart attack. From the chemo, they said. The chemo he talked her into. She hadn’t wanted another round. He’d convinced her. And then she died, and he wasn’t there. Harry never forgave him. He lost her to the bottle not long after. 
And now Sherlock. Died before his very eyes, and John, useless, worthless John Watson, was unable to stop him. 
“Fuck,” he mutters, and takes another swig from the almost empty whisky bottle. 
Maybe he should stop drinking.
But he can still feel it. The pain. It permeates every cell of his body, right down to the very marrow of his bones. It never stops, not when he’s awake, at least. It’s like a scream that’s trapped in his body, cutting him up from the inside. The sound he couldn’t make when Sherlock jumped. 
He takes another sip. “And fuck you very much, too,” he whispers, then throws the bottle directly at Sherlock’s chair. 
The anger is almost as bad as the pain. It burns up and down his throat, bitter and hot and destructive. How could you do this to me? How could you leave me? How could you make me watch, make me complicit in your death? 
It doesn’t matter. There’s no answer. There will never be an answer.
He puts a palm to the floor, tries to stand up. The glass cuts into his skin. It feels good, this actual physical pain. He slips and falls down as he tries to get up, too dizzy to move.
He’s dimly aware that this is bad. It’s really bad. He can’t get up, he can’t see straight. He can’t really speak anymore. 
He takes out his mobile with shaky fingers, hits speed dial 3, drops the phone onto the floor.
It rings, rings, rings.
Someone picks up.
“John?”
He tries to answer and can’t.
The last thing he’s aware of is the door opening and Mrs Hudson’s scream.
*-*
Hands on him. Emergency lights. Someone is yelling his name. He thinks it’s Lestrade. 
He vomits all over the ambulance. 
A quiet voice asks someone whether there was a note.
Fuck, John thinks, and passes out again.
*-*
They wake him several times over the next few hours. He remembers almost nothing, just anonymous faces asking his name, what year it is, and who’s Prime Minister. They prod him and shine lights into his eyes.
He falls asleep again, dimly aware that he fucked up, but too exhausted to care.
*-*
The next time he wakes up, he must have been asleep for some time, because the clock on the wall and the light coming in from outside say it’s early evening.
He’s in a small, white hospital room. It’s very quiet.
Sherlock Holmes is sitting next to his bed. His clothes are dishevelled, he hasn’t shaved or bathed in several days, his face is pale as death and his eyes are red from crying.
John swallows and winces. His parched throat hurts infernally, he has a monster headache, his hands are bandaged and he feels like a car ran him over, then backed up and took another pass. 
So he’s clearly alive.
But he must have lost his mind, somehow. Happens. Psychotic break. He’s heard of it.
Sherlock looks terrible. Not only physically, but for the first time since John has known him, he looks like he doesn’t know what to do next. He looks lost. 
“Funny,” he rasps, his voice shot to shit from alcohol and vomiting. “I thought I’d imagine you like you were, you know, all put together. Maybe you look like shit because I feel like shit.”
Sherlock looks up and stares at him, wordlessly. He looks devastated. He blinks a few times, and John realises he’s crying.
“Why are you crying, exactly?” John asks, the slight slur to his words reminding him that the alcohol is still making its way out of his system. “I’m the one who’s gone round the bend, after all.”
Sherlock gently stands up and takes a plastic cup with a straw from the nightstand. “The doctor said you need to hydrate,” he says, and his voice sounds no better than John’s, rough and unsteady. 
He holds the straw to John’s mouth and John drinks greedily, grateful for the stale water that runs down his parched throat like the sweetest nectar. “For an illusion, you’re surprisingly helpful,” John says after he’s emptied the cup.
Sherlock puts the cup down on the nightstand and hovers on the side of John’s bed. He hesitates briefly, then he leans down and presses a soft kiss to John’s forehead. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, breath hitching with a muffled sob. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he mutters again and again, hands coming to rest on John’s shoulders. 
John blinks as slowly, very slowly, realisation dawns. 
Oh god.
“You-” he chokes out, throat closing up with an unnameable tangle of emotions, griefangerjoyragerelief all mingled together. “You-”
“I know, I’m sorry, there’s so much I need to tell you, I’m just so glad you’re alive,” Sherlock babbles, his lips still pressed to John’s forehead.
Anger rears its head out of the tangle and flows bitterly up John’s throat. “Get. Out,” he grates out between clenched teeth. “Get. The fuck. Out.”
Sherlock moves back. Removes his hands from John’s shoulders. He takes a step back from the bed, and he looks so - human, so - fuck, alive -
“Wait,” John chokes out, feeling the tears finally come, finally release out of his chest, that ugly ball of angerguiltgriefpain starting to soften, “Wait -”
Sherlock’s back in an instant, and John doesn’t know exactly how it’s happening, but he’s got his arms around Sherlock and Sherlock is sobbing into his shoulder and he’s sobbing into Sherlock’s chest, and they’re a mess of limbs and snot and muttered, broken words that make no sense. Sherlock climbs into bed with him, shoes and all. He’s filthy and he stinks and he’s a sniffling mess, but John wraps his arms around him and breathes in the rank smell of his hair. Slowly, his breathing calms. Sherlock rearranges them so John’s head is resting on Sherlock’s shoulder. Sherlock carefully pulls John’s arm over his chest so as to not disturb the IV line. 
“You have a lot of explaining to do,” John mutters into Sherlock’s chest, exhausted and still half-drunk and nearly delirious with relief.
“I know,” Sherlock mutters into John’s hair. “I have a lot of making up to do.”
“That too,” John slurs, already half asleep again. 
Sherlock’s fingers card through his hair, soothing and gentle. “Go to sleep, John. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Promise?”
“Swear.”
John nods against Sherlock’s chest. Sherlock’s heart is beating right beneath his ear. He can feel his ribcage move as he breathes in and out. Alive, alive, alive.
John falls asleep to that sound, knowing that things won’t be fine right away, but they will be eventually. 
Sherlock Holmes lives. Now John Watson can as well. 
Sorry this got so dark, you guys. I promise a fluff bomb tomorrow.
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theangelwithawand · 1 year ago
Text
Good Omens Incorrect Quotes Part 3:
Once again, I did not come up with these, I just have quote generator access…
Crowley : I'm having problems with a guy...
Anathema : Like his dead body won't fit into your trunk kind of problems, or you like him kind of problems?
*
Crowley : Who the fuck-
Aziraphale : Language!
Crowley : Whom the fuck-
Aziraphale : No.
*
Aziraphale and Crowley : I believe in you, Adam!
Adam, to themself: God, I must suck. The nicest thing they can think to say to me is that they don’t doubt my existence.
*
Aziraphale : There are some things beyond our understanding. We must accept them and learn from them. Because these moments of crisis are also potential moments of faith. A time, when we either come together or fall apart. Nature always has a way of balancing itself. The only question is, what part will we play?
Crowley : Did you just make that up?
Aziraphale : No. I read it in a fortune cookie once.
Crowley :
Aziraphale : A really long fortune cookie.
*
Crowley: Could you maybe just like… stab me… right in the gut. Just REALLY twist it in there. ‘Cause that honestly seems less painful than this conversation.
*
Aziraphale, texting Crowley: Text me when you’re home safely.
Crowley: I’m home dangerously.
Aziraphale: Stop it.
Crowley: I’m home lethally.
*
Gabriel : Pardon the intrusion, but-
Aziraphale or Crowley: On this moment or just my life in general?
*
Aziraphale: Why shouldn't you put a toaster in a bathtub full of water?
Crowley: Because your toast would get soggy!
*
Aziraphale: When I said bring me something back from the beach I meant like a conch shell!
Crowley: *Struggling to hold a seagull* Fucking say that next time!
*
Crowley, at Nina’s: Can I get a venti vanilla latte with um, seven espresso shots.
Mrs. Sandwich, in line behind them: Jesus Christ, just do cocaine.
*
Crowley, making coffee: This is going to fix everything.
*
Aziraphale: I have very high standards, you know.
Crowley: I can make spaghetti...
Aziraphale: Oh no! You're meeting all my standards!
*
Crowley: You can do it Adam!
Crowley: But if you can't, at least your death will be quick, painless, and really cool to watch.
*
Crowley: *standing on a balcony and sneezes*
Aziraphale: *standing on the roof* Bless you.
Crowley: God?!
*
Crowley: I'm sorry. Please talk to me.
Aziraphale:
Crowley: Hello? World's most amazing person?? Sweet pea? Precious cinnamon roll that's too good for this world, too pure?
Aziraphale: 'Sorry' doesn't bring back my fucking M&M’s.
*
Aziraphale: Is five a lot of followers?
Crowley: Depends on the context.
Crowley: On Instagram? No, not a lot of followers.
Crowley: In a dark alley? Yes, a lot of followers.
*
Crowley : You know what’s funny about Aziraphale ? They’re my best friend, and anyone who’d hurt them is someone I’d murder, probably.
*
Crowley : Are you busy?
Aziraphale : Yes.
Crowley : Cool, listen to this...
*
Aziraphale or Nina: How would you like your coffee?
Crowley: As dark as my soul.
Aziraphale or Nina: Got it, one cup of milk coming right up!
*
Crowley : I can’t believe all these people are wearing black. black is supposed to be my thing, they’re all just posers.
Aziraphale: Crowley, for the last time, we’re at a funeral.
*
Aziraphale: No more making fun of me when I misuse dated cultural references, alright? Are we cowabunga on this?
Crowley, sighing: Fine. We're cowabunga.
*
Crowley : *trying to get five seconds of sleep*
Aziraphale, poking Crowley ’s arm: Crowley Crowley . Crowley . Crowley .
Crowley : WHAT?
Aziraphale : …We’re out of Capri Suns—
*
Crowley : Valentines Day? I'm ready. *Sprays an entire can of AXE body spray on themselves*
*
Crowley : *makes Aziraphale a cup of tea but puts salt in it*
Aziraphale : *sips tea*
Crowley :
Aziraphale : *finishes tea*
Crowley : Didn't it taste bad?
Aziraphale : Yeah, but I didn't want to hurt your feelings so I drank it all.
Crowley, tearing up: Oh, okay.
*
Aziraphale : How petty can you get?
Crowley : I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.
*
Aziraphale : Crowley, I beg of you. Please, PLEASE go to the doctor.
Crowley : Hey, I'm sorry. Is this OUR stab wound?
*
Crowley, to The Squad: You should change your passwords to “incorrect”. Then, every time you forget it, the system will remind you, “your password is incorrect”.
*
Aziraphale : Not to brag, but I can go into the Spirit Halloween without crying.
*
Crowley : I wanna sleep for 40 hours.
Aziraphale : You know that's called a coma, right?
Crowley :
Crowley : That sounds so refreshing, I could totally go for a light coma right now.
*
Aziraphale : Ugh, crushes are so dumb.
Crowley : I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.
Aziraphale : But you’re always acting stupid?
Crowley : ...
Crowley : Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.
*
Muriel : Hey, aren’t you Aziraphale ?
Aziraphale : You a cop?
Muriel : No.
Aziraphale : Then yes, I am.
*
Aziraphale : Crowley ! Have you no dignity?
Crowley : Of course not! How long have we known each other?
*
Aziraphale : What are you drinking?
Crowley : Vodka.
Aziraphale : Straight?
Crowley : No, gay. Why?
*
Aziraphale : So you like cats?
Crowley : Yeah.
Aziraphale : *tries to impress them by slowly pushing a glass off the table*
*
Cop: You ran a red light.
Crowley : So did you, hypocrite.
Cop: I was following you.
Crowley : That was dumb, I'm a terrible driver.
Cop: Get out.
*
Aziraphale : What is the one thing I told you not to do?
Crowley : Burn the house down.
Aziraphale : And what did you do?
Crowley : I made dinner.
Aziraphale :
Crowley :
Aziraphale :
Crowley : And burnt the house down.
*
Aziraphale : Do you need help getting up?
Crowley : Nah, I'm cool down here on the floor.
*
Crowley : Dracula had it right, sleep all day, live alone in a castle, and explode into bats to get out of all social situations.
*
Anathema: At first I thought you were foolish and incompetent.
Crowley : My apologies for whatever misstep I may have taken to dispel that impression. It was an honest mistake, I swear.
*
Aziraphale to Crowley : Turn that frown upside-down!
*a little while later*
Aziraphale : What are you doing?
Crowley , trying to do a handstand: You told me to “turn that frown upside-down” but it’s not working .
*
Gabriel: Think you can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm?
Crowley: If you can ask the questions without the usual level of stupid.
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