#gotts learn balance

[nachtsoklein]

havin thoughts & inside me are two wolves: one acknowledges that kurt has a complicated relationship with being seen as human vs animal/beast/creature even with those he trusts most,,,,,, the second is pointing at kurt n goin "he is Nawt beating the kibby allegations" half the time

[behyunki]

🎶

"they say life is full of paradox / all you gott do is gettin' used to this marathon" WINTER FLOWER - younha ft. rm

the day his mother's broke the news that one of his grandmother's was sick, and they were moving to south korea was a day hyunki could never forget. he was only 12 when they sat himself, his twin brother, and their little sister down to explain. up until that point, they all had lived peacefully together in los angeles, one mom was creating and selling art while the other taught. they were all so settled in their neighborhood, their schools.

it didn't take hyunki long to figure out that who he was in california was not going to be the same person he presented himself to be in south korea. his korean was okay, his eomma had taught all of them since birth, with their other mom being in charge of the english. the amount of korean used around the house had increased greatly since the news a month prior. still, when he stepped into elementary school (after having started middle school already in the states) that day, with not many kids willing to speak to him or sungki. they were pushed behind a year, the school claiming it would give them time to learn the language better and play catch up with other students easier than going back into middle school.

it was so different than at home where they both had large groups of friends that intertwined and they spent all their free time with. it took weeks to really settle at the school, for those who sat around them in class to open up to them, give them a chance. some of them thought it was cool they were from california and could speak english.

everyone here was more close-minded, at least that was hyunki's opinion. a few weeks after having moved, they were in a toy store when hyunki had picked up a doll and told his mother's as he had so many times before how pretty the doll was, fingers running over its face and hair with a content smile. there was another set of parents in the aisle, who he remembered giving him a strange look before whispering between themselves. it had confused him until that night both his parents had to explain that while they lived in a very foreign friendly neighborhood in itaewon, things were different. it was his first real understanding that he was somehow very different than the other boys his age, even his own brother.

while jang hyunki was always noted as the foreign kid from california, he did settle nicely. the language barrier dropped as he began to use korean more and english less, and eventually he found a balance of what was socially acceptable here and what needed to be toned down in order for him to be safe. the move was jarring, to say the least, and not one he had expected. while this country was his eomma's home land, it didn't support the lives they had lived in america. they all had to adjust rapidly.

this was his new life, and he would just have to figure out the new normal along the way.

[perzysprumia]

ETHENA UGOCHI.

full name: ethena tyjani ugochi species: witch age: starts at 23 birthday: november 29th, 1999 zodiac: sagittarius sun, virgo moon, taurus rising gender: transgender woman pronouns: she/her sexuality: demiromantic pansexual race: black (nigerian) hair color / style: usually long dreads or braids / sometimes blonde, sometimes brown. eye color: brown height: 163cm / 5'4" traits/personality: self-sacrificing, rudely honest, curses a lot, restless, insomniac, media (tv, movies, music) obsessed, generous, expert in witchcraft/spellwork, extremely stubborn family: parents (deceased but verse dependent) brother (deceased no matter the verse) fandom: original story/lore faceclaim: jurnee smollett-bell

H I S T O R Y :

cw: child (sibling) death, mentions of demonic possession

Ethena grew up as normally as any witch could while learning control over their magic. Her parents being pillars of the magical community and leaders of the largest coven the world has ever seen, Ethena found it very difficult to balance the magical studies they forced on her along with school and a social life. She elected to give up her social life to be able to dedicate more of her time to becoming a more powerful witch, and she has been doing so since middle school.

Her reason for dedicating her life to becoming a powerful witch? When she was twelve years old, a coven of witches using demonic magic (and some possessed by demons) attempted to murder her entire family so they could channel the power of their family line and become stronger. Her younger brother had been nine at the time; the coven succeeded in killing him and channeling his power, as he was too unskilled to protect himself.

Ethena’s parents, terrified that even after defeating the demonic coven that they would come back for her, made Ethena promise to learn and practice magic as much as possible so she could better protect herself. She vowed to not only them, but herself, that she would become the most powerful witch that ever lived and also figure out why their family line is so important that it would warrant their deaths…all in honor of her brother.

Because of her studies and a general lack of interest in real life romance, Ethena has rarely gone on dates or had relationships in her life. It isn’t because she doesn’t get crushes, it’s just that she never has time, and no one can ever even live up to the expectations she has for romance in her head, anyway. She blames all the movies and TV she watches, but she also isn’t complaining, because a romance would just complicate things for her, anyway.

This doesn’t mean she has no friends, however; she has two childhood friends that have been with her since before any of them could even walk. Ethena loves them more than anything, and being separated from them because of college has shown her that she maybe needs people more than she previously thought she did.

After getting settled into university, Ethena meets a man named Terran that offers to help her learn more about magic. She is extremely wary of him at first, but she comes to learn that he is not a witch, but rather an Elemental; an immortal Earth God with powers she could only dream of having . And there are more like him, attached to all the different elements.

Terran and Ethena become very close friends, after which he informs her that he had sought her out specifically when he first met her, because she is a descendant of his first ever magical pupil – the very first and most powerful witch to ever live: Hecate. And guess what? He needs her help on some ridiculous superhero-esque mission to save the mortal world. She would have been surprised, but she’s seen far too many movies for that.

So now, Ethena knows why the demonic coven killed her brother. She is still learning more magic from Terran while navigating a world away from parents whose only aim has transformed from wanting her to protect herself, to showing her magical abilities off like a trophy; friends that have gotten so caught up in vampire boyfriends that they seem to have forgotten about her; and a coven that was like family to her.

ORIGINAL STORY / ELEMENTALS LORE :

Formed hundreds of lifetimes ago by powers unknown to humankind, the Elementals are human personifications of various elements found on earth. Their sole goal and purpose is to provide balance to the planet and rid it of violence, abominations against nature, and protect all humankind against forces that would seek to wipe them out – even if that turns out to be humankind themselves.

Elementals appear human, even down to flowing blood and a heartbeat, but they do not age and they cannot die permanently unless killed by their Opposite. (Earth and Air are Opposites, while Water and Fire are Opposites) Because being immortal is an imbalance or abomination of nature, each Elemental has an Other. Others are a special kind of doppelganger for Elementals, born within each century of existence, that serve as a vessel for the Elemental power to flow through if an Elemental is killed by their Opposite. The Other would take over the Elemental’s responsibilities and powers, but would still remain themselves; the soul of the previous Elemental is now gone forever, unless retrieved from the River of Death – but the Elementals do not know this information as of yet.

The Death Elemental, commonly known as Thanatos, underwent a great loss when he was tricked into accidentally killing his Opposite of Life. She had found that, after several thousand years of existing as a human, it was too much for her, and she no longer wished to be alive. After he lost Kijana (Life), Thanatos was so distraught that he retreated into a spiritual world of his own creation, a place the Greeks called the Underworld, and he then began to purposely create creatures such as werewolves, succubus, vampires, sirens, incubus, wendigo and many others which were abominations against nature.

Without Kijana to bring balance to his power, copious amounts of death overtook the world in the form of plagues, violence, and natural disasters, all perpetuated by these creatures of Thanatos’ own creation. Once Kijana’s Others become of age to properly take on the Elemental power, Thanatos seeks them out and kills them. Unless found early by the other Elementals and protected by them, every Other for Kijana is killed each century so that Thanatos can continue to spread violence and death throughout the world.

Over the last few centuries, Thanatos has made his creatures more and more indistinguishable from humans, and the other Elementals can feel something coming to a head. They all must set aside their differences and find out what to do about Thanatos and his perpetual state of grief, as it very well could be the slow end of humankind.

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

My best friend always makes fun of me because I would be the person to buy a fucking 9 in 1 shampoo, conditioner, body wash, toothpaste, hand soap, deodorant, drain cleaner, motor oil, and rocket fuel

[ducknotinarow]

Raphael: If you like the butterfly woman so much, why don't you just tell her directly? Stop hiding in your shell and say what you feel. [this isn't even a mean one i'm simply impatient u_u]

| harass my muse meme

"I uh I don't I mean it's not that I" he starts to stutter and mutter tripping over his words as he tries to process the question just aimed his way. "It's just..I just got my friend back and well I don't have a lot of those? I've only ever had my family and I know how special that is not to mention everything they need from me. I know Leos in charge now sure but he still needs me too." The snapper thought it over as he quirked his beak a little in thought about what he was saying that sounded like an excuse when he thought it over more in-depth. Soon he sighs out thinking a bit more, eyes shut as his brow knots up. "I don't wanna lose her again and knowin' that I got all these feelings for Yvonne? what if I do?" eyes open now that he got the truth out of him. "I mean what do I even got to offer her? I'm a giant mutant turtle that lives in the sewers! for one." holding up a finger as he explains "two Yvonne came from this big luxury life gal got this expensive taste..I don't think I quite fit into that all." His bottom lips hang and his mouth soon tugs into a frown. "Three I ain't all that bright or smart even. I'm kind of big olf too. Yvonne should have someone who." He thinks what dose she deserves?

"Well someone who cares about her, who can see past her looks. Shes beautiful those deep purple eyes, her wings the way she laughs, the funny words she says in a made-up language." It wasn't made up it was slang he didn't know but it sounded made up. "I mean it makes sense why she was a model before. She works hard, even after getting mutated she tried to get back on her feet." HE smiles softly "She may be this small butterfly but she's tough. I don't think many who yelled at me got me feelin' so off the balance before like she did that time." He chuckles a bit well pushing that away he rather not recall when she called him a freak. Going back to his main point "She should be with someone who sees past her looks and her like for her looks. Who can look at her and see all the great stuff bout her and loves it all. Who would do anything they could for her, no matter what it is. Rather it's telling her she looks nice that day or just listening to her problems. Yvonne is great and she should be with someone who wants to know all that and wanna learn more bout her too! I want to so that has to be others.." He pauses.

If thats what she should have and it's what he wants to be? then can't Raph maybe?

"Know what! you're right. Why can't I tell her I like her? I like her a lot and I wanna know her more. Maybe I am just some trash turtle but I'm Raphael Hamato! I gotts go!"

[ficcrimes]

vestigial

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Angel Dust, (trans) male OC A/N: a little self-indulgent something for myself between commissions. Warnings: NSFW Summary: even when he was alive, Moth had never had one of those before. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As hard as he tried to understand, there was no wrapping his head around how a one-night stand had turned into this. Not that he was complaining, but it was worth wondering why someone like Angel Dust had taken to him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t turned Angel down when he came onto him that first time. Maybe it was because Moth was just as easy as he was. 

Really, though, the reason didn’t matter. What mattered right now was the way two hands grabbed his shoulders, and a third held his chin. Angel was much, much taller than he was, and so the spider had to bend forward considerably to kiss where his mouth should have been. Though he had thought lacking a mouth would deter Angel some, Moth had been pleasantly surprised to find it didn’t seem to matter. 

“You got hands and other holes, don’tcha?” Angel had teased during their first time. “This way, the only mouth you gotta worry about is mine.” 

And Moth had learned very quickly that that mouth was indeed worth worrying about. 

For the time being, though, he did his best to return the kiss and leaned forward, pressing himself to Angel’s lips. It didn’t take long at all for the kiss to become a little more heated, and the hand that had been holding his chin moved down his neck, and into the thick black ring of fluff at the base of it. Angel’s fingers combed through it for a moment, before they travelled lower still. Palm pressed to the moth’s flat chest, he pulled away from the kiss. 

Angel grinned, and Moth didn’t quite have time to question it before he was suddenly being shoved down onto the bed. The most surprising thing of the moment was that he hadn’t ended up on his back, but sitting instead - and Angel had intended it that way. 

He made a move to get up again, or at least reach for Angel now that their contact had been broken, but Angel stepped out of reach. 

“Ah, ah,” he tutted with a grin, wagging a finger at Moth. “You sit and wait there. I got something for ya.” 

Moth’s brow furrowed as he watched Angel move further away, over to a box that had been stored in the corner of the room. Moth’s view of the box’s contents was obscured by Angel himself as he gathered what he needed from it. It didn’t take the spider long all before he came back over to the bed, two hands behind his back. When Moth tried to peer around him, another set of hands found his shoulders again and held him still. 

“Patience is a virtue,” Angel snorted with a little roll of his eyes, shoulders shrugging. “Or some shit.” They wouldn’t have been in Hell had they been virtuous, would they? Now wasn’t the time to think too hard on that, though, and Angel finally revealed what he’d been hiding behind his back. 

Now hovering just inches from Moth’s face was a harness and a deep red dildo. The moth stared at these items for a few long moments before a blush crept across the bridge of his nose. His gaze moved upward to Angel’s face, and he wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the sharp and sultry grin there. 

“For me?” Moth asked quietly, voice barely a whisper in Angel’s mind. 

“All for you,” Angel assured, getting down onto his knees. He reached for Moth’s hips with his two free hands, and tugged the smaller body forward until he was just barely balanced on the edge of the bed. Shamelessly, he pressed the dildo to Moth’s crotch, and then guided one of the Moth’s four hands to it.

“Hold it,” he instructed, and Moth gave a little nod, holding the toy in place against his body. Looking down at it, he couldn’t help but notice just how dangerously close in color it was to his hands. Angel had put some thought into this, and that made his blush deepen. It also made the ache between his legs worsen, and he did his best not to fidget or fuss too much. 

Angel gave one thigh a little pat, and Moth obediently lifted that leg, toes pointed so Angel could start working the harness onto him. The other leg followed suit moments later, and soon enough Angel was sliding the harness up over his knees. When he had to, Moth finally stood up, still holding the red dick firmly in place while Angel’s hands shimmied the harness up his thighs. The toy was worked through the hole of the harness, and Moth didn’t have to hold onto it any longer, but his hands still lingered close by. Old habits die hard, and a part of him wanted to hide it, but mostly he just wanted to keep touching it. 

He was quiet while Angel adjusted the straps, making sure the whole contraption fit snuggly, though he did little to even try and stifle his ragged and eager breathing. 

Once everything was secured, Angel sat back on his knees to take a good look at the other. Two of moth’s hands were still hovering close by the dildo, as though unsure what he should have been doing with it. It made Angel laugh, just a little. 

“You can touch it,” he goaded, grinning. “In fact, why don’t you stroke it a little for me?” 

Moth gave a little mental whimper in response to those words alone, and gingerly ran one hand over the length of the toy. Once he reached the base of it, he wrapped his fingers around it and gave it a little squeeze. Then, as Angel had suggested, it slid his hand up and down the rubbery length. 

By now, his thighs were trembling, and his legs desperately wanted to close. The harness was crotchless, and so there was no pressure where he really needed it most right now. 

“There you go,” Angel encouraged, and Moth’s gaze flitted away from the dick in his hand and back to the spider’s face. “How’s that feel?” 

“G-Good,” Moth replied quietly, unable to suppress a shiver. Even in life, he had never worn something like this, never had a chance to experience the deep sensation of such an affirming gesture. And the fact Angel had gone ahead and thought of this for him made it all the better. 

“Good,” Angel practically purred, and reached up to take hold of Moth’s hips with two hands. A third hard slid up the inside of one thigh, fingers stroking leather and lip. Even such a small touch was enough to make Moth whimper again, and his hand squeezed the toy tightly. 

“Poor baby, you’re all worked up,” Angel said, and a fourth hand slid back and around Moth, groping at his ass. Moth gave a squeak, nodding as he did his best to maintain eye contact. A feat that was much easier said than done, especially when Angel finally asked, 

“You want me to suck your dick?” 

Again, with words alone Angel was able to make Moth whimper, and he gave an eager nod. 

Angel grinned again, and without another word leaned in to first press a kiss to the tip of the toy. Then, he effortlessly was able to take the length into his mouth. Moth watched in nothing short of fascination as lips and tongue and teeth slid over red rubber a few times before Angel pulled away, tongue flicking the tip as he did. Moth didn’t have a chance to wonder if that was it, Angel was quick to push him back onto the bed, making him sit at the edge again. This time, he made sure to force Moth’s legs open and slide himself between them so they couldn’t close. The hand that was still between Moth’s legs moved, and the fingers that had been teasing him finally found their way inside. 

Moth used two of his own hands to keep himself balanced, and a third found its way to Angel’s hair, combing through and then gently tugging. His hips rocked and his back arched, and it took everything in him not to squeeze his eyes shut right now. He wanted to see Angel take that dick back into his mouth again. And when he did, he finally let a loud groan sound in Angel’s head, breathy and desperate. 

The fingers that were working in and out of him started to move faster, drive in deeper, curl just right, and soon enough Moth’s entire body was tense and trembling. Between what was going on inside of him and just watching the way Angel sucked his dick was enough to drive him close to the edge. 

And Angel could tell. Of course he could. So his hand and mouth switched places in due time. Now Moth was watching that pink fist slide up and down the slicked red dick, and tongue and teeth were moving between his legs. The hand in Angel’s hair tugged harder than he had before, and he did his best to close his legs around the demon between them, holding him in place. He rocked his hips with more vigor, practically grinding himself against Angel’s expert mouth.

It didn’t take much longer at all for Moth to finish, and he moaned Angel’s name loudly and shamelessly into the spider’s mind. His hips jerked hard a few times as he rode it out, and then slowly he relaxed onto the bed, his grip on Angel’s hair loosening. He let his hand fall away entirely once Angel moved out from between his legs, and did his best to catch his breath. 

“Fuck,” Moth mumbled, running one of his hands over his face and then through his hair. He heard Angel chuckle to himself.

“I had a feelin’ you’d enjoy that,” Angel said, grinning as he crawled up onto the bed, then laid out next to Moth. “I meant it, you know. You can keep the dick.”

“I can?” Moth asked, looking over toward Angel, still laying flat on his back. 

Angel waved one hand as he spoke. “I got plenty. And that one suits you.” 

Moth couldn’t help but laugh a little, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at the toy still strapped to him. It did feel nice to have it, and he supposed Angel was right; it did seem to suit the color scheme of his demon body. He appreciated it. 

“Thanks,” he said after a moment, and he would have smiled just a little if he could have. 

There was a feeling in the air that Angel wasn’t about to let himself fall to, and so he let himself grin again, twisting onto his side and propping his chin up in one palm. “Don’t thank me yet, Sweetheart,” he said, using another hand to drag one nail gently up over one gray thigh and hip. “We still gotta see how well you fuck with that thing on.”

[nitewrighter]

Breach Pt. IV

Previous Parts: 1, 2, 3

In Which We’re Really Glad Hanzo’s So Good At Murdering and Aedan and Rei talk a lot.

---

Night had fallen on the Urdr Lab facility. Two talon guards walked the outer perimeter, calmly chatting.

“Everything’s sequels and reboots these days. It’s bullshit,” said Talon Enforcer 3939 Callsign ‘Tyrian.’ 

“Woah, someone’s bitter,” said Talon Trooper 4783 Callsign ‘Rosso,’ “I dunno--I’d still want to see it.”

“Look, nothing’s going to top the original run---Mid-crisis, shoestring budget, skeleton film crew--Old school Midori Rider had heart. It meant something to try and tell a story like that when the world was going to shit. It’s just a cash grab at this point,” said Tyrian.

“But girl Midori Rider though---That’s interesting. We’re kind of due for it, you know?” said Rosso.

“They want to make a female-led Sentai show they’re welcome to it, they don’t need to dry-hump Midori Rider to do it. It’s just Glitchbot struggling to stay relevant,” said Tyrian. 

“See I think it would be cool to get kids into the show, then they could get into the older versions and--” Rosso stopped suddenly, “Did you hear something?”

“Maaaybe it’s the faaaairiiiies,” said Tyrian with a snicker.

“Come off it---” said Rosso.

“You know that’s how Talon got this land so cheap, right?” said Tyrian, “None of the locals wanted to build here and---”

“Tyr--hold up,” Rosso brought a hand to the side of his helmet, “Lilla--have you seen any movement in the western quadrant?” There was only dead air on the other end. “Huh...” Rosso brought his hand away from his helmet, “Must be on break?”

Tyrian shrugged.  “Anyway,” Tyrian went on, “None of the locals wanted to build here because apparently this was ‘fairy land’ and that’s how you end up with prime geothermal real estate so---” 

An arrow suddenly pierced through Tyrian’s neck.

“What the---” it took Rosso a half-beat to register that Tyrian was gurgling and bleeding out, “Shit---” He tried to put pressure to the wound but was struggling to try and get past Tyrian’s armor without disturbing the arrow and making it worse, “Shit--” Rosso brought a hand to the side of his helmet, “Requesting back---”

A second arrow pierced through his hand, and then his helmet, the plating of both stopping the arrow as its point barely kissed his temple, the comm in his helmet had cut out from the damage of the arrow. He was screaming before a second arrow pierced them through the side and he fell to the ground, groaning, one hand pierced through and pinned to the side of their helmet. “Shit--” he was dragging himself with one arm over to Tyrian. He could activate Tyrian’s comm. Request backup. Tyrian was gone at this point, he knew that much. Rosso stretched one hand toward Tyrian’s helmet, the blood pooling between both of them, when a foot came down and stepped on his hand. The pain of having his hand crushed against the walkway was all but an afterthought compared to the arrow in his side, but Rosso craned his neck up to see a graying-haired figure standing over him. A man with a bow. 

“You--” Rosso started before another arrow split through his helmet.

Hanzo regarded the two talon guards’ corpses with a grim indifference before bringing before opening his comm. “You have your opening,” said Hanzo, “Move in now.”

“Roger!” D.Va spoke over the comm lines.

Hanzo pulled a small glowing purple translocator from his quiver and dropped it on the ground. In a flash of violet, Sombra appeared out of the translocator and instantly edged her feet away from the pooling blood. 

“Yikes...” she muttered, “Remind me to stay on your good side.”

“They have my niece,” said Hanzo, already moving forward, “The Shimada Clan would never let such a slight go unanswered. Now, if you would...”

“Gotcha,” Sombra walked across the walkway with Hanzo keeping a sharp eye out before Sombra reached a door panel, “Oh Talon networks,” she said a bit  wistfully, cracking her knuckles and bringing up a purple screen, “It’s been too long.”

“Can you hack it?” said Hanzo, frowning. 

“You know who you’re talking to, right?” said Sombra, opening up a purple screen, “Now, let’s see what we can learn...”

Hanzo heard a grunt behind him, and turned around to help Genji up onto the walkway from where he had scaled the wall.

“A lot slower than usual,” said Hanzo.

“I’ll be fine,” said Genji, circling his prosthetic arm in its socket as Mercy flew in alongside him.

“Accessing and shutting down surveillance,” said Sombra.

“Wait--” Genji walked up alongside her, “Do you see Rei anywhere?”

“Haven’t seen her yet,” murmured Sombra, scrolling through various surveillance feeds of the facility, “But it’s a big facility with a lot of---” Sombra cut herself off, then opened up a second screen. The surveillance feed on her first window had gone black, and the second screen she brought up featured a rough schematic of the facility, with a bright yellow dot just a ways off-center in it. Sombra looked between her two screens. “Wherever they’re keeping her, they’ve got the cameras off for some reason,” said Sombra.

“Mein gott--what are they doing to her!?” said Mercy, running a hand through her hair in distress.

---

“...A rescue,” said Aedan, picking up the talon assassin armor next to her, “This is a rescue. I’m...” he cleared his throat a bit awkwardly, “I’m... rescuing you.”

Rei looked at him skeptically as she rose up to a more balanced sitting-up position on the stretcher.

“I know the facility,” Aedan went on, “And I have a plan.”

“And I should trust you because...?” Rei started tying her hair back with the ribbon.

“Because it’s your only option---I mean, you could try pulling what you did yesterday--running around aimlessly through Urdr and getting nowhere before the guards tranq you again, or,” he held the assassin armor out to her, “You can put this on, follow my lead, and actually have a chance.”

“And how am I supposed to know you aren’t working with Moira?” said Rei, fastening her necklace around her neck, “That this isn’t some... sick game where I’m one of her little lab rats?”

“Rabbits,” said Aedan.

“What?” 

“We use rabbits, not--I’m getting off-point. Just---” Aedan huffed, “You don’t. You don’t know if you can trust me. And that’s fair. I just...” He brought the assassin armor up a bit more insistently, “Please let me help you.”

Rei’s eyes flicked down to the assassin armor, then up to him. Hesitantly, her movements still sluggish from all the sedatives, she took the armor.

“Why are you doing this?” said Rei.

They were going to obliterate your mind, and if they couldn’t do that they were going to cut you open over and over again and every time I thought of that it made me want to throw up, the words ran through Aedan’s mind but he couldn’t say that. He looked down. “Talon...” he said slowly, “It... wants to make a world where people aren’t held back by fear and old ideas. But if it has to brainwash people to do it... that... sort of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

“Brainwash--?” Rei’s eyes widened and then she dropped the assassin armor into her lap, pressing her hands to the sides of her head, “What did they--Is that why they---!? They’re going to--?!”

So much for not making her panic, thought Aedan. “They weren’t able to do anything yet,” said Aedan, putting a hand on her shoulder but she flinched at his touch and he quickly withdrew his hand.

“How do you know!? I can barely remember anything since London!” Rei was practically hyperventilating at this point.

“They tried. Your... dragon... took a labtech’s hand off,” said Aedan.

Rei stared at him for several seconds, her eyes still wide with panic. “It can do that?!” she blurted out.

Really not as much of a weapon as Mum said, are you? thought Aedan, before saying, “I don’t know! It’s your dragon...thing! Shouldn’t you know what it does?” 

“I thought it just healed!” said Rei. 

“Well congratulations. You can also take hands off,” said Aedan, “Now we don’t have a lot of time. Can you please put this assassin uniform on?” 

Rei bit the inside of her lip, then set the armor next to her swung her legs over the edge of the stretcher.

“Easy--” Aedan held a hand out to her, “It’s been a while since you’ve been on your feet.”

She braced her forearm against his with one arm, then pushed off of the stretcher with the other. Her legs turned to jelly beneath her only momentarily, a brief stumble before she put her free hand against his shoulder to stabilize herself, before rising a bit shakily to two feet. 

“Can you stand?” said Aedan.

Rei nodded and they broke apart. Rei turned around and unfolded the talon armor from its place on the stretcher. Mindlessly, she undid one of the fasteners at the shoulder of her hospital gown, then stopped and looked over her shoulder at him.

“Do you mind?” she said, furrowing her brow.

“No,” Aedan shrugged, then immediately caught himself, “Oh! You’re getting--right--I’m just---right, I should... get to...” he pointed at one of the lab monitors over his shoulder, “Important... rescue... things.”

“Important rescue things,” Rei muttered as Aedan turned around and walked over to the lab monitor.  “So... what is this place?” asked Rei, as Aedan tapped away at the keyboard, reviewing the various security footage of the facility.

“These are the Urdr Labs. Talon’s Iceland-based R&D facility,” said Aedan, clicking through various cameras of the facility. 

“Iceland?!” said Rei, “How long have I been here?”

Aedan counted on his fingers, “You got here around 3 AM the night before last. You’ve been here two days.”

“Feels like longer,” said Rei.

“That would be the drugs,” said Aedan, “How’s the armor?”

“...complicated,” said Rei.

“Well don’t put the gauntlets on until last. Also you need to detach the breastplate from the abdominal lames, then reattach them once the lames are around your--” Aedan looked over his shoulder mindlessly then went beet red and quickly fixed his attention back on the monitor screen. He hadn’t really seen anything. A section of her back, maybe some Pachimari-printed panties at most. But he rubbed his forehead. This whole rescue ordeal was murder on his nerves. “Once they’re around your waist,” he said, clearing his throat. 

“Is it supposed to be this tight across the ass?” muttered Rei.

“There’s a panel at the center of the belt that adjusts the waistband,” said Aedan, “Sorry... I just went by your height. They didn’t record...the other.. measurements.”

“Didn’t even get me a bra. Grabbed the hair ribbon... but the bra? Nope,” Rei was muttering under her breath.

“It didn’t... feel appropriate,” said Aedan, “It’s fine though the armor is um... it’s... supportive?”

He could feel her shooting a glare at the back of his head from across the room before she sighed and resumed fiddling around with the complicated plates of the armor.

“Are we safe here?” said Rei, looking around the lab.

“We have maybe a few more minutes at best,” said Aedan, looking through the lab footage, “I managed to put a handful of security cameras on a loop, so it should be a while before they notice you’re gone.”

“How do you know no one else is going to walk in?” asked Rei.

“This is my lab,” said Aedan a bit proudly.

Rei’s eyes trailed along the nanite amalgams in their glass tubes and tanks all along the walls. “...kind of creepy,” she said quietly.

“Wh--I’ll have you know I do very important work here!” said Aedan, whirling around, nearly stopping himself, but then finding she had the armor mostly on at this point, “Oh--here---” He got up and hurried over, helping with the last few armor latches up her back. Rei would have flinched back at his touch, but she seemed distracted by the swirling black shapes within the glass. 

“What are these things?” she asked as he got the last latch at the back of her neck secured. She broke away from him and bent over, squinting at one, “Are these... Reaper?” she said quietly. She looked over her shoulder at him, her face lit up eerily yellow by the biotic plasma the nanite amalgam was suspended in, “Are they.... you?”

“In another life, I suppose,” said Aedan with a shrug.

Rei gave him a sidelong glance. 

“Nanite amalgams,” said Aedan, “They’re masses of cells. Some organic, some not. Some derived and replicated from me, some from Reyes. We should get those gauntlets on before---” 

“Incoming call from Facility Residence C,” the computer’s AI spoke.

“...Shit,” said Aedan. He looked at Rei. “Down!” he hissed, “Get down, now!” Rei dropped to the floor, out of sight of the monitor, Aedan put a finger to his lips to signal her to be silent.

“Patching through---” said the AI as Moira appeared on the screen and Aedan attempted to compose his appearance. She looked exhausted.

“Aedan?” said Moira, “Are you there?”

“Yes! Yes I’m here,” said Aedan, attempting to look as calm as possible, “Couldn’t sleep. Decided to get some work done. You know how it is.”

A weary smile tugged at the corner of Moira’s mouth. “Leave a note next time, will you?”

“Oh---a note. Of course. I figured I’d be back before you woke up, so...” he trailed off, “I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“I’m sorry this whole situation has you so out of sorts, a thaisce,” said Moira, “The environment here is... different from Oasis, I’ll admit, but you’ve been doing brilliantly in adjusting.” 

“Well... adaptation is the basis of survival, isn’t it?” said Aedan with a slight smile. He gave a short glance down to Rei, huddled at his feet, glaring up at him and making ‘wrap it up’ gestures.

“You should get back to sleep, Mum,” said Aedan, his eyes quickly flicking back to Moira, “I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t worry about me, a thaisce, I’ll be---” the image on the screen of Moira suddenly distorted, then she paused and blinked, “Did it just---” The image distorted again, “--for you too?”

“Yeah it’s--” Aedan started and the image distorted.

“There’s something wrong--Can you--” The image distorted, “--you hear me, Aedan? Can you--?” the feed cut altogether.

“Something’s wrong,” said Aedan as Rei braced a hand on the monitor’s desk and rose to her feet, apparently swaying from the head rush.

“Easy--” said Aedan.

“So comms are down?” said Rei.

“Comms don’t just ‘go down’ for Talon, and I’m not doing this,” said Aedan, “If we’re under attack, Talon’s going to lock down everything--The airfield, the gates, the---” He stopped himself and took a steadying breath, “It’s okay. This is okay. I can figure this out.” His mouth drew to a thin line, “We can’t stay here,” he said, “We can take advantage of the scrambled comms and still get to a dropship.”

“What if it’s Overwatch?!” Rei’s face lit up.

“Would they know where you are?” said Aedan, “Are you chipped?”

“What, like a dog? Gross! No!” said Rei, putting on the Talon assassin’s helmet and having the red plate come down over her face. The eyes in the visor glinted orange as it activated. “I mean... I’m pretty sure they’d ask me if they did something like that.”

“So we can assume we’re on our own. We don’t know if the attack is on the facility itself or remotely, but either way, we can’t stay here” He handed the assassin’s gauntlets over to Rei.  “Put these on and uh... keep your hands pointed away from your face.”

Rei clicked on the gauntlets, “Why do I need to keep them pointed away from my--” A massive scarlet blade suddenly jutted out of the gauntlet, missing Aedan’s head by inches.

“...that’s why,” said Aedan.

The orange eyes of her faceplate glinted in some surprise.

“They’re retractable,” said Aedan, “Just... touch your thumb to your ring finger--”

Rei complied and the blade shot back in. With that she got the other gauntlet on. 

“Index finger extends, ring finger retracts. All right, now for the really stupid part,” said Aedan, turning back to the monitor.

“I don’t know if I like the sound of the ‘really stupid part,’” said Rei.

“We need a big enough disruption in the facility so that no one will notice a dropship leaving,” said Aedan, clicking through several programs detailing the current status of the nanite amalgams.

Command: Purge in T minus 15 minutes

A window popped up on the screen.

Readings still show Nanite Amalgams not in alternate containment. Override? Y/N

Y, Aedan typed.

Enter override code.

ashes2ashes, Aedan typed.

Accepted.

Aedan heard a snort behind him and gave a slight start how close Rei was to him.

“Ashes2ashes?” Rei said, “You’re all really... ‘None More Goth’ here at Talon, huh?”

Aedan chuckled. “We should get going,” he said, glancing at the counter that had appeared on the monitor, “Fifteen minutes and this place is going to get ugly.”

Aedan opened the door into the hall and looked around. No guards, no labtechs. He put on the labtech mask, goggles, and surgical cap once more, motioned to Rei, and together they headed down the hall. It was odd, seeing someone in full Talon assassin garb walking... like a normal person. Most Talon assassins moved like animals, to him, something alien, between feline, avian, and reptilian. The way Rei carried herself was... well... it was Rei. Their pace was brisk but if they broke out into full-on sprints, they risked drawing more attention to themselves. Rei was still a bit imbalanced from the drugs, able to walk, but looking around vaguely, sometimes her steps meandering away from him, sometimes bumping her shoulder into his, then she’d quickly resume her course as best she could. Aedan could feel his stomach knotting up with stress. They just had to get to Urdr’s airfield, type in the preset coordinates to Reykjavik, say their goodbyes, and that was it. Then “Whoops, there was an accident in my lab--what do you mean the ninja girl escaped?” and this whole thing could be put behind him.

You can’t just do something like this, One of the nagging, nattering voices in his head spoke up, You can’t just pick and choose what parts of Talon you’re going along with, and what parts you won’t, and you know it. This isn’t taking a joyride with Seye on one of the hover dollies, this is actively undermining--no, betraying, Talon. And for what?

Aedan looked over at Rei, her face hidden by the assassin’s helmet.

For what?

She’s a weapon. You’re literally handing a weapon right back to Overwatch. You’re going to have to face her one day---the two of you are going to be on opposite sides of a battlefield because you couldn’t do what had to be done tod---

“Can I ask you something?” said Rei, snapping Aedan out of his thoughts.

“Shoot,” said Aedan with a shrug, thankful there was something to interrupt the train of anxiety.

“What was your mother saying back there—the thing that kind of sounded like sneezing?” asked Rei.

Right, she’s still a bit out of it, thought Aedan. “What?” said Aedan.

“A-hesh-keh,” said Rei.

“A thaisce?” suggested Aedan.

“Yeah, that,” said Rei.

“Oh—“ Aedan reddened a little, “She just… that’s… just what she calls me…” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Irish, right?” said Rei, “What does it mean?”

Aedan felt his own face burning and then folded his arms, “It… means ‘My treasure,’” he said, figuring there was no use in lying about it.

He expected her to snicker or tease or worse at that, but she didn’t. The eyes of the assassin’s faceplate just gleamed a little. A smile? “Hey,” she said, pointing a thumb at herself, “Sunshine--Well... ‘Sunneschii.’ You’re not the only one who still has a baby nickname.”

“Of course you’re ‘sunshine,’” said Aedan, quietly, smiling a little beneath the Labtech mask.

 “Moira…She loves you, doesn’t she?” said Rei, “Like… actually loves you.”

“Wh—Of course she loves me, she’s my mother!” said Aedan, “I mean… sure, I wasn’t… born like you but…” Aedan didn’t really know how to finish that sentence.

“...so my mom was right,” Rei said quietly, “Moira didn’t have you... she made you.”

Aedan was silent for a few seconds, then straightened his shoulders and forced a grin. “Well of course,” he said, gesturing at himself with a faux-grandiloquence, “Designer.”

Rei looked at him a blankly.

“Designer... genes...” Aedan said a bit weakly.

“Are you... okay?” Rei tilted her head at him.

“Fine, just...” Aedan made a waving gesture next to his head, “Trying to figure things out. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Rei extended a hand and touched his arm. He looked from her hand, to her. Her expression, naturally, was unreadable with the red faceplate of a Talon assassin, but somehow there was something steady in the orange glint of her visor.

“...Thank you,” she said after a beat, “I... I still don’t know if this is all some sick game on Moira’s end but... if it isn’t... you’re risking a lot. So thank you.”

“Not that your skepticism isn’t fully justified but... what’s it going to take for you to see this isn’t some sick game on my mum’s end?” said Aedan.

“Getting back to Gibraltar,” said Rei.

“...Fair,” said Aedan, “I’ll do my best to get you there, then.”

The lights suddenly dimmed and an alarm started blaring.

“This is the stupid part of the plan, right?” said Rei, looking at Aedan.

Aedan checked the timer on his comm. “...nnno,” he said slowly, “It’s about 8 minutes too early for the stupid part.”

“Oh...” said Rei, “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

“We’ve been in trouble, but now we’re in more trouble, yes,” said Aedan.

[imgonnafeedyou]

T: Chicken, Sausage & Shrimp Jambalaya

https://louisiana.kitchenandculture.com/recipes/virginia-willis-seafood-and-chicken-jambalaya

Modifications: I deglazed the pan with white wine, used bone-in chicken thighs, and doubled the quantity of veggies, garlic, and creole seasoning. Don’t be fooled by the soupy look of this pic - it was GREAT!

I have a number of friends who are obsessed with New Orleans. One of them hosts a July 4th party every year. His 4-story townhouse with a back porch is perfect for exploring and enjoying the summer sun, and the roof is perfect for seeing no less than three different sets of fireworks across the city. Food, drink, and entertainment - the guests are mostly comedians - are in abundance. But the piece de resistance is his Jambalaya. He spends hours leading up to this party painstakingly and lovingly crafting a regular and vegetarian jambalaya for his guests. Somewhere around day 30 of quarantine, I was antsy and craving something both comforting and new. I also happen to have some of the “holy trinity” veggies (onions, bell peppers, celery - I learned this from Emeril Lagasse) lying around from other recipes. So after much searching I found a recipe that was relatively straightforward. I don’t know much about Virginia Willis, but she has quite the pedigree so it was easy to trust her. It obviously didn’t measure up to my friend’s, but it was solid. I deglazed with my favorite white wine to cook and drink with (Joel Gott Sauvignon Blanc, recommended by one of my favorite comediennes Nicole Byer) I ended up doubling the veggies just because, and maybe didn’t add enough extra liquid to balance it out so the rice came out a little al dente, but I’m not mad. Plus oven cooked rice is just weird no matter what. Due to the pandemic-related phenomenon of grocery store being out of random things, I used bone-in skin-on chicken thighs instead of boneless skinless - I (well, my boyfriend) deboned the chicken after the first round of oven cooking but we left the skins on and I think it added some extra flavor and fat. They didn’t have Andouille sausage so I just got a smoked beef sausage. To account for the regular sausage, extra veggies, and my general personality, I doubled both the garlic and creole spice. All in all, this was a keeper- very simple ingredients and cooking procedure, and a delicious comforting final product. 

Oh, and the aforementioned friend has a great homemade hot sauce business. They are excellent and made with just as much love as his jambalaya! Follow Trust the Sauces here.

[moviessilently]

Mary Pickford plays an Italian woman whose brothers have gone off to fight in World War One. Alone and worries, she discovers a sailor washed up on the shore. He tells her that he is an American and they secretly marry but is her husband really who he claims to be?

Home Media Availability: Released on DVD.

Italian dressing.

After co-founding United Artists, the rest of Mary Pickford’s silent career was a balancing act between the child roles and whimsy that her fans had come to love and the heavier, more artistically satisfying parts that Pickford craved.

The Love Light came on the heels of Pollyanna and Suds, the former being a famously sugary child role and the latter a slapstick-and-pathos story of a laundress in love. The Love Light was meant to give Pickford some heavier drama and it was directed by her best friend, noted screenwriter Frances Marion. (By the way, Marion later recalled that both she and Pickford found Pollyanna “nauseating” so a change of pace was needed all around.)

Pickford back in spunky mode.

The Love Light is the story of Angela (Pickford), a young Italian woman whose family operates the local lighthouse. She lives with her two brothers and is being courted by Giovanni (Raymond Bloomer). Of course, the Great War breaks out and her brothers go to fight, as does Giovanni. One brother is killed immediately and Angela waits alone for news of her other loved ones.

One night, Angela finds a man (Fred Thomson, Mr. Frances Marion) washed up on the shore. He says that his name is Joseph and he is an American deserter. Angela feels sorry for him and hides him in her cellar. Naturally, they fall in love and are secretly married. Also, Angela finds out that Germans engrave “Gott mit uns” on just everything. (This coarse exposition is in no way foreshadowing, nope, nope, nope.)

And all I ever find on the beach is a shell or two.

Joseph does have one odd request of his wife: he wants her to give him a “love signal” from the lighthouse at precisely midnight. Angela obeys and, would you believe it, an Italian ship is sunk at precisely that time.

So then Joseph is like, “It’s been real but I have to get back to America, toots.” Angela goes to the village to steal chocolate for him and is nearly caught. When she returns, she finds him asleep in the cellar. She leans closer and…

So THIS is why he kept ordering extra sauerkraut.

In his sleep, Joseph mumbles three words: Gott mit uns.

Sigh. Really, movie? Really? The reveal is silly as silly as an Englishman saying “God save the King!” or an American saying “I pledge allegiance to the flag…” in their sleep. And coming so conveniently on the heels of Angela learning the phrase, it feels artificial and forced.

So, congratulations, Angela. You have married a German spy. And she also discovers that her beloved baby brother was on that ship that was destroyed the night before. Da da DUM!

Angela has some ‘splaining to do.

What will Angela do? Will she give hubby the heave-ho? Watch The Love Light to find out.

Spoiler Because This Really Bugs Me: So, Angela makes her choice and turns her husband over to the villagers, Joseph dies trying to escape, now we just need Giovanni to come home and… What? There’s another half hour remaining? Oh good lord. Basically, we get reel after reel of, “Golly, war sure is awful, isn’t it?” Also, snotty nuns will take your child because they think you’re crazy and will give the infant to a totally random OTHER crazy lady. Yay?

Um, thanks? Signed, Italians

In its review of the picture, Photoplay Magazine stated that “the story is developed without reasonable logic” and I have to agree. Pickford is delightful, especially in the earlier lightweight scenes, but the film jumps around from genre to genre and plot thread to plot thread without sufficiently setting itself up for the transition. Instead, it relies on cheats and old propaganda tricks that were as stale in the 1920s as they are now.

Both silent films and black and white films deserve to be treated as works of art in their own right. Neither sound nor color are missing. That being said, I do get annoyed when the lack of color or sound are used to cheat the viewer of information they could use to solve the mystery.

Don’t mention the war!

For example, the 1947 Bogart and Bacall vehicle Dark Passage hinges on a character adoring the color orange and even having a car in that dramatic shade. Of course, since the film is black and white, we never recognize that distinct car and so the big reveal feels cheap.

The same is the case with The Love Light. To explain his accent, Joseph claims to be an American and Angela believes him. All well and good but we in the audience are denied hearing whether his accent is American or German and so the eventual reveal that he is a German spy feels just as cheap as the Dark Passage finale.

Methinks Gott was not mit anyone during the Great War.

Another problem with the film is that it’s still in Great War Hate the Hun mode when the movies had pretty much moved on. In his review, Carl Sandburg wrote: “It almost looks as though the play was written during the war to be show in Italy to keep alive interest in the war.” The Four Horseman of the Apocalypse, which opened two months after The Love Light, showed the way forward for Great War pictures with its themes of divided families, honor and, of course, a some very hot tangos.

(I know that none of you will have trouble with this distinction but for the Hollywood screenwriters who do not seem to understand this: There were no Nazis in the First World War!)

Some patented Pickford shenanigans.

It seems obvious that Frances Marion was stretched too thin by the project. She had written great screenplays before and she would write great screenplays again but the combined task of writing and directing, plus all the personal baggage that came with a cast full of her nearest and dearest, seems to have been too much. Ironically, Marion fares better as a director than a screenwriter in this picture.

As stated above, Pickford is delightful when she engages in slapstick early in the picture. One of the best and most underrated comediennes in film, Pickford capers and prances and tries to beat up her brothers in the best comedy tradition. She does her best with the later dramatic scenes but the setups are so silly that she is undermined. (Of course, Pickford was the producer, so she also shoulders responsibility for the film’s failures.)

Wounded soldier? Meh. Wounded soldier she knows? TRAGEDY!

Further, Angela is not a particularly appealing heroine on paper because she only acts if something affects her personally. She only turns in Joseph upon realizing that he was directly responsible for her brother’s death, she only takes action to save a storm-battered ship when she realizes her baby is aboard. Any charm in the character is due to Pickford’s talents as an actress.

On the plus side, Henry Cronjager and Charles Rosher’s camera work is absolutely gorgeous. Dramatic shots of storms and boats and fires and silhouettes and candlelight, lamplight and, of course, the lighthouse. Moody, gorgeous and warm, this picture is a feast for the eyes.

In the end, this film is an example of a picture made by enormous talents that just does not work. It’s one of the more heartbreaking facts of the film industry but sometimes everyone can be doing the right thing and still end up with a dud.

The Love Light is a plot that would have worked as a dramatic one-reeler but it just doesn’t have the oomph to be stretched out to feature length. The final third of the film feels tacked on and nothing is really very satisfying. The cinematography is an enormous draw, of course, and the film’s lighter moments work but the whole thing is kind of a mess. It’s an interesting bit of film history but not necessarily great entertainment.

Where can I see it?

The Love Light was released on DVD by Milestone but that edition is out of print. I have not yet viewed the Film Detective release.

***

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The Love Light (1921) A Silent Film Review Mary Pickford plays an Italian woman whose brothers have gone off to fight in World War One.

[blue-fluff-elf-blog]

Thrown Away

From @wildtsukai’s starter here. Moved for tracking purposes. Eyes too large for a small child slowly open. The small child whines to find nothing but the dark. He doesn’t like it. It’s scary. He rolls onto his stomach then moves onto his hands and feet. What he feels under his tiny webbed hands is cold, wet, and rough. He doesn’t like touching it. So he shifts so that he is sitting up. A finger goes to his mouth for a moment before deciding it tastes yucky and pulls it out. His wide amber colored eyes look up. He remembers the people he has known since he was born looking at him when they put him in here. He wants them right now. Because he is scared. Cold. His tummy is hurting.

He tries to crawl again but he hits his face on something. The shock and pain to his nose has his eyes tearing up. That had hurt! He doesn’t like being here. He wants those people to come back and take him out of here. He wants someone to make him not hurt. Make him not cold. So the tiny child does the only thing he can do. He let’s out a wail and starts crying, one of his fists hitting the rough wall to make more noise. Noise brings people. He wants people. He needs them. So he keeps crying and screaming, his fist making the loud thumping sound.

Kurt... could hear something. 

He was just wandering. Enjoying the moonlight. The quiet of the street lined with apartments. He wanted to get a feel for their new neighborhood, after all! Learn where everything was. 

And now... now, he could hear crying. A baby crying. Normally, it wouldn’t worry him too much- just a little one scared of the dark, or tired and cranky, and demanding it’s mother’s attention. But this cry didn’t have the attention seeking whine of a baby with it’s parents. No, this was shrill, panicked. It put him on edge. Where was it coming from? 

He followed the sound, all but running by the time he reached some dark, damp back alleyway. Why was there a baby back here? It was way too dangerous! The cold, the grime, the rats. Where was it?

Kurt’s eyes locked onto where the banging and crying was coming from. No way. It couldn’t be... could it?

He hurried over to the dumpster, three-fingered hands grabbing onto the side as he pulled himself up to peer inside. Grippy feet clung easily to the side, and he would very much resemble a monkey were it not for the image inducer he wore.

“Mein Gott... hey, little one,” he gasped softly, eyes wide with shock. It really was a baby! A little green baby! Just... just sitting in the dumpster! He could hardly believe what he was seeing. In fact, for a moment, he had no idea what to do. Where were it’s parents? How long had it been out here in the cold? 

A sense of urgency overcame him like a wave and he scrambled to reach down. His waist hooked on the side of the dumpster, tail extending to keep himself balanced, and arms stretched to reach for the baby. He managed to grab it’s arms and start pulling it up and out.

[nachtsoklein]

i am putting kurt in my pocket

[disc-golf]

The Top 12 Warning Signs of Manipulative People—And How to Deal with Them

Each person has an impact on their community—especially their close circle of friends, family, colleagues, and acquaintances. There are countless benefits to this impact; mutual emotional, intellectual, and spiritual support buoy us up when we’re feeling downtrodden and give us the strength we need to “level up.”

But…

Some people take advantage of the trust engendered in these relationships and manipulate others to their own ends. While there are many kinds of manipulation, the one we’re most familiar with is the psychological variety.

Psychological manipulation is a type of social influence that aims to change the perception or behavior of others through underhanded, deceptive tactics. By advancing only the interests of the manipulator, often at others’ expense, such methods can be abusive, devious, and deceptive.

Avoiding manipulators can save you a lot of nerves and heartache, so you should learn how to recognize their methods. In this post, I will share 12 warning signs of manipulative people—and how you can deflect their abusive tactics.

The Home Court Tactic

A home court advantage is a sports phenomenon, but finds its place in all other areas of life, too. For instance, you probably feel more comfortable working in your office or sleeping in your own bed instead of hotel rooms. A well-known environment gives people the feeling of safety and self-confidence, which is what manipulators know and exploit to put extra pressure on victims.

Manipulative people will take you to a place you’re comfortable with—a favorite restaurant, a well-known park, etc.—where they can be more aggressive and dominant, forcing you to succumb to their influence. If you want to resist this, you should meet people in a neutral setting. 

Criticizing Victims Openly

Many manipulators attack their targets directly by criticizing and ridiculing them in the presence of others. It’s their way to prove supremacy and highlight your shortcomings. Using this tactic, they just want to keep reminding you of flaws and wrongdoings, but they never offer help or a solution. That’s because their criticism isn’t at all about you; it’s about their own self-doubt and the need to puff up their own importance.

To counteract this, you can change the subject, claim you’re busy and need to leave, or simply walk away (depending on how aggressive the criticism is). Create space between you and the situation so you can process the criticism in a balanced, reasonable way—instead of simply reacting in anger. Most of the time, this unwarranted criticism is not based in reality or is severely inflated.

Pushing You to Be Vulnerable First

Manipulative individuals will often invite you to start a discussion by sharing your own thoughts, ideas, and opinions. They do this so they can analyze your ideas, detect weak spots, and find your breaking point. They are always assessing your core values in order to hit you where it hurts the most. This gives them weak points to leverage without being vulnerable themselves—a manipulator’s ideal position of strength. They can use this to sway a decision in their favor or simply demoralize you to burnish their own image by comparison.

If you come to the table with a known manipulator, however, you can avoid this situation. Stay calm and talk about things in general; don’t go into details and don’t reveal your points of view until you’re able to share equally. To help achieve that, be sure to offer your ideas one at a time (starting with the least impactful), giving the other person a chance to reciprocate. If they don’t, then keep the rest of your cards close to your chest and seek out someone else who is willing to discuss more openly.

Truth Distortion

Lying is one of the most frequent forms of manipulation, but skilled conspirators are smarter than that. Instead of lying, they distort the truth by not revealing all information, exaggerating, or intentionally understating important facts. This leads you to wrong conclusions, so make sure to double-check information before trusting a suspicious person.

The Rationalization Tactic

Psychology sees rationalizations as invented explanations that hide or deny true motivations, causes, or actions. Individuals who try to control other people often use this tactic to bombard victims with tons of fake or irrelevant statistical findings, researches, and case studies. This happens mostly in business; many a CEO will rationalize business decisions to ensure personal profit instead of company benefit. Still, they have to offer a justification to stakeholders, which they conjure with the help of manipulated data.

The only way out of this awkward situation is to keep asking questions: Who conducted the research that justifies this decision? How does it relate to your niche? Is it just a one-time exception or a general industry rule?

Once you’ve consider all angles carefully and proofed a decision’s rationale on your own, you can decide whether or not there’s rationalization at play. 

Administrative Obstacles

Richard Gott, a psychology expert at Best Essays, recently noted: “Manipulative people often exploit administrative barriers to slow you down. They use bureaucracy as the obstacle to preserve supremacy and keep you from revealing essential facts and findings.” In this case, respond by being persistent and creative. There’s usually more than one way to secure the information you need, so think outside the box.

Avoiding Communication

When manipulators avoid answering your phone calls, messages, or meeting invitations, all they’re really saying is that you’re not worth their time. They make you wait because they want to feel more important, fragile, and vulnerable.

If possible, the best solution is to stop calling the manipulator and find another way to get the job done. He or she will soon realize that they no longer have leverage. 

If that’s not possible, then let go of what is out of your hands. The ball is in their court; if they’re not responding, incomplete tasks are on them.

Aggressive Behavior

We’ve all faced this sort of manipulator at some point in our careers. These are individuals who believe that sheer aggression will produce desired results. That’s why they speak loudly and use threatening body language while talking to you. In these circumstances, just stay calm and offer cogent arguments—not aggression. Also, document these interactions so you can share them with superiors and get witnesses for support.

Negative Surprises

Most people hate when they have to face sudden and unexpected problems both in professional and private life. Manipulative people are well aware of this, so they use it to put you off balance, giving them the chance to get one step ahead.

Here’s the best response: Stay calm and deal with the problem as quickly as possible. And don’t be afraid to ask for help. Everyone endures crises now and again, so it’s expected that your coworkers will be asked to lend a hand. 

Time Pressure

A common sales tactic is to put consumers under time pressure and persuade them to buy products before they’ve really given the purchase due consideration. Manipulative persons will put you under the same kind of tension to force an immediate reaction, but don’t give in. If you know a decision needs to be made, decide before you have conversations with others what your process will be and how much time you need to consider all options. This will help you stand your ground when others push you—and give you the opportunity to weigh all criteria equally.

Negative Humor

Irony and sarcasm are commonplace, but in the hands of manipulative people, they turn into deriding humor that is designed to make victims feel ashamed. Although it appears harmless and trivial, disparaging humor can actually foment discrimination against targeted groups or individuals. There is little you can do to prevent the situation from happening, but the best reaction is to show you don’t care about negative humor pointed at you. Walk away and/or counter with positivity. 

“Playing Dumb”

Some people will pretend they don’t get your ideas only to avoid completing their duties. They pretend ignorance and play dumb hoping that you’ll finish what they were supposed to do. In this case, the worst thing is to lose patience and do all the work on your own. Don’t let these people get away with their plan; be persistent and force them to take responsibility for their actions.

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Manipulation is often used by those with low-self esteem or who are incredibly lazy. Whatever the motivation, keep an eye out for signs of their manipulation and know how to counteract it. (And be sure never to employ the same tactics yourself!)

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The post The Top 12 Warning Signs of Manipulative People—And How to Deal with Them appeared first on Early To Rise.

[therobc]

“Dear unborn child by Bill Gotts”

So, (Just to fill you in) I made this film this past year about a guy named Bill. He’s a blog, opinion columnist who’s moved into the next phase of his life... and he’s a bit neurotic and going through a tad of an early mid life crisis.

Anyhow, as I spent sometime doing re-writes and drafts, There are many scenes or parts that got scrapped (Naturally). I just found one of Bill’s ‘Opinion’ pieces that I dropped a long time ago. It was supposed to be one of his final blogs in the story to his future child, but It didn’t work with the flow of the rest of the film.

Looking at it now, It’s pretty amusing. So I thought I’d share it as it actually describes the character of Bill and his head space quite well. Feeling the heavy weight of the world with the new knowledge of being a new parent to a little human. His column BILL’s BEESWAX is in the movie (Sample snapshot below). Hope it amuses you as it did for me rediscovering it. Cheers!

“Dear unborn child” by Bill Gotts

I feel compelled to let you into my world already. I don't see things the way I used to because, you see, I'm finding as I age, I don't feel as confident (or arrogant?) in my opinions as I did about a decade ago.  We don't know each other yet but if I may, Please allow me to tell you what (I think) I do know and what I've learned so far.

Hate begets hate. It's a  never ending cyclone that swirls the cesspool upward and out to spew and contaminate. A contamination that spreads into decades (centuries?) of future generations. It will have you question the human race and wonder if we will ever learn anything. So please, pick up a book of historical facts. Yes, an actual book from the library. Read it. Research it. Educate yourself by learning about human behavior in historical events. Their errors, mistakes, and decisions made from a place of fury, anger and fear.

After you've spent sometime reading and you feel you're ready to jump off a bridge, you must research the historical figures who had compassion, lead by logic and common sense. They were strong in the presence of their humble nature. An unshakable passion for their belief in the good we all have the capacity of.

Now, I'm being vague by not using quotes or specifically labeling of these historical individuals because this is your journey. You must do the work because no one will do it for you. I'm not a historian, I'm just your father. That's life.

So I'll leave you with a parental guide in the form of a top 10:

(1) Realize that being humble is not a weakness. It's one of the strongest parts of our nature.

(2) Know that common sense is not common at all. So be uncommon.

(3) If you're to be outspoken, know as much of the facts about what you're speaking about as possible.

(4) Remember communication is both speaking AND hearing. It's not all about you and what you think.

(5) Energy is better spent on finding solutions rather than endless complaining.

(6)Be passionate BUT having the balance of your minds logic to your hearts desire is critical.

(7) Cheez whiz is weird but you'll find yourself craving it time and again.

(8) By the time you read this in the future, you may be asking “what the hell is a LIBRARY”. Don't worry, we'll figure it out.

(9) Don't fear being wrong or making mistakes. There's no way around it. Accept it and learn from it. Your future wisdom depends on it.

(10) I love you more than anything that I've ever known.

Until then I'm looking forward to meeting you in around 8 months.

Dad