#I actually really like the style it was written in for the professor's parts. the language would get so much more impersonal

[melancholydonuts]

do any of you miserable hooligans remember the treadstone agent that bourne kills at the end of the first movie. Wiki calls him The Professor. I remember him. I watched the bourne movies first with my dad when i was like. 11 or something idk. i understood almost none of it. but you know who stuck with me? the FUCKING GLASSES MAN. I was sad when he died. Bro showed up for a total of 3 minutes AND tried to kill the title character (whom i love). And i was so sad.

I've been obsessed with the professor for as long as Ive known he exists. AND THEY REPEATED HIS LINE IN THE LAST MOVIEE OOOOH. He had such an impact. I wanted him and bourne to sit and have tea together or something. Honestly just any two Treadstone Assets sitting together and chit chatting would be enough.

[alisonsfics]

guest lecturer - part two

pairing: tyler owens x student!reader

summary: when tyler owens shows up in our meteorology class to give a guest lecture, you are left just as speechless as all the other girls. but, tyler is just as awestruck by you.

word count: 3.8k

part 1

Ever since accepting the internship with Tyler, you’d been an anxious mess.

You were overthinking everything. Why did he want you specifically? Did that mean he was actually into you? Or was it just because you were smart and capable?

You spent many sleepless nights wondering how he felt about you. You had no idea if he was actually attracted to you or if you were just a one time, spur of the moment decision.

A few days after you told Dr. Hannigan that you’d accept the internship, you got a text from Tyler. He’d somehow gotten your number from Dr. Hannigan.

He didn’t even have to mention his name for you to know it was him.

Unknown number: “They say spring break can get pretty crazy ;)”

You: “Tyler?!?”

Unknown number: “You already know me so well, gorgeous”

That was the last time you’d talked to him.

You didn’t want to embarrass yourself. So, while it would have been clear to anyone else that he was into you, you found yourself doubting it.

Somehow, you convinced yourself it was just flirty banter. So, you didn’t attempt to reciprocate it.

Normally, you had no problem knowing a guy was into you. Something about Tyler made you feel like an oblivious schoolgirl. You were mortified by even the possibility of humiliating yourself in front of him.

But you allowed yourself a pinch of optimism, and you packed your cutest bras in case that was where the week took you. You also picked out an outfit that was the perfect mix of cute and revealing to wear on the plane, since it would be the first time Tyler had seen you in a month.

When the plane landed, you could feel your nerves coursing through you. You anxiously tapped your fingers against your thigh. Normally, you were a pretty patient person, but not when you knew Tyler Owens was waiting for you on the other side of the airport.

You stared up at the seatbelt sign, hoping you could psychically make it turn off. Instead, the light seemed to mock you.

All you could think about was Tyler. You were excited to see his reaction to seeing you again. The possibilities seemed endless, which excited you.

You smoothed out your jeans and your tight tank top. It felt a little more western than your usual style, but you figured it would be appropriate for Oklahoma. As an added bonus, you hoped Tyler would like it.

You were brought out of your thoughts by the beep of the seatbelt sign turning off. You practically leapt up from your seat. You snatched your suitcase and managed to be one of the first people off the plane.

You were practically running through the airport. You didn’t know what was in store for this week, but you were eager for it to begin.

Your eyes scanned around the pickup area. You saw dozens of people waiting to pick up their family members. You searched for that all too familiar set of green eyes.

Over the chatter of dozens of conversations, you heard someone call out your name.

Your eyes snapped to where the noise came from. Instead of finding a certain cowboy meeting your gaze, you saw a woman.

Her dirty blonde hair was thrown up into a ponytail. Your confusion was written all over your face, so she smiled at you and waved you over.

“Hi, I’m Kate. I work with Tyler. He asked me to come pick you up.” She said, shaking your hand.

“Ohhh okay. Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.” You said, failing to hide the disappointment in your voice.

You felt like such an idiot.

You had really been convinced Tyler was going to pick you up. The small amount of hope you’d been holding onto left your body. You felt like you had misread this entire situation.

You should’ve known it was stupid to assume Tyler invited you to continue whatever happened in your professor’s office. This wasn’t personal. This was purely academic, and you were just the best candidate for the internship.

If he’d been into you, he would’ve been at the airport.

You felt mortified.

“Oh god, you were expecting Tyler, weren’t you? I’m so sorry.” Kate quickly apologized, picking up on your disappointment. You shook your head. “No, you don’t have to apologize. I was just being stupid.” You said, trying to hide your embarrassment.

All you wanted to do was hop on a plane and go back home.

Kate probably thought you were so pathetic. You just hoped she didn’t mention any of this to Tyler.

“No, it wasn’t stupid. Tyler really wants to work with you. He hasn’t shut up about your midterm paper in weeks. He said you’re one of the smartest people he’s ever met. Something came up today. That’s the only reason he’s not here to pick you up himself, I promise.” Kate told you.

You appreciated the sentiment, but you were pretty sure she was just trying to save your feelings.

The ride to their base camp was long. You and Kate talked about your studies and some of the experiments she was working on. But you were still overthinking everything.

She pulled the truck into the parking lot of a motel alongside a big camp of other trucks. You noticed a bar and a diner across the street from the motel.

You both got out of the truck, and you grabbed your suitcase from the back. “Here you go. I think you’re in room 261.” Kate said, handing you a key.

“Hey, Kate! You’re back.” You heard someone exclaim. You glanced over your shoulder and saw two guys walking towards you. Kate waved at the two men and gave them both hugs.

“You must be Y/N. I’m Javi, and this is Boone. Tyler’s told us a lot about you.” The one man greeted you. Before you could respond, Boone stood a step closer to you. “He didn’t mention how pretty you are.” Boone said, slowly shaking your hand.

Javi quickly pulled Boone backwards. “Why don’t you go get settled in your room? We were all planning on going to the bar tonight? I can come get you later.” Kate suggested, guiding you towards the motel.

As you walked away, you saw Javi elbow Boone in the side. “Come on, man, you remember what Tyler said, she’s off limits.” You heard him whisper.

You felt your stomach do a flip as you processed what he said. Tyler banning his friends from flirting with you had to mean something.

After you found your room, you flopped backwards onto the bed. Thoughts of Tyler swirled around your head. You wondered where he was and when you would see him.

As if on cue, you heard a loud truck outside with the radio blaring.

You walked over to the window and peeked out the curtains. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the big red truck pulling into the parking lot.

Tyler climbed out of the truck, running a hand through his perfectly messy hair. You felt a shudder run through you as he placed his cowboy hat on his head.

Tyler wasn’t your usual type, but there was something about him.

You wanted to run out and talk to him, but he’d know you’d been watching him, and you didn’t want him to think you were desperate.

You couldn’t help but admire his biceps as he lifted some equipment out of the bed of his truck. You watched him for longer than you cared to admit.

You remembered Kate said you were all going to the bar later tonight. You started to dig through your suitcase to pick out an outfit.

You grabbed a high-waisted pair of jean shorts that made your ass look great. You paired them with the black cowboy boots you brought, along with a lacy black tank top.

You also weren’t ashamed to admit you had a sexy red lace bra and panty set on underneath. You jumped when you heard a knock at your door. You quickly put on a cute flannel and grabbed your phone.

You opened the door and saw Kate. “You ready to go?” She asked you. You eagerly nodded and closed the door behind you.

You noticed yourself constantly looking around and over your shoulder for Tyler. Kate noticed too, but didn’t mention it.

You both immediately spotted Boone and Javi at the bar. They quickly waved you over. “Come on, ladies. We’re doing shots.” Javi said.

Before you could question it, they handed you and Kate both a shot. The four of you clinked your glasses together and downed the shot. You winced and clenched your fist as you swallowed.

“Oh, fuck. Was that tequila? Can’t have too many of those or I’ll get fucked up.” You said, earning a chuckle from Kate.

“Now, that I’d like to see.” You heard a deep voice say from behind you.

You spun around to see who was talking to you. You didn’t really need to look. You already recognized the cologne.

Then, you saw those green eyes staring back at you. You could feel your eyes go wide, and your heart start to beat faster. “Oh, fuck,” you mumbled under your breath.

Tyler was the only one that heard it. The smirk on his face was all the confirmation you needed that he’d heard you.

“So, how’s the smartest girl I know?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. You quickly nodded your head, as an incoherent string of words left your mouth. “Yeah, no— uh huh. I’ve be— been good.” You mumbled.

He pulled you in for a quick hug. “I’m still makin’ you nervous, gorgeous?” He whispered in your ear as he hugged you. Goosebumps spread down your arms.

You both were completely aware of the way Boone, Javi, and Kate were all staring at the two of you. It didn’t take a genius to see the tension between you and Tyler.

Tyler licked his lips as he looked you up and down. He wanted to take in every inch of you. The way your shorts hugged your hips. Your shiny lipgloss, more specifically how bad he wanted to see it messily smeared across your lips.

The one thought he kept coming back to was how much better you’d look in his hat.

“I’m glad you were able to come.” He said, smiling down at you. You hadn’t remembered how tall he was. “Yeah, I’ll bet you’re glad.” Javi muttered under his breath with a smirk.

“C’mon, let’s go talk.” He said, gesturing towards the other side of the bar. His hand landed on the small of your back as he led you across the room.

With his large hand pressed against your back, you couldn’t help recall how effortlessly he’d picked you up and set you on the desk. You pushed away the thought and the warm feeling in your stomach that accompanied it.

“I meant it before. I’m really excited to work with you. We have some exciting tests and stuff that I think you’ll enjoy.” Tyler said, twirling you around so you faced him.

“I’m really grateful for the opportunity.” You said, smiling up at him. You were wracking your brain for anything else you could say, but your mind had gone blank.

“You’re saying it like I’m doing you a favor. You earned this. Dr. Hannigan sent me a bunch of your work. You’re fucking brilliant.” Tyler told you.

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. Before Tyler could say anything else, he froze, and his eyes locked on yours. He reached his hand towards you and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, waiting for his next move.

He softly interlaced his fingers with yours and pulled you towards the dance floor. He pulled you backwards into his chest until you both were pressed up against each other. His hot breath ran down your neck, giving you chills.

He confidently stretched his hand across your stomach. He was marking you as his in front of anyone. Every guy in the bar knew not to mess with you if you were with Tyler.

With a rare burst of courage, you grinded your hips back against him. He groaned in your ear. “Oh, fuck, gorgeous,” he mumbled. His voice came out deeper and huskier than you’d ever heard it.

He moved your hair out of the way and started kissing behind your ear. You felt a cocky smirk grow on your face. You knew exactly whose room you were ending up in tonight.

A soft whimper escaped your lips, making Tyler hips rut into you. “You know, I saw you watching me from your room earlier? It took all my self control to not go up to your room.” He whispered in your ear.

The room erupted into gasps, causing you both to separate. Your eyes drifted to the front door where Javi had just tripped over a barstool and fell face first.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me. He’s fucking wasted. I have to bring him back to his room. I will be right back. I promise.” Tyler said, running over to Javi’s side.

You found a stool at the bar to sit at while Tyler was gone. Then, Boone appeared at your side. He reeked of booze, and you could tell he was almost as drunk as Javi. “Hey, Boone. You doing okay?” You asked, gesturing towards the seat next to you.

He plopped himself down and nodded. “I saw you and Tyler getting friendly.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. Your embarrassment rushed to your cheeks. The last thing you wanted was Tyler’s friends thinking you slept with Tyler to get the internship.

“Oh, you saw that?” You asked, nervously. He just chuckled and nodded.

“Don’t worry. He told us all about you and your little spicy time at office hours.” Boone whispered. You felt like your heart skipped a beat. You had full confidence Boone only mentioned it because he was hammered, but that meant Tyler had told him.

Your anxiety and overthinking went into overdrive.

Everything started to click into place for you.

You were his trophy. The hot, young college girl for him to brag about to his friends. He didn’t care about your work or teaching you. He just wanted to get in your pants and show you off to his friends.

“Oh, I’m gonna be sick.” You mumbled, heading for the front door. You felt unbelievably naive. Of course a guy like Tyler would act like this.

You walked across the parking lot, towards your motel room.

“Hey! Wait up, where you goin’?” You heard Tyler call after you.

You ignored him and kept walking, speeding up your pace. “Leave me alone.” You yelled at him over your shoulder when he started to follow you.

You kept walking, ignoring Tyler’s voice. You heard his footsteps speed up as he ran to catch up with you.

He jumped in front of you and put his hands up to stop you. “What’s wrong?” He asked you, confused.

“Why did you invite me here?” You asked him point blank. His expression only became more confused. “What do you mean? I already told you.” He said, furrowing his eyebrows.

Tyler searched your eyes for any idea of why you were so upset. “You told Boone…” you said, softly.

“Told Boone what?” Tyler asked, gently cupping your face. You sighed and pushed his hands off of you. “You told him that we almost hooked up. You didn’t want me here because you think I’m smart. You just wanted to have a hookup with a college girl that you could brag to your friends about.” You said, storming off towards your room.

Tyler could only watch in shock as you walked away.

As soon as you got to your room, you fell onto your bed with your head in your hands. You didn’t know how you were supposed to face Tyler tomorrow morning. You laid there for what felt like hours trying to decide what to do. You debated packing your bags several times.

You were taken out of your thoughts when there was a knock at the door.

You walked over to the door and opened it a crack. You saw a sympathetic Tyler.

“Please, let me explain before you slam the door in my face.” He begged you.

You stepped out of your room and closed the door behind you. “What do you want?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“I promise that our almost-hookup and my attraction to you has nothing to do with why I wanted you to do the internship. I really think you are brilliant. I’m sorry that I told Boone and Javi about us. I only did it because they’re my friends. I didn’t think about it from your perspective and realize they’re people that you’re going to work with professionally. I’m really sorry.” He said, genuinely.

You pursed your lips, thinking about whether you’d accept his apology. Something in his eyes made you want to trust him. “Thank you for that. I’m sorry too. I think I got anxious and started to overthink everything. I've never done anything like this.” You said, honestly.

You could see the relief on Tyler’s face. “C’mere,” he said, leaning in giving a short kiss.

“You know what? I have some baseline readings I need to get before tomorrow. You want to go on a little trip?” He suggested. As soon as you nodded, he swooped you up bridal style and carried you to his truck.

He helped you into the truck before jumping into the drivers seat. You both drove in silence until Tyler got where he wanted to go.

You both got out and walked to the back of the truck. You helped Tyler take some measurements in a peaceful silence. Every few minutes, Tyler would do something goofy to get you to giggle.

After you’d finished the measurements, he lifted you up into the bed of the truck, where he’d set up a blanket. You patted the seat next to you, so Tyler would join you.

“You want to know the best real-world tip I can give you for storms?” He asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You looked over at him, waiting for his answer.

“Gotta listen to the wind and be able to know what’s happening just by listening. Here, I’ll show you.” He told you, opening his toolbox. He grabbed a small towel and carefully tied it over your eyes. “Listen, over to the left. You can hear the pressure shifting.” He whispered softly to you.

“The winds picking up over there.” You said, pointing over to the right side.

“Yep, that’s right, gorgeous. You’re a quick learner. It took me forever to recognize stuff like that.” He told you.

The wind quieted down, and the air felt peaceful. The only noise you could hear was Tyler’s soft breathing. You felt his large palm rest on top of your thigh. “What’re you doing?” You asked, softly.

There was a change in the air.

You felt Tyler’s lips on yours.

His hand cupped the back of your head as he kissed you. You quickly kissed him back. His other hand found your hip and laid you down. A groan escaped his lips as you ran your hands down his back.

Tyler eagerly tugged your flannel off your arms and threw it to the side. You pulled off your blindfold, and then saw Tyler unbuttoning his shirt. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you admired him.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He groaned, as you ran your fingers over his now bare chest. Your hands landed on his belt, quickly unbuckling it. He kicked off his jeans and laid back down on top of you.

“Been dreaming of this for a month,” he told you, leaving sloppy kisses down your chest. He tugged your shirt over your head.

His movements stopped when he caught a glimpse of the dark red lace of your bra. “Wait til you find out it’s a set.” You teased him. Tyler shuddered at the thought.

His grabbed at the belt loops of your shorts and quickly pulled them off your legs. “Eager, cowboy?” You teased. He could feel his pants begin to tighten as he looked down at you. “I’m never gonna forget this.” He mumbled, before burying his face in your neck and sucking on the soft skin.

“You been thinking about finishing what we started? You been lying in bed thinking about that day like I have?” He mumbled against your skin. His hands slid down your sides, stopping on your thighs.

He ran his fingers over the outside of your panties. You let out a soft moan, bucking your hips up against his hand. “Need you,” you begged.

Tyler slid your panties to the side. He ran his finger through your folds, collecting your wetness.

“You’re gonna feel so good, baby,” he almost moaned. You tugged down his boxers enough for his cock to spring out.

“Come on, Tyler, fuck me. I don’t think I can wait much longer.” You begged him.

“Oh, fuck, gorgeous. You’re so needy. I can’t say no to you.” He groaned, grabbing your hips. He lined himself up and pushed into your folds.

You shut your eyes, whimpering as he pushed into you. “I’m ready. I need you to move, please.” You mumbled.

Tyler quickened his pace and started thrusting into you. He roughly grabbed your hips and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your eyes rolled back as he reached even deeper. “Oh, fuck,” he grunted.

You wrapped his hair around your fingers. You screamed out his name, bucking your hips up into his thrusts. “Go ahead, gorgeous. No one can hear you. You can be as loud as you want.” He said, speeding up his thrusts.

You guided one of his hands between your legs. He smirked against the kiss as he started rubbing tight circles against your clit. A high-pitch moan escaped your lips.

“I’m almost there, baby.” He moaned against your lips. You nodded your head. “Me too, oh, fuck,” you moaned.

Your fingers scratched down his back. You felt a tightness in your stomach. “Gotta go faster,” he mumbled, thrusting his whole body into you.

Your back arched against the blanket. Tyler's thrusts faltered. “Oh, shit,” he grunted as he came inside you.

Your stomach jumped as you hit your peak. “Oh, fuck fuck fuck,” you called out, as you came with him.

Tyler slowed his pace and then collapsed beside you. “That was even better than I imagined.” He said, kissing your shoulder. You nodded, still catching your breath.

“I think I’m officially a spring break fan.” You agreed.

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[yuusishi]

Hello, I hope you're having a great week. Could I request Vil, Malleus, and Leona being carried bridal-style by their tiny yet powerful s/o?

. . . TINY MENACE

pairings : Vil Schoenheit , Malleus Draconia , Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader (sep.)

genre : fluff , established relationship

cws/tws : student insults Reader in Vil's part but no actual insults are written

a/n : the third years are my sillies

Vil Schoenheit !!

Complains the entire time v1.

You two were in an argument with a student that was constantly throwing insults at you.

Usually Vil would make you ignore that student and continue walking, but that student just kept throwing hurtful words at you. Ones that basically demanded Vil's attention.

It was a back and forth between him and the student, they hurled multiple insults at you while Vil smartly countered them.

It was getting tiring for you.

You had the strength, so why don't you just lift your boyfriend and go somewhere else to cool off? And that you did.

Vil's face morphed from his usual neutral face to surprised as he felt his feet lift off the ground, the student stepping back in surprise as well.

"I'm getting too tired to deal with this! Bye!" you yelled.

Be ready to hear a lot of "Dear, set me down" "What a bold potato you are, now, set me down before anyone sees"

Nothing threatening, but you can definitely hear the panic in his voice.

And don't worry about the student, they won't bother you now after seeing your strength and no one will believe them when they say that you lifted Vil Schoenheit.

Malleus Draconia !!

To be honest, if you're able to lift Malleus Draconia while being way shorter than him, I'd be terrified of you.

You were both sitting in bed when you started a joke argument, this was one of the few times Malleus joined you in this.

"Stop making fun of my height before I throw you across the room" "My, wouldn't that be quite the spectacle"

Sitting up on the bed, Malleus stared at you curiously before you put your hands under his back and knees and easily lifted the nearly seven foot fae prince.

You didn't throw him across the room, of course.

Malleus would be lying if he said he didn't feel surprised at first, instinctively putting his hand on your shoulder for support. He didn't feel scared, though, he knew you would never harm him.

He just looked extremely babygirl at the entire thing.

He'd be surprised when you finally set him back down. He knew you were stronger than an average human even with your height, but this is the only time he experienced it.

Mal would be laying completely still in the bed for a few seconds to take in what just happened, not being used to just randomly getting picked off where he was laying.

(But really, who is).

It was a thrilling experience for him, surprise and thrill are emotions that he rarely gets to feel due to him either just being at NRC or in Briar Valley. Only getting to really go out into the world when impromptu trips like when they visited the Scalding Sands happen and on field trips.

Strangely enough, he liked that you made him experience a rather foreign emotion, even if he did get caught off guard like that. Just make sure not to pull this when Silver and Sebek are nearby.

Leona Kingscholar !!

Complains the entire time v2.

The teachers (mainly Professor Trein and Crewel) were starting to get annoyed that Leona wasn't attending classes yet again, they knew that you were close with him and that's how forcing fetching Leona to classes went from Ruggie's job to yours.

You knew he'd either be at the dorms or the botanical garden, so you tried your luck in the botanical garden first. Luck was on your side today for you found him on your first try, now getting Leona to come with you was the true test of luck.

Leona was definitely more biased towards you, that's undeniably obvious, but forcing him to wake up was something that even you had difficulty in doing.

You poked at the beastman and even pushed him a couple times, but he wouldn't budge, he remained deep asleep on the cold floor.

That's when you got an idea.

Leona's eyes shot open when he felt himself get lifted off the cool floor. He almost pushed whoever had the audacity to not only wake him up, but to also pick him up like a baby if he didn't recognize your scent.

"Oi Herbivore, what do you think you're doing" "I'm getting tired of the professors nagging me to pick you up, so why don't I just do just that".

He found it funny at first, that you were able to pick him up like he had featherlight weight despite your size.

Then the complaining came when you refused to let him down until you got to the classroom (even if he didn't even attempt to get down himself).

"Just put me down already" "I'm not a baby, I can walk by myself" "Then why don't you just jump down?"

Silence...

[nerdyrevelries]

Jo March: The Pragmatist

One of the most common complaints I hear about Little Women is the way it ends. Many people think that Jo stifles her creativity and gives up on her writing in order to marry Professor Bhaer, which isn't true. Jo writes a very successful book in one of the sequels, Jo’s Boys, but let's set that to the side because what I really want to discuss is what Jo actually thinks of the writing she’s doing in the latter half of Little Women. 

In Part I of Little Women, we see the type of writing that Jo does prior to selling her work. In “A Merry Christmas,” the family puts on The Witch’s Curse, an Operatic Tragedy, which seems to be a Shakespearean melodrama. In “Jo Meets Apollyon,” the book Amy burns in anger is “half a dozen little fairy tales.” In “The P.C. and P.O.,” Jo writes a comedic poem and a lament for one of Beth’s cats. Finally, in “Secrets,” Jo submits a tragic romance to The Spread Eagle (one assumes that this name was less funny when Little Women was originally published in 1868.) The Spread Eagle doesn’t pay beginners, so we can assume that everything written up until this point is the type of writing Jo does for herself when there’s no pressure to make changes to please an editor in order to get a paycheck. 

Part II begins with the chapter “Gossip,” which catches us up on what’s been happening over the past three years. Jo is now a regular contributor to The Spread Eagle who receives a dollar for each story. She refers to them as “rubbish,” so she doesn’t seem particularly proud of the writing she’s doing, but she’s in the process of writing a novel she hopes will win her fame and prestige. 

In “Literary Lessons,” Jo observes a boy reading a newspaper story illustrated with a dramatic scene of “an Indian in full war costume, tumbling over a precipice with a wolf at his throat” and two men stabbing each other while a terrified woman flees the scene. When the boy offers to share, Jo agrees more because she likes the boy than because of an interest in the story. The story is sensation fiction, which Jo privately thinks is trash anyone could have written. However, when she learns the author is making a good living from her stories, Jo decides to try her hand at this new style of writing. She submits the story to a contest the newspaper is running and wins $100. Jo uses the money to send Beth and Marmee to the seashore. She’s proud of her ability to earn money to help her family, so she continues to write these kinds of stories since they are lucrative. 

She later finishes her novel and sends it to multiple publishers, only one of whom is interested, and only if there are major cuts and revisions. After conflicting advice from her family, she decides to make the requested changes, which earns her $300 and some very mixed reviews that lead Jo to respond, “Some make fun of it, some over-praise, and nearly all insist that I had a deep theory to expound, when I only wrote it for the pleasure and the money. I wish I’d printed it whole or not at all, for I do hate to be so misjudged.” 

In “Calls,” Jo reluctantly joins Amy to return calls to their neighbors with generally disastrous results. One incident involves Jo receiving a compliment on her writing. 

Any mention of her “works” always had a bad effect upon Jo, who either grew rigid and looked offended, or changed the subject with a brusque remark, as now. “Sorry you could find nothing better to read. I write that rubbish because it sells, and ordinary people like it.”

This passage makes it very clear that Jo isn’t proud or fond of what she is writing. The reception to her novel combined with the money she can make from sensation fiction has changed Jo’s primary motivation for writing. She is no longer doing it for the love of writing or because she’s pursuing her dreams. She’s trying to make money to help out her family.

I don’t think this is necessarily a bad thing. We all have periods in our life when we take a job that we aren’t extremely excited about because it will allow us to achieve something that is more important to us. However, it’s a different narrative than is usually spun about Jo who is frequently depicted as continually working towards her dream. There is a role in Castles in the Air that fits that narrative. It’s called the Striver, but I don’t think that’s the role that Jo has. Instead, Jo is the Pragmatist, which is a role about setting aside your dreams for the moment because you have other responsibilities. Both are interesting conflicts, but they lead to very different conclusions when it comes to Jo’s story! 

With that in mind, let’s take a look at “Friend,” which follows Jo in New York. She’s now writing for a newspaper called the Weekly Volcano, which has required Jo to make so many changes to her stories that she decides to have her work published anonymously. That certainly wouldn’t be a good career move if she was truly trying for fame! She’s also come to greatly respect a man staying at her boarding house named Professor Bhaer. One day, he makes a comment about a newspaper that publishes sensation stories like the ones Jo is writing. Her response is telling:

Jo glanced at the sheet, and saw a pleasing illustration composed of a lunatic, a corpse, a villain, and a viper. She did not like it; but the impulse that made her turn it over was not one of displeasure, but fear, because, for a minute, she fancied the paper was the “Volcano.” 

Professor Bhaer notices her look and guesses the truth, but instead of letting her know this, he decides to gently explain his reasoning. After this, Jo goes back to reread the stories she has been writing and decides to burn them. Far from stifling her creativity, Professor Bhaer is the one who sees that Jo is ashamed of her writing and reminds her that she is capable of more.

This is part of a series on the literary inspirations behind game elements for my upcoming tabletop RPG based on the novels of Louisa May Alcott and L.M. Montgomery, Castles in the Air. To see a complete list of the posts I’ve written thus far, check out the master post. If you would like more information, visit the game’s website!

[shantismurf]

"The Mushroom Mine" sign by @shantismurf, with assistance from @tickles-ivory

As part of the celebration of the one year anniversary of the Bagginshield Book Club, we asked the lovely @chrononautintraining a few questions about this wonderful work.

June 2024 Author Q&A with Chrononautical

Q1. What name would you like us to use and what are your pronouns?

A1. Chrononautical or Chrono, She/Her

Q2. How many years have you been writing? 

A2. Most of my life, but posting publicly for about 15 years.

Q3. What do you think of as your writing style - are you a plotter or pantster?

A3. Pantster, primarily, though I've learned my lessons and do like to know where a story is going to end when I start it these days so I try to plot. 

Q4. What’s your favorite genre/trope to write? 

A4. Speculative fiction: stories about magic or science fiction, primarily. 

Q5. Is there a genre/trope you haven't written as much of yet that you're excited about for future writing?

A5. I'd like to do more comedy.

Q6. Was there an idea or scene that inspired A Passion for Mushrooms?

A6. Passion for Mushrooms is one hundred percent inspired by the quote I used for an epigraph: "Hobbits have a passion for mushrooms, surpassing even the greediest likings of Big People." - The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien. 

When I decided to write it, the fandom already had more than a few stories about Bilbo planting gardens and deciding to stay in Erebor with a miraculously alive Thorin. I was completely here for all of that, of course, but I wanted a story where the garden wasn't special because of gold or rare plants bought with gold. I wanted there to be a treasure that Bilbo could appreciate with the Baggins half of his heart, as well as the Tookish bit. And I know next to nothing about mountains, but I do know mushrooms do okay in caves, so... 

Q7. Did you do any special research before writing the work?

A7. If you're asking this because I go deep on How To Pluck A Chicken In A Medieval Kitchen during the cooking scenes, you're right and you should say it. I am a middling cook, but all of my ingredients come from grocery stores. I had to do a fair bit of research on the cooking aspects of the story that were furthest from my own experience. Fortunately, the professor already put tomatoes and potatoes in Middle-earth, so I didn't have to go Full Historical. 

Q8. Did the story change from how you originally envisioned it? Were there scenes or plot elements you had to cut out?

A8. It absolutely did. Because I am, as previously said, a pantster. I wanted a bigger bang for the ending of the story than I was set up to get. I could have stopped with Bilbo and Thorin getting together and had some simple falling action, but that didn't perfectly tie the subplot of Dis and Tauriel back to the main pairing, which I knew I wanted. Having Doron try to poison Bilbo was actually a late in the game choice. If I'd planned that from the start, I would have threaded him into more of the middle sections of the novel. 

As for cutting things out, the additional stories in the series started as deleted scenes/reader requests that I couldn't find use for. So most of what I cut didn't end up in the rubbish bin. Anything that wound up there really wasn't worth posting. 

Q9. Do you have a favorite moment from the entire series?

A9. I still really like "A Spy In The Shire" a lot. I know it's so self-indulgent to say that about a story focusing on an OC, but if the point of the Battle of Five Armies is to reclaim Erebor for the dwarves, then I want that to mean something. I want the average dwarf to be in a bad place. I want the average dwarf to need Erebor the way Thorin needs Erebor, to be willing to do anything to get back to the Lonely Mountain. Because if that's the case, then all the sacrifice means something. When I talk about this one luckless dwarf on the world's silliest quest to figure out how to help the king hook up with a hobbit, I'm talking about hope for the future. I'm talking about all the people who long for and dream of the home that Thorin was willing to die to reclaim. I think about them going back there and living better lives. It brings me peace.

[burningvelvet]

Ranking all the Brontë novels + briefly reviewing The Professor

I finally finished The Professor by Charlotte Brontë, which means I HAVE COMPLETED ALL THE BRONTË NOVELS, which means I can now rank them. This is a rough order, but brief explanations will be given...

As an aside, bc I don't want to make a separate post for my review of The Professor, but I did note several strong similarities to Jane Eyre (the female lead's description, her elvish comparisons) and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (Hunsden/Huntington as the cynic, although the former is mostly good and the latter mostly bad). Really all the Brontë novels are very similar so there are tons of more common themes I could mention but won't. Also, more references to Scottish besties Walter Scott & Lord Byron!

Now for my official Brontë Book Ranking (which may be subject to change over the years...)

7. Shirley - I would like to revisit this one. There are some great gems in it, and I'm fascinated by the Luddism subject matter. It is also a strong contender for the most feminist Brontë novel and has probably the most in-depth female relationships which does count for something. But it's SO UNNECESSARILY LONG! And often boring! And it took me the longest to finish. So it has to be last.

6. The Professor - this one benefits from not being Shirley. It's also a good attempt at a first novel I think. It has some gems, but it's often boring like Shirley is in my opinion. I thought the main male, Crimsworth, was a bit more exciting to follow than any of the men in Shirley. I actually think Crimsworth is a pretty inspiring figure and I enjoyed his observations and his anti-work rhetoric. Like most Brontë protagonists, he's a teacher who experiences classism, poverty, and oppression, and manages to overcome these things through frugality, faith, love, hope, etc.

5. Agnes Grey - it's hard to get through at times but it's generally worth it and has a strong pay off. I think Anne's writing style is generally enjoyable. It's has a lot of the horror of Wuthering Heights and the lighter parts of Jane Eyre but it lacks Charlotte and Emily's stronger passions and has more of Anne's calm reasoning, faith, and stoicism. That makes it sound more boring than it really is maybe. I also think it's fascinating for being largely semi-autobiographical like Charlotte's works can be. We get to "know" Anne more than we do in Tenant I feel, and I think she's pretty admirable. The bird scene was based on a real experience she had as a governess, and she wrote most of the novel as a rebellious act in her room right after work. All teachers and childcare workers – and really all women and members of the working-class – should take this novel as the cautionary tale it was written to be.

4. Villette - this is the weirdest Brontë novel. Some interesting scenes and characters. Charlotte's last novel shows far more writerly evolution than in Shirley where she was again trying for more progressive social commentary (and mostly succeeded I think) but often fell back into the more sedate or conventional nature that parts of The Professor has (saving Crimsworth's sometimes strong, sassy, rebellious attitude). Villette was written in a strange period of grief for Charlotte and it shows. Villette is basically Jane Eyre's weirder older sister.

3 and 2 are almost tied for me. I have also written about 3, 2, and 1 so much on my blog that I probably won't go into as much detail as I have with the others.

3. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall - shockingly underrated. Hard to get through, but so is Wuthering Heights which it's pretty similar to at times. Radically progressive and daring, it is a strong contender for being the most feminist Brontë novel and the most oriented toward social justice (although they really all are). Brilliant use of mystery and gothic allure with a social realism that was too ahead of its time to fall into the common traps of that genre. Has everything you could want in a Brontë novel.

2. Wuthering Heights - a bomb in your face. Full of passion. Grand drama. What can I say? It's infamous for valid reasons. Never a boring moment, which instantly pushes it to the top of the list for me who am easily bored. I have elaborated on this work very often on my page so I don't feel the need to reiterate everything here but I will say that this novel has basically everything you could want.

1. Jane Eyre - has all the gothic mystery and passion of Wuthering Heights but focuses on fewer characters whose arcs thus feel more personable and fulfilling in my opinion. We get to know Jane and Rochester much more fully than almost any of the other Brontë characters I feel. And it is my love for the characters that really makes this one my favorite Brontë novel as well as one of my favorite tales of all time (whereas Heights is notorious for its unlikeable characters which actually repel many readers from enjoying it). No wonder it's the most adapted and tied with Wuthering Heights for being the most famous (although I think it may have surpassed Wuthering Heights in pop culture at times). I also think there are a lot of really meaningful themes, morals, and subjects that are explored in this novel, which again can be said of all Brontë novels, but it all feels so much more full in this one. The plot itself is also the most well-crafted in my opinion, and it has one of the greatest twists in all of literature/media imo.

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

art by em year in review 2024!

i find myself surprised i drew much at all this year considering the circumstances (completing a bachelor's degree. concerts. international trip. starting a phd. general state of world.) however, for the fifth time i am happy to present my yearly retrospective.

as always, reflections under the cut.

jan: i feel like my weakest pieces always happen in january 😭 this was definitely one of those where concept > execution; some of this feels woefully flat and i wasn't too enthused about how herc looked. oh well. that was literally one of the only things i drew in january

feb: one of the developments that came about this year in my drawing was that of my cartoon/comic style, because i wanted to have a record of all the funny shit that happens in my music life. i've continually been surprised at the reception of it online haha. tita conductor is OUR internet microcelebrity now i guess

mar: ah, the douglas seventh wheels the hercolyn wedding fic i've been saying i'd write for almost two years. well, that actually got written and will go up later this week. but anyway, Hurt That Old Man!

apr: in which some professor of media studies with a slide whistle chose to examine a 160-year-old novel through the lens of an intergenerational relationship, and i took it personally. i was not drawing a lot during this time, so i was naturally falling back on my favorite subjects, namely. herc and linda. so much for branching out this year LMAO

may: a pen test for my graduation gift to tita conductor (finished version here, which she loved so much she couldn't stop talking about it when we next saw each other in september). someone once said to me 'it's weird that you can draw her from memory.' i replied 'looking at her is kind of part of the job description.'

jun: drawing theresa is probably one of the ways through which i measure my art progress, given that out of all the character designs i have (bar one, which i don't share on this blog for Reasons) hers is the one that has stuck around the most persistently. the grey is here to stay‼️

jul: i drew this one while having stomach problems in the philippines 😭 but something about the philippines (and like. being around people of my ethnic background on a daily basis) made me think a lot about my character designs for the soft-shoe-shuffle trio, so i wanted to do something with them a bit

aug: for all i talk about martin i sure never draw him, ever 😂 it's probably not obvious, but i was trying painting an base layer rather than an overlay (which i've been using pretty consistently since last year). in the future, i want to experiment more with coloring: i think i've not been eager to touch that part in my art and that needs to change. also pour one out for what i almost captioned it:

if i got onto a plane and i saw a twink in that mfing pilot seat i'm jumping off 😐🤚🏻‼️

sept: the piece that got the most attention this year i think. i'm not sure how well it came across that douglas is supposed to be ever so slightly horny in this one. oh well. it was funny.

oct: i think it was this piece that made me start to realize that i have kind of developed a problem with making everyone's faces super long. which. i don't really know how that happened. anyway this is really cute still. read the theresa-becomes-a-pilot fic.

nov: omg guys remember when i was obsessed with the theresa-maxi dynamic. well it came back for a blazing second of glory in november. maybe it'll come back to me again for good. we'll see

dec: again, familiar subjects during a tumultuous time. not much of note here, except i have noticed myself getting very lazy with lighting recently. also i wrote a fic about this.

overall: going into the new year, i think the whole 'making everyone's faces look super long' thing needs to be addressed; otherwise, as stated earlier, i really should start experimenting with coloring and base layers and shading and lighting.

thank you everyone! and a happy new year to all!

[solarpunkpresentspodcast]

Links Roundup

Here are some recent links from the interwebs that Ariel has been chewing over.

Rethinking Masculinity: Teaching Men How to Love and Be Loved

I have the softest soft spot for this sort of content, I’m not going to lie. As a girl who was taught to fear men (not just from being raised in Toronto during the height of the Stranger-Danger zeitgeist, or having my primary bullies throughout my life being boys, or having to be a teenager in the grossly regressive early 2000s, or attending youth group during the rise of Evangelical-style purity culture in my denomination), I kind of love the idea of not having to run through an internal safety checklist each time I meet or interact with a man and decide whether or not it’s worth the risk to engage. This is warped thinking! But it’s what I was taught to do to survive, and old habits are hard to shake, but knowing that there are men out there who are actively rethinking masculinity in an inherently feminist, decolonial way gives me hope that can change, and that future generations of little girls won’t have to dodge quite so much structural shittiness, and that future generations of little boys will feel much more comfortable with who they are.

Degrowth as a Concept and Practice: Introduction

I admit I’m actually not really knowledgeable about degrowth - like, sure, I know it’s a philosophy/proposed economic policy/theoretical concept / thing, and I like to think it’s pretty obvious in its aims from its very moniker, but I’ve never actually sat down and read up on the details of degrowth and what it would entail. Or talked to anyone knowledgeable about it, for that matter. So this article series is very nice as a primer.

Degrowth advocates argue that we need to transform our everyday practices to respect and work with the fragile, limited, yet bountiful Earth on which we rely to exist.

Sounds pretty solarpunk to me. But just because something sounds good doesn’t mean it’s actually good, so this series really helps dig into the details, especially if you’re not a policy wonk (and are more of a yes-okay-there-is-a-forest-but-let’s-pay-attention-to-the-tree-species person) like me. I think, however, that a lot of smaller projects that solarpunks are working on (such as makerspaces, community resiliency, and local production of goods/food) fits pretty well under the umbrella concept of “degrowth” even if that label hasn’t been applied to them.

The Animal Feed Industry’s Impact on the Planet

This is a fascinating article on the ramifications of the land-use needed for “making animals the caloric middlemen” in the human food chain. This is an aspect of meat-eating that I’m a little embarrassed to admit didn’t actually occur to me until university (when I learned about it from fellow students). City girl, what can I say? We all have blind spots.

Which is why I like that this article exists, because while I think it’s easy, knowing what I do now, to roll my eyes and go “pfft, coulda told you that for a nickel,” there are people out there, many of them I’m very sure, who probably haven’t encountered this as a concept before. CW, though, for the middle bit of the article. This isn’t a happy topic.

Population can’t be ignored. It has to be part of the policy solution to our world’s problems

I was ready to tear this article apart just on principle, as I am so used to encountering this type of thinking in the green movement as a signal for eco-fascism. “There are too many people” translates, in most cases, to “there are too many poor brown people”. This is repugnant ideology as it lays the groundwork for racism at least, if not outright violent massacres. However, this article is written by an Australian professor who makes it very clear that in so-called developed (aka white settler) nations, there is simply an amount of people that puts undue pressure on the natural environment, and our ability to feed ourselves. I wish there was more discussion of this in general, to combat the insidious eco-fascist narrative that overpopulation is an issue because of “those people over there”. That’s really not it at all.

Paradigm Shift: Part 4 - What Might a Sustainable Lifestyle Look Like?

This is part four of a series talking about living sustainably - and this particular article uses the author’s life as an example. I sort of love this kind of media - even though since she lives in the Pacific NorthWest in America, a lot of what she talks about is really not applicable to me - because it helps me to develop my imaginative tools. When faced with an issue in my life where a necessity clashes with a solarpunk value of mine (eg, getting around on my own vs not buying into automobility), I’m better able to think of alternatives (carsharing, transiting, using an electric or non- bike, etc) because I have a “rolodex” of examples in my imagination that I can shuffle through.

Plus it’s very hopeful and inspiring to read these sorts of stories. Yes, “carbon footprint” is a problematic concept and etc but there’s something to be said for carefully considering your lifestyle and deciding to do the difficult things in order to be a better neighbour to the flora and fauna around you. Which is nice.

[lettherebemonsters]

I don't think we'll have to worry too much about Red Hulk being affected by the movie getting bad reviews, because there's still those statements going around, that hopefully increase after release, that Ross is the only enjoyable part of the movie. Plus, yeah, with watered down Professor Hulk being their current take on Banner, Ross is probably going to at least take over his old role in approachability and marketability for kids, so his merch will likely do very well. I would personally hope for a return to a more Savage Hulk-leaning personality if they did something like Agents of S.M.A.S.H., since that was the only thing keeping me from enjoying that series fully (would've preferred a characterization like Avengers EMH or other competent versions that don't lose his core personality), but it would be cool to see. Unfortunately, if the current Hulk and Skaar are involved, I really don't think there's any hope for it being serious. The MCU already has a habit of adding a joke every other second, and between the Professor-wannabe, a Jen who's portrayed as the concept of a feminist but written by a man who got all his information from online forums instead of the better-adjusted Harvey Dent-like origin she used to have, and Skaar (who I'm not even entirely a fan of to begin with, because he came from a relationship Hulk had with someone other than Betty) as the byproduct of what likely was a vacation fling rather than a love formed amidst seemingly inescapable traumatic events that had a brief respite before ending in tragedy, it seems like they would just go full sitcom in the style of Teen Titans Go or the fake portion of Wandavision. Who knows, though? Maybe a writer who actually cares might take point and give us more grounded takes on all the characters. For now, though, I'd just settle for more Red Hulk content and maybe a return of Betty with a reestablishment of her importance to Bruce. Unless you were talking about a non-MCU show, like from the X-Men 97 team? Because yeah, actually, they could probably pull off a serious AoS super well! Sending vibes out into the universe that we get something like that, and people realize the potential for how good Hulk content could be when the characters are actually respected and allowed to be themselves 🤞

I definitely hope so! Hopefully not so much as a mindless monster but even making him more like Indiana Jones would be awesome (which is....literally Red Hulk most of the time in the comics anyways...)

Yeah as much as I love SMASH, Hulk being the bossy do-gooder got annoying. There were times when it was funny, like Hulk's beef with Red Hulk over their sleep schedules and one time they did play with Hulk's fear of becoming mindless in season 2.

Ironically the Red Hulk in EMH is my least favorite. He's too much like the General from DC comics with him being pure evil when he isn't. He's unpredictable, sure, but even he wouldn't risk the lives of families and children for a dog fight with Hulk.

( He had the best look next to World War Red Hulk in Avengers Assemble.)

And honestly I just never gravitated towards Jarella and Caeira for Hulk. Like Betty's death was a shock for everyone and a huge reason for the massive blow out between Red and Green. Red Hulk blamed Green Hulk for his broken heart. Caeira's death triggered World War Hulk and....that's it. After Hiro-Kala Hulk might as well have laid an egg and hatched Skaar himself given how little Caeira's been referenced.

Although it definitely feels like the Hulks in general are kind of screwed in terms of relationships. Even Red Hulk lost his girlfriend Annie and who knows what Thundra's up to nowadays.

(Maybe it's wishful thinking that Marvel resurrects Betty's mother as a Red She-Hulk too?)

^^^^^^

YESSSS ON MORE RED HULK CONTENT

Like he's getting his own series again so that's good news and it ties into One World Under Doom. Maybe this is a sign of Red Hulk returning to fight against Dr. Doom in Doomsday?

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter One Part 2

"It will. If you don't stop writing that is. You have a style all your own. It's like you're just telling a story around a fire one night. And you're story is good. I mean, really good. It's well written. It's introspective. Makes you question some things. And it's original. It's a new idea."

"Is that why there's red ink all over it?" I said, with a half-smirk. I was making fun of her needless habit of editing every single piece of creative fiction that passed before her. I wasn't sure, but if she stuck with her habits, she could go on to being one of the best editors out there. And I didn't know shit about the actual world of writing, but I knew editors were important.

"Shush. It's just grammatical and spelling errors." She crossed her arms in front of her, and sat forward, resting them on her desk. "Make me a promise?"

I looked at her, this time with my own confusion. "What?"

"Don't stop. And if you ever get anywhere with this, put me in your thank dedication." She cracked a smile at me. Her teeth were extremely white, contrasting against her darker complexion. I wondered for a second how often she bleached her teeth.

"I won't. I don't think I could, even if I wanted to." I meant that. From the moment I was able to write, it never stopped. It's why I did so poorly in high school. I would spend my classes writing shitty high school emo poetry. Every night before bed, I would journal. There were always snippets of story ideas all over my notebooks, and pretty much anything else I could write on. "And if I ever a thank you page, you'll be on the list. You don't need to ask for that. I really would thank you."

"For what?" She asked with curiosity.

"I don't know. Kind words? Support. You're one of the few who didn't make me completely hate this place." I shrugged. That's all I had. Hopefully, it was enough. My writing never came through in how I spoke. I always tripped and stumbled over my words. Or said inappropriate things. Or just totally missed out on normal social cues.

"I'll take it. Good luck, Chris. Keep in touch, please." she said. I hated hearing the disappointment in her voice, but I was doing this for me. I hated this place. I hated the environment. I hated the crowds. The people. All it did was set off my anxiety issues, and I'm beyond fucking tired of having panic attacks hidden in some bathroom, hoping no one comes in to hear me cry and sob until I can catch my breath and breathe again.

"Yeah, you too," I said, standing up and grabbing my backpack. I looked up and saw the time. "Shit, I gotta go. I'm going to miss the bus." I took off, hurriedly out into the hallway, where a crowd of other students was pushing through. It was just past noon. Lunch hour. Fuck. The fastest way to the bus stop was through the cafeteria.

And the cafeteria was packed with a massive crowd of hungry kids grabbing something quick before heading off to the next hour or so of boredom and sleeping in class. Luckily, I'm very small. I'm only 5'7" and I weight 117 lbs, if I'm soaking wet. I could slip through crowds pretty easily. And that's what I intended to do here.

I didn't really know anybody at the UW, other than my professor's and their aides. But, I was well known. Mainly because of how I looked, and the fact that almost ninety percent of anything that came out of my mouth was pure unfiltered sarcasm. It was a coping skill, keeping people from breaking through my shell.

And has I pushed through the crowd, I swear I heard someone shout my name behind me. I turned my head for one second. One simple second, and that's all it took for me to collide into someone, knocking their books and an apple to the floor. I guess I was missing the book. I never did find out who was calling for me, or if anyone actually was.

"Oh shit, fuck. I'm sorry," I said, dropping to the ground to pick up the books and the now bruised and tainted apple. It was when I grabbed the apple, that I saw the ratty and old combat boots, leading to fishnet covered legs and a flowing gray skirt, that ended right on the knee. A black t-shirt, with the lips from Rocky Horror Picture show screen-printed on, covered up part of a massive sleeve tattoo of roses, vines and skulls on her right arm. Her nails were painted a bright red.

[datastate]

do you have any hcs about mishima and nao?

SOOO MANY! BUT for now, i'll stick with a small one on their beginning friendship :D

nao used to be very quiet in a lot of her classes; a nice person, certainly, and easy to talk to! but rather closed off unless you tried to pry, where even that would just be rude and she'd say as much.

but of course, there were small things here and there she'd share with her friends should you happen to overhear. usually, it'd be anime/manga that she'd recommend to others (usually horror with interesting concepts, though she wasn't immune to well-written 'slice of life's) - which resulted in hana (her best friend) actually buying her a keychain for her bag!! nao doesn't usually wear/buy merch, as she fears she'll lose/damage them, but... since her friend got it, she felt she'd be disappointed if she didn't show it off.

&...! this is the spark for professor mishima to actually prompt her on her interests; one of the few things she'd end up rambling on about... and he has enough context to keep her going!

it was nice getting to see her actually relax a bit, if a bit surprising to realize that she liked horror so much... and of course, it was when she inevitably brought it back to art (she was inspired to become an artist from such a silly thing, though mishima assures he understands) that she started getting nervous again; as much as she loves it, she can't draw it well. it doesn't feel like it could fit her style much at all - she intimidates herself out of drawing it.

however! mishima does not lose hope so easily. he encourages her to keep trying & experimenting with her art. after all, art is something she should have for herself if nothing else...

although mishima doesn't typically work with horror, he does have plenty of pointers on how to incorporate characters into a backdrop (it provides variation + reflects his current views too... people being a part of something larger, connected through means they don't quite realize); he had a similar start to nao in that he often relied heavily on portraits/character focus, but for that reason can help lead her along into slowly branching out.

a lot of what nao likes is the eerie - something that you have to really look at to realize how off it is. working on backgrounds such as these definitely helps with integrating characters in a more natural manner! and helps improve her work altogether, too...!! she's having more fun than she used to with her personal projects, where she previously felt stagnant but couldn't pinpoint why (and felt guilty to ask hana, as the response would always be a well-meaning "but i like your art! i don't think that at all" rather than critique she wished for), so it was...!! really nice for her to have <3

and... getting to show a trusted adult that, too, made her very happy. her parents didn't often see art as something that'd work out... but she finally felt pride in her work, and had something else to look forward to when it came to classes, rather than simply skirting by day-to-day. it took about a year and a half of school to get here, but... it makes it feel worth it.

it's also around this late time of the year, too, that mishima casually mentions he's trans.

one of the other students is complaining about the cold, and he agrees a bit too personally that skirts are awful in this weather before offering his usual advice... and it's this moment that stays in nao's mind. combined with previous comments here and there about the dysmorphia in horror...

despite this near-confirmation... nao waits until the very end of the year before she admits to the professor that she's trans. she hasn't really socially transitioned yet, only a few friends know, and she's still a bit afraid she might've misunderstood that he's trans... but it all turns out well by the end of it <3

however, since she's about to enter her last year with people who mostly knew her as a boy, it's only when she graduates that mishima offers to help put word in to adjust her uniform; which she greatly appreciates... also, throughout her last year, they get to actually discuss how it is to be mixed & that is when he offers to learn arabic with her. she was never taught it, and is too embarrassed to ask her parents, so he's taken it upon himself to help her with that too... here and there, still as her mentor and friend even after their time in school :'D

[multiverse-of-fanfic]

Sooo I finally wrote a little bit (1.4K-ish) of that obikin poet au I talked about here. This takes place after their first meeting at the gala thingy. Hope y’all enjoy!!

Anakin’s weakness had always been older men with finely trimmed facial hair and an accent that could smack him five ways to Felucia.

It was the reason he’d nearly flunked out of Advanced Quantum Mechanics — come on, a guy could only hear ‘angular momentum’ drawled thickly so often before he blushed — and it was also the reason he found himself sitting in a crowded coffee shop across from Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Well, part of the reason anyway.

Padmé and Bail’s charity gala was a raving success, and somewhere along the way, Anakin’s cover story had gotten him roped into what Obi-Wan called a “Poetic Intervention”. Though his well coiffed auburn hair, immaculately trimmed beard, Coruscanti accent, and cute-as-a-button sweater vest sweetened the deal a tad, too.

That was how Anakin found himself sitting across from the man, an obviously well-read first edition collection of poems on the table between them. Poems Anakin was supposed to dislike even though he’d written them, but obviously Obi-Wan didn’t know that. So now he was trying to explain their merits to Anakin. It was all very convoluted and Anakin was doing his best not to think too hard about it.

“I just don’t see,” Obi-Wan huffed, turning the page to a new poem, “how you could dislike Lars’s work. That last one was one of his most acclaimed.”

It had been, Anakin acknowledged with a smug smirk into his mug. One of the first poems he’d ever written, nominated for a Coruscanti Literary Award no less, and he’d been three sheets to the wind after Padmé dumped him.

The heated ceramic warmed his hands, pleasant shivers zipping down his spine. He might’ve wanted to stay for hours if not for the fact that it was starting to feel a lot like work.

Anakin slouched back in his chair and shrugged. “Not sure what else there is to say that I didn’t say the other night. Poetry just isn’t my thing.”

Obi-Wan placed his palms on the tabletop, the distractingly enticing fingers of his left hand curling around the edge of the wood.

“Lars is for everyone. That’s what’s so enthralling about him. He tears away the veil from poetry that makes it seem so unattainable. He—he,” Obi-Wan picked up his right hand and waved it wildly in the air between them, dislodging a piece of styled coppery hair. “He deconstructs the stigma that poetry is only for scholars and laureates. He makes it relatable and simple, while maintaining the beauty and profoundness.”

After Professor Jinn’s lesson on poetry and its inaccessibility to the masses, when Anakin decided to write, he knew that’s what he wanted to accomplish. Of course, he couldn’t tell Obi-Wan that, but he really wasn’t interested in speaking at all, not with the dreamy look on the man’s face. The look of a man talking about something that really mattered to him. A smile that brought out a dimple in his cheek buried under his beard, and wrinkles around his ocean blue eyes.

And it was Anakin making him light up like that. Well, technically it was Rako Lars, but that was beside the point.

Instead of everything Anakin could have said, he went with, “I’m sure he’s great, but if I wanted to bore myself anymore I’d just go read Shakespeare.”

But all too quickly, Anakin realized his mistake. Obi-Wan’s eyes went wide, shimmering under the lamplight, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Actually, Shakespeare himself favored iambic pentameter, and it just happens that this poem,” he jabbed his index finger to the page, “is in the same meter.”

Anakin stared blankly at the page. He knew which poem it was. He desperately wanted to get up and leave, manners and Obi-Wan Kenobi be damned. But the way Obi-Wan was looking at him, tenderly peering at him through his round reading glasses, had him clearing his throat.

“Diamonds shine in the sky and on land too

Special unique flakes into white blankets

Though the sight evades, witnessed by a few

Falling rain its equal, both rare trinkets

Mother Nature’s beauty incomparable

Her golden gifts last for just a season

Her nest left empty for one more feeble

But even She grows weak without reason.”

Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan from underneath his lashes, and the man nodded for him to continue. He exhaled through his nose, brushing his index finger over the corner of the page.

“Twin suns set on the horizon daily

But the arid wind is full of silence

The absence of Her presence felt greatly

Time passes slowly in glum compliance

The chill and rain then stay away to weep

But they will meet again where all things sleep.”

Obi-Wan gazed at him expectantly. “What do you think?”

Anakin gulped, masking his discomfort by reaching for his near-empty mug. “It was fine I guess. It rhymed.”

The older man licked his lips, and Anakin tracked the motion shamelessly, though Obi-Wan didn’t notice. “Yes, exactly!” He shouted, wagging his finger in Anakin’s face.

“He uses basic end rhyming in the ABAB CDCD EFEF GG rhyme scheme.”

Anakin did his best to look confused and beyond help, but he was fairly sure he only managed to look constipated.

“What do you think this was about?”

He drew in a slow breath and blew it out his puffed cheeks and flicked his eyebrows up. “Beats me,” he said plainly, baring his hands palms-up.

“Well,” Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing his temples, “Rome wasn’t built in a day. Some scholars think this is no more than a clichéd attempt at representing the seasons.”

And they’d be wrong, Anakin thought darkly to himself, crossing his arms.

“I, however, disagree completely.”

“You do?” Anakin asked, unable to keep the genuine surprise and curiosity out of his voice.

Tendrils of steam whirled beneath Obi-Wan’s nose as he lifted his tea to his pursed lips, blowing over the surface to cool it. “We know frustratingly little about Lars. All anyone has been able to gather is that he comes from Tatooine, as parsed from the twin suns line.”

An error Anakin hadn’t caught until after he’d submitted it for publishing.

“So then what do you think he’s talking about?” Anakin asked, playing along, interested to see what conclusion this self-proclaimed Larsian had come to.

“Well,” Obi-Wan began, setting his cup down and slipping his hands into the pockets of his sweater vest. “The seasonal imagery, in my opinion, is just a metaphor. The diamond white blanket — clearly snow — and rain, both scarce and beautiful in a desert ecosystem. But what really catches my eye is Mother Nature.”

Obi-Wan’s hand reappeared, two fingers pushing his reading glasses back up his nose and then falling gently to the page, tracing an invisible line underneath the text.

“It is not new or profound to animate Mother Nature, to personify her. But I think what Lars is doing here is using her in place of someone important to him. See here—“ His finger hovered back and forth over the quatrain. Anakin felt his throat tighten with every word.

“Her golden gifts, an empty nest. Parenting — her child moving away. And the ending about sleep. A common euphemism for death. I think,” he stated, taking off his glasses and chewing on the end of an arm. “That this is a beautiful, haunting poem about grief.”

Anakin swallowed thickly. He’d never had someone perfectly analyze his work to him before, and not just because he actively tried to avoid it. So many people tried to make too much of it, to do exactly what Obi-Wan had said, tried to make some profound, grand statement out of his work. Mostly, Anakin wrote poems when he was drunk, when his mind was uninhibited, untethered from the baggage of his conscious mind. It allowed him to write about the world and experiences as he perceived them, and not through the lens of what others expected of him.

To have Obi-Wan cut to the heart of him so easily, so deeply, and thoroughly leave him raw in the best way was a feeling he could get addicted to. Anakin wanted to keep being exposed, have his layers peeled back like an onion. He wanted to take up all of Obi-Wan’s time, all of his attention. He wanted to hear what other insights the man had.

Maybe it was selfish and self-centered…yeah, definitely. But only a little. Mainly, Anakin just wanted to see him again.

He looked up and met Obi-Wan’s gaze with a soft smile. “I think I like yours better.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes lit up, and Anakin knew he’d let this man teach him knitting if it meant seeing his face like that.

[moonstruckme]

omg you’re in creative writing?? thats what i want to major in after i do my basics here in my home town!!

what’s it like?? idk anyone who’s been in a creative writing class (i’m the only one in my family that likes to write for fun lmao) so i have no one to go to for questions!

is it super hard and like,,,very demanding?? if that makes sense?? do you get to write some of your own stuff or do you have to follow a certain prompt/story line..?

feel free to ignore if you don’t want to answer! no hard feelings :))

I love it, but it was definitely nervewracking for me at first!

My school doesn't offer creative writing as a major but we do have a certificate program, which is four classes that start with like "intro to creative writing" and get a bit more specific as you go along. They've all been structured sort of the same way, which is that for the first few weeks of the semester we read published stories and discuss them in class to analyze them for craft, and then we start workshopping. For most of my classes there's been two rounds of workshops, so you submit a story, your workshop class comes around, you get about a half hour or so of everyone in class discussing what did/didn't work for them in your story, and ofc you do the same for everyone else. Then I've usually had a few weeks before my other story was due. I'm not sure if this is the same as what crw classes are like elsewhere.

For me, workshops have been a fairly stressful experience, but for the most part that's had more to do with me being anxious about sharing my writing than anything actually justifiable haha. There's a shared vulnerability that comes with reading everyone's work and knowing they're reading yours, and most everyone in my workshops has been super kind about their feedback and critiques always go beyond "I don't like this" into something a lot more workable and constructive. I have had one bad prof who had a very narrow view of writing (he thought Hemmingway was the only good writer and that's what we should all strive for) and he sort of ruined that class for me, so I will say that if you're signing up for creative writing classes, looking into the professors is a must! Finding someone who's style might line up with yours or even who other students just say is open-minded will make your experience so much better.

This also def depends on the professor, but I haven't found them very demanding! Usually I have a few weeks to write a story about whatever I want (unless I want to just submit one I've already written), and for me they've never been longer than 5k words. Ofc in between that you're reading other stories written by your peers and published authors, and I suppose it depends on the workload you're accustomed to but I've always found crw classes to be my lightest ones (also because the reading is usually so fun!)

My workshops have definitely helped me grow a bit more backbone when it comes to absorbing criticism and also just accepting the vulnerability that comes with sharing your work, but overall my favorite part has been making friends with other writers. There were a few people who I had multiple classes with throughout a few semesters, and we'd sometimes meet to work on our projects, and just getting to chat about writing with people who think similarly is so fun! Like you said, it can be hard to find people who really get it sometimes, so of all the ways that my crw classes have been great for me, those discussions have been my favorite part :)

[nickgerlich]

Now And Then

Headlines this morning are proclaiming that SAG-AFTRA (the screen actors guild) and Hollywood studios have reached a tentative agreement. That’s good for everyone, including fans, because it means that new content can be created for our viewing pleasure.

One of the major bones of contention in the strike was the possible use of AI not only to write scripts, but also be used to create audio and video in the likeness of stars. It is a very real possibility, and AI capabilities have advanced so much in recent months and years that it could happen, and completely without the permission of anyone being imitated.

But what if a project of this sort were actually initiated—and approved—by artists who tapped into AI capabilities to produce content of someone who is long deceased? That is precisely what Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr—the surviving members of the Beatles—did. Last week what is quite likely the last song ever by the Beatles to be released was unleashed to the world.

The song, Now And Then, was written by John Lennon, and had only been recorded as a crude demo on a cassette player in 1977. He had written it while living at the Dakota Hotel in NYC, and simply recorded it while at the piano. John’s wife, Yoko Ono, gave the cassette tape to Paul in 1994, but it could not be used in a subsequent effort at the time to produce a post-mortem anthology. The piano and vocal tracks could not be isolated.

Lennon was shot and killed in New York City on the evening of 8th December 1980. When that 90s project was underway, George Harrison was still alive. Alas, he died on 29th November 2001 of cancer. That left Paul and Ringo to do this project in the modern era.

And were it not for AI, this never would have happened. It should be noted that the new song is John’s real voice, not “AI John.” Artificial Intelligence was used to separate the original vocal from the piano, and then enhance Lennon’s vocals.

So while critics of AI need to mull that over and accept this was really a high-tech editing project, there remains the possibility that far more could be done. For example, I have extensive audio of my father telling stories while he was yet alive. Not only could I feed those into AI for enhancement, but I could tell the AI machine to create new audio content in the voice and style of my late father, using a script that I would feed it.

Now imagine a professor—someone, maybe me, maybe someone else—doing the same thing. It takes a long time to create long-form lecture audio files. Not just for the speaking part, but also for the multiple takes required when the prof stumbles or coughs. It’s one thing for this prof to do the audio recording of blogs like this every morning, because they are only five to seven minutes long. It is quite another when you’ve got thousands of words to speak.

For that matter, Voice Actors could be put out of business if we’re not careful. All those audio books on Audible could be created with the click of a few buttons, having uploaded a voice sample. And while we’re at it, why not audio text books? Sheesh. That’s an idea that should have been done years ago.

Meanwhile, I am loving the Beatles’ new song. I know. I am old like that. But in my defense, my two 20-something daughters love the Beatles, too. I credit that to good upbringing, and them growing up surrounded by 60s- and 70s-era music. You might call that punishment, but they rather like it.

Turn it up and enjoy the song, because it’s the last time you’ll ever hear them together. Even if they aren’t. Dr “AI To The Rescue” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[druckkugelschreiber]

so I gotta know about "did you sleep with your teacher?"

(also I'm probably not doing the wip ask game myself until tomorrow)

Kel's out here asking the real questions! I'm so glad you asked (also no pressure on when you answer the game :D )

Also TW for underage teacher/student relationship!

So, the title 'Did you sleep with your teacher?' is from my Marvel / School for good and evil crossover fic. It's about Athena Stark, Tony Stark's nonbinary kid and Lady Lesso from the school for good and evil (again I don't think anybody is actually surprised).

Anyway, Athena, being a Stark and all, is in her last years of college being 17 years old and doing their second PhD. They take an advanced psychology class where Lesso is their teacher and the two hit it off.

Coincidentally Lesso is also a SHIELD agent/ recruiter.

The title is from a scene I haven't written yet where Tony finds out and is like "Did you sleep with your teacher?" And Athena is like "uuhhhh... no?" (Yes, she did in fact sleep with her very hot teacher).

Also on a tasty side note they have some fun desk sex that was very fun to write about.

Rather long snippet of them in the flirting stage below!

“What are you doing here?” Professor Lesso’s cool voice travelled down my back like the caress of a finger. 

I didn’t stop the maltreatment of the punching bag. “I’m working out.”

“You’ve never been here before”, her voice got closer, though I couldn’t hear the cadence of her steps over my rhythmic punching. 

“No, you’ve never seen me here before”, I corrected and stopped when she stepped within my field of view. 

So far I had seen her only in her teaching outfits, sharp cut suits, vest and tie and all. It made her look sophisticated and in charge, her wild curls always perfectly styled. But now, now, she wore tight fitting sports gear, that hugged her like a second skin. She had an incredibly athletic figure with lean muscles fitting perfectly with her sharp cut face. 

I wanted to feel her body against mine, those long, long legs wrapped around me. It didn’t help that she had braided back her hair, leaving her stunning face bare. The urge to pepper the line of her cheekbones with kisses was near overwhelming. 

“Stop being a smartass and answer the question.”

“I fear being a smartass is part of my genetic heritage”, I smirked. 

“Don’t make me hurt you, Stark.”

She really was making this easy on me. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.”

I never saw the strike coming. Well, correction, I saw the slight twitch, but didn’t expect her to actually attack me. She grabbed my wrist, whirled me around and nearly had me on the fucking floor before my body remembered hey we could fight too!

I slipped out of her grip for a second, but she readjusted and she was so much better than me. I managed to struggle a bit longer, but she had me on the mats in under a minute. I grunted in anger and pain. One of her knees on my shoulder, the other pressed down on my arm and elbow. Yeah she had me good. 

“Now, little mx sass”, she rasped in my ear, making me shudder despite my best efforts. “What are you doing here?”

“I already told you”, I smirked against the floor, “I’m working out.”

Lesso grumbled in frustration. “Why are you working out here? Instead of your usual gym?”

“Why do you think I have a usual gym?”

She readjusted the weight on my arm and I let out a pained breath, fuck was she hot. “I’m not daft, Stark. You don’t get a body like yours from not working out somewhere.”

My grin returned. “Noticed my body huh?” flirting with your prof? Bad idea. Flirting with your prof while you were still underage for a good three months? An even worse idea. Good thing I was always here for bad ideas. I wanted to wriggle to emphasise the statement but she still had so much pressure on my arm it would only hurt. 

“Hmh, yes”, Lesso purred and fuck me why was her voice so hot? “Now, Athena”, my name from her lips was a siren song. “Why are you here?”

“My usual gym is renovating”, I said, “and also I found out conveniently enough the room here is always empty around this time and I like being able to punch a bag without some guy coming over and trying to give me advice.”

Lesso scoffed in disbelief. No matter how much I turned my head, I couldn’t catch a look at her face. “Do you know why the room is usually empty at this time?”

“Please enlighten me, professor.” 

She readjusted the pressure on my arm, causing me to wince. “I have it booked.”

I held back a smirk that would have betrayed the fact that I knew that. I wasn’t dumb. I hadn’t just come into the college gym at random. Information was my business and I never missed it. Also when you were famous you sort of had to check the places you went to beforehand. 

“Oh, I’m sorry”, I said, “I had no idea.”

“Yes, you did”, Lesso hissed, “and now I have to punish you.”

Please do. I rested my head against the ground. 

She let go of me rather suddenly. 

I remained in the same position for a few seconds longer before I rolled around and carefully moved my arm to get rid of the throbbing. 

Lesso hadn’t stood up, still kneeling next to me so close that her knee rested against my hip. For someone who had just laid on the floor, my breathing was entirely too fast. “So what will it be, Athena? How would you like to be punished?”

“What do you have in mind, professor?” there was a rasp to my voice. 

Lesso smirked and stood up. “I guess I’ll have to teach you what happens when you interrupt my private time.”

Okay? Why had she stood up though?

“Get up. I’ll warm up and then we can spar.”

“Not the reason why I wanted to be unable to walk tomorrow.”

Lesso burst out laughing. The sound caught me entirely off guard. It was too cute for a trained assassin and spy. So open and full of light and with little dimples and oh my god, she shouldn’t be this cute laughing. “If you hadn’t interrupted, maybe I’d have done that.”

Oh fuck me she was mean. I pushed myself off the ground and tore off one of the punching gloves with my teeth, “fine.”

Her eyes got stuck on my teeth and lips. 

I raised an eyebrow, “didn’t you want to warm up?”

[spinsterennui]

I was tagged by the lovely @archetypewriter ❤️❤️❤️ Thank you so much for thinking of me darling!!! Fair warning, though: you’ve asked *an English lit grad student* to answer questions in a written format. I hope you’ve learned your lesson lol. In my defense, I can’t help being verbose; it’s my nature!!! 😂😭

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better!!!

Last song: XTC “Respectable Street”

Last show: Burn Notice

Currently watching: I always have the tv on in the background bc it reduces anxiety for me, but I’m not necessarily watching; it’s like white noise. The shows I’m actually watching are: Burn Notice, trying to finally finish Lucifer (the second half of season 6), and I’m going to try to get to Lucky Hank either today or tomorrow, despite my having a severe issue with large beards due to traumatic childhood parent issues. I honestly can’t decide if it’s a good thing that Bob has such a terrible beard in this show or not 😭 Like the fact that he’s playing an English professor might have been too indulgent for me without the off-putting facial hair lol.

Currently reading: Unfortunately I don’t read much for pleasure at the moment. A lot of this has to do with being so behind in my dissertation, which causes me to feel like I shouldn’t/can’t read anything that isn’t research; consequently, I end up just not reading. That said, I have been reading bits of Bob’s book A Load of Hooey, which is hilarious and ridiculous but is also easy to pick up and put down because it has a lot of very short parts. Books closer to my research: Killer Apes, Naked Apes & Just Plain Nasty People: The Misuse and Abuse of Science in Political Discourse by professor emeritus of anthropology at St. Lawrence University Richard J. Perry (a history and critique of biological determinism that is written for a non-academic audience — I highly recommend it) and, a more theory-based text, The Age of Scientific Sexism: How Evolutionary Psychology Promotes Gender Profiling and Fans the Battle of the Sexes by feminist/queer theorist and Distinguished Professor of critical theory and gender/sexuality studies at University of Toronto Mari Ruti (also fantastic albeit a bit dated as it’s from 2015 — Ruti has a very interesting writing style, but this book can be challenging for someone unfamiliar with theory and/or reading heavily academic texts).

Current obsession: I mean all apologies for being interminably repetitious, but Burn Notice (as well as Jeffrey Donovan in Burn Notice because a) he’s an incredible actor and b) he is seriously fucking hot in this role). I’m actually rewatching (yes AGAIN), but mainly because I realized that I hadn’t really been paying attention to seasons 1-2 during the rewatch.

When Better Call Saul ended I wasn’t really ready to invest in a totally new show (except for a couple of shorter ones), because it left me a tad despondent I suppose. I’d watched it from day one, back in 2015, after we’d binged Breaking Bad. So I saw that Burn Notice was streaming and thought “low stakes rewatch” because even though I watched the whole series when it originally aired, it ended back in like 2013 I think, and I’d honestly forgotten how good it is. Despite its flaws, it is such an entertaining and satisfying show. It has an incredibly strong and unique female character, and the way Michael and Fiona’s relationship develops (or re-develops) is fun and frustrating and emotionally rewarding at once. They’re both deeply flawed, deeply traumatized characters who love each other more than they love themselves, and slowly they both grow to realize that they can bring out the good in each other while helping to mitigate the bad. They save other people, that’s the sort of formula of the show beyond the burned spy part, but they also save each other, in more ways than one.

I really love shows that, at their core, turn out to be about something more substantial than what appears on the surface, particularly if that something is love in some form. When a show surreptitiously sneaks in a message about love, that show tends to stick with me so much longer and affect me so much more deeply. Better Call Saul, The X-Files, The Americans (admittedly in a fucked up way), The Glory, Lucifer, Leverage (which reminds me that I still need to watch the new one), or even Bates Motel (or ​Buffy/Angel in some ways) all, to one extent or another, have an underlying narrative of love (not just romantic, although that’s a fave for me), as well as related themes of identity (and what it means — like both what you choose and what others assign to you and how that affects your ability to be a fulfilled human), trauma and the aftermath, and family (both blood and found). These themes are quite overt in some of the shows I mentioned and less so in others, but in my opinion the threads run through them all. However, in Burn Notice they each are incorporated into the story incredibly well, which is a big part of what makes the show so compelling for me.

Okay, essay over!!!!! All apologies 😫 Anyway here’s a photo of a special birdie friend on my mantle (the spots are blacked out for privacy bc they are photos of my nephews) ❤️

I’m not going to tag nine people but I am tagging @veyzus @yellowginghamdream @tahiri-veyla @darkskywishes (though I haven’t seen them in a while so I hope all is well) and @nissameta1782 (I always feel weird tagging unless I know someone pretty well, which is weird bc I love being tagged by people I’ve never talked to before lol . . . go figure). Please don’t feel pressured!!! Ignore if you want ❤️