#time to disappear from tumblr for 800 years again

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanons

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A/n: I wanna emphasize further headcanons for Sylus cause he got me in a chokehold, NSFW isn’t a lot cause I couldn’t think of much. I hope you like this one! Also, when I was writing this, Rafayel was on my screen saying “Babe don’t move, I wanna see if I can see myself in the reflection of your eyes” I am so sorry baby boy. Also, I apologize for the separated posts, I, once again, reached the Tumblr limit. <( •̀ᴖ•́)>

Pairing: Sylus x AFAB Reader

Not beta read!

Warning: Toxic! Relationship, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Forced Drug Usage, Exhibitionism, BDSM, Sadistic! Sylus, Cussing, Blood, SYLUS! (He gets his own warning) If there are warnings that I didn’t notice, please let me know, thank you!

Masterlist Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanons (Part One)

Sylus NSFW Headcanons

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

SFW:

✄ He wouldn’t forget about the men you keep in your life; they’re so obsessed with you that they all got impacted by your disappearance, especially Rafayel, who was the one that got you into the situation, he knows that the guy was the reason why you almost died, twice? Was it thrice? Anyways that’s too much for someone who says that they loved you for 800 years, (He’s a full-time stalker, do you think his raven wouldn’t hear your conversation when that man got hospitalized?)

✄ For his amusement... he usually tends to give them little trinkets of your possessions where they live or lets you send a message to them once in a while. Just to mess with them, after all, they're the ones who got to have plenty of time with you, and yet here you are, in his home. He considers himself the winner right now.

✄ Out of all the male leads, the one he considers to be a big threat was Lumiere, the number of times he almost got caught with you, that man is crazy. (as if he isn’t) so whenever he lets you out, he makes sure you’re not identifiable, it’s simple really, he uses a device that changes your appearance to look vastly different from your looks.

✄ In terms of Physical affection, he would do it when you still despise him, he’d force you to kiss him, planting his lips on yours while you squirm from your chains, try to bite his lips, he’ll slap your thighs with a baton, specifically your inner thighs mind you, since it hurts so much more there. Yeah, keep trying to hurt him, he’ll make sure to give it back tenfold.

✄ Does he hug you? He does, though the type of hugs he gives aren’t comfortable, it’s where you can’t move, can’t leave or squirm your way out of his hold, he’s strong enough to hold you down.

✄ Cry for him! He likes seeing your tears, angry tears, or pained tears, he doesn’t care, he just wants to see you sob. While he loves that you’re bratty, he also prefers obedient mutts as stated in the first headcanons. If he needs to punish you for that he’s very much willing.

✄ He does drug you often. He likes watching you turn into a mush, a pliant pet for him, he doesn’t take advantage of you in this state though, he just gets tired of your constant squirming when he wants your cuddle after a long day of work, he’d come back to his home, his bodyguards and servants greeting him enthusiastically (they’re forced to) while you on the other hand, just spat insult after insult to him. He would appreciate the feisty personality you have if he has the energy for it.

✄ He’d grab your cheeks in a bruising grip before he grabs a pill box, finding the right drug to put you in a state where you reciprocate his love for you, he forces your jaw open before pouring 3 pills into your mouth.

✄ “Drink” he’d ordered, you gasped, trying to push the pills out of your throat, “spit it out, you’ll regret it” his voice harsh, while he forces cold water down your throat, making sure that you drank it, the moment he lets your cheeks go, you’d be coughing and gasping for air, he drenched your shirt too cause of what he did, but he doesn’t care, you’re acting like a feral dog, be ready to be treated like one.

✄ The moment the drugs start to circulate in your system, making you tired and obedient, he’ll carry you to the bed, where you were supposed to be, but didn’t like being on since that bed reminded you that you were trapped.

✄ In times like this, he turns vulnerable, asking you to tell him how much you love him, he likes hearing it, you never told him those words, and he could only hear it when you’re drugged out.

✄ You cuddle him, breathing ragged while he traces his fingers on your back, causing you to shiver, it was cold and hot at the same time, and the only comfort you feel is when you’re pressed against his body, he is the only solace you feel when you’re in this state, and you hated it.

✄ When he tells you he loves you, you respond so eagerly, like a proper mutt.

✄ He'd plant kisses on your face, his hand gently holding your back to adjust your position on his lap. Your skin, warm from the effects of the drugs, pressed against his. Seizing the moment, he continued kissing you, his lips trailing down to your neck, where he left bites, he’d savor your whimpers.

✄ Oh, but if you mention any of the male lead’s name except for him while you’re in a dreamlike state,  he’d be fuming with jealousy, but it’s not obvious, his subtle hints would be on his body language, the way his kisses became rougher, he bites your bottom lip, breaking skin and making you bleed, if you wince in pain, he’d have a sneer on his face.  His grip on your back would go to your waist, chubby or not, he’d have you under his mercy, his hands tugging your cuffs and placing your wrists on top of your head.

“Even if your brain’s a mush you never fail to hit a nerve pretty”

✄ After you fall asleep under his “care”, he’ll take care of you, changing your outfit before he tucks you to bed, you’ll often wake up alone, but with a letter that says that he’ll be expecting proper etiquette from you next time.

✄ Does he say “I love you” to you? If you’re still mad at him, he would out of spite, He would infuse it with such sweetness that it’s guaranteed to make you angrier. Honestly, he loves seeing you try to piss him off. Keep going, love; you're at least one step closer.

✄ On the other hand, once you develop Stockholm syndrome, he won’t say it much, you didn’t become boring, he just likes seeing you desperate to please him, to get his love so he stops his affections just for you to beg for it.

✄ Is it hard to withhold loving you? Nope, it’s easy for him, he lived without your constant affection, even during the months he kept you in his home, you didn’t give him the privilege of your love, so he doesn’t mind not touching you at all, not giving you the attention you want, or the verbal affirmation if he still loved you.

✄ Once you start crying and begging, that’s where he’d hush you, petting your head before he kisses your forehead.

“I’m sorry pretty, I’m here now, don’t cry” He’d coo before you hug him as if your life depended on it.

[rigaudon]

this is my new pathfinder son, Cyrus. He’s a half-elf fey bloodline sorcerer and is the only OC I’ve cared about for the past two months.

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #22

Leviathan: Do all American parties actually have those red plastic cups or is this a lie created by the movies

Leviathan: This has had like 65,000 notes and NO-ONE has answered

Luke: Because no one on tumblr has been to a party

•

Mammon: I went to an Arab-American comedy night and there was a Muslim guy making a joke about being in high school football

“I was hit so hard I saw Jesus. Do you know how hard you have to be hit to see somebody else’s god?”

•

Mammon: How did they learn to translate languages into other languages how did they know which words meant HOW DID TH

Satan:

English person: *points at an apple* Apple

French person: Non c’est une fucking pomme

*800 years of war*

•

Solomon: Hey man I haven’t heard anything from Beethoven in a while. Is he on hiatus or something?

Barbatos: Beethoven hasn’t heard anything in a while either

Lucifer: Too soon

Diavolo: HE DIED IN 1827

Satan: He’s decomposing

•

Leviathan: OMFG SO TODAY MY BROTHER’S PHONE WENT OFF AND HIS RINGTONE WAS SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A DIAMOND AND MY OTHER BROTHER STOOD UP AND SAID TURN THAT THING OFF IF I HEAR IT AGAIN I WILL PERSONALLY TRACK DOWN RIHANNA AND EXPLAIN TO HER THAT DIAMONDS DO NOT SHINE THEY REFLECT

Leviathan: Do you think this is the right time to tell my brother he’s tumblr famous now

•

Asmodeus:

GOOD LUCK ON YOUR FINAL EXAMS

GOOD LUCK ON YOUR ENTRANCE EXAMS

GOOD LUCK ON YOUR ORAL PRESENTATIONS

GOOD LUCK ON YOUR GIANT ESSAYS

GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK GOOD LUCK

d(^u^)b

Mammon: How did you do the backwards ‘b’

Satan: Try the key next to ‘f’

Mammon: G

Barbatos: And here we see someone fried from exams

•

Mammon: “Mickey mouse it says you want to divorce Minnie because she was……extremely silly?”

“No I said she was fucking goofy”

Mammon: Please stop reblogging this I stole this joke from my brother

•

Solomon: A Mexican magician tells the audience he will disappear on the count of 3. He says “uno, dos…” *poof*…he disappeared without a tres

Satan: I’m mad as fuck this stupid ass joke amused me

•

Leviathan: I’m trying to figure out when “oh it’s midnight” turned into “oh, it’s only midnight”

•

Solomon: So my friend is a priest and apparently can’t deny when I ask him to bless something so I now have a blessed laptop, blessed loaf of bread, and blessed underwear

Solomon: I just asked him to bless this post and he did

MC: This post is officially the most holy post on tumblr. Use it to banish sins from your dashboard

•

Beelzebub: Sleeping is nice because you’re not actually dead and you’re not awake so it’s a win-win situation

Belphegor: It’s like being dead without the commitment

Satan: An open relationship with death

Simeon: Death with benefits

•

Asmodeus: So one time this asshole was harassing my friend and he gave them a note that said: “hey pretty wanna date me? Yes: smile No: backflip” and like the fucking badass they are and because they’re a gymnast, they got up and did a fucking backflip in the middle of class

•

Leviathan: My family isn’t home, you know what that means

*sits in living room instead of sealing myself away in my room*

Raphael: This is too accurate

Last • Next

[kiefbowl]

I think it's important to acknowledge that access to wealth can provide an avenue to securing an abortion other women might not have access to, sure. Yes, maybe a wealthy woman or two were able to get on a plane and fly to an unrestricted country and pay out of pocket for an abortion once or twice or idk even five times. If that's happened, I'm glad they were able to do that. There are probably other ways wealth might give you an avenue that poverty blocks. However, no amount of wealth protects you from your husband's violence. It's also an insane hoop to jump to access abortion, the hypothetical plane ticket. A handful of extremely wealthy and fortunate women were maybe able to manufacture a way to secure an abortion, that doesn't mean I want poor women to have access to the same hoop to jump, access to the same hypothetical plane ticket...it means I want all women to be able to walk down the street to get an abortion uninhibited. And what of the hypothetical unrestricted country, what if those start to disappear? What is the percentage of women in the world that are part of the upper echelon that can afford space ships to planet abortion, exactly? And then once we have the number, what do we do with it? Do we execute those women or like...what.

I think the ongoing public internet discussions about abortion access wrt to wealth and to race is clumsy at best on all sides, but there is something insidious about mouthy men going on twitter and shaking their little finger going "ut uh uh, don't forget to center this conversation about how we just fucking hate some women." What is that contributing? Where is that leading us? "Let's acknowledge how privilege provides access to abortion" okay what's the next steps after that? It just seems to be a means to applaud your own "political prowess" w/o providing any meaningful discourse, and a way to veil how much you don't fucking care about women and don't give a shit about abortion except with how far it can make you appear progressive, appear feminist, appear leftist, or whatever the fuck. How many articles, twitter threads, tumblr posts, memes, reddit discussions are going to circulate that regurgitate the same condescending, posturing, escalating political language that is just meant to gesture wildly at some socio-economic concepts most people have been absorbing only through osmosis in their poorly constructed and cultivated online social media presence before people get bored and we can start discussing abortion as a de facto right that's being violated? I would love to hear well constructed arguments about wealth and race and women and abortion, but that's not coming from joe shmoe asshole extraordinaire who's never held a broom in his life and who's only political contribution in the world is sometimes remembering to register to vote and his twitter that he uses to shit endlessly on women secondary only to finding porn to like. Women have got to stop thinking these are the guys who we have to measure up to politically, because he would gladly abandon his principles to take a check, a wife, and an excuse to never use a condom again. so what exactly do we gain for aligning ourselves to some conversation about how wealthy women have wealth and white women have white privilege when everyone in that arena is really just doing it to jack themselves off?

I would rather be locked in a room with the most horrible, woman hating, conservative, pro-life, unethically wealthy woman for 800 years to only discuss abortion than spend one iota of a brain cell registering another hot wet fart of a take about wealthy women from any man, and from women who can't be bothered to log-off. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hellish, I'm just saying I would rather do an 800 year nightmare than listen to one more "actually" who's only point is to derail a conversation about abortion than contribute to it. AGAIN - you point out wealthy women could have access to abortion, and the follow through is what? How does that help poor women? We're not writing a term paper, we're discussion laws that are deteriorating PRESENTLY. Currently. Materially. Right the fuck now, in the real world.

It just proves that people are extremely uncomfortable with abortion and even more uncomfortable putting any responsibility on men. Let us not forget that the cause of an abortion is some man's ejaculate. Ejaculation causes abortion, ejaculation causes unwanted children. Women could be at peace about abortion forever if men decided to never ever ejaculate inside women ever again. So let's start the conversation there, actually. We can get to hypothetical wealthy women buying hypothetical plane tickets later, let's talk about men and their non-hypothetical ejaculate first.

[misscarolineshelby]

Spanked

Part Two: First Day

Pairing: Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader Words: 1,345 Warning: None…This is only the beginning!

Original Blog: @queenshelby (this is just my backup account as I have been having Tumblr issues)

When you told your friends and roommates about what had happened to you that morning, they couldn’t believe it.

Whilst you were excited to be working for one of the largest enterprises in the UK, they were more intrigued by the fact that you were going to work directly for Thomas Shelby who was a well-known business man and who was quite popular with the ladies across the country.

The 39-year-old had quite a reputation which is what attracted these women. But you decided that you wouldn’t be one of them.

According to your friend, he was the perfect mix between an elegant business owner and a working a class man. He was different to many others out there and, unlike the other men in charge of other big corporations in the UK, he had built his wealth by himself.

Of course, when you read his name on the business card, you remembered reading the rumours in the papers. According to the London Telegraph, he was said to be involved in some illegal businesses as well and it was believed that he had built his empire through drug trafficking and illegal race fixing. But these were just rumours. Thomas Shelby hadn’t served any prison time and was never convicted of any crimes. It was only his brother, Arthur Shelby, who was charged with two murders but never convicted.

He was also involved in politics, having acted as an MP until it became too boring for him. Luckily for him, he maintained connections to other politicians and judges and, miraculously, he had no problems getting licences for any and all of his business operations.

But none of this bothered you much. You saw this job as an opportunity and stepping stone of some sort.

***

Despite your lack of interest in the man himself though, you listened to your friend’s advice when it came to appropriate office attire.

‘You cannot possibly wear this’ your roommate said as she watched you put on a grey coloured suit and a black blouse.

‘That’s what you wear to an office though’ you said somewhat confused while looking into the mirror.

‘Men like something to look at. At least wear a dress and show some legs. You never know, you might even find your prince charming’ your roommate then said with a cheeky smile before disappearing into her room and returning with three dresses for you to choose from.

Of course, she had a point. You had been single for two years and, before that, you had one boyfriend who was just as nerdy as you were. He was your first and your last.

After trying on all three dresses, you chose an elegant knee length black dress but, when you put on some stockings and shoes, your roommate shook her head again.

‘Oh god no. Please let me style you’ your roommate insisted.

‘No, I don’t have time’ you huffed out, looking at your watch.

‘I will style you up for your first day and then I will call you a taxi. I will use my father’s credit card. He won’t even notice’ your roommate said and, after some convincing, you reluctantly agreed.

Your roommate quickly found some suspenders and stockings in her draws and made you put them on. Then, she looked for some shoes, but none of the ones she owned would fit you.

Eventually, she found a pair of black high heels in your other roommate’s wardrobe who, luckily, had the same shoe size as you.

Finally, she applied your make up and straightened your hair. It looked perfect and she was certainly impressed with her own work.

‘Holy shit, I am fucking awesome’ your roommate then said and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘I look good’ you said somewhat surprised as you looked into the large mirror in your bedroom.

‘You fucking do. Go and get yourself a suitor’ she teased you and you shook your head.

‘No, I am there to work, not to flirt. Despite, I don’t even know how to flirt’ you admitted and your roommate couldn’t help but giggle.

***

When you arrived at the offices of Shelby Company Limited, you were greeted by a tall dark-haired woman who showed you to your new office.

It was near the reception area and you were surprised by the layout of the building. Everything was made of glass and the floors looked like marble. It was incredible.

Lizzie explained to you how things worked around the office and told you that you would be reporting to a man by the name of Michael Grey.

‘I thought I will be reporting to Mr Shelby’ you said somewhat surprised, causing her to laugh.

‘Sweetheart, please don’t flatter yourself. You are here on your merit but no one new reports directly to Mr Shelby apart from me and Michael Grey. He only likes to deal with people he knows and trusts’ Lizzie said before handing you your office swipe card and a stack of files for you to look at it.

Just as you sat down and Lizzie took a seat right next to you, talking you through the accounting software the company uses, you saw Tommy enter the reception area.

He was accompanied by a tall blonde woman who was wearing expensive clothes and was carrying a Louis Vuitton handbag.

‘Who is this?’ you asked curiously, causing Lizzie to look up from the computer.

‘Elaine Sutton. Apparently, she is the flavour of the month. He likes attractive women who don’t talk much, which makes her perfect’ Lizzie chuckled, seemingly annoyed by the woman.

‘How did you become Mr Shelby’s personal assistant?’ you then asked and Lizzie chuckled again.

‘I’ve known Thomas since he was eighteen. I used to be married to his brother, John Shelby, before he passed away’ Lizzie said and you were surprised by her directness and openness about it.

‘Any more questions or can we get back to work now?’ she then said and you apologised to her immediately.

***

Throughout the day, you developed an investment scheme to lower the tax rates the company was otherwise required to pay in the next financial year. This was what you had mentioned to Tommy at the café and you assumed that it was what he wanted you to do when Lizzie handed you the relevant files.

As you were working through them one by one, you also became to notice that Tommy himself was quite the talking point between the women in the office.

His blue eyes, his expensive suits and what tie he was wearing was on today’s agenda in the lunchroom and you couldn’t help but be amused.

Then, all of a sudden, there was dead silence. The room went quiet and no one said a word as the man himself entered the lunch room.

‘Can I get you anything Mr Shelby?’ one of the service employees asked nervously.

‘Can you tell me where the cable ties are kept, please?’ he said in his low gruffy voice and, just when the employee nodded and told him that she would fetch some for him, he approached you.

‘Office attire suits you much better than coffee-stained clothes Y/N’ he observed, causing you to swallow harshly, smile and nod.

‘Thank you for the opportunity, Mr Shelby’ you stammered out in response just as the service clerk returned with some cable ties for Tommy and he walked off.

‘He knows your name’ a short brunette woman observed. ‘I’ve been working here for a year and he hasn’t even noticed me’ she then said before offering you a cup of tea which you gladly accepted.

‘Well, I spilled hot coffee onto him yesterday at the Coffee Bean Café across the road which probably made stick’ you said somewhat embarrassed, causing the woman to laugh before introducing herself to you.

Her name was Emily and she was also working in the business advisory department. Just like you, she was smart and nerdy and you knew that you would be getting along well.

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian  @queenyshelby ​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​  @midnightmystic​

[imaginethatneathuh]

Winter is Beautiful: Technical Boy - American Gods

I had to cut this in half because Tumblr wouldn't let me post it all as one.

Partially inspired by one of @random-imagines-blog Technical Boy posts.

Done for @atomicdetectivehideout‘s December challenge (yes, I know I’m a day late, shut up).

I’m not good at romance.

Fluff.

Word count: 4.4K+

Second Part

You smiled at the trees, barren and lifeless, all except the pines.

The pines were strong and sturdy. That beautiful pine green, even in the dead of winter. A faint hint of brown spiked the otherwise green needles. A sign of Death and Disease knocking on the trees' door.

The faint sound of Winter-ready birds hung in the air. Their song, even compared to the sunset, was something to behold. The rustle of the trees as the birds flew between the branches reminded you of days long past.

You inhaled the cold, country, Winter air. As you breathed out, a puff of smoke spread out. The warmth of your breath soon dissipated as the frozen air overtook it. dissipating. You smiled, satisfied.

The cool, pale yellows, blues, and pinks of the sunset waltzed across the sky. Not even the chilly air, which was sure to get worse, could dissuade you from spending time that night under the stars, especially on a night like tonight.

While the alignment of Jupiter and Saturn was not the main focus, it certainly helped to convince Technical Boy to come along. It was a "Once every 800 years" kind of event. Something that he would never get the chance to see again.

It had taken forever to get the tech god to agree. You hadn't expected anything less. He was him, but you were also you. Both equally stubborn in your own ways.

Speaking of the devil, the young god stood beside you, wrapped in far too many layers.

A beanie donned his head, along with a scarf, gloves, a Winter coat with two sweaters underneath (both of which you hadn’t the chance to see), a pair of jeans, snow pants, and winter boots.

It was beyond excessive in your eyes.

"You don't need all of those, T," you said. "You'll be fine."

He scoffed. Both of his hands wrapped around his upper arms, rubbing them.

"Like Hell," he mumbled teeth chattering.

How he could still be cold with all those layers was a mystery to you.

A blanket hung over your shoulder as you looked back at him.

"Let's just go."

"Home?" He asked, perking up a little.

"No, to the meadow."

Technical Boy groaned as he walked after you stiffly, following as closely behind as he could. The thick snow pants on top of jeans were hard to walk with.

Sure, the snow was a little high, but no higher than it usually was here around the Solstice.

A part of you wanted to grab his hand, just to hold it, but you thought better of it.

It wouldn’t be like it was the first time you’d held hands. The two of you had done it a thousand times. Okay, maybe that’s an over-exaggeration, but the point still remains; it wasn’t a big deal. Well, it shouldn’t be a big deal.

So, why not just take his hand?

Maybe because in the last few months, how you felt about him changed. When he smiled at you; or even just looked in your direction, it was like the world stopped moving. Your heart raced when he touched you. At times, you thought he could hear your heart pounding in your chest, especially when the two of you would lie together and cuddle. When he’d ‘Hmm?’ when you said something to him, your heart would turn to goop.  When he joked with you, you laughed harder than usual. Even just being around him made you feel this warmth deep inside. This feeling of being known without thinking he’d shame you for anything. It was slightly addicting but in a good way.

And as much as there had been a change in you, maybe there had been a slight change in him, too. Sometimes, when you stayed over at his place, he’d offer you his clothes if you wanted to take a shower. That way you wouldn’t have to wear dirty clothes after getting clean. That’s the excuse he always used anyway. There were times when he stayed at your place where he’d get all nervous about sleeping in the same bed together, even though you’d done it before, and he hadn’t had a problem then. He showed you affection and kindness and rarely said anything bad or rude about/to your family. He was kinder and sweeter now, less of a cat, more of a dog.

You also noticed things about him that you hadn’t before. Like the way he’d look at you with that big, goofy, adorable smile and how his eyes would shine brighter than the sun, the moon, and all of the stars when he saw you. Or how any time he hugged you, he would nuzzle into your neck and hang on for a little longer than most people. There were the times when Technical Boy would get hyper-focused on something and zone out. He looked adorable every time.

But there were also things you think you looked too much into. Like the little surprise visits and gifts he gave felt like more than what a friend would do. Before, you’d never noticed how much he’d look at you or how much more playful he was around you than most people. Of course, you’d never let yourself hope for more. He was a god, after all.

•

The two of you trudged through the snow as the sun set ahead of you. The pale colours of the evening gave way to the rich, dark blue of the night. Stars twinkling like diamonds suspended high in the sky.

For a moment, you thought you'd have to start pulling Technical Boy along. Thankfully, he kept up, even with all the layers.

"I was not built for the cold, Y/N,” he said.

You forged ahead. Trying (and failing) to suppress a smile, you looked behind you before turning back front.

"You're not used to the cold, that's all."

He whimpered, dashing to get back to your side. It was warmer than when he was by himself.

"How 'bout we just go back, yeah? Go back to the cabin? Where it's warm."

Stopping in the snow, letting it soak into your jeans, you faced him.

"If it bothers you that much, you can go back, but I'm not."

You didn't want him to go. He was the reason you wanted to come out here tonight in the first place. It wouldn't be right without him. Besides, two bodies are warmer than one.

Technical Boy looked between the warmth of the cabin that he so badly craved and you, the reason he was willingly out here, freezing his arse off.

Eventually, he chose to follow you, stepping to your side.

The snow flew up with every step. Some of it was packed beneath his boots, other bits stuck on them, but at least he wasn’t being drenched by it.

•

As you got to a fenced-in field, a smile spread across your face.

It was almost entirely dark now. The last vestiges of light from the sun were blinking out, disappearing behind the horizon. The stars and the half-moon became your only guide.

You giggled and looked behind you, still smiling widely.

"Come on," you said, offering your hand to Technical Boy.

He stayed where he was, a worried look on his face.

Your hand fell as you sighed.

"Really, T?"

The god shuffled backwards.

The low, barbed-wire fencing stood between you and your favourite place in the world. Besides maybe with Technical Boy.

Near an old, what you assumed to be, power box lay a dip in the fencing. The fencing had been bent and broken years ago, long before you ever came to the meadow.

Using one of the old, wooden posts the wire was wrapped around, you hopped over.

Breathing deeply, you face away from the dirt road and to the pure, untouched snow of the pasture. Your eyes closed as the wind whipped by.

Technical Boy whined behind you, reminding you of a puppy who wanted attention.

You turned to face him, a renewed light inside you.

"Come on, don't be a wuss," you said. "It's just a fence."

He looked at the fencing, then at you, bouncing side to side.

"Fine, be a wuss, but I'm going to enjoy the pasture."

You twisted back to the snowy, rolling hills far away.

"I'm not a wuss," he said.

You looked over your shoulder with a smirk and said, "Prove it then."

Technical Boy, scowling, glared at the fencing and stepped forward.

“Do we really have to do this? I mean, it’s fucking freezing out here. Not to mention, it’s really stupid. There are apps made for stargazing for crying out loud! We can stargaze where it’s warm, believe it or not,” he complained.

While his point about the apps was fair, the app could never capture the beauty of watching the stars with the naked eye.

"T," you tease in a singsong voice.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm coming." Technical Boy gripped the post you did when you hopped over. "Don't rush me."

"The sun has already set. We don't have time for this."

That wasn’t true. The stars would be there for hours to come, but you had to get him moving somehow.

With another small whine and some mental encouragement, the god hopped over. Now on the same side as you, he backed away from the fence, facing it.

He turned to you lethargically like he was bored, and glared at you.

“Great, I’m over here. Now what?”

Unable to resist, you snickered.

“What?”

You shrugged.

“Nothing, you just sound really fucking bored. I can’t combine that with the shivering you. It just doesn’t work in my head.”

He rolled his eyes and walked toward you.

“Whatever,” he said before rubbing his hands together and breathing into them.

You wiped your freezing nose with your equally cold hand, sniffing.

Eyebrows furrowed, Technical Boy took off one of his gloves and pressed a hand to your cheek.

You tried to bat it away, but he ignored it.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you're freezing," he worries. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You pushed him away slightly, his hands drifting to your upper arms.

"It's nothing I haven't handled before."

"Come here," he said.

He shed his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders. Taking his scarf off, he coiled it around your neck, tucking it over your nose sweetly. You giggled as he moved his hands to grasp yours.

"You feel like ice," he comments.

You shook your head, a smile plastered on your face.

"I'm fine, T. Let's just enjoy the night."

"What if you get sick!"

You sighed.

"I'm not going to get sick."

"That's what they all say," he said, pulling you close. "But then starts the sniffling and the coughing and sneezing. Not to mention the fever!"

You laughed at him. Pushing away, you took off and wrapped the scarf back around Technical Boy's neck. You glanced down to hide your giggles, but you’re greeted by a peculiar sight.

Covering your mouth, you stared at his chest.

He looked down at his sweater.

"What?"

"I can't believe you're wearing that."

He pulled it down, pouting.

"Your mother gave it to me. Plus, it's also almost Christmas. I thought it was festive."

You burst out laughing.

The ugly Rudolph the Reindeer sweater looked so stupid on him, you just couldn't help it.

"Y/N, don't be mean. I'm sure it took her forever to find one this ugly."

You kept laughing and pulled him into a hug, burying your head into his neck.

"I love you, you dumbass," you said, pushing away.

He smiled at you.

"I love you, too."

It may have been from the cold and wind, but you could have sworn there was a hint of pink on his cheeks.

You handed him back his coat.

"No, Y/N, you need it."

Instead of taking no for an answer, you tossed it onto his face.

As it fell off, Technical Boy caught it and gave you a look. The "done with your bullshit" look he often gave.

You just smiled over your shoulder and laid down the blanket over the snow.

•

The two of you stared up at the sky. For the first time since you managed to pull Technical Boy out here, it was quiet. Save for the wind rustling the branches and the coyotes howling far off in the distance. Some might be afraid of them, but not you. They were comforting. Familiar really.

Taking a deep breath, you could smell the clean snow. It was like water but cooler. As you'd expect from ice.

So enraptured by the peace, you hadn't noticed Tech staring at you with one of those rare, soft smiles on his face.

"Why'd you bring me out here," he asked.

Breaking from the serenity, you turned to look at him. His face fairer than usual because of the light reflecting off the snow from the half-moon.

"I wanted to stargaze with you."

Technical Boy nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer. Keyword is "seemingly".

"Okay," he said, turning back to the sky, a pink hint to his cold cheeks. "But you never bring anyone out here. Not home, not to the cabin, and definitely not here. You only ever talk about this place like it’s a far-off memory. You don't even take the animals out here."

You sighed.

The stars glittered with the glowing moon.

"It's my quiet place," you said. "Where I go when I'm not really there. When all else fails, I can always come here." Looking at the sky, you smiled. "It's the most important place in the world to me. I guess, I just wanted to share that with you." You looked down and rubbed your arm.

Technical Boy let a smile spread across his face.

Cupping your cheek, he guided you to face him.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said. "I mean it."

You smiled back.

Technical Boy wrapped an arm around you and laid his head on your shoulder.

You watched the stars, Jupiter and Saturn's alignment shining amongst them.

[awesomeorangepumpkins]

tgcf made me do it

I don’t post on tumblr ever? I don’t even know why I feel compelled to say that. I don’t have followers. I’m just a quiet lurker that follows and reblogs and has commented like twice.

But I just read Tian Guan Ci Fu/Heaven Official's Blessing and it doesn’t have a huge english speaking audience? There’s a little bit on reddit and a little bit in tumblr, nothing that I can find on ao3. I’ve posted a few sad tweets because its’ been almost 24 hours now since I finished the story and my heart and brain are so obsessed. Normally when you read something so massive (1992 PAGES on my kobo reader for all 5 books), it’s really rare that the story hangs together all the way through. I read it translated. An aside, holy fuck are these translators AMAZING for translating such a huge thing so quickly. I wonder how much I’ve lost. I’ve never so badly wished I could read another language. I’ve been sad I can’t speak spanish, but I read in english, there’s TONS of awesome stuff to read in english, even at the pace I read, it’s been great. 

tl;dr I went into this with low expectations, but while I HATE the huge flashback in the untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi, I LOVE the characters. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are incredibly compelling. I’ve explored it almost exclusively through some amazing fanfic, but I personally don’t think it invalidates anything. 

The problem is that now I’m fucked. I have read this TGCF masterpiece. I don’t see how the story could possibly have been shorter. The flashback device was actually fucking necessary here. The characters were brilliant (I dislike the scream-y-ness of Feng Xin and Mu Qing, but that’s 10000% personal problems). The relationships absolutely skewered me. I can only think of one other plot that blew me away as much as this (Ancillary Series).

And I have no way of handling this? I’ve already read the extras. There’s no fanfic that I can find in english. The donhua hasn’t come out yet. There’s mostly people trying to find or read the story and no one talking about how it wrecked them. There’s lots of gorgeous art. That’s mostly how I’ve been feeding my soul. Art and the manhua.

Anyways, I need to flail. Spoilers ahoy below the cut.

Two tiny quibbles before I get into how unstructured flailing: I really wish I could read this in the original because 1) what happened to the newer young Lang Ying??????? 2) was it ever explained why baby Hua Cheng (Hong Hong-er?) didn’t want to show his face? I thought maybe it was the the first sign of human face disease, but then that seemed to not really be it? Maybe because this was such a massive story, MXTX just left those bits dangling and couldn’t stomach spending any more time editing?

Did anyone else have a few moments where they wondered if Hua Cheng was Jun Wu or White No-Face? Like in Book 1 before you really knew what the fuck had happened? I think in Book 2 (maybe? this shit became a blur, maybe it was later) I started having inklings that Jun Wu was White No-Face and it was really clear that the little boy, the soldier, the nameless general, and the determined ghost fire were all Hua Cheng from the second those characters appeared, but the fact that baby Hua Cheng wouldn’t let Xie Lian remove his face coverings made me think we were supposed to be suspicious of ... something?

BUT. Then Book 4 happens and I couldn’t absorb any of it while it was happening. Book 3 ends in such a cliff-hanger and Book 4 is designed to force you off that cliff and shred you into pieces. I was so obsessed to how on earth Xie Lian was going to get out of the kiln that I was probably halfway through Book 4 before I realized just what it meant that the 800 years happened AFTER Book 4. Like fuck. That timeline hit me like a tidal wave. I’m still at sea.

It’s bad enough that Xie Lian was stabbed 100 times without dying and Hua Cheng was already in love with him and watched it happen. It’s already bad enough that Hua Cheng prevented the second wave of the Human Face Disease in Yong’an and basically saved Xie Lian from that horrible mistake and was blasted into pieces for it. It’s already bad enough that Hua Cheng DIED on the battle field believing absolutely in Xie Lian. It’s already bad enough that you realize that the whole REASON Hua Cheng made 33 gods disappear before Xie Lian could ascend for the 3rd time because Hua Cheng had to watch Xie Lian be humiliated when Hua Cheng was powerless to help or support or even really let Xie Lian know he was there. 

Then you realize that for eight. hundred. years. after all of this Hua Cheng has been trying to find Xie Lian again and Xie Lian has been slowly unfucking himself from his messed up sense of pride and hubris and the pain he went through while thinking he’s completely alone. The fucking bamboo hat. Rouye. If Rouye doesn’t tell you WHAT kind of person Xie Lian is underneath his puffed up pride and inflated sense of self, I don’t know what else does. I just. I’m sure I’ve absolutely not conveyed how insane these characters and this relationship arc is. I haven’t even gotten into the villian or the other characters that fill out this world or the PLOT of this story, but Hua Cheng and Xie Lian. fuck. fuck. The extras DO NOT HELP make up for this pain. There was 800 YEARS between when Hua Cheng got blasted into pieces saving Xie Lian from the most shameful moment of his fall from grace and Hua Cheng holding Xie Lian’s hand to help him out of the wedding ... litter/sedan.

I’m dead.

[virareve]

Summary: 

“Didn’t you hear? Kit Tarth’s a Lannister!”

Twenty-five years after Brienne and Jaime went their separate ways, they reunite for their daughter Catelyn’s wedding.

Chapter posted at link and below (for those who prefer reading on Tumblr):

When was the last time Brienne had allowed herself to dream about love?

When she was a girl, still blessed with naivete and optimism of the young, she dreamed of marrying her fairytale prince on the shores of Morne. She would join herself to her husband in the shadows of the castle that Ser Galladon had once resided. Her parents would stand in witness, eyes filled with tears. Alysanne and Arianne would be grown women with loves of their own by then, excited for the day they too would marry. Galladon, her beloved brother, would be the one to walk her before the septon. The sun would shine its familiar, gentle warmth, and the sea would shine its brilliant blue that her father claimed was matched by no other blue but her eyes. The wind would make her hair flutter around her like a halo, and as she promised herself to the man she would stand by forever, he’d see her at that moment, sunlit and wild. He would think her the sun and moon made flesh.

For reasons tragic and practical, that dream would never be. The cliffs in Morne had become unstable from years of tourist use. Her mother and siblings had all died before her tenth year, and her father had passed just the last year. She had no prince.

But The Seven had given her a different gift. Her daughter, Catelyn, Kit as she was called early on, was Brienne’s greatest accomplishment. Brienne had once wanted to be the fairytale princess, but raising one, gave a different sort of pleasure from what that fantasy prince would have.

Fortunately, Kit would never know the same heartbreak Brienne had when it came to love. Love came to Kit early on in life in the form of Sansa’s oldest boy Ned. It took over two decades for the best friends to articulate the deep-seated feelings, but they were past that now. And had reached the stage few made where fantasy turned reality. Oftentimes as she contemplated Kit and Ned over the last few years, Brienne wondered if she had ever worn the same look of love.

“Champagne?”

Brienne startled as someone slid into the chair beside her and held out a glass of chilled bubbly.

“Jaime,” she greeted, surprised to see him. They had not spoken in two days. She glanced speculatively at the glasses in his hand, raising a brow. “A bit past the point for champagne isn’t it?” Speeches and toasts had all well been hours ago and if what she remembered about Jaime still rang true, bubbly was not his preferred choice of drink.

“Tyrion is going around trying to convince people to drink more of that godsawful Northern shit he gifted Kit and Ned,“ Kit’s father smirked. “Arm yourself before he tries to convince you to take a horn.” He passed a glass over to her. His fingers were dry and warm.

If she were a lesser person, Brienne thought her breath might have hitched, shocked to press even the slightest skin against his. “I can’t believe he bought 800 horns of fermented goat's milk. We’ll be lucky if the Giantsbanes can finish one.”

Jamie snorted. “He just found out I was once with someone who wasn’t Cersei. And had a kid at that. To him, it’s like Sevenmas came early.”

Brienne nodded, giving him a stiff smile and looked at the dance floor...only to end up cringing with motherly embarrassment. A horn toting Kit looked like she was about to perform a very public lap dance for a delighted and equally sloshed (and horn holding) Ned to the tune of the wedding party hit “The Bear and the Maiden Fair” by the Brave Companions. Several guests had their phones out, hooting the bride and groom on, and Brienen resigned herself to a 4K replay on Ravenbook tomorrow.

Her eyes slid over to Jaime, curious to see what he would think. He looked amused and directed her to check out Tommen on the opposite side of the dance floor.

“Ree’s going to eat him alive,” she commented as Tommen looked equally terrified and aroused as Sansa’s oldest girl plastered herself all over him.

“If she wasn’t the spitting image of her mother, I’d be certain she was Margaery’s,” Jaime laughed.

Brienne missed that sound. It was genuine, light, and carefree. It tugged and plucked at her wound up heartstrings. She’d worked so hard to prepare herself for seeing him again, but their twenty-four years of separation had done little. Maybe if he’d been angry at how long he’d had to go before Kit would reach out to him to meet on Tarth for her wedding week, it might have been easier to brush off any residual feelings. Jaime was not. He’d been genial from the beginning. The only friction, if it could be called that, was his continued insistence that he help pay for the wedding but even that was a pleasant insistence to help out.

From his first interaction with Kit at the Sunday family clambake to the ceremony and reception, he’d been nothing but pleasant and civil with her. And he was absolutely enamored with his youngest child.  He hadn’t tried to bring up either time in Winterfell and only brought up Kit, his children, and his work when they were near each other for placid small talk. It was all going along extremely well and yet Brienne could not relax, she couldn’t stop waiting for something to go wrong now that he was here.

“I was hoping we could talk,” Jaime said, breaking the quiet spell between the two. There was a rhythmic thud starting on the ground near their feet. Brienne looked down instead of looking at him and noticed the heel of his shoe sole was tapping against the ground in a discordant beat.

“What’s it now?” she sighed, “The DJ? The videographer? Sansa and I already settled it.”

Jaime gave her a measured look.

“Wench, you know I’m not here to talk about the bill.”

She shook her head. “Don’t call me that,” she said, severely. She got up from her chair. “Thanks for the drink. That reminds me that I should check in with the bartender.”

Jaime jumped up. “Brienne,” he huffed, “I’ve been treating you with kid gloves all week. I gave you space at the rehearsal last night and then today because I understood how important Kit’s wedding is, but you can’t seriously expect us not to talk about this.”

Brienne pursed her lips. “It would be easier for us if you didn’t.”

“Easier for who?” he asked, waving a hand between them. “It doesn’t make it easy if we don’t talk.”

Brienne stepped past him. “I’m not doing this with you again.”

Jaime released a deep exhale.

“It’s a little late for that,” he called after her. “I was hoping we’d get to talk yesterday morning but we never got to have a proper conversation because someone decided to leave before I woke up.”

Brienne was thankful everyone had vacated this area of  tables for the dance floor so that there were no witnesses when she blushed. But not too far off some of Kit’s friends watched them curiously. Everyone was clearly interested in whatever her shared history with Jaime was. After it became known among the guests that small town, island rose Kit Tarth was actually the child of one of the wealthiest men in the Six Kingdoms, friends and distant family were eager for further details.  But no one outside Sansa, not Kit, not Margaery, not the rest of the Starks, knew. And Sansa and Brienne were not willing to divulge details.

Brienne released an annoyed exhale and looked back at him. “Fine, follow me.” She hurried them out of the view of the celebrating couple, out of the sight of nosy guests, and past the observing eye of the knowing few who looked at them with some sort of expectation. She brought him to the unlit, cordoned off gardens of Evenfall, and he followed her, hovering like an impatient puppy at her heels. She stopped abruptly when they reached her mother’s old hibiscus garden. She whipped around to face him. Jaime stumbled back. A nighttime breeze caught in his shirt, rippling under his shirt and exaggerating his step back.

“Why won’t you leave this alone?” she hissed, trying to make herself look looming and menacing.

Jamie made a grumbled complaint under his breath. “I love you,” he declared, deadpan and apropos of nothing.

Brienne’s jaw dropped. “ Excuse me? ”

“I love you,” Jaime repeated, briefly looking as if he might enjoy seeing how much he’d shocked her. “I never stopped.”

“You can’t mean that! You don’t know me,” Brienne countered, feeling half dizzy and half breathless from the whiplash of Jaime’s declaration. “It’s been too long. I’ve changed! You’ve changed!”

“I’ve had a week to see you’re still everything I fell in love with,” he argued, “I know I’ll fall in love with all the new things about you that I haven’t learned yet.”

“You’re insane,” she declared, backing away.

“Wait.” He stepped toward her, holding a hand up like he was approaching a skittish animal. “Please listen to me.”

“Jaime,” she warned. She warily watched him. The breeze continued to dance around them, picking strands of her hair up and causing them to glint as they refracted moonlight.

He stopped, mesmerized by the vision of her cast in luminescence. “Did you know I dream of you?” he confessed in earnest. “Even after all these years, you still visit me from time to time when I sleep. And when I wake, I hate myself for breaking your heart.”

Brienne pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to revisit Winterfell and revisit those experiences in the frozen North. But her mind disregarded her and she flashed into those dark memories. And despite the warm summer air, Brienne turned cold as if she was back in Winterfell, and the chill was seeping into her bones.

“I let you disappear from my life to make up for how I wronged you,” Jaime continued. “And I know it was the right thing to do, but every time I think about it, it feels like I made a mistake.” She watched his hand ball into a fist at his side. “Brienne, there’s never been anyone else for me.”

Once upon a time, Brienne had hoped to hear such ardent words from Jaime but he’d firmly shown her she wasn’t enough. “Why are you talking to me like a Hallmark card?” she asked, “Is this about Kit?”

“Kit?” Jaime looked at her, incredulously. “Why the Seven would it be about Kit?” he grumbled. “This is about you..”

“Why?” Brienne pressed him.

Jaime rubbed a hand down his face, “Because you’re worth going head-to-head with your willful bullheadedness until you hear what I’m literally spelling out for you.”

“What about Cersei?” she reminded him, invoking the specter.

“There is no Cersei. There hasn’t been for years.”

Brienne’s mouth dropped open into a wide “O” of surprise. “Why? When?”

“I was different after the second time in Winterfell,” Jaime admitted. “Realizing what I lost with you and Kit...it forced me to confront everything that led me to that point and I couldn’t be what Cersei wanted anymore once I was back. Eventually, she ran off with Osmund Kettleback and I got custody of the kids. I’ve tried to reach out to her, but she’s virtually gone. I’ve heard of her appearing on the arm of some billionaire or another at society events but she’s never contacted us and the children gave up on her years ago.

“I’m sorry,” Brienne said, relieved to know she might never see Cersei again. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Good riddance works.”

“Oh.” Brienne was surprised by his vehemence.

Jaime looked at her, and stepped closer, pulling one of her hands into his. “I know I have no right to ask it of you, but I can’t have you not understand. I didn’t bring you back to my room for a drunk romp, I brought you back because I’ve wanted you for so long. And I thought you understood my intentions until I woke up and you were gone. I’ve missed you all this time. I just need you to understand and I want to know what it will take. If I have to climb the Eyrie barehand, backpack the furthest edge of the True North, walk the Wall coast-to-coast, I will. Let me prove  to you how serious I am.”

Brienne swallowed. She rarely thought of it these days, but every time she turned to those days in Winterfell, she felt herself sink under it’s emotional weight. But this man before he wasn’t him and that had to be worth exploring at the very least. So very softly, she whispered, “Okay.” She squeezed the hand that held hers right back.

Jaime grinned and tugged her closer to him, asking her a question that went in one ear and out the other.

She searched his face, dazed to be this close. “What did you say?”

Jaime chuckled, “Don’t play coy with me, wench. How about it? One dance. I’ll go easy on you tonight but tomorrow I’m turning up the Lannister charm.”

Brienne sputtered. Her mouth opening and closing in a pantomime of a beached fish.

Jaime waved a hand, “Okay, got it. So no Lannister charm tomorrow. Monday then. So how about it. One ‘no-stakes’ dance?”

“I suppose there’s no harm in that,” she agreed.

“Of course there isn’t,” Jaime beamed, but his face wavered, seeming to jump back and forth with the earnest and passionate soft underbelly he had exposed to her and the charismatic front he was choosing to fall back on in the hopes it would make her more comfortable, “but there’s no harm in dancing all night with me if you feel so inclined. With the exception of our daughter, Myrcella, and Tommen, if Ree Stark ever lets him go, my dance card is reserved exclusively for you.”

Brienne blushed. “One dance,” she reiterated, “and then we’ll see where we go from there.”  

Jaime’s face lit up and she remembered how good it had actually felt to fall in love with him in the ruins of the Stark’s ancient castle. Perhaps it could be easier now. He held up their hands, fixing their hold so that her hand was being held delicately in it like a princess’. He leaned forward and kissed it. “I can work with that.”

[nasa]

Did somebody say space laser?

We’re set to launch ICESat-2, our most advanced laser instrument of its kind, into orbit around Earth on Sept. 15. The Ice, Cloud and land Elevation Satellite-2 will make critical observations of how ice sheets, glaciers and sea ice are changing over time, helping us better understand how those changes affect people where they live. Here’s 10 numbers to know about this mission:

One Space Laser

There’s only one scientific instrument on ICESat-2, but it’s a marvel. The Advanced Topographic Laser Altimeter System, or ATLAS, measures height by precisely timing how long it takes individual photons of light from a laser to leave the satellite, bounce off Earth, and return to ICESat-2. Hundreds of people at our Goddard Space Flight Center worked to build this smart-car-sized instrument to exacting requirements so that scientists can measure minute changes in our planet’s ice.

Sea ice is seen in front of Apusiaajik Glacier in Greenland. Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/Jim Round

Two Types of Ice

Not all ice is the same. Land ice, like the ice sheets in Greenland and Antarctica, or glaciers dotting the Himalayas, builds up as snow falls over centuries and forms compacted layers. When it melts, it can flow into the ocean and raise sea level. Sea ice, on the other hand, forms when ocean water freezes. It can last for years, or a single winter. When sea ice disappears, there is no effect on sea level (think of a melting ice cube in your drink), but it can change climate and weather patterns far beyond the poles.

3-Dimensional Earth

ICESat-2 will measure elevation to see how much glaciers, sea ice and ice sheets are rising or falling. Our fleet of satellites collect detailed images of our planet that show changes to features like ice sheets and forests, and with ICESat-2’s data, scientists can add the third dimension – height – to those portraits of Earth.

Four Seasons, Four Measurements

ICESat-2’s orbit will make 1,387 unique ground tracks around Earth in 91 days – and then start the same ground pattern again at the beginning. This allows the satellite to measure the same ground tracks four times a year and scientists to see how glaciers and other frozen features change with the seasons – including over winter.

532 Nanometer Wavelength

The ATLAS instrument will measure ice with a laser that shines at 532 nanometers – a bright green on the visible spectrum. When these laser photons return to the satellite, they pass through a series of filters that block any light that’s not exactly at this wavelength. This helps the instrument from being swamped with all the other shades of sunlight naturally reflected from Earth.

Six Laser Beams

While the first ICESat satellite (2003-2009) measured ice with a single laser beam, ICESat-2 splits its laser light into six beams – the better to cover more ground (or ice). The arrangement of the beams into three pairs will also allow scientists to assess the slope of the surface they’re measuring.

Seven Kilometers Per Second

ICESat-2 will zoom above the planet at 7 km per second (4.3 miles per second), completing an orbit around Earth in 90 minutes. The orbits have been set to converge at the 88-degree latitude lines around the poles, to focus the data coverage in the region where scientists expect to see the most change.

800-Picosecond Precision

All of those height measurements come from timing the individual laser photons on their 600-mile roundtrip between the satellite and Earth’s surface – a journey that is timed to within 800 picoseconds. That’s a precision of nearly a billionth of a second. Our engineers had to custom build a stopwatch-like device, because no existing timers fit the strict requirements.

Nine Years of Operation IceBridge

As ICESat-2 measures the poles, it adds to our record of ice heights that started with the first ICESat and continued with Operation IceBridge, an airborne mission that has been flying over the Arctic and Antarctic for nine years. The campaign, which bridges the gap between the two satellite missions, has flown since 2009, taking height measurements and documenting the changing ice.

10,000 Pulses a Second

ICESat-2’s laser will fire 10,000 times in one second. The original ICESat fired 40 times a second. More pulses mean more height data. If ICESat-2 flew over a football field, it would take 130 measurements between end zones; its predecessor, on the other hand, would have taken one measurement in each end zone.

And One Bonus Number: 300 Trillion

Each laser pulse ICESat-2 fires contains about 300 trillion photons! Again, the laser instrument is so precise that it can time how long it takes individual photons to return to the satellite to within one billionth of a second. 

Learn more about ICESat-2: https://www.nasa.gov/icesat-2

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com.

[threemoonsareshining]

hey! for the cute and unique asks -- 5 7 9 11 14 18 22 26 35 45! i hope you've been doing well and if not here's all the love: xoxoxoxo

Hi!!! omg thank you so much for the asks I’ve been wandering around my house for hours trying to find a distraction because life is terrible right now

5. how many times have you read your favourite book? 

My favourite book is actually a trilogy called “Memorias de Idhún” and i’ve read them like 5 times even though they’re like between 500 and 800 pages each part, but yeah I was like that at 15

7. what kind of weather do you like? 

I feel like almost everyone here on tumblr loves cloudy and cold rainy weather but I actually love the warmth of the summer (even though it’s boiling right now) but I find it nice because I go to sleep really late and I love to leave the window open at night and feel the chill breeze... but in the end I guess that I also like cloudy and chilly weather because that’s what I just described above, but also because it reminds me of my holidays in the north when I was little, and I’ll agree with you, beaches in rainy days are just magical, just as misty forests... so yeah I actually love that kind of weather what am I saying

9. what kind of weather represents who you are as a person? 

hmmm I think that the one I described above, the one that lets you wear summer clothes with a thin jacket on, with dim sunlight slipping through the branches of the trees, a really, really soft breeze, almost unnoticeable, but enough to make the grass flow smoothly, and if you decide to stay home, a light rain that makes the ground smell fresh and earthy....... I don’t know how to describe it

11. what is your favourite song right now? 

I’ve been loving Kishi Bashi's latest album Omoiyari, I think it’s phenomenal, especially the song Angeline, so so good, really.

14. have you ever been heartbroken?

Oh, a very relevant question right now since, currently, my heart is completely shattered into a million pieces in a way it had never been broken before. The short story is that the guy that gave me my New First Kiss (mentioned him in the other ask), just decided that keeping a long distance relationship is just “too complicated for him”. 

All this after me freaking out months ago precisely because because of this thinking: “how on earth are you supposed to start a relationship just months before you leave to study abroad for a year!!!” but he was like “hey c’ mon but I really like you :(“ and i was like “yeah and I’m sure I’m going to like you as well, and that is AGAIN, PRECISELY, why I don’t want to start this, because I’m going to fall for you and then we will have to break up and I will suffer” but then I thought: “hey you can’t get into a relationship with the initial mindset that it’s going to be temporary because that’s not fair for the other person, and he looks super into you as well!” Guess what happened? After months of a beautiful relationship a month before the end of the semester he said “Yeah a long distance is too complicated for me if we haven’t found anyone by the time we get back I’d like to keep dating you but in the meantime I just don’t see the point” so basically yeah, I ended up liking him more than he liked me (idk if this makes any sense) and now I. Am. Suffering. Just as I predicted because I know myself really well. So yeah these past 2 months have been complete hell to me: I almost failed all my college courses (thank god I ended up only failing two hehe) because I just could not stop crying and worrying while he was able to put all that aside and pass all his courses (which I’m glad about don’t get me wrong but I just want to point out that he didn’t seem to suffer at all) and I just feel worse and worse every day because I feel like a piece and dispensable piece of shit

And before you say anything: I Know that long distance relationships are hard and that a whole year is a lot, but I also think that all that can be negotiated and that people can arrive at a middle ground, but I just bumped into a big and hurtful “no”, and he just expected me to be okay with it.... yeah sure

18. are you spiritual?

I was really spiritual when I was very young but I think that was only due to my Catholic upbringing because now I pretty much disagree with many of the ideas spread by the church (or maybe with the church as an institution). However, these days I am starting to believe that I need to find some “path” in life, in the sense that I need something to hang onto during hard times like these ones, some principles that I live by and that I feel like they need to be “clearer” in my head so I don’t lose my complete sense of self every time something bad happens to me and that is out of my control. I don’t know if that needs to be spiritual by any means, but maybe it will be, I’m not sure, but I want to dig into it. 

22. are you an artist?

This may sound very cheesy but I think everyone is an artist in their own way. If you put thought into what you do and make it yours, who says it can’t be art? I myself have always been quite an artistic person, but I have the bad habit of discrediting myself by saying that nothing I do can be considered art, or at least “good art” because I don’t actually have the skills or academic preparation to do it: I draw, but I have no clue about proportions, I’m terrible at freehand drawing, that is, I have zero technique; I dance but I am not a professional so god forbid me from trying to get better even though I know I will never be able to get as good as a professional dancer; the same with music. But despite all this, I draw, I dance and I play and write music and it sometimes makes me feel good, other times bad, sometimes I show it to the world, sometimes I don’t, but just by creating all this I think that yes, I’m an artist.

26. what emotion do you feel most often?

These days? I just have a constant sinking feeling, like the one you feel in your stomach when someone gives you really bad news. All the time. But I only feel this when things are really bad, but that was a constant in my life for many years, so after some time I kinda get used to it and it transforms into helplessness, a permanent feeling of letdown and emotional exhaustion

35. what is your favourite thing about yourself?

With everything I’ve been through these past months (good and bad), I’ve come to realise that when I care about someone, I devote myself completely to them (not in the sense that i “disappear” as a person, but in the sense that I am willing to go to great lengths to be better for that person, to do better, I just try really hard). And despite this, I’ll still think it isn’t enough, so in the end, even though I think this is a good thing, it also drains my soul and emotions a little bit, because sometimes I give all I have and I don’t get the same amount back, not even close, which is frustrating and disappointing because when that happens, all I can think about is “what did I do wrong, what else do I have to give in order to make them happy”. But I just think that people deserve to be treated well with my whole attention.

45. do you believe in aliens?

I know everyone says this but it’s pretty much impossible that we live in such a vast universe and that there isn’t another form of life other than the one on Earth, nah, not possible. But I just find this topic very overwhelming and complicated (science is not my forte)

So yeah this has been my monthly venting (god not even close) but this will do for now. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks again I hope you have a really really nice day

🍂🍁🍃🍂🍁🌻🌼🌾🌻🌼🌾

[hufflepuffmarlenemckinnon]

Letters from Spring Term 1981

An Excerpt from my Novel-Length Fanfic The Dog and the Duckling

Summary: Sirius is assigned to mentor Marlene Mckinnon when she joins The Order of the Phoenix. His perceptions of Hufflepuff house are drastically changed, and so is his life.

Rated Teen mostly for language and innuendo.

A/N: So most everyone who follows me will have gathered that I headcanon Marlene as Duck animagus for a lot of the fic I write. I decided to put some of the backstory of that up on Tumblr in case anyone was curious. I’ll keep these blurbs listed in chronological order on my Fic Masterlist.   Letters from Spring 1981 Dearest Sirius,

I’ve only been back at school for two weeks but I feel the sting of your absence more acutely than before. I guess that’s what I get for twisting your wand to kiss me. It’s a bit like if you’d never tasted treacle tart because you lived in some sort of desolate wasteland entirely devoid of treacle tart. Except you went on holiday to the land of treacle tart and now that you’re back home you feel a terrible void in the pit of your stomach where the treacle tart should be. I hope you enjoy that metaphor because now I find myself not only unkissed but hungry as well.

This reminds me, I have not yet told you of my most recent scrape with your very favorite person, Argus Filch. You have noted before that the key to a Hufflepuff having a good time is the kitchens. I was proving you right by enlisting the elves to bake gillyweed brownies, both for the personal enjoyment of myself and my dorm mates, and for attempting to share with unsuspecting professors. Sounds like a good use of a Saturday, right? It would have been if not for one serious flaw in my plans. The Hogwarts Elves are happy to prepare whatever I ask for and with whatever ingredients I provide, but they are the absolute worst at keeping it under wraps. So of course when Filch was lurking about, looking for fun to ruin, he smelled something suspicious in the kitchens and when he inquired of course those big eared baked good providing twits up and told him it was for me.

Luckily I get to serve my detention with Professor Sprout. She wasn’t even mad that I nicked her gillyweed. And I don’t mind helping her tend to her plants. The only real downside is the 6th year Ravenclaw who serves detention with me. Gilderoy Lockhart.  He’s in detention for carving out his own name in 20 foot letters on the Quidditch pitch and then sending up an image of his own face into the sky. That tells you just about all there is to know about Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart. Nonetheless, it’s a distraction from how much I miss you.

Do you think it would warrant sneaking into Hogwarts as Padfoot just to satisfy my overwhelming desire to kiss you again (and again and again…)? If you don’t I may get into even more trouble and I’ll break your record for most detentions in a single term. I know you hate to be shown up.

I love you more than is rational or good for my health.

-Your Devoted Duck, otherwise known as

Marlene Elfrida McKinnon

Dearest Duckling-

Your last letter shows a reckless disregard for the rules. I can’t even pretend I’m not impressed. And a little turned on.

I’m terribly sorry that you found yourself thwarted by the most Esteemed and Noble Caretaker, His Royal Filchness. Perhaps he would have benefited from your gillyweed brownies most of all, if you’d been generous enough to share with the likes of him. I wonder if argus Filch has ever had a fun time in his life.

Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart of Ravenclaw House sounds like a lively character. At least you haven’t been stuck with someone boring? Though I can imagine hearing him drone on about his own reflection would get tedious after the hilarity of it wore off. Is this the same poncey kid who sent himself 800 valentine’s back in my 7th Year? The name sounds familiar and I can imagine that kid progressing to gimmicks involving his own face in the sky.

Though I am loathe to be the cause of your expulsion, I find it impossible to say no to my little duck, I think I can probably manage to meet you by the willow like before, This coming Thursday after curfew. This time with less brewing difficult potions and more kissing. Use the map.

I love you more than Filch loves his cat,

-Your Sirius

Dearest Sirius,

Your last letter sounded really bleak. I’m sorry that I’m not there to bear the brunt of this war with you. I wish I’d left school early. I know it sounds nonsensical, because I’ve always gotten high marks, but I feel like it’s all so pointless when the world looks like it does. What does it matter if I get a transfiguration NEWT when we’re on the brink of a full on death eater takeover? I’ve come this far though and it’s only a few more months.

Which reminds me, I’ll have Easter week off as per usual and I wondered if I could come stay with you? I’d much prefer it that way. Staying at school is an option of course, and I could stay with my mum and dad. I just thought after last holiday it would be nice to have some time together where we aren’t interrupted by my various family members every 5 minutes. We weren’t really alone together at any point during that visit. Was that intentional? You’ll let me know what you think about my staying with you. I’m only about a meter and a half tall, thus I don’t take up much space. The only thing is that my hair has been known to attack.

Carolyn is still waxing lyrical about Mr. F. Prewett, despite your generously arranging for the pair to be at the same place at the same time. Now she refuses to shut up about how shiny his hair is up close. It is rather shiny. Much shinier than her fervent admirer, Barty Crouch Jr. His hair is not shiny in the least. He’s actually sort of creepy. I know his dad is the head of MLE and all, but he seems to be coming unhinged. He should probably join a drama troupe or something and get the attention that he clearly craves. Whatever he does, I hope it involves staying away from my friend. I put my best effort into dissuading his continued pestering just recently. This effort earned me a week of detentions.

Sometimes I think Professor McGonagall gives me detention just because she enjoys my company. I wish she would just ask me to tea or something. I’m feeling very persecuted. I’ve never once been caught in a broom cupboard tryst or the like (because you didn’t know that I existed when you were in school. Tragic). I’ve hardly ever blown anything up. Yet I’ve gotten 4 separate weeks of detentions with Professor McGonagall for various offenses this year. Then another 2 with Sprout. All I did this time was make Crouch grow bright pink hair out of his ears and nose if he got within 3 meters of Carolyn. Which inevitably he did. It was actually a fun bit of magic and I think McGonagall was secretly a little impressed. She asked after you yesterday. She said that you probably could benefit from a Hufflepuff in your life. I decided to take that as a compliment. She clearly has a soft spot for you. It’s sweet and all but could you please tell your other girlfriend to stop giving me these unjust detentions?

I miss you. If you were here I’d drag you to a broom cupboard and earn a 7th week of detentions.

I love you more than Gilderoy Lockhart loves Gilderoy Lockhart,

-Your Marlene

Dearest Duckling-

As far as your Easter holiday is concerned, you know that I’d never say no. I’ve already started a countdown that caused james to make a face. He’s probably just jealous because his life is consumed with changing nappies and being a responsible adult and I get to be young and in love.

I’ve spoken to Minerva about her subjecting you to All these detentions. You appear to be correct that she’s enjoying your time together. She says we are well matched and she approves but that if we should ever have a child that she’s retiring from the teaching profession.

Would our hypothetical offspring be a puppy or a duckling? Perhaps something in between? Would that be a niffler? That sounds about right. Nifflers can really cause a ruckus and perhaps Minerva would be right to avoid being subjected to that. Of course this is all assuming that you’d even want to have my nifflers. (That’s a sentence I never envisioned myself writing.)

On a graver note, I heard just yesterday about the disappearance of Gawain’s Fiancée and I felt sick. Edgar is clearly doing all he can, but it angers me that magical Law Enforcement refuses to devote any resources to investigating the disappearance of a squib. I told Gawain that I was willing to help in any way that I could. You might remind him that I genuinely mean that. I’m not above going on a mission that was not expressly assigned by Dumbledore. Your family is the biggest lot of Badgers I’ve ever encountered and i love them. Even Gawain.

I need to get back to work, James is giving me a look.

I love you and miss you to an undignified degree,

Sirius

[saphliar]

How I Beat My Eating Disorder

I first began exhibiting a preoccupation with food when my best friend started dating my crush.

It began with a boy, as it usually always does. I met him through band and commiserated with him over flute, and we incessantly messaged each other after school. We shared the appropriate number of inside jokes. We took up jazz band, and I convinced him to join the trombone section with me. It was idyllic; beautiful. Years of loneliness had led to this moment. With this one, I didn’t want to just touch and flee. I felt in touch with my emotions. I felt like I could spend the rest of my life with him.

We weren’t dating, but I felt that the signs were there. He talked to me! He seemed to care about me! There was really nothing more to it, right?

Then he met my best friend and fell so hard and fast for her that I never saw it coming.

Suddenly, they were dating. I felt horrible. I hated myself for hating her. I hated myself for not being enough—for trying too hard but still falling short.

I had to make a change. One day as I stood in front of the fridge and listened to my mother bang around the kitchen, I told her I wanted to be vegetarian.

I didn’t want to be vegetarian because of an unbreakable love for animals. I didn’t even want to be vegetarian because I wanted to lose weight. I wanted to be vegetarian because I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. Vegetarianism was the ultimate challenge after a lifetime of unrestricted, helpless eating. If I failed, I would know that there was truly no redemption for me.

I was never allowed to turn vegetarian, but I found my ways: smuggling meat to my brother at dinner, skipping lunch when there were no vegetarian options. Tensions rose in my family as my doctor parents fought over the health ramifications of going vegetarian at 14, but I didn’t care—I had gotten what I wanted.

I didn’t know how to eat as a vegetarian. I wasn’t getting enough protein. I wasn’t getting enough anything. I shovelled vegetables into my mouth like they were water after a marathon, but as each of you have most likely turned to your benefit at some point, vegetables contain virtually no energy. I felt weak and vaguely hungry all the time, but I turned that into feeling clean. Always, emptiness has made me feel clean.

One dinner, my mother caught me sneaking meat to my brother. She forced me to eat a chicken leg. It took me two hours. I shredded every last piece of meat off the bone before chewing, the back of my hand wet with tears and snot. The chicken tasted like ash. It wasn’t that I loved animals so much that I didn’t want to eat them: it was that I had made a commitment, and my mother had humiliated me. This wasn’t about vegetarianism anymore. This was about total, unquestioning obedience; obedience I was not willing to give.

It came to the point where I had two choices: keep my family together or give up being vegetarian. The decision was easy. I gave up being vegetarian.

But I wasn’t willing to let go of that supreme control over my eating; that glorious, joyful feeling of being able to supervise anything and everything that entered my body. I didn’t know it yet, but I had tasted the high of restricting. As a child, every time my friends or my brother or my father called me fat, I nurtured myself with the thought that as a confident, functioning adult, I would one day slim down and metamorphose into a beautiful supermodel. Now, after a lifetime of being helpless to the whims of my own hunger, I had proved that I could follow a diet. It was time to get skinny.

I bought a weighing scale. For motivation, I followed pro-ana blogs on Tumblr. I told myself that while they supported anorexia and bulimia, mental disorders that actually killed people, I would never take mine that far. I just wanted to lose some weight. I downloaded the MyFitnessPal app to track every calorie, and I became an expert on cups and milligrams and conversions. But mostly I became an expert at worrying. Always, I was worrying.

My daily calorie intake dropped slowly lower and lower: first from a normal count of 2000 to 1200, the recommended MyFitnessPal maximum calorie intake. I congratulated myself, but once a couple kilograms disappeared and no others followed suit, I grew bored. I restricted further. 800. Breakfast was one slice of toast, lunch and dinner carefully controlled. 500. I cut my carbohydrate intake down to a trickle. 200. Breakfast was a single biscuit, and I skipped lunch entirely.

If I went more than ten calories over my self-set limit, I panicked. I taught myself the intricacies of bulimia: with just two fingers down my throat, I could purge out anything. The toilet consumed more food than I did. The bathroom walls rang with the sounds of my retching.

I had never been so weak. I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t laugh. It took all my energy just to stay awake, and yet—even after losing 8 kilograms in 2 months, I still couldn’t reach my goal weight. I still, inexplicably, looked the same.

I didn’t understand at the time that my eating disorder was about control. Everything was falling apart: my family, my friendships, my relationship with my crush. All I could control was food. All I could punish was myself.

But I knew I had to distract myself from my best friend and crush’s relationship. There was another boy: Korean, goofy, kind of, if you squinted, cute. At the end of November, I took a leap and asked him to a dance.

He went red and sank down into his seat, hiding beneath his cap and his saxophone, before mumbling yes. I sat down with mingled shame and triumph roaring through my veins like acid. It had taken the entire weekend to build up the courage to ask.

At that point, my best friend and crush’s relationship began falling apart. I came face-to-face with how terrible a person I was when my self-esteem improved as their relationship plummeted. I was there for my best friend. I was alienating my crush the way I had always needed to but had never been able to, because no one was supposed to know that I wanted my best friend’s boyfriend. Everything was falling into place again. Everything felt normal.

I loosened the vice grip I had on myself. With effort, I forced myself to care less about eating and more about normal things, like painting my nails, comforting my friend, talking to the boy I asked to the dance. It was the biggest relief I had ever felt. I had violated the calorie limit, and nothing had fallen apart. I was still going to the dance with the cutest boy in my grade. My family was still held together by twine, but then again, it had been broken while I was starving too. Best of all, my friend had come back to me. I had nothing more to hide from her.

By the time I went to the dance, I was eating like a normal human being again, albeit with a drastically diminished appetite. I had enough energy for excitement. I only cared a little that you could see my armpit fat when I wore my dress. It was great and fun and unimaginably awkward, but then again, what isn’t awkward when you’re 14?

The end of the year approached. I made a resolution: I would care for myself in the coming year. I would not punish myself. I would feed myself when I was hungry and laugh when I felt like crying.

Long story short, the boy I asked to the dance began dating someone else. I felt cold and ashamed and ten different kinds of self-hateful. I wanted to run. I wanted to starve. I wanted to beat myself black and blue. But then I remembered my new year’s resolution, and I realized that, at long last, I had permission: permission to make mistakes.

I surfaced from beneath the hatred. I fought aside the looming depression. I beat back the eating disorder pounding on my doors. I would love myself even if no one else did—it was my responsibility to. I had one body and one life, and neither were made for starving.

It isn’t the same for all of you. Hell, it probably isn’t the same for most of you. I hadn’t yet fallen too deep down the spiral of deteriorating mental health, and I’ve always had shit resolution anyway. But the point is that I moved on. The point is that I haven’t stepped on the scale in weeks. The point is that I don’t feel my hipbones when I lean against tables, I don’t feel full with a cup of rice, I don’t fit into the clothes I fit into when I weighed 57kg. And that is okay.

Some of the best control comes with letting go. It takes bravery to push yourself into darkness and away from safety, but it takes more bravery to come back.

I turn 15 in 12 days. This is the story of how I beat my eating disorder.

[whokilledlaurapodcast]

The Who Killed Laura Podcast

If you are a fan of Twin Peaks, experience it with Christopher and Scott from the Who Killed Laura Podcast as they explore the classic TV show from David Lynch and Mark Frost through the season 3 revival on Showtime.

Subscribe, like, and leave a review on iTunes: goo.gl/O18jf9

Download episodes directly from Libsyn: whokilledlaurapodcast.libsyn.com

Contact us!

Leave a voicemail at 707-800-WKLP

Send us an Email: WhoKilledLauraPodcast@gmail.com

Twitter: @WhoKilledLaura1

Instagram: @WhoKilledLauraPodcast

Facebook: WhoKilledLauraPodcast

Tumblr: whokilledlaurapodcast.tumblr.com

Google+ WhoKilledLauraPodcast@gmail.com

The original Episodes

Season 1

1 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - Pilot (1:S1P Northwest Passage; Airdate: 4-8-90) - https://itun.es/i6Sv25S

2 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - There's a Fish in the Percolator (2:S1E1 Traces to nowhere; Airdate: 4-12-90) - https://itun.es/i6Sv25d

3 The Who Killed Laura Podcast  - Looking for Your Teeth on Queer Street (3:S1E2 Zen, or the Skill to Catch a Killer; Airdate: 4-19-90) - https://itun.es/i6Sv7N8

3B The Who Killed Laura Podcast - Bonus Episode - (1B Twin Peaks Pilot International Version) - https://goo.gl/mzsJDH

4 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - Do You Know Where Dreams Come From (4:S1E3) Rest in Pain; Airdate: 4-26-90) - https://itun.es/i6Sv25h

5 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - Women Are Drawn from a Different Set of Blueprints (5:S1E4 The One-Armed Man; Airdate: 5-3-90) - https://itun.es/i6Sv7Nx

6 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - I’ve Got the Pictures to Prove It (6:S1E5 Cooper’s Dream; Airdate: 5-10-90) - https://itun.es/i6Sy7C7

7 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - These Grapes are Right on the Edge (7:S1E6 Realization Time; Airdate: 5-17-90) - https://itun.es/i6SZ9YG

8 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - Bite the Bullet Baby (8:S1E7 The Last Evening; Airdate: 5-23-90) - https://itun.es/i6Yj7kb

Season 2

9 The  Who Killed Laura Podcast - A real 3 Hanky Crime (9:S2E1 May the Giant Be Wtih You; Airdate: 9-30-90) - https://itun.es/i6Yx9cv

10 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - I Thought It Meant I Didn’t Have To Take A Bath (10:S2E2 Coma; Airdate: 10-6-90) - https://itun.es/i6Y66zh

11 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - Any Relation to the Dwarf (11:S2E3 The Man Behind the Glass; Airdate: 10-13-90) - https://itun.es/i6YV4NB

12 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - Filly Trouble (12:S2E4 Laura’s Secret Diary; Airdate: 10-20-90) - https://itun.es/i6YV4N6

13 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - Good thing you guys can’t keep a secret (13:S2E5 The Orchid’s Curse; Airdate: 10-27-90) - https://itun.es/i6Ys6G9

14 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - The Gifted and the Damned (14:S2E6 Demons; Airdate: 11-3-90) - https://itun.es/i6YG4PX

15 Who Killed Laura Podcast - It’s Happening Again (15:S2E7 Lonely Souls; Airdate: 11-10-90) - https://itun.es/i6Yn97C

16 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - How you must hate us white people (16:S2E8 Drive with a Dead Girl; Airdate: 11-17-90) - https://itun.es/i6Yv39r

17 Who Killed Laura Podcast - He’s as Real as I am (17:S2E9 Arbitrary Law; Airdate: 12-1-90) - https://itun.es/i6h35TG

18 Who Killed Laura Podcast - I like to lick (18:S2E10 Dispute Between Brothers; Airdate: 12-8-90) - https://itun.es/i6h86L7

19 Who Killed Laura Podcast - It's a good color for him (19:S2E11 Masked Ball; Airdate: 12-15-90) - https://itun.es/i6794p4

20 Who Killed Laura Podcast - Persistent Random Misfortune (20:S2E12 The Black Widow; Airdate: 1-12-91) - https://itun.es/i67X9XQ

21 Who Killed Laura Podcast - Kiss me General Lee (21:S2E13 Checkmate; Airdate: 1-19-91) - https://itun.es/i67X4Kt

22 Who Killed Laura Podcast - Asian Man Killed (22:S2E14 Double Play; Airdate: 2-2-91) - https://itun.es/i6793hM

23 Who Killed Laura Podcast - Our Sheriff’s Got a Problem with his Girlfriend (23:S2E15 Slaves and Masters; Airdate: 2-9-91) - https://itun.es/i6793hG

24 Who Killed Laura Podcast - What Happened to Josie? (24:S2E16 The Condemned Woman; Airdate: 2-16-91) - https://itun.es/i6794pc

25 Who Killed Laura Podcast - A Plethora of Plaid (25:S2E17 Wounds and Scars; Airdate: 3-28 -91) - https://itun.es/i6794pN

26 Who Killed Laura Podcast - Sweetheart, My Socks Are on Fire (26:S2E18; On the Wings of Love; Airdate: 4-4-91) - https://itun.es/i67X9X4

27 Who Killed Laura Podcast - Sexual Maturity and Super Powers (27:S2E19; Variations on Relations; Airdate: 4-11-91) - https://itun.es/i67f9Zm

28 Who Killed Laura Podcast - A fish I am not particularly fond of (28:S2E20; The Path to the Black Lodge; Airdate: 4-18-91) - https://itun.es/i67j7pS

29 Who Killed Laura Podcast - I hope it doesn’t hurt this bad in a week (29:S2E21; Miss Twin Peaks; Airdate 6-10-91) - https://itun.es/i67j7pY

30 Who Killed Laura Podcast - I’ll see you again in 25 years (30:S2E22; Beyond Life and Death; Airdate: 6-10 -91) - https://itun.es/i67L6sP

Fire Walk With Me

31 Who Killed Laura Podcast - Goddamn these people are confusing - (31: Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me) - https://itun.es/i67L6sh

32 Who Killed Laura Podcast - It struck me as funny! - (32: The Missing Pieces) - https://itun.es/i67Q7Js

The Return

35 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - It has to do with your heritage (The Return Part 1) - https://itun.es/i67C2j6

36 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - I’m dead yet I live (The Return Part 2) - https://itun.es/i67Z7FP

37 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - The Absurd Mystery of the Strange Forces of Existence (The Return Part 3) - https://itun.es/i67y4nX

38 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - I hate to admit this, but I don’t understand this situation all (The Return Part 4) - https://itun.es/i67y4v5

39 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - Off in dreamland again (The Return Part 5) - https://itun.es/i6df7DC

40 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - We’re living in a dark, dark age (The Return Part 6) - https://itun.es/i6dX7MT

41 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - That, my dear, is a long story (The Return Part 7)  - https://itun.es/i6dH7LG

42 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - Got a light? (The Return Part 8) - https://itun.es/i6dT7Cs

43 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - Let’s Think Out Loud (The Return Part 9) - https://itun.es/i6d67Gb

44 The Who Killed Laura Podcast Episode - What will be in the darkness that remains? (The Return Part 10) - https://itun.es/i6dL44w

46 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - What? Where? What? F***! (The Return Part 11) - https://itun.es/i6dL8rt

47 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - The Blue Rose Task Force (Part 12) - https://itun.es/i6d79QZ

48 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - Existentialism 101 (Part 13) - https://itun.es/i6dd4Xb

49 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - Then disappears before their eyes (Part 14) - https://goo.gl/5kZATw

50 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - It’s just a change not an end (Part 15) - https://goo.gl/oTHrRi

51 The Who Killed Laura Podcast - All things considered, he looks pretty good! (Part 16) - https://goo.gl/XVueNZ

Miscellaneous Episodes

33 Who Killed Laura Podcast - Voicemail - https://itun.es/i67Q7Jp

44 Who Killed Laura Podcast (Bonus Episode)  - Twin Peaks SDCC - https://itun.es/i6dY6nY

34 Who Killed Laura Podcast - Eraserhead - https://itun.es/i67Q2TY

[eyeingyouup]

So after my last post and talking out loud to BüniD this blogger on tumblr immediately reblogged and liked some pics of mine suggesting that that’s what is happening with my sister mum and family . The notifications come just as I’d not even finished saying talking to BüniD on my laptop telling him I’m gonna have Mario mother who is BüniD on my screen .

Yusef my strange tenant has disappeared all of a sudden his made no contact whatsoever he normally and usually constantly sends me messages calling me daddy and wants to come and give me a blow job wearing his girls nightie that he has . He loves black cock and his a real old sissy that’s his lane / catogory in this insane sick gay world . So this bloggers profile name suggests that sissy Yusef is this person .

I know for a fact 100% sure his come into my life through ck who is Mario /BüniD . He was a tenant on paper , but he came with a mission , on a job for ck . To tell me about what’s going on , sleep with me , use me , and just keep everything at bay as I was starting to really investigate and the process of me finding this hide out in the house so he was sent as a discreet distraction. His last or our last text conversation was a blatent subliminal and an indirect conversation as to what he’s doing or has done .

His left my house back in November 2020 saying that his getting married to ex wife the mother of his son again for the sake of his son and his upbringing but as soon as he’d left he came back the following evening confessing after a series of sex talk or trying to have sex talks with me that his “ bisexual “ infact is just a big old fake sissy Muslim who only wears black and loves black cock .

He had tried on several occasions telling me that black colour is dominant and has a dominant effect on us people , hinted and indirectly told me that this whole operation of sex drugs rape and rock and roll that’s happening it’s the blacks that are driving it .

I got the same hint at Lloyd’s bank when £800 was taken out of my account the bank staff (white ) cashier indirectly showed me the same way mum sister had showed me and also one of the judges at my CTO meeting 2/3yrs ago by displaying gold it’s the symbol colour that the blacks are using . Also when I was being released from police station back 2 years ago for having a fight with my neighbour who’s black African , I was questioned but then the police had let me go . They came back an hour later spending time in the African man house and decided to arrest me . They’d kept me in cell for a whole weekend without any food or water and kept blowing hot and cold air in the cell. When they were releasing me , the police officer at the desk flashed his gold watch in my face as I was having a rant and Instead of signing my name I subliminally had said written something else on the signature line saying blck people are shit . The police officer smiled and I was off .

That weekend two black male officers raped a drunken young girl in the cells also . And it was black prison officers who’d only attended whenever I’d press the buzzer with an attitude. I’d asked for water and tea coffee too but they’d never came back with anything. I felt ill the whole weekend and was literally asleep in the cell. At the time when I was being arrested by police in my home the African man next door shouted in an very angry and aggressive manner saying “ your going to die “ the police didn’t do nothing to him .

I was being interviewed at the police station and there was an appropriate adult with me who attended one of the previous arrests I’d had. He was high on coke , he even nudged me with his shoulders and showed me coke wrap under the table . The solicitor that had come he was dripping with sweat , shirt buttons open with all of his chest showing with a broken tablet and pre written statement for me to sign . He just wanted me to sign it without me reading it . I didn’t trust any of them my instincts told me to read it first . I read the whole statement and it said at the end that I’m committing suicide clearly . I didn’t say nothing nor did I sign anything. They dragged me out and put me back in the cells .

18.1.2021

20:19pm

[swampgallows]

i need help. i cant do anything. even in europe all i did was trail behind. i didnt book anything or research anything. i just followed along. everybody else planned everything and i just followed behind.

i dont know what will happen to me without coverage. i need to make calls but i dont know what will happen. i really need help and i really want to be able to do things without my parents. there is so much my parents dont know and that i dont feel safe telling them. there is so much i dont trust my parents with but they control everything. they dont even know i quit my job because i was going to kill myself. ir eally want to get help. and i really need to get help. and i feel like the only way i can truly do it is if im entirely removed from this environment for an extended period of time. i thought europe would be the thing to help me enough but during the last few days when i realized i was going to have to come back here i started panicking and getting sick. and since i got home my body has been rejecting even the most mild of foods (oatmeal, applesauce, eggs and toast) and i cant sleep for more than a few hours at a time, at random. and i cant focus on anything again, and i only managed to draw something for a little bit when my mom was at the hospital again. 

i hate that i cant do anything alone but i feel like when im by myself i’ll disappear. but even when im with people i fall out of existence and stop being a person. i cant be here. im struggling to be here any more as a person. 

i had canceled my wow subscription (i guess?) so it wouldnt charge me while i wasnt playing and i havent started it back up again yet. i opened hots but i didnt play it. i cant even play video games. 

i really need help. i really need to get somewhere where i can be away from this environment and get help or im just going to sit in my bed until i die. im dissociated more than im grounded  nowadays, even on the trip. if eel like unless im in a super safe and time-constrained situation (like a rave or at a restaurant?? or something) i cant be a human being. like i have to have a scripted event and i cant exist outside of it. i dont know what to do with myself unless im being perceived or something like that. 

i hate writing about this stuff on tumblr but it’s making me lose my mind if i dont get it out somehow. it’s just spinning in my head and all i can do is sit here. it’s 4 in the morning and i thought about cleaning my room to do something productive while not having to be a person, per se, but it’s 4am and it would be too loud. i thought about getting in my car and driving around a little while the streets are super empty but my mom is awake and sitting by the door.

im so fucking sick of my parents knowing about every single thing i do. i cant be a person independent of them if i cant do or say anything without them knowing. and even if i put up my middle finger and say like FUCK YOU IM DOING THIS like my sister does it doesnt matter, in the end they still control everything and they still KNOW. i still have to come back to their house to go to bed, and even if im gone for days they know im gone. my sister is looking into renting a place with her shitty chaotic boyfriend (even though she swore up and down that she would NEVER move in with him) just so she doesnt have to fucking live here. AND SHE’S 29 AND I’M 27 WE SHOULDNT HAVE TO STILL LIVE WITH OUR PARENTS BUT NO ONE IN MY GENERATION CAN AFFORD TO MOVE OUT WITHOUT LIVING WITH 9 STRANGERS FOR 800 A MONTH EACH, AND THOSE NUMBERS ARE NOT EXAGGERATED

it was such a relief when i was in europe to just not check in with them at all or have to tell them anything. not even ‘hey i’m here safe!’ fuck you. i barely even posted on facebook about it except for checking in to places on swarm, and not to tell them, but just to do it, because it’s what i’d do anyway. “thanks for the update” my sister wrote, like i was supposed to tell them sooner. it’s none of their fucking business. they are not part of the equation at all. i bought the plane ticket, i paid for my share of the hotel and hostel and apartment, AND i was planning to drive myself to nate’s house until my mother fucking berated me about it and dropped me off instead (they were using my car that week anyway). 

my sister is on a career path and so is my brother and im not. i havent tried learning coding again in a while. i really do not have anything to live for, im not in love with anybody and i have no dreams and i dont even want to get married really and i DEFINITELY do not want children, i still feel like a child, i feel too helpless and stupid to do anything, my art is WAY below the professional level and i couldnt even fulfill all the commissions i took, i barely even draw for myself. i dont do anythign for myself. i cant even take care of myself. im full of self-destructive impulses maybe because i feel like if it gets bad enough my parents will give a shit about me, or something, but they dont, or they cant, theyre incapable. i think about all the healing i have to do and all the trauma ive been through and how my mother takes even that away from me, using it to further her own self-flagellation about what a bad mother she is. even if i killed myself, my suicide would matter to her more as a means to further punish herself than as a loss of my life. and i know this because when i was hit by the car and didnt have the self-preservation to call for help or do anything, all she did was scream at me at the top of her lungs and then complain about what a bad mother she was that she apparently never taught us to call our parents.

i had to throw up when we were driving back to lax to drop cookies off and i thought i could make it. i puked all over myself, bad, in nate’s car, and he said, “you need to just tell me if you have to and i’ll pull over.” and i legitimately didnt even think of that. i am so accustomed to just suffering in silence and then getting punished afterward that i didnt do a solid for myself or for my friends by just giving a heads up about what was happening to me. i just let it happen and dealt with the consequences. and that thought really unnerved me. why didnt i say something? did i really think he would get mad at me for asking, for having the audacity to get sick? was i embarrassed??? well i was sure as fuck embarrassed for puking all over myself like a fucking infant, so why didnt i just say something? like who the fuck does that? i just sat there fighting it, thinking it would go away, instead of saying like “dude, can we pull over? i think im gonna throw up.” maybe i didnt want to be an inconvenience, or ruin the good time, or be needy, or draw attention to myself, or possibly make cookies late for her plane (she had more than enough time and it wouldnt have been a problem at all. pulling over for a minute wouldnt have mattered. we werent even on the freeway.) so why didn’t i even think to say something?

i was never like this. i was never somebody who didnt stand up for myself.

or was i? i dont know. i have avenged people in the past, speaking up for them when they didnt have anyone on their side, so why cant i speak up for myself? i didnt say anything when i was being molested, or raped, but i was just a child. but ive been ground down more and more to be more subservient, quieter, helpless, and the few times i try to defend myself or make a stand or speak up i end up saying a very wrong thing or being extremely rude or just embarrassing myself by saying something foolish. or i come off as aggressive. 

aggression.

i have nothing so i have nothing to ground me and nothing with which to assert myself. as time goes on i feel weaker and weaker, more and more feeble and like i need permission to be alive. i cant be open with my family about nearly any of my beliefs or interests, hence why i am so fervent and adamant them in spaces that i can be (like, here, for instance, blogging until i am blue in the face about warcraft and dumb rave shit). in person i feel foolish among other wow fans, who play the game better than i do and know more about the lore than i do, and i am made to feel like an imposter (FUCK YOU spellcheck i prefer the -er) or an idiot or a “fake fan” or like “wow you dedicate so much of your life to this and you still dont know a fucking thing, what a loser, what a moron”. and i feel that way about rave shit too. hanging around other DJs and shit who know so much more about their specific areas, things im not necessarily against knowing but havent really done the research on my own, i feel like i’m nothing, too.

i dont have any worthwhile qualities and especially nothing that i’m capable of doing to a lucrative or productive degree. i have a worthless art degree, speaking of which, after 5 interminable soul-crushing years at a university that ground me in its teeth and made me feel like i belonged as a smear on the pavement. and then i almost was that after being hit by a car during what was supposed to be my final semester. 

im just really not supposed to be here and i have nothing to offer. and i know nobody is “supposed” to be here but i dont even have the means to act like it or to make myself useful. i cant even be useful to myself. i cant even do the things i have an inkling of wanting to do. i just start hitting myself or crying even when i try to do the things that will make me happy. the amount of times ive been at my tables mixing away and then beating the shit out of myself at the slightest mistake and having to sit in the bath for an hour to calm down are innumerable. drawing isn’t as violent, unless im interrupted, in which case it becomes a heavy weight, like an anvil on my forehead, screaming about all the time i was wasting, and how i spent x hours on this and it still looks like shit or it’s completely pointless or “oh orcs again how fucking original you fucking cuntrag of course your favorite is the inexcusably evil and violent genocidal piece of shit character you constantly try to “fix” in your head and make excuses for because youre a broken worthless idiot addicted to abuse since being used is the only function you have in this world”

im kind of glad r/incel was banned because i was developing kind of a hate-read addiction to seeing screenshots on here. i never went to the reddit itself but being raised on that kind of mentality brought back a lot of feelings, and i was trying to train myself to just laugh at those posts, but so many people like that have ruined me in the past that i ended up feeling like i had a duty to “hear” them out. i was practically raised by men who would now be classified as “incels” and that rhetoric comprised a bulk of my understanding about sexuality, especially when my introduction to the entire concept of sex was through entitlement via rape. i thought letting myself be abused was some act of altruism, and that men wanting to possess me was something admirable and validating, especially since i was so ugly, that they in turn were being charitable by allowing themselves to be associated with me, that the least i could do was let them get some kind of pleasure out of it. 

sure i didnt know any better as a child but im still fighting these feelings as an adult. i cant even navigate my own feelings about men. the pirate wants to go to bar sinister again on saturday (with smee, luckily) but i still cant feel out if it’s a date or not, and i still cant decide whether or not i’m comfortable with it being a date, since i dont know what attraction is, i dont want to hurt the guy’s feelings, and i’d like to stay friends, and i dont want to make him mad, and i dont want to lead him on either, and i DONT KNOW WHY i am basically arguing with myself as to whether or not i should ‘let this happen’, that i should just allow something to happen to me, again, because i “pursued” this man enough to let him know i wanted to get to know him better and hang with him outside of just seeing him on the bus, but i do not believe i have ever consciously pursued someone romantically IN MY LIFE (and if i did i was the last to know i was doing it). i have never had the thought “I want to date this person” because i dont fucking know what dating is, i dont know what anything is, i dont fucking know anything, i am not someone who would intentionally make a “First Move” on someone in the way of “wow i want to kiss this person so i had better get to know them better” like they do in the movies.

ultimately i guess i cannot ever imagine someone respecting me and being reciprocal with me. cannot ever imagine someone wanting to be around me for me and not because of some ulterior motive, like that theyre in love with me because of some shit emotional labor they squeezed out of me or some naive infatuation theyve conjured up in their heads about how we’re going to be married someday even if i explicitly reject them outright on several separate occasions, or how they’re so emotionally stunted that me being a cordial human being and sharing a trace of interest with them (wow youre a girl, AND you play video games? AND you have hooves?) translates into a crush because they have zero boundaries or understanding of women. 

cause like, im a fucking disaster area. i dont even want to be around me. i cannot even look at myself in the mirror, my insecurity is volatile, i’m incredibly unstable and i have no self-preservation or means of independence. if you want to be dragged down in every facet possible, look no further: i am a living embodiment of trench foot. so because i deem myself having no value i dont see why anyone else could. which is why im comfortable with traces of platonic shit and why social media is perfect. it’s meaningful enough interaction to let me know that i, individually, have value, but superficial and ephemeral enough to know it’s not because anyone has any weird fucking obsession with or bias toward me. my art appears on their dash in a flash and if they like it, they like it, and that’s it. they dont gotta say shit, and it’s an entirely objective Unit of Value not based on any expected performance from me or my identity as a human being. Just, deemed worthy, and if they add their own addendum or something it’s because they’re contributing to something larger, not directly feeding into my ego/personhood. 

and in turn, on my blog i can provide whatever sort of content i want without expectation and at the end of the day even if it goes unnoticed, im not doing it for any means to an end so ultimately its impact is irrelevant. like, thank fucking god. my blog doesnt provide a service to people where they expect some kind of Product, and they can opt out at any time. as long as im not going around hurting people (and obviously i would never want to do that) my blog doesnt matter, and i dont have to matter. 

“you matter”. fuck off. maybe i dont want to matter. maybe im better off just being a transient, tied to nothing and no one to keep from burdening anybody or burdening myself by feeling like i have to be fucking “useful” all the time. 

for how truly invisible i feel all the time, it’s ironic how much i wish i could be.

[mega-camp-blog]

So who am I giving my money to again?

Lets say you’re interested in camp but you are honestly a little skeptical about handing your money over to a bunch of strangers you met on the internet.  I think it is entirely reasonable to ask, who are you giving your money over to?  The answer is @dani-kin and @nientedal.  

So here is a little about both of us:

Hi, I’m Dani aka Dani Kin aka danikin aka Sarah Stumpf  and I’ve been a member of the Megamind fandom for 6 years, dating back to the old pre-tumblr LJ days.  In my professional life, I’m a librarian who has spent 9 years working on programming, putting on events that range from a few people to over 800 attendees.  I have a lot of experience with camp planning and cooking for large groups.  For the last 11 years I’ve been an on-again/off-again board member, camp cook, and planning committee member for The Earth Conclave, a non-denominational pagan retreat that happens twice a year.  Ok, admittedly this is my first time acting as a Camp Director, but I have spent my career managing public money.  Like I get being worried about where your $285 is going but I’m currently supervising a budget of like $300,000 of taxpayer money every year at work and I’ve never overspent in 9 years.  I also organized the first Megamind Fandom Meetup which happened at Dash Con in 2014 by paying for hotels on my own credit card and hoping people would pay me back (they did).  

Hi, I'm Dal Niente!  I'll be handling the money side of things for camp.  I've worked as an accountant at a CPA firm for four years, doing the books for a few of my clients and doing the taxes (and some attest work) for the rest of them.  I also have two degrees in accounting (yeah, I'm a ton of fun at parties, oh boy).  The heart and soul of my job is to make sure the cash accounts are pig-tight and bull-strong and everything is classified correctly.  Mega Camp is not a business but we're treating the money side as if it were, because that's how we'll make sure all your money gets where it needs to go and stays where it needs to be: Camp.  Not my pocket or Dani's pocket or anybody else's pocket.  All camp funds are going into a bank account that will ONLY be used for camp funds, and all camp expenses will be paid out of that bank account that will ONLY be used for camp expenses.  And any money left over after camp will be returned to the attendees.  We're doing this for fun, not profit.  

And if you're worried about me just disappearing with your money...that's simply not going to happen.  From a completely selfish standpoint, I would feel terribly guilty about that, and I hate feeling guilty more than any other feeling I can think of.  Also, I've been in this fandom for...seven-ish years?  I love you and I'm not anxious to burn bridges with any of you.  I'm not going to steal from you.  Scout's honor, pinkie swear, cross my heart and hope to die.

We’re both pretty open books, so feel free to visit us on our tumblrs. And you can always hit up the ask box here too.  If you need to skype with us so we can assure you we are not nigerian scammers or something, we’re open.   

We’re doing this because we love this fandom and we want you to feel confident that your money is going to trustworthy people.

-Dani and Dal