#this became an essay oops

[shanicetjn]

In what order is ur fav Willy wonky?

Omg Kit- You can't just put me on the spot like that!! /light-hearted

If I really HAVE to choose from the films, it'll have to be Timothée Wonka - Johnny Wonka - Gene Wonka.

Info-dump below:

I grew up watching and getting obsessed with Willy Wonka through Johnny Depp from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005). I literally have watched that movie at LEAST 60 times and it's one of my favourite favourite films ever!

(I might be the ONLY one having this opinion but-) That film is the most magical thing I have ever seen as a kid and Mr. Wonka is just the most relatable person to me. Also, how can you not love THIS face:

That later introduced me to the book by Roald Dahl that the movie is based off of which I read religiously. I never knew about Gene Wilder's Willy Wonka from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971) until I started seeing the memes!

Fast forward to recent times- To the Wonka (2023) trailer that dropped last June..I initially thought it was a joke because I just could NOT believe they would still make Wonka stuff let alone a film. But no, it was real (and I watched the trailer a good 20 times).

Went to the cinema TWICE because I was so absolutely blown-away by Timothée Chalamet...It felt like I was transported back to my childhood and all that whimsy came back to me at full blast.

He's so beautifully interpreted...EXACTLY how I imagined younger Willy to be like. Literally reignited my love for Mr. Wonka of 20 years! And the most important thing to me? It's so absolutely surreal to see a Willy Wonka that is the same age as me.

After that, I finally got to watch Gene Wonka twice in the last 2 months after knowing about it for idk-how-many years. AND I love him so so much too..??

He's totally different to Johnny Wonka yeah but once again- What's not to love about and relate to an unhinged chocolate man that has murderous tendencies? >:3c

It was so fun to catch all the little details / references they put in the Wonka (2023) film from that movie! Also, it makes the transition from Timothée Wonka to Gene Wonka all the more tragic.

Sorry for such a long post and info-dumping but I just really wanna talk about him and the amount of joy Mr. Wonka has given to me over the years!

Willy Wonka never steals but he has certainly stolen my heart. ♥

[thewanderingmask]

obligatory scott and scar posting

[microwaveango]

what if everything i ever wrote was about siblings. what if every story i created was driven by the tragedy of growing up with someone who is as much a part of you as they are not, who you know will one day, somehow, be separate from you. what then.

[thisischaostragic]

i have been holding space for the Agatha finale (i’m in queer media) and am pleased to report that my feelings about it have shifted quite significantly. follow me, my friends, to a more or less coherent, very long text post at the end

primary thing: this show is very much about motherhood. idk why that didn’t totally register for me in the first half given how often they mentioned Nicky, but realizing this changed my analysis a ton. Billy doesn’t just remind Agatha of Nicky — Agatha loves Billy like a son. (i know “like a son” is an oversimplification, but I’m sticking with it for this post.)

with that, my thoughts on Agatha’s arc almost completely flipped. when Rio shows up in E8 and says she has to take Billy, Agatha is revisiting her deepest wound all over again. her reaction is harsh, but it’s not some long-simmering revenge plan or a calculated effort to hurt Rio. Agatha is literally just reacting to the fact that, after all of the almost-reconciliation, the love of her life is taking her son again. i think she was trying to get Rio to fight for her or to say the trade was too high a price and bend the rules. Agatha was trying to get Death to act only as her lover, and looks devastated when Rio actually walks away instead.

and so, when Agatha goes to the morgue trial and says that “sometimes, boys die,” she’s continuing that realization that Rio isn’t personally chasing her down and causing her grief. sometimes, death just… happens. and “out of Death, life” is largely about Agatha realizing that Rio did bend the rules for Nicky, but also doubles down on the Nicky and Billy parallels. both of Agatha’s sons were literally borne of Death and living on stolen time. loss is inevitable.

i think Agatha genuinely believed that Rio could have kept Nicky alive and chose not to. we know that Agatha blamed herself for Nicky dying (“the truth is too awful”). so Agatha, who was taught by her own mother that nobody would ever actually love her for who she is, probably thought that the love of her life just… didn’t love her as much as she thought she did. going back to E1, i think “you don’t have a heart” is equal parts about Nicky as it is about Agatha herself. her main takeaway is that everyone will betray her, even when they claim to love her, and so she hides behind power and a god awful reputation so that she can keep everyone at arm’s length and never get hurt again.

ALL OF THIS IS TO SAY: when Billy is about to die, Agatha almost retreats back into the version of herself she became after Nicky died, but she doesn’t. she turns around and faces the pain head-on.

and I want to take a second to appreciate how immensely hard that would be. Agatha spent centuries killing people so she could be powerful enough to stay numb. Agatha spent all of that time pushing away the love of her life, who still loves her, who still sees her fully, and who Agatha is clearly still desperate to return to. Agatha realizes, probably to absurd amounts of despair, that she was wrong about all of it. and she still turns around.

it’s not about Agatha randomly sacrificing herself for a last minute villain kind-of-redemption. it’s about Agatha breaking the cycle she’s trapped herself in for an unfathomably long time, admitting that she knows Rio couldn’t change the outcome, and acknowledging that, yeah, she actually does love this kid.

and honestly?? i don’t think Agatha becoming a ghost counts as killing her. she’s literally still around, doing stuff, picking up brooches (👀 Rio wya), and getting a second chance at… not motherhood, exactly, but caring for a child. (and a queer child! and the idea of Agatha, who has been queer since the *1600s*, getting to tell this gay kid over and over again that there’s nothing innately wrong with him makes me actually sob.)

HOWEVER! i maintain some criticisms. i think Jen deserved to have an actual fight with the doctor who bound her. (the oops! it was Agatha All Along twist was… complicated. i have mixed feelings. essay for another day, but i wanted Jen to have rage time that everyone was just cheering for.)

i needed Death lore. how is she physically with Agatha so often if, as Agatha states, 120 people die every minute? is she Death the cosmic entity, or are green witches sort of responsible for decay on earth?

some of the plot elements were severely under-developed, and frustratingly, the vast majority of the underdeveloped plotlines had to do with Agatha/Rio’s romantic relationship, Agatha’s mother, and Agatha’s reasons for killing people. (the fact that they said she’s a siphon in interviews and not once on the show will never stop baffling me lmao.) i find it very frustrating that a LARGE chunk of the underdeveloped stuff relates back to Agatha’s queerness in some way.

however… i am willing to be generous about some of that, because i find it difficult to believe that this *extremely queer* creative team actually just disregarded major queer plot elements. i am far more inclined to believe that they were operating under a hostile corporation and pushing as far as they could, and in that case, they did a fucking phenomenal job.

i genuinely think that the way they landed the show opens the door for them to… dare I say it? … give Agatha/Rio a happy ending?? ghost Agatha literally need only show up to Rio’s house or cave or dimension or whatever and be like “heyyyyy, yeah that kiss was forgiveness and also i’m solid enough to use my hands now” and it would be believable. the fact that it would take them only 15 seconds to give us two fucked up lesbians having their version of happily ever after is actually pretty cool

anyway, this is an abridged summary of how my feelings abt the Agatha All Along finale went from like a 4/10 rating to an 8/10.

[ladythornofrivia]

🍒 The Devil’s Tongue 🍒

Michael Gavey x Reader (PART TWO)

summary: you transferred into Oxford after moving out from your country for a better change, and unexpectedly meeting Michael Gavey in a quiet library, leads to something more.

warnings: creepy vibes from michael gavey, reader being oblivious, stalking, michael being horny, p in v sex, loss of virginity, jealousy, misunderstandings, obsession, belt kink, panty kink, scent kink, voice kink, breeding kink, michael gavey being a smartass, michael gavey is horny for math, michael gavey is a smartass, clueless reader, nerdy yet hot michael, lust at first sight, sex in the library, sex on the table, kitchen sex, oral sex, cam girl, fingering, sex during tutoring session, reader teasing, reader being a dominatrix in bed, food porn.

a/n: i got sick from the trip. oops. enjoy the new chapter! oh, and the one where the reader is being shoved out of the elevator, that one is a true story, by the way. I was being shoved out of the elevator by this guy I met at the cruise—all because I didn’t give him the attention. not only that i got stood up twice--one on the hangout, the other on my 27th birthday. and he thinks it's weird that i like hotd and said ewan mitchell looks weird. good thing i don't have to see him again.

Somehow, to think you met up with Michael Gavey again in the library, now that Oliver Quick is gone. By gone, Oliver might have gotten bored of Michael Gavey, you assumed.

There was a party last night, and you didn’t attend. Not that you’re too good or above for the party; you just hated the noise at the moment. You wanted a different kind of ambience to set the mood. Needless to say, you earned a lot of cash on that night.

With moonlighting as a camgirl, things have gotten easier. If you haven’t left your parents, things would’ve been worse if they found out.

Despite the cruel years, it became a simple memory.

Sitting beside you, Michael offered another crunchie--delicious as always. It's a good pair with hot cup of joe to pair with the sweet chocolate. Although you learned that Michael hated coffee, he'd rather prefer tea, a tea that tasted bland to you. You needed something strong--Starbucks would've been great, but a coffee from Oxford? You can't pass up to try the flavor of coffee from another country you've set yourself in.

Missing the opportunity would be as stupid--all opportunities have been unlocked, all thanks to you being as a famous camgirl. My, oh my, you are moonlighting as a naughty girl in bed time--no parents constantly sneaking in being nosy as hell. You did lie to them--half-lie--by claiming that you have been acting nuts at night--doing all the prayers and bible study sessions, which is a total fucking lie.

You never liked bible studies or prayers before Sundays. It's a hassling lifestyle to live in--to live so virtuously while shaming everyone's lifestyle who aren't religious.

People with an aspect of a pretentious goody-two-shoes was the last thing you need. Oliver Quick is a goody two-shoes; the boy obsessed with math has caught your eye, plain and simple. A bit eccentric, but sexually frustrated, as you guessed before the moment your eyes met his baby blues.

Three weeks later, the magical aspect of Oxford hasn't begun.

"Crunchie," a voice said, tingling your skin and poked at one side of your waist with a slight tickle.

Beside you, Michael Gavey showed up with a slight grin on his face, oddly satisfied this morning.

Who the hell smiles in the morning?

"Not an early riser, I see," he commented.

His pleasant tone prickled in between your thighs.

"Oh yeah, fine and dandy--needed a cup of coffee," you said, grouchy. "I was studying all night--got the assignment wrong."

"What kind of assignment?"

"It's, um, it's an English essay," you lied, pen twirled between your agitated fingers. "This professor is really getting on my nerves when it comes to the essay. Acting all superior and shit--telling me I keep getting my annotations wrong and that I misinterpreted the meaning of the symbolism and theme in the story. I hate pretentious professors like that. No matter where I go, some things never change. They always have favoritism, it's fucking weird."

Michael chuckled. "Perhaps you have been partying?"

"Partying? Please, I needed peace and quiet for some alone time to concentrate on my studies. If I want to have a good future, I had to have at least a C or B. I fucked up bad."

Seems like the lie went smoothly as always.

"So, have you been at the party last night? Sneaking in since you didn't get your invite?" you asked.

Michael placed his hand over his cheek, nearly covering his lips. "I stayed in my dorm."

"Ah, doing math homework, I assume? Anything math related? Science into the mix, maybe."

Michael stayed quiet.

"I'm not really into math. I thought it's confusing," you commented.

Michael chortled. "Perhaps I could tutor you this afternoon. Usually I don't like teaching the numbing idiots of the subject matter. One guy was staring at the girl’s tits while doing times tables. Times tables! Need them to fuck off and do something valuable for once!”

You stopped what you're doing and glanced at him. And it clicked an idea into your head.

“Am I also the numbing idiot?”

He shook his head. “You might be, if you are. These knuckleheads at the library, all they’ve done useless flirting, not studying.”

“That’s what library is for, Michael. To study. No harm in a little flirting.”

Come to think of it, Michael at the library with you sounds nice.

He smiled a little, though not in a friendly way.

"Sure," you said, eating the half crunchie. "Why not? Teach me, so I could get better grades. Life is already hard enough as it is. So got any crunchy to start the session? It will take a while.”

~~~

For the past an hour or two, Michael tutored you. Although as excruciating painful to hear numbers and equations with letters, you couldn’t help but to stare at the cute nerd. Ah, a cutely frustrated nerd, maybe. His curlish dirty blond hair, thick framed glasses and his smile when he talks about math, these thoughts never spare you freedom. You are trapped, trapped by thirst that needed to be quenched.

With your cherry-red boots and skirt and a rosy pink lace top, you opt to show your cleavage by tucking your mini top downward, crossing your legs, coiled your apetite. With your hair flip, or hair twirls, biting your red lips, you were hoping Michael would give a comment or two, but tutoring was his priority, but since you wanted his attention, asking questions about math and equations would definitely keep him on his seat. His eyes on you.

His cute nerdy glasses. His cheeky and toothy smile.

Masturbating seems to be an option, but what happens if that option is no longer helpful? You wanted an alternative approach.

Maybe masturbating in public would be nice, but you’re smarter than that.

But each time you attempt to flirt, he seemed clueless. But he did at one point had a crush on a news anchor. And so your mind mentally made an account.

Dear Diary,

Michael Gavey didn’t notice me. How the hell am I supposed to get his oblivious attention on me? I hope I don’t die as a lonely virgin. I’m a bad bitch; I just want to fuck him so badly, watching his glasses fog up and lips soak at my aching pussy, whimpering underneath me and my dominance.

Then it clicked you.

However, you knew right away of this information when he liked watching news—the news anchor. Although she has a kid, the green envy seared and punctured your belly.

Maturity is what men and guys want.

Though it didn’t stop you from chasing Michael’s attention. Days gone by when you try a different style. That is until you met this guy, a popular guy, who’s name you not care—who complimented and dubbed you as “the hottest girl in campus.”

An idea conjured; if you practice with a guy, maybe it would be easier to make the first move on Michael. Thus, you went along with his flirting, but at the end of the night, you felt sure you were ready, until he took you out in the hall, and make out with you. But you didn’t care, you didn’t want to kiss the dude, you wanted to kiss Michael.

You felt nothing in his erotic moves.

When he tried to get into your underwear, you shoved his hands away. Thus, the little adventure with the guy, and ended up shoving you out of the elevator.

It was a pathetic night.

Nonetheless, your camgirl starts within an hour or two—took a shower and dressed up as a sexy office worker, with fake smart glasses with your tight office shirt loosened two buttons for your cleavage to show, with pencil skirt and stockings and red bottom heels.

On the cam session, did a little roleplay, and with feral thirst, legs spread apart, ripping your stockings and reveal your wet pussy. At the thought of Michael, his face, his voice, two fingers inserted in your cunt, as your hips formed a gyration, moaning aloud.

Michael…

You nearly screamed his name, but your climax came quicker.

All the comments flooded in, and more cash has stocked into your bank account.

You wondered if chasing Michael was even worth it. Hopefully one of these days, he’ll finally notice you.

~~~

Michael shoved in a few cash onto your new stream. Dressing up as a news anchor or an office lady, he found himself turned on, how your skin was gleaming with arousal, office glasses crooked from humping and gyrating, grinding your hips in fast pace like a feral beast that you hid beneath all the girlish and cherry red clothing, a clothing that outlined your perfect hips and perfect waist.

A horny devil.

He pretended his hand is your hand, your mouth, your throbbing, wet cunt, tightened around his bulging cock. The way he fisted his cock so much he couldn’t stand watching you flirting with that stupid boy.

Michael had a plan and he couldn’t wait to be inside you, but the question is…

When?

Taglist: @toodlesxcuddles @kittendoll05 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @angeljcca @marvelescvpe @heavenly1927 @snh96 @fandom-maniac-anime @httpsmenace @domithebomi @moonseye @faesspace @halsteadstyles @liannafae @ammo23 @buccini555 @watercolorskyy @taangie @qardasngan @justyelena @jolixtreesunn @thought--bubble @dixie-elocin @galactict3a @momowhoo @saturnssrings @dani5216 @kimsubin05 @blackgaladriel @theboleyngirlx @elaratyrell @fun-loving-peach @jmliebert @ilikechocolatemilkh @20thcentwriter @sepherinaspoppies @venmondiese @snowprincesa1 @parttimegay @lcolumbia1988 @witchy-v1xen @1800-fight-me @fan-goddess @persephonerinyes @anukulee

[youzicha]

Thinking about that that "slop accelerationism" post, and also Scott's AI art Turing test.

I also hope AI text- and image-generation will help shake us loose from cheap bad art. For example, the fact that you can now generate perfectly rendered anime girls at the click of button kindof suggests that there was never much content in those drawings. Though maybe we didn't really need AI for that insight? It feels very similar to that shift in fashion that rejected Bouguereau-style laboriously-rendered pretty girls in favor of more sketchy brush work.

But will we really be so lucky that only things that we already suspected was slop will prove valueless?

As usual with AI, Douglas Hofstadter already thought about this a long time ago, in an essay from 2001. Back in 1979 he had written

Will a computer program ever write beautiful music? Speculation: Yes, but not soon. Music is a language of emotions, and until programs have emotions as complex as ours, there is no way a program will write anything beautiful. There can be "forgeries"—shallow imitations of the syntax of earlier music—but despite what one might think at first, there is much more to musical expression than can be captured in syntactical rules. There will be no new kinds of beauty turned up for a long time by computer music-composing programs. Let me carry this thought a little further. To think—and I have heard this suggested—that we might soon be able to command a preprogrammed mass-produced mail-order twenty-dollar desk-model "music box" to bring forth from its sterile [sic!] circuitry pieces which Chopin or Bach might have written had they lived longer is a grotesque and shameful misestimation of the depth of the human spirit. A "program" which could produce music as they did would have to wander around the world on its own, fighting its way through the maze of life and feeling every moment of it. It would have to understand the joy and loneliness of a chilly night wind, the longing for a cherished hand, the inaccessibility of a distant town, the heartbreak and regeneration after a human death. It would have to have known resignation and world-weariness, grief and despair, determination and victory, piety and awe. In it would have had to commingle such opposites as hope and fear, anguish and jubilation, serenity and suspense. Part and parcel of it would have to be a sense of grace, humor, rhythm, a sense of the unexpected and of course an exquisite awareness of the magic of fresh creation. Therein, and therein only, lie the sources of meaning in music.

I think this is helpful in pinning down what we would have liked to be true. Because in 1995, somebody wrote a program that generates music by applying simple syntactic rules to combine patterns from existing pieces, and it sounded really good! (In fact, it passed a kind of AI art turing test.) Oops!

The worry, then, is that we just found out that the computer has as complex emotions as us, and they aren't complex at all. It would be like adversarial examples for humans: the noise-like pattern added to the panda doesn't "represent" a gibbon, it's an artifact of the particular weights and topology of the image recognizer, and the resulting classification doesn't "mean" anything. Similarly, Arnulf Rainer wrote that when he reworked Wine-Crucifix, "the quality and truth of the picture only grew as it became darker and darker"—doesn't this sound a bit like gradient descent? Did he stumble on a pattern that triggers our "truth" detector, even though the pattern is merely a shallow stimulus made of copies of religious iconography that we imprinted on as kids?

One attempt to recover is to say Chopin really did write music based on the experience of fighting through the maze of life, and it's just that philistine consumers can't tell the difference between the real and the counterfeit. But this is not very helpful, it means that we were fooling ourselves, and the meaning that we imagined never existed.

More promising, maybe the program is a "plagiarism machine", which just copies the hard-won grief, despair, world-weariness &c that Chopin recorded? On its own it's not impressive that a program can output an image indistinguishable from Gauguin's, I can write such a program in a single line:

print("https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Gauguin,Paul-Still_Life_with_Profile_of_Laval-_Google_Art_Project.jpg")

I think this is the conclusion that Hofstadter leans towards: the value of Chopin and the other composers was to discover the "template" that can then be instantiated to make many beautiful music pieces. Kind of ironically, this seems to push us back to some very turn-of-the-20th-century notion of avant-garde art. Each particular painting that (say) Monet executed is of low value, and the actual valuable thing is the novel art style...

That view isn't falsified yet, but it feels precarious. You could have said that AlphaGo was merely a plagiarism machine that selected good moves from historical human games, except then AlphaGo Zero proved that the humans were superfluous after all. Surely a couple of years from now somebody might train an image model on a set of photographs and movies excluding paintings, and it might reinvent impressionism from first principles, and then where will we be? Better start prepare a fallback-philosophy now.

[qprstobin]

Stobin Different First Meeting AU where they go to prom together. This was meant to be an au post and turned into a mini fic oops (written completely within a tumblr post so sorry for the poor quality)

(edit: realized I should link the fic I was inspired by for those who don't follow me and so didn't see me reblog it earlier)

Steve doesn't necessarily want to go to prom, right? Like yeah, he'd been imagining it for a while, but now that he was very, very single it just didn't have the same shine that it used to. And he really wasn't ready to start dating yet. However, he didn't want to just, not go to prom, and also knew it would seem really weird (and pretty fucking sad) if he didn't go.

Which leaves him in a conundrum.

He thought for a while that maybe he would go with one of the junior cheerleaders. While he didn't have any close friends anymore, he was still friendly with plenty of people. There were girls that wouldn't be going to prom unless they had a senior boyfriend - some he had even gone on dates with in the past who wouldn't think a single prom date meant that he wanted a new girlfriend.

However, he is pretty sure most of those girls would have... other expectations for the night. And honestly? He isn't quite sure that he was ready to get back on that horse either.

... Not that he thought women were horses.

He's pretty sure men are normally the ones called horses in riding metaphors.

Anyway.

That left him stuck. He couldn't just not go to prom, but also didn't want to wind up trapped on an actual date with someone. So who could he ask?

His solution ended up coming from an odd place.

Robin Buckley was... quite honestly, kind of a weirdo.

She was cute, in an alternative sort of way. She never took any of his shit (he wasn't completely sure she even liked him) but also reluctantly laughed at the snarky shit he said under his breath during their Film History class. And not in the fake giggly way girls did when they were flirting, but didn't actually care about what he was saying, just the way he said it. She actually seemed to think he was funny. Even if that revelation seemed to piss her off.

The only reason he was even in Film History that semester - and therefore, knew who she was - was for the easy A. He got to watch movies in class, and watch movies for homework. He was willing to plow through a couple of shitty essays in exchange for a class that he didn't feel like a complete idiot in.

(Well, he was pretty sure Robin thought he was an idiot about movies, but just because he had trouble remembering the names and shit of characters, didn't mean he couldn't analyze the themes, fuck you very much, Buckley.)

They had gotten assigned a project together early on, and it hadn't been completely terrible. She had quickly taken over doing most of the writing portions, but hadn't thought all of his ideas were terrible. By the end of the project he thought they were even sort of having fun together.

He'd always been one to try his luck, take a little more than he was given. So, after that assignment was over, he started sitting next to her in class, not wanting that easy, if sharp, camaraderie to end. Robin rolled her eyes at him and asked him what he thought he was doing the first time he did it, but she never sent him away.

They ended up chatting more and more during down times, passing notes to each other and sharing sly comments under their breaths during the movies. Steve often had trouble paying attention at school, his mind easily wandering away, and it was almost as bad during most movies, but Robin helped keep him on track.

The class turned into one that was done for the easy grade, a last ditch effort to improve his already hopeless GPA, and became one he actually enjoyed.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of going to prom with Robin. It made the night seem a little less unbearable.

He thought about making a big deal out of asking her, because he knows that's what girls (and even Nancy) had enjoyed for past dances. He quickly scrapped that idea, however, because not only did he not want to put pressure on her like that, but also she seemed to hate public spectacles like that.

Or at least when aimed at her, they both enjoyed watching drama unfold in the halls a bit too much to say she hated it completely.

So Steve waits until the end of the day, their film class being their last, to pull her into an empty classroom. She follows him without question in a show of trust he didn't realize she had in him. The notion warms him, and for some reason makes it more difficult to get the question out.

"Why do I feel like you're about to try to sell me drugs or something?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He squints at her in offense.

"Why is that your first assumption?!"

"I don't know! Why else are you pulling me out of the hallway all secretive like, making sure no one followed us, into an abandoned classroom," she asks, throwing her arms into the air.

"The classroom isn't abandoned, it's the end of the day! Also, who does drug deals on campus, that's just stupid?" He asks rhetorically, before waving one hand through the air, as if trying to erase the current thread of conversation. "That doesn't matter, you're distracting me."

"Well then, get on with it! Some of us have practice we need to get to."

"It's like talking to the kids," he mutters to himself, "Whatever. I wanted to ask - will you go to prom with me?"

That stops Robin up short. There's panic in her eyes now, though Steve isn't sure what exactly put it there. Was his reputation that bad that even band geeks are terrified of getting asked out by him?

"You want to go on a date? With me?" she asks slowly, disbelief coloring her voice, though it doesn't hide her unease.

"No, I want to go to prom with you," he scoffs, "Not go on a date with you."

"That is a date, dingus! The person you go to prom with is literally called your date!"

"Okay, sure, maybe, but I don't actually want to date you," he said, rolling his eyes at her.

Like, okay, he understood his reputation for being... what did she call him last week? A 'huge effing rake'? But that didn't mean that he was trying to date any girl that looked in his direction. A lot of girls looked in his direction. That was too many women, even for him.

Robin relaxes a little at that.

"Then why are you asking me to prom instead of someone you actually want to date?"

"Because!" he says, resisting the urge to flail his hands back at her. "I don't want to date anyone right now. Most people I ask are going to expect all these things from me - they're going to want dinner, and at the very least a kiss at the end of the night if not more, or another date the very next day. Because Steve Harrington is supposed to want those things!" He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair to calm himself. "But right now? I really don't."

"Well then, what does Steve the Hair Harrington actually want?" She had relaxed fully at this point, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"I want to go to prom with someone I consider a friend, someone who makes me laugh," he says after a moment of silence. "I want to dance badly to really corny pop music and drink just enough spiked punch that I don't remember how much I hate wearing any sort of tie. Then I want to go get milkshakes or go see a really trashy midnight horror flick, just because I'm having so much fun I don't want the night to end."

That small smile has grown into a reluctant grin on Robin's face. It makes her eyes shine and her freckles pop. Steve thought that if he was in a better place, if they had met at a different time, he could have fallen in love with her.

But they had met now instead, in some shitty public school elective course, and she was the closest thing he had to a friend that wasn't a snotty middle schooler.

"That sounds... like a lot of fun, actually," she says, mischief sparking on her face. "Who would've known the hidden depths hidden behind all that hair."

"Hey!" he protests half-heartedly, unable to keep a grin of his own off his face. "So what do you say? Wanna go to prom with me?"

"I guess," she sighs, acting like it was such a trial to go to prom with him. Him! But her next words make up for it. "Since we're friends, and all. However, I still expect you to buy me dinner, though you can keep the kiss goodnight to yourself."

Steve can't help the giddy laugh from spilling out of him. For the first time in weeks, he is actually looking forward to prom.

[alianoralacanta]

Hi Alianora! I am curious to know your thoughts on Ferrari and PR. Particularly how they do damage control. 2022 comes to mind, and this year's triple header as well.

Maybe it's because I don't keep up with other team statements as much but Ferrari seem to be less... transparent?? with their struggles as a team. Binotto in 2022 comes to mind when he would pin the blame on his drivers and say that nothing needs to change.

Also Charles in particular plays the PR game more than Carlos. I mean, this year in China, Charles said the two of them had talked and everything was fine, but then when asked, Carlos said the complete opposite and that they hadn't actually sorted it out. Oops.

I remember specifically Charles saying the team was "extremely united, no division" in 2022 but then multiple statements of his in 2023 under Vasseur imply otherwise.

Ferrari seem to be more willing to throw their drivers under the bus when shit hits the fan and it's more clear that the team messed up big time. Vasseur will have no problem defending Charles in weekends where Ferrari aren't a complete disaster, but in situations like the triple header, he's willing to shift the focus on the drivers.

Is it a Ferrari pride sort of thing?

Ferrari and PR

Firstly, apologies for the long delay in replying. This is my 3rd attempt at finding a coherent frame for my thoughts on the subject. I hope this works. If it does not, please request clarification, reframing or simply to have another attempt.

Also, fair warning: long essay. This essay is 6060 words long, excluding headings. As such, it will be divided into multiple “read more” sections. Tumblr only allows this by posting the essay multiple times, with a fresh addition each time. Please wait for the “Essay complete. Hope this helps” before reblogging. Firstly, PR is not a monolith. Humanity is not a monolith with one unified opinion of what everything is and how everything works. They agree and disagree on what is appealing in a statement made to them on a given subject. Thus, PR can and often is tailored to particular audiences. Furthermore, different groups that produce PR value different things. Section 1: What does Ferrari value? (Ferrari myth PR)

Ferrari has been stricter about PR than any other team. Part of this originated with Enzo Ferrari himself, for he was careful to ensure that nothing was said that undermined Ferrari's political position or offended his sense of what the speaker's job should be (driver or engineer). It has to be said that this didn't put the boundaries in the same place as any modern team's PR approach. While complaining about the team or car being slow was considered just as wrong then as now, a driver saying they'd been cautious because the race was long would also be considered bad. Enzo considered it his job to worry about the car, and the driver's job to press the car as hard as possible. (An engineer who suggested putting less emphasis on the engine in favour of the chassis would fare no better). On the other hand, skipping a sponsor event to go kart would probably meet with his approval. (Whether he would have regarded Max's sim racing as similar enough to treat likewise is unknown, since race driving software wasn't very sophisticated in the 1980s). Later in Enzo Ferrari's career, there began to be more emphasis on Ferrari the myth. Niki Lauda was not particularly appreciated while he was at Ferrari because his approach was so different from Enzo's ideal, but Niki became far more appreciated after that because Enzo realised what he'd done had, in fact, resulted in Ferrari's myth strengthening. (The title did no harm either). Gilles Villeneuve encapsulated what it meant to augment the Ferrari myth. The intervening decades ended up condensing the traits that became part of "Ferrari myth PR": - humble and modest - fast - respectful of opponents - downplaying team psuedopolitics - eloquent and concise when needed - competing with style, verve and boldness - able and willing to do the impossible - believing in the team even when it does not believe in itself - remember one represents a dream - remember that, whatever one's nationality, one represents the honour of the tifosi The price for defying PR in the Enzo Ferrari era was variable and fickle, due to the perennial psuedopolitics behind the scenes. (The situation under Fred Vasseur would have been considered relatively calm back then. Some parts of the Mattia Binotto era, not so much).

[faintingcouchguy]

everyone's trans in the last unicorn

Oops it's the supermoon and I stayed up all night writing what'll have to be the first of 2-3 effortposts on transness and gender roles in Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn. This one is about the three main characters' trans-coded introductions, plus Daniel M. Lavery's 2017-2020 writing on transition as intertexts/reception of the book. All the rest under the cut.

"We all know the unicorn and Molly Grue are transgender," I said flippantly to @literarymagpie yesterday, and it turns out maybe we do not all know this, so now it's finally time I write the essays I've been drafting in my head for five years about The Last Unicorn and the things Peter S. Beagle didn't know he knew.

My secondary source for this theme is Daniel Lavery, who, in his 2017 essay on gc2b binders, described the first stages of his transition as follows:

I knew nothing of the subject. I became aware of the subject. I immediately, and carefully avoiding too much direct thought about the matter, sought consummation with it. Since that day, the subject has rarely been far from my conscious thoughts. It has felt, alternately and sometimes simultaneously, thrilling, calming to the point of near-stupor, destabilizing, reassuring, necessary, mundane, intrusive, overwhelming, compulsory, and desirable.

Beagle's last unicorn lives in a lilac wood, and she lives all alone, oblivious and content for over a century. Upon overhearing that there may be no other unicorns left, she considers her identity and questions her place in the world for the first time. Here she is on pp. 6-7, quite certain at first that she belongs in her familiar forest:

"Oh, I could never leave this, I never could, not even if I really were the only unicorn in the world. I know how to live here, I know how everything smells, and tastes, and is."

[...]But suppose they are hiding together, somewhere far away? What if they are hiding and waiting for me?

From that first moment of doubt, there was no peace for her; from the time she first imagined leaving her forest, she could not stand in one place without wanting to be somewhere else. She trotted up and down beside her pool, restless and unhappy. Unicorns are not meant to make choices. She said no, and yes, and no again, day and night, and for the first time she began to feel the minutes crawling over her like worms.

I'm not even sure I want hormones. I'm pretty sure I don't want them, because I think about going on hormones all the time, and those thoughts always end in some variation of "I can't, not ever," and if I really wanted to try hormones obviously I wouldn't keep thinking about how I can't try them. I think about them all the time and have to constantly stop myself, so I must not really want them. You know how when you're profoundly curious and sick with longing about something, it usually passes pretty quickly.

—Lavery again, from Something That May Shock and Discredit You, "The Stages of Not Going on T" (p. 60).

Speaking of T and not going on it, Beagle's next introduced main character is Schmendrick. Schmendrick is a wizard living in an insecure, stagnant, uncomfortable state that is explicitly symbolized by the fact that he can’t grow a beard and would like to. I don’t even need to make a case here. (I will anyway, though, in another installment.)

Our other main ally is Molly Grue, "a thin thorn of a woman" who stands out as the steel spine of Captain Cully's otherwise all-male, ridiculous crew. She's tough, smart, grizzled, kicked around by life. Her relationship with Cully is ambiguous; her feelings are clearly not warm. When Schmendrick scatters the merry men with a chaotic summoning, Molly's the only one to land on her feet and follow him into the wood.

Then she saw the unicorn. She neither moved nor spoke, but her tawny eyes were suddenly big with tears. [...] "Where have you been?" she cried. "Damn you, where have you been?" She took a few steps toward Schmendrick, but she was looking beyond him, at the unicorn. [...] "Where have you been?" Before the whiteness and the shining horn, Molly shrank to a shrilling beetle, but this time it was the unicorn's old dark eyes that looked down. "I am here now," she said at last. Molly laughed with her lips flat. "And what good is it to me that you're here now? Where were you twenty years ago, ten years ago? How dare you, how dare you come to me now, when I am this?" With a flap of her hand she summed herself up: barren face, desert eyes, and yellowing heart. "I wish you had never come, why do you come now?" The tears began to slide down the side of her nose. The unicorn made no reply, and Schmendrick said, "She is the last. She is the last unicorn in the world." "She would be," Molly sniffed. "She would be the last unicorn in the world to come to Molly Grue." She reached up then to lay her hand upon the unicorn's cheek; but both of them flinched a little, and the touch came to rest on the swift, shivering place under the jaw. Molly said, "It's all right. I forgive you." "Unicorns are not to be forgiven." The magician felt himself growing giddy with jealousy, not only of the touch but of something like a secret that was moving between Molly and the unicorn. "Unicorns are for beginnings," he said, "for innocence and purity, for newness. Unicorns are for young girls." Molly was stroking the unicorn's throat as timidly as though she were blind. She dried her grimy tears on the white mane. "You don't know much about unicorns," she said.

(pp. 96-98)

It leaps out to me that the crux of Schmendrick's jealousy is not the wish that he could touch a unicorn. More emphasis is placed on his envy of Molly's emotional experience—the recognition, the sobbing relief. Schmendrick needs this magnitude of affirmation too, but won't get it until the end of the book, and from a different front. More on his weird gender stuff in the second and probably third installments of this that I have to write next.

I'm not the only one to note this scene's transgender resonance. I first got it, once again, from Lavery, who borrowed Molly's despairing cry for a monologue in Something That May Shock and Discredit You. "Do You Know Athena Used to Be a Tomboy?" spoofs transphobic responses to trans men coming out, Greek drama style: the listener is "encouraged" to remain a woman by the goddess Athena (I didn't want to be a girl either, but then I learned to love myself, and to become the tutelary of Athens. Have you tried being the tutelary of Athens?); a Chorus: ("Well, of course we'd all be trans now, wouldn't we? Anyone born nowadays, that's just a given, they just—someone tells you at school, or something—everyone's trans now."); and a Deuteragonist, whose concern-trollish speeches gradually reveal more and more intense personal gender anxieties. From the final meltdown (pp. 188-189):

I mean, if I were thirty years younger—if I were twenty-five years younger—if I were eighteen years younger—God, if I were just ten years younger—if I were a year and a day younger—if you'd asked me just five minutes ago, four and a half even, if I'd picked up on the first ring instead of the third, I'd transition. Hell, I'd transition. Oh my God, I wish I could transition. Ask me again, but sooner. Come back yesterday. Come back a week ago. What good are you to me now, when I am—this? Where were you when there was still summer in my heart? Come back a month ago, a decade, but come back to me before I had to forgive you. Just come back and ask again; I'll wait if it takes forever this time.

I don't have much to add to that, really.

Next post will have to talk about the transformation of Amalthea. I'm not the first to observe that it's a potent dysphoria metaphor, but I've got more to unpack about Schmendrick's perspectives if he's trans, and there's a lot to dig into re. the love story with Prince Lir. I've also got some intense takes cooking on the tower scene with Haggard, if I get there. Anyway, thanks for reading! And thanks @endetithei for sharing this book with me as much as you have. (Sorry that this is how you'll find out I was up all night.)

[cottoncandysprite]

you cameo'd in the new todd in the shadows video

Oop

Yeah. I very recently became a fan of Somerton's "work" (been a super longtime fan of Todd tho so that's kinda wild), literally only subscribed to him last month after casually watching him for about a year. I just watched the YOI video right after rewatching the series a couple weeks ago bc it popped up on my feed bc of algorithms.

What Somerton did makes my blood boil because in recent weeks I actually was really inspired by what I thought was his writing in starting my own media analysis essay (iykyk), only to find out that he stole all of it and the more iffy parts of his essays that I ignored started to connect into a pattern of him just Being a Huge Dick. So yeah, as a writer, an academic, a fan of media analysis, a queer person, and a former fan of his, I'm super fucking pissed.

I don't want to go back to the video to find the full comment bc I don't want to give that jackass more views, but it was me genuinely talking about how much YOI meant to me as a queer teen and I'm kinda upset that I put it under a video that really did not deserve it.

I haven't watched Todd's full video yet (I still have like an hour to go on the hbomb one) but from what I gathered around that timestamp I'm glad Todd used me as an example to prove that shitbag wrong lol. Get his ass Todd

Anyway if you want some recommendations actually good queer video essayists, my favorites are Alexander Avila (formerly AreTheyGay, currently has a similar breadtube style and very cinematic direction while discussing aspects of queer and online culture), Matt Baume (talks a lot about gay film/Hollywood/sitcom history in particular which I find fascinating), Lily Simpson (reviews "trans episodes" of various tv shows) and Kaz Rowe (my current favorite, has a really cool aesthetic and talks about everything from general history and myth debunking with queer/feminist focuses to victorian bullshit to golden age Hollywood history)!

[taesspark]

Keeping Score

drabble #4 from the Spellbound series

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: enemies to lovers (but mostly enemies so far oops), hogwarts au

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none

You roll your shoulders and stretch your neck to no avail. You must’ve developed this impenetrable ache when you were hunched over your Potions essay last night in the common room. Or maybe it was when one of the idiot chasers on the Quidditch team (surprisingly not Jungkook this time) hit you between the shoulderblades. Either way, you are not having a good time, and this time it has more to do with the physical pain of sitting against this rickety, unsupportive library chair than the mental pain of working on a project with Jeon Jungkook. 

“Need some help?” Jungkook grins at you from across the table. The both of you had been working on this project for a while now, and you just now notice how few people are left in the library. 

You scowl at him, cursing the day McGonagall decided group projects were the new thing. “Don’t mock my pain and suffering, Jeon.” 

You massage the back of my neck and wince at the permanent crick that had taken residence in your already exhausted body. 

“Try rolling your head around,” he says. You can’t tell if he was joking or actually trying to help, but then he starts rolling his head around. “In circles like this. It always helps me.” 

You frown, but you roll your head slowly in a circle just as he did. Halfway through, you’re struck by a stinging pain. “Ow, ow, fuck.” 

“Are you okay?” Jungkook leans over the table and reaches toward your neck, as if to examine it himself. You swat his hand away. 

“Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing or something?” He offers, unfazed. 

“I’ll be fine. It’s just-” You attempt to stretch your neck again “-really annoying.”

It’s more than annoying. It hurts like hell. But you’re not about to tell Mr. Jeon “Go to the Hospital Wing” Jungkook that. If you went to the Hospital Wing everytime something hurt, you’d never leave. 

Jungkook stands up. You stare up at him blankly and ask, “Where are you going? We’re not done yet, and I am not doing this entire thing myself.” 

He doesn’t answer, instead walking around the table and standing right behind me. “Y/N, I know you like to pretend to hate me and whatever, but what if I said I could solve all your problems?” 

“I highly doubt that, Jungkook.” You deadpan. “And what do you mean pretend to hate you?” 

“Trust me, just this one time.” 

“No thanks.” 

He sighs. “Listen. What I’m about to tell you is top secret information.” 

“Top secret?” You repeat, bewildered, craning your head up to look at him. Jungkook is a bit red in the face. Although you’re not sure how you got yourself into this impromptu secret-spilling with him, you can’t deny that you’re curious. “This better be good.” 

“You can’t tell anyone.” You sneak another look at him over your shoulder. He’s serious. Even the sparkle in his eyes is dull. “I mean it.” 

“Okay, fine. I won’t tell anyone.” 

“So,” Jungkook starts slowly, “my mother suffered from a lot of aches and pains when I was a kid. She became really interested in all sorts of home remedies, massage therapies, herbal treatments, the sorts. And she taught me all of it.” 

You don’t say anything for a moment, just processing that Jeon Jungkook, Quidditch Extraordinaire, Hogwarts’ Golden Boy, the Doofenshmirtz to your Perry the Platypus, was well-versed in massage therapy of all things. You also don’t mind letting Jungkook simmer in nerves as he waits for your reaction. 

You turn around in your seat fully to face him, watching with pure joy as he shifts awkwardly on his feet. He avoids your gaze, all but hiding behind the palms of his hands. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” he mumbles. “I told you because I thought it might help.” 

You try but you can’t hide your shit-eating grin. “Jeon Jungkook. Are you offering me a massage?” 

He sticks you with a pointed look. “Don’t make this worse than it has to be. I’m only offering because the Quidditch team needs you uninjured at the game this weekend.” 

You open your mouth to tease him more, but all of your thoughts are drowned out by the unbearable pinch in your neck. With a grimace, you turn back around in your chair and gesture to your neck. 

“Okay, sure, do it. Work your magic.” 

The second Jungkook’s hands brush at your neck, you start to realize that maybe this isn’t such a good idea. First of all, you’re in a very public library, even if it’s nighttime and most students are back in their common rooms. Second of all, your project has been abandoned midway. If you don’t finish tonight, you’ll have to meet up with Jungkook again. Third of all, isn’t it weird? To have Jungkook massaging your neck? You couldn’t say. You’ve never been in this situation before. 

The moment Jungkook pressed a finger onto a specific point on the back of your neck, all of these concerns whooshed out of your head. Suddenly, the fact that you’re in a library seems trivial. Your eyes flutter closed at the next touch. 

It’s like your body is made of buttons, and Jungkook knows exactly which ones to press. It’s too good, like bite-your-lip-so-you-don’t-moan-like-a-weird-freak good. 

“You good?” He says softly after a little while. 

You mumble something intelligible, eyes still closed. He laughs but continues doing his magic—literally. You think he took out his wand for a moment, and after that, a wonderful, cold sensation spread throughout your back and shoulders. 

You don’t open your eyes until after he stops. He actually has to say, “You can open your eyes now.” 

The overwhelming smugness all over his stupid face meets you when you open your eyes, and it’s enough to make you cringe in embarrassment. 

“So. How do you feel?” He asks, settling back into his seat across from you. 

You purse your lips and busy yourself with shuffling your papers around. 

He rocks back and forth in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself. The relief in your neck was enough for you to let him have his moment. 

“Thanks, Jungkook.” You stare stubbornly at the parchment that you had been working on before.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” He’s enjoying this too much. 

“I said thank you,” you snap. 

Stupid Jungkook and his stupid skills. It’s not fair that he’s good at everything, even something as random as massage therapy. 

The smile on his face is warm, but still, he says, “You don’t sound very grateful.”

“Don’t push it.” You roll your eyes at him, and if possible, his grin widens. In your absent thoughts about slapping the grin off his face, a thought strikes you. You grin back at him. “Now that I know about all your wonderful...skills, I sure hope that information doesn’t somehow fall into the wrong hands.” 

Jungkook’s smile falls. 

“Imagine the people I could tell,” you whisper, relishing the momentary fear you catch on his face before he replaces it with casual nonchalance. 

Y/N: 1. Jungkook: 0.

Fine, you suppose Jungkook gets a point for massaging your neck for 10 minutes. 

“You wouldn’t,” Jungkook says. “Not after I made you feel like heaven on earth.” 

“I think you give yourself too much credit.” 

“Some would say I deserve the credit.” 

“Your mother, perhaps?” 

“You, actually,” he all but leers at you, “and those noises you made just now.” 

He gestures at your neck. 

Fuck. You thought those noises were in your head. 

The corners of Jungkook’s lips curl up at the lack of an immediate comeback. 

Y/N: 1. Jungkook: 2.

A/N: I haven't updated this series since Jan 2022 because life got busy (grad school) and I started writing an original story. This has been collecting in the dust for years, so I figured it's better to post as is than not at all. I may do the same with some other fics, but no promises.

Taglist: @kneel-begyourpardon @flowersgirl02 @chimchoom @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered

[andhumanslovedstories]

Hello! I love your blog very much. I too am a second degree nurse. I just graduated from an ABSN program and I'm struggling to get my foot in the door anywhere despite good grades + honor society membership + in state license already secured. I live in NYC and the nursing shortage here is CRAZY but for some reason no one wants to talk to me. Would you recommend home health nursing for someone in my situation? I did my preceptorship in the ED and that's 100% where I belong, but the bills are really piling up and I have no prospects. How long did you do home health before you went bedside? Thank you for any advice you have!

(Disclaimer though for all this, I'm across the country from you and have no idea the landscape of nursing jobs in NYC.)

I worked in home health for 18 months. If my goal was to get to the hospital as quick as possible, I didn't need to be there that long. I wasn't in any particular rush to move on. Plenty of people worked less than that and got hired at a hospital, I think something like a year was the average. I know the different between sending out my new grad resume and sending out my home health nurse resume was night and day. As in: literally anyone wanted to interview me.

I'd encourage you to at least apply and see if you can interview. You get to interview the company right back, and that'll let you know the kinds of work they expect from you. There are two main types of home health: the kind where you visit a lot of patients in a day and the kind where you're with one patient for the entire shift. The first kind is doing stuff like dressing changes, medication management, or periodic assessment. The second kind is more like general caregiving with nursing related requirements. I mostly did the second one, and worked night shift. So I fed a patient dinner, I gave them a bath, I got them dressed for bed, then tucked them in and stuck around until morning for their needs in the night. But within that was trach management, seizures, G tubes, medications, central lines, ongoing assessment, all that stuff that got this person nursing hours. I'm not gonna lie--it was often very very boring. I read a lot of books.

(btw west coast disclaimer again, but if you're willing to work nights, you'll get hired more easily. Everyone everywhere in the world doesn't have enough night shift coverage. also, oops! this got long and became an essay on home health!)

For downsides, in home health you can get limited training and orientation before you're alone, responsible for a patient. And then it's all on you. I had some gut-dropping moments early on where I encountered something I didn't know how to handle and didn't know how urgent it was. There's supposed someone you can call at all times, but multiple times when I did call, no one picked up. It can be super stressful and frankly dangerous as an inexperienced nurse. Luckily, many times you have the patient's family as a resource. It's likely they've been doing this years longer than you have. Though it's worst thing in the world when you wake someone up at 3 am because you're unsure and concerned, and then have that person explain in a really supportive tone of voice that these frequent, very brief seizures were probably just hiccups. Hypothetically speaking.

You can get too entwined with the patient and family's lives. It's hard to call out sick because you know no one can cover you. It's easy to cross emotional boundaries. Imagine spending 40 hours a week with someone and their family. They'll occupy a spot in your brain.

And I don't think it's a great place for a new nurse to stay for years and years, just for like professional development reasons. You won't get exposure to a variety of patients (unless you work that other type of home health in which case enjoy seeing eight different patients a day, hope traffic doesn't suck), so it's easy to forget stuff you just learned. I never had to think about transfusion reactions until I started at the hospital and shit now it's relevant all the time. I had to completely relearn how to hang an IV piggyback. Plus, since you work alone, you don't get the chance to see how other nurses work. It's hard to figure out a profession when you practice in complete isolation. It's easy to learn bad habits and have no one ever correct you.

But there's a lot I like about home health. You really do have a perspective on patients and patient care that is unique to home health and long-term care. In the hospital, you don't always get that long-term perspective. If you work with someone for a while, you can track how they progress or decline. Why do some clients stay at home for years and others keep going back to the hospital? What's different about their conditions and cares? You see all the work it can take to keep them steady. That's perspective that easy to lose. It helps you put the patient on a timeline that extends beyond the hospital. If you click with a patient and/or family and work with them for a while, it can be very satisfying working with them because you see so clearly the impact you're having.

Also! I read so many fucking books! I listened to so many podcasts (played so so softly). I knitted and learned sudoku and practiced yoga, looked up vacation spots, put in my grocery orders, and organized my playlists. I also could research and research and research. I had time to look up everything about every condition my patient had, and once I felt more comfortable with those, I moved on to looking up whatever other disease process and patient experience seemed interesting. I'd make myself a little curriculum and, after my patient was tucked in, and be like "tonight's class is vlogs about having a trach."

There were plenty of shifts where I bustled all fuckin night, and sometimes those shifts seemed to be in one endless hellish row, but often I had a lot of time to myself that I could spend however I wanted, as long as I was still in the room with the patient, able to meaningfully hear and see them, and keeping up with the night routine. I fucked around a lot and got paid for it because the job is to be available when needed, and you're not always needed. (I'm not saying slack off! I'm just saying even colicky babies sleep peacefully now and then.)

Anyway jesus christ that got away from me, but like please know that I was in your exact place, and I know how much it sucks and how crazy it makes you feel because I THOUGHT WE WERE SHORT ON NURSES DON'T ANY OF YOU FUCKERS NEED A NURSE, and know that all the other job hunts after this should and will be easier than this.

[wingsthephoenix]

oc-tober day 11 - symbolism: sun and moon

hi!! i keep being busy but! this day i have. a really important example to talk about!! my first ever d&d character, lydia archana!!

when i first made lydia back in 2017, it was using stats from the most notoriously homebrew d&d wiki there was: https://www.dandwiki.com/ . she was still surprisingly tame for what i could've done; she's effectively a paladin to the left, being an angel (race) solar knight (class).

she worshipped pelor, god of the sun, for 2,000+ years.

and that was all she knew.

until within the campaign she learned that she also had a connection to the moon goddess, selune; her mother was, in fact, an angel of pelor, while her father was an angel of selune. sealed within a locket she thought was a pendant was a moonstone ring, a note from her father, and a picture of lydia as a baby with her parents.

and then she put the ring on.

and promptly had an existential crisis. (/silly)

from then on, as a bonus action, she could put on the ring and switch to being a lunar knight, using the same resource pool her class gave her for her abilities to cast from a small array of spells she had at her disposal. she was enforcing this new connection she had w the moon goddess, along w meeting her herself on at least one or two occasions in the name of saving the world.

and then she became an eclipse knight under the light of the eclipse and got really sick buffs that i didn't use. for myself .at all oops HSKDLJHSDLKGHSDGKJLSDH BUT LIKE. ECLIPSE LYDIA!!!!! THE SUN AND THE MOON. IT WAS SO SICK I WAS SO HAPPY I'D BEEN WANTING IT FOR MONTHS SHE GOT TWO PAIRS OF WINGS LOOK

(art by @/towserdrake on twitter, commissioned for me by my partner @madbox <3)

and then, three years later at the start of the next arc, she contacted her gods in the name of attempting to grant her best friend and party member, tobias, extra protection before entering his hometown of vard.

and pelor effectively denied her, saying tobias already was to ascend to angelhood after his death and that he couldn't protect the man any further.

and then lydia questioned him on this,

resulting in (what he assured was temporary) a revoking of her sun powers.

(above art by @psikind , below picrew can be found here )

to speedrun the rest, she's spent the entirety of this arc in a religious crisis, questioning her god of over two milennia and gaining a new perspective on her goddess of . like. five years. and also realizing that even after being told selune was bound to his will, selune sent an angel to vard with a sending stone as backup. she was still doing what she could.

the moon will sing a song for her. im so normal do you understand this. her arc has literally gone from divinity vs. humanity (speedrun: she's a combat medic and has an image of perfection she tries to maintain but instead she's human and learning to loosen up with the party and there's so much to this i'd have to write an entire separate post. which i might do at some point it deserves a goddamn essay)

(art by @sparklelight3 )

hi im really normal did you know that

[twelve-nights]

kin mem dump / i try to explain the mess that is my doll-solver timeline

Everything is under cut because this is going to be LONG. I apologize ahead of time for the likely disorganization lmao,, I don't have to energy to clean this up like a proper essay

"I" here refers to Doll btw,

It's probably obvious already but I was pretty canon divergent, although some of the things aren't confirmed or contradicted by canon, so I guess it could still be canon but probably unlikely.

I'll get to the weirdness with the Solver (and the "solver family tree" i made) at the end, so here's the other major differences:

The universe was a simulation. Or at least I'm pretty sure it was something like that. There's no way that the Solver should be able to change the properties of stuff using code or open up [null] black holes if it wasn't.

I became close friends with Uzi. Also I didn't die in episode 7. This friendship happened after what should've been ep 7 and it started after I let her keep the keybug after barging into her room. I remember telling her to talk to me later (which I honestly wasn't expecting her to do, but she did) after she told me that "[the keybug] was the only answer to what was wrong with [her]".

Yeva wasn't dead. I don't remember how I found her or when but she had survived in her core like Nori did. I'm pretty sure it happened at least a few months after Cabin Fever Labs though.

And finally, here is the "Solver family tree" and my attempt to explain it

Basically, the original Solver was copied into (infected) Cyn, which then mutated and became the thing in canon. Only Cyn's Solver and copies of that has an affection towards N/V/J/Tessa. That was later directly copied into Nori and Yeva during the experiments.

What the Crucifix Patch did in my canon was basically get rid of its "murder everything"ness and stopped a lot of the overheating problems (which in turn weakened it). I consider mine and Yeva's "strain" of it to be sort of separate from Cyn's, but since the virus doesn't just copy its "base code" and copies EVERYTHING into the new host (including memories), I do have a few snippets of memories from both Cyn and Yeva. This is also why Uzi's Solver has the same opinions towards N/V/J/Tessa.

Also, the Solver was a separate program and basically was like a half-person in your head fighting for control. Constantly. You overheat more than normal, even with Copper-9 being almost freezing

Anyways, Yeva and my copy of the Solver was a lot less murdery (although it still needed oil often) and we could kind of negotiate with it since it didn't want to murder everyone. I unfortunately did not learn this until after Cabin Fever Labs. Oops.

But yeah, I eventually formed a bit of an alliance with it and it would usually manifest itself as a security camera tail or wire coming out of my neck. Uzi's Solver fucking hated mine after realizing it was on our side and would try to fight it so much. Too many times did N and the others have to try to split us apart lmao,,

I have a bunch of other scattered memories that I'm not sure where I can fit an explanation here, so feel free to send in an ask or something :>

Oh yeah, I should probably explain why I say I kin the Solver.

Technically, I guess I'm only my own Solver but because that was a copy of an altered copy of an altered copy, I do have some memories from Cyn and Yeva. It's kind of just.. weird computer logistics...? So its easier to say I just kin the Solver than having to explain the weirdness of it in my canon lmao,, It's really hard to explain robot things in human terms lol,,

tagging @anon-coke since you were curious about this :}

[the-moon-lullaby]

Hi! How about some domestic and nsfw hc for Rayan? The sandy-skinned god deserves some love too 😆

Domestic Life with Rayan

N/A : This took a little while to write, sorry you had to wait dear !

Warning : NSFW under the cut

Goes to the Cosy Bear Café every morning before heading to Anteros Academy to have a little chat with Candy and enjoy a cup of coffee with her (also if she needs to and that he has the time to do so, he helps her to put the tables outside)

Sometimes, when he’s done with his classes of the day, he comes to the Café and sit in corner, sipping on a drink, while he’s preparing his next classes, grading some of his students’s essays or simply reading a book

He always order something different to drink because he wants to try everything Candy put on the menu

Grocery shopping with Rayan is so funny because he has his little list and it always begins with him following it diligently but he’ll always end up wandering around the aisles (and Candy looses him in the supermarket)

He and Candy often end up buying everything but what’s on the list lmao

Loves perfumed candles, there’s dozen in their apartment (I JUST KNOW THIS, and if Candy looses him during grocery shopping, he's probably picking up some)

He likes cleaning days  and he’s very particular about the cleaning products he uses (once again he spends so much time in the supermarket choosing them)

He often puts on jazz or (modern) classical music in the background while he’s working or reading 

He knows all the tea about the neighbours and he shares it with Candy (he’s very good at small talk and at connecting with people, therefore my man end up being told everything that’s going on in the building lol)

Likes doing online shopping with Candy (whether it’s for him or her)

Watching documentaries (documentaries on Ancient Greece or just historical documentaries in general and that’s just a personal intake ‘cause I love these lol)  together while cuddling on the couch with Rayan combing her fingers through Candy’s hair

Actually, loves playing with Candy’s hair when they’re cuddling

Random compliments all the time (like complimenting her outfit or just tell her that she’s the most beautiful woman he met)

naps together became a habit, especially during more stressful times of the year

also sleeps in on Sundays and would probably make a brunch with Candy afterward

Rayan wearing his glasses when he reads or when he’s on his computer and Candy going feral because of this (sorry but the illustration of him for that Valentine’s Day event, LORD HAVE MERCY)

He’s often the one that organises the dates : he love trying new restaurant and I think he likes gastronomic cuisine since he finds it as tasty as it is pretty 

He also likes the kind of dates that allow him and Candy to show their creative side (like the date in one of the Valentine’s Day event where they went to a workshop to make perfume, that was so sweet btw) 

He likes to go out with Candy whenever they can but he also enjoys when they stay home together for some quality time

𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 :

When it comes to oral, he’s a giver. He’s not really the one to tease but he likes taking his sweet time doing so

He likes to receive it too though and if Candy wants to get on her knees, he has no objections 

however he loves it the most when it happens in the morning (the morning wood oops) or at his office at Anteros during an unexpected visit 

About that, he may or may have not fucked Candy on his desk and it may have happened more than once (I had to do this one, I MEAN GUYS)

Candy trying on his glasses for fun and him realising he has a thing for this because she look so hot with them

Would moan but lowkey you know ? Like he isn’t that loud but he doesn’t restrain himself either (And I just know this man has a deep voice so it’d be music to Candy’s ears) 

However, he likes it if Candy gets loud and it makes him go even harder 

Praises. A lot of them. Also call her with pet names during sex (might let out a « good girl » and ahhhh)

he owns a copy of the Kama Sutra (I am not saying that he’s into that or anything - even though he really might -  but he definitely read it because well, as art enthusiast, of course he wanted to know a little more about the art of making love)

As much as he loves admiring Candy’s face, he loves backshots (because it allows him to hit it deep)

Breading kink ? (Maybeeee)

Despite all, I don't think he's really into being called Daddy (even tho he has that "Daddy aura", whatever that means, idk myself) because it'd make him think of that Freudian theory lol

I'm sorry I am taking so long to post (I didn't expect to receive this much requests but I'm also glad to see that the fandom is still alive lol) but I'm trying my best to answer them all !

[apompkwrites]

I'll be honest, at this point there are so many different au's of the black sheep that I just gave up on keep up with all of them I'M SORRY

BUT I also just had this fantasticly amazing ideia (that I think I haven't seen yet?) for an older sibling!draconia who is several years older than Malleus and who aided Lilia in raising the little prince

(tw to romance, heartbreak and a long asf essay with extremely rushed and underexplained angst, also many spelling and grammar mistakes probably)

Older sibling!Draconia who technically grew up with Lilia, learning with him everything know

Imagine older!draconia training with lilia and the other trainees (is that the term?) because they're the next in line! they king/queen/regent has to know how to defend themselves if needed!

And during their boring theorical classes, were they've been stuck in a room with some old lady rambling on about how oh so amazing the heir to the throne (them, older!draconia) is instead of the history of their lands (that they may or may not already know like the back of their hand —in their defense they had a lot of free time once upon a time, no friends and the royal library has a whole lot of books) for the past 3 hours

And then suddenly they look at the window and boom! there is Lilia and some other 2 friends they made during their training and outside classes, all of them making really funny faces that make older!draconia want to laugh their soul off, but they can't! they're in front of a teacher and they have to show some respect! oh dang it the lady thinks they're laughing at her so she just decided to end the class, what a shame

Now the 4 teens (however many years that is in fae logic) are running into the forest for a little break with the lovely animals and everyone's having a great time

And yeah sure everything's fine everything's great royal teenage life blah blah blah falling in love with your best friend Lilia and having a secret relationship bc you're still a royal who has an arranged marriage to come blah blah blah you have a little brother now!!!!! and he's a cute little round egg!!!!!! awsome!!!!!

But OMG!!! wait!!! There's a war coming!! Quick get your armour, sowrd and shield and go help the generals with strategies!!! Oh Great Sevens finally!! the war is over and you're victorious!!!! but then again you have a whole lot of newly downloaded trauma, you're now parentless and friendless (they're all dead yay!!!) and apparently the elders are putting you in for marriage??? right after you lost your parents and your friends???? oh but wait your amazing and loving (is she? she is here) grandma is fighting for your freedoom

Oh oops too late tho!!! it became too much and now you're running away from your home (???) after the first next few decades, leaving behind only a bunch of letters, cold sheets, a heartbroken lover, little brother and grandma and a huge mess

But of course older!draconia wouldn't leave them just like that, they just go and pull a Maleficent (Live Action), they keep taking care of their family from the shadows

Making sure little Malleus doesn't die because of how reckless and careless Lilila still is with simple and domestic chores bc he trained all his life to go to war and doesn't know how to wash the dishes

Doing their best to comfort Lilia duting those nights full of nightmares and tears, sending a gentle breeze and some cute little birds his way

Making sure that their grandma isn't tiring herself out by pulling constant all nighters (faes also need to get some rest from time to time grandma!) by blowing out the candles with some cold breeze form outside, so that way Maleficia would get tired of having to always be lighting up the candles again and just go to her room because when did it get so cold in here?

Of course she knows it is her oldest grandkid, this is far from being something natural and who else would have the guts to do that?

Overtime Malleus starts to gradually forget more and more about his older sibling who he loved and loves so dearly, something that pains him and everyone around him that knew them, mainly Maleficia and Lilia

A few thousand years later Lilia also finds a baby somewhere and he still doesn't know how to take care of a child properly what the hell Vanrouge if you're gonna take a kid in at least know what you're doing- no stop it (older!draconia) leave me alone

And because Lilia still doesn't know how to take care of a baby, and because he still has royal duties with the Queen and Malleus, of course older!draconia goes and does their best to help as much as they can without being noticed

And of course Lilia knows they've been helping him, he has known for the Sevens know how long, he can still feel their presence in the gentle breezes that caress his cheeks and hair every other night, ca still feel their loving and longing stares, looks and glances on the back of his head everytime he turns his back

He just doesn't get why they don't just come out and show themselves, it's so obvious they're the ones who've been around this whole time, hiding in the shadows and in the deeppest parts of the woods, being the origins of the many tales, miths and legends the smaller towns have, giving life to the little things thrpughput the whole forest, helping however they could while still doing their best to hide away from the cruel world they live in

At least for him it's obvious, but it is also sad

It's sad to watch as Malleus breaksdown every other night because he's progressively forgeting about his beloved older sibling as time goes on and Lilia I don't want to forget about them

It's sad to see the way the Queen's lingering gazes on some places, like the library, the one tree they always used to take naps on top of, or the hallway where their old room used to be; to see the way she sighs as if she just lost way too many years of life with just a glance at an otherwise regular tree

It's sad to see himself on the mirror, to watch and remember and relish in everything they once had, in everything they could've had; it's sad to feel himself yearn for someone who's doing their damned best to stay hidden, because there's no way they will come put just like that; it's sad to remember all the times he wished to any and every god out there to allow him to turn back time so the he could get one chance, only one more chance to make things right and to make them want to stay and to help them, that was all Lilia wished for most nights, but alas, it never worked

But what was even sadder was watching people come and go, even more so the palaces' servants; it was sad and upsetting, watching all these people that watched him grow up, that watched them grow up, that raised all of them and that knew every kid there like the back of their hand go and be replaced with new people, people who didn't know anything, who were there only because

But Lilia does his best; he does his best to raise Malleus right, even if sometimes he needs their help

He does his best to ease the Queens' burdens while being a mere servant and caretaker, even if sometimes he need their help

He does his best to keep his stress, nerves, anxieties and nightmares at bay, even if sometimes he needs their help

And he does his best to be the best father figure he could just for Silver, even if sometimes he needs their help

Even if Silver reaches an age where he asks way too many question, normal behavior for children of any kind, and one day makes way to many questions about the stranger in his dreams, the stranger that he remembers seeing in his fogy baby memories, the stranger prince Malleus sometimes talks about very very vaguely and why are they showing up on my dreams father?

And even then, Lilia does his best to keep unwanted emotions under the warps, because he doesn't need this child to know everything just yet, but he still takes his sweet time teeling his son about them

About the previous heir, who ranaway because of the pressure, about their old friends, who he loved dearly and to this day holds close to his heart; he tells him as much as he can, without telling him much

And with that, Silver's curiousity is satisfied! He knows who the kind and pretty stranger is, he knows he doesn't need to be afraid of them, because his father trusts them, and if his father trusts them then they must be a very good person. So yes, Silver's curiousity is satisfied

When one day Sebek Zigvolt comes along, Lilia doesn't really complain, ot is after all one more distraction from his aching heart and one more friend for his little child and his little prince, who's heart has been coming to a calm for the past few decades

So Lilia is happy when they all become very good friends, because this way Malleus' heart won't be hurting as much as Lilias' is, Silver won't ask as much questions about the kind stranger (who turned put to be the previous heir to the throne) and all in all Sebek is a very cute child, very loud but also very cute

Older!Draconia wants to smack Lilia into the next universe tho, because Vanrouge what the fcuk are you doing with 3 kids you still can't cook for shit you mf-

***

anyways this is everything and this is very long sorry for the whole testament

also do you think I can be ⚜️ anon if that one still isn't being used, bc this is not the first time i've brainrotted in your inbox and I don't think it will be the last (it happend back when you first started your black sheep au, I dont think it had an actual name back then???)

dw i sometimes forget about some of the black sheep au we have too

i. am going to go feral for older draconia who falls in love with lilia but runs away bc they don't want their life to be upturned for an arranged marriage.

and them living like live action maleficent!!!! and yk how silver is very similar to aurora? imagine that silver actually meets older draconia in the forest the same way aurora does in the live action <33

and some angst as always. imagine the first few nights that older draconia ran away. imagine lilia who stayed up late into the night, sobbing openly at the fact that the love of his life is gone. he begs and pleads to any god that will hear him to bring them back. he doesn't think he can live without them...

and older draconia is just a few feet away from their old home, sobbing alongside lilia as they beg and plead to any god for them to be reunited, in this life or the next.