#so my perception of time is a little bungled

[99-devilz]

no patience for foolish machines... OH NO GABRIEL WATCH OUT

#ultrakill #v1 #gabriel #ultrakill fanart #ultrakill shitpost #ultrakill v1 #ultrakill gabriel #yeah make sure that video is looping y'hear #thats the way its meant to be.... #its meant to be a gif but it was too hefty for tumblr lole #this was a test to see how long it would take me to make somthing like this in toonboom #and boy howdy. #it took so long #but i started then forgor abt it half way through last year and then remberd it this week #so my perception of time is a little bungled #ough #ultrakill gluttony #blood #blood tw #gabriel amungus bone sticking out i hope u like it #blushes bashfully

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Prog

Todd Keisling: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call the tale of the yellow kings Keisling: so there's this progressive rock band making an album based on the yellow king Keisling: with a cover by our greatest living artist roger dean Dean Koontz: hey! that's my name too! Keisling: that's no coincidence boy

Keisling: so there's this groupie Keisling: camilla Keisling: and she's got ideas for the band's music Keisling: horrifying apocalyptic ideas Keisling: she's going to have everyone take off their masks Robert W Chambers: i get it!

Keisling: they're going to cause an apocalypse with the power of progressive rock Dean Koontz: wow progressive rock sounds pretty dangerous Keisling: only in the wrong hands, dean Keisling: the power of progressive rock turned to evil, like Univers Zero or Van Der Graaf Generator, can be devastating Keisling: but turned to the light...

Keisling: take a look at this album, dean, pretty cool huh? Keisling: oh dean Keisling: prepare to have the doors of perception Keisling: blown right off their hinges

Kiesling: check this out dean, i think you'll really like this music Poe: whoa todd this might be a little advanced for dean Kiesling: no don't worry i'll start him off slow Kiesling: let's start you off with some Yes

Dean Koontz: Yes? Keisling: yeah i think you can handle it Koontz: why is there a scary zombie on the cover? Keisling: that's steve howe Keisling: actually dean on second thought Keisling: Yes might be a little much for your first time Keisling: let's start you with Yes Featuring Jon Anderson, Trevor Rabin, Rick Wakeman

Keisling: behold, my record collection! King: wow this is quite the collection todd! King: you know, you could save a lot of space if you went digital Keisling: yeah but Keisling: vinyl just has a warmer sound ya know?

Keisling: dean i think you're really going to like this band Keisling: it's called jethro tull Poe: whoa whoa dean is not ready for that Keisling: oh don't worry i'm not playing thick as a brick or anything Keisling: just bungle in the jungle Keisling: you'll like it dean it's about animals

Koontz: can i listen to this album? Keisling: Crack the Sky? no dean that's the ayahuasca of prog Keisling: you want the flintstones chewable vitamins of prog Keisling: here, try some tarkus

Dean Koontz: [vibrating while listening to headphones, blood gushing from nose] of course i understand it all Keisling: Dean! No! Keisling: Not Gentle Giant! Keisling: it's too much, too soon! Koontz: each day actually consists of four days occurring simultaneously

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #edgar allan poe #dean koontz #robert w chambers #todd keisling

[theluckywizard]

In the Shattering of Things, Ch. 45: An Irredeemable Flirt

Chapter Summary: Rose gets to know the Champion a little better at the Rest and bungles her way through a lesson in swordplay she wishes she was getting from Cullen.

Fic Summary: Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke.

Excerpt:

At the Rest, Hawke sits like a man who is used to taking up space in whatever way he pleases. He leans comfortably in his chair with one long leg stretched out across the aisle, pulling it in for passersby whenever they come through. We drink dry ciders and I bite my nail while I scan and sign reports on scouting expeditions into Orlais and diplomatic summaries while we chat.

“And that is why I declined to be Kirkwall’s Viscount,” he says, watching me.

“Someone has to do this. It’s fallen to me,” I say simply. “I don’t mind the politics so far. Or the wrangling.”

“You wouldn’t rather be out slinging demon ichor?” he asks me with a smile like he knows it’s a ridiculous question. I imagine that would be his preference, legendary warrior that he is.

“I like being in the field but I’m not built for the kind of battles I find myself in– I don’t have nearly enough training and my instincts are all wrong considering. Trouble always seems to find me.”

“What a coincidence! Trouble finds me too.”

“Maybe if I’d gotten an earlier start as a fighter I’d like it more. But I’m better off here managing things than out there closing rifts with my bare hands.”

“Well, I’m glad it suits you, even if you didn’t ask for it. Better here though? I’ll be the judge.”

“Somebody has to make the difficult decisions around here.”

“True. You just don’t strike me as the offices and paperwork type.”

“I don’t?”

“You look like you’d rather be sitting up in a tree at any given moment,” he says with astonishing perception, a smile creeping up into one of his cheeks.

“You’re not wrong. But everyone’s looking to me to fix everything now. The trees will have to wait.”

He looks at me with an openness that has me in a permanent flush.

“Oof. That’s familiar. My friends understand on some level– but you– you’re living it. It’s novel to meet someone who shares that,” he says, choosing his words carefully. I quietly read a report, partially concealing the red in my cheeks behind it.

“Are you– hiding from me?” he asks after a moment, greatly amused.

“No,” I say, lowering the report enough to prove him wrong.

“You are ,” he says, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. I scrunch my face in embarrassment and summon an assertive response. I can’t hide from him forever.

“If I seem a little– out of sorts, it’s because I’m not used to sitting beside actual celebrities, even as the Herald of Andraste. ” He seems perfectly put out by this, furrowing his brow and rubbing the scruff all over his jaw before leaning back looking at me again.

“I’m just one man.”

“ Yes. One man that everyone knows about. There are books written about you. Statues of you!”

“Say what you will, but I never had a tavern named after me,” he says with a laugh. I shake my head at him. 

“Give it time.”

“Oh my legend has peaked already. I’m in the comfortable downswing where people stop expecting things from you,” he says. “Varric told me I can come off as intimidating. I’m not trying to be. But I suppose with all the rubbish I’ve dealt with over the years I’ve put on a sort of cover for it all.”

“A cover? That’s a shame,” I remark. “Then what are you actually like?”

“Bit of a goof, really,” he owns, taking a drink.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” I reply, meeting his persistent eyes. “Besides, I’d like there to be some hope I’m spit out the other side of this still me somehow. No cover, just me.”

“It’s all in that self-care,” he says. “If I’d been better about it, maybe–” He scans the room and notices Krem a few tables over, playing cards with Rocky and Dalish, a winning grin splayed sideways across his face.

“He’s a good looking specimen,” Hawke says, pointing. “What about him?”

“We are not doing this,” I say, taking a draw on my cider and hiding behind my tankard. He looks mischievous, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, searching about. 

“There’s always someone,” he insists. “Seemingly out of reach perhaps, but there’s someone. I find it hard to believe anyone would be out of your reach, though.” His blue gaze threatens me again over a cheeky smile and I roll my eyes in exasperation, again recalling Varric’s description of him as an irredeemable flirt.

Read the rest here

DAFF CREW

@warpedlegacy | @rakshadow | @rosella-writes | @effelants | @bluewren | @breninarthur | @ar-lath-ma-cully | @dreadfutures | @ir0n-angel | @inquisimer | @crackinglamb | @nirikeehan | @oxygenforthewicked | @mogwaei | @exalted-dawn-drabbles | @melisusthewee | @blarrghe | @agentkatie

#In the Shattering of Things #Dragon Age Inquisition #Dragon Age Fan Fiction #Garrett Hawke #Hawke & Inquisitor #Purple Hawke #blue purple hawke really though #Too bold for his own good #Cullen x Trevelyan #Cullen x Inquisitor #Cullenmance #Multiple Relationships #Eventual smut #Slow Burn #Fast Burn #Hawke x Trevelyan #Hawquisitor

[protectgeorgeweasley]

Reviewing some older content for the draft and the dialogue in the opening of Inheritance (Part I) really sends me for a loop. On one hand, I look at it rather fondly. On the other, it is a Franken-passage of aggressive liberties taken with late middle English.

It really was my best go at a decipherable approximation that accounted for the era and somewhat tricky speaker demographic. (Muggles were on the cusp of modern English, though I suspect Wizarding languages evolved a slight bit differently, due to shifting norms [no statute of secrecy or Ministry, yet, and the structures of Wizarding governance are in a flux at this point. Also, Muldoon's just tried to classify the differences between "beasts" and "beings" and bungled it badly.] + regional variation + advanced mobility for the era [floo powder and brooms, at least, were both in common usage by then] + influence from surrounding speakers/areas [whether muggle or wizarding] + perception of prestige regarding those other speaker groups. There were also some curveballs to consider, like entire, other languages influencing the one shown. [Muldoon likely spoke a variety of Early Modern Irish in addition to the badly done late middle English you see in the chapter, but I do not know how to write in Classical Gaelic at all, so his note uses my cobbled together Proto-Late-Middle-Wizarding-French-English].)

TLDR: I knew/know just enough about etymology and earlier Englishes to have tried, but not nearly enough to succeed. I likely cannot fathom the plethora of ways in which I failed, actually.

Have I already apologized to the medievalists? I'm sorry, Medievalists.

It's very possible that I've talked about this on the blog already, but every time I revisit that bit, I get a little sentimental because I have such love for it, ugly duckling that it is.

#lumosfic #writing things #medievalist wizarding lore #this is how we got such stellar lines as “my lord merlin where hath he gone” #unfiltered treesap

[2n2n]

Tsukasa’s got a really interesting mental state--! I wanna add a little to Bird’s thoughts here.... it feels as if, his ability to perceive time/order events properly is scrobbled, as a result of the Nowhere space/Red House. 

This story is itself, disordered. We now know Tsukasa met Nene-chan at age 4... and Amane met her briefly at both 8, and 13. Tsukasa seems to be the most cognizant of what he’s doing, but not at some cost. He’s not quite well put together... but for what he’s managing, its impressive. 

He doesn’t seem to easily respond to people/things coherently or appropriately. And it seems to take him at times a second to ‘catch up’ with where he currently is, and what’s happened....

(what difference does 10 or 20 or 50 years make, to someone like Tsukasa? He’s not even kind of right about ‘how long its been’ if we consider maybe ‘time of death’ as the ‘last time’ (pretending the roof never happened).... he accidentally sees this as their ‘first meeting’ but, woops-- ah, it’s not!)

Every time Tsukasa sees Amane, he’s excited and exuberant and defaults to complete and utter joy as if it’s the first time he’s seen him in years--!! 

I often feel like Tsukasa both interacts with Amane as if they were just picking back up where they left off in their touchy-feely childhood.... and also hasn’t seen him in ages.... at once somehow. He seems really bad at remembering ‘where they last left off’. Whatever vibes they are presently upon, Tsukasa’s not good at keeping tabs.... the oeuvre of being together all the time, and missing Amane for a long time, are all mushed together in his little pea brain.

The Red House itself seemed to exist outside of time, so while Tsukasa was gone for ~6-8mo in the living breathing timeline, it’s clear many, many people passed through the Red House (and it was an infamous/ominous feature for long enough that grandma Minamoto and others involved in the unknown were speaking of it), and it persisted outside of those literal constraints (as it literally was where Amane was living, but ‘kept’ Tsukasa inside its other-worldly boundary, etc etc, obvious mumbo-jumbo).

We really don’t know how to measure ‘how long’ Tsukasa spent there, at 4. But I think between this, and the likely ~50 years as Amane’s Yorishiro in Hanako’s (as of yet unseen) boundary, time has become sortof... disordered, for Tsukasa. Reality is a tangle.... he’s adapted wholly to a mindset which is abnormal. He’s good at moving through it for a greater plan, but he trips and bungles a bit once he’s got to have conversations at all.

He doesn’t seem to always know where in the timeline he’s at or what timeline he’s precisely in. I like how he seeks this anchor from Nene very earnestly:

.... if anything, I think Tsukasa can’t react to events in a ‘normal’ way at all due to his bizarre experiences, which make up the bulk of his existence....

I’m always curious about the Red House incident. It feels as if, once the timeline-possibility to return to Amane is opened up to Tsukasa’s mind-- something that wasn’t ever going to happen on his own (making it officially Kou and Nene’s fault, lol)-- he starts experiencing those memories dawning upon him, as the timelines form ??? That’s my best interpretation of this scene... glass shards in this manga always represent memories (you’ll see them most commonly during Yorishiro breaking, but you’ll also see them peppered about in little ways while any character is reminiscing about something).

..... it seems like a new timeline manifests as he percolates for the first time, the idea of returning. This timeline didn’t exist before, but it does now.... Does this sort of thing happen... often, to Tsukasa? As events unfold, does he have to process the eventualities and consequences as potential memories entering his psyche? What’s it like to merge with a God? What is a God’s perception of time/space/memory? How does his human psyche fare?  Maybe Tsukasa has great reason to always seem out of it and ditzy, while also being a sortof chessmaster ... 

...I don’t think words like ‘traumatized’ or ‘stressed’ apply to Tsukasa at all, though ‘disordered’ applies in droves to him.

#small JSHK thought #in a sad way a normal relationship feels out of the question for tsukasa #and... he doesn't seem to think about his time that way. #he's so goal/puzzle-solver oriented.... #I HOPE WE TAKL TO YOU SOME DAY BOY #LIKE JUST DISCUSS FEELINGS FOR ONCE

[australian-desi]

BRIDGERTON SEASON 2 - THOUGHTS/REVIEWS

Spoilers ahead

This is a very long post, if anyone reads it I will be truly obliged. You will indeed, have my heart.

Alright, so I went to bed at like 6am after binging the season, and woke up at 8:30am so like I'm very delusional at the moment but I had to gather my thoughts.

So now that the adrenaline rush has gone after binging 8 episodes that were 1 hour long from 7:30pm to 4:50am I have decided that while I loved the season mostly, there was some parts which were quite frankly lacklustre and underwhelming.

The Good:

Kathony - they hit the nail on the head with their chemistry, and the scenes we did get. I was literally giddy everytime they came on my screen

Jonny and Simone

Newton

The slow burn - I really liked the slow burn, and the sex scene we got was immaculate (I'm still thinking about the flash where he's in between her legs and making eye contact with her). Anthony Bridgerton and Kate Sharma are freaks in the sheets and I love them for it.

Everytime Edwina and Kate called each other "Didi" or "Bon" my heart literally soared, I do not care if they bungled up the Sharma family's ethnicity, this had my heart. I literally cried when Edwina stopped calling Kate Didi.

The almost kisses. Holy shit everytime he came close to her and would breathe out the dialogues in exasperation, I screamed. I loved every second of it

The love triangle was better than I expected it to be. I liked how they showed that Edwina was mad at Kate for lying to her and projecting her own wants/dreams onto Edwina, rather than Edwina discovering herself on her own.

I loved the Sharma sister scenes. The haldi, Kate applying oil on Edwina's hair while they talk (this scene really made me happy because my mum and I bond when she is putting oil in my hair, and is a common beauty/bonding ritual among South Asian women)

I was here for Eloise and Theo's friendship/relationship, but he was a dick to her

I liked how Penelope was forced to face the repercussions as Whistledown and that Eloise found out

I really enjoyed the epilogue, really wanted their post-coital scene to be longer (because I am a perve) and I do think we would be getting married Kathony next season otherwise I will riot.

The way I screamed when he got Kate tulips, it was what I was begging for all season. I was about to throw the whole season away if he didn't get her tulips specifically.

And when he mentioned that she smells like lilies, and the time she walks past him and he just smells her. THAT SCENE WAS EVERYTHING

Look, I know it wasn't historically accurate, but when Kate abuses british tea by saying Indian tea is much more flavourful, I felt seen. Also when she has her own little spice pouch which she makes her tea spicier with gave me life.

Every Benedict and Anthony scene

The Mary and Kate scene where she tells Kate that she fell in love with her the moment she met her.

Did not mind the accents, especially because Kate sounded like she was code-switching (it was stronger in scenes with Edwina and Mary than with other characters). Also coz they weren't jarring.

Violet and Anthony's arc was beautifully done.

How Bollywood it was

The Bad:

Edwina being blind to Kate and Anthony until a second before she was about to say "I do" - like I get that they wanted to keep her in the dark, but she could've been more perceptive and choose to ignore it.

Kate Sharma's full name. There was no need for it, luckily it was only mentioned once and I can blissfully ignore and pretend he said Katharine

The incestual fuckery that was the love triangle between Portia, Prudence and Jack

Jack's whole scam - WHY WAS THIS GIVEN SOOOOO MUCH SCREEN TIME

Due to the above point, it really felt that the Kathony scenes were very few and spaced out in between each other, which isn't great. Because if they cut out like 50% of the Jack bullshit, we could've gotten scenes of Kate and Anthony connecting on an emotional level.

Also the show is called Bridgerton not Featherington, why were the Bridgertons as a whole given less screenspace than the Featheringtons.

Kate Sharma's trauma being reduced to that to match Anthony's. Again if they did better with screen space allocation, they could've expanded on Kate's trauma, and made them emotionally connect more. I just feel a little robbed of this.

The fact that Kate calls Edwina "Bon" (a Bengali term), is from Mumbai/Bombay, has the surname Sharma and calls her parents "amma" and "appa" which are South Indian terms. Google is free. It would've taken you less than 5 minutes to see what Mumbaikers/North Indians call their parents or even South Indian surnames starting with "sh".

The pacing was insane

ALSO IT WAS CRIMINAL HOW SHORT THE LAKE SCENE WAS. MY MAN FALLS IN THE LAKE AND YOU DONT EVEN SHOW HIM DRIPPING WET AS HE GETS OUT. ROBBED.

Changes I would've made because I think I could be a better show runner:

Give the Featheringtons (barring Penelope) like 5 minutes of screenspace per episode as opposed to 20.

Make Kate's fear of storms like it was in the book. She saw Anthony's panic attack when she got stung, he gets to see her panic attack. Maybe even make it that when she tells him that her dad used to read to her during storms, he reads to her to calm her down (I genuinely thought he was going to read her but alas he did not).

Anthony telling Edwina like he tells Kate in the book, that their marriage would have friendship, respect but not love, before they got to the altar, not after Edwina runs away and he needs to convince her.

Edwina being more and more uneasy about marrying Anthony, and noticing his growing closeness with Kate the closer they get to the wedding, and then the night before the wedding, at a dinner or something Edwina is talking to Anthony he is intently staring at Kate instead, Kate drops the bangle, Anthony picks it up and looks at Kate and hands it to her, Edwina notices all, calls off the wedding (this happens end of episode 5). Episode 6, the queen is having issues with the wedding being called off, LW says some shit against the queen, the Bridgertons and Sharmas face some level of ruin. Kate and Edwina have their fight, Kanthony bond over failing in their respective duties to their families after meeting in an early morning horse ride, they kiss.

Episode 7-8, Edwina-Kate make up, the Bridgerton ball that no one showed up to, Edwina urges Kate to follow her heart, Kate and Anthony meet again. angst. They have sex as they did in the show. Get married, wedding night sex. Epilogue. The end. (Fit in the accident somewhere)

Pick a region where the Sharmas are from and stick to it

This was a long one thankyou for reading anyone that did.

#bridgerton #kate sharma #simone ashley #jonathan bailey #anthony bridgerton #kathony #bridgerton season 2 #the viscount who loved me

[lucienscoat]

Teaching Children to Read Before They Can Talk

Children from birth to age 3 tune in to a great deal of words and learn to express. Their vocabularies develop as they get more seasoned and they learn how to rhyme and to mix sounds to 'sound out' words and remember words by sight. Conventional government funded schools train that children can't generally learn to read and fathom until they arrive at second and third grades. However kids are learning to perceive words before they can express and to begin reading, so anyone might hear when their language aptitudes create.

The more you read to a child at an early age, the faster their aptitudes create. Little youngsters resemble wipes getting data at quicker rates than at some other time in their lives. They perceive words and can create reading abilities a lot quicker than our school framework gives them credit. Is anyone shocked that our kids experience difficulties with words and numbers when we stand by until kindergarten to begin educating them.

My nephew learned to read by age three. He is six now and astonishes grown-ups with his reading and perception, a long ways past his years. He utilizes words and exhibits understanding that leaves grown-ups thinking about how a child could know so a lot and carry on an astute discussion. It is so interesting to see him in a DVD, game or book segment reading out loud the covers before choosing his decision. Grown-ups passing by are astounded that he can read grown-up level words, however really understands what he reads. Trust me, he is kid totally. He loves to play and sometimes is a 'nutty knucklehead', as I call him. We read to him before he could talk and when he was capable needed to read the narratives to us. As much as I might want to state it is in his qualities, the truth of the matter is we exploited the extremely early stages and instructed him. It didn't require some investment.

I've attempted to scan the web for data from specialists and therapists, yet they appear to will in general overlook all that they instruct about youth schooling and spotlight on formal training starting around 5 years old. They expound on little youngsters creating and getting new aptitudes at a quicker rate than some other time in their lives, yet they undersell the learning potential they have. We are doing our kids such an incredible insult when we don't perceive there potential to learn from the get-go. We can so effectively give them a head start on their schooling. It doesn't rely upon financial status, however on our taking a couple of seconds to instruct them.

I as of late found a program that gives you all the instruments you require so you don't need to bungle around. I wish I had found the program years back. I might have been a great deal more viable with less exertion. I take each risk to pass out data about this program so parents of infants and babies can give their children a bit of leeway. Parents need to give their children all the bit of leeway they can in anticipation of life.

[galoots]

Team Uncle Week 2019 - Day Two: Teasing Donald and his classmate, Daisy, are working on a school project at the McDuck Manor. And these two obviously have it bad for one another. Politely, Scrooge waits until after Daisy leaves to mercilessly clown on his beloved nephew.

Scrooge carefully picked his way through an obstacle course of scattered sheets, uncapped markers, open textbooks, glue sticks, and vials of glitter that littered the floor. His previously pristine living room now resembled the desolate battlefield of some craft-related war. Not that he particularly minded a little mess as long as Donald and his little study partner were getting their project done. Duckworth, however, would surely have a fit if he laid eyes upon this catastrophic mess.

           He reached the couch just as the kids re-entered the living room. Both Donald and Daisy were carrying armfuls of fresh school supplies, backup munitions to bolster their existing armaments. Donald’s greeting was cut short when a stray marker underfoot caused him to lose his footing, sending him crashing to the ground. With an elegant sidestep, Daisy avoided the trajectory of Donald’s fall and watched his supplies spill everywhere.

           “Hello Mr. McDuck.” She greeted him politely while using her sneaker-clad foot to jostle Donald’s prone body, making sure he was still alive.

           His uncle fought back a sigh. Ever since that boy had hit his growth spurt, he’d become an accident waiting to happen. He’d been clumsy before, but puberty compounded his bungling into something extraordinary. A regular bull in a china shop.

           Scrooge suppressed the urge to rush to his nephew’s side to check on him like he would whenever he took a spill as a tot. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass Donald in front of his new objet d’affection. Still, he couldn’t conceal a sympathetic wince when Donald’s chin collided with the hardwood floor.

           He cleared his throat loudly to distract Daisy from the spectacle of a flustered Donald scrambling to collect himself. “So how goes the project, kiddos?”

           “G-good!” Donald was crouched now, trying to play off his fall as if it hadn’t happened and gathering up the items he’d spilled. “We, uh, we’ve been working hard. A+ material for sure!”

           Daisy made a smug little noise at that remark. “I’ve been working hard he means. Donald here—” she flipped his bangs teasingly with her hand, “—keeps zoning out and staring off into space.”

           “Not true!” He stopped cleaning up in order to playfully yank her tied shoelaces undone. “I wrote the whole section about the socio-political fallout that lead to the dawn of WWII!”

           “Hey!” Daisy cried with mock offense at his retribution and bumped him with her hip in response. “Only ‘cause I had to nag you last night to work on it instead of bombarding me with IM’s.”

           A small knowing smile crept on to Scrooge’s face while he watched their cute repartee over the folded edge of his newspaper. They’d only befriended each other recently but almost immediately established a familiar coquettish rapport with one another. Scrooge wasn’t the most perceptive duck in the flock, but even he knew puppy love when it was staring him in the face. He watched their spectacle with subtle attention while the two of them—absorbed in laughter and chatter, shy accidental brushes of the hand, exchanges of coy smiles and glances—forgot entirely about his presence in the room.

           He let their steady banter coupled with the soft scratch of pencil lead on paper serve fade to the background of his focus as he turned back to his reading. The two of them were well-suited for each other it seemed, since they were able to make steady progress on their project despite their flirting.

           Time passed pleasantly as the hour grew later, marked by the steady fading of the light outside. Having noticed the change, Daisy checked her wristwatch and began to pack up her things. “I gotta get home.” She swung her backpack over her shoulder and stood up, smoothing her skirt as she did so.

           “Already?” Donald complaint was tinged with disappointment. No doubt their time together seemed excruciatingly short from his point of view.

           Daisy nudged him with her shoulder. “It’s late! If I stay any later my mom will flip. She’ll think I skipped town with some hunky guy or something.”

           Donald opened his beak to ready a response, but Scrooge intervened, asking Daisy if she needed a ride home before his nephew could utter a word. He knew his nephew well enough to know when he was about to insert his foot into his mouth. It was for his own good anyway—he doubted Donald’s remark about the identity of that hunky guy being a certain teen-aged duck would have been successful.

           Scrooge threw his newspaper onto the couch as he hastily moved to prevent disaster. “So, need a ride home, Daisy?”

           “No thanks, Mr. McDuck. I rode my bike here.”

           “Alright,” Scrooge yielded, “Just see to it you get home safely, alright? I don’t want to read about a reckless driver’s collision with cyclist because of low visibility in tomorrow’s paper.”

           “I’ll be fine, Mr. McDuck. I got those reflective stickers on my bike.” She smiled at him, pleased that he cared enough to worry about her.

           Like the courteous gentleman Scrooge raised Donald to be, he walked their guest to the door to see her out. Scrooge trailed behind, letting Donald hold the door open for her while they exchanged pleasantries. As Daisy took off down their driveway, she waved to them both before finally pedaling out of sight.

Donald waved dreamily at her retreating figure and said, in a voice too quiet for her to hear, “Bye, Daisy.”

           Scrooge smirked at his love-sick nephew. Turning to head back inside, Donald caught his uncle’s smug little grin.

“What?” Donald shut the door behind him, noticing Scrooge’s impish grin.

He didn’t want to tease his nephew about his crush when she was present, but now that she was gone? It was a no-holds barred moosewood stadium freestyle goofing sesh, and Scrooge was ready to bring the heat.

           “Oh, nothing…” He swung his cane nonchalantly in the air on his way back to the living room, eager for Donald to take the bait.

           Donald jogged after him, a perturbed, suspicious look fixed on his face. “What are you smiling about?”

           Scrooge sat gingerly back down on the couch. Hook, line, and sinker. Time for the games to begin. “Can’t a man smile in his own home?”

           Donald eyed him with apprehension, let out a hmph, and bent down to start tidying the mess he’d left on the living room floor.

           Crossing his ankle over his knee, Scrooge tittered to himself. “That Daisy of yours is quite the nice young gal, isn’t she?”

           Right on cue, Donald blushed and stammered nervously. “She’s fine! I guess. Whatever, its not like I like her or anything. I mean, I like her but not like, like-like her. She’s just a girl! Who happens to be a friend!”

           Scrooge hummed, sounding unconvinced. His nephew ducked his head bashfully, focusing his attention on his cleaning efforts.

           He tapped a finger against his chin, peering down at Donald. “You know, Tennyson said Spring was the time a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of love. I think he may be mistaken; the season’s clearly fall.”

           Dropping his armful of stationery, Donald squawked. “I don’t love her!”

           Chuckling, Scrooge swatted Donald’s head lightly with his rolled-up newspaper. “I was discussing poetry, nephew. You should be the expert. You are the designated poet in this family, after all.”

           Grumbling loudly, Donald started to pack up the arts and crafts supplies even faster.

           “Speaking of, you haven’t given me one of your poems to read in a while. Yet, I always see you scribbling away in that notebook of yours…”

           Donald abruptly stood, eyes wide, and brow furrowed,  briskly walking out the room. Following in quick pursuit, Scrooge wheeled around the corner into the parlor. Donald was already making his way up the stairs, beating a hasty retreat to his room.

           He called after him good-naturely, enjoying the sport. “What’s the matter, nephew? No blason? No sonnets?” Scrooge puffed out his chest, thudding a fist against it, recited pompously, “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun…”

           “Shut it!” Donald leaned over the banister, waist against the railing, to shout angrily at his uncle. “That’s not even what that sonnet’s about! It’s a satirical send-up of the poetic conventions of courtly love! God!”

           Scrooge’s laughter echoed up the staircase and down the hall Donald was trying to cross as fast as he could. Motivated, Scrooge ignored the pain in his hip to catch up with his nephew. He swung an arm over the boy’s shoulder, pulling him so close their cheeks were smushed together. “Ah young love! You never forget your first love. It’s special you know.”

           With a violent shrug, Donald escaped from his uncle’s hold and stomped off towards his bedroom, quickly flinging the door closed. He hadn’t escaped the onslaught however, because Scrooge had wedged his cane between the door and its frame before it could close. Donald leaned his weight on the door, trying to keep Scrooge out, but his uncle still outclassed him when it came to strength, and he slid forward as Scrooge pushed the door open. He strolled in like he owned the place, continuing on like he hadn’t just strong-armed his way past Donald’s defenses.“Although I suppose Mickey was your first love. Oh my, he isn’t upset about this, is he?”

           “I’ve told you a million times, Uncle Scrooge! We were friends! We were never together! I don’t even like boys!” Donald squeaked out through the thick of his embarrassment.

           “Ah, is that why I found you two locked in a passionate kiss that one time?”

           Donald covered his bright-red face with his hands and, with a phrase now commonplace in their household, whined, “It wasn’t what it looked like!” He whipped around shoving fruitlessly at his uncle’s back. “Get out of my room! Go away!”

           “Oh no,” Scrooge melodramatically exclaimed, throwing a hand to his forehead in an imitation of a faint. “I feel weak, Donald!” He leaned his weight against Donald’s hands.

           “No, you’re not! Leave me alone!”

           “Donald, m’boy, my body’s growing heavy. I can’t seem to move at all! How curious!” Donald was supporting his uncle’s weight now as Scrooge went limp. His arms shook with strain as he protested.

           “If you don’t love me, Donnie, I do believe I’ll expire right here on the spot!”

           “No, you won’t! Cut it out!”

           “I’m dying…” Scrooge slumped completely against Donald. “I’m dead…” They flopped onto the bedspread as Donald’s arms gave out, and Scrooge sat on top of his nephew, pinning him to the bedspread with his weight.

           “Get offa me!” Donald struggled, kicking his legs and waggling his arms, but couldn’t break free. Frustrated, he buried his head in his duvet, grumbling furious remarks into the fabric.

           Well that wouldn’t do, Scrooge thought. He wanted a happy Donald, not a grumpy one. Fortunately, he knew the perfect solution. Scrooge grabbed the boy’s ankle, confining his leg between his arm and his side, and started tickling the underside of Donald’s foot. Immediately, Donald burst into hysterical laughter, his body shaking with his guffaws while he squirmed to try and get away.

           It didn’t take long for Donald to yield, crying, “Uncle! Uncle!”

           Unfortunately for him, Scrooge loved a good pun. “Yes, I am your uncle. What of it?” Scrooge grinned with devilish glee at his own joke.

           “I mean I give! Lemme go!”

           Finally, Scrooge ceased his efforts, watching Donald’s slight frame shake with residual laughter. He freed him from his hold, moving his weight off the boy and onto the mattress so the lad could catch his breath. When his breathing had evened out, Scrooge looped an arm around Donald’s neck, pulling him into a loose headlock so he could noogie him. By then, Donald had given up trying to escape his uncle’s little wrestling match. He was too tired to fight back anymore and chose to lay limply in his uncle’s grasp like a dead fish.

           “You’re so mean, Uncle Scrooge.” Donald’s complaint had no bite behind it just the fond exasperation of a child dealing with a parent.

           “Oh, come now, I only tease because I love you, dear.” He planted a gentle kiss on top of Donald’s captive head.

           “Yeah, whatever.” Donald apathetically replied, before adding, in a quiet, rushed voice, “It’s not like it’s a big deal or anything but, um, Iloveyoutoo.”

Scrooge said nothing, smiling down happily at his nephew, who returned his loving gaze with a small shy smile of his own. It was a perfect moment—the kind you’d like to freeze in its tracks so you could tack up the memory in your mind like a snapshot. But time flowed on, and the peaceful little bubble was popped by a warbling cry of despair of a posh British voice that rang from downstairs. What happened to my living room?!”

           “Uh oh. Puppa sounds mad,” Donald mumbled, realizing with a gasp why. “We forgot about the mess!”

           “Woops.” Scrooge replied with dry dismay.

           They exchanged a look, communicating wordlessly with one another. We’re really in for it now.

#duckverse #disney ducks #duck comics #donald duck #scrooge mcduck #teamuncleweek2019 #day two #loots duck universe #LDU

[rumbelleshowdown]

A Charming Encounter

Author: Skin Deep Prompt: sky at sunset; fruit basket; cottage Group: B

“A fruit basket?”

“Well I very well couldn’t send her flowers now, could I?”

“Ah,” a light of understanding dawned in David’s eyes. “So I take it things are still….unresolved with her father.”

Casting him a side eye, Gold took a deep breath trying to control the string of curses and insults that hung on the tip of his tongue. It was his own fault really, that David felt comfortable enough to approach him at the grand opening of the library. He had involved him in that disastrous event at the mine with Belle’s father, and ever since then he seemed to have the unfortunate impression that they were somehow now friends.

He had entirely avoided all social interaction for the last hour, content on watching his love, bask in the spotlight from the shadows of the library stacks. He had been happy in his solitude, but even as he gave his best most terrifying glare in hopes to deter him, Charming continued to endlessly chirp in his ear.

“Well a fruit basket is more practical anyway, flowers die too quickly.”

Gold glanced at the ginormous pile of fruit that Belle had proudly displayed on the checkout counter.

“It’s atrocious,” Gold sighed. He wasn’t sure which looked more out of place, the oversized fruit basket, or him.

He felt a hard slap on his back, as David gave him a toothy grin.

“Well don’t be too hard on yourself. I mean you did give her the library.”

It was only a small token, not in any way comparable to the light that she brought in to his life. He would gladly give her a hundred libraries if she would let him.  His eyes searched the room, quickly landing on her talking to a small group of people. Her smile was radiant, as she gestured around her, pointing out features of the library.  He felt a sense of pride and wonder that such a beautiful creature would allow him in her life.

Her shining blue eyes landed on his for a moment, causing his heart to skip a beat. Captivated by her radiance, he continued to stare, even as she returned her attention to the group before her. She was wearing his favorite blue dress, and his eyes roamed over her shapely legs, as heat coiled in his belly.  

“There you are.”

Snow’s sweetly sick voice poured over his growing desire like a bucket of cold water.

“Why are you hiding out here in the corner honey?” she playfully asked her husband, before noticing Gold’s presence.

“Oh, Rumpelstiltskin.” She eyed him cautiously.  “I didn’t see you there.”

“If only your husband was as blind.” He uttered under his breath, dismayed that he was now faced with a double dose of the Charmings. After a beat of silence, he inwardly groaned as Snow dived head first into an irritating drabble of small talk.

“So a little birdie told me that you had a hand in reopening the library, Rumpelstiltskin.”

“Still talking to birds, huh?” He smirked as she rolled her eyes at him. “Indeed I did. I can’t tell you how many complaints I overheard of the…mediocre education provided by the Storybrooke public schools.” He smiled flashing his gold tooth, as her eyes narrowed. “This library was desperately needed to supplement the teachers’ subpar performances.

As she lifted her chin and crossed her arms, he awaited whatever insult she was about to fling, secretly hoping she would storm off leaving him to enjoy his quarantine.  He felt a pang of disappointment as David placed a hand on her shoulder, leading to her taking a deep breath. She flashed a spurious smile his way as a false cheer strained her voice.

“Well whatever the reason, Belle has done a magnificent job in remodeling.”

“I thought I felt my ears burning.”

Her sweet voice flooded his ears like a glorious symphony, bringing with it a feeling of pure relief.    Reaching his arm out, she slid perfectly into his side.  

“I was just saying what a wonderful job you’ve done with the library, Belle.”

“Well thank you Snow. It was a lot of hard work, but I’m happy with the result.”

“You should be sweetheart.” Gold squeezed her around the waist.  “This place looks stunning.” He knew first hand all of the late nights and early mornings she put in to the remodel.

“Well it doesn’t have quite the dramatic flair of the other library you gave me,” she teased.

“Other?” David asked baffled.

“Rumple gifted me a library when we lived together in the Dark Castle.”

“You lived with him?” Snow all but shouted aghast at the news.

Gold was certain that if she was wearing pearls she would have clutched them, but instead had to settle for wrapping her cardigan tightly around her chest.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you two lived together back in the enchanted forest.” She let out a nervous chuckle looking at David mystified, and then back at them. Clearly muddled by the blank stare reactions he and Belle gave, she unsuccessfully floundered for any kind of recovery.

“I’m not judging …I’m just surprised is all. I mean…it’s not every day that a young maiden lives…you know out of tradition with…I can’t imagine what people thought...you know, the perception of living with the dark one.”

Tilting his head he spoke with a tone as sharp as his suit. “Worried about perceptions, dearie. That’s quite amusing coming from the woman who lived in a cottage with seven men.”

“So,” David clasped his hands together, looking to Belle for some sort of truce.  “I was admiring the fruit basket that Rumpelstiltskin sent you.”

Gold bit his tongue as Belle’s hand rubbed soothing circles on his back. If she wasn’t offended by the slight on her reputation, then he would stand down. He knew how important this day was for her, and he damn well wasn’t going to ruin it.

“Yes, it was a very thoughtful gift. I actually ate the banana for lunch today, and immediately thought of him.”

Stunned for a moment, Gold turned to her as all the anger and tension drained from his body. His eyes grew dark as all of his blood rushed to his cock.   Everyone and everything faded from his vision except for her.

“Well I hope it was satisfying,” he licked his lips as his breathing shallowed.

“Oh it was.  Delicious in fact. I may want another very soon.” He felt himself grow hard at her words, as he dug his fingers into her waist.

“Ahem.”

He could feel Belle slightly jump under his fingertips as Snow loudly cleared her throat, shattering the sensual moment between the two. Suddenly remembering they were not the only two people in the room, Gold turned his attention back to a horrified Snow, and David who was smiling at him like a cat who ate the canary.  

“You should try some.” Belle offered sweetly. “There is definitely enough there on the counter for everyone.”

“Thanks, but no.” Snow lifted her hand declining. “I’ve been off of fruit since you know the whole apple thing.”

Clearly out of pleasantries and small talk, all four stared at each other in silence. Quickly glancing down at her bare wrist, Snow broke the air of stillness. “Well would you look at the time, we really should get going.”

Gold stood rigid, but inwardly was silently rejoicing that this bungling charade of a friendly interaction was over.

Belle glanced down at her own watch, her eyes widening with surprise.

“It’s way past closing. The open house should have ended 30 minutes ago.”

“39 to be exact.” Gold blurted out before thinking. “But who’s counting?”

“Well you should take it as a compliment, Belle.” David smiled. “Everyone’s having such a good time, they don’t want to leave.”

“I’m grateful that the library is such a hit….but” she bit her bottom lip as her regretful blue eyes turned towards him. “I know you planned us a special dinner tonight, Rumple, I’m sorry if this delay spoils any of your plans.”

Although he spent a majority of his day, painstakingly executing every detail for their dinner, from the Peking duck, to the folded napkins on the table he set up on the back patio of his garden, he would not allow her to feel one moment of guilt. He gently brought his hand up to her face, cupping her cheek, his eyes filled with nothing but admiration.

“It’s perfectly fine sweetheart. I pretty much have everything done. I just have to heat it up when we get home.”

“But…”

He cut her protest off with a quick kiss. “No buts. Now I concede that the timing may cause us to forfeit the sky at sunset for our dinner backdrop, but I would just prefer to look at you anyway.”

She leaned in lightly kissing his lips, before pulling back to look at him. “Well maybe we can make up for missing the sunset, by watching the sunrise together in bed.”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention, as her eyes communicated a silent carnal desire. He felt a twinge in his pants, as her pink tongue darted out wetting her lips.  Swallowing hard, she turned toward the Charmings.

“I know you two have hosted many celebrations. Any ideas on how to get a room full of people to leave?”

 Before either could reply to her question, Rumple lifted his hand in a dramatic flourishment. “Shall I make them all disappear, my sweet?”

Snow’s stern voice bellowed in the air. “Rumpelstiltskin, don’t you dare!”

“He’s just kidding,” Belle reassured her before turning to him with a tone of uncertainty in her voice. “Right?”

Puckering his bottom lip in contemplation, he lowered his hand, giving her a shrug.

“I’ve got this,” Charming boasted bringing his hands up to cup his mouth. “Can I have everyone’s attention?”

Gold hated to admit that he was impressed at how quickly the room fell silent at David’s command. “We would like to continue the after party celebration for the library over at Granny’s. First round of drinks are on me.”

The crowd cheered and started moving towards the door. Distracted by the mass exodus, Gold was caught off guard as David smacked his arm, giving him a ‘that a boy’ smile.’

“You two enjoy your dinner.”

Before Gold could reply, David took his wife’s hand, and headed out the door.

Rumple stood back as Belle bid adieu and shook hands with the leaving patrons. Fifteen minutes later, he stood alone in the middle of the library, as Belle waved off the last straggler and locked the door. He let out a sigh of relief, that the party had ended with no one being turned into a snail or evicted.

Enchanted by her pure beauty, he smiled as she walked towards him.  He wanted to tell her how proud he was of her. That although he spent most of the evening tucked away in his own little corner he enjoyed watching her brighten up every person’s life that she encountered that evening.  He had so much he wanted to say to her, but when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, every word was swept away in an intense body rush.

His lips desperately followed hers, as she pulled away from him. “Let’s go home,” she purred.

He shook his head no, as he used his body to back her up against the counter.

“There is something I want to check out first.” He moved his arms around her waist hoisting her up onto the counter as multiple pieces of fruit fell to the floor.

“What would you like to check out Mr. Gold” she asked innocently leaning back on her hands.

“The librarian,” he growled kissing her hard, as she wrapped her bare legs around his waist.

#rumbelle showdown #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #round three entry #author: skin deep #group B #rumbelle showdown 2019 #rumbelleshowdown

[wahoo-stomp]

I’ve never really been a big listener to One Direction.

Okay. That’s a lie. I literally don’t listen to One Direction. Got nothing against them – just never really had any interest, and my music tastes are…limited. So I was more than a little surprised when my Spotify playlist led to a 1D song in the Year of Our Lord 2019. I know Spotify can sometimes select a song that it thinks you’ll like based on what you listen to – but the artist I’d been listening to wasn’t even in the same genre. So imagine my surprise when I’m greeted with—

You're insecure Don't know what for You're turning heads when you walk through the door.

Okay first of all, what?

This is roughly when I reached for my phone to change the song, but then my brain did that thing where it went “eh what the heck” and I let it play a little longer. It didn’t take long for me to see that this is one of many songs with a theme of the singer talking to someone and telling them they’re more attractive than they realize. It’s not the most original concept, but there was nothing particularly offensive to me about this iteration of it, so I let the song continue further. I admit I like pop styled tunes, probably because of a whole bunch of stuff a music theorist could better explain than I can, so it was fun to listen to – and then suddenly something jumped out at me.

I hardly believe I’m saying this, but I’m going to recommend listening to the song to see what I’m talking about if you don’t know it, and NO, this isn’t a plug for a defunct boy band.

Okay, you’ve listened to the point where they go “If only you saw what I can see—” you can pause it there. 

So far the artists have stuck to what I would call pleasant but superficial comments. Hair flicking is…not really anything that stands out to me, since frankly I care more about eyes and anyways we’re talking from the perspective of a guy who might be asexual and aromantic (can I say that? I’m still trying to figure it out, so I’m not sure I’m right anyway and hopefully I didn’t irk anyone just now). Lighting up the world, yada yada yada. Heard it all before, will hear it again. But then, when the line mentioned above played, my attention was instantly grabbed.

Now before I explain why that is the case, I’m gonna let ya’ll in on a little secret. I’m super, super duper, super duper duper insecure. I know, right? You never would have guessed*. Nah, but all joking aside, one of the things I struggle with most is a feeling of…worth. Now I do have people in my life who tell me they love me – I have friends who (I think) think pretty highly of me, and I have a job and am overall doing okay for a millennial trying to survive as a liberal arts major in this economic nightmare we call “capitalism.” But even all that granted, I struggle everyday with the idea that I’m really worthy of love or interest or anything along that line. This is largely because I am acutely aware of my faults, including the ones I (gasp) try to hide from others. Fact is, I have a scrolling list of ways in which I bungle things, sometimes daily, and it’s not all that easy to see myself as valuable when I have said list.

*You literally guessed after three seconds.

I can hear you saying “no one is perfect, Josh.” Yeah, I know. Heck, the characters in my other blogs are learning that as we speak (even though I think Rocky is pretty darn close). Still doesn’t keep me from berating myself. Sometimes, if we’re totally honest, the internal and external pressures I face are nearly enough to make me give up on myself as a lost cause.

“Okay, um, this is depressing. Does it get better?”

Well, I have one more thing to add. I’m a Christian.

*cue sirens*

Christians are a scary bunch to some folks, and, uh, I don’t always blame them. Some people claiming to represent Jesus suck immensely at it and there is an extensive list of people who do so that I wish I could just tell to shut up. But, with your permission, we’ll skip over the common stereotypes associated with radical Christianity and, for now, summarize my faith perspective as the following statement – I see God as my friend, and I believe the converse is true.

Good. We’ve got that out of the way.

Here’s the problem. If my faith is to be believed, God knows me inside and out – meaning God knows what an idiot I can be. That’s disconcerting. That’s unnerving. That’s freakin’ terrifying – not because I expect God to drop a bolt of lightning on my face (again, not that kind of “Christian”), but for the same reason I don’t tell all of YOU how messy I can be – I don’t want you to hate me or give up on me and decide I’m not worth it.

Okay. That’s a lot of laundry, but I promise I’m getting to a point.

When I say I see God as a friend, I recognize how that might sound. Many faith traditions not only disagree with that statement, but disagree on the nature of God, period. I’m not here to argue with those folks. Disagreement and respect are compatible. If you don’t mind hearing me out, though, perhaps my perspective on God in relation to a 1D song will provide you with either (a) some encouragement or (b) the final confirmation you need that I am in fact a lunatic. We shall see.

If only you saw what I can see You'll understand why I want you so desperately Right now I'm looking at you and I can't believe You don't know You don't know you're beautiful!

Okay, that rolls off the tongue well. What does it have to do with what I mentioned above? Well, if I may be allowed to withdraw a sample (emphasis on sample, I strongly encourage reading the full context of this thing) from the pre-Christian writings of Scripture, more specifically the book of Psalms, chapter 139, verses 17 and 18:

“How precious to me are your thoughts, God!    How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them,    they would outnumber the grains of sand—    when I awake, I am still with you.”

“Okay, great. Where’s the connection?”

Well, although this particular piece doesn’t mention it, there are a variety of instances in scriptural writ where God’s thoughts towards people, be they individuals or nations, are referenced as positive. (Yes, there are negative examples too, often stated as part of a judgment passage, but I am not skilled in the subject of God’s judgment and will not attempt to go into depth on it right now). The chapter at large acknowledges God’s presence throughout the writers life, even predating birth. For the record, the writer of this particular Psalm, was, uh, messed up. David did some stuff right but whoa nelly he really did some screwball stuff (to put it incredibly lightly) – so we’re not looking at someone who’s perfect when he talks about God’s thoughts.

If we take this piece of writing, therefore, and slightly change the perspective of the speaker…we might end up with a (rather less cliché sounding) 1D song. Now before someone burns me at the proverbial stake, let me clarify what I mean. (NO, I’m not equating holy writ with pop music, promise.)

Let us assume, that these positive examples of God’s thoughts, can be applied to ourselves – or to you and me, to bring it home. If this is the case, when we regard ourselves as unworthy of love, or not valuable, or ugly (a struggle for me personally) or whatever else, is it entirely unreasonable that God’s reaction might be something along the lines of the chorus above?

I think that if we refer back even earlier to that venerable writ in the Torah known as Genesis, we can encounter God’s initial thought on the creation of humankind. Essentially, “It was very good (1:31).”

(For the record, it goes downhill from there as far as the whole “being good” thing goes, but for that moment, at least, God was pretty excited with the state of humankind.)

So let us now take the (limited) textual context and apply it to the, song, taking some creative license (and removing any romantic preconceptions).

Dear one I’d light up the world for nobody else To see a smile on your face makes me smile as well No matter what you may think it’s not hard to tell I still know, oh oh You are just so beautiful If only you saw what I can see You’ll understand why I care for you constantly Right now I’m looking at you and I can’t believe You don’t know – you are just so beautiful.

Okay, now here’s something I feel obligated to clarify. I’m not a fan of fluffy faith. I’m also not a fan of reducing suffering and emotional struggle to a single sentence. Band-aid solutions and glib encouragement irk me. So I am not pretending for a moment that I know what anyone reading this is going through. Really, I’m just writing something for myself and hoping that something in it provides encouragement for others.

Essentially, I believe God’s perception of our value is not tied to ours, and I’m encouraged by the idea that someone smarter than me knows just what I’m capable of, and loves me despite all my dirty laundry.

That doesn’t mean I recommend using 1D as a source of spiritual encouragement.

I do recommend considering the possibility that your favorite love song or the things that encourage you could very well be used by God to try to communicate God’s thoughts to you. Furthermore, I do recommend acknowledging your value is not caught up in only your perspective, and that there are so many ways in which you are valued…beautiful, that you may not even see.

After all, perfection isn’t attainable – but if you don’t dismiss something because it’s imperfect, why would God?

Everyone else in the room can see it, Maybe it’s time you did too.

#josh's journals #long post #faith? #1d #if that set of tags isn't strange i dunno what is lol #but i've had a week™ #and this stuff just...came to me

[beauty-grace-outer-space]

Hello! I love your writing! I just re-read your stories for, like, 10th time! Can I ask you for advice? I'm writing a story in which character A is in love with B. B's still getting over the loss of their previous partner, and A knows this and tries to be very understanding and doesn't push their feelings. A is also very good at hiding things, but B is very perceptive and every now and agains gets a glimpse of A's true feelings. I'm trying to figure out B's reaction to all this. Thoughts? Thanks

Hi there! First of all, thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoy my writing! I’m happy to offer advice where I can. 

It’s a little tricky to offer advice with this phrasing, but I’ll try. 

For me? I’m a sucker for angst-- so my mind immediately went to “B wants to reciprocate but can’t because they’re hurting too much... and A’s actions remind B of their previous partner.” 

You could really go several ways. B sees, understands, and wants to reciprocate, but isn’t good at showing feelings so things keep getting bungled up. B sees, isn’t ready and brushes things off, but that would definitely hurt A and affect their relationship (if they ever get together). B sees but convinces themselves they aren’t seeing what they think they’re seeing, so A keeps trying harder and harder and it gets a tad ridiculous. Etc. etc. 

There are a lot of options. If you want to discuss it more in depth, feel free to PM me and we can talk your story specifically. 

Thanks, love.

[diarrheaworldstarhiphop]

WASHINGTON — President Trump loves to set the day’s narrative at dawn, but the deeper story of his White House is best told at night.

Aides confer in the dark because they cannot figure out how to operate the light switches in the cabinet room. Visitors conclude their meetings and then wander around, testing doorknobs until finding one that leads to an exit. In a darkened, mostly empty West Wing, Mr. Trump’s provocative chief strategist, Stephen K. Bannon, finishes another 16-hour day planning new lines of attack.

Usually around 6:30 p.m., or sometimes later, Mr. Trump retires upstairs to the residence to recharge, vent and intermittently use Twitter. With his wife, Melania, and young son, Barron, staying in New York, he is almost always by himself, sometimes in the protective presence of his imposing longtime aide and former security chief, Keith Schiller. When Mr. Trump is not watching television in his bathrobe or on his phone reaching out to old campaign hands and advisers, he will sometimes set off to explore the unfamiliar surroundings of his new home.

During his first two dizzying weeks in office, Mr. Trump, an outsider president working with a surprisingly small crew of no more than a half-dozen empowered aides with virtually no familiarity with the workings of the White House or federal government, sent shock waves at home and overseas with a succession of executive orders designed to fulfill campaign promises and taunt foreign leaders.

“We are moving big and we are moving fast,” Mr. Bannon said, when asked about the upheaval of the first two weeks. “We didn’t come here to do small things.”

But one thing has become apparent to both his allies and his opponents: When it comes to governing, speed does not always guarantee success.

The bungled rollout of his executive order barring immigrants from seven predominantly Muslim countries, a flurry of other miscues and embarrassments, and an approval rating lower than that of any comparable first-term president in the history of polling have Mr. Trump and his top staff rethinking an improvisational approach to governing that mirrors his chaotic presidential campaign, administration officials and Trump insiders said.

This account of the early days of the Trump White House is based on interviews with dozens of government officials, congressional aides, former staff members and other observers of the new administration, many of whom requested anonymity. At the center of the story, according to these sources, is a president determined to go big but increasingly frustrated by the efforts of his small team to contain the backlash.

“What are we going to do about this?” Mr. Trump pointedly asked an aide last week, a period of turmoil briefly interrupted by the successful rollout of his Supreme Court selection, Judge Neil M. Gorsuch.

Chris Ruddy, the chief executive of Newsmax Media and an old friend of the president’s, said: “I think, in his mind, the success of this is going to be the poll numbers. If they continue to be weak or go lower, then somebody’s going to have to bear some responsibility for that.”

“I personally think that they’re missing the big picture here,” Mr. Ruddy said of Mr. Trump’s staff. “Now he’s so caught up, the administration is so caught up in turmoil, perceived chaos, that the Democrats smell blood, the protesters, the media smell blood.”

One former staff member likened the aggressive approach of the first two weeks to D-Day, but said the president’s team had stormed the beaches without any plan for a longer war.

Clashes among staff are common in the opening days of every administration, but they have seldom been so public and so pronounced this early. “This is a president who came to Washington vowing to shake up the establishment, and this is what it looks like. It’s going to be a little sloppy, there are going to be conflicts,” said Ari Fleischer, President George W. Bush’s first press secretary.

All this is happening as Mr. Trump, a man of flexible ideology but fixed habits, adjusts to a new job, life and city.

Cloistered in the White House, he now has little access to his fans and supporters — an important source of feedback and validation — and feels increasingly pinched by the pressures of the job and the constant presence of protests, one of the reasons he was forced to scrap a planned trip to Milwaukee last week. For a sense of what is happening outside, he watches cable, both at night and during the day — too much in the eyes of some aides — often offering a bitter play-by-play of critics like CNN’s Don Lemon.

Until the past few days, Mr. Trump was telling his friends and advisers that he believed the opening stages of his presidency were going well. “Did you hear that, this guy thinks it’s been terrible!” Mr. Trump said mockingly to other aides when one dissenting view was voiced last week during a West Wing meeting.

But his opinion has begun to change with a relentless parade of bad headlines.

Mr. Trump got away from the White House this weekend for the first time since his inauguration, spending it in Palm Beach, Fla., at his private club, Mar-a-Lago, posting Twitter messages angrily — and in personal terms — about the federal judge who put a nationwide halt on the travel ban. Mr. Bannon and Reince Priebus, the two clashing power centers, traveled with him.

By then, the president, for whom chains of command and policy minutiae rarely meant much, was demanding that Mr. Priebus begin to put in effect a much more conventional White House protocol that had been taken for granted in previous administrations: From now on, Mr. Trump would be looped in on the drafting of executive orders much earlier in the process.

Another change will be a new set of checks on the previously unfettered power enjoyed by Mr. Bannon and the White House policy director, Stephen Miller, who oversees the implementation of the orders and who received the brunt of the internal and public criticism for the rollout of the travel ban.

Mr. Priebus has told Mr. Trump and Mr. Bannon that the administration needs to rethink its policy and communications operation in the wake of embarrassing revelations that key details of the orders were withheld from agencies, White House staff and Republican congressional leaders like Speaker Paul D. Ryan.

Mr. Priebus has also created a 10-point checklist for the release of any new initiatives that includes signoff from the communications department and the White House staff secretary, Robert Porter, according to several aides familiar with the process.

Mr. Priebus bristles at the perception that he occupies a diminished perch in the West Wing pecking order compared with previous chiefs. But for the moment, Mr. Bannon remains the president’s dominant adviser, despite Mr. Trump’s anger that he was not fully briefed on details of the executive order he signed giving his chief strategist a seat on the National Security Council, a greater source of frustration to the president than the fallout from the travel ban.

It is partly because he is seen as having a clear vision on policy. But it is also because others who had been expected to fill major roles have been less confident in asserting their power.

Jared Kushner, Mr. Trump’s son-in-law, occupies a central role in the administration and has been present at most major decisions and photo ops, but he is a father of young children who has taken to life in Washington, and, along with his wife, Ivanka Trump, has already been spotted at events around town.

Mr. Bannon has rushed into the vacuum, telling allies that he and Mr. Miller have a brief window in which to push through their vision of Mr. Trump’s economic nationalism.

Mr. Bannon, whose website, Breitbart, was a magnet for white nationalists and xenophobic speech, has also tried to reassure official Washington. He has been careful to build bridges with the Republican establishment, especially Mr. Ryan — whom he once described as “the enemy” and vowed to force out. He now talks regularly with Mr. Ryan to coordinate strategy or plot their planned overhaul of the tax code.

Before he was ousted in November as transition chief, Gov. Chris Christie of New Jersey, the Trump adviser with the most government experience, helped prepare a detailed staffing and implementation plan in line with the kickoff strategies of previous Republican presidents.

It was discarded — a senior Trump aide made a show of tossing it into a garbage can — for a strategy that prioritized the daily release of dramatic executive orders to put opponents on the defensive.

Mr. Christie, who agrees in principle with the broad strokes of Mr. Trump’s immigration policy, says the president has been let down by his staff.

“The president deserves better than the rollout he got on the immigration executive order,” Mr. Christie said. “The fact is that he’s put forward a policy that, in my opinion, is significantly more effective than what he had proposed during the campaign, yet because of the botched implementation, they allowed his opponents to attack him by calling it a Muslim ban.”

In the past few days, Mr. Trump’s team has stressed its cohesion and the challenges of jump-starting an administration that few outside its group ever thought would exist.

“This team spent months in the foxhole together during the campaign,” said Sean Spicer, the White House press secretary. “We moved into the White House as a unified team committed to enacting the president’s agenda.”

As part of Mr. Trump’s Oval Office renovation, he ordered that four hardback chairs be placed in a semicircle around his Resolute Desk now heaped, in Trump Tower fashion, with memos and newspapers. They are an emblem of Mr. Trump’s in-your-face management style, but also a reminder that in the White House, the seats always outlast the people seated in them.

But finding enough skilled players to fill key slots has not been easy: Mr. Spicer is serving double duty as communications director, a key planning position, in addition to engaging in day-to-day combat with the news media. Mr. Trump, several aides said, is used to quarterbacking his own media strategy, and did not see the value of hiring an outsider.

An early plan was to give the communications job to Kellyanne Conway, his former campaign manager and top TV surrogate, but the demands of the job would have conflicted with Ms. Conway’s other duties as a free-range adviser to Mr. Trump with Oval Office walk-in privileges, according to one aide.

Mr. Trump remains intensely focused on his brand, but the demands of the job mean he spends less time monitoring the news media — although he recently upgraded the flat-screen TV in his private dining room so he can watch the news while eating lunch.

He often has to wait until the end of the workday before grinding through news clips with Mr. Spicer, marking the ones he does not like with a big arrow in black Sharpie — though he almost always makes time to monitor Mr. Spicer’s performance at the daily briefings, summoning him to offer praise or criticism, a West Wing aide said.

Visitors to the Oval Office say Mr. Trump is obsessed with the décor — it is both a totem of a victory that validates him as a serious person and an image-burnishing backdrop — so he has told his staff to schedule as many televised events in the room as possible.

To pass the time between meetings, Mr. Trump gives quick tours to visitors, highlighting little tweaks he has made after initially expecting he would have to pay for them himself.

Flanking his desk are portraits of Presidents Thomas Jefferson and Andrew Jackson. He will linger on the opulence of the newly hung golden drapes, which he told a recent visitor were once used by Franklin D. Roosevelt but in fact were patterned for Bill Clinton. For a man who sometimes has trouble concentrating on policy memos, Mr. Trump was delighted to page through a book that offered him 17 window covering options.

Ultimately, this is very much the White House that Mr. Trump wanted to build. But while the world reckons with the effect he is having on the presidency, he is adjusting to the effect of the presidency on him. He is now a public employee. And the only boss Mr. Trump ever had in his life was his father, a hard-driving developer the president still treats with deep reverence.

With most of his belongings in New York, the only family picture on the shelf behind Mr. Trump’s desk is a small black-and-white photograph of that boss, Frederick Christ Trump.

#donald trump #United States

[supervidyavinay]

Ajit Dayal, Founder, Quantum Advisor, is back in circulation. Though he left Quantum Mutual Fund three years ago, Dayal continues to be the face of the fund house for its most loyal investors. Shivani Bazaz of ETMutualFunds.com caught up with Dayal to find out his thoughts on a wide range of issues from the current pandemic to the future of value investing. Edited interview.We spoke to you last when you were leaving Quantum Mutual Fund almost three years ago. How have you been? What keeps you busy these days?Barring trying to avoid COVID-19, I have been well – and busy. While the succession plan had been put in place prior to my resignation from the Boards of the Sponsor and Quantum AMC in August 2017, there was still a residual hand holding that took up some of my time in the following year. In October 2018, I was drawn back to help Quantum in the efforts that we had started on converting our Integrity screen in our investing process to a full-fledged ESG-integrated approach. We had started building teams in 2014 for ESG and I spent some time over the past year on ensuring this process was completed. So, I have retired in one sense – but I let the passion drive me and direct my involvement with Quantum Mutual Funds and the Sponsor. You still seem to travel a lot, especially abroad. Is there anything left of the India Story abroad?I spend my time travelling to educate people on the reality of India and asking them not to get caught up in undue optimism or pessimism. The BRIC fairy tale penned by Goldman, Sachs hurt India because it numbed Indian policy-makers into believing that India would rise to some Super Power status because some overpaid economists with little Indian knowledge mandated so on their spreadsheets! By the time of the Great Financial Swindle and the collapse of Lehman in September 2008, the India story was in danger because of the UPA government’s focus on growth at any cost – including questionable and possibly corrupt deals, as has been seen in many court verdicts. The Modi win in May 2014 was seen by many as a re-set and an opportunity for the realization of the Great India Dream. Sadly, the Modi government has proved and shown its inexperience and incompetence when dealing with economic matters. Their mastery over winning elections and toppling state governments is well established and proven. However, while that may allow a consolidation of social power and a dominance of religious beliefs – it does not feed the stomachs or the aspirations of the poor and the middle class. The disastrous demonetisation of November 2016, not only aborted the trajectory of an economy that was about to take off after a great kharif crop in 2016, but rolled back the clock on gains made by small businesses and farmers by adding to their debt levels due to a frozen, cashless economy. The GST is, in my view a fundamentally flawed policy authored by the Congress and, sadly, adopted by the BJP. Furthermore, the penchant for issuing one circular a week for two years to explain GST highlights the lack of understanding by the policy makers of the reality of business and also adds heft to my basic premise that GST is a flawed policy because it hurts the smaller companies and limits the flexibility of every state to create its own business plan. Given the distortions that exist in the reality and perception of India – either bullish or bearish – my travels will continue, subject to COVID!Indian economy was already passing through a very bad phase when the pandemic hit the country. How do you view the current situation?Clearly, the Demonetisation of 2016, the GST of 2017, the collapse of IL&FS of 2018 and the continued support by the political class of the real estate sector – which supports zombie ghost buildings and prevents markets from functioning - has led to a sharp slowdown in the Indian economy and a near-freeze of the banking system for over 2 years. The unexpected COVID has hit a death-blow to India from a social and economic perspective. Rather than stepping in to send the patient to the ICU, the central government is busy spending money on a new Parliament complex and, in Mumbai, the state and municipal government is spending 100x more on a coastal road being built for 50,000 cars rather than hospital beds which are needed for millions. The mutual fund industry got a Rs 50,000 crore bailout from the RBI within 48 hours of the Franklin Templeton debacle and has access to bank loans. The migrant workers are still finding and self-funding their way back to their villages and the Atmannirbhar is now a fancy word for a more blunt “you are on your own – the government has deserted you” state of mind. In a recent article I pointed out that less than 5% of companies may have cash to pay salaries for 6 months – by the time you add interest payments and other fixed costs, companies will not have the ability to survive this unnecessarily long lockdown. Basically, the lockdown was a failure of the central government to plan and the states that have done well are those with better local governments. Maharashtra and Gujarat were failed models and Karnataka and Kerala, to name a few, had successful plans. Multinationals looking to relocate to India will be haunted by the images of the migrant workers and of the bungling by certain states, including the failure of the Gujarat model and the confusion of the Maharashtra government. When an MNC is trying to de-risk its supply chain, it will not seek another risky host state!The government’s stimulus package seems to have disappointed almost everyone. How do you rate the government's efforts to revive the economy?The government remains clueless on policy. While its citizens are dying, it is worrying about fiscal deficits. The government has now evolved a class partition within migrants. The more successful migrants like fund managers get a bail out, some migrants may sit at home and raise thousands of crores in rights issues supported by government agencies and public money, the less successful get to walk 600 km to reach their villages and can audition for a TV series on Survival. Indian industrialists continue to give their standard “8 on 10” for every useless policy from any government. The only thing that will work now is a direct transfer of 4% of GDP or Rs 9 lakh crore - sending Rs 10,000 per month for 6 months to 150 million households in India. We need to rescue the largest and most distressed people in our society. The BJP government has done a fantastic job of accelerating the programmes started by the UPA: MNREGA and the Jan Dhan accounts. Now is the time to activate this facility and use it as a safety net for society. Keep in mind that 4% of GDP given to the poor will lead to consumption – that will boost the recovery of the economy, of society, and mitigate the human tragedy to some extent. Having LIC subscribe to a rights issue of Reliance or a Bharti does not help the economy – it helps those specific companies and their shareholders.The great Indian middle class is facing serious threat due to the Covid-19 pandemic. A lot of job cuts and pay cuts are threatening the very existence of the middle class. Will it further dent the consumption story?Since 2009, a sample of 180 listed companies sourced from Equitymaster had profits of Rs 29 trillion (Rs 29 lakh crore) and paid out 63% of that as dividends of Rs 18 trillion. If they had kept aside a 20% reserve pool – for bad times such as a drought year or a COVID pandemic – they would have had internal reserves to pay salaries for up to 4 months without seeking alms from the government. The certainty of the salary cheque for middle class and lower class India would have been a huge morale booster and allowed a quick recovery from urban India. In the 1980s I criticized corporate India for being inefficient and sleepy and helped import the concepts of financial discipline and efficiency that came along with the fund flows from foreign portfolio investors. Alas, today, we live in the era of companies focused on quarterly profits and maximizing shareholder value and suppressing their duty to look after the human capital that actually makes the company profitable. With the exception of the glorified CEO and senior managers who are paid too much money. An economy is only as strong as the depth and breadth of the middle class and aspiring lower classes. COVID has shown how we have little respect for this backbone of future prosperity.Even their investments are not in great shape. Debt mutual funds have completely betrayed the trust of investors. First, it was a series of downgrades and defaults, now a mutual fund just shut its debt schemes to tide over a difficult situation. Many mutual fund investors have started saying mutual funds sahi nahi hai. As an outspoken critic of the industry, what is your take on the industry?I could write – and probably should write – a book on how the mutual fund industry has become the prime example of a great idea gone wrong. Conceptually, the mutual fund is a great way for most people to invest their savings in the financial markets. Sadly, SEBI uses capital requirements as a filter to separate the crooked from the good. And look where we are. In 2005 investors were mis-sold the BRIC story and the damage to their portfolios after 2008, caused investors to shy away from mutual funds until Prime Minister Modi brought a renewed sense of vigour to the Indian economy. Though the economic promise was not delivered, the confidence and faith saw more inflows into mutual funds in the past 5 years than in the previous 22 years. All this means is that, sadly, the CEOs and Star Fund Managers of many mutual fund houses rubbed their hands in glee and sold more toxic products to gullible investors. Franklin Templeton is not the only fund house that took wild bets to earn more returns so that they could gather more assets. Look at the facts sheets of the top fund houses in January 2020 and see the games they were playing with investors’ money to gather more assets. It is scandalous and shameful. SEBI should cancel the licenses of these Asset Gathering fund houses. They have proven themselves to be unfit and improper to manage retail money. Let them use their PMS licenses to gamble with the more sophisticated or aware HNI money if they wish. Mutual fund is a sahi vehicle - but investors have to realise that many of these branded fund houses are cowboys shooting from the hip.Many equity mutual fund investors, including seasoned investors, are struggling to make sense of the stock market that is increasingly driven by excess global liquidity. You are lucky if your fund manager is adventurous enough to pay the extra high price for the stocks. How does a value investor like you see the situation?The foundation of my investment experience is built on the “value” style of investment as taught to me by Tom Hansberger, who was a partner of the legendary Sir John Templeton. Over the past 5 years, value has become less relevant as a style of investing. In the US, the technology stocks dominate market movements. In India 3 stocks (HDFC, HDFC Bank, Reliance) accounted for 66% of the gains in the BSE-30 Index between May 2014 till the market peak in January 2020. So it is a concentrated market movement. Knowing that “value investing” may fall out of favour in a changing world we had built the Quantum Equity Fund of Funds which captures styles from large cap to small cap to growth as a complementary to the Quantum Long Term Equity Value Fund. We have, for years, been suggesting that investors allocate their equity across styles by investing 80% in the other styles and 20% in the value style for a blended and smoother return. This formula has worked and I hope people did – and will – try it! The Value Fund was the first fund we launched because that is what we knew well – and then we built teams to identify and build solutions around other styles of investment and other asset classes. Today, with just 8 funds, you can use a building block Lego-style to create a financial solution to match your needs, keeping the Value fund as one portion of your allocation bucket.The underperformance of Quantum Long Term Equity Fund has been a cause of concern for many value investors. Do you think value investing has lost its relevance in the current market scenario? In fact, most value funds have been languishing at the bottom in the last few years. And many investors believe we are again going to see liquidity chasing a few select stocks. Please comment.Value as a style of investing is struggling – worldwide. I see that helping in the near term but the long term benefits of an allocation only to a value fund remains in doubt. After COVID, many companies will be in trouble as they may not have strong balance sheets. So the Value stocks should, generally, have more cash and less debt and have a better chance of survival. After that survival is known and when the economy picks up steam - maybe in the middle of 2021 - then the debate is whether the similar Top 3 stocks will account for 66% of the gains in the future. One needs to recognize that these styles of investment are all like pathways to the divine. There are varied levels of risk in a small cap, mid cap, growth or value approach but they seek the same objective: returns. Personally, I have a blended portfolio with the Equity Fund of Funds and the Value Fund and suggest that investors should consider that.Be sensible, be safe, and be diversified. This was the advice you had given to ETMutualFunds.com readers in the last interview. (Read: We have done all that we said we would do) Does the advice remain the same?Yes, the returns you seek is not an end in itself, made in isolation. The returns an investor seeks is an objective to achieve a future goal. No one has any idea which asset class will do well in a one, three or five year period. Therefore, you must have your safe money in liquid funds, your money for future needs in equity funds and your insurance in gold savings funds. Quantum MF has built these simple solutions methodically, brick by brick. My savings are housed there! from Economic Times https://ift.tt/3hAIvUa

#News #Economy #COVID19

[ecotone99]

[MS] Just wrote and expanded my first ever short story. I'm really proud of this one. I would love any feedback you have!

It was an exciting day in the Village, as the Sound House, the main concert venue, pulsed. Its veins were electronica. Its heart and soul? The local punk band, Careerist, a post-punk band gone rogue. Its lead artist, instrumentalist and most notably accordionist Dale Coop was blaring a sweet melody about coffee and donuts through his aching windpipes. A flabbergasted crowd of 10 or so looked on in adoration, as Dale's sweet harmonics fused with the wails of the audience to create an orgasmic resonance. One of these audience members was Brick, a bright young upstart bopping to the ferocious power chords let off by the wild guitars. With one well-placed yelp, a "Woo", Brick unknowingly made a key contribution to Careerist's zeitgeist; the sound waves bounced off Brick's balding head into the ceiling, unleashing a shockwave throughout The Village that even rattled The Village's Spire. "I'm losin' tooouch", Careerist careened in unison, and Brick's best friend Shelton crooned with them; he was much more into the back catalogue of Careerist, in their notorious fan-christened DRK AGE. Shelton initially followed them, his ears perking in curiosity, because of their notorious pro-police agenda; back then, even their name endorsed the tyrannical Peelers, who routinely raided The Village in search of an apple with a somewhat.. unconventional form of icing sugar drifting atop. As his mind drifted, Shelton recalled a somewhat legendary incident the week beforehand wherein a 107 year old man was arrested on suspicion of heroin possession AND illegal, um, operation of a laundromat? As Shelton questioned his memory, Careerist finished their line, wailing, "I don't know what I'm feelin' anymoooore!" After the show finished, and the nearly dozens of people pooled out like a liquid made of human flesh, Brick cornered the fledgeling band. "Hey." He stopped them. "Yes?" barked their bass player, the sexy Tom. He flicked his cascading fringe to the side as he spoke through sunken eyes and black lips, no doubt enhanced by his legendary €5,000 lip growth surgery. "Steyer, right?" Brick said, in a decidedly Trumpish manner. "Yeah, it's Tom Steyer, but you can call me Tommy Steyer." He flashed a perfect grin. "Or Tommy, for short." "You are like Stan." Brick challenged them boldly and brazenly. Tommy looked at Brick with a mixture of surprise, shock and disgust. The band's hulking drummer, however, froze in his tracks. He slowly turned his buldging neck to face the young, soy-filled man challenging the band. His beady eyes quickly scanned the poor bastard's face, noting a lack of facial hair, as though it had never been able to sprout. "Uh oh". Tommy flashed a wicked smirk, catching Dale off guard and causing him to slip clumsily down the stairs. "Boot's angry...!" Boot 'The Boot' Edge turned and displayed his dominance clearly to the hapless Brick. "Who," he bellowed, "the fuck do you think you are? Mucker?" "Me!" Brick shouted. He looked like he had shat a brick. "Do you know Stan? From Eminem? Yeah. You are similar to him - and also to pottery. Dude. Yeah..." Brick's voice retreated into a squeak inaudible to human perception as he stared at Boot's hudge buldge and the terrifying build-up to his Scott Pilgrim style attack. With a warrior cry, Boot swung his mighty fist towards the shiny target that was Brick's swollen enormous head. With one mighty crack, his fist smote Brick's puny cranial matter. The impact sent a shockwave encircling his head, and what little hair he had left wafted off like trees in the face of a mighty asteroid; his head was left like a freshly waxed bowling ball, entirely round and with a few holes. As he fell over, a gentleman walked by and offered his opinion: "That kid be concussed, yo!" Boot roared at the fellow, "Fuck you dude", waving his arms. He left Brick's increasingly wavering vision. The last thing Brick saw that night was Shelton's concerned corneas gazing deep within his rapidly dilating pupils, as his vision faded to black.

***

Brick's eyes slowly peeled open; he could witness only a blurry facsimile of the real world. Only his best friend, Shelton Harry, was visible to him. "Mr. Lloyd?" he heard, muffled as though through a wall of icy foam. "Mr. Lloyd?" This time, it sounded clearer, as though projected through a Fender subwoofer. His favourite brand, Brick thought to himself. His favourite... brand? He was back. He was in the real world again. The Latina nurse bungled over whilst singing a familiar song. Brick could piece together small snippets from her beautiful wailing... "Fiesta".... he heard.... "Salsa, Quinceañera..." As he squinted towards the busty Latina, he whispered to himself, "Lunch..." he realised he was starving. The stout nurse noticed his heed, and promptly negotiated with another, more rotund nurse. He caught a glimpse of her name badge: "Mrs. Rodriguez". The rotund nurse promptly returned with a chicken, mayo and avocado bap. Man, oh man, Brick thought. That hits the spot. He salivated over the thought of the lovely chicken mayo slathering his throat, the avocado a fortified wall of flavour around his mouth. As she rushed over to Brick holding the plate with the food, Brick shouted, "Wait! Wait! Slow down, please!" But it was too late. The Nurse toppled over a lopsided chair, scattering the contents of the sandwich across Brick's hapless face. He yelped once again, a warbling cry far beyond the frequency of human hearing. An unfamiliar sensation crossed his facial skin. Something about the bones underneath felt... different. As he touched his face, fingers parting the sea of mayo and avocado, he came across an alien mound in the center of his visage. His nose felt... bigger, somehow, as though the nurses had slightly increased its size. His jawline felt more prominent. "Well, there goes my Chincel Subforum membership privileges", he quipped, and the entire ward erupted in a sea of laughter, the ocean of sustained noise breaking the sound barrier and destroying the glass apparatus protecting the delicate ward from the plagues and blizzards outside. Mrs. Rodriguez was swept off her feet as she flew out the window on what seemed like the tenth story of the building; the doppler effect ruined her beautiful melody as it transformed into a deathly scream. That scream would haunt Brick for the rest of the foreseeable future. Shelton grabbed his hand, linking their delicate arms together and quickly cupping his own ears to protect his valuable inner ear canals. He quickly ran to the in-house escalator, which descended in a dizzying spiral. The steel steps of the escalator vibrated and shook their feet to the bone, creating another harmonic resonance that gave Shelton a great sensual feeling in his spine. They finally reached the bottom floor of the Gorgeous Man Hospital in South Side Colorado, that they had been shipped to weeks ago. The deafening chorus of glee from floors above had subsumed into a low throbbing bass, and they were finally able to get their bearings. From the corner of his eye, Shelton spotted the decaying, weak body of a great rock hero he had once admired. He let go of the now-recovering Brick to pay his idol a visit. As he approached the body, a doctor with delectable skin like caramel chocolate and a bald head like the finest ceramic sphere stopped him dead in his tracks. "I'm sorry sir, but Mr. Berry is so incredibly frail that going within 10 meters of him will cause you to die in a matter of years, through the vortexes in the air created through the pockets of air still contained within his skin." Brick maintained a flabbergasted expression, before switching to an expression of joy, before switching to an expression of disgust, before switching to an expression of confusion, before switching to an expression of sombre reflection. "Who the fuck are you?" he wailed into the void, possibly to himself, possibly to the declining star on the bed. He didn't quite know anymore. The doctor said, "My name is Dr. Parkerman." Brick's expression quickly turned sour, and he ripped off his own scrubs, exposing his nubile skin and hairless chest to the entire floor. His expression turned innocent for a moment, and he gently eased his head into the doctor's chest; a singular tear rolled down his cheek, as he explained, "My father's uncle... he was a doctor. Pretty good too, but one time... he..." Brick exploded into a barrage of tears, piercing the doctor's skin like machine gun fire. Dr. Parkerman backed off with a dead look in his eyes, robotically brandishing a revolver. "You're a sick man", he shouted. "You're a sick man. Get the fuck away from me." He cocked the revolver but Shelton screamed, "NOOOOO", and dramatically leapt into the path of the speeding bullet, lodging itself firmly in his thumb. Shelton was blown back several yards by the impact of the bullet. He lay on the floor, convulsing and withering, as Brick screamed haplessly in an embarrassingly womanly tone. He lay there, atop Brick's chest, crying healing tears; his sobs had no effect as Shelton's final breaths escaped his plump lips.

***

Part 2 coming soon.

submitted by /u/awesomeaddict [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/32dJRg7

#Blogger #Story

[petlover18-blog1]

Dear Pammy, Can my Only Cat adjust to another cat?

New Post has been published on https://www.petlovers.shovelnews.com/dear-pammy-can-my-only-cat-adjust-to-another-cat/

Dear Pammy, Can my Only Cat adjust to another cat?

A reader writes:

I have a eight/nine month old cat named R- and my roommate has a 7/8 year old cat named M—. Both are fixed and have very similar personalities (R—’s a bit more active since she’s still very young) very laid back and just like being loved on.

So R—‘s been living in our new home for about two/three weeks and M— just moved in about a week ago. M—‘s not skittish, but you can tell she’s not quite comfortable with her surroundings just yet, since she doesn’t meander out of my roommate’s room.

My issue is that my roommate informed me that R— won’t let M- out of the room. She just sits there and stares at her but will run away if M- hisses at her. I guess one day she was under my roommate’s bed and she wouldn’t budge, no matter how much my roommate tried coaxing her from underneath her bed.

R- was adopted from the local SPCA and I was told that she doesn’t do well with other cats, granted with how young she was when I adopted her, I feel like she just hasn’t been given the chance to be socialized with other cats.

My roommate has informed me that R- isn’t acting aggressive, but we’re both worried since M- doesn’t really come out of her room and we’re not sure why. I have a few ideas, but I’m not a cat expert and I’m worried about both cats.

Dear Readers,

In these days of shared housing, the issue of shared cats is bound to come up. What will give us the edge in such situations is that cats want to be social creatures. When their environment supports it.

The same could be said of us. We all enjoy social contact, until we don’t enjoy social contact. Here are the factors which affect the cat’s attitude, and how we can adjust it.

genetic heritage

By the random roll of nature’s dice, some cats are going to be more open to shared living. Curious Alpha Cat Types are better prospects than cautious Gamma Cat Types, with social Beta Cat Types being the most open of all.

Their reactions to stress are a major factor, and this is also genetically related. Any cat whose caution outweighs their curiosity will need to take a slower pace. This is where humans often bungle things, as in this situation, where I explained to R-‘s person that it seemed like they had skipped Introductions. I outlined how to help fix that with Territory Therapy.

The human view of things is from a little plane soaring over the landscape. We have more information and a broader perspective. Our cats are on the ground, seeing only what is in front of them, and unable to know where different paths might wind up. We have to give them the time to explore this new development at their own pace.

Find out more about social behavior by Cat Type.

sum of experience

But even more important is how our cat’s socialization has developed. My little Puffy was very Gamma, but he lived happily among many cats, and as he grew older, Reverend Jim patiently became his friend. So a cat’s experiences have great power.

This goes triple if those experiences were bad ones. Stress, the great multiplier, translates one unhappy cat incident into something that takes up a lot of the Cat Database. The sadly common circumstances of kittens struggling to survive can create an Only Cat.

Some Only Cats can be rehabilitated. My advice to this reader was:

I would first lower her stress by keeping her in your room, and not letting the other cat in. If she leaves the room, she should either be supervised, or M- is locked in HER room.

They aren’t allowed in each other’s room. Period. This will help them get comfortable with their own territory.

Play with the other cat and then let the other cat sniff the Stranger on their person. This will help them feel more comfortable with the Stranger.

As so often, I didn’t hear back. But I have come to realize a lack of followup tends to mean success. I’m okay with that.

The essentals to smoothing cat conflicts are being happy about progress, patient about setbacks, and consistent about being the Boss of Cat Town.

Our feedback is vitally important to our cat’s perception of the situation. No matter what that situation may be.

➤Thanks for stopping by! My NEW book The Way of Cats: How to use their instincts to train, understand, and love them is available for Kindle. Find me on FACEBOOK or join me on TWITTER. Sign up for monthly eNewsletter to get my FREE eBook, Ten Cat Tricks (Every Human Should Know.) Need help fast? Book a Cat Consultation. Source: https://www.wayofcats.com/blog/dear-pammy-can-my-only-cat-adjust-to-another-cat/33827

[howtoclearielts-blog]

How to score good band in IELTS?

1. Regardless of anything else, guarantee you LISTEN to the record, don't just HEAR it. A fundamental refinement among LISTENING and HEARING is that the segment of ATTENTION is missing in hearing. While taking note of inquiries, understudies must listen inside and out to the record instead of scrutinizing the request. Fundamentally, don't READ and LISTEN meanwhile. Preceding the record is played out for you, focus ALL your thought on your booklet. While tuning in to the narrative, on the other hand, direct ALL you keenness with respect to the record because of a request, by the day's end, LISTEN. I even now and again ask for that my understudies NOT look at the request, and rather to JUST LISTEN to avoid redirection.

http://skillsgrow.com/

2. Another essential point you need to recall is that you don't need to answer ALL the request to get a better than average score. If you make sense of how to answer even 30 out of 40 questions, you can at the show get a 7, which is a high score. Remember that the level of inconvenience of request contrast in the IELTS Test (in both Listening and Reading regions). To the degree Listening is stressed, for instance, FIVE requests are hard to the point that solitary those hopefuls going for a band 8, 8.5 or 9 can answer them. The questionable part is that these testing questions are RANDOMLY and clearly CLEVERLY appropriated in order to redirect test takers. A sharp and productive candidate is one who does not allow a troublesome request to make him/her lose the track of the sound. My point – if you miss one request, even two, don't PANIC. They are most probably WAY finished your level. Rapidly RECOVER so you don't miss the request you are prepared for overseeing. Make an effort not to allow troublesome request to have a DOMINO EFFECT on your general execution.

Why we need to clear IELTS test?

3. Remembering the ultimate objective to extend your score and better your execution, you need to constrain your bungles in Section 1. Numerous contenders, even with an attractive level of posting limit, perform deficiently here, essentially in light of the way that it is the VERY first portion of the Listening test. To manage your apprehension, and along these lines grow your execution, do PLENTY of preparing tests and criticism tests. Practice NUMBERS and DICTATION. Develop a structure. Find a summary of words that are a significant part of the time used. I've thought of a magnificent and without question fire structure: PDM (Pronunciation, Dictation, Meaning). If you find a word testing with respect to PRONUNCIATION, check it P. For this circumstance, Later when you suggest it, the P prompts you that you encountered issues articulating that word right. A comparable thing can be associated with DICTATION (D) and MEANING (M).

4. A negative issue for by a long shot a large portion of hopefuls, paying little notice to their listening limit, is point of fact Multiple Choice Questions (MCQs), which routinely appear in Section 3 of the IELTS Test. This sort of question radiates an impression of being striving for different reasons.

Regardless of anything else, candidates don't have time for examining each one of the requests and their choices. This gets impressively all the more troublesome with the request with long answer decisions. The plan? Put aside a couple of minutes. Instead of wasting your valuable time REREADING request in Section 1 and Section 2, spending design your possibility so you have enough time to scrutinize and re-read request in Sections 3 and 4. Be no not exactly perhaps two or three ventures AHEAD of the annual, possibly. Use the time you are given for the completion of each fragment to set yourself up for the request in the going with the portion.

What is the difference between LISTENING, HEARING?

A minute inspiration driving why MCQs challenge candidates have again to do with LISTENING and HEARING. An epic mistake numerous hopefuls make while taking note of this sort of request is that, while the narrative is played out, they keep RE-READING the decisions. They trust they are tuning in to the narrative, while, truth be told, they are not; they are HEARING. Do whatever it takes not to submit a comparable mistake. Guarantee you have recently scrutinized, fathomed and underlined the key parts of each decision. Hold up until the speaker(s) is/are finished talking about a request and a while later pick which decision fits better. An awesome misunderstanding is that hopefuls try to pick the correct option, while the speaker(s) is up 'til now giving information around a request. Hold up till he/she is done and after that pick quickly.

Remember that a without question fire way to deal with connecting at the correct answer is by discarding distinctive choices. The decisions that we don't require are

the ones which are too much clear and basic. Make an effort not to pick any option just because it contains a word you heard on the record. Most requests in Section 3 are INFERENTIAL, inferring that they are not DIRECTLY determined. So pay special mind to excessively straightforward and clear options. They are no doubt the ones you won't require.

the ones which are in arrange intelligent irregularity with the record. In all cases, one or even two choices out of three are REJECTED, so by being careful of such decisions and slaughtering them, you can expand your shot of finding the correct answer.

the ones which are determined meanwhile. When in doubt, two out of three decisions in MCQs are indicated in the account, using a connector (AND, ALONG WITH, et cetera.) Just think about the way that when it happens, for example, answers An and C are said in an unfaltering movement with a connector, verify that neither of them is the correct answer.

5. One all the all the more thing: watch SERIES and LISTEN TO ENGLISH music. It WORKS WONDERS. The instructional advantage of watching the course of action is essentially more than that of watching films for some fundamental reasons:

Various movies contain a huge amount of establishment bustle, which a couple of understudies find occupying.

There are more talked in plan appeared differently in relation to films.

Watching plan makes a notion SUSPENSE in the watcher, which urges understudies to take after interchange scenes of their most adored game plan. This will along these lines realize all the all the more learning open entryways.

Consequent to survey a specific game plan, watchers develop a sentiment sensitivity for a couple of characters and get acquainted with their viewpoint. This assumption understanding and holding can realize better perception.

I believe you find these few clues supportive. I'm sure with enough dedication, full focus, care and heading, your listening score can without quite a bit of an extent be made to progress."

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