#this essay took forever to write and research

[bellamygate]

I wish everyone who sTuDiEs PsYcHoLoGy a very shut the fuck up

[girl-in-the-mirrorbluenight]

Okay I've been thinking about this pretty much all day since I saw the hbomberguy and then todd in the shadows video i just have so many thoughts. While I wouldn't necessarily call myself a Video Essayist™ (I've only made a few over the years) as a youtuber and someone who has made video essays i definitely have more experience than the average person. There are so many things that stand out to me about this whole debacle i dont even know where to start.

First I want to just give a little insight into the process for making video essays from people who've never given it a shot and just how absurd it is to do the type of plagiarizing James has done. Video essays take a fuckton of research, even for pretty simple topics, but on top that you also have to make them with the medium of video in mind. it's really not enough to just take an essay you would write for a class and read it out loud. the flow is different, you have to have accompanying visuals, often background music, etc. They're a beast to make. My Twisted video for which i used literally two sources for my research (Sondheim's books and the musical Twisted) still took days of thorough reading, note taking, watching the musical, watching the musical again, watching the musical and taking notes, cross-referencing my notes, etc. For videos that synthesize multiple sources or are covering multiple pieces of media, that time goes up exponentially. Then there's writing, recording, gathering clips (often one of the most difficult parts depending on how obscure what you're talking about is), and editing. Even for a silly video like my Glee video, I still had to do a ton of research to make sure I was getting things correct, and that was a funny tier list about freaking Glee! There is just no way you could come up with a thorough analysis by just copying and pasting. Which brings me to my next point.

I think James may have thought (or more likely rationalized) what he was doing as analysis based on like the vaguest definition. When you do any kind of analysis, what you're doing is taking research from multiple different places (news articles, primary sources, existing analysis, etc.) and coming to your own conclusions, whether that's a synthesis of those different sources, or applying it to a specific thing like a movie. Really simple example is my Twisted video where I take Sondheim's writing and apply it to a specific piece of media (in this case Twisted). I'm using existing work but coming to my own conclusion. In the Spies Are Forever video, I took existing research about the Lavender Scare and the Hays Code, including primary sources from the time period, and applied it to the musical Spies are Forever. What James seem to do is take a bunch of existing scholarship, copy and paste it all together and then come to a "conclusion" that was not actually his own original thoughts but either "facts" he completely made up or something that didn't do anything to actually link his other "sources" together. I can see why it has the veneer of analysis, but making up a random "fact" you think might be true is not the same as a drawing a conclusion based on research.

I also think Todd made a really good point in the part about England's propaganda campaign against Italy around 9:30 that it's just really bad video making to not include examples of images from this so called propaganda campaign. I have a ton of examples of news clips, government reports, etc. in my SaF video about the Lavender Scare because...it was a real historic thing that happened! If something was supposedly so widespread and not even that long ago, you can probably find evidence of it somewhere. Kaz Rowe (who is also linked in the queer creators playlist on hbomberguy's vid) talked about this a lot in their video about tiktok misinfo where people often make these outrageous claims but the thing is if something so outrageous happened (like people constantly shitting on the floors of versailles), other people at the time would probably be talking about it somewhere. It's a big red flag when someone makes such bold claims and has no evidence to back it up.

Putting this last section under the cut because I go talk about WWII, Nazis, and HIV/AIDS a bit (watch Todd's video for some more context) so if you don't want to see that post is over here.

Lastly I wanted to talk about something else Kaz brings up in a lot of their videos when talking about historical topics and that is the tendency to dehumanize people of the past, often as unwashed, unintelligent masses who would just do any ridiculous disgusting thing because they were so stupid and disgusting. There are a lot of things to criticize about the people of the past and their actions obviously, but we cannot forgot that they were in fact, people. Real individual people with their own lives and dreams and ambitions and individual opinions and they have never been and never will be a monolith. Claiming anything is broadly true of "the victorians" or "the ancient egyptians" or whatever other vague historical group you want to talk about is usually a lot more nuanced than "they all thought or acted in this one particular way". I'm certainly not a historian and i've only done one history focused video but James Somerton seemed to make a lot of broad historical claims in his videos that I think fall into this trap.

The one that stood out most to me in Todd's video was the claim about Nazi body standards which is a whole mess in general that Todd goes into for a while, but the way he talks about WWII soldiers was just like...weird. Besides the fact that a lot of his claims about Nazis seem to be bordering on glorifying them and their aesthetics (gross), I think we should remember that WWII was less than a century ago. There are still over 100,000 surviving WWII vets in the US. My grandfather who was in the Army during WWII (he didn't serve overseas but he was an enlisted soldier I can literally look up his enlistment records in the national archives online) was a real person who I obviously knew personally and who died fairly recently. To think he enlisted because he was jealous of German fitness or whatever and wanted to prove how tough Americans are is an absolutely hilarious thing to think if you knew him. I'm sure there are as many reasons for enlisting as there were enlisted soldiers. When James talks about even as relatively narrow of a group as "WWII American soldiers," he's still talking about a very large group of real and diverse people and to make such broad claims that "most" or even "a lot" of them were just so taken in by strong german physiques or whatever is frankly insulting. I haven't watched the entirety of James video so maybe he does address this at some point, but from the clips I've seen it seems very generalized and implies some level of racism when WWII soldiers in fact included a lot of racially diverse people. IDK, i think if you're a supposed historical researcher and you're making a video about WWII and you don't know about groups like the Tuskegee Airmen or the Navajo Code Talkers, that's on you. I don't want to discount some of the really horrible shit that American (and obviously other countries) soldier's did in the war and how many of them held disgusting views (even my grandpa who I love dearly was not the most politically correct person to put it lightly) but Jame's claims are not criticizing any real ideology or the consequences of them, they're oversimplifying complex and harmful historical ideas and attributing them to something he pretty much made up. I'll also give you a little hint about something. When people fall into Nazi ideology, it's because they ultimately agree with the ideology, not for some surface level aesthetic reason of "fitness" or whatever. They are antisemitic, they are racist, they are eugenicists, plain and simple. They don't just think the Nazis are cool except for all their beliefs. I also think (and again I could be missing a part of the video here) the hyper focus on the Germans and the Soviets and not mentioning Italy is at the very least an oversight too. Mussolini, like Hitler and Stalin, had a pretty big campaign of promoting an ideal strong race which he tied to ancient Romans. Like this was also a country controlled by a fascist dictator that American soldiers fought in idk it just seems weird to me to leave it out. (okay edit i looked up the transcript and he does talk about Italian fascism a little bit but only about how Mussolini rose to power, nothing about his ideologies or anything really related to the main topic of body image).

And one more thing on that note that bothered me a lot. I think his claims about HIV/AIDS is probably the most well-known here on tumblr and has been pretty thoroughly destroyed by this point, but I do just want to say one more thing about it which is that AIDS isn't gone! I feel like they way he talks about it from what I've seen of this video makes HIV/AIDS sound like a problem of the past now that we have drugs for it, but that is just not the truth. There are still tens of thousands of new infections in the US each year and way more globally and yes, people do still die from it. I just don't like when people talk about AIDS as if it's this problem of the distant past, a separate era that people went through in the 80s rather than an ongoing epidemic that still does not have a cure. Safer sex, clean needle usage, and getting tested are just as important now as they were in the 80s and 90s and don't forget that.

[wetcatspellcaster]

hi! i just wanted to say that I absolutely love Pieces and I greatly admire your work and also how you write dialogue? Writing witty and interesting dialogue can be a bit of a struggle for me but you write the banter between Rosalie and Astarion so well, it's truly incredibly delightful.

I had a question about something in chapter 20 of Pieces. Specifically, when Rosalie asks Astarion if he likes her fancy glow in the dark bed. This may be a misinterpretation of her character but I never got the impression, based on your other works with Rosalie, that she was the type to really gravitate towards expensive or lavish things but as Rosalie herself has stated her house is atrociously fancy now.

I was wondering if this was a "i'm an extremely powerful archmage and have the money so, might as well" type thing. OR if she made those choices for herself with the, maybe subconcious, thought of "these are things astarion would have liked/appreciated/wanted." Maybe as a way to unintentionally bridge the gap between the life with astarion that she actually wants and the life that she had no choice but to have.

The way she asks Astarion if he likes it, and her reaction to his response, to me made it feel like these choices for her living space weren't just for her own enjoyment but also because she wanted to create a house Astarion would want to live in and his opinion on it matters to her not just because he's now living there but because Rosalie always wanted him to.

I just reread the chapter with the fancy garden and the maze and thought that Rosalie, subconciously creating a fancy house with the idea of Astarion one day living in it, AND the Ascendant, conciously creating this whole fancy ostentatious garden with the idea of one day seducing Rosalie in it, both as ways to make up for the one thing both of them want but don't, and can't, have would be an interesting parallel.

If i'm completely off-base and Rosalie just bought herself a fuck off fancy wizard tower complete with heated floors and glow in the dark canopy beds just becasue she could and wanted to than that's cool too. She deserves it honestly.

Also this ask is so long I am so sorry. Your work has given me brain worms like nothing else and I am forever and always an english major at heart, if I had the time and drive I'd write you a whole mulit-paged essay in which I analyzed each house in Pieces, their significance in the narrative, and what they tell us about each character. I am sosososooo normal about you, I promise.

hi lovely. never apologise for writing something at length, I'm very touched that you thought this much about the story and that you took the time to send me this message! :) i love a little bit of literary analysis!

As an English major, you know that any and all interpretations and reader responses to a text are valid, so if this is how you want to read these moments, please go ahead and read it this way!!! There are some things that you say that touch upon future storybeats I've already drafted, so when we get to those chapters hopefully you'll feel rewarded

But in response to your question, yes, the house *is* out of character :) there's a reason why, in my two timeskips, one Rosalie ends up with a cute little flat and a vault worth of diamonds she bought for Astarion, and the other in a massive fuck-off wizard's tower that is, as we'll find out in future chapters, fancy as fuck. But the logic behind it at my end was slightly different than yours, although yours isn't exactly wrong and as I say, I think you'll find stuff in future chapters that makes you happy!

For me, I see Rosalie's wealth in this timeline as an extreme symptom of how lonely and unhappy she is. As the fic has established, Rosalie felt the need to isolate herself, and also buried herself in overwork to both fund her research into Astarion's cure and distract herself from the realities of her life. So the more and more unhappy/workaholic/lonely Rosalie gets, the richer she becomes - for in this timeline, she has nothing other than work, and no one else she wants to spend all that money on. And so she has this massive house bc she needs to spend that money she's accumulated on something, and if that makes her look happy or comfortable from the outside then that's good because then she's not burdening anyone - exactly the same way that the Ascendent's mansion looks decadent and debauched from the outside, to compensate for his true feelings as well.

One really interesting thing about drafting Act 3 currently, is how much Rosalie's issues are now coming to the fore because Astarion, unlike all her friends, hasn't seen a gradual decline in her character/mental health and happiness. For him, it is sudden and abrupt: he has the bubbly hero from the game timeline, and then this strange reclusive hermit ten years later who, to him, is clearly unhappy. And the tower and the way she lives is one way that becomes clear to him.

I hope that makes sense! :)

[fingermosaic]

jfc note to self never write a research essay outline in a day that took forever

[snickiebear]

weekend academic/productivity recap:

FRIDAY

- had my conference!!! it went so so well and im genuinely so pleased that i got the privilege of not only presenting my research but also getting to hear from the community and really make a difference in these people’s lives… environmental law is something im suddenly interested in

- also made a new friend, he was the rep of the other team for my internship and we got on like a house on fire fr

SATURDAY

- major academic day

- i have a middle east + us relations exam on tuesday so ive been rereading all the chapters needed and taking detailed notes for future reference (i hand write it so it takes a lot longer)

- then got four articles/books read/gutted for my seminar research. my essay is really structuring itself in my head now, i can feel the flow of ideas and stuff :P

- decided to unwind by gummy time and watching Hellraiser 1987 after my new friend recced it and it was so good omg??

- finished Crush and im still recovering….

SUNDAY

- another heavy reading day for both my studying and my seminar

- read the last chapters i needed (and also idk if you guys know this but chapters are about 30-50 pages each)

- outlined each exam essay question i might have to answer

- took a break to eat lunch, deep clean my room + bathroom, and give my dog a bath

- research some more, weeded out some sources that arent relevant to what im looking for and found some more to fill in the gaps. i can also see where i’m lacking for my research so at least i have a game plan

- washed and cleaned out my car

- its hair wash day (i have curly hair that ive straightened for the past like 4 days) so that took forever but yay im on schedule!

- i have the entirety of this week planned out so i dont fall behind, im really hoping i can stick with it!!

[aestheno]

My wish for 2025 is that we are now living in the advent of the death of the influencer. Not that I wish for the end of content creation , but the end of the culture of expecting (or indeed receiving) a return on doing largely nothing. Even when we return to the traditional idea of an influencer, in many cases it was adjacent to the fashion industry and rubbed shoulders with figures in modelling, art, and fashion journalism. These days it seems to be a plight for the fastest adoption of brand sponsorships, unsolicited life advice dished out by 20-year-olds trying to obfuscate how lost they feel, and personal style guides that resemble carbon copies of the next person's Zara haul. People pursue the end goal of being an influencerTM instead of considering the slow, satisfying burn of working at their passion and skill.

My head hurts when I pump it with consumption that didn't further my life. The blandness of people's repetitive opinions and unoriginal ideas coats the grooves of my mind with soot, thick and black and cloaking every spark of development it can. I have a thirst only pioneering work can quench - the words of a book whose conception was dependent on a research-heavy sabbatical, a music video curated to colour the illustrations my imagination drew when listening to a song. I'm tired of monthly resets and undergraduate video essays. I'm tired of the aspiration of being a walking billboard, like it somehow means you contributed something worthwhile to the universe. I prefer my fascination be donated to the Hayden Anhedönias, the Lady Gagas, the Magdalena Bays. I get richer with the art I inhale and art I create.

I feel good when I read. I feel good when I end the day with an mp3 export for my friends' feedback. I feel good when I put in time to look at information and statistics and accumulate it into well-researched reports. I love getting to write. I love getting to develop. My overall aim for this year can be summarised as really engrossing in my own development - so that when luck or opportunity strikes, I am ready. And that what I build is meaningful and worthwhile, and is not simply a manufactured conduit to a Squarespace sponsorship.

We worship God for his unique ability to have built a universe - but what if I told you it is not unique. I can build a universe too. I am and I will. And it will spill over its edges with beauty and purpose; its boundaries will be unable to withhold the magnitude of its contents. It will be so visceral and stimulating, like it comes with its own vagal nerve, triggering its own joys and traumas and pain. Its setbacks and its triumphs. Its colours and shapes. My universe will exist to serve itself. Its bricks lines with the sweat off my brow, my effort inseparable from its construction. My universe will scream and whisper. It will merge with whosever it finds. Some fleetingly, others as a carcinogen, a hand twisting an immutable mutation into their lives, to travel with them forever.

In the end, it took effort. It was art. And it mattered.

[asphaltapostle]

Lorem Ipsum, Let Me Be Free

lots of talent in making my essays *sound* like they're bound for a peer-reviewed academic journal... how can I capitalize on this? I feel like academia takes itself too seriously to acknowledge parodies of themselves and nobody else gives a shit.

somewhere out there... lives at least one graduate student who's *only* significant challenge in school is entitling his essays. research, writing, peer-review come easy, but the titles... he is so terrified of anyone figuring this out that he plagiarizes titles and ONLY titles, hyperventilating and sweating his ass off... he wishes so desperately that he could just use a number document ID on the title page... he cannot go on like this. his doctoral thesis is expected in three days. it is a masterpiece... relevant, original, impeccably documented. in fact, it is so good that its title is almost certainly going to be attached to his name for the rest of his academic career and on.. if only it had one. he can't sleep... he's losing his mind. he's going to be ruined! all of the tutoring and the schmoozing and the constant, careful adjustment of his social orientation within the grant-sustained meritocracy for enough favors (its currency) for the asks to craft such a thing. he has decided he's either going to End It All leave the country forever or name it "ˡᵒʳᵉᵐ ᶤᵖˢᵘᵐ: ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉ" and attempt to convince the leadership of his department that he was a danger to others as long as he was allowed to move freely through society. UNTIL HE ENCOUNTERED THIS VERY THREAD... and paid me to come up with the title for his chef d'oeuvre, which took me all of 20 minutes: 𝘌𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘙𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯-𝘈𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘋𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

[myhusbandsasemni]

Cursebreakers - Desiree's Intro

Sup! Some more playing around while I'm still in the planning stages.

Masterlist - Jack's intro

....................................

Desiree shrugged off her jacket, hanging it on a hook by the door before taking her coffee with her to the desk in the office. It was a small office without any windows, two walls completely filled with bookshelves laden with books and journals, the other walls hung with cork boards and rune and wizardry charts to help her with her studies.

Desiree took a seat, leaning back and looking over the open books and journals in front of her, sipping her coffee. She had left halfway through some lesson planning and was now regretting just up and leaving. It always took her forever to figure out what she was doing again. 

She set her coffee down, reaching up to her bun and releasing her hair in a cascade behind her chair (the chair carefully enchanted so her hair wouldn’t be caught in it anywhere.) She shook her hair out with a relieved sigh, scratching at her scalp before she leaned forward over her work again, picking up a pen and activating it so it hovered readily over a journal while she flipped through another book’s pages. 

Right. It would be a relatively simple lesson. She would be substituting for a teacher who taught the introduction to Cursebreaking. Honestly, Desiree had several cobbled together safety/scared straight lessons she could pull out and use, but she was tired of the stories and reports in those. Besides, everyone had heard about the time Orson the Wisecrack had caught his foot in a hole and a curse took his head off, keeping him alive like that for days, and Penlope Clearskies who’s gotten a curse caught in her abdominal cavity and had promptly imploded. No, the new kids were getting desensitized to those stories. 

Thus, she was researching quieter stories. Ones that no one knew about. Curses that hadn’t killed the Cursebreakers, but had driven them to madness. Like the creeping curse that haunted Gurtude Oriander, subtly moving things in her house, hiding things, locking doors, trapping her in a place she had once felt safe until she had taken a power staff to the head to end it all herself. 

Oriander was a good name. Shame. 

Desiree wrote a few more notes, reading through obscure Cursebreaking books until a knock at the door startled her out of her study. 

She looked up to see the teacher of the Runes Application classes standing in the doorway. “Desiree,” Miss Stood said with a friendly little nod. “Are you coming?”

“Hmm?” Desiree leaned over to check her calendar for whatever it was Miss Stood was referring to. There was a lecture scheduled with a guest from a valley in the middle of nowhere. “Oh, the lecture? I’m not going.”

“You should,” Miss Stood said in a tone that said it wasn’t really an option to opt out. “The guest is really good. He comes from the Keeler family out in-”

“I know where the Keeler family is from,” Desiree said with a small look of disgust. “I have no interest in whatever he’s here to ramble on about, Under. Cursebreaking families as a tradition are outdated and honestly more trouble than they’re worth.”

Miss Stood sighed. “Come now, Desiree. It’s not optional. Every student in the Cursebreaking courses are required to attend.”

“I’m not a student. Threaten all you want about writing essays or notes or presentations about his lecture, I’m not actually in any of your classes.”

“Oh? I was under the impression that you were studying as a Cursebreaking Major.”

Desiree froze. She didn’t like that tone. 

“So if you’re not a student, and you’re not a teacher, then why, pretell, Miss Desiree, are you allowed an office here. Why are you living in student quarters? Hmm? Why are you allowed free reign of the library and classes? Hmm?”

Desiree got the message. She might not necessarily be a student here anymore, having outpaced the curriculum in record timing since it was still so new, but she had to act like it so she could stay here and use the resources here to continue her education and studies and master wizardry on the side since she couldn’t afford the wizardry college at the moment. 

She huffed and stood up, twisting her long hair up and stabbing it through with a pencil. “Fine, Under. You win this time. I’m coming,” she grumbled. She could sit there, but she didn’t actually have to listen. 

The woman smiled and nodded, leading the way out of the office, ignoring the way Desiree slammed it a little in her dissatisfaction. She hated being pulled away from her work. She could not wait to call Agatha later and complain to her about this. Agatha was a Cursebreaker from the older generations, but she was just as solitary and driven as Desiree was when it came to this sort of thing, so they had gotten friendly enough to complain to each other about their days when they just couldn’t take it anymore, knowing the other would understand. 

The lecture hall was packed when Desiree got there, but Miss Stood saved her a spot pretty near to the front next to the teacher’s own seat. 

Desiree sat down, tapping her foot with annoyance as the mage lights were dimmed, quieting the students packed into the hall. 

The Head of the Cursebreaking course, Miss Took stepped out to the podium, clearing her throat to make sure she was within the podium's enchantment to have her voice projected out through the room. 

“Welcome! Today is a very special day! It’s not every day that breakthroughs are made in Cursebreaking, after all, but this particular breakthrough is very useful! It will cut future workloads in half, actually. Now, our speaker is Beau from the Keeler family, an old Cursebreaking family out of the Silver Streams Valley, a family who has been around for over 500 years! Beau has been raised in the world of Cursebreaking and will have plenty of insights for you, so be sure to pay attention!”

Miss Took stepped back, gesturing just off stage to someone. 

Beau stepped out and Desiree had to work hard to keep a grimace off her face. He looked like he had just stepped off a unicorn ranch, rather than come here to talk about some breakthrough. His work pants were shabby at best, the button up collared shirt just as worn with the leaves rolled up to the elbows, probably to hide holes at the elbows, if she were to have her guess. His bolo tie was rather well polished and glittered with as many enchantments as the material could hold, but couldn’t he have at least found some time to clean his shoes and shave a little? His facial hair looked slightly unkempt, his shaggy black hair swept about in messy curls in what she was sure other women would call fetching. 

She rolled her eyes as he stepped onto the podium and nodded to the Head of Cursebreaking before sticking his thumbs in his pockets and said, “Howdy. I’m Beau Keeler. And no, that’s not my full name, so don’t go tryin’ to hex or curse me with it.” His tone was joking and good natured and the crowd responded well. 

Desiree, however, was not impressed. 

“Alright. So, as you can guess, I’m not too up to date on what goes on here in the cities, but word got around that the new trick I figured out wasn’t somethin’ you guys had under your belts so they asked me to come talk about it. It’s not that special, honestly. Thought I’d just discovered somethin’ you city folk would already know. Now, here’s the deal.”

Beau went on to describe his new technique for dealing with items enchanted with curses. The concept was….. Well, it was so simple it made Desiree want to throw up that this guy was the one to figure it out first. 

Instead of trying to wipe a curse off of an object, a long and arduous, not to mention dangerous, process, he’d figured out the trick to changing the enchantment instead. Enchantments were made by taking ambient magical energy and shaping it within the object to create a certain effect. When adding more enchantments, you had to make sure you weren’t messing with enchantments already on an object. For example, you had to be careful how you fit a Health enchantment and Cleansing enchantment. If they meshed incorrectly, you could be skinned alive or develop a Cleansing-immune gut bacteria that multiplied like crazy. 

The same went for curses on an object. A Flaying curse badly meshed with a Dehydration curse could end up helping with oily skin and pimples. So, what you did wasn’t to wipe the curse, but to find a combination enchantment to enmesh with it to make it a helpful object instead. 

Beau explained that it was difficult to do, which is why it hadn’t been used before, but that once you know the trick it’s pretty simple. 

He went on to explain the tricks and theories for enmeshment and gave some helpful tips for the safe handling of Cursed items, which made Desiree scoff. He was talking to a room full of Cursebreaking students. The first class in the whole course was how to safely handle cursed items. 

Not soon enough, the lecture was over and Beau stepped off to where you could go up and just chat with him. Desiree had no desire to do so, amused as it was to silently mock him from afar, but Miss Stood pushed her in his direction, getting a little yelp of offense from the red head. 

“Go talk to him,” Miss Stood said firmly. 

“Uh, no,” Desiree said fiercely in return. “I have no use for-”

“Come on, girl! He’s from a Cursebreaking family! He might know things you can use! Stuff that isn’t written down. He’s the only source for some of the best Cursebreaking stories you’ll ever hear! You’re going to pass that up?”

Desiree hated it. She hated that Miss Stood was completely right. She hated Cursebreaking families, but not enough to pass up the chance at some knowledge. 

“Fine,” she hissed. “But you owe me lunch.”

Miss Stood just rolled her eyes as Desiree stalked over to Beau, pushing through the uncertain ring of students on the edges, through the next rings of delighted figures and right up to the ranch hand looking Cursebreaker. 

He seemed surprised by her approach and the expression on her face, sour enough it forced the students to clear off, recognizing that she had his full attention. 

“Oh, hi,” Beau said, trustworthy eyes a little wide. Desiree hated how open and honest he seemed. Hated how he had spoken first. 

“I’m Desiree,” she said, holding out her hand. 

He shook it and she made sure that her grip was uncomfortably tight before she let go. 

“Ah, I think I’ve heard of you,” he said uncertainly. “You’re the, ah, career student? Right?”

“Yes. That I am. And I have several papers and lessons I have planned where I need stories about foolhardy Cursebreakers and their terrible demises. Have any for me?”

Beau seemed taken aback by her direct and threatening approach. “I’ve got a few. Um, perhaps we should go somewhere else for this discussion? Coffee maybe? And if I’m tellin’ stories I have to either be sitting at a fire or walkin’. I’d assume a walk is a tad bit easier to find around here.”

Desiree huffed. “Fine. Let’s just go already.”

She stormed out before Beau could lead the way, forcing him to catch up with her.

Beau's intro

Cursebreakers Taglist: @mr-orion @scatteriskity

[b4nanaa]

FIRST TUMBLR POST OF 2024 AND THE NEW SEMESTER!!!!

→ Write a short (~1-page)  letter addressed to me. As your primary reader, I would like to know more about you as a writer: your past & present experiences with writing, your feelings toward writing, and/or your pursuits related to writing. Please write your letter in a separate document, and share it with me directly via e-mail at dpappo@umass.edu by Monday 2/5.

I feel relatively indifferent towards writing but it mostly depends on the medium. If it's something I'm passionate about or in a form I'm comfortable with, I can write a lot and will be motivated to. But if it's about something I don't care too much for or in a medium I'm not comfortable or don't enjoy, I'm less likely going to write for it. For example, last semester I had to write a letter set in the time period we'd been studying in China. The professor told us not to take this as an opportunity to write an essay and to write at least a 1000 words. On paper it sounds rather simple, but for me I loathed it. I couldn't fathom what or how to write a letter set accurately in a time period while utilizing what he had learned. What made it harder for me was there wasn't any examples provided or any I could find online, so I didn't know what they were expecting from me. In the end I was able to write a letter (got a pretty good grade on it) but it took me a week, including five days past the initial due date. That would be an example of something I struggle with. Over all I don't enjoy writing things I don't know how to write or don't care for, and that assignment was two of those things. Now for things I care about I can write forever about. Last semester I was given a chance to write about a topic I could choose to research about and I chose Examining the Japanese Industry. It was a giant topic that was overwhelming at first but because I was so passionate about it, I was able to write over the word limit. Even after finishing my essay I still felt like I didn't cover everything and wanted to keep going. It also helps that I cared about the topic and wrote like it was a blog of sorts, that way I didn't have to worry so much on if I was writing correctly or not. When I'm able to have creative freedom with my writing and write looser things, I enjoy the process more.

[michelles-garden-of-evil]

Essay: The Broadcast History of Strange Paradise on WKBF-TV (Cleveland, OH)

WARNING: This essay contains spoilers for several episodes of Strange Paradise, the latest being Episode 94. If you do not wish to be spoiled, disable images and reload.

When Krantz Films’ now-obscure Gothic soap Strange Paradise premiered in the United States in September 1969, the company’s president Steve Krantz expected it to be a hit much like the similar, wildly popular serial Dark Shadows. “You thought every possible idea for a daytime drama had already been used?” one copywriter wrote in a trade magazine. “How about Colin Fox playing the dual role of a millionaire industrialist and his 300-years-dead ancestor, in a show set in the Caribbean, involving voodoo? Don’t laugh. Wait until you see the ratings.” Despite this initial optimism, Strange Paradise’s ratings failed to live up to anyone’s expectations, leading to an early cancellation in most American markets. The Cleveland, Ohio station WKBF-TV (Channel 61), an ultra-high frequency (UHF) channel owned by Kaiser Broadcasting, was no exception. The broadcast history of Strange Paradise in Cleveland provides a typical example of the quick decline and premature cancellation that the show saw on most networks that carried it in the United States.

In this essay, we will use the Cleveland newspaper The Plain Dealer to trace the short broadcast history of Strange Paradise on WKBF-TV from its beginnings in the 7 p.m. prime-time slot to its cancellation. After that, we will examine an anecdotal account of a second run of the show’s first arc in 1971 and determine whether the series aired again in Cleveland during that year.

Strange Paradise in The Plain Dealer

Banner advertisements for Strange Paradise from the Friday, September 12, 1969 issue of The Plain Dealer (pp. 107, 110, and 118, respectively).[1]

In the lead-up to its premiere on Monday, September 15, 1969, Kaiser Broadcasting promoted Strange Paradise heavily in the Friday, September 12 issue of The Plain Dealer. Banners appeared at the bottom of the television schedule’s pages, referencing the show’s voodoo theme and encouraging the newspaper’s readers to “meet Quito and Raxl,” two of the show’s major characters. The Selections section of The Plain Dealer’s Friday TV guides ran episode summaries to entice viewers to tune in. The show aired in the 7 pm timeslot, pitting it against Gilligan’s Island, Truth or Consequences, and other popular programs.

Excerpt from the TV schedule for Monday, September 15, 1969, from The Plain Dealer (September 12, 1969), p. 110. In this listing and all subsequent others, the listings for WKBF/Kaiser/Channel 61 appear in the far right column.

Summary of the pilot episode from the same issue, p. 117. The timeslot is listed inaccurately as 7:30 pm.

In theory, Strange Paradise’s original timeslot put it in a position to get good ratings. Bryan Gruszka writes that “initially, the series enjoyed strong ratings,“ but this seems unlikely to be the case in Cleveland. As a UHF channel, many televisions (particularly older sets) did not pick up reception from Kaiser, leaving the viewership low for all of its programs compared to the very-high frequency (VHF) “Big Three” networks of NBC (Channel 3/WKYC), ABC (Channel 5/WEWS), and CBS (Channel 8/WJW).[2] Every one of the Top 30 highest-rated programs of the 1969-1970 season aired on the Big Three television networks, further suggesting a low viewership for WKBF and other UHF channels. Disappointed by the show’s ratings, Kaiser moved it to daytime and scheduled Star Trek reruns in its place, which attracted far more prime-time viewers.[3]

3 pm listings from the TV schedule for September 29, 1969, from The Plain Dealer (September 29, 1969), p. 39.

Episode 11 summary from the same page.

Strange Paradise made the move to daytime television by Monday, September 29, when WKBF rescheduled it at 3 pm. In this new timeslot, it competed against two other soap operas, Another World (NBC) and General Hospital (ABC), which attracted 9.6 million and 8.5 million viewers, respectively, during the 1969-1970 season. Ratings for Strange Paradise do not appear on the list of soap opera ratings for this season, although it aired on the Big Three networks in some other markets. Because of this, it is impossible to know exactly how it fared against its competitors, but it most likely attracted few viewers.

During this period, episode summaries continued to run on the Selections pages of the weekly TV guides released on Fridays. Many of these are identical or nearly identical to the “Lost Episode” summaries from the Newport Daily News and The Fitchburg Sentinel documented on Curt Ladnier’s blog Maljardin: Tales from the Desmond Family Crypt. These summaries described early drafts of the episodes before the show’s producers mandated major rewrites, meaning that the events described in the listings did not correspond to the plots of the broadcasted episodes. Notable changes included the death of one character whom the summaries indicated originally remained alive, the omission of a flashback nightmare sequence about another character’s previous incarnation, and the focus of the main plotline shifting to the discovery of a mysterious black rabbit with a bloodied locket around its neck (which the summaries do not mention). The “Lost Episode” summaries continued through Episode 50, after which the published descriptions once again accurately reflected the episodes’ contents.

Summary of the original Episode 36, from “Monday Selections,” The Plain Dealer (October 31, 1969), p. 121. The description nearly matches this “Lost Episode” summary on Ladnier’s blog.

The original Episode 37 ("Tuesday Selections,” p. 125). The description is similar to the one discussed in this post, save that this version indicates that Holly is unaware of the Temple’s purpose.

Episode 46 (”Monday Selections,” The Plain Dealer (November 14, 1969), p. 84).

Episode 50 (”Friday Selections,” The Plain Dealer (November 21,1969), p. 76).

In early December, the series disappeared from Channel 61′s schedule, most likely because it struggled to compete against General Hospital and Another World for viewers. The show is absent from the "Television Today" guides as early as Tuesday, December 2, although summaries for that week's episodes appeared in the weekly guide from the previous Friday's issue and the other schedules from the same week still listed it in its 3 p.m. timeslot. The paper for Tuesday, December 9 included a summary corresponding to the plot of Episode 62, despite Strange Paradise’s replacement with The Huckleberry Hound Show. By the release of the Friday, December 12 paper, the show no longer appeared in neither the TV schedules nor the selections, indicating its cancellation.

Episode 62 summary from “Tuesday’s Selections,” The Plain Dealer (December 9, 1969), p. 30.

The revised schedule for 3 pm, according to the schedule on the same page. Note “Huck Hound” in the far right column.

After a month of absence, Strange Paradise returned to the channel on Monday, December 29 in the new timeslot of 11 pm. Airing resumed with Episode 56, which may indicate that Episode 55 was the last to air the previous year. Over the course of the next two months, WKBF broadcast the conclusion of Maljardin, the series’ first 65-episode arc, and began showing the second arc, the overtly Dark Shadows-inspired Desmond Hall.

However, the show’s viewers would not get to watch Desmond Hall through to its conclusion. On February 10, 1970, television columnist William Hickey wrote, “’Strange Paradise,’ the strangely bubbling soaper, will disappear from Channel 61 tomorrow night at 11 and will be replaced by reruns of ‘Alfred Hitchcock Presents.’”[4] This cancellation coincided with the introduction of the character Agatha Pruitt and the beginning of a new subplot centered around her blackmail and attempted seduction of protagonist Jean Paul Desmond, leaving that plot unresolved, not to mention the second arc’s overarching plot about the mysterious disappearance of Jean Paul’s brother Philip.

Summary of Episode 87, the last episode confirmed to have aired on WKBF, from “Tuesday’s Selections,” The Plain Dealer (February 6, 1970), p. 95.

Nevertheless, episode summaries of Strange Paradise continued to run in the highlights sections of the paper’s TV guides over the next week. The last episode summary to appear in The Plain Dealer describes the plot of Episode 94 and is noticeably more detailed than most previous summaries:

Summary of Episode 94, originally scheduled to air on Thursday, February 19, 1970. From “Thursday’s Selections,” The Plain Dealer (February 13, 1970), p. 103.

Strange Paradise’s run on WKBF ended abruptly in the middle of the second arc, leaving all of its plots unresolved and many viewers uncertain of the fates of Jean Paul, Agatha, Raxl, and others. WKBF-TV would disappear from the airwaves in 1975, leaving Cleveland-area fans unable to watch the series again until its release on VHS in the 1990s. That is unless an anecdote about its first arc re-airing in the Cleveland area is true.

A Second Run?

After Strange Paradise finished its original run in May 1970, a handful of stations available in the United States, including Canadian and Mexican stations based near the borders, rebroadcast it in syndication. It is possible that WKBF may have also rebroadcast it, but we have only anecdotal evidence. In a 2007 post on the Strangeparadise2 Yahoo! Group, user Larry M. (larmic1) claimed to have watched syndicated re-runs of the series’ first arc in 1971. He wrote,

I was living in Cleveland, Ohio [in 1971], and the "new" show came on about 7 or 7:30pm weeknights, so that leads me to believe it was syndicated. I believe that time is also when I used to watch Strange Paradise, so the station was obviously after that audience. It was just such a surprise when I finally came across the show after coming home from winter break from college, and totally pissed that I pretty much had missed the whole series! It was probably on for all of 3-4 months total. Seems like nobody else watched it either!

If the show did indeed air again in Cleveland in 1971, no evidence exists of its rebroadcast in The Plain Dealer’s listings. Here is an excerpt from the evening schedule for Wednesday, January 6, 1971:

And here is another from Tuesday, December 28 of the same year:

Although the schedule writers abbreviated the names of most shows, one can still tell in most cases what shows they refer to: “Jeannie” must be I Dream of Jeannie, “Hogan” Hogan’s Heroes, etc. (It helps that many of these shows are still well-known today, largely because of re-runs on various networks.) Given that neither Strange Paradise, any abbreviations of its title, nor anything to the effect of “Island of Evil” appear in these listings, one can safely conclude that no Cleveland-based stations re-ran the show during that period.

Even so, evidence exists that residents of northeast Ohio could tune into broadcasts from the Windsor, Ontario-based Canadian station CKLW-TV in the early 1970s. Federal Communications Commission (FCC) records from the 1970s indicate that CKLW-TV, based near the Ontario-Michigan border, was available in the Cleveland-Lorain-Akron market on Channel 9 in 1972 and possibly earlier as well. Larry M. most likely would have viewed Strange Paradise on this Canadian channel in 1971. However, even this is doubtful, because, thus far, we have been unable to uncover any evidence of its re-airing in 1971 on CKLW or any other Ontario channels.

Conclusion

For five months from September 1969 to February 1970, the Gothic serial Strange Paradise aired on WKBF-TV (Channel 61) in the Cleveland area. Premiering at 7 p.m. on September 15 after heavy promotion, it changed time slots twice--first in the same daytime slot as two more popular soaps and then in the late night--before its cancellation on February 11. Part of the show was allegedly re-broadcast the following year, but thusfar no evidence exists of listings of Strange Paradise on any channels based in the Great Lakes region in 1971. Although it quickly fell into obscurity in northeast Ohio, Larry M.’s post is evidence that it had local fans and that, even long after its cancellation, it was not forgotten.

Notes

[1] All clippings from The Plain Dealer come from the NewsBank InfoWeb database Historical Cleveland Plain Dealer (1845-1991). They are all reproduced under fair use for the purpose of education.

[2] Many people alive in this era, the author’s parents (born 1964) included, insist that “there were only three channels” in Cleveland in the late 1960s and early 1970s. This attests to the obscurity of Channel 61.

[3] According to Wikipedia, “the most popular and most profitable program on WKBF were syndicated reruns of the original Star Trek. It was well known that WKBF had rebroadcast the entire 79-episode original series in the exact order of play that had been originally shown on NBC when it aired on that network, and had also paid out of its own pocket for the special high-contrast black-and-white prints of the show in order to do so. In another bold move for the times, the show also ran in its original length, without additional editing for commercials.”

[4] William Hickey, "Tony Winners Promise a CBS Drama Delight," The Plain Dealer (February 10, 1970), p. 20 (6-B).

[askinkiskarma]

Illicit Affairs | Chapter I: Willow

Pairing: Neteyam x f!Human!Reader

Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of death and disease

WC: 3,4k words

A/N: Sooo.. I kinda did something. This is the first fanfic I have written that will actually see the light of day, and also the first piece of writing (outside of master's dissertations, papers, scientific essays etc) that I have done since probably high school, which is longer ago than I'd like to admit. Anyway, I have been hyperfixated on Avatar recently, ATWOW fully bringing back my love and obsession for Pandora that I have had since 2009. I adore the new movie and the Sully kids, but I have a special place in my heart for Neteyam, so here we go. Let me know what you guys think. I work full time as a PhD student, so I'll try my best to write in my spare time and hopefully I can get this done the way I truly want to. This story is also loosely inspired by the incredible @forever--darling and her "One of Us" Neteyam fanfic, which I adore and have probably memorised by now with the amount of times I have read it.

I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife And if it was an open-shut case I never would've known from that look on your face Lost in your current like a priceless wine

“Wake up, Ace. It’s late already and there’s so much to do today, remember?” Norm’s voice pulled you out of a beautiful dream, one where you were flying on your chosen Ikran, high above the clouds, the worries…this lab. Albeit hard to swallow, you were almost relieved to be woken up, as feeding out-of-reach fantasies and dreams could lead to no good, anyhow. 

“I’m up… Jesus, Norm.” You felt yourself rise from your warm and comfortable bed and the feeling of your bare feet touching the cold, hard floor of the living quarters of the lab made you swallow a curse. 

“We left you some breakfast, get ready and meet us in the lab in 30, okay? We have the samples ready for you and you can run them after we’ve talked it through.” 

“Aye, aye, captain.” 

This was your life. You, among a few other people, were one of the only humans left on Pandora after the war took them back to Earth more than 17 years ago. Unlike the others, though, you were born here, on this foreign planet, the only home you’ve ever known. There was one more, a beautiful, feisty young man with a dark heritage, who liked to think that he is as much Pandoran as the actual natives. His name was Spider, and although you grew up together, there was not much you could say you had in common. He was wild and adventurous, has been his whole life; fully willing to immerse himself in the Na’vi ways and almost demanding a place amongst the people.

Although you have your doubts, he says the people were accepting of him, as he managed to befriend the most important family of the nearby Omatikaya tribe: the Sullys. Jake Sully, a former dream walker, rose to prominence as Toruk Makto, rider of Last Shadow. He brought multiple clans together to defeat the Sky People in their brutal quest for wealth and colonisation. He succeeded, after which he became Olo’yektan, leader of the Omatikaya. He is now fully Na’vi, after completing a consciousness transfer that allowed him to leave behind his human form and forever live as one of the people. It had never been done before. Jake was a great man, who became a mediator between the Na’vi and the humans left on Earth. His children, Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk, were brought up to know English and be accepting of everyone, regardless where they came from, as long as they had pure intentions and a strong heart. Spider was considered one of them. And, surprisingly, you were, too. 

Your mum was a medic and researcher, brought here many moons ago to assist the Dr. Grace Augustin and her team in their quest to understand Pandora and its miraculous biology. Your dad, a former Master Sergeant in the US Air Force, joined the RDA for their military purposes. You never met your dad. He died when the Sky People attacked, although no one knows for sure which side he ended up taking. Your mum didn’t even know she was pregnant with you at the time, that’s how new everything was. Your mum loved your dad and she maintained her belief that he ended up doing the right thing in the end. You believed that as a child, but now are not so sure. Nevertheless, you still kept his dog tag, in a drawer at the bottom of your desk, a reminder of where you come from and what mistakes not to repeat. 

Your mum died where you were 10. It was the worst day of your life. The cancer, which slowly spread in the beginning, overtook her being one faithful day, which you will never be able to erase from your memory. There is no chemotherapy, no radiation therapy, no drugs that could have prevented this, not here, not on Pandora. Your mum made a decision to remain on this planet she loved more than her own and it eventually killed her. She had no regrets, she said. She was happy to have lived and loved and died here, among Eywa. The Na’vi loved her. She was good friends and a mentor to Neytiri and Jake, both of whom agreed to give her a Na’vi send off. You were there that day, one of the few times you had visited the Home Tree. You remember the pouring rain, falling so hard it washed away the tears spilling from your eye almost as soon as they emerged. You remember Lo’ak and Kiri, your beautiful friends that have always been there for you, mourning with you. Your mum was their favourite aunt. She introduced them to music and films, and showed all of you her favourite books and painters and made sure you all understood that humans, despite their many flaws, have beauty and love and good in them, that no matter what, will prevail. “It will prevail because of you. Because you will carry it along and share it. You will revel in the beauty and fight to bring it back because what better way is there to live?”

You finished breakfast quickly, some dry toast with some fruit Kiri brought you the last time she visited and made your way back to the lab. You found Norm and Max, alongside two other human scientists, Tim and Claire, sitting on chairs next to the lab benches, discussing plans for the week. 

“There she is, the brightest of us all.” You smirked at the compliment, raising your eyebrows in amusement and sitting down next to Claire. 

“You’ve done great work last week, Ace The ELISAs show promise that Relensa might have some effect against this type of Pandora virus. I need you to now repeat it with the samples we’ve provided and also include a different type of positive control to the experiment, if possible.”

“Will do. How about a combination therapy? I know Relensa is not the only type of anti-viral therapy we have available. Amantidin, maybe? We have to go at this from all angles, you know?” 

“Our Amantidin reserve is running severely short, but give it a try. Try a dose-response? Maybe 100 nano molars to 1 micro molar? Try 1milimolar as a positive control?”

This was your life. Unlike Spider, you avoided the clan. You did not want to be the walking reminder of everything they’ve lost. You were happy to sit back and dedicate your life to helping from the shadows. Your mum was a medic and a researcher, one of the brightest in the world. She wrote the book on Na’vi anatomy and physiology, she wanted to understand the people and hopefully help them mitigate losses brought by disease. You continued that work. Although young, you learned everything there was to learn. Not like you had anything else to do. You worked as a scientist and a nurse and a doctor if needs be. You patched humans up, stitched their wounds, ran experiments on Pandora pathogens and tried to find a cure against viral and bacterial diseases that plagued the Na’vi. You spent your life in the lab, and in the adjacent hub, learning, working out and playing the guitar and piano your mum taught you when you were really young. You couldn’t say you loved it, loved being here all the time, but you were content knowing you were, in your own way, making up for your species’ past mistakes. 

Around lunchtime, you heard commotion from the entryway. A very familiar voice reverberated through the hallways. Your lips raised in a soft smile. Lo’ak. 

Removing your lab coat, goggles and gloves, you made your way towards the origin of the sound. The tall, much-taller-than-you young man picked up a breathing mask from the designated shelf and waved at you with unwavering enthusiasm. You loved this boy. Your brother, for all intents and purposes, your partner-in-crime for all time. He loved you, too, you knew that, and you thought in a different life, in a different universe, you were soulmates, braving life’s tough storms together. 

“Brought you lunch, angel.” Your nickname for you made you roll your eyes. You hated it, but the more you hated it, the more he used it so you remained silent. “I thought you could use a break from the stale excuse you guys call food around here.” 

Lo’ak spoke English with you most of the time. He took to your parents’ (and his dad’s) culture the most out of all the kids. You spent a lot of your childhood together, hunched around a computer with old reruns of shows your mum loved in her youth, shows and movies that were way before even her time. She said she loved seeing what Earth looked like before humans killed their mother. Shows like Gilmore Girls, Friends and Modern Family were some of her favourites. You devoured them as a child, and Lo’ak did so too, with you. You drove her crazy as children, and drove Norm and Max crazy as teenagers, both trying to understand references and sayings, buildings and activities, games and idiosyncrasies. The Earth you grew up watching and reading up was beautiful, a star in the night sky you will never be able to touch. 

Lo’ak made his way to the dining room of the hub, and lay several carefully-packed items on the table. Fresh teylu, cooked over fire and Pandora vegetables, all full of colour and flavour, all much better than anything that could come out of this place. You realise that you are starving as soon as you lay your eyes on them. Before you even sat down, you dug your fingers in and quickly ate some teylu, groaning at the delicious sweet meaty flavour. It was your favourite, and Lo’ak knew. He laughed at your apparent desperation and motioned for you to sit down. You obliged, and you both sat in silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company and the food he provided. 

“How’s training going? I haven’t seen you in a few days.” 

“I die a little bit inside every time you make me remember I spend my days training like a little robot. It’s going fine. Tiring, you know? My dad is fully back in his Marine ways. He knows it’s been enough time that the humans are bound to return sooner or later. He says they’d never leave this world, and all its untapped riches alone without a fight. So it’s a lot of military training… if we walk like them, talk like them and fight like them, it might bring us some sort of advantage, you know?” 

“Yeah, I know. I know it’s a pain, but he’s only doing this to protect you guys. He’s right. The humans are bound to return one day and when they do, we have to be prepared.” He doesn’t know this, but you have also been training, learning about guns, going through your dad’s old manuals and whatever else the RDA has left behind that could possibly be of use. You use the guns that are in the hub to learn how to aim, shoot, strip field, reload and clean the weapons, so you too can be prepared when the time comes. You might be stuck in a weak human body, but you will not be weak. 

“Neteyam’s driving me nuts. He used to be fun, remember that? He’s such a killjoy, it’s hard to stomach being around him anymore. He’s always giving out orders, always making sure everything is in order and perfect, like him. He’s been training like crazy, and sticking to my dad like he’s some sort of fungus you can’t get rid of. Drives me crazy.”

“Hey, don’t talk about your brother like that. There’s a line, Lo’ak. Neteyam only wants the best for you guys, and he’s the oldest. He has to carry the burden of being the responsible one while you guy cause mischief all the time.” 

Neteyam, Jake and Neytiri’s oldest, is more Na’vi than all the other children combined, in both looks and personality. Whilst the two middle children, Lo’ak and Kiri have five fingers, eyebrows and a more human appearance, Neteyam is all Neytiri. He’s tall and lean and seems like he was born with a bow in hand. A true warrior, you always found him a tad intimidating. Just like his mum, he has his apprehensions about humans and avatars, and although he used to come to the hub quite often when he was younger, mostly to keep an eye on his siblings, the visits have become a rarity as of recent times. 

You wonder how the young man changed in the time you haven’t seen him. You used to be close as children, or at least that’s what you thought. Whereas Spider took to Lo’ak and Kiri, their mischievous personalities a good match for each other, you took to the oldest Sully boy. He was quiet and thoughtful, and he used to look at you like a puzzle he was trying to solve, but couldn’t. He used to sit in the back as you used to play piano, and his gaze on you used to make your skin blush and your heart race. You tried not to think about the pang of hurt that rose in your chest as you remembered that he essentially abandoned you, without so much as a farewell. 

“Earth to Y/N, are you still there?” Lo’ak interrupted your train of thought and you were half grateful that you didn’t have to think about Neteyam anymore. 

“Sorry. You were saying?”

“I was saying you’re right, I know I should be more understanding, I am happy I don’t have to be the one to carry all of responsibility, but it’s hard not to hold a grudge when it seems my brother was abducted by aliens and replaced with a weird, no-fun replica of himself.” 

You groaned at the young Sully’s ongoing verbal attacks, but said no more. Whatever was going on between the two Sully boys was, at the end of the day, none of your business. 

“Anyway…” Lo’ak started, a mischievous grin appearing on his beautiful face, “I know something you don’t.” 

“Mmm, what is that?”

“I’m not telling you, but let’s just say I think it will make you very happy.” 

“Well that’s just cruel. You know I hate surprises.”

After lunch, Lo’ak joined you in the recreation hub, where you kept a guitar and the piano that the humans left behind. You didn’t feel like going back to work just yet. You sat down on the cold floor and picked up your copy of Pride and Prejudice, your mum’s favourite book. The book was coming apart at the seams, worn down from all the times you have held it in your hands, as if gripping it tighter would bring her back to you, even if for only a split second. You sighed as you passed the book to Lo’ak and motioned for him to put it on the table next to him.

“Sing for me, will you? I missed hearing your voice.” 

You smiled up at him. Nobody knew you like Lo’ak did. Nobody accepted you the way Lo’ak did. Both of you felt out of place in this world, like you didn’t quite belong anywhere. He has spent many an hour confessing how alone he’s felt all his life. You’d like to think you helped. You picked up your guitar and played a familiar song, one you knew he loved.

“Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind , as if you were a mythical thing

Like you were a trophy or a champion ring, and there was one prize I'd cheat to win

The more that you say, the less I know

Wherever you stray, I follow

I'm begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans

That's my man”

You sat like this for hours, laughing and playing and singing. You tried to teach him a couple of chords on the guitar, which looked puny in his massive hands. With a loud thud, the open to the recreation centre swung open, making both of your heads turn in shock. 

“Lo’ak, what the fuck?” 

The harsh tone came from a man, a man you barely recognised anymore. Tall and muscular, he was not the same Neteyam you last saw. He was adorning a carefully crafted neck piece that matched his hunter’s chest piece and the knife holder he kept by his hips. You took a second to adjust to the man in front of you, that you haven’t seen in so long, that will always have a special place in your heart. Your gaze eventually fell on his face, which, like the rest of him, matured so much in all that time apart. He was beautiful. His hair was freshly braided and you couldn’t help but stare at the beaded strands that framed his face. As much as his body and face changed, they didn’t hold a candle to his eyes. The big yellow orbs that always looked at you curiously and intently were now focused on Lo’ak with rage flashed across them. 

“You were supposed to meet me at the Home Tree a fucking hour ago, Lo’ak. Dad asked you to join the hunting party and pull your weight for once, remember that? Are you physically unable to do anything that is ever asked of you?” 

He is yet to even spare a glance in your direction. You felt your blood pressure rising at the oldest Sully, but you pushed it down to look at Lo’ak, who was staring daggers at his older brother. As he was opening his mouth to undoubtedly say something that would get him in even more trouble than he was already in, you cut him off. 

“It’s my fault.” You say in Na’vi. You doubted Neteyam was in the mood for English, so as to not escalate the tensions further, you opted for your semi-decent Na’vi. “I needed his help with some samples Norm got for me that I couldn’t identify. I’m done now, though. Sorry for taking him from his duties.”

His eyes finally snapped from Lo’ak and laded on your frame. You saw his lips parting in confusion and then settle in a firm line. His eyes scanned your body from head to toe. You changed. A lot. Your hair was now close to reaching your narrow waist, which he hated himself for noticing. You were wearing what the humans called a “top”, that was cut above your abdomen and had the word “Stanford” written across it. He’s sure he’s seen it before, although he couldn’t place where. You were wearing bottoms, short and blue, with cuts in them, which Neteyam didn’t get. Why are your clothes ripped? It’s not like you fought some animal in the wild, you never got out. He couldn’t help noticing how lean you had become, so lean, in fact, he could trace your muscles with precision, something he is rarely able to do with humans. Your species was puny and weak, which is why they needed avatars and exo-suits to survive on Pandora. Realizing he was staring, his eyes moved from you back to Lo’ak, and motioned for him to get up. Although he huffed and puffed, Lo’ak obliged without saying a word. He turned around before exiting the room, giving you one last exasperated look. You winked at him and clicked your tongue in the direction of the forest, a small smile on your face. This skxawng. 

“Hey, you.” You called after Neteyam in English, as soon as Lo’ak disappeared from your line of view. You don’t know what you expected, but you had to try. He turned around and his eyes met yours. It was like looking at a stranger. 

“I really have to go, Y/N.” He said, with a deep voice and slight accent, and his eyes fell on the floor as soon as he noticed the look of hurt that crossed your face. 

“Fine, go.” You said, quickly composing yourself. You refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he can hurt your feelings. You turned around, and busied yourself cleaning up, not sparing a second look in his direction. His gaze shifted back to your frame, and with a sigh, he made his way out of the lab and your life, once more. 

[loosesodamarble]

Nacht Faust: A Story of Evil and Unresolved Atonement

So with Black Clover back to regular serialization and some thoughts brewing in my mind, I've decided to do a sort of mini essay/rant/character analysis of Nacht Faust.

Big surprise, I know.

Now this character analysis of Nacht Faust doesn't have months of research and writing behind it, despite Nacht not really being a new character at this point. I just recently got the fire to write down all my (objectively correct) thoughts.

Fair warning to my readers, this post contains manga spoilers and none of this was beta read.

..........

So in the beginning...

Nacht acknowledged that he wasn't really a good person. He did things for the fun of it and fun things were bad things, as it happened. In chapter 286, the description of Nacht's past self includes the line "He used magic arbitrarily, and only for himself." To put it simply, Nacht in the past was a self-serving individual. Satisfaction for him came from serving his own interests.

In contrast, Morgen was "picture of a good man." He was an individual who put others before himself, helping them as second nature. He found satisfaction through serving others, rather than himself.

Nacht, at an early age, picked up on the differences between himself and Morgen. Morgen was good. Nacht was evil. Because of their differences, Nacht decided to pull away from Morgen. Quoting again from chapter 286: "I really loved you. Even if I couldn't shine, I wanted you to do it. If I was besides you, it felt as if I'd defile your light, so I—"

So Nacht doubled down on his bad nature as a way to cope with what he felt to be an unresolvable rift between himself and Morgen. He got became a delinquent, turned down being a Magic Knight on Morgen's suggestion, and eventually...

Now on a first reading, this comes off as Nacht merely being excited at the prospect of something as dangerous as Forbidden Magic and devils. Or perhaps it's satisfaction in knowing that he was considered the rightful heir of House Faust. However, I've come to read this moment as Nacht's malice towards himself, an already present self-loathing and self-destructive nature, finally being confirmed. His internal view was given external affirmation. And so of course Nacht took to Forbidden Magic as a way to continually affirm to himself that yes, he is evil while Morgen is good. Nacht cannot be close with the brother he loves so dearly, otherwise, Morgen would get hurt.

But despite Nacht trying to keep his distance, Morgen constantly sought him out and tried to reach out to him. The attempts were unsuccessful but what matters is that Morgen never stopped being a presence in Nacht's life.

And it eventually led to the tragedy that changed Nacht's life forever.

Morgen's death, though not brought about by Nacht's hand directly, is Nacht's greatest sin. In Nacht's mind, because of him, goodness was lost and all that remained was pure, illogical evil.

Chapter 286 is titled "A Night with No Morning." There are several meanings. Because of their names, the chapter can refer to Nacht no longer having Morgen in his life. It's also symbolic of there being dark despair with no light of hope. And, given Nacht's view of himself and Morgen, the chapter title can even be understood as "evil without good," a lack of balance.

What Nacht does following Morgen's death is him attempting to atone for his sin. Atonement is a complex concept—and it is frequently used in religious contexts but it exists independent of theology—but what it boils down to is a person taking action to correct their past misdeeds. Nacht is atoning, attempting to make up for his sin of killing Morgen.

Nacht devotes himself to the kind of life Morgen led. Instead of being self-serving, he acts self-sacrificing. Instead of reveling in bad behaviors, he looks down upon them.

Nacht even has a spell dedicated to his desire to atone.

However, atonement is... insufficient.

Although atonement is meant to make up for what someone has done wrong, there is no way to take back actions or undo the consequences. As much as Nacht grieves Morgen, his brother is staying dead.

Furthermore, Nacht's atonement for Morgen's death is, as I described in the title, unresolved.

Because as far as Nacht is concerned, his atoning for his sin is also meant to be an eternal punishment to himself. I mean, look back at the way he described Monument of Atonement: "no light, life, or death" and an "endless hellish game of tag."

But why would Nacht punish himself while trying to right his wrongs? Because Nacht hates himself.

Nacht's self-loathing is one of his most notable flaws. I kind of implied it earlier but I'll state outright here but I believe that self-loathing stems from the difference between the twins. Because Morgen was good and Nacht loved him, Nacht ended up hating himself since he was nothing like Morgen. The hate was there from the beginning and then got magnified by Morgen's death.

Thing is, Nacht doesn't admit to hating himself. Rather, he projects.

Nacht hates Yami and the Black Bulls because they represent his own failings. Being aimless and selfish and violent and showing a bad face to others. And then there's something he says regarding how the Bulls turned themselves around.

Nacht rejects the idea of bad people becoming good. He does not believe in redemption, in coming from a bad place and becoming better. And since we know Nacht is projecting, this is him saying that he can never be good.

Nacht is bad. Always has been. Always will be.

Because Nacht was born bad, born evil... Because his evil destroyed Morgen, who was born good... And because evil can never be good... Nacht decides to punish himself.

Nacht knows he can't bring Morgen back so he traps himself in trying to make up for Morgen's death forever.

Nacht's atonement is one without end. Without resolution. Without redemption. Without the one thing that he actually needs. It's something Nacht denies himself.

Nacht wants to atone and even apologize to Morgen, as seen in his thoughts when he thinks he's about to die (for a second time). However, Nacht never asks for forgiveness for causing Morgen's death. He doesn't fear the idea of not being forgiven. Rather, Nacht actively rejects the possibility of forgiveness.

Nacht being forgiven wouldn't erase his misdeeds. It wouldn't automatically make him a good person. But forgiveness is what would give his atonement any sense of closure. Closure, an end to it all, is what Nacht is avoiding though. Because Nacht sees himself as evil through and through, and seeks to punish himself forever for it, he cannot accept the mercy of being forgiven. If Nacht is forgiven, he can then be redeemed. He can go from bad to good. But Nacht doesn't want to be considered good because he believes he cannot, must not, be anything like Morgen whatsoever.

Unforgivable and irredeemable. That is how Nacht views himself. And so his atonement, his punishment against himself, is unconditional to him.

There is no condition which Nacht can meet in order to earn any amount of forgiveness. He deems himself undeserving of that second chance that forgiveness creates.

It's why he tries to drive Yami away. To get Yami abandon him and leave him to die. Because if Yami saves Nacht, that implies Yami's forgiveness. Nacht doesn't want to be forgiven though.

In the end though, Nacht being forgiven is not up to him. It's not his place to ask for forgiveness. But neither is it his place to deny any forgiveness given to him. And it's not about earning forgiveness either. There is no need for atonement to precede forgiveness (though some people would prefer it that way). Forgiveness is simply something given from one party to another.

(This portion delves into my oc content so if you just want the canon Nacht stuff, feel free to skip the next couple paragraphs.)

(It's why I have my oc, Josele, forgive Nacht so easily. In their story, Nacht also carries with him the sin of blaming Morgen's death on Josele and his accusation being a contributing factor to her curse. Nacht hurt Josele personally and tries to atone for that misdeed by looking for a way to break her curse. All the while, Nacht tells himself and other people that he doesn't deserve to make Josele happy even after it becomes possible for her to be happy at all again. Nacht wants to atone for accusing Josele without ever seeking for be forgiven for it.)

(And Josele sees what Nacht is doing to himself. She understands that he is trying to punish himself by never letting his actions be "enough" to make up for the past. And so because Josele loves Nacht, and knows he can do good despite his beliefs, she forgives him. She gives him what he is not asking for but what he needs to end his suffering. Nacht does reject it for a time, unable to think he can do anything good for Josele in comparison to Morgen. He eventually realizes that the unconditional love and forgiveness Josele offers is better than the unconditional hatred and punishment he puts on himself though.)

(Because of Nacht's love for Josele, he wants to atone for what he did to her. And because of Josele's love for Nacht, she forgives him for the pain he caused. Neither really asked for what the other offered, but both still needed those acts in the end. Which is... something.)

To me, Nacht's character reflects this conclusion I've come to: that redemption is the meeting point of atonement and forgiveness.

Nacht was once a bad person and in the present carries the sins of his past with him. He seeks to atone for his misdeeds. He refuses the possibility of being forgiven, of becoming good in the eyes of others or himself. In refusing to be forgiven or redeemed, Nacht leaves his atonement unresolved. Atoning forever does nothing but perpetuate Nacht's guilt and pain. Nacht's struggle, and his atonement, is resolved by Yami (and Josele) giving Nacht that unwanted but entirely necessary forgiveness. From there, Nacht is free to redeem himself and finally move onto a brighter future.

This analysis has made me grow to love Nacht even more.

So often there are characters who have done wrong in the past and get on their hands and knees, begging to be forgiven and accepted as good. But Nacht completely goes against that idea. He does good as a way of punishing himself for once being bad and he doesn't want anyone forgiving him.

It's tragic to see a character not feel deserving of something. But then it's heartwarming when they still get it because they don't need to deserve it and they need it in order to heal. To me, unconditional love and forgiveness will always be better than having to earn forgiveness.

To make a long post short: my love for Nacht redeems him of being a stupid complex and angsty character.

[kiss-my-battery-505]

I’m bored so here’s a list of my reviews of all the movies I’ve seen from the silver scream albums

Don’t feel pressured to read lmao I’m just infodumping for fun also sorry for bad formatting this was written in my notes app lol

Friday the 13th/Thank god it’s Friday- The song absolutely FUCKS its so good I VERY recommend it, it mainly references the beginning part of the movie but it sounds like a basic campfire story but with metal music it’s awesome <3 The *movie* wasn’t bad, the first one wasn’t as great as I was expecting but it was super fun and I def am gonna watch the sequels

Rainy day/Resident evil- LOVE THESE the song is 100% less metal and more like alternative?? Pop rock?? but it’s still amazing the music video also slaps, but the MOVIES!!!! I just watched the second one (it’s been a while since I watched the first lmao) but the second one is a total cheesy action/zombie movie and is one of the only zombie movies I’ve ever enjoyed like GENUINELY and the GAMESS I’ve only played the first one (I haven’t finished yet </3) and watched some clips from the later ones but they freaky /pos HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend the song/franchise

Scream/Your number’s up- The song wasnt my favorite (it just sounded a little too much like a musical but it wasn’t bad) but it wasn’t bad but the MOVIE <333 I already watched scream like a while ago and it’s one of my favorite like kind of mystery/slasher movies? Also one of my favorite final girls in a movie like she def earned it, I wish I could watch this movie again for the first time it rocks

IT/IT is the end-Another movie I have SO many thoughts on: the older one was my favorite <33 it had practical effects it felt like the main characters actually cared about each other, LOVED the old one BUT the new ones were not as good imo like it was *all* CGI that got kind of boring after a while the characters like seemed to care about each other less and it was all super forced, there were like wayyyy too many side plots that meant nothing??? AND THE ENDING like- spoilers if u haven’t watched it- but the way they figured out how to defeat the clown WAS SO FUCKING STUPID like all of those confusing side plots and they just had to use the power of bullying????? Like they just gathered around it just going oH stupid little babey man look at this stupid fuckign idiot AND IT WORKED?!?!!! Like they fought a spider creechur in the original like I was so mad at the new ending loll anyway, it’s been like a couple months since I watched it but I could totally go into even more detail jsbsj

Nightmare on elm street/American nightmare- Again the song is great✨super theatrical, I just watched the movie for the first time it’s amazing <333 total cheesy 80s movie, the fashion was great✨the characters weren’t like annoying I liek :)

Hip to be scared/American psycho- This was the first Ice Nine Kills song I’ve ever listened to and it’s STILL my favorite it’s soso theatrical and fun and there are so many movie references in the song it’s crazyy and the live performance clips look so fun jsbsj

I just recently watched the movie bc of the song and like I don’t know if I would have enjoyed the movie as much if I hadn’t listened to the song first loll like the first half of the movie i took WAY less seriously than I should’ve cause like they’d reference something and and my dumbass brain would only think of the song but towards the end I realized it was all a metaphor for something bigger and I’ve never researched a movie that much like ever <3 I could write a whole other essay on the like corporate greed and toxic masculinity themes but this is already super long so <3333

Evil dead/Ex Mortis- the song and movies are on the EXACT same wavelength /pos very camp very cheesy it’s perfect <33 it’s been forever since I’ve watched Army of Darkness but I remember it was super fun like a very good bad movie you can just turn your brain off and watch without analyzing too hard

Candyman/Farewell II Flesh-So I’ve only seen the new remake of this movie but it was done SUPER well like the shadow puppet scenes were really cool and different and the plot was rly good :))) very spooky I loved it (my sister did not lmaoo)

Pet semetary/Funeral derangements- (I’ve only watched the original one) ok so like this movie has a very gloomy type vibe (obviously) and was like pretty unsettling (minus the parts me and my friends made fun of a little lol) but like that’s the point and it was well made, also the *song* funeral derangements fucks *so* hard like the chorus is so amazinggg waughh <3333333 very swag

Also lastly honorable mention that has not been put on a silver scream album (yet 👀) but is still SUCH a good horror movie: Cabin in the woods is so amazing and I cant even summarize the plot without like spoiling it like trust it’s such a good movie it like changes the way u see other popular horror movies it’s so cool I promise

Ok this was really long and I don’t write essays often so I wanted to keep it short (I didn’t 😔) but yeah anyway~this is just some of my own opinions don’t take it too seriously lmao I didn’t 🥰🥰

[willsimpforanyone]

Could you write smut for Alex fierro x she/they reader? Maybe stress relief or somethin?

ooo first magnus chase series request! pls bear in mind i haven't read all the books out and certainly not for a few years so i hope i don't make her too ooc? i've done some research and i think alex is amab so that's gonna play a part here, and i'm gonna use afab terminology for the reader

this is gonna be kinda influenced by my own experience of being fluid so i hope that's okay

alex and reader are also gonna be aged up bc he's forever 16 so this is gonna be a college au bc that's what i know best lol so both are 18+

The word count said 876.

That was it? Three days work and my eyes were aching, there had been a low level headache for the past two hours and nothing was making sense any more.

I pushed away from my desk in frustration, my rolling chair taking me a little further than I had intended. It hit into the plate I'd left on my floor from having lunch at my desk, making an unpleasant clink-y sound that made me flinch and raise my hand to my head.

Today was not a good day.

In acceptance of that fact, I made sure my work was saved, closed my laptop and vacated the tiny space I called 'my office'. The kitchen was cooler and I pressed my hands to the cold countertop, sighing.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed before I heard keys jangling in the lock; it took a moment or two to realise oh! Alex had said she was coming round to make sure I was eating, of course, it wasn't a burglar. Also burglars don't have keys, generally.

Green Day was blasting through his (her? No, his) earphones and a bag full of groceries hung from his hand. He dumped the bag on the kitchen countertop and raised an eyebrow at my dishevelled appearance while putting away his phone.

"Hey sunshine, who died?"

I rolled my eyes at him, but smiled fondly. "My will to achieve academic success, for today at least."

He nodded understandingly, and gestured for me to help put away food.

"Alex, you gotta stop buying me food, I'm fine," I insisted as packets of noodles were pressed into my hands.

Alex shrugged, opening the fridge. "No, for two reasons. One-" Milk in the fridge door. "-you are unbelievably shit at feeding yourself, it's like you're a child. Two-" Vegetables in the bottom drawer. "-I like being able to buy things now and I run out of things to buy for me very quickly so it's food for you, 'kay?"

I laughed, only slightly reluctantly putting things away in cupboards. One of the cupboard doors slammed a little harder than I intended and I winced, cradling my head in my hands.

"What's up?" Alex gently pulled my hands from my head and gave me a look of genuine concern. "You doing okay?"

"Stress headache, coursework has been kicking my ass." I fumbled around for a glass of water. "I'll be fine, just need a break."

"Stressed?" Alex rifled through the bag abandoned on the counter, fishing out a pack of ibuprofen. "Shoulda told me, idiot, I'd have come over sooner and forced you to take a break."

I downed the medication and chuckled. "I'm only taking a break now because words have lost all meaning."

He shrugged. "And you should have stopped before that, but here we are, and I'm not letting you back into that pathetic room you call an office today."

For once, I didn't immediately resist, having already accepted that I would get no real work done today anyway. "Okay, okay, fine, so what's the plan, hm?"

A fun glint came into his eye. "Well, my darling partner, I do believe I have a method for dealing with stress that has proved popular in the past."

"Oh?" I slipped my arms around his waist and he rested his on my shoulders. "A bold claim, considering I'm pretty stressed about this essay thing, it's due in four days."

Alex grinned. "Okay, how about this- I'll help with the essay tomorrow. For the rest of today, I use my method of... de-stressing, sound good?"

His hands were already smoothing over my neck and playing with the neckline of my sweater. I hummed as he trailed his hands down the material and slipping his hands under it to rest on my waist.

I could already feel the tension from my shoulders slipping away little by little. Pressing a kiss to his lips, I grinned. "Well, how can I say no to the silver-tongued child of Loki?"

Before I knew it, I was swept off my feet and into Alex's arms. I laughed as (he? No... no, she was now a girl) she made her way through my tiny apartment to my bedroom and dropped me a little unceremoniously on the bed. Her green hair brushed into her eyes and I pushed it behind her ear.

"I noticed the change, by the way."

Her cheeks touched pink, the way they always did when she realised I paid enough attention to her to notice that her gender had changed, even if her appearance hadn't. "Oh hush, and sit up so I can get rid of that sweater, no matter how cute it looks on you." Always had to fluster me too, the little shit.

Obediently I sat up, tugging her forward by her belt loops and helping her get my sweater off. "Just so I know," she pressed the words into my neck. "Are, like, you okay with typically feminine shit today or?"

I rolled the words 'pretty' and 'girl' around my head. 'Pretty' felt fine, but I wasn't feeling 'girl' right now, and I told her so.

"Cool." Alex stripped of her green sweater vest, leaving her in a loose pink shirt and dark blue jeans. "No babygirl, just baby."

Nodding, I felt a rush of adoration towards her that we could communicate like this. I reached up to grasp the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss, all tongue and teeth as she almost flopped on top of me. She tore herself away, grabbing my wrists and playfully pinning me to the bed.

"Now, now, sunshine, you're the focus here, stop trying to take control."

I rolled my eyes. "Then get on with it, I'm supposed to be de-stressing here."

"Demanding fucker," Alex teased. She placed my hands on the bed near my head, and gave me a stern look I took to mean 'don't fucking move them'.

My legs were suddenly bare as Alex stripped away the material and knelt between them. "Mhm, gorgeous, just as I thought."

I nudged her with my knee. "Shut up."

"How dare you, absolutely not." She winked at me and shimmied downwards until her face was level with my underwear. "If you don't want compliments, stop looking so fucking fine."

I didn't get a chance to reply when she dived forward and licked the material covering my pussy. I gasped, sharp and sudden, and Alex's cocky smirk could barely be seen from between my thighs.

Her lips danced along my skin, one hand round a thigh and the other preemptively holding my hips down. "So pretty," she murmured, teeth just grazing my sensitive inner thigh, so close to where I wanted her but just out of reach.

I whined. "Alex, come on."

"Again, so demanding." She grinned, but hooked her fingers under the elastic of my underwear and dragged them down, throwing them somewhere in my room. Her eyes widened in delight. "Well, sunshine, you needed some relaxation, hm?" A finger reverently slid down my folds and I shivered- Alex pulled it away and admired the shininess on it. "So wet, baby, it could almost be called adorable."

"Oh, fuck yo-"

Two fingers slid inside me, and my words caught in my throat at the sudden, but not unwelcome, intrusion.

"What was that, sunshine?" Alex's shit-eating smile appeared above me as I panted, pumping her fingers at a steady pace. "Have something to say?"

I shook my head fiercely, relishing in the way my body relaxed under her touch. My headache was fading minute by minute, the tension seeping out my shoulders as I let myself forget everything else but Alex.

Her fingers felt heavenly, a thumb coming just to rest on my clit. She rearranged her hand slightly, crooking at exactly the right angle to have my back arching away from the sheets and pressing my chest into her. Alex buried her face in my neck, humming appreciatively at the panting moans I couldn't seem to stop escaping my lips.

All of a sudden I was empty, Alex had withdrawn her fingers and I whined almost pathetically at the loss of the feeling.

"Aww, don't worry baby," Alex's voice was slightly muffled as she stripped of the rest of her clothes. "I just thought you'd want something a little different."

Eyes widening, I nodded frantically and watched with fascination and anticipation as I watched her slip on a condom, hissing slightly.

It was only a few seconds before she was back, hovering over me and decorating my throat with red marks. Her lips danced up to my ear. "You ready?"

"Gods yes, Alex, please!"

I felt her lips curve into a smirk, and she pushed into me with one swift motion.

My toes curled and my fingers fisted in her hair as she began to hammer against me, hips meeting mine at a furious pace. Her nails dug into my legs as she used them for momentum, the slightly pain coursing through my veins and adding a new flavour to the pleasure she was giving me.

She kept up an impressive pace and I was wound so tight it wasn't long before Alex was reaching down a hand to swirl figure-eights into my clit.

Words weren't a possibility right now, overwhelmed by the glorious feeling of her fucking me into the mattress. I clung to her and make incoherent sounds of pleasure and desperation, mumbling something about needing to come, please, fuck Alex please please let me come please...!

"Come for me, that's it, so good, my beautiful one..." Alex's whispered encouragements in my ear drove me to the edge and pushed me off, and I threw my head back as I let out a choked cry as my orgasm crashed into me at full force.

From the low groan and stuttering of her hips, I vaguely recognised that Alex had come a moment after me.

We lay together, quiet and relaxed. My mind was pleasantly a little fuzzy and Alex was warm and soft and I whined longingly when she pulled out to get rid of the condom and get a towel. Always so careful, she smoothed the damp towel over my thighs and I shivered at the cold feeling. She smiled softly.

"Give me a minute, my sunshine, I'll be back."

Reluctantly I let her go, sitting up when she returned with a glass of water for me. "Drink it all and then we can have a nap, hm?"

I nodded, taking the glass with slightly shaky hands. Alex grinned and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

"So, how was that for stress relief?"

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

i really really hope this was okay? thank you so much for requesting!

[spxllcxstxr]

Bridge Over Troubled Water • R.L

(Gif not mine)

Requests: can you do a blurb with Remus where the reader is nervous and anxious, maybe has a tough week and he gives her a massage and helps her relax? — anon and Hi! can you write an imagine where the reader is dating Remus and is disappointed in her school grades / results and is overall doubting herself and is disappointed with herself? — @emmaev

Summary: Things are getting really tough. Remus is here for you.

Warnings: mention of food, not eating/skipping a meal, hunger, depression, anxiety, a bit of a panic attack, homework, school, self deprecating thoughts, kinda take how we’re feeling in this pandemic and that’s kinda what this fic is, Snape being an ass for like two sentences, crying

Word Count: 1.7k

A.N: I hope it’s alright that I combined your two requests. But, I decided to make it longer with a lot more comfort. I really hope it’s ok with you guys ❤️ Kinda a vent fic? So that’s why it’s lowkey all over the place and the ending is sorta..abrupt? I hope you like it, though. I wanna say that I’m always here for you guys. This whole thing has been kicking my ass and school has been extremely tough for me, so know that you’re not alone. Know that you’ve got this. I believe wholeheartedly in you. Love you all. ❤️

Title: Simon and Garfunkel - Bridge Over Troubled Water

****

You trudge up the stone steps to the boys dorms, your bag dragging heavily behind you. With your robes slipping from your shoulders and your tie dangling loosely around your neck, you almost consider letting your bag go. Watching the heavy sack of books tumble recklessly down the spiral staircase seems like a great idea to you. However, you make it to the sixth year dorms before you’re able to loosen your grip.

The oak door was closed but not locked. What use was a lock when the door was charmed to singe off the eyebrows of any unwelcome visitor? Thankfully, the boys granted you complete access to their room in third year, so the door couldn’t harm you.

Turning the brass doorknob and stepping through the threshold, you’re greeted by somewhat organized chaos.

Sirius and Peter’s side of the room was a complete disaster while James and Remus’ side was at least nicer to look at. Sure a few books were scattered on the floor and James’ red and yellow underwear was hanging from his bedpost visible to anyone who walked in, but that’s nothing compared to whatever the other two have going on. You don’t even want to look at it, knowing full well that just one tiny glance would make your already terrible day worse.

The room is empty and completely quiet, the boys, just like every other person in the castle, were down in the Great Hall for dinner. At the thought of dinner just downstairs, your stomach grumbles before quickly churning in agony.

Quickly, you dump your bag next to the door and go through Remus’ drawers, searching for that one specific jumper.

It’s the deep blue cable knit one that always smells like him. The jumper is soft and warm and the perfect piece of clothing to cuddle into when you needed a good cry. And Godric, you needed a good, long, ugly cry.

After finding it and throwing it on, you barely lift up your feet walking to your boyfriend’s bed to get swallowed up by his blankets.

The weight of the day hits you full force the moment your head collides with his pillow, and your lips wobbles, the day replaying in your mind.

Your morning started with a Transfiguration exam that definitely was not on what you studied all night for.

Then, your potion bubbled out of your cauldron and started disintegrating the stone flooring, making Slughorn shoot you very disappointed look that made you want to disappear into the Forbidden Forest forever.

Defense Against the Dark Arts turned into a complete disaster as well when Professor Bluebell handed back your essays on inferi, and yours ended up with a spikey red D scrawled angrily on the top. D, which stands for Dreadful, as Snape snidely reminded you from over your shoulder. He flashed you smug little smirk along with the delicate O that adorned his own essay.

And to top it all off, you had to meet up with Flitwick right after classes to go over the vinegar to wine charm that for some reason wouldn’t work for you no matter how hard you tried. And you still weren’t successful.

This was becoming a common occurrence.

You always knew that your N.E.W.T. year was going to be tough, but Merlin, you never expected it to be this awful.

Classes were longer and harder and your professors were relentless and unforgiving with the amount of homework and exams they started handing out.

Sure you had more free periods, but those were filled with research and essays and studying, you had no free time at all—it was all a lie.

You couldn’t escape it. Sleep was just more time to be plagued by anxiety to the point you barely even slept at all. Most of the time you stared blankly up at the ceiling thinking about all the assignments you could be doing instead.

It’s this torturous and vicious cycle that you just can’t get out of.

And your motivation was quickly disappearing.

It was getting tougher and tougher each time to even do your homework. Lifting up your quill and taking out a stack of parchment was just difficult. It took too much energy out of you.

Smothering your face in Remus’ pillow, you groan out your frustration, balling your fists around the frayed sleeves of the jumper.

You’re so wrapped up in your despair and panic that you don’t hear the door creak open and four sets of footfalls and laughter bounce around the room.

“Damn, what’s up with you?” Sirius chuckles. You hear him flop onto his own bed.

You bury your nose in the fabric of the jumper, inhaling the sweet and comforting scent of chocolate and old parchment that always accompanies Remus Lupin.

“Don’t be a git, Pads.” Remus scoffs, making his way towards you.

He crouches down by your head, placing a delicate thumb on your cheekbone.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” His tone turns soft, drenched with concern.

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, tears trickling down the bridge of your nose and dripping down to the white sheets.

“Alright, darling, hold on.” Remus whispers, placing a dainty kiss on your forehead.

He straightens up, knees creaking the way no sixteen year old’s should.

“Alright, lads, clear out.” Remus declares to his friends.

“You can’t kick me out of my room, Moony. No way.” You hear James whine.

“Yes, I can, Prongs, c’mon. Go play chess with Peter or something.”

“But he always beats me.”

“C’mon, Prongsie, we can scam the first years by making them place bets on you winning.” Sirius suggests. His boots click against the floorboards, trailing towards the door.

Peter’s light footsteps follow after them.

“Fine.” James huffs dramatically. “But I’m not sleeping on the couch again, so no funny business.”

The door slams shut and once again you’re met with silence, though you do hear Remus changing out of his uniform and into more comfortable attire.

The bed dips underneath Remus’ weight and his hand gently starts to stroke through your hair.

“Tell me what’s wrong, my love.” Remus mumbles just loud enough for you to hear.

You try to swallow down the lump in the back of your throat.

“Just a very shitty day, Rem.” You manage to croak out, the words choppy and wavering.

Tears begin to flow freely, warm salty streaks making their way down your face in rapid succession.

“Oh darling.” Remus coos, practically pulling you into his arms and between his legs. You bury your face into his neck, tears dampening his scarred flesh. “It’s alright, let it out.” He continues to run your hair between his fingers. “Let it all out...”

“I-I’m just so stupid!” You sob, choking on spit. “Everything’s just getting too much and I can’t fucking take it anymore!”

He squeezes you closer to his chest, opting to stay silent so you can vent everything off of your chest. His cheek is pressed to the top of your head and you’re vaguely aware that you’re being rocked gently back and forth.

“It’s so hard!” You continue to wail, lungs constricting rapidly. It’s a struggle to keep breathing and your words barely come out fully, instead broken fragments are the only things spewing out.

“I’m a failure!” You spit out, face wet with tears.

“You’re not a failure, my love. I promise.” Remus tried to soothe, his voice adopting a small but noticeable waver. His hand rubs your back.

“I am! I’m a disappointment!” You sniff, taking in deep gulps of air.

“Shh...” Remus pulls you back a bit so he can see your entire face.

You already know you look disgusting. Eyes blotchy and red, tears streaming down your face. Snotty, spitty, wobbling, and watery features taking up his entire vision.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, hm? Let me help.” He consoles you softly.

You gaze into his warm honey brown eyes, glistening with his own tears.

You sniff, rubbing the sleeves of Remus’ stolen jumper across your face in an attempt to dry yourself off.

“Everything’s slipping, Rem. My grades, my mental health, everything. And I’m so lost I don’t know what to do anymore.” You confess. “What am I supposed to do?” You bring your hands up to you hair, tugging at your scalp enough for you to feel sparks of pain.

Quickly, his own trembling hands take yours. He stops you from tugging, instead bringing them to rest on his jumper clad chest.

You swallow harshly.

“I’m going to help you, (Y/n)—“

“You can’t help me, Remus! I’m beyond help—“

“No, you’re not.” He retorts lightly. “I’ll help you with homework and help you ask for a few extensions...we can get you back on track.”

“Remus...” Your voice trembles at his kindness.

“I’m sorry.” He rasps out, a tear or two slipping from his waterline. “I’m so so sorry that I didn’t see you suffering like this. Merlin, (Y/n).”

Shaking his head at himself, he brings his forehead down to your own.

“I’ll be better. I’ll be better, I swear.” Remus keeps repeating in a pained mutter.

“It’s not your fault, Rem. I got good at acting like everything was fine.” Your voice cracks.

“Still! I should’ve realized!” He mutters angrily.

“I love you, Remus. I love you so much, please don’t beat yourself up over this.” You plead.

He bites his lip, deciding to drop it, instead focusing on you.

“Why don’t we try to relax, hm? Just take a nice night off?” Remus suggests, pulling away to brush strands of hair away from your sticky face.

“But what about homework—?”

“Tomorrow, love. I think we deserve a break, don’t you?”

You shlyly nod, and he presses his lips to your forehead.

“You’re beautiful, darling.” Remus whispers.

“I just bawled my eyes out, Rem, I’m sure I look like a swamp hag.” You snort.

He brings his hands to your shoulders, rubbing deep circles into your back muscles. The knots start to dissipate.

“Never seen a swamp hag as angelic as you.” Remus flirts. But his voice is so sincere and honest, you have no choice but to somewhat believe him.

“Thank you, Remus.” You smile. “It means so much to me.”

“Anything for the love of my life.” He confesses, trailing his pink lips down your neck. “Now let me hold you close.”

He lays down, resting his head on his pillow, your head resting on his chest.

Things are going to get better.

Probably not tomorrow.

Probably not this week.

But things will.

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20

[ancientpillarsoflori]

Academia Reading Log 03.2023

In the hopes that reading academia-related stuff will be more fun again if I treat it like a quirky, fun special interest and not, like, actual work?

Brumann, Christoph. 2012. Tradition, Democracy and the Townscape of Kyoto: Claiming a Right to the Past. New York: Routledge.

This took me forever to get through - I started it in the beginning of December and had to borrow it for about six times. Ultimately, my focus is gradually moving away from heritage, but I found it rewarding to read about the city I am living in nevertheless.

Robson, James. 2010. “Faith in Museums: On the Confluence of Museums and Religious Sites in Asia.” PMLA 125 (1): 121–28.

A good first glimpse into the topic, liked the emphasis on not orientalizing, but was a bit baffled by the reference to aesthetic philosophies by Hegel and Goethe - how is that relevant to new religions / museums in Asia? Wasn't clear to me, but made me mobilize my philosophy friends.

Introvigne, Massimo. 2016. “New Religious Movements and the Visual Arts.” Nova Religio: The Journal of Alternative and Emergent Religions 19 (4): 3–13.

Not the NRMs I am interested in at all, but main take away: depicting modernism as strictly anti- or areligious is grossly simplifying.

Clarke, David. 2011. “Contemporary Asian Art and the West.” In Globalization and Contemporary Art, edited by Jonathan Harris, 245–52. Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell.

The shortest of introductions :( Interesting: Modern / contemporary painters tend to be inspired by ancient / premodern Asian art, but don't take up interest in their Asian contemporaries; and: asymmetries of knowledge when it comes to knowing a canon of art.

Carter, Caleb. 2018. “Power Spots and the Charged Landscape of Shinto.” Japanese Journal of Religious Studies 45 (1): 145–74.

This was my jam. Mainly out of sheer curiosity, because I already saw quite a few power spot searchers at various shrines (from what I could tell).

Bader, Niels H. 2011. “Tourismus und Religion im Modernen Japan: Der Zen-Buddhistische Tempel Daiyūzan Saijōji als Reiseziel.” Transformierte Buddhismen 2 (2011): 55–78.

A shining example for the importance of localized expertise, but the writing and presentation did not pack much of a punch - why is this case study important or telling?

Berliner, David. 2018. “Can Anything Become Heritage?” In Sense and Essence: Heritage and the Cultural Production of the Real, edited by Birgit Maier and Mattijs van de Port, 299–305. New York, Oxford: Berghahn.

Begs the question, if things that become heritage possess some inherent qualities that set them apart from their more ordinary surroundings. Ultimately does not give any fruitful or interesting answers. :/

Up next:

make new reading list

make research question more tangible

distil read literature in big essay plan

begin presentation for end of May