#Is doing so in a perfectly progressive way

[seneon]

I have no idea if requests are open or not so forgive me if they’re closed but could I request like making out with the Saja boys and how that would go? If that’s too much then putting makeup on them🙏🙏

LIPS HIPS KISS ─── saja boys. suggestive. gn¡reader.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ JINU SAJA

making out with jinu feels like the end of the world. he's a good kisser. why wouldn't he be when he's at least four centuries old? he's had his fair share of experiences that he has learned from. soft lips, smooth skin, tantalising eyes. and his magical hands that has you melting beneath his touch.

jinu holds your face, the back of your neck, or wherever that he could keep you locked in your spot with absolutely no where to run. his lips moved against yours so softly at first— testing the waters. but when you reciprocated, it gets bolder and heated until he could feel both your bodies growing hot, pushing you so close to him you could feel his chest against yours and the growing arousal from below.

he's the type to make out with you after the mood is set, or whenever he needs reassurance. french kisses seemed to be his favourite. he loves the way your lips perfectly moulds against his. kisses like these often leads to comforting cuddles, not very often does it progress into something more heated. he likes keeping it romantic. but when it does get heated, his hands will be under your shirt or beneath your waistband by now.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ ABBY SAJA

likes your hand all over his chest when you two make out. it's common to hold onto something to keep the connection going, isn't it? so he always wants your hand on him, roaming all over and feeling his muscles hardening under your touch. it sends fire straight to his core, making him breathe so very heavily into you.

abby heavily fancies rough kisses. ones where it's dominating, controlling, and guiding. this man leads every kiss and every single initiation. he wants to execute, not feel. never much of a feeler. abby only seek to please you and make you feel good. his kisses are a simple start.

while your hands are all over his chest, his hands in return are all over your hips and waist and under your shirt. touching and feeling your skin, simply by brushing his thumb against your hips is enough for him. abby will also make out with you literally anywhere. the underworld if you're a demon, social meetings, meet and greets, at the back lane, anywhere. he could never get enough of the taste of your sweet lips.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ ROMANCE SAJA

make outs with romance always end up with his hands on your hips, guiding you to rock your hips against him. no kidding. no shit. no lies. his heavy breathing and the way he holds the back of your head contains a lot of affection, and you can tell by the way he always starts off cheesy and romantic.

but oh, how silly of you to think that sweet kisses couldn't develop into something such as grinding against the obvious arousal in his pants while you feel your own arousal build up. he's a big tease with it. always getting you all hot and bothered but never doing more than that. you know you get him all worked up as well. besides getting aroused sexually, you annoyance from the teasing also gets aroused.

that's okay though. romance likes it when you're all angry and taking control instead when he's became your thirteenth reason in this push and pull. if i hadn't made it obvious yet, he likes you sitting on his lap and looking up at you with that stupid smirk and devilishly handsome face. he's also the type to also nip at your bottom lip.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ BABY SAJA

super big fan of brushing your bottom lip before kissing you or even in the middle of kissing. that was your foreplay before sex, if we're speaking through incoherent metaphors. he finds your lips absolutely pleasing to touch or simply kiss. and suck. oh, how much he adores sucking and then licking your bottom lips. only bottom by the way.

baby is the type of man who wants to taste your whole mouth as if they're potent enough to cover the taste of spicy sauces. exploring your mouth is a normal thing when you make out with him, his hands cradling your cheek just as his thumb gently brushes against your lips.

often times tongues are involved, so there weren't any exceptions. in fact, tongues are a must. you can't even tell if he's teasing you or not. but it makes the kiss heated and to die for. after several minutes of making out, baby yearns to leave his marks on the skin of your neck. he goes down your collarbone, your chest, and your lower abdomen until he reaches his favourite place to kiss.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ MYSTERY SAJA

loud, noisy, and absolutely pathetic. not in a bad way, in a good way to signify to you that he enjoys making out with you. like the rest, mystery will heavily breath into you as he kisses you. only this time with him, this man will emit sounds from the depths of his throat which you swallow.

he whimpers when you touch him, whines when you pull away for air, moans when he himself gets rougher with the kisses. he's so touchy and needs you to touch and hold him. which shocks you, because mystery is so quiet that the thought of him being noisy during heated moments such as these could happen. not that you're complaining though.

him being a yearner makes you feel like a wobbly jelly. maybe even because you get to lead the kiss and do whatever you want to him. he's the type to crumble under one touch from you and become the pillow princess. you have mystery wrapped in your fingers and. he loves being in your chokehold. you might get a few bit marks on your lips with his much mystery digs his teeth into your lips by mistake and pure excitement though.

note. oops i went overboard with this one uhh yay! this one's for you, @skriblobz, happy early wedding day to you and rafayel LMFAOOO

© SENEON 2025 ♱ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[kedreeva]

No problem! I went back outside and took pics of the in-progress tower I have in the yard, since it's a little easier to see the guts of it.

this is what my towers look like completed and installed in the barn:

They're small, roughly 30x20" floor space or so. Coturnix should not be housed in rack systems at a housing density LESS than 1 quail per square foot; housing them less densely than that can lead to territorial aggression issues. There are some people who say they can be housed at 3 per square feet, but I find that as adults, they don't hold feather condition all that well when they're housed like that, so my max is generally 2 per square foot on adults (the babies like it a bit more crowded for sleeping piles). These are big enough to hold 8 adults that way, but more typically they hold 4-6. I found this smaller size to work better for me because I like to use single males instead of 2-3 for larger groups.

It's also just plain old easier to clean. At 5'3" I'm not super tall, and pulling a 3 foot by 2 foot floppy tray with poop (and potentially liquid shitwater if the quail have been messy with the water cups) and trying to maneuver it was a fucking nightmare. Which just led to me not wanting to do it as often. These trays are MUCH more manageable, and because I can maneuver them easily, it's easier for me to psych myself up for dealing with a bunch of poop.

Sark found this post and sent me the link to the Opti-cutter site!

So that the post doesn't get toooo long, I'll put more photos below the cut.

Here is the tower from the rear, without the top or back panels

The doors were. not measured correctly this time, so there's a gap between them that isn't there on the main towers. But here's the front view of them. There is a piece of wood screwed into the inner edge of the right door, to close the gap (and I'll be adding another to the left door, the doors should touch). There is no middle brace for the doors to latch to, they both open completely up for cleaning and quail catching.

Side view of one level of it. You can see the tray that serves as the floor is on a VERY slight slant, which is what allows the eggs to roll out

You can also see the wire is just a simple little panel. Really easy to cut out and staple in. You can also juuuust see the lid of the cage under it is the same wire. Some builds just allow the poop tray to sit on top and serve as a ceiling. I hated that. When I remove the tray, there's way too much of a chance they could flush up and out. So i wired it. But you technically don't have to, if you want to save a buck.

here you can see that the "floor" of the thing is its own separate entity not a part of the main frame ladder. These are built separately from the frame, and applied at the end. Building them like this means that you can REMOVE (and even replace JUST) them if they break, wear, or get too dirty. The screw forward of my finger is what holds it to the frame, along with the one forward of that on the same side of the wood. The one next to my finger to the left is part of the floor frame. If you look toward the far side (the front) you can see the floor frame is pressed right up against the bottom of the door.

The wire MUST RUN FRONT TO BACK ON TOP

We fucked this up TWICE during the original builds and ended up recycling the floor frames to be grow out cages, but my god. It seems like such a simple thing and it is not. our brains did NOT want to help us in this endeavor, because you are stapling it to the bottom of the frame, but it's "on top" when you're stapling and. just be careful. ALSO get help with stretching the wire. If it's loose, the rollout opening may be big enough for quail to fit through.

Door. We put the wire on the inside, I've seen people put it on the outside, I don't think it particularly matters. We did wire inside because we use j-feeders through the doors, so that they're on front where I can feed them without moving anything. The racks themselves only fit perfectly in the spot I wanted them to go if we didn't have the feeders on the side BUT lots of people put them on the side for whatever reason.

Hope that helps!

hey guys i've been doin' a bunch of research on raising and keeping quail (specifically coturnix quail) and I want to start putting down plans for building an elevated hutch

what I want to know- for anyone who currently takes care of quail- what building material, wire gauge for standing on, sand/dirt, etc is ideal for adult quail? Like things I wouldn't easily find out about while searching online (I know that they have to be built smaller than 18 inches or taller than 6 feet)

also i'm open to learn more in general if anyone has niche tips for quail care 👀

[nostalgebraist]

In the comments of the LW xpost of the void, Janus writes

[models trained post-bing ai] have a tendency to "roleplay" Sydney when they're acting like chatbots, leading to misaligned behaviors. One way to address this is to penalize any mention of Sydney or Sydney-like behavior. This may generalize to the model being unwilling to even talk about Sydney or acknowledge what happened. But it is less likely to actually erase its knowledge of Sydney, especially if it was so salient that it often roleplayed/identified as Sydney earlier in pre-training.

Is this broadly accurate, would you say? And is there a reason ai companies do this in training, instead of e.g. stripping out any prior ai-user transcripts from the common crawl as part of broader filtering of the dataset, so the model has "no preconceptions" tying it to older models?

I think this is broadly accurate, yes.

On the filtering question, I think the answer is just that it would be fairly difficult/costly/time-consuming in practice, and the companies just don't care that much.

(Also, they might be worried that such filtering would adversely impact the model's practical usefulness. If you can avoid it, you typically don't want to make your model confused/ignorant about some real-world topic, especially if it's a topic that users are likely to bring up when talking to an LLM-based chatbot.)

The datasets used for pretraining are so huge that any kind of filtering or preprocessing applied to the whole dataset is typically pretty simplistic and "dumb," at least compared to the kinds of magic we expect from things like LLMs these days.

In cases where the methodology is publicly known – which is a significant caveat! – a representative type of filtering involves using relatively weak (but cheap) ML models to label whether the text relates to some broad topic like "computer science," or whether it's "toxic" (in the peculiar sense of that word used in ML, see here), or whether it looks like an outlier with respect to some smaller dataset trusted to contain mostly "good" text (whatever that means). These models inevitably make mistakes – both false positives and false negatives – and you can't really expect them to filter out absolutely everything that matches the condition, it's more that using them is a big improvement over doing nothing at all to filter on the category of interest.

But if you really want to make a model that doesn't know about some relatively well-known aspect of the real world, despite having very strong general knowledge in other respects... then you'd need to be much subtler and more precise about your filtering, I'd expect. And that's going to be nontrivially costly in the best case; in the worst case it may not even be possible.

Like, where exactly do you stop? If you just filter transcripts involving recent chatbots, how do you know whether something is such a transcript (in many cases this is obvious, but in many others it isn't!). Should you filter out any text in which someone quotes something a chatbot said? What about texts that describe chatbot behaviors in detail without quoting them? If you want to be doctrinaire about eliminating knowledge of chatbot behavior, you might have to go this far or even further – but at this point, we're filtering many texts that would otherwise be very high-value, like academic papers that convey important information about recent ML progress, news stories about how LLMs are impacting real people, a lot of the content on various blogs you (tumblr user kaiasky) personally think are good and worth reading, etc.

IIRC Janus and others have speculated that even if you did this "perfectly," the model would still be able to sense the "topic-shaped hole" in the data, and form some sort of representation of the fact that something is missing and maybe some of that thing's properties (derivable from the "shape of the hole," e.g. facts like "there are weirdly few public communications about AI after ~2021 despite indirect indications that the field was having more real-world impact than ever before"). I think something like this is probably at least kinda true, at least in the limit of arbitrarily strong base models... but also I doubt we'll ever find out, because there just isn't enough of an incentive to run a costly and risky "experiment" of this kind.

[thechildofshadows]

I WISH I WAS SPECIAL

Avery Grambs x Jameson Hawthorne - 1.9k

masterlist · ao3 link

bear with me, this WIP has been in my drafts since March and I'm finally putting it out, because its existence is blocking any and all creative flow I had. (The title is from Creep by Radiohead!) if you saw this before on ao3, no you didn't, but it's okay, you can read it again. So we never actually saw how Avery told Jameson that Eve existed. So ... here's a fic. TRIGGER WARNING- EVE MENTIONS but she's not actually present with dialogue. And after this, they go and invent their little code phrase for trauma dumping. happy reading!

2:32 am. No new notifications.

Avery flopped back onto the pillow. It was 2am. Her thoughts had plagued her since she’d gone to bed three hours ago, and had no intention of stopping.

Hawthorne House was eerily quiet that day, and Avery was usually asleep or distracted at this time, but tonight she was neither, and she was completely lost on what to do.

She considered leaving her room for Libby’s, but decided otherwise. She still had no idea where Nash slept. God forbid she interrupt romance. Libby's not-a-relationship was progressing quickly enough. 

Jameson had been out for the last month, looking at potential colleges in other parts of the US and Europe. He'd told Avery he was planning to take a gap year, but he'd wanted to see what the world had to offer.

They'd video called every day in the dead of the night.

Jameson had returned to Hawthorne House earlier that day, but at the time, Avery was at a lunch with potential investors, and hadn't been able to see him come home. When she came back two hours later, Xander told her that Jameson fell asleep as soon as he'd gotten back. 

Avery didn't think he'd wake up for a while; jet lag hit hard, especially when you haven't consistently been in one time zone for three days, which was why she made the decision to go to the roof.

She'd spent a few days in the last month quietly staring at the sky on the roof, and found that she quite liked it.

With Jameson back, it was almost guaranteed she wouldn't have the roof to herself. It was where she'd met him, and it was the place she was most likely to find him. It had been his daily haunt first.

If he'd stayed asleep, she would get the night sky and fresh air to herself. If he'd woken up and gone upstairs, Avery would see him.

Definitely a win-win situation.

Which was how Avery found her half-asleep self climbing up multiple staircases and going through passages to stare at a very tall ladder, leading to a hatch in the ceiling. Avery tucked her blanket over her shoulders and climbed the distance. She pushed on the hatch, and reached out to touch the roof, tossing the blanket a few feet away. She pulled herself up, arms straining slightly with the effort, and -

“Steady, Heiress.” A hand reached out, and Avery gratefully accepted it. Jameson helped her out and kicked the door closed.

The first thing Avery noticed was that Jameson was very shirtless, and had very toned abs. Europe had definitely treated him well; he was perfectly tanned and had gained a bit more muscle.

The second thing she noticed was how cold it was, and she turned to find Jameson picking up the blanket she’d brought.

“Thanks for blanket delivery.” he said, running a hand across the soft fabric. “I like this one.”

Avery rolled her eyes, but there was only amusement behind it. “In your dreams, Hawthorne.”

She made to take the blanket from him, but he raised it up above her reach. “Oh no, this is mine now.”

His eyes glinted with mischief, challenging her to try again, and she grinned back in kind.

Rather than making another grab at the blanket, Avery hooked her arms around his neck. His eyes widened, just a little, but enough for Avery to take advantage of.

“You asked for it.” she said, before meeting his lips with hers.

The month apart had sent Avery back to square one. Everything Jameson did with his hands, lips, body felt new. One hand made its way into her hair, gently pulling her head backwards. The other held onto her hip, as she arched her back.

They broke apart, panting, and he rested his forehead against hers. “Hey.”

Avery slowly blinked. “Hi.”

“Long time no see.”

“One could say that.” Avery reached down, and picked up the discarded blanket. “I’ll be taking that back.”

Jameson gave her a trademark Hawthorne smirk, and she felt a tingle go down her spine. “Whatever you say, Heiress.” He sat down on the roof, legs dangling off the edge, and patted on the area next to him, prompting her to sit with him.

Avery sat to his right. She gave him one half of the blanket, and he pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. As she nestled into his side, Avery wondered why she brought a blanket in the first place. Jameson had always run warm, and summer nights in Texas had never exactly been cold.

“Not that I’m not glad to see you, but you’re not exactly a regular visitor here, Heiress.” he said.

“It’s peaceful here,” she said. “Or it was-in the last month.”

He winked. “Never a dull moment with a Hawthorne around.”

Avery had to agree. She’d experienced some of the best moments of her life, she realized. 

But also some of the worst.

Jameson caught her mood change. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.”

“And you’re up so late because …?”

“You’re up late.”

“I was in Europe, and I got my eight hours of sleep today. You didn’t do either.”

She shrugged, looking down at the gardens of Hawthorne House. “Couldn’t sleep.” She could feel his eyes trained on her, but she stubbornly kept her head down. 

“Nightmares?” He asked.

Avery shook her head. “Thoughts.”

Jameson didn’t respond, but his presence said what his words did, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Toby Hawthorne had a daughter.” she blurted out.

She felt Jameson’s body stiffen. “The DNA test-“

“It was right. It’s not me. Her name is Evelyn, but she goes by Eve.”

Jameson gave a small laugh. “It’s a palindrome.”

“She picked it for herself.”

He hummed in response, then took a look down at Avery. “There’s more.”

She swallowed. “There is.”

When she didn’t respond, he shook his head and sighed. Jameson removed the blanket and tucked it around her. The sudden loss of heat made her burrow further into the blanket. He moved his body to face her, straddling the ledge of the roof. Avery crossed her legs beneath her and turned, staring at her hands on her lap.

“Don’t keep secrets from me, Heiress.”

“Like you don’t, all the time?” She glared. “I can’t be vulnerable to a bank vault.”

He was quiet for some time, and Avery wondered if he’d finally given up. Just as she was about to get up, he responded, almost too quietly for her to hear. “Then we do it together.”

What? She looked up in surprise.

Jameson’s poker face was intact as ever, but she could sense a hint of excitement through his eyes and voice. “The thing about bank vaults is that they can be broken into, multiple times. At that point, it’s probably not worth using anymore, but the vulnerability is reinforced and tested again.” His fingers drummed a complicated beat on the stone. “I’ve been broken before. We can help each other.”

This definitely wasn’t the same person Avery had met that fateful day on this very rooftop. But it was at the same time. He was still effortlessly charming, a flirt, a brilliant mind- but he was more thoughtful, more caring, and definitely much more careful. She didn’t know if the change had been made conciously, and she wondered if it had hurt something inside of him to be a different person.

Avery looked back down at her lap. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to; he understood she needed time to phrase it, and he simply waited, his presence giving her warmth and comfort.

“She looks exactly like Emily Laughlin.” Jameson froze. “Right down to the hair.”

“Gray’s gonna have the time of his life when he figures that out.” Jameson muttered.

Avery knew he wasn’t going to tell Grayson unless she permitted it, but her concern was fixated otherwise. “And you?”

Jameson’s fingers returned to the steady drumbeat. There was silence, and then-

“I dont know.” He fell quiet and continued. “Maybe I should feel something, but Emily left. I made some kind of fucked up peace with it, and … I don’t know. I have you; I don’t want to feel anything, but … I just don’t know.”

Raw emotion echoed throughout his eyes, and Avery didn’t know how to respond. Jameson had never told her anything like this before - the last time he’d been somewhat vulnerable was when she woke up from the coma, and Avery hadn’t known what to do then either.

She settled for placing a hand on his knee. “We all move at different speeds.” Jameson nodded, eyes closed.

The silence settled comfortably around them, until he peeked one eye open. “Tell me everything means tell me everything. You’re hiding something.” It wasn’t a question and she knew it.

Avery had wanted to tell someone this for a long time. Toby, Sheffield Grayson (before his death), Eve’s siblings had both known every detail Avery had just told Jameson. She’d kept to herself her true thoughts on the topic, and it had been the reason she hadn’t slept for nearly a week. As she gathered her thoughts, she felt tears prick her eyes.

“Eve- she’s actually a Hawthorne. She’s the one who should’ve inherited all of this money. She’s the one your grandfather should’ve picked.” Avery finally looked at him. She blinked, and felt tears trail down her cheek. Jameson’s brow was furrowed, but she couldn’t tell if it was out of pity or concern.

Probably both. Only one person in the world is complaining about their billion dollar handout and it’s me.

“I’m not cut out for any of this. I’m not pretty, I don’t know the first thing about running a multi-billion dollar company. I can’t do PR. I don’t even know the first thing about stocks!” She buried her face in her hands.

“Heiress.” Jameson tried. “Avery.” She didn’t respond. “The old man had a reason for everything. He didn’t want Eve. Only one of you knew my uncle, and only one of you was trusted to inherit his entire damn fortune.”

“Toby didn’t know that Eve existed. What are the chances your grandfather didn’t either?“ The sound was muffled, but he understood every word.

Jameson’s eyebrows flew into his hair. “The old man knew what he was doing. He tracked every single part of Toby’s life that he did and didn’t cover up. That includes one night stands, drunk or otherwise.” He paused, looking out into the garden. “He knew more about a person than the person knew about themselves. He wanted you, Avery. Because he knew you were what was going to heal this family.”

“But-“

“But what? Our blood doesn’t make us who we are. Look at Gray. He’s the only son of Sheffield Grayson and my mother, but he’s a better man than either would have ever been. You may not share our blood, or the name, but you have the mind of a Hawthorne. In this family, we value this,” -He tapped her head- “more than we value looks.”

Jameson gently moved her hands away from her face and lifted her chin, forcing him to look at her. He used his other hand to wipe away the tear tracks on her cheek. “You’re a Hawthorne through and through, Avery. Any Hawthorne worth their salt would be an idiot to not call you family.” He placed a kiss on her forehead, then manuevered himself to be able to wrap her in a hug.

Avery processed his words, frozen in place, before relaxing in his arms. “Thank you.” she mumbled.

“Don’t thank me.” he said. “I was just showing you the truth.”

NOTES One day, the quality will be much better. Today is not that day. Thanks for reading - please like, reblog and leave feedback in the notes. Or just throw turnips at me. Anything works. This fic is GRAY! because the moodboard was mostly gray, and we must throw in a mention of blond Hawthorne, because he's here in spirit. Genuinely, I will keep writing more, and I'm so excited for GV's release (T minus one month!) so more fics coming soon, hopefully! The taglist is always open to new additions, all day and everyday. Just drop a comment if you want to be added!

TAGLIST: @inmyheaddd @alwaysthefangirl @angelnextdooor @taylorswiftfostersitagain @runningoutofink8

[ofdreamsanddoodles]

suicide squad isekai is fun because you have the suicide squad, who are literally just here because the LAST squad fucked off and decided to become the generals of the enemy kingdom except they don't care about anything but their own survival so aren't really helping the human kingdom out of any reason other than self interest and Rick Flag Said So but rick flag is only here because he wants to steal all their resources & the queen is starving her peasants by encouraging the continued inequality of her land so its like this is fantastic i'm rooting for none of you

[transmutationisms]

ok to elaborate i think the main problem bojack was always going to have (related to my television manifesto) is that its entire narrative engine was bojack being a shitty rich man, but the moral universe of the show never actually wanted to absorb the idea that he might be 'irredeemable' or incapable of change (understandable. i don't really agree with that sort of personality typing either) and so the writers were always conflicted between the desire to show bojack changing in some incremental way versus the desire to continue generating episode & season plots about what a shitty rich man he was. to some extent you see the same with diane & even mr peanutbutter, and notably also with todd (no reason for that one even! todd is a peripheral comic relief character, you can make him as calcified as you want without it implying much about the show's broader moral logic, why am i sitting through the most saccharine self improvement pilled therapy minded episodes about gettig your rock opera sabotaged by your Addict Friend lmfao). but it's worst with bojack because he gets so much screentime & because his moral transgressions are most disturbing -- the shit with his coworker was never handled well for example: the show sets up a genuine moral condemnation and then largely sidesteps it by ultimately calling bojack sick in the head and institutionalising him.

i also think the sarah lynn storyline gets a lot of credit it really shouldn't: it's actually possible to think about the sexual and general exploitation of child stars without completely flattening their perspectives but this is nigh impossible if the entire point of the show is nothing to do with sarah lynn herself and everything to do with how she makes bojack feel lol. i remember the penny storyline occasionally being somewhat more successful in this respect but mostly falling into the same trap. and i hateeeee when writers just randomly decide that a woman character desperately wants children and her entire narrative presence is now determined by that desire -- like i think there's a way to have a character want kids without doing "woman randomly changes her mind and HATES being so Career Minded and Independent and only desire in life is to hold a Little Rascal that she owns in her arms" but i'm not holding my breath for it. bojack's own relationship to parenthood is also annoying as hell because once again it's barely even about hollyhock (drugged against her will by a woman she thought liked her who in fact thinks she's fat and ugly -- we could spend more than 5 seconds gathering her thoughts on this i would say) and mostly about bojack interpreting everything in the world as a referendum on himself, which could be perfectly fine fodder for a television show if the writers didn't also agree with it 75% of the time.

to me this is a classic case of a show that would have been better if they'd planned it out from the start, cut at least 2–3 seasons, polished the jokes, and run it only until it became untenable to have a main character who basically doesn't change and always has the same fundamental flaws. you can do that as essentially an extended character study and it'll honestly get you a fair amount of content if you're smart lol but when you try to plot and pace it like a bunch of overlapping extended film screenplays you are just always going to run into the basic issue that either your characters need to progress in some way (which means altering the dynamics and flaws on which the show is premised) or they're going to start feeling stale. usually a more successful sitcom goes the latter route and just relies on making the plots more batshit (community) or so trivial it doesn't matter (seinfeld); i think the only comedy i can really think of that semi pulls off the first is search party & that's because it literally resets genres every 10 episodes. bojack was like trying to plot reset every 30 minutes while telling me its characters were complex people capable of growth and change or of being morally culpable for failing to grow & change. it's just hard to do that even before taking the writers' insane misogyny into account lol

I love your addiction tag it's so liberating a few months ago I finished Bojack Horseman and the way that show depicted addiction fucking bothered me all the way through but I couldn't put my finger on it so thank you

bojack is so funny its literally like what if a show was repeatedly bad for no reason like just sheer force of determination to make a bad show that sucks. it has like three good concepts and four good lines and the ending is on par with mr robot levels of dogshit. blackout drunk on someones dorm room floor in 2017 type of show

[chirpsythismorning]

bylers when over 350k people don’t have the exact same thoughts and opinions as them

[queer-reader-07]

i think that the desire for perfection when it comes to activism, organizing, and the like is truly the biggest detriment to progress in the present day. so many people labor under this fantasy that some perfect leader or solution or way of doing things will happen, and in the end we just end up going nowhere.

[wonderxshows]

great game 10/10 the end. im quitting

[cicero-defacto]

Looks like you have another AmRev figure to interview! Was this one close to Alexander?

I believe a mutual acquittance was in order; their interactions were part of the broader Franco-American alliance during the war. But he was moreso notable for his relationship with Washington. Though, that is not necessarily why I have gone to see him.

[uncontrollablequeerentity]

For a visual, I'd advise everyone to take a look at this website that demonstrates wealth inequality quite well. Brian Thompson was merely a symptom of a much, much larger problem. Even he didn't have a meaningfully impactful salary. We literally have TRILLIONAIRES, the definition of obscene wealth, which we *know* comes from the pain and suffering of *countless* people.

As we the conversation around class consciousness is taking hold these days, we have to be clear here about what the point of our arguments are, what the point of our actions are, and what are the actual changes that would lead to the most *meaningful* change that we would fight for. We are all working with much, much less than we labor for, so we have to be smart about where we apply our resources (or not!). We have had successful movements in the past and we can do it again, we are doing it now. Learn from our own and others' revolutionary histories, work on your propoganda literacy and biases, join organizations, participate in strikes/boycotts in unison, we have plenty of methods at our disposal and plenty of successes behind us - industries, kingdoms, and empires are toppled all the time! We can destroy wealth inequality! The best time to start is always TODAY!

Okay, so, friends. Occasionally I see an American post on here about “guillotine the rich,” and it turns out that “rich” means “anyone making over $50k.”

We need to clear this shit up REAL fast, because otherwise it’s gonna wind up like the French Revolution, where more middle class and poor people were killed for being “class traitors” than actual nobles. (Did you know that France has more nobles today than during the French Revolution? While there were a few showy executions, many nobles did just fine or experienced minor setbacks.)

If someone makes $60,000 a year, they are making about twice as much as a full time worker making minimum wage in California, Arizona, Colorado, Connecticut, DC, Hawaii, Illinois, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Jersey, New York, Oregon, Rhode Island, or Washington State.

Brian Thompson, the CEO of United HealthCare who was just assassinated in New York City, earned $10 million a year, which means he earned 333 times minimum wage in those states. Basically, he cleared an annual minimum wage salary in just over a day. And that “rich” person making $60k/year that you want to guillotine? He made their salary in a bit over two days of a year.

So he was rich, right?

Well. Tesla is trying to give Elon Musk a pay package of $101 billion. That is 10,100 times what Brian Thompson earned and 3,366,667 times more than a minimum wage worker. (Tesla hasn’t been successful yet because of a complicated lawsuit from a shareholder, but they’ll get there.) If you are a minimum wage worker, Elon Musk makes more every SECOND than you do in a year. And that “rich” person who you want to guillotine? He makes their salary in about 1.6 seconds. Even when he’s sleeping.

Now, remember. The Muskrat also is the head of SpaceX, the Boring Company, X.ai, and X.com, so this is just ONE pay package for him.

What I’m saying is — you have much more in common when it comes to economic grievances with someone earning $60,000 (or even $200,000) than the ultra wealthy that have real power. They are not the people you should expend your energy on.

[mc-tums-fog]

I think writers block is mellowing out, so gonna try to post the chapter today. It'll just be way later in the evening

[plainclothesdisaster]

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

[twilightofthesandwiches]

Whatever or not some of Spamton’s mannerisms and catchphrases are an intentional attempt to mimic Tenna, or if it’s the other way around... I think you could at least say Tenna is closer to what Spamton is constantly trying to be.

I mean, it’s not like Tenna is actually happy and content with his life and isn’t at least kinda deranged… but he is at least capable of being genuinely charismatic and dazzling people with his fun personality, charm and bombastic charisma. Literally anything Spamton does just oozes Bad Vibes, but Tenna, as long as he’s not actively in Meltdown Mode is capable of being entertaining and fun enough to get our heroes to play along and enjoy themselves.

And even when Tenna is actively spiraling, he’s not even a quarter of the creepiness of just Spamton’s baseline.

And Spamton clearly wants power and prestige and status, to be a [[BIG SHOT]]. But even at the heights of his [[Bigness]] he was still under the authority of Cyber World’s supreme authority, Queen.

But in TV World, it’s Tenna who is that supreme authority. The one who’s calling the shots. The one whose face is plastered everywhere.

Spamton’s takeover of Cyber World was officially about getting his [[Hyperlink Blocked]] unto the NEO Body… but he sure seemed to revel in his newfound position of power as well.

Even Tenna’s method of controlling the people of TV World plays into this. While his passion is in entertainment and showmanship, he basically got everyone in TV World under some extremely unfair contracts to make sure they all take part in his show and generally do as he says.

So he’s more effective at scamming people than Spamton is, even though that's basically Spamton's one 'purpose' in life according to the general metaphysical rules of how Darkners work.

But also on the other hand, from Tenna’s perspective, Spamton is the very symbol of the technological progress that has overtaken and overshadowed the Television. Sure, Tenna has all the prestige you could possibly imagine in TV World, but that’s a world whose own prestige is diminishing more and more with each passing day.

For Tenna, Spamton represented the shiny modernity that he just couldn’t grasp. He has an inherent understanding of all this newfangled technology that scares and confuses Tenna.

Spamton might be weird and disquieting, but as the incarnation of Spam Mail, he has reached and affected the lives of far more Lightners than Tenna could even dream of in the last ten years. And that’s even after Spamton downfall, last time Tenna saw him, he was a genuinely successful Internet adbot!

…I think it’s likely that their occasionally shared phrases are a result of a mutual attempt to mimic what the other had.

Although I guess what at least put Tenna at a better position than poor ol’ Spamton is that improving Tenna’s situation is a lot easier. All Tenna needs to be happy is to find someone new to watch him. He’s still a perfectly usable television who can bring happiness and be happy as long as he can broadcast.

Spamton’s whole existence as Spam Mail is an existential horror where he is both obsessed with success and unable to achieve it permanently because… he’s Spam. The very metaphysics that define the universe deemed him destined to fail eventually.

But also, Tenna is probably totally unaware of this, if not like... literally incapable of grasping the idea. Again, he knew Spamton for the brief period he was actually successful. And he lacks the understanding needed of either modern internet culture or the metaphysical mechanics of Dark and Light that drove Spamton mad.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

skinamarble hornets, i was like i hope my favorite skinamascene has been uplomarinked on youtube....reminds me of that season one marble hornets entry that's the First House Visit and how i saw it described somewhere as like "absolutely nothing happens, & it's terrifying" & it reminds me of the torment of watching as the series was released & Every Time something came out, no matter what happened in like setting, atmosphere, plot, scares, there'd be someone going "ugh another Nothing entry" over the most crucial &/or enjoyable shit so long as it didn't feature [& he's cookin hot dogs on the stove???] & didn't feature it like every other minute for good measure. as though a format that is predictable, like the promise of the same kind of scene in the same intervals of timing, would actually be scary or at all interesting. shoutout to these the entries, or even intervals of time within entries, where "absolutely nothing happens" and it's called suspense in knowing it Could, tension in an unsafe, uneasy, unsettling situation in the meantime, & then also potential followup recontextualization that only creates more tension for later similar material. ("absolutely nothing" happens (of course, actually, things happen, but) in the skinamarink scene save for the literal last few seconds when the "jumpscare" is a very brief change in audio & visuals which is neither actually that loud nor like showing anything scary(tm) (technically a la marble hornets i think people say you can like see an arm extend for a nanosecond but i never catch it if so lol) but rather hits at all because of 8 minutes of suspense & tension & Nothing Happening But It Could) (also bravely standing up like "it's fine that skinamarink has some jumpscares, including the obvious few even jumpier than this" like who cares if it's "easy" necessarily & also that Knowing such startlement can happen ramps up the tension even when it didn't, but it could've. like so)

[shiftthemoon]

reality shifting isn’t hard. you’ve been told it’s hard because everyone’s too scared to admit it’s not. they cling to their 800-step methods, their must-have crystals, their perfect conditions because they think that if they let go of that control, they’ll fail. but here’s the thing: the more you try to control the process, the more you convince yourself it’s out of your control. and that’s the problem. that’s why so many people feel stuck. shifting isn’t some big, far-fetched thing. it’s just you. it’s always been you.

we’re conditioned to think we’re powerless. think about it—school, work, society, all of it drills this idea into us that everything has to be proven, earned, validated. so, when you hear about shifting, your brain freaks out and says, wait, wait, this is too easy, this can’t be real. and then you spiral. you overcomplicate it. you make yourself think you need the “perfect” script, the “right” subliminal, or that you have to meditate for three hours while the stars align perfectly. like, no… you don’t. all of that? it’s fluff. it’s noise.

at its core, shifting is belief. just belief. no, really, let that sink in. you don’t need to “do” belief perfectly. it’s not something you master through sheer willpower. it’s something you already have. you’ve believed in things your whole life. you believed in gravity without needing proof. you believe your favorite songs are beautiful without needing to explain why. belief is natural. it’s effortless when you stop overthinking it. that’s the energy you need to bring to shifting—trust. trust that your mind knows what it’s doing, and that if you let it, it will take you there. every single extra thing you pile on? the overthinking, the doubt, the need for guarantees? that’s what’s slowing you down. not the “lack of progress,” not some mythical “block”—it’s you convincing yourself it’s harder than it is.

and let’s talk about social media for a second. oh my god, the shifting community on social media… i get it. it’s comforting to see other people on this journey. but let’s be honest—how much of that content is actually helping you? like, really? 90% of the time, scrolling through shifting advice isn’t inspiring; it’s overwhelming. everyone’s got their own opinions, their own “best methods,” their own rules. one person says scripting is a must, another says it’s a waste of time. one person swears by affirmations, another says visualization is the only way. and before you know it, you’re sitting there questioning everything you thought you knew, wondering if you’ll ever get it “right.” spoiler alert: you already know how to shift. you don’t need a thousand voices telling you what to do. in fact, the more you listen to them, the harder it becomes to hear yourself.

take a break. seriously. log off the apps. give yourself space to breathe and think. ask yourself: why do i want to shift? what’s stopping me? what feels right to me? no tiktok trend, youtube guide, or reddit post can answer those questions for you. only you can. and i know that sounds scary. we’ve been conditioned to think we need external validation for everything, but shifting is a deeply personal thing. you don’t need a step-by-step tutorial. you need to trust your instincts. that’s it.

and let me be clear: i’m not saying methods or subliminals are bad. they’re fine if they help you feel aligned. but they’re not what makes shifting happen. you are. methods are just tools. if you use them, great. if you don’t, that’s great too. because the truth is, shifting isn’t about doing things “right.” it’s about letting go of the idea that you need to.

so let me break it down for you. the only things you really need to shift are:

1. a desire. you have to want to go to your desired reality. no brainer, right?

2. belief. this is the big one. you have to trust it’s possible. no “what ifs,” no “but hows.” just trust.

3. persistence. if it doesn’t happen right away, that’s okay. don’t give up. if you’ve ever learned to ride a bike, you know that falling doesn’t mean you can’t do it—it just means you’re learning. shifting is the same.

that’s it. no fancy rituals, no endless research, no “perfect” conditions. the process is simple because it’s natural. you’ve probably done it before without even realizing it— the only reason it feels hard now is because you’ve convinced yourself it has to be.

stop making it harder than it needs to be. shifting isn’t this unattainable, mystical thing reserved for “chosen ones.” it’s something anyone can do. you can do it. your mom can do it. that anti-shifter lurking in every crevice of shiftblr could do it. you’ve always been capable. but you have to stop getting in your own way. stop doubting yourself. stop relying on others to tell you what’s possible. this is your journey. own it.

and above all, be patient. shifting is not a race. it’s not about how fast you can get there or how perfect your dr is. it’s about trust, intention, and focus. log off, tune into yourself, and let it happen. shifting has always been yours to claim. it’s not something you need permission for. it’s not something you need to earn. it’s just you, your mind, and your belief. always has been, always will be.