#it won't fill itself sadly

[nouverx]

Needed a little break from digital art for a few days so I decided to fill a few pages of my sketchbook with StaticMoth 📺🦋 I haven't used my poscas in a while damn

[phoward89]

Masterlist

Stepcest, Stepson!Coryo x Stepmother!Reader, Sub!Coriolanus, Switch!Reader, Crassus Snow x Younger!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Crassus Snow is a cold hearted asshole, but he's a hot asshole... Stepcest, older man/younger woman, arranged marriage, cheating, affairs, secrets, cussing, secret love child, Coryo is a bit selfish and too ambitious, Crassus decides to try and be a better husband/father

Part 4:

Dinner has just been served, so you're gathered around the dining room table with Grandma'am and Coriolanus. Crassus isn't home yet, but you're not worried about his absence. He'll be home any minute. He always walks in around the time dinner's served.

In fact, you're expecting to hear the door open and your husband's footsteps echo against the marble floor at any second. Like you've been hearing every single night around this time since you moved into the Snow penthouse; became a part of the Snow family.

You’re picking at your food with disinterest while listening to Coriolanus brag about the praise he received from Dr. Gaul during his internship earlier in the day.

“Dr. Gaul wants me to help her conduct an experiment on a new test subject.” Coriolanus smiled proudly, icy eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Oh, I hope it's nothing too ghastly. Some of those science experiments can be atrocious.” Grandma’am says while cutting her chicken with such grace. Truly, her manners were from a time once forgotten- a time of gentleman and cavaliers. “Why, I remember when I was a girl our science teacher made us dissect frogs. Can you believe that?”

And suddenly the sound of the phone ringing fills the air.

Ring, ring, ring…

“I'll get it.” You announce, removing your napkin from your lap before standing up.

Coriolanus just nods before telling Grandma'am, “Oh, Dr. Gaul won't be having me dissecting frogs. Her experiments are more complex than that.”

Yea, the mad scientist will probably be having him dissect the latest drugged and numbed body of a district test subject turned mutt.

Ring, ring, ring...

You quickly make your way into the sitting room, which was closer to the dining room and had a phone in it.

Ring, ring, ring…

“Hello, Snow residence. Mrs. Snow speaking.” You answer in the polite way you've been instructed to take phone calls for the family. Yes, the Snows are an old and highly regarded family so answering the phone has to be a polite and professional affair.

“Y/N, it's me. Crassus.” Your husband says over the phone. Of course, the phone in the sitting room isn't a video phone, but a simple standard phone, so you can't see his facial expressions.

The video phones are in the living room and in your husband's study. Why, who knows. You really don't care either. Not like you talk to a lot of people on the phone anyways.

Sadly, the few friends you had drifted away from you once you married Crassus shortly after graduating the Academy. Apparently, your ‘friends’ didn't want to associate with you anymore because your husband's a middle-aged man; a cold-hearted war hero. Yes, you suppose that your husband intimidated your ‘friends’ just by his presence and that's why they all drifted away.

Sometimes your brother calls you to check in, but, sadly, he's too busy with his life as an Officer in 12. And your mother rarely calls. You don't know why, but for some reason you being married and a mother doesn't quite sit well with her despite the fact that she signed off on your arranged marriage contract.

Your brow furrows at hearing your husband on the phone. Shouldn't he be on his way home right now?

And as if he could read your thoughts, Crassus tells you, “I’m calling because I'm going to be late for dinner.”

Why?

As if he heard your mental musing, he explains, “I let my secretary leave early. It's his anniversary and he's taking his wife out for dinner.”

Of course, your husband lets his secretary leave early to celebrate his anniversary while you've never celebrated an anniversary let alone a birthday with Crassus. Hell, the only reason you celebrate holidays with your husband's because they're federal and all of the government buildings are closed for them.

“So, I'm afraid I'm not quite sure what time-” Crassus began to say, only to cut himself off mid sentence when he heard you sniffling over the phone.

Crassus couldn't help, but feel as if he's the reason you're sniffling. He doesn't know why, but it sends a pang to his cold heart. He's sitting at his desk, clutching his phone; listening to your sniffles turn into soft sobs and he has no idea how to deal with it. Crassus isn't a man that's a natural comforter; in fact he's naturally stern and aloof.

“Petal?” Crassus asks, the new pet name slipping from his tongue before his mind could think better of it. Before he could utter your name.

Petal? Since when does your husband use pet names with you? Are you hallucinating? Is your baby blues making you hear things? Wiping your tears, due to your rollercoaster emotions brought on by the baby blues, you compose yourself and tell Crassus, “I'll have your plate placed in the oven for you. You can reheat it whenever you get home.”

You didn't even give Crassus a chance to respond, just told him, “I'll see you whenever you get home. Bye.”, before hanging up on him.

Instead of returning to the dining room, you opted to spend some time with your son in his nursery. Since Cassian's sleeping, you decide to just sit in the corner rocking chair while watching him.

Cassian was such a precious baby. Over the last few days he's started to settle easier; sleep a bit longer. He's a good baby; doesn't cry too much- just when he's hungry or his diaper’s soiled. Little Cassian Xandros is also a very happy baby. Even tho he's barely a week old, you swear he smiles at you every time his icy eyes (Snow eyes) lands on you- his mom.

You're not sure how long you've been in the nursery for, but you know it's been a while because Coriolanus enters the room with a frown maring his prominent and flawless face.

“You never came back to the dining room after answering the phone, mommy.” Coryo tells you, closing the door behind him and striding over to you.

“I wasn't hungry.” Is your excuse. Well, it wasn't an excuse per say. You truly did lose your appetite considering you were picking at your plate before Crassus even called. You're blaming that on the baby blues since you're feeling a bit melancholy.

“You can't skip meals, Y/N. You're a nursing mother; you need all the strength you can get to properly feed our son.” He chastises while towering over you.

Sighing, you remind your lover, “As far as legality’s concerned, Coryo, Cassian's my son with Crassus; he's his father while you're the older brother.”

Coriolanus' handsome face contorts as his baritone echoes out darkly, “Don't throw that minor inconvenience into my face. Despite what legal papers say I'm the baby's father and as his father I want what's best for him, which includes you eating properly in order to nurse him.”

The University student's berating sounds harsh to you. Perhaps it's because of your baby blues or perhaps it's because he's making you feel like he's attacking your abilities as a mother. But whatever the reason, his lecture has tears springing to your eyes. Tears that you just can't control.

Coriolanus' face skews up in bafflement. He can't understand why you're breaking down in tears over nothing. He's just having a conversation with you. And he's noticed that this isn’t the first time you've been weepy and dismal for no good reason.

Yes, over the last few days while coming and going from the penthouse, Coriolanus has noticed that you've been a sniffling, melancholic mess. But he can't figure out why. You have him and the baby he decided to give you, you should be happy- no, not just happy, but grateful for those things; not boo-hooing when you think you're all alone.

Frankly, the golden- haired devil with a halo of curls is tired of your tears. They have no merit. At least not in his mind.

Taking long, quick steps over to the baby's crib, your lover picks up the newborn, causing him to wake up with a loud wail of a cry, and storms over to you. Literally shoving the baby into your arms, Coryo callously orders, “Stop your mindless weeping.” As you soothe your baby, you're hiccuping while tears still continue to stain your cheeks. “You have me, who loves you, and the baby I gave you; there's no reason for you to be so out of sorts, mommy.” The platinum blonde tells you, trying to get you to see how unwarranted your cries are.

But before you can even explain that it's not your fault, that according to Grandma'am you have the baby blues, Coryo sees himself out of the room with the excuse that he was homework to do to ensure he's still the top of his graduating class.

When Crassus gets home, his mother's up and waiting for him. “Crassus, I'm appalled and ashamed that you never came home for dinner.” Grandma'am chastised her only living son as soon as he set foot in the main room of the penthouse, briefcase loosely clutched in his large hand.

“Mother-” The cold and stoic man begins, only for his mother to cut him off with a firm and motherly, “Don't mother me, Crassus Xanthos Snow. Not when you come home 2-hours later then you should; missing dinner and quality time with your family.”, while rising from her seat and marching over to her son with as much speed as her old arthritis filled bones will let her.

“I called Y/N and told her I'd be late. Didn't she relay my message?” Crassus asks- using the question as his defense against being late.

“She received the call while we were gathered in the dining room for dinner; she never returned after your call.”

Great…him coming home late made you so sad that you couldn't even rejoin the family for dinner. Were you crying so badly that you couldn't control it; that you felt the need to eat perhaps after everyone else was done as a way to hide your sadness from them? Oh, hell, did he screw up not coming home for dinner?

Fuck!

He's a horrible husband.

A horrible, shitty, cold-hearted husband that doesn't know how to treat his wife, who’s 2-decades younger than him. But, despite being a cold, indifferent husband towards you he doesn't want you crying at the drop of a hat and being sad.

His first wife seemed so happy to be Mrs. Snow; she even seemed to smile a bit brighter when she shoved him out the door for work- and that was back when he was stationed in District 12 as the Commander and only came home to his Corso penthouse in the Capitol on furloughs. How is it that his late wife, Demeter, was never saddened by his absence while you are? You both married him at similar ages, both knew what was expected of you- being a proper socialite housewife of the respected heir of an esteemed founding Capitolite family, so what was the difference between you and her? Why is it that you're a mess, crying your eyes out, because he's emotionally cold and unavailable while his first wife wasn't bothered by it; didn't seem to mind his cold-hearted and stern ways?

Were you more emotional because you took after your father, Javani, more than your mother, Helenium? Were you more of an introverted, kind-hearted, sunshine and roses type then he originally thought? He remembers that Javani Halvir, his late best friend and your father, was very introverted and only opened up around those he was truly comfortable with, that he truly didn't have a mean bone in his body- hence why he got along so easily with just about everyone he crossed paths with, and that he always looked on the sunny side of life.

Oh shit…

If you truly have a personality like your father's then your marriage to Crassus is probably slowly killing you since he's not doing anything to make you feel comfortable. Maybe he should've looked harder to find you a suitable match with somebody younger and less jaded? But, truthfully, Crassus jumped the gun and married you in fear of General Byzantine (the former Commander of 2 that was on the rebels' side of the war before siding with his friend Strabo Plinth and joining the Capitol against the rest of the rebellion and ending the siege around Capitol City) using Strabo Plinth’s money to seduce your mother's soul into allowing him to have your hand in marriage. He knew that Javani would roll over in his grave and haunt him from Elysian if Crassus let Byzantine get his grubby, lecherous hands on you.

Giving her son a motherly whack on the arm, the type all mothers use for scolding, Grandma'am gives Crassus a much needed lecture on his skills as a husband. “Crassus, I draw the line at you missing dinner tonight. You're not a very caring or attentive husband to Y/N and maybe before my new grandbaby came I could turn a blind eye to it, but I can't do it anymore. You need to be more understanding and considerate of your wife's feelings, Crassus. She's a new mother to Cassian; her entire life is now devoted to raising the child that you gifted her, she deserves a husband that at least pretends to care about her and his newborn then one that blatantly doesn't.”

“Mother-” Crassus tried to dig himself out of the hole that was his mother's scolding, but was cut off by her snapping, “Crassus, I'm ashamed at how you're treating your wife. Being a new mother's very taxing on her; she needs your support, even if it's just faux support.”

“My first wife wasn't like Y/N; she didn't need my attention and support so badly.” Crassus points out as a weak way of defending his shitty actions as a husband.

“Demeter, bless her heart and rest her soul, was nothing like Y/N.” Grandma'am told her son. Not waiting from him to make a reply, the elderly woman explained her remark with, “She was a youthful, vapid, vain girl that viewed joining our family by marrying you as a way to get out from under her parents thumb. According to Pluribus, she batted her eyes and powdered her nose at you while plopping herself down at your table while at his old nightclub. She wanted a marriage, but was too insipid to truly want anything past the successful husband and the perfect family that includes a male heir to coddle and spoil."

Grandma'am grew to care for her first daughter-in-law after living with her for so long, since Crassus didn't take her on base with him, but she never saw her as having what it took to be a true Snow. She always thought the young lady was lacking something since she always seemed a bit dull, despite being a gentle-soul.

“And Y/N’s like her father, Javani.” Crassus stated what he'd only just realized a few minutes earlier.

Grandma'am patted her son on the cheek, a small smile gracing her lips. “It took you long enough to see it, my boy.”

Now, in Grandma'am's opinion you have what it takes to be a Snow. You're a lovely girl, very well rounded. But she's afraid that if her son doesn't support you during your baby blues then you'll turn into a former shell of yourself.

Grandma'am, unlike you, had the support of her husband during her boughs of the baby blues. Hopefully she can get her son to be benevolent towards you.

After Crassus placed his briefcase in his study, he went to your shared bedroom only to discover that you weren't there. He knew that the only other place you could be was the nursery. He made a mental note to go to the nursery to see you once he was finished showering and dressing in a pair of fine silk pajamas.

So, that's why when you're in the middle of singing your son to sleep with a pre-Panem song that you remember your father tucking you into bed with before the war: Cat’s in the Cradle, Crassus walks into the room.

Your husband quickly realizes that you're smiling at the baby cradled in your arms as you softly sing to him. That you seem genuinely happy. Crassus can't help, but to wonder if the only time you're happy and not sad is when you're spending time with Cassian.

“And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon. Little boy blue and the man in the moon.”, You softly sing, only to be interrupted by your husband's deep voice saying, “I think he's asleep and it's time for you to join me in bed, petal.”

Nodding, you stand while holding the baby close to your chest. The sight reminds your husband of a fierce lioness with her cubs. “Did you get your dinner from the oven?” You ask while bringing your baby over to his crib.

“No.” Crassus shakes his head. “I thought-” He began, only to be cut off by you flatly telling him, “You should eat before going to bed, Crassus.” Placing Cassian into his crib, you add in the rhetorical question of, “It wouldn't be good for the breadwinner of the house to get sick from malnutrition, now would it?”

Crassus assumes that you ate once Grandma'am and Coriolanus were done eating in the dining room, so he doesn't ask you to join him in the kitchen for his meal of leftovers. No, instead he just nods and tells you that he'll join you in bed once he's done eating.

And when he does join you in your shared bed, well, you're already fast asleep. So, he quietly joins you in bed- making sure not to disturb you. Like his mother said, you're a new mother whose world revolves around your son; you need as much rest as you can get.

But as he lays his platinum curls on his pillow, he realizes that you look peaceful in your sleep. He can't honestly say that he's even seen you look so content before.

And for some reason, unknown to him, he wanted to see that look of tranquility on your face during waking hours as well.

Leo Davis stepped off the elevator and went over to his desk. He was 15 minutes late, but he did have a very passionate night celebrating his anniversary with his wife last night. A celebration that started at dinner and ended in the bedroom of their modest apartment that they're paying too much rent for. And as soon as he sat down at his desk, the door to his boss's office flew open.

Oh no, was he in trouble for being late? Crassus was always in the office way before the official start time of 9 o’clock, so did he know that Leo just arrived? The secretary was scared to death of being fired for being late as he watched his boss emerge from his office. The imposing man, who was well over 6 feet tall, walked over to his employee’s desk with his coffee mug in hand.

Coming to a stop at Leo's desk, Crassus took a sip of his coffee and asked, “So, Leo, how was your anniversary with your wife last night?”

Leo Davis nearly choked on his own spit. Since when does the General Crassus Snow want to know about his personal life? The man was always shutting down all attempts at conversation that even remotely seemed to steer towards personal things, such as family. If it wasn't about work, a coffee, or a good order then Crassus didn't talk about it.

“Well, did you have a nice time?” Crassus asked as Leo just looked at him wide-eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh, yes, yes, we had a nice time.” Leo nods, nearly tripping over his tongue as he answers his boss. Holy hell, he still doesn't believe what's happening. That his boss is asking him about the details of his anniversary.

Deciding to not look a gift horse in the mouth, the secretary smiles and tells his boss the details of his night. Well, the details that are safe for work that is.

“You should bring your wife to Palace Arms for your anniversary. You'll have to make a reservation and it's located in the Denver Palace Hotel, but it's worth it for a special occasion.” Leo advised his boss, just to be friendly. Perhaps being friendly will get him a lesser workload. Eh, wishful thinking never hurt anyone.

Nodding, Crassus simply says, “I'll keep that in mind.” He knows that since he didn't do anything with you to celebrate your last anniversary that the he'll have to make up for his lack of interest with the upcoming one. So, he truly means it when he says he'll keep the prospect of taking you to the Palace Arms for your next anniversary in mind.

Before seeing you crying in the corner of your shared bedroom, Crassus would never ask for marital advice- and from a lowly employee as well, but now all he wants is to make you happy. He wants you to stop crying so much; wants you to stop being sad. He also wants to know what to do to change things, so that's why Crassus straight up asks his secretary, “Leo, how do you make your wife happy?”

“What?” Leo asks, wide-eyed and taken aback. Did his boss really just ask him that?

“My wife's been sad lately and since you seem to be on good terms with your wife, I was wondering, how do you make your wife happy?” Crassus asks, explaining his previous question in length, before taking another sip of his coffee.

“Um, I suppose I make my wife happy just by doing the little things for her.” Leo answers while wishing he didn't accidentally leave his travel mug of coffee at home on the kitchen counter. He could really use some right now.

“What are the little things you do for her?” Crassus asks, clearly oblivious to what ‘the little things' means. The man was cold, stern, and indifferent by nature. He wasn't one to make gestures out of care of love. So, yes, he really has no idea what his secretary's talking about.

And that was the moment that Leo Davis knew he was doomed to be General Crassus Snow’s personal marriage counselor/advisor. Oh, how the stars seemed to play a cosmic joke on him, huh?

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @princess-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress @nayveetbhh

[mydearneteyam]

ON SKIN AND SAND, IN YOUR HEART AND MINE ;; NETEYAM

summary ;; love is not based on our physique, but on how our heart handles itself and how long it lasts. In different places, neteyam and his special one think about each other.

pairing ;; neteyam x gn!na'vi!reader.

warnings ;; none ;; angst maybe??

word count ;; 1.0k

word of the day ;; yawntu [ˈjawn.tu] n. loved one

Neteyam clearly remembered your hurt look, your broken heart and your trembling lips when you both gave each other a last goodbye hug. It seemed like it was the day before, but in reality, it had been a couple of months ago.

A couple of months that, for him, had been peaceful in a way. There was no war. There were no weapons or shouts. He was wondering if you could enjoy that too. He was wondering if you still remembered the talks both of you had just a while ago.

“If you keep stumbling, we won't get to your clan in time,” you laughed, running in front of him, on the way to one of the waterfalls. Neteyam, with bow and arrows in hand, smiled with amusement as well, looking at you lovingly, happy to see you laugh.

“It’s not my fault that someone runs slower than me,” he defended himself playfully, holding your tail limply. You turned around as you hissed at him, playful.

“You can go ahead if you want,” you offered and, even knowing it was a trap, he decided to feign insanity and walk in front of you, feeling how you pull his tail just as gently he did with yours. Soon the path to the waterfall was filled with laughter and silly frolics from both of you.

While Neteyam was sitting in the sand, he felt the water on his feet, taking away one of the most precious memories for him. Still, the feeling only made him smile.

He imagined you with his family, in that new place that gradually he felt compelled to call home. He was not trying to worry his father, so he kept quiet about his insecurity, his desire to return. Besides, his brother seemed to enjoy it, wasn't it enough that his family was okay?

And yet, when he heard a distant laugh or saw a similar smile in the water, he couldn't help but feel like it was you. He was searching with his gaze for something, just something tiny that reminded him of you, your presence, your essence.

Would you be in the water right now in front of him, laughing and inviting him in too? Would you get used to the practices? Maybe someone on the island would set his sights on you and he should jump to your defense? He stood up in annoyance, clenching his jaw as a voice called out to him.

“Neteyam…” and he turned around. …

The forest was silent, almost gloomy. Even though you had to continue with all your tasks, you felt like nothing was the same. Was time really passing so slowly? You had never noticed that the days seemed to drag on forever, not when Neteyam was smiling at you from a tree or taking one of the prey that he tended to hunt to impress your family.

"Again?" you asked, positioning your hands at your sides in a vase shape. Neteyam shrugged his shoulders, as if it were an everyday occurrence to carry the animal on his shoulders to your home.

“Did I hear a thank you?” He ran one of his hands over your face, smiling at you.

You loved seeing that smile on his face. It was so sincere that you felt like it was a gift from Eywa, reserved for you and no one else, always seeing it. Or at least you used to.

“Did you get hurt?” one of your fellow hunters asked, watching as your hand gripped the knife tightly. You turned to look at him and shook your head, noticing that the Talioang had already moved too far away.

“Shit” you cursed, turning around and starting to address the clan again, feeling your emotions want to explode into tears. Had you always been so clumsy when hunting?

“Syulang,” a voice murmured next to you and you turned around, feeling your eyes dilate.

…

“Oh, Tsireya,” the eldest Sully son spoke, looking at the shorter one. She smiled sadly and tilted her head.

"Something happen? I have seen you very sad these days,” she said, with visible concern.

"I'm fine, it's just that, well, you know, there have been a bit difficult days trying to learn to breathe or sign language” Neteyam smiled and although the metkayina knew that he was fake, she only managed to nod.

“I'm sure everything will get better, don't worry.”

“Did you need something?” He spoke again, off topic and Tsireya's face lit up, smiling happily.

“I'm going with Lo'ak and Kiri to look for a couple of things underwater, maybe you want to come?” Neteyam turned to look at the vast sea and lowered his gaze.

“Yes, I'll go right away,” He smiled, placing his hand on the shoulder of his friend, who quickly said goodbye, exclaiming that she would go and tell both of her friends.

As Neteyam began to walk he noticed that a small flower was floating from the water and smiled, squatting down to check it and smiled melancholy, running his fingers through the sand to pick it up.

“Syulang…”

…

“…You have a flower here,” one of the boys next to you laughed, pulling it out of your hair. Because of your sad face, the boy get a little closer, worried. "You feel good?"

You pursed your lips, shaking your head and laughed, shaking your head.

“Not much, but I'll deal with it sooner or later,” you ran a hand over your face, tiredly. Everything felt so exhausting, so rushed, as if tomorrow you could die from a human attack.

“It will get better, we will be fine” he tried to smile at you, walking in front of you noticing how the others were also starting to return home. Being the last one, you couldn't help but notice how a couple among your classmates had their hands intertwined.

What will it feel like to arrive at the clan and then bury yourself in the arms of your partner?

And as you walked, you sighed with a pained smile.

“Neteyam…”

a/n ;; i tried to use the na'vi language a little ummm,,,, i also use one of my favorite hc about the name of neteyam ?? maybe if you see the last part you will notice. that's all !!

[toskarin]

THE WAY OF ALL FLESH 《万人の途》

You need not hurry, We've got all the time in the world.

My memory has failed sadly of late.

He is violently pessimistic.

It is wildly unlikely.

There is all the difference in the world between the two.

make an unholy fuss about very little.

Dear me! What a sorry mess everything is in!

The painting is a rank imitation.

a gross mistake.

a crushing bore.

with no earthly reason.

be crass ignorance.

every trick in the book.

They have all the advantages in the world.

go native. go bust.

The proposal came one vote short of unanimous approval.

I can't reach the buttons on the back. Will you do them for me?

So many movies have had this plot that it has been done to death.

Things don't go so well in real life.

It will go hard with him if he is found out.

It makes no difference no matter which way the election goes.

some people still can go without paying taxes.

look full in the face.

The sun shone in our faces.

One and one makes one.

These make a pair.

make the passing mark.

The seal is missing on the document.

The lace on one of my shoes had god undone.

I wouldn't want to be quoted on this.

I'm not much on putting those things into words.

be short on imagination.

It seems he got mixed up on his instructions.

Who is going to take you up on your offer!

He erred grossly on that problem.

a toy balloon on a string.

a dog on a chain.

be a black mark.

He is the sort of man whose personal charm grows on you on acquaintance.

Wherever did you put?

It was a good joke, but fell flat on him.

The mood grew on me.

My mind was not on it.

be borne in on one.

Shame on you!

an experiment on animals.

It is too late to perform an operation on him.

You ought to be harder on him.

Acids act upon metals.

It is unfair on you.

His voice grates upon my ear.

The drinks are on me.

Do you know you are taking a great deal on yourself?

Don't tell on me.

She seems to have something on him.

play a neat trick on a person.

get die on a person.

They have nothing on us.

Age has begun to tell on me.

No use trying to pull such a trick on me.

be on trial.

He is unable to hold anything on his stomach.

The scene was on.

I lay awake thinking over it all last night.

I had to rack my brains over that problem.

She hesitated over her answer.

ride roughshod over the objection.

Don't pull that line on me.

pull a sanctimonious face.

He never pulls his rank.

We are running short of gas.

Time is running short on me.

One's devil's luck runs out.

Finally she ran out of patience.

The watch has run down.

let one's imagination run riot.

run short of topics for conversation.

That is not the way the world is run.

run a machine at a high voltage.

run a person on a lie detector.

leave a motor running.

He stands small chance against you.

Kids run a high temperature over nothing in particular and snap out of it.

investigate a matter to the ground.

criticize severely.

You are worn to a shadow.

boring to distraction.

It has been done to death.

The bag was filled to bursting with sugar.

What are you seeing?

They were killed to a man.

It is done to a turn.

There is another side to the coin.

There's not enough depth to the story.

There is more to it than that.

There was no jerk to his motions.

That is about all there is to it.

The words had an ironical ring.

Have you any clue to work on?

The brakes refused to work.

The machine was still in fine working order.

The plan worked remarkably well.

It is very well in theory, but will it work?

His reason ceased to work.

Flattery will not work with him

It might work and again it might not work

I'm afraid it won't work so well.

Our plan worked successful.

The trick won't work with him.

The handle doesn't work.

The warning seemed to work most effectively.

Her face worked fiercely.

The screw had worked loose.

work a spear through one's hands.

They will work you to death.

He worked on a smile that didn't quite come off.

There is no knowing how that will work itself out.

This problem will not work out.

The safe opened to the key.

a ticket to a movie.

exit to applause.

The medicine worked into the wounded skin.

Oh! I'm inside out!

You are unzipped.

No stopover on this ticket.

try to enter a country on an expired passport.

I'll come again when you are free.

The question is who will bell the cat.

The fact that he was sick was not very impressive to her.

You asked for it.

untie a tight knot.

The girl couldn't word her feelings well.

Does he really mean it? I wonder.

Let him do his worst.

a would-be kindness.

Did she agree with you?

Turn your face toward me.

I don't think I can do it,but I'll try.

What is true of them is equally true of you.

They trumped up a charge to put him in jail.

Think it over carefully before you decide.

What are you talking about?

He bothered me with stupid questions.

Can it really be mine?

Don't calculate on me helping you.

No one called my attention to it.

Watch when you talk about religion.

You have the advantage of me.

They shouted to the utmost of their strength.

She never gave utterance to her personal feelings.

There were very few passengers in the train.

How much use did you get out of the machine?

It's not us that tried to upset their plans.

There was a chasm yawning in front of us.

Let me see,where was I?

Where did the plan go wrong?

work out one's idea of one's role.

To live is to suffer.

This is playing with words.

know what you mean.

What do you see?

You ought to have been more careful.

You need not have come.

Who do you think you are?

I have no idea what the word means.

ARRIVE ON THE EDGE

YOU RECAPTURED KARNEL OF THE LOST ARTICLE

AND THE ORDER IS TOTALLY OVER.

[naamahdarling]

So...this makes...maybe the third or fourth time in 30 years I have gotten an apology for garbage behavior from a clinic? I am shocked.

What happened yesterday at the doctor's office is this: I was very anxious and needed someone with me as backup for an exam. Because of a history of medical assault and neglect, I have a really hard time with that sort of thing. This clinic is the only place that I feel safe going to for this kind of care.

The facility told me I could not bring my boyfriend back with me, I told them I had a governmentally recognized disability, and that I needed someone with me because of anxiety and PTSD. They said that was fine and gave me a release sheet to fill out. That should have been the end of it.

Instead, I was told again when they called me back I could not bring him. They indicated at that time that they had a few private questions for me first. I knew this would be the "do you feel safe at home" screening questions (I support these), so I said "Okay, but he comes in for the exam."

They took me back, did not even ask those questions, and when the time came to bring him in, I was again told he could not come.

I am on the edge of a panic attack and now I am angry because this is both inhumane and a clear violation of the ADA. I am also barely able to speak articulately let alone advocate for myself because I am in a rough patch and totally alone in a scary environment that has now proved itself threatening.

The exam turned out to be unnecessary, thankfully, so I didn't push the issue and just got through the appointment and got out of there so I could have something to eat and stop shivering. But it made me sick inside, and I rapidly regretted not staying to speak to someone about it.

I used the portal and the phone to send a message asking the manager to call me about it, stating that I felt disrespected and unsafe, and that my right to reasonable accommodation for my disability had been seemingly ignored.

And to my utter SHOCK I got a call back from the manager who listened to me describe the incident, IMMEDIATELY apologized, and then told me that due to that incident and something else that happened this morning, they had a staff meeting to make sure it never happened again and it is now "set in stone" that patients may have someone they choose in the room with them. She was probably very aware that breaking the ADA in such a clear-cut way is really bad.

She also seemed personally sorry, and was very professional. Apparently the issue was that some staff were under the impression that the clinic was still using COVID protocols, which include not allowing anybody but the patient back. Which still would have been invalid in the face of "reasonable accommodations as outlined in the ADA", but it explains the confusion somewhat. They were just prioritizing rules over people, specifically disabled people, which is sadly typical.

The apology does not eliminate the last 24 hours of feeling like I'm doomed to be disrespected everyfuckingwhere I goddamned go, how scary it is to be devalued and dehumanized, and how helpless and hopeless it feels to be turned against by a clinic that prides itself on inclusivity. It doesn't take away feeling very depressed and being largely unable to sleep, or the fact that this has reinforced, again, the knowledge that I cannot let my guard down with medical professionals in the moment, even if changes are later made. Apologies don't fix everything. I came out of this another step behind, warier, less trusting. The only bright side is that MAYBE in the future this one clinic will fuck around with me less and with others less. I maybe helped fix a thing.

But I DO have the manager on a recording saying it won't happen again. So I can hold them to it. And I hope the people who were unclear on whether or not disabled people have the right to ask for what they need are very clear on the concept now.

[echantedtoon]

To Where The Hand Extends

(This is the promised raffle prize for @iron-embers. If Shinjuro comes out too ooc I apologize it's my first time writing him. Warnings for mentioned drinking and alcoholism concerning Shinjuro and mentioned death concerning Ruka. Hatomi belongs to iron-embers. I had to look.up so many japanese dishes lmao.)

The day was beautiful this morning.

With the sunlight sinking into the room through the window as the ball of light was nearing to setting within a few hours. The birds singing outside. Beautiful fresh smelling air. Beautiful visions of nature right outside of you looked. A bright blue sky. Fluffy white clouds. Yellow sun. Flowers of every color. Green plants everywhere. Trees providing shade as the wind rolled by. A little blue pond in the distance full of fish.

Yes.

An absolute picture perfect scene for what could very much be a good day. Nothing in the world to worry about. Nothing to do. Just peaceful quiet and nature. It's why she left most of the windows and doors leading to the outside open today it could get rather stuffy inside. The gentle noises of dishes being moved about the kitchen area along with the distant sounds of a few pots bubbling away on the furnace. The heavy smells of delicious spices and not quite done yet rice lingered in the air before wafting out the mentioned open windows and doors. Small footsteps ran out from up the side hall and the chef knew without even looking around that a pair of eyes had found their curiosity wondering into the kitchen.

"HUNGRY!," A loud voice declared out.

"You're going to have to be patient now.  Food doesn't make itself."

"What we having?!"

"Miso soup and onigiri."

A small chubby face scrunched up in protest. "Soup again?"

"There's leftover ochazuke from lunch if you don't want what I'm making for dinner," her calm voice replied back despite the smile that still plagued her features. Petite hands reached out to grab a potato while the other held up a sharp cutting knife above the chopping board. "And we're having all the leftovers tomorrow night. We don't waste food around here."

"Can't I have some momiji instead?"

Her eyes turned, head looking over her shoulder. Potato sternly pointed out to seven year old pouting in the doorway. "You're not getting any sweets unless you eat something healthy young man. It'll spoil your appetite and give you a stomachache and it's not healthy."

His response was to pout more buuuut his mad face only made him look like an adorable chubby hamster. "That's an old wives tale! Just like saying the Boogeyman is gonna come out of the closet if I don't sleep."

"My answer is still no. Now go wash up. If you don't eat anything good you won't be getting desert and that's that." 

Softer but heavier sounding footsteps came down the same hallway just as the first fiery haired and eyed boy stomped away as all upset children do and second later a second child stood in the doorway. He was a perfect mirror copy of the first boy only older by about six years at thirteen years old and he was smiling instead of pouting like his baby brother. Kyojuro always seemed to be smiling to be honest and it was no exception for when he curiously watched his brother go before looking back on her.

"What was that all about?"

Her smile never left as she went back to what she was doing before, trying to chop up this potato. "He's upset with me for not giving him dessert on demand." The sounds of chopping filled the air as the knife easily sliced through the potato at last. "Although he does seem a little crankier than he was a little while ago. I wonder why."

"Oh...It was Father actually."

Chop-

The hands paused in their movements. Knife resting between two potato slices as her head turned back to him. Blinking wide eyed before a sigh left through her nose and a frown settled upon her face. Oh. Their father.

"Oh, I see. ..What happened?"

His orange eyes sadly looked at his shuffling feet. "W-Well.. There's a festival in town A-And we wanted to go bu-bu-but...Father said it was a waste of time."

"Oh..Well I'm sure he didn't mean it like that. He's probably just tired and cranky right now."

"No. He always says no. Every year...he doesn't like it when we ask him." Young eyes suddenly lit up in a pleased idea as he looked at her in a gasp and clenched his fists in excitement. "I know! Can you take us instead!?"

She blinked at him but couldn't help but smile at the cute face he made while all hopeful. "You want me to take you? Really?"

"Uh huh! You're really nice and responsible and he thinks you're really pretty so of course he'll say yes!" He ended that surprising sentence by throwing his hands up. "So will you ask him?!"

Her eyes blinked again slightly surprised. "Pretty? I doubt that."

"But you are pretty, Ms. Hatomi! You're about as pretty looking as a sweet potato!"

His sentence made her giggle again as she shook her head. "Well thank you. I'm glad you think so."

"So you'll ask?!"

"Alright. I'll ask him when dinner's ready. For now go wash up with Senjuro-"

A rush to her legs made her look down as two arms wrapped around her waist in a tight hug as Kyojuro hugged her tightly. "Thanks, Ms. Hatomi! You're the nicest person ever!"

Her smile didn't wain as she patted the top of the young boy's head. "Thank you. Now off you go. Food is almost ready."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Soft footsteps echoed throughout the hall. The delicious smells of the food in her hands on the tray. The soup in the bowl sloshing around slightly with each sway from her steps through the late evening. There was still plenty of light outside but it was nearer to sunset now about maybe one or two hours away. Hey that didn't stop her from walking down the hall and stopping in front of the one door in particular. One she's already visited two times today to deliver breakfast and lunch. Carefully balancing the tray into one arm, she reached out her other hand to knock on the door just loud enough to get anyone inside's attention.

"Master Rengoku-san? I brought you dinner. Can I come in?"

If no one answered then that meant he was passed out again in which case she'd just leave the food by the door and come back later, however a loud grunt from inside gave her all the go ahead she needed to use a foot and slide the door just enough to peek in first.

The room was dark inside despite the sun still being out. She saw why when her eyes saw the shutters still closed tightly on the windows and the only source of light being the crack in the doorway and a single candle lit on a table in the far corner.

"What is it? Can't you see I'm busy!"

Silvery light collided with the dancing gold of the flame in a beautiful glow making shadows dance against the walls and furniture. Reflection beaming off eyes unblinking within the strange alluring mixture of darkness and lights. The motions of writing ceasing in their motions completely and the emotions taking over. The one whom was working stopping to set the feather back onto it's rightful pedestal and sitting there unblinking. The one who had the emotions stirring around from his mind and down to his heart. Those eyes turned slowly, head turning to the doorway behind him as he sat as his table. The area behind him was dark, and almost hard to see but he saw what the eyes were searching for. Her head peeking in through the doorway and staring back to the man sitting on the pillow in the otherwise dark and silent room.

The master of the entire Rengoku estate. Sitting there with paperwork of some kind unfinished in front of him and a tired look to his face as she quietly shuffled in  holding up the food tray in her hands.

"I brought you dinner, Sir." Nevermind she already told him once outside the door. "I figured you might be hungry by now."

Fiery eyes seemed to glow in the dark as they eyed her..and then the tray in her hands before turning back to stare blankly at the unfinished papers. "Bring it in then."

She smiled walking in with the tray gently over to where she had left the last tray taking note of how it was empty now with the dishes from that lunch being left on top. That's good. That meant he was eating today and filling his stomach with something other than the sake that was usually seen around him. He paid no attention to her as she gently slid the old one away from his side and replaced it with the newer one filled with the delicious smelling good. And despite himself, she caught his head tilting slightly towards it. Good. He was showing more interest in eating again. That fact alone made her smile.

"What is it?", he bluntly asked.

"Miso soup and onigiri. I figured it'd be a nice day to have onigiri since a festival is going on in the next town over," she answered just picking up the tray.

"Is that right?"

"Mm hm...You know Kyojuro was just telling me about it today. I was told there's going to be a Kabuki theater there. It sounds like fun."

"Did that boy of mine put you up to this? If you're here to try and get me to change my mind then you can forget it!" A finger harshly jabbed down into the wood of the table. "Those two are staying HERE where they belong and studying until I decide they're improving!"

"No one put me up to anything." Maybe it was the matter of fact way she spoke of the fact she didn't react to his anger at all but he was taken off guard every time she looked at him like that. The silent calm stare that was both full of disapproval and sadness at the same time. "I was only stating that it sounded like fun. After all  everyone has need for a break sometimes."

"And sometimes someone needs discipline to make them learn."

"And sometimes someone can push someone else so hard to do something so much of the time that they burn out."

He flinched. Hard.

"But that is only my opinions on what might happen to someone if that happened, not that it is happening to anyone else I know." Her body bowed at the middle before turning her body. "I'll come back in a few hours to see if you're done eating."

"... Where's this dam festival at anyways?" 

She paused in the middle of stepping away, head turning back to him but he didn't look up from the papers on the table in front of him. 

"Just in the next town over. It's not even an hour away."

".....I want EVERYONE inside before any sunlight disappears. I do not care what any of those boys have to say."

It was curt, blunt, rude, and with a small time limit for fun...But that was a yes. An actual yes without even saying yes.

She nodded. "Of course. We do that every night." She went to leave aga-

"Hatomi."

"Yes?"

"The lunch you made me."

"Was it too much? I can make the portions smaller if you prefer or maybe you didn't like how I made it?"

There was a long moment of silence between the two of them but she couldn't leave until he finished talking to her. He remained silent sitting there still not looking at her.

"..It tasted good. It could use s-..some more salt but it was fine."

She could not see his face otherwise perhaps she might've seen the way a pink hue coated his features and thank goodness for the dark or else she might've seen the glow to his ears. Instead she blinked slightly in surprise... before smiling wider.

"Then I'll be sure to add some more salt next time I make that dish."

[themotherofallthings]

Someone give Louis Tomlinson his flowers already!

I woke up early this morning, as I often do, thanks to years of working and horrible insomnia. And like most mornings these last few years, I grab my phone and begin to scroll my twitter feed. Louis had a show last night and I wanted to catch up on anything I might've missed once the show had ended and I headed to bed. Per usual, there is a lot of beautiful pics and tweets from concert attendees, waxing poetic about how good the show was and how proud of Louis they are. Typical fare for this fandom, nothing new to add.

I keep scrolling and I land an account, tweet sharing what looks like snippets from an "article" or "blog piece" (not sure which) from the "Medium". I stop dead in my tracks and read the multiple tweet thread of the most biased, vile drivel I've come across in a long time. And I've been here a while.

Firstly, opinions are just that, opinions. And this person's opinions are theirs and theirs alone but sadly, speak to a larger issue within music, the industry and the fandom experience itself.

This writer attended a Louis show with a friend who was a fan. Their only "knowledge" of him coming from this friend & any indirect knowledge because of his time in One Direction. But from the outset, the writing and pov, comes off immediately biased and judge-y.

"a sea of teeth in braces, puffy cheeks and pigtail buns" - commenting on the appearances of the young fans - note - very young fans "Most attendees are too young to drink legally". Because that's what matters about attending a show. Moving on.

"There are no dancers, there is no set piece, there is no stage show, no performance, no outfit changes"

Every artist curates their live show for themselves & their fans. To achieve the best possible experience and set expectations of how the night is going to go.

Louis has no illusions here. He is not "the greatest showman that ever lived" and HAS NEVER PRETENDED to be. He is a straightforward musician who's job it is to sing and engage with the fans. Which he does. For anyone paying attention, he's definitely come a very long way from those 1st early shows and is far more relaxed than he was back then. BUT and this is a huge but, to see and understand this, you have to know his journey and his story, which this person does not (though she does allude to knowledge of AOTV).

She even comments on it by calling him "the least memorable person in a lineup of five" the very criticism he levelled at himself. It's a gut punch to read a rando say something like this, which, we as his fans know, is something he had always been made to feel like while he was in the band, despite most of the 1D fans acknowleding the loved Louis, as did all the guys. Niall, calling him "the glue; the guy who made sure they didn't lose the plot". This is all surface, she doesn't know really know or see him or his lost potential. Nor is she likley to care.

The other thing that I find troubling, aside from her personal views of his singing talent and lacklustre show and personality, is the comments levelled at fans and their enjoyoment/appreciation of 'good music'.

I won't get into the 3 "types of fans" that she describes present at the show she attended because it doesn't matter to the point of my rant (though is it pretty basic & lacking nuisance but I digress). The one label that did stick out was the "cheerleader fan" and her opinion that these fans are only here to support Louis - who by her own opinion and pov, stated was the least successful/memorable and "is forever defined against his more popular former band mate" for unknown reasons. I'm assuming she thinks they are here because they find him cute? Not sure.

"For the Underdog Cheerleaders, it’s not about music so much as it is about identifying with... the least memorable person in a lineup of five" because identifying with an artist is problematic? Dumb? Unimportant? Allow me to show you the stadiums filled with Taylor's fans, who all identify with her and her music.

That is sort of the fan's job. To support and champion their fave, especially when they are not given their proper due. Now I'm not mentioning TS and comparing her to Louis or vice versa, that woman has GOTTEN ALL HER FLOWERS and good for her, but she goes on to claim that "his lines are almost comically generic" speaking about his songwriting. This clearly tells me she wasn't paying attention or was at the bar or bathroom & must've been absent when Copy of a Copy of a Copy was performed. Or when he sang All this Time or Holding on to Heartache. Because you would have to be dead inside to not have had a reaction to the bridge of HOTH & not hear the emotion in his voice as exhales those words, "Nothing's ever easy, to be honest, I'm not easy on myself". Those lines cut me and left me bleeding on the side of the road when I first heard them. But you know, comicially generic. Whatever.

This entire article reads like a hit piece bought and paid for by some industry insider. She literally lists every critiques antis, toxic Harries and Swifties and even Simon himself have levelled at Louis over the years. But this article doesn't require a conspiracy theory to explain. She doesn't like Louis. Or his music. She finds him boring, and apparently isn't a "deep enough lyricist" for her cold, cerebal mind to engage with.

"I’m left wondering what all these thousands of young fans really care about...it doesn’t really seem to be about the music...at its innermost core, this fandom is about itself."

Let me first say this, music, like most are is subjective. It's personal taste. Some fans love country. Some love rock. Some love Classic metal punk with a side of Beethoven. It's music and because it is one of the most uniquie artforms, its enthusiasts will engage and appreciate it for different reasons. And one of the most amazing things about being a fan of music in this day and age, is fandom.

I am old as fuck. And I can genuinely say that being a fan of music since I was 8 years old and first discovered what the radio did in my parent's living room, I have been a fucking fan. But I grew up in a time where there were no online fandoms. No one to scream about Simon's cute outfit or Billy's snarling at an interviewer that one time, or dying with when Jon BonJovi cut his hair. It was a different fan experience back then. There was no online community. No fandom family to go through it with you when Wham broke up.

Fandom has always been controversial because it has always mostly been made up of young women. And young women have had their taste in music disrespected and vilified for decades (starting with the Beetles). Research it. So I find it kind of sad this writer questions why these fans love Louis and his music so much. Because the reasons don't matter. There are many or none. They just are. That's sort of how art works. You feel it. You don't really see it with your eyes but your mind. Your skins senses it before your heart does. And that is how music is or should be. It should not just be about catchy pop one liners or streams or charting. It's about how it makes you feel. The memories it in invokes when you hear a song many years later. It's the way we still remember the words to that one song from the summer during our 3rd year of high school. How do you quantify that? You can't.

I grew up during a very rich and varied musical landscape, so when I tell you that I have loved almost every genre of music, I have loved it for many, many different reasons. Sometimes (when I was younger) because the lead singer was cute and dressed nice and other times because the beat/bop was too good to ignore to not want to sing from the top of my lungs. NEVER ONCE DID I CARE IF THE LYRICS WERE "GENERIC" or that it wasn't popular among my friends or that it didn't fill my head with mythical imagery. If it made me happy and it entertained me, then it was enough for me. Not every artist is going to be Bob fucking Dylan or Taylor Swift. And that's okay. But Louis IS a great song writer and he himself has said he's not big on writing metaphors and cares more about conveying an emotion and a moment in time and we find that engaging. We are still moved when he sings "Saved by Stranger" or Paradise or Change. Because they are good songs that convey a particular moment, sentiment or emotion we can all connect with.

Look, I respect that not everyone is going to 'get' everyone's fave. I don't get Taylor Swift, but I can acknowledge that she has talent but I don't fucking need a show to enjoy her music. But she does that because SHE enjoys that and it definitely helps justify the cost of her tickets. No disrespect, I blame TM for that, mostly.

"To his credit, he really doesn’t pretend to be more than he is — that’s all other people‘s doing"

And that is sort of the point of him. He is not pretending to be something he is not. He is geniune and down to earth and not full of himself like so many other successful artists are and can be. He earned the right to put on airs coming out of 1D and their success. But he doesn't. He says, "this is who I am, take it or leave it" and for his fans, they take it, in spades.

So go read the article for context (or don't - it's probably better for you blood pressure & mental health) but understand that this one person's pov, is not going change who we are as a fandom. We see something in Louis that resonants with us. Maybe it's the "underdog" mentality. Maybe it's the 'cute lad from the north of England' vibe. Maybe it's his no nonsense approach to song writing and performing, but there is no denying there is something about Louis Tomlinson that draws you to him. You want to engage with him. You want to sing his songs. And you do. We all do.

So please, someone give this man his flowers. They are long fucking over due.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

What do you define as traditional femininity and masculinity? I don’t think it was bad that women were liberated. Not everyone wants to marry so she should have the right to be able to take care of herself and domestic violence was very high back then so an escape route for women was needed. I think we need higher wages and maybe fewer hours as a whole. Including more time for parental leave. I am curious though as a gay man, do you think two same sex parents lead a home life that is lacking?

First off, I don't see it as "liberation", hence the quotes I used in the last ask. All women's lib did was add more taxable income to the income pool and lead to children being raised by strangers and devices. It's a net negative for society and culture, even if some individual women benefited. I'm not saying women shouldn't be allowed to work, but in a family, only one parent should work full time.

Traditional masculinity is when a man takes responsibility for himself and his family. He provides for his children, treats his wife right, and leads by example. One of his main goals is to see his children lead a better life than he did. If he doesn't have a family, then he should do his best to leave society better than he found it. He should be strong, decisive, and hard working. He should be polite and well dressed. He should protect his family at all costs. He should be his wife's strongest supporter and advocate.

Traditional femininity isn't as different to traditional masculinity as you'd think. Femininity is not weak, it's just strong in different ways. Where a man is more attentive to the physical needs of his family, a woman should be more attentive to the emotional needs. She's the one the kids come to with their issues and their feelings. She maintains the house and does the chores the man can't because of his other responsibilities. She should be publicly modest. She should be unrelenting in defense of her family. She should be her husband's strongest supporter and advocate.

And despite me using the words "man and woman", masculinity and femininity aren't necessarily gender locked. A man can fill the traditionally feminine role, and vice versa. In a single parent family, the parent can potentially fulfill both roles, or another family member can step in to one of them. But the roles themselves are important, in my opinion. You need both influences to raise children right. And they're both ideals that everyone should strive for regardless of which role they want to fulfill.

As to the rest of your ask, higher wages and fewer hours would solve nothing. Assuming by "higher wages" you mean "all jobs raise their wages for all employees" you're basically arguing for an increased minimum wage which always results in higher prices, negating the entire point of raising it in the first place. Just throwing money at a cultural crisis isn't going to fix it. It needs to be fixed within the culture itself. People need to want to fix it. And sadly, most people won't even admit that there's a crisis.

Your claim that domestic violence was "very high back then" doesn't really have data to support it. Domestic violence wasn't even tracked until the 70s, so there's no real data before that, and the first organizations to track domestic violence were feminist activist groups, which have a political motive to inflate domestic violence against women and have a history of lying about women's suffering. The rate of domestic violence has gone down since the 90s, but that rate has mirrored exactly the rate of all violent crime falling, so there's no way to tell if that had anything to do with domestic violence laws being passed, or women being able to work, or any other specific factor other than society becoming less violent as a whole. As for domestic violence being mainly an issue of men beating women, that's just not true. Rates of perpetration are much closer between the genders, with female perpetrators exceeding male perpetrators in some demographics, such as high school students. Lifetime rates are higher against women, but in more recent years men have been victimized more.

Actually I'm just going to post that second link here, because there's a lot of interesting data to look through that shows domestic violence isn't as cut and dried as activists and tv shows try to make it out to be.

So the idea that women need to work in order to be "saved" from abusive husbands might be true in some cases, but it's not a society wide fact of life. And again, I'm not saying women shouldn't work ever. If a woman wants to leave an abusive man and she needs a job to do so, then she should get that job and leave that man. The problem here isn't with women being "kept out of the work place", it's with the whole society wide scam of "you need college and an unbroken work history to be qualified for any job", which is another society wide problem that must be fixed with a cultural shift that will take years, if not generations.

Finally, to answer your question about gay parents, I honestly don't know if gay parents are overall good or bad. All the studies that have been done that show either children of gay parents being worse off than straight parents, or vice verse, have methodology and/or sample size issues and they're all politically motivated. So I tend to disregard all of them. What I do see is entirely non-scientific, but there's a severe lack of proper morals in the gay community that I'm very wary of those people getting their hands on children. At the same time, the gay "community" doesn't represent all gay people. Not every gay person is a trans cultists or a sexual degenerate. But when those people are the public face of "LGBT", and there's no significant push back against that from the rest of the supposedly normal gays, it's not an unreasonable assumption that those kinds of behaviors are, if not practiced by most gays, at least seen as acceptable. Which is not okay and is not an environment children should be raised in.

[ziekaramaik]

This week, on "Life in Westview"

What do widows do all day, Sharon wondered to herself.

Her husband passed away recently. Her kids were all grown with kids of their own, and had gone back to their own towns after the funeral. Sharon was retired. There were a lot of empty hours to fill these days.

She sat on her sofa and searched through the channels on TV. Maybe she could find a nice, long movie. (Sharon was never much of a sitcom fan, even before you-know-what.)

Without a knock, her front door opened. And in walked Agatha Agnes, the only person in Westview who still thought they were living in a TV show. For once, she didn't have an exaggerated sitcom smile plastered on her face. Instead she had an exaggerated sitcom look of concern plastered on. "Hi, neighbor."

So this week, it was "Neighbor" instead of "Mrs Hart". Sharon could live with that. Though she never knew whether or not she should call Agnes by her real name.

With a small sigh, Sharon got up from the sofa to greet her. "I don't want to be rude, but I'm really not in the mood today."

Agnes nodded sympathetically. "I know, sweetheart. I won't stay long. I just wanted to drop this off." She lifted up a comically large tray wrapped in foil.

"I figure you won't be in the mood to cook much the next few days. But a girl's still gotta eat. So I made you lots of servings of my World Famous Chicken Casserole Surprise." In a stage whisper she added, "The surprise is that it's not really world famous." She paused for laughter from a studio audience only she could hear.

Sharon took the heavy tray from her. "Oh, well, thank you, dear. That's actually really sweet of you."

Sharon went and set it down on the kitchen counter. Then she took a quick peak under the foil to make sure it was a real casserole instead of a delusional acting prop. No, it was real food all right.

"So how are you holding up?" Agnes asked sadly.

"Oh. I'm hanging in there," Sharon answered.

"Of course you are. I want you know that if you need anything at all, just ask. What else are neighbors for?"

Then Agnes went into "Very Special Episode" mode for a few minutes. Talking about how death and grief were just a part of life that people have to go through. And Sharon would always have the happy memories of her husband. Only time could heal the wounds, but her friends would be there for support, and so on and so on.

It was all very fake and cliché, and a little bit nonsensical. It made Sharon think of a cheap script written by that newfangled AI stuff she heard about online. That's basically what it was: Agnes' words chosen by a spell on autopilot.

But if Sharon was totally honest, it was kinda nice having Agnes trying to comfort her. And it wasn't actually BAD advice. Sharon often felt sorry for the poor confused woman, but in the end Agnes was playing the role of a good neighbor.

Agnes continued with, "'Course, I never felt what you're going through. Just between us, when my Ralph left me, my first thought was, 'Took long enough.' He was a real downer at the end."

Sharon filed that information away. So this week, the cover story was that Ralph left Agnes, which was pretty close to what happened in reality. (Poor Ralph Bohner. Sharon always liked him, even if his puns were crude.) Agnes' delusional mind kept going back and forth on different explanations for why her "husband" wasn't around anymore, or if he ever existed at all.

"You never lost someone you really cared about?" Sharon asked.

And Agnes said… nothing. It seemed like she was about to say something, but she just stared instead.

"Agnes?" Sharon said.

No response.

"Hello?"

Her expression frozen, Agatha Agnes stared into space, a hundred miles away.

"Oh my gosh, I broke you!" Sharon panicked.

A moment later, Agnes snapped out of it. "No, I'm fine," she said with a big grin. "Well, I gotta get going. My garden's not gonna water itself."

She walked to the front door. "Remember, neighbor. If you need anything, you know where to find me." With a kind wave she walked out and closed the door behind her.

And Sharon went to the task of finding space in her fridge for that giant casserole tray.

[strangesthirdeye]

THE SERPENT AND THE RAVEN SERIES

PROLOGUE

chapter 1

The night mist moved slowly as the night sky was filled with stars. The moon lit up the quiet night on Privet Drive. The atmosphere is quiet, there is no sound of people or vehicles there because the neighborhood there is already asleep. Apart from the moon in the sky that illuminated the street, the street lamp that was towed on the shoulder of the road also illuminated the street but only for

a moment because it was extinguished by an old wise man with a long silver beard and dressed in a long robe. In his hand was a device that caused the lights on the shoulder of the road to go out.

Where did he come from? Don't know, he just appeared from the darkness. He is tall and thin, with a silver beard long enough to

tuck into his belt. He wears a purple cloak and is roughly one hundred and fifty years old. He is Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He turned the device on his hand towards the last light which also went out. He turned, spies a cat, sitting on the wall of Number Four. He smiles knowingly.

"I should have known you'd be here, Professor McGonagall." Dumbledore muttered in his gruff voice.

The cat looked at the headmaster before leaping forward. The cat transfigured itself into a rather severe looking woman. She's old too but not old enough just like Dumbledore. She wears an Emerald cloak around her thin body and wears a crooked hat.

"Are the rumors true, Albus?" McGonagall asked, approaching Dumbledore.

Dumbledore just smiled faintly at that. "I'm afraid so. The good. And the bad."

"And the twins?" McGonagall looked expectantly at Dumbledore.

"Hagrid's bringing them" Dumbledore replied.

"You think it's wise...to trust Hagrid

with something as important as this?" McGonagall said, standing next to him.

"I would trust Hagrid with my life,

Professor." Dumbledore insisted.

A low rumble disturbed the skies. Dumbledore and McGonagall looked up and suddenly a huge motorcycle plummets through

the clouds, hits the ground with a thunderous roar. As the smoke clears, a figure climbs off. He is Hagrid and is, quite obviously, a giant. In his vast, muscular arms, he

holds a bundle of blankets.

“Ev'ning, Professor Dumbledore, .sir.

Professor McGonagall." greeted Hagrid as he walked closer to the two.

"No problems, I take it, Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, sir. Little tyke fell asleep as we were flyin' o'er Bristol.. though, this 'un is wide 'wake the whole time" Hagrid said, gesturing towards the little bundle in his arms that held a baby girl who is wide awake. He then walked over to the motorcycle and picked up another bundle of blankets that held a baby boy who was still sleeping soundly.

McGonagall moved to take the baby girl from Hagrid's hand while Dumbledore took the baby boy.

McGonagall gasped soundlessly as soon as she got a better look at the baby girl in her arms. "Albus, her eyes"

Dumbledore moved to McGonagall before he shook his head. " After effect of Killing Curse. Her eyes is not blind but will remain like that. And so was the scar on this boy's forehead"

Her eyes. What Dumbledore meant was that her right eye was white like a blind person while her other eye was E/c. Just like Dumbledore said, she's not blind but her eye will remain like that forever.

The three of them walked to a house. They stood in front of the doorstep. The girl cooes lowly in McGonagall's arms. McGonagall smiles sadly at her.

"Albus, do you really think it's best to leave him here; with these people? I've been

watching them all day. They're the worst sort of Muggles imaginable. They're-"

"-The only family they have" Dumbledore cut her off.

"But this twins will be famous. There won't be a child in our world who doesn't know their name.. " McGonagall said.

"Exactly. It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before they can walk and talk. Famous for something they won't even remember. No. they'll be much better off growing up away from all that. Until they are ready." Dumbledore explained.

Dumbledore moved and put the boy on the mat in front of the doorstep. McGonagall hesitated to place the girl but after Dumbledore gave her a look, she relented and placed the girl next to her twin. She looked at the girl and the boy sadly. If only she could take the twins away, she would have done it a long time ago. But she can't.

Hagrid sniffled while dabbing a handkerchief on his wet cheeks. Dumbledore looked up at him while patting his tough shoulder. "There, there, Hagrid. It's not really goodbye, after all." he said reassured.

Hagrid nodded. Dumbledore then tucked a parchment envelope and placed it on the baby girl who was still awake and made a sound to the three adults as if she didn't want them to leave.

Dumbledore took a few steps back. His face suddenly turned serious as he looked at the two infants. "Good luck Harry and Y/n Potter"

[drdemonprince]

A bit late to the party and a tad bit longer than planned(sorry), but I dream of programming my own living sex toy.

We would be roommates, my flat (that's the most unrealistic thing about the scenario right here lol) that I rent very cheap near a college so I can pick the hottest person applying, ideally a new student so no family or friends here. Once they move in I slowly start manipulating them. Playing hypno audios when they sleep, putting light aphrodisiacs in their food, gaslighting them on progressively bigger things to get them relying on me more and more.

I want to pretend to be their friend and have long talks where I slowly convince them that their family is abusive and they should cut contact. It would be easy considering I am already blasting them on many other fronts and at that point they would be too stressed trying to keep up with college, while becoming too dumb and horny to offer much resistance. I hope they do though just so I can stop the argument via hypnotically dropping them and leaving them more untethered and confused than before. I actually want them to freak out while we fuck so I can stop, keep my cock in them and see how the ,by then intense, programming slowly pulls them under again and they start rocking into it. Actively see the fight disappear.

Once it is in deep the actual toy part begins. I want to programm certain settings into it so via simple triggers I can have it switch between modes. Sometimes I would want an actual doll, no ability to move themselves, sometimes a puppy desperate to be filled, maybe even allow it some higher function back so I can have it work when I don't need it.

The power of having someone utterly under my control is the obvious kink here but far hotter to me would be the knowledge that it was involuntary and that I programmed it. The ensuing sex isn't the main focus. I would want the toy to respond like it's enjoyable, seeing it in pain sparks no joy, the hotness comes from knowing it only enjoys it because I programmed it like that.

That's why I want to be able to sometimes "reset" it only to pull it down again. That moment in it's eyes when it glides into trance would be the hottest thing ever. I would always want it to feel pleasure, the catch being that the pleasure wouldn't be there without my programming. Also the thought of a hypersensitive toy coming simply from pleasuring me or me telling it to come is hot.

This is also why I won't look for a CNC partner for now. Having an actual human involved that could resist and judge takes away a lot of the appeal. My main source of shame isn't wanting to corrupt, it's wanting to have an actual human following my every command and order instead of having a partner I share equal responsibility with and of whom I take care when they need it (instead of putting a dildo in them and storing them away when useful). That said I actually want that equal living together too, I would just not have sex with that person, because vanilla sex holds no appeal to me and I actually do care about consent IRL.

Sadly I have a hard time finding good hentai or comics where the main focus is the corruption itself not the fucking afterwards but I make do.

Anyways, thanks for letting us share these things. Some of the other asks that were sent in were incredibly hot and it was nice actually writing my fantasies down for the first time and claiming them as mine, not just a fic I wrote as a prompt.

ANON YOU ARE KILLING ME THIS IS THE HOTTEST SHIT EVER. this is one of my top fantasies. and largely what some of my favorite hypno erotica that i've written is about. i wanna live this scenario for real. this is why i'm saving for an early retirement dog. so i can be someone's brainwashed live in hole. hit me up when you are emotionally prepared to be a 24/7 sadistic owner for real

okay. im gonna compose myself. thank you for sharing. but seriously call me

[drpeppertummy]

[hunger, stuffing, tummyache, tummy rubs]

Sunny's belly rumbled loudly. He looked up at Laurie with puppydog eyes, arms wrapped around his aching stomach. The two had been out running around all morning trying to accomplish what seemed like an endless list of tasks, and Sunny, who'd woken up late and hadn't had time for breakfast, hadn't eaten a thing all day. Now, it was nearly noon. He was absolutely starving, and beginning to get a headache. Laurie, who'd had the foresight to eat before picking up her diminutive friend, wasn't hungry in the slightest, but he'd been begging her for the past hour to stop somewhere for lunch. With a sigh, she finally agreed.

"Let's make this quick, alright?" she said as she pulled into the diner parking lot. Sunny's stomach growled in response, as if to make it clear that he had no intention of fooling around. Once they were seated, however, it became apparent that lunch wasn't going to be a simple task. He was quick to order the most absurd sandwich on the menu. It was a cartoonishly enormous heap of assorted meats--from the picture, Laurie could make out at least two hefty burger patties and what looked like a massive hunk of pork--generously decorated with just about every topping in the book and stacked precariously between two thick slabs of bread. The waitress seemed amused both at the idea of a tiny thing like Sunny eating that monster sandwich, and at Laurie's exasperation when he ordered it.

"Sunny, we still have stuff to do. Don't eat the whole thing, alright?"

"What?" He looked sadly at her. "I'm dyin', Laurie! I haven't eaten anything all damn day!" His tummy growled pitifully in agreement.

"That thing's gonna be bigger than your head! You're gonna give yourself a stomachache," she said. "Save half for dinner, it'll probably still be too much."

Before Sunny could argue, the waitress returned with their lunch: a simple basket of chicken tenders for Laurie, and the sandwich of Sunny's dreams. The two of them stared wordlessly at it for a moment, astonished. In addition to what was easily enough meat for a family of four, there were two fried eggs, a revolting amount of cheese, and several unidentifiable sauces oozing down the sides, as well as a variety of healthy vegetables peeking out among the greasy mess. His stomach rumbled again, and he just barely caught his drool before it began dripping from his mouth.

"Sunny."

"Huh?" He looked up at her, pulled from his trance. "What, you want some?"

"Listen," Laurie said firmly, taking him by the shoulders. "Do not try to cram that entire thing into your stomach. It's bigger than you are."

"Since when are you the boss?" He gave her a defensive glare.

"Since right now. I'm declaring myself boss, because I know how you are. Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna take that as a challenge, because you're a complete child, and you're gonna eat as much of that sandwich as you can just to spite me, and then you're not gonna be able to do anything else all day because you're gonna make yourself sick like an idiot. Right?"

"I am not!"

"So cut it in half," she said. "You're still gonna have a bellyache, but maybe you won't be totally useless." Sunny looked grumpily at her.

"Fine," he muttered. "But only because I wanna have leftovers. Not because you told me to."

"Whatever," said Laurie, rolling her eyes. She picked up a chicken tender and left Sunny to his business.

Cutting the sandwich was a task in itself, as was picking it up. His stomach growled in anticipation as he tried to get a grip on it. Even half of the sandwich was far more than the average person could possibly eat in one sitting, but Sunny didn't care. He felt like he could eat a horse. At long last, after starving the entire morning, he shoved the gooey, meaty mess into his mouth. The feeling of the first bite hitting his empty stomach was divine, and he began wolfing the sandwich down as though his life depended on it.

With the massive onslaught of greasy meat and bread filling his belly, it wasn't long before Sunny was full. In fact, it was only about halfway through the enormous piece of sandwich that he found himself feeling stuffed. His stomach didn't hurt yet, but it was beginning to look and feel bloated. Still, the sandwich was as delicious as it was messy, and he knew if he put it down now, it would fall apart entirely. Additionally, he had no intention of wimping out in front of Laurie. He felt confident that he could put away the entire half, and he was determined to do so.

Laurie, still working on her own lunch, glanced over at Sunny. He was still wrestling with the sandwich, and didn't seem like he was giving up just yet, although he certainly looked stuffed. She looked down at his tummy. He was dressed in his usual fashion: a snug, colorful button down tucked into high waisted jeans, complete with a big flashy belt buckle to tie the look together. His tummy was bulging firmly against the already tight shirt, and the belt buckle was starting to press uncomfortably into it. Laurie sighed. She knew it was a mistake to lecture Sunny about the sandwich; she'd known it before even opening her mouth. He always seemed to feel like he had to prove something. She wasn't sure whether he was desperate to prove himself or just stubborn as a mule. Probably both. He was certainly stubborn, there was no denying that, but there was a certain insecurity underneath that stubbornness that she just couldn't figure out how to handle.

As he ate, Sunny's long-since-full stomach began to ache. The ravenousness that had gotten him here was long gone, and he had slowed down drastically. Each bite pushed him deeper into discomfort. Not wanting to quit, he pushed on, but eventually, he forced his stomach to his limit. He paused. There was only a little bit of sandwich left in his hands, and as badly as he wanted to, he wasn't sure he could finish it. He felt unbelievably bloated, as if the contents of his stomach were pushing out in all directions as hard as they could. Even inhaling was uncomfortable; his drum-tight belly could barely stretch to accommodate the breath. He glanced sheepishly up at Laurie, then back at his sandwich. Reluctantly, he set it down.

Laurie was surprised at Sunny's willing defeat, but refrained from making any comments, at least until the rest of the sandwich was safely packed up. The waitress brought him a box--you look just about ready to pop, she'd teased, and Sunny had blushed brightly--and the two were on their way. Although he'd quit willingly, Sunny had still failed to quit soon enough. Now, as he trudged alongside Laurie back to her decrepit minivan, he had to face not only the shame of being unable to finish his lunch, but the shame of proving her right as well. They got into the car and buckled up, but Laurie didn't drive. Instead, she turned to look at him, arms folded.

"You are absolutely ridiculous, you know that?"

"And?"

"And what? Look at yourself!" She prodded his distended belly. He winced and held his arms defensively over his stomach.

"And what nothin', I was hungry," he protested.

"Yeah, and now you're gonna be useless all day!" He looked up at her, hurt, and she immediately regretted her choice of words. Sunny could be many things--foolish, mouthy, cocky, immature--but useless wasn't one of them. In fact, he tried very hard not to be useless. He had a way of making himself annoying while doing it, but he was often willing to drop everything to help Laurie when she asked.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, her expression softening. "I didn't mean that." He looked away, unconvinced.

"Let's just go," he muttered. "We got stuff to do."

"No, we don't," she said. He looked at her again. "I've been running you around all morning. I think we both need a break. And your tummy looks like it could use some time to settle." Sunny couldn't argue with that. He felt queasy and bloated. In addition to being just plain stuffed, he'd eaten far too fast, and the greasiness of the meal was beginning to upset his already sore belly even more. Laurie reached over and undid his belt for him. He blushed, surprised, but didn't argue. He hadn't realized how tightly it had been squeezing his stomach until the pressure was relieved. She gave his belly a gentle pat and started the car.

Laurie drove back to Sunny's apartment, and the two went inside. Sunny immediately dropped himself onto the couch. Laurie sat beside him. His stomach let out a miserable gurgle. She looked at him for a moment, feeling sorry for him, then reached out and placed her hand on his belly. He looked up. He nearly opened his mouth to say something, but she began gently rubbing his belly, and he felt himself begin to relax. As cuddly as he was with his other friends, Sunny often found himself feeling nervous when it came to contact with Laurie. He adored having his tummy rubbed, though, and the touch was especially comforting when he wasn't feeling well. He sat still for a moment, then let his head rest against her shoulder. Laurie paused, surprised, then carefully pulled him into her arms, still rubbing. They sat together, silent apart from the occasional gurgle of Sunny's aching stomach, and as she continued softly massaging his tummy, he slowly melted into sleepy bliss.

[cilil]

rare pair bingo

AN: Pairing suggested by @elentarial. Thank you for that, super fun idea! I'm thinking this premise could be an entire fic which I sadly won't have time for right now, but it might be something for the list so... if you'd like to see more of this too let me know!

⸙ Prompt: Pet play | Dior x Amras ⸙ Synopsis: After attempting to sneak into Doriath and reclaim the Silmaril by himself, Amras falls into Dior's hands. ⸙ Warnings: The prompt itself (though nothing explicit going on) ⸙ Triple drabble | AO3

It had been a fool's errand, a desperate bid for glory and release from the accursed Oath alike, and Amras had already known it was futile — and what point was there to even try, without his twin by his side. 

Still, he had snuck away from his brothers and entered Doriath alone to seize the Silmaril, yet his path had only led him into the arms of Dior himself, awaiting him with calm poise and nonchalance. 

Now Amras knelt in front of Thingol's heir, bound by invisible ropes of awe and ancient magic alike. Dior was beautiful beyond words, the likeness of Elves, Men and Maiar shining in his face, enchanting as his mother was said to have been. 

Seeing how Amras' gaze filled with wonder, he caressed his hair. 

"Well met, son of Fëanor," Dior spoke in a voice that was quiet and melodious, yet held a hidden power that made his skin prickle in anticipation. "Have your brothers abandoned you to your fate or was this your own foolish idea?" 

Amras remained silent. Even if he'd had an answer, he found himself unable to form words.

Dior chuckled. "It matters little either way."

His caress turned into a firm grasp on the Noldorin prince's hair, and he pulled on it, forcing his head back until his throat was bared to him. Amras let out a helpless whimper, but the attack he was expecting never came — instead, something was swiftly and firmly fastened around his neck. 

A collar, he realised too late. 

"Whatever it may be, I shall accept this lovely gift from the House of Fëanor, kinslayers though they may be," Dior said, his eyes lighting up as he beheld his work. "I can tell that you will be a most delightful pet in my care, Amras Fëanorion." 

Thanks for reading! ♡

[niuttuc]

hey hi! i was wondering if you had any spicy tech ideas for Zoraline, Cosmos Caller. super interested in this lil bat and looking for some input! :3

I have some spicy tech, though it won't be that spicy because she's fairly open-ended. I've written at length about two of the cards I'll recommend first because I think they're excellent options in any white decks, but doubly so with Zoraline.

While I believe they're great ramp options for white, they also interact positively with Zoraline and each other. While Scholar can straightforwardly remove Finality counter from whatever Zoraline brings back, The Restoration of Eiganjo will remove it from itself after a couple turns when it blinks itself to transform.

... And Restoration of Eiganjo isn't the only 3 or less drop that exiles itself to transform, these two will shed their Finality counter upon transforming if brought back by Zoraline.

Thought we were done? Battles also exile themselves to flip. Dunno how heavy you'll go on bats, but the Holy Frazzle Canon can help a bit there, and isn't the worst removal to use at first... But Gobakhan is the true prize here. It flips with one attack from Zoraline, then can be sacced to make your board indestructible while buffing it, and then Zoraline can bring it back, and since it exiles to be cast when defeated, you can do that as many times as you want. Sadly, you can't attack the battle in the same attack you bring it back with Zoraline.

Similarly, these three aren't really spicy for me, they're just great cards for any deck in the color doing graveyard stuff, but I love them so might as well mention them.

I don't know how heavy you're going on bats, but bats fly, Zoraline flies, and Jackdaw Savior is already decent by itself. Assuming you got a good curve and are filling the graveyard (which I would do if I was running all these because 90% of them care about the graveyard), it's a pretty high floor, at least if there's not a ton of exile removal around in your meta.

Lazotep Quarry is a criminally overlooked land (from a monthago, but still), people play High Market just to have a sac outlet in their manabase, and for now this is even cheaper than that, and then it's also reanimation in your manabase!

Generally speaking, Blink is your friend to get rid of finality counters, and there'll likely be plenty of etb triggers to reuse in the deck you'll end up with, if it focuses on Zoraline's recursion.

Of course the deck could go into a completely different direction, and focus on the bats or lifegain half of Zoraline. In that case, the payoffs are much easier to search for though, since Zoraline gains life one by one, she'll trigger repeatedly anything on life gain. Pridemates, Well of Lost Dreams, the increases by one...

[velcrodoesstuffsometimes]

I thought you didn't believe in magic?

Villian is always in trouble. Especially with the government, it comes with villainly! What do you want them to do? Not rob a bank? Yeah right, what's the fun in living a normal life?

Although now, villian would much prefer one. Villian believed in a lot of things, like that breaking the law was fine if done morally good. What villian didn't belive in though, was magic.

Yet, here they were. Hoarding and hiding a magical creature in their sage house and once again, in trouble with the government.

"Am I bothering you?" The creature asks, hiding behind the sofa, only being visible by their eyes up.

"Bothering, no." Villian responds dryly, changing the channel on the TV to the news. The creature crawls up and plops itself down next to villian, leaving an awkward gap.

Thos creature is at least a foot smaller than the villian, but at least not as thin as it was a few months ago when villian found them bleeding out after a mission.

"Mmm are you sure? I can't help you out at all and this is the third safe house we've been to." The creature says quietly, voice laced with guilt.

"We are close to my works base, we're hidden, and we're fine." Villian responds dryly again, the creature is always so worried. Although they have all the right to be. It's hard to go outside with shimmering wings. Or wings in general really.

The creature only responds with a small high pitched sound, clearly not believing villian.

The news isn't filled with anything new. The weather, villians evil doing, heros company's good doing, a new creature being spotted- a new creature being spotted?

Villians attention is at it's peak now.

"CCTV cameras reportedly caught a small feathered creature roaming the back alley of a local bar just after villians attack on a government protected building. People wonder is it was just a person playing dress up, a new villian, or an unseen creature that escaped government lock."

Villian peaks at the small creature next to them. The creature stares wide eyed at the TV screen, mouth slightly agape. Villians turns their attention back to the TV and bites their lip.

What are they supposed to do? The creatures been under villians hiding for at least 3 months, but the image that was shown from the CCTV was undoubtedly creature. That footage couldn't have been new, creature doesn't go into the city.

"I'm sorry." The creature says. When villian lookd at them, they aren't looking back. Creatures hands are on their lap, and their eyes are roaming down at the small cat they'd found in the alley way.

"You went out?" Villian asks calmly, masking the slight anger and worry, they don't want to scare the poor thing.

"I-its just- i- well- i-I wanted to go out and-and- i-it was so nice yesterday I just thought that-t-that a small stroll- I didn't mean-" the creature stumbles over words, trying to give out an explanation. Villian nofices their hands are shaking.

"Hey, hey, stop." Villian places their hand on thw creatures shoulder. The creature stops talking but still won't look at villian. Villian decides to shut off the TV.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why did you go back to the alley?" Villian questions.

There's a small moment of silence, creature obviously being ashamed.

"You weren't here, I just wanted to go out. It was so nice yesterday and I even took the backways, I wore the jacket you had made for me too. I went back to alley to find my book." Creature explains sadly, their voice still lived with guilt.

"What book could be so important that you went back?"

"Book magic, it's easier for me to do ever since I escaped government hold."

Neither person speaks. Villian let's the words sink in, clearly angry that creature had gotten caught trying to get a book. Creature raises their head just enough to look at villian. Dispose the hair covering their eyes, villian could see creatures glossy eyes and their bottom lip shaking.

"I'm sorry.." Creature says, barely above a whisper, if the TV was still on, villian wouldn't even have heard it.

Villian removes their hand from the creatures shoulder and lays back on the couch. They run their fingers through their hair and sigh. What are they supposed to do?

What is creature is lying about the magic? Villian has never seen them do any magic, but they just said that they can only do book magic. Even if creature was lying about the magic, they clearly aren't human, more of a human with several animalistic features. Soft, fluffy, downturn ears aren't quite human. Neither is the long fluffy tail or the wings that are fairly large given creatures size.

None of it is human. So what is villian supposed to do now that creatures been seen on camera? If people speculated that creature was just a weird cosplayer then that would be good. Villian still doesn't believe the magic part, not until they see it themselves. Who knows if creature is gonna go out and not tell villian again?

That's when an idea pops in villians head.

"How about we go see supervillian?"

[exuberantocean]

Amelia Pond

I feel like it's appropriate that Amy Pond was a model. A model's job is to be looked upon, projected upon, but we generally never actually get to know who a model really is as a person (unless you happen to know them well irl).

I feel that Amy Pond tends to live her fictional little life vibrant and real and whole but projected upon by the characters around her and, sadly, often flattened by the audience themselves.

Amy fills roles for people. The Doctor loves her deeply, depends on her, she becomes His Person. But the Doctor has always had a strong tendency to keep his relationship with his companions on his terms. There's a certain degree in which he uses his travel companions and ends the relationships with them (if they make it long enough) on his terms with only a few exceptions. The Doctor talks about leaving her "because you're still breathing." He can't live his whole life with her. She could live her whole life with him; but he won't. He isn't willing to work this on her terms, he's not willing to let his image of her grow into an old woman.

Rory's not much better. He wants his wife and yeah, he loves her, but I also don't think Rory always sees her. He follows her because he wants her but, you know, he has the air of a man on a reluctant vacation that he finds just a little bit absurd but he's indulging the misses. (Granted, he also at least knows her enough to realize he can't stop her). But, I don't think he really ever understand or engages in the part of her that loves, craves, this endless adventure.

But, I think the part I find most tragic comes down to her loss of fertility, the loss of her baby. This is where I think the Doctor, Rory, but even more so the audience itself often fails her.

There's this false dichotomy out there prevalent in our culture and yes even within many feminist spheres themselves that's seems to believe motherhood and reproduction and antithetical to feminism. And I've seen the attitude from a lot of fans that seem to scoff that, you know, Amy was marketed like this independent/well rounded/feminist/whatever woman but then they made her a mother. Or they made her fall apart about her fertility issues.

And I find this so...heartless. I assume these people have never miscarried or had a stillborn or wrestled with infertility. And it is shocking how, when you do become a mother, a lot of feminist spaces you were once comfortable in can now feel unwelcoming.

The truth is being a mother, wanting to be a mother, doesn't make you less strong, less desiring of a fuller and richer life, less of a feminist. Less of whatever people thought Amy was supposed to be.

But you know, the tendency to see people lose sight of you and who you are as a full person once you become a mother? That's painfully, painfully real. As is the way people can't see how devastating the loss can be. For a lot of us, this feeling of loss can and does come with a sense that your broken and that you've less than a woman or that you're no good for others. And yes, much of that is probably influenced by sexism and misogyny which is why these women need feminism more than ever but...a lot of feminist circles just kind of reject "breeders." Not all, but far too many (and hey, look they tend to use the same kind of dismissive language as misogynistic men).

Yes, Amy left Rory because she thought he wouldn't want her now that she can't have kids. And everyone goes on about how shitty that makes Amy as a character. No one, not one comment have I seen about how shitty that makes Rory for failing to reassure her and let he know he loved her for more than just that. No one sits there and sees it as a failure on her part. No one sits there and talks about how much of feminism pushes this idea of a strong, independent woman devoted to her career/passions and how much the mainstream society sees women as just mother (little else) and how much women with fertility issues and miscarriages fall through the cracks between both ideologies into the abyss.

The real and true tragedy of Amy Pond is that we see her red hair and hear her smart quips and look at her in relation to the men in her life and yet somehow, we never really see her. We reduce her to just a line, long before we close on her tombstone. That's the real tragedy of Amy Pond.