#no one is prepared for THIS kind of nature
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adrianastrix · 3 days ago
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Another thing I'll add here is something that I was coincidentally discussing with a friend yesterday: this kind of issue can only be solved if our science education (and I'm talking BOTH Natural Sciences and Humanities) doesn't rely on teachers being simply a source of "correct" information.
I put "correct" in quotes because guys. GUYS. I was in a comitee for quality control of kids science textbooks (ages 11-14), and Jesus Christ. It was a book written in the Year of Our Lord 2022 and it had a SLUR as an "alternative name" to Down Syndrome. Not to mention information that was BLATANT WRONG when you as much as googled the legal definition of a certain thing, and much much more. We obviously bombed it, but there's the kicker: the only thing our ban ensured is that this textbook collection is out of question for Brazilian public schools. Private schools can use it, if they want to.
Which means that even schools can and, as much as we try, will spread misinformation, even if it's in a small scale. The teacher in the Twitter thread very astutely identified it as a crisis of authority. If education is just a matter of relaying "correct facts", it all comes down to a matter of authority. And the poor teacher feels hopeless because she can't even say, in good faith, that her word is inherently better than ChatGPT or Wikipedia or TikTok because, guess what, she could be wrong. There's no such thing as infallible authority.
There's only one solution, one that Education Scientists (which ARE a thing, I'm one of them!) have been saying since, I dunno, THE 18TH CENTURY: giving kids an education centered in DOING science, not memorizing its products. The teacher started amazingly by asking the kid to "look it up" in front of her. But what she COULD have done, if prepared for this kind of challenge (I obviously don't fault her for freezing when confronted by something for the first time) was to ask for the notebook or cellphone and show the student what she meant by "look it up" and how the results vary. And tell him that NO single source should be trusted, either her or ChatGPT, and when sources disagree, what should be the tiebreaker?
In other words, the only antidote is showing the kids HOW science is done, HOW you arrive at conclusions, and HOW documental research is done. Science isn't something that Very Smart Geniuses do in their ivory towers to create The Truth. It's science, not a sacred religious ministery. Science is mundane, messy, controversial, and everyone* can do it with a bit of training, just like everyone* can cook or sing or draw with the proper training. [*"everyone", of course, being a rethorical generalization; obviously there are circunstances in which people might NOT be able to do it, or might need especialized assistance that others don't need, but those are the exceptions, not the rule.]
The main reason why our education is stuck in memorization and trying to out-authority the internet has a name: Standard Testing.
It's LEAGUES easier to test for how many facts someone can spew exclusively from memory (you just need a multiple choice test that can be graded by a machine) than it is to test students for their ability of create, research and communicate knowledge (the current optimal way to do it is the whole process of writing a monography/dissertation/thesis).
The whole EVALUATION system holds us down WAY more than the teaching methods themselves, because when you are teaching scientific abilities, you WON'T be sparing time to ensure that all your students are commiting definitions and formulas to mind. At the VERY least, tests should allow students to search for the info they need: this alone already demonstrate that student's ability to research, compare and choose correct information.
The idea that you can compare kids by a test that quantifies the amount of information they have on their heads, and that once they perform well on a test, that info is certified as correct and true is RIDICULOUS. Information on the brain degrades with time, unless you need it constantly. And people who grade tests are human, humans can be wrong. The accepted answer in a test can be wrong.
But we have to maintain the illusion that we can OBJECTIVELY rank students, schools, school systems and nations on how much knowledge they have. Otherwise, how investors will be reassured that they are "top quality"? How private education businesses can boast that they are "the best", thus justifying their price tag? How international banks will "ensure" that the amount of money countries are investing in education are being "correctly spent" (instead of being used to repay them)?
Soooo... ChatGPT is only the tip of the iceberg. There ARE ways for us to solve that problem, there HAS been ways for it since the 18th FREAKING century. But as long as they don't make the money people happy, as long as we expect school knowledge to take the form of a standard list of memorized correct info, we will still be ineffectively fighting the robots.
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solxamber · 21 hours ago
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ive been relistening to the villains' songs like be prepared and poor unfortunate souls and it got me wondering if i could request for the overblotted boy reacting to a reader, whos usually pretty docile and a textbook example of a "good person", singing their respective villains' songs. Except that reader's extremely expressive through their voice and movements. so much so that they look and sound so villainous that its a complete 180 from their usual self. maybe reader was just vibing to themselves and their inner theater nerd came out and was just having the time of their life and the boys just so happen to be around and heard them. how would they react? :D
Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil reacting to reader singing their Villain songs
a/n; i know overblot gang was requested but evil queen, maleficent and hades don't have villain songs so i hope this is fine!
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Riddle Rosehearts
Riddle wasn’t sure what drew him to the courtyard that afternoon. Perhaps it was the faint melody drifting through the air, or the infectious energy radiating from the sound. But when he turned the corner, what he saw rooted him to the spot.
There you were, standing on one of the stone benches with an invisible spotlight illuminating your every move. Your normally calm, good-natured demeanor was gone, replaced by a commanding presence that demanded attention.
You sang “Who’s been painting my roses red?” with a voice that was equal parts theatrical and menacing. Your gestures were grand, your expression shifting effortlessly between outrage and cruel amusement as if you were a monarch addressing trembling subjects. It was captivating. It was terrifying. It was… perfect.
Riddle’s breath hitched as he watched you embody the very spirit of the Queen of Hearts. The fervor in your movements, the intensity in your voice—it was as though you had stepped out of one of his cherished childhood storybooks. You pointed an accusatory finger at a nonexistent offender, your voice dripping with venom as you declared, “Off with their heads!”
His heart pounded against his ribcage. Was this the same person who handed out snacks to dormmates without asking for anything in return? Who was always ready with a kind word, a helping hand, or a soft laugh?
And yet… this was you too. A side of you he’d never seen. Bold, commanding, unyielding.
Riddle swallowed hard, feeling heat creep up his neck. It was almost unfair how effortlessly you seemed to channel the Queen of Hearts he revered. How could you embody such power and poise when you were usually so… so… docile? His admiration mixed with a bewildering flush of pride.
You didn’t notice him, completely immersed in your impromptu performance. With a dramatic flourish, you ended the song, holding an invisible scepter aloft as if ruling over a kingdom of trembling subjects.
The silence that followed was deafening.
It was only then that you spotted him, his wide eyes and flushed face a dead giveaway that he’d seen the entire thing. Your mouth fell open, and you scrambled off the bench, your cheeks burning as you sputtered, “Riddle! I-I didn’t see you there!”
His lips moved as though he wanted to speak, but no sound came out. Finally, after a long moment, he managed, “That… was remarkable.”
“Remarkable?” you repeated, unsure if that was a compliment or a polite way of saying What on earth was that?
Riddle stepped closer, his expression torn between awe and embarrassment. “You—you truly embodied the spirit of the Queen of Hearts. Your intensity, your conviction…” He paused, his voice softening. “It was admirable. Inspiring, even.”
You blinked, stunned. “I was just messing around… You really think so?”
His cheeks burned brighter as he averted his gaze. “It’s… rare to see someone honor her so… naturally. I admire your passion. It’s…” He hesitated before meeting your eyes. “...beautiful.”
Your breath caught, and for a moment, you both stood in awkward silence, the weight of his words settling between you. Then, with a nervous laugh, you scratched the back of your head. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the show, Your Honor.”
Riddle’s lips twitched, almost into a smile. “I did.” Then, in a quieter voice, he added, “I always do.”
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona wasn’t the type to eavesdrop. Not intentionally, anyway. But when he heard a low, familiar melody echoing from one of the quiet courtyards, his ears twitched involuntarily. Curiosity got the better of him, and he sauntered toward the sound.
What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.
There you were, pacing back and forth on the edge of a stone fountain like a monarch surveying their pride. Your voice rang out—low, powerful, dripping with calculated malice—as you sang “Be prepared!” You punctuated the words with dramatic gestures, your arms sweeping through the air as if commanding an invisible army.
Leona’s tail flicked, his sharp green eyes narrowing. Where was the soft-spoken person he knew? The one who gave others the benefit of the doubt even when they didn’t deserve it? The one who, annoyingly, always had a kind smile ready for anyone in need?
No, this was someone else entirely. Someone confident. Dangerous. Mesmerizing.
“Meticulous planning, tenacity spanning, decades of denial…” Your voice grew stronger with each line, rising and falling in time with your movements. The sneer on your lips, the glint in your eyes—it was uncanny. You weren’t just singing the King of Beasts’ song. You were the King of Beasts.
Leona’s chest tightened as he watched you embody everything he admired about his ancestor. The cunning, the ambition, the audacity to demand a throne that should have been his by right. He knew those feelings well, knew the fire that came with them. And yet, seeing you channel them so effortlessly… it struck a chord he hadn’t expected.
And damn, if you didn’t look good doing it.
You reached the final verse, throwing your arms wide with a triumphant grin. “Yes, our teeth and ambitions are bared—be prepared!” Your voice echoed in the empty courtyard, the last note lingering in the air as you struck a dramatic pose.
Silence followed. Then—
“Didn’t know you had it in you, Herbivore.”
You jumped, nearly toppling into the fountain. “Leona!” you yelped, whipping around to see him leaning against a pillar, arms crossed and an infuriating smirk on his face.
“How long were you standing there?” you demanded, your cheeks heating up.
“Long enough.” He pushed off the pillar and strolled toward you, his gaze sharp and appraising. “You’ve been holding out on me, huh? All this time, you’ve been playin’ the meek little herbivore act, and now I catch you out here auditioning for the role of a lifetime.”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I was just goofing around! It’s not like—ugh, I can’t believe you saw that.”
He chuckled, low and deep. “Relax. I’m not complainin’. You nailed it, by the way. The whole ambition thing? Kinda suits you.”
You peeked at him from between your fingers, unsure if he was teasing or being sincere. “You’re not… weirded out?”
“Why would I be?” He tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost fond. “You were channeling the King of Beasts, weren’t you? ‘Course you looked good doin’ it.”
His words made your heart skip, but before you could respond, he leaned in closer, his green eyes glinting. “Still, you’ve got guts pullin’ that off. You keep surprising me, Herbivore. I’ll give you that.”
Your face felt like it was on fire, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Well… thanks, I guess.”
He straightened, hands sliding into his pockets as he turned to leave. “Don’t stop on my account. You wanna belt out another song, go for it. Maybe I’ll even join in next time.”
And with that, he walked away, his tail swaying lazily behind him.
You stared after him, your heart pounding for reasons you didn’t quite understand. “Join in?” you muttered to yourself, shaking your head. “Yeah, right.”
But the thought of Leona singing Be Prepared with you? You couldn’t help but smile.
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Azul Ashengrotto
Azul always prided himself on keeping a calm, collected demeanor. It was part of the image he'd cultivated—smooth, sophisticated, and utterly unflappable. But today? Today, he felt his composure teetering on a knife’s edge.
He hadn’t meant to stumble across you in an empty classroom, where you apparently thought you were alone. The soft hum of music drew his attention as he passed by, and curiosity had compelled him to take a peek.
And there you were.
The typically sweet, mild-mannered person he knew had vanished, replaced by someone utterly commanding. You were perched on the edge of a table, one hand gesturing grandly as your voice rang out:
"Poor unfortunate souls, in pain, in need!"
Azul froze, the words sending a shiver down his spine. Your tone was rich, dripping with confidence, and paired with the way you moved—calculated, fluid, like every motion had a purpose—you were magnetic. You swept your arm out with a flourish, mimicking the sea witch herself, your voice curling around each word with wicked glee.
"This one longing to be thinner, that one wants to get the girl..."
Azul’s breath caught. You weren’t just singing the song. You were the song. The sly glances, the theatrical gestures, the sharp, knowing smile—you were embodying the Sea Witch in a way that made his heart race.
How had he never seen this side of you before?
"And do I help them? Yes, indeed!"
Your voice climbed, bold and commanding, and Azul’s mind raced. The way you seemed to channel the Sea Witch—the cunning, the control, the sheer power—it was breathtaking. You reminded him of everything he admired about the Sea Witch. The very traits that he also had.
But seeing you like this? It felt... dangerous.
"Now it’s happened once or twice, someone couldn’t pay the price...”
You leaned forward, your expression devious, and Azul’s chest tightened. He suddenly felt like one of those poor, unfortunate souls, utterly captivated and completely at your mercy.
The song ended with a flourish, and you threw your arms out, basking in your imaginary spotlight.
That’s when you noticed him.
“Azul?!” you yelped, nearly toppling off the table. “What are you doing here?”
He took a moment to collect himself, smoothing his expression into something neutral—though the faint pink dusting his cheeks betrayed him. “I was just passing by,” he said, clearing his throat. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Your face turned red as you scrambled to stand. “Oh, I was just... uh, messing around! It’s nothing serious.”
“Nothing serious?” His voice came out sharper than he intended. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That performance was incredible.”
You blinked, startled. “You think so?”
“Without a doubt.” His voice softened, but his gaze remained intense. “You… embodied the role perfectly. The confidence, the cunning—you channeled it all flawlessly.”
You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “Thanks, but I was just having fun. I didn’t think anyone would actually see me.”
“Perhaps you should reconsider,” he said, his tone almost too casual. “If you ever decide to pursue a career in theater, you’d be quite formidable.”
You tilted your head, studying him. “You really mean that?”
Azul’s smile was small but genuine. “Absolutely. Though, if I may… I’d suggest not showing that side of yourself to just anyone.”
“Why not?” you asked, puzzled.
He stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Because power like that can be… intoxicating. And there are those who might exploit it.”
You stared at him, unsure how to respond. The way he looked at you—like you were a puzzle he desperately wanted to solve—made your heart skip.
Azul cleared his throat again, stepping back as if realizing how close he’d gotten. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to your… ‘messing around.’”
As he turned to leave, you called out, “Azul?”
“Yes?”
“You’re not going to, like, hold this over my head, are you?”
He paused, glancing over his shoulder with a sly smile. “Now, would I ever do something like that?”
You groaned, throwing your head back. “Why did I even ask?”
His laughter echoed down the hall as he walked away, leaving you to wonder if you’d just made a mistake—or if you’d unintentionally gained his admiration. Either way, the image of Azul’s flustered expression was one you wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon.
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Jamil Viper
Jamil had long mastered the art of blending into the background, observing the world from the sidelines without drawing attention to himself. It was how he kept control, how he stayed one step ahead. But today, his usually composed exterior faltered.
He wasn’t sure what compelled him to stop by the empty classroom, but when he pushed the door open, his entire world shifted.
You were there.
Gone was the gentle, kind presence he had grown used to. Instead, you were standing atop a low table, your expression sharp and commanding, your hands sweeping through the air as if conjuring storms with your words.
"Prince Ali? Yes, it is he, but not as you know him!"
Jamil froze. Your voice was rich, dripping with mockery and power, a far cry from the sweet tone you usually used. You stalked across the small space, throwing your arms out dramatically as you continued the song, your movements perfectly embodying the calculated, theatrical confidence of the Sorcerer of the Sands himself.
"Read my lips and come to grips with reality!"
Your voice curled around the words, biting and sardonic, and Jamil felt the hairs on his arms stand on end. You were into it. Every gesture, every word carried weight, as if you were performing for an audience of thousands instead of an empty room.
He had always admired the Sorcerer of the Sands—not just for his cleverness, but for his ambition, his cunning, the way he refused to settle for the scraps the world threw him. Watching you now, it was as if you’d plucked that same spirit from the pages of a storybook and breathed it into life.
"His personality flaws give me adequate cause..."
You spun dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger at an imaginary audience, your expression fierce. For a moment, Jamil almost believed you were chastising him, and his heart skipped a beat.
He should look away. He should leave before you noticed him. But he couldn’t. He was rooted to the spot, utterly captivated.
"To send him packing on a one-way trip, so his prospects take a terminal dip!"
You ended with a flourish, holding your arms out as if soaking in invisible applause, a self-satisfied smirk curling your lips.
And then you saw him.
“Jamil?!” you yelped, nearly losing your balance in surprise.
He stepped forward, trying to look impassive even though his heart was still racing. “I didn’t mean to interrupt… whatever that was.”
Your face turned a deep shade of red. “I was just, uh, messing around! I didn’t think anyone was here.”
“That much was clear.” His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed him. They lingered on you a moment too long, taking in the faint flush on your cheeks, the sparkle in your eyes, the way your chest rose and fell as you caught your breath.
You fidgeted, smoothing your clothes. “It’s nothing, really. Just a silly song.”
“Silly?” He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “That performance was anything but silly.”
Your embarrassment deepened. “You don’t have to mock me, you know.”
“I’m not mocking you,” he said quickly. Too quickly. He cleared his throat, glancing away. “It was… impressive. You captured the essence of the character perfectly.”
“Really?”
Jamil sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yes. The confidence, the control, the edge of menace—it was all there. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were plotting to overthrow a kingdom.”
You laughed nervously. “Guess I just got carried away.”
“Carried away...” he murmured, his gaze softening. The truth was, watching you like that had shaken something loose in him. Seeing you embody the cunning, ambitious traits he admired so deeply—it was almost too much.
“Anyway,” you said, hopping off the table. “I’ll just pretend this never happened if you will.”
Jamil smirked faintly. “As you wish.”
But as you walked past him, he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, watching the way you moved, still radiating the energy of the sorcerer you’d been channeling moments ago.
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Masterlist
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morbidology · 1 day ago
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Baba Anujka, born Ana di Pištonja around 1838, was a Serbian herbalist and self-proclaimed witch who gained notoriety as one of the world’s oldest serial killers.
She was active during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and was responsible for the deaths of at least 50 people, though some estimates suggest her body count may have been as high as 150. Using her knowledge of herbs and poisons, Baba Anujka prepared lethal concoctions for clients who sought her services, often to rid themselves of unwanted spouses or relatives.
Operating out of her home in the village of Vladimirovac, Serbia, Baba Anujka became known as a "wise woman" who could provide remedies and solutions for all kinds of problems. She claimed her potions were harmless but would offer what she called her "magic water" to those seeking a deadly solution, especially in cases of domestic disputes. These potions were laced with arsenic and other toxic substances and would cause victims to fall ill and die within days, making their deaths appear natural.
Baba Anujka managed to evade detection for decades due to her remote location and the trust placed in her by the locals. However, in 1928, a dissatisfied client reported her to police after the suspicious deaths of two victims. She was arrested and, at the age of 90, was convicted of multiple murders. In 1929, Baba Anujka was sentenced to 15 years in prison, though she was released after serving only eight years due to her advanced age. She died in 1938, shortly after her release.
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riririnnnn · 2 days ago
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I have this foreboding feeling that while we are prepared for Sae's and Shidou's backstory, Nagi's backstory is going to sneak from behind and punch us in the gut.
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No, I don't think it's going to be straight up depression like Kaiser's, but I do think that it'll hit close to home.
You see, Nagi got Laissez-faire parents which means they never really interfered with his life. Like, these type of parents—as I have read on some websites—will basically set their child free and let them do whatever they want with no or very few rules/restrictions. They will not tell you, "Oh! You should do this!" or "Oh! You shouldn't do this!" They will simply let you figure out your life all by yourself.
I'm not an expert on this and I'm not calling this type of parenting bad in any way. Every child is different with different needs, and I'm sure there are many who grew up in this kinda family and liked this parenting method. However, I do think that Nagi didn't like it that much, and I got two reasons to think this way:
1. "That's nice."
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When Reo said that his family constantly meddles in his life, Nagi's immediate reaction was, "That's nice" instead of being surprised or disgruntled. If Nagi really liked his parents NOT meddling in his life, then he should've said something like, "Really!? Sucks to be you, Reo. I can't imagine living a life like that!"
You getting me?
Also, we all know how Nagi is—he definitely feels that telling someone to do or not to do something is a hassle, so he, probably, feels that if someone is doing all this for you, then you are important for them.
And before any one says, no, I don't think Nagi was tying up his tongue thinking, "They are his parents. They wouldn't want anything bad for their own child, right? I shouldn't say anything against them and should say good things about them just to be safe." I don't think he has this kind of filter in him.
2. "Don't die ."
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So, why would you not want someone to die? Of course, because you care for them and want them to be with you.
"Want"
That's really what I'm tryna highlight.
It's a pretty common knowledge that some children are just naturally more independent while others are a bit more dependent and seek guidance from the elders. Considering Nagi's first reaction to knowing about Reo's parents' meddling, I think that Kiddo!Nagi falls into the latter category—someone who likes to be guided and helped by the adults. Now, place Kiddo!Nagi with his Laissez-faire parents... You are getting where I'm going with this one?
That's why I think that Kiddo!Nagi, probably, thought that his parents didn't love him/care for him. And what happens if someone doesn't love you or care for you? Yeah, they don't care if you die which, somewhat, explains why Older!Nagi was happy to hear, "Don't die [before us (probably)]" from his parents.
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I have already talked about his potential backstory before too, so it was actually when I heard he had longer bangs as a child that made my head turn to him again—something felt odd.
I understand that having long bangs is not a big deal—Niko's bangs literally cover his eyes, but having it as a kid is way different, y'know. Once you are like 12-13, you somewhat become capable of doing your own hair and clothes by yourself, so you can manage whatever aesthetics you prefer. However, for a kid younger than that, it's the parents' responsibility to look after his/her hair and clothes, and we all know that long bangs are quite bothersome—blocks our vision, sometimes stabs the eyes, and even irritatingly itches the nose.
All in all, till his backstory drops, I'd firmly believe that he was, though unintentionally, a neglected kid—at least, emotionally.
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Now I can't get this image out of my head where Kiddo!Nagi is longingly staring at other kids in a park where everyone is learning things like riding a bicycle or maybe playing baseball and stuff with their parents while he is just.. there, probably, all alone.
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shamachan · 16 hours ago
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Hey-hi ray-ray!! If i may be so bold to request, Qiu and Tama christmas headcanons? Since its around the time for it :3
Tamarack + Qiu Christmas headcanonsꔛ
step 1!
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Qiu
— I feel like he's a big fan of this kind of holidays - everyone's happy and smiling and enjoying themselves. and he's not an exception.
— He'll also make sure that he's house is decorated properly. Tinsel, a Christmas tree, all hung with multi-colored lights, mistletoes here and there, nice garlands in the house and outside of it... Isn't his house looks the best for upcoming Christmas?
— Qiu will surely come to your porch and be like "hey, how're you feeling about building snowmans in front of our houses?"
— and if you agree, it may end up with a little snowball fight. why? well, it's just entertaining to be all covered with snow, as if you're real snowmans here. and plus because he just adores the thought of spending as much cool and funny time as he can with you!
— I think he'll be into going snow sledding, whether on sleds or snow tubes! he might also take you, Boy's club and Tamarack for a ride on them with him.
— Qiu can also give you a small sleigh ride if you want! He'd be so-o-o smug about it.
— Autumn will also prepare a small gift for you, his favourite neighbour, you absolutely deserving it. Guessing it'll be a small drawing of you, according with a fairytale book and some candies like candy cane.
— ...don't know why, but i can imagine him wearing a Santa's hat while gifting you his present and he saying things like "you witnessed a real Santa Clause, now that's our shared secret. don't tell anyone!"
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Tamarack
— Oh! Tamarack is the most excited one beyond anything in Golden Groove about Christmas!
— I'm sure she'll make a plenty hundred of snow angels on the ground, - be careful not to step on them! - and will invite you to come here to her house and do that with her! if you want to, you can do that in your house yard too! Tammy bets you'll have so much fun!
— If you get cold, Tamarack will offer you to drink tea with her and share her gingerbread cookies with you. She will give you some cookies to bring them to your home to eat them later too, if they're to your liking that is!
— her favourite element of this special day is a Christmas tree. like, "a piece of nature we can bring in our house and decorate it? yay!"
— wishes to Santa Clause for everyone who she cares about to feel nice and safe and sound all the new year. this is important!
— Tama loves to ask Omi and Opa to turn on some cheerful Christmas music, to the point that she knows the lyrics of all songs.
— she will sing a couple of her favorite songs to you too and ask if you like them. and if you answer her question positively, she will be so-so giggly and later show you other songs from her Christmas songs collection!
— Tamarack would prepare a gift for you too. Feeling like she'll give it straight in the morning of the Christmas celebration day, and it'll be a small Santa Claus and a Christmas tree figurines that you can hang on your own tree at home or let it stand in your room! both ways are working with her, Tammy's just happy to celebrate this day with you.
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A/N: OMGG HEY HII REGULUS!! I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU! i absolutely LOVE the idea of this request sincerely thank uu!! <33
though the headcanons r kinda small, I put a little bit of my heart into this, ahaha^^ that was fun!:33
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gothamite-rambler · 11 hours ago
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It's a start (Harley and Dick start to make amends)
Harley kicked in the door of Joker's warehouse, striding in confidently while wielding her iconic red and black bat. Dressed in a sleek anti-hero business suit, she felt empowered and ready for anything.
Harley (singing): Young and sweet, only seventeen, dancin' queen, feel the beat from the tangerine—why would a tangerine have a beat? Hm... anyways, Nightwing?!
Nightwing: Harley, turn to your left.
Harley turned, surprised when she spotted Nightwing trapped in a cage suspended above the ground. She waved enthusiastically, but he could only raise an eyebrow in response.
Nightwing (correcting casually): Also, the lyric was "tambourine," not "tangerine." It's not about a piece of fruit with a heart beat.
Harley: That makes more sense, thanks.
Nightwing (indifferent): No problem. Could you help me out here?
Harley (gasping quickly when she realized she was wasting time chit chatting): Sure! They set up this cage a good distance from the entrance; makes sense. But why is that vat over there empty?
Nightwing: They were going to fill it with Joker venom, but during the struggle, I managed to dump the original one they planned to use. So, they went off to get more.
Harley's expression shifted from curiosity to amusement as she began to giggle, which quickly morphed into her characteristic cackle. She quickly covered her mouth.
Harley (apologetic): Sorry! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, it's how I laugh with the Joker goop effects.
Nightwing shrugged, gripping the bars of his cage tightly.
Nightwing: I've been told my laugh is creepy. Apparently, I have a slight cackle too. They have to give me a break, I had Joker toxin in my blood a couple of times. I’m an adult! I don’t giggle anymore!
Harley shook her head with a smile as she approached the crane mechanism that held the cage in place.
Harley: You had a cute giggle when you were a kid, though. I remember when we first met. I was twenty-six at the time, and you had to be, what, eleven?
Nightwing (nodding): Yeah, eleven and three months. You were in your mid-twenties? You looked way younger back then. Honestly, I thought you were like nineteen.
Harley grinned widely, waving her hand as she maneuvered the crane to move the cage a safe distance from the empty vat, then began to slowly lower it to the ground.
Harley: I was smart, but not graduating from college early smart. Maybe it was the Joker goop on my skin and my obsession with skincare routines. I was tryin' to be like Paris Hilton for a while.
Nightwing (sweetly): Women like that get Botox, which robs us of our natural beauty. You're a bit insane-looking, but I won't argue that you're pretty too. I knew a few lady clowns in the circus that I… went to a lot as a kid and they were all gorgeous and you are too. There you go, elevated your mood for the night.
Harley (surprised by the compliment): Oh… wow, thank you! I wasn't expectin' ya to be nice to me. Are you just doin' that so I’ll actually save ya? Because I'd be helpin' ya either way.
Nightwing (shrugging): No, I’m being nice because it’s basic human decency. I don't trust you, but I've come to that point in my adulthood where I can let a couple of grudges go.
Harley shook her head with a teasing grin.
Harley: That's a healthy mindset. Batman raised ya well. My life before meetin' Joker never taught me to be kind; it was more about cursin' people out. Funny thing is, a couple of heroes have talked about how you're nicer to them than Batman. I thought they had to be exaggeratin'. You were Batman's sidekick and… you know.
Nightwing rolled his eyes.
Nightwing: While I do care about Batman, his antisocialness didn't rub off on me. I think that's what he wanted for me. He's… a good parent, to say the least.
Harley finished lowering the cage to the ground with a quick thud and then walked over, preparing her bat to break the lock.
Harley: I don't doubt that. Oh, stand back! I’m goin' to break the lock with my bat!
Nightwing stepped aside as Harley approached the cage, steadying her bat before slamming it against the lock repeatedly. With each strike, the lock buckled under her force.
Harley (while swinging): I swear I needed a Pops like that. Although college was tough, too! There was this guy, Melvin, who hated me because I kept turnin' him down for dates, and he was jealous I was smarter than him. He even started a rumor that I was sleepin' with my teachers for good grades.
After the fifth hit, the lock finally snapped, and Harley tossed it aside, stepping back to give Nightwing space. He pushed the cage door open, relieved to be free.
Nightwing (sympathetic smile): A vengeful nice guy in college wanted to ruin your reputation over that? I can believe it, sadly. I never actually believed the rumor. I read your case file with Batman once, and you earned your degree before you met the Joker.
Harley shrugged and rested her bat on her shoulder.
Harley: Blind love makes you do stupid, crazy, bad things, like tossin' aside every bit of progress you’ve made in life just to be with a guy who couldn't shut up about how, "One bad day can break a man." Ugh, blah, blah, blah! Lookin' back, he was all talk with that nihilism nonsense.
Nightwing nodded, letting out a soft sigh of agreement.
Harley: Anyways, I’m glad I could save ya, but I’ll give you some distance like you ya asked me to and head off. Ivy says hi, by the way.
Harley spun on her heel, but Nightwing stopped her, even though part of him wanted her to leave.
Nightwing (reluctantly): Well, don’t leave just yet. The Joker’s goons will be back soon, and I might… need assistance stopping them, especially from someone who used to work with them.
Harley turned back, her signature grin wide and genuine.
Nightwing (reluctantly): I might regret this later, but would you like to stay and help me?
Harley (hopeful): Does that mean ya comin' around to forgivin' me?
Nightwing placed his hands on his hips and chuckled.
Nightwing: It'll take time to fully forgive you or make amends. This is simply me being nice to someone trying to change. Just don't touch me, okay?
Harley: I won't, Ivy didn't go into specifics, but made it clear you don't want crazy women makin' any type of physical contact with ya. I get it honestly. I used to work at a dive bar for villains and goons. Not a fun time.
Nightwing (laughing softly while stretching his sore legs): I'm glad she didn't tell you everything and respects that secret.
Harley: Oh yeah, she won't admit it, but she doesn't hate ya . I'm glad she's got another person she "doesn't hate with a burning passion, but tolerates immensely." How was my impression of her?
Nightwing gave her a thumbs up trying not to joke around too much in the middle of a mission.
Nightwing: She always... said kind things about you even before you two got together.
Harley smiled proudly, warmed by his reassuring words. She felt a growing connection to Jason as she considered the idea of befriending one of the Batfam members. Yet, it was Nightwing's kindness and generosity, both towards her and others, that truly illuminated why so many people admired him.
Harley: See, this is a nice start. Jason put me on a probation period with his team, and you… you want me to stay here and help. Man, you boys are somethin' else, but I like that about ya. Ya wouldn’t hurt me like other men would, and I appreciate that.
Nightwing crossed his arms, a furrow of concern etched on his brow. Despite feeling encouraged by Harley's words, he still harbored doubts about her progress. The fear lingered in the back of his mind that one day she might slip back into the Joker's grasp. After all, he'd seen how easily the Joker had manipulated her before and with the right persuasion and even literal toxins at his disposal he had done it with others in the past.
Yet, Harley hadn’t faltered since finally cutting ties with him, and that was admirable. Nightwing couldn’t help but respect her tenacity. He recalled the darkness he had almost lost Jason to—anger, resentment, and the overwhelming weight of isolation had once threatened to swallow his friend whole. If Harley was indeed changing for the better, he didn't want to be the one who could potentially push her back toward evil.
Taking a breath, he reminded himself that everyone deserves a chance at redemption. But the stakes were high; he couldn’t shake the feeling that the moment he let his guard down, it could all unravel. Nightwing wanted to be a source of support for her, but he was also wary of the delicate balance between redemption and relapse, especially when it came to someone as unpredictable as Harley Quinn.
Nightwing (reassuringly): I would have to lose part of my brain and morals if I ever treated you like the Joker mistreated you. I'm... kind of proud of you for actually trying to be a better version of yourself.
Harley covered her mouth, stifling her emotions as she fought back tears. She nodded in understanding before walking over to Nightwing and sitting down on the ground beside him.
Harley: Want to sit with me? We can play cards. I always bring a deck!
Nightwing (slightly amused): Nah, I have to stand and keep watch. They’ll be here any minute, and I want to be ready. You can set up solitaire while we wait.
Harley: I love that game! Nightwing have ya ever been told you’re the best?
Nightwing (nonchalantly): I was born this way, but I appreciate the compliment.
As Harley set up her game, Nightwing stood watch at the door, his eyes scanning for any potential threats. He felt a bit more at ease giving her this chance. It might not be the same as the books Jason was gifted from her, but it was a start—one that he hoped would lead her further along the path of change.
Harley trying (and failing) to make amends with Nightwing
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aly4khq · 1 hour ago
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A DRAGON'S LAIR! ☾ ⋆*・゚⋆*
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— sum: You were exploring Tarus city as a self mission, trying to find the dragon who was told to have lived in the city for many years to come. You thought that you would encounter barely anything, but you were ever so wrong.
— characters: dragon!sylus
— warnings: pining, he tops ur clothes, double penetrartion (he had too dicks), improper use of his tail, manhandling, biting, fuckin from behind. (if i have missed any, please inform me!)
— wc: 1,746
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You've never been one to lerk into unknown territory or to find refuge in a random city that you learnt about in a history book — it's never been in your nature at all. But once you saw the posters, you knew that it was a place of worship and surprise.
Tarus city, a city where it's been claimed to have a dragon that laid in the depths of a special cave. The cave was highly risky for any normal human being, I mean, the image that laid on the posters was frightening enough to keep away tourists. The unusually greyish-red that scattered around the cave's entrance, moving around like a line circling a branch, a black thick coating around it which looked like claws when compared to each other, the singular hand on the top leading to the cave like it was inviting you.
You loved mythical creatures so this was a field day for you, you needed to go.
There was also a garden which yearly grew beautiful flowers there, crimson in colour and rose in shape. They scattered everywhere, and they seemed to have been planted by a very skilled gardener — if there even was one back in the early years of life. Oh how you'd love to distress by rolling in there after a long day, what a dream.
But you weren't just there for the cool looking dragon, you were there for the sword. Like that playground sword that you had to remove from the ground, and whoever could move it was the 'chosen one', there was one that laid outside the cave, imbedded in the beautiful scenery of flowers and healthy grass with its delicate pattern leaving you with mysteries.
"Where did it come from?" "What does it symbolise?" "How did it get there out of all places?"
Who owned it?
Well, let's just say that you weren't too scared to find out. You needed answers and if you had to dig into a random mythical cave then you will. Despite the lack of information, you searched up any little tips to help you navigate inside of a cave.
You needed to be prepared, and properly prepared.
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After a while of constant climbing and exploring the beautiful long yards of greenery, you stood face to face with the cave that was feared the most back in Linkon City, aka the Dragon's Lair. In the papers, it looked like absolute horror capturing in a frame but in person, it was gorgeous.
The cave was expanded and opened for anyone to come into, and you'd did just that. Entering the cave, you turned on the flashlight you brought, seeing insta treasures of many different kinds of art scattered around the walls of the cave. "Wow...this is cool..." you softly murmured to yourself, still engrossed in the scenery—
...what the hell was that?
A deep and raged growl sped through the walls of the cave like air, filling your eyes with an intense sound. Hissing, the growl's sound waves led you to an expanded room, where a big bed-like item was in the front, surrounding by more jewels of ancient treasures. You found yourself searching around, looking for what this place could've belonged to.
And after 5 minutes, you dug in, "What's the worst that could happen?"
Searching the amazing rich items on the floor, your bag got heavier and heavier with time. Each jewel that caught your eye went in. Some of them even had ancient symbols on them, now that's a lot of money.
But, a singular gem caught your eye. It was a necklace that had a black substance scattered all over it, laying on the bed that was in the middle of the room. "Oh?" your hand went out, curious, "This is peculiar."
The necklace was a beautiful golden chain, wrapping with ancient knots and twists so it was bonded together perfectly. On both sides of the pendants scattered around the necklace, there were small, very intricate patterns dented into the metal. It had a pocture of a dragon on the front, and it...was weirdly shaped. Like the top half was crossed out, but forget that, you just found a good millions of money in your hands.
"Well, that's been a nice journey here cave, thanks for the new finds and...yeah. I'll be going."
You turned for the entrance where you came from, and it was blocked off by a large bolder. "Huh..? Why...who?"
You turned around to find a way to get out when a tail wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to your knees in a rapid manner. You scrapped your knee on the harsh carpet. "Ah! Hah...ow.." You tired to arise from your forced position when you heard a deep voice.
"Were you never taught of etiquette? Or was it just you who missed out?"
He boomed over you, a...handsome man. He was silver hair, crimson eyes and weird black claws and a tail. His clothes bleeding in with his skin.
This isn't the dragon. I mean, it's a literally human being?
"Etiquette? Who are you?" You replied back harshly, not thinking before you spoke. Remembering quickly, it was too late, his tail went around your body before whipping the skin behind you thighs. You yelped, cursing the man-dragon above you.
"You!—" "Me what?"
He arose from his throne, walkijg menacingly to grab your waist before pulling you up to your feet. He turned you around, your back against his toned chest. His hand went over your chin and upper neck, pushing your head back to his shoulder with a smirk.
"Maybe I should teach you," he bite your collarbone before growling, "how to respect a dragon's cave."
"Gahh—Ugggg, you're so deep!—"
"Focus."
That same dragon had you bent over the same drawer you had stolen from, your clothes ripped from his sharp claws just where you soaked pussy was.Your back arched like never before and his hand still around your chin, his teeth biting and sucking on your collarbone with delight. His hips were slow but deep, reaching your cervix with long strokes, his dick sending you into a wave of pleasure.
"What's the answer?"
He'd made you write down the rules of entering his cave again, the pencil shaking vigorously in your trembling hands. The paper soaking up your falling tears as you begged and pleaded with the man above you. "Hahh— Sylus— please...! Please! I might just—"
His tail traveled down your clit, gently caressing it with the peek of the tail. "Write it down, or I'll do even worse." He threatened, and you obeyed, grabbing the pencil and harshly writing down, "I will be respectfu—"
"Ah!!" His hip gave you a sharp thrust, a warning to behave and write properly. His hand groping your wee cheeks to the point that you could feel his claws digging into your flesh. "You have one more chance." With every word, he thrusted harder until you shrieked, your body bending more forward to escape his powerful hips, you pussy squeezes into the life out of him.
Your hands went back, trying to push his pelvis away from you. "Hm?" He hummed, his eyebrow rising before you hear a chuckle, "Want me to slow down sweetie?" His voice was playful, yet you nodded quickly anyway.
"Too bad." 

He sped up, his hips snapping so fast with your to the point where it echoed in the room. Your hands banged on the drawer, lookijg for a way to soothe to intense pleasure that you were being given. You couldn't even speak, your face fucked out and your body slowly weakening.
"S-Sy...luss...I can't...! Please..." You begged, trying to find a better way to convince him to give you a break. His dick the was so deep that you thought that it was two dicks at once. It felt so huge, and more struggle.
The stretch was too much, you yelled, "Sylus! Why is it—" You gasped loudly, relent that he had two massive ducks in you at the moment, both of them lodged deep in your pussy. In that moment, you nearly passed out. "Ahh ah hah...hahh!!" You cried out, tensing, "Pleaseee..."
"You're fine, just one more." Sylus cheered on, his tail moving up to caress your back, travelling down the straight line. His tail met your ass, gently put slowly digging it into your other hole, "No! No no, please, i can't, please," Your whole body was shaking, your sweat coating your skin.
"Mhm, fine, for now." Sylus replied in a teasing tone before continuing to roll his hips into yours, and by that tight squeeze he knew that you were close. You stood a little, crying, "I can feel it!— I need to pee—Why does it feel like I need to pee?!—"
He reassured you, speaking in your ear, "It's normal, you're fine, just relax." You wasn't breathing at all. He grabbed your chin again before ordering you, "Cum."
Your orgasm hit you, your lungs not being able to take in oxygen due to the sheer force of your release. The intense feeling was still shocking you, your hands braking some of the wood of the drawer due to your grip. Your legs shaking like no ever before you felt his claws tap your chest, "Hey, Breathe."
You took a deep breath in before covering your mouth, instantly being met with fatigue. "I need a rest...I can't feel myself..." Sylus chuckled at your position, his hand goijg around your waist to carry you to his bed. "It's okay, you took both off my dicks, well done."
"I knew you'd come along," Sylus hummed, "so just relax my Queen, I'll take care of you.
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this is not proofread! i was too eager to post so sorry hotties!
@ aly4khq, do not plagiarise, translate or copy my work.
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icecoldbitchbird · 2 days ago
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“How so?” Andrealphus asked directly, his head cocked to the side a little as he gazed, questioningly across at Vassago. Andrealphus suspected that he already knew the answer — he was faltering. It were as though two halves of himself were warring. There was the usual side of him that flaunted his beauty and talent, desperate for praise and attention. Then there was whatever this shit show was. It was all Vassago’s fault, he decided bitterly. It was his sincerity that left the marquis wanting to deflect all conversation about himself. The stakes seemed too high…as though, if he were to indulge himself in the praise, he might show something far too genuine in response.
“…you truly believe a grocer to be equal in importance to a prince…?” he uttered the words as though barely believing that he had heard them properly in the first place. A genuine scoff slipped from Andrealphus’ beak, his head shaking a little at the sheer ridiculousness of what the Prince was saying. The simple truth was: a lowly imp would not survive 5 minutes in the tumultuous political landscape of the Ars Goetia — although, he was sure it would be entertaining to watch one try~ “You downplay your own contributions and talents, your highness,” the words slipped from his beak like a soft purr, a measured smile decorating his features. “I cannot speak for your childhood, but I, myself, have spent my entire life being prepared for my duties to the council,” he paused for a moment, “It is a lofty duty, and one that our kind have endless years of expertise within,” To think that someone could simply step in and perform the role was preposterous in Andrealphus’ eyes.
This, bizarrely, felt far more natural to Andrealphus. The two rarely saw eye to eye on topics such as this, but at least he felt more akin to the cold, level-headed, diplomat that debated within the council — not some flustered idiot that was so terrified of being authentically seen by the handsome man in front of him that he stopped functioning properly. “Ah, I see…so we are all equally replaceable…” he mused, “That’s not a very comforting thought, Vassago, makes me feel rather redundant.” After all, if Andrealphus’ life was measured entirely by his work. If died tomorrow and they held no struggle in replacing him then…well, what was his worth?
starter for the lovely @vassago-rp
The soft, demonic, glow of turquoise eyes reflected back at Andrealphus from the crystalline windows of his snow-covered mansion. An appreciative chirping trill hummed in his throat as he inspected his appearance — the substantial amount of time the marquis had spent preening in front of the mirror that morning had clearly paid off. There wasn’t a single feather out of place on his body. To others, his immaculate appearance was a sign of of his unconcealed vanity. Just the pompous theatrics of an attention hungry peacock. To Andrealphus, applying a delicate, subtle, swipe of eyeliner or adorning his body in luxurious silks and precious gems was the same as applying war paint and battle armour. Truth is, the bird would sooner be caught dead than poorly dressed. It was a power move. A weapon that could be weirded on the social battlefield. The icy-cold avian had found that social meetings were little more than a vicious battlefield, disguised as civility. The simple truth of the matter was that any minor misstep could damage your reputation — and there was nothing more important to most goetia than their reputation.
Thanks to his brain dead sister and her, tragically beautiful, bastard of a husband their reputation had been…on thin ice, so to speak. As the only member of his family who seemed capable of successfully utilising his intellect, it’d soon become his responsibility to oversee damage control. It was laborious. More than ever, the need to be perfect had began to weigh heavy as the diamond-encrusted tiara that sat atop his head.
The sound of the door handle squeaking softly snapped Andrealphus out of his thoughts — what an unpleasant noise. He really ought to get that damn thing replaced! The door swept open to reveal his guest of honour, Prince Vassago. The impish butler that had led the prince to the room bowed deeply before closing the door behind Vassago and fleeing to ready the tea. “Your majesty, I’m so glad you could make it~” there was a light-hearted ease within his words, the peacock bowing a little in a gesture of respect. Andrealphus then took a moment to allowed his eyes to linger on the prince’s appearance, the brilliant red feathers of the other man were vibrant against the backdrop of snow and ice. With a delicate sweep of his hand, Andrealphus gestured towards the table, two impish servants scurried to pull out chairs for both of the men, “Please, take a seat.”
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thymejot · 4 months ago
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I do appreciate how much Jason Gideon haunts this season of Criminal Minds
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mariocki · 4 months ago
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Play for Today: Under the Hammer (BBC, 1984)
"So. Tell me what happened."
"Well. It was me. I kicked it."
"Any particular reason?"
"I lost my temper."
"Who with?"
"I was having a... discussion about the painting and things to do with the painting with McClaren, sir, and, uh... it got out of hand."
"And you kicked the painting?"
"Yes, sir."
"Instead of kicking McClaren?"
"Yes, sir."
"I wish you'd kicked McClaren."
"So do I, sir."
#under the hammer#play for today#single play#bbc#1984#richard wilson#stephen fagan#classic tv#peter vaughan#michael aldridge#james maxwell#peter bayliss#stanley lebor#robert putt#bernard gallagher#david cardy#christopher fulford#harry ditson#john tallents#jill meager#delightfully drily witty play that's a sort of comedy of manners concerning the people involved in the upcoming sale of a potentially fake#van gogh at an auction house. at the beginning it seems like this might be a kind of upstairs downstairs piece‚ contrasting the lowly#porters who arrange and prepare the exhibition of sale contents with the posh managers and experts who float around inbetween them#that element remains but is sidelined a little to focus more on Vaughan's head porter and one moment of lost control which has far reaching#consequences for everyone. Vaughan is as excellent as he always was‚ a tragic portrait of quiet dignity meeting sheer pigheadedness and#unbending yet naturally servile nature. Aldridge and Maxwell‚ tho‚ are the scene stealers as the owner (?) and head expert of the auction#house respectively‚ a pair of upper class grotesques who nevertheless display surprising nuance and depth as the plot develops#(particularly Maxwell). less politically motivated than many PfTs (not that it is at all apolitical: communism‚ the soviet union‚ wartime#looting and princess Diana all figure into the story) but a genuinely very compellingly told and entertaining play that manages moments#of real sharp comic dialogue alongside a gloomier slant on the inevitability of dishonest dealings at every level
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oceanmoss · 6 months ago
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if i hear one more person talking about laser hair removal i'm seriously gonna start punching people shut the fuck uppppppppp i don't get the obsession i don't get going through all that bullshit because you're too scared to have hairy legs or a hairy vagina or whatever legit if you're soooo scared someone's gonna be repulsed by that then they're not even worth fucking lollll what is wrong with you . also what the hell are strawberry legs????? are we just inventing insecurities left and right now
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pinkrangerv · 5 months ago
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You know, every year we lose at least one dumb tourist in Nevada. Why?
'That big cave looks really interesting! I wanna go see!' That's a mine shaft. You were WARNED about mine shafts. THEY HAVE LARGE PITS YOU FALL INTO AND DIE.
'Oh hey that body of water looks like a great place to swim!' It's contaminated with mercury and twelve other heavy metals. There's signs everywhere. How did you miss this?
'I only need a small water bottle for a five-hour hike!' Buddy. Pal. I can pull that off, because I am chronically dehydrated and somehow survive it. (It's the fat, I think.) But trust me, normal people cannot do that, and even I drink water when I stop for lunch. You are normal. You will die slow.
'Hey, Pyramid Lake looks cool!' The local tribe has an entire set of stories about how if you hear babies laughing, the next day you will die on the lake. And at least one boat gets pulled under a year. The park has warning signs about that plastered all over it. Yeah, sure, riptide--but honestly, that lake even looks like it's gonna kill you, it has no greenery at all around it, it's just water and then desert, how are you this stupid?
'Aww, that bear looks so CUDDLY!' You know what, you're clearly unsaveable. Give me your kid, I'll find them a home with a loving adult who explains that forks don't go in light sockets. We'll hold your funeral. Your kids' new adult can explain that some people are just meant as a warning to others. They'll grow up to appreciate your sacrifice. We all will. You will serve as an example to future tourists to just, for the love of fuck, stay in the damn cities. At least there someone will stop you from ANNOYING A GODDAMN BEAR.
Really. If you come to Nevada, just...stay where there's sidewalks. You'll end up less dead.
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non-un-topo · 1 year ago
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When you get hit by a random powerful wave of nostalgia for like your first fandom ever
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crescentmp3 · 1 year ago
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hiii! 'tis me.
#i have returned from death (school). limbo‚ even.#i shall not describe it as hell thanks to my lovely Friend (trademark) whom lights up the entire room for me#despite probably darkening it for everyone else due to her apathetic and uncaring nature. oh she's perfect#ahem. not the point. and also very boring to the rest of you who do not know nor care about her#well! the day went fairly great. she (the Friend) seemed to really enjoy my gift and got embarrassed by it‚ which was my intention#she read through the notebook i prepared for her over the summer as a sort of diary directed at her and she really laughed at some parts#she seemed to like the keychain‚ i hope to see her use it#she also really liked the matching-with-mine astronaut that is both an eraser and a pencil sharpener and is already using it#and she ate the two chocolate bars (her favorites) i added into the box as extras.#she was also pretty impressed when i pointed out design choices i made for the inside of the box#so all in all. great day‚ amazing day‚ nearly perfect dare i say. god why does it rhyme. i hate it here#ahem anyway!#we also have new teachers that took the place of the old ones. of course many remain unchanged‚ but it didn't go without any new faces#notably‚ we have a new qur'an teacher‚ a new math teacher and a new literature teacher.#some other teachers were also changed but i have not met them yet so i do not know which#i am especially conflicted with the new literature teacher -#on one hand‚ he's great! very funny‚ very considerate‚ and quite a good teacher from what i've seen.#on the other hand i will also quite miss the old literature teacher.#she was nice! i hope i get to see her around the school#anywwy‚ i will also be missing the old qur'an teacher a lot. she was my favorite‚ and she is very kind-hearted#im fine with the math teacher i suppose. i liked the old one‚ and the new one seems a bit... extra? but i don't feel too strongly on it.#i heard the english teacher we had was replaced and the one we had left the school‚ so that's sad. i really liked her.#🌙rambling
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monsterblogging · 9 months ago
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"I know JK Rowing is a terrible person but her books are so good-"
You sure about that?
I mean, just for a start, have you taken a good look at her fantasy creatures lately? A whole bunch of them are straight-up based on malicious and dehumanizing stereotypes about actual people.
Remember the werewolves? And being a werewolf was made into a kind of metaphor for having AIDS?
And you know how AIDS was first associated with gay men? And how conservatives back in the day were claiming gay men were preying on children in order to convert them to gayness?
Remember how Fenrir Greyback preyed on children in particular? Yeah, she put that subtext in there. She was an adult in the 90's. She knew damn well what she was doing.
Remember the house elves? Remember how most of them loved to serve and needed to have a home and a master or else they just wouldn't know what to do with themselves?
Did you know that's literally what slavers in the American South said about the Black people they kept enslaved? Go look up the happy slave myth.
Do I even need to get into the goblins and the antisemitic tropes they're based on? No, folkloric goblins were not gold-hoarding bankers waiting for their chance to stab humanity in the back.
"But the characters are so good!"
Are you kidding me?
Most of her characters are pretty one-dimensional, including Harry. Her idea of making a morally complicated character is giving a tragic past to a bully. Numerous characters are little more than stereotypes. (Looking at Fleur right now.) Literally anybody, including you, can easily make dozens of characters just as good, if not better. (It doesn't exactly take a lot of character designing skill to go, "hey, actually, having a sad backstory doesn't make it okay to bully children" or "hey, maybe I should not base a character on the first stereotype that pops into my head.")
"But the rest of the worldbuilding!"
Sorry, but her worldbuilding is just as basic as her characters. Magical castles and secret passages are stock tropes. Magical people who keep their true nature secret from humanity is the premise of pretty much every White Wolf TTRPG. Most of her fantasy creatures are just common European fairy tale and folklore creatures with shitty stereotypes projected onto them.
I'm not saying "basic worldbuilding bad." I'm saying, you could do just as good, if not better, with minimal effort.
Also there's her magical bioessentialism, where only Harry's abusive blood relatives could provide him with supernatural protection from Voldemort. Rowling thus effectively declared that non-biological family isn't quite real family, and that abusive biofamily can give you some essential thing that a loving, supportive family that isn't related to you just can't.
The Hogwarts houses are one of the most insidious elements of her worldbuilding. The idea of being sorted gives you a little dopamine hit because wow now you have a li'l niche where you belong!
But the actual function of the houses and sorting system and the House Cup is teaching children to see each other as rivals, and ensure that the most toxic views of the upper class get passed on to every new batch of kids sorted into Slytherin.
Hogwarts effectively prepares children for a dystopia where magic serves to distract its citizens from how nightmarishly awful it is. Economic inequality is so bad that people like Arthur and Molly Weasley can barely afford to put their kids through school, casual sadism is just an accepted norm in everyday society, and non-humans are second class citizens. Rowling sorta acts like she thinks this is a bad thing with certain lines she gave to Dumbledore, but in the end, her special boy protagonist becomes an auror; IE, a defender of the status quo. So.
If you've never seen it, Lily Simpson's video goes into even more detail on how the worldbuilding of Harry Potter is actually incredibly fucked up, and how it betrays small-minded attitudes on Rowling's part. There's no separating the art from this artist, because Rowling's rotten values pour out of nearly every page.
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Yes, there are many things in Harry Potter that evoke feelings and inspire people, but there's absolutely nothing in it that this series has a monopoly on. You can find those same experiences in much, much better media.
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shotmrmiller · 1 month ago
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there are two modes to simon. handsy and handsy.
handsy is the gentle hold he has on your wrist when you're watching a movie on the couch, his thumb brushing your knuckles, tracing ever bump and curve. it's a cozy arm thrown over your waist, weighty enough to leave your side sore after, with his leg slid between yours while he snores into your ear after a long day's work. the hand on your knee under the table while eating breakfast, lightly squeezing when you ask him if he wants more.
and then there's handsy. his grip tight around the soft of your waist, fingers creating little divots into your flesh as he tries to slow the pace you've set, feeling his climax too close too soon. it's how he fists your hair and maneuvers your head to the side without much effort while you're on your stomach, the light prick on your scalp only adding to the pleasure, as he mutters into your ear if you can give him another one. (guess you'll die, then.)
how he paws at your arse when he's got you on your knees with your face dug into a pillow as he pistons his hips, the occasional slap of his balls onto your clit making your ears ring and calves tense almost painfully, until he pulls you up, his chest and your back slick with sweat and you come with his one hand around your throat and the other jerking little circles on your stiffened pearl.
the two touches are so different from each other, one a tender thing as if he's afraid to hurt you and the other wanting to hurt, but a different kind of ache, the one he will always soothe with his fingers, mouth and cock.
(call him a triple threat.)
whether you like it or not, you've been conditioned. soft and gentle means affection and care, similar to him bussing the side of your head every morning before work while rough and firm means you're about to be ploughed until you're left to soak in a bath to recover from the onslaught.
and you'd been prepared to take this secret to the grave, to not tell a soul how he'd pulled you out of a pool with enough strength to feel your rear shoulder sting and you'd just about moaned in broad daylight. or how he'd moved you out of soap's trajectory during the first meet by the wrist and if you hadn't been wearing a jumper, your peaked nipples would've been visible to anyone.
but naturally, things never go your way. he'd found out in no time and now he uses that knowledge to his advantage. a quick sneaky fuck in price's bathroom during a barbecue starts with a vicious tug of your arm. getting ate out in the back alley of a pub: giving your thigh a squeeze so tight it could bruise while you sip on the swill you call beer.
and every single time he's pulling your pants down or flipping your skirt up, you're already dripping with want.
now to get him to stop manhandling you like that when the 141 are around.
(soap's left like a deer in headlights after he forcibly sat your tipsy arse down next to him because "LT said to keep 'n eye on ye," and a moan had slipped past your lips unbidden and now the girls boys are fighting someone help)
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