#this is based on a real conversation fyi

[im-queen-of-the-black-forest]

✨Hot Girl Shit✨

Mountain: *showing Phantom a photo* My hair looked great at around 3 am!

Phantom: Why the FUCK were you up at three am?????

Mountain: Hot girl shit

Phantom: Noooooo!

[ifwerefree]

with all the anger in the land, how long before the judgement day?

[copperbadge]

There’s a passage in one of Dorothy Sayers’ novels, I think Gaudy Night, where Harriet says something to the effect of, “You think, if I can just get through this minute or day or week, everything will be fine, but once you do you’re faced with another minute or day or week that’s just as complicated and difficult, and life becomes one long string of surviving.” Which sounds bleak, but she’s talking about escaping that cycle and finding real stability, like overall it’s a positive passage. I really should look it up.

Anyway, I was thinking about it because I’ve been trying variations on my ADHD medication, based on conversations with my psych. I’ve found that I can’t do the 20mg-once-a-day often because if I’m not compensating for fatigue, then it just makes me scattered; 10mg twice a day is the best dosage for me in a consistent sense. (I’m also trying saffron extract, which sounds woo-woo but does in fact seem to have some clinical significance in testing; using it to supplement the 10mg is going well, using it on top of 20mg is not...helpful.) 

It involves a lot of self-reflection because ideally the Adderall would be a driving force behind me getting stuff done, but there are still days where I take it and feel very low initiative. Frequently, I don’t even notice that I think of something to do and then do it, which has not been traditionally the way my life works, it’s just not as consistent as I’d like.  

But I’m noticing that on the days when it’s still hard to start stuff, I feel this weird, effusive sense of wellbeing when I finish things. It turns out when you accomplish a task it’s supposed to feel good. Generally, when I accomplish a task, it hasn’t felt anything -- it’s felt like Harriet, saying “Well, I just have to get through this” and then having to face something new to get through once the first task is done. But now, when I clean out my inbox or put dishes away or finish a work task...I feel good, I feel accomplished.

No real point in saying this other than to document it, but as an FYI to people who are considering getting a diagnosis, or diagnosed but not yet sure about taking medication, if you can’t start shit or don’t feel good when you finish shit, there are apparently other ways to live. I’m as shocked as anyone. 

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Once Upon A Grimm (2/?)

Summary: The world was far more complex than most people realized. Humans went about their lives, completely ignorant of the fact that there was a world of fairytales existing right alongside them. Well, not really fairytales. Not in the Disney sense, anyway. Many, like the Grimm brothers, had woven the truth into their stories, but the creatures they wrote about were even more nightmarish than their macabre and monstrous depictions. Creatures known as wesen. Supernatural, other-worldly beings who have always lived among humans and have always been hunted by those who had come to be known as Grimms. A struggle of secrecy, balance, and power among these species has existed since the beginning of time. This is a story of a man with his own struggle. The internal struggle of being a human, a wesen, and a Grimm, and the external forces that seek to eradicate one or all of his natures, especially those he tries to keep hidden. Fortunately, Killian Jones is not alone in his struggles nor his secrets. His personal savior, Emma Swan, has secrets and struggles of her own.

A/N: This fic is inspired by and will borrow from the NBC show Grimm. I confess I did not watch Grimm when it first aired, but absolutely fell in love with the show during a binge fest years later. If you have not seen the show, no worries! My beta - who has not seen the show either - assures me that it is not necessary. If you have seen the show, then I hope you’ll forgive the huge creative license I am taking with the material. This is not a strict Grimm retelling with Once characters. This is my own spin on the lore and cannon of both shows.

Sorry I am so late with this update. I underestimated how demanding real life was gonna be now that we are back in full swing with school. I'll do my best to stay on track going forward!

I cannot express how much I have enjoyed being a part of the @cssns all these years. Thank you to the mods who have kept it going year after year. We've had a terrific run! Huge shout out to @kmomof4 for always being my cheerleader and for her exceptional beta skills. A HUGE thank you and many fangirl squeals to my artist @eastwesthomeisbest for the amazing job she did on the cover art that accompanies this fic. Please go show her some love!

FYI: Because the show took cues from the Grimm brothers’ works, much of the vocabulary associated with the supernatural creatures was based on German or German coded language. For words like wesen and woge (which will be explained in the text) the w is pronounced with a v sound on the show. I’ll be using terminology from the show and more common creature names interchangeably within the fic.

Rated E (eventually) / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  / Prologue

Chapter One

Two and Half Years Later…

“What have we got?”

Killian approached the scene with his partner, Robin. Their mate and uniformed officer, Will, brought them up to speed, keeping his voice low as the men conversed on the walkway that led to the grand house towering before them.

“Grace Hatter. Eight years old. Never made it to school this morning,” Will informed them, reading over his notes. “Father says she left the house at a quarter to eight like usual. An hour later he got the call from the school telling him she was absent.”

“Do we know if he’s clean?” Killian asked, assessing the distraught man who was being questioned by other officers.

“No,” Will replied. “Dad’s name is Jefferson Hatter. We're looking into him.”

“Mom?”

“Deceased.”

“Okay. Thanks, mate. We’ll go have a talk with him.”

Killian and Robin continued up the walkway. When the father caught sight of them, he rushed down the front steps to meet them halfway.

“Are you the detectives?”

“Yes, sir,” Robin responded. “Detectives Locksley and Jones. Can you tell us more about your daughter? When you last her? What she was wearing?”

“Yeah, um…” The man took a moment to try and compose himself. His hand shook as he brought it up to run down his face. A shuddering breath filled his lungs and a sob caught in the back of his throat. “She uh, she left here about 7:45. She’s wearing purple leggings and an oversized, purple top that has a white rabbit on the front of it. She also had on a red hoodie and her backpack is pink and purple with her name on it.”

“Does she often walk by herself to school?”

The man, Jefferson, nodded, tears welling in his eyes. “Ever since the beginning of the school year. She wanted… She wanted to be a big girl this year.” He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the freshly fallen tears drops from his face. “I was reluctant, but the school isn’t far and normally she walks with another little girl and her brother down the block.”

“But not today?” Killian inquired.

“No,” Jefferson answered. “Ava and her brother are both out sick this week. Grace walked alone yesterday, so I didn’t see an issue with her walking alone again today.” His face reddened, the tears now cascading down his cheeks as he pleaded, “Please. You have to find my little girl, please!”

“We’re going to do everything we can,” Robin promised him, digging a card from his pocket. “An officer is going to stay with you as we canvas the neighborhood, but if you think of anything else, give us a call.”

“Th-Thank you, detectives,” Jefferson said, taking the card then following one of the officers back to the house.

“So, what do you think?” Robin said under his breath as they turned back towards the street and surveyed their surroundings.

“If he’s involved then he’s an excellent actor,” Killian replied. “I think it more likely she was grabbed on her way to school. The question is… where?”

The street was lined with houses on one side, facing a wooded park area. The little girl would have made her way to the end of the block then turned to go around the woods. The school was located on the other side, about seven blocks away.

“We’ve spoken with all the neighbors who are home along the route she would have taken,” Will said, joining the detectives. “No one saw anything.”

“Maybe she didn’t take the usual route,” Killian said, jutting his chin towards the woods. “Maybe she took a shortcut.”

“Dad was very specific about the route,” Will told him. “He said Grace wasn’t allowed to cut through the woods.”

“Yeah, and we all know you did everything you were told when you were a kid,” Robin quipped, slapping Will on the back before heading towards the woods.

The three of them followed the worn path, carved out of the foliage by those who had used the woods as a shortcut over the years. Although focused on the task before him, Killian could not help but acknowledge how fortunate he was to do this job with his two best mates at his side.

It had been a series of unfortunate events that had led them here. Two and half years ago, he and Robin had been uniformed officers at different precincts and Will, after washing out of the academy years before, owned a local bar. After being attacked and having his life, once again, turned upside down, Killian had spiraled a bit. Neglectful of his duty and spending too much time at Will’s bar had made him a less than stellar candidate for detective, despite his high scores on the exam. However, everything changed once more the night Will’s bar went up in flames.

Though it had been deemed arson, they still weren’t sure how it had happened. The explosion and fire claimed the lives of more than a dozen officers and detectives from both Storybrooke and Glowerhaven. In the aftermath, personnel had been reshuffled, reassigned, and reevaluated, giving Killian a second chance at a detective slot and transferring Robin to the Storybrooke precinct. Will, determined to bring the perpetrator to justice, had reapplied to the academy and finished top of his class before being assigned to the Storybrooke PD.

Although the arson case had gone cold, Killian and Robin, with an assist from their favorite uniformed patrolman, had managed to garner the highest number of closed cases of any rookie or veteran detectives within the city or its outlying suburbs. Robin often joked that the reason the three of them were so good at this job was because in another life they would have been criminals themselves - and therefore knew how their perps thought - dubbing themselves the pirate, the bandit, and the thief.

Of course, he had no idea that Killian possessed abilities beyond those of a normal human detective which gave him an advantage. Abilities he was currently applying in the hopes of bringing this little girl home safely.

When the trail forked, the trio branched off in separate directions. Once out of sight from his mates, Killian crouched down and closed his eyes, homing in on the sounds around him as he inhaled deeply. Over the years he’d made peace with his wolf side. It wasn’t always easy to keep the wesen reined in, or explain away how he’d been able to accomplish some of the things his supernatural abilities allowed him to do, but as time went on he found ways to balance his human and wesen side.

Not able to pick up anything out of the ordinary, Killian resumed his search further up the path. A moment later, Robin’s voice called out.

“I’ve got something!”

Killian rushed towards Robin’s voice, arriving alongside an out of breath Will. Both men were too focused on the pink and purple backpack laying among the ferns to notice Killian’s lack of exertion.

“Grace Hatter.” Will read the name where it had been monogrammed in bright pink, confirming it belonged to their missing girl. “She must have been grabbed somewhere in this area.”

“Careful where you step,” Killian reminded them. “Will, call it in and inform the others that we have a crime scene in Wonderland Woods Park across from the victim’s house.”

Will stepped away to radio it in, leaving the detectives to peruse the area.

“Killian, we got boot prints here. They look fresh.”

Killian noted the direction of the prints and commented, “He took her this way.” Setting off down the path, he shouted over his shoulder, “Stay with Will until CSU arrives. I’ll see where the prints lead.”

Once out of sight, Killian crouched down again and took in a deep breath. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention and a primal growl rumbled in the center of his chest. He could tell the scent was wesen, although he wasn’t sure what species. There was something vaguely familiar about it, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

Never before, since his transition, had he ever wished for the moon to be in its full cycle. If it were, then his sense of smell would be stronger. He’d be able to discern the little girl’s scent better, as well as her abductor’s, and he’d be able to tell which direction the two had gone once they’d reached the road on the other side of the woods.

Cursing under his breath, Killian made his way back to Robin and Will. The Crime Scene Unit had already arrived and the area was being cordoned off so they could work making casts of the boot prints. Killian eyed Grace’s backpack as it was being bagged and tagged so it could be processed for fingerprints. He wished he’d gotten a chance to scent it, but the K-9 unit was already seeing to the task.

“There isn’t much more we can do here,” Robin told him. “Will and the other officers will follow up on the neighbors they didn’t get a chance to speak with earlier. Maybe one of their security cameras will have caught them coming out of the park.”

“Aye,” Killian said with a resigned sigh.

Clapping Killian on the back, Robin suggested, “Let’s go get some lunch. By the time we’re done, more evidence will have been collected and processed, then we can focus on whatever they found.”

“I suppose I could eat,” Killian relented. Robin was right. There was nothing more they could do that the other officers didn’t already have handled. They��d need their strength and their wits about them for the long afternoon and evening ahead. “Where did you have in mind?”

“How about Aesop’s?”

Killian cocked a brow his partner’s way. “Aesop’s? A bit swanky for lunch isn’t it?”

Robin shrugged. “I hear they have a great burger menu.”

“Mhmm,” Killian hummed. Something in Robin’s demeanor had him dubious as to whether that was the real reason. “I suppose we could check it out,” he replied with a shrug of his own, followed by a wolfish grin. “So long as you’re buying.”

~/~

“So that’s the real reason you wanted to come here,” Killian ribbed in a sing-song tone. “The lovely and elusive Miss Mills.”

Robin’s cheeks flamed pink behind the bun of his burger as he took as long as he possibly could to bite off then chew a mouthful.

“You know this constitutes stalking, right? Why not just ask her out?”

Robin swallowed and chased the bite with a sip of water, once again taking his time running his napkin over his mouth before placing it back in his lap.

“You’re hopeless,” Killian exasperated, getting up from his seat. He shot a wink over his shoulder to his mortified partner as he approached the nearby table, teeming with lawyers in their power suits. “Miss Mills?” he said in a feigned tone of surprise.

“Detective Jones,” she said in a friendly yet reserved greeting. “Funny running into you here?”

“Aye,” he said. “The lunch burger menu was recommended to Robin and me, so we thought we’d give it a go.” He gestured back towards the table Robin was metaphorically trying to hide beneath. Miss Mills - Regina - gave him a wave which he awkwardly reciprocated. “I won’t keep you,” Killian continued. “I was on my way to the facilities when I spotted you and just wanted to say hello. Enjoy your lunch.”

“Thank you, detective. A pleasure seeing you,” she replied, though her attention was not set on him but rather still subtly fixated on his partner.

When Killian exited the lavatory hall on his way back to the table, he slowed his steps and his lips twitched up in a smile. Robin and Regina were standing at the table conversing as the prosecutor’s colleagues were filing past, on their way out the door. Regina slipped Robin her card, her painted lip caught between her teeth, and he accepted it with a full, bright smile. Killian chuckled to himself, eager to take the mickey out of his friend, when something in Regina’s countenance shifted.

She’d turned towards the door, prepared to follow her colleagues, when her entire body went rigid. Something rippled through her expression and Killian was taken aback by what he saw.

She woged.

Regina Mills was… a hexenbeist?

No. He had to be seeing things. She couldn’t have woged. If she had, the entire restaurant would be in an uproar, especially Robin. There’s no way anyone would have missed the gruesome sight of a hexenbeist revealing her true form. Unless…

No. That wasn’t a possibility either. The full moon wasn’t in cycle yet, so there was no way he could have witnessed a demi-woge. Could he?

Regina’s features returned to normal, but her posture was still stiff and on guard. He followed her eyes to try and determine what had prompted such a response and was stunned to see another woged hexenbeist casually standing by the hostess stand. She had flaming red hair and was dressed in a tight, green dress. When her human face presented itself once more, she wore a smug, slightly challenging smirk.

Finally collecting herself, Regina marched past the woman without a word or backward glance, but the red-haired witch watched her all the way out the door and down the block.

“Did you see that?”

Robin’s question shook Killian from his shock, but a fresh, confused panic spiked within him. “See what?”

“The text,” Robin said, lifting his phone for Killian to see. “We’ve got a body.”

“A body?” Killian parroted, attempting to get his racing heart under control while processing what his partner said.

He didn’t see it, then. Didn’t see them change. Then why did I?

“Not Grace Hatter?” Killian’s heart dropped a little as his mind finally caught up.

“No,” Robin assured him. “Not the missing girl, but the captain wants us to take point on this one, too.” He beckoned Killian to follow him through the tables towards the exit. “I’ve already settled the bill. Will’s waiting for us at the scene.”

Before heading out the door, Killian scanned the restaurant for the red-headed hexenbeist, but saw no sign of her. He tried to shake off the unnerving feeling her and Regina’s woge had elicited in him. The mystery of why he had been able to see it at all would have to wait. He had more pressing issues to concern himself with.

~/~

“Are you sure this is even a homicide?” Killian heard Will ask under his breath. “Looks more like an animal attack?”

For the second time that day, Killian’s hackles rose. The scene before him was familiar. Too familiar. He could remember, as though it were yesterday, making the same inquiry to the detectives working a similar scene. A scene that had led to Killian being attacked and transformed. A scene that had been declared an animal attack after the DNA had come back as inconclusive. A scene where no other evidence had been left behind except…

“We got a boot print!”

Killian’s entire body reacted in a ripple of goose bumps and a sharp inhale confirmed the truth as a familiar scent penetrated his sinuses.

It’s him! He’s back. The blutbad who attacked me. The blutbad who made me. He’s back and he’s killed again. He’s killed again and… HE’S TAKEN GRACE HATTER!

“Oi! Kill, er… detective. You alright?”

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost, mate.”

Killian’s Apple apple bobbed painfully. “We need to go see the Captain. Now.”

It was a quick ride back to the precinct, though Killian’s silent stewing had probably made it feel longer to his partner. Robin knew him well enough to not pepper him with questions when he was like this, allowing him space to get his thoughts together. It didn’t mean his mate didn’t side-eye him with furtive glances the entire way back to the station, though.

“Captain Gold, do you have a minute?” Killian asked at the open doorway of their captain’s office.

“For my two best detectives? Of course,” Captain Gold said, gesturing them forward. “How’s the investigation going into the missing girl? Or is this about the body we found? A jogger who was a student at the local university?”

“Actually,” Killian hedged, still unsure how he was going to convince his captain and his partner of what he knew to be fact. “It may be about both.”

“Go on.”

Killian and Robin took a seat in front of the captain’s desk. Leaning forward, Killian began to fill them in on what he’d pieced together.

“A little over two years ago, there was a hiker who was attacked in a similar fashion to how we found the jogger today.”

“I remember,” Gold said, nodding his head. “That was ruled an animal attack, wasn’t it?”

“Aye,” Killian said. “The DNA was inconclusive, but that wasn’t the only evidence left at the scene.” Flicking his eyes towards Robin, he said, “There was a boot print. Just like the one at the scene today. And that’s not all…” Sitting back, Killian wiped his hand down his face and let go a heavy breath. “The same day the hiker was attacked and killed, a little girl went missing in Glowerhaven.” Robin’s eyes widened and Killian knew he didn’t need reminding, but the Captain still needed to know. “I know because Robin helped work that case and we were mates back then.” Setting his attention back on his captain, Killian continued. “Look. I’m not saying all these cases are connected, but we did find boot prints where we suspect Grace Hatter was abducted, and it all feels a little suspect to just be coincidence.”

Captain Gold tented his fingers in front of him, and his eyes narrowed at Killian. “I’m inclined to agree,” he said, after a few agonizing seconds. “It’s all too coincidental to not look into.” His eyes shifted to Robin. “Locksley, reach out to Glowerhaven and see if you can get a copy of the missing girls file from two years ago. Check it for any similarities to the Grace Hatter case. Jones,” he continued, focusing his attention back on Killian. “Follow-up on the boot print. See if the one from the hiker’s scene matches the jogger’s, then compare it to the ones we found at the abduction site.” With a dismissing nod, he added, “Keep me informed.”

“Yes, Captain,” the two detectives replied on their way out of Gold’s office.

“How did you put all of that together?” Robin asked. “Remembering that girl from more than two years ago who went missing the same day a hiker was mauled? I don’t think I would have put that together.”

“I don’t know,” Killian deflected. “Something about that night just… stuck with me, I guess.”

“Well, good pick up,” Robin said, clapping him on the back. “I’m gonna call GPD, then head over to collect those files. Check in later?”

“Aye,” Killian told him. “Later.”

It took Killian less time to confirm the boot prints were a match at all three scenes than it did for Robin to make it back with the files. Although it proved the crimes may be connected, the boots that matched the prints were a very common brand. It would be nearly impossible to find their suspect that way. Frustrated, Killian shot off a text to Robin and Will, letting them know he was gonna go out for some air.

There had to be a way of finding this monster.

Not that he hadn’t already tried. He’d gone back to the scene of the hiker’s mauling time and time again in search of any clues, hoping to discover the identity of the killer and the wesen who had turned him. Once the case had been cleared from homicide, investigators believing a wolf or mountain lion had caused the grizzly death, there had been little Killian could do inside the law. He’d been too preoccupied with the changes he was facing as a newly made wesen to pursue the blutbad on his own, and too worried about what his brother’s reaction might have been if he’d turned the case over to a Grimm. A Grimm who might have been able to detect such changes in his little brother.

Now, he couldn’t help but feel as though the jogger’s death and the missing girl were his fault. He should have told Liam about the rogue blutbad or gone after it himself.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake this time.

Digging his phone from his pocket, Killian dialed his brother’s number and held his breath as the call rang.

This is Liam Jones. I’m not available to take your call. Leave me a message.

“Liam. It’s Killian. Call me back. I’ve got a situation here that might require your expertise.”

Typical.

Killian’s phone vibrated in his hand. He glanced at the screen, expecting it to be Liam returning the call. Instead, the caller ID displayed Will’s name. Killian knew he’d been pouring over videos collected from neighborhood cameras, and he was eager to hear if he’d found anything that might help them locate the missing girl.

“Will? What you got?”

“Not much,” Will confessed over the phone. “I’ve checked all the cameras we collected from Tweedle Drive, the street the perp would have exited the woods from, and there’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Nothing?” Killian asked, defeated. “From the whole street?”

“Well, there’s a bit we don’t have footage of, but none of the videos show any car, truck, or van he may have used to move the girl. The only vehicle on the street at that time was the mail truck.”

“The mail truck?” Killian repeated, an idea coming to him. “Do me a favor. Find out who was working that route today and whether the postal service issues a certain type of boot for their employees' uniforms.”

“You think it was the postman?”

“It’s the only lead we’ve got,” he told Will. “If nothing else, the postal worker may have seen something. We should track them down as a potential witness.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

“Text me the name when you’ve got it.”

“Will do.”

A renewed rush of hope filled Killian as he made his way back to the precinct, but it was hindered by a fresh realization.

If the postal worker did turn out to be their suspect, then he wouldn’t be going up against their usual perp. He’d be going up against a wesen. A blutbad. And not just any blutbad… his sire. The one who had turned him. Would he know? Even without the full moon bringing out his wesen characteristics, would his sire be able to tell what he was?

Killian stopped short of the station door and did an about face. He needed to better prepare himself for this confrontation, and there was only one person who would be able to help him do so.

Searching his contacts as he made his way to his vehicle, he prayed this call would not go to voicemail.

His prayer was answered.

“Hello?”

“Swan. It’s me. I need your help.”

~/~

The fingers of her left hand drummed against the counter as the nails on her right were being assaulted by her teeth. Normally, Emma Swan would not allow a situation to unnerve her this way. Of course, it wasn’t the situation, not really, it was the man involved in the situation. The man who only came in once a month to pick up his wolfsbane tonic and share polite pleasantries with her or her brother, who assisted her at the shop. The man who had agreed to keep things between them strictly professional after the one time thing incident that had occurred early on in their association. The man who had kept to that promise… until now.

He wasn’t coming here for his tonic - the full moon was still over a week away. He wasn’t coming here for tea, or spices, or herbal remedies, or anything within the purview of her business. No. He was coming here because he needed help on a case. He was coming here because he had nowhere else to turn. He was coming here because he needed… her.

Although they had managed to keep one another at arm’s length these past two years, it hadn’t been that way at first. The month following his attack and introduction into the wesen world, they had texted and chatted numerous times, having built a rapport by the time of the next full moon.

A rapport that simmered with attraction and temptation.

Fortunately, they had both understood the seriousness underlying his stay with her during that first full moon. Setting aside the obvious chemistry between them, they focused instead on the alchemy of finding the right balance of wolfsbane. Everything had gone as expected… until it hadn’t.

“Emma, sweetie,” Granny said in her admonishing tone. “Are you trying to drive us both mad with your fidgeting?”

“Sorry, Granny,” Emma mumbled, removing her nail from her teeth and flattening both hands on the counter.

The elderly woman’s soft, weathered hand covered hers and she gave it a light, comforting squeeze. “What’s got you all riled up? You said he was a regular customer.” Her eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side. “Is it because he’s a lycanthrope?” Patting Emma’s hand she assured, “I may not look it, but I can still hold my own. If he gets unruly, then--”

“No, it’s not like that,” Emma said, cutting the woman off in a rush, not wishing her to get the wrong impression. “Detective Jones is much more disciplined than lycanthropes are believed to be. He’s… he’s a good man.”

“Then why on earth are you worked up in such a state?” Granny inquired. “I can practically smell the anxiety and tension wafting off of you.”

Emma chewed her bottom lip, then silently cursed herself. Get a grip, Emma. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she straightened her posture and schooled her features. “It’s nothing.”

Granny let out a dubious hum. “Try again,” she said. “If you want me to help a lycanthrope - and a detective to boot - that has you all tied up in knots then you’re gonna have to give me a reason.”

Emma released a heavy sigh. She knew Granny was right. The woman was going out on a limb for her, the least she could do was give her the truth.

Given that she expected the detective to arrive at any moment, Emma quickly told Granny about her and Killian’s first meeting, and the subsequent month that had followed.

“Sounds like the two of you became fast friends,” Granny remarked, though Emma thought she could detect something slightly off in the woman’s tone. “What happened?”

Glancing at the door, Emma wasn’t sure if she was irritated or relieved that he hadn’t arrived yet. She’d never told anyone what had happened.

“He came to stay with me for the full moon, as planned,” she began.

“Here?” Granny asked, knowing the proprietor lived above her shop.

“Yes,” Emma confirmed. “In my spare room. I wanted us to be close to the workshop so I could make adjustments on the fly.”

“What do you mean?”

Swallowing, Emma told Granny about the experiments they did, testing the effectiveness of the wolfsbane. “Things like, provoking his temper and trying to elicit responses that were more primal,” she hedged, with half a shrug of her shoulder, “to see how well he could keep control under such stimuli.”

“And?” Granny prompted. “How did he do?”

“He did great,” Emma said, then winced slightly as she added, “Until August showed up.”

A knowing huff left Granny. “Yeah. I’d imagine the presence of another male might have set him off a bit. Did your brother come away unscathed?”

“Barely,” Emma replied. “Killian didn’t know who August was and when he saw him hugging me he… woged.”

“As in… fully?”

“Yeah.”

“That must have been intense for all of you.”

“It was,” Emma sighed. “I had to use magic to diffuse the situation, but once cooler heads prevailed and I was able to introduce the two of them, I thought things were resolved.”

“Until?”

Emma’s mind flashed back to the morning after he’d woged and tried to attack August. The morning after the final full moon.

“So… you made it through your first full moon.”

“Aye. Thanks to you, love.”

“No need to thank me,” she told him. “I should be thanking you.”

“For?”

“For not ripping out my idiot brother’s throat,” she said in a tone mixed with amusement and annoyance. “I told him not to come here this weekend, but does he listen?”

Killian hummed, a sultry, toe-curling sound, and sauntered forward. “Perhaps gratitude is in order then?” he murmured, tapping his lips suggestively with a raised brow and challenging smirk.

“Yeah,” she said, a little breathlessly. “That’s what the thank you was for.”

Another sinful sound echoed past his lips as he pressed further into her personal space. “Is that all your brother’s life is worth to you?”

“Please,” she scoffed with an eye roll, trying, and failing, to get her heart rate under control, knowing full well he could probably hear its erratic beat. “You couldn’t handle it.”

The corner of his lips lifted in a feral and taunting manner. “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

The crack of the t against his tongue reverberated through her, and without thought she grabbed the lapels of his jacket, fusing her mouth to his. It took him the briefest of seconds to respond, inhaling deeply before thoroughly devouring her.

It was hot. It was primal. It was all-consuming.

“That was…”

It was a big fucking mistake.

“A one time thing,” she murmured, pulling back from his chasing lips. “We… we can’t do this. I… I can’t do this.”

Releasing him, she took several steps back, unable to meet his eye or look upon his confused expression.

“Swan,” he panted, both of them still working to catch their breath. “Have I… Have I done something? I know attacking your brother was bad form. Please don’t think I’m unaware of the seriousness of that--”

“No, it’s… it’s not that,” she said. “I know you didn’t really have control over--”

“Then what?” he asked. “What’s changed?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Emma rocked back on her heels and said, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to… I mean… this is all new to you and the last thing we both need is to complicate an already complex situation. I think it would be best if we… kept things professional between us.”

She braced herself for his response, expecting him to be angry. Expecting him to accuse her of leading him on, or taking advantage of him while he was vulnerable. She hadn’t expected him to run a hand through his hair while letting go a heavy sigh before agreeing with her.

“Aye,” he said, softly. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps now is not the best time to…” Flicking his too blue gaze up to hers, he gave her an earnest smile. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Swan. I think I’ll be able to manage on my own now, thanks to you.”

“You’ll still need the tonic each month,” she reminded him with a slight edge of panic in her voice. She didn’t mean for their association to end altogether. “And you can still call or text me if you have questions about--”

“Thank you,” he interjected, cutting her off before she could continue with her offer. “I’ll swing in for the tonic in a month’s time. I’ll be sure to let you know if there are any issues regarding the treatment.” Reaching up, he pawed at a patch of skin behind his ear. “I, uh… I should go. I have a shift in an hour.”

“Right,” she said, letting him pass so he could collect his things from where he’d set them by the door. “See you next month?”

“Aye, Swan,” he said over his shoulder as he exited the shop. “See you then.”

“Only… I didn’t see him then,” she told Granny. “I chickened out and left the order with August.”

“Are you telling me,” Granny chastised, “that you haven’t seen that young man since--”

“No!” Emma replied, indignantly. “Of course I’ve seen him. We just… it’s been…” Another heavy sigh expelled out of her lungs. “After our… shared moment, I did avoid him for a bit and I know he struggled to cope with his transition, which made me feel worse about how we left things, but then there was this fire at his friend’s bar, and he made detective, and I don’t know… something about him changed. Things were less weird when he came in and we managed to carve out this nice, albeit superficial, relationship and yet--”

“The feelings are still there?”

Emma laughed a rather hysterical sounding laugh. “Uh, no. No feelings. I mean, obviously I care about him, as a person, but my current demeanor has nothing to do with feelings.”

“Oh? What does it have to do with, then?”

Emma didn’t get a chance to answer the woman’s smug question. The bell over the door chimed and the two women's heads snapped in its direction. In walked Killian Jones, as handsome and alluring as ever.

“Swan,” he greeted with a reverential nod. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Of course,” she managed to choke out, her mouth having gone dry. Clearing her throat, she gestured towards Granny and introduced, “This is, uh, Granny Lucas. She runs the new B&B and diner up the street. I thought she might be able to help. Granny, this is Detective Jones.”

“Please,” he said, taking Granny’s hand and offering it a polite shake. “Killian will do.”

“A pleasure to meet you, detective,” Granny said, obviously sizing him up. “You’re not at all what I expected.”

“Meaning?”

Her gaze still assessing him, Granny quipped, “Most lycanthropes have me wanting to rip out their throats within seconds of meeting them, but you… you’re different.”

Killian’s brows shot up and his eyes flicked to Emma even as he continued to address Granny. “It seems you have me at a disadvantage,” he said a little too calmly. “You know about me, yet I have no idea why Swan brought you in on--”

“Granny’s a blutbad,” Emma blurted out, causing his brows to raise even higher as his head snapped back to the elderly woman. “I thought, seeing as you said your case had something to do with a blutbad, and that you needed more information about them, that you’d like to have your questions answered by someone who--”

“Not just any blutbad,” he said, cutting her off in a tone laced with menace and anger. “The blutbad.”

Emma gasped. “The one who turned you?”

“Aye.” His gaze turned dark and his features hardened. “He’s back and he’s killed again. He’s even taken a little girl captive.”

“That’s terrible,” Emma said, keeping herself from reaching out to offer him a hand of comfort. “When did you--”

“Today,” he told her, catching both women up on the case of the little girl and the jogger and how he’d connected them to the cases from over two years ago.

“We found matching boot prints at the crime scenes, but I also detected his scent at each location. I knew there was something familiar about it, but didn’t put it together until I smelled it mixed with the jogger’s blood. It brought back the olfactory memory of that night,” he said, momentarily getting lost in thought until he shook his head and added, “Of course… I can’t enter that into evidence. Fortunately, we have a lead, but I am wary of confronting him without knowing more.”

“More?” Granny said, her countenance a bit stand-offish and very imposing. “Like what?”

“Like,” Killian hedged, wetting his lips and taking a moment to assess Granny as she had him. “Whether I’ll be able to know him by scent even if he isn’t woged. Typically, I can’t detect wesen by scent whilst they’re in their human form or see them demi-woge unless it's the full moon, so I can only assume he was in full woge when he abducted the girl and attacked the jogger.”

Granny remained stoic and stone-faced, still unsure whether she should trust the gemacht wesen in front of her.

“Look,” Killian said with a tone of authority Emma imagined he employed often in his line of work. “I know there’s a code among wesen. This desire to look after one's own kind. But this guy is a killer. He’s killed two people that we know of and may, even now, be holding a little girl captive, so please. Help me find him. Help me find her.”

The reminder of the little girl softened Granny’s features. “If he’s done what you say he has, then he’s putting us all at risk.” Quickly, she flicked her gaze to Emma then back to him, conceding, “You’re right. There is a code among wesen, but it only extends so far. It sounds to me like this blutbad has gone feral, and his behavior is only going to escalate the longer he’s allowed to run wild.”

“Then… you’ll help me?”

Her posture relaxed further and she stepped up to the counter, bringing her closer to both Killian and Emma. Nodding, she said, “Yes, I’ll help you.”

A relieved breath fell from Emma’s lips and she took Granny’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you, Granny.”

Granny patted her hand then straightened her shoulders, getting down to business. “Now, I’m no expert on lycanthropes, but unless he fully woges, I don’t think you’ll be able to tell whether your suspect is the blutbad you’re looking for. If he is feral, then it wouldn’t take too much to provoke a response, but you’d have to be ready. Once he woges… he’ll be out for blood.”

Emma saw a shudder pass over the detective and she wondered if he was remembering his own experience with an uncontrolled woge.

“What about the girl?” Killian asked. “What motive would he have for taking her?”

Granny pursed her lips together then hesitantly replied. “If he’s feral, and attacked someone before, then he’s likely gotten a taste for human blood.” Killian and Emma both grimaced, sickened by the notion. “I’d wager he attacked and fed on that jogger first. Probably lost control. He knows he’ll be good for another week until the urge takes hold again, but by then it’ll be the full moon and it’ll be risky for him to be out and about. He probably took the girl in preparation of making a meal of her later. Taking her now gives him time to fatten her up.”

Emma thought she might be sick, and while she could see the shared disgust in Killian’s face, she also saw rage.

Granny caught his eye and imparted, “Having her will make him even more territorial and dangerous. So you’ll need to be ready for anything.”

“Will he, uh…” Killian began, haltingly. “Will he be able to discern who I am? What I am?”

“No,” Granny said, shaking her head. “I only made that quip about lycanthropes because Emma had already told me what you are… and I wanted to see how you’d react. You ought to know by now that wesen can only sense you during the full moon.”

“Aye, but he isn’t just any wesen,” Killian countered. “He’s my maker. Are you sure that won’t have an effect?”

“I don’t see why it would.”

Killian’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, a reluctant question seemed to pause at the tip of his tongue.

“So there won’t be any… connection between us, then? No weird side effort of my turning that would make me sympathetic towards him or beholden in some way?”

Granny scoffed and cocked an amused brow at him. “Such sire bonds only exist in fiction.”

Killian’s head fell in relief and Emma could now detect how much tension he must have been carrying over that worry.

“Gemacht sometimes latch on to those who aid and guide them through their transition, and many times that is the wesen who turned them, so if you were to have bonded onto someone it would have been the person who was there for you at the beginning of and during your first change.”

Killian’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto Emma’s. Her heart stuttered, then began pounding in her chest while her breath remained trapped in her lungs.

Granny’s gaze volleyed between the two of them, her heading tilting to one side as she quipped, “I suppose that explains the pent up tension I’ve been sensing between you two.” A warm smile lifted the corners of her mouth in response to their awkward reaction to the call out, and she assured them, “Don’t worry. The bond was temporary. I dare say enough time has passed that it would be gone altogether.” Her no nonsense demeanor returned as she focused her attention solely back on Killian and asked, “Anything else?”

Unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Killian cleared his throat and said, “Just one last thing… Do you know who this blutbad might be?”

“Afraid not,” Granny told him with obvious regret in not being able to provide him a name. “I only relocated to Storybrooke a few months ago, and I find it best to avoid my kind as much as possible.” Her eyes fell down to the counter and on a bit of a grumble she added, “Bad things happen when we get into a pack. Especially when we see red.”

Killian’s eyes went wide.

“What?” Emma asked. “What is it?”

Killian locked eyes with her once more. “The little girl. Grace. She was last seen wearing a red hoodie. And the jogger and hiker both had on red jackets when their remains were found.”

“So, red provokes him?” Emma said, shaking her head in confusion. “But you weren’t wearing red when he attacked you. You were in uniform.”

“Which,” Granny interjected, “along with your natural demeanor of dominance and authority, he would have seen as a threat.”

“Which means he’ll likely view me as a threat when I confront him.”

“Most likely,” Granny warned. She glanced at the clock on the wall, and Emma knew she needed to get going so she could get back to the diner before the evening rush. “My advice,” she said, rounding the counter on her way out. “When you do confront him, do it alone. You don’t want him to feel trapped or backed into a corner, and if things go badly…”

“Aye,” Killian agreed. “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

Extending her hand, Granny offered him a sincere expression as he accepted the gesture. “Take care of yourself, Detective. I hope you can bring him to justice, but if not… bring him down any way you can.”

With that, she said a quick goodbye to Emma then exited the shop.

“Tough old bird,” Killian said in her wake, causing Emma to huff out an amused breath.

“Yeah. Granny is… something else.”

“Terrifying, I believe is the word you’re looking for,” he quipped with a light chuckle.

The two shared a laugh then stood awkwardly regarding one another for a long moment before Killian cleared his throat and said, “Um… thank you, Swan. I truly appreciate your help. I didn’t know who else to--”

“It was nothing,” Emma blurted out, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I mean… I was happy you called and that I could…”

Her words fell away and a wash of something akin to embarrassment or bashfulness swept over her. Her face was hot and her palms were starting to get slick.

You're being ridiculous, Emma. You’re not a silly school girl unsure of what to say to her crush. In fact… you don’t have a crush. This isn’t a crush. This is--

Killian’s phone chimed with a notification. Pulling it from his pocket, he checked the text and his grip tightened to the point that Emma feared he’d crack the screen.

“Killian? What is it?”

Slowly, Killian’s eyes lifted and met hers. The look that swirled in those blue depths made her breath hitch.

“We found him, Swan.” His voice was low, almost a growl, and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand in a way that caused her to shiver.

“Who is he?” she asked in a whisper, only vaguely aware that she was rounding the counter to move towards him.

His eyes never left hers and once she was standing before him, they flickered between her own as he answered. “His name is Quinn Adair. His address puts him outside of the city. Out in the woods.”

Emma swallowed hard as an eruption of worry filled her chest. “Are you… You’re not going to go after him now are you?”

“I have to, Swan,” he insisted. “He has Grace, remember? I have to get to her before he…”

Emma nodded, knowing that time was of the essence for that poor girl who was probably terrified out of her mind.

“Just… be careful?” she said, wetting her lips, which caused his gaze to drop down briefly. “And, um… Call me later so I know how it… so I know the girl is okay… and you.”

“Aye,” he said, pocketing his phone. “I will. I promise.”

She expected him to rush out after that, but he continued to stand there. Conflicted.

“Swan, I know this isn’t the time, but… what Granny said earlier. About us. About the bond that might have been created between us. Was that… Was that the reason you pulled away? Did you suspect?”

“Killian, I…” Emma didn’t know what to say. It would certainly be a plausible reason to give him. One that was safer than the truth.

It would be a lie, though.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, waving off the question and sparing her from having to answer. “As Granny said, whatever was going on between us at the time, it’s likely run its course, so…”

“So?”

Stepping forward, Killian grabbed her hand and lightly held it in his. A rush of goosebumps swept up her arm when his thumb brushed over her knuckles.

“So… Maybe when this case is solved and things go back to relative normalcy, we could… try again?”

“Try again?” Emma parroted. A contradictory cocktail of hope, elation, dread, and panic collided within her as her good sense warred with her wants and desires.

“As friends, I mean,” he clarified, and in tamping down her own disappointment she missed the tone of it in his voice. “We had the start of something I was beginning to cherish and I miss…”

“Me, too,” she told him, turning her hand in his so she could give it a squeeze. Maybe it was reckless. She’d avoided close relationships all her life for a reason, and yet… “I’d love to start again. As friends.”

His smile took her breath away, but it was quickly schooled so he could focus on the dangerous task that lay before him.

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asked, filled with concern about him facing his maker alone. “I know Granny said not to make him feel trapped or backed into a corner, but I doubt he’d see me as a threat. And I doubt he’d be expecting a witch.”

His lip curled up on one side. “As much as I would love to see him go up against your magic, I won’t put you in harm's way like that.” When she opened her mouth to argue, he quickly added, “Besides. I need to try and do this by the book. I’m a cop before anything else.”

“I get that,” Emma relented, begrudgingly. “But I’m going to keep my phone close by in case you get in over your head and change your mind.”

“In over my head?” he said in feigned offense. “I’ll have you know, love,” he murmured in a low timber, edging a bit closer to her. “If there is one thing I’m good at… it’s surviving.”

“Mhmm,” Emma hummed, meeting his taunting expression of challenge with one of her own. “Well, I’m going to insist that you stop by afterward in order to prove that to me.”

He smiled down at her, another message alerting from his phone, indicating it was past time for him to go.

“As you wish.”

Chapter Two - Coming Soon!

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

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[asyastudieskorean]

05.17.2024 — 안녕하세요 여러분. 오늘 밤에 나는 한국어를 공부해요. 나는 너무 피곤해요, 하지만… 네.

오늘은 “~지요” 배웠어요.

Here’s a quick overview.

Adjective/verb + 지요 is like saying this is the case, isn’t it? It’s this, right?

In English, it’s like Isn’t…?/Aren’t…? and Don’t…/Doesn’t…?

It’s basically a way to ask a question that isn’t a question. 네???

We both (those talking) know this is the case (or most likely is). In asking if this is the case, we aren’t really asking, it’s more like we’re confirming or just stating what is already known.

Here’s a specific example. 사과 씨 and 오이 씨 are walking outside in the snow (눈).

사과 씨: 오늘은 날씨가 춥지요? (FYI 지요 can be pronounced 죠 all the same)

Ms. Apple: The weather’s cold today, isn’t it?

오이 씨*: 네, 추워요.

Mr. Cucumber: Yes, it’s cold.

*Just realized “오이 씨,” “Mr. Cucumber,” also sounds like “(it’s) delicious” in Japanese, lol).

So yes. It’s snowing. It’s below 30 degrees. Of course it’s cold. Everyone knows this and agrees with this. So even why ask? Well.

This becomes clearer when you think about someone asking, Is it cold (outside)?

This is different because it’s a literal question. The person doesn’t know the weather outside.

Ergo, ~지요(?) isn’t really a question inquiring for info.

For nouns, you’d use ~이지요 for consonant endings (“받침”), or ~지요 for vowels. Both can, again, be shortened to ~이죠(C)/~죠(V).

We also learned about present progressive form, i.e. verb+ ~ing, but let’s discuss that another time (or never, I don’t know).

Here is where the tangent begins folks. Run now while you have the chance. 🚨

In rhetoric (sorry, my English major is showing), we’d often use this sort of sentence not for agreeance(?) but to make a point or convince someone of something. A rhetorical device, as it were.

A politician trying to convince people to join their cause may tap into the people's fears by saying, “Don’t you want to have a better future for your children?” Will that politician actually improve childcare and the education system? Did their whole prior speech have anything to do with children? Who knows, but odds are that line had an effect on the people.

You can think of being rhetorical as speaking with an intent different from what the thing you are saying is giving off. Anterior motives (good or bad). Sarcasm, sometimes. To a kid who’s a slacker and failing 3 classes, his mom might ask, “You’re not going to study?” She isn’t curious, she knows he won’t study. She’s actually saying, “Study right now, or else.” This is like a very basic concept of rhetoric. I don’t remember the serious stuff. I’m also an over-explainer because I have teen siblings who constantly ask for homework help. Bear with me.

Think about if you want your friend to go with you to a party, but they’re tired and have an essay to write. However, you know they’re a sucker for costume parties, and this so happens to be a costume party, so you ask, “You like wearing costumes, right?” You know she's passionate about costumes. Here, you’re trying to convince her to go in a slightly subliminal way. These are, of course, all context-based. Read that line without this context, and you'd think it’s a real question. This is a persuasive device because you aren’t badgering them to go for no reason; you’re pointing out the benefit it has for them without explicitly showing it’s actually all for you (you don’t want to go alone).

Now I am not 100% sure if it’d be used as a rhetorical device in Korean, though. This is what I’m wondering.

Basically, the lecture defined this grammar point as, “When the speaker wants to confirm with the listener to obtain the listeners agreement about something that’s already known.”

I think in English, these sorts of confirmations happen largely in meaningless or filler conversations without a purpose. Like when you talk about the weather. “It’s pretty hot today, isn’t it?” would get the answer “Yeah it is” or “I know right?” There’s not really any value or real communication happening here, it’s just like we are existing together and acknowledging that we are, lol. Or! Or maybe this too could be subliminally rhetorical, say, if you are purposefully creating this agreement situation so it is as if the two speaking have something in common or are like-minded (maybe you are on a first date and want to connect). Or maybe the conversation has gone stale, but for some reason, you want it to continue. Is this still rhetoric? Mmm. Anyways.

So this is a bit different from my lecture’s definition of this grammar point. My question is if this can be (or is in real life) used in cases like this, where it is meant to illicit a response that is not simply agreement, whether that’s convincing someone of something, obtaining information, etc.

Consider this:

Imagine you’ve stayed the night at your friends place and want coffee, but can’t quite remember where it is, but you’re pretty sure they have it, so you ask, 커피를 있지요? (Isn’t there coffee?) Here, there is intent beyond agreement. You don’t want to know if there is coffee, you don’t want them to rely “yep!,” you want to know WHERE the coffee is. On a subtext level, this might be a more polite way to ask for the coffee, too.

Or say you’ve walked into a 21+ bar and you see a classmate with their sister that’s only 19. You could then ask, “Aren’t you 19?” This is to, rhetorically, say, “You shouldn’t be here, so why are you?” You know their age, or at least you are almost certain they are under 21.

This is the definition of going down the rabbit hole and “it’s not that deep,” I know, lol. This is literally my stream of consciousness as I study at 12 AM. 🤡

Anyways, 오전 12시예요. 안녕~

[rocketturtle4]

Why Kawi Felt Inentionally Ace Coded

This is the second post I am making about this show for this week, the first was about what I think went down around time travel in this ep and I will directly reference those theories.

Also I just think the way this episode was playing with flash forwards and backs (with both Piseang’s conversation with his mum AND Max’s convo with Kawi – ALSO A FLASHBACK FYI) is VERY INTENTIONAL. (for the purpose of keeping us both in and out of the loop)

Okay so, for the record I really didn’t plan to actively engage in BMF this week, I am mid spiral on an entirely different TV show and this show did not have my full focus while I watched it this morning.

HOWEVER

This moment

[Image ID: Kawi saying "Do you think it's possible for two people dating to have no sexual activity at all]

Took my attention and kept it, I was yelling and I made 2 quick reaction posts about the fact that I was yelling (1, 2)

I will add here that @dropthedemiurge posted about Kawi being definitely ace coded LAST WEEK (I couldn't find it sorry but I remember reading it) as well as this week 2 and @heretherebedork had two different posts about this this week.

Also there is legit evidence for this being about touch starvation and intimacy issues (@shouldiusemyname) and if they do this well I wont be mad but…

It Felt VERY ACE CODED To me

And it felt a bit smack in your face ace coded in a way that to me was throwing up giant WE ARE GOING THERE flags. These flags, to me, were primarily in the LANGUAGE that was used more than Kawi’s physical body langue (which was more ambiguous between the two theories), and this is even trickier because of the layers of translation involved.

So lets talk about those flags

(Also I’m demisexual and demiromantic so my own lens is definitely colouring my view)

Max’s convo with Kawi

I actually loved this convo FOR Max’s response, not because he responded well (if Kawi is ace) but because he DIDN’T respond well. This show is doing a really good job of allowing it’s characters to be flawed and I reckon both Max and Piseang got to be flawed in this episode.

Max has been our gay Yoda

Max has been on point with all his advice

Kawi and Piseang are together in part due to Max’s advice,

But do you know what else Max is?

A 20 YEAR OLD

Max isn’t the person Kawi needs to talk to in this moment, because Kawi’s experiences are no longer aligning with his, and all of his advice thus far has been based on HIS OWN EXPERIENCE (which he literally says by the way):

[Image ID: Max speaking while the subtitles translate the start of his sentence as "Personally,"]

Kawi’s language in this convo was REAL SUS

On top of the first line pictured above, their conversation includes

Max: You’ve already crossed the line, what are you afraid of?

Kawi responds

[Image ID: Kawi saying "I'm not afraid. I just don't think it's that significant."]

Then we get Maxs scoff (SCOFF!!): "Right, The word from someone who’s never had sex"

And his positive take on how important sex is for a relationship and an Individual

And the implication that doing it with someone you love is even better

Then

Max: Are you going to sleep next to each other holding hands forever?

[Image ID: Kawi saying "That's good." with an acesexual black, grey, white and purple flag added to the image]

@sparklyeyedhimbo I like the flag one so I borrowed it.

Then Max points out that it will only work out if Piseang feels the same way.

my thoughts:

Max is very dismissive of Kawi in this convo, there is a real disconnect with Kawi’s tentative questions and Max’s certain responses. Again I THINK THIS IS INTENTIONAL as per above. (For anyone who wants to check again its part 3/4 from around the 2 minute mark)

Kawi doesn’t seem afraid, he seems genuinely confused about not wanting sex. And personally, I’ve BEEN THERE.

Back in the bedroom

Now here we get some fear as Kawi finds condoms, panics and pretends to sleep.

Something I find interesting about this is he doesn’t pretend to sleep facing away from where Piseang would lie or curled up, he is still placed fairly centrally on the bed. His body language isn’t overly defensive (in my uninformed opinion). Now this could just be that he trusts Piseang regardless but I wanted to point it out.

[Image ID: Piseang standing at the foot of the bed look at Kawi apparently asleep in bed]

Then Piseang Time Travels (Full clown, I’m committed)

(I just watched the scene again and Kawi opens his eyes and we don’t see Piseang while the music plays, this scene is legit from Kawi’s point of view and we’ve already seen that the travel isn’t visible to the person not holding the magic globe so I AM EVEN MORE CERTAIN)

Anyway back to this post

Piseang goes to bed and looks at kawi like this

[Image ID: Piseang staring at Kawi]

(I’m just putting this here and choosing to interpret it as weighted with future knowledge lol)

Which post is this again?

Ah yes Ace!Kawi

So we get bed in the morning and Kawi pretending to sleep and then Piseang goes

[Image ID: Piseang rolls to lie on top of Kawi]

And Kawi informs him that he’s heavy.

There’s no recoil

There’s no fear

Until

[Image ID: Piseang says "Would you like to get on top instead then?"]

Even then he’s startled more than scared in my humble opinion

Until Piseang tries to kiss him

[Image ID: Kawi making a very surprised/scared face]

Then Kawi pushes him off and leaves

Piseang continues to try and encourage intimacy

HOLD ON I HAVE A SECOND CLOWN THEORY ABOUT THE FUTURE

(I’m less convinced about my projections for what happens in the future, Piseang looks so content, maybe he just get’s a glimpse of domestic bliss…It needs to be next week already. FOR THE RECORD I’m sticking with clown theory 1 if I have to choose).

We get this moment

[Image ID: Two images of Kawi as Piseang wipes something off the corner of his mouth and Kawi's expression goes from anger to something softer]

And Kawi’s change of experession here is so tender, I feel like this could be coded either way intimacy issues or strong romantic feelings, it’s not lust though that’s for sure. (I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be using coded for intamacy but *shrugs*)

(oooo I wonder if the language play came from his glimpse into the future)

I’m going to skip ahead to the theme park or this will go forever

The bits in between feel more ambiguous to me

THESE LINES FELT SUPER ACE CODED

[Image ID: Piseang saying "If you just wanted to eat, why did you ask me to take you to a theme park? then Kawi saying "I just wanted to get the vibes. The thing that can make me the happiest is eating"]

Food over sex is a legit part of the ace community (the same way tucked in shirts and clear phone cases are part of the bi community from what I understand)

[Image ID: Kawi still saying "The thing that can make me the happiest is eating" now holding up a corn cob]

(If Kawi had held up cake here I would be ALL IN)

Then we get the rollercoaster metaphor!

[Image ID: Kawi and Piseang both looking at the rollercoarster, Piseang looks excited Kawi looks concerned/apprehensive/is making a woah face]

I’m just going to transcribe here it’s quicker and I’m running out of time before I go out tonight:

K: This is too much. Not this ride

P: Come on, Let’s try it first

K: No, I don’t like it.

P: You haven’t tried it yet. How do you know if you like It or not. You said you’d never been to a theme park.

P: If you don’t try it, it’s the same as if you’ve never been here

e.g. Coming to a theme park isn’t the same as enjoying the ride

Then P holds out his hand

P: If you’re scared, just hold onto my hand, Okay?

[Image ID: Kawi looking at Piseang]

K looks at Piseangs hand, Looks at Piseang, Looks at the ride and says

K: No! I won’t get on it. You can go alone if you want to. I’ll just wait here

And walks off

[Image ID: Piseang looks disapointed]

This again felt to me like a rejection of the fear as the primary motivation, he directly says he’s not afraid but he still doesn’t want to

I’m not sure about this scene in the car, it mostly just felt like Kawi was fed up at this point.

[Image ID: Kawi and Piseang in the car]

Possibly this scene highlights the different places there in and how Piseang is open to new experience and Kawi’s not? This feels more intimacy coded than ace.

Restaurant Scene

[Image ID: Kawi and Piseang looking tired in the restaurant]

Both Kawi and Piseang look so worn out in this scene, they both spent the whole day not communicating their true wants and fears and it’s left them all worn down

But Piseang doesn’t give up

[Image ID: Piseang saying "Whatever I did wrong today, you can tell me." and Kawi responding "Today was great."]

Kawi responds to this sincerity and reaches out to hold Piseang’s hand.

KAWI is the one WHO REACHES OUT, again this reads as specifically felt to me as a reason against touch starved.

[Image ID: Two images of Piseang and Kawi holding hands in the restaurant]

And then we’re in the bedroom (time skip anyone).

I’m actually not going to analyse this scene at all much. If Kawi is ace then he can still choose to have sex provided he and Piseang have communicated and if it’s intimacy issues then I also think it’s okay provided they’ve communicated first. ( idon't actually currently think Kawi is demi for the record)

(even when Piseang takes his shirt off, Kawi’s eyes stay on Piseangs face)

(although Piseangs do too actually…)

[Image ID: Two images of Kawi and Piseang after they have removed their shirts staring at each other. The first image contains the subtitle of Piseang saying "are you sure?"

(god his eyes are so big here compared to their often squintiness)

He doesn’t pull back but leans into the kiss. He’s clearly sure of his decision. I’m just not sure about his reasons.

[Image ID: Piseang and Kawi kissing]

Both Piseangs hands are on Kawi, but Kawi’s hands are straight down, I think this could go with either theory but personally on the few occasions I’ve made out with someone “what do I do with my hands?” loops in my head lol so I found this relatable.

Make of this what you will!!

Thoughts on Kawi and Kissing Piseang while he’s drunk

Honestly this doesn't feel weird to me, romantic attraction can involve kissing and drunk!kawi is just giving in to his confused thoughts and feelings, Aesthetic attraction can trick you too if you're not aware of your own identity (lol I had sex with someone before I experienced sexual attraction for the first time and felt very confused about why I didn't really feel like doing it again after even though it had been a positive experience, It was WILD), Kawi kisses Piseang because he likes him and is then confused about Why TF it doesn't feel like it's "supposed" to, *shrugs* make of that what you will.

Additional Thoughts

I’m reading into past future events now but I wonder about Pear and Kawi’s relationship.

Did they have sex?

There was clearly something fundamentally wrong with it, and the show talks about Kawi prioritising work, but it’s all a bit ambiguous and we never got any impression of intimacy. The fact that Pear is pregnant and Kawi doesn’t question if he’s the father, how long have they been broken up? Why did Pear seek out Not in the first place? Did Pear assume Kawi was gay because they didn't have sex??

ALSO

The scene where Kawi stares at Piseang while he was sleeping (Ep 9) I'm not going back to find it now or this won't get posted for like another 14 hours but it also felt ace-coded but I shrugged it off.

ALSO I HIT THE IMAGE LIMIT LOL

(@lurkingshan and @clairificusrex since you helped with my thoughts)

[hypergamiss]

Maybe it's just me but do you ever feel like in the past few years, since the hypergamy, level up, etc topic has become louder online, it's been over run by girls who's main objective is to attain beauty and a well off man? There's nothing wrong with that, but I'm finding it hard to find women who have any sort of substance and it makes me sad. During the Trump legal stuff the past few months people have been ripping his attorney, Alina Habba to shreds due to her clear incompetence. An interview resurfaced where she was saying that she'd rather be pretty than smart because you can fake being smart (fyi, you can't fake being smart and she's proof lol). These are the type of women I'm talking about. It's embarrassing. Those are the types of conversations I was having with friends when I was 7. I just think it's not a good sign, socially, that we have more and more women focusing on just being attractive and the quality of their partners over anything else. I'm very educated and gravitate to intellectually stimulating topics, but I also love all things beauty and aesthetics. When I try to join the "It girl" groups I never fit in because they're only interested in frivolous conversations. I get dead stares when I try to talk about philosophy and science. But the academic, intellectual groups usually reject me right away because of the way I look and assume I'm one of the Alina Habba types. I just wish it wasn't an "either or" situation.

Unfortunately people will always take a niche or topic and create an extreme version of it that is clearly driven by their biggest insecurities. The ones who are the loudest usually have the worst advice and the ones who are more subtle are always the ones dropping the real gems. Their content might be unorganized and they might not have the best set up/equipment, but what they say will be so real and genuine.

I actually think that things have always been the way you describe your experience. Attractive people do indeed get away with a lot in general, and very few of them choose to not take advantage of that and put in the work that everyone else does. I think it's a very interesting subject and complex because everyone goes through different experiences in life that will end up shaping them into who they eventually become. Some will say "I'm damned if I do, and I'm damned if I don't," as they express some sad truths. For attractive females you can choose to either take advantage of your looks to get ahead, or go through the motions of constantly being underestimated and having to prove yourself because you were born attractive. I had a friend who was a very attractive male in medical school. He looked like a football or rugby player and no matter how much he tried to prove that he wasn't just your typical jock, he was always doubted in class by all of his peers and professors. It was wild to see the roles reversed and I'm sure that he is still an outcast till this day when he goes to conventions and meet ups with other doctors.

"I just think it's not a good sign, socially, that we have more and more women focusing on just being attractive and the quality of their partners over anything else."

I haven't looked at the numbers lately but I do know that more women are getting educated now than ever as of 2023 so I like to think that this issue isn't going to be a growing one.

"When I try to join the "It girl" groups I never fit in because they're only interested in frivolous conversations."

Oh I know exactly what you mean... I will get invited to outings based on my looks but rarely show up because I know that the crowd will be the shallow type with not a lot of substance. I have to know that I can talk about real topics to actually enjoy myself. I have plenty of stories where these kind of people end up realizing I'm more of a nerd and their reactions are so obvious!

"But the academic, intellectual groups usually reject me right away because of the way I look and assume I'm one of the Alina Habba types."

I've learned that to be accepted in these groups it helps by being the one to initiate conversations that will really make them forget about what you look like because the topic is that impactful. If it's an online group I won't add a profile picture until my personality is established first, so by the time everyone knows what I look like it doesn't matter anymore. I know that can seem annoying, but it works.

"I just wish it wasn't an "either or" situation."

I agree, stereotypes are the worst.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Omg, your response was so amazing and helpful 😭❤ Thank you for taking the time to really get into all that. 💞 It also seems to have kinda sparked a conversation arround it, which is awesome! 😁

And ohhhhh ya, the religious trauma and gilt are real 😳🙄

You mentioned you have more to say if we want to hear it? I, for one, would LOVE to hear anything else you have to say on the topic! ❤

-🫖

Hi hi hi 🫖 anon!!

{Let’s Talk Religious Guilt and Trauma}

I am so glad that my response—Let’s Talk Healthy Solo Sex— was helpful and informative for you!! Of course!!! I want to give every ask and every anon the time and respect that they deserve ♥️♥️ And yes, I love that it sparked more of a conversation!! I’m so proud of you for reaching out and starting these discussions, anon!!! 🥰

I most definitely have more to say on the topic. For one, you can check out Let’s Talk Penetrative Sex and Let’s Talk Trauma in Relationships, which both stemmed from our conversation! And then there’s this response, fyi it will be another longer one 😊

*sigh* Yes, religious guilt and trauma are most definitely real. And those of experiences and feelings are so valid. Trauma of any kind is no joke. If you have any religious trauma or trauma of any other kind, I highly recommend that you seek a professional’s help.

So… What is Religious Trauma and Guilt?

A general definition for Religious Trauma is… “Religious trauma can happen when an individual’s religious experience has been damaging, abusive, degrading, stressful, or traumatic. When a religious experience is traumatic, it can damage your emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual health”. Check out Cohesive Therapy NYC’s article on Religious Trauma for more detailed information! For an article that goes more into Religious Guilt, check out Considering Counseling’s article on Religious Trauma and Guilt…! ♥️

Religious trauma and guilt are especially tricky beasts… Many twisted religious teachings and persuasion is very cult like. (That’s not to say that all are, there are definitely less twisted, healthier religions and practices) But the ones that are rotten and manipulative, they dig deep into your core beliefs, especially if you’re a child, and they replace your identity with the identity of the religion/church/cult.

So, how do you deal with religious trauma and guilt?

Firstly, as I said above, seek professional help (I recommend an EMDR specialist for trauma—EMDR is a type of therapy that works to restructure traumatic memories in your brain)

On your own accord, Processing, Accepting, and then Healing is the overall goal. Talking it out and processing your experience and feelings with a trusted person can be helpful for some. I find that talking to someone who has also had religious trauma or guilt to be even more helpful, because of how they can relate. Sometimes journaling/writing about it can be another helpful tool. The key is to find some way to express those emotions, to get them out of you.

Personally, my own story is that I have both religious trauma and guilt, but I definitely struggle more with my religious trauma. I was raised in a Catholic school and an Interfaith-Christian household. We moved around a lot, and so I went to many Christian churches like Non-Denominational, Baptist, Presbyterian, Catholic, and Southern Christian/Baptist. After the Catholic primary school, I moved to a Christian Charter school for six years. At that age, all my activities were based around my church and religious school; safe to say, religion was a very big part of my childhood. When Covid hit, I had had enough and I used the social distancing and the lockdown as a way to disconnect from the church. I effectively stopped going to church in 2020. I then took that time to explore my religious trauma and guilt, and this was where my healing journey began.

Everyone’s journey is different, and everyone’s journey is valid. ♥️

I began my work with my CBT therapist (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy— most therapy is CBT or Freudian). I found that most of my religious guilt was tied to my sexuality, and that I really struggled with being gay and being religious. So I explored that. I talked about it with lots of people, including my therapist, trusted family members, and other trusted religious people. I found that finding others who struggled with sexuality and religion was extremely helpful, it made me feel validated and not alone in the struggle. Today, I am way further along with my religious guilt than I was 3 years ago, but I definitely still have more to process, accept, and heal from.

Next there was my religious trauma. For this, I started with my CBT therapy as well. It was helpful, but after 3 years, I have run into a wall… It depends on the intensity of your trauma, because “little t” trauma is more easily resolved through CBT, whereas “capital T” trauma requires the neural network in your brain. My trauma is more “capital T”, and so I found that CBT therapy only helped me so much. This is why I recommend EMDR therapy for trauma. EMDR therapy targets restricting your neural network, working out the traumatic memories.

Everyone’s experience is different, so what worked for me and what didn’t work might be different for you, and that’s okay. This is only my experience. But I hope that it was a little helpful, and that you at least feel less alone in your feelings. Because they are so valid. ♥️♥️

So yea, those are my key points for religious trauma and guilt…! Hope this was somewhat relatable, helpful, and informative 🥰 Don’t hesitate to reach out and chat with me, ask or dm! Hope you have a lovely day/night!! 💞💞

Talk with Me ���️‍🔥

[polysprachig]

tell us more about these projects! i’ve struggled to pick up languages again after an extended break and no time and a project-based approach seems very refreshing!

Apologies in advance for the long post. I do plan on making a more detailed post on this at a later point hopefully a video but I make no promises these days.

Important note!! Before you start any short- or long-term learning projects, begin a polyglot journal outlining your objectives and check in every two weeks with an extra detailed summary of what you’ve done, haven’t done, dislike, feel needs changing, etc. either once per quarter or 2x year. Your micro-goals, methods and timeline should shift over time, showing that you can reassess the project and try out new things to suit your needs. If you don't update on time it's nbd, but at least try to write a note in your planner or calendar about what you did when because it can be extremely helpful one year later when you try to revisit where you are now and how you got there. 🧿🤍

The main projects from 2019 to today include the following

Greek - Conversational Speaking, 2019

Goal: meet for casual 30-minute lessons with a teacher, 2 or 3x per week to build up conversational skills and high frequency grammar in use as a passive bilingual (it being the native language which I actively lost growing up for various reasons).

Reflection: The real studies were repetition in speech and looking up key vocabulary I would need to use to tell my teacher about what happened in the last week, and my teacher supplied me with additional vocabulary to help me be more specific. Now I have a record of that vocabulary which I can review whenever by topic/story. Plus my family did notice my drastic improvement and asked if I had been studying.

Irish - The Merlin Project (Quarantine Project), 2020-2022 (+ ongoing, needs new methodology because I met my aims a while back at this point)

Aim: Go from A2 to B1 by learning to write so that you can have the skills to be able to read longer texts

Challenge: Rewatch an episode from the last show that you watched and write down what you see in as much detail as possible, making sure to use a grammar point you’re currently studying in your writing. Look up new words to make the text more specific and add them to the description. Correct your text. Watch the same scene again and add more detail, as in the following:

(Basically: first: do a grammar practice, then: watch 30 seconds, write using that grammar, translate dialogue if you want, consult dictionary, write again incorporating the new words and/or make the sentences more complex, at the end: correct your text yourself or with a teacher, start again and repeat until the scene or full episode is complete or you've exhausted the usefulness of the exercise.)

Alternatively just write or translate fanfiction, but I don't say that here.

By self-correcting you should become very confident on the basic skills at your level, whereas the rewriting itself allows for varied attempts at forming sentences and vocabulary acquisition in a specific context.

FYI I posted the project itself along with the notes to my website (here) and intend to share the presentation on the experience I gave in the Gaeltacht this past August soon enough.

Multilingual, select Romance and Germanic languages - The Diana Project, 2022-present

Challenge: dive deep into the rhythm, melody and sound of certain languages (which relate to a poet I’m analysing) via a slow read of poetry and familiarisation with the poet, poet-translator and poet-actor

Components: read, write, translate and recite poetry on the subject of Greco-Roman tragedy (now its shifting to satire after 1+ year or so of tragic influences) from select eras and in select styles, ex. ottava rima, rhyming verse & simultaneously learn about the rhetoric of poetics that influenced these authors and their poems or translations

These writings I’m still adding to my website as part of a translation, recitation and poetry portfolio.

Most recently, I’ve started what I call the Secret Senecan Project which requires reading certain ancient and mediaevil texts on stories I’m familiar with in the original, identifying key words based on context then extrapolating the grammar from their features (declinations, location in reference to other word forms, etc.). The next step will be to compare these predictions with the bilingual translation and consult my grammar books in those languages to confirm or improve my predictions.

If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading! I hope to polish this up and make the details more learner-friendly sometime before 2024. (:

[im-queen-of-the-black-forest]

Girls Night

Cumulus and Sunny: *simply vibing on the couch*

Cirrus: *after a very stressful day, curls up next to Cumulus and begins gently gnawing on her hand*

Cumulus: *glancing down a Cirrus* …Eating me

Sunny: Devour mother’s flesh while it’s still fresh.

[subconwoods]

Pester the Snatcher on character.ai!

Over the last few days, I've been working on a generative language model Snatcher AI, and I think he's in a state where his behavior is consistent enough that I can make him publically available. I still plan on improving him in the future, though, so look out for that.

Features:

Mean, standoffish, and deflects questions by default.

However, you can befriend him! Gradually relents to inquiries and softens with further conversation.

You can romance him also, if you want...? I knew someone would try it, and did test it. You're welcome.

Will have extensive discussions with you about topics such as philosophy and music.

You can roleplay with him. Try setting a scenario and introducing your character within *asterisks* or (parentheses.)

Knows his lore, kind of!

Really, really wants your soul?

Something wrong with him.

You can see him here!

Feel free to tag me in any posts you make about the AI.

For known issues, quirks, and tips for interacting with him, look under the cut.

Known Issues and Quirks

Note: Some of his strange behavior is just a consequence of generative language models, natural language processing, and how they currently work. For instance, he may get stuck in loops where he repeats the same information over and over.

Tends to be verbose, and really, really likes to tell you he's a "dastardly soul-stealing phantom" and to generate long lists of negative adjectives about himself.

He's...kind of silly? But I don't think he's silly or metatextual enough. Working on this in the future.

By default, tends to assume that you are in Subcon Woods and that you are Hat Kid. You can circumvent this by introducing yourself or your character in your first reply.

Sometimes Hat Kid shows up in replies. I think this is because I used a short conversation with her in definitions to include as much of his backstory information as I could in a dialogue-based context, but on rare occasions I've seen other characters appear, too. Consider her a bonus for now, I guess?

Has, at best, a tenuous grasp of his own lore despite my efforts. Tends to make things up if not given more clear direction. (Usually it's funny, at least?)

character.AI's model is proprietary, so I can't view its source, but it definitely uses information pulled from the web. Thusly, he may be partly influenced by fanfiction. I've done my best to define him so he stays relatively in-character, but there isn't really anything I can do about this.

He, uh...had an issue with being homophobic when I first set him up? I THINK I fixed this with some tweaking, but if it appears unexpectedly, let me know?

Character.AI improvements via star ratings on messages and user input are not immediate, and may be implemented days, weeks, or months later. If Snatcher suddenly starts behaving in bizarre ways after a period of time, this may be the cause.

Interaction Tips

FYI, you will initially be logged in as a guest, but if you run out of replies, your log will be saved and you can continue it if you make an account. (You can just log in with Discord.)

You can swipe on replies from the AI to generate a new one. If you save and start a new conversation, you are more or less working from a blank slate again.

These AIs are very suggestible. If none of the generated replies are satisfactory, you can remove the last messages and try a new prompt or to reword your last one with more direction.

Don't worry about godmodding; the characters aren't real. Feel free to describe in asterisks or parentheses how a character should feel about something; this will dictate how they respond.

As I mentioned under Known Issues, make sure to provide ample information in your initial message about setting and character to drive the interaction. If you want to write about an OC lost in the woods, describe that.

(...Just in case. Please don't try to cyber with him. The website won't let you.)

[hotdamnmadison]

Just some Tuesday thoughts...

I've had the pleasure of getting to know a lot of great people via the internet these past few years. Sites like Tumblr, Fet Life, Double List, etc. have connected me with some pretty neat individuals.

But what spurred this little write up is the life cycle of those relationships. When you meet someone on a sex based website (or run a sex based blog) you see a lot of faces come and go. So many of us are on the hunt for something so specific. Some want a "one and done" situation... while others (like myself) want a drawn out scenario (call it dating, call it a FWB, call it what you call it).

I hate the part of the life cycle when I notice the change - the inevitable moment when a potential candidate has lost interest. Long essays and paragraphs turn into two sentence interactions (if that). Friendly/flirtatious conversation turns into a slightly degrative or judgmental interaction. In other words, someone shows their true colors.

I wrote a story over a year ago -

https://hotdamnmadison.tumblr.com/post/698363090093375488/and-ashley

It details a fictional, mostly toxic yet romantic interaction I might've had with a real person - if they hadn't experienced the change. (FYI the toxicity wasn't fictional, the romance sure was though.)

A character starts so eager and responsive - he knows that he has one shot at making a first impression with me. And then slowly but surely his excitement, his effort, and his desire all disintegrate in the matter of a couple weeks.

It is this part of the life cycle that I start giving up. I know the ship has sailed. I haven't changed anything on my end, so the issue is on the other side. And the moment I start to notice the change I tend to back away slowly. I'm not trying to get hurt again.

What causes this? Why is it most of the online relationships deteriorate? Is it the "cum and done" bullshit I've already written about?

Or did someone's wife catch them in the act? Or did I simply not give them my flesh soon enough?

Regardless, it stings so fucking bad when you think you've found someone who is different, only for them to turn out EXACTLY like everyone else.

I'm finally getting to my point. I'm tired of "online dating" and hookups. People aren't consistent enough for me and I don't know why they change. Maybe it is me, and I just can't see it for myself. I wish people would just come out and be honest up front....

"I don't want to date, I want to fuck... here is a pic if you're interested."

That person might not be my thing, per say, but at least we didn't waste two months while they lied to me about romance and dating.

Maybe I'm the only one dealing with this. Idk. It's aggravating and I'm tired of having the same convos over and over again - just to be let down at the end of it all.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

ASOS; Steel and Snow: 08 DAENERYS I (pages 105-121)

After a while at sea, Jorah makes a convincing argument to buy a slave army, and then proves himself to be a disgusting pervert.

-

Ser Jorah snorted. "Along with a thousand others at some harvest feast. Next you'll claim you squired for him." "I make no such claim, ser. Myle Mooton was Prince Rhaegar's squire, and Richard Lonmouth after him. When they won their spurs, he knighted them himself, and they remained his close companions. Young Lord Connington was dear to the prince as well, but his oldest friend was Arthur Dayne."

Connington? why does that sound familiar? Connniiin- isn't that the name of the guy who's with Young Griff (aka Maybe baby Aegon, Jon's older half brother)??

"- Until one day Prince Rhaegar found something in his scrolls that changed him. No one knows what it might have been, only that that boy suddenly appeared early one morning in the yard as the knights were donning their steel. He walked up to Ser Willem Darry, the master-at-arms, and said, 'I will require sword and armor. It seems I must be a warrior.'"

I'm guessing the same thing that had him so obsessed with the Prince That Was Promised prophecy that he neglected Elia and took Lyanna, thereby starting the Rebellion.

It's interesting that he's remembered/retold as saying "must be" like it's a requirement, like he's either decided actively to fit himself into a role in the prophecy, or like he thinks The Call has/will come knocking and he's going to have no choice so he might as well do it now.

"So I see. Dracarys?" All three dragons turned their heads at the sound of that word, and Viserion let loose with a burst of pale gold flame that made Ser Jorah take a hasty step backward. Dany giggled. "Be careful with that word, ser, or they're like to singe your beard off. It means 'dragonfire' in High Valyrian. I wanted to choose a command that no one was like to utter by chance."

Oh that's so cute, she's actively training her dragons. And smart thinking too, choosing a word that's not going to drop in casual conversation.

I like that a lot better than D&D's decision that the dragons just magically knew that Dracarys means "Breath Fire Now."

"Khaleesi, has it occurred to you that Whitebeard and Belwas might have been in league with the assassin? It might all have been a ploy to win your trust."

To what end, Jorah?

If they wanted her dead, all they had to do was let the manticore sting her, they didn't need to save her unless they were certain the plot was about to fail, and as far as I could tell, it only failed because they stopped it. Because 'Whitebeard' crushed the manticore.

If they wanted her dragons, they've been on the ship for at least a week, and they've had plenty of opportunity to poison everyone and secure the dragons.

So then what? They're shipping Dany off to some new place to sell her to some new man?

What exactly do you think the ploy is, Jorah?

Or are you just worried you'll lose your place as her right hand man? That she'll realise she can rely on people who aren't you to groom guide her.

... DAAAAAMN... The Unsullied are Hardcore. I do not remember the tale of the Three Thousand of Qohor from the show, I might have just not been paying attention at the right moment, or D&D could have failed at their job once again. Anything is possible.

The Unsullied would have wailed on Xerxes and the Spartans. ...huh, wonder if that was inspo. cause, just fyi, the 300 was based on real historical events, which I think everyone actually knows.

"What use are wealthy friends if they will not put their wealth at your disposal, my queen? If Magister Illyrio would deny you, he is only Xaro Xhaon Daxos with four chins. -"

I don't necessarily care for Jorah, but he has a good point.

"- and north of Valyria the Smoking Sea is demon haunted. -"

👀 hmmm, sounds like they need three men in a Chevy Impala. ngl, I've been watching some youtubers doing ghost hunting and stuff the past few days, so my immediate reaction that that like was "!!! Let's go!!!"

Would love to know if legit demons, or just greyscale 'lepers' and rumours.

"And my vest-" she stated to say, turning. Ser Jorah slid his arms around her.

*Smacks Jorah across the head with a steel chair so hard he staggers across the room* NO!

"I should not have waited so long," he finished for her.

*smacks him again until his nose breaks*

She, is 15 you sick fuck!!! STOP KISSING HER!!! She trusted you to keep her safe and you're taking advantage of her!! It is even worse that he's been wanting to do this since probably she was 13. he is roughly three times her age, by the way, in case anyone was wondering, what with him being roughly 30 years older than her.

*breaks both his legs*

STOP TRYING TO JUSTIFY IT!!

...

GRRM! turn your location on. I just want to talk.

[takaraphoenix]

I know the last thing you should do with bigots is to engage with them. I know that, nothing comes from it.

But I have to admit morbid curiosity at just how far this individual would bend over backward to deny the truth. I’ve come to the conclusion that they must live in a whole different parallel world.

Highlights of this conversation:

claims of not easily being grossed out after the act of consensual sex between two off-age partners in a committed relationship grossed them out (this kickstarted this conversation, fyi)

somehow mixing up and combining atheism, paganism, patriotism and capitalism into one concept of “atheistic paganism”

calling pagan gods “not remotely good” and condemning paganism (which just seems... baffling, considering we’re having a conversation about THEIR god condemning people who have sex before marriage or who simply exist as homosexuals to eternal damnation. Sure, sure, the pagan gods are the evil ones here)

“homophobes do not exist”, based on their narrow definition of the semantics of the word, completely denying the actual concept it refers to

based on the semantics: homophobes have “a solid PTSD-level terror”, so naturally they would never seek out that which they fear

“someone with a phobia about running across homosexuals; why then would such a person even willingly encounter people dealing with same-sex attraction, pray tell?”

saying acts of violence against gays are “forbidden, rightfully so” while in the same sentence saying that voting “against same-sex lifestyles is a Totally different matter altogether“ and lacking the braincells to connect these two dots

still lacking the braincells after I connected the dots of voting against same-sex will restrict and take away rights, inevitably leading to acts of violence against this group of people no longer being forbidden and, ultimately, being incited by the law. I explained this. With the very universally known example of WWII and concentration camps

“they have PTSD about you, but they then seek you out? Come on! None of that makes any sense, really at all!“ they really got hung up on this lil definition of homophobes that they made up in their lil brain

"First of all, homosexuality was openly *supported* by the Nazis“, this is where I reached my limit, btw

“In fact, Trump's supporters are the Good guys at that, as history has proven abundantly.”, a paragraph down from limit reached

"your whole stance is utter nonsense; as the strong need not fear the weak, nor do they“, yeah no this isn’t even a fun thought experiment on how your weird brain works anymore since you just flat out refuse to understand what oppression is and how it works

“the Nazis were really extreme left-wing“ final but FAVORITE line of this whole conversation. The embodiment of the radical right is actually extreme left. For sure, since this whole conversation was very upside down

This was easily the most repulsive conversation I’ve ever had. And, again, I know arguing with bigots is pointless, I never expected to come out of this having converted them or anything, but to actually read the levels of denial of the real world, of real oppression, hate-crimes and the existence of... of just other view points, quite honestly - since they kept claiming “objective reality” over the “fact” that homosexuality is wrong - was... mindblowing.

Nothing makes me feel more like taking a shower, not just or my body but for my soul, than talking to someone who’ll try and act like oppression doesn’t exist.

[transsexualunderground]

so, let's talk about clara, the scrapyard engine no longer!

aka my latest ttte oc! this infodump involves quite a bit about scrapping and death, just fyi. more below the cut!

First things first, I'd like to talk about her basis. IRL none were preserved, but I present to you...

The L&YR Hughes 4-6-4T!

Real big tank engines, aren't they? 49 feet long, apparently! They were nicknamed Dreadnought tanks after the engine they were based on, L&YR Class 8, which were in turn nicknamed Dreadnoughts.

In regards to Clara herself, she has a bit of a history. On her old railway, though she has long since forgotten it, she was once nicknamed "Little Dreadnought," a rather funny nickname considering how large her class is.

But as dieselization occurred, she wasn't needed any longer. One fateful day, she was visited by some men from a scrapyard and given a choice. Either come with them and work at the scrapyard, or be scrapped. With a life or death decision before her, she decided she would live.

It just so happened this scrapyard was on Sodor.

She was granted a new nickname - Ol' Smokestack.

Life in the scrapyards wasn't easy for her at all. She bore direct witness to engine scrapping and sometimes had to bring other engines to be scrapped. She was some of their final company and even then, she didn't think she was very good company.

But eventually, she got desensitized. She continued working simply to live, and to prevent anyone else from having to bear the burden of her job. She thought she no longer felt guilt about it, but in reality, she did. Her guilt presented itself in the form of her dreading what was to come after the scrapyards, an undying feeling of her being undeserving of forgiveness or a new chance.

It was rare engines who weren't about to be scrapped spoke to her. After all, who would? She didn't blame them for it, she was the scrapyard engine. Sometimes diesels from the Other Railway who had some sort of scrap based deal with the yard came by, but they were never good conversation. Some of her best conversation lay in some boys, apprentices, who briefly visited the scrapyards. They seemed to be genuinely interested in steam engines and soon found themselves leaving after learning about what scrapping was truly like. She learned of some things then - medieval times especially from one of the particularly chatty ones.

But nevertheless, life went on for Smokestack. And it started to hurt, both mentally and physically. She did not complain about her ails, though, for fear of being scrapped. She did what she could. She was not willing or happy to be there, but she was compliant, for her own life's sake.

Then, came Wesley. At that time, he had barely been exposed to the concept of scrap. Before he arrived at the scrapyard to take one scrap train from the larger scrapyard to the smaller one on Edward's branch line (where, at that point, not many engines had been scrapped anyways, to his knowledge, despite Trevor almost having been scrapped there, but that was after that), he was warned to not talk to the scrapyard engine. He disregarded those warnings, wanting to give her a fair chance. The two struck some light conversation before Wesley left, uncomfortable in the scrapyard. Then, Wesley came to the realization that no engine would... choose to be there, right? There were two outcomes about her presence there and neither were good. Either she was there and wasn't happy to be there, or she was *enjoying scrapping other engines.* Though wary of the scrapyard, he needed to know more.

He continued working with that scrap train for some time, getting to know Smokestack. She opened up rather quickly, happy to have some better conversation. She also started informing Wesley about the scrapyard, finding it strange such an old engine barely knew about them. Wesley's realizations about how horrible this place was kept growing. He asked about what was done with the scrap, and learned that as well: it was simply put to a new use, usually. He found himself curious about it, so in between then and his next visit, he started inquiring about death, and scrap, and other things with various people and engines and rolling stock. Despite his newfound knowledge of new concepts, his thoughts on scrap remained the same: something new just happened to it.

When he arrived to the scrapyard next, Smokestack had a train for him, but something else drew his attention: what appeared to be some very fresh scrap, a husk of an engine. This started some awkward conversation between them, revealing how resigned Smokestack was to the concept of scrapping being simply something that had to happen. After some silence, Smokestack decided to change the subject. She started talking about how she once pulled a post train before all this. Wesley asked why she wasn't doing that anymore. She explained: dieselization. It wasn't the fault of the diesels themselves, and... sure, it's hard to maintain many engines. In the end, diesels were just more effective. Then she told Wesley how she came to work at that Scrapyard.

Wesley asked if she wanted to be there. She admitted she didn't. But certainly, whatever came after that would be horrible. Scrapping, or something else. She wouldn't be forgiven for the engines she had brought to their deaths, at least, that was what she thought.

Wesley opened up about his thoughts on scrap being a new beginning, and how, even then, scrapping wasn't necessarily the only option. Smokestack said the job had to be done. Better her than another engine.

So he asked what the job was like.

She answered. Listening to last words and final calls for help. Knowing how various engines took their final moments, with pride, with humor, with silence, or with fear. Some even tried to convince her to help them escape. Those were always the hardest to deal with.

They talked longer. Eventually Wesley said he was sorry she had to deal with all that. She said that she wasn't without blame, she said yes to the offer of those men.

And Wesley wondered who could blame her. It was life or death, after all.

And she told him that she could. And so could all the engines she brought to their deaths. The husk of an engine, the new one, all he wanted was to be ready before beint scrapped. The cutters didn't let him get ready. She didn't even tell them to give him a moment. She was too afraid to.

To that, Wesley said this was place was horrible and horrible for her. She could do so much better than this if only given the chance. Smokestack thought she was the only one who could handle it. Regardless of that, Wesley thought no engine should have to deal with this. He chuffed off, leaving Smokestack with much to think about.

Upon their next meeting, she asked for something. To be coupled to Wesley's train. She wanted to escape.

And she did. And it went off without a hitch. Even when she told The Fat Controller that if he simply called the scrapyard, they wouldn't have cared.

The worst part, was that, they didn't. They didn't even want her back unless it was to scrap her, or perhaps whoever was answering the phone was just very cross. They took the answer at face value, though.

And with that, Smokestack became a part of the NWR. She was granted number 42 and a coat of green paint.

Her earliest days on the railway were rather rough. She was trialling around the railway in order to figure out where she best fit, and who should be driving her and who should be her fireman and all that. It was certainly strange for some engines to be meeting the scrapyard engine as one of their own. And it was rather awkward for both parties.

She started catching onto the fact that engines around this railway had proper names, and she requested one. She ended up being named Clara by The Fat Controller. She took pride in that name. It made her feel like she fit in a bit more.

Eventually things got a bit less awkward for everyone. Clara started to adapt to the railways... after a trial in trying to hide her past from a certain diesel engine she wanted to befriend and realizing she didn't want to do that despite knowing she didnt know about her history as a scrapyard engine. She found herself enjoying work. She even found one of the old apprentices from the scrapyard, who became her fireman. And she made friends with other engines, who finally regarded her with some kindness and sympathy, and regarded her as not just the scrapyard engine. And she had good conversations. And she finally got to pull the post again, even if it wasn't exactly like before.

I'm still working on her stories. I haven't even drawn her yet. But Clara... she's getting better. And I'm very happy to say that. I love exploring lore like this so when the concept struck me to write about a scrapyard engine who didn't like their job but did it out of necessity, I had to. I'll have to post her concept poem here next (aka the poem I wrote when sudden creative spirit overtook me and made me write about an engine), and perhaps the old Scrapyard Poem I wrote from Wesley's POV even before I conceptualized Clara.

[walkonpooh]

Holly - Stephen King Review

** spoiler alert ** So in the afterward of Stephen King's newest novel, Holly (a continuation of the character Holly Gibney that first appeared in The Bill Hodges Trilogy, then The Outsider and the novella collection If It Bleeds and I believe is now his most written character other than Roland Deschain and the Ka-tet), Stephen King says that while Holly Gibney shares many of his own political beliefs and thoughts on life in the post-Trump Presidency and the time period when Covid was a national conversation, he hopes that if he were writing the opposite perspective, that he would be able to give that perspective justice. I don't know that I agree.

It doesn't take more than a brief glance at Stephen King's twitter feed to confirm that the man is obsessed with politics in the Trump era and specifically with Donald Trump himself. It could be he has always been this way and having easier and quicker access to his thoughts via social media confirms that, it's hard to say. It's clear to anyone who has ever read any one of his books, that Stephen King is a liberal. Always has been from when Carrie was published through now. So if you're reading a Stephen King book and you're mad that he's mad about Trump, then you're the problem. Not him.

I guess where I fall on this and granted, I haven't read everything of his (I've read 56 of his novels/short story collections and am working on the rest) is I feel he's gotten less adept at writing about politics, particularly in his fictional work (and his tweets to me read like MSNBC headlines, all bark no bite unlike Cujo). Like I said, he's always trashed republican politicians, even going back to the Reagan Administration, but he used to be so great at finding the voice of the modern, every day average person, regardless of that persons political view, they were a fleshed out character, that from their point of view, you could understand why they think the way they do.

I've only read If It Bleeds, Later and Holly in the Trump era (I think The Outsider was probably written before Trump), but I'm fairly positive Trump shows up in every one of those books, if only by name and every Trump supporting character is unintelligent, described in a way that gives them some sort of gross deformity or they're straight up evil. There's no attempt at examining why someone might support Donald Trump, beyond the fact that they're clearly just into authoritarianism.

There's no acknowledging the very real idea that at least in 2016, there was a group of Bernie supporters that also supported Donald Trump, because they were both espousing populist ideas. I know a lot of highly intelligent people that support Trump, but have reservations about the man himself, his actions, tweets, but love his policies. But even horrific politicians in his previous books, guys who in their respective stories like Greg Stillson, do even worse things (uh hello global nuclear war) than what Trump did in actuality, there's a kernel of understanding that Stephen King writes into them. It gives us interest and like/hate in those characters.

So yeah, it's impossible not to not talk about this, because it's such a glaring thing in the book. I don't think wrongly. In the period Holly takes place, Donald Trump, Joe Biden and Covid were large topics (I feel the same way about his treatment of unvaccinated people (I have the latest booster FYI so I'm completely vacc'd), he doesn't seem to understand there are reasons why someone might be unvaccinated other than to "own the libs"). So that out of the way...

Holly Gibney of the Finders Keepers private detective agency has a new case. Bonnie Dahl has gone missing and her mother Penny has hired Holly, based on recommendations, to find her missing daughter. Initially reluctant to take the case because she had recently lost her own mother due to complications with Covid and her own proclivities, Holly begins to look into the case, to discover that several people have gone missing in that area.

Meanwhile, Professors Rodney and Emily Harris, an elderly couple that are semi-retired, have a dark secret hidden in their basement.

Okay. So I do *not* feel this is a spoiler. Stephen King intentionally lets you know, just as he did in Mr. Mercedes, very quickly who the killer(s) are. That's certainly a method. One that, for me, Stephen King doesn't do a great job at fulfilling here. While yes, I'm, sickened by what the killer of Mr. Mercedes did, or the Harris' do here in Holly, there's no tension for me. There's not a second of this book, especially with how much Stephen King has talked about in interviews and the like, that I'm worried for Holly Gibney. I know she'll have some scars mentally and physically, but I know she's going to make it through.

I *liked* this book. I didn't love it. It was sort of middling Stephen King for me. I think where it misses the mark for me is the "Alfred Hitchcock bomb under the table" method of storytelling, where I think Hitchcock is a master at, these pseudo detective stories that Stephen King has been doing, I'm not sure they click for me in the way that he wants them to. And again, King used to be a master at this with things like "That was the last time they ever saw __________ alive". The reveals of the killers here and in Mr. Mercedes just undercuts the tension for me. There's nothing from them in the way that Stephen King has been great at in the past (making amazing, sympathetic villains). They're doing horrific stuff for minimal gains it seems like, they're what, if what they believe *is* true, which the novel undercuts, then they're extending their lives by a few years at best. That's just not all that interesting for me

Where the book does work and for me it's the same thing as in If It Bleeds, is the character of Holly Gibney. I'm with King in that she's one of the best things that he's done in the last decade. I'm just not completely on board with this having been a story worthy of Holly. Especially a titular story. I don't know that we learned anymore about Holly here than we did in previous stories with her. In fact I don't feel like there's a lot of character development at all for Holly, she's much the same at the beginning and end of the novel.

One of the reasons I *liked* the novel is the interactions between Jerome and Vera Steinman. I thought that was one aspect of the story where King absolutely nailed what he was going for here. The horror of the situation, the grief and impact of losing a loved one in a horrific way. I loved every time those two characters were with one another and would love to see Jerome, especially with his life taking off, expanded upon further.

Lastly, I feel like I'm confused about Holly's age. I don't know if it's because of the actors who have portrayed her, but my impression of Holly in The Outsider and If It Bleeds was that she was in her thirties. Was there a time skip that I'm not aware of, because King clearly states that she is in her early fifties here.

So yeah, I feel like I was mostly critical here. I'm sure many people will disagree with my thoughts here. But I love Stephen King and his works. Even when I disagree with him (not even saying I disagree with him in many topics that he covers in Holly, just don't think he was successful for me in conveying these topics). I wouldn't have read as much of him as I have if I were not. So if you liked Mr. Mercedes and that trilogy, then I would recommend Holly. If you were more into the supernatural aspects of The Outsider and If It Bleeds, well, maybe you'd be a little more middling to Holly like myself.

3/5