#classic bedtime stories for grown-ups

[self-confidenceinfluencer]

Beauty and the Beast Bedtime Story

Beauty and the Beast Bedtime Story Listen to this classic fairy tale that might bring back nostalgic memories of being read to as a child. This favorite fairy tale of Beauty and the Beast (L Belle et Bete),  written in 1757 by successful novelist and fairy tale French writer, Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve, is narrated by Author Jennifer Jones as a bedtime sleep story that grown-ups can…

[ohbabydollie]

goofy dad schlatt (inspo @lovable-liar)

first things first, he refuses to have ipad children, will buy them toys, books, etc. but NO ipad

30 minutes a day MAX if they do get an ipad from a family member

loves reading books to them, will do voices, bring out hand puppets, the whole works if it means they’re happy

will ask people for favors if the kid wants something

“ted, just sing the damn song for my kid”

he tends to be the more fun parent

you’ll send him and your kid to the grocery store with a list and they do come back with the items and maybe a little more

“edible cookie dough? schlatt, i didn’t put this on the list!”

“sorry doll, but the kiddo was beggin’ for it”

came back with a cat once which you were slightly upset about but it ended up being one of your favorites

“thought ya said ya didn’t want the kitty” schlatt says smiling

“shut up, she’s grown on me” you say petting the cat as it lays on your chest, cooing at it when it purrs

will do the most during christmas for your kids

putting up decorations as soon as thanksgiving is over so when they wake up they can decorate the tree with him

will make gingerbread houses, cookies, make them watch the classic movies, etc.

buys them christmas advent calendars

makes sure everything is perfect for christmas morning

reads them books at bedtime

loves tucking them in when he gets the chance

teaches his kids to play baseball and makes sure to go easy on them

if anyone else is with them he’ll scold them if they throw the ball too hard and almost hit his kid

if his kid asks what he does he just tells them that he makes videos online for money

sometimes it causes a phone call home

“my husband does make videos online and yes he yells a lot but they aren’t what you think…NO HE DOESN’T DO PORNOGRAPHY!”

lots of the single moms flirting with him at games which he has to shut down real fast

sometimes their the mother of their kids’ friends which makes pickup awkward when both of you go to pick them up

the teenage years get worse though, but that’s a story for another time

[tmbgareok]

I had no idea that this song would eventually become tied to memories that I will think about during my last few moments of my life (which I hope isn’t happening for at least a hundred more years.)

Kiss Me, Son of Blog is always free to subscribe. You can also just read it here if interested. I love these guys and all the like-minded fans.

Have you ever found a song that followed you through your whole life?

Let’s just get this out of the way right at the top: “Birdhouse in Your Soul” is a never-skip, beautiful piece of music that may very well be one of the greatest songs ever written and recorded. Like many of John Linnell’s melodies preceding hit or to follow, each phrase takes you on this cascading journey of almost classical levels of perfection. It is full of so many complimentary sounds and arranged like a Christopher Nolan story board.

The structure of this song alone is a narrative twist: it kicks off with a bridge, followed by a musical intro, and then dives into the chorus before you even hit the first verse. It's a song that never fails to excite me, especially when I introduce it to the uninitiated.

First Encounter: The Notebook in the Bedroom

The way I was introduced to this song is rather serendipitous as I read the lyrics to the bridge without music or any context many months before I would finally locate and purchase Flood, my first TMBG record.

Last week, I shared that while in the 6th grade, I was in my friend’s bedroom, I picked up a spiral notebook laying on his bed to read what was scribbled down.

“I’m your only friend.

I’m not your only friend

but I’m a little glowing friend

but really I’m not actually your friend

but I am.”

I thought this was some oddball thing he had written and laughed while I demanded an explanation for the nonsense. He said it was some lyrics he heard that he liked from a song on the radio. A station that his older sister was into was playing it.

Through the Years: Birdhouse in the Rearview Mirror

7 years after I read that piece of paper with the bridge for Birdhouse in Your Soul, I would become a dad at age 19. Every night when it was time for bed, I would sing my son this song in a more lullaby-inized way of course (slower and softer.)

Over the next 8 years, I 3 more awesome kids. for a several years, three of them were all at an age where they loved falling asleep to Dad singing lullaby songs.

Birdhouse, Older, What is a Shooting Star, and Mammal among others were all sung nightly x3 for at least 3 years. Now, at 44 years old, 3 of my children are adults who can vote. One finished college and is married, building a life of his own. Half of my kids no longer live at home let alone want me to sing them songs at bedtime.

This used to be a song that I would hear and think of that day when I read the opening lyrics in my best friend’s notebook. Now, I think about how my kids have all grown up and life is different. Really good but different.

Did anyone else sing this to their kids?

There are roughly as many years ahead of me as there are behind me and I’m excited to see how many more memories I form around this song that fell into my life one day. I’m curious to hear if there are any other fan-parents who sang TMBG songs to their kids at bedtime or are there any fans who had these songs sung to them?

[afterburning]

my heart is turned to stone;

there hadn’t been a place at home for stories, so jiyu hadn’t grown up on them, or at least not the ones that didn’t focus on military achievement. of course, there had been history: tales of failed campaigns and ancestors that had won decisive battles. his grandfather painted as a hero, family legends and disappointments that jiyu’s mother would tell him about as she tucked him in.

all of his bedtime fantasies had centered around war. it had taken jiyu joining the navy, bright-eyed and excitable, for anyone to tell him about myths predating his family’s name. when he thinks back on it he recalls many nights spent sitting on shipdecks, talking to pass the time and beat back the monotony of life at sea. he’d been told of monsters in the depths beneath them and birds the size of mountains, men dying of long-forgotten curses and of blades lost in battles fought long ago. jiyu had never taken any of it at face value, but he was a sailor like any other after a few months, adding his own twists to the classics of seafaring entertainment. he hadn’t imagined that he’d have experiences straight out of the horror stories they made up in the middle at the night with the sort of breathless laughter that accompanies good fun and a suppressed shudder when looking back into the black of a moonless night.

but here he is now. gone a month, the nurses had told him, unconscious for another three days; he has trouble wrapping his mind around those facts, but his body remembers. there’s a weight to his limbs he’s never felt before, even a week in recovery. exhaustion, set in deep, like he hasn’t had restful sleep in a long time. nevermind that he’s spent most of recent memory with his eyes closed and his mind skipping out on him.

and then, of course, his skin-turned-stone. the world is muffled on his right side, his ear cool to the touch. after waking up, after seeing it in the mirror for the first time, jiyu thought about cutting all of it off: losing his hearing and the skin of his thigh would be nothing in comparison to losing his mind. it might not spread, the nurse had said, and all jiyu had heard was it might. and now he’s stuck, waiting for others to find information lost to time, taking scalding baths and coating stiff flesh with vinegar. there’s no way to make peace with it and nothing to do about it. jiyu, before his illness has turned him into carved rock, has lost the ability to move forward.

zhaos die young. he wishes death would come to him more honourably.

         ... i strike it, and it hurts my hand.

updates (ic)!

tldr; jiyu's sick, thinks he's dying, and is losing his hearing on his right side. until he's cured in the seventh month of the year, this will affect his mood and the way he interacts with people. more info below:

jiyu and yerim were stuck in the spirit world for a full month (thread detailing their adventure incoming). they reappeared in the spirit wilds of dragonstone afterwards and jiyu returned to hari bulkan the moment he could (as acting head of house with jian still MIA).

he's afflicted with greyscale, a disease thought a myth that hasn't been heard of in thousands of years. greyscale leaves skin dead, stiff, and discoloured, with a stone-like appearance. greyscale is said to spread and leave men succumbing to madness before they turn to stone (and die). while jiyu's greyscale does worsen it doesn't spread, but he doesn't know this. jiyu, and anyone knowledgeable enough of the disease or close enough for him (or yerim) to have been told about this are operating under the assumption that he's dying.

jiyu's got greyscale in the following spots: - his left mid-thigh. the symptoms aren't bad; he's prone to shifting his weight to the other side, but not super bothered by this. - a tiny patch at the second joint of his left little finger, bad enough that he can't bend it. - his right ear. when jiyu returns from the spirit world his hearing on that side is muffled, but it gets continously worse over the next month until he can't hear anything at all. since it's a highly visible spot, everyone meeting him in person would be able to tell that something's up. in social situations he'll have a harder time engaging in group conversations, and his sense of balance will be off.

jiyu would not be forthcoming about this affliction being a death sentence. if your muse isn't close to him it might be possible that they would've heard about it through different channels, though.

he's going to be sticking around hari bulkan for the next few months while attempts are being made to find a cure. likely some desk work or training of recruits, no active duty. he's going to be losing his mind a little over this (man's going stir crazy).

but the good news is: he will be cured! currently plotted is that they find it in the seventh month, and suho's gonna come through on the dragon blood he needs to bounce back. he'll retain a few scars after and have issues with tinnitus (psychosomatic), but obviously that's no issue when the alternative is dying.

updates pt. 2 (ooc)!!

i'm trying to phase out of blood moon event threads right now and am slowly wrapping up those plots. nothing will be dropped, but i want to move things along a little.

if you've got questions about jiyu's (admittedly shitty) situation right now or where he stands, or if you'd like to adjust plots / start a (new) thread, my dms are always open!! thank you for reading ♡

[asitrita]

For whatever reason I felt like sharing some of my thoughts about spuk today.

I kind of have this hc that Arthur's a really good story teller (probably because i've grown up with tlotr, hp and arthurian legends, plus, you know, the chronicles of narnia, alice in wonderland, peter pan and a lot of fantasy literature for kids and teens), and I like to imagine that, perhaps, back in the day and before all the drama, during the Middle Ages and first decades of the Modern Era, when Spain (and the different Spanish kingdoms) and England had a rather good relationship, when visiting England for whatever diplomatic mission, Antonio would ask Arthur to tell him some stories before bedtime, or during "nap time" after lunch, while laying on a meadow under the shadow of a tree, maybe a oak or old chestnut (so romantic u.u) It is kind of canon, I believe, that Antonio was a huge fan of chivalric themes and medieval heroic epics, like most of Europe at the time, and Spain fed a lot on the chivalric poetry and romance, not only during Medieval times, but also later on. It may seem out of topic, but Spanish conquerors and explorers (which would led to the begining of the Spanish empire), for better or for worse, were greatly inspired by both, classic epic, but also chivalric novels (maybe it is not a coincidence that the literary work that universally mocked the chivalric genre ended up being a Spanish production, Don Quixote). Medieval romance poetry is also a big deal in Spanish literature and folk culture, so it is only fitting he would enjoy fantasy tales and chivalric epic, as well as romance and poetry. The two would complement each other. Arthur would enjoy making up stories, and telling old chivalric romances, adding a little bit of magical and fantastic elements to it (like the magic cauldron tell, or magical swords,and whatnot), that Antonio would very much enjoy, while Antonio would passionately deliver passages from classic works, like The Aeneid, and recite poetry, also around the themes of chivalry and romance, while playing the lute, sometimes singing, rather than merely reciting the verses.

I also have this hc about Arthur being an exceptionally good archer and timidly trying to show off so Antonio notices him. On the other hand, I think Antonio would be skilled in the art of poetry, and be good at languages in general, making him a good rhapsodist. He would also be a pretty skilful musician, and play the lute, the vihuela and be surprisingly good at playing the clavichord (not at all referencing Antonio de Cabezón here). I even imagine during the times of Catalina de Aragon as queen of England he would try to teach Arthur how to improve his fingering and playing technic.

Just a few of my silly hc.

[myhughniverse]

📚Kylie Minogue will read a CBeebies Grown- Ups Bedtime Story! Kylie reads the timeless classic Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown and Clement Hurd. Watch on BBC i Player & CBeebies, Friday 18 October at 6.50pm ✨More info ⬇️

[shebeafancyflapjack]

The Wolf and the Witchling

Little ficlet set in the Gore AU. Silver Guppy is her mother's daughter. (Mention of @idiotwithanipad 's oc Amy)

Tw: attempted SA

-

"Oi, come on, love! We were only bein' friendly!"

"Please stop following me!"

"Who says we're following you? Full of yourself, much?!"

Ashley cursed herself for not making sure she had enough cash on her for a taxi. These two had been hounding her since she'd got off the bus stop. She'd stupidly left both her phone as well as her credit cards back in the room.

Thinking she could lose them, she'd swerved to the footpath rather than continue down the road with no pavement that would have taken her to the main entrance. But they'd spotted her and heckled her at every step.

"You stayin' at that posh place are ya? All right for some!" The taller one with shorn blond hair laughed.

"You gonna invite us up to your room then?" His friend asked.

"Not tonight, sorry." She kept her eyes forward. They'll give up soon, they have to.

The shorter one with a beard walked swiftly in front to block her view.

"What? We not good enough or sumat'?" He challenged.

Ashley winced, her usual confidence suddenly zapped out of her, alone in a woodland path at night with two giant creeps who looked like they could snap her in half.

"I-I didn't say that...J-just that the hotel's really strict on who guests can bring in-" She tried to shake the blame.

"Sod them then! Fucking jumped up wankers!" The blond guy hollered towards the building on the horizon.

A five minute walk. Two minutes if she runs. No chance in these heels.

Too far away for the security guards inside to hear her if she screams.

"Forget about them, love. We can have a sleepover out here in the woods." One of them touches her arm and she cringes.

"Yeah. Be like camping. Got plenty of games we could play."

Ashley's blood runs cold as the dark haired guy leans all too close to her neck and touches her hair.

"Games? Ooh, can I play?!"

All three froze at the new voice.

They turned their heads in unison to see who had joined them.

"What the f-." Blond guy frowned.

"Video games were my favourite. Zelda, Mario, Castlevania! All the classics, hehehe." The silhouette of a young, thin girl with short hair walked slowly towards them, her arms swaying at her side, as if dancing at the same time; "Don't get to play much of them anymore. Got the real thing if I want, hahaha. But I still love games! Hide and seek...Tag...What's your favourite?"

The adults, who were well into their late twenties, all stared as the teenager stepped into a stream of moonlight that removed the veil of shadows from her features. Pale skin, hot pink fringe combined with an ebony crop of hair, dirt stained patterned fishnets, boots and a black and pink overshirt atop a boob tube.

Her face was what struck them speechless. Faded blue eyes that seemed to stare straight through them and a smile that seemed to stretch beyond average width.

"Well? Hehehe. What d'you wanna play?" She asked with a tilt of her head.

"Ain't it past your bedtime, little girl?" The blond one scoffed.

"Hehehehe, I actually just woke up! Long story. Won't bore you with it. Though I am being a little naughty. See....Mummy doesn't like me talking to strangers..." She says, lowering her voice.

One of the men cleared his throat; "Well best listen to 'Mummy' then, darlin', and head on home. This is grown up business."

"I'll have you know I'm nineteen! Hehehe. I'm old enough to drive. But I don't have a car." She pouted for a moment, then giggled; "Mummy gives me dragons instead!"

The two men exchanged baffled looks.

"She's off her fucking nut." The dark haired one doesn't attempt to whisper.

"Mate, I wouldn't have even thought she was sixteen!"

"Yeah, you're a bit on the small side to interest us, love. Head back to the loony bin like a good-"

"I love your dress!"

Dark haired one scoffed; "What?"

The girl somehow managed to glare at him without losing her freaky ass smile.

"I wasn't talking to you. Your clothes are lame as shit." She dismissed.

Ashley had been silent until this moment, when the creepy girl pointed a finger at her, black velvet coverings over her hand.

"Your dress. I love it. It really suits you." She says, sounding sincere.

"Th...thanks...?" She replies, just wanting to run back to her hotel room and lock the door and windows.

The girl tilted her head; "What colour is it?"

"How can you like her dress if you can't even see the colour? You fucking blind or sumat'?!" The blond guy sneered.

"Uhh, yes! Hehehe. I am. Or sumat'." She replied with a roll of her eyes; "But I can see shapes! Hehehehe. My voice bounces off them and back to me! Can make up the colours in my head, but would like to know the truth. Hahaha... I can even see how little you are....down there."

She tilted her gaze towards his groin.

"What the fuck did you just say, you little bitch?!"

Ashley's heart hammered as she reached to grab at the guy before he could lunge towards the girl.

"She's just winding you up, leave her alone!" She looked to the blind teen; "Sweetheart, you don't have to get involved in this, I'm fine. You should head home."

"I am home. And you don't sound fine." The girl replies flatly, smile twitching at the corners; "You sound...scared. My home is lovely. No one should ever be scared here..."

"She weren't scared, were ya, babes?" The dark haired one put his arm around Ashley's waist.

Of course she's scared. She's fucking terrified. There's no two ways about it, these two thugs want to do unspeakable things to her in these woods and other than trying to scratch their eyes out with her press ons, she has no way of defending herself.

She wants to tell the girl the truth. Tell her to run to the hotel and call the police, or do it herself if she has a phone on her. But the kid doesn't even seem to have a purse.

Could the kid outrun either of these? Is it worth the risk of what they might do to her as well?

Fuck. She's not just scared. She's petrified.

"I think you should step away from her now." The pink haired girl says. "She clearly doesn't want to play."

"Oh piss off, you little freak." They both try to drag Ashley away.

Shit, shit, shit. She opens her mouth but the scream she wants to summon won't come.

"I can hear her heartbeat. She really, really doesn't want to play. Hehehhe....Let. Her. Go."

The dark haired one does but the blond one keeps a firm grip on her elbow.

His friend swaggers up towards the girl, towering over her, fists clenched at his side.

"You jealous, hmm? That it? You wanna play with the adults? You're welcome to come...I bet you're actually pretty under all that Twilight shit." He mocks, plucking one of the leaves from her hair.

She frowns up at him; "What's Twilight?"

"What's...? Ha. You look like sorta weird...Never mind. It's a movie about vampires."

"Like Buffy?!"

"Who?!"

"Mate, what are you even up to?!" His friend called, impatient.

"Gimmie a minute!" He turned back to the blind girl; "What I meant is, I can be your fit, much older, vampire boyfriend. And you can be my horny little normal girl...." his eyes wondered down to her boob tube.

The girl giggled; "But I'm not normal. I'm a witch! Just like my mummy."

"Sure you are." He scoffed.

"I'm also dead."

A beat. Their eyes widened as a rivilet of blood began to leak from her ear and down her neck via the single feather earring she wore.

"Holy shit." The blond one gasped.

"What the...Right. I'm done. You stay the fuck away from us." His mate turned away and towards Ashley; "You. Take us back to your hotel room. Don't make trouble or my mate will break your arm, you hear? He's former Navy."

"S'right." Ashley felt his spit against her neck as he hissed; "Be a good girl. We'll have fun once we're tucked up inside."

As they went to turn around, a wall of mist arose in front of them, causing the mansion in the distance to vanish.

The men swore again.

"I told you...to let her go." Repeated the teenager who walked through the mist, having suddenly transported from one spot to another.

Ashley felt the temperature drop on a rather mild July evening. Packing a cardigan hadn't even been a thought and now, suddenly, she wished for a winter coat.

The ex Navy one approached the kid this time.

"Stop these little tricks, you cunt, unless you want me to fuck you into the mud right now-!" He reached for her shoulder.

Ashley watched the girl shudder, eyes closed, struggling to stay calm it seemed as her knees buckled. Oh. What the fuck?!

The bloke's hand had gone straight through her chest. He was staring at it, dumbfounded, before pulling it back.

And then the girl laughed. Louder. And louder.

"How did you do that?!" He demanded to know.

She kept on laughing.

"Answer me, you little shit! What's so fucking funny?!" His fist curled tight but he seemed reluctant to want to try to touch her again.

The girl stared up at him with that terrifyingly unreal smile.

Then she sang.

"....You should not have done that..."

Blood dribbled down from her nostrils as she continued to laugh, her eyes piercing, demonic, into his.

The dark haired man stepped back, just as the sound of a low, furious growl rumbled around them.

Something large and furry crept out through the mist. Moving on all fours, Ashley first thought it to be a dog. A big dog. Then a wolf? No...a bear? Shit, were those paws or knuckles it was walking on? Was it a fucking gorilla?!

Only when it stopped beside the girl could they see it was human...Just about. A human with wild, untamed hair, covered in various animal skins, deep red claw marks across his exposed chest and forearm. His face was bumpy and misshapen but those eyes, those eyes which burned with rage, were very clearly human. It continued to growl, menacingly at them, baring its crooked teeth.

The blind teen stopped laughing and reached to gently stroke his mane.

"Sweet friend. Do you remember what we were talking about the other day? About trying to be more kind?" She asked, softly.

The creature grunted in response, not taking his eyes off Ashley or her stalkers.

"Well," She knelt down, even though he was still around her height on all fours; "These boys weren't being very kind to this lady. She only wants to go home safe, but they want to....play some very nasty games with her." She then leaned in to his ear as she said, not at all subtly; "...And they tried to play them with me too."

At that, the beast's warning growls turned pure savage, spit flying from his lips as his eyes widened. It was enough to make the men retreat.

Ashley barely registered the blond one let go of her arm.

"Dan, what the hell is that?!" The blond one asks his mate.

"How the fuck should I know?! Hey...we didn't touch her, all right. Really, we couldn't!"

"But you tried, didn't you." The girl sneered; "And you called me such horrible names. Should I repeat them to my friend here? Hmm? Should I tell him what you said you wanted to do to me just now?"

The men began to tremble. They shook their heads.

"N-no-."

"I believe their words were," the girl flexed her fingers into the beast's fur as she shuffled closer to him; "Fuck me into the mud."

It roared. Ashley ducked to the ground, covering her head as if a bomb had gone off.

"Screw this! Let's go!"

Her stalkers were practically clutching at each other in terror as they turned tail and raced in the opposite direction.

The beast looked to the girl. Waiting.

"....If they're free...They're free to hurt again." She smiled at the creature; "Have fun!"

He let out a snarl, deep from his haggard throat, eyes glinting with something close to excitement.

Then he ran off, fast as a cheetah, into the woods, following their trail.

Ashley was still trembling in the dirt when the girl approached her.

"You're safe now. You should probably get to bed. Shame. I was hoping to show you more of my dresses. This one isn't my best, hehehe." She span around on her boots as if wearing some dazzling gown; "Yours is much prettier."

This wasn't real. None of this could be real. If it weren't for the bruises on her arms from where those men had held her, she'd be sure someone had slipped something in her drink to make her see crazy shit.

Her heart was still hammering away as she rose to her feet, knees juddering. The mist was clearing away now. Suddenly, she was right outside the hotel, rather than a golf course away.

"Wha...What are you?! What was-?"

Two blood curdling screams from a pair of young men rang out through the forest, waking the birds far too early, sending a flock of them against the full moon.

The girl giggled and twirled, spreading her arms out.

"He won't kill them. Wouldn't want them having to stay in our home, or even in the big house." She said cheerily; "But don't worry. They'll never be capable of playing nasty games again. Hehehehe."

She didn't know how to feel. Relieved? Grateful? Horrified? She'd walked out of a true crime event into a monster movie.

"Hey...You're staying at the big house, aren't you?" The girl asked, surprisingly casual.

"I...Y-yeah." She stammered, unsure if she should be telling the ghost that.

Ghost. Witch. Fucking hell.

The teen suddenly looked bashful, fiddling with the coverings on her hand.

"Could you...do me a favour? I need a message delivered to one of the rooms. Could you do that? Please! It has to be you. If you ask the people at the front desk, they'll say the room is empty."

"....Why would they say that?"

"Because it is. Hehehehe."

Ashley shook her head. Conversations with a dead girl was one thing but a pyscho dead girl was another. But...better to have it on her side, she supposed.

"Okay. W-what's the message?"

Three minutes later, Ashley breathed a sigh of relief as she entered the main doors of the hotel. She brushed off the staff's concerned questions about her wellbeing and asked for a piece of paper and a pen.

After trotting up to the East Wing, she kneels down to slide the note underneath the room marked Out Of Use Until Further Notice. She'd been instructed to make sure the writing was facing up.

The note contains the message that the girl had asked her to write.

Sorry I poked your eyes. Hope we can still be friends. Your daddy said you're sick. :( Get well soon. Hugs, Silver. xxx

There. Done.

She'd even included the damn emojis the ghost requested. And then, when Ashley had turned back on her way towards the hotel, the girl was nowhere to be seen. Neither was the creature...or what remained of her attackers.

Fine with her.

Ashley made her way back to her bedroom, locked the door and immediately rummaged in her bag for some valium. She was ready to dive into bed and let this all be just a weird fucking nightmare.

-

Silver sat on the grass, humming to herself and hugging her knees as she faced across the field to the mansion in the distance. Some of the lights were turning off now, not that she knew that, but was aware it was getting very late. Had the scared girl managed to go to sleep? Had she delivered her note? Was Amy already asleep or had she read it already?

Only time would tell. She had forever to wait and find out, forgetting all the sleeping she would do in between.

There's a couple of grunts beside her as her guardian returned from his hunt.

"Hello, you! Did you have fun chasing them nasty boys?" She grinned.

He huffed and wiped some of the blood dripping through his mane with his sleeve.

"People like that make me wish I had Mummy's fire. Or even your claws. All I've got is a giggle! Hehehehe." Fucksake. She sighed; "Hope Mummy isn't too mad when she finds out. We did the right thing, didn't we? That poor lady was about to be hurt and we stopped it."

She shuffled close to him and grinned, mischievously.

"You're a hero, Mr. Ra!" Silver teased, quiet as she could, nudging his shoulder.

He growled at her for that but she took no offence, seeing the smallest remmant of a coy smile on those crooked lips in her special vision. A moist knuckle was pressed against her forehead. She smiled and huddled against his side as he rested on the grass, continuing to lick the blood from his paws.

They waited there for Mummy to return from whatever important job she was doing. Silver continued to hum some one hit wonder from the 90s as she massaged Ra's scalp. He purred and leaned into her touch. After twenty years, she'd finally found his Achilles heel, the secret trick to make him like her.

"I wonder if the Fizzy Girl watched us scare those mean men away." Silver mused aloud.

Ra merely grunted, unsure himself, resting his head on her knee.

"I hope so. I want her to know she'd be safe with us, if her daddy ever let her play outside. If I found out anyone hurt her, I'd let you to rip them to fucking shreds. Hehehehe!"

[fancy-rock-dove]

Ten Books To Know Me

Rules: 10 (non-ancient) books for people to get to know you better, or that you just really like.

Tagged by the lovely @landwriter whose list I am absolutely taking notes from to add to my own to-read list. Thank you for my evening of reminiscing about some of my favorite stories! I'm about to digress... a lot. I'm wordy. This is known. I'm taking the spirit of "non-ancient" to mean things-people-may-not-have-read-before to recommend, and also trying to stick to the last century or two. I will, however, immediately break the first of those rules because it is impossible to make a list of works to read to know me without including:

The Lord of the Rings - J.R.R. Tolkien

I know, everyone and their grandma has heard of LOTR, this is probably not a shock to anyone, but it holds such a large and ever-recurring place in my life that I would be remiss to leave it out. Please excuse me as I digress into story time on this one and feel free to skip to the next one.

The very first time I read LOTR it felt almost like a rite of passage of sorts; I'm the oldest sibling by several years, and staying up at the age of nine an hour or two after my siblings went to bed to partake in silent reading time in the living room with my dad has a whole host of feelings and memories associated with it. We had this large, red-leather-bound, slipcase-contained, single-volume edition that really felt to nine-year-old me that I was reading something Special. It was I think one of the first things I read and discussed in real time in such serious depth purely for the love and fun of it. We stopped when I'd finished The Bridge of Khazad-dum for my dad to put on the Moria scenes of the movies (which I'd never seen before) because we wanted to chat about adaptation choices. And what's more these books as a whole reward thinking about. I could talk at length about love of the concept and impact of translation and language, a love for song and poetry as important and natural forms of human expression, the reframing of the angst and forces of modernized warfare within the context of epics in the style of the ways people have always talked about and contextualized war, about the ideas that everyone has something to contribute and no contribution made in good faith is worthless, the examination of the fact that evil can arise from fear and good intentions. The first time I studied Beowulf (and many other classic ballads and epics besides) the connection, the sense that I had also grown up hearing stories like this (by design because this is what happens when scholars write about their specialties, even obliquely) was distinct and rewarding. But equally important I think is that the amount it rewards revisiting has let it be a bit of a constant in my life; the first thing my sisters and I all did read together when we started doing out-loud bedtime storytime all together a few years later; one of the first things I talked with my best friend about; the thing that one of my longest-lasting groups of friends first created our "book club" around in undergrad by reading it aloud (again) together (a "club" which keeps us close years later even though our majors and career paths are all wildly different from each others'). And every time I find I have more to see or say or think about and different aspects I find capturing my attention. And of course, the story itself is one I love dearly, and which probably shaped my lifelong love of a good epic narrative.

The Hawk of May - Gillian Bradshaw

Y'all, picking one of Bradshaw's books/series to recommend was a real struggle for me I have to say. I remember loving all the ones I've read. They're historical fiction with a knack for both thoroughness of detail and immediacy of drama. I can't actually pinpoint when I started calling historical fiction one of my favorite genres but I think Gillian may be the one who did it. Most of her works are set in ancient Egypt, Greece, Rome, etc. (I also highly recommend The Beacon at Alexandria [cross-dressing undercover female doctor] which was nearly my pick for this spot on the list) but Hawk of May has the double-notability of being her first book (which she wrote while in undergrad???) and the beginning of a trilogy which holds the dubious honor of containing the first book to ever make me physically throw it across the room in character-related grief. This has only happened two or three times in my life. Given that the trilogy is a historically-inspired retelling of the tales of King Arthur's knights, and Sir Gawain in particular, please take this as a compliment given how well it made me feel the emotions you'd expect to about *waves hand* all of the end of that story.

Dealing With Dragons - Patricia C. Wrede

And all of the Enchanted Forest Chronicles, basically. I LOVED dragons when I was younger (and to be fair haven't exactly grown out of it yet either though it's less all-consuming these days :) ) and read a lot of dragon-related books. I could absolutely make a top ten list just within that category (shout out to the mention I saw in one of these lists of Dragon's Milk, I thought that book was great at the time, and the mental image of prophetic visions shaped in clay on a potter's wheel is one of those ones that stuck in my brain over the years) but Wrede's series stands out also for the humor and the treatment of fairy tale tropes that I think probably actually had a formative impact on my sense of humor. I lost track of how many times I reread this series when I was young. There's a preference for the practical in all our main characters that makes for some very funny loving satire of fairy tale tropes, and also generates some unapologetically hilarious situations. If you want a princess fighting/talking down her own knights because she'd rather they not bother her dragon with their "rescues", or a king who uses his magic sword to do plumbing, this is an excellent series for you. The worldbuilding is quite fun too.

The Complete Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle

Breaking my "there's any chance at all you haven't heard of this" rule yet again, but it's another important installation on my bookshelf and one of the earliest collections of mysteries that got me reading mystery as a genre. Think I read my way through a large chunk of these works between the ages of 10 and 12 and, in addition to being the excellent mysteries people know them for, I think it may also be one of the first collected series of works I'd read that I was aware and could see was published serially. There are a lot of cool things to be said about the interest of the eccentric main character and the presentation of the stories from the point of view of his resigned but invested flatmate, not to mention the way we are far less interested in the law than Putting Things Right. For me though I also really enjoyed reading and thinking about what it would have been like to read a story like this actually published serially when you just had to wonder about the answer and discuss with friends. Baby's early serious metatextual thoughts about collective experience of stories.

A Morbid Taste for Bones - Edith Mary Parteger / Mistress of the Art of Death - Diana Norman

Probably cheating to group two entirely distinct books/series here but I can't mention my historical fiction and my mysteries and then not mention my historical fiction murder mysteries! I associate them very closely because they're both set in 12th century England and feature badass protagonists that people tend to underestimate. A Morbid Taste for Bones is part of the Cadfael Chronicles, featuring Brother Cadfael the mystery-solving former-crusader monk who is absolutely not above breaking some rules or some bones to do right by people. Mistress of the Art of Death features Adelia the Sicilian-trained forensic pathologist who's kindly come out to the far-less-renaissance-influenced 12th cenutry England to help them with their murder mysteries and has a Time navigating actually doing her job while Not being accused of witchcraft in the process. The latter is generally a bit darker in tone than the former, and the former is a bit more episodic book-to-book in general, but I'd recommend them both, they're good fun (as much as a murder mystery can be). BBC also did an adaptation of the Cadfael Chronicles which I watched a couple episodes of once... maybe I should watch some again sometime. :)

Ancillary Justice - Ann Leckie

I am a huge fan of a story that's tightly written around its very premise, and this book absolutely delivers. I've been a sci-fi nerd for much of my life, so the premise of the interface between a biological and computer mind/thought process is something that comes up a lot. And even so, I distinctly remember getting into this book and feeling like the way we were using the very nature of our protagonist was innovative. This book has it all: anti-imperialism, meditations on the nature of memory and identity and personal responsibility (as they arise in our protagonist's unique situation and actually apply to all people), worldbuilding that marks the relationship between language and values and environment and beliefs and culture, thematically relevant music/poetry, a fantastically badass main character, an exquisitely wet and pathetic sidekick she does not want (said lovingly), suspense, action, intrigue, and of course, retribution. Just an excellent read with fantastic worldbuilding and a very tightly-woven narrative structure in the first book in particular. Not to mention a complete disregard for the concept of gender. :)

Story of Your Life - Ted Chiang

And honestly all of Ted Chiang's short stories. Excellent concise yet rich and fascinating worldbuilding in each one. The epitome of stories that delight in breaking down any illusion of the separateness of language and history and math and science as complimentary human pursuits in the larger search for understanding (sometimes explicitly in the mechanics of the stories). This one in particular though may by my favorite short story. It is the story the movie Arrival is based on, but while I like both, I personally found after watching the movie that I still think the two are doing somewhat different things. This story means a lot to me not least because I read it in the midst of getting degrees in both French and in Physics, was just really getting into some of the upper-level approaches like Lagrangian mechanics, relativity, gauge switching, all that good stuff, and was spending a not-inconsiderable amount of time thinking and talking about the ways my degrees were actually similar, how it was all about learning the languages to look at problems from different frames of reference. And so naturally this story made me feel that a lot of my thoughts were Seen. And of course I'm also a sucker for anything approaching time-travel and things that poke at the nature of free will and self-determination, so the meditations of this story in particular on the relationship between our understanding of physics and our understanding of ourselves were hitting real hard at the time.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead - Tom Stoppard

So this is technically a play, but you CAN read it if you want to. The movie is also good and actually directed by the playwright though! I think this was one of my earlier experiences with both existentialism and absurdism in theater. They simply do not let you out with any kind of French degree without consuming a fair amount of angsty, thoughtful, existential and absurdist midcentury books, films, and plays in my experience, but I think it was actually this that was one of my earliest notable reads/views in a couple of those genres, particularly because it was one of my earlier experiences with the concept of tragicomedy. And it actually is also fun! Especially, in my opinion, if you enjoy Hamlet and are in the habit of taking it seriously. It's behind-the-scenes Hamlet, again with thoughts on free will and probability and destiny and the concept of being doomed by the narrative, but with the added bonus of Hamlet occasionally showing up and sounding particularly unhinged from an outside perspective. If The Lion King is furry Hamlet, then Lion King 1 1/2 is furry Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. This may be a trend with me, but I really enjoy the use of Hamlet in particular (already a deeply thematically adaptable play) to parallel uniquely 20th century flavors of angst and questions about the objectivity of reality. I'm a sucker for narratives that acknowledge through their very premise or form that these new-feeling questions or problems are new iterations of human questions we've been grappling with for centuries/always.

The Eyre Affair - Jasper Fforde

A very fun reality-hopping story (and series) with a lot of love for language and wordplay and, of course, Jane Eyre. The worldbuilding in this one is a delight, from the dodo home-cloning-kit-derived pet to the time-traveling dad who may or may not have caused bananas. Fforde is here to have fun at the expense of (or perhaps in kahoots with) language and the fabric of well-known stories and narrative structures. Characters trying and failing to fit the genre they think they're living in is a somewhat recurring phenomenon. @moorishflower's mention of this one in Radio Silence had me screaming about it because the Thursday Next series is indeed excellently fun.

Babel - R.F. Kuang

Confession time: I'm actually reading this one right now, so this is less books-that-shaped-me and more books-I'm-into-right-this-second. So I can't speak for how it ends, but I'm loving how it's going so far. Once again the anti-imperial messaging is strong in this one and it does a fantastic job of making me angry in the ways it should. Very cool premise founded on a magic system that gets its power directly from the nuances of meaning that do not carry over in translation from one language to the other. I would recommend and also love to talk about it with people.

Alright! Think I'm a little late to the tagging game, so forgive me if you've already done it, but I don't think I've seen lists (but would love to if you'd like) from @goodbye-blue, @hopecomesbacktolife, @historyandqueershenanigans, @wordsinhaled (hi!), @chiron-crow, @merytsetesh, @ashes-of-chironides, and anyone else who wants to join in should consider themselves tagged! <3

[hybrid-royalty]

The Verboten Story

This is a short fic for @baby-royalty depicting my take on the circumstances of how Lizzy was turned into a vampire

There are moments. Split seconds in time where everything happens slowly but all at once.

Elizabeth had left him. Gone to visit some other family in Mystic Falls. Elijah had encouraged this betrayal, said she needed a break, need to spread her wings and become her own person. It had been an absolute nightmare come true and Klaus had given her the silent treatment in the weeks leading up to her departure. Then maintained it for the entire summer, no matter how many texts she sent, calls he didn't answer, even a letter hastily written on the back of a post card.

It was a punishment, he wanted her trip to be ruined by his displeasure a thousand miles away. He wanted her to crave and yearn for his attentions like she had as a child. Little Lizzy had worshipped him from before she could walking. Babbling his name - 'Neelaus' - as best she could. It was Klaus she followed around throughout the Mikaelson compound, it was Klaus she wanted the best bedtime stories from, and it was Klaus who played tag, and hide n seek, and squirreled her away from school to hit the cinema. It was Klaus who built her career from dust and pushed her in becoming the person he knew she could be.

And what did she do...?

Leave. For greener pastures.

It wasn't out of nowhere if he was being honest with himself. As she matured into a young woman, a wretched teenager, the fighting had gotten worse and worse. Lizzy was growing into a person outside of himself and he wasn't handling it gracefully. It seemed as though they would butt heads over the smallest of infractions and it resulted in the classic Mikaelson family traditions.

Only her little human body could not take the violence it was offered. Klaus could stab Elijah in the gut every other day, but take his daughter by the throat and slam her against the stone wall once...? Bruises on her neck in the shape of his fingers that wouldn't go away for weeks. Covered by make up and shame so Elijah wouldn't see. So she wouldn't start an even worse fight between the brothers. And it was never just once.

He tried. By the gods he tried so hard to mind his temper around her - but she would not stop pushing. Every boundary he set she seemed to smash through with glee and then taunt him with the pain he caused in response. Lizzy wouldn't always take the blood he offered, choosing instead to punish him with the fact he'd hurt her, breaking the promise he made every time not to do it again.

So while Klaus refused to see the part he played, it was no wonder she fled, to see her other family. To try and make bonds that made sense to her. To escape the shadow he cast on her. The hybrid's presence was suffocating, who except Elijah had ever sustained nearly two constant decades of it?

It was only the summer though and Klaus tried to do her a mercy. Welcome her with open arms and pretend the whole debacle never occurred. Though no doubt the punishment would have still be felt for years to come, but at least for the moment he would forgive her.

Did the little harlot take it?

Lizzy's attitude had grown exponentially over the summer. Klaus would tell himself later that even Elijah didn't know what to do with her.

Three days. Only three days had passed.

There are moments. Split seconds in time where everything happens slowly but all at once.

A screaming match. Klaus would never remember what it was about. All he could hear was the dull white roar of blood in his ears. But the memory of what he did next would stay in vivid technicolor for the rest of his eternity. It was like watching himself from the side, everything in freeze frame, as his hand lashes out and his fingers curl around her neck. There's not even fear in her eyes as she matched his glare, her human mind too slow to comprehend that she was already dead. There was a snap that reverberated up his arm, irrevocable. Jarring and final he felt his heart stop before hers did.

Lizzy, more full of life than anyone he'd ever known, dropped to the floor like a sack of flour. His daughters heart beat ten full beats after he killed her, like it didn't know yet, like everything was okay, like she was still straining to be there with him. All the victims in his long lifetime and it was a detail he'd never noticed. But standing there, paralyzed, all he could hear was the dull roar in his ears and the sound of her fading pulse.

Then there was silence. The entirety of creation stopping in shock. Stopping to mourn. Where did her soul go...? What an inane thing to wonder in that moment. The synapses were not firing correctly for him. Elijah showed up some point. Lizzy might have been cold by then, Klaus had no idea how much time had passed. He couldn't answer any of his brother's questions. It was Elijah who held her in tears. Who cradled her lifeless body. Has she had blood? He kept asking but neither of them knew.

An accident. Elijah was the one that said that too, assumed it, he could not think the worst of his brother. Klaus was many things but he was not someone who could hurt Lizzy. Not like this. They had kept the secret too well from him. It was a way out, Klaus could only swallow and nod. Accident. No one would ever know, it was just another of his secrets Lizzy would take to the grave with her. His final sin.

Klaus' greatest shame would be that when Lizzy stirred again, his relief was joined equally by his fear. Fear that he would be known. That she would tell Elijah. That he would finally face real consequences for his impulsive actions. Fear that she would know and he would be known.

[popculturebuffet]

Next up, favorite character from the Adult Swim originals from 2013 -15 : Newsreaders, Hot Package, Tim and Eric's Bedtime Stories, Mr. Pickles, Rick and Morty (aka their most iconic cartoon original in the 2010s), King Star King, Decker, Black Jesus, The Jack and Triumph Show, and Neon Joe, Werewolf Hunter? Mike Tyson Mysteries excluded since we already covered that in the Warner Bros Animation ask.

Okay so as usual what I haven't seen up top: Newsreaders, Hot Package, Decker (Though I have watched some of it's sister show on Cinema), King Star King The Jack and Triumph Show and Neon Joe. (Though I did WANT to see tha tone)

Tim and Eric's Bedtime Stories: I checked out an episode or two but coudln't get into it. I wasn't into horror at the time, so that didn't exactly help but even then it feels a bit too long for Tim and Eric's own good. Mr Pickles; Is garbage. I only saw bits but it was ugly , mean spirited and as someone already not a fan of the michigan j frog bit, I didn't want to see it done over an entire series.

Rick and Morty: WUBALUBADUBDUB. It's a hard choice but i'd go with mr meeseeks LOOK AT ME. Just such a good concept. As for the show itself, first off.. fuck Justin Roiland. It was a shame to find out someone this talented was such an asshole but fuck em. Unlike Dan Harmon he did not take responsiblity for his actions and become a better person after doing something incredibly shitty.

Now with that elephant out of the room I liked Rick and Morty at first... a high concept show that SEEMED like a status quo show, but wasn't, with fantastic animation, a great cast and lots of good ideas. But as the show went on... I started tuning out, eventually ending with season 4 part 1. I didn't like how the show stuck to it's status quo to it's detriment, or got creepier with Summer being thrown into sex stuff with grown men despite being stuck as a teenager, and the slut dragon episode. My attempt to come back ended when I ran into an episode where morty and summer had an incest baby they named Naruto and refuse to just.. render non canon.

The series also kinda disappeared up it's own ass with Vindicators 3 feeling like one long angry screed against marvel.. and while i've come to accept the mcu has issues and has DEIFNTELY degraded since, it felt less like a genuine parody and more like Dan Harmon yelling at a genre he didn't like. The show lost that spark and if it's regained it good for them. But I just can't go back. And the fact I can't go back to a show with Keith David as a guest star every season really says something.

Black Jesus: I liked this show and wish i't'd lasted longer. IT's a solid show with a fun premise of a man who may or may not be jesus hustling with his friends. Trailer Park Boys Meets Boondocks.. literally with the creators of both teaming up for a solid cult classic.

[self-confidenceinfluencer]

The Emperor's New Clothes Bedtime Story for Grown-ups

An emperor is swindled by two swindlers who came to town.  This classic story can help you to let go of the day’s worries as you get cozy in bed and watch the video of crackling fire and listen to the story and piano music. Like, comment, share and subscribe! Thank you!

[thecglcatalog]

Hear the Sweet Sound of a Well-Trained Little

Build a library of educational sounds for your baby slave to fine-tune training and conditioning.  These Mini-Records are color-coded, laser-labeled, and practically indestructible, and they fit right into our Baby Training Headset.  Records will auto-repeat for the duration set on the headset controls, whether that's a few minutes for naptime or several days in the nursery-dungeon!

Music Mini-Records

Femininity Enforcement.  A must for petticoat discipline!  Delicate covers of nursery rhymes like "Polly Put the Kettle On" and "Little Miss Muffet" join a playlist of girly classics like "I Feel Pretty."  18 tracks, 52 minutes.

Diaper Nursery Rhymes.  Help your slave remember the importance of Mommy and Daddy controlling bodily functions with these nursery rhymes updated to reflect full-time diapering.  Tracks include "The Diaper Bee Ditty", "Little Miss Crinkle", "Humpty Lumpty," and more!  10 tracks, 24 minutes.

Piano Lullabies. Soothing big-band ballads and old-time sleepy songs are rendered as gentle piano melodies.  From "The Connemara Cradle Song" to "Nights in White Satin," this versatile mix tells a slave that it's night-night time.  17 tracks, 68 minutes.

I Listen to Mama.  Cheerful tunes about obedience and submission to female caregivers.  12 tracks, 39 minutes.

I Listen to Papa.  Real sex slaves sing this happy little dozen about doing what their daddies, papas, uncles, and grandpas tell them to do.  12 tracks, 39 minutes.

Little One's Headspace Library.  Carefully selected for potential to get stuck in baby's head, these catchy tunes are covered by singers with unusual voices to maximize the torment of a long night in the headset.  From "Barbie Girl" and "Yellow Submarine" to "Baby Shark," "Wheels on the Bus," and the catchiest cartoon theme songs we could find, these shrill, repetitive, sing-song tunes remind baby that they must embrace their simple, childish tastes.  19 tracks, 84 minutes.

Story Time Mini-Records

Little Girls and Little Squirrels. Charming fables in which various woodland animals learn important lessons about wearing their diapers, behaving in the car seat, and letting caregivers wash everything in the bath.  41 minutes.

Potty Training Fairy Tales.  Classic fairy tales re-written to have accidents, pull-ups, and trips to the potty as plot points.  Each story has a different voice actor for a varied experience ideal for bedtime.  39 minutes.

The Very Scary Potty.  Spooky stories about bad things happening to babies who sit on the grown-up potty.  A narrator gives brief guided meditations after each story, helping induce "potty phobia" in diaper-resistant slaves.  58 minutes.

Exercise and Meditation Mini-Records

Baby's First Chair Dance.  An hour-long guided exercise routine asks slaves to perform diaper-displaying warm-up stretches before learning a series of aerobic exercises that double as erotic dance moves.  62 minutes.

Twerk and Twinkle.  A dancercise record for baby slaves, this exercise walkthrough teaches a routine that incorporates basic ballet, jazz, and striptease with instructions from a cheerful female dance teacher.  As a bonus, all movements can be performed in ankle cuffs.  30 minutes.

Baby Slut Exercise Time.  Peppy, upbeat guided aerobic routine emphasizes movements that baby can do on her back while getting her accustomed to being addressed as "slut," "fuck dolly," and "toy." 45 minutes.

Puppy Baby Meditation.  Professionally voiced mindfulness routine emphasizes the pleasures of tail-wagging, associates joyful feelings with instant obedience, instills pride in the experience of peeing and pooping outside, and creates a craving for praise.  84 minutes.

Kitty Baby Meditation.  A relaxation routine that normalizes the presence of belled collars and the litter box, while associating calm, happy feelings with presenting and being in heat.  91 minutes.

Doll Meditation.  Breathing and visualization routine invites slaves to conceptualize themselves as high-end toy dolls.  Seamless start/finish makes the record feel continuous to the listener, no matter how long you play it.  21 minutes.

Therapeutic Age Regression.  Methods developed by award-winning psychologists for exploring childhood memories are repurposed to help your slave drop into littlespace and stay there.  36 minutes.

[wellingtonwellsdaily]

Nighty Night!

Good evening, my lovely friends. It’s Uncle Jack here, ready to help you wind down after a wonderful day in Wellington Wells. Have you taken your Joy today? I do hope so. But even if you haven’t, don’t worry – because it’s time for Nighty Night, where we settle in with a cozy blanket, a warm cup of milk, and a lovely bedtime story to send you off to the land of dreams.

Tonight, I���ve chosen a classic tale that I’m sure you’ll enjoy. It’s the story of The Three Little Pigs. So, snuggle up, close your eyes, and let Uncle Jack take you on a journey.

Once upon a time, there were three little pigs who lived with their mother. One day, their mother said to them, ‘You are all grown up now. It’s time for you to go out into the world and build your own houses. But be careful, my little ones, for the world is full of dangers, and you must be wise to protect yourselves.’

The first little pig was very excited to go out on his own, but he was also a bit lazy. He found some straw in a nearby field and thought to himself, ‘This will do just fine! I’ll build my house quickly, and then I can spend the rest of the day playing!’ And so, the first little pig built his house out of straw, and it was done in no time at all.

The second little pig wasn’t quite as lazy as the first, but he did want to finish quickly so he could relax. He found some sticks in the forest and thought, ‘Sticks are stronger than straw. I’ll build my house out of these, and it will be sturdy enough!’ And so, the second little pig built his house out of sticks. It took a bit longer than the first, but soon he was finished and ready to enjoy his new home.

The third little pig was the wisest of the three. He knew that there were dangers in the world, and he wanted to make sure his house would keep him safe. So, he found some bricks and mortar and began to build his house. It was hard work, and it took him a long time, but he didn’t mind. He wanted his house to be strong and secure.

Soon enough, the three little pigs had built their houses and were living happily in their new homes. But one day, the big bad wolf came to the first little pig’s house of straw. The wolf was very hungry and wanted to eat the little pig for dinner. So, he knocked on the door and said, ‘Little pig, little pig, let me come in!’

But the little pig was clever, and he replied, ‘Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin!’

The wolf wasn’t going to give up that easily. He huffed, and he puffed, and he blew the straw house down! The first little pig squealed in fright and ran as fast as he could to his brother’s house of sticks.

The wolf followed, and when he reached the second little pig’s house, he knocked on the door and said, ‘Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in!’

But the little pigs were determined, and they shouted, ‘Not by the hair on our chinny chin chins!’

The wolf, now even more determined, huffed, and he puffed, and he blew the stick house down! The two little pigs squealed in terror and ran as fast as they could to their brother’s house of bricks.

The wolf, now very hungry and very angry, followed them to the third little pig’s house. He knocked on the door and said, ‘Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in!’

But the three little pigs replied in unison, ‘Not by the hair on our chinny chin chins!’

The wolf huffed, and he puffed, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t blow the brick house down. The house was too strong, too well-built. The wolf, realizing he was defeated, slunk away into the forest, never to be seen again.

The three little pigs were safe, all thanks to the wisdom and hard work of the third little pig. They lived happily ever after in their strong, sturdy brick house, and they never had to worry about the big bad wolf again.

And so, my dear listeners, the moral of the story is this: Hard work and preparation always pay off in the end. It’s important to take the time to build something strong and lasting, whether it’s a house, a friendship, or even your own happiness.

But, I'm afraid we've come to the end of our time. Now, it’s time to close your eyes and drift off to sleep, knowing that you’re safe and sound, just like the three little pigs in their brick house. Sweet dreams, dear friends, and remember: happiness is a choice. Choose Joy! This is Uncle Jack, wishing you a very good night. Nighty night, Wellington Wells!

[readitreviewit]

Dragons LOVE Farts: A Review of the Funniest Fart Book for Kids Looking for a book that will make your kids LOL? Look no further than Dragons LOVE Farts, the hilarious and delightfully stinky book that's perfect for any young reader. From the colorful and dynamic scenes featuring silly dragons in even sillier situations, to the detailed illustrations that will have even the poutiest youngster giggling with glee, this book is a Fart-O-Rama for the whole family. And while fart jokes may seem like lowbrow humor, Dragons LOVE Farts takes it to the next level by cleverly weaving in historical places and events, classic literary works, and nods to fables and nursery rhymes. Who knew farts could open the door to so much worldly knowledge? But don't worry, as much as this book is educational, it's also just plain fun. From a cheese-loving dragon trying to blend in among a pasture of flatulent dairy cows, to a pirate adventure gone awry thanks to a well-timed fart, the dragons in this book will amuse your kids right into a little dose of worldly wisdom. And it's not just for kids either. Dad jokes, gag gifts, you name it – there's simply no end to the usefulness of this hilarious book. Plus, the last page even ends like a bedtime story, making it the perfect bribe for a quick and easy bedtime routine. With lively illustrations, clever humor, and plenty of fart jokes to spare, Dragons LOVE Farts is the perfect book for any young reader looking for a good laugh – and let's be honest, probably some grown-ups too. So why not give it a try and see if those dragons can make you ROFL too? Don't wait any longer to dive into this incredible story! Buy the book now or get a 30-day trial of Audible and lose yourself in the captivating world of this must-read tale. Don't miss out! Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details)

[ear-worthy]

STEM Toy Company & Wondery Announce Collaboration Due To Wow in the World Podcast

Podcasts have engendered TV show, movies, and other podcasts. But now, podcasts have launched toys? Could we see Roman Mars, Ira Glass, or Malcolm Gladwell dolls?

Maybe in the future, but right now, podcast studio Wondery (owned by Amazon), and award-winning makers of premium STEM toys, Thames & Kosmos, have announced a first-of-its-kind collaboration. The companies will debut an all-new line of STEM toys and science kits inspired by the #1 science podcast for kids and their grown-ups, Wow in the World. Launching at retail in Fall 2024, the Wondery Kids Wow in the World toy line is designed by Thames & Kosmos and combines classic science learning toys and engaging audio content to offer kids and families a brand-new way to play. The toy line further builds on Wondery’s stated vision, giving fans new ways to engage with their favorite podcast shows.

Developed for kids ages 4+ (those who love science, and even those who think they don’t!) and their grown-ups, the Wondery Kids Wow in the World toy line invites kids to tap into their curiosity and connect to the world around them. 

Ranging in price from $14.95 to $29.95, the toy line offers a strong value proposition with incredibly well-made products designed for replayability. Launching with the release of seven unique products—from a timeless volcano experiment kit with a twist to a high-flying air rocket that has a delightfully surprising “WOW!” factor—each toy incorporates durable, high-quality materials and open-ended play patterns and includes a classic science tool that can be used beyond the scope of the toy itself. 

Each toy also features exclusive companion audio content from Wow in the World hosts Guy Raz and Mindy Thomas, and a complimentary 3-month subscription to Wondery+ for grown-ups to explore Wondery’s full catalogue. Available Fall 2024, the toy line will introduce kids to a range of STEM subjects including physics, geology, biology, and the natural world. 

Created by Tinkercast and hosted by podcast influencers and New York Times-bestselling children’s book authors Guy Raz and Mindy Thomas, Wow in the World is a beloved part of family routines everywhere, and is forging ahead as the first kids and family podcast to deliver a full 360° lifestyle franchise. 

The toy line joins a New York Times-bestselling book series published by HarperCollins, a sold-out live tour that meets fans across the country, and TinkerClass, the first-of-its-kind “podject” (podcasts & projects)-based learning that invites students in grades K-5 to listen, wonder, tinker and make. Additional Consumer Product partners will be announced in the coming months. 

 Nicole Blake, Head of Franchise Development, Wondery, said, “Podcasts are the perfect complement to families’ existing routines, whether it’s their daily school commute, bedtime, and even playtime. As the leading innovators in STEM toys, Thames & Kosmos was the ideal partner to level up playtime by bringing together premium audio content with physical toys for the first time to offer a truly unique play experience.

“As a toy company rooted in sparking curiosity, imagination, and a genuine love of learning, we are thrilled to work with Wondery to develop a toy line based on Wow in the World,” said Andrew Quartin, CEO, Thames & Kosmos.

Ted McGuire, President, Thames & Kosmos, added, “At Thames & Kosmos, we pride ourselves on pushing the boundaries of STEM learning through play and wanted to take this opportunity to level up classic products and play patterns in a whole new way with toys that kids will learn something new from every time they play with them. We really feel like we’ve achieved that with these new products and can’t wait for kids’ reactions this Fall.” 

 Wondery says: "Listen every Monday as Guy Raz and Mindy Thomas share stories about the latest news in science, technology, and innovation that tickle our funny bones and make us all say "WOW"!

[openstorygames]

TTRPGs as Literature

So a long time ago, there was a guy named Horace. And he had this idea about literature. (Actually, he had a bunch of ideas, but we'll just focus on this one.) He said that literature should "instruct and delight," and people kinda liked that.

Stuffy literature professors like it, but they lean on the instruct side. Pulp fiction authors think it's great, and they stick to the delight side.

We need both sides. But lasting literature, the stories that stick with us, do both. They teach us something about the world or about ourselves, and they do so while drawing us in as connected and compassionate people.

That doesn't mean good literature always has happy endings!

One of my favorite plays is Marlowe's Doctor Faustus, which has a horrifying ending. But it resonated in ways that have impacted my writing and reading ever since I saw it performed.

Good literature connects us. It draws us in, both mind and soul. It engages our thoughts and tugs on our feelings. Good literature requires our whole selves to encounter other (constructed) selves through narrative.

We typically think of literature as falling into certain genres: poetry, plays, novels, film, etc. And if you're sitting in a college lit class, you might start to believe that those are all the genres you'll ever find.

But literature is so much more.

Heck, only a few hundred years ago, the novel was still in early days. Novels were considered unserious and pejoratively feminine. They were not, in the literary eye, important or lasting.

Yet some of the novels from that early era are considered classics now. They're not always interesting or exciting; Moll Flanders literally contains mundane shopping lists. But they are doing interesting things with story and literature. Jude the Obscure would never have sold in an earlier climate; who wants to read about someone whose epithet is actually "obscure"?

Video games are another revolution in literature. Feature-length commercials, like the Barbie movie or The Lego Movie are another. Think about how many people are talking about Barbie still! And having deep, important conversations that engage their thoughts and feelings because of a movie about a plastic doll.

Similarly, games—particularly TTRPGs—serve as an innovation in literature. It's not even that TTRPGs are new (though in the history of literature, they are).

TTRPGs actually return us to the old way of things.

Oral tradition is the oldest form of literature that humanity has. Before we wrote things down, we told each other stories. From Homer to childhood bedtime stories, the practice of speaking story into other lives has been how we've communicated values, shared beliefs, connected with others, and grown communities.

Stories were told again and again, containing the same root but a million variations. They grew into mythic figures and wild adventures, some of which contradicted each other. But they were the stories that grounded and connected whole peoples.

TTRPGs give us the chance to do that again.

When a GM picks up an adventure book, they have the root of the story. They are the bard, the guide, the soothsayer, who leads the others into the realm of story.

But unlike the ancient bards, who told the story in their own way, over and over again, a GM gives the story over to their audience, who becomes co-authors with the GM.

The root of the story is there, but TTRPGs are an experience of telling the story together. In doing so, we get the most delightful and instructive form of literature. It's interactive!

We make choices that sound like the most fun story to play out. We dig our fingers into the soil of creativity and root around, feeling how the earth inspires our decisions.

We learn how to be more complete people, more connected people, as we try things out and discover how those things make other players (and other characters!) feel.

If you've ever played a TTRPG with a child or teen, you know that they push boundaries adults might not. They tell the story they want. Adults do this too, but kids and teens are still learning. But starting the collaboration young helps attune these kids' hearts and minds to the people around them. They learn that they are not alone in their story.

We are not alone in our story.

And if that isn't the most important lesson that literature can teach, I'm not sure what is.