Kungfunurse

For example a bluebird is a bird that is blue. A birdblue would I suppose be a blue that is bird but it certainly doesn’t mean the same thing as bluebird whatever it is.

An airplane is a plane that is in the air. A planeair just isn’t anything. Maybe it would be the air inside of a plane.

Or perhaps it would be plane air with a space in it. Because we kind of just make compound words all the time like Germans do but sometimes we put a space in there. Where you put the space kind of doesn’t stop it from being a compound word.

Captain Wentworth thinks there is nothing so proper as going down on Anne. Henry Tilney? You cannot doubt. Charles Bingley? Jane would be completely embarrassed but he'll talk her into it. Elizabeth needs to bring Darcy around but we know she can do it. Edward would go on his knees for Elinor. Colonel Brandon needs to protect his knees but Marianne doesn't even make a single old age joke about it. Emma can ask for what she wants but Fanny Price...

Fanny Price takes what she is given and expresses endless gratitude. And while Edmund is perceptive, he was the only one to help when she couldn't write home to her brother, he bought her the chain when she needed something for her cross... he also has this quietly selfish quality to him (the Portsmouth letter that doesn't ask anything about her and "Fanny think of me!") and a penchant for expecting Fanny to be his mirror and go along with all his expectations ("asking" for advice about joining the play and their conversation about Henry's proposal) which leaves me absolutely certain that he will just do whatever satisfies himself in bed and never think about giving Fanny anything more. And she'll be content, just like she was with his half-written little note and the endless useless gifts from Tom, and never understand that she could have so much more. Mary Crawford could have gotten head out of Edmund, but never Fanny Price.

And yes, I know I know, it was the Regency times, women are not basing their happiness on their expectation for orgasms but I can still want the very best things for them can't I?

(I want this for entirely selfish Edmund-hating reasons)

Also, you might really like this fic where Fanny marries Tom and Edmund is soooo Edmund about it:

America's Day Off - (2026)

There were years when Yusuf prayed five times a day, and years when he did not. It became easier to contemplate a universe of vast unpredictability as they learned one another’s speech. In lands where churches dotted the landscapes, Nicolo avoided even their shadows in the dust, and ducked in more than one alley to dodge proselytizers of myriad stripes. “I do not know,” he would offer when Yusuf asked him what he believed. “My mind cannot settle.” And this seemed explanation enough when they kept on dying and rising to life.

And then, too many years to count from their forging, Nicolo ducked into a church and left Yusuf to sit in the square, watching the townspeople pass. Nico was gone for some time, time enough to pray, to light a candle, to do whatever it was he felt moved to do, but when he reappeared he still seemed troubled, his brow furrowed as he chewed on his lip.

He sat beside Yusuf on the low stone wall he had claimed for a seat and said nothing for a while. Around them people greeted their neighbors, hurried toward the market, shooed away the pigeons. There was birdsong and the sound of children laughing, and Yusuf could not find it in himself to be startled when Nico took his hand.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Yusuf asked, nodding toward the church.

The Vessel switches off their location-transmission devices, thereby making themselves a HAZARD TO MARITIME NAVIGATION, in order to ENGAGE IN ILLEGAL ACTS.

The Vessel is FRAUDULENTLY DISPLAYING a national flag that is NOT OF THEIR REGISTERED PORT OF ORIGIN.

The Vessel is otherwise engaged in ACTS THAT VIOLATE SOLEMN MARITIME LAW, and may face fines and prosecution in admiralty court for their offense in their port of origin or nation in which the offense was registered.

Queen! Belt out a banger of a turnmaxing moid

Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns

Tell me about a complicated man. Muse, [...]

who highkey through savage sidequests toughed it

driven time and again off course, [...]

tell me how he wandered and was lost

after chopping Troy-town to dogfood deadass

once he had plundered the hallowed heights of Troy.

when he had wrecked the holy town of Troy,

Sailed through sick storms and dealt with dramas

Many cities of men he saw and learned their minds many pains he suffered, heartsick on the open sea,

and where he went, and who he met, the pain he suffered in the storms at sea, and how

Locked in to lead his fam to a homey safe space

fighting to save his life and bring his comrades home.

he worked to save his life and bring his men back home.

Talk of the trips and trenches, the sus opps he faced how the GOAT cooked and vibed with the randos though he lowkey took the L on that mission when his bros

But he could not save them from disaster, hard as he strove – the recklessness of their own ways destroyed them all,

He failed to keep them safe; poor fools,

Like NPCS blundered badly to beef with the big G

the blind fools, they devoured the cattle of the Sun

they ate the Sun God’s cattle, and the god

and got ghosted, permablocked, cooked completely.

and the Sungod blotted out the day of their return. . . .

kept them from home. . . .