#also since making this i have learned how to make edits into an actual square LMAO

[speedilyeverafter]

carry me out - sonadow

Idk how to feel about this edit, but it's been in my files for a while and I thought I might as well just post it :)

ALSO REMEMBER YOUR DAILY CLICKS!!: https://arab.org/

[stuffnonsenseandotherthings]

CityBoy_Log: Blurring the Lines Between Fiction and Reality.

I was doing my daily scroll through YouTube one day when a thumbnail (this thumbnail) caught my eye:

Now, at first glance I'll admit there's nothing exceptional about it. In fact, it's so perfectly run of the mill that I actually thought it was a vlog from a new K-pop band that I hadn't heard of before at first. The name, the picture they chose, the title.... all of it checked out and I had no reason to be suspicious that it was anything other than it seemed.

Anyway, I was bored, it had been a while since YouTube had recommended me anything K-pop that wasn't a group I was already subscribed to and I was feeling nostalgic for a good K-pop vlog.

It was only 5 minutes

What harm could it possibly do?

So I clicked on it.

And then I feel down a rabbit hole.

CityBoy_Log: The Drama

So it turns out that "CityBoy_Log" is not, in fact, a K-pop group's travel vlog series, nor is it a vlog series at all...

Well, it is...

But not really.

It's actually an 11 episode BL drama.

Summary:

Idol Lee Jae Jun, model/actor Lee Ji Han, actor Seo Byuk Joon, and rookie model Ahn Hyo Sang start a vlog channel about their trip to Okinawa, Japan for a photoshoot. The four meet for the first time (aside from JaeJun and Byuk Joon, who are longtime friends) when they learn they will be sharing a home during the trip. Though Ji Han's introduction caused some tension within the circle, the group's feelings towards each other start to change and grow as they keep vlogging. The vlogs show how their individual friendships develop by the end of their stay and after coming back to Seoul, some even beyond just platonic. (Mydramalist)

On the face of things, "CityBoy_Log" is a pretty straight forward drama (some might even call it mundane). Four friends navigating their relationships with each other on a trip. There's a main couple and a side couple and plenty of pining and love squares to keep the audience and the characters on their toes. Really nothing standout in a world where Semantic Error, Love for Love's Sake, and Eighth Sense exist, right?

Except the format.... the format is something else.

Because when the summary says "the vlogs", it really means the vlogs.

"CityBoy_Log" is a BL drama told entirely in character.

Like your typical k-vlog, the majority of the content comes from hand-held cameras carried about by the characters, only occasionally interspersed with aesthetic shots from their "camera crew". The characters talk openly to the audience, updating them on what's going on and what they're thinking and feeling; transitions between scenes are choppy and periods of time are missed due to "unfilmable" moments that we either only catch glimpses of or are told about later (or in some cases, have to fill in the blanks ourselves); dialogue is choppy and sometimes even awkward (especially as they're still getting to know each other) and voice cracks, nonsensical lines, and awkward pauses are all over the place.

It is feels messy, lightly edited, unscripted, and, for the most part, very very real.

Blurring the Boundaries Between Fiction and Reality.

Seeing how far the creators of the show have gone to make this drama feel realistic is fascinating. All the episodes are posted as vlog episodes on the show's YouTube Channel, they post additional shorts that follow the latest trends, and even have celebratory lives where they talk to fans. And all of this is done in character.

They also have an Instagram page and on MDL there is very little information about the actors (who use their real names for their characters) and no information about the team behind the scenes (although I suspect they're linked to whoever made Semantic Error because that show gets name dropped a lot and they even "audition" for the upcoming drama made by it's creators) .

Given how much effort has gone into making "CityBoy_Log" pass as real it shouldn't be surprising that there are quite a few people who believed it was real for a time.

Now personally I am a huge fan of innovative storytelling techniques and "CityBoy_Log" has really hit it out of the part creatively (it reminds me a little of SKAM in that respect). I applaud the actors for just how realistic their characters feel (I actually can think of anything harder than having to pull off "act like you're not acting" and they do it flawlessly at least 90% of the time) and whoever came up with and executed the show really did something special too. It's an incredibly compelling watch (I binged it) and I immediately felt connected to all the characters in a way it normally takes a drama a few episodes to set up.

Do I have my doubts about how wise it is to blur the lines between fiction and reality so much? I won't lie, yes, especially as this show is rooted so heavily in 2 fandoms where those boundaries are already heavily blurred but for now I'll trust that they know what they're doing (perhaps more so than many other shows that draw heavily on fan service). It does seem like, at least for now, while everything feels real and in character, that it does exist in its own little bubble and that the actors involved are able to leave it behind when they get off work.

Anyway, it'll be interesting to see how it progresses, given that a second season has been confirmed and there was.... a very interesting reveal at the end of the last episode. I'm looking forward to how they continue to play with the format and getting to spend more time with Jae Jun, Ji Han, Byeok Jun, and Hyo Sang

🔗Here's a link to the channel if anyone wants to check it out:

https://youtube.com/@CITYBOY_LOG?si=CKqz8QdfzySCqRyL

CityBoy_Log: The Vlog

Team Hyo Sang all the way. All this puppy wants is for his hyung to notice him and he is adorable about it.

Tagging @lurkingshan @twig-tea @respectthepetty and @rocketturtle4 because I don't know if you guys have seen the show yet!

[smorbee]

iBook Pyramid Behind the scenes!

This is a long one. Also keep in mind we made this a year ago so were going completely off of memory at this point BUT we do have the files. Unfortunately we didn't save specific versions of it really early into its creation so all the blender files close to being finished.

We have an intense appreciation for funky old computers. People correctly identified inspiration from the Thinkpad 701C. Less obvious in the final design but something that almost certainly influenced us as well was the 12-inch powerbook g4.

There is something very satisfying about nearly-square shaped laptops.

Others mentioned the JVC 3100R pyramid TV which, you'll be surprised to learn, we had never actually seen until after working on this project. The resemblance is uncanny and yet, entirely coincidental. Honestly if we had seen this thing, it probably would have had an effect on our design because the way that hinge is set up is beautiful. Our thought process was simply just comically emulating the form factor of a modern laptop but with a giant CRT.

We're pretty sure the idea started out as simply wanting to design a full profile keyboard into a macbook-like laptop because funny, and at some point the butterfly keyboard came to mind and we said Screw it and implemented that into it as well. Heres the keyboard separated into the different sections.

Sorry to say that the keyboard does not actually contain any switches. (You'll see that this computer was modeled to be viewed a limited angle)

Heres the keyboard from the top.

Once we got going with it, the whole thing was turned into a big joke of course, clashing many different eras of technology into one. Such as this massive beige tank of a "laptop" having a single USB C port as its main I/O.

And same with the software. This is the texture for the display, Which was taken from our real (unfortunately not crt based) macbook setup at the time. Except not quite, as the original screenshot was 16:10. We simply edited the image to make it 4:3. This is running mac os 12 with a majority of the icons changed to early osx equivalents.

We'll be real and admit the animation is not very intricate, theres no real "rig" for the model, parts are just parented together because we did all this in about 2 days. That said, we had loads of fun animating it still, trying to imitate the motion of someone struggling to lift the heavy top up before it swings open with an inaudible, but easily imaginable "Thud". Making the whole body shake and the trackball jump slightly was the finishing touch to make it complete.

The wire for the trackball was made using a circle with the screw modifier and then applied to a curve. Here's what it looks like with each modifier applied sequentially.

And then making the trackball itself a handle for the curve, we can have the cable be dynamic. (Yes, we notice that the trackball in fact has no mouse buttons. No good explanation for that, I think we just forgot lmao.)

For the screen, we make use of a location transform on the UV mapping for the satisfying detail of the screen distorting from the impact, which we swear we've seen before but no matter how hard we (safely) bumped our CRT monitor we weren't able to recreate it. Nonetheless even if its not entirely realistic we wouldn't remove it for anything.

speaking of which, an utterly useless detail considering the resolution and distortion of the final renders and yet we added anyways just for our own amusement is that the display has a shadowmask, simply done by just multiplying it over the base screen texture.

Combined with a glass material over the inner part of the screen, it utterly destroys low sample count renders of the screen and makes the project at least 3x as prone to crashing so thats cool! (it crashed on us while we were writing this section)

We've learned since in future projects that trying to optimize polygon count and materials is still very important even for offline rendered content. We can never be truly free from the constraints of memory limitations 😔

the final step was getting a more authentic less "polished" look in the compositing. This step can get very complicated based on the specific look were going for, but for this render its really just basic color correction and some blurring and sharpening steps. We used the default fake jitter node in blender at the time, though in more recent stuff we use the non-denoised image with filters applied to it instead, so its less uniform between images and more uniquely degraded looking.

Though we'd do a number of things differently now were still pleased with the final result. especially in animated form.

Heres an overview of the scene:

This is the bezeled apple logo in polygon form. Its simply an alpha texture with a normal map:

Thats all for now! Thank you for reading!

[legobiwan]

Mario and Luigi "no one is going to hurt you"?

This one...ballooned. I tried to get it out last night, but fell asleep during the endeavor. This is an attempt to explain/rationalize/make sense of some of the behaviors we see during TTYD, especially as it concerns Mario and Luigi. I'll say right now, neither brother is his best at this point, and I have a bit of a hypothesis as to where each of them may have been, emotionally, during this game. I think TTYD is a turning point for Mario, while Luigi's emotional lynchpin comes, to no surprise, after the events of SPM. Anyway, I'm not going to try and edit this any more than the perfunctory attempt I made. Here you go. A Mario-centric drabble that is most definitely not a drabble.

~~~~~~~~~

My dear Mario,

I have finally learned what the legendary treasure is. It is the spirit of a demon! The X-Nauts plan to revive this thousand-year-old monster and use its power to take over the world! They’re collecting the Crystal Stars so they can open the Thousand-Year-Door..they’ll find this demon’s spirit..but the only thing that can keep it locked away is the Crystal Stars themselves! You must not let them get the Crystal Stars! Please, Mario...you must put a stop to their horrible plans!

-Princess Peach-

Mario rubbed at his eyes, scraping away a week’s work of fatigue. 

Shit.

When Peach had first told him the X-Nauts (and what a stupid name that was) were planning on taking over the world, he had laughed it off. Ever since he had landed in the Mushroom Kingdom, every fifth jabroni from the castle to the Darklands had been some kind of aspiring universal tyrant, babbling on and on about taking over realms, how their new regime would be the mightiest, how they should fear me or fear my army or fear my power, all accompanied by cackling laughter suitable for Saturday morning cartoon. The threats were white noise to him now, another meaningless boast in the endless series of hopped-up, dent-headed, peas-for-brains bad guys who popped out of the brickwork like potholes on the Cross Bronx.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t been taking this whole adventure seriously before this. After all, the last time he got sent on a quest to find stars, he ended up facing off against an army of sentient weaponry bent on…well, yeah. World domination.. But those guys had actually meant business, less wanting to rule the world than reforge it, in the most literal sense, in their image. Hell, Geno wouldn’t have been sent down all the way down from Star Heaven or whatever it had been unless Smithy and his crew were the real thing.

But now Peach was kidnapped and demons were involved. And they needed the Crystal Stars to trap the demon, but those same stars would also release the demon in the first place. Mario pulled his cap close to his eyes, sagging against the public notice board in Rogueport Square, the rotten wood protesting under his added weight. Across the plaza, the gallows swayed in tandem with an oncoming breeze, the smell of spoiled fish and brine wafting over and mixing with the lingering odor of cheap booze and sweat that was the hallmark of Rogueport’s business center. 

Delightful.

Vivian had remarked, once they resurfaced from that whole mess in Twilight Town, that the port city had a certain grimy charm to it. Mario huffed, kicking away a crumpled can of Banditbar Ale. Yeah, this place had charm, all right. All the charm of a Staten Island landfill. 

“Why yes, Vivian, I spent close to twenty years as the premiere actress with the Mushroom Repertory Theater, although back when we first started, it was known only as “The Toad Troupe.” Flurrie laughed in her distinctive trill, her voice resonating from what Mario placed as the archway leading to the west side of Rogueport. “A silly name, but our founder was devoid of that creative spark that captures the imagination and whisks the audience away on a journey with you. Of course, he was a rather talented fundraiser.”

Mario grunted, sliding around to the backside of the noticeboard, which was covered in layers of colorful graffiti and three decades worth of dirt. One bright, recent message spelled out a rather graphic enthusiasm for certain body parts, ones Mario wasn’t even certain Goombas had. Not that he was about to ask. Half the population here would shank him for even thinking of the question. Goombella would drop a book on his head.

He slumped at the thought of the petite, boisterous grad student. Goombella, Flurrie, Koops - even Yoshnar. Not one of them had questioned it, had shown any suspicion that the Mario they were celebrating with, were feasting with in Twilight Town was not, in fact, their supposed friend. Sure, they commented here and there that Mario was acting a little strange, was a bit more bombastic than normal, but no one stood up and announced, that’s not our guy!

Granted, he had only known these people for a week. Not nearly enough time to get the measure of a person in the real world, but that had never hindered his traveling companions before. Geno and Mallow seemed to think the world of him.

Mario curled his fist. He should have interrogated Doopliss when he had the chance, should have pulled the truth right out from under his smug-faced bedsheets. Was it a mimicry of only the body, or did Doopliss’s magic also copy the whole of a man, as well?

And why did his friends believe that egotistical, grandstanding fraud had been him?

“Where is Mario?” Flurrie asked, her voice closer now than it had been a minute ago. She had a habit of elongating her vowels to the point of absurdity, so Mario became Mahrio, emphasis on the ah. He had given up trying to correct her after the first hour of their acquaintance. Some things weren’t worth the fight.

Mario snuck a careful look around the edge of the noticeboard, biting his lip as a mess of dirty splinters poked through his skin. His traveling companions were gathered near the entrance to the Toad Bros Bazaar, Koops worrying at his hands as he fretted about Mario being kidnapped, or worse, continuing to Keelhaul Key without them. 

“Don’t worry, Koops,” Vivian soothed. “I’m sure he’s just gathering information or reading an electronic message from Peach.”

Goombella looked up from her notebook with a small frown. “I hope it’s not important intel. I need to write that data down so I can report back to Professor Frankly.”

“I can’t go back to Petalburg without…” The voices faded out of earshot, the door to the shop closing with a brash jingle. 

Mario unclenched his teeth, letting out an unsteady breath. He���d have to come back with them at some point. Maybe Doopliss saw something in him he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge, but Mario knew he’d be in way over his head if tried to take on the X-Nauts and this demon alone. Do like you always do, Mario. Suck it up, put on a smile, and say as little as possible. It had gotten him this far, whatever that counted for. Now, as for this Flavio -

“Hey, bro!” 

A hand clapped itself on his shoulder. Enemy, his mind blared, Mario grabbing at the interloper’s wrist, spinning the man around until he slammed into the announcement board with a pained “Oof!” Not one to let an advantage go to waste, Mario lunged forward, pushing his forearm into the man’s chest, close enough to his attacker’s trachea to leave no question as to the unspoken threat.

“Mario, what the hell?” A familiar voice squeaked. 

Anxiety spiked in Mario’s gut. Luigi? What in the world was his brother doing in -

Mario closed his eyes, letting out a soft hiss between his teeth as the realization hit. Damnit. The Waffle Kingdom. Princess Cannoli or whatever her name was. Mario released his hold on his brother, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a step back. I don’t have time for this. Luigi shouldn’t have been in Rogueport at all, somehow making his way to the crime-infested city in the days after Mario had received the letter from Peach asking him to come investigate a treasure map.  

And look where that got her. Kidnapped by aliens with crappy names. He knew Luigi could handle himself, or at least, he could in Brooklyn. Coming to the Mushroom Kingdom had done a number on his brother’s confidence, however, and whatever predilection for gangly awkwardness Luigi had had before had grown since they vanished from New York. 

He didn’t have time to protect his brother and save Peach and save the world from a demon. 

“Bro?” Luigi reached a tentative hand towards Mario’s shoulder. 

It didn’t add up, this whole Waffle Kingdom business. Not that he didn’t believe in Luigi, but nothing over the past year had convinced him his brother was ready to set out on his own, the whole incident with the Boos aside. Now he was on a quest which, on the surface, sounded far too close to Mario’s own exploits in trying to gather the seven crystal stars. He knew his brother could be insecure, but this was really…

Mario’s eyes went wide as he slapped away his brother’s hand, planting his feet into a defensive stance, fists raised. 

It was Doopliss. It had to be. Had the identity-pilfering ghost been following him from the beginning? Or were those Shadow Sirens working for him, feeding him enough tidbits about Luigi to make a convincing copy? That would account for his brother’s strange tales, the majority he didn’t have the stamina to focus through, there being too much on his mind with all the plans and kidnappings and cursed chests.

“I beat you before, you son of a bitch, and I’ll do it again,” Mario growled, pushing his sleeves up his arms. “Give him back.” He needed to get this over with now, get his brother in his own body as soon as possible so Mario could track down the last stars. Damnit, why did Luigi have to wander off like this?

“Woah!” Luigi held both his palms up at shoulder height, scrambling backwards, knocking over a trio of half-filled bottles with a bright clang as he came up against the graffiti-covered noticeboard. A pungent yellow stream seeped from one of the fallen bottles, trickling into the eroded mortar between uneven cobblestones. 

“No one’s going to hurt you, Mario. There’s - “ Luigi grabbed a tuft of hair peeking out from under his cap. “There’s no one here but me. Well, me and Torque. And the rest of Rogueport.” Luigi gave an awkward laugh. “And, you know, Torque’s not here here, he’s inside the bar. But you get what I mean.” He gave his brother an uncertain smile, holding two thumbs-up in front of his chest. 

“Where have you been? What were you doing before this?” Mario demanded, voice rising.

The miserable droop in his brother’s shoulders was unmistakable. “I…told you already? The volcano, the sacrifice? Blooey and Jerry and the bridal dress? I mean, I know it’s not as important as what you’re doing…” Luigi trailed off, finding sudden interest in the variety of grisly stains tattooed on the ground, tracing a disturbingly crimson outline with his foot.

Mario grit his teeth. That was something Luigi would say, right down to the shaky little inflections. Was his brother always this insecure? Had he been ignoring something deeper going on with Luigi for the past year? Something unpleasant curdled in Mario’s gut. He hadn’t wanted to face the fact that Doopliss mirrored his identity, warts and all. Was this the Luigi his brother saw in his reflection every day? Did Luigi even know how sad this looked?

Maybe it was Doopliss. Then again, from what little he remembered from his brother’s stories about his supposed Waffle Kingdom exploits, his own traveling companions were less than impressed with Luigi’s tactics, which seemed to be the literal definition of stumbling into good luck. 

As much as he hated to think it, Doopliss probably had better things to do than wreak havoc on a quest that may or may not have its basis in reality. It was true Luigi had made an astonishing number of enemies in a short period, but Princess Eclair seemed like something straight out of one of those adventure books they had liked so much as kids. He wasn’t thrilled at the idea of his brother hanging around Rogueport, but as long as all this Waffle Kingdom stuff was harmless - well, it would at least keep Luigi out of the underlevels and far, far away from the Thousand Year Door and whatever evil lay behind it.

The communication square in his back pocket vibrated. It was probably Goombella demanding to know where the hell he was. Mario brought his arms to his side, stretching out his fingers. He needed to focus. Whatever happened with Doopliss was in the past and he could waste away his time navel-gazing once this entire ordeal was over. 

Letting out a shuddering breath, Mario stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Luigi’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Luigi. It’s - “ Mario pursed his lips, weighing his words. “A lot has happened in the last few days.”

Luigi let out a watery chuckle, running his sleeve under his nose. “Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, gaze still fixed to the ground. 

Great, like your brother needed another kick to the ego. Way to go, asshole. Mario dug his fingers into Luigi’s shoulder. Maybe Doopliss’s replication of him hadn’t been that far off the mark, after all. 

“Hey, Lou,” he gave his brother a gentle shake. “Why don’t you introduce me to your new friend? Squort or Morque, was it?”

“Torque,” his brother mumbled.

“Torque! Great! Let’s go meet him!” Mario said too brightly, taking his brother by the arm, all but dragging him towards Podley’s bar. 

“Come on, Mario, you don’t have to - “ Luigi huffed, trying to pull himself out of his brother’s octopus-like grip. “I know you don’t want to - “

Mario shoved the door to the bar open, wrangling Luigi inside, depositing his brother next to a Spike Top with a wrench on his head. The little creature made a series of rapid clicks with its mouth, somehow conveying annoyance without uttering a single intelligible word or facial expression. The Spike Top glowered at his brother, if the dead, beady-eyed stare could be called that, before turning around with an exaggerated shuffle.

Six to one, that’s Torque, Mario mused, feeling a momentary pang of sympathy for his brother. Oh Luigi, we have to talk about this one of these days. But that was for later. After the crystal stars, after Peach was safe, after the world was saved. Right now, he needed a minute to collect himself, to form a plan to find Flavio and get to Keelhaul Key, and an excuse to give his companions for his sudden absence.

“Hey Lou, is that your friend?” Mario gestured at the little Spike Top. He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “How about you tell me that story?”

Luigi eyed Torque warily, the Spike Top making a slight turn so its face was again visible. Luigi gave a sheepish wave in his direction, Torque responding with a loud click of its jaw and a series of buzzes that reminded Mario of a horde of angry cicadas. 

“Heh, he’s excited to hear it again, too,” Mario pressed on, willing himself to be oblivious to the mounting tension between the odd pair. 

“Well,” Luigi rubbed at the back of his neck, avoiding looking anywhere near Torque. “If you’re sure…”

“Surer than sure!” Mario exclaimed with fake enthusiasm, throwing his hands up like he was tossing two baseballs into the air. 

His brother gave a small smile, slipping his thumbs behind the straps of his overalls as he uncurled his defensive hunch, voice dropping into a more comfortable storytelling baritone. “Okay, then. It all started like this. Just as our boat arrived on Circuit Island…”

Mario let his brother’s tale wash over him, making appropriate sounds of acknowledgement when necessary. He knew this lapse would come back to bite him in the ass later, but he’d rather have a world he could fight with his brother in than no world at all. He took in a long breath through his nose, holding it at the top for five seconds before releasing it in the opposite manner, careful to not make it sound as if he were sighing in annoyance at his brother’s narrative.

Finding Flavio was his first task. And messaging Goombella, although he was tempted to put the inevitable tongue-lashing off for another few minutes. Flavio first, he decided. The name was familiar, and sworn he had heard it bandied about when he first arrived in Rogueport, barreling through every shop and back-alley headquarters he could find in a blind panic. He knew he needed to find someone who worked on a ship, some sea-faring type, although in this town, that could be anybody from a pirate to a fortune teller to a criminal on the lam. 

It wasn’t like he could just walk around asking if anyone had seen a man with a peg-leg and eyepatch. For as quirky as the Mushroom Kingdom could be, it rarely conformed to his Earth-bound stereotypes. 

“The Skuuuuul Captaaaaaaaaain!” a boisterous voice warbled from a corner table. Mario made a perfunctory nod at his brother - yes, I’m listening - scanning each of the bar patrons until he landed on a short, well-dressed man teetering on the back two legs of his chair. 

“Festiiiivaaaaal!” he bellowed in discordant tones, hugging a bright red gemstone in the shape of a skull with one atm, raising a half-full mug of Chuckola with the other.

Then again, maybe he didn’t need to go around asking about pirates, seeing as one landed in his proverbial lap. The knots in Mario’s stomach unraveled, each freed line replaced by a bit of fluttering optimism he hadn’t felt since his victories in the Glitzville Pit. 

Doopliss was out of the picture. His companions were back and his brother, if not exactly happy, was at least distracted and, more importantly, safe. The man with the fluffy white cravat and maroon jacket caressed the cheekbones of the skull gemstone, singing another loud nonsense verse into its ear. 

Mario let himself smile. He was going to come out on top of this, hell and high water.

[jack-kellys]

For the bad things happen bingo: Jack + bridal carry?

oh well hey there stranger. it was very much my instinct to have jack be carried but im actually so strong and didn't (quite) cave. also i made this a treat for u

available bingo squares here, ao3 series here! there r also some details in my ao3 tags/notes that make a few things about jack more objective.

Jack doesn’t like his new job, but he’s used to being good at things–adapting to things, maybe–that he doesn’t quite enjoy. 

Selling papers hadn’t been his life’s goal or anything, but he needed people to look out for him and a roof so he got damn good at it all. Same goes for these ridiculous cartoons for Pulitzer: Jack keeps his head down, his trap shut, and his pencil busy. By now he’s learned that making a bunch of very similar drafts is the way to go, so the old men upstairs can mull and hum and mutter about which reads the best when they all read the damn same. 

What is great about this newer gig is Katherine. Without it he’s not sure he’d see nearly as much of her as he’d like, and there’s so many doors to nothing and cramped little hiding places for them to giggle and tease and kiss in when they take a break from work. And since Jack isn’t technically granted any breaks, all Katherine needs to do is talk down to his boss with a cold glare and the whole matter is solved. And more importantly, they can go back to locking lips. The best days are when Davey comes by before the evening edition comes out after school, and the three of them share a cigarette. Katherine’s started to look at Davey the way Jack knows he has been for a while now, and he’s not sure what it means, but it makes butterflies reawaken in his stomach again. 

What’s not great about the gig is observing Katherine’s work life. 

Since the strike, she’s not needing to type up just one article anymore- by now it’s three, and when the Sun’s offices close for the day she ventures over to the World because she has a key and uses the typewriters there. Her father never stops her. And Jack sees her, because, you know, his rules for himself could also be stricter, but he’s used to that schedule. Up at dawn and asleep after he collapses has been his life, never hers. Jack watches her try to adjust- she’s always shooting him an upbeat smile, usually excited to be writing–and writing and writing and writing–when it’s something that interests her, but Jack doesn’t think he’ll get used to seeing circles under her amber eyes anytime soon. 

It’s November now, late in it, the time of year where there’s already a dent in supplies at the lodge that makes Jack sweat since it’s harder to steal in the winter. Jack’s at his drawing desk early this morning, wanting to have some time between when he gets out and the evening edition to try and hit up a few shops for medicines they’re running low on. Blink’s got a nasty cough right now, and the boy’s trying to puff out his chest about it, but Jack knows the truth. 

He heads up the stairs for a quick smoke break after a few hours, and catches Katherine coming in the front door from the cold in a hurry.

“Hey,” he says, greeting her just inside the main door. “You’re here early, what’s the deal at the-”

Jack observes her, and Katherine must read his mind. She sighs, shaking her head. 

“Jack, I’m okay. Rough morning,” she excuses. There’s no way a rough morning can excuse the redness surrounding her nose, the bags underneath her eyes so obvious they nearly look purple, which pops against how pale her skin looks. “And it’s cold out, too, so-”

“You catch Blink’s cold?” he asks. A middle ground, since whatever is going on with her looks worse than a cough. 

“Maybe,” Katherine agrees, which means she’s got to be feeling worse than a cold. “I’ll take it easier today if it makes you feel better.”

“It’ll make you feel better.”

Jack glances down, feeling her fingers against his own. Katherine threads her hand into his, before lifting up, dawn-pink lips pressing a small, cold kiss to his dark knuckles. 

“Go draw, Mr. Kelly,” she says to him, taking her hand away. “I’ll see you at three.”

Three is too long, and Jack can feel the time ticking by in the back of his mind, each hour making his palms itch worse. It’s not easy for him to get up and away–and especially into other parts of the huge building–without Katherine, so if she doesn’t make sure to come down and visit him he can’t really go up and see her. 

He practically rockets into motion the moment the clock strikes three, shuffling his drafts into his portfolio and shoving it into his desk, tugging his coat on, hiking his bag over his shoulder, then stands-

-up too fast. He wobbles, gripping the back of his chair and blinking his sudden spinning vision straight. Jack takes a breath, and finally exits the room, glaring at his boots. He hates whenever Mush’s hypothesis is proven a little right- Jack’s got something weird with his blood, wrong with the iron in his body. It gets him jumpy in the winter, gets him worried about everyone and the cold. 

Glancing around the hall, he sneaks up the stairs to where Katherine prefers to work- Bryan Denton’s office, who’s been out on assignments after shifting from the Sun for two months now and taught Kath a lot of what she knows. Jack knocks, before pushing open the door. 

“Oh, Kathy,” he sighs, smiling slightly. Her head’s tucked on the typewriter’s keys as if it were a pillow, arms rested under her chin as her chest rises and falls evenly. Jack’s sort of glad she fell asleep- doing all this work for hours on end in her condition hadn’t been Katherine’s best idea. 

Jack crosses over to her, drawing a hand through her hair. He pauses.

The ends of her wavy fringe his sweaty, he notices. Jack swipes his hand over her forehead.

Hot- burning hot. And her hands are cold when one of his own closes around them.

“Kath. Katherine,” Jack says, and says again. He shakes her shoulder gently. “Katherine, come on. Wake up, sweetheart.”

Slowly, her eyes flutter open with a small moan. Katherine’s eyebrows scrunch, confused- probably wondering why the first thing she’s seeing is an ‘f’ key. 

“Did I…? Jack?” she mumbles, lifting her head. Her face turns to his, and she pouts, blinking sluggishly. “Oh, I didn’t go down to you, did I. I’m sorry.” 

“That’s alright,” he reassures, two hands on her shoulders now. “Day’s over, yeah? Lemme get you- I’m gonna take you to the lodge for now. So you can rest some more.” 

She shakes her head, expression pinched.

“Not necessary,” she insists, carefully standing up. “Everyone falls asleep at their desk, right? Right. One time- one…”

She sways suddenly, but catches herself just as Jack’s muscles go taut. 

“One time.. thing,” she manages. She takes a step, and her dull eyes flutter, and Jack’s taut muscles send him surging forward as she falls sideways, only six inches or so from the side of her head slamming into the wall. Jack catches her, thank god, her form crashing heavily into his outreached arms. He hefts her up shakily, her temple finding his shoulder to rest on while his arms curl around her back and under her knees. 

“Kath?” he tries. “Katherine. Katherine.” 

She doesn’t wake, expression lax save for the strained twitch of her brow. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, because he’s alone, with his unconscious partner, in an office that isn’t his and in a building that doesn’t like letting him inside. And Kath’s not waking up. Jack’s heart starts to pound louder, it feels like- sounds like.

Stairs. Stairs. He needs the stairs. 

Jack rushes to them, doing his best not to jostle Kath as he starts downward. He needs to mind his footsteps- Katherine is practically his height, and her dress could easily cause both of them to go sprawling. 

He makes it down, trying not to breathe too hard, and shoves with his back out the front door.

“Jack? -Kath?”

Jack’s head swings to the right, and Davey’s there. 

“What happened?” the boy rushes out, striding over to Jack. “I was waiting for you two, they wouldn’t let me- is she alright? What-”

Jack lets Davey touch her forehead, watches him recoil and his eyebrows shoot up, before he traces her cheek gently.

“She’s sick. Came in and worked a whole day anyway,” Jack mutters. The November breeze makes Katherine shiver suddenly, but she still doesn’t wake, only looks more pained. Jack bites his lip.

“Hold her for a moment?” he asks Davey.

“What?” Davey splutters, eyes going huge. “Jack I can’t- I dunno if-”

Jack sets her in the taller boy’s arms anyway, and quickly sheds his coat. “Knew you were strong enough, Dee.”

“Whatever,” Davey mutters, narrowing his eyes at Jack, who sets his coat over Katherine. “Jack, you need that.”

“I ain’t sick,” he says, and carefully takes her back into his grasp.

“You’ll get sick. Or, you’ll-”

Jack starts walking. He’s fine. His nose is already chilled to the bone, but he’ll manage. He hears Davey quickly keep up, and they walk in strained silence for a while.

“You know, it’s my textbook on anatomy I had Mush borrow,” Davey murmurs. “And I read a good amount of it.”

“Good for you,” Jack mutters, though his body tenses up more than it already is as another gust of wind blows through. 

“It ain’t good for you to be out and cold like this,” Davey continues, and Jack keeps his gaze pointedly forward. “You’re already losing color and it’s only been ten minutes-”

“Dave,” Jack interjects, gazing down at Katherine. His coat’s helped, maybe, but she still shivers and burns and shakes in his arms and he wishes he could somehow grip her even closer. “I’m worried about her, alright? Lemme- just lemme hold her.”

Davey goes quiet for a moment. Before too long, Jack feels the boy’s arm come around his waist, rubbing his back, warming him.

“Okay,” Davey says softly. “Okay, Jack.”

They make it to the lodge, and the front door of it is all Jack can focus on. He lets Davey open it, and he heads in with her, going up the stairs, away from the colder first floor. He sets her in Racer’s lower bunk, since that’s always a safe bet. Pulls the covers up. 

Now what. 

There’re other things he should do, he knows that, but his brain can’t seem to connect the dots, the red string of his thought process being held limply with no direction. 

The hand on his back returns, and his name’s being said.

“-ck, you should get some rest too,” Davey’s saying. “You listening?”

“Always,” is Jack’s smart reply. “Yeah, I- well, I gotta run down to Mush first if he’s around, let ‘im know what’s going on.”

“Well, I can do that,” Davey brushes off. Then, he takes Jack’s hands, finding his wrists and cupping his palms around them. “You need to warm up, and rest, Jack, you just carried Katherine for a mile.”

“Yeah but I-” Jack shakes his head slightly. His shoulders hike as he fights a sudden shiver, slipping out of Davey’s hands as the red string finally lands around a thought. “I gotta grab some extra blankets, too.” 

“Jack-”

He stands up, gripping the bottom of the top bunk to steady himself, blinking a few times. Fine. He’s fine. He’s going- he was going to get… something. 

The red string suddenly slips away, and his head aches, his chest clenches, and he’s really, really cold. His vision flits between darkness and wood bunks as his eyelids flutter. Stronger arms than he thought he knew slip under his own right as he feels he’s about to sink, though, and his face lands against a warm chest. He yawns, lightheaded, brain feeling separate from the rest of his body.

“Breathe,” Davey’s saying, urgently. “Jack. Jackie, can you hear me? Just breathe, in slowly, out slowly.” 

Jack’s trying to focus, but he’s not totally sure why he can’t, and his knees want to buckle. Davey’s strong, holding him up like this. Jack doesn’t feel like he’s holding anything. 

He feels his eyes close, which makes the breathing easier but the focusing harder. Davey’s holding him close, safe. He’s tracing the side of Jack’s head soothingly with a finger in the space between his braids, and Jack lets himself yawn again, though this time his brain feels less like it’s suffocating than it did a minute ago. 

“You gonna let me find Mush?” Davey says softly, but Jack can picture the ‘I was right’ smirk that’s probably residing on the boy’s pink lips. Jack simply nods into his chest. He lets Davey sit him on the bunk, still leaned into the other until he feels Davey shift him- trying to lay him down. Jack thinks he falls asleep before the boy even can- he remembers Davey’s chest as his resting spot, not the pillow beside Katherine. 

He wakes groggily a couple hours later, his suspenders and dress shirt missing. His shoes are off, too, and there’s wavy, auburn hair tickling his nose and someone’s back he’s tucked into. Just barely, he raises his head, opening his eyes just enough. 

Katherine’s awake, thank god, attire loosened. Jack’s arm is rested over her hip, but she’s petting someone’s hair, looking down at someone the way she looks at Jack. His head raises higher.

Davey’s fast asleep sitting half on the floor, face pillowed by his arm on the bunk mattress and hair being delicately combed through by Katherine’s fingers. Suddenly she pauses, and glances behind her. Jack meets her gaze, and she looks exhausted, but she gives him a tired smile. Jack tries to return it despite the fog going through his brain. 

“Go back to sleep, Jackie,” she whispers, so gently it nearly convinces his eyes to shut then and there. “You’re off duty, alright?” 

“How long’s he been asleep?” he asks her anyway. He leans over her a little, arm slipping away from her waist to find Davey’s cheek to caress. 

“Maybe an hour,” she provides. “Adorable, hm?”

Jack hums his agreement, but feels his head bob downward, despite his desire to ask Katherine how she feels. Jack wraps himself closer around her middle, nuzzling his face between her shoulder blades. The hand that isn’t resting against Davey’s cheek finds Jack’s hand over her stomach, their fingers threading together. All three connected, like one snaking string. He smiles to himself. 

“Sleep, Jack,” Kath says again over her shoulder. He listens. 

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Hi so I’m an incoming freshman I have autism and ADHD I was wondering do you have any tips for high school specifically for people with autism and ADHD like me? Thank you for your time!!

Hi there,

It’s been out of school since 2015, so I’m rusty with tips. However I did find one article listing 12 tips that might help:

1. You don’t need ONE study space.

A well-stocked desk in a quiet place at home is key, but sometimes you need variety. Coffee shops, libraries, parks, or even just moving to the kitchen table will give you a change of scenery which can prompt your brain to retain information better.

2. Track more than HW in your school planner.

Keeping a calendar helps you plan ahead—but you’ve got more going on than just homework assignments! Make sure you’re marking your extracurricular, work, and social commitments, too. (Tests, band practice, away games, SAT dates, half-days and holidays are just a few examples of reminders for your planner.)

3. Start small.

If you’ve got a big assignment looming, like a research paper, stay motivated by completing a piece of the project every few days. Write one paragraph each night. Or, do 5 algebra problems from your problem set at a time, and then take a break.

4. School supplies (alone) don’t make you organized.

Come up with a system and keep to it. Do you keep one big binder for all your classes with color-coded tabs? Or do you prefer to keep separate notebooks and a folder for handouts? Keep the system simple—if it’s too fancy or complicated, you are less likely to keep it up everyday.

5. Get into a routine.

When will you make the time to do your homework every day? Find the time of day that works best for you (this can change day-to-day, depending on your schedule!), and make a plan to hit the books.

6. Learn how to create a distraction-free zone.

A study on workplace distractions found that it takes workers an average of 25 minutes to return to what they were working on pre-interruption. Try turning off your phone notifications or blocking Twitter (temporarily) on your computer so you can concentrate on the homework tasks at hand.

7. Get real.

When you’re looking at the homework you have to get done tonight, be realistic about how long things actually take. Gauging that reading a history chapter will take an hour and writing a response will take another 30 minutes will help you plan how you spend your time.

8. Use class time wisely.

Is your teacher finished lecturing, but you still have 10 minutes of class left? Get a jump on your chemistry homework while it’s still fresh in your mind. Or use the time to ask your teacher about concepts that were fuzzy the first time.

9. Look over your notes each night to make sure you've got it.

Fill in details, edit the parts that don’t make sense, and star or highlight the bits of information that you know are most important. Interacting with your notes will help you remember them. You can also use Homework Help to get your questions answered 24/7.

10. Study a little every day.

Cramming Spanish vocabulary for a quiz might work in the short-term, but when comes time to study for midterms, you’ll be back at square 1. You might remember the vocab list long enough to ace the quiz, but reviewing the terms later will help you store them for the long haul.

11. Don’t let a bad grade keep you down.

A rough start to the semester doesn’t have to sink your GPA. Take proactive steps by checking your grades regularly online and getting a tutor if you need one.

12. Make a friend in every class.

Find a few people you can contact from each of your classes if you have a homework question or had to miss class (and do the same for them!).  Then when it comes time to study for exams, you'll already have a study group.

The article will be below:

I hope this helps. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

[twistedastrology]

hi. yap to me. about your chart. and tell me what you think about other placements PLEASE!!

god bless u omg ok lemme break it down 4 u

why im built like that: a yapping session abt my own chart

ok so firts things first we gotta go thru my absolute pride and joy- this is the placement that when i discovered it in my baby astrologer era i was like Omg thats so cool what-

we got mars and saturn in my 1st house ur honor (unless in whole sign houses in which case saturn is in my 2nd 💔)

i always loved saturn as a planet before i got into astrology n then i came 2 love it even more and this bad boy in my 1st house is why i am so petrified of losing who i am!!!! and my mars i think just makes me very energetic and driven tbh amongst many other things

ofc these 2 are largely responsible for a lot in my chart but that's the basics of what they do-

SECOND THING'S SEOCNDN-

my other pride and joy, my mercury in gemini 💞💞💞💞

i love mercury SO much and despite it largely being the reason for my adhd, it absolutely dominates my chart (along with my outer planets) and is so powerful that it colors my sun more gemini than taurus (especially since i literally dont have any other earth placement except for my lilith in virgo- im all water/fire/air 🙏🙏)

in whole sign houses it would be also be in my 12th house which makes so much sense for me bc i will psychoanalyze Everyone to an ungodly degree because i love learning how people fundamentally work and how things influence them- this and my jupiter in scorpio + moon/neptune in my 8th house is the reason for my love of psychology-

THIRD THISNGS THIRD-

my outer planets 🥰🥰🥰🥰

i was born in the pre shadow period of uranus retrograde btw so while i strongly feel the effects of it being in pisces, i also feel the effects of if it was in my 8th house-

uranus and neptune are both direct in my chart and they're also in mutual reception so they have a LOOOOOT of power in my chart especially if u read my neptune post where i said neptune actually rules cancer (and the moon rules pisces) bc then neptune is given more power via my cancer rising-

my pluto is actually In retrograde so i often have to read pluto in 5th house stuff bc i feel it way more than pluto in 6th house stuff- and like i said in my jupiter post that got fucking obliterated by god for some reason, my pluto is actually conjunct Sagittarius A* (the galaxy's black hole) with only a difference of 51 minutes, and it's in mutual reception with my jupiter in scorpio so there's a lOT going on there 💔💔💔

that pluto tho and probably jupiter too tbh is why whenever im doing something creative whether it be editing or writing or one of the other 5 billion things i do, i usually feel like i turn into some sort of conduit for something WAY bigger than myself and all my cancer energy amplifies it and makes whatever i do also have a very cathartic property to it!!!

4TH THSINSGS FORUTH

since ive been super into astrology ive also looked at my mom's chart like 1 billion times and mine too and what i find fascinating is that she's a capricorn rising and i have saturn in my 1st house, and she has mars in cancer and venus in aries just like i do, but her mars is conjunct her descendant line just like mine is conjunct my ascendant line-

she's also saturn ruled as hell but she's an aries sun/mercury and u would THINK we would hate each other but no we literally have an unbreakable bond- i know the usual idea of like a capricorn mom vs a cancer child is Not Great but her and i make me wonder otherwise 😭😭😭

5YH THINGS FIFTH-

i have some extremely slay aspects ur honor- I like 2 think anyway-

my fav aspects i have are:

- mercury sextile saturn

- uranus trine ascendant

- sun conjunct mercury

and despite it being a hard aspect and a hard 10° orbit aspect,

- sun square neptune

even tho it's within 10° i still feel a Looot of influence from that one- i am a little delusional sometimes but my saturn in 1st does a good job of maintaining it and bringing me down to earth, but in my astrologer's handbook (my fav book 💔💔) it says, and i quote, "a well developed mercury and saturn will do much to offset the negative effects of this square" and i have both of those ur honor God bless holy shit id be off my FUCK without those 2 planets-

but then it continues and says "very often peculiar emotional desires and romantic tendencies are indicated, which can range from platonic love to the most morbid and debased physical type of sensuality." which THAT part i feel immensely- Nobody should ever look in my brain please 4 the love of god for ur sake n mine dont do it thwnk u-

But that's also probably bc i got the pluto influence right bc my neptune is in my 8th house- which btw im p sure pluto is exalted in Aquarius but i can get into that in another post probably-

6TH THSINGS SSIXTH

my uranus trine ascendant also loves to make me weird as fuck- i am a very peculiar individual and my mercury in an aries degree of Gemini also makes me yap Constantly bro i am the yapatron 5000- that (and my chiron in aquarius 💔) is why i have like a whole 1 friend that genuinely appreciates my yapping- him and my mom (my mom and i yap together tho HAHAHA)

my chiron in aquarius tho hit fucking Hard when i was a wee lad and still kinda does but im workin on it ur honor- i just never felt accepted and never Was accepted in friend groups and stuff and it was only until i started going with my north node in aries that i started actually being able to socialize and stuff- bc i legitimately thought "fuck it im just gonna be weird as fuck and whoever likes me for it will like me for Me and not some dumb shit-"

basically weeding out the losers fr-

7TH THINGSS SEVENETH-

btw i hope everytime anyone has read the 1ST THINGS 1ST or whatever they read it in the tone of believer by imagine dragons like that one tiktok audio of like "1st thing's 1st!!!! 2nd thing's 3rd!!! First seocnd third thing's third???" ANAYYWAY-

if u read my cancers n rage post too ull know where im comin from w/this but my cancer rising + mars in cancer gives me this unfathomable rage that legitimately makes my blood feel like it's physically boiling, my heart starts pounding and i get SO shaky- that's only when im super pissed But with the mars energy i literally have to get it out via moshing 2 korn DUDE HAHAHHAHAAH OMG THAT REMINDS ME-

speaking of!!!! i was strugglin real bad like a couple weeks ago now right and i put my earbuds in and listened to chi and to this D A Y. i cannot listen to that song without getting that ungodly rage dude it's diabolical But i literally lost my shit so hard that day i think had i been standing and not doubled over on the floor for my own safety, i woulda broken my knee again (another story i have 🥰🥰)

i did howveer almost fuck up my nose by slamming my face into the floor a little But we're good!!!!! i get very physical 💔 i have so many injuries ive given myself bc of that insane amount of energy i have i could make a list dude it's devious-

God bless u jonathan davis 😭😭😭😭💞💞💞

genuinely tho i aint ever heard more honest 2 god screams that spoke to me THAT much like god DAMN

ANYWAY im silly my bad guys-

8TH THSING'S 8TH-

i tHIK that's it- i could probably go into more detail abt specific things but this is like an overview SO 🙏🙏🙏

thank u for readig my yapping sesison UHHHHMMMMMMMMMMM 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[lily-alphonse]

for the rarepairs:

hear me out, Haley x sandy, they just have so much potential omg.

also another ship that has been on my mind is robin x Haley, I don't even know why.

After getting this ask I edited my masterlist post to specify only one ship at once bc these posts would be way too long otherwise, so Im glad someone else asked for Haley x Sandy so I could answer both of these! Check that one out here for the first part of your question.

Haley x Robin

Making Haley a homewrecker smh lol

I'm wracking my brain rn trying to think of when they would literally ever even cross paths, Haley doesn't even go to the saloon. They have no reason to speak to each other. Haley doesn't hang out with Seb or Maru. She wouldn't need Robin to build anything.

Ok mind is taking me to Robin's friends. The aerobics class. And they gossip outside all the time in the square. Ok ok ok getting somewhere, I think.

Haley has another fight with Emily about not pulling her weight and how she has to grow up and do something with her life. In an effort to prove that she can be mature she joins Caroline, Robin, and Jodi outside to chat thinking its gonna be boring as hell but it's NOT.

It starts out that way. Boring and awkward because the women aren't sure how to be around her at first. Jodi asks Haley if she's doing anything for work and that goes about as well as expected. But Robin asks about her photography and Haley lights up, talking about how she got a new lens that can take macro photos of flowers and insects and she's having a great time with it.

Things are less tense then, and the ladies end up gossiping, and it's actually kind of fun. Robin is the coolest of the bunch, Jodi talks the most but she's so judgemental (which can be fun in small doses but gets old) and Caroline is the quietest and most high-strung. They invite her to aerobics class and she gives a noncommital answer.

But she keeps joining them outside to chat, and it's nice. She doesn't always have much to say but Robin at least always engages her, and she finds herself gravitating towards her. When Caroline brings out teas for all of them, she feels really included and adult.

She joins them for aerobics and its the first time Haley starts to consider she might have a thing for Sebastian's mom. Not only is she fit as hell (those carpentry arms go crazy) but she's silly and fun and gets Haley dancing around without doing any particular moves and just vibing. Haley's got heart eyes for her by the end of it. Watching her leave, she decides to jog up next to her, asking if they can walk together since she could go for a walk in the fresh air to wrap up the workout. Robin obviously accepts and they finally have a moment to talk alone.

When Haley asks her where she learned to dance like that, Robin laughs. She got around in her day. It turns out, a young Robin was quite similar to Haley. And it's easy to believe. She's still gorgeous, and has this sort of effortless cool girl energy that has only gotten mellower with age.

Conversation flows as they talk about their exploits, and the walk ends too quickly. The lake near Robin's house is beautiful, and Haley suggests she might have to come take some pictures up here sometime. It's only a little stretch of the truth...

Haley continues to meet with the women of the town, actually beginning to feel more mature. She's inspired to start looking into college courses. The aerobics class is the highlight of her week, because she gets to let loose. Afterward she makes a habit of walking Robin home, sometimes even challenging her to a race, and Robin even feels a little younger for it.

Sometimes she comes across her when she is up on the mountain taking pictures, and Robin invites her in for lemonade.

On one occasion taking pictures of a nesting falcon by the lake, Robin storms outside, slamming the front door behind her and stomping into the woods. She doesn't see Haley at first, and crouches behind a tree with her head in her hands.

“Robin?” Haley approaches hesitantly, stowing her camera.

Robin starts with a sniffle, quickly wiping her face. “Oh! Haley! Hi, you surprised me.” She clears her throat.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh,” Robin shakes her head and waves her away, “Nothing, I’m being silly.” She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to just forget you saw this?”

“No, what’s wrong? You know you can talk to me.” Haley sits next to her in the grass, giving her an encouraging smile when she looks at her again.

“No, it’s… adult stuff. Nothing I should be telling you.”

Haley is a bit hurt at that. Robin has always treated her like an adult, encouraged her even, when she felt like she wasn’t mature enough to handle what life through at her. “Are you saying I’m not an adult now?”

But from Robin’s perspective, how are you supposed to explain you can’t vent about marriage trouble to a girl your son’s age. It wouldn’t be right. She sighs. “No, Haley, that’s not what I’m saying, I’m sorry. You’re right, and we talk about adult stuff all the time, this is just… this is personal.”

“We talk about personal stuff all the time, too,” Haley encourages.

Robin looks down at the grass for a beat, thinking. “Just… marital stuff. Marriage… shit. Arguing.” She growls and put her head down on her bent knees.

Haley scoffs. “Boys.”

It makes Robin laugh and lift her head again. “Except not, since, you know, adults.”

“Boys never mature,” Haley shot back snidely, to Robin’s amusement.

“I’ll give you that!” And then she’s quiet again, chin resting on her knees now to look out at the lake in reflection. “Don’t get married, Haley,” she murmurs. “And don’t get stuck here. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”

“And you don’t?” Haley asks right away, catching Robin off guard.

She lifts her head to look at Haley again. “Well… no, I don’t think so. I’m stuck.”

“Um, excuse me, who are you and what have you done with the badass woman I know? From where I’m standing I feel like you could do anything you wanted.”

“That’s really kind of you to say, Haley,” she responds with a sad smile.

“I’m not kind. I don’t say things to be kind, I say them because I mean them.”

Robin’s smile widens. She’s always liked Haley’s spunk. “I know. Thank you, anyway.”

“Why did you get married?”

She sighed again, her smile dropping. “Being a single mom is so hard. Don’t do that either, by the way. I actually… I would’ve been happier, I think, if Demetrius was alright being my boyfriend instead. I didn’t want to get married again, but image is so important in small towns, you know? And especially with young kids it just makes life easier.”

“You don’t have young kids anymore. And you don’t actually strike me as someone who gives a fuck about her image, no offense.”

Robin is quiet again for a while, mulling over her words. “You’re right.” She stands and Haley follows suit. “Sorry again you had to see this.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“Okay,” Robin huffs a chuckle. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.” Haley smiles, and Robin suddenly reaches out and hugs her tightly. She smells like sweat and pine and wood shavings and Haley wants to burn the feeling of her flannel into her skin.

Haley wraps her arms around her waist, her face in the crook of her neck, and squeezes her close, and suddenly the air has changed. It doesn’t feel like a platonic hug anymore. But neither of them are letting go and it’s gone on a second too long.

Haley clutches at the back of her flannel. Lifts her head to be level with Robin, cheek to cheek. She can hear Robin’s shallow breathing.

“Haley…” Robin says hesitantly. Almost a warning, if it wasn’t dripping with a breathless lust.

Haley pulls back, just enough to kiss her.

Nyaha chew on that lmao pls note I do not hate Demetrius/Robin in any way I think theyre good together but you see how the asks force my hand! I only do what the little anon faces ask so nicely for me to do

Send me any Stardew Valley rarepair and I will tell you how I would make them work! (Even non-marriage npcs) If youre lucky you may get a mini fic out of it. Check the list below to see if Ive already answered yours

Rarepair Masterlist

[luckbell-art]

Buddyfight Headcanons ‘Cause I can’t get this series out of my head

Balle du Soleil Edition (?)

Humans:

I have no headcanons for Gao sorry

Baku is secretly jealous of other men that get close to Kuguru due to him want that strong bond with her.

Kuguru has a secret sadistic side she keeps under lock and key. Only Baku knows the true extent of her nature.

Kuguru’s headlamps are a pain to put on the morning, taking more than 30 minutes just to put them on. Despite this, her hair is very well kept. Her and Zanya share their hair care tips because of it.

Whenever Kuguru sees Zanya pulling Akatsuki’s ear, she whips out the chancleta and beats the ever loving tar out of him.

Baku: Uhm, I think you got him, Kuguru.

Kuguru, holding a bloody sandal: You want what he’s having?

Baku: N-no…

Kuguru: That’s what I thought.

Zanya: *screams of pure terror*

Tetsuya is actually really smart. He could easily make straight A’s, but chooses to be lazy. Asmodai is both amazed and stumped by this.

Gao: Hey Zanya, do you know what the square root of this is?

Tetsuya, from across the room: It’s 24.

Gao and Zanya: …

Zanya: How are you still in tutoring?!

Tetsuya’s father left him and his mother when he was young. While he doesn’t mind as much anymore, he gets jealous when his friend talk about their fathers.

Zanya’s some form of gay, I don’t make the rules

Zanya’s also the resident babysitter I still don’t make the rules

Zanya used to be afraid of everyone as kid. Not just women, everyone. He later got diagnosed with social anxiety disorder. His current gynophobia is considered an improvement.

When nervous, Zanya either fidgets with his hair or with a ring Akatsuki bought him on his birthday. He keeps the ring on a necklace hidden in his coat.

Despite what he might say, Zanya appreciates when people understand his disorder and don’t try and push boundaries with him.

Akatsuki and Hanako are best friends. They love hanging out and switch up who’s house their going to after school often.

Akatsuki’s extremely gullible. If you tell him clouds are cotton candy, he’ll believe until proven otherwise.

Akatsuki’s the sugar addict in the family. There’s a reason the cookie car is hidden on top of the fridge.

Monsters:

Drum actually has mechanical knowledge and can fix any engine he finds. How else is supposed to maintain his drill?

The day found pre-made pudding is the day Drum was in heaven. It was also the day he learned just how many preservatives are in packaged food.

While he technically doesn’t need the money, Asmodai takes on multiple jobs just for the hell of it.

Despite appearing very chill, Asmodai’s constantly stressed worried about Tetsuya’s wellbeing, especially after the omni lord reveal.

Tsukikage knows JSL and uses it to talk smack about people since a very few people actually practice sign language in Japan.

Tsukikage loves to dote on Byakuya unprompted. It once got to the point where he had to be stopped from buying tickets to Coachella the moment they went on sale.

Part 2 maybe…?

[sillyname30]

Actors get their breaks on Broadway in different ways. Steven Huynh, who has spent the past few years working primarily in regional theater and doing workshops for upcoming musicals such as The Lost Boys and Crazy Rich Asians, got his big break when he became the standby for Darren Criss in the new musical Maybe Happy Ending, now at the Belasco Theatre.

Huynh spoke with TheaterMania about deciding to pursue acting during high school after being nominated for a Dazzle Award, how his first Broadway show affected him, and what it’s like working with Criss, whom he first met on the set of Glee.

The following conversation has been condensed and edited for clarity.

What was the deciding factor for you in pursuing acting?

I was planning to be a music teacher. I mostly played trumpet in high school, but one year I ended up playing Seymour in Little Shop of Horrors, and I was eventually recognized as one of five Best Actor nominees for the inaugural Dazzle Awards at [Cleveland’s] Playhouse Square, which is the regional version of the Jimmy Awards. While working on that awards show — it was so cool being with 100 other kids — I came to the realization that I could make acting into a career, even though I didn’t win the award. It also was a huge factor that my mom and dad told me I should be doing this. They are Vietnamese immigrants who own a nail salon, so their support has meant so much to me!

Was being on Broadway always your goal?

I would say Broadway has been my dream ever since 2016, when my high school class came to New York and saw Aladdin on Broadway. Seeing the representation onstage of people who looked like me was really inspiring. When my agent called to tell me that I had been chosen for Maybe Happy Ending, I immediately went to write down “At 4:18 on July 10, you found out you are making your Broadway debut.” And then I called my mom and dad to thank them. I still have a sense of disbelief that I’m here. But my biggest feeling is gratitude.

What is Maybe Happy Ending is about?

It is a musical that takes place in this future society that has created humanoid helper-bots whose main purpose is to serve others. But since they are always upgrading to the newest models, these two older robots, Oliver [played by Criss] and Claire [played by Helen J. Shen], are put into this retirement center where they meet and come to terms with mortality, being human, and falling in love. My hope is that, even though the musical deals with advanced AI, audiences will leave the theater with a renewed sense of wonder about the world around us today. I also hope they will sing or hum the score for days to come.

You are not only the standby for Darren Criss, but you’re also an understudy for Marcus Choi, who plays various roles in the show. That sound like a lot of work.

Yes, it is a lot that I have to learn all these parts. But I get to watch and observe this show from the ground up and I get to be part of the conversation, which is so exciting. I learn a lot of the roles simply from osmosis, being in the room every day. Still, when I am home, in Harlem, my script is completely hooked up and I am constantly reviewing lines and music on my commute on the subway.

Are you enjoying working with Darren?

I absolutely admire and adore Darren. It’s so incredible being in the rehearsal room with him — we actually didn’t meet until we got into the rehearsal room — because he takes such an intellectual, in-depth approach to creating his character. I remember watching him in Glee while growing up; I actually used his version of “Someone Only We Know” as my audition song. Luckily, he thought that was hilarious. Anyway, a lot of our camaraderie comes not only from our Asian American heritage, but from our shared love of food. A lot of what we talk about is our experience of eating at our favorite restaurants, and now we try to go out when we can and find the best ramen, pho, or Korean BBQ. It’s so fun!

[david-box]

handspinning is much much more fun when it goes easily than when it goes badly and I am having fun, so here's an update from last time where I was spinning in place. Long bit of text below the cut.

I'm on day 6(?) ish of my second ever spin. I've divided a "200 count" cotton ball bag into equal sections of 4 by weight (about 29g per section) so I can do two 2plys and I'm maybe 1/4 of the way through my current bag I *think*. I measured the staple length of this and it's about 1.5 cm, which is squarely in the "short staple" range. I can see why short staples are harder to spin now, lol.

I didn't start off with a plan on what to do with my yarn when I'm done except keep the first ply as a measure of how well I'm doing, but I ended up with a bit of cotton from a bottle of cold meds and used that instead. I know now it was horribly underspun and I have no fucking idea how I was holding my fiber to where it actually would draft. EDIT: forgot to say that I'm considering making my first 2ply a worsted spin since, like, it's cotton balls, lol, and my second one woolen/a puni.

After spinning in place a few days ago I had to go back to spinning 101 99 and find a video on spinning cotton balls with a pencil to figure out how drafting works and then things clicked. Also, spinning a length out with your fingers is pretty okay for starting a spindle off.

Whittled chopstick and polymer clay DIY spindle and whorl still works well both grasped and supported. I have mostly figured out drafting, although keeping a "triangle" in cotton is either beyond my skills are just not possible when you're fiber is 1.5 cm. Sometimes my twist goes into the fiber and I just have to pull and double draft it. Temporary cops are less visually satisfying than a long line of new thread but work a lot better. Inconsistency is still and issue but getting better, I think, and I can reconnect broken strands now relatively painlessly. Drafting going a lot easier and I've (I think?) learned that one butterfly thing to manage the cop. I built my cop too close the top but I can fix it.

I spent a few days wondering why I'm not picking this up faster until I realized I haven't actually spun that much lol.

Also - supported spinning works beautifully with a type of park and draft, I've found out I fucking HATE drafting with two hands (I think I'm doing long draw?) and I had five fleeting seconds where I was spinning supported AND drafting at the same time and have yet to reproduce it.

I had read that cotton balls would be hard because it's trash fiber and they're not wrong, but I am happy to be making progress anyway. So there's that! Someone on reddit said that if you spin for 15 minutes a day for a month you'll get past the beginner stage and tbh I am very ready for it. But, on the other hand, I had less of a start going for cotton - there's less materials on how to spin it that I could find very easily, and the articles that do exist are not always very detailed. I can see why in-hand/grasped spinning is a bast or wool fiber thing. But, shit, if I can spin something 1.5 cm long I can figure out anything and I'll eventually have yarn! AND I get to BOIL it! I get to boil thread! lol. i'm happy.

[mars-ipan]

let’s be honest it was only a matter of time before i babygirlified an old man

closeups and (many) design notes under the cut :)

ok design notes time (these r mainly for the narrator bc. well. stanley has an actual physical appearance):

- while thinking of how to design the narrator i got the idea that he took one of the models in the audience for the ending where stanley gives a speech and edited it to make his “human” form

- because of this i wanted to include a bunch of little things that he “got wrong” during the process of mimicking a human. most of them get ironed out when stanley points out how weird they are but some of them stay

- to name a couple, his teeth are all flat- no canines or molars. also his little headset + glasses have nothing that actually attach them to his head. they just Are There. not to mention his interesting fashion sense of tie + turtleneck + blazer (he defends this choice no matter how much stanley laughs at him). he’s just weird enough to be slightly uncanny- it’s an imitation, not the real thing

- since i’m indecisive as hell he’s a bit of a shapeshifter. he actually doesn’t use his physical model in-game a lot and tends to just show up in things. shadows, reflective surfaces, screens, etc. even more often than that he’s just his voice

- bc he plays the guitar in the out of bounds ending i am now convinced that he can play many instruments. that little piano in the memory zone before the first review? yeah he’s there playing that in-game he’s just not visible to you

- designing his hair was SO DIFFICULT i literally went searching thru the tag for inspo and i liked so many different things. after a struggle (you can see a slicked-back attempt in the shadow idea doodle) i eventually decided on the style shown in his main drawing. every time i draw it i fight so hard to make it distinct from miles edgeworth. to make this easier the cowlicks aren’t too pronounced and the larger bang is more of a fringe. it still sometimes looks like miles edgeworth whoops

- some of my favorite fanon design things are the Line™ tie the square glasses and the little gay ass highlight so i knew i had to include them. those were my only definite choices going into this

- once again bc i’m indecisive the narrator can scale his model up or down as he pleases. he prefers to be bigger than stanley but stanley complains that it “makes his proportions weird” because he’s “short-coded” so sometimes he goes to a more human size.

- the narrator being stout just makes sense to me it’s correct in my soul (i actually think i drew him too skinny in most of these. i just didn’t wanna redraw shit bc i am tired but if/when i draw him again he will be less skinny)

- i wanted to work with shape language a lot because the narrator’s whole character is a voice- i wanted to make sure i captured the vibe of some stuffy old writer who has an undeniable silly streak. so he is squares and circles (his tie is the only triangle save for maybe the hair)

- for similar reasons stanley is squares and triangles. felt right

- speaking of stanley his soul patch is a goatee now bc i hate soul patches with a boiling passion. so now it’s a goatee

- i also gave him a little beauty mark by his right eye. i don’t know why i just knew in my heart that it was correct

- stanley uses asl and not bsl because i want to learn asl sososososo bad and this just might be the thing to get me to actually do it. he can project his thoughts to the narrator but he doesn’t like it so he almost always signs

[rjalker]

hey who wants to read the Flatland translation into 2023 English so far.

There's like, 4K words so far out of around 30K

Here's where you can read the actual book for free

=====

Preface to the Second and Revised Edition, 1884.

By the Original Editor

I am writing this preface for my friend from Flatland, since he has been so mentally devastated by his years spent in prison that he can’t write it himself. Rather than copying his words directly, I am paraphrasing on his behalf so you, my readers, will understand what he means.

First of all, he wants to thank all of his readers, both fans and critics, in Spaceland, who’ve enjoyed his book so much that he had to get it reprinted again to meet the demand.

Second of all, also wants to apologize for some errors and misprints in the original edition, though these aren’t actually his fault.

Third of all, he wants to explain a few things that have confused some readers.

He wanted to respond himself, but he’s not the Square he used to be. The problem is not just that he is a prisoner, it’s that no one believes what he has to say, and do nothing but mock him. He’s also an old man now, and his memory is fading. He’s forgotten many of the ideas he learned on his adventure in Spaceland, and the words to describe them.

So he has asked me to reply on his behalf, to explain two points that many confused readers are upset by.

The first thing people complain about is that when a Flatlander sees a Line, that means they have to be seeing something that does have height, not just width and length, otherwise it would be invisible from the side. So why doesn’t he admit that his people already exist in three dimensions?

I understand that people are going to complain about this, since it’s such an obvious problem with the idea that Flatlanders only exist in two dimensions. I gotta say, I really wasn’t sure how to respond when I first read this comment, since I couldn’t think of any counter argument, but fortunately my friend was able to answer it in a way that makes sense to me, so I’ll paraphrase his words here for you:

"I admit," he said, "What this critic said about us having some height is true, but that doesn’t mean we exist in three dimensions the way Spacelanders do. Yes, Flatlanders are tall as well as long and wide, otherwise we’d be invisible, but this isn’t something we can measure or recognize on our own – (Remember, I didn’t even know the word “up” before my adventure in Spaceland) -- and you Spacelanders also have a fourth dimension you don’t have a name for, that I’ll call ‘extra-height’, that you can’t measure or understand on your own either, but that doesn’t mean you’re fourth-dimensional beings anymore than I’m a third dimensional being. Even after my adventure, I still can’t measure height, or “upwards”, not by seeing it, or even trying to imagine it. But I know it’s there, and I have to rely on pure faith.

“Let me try to explain. You can only measure something if it has variation to be measured in the first place. If everyone, and every single thing you see – animals, people, trees, buildings -- is exactly the same height, you can’t measure height, because there’s nothing to compare it to. It’s just the way the world is. Nothing is shorter than anything else, or taller. There’s nothing there to measure. Especially because everything you see is all that you can see. You can’t see above the height of everything, or below it. It’s just what’s there.

“Some Spacelander critics who like to complain too much have suggested we invent a so-called “delicate micrometer” to measure our height, but again, that’s impossible for us to do, because we can’t measure upwards, nor can we compare it to anything else.

“When we see a Line, we see something that is long and bright, and that’s how we know it’s a Line. Brightness and length are needed for us to understand what we are seeing. If there’s no brightness, the Line becomes invisible to us, and may as well not exist.

“This is why, when I try to explin the concept of height, or ‘upwards’ to my Flatland friends, when I try to point out the existance of height in a Line, the only thing they can see is the Brightness. And when I tell them I mean something else, a different dimension, they demand I prove it’s there by measuring it. Which I obviously can’t do, for the reasons I’ve already explained. You can’t measure what has no variation.

“It was just yesterday that the Chief Circle – our High Priest, or maybe in your terms better understood as the ultimate President or King – came to visit me, the seventh of his yearly visits. And just like the last six times he came to visit me, he asked me the same question: ‘Are you sane yet?’.

“And so I tried to explain to him that he was tall as well as wide and long. And you can probably guess his response. ‘You say I am ‘high’, so measure my ‘high-ness’, and then I’ll believe you.’

“And how, exactly, am I supposed to do the impossible? I’ve already explained that we can’t measure height. There was nothing I could do to prove what I said, and we both knew it. He left the room, just as triumphant as the earlier six visits.

“Still confused? Then put yourself in my shoes – imagine a person from the Fourth Dimension decided to visit you, said:

“‘Whenever you open your eyes, you see what appears to be a two dimensional image, and you understand that these are actually many different three-dimensional objects, through shading and light, and because you can reach out and touch them. And you think all you are seeing is Three-Dimensional, but really, you’re also seeing a Fourth Dimension, and it’s not color, or shadows, or anything like that, but a true, separate Dimension. No, I can’t point it out to you, no, I can’t give you any way of measuring it or seeing it, you just have to trust me.’

“And how would you respond to someone saying this? Wouldn’t you want him thrown into an asylum too?

“Well, that’s what happened to me. I was a Square who tried to convince my countrymen that there was a Third Timension, and I was locked up, just as you Spacelanders would lock up anyone who tried to tell you there was a Fourth Dimension.

“Alas, the family resemblance of ignorance and bigotry runs strong through humanity in all Dimensions! Points, Lines, Squares, Cubes, Extra-Cubes, it doesn’t matter – we are all just as likely to make the same mistakes, believing only what we can see, and refusing to think beyond that.

“As your famous Spaceland playwrite, William Shakespeare once said, 'One touch of Nature makes all worlds akin'."

That’s what he told me in response to this complaint, and it makes sense to me.

As a further note on this point, the Author also wants me to also tell you that in this updated edition of his story, we have added back in some of the extra details of his conversations with the Sphere that we originally left out, because we assumed you, the audience, would find them boring and unnecessary.

So there is his defence against the first point of complaint. I can’t find anything to argue with about it, it seems like a solid defence.

As for the second point of complaint…I wish I could tell you that his response to the criticism was just as well thought out, but I can’t.

It has been objected that he is a woman-hater, and, because many of the people making this complaint are Women themselves who feel hurt by this, I want to reassure you to the best of my ability that this is not the case, at least as far as I can tell you that without lying.

The unfortunate fact is that the Square who is the Author of this book is not used to thinking in terms of morality, let alone the ideas of morality that we in Spaceland have.

If I were to literally transcribe his response to this complaint, I’d be making him look much worse than he really is, because he doesn’t really understand how to articulate his thoughts on this topic, because Flatland does not have the words to describe it.

So, as I am already doing by paraphrasing his words for you, I paraphrase again his response to this allegation of misogyny.

It’s my understanding that since he was imprisoned seven years ago, he has changed many of the personal views he expressed in this book, both in regards to Women, as well as the Isosceles and other Lower Classes, such as Irregulars.

His opinion is now much closer to that of the Sphere who visited him, that Straight Lines are in many ways superior to Circles.

But, because he wrote this book from the perspective of a Historian, he aligned himself (maybe too closely) with the general views held by the Higher Classes of Flatland, and, as I’ve since told him, many among us here in Spaceland.

I don’t think I need to tell you that many of our own Historians, who are mostly Men, have generally not considered the lives of Women or other Oppressed People to be worthy of consideration.

The Author also wishes to deny the idea that he is still a supporter of the Circles and Aristocracy. He has had a long time to think since his imprisonment, and while he doesn’t deny that the Circles are very intelligent – otherwise, he says, they wouldn’t have managed to stay in control for so long – he believes that the facts of Flatland speak for themselves.

Revolution cannot always be suppressed by slaughter, and because the Circles themselves tend to be infertile, he believes that Nature Herself has condemned their actions as a failure in the end. “And this is where,” He said, “I see the laws of Nature working in all worlds. Man thinks he is doing one thing, and he thinks he knows best, but Nature is wise, and cannot be denied. Her end goal is much different, and better, than what Man plans for.”

For the other complaints, the Author begs the readers not to assume that every detail of daily life in Flatland is a mirror of some other detail in Spaceland.

He hopes that his book, taken as a whole, will be educational as well as amusing to Spacelanders who are willing to suspend their disbelief and not immediately cry, “That can’t happen”, or “No, things only work like this”.

The rest of this book, I leave to him, in his original words, now with the small edition of some clarification in his conversations with the Sphere.

===

Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions

by A Square

===

Table of Contents:

Part One: This World

01. Of the Nature of Flatland

02. Of the Climate and Houses in Flatland

03. Concerning the Inhabitants of Flatland

04. Concerning the Women

05. Of our Methods of Recognizing one another

06. Of Recognition by Sight

07. Concerning Irregular Figures

08. Of the Ancient Practice of Painting

09. Of the Universal Colour Bill

10. Of the Suppression of the Chromatic Sedition

11. Concerning our Priests

12. Of the Doctrine of our Priests

Part Two: Other Worlds

13. How I had a Vision of Lineland

14. How I vainly tried to explain the nature of Flatland

15. Concerning a Stranger from Spaceland

16. How the Stranger vainly endeavoured to reveal to me in words the mysteries of Spaceland

17. How the Sphere, having in vain tried words, resorted to deeds

18. How I came to Spaceland, and what I saw there

19. How, though the Sphere shewed me other mysteries of Spaceland, I still desired more; and what came of it

20. How the Sphere encouraged me in a Vision

21. How I tried to teach the Theory of Three Dimensions to my Grandson, and with what success

22. How I then tried to diffuse the Theory of Three Dimensions by other means, and of the result

===

Part 1: This World

"Be patient, for the world is broad and wide."

Section 1.

Of the Nature of Flatland

I don’t call our world Flatland because that’s what we call it, but because I want to make what it’s like clearer to you, my happy readers who are privileged to live in Space.

Imagine a vast sheet of paper on which Straight Lines, Triangles, Squares, Pentagons, Hexagons, and other geometric shapes, rather than being drawn by pencil or pen, are alive, and move freely about, either on, or maybe you’d call it within, the surface of the paper, but unable to rise above or sink below it. Almost like shadows, but hard and solid, with glowing edges.

If you can imagine this, you’ll have a pretty good idea of what my country looks like.

Just a few years ago, I would have said, “my universe” instead of “my country”, but now I know better.

In such a flat land, you Spacelanders will almost immediately assume that it’s impossible for there to be anything you would consider “solid”. And yet, if you look down, you’ll see the Triangles, Squares, and other figures, just like I said.

We on the other hand, see no such thing, because the only things we can see are straight lines.

If this sounds confusing, let me give you an example, which you can follow along with while you read.

Get a penny, or another small coin or similar object, and place it in the middle of one of your tables in Spaceland.

When you stand above it and look down, you see the penny as a circle.

But, if you move back to the edge of the table, and lower yourself partway towards the ground – more like the way we Flatlanders see the world – you’ll see that the penny now looks less like a circle, and more like an oval.

Then, when your eye is level with the edge of the table, when you are closest to what you can get to being “on our level”, you’ll see that the penny, seen from above as a circle, now appears to just be a straight line.

The same thing would happen if you did this with a Triangle, or Square, or any other shape you could cut out of cardboard. As soon as you look at it with your eye on the table, it looks like a straight line.

Take for example an equilateral Triangle—who with us is a Tradesman, or Proffesional Man, of the respectable class.

Figure 1 below represents the Tradesman as you would see him while you were bending over him from above, as a triangle with all three sides of equal length.

Figures 2 and 3 represent the Tradesman as you would see him if you began to move your eye closer to the level of the table.

Figure 4 represents what you would see if your eye were level with the table: nothing but a straight line, which is how we see him in Flatland.

[Image description start: Figures 1, 2, 3, and 4. Each is a very simple black and white illustrations of an equal-sided triangle seen from different angles, first from above, where he is plainly seen as a triangle, then slowly moving the view down so that he gets flatter and flatter until he is nothing but a straight line. Image description end.]

When I visited Spaceland, among other things not work talking about in detail, I was told that your sailors have a similar experience when they’re out on the ocean – distant lands might have bays, cliffs, buildings, and all kind of shapes on them from close by, but until you get close enough, or unless the sun’s bright enough to cast stark shadows, all you can see at a distance is a grey line on the horizon.

That’s like what we see when one of our triangular or other acquaintances comes towards us in Flatland. We have no shadows like you do, and none of the other advantages your vision has in Spaceland. If our friend comes closer to us, he becomes larger, if he goes away, he becomes smaller, but he’s always a straight Line. It doesn’t matter if he’s a Triangle, Square, Pentagon, Hexagon, Circle, or anything else. He always looks like a straight Line, and nothing else.

You’ll of course be wondering how we tell eachother apart if this is all we can see, and I’ll be able to make you understand better once I finish describing the people who live in Flatland.

But for the moment, let me pause this subject, and instead tell you about our houses, and the climate of Flatland.

===

Section 2. Of the Climate and Houses in Flatland

Like in your world, we also have four points on our compass: North, South, East, and West.

Since we have no sun or other celestial bodies like you do, we can’t tell where North is in the way you do, but we have our own way.

Similar to your birds, we always know where south is, because for us, we are constantly being pulled in that direction. This pull is very small in our most northern countries, so light that even a reasonably healthy Woman can travel for several furlongs (note that 1 furlong is equal to 220 yards) northward without difficulty.

But even at its lightest, we can still feel it, and tell which way is South. As an added bonus, the rain, which always falls on a predictable schedule, always comes from the North.

Because of this, when we are in a town or city, we can tell the direction from the way the houses are built – because the rain comes from the north, the solid roof faces north, so that the water can run of and safely down the sides without getting inside.

When you’re out in the country were there are no houses, you can use the trunks of the trees instead.

As you can see, it’s usually pretty easy for us to get our bearings.

But one problem is that when you are so far north that you can barely feel this pull, if you were walking in a deserted plain with no trees or houses in sight, I’ve sometimes gotten so turned around that I had to stand in place for hours straight, waiting for the rain to come so I’d know which way to go.

If you are ill or old, or a delicate Female, this pull to the South weighs heavier than on the healthy members of the Male Sex, so it’s considered polite that, if you meet a Lady in the street, you will move to the South and give her the North side to walk on. This can be easier said than done in such short notice, if you are in a northern climate where it’s hard to tell which way is south, or if you’re feeling sick yourself.

Unlike your buildings, ours have no windows, because light comes to us everywhere equally, whether you’re inside and out, during the day or night, and where this light comes from, we don’t know.

A long time ago, philosophers and scholars used to ask eachother “What is the origin of light?” and debate the possible answers. Many people have tried to find the answer to this question, and the only result is that our lunatic asylums have precious space taken up by the people who’ve claimed to solve it.

Our Government tried to persuade people to stop trying to solve this problem by forcing those who did to pay heavy taxes, but when it kept being a problem, the Law Makers, not so long ago comparatively, finally made it completely illegal to talk about.

And here I am, the only one in Flatland who knows the truth to where light comes from. But I can’t explain it to my countrymen, and they just laugh at me – me! The only one in this world who understands that Light comes from the Third Dimension! They laugh at me like I’m the maddest of the mad.

But I’ve gotten off track and this is a painful topic, so let’s get back to talking about houses.

Most of our houses are five-sided shapes, or as they are commonly called, pentagons.

Here is an illustration to help you understand:

[Image description start: A black and white digital illustration with the compass in the upper left corner, showing a pentagonal house in Flatland. Each of the five points of the pentagon are with a different letter, with “A” and “B” going left to right on the bottom line, and “R”, “O”, and “F” left to right on the top, with the two diagonal lines marked with their combined points, so that the top two diagonal lines spell out, “roof”. On the Western diagonal side is a large gap marked by a grey line labled, “Men’s door”. On the east is a much smaller gap labled, “Women’s door”. Image description end.]

The two northernmost sides of a pentagon house, which in the illustration are labled “RO” and “OF”, make of the roof, and these normally don’t have any doors. On the eastern side, there is a small door for Women, and across from it on the Western side is a much larger door for Men. The Southern side, or floor, usually doesn’t have any doors.

Square and triangular houses aren’t allowed, because their angles are much sharper than those of a Pentagon, and since the lines of inanimate objects, like houses, are dimmer than the lines of Men and Women, and are harder to see, if someone wasn’t paying attention, they could get seriously hurt if they accidentally ran into the corner of a Square or Triangle shaped house.

As far back as the eleventh century of our era, triangular houses have been illegal to build, with the only exceptions being for military structures like forts, ammunition stores, barracks, or other state buildings that most people aren't allowed to enter without special permission.

At that point in time, you were still allowed to build square houses, but they were subject to special taxes to discourage people from building more of them.

Three hundred years after triangular houses were outlawed, the Law finally decided that if a town’s population was above ten thousand, then the angle of a Pentagon was the smallest house-angle allowed to be built, in the interest of public safety.

The general community has common sense, and has agreed with this new law, so now, even out in the country on farms, almost all houses you can find will be pentagons. Now and then, though, in some very remote and poor farming district, an antiquarian might still find an ancient square house.

===

Section 3. Concerning the Inhabitants of Flatland

Most adult Flatlanders will reach a length of around eleven of your inches, or twenty-eight centimeters. Twelve inches, or around thirty centimeters, is considered a record breaking maximum.

Our Women are Straight Lines.

Our Soldiers, and the Lowest Classes of Workers are Triangles with two equal sides, each about eleven inches, or twenty-eight centimeters long, with their third side, or base, so short (Usually less than half an inch, or two centimeters), that they form at their vertices an extremely sharp angle, or point.

When these sorts of Triangles have a base of the most degraded type (less than an eighth of an inch, or three millimeters), it’s almost impossible to tell them apart from Straight Lines or Women, so sharp are their needle-like points.

Just like you do in Spaceland, we refer to these kinds of Triangles as Isosceles, which is how I will refer to them from now on.

Our Middle Class consists of Equilateral or Equal-Sided Triangles.

Our Professional Men and Gentlemen are Squares (which is the class I belong to) and Five-Sided Figures, otherwise known as Pentagons, as mentioned above.

Above us are the Nobility, with several classes, starting with Six-Sided Figures, or Hexagons. After Hexagons, the numbers of sides increase until one is given the honorable title of “Polygonal”, or many-sided.

When the number of one’s sides become so high, and the sides themselves each so small, that the figure can’t be told apart from a circle, he becomes part of the Circular, or Priestly order. There is no class higher than that of the Circles.

It is a Law of Nature with us that a male child will have one more side than his father, so that each generation rises in the ranks of nobility, as a rule.

This means that a Square (4 sides) will have Pentagonal sons (5 sides), and his grandsons will be Hexagons (6 sides), and his great-grandsons will be Septagons (7 sides), his great-great-grandsons Octogons (8 sides) and so on and so forth.

But this rule doesn’t always apply to the Tradesmen, the Equillateral Triangles, and it’s even less common in the Isosceles Soldiers and Workers. But to be fair, they can hardly even be described as human beings, since their sides aren’t all of equal length.

Because they’re subhuman, this Law of Nature doesn’t work on them, and most of the time, the son of an Isosceles is still an Isosceles.

[scullz1013]

My first visit to Philadelphia

It has been such a long time since I've blogged I feel like I have forgotton how to use Tumblr.

Anyway, I am in Philadelphia for the first time for the Premier League Summer series and I am I have been very touristy so far. I arrived yesterday afternoon and knowing that Fridays after 5pm are "pay what you like" at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, I decided to use that as a way to try to stay awake as long as possible.

I really wanted to see their collection of armour, I know they have a lot of Milanese stuff which is always beautiful. Unfortunatly the gallery was closed for renovation but I was thankful that a few pieces of armour and some weapons were on display, including a Viking sword from 850!

I mostly looked at their European collection which seemed to have a heavy ecclesiastical focus, lots of stained glass and bits of old buildings that have been lugged across the atlantic. The lady at the front desk reccomended I see Rubens' painting of Prometheus getting his liver eaten by an eagle and, while certainly not a cheery painting, I did like it a lot.

When I left I went out via the Rocky steps and statue. I have never actually seen the movies, but it seemed rude not to and of course some bloke was actually running up the steps as well.

I also explored the immediate area where I am staying - there is a lot of cool street art and murals nearby and the building next door is a trade union headquarters which makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

Today I went to the National Jewish Museum. I walked there via Chinatown (one of the biggest and busiest I have been to in the last few years). The museum is free and focuses specifically on the Jewish American experience and because of that focus I felt that I really learned a lot. I particularly enjoyed the section about Jewish pioneers going out west on their waggons in the 1800s and the section about the civil rights movements of the 20th century.

After a break for some lunch and a bit of planning for the next few days I took a walk up to the City Hall building which is one of the biggest I have ever seen. I really enjoyed it until I walked into the central courtyard which, though lovely, reminded me very strongly of the courtyard of the building I work in at home which slightly dampened my holiday mood. There were also loads of Chelsea fans milling around there ahead of their game against Brighton - all the more reason to move swiftly on. I went to Rittenhouse Square which is a park surrounded by cool old buildings and fancy shops and restaurants. My favourite thing was the frog sculpture, aptly named "Giant Frog".

I got sushi for dinner on the way home and now I am resting my aching feet ready for game day tomorrow. I am very much enjoying Philly so far.

EDIT: It looks like you can no longer caption pictures on Tumblr - I had added what I thought were captions to the image descriptions but you can't see them on the post, so:

Image 1: The trade union building next door to me is named after this guy

Image 3: The building opposite me has an entire mural wall

Image 4: The lifts at PMA were pretty impressive

Image 7: The view from the steps

Image 12: The Jewish Museum's street art contribution

Image 14: City Hall (stock photo) It was too big for me to get a photo without something obstructing the view and / or not getting it all in. Such an impressive building!

Image 15: Benjamin Franklin: Craftsman - huge sculpture near City Hall.

[badstargateimagines]

Good morning team! It’s time I address the elephant (Daniel Jackson) in the post with us. I have received a few comments, chief among them being prev, bringing to my attention that the above cursed image of Daniel Jackson is AI generated. Being as I pride myself on keeping the art of human generated bad memes alive, I feel it’s important that I address this and explain myself. I am doing this out of my own volition because oh my fucking god dude I posted ai generated Daniel Jackson and I have to see it anytime I get a notification and I feel like a Facebook boomer rn.

Thank you prev and all the other people who brought this to my attention I love you all so much and together we can stop our favourite memers and mutuals from posting AI stuff. I will break this down piece by piece so I don’t miss anything.

Explanation

As we all know, I make these high-quality posts from my state of the art office (my toilet) in my fortified compound (my family acreage) in rural Canada with state of the art editing software (Instagram stories and occasionally affinity photo). Regrettably, due to the nature of my blog being goofy, and my goofiest thoughts occurring around 3am, this has resulted in going on google and finding pictures and images at 3am when I needed to be up at 6am. Being as I was half asleep and that Google now has AI generated images on the first page of search results now, my usually less than stringent quality control missed how fucking bizarre and unsettling that picture is. My fuck up, I will make sure it doesn’t happen again. If it does, we can all throw rotting produce at me in the village square.

Why I’m addressing this

Brother, I fucking hate AI. I’ve already lost one job (content writing) to AI, I will not have it make me lose another (being the shitty meme plug for a niche sci fi show). While AI has its place (writing cover letters to be read by another AI), I don’t think we should have let finance bros touch it with a ten foot pole. Since AI has become the hot button thing lately, with known shitty company Adobe now having AI learning from user’s Creative Cloud files, I have decided to be an old man yelling at clouds over it. AI also, for me personally, makes me extremely fucking lazy and I’m already an object at rest, so AI makes me practically catatonic. The reality of living in a future where machine learning can write fan fiction for you, is that if you don’t lose your brain, it atrophies and bounces around your head like a tumble weed. I hate to prove Aristotle right about anything, but he kinda ate with the whole knowledge and self-actualization thing.

Actions I’m taking

I will not be removing the unsettling uncanny valley Daniel Jackson because: a) if I were to edit the post and take out AI Boy, his corpse would still be dragged around in a victory lap depending on which version is reblogged, and b) it should bring you all comfort to know that this post jumpscares me anytime it comes up in my notifications. With that said, in the future, in order to limit the public humiliation that comes with accidentally posting AI bullshit, I’ll stick to home grown pictures and images from the personal archive. At the very least, I’ll use a search engine that can keep AI off my fucking lawn and in turn off of your lawn.

If I do it again

If this happens again, rest assured it’s by accident. You are always encouraged to tell me if one of my posts contains AI images. Thank you to everyone who brought this up this time because keeping AI bullshit off of our collective lawns is a team effort. I appreciate how nice everyone was in bringing this up and I love you all so so so much. Like I said, I’m addressing this formally so that there’s no ambiguity on my stance, not because I felt any sort of pressure. I think it’s important to extend people the same courtesy they extend me when something like this is brought up and take the effort to explain myself and the actions I’m taking moving forward. If you think that’s unnecessary, then I respect that, but I feel it is necessary to own up to my own fuck ups when they’re pointed out so kindly 💖🥰

Hehehe that is SO me when I hehehehe

[flatland-a-2024-translation]

To

The inhabitants of space in general

And H.C. In particular

This work is dedicated

By a humble native of Flatland

In the hope that

Even as he was initiated into the mysteries

Of three dimensions

Having been previously conversant

With only two

So the citizens of that celestial region

May aspire yet higher and higher

To the secrets of four five or even six dimensions

Thereby contributing

To the enlargement of the imagination

And the possible development

Of that most rare and excellent gift of modesty

Among the superior races

Of solid humanity

-

Preface to the Second and Revised Edition, 1884.

By the Original Editor (Also known as Edwin Abbott Abbott)

I am writing this preface for my friend from Flatland, since he has been so mentally devastated by his years spent in prison that he can’t write it himself. Rather than copying his words directly, I am paraphrasing on his behalf so you, my Readers, will understand what he means.

First of all, he wants to thank all of his Readers, both fans and critics, in Spaceland, who’ve enjoyed his book so much that he had to get it reprinted again to meet the demand.

Second of all, also wants to apologize for some errors and misprints in the original edition, though these aren’t actually his fault.

Third of all, he wants to explain a few things that have confused some Readers.

He wanted to respond himself, but he’s not the Square he used to be. The problem is not just that he is a prisoner, it’s that no one believes what he has to say, and do nothing but mock him, and he struggles to tell reality from dream. He’s also an old man now, and his memory is fading. He’s forgotten many of the ideas he learned on his adventure in Spaceland, and the words to describe them.

So he has asked me to reply on his behalf, to explain two points that many confused readers are upset or annoyed by.

The first thing people complain about is that when a Flatlander sees a Line, that means they have to be seeing something that does have Height, not just Width and Length, otherwise it would be invisible from the side. So why doesn’t he admit that his people already exist in Three Dimensions?

I understand that people are going to complain about this, since it’s such an obvious problem, especially to Spacelanders. I must say, I really wasn’t sure how to respond when I first read this comment, because I couldn’t think of any counter argument, but fortunately, my friend was able to answer it in a way that makes sense to me, so I’ll paraphrase his words here for you:

"I admit that what this critic said about us having some height is true, but that doesn’t mean we exist in Three Dimensions the way Spacelanders do. Yes, Flatlanders are Tall as well as Long and Wide, otherwise we would be invisible, but this isn’t something we can measure or recognize on our own – (Remember, I didn’t even know the word “up” before my adventure in Spaceland) -- and you Spacelanders also have a Fourth Dimension you don’t have a name for, that I’ll call ‘Extra-Height’, that you can’t measure or understand on your own either, but that doesn’t mean you’re Fourth Dimensional Beings anymore than I’m a Third Dimensional Being. Even after my adventure, I still can’t measure Height, or “Upwards”, not by seeing it, or even trying to imagine it. But I know it’s there, and I have to rely on pure faith.

Let me try to explain. You can only measure something if it has variation to be measured in the first place. If everyone, and every single thing you see – animals, people, trees, buildings, rocks, even -- is exactly the same Height, then you can’t measure Height, because there’s nothing to compare it to. It’s just the way the world is. Nothing is shorter than anything else, or taller. There’s nothing there to measure. Especially because everything you see is all that you can see. You can’t see above the Height of everything, or below it. It’s just what’s there.

Some Spacelander critics who like to complain too much have suggested we invent a so-called “delicate micrometer” to measure our Height with, but again, that’s impossible for us to do, because we can’t measure Upwards, nor can we compare it to anything else.

When we see a Line from the side, we see something that is Long and Bright, and that’s how we know it’s a Line -- Brightness and Length are both needed for us to understand what we are seeing. If there’s no Brightness, the Line becomes invisible to us, and may as well not exist.

This is why, when I try to explain the concept of Height, or ‘Upwards’ to my fellow Flatlanders, when I try to point out the existence of Height in a Line, the only thing they can see is the Brightness. And when I tell them I mean something else, a different Dimension, they demand I prove that it’s there by measuring it. Which I obviously can’t do, for the reasons I’ve already explained. You can’t measure what has no variation.

It was just yesterday that the Chief Circle – our High Priest, or maybe in your terms better understood as the President or King – came to visit me, the seventh of his yearly visits. And just like the last six times he came to visit me, he asked me the same question: ‘Are you sane yet?’.

And so I tried to explain to him that he was Tall as well as Wide and Long. And you can probably guess his response. ‘You say I am ‘High’, so measure my ‘High-ness’, and then I’ll believe you.’

And how, exactly, am I supposed to do the impossible? I’ve already explained that we can’t measure Height. There was nothing I could do to prove what I said, and we both knew it. So he left the room, just as triumphant as the earlier six visits.

Still confused? Then put yourself in my shoes – imagine a person from the Fourth Dimension decided to visit you, said:

‘Whenever you open your eyes, you see what appears to be a Two Dimensional image, and you understand that these are actually many different Three-Dimensional objects, through shading and light, and because you can reach out and touch them. And you think everything you are seeing is Three-Dimensional, but really, you’re also seeing a Fourth Dimension, and it’s not color, or shadows, or anything like that, but a true, separate Dimension. No, I can’t point it out to you. No, I can’t give you any way of measuring it or seeing it. You’re just gonna have to trust me.’

And how would you respond to someone saying this? Wouldn’t you want him thrown into an asylum too?

Well, that’s what happened to me. I was a Square who tried to convince my countrymen that there was a Third Dimension, and I was locked up, just as you Spacelanders would lock up anyone who tried to tell you there was a Fourth Dimension.

Alas, the family resemblance of ignorance and bigotry runs strong through humanity in all Dimensions! Points, Lines, Squares, Cubes, Extra-Cubes, it doesn’t matter – we are all just as likely to make the same mistakes, believing only what we can see, and refusing to think beyond that.

As your famous Spaceland playwrite, William Shakespeare once said, 'One touch of Nature makes all worlds akin'."

That was the Author’s answer in reply to the first complaint, and it makes sense to me.

As a further note on this point, the Author also wants me to also tell you that in this updated edition of his story, we have added back in some of the extra details of his conversations with the Sphere that we originally left out, because we assumed you, the audience, would find them boring and unnecessary.

So there is his defense against the first point of complaint. I can’t find anything to argue with about it, it seems like a solid defense.

As for the second point of complaint…I wish I could tell you that his response to the criticism was just as well thought out, but I can’t.

It has been objected that he is a woman-hater, and, because many of the people making this complaint are Women themselves, who feel hurt by this, I want to reassure you to the best of my ability that this is not the case, at least as far as I can tell you that without lying.

The unfortunate fact is that the Square who is the Author of this book is not used to thinking in terms of Morality, let alone the ideas of Morality that we in Spaceland have.

If I were to literally transcribe his response to this complaint, I’d be making him look much worse than he really is, because he doesn’t really understand how to articulate his thoughts on this topic, because Flatland (or at least, his country in Flatland) does not have the words to describe it.

((Note from the second editor: I want to emphasize that when the original Editor here says the Author didn’t have the words for Morality, he means that very literally, as you’ll see later, when the Author is narrating for himself. End of editor’s note.))

So, as I am already doing by paraphrasing the his words for you, I will paraphrase again his response to this allegation of misogyny.

It’s my understanding that in the seven years since he was imprisoned, he has changed many of the personal views he expressed in this book, both in regards to Women, as well as the Isosceles and other Lower Classes, such as Irregulars.

His opinion is now much closer to that of the Sphere who visited him, that Straight Lines are in many ways superior to Circles.

But, because he wrote this book from the perspective of a Historian, he aligned himself (maybe too closely) with the general views held by the Higher Classes of Flatland, and, as I’ve since told him, many among us here in Spaceland.

I don’t think I need to tell you that many of our own Historians, who are mostly Men, have generally thought that the lives of Women and other Oppressed People were not worthy of caring or writing about.

The Author also wishes to deny the idea that he is still a supporter of the Circles and Aristocracy. He has had a long time to think since his imprisonment, and while he doesn’t deny that the Circles are very intelligent – otherwise, he says, they wouldn’t have managed to stay in control for so long – he believes that the facts of Flatland speak for themselves.

Revolution cannot always be suppressed by slaughter, and because the Circles themselves tend to be infertile, he believes that Nature Herself has condemned their actions as a failure in the end.

“And this is where,” He said, “I see the laws of Nature working in all worlds. Man thinks he is doing one thing, and he thinks he knows best, but Nature is wise, and cannot be denied. Her end goal is much different, and better, than what Man plans for.”

For the other complaints, the Author begs the readers not to assume that every detail of daily life in Flatland is a mirror of some other detail in Spaceland.

He hopes that his book, taken as a whole, will be educational as well as amusing to Spacelanders who are willing to suspend their disbelief and not immediately cry, “That can’t happen”, or “No, things only work like this”.

The rest of this book, I leave to him, in his original words, now with the small edition of some clarification in his conversations with the Sphere.

((Note from the second editor: If you would like to read the Author’s original words, as transcribed by the original Editor, please look for Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions, online. It is Public Domain and belongs to everyone, so you can read it, or listen to it as an audiobook, completely for free.)