#we discovered fish boy today and that was an experience

[queenofthekings]

@quinnigallagherjones and I hopping onto VC for three hours to only talk about Robert and our characters

[idialover]

!!NSFW!!!

My friends and I have a tradition of playing "does this character have sex" whenever we get into a new piece of media, because we always enjoy everything together, and today we spent a few hours discussing TWST charactrs. They found out that I now have a Tumblr blog and told me I should "post our very scientific findings for the interwebs" (Note that we are all between the ages of 16-17, so in the same age group as the characters)

Heartslabyul (general judgement): The virgin one

Riddle: no, and he somehow doesn't even know what sex is. You'd think he'd know with how much he studies about everything you learn in school, so even sex-ed but no, he doesn't know

Ace: gray area, no bitches respectfully, except maybe Deuce, but we couldn't agree on that, he would treat it as "it's just a prank bro, no homo"

Deuce: yeah, sure, I mean he's pretty okay looking, not often tho

Cater: he seems like he'd be a dicord kitten or an insta-thot, he tries but doesn't really succeed, maybe once or twice.

Trey: no, because he actually wears a fedora, unironically. "he's as bland as the flour he uses in his cakes"-my friend#2

Savanaclaw (general judgement): Gahdayumm!!

Leona: YES! absoulutley 100% just look at him, but he'd be one of those lazy tops, is very casual about it, there isn't a lot to say because it's just so obvious that he is 100% a sex haver

Ruggie: Hard to say, he has an Italian souding name so maybe no, he hasn't yet discovered that he can earn quite a lot of money that way, or maybe he has (we couldn't agree on this)

Jack: gay wolf boyfirend fantasy so yes, big buff man go brrrr

Octavinelle (general judgement): ehhhh, fish go brrr

Azul: this was a very hard one to decide but in the end no, no real reason just doesn't seem like he would have it, he's on that alpha buisness grindset

Jade: Yes becazse friend#1 said so (she's a strong Jade stan) and everyone decided to let her have this one, but everybody else generally thinks he is Asexual (friend#1 is also ace)

Floyd: yes, he is bisexual in wicked and scheming ways and everybody is aware of that. Chaos bi, him and Jade are two side of a coin, all or nothing. He flirts by messing with people, mostly Riddle but as I've already said Riddle has no idea what's going on and just thinks Floyd has it out for him

Scarabia (general judgement): This was the hardest one to discuss

Kalim: He is very lovable, but no, for unknown reasons, boy has 0 rizz

Jamil: yeah, ig, normal 17 year old guy, he isn't basic like Trey, but he just doesn't have time because of Kalim

Pomefiore (general judgement): slayyy!

Vil: Yes, and his standards are surprisingly not as high as you'd think, we got very heated about how people often mischaracterize him as a very vain but he just wants people to be themselves and best version of themselves. Good for cardio

Rook: yes, in freaky kinky ways (see Rook alchemy card) he sometimes has touble finding people who are into the same stuff as him

Epel: no, beacause he is an "alpha male" in the worst ways possible

Ignihyde (General judgement): you'd think they be reddit mods, but they actually tumblr sexymen

Idia: yes, he has that disheveled rizz, the more they look like they haven't left the house since 2015 the better. We stan broken men in this household(blog), only on halloween tho that's when his confidence get's a bit better and he becomes and active member of society

Ortho: he is a robot based on a young child! NO!

Diasomnia (General judgement): oooh spooky~~

Malleus: yeah sure

Silver: gray are (they demanded I make that pun, pls forgive me)

Lillia: He is the most slay character, an old vampire/fae obviously yes. He has a lot of experience, best sex haver he's so amazing, Lillia for the win

Sebek: no

Staff (general judgement): a very mixed bag

Crowley: someone somwhere slept with him, he is kinda usless but he gets laid, look at his vacation outfit

Crewel: Definetly, high standards but he is correct, he gets to have high standards, he is the perfect man, not a DILF but also not not one

Trein: yes, loyal to his wife (rip tho), good husband 10/10 would trust him, good man

Vargas: Yeah, he's a typical good looking guy, he has never had a long term relationship but he doesn't want one

Sam: We debated for a long time and decided that yes he does have sex

[wet-paws]

----------------🌿Self Worth🌿--------------

When we have a knack to hold experience after experience that every time we're shown kindness, given attention, shown a feigned sense of empathy, handed flowers and it burns to the ground,. We come to one of two conclusions. It was our fault, or it was theirs., and after a point, whichever or both, you grow a lack of trust. In your judgment, in your willingness to try again and experience that familiar hurt. That sting. That Stab.

Wanna know why it hurts? You wouldn't have done it to them like that, or not as knowingly without change.

Pain is pain. To love is to be vulnerable. You can not have it genuine without both those and this truth. Even the right fit will make mistakes.

The point is, we are all ALWAYS learning. Always. No matter whether we wait for the right algorithm in a pause as the world continues around us or we go with a pace to maintain as the blood flows. Don't let what happened at that time and that time and that time stop you from experiencing today how you want, need, and deserve. Today isn't that time. You never ever ever have to go back to that time or that time..

Today is your time, and you Can discover new times with someone you deserve. Someone who is patient with your heart. Someone who doesn't see the big picture after it's gone because they're celebrating all of it in the very real excitement and sometimes struggle to balance that within the Now. With you in the Now.

There is so much beauty in the world.

Like Beaches? Humans go there.

Like Nature and Parks? Humans go there.

Like Bookstores and Libraries? Humans go there.

Sure, youll have your crabgrass laden field time and again,. Don't give up chasing those wildflower hills. The open skies. The laughter. The whimsy. The love of love.

Don't give up on your heart because someone else couldn't hold it right. Take the time you need to evaluate how you want it held now, and take the time you need with someone to discover their intentions and efforts to match. If they can't wait, if they can't do the time to LEARN and find the things about you that make you brilliant in YOUR eyes., if they can't take the time to appreciate what makes you you, or for you to have time seeing them for who they are, Really Who they are.. Let them go have less somewhere else. They aren't ready for you. Not the other way around. Small morals don't lead big dreams. Small excuses will never set sail to the ocean of big possibilities.

Your Pace Is Your Own, but Set One.

Even if that means you're not into dating again, even if that means you're not into Boys™️ again.

Even if you decide to wait x time before you feel you've allowed yourself adequate time to be okay for you and prioritize you and get back to you, before even considering another Dip into that big ocean.. just do what makes you feel Happy. You deserve that. At the end of every day. With or without someone.

You deserve to be Happy. Because you Do.

No excuses about back when, not deserving..this and that..no.

Today is today, and you are still Living Organic Matter. That deserves peace, sunlight, hydration, a chance to journal to the moon in night,. The right PH in the soil of your planted surroundings.

You deserve that, because painful as summer was, then,. In scortching your earth and wilting your leaves.. fall is upon you,. A chance to shake off and drop all the weight of those things,. Let them fall as leaves do to the ground and fertilize the life again after frost has thawed and melted in. Give the warmth a chance to hold your shimmer a while., to see it feed your roots.

Breathe. Today, you're here for you. 🌿

___________________________________

[Friendly reminder that this tag 📖 in my tags list will ALWAYS lead you to Positivity. Self Health, Internal Growth And Development, Truthful Reassurance, Tools to learn HOW to Fish and not just more fish in the now.. it is not monitored who shares or uses these posts. These ones I write myself just for all of you. It's for all of us. Share it. Use it. Recycle it. Chew it like ginger gum. For an intrinsic boost of wellness.]

[scorchieart]

Stuck in Traffic Jam

Genre: Comedy

Characters: Clavis Lelouch & the foreign affairs faction

Wordcount: 600

Prompt: Stuck in a traffic jam

A/N: My gift for the 2023 Ikemen Exchange over on @flash-exchange for @spoopy-fish-writes! The request was for Clavis, but I think we can all agree his stories are infinitely more entertaining with the squad in tow.

The carriage lurched left, knocking Clavis’s arm from its perch on the windowsill and jerking him awake. He stifled a yawn and rubbed his eyes, blocking out the sunlight while taking in the familiar scene before him. Over the years he had grown accustomed to road trips passed without words, although those were typically the consequence of indifference among his faction members. But today’s was a stillness Clavis did not often experience in the company of Noble Beasts. 

The shaking disturbed Luke’s slumber for a moment, but whatever the boy was dreaming of proved superior to the aftershock of a bumpy road as he shook his head drowsily and muttered something about a legendary beehive before resting his head against Clavis’s shoulder and resuming his snoring. Nokto slept soundlessly across from the pair completely undisturbed by the wobbly ride, his arms and legs folded so tightly against himself he resembled a hibernating hedgehog. But it didn’t take long to discover why Nokto had squished himself to take as little space as possible as directly beside him sat several miniature towers of books, the steadfast arm of Chevalier wrapped protectively around them. Chevalier’s other arm was preoccupied with keeping the book he was reading steady as the carriage traversed through the rough terrain, and the sight made Clavis heckle on dried saliva as he cleared his throat in disdain.

“We’re not there yet?” Clavis asked, his voice grainy with sleep. Without waiting for the reply Chevalier certainly would never give, Clavis carefully lowered Luke’s head onto the seat beside him and stuck his head out the window. 

With all the jerking and jostling the carriage was making, Clavis was sure their snoozing squad had stumbled upon some obscure mountain path on their way to the Jadean Royal Gala, but one look outside showed flatlands as far as the eye could see. Puzzled, he looked at the ground and watched the thin wheels of the carriage violently rise and fall as they rolled over hundreds of randomly-shaped chunks of wood scattered across the road, each one battered and chipped as if a tree had been ripped apart. The carriage bucked and jolted as it crossed each piece, and as Clavis turned his head to ask the driver why they were taking this path he spotted dozens more carriages lined up in front of them slowly bumbling over the woody route in turn. 

“Apologies, Your Highness!” the driver called when he noticed Clavis’s top half dangling outside the window. “A herd of sheep have broken out of their pen and are blocking the path ahead. This is the quickest route to Jade, I’m afraid, so we’ll have to wait until they settle.”

“How obscene!” Clavis yelled, crawling back into the carriage and frantically poking Luke’s arm. “Get up! No, I don’t have any honey, but this is no time to eat! I bet exclusive selling rights of my next entry in the Lelouch Trap Series on us getting there before Prince Silvio— Nokto! Up, up!”

“How come Chevie doesn’t hafta go?” Luke whined blearily as Clavis latched onto his and Nokto’s wrists.

“He’s not complaining,” Clavis said, forcing open the carriage door with a sharp kick. The carriage lilted at a snail’s pace, but that didn’t stop Clavis from leaping out with boundless flourish and bolting towards the Jadean palace. Onlookers from within carriages watched with awe at the manic prince dragging two half-asleep men in his wake, but in all the commotion Chevalier merely sighed, laid his books out more evenly on the now-emptied seats, and casually flipped to the next page.

I admire and envy anyone with the superpower to read books in a moving vehicle. I nearly vomit when I so much as read a text on my phone.

Tagging: @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @venulus @thewitchofbooks @leonscape @rhodolitesrose @venti-tangents @dear-sciaphilia @ikesenwritings @myonlyjknight @ladyofcrowsx @otomefoxystar @my-day6

If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please send me an ask or a message.

[aaluminiumas]

See You Tomorrow

At any other time of day and week, St. Patrick’s would be overcrowded, but today, for some reason, no one showed up. Abandoned, shabby, and merely whitewashed, the church looked especially dilapidated and decrepit. How did they manage to live in such a ramshackle place? How did they grow used to the dull and stultifying landscapes enshrouding them every morning when they opened their eyes? How did they find the vivacity to arrange fairs and local competitions while he strove to impel himself to return to the island each time he visited the Vatican?

           He sighed and leaned back in the confessional, mentally asking for forgiveness. Someone had to do it, he reminded himself. You chose this path; no one forced you into a school of theology. Truth be told, he never doubted his vocation: since the death of his little sister, John struggled to find a purpose, and God seemed to be the perfect answer to all his aspirations. Lonely and confused, the boy rummaged in books, spoke to his parents, and tried to contemplate the situation by himself, but only the parish priest turned out to be competent enough to offer a decent explanation. It didn't mollify him at the time but granted the young man the necessary respite to resurface from his grief and get back to the daily routine. The salubrious effect of the conversation with the cleric lasted sufficiently long for John to make the decision that defined his entire life: the day Bishop Burke ordained him became one of the most memorable moments. John Pruitt, a mere fledgling without any decent experience, finally found his place within the confines of the church.

        Pruitt cast another glance at his watch. 7:30pm. Usually punctual, not a single congregation member turned up. It happened every once in a while. At first, John felt mildly offended and insecure: if his people refused to attend, that was his fault; he failed to deliver God's message and inspire his congregation. Judging by the example set by his role models at the seminary and in the Vatican, he felt he could not compare: his reasonings sounded lame, his wording lacked power and ethos, his tall frame, looming over the pulpit, might have created an impression of a hangman, rather than a compassionate guide, a shepherd, willing to bolster his sheep and help them discover the right way. When the initial stage of self-criticism came to a close, John realized that he was never the one to blame. Unlike residents of bigger cities, local dwellers dedicated all their time to work, as their lives naturally depended on it: women who worked at school or in a store could certainly not survive on their own, so they relied on their husbands, dealing with fishing and sailing. They would occasionally stop by and listen to the preachings when the weather threatened their boats, and the men felt robust enough—and bored enough—to socialize with their neighbors at St. Patrick's. Obviously, today, though cloudy, was a good day, and no one was eager to confess.

           At this, the priest smiled. Sins on Crockett were never too hideous: these were truly religious people who sometimes strayed and needed direction. Someone drank too much, others ate too much; a case of adultery was reported, and maybe the pious Keanes exaggerated the inadvertently exacerbating situation with the deteriorating morals, never admitting their own arrogance and a knack for gossip. But aren’t we all like this? Aren’t we all inclined to make wrong decisions and overindulge in minor temptations? Aren’t we all flawed human beings, more or less exposed to the imperfections of this world? Aren’t these problems, so pathetically commonplace and hackneyed, perennial and common for any diocese, regardless of location? In this case, he shouldn’t complain: at any rate, no one had confessed to a felony or a sin he would have a hard time to absolve.

           Pruitt looked at his watch once again, and, following the hand striking eight with his eyes, he reached for the stole to take it off. Suddenly, the man heard the light steps softly echoing in the empty church.

           His heart missed a beat. He knew exactly who was coming.

            The woman quietly stepped into the confessional, and the priest sensed an unfamiliar bout of frisson spreading across his body in a warm wave.

He couldn't see her face, of course, but by the rustling of her clothes, he understood that she knelt and folded her hands in a silent prayer. She seemed hesitant, and he didn't hurry her: after all, they had an eternity ahead of them, as no one was going to accidentally turn up this late in the evening. Usually, Pruitt would tenderly nudge parishioners, knowing that soon their confession would eventually trickle out through the lattice of the booth; with Mildred, he did no such thing.

In a few minutes, she finally spoke.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” Millie whispered in a low voice. Pruitt envisioned her tiny frame, sloping shoulders and hands folded in prayer and pressed to the forehead. “I committed a mortal sin—” 

The man gave a start. What could she have done? This innocent woman, always smiling, always immensely kind and considerate? What did she consider a mortal sin? He almost bit his tongue, suppressing a weird urge to call her by name. 

 “I…” she paused, trying to find the right words, “I fell in love with a man I cannot be with.” 

Her words startled him further. Of all the people he had met, she might be the only one who deemed feelings to be a sin: even those who cheated on their spouses latched onto the thought that love was a blessing sent directly by God. A rudderless blessing, as one parishioner said; no matter how daunting it seems at the beginning, you eventually give in. John couldn't stifle a cackle that time, and now he was exposed to a completely different point of view. 

"But love's never a sin," John heard himself saying. "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins... And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity... These are the verses that come to mind immediately, but there are many more." 

Millie paused, and he got an impression that it was stubborn taciturnity rather than that of acceptance. The priest didn't know the woman well, but from his short exchanges with her, he deduced that she hardly agreed with other dwellers on the island. An overt, outright rebellion would endanger her independence, so she remained affable, but it never meant she supported all the ideas voiced at local gatherings. She lived her simple life as the next man, creating an inner bubble of things she enjoyed. 

“Why do you think it's wrong to love a man?” 

She adjusted her dress and sighed. 

“Not any man. One particular man.” 

The priest felt tension growing, his mouth going dry for no reason whatsoever. He cleared his throat. 

“Is he married?” 

           Another pause. 

           “In a way.” 

  In a way. What does this even mean? Did she get seduced by a stranger from the outer world who deceived her and abandoned her after he satisfied his needs? 

Before he managed to contrive a decent answer, the woman continued, “Well, he’s… not married in the full sense of the word, but he’s sworn, too. Oath bound,” Millie said vaguely in a coarse voice. “And I do not know… I do not know how much longer I will be able to hide it. To pretend that everything’s fine.”

John contemplated it for a moment. He had heard a great deal of confessions, each scarier than the previous; he talked to his superiors at seminary, consulted them, discussed the entire topic, not sure how to behave around murderers and terrorists who decided to find their way to God; he mentally prepared himself for all types of complications, but this one was never on the list. The man couldn't deny his own curiosity and shame, his bizarre urge to see this woman's face and hear her calm voice, but her confession, so obvious in its honesty and candor literally pulled the floor out from under him. Was it possible that she—

 “Why…” he swallowed thickly, feeling the words sticking to the back of his throat, “Why won’t you tell him?” 

Millie seemed genuinely surprised, but when she replied, her voice sounded firm.  

 “I… it won’t do any good to either of us. I do not want to be the reason for his falling. Let me be the sinner.”

 “But you did not commit any mortal sin. Our emotions can be utterly illogical; sometimes we make decisions based on our speculations, and—”

“Thank you, Father.”

Mildred seemed to be putting a stop to his lengthy monologue, but she didn't leave immediately, and he didn't have the heart to send her away. Instead, they were just sitting there quietly, listening to the distant rumble of the upcoming storm, both reluctant to break the fragile connection forging between them: they could always pin the blame on the weather, if someone planned to question her late return. Would anyone plan to question her late return, though?.. He knew she lived alone as her mother had left for the mainland and her father had died, but was she involved in any kind of relationship? George Gunning attempted at courting her, but the only reaction he seemed to be receiving was a polite smile and a lemon pie she brought as a courtesy. She still smelled bakery, violets, and sea salt. A most fascinating combination of fragrances, especially to someone so used to frankincense…

The woman shifted slightly behind the lattice, and he heard a quiet sigh. She came here seeking validation and warmth, and he only managed to utter a few general words that probably did no good.

“Millie… Mildred,” he called softly after another long pause, suddenly going against all the formalities and regulations, implying that he be absolutely impartial. But what’s the point of playing this game when she already knew he was aware of who exactly knelt in the narrow compartment next to him? “Thank you for your honesty.”

He couldn’t see her, but he sensed a slight change: she shifted, or gave a start, or moved to hide her rosary that was knocking against wood. For some reason, he envisioned her caramel eyes staring directly at him.

“It takes a lot of a person to speak their heart out,” Pruitt started pensively, carefully choosing every word. “And I appreciate it that you trust me.” He paused for a moment. “I… am honored to be able to discuss it with you, even though I cannot say I have any expertise in the field of human relationships… Thank you, Mildred. You may be dismissed.”

She didn’t respond right away, as if she needed a moment to process his words. But when he finally heard her voice, he could make out a smile, which inevitably caused her face to appear in front of his mind’s eye: always cheerful, kind, and gentle, Millie waved her hand to attract his attention and invited him for tea. He rarely rejected: she eagerly listened to his endless stories, and was genuinely interested in history and art.

“No ‘your sins are forgiven, go in peace’?” she drawled in a soft voice, grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

“I’ll give you the absolution whenever you need it, but for now you don’t seem to have committed a sin,” he replied in the same lighthearted voice, feeling relieved. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

When the door behind her closed, father Pruitt leaned back in the confessional and thought that maybe—just maybe—he had made the wrong choice.

[copperbora]

About a month ago, my work friend J hired me to walk her stud Welsh corgi (Cardigan/Pembroke cross - yes, there are two breeds of corgi,) Whiskey. This has been my first time getting to walk and really spend time with a dog and it has been the best kind of learning curve.

I love Whiskey; he is such a topnotch friend and I have discovered so much from him already. Going into this I was armed only with decades of truly obsessive research about canines. I knew to keep a vast horde of dog bags in my pocket and carry treats but I didn't realize at the start that I really should also carry hand sanitizer because picking up pup poop isn't always the most... hygienic experience. Still, I do it diligently and it really isn't a big deal, so those people who think picking up warm dog poop with a bag is too disgusting? Get over yourselves. It's a complete non-issue although I'm always delighted at the sight of a garbage can so that I can free up my hands.

Again: hand sanitizer is your friend!

Also, it's better if the leash is attached to your waist; I just use an old leather belt around my middle and it's kinda amazing how well this completely curbs Whiskey's desire to pretend to be a sled dog racing the Iditarod. It's additionally just nicer having my hands free and I can get cuter pictures of Whiskey this way. (Although he admittedly rarely stops moving.)

It's fun. We hike for an hour, approximately five kilometres which is good exercise and mental stimulation for both of us. I'm a human with rather terrible mental health and he's a dog who spends many of his days being bored out of his mind at home. On the trail we both relax and find peace, which brings me to my favourite things that I have learned from Whiskey.

Walking with Whiskey we often find things that I never would have noticed hiking by myself.

He's led me to a dead fish no doubt dropped by an osprey, a dead mouse, a bone, and an absolutely enormous nest of woodland ants. He's even pointed out wildlife to me, like this herd of mule deer!

And, most importantly, he keeps me company. Hiking alone for years has been hard on me; my parents can no longer keep up so I usually find myself going solo. It hurts, remembering the days when I used to have trail companions but I don't feel lonely hiking anymore with Whiskey!

I think the very best thing about him though is that he truly cares. Today, driving back to his home I got spooked by a male human suddenly coming up to my car when I paused for another pedestrian. The moment we were safely away Whiskey nuzzled my face and I felt much better.

I knew that dogs were pretty smart but Whiskey is definitely a full person in a vertically challenged canine body. From the unimpressed looks he gives me when he is pooping and he notices me watching to how he lets me walk onto a hillock to check out a view then gently but firmly leads me back onto the trail, he's a whole person.

I really feel deeply grateful for getting to have him as a hiking partner; he's a really good boy.

Here's to many more trails together.

[lmenvs3000f24]

LMENVS3000F24

My relationship with nature is personal and held at an upmost importance, framed through stewardship and sustainability. From a young age, I was exposed to the outdoors and set free to explore the natural world in front of me through my very own senses. I recount experiences such as capturing frogs while wearing only swim trunks, embarking on hikes, searching for the unknown and discovering everything that nature has to offer along the way. I have hiked upon herds of white tail deer, flocks of wild turkeys, numerous unique bird species, lizards and snakes, just to recount a few. I have endured all types of climates, sleeping under the stars in beautiful summer weather as well as contrasting winter storms. Throughout all my experiences in nature, a certain activity has captivated me since I was a child. That being fishing. For the last 10 years of my life and specifically throughout my high school and post secondary career, fishing has been what I live for. They say that the tug is the drug and I may be an addict. From my perspective fishing is the perfect coalition of skill, technique, art and peace, set in the beautiful outdoors.

Fishing teaches its students valuable life lessons which are intertwined into the seemingly meaningless actions of the sport. Along the way we learn that success requires hard work and those who ethically hunt for victory will be rewarded. We learn sustainability practises, conservation and stewardship; ideas which are constant throughout all realms of life. It is critical that we take care of our earth and respect its finite resources or activities like fishing would simply be no longer.

Fishing has led me all over the world, whether it be a specific fishing mission or an exploratory adventure, fishing provides my friends and I with a mutualistic activity, highlighting the ultimate respect and battle between human and animal. The respect I have for fish species and the migratory journeys they complete is unmatched. Fish and their natural environments deserve top tier recognition for being resilient species full of life and determination.

My uncle and father can be held responsible for introducing me into the sport of fishing. They took me out fishing and boating all over the southern great lakes when I was a young boy, inspiring me to pursue fishing in my future. Fishing to me became something more then just the activity in and of itself, it became an escape, a chance to breath and think and reflect on reality and the situations unfolding around me. Allowing me to clearly evaluate situations throughout and retain strong mental health. Without fishing and my deep connection with outdoors I couldn’t predict where I would be today.  

[konaboyshawaiioceantours]

"Experience the Best of Kona with Stand-Up Paddle Boarding!"

Exploring the Best Stand Up Paddle Boarding Spots in Kona, Hawaii's Big Island

Welcome to an in-depth journey into the world of stand up paddle boarding (SUP) in Kona, Hawaii! If you're craving the ultimate tropical adventure, you've come to the right place. Join us as we uncover the top 10 spots for paddle boarding in Kona, each offering pristine waters and awe-inspiring vistas.

1. Keauhou Bay: Dive headfirst into the crystalline waters of Keauhou Bay, where every stroke of your paddle unveils hidden coves along the coastline.

2. Kailua Bay: Immerse yourself in the vibrant marine life of Kailua Bay, surrounded by colorful coral reefs and a plethora of tropical fish.

3. Kamakahonu Beach: Discover serenity at Kamakahonu Beach, a tranquil haven perfect for paddle boarding enthusiasts of all levels.

4. Kahalu'u Beach Park: Explore the gentle waters of Kahalu'u Beach Park, an ideal spot for beginners looking to refine their paddle boarding skills.

5. Honaunau Bay: Find peace amidst the tranquility of Honaunau Bay, known for its calm waters and captivating underwater scenery.

6. Kealakekua Bay: Unravel the historic charm of Kealakekua Bay as you paddle past ancient Hawaiian landmarks and pristine shoreline.

7. Kukio Beach: Indulge in luxury paddle boarding at Kukio Beach, where you can gracefully glide across the water and bask in the sun's warm embrace.

8. Anaeho'omalu Beach: Embark on an adventure at Anaeho'omalu Beach, where paddle alongside sea turtles and explore intriguing lava rock formations.

9. Mauna Kea Beach: Savor a day of paddle boarding at Mauna Kea Beach, surrounded by powdery sands and glistening turquoise waters.

10. Puako Bay: Conclude your paddle boarding odyssey at Puako Bay, a hidden gem offering secluded beaches and unparalleled natural beauty.

Whether you're an experienced paddler or a novice, Kona has something special for everyone. Join us as we delve into the beauty and tranquility of stand up paddle boarding in Hawaii's Big Island.

For those eager to embark on their own SUP adventure, Kona Boys is your ultimate guide. Offering rentals, classes, and tours, Kona Boys ensures a seamless and unforgettable experience on the water. Plan your SUP excursion today and let the waves guide you to paradise!

Aloha nui loa! 🌺

[whitepolaris]

Land of Fruits, Nuts, and Flakes

Milledgeville lost the state capital following the Civil War but retained two government entities even less savory than the state legislature-the Georgia State Lunatic Asylum and the Georgia State Prison.

Four miles below Milledgeville on the Oconee River is an ancient Native American meeting place named Oconee Town. Creeks, Cherokees, and Hitchiti Indians met regularly here to trade. The Cherokee brought fur, gold, and copper; the Creek had ceremonial pots, woven baskets, and grain; and the Hitchiti moved seashells and dried fish. Wars were declared and peace was negotiated, but no fighting occurred at this neutral site. A number of prominent Indians buried there, with large mounds of earth piled over them.

Many years passed, the Native Americans were removed, and Milledgeville became the capital of Georgia. Then in, 1834, Governor Wilson Lumpkin asked the Georgia State Legislature to care for the "idiots, lunatics, and the insane." And so, in 1842, Central State Hospital for the Mentally Ill was constructed just south of the city of Oconee Town. The ancient Indian mounds were leveled, their remains forming the foundations of the various hospital buildings.

At one time, the asylum was the second-largest hospital/prison complex in the United States. Hundreds of thousands of Georgians-men and women, boys and girls, white and black, rich and poor-were committed because of mental illness, retardation, or often simply because they were unwanted by their families. Over the 160-year history of the asylum, between 20,000 and 30,000 patients died here of various causes and were buried in four cemeteries, segregated by sex and race. The graves were identified only by numbered stakes, which have been largely discarded, and today no one knows the boundaries of the cemeteries or even how many acres they covered. Along with these abandoned graves, the hospital also has the state's most bizarre museum, which displays one of the earliest electric-shock machines and implements used for lobotomies.

In 2000, a young woman named Kelly was a student at Georgia College and State University in Milledgeville. She discovered that the mental hospital was a place where many "crazy experiments . . . occurred," as she wrote at www.guardiantales.com. Those experiments left a lot of dead, but perhaps not departed, patients. According to Kelly, one structure, abandoned for forty years, is known for its paranormal activity.

In 1996, three separate groups of students entered the building, but "all were arrested for breaking and entering," she stated. The participants all spent a night in jail, but Kelly was determined to mount a successful (i.e., jail-free) expedition.

Finding a window, ajar, Kelly and her companions entered the cavernous buildings. In a second-floor room they found "thousands of footprints, which looked thrown sporadically about. The reason we could see them was because am accumulation of sawdust from the ceiling had fallen to the floor below. Sawdust, like snow falling each day, would cover up those ghostly tracks, unless the floor was 'dance' upon each day. I say 'danced' because of the number of footprints and the positions they made."

On the third floor, "the air temperature dropped to (estimated guess) 50 degrees. One friend turned on the light and screamed, 'Did you feel that? Did you hear IT coming?' Then he ran down the stairs. As we ran down after him, all of us could feel the cold air following us."

The team made a successful exist and returned to their dorms with no cops trailing them but with some great stories to tell.

Getting the Ghost Treatment at Central State

Trust me-this hospital is the one you always hear about. You can ride by there late at night and see people standing in the windows. It has roughly fifteen old and abandoned buildings that have been there forever. You can probably say that this a real-life house on haunted hill except that has multiple buildings instead of just one. Every time I've gone, it has been at night. I set up some video recorders in a lot of the rooms, but the greenroom is where I got most activity. I actually saw an apparition walking back and forth in front of the recorder. I didn't have any trouble from authorities, because I know them. And every part of the old hospital still exists there. -watchinger2345, ghosthounds.com

Hauntings Past and Present

I have found Central State Hospital to be one of the most eerie places I've ever seen. The threats there are real. Some are human. Some are beyond human. All are very terrifying.

I was once deep inside a truly isolated portion of the abandoned buildings when I saw movement, hit the wall, and froze. A completely crazy man lumbered past me, wearing torn-up flannel shirt and the filthiest pair of jeans I'd ever seen. He had long, unkempt hair and was rambling maniacally to himself. Luckily, he didn't see me, and I got out of that wing and rounded up the rest of my party, and we left. Since then, I have never gone into any room of Central State alone.

I have heard many rumors that homeless weirdos and freaked-out former inmates live deep within the bowels of these buildings. They return here because they have been so brutalized and have witnessed so much wrong that they can no longer function in normal society. For years, I had heard this but brushed it off as nothing more than a series of tall tales. Now I believe these tales to be just the tip of the iceberg.

There are other people you want to avoid while visiting this place-not former inmates, but current ones. The government sends inmates from other prisons to clean up the wreckage of this abandoned place. Mostly it's an excuse for these incorrigibles to get some hours outdoors. I have heard many tales that during these furloughs, the inmates slip away into some dark recess and evade capture from the guards. I've heard that some go missing for days at a time and hide inside the old prison. You can imagine that men in this state of mind would go to any length to stay free. Apparently, many unfortunate explorers have ventured into the prison and have never emerged. It's thought that they had fallen prey to those desperate refugees hiding and praying not to be caught once again.

While the human treats are scary, even scarier are the many ghosts and phantoms that haunt the halls of Central State. It is rumored that hundreds of patients died here in fights and beatings, and of disease and neglect. As you can imagine, there are many restless souls, who never found peace, that still linger here.

I have personally seen lights coming out of windows of rooms with no electricity. I've heard footsteps behind me in hallways I knew were empty. Once, I heard a man chuckling every time I stopped on sweltering-hot summer days that were colder than your average refrigerator interior. I have walked into other rooms where all of my electronic equipment shuts off by itself and my hair stands on end from static electricity.

I know that what I'm saying sounds insane. I'd be the first to agree with you-it is insane. But it is all true. I have found the reality of this place to be even scarier and more sensational than the hundreds of stories I have heard about it over the years. -James Goot

[newberyandchai]

Dead End in Norvelt (2012)

I think this might be the blog's first 10/10!

Dead End in Norvelt doesn't really have a plot in the traditional sense — sure, there's a mild murder suspicion in the background and a semi-mystery about a loaded WWII Japanese gun that's introduced in the first few pages, but I really resonated with the depictions of the weirdness of everyday life as a tweenage boy.

(...which says a lot, considering I'm a girl more than double the main character's age.)

From nosebleeds and Commies to cornfields and Grim Reapers, this autobiographical novel takes place just to the east of Pittsburgh, and I was familiar with many of the places mentioned. It made it feel even more real and made me think about what this area might have looked like decades ago. Pittsburgh to me feels very now, but the novel was set in the early 1960s -- how many stroads like Route 51 and Route 22 today were once farmland or part of someone's backyard?

This book really reminded me of Criss Cross, another definite 10/10 Newbery winner that I loved (and highlighted to death) as a self-conscious middle schooler in 2006. Nothing really happens in it aside from the characters having thoughts about themselves or the people around them in relation to what they experience day to day -- perhaps the nicer term is "no action" -- which lets you think about your own life in the context of appearing as a novel and having stories to tell that are important in their own small ways.

“But here in Norvelt we had one of those librarians who collected the tiniest books of human history. Mrs. Hamsby, who died yesterday at age seventy-seven, was the first postmistress of Norvelt, and she saved all the lost letters, those scraps of history that ended up as undeliverable in a quiet corner of Norvelt. But they were not unwanted. Mrs. Hamsby carefully pinned each envelope to the wall, so that the rooms of her house were lined from floor to ceiling with letter upon letter, and when you arrived for tea it appeared as if the walls were papered with the overlapping scales of an ancient fish. You were always welcome to unpin any envelope and read the orphaned letter, as if you were browsing in a library full of abandoned histories.

"Each room has its own motif of stamps, so that the parlor room is papered with stamps as if people such as Lincoln, or Queen Elizabeth, or Joan of Arc had come to visit. The bedroom has the stamps of lovely landscapes you might discover in your dreams, and the bathroom has stamps with oceans and rivers and rain. Each stamp is a snapshot of a story, of one thin slice of history captured like an ant in amber. there is history in every blink of an eye, and Mrs. Hamsby knew well that within the lost letter was the folded soul of the writer wrapped in the body of the envelope and mailed into the unknown. And for this tiny museum of lost history, we citizens of Norvelt thank her.”

If I were to write a book, I think it would end up very much like this one. (Would I be jinxing the idea if I said I've already got some "chapters" laid out?) The format is very appealing to me because it's impossible to make predictions about the direction it will go in; there are connecting threads between everything that goes on, but this kind of story doesn't follow a predictable hero's journey trope or have the first character of the opposite sex become the love interest, etc.

I'm reminded of listening to "Ira Glass on Storytelling" while walking to a morning class in college:

"One of the things that’s very unfortunate for people who are launching into the kind of jobs that people who are making videopods are launching into, is that often you’ll have an anecdote which just kills, it’s just so interesting, like this thing happens and it leads to the next and it leads to the next and it’s so surprising and so many things happen and you meet these great characters. And it means absolutely nothing. It’s just completely predictable, it doesn’t tell you anything new. And so that’s one huge problem. And then the other huge problem is you’ve got a kind of boring set of facts, a boring story, and actually someone has something kind of interesting to say about it."

10/10 and certified Recommendable.

[armchairambrose]

Five books of 2022

A lot has gone on over the past year, a wonderful relationship and living out the dream of becoming a married man, new jobs, being forced into unemployment due to disability TWICE, and watching the beautiful growth of the friends I love, which has given me much time to sit and read, and at the same time, not enough at all. I normally try to read at least a book a week, or something that amounts to that, to have the target of 52 books in a year. I've done this for years, ever since I had been first involved in assisting to found and operate a children's literary program in my home state of Connecticut. This year, I only recorded reading 40 books, including some manga and graphic novels as well. I'd like to list a few of the books or series I'd read, and encourage others to pick them up and experience the same.

1: Your Inner Fish (Neil Shubin) a book about the discover of tiktaalik; the first know landwalking creature and a step of evolution that brought about everything we know today. Shubin is a paleontologist and his team were the ones who found this ancient ancestor of ours, and his book is a wonderful excursion into that world of history and biology that inspires the reader to trek out in search of fossils of their own. He also gives pointers to beginners on where to look and how to search.

2: The Hussite Trilogy (Andrzej Sapkowski) The author of the Witcher series has written a second series, the three books Tower of Fools, Warriors of God, and Light Perpetual. The books were written two decades ago now but have only just been translated in the wake of the Netflix (Bastardizing) adaptation of his more popular media. While the Witcher universe and characters are bold and lush, the Hussite trilogy is doubtlessly the better written series. Main character Reinmar of Beilawa is accused of witchcraft and heresy in Christian Silesia during an era of war, and the series follows the rambunctious young alchemist and his newfound friends; a penitent and a spirit from beyond possessing the body of a giant, as they wisp back and forth through crusades and the boundaries of the physical and spiritual world. A wonderfully entertaining series that demands polylinguism from the reader, but it must be said that the book was written in a time and place without tact, and makes use of harmful stereotypes about people with mental handicaps.

3:Monotone Blue (Nagabe) a manga about two young gay men, one a cat and the other a lizard with a shining blue tail. The short one shot manga romance follows an apathetic and depressive cat who is simply bored with his life, focusing on expressing his monotonous life through partial color-blindness, until a transfer student, the only lizard he's met at this point in his life comes in, and his shining bright blue tail is accidentally exposed, garnering attention from the cat. The two act as an unlikely pair, and don't fully understand each other, but fall in love as they begin to comprehend their emotions together. The story does require a content warning of abusive behavior and sexual assault.

4:The Things They Carried (Tim O'Brien) I'm not normally one to be interested in military stories, as I've always found them to be romanticized versions of events, glorifying war or soldiers and letting the readers remain ignorant of the horrors it causes. However, this was a recommendation of a good friend of mine, and I picked up a copy with mild expectations. This is the first war story I have read that treats "Our boys" with the level of cold realism I feel is necessary for talking about war, especially real wars. The Things They Carried is about a troupe of American military men, following primarily one soldier in an auto-biographical format from just before the war and his thoughts and impulses to dodge the draft, to long after the war has ended, as a man who put the killing past him and holds no grudge- and thinks that the Vietnamese have also forgotten the ravages to their home country. This book carries the weight of acknowledgement, that our good old boys were gleeful in killing children, tying explosives to animals, burning villages and raping women. There are chapters where the biographer calmly talks about shooting every man and boy in a village as revenge for one of his comrades being killed by a sniper, and then just as calmly talks about his meal the next night. This book explains war as it is.

5: The Order of Time, and Helgoland (Dr. Carlo Rovelli) Two introductory books to quantum physics written by one of the most brilliant physicists we have today, these two books teach from a base level what the fundaments of advanced physics are, the coming about of quantum physics, and explanations about space time and the structure of the universe. While sometimes you may find yourself reading the same page again to ensure yourself, the work of this physicist in particular function as a fine diving board to get into the sciences with.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Camp Hero in Montauk Point, New York- a former military base abandoned in the 1980s, and the alleged site of sinister government experiments. Its buried sinister past was the inspiration for the show “Stranger Things.” 

Today, Camp Hero is a New York State-run public park with nearly 800 acres of wild beaches, dense forests and wetlands. But dotted around the park you will find the ruins of its past life, that we’re going to look into, today.

From its beginning, Camp Hero was built with deception in mind. It was the height of subterfuge, disguised as a fishing village to fool Nazi reconnaissance.

Concrete military buildings were painted with fake wood sidings and false windows to resemble cottages.

But Camp Hero would soon become overshadowed by whispers of something much more sinister: A series of highly top secret, government run experiments, known as the Montauk Project.

US intelligence embarked on a fiercely aggressive program to track down as many Nazi scientists and technicians as possible. Codenamed Operation Paperclip, nearly 1,600 captured Nazi scientists were secretly relocated to the US, and put to work on a wide range of  projects. (A lot of them are smiling.)

But, apparently the covert Operation Paperclip also included German scientists & doctors who worked on biological research and medical treatments, such as  the use of mescaline – a powerful psychedelic comparable to LSD. Their mission: To create a powerful new weapon that could control human minds.

A sealed entrance to Camp Hero’s alleged underground facilities. It is claimed the subterranean floors were flooded with cement once the project was shut down in the early 1980s.

Most of Camp Hero’s conspiracy theories center around the enormous 126 foot radar dish, that is perched on a windowless concrete monolith that towers over the other abandoned buildings in the park.

The giant radar would give the United Sates a 30 minute warning should the unthinkable happen.

Around New York City alone, there were 19 secret and heavily guarded Nike missile sites, part of what the US Army called a ‘Ring of Supersonic Steel.’ (An abandoned silo is pictured above.)

Nike missile control room.

But the giant radar dish had a peculiar side effect: It produced a signal as high as 425MHz, a frequency that routinely disrupted TVs and radios in the homes of  residents. It was also a frequency that was rumored to disrupt the human brain.

According to the 1992 book, The Montauk Project: Experiments in Time, the facility had 12 levels under the radar station, where psychological warfare techniques using electromagnetic radiation on homeless people and runaway teenagers, known as ‘the Montauk Boys,’  ranged from mind control to psychic abilities and even time travel.

One explorer said he discovered an underground tunnel at the end of which was a “heavy door, and it had a heavy wheel, like a bank vault.” Alongside other sealed entrances, he uncovered rooms decorated with highly psychedelic patterned wallpaper.

Most intriguingly of all, he found records of vast quantities of food being ordered to Camp Hero in the late 1980s, at a cost of $80,000 a month, years after the US Military had decommissioned the base.

Sceptics, however, should delve into the documents entered into the public record by a 1977 Congressional investigation into a CIA run project called MK- Ultra.

Approved by CIA director Allan Dulles in 1953, Project MK-Ultra conducted hundreds of experiments under the title of “Research In Behavioral Modification.” Some of the participants in the experiments were volunteers. In one study, volunteers were given LSD for a consecutive 77 days. Other experiments in ‘mind control’ would use electro-shock therapy, hypnosis and radiation.

Even more disturbing, the CIA would often drug US citizens and conduct experiments on them without their knowledge or consent. These experiments in mind control caused at least one death that we know about.

The MK-Ultra project was swiftly shut down in the wake of the Watergate scandal, and CIA director Richard Helm ordered all files to be destroyed. The gruesome project might have never come to public light were if not for 20,000 documents that were discovered in a financial records building.

When the deeds to Camp Hero were handed over from the gov’t to the New York State Dept of Parks and Recreation in 1984, they stipulated that New York State would own everything on the surface of the base (what is today the public park), but the gov’t retained ‘ownership of everything below the surface’ – indication of a larger facility lying hidden beneath…

https://www.messynessychic.com/2021/10/08/buried-secrets-of-montauks-menacing-military-camp-that-inspired-stranger-things/

[bluefirewrites]

Prince Protection Program AU

The response to the last post has been amazing. Thanks guys. I don’t plan on making a full on story ( I did at one point, but I have a lot of WIPs to work on), but I still have some riffs to unleash. This is my take on the boys’ life  pre-PPP. Enjoy!

(Also changed the name of Reggie’s kingdom and swapped it for Luke’s btw) 

Link to first post and artwork

Palace life sucked ass.

Usually Lukas would experience that brief split-second of bliss waking up in the morning, where he would blink against the Mediterranean sun seeping through the cracks in his curtains, the feeling of his body cocooned in silk sheets hitting him first and not the fact that he was the Crowned Prince of Solaria.

But after that, it all came crashing down on him in the form of knocking on his door, followed by the more forceful opening of his door, and the filing in of his guardian.

“Ugh,” the prince rolled around, stuffing his head under a pillow, “Five… minutes…”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” James stalked over, tugging the covers off of him, causing Lukas to groan at the loss of warmth, “You know what today is.”

How could he not? It had only been the very thing his parents would talk about for the past year-

The day he would be crowned king.

As was tradition, he was seventeen years of age, the time for him to learn how to be a proper ruler to succeed his father King Mitchell.

Though the problem lay in the very fact that Lukas was many things.

But proper he was not.

Lukas rose, reluctantly, which struck James quite odd. Normally there would be more complaints, a bout or two before he would summon the guards to extricate him from the bed.

“I’ll-” A yawn broke out and the young man rubbed his eyes to rouse himself, “I’ll be there soon.”

James raised an eyebrow.

Lukas lifted a palm in good faith, “I promise.”

The older man stared at him for a moment before leaving to attend to other duties. As soon as he left, the prince quietly tip-toed to the doors, pressing his ear against the cool wood and waited. The sounds of footsteps faded, marking his guardian’s disappearance around the corner.

“Sucker,” Lukas laughed, before shrugging on a shirt, swiping his headphones off his desk, and booking it to his balcony.

He had about a minute and half to scale down the vines encasing his wing of the palace before the guards caught him. 

Over the years, he had to get a bit creative to evade palace security, with his parents sealing off most exits, doubling the guards stationed by his window at night, but nowadays it was much easier to do the riskier, more obvious way to escape. 

No one would expect it.

Hopping down to the lower level and pressing himself against the wall, he crab-walked until he found the door leading into the kitchen.

He slipped through, greeting the staff who all shook their heads at him. They knew better than to dissuade him from doing what he was about to do.  All Geneveive, the head cook, could do was send him off with a bag of food with a “Hurry back now or James will have our heads.”

Biting off a piece of bread, he thanked her with a wink and was off, dancing around the extra busy kitchen and putting on his headphones in the process.

With Nirvana blaring in his ears, Lukas made it to the waterfront and hopped into one of the more modest fishing boats (exchanging one of Genevieve’s sponge cakes for the keys. Thank you, Garrison) and motored off to the islet a few miles out.

20 minutes later, he moored to the dingy port where two other boats were stationed on the small piece of land.

“Oh my god,” he heard someone holler, a guy about his age with jet-black hair and swim trunks, “Is that the future King of Solaria?”

Lukas rolled his eyes, lugging around the small back, “Oh my god. Is that Reginald? The future King of the Crescent Cape?” he mimicked.

Another boy, blonde and tall, lay under the shade of a tree reading, scoffed, “Unfortunately.”

Reginald and Lukas locked eyes and smirked.

“Wait,” Reginald squinted at the blonde, “Is that- No way! It is, Lukas!”

“It so is!” Lukas gasped excitedly, “You’re Prince Alexander!”

“Of the Grybrian Isles? OMG!”

“Thought he’d be taller,”

“Thought he’d be more handsome,”

Alexander got to his feet, rolling his eyes, “Alright. Can you two be any more louder? Do you want them to find us?”

“Chill, they haven’t caught us yet,” Reginald reassured, leading the two other princes deeper into the patch of greenery on the tiny island, one that they all had discovered and have been running to to get away from prince duties for years now.

Lukas would have been driven to madness by royal duties if it weren’t for his friends from the neighboring kingdoms. He, Reginald, and Alexander had known each other their whole lives, their domains all clustered together that made visiting each other so easy. 

But every now and then, they needed to get away from the watchful eye of their parents and guards and the citizens and just be… them.

Lukas was lucky to know that he wasn’t alone in feeling this way, and that he could always turn to his friends.

“You goons better be hungry,” Lukas announced, tossing the bag of food their way.

Reggie dug into the snacks ravenously, “When aren’t we?”

Meanwhile, Alex was pacing, set on a nervous bender, “Aren’t you guys… I don’t know… kinda nervous?”

“Hey,” Lukas flicked a crumb at the other prince, hitting his calf mid-stride, “Thought we weren’t gonna talk about it today.”

“We’re all gonna be king soon, how can we not talk about it?”

The three of them sighed.

Alexander continued on the runway, “I mean, do you feel ready? I’m not ready,”

“Nope,” Reginald popped the ‘p’, frowning, “I hate being the oldest.”

“Why do we have to rule a country at 17? That’s stupid,” Lukas complained, searching through the bushes

“‘It’s tradition, Alexander. It’s what you must do. For the good of Grybria’,” Alexander impersonated, “Ugh. My brother just had to abdicate. Can’t I do that? Can I just abdicate?”

“Your dad would never let you,”

“Maybe if I told him I’m gay, he’d disown me?”

“Alexander,” Lukas warned.

“I was joking!” the blonde muttered, “...mostly.”

“Well what about me?” Reginald started, “I couldn’t take care of a bunny. How can I run a country?!”

Lukas felt around the ground until he hit leather and lugged out a guitar case he had stashed for safe keeping.

“Boys, let’s just… drop it today,” he deescalated. Funny, since he was up for coronation first, his rehearsal ceremony in a few hours, but he was determined to squeeze in some quality time with his friends before he couldn’t anymore, “Can we just chill? For a little while?” While they still could...

The other princes nodded.

“Okay. Now…” he took out his guitar and slung the strap over his shoulder, “Wanna jam?”

That brought a smile onto all of their faces.

They gathered in a circle, Lukas signaling at Alexander, who immediately began clapping a beat:

“1, 2, 3, 4-”

Tagging: @blush-and-books @lydias--stiles @echocharm17618 @rainfallingfromthesky @pink-flame @ourstarscollided @caffeine-catastrophe @nottheleastbrave @brightattheorpheum @thedeathdeelers @tmp-jatp   @lenacarstairspotterstewart @harpersdagger @annabelle-grisha-goddess @shelvesofgold @lwhoscribbles @futurearchaeologyprof @iridescentkippen @heademptynothoughts @crummycassidy @smolfangirl @a-dream-so-alive @that-one-utensil @lucid-h @homeinabookshelf @beaniesflannelandfannypacks @ilovefandoms @it-tastes-like-lizard

[buttherainbowhasabeard]

Promising Young Woman (2021)

*contains spoilers*

Revenge is a dish best served stone-cold sober…

Delightful and dimpled British star Carey Mulligan has had a successful career to date, playing alongside leading men such as Leonardo DiCaprio (‘The Great Gatsby’), Ryan Gosling (‘Drive’) and Michael Fassbender (‘Shame’). Despite not always being centre stage, many of Mulligan’s film choices have been eclectic in terms of genre, and it seems this winning combination of offbeat and orthodox have all led to her explosive lead role in the indie assault on the senses that is ‘Promising Young Woman’.

Carey is Cassandra Thomas, a 30-year-old whose promising career as a doctor went into a tailspin when she dropped out of medical school following the rape of her best friend Nina Fisher at the rough hands of their classmates. It’s implied that Nina – overwhelmed by what happened to her and the lack of support or investigative interference – committed suicide, and in the years since, Cassie has dedicated her life to avenging her friend’s death. Rather than continuing to try to take the claims up with police, Cassie turns unconventional vigilante and offers herself up as hot-mess boy bait, spending her nights fake falling-down drunk in bars and clubs to see and document how many men attempt to take advantage of her. Going so far – arguably stupidly so – as to let them take her home, Cassie abruptly reveals her sobriety to shock them into acknowledging and lamenting their predatory behaviour.

These scenes in particular are deliciously satisfying – that moment the self-proclaimed “nice guy” realises his unwilling date is more than aware of her surroundings and is going to confront him about them. The genius of these moments is in the power of Mulligan’s swift and drastic transformations. She doesn’t need to threaten or produce a weapon to take control, her stark sobriety is enough.

Making her feature filmmaking debut, director Emerald Fennell has had her fair share of femme fatale experience as head writer on Season 2 of TV’s addictive ‘Killing Eve’. Her love of strong, clever but chaotic women are all bundled into one with the creation of Cassie. She’s a Villanelle-esque sexy sociopath with a skewed moral compass, complimented by a noughties heavy soundtrack featuring a screechy orchestral remix of Britney Spears’ ‘Toxic’, a rom-com inspired routine to Paris Hilton’s ‘Stars Are Blind’, and DeathbyRomy’s cover of the Weather Girls’ ‘It’s Raining Men’.

‘Promising Young Woman’ could just as easily be called Privileged Young Men. With a narrative that draws on #MeToo, toxic masculinity and on campus rape culture and rituals, this is a film that is unapologetic about its subject matter and in your face about its opinions on it. There are not-so-subtle traces of trends that are played out in real life today, like dismissing women’s allegations to protect men’s reputations. Whilst Nina’s life was destroyed and her credibility doubted, male peers like perpetrator Al Monroe (Chris Lowell) and his sleazy friend Joe (Max Greenfield) were given glowing references, advanced to the top of their fields and became popular pillars of their communities, industries and social circles.

Although predictable for me, the eventual reveal of the one good man from Cassie’s past being complicit in Nina’s rape (her happy-to-take-it-slow boyfriend Ryan played by a charmingly goofy Bo Burnham), is a gasp out loud moment. Her world is once again shattered beyond repair when she realises the relationship that has made her happy for the first time in a long time was built on a lie (or to give him the benefit of the doubt, a very bad mistake). He is the first man she felt she could trust, be herself around, and fall in love with, but she discovers that underneath he was at worst, another one of the guys, and at best, an indefensible bystander.

You’d be forgiven for thinking ‘Promising Young Woman’ is all anti-men. Everything about it - on the surface and in the trailer - screams angry, bra burning feminist. However, it’s more nuanced than that and takes more of an anti-bad men, anti-bad women and anti-bad behaviour stance, as many of the movie’s female characters also have to confront the fact that their refusal or disinterest to speak up and call out abuse has enabled criminal conduct to set in, rot and spread. Cassie - an anti-hero herself - holds a grubby mirror up to the faces of the women from her college days with varying degrees of cunning and callousness, from feigning the abduction and pimping out of the University Dean Elizabeth Walker’s daughter, to tricking an inebriated former classmate (Alison Brie) into thinking she was unfaithful, or worse, sexually assaulted, in a hotel room.

Cassie’s methods are extreme and quite frankly mad, but her motives are steeped in an obsessive desire to do right by her friend and seek justice whatever the cost (the latter playing out in tragic but successful fashion in the finale). She is an intentionally entangled fly, luring spiders of all shapes and sizes to the centre of the web, daring them to do their worst. Most times she is well prepared, and even when it seems like she’s bitten off more than she can chew, another dose of vigorous vengeance is plunged in (even if it has to be done posthumously!)

Physically too, she’s a calculating chameleon. From pigtails, flowery blouses and flats for a girl-next-door look, to blow-job blotted lips, tight dresses and skyscraper stilettos to give off a late-night pick-up vibe, every element of her outfit is deliberate and devious. Dressed up in a wig the colour of a Rainbow Paddle Pop and sexy stripper nurse outfit in the film’s final act, Cassie is the literal sexual objectification of the promising young medical practitioner she could have been. Instead, she’s a practitioner of pain, turning Monroe’s bachelor party into her plastered patients.

Handcuffing Al to the bed upstairs, it looks like she’s reeled in her biggest fish to date. “It's every man's worst nightmare, getting accused of something like that,” Al cries, to which a deadpan Cassie replies “can guess what every woman's worst nightmare is?” But soon the tables turn when he breaks free, overpowers her and smothers her to death with a pillow. It’s a brutal and distressingly drawn-out scene, and it takes a while before it hits you that she really is dead and this is where her sad story ends. Joe and Al burn her body. It’s all over. Or so you think.

We cut to Al’s wedding, and as Juice Newton’s ‘Angel of the Morning’ plays, Ryan begins to receive scheduled texts from Cassie, taunting him from beyond the grave with a juicy contingency plan. Using Al’s ex-attorney Jordan Green (Alfred Molina) and his regret and grief over representing the wrong party to her advantage, Cassie had sent him incriminating evidence about Nina’s assault and her own demise in advance. “You didn't think this was the end, did you? It is now” the first texts read, as police sirens wail and officers emerge from the woods to arrest Al for murder. “Enjoy the wedding! Love, Cassie & Nina” the final messages say, followed by a perfectly placed winky face emoticon as Fletcher’s ‘Last Laugh’ cues the end credits. It’s a gratifying water cooler moment, bona fide badass yet bittersweet, but you’re still left wondering if it was all worth it.

‘Promising Young Woman’ could be cut from the same tortured heroine cloth as ‘The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo’, ‘Kill Bill’ and ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’, with Nina and Cassie’s friendship rivalling ‘Thelma & Louise’. It covers a lot of taboo territories and topics, from slut shaming to consent and coercion, and evokes the harrowing Margaret Atwood quote “Men are afraid women will laugh at them. Women are afraid men will kill them”.

‘Promising Young Woman’ is not for the faint hearted, and anyone who fears the film may be triggering should stay well clear. It’s not always easy viewing and it’s not always fair, however it’s more than just a pitch-black comedy or clear-cut tale of rape-revenge. It’s a brave, bold and original satire with bite and brains.

4/5 stars.

[strawberrylemonz]

Strictly Business

Part 3

Part 4 [CURRENT]

Part 5

DT: @lynnarts @snapdragonfirefly @artistconk

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Techno was busy today. Tommy couldn’t help but notice that the king was becoming more and more busier as the days turned to years. He couldn’t really complain, he was busy too. He was a big man, after all! Big men have big men things to do! Besides, Tommy was eight now! He had big man classes to take! He had to be the cool one and attend to his princely matters. Life was great, but it was also boring as days went by. Don’t get him wrong, he enjoyed his time in the castle. The only downside was his repetitive schedule whilst he grows older. Going into his daily lessons was starting to become boring and lonely, no matter how many instructors and guards were around him. As much as he cared for and appreciated everyone, he desperately wanted friends. More importantly, he wanted friends his age.

“Prince Theseus, you did wonderfully! That concludes today’s lesson! Be sure to go over all of the study material for testing. Have a nice afternoon.”

His instructor didn’t even wait for him to answer, packing up and leaving the room. The young prince sighed, boredom already filling him. Peeking out the room, he took note that his usual guards weren’t there. Slowly creeping out, he peered over the corner to see them conversing with each other. Peeking over to the nearest clock, he realized that his instructor had dismissed him early. Smiling to himself, he quietly slipped away. Once he was sure that he wasn’t being watched, he slipped behind a pillar. Crawling into a small hole behind it, he stood up into the secret tunnels. He had discovered the tunnels after his seventh birthday. He spent so long in them, cleaning and decorating them, that he had the entire layout of the castle memorized. It was the answer to how he managed to never miss a class so far, which impressed everyone. It was his little secret, one that he loved. Making his way down the tunnels, he swapped his princely coat for a brown cloak he left in the tunnels to work as a backup disguise. He had successfully changed into his casual shoes as he finally came across a wall. Moving a bit of stone out of the way, he peered into the cellar of the castle. After confirming that it was empty, he crawled out and returned the stone. Scrambling to the cellar doors that led outside, he carefully opened them. He suppressed a giggle as he made it outside, unseen.

“Are the carts ready to go?”

He heard people approaching, their voices growing in volume as they walked closer to his direction. Looking around, he hummed as he climbed into a cart of hay. Squeezing himself into the hay as a hiding spot, he suppressed his laughter as he felt the cart move. After a few minutes, he peeked out to see that he was out of the castle walls and in the city. Wonderful. He waited until the cart stopped at the edge of the city before getting out. Smiling to himself, he happily set off to search for adventure in the unexplored parts of the city.

--------

The water looked beautiful. Tommy happily watched the fish swim about the docs, a bundle of flowers in his hand as he studied their colors and forms. He was content with just sitting there, listening as the citizens went about their day. His smile faltered, however, when he heard yelps. Peering to the right of him, he saw some older boys follow two boys into the woods. The two boys, who appeared to be around Tommy’s age, seemed nervous. Puffing his cheeks in anger and annoyance, Tommy stood to his feet and stomped over to the group. He watched as the older preteens pushed the two boys to the ground, laughing as they teased the two. Tommy had enough of it. Putting the flowers in his knapsack, he stormed up the older boys, anger fueling him. These pricks didn’t have the right to be such jerks!

“Hey! Leave them alone!”

The older boys turned to face Tommy, who stood behind them in a confident stance. He crossed his arms in annoyance as the older boys barked out in laughter. They couldn’t see the anger that was filling the boy’s eyes, eyes hidden beneath the hood of his cloak.

“Aw, da wittle baby came to save his fwiends?”

“What are you gonna do, brat? Cry?”

Tommy was fuming! He wasn’t a baby! He was a big man! As prince, it was his job to take care of the people of the kingdom! Picking up a large stick, Tommy pointed it at the boys with confidence.

“I’ll fight you!”

And he did. Despite his size, he was able to do pretty good damage to his foes. Despite the lack of experience due to Techno just now putting him in lessons, he held his own for a good amount of time. But a stick in the hands of a child could only do so much. As he swung at the knees of another boy, he was intercepted. His stick was snatched away, causing him to momentarily lose his balance. He couldn’t help the yelp that escaped his lips as he was snatched up by the collar of his cloak.

“Aw, is the baby scared now that he’s been stopped? You really shouldn’t have done that, brat. Now, we’re gonna make you regret it.”

Tommy gave no shits. Screaming a string of curse words he picked up from the guards who were off duty, Tommy reeled back his foot. Using all his strength, he kicked the boy in the crotch with all his might. The boy cursed, doubling over in pain. Tommy used this chance to try and run to the terrified boys he was helping, but he was stopped. A friend of crotch boy pulled him into the air.

“You little shit! You’re gonna pay for that!”

The next thing Tommy knew, he was pummeling towards a sharp rock. That was the moment that Tommy realized he had been thrown to the ground. Remembering the safety lessons he was taught, he covered his head as he hit the ground, the sharp rock cutting his cheek. Anger and hurt filled him as tears filled his eyes, head swimming with many thoughts as laughter filled the air. Wiping away his tears, Tommy returned to his feet, turning to face the older boys. The laughter instantly stopped. Tommy was confused by their widened eyes, fear filling their gazes. He reached up to wipe the blood that was trailing from his cut, only to realize why they were acting weird. His hood was off.

“The prince!”

“Shit! Run, quick!”

“Fuck, the king is gonna be pissed off! Scurry!”

Fucking cowards. Huffing, Tommy frowned at his dirtied clothes, along with his bruises and scrapes. Pa was not going to like this.

“You were so cool!”

“Yeah! Thank you!”

Tommy turned to see the two boys happily yapping about how cool Tommy had looked when he stood up and fought against the older boys. He blinked a few times, a small smile finding its way to his face.

“Cool?”

“Yeah! Very cool!”

“Cool! Cool!”

“I guess it kind of was. They were cowards, though.”

“You’re bleeding! Oh no!”

The two boys began to panic as they began to realize how injured the boy really was. Much to their relief, the cut on his cheek was the only injury to break skin.

“I’m Luke, this is Bitzel. Thank you for saving us!”

“Er, I’m Tommy. It’s no problem, big man.”

“C’mon, we know someone that can help with the bleeding so it doesn’t get infected!”

Tommy hesitated for a moment, but only a moment. Nodding to the two boys, he followed them to a small cottage on the edge of the city. He snorted in amusement as the two barged in, uninvited. Following them in, he took off his shoes and placed them besides the shoes of the boys. Taking off his cloak, he let Bitzel hang it up as Luke called out into the house.

“Deo! Your bestest buddies are here! We have someone who needs help! His name is Tommy!”

Tommy tilted his head in confusion as Deo entered the room. He had expected an adult or guardian of some sort, not an eleven year old boy. Deo took one look at Tommy, only to sigh as he faced the other two boys.

“Luke, Bit, why is Prince Theseus here?”

“He saved us!”

“Pf, your real name is Theseus?”

“That’s one of my middle names, my real name is Thomas. That doesn’t matter, I told you guys to call me Tommy!”

Before anyone knew it, Tommy got into a playful banter with the other two children his age. Just as he was about to start cursing, a hand stopped him. Peering over his shoulder, he watched as Deo flashed him a genuine smile.

“Alright Tommy, let’s get you cleaned up. Want something to eat while you're at it?”

“Uh, sure. Thanks, big man.”

Deo just snorted as he ruffled the younger boy's hair, motioning the three kiddos to follow him. Tommy felt warmth squeeze his heart as he slowly touched his hair, feeling the spot where Deo’s hand once was. Giving himself a smile, Tommy laughed as he followed the three into the dining room. He may have just found what he was looking for.

[2manyfandoms2count]

Poisson d'avril

Here, have a half-baked April Fool’s Day fic my brain decided to wake me up for. For context, one of the most popular jokes for April 1st in France is taping paper fish to each other’s backs, the more original the fish the better (my childhood is filled with trying to sneak behind teachers' backs to tape one on them; they were very chill about it, tbh). Poisson d’Avril is also what you say at the end of a joke on that day (think "sike", but festive). More about this great tradition that apparently dates back to at least 1466 here.

Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

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Marinette loved April Fool’s Day at Françoise Dupont. The school was always buzzing with little pranks at that time of the year, the blooming spring giving a wonderfully cheerful backdrop to the shenanigans the collégiens were up to.

These were all very light-hearted, if sometimes a little elaborate.

As usual, some students had been found early in the morning in the classrooms, thwarting their attempt to recreate the legendary horizontal fiasco of 20XX, where everything had been set up to look like the rooms had been flipped by 90°. Mr Damoclès had let them go mercifully, thankful that the students hadn’t been tempted to glue everything to the ceiling in an effort to one-up their predecessors. Somehow, he wouldn’t have put it past Kim and Alix to try and coordinate the project, as a last hurrah before heading on to lycée.

There were also seemingly well-meaning classmates offering chouquettes or donuts in the courtyard, which Marinette knew to stay well away from, knowing the former were likely sprinkled with coarse salt, and the latter filled with the likes of mayonnaise instead of jam. She’d been in their shoes a couple of years prior, building her classmates’ trust by bringing them the sweet delicacies every day for a week, and switching on April 1st as a joke.

Heading to class, she heard a lot of laughter, people telling jokes, or trying to see how far they could take a story without it being called out on it (this year, Nino had Kim panicking over a brevet exam part they supposedly had, which was a step down from the previous year, where he’d convinced him that everybody needed to come in dressed up in medieval costumes, and that he’d landed the court jester role; his friend had turned up the next day in a full outfit, complete with bells on his hat and shoes, and upon discovering the deception, had decided to make good use of them and make the joke everybody’s problem).

However much she enjoyed those kinds of pranks, though, Marinette’s favourite remained the classic poisson d’avril: taping paper fish to people’s backs. It was something anyone could take part in, as a predator or a prey, with or without premeditation. You didn’t necessarily need scissors and tape, if you managed to steal some from somebody else’s back.

Marinette liked to take it seriously. Done right, the exercise demanded stealth she’d had even as a little kid, and had honed ever since being chosen to become Ladybug, as well as creativity she had piles of. She’d stayed up the previous night, making plenty of fish varying in size and colour, some tailored to her friends, like the Rena Rouge and Carapace ones that were intended for Alya and Nino respectively. She’d of course also made the rest of the Miraculous team, as well as some other designs based on Kitty section, her classmates, or celebrities.

As always at the end of the day, Rose walked around with a whole school on her back. It wasn’t clear if she was completely oblivious to it, or if she knew what was going on but enjoyed the giddy giggles of the people who managed to add an extra fish in, or take one off.

The only person who’d managed to escape the prank so far was Adrien, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. Kim, Alix and Nino had gone to great lengths to get at least one fish on his back, even recruiting Markov to sneak behind him, but the boy seemed to have a sixth sense.

No sooner did he hear the faintest of ruffles, that his head would jerk up, eyes darting around to figure out where the sound had come from, thwarting any efforts, no matter how elaborate they’d been.

Marinette had been reluctant to target Adrien, despite having a special fish for him, complete with his stripes and an orange-tipped tail, but as the day went by and more people joined the challenge to trick him, she felt the urge to compete rise in her chest and started unwillingly tracking his every movement, trying to find a breach in his focus.

It was a fastidious process, even for someone who enjoyed watching Adrien happily live his life, but it paid off around the end of the day, just after the last bell.

Marinette noticed that Adrien’s shirt looked a little rumpled around the back as they were retrieving books from their lockers, and approached him calmly.

“Adrien?” She announced her presence when she was right behind him, surprised that he hadn’t turned around yet. He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of her voice.

“Marinette!” He yelped, a hand flying to his heart. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you approach.” He chuckled nervously.

“No, I’m sorry I scared you!” Marinette looked down, apparently sheepish. In truth, she was cursing inwardly at the missed easy opportunity. Adrien had been at ease with her coming closer, which she assumed was because it was the end of the day and he’d started letting his guard down; she could have gone about her business and he would’ve been none the wiser. She shook her head; it didn’t matter, she’d just go on with her original plan. “It’s just that… well, it’s stupid, but the back of your shirt is a little creased, and I know how important your appearance is to your family so… Do you mind if I fix it?”

“Thanks Marinette, that’d be awesome.” He smiled at her in a way that would have made her lose her cool, had it been any other day. But she was on a mission, and there was no way she was letting the opportunity of pranking Adrien when nobody else had managed the feat go by.

“Okay, let me just…” Marinette reached into her purse and took the first piece of paper she felt, before gently taping it to Adrien’s shirt, making sure to smooth the fabric at the same time so he wouldn’t realise what she was doing.

“There, all done!” She smiled when she was satisfied the tape had adhered well enough.

He smiled back at her, but was interrupted in his thanks by Nino and Alya calling for them to hurry up.

“Today was really fun, I’m so glad I got to experience it first hand,” Adrien beamed as the group walked out of the building, Nino and Adrien a little ahead of the girls. “And I’m really proud that I survived it without getting pranked!”

Marinette bit back a laugh, eyes darting to his back.

“I wouldn’t be so confident, Sunshine,” Alya replied, untaping the fish from his back and handing it to him.

“What…” Adrien stopped in his tracks, looking at it, and particularly Marinette’s signature on the back of the piece of paper, in disbelief. He turned around with a look of mock betrayal. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me!” He pouted.

“I couldn’t just let you off the hook,” she shrugged with a small smile, making a mental note to reuse the phrase with Chat Noir when she saw him later. He’d enjoy the pun.

Adrien let out a small chuckle as he turned the fish around, but the sound died as he saw the pattern. The colour drained from his face and he froze as he took in the black and green colour scheme and the fish’s whiskers.

“Adrien? Is everything okay?” Marinette frowned, noticing his change in body language.

“Yeah, um… Can I talk to you for a second?” He looked up at her.

“What a great idea!” Alya pushed Marinette towards Adrien before hooking her arm through Nino’s and starting to go down the stairs. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

Marinette thought she heard her add “Can you believe they might get together over an April Fool’s joke?”, as she waved them off absentmindedly, but her gaze met Adrien’s troubled one and she decided she’d deal with her best friend later.

“What’s up?” She asked, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks; the adrenaline from succeeding her challenge was evidently starting to wear off.

“What’s this?” Adrien asked cautiously, handing her the fish.

Marinette took it cautiously, saw the pattern, and smiled. “It’s a poisson-chat noir,” she said proudly. It was a bit of a shame she’d picked that one for Adrien, but she guessed she couldn’t have kept it for her partner anyway, given that she’d signed it. Still, she thought he would have liked the joke. Especially if it came from Ladybug.

“How did you know?” he murmured, looking at her incredulously. She tilted her head, raising her eyebrows at his cryptidness. He explicited his thoughts. “I saw the fish you gave Alya and Nino, and the one you managed to pin on Chloé; they were all references to their superhero selves. And now you get this one right as well… How did you know?”

It was Marinette’s turn to freeze and feel the colour draining from her cheeks. “I… I didn’t. I picked one randomly when I saw an opening.”

“Oh.” She saw the cogs turning in Adrien’s brain while she felt her own shut down, still processing one important piece of information.

“Adrien… Are you Chat Noir?”

“Um… Poisson d’avril?” He ventured.

“Adrien.” She repeated sternly.

“Okay, fine, you got me.” Adrien huffed, raking a hand through his hair. “Please, don’t tell Ladybug.” He pleaded.

“Too late, I’m afraid.” She dug out her poisson-Ladybug and taped it to herself. She saw Adrien’s eyes grow as wide as his smile before being engulfed in a hug and feeling his lips on her forehead. “Kwami, we really might get together over an April Fool’s joke,” she muttered against his chest. If the heat she felt at the tip of her ears said anything, she probably was as red as Ladybug’s costume, and it probably wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“What was that?” Adrien pulled out a little from their hug to look at her.

“Nothing.” She smiled, and took his hand. “Now come on Chaton, we have some things to discuss, and we should probably go somewhere more private.”

“You know I’d follow you anywhere, my Lady.” He picked their entwined hands and kissed hers.

Really, she thought as they made their way towards her parents’ boulangerie, she loved poissons d’avril.