#gateway to embarassing myself

[coulthardie]

I really want to make more tumblr moots, so reblog with your faves please. Or reblog if we have the same faves!

[worldchampionpeccobagnaia]

By what logic makes learning a new language culturally insensitive??

bestie i WISH i knew, it makes absolutely no sense :’)))

[pikkori]

bipolar/psychosis talk ///

I was dealing with high functioning psychosis earlier this year and the gateway to it was astrology and tiktok. since that experience, i can no longer allow myself into spiritual spaces because 9 times out of 10, i will fall into the rabbit hole and find a community where they are also exhibiting symptoms of psychosis through a feedback loop. I ended up getting lured into cult-like thinking by the end of it.

spiritualism and bipolar are probably one of the riskiest combinations. Sure, choose whatever belief system makes you comfortable, its none of my business, but bipolar individuals should tread carefully online when it comes to spiritualism. I was nothing like this before I got exposed to online astrology spaces. You may be the most rational least gullible person on earth, but mania is not immune to it. I've been having psychotic symptoms since I was a child. But when I hit my mid 20s, my grip got weaker and weaker. I am fully lucid now, but I don't believe in astrology or occult any longer. And if you knew me personally during that phase, and were concerned, I am sorry for that. I am still extremely embarassed by it. Examples to be careful with if you are susceptible: Numerology, Affirmations, Mantras, Manifestation, the universe is a simulation, Shifting etc etc those are quick fucking gateways into losing your ground, so please please be careful if you feel these may apply to you.

[emjee]

MG has read...a lot of TOG fanfic this autumn: a rec list

Hey y’all, @morallygreywaren asked if I’ve done a fic rec list yet, and I think I’ve done bits and pieces but not a full list. Fortunately, I just put one together for a friend who watched the film for the first time on Sunday, so I’ve got something close at hand! I’m keeping the category divisions I used for my friend, because I like them. I’m gonna star the E rated stuff for your avoidance/exact opposite of avoidance needs. Off we go!

Joe and Nicky (historical)

Ars Poetica by superblackmarket. Actually read everything by superblackmarket, they’re amazing. (*)

The Other Matter by survivah. Sometimes I lie awake at night staring at the ceiling thinking about this fic. If you like your Joe/Nicky get-together stories with a tall glass of pining/idiots to lovers, run don’t walk.

Salt and Harvest by @hollybennett123. Joe and Nicky + bread through the ages. Literally what more could you want.

for all hearts torn by stonecarved (figure8) (@lgbtmazight on tumblr). Joe and Nicky + pilgrimage. Len is one of the greatest gifts this fandom has.

The Gold of Your Body by @azephirin. This contains the tag “Catholicism as a gateway drug to BDSM” and it is. Incredible. (*)

The Subtle Approach by survivah. The great thing about this fandom is that your Regency AU doesn’t actually need to be an AU.

The Profession of my Fingers by mellyflori (@werebearbearbar on tumblr). 5+1, Nicky’s Hands In Joe’s Curls Throughout The Centuries (*)

Joe and Nicky (modern)

My heart as green as weeds by KatStratford (@katrinastratford on tumblr). In which they have to peace out to Scandinavia for Lying Low purposes and Joe Does Not Vibe with how cold it is. It’s a huge quarantine mood. (*)

While we’re young by hyb (@h-yb on tumblr). *pinches bridge of nose* listen they are IN LOVE

Stop, listen, feel, believe by Tam_Cranver. This is my favorite fic set almost immediately post-film. Hot as hell. Emotional intelligence off the FUCKING charts. (*)

Joe and Nicky + Nile + being immortal family

Three Immortals and a Puppy Walk Into a Bar by survivah. What it says on the tin, a fucking delight

A nice story and The art of remembrance by @sixth-light. Joe, Nicky, Nile, and discussions of war crimes.

Straight up Joe/Nicky smut, you are WELCOME (these are all E)

Taking instruction by @sixth-light. feat. light dom/sub, in a really sweet way.

Literally everything @bakedapplesauce has ever written, special shoutouts to:

The present is nothing but an interruption of the past 

Hora somni

There is no “I” in “team” (but there is one in “vibrator”) 

You want some Joe/Nicky AUs? I got you

Explaining is Losing by @sixth-light. Academic nemeses to lovers. I have read this fic an EMBARASSING number of times.

Good Enough to be True by @sixth-light. Modern AU, super soft fluff/healing where Joe’s gotten out of a terrible relationship and Nicky’s the first guy he’s dated since

sine qua non by mellyflori (@werebearbearbar). Modern AU friends to lovers with all the trimmings. (*)

Extremely niche genre of Nicky Bitches About The New English Mass Translation:

third for a word and the song keeps going by Macremae

INAIED gets its own heading

If Never Again, If Every Day by @gallifreyburning and @takiki16 is the light of my Thursdays. 2021 Nicky ends up back in 1099, 1099 Nicolo ends up in 2021, we all lose our minds over the emotions that ensue. Someone once described the 1099 plot of this fic as “Yusuf: I truly hate this and I’m annoyed that killing you doesn’t work. Nicky: You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.” I think about that description every fucking day.

Book of Nile (I know one of the rules of this ship is that you have to say you hate it here and were forced to ship it against your will but LISTEN these fics are so good that I can’t bring myself to hate it here at all)

The Last Man on Earth by survivah. Five times Booker and Nile find themselves in a romance novel trope. Delicious.

son rêve d’opaline by stonecarved (figure8) (@lgbtmazight​). Sleepy. Sexy. I’m obsessed. (*)

everywhere on earth you go (you’re gonna have me)  by nondz (pinkjook). There is a swing dancing scene in this one that I lost my fucking mind over. (*)

This is by no means comprehensive, and I encourage you to check out all the fics of all the authors mentioned here. I’m having a great time reading in this fandom.

[psykeres]

realtor

'Okay, so, thanks again for having this call with me, Mister Eaton,' I said to the laptop pushed back on the papers on my desk, trying gamely to make eye contact with the unblinking camera lens. 'I'm glad you decided to work with us to find your new home. House-hunting in the Pandemic is wild, right?'

I was speaking to my own image pantomiming me in the call's video window, the only evidence that I wasn't talking to myself a bright red letter E in the list of participants. Chris Eaton, I rehearsed silently, single, mid thirties, and currently having camera issues. Maybe not so technically inclined - we could deprioritize IT infrastructure.

The voice coming back through my headset was bright and friendly enough, like he was trying to put me at ease. 'You're right about that,' my newest customer opined, 'Nobody is holding open houses anymore and I don't see the point in just driving around neighborhoods window-shopping. Besides, I gotta tell you the last year has really changed my priorities for the new place... with everything, you know?' Nothing to do with that  but smile and nod understandingly, like I knew exactly what he was talking about.

'I know exactly what you mean, Chris!' Time to build some rapport and get the process rolling. 'A lot has changed all right. So what are you interested in looking for now?'

'Well, I'm sick and tired of HOAs and, you know, neighbors all over the place. I've been thinking a lot about getting out of suburbia and maybe finding somewhere with a little more space, where nobody minds if I don't mow the lawn for a little while. Maybe back in the woods a little bit.'

I was already reviewing listings in a few more rural parts of the county, glancing sidelong at the second monitor plugged into my laptop's matte black dock. He is a cottagecore sort of guy, I thought with what I hoped was a healthy level of smugness. Easy. And then Eaton through the earbuds, reminding me I'd forgotten to fill the silence with some apt bit of script: 'Also, there was one other thing I was hoping for. I understand it might be hard to find, but I'd like a property with a well.'

'The good news is that might not be so rare, Chris! On a lot of the more rustic properties I'd like to show you, well water is all you'll find. Worried about the taste of city water?' This came out more or less automatically, so I found myself unprepared for the follow-up.

'No no,' Eaton interjected hastily, firmly. 'I mean that's fine of course, I grew up drinking well water. But I mean I want a well. Stone circle, hole in the middle, water at the bottom. You know. The deeper the better.'

You fucking what? I didn't have a response for this, or it wasn't coming quickly. I guess I've been having it too easy at work lately, 2021 needs to make it interesting. 'O-okay, I get it.' You don't get it, fine. Make this normal so he doesn't get embarassed. 'That sounds really picturesque, doesn't it? But you should know the State usually requires landowners to decommission those old ones or seal them up. They're a hazard.' Please don't make me call forty owners asking about obsolete holes they won't admit to having.

Eaton's voice swelling in my ears again, now in a rolling cadence he hadn't used before. It was like he was performing. 'Don't worry, Kelly, I've looked into it a little bit. And the State only requires that for abandoned ones. The one I need, uh, it won't be. And I'm totally fine buying a property as-is, right? So they don't need to worry about fixing it.'

Fine. Get him onboard and he'll like one of these places, well or no well. I hoped I hadn't made a face while he was talking, there was no way he'd miss it with the laptop's eye on me. 'Sure thing, that will definitely help. Let's have another call this week after I line up a few places to view. Is there anything else I should keep my eyes open for?'

'I think you've got it, Kelly. Just a place on some acreage, with some trees and a well. The deeper the better, remember!' He said it lightly, no big deal, but I could hear some weight behind the words. God, he was serious. If only there was a bar for realtors somewhere maybe I could tell this later like some kind of war story. Instead it was just going to be stupid and awful. But Eaton was saying something else, so low I'd almost missed it. 

'Deep enough for her to hear me...'

'What's that, Chris?’

'Never mind. I was just talking to myself,' came back the brusque reply.

Fuck that. I decided I had missed it, and if I hadn't I still wasn't a therapist. Eaton could talk to himself in greater comfort offline, and I needed to get some coffee and get to work, in that order. We said our goodbyes and agreed to talk again on Friday. I undocked my laptop and stuffed it in its bag, snatched my off its spot on the desk and worked the strings over my ears. The bright blue and maroon logo proclaiming "Your Gateway to Arkham!" I left facing in; I wasn't on the job yet.

At the door I stop to check pockets for my full panoply: wallet, keys, phone. The hated but comforting bulk of a pack of cigarettes and its attendant lighter. I turn the key, I turn toward the drive, I think:

The deeper the better. Why was that? Better, maybe, not to know.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Twenty-Eight

Table of Content or Part Twenty-Seven

Pairing: Douglas Booth!Nikki Sixx x OC

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning(s): Language, Hints at drug abuse

Tag List: @unknownoblivion @sinningsixx @edwardtriggerhandzz @lemmyjelly @haileynicoleseavey17 @cierrasixx19 @oskea93 @mgkobsessed @vamprlestat @sharon6713 @itsametaphorbriansblog @miriampraez @allie-mcginn @rebeccaphillips14 @nicholeh7 @fandomshit6000 @lilmou5ie @tamedhearts @divaanya @kingbouji3 @evrsncnewyork @6ixx6ixx @ratedrkohardychick91 @floregrohlssard @oldschoolimagineblog @thanks2pete @abaldboi @swoopygorl @justjodeye @liith-ium @caos18blog @ytwahsog @shamlessobsessions @scarecrowmax @toadspleen @random-internet-user-4471 @solohqrry @loveofmyloif @sparxx27 @kaitieskidmore1 @xpoisonousrosesx @ijustwanttokiss70srogertaylor

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

-------------------------------------------------------

Once we get on the road, I glance over at Nikki before reaching for his free hand, lacing my fingers through his.

I notice him side eye me before smirking to himself.

We park a block down from the Rainbow and when I get out, I regret not wearing pants.

It's not freezing by any means, but it's in the mid 60s with a little wind blowing.

A small shiver runs through me, and Nikki's locking the car and sliding his jacket off, handing it to me.

"Thank you." I say to him, putting it on and thanking God he creates as much body heat as he does because it's like a portable heater.

"Mmhmm." He replies. "I don't know why you didn't bring your jacket."

"It wouldn't have looked good with this." I state in terms of my outfit.

"You can wear anything and still look good." He tells me flatly as if it's common sense and I rub my red lips together and hook my hand around his arm.

We get into the Rainbow and step to our booth, Vince, Tommy and Mick already laughing their asses off over something, and when we get to them Tommy's practically shoving his tongue down Nikki's throat.

"Sixxter!" He tipsily exclaims, putting his arm over Nikki's shoulders and kissing his cheek. "Fuckin' missed you, man." He tells him and Nikki chuckles as I slide in beside him, taking his jacket off of me.

There's lingering groupies as always, although there's more of them now than before the guys had a decent amount of fame.

I feel skin rub against my leg, which confirms there's a girl under the table giving someone a blow job and I roll my eyes.

Nikki orders a beer, I get a Pepsi, and a brunette groupie that's got her eyes on Nikki gets a high dose of audacity and utilizes it.

"Can I have a sip of that?" She asks Nikki when he gets his beer and I raise my brows, turning to glare at her, and then him, when he looks me in the eye, smirks, and hands her the beer.

The guys are completely silent, studying me to gauge my reaction and I roll my jaw.

"Down Kitty." Vince jokes as the girl hands Nikki's bottle back, making sure to make a show of wiping the drop of beer left on her bottom lip with her manicured fingers, not looking away from him.

"Thanks." She says, glancing at me as if to brag, and I ignore her and look straight ahead, not giving her the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of me...I'll handle Devil Spawn when we get home.

I just get up, mumbling that I'm going to the bathroom.

"Baby, c'mon, it was a joke." Nikki chuckles out.

"Lick my clit." I snap at him, not giving him a second glance before stepping to the bathroom, hearing Vince and Tommy "Ohh" and "Damn" at my harsh response to him.

I get in the bathroom, tears lining my eyes, and see a mass of fluffy blonde hair standing at the mirror beside the one I end up standing in front of.

First glance, I think it's a woman...Second glance, maybe?

I take a third look, realizing it's a man touching up his foundation and I mind my own business and stop my mascara from running by grabbing a paper towel out of the dispenser quick enough to catch the pair of tears trying to leak out of my eyes.

Something falls into the sink infront of me and I furrow my brows and look down, seeing a tube of mascara.

I look at the only one that it could belong to and pick the tube back up, handing it out to him.

"You can use some when you get done crying your's off." He tells me calmly, his accent a dead give away that he's certainly not from around here, continuing to touch up his own makeup.

I go to argue but he cuts me short.

"It's mascara, not a used needle."

He's got a point and I can't help but smile a little at his response, continuing to dab at my eyes with the papertowel, drying my tears.

"I have to use the girl's room because I get in to fights any time a guy walks in and I'm putting on makeup." He explains to me. "I don't like being called a 'fag'."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me." I assure him, throwing the paper towel away. "And if being a 'fag' means you wear more makeup than most women but still have chicks throwing themselves at you, then so be it."

I reapply my mascara and hand it back to him, saying an appreciative "thanks" just as the bathroom door bursts open.

"Babe, c'mon, you gotta come meet this dude, you're gonna fuckin' freak." Nikki tells me, his hand wrapping around my wrist.

"What? Who?" I furrow my brows.

"Razzle."

"Who's that-"

"Hanoi Rocks' drummer?" He reminds me. "They're touring here and we just met him, like, right after you left and..." Nikki trails off, noticing the blonde dude in the bathroom with us.

"By all means, go on." He nods to Nikki with a proud smile on his face that completely frames his high cheek bones and wide, blue eyes.

I found out in that moment I had shared eyelash germs with the one and only Michael Monroe, lead singer of Hanoi Rocks.

I'd heard their music through Nikki and  Tommy, and Duff really dug them, too.

I remember thinking Mike was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Like Axl Rose, he looked like a really gorgeous woman at certain angles, and I hated them for it because they really didn't know how freaking flawless they looked.

Michael didn't just have an abnormally beautiful exterior, his spirit, heart, and soul, were just as phenomenal and that made a lasting impact on me so much so that I named one of my children after him.

I discovered the kind of person he was in December of 1984 when tradgedy struck Hanoi Rocks and Mötley Crüe and he and his bandmate Andy McCoy stayed with me and Nikki for a little bit.

I'll get into all that soon.

I step out of the bathroom after Nikki and Michael talk a bit and exchange numbers, and Nikki guides me to our table and I hear a thick british accent before I can see Razzle that well.

He's got on a top hat with a red scarf tied around it, his sunglasses resting on the rim of it, a polkadotted tie is around his neck and he's wearing a dark red velvet overcoat.

His eyes are lined with black liner and he's showing off a mouthful of teeth with his contagious smile.

"Razz, man, this is Viv." Nikki introduces me.

"This your missus?" He asks him in disbelief, and I don't know if it's a good thing or bad thing he's asking it that way. "Oh, she's beautiful, Nikki...what the bloody hell is she doin' with you?" He chuckles at his own joke and the guys join in while Nikki laughs it off with them.

"Nah, the real star is Tansy." Vince informs him as Nikki and I sit down.

"Who?" Razzle asks and Vince and Tommy look completely offended before Vince is pulling his wallet out and grabbing a piece of paper out of it.

Once he unfolds it, it's an entire page torn out of an issue of Playboy, and I'm assuming Tansy is somewhere on it because he points to something to show Razzle and the drummer's mouth drops open and his eyes get wide.

"I definitely want to meet her." He comments and I reach across the table and snatch the paper from Vince and crumple it up.

"Viv!" He whines at me, trying to reach for it over the table and I shove it in my bra and raise my brows at him. "That just makes me wanna get it even more." He informs me.

"If you want me to castrate you with my nails, you'll reach down my shirt." I promise and him, Nikki, Tommy, Mick, and Razzle wince at the thought.

"That's fine. I'll get all I want when our girl's December issue comes out." Vince smirks, winking at me and I roll my eyes.

"Swine." I insult him.

"Prude." He shoots back before his face gets suddenly really smug as if he remembers something. "Actually..." He fumbles with his wallet again before pulling out a polaroid. "...I suppose I should stop calling you that."

He waves it, Razzle and Mick looking over his shoulder at it.

"Woah." Razzle mumbles.

"Don't be a fucking dick, Vince." Mick scolds him as Vince turns the picture for me to see.

It's me, wearing nothing but a pair of heels, on our mattress at home with my legs spread wide open, touching myself with my back arched, eyes closed, and lips parted in ecstasy.

I feel Nikki tense up beside me as embarassment and humiliation floods through me.

My face is burning red and I'm rendered speechless, glaring at Nikki, who's snatching it away from Vince.

"Where the fuck did you get this?!" He barks at him.

"The fuck are you talking about, Nikki, you fucking gave it to me." Vince argues.

"When?!"

"You were fucked up and gave one to me and one to Robbin." He adds and I snap my attention to my husband.

"You were just passing out our pictures?! What's next, making copies of our tape and tossing them into the audience at shows?!"

"You have a sex tape?!" Tommy suddenly pipes but it goes unacknowledged.

"Fucking bullshit, I've never been that fucked up where I'd willingly give you pictures of her like this!" Nikki throws at Vince.

Vince looks at him pointedly, his index finger hitting over the vein in the crook of his arm as if it were a needle and Nikki realizes he did indeed give him the picture, he just doesn't remember, because he was stoned out of his mind on smack.

If Razzle wouldn't have been Razzle, we would've scared him away and he never would've wanted to hangout with us again.

But he kept quiet and never once brought it up.

It's safe to say the Sixxes leave notorious first impressions.

[vanya-imyarek]

Finally, I had done it. It had taken so many years of research, of trial and error, of people believing I would never have succeeded - but finally, I had developed the perfect book.

The Tale of Tales was in ebook format, an extremely sophisticated software which detected multiple parametres like the downloader's current bookshop, research history, social media profiles, time dedicated to reading - to elaborate on their literary tastes and alter the story to fit them, producing the perfect book to everyone's tastes.

The success was immediate and clamorous. Everyone wanted to read the perfect book for them. I became famous overnight, a contended star of talk shows and conventions. From an indebted student, I was suddenly rich beyond my wildest dream. I received thousands of fan mail every day, people who thanked me for giving them the perfect story, the story which would comfort them, exalt them and move them with no flaws or drawbacks. It was as if I was living in a dream, everything I ever wanted granted after all of my struggles. I felt at the top of the world.

Of course, I got criticism. Some were expected - crazy theorist believing my book was the gateway to New World Order brainwashing, bigots believing it was the product of Satanic magic, critics scorned that they had nothing to criticize - but some weren't. Some came from one of my dearest friends, someone I thought would always have my back. They said The Tale of Tales was unethical, of all things. Unethical! As if I hadn't just found a way to create the perfect artwork, the one which would have left everyone happy! What was there, to worry about philosophy?

It was only after several months that I felt the curiosity to check the fandom for my book. I was aware that there was one, every story with a certain popularity had an online fandom, but before I had felt almost embarassed to check it. But now, I really wanted to know: what was the fandom for a book that changed for everyone like?

Initially, I found only good things. People posting screenshots of what The Tale of Tales was like for them, other people commenting and making comparisons with their own. Everyone seemed to have fun, and again, I felt so, so happy of having been able to create such a thing, that would have spread nothing but happiness.

But after some time, I found the first ship wars. Now, I know fandom online couldn't be exclusively positive places, but I had hoped ... here the issue wasn't what ship was validated by canon and which not, because every copy of the book validated the ship the reader wanted to see realized. The issue was that, appearently, some people took offense that someone had a personal canon completely different from their own. Some of the screenshots with romantic scenes, along with a good number of positive comments, had a few negative ones, criticizing the reader for wanting such a ship. I even found a few callout post, detailing why people whose book canon validated Ship So-and-So were stupid or bad. I was taken aback - so much for creating something that would have made everyone happy - but I calmed myself down. These negative comments and posts were a minority. I couldn't expect for everyone to be good, after all; the majority of people were nice and only wanting to have fun. I had nothing to worry about.

Then some people, an increasing number of people, began mocking others for the genre their version of The Tale of Tales was. Of course, the genre was to change according to the tastes of the reader, but some took issue with the favorite genres of other people. There were a few snobs for which the book became a masterpiece of classical literature mocking people for whom it became fantasy of sci-fi; but there seemed to be an online witch hunt for those for whom it became YA or paranormal romance, accused to be 'vapid teenage chicks'.

Teenager girls began having a bit of an hard time online: accusing their version of The Tale of Tales to be a paranormal romance became a standard way to insult them, some online places began requiring them to post screenshots of their version to prove it wasn't a YA but 'serious stuff' to admit them, some started willingly posting the screenshots to prove that they weren't 'like all other girls'. I even found a few posts and videos with girls tearfully talking about the cyberbulling they were subjected for having posted of their paranomal romance version of the book.

That was, of course, for the girls. If a YA or paranormal romance was found in the hands of a teenage boy, the mediatic guillotine was guaranteed.

At this point I began feeling a little on edge, but still, it wasn't my fault. If people I had never met thought it was right to harass people for having different tastes, that wasn't my responsibility. I talked a little of this in the next video interview I made, to make clear I didn't approve of this behaviour. These declaration were largely ignored by the cyberbullies, but provided some comfort to the bullied kids.

Then the book ended up in the hands of politicians.

They began quoting it left and right - literally. I saw The Tale of Tales held up for things ... horrible things abou immigrants and the queer communities and the healthcare and work systems, horrible things I would never had said, but I saw quoted right from the book for which I had chosen the title ... of course, there were people who lifted encouraging and progressive messages from it, but still, it was the first time I began to seriously reconsider what I had done. I refused responsibility for the quotes by the most extremist parties, reminding everyone that the book shifted according to the tastes of whoever read it, but it backfired. The politicians began using it, and its contents, as proof of the convinction they had in their beliefs (people should have voted such stalwart people). And that's where things began going downhill.

By now people had starting recognizing The Tale of Tales as a tool to find 'good people'. The next step was seeing it as a tool to find 'bad people', too.

What struck me was the double face of the process, online and in real life. Online, it was a rush for wokeness: people whose version of the book had contents considered sexist or racist or queerphobic, be it for genuine bigotry or simple ignorance about sensitive subjects, were immediately blacklisted and harassed online - often to the ironic result of radicalizing them even more. If this had at least some basis of morality, the situation quickly degenerated: the naming-and-shaming began targeting people whose version had dark contents, like scenes of violence or abuse or rape, no matter if they were presented in a critical light, people always questioned why they were there in the first place. And let's not talk about people whose book contanied age-gap romance.

In the real world, while the moral panic against people whose version of the book had dark subject remained, the table on minorities turned entirely. Several stories began popping out, about teenagers forced to read The Tale of Tales by their parents: if they found it with queer themes, especially if positively presented, the kids were assumed to be queer themselves, and several ended up in conversion therapy or thrown out of home. An increasing number of schools began assigning my book as an obligatory read, and the students had to send their version to the teacher; the result went anywhere from the parents being informed of the presence of 'disturbing' or queer themes to the versions 'unofficially' influencing the grades the teacher would have given in future assessments, as if it was a demonstration of the personality of the student.

Things kept escalating. The Tale of Tales began an item in job interviews - sometimes provided by the reader themselves as proof of their ideal moral character, but most times ordered by bosses to detect any hint of inclination to a different job, inclination to 'excessive' family time, suspicious desire for better healthcare conditions or respect for mental illnesses, and once again, queerness. And then it began being used in police investigations.

I lost copyright after this. The rationale was that since the book basically wrote itself, I had no right getting money from it; my old interviews from the time politicians had started using it were particularly useful against me in this. I lost what was my main source of income, and had to find another job to live; irony of fate, I was given my own book to read as part of the job interview.

Where was I? Ah yes, the police. Whenever a case was difficult, they began ordering the suspects to read The Tale of Tales to detect hints of guilt or a 'suspicious' mindset. The efforts of genuine psychologists and psychiatrists to explain that literary preferences meant nothing in most cases, and that such a tool was not a reliable measure of mental illness let alone actual involment in a crime, went mostly unheard; not when less scrupolous 'professionals' began popping out claiming they could use the book for a perfect profiling, not when the police found out criticism against them in the suspects' versions. Once again, as predictable, minorities got the short end of the stick, their books the most liable to be declared as 'containing proof of guilt'.

My book was no longer a book, by that point. Almost nobody bought it to have the perfect story: it was a tool, it was an instrument people were judged by, and people hated it. Associations for human rights denounced The Tale of Tales as unethical, just as my friend had done so long ago; actual associations rose specifically against it, to have it banned. It was probably the first time in history so many common people advocated for a book banning, while those in positions of power defended it as one of their best tools.

The debate went on for years, and I followed it religiously, even if I now worked as a waiter and no longer had anything to do with it. My connection to it was actually best not advertised. Ultimately, after a long fight which involved every possible king of intellectual saying that the book was useless as a valutation item and countless people unable to find jobs or abandoned by their families or unjustly ended up in jail, a bill was passed that definitely banned The Tale of Tales. The file codes were deleted, the copies destroyed: its particular nature, the fact it didn't tell anything in itself and every copy told a different and mostly innocuous story, made it useless even as a historical document.

Every trace of the existence of my perfect book was cancelled.

"Well, it just doesn't seem…ethical." Your friend slowly says to you. "Ethical?" You yell back at him. "Who cares about morals when I have created a masterpiece! A book that learns what the reader likes and changes its script accordingly. Imagine that, the perfect book!"

[goodadultsdont]

Good adults know how to hold their liquour

I know most of us feel guilty after a weekend of heavy drinking and partying. I also know that today, with all my monday blues, I’ve been very seriously considering giving up drinking for good. It’s not about how hungover I might be but about the effect alcohol is starting to have in my life. I’ve been drinking since I was 16. I’ll be turning 27 in a few days. 

My parents would be absolutely terrified to hear this from me, but where I grew up, teenage drinking is completely normal. Those who don’t drink are the odd ones out. Furthermore, the every weekend plan is to go out to bars or clubs and get trashed. The only positive thing about this type of environment is that you can actually make friends and meet interesting people. Also at times, you can really enjoy yourself, but I’m pretty sure that’s beside the alcohol and not because of it.

When I was in highschool we were made to sit through a survey in which they were trying to determine if the teenagers in my class were at risk of developing an alcohol dependency. The scary part about alcohol is that you can be both physically and emotionally addicted to it, and you can highly increase your chances of developing a physical dependency if you drink often. This survey asked students how often they drank, and it gave them four choices: 

a) Once a year b) Once every six months c) Once a month d) Once a week

I remember that at that point I regularly drank up to two times a week and that that choice wasn’t even in the survey. I at that point was unknowingly putting myself at risk of having my body depend on alcohol to function normally. Pretty scary stuff when I know come to think of it.

If you’re an adult who’s grown up in heavy drinking countries you’ll know all about how hangovers get worse with age and you’ll have experienced how your body becomes less and less apt in processing alcohol. I must admit that I rarely do things that embarass me when I’m drunk, which should be evidence of some form of self-restraint. I’ve never blacked out or thrown up in public. However, alcohol has lead me to make some poor life choices.

If any of you have heard marihuana is the gateway drug to harder substances, you’re failing to acknowledge that actually alcohol is what leads most people into all their other vices. I started smoking “socially” which is a fancy way of saying you smoke when you drink, because for some reason alcohol makes you crave cigarrettes. The first time I tried pot I was really typsy. That can also be said of extasis and molly.

This isn’t supposed to be a sad story about regret because I will admit I’ve enjoyed more parties than those I’ve regretted to go to. I guess all I’m trying to say is good adults can manage drinking without binging. Good adults know that most drinks are unnecessary and that nothing good happens after three in the morning (or very rarely so). 

Good adults also understand that alcohol is quite a powerful substance, which can lead to all sorts of negative situations in which people can get truly unpleasant, but not really be held accountable.

On a more positive note, I wish you all to have had as many wonderful parties as I’ve had. I wish you all to be free from regrets and headaches you saturday and sunday mornings. Most of all, I wish for you to realize that your best memories will probably be those outside of bars. And for me? I think it might be time for me to retire.

“ God, grant me the Courage to change the things I can.” Serenity Prayer.

[whookami]

I LOVE this.

I imagine from this gateway he’s gone on to explore all the really super weird animated movies of the 70s-80s now.

He started out with some of the more mainstream titles. He cried during The Last Unicorn, and Watership Down fucked him up so bad, because it’s just a bunch of rabbits, man, but it’s so dark!! And the end of Plague Dogs had him lost for days. The Secret of NIMH is just one of the best films ever, forget the fact it’s animated, and he kind of wishes Mrs. Brisby was his mom. The Raggedy Ann and Andy film is just...super weird? It makes him think about the Pink Elephants sequence in Dumbo, and while it used to upset him as a kid, now that he’s lived through all the shit the Upside Down has thrown at him, he kinda likes the unsettled nauseous feeling it gives him?

And from there he’s found stuff like Heavy Metal, and Fire and Ice and even Fritz the Cat and it’s so off the wall, so unlike anything he’s ever thought animation could be, and he’s calling up Robin to talk about it constantly and she’s so-so about this stuff. Like, she thinks Watership Down is pretty classic, and she likes The Hobbit and such, but Steve has kind of lost her with Fritz and Heavy Traffic. He tried to get her to watch Starchaser with him, and she just flat refused. He’s a little bummed because no way can he introduce the kids to this stuff, but oh well.

Then one day while on an errand in town he runs into Jonathan, as in, he literally runs into him because Steve is too eager and moving a little too fast and off in his own little world. He apologizes and helps Jon up of course, as he’s grabbing his own stuff off the sidewalk between ‘sorry’s’. Suddenly Jonathan’s eyebrow lifts and he points at the copy of Wizards clutched in Steve’s hand and asks “Is that...is that for Robin?” Because he’s met her, and it doesn’t seem like it’d be her type thing but it definitely doesn’t seem like Steve’s.

Steve just pulls it a little closer to his chest and kind tries to hide the cover better with his hand, because no, “It’s mine. For me. Just, whatever. Y’know,” because he’s a little embarassed and he definitely knows Jonathan is the type to judge him for what he watches (and he and Robin should really talk more, because they totally share that in common!!), and he would really rather skip being made to feel like a dork today. He gets that enough from Dustin and the kids, thank you.

But like, Jonathan just asks “Have you seen any of Bakshi’s other films?” And yeah, he actually says films not cartoons, and Steve is practically bouncing on his feet because someone else knows who Bakshi is, and it isn’t just Robin?! And this is how Steve discovers that Jonathan has a huge VHS collection of weird and wonderful animated fare that he’s mostly collected via trades, and Steve isn’t even put out that some of it isn’t English and he’s gonna have to read subtitles.

They get high together and watch anything from Shinbone Alley and Fantastic Planet to Galaxy Express 999 and Space Battleship Yamato. They just have endless talks and listen to records from Jonathan’s collection afterwards and actually get to really know each other and to their surprise really really like each other? Because sure, a lot of their outward traits are pretty contradictory, and the same goes for a good portion of their interests. Jonathan pretty much hates all organized sports, and Steve knows nothing about photography and composition and proper lighting. But, inside? They’re both kind of worriers. They both push down the emotions they aren’t ready or able to cope with. They both have big issues with fathers and families and how they’re perceived by outsiders. And they only discover all this because they bonded over the super weird and mind blowing animation of the late 70s-early 80s.

...I somehow took the very cute and simple premise of the OP and low key expanded it into eventual Stonathan (likely Stoncy if I let myself have a few more paragraphs here) out of sheer excitement and nostalgia over how groundbreaking that era of animation was. But since they did mention it was a part of their Stoncy fic, at least I kept my shipping mostly in line there. Sorry OP. I loved your idea though, really!!! Steve would totally dig the Rankin-Bass films and the music!!

In my Stoncy fic I made Steve a fan of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. It’s barely alluded to, but it’s there.

Lbr, that boy is a nerd. He seemed to genuinely enjoy Star Wars, even if he couldn’t recall some of the details. Can you imagine what other things the kids have introduced him to?

Anyway so my head canon is that Will showed Steve the Rankin-Bass animated versions of the Hobbit and LotR (IDK, I feel like Will would really like them) and now Steve loves the movies.

Does he know any of the lore? Nope. Does he space out a bit when the kids talk about the Silmarillion? Yep. But he DOES know the lyrics to all the songs and can be caught humming or singing them at random.

[arcane-archives]

*Atira retreats to the trees at the edge of the clearing. She sighs and takes a seat on a nearby rock, burying her face in her hands. The totems around her waist glow as the spirits of an eagle, a bear, and an orca appear beside her in comfort. Indra exits Athlai's home just in time to see the green spectral forms around his friend.*

Indra: Atira...? What's wrong?

*He approaches the mage of Kindness, giving the bear a little pat on his way.*

Atira: I am...Ashamed. Very ashamed, Indra. I gave Toriel the fish I caught this morning, but I did not help her carry it. I just dropped it in front of her! Ah, how rude...How embarassing...How shameful...

I do not know what overcame me, I just...I saw that gateway and I could not go through it...

Indra: ...I understand. It's quite frightening, isn't it...? To go to a world without human magic...

D-Don't be mistaken, of course I'm still going but-!

*He sighs.*

H-Honestly, it's humiliating that I'm this unsettled by it...

Atira: ...Champion of Justice, do you think they will leave me?

*The healer looks at the spirits around her with tears in her eyes.*

Will they slumber, or will they depart...? And if they go...Will that be better for them? Am I selfish for keeping them here? I ask myself this each day...

Indra: *The archer takes a seat next to Atira, and gently places his hand on her shoulder in comfort.*

You could...Leave them here. In this world.

Atira: ...What if someone were to take them? Or-Or destroy their vessels? I have never been apart from them...I feel pathetic...Being so afraid to be separate from them.

Indra: They are family to you. It is only natural for you to feel this way...

Atira: I...I suppose.

*The grass around her starts to wilt and the leaves on the trees start to die and fall to the ground. Atira looks at her companions sorrowfully before letting them return to their totems with a sigh.*

I will have to decide soon...

Zephyrus: *He laughs bitterly.* No intention of hurting me!? Oh, that's rich! You're bloody insane if you think I'm going to fall for that garbage! *He reluctantly reaches into the bag and holds out a handful of gold coins.* Here! You want money right!? I can give you more than whatever that scum bag is offering! Not in gold, but in information. Blackmail. You can get 5 times the amount of gold he's paying you, if you use it well! ...You just have to let me go. That's all I'm asking.

Chara stared at the child in confusion and amusement. They approached the child and took one of the gold coins. Was this genuine? They bit into it and it left a mark. Soft and malleable… real gold…Should be good for the treasury. They had no need for more money, but it was nice to have anyway.“So, who do you have information on?” They asked, interested in what the child had to say. They almost pitied the child. They clearly didn’t know that they were trapped here forever yet.