#tl x lit

[waywardted]

    Where I'm from,          Kansas,            my home,

#ted lasso #tedlassoedit #tedlassosource #ted lasso spoilers #words by Christina Marie Brown #tl x lit #teddy boy #m*ne #mine: lasso #a wayward ted indeed

[thepeakygurl]

Hiiiii, can I please req a fluff fic where tommy’s s/o is pinching his cheeks in a very cute manner skskskka( I read that idea in my tl and I can’t stop thinking abt it lmao) The context behind it is up to you:))It’s okay if you won’t do it but can I just say your fics are FUCKING AMAZING!!!!! Reading your works really made me feel 🥰🥰 I hope you are safe and well<33

Intoxicated Love

This come a year and a half later, but here it is! I really hope you enjoy it despite being very short and concise🥺

Ps: Safe to say my love for Tommy Shelby has never left my heart, soul and brain

Requested Scenario by anon

Thomas Shelby x you/reader

Prompt: Y/N comes home drunk and start to playfully pinch Tommy’s cheeks

Fluff

Tommy never truly thought of home as four walls and a roof over your head, his home was where his family belonged, and most recently wherever you were.

He sat down on the couch after giving his jacket to the governess, he lit up a cigarette and let it burn slowly within his lips. He let a small breath out of his mouth, while he looked his blue eyes at the ceiling wondering where you might be, usually the governess would be home already and it would be you welcoming him at the door.

And just as the thought of leaving the house and come looking for you invaded his mind, he heard the governess welcoming you back home, as well as your harmonious laugh, sounding now a little higher than usual. Tommy faced now the door waiting for you arrival “You’re home sweetheart!” you squealed at him, quickly taking your gloves off and almost falling on the ground in the process.

“Sweetheart?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow at you and how clumsily drunk you were, he turn off his cigarette reaching then towards you, grabbed your arm and made you sit on his lap “How much did you drink, mh?” he asked in a whisper while stroking your head and running his fingers through your hair.

You lost your self in his gaze for a split of a second, you imperceptibly shook your head and said “John challenged him, it isn’t about how much I drank, it is about proving a point!”

Despite not making much of a sense in that moment, Tommy smiled and nodded at you “Why were you with John?” was his only question now.

“Are you jealous Mr Shelby?” you asked showing him one of your best smile and he caved him, reciprocating it.

He was not jealous, well he was, but not of John. Though that cheeky smile you were giving him made him flustered and he was not about to turn your confident self down “So what if I am love?” he whispered getting slightly closer at your, shamingly looking at those lips of yours.

You felt your heart dropping straight to your stomach and intoxicated as you were you couldn’t help but let out a giggle, reaching to his cheeks and started to jokingly pinching them, soft and rosy “You are so sweet!” 

Tommy closed his eyes, certainly this was not where he saw the situation moving forward to, but he slowly reached to your hands and moved them away from his cheeks, kissing both of them “I think it’s time for you to go to sleep love”

“Will you sleep with me?” you bluntly asked.

“Where else would I sleep Y/N?”

“Can I play with your cheeks?”

At that request, Tommy looked annoyed, but quickly looked away and said “Only if I can play with yours”

#peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders fluff #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby scenario #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby scenario #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby

[bingoboingobongo]

wrong

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley (Call of Duty) x Reader

Type: Angst

Summary: Simon’s finally home, so you should be happy right? Wrong.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: anxiety, stress, tbh probably signs of depression too, pasta consuption (sorry ppl who r gluten free), explicit language

A/N: bruh. um. barely beta-read we die like men. yes i said i would be back by january yes i lied. definitely 100% not inspired by real life. tl;dr i hate mock trial, all the guys at my school are boring or annoying, and i’m on the verge. enjoy :)

It felt wrong to say, like really wrong, like going against every single thing you knew to be right and good with the world wrong, but Simon was really hurting you right now. Part of the reason why it felt so wrong to say was because it wasn’t even Simon’s fault. It wasn’t anything that he was or wasn’t doing that was hurting you, and there wasn’t anything he could or couldn’t do to make you feel better.

You felt terrible, even though you should’ve been feeling amazing, even though you should’ve been feeling ecstatic that after so long of being away on duty, he was finally back home, back in your bed, back in your arms. You felt guilty. You felt guilty because he was here and you should be happy and you should have been cherishing him and spending as much time as you could with him, and for some reason you couldn’t. 

There was something hanging over your head, some insufferable, suffocating, terrifying cloud of stress and anxiety following you around that made you want to burst into tears at any second, and you didn’t even know why. You just felt bad. And Simon didn’t deserve that, not after everything he had been through, all the horrors he had seen. He deserved someone happy, someone who could cheer him up and smile with him, not someone who couldn’t even figure out what was making them feel like this.

It was horrible, how every time you saw him sleeping or washing the dishes or reading a book, your stomach twisted and the lump in your throat grew, how even just the sight of him made you feel so guilty for feeling bad around him, which of course just only made you feel worse, and therefore more guilty.

It was exhausting, and you wanted nothing more than to break down and cry and let it all out, but you couldn’t. Simon didn’t deserve to have to deal with that, he didn’t deserve to have to help you figure out what was making you feel like this when you didn’t even know how to tackle it on your own.

And even though you hated to admit it, you were secretly counting down the days until he left for duty again. Until you had another chance to put yourself back together and finally greet him with a sincere smile and a warm hug like you should’ve been able to do when he first came back. You just needed a chance to sort yourself out, a second chance.

Which is why when he said he had important news to tell you tonight, a tiny part of you lit up with excitement, shamefully praying that maybe, just maybe, he had to go back to whatever classified base he had spent the last five months at. And it made you sick that you were thinking that, that you wanted him gone so badly, but you couldn’t help it. It was so exhausting to smile at him and nod along to his conversations and act like you didn’t want to just drop off the face of the earth.

And now here he was, wearing a way-too-small ‘kiss the cook’ apron you had gotten him as a gag gift, standing in front of the stove while something that smelled way to good to be shitty Chinese takeout — your normal meal for when he told you he had to leave again — and you couldn’t help the way your stomach dropped when he turned around with one of the biggest smiles you had ever seen him wear on his face.

If he noticed the faint terror on your face, he didn’t mention it, instead taking your bag off of you and ushering you to the dining table, where he placed a delicious smelling plate of pasta in front of you and urged you to try it. Putting on a smile, you reached for your fork, but time seemed to slow down as you tried to take a bite out of the pasta. You felt like some invisible force was squeezing down on you, slowing your movements as it pressured you to put on a happy face for Simon. When you finally took a bite, you didn’t taste anything. You knew it wasn’t the food itself; it smelled delicious and it looked like it’d taste like heaven, but the dread bubbling in your stomach was all-consuming.

But Simon needed this, and you knew he needed this, so you closed your eyes and tossed your head back like it was the most delicious thing you had ever had. You groaned, “This… this is delicious, Simon. How did you make it?”

You tried to be happy at how relieved he looked at what you said, but instead it just made you feel more guilty. You watched as his hand reached for the back of his neck, something he always did whenever you complimented him, and his lips moved around in some slurry of words. You couldn’t hear anything, or at least your brain wasn’t processing it. You were too focused on making it seem like you were absorbing every single thing he said, like everything was fine.

At a certain point he sat down across from you, and you watched him fold a napkin neatly over his lap as he got ready to eat.

“What was that news you wanted to tell me about?” You asked, surprising yourself. 

“Oh right,” Simon said, before quickly taking a bite of food. You tried to ignore the way your stomach dropped as his next sentence — although garbled and unclear due to the food he was eating — left his mouth. You had just heard him wrong, right? Yes, that had to be it. It was just your ears playing tricks on you, nothing more. Right?

“Um,” you said, swallowing, “what did you say?” You tried to put on a good face when you said that, a face that said ‘I’m so happy’ and not ‘I think this may send me over the edge,’ but by the way Simon’s chewing stopped abruptly you could tell you failed.

You watched as he swallowed slowly, setting down his fork and wiping his mouth neatly before continuing. “I said… I said I won’t have to leave for another four months.”

There was no hiding it now. As soon as the words left his mouth you felt a wave of emotion crash over you, and before you knew it you were crying. You felt embarrassed. Although it was blurred by tears, you could see Simon’s face just a few feet away from you. He was sitting quietly still, a complete opposite to your shaking, sobbing, body.

You could hear him call out your name, which just made you cry even harder. You didn’t know why you were doing this, you wanted so badly to stop, to just shut up, to not embarrass yourself any further, but you couldn’t. It was like you didn’t have control over your body anymore. You felt like your body was being tossed around by the cruel waves of emotion. You didn’t know how to do anything but cry. It was washing over you and you couldn’t do anything to stop it. You could feel the cold air burn your lungs as you tried to gasp for some sort of breath, but nothing helped.

For a moment, you thought you were better, but then you felt Simon’s hand on your back and you were drowning again. The way your cries grew louder and the sobs racked through your body harder when he wrapped his arms around you made you feel terrible, but you couldn’t do anything to stop it. So many emotions were battering your body: shame, exhaustion, dismay, embarrassment, love, fear.

At a certain point though, your cries began to quiet down. You became aware of Simon’s hand stroking the back of your head and the strong cocoon he had wrapped you in. Your heart rate began to slow down, and the only evidence that you had been crying was the still damp tracks down your cheeks and the erratic hiccups that jolted through your body.

You felt Simon’s chest rise like he was going to say something, and a spark of anxiety raced through your body again. You didn’t want to talk about this. You wanted to pretend this never happened. You wanted to grab your things and leave. You wanted to come back the next morning with two coffees — one black, just like he likes it, and one with way so much cream and sugar it’s almost inedible just because you know it pisses him off — and start talking about how he has to watch James Gunn’s Suicide Squad because it’s so much better than the one with Jared Leto. 

But instead of asking if you wanted to talk about it or if you were okay or some other anxiety-inducing conversation starter that would only lead to more tears and confusion, all he said was “Do you wanna go to sleep?”

And for a moment you didn’t say anything, but then you slowly nodded your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist as he picked you up. He didn’t say anything as he brought you to your bedroom or when he helped you change into your pajamas or when he pulled the covers over you and pulled you close to his chest. And yet, even though he was a man typically shrouded in mystery and confusion, you could tell by how tight he was holding you that he was telling you something, even if it wasn’t out loud.

He was telling you that it would be okay, that he knew you could get through this, and that even if it wasn’t he would be there with you. And it wouldn’t be suffocating anymore and you wouldn’t have to feel like you had to hide things from him, you could just be, and he would be there for you. And that was all you needed as you drifted off to sleep.

#bingoboingobongo.com #ghost #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost angst #ghost fluff #ghost one shot #ghost drabble #ghost imagine #simon riley #simon riley cod #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley angst #simon riley fluff #simon riley one shot #simon riley drabble #simon riley imagine #also no guarantees on regular posts #im like gonna RAHJHDJhdjdeHJEHDJ

[violetsandshrikes]

Since sharing this post about a usful AI used to compile and graph research papers, I've realised I have a few other resources I can share with people!

Note: I haven't had a chance to use every single one of these. A group of post-grad students has been slowly compiling an online list, and these are some I've picked out that are free (or should be free and also have paid versions). However, other students using them have all verified them as safe.

Inciteful (Using Citations to Explore Academic Literature | Inciteful.xyz) – similar to connectedpapers + researchrabbit. Also allows you to connect two papers and see how they are linked. Currently free.

Spinbot (Spinbot - Article Spinning, Text Rewriting, Content Creation Tool.) – article spinner + paraphraser. Useful for difficult articles/papers. Currently free (ad version).

Elicit (Elicit: The AI Research Assistant)  – AI research assistant, creates workflow. Mainly for lit reviews. Finds relevant papers, summarises + analyses them, finds criticism of them. Free (?)

Natural Reader (AI Voices - NaturalReader Home (naturalreaders.com)) – text to speech. Native speakers. Usually pretty reliable, grain of salt. Free + paid versions.

Otter AI (Otter.ai - Voice Meeting Notes & Real-time Transcription) – takes notes and transcribes video calls. Pretty accurate. Warn people Otter is entering call or it is terrifying. Free + paid versions.

Paper Panda (🐼 PaperPanda — Access millions of research papers in one click) – get research papers free. Chrome extension. Free.

Docsity (About us - Docsity Corporate) – get documents from university students globally. Useful for notes.

Desmos (Desmos | Let's learn together.) – online free graphing calculator. Free (?)

Core (CORE – Aggregating the world’s open access research papers) – open access research paper aggregation.

Writefull (Writefull X: AI applied to academic writing) – Academic AI. Paraphrasing, title generator, abstract generator, apparently ChatGPT detector now. Free.

Photopea (Photopea | Online Photo Editor) – Photoshop copy but run free and online. Same tools. Free.

Draw IO (Flowchart Maker & Online Diagram Software) – Flowchart/diagram maker. Free + paid versions.

Weava (Weava Highlighter - Free Research Tool for PDFs & Webpages (weavatools.com)) – Highlight + annotate webpages and pdfs. Free + paid versions.

Unsplash (Beautiful Free Images & Pictures | Unsplash) – free to use images.

Storyset (Storyset | Customize, animate and download illustration for free) – open source illustrations. Free.

Undraw (unDraw - Open source illustrations for any idea) – open source illustrations. Free.

8mb Video (8mb.video: online compressor FREE) – video compression (to under 8mb). Free.

Just Beam It (JustBeamIt - file transfer made easy) – basically airdrop files quickly and easily between devices. Free.

Jimpl (Online photo metadata and EXIF data viewer | Jimpl) – upload photos to see metadata. Can also remove metadata from images to obscure sensitive information. Free.

TL Draw (tldraw) – web drawing application. Free.

Have I Been Pwned (Have I Been Pwned: Check if your email has been compromised in a data breach) – lets you know if information has been taken in a data breach. If so, change passwords. Free.

If you guys have any feedback about these sites (good or bad), feel free to add on in reblogs or flick me a message and I can add! Same thing with any broken links or additions.

#free resources #academia #<- tag i was originally using for this stuff #useful websites #katie rambles

[moonblossom]

Where I've been for a week...

This gets graphic about physical injury below the cut, so please don't read if that's something you're not up for right now. TL;DR I fell down the stairs and massively fucked up both my legs.

So last Tuesday, I was working from home as I usually do. I went upstairs to have a coffee and some banana bread my dad made. While up there, I realised I'd forgotten to set my work phone to DND so I hurried up and ran down the stairs to my room where my office is.

Big mistake.

The stairs into my room are varnished wood, awkward heights, and not very well lit. I slipped and missed my footing, which has happened a million times before.

This is where things get unpleasant. Read on with caution.

Somehow, both the tibia and fibula in my right leg snapped in half with enough force to drive them both through the front of my shin.

I was in and out of consciousness, but I do remember being surrounded by what felt like 40 EMTs (was closer to ten according to my folks - three ambulances showed up), one of whom was utterly charmed by my lizard. He looked about twelve. Bless him for distracting me while one of his partners cut open my favourite lounge pants and shoved the bones back inside my leg. I was not wearing underwear at the time.

We get to the Montreal General Hospital in... mediocre time, due to a fuckton of construction and detours. Bienvenue a Montreal, fuck right off.

They put me straight into a trauma unit and pumped me full of fentanyl and antibiotics. I vaguely remember one of the EMTs referring to my pain level as a "fifteen out of ten". They checked my entire body to make sure nothing else was injured, both manual and ultrasound to make sure I still had my spleen and shit. Thankfully, all my innards are still functional. They cut the remaining shreds of my pants off but managed to get my tank top off without too much drama. Someone was kind enough to drape a hospital gown over my boobs and... possibly my crotch? I was in too much pain to give a crap at this point.

They manage to take a few x-rays while I curse them and their ancestors and the hospital and just... the entire fucking world, and then fill me up with some delightful cocktail of propofol and ketamine. I remember very little after this point, but apparently they yanked my leg into place, noticing my right left ankle was severely sprained in the process. So that was fun. Apparently I cursed a bunch more, and made a bunch of jokes that were likely inappropriate but broke the tension I guess?

I "woke up" from the cocktail feeling like I was underwater, and then convinced I was inside Disney Dreamlight Valley, which frankly was a lovely way to come out of sedation. I think I was picking flowers with Mirabel Madrigal.

At some point during all this nonsense my mother managed to get in touch with my boss who was adamant that I take as long as needed, which was a good thing. My dad came to the hospital with me but they wouldn't let him into the trauma unit. It was very chaotic and crowded and likely gross to watch so I get it.

After the realignment, they pushed my gurney to the space between X-Ray and CT to get better scans. They were both occupied so I sat in the hall for a few minutes and vaguely remember saying "Bonjour, hi!" and "Can I help you?" to random people who passed me. Once a retail worker, always a retail worker, apparently.

CT confirmed I also had a broken bone in my left foot. They moved me into ER main, put a boot on the left and bandaged up the wound. I was told I'd need surgery but they were so overwhelmed (ER was like at 160% capacity or something) so they had no idea when I'd be cleared.

They brought me dinner which claimed to be frittata and mashed potatoes but I'm fairly certain was actually upholstery foam and wallpaper paste. Thankfully it was so unappetizing I didn't eat more than a few bites, because my nurse was like "Hey so you're next on the OR list. If they ask if you ate, say no." XD Bless you Meagan, you saved my arse multiple times. You are a sarcastic, foul-mouthed, adorable angel among nurses (and really all the nurses were lovely). About an hour later they wheel me up to the ER, wash me down as best they can, and start prepping me. I meet the surgeon, who is as brusque and no-nonsense as orthopedic surgeons tend to be, but he did take the time to explain the whole procedure and risks, and make sure I was comfortable and understood.

What they were gonna do was drill down through my knee and insert a titanium rod down the centre of the entire tibia. The fibula was close enough and a clean enough break that it could rely on the tibia's stabilisation. Fun note about this particular surgery - you can walk on it within days of it being installed. No cast or anything!

The anaesthetist suggested a sedative and a spinal block (similar to an epidural) rather than a full unconscious anaesthetic because of my medical history and they're just generally less dangerous. However, it turns out the sheath around my synovial spaces in my spine is made out of fucking Kevlar or something. They bent SEVEN NEEDLES trying to get a shot in. Took about 45 minutes. I was numb so it was nbd but it was like... ten PM at this point and everyone was tired so when the anaesthetist was like "I think we should do a general" I was like "sign me the fuck up where's the consent form" I woke up a few hours later in the PACU (post-anaesthetic care unit) with a titanium upgrade, 37 staples in four separate locations, an incredibly fashionable thigh-high bandage, and my mother at my side. I faded in and out for about an hour and then remember being in a tiny little private room with its own bathroom. A total luxury in our older hospitals (The MGH as an institution has been around since the 1800s and the building I was in was built in 1955 - the bathroom even had adorable black and white tiling typical of the bathrooms of that era). That's pretty much all the dramatic bits of the story. They kept me for a week working with nurses, orthopedic residents, and physiotherapists until they were comfortable enough that I could move around enough at home to attend to my basic needs. I have crutches, a walker, a rolling commode so I can do the needful literally a foot from my med, a desk that slides over my bed, and thankfully two incredibly patient and indulgent parents. I'm fairly certain they never expected to be cleaning their 42 year old daughter's poop out of a bucket, but what can you do?

If anyone is genuinely curious, I have photos and would be willing to write up the hospital stay itself but 90% of it will be me complaining about the other patients on the ward who screamed at the nurses for everything and if I'd been able to walk I would have smothered with a pillow, or the "food" they tried to feed me which got increasingly inedible as the week went on.

If you've read this far, bless you. If you leave a note or message me I'll do my best to reply but I'm floating in and out of a dilaudid-infused haze so it might be a while.

At this point I'm not too proud (or possibly I've just lost whatever shame I had left when they cut my pants off), if you feel like sending me a get-well gift my amazon wishlists are here: general wishes | https://www.amazon.ca/hz/wishlist/ls/1K85M74WULR1N?ref_=wl_share

craft supplies | https://www.amazon.ca/hz/wishlist/ls/PXBKTW4UK0AQ?ref_=wl_share

US wishlist | https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2MT3KS1ZDZG0O?ref_=wl_share

(stuff will be delivered to my boyfriend and I'll open it whenever I'm allowed to fly down there)

#personal story #trauma #medical #emergency #multiple fractures #read at your own risk

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Anniversary Antics - Leonard McCoy

Requested by @dannydevitodevoted​:  Bones with "this bath is too damn hot" "this is why we can't do nice things, you complain too damn much"

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader Word Count: 3,442 Synopsis: Reader tries to plan a romantic anniversary night for Leonard, but Leonard being Leonard, throws things off plan. 

Warnings: smut

A/N: Hi all! Long time no see. I have no idea where this came from. I’ve just been seeing a lot of The Boys stuff appearing on my tl and am just always rabid for Karl Urban so here you go. 

Two years ago you had agreed to take the leap with a coworker and go on a first date. Two years ago, you had gotten to know a man who you only saw as a cranky old man. Two years ago, you realized that he was a cranky older man, but that he was also the man of your dreams. 

And now, two years later, you were celebrating your anniversary with Leonard. 

And you were determined that it would be perfect. You wanted him to feel as special and as loved as he had made you feel for your entire relationship.

Leonard had to work during the day of your anniversary, but he would be back to your cabin aboard the Enterprise that night - giving you plenty of time to set the stage for the perfect anniversary night. 

You decided to go with the tried and true classics: champagne, rose covered bed, chocolate covered strawberries, and the finale, a romantic bathtub. Initially, your anniversary had fallen on a day when you had leave, and you had arranged for a romantic hotel with a heart-shaped tub for two, but you would make do with what you had. 

You spent the majority of the day cleaning your quarters, hiding away anything that didn’t scream romance, and then got to work preparing your bedroom. You scattered flower petals from the entrance to your bed, arranged candles on your side tables to be lit right before Leonard came home, and then scattered some more petals leading towards your bathtub.

Admittedly, your tub was much smaller than the one built for two, but what was the harm in being smooshed closer together? That was the purpose of having a romantic bath.

After setting the stage, you cleaned yourself up, pinning your hair half up, half down, the way Leonard had expressed before that he found extremely sexy, and slipped into your new negligee.

You lit your candles, set out the strawberries, and poured two glasses of champagne, just as Leonard walked into your quarters.

“What is-” he stopped himself when he looked at you, the candle light illuminating on your face softly. “Hello,” he said.

“Hi. Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” he replied, stepping into the kitchen area, the door sliding shut behind him. He approached you and took a long look at your exposed skin and the silk covering the little bits that it did. He hummed appreciatively and put his hands on your waist. “You look stunning,” he said. You smiled as you leaned up to kiss his lips.

“Thank you.” You took a step back from him, enjoying the hungry looks he was giving you. His eyes dragged along the shape of your lingerie as you reached for the glass of champagne. He clinked his glass against yours.

“You didn’t need to do all of this,” he said. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, “This is how I always dress.”

“And believe me,” he said, taking a step towards you and wrapping a strong arm around you, pulling you to his chest, “I am not complaining one bit.” He kissed you again, his tongue gently pushing apart the seam of your lips. You sighed into his mouth, melting against his skin.

“Where do these petals lead?” Leonard asked, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours.

“Just a normal bedroom,” you said with a grin. Leonard kissed you again, gently nipping at your lower lip.

“Darlin’, you did not need to do all this.”

“Shut up and follow the petals, Leo,” you said, kissing him quickly. You grabbed the bottle of champagne and started backing up slowly towards your bedroom, your eyes locked on Leonard’s.

“We are celebrating the greatest two years of my life, and I am going to make sure to treat you like the incredible man that you are,” you said. Leonard’s gaze was devouring as he stalked towards you. Your back met the closed door and Leonard was there, a callused hand on your hip, slowly pushing up the hem of your dress.

“I love you,” he said, leaning down to claim your mouth with his. You moaned into his mouth, your hands, even the one holding the bottle of champagne, wrapping around his neck. His hands brushed up your hip, until his fingers were dancing against your ribs. “No panties?” he muttered, pulling away for air. You shook your head and bit your lip.

“God damn,” he said. You smiled and took his distraction as a chance to open the door. It slid open behind you and you turned from Leonard and strutted into the bedroom. He followed you, his eyes scanning over the romantic scene of your shared bedroom.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

“I love you,” you said simply, setting the bottle of champagne down on your side table.

“You shouldn’t have done all this, I’ve been working all day, I’m sweaty--”

“I don’t care,” you said, coming to stand in front of him, your arms wrapping around him. “I love every part of you and I want to celebrate us.” He sighed and leaned down to close the gap between you. His hand fisted into the back of your nightie as he pushed you towards the bed. Your knees hit the bed and you sat down, looking up at him, breathless. 

“You know,” you said with a smirk, “If you really are sweaty, we could always start things off in the bathroom.” You flicked your eyes towards the rose petal path and Leonard followed.

“You,” he said, grasping your hand and pulling you back to your feet, “Are spectacular.” He kissed you again, his hand tracing over your jaw, as he led the two of you to your bathroom. 

Immediately when he opened the door, the steam from the bath hit you. The room was at least five degrees warmer than your bedroom.

“Well, that’s something else that is hot,” you said, running your hand down Leonard’s shirt until you reached the hem and stared to pull it over his head. You watched his face, the annoyed look he was never able to hide well and frowned a little. 

“You know, I’m not much of a bath man,” he said, once he was shirtless. You started peppering kisses across his skin, enjoying the breath that he let out at your touch. 

“Well good thing I’ll be there with you to show you the ropes,” you said teasingly. You kissed him as you worked on unbuckling his pants. He started to protest some more, but you sucked on his lip, silencing him as he moaned. “Drop your pants,” you said, taking a step back from him. He kept his eyes locked on yours as he did so.

“Yes ma’am,” he said. “Any other commands?”

“Get in the tub,” you said with a tilt of your head. He looked at it skeptically again, and with another sigh, he stepped into the water. He seethed a little, pulling his foot back out. “What?” you asked. 

“It’s hot.”

“It’s a bath,” you said. You came up behind him, trailing your fingers across his chest, looking down to see the effect on him. “I promise you’ll get used to it,” you coaxed. 

“I love you,” Leonard said, in a way that meant you’re lucky I love you, and with one last kiss, sat down in the tub. You told yourself not to laugh. The bath was entirely too small for him, his legs couldn’t fully extend, but he was trying for you. 

You dropped to your knees next to the tub and reached for a washcloth.

“What?” you asked when he looked at you in confusion.

“You’re not joining me?”

“I might try to squeeze in there in a little bit, but first I thought I’d just take care of you.” You soaked the washcloth in the water and started massaging his skin. You watched his face, hoping to see a look of euphoria wash over his face, but he just looked uncomfortable. 

He met your eyes and could see your disappointment, so he adjusted his face as much as he could and tried to show he was enjoying your touch. You were sure that it wasn’t your touch that was making him uncomfortable, and hoped that soon the water would become a more comfortable temperature for him. 

You led the washcloth down his skin until it sunk under the water, and then you dropped it all together. You grasped his cock in your hand, your eyes locking with his as you stroked him.

You watched some of the tension start to slip from his body. Your other hand found the washcloth and went back to bathing him as you worked him in your hand. 

“Y/N,” he moaned, his head leaning against the bath wall. 

“I’m here,” you said, once again abandoning the washcloth as you moved closer to him. You tilted his head towards you and kissed him. He cupped your face with his wet hands, his breathing becoming shakier the more you massaged him.

“Y/N,” he moaned again, pulling away from you briefly. He started to climb out of the tub but you gently pushed him back in.

“Shh, just let me take care of you,” you said, kissing along the shape of his jaw.

“I want to feel you against me,” he said, again trying to budge from his position in the tub.

“Then I’ll climb in with you,” you said, your lips trailing over his speeding pulse. The pad of your thumb slid over the head of his cock and he let out a shuddering breath that was both a curse and a prayer.

“There’s no damn room,” he said, and you loved the fact that his voice was so rough, a result of your work.

“I promise we can fit,” you said, locking eyes with him. You released him from your grasp and started to stand up, readying to step into the water, too, when Leonard sighed.

“Y/N,” he said, rubbing his face tiredly, “Let’s just go somewhere else, this tub is not working.”

“Just give it a chance,” you tried. Wanting to still keep up the sexy rouse, you began to pull down the strap of your negligee.

“Y/N, come on,” he complained again.

“What?” you asked, frustrated tears beginning to pool in your eyes.

“This bath is too damn hot, let’s just—“

“And this is why we can’t do nice things!” you yelled, “Because you complain too damn much.”

You stormed out of the bathroom and slammed the door shut as much as the automatic locking doors could. Leonard sighed. His hard on gone, he stepped out of the warm bath and toweled himself off.

He took in a steadying breath and walked out into your bedroom. He expected to find you on the bed, but the petals were still scattered the way you had done so lovingly before he got home. Just seeing the work you had put into the evening, Leonard felt like a dick.

He walked into the kitchen and found you finishing off your glass of champagne. One look at the bottle made it clear that this wasn’t your first glass either.

“I’m sorry,” he said. You turned to face him, your features pulled taught. “I’m so sorry, I was an asshole.”

“Yeah, you were. But you were also right.” You sighed again and poured yourself another glass. Leonard moved in front of you, trying to lock his eyes with yours. “The bath was too damn hot.”

“It was, but knowing that you did all this for me, and that all you wanted was to make me feel good, darlin’, I should have boiled in there for you.”

You frowned and met his eyes. He noticed some tears still in the shadowed in your eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” you said, setting the glass on the counter. Leonard wrapped you in his arms, cradling your head against his chest.

“If you want me to climb back into that tub, I will. If you want to get in, I will drown myself, diving under to please you,” he promised. You snorted and pushed away from him. His chest was still wet, and so, your nightie was now clinging to every curve of your body. Leonard could see your nipples peaking through the thin material. His breath quavered.

“Did you have any other anniversary plans?” he asked, his thumb gently brushing over your nipple. You let out a shaky breath, turning your attention from your chest to his gaze.

“Well, I was going to suck and fuck you in that tub, but after that I didn’t really have any concrete plans.”

“Christ,” Leonard swore. He continued his slow caress of your breast, his thumb making achingly slow progress. “Why don’t we step into that beautifully decorated bedroom and I will make everything up to you?”

You looked him up and down and then nodded your head. “Okay.” Leonard’s callused hands gripped your hips as he pulled you flush against him. He groaned into your mouth as he started leading you towards the bedroom. Your hands grabbed the towel around his waist and pulled it down, abandoning it on the walk.

“One track mind,” he teased. The doors slid open behind you and Leonard guided you towards the bed until you fell onto your back. He watched your breasts bounce at the movement, and he was hard once more. Your eyes focused on his member and he grinned. “Like I said, one track mind.”

“Come here,” you said, resting up on your elbows. He crawled over you, his strong body straddling yours. Your hands cupped his face and his supported you as he laid you back on the bed. He kissed you, tasting the champagne on your tongue. He told you as much and you laughed.

“It’s okay, I like the way you taste,” he whispered into your ear. You whimpered and he smiled proudly. He started to kiss down your neck, his breath creating goosebumps on the sensitive flesh, as his hand reached under your dress.

“Leo,” you moaned, bucking when his fingers skimmed between your legs.

“What, darlin’?” he asked, right before sucking on your neck. You moaned again. Your legs gripped Leonard’s and he laughed. “Just making it up to you.”

He stroked up and down your folds, his steady doctor’s hands knowing just what to do to drive you crazy. His mouth continued its journey back up your throat, catching your lips with his.

“Have I made it up to you, yet?” he asked, pulling away to look in your eyes. His hand still worked between your legs, and your voice was shaky when you answered.

“Not yet, I don’t think,” you said. Leonard’s eyes never left yours as his thumb rubbed your clit. Your hips bucked up against his, but with a firm hand, he held you to the bed.

“How about now?” he asked, his thumb pressing a little bit harder, still making those slow, dedicated strokes.

“Leonard,” you pleaded. He only grinned as he started rubbing your clit faster. “Please.”

“Tell me you forgive me,” he said.

“We already—“

“Tell me, baby,” he said, his voice low. You cried out, nearing your end.

“Yes, fuck, I forgive you,” you panted. Leonard smiled at you before licking his fingers. The few seconds that he pulled away from you were agony, and you started to protest, but he was back a moment later, his big fingers fingering you until you came with a cry.

He didn’t stop for a few moments after.

“Leonard,” you pleaded, pushing his hand away from your sensitive skin. “Leonard.”

He leaned down to kiss your forehead and laid next to you.

“I love you,” he said, “And I’m sorry about before.”

“You’re forgiven,” you said with a shake of your head. “I love you, too.” You kissed him softly.

“You still taste like champagne,” he hummed.

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay, there’s just something else I’d like to taste right now.”

“Leonard,” you said, nearly breathless. “At least let me—“ He stopped your roaming hand and shook his head.

“It’s my anniversary, too, and this is what I want to do,” he said, patting his shoulders gently. “Get over here.” You grabbed his face and kissed him, your tongues tangling as you wrapped your body around him. His rough hands slid up your dress, until he was pulling it over your head.

He took one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking on the nipple, and you cried out.

“God, I love you,” you cried.

“Get up here,” he said, pulling you in tighter. You kissed him for a few seconds more before pushing him onto his back.

You crawled up his chest under your legs were straddling his face. You let out a shaky breath and he grinned.

“You are so beautiful,” he said.

“I want to get you off,” you whined.

“Not just yet,” he said. He gripped your ass, kneading it gently as he positioned you on his mouth. You whimpered at the first stroke of his tongue through your folds. “You are a goddamn feast,” he muttered between your thighs.

“Leonard, fuck.”

He continued to feast on you, his tongue dancing over every inch of you. He hummed as he sucked on your clit and you cried out at the vibration. He told you to touch yourself, so with his eyes locked on you, you kneaded your breasts, trying not to scream out at how good he was making you feel.

His tongue was moving rapidly against your clit, quickly making you come undone. “Just like that,” Leonard said, but you pulled away from him. “What are yo—“

“I need you inside of me,” you said, quickly claiming his mouth in a devouring kiss. Leonard was moaning when you pulled away and straddled his hips. You took his dick in your hands and started stroking him again, smiling sensuously at him.

“Fuck,” Leonard said, his voice rough. “Put it in.”

“Yes, Doctor,” you teased as you lined him up and sank down on his dick. You moaned at the sensation and Leonard was there instantly, gripping your hips as you adjusted to him inside of you.

Once you were settled, you started to rock your hips into his. With your hands on his chest, you never took your eyes off of him. You repositioned your hips a little to get a better angle and Leonard groaned, his head falling back against the bed.

“Good girl, ride my dick just like that,” he exclaimed. You moaned at his praise and continued grinding on his body. He gripped your hip tighter and with his other hand, positioned his thumb right in your clit.

“Leonard,” you whined.

“Don’t stop,” he said, his voice shallow.

“Never.”

You rocked into him as he continued to touch you. He sat up a few moments later, grasping your face to his, kissing you roughly.

“Just like that, baby,” he moaned, urging your hips on. “Just like that.”

“Fuck,” you cried. You were beginning to tighten around Leonard and he sucked in a breath.

“Yes, baby, yes,” Leonard breathed, “Yes, yes! Let me feel you come around my cock.”

“Leonard, fuck!” you practically screamed out, coming hard. Leonard clung onto you, riding out your orgasm until he was coming inside of you.

“God, yes,” he cried, his hands squeezing you impossibly tight. You clung to each other for a few moments more, calming down.

Once you had regained your breathing some what, you looked at him and kissed him.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he said squeezing your ass as he kissed you again. You relaxed against your pillow and sighed. Leonard looked at you with a raised eyebrow. 

“I think I’m still mad at you,” you said. 

“What? Why?”

“Because I wanted to make this night special for you, and instead it turned into you trying to make things up to me.” Leonard sighed and scooched up the bed until he was sitting up next to you. He brushed your hair out of your face and smiled at you, a long-suffering smile. 

“And what makes you think that making you come isn’t special for me?”

“Because it’s not,” you said, smiling slightly as you sat up. “You make it happen fairly regularly.” Leonard smiled as he took your hand in his.

“And it drives me crazy each and every time.” You leaned into his chest, letting out a half laugh. 

“Fine, just let me suck your dick the next time.”

“Ay, ay, Captain,” he said with a smirk. 

“Happy anniversary, Leo.”

“Happy anniversary, darlin’.”

#leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy #star trek #star trek imagine #leonard mccoy imagine #leonard mccoy fanfic #leonard mccoy fanfiction #st #st imagine #star trek fanfic #star trek fanfiction #st fanfic #st fanfiction

[twinkubus]

I would love some book recs! especially queer literary fiction!

Amazing!! I would love to share :) Also responding @ anon who asked for my trans book recs. This is for you too!

Since this is so long it'll probably get cut off on the dashboard, tl;dr there will be 1) list of trans-authored books and 2) a list where I talk about queer authors more generally (which includes some trans people that don't have trans characters in their books (yet)).

Trans Books by Trans Authors

Sketchtasy by Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore

Nevada by Imogen Binnie 

The Pervert by Remy Boydell (graphic novel)

X by Davey Davis

Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin

Dead Collections by Isaac Fellman

Transmuted by Eve Harms

Future Feeling by Joss Lake 

Paul Takes the Form of a Mortal Girl by Andrea Lawlor 

Everyone on the Moon is Essential Personnel by Julian K Jarboe

Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters

Infect Your Friends and Loved Ones by Torrey Peters

The Masker by Torrey Peters

Little Blue Encyclopedia (For Vivian) by Hazel Jane Plante

A Dream of a Woman by Casey Plett

A Safe Girl to Love by Casey Plett

Little Fish by Casey Plett

Confessions of the Fox by Jordy Rosenberg

Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars by Kai Cheng Thom

The Black Emerald by Jeanne Thornton

Summer Fun by Jeanne Thornton 

Small Beauty by jia qing wilson-yang

The above are all trans-authored books that have trans characters in them. They are mostly lit fic with a few dips into genre here and there. I have bolded some of my faves!

For queer book recs/authors more generally,

Poppy Z. Brite, the pen name of Billy Martin, who is gay and trans. He has some great 90s horror novels, in particular Exquisite Corpse, a gay serial killer thriller/romance.

Dennis Cooper, writes gay "extremist" fiction, my fave of which is The Sluts, which takes place entirely on an early 2000s gay escort forum.

Shola Von Reinhold, another trans author, wrote one of my fave books I've read this year, LOTE, which is textually extremely transgender, but I don't think explicitly "labels" the mc as trans, so I'm putting it in this list. I usually use 'dark academia' as a pejorative but this would be dark academia in the best sense of the word. Involves lots of research into weird stuff, hyperfixations, and very little academia.

Brontez Purnell writes lit fic about black gay men, and has another one of my fave books, Since I Laid My Burden Down, as well as probably the best title in this list: Johnny Would You Love Me If My Dick Were Bigger. Those were both smallish press releases, I believe, but he's gotten more attention recently via his FSG short story anthology, 100 Boyfriends.

Sarah Schulman. If you are on Tumblr hopefully you already know about her. If you haven't read any of her fiction, I'd recommend Rat Bohemia, Empathy, and People In Trouble (this is the book Rent was based off of).

Brandon Taylor is very popular on twitter but I feel like I haven't seen much about him on tumblr. I really liked his debut novel Real Life, which follows a gay black postgrad student in a midwestern PhD program full of mostly white people. He also has an anthology, Filthy Animals, full of linked stories that take place in a similar setting.

James Baldwin. Another classic author. If you haven't read Giovanni's Room, go read it.

Carmen Maria Machado has a stunning memoir, In The Dream House, about lesbian domestic violence. She also writes speculative fiction stories, some can be found in the collection Her Body and Other Parties.

Eric LaRocca is gay horror's current darling due to his breakout hit Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke, about an online long-distance lesbian d/s relationship. He's been pumping out the books recently, all with great titles and covers.

Jean Kyoung Fraiser released a debut last year that was in my top faves as well, Pizza Girl, a coming-of-age story about a just-married and recently pregnant 18 year-old who works (you guessed it) as a pizza delivery girl, and develops a crush on an older woman, one of her customers.

Venita Blackburn wrote How to Wrestle a Girl, a black lesbian coming-of-age short story anthology. Also a recent release. I really loved the writing in this one.

...Okay, I think that's most of the big hitters for me at least! Going to give a few honorary mentions: Love in the Big City by Sang Young Park, translated from Korean, about the life of a young gay man in Seoul. Also anything by Joe Koch, who writes horror, nothing specifically gay/trans that I have read yet, but The Wingspan of Severed Hands is really beautiful stylistically.

And just one more, since it's October: The Route of Ice and Salt by Jose Luis Zarate, published in the 90s and translated from Spanish, a gay reimagining of Dracula's sea voyage to England.

#queer fiction #lgbt fiction #book recs #idk if there are any tags people use lol well whatever #hope you can find smth you like :) #ask #currently reading

[waywardted]

This is not a love story.

#tedlassoedit #ted lasso #ted x rebecca #ted lasso spoilers #rebecca welton #teddy boy #tl x lit #m*ne #mine: lasso #otp: you liven up the place #this quote has been making me feel wild lately #the idea that every almost and fakeout and cosmic connection is Love itself banging on the walls of their story #looking for a way into it #to bring them together #😮‍💨 #i'm so enchanted by the magic

[starlit-dreaming]

☼ re: itbomm [masterpost] ☾

Fandom: WMMAP (Who Made Me A Princess) Rating: M (due to sensitive content) Major/Eventual Ships: OC x OC, Lucathy Minor Ships: Felily, Claudiana, Calena, and more Last Updated: 4/25/2024 Summary:

“Maybe next time.”

Athan was what one might call an anti-fan for The Lovely Princess novel — that is, he loved to hate it. It was total garbage, but the writing was pretty lit. Imagine his surprise when he finds himself reborn as a baby in that same garbage novel’s universe.

Or rather, a Lovely Princess fanfic he always reread in his previous life.

//A retelling wherein Athanasia has a younger twin brother… or at least, that’s what it should’ve been.

Author Notes:

1. Toska by Starshine-Dreaming does NOT exist as an actual fanfic.

It’s meant to be a bit of an inside joke and to reference myself (as my username is Starlit-Dreaming and I wanted to indulge in a few jokes to keep myself sane during the long writing process), but it’s possible that Toska will actually be written one day, but that would have to wait years down the line.

2. While I never mention actual fanfics in my stories, manhwas will be referenced with their full titles (usually in their English titles) for those interested.

3. This is a rewrite.

Some things will remain the same, and some things won’t be. The main difference for returning readers is that Athan and Athy will both have different recollections of The Lovely Princess, in which Athy read the novel and Athan was obsessed with a fanfic version of it.

4. Every chapter is, more or less, named from a song lyric. I do have a playlist being worked on, but it’ll stay as a WIP until the completion of this fic. Probably.

5. Unlike before, I will be showcasing the whole telepathy in ‘bold’ while actual thoughts will remain in ‘italics’. This is to avoid any confusion and to emphasize what’s being told to another character versus what’s being self-contained. Texts that are completely italicized are flashbacks and dream scenes.

CW/Content Warnings:

• Suicide (eventually discussed, mostly implied/referenced with the exception of certain chapters)

• Death (discussions/referenced)

• Murder (implied/referenced)

• Sexual Assault (eventually implied/referenced)

• Child Abuse (implied/referenced)

• Child Neglect (implied/referenced/discussed)

• Depression (implied/referenced/discussed)

• Unrequited Love

• Toxic Relationship (eventually implied/referenced)

• Unreliable Narrator

• Transphobia (internalized and past mentions)

• Dead Names (dead names will be used)

• Emetophobia (mentioned)

• Pedophilia (mentioned adult/minor relationship)

• Kidnapping

• Homophobia (internalized and past mentions)

• Infidelity (discussions and mentions)

Possibly More to be Added

Please inform me of any potential triggers that might affect you so that I’m made aware of whether or not it’s something to be added!

ALSO, due to the fact that this story heavily features suicide and grief, it will NOT be mentioned as an individual chapter warning unless it’s explicitly shown or deliberately discussed.

——————————

☼   MASTERLIST  ☾

——————————

Prologue

0 || an unfinished prologue

ACT 1: Beginning of The End

1 || let’s just live day by day

2 || we always knew that it’d come to this

3 || crystal clear, chlorinated and sky blue

4 || and i sank into the water

5 || and now i know there’s something more

TBD

///// EVERYTHING BELOW IS SUBJECTED TO CHANGE

ACT 2: Toska’s Villainess

Verena’s Intro + Athy’s Mini Coma Arc

TBD

Act 3: War Prevention Committee

General Intro + Hunting Comp Pre-Req

TBD

ACT 4: Competition and Revelations

Hunting Comp

TBD

ACT 5: In For A Pound, In For A Penny

Study Abroad Arc

Part 1 (8-9 y/o) - making friends

Part 2 (9-11 y/o) - in which autumn ruins plot

Part 3 (11-13 y/o) - athan gets Realizations^tm

TBD

ACT 6: Quand C’est Fini (“When It’s Over”)

tl;dr Lottie’s Arc

TBD

ACT 7: To Be Right Is To Be Wrong

Débutante Arc

TBD

ACT 8: Soaring High Into The Skies

Imposter Syndrome

TBD

ACT 9: To Be Driven by Obsession

Kidnapping Arc

TBD

ACT 10: “Maybe Next Time.”

Wish

TBD

ACT 11: A Dream That Will Never Be

Truths

TBD

ACT 12: End of The Beginning

TBD

Finale

Additional / After Stories

#starlit rambles #wynter writes #fic: in the back of my mind (rewrite) #re: itbomm #masterpost

[ivansergeyevichturgenev]

what is CRAZY is even privileged children lag behind their peers when taught to read using methods like "balanced literacy" or whatever the fuck they call it. because it straight up doesn't work and is not an efficient way to teach reading and it drives me BANANAS that like half of us states do not require reading instruction to be evidence based (even though we have known for decades what works and what doesn't). on top of that, many states also require students to be held back if they aren't on reading level eoy 3rd grade. sounds good right, considering a child not reading on grade level by 4th grade is unlikely to EVER catch up with his or her peers, a phenomenon referred to as the "matthews effect" (poor get poorer while the rich get richer) in the literacy field? WRONG. these programs do not work and children will not learn to read being taught the same flawed methods for a year. structured literacy with a heavy foundation first on phonemic awareness (the individual sounds in letters make up sounds cat = /k/ /a/ /t/ which includes skills like can you blend /k/ /a/ /t/ together can you change cat to mat /m/ /a/ /t/) is the ONLY evidence-backed method of teaching reading that reaches all students of all levels and backgrounds. it is based on the simple view of reading which has decades of research backing it up and is usually tl;dr: defined as this equation: decoding (word recognition is another term frequently used) x linguistic comprehension (or language comprehension, referring to the ability to understand spoken language etc) = reading comprehension. ie students have to be able to read written words (decode) and understand spoken language in order to translate that into reading comprehension. this is an example of a balanced literacy approach, which does NOT work

"owl eyes" sometimes referred to as "eagle eyes" means LOOK AT THE PICTURE. "skippy frog" means SKIP THE WORD. "flippy dolphin" means try different vowel sounds (instead of teaching different vowel patterns explicitly? for example tack has a short a sound while take has a long a sound because of the cvce pattern, sometimes explained to children as the "magic e" in structured lit programs that include phonics instruction. Shocking bc it's direct, explicit instruction). and if privileged children struggle to read this way, guess what? children who are struggling struggle even more. because all of this guessing and lack of explicit instruction means children with lds like dyslexia simply cannot learn to read. you increase a child's cognitive load exponentially when you teach them just to guess through reading instead of teaching them how to recognize patterns. i also recently had the pleasure of listening to a lecture by a phd student who taught middle school for years but left to pursue secondary reading instruction research because her middle schoolers could not write and she wanted to understand why. she delivered a very interesting lecture on morphology, the study of how words change, and how it is a promising way to teach secondary students more strategies to read better. this would include instruction on different roots and affixes around 4th grade, earlier if children are ready, so students have the knowledge they need to break up unfamiliar words before running to a dictionary. another tool is something called a word matrix. they haven't been studied really but the idea is students can see all of the parts of a word and can build onto the base word. there's space for analysis as well given sometimes spellings change, some words in the matrix aren't real, etc.

anyways i could go on forever about reading education and if i ever go to grad school i will probably go for this my specific interest is why do children have so much trouble translating spoken speech into written speech/how do we improve that

[televinita]

What if I went into the Spider part of the ‘verse

So I've secretly been circling the Spider Man (Baby Parker Version) movies for the past week in much the same way I was edging up to the Thor movies earlier this month. I'm very aware that Tom Holland has been on the cusp of stealing my heart at least since Uncharted, and it's only been escalating since I started watching Marvel interview clips -- and as YouTube notices, "so i see u like spiderkid" and keeps increasing the number of suggested videos along the lines of “5 minutes of Peter Parker being ___” type videos, I’ve been sneaking into them and it’s become very clear to me that I will be exploring this corner of the mcu next.

(I still can't believe that I was always SURE if anyone was gonna get me to break the Marvel seal it would be Chris Evans, and somehow he is now 3rd in line)

But anyway, most of the clips have been funny so still not really a priority, especially lacking all context and background knowledge except in a general sense of what I know from having seen the Tobey Maguire versions once upon a time. But my interest spiked last night upon stumbling over this (warning: character x listener vid, a category of audio I didn’t even know existed; y/n fic is evolviiiiing)

Which lit up my brain like a Christmas tree. And since I couldn't actually tell for sure if it was just a sound-alike or perhaps edited together from actual footage, I went looking for canon tears, and YouTube was like "what if I punched you STRAIGHT in the face with a death from No Way Home."

Naturally, I took one look at that thumbnail and said “sure,” and tl;dr it went so beyond my wildest dreams that I have lost my MIND. This is the kind of content I want uploaded directly to my brain always. Holy shit. That's incredible. So drawn out. So much repetition that is so unnecessary from an editing standpoint, and so very necessary for my insatiable appetite for angst and trauma. To quote some Beyonce lyrics, it was all that I wanted, and it was more than I thought it could be.

I can't even feel sad about this scene yet -- I will, eventually -- because I am just so focused on holy cow your face and voice and the hair petting and everything (round 3 of men being absolute kittens toward their beloved adoptive mothers maternal figures!). Is Peter also one of the MCU's punching bags? I Am Listening. (or maybe secretly everyone is a punching bag at some point, idk. i guess i don't know most of these people.)

#i can speak relatively freely about No Way Home at this point right? #i remain in a weird place where it's like 'k so tom holland is just about old enough to be admitted to the Handsome Men's Club #but I think Peter Parker still registers as just a kid? makes no difference to how my brain feasts on trauma but feels important to note #eta: wait is he still in high school even in the 3rd movie? i assumed like 20. ok then definitely kid #anyway congrats on the screen crying skills; sometimes what is more important to me even than actual tears is the vocal control #and this is just SPECTACULAR #(contrast with Thor's...grief-stricken? yell in TDW that just breaks me out of the scene every time) #mcu related

[shitminds]

It’s Really Not That Deep: The Overanalysis of Literature in Systematic Education

Or: Why Lord of the Flies is Not About Intrinsic Evil

I’ve recently reread Lord of the Flies after first reading it at school a few years back.

The copy of the book I read has a little introduction about Sir William Golding and his philosophy that inspired Lord of the Flies. It went on and on about Biblical ‘Good’ and ‘Bad’, the regression of human civilisation, intrinsic evil and all the pessimistic bs you covered in ninth grade English Lit. 

But despite its repetitiveness and uselessness, I gained a bit of information from the intro about Golding's biography that I was not aware of: he was a commander in the English Navy during World War Two. 

With that in mind as I read the novel, I started piecing together a little idea: Lord of the Flies is not about how humans are undoubtedly shitty, but rather it’s a reflection of how war and conflict breed unfettered hopelessness. 

I’m not going to go into what I think the themes and allegory in Lord of the Flies deliver- that’s a whole other post -but rereading the novel absent of any encouraged ideology really does completely change the way you think about the literature you read in school: what if I wasn’t told at 14 that humans must be under strict societal rules, otherwise chaos would fester as shown in this Great Classic, but instead learnt the effect and manifestation of war on literature and philosophy? But no, every little bit of lotf told us that without a-to-z civility handbooks we will all dig ourselves into deep anarchy and barbaric tribes

Reading a book written seventy years ago and being told to look for a message that has already been delivered to you pre-read is pointless if what is being taught is interpretation. 

So, if not the free interpretation of literature, what did we learn from reading all those mandatory pages? I think nothing is a close answer. 

Usually, the subtext you were meant to look for is just a reinforced idea of what the literature should mean- that is, there are incorrect and conversely correct interpretations. In addition, this singular interpretation of the literature is overanalysed to the point of meaninglessness. This analysis happens in the name of in-depth reading and recognition of literary devices, metaphors and style, but really it is a surface reading that lacks creativity and encourages all but model-answer-brain-rot.

I don’t think that the Humans Are Bad reading of Lord of the Flies is necessarily incorrect- there shouldn’t be right-and-wrong in literary understating, especially in your ninth-grade reading of X classic- but it shouldn’t be pushed as the only way to read the novel. And this, of course, applies to all other works of literature. As long as you can justify your interpretation of unstated philosophy, themes, metaphor and all else, your interpretation shouldn’t be dismissed. 

TL;DR: Secondary school English sticks to a one-dimensional understanding of timeless literature and then milks the shit out of it until you are literally scraping for whatever symbolic bullshit that will get you an A. It is not how we should introduce people to meaningful stories.

PS. This is me shit posting. I am bored and it is summer. This is obviously not an academic analysis and I am also very bad at writing so yk, I encourage social niceties

PSS. I’ve read this back just now, and I realise I make very little sense, but anyway this exists and it shall stay

#books #reading #novels #book review #analysis #words #lord of the flies #literature #schools #education #school system #shit post

[wildwren]

awwww thanks for tagging me @aelflaeds !!

Last Three Songs: "Wild Heart" by Caitlin Canty, it's so lovely, every one in the world should listen to it. Also "Lord Abore and Mary Flynn" by Lankum which is in fact the key to my entire brain chemistry. Finally "Ashamed" by Deer Tick because [redacted]

Three Ships: Right now, my brain is most lit up by Roy x Jamie because TL S3 is giving me everything for them, Katniss x Peeta because im in my HG era and circa 2012-era everlark fic writers simply get me on a level no one else can understand (no i will not explain), and finally my OFIC OT3 who have been bouncing around my brain like popcorn kernels for a lil while but are still coming together 

Currently Reading: Eye of the Heron by Ursula K. LeGuin (my beloved) and I also just started If on a winter's night a traveler by Italo Calvino. 

Last Movie: Musta been The Philadelphia Story with @aadmelioraa IRL!!!! It was so funny i loved it so much I want to watch it again asap. also hilarious that my contribution to the movie sharing was Swiss Army Man. 

Craving: ice cream and angst

I feel like I've seen this go all the way around but @aadmelioraa? @wovesaxe? @weavemeamyrtlecrown? @insufficient-earth-skills?

#if you saw a different notif then no you didn't #tag games

[bentosandbox]

Actual blog post since I was stuck in the ER/A&E for 4 hours earlier today (escort mission not the actual outpatient) so while waiting I finally finished reading 水浒传 / Water Margin what do you mean this is what the Suikoden game series is loosely based on as research for my epic Chen Wuxia dissertation doujin (not real) (unless) and uh

It was something™ I guess... idk if it was just the age showing (read a 2010 edition of the J. H. Jackson translated 70 Chapter version dating from uh /opens Wikipedia/ 1937 apparently) but some parts still read kind of weird (you know when your brain goes ‘should x word fit better here’)but whatever, still went through it pretty fast at the beginning it is very readable...! Even though it’s basically just this

Guy just being a dude > world is unfair > kills someone or does something similar > oops i guess i have no choice but to go to Mt. Liang > now morally acceptable to kill anyone he doesn’t like as long as he doesn’t betray his bros > goes to next guy’s POV

rinse and repeat 107 times...and then somewhere I hit a certain point where it just made me pause and go like ?

Can’t be bothered to re-lookup names but the moment was something like the bandits wanting to recruit some guy but he refuses multiple times so one of the bandits kills the boy the guy was protecting/escorting and is like “haha well now you have no choice but to come with us" goodguysbtw.jpg and this happens again later where some guy kills several people and then writes ‘guy-i-want-to-recruit did all this’ on the wall in blood or something. Also there was some guy who just unga bungas his way through his problems (in an insane and not fun way) and gets nothing more than a stern warning like a bad dog lmao

It was so hard to finish the last ~25% after all this and I didn’t even mention the women in this novel yet....funny how the Wikipedia page said “Modern critics have debated whether Water Margin is misogynistic“ and I looked up some essays/journals defending/rationalising it which I guess is understandable as a word of caution of it’s time or whatever but it’s still muh-soggy-knees though is it not lmao...tl;dr women bad and evil? Die, horribly❣ Not ‘beautiful’? They can show up occasionally to do 1(one) thing and fuck off I guess

Well it wasn’t something I regret reading in the end since it’s an interesting study on Confucian values/boomer fiction, etc. which is a big part of the Wuxia genre my Arknights-addled brain kept going “This is so stupid. Chen behaviour” so I consider this a W...

Apparently Dream of Red Chamber (one of the other 4 goated cn lit books) is a much better book women-respecting wise but I should probably finish reading Existentialism Is a Humanism first so I can do the “Ackshually when Lappland said that Texas was a coward she meant it in a existentialist way” section of my Lappland analysis doc

#bentotexto #hope nobody here actually reads this i just got lazy to split it into tweets

[jazzywazzy89]

All I know about the new IWTV is from gifs and posts one the tl from mutuals, but something about Jacob Anderson’s Louis has unlocked my old standom for Bonnie Bennett fix it fics, especially yours. Just the idea of Bonnie and Louis in a candle lit New Orleans parlor, slow dancing to jazz and reading next to each other and falling in love. Reminds me about how I used to feel about her and Klaus but honestly better lmao. A sweet little nothing thought I wanted to share with you since it made me smile, like your work has done over the years. x

Hey Anon,

First, I will say thank you for reading! I remember the ship the Bonnie with all the things days. I still write just update sporadically largely because rl stays kicking my ass. Lol. Second, Louis is very gay, which you wouldn't know since you don't watch the show. But Jacob Anderson is beautiful and an incredible actor and I could see how him as a vampire would bring about shipping feelings!

Funnily enough, characterization wise Louis is closer to what Plec tried and failed to do with Elijah. Lestat is closer to what Plec tried but failed to do with Klaus. I could see Bonnie and Louis as friends and having and affinity for one another. Maybe a sibling relationship which I would love because as much as the Bennett family was used as a plot point and magical negro saviors Bonnie never had actual family that stayed around or were able to be there for her and I would've loved that for her even in friend form.

Off topic but kind of on topic if you've read my fic The Gods of Virginia I always imagined the OC Thomas as Jacob Anderson. LoL!

But thanks for sharing because reading this did make me smile as well. Also you should check out the show.

#anons #replies #not tagging