#for the record: apparently they would have no health issues from this

[lesbianmichelmishina]

minor headcanon, ingo and emmet aren't just identical twins but mirror twins. this is a rare phenomenon where the egg splits in two really late, so the twins end up being physically mirrored. features like beauty marks appear on opposite sides, their dominant hands are different, their gaits are mirrored, etc.

in some cases, one mirror twin can have situs inversus, where their internal organs are flipped. emmet is the "flipped twin" - his heart is on the right, for instance.

#submas #gotta tag em all #for the record: apparently they would have no health issues from this #except for emmet having to clarify his anatomy to doctors when relevant #although can you imagine situs inversus ingo in hisui #pearl clan healers try to tend to him on arrival and realise that his heart is LITERALLY IN THE WRONG PLACE

[jokeroutsubs]

📝ENG Translation: 🆕 Bojan Cvjetićanin's interview for May 2024 issue of OnaPlus magazine.

Article written by Daša Mavrič, published in OnaPlus magazine on 03.05.2024. English translation by TT katysmusic77 proofread by IG GBoleyn123.

🗨 Bojan Cvjetićanin, Joker Out: I wasn't at ease on stage for quite a long time

The calendar causes them a lot of issues, Bojan from Joker Out admits in conversation. In one year, the boys experienced things that most of us don't get to experience in our entire lifetime. How can someone avoid mixing up the sequence of events?! Bojan Cvjetićanin is currently in Germany with Kris Guštin, Nace Jordan, Jan Peteh and Jure Maček, where they are recording their third album.

In a long distance conversation he only confirmed his professionalism, which they agreed upon simultaneously with their performance at Eurovision. "We very quickly and unanimously decided to take on the rock'n'roll lifestyle properly; for us to enjoy it, for our fans to enjoy it and to be able to enjoy it for more than a month," Bojan says.

We're talking during your process of recording the album in Hamburg, just before that, you finished the tour. The band members really spend a lot of time together. How has your relationship evolved during all the years of being in a band?

BC: The current line-up is not the original one, we switched two members. But the fact is that the intense band life began two years ago, when both new members had already joined the band. So our common home, so to speak, has only existed for about a year. A lot has changed in fact. I believe we don't even notice all of it, nor do we think about it, because we are together all the time and we filter through the changes regularly.

If I look back, I see that the relationship between us became extremely, extremely tight and a mutual trust has been formed, which can only be built when you spend as much time with someone as we do with each other. The line between our relationships has been blurred. What I'm trying to say is that the line blurred between being a friend, a band member, a colleague, it all became one thing. We are essentially a sort of organism, which evolves and changes together.

The growth of each individual is very dependent on the other four members. We really have been through a lot together; even the biggest moments of shock, which influence our feelings and thoughts, happened to us collectively, we were never alone. We have become very dependant opon one another.

Your pace of life would firstly be ascribed to a professional athlete, rather than a rockstar. And to me it seems you have set out on your career in this way consciously. There's probably no drinking, late nights out?

BC: When we started the first two Europen tours it very quickly became apparent that what we are doing is a lot more serious than people would imagine. At least for us, this is the most fun job in the world, as we get to create and play music for the people who love us. And we love them as well. Together we share these lovely feelings, which is the coolest part of this job. If we want to do this long term and at a high level, we knew that we had to take it seriously.

When you have 22 concerts in one month, you of course think that everyone who bought a ticket to your concert deserves your best performance. When you're living at an extremely demanding pace for a month, late nights out and similar things are a completely unnecessary stress and distraction for your body. We very quickly and unanimously decided to take on the rock'n'rolll lifestyle in a proper way; for us to enjoy it, for our fans to enjoy it and to be able to enjoy it for more than a month.

In the podcast for N1¹ you openly talked about your panic attack. How have you been taking care of your mental health since that episode? ¹You can watch the N1 podcast with English subtitles on our YouTube channel!

BC: This happened to me last summer when, even though I was sick, we played five or six concerts in ten days. Tiredness and probably everything that had happened to us took its toll. After Eurovision, which ended in May, we didn't turn on the emotional part of our brain, because so many things were happening so quickly, we fell into work mode. The combination of all these emotions and events probably mixed together with tiredness and illness. I wasn't really at ease on stage and continued to not be at ease on stage for quite a long time, practically a whole year. But of course to a much lesser extent and less severely. The whole team made sure that it would happen as little as possible. The boys gladly took on the responsibilities for which my presence wasn't necessary and took that burden off my shoulders. I hardly had to deal with the logistics, the bureaucracy and I left it to those, who are better qualified for it. The boys in the band and our team always make sure that everyone feels at their maximum best.

On tours that are behind you, something really fascinating happened, the fans were singing with you in Slovene. We're speaking during your process of recording the new album in Germany. Does it even matter in which language you create music?

BC: On all the tours so far it turned out that for hour and a half, people are singing our lyrics. When some of our friends from Slovenia came to one of the concerts, they really couldn't fathom what was going on, because the people around them were talking in their own languages, but when we started singing, they sang together with us. On stage, we hardly hear any details in the pronunciation through all the noise, so we don't even have the feeling that the people who are singing don't speak Slovene otherwise. We felt very at home throughout all of Europe, which was quite magical.

Regarding the recording of the third album, the songs will be in the languages in which the idea for them was sparked. When it comes to the language in which the song is created, we really don't limit ourselves.

But I can tell you that the majority of the songs will be in Serbian and in Slovene, I doubt there will be more than two, maybe three songs in English.

Who is your favourite to win this year's Eurovision song contest?

BC: To be completely honest, I haven't looked into into this year's contestants a lot. I want to hear the songs for the first time when we watch Eurovision, which will be here in the studio. I was a host at the Eurovision pre-party in Madrid and there I heard some of the songs, but I consciously moved backstage to not hear them in their entirety. I want to experience it with a neutral outlook and base my opinion on what I hear for the first time, and not after I had been listening to a song for three months and maybe even met the artist in person.

But I absolutely strongly believe in our representative Sara. I know that she sings the song live really well. And that's very, very important. I know she has the stage presence, I saw the reaction from the public after her performance in Spain and that reaction was very positive.

For now, Raiven's performance is the only one that I saw in its entirety. I want to experience the rest when Eurovision happens.

How do you look back on your Eurovision experience after one year? You are in fact the first Slovenian representative that really took advantage of it in a completely different way.

BC: Eurovision completely changed our career and our lives. It's interesting that so many things happened to us since last year that we find it hard to perceive time. The calendar represents a big problem for us (laughter). We have problems evaluating what happened three months ago, what happened seven months ago and what happened two years ago. The events get a bit mixed up. If somebody told me that three years have passed since Eurovision, I would believe them.

We had a hectic lifestyle for half a year, we fell into an extremely unique universe, which you can only really believe if you're a part of Eurovision, or if you're an avid Eurovison fan who lives for Eurovision. And there's a lot of them.

Yeah, you fall into some kind of universe and you live in a bubble, completely isolated from your surroundings. We had a blast, we enjoyed it a lot, we met so many wonderful people. Since last year, we saw half of the representatives during the tours and all of them joined us on stage.

We know and we feel, that we did a good job. We are proud of what we have done, proud of what Eurovision enabled us to do. We worked really hard, all of it was very much filled with competitive spirit, but every single moment was worth it. When the opportunity for Eurovision presented itself to us, we knew we would take it full-on, or not at all.

#joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #bojan cvjeticanin #jokeroutsubs

[jessicamessicavillageofspillage]

Apparently transpeople will also die from the inaccurate recording of Sex within statistics

The collection of data on a person’s sex – that is, whether they are male or female – has become controversial in recent years, and a number of public bodies have moved away from collecting data on sex as a result. For example, Scotland’s chief statistician recently issued guidance stating that data on sex should only be collected in exceptional circumstances. This move has been greeted with alarm by quantitative social scientists who believe that data on sex is vitally important and that data on both gender identity and sex is needed.

The Office for National Statistics (ONS) was also embroiled in controversy when it proposed to guide respondents to the 2021 England and Wales census that they may answer the sex question in terms of their subjective gender identity, rather than their sex. This was despite the fact that the 2021 census also included a new separate question on gender identity. The ONS was forced to change its proposed guidance on the sex question by a judicial review and went on to advise that people should answer the first question to reflect their legal sex. The Scottish census authorities have been criticised for disregarding the implications of that judgment.

Statistics on employment, health, crime and education have all been affected by this trend.

The Government Equalities Office has issued guidance to employers who are legally bound to report on their gender pay gap to provide data on their employees’ gender identity, not their sex, and to exclude employees who “do not identify as ‘men’ or ‘women’” from the data. This makes it impossible to assess whether natal males who identify as trans or non-binary may have different labour-market experiences from natal females who identify as trans or non-binary. Yet non-binary or transgender identification may not protect females from discrimination, for example, on the basis of pregnancy or maternity or the perceived risk of becoming pregnant.

The NHS decides who to call for routine medical screenings based on the gender marker a person has recorded with their GP rather than their sex as recorded as birth. The NHS’s failure to record biological sex on patient records has led to trans patients not being called in for screening for conditions that may affect them due to their sex, such as ovarian cancer or prostate cancer. If trans patients are not screened for such conditions, the consequences are potentially fatal. The use of gender identity rather than sex has also led to confusion for some trans patients attempting to use sexual health services.

Freedom of information requests have revealed that multiple police forces in England now record crimes by male suspects as committed by women if the perpetrator requests to be recorded as such. Even small numbers of cases misclassified in this way can lead to substantial bias in crime statistics.

Differences between the sexes are an important factor for analysis in most, if not all, of the areas that social and health scientists address. Sex, alongside age, is a fundamental demographic variable, vital for projections regarding fertility and life expectancy. Sex has systematic effects on physical health and is also linked to mental health. And the importance of sex extends to all aspects of social life, including employment, education and crime.

We know that many differences between the sexes have changed dramatically over time – education and labour market participation are two examples. Without consistent data on sex, social scientists would not be able to track this change over time or to understand whether efforts to improve the representation of women and girls in domains where they are underrepresented have been effective.

We have been losing data on sex, as public sector bodies have switched to collecting data on gender identity instead. But the tide may have turned. The UK Statistics Authority has recently published guidance that recommends that “sex, age and ethnic group should be routinely collected and reported in all administrative data and in-service process data, including statistics collected within health and care settings and by police, courts and prisons”. It also says data producers should clearly distinguish between concepts such as sex, gender and gender identity.

Both people’s material circumstances and their identities are important to their lives. We know that sex matters, and we have much to learn about the ways in which gender identity matters, too. Rather than removing data on sex, we should collect data on both sex and gender identity, in order to develop a better understanding of the influence of both of these factors and the intersection between them.

Original article in The Conversation

Professor Alice Sullivan’s academic profile

UCL Social Research Institute

#social science #data #Erasure of equality measures for everyone #radblr #radical feminism

[callsign-bunnie]

Alright alright alright....

Alejandro finds out Rodolfo has been a hybrid this whole time but for some reason, was able to hide it.

Shoutout my wife for sending me this ask when I've been having a very shit January to cheer me up, even though she doesn't like ABO. Reminder that hybrids is ABO, so Rudy is an omega even if Alejandro is still human and not an alpha. Also yes I did write smut

--

Rodolfo had been born… weird. To him, it never had been odd. His entire family was like him, and he’d gotten to know plenty of others exactly like him, too. But, when he was born, he was born with rabbit ears and a tail, and a hell of a lot of rabbit instinct.

His family had told him, when he first started to go to school, that he would have to hide his features. Presenting as an omega had been even harder, because humans didn’t have that secondary sex. To them, he was just supposed to be a boy, nothing else. He had to hide his instinct, wear scent blockers, and pin his ears down so he could arrange his hair properly.

His tail could sort of just get squished down in his pants or shorts.

Thankfully, the other hybrids had an easier time finding each other. He’d met quite a bit over his school years that he hadn’t felt completely alone, but… then he met Alejandro when he was about 14.

Alejandro was human, he was normal. Unlike other humans, when that rabbit instinct slipped through, Alejandro had never seemed repulsed over it. He’d teased Rodolfo for having to be vegan a few times, but had decked someone else and cried “It’s a health issue” for doing the same. 

They’d met in gym class. Rodolfo was fairly active, having a lot of energy, and that had apparently caught Alejandro’s interest. Alejandro had ran with a bit more popular of a crowd, too, while Rodolfo had tried to just stick with the other hybrids, and was only friends with another hybrid omega named Chuy, though he was a mountain lion and not a rabbit. A friendship which his family did not like, since in their community, prey and predators were not usually friends.

They’d stopped complaining about it when they met Alejandro, for the record. A predator animal, that was… taboo. A human? Worse.

But, Rodolfo remembered that he and Chuy had been sitting together after class, having special paperwork that meant they got their own time to dress in a special locker room due to their status, talking about a hybrid event coming up, when they’d both been startled by Alejandro suddenly standing right in front of them.

He’d grinned at Rodolfo, told him that he was really impressive while running that day. Chuy had ended up revealing that his family and Alejandro’s families were intimately connected. Around that time Chuy became obsessed with another shifter and so Rodolfo pursued Alejandro for a friendship, curious about humans.

Hiding everything from Alejandro was harder than he could ever fully convey. Trying to explain why they couldn’t go to each other’s houses, why he never was willing to undress around him, what health issues could keep him from eating meat, and why he randomly disappeared for two weeks every four months was difficult.

When omega instinct kicked in and he fell head over heels when both were 17? Even harder.

And explaining to his parents why he was risking discovery, his safety, and his life to follow some human into the military? That was the hardest.

See, he wouldn’t have to lie to the military, if he was willing to be separated from Alejandro. Chuy’s unit, they were all hybrids. He’d followed that same hybrid into the military, an alpha female named Valeria Garza, and as he’d been willing to be open about it, they’d stuck them both in the hybrids unit. 

Rodolfo, however, didn’t want to be separate from Alejandro. So he’d lied. He’d continued to pin his ears down, made excuse after excuse to hide his ears, the extra things on his body, started to take heavy black market heat blockers that made him so absurdly sick, all so he could stay near Alejandro. 

For the first years, he’d just been glad to have Chuy and Valeria, who understood. But when Valeria betrayed them, angry against the humans for their continued treatment of the various non humans hiding amongst them, and Chuy running away to join a PMC, he’d been left feeling very alone and only more desperate to stay near Alejandro, following him all the way up the ranks until he sat where he was, now.

Becoming SIC was equally a blessing and a curse. He had private quarters, he was paid well, it was easier to hide. He transitioned from black market heat blockers to good ones from reputable sources, and which helped him not be so sick all of the time. He could gear up in his own quarters, he could unpin his ears for a bit, indulge in some omega instinct like nesting, but… he was still lonely.

Alejandro was busy, at first, as was expected becoming Colonel so young and at, objectively, one of the worst times. Rodolfo’s job was fairly easy, just in charge of scouting missions and he took over paperwork, as Alejandro struggled with those things. They were still close friends, but it was obvious the stakes were different. Rodolfo was Alejandro’s best friend, but Rodolfo was still so absurdly in love with him.

He’d almost told him a few times. When Valeria found out that Alejandro didn’t know, she had used that to her advantage, threatening Rodolfo with it. “He’s human, Rodolfo… You can’t think he’ll want you in any way when he finds out. The moment he finds out what you are, he’ll toss you aside like garbage.”

“Like you did with Chuy?”

“Watch it.”

Rodolfo didn’t give into any of her demands, but the fear was there. She was vindictive, she was cruel, and he knew that one day she was going to tell Alejandro. Reasonably, he knew he needed to tell him before she did, but he was so unbelievably terrified of Alejandro throwing him away that he just couldn’t manage.

Regardless, he’d found out.

Rodolfo had been so stupid. He’d been careless. Usually, he locked his door before changing, which had led Alejandro to knowing that if the door was unlocked, he could just walk in. 

They’d just been on a very long and exhausting mission. His body was sore, made worse by the fact that he was close to a heat, which was affecting his body regardless of the blockers. It would pass without happening, but he’d still be sore and achy, and he may have been distracted thinking about the Colonel, knowing his thoughts were only made worse by the nearing event.

So, he’d just stumbled into his room, shut the door, and peeled his gear off before taking a very long and hot shower, didn’t bother to dress save for some boxers (which he hated, for the record, human males had abysmal options for underwear, why did they torture themselves?), and just curled up on the small sofa he had, planning to eat an entire carton of strawberries and watch some of the hybrid media he’d literally had to smuggle into the base.

As such, he’d gotten into the mini fridge that he had in his quarters, got out the strawberries, and then curled up on the couch, wincing and whining at an ache in his legs. Being a good runner, and being fast, meant that he was often the one chasing those that ran, which had been what happened that day. To be fair, it was fun to watch these massive narcos get absolutely shocked when this much smaller person would tackle them and take them down with ease. The military had been a blessing in the way that no one usually questioned why a special forces officer could do things that humans could not.

He made an unhappy noise at the realization that some of the strawberries were too squishy for him to reasonably eat, not willing to torture himself, and so he got right back up and went to the sink, separating the bad ones and then rinsing the good ones. The itchiness of having to keep his waistband low under his tail only added to his irritation. None of this would be a big deal if he wasn’t already tired and unhappy, but he supposed that maybe he should cut some holes in a few pairs to just stick the tail through.

He smiled to himself as he heard the door knob jiggle, knowing that was Alejandro checking to see if he could come in. At some point, he’d knocked, but that was years ago. A few excuses he could make later ran through his head, though they were all drowned out by the sudden terror as he heard the door actually open and he realized he’d never locked it.

Immediately, his heart pounded as he quickly turned and watched Alejandro  come into the room with horror.

“Hey, Rudy, I-” Alejandro stopped and stared right at Rodolfo, and his eyes moved to the top and then down the sides of Rodolfo’s head. See, Rodolfo had been fortunate that he was a floppy eared rabbit hybrid, so keeping them pinned down hadn’t been nearly as difficult as it could be.

Rodolfo was frozen, only really able to process the sound of his heart beating far too fast, before finally his flight instinct kicked in and he dashed to the bathroom, slamming the door and sinking to the ground. How would he explain this away? How would he even lie about it?

A knock on the bathroom door only scared him more and he had to really fight not to climb into the cabinet under his bathroom sink, taking a deep breath and realizing he had to face this head on. No he couldn’t, who was he kidding? No, he climbed right under the sink, and a moment later the bathroom door opened as well.

Unsurprisingly, Alejandro opened the cabinet door a moment later. Rodolfo should have known better, he’d frequently done that when freaked out in school, so of course Alejandro would know to look in the nearest cabinet. Well… not that there was really anywhere else for Rodolfo to be in the bathroom.

Alejandro had crouched down, and he frowned as he again looked at Rodolfo. Rodolfo couldn’t hold his gaze, looking away and curling up tightly. “I thought she was full of shit…” Alejandro murmured, which startled Rodolfo. “She told me that you were different, but I thought it was all a joke…”

Rodolfo knew who she was, immediately, his mind moving to Valeria. Of course she told Alejandro… She didn’t make empty threats. “I’m sorry…”

“Please come out here.” Alejandro murmured, holding a hand out. Rodolfo looked at it, instinct telling him that he shouldn’t. He first cringed further back into the cabinet, but Alejandro’s face softened and his eyes turned pleading. “Please?”

Rodolfo instantly gave in, unable to really say no to Alejandro, and so he accepted his hand and let Alejandro gently tug him out from under the sink, instinctively going to push his ears back so they would push under his hair and hide, but he was stopped by Alejandro, his wrist being caught before he could. “I want to see them.” Alejandro murmured and Rodolfo tensed but nodded, looking away and lowering his hand when it was released.

It was scarily silent for a bit before Rodolfo was startled, again, flinching back when Alejandro touched his ears. Alejandro’s movement paused before his hand moved to gently start petting them, which had Rodolfo melting involuntarily. Slowly, Rodolfo turned his head to look at Alejandro, surprised to see a sort of awe in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Alejandro asked, furrowing his brows. 

“I was scared…” Rodolfo mumbled, looking down. “To you, I was just a human male. I thought you’d think it was weird, that I’m a freak…”

“Oh, Rudy… I could never think you’re a freak.” Alejandro murmured. “Valeria told me a few months after she left. I thought she was just… crazy. You know how she is, so I ignored it and forgot about it. But you acted so afraid of her… like she knew something that I didn’t.”

“Of course she told you…” Rodolfo’s shoulders dropped. “She threatened me with it.”

Alejandro shook his head and then he did an odd thing, moving and picking Rodolfo up, bridal style, before taking him back out to the main part of the room, setting him on the couch and then sitting beside him. Rodolfo found himself bright red, trying not to get too excited at the simple touch, and unable to completely fight instinct.

Alejandro, though, appeared to be in deep thought, putting his hands together and then resting his chin on them. Rodolfo’s anxiety only grew and he looked down at his hands, before jumping when Alejandro touched his arm. “I want to know more.”

Rodolfo hesitated and then nodded. “What do you want to know?”

“What… are you?”

“We call ourselves hybrids…” Rodolfo mumbled, looking down and fidgeting with his fingers. “My family are all hybrids… We have secondary sexes that determine reproductive ability, unlike humans. I’m an omega…”

Alejandro nodded. “Valeria called you that. You can… get pregnant, right?” He didn’t look weirded out, actually he looked curious. He looked… interested.

Rodolfo bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah… I also have a heat cycle but I am on very heavy blockers, so those don’t show up.”

Alejandro furrowed his brows, but nodded a bit. “I see… and you’re a rabbit?”

Rodolfo blushed dark red, nodding again. “I don’t have a specific breed… Some take pride in being a purebred, kind of like racism, but… I’m not. My family has a lot of different breeds.”

Alejandro nodded, again, and then went quiet for a bit. “It’s… a lot.” He admitted and Rodolfo couldn’t help flinching and ducking his head. “You won’t have to hide, anymore, though. Not around me, not around Los Vaqueros.”

Rodolfo blinked and frowned, looking up at Alejandro who was watching him earnestly. “I… But what if they-”

“If they have any other reaction but positive neutrality, I will have them discharged.” Alejandro shrugged. “You’re SIC, no matter what you are. More specifically, you’re my SIC. They’ll respect that.”

Rodolfo couldn’t help blushing dark red at the very mild possessiveness, nodding a bit and looking away again before Alejandro touched his chin and made him look at him, again. Alejandro smiled at him and Rodolfo softened. “Is your dietary needs… because of you being a rabbit?”

Rodolfo nodded. “It is. I can’t eat meat or it makes me very sick. I have to be careful about a lot, actually.”

Alejandro furrowed his brows and nodded. “I’ll research what rabbits can eat and make sure you have food options.” To be fair, Alejandro had already made sure there was a vegan option, but some of it, Rodolfo still couldn’t eat. 

Alejandro’s eyes seemed to finally register the strawberries, because Rodolfo watched him get up and go grab the carton, bringing it back to Rodolfo and holding it out. Rodolfo couldn’t help blushing, again, and thanked him as he took them. “How do you hide your ears?”

Rodolfo flushed. “I pin them down… It’s easier, they’ve grown into the position now.”

Alejandro made a face. “That can’t be comfortable.”

“It’s not…” Rodolfo admitted, looking down at the carton of strawberries. “It used to hurt, really bad. Back in school, when I had to pin them for hours at a time.”

“Is that why you and Chuy had special times in the locker room? So you could hide?” Alejandro tilted his head, ahhing when Rodolfo nodded. “Well… you don’t have to pin them anymore.”

“What about when I leave the base?” Rodolfo frowned, furrowing his brows.

“You won’t. On missions, you can wear a helmet, which I’ll have made special to fit your ears. And on base, just keep them out. I’ll start taking Alvarez or Rodrigez to meetings, and when I need to leave Las Almas.” Alejandro shook his head. “You don’t have to hide, anymore.”

Rodolfo couldn’t help just melting and he nodded a little, smiling. “Thank you… For not thinking I’m a freak.”

Alejandro shook his head. “I would never think you’re a freak. I would never because…” He took a deep breath and then pushed his hands down his legs. “I’m in love with you. And I’ve been in love with you for a very long time.”

Rodolfo’s heart stopped and he found himself freezing again, only able to just stare at Alejandro in shock. “I… I…”

“I had a crush on you in school.” Alejandro admitted, his face turning red. “It’s why I came and tried so hard to talk to you. However, any time I tried to approach the subject, you would turn away. I mean, I tried to bring up homosexuality and you acted like you didn’t even know what that word was.”

“That was a weird conversation.” Rodolfo agreed, remembering Alejandro stammering over his words. He’d asked his sister, but she had said it was a silly human concept and moved on. “I didn’t actually learn what it meant until a couple years ago… I just… I thought…” Well, reasonably he’d figured out that Alejandro was trying to come out. “I didn’t think I’d fit into that for… quite a few reasons.”

“You thanked me for being comfortable enough to tell you!” Alejandro laughed, softly, and Rodolfo groaned and covered his face, now dark red. “A lot more things make a lot more sense now. I had to explain so many basic human things…”

Rodolfo whined, darker and darker red. “I didn’t know what any of it meant…”

“I can see why, now.” Alejandro nodded and he smiled at Rodolfo, softening. “I didn’t understand a lot of the instinct I seemed to have around you. Like some part of me inherently knew…”

“That might have been my pheromones.” Rodolfo winced. “Omegas have special pheromones that bring out a kind of… instinct in alphas. It must have affected you, too.”

Alejandro nodded, furrowing his brows. “That makes sense.”

Rodolfo hesitated and then looked down again. “I… I’ve loved you for a long time, too… I was so scared, though…”

“I wish you hadn’t been.” Alejandro shook his head. “I wish I could have been there for you. I imagine this must have been hard to go through, alone.”

“Incredibly…” Rodolfo mumbled, dropping his shoulders. “I had Chuy, but when Valeria betrayed us, he ran off and then I had no one.”

“I remember you were devastated.” Alejandro furrowed his brows and nodded. “He asked you to leave with him, I remember I was very jealous and upset.”

Rodolfo hadn’t taken it as jealousy, the idea not even occurring to him. He’d just figured that Alejandro had been lashing out due to what had happened, as he remembered Alejandro and Valeria had become close friends. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. It was a cultural difference, I think.” Alejandro sighed and then smiled. “So is Chuy also an omega?” 

Rodolfo nodded a bit. “You never would have had to worry about him, I’m not attracted to omegas.”

Alejandro looked incredibly relieved, which Rodolfo couldn’t help melting at. He felt all fuzzy from the idea of the jealousy Alejandro must have experienced, and he hesitated before curling up to Alejandro, melting more when Alejandro responded by pulling him into his lap. 

Alejandro started to touch over his ears, again, and then Rodolfo yelped and blushed when his tail was grabbed. He scolded Alejandro, who apologized. “Can I look at it?”

Rodolfo hesitantly stood, putting his back to Alejandro and blushing even darker when he felt Alejandro touch his tail, though it was very respectful, keeping away from the skin around it. He did tug and Rodolfo quickly swatted his hand away, the skin sensitive. “You could pull it off.”

“I’m sorry…” Alejandro murmured and Rodolfo turned back around to face him. “Rabbits are so fragile… You could have been hurt so many times in the field.”

“Not even taking into account predator hybrids and shifters,” Rodolfo retorted before stopping himself, seeing Alejandro’s eyes almost appear to fill with horror. “I’ll be okay, though!” He quickly promised.

“I’m not putting you back into the field, ever.” Alejandro shook his head, his eyes hardening. “I didn’t even know that was a risk.”

“I’ll be fine…” Rodolfo reassured, sitting on the couch beside him again. “I’ve been trained for this, I’ve been fine this entire time.”

Alejandro did not look convinced. “We’ll discuss this later.” He said, and Rodolfo winced, since that usually meant Alejandro’s mind was made up and they would, in fact, not be discussing this later. Rodolfo, though, decided he’d just push his luck, later. 

Instead, he nodded and looked down at his hands, allowing himself to just enjoy Alejandro’s protectiveness. A moment later, his face was gently touched and then he was made to look at Alejandro before Alejandro pressed his lips to Rodolfo’s. 

Rodolfo immediately melted into the contact, amazed by finally experiencing what he’d only fantasized about. It was perfect, too. Alejandro was full of the heat that Rodolfo had imagined he would be, and he grasped Rodolfo with as much desire and possessiveness that Rodolfo had indulgently wanted there to be. When Alejandro pushed him to lay back, he didn’t disobey, instead moving to lay back while Alejandro moved with him.

However, it was when Alejandro’s hands touched the waistband of his boxers that he remembered the human anatomy crash course that Liliana, his sister, had given him when he was just figuring out his feelings for Alejandro and had asked her. She was also an omega, but female omegas were apparently fairly similar to human females. So, he quickly jerked back from Alejandro, since he knew omega males and human males were not. “I um… I um…” Rodolfo turned bright red, more so at Alejandro’s apparent confusion. “I’m… I’m different down there.”

Alejandro furrowed his brows before cringing. “You don’t have like… rabbit… genitals, right?”

“No, no.” Rodolfo shook his head. “No, I’m still human down there, just… um… I have… both.”

“...both?”

“I think the human term is hermaphroditic.” Rodolfo blushed. “Though I can’t impregnate, at all.”

Alejandro furrowed his brows and then he touched Rodolfo’s waistband, again, looking to Rodolfo for permission. Rodolfo hesitated before nodding, looking away and taking deep breaths to stay calm and not become anxious again. Rodolfo’s boxers were carefully tugged down and his breath hitched when Alejandro lifted one his legs to push them apart. “I see.” Alejandro said and Rodolfo cringed, feeling very exposed. He gasped and tensed when fingers touched at his hole, blushing dark dark red. “You’re wet…”

“Yeah…” Rodolfo pressed his eyes shut, taking deeper breaths. 

Alejandro chuckled, softly, and Rodolfo opened his eyes in surprise. “Makes things easier.” Alejandro shrugged and then the fingers pressed inside, which had Rodolfo gasping at the heat that came from the action. 

He moaned when they started to move, curling and twisting, which shot little jolts of pleasure up his spine. “Hermoso…” Alejandro purred and Rodolfo’s skin warmed. “So pretty… Look at you…”

Rodolfo whined and reached up for Alejandro, pulling him close and burying his face in Alejandro’s neck, lifting his legs to wrap them around Alejandro, who seemed to gladly take advantage of the new angle, shoving his fingers deep inside Rodolfo. His fingers were long enough that he could press them against Rodolfo’s back wall, a feat that Rodolfo hadn’t even managed yet, so the sudden and intense pleasure had his legs shaking, already. 

Alejandro was a fast learner, he’d always been and it was one of the things Rodolfo admired about him. He took the reaction and started to abuse the pleasure, finding every spot inside of Rodolfo that had him crying and trembling within barely minutes. Rodolfo was soaking wet, able to feel it, and Alejandro chuckled softly, “you’re soaked. Did I do that?”

Rodolfo just whined in response, nodding and keeping his face hidden in Alejandro’s neck. He moved to bite and kiss at the skin he could reach, pleased at the soft groans he earned. 

When Alejandro removed his fingers, Rodolfo couldn’t help crying and trying to stop him, but Alejandro soothed him by petting over his ears and moving to kiss over his face. “Shh… I’m not stopping, I just need to get my jeans down.”

Rodolfo blushed and relaxed, nodding and dropping his legs so Alejandro could back up and undress. He was quick with the process, soon covering Rodolfo’s body with his own. The skin to skin contact had Rodolfo’s body very hot with need and he was quick to wrap his legs back around Alejandro, looking up to meet his eyes. They were intense, filled with a dark desire, and Rodolfo blushed, quickly looking away.

Alejandro, however, moved and started to bite over his neck, rough but not harsh, and then he was pushing in and Rodolfo was crying his name, stretched to the brim and so very very full. It was an amazing feeling, relieving like cold water on a hot day. “Fuck, you’re tight…” Alejandro groaned, resting his actions for a moment. “Tighter than I’ve had and that is saying something, all points considered.”

Pride bloomed in Rodolfo’s chest and he made a pleased sound. “You’re the biggest.” He offered, since it was true, before whimpering and whining when Alejandro rocked his hips a bit. “Don’t tease me…” He begged. 

“I’m sorry, mi amor…” Alejandro murmured, kissing over Rodolfo’s face again. “You’re so pretty when you cry like that, though…”

Rodolfo moved to hide, gasping when he was stopped and made to look up at Alejandro, who cupped his face. “Don’t look away from me. I love your eyes and I can’t see them when you hide your face.” Alejandro shook his head.

Rodolfo blushed and nodded, biting back an instinctual apology. Finally, Alejandro adjusted and then started to move, slowly pulling all the way out before pushing back inside. The sensation had Rodolfo feeling unable to breathe, already overwhelmed by pleasure. 

Alejandro didn’t stop, though, picking up a consistent, fast pace that had him hitting deep inside Rodolfo’s body, making Rodolfo swear he could feel him in his stomach. “You fill me so much…” Rodolfo whimpered, crying out at a sharp thrust. “To the brim and more…”

“Good…” Alejandro growled, quickening his pace and then grabbing Rodolfo by the back of his head and forcing him to tilt it back before attacking his now exposed neck.

At first, the action startled and caused an instinctual fear in Rodolfo, before he was melting and crying from pleasure. Alejandro’s hands gripped his hips in a bruising manner and Rodolfo hoped they would, wanting a lasting mark of this moment, of him finally getting everything he ever wanted. 

“Can I get you pregnant?” The sudden question startled Rodolfo, but he nodded, honestly. “Fuck… that drives me crazy in ways it shouldn’t…” Alejandro’s eyes darkened. 

Rodolfo moaned at another sharp thrust, pleasure curling in his stomach from the statement. He would admit he very much liked the idea, rocking his hips to encourage Alejandro to breed him. Eventually, his cock was grabbed and pumped at the same speed, which had Rodolfo thrashing. His thighs trembled at an almost alarming rate and his entire body tensed before an orgasm crashed into his body, too fast for him to really even process.

But, it didn’t matter, because he was flipped onto his stomach as Alejandro’s pace became animalistic, his shoulder being harshly bit into, and the action keeping Rodolfo suspended in his orgasm, prolonging it until Alejandro was finally jerking his movements and hot thick cum filled Rodolfo’s insides. 

Finally, Alejandro collapsed onto his back, burying his face in Rodolfo’s shoulder and nuzzling him. “Fuck…”

Rodolfo agreed, panting as he tried to come down. “I’ve wanted this for so very long…”

“So have I.” Alejandro nodded before starting to gently and lazily kiss over Rodolfo’s skin. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you have everything to be healthy and happy. I may need some education, but I promise to try.”

Rodolfo just melted, very warm and fuzzy. “I am on heat blockers… Which block my heat cycle. So… officially, I can’t get pregnant right now.”

Alejandro nodded a bit. “We’ll talk about that one, later. If you wish to come off them, we could easily just go to the ranch during your cycle.”

Rodolfo again got all fuzzy and warm at the idea, happily wiggling his tail between him and Alejandro’s bodies, blushing when Alejandro was quick to sit up and pull out. “Do that again.” Alejandro commanded and Rodolfo shyly repeated the action. “Fuck, you’re adorable, too. I’ve always thought that, too. I felt bad, because I thought I was emasculating you.”

Uh oh. New term. “I don’t uh… I don’t know what that means.” Rodolfo blushed, laying his face on the arm of the couch. “Humans have such silly terms.”

“I’ll explain it later.” Alejandro chuckled and picked Rodolfo up, moving them to Rodolfo’s bed and practically wrestling Rodolfo into curling up against his chest. “What other things can you do?”

Rodolfo blushed and then perked his ears up, like he did when he was trying to hear better. “My human ears are purely aesthetic… Just a remnant of evolution, I guess.”

Alejandro furrowed his brows. “No wonder your hearing is so dogshit, then, with them kept to your head.”

“Yeah…” Rodolfo winced and dropped his ears, again, blushing when Alejandro watched them droop. “They’re actually pretty reactive. But, it is very hard to hear with them pinned. Liliana learned sign to get around it.”

Alejandro nodded a bit and smiled. “Well, now you don’t have to. You’re so beautiful…” He murmured, reaching up to again pet his ears, which had Rodolfo melting and curling up tighter to him. “So pretty.”

“Thank you…” Rodolfo looked up at him, smiling when he was kissed, softly. He then yawned, exhausted from every part of the day. 

“Sleep, Rudy…” Alejandro pulled the blanket up over them and continued to pet him. “We have a lot to discuss.”

“We do…”

--

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[a-killer-obsession]

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 7 - Trust

You help Mohawk give the crew their annual medical checkups.

WC: ~4k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

Apparently the Kid Pirates took their health more seriously than Yin would have guessed, because during dinner it was decided that tomorrow Yin would start her new job in the infirmary by assisting with annual medical checkups. Apparently Mohawk was adamant that the crew have regular health assessments, though to be honest only the top dogs ever usually made it through more than one annual checkup. Henchmen and cabin boys didn't often survive that long. Regardless, he kept well organized records of everyone currently on the ship, with manila folders containing sheets of information, from medical history to blood types to work he'd done himself. They were all kept in careful alphabetical order in filing cabinets that sat in the infirmary, organized by first name since many of the ship's occupants didn't have a surname.

With the addition of Yin's skills he was determined to add a new sheet of paper to each file, documenting old bone breaks, as well as any current internal issues that he might not have been able to catch without scanning equipment. The crew wasn't due for their annuals for another month or so, but he was excited to test out her abilities, so he'd convinced Kid to bring it forward.

She followed him to the infirmary after breakfast, where he gave her a quick tour of the room before performing her own checkup. He usually liked to do an initial interview when a new crewmate came on board but there hadn't really been the opportunity to do it till now. Anytime she'd been free, he'd been busy.

She gave him the short version of her life, he wasn't shocked to hear how the marines had treated her. They discussed contraceptives for a short while, but in truth he didn't really know much about them, since he was used to working for a crew of only men. She told him she had some sort of implant the commodore had forced on to her, so he made a note to look in to it, but left it be at that. The entire female reproductive system was something he was going to need to study now. He at least didn't need to inquire about her last cycle, or how irregular her period was, since he'd heard from Heat what happened during her initiation. He'd been unsurprised to discover the slave mark burned in to her skin in the middle of her back, it was long healed since it had been probably twenty years since she was branded.

“Any old injuries to note?” He asked, pulling out the new page he'd whipped up yesterday and photocopied a million times. It had a simple outline of a human, duplicated and labeled ‘front’ and ‘back’, with space around the edges so he could make notes and draw arrows to mark notable injuries.

“I broke my left ankle when I was learning to moon step, when I was about fourteen,” she said, tapping her lip with her index finger while she tried to recall past injuries, “oh and I dislocated my right hip when I was eight”

“How'd you do that?” He asked, making quick notes on the page.

“Got raped by a man too big for me,” she said plainly. He paused and put down his pen, letting out a heavy sigh. She seemed indifferent, like she'd just told him she'd fallen from a tree or something. You know, something normal for an eight year old to have done. He didn't pry further, she'd already given him her life story, he didn't need more information.

“I just need to check your eyes and ears and we can start calling the crew in for their checks,” he said, wheeling his stool over to sit in front of her. She was sitting over the side of the examination table. The infirmary wasn't large, but it was big enough for a decent size desk, an examination table, and a couple of more comfortable beds for those who needed a quiet place to recover, or required observation. The walls were lined with cabinets, many of them under lock and key, bookcases containing medical journals, and several tall filing cabinets. The room didn't have any windows, since it was smack in the middle of the building that sat above deck towards the back of the ship, and it smelt heavily of medical grade disinfectant.

“Can you remove your mask for me?” He asked politely, otoscope in hand.

“I can but you have to be quick, did Killer explain how my mask works to you?” She asked.

“He did, you won't be able to hear or see me properly, correct?” He said, “I'll be quick, just look straight ahead and stay still, I'll put your mask back on as soon as I'm done”

“Okay then, I think I trust you,” she slid her mask off and placed it on the bed beside her, sitting as still as she could, “okay, go ahead,” she couldn't make out her own voice, but she hoped she was speaking.

He gasped as he looked at her eyes and saw the grey-pink, no whites or iris or discernable pupil visible on them. He pushed it aside for now, he had to check her ears first. He moved quickly, knowing that every second he took was another second for her to become overwhelmed. Killer had warned that in the past she'd been known to become feral when she was without her mask, and he didn't feel like getting bitten today.

Her ears looked healthy, so he swapped his otoscope for his ophthalmoscope, rolling his stool to be directly in front of her and gently pulling her eyelids away to see more of her eyeballs. It was useless, he couldn't make out anything remotely human on her eyes other than the shape - whatever was going on with them was outside of his skillset. He sighed and gave up, putting the tool down and picking her mask up to slide carefully over her head. She felt it starting to touch her, so she quickly took over and shimmied it into its usual comfortable position.

“All done?” She asked.

“All done, thanks for not biting me,” he half laughed as he scribbled notes in her chart.

“I only do that to men who ask nicely,” he assumed she winked after that but he couldn't tell past the visor.

“Right,” he tried to brush it off, he wasn't one who was comfortable or who knew how to react to open flirting, “so, with the others. I'll do all my usual examinations, and when I'm done I'll have you scan them. I want to hear about any current or old injuries, and any abnormalities you see. I've never had access to scanning equipment so it'll be mostly new information for me.”

“Okay, can do doc!” She replied, moving from the exam table to the desk, sitting on the edge and kicking her feet.

“One last thing,” Mohawk said as he stood to go find his first patient. Most of the crew thought medical checks were for pussies and would no doubt be unwilling victims, “everything in this room comes under doctor-patient confidentiality okay? You're my nurse now, everything you hear is to be kept private. And keep it professional, you may be surprised how many of these men have STIs. If I hear a single laugh while I'm looking at someone's dick I'll have Killer drown you, got it?”

“Genitals don't phase me, most of the showers in the marines were mixed gender,” she shrugged, “you may be surprised to hear how many dicks I've come face first with to check for UTIs”

“Okay, good, we should have no issues then,” he said, “get off the desk, it's not professional. Sit in my chair till I need your assistance. I'll be mostly on the stool anyway”

“Roger that, doc,” she gave a mock salute and slid off the desk as he left.

Yin really was surprised at how many henchmen had STIs, and by the time they were done she was sure she could recite Mohawk's safe sex spiel of the top of her head, word for word. A few henchmen had been suffering in silence with bad constipation, and one had a badly broken toe. The cabin boys were all relatively healthy, but Mohawk gave them all the safe sex talk anyway, since it wouldn't be long before they started getting curious about the women, and he desperately hoped he could keep them from turning in to disease-ridden henchmen. Some of them were already partaking, but had been lucky enough to not catch anything.

It was well in to the afternoon when they got to the officers and commanders. The officers were all healthy, being that they'd been on the ship long enough to have regular checkups and knew well to follow Mohawk's advice. Yin had to stand on the examination table to check Wire's head, since he was just so damn tall.

She was surprised to find during Heat's examination that he actually had several hidden piercings that she could see through his clothes while she scanned him. She didn't ask why his dick was pierced, it didn't seem like an appropriate medical question. Kid wasn't happy about being examined, and complained the whole time that he was too busy for this shit. Mohawk gave him a long, stern talking to about drinking less beer and more water, if he didn't want a repeat of yesterday. She hadn't realised that the metal arm didn't have a real arm inside, she'd just assumed it was some sort of cover. She bit back a gasp when he removed it so Mohawk could check the stump of what used to be an arm. The base had metal embedded in to it, assumedly to help the prosthetic stick. She did her best to not gawk.

Last up was Killer, who they had to wait quite long for since he had been busy with some new recipe he had wanted to try that required being cooked slowly for many hours. He smelled of freshly cut herbs and bread when he entered, mixed with his usual scent of musk and spices. He locked the door as he entered, and Yin came to the jarring realisation that he was probably going to need to remove his mask. Mohawk went through his usual line of questioning before standing in front of Killer, he was too tall to examine from the stool. He did the same flexibility and grip strength tests he'd done for everyone else, and tapped his knees with a little hammer to check reaction times, before picking up his otoscope and turning to Yin expectantly.

“Right, sorry,” she said, turning and facing the wall. She heard something click and hair rustling as Killer removed his mask. “Hey um.. should I examine his head while the mask is off? I can't see his face if I'm scanning him, I promise”

“My head is fine,” Killer said flatly.

“I'm making notes of old injuries as well though, its important for my records,” Mohawk explained, “she's fast, it'll only take her a moment to check your head if nothing is wrong”

“Fine,” he sighed, “as long as she can't see”

“If my visor is dark green or red, I can't see you, just your insides,” she said, “to be honest I can only make out faces when its purple or like a neon green”

“Neon green is what you had when you killed the seaking right?” Killer asked, “is that some sort of night vision?”

“Yeah,” she explained, still awkwardly facing the wall, “and I can see pretty deep in the water as well, thats how I saw the seaking. I'm gonna turn around now, okay? I'll only be able to see your bones”

“Okay,” he replied. Mohawk finished checking Killer's eyes and stepped aside for her. She couldn't see well, but she'd spent all day in the room so she knew there was no furniture between them, and she could see their skeletons, the metal base of the examination bed, and Killer's mask sitting on the bed bedside him. She used what she could see as a guide to carefully make her way over, but she couldn't see the floor so her steps were awkward and she tripped.

“Woah, careful,” Mohawk said as he caught her, “what's wrong with you?”

“Can't see the floor,” she laughed, “I can only really see your bones and the metal things in the room, like Killer's mask and the base of the bed. Hard to walk without a floor”

She righted herself and stood carefully in front of Killer, who was definitely too tall. “You're too big, I'm gonna need to get on the table,” she climbed up on the side of him that didn't hold his mask, thankful that the base was metal and the mattress was thin so she could even see what she was doing. In her mind she was adding thickness to all the things she could see to account for what she couldn't.

“Ah- my hair-” Killer growled and pulled away, she'd unknowingly knelt on his long blond locks that had been resting against the bed.

“Fuck, sorry Kil,” she said, kneeling behind him, “I couldn't see it”

“It's fine, just get it over with,” he muttered, pulling his hair over his shoulder to the front so she couldn't catch it again.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” She asked as professionally as she could, “I need to turn your head”

“That's fine,” he replied.

She put her hands gently on either side of his head, carefully turning it and moving her hands around as she examined. It felt like he had thick bangs over his forehead, which definitely surprised her.

“Fuck you have a lot of old fractures for someone who wears a helmet,” she noted, “I can see… seven, Mohawk, if you want to note that down”

“Got it,” he replied, scribbling in his notes.

She turned Killer's face to look at her, her thumbs tracing his cheeks as she inspected them. She didn't even realise how intimate she was being, it was a natural process for her. His jawline seemed strong and his cheekbones looked prominent, if she had to guess she'd say he must have a sharp, attractive face. It looked symmetrical at the bone level, but who knows what kind of scars or deformities he might have on top that caused him to wear a mask.

“Old fracture on the left cheek as well,” she said, “I'd bet good money Kid did that”

“It'd be a winning bet,” he replied, suppressing a smile. Mohawk was busy with his notes, and she couldn't actually see his face, but he felt exposed anyway, and he didn't want anyone to see his ugly smile - the real reason he wore a mask.

“I'm gonna switch to red now okay?” She said, removing one of her hands from his face to fiddle with her mask. The visor turned red and her hand returned to his face, “Nothing of note on the front, eyes look healthy, frontal lobe looks fine,” she turned his head and made her way around, checking the side, then the back, then the other side. She paused, holding his head firmly in place. “Mohawk?”

“Mmm?” He looked up from his notes.

“There's something here, on the outside, towards the base of the neck,” she said, running her hand through Killer's hair and pulling it gently aside to clear the area she wanted Mohawk to check, “right here,” she pointed as she saw the bag of organs and veins that formed Mohawk stand beside the bed.

“It looks like a small cyst,” he said, prodding it with a gloved hand, “Killer I thought I told you to let me know if your mask did shit like this, it looks like it's about where the edge would rub”

“It's nothing,” he pulled Yin's hand out of his hair, entirely ignoring how nice her delicate hands felt woven through his locks, “I was just gonna deal with it myself”

Mohawk sighed and returned to his desk, “you're staying when she's done checking you over, so I can deal with that. It needs draining”

“I have shit to do,” Killer grumbled.

“Will you stop being a baby and let him do his job?” Yin scowled as she slid off the bed carefully, “now stand up so I can finish the scan, you can put your mask back on but I still have to check the rest of you”

He sighed and put his mask back in place before unwillingly standing, she tugged his arm to pull him further from the bed so she could walk all the way around him and quickly went about her scan, checking his bones first, then switching back to the red mode. She lifted his left arm as she checked his side.

“Your heart is beating a little fast Kil, you okay?” She noted.

“His heart rate was fine before,” Mohawk mused, quirking an eyebrow at Killer, who scowled under his mask at the clear insinuation.

“I'm just pissed off, now hurry the fuck up and quit touching me,” he growled.

“Anddd mister grumpymask is back,” she smiled, “relax, I'm done. He's all clear, doc, fit as a fiddle”

“Good, thats everyone then,” Mohawk said as he made a few last notes and stood to start collecting the supplies he needed for Killer's cyst, “you can go, Yin, thank you for your help. It won't always be this much work, I promise”

“Its fine,” she replied, unlocking the door to leave, “this was fun, I was happy to help. See you two at dinner,” she sung as she left. Mohawk gave her a weak goodbye, and Killer remained quiet.

Dinner wasn't far off, in fact by the time Mohawk was done with Killer it was time to head to the dining hall. Everyone else was already there, and Killer quickly finished off the special recipe of slow cooked beef and beer stew that he'd been working on earlier, with several fresh loaves of sourdough he'd made earlier to go with it.

“Anything of importance to report from the annuals?” Kid asked Mohawk as he dipped his bread in the hearty stew.

“Just that your henchmen need to keep it in their pants if they can't learn to use a rubber,” Mohawk sighed.

“The usual then,” Kid laughed, “dirty cunts”

“Oi, Yin,” Wire interjected, “I've got a question for you”

“Hit me,” she replied with a smile, inhaling another mouthful of the delicious stew - Killer's cooking really was the best she'd ever had.

“How did you know anything about us or our reputation if you've been locked away for the last five years?” He asked in a serious tone. It felt like an integration, like he was about to crack open that everything she'd told them was a lie, “you knew who Heat and I were, you knew the Captain and Killer, you said you knew you'd fit in here. But you've been in a cell for the last five years, and we only got our first bounties a few years ago”

Eveyone else turned and stared at her, and Kid stopped eating entirely, mulling it over in his head and coming to the same realisation Wire had, that the dots didn't connect. “How did you know about us?” Kid was almost growling, it felt like a threat.

She sighed and put down her spoon, looking across the table at Killer's expressionless mask, like he could offer some sort of support. “You really want to know? You're not gonna like the answer”

“Answer the fucking question,” Kid said sternly, grinding his teeth.

“Okay, fuck, don't bite my fucking head off. I'd been with the commodore you found me with for most of my imprisonment, and I guess you could say he was a fan of yours,” she explained, careful to speak to Kid directly, so as not to incur any further wrath from him, “when you came on to the grandline he started getting a bit obsessed. Every time he came to… visit me… he would tell me about your crew, and the big promotion he was gonna get when he took you down. Which is ironic, in hindsight. Anyway at some point he started bringing in your bounty posters, the four of you, mostly Kid's, and he'd use them against me if I wasn't obediently letting him have his way with me. He'd say shit like ‘you're so lucky you have me here to protect you and make you feel so good’ and then he'd wave Kid's poster in my face and say ‘this cunt would rip your legs off just so he could fuck the bloody holes left behind, he'd rape you to death and then he'd keep going. His whole crew would rape your dead body till you were nothing but a pile of rotting bones’. Sometimes he'd leave the posters in the cell with me, to remind me of my place, so I got familiar with your faces. Of course I never believed that shit, it wasn't hard for me to see that the marines are the bad people in this world, I've seen pirates as the good guys for a long time now. The second Kid let me go the day you found me, I knew I was right and the commodore was full of shit. Not that I think there aren't pirates that rape, I just knew for sure that you guys didn't. Anyway, yeah. That's how.”

Kid was visibly angry, not at her but at the commodore, as he tore a huge chunk of bread from an untouched loaf and dipped it with a little too much force in to his stew, making liquid spill out around the edges of the bowl, “Fucker…” he said through a full mouth.

“I did say you wouldn't like it,” she grumbled, looking mournfully at her stew. She no longer had any appetite but forced herself to keep eating anyway. She didn't want to offend Killer by not finishing the food he'd made them.

“Sorry,” Wire said solemnly, “I shouldn't have pried”

“It's okay Wire,” she forced a smile for him, “I get it. I'm a stranger, you don't trust me, and things didn't add up. You were just protecting the crew. I hope you'll come to trust me, in time, like I'm trying my best to learn to trust all of you”

“Trust is hard earned,” Killer added plainly.

“You think I don't know that?” She almost yelled in clear annoyance. Heat spooked a little as she slammed a closed fist on the table, “You think its easy for me to be sitting here on a ship full of men when every man who has every touched me has raped me? You think I don't know how hard it is to learn to trust someone? Cut me some fucking slack, Killer”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“I'm not very hungry anymore,” she said, frustrated and angry. She felt like she was being treated like the enemy, and she'd done nothing to deserve it. She'd been working hard every day to earn their trust, and she felt brushed off. “Sorry, the food was delicious Killer, I'm just… not hungry anymore”

“Leave the bowl, I'll finish it,” Kid told her. He grabbed her hand before she left, “you'll have our trust, Killer's is just a little harder to earn. You're doing good work here, just give it time. I hope I can earn your trust as well, as your Captain”

“Thanks, Kid,” she sighed as he let her hand go. She didn't say anything more, and they watched as she quickly disappeared out of the galley and the doors swung shut behind her.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

#one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #killer one piece #killer x reader #massacre soldier killer #heat one piece #heat x reader #kid pirates

[missinconsistent]

You can tell people who don't watch Niji are really scrambling to find anything to hate about the AR Live because they just don't want any of the livers to celebrate any accomplishments. But if anyone is actually taking the opinions of those who didn't even watch the damn event at face value, here is my take on some of the "issues" these people are complaining about:

Long read.

THE GRADUATED LIVERS:

Pomu's, Nina's, and Mysta's voice were kept because it was a decision by the livers to be included for the fans. The remaining livers re-recorded their live stages after the others graduated, but some people actually think Niji was just showing 1-year-old footage, which would take some insane editing skills. The graduated livers' voices were part of the back track, not as part of the live singing. Their vocals were only heard for debut songs, too. There is also a weird narrative that the voices of the graduated livers should not have been allowed when there is no problem with it. Those graduated livers still support their friends and were more than happy to be included in AR Live even after graduating.

SELEN AND PASTEL STAGE:

It makes sense why Selen had to be cut from AR Live. There would be a lot more heat if they kept her in after her termination than to just roll with it since, unlike the graduated livers, Selen was terminated not long after already recording AR Live back in November last year.

I get it's upsetting many things had to be cut from Pastel Stage, but it's not just getting all the livers to Japan, but also booking the venue, getting the 3D riggers, stage staff, choreographers, and more. They'd have to push the AR Live concert even further after canceling the initial one. It honestly makes sense that they'd cut content rather than spend the resources to re-record it for a THIRD time. And since everyone wants the Niji to take better care of their livers' mental health, then not overworking them on this overdue project is a start.

3D MODELS AND RIGGING:

Apparently, someone paid the money to hate-watch AR Live so they could spread screenshots to make it look bad, despite the strict copyright rule not to share screenshots (which of course would lead to a DMCA). Frankly, if anyone is going to judge the quality of the whole 3-hour concert based on snippets and not actually bother to watch it, then they can't make the conclusion that the 3D models were bad. Although it's weird that someone did pay to sit through a 3-hour concert without having any intention of enjoying it to begin with.

I watched the concert, and the 3D models looked good, in my opinion. Nijisanji is known to have better 3D rigging compared to their competitors. The team that did the models and rigging did a perfectly fine job and it's pretty insulting to put it down because you chose to look at it under a microscope and pinpoint any instance where it might have looked off. A lot of the choreography (especially Shu's Shanti 🪑) and the variety games show how good the rigging can look, and it seems unfair to not look at those examples alongside the bad ones.

CONCLUSION

I feel like the Niji hate at this point is getting ridiculous. There's plenty of real reasons to not like Niji. If you want to "SiNk tHe yAtCht" so bad, you can boycott it and not spend money to hate-watch their concert, lol. Drama channels finding anything to talk about AR Live when they haven't even watched it is just another example of how little integrity they have to report hearsay. And it's tiring to always hear people looking at any possible negative thing to say when the livers and their fans are just being happy..?

Don't get me wrong, I have my criticisms of the company. I've aired it out before. Especially after Selen's termination. Hell, it's not like I don't have my own critique of AR Live. I also wish fans got more Pastel Stage. I also wish the first AR Live wasn't canceled. But by no means do I think the AR Live we got was bad.

I left the concert feeling elated and overall had way more positive thoughts about it than any negative ones. And it has me looking forward to future AR Live concerts. Other 3D debuts. And other projects like NijiEncounter.

Anyways, Niji antis can and will keep obsessively bitching about Niji, and then say "cope and seethe" when someone tells them to take a chill pill. But Niji AR Live did really well. The fans are proud of the livers' hard work to make it happen. There will be more positive things to come for Niji enjoyers. But if antis want to keep writing their own fan fiction that tells them otherwise, there's no point in changing their mind, lol.

For fans that want to keep supporting their livers, or any sane person that wants to see Niji better themselves, please don't let the hate keep you from celebrating any wins, big or small, that the livers are accomplishing.

#nijisanji en #nijisanji #ar live

[agendabymooner]

mean ! max v. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc) - tltl series

"all you are is mean. and a liar. and pathetic."

summary: sylvie hearth and max verstappen didn't think that their friendship would come to the point where one of them would be attending a court hearing and earning money out of it. they also didn't think they'd come to the point where their friendship shifted into something more than "friendly." (1)(2)(3)(4)(5)(6)

content warning: literally blurb/filler chapter, use of explicit language, brief court hearing scenario, spoiler: sylvie is getting a hot wheels shelf, shitty ex-friends, mentions bullying, defamation, protective!Toto, they're so in love and it's so apparent

note: mustang and cadillac are at it again :))) i also do not know much about where max's karting career as a child?? so forgive me if some of them are incorrect

masterlist

Sylvie Ford’s Former Racing Academy Issues an Apology Five Years After Her Expulsion, Claiming The Report of Misconduct Was False.

Red Bull Racing’s Max Verstappen Addresses Sylvie Ford’s Expulsion from Their Academy - The young driver publicly expressed his guilt for believing the false information. 

Sylvie Ford Sues Former Academy Classmates For Defamation and Emotional Distress — The Defendants Hoping to Receive $1M each for Damages in their Public Images.

2017

“This complaint was filed by Miss Tilly Hearth on February 12, 2008.”

“Yes.”

“Can you please tell us more about the complaint?”

“I don’t know much, but from what I am told, it was against me.”

“It says here that the report was made two months after Miss Hearth entered the Rotax Max Minimax class. You have been constantly teasing her about her abilities in the tracks.”

“If that’s what it says there,” Matt Bauer’s face remained impassive as he continued to look straight ahead.

“Looking at the records, it’s almost as if there is a report filed against you, Mr. Elias Whittaker and Mr. James Hudson every other month for the same reason from the same person— which is bullying,” Sylvie’s lawyer, Alicia, said.

“Objection,” the man’s attorney said from their table, “argumentative.”

“It’s not, Attorney Peterson,” the judge said, “Attorney Mason is simply stating the reports’ reasoning. Unless you missed something while you’re reading the evidence?”

Sylvie sighed quietly, her chin resting against the table while listening. Her other lawyer, Kim Halloway, sat next to her. The man nudged her side lightly, making her tilt her head in his direction before shooting him a smile.

She was getting bored of the hearing. But now that she thought of it, Aimee and Stevie were feeling that way somewhere in the back room.

This was way worse than Legally Blonde if you were to ask any of them. But then again, the Hearth sisters never really expected to find themselves in the court at this early stage of their adulthood.

It was already 2017, and what was a better way to start the year than to find out that your sister was bullied and kicked out of the academy without your knowledge? Not even their mother knew what happened, just that she left the class and continued her education.

Sylvie was headstrong, and she never backed out of a challenge. After each time her sister Tilly reported what she saw, Sylvie merely shrugged it off. She ignored the boys’ behaviour so much that she couldn’t face the consequences of her mental health.

Her family had been disappointed, of course, because why would she hide it away? She would’ve gotten the help that she needed. But the disappointment didn’t last long. Instead, they all started to find a way to speed up the process of the hearing— finding the best lawyers in England and getting each evidence to support her case.

And when Max Verstappen promised he’d be there for her, he never lied. He spent his Christmas with Sylvie and her family as they worked together on stating the case and essential details. Max decided not to spend his time with Dad, just telling him he’ll spend his time in England with Lando. Victoria had flown in to spend the holiday with him and their mother, Sophie, but left after.

He spent so much time with her that he nearly pissed himself whenever Toto visited the estate with Tilly and their son. Toto still didn’t like Max, and it was apparent. Was it because he was a Red Bull driver, or was it because he was a boy who was acting way friendly with Toto’s sister-in-law? Max really couldn’t tell. Looking at the Austrian man who would immediately turn his way was hard.

Regardless, Max remained there. By the third day of the hearing, he was brought up to provide his testimony. He gave them everything that needed to be heard, including how his “friends” manipulated him and how he felt so guilty about not finding out sooner.

And speaking of friends, Matt Bauer and the other two tried reaching out to Max, but the Dutchman didn’t have it. He never looked in their direction whenever they were outside the court, only keeping Sylvie close as they walked out of the courtroom.

So yes, this was more boring than Legally Blonde. Because Max wasn’t there as he finished his duty and nobody could sass her beside him. This wasn’t the kind of hearing she wanted. She really wanted him to chat shit.

She might text him after this.

The lawsuit hearing ended when the jury decided that Sylvie Hearth won her case. Therefore, she was receiving £1.5 million from the three men. Of course, they were outraged, but it was their fault that they had acted like fools. They couldn’t use the “boys will be boys” as an excuse because they all knew that even Max and their other racing friends wouldn’t do something as stupid as falsely exposing their only female counterpart, who had been kind and honest to them.

Hearing his phone going off, Max Verstappen peered down at his screen and found Sylvie’s childhood photo and her specific ringtone displayed. He excused himself from his father, who had asked him where he was going. He merely waved off Jos, going outside to answer the call.

“Hello,” he greeted her. He really should have worn earplugs.

“MAX EMILIAN!” Sylvie screamed through the other side of the call, “WE WON BITCH!”

“YAY!” Max nearly jumped up and down in joy as his smile widened. “You won!”

“I’m a million and a half pounds richer, Max!” She cackled hysterically, “They’re paying me a million and a half!”

“Look at you!” He exclaimed, “And I thought Christian’s paying you well this year.”

“A million and a half…” she muttered quietly before saying, “You know what that means, Max?”

“What?”

“WE CAN GET A CUSTOM HOT WHEELS SHELF FOR MY FLAT!” Sylvie squealed in excitement. Max could hear the kicking of her feet from the other end. “Max! My collection’s going to be displayed!”

Max only laughed at her excitement. He definitely missed her. This Sylvie, he meant. He missed Sylvie, who would get excited over any ordeal. It could be her podium win or the downfall of their enemy— he didn’t care; he missed Sylvie like this. God, the things he would do to see her giddy face.

Maybe it was terrible for him to laugh at his ex-friends’ demise, but it wasn’t that bad if Sylvie got the last laugh. Perhaps next time, they shouldn’t treat anyone like that again— they’d still be able to keep half a million pounds in their bank account if they decided to do so.

#formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #formula one imagine #formula one x oc #formula one smau #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #red bull racing imagine #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #formula one x reader #formula one hurt/comfort #formula 1 #formula one fluff #f1 x reader #f1 fiction #f1 fluff #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #max verstappen fluff #red bull racing #rbr

[qqueenofhades]

Just wondering your thoughts about the GOP 2024 nomination. Common wisdom seems to view Trump as the inevitable heir apparent for obvious reasons like poll numbers and De Santis tanking (as anyone outside the conservative bubble probably could have seen coming once a breathing human who was undecided actually met him on the campaign trail).

But I feel these assessments are missing the inherent chaos of real life. Trump could very well get indicted and struggle to run anything close to the 2016 campaign or run at all if in theory he’s in jail or otherwise disqualified. He’s in his late 70s, he could genuinely just die of any number of health issues before then. This “foregone conclusion” seems somewhat naive to me.

Really, the GOP was screwed when they didn’t turn on him on January 7th. The nation would have been with them as much as it would ever be, they could have harnessed that outrage to peel off all but the most fanatical cultists, and they could have started looking into building up new candidates. Trump was always going to tear down anyone who competed with his spotlight and he’s more vicious to former allies than to enemies. Now they risk losing any promising candidates to his vitriol AND something could happen where he ends up not even being able to run.

I mean don’t get me wrong, I’ll be overjoyed if they fall apart in 2024. And even if he is the nominee and squeaks out of all the court cases with his liberty and reputation intact, I think Trump is toast with independent and undecided voters (people forget how many votes he picked up in 2016 just being a new thing with no record to point to, he refused to get pinned down on any issue, so people figured they’d take a chance on the new thing over Hillary but now he’s got a record and can’t just say he would have done the opposite on anything that went wrong in the past). He couldn’t win while he was the incumbent. He’s a weak candidate.

Anyway, just curious about your thoughts. Am I the only one who thinks the GOP is naive or aware and screwed when it comes to their 2024 nominee?

Welp. There are a lot of things going on here. It goes without saying that they are all a flaming dumpster fire of absolute squalid seditionist anti-democratic bullshit, because that's literally all the Republican party is these days. So, you know. Cheerful!

First, barring him literally keeling over and dying before November 2024 (oh please oh please oh please), Trump WILL be the Republican nominee, even if he is actively in the process of being convicted/has been convicted and is trying to appeal to every court he can possibly think of (since as noted before, he will do his DAMNDEST to get them all to his pet SCOTUS under the flailing hope that they will exonerate him). I think there's still a certain amount of denial about this: the hope that because we are all so sick and tired of dealing with the orange psychopath and his Nazis, that he will just finally fucking DISAPPEAR and not force us to go through another election with him. Unfortunately, this isn't going to happen. The entire crumbling skeleton and gasping oxygen of the once-vaunted GOP is sucked up by Trump. The people theoretically running against him, aside from Chris Christie (who was a Trump sycophant until he wasn't) won't even mention THAT HE IS UNDER MULTIPLE STATE AND FEDERAL INDICTMENTS FOR TREASON-LEVEL CRIMES. You'd think that would be great for an opposition candidate! But since the only way they can win the primary is by getting enough of Trump's insane fans to vote for them, they're walking an impossible tightrope of not being Trump but still also trying to be Trump. Vote for them, please! They promise they can be just as heinous!

Now, the establishment GOP, or what's left of it, is perfectly well aware that Trump is a treasonous loser and a massive electoral liability, but they can't say so because of the same problem of Trump's rabid masses turning on them. See all these accounts of Republicans being plenty brave in private when it comes to criticizing him, but in public: crickets. They know that they've lost every election since 2016, when Trump became the leader of their party, but they also can't stop the insane GOP primary voters, still drunk on that Orange Trump Kool-Aid, from renominating him. As I said in a recent post, there is about 35% of this country that is just, as of now, totally beyond help. They love Trump and only Trump, he's the manifestation of the absolute worst of all their racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, etc. impulses, and they love him more the more awful he is (and the more "Joe Biden's Mean Evil Government!!!" punishes him, in true martyr fashion). There's no helping them. They WILL vote for him no matter what, and there's no way, as it currently stands, that any other GOP candidate has a prayer of getting past him. DeSantis was once hyped as the Alternative to Trump, but the instant actual people get a single look at him, they're repulsed. He's fucked.

Basically, the Republican party, as in the career elected officials, are well aware that Trump is a deadweight loser, but there's no getting out of the trap they've created for themselves. They KNOW perfectly well that Trump is a weak candidate and a perennial loser, but they can't stop their self-created monster of the radicalized Republican electorate from putting him in there again. Their entire toxic self-sustaining right-wing media ecosystem has been churning out lies for decades, that has only kicked into overdrive in the Trump era, and there is nothing they can do about it, because they're craven miserable anti-democratic power-hungry shitstains who will say or do anything to cling out a scrap of influence and money for just a little longer, and their whole platform now consists of being outrageously cruel to other people. Couldn't happen to a nicer bunch of Nazis, etc. Witness them all vigorously condemning Trump in various interviews (looking at you, Bill Barr) and then either admitting they'll vote for him if he's the 2024 GOP nominee, or cowardly ducking the question. Because... they themselves will vote for him, so it's no wonder the primary voters will do the same. As long as he puts in more religious zealot judges and destroys everything the Democrats are trying to do, they're cool! Democracy? Don't know her. They're over it. See the Wisconsin GOP already running their mouths about trying to impeach state Supreme Court justice Janet Protasiewicz, elected in a landslide in spring, if she does anything to overrule their insane gerrymanders. They're all just as bad.

So in short, yes: they may very well screw themselves into a situation where Trump is totally unviable for 2024 AND there's nobody else they can have to replace him, because that is the devil's bargain they have made. They've all sold their souls. Trump will insist he's running until the very last moment, because it's his final gamble to keep himself out of a hefty prison sentence and the one thing he has escaped for his entire misbegotten existence: i.e., real consequences for his terrible actions (as like any good sociopath, he has no concept of those and they all seem outrageously unfair). If they were going to ever actually do anything about Trump, that was a long, long time ago. Now they're stuck with him, they're too cowardly to denounce him, they're left hoping that Jack Smith and the indictments will eventually take him off their hands, but in the meantime, to save their own necks, they fundraise and whip up public outrage and tell endless lies about how Trump is such a blameless martyr. So yeah. They're fucked, they've made themselves fucked, and they're awful and they deserve it. Etc. etc. never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake. Fuck 'em all.

#avelera #ask #politics for ts #the giant orange monster

[scary-grace]

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 20) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21

Chapter 20

“Sorry about the clothes,” Spinner says as the two of you walk down the front steps of the hospital. “Himiko picked them out.”

“It’s fine,” you say. As long as you have clothes that aren’t bloodstained and torn to pieces, you don’t care what you look like. You’re just glad to be headed home.

Nobody exited the near-apocalyptic conjurer fight in good shape, but some of you were worse off than the others. Nemuri was almost blasted apart trying to defeat the giant, and although she survived it, collecting the shreds of her essence back together is apparently a slow process. Keigo took a pretty sizeable hit protecting the kids, while Aizawa had to deal with a beastlike Nomu chewing the hell out of his leg before Hizashi blew its head off. But you and Tomura were by far the worse off. You’ve been in the hospital for two days. Tomura will be in for another three at least.

Most ghosts are healthy when they permanently embody themselves, but apparently it’s different for ghosts who use their own conjurers to do it. Tomura is starvation-level thin, with severe contact allergies to almost every type of medical equipment in the hospital, and the injuries he got from the fight and the rescue from the world between were bad enough to land him in the ICU at least temporarily. They had to put him in an induced coma, too. He’s had meltdowns or panic attacks or some kind of fit every time he’s woken up.

“He’ll bounce back quickly,” Mr. Yagi assured you when he came to visit. “I did.”

That was how you learned that Mr. Yagi embodied himself from his conjurer, too – except she gave him permission to do it, when she realized she was going to die of cancer anyway. Mr. Yagi’s permanent embodiment involves chronic issues with his lungs and his stomach, all of which you’re familiar with after working as his assistant for years. Chronic, but manageable. Sometimes over the past two days, it’s seemed like Tomura’s allergic to the entire human world.

Spinner told you that permanent embodiment creates complications, but you didn’t realize just how severe those complications would be. There’s no legal record of Tomura’s existence. He doesn’t have ID or health records or health insurance. There’s no next of kin who’s empowered to make decisions for him while he’s under heavy sedation, dead to the world. Hizashi’s working overtime to forge some kind of documentation for him. The doctors have been hinting that they won’t release him without it. Legally, you don’t have any right to be involved in or updated on Tomura’s medical condition, but he managed to identify you as somebody important before he went under, which means you get a little more information than you would have gotten otherwise. The doctors have been referring to you as his girlfriend. Apparently he called you his human.

Tomura might not have a next of kin, you do, and the doctors called your parents when you were too doped up on painkillers to stop them. You managed to talk them down from coming to visit, mostly by lying and then promising that they can come visit you soon. The last thing you need is for them to come here right now. Things are too chaotic. It’s hard to think that anything normal will ever happen again.

Like today. Jin and Spinner are picking you up from the hospital and driving you home to a house that, for the first time since it was built, doesn’t have a ghost in it.

When you and Spinner make it down the steps, Jin’s idling the van near the curb with Atsuhiro snoozing in the back row. Jin bursts out laughing at the sight of you, ignoring Spinner hissing at him to shut up. “No wonder Himiko wouldn’t let me see what she picked! Ready to get out of here?”

“Yes.” That’s not quite true, though. The sharp pain in your chest as the hospital vanishes around a curve in the highway tells you that you’d rather have stayed until Tomura could come with you.

You’ve been there, the few times they’ve tried waking him up. He’s promptly freaked out each time, and while your presence settles him a bit, the fact that he’s now in a human body, experiencing the world as a human does, is way more than you can calm him down from. Luckily for you and Tomura, the embodied ghosts stepped in to help. Since last night, there’s been one of them stationed in his room at all times, ready to corral him, ready to explain, so nothing else in his hospital room goes up in dust. Tomura lost a lot of his ghostly powers, but he’s still got more than enough left to raise hell.

You don’t want to leave him there. You want to stay there until he wakes up for good, and not leave until you can bring him home. But your health insurance won’t pay for more than the two nights you already spent in the hospital, and you have a bad feeling about who’s going to be on the hook for Tomura’s hospital bill. You have to go home. You’ll be back to visit tomorrow after work, but tonight you have to go home.

“How did he look?” Spinner asks Jin. Spinner came to get you, while Jin brought Magne for her shift in Tomura’s room. “You saw him, right?”

“He looks like hell.”

“He looks like he’s looked the entire time,” Atsuhiro says sleepily from the back row. Then, to you: “They mentioned removing the feeding tube in two days. His body is burning calories rapidly, and if he doesn’t have enough in reserve, he’ll have a heart attack when he starts moving around.”

“Great,” you mumble. “Did he wake up at all?”

“Not perceptibly to the staff,” Atsuhiro says. Ghost stuff. Again. “I was able to tell him that you were being released today.”

You sort of wish Atsuhiro hadn’t done that. Tomura’s going to think you’re leaving him, and based on the conversation you had the day before things went to hell, he didn’t want to embody himself for anything less than a sure thing. You’re a sure thing. About as sure as it gets, given that you were ready to get sucked into the world between along with him rather than let him go. But he’s not going to know that until the two of you talk. And you can’t talk to him while he’s got a feeding tube down his throat.

When you left the neighborhood three nights ago, you left it in the back of an ambulance, so you didn’t get a good look at everything that happened. Now it’s daylight, and what you see isn’t pretty. A weird fog still hovers over everything. Almost every plant on the block is dead, courtesy of being flash-frozen a dozen times over, and the pavement and asphalt on your end of the street is pitted and ruptured and cracked, courtesy of the giant. Nobody’s house escaped getting knocked around a bit, but you know yours took the largest amount of damage – window smashed, porch roof caved in, fence down, yard chewed to bits – so when you get out of the car and make your way closer for a look, you’re expecting the worst.

What you’re not expecting to see is a new fence, in the process of being painted greyish blue. You’re not expecting to see Himiko and a girl you vaguely remember meeting at her birthday party painting it. And you’re definitely not expecting Izuku to pop out of absolutely nowhere, hands smeared with dirt. “Hey, you’re back! Are you okay?”

He waits long enough for you to confirm you’re not about to keel over, then pivots. “Tell me everything that happened.”

“We already told you what happened,” Spinner says. “Don’t bug her.”

“You did tell me! It was great,” Izuku says. He refocuses on you. “But you spent the most time with the conjurer, didn’t you? And you got away from him! How did you do it?”

It occurs to you, sort of suddenly, that you haven’t told anybody exactly what happened. Everybody’s clear on the important details – kidnapped by conjurer, tortured by conjurer with the intent of Nomufication, escaped, rescued by what Jin inexplicably decided to call the Vanguard Action Squad. Nobody’s asked you more until you right now. And you should probably tell somebody, just to get it on the record. “Um, it was –”

“Izuku! Leave her be,” Inko scolds, stepping out onto your front porch. You should have guessed that at least one of Izuku’s parents would be present, but you’re still surprised to see her. “I’m sorry to startle you. We were hoping to be gone by the time you got back so you’d have a quiet house.”

A quiet house. A house without Tomura in it. “It’s okay. Um – why are you here?”

“We’re helping patch things up,” Izuku says. “I’m filling in the footprints in the yard – Toga says there was a huge Nomu here – like, building-sized –”

“Bigger,” Himiko says. She looks over at the other girl, who looks worried. “I didn’t fight that one. I did lots of other fighting.”

“And Toga and Uraraka are fixing the fence,” Izuku continues. You forgot that Himiko picked out a different last name than Jin’s when she embodied herself. You’re not sure why. “Mom was keeping an eye on the guys who came to fix the window and the roof and Dad and Kacchan are in the backyard clearing out your dead plants! There are a lot of them. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do it.” You step through the gate, barely avoiding putting your hand in wet paint. “The fence looks really nice, Himiko. You guys didn’t have to do this.”

“The old fence matched Tomura’s new hair. We had to fix it,” Himiko explains. “Now it matches his old hair.”

“He has new hair?” Uraraka asks.

“Yeah, it’s white now. He looks like an anime villain,” Spinner says, and Himiko giggles. “I didn’t know your fence was supposed to match your hair.”

“It’s not. That’s why we’re fixing it.”

“Thank you,” you say to Himiko and her friend. “And – thanks, Izuku. I’ll tell you about all the stuff later.”

He beams at you, then goes back to filling in a massive hole in your yard. You thank Spinner and Jin for the ride home, and Atsuhiro for sitting with Tomura, then make your way into your house. The last time you were here, you could barely walk. You were oozing blood everywhere and you were in agony, but you remember seeing Tomura on the porch and stumbling into his arms and feeling for just a moment like everything would be okay. Everything is okay. But just like Aizawa said of you being turned into a Nomu, this came at a cost – and you weren’t the one to pay.

There are a few bloodstains on the front porch steps. You collect some varnish from your hall closet and come back out to paint them over.

“My dear.” Mr. Yagi’s feet appear in your field of vision and you look up at him. He looks miserable, his mouth trembling. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“You were taken from the parking lot. I knew the conjurer could be near. I knew you were in danger. And instead of ensuring your safety I allowed you to –”

“You weren’t responsible for my safety. I was,” you say. You’re pretty sure nothing could have stopped the conjurer. If he hadn’t grabbed you from the parking lot before work, he would have grabbed you when you went outside on your lunch break or when you headed home. “The bracelets you gave me helped me get away from him. I wouldn’t have escaped without them.”

Mr. Yagi looks surprised. “Is that so?”

“When he noticed them, he broke one. It released all this energy and threw him across the room. That’s how I got out. And me and the ghost who helped me escape used the other one to blow up the building we were in.”

“My master must have known he would break them,” Mr. Yagi says. He smiles slightly, sadly. “She was a master tactician. And speaking of her – I suppose it’s no longer relevant, but I brought over the notes Izuku and I took from her journals, if you’d still like to read them.”

“I’d like to.” You’ll need something to do tonight, when you’re here all alone for the first time. “Thank you.”

The two of you sit together on the steps until the varnish dries and the smell of food begins to drift out of the kitchen. You go to investigate and find that Inko’s turned your kitchen into some kind of industrial cooking facility. “This is for tonight,” she says, gesturing to a pot simmering on your stove. “I’ve made things for the next four days also. The list on the counter is a list of common food sensitivities, in case Tomura picked up anything during his embodiment. And if you have any questions about anything, please call me.”

You feel a lump growing in your throat, making it hard to swallow. “I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“You wouldn’t,” Inko says. She smiles at you. “I would have liked someone to talk to, when it was me.”

You nod a few times, manage to thank her. Then you excuse yourself to the bathroom, so she won’t see you struggling not to cry.

You’re not sure why you’re so miserable, why it’s so hard for you to hold it together as everyone heads home for the evening. The only thing that helps even slightly is when Phantom comes home, brought over by Shinsou and Hizashi, who’ve been keeping an eye on her for you. She’s so happy to see you that she leaps a full three feet off the ground and knocks you over, which hurts. You hug her close even though you can tell she’s dying to zoom ecstatically around the house and look up at Shinsou and Hizashi from the floor. “Thanks for looking out for her. I owe you.”

“That’s the closest I’m gonna get to getting a dog until I move out. It’s great,” Shinsou says. Aizawa and Eri are committed cat people, but Shinsou’s said multiple times that he likes both. “So you got out of the hospital. Are you, like – good?”

“Great,” you say. It’s a good thing you and Shinsou aren’t ghosts, because if you were, you wouldn’t have a prayer of getting away with the lie. “It’s nice to be home.”

Hizashi nods impatiently as you pick yourself up off the ground and Phantom goes tearing off to inspect the house, Shinsou in hot pursuit. He has a folder tucked under one arm, and he holds it out to you. “Here. ID and birth certificate for him. I’m working on the rest.”

The ID is right on top, complete with a photo. “How’d you get a photo of him?”

“Took it in the hospital. Fixing the background and photoshopping his eyes open was a bitch.” Hizashi looks pretty proud of himself anyway. “I made him the same age as you. He looks it at least. The birthday is an approximation of his summoning date. I couldn’t use his embodiment date. I didn’t want the doctors asking too many questions about how he had the worst birthday ever.”

“Thanks.” You inspect everything a little closer, then nearly drop the folder in shock. “Shigaraki Tomura? You gave him his conjurer’s last name?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else,” Hizashi says. “It flows pretty nicely, right?”

You guess it does, except for the part where you’re going to think of the conjurer every time you use Tomura’s new full name. “Thank you,” you say again, uselessly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t helped.”

Hizashi looks as uncomfortable being thanked by you as you are doing the thanking. “Don’t worry about it. His shit’s a lot easier to forge than the Nomus’.”

Shinsou and Hizashi stick around for a little longer, checking out the repairs and marveling at all the food Inko cooked, then head home. You shut and lock the door behind them, and all at once you’re home alone. Just you and Phantom, like you thought it would be when you bought this place. Phantom is wandering from room to room, greeting you when she passes by but very much looking for something. Looking for Tomura.

“He’ll be home soon,” you promise her. She knows who you’re talking about. She whines. “I miss him, too.”

You feel aimless, and you feel sick. You should probably eat something. You fill a bowl from the pot Inko left on the stove and settle in on the couch to pick at it, staring at nothing if you’re not looking into the bowl itself. It tastes good, but you’ve got no desire to eat it. You eat it anyway. If you’re going to be miserable no matter what, you might as well do it on a full stomach.

Part of you thinks it’s normal to feel wrecked after everything that’s happened. You were kidnapped and tortured. You watched your ghost die in front of you nineteen times. You almost got force-fed a ghost and almost turned into a Nomu and almost watched your house be destroyed and almost killed somebody and almost lost your ghost to the world between. Only a crazy person wouldn’t be upset. But at the same time, it’s a whole lot of almost. It could have been so much worse. It almost was. What is there for you to be upset about?

Your phone rings and you pick it up just for somebody to talk to. It’s your mom. “When I called the hospital they said you’d been discharged today. Why didn’t you call?”

“It’s been a lot. I just got home.” It’s probably not good that your default is to lie to her. “Everything’s fine.”

“Everything isn’t,” your mom says severely. “I raised you. I know you. Even over the phone, I know that tone in your voice.”

“How do you know me, Mom? We barely talk. We barely talked even when I was a kid.” You shouldn’t say this. Now’s not the right time to say this, but you’ve started, and you can’t stop yourself. “Everything’s not fine, and I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you. Not with anybody! The only person I want to talk to about it is Tomura, and he’s –”

In the hospital, in an induced coma, with a feeding tube down his throat that they won’t remove for two more days. Your own throat closes up, and your mom is silent on her end of the line. You brace yourself for her to blow up at you, to talk about how you never let her in, how the distance between the two of you is your fault. Instead: “You must be really worried about Tomura,” she says. “How is he doing?”

“He’s – they think he’ll be out in three days,” you say haltingly. “It’s – it’s worse for him than it was for me. I was healthier to start with. But they said he’ll be home in three days.”

“Are you going to visit him tomorrow?”

“I want to,” you say. “I have to go back to work, too. My boss said he’d give me as much time as I need, but I need to save it for when Tomura’s home.”

“When he’s home,” your mother repeats. “You live together?”

Oops. “Yeah. For a while now.”

“So it’s serious.”

“As serious as it gets,” you say. For a moment you’re overwhelmed by the memory of clinging to his hand as the world between dragged him in, refusing to let go even if it meant you’d be pulled in, too. “I’m – this is it for me, Mom. He’s it. I’m not leaving him.”

“I would never ask you to leave him,” your mom says, surprised. You shouldn’t have said that, should have known that the weight behind it wouldn’t make sense to her. “I’m looking forward to meeting him, once the two of you have recovered from all of this. You still haven’t told me what happened.”

You haven’t told anyone. “It’s hard to explain,” you say. Your phone begins to beep again, signaling an incoming call, and your stomach lurches when you see Magne’s caller ID. “I’m getting a call from the hospital. I have to go. Sorry –”

“Go,” your mom says immediately. “I’ll call back later. I love you.”

You manage to mumble that you love her too, then end the call and accept Magne’s. “What’s happening? Is he okay?”

You hear Magne speaking to someone else, but you can’t hear what she’s saying, and then her voice is there again, right in your ear. “Tomura’s awake,” she says. “They’re trying to sedate him again, but he’s a little upset. You can imagine.”

You can imagine. “Can I talk to him?”

“That’s why I called you, honey.” Magne puts you on speaker, and you hear her voice from a distance. “You’re right by his ear. Go ahead.”

“Tomura,” you say, and you hear a strangled sound. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. Nobody there wants to hurt you. They’re just trying to help.”

You imagine him arguing that it hurts anyway. Probably also that it’s not helping, and he still feels like hell. “The sooner you get through this, the sooner you can come home,” you tell him. “That’s where I am right now. Me and Phantom are waiting for you. We’ll be here when you get back. Three days, right?”

“Right,” a doctor confirms from somewhere in the offing. “The wounds are healing well. The nutritional deficiencies are the main concern now.”

“You’ll be home soon,” you promise. “I’ll come visit you tomorrow.”

He’d be protesting if he could talk. Probably saying that he’ll be asleep tomorrow if he lets them sedate him again. “I’ll be there,” you say. “You’re fun to hang out with even when you’re asleep.”

You wonder if he’ll hear what you’re calling back to – all those months ago, when you were trying to keep him out of your bedroom at night. “I love you. I’ll be there tomorrow. Tomura –”

“He’s out,” Magne tells you. She laughs quietly. “We all knew you had him wrapped around your finger, but it’s really something to see in action.”

You close your eyes. “Thanks for sitting with him. It would be harder if you weren’t.”

Magne says something about how it’s not a problem, even though it is, and you thank her again and hang up the phone. You wish you were there with Tomura in the hospital. Even if you can’t talk to him, you can hold his hand. You could get used to the warmth of his skin and the new rhythm of his pulse and the sight of his white hair, before he comes home to you for good. You finish your soup and lift Phantom into your lap. She was with you at the start of all this, before all of this. She’s the only thing right now that feels like home. She lets you hug her and licks your face a few times, and for some stupid reason, that’s when you start to cry.

#lovhalloweenhorror #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #x reader #reader insert #shigaraki tomura #ghost story #loser nerd ghost boyfriend

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not bothering my sibling about money? So bit of background- when my sibling (I'll call them B) and I moved in together we split up who would be paying what bills (and then we would pay each other our half). It ended up being that since I at the time had the better paying job, I would pay rent and when we went grocery shopping together, and B would handle the utility bills like internet/water/gas/ect. Now even though our rent doesn't change, B won't pay me their half unless I write the amount up on the kitchen whiteboard alongside where I write what they owe for groceries. Which, okay, it is the agreed upon system and isn't too much more of a hassle besides the fact that they usually end up paying late but that is a different issue.

The problem comes in when it comes to letting me know how much I owe for my half of the utilities. I have had in the past to pester them frequently about letting me know how much the bills were, and often I can tell from the amount that they didn't include the internet. Which gets billed at a different time in the month and thus requires a bit more work on their part apparently to find the amount and add it in. B's response to this in the past was "Oh, just pay me what you did before for that" which a) umm, previously it was lumped into the general utilities amount so I don't have a specific record of how much and b) our internet bill does actually differ some months soo....

Present day: B has a job that while doesn't pay great is enough to live on, while I currently am unemployed due to health issues so am trying to manage living off savings. Trying to juggle everything going on right now has me generally pretty low on spoons so the thought of trying to find out what I owe B for all the utilities and the couple times we order delivery through their account, only for them to get mad at me for bothering them, is too much at times. Plus admittedly, it really helps me if I have to pay less towards food/utilities so not exactly motivation there.

So, AITA for only paying B specifically what they let me know I owe, even when I know it isn't the whole amount but they can't be bothered to add it up?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[theprogrockbstheorist]

BS Theory no. 2: The “Dark Side of the Moon” is Society™️

“There is no dark side of he moon really. Matter of fact, it’s all dark”

Hey guys, I am back from my essay-writing hiatus, as I’ve recently had the time to have some Ideas circulating in my brain. One of the things I’ve been thinking about, and been able to formulate into something semi-comprehensible, is on the matter of Pink Floyd’s seminal work, the 1973 album Dark Side of the Moon. This album is far from being a niche, obscure album: it’s one of the best selling records of all time, and you have more than likely seen the album cover on t-shirts, posters, pins, stickers, or referenced in other media. The album kicks of what I will refer to the “main sequence” in Pink Floyd’s discography, which consists of their 4-best selling albums: DSOTM, Wish You Were Here, Animals (underrated tbh), and The Wall. All of these are indeed concept albums to varying degrees, with most being a Level Two Concept Album, and The Wall generally being classified as a rock opera (Level 3). With this in mind, Dark Side of the Moon most people would likely classify this album as a Level One, due to only a musical concept being present (all the songs flow into each other, and the album loops back on itself), however I argue that it is a Level Two due to there being multiple thematic concepts that may not be immediately apparent: society’s affect on mental health due to modern lifestyles. 

I won’t go into too much background on the band itself, as they’re one of the most popular bands in the prog fandom, to the point where it could be argued that they are their own fandom (they even have their own confessions blog), just that they were formed in the mid-1960s, and had a substantial psychedelic rock/pop following before this album’s debut. I will note that the theme of mental illness has been greatly present in many of their works, as one of their former members, Roger "Syd" Barrett, suffered through an undisclosed mental health episode, which had him leave the band. As this is the case, it is not much of a stretch to assume that this work deals heavily with mental health issues as well. 

One of the theories suggested, by Drew and Destin of the Prog Notes podcast (which I HIGHLY recommend) is that the album’s thematic concept is about all the different things in life that can cause a person mental stress. This theory begins with “On the Run”, as they suggest the first two songs are about beginning life. The theory proposes that “on the Run” is about the fear or anxiety of trave and moving on, “Time” is about… time, or rather realizing that one’s time is limited, “the Great Gig in the Sky” is about death anxiety, “Money” is about financial and material concerns, “Us and Them” is about conflict, and the last two songs “Brain Damage” and “Eclipse” are about finally breaking under the pressure of modern life. This would mean that the “dark side of the moon” referenced in the title could be all the downsides to modern life that are too taboo to talk about, or are perhaps hidden from public consciousness. 

Honestly, I agree with their interpretation of the album. I do think, however, there’s some loose ends that need to be tied up with their series. For example, if their interpretation is the case, why would Pink Floyd have the album loop back on itself? What’s the symbolism of the heart beat pulse? Why do all the songs flow into each other? How do these things enhance the themes of the album? Why did Pink Floyd specifically choose these common anxieties (travel, time, death, money, and conflict)? 

Let’s address each of these questions individually: 

The case of the album loop:

Following the interpretation that the album is about society and the taboo of mental health related to common stressors, the album looping back on itself could symbolize one of two things. One could be the metal health cycle of relapse-breakdown-recovery, until one slowly spirals or until they finally reach a state of recovery. The other could be that this is something that happens to multiple people as a result of system we live in. People get broken down by their insecurities, by fear and anxiety and hate, and there’s no clear answer to stop it. This could also be tied into the heart-beat pulse that can be heard both at the very beginning of the album, and at the end, which could represent all the people being born and living out their lives under these stressors. 

The flow:

As commonly noted about the album, each song flows into each other so well that the album often feels like one long song. This could represent the way stress about one area of your life can impact all the others: anxiety about time, for example, could impact the way one views their own mortality, the way they feel about travel, the way they feel about financial concerns, and the way they feel about conflict. Simply put, most of the time, when a person is stressed about something, it causes them to be more easily upset and stressed by other things as well, causing a cycle. 

Common Anxieties:

As for why these common fears and stressors were chosen can be left up for debate. The most likely reason, in my opinion, is because they’re endemic to the human experience in modern society. Almost everyone has been stressed, in one way or another, about moving on and change, about the passage of time, about their own mortality and what happens when we die, about financial security and greed, and about conflict. These are the things that can cause people to go, as the album states, “mad”. 

So, what is the “dark side of the moon”? Is it all dark? The “dark side” referred to in the album’s title (and the quote played at the very end of the album) refers to all the things that stress people out in modern society that we keep hidden from each other, just how the view of the far side of the moon is hidden from view from the Earth. The moon, in a lot of Western mythology, is associated with emotions, and the “dark side” could be associated with negative emotions. As for it being “all dark”, that’s a question that one has to answer for oneself. Either way, when viewed through this lens, Dark Side of the Moon’s meaning becomes apparent, and remains insightful commentary about the world we live in. (also, for Prog Notes, you can find them on Spotify and apple Podcast for sure! You’d have to check about other streaming services though!)

#prog rock #progressive rock #prog #concept albums #pink floyd #dark side of the moon

[canary0]

August 23 - Dracula 2023

The Diary of Mina Harker

I'm getting worried. We have been keeping a watch lately, but Lucy managed to get the crucifix down from her window in her sleep and made it out to the churchyard again. It almost goes without saying that her health has taken a turn and she's quite weak now. We've made the decision that moving forward, I should sleep in her room with her. I will miss out on time with Jonathan, and I am quite worried about him, too, given the fiend's equal interest in him, but Lucy appears to be his main target for now. Lucy herself much approved of this plan, and sweetly spoke of how it would be like sleepovers when we were just girls.

Jonathan is recovering as well after the increase in his illness the other day. He remains quite pale, though, and I worry for lingering anemia. He and Lucy look a bit similar at the moment, but Jonathan seems to be stronger... more than he used to be, if anything, which is surprising. He and Lucy are rather comparable in build, with Jonathan perhaps slightly the smaller of the two. I wonder if Mr. Morris would be willing to room with Jonathan to keep an eye on him and make sure both of the monster's interests have an eye on them?

Fortunately, Dr. Seward has been a great help with Lucy's health. He's been keeping an eye on her vitals and ensuring that she eats well for reviving her health.

Dr. Stankiewicz arrived today, and she looks a good bit different while on vacation than she did while working, with her lab coat traded in for torn jeans, and a flannel overshirt. She did bring medical equipment and, of all things, her own autoclave, which she set up in the kitchen. Fortunately, the Westenras' kitchen is quite generously sized, and the machine itself isn't huge. She quite brusquely informed us that she expected to be here on a working vacation, so she came prepared, though she didn't expect two people. I was a little put out - both of them had been very careful, but fate had put them in the wrong place at the wrong time. She smiled at that, though, and told me she knew, and that neither was in any way at fault for their situations. We would try to improve them.

She proceeded to take down everyone's blood types. Lucy is apparently AB+, which is good to learn. She can receive blood from any of us, so transfusions won't be an issue for her. Jonathan will have a bit more trouble, with B- - not exactly common, and he can't get it from just anyone.

Dr. Abraham Van Helsing arrived later that same day. Unlike Dr. Stankiewicz, he seems like quite the jovial and personable sort. He is also quite in contrast to his protege, Dr. Seward, in that way. By the time he arrived, there was only time for a late dinner, however. We will start the arduous process of going over what information we have tomorrow. Hopefully Arthur will be able to make it soon. I will be arranging the physical records during the meeting tomorrow and starting a file on everything we have.

God willing, we and the three doctors together will be able to make some sense out of everything going on.

---

The Diary of Jack Seward

Woken in the middle of the night by a report from the hospital. Apparently more strange behavior from Renfield. Apparently he became quite agitated around sundown, yelling and seemingly trying to shake the bars on the window, immobile though they are. "That's it! It's you!" He was yelling out according the the nurse's report.

She moved to the window to try and see what he was yelling at, but all she could see outside was an unusually large bat. She apparently did call animal control to report a potential invasive species appearance, but there wasn't much else she could do. Renfield remained upset, but he was not a danger to himself or others, it seemed, so he was allowed to express his piece. Eventually, after roughly 45 minutes of terrified ranting, he calmed, seeming to exhaust himself.

I'm concerned about this new change in him. I've given orders for the therapist to speak with him about it tomorrow. Hopefully we'll find out more.

#dracula daily #dracula 2023 #fanfic #jonathan harker #modern retelling #lucy westenra #mina harker #jack seward #quincey morris #abraham van helsing #renfield

[ramblingguy54]

     There’s a lot to be said, regarding how Thanks To Them handled what it managed to do in under almost an hour quite well, but what I specifically want to focus on is the colossal amount of emotional weight it gave in-depth for Luz & Camila’s relationship because holy shit it was great, overall. In the past, I’ve seen posts here and there attempt to slam Camila as a parent calling her irresponsible or outright manipulative in the way she wanted to balance Luz’s creativity or that knee jerk reaction at Yesterday’s Lie concluding on a somber conversation between these two. Some were quick to peg Camila as being dismissing of her daughter choosing to stay on the Boiling Isles, when in reality she was merely concerned for Luz’s safety and not to mention questioning her abilities to be a competent parent in all of this, as well.

    Thanks To Them fully puts into perspective just how rough Camila has had it as a single parent. It wasn’t just losing her husband that was painful, but also the consistent berating Luz would get from onlookers passive aggressively judging her antics, which were heavily implied to have been inspired by Manny. He seems to have been apparently a very silly father figure that wanted to inspire his daughter about vibrant imagination, hence that Azura book being the last thing he gave her before passed away, due to unfortunate health issues of some kind. Honestly, I know I sound like a broken record here, but I can’t further reinforce my point enough on these impressive ways the Owl House crew managed to salvage all this insightful characterization around the Noceda family tree. It masterfully makes any moment from Luz’s creativity throughout this series run have such deeper meaning. She was trying to keep her father’s faith alive and that can be said for a lot what Luz has done through compassion.

     Went from simply loving Camila’s character to absolutely seeing myself in the way she struggles to stand up for Luz’s nature as a human being. Manny may be gone, but she doesn’t let that grief stop her from allowing Luz to live life the way her kid wants. The notion of parenthood comes in and out of my head often about how I would fair in the department of being a father. Would I make the right choices for my child? Could I prevent the same unfortunate stuff I went through not repeat for their new life? Camila was dealt an unfair hand by life and desires to give Luz a place she can call home. It’s why she sent Luz off in the first place to that camp at this story’s beginning. She never wanted Luz to do a 180 in personality, or stop having an imagination that makes her a vibrant child. Camilia’s main goal in all of this was to prevent Luz’s bullying at school from potentially increasing, the more she took her antics further.

     This in of itself portrays the issues of our education system with how it views other peoples’ learning capabilities. Attempting to put a label it all as grief for Luz’s acting out in their assignments, given Manny’s passing, is only a half truth severely exaggerated. Sure, losing her Dad had a huge profound change in Luz, but even when Manny was alive she has always done things differently. If anything, Manny’s sudden passing made Luz double down on the way she views things in general determined to stand up proudly for it, regardless of what anyone said. Luz was paying her respects to Manny, by living her life without regret. In this regard, it makes sense why Luz goes to such great lengths in trying to fix any mistake she feels accountability for whether it’s unintentionally helping Belos’ plans through time travel, regret for not coming home to Camila sooner, or Amity, Gus, and Willow being stranded from their respective reality.

    Luz’s compassionate nature is her strongest endearing trait and weakness all at once because while she is caring to others, it comes at the expense of her self-esteem. She blows any mistake big or small out of massive proportions. Part of me can’t help but think Manny’s passing plays a role in this, too. Luz is devoted to the memory her father so much that she weighs these mistakes on the grounds of, “What would my father think, if he knew about my own actions?”, and it is leading her down self-destructive tendencies. This was likely going through her mind, besides Camila’s advice about learning from mistakes.

     Luz wasn’t using fiction as a way to escape her father’s passing. It was all about keeping the memory of his own unique personality alive. To show others applying your different touch to learning about anything can pay off. It makes Luz Noceda such a compelling and endearing protagonist, in spite of how rough she has had everything in childhood to the Boiling Isles conflict currently. Luz wishes to do right by Camila & Manny’s beliefs that it consumes her with overwhelming grief. You could feel so much of it in her reluctant resolve to stay behind forever. At this point, Luz has felt like everything she has wanted ended in failure. Wanted do well in school with grades at the top of her class.

Didn’t want Camila to worry about her well being all the time.

Wanted so desperately to become of apart of the Boiling Isles and share this world with her mother acknowledging it.

Wants to live a life with no regrets, like her father wanted.

     All of this resolve has come crashing down on Luz’s determination. She can’t live a life without regret because Luz is consumed by so much of it. The only way Luz believed she could atone is by robbing herself of any true happiness. This way the karmic value of what she had blamed herself for would even out. It’s absolutely heartbreaking seeing such an optimistic kid become utterly broken by these circumstances. Luz may hate Belos, but she in turn despises herself because of being fooled by his scummy tactics to achieve his goal. Throwing everything into chaotic terror when the Collector was freed finally by King.

     Luz & Camila’s development was easily one of my favorite parts from the whole special. Thanks To Them is an all around great start to this three part series finale in general, but their emotional development was a serious stand out. This was the kind of stuff I wanted to see more of in DuckTales 2017 between Della & Louie with their chemistry and am so happy to see the concept thoroughly explored here. Loved what was shown off and can’t wait to see the last two specials in 2023. Welcome back Owl House. It’s good to see you again.

#toh spoilers #camila noceda #luz noceda #loved this special and it's all thanks to them #thanks to them #toh season 3 #there was some damn great drama in this episode #they pay offs were so worth it! #the owl house #lengthy post #my two cents

[bizarrequazar]

GJ and ZZH Updates — May 14-20

<<< previous week || all posts || following week >>>

This is part of a weekly series collecting updates from and relating to Gong Jun and Zhang Zhehan.

This post is not wholly comprehensive and is intended as an overview, links provided lead to further details. Dates are in accordance with China Standard Time, the organization is chronological. My own biases on some things are reflected here. Anything I include that is not concretely known is indicated as such, and you’re welcome to do your own research and draw your own conclusions as you see fit. Please let me know if you have any questions, comments, concerns, or additions. :)

[Glossary of names and terms] [Masterlist of my posts about the situation with Zhang Zhehan]

05-14 → A Twitter space was held briefly reviewing the Zhang Sanjian concerts and celebrating Zhang Zhehan’s birthday. [recording] [written notes]

→ It is rumored that Gong Jun started filming a new drama; very little information is known as the director is said to be very low-key. According to the rumors, it’s a crime procedural titled The Remains of the Wind (no relation to Rising with the Wind lol) based on the novel 尸案调查科, and the female lead is Sun Yi. At the time of this post nothing is officially confirmed.

→ The Go Fighting! Weibo posted two promotional photos featuring Gong Jun for episode 5, [here] and [here].

→ Hogan posted a promotional video for 520 spoken by Gong Jun. (1129 kadian) [subbed video]

→ Gong Jun made a post for Mother’s Day: “I wish mothers a happy holiday, good health and all the best!!!”

→ Tiffany & Co. posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun and Elaine Zhong.

→ The Instagram posted three photos of “Zhang Zhehan” and “Zhang Mama”.

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted fifteen photos of him from Go Fighting! episode 5. Caption: “Different choices, multiple endings, tonight at 9:00 #Go Fighting!#, guess which choice boss @ Gong Jun Simon will make?”

→ The fifth episode of Go Fighting! season 9 aired. [full episode (raw)] [GJ cut (raw)]

05-15 → Zhenguoli posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ Another Zhang Sanjian “airport sighting”, he looked significantly too short, was wearing platform shoes, and was wearing sunglasses indoors. One fan also posted a “chance encounter” photo of him on a plane (still wearing sunglasses and now not masking); QuelleVous later posted photos with measurements of the plane cabin showing that he could not have been taller than 175cm tall—the real Zhang Zhehan is 181cm.

05-16 → Gong Jun posted a promotional video for MARRSGREEN for 520. Caption: “To like, is to smile uncontrollably at them.* Happy, shy... I can't hide it.” This was reposted by MARRSGREEN. *he used “TA” as a gender neutral pronoun. Fan Observations:  -  This day was Zhang Zhehan’s lunar birthday.  -  The post was made at 10:08. 2020-10-08 was the day Zhang Zhehan got a hole in one in golf.

→ The Instagram posted eight photos of “Zhang Zhehan” at a night market, where some of the “chance encounter” photos came from.

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted twelve photos from his trip to Thailand back in February. Caption: “The sound of cicadas singing, a travel memory from the boss @ Gong Jun Simon”

05-17 → Gong Jun flew to France.

→ L’Oreal made a post announcing that Gong Jun would be appearing at the Cannes International Film Festival as their spokesperson.

→ Zhenguoli posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ The Go Fighting! Weibo posted a bonus clip from episode 5 of Gong Jun singing.

→ CAPA posted a notice asking its members to boycott the company of the comedian Li Haoshi (aka House) following a police announcement two days earlier that he is being investigated for anti-CCP comments. CAPA apparently forgot that the company is one of their own executive units—comments under the post derided them for this and for their lack of authority in the issue. The hashtag #CAPA calls for the boycott of House# got on Weibo hotsearch under other related hotsearches, with many posts making similar comments.

→ The Instagram posted a “behind the scenes” video of the concerts.

→ Tiffany & Co. tweeted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun and Elaine Zhong.

→ (Exact time unknown) Songcheng received a letter from the Shenzhen Stock Exchange requiring them to submit paperwork showing their investment income and sources in order to audit their recent increased profits. As a reminder, Songcheng is an executive unit of CAPA and has connections to the Zhang Sanjian scam.

05-18 → #GongJun trended on Twitter.

→ The Go Fighting! Weibo posted the trailer for episode 6.

→ BesTV posted two additional clips of Gong Jun from Go Fighting! episode 5, [here] and [here].

→��The fashion brand Rare posted a teaser image for their endorsement with Gong Jun that would be announced on 05-20. (1129 kadian)

→ L’OFFICIEL magazine posted a teaser video for their photoshoot with Gong Jun that would release the following day. (1129 kadian) Caption: “Gong Jun's eyebrows and eyes have a stern temperament when he is not smiling, but when he smiles, most of the alienation that seems to be there is dispelled. At 11:29 a.m. on May 19th, @ Gong Jun Simon will be there or be square.”

→ L’OFFICIEL posted a second teaser video. Caption: “He is sunny, he is humble, no matter ancient or modern, he is also leisurely and free and easy. At 11:29 am on May 19th, stay tuned for @ Gong Jun Simon.”

→ Zhenguoli posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ L’Oreal posted six photos of Gong Jun arriving in Cannes.

→ Tiffany & Co. tweeted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ A photographer posted two photos of Gong Jun from his pre-red carpet photoshoot.

05-19 → Gong Jun walked the red carpet for the Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny premiere at the Cannes International Film Festival, wearing a custom embroidered suit by Jason Wu. [livestream clip] A number of fashion news publications later included him in articles about the event: [Deadline] [Vogue] [RCFA]

→ #GongJun, #SimonGong, #龚俊Simon, and #GongJun_in_CANNES trended on Twitter.

→ Gong Jun posted nine photos of himself in his red carpet outfit. Caption: “Bonjour”

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted an additional eighteen photos of him. Caption: “Leisurely southern method, embroidered picture scroll. The rhyme of the East is hidden in the sleeves of @ Gong Jun Simon.” 

→ #Gong Jun pink suit appears on Cannes red carpet#, #Gong Jun photographed by G#, and #Gong Jun helps Zhong Chuxi up the stairs# got on Weibo’s entertainment hotsearch.

→ An unflattering photo of Gong Jun with his eyes closed was posted by Hung Huang, a well known fashion commentator on Weibo, which was spread around by marketing accounts and got a hotsearch. The photo was later removed by her.

→ Zhenguoli posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ Deeyeo posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ L’OFFICIEL posted a video (flashing lights cw) from their shoot with Gong Jun to their Xiao Hong Shu.

→ L’OFFICIEL posted eighteen photos from their shoot with Gong Jun. (1129 kadian) Caption: “@ Gong JunSimon seems to have a relaxed temperament, just like any ordinary friend you know around you.  He is very typical, sharp-edged, loves freedom, enjoys freedom, lives freely, is not limited by time, but only in the feeling of the moment.  A simple but rich heart has experienced ups and downs, opportunities and circumstances, and has accumulated emotions, matured thinking, and accumulated foundations.” Gong Jun’s studio reposted this with the added caption: “Stepping into the world of boundless mirrors, building on the water, boss @ Gong Jun Simon goes from complex to simple, and lives comfortably at home.”

→ Hogan posted four of the L’OFFICIEL photos, highlighting their shoes.

→ Gong Jun posted twelve photos from the previous day to his Xiao Hong Shu, caption: “Aiyo  Really good @ Jason Wu” and ten to his Instagram, caption: “Merci @ jasonwu” 

→ L’OFFICIEL posted their article with Gong Jun.

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted a video (flashing lights cw) of behind the scenes footage from the L’OFFICIEL shoot. Caption: “The water lines are clear and shallow, boss @ Gong Jun Simon embraces a handful of coolness~” BGM is Violetta by Ballpoint, Cushy, and Dylan Sitts.

→ Gong Jun posted nine photos from the L’OFFICIEL shoot. Caption: “Flying birds and swimming fish live everywhere.”

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted a douyin (flashing lights cw) of footage from the L’OFFICIEL photoshoot. Caption: “Feel at ease, see the boss in the reflection of the pool surface @ Gong Jun Simon A corner of summer.” BGM is Fool For You (VIP Remix) by Kastra.

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted ten behind the scenes photos from the L’OFFICIEL shoot. Caption: “The water wave reflects the mirage of the fingertips, the boss @ Gong Jun Simon lives in a simple house and is at ease.”

→ The designer Jason Wu posted photos of Gong Jun and his suit to his Instagram. Caption: “@ gongjunhahaha in custom #JasonWuCollection couture embroidered suit for @ festivaldecannes -This is a very special and personal project as it is my first menswear design and that in reflects the beauty and exquisite cultural significance of both of our Chinese heritage. It is incredible to showcase this unprecedented collaboration on such an International stage. I am so proud.” He also retweeted quite a few tweets made by fans about the outfit.

→ L’Oreal posted a video of Gong Jun’s arrival in Cannes.

→ The Instagram posted eight photos of “Zhang Zhehan” on a beach. The photos show obvious signs of editing [1] [2]. Xie Yihua attempted to post them previously on 05-11 but they were among the ones removed by Weibo. 

→ Gong Jun appeared in a livestream for L’Oreal. [recording] During it, he confirmed that he is currently filming in Haikou, supporting the rumors about The Remains of the Wind.

→ L’Oreal posted four photos of Gong Jun from just before the red carpet, followed by five photos and two videos, [here] and [here], of him on it. They also later included a photo of him in an Instagram post about the event.

05-20 → #GongJun continued to trend on Twitter.

→ Gong Jun flew back to China.

→ Deeyeo posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun for 520.

→ Rare posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun, announcing their new endorsement with him.

→ MARRSGREEN posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun for 520. They also later posted a video with illustrations of him. (1129 kadian) Fan Observation: The music in the video, Journey by AMPai Music, has a few bars that are very similar to A Love Letter to Filmmakers, the song Zhang Zhehan sang at Weibo Night 2021. 

→ Gong Jun posted a video for Rare. Caption: “It is a pleasure to be the global spokesperson of @ RARE. The fashion brand in Venice has created the legend of Italian fashion luxury, dare to be RARE with me, dare to be different.” This was reposted by his studio, added caption: “Boss @ Gong Jun Simon starts the undefined trend exploration, captures the extraordinary Italian aesthetics, and releases the new trendy luxury.” and by Rare.

→ Zhenguoli posted two photo ads featuring Gong Jun, [here] and [here]. (1129 kadian on the latter)

→ Fresh posted a video featuring Gong Jun for 520. (11:52, 511 and 520 kadian)

→ MARRSGREEN posted a letter about Gong Jun for 520. [translation]

→ The Instagram posted ten more photos of “Zhang Zhehan” at a beach, this time in the evening.

→ Rare posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun for 520.

Additional Reading: → Rising with the Wind is rumored to start airing on 05-31, Legend of AnLe in August.

<<< previous week || all posts || following week >>>

#Zhang Zhehan #Gong Jun #Word of Honor #woh cast #lld timeline

[jarofrebukepodcast]

S1E1 - Pilot (OFFICIAL TRANSCRIPT)

We are working on getting our official transcripts uploaded and links added to each episode. We'll be starting by posting them here on Tumblr!

Episode 1: Pilot

Intro:

The following audio recording is classified documentation for case (static) with The Enclosure, unauthorized access to this information will lead to immediate intervention. Progress further if proper clearance has been given.

(Music)

Jared:

Dr. Daman has suggested that I start an audio journal of some kind. Something outside of my therapy sessions to help me track my progress or whatever. Considering I don’t have much of anything that’s mine anymore, she suggested that this might actually be a good way to reclaim some of my individuality? Maybe talking about what I do know of myself might help me remember more...

So, I guess I’ll just start with what I know:

My name is Dr. Jared Hel. I’m a field researcher for The Enclosure, I specialize in studying the particularly dangerous creatures around here. For some reason, no matter their effect on others, nothing is permanent on me. Gods, the amount of times I’ve died this last year is probably more than I should ever care to admit… I guess it’s a blessing in disguise, though. It’s job security, for one thing: a scientist who can’t die no matter how dangerous the entity he’s studying? I think I’m set.

Sure, I may bounce back from death with a few more scars, but they’re relatively healed up and I’m rarely ever in much pain when I wake up.

Though, to be fair, if The Enclosure just left these creatures alone, I’m sure this wouldn’t even be an issue in the first place, but nooo. They just gotta meddle.

I started working at The Enclosure… what, two years ago? Though I’ve really only been on the field for less than a year. Apparently I worked at a different research site for some other organization before that, but I don’t really remember anything from before two years ago. I supposedly transferred here to research a particularly dangerous subject, the one that… well, the one that killed my team and me I guess.

The most frustrating thing is the lack of remembering. I don’t remember any of their names, their faces, nothing. I had to relearn absolutely everything and no matter what I relearn, I never remember. It’s so infuriating knowing that there’s a whole childhood and more that I have yet to recollect anything from. I feel so… left out of reminiscent conversations, y’know?

Well, of course you know, I’m practically talking to myself here.

All I know of myself before the incident is what was on my work file. Top-of-my-class graduate from IU, but I don’t remember a damn thing about my time there… Apparently there’s a lot of fields ‘round there, though I guess that’s not too different from the towns around here. Born and raised in those corn fields, according to my records. No documented family to speak of, but from what other folks in the labs have shared about their families, maybe I’m not missing out on too much.

When I asked about getting in touch with folks from the other facility I worked at, they didn’t seem to think it would be too helpful. Hell, how would they even know who to put me in touch with? Wasn’t like they would have documented my friends or anything.

So, again: nothing. 

Story of my damn life.

And of course there’s Todd. Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Todd Carmen. He’s currently head of operations at The Enclosure… he’s- I’ll say he’s a character. Not as unique as he thinks he is, but certainly not boring. But just because something isn’t boring doesn’t mean that it’s entertaining.

He has a fashion sense that I would have never personally considered wearing, but… hmm. That shade of orange with his pale complexion? Simply bold choices, in my opinion.

But I’m sure he’ll get himself sorted out someday.

Besides all that though, I guess it’s not too bad. Job security, with benefits. Apparently a lot of jobs don’t offer health insurance, though with our line of work it’s kinda necessary to keep us alive. 

(sigh) What else do I know?

The Enclosure is an organization based out in the middle of absolute nowhere that researches the various anomalies, but really only bothers with the particularly dangerous ones. Like, really dangerous ones. I mean, Bigfoot, Mothman, that sorta stuff they really leave to their own devices for the most part. Sure, they hurt and even, I guess, sometimes kill people, but not a lot of people. And enough people already know about those things to not really hide them away now.

Wichton is like two hours from any other town, it's guised as a farming town. Well, no, it is a farming town, but The Enclosure has taken it as its guise. Most of the facilities are underground, deep underground. They paid off all the townsfolk back when they were building to not ask questions, and considering they built it during a massive economic depression, no one asked questions. The townsfolk took the money. But there’s still some circulating rumors about us to this day, of course. As long as we keep the particularly dangerous creepy-crawlies underground with us, they’ve got no reason to worry too much.

Sure, sometimes things sneak out and make weird noises in the fields at night… but country folk are superstitious folk, and if nothing else it’s what these people have known all their lives. Suspicious lights, weird noises, and mutated deer don’t even phase these people.

The Enclosure picks its battles when it decides what to tackle, that’s for damn sure. Not like they’re an international brand or anything, they only have the resources to stick to these neck of the woods… and with all the anomalies in these parts, not really surprised they settled here. Been here for nearly 100 years and have very little idea why it’s such a supernaturally-charged area. Some say it might be the fact that folks are so superstitious that it basically invites the energy here, but others think there’s a reason.

But, it ain’t my department to figure that out.

The hardest part of the job is getting things into the facility, but sometimes the hot shots up top decide to just have us study those things from afar since taking them out of their established location seems impossible. So many ladies in gray and white dresses all over the place, we can’t exactly make a support group for them here or anything. Not when they’re out haunting dunes or lakes or crying by the side of the road or whatever. Not really hurting anyone all that much, so they’ve mostly just been left alone. We keep tabs, but we also don’t always interfere.

Oh, and being the sacrificial lamb is a bit annoying, but I bounce back quickly enough. Death has gotten less disorienting over time, but no less annoying.

(pause, then sigh) 

What did I do today?

Well, I had a shorter day, shiftwise. So I went in at like 6am? Then got out at around 1ish. I was supposed to leave closer to noon, but I ended up having to stop by Dr. Rahal’s office for a bit because of my headaches. They’ve been getting worse and we don’t really know why. At least they come and go in waves, so I get some peace at times. It’s always nice to see Dr. Rahal, though. He’s been the nicest to me since I started at this place, from what I can remember at least. He’s one of The Enclosure physicians who I’ve been seeing from anything to work-related injuries that aren’t too severe to these headaches. I swear, I’ve never met a guy in my life who can smile so genuinely and be so sincerely happy over just about anything. It’d honestly be annoying if it weren’t so sincere and if he weren’t also so genuinely nice. 

He’s really trying to help with these headaches, but medicine doesn’t really ever help and the medical scans showed nothing that would indicate any issue. Not that they let me see the medical scans… I guess I wouldn’t understand them anyways even if they did let me. Dr. Rahal thinks it’s stress so that takes us back to therapy with Dr. Daman.

Had a session after work, which was when she suggested I really start this up. She suggested it before, but I kind of dismissed the idea until today. She made a very good point.

What’s the harm in doing it? I mean it can’t make the headaches worse. And even if it doesn’t help me remember or anything, maybe getting things off my chest can help in some way. 

Therapy was… uneventful. Not like much happens in a week- just the usual work stuff, mostly. Though I have started going out after work a bit more often, even if it’s just to a local shop or to get a bite to eat. Dr. Daman suggested a few months back that I socialize a bit more and it’s been kinda nice. Weird, but nice. I've mostly stuck to myself outside of work, honestly. Well, besides those community events that you're basically ostracized if you don't attend- or you get bombard you with those calls of "where were you last night? We were so worried about you. Are you okay?" even though you don't remember giving them your number. 

I like to go to a restaurant in town called The Royal Cow. They make the best in-house ice cream. They built it to look like one of those red farm houses which matches most of the buildings in town, but their mint chocolate-chip ice cream is basically the best ice cream I’ve ever had. They also make really really good sugar-cream pie, get it when it’s still fresh, still a little warm. Melts in the mouth. I mean, it basically cures any hankering for a sweet tooth.

So, that’s what I ordered. A fresh slice of sugar-cream pie. That was my dessert. They do also have some pretty good not-sweet foods. Their lunch menu’s alright, but their breakfast food’s really where it’s at and they do that ‘breakfast all day’ thing so I got their breakfast platter. It’s just really really good food.

On my way home I bumped into Darius, he's the son of some local farmers in town. His dads have an apple orchard on top of everything else. The Enclosure actually keeps tabs on their farm because no matter WHAT his dad, John, plants, apples always grow. I mean- no matter what John plants - he could plant pumpkin seeds in the fall - but no, apple trees are going to spring up and I’ll be damned if those aren’t the best apples. I mean sometimes crabapples grow instead, he can’t really control what kind of apples grow, but John has found a way to make crabapples into really good apple pies and ciders and stuff. I heard they make good jams and jellies, but he perfected a crabapple pie. He said it’s “just a lotta love”, but I think there’s with those apple trees.

But again, not my department to figure it out.

Darius and I made small talk. The weather, mostly. So mostly just complaining about how it wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t so humid or if we just had a nice breeze, but that the shade does help. 

(sigh)

He always makes excuses to talk to me- I mean, I’m not complaining, but that does seem to be a thing around town is everyone makes excuses to talk to everybody. Like the one time that Holly stopped me in the middle of the road to chat when we were passing each other. It’s a community norm I guess, but Darius always wants to talk. Again I’m not complaining, he’s a really nice conversational partner. We can chat about just about anything with certain obvious restrictions.

He knows I work at the The Enclosure, but folks in town seem to think it’s some hoity-toity but shady government job. I don’t think we’re really tied to the government, per se, but whatever lie they’ve told the town is just what I stick with. Whether or not they believe that is entirely another story. He knows I’m a scientist, but he thinks I’m more of an environmental natural scientist instead of a supernatural scientist… I guess whether or not he believes that is an entirely other story, too. 

But we don’t really talk about work much, on my end I don’t bring it up. While he does talk about working on the family farm from time to time, especially because they expect him to take over, he tries to find other things to talk about. He’s gone back to school recently. They recently in town set up a sort of trade school, I guess, where if anyone’s considered a master in town, they can teach classes to teach other people whatever skills they have to share. Seems Darius is taking a bit of a home-ec class, I guess. Sewing and cooking and things like that. He said that he’s great with his hands in the field, but he really wants to round out his hand skills. 

He then awkwardly chuckled after that, but I don’t understand why. I mean, it’s completely respectable to want to be able to stitch up your own clothes or actually have a nice dinner besides the reheated leftovers left on your doorstep or know what to do when your microwave catches fire… honestly, I don’t know what all they teach in those classes.

I’d never even heard of something like a home-ec class until Darius told me about it. I wonder if I ever took one… if I wasn’t so busy with work I would actually look into taking classes. I like to learn and Darius even said he’d be more than happy to help me with anything if I needed it which is nice. 

But I’m a really fast learner. I actually get bored a lot because of it. I don’t see why anyone would need five months or years of training or educating. No, I can see why- I also just know I'm the anomaly. When I forgot everything and had to relearn how to read, I was at a 10th grade reading level, by what, just a few weeks?. Then I was at college-level again in a matter of a month. But even though I was relearning stuff quick, I never remembered anything. I never remembered books I’ve read before the incident. I never remembered learning how to read the first time. I just was quickly relearning how to read. I don’t even know if you’d consider remembering how to read. 

I mean, I’m never remembering anything. I don’t even remember the creature that I was working with in the incident, and no one will tell me anything because they said they want me to remember organically or something like that. They said they feared something like a… trauma whiplash? I really don’t understand it and it just pisses me off more than anything, but Dr. Daman won’t budge.

No one will let me look over any files of the incident or files on the other lab techs who died. They slapped this key around my neck and said “Here, to keep your brain in check. Oh, you literally remember nothing? Whelp, tough luck. See this therapist and see what happens-”

(groan)

They said if it weren’t for my weird powers then the incident would have killed me too. They said they don’t know why I have the ability to rebound from death like it nearly never happened, but they sure are willing to use my ability for work.

Right, the key. Uhm-

When I woke up, the first thing the doctors did was have me wear it around my neck on some sort of sturdy red cord. I’ve never taken the thing off in years… You would think that it may have faded a bit or that the cord would have worn, but no. Cord is still sturdy and key is just as shiny as the day they gave it to me, which isn’t that shiny. It was a bit tarnished already, but hasn’t gotten any more tarnished. It’s supposed to help keep my brain in check after the effects of the incident. Dr. Daman says that if I take it off, I risk unlearning absolutely everything that I’ve learned in the last two years… I don’t know why the key is supposed to be the thing that does this, but this is the only time death has ever made me lose everything, so I figured what’s the harm in wearing it. Not like it hurts to wear it or anything…

Darius has asked me about it before, though. Not when we first met or anything, but after multiple times of running into each other he finally asked. I get asked about it a lot, but I just say it’s a familial trinket and they tend to just leave it be.

But Darius had asked after we’d shared a few drinks at a local bar and, even though I have a bit of a high tolerance for alcohol and I never stay drunk long, he seemed to ask at just the right moment for me to open up a bit more, I guess. I said it’s a comfort item… which I guess isn’t exactly the whole truth- I actually honestly hate this thing. A constant reminder of all the things I’ve forgotten, but I guess there’s slight comfort in knowing that, because of this key, everything I’ve relearned will stick. 

They say it’s important to understand all that you DON’T know, but I know all too well that I’ve got at least 20 years of things that I don’t remember. But hey, with this key, I guess I can rebuild that. 

I must have seemed uncomfortable about this question or he was satisfied with that answer because Darius let it go after that, but I catch him staring at it sometimes. He’s asked what I know about Skeleton Keys, and all things considered: I didn’t know much. At least, didn’t remember.

He told me that his dads both told him about the powers keys hold, not just to lock things but even more importantly to unlock them. That a skeleton key could lock or unlock any door to a given building, no matter what other keys people had. Commonly used by cleaners and inn owners and stuff like that. He really seems fixated on the idea and I guess the symbolism is striking with my current… situation considered....

Whatever. The less he knows the better- it would be nice to talk to someone outside of The Enclosure about more personal stuff from time to time, but I can’t go around spilling secrets.

(Pause)

… right, my day. Lunch, talked with Darius. Uh-

After about 15 minutes of 'alright, I should get going’'s, taking a few steps apart, starting up talks about other topics and repeating the process, I finally started home. On my way home I drove past some cornfields and various other pastures. The Enclosure gave me a house near the edge of town, because after a year of rigorous ‘relearning’, I didn't want to live in their communal housing anymore. It's not too far from Darius's family orchard and farm, which is nice. Nicest farm in the area, in my opinion. There's no real rivalry between the farmers, at least nothing too intense, but something about those trees in the distance out of my window is really relaxing.

All the cattle I passed on my way home had moved to face the same direction near the fences and stared into the distance, mindlessly grazing- that and the clouds rolling in were very strong indicators that there was gonna be a heck of a storm tonight. I didn't listen to the weather announcement this morning, but the sky's only gotten darker now so I'm ready to sleep like the dead tonight.

But, when I was pulling into the driveway, I saw something rustling in the bushes by my front door. I thought maybe it was a squirrel or rabbit or something, but then two tiny hands parted the leaves and I saw one of those black-eyed children just… sitting there. Staring at me. I normally only see them at night, I guess it was waiting for me to come home to loiter on the doorstep or something- I don't know. When I got out of my car, I was surprised when it actually climbed out of the bush and just rigidly stared at me with those lifeless black eyes. I got my stuff out of my car and made my way to the door, but it was kinda standing in the way? So I just slid on by it with a muttered apology and slipped inside before it could start whispering requests for entrance.

Never making that mistake again. No matter how much I want to let them in, my house got all sorts of messed up last time and I got a heck of a scolding at work when they found out. I don’t shoo them away, but I don’t let them in anymore.

It was really weird. They normally come knocking or waiting by the sides of the road at night, I had never seen one in the middle of the afternoon.

Once I got settled in I pulled out a book, a crossword book, I was gifted at the last community bonfire. I blow through those things really fast, but I really like them, so Christine gave me like five of them. All different, claimed that she found the most difficult ones she could which was really sweet. She even wrote little notes on the inside cover of each of them, so I’ve ended up keeping them when I'm done just so I can reread her notes when I need a little pick-me-up. Whether a crossword book or a little box of treats, she always writes uplifting notes and anecdotes inside any gifts she gives anyone, all signed in the most beautiful cursive:

With love, Christine Torres.

She really mothers everyone in town, at least that’s what I’ve noticed.

This one is a real toughie, which I like. That's mostly what I've been up to since I got home. I decided that I'd take a break and get to doing, well, this. Dr. Daman was adamant about me giving it a shot, so here we are.

Me, myself, and I…

(Phone dinging)

Ope. Sorry, hold on. Work email.

(Mumbling) Who am I even apologizing to?

(Pause)

Well now, wait a minute- A new lab partner? Dr. Gia Castillo… why the hell did they give me a new lab partner? I guess I'm meeting her in the morning…

I hate it when Todd pulls this. But I guess I've got no say in the matter. The usual.

(Sigh)

But I hate sudden change. I'm tired, I'm reheating some food Mrs. Wethington gave me and going to bed. I can hear the thunder starting to get louder and that kid outside tapping on my door, so I guess I should try and get some sleep.

Guess I'll… talk to you later?

(Pause) This is actually kinda nice. Saying whatever I want without worries. (Strained chuckle that trails off)

I'm already dreading tomorrow.

Dr. Jared Hel, signing off, I guess.

(Recorder clicks and music trails in with sounds of thunder)

Credits:

"Jar of Rebuke" is written and produced by Casper Oliver, who is also the voice of Dr. Jared Hell.

The intro is read by Vanessa Rosengrant, and credits are read by Ashlee Craft who has created the podcast’s official graphics.

Music was created by TheMenniss (spelled M-E-N-N-I-S-S), who you can find and support on Bandcamp, Spotify, and Twitch.

Find us on Twitter, Instagram, and anywhere else you get your podcast fix for more “Jar of Rebuke”, and also to get updates on upcoming official merch for our show.

Support projects by this crew on Patreon to further other queer-lead projects and get neat perks. All donations are appreciated and will grant further clearance to special “Jar of Rebuke” content.

Thesperience Productions Patreon.

#Jar of Rebuke #official transcripts #jor podcast #thesperience #thesperience productions #midwest gothic #midwestern america #queer characters #lgbtqplus #queer horror #queer artist #queer podcast #lgbt horror #gay horror #horror podcast #horror comedy #mystery podcast #gay mystery

[ukrfeminism]

5 minute read

On 1st May this year, Johanita Dogbey, a 31-year-old Ghanaian British woman, was killed in broad daylight in Brixton, London. The man accused of attacking her, Mohamed Nur, a 33-year-old Somali British man, is currently in police custody and awaiting trial. Her death adds to a long list of Black women who have been found dead due to or under the suspicion of foul play in recent years: Darrell Buchanan, Blessing Olusegun and Valerie Forde, to name a few. With growing discourse surrounding the prevalence of Black femicide in the United States, following shocking revelations like the fact that Black women are four times as likely as white or Hispanic women to die a violent death, it’s time Britain recognised its own epidemic. On the surface, the data indicate no apparent racial disparities but a deeper look into the context of how these figures are produced points to a more complex and even dangerous reality for Black women in the UK. 

Understanding Black femicide

The World Health Organization (WHO) generally defines femicide as the “intentional murder of women and girls because they are women” but allows for broader definitions encompassing any killings of women and girls. The vast majority of women’s murderers are men, with ‘intimate femicide’ (i.e. intimate partner violence) being the most typical form. Worldwide, over 35% of all women’s murders are reported to have been committed by a former or current husband or boyfriend. Conversely, just 5% of male homicides are committed by a current or former intimate partner (this includes gay and bisexual men). Other common types of femicide comprise honour killings (occurring mainly in the Middle East, South Asia and their respective diasporas), dowry deaths (most prevalent in India) and non-intimate femicide — often with a sexual motivation. Accordingly, Black femicide can be understood as the intentional killing of Black women and girls on the basis of their race, gender or both; it can also include any Black female homicide victims. 

Looking at the global stats, we can see that in the US, Black women’s risk of homicide rivals that of Black men, with one dying on average every six hours in 2020. In South Africa, an average of nine women are killed every day, making it one of the most dangerous places in the world to live as a woman, particularly a Black woman. Predominantly Black Caribbean countries Antigua & Barbuda and Jamaica have the second and third highest femicide rates in the world, respectively, with El Salvador topping the list. 

I n the UK, we know that a woman is killed on average every three days but the frequency of said violence happening to Black women is unclear, given a dearth of intersectional reporting on the issue. For example, the 2020 Femicide Census, an archive of the “women who have been killed by men in the UK and the men who have killed them”, records the ethnicity of just 22 out of 110 victims. Of this figure, 16 were white and six were Asian. Without further context, the takeaway here would be that no Black women (or at least a much smaller proportion) were killed by men within this dataset, which could then be extrapolated to apply to Britain’s population as a whole. When speaking about this to a representative of nia, the anti-violence against women and girls (VAWG) charity that oversees The Femicide Census, they acknowledged this is a problematic conclusion: “The lack of meaningful, verified (i.e. official public record material) data on ethnicity is an ongoing problem. Data on race and ethnicity is drawn from police responses to Freedom of Information requests (FoIs). Ethnicity was provided in only one-fifth of police FoIs, and even then, the terms used are inconsistent, arbitrary, sometimes meaningless, archaic or downright offensive, for example, ‘Dark European’ or ‘Oriental’.”

‘Global majority’ is used as a collective term to describe those racialised as non-white, who make up approximately 85% of the world’s population. Anecdotal evidence and interpersonal experiences from anti-VAWG service providers and service users alike suggest femicide disproportionately impacts global majority women in the UK, including Black women, according to nia. However, without more precise figures to back up these ideas, the ability to identify culture-specific risk factors, barriers to access and best methods of providing support is limited. “Without such data, there will be no evidence base for the need for specialist by and for organisations, additional targeted resources and overhauling practice and policy which may reflect racist and sexist attitudes or institutional racism and sexism,” nia concludes. 

Inter-community issues present overlooked risk factors

Like other forms of violence against socially minoritised people, the line between what is and what isn’t an act of discrimination is often ambiguous. Dogbey’s death, for instance, has been framed as a completely “random attack” by media reports. Perhaps it simply was a case of wrong place, wrong time; perhaps not. Latoya Dennis, the founder of Black Femicide UK, thinks not, believing Dogbey’s killing to have been influenced by an underground culture of online inceldom and inter-community tensions between Somali and non-Somali Black groups. “I think there’s a strong incel community and I believe that a lot of Somali men are a part of that, from what I’ve seen online. I wouldn’t be surprised if the man who killed Johanita was a part of that community,” she tells us. Nur is reported to have (non-fatally) assaulted two other women and a man on 29th April, showing a gender bias in his crimes. When asked to expand, Dennis references hostile online encounters with Somali men on her platform after profiling the story of a Somali Bolt driver allegedly attempting to abduct a young, non-Somali Black woman. “That was the most backlash I’ve received through my work. I received a lot of threats and harassment, and I was also doxxed,” she explains. 

Sistah space

W hether or not this sentiment is correct, it highlights a valid sense of intra-racial rift within Black Britain that the media and institutions alike fail to interrogate in depth, leaving Black women at risk. Unbothered Editor L’Oréal Blackett speaks to an overreliance on the UK’s few Black journalists to cover Black stories as a partial factor in these gaps in mainstream coverage: “When I’ve worked at major publications, these kinds of stories are looked at as an inter-community issue. There’s a sense of ‘we can’t touch that’ within these white (and male)-dominated newsrooms.” She continues: “UK media is relying on a handful of Black journalists to cover everything that goes on in our communities.”

Sistah Space, a domestic violence charity advocating and campaigning for Black and mixed-race British women of African and Caribbean descent, also cites racial and cultural prejudices as major reasons why Black British women’s deaths don’t receive as much attention as the deaths of white British women: “The media categorically does not give Black women and domestic abuse enough attention. For example, media coverage of the Sarah Everard case was on every news source for a period of time. Can you name any Black women who have had the same amount of coverage or outcry?” 

It’s not just the media at fault here. As detailed above, there is an oversight when it comes to the interrogation and provision of race and ethnicity-specific insights from the government and police that potentially reflects apathetic and even racist (and sexist) attitudes towards female global majority concerns in this country. In March 2014, Valerie Forde, 45, and her 22-month-old baby were brutally murdered by Valerie’s ex-partner after her cries for help had been either downplayed or ignored by the authorities, exemplifying such failings. Six weeks prior to her death, Forde had told police that the then 53-year-old Roland McKoy had threatened to burn down her house with her and her baby inside. Instead of Forde’s warning being recorded as a threat to life, which would have required much closer monitoring, it was deemed a threat to property — a serious but far less urgent risk. Furthermore, BBC News reports that a civilian call handler failed to fully record and communicate critical information in the 999 call from one of Forde’s daughters on the day of the crime. Were it not for the “inaction” of authorities, Forde may have been alive today. 

Sistah Space believes this to be the case and is advocating for Valerie’s Law, a proposal which would implement “mandatory cultural competency training that accounts for the cultural nuances and barriers, colloquialisms, languages and customs that make up the diverse Black community”. In 2021, the organisation launched a video campaign to illustrate the unequal treatment of Black and white female domestic abuse victims by law enforcement. Research conducted by Sistah Space reveals that in the UK, 86% of women of African and/or Caribbean heritage have either been a victim of domestic abuse or know a family member who has been assaulted. Only 57% of victims, however, said they would report the abuse to the police, likely due to a historic lack of confidence in law enforcement among Black Britons. Meanwhile, March 2020 to June 2021 figures from Refuge, the country’s largest specialist domestic abuse organisation, show that Black women were 14% less likely than white survivors of domestic abuse to be referred to Refuge for support. 

Implementing meaningful change 

The man accused of killing Johanita Dogbey will not be standing trial until 29th April 2024, joining tens of thousands of backlogged cases in London alone that will not be fully reviewed for an average of over a year. With Dogbey’s story falling out of the mainstream news cycle just over a week after her death, it’s hard to imagine a society where Black femicide is given the consideration it deserves. As things stand, we rely on specialist media platforms like Unbothered to do the work in platforming these narratives and organisations like nia and Sistah Space to push for more comprehensive statistics and cultural awareness among governing bodies. A greater emphasis on Afrofeminist data will ultimately be the building block for more informed insights into the realities and concerns of Black women in the UK. We must continue striving to make this issue a top priority, not just for us but for everyone.