#which the science is still debating a bit on

[aisling-saoirse]

Spartina Alterniflora (aka Sporobolus Alterniflorus) - Smooth Cordgrass

Smooth Cordgrass is many things: a signifier of salinity, an extremophile, a creator of habitat, and a peat builder. This lovely species typically colonizes the low marshes of heavily salinited areas near the ocean where other plants cannot. It is endemic to the Atlantic coast of both North and South America, forming the backbone of most brackish ecosystems. While it may appear to create a monoculture within its habitat niche, Cordgrass actually does such an important job in building marsh.

As sediments collect from rising tides the colonal roots of this plant trap nutrients to accure peat and in turn provides a lot of habitat for mussels, fiddlercrabs, nesting birds, and other prey species. The process of building this peat is called marsh accretion, its what allows marshes to build elevation and migrate in the face of sea level rise. Similar to Mangroves, Cordgrass can monopolize saline habitats due to its ability to survive tidal conditions and secret salt from its leaves (zoom in on the leaf with my finger to see salt crystals collecting).

Salt grass can grow up to six feet tall and typically spreads colonally or via seed. As sea levels rise many existing salt marshes are dying, however, cordgrass individually is rather resilient, as it is one of the few species which can cope under increasing exposure to salinity. In Philadelphia we see this species slowly creep up the waterways as salinity increases up the Delaware River. Spartina Alterniflora is very famously invasive in other areas of the world however here where there is biological control we see heavy losses to existing ecosystems (especially in the Chesapeake bay) as stresses from climate catastrophe increase.

I have a lot of love for this species and it's ability to carve out a bountiful ecosystem in what is considered a desert to almost all other lifeforms (image above: Nest made from cordgrass).

#native plants #brackish ecosystem #Delaware bay #spartina alterniflora #smooth cordgrass #salt marsh #brackish ecosystems of the american atlantic #i believe spartina is an extremely distinct genus which is why i don't use sporobus personally #but that's a very Mid-Atlantic opinion apparently #which the science is still debating a bit on #plant profiles

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

Exposing SVSSS Fanon: 16/∞

LUO BINGHE HAS A "STEREOTYPICALLY MASCULINE" APPEARANCE

Rating: FANON - CONFLICTING

In fanworks, Luo Binghe is often portrayed as particularly muscular and buff, broad-shouldered, often with tanned skin and sharply-defined features-- all traits that are considered to be stereotypically masculine in the west.

All of this directly contradicts his canonical description.

Necessary disclaimer: I'm not talking against depicting Luo Binghe with a naturally darker skin tone. While that still contradicts the canonical description, I can understand going against colorism (something very rampant in east asian beauty standards!) in fanworks. This sort of discussion is particularly toward those who portray him as fair-skinned on Qing Jing Peak, darker skinned after the abyss, hence "tanned." While this sort of thing might have issues of its own, that's also not the topic of this post, and as a light-skinned Asian person, I don't feel particularly qualified to talk about it.

In truth, deep down, Bing-ge’s fair and clean pretty-boy type didn’t really suit the tastes of “Great Master” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky.... The art of growing stallions was grounded in science, and the research was clear: women preferred men who looked cultured, pretty, and even a bit soft and feminine. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

The buff and bulky Luo Binghe often seen in fanworks is not what I would consider to be cultured, pretty, soft, and feminine.

Luo Binghe is described this way just before the conference:

A seventeen-year-old youth, slim and tall and graceful, dressed in white robes, lips turned upward in the hint of a smile, gazed at him with a pair of shining eyes. (7 Seas, Ch. 4)

And again after his return:

The other party was a little taller than [Shen Qingqiu], slender and willowy, dressed in clothes as black as ink that exposed only a fair neck.  (7 Seas, Ch. 7)

And a description of his hands later on:

That hand was slender and unadorned. It didn’t look like the hand of a young lord of the demon race who had already taken countless lives, but rather one whose master had been born to pluck strings, his hand to burn incense and bathe in snow. (7 Seas, Ch. 14)

Consistantly, Luo Binghe is depicted this way-- slender and refined, with fair skin and a softness to his appearance that contradicts his actions.

Furthermore, Luo Binghe is also described as looking very similar to his mother:

Luo Binghe was beautiful, and he looked quite like his birth mother. (7 Seas, Ch. 4)

and

Yue Qingyuan’s knuckles slowly brushed along Xuan Su’s hilt. “I was able to meet Senior Su Xiyan once at an Immortal Alliance Conference, many years ago. Luo Binghe’s appearance is seven-tenths identical to his mother’s.  (7 Seas, Ch. 18)

As for Su Xiyan's appearance, not much is directly stated-- it can be inferred that she likewise looked quite similar to Luo Binghe, but the only description of her physical appearance that we have is found here:

Even if she wasn’t burly and heavyset, she should at least look like a martial arts master with fierce and ferocious eyes. For all that, when he finally met the culprit behind Tianlang-Jun’s bout of philosophical soul-searching, which had tormented Zhuzhi-Lang for many days, he realized that the culprit in question was not quite like what he’d envisioned... ... Just as these two tourists were standing penniless in the street, a tall woman dressed in black strolled by, sword on her back. (7 Seas, Ch. 25)

The only positive descriptor here is that she is tall, but it can also be implied that she does not have the appearance of a martial arts master, and did not look as fierce and ferocious as Zhuzhi-lang expected, especially in terms of her eyes. However, she is described as a cold person-- whether or not that carried over into her appearance, though, is up for debate.

Su Xiyan's eyes are another matter for discussion--

In appearance, Luo Binghe resembled his mother Su Xiyan, but you could more or less see the shadow of his father in him. For example, in the eyes. Tianlang-Jun’s eyes were deep-set, his brow strong and heroic, the irises dark like fathomless water. In this, he and Luo Binghe were very much alike. Luo Binghe had a pretty boy appearance in the first place, but if his eyes had resembled his mother’s too, his face would have been excessively feminine and the effect would be lost. (7 Seas, Ch. 15)

Here, specifically, Luo Binghe is noted as having his father's strong brow and deep-set eyes, as opposed to his mothers, which based on this passage were most likely to be round, soft, and "feminine"-looking. It's also interesting to see that if not for having his father's eyes, Luo Binghe's features would be "excessively feminine," therefore implying that the softer look applies to all parts of his face except for his eyes and brows.

(thanks to @furbygoblinxiv , @bijoumikhawal for bringing up this point)

So, Luo Binghe is a lithe and petite pretty-boy. Nonetheless, he is still notably muscular. Specifically with a surprising amount of lean muscle-- something that Shen Qingqiu actually remarks on:

Luo Binghe was on top, and Shen Qingqiu was on the bottom, so he was smushed under a considerable weight and almost unable to draw another breath. What had this child been eating?! He looked quite slim, so how was he this heavy?! ... A person’s abdomen is supposed to be the softest spot on their body, but Luo Binghe’s was uncomfortably hard against Shen Qingqiu’s stomach. The farther down he pulled him, the more he was sure that Luo Binghe had an eight-pack. Was that a rock slab down there? (7 Seas, Ch. 16)

(thanks to @verycharismaticdragon for bringing up this point)

As for where the fan depiction of buff, tanned, "hyper-masculine" Luo Binghe may have originated?

I'm not certain where the first such depiction came from, but as for the logic behind it, such phenomena could be explained as thinking of Luo Binghe, the stallion protagonist, as having an "ideal masculine" appearance.

For western audiences and beauty standards, this would certainly be that same sort of muscular, tall, with tanned skin and defined features. Naturally, when first thinking of what a "stereotype of an ideal man" would look like, these traits would come to mind to a western audience.

It is a bit different in eastern standards. While muscular appearances can still be favored, lean muscle is vastly, vastly preferred over bulky muscle, and fair skin, which represents elegance and status (as those with fair skin tones are perceived as those who are wealthy, and do not need to work outdoors) is preferred over tanned skin. This is, of course, a generalization-- but as a representation of ideal masculinity, Luo Binghe's appearance would also be a generalization.

Particularly, Luo Binghe's figure and appearance is described not as those favored by men for themselves, but as those favored aesthetically by women. Therefore, that gentle, refined appearance is a must.

While western vs eastern beauty standards may play a role in this, it is also possible that western vs eastern character design standards may also be coming into play. While in eastern character design, things such as color and style of clothing and hair play a very large role in creating visual contrast, in terms of western designs, body shape and style, along with hair shape and style, seem to be far more important, with the idea that a character should be recognizable by silhouette alone. This may lead to western-trained artists, and also those who grew up watching primarily western cartoons, unconsciously applying those same standards to their own design-- such as making Luo Binghe broader-shouldered and with rounder shapes, the "heroic" type character design, in contrast to sharper, narrower shapes for Shen Qingqiu, the "villain" type character design.

(thanks to @gaywarcriminals , @mu-qingfang-stan-account , @temporoom for bringing up this explanation)

One additional possible reason would be the potential for heteronormative/"het-coding" standards being applied to a gay relationship, where the gong is being given more "traditionally masculine" features in order to align with gender roles. This is something that is fairly common in BL/MLM shipping and designs in general, so it wouldn't be unreasonable to think that it might apply in some fashion to Luo Binghe's fan-design as well (Note, this does not apply to actual fem/masc mlm pairs, because those do exist and it isn't always about heteronormativity. This is specifically referring to taking characters with roughly similar build like SQQ and LBH and making their designs distinctly more masc/fem based on who tops and who bottoms).

(thanks to @mysteryteacup and @gurggggleburgle for bringing this up)

As for the true source of these design elements, it probably cannot be narrowed down to just one-- rather, it would be an amalgamation of bits and pieces of all of the above, as well as the popularity and spread of certain designs throughout the fandom and artists taking inspiration from one another.

So often i've seen that Luo Binghe's bulk and muscles are shown as key traits of his physical appearance, despite the fact that this directly contradicts his actual depiction in the novel. Thus, it is inaccurate to depict him this way.

Luo Binghe's canonical body type and build is tall, slender, and willowy with lean musculature, and his features are soft and a bit effeminate. The best example I could give for reference would be to base his body type off of a pretty-boy type idol.

Of course, fanartists are perfectly free to continue drawing him however they please, but it should not be assumed that a Luo Binghe with bulky musculature, tanned skin, and sharp features is a canon-compliant depiction.

Luo Binghe is a pretty-boy.

#fanon exposed #conflicting #svsss #luo binghe #edited

[fungal-rot]

Pure Instinct - Surrender

okay so i've been seeing those tiktok ads about that Pure-Instinct perfume and I had A Thot- it was originally supposed to go a different route, but i kinda went everywhere with this LOL.

summary: no outbreak; you bought a new perfume, one that's supposed to entice the opposite sex. but just how well does it actually work?

warnings: MDNI- smut (unprotected p-in-v), joel being a bit of a horndog, semi-desperate sex, oral (f receiving), use of 'good girl' and pet names (darlin', baby, pretty girl, honey), a bit of bulge riding, slight dom!joel, established relationship, no age specification for reader- lemme know if i forgot anything! - also please note i’m getting back into writing. i’m a lil rusty and still getting back into the flow of things; apologies for any mistakes.

w.c.: 2.7k

    ⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

All over the internet you've come across different videos advertising some 'pheromone perfume-' a blend of essential oils that are meant to work with your own natural scent, enhancing your body's pheromones- or something of the sort. Seeing the men become infatuated with their girlfriends and wives, clinging to them with lust-blown pupils certainly had your interest piqued.

After an- albeit, quick- internal debate with yourself, you bit the bullet and looked up the seller's site, coming across different smells like 'Crave,' 'Lucky,' 'Fallen-'

And 'Surrender.'

Sounds sexy. With a smirk you click on it, reading the description,

'Surrender has a sophisticated and mature scent which designed for the woman who wants to feel confident, beautiful, and sensual. Own any room you enter in. You won't just be noticed — you'll make heads turn. Sexy, but not vulgar.'

Sounds dominant.

There were different layers of notes, like magnolia, mandarin, vanilla, sandalwood; the list went on. Seemed like a good choice. You were about to add it to your cart, finger hovering over the button, but then you hesitated. Did you really need this? Was it that important to find out if it was worth the hype? To see if Joel would be unable to tear himself away from you, kissing you hungrily while ripping your clothes off an-

Added to your cart!

It was for science.

You even opted to pay extra for express shipping, heart racing with a giddy bite of your lip.

The day it arrived, you were practically bouncing on your feet with glee. Joel was at work, wouldn't be home for another hour or so. That meant you had plenty of time to get things together and play around with it.

Taking a quick shower then pulling a low cut shirt over your head and shimmying a pair of leggings on, you grabbed your little container of liquid-luck, rolling it over your heat points; a little between your breasts, behind your ears, along the crook of your neck, wrists, and fold of your arms. It definitely smelled alluring upon first apply. Now to let it dry and wait.

-

Keys jingled outside the door, the knob twisting a few times before the entrance swung open followed by a rather exhausted looking Joel Miller who stumbled through. The man heaved a heavy sigh as he tossed his keys into the dish and toed of his shoes before padding to the couch where you sat, pushing your cuticles back as you watched a rerun of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer.

"Hi, sugar," you greet, flicking your eyes to him as he flopped down, making you bounce softly. His hair was damp with sweat from being out in the hot Texas sun all day, thick veins protruding from his work-callused hands, trailing up his arm.

"Hm," he grunted in reply and placed his palms over his eyes as he leaned against the back of the couch, chest expanding with a deep breath only to falter for a split second. Joel took in another breath, this one loud and deliberate. With hands lowering from his face, he turned his head to you, slowly, with knit brows.

"D'ya smell that?" He asked, sniffing again with a curious glance of the room.

Now, you had to play this right. You couldn't just outright tell him you bought perfume that would have him slobbering all over you, no. That would defeat the purpose of your little experiment.

So instead you played coy and sniffed at the air just as he did, nose turning up with a gentle shake of your head and small bob of your shoulders.

"I don't smell anything."

He nods slowly, eyes narrowing with a slight slack of his jaw, tongue poking through the side of his teeth while he studied you.

"You don't smell that?" Joel pressed further, almost exasperatedly.

"Smell what, Joel?" A quiet titter sounded with your words, brows arching as an amused grin toyed at your lips.

"Jus'..." Joel trailed off, wetting his lip with a quick swipe of his tongue. The scent wasn't too overbearing. It was sweet, musky, and a hint of something so conversant. Something that always managed to get him hot under the collar. A heat that not even the dry summers he endured on a frequent basis could compare to.

That's when you leaned over him- totally not at all planned- reaching an arm past to grab one of the magazines on the end table. Joel drew another quick breath and it hit him. Before you could retreat he snatched your wrist with a tight grip, pupils dilated widely with parted lips. " 'S' you..." He murmured, attention solely on you and you alone.

The corner of your mouth twitched up into a smug smirk, "Is it?" You hushed back, feeling goosebumps erupt across your skin as he pressed a kiss to your inner wrist, slowly trailing up your arm and to your shoulder. A curt chuckle sounded from his chest as his own lips turned up. "Mm, I think so, baby," Now his lips danced on the crook of your neck, taking another whiff.

'Oh, fuck, that's good.' He thought, emitting a low growl.

"Yeah..." He purred, teeth grazing over your pulse point and eliciting a quiet moan from you, "that's alllll you, darlin'."

Hell, if Joel was tired before, he was certainly up now- in more ways than one.

"C'mere, pretty girl," He muttered and sat back, legs spread as he motioned two fingers in your direction. He watched with hungry intent as you crawled into his lap, thighs straddling his. Joel pawed at your hips, rolling them forward against the bulge straining in the confinements of his jeans with a grunt.

"Got me so damn hard an' ya haven't even done anything," With another forced roll, he throws his head back with a sigh. "Ride." He ordered with a strained voice, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. You didn't move just yet, however, and took in the sight of him; eyes shut and brows knitted softly, plush lips parted.

"Ride," Joel repeated with a firm smack to the meat of your ass, making you yelp and rut against him once more. You could feel the warm thickness of his cramped length through the thin cloth of your leggings, each continuous grind against your clit made you writhe in pleasure.

Good god, you were doing a number on him. He bucked his hips up in time with yours, panting faintly before sitting up and wrapping his thick, strong arms around your body.

Joel buried his nose into your neck again, allowing your enticing scent to flood his mind. His stomach tightened, and he had to pull you off his lap before he came in his underwear like a damn teen. You whine at the loss of friction, expression forming a soft pout as he laid you down, head against the armrest.

"I know, baby, I know," Joel cooed and tenderly cupped your jaw, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, " 'M gonna take care'a ya." He leaned down and planted a quick peck to the side of your nose.

"Always do, don't I?"

The man lowered himself down your body, hands stopping to caress and grab every now and then before slipping his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, swiftly tugging them down and watched as a string of arousal pulled, connecting the fabric to your lips. He smirked, relishing the fact you were just as turned on as he was, but what really caught his attention was-

"No panties?" He quirked a brow, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face as he continued shimmying you out of your pants. "Y'had this planned, didn't ya?"

You chuckled, biting your lip meekly and avert your gaze. Whoops! Caught.

"So, what is it?" He asked, curling a leg into the couch as the other planted on the floor, his head dipping to your center and placed an open-mouthed kiss to the inner crease of your hip.

"Surrender," You answered breathily, peering down at him as continued lavishing you with loving smooches and pecks, his wiry facial hair scratching at your body that only fanned the flames in your tummy.

His brows drew together with a vague frown as he lifted his head, "Whaddya think I'm tryin' ta do right now?"

Even though his words made you clench around nothing, you still couldn't help but laugh and bring a hand to your mouth to stop yourself. With a shake of your head you say, "No, dummy. I mean, that's the name of the perfume I bought."

Joel tilted his head back in a slight nod, uttering a soft 'Ohhh.'

"I dunno how I was s'posed ta know that," his head lowered once more, breath fanning over your wet heat and flicked his eyes to meet yours, "but it's fitting."

He didn't even give you a chance to process what he said before diving straight into your folds, tongue lapping over every crevice and drinking you down.

"O-oh, fu-fuck!" You breathed out, thighs instinctively closing around his head as your hand grasped at his sweat-matted brown hair.

He growled into your cunt, bracing his hands on either side of the soft, pillowy flesh of your legs and forcing you open again. Normally, Joel loved using them as his own personal pair of earmuffs, but now? He wanted you spread for him, needed it actually. He'd drown in you if he could, and by god he'd willingly die trying.

His mouth detached for a moment, just long enough for him to stick out his tongue and let a string of drool fall over your labia, watching with a satisfied smirk as it slid down to your entrance. Snaking a hand from under your thigh, he brought two fingers to your clit, brushing the pads of them over it with teasing glides. Your hips twitched and bucked with a soft mewl leaving your throat.

Joel dragged his bottom lip between his teeth before lowering his fingers. Down, down, then circling at your hole and slowly pushing in. A sharp gasp ripped from your chest, back arching as you finally got that stretch; so achingly sweet.

His cock twitched at the sound, begging to be let free and seek shelter deep inside your pussy. He had enough restraint (for now) to get you off first.

And they say chivalry is dead...

He latched his mouth back onto you, slurping obscenely as he licked his way up, fingers curling into the spongy spot of your canal.

"Jo- oh- el!" You cried his name brokenly, hand closing a tight fist into his hair with a tug. You could feel the fucker- no pun intended- smirk against you as he pumped his fingers in and out, picking up the pace as he suckled on the sensitive button. Your whines grew more relentless, hips rolling against the flat of his tongue and holding his head in place as the coil in your stomach began to tighten.

Joel felt you clench around his fingers and took that, along with the way you fervently bumped against the bridge of his nose, as a sign you were close. With a wince he reached his free hand to his jeans, fumbling with the button before sliding the fly down, reaching in and finally pulling out his hard cock.

Said hand went back to its rightful place against your thigh while he rutted against the cushions, pre-cum making a mess into the leather.

"C'mon, darlin'," He murmured, taking a quick glance at you and reveled in the sight of your flushed cheeks, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back against the arm rest. "Give it t'me, cum around my fingers." You didn't need to be told twice. In an instant, that coil snapped. Your legs trembled and shook as your climax ripped through your body, eyes snapping open and mouth agape, but no sound came out other than a few breathy whimpers.

"Good girl," Joel praised, still subtly grinding against the couch, desperate for his own release. "Good fuckin' girl." You had made a complete mess of his hand, your spend dripping down his fingers, into his palm and down his wrist, dribbling onto the sofa.

After your body relaxed, hand releasing the harsh grip from his hair, Joel pulled his fingers from you, making a shudder run up your spine. He sat back on his haunches, pushing his hand to your mouth and said, "Open."

Complying happily in your blissed-out state, your jaw slacked, allowing him to slide his soaked fingers into you warm mouth, palming himself with his other hand while he watched your lips close around the digits, feeling your tongue lick and clean your slick off them.

With a satisfied hum, he removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, greedily shoving his way past your teeth and licking the roof of your mouth.

Joel backed away, staring deep into your eyes. He huffed, pulling his pants down further, stepping out of one leg. He was so fucking horny and desperate right now he wasn't going to bother with the other one. This would do just fine.

"Need t'fuck you, baby," He spoke in a hushed tone, and without further warning he grabbed your leg and hooked it around his waist just before sliding right in with ease.

The two of you moan in unison. Either he was fucking huge- spoiler, he was- or you were really fucking tight.

Joel collapsed, a hand splayed next to your head to catch himself so he wouldn't fall directly on top of you as he bared his teeth with a hiss.

"Chris' onna damn bike," He slurred, gently lowering himself further and snaking an arm under you as he lazily thrusted into you.

He glanced down to where you two met, watching as he delved in further, "She's jus' swallowin' me in."

An aquiline nose sought out your neck, the sound of Joel consuming your scent filled your ears once more. He simply couldn't get enough. Hips snapped against yours incessantly, skin against skin bouncing off the walls and drowning out the sound of the tv in the background.

The man above reached a hand under your shirt, groping and squeezing your tit as he lowered his forehead to yours, half-lidded eyes boring into yours intently.

"Fuck," He muttered, eyes widening, hips stuttering, "Fuck, 'm close." Joel was a little ashamed of himself. He couldn't remember the last time he made it to the finish line so quickly.

He was quick to remove his hand from under your shirt, finger dipping to the spot where his cock pumped in and out, collecting your slick before sliding it up to your puffy clit yet again.

"Y'think you can gimme another'n, honey?"

"Y-yeah," You nod, feeling that familiar flame lick up your spine. "Wanna cum on your cock."

Joel's lip curled into a snarl at your admission, eyes rolling back before fluttering shut. His movements blundered, then he pulled out, leaving just the tip slotted in your entrance.

"Please," he whined. Whined.

That fucking did it. Your body tightened for the second time this evening, eager to let go and milk Joel of every last drop he had to offer.

"I'm c-" He interjected with a slam of his hips, making you see stars as he fucked you through your orgasm, the head of his dick tapping your cervix as he pushed himself as deep as he could, jerking into you almost feverishly. Your name fell off his tongue like a mantra while he held you flush against him, your back peeling off the leather with arms wrapped around his back as you nestled your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the musky, sweaty scent of him- your personal favorite brand of 'pheromone perfume' he wears.

After his body lightened, he turned his head and placed a listless, yet tender kiss to your temple. You made a move to crawl away, but that made his grip on you tighten.

"Not yet," he spoke lowly and leaned back, pulling you with him. "Wanna stay like this. Jus' for a minute."

His hand smoothed back your hair, the two of you laid there in silence to catch your breath. After a good ten minutes or so, you lift your head to peek at him, "So, I take it you liked the perfume?"

Joel offered a lopsided smile, rolling his head to the side with a swallow, "Loved it, darlin'."

You'd have to remember to buy more in the future.

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

hi, hello, thank you for reading. as stated above, i’m still basically re-learning to write. i’m trying to get in the hang of properly pacing out the story, not too rushed but not too wordy either. feedback is appreciated! pls feel free to interact with a reblog or comment <3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #joel miller x you #tlou #the last of us #joel miller one shot #joel miller the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #pure instinct

[nicromancytarot]

DRAWING YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE’S APPEARANCE

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings.

PICK A PILE READING

I asked my spirit guides what your future spouse looks like, I’ve drawn a VERY rough sketch for a man and a woman, pick a pile and find out which one is for you!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

PILE 1

MALE

- Blonde hair

- Glasses

- Strong muscles (both body and face)

- Prominent Adam’s apple

- Blue eyes (first thing you notice, they could even sparkle a bit)

- Wavy hair

- Fair skin

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Teacher / Professor

- Mathematician

- Secure in themself

- Into politics / debating

- Doctor / Nurse

- Scientist

- Public speaker

- Wealthy

- Uranus

- Aquarius

- Calves

- Vegetarian / Strict diet

INITIALS: N, H, S, E, M

FEMALE

- Blonde hair

- Blue (fish) eyes

- Glasses

- Nose piercing (hoop)

- Prominent cheekbones

- Fair skin

- Large bust (posible surgery)

- Small waist

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Social media (influencer?)

- Hairdresser

- Slow talker

- Scientist

- Dancer

- Therapist

- Humanitarian worker / Advocate

- Artist

- Something wrong with one of their arms

- Folklore

- Cosplayer

INITIALS: B, A, P, F, E

PILE 2

MALE

- Dark skin

- Dark eyes

- Dark, short hair

- Wears a lot of caps (specifically blue)

- Skinny body

- Sad resting face

- Stubble

- Pretty smile

- Tall (6’ - 6’3)

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Rich

- Large house

- British

- Small waist

- Enemies to lovers

- Hugger

- Into styling and fashion

- Chef

- Lawyer / Judge

- Chess

- Army

- CEO

- Producer

INITIALS: S, H, I, D, Z

FEMALE

- Dark skin

- Dark eyes

- Dark hair (wears a straight wig from time to time)

- Long face

- Pretty smile

- Prominent eyelashes

- Neat eyebrows

- Prominent collarbones

- Large bust

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Rough past

- Farmer

- Humanitarian worker

- Estate agent

- Emotionally mature

- Carer

- breadwinner

- Protester

- Train conductor

- Likes to go on walks

- In charge

- Police / firefighter

INITIALS: G, R, S, N, T

PILE 3

MALE

- Fair - tan skin

- Light - dark brown hair (possibly ginger)

- Hazel or brown eyes

- Small lips

- Skinny body

- Wears a bandana

- Possible piercings

- Small eyebrows

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- School

- Part of the LGBTQ+ community

- Many jobs

- A texter

- Understanding

- Into science, possible scientist

- Mechanic

- Author

- Protester

- Football (soccer)

- May have cheated in the past (could do it again)

- Peanut allergy

- Office job

INTIALS: N, P E, R, S

FEMALE

- Fair - tan skin

- Brown or green eyes

- Light brown hair

- European

- Large eyes (Tim Burton)

- Large, dark eyebrows

- Tall (around 6’)

- Small lips

- Hooked nose

- Wears a bandana

꒰꒰・┄┄┄┄・♡・┄┄┄┄・꒱꒱

- Pain

- Possibly born prematurely, or could give birth to a premature baby

- Good with money

- Shy

- Rebellious

- Works in a place where she has to restore things

- Nut allergy (I screamed when I got this for both lmao)

- Possible black sheep of the family

- Contemporary

- Past life soul that owes their life to you in this one

- Strong

- Model

- Coach

- Gets sick a lot

INITIALS: W, A, M, K, T

#tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot witch #free tarot #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a pile

[catsvrsdogscatswin]

Since there’s a bit of a hiatus in Dracula Daily right now, I thought I’d take the opportunity to ramble about what I know of vampiric folklore and history in Europe because I cannot contain my infodump and it’s actually really interesting.

Painting it in very broad strokes, the earliest folkloric creature we would recognize as a vampire was acknowledged in Europe in the 1100s and earlier as a human corpse that physically rose from their grave and returned to their former home/village to drink blood. (A 12th-century English text, The Life and Miracles of St. Modwenna, mentions two examples of this type of vampire.) These vampires’ victims did not become vampires as well, but sickened and died, usually from wasting diseases. What caused the original person to become a vampire was variable, but usually involved being, just, an absolute jerk when they were alive, or an increasingly convoluted series of ways in which they attracted bad luck/evil while they lived, after they died, or as they were buried.

This is where the traditions of stuffing a stone in the potential vampire’s mouth, decapitating them and putting the head in the grave between their knees, burying them facedown, cutting off their hands or feet, burying them in a too-small grave, piling stones atop the grave, or burying them with broken legs came from. All of these are regional or historical variations on ways to quite literally prevent the presumed vampire from digging their way out of the grave and causing trouble: an “And stay down there!” maneuver that we’ll see survive into modern pop culture in the form of a stake through the heart.

This was the predominant form of vampirism up until roughly the 1700s: someone nasty in the village died, and after a while, would start reappearing to their family or loved ones at night, slowly draining their lives away as they fell to a wasting disease like tuberculosis or leprosy. Once the villagers caught on, they would exhume the body, find it suspiciously preserved and with blood trickling from its mouth, and then take steps to neutralize the vampiric threat by beheading, staking it through the heart to literally pin it in the grave, stuff a stone in its mouth, or a combination of all three. 

(You may have heard of the Venetian mass-burial plague pit an archeological team discovered: one of the skeletons had a brick shoved in her mouth. She was the only body treated in such a way, implying that she was thought to have been a vampire: hypothetically even the vampire that caused this local upswing of the plague.)

A cultural shift happened in the 18th century, however, when the Austro-Hungarian Empire gained territory in Serbia and other portions of the Balkans. Since they were neighbors with the Ottoman Empire, the Austro-Hungarians kept a heavy military presence in these new territories, and the emperor of the time (Charles VI, I believe) asked the occupying forces to collect reports on the local customs and folklore and send them back.

A number of the reports they sent back included vampire stories.

Now, this was the Age of Enlightenment: many countries were pulling away from old superstitions and following the new methods of science. Belief in vampirism was a rural thing, and widespread plague situations had faded enough that they really weren’t relevant anymore and had fallen out of a lot of people’s memory. 

But the thing was... science was still new, and this whole vampirism thing sounded just plausible enough to be extremely interesting. The Austro-Hungarians sent all sorts of scientists, doctors, and clergy members to collect and dissect and discuss these stories, and for a short spate of time vampirism was the hot new discussion topic in esoteric circles. And for then and a while after, if you wanted case studies, debates, and just about any reference material on vampires, you knew you’d find it in Austro-Hungary’s library.

Eventually the scientific community all concluded that this vampirism thing was just silly peasants not understanding the process of decay, but the arts crowd -particularly the Sturm und Drang folks in Germany- remained very interested in this exotic new creature steeped in mystery and death. Sturm und Drang translates to “storm and stress” and if I had to describe their style in modern terms, I would say (roughly, and with affection) “a love of edgy tragedies.”

There were a number of poems and works spawned from this flurry of interest, but this Austrian version of the vampire still shared a common theme: more like a revenant than anything else, coming for their loved ones first, and a lot of their horror was tied up in how blasphemous and unChristian their very existence was. Less emphasis was placed on getting rid of the vampire and more was placed on the artistic allure of vengeance from beyond the grave and the vampire’s inherent exotic mysticism and threat.

Stoker, in fact, directly references an example of this in Dracula! On May 5th, when Dracula’s telling the coach driver that he knew they were trying to get Jonathan out of there before he showed up, because he himself drove fast enough to intercept them, one of the other passengers whispers to his friend “Denn die Todten reiten schnell,” which translates roughly to “For the dead ride fast,” a quote from Burger’s Lenore.

Lenore is a poem about a young woman whose fiancé died in the Seven Years’ War (connection with Austro-Hungary). In her despair, she curses god (old-school invitation for vampirism), and the following night, her lover knocks on her door to take her on horseback to their marriage bed (vampires attack their loved ones first). He takes her on an increasingly terrifying ride through the night, prompting the above quote, which ends in a graveyard, where he is revealed to be a skeleton and Lenore dies.  

Lenore was written in 1774, and although William is not technically a vampire, the poem is an example of the old-school vampire type. The vampire is a physical reanimated corpse that does not create more of its kind, but causes the people around them to die/waste away, and attacks their loved ones before anyone else. The transition to what we finally would recognize as a modern vampire started with Carmilla and was solidified in Dracula.

Written in 1872, Carmilla is a blending of both old and modern vampiric tropes. It uses the then-expected setting of the Austrian Empire, all of the titular vampire’s victims wasted away and died rather than rising as vampires themselves, and Carmilla’s coffin was filled with blood when she was unearthed. However, she was also able to shapeshift into a cat and walk through walls -no longer just a revenant- and she could walk around during the day without harm. She also does not target the people she knew and loved in life first: Carmilla is a vampire centuries old and her current victims are chosen indiscriminately. The vampire as a folkloric creature was evolving.

And, side note, while it was used partially as a narrative device to show how evil and unnatural Carmilla was, she was also gay. Gay as fuck. People who lost their shit at 

“Then the Count turned, after looking at my face attentively, and said in a soft whisper: ‘Yes, I too can love’” 

will go absolutely mental at Laura going

“It was like the ardour of a lover; it embarrassed me; it was hateful and yet overpowering; and with gloating eyes she drew me to her, and her hot lips travelled along my cheek in kisses; and she would whisper, almost in sobs, ‘You are mine, you shall be mine, and you and I are one for ever.’"

Anyway. Queerness is baked into the concept of the modern vampire from the very beginning, what of it.

With Carmilla as the springboard, though, Stoker was free to finally create Dracula, which was essentially the turning point between modern and archaic vampire depictions. He took all of the old stuff and reworked, revamped (heh), or added to it to get the foundation of the stereotypical vampire we know today.

He shifted the geographic vampire hotspot further over from Austria-Hungary, landing it in neighboring Transylvania. Dracula’s victims weaken and die and seem to be inflicted with a strange wasting disease, but can also turn into vampires themselves. Driving a stake through his heart and cutting off his head is no longer an attempt to pin him in his grave and keep him from rising, but merely to destroy him. He was dead, yes, and very unholy, but he also had powers beyond merely being a risen corpse, and his power set became the standard for future vampire media.

Hence, Dracula becomes the foundation for the modern concept of a vampire, which is why pop culture usually treats it as the beginning point of vampirism in general.

#Dracula Daily #Dracula #Carmilla #vampires

[fazedlight]

Why am I obsessed with the rift?

From my first fic to the many many many many season 5 fics I've written, to the fic where the whole thing could've been averted in season 2, to my no-villain-era-for-Lena in season 3 (twice) and season 4 fics......... I seem to have developed a bit of a rift pattern.

A reasonable person might ask: Why?

There's something that itches in my mind: I think either woman would've been fully justified in walking away from their friendship, and yet they ultimately didn't.

It starts with Kara, who is ultimately a fractured person. She deeply values the truth, and yet she's forced to live with various lies, unable to be her full self.

Her identity is in the in-betweens. She feels adrift between two cultures, she knows her alien state while reaping the privilege of passing, she hides core aspects of herself on a daily basis. I'm sucked into the rift, in part, because of who she is and how she struggles to put it all together. I think her frustration will resonate with anyone who's stuck in the in-betweens.

Kara's struggle for identity plants the seed for the rift. The bigotry of society meant she had to have a secret identity in the first place, and keeping the secret from Lena was certainly reasonable for a time.

We can debate endlessly about when Kara should've told Lena - I think it's really hard to find the line between "too soon" and "too late" - but it ultimately doesn't matter. Because it's Kara's kneejerk reaction to Lena's kryptonite that forms the first sort of betrayal, not the secret itself.

Kara screws up - she says something she regrets, she doubles down when threatened and scared. These are common mistakes... but we have super-level circumstances, so we get super-level consequences. And the engine she has inside her that fears loss (which she's suffered to a level that is unimaginable to anyone on Earth) kicks in. She can't lose another person she loves.

But who is she holding onto?

In the series, and in flashbacks, we watch Lena's progression from idealistic techie to cynical recluse. While she's experienced loss and isolation, that's not the cause of her shift.

It's in experiencing her idol and protector become the madman who kidnaps her. It's in realizing her best friend has betrayed her by taking the one thing that could've saved her brother. It's in moving to a new city to start over, and meeting a mentor who uses her to start a global invasion. It's in her partner in scientific discovery being a pawn to her brother, colluding behind her back.

And then there's the final downfall. Her new best friend - her trusted confidant, her hero, the one who made her feel not so alone anymore - is the super who denigrated her, maligned her, spied on her. Lena had two important people in her life at that point, and she sacrificed one for the other... only to find out the other was a lie.

With betrayal after betrayal - Lex and Andrea and Rhea and Eve and Kara - she loses faith that anyone is above their worst impulses.

So she falls to her own.

How can good people do bad things?

There's a saying I heard around MIT sometimes: there are no technical solutions to social problems. It's easy to forget - when you're surrounded by people seeking to improve the world via science and engineering - that you can't solve humanity via technology or logic or rules. Lena forgot this.

Myriad marks a shift in the rift. Kara lied to Lena, antagonized her, spied on her - but her wrongs were directed towards Lena. Lena's initial response - the petty manipulation and the plan to out Kara - were directed back at Kara.

But then the rift fundamentally shifts.

At this point, Lena's wrongs are no longer just about Kara - she's trying to brainwash the world. She mindcontrolled Malefic and enslaved Eve. This went beyond the fallout between two friends.

It's clear that her intentions are still good here. She's not a megalomaniac like her brother, she's not forming an us-vs-them mentality like her stepmother. She's an anti-villain at this point in the story - desperate to find what's true, in a world full of lies.

It's a hard line to walk, acknowledging Lena's trauma and well-intentioned motivations while realizing she's still ultimately culpable for her own actions. But it's important to try to balance, because Lena is still redeemable.

But getting back to the relationship itself - Kara played a large role in pushing Lena to the edge of her trauma, which was entirely motivated by Kara's own trauma.

You hide things so you don’t lose people. I run from people who hide things. I guess we were bound to explode.

Lena says this in my first fic mentioned earlier, and it summarizes the rift as succinctly as I can put it. Their traumas were incompatible, and their relationship should've failed.

And yet.

Delving into how the CW screwed up the rift could be its own essay. They gave us a complex and layered situation, only to gut it with It's a Super Life (beloved/beloathed), the narrative retroactively justifying Kara instead of examining her foils, glossing over Lena instead of delving into her ethical blindspots. The rift was cancelled.

What does that leave us with?

Well, I guess it left me seeking the rift, over and over again. I'm certainly not the first author to do a rift fic, and I doubt I'll be the last. There seem to be a few different approaches:

Some authors delve into the nuance, having the two characters hash out what they've been through in a way that feels balanced and real. In particular, I love the @searidings fic with the birds i'll share this lonely view. I don't think I have the skill to pull off that type of story.

Some writers lean heavily on one "side" or the other, often with lots of grovelling. This never resonates with me, because at some point in a relationship there has to be the realization that it's "us vs. the problem", rather than "you vs. me". In my mind, these fics miss the layers of trauma that led to the rift.

Some authors make the rift not matter. If you put the characters through hell and back, the anger will lose its thrust, and they'll be left wanting to heal.

I fall into the last category.

There's a moment from permanence by @itllsetyoufree that I especially love, where - in the aftermath of season 6 - Eliza asks Lena why she forgave Kara. Lena can't answer.

We like to think we're logically driven. But in my experience, forgiveness - and a host of other emotions - never work that way. Sometimes "sorry" cuts it, sometimes it doesn't. A lot of times, forgiveness comes from the realization that someone genuinely wants to connect, and that the fallout was relatively unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

Of course, when your fallout includes extra levels of gaslighting and a bit of global brainwashing, making it relatively unimportant requires something drastic.

That's where I end up landing. Putting my blorbos in Situations helps them see the other in a new light - see the other's genuineness, the other's fears, the other's love. Often times, this comes with the simultaneous threat to someone's life (though that's not necessary, especially if it's earlier in Lena's breaking point cutoff).

I do assume - and sometimes imply - that they're also having those discussions, working things out in the background. Because of what I put them through in my fics, I don't think those end up being explosive discussions. It's about figuring out the practical aftermath of what the heart already knows at that point.

Whether I deliver on that is ultimately up to the reader, but that's my approach. Because at the end of the day, love is about cherishing and understanding the person in front of you - flaws and and traumas in all. These stories are driven by loving both characters, and trying to see them the way they see each other.

The rift is a story about love and connection - how those things can't happen without embracing someone else's trauma and without understanding one's own imperfection. Because that's what's at the root of all of us.

And that's why I write the rift.

#this felt good to finally put into words #(note: this approach made writing the pre-S5 fics particularly rough but that's a tangent that didn't fit in here) #(I don't delve into every ethical question either but I wish the show had) #supercorp #headcanon #mel stuff

[sexcromancy]

young adult, new adult, and fantasy fiction: the audience of a book is who reads it

title clumsily based on the purpose of a system is what it does.

before we begin, I want to focus a bit on defining our terms. young adult, new adult, adult, science fiction/fantasy, speculative fiction, contemporary romance - all of the terms I will use in this post are created by marketing companies and readers, and all of them have fuzzy and subjective applicability to any given book. there is no objectivity in cataloging, which is the lens through which I approach knowledge organization projects like this. there is no definitive answer to what any given book or genre "is", because these categories are not fixed values. instead, their values are expanded and developed by what gets placed in which category, by whom, and what criteria they base that decision on. that's what I want to discuss.

to provide some context: debates over age categories and who is reading what books for which age ranges currently dominate discussions among publishers, authors, librarians, and readers. ages of characters in YA are skewing up, sales are slowing down. young adult as a category has existed for 50+ years, but it is currently undergoing some growing pains. here's one more article for good measure. new adult is a term created by the publishing industry in 2009, which developed in fits and starts despite multiple bestselling authors publishing under the category. oh well. in 2015, sarah j mass published her new book, a court of thorns and roses, which is widely regarded as a turning point for the popularity of new adult (more on the classification of ACOTAR itself in a moment). NA stalled out for many years, but has recently very quickly grown in popularity, especially for romance readers on booktok. some of the most popular books listed under new adult on goodreads are colleen hoover's it ends with us and it starts with us, ali hazelwood's check & mate, and rebecca yarros' fourth wing.

I want to look at two of these currently very popular authors as case studies to really dig into what new adult has come to mean.

in this 2014 interview, SJM discusses her currently running throne of glass series and the upcoming release of ACOTAR in 2015. she notes that the book is intended for "a slightly older YA crowd (aka steamy times ahead!)". earlier in the interview, she dodges a question about whether throne of glass will be YA or NA by saying she appreciates her teen and adult readers - if I had to guess, the label was still too new and publishers didn't want to alienate anyone. in 2023, I can't find anything on her website or bookseller sites that specifically identify the series (or any of her series) as YA, NA, or adult. however, Goodreads (which relies on user generated tags and is, to put it lightly, a mess wrt information organization) firmly classes ACOTAR as YA - almost 9k tags in young-adult and ya (lack of authority control is just one aspect of the mess), as opposed to about 3.5k new-adult. the thing is, though, ACOTAR comes up in essentially every blog post and article I read on the definition of new adult. it is a flashpoint in the discussion: it either did or didn't restart the term, it is or isn't too sexually explicit to be classed for teens, the writing is filled with young adult tropes and this does or does not matter. the answers to these questions aren't particularly important to me, but it's very interesting to see how people are attempting to draw those boundaries. I took a quick census of how SJM's series are classed in my library system. her throne of glass series is uniformly shelved in YA; ACOTAR is mostly YA with a few copies in adult, and her newer crescent city series is mostly adult with a few copies in YA. I do think that any discussion of ACOTAR is partially colored by this divisive relationship to the new adult category itself, so I'd also like to bring in a much newer book facing similar conversation.

if you follow this blog you might already know that I have an entirely non-neutral relationship to ali hazelwood; I love her books both as books and as cultural objects deserving of study. previously, she published three adult romance novels and a set of adult romance novellas, which all fall firmly and inarguably into those defined categories, based on age range and content (I have an argument for the love hypothesis being a horror story, but that's a different conversation). last year, she published her newest book, check & mate, as a young adult romance. it was widely marketed as such by the young readers imprint at putnam. however, on reading it, I (and many goodreads commenters) were surprised to find that it aligned more with some hallmarks of new adult. the characters are out of high school, and the challenges and growth moments are more focused on evolution, rather than coming of age. one blog post I read made the argument that YA is about high school firsts and NA is about adulthood firsts. this is amorphous, partially because there is no real one life path into adulthood by which to judge this, so let's switch focus to something more concrete: sex. in each of Ali's adult novels, there are a few explicit sex scenes. they're not as explicit as other romance novels, but they're definitely not fade-to-black. in check & mate, characters have sex, but it happens entirely off-screen and any discussion is fairly chaste or, at most, relying heavily on implied content. this is a real disconnect to me. much of NA lit (ACOTAR included) is quite sexually explicit. among those most popular NA books on goodreads, there are many books that get marketed specifically for their sexual content (spicy🌶️ to the tiktokers, smut to everyone else). to me, this cements check & mate as a YA novel - if she was going to write a book with explicit sex, like her others, she could've. she's mentioned in interviews that her chess novel concept originally featured older characters, and she aged them down once she realized what kind of story she wanted to tell. to me, it is telling that moving from adult to YA creates more clumsy caution around the handling of sex, as opposed to SJM, whose books "aged" upwards over time.

another interesting example I've noticed in the emerging NA space is how the age category intersects with genre. YA as a category has a pretty expansive genre playing field - we've all read YA fantasy, contemporary romance, historical fiction, action/adventure, issue novels, etc. NA so far seems pretty exclusively limited to romance as a main focus, especially in the most popular offerings as discussed above.

I've seen many a tiktok alleging that despite the drawn out fight scenes, extensive lore, and huge interconnected web of characters, the ACOTAR books are not "real fantasy." even more so for the fourth wing books. I've seen these books compared to Tolkien, as if to say, well, if you didn't invent a language, you're not really on the same level. that's entirely unfair, imo - plenty of fantasy doesn't engage at that level. but there is a wide array of contemporary fantasy I do think we can contrast with ACOTAR and other popular NA series.

we've discussed some of the hallmarks of YA and NA as categories: the age range of characters, coming of age, explicit sex for NA. i'd add fast-paced, immersive writing, especially in first person or close third, because so much of the appeal described on booktok is a book sucking you in completely. now, i want to bring up a few books that, on the surface, might check several of these boxes: dune by frank herbert has an 18yo protagonist, and the first book is very much a coming of age story. eragon (christopher paolini) and the name of the wind (patrick rothfuss) focus on a young person coming into their magical abilities through school/mentorship, a similar setting to many YA series. mistborn (brandon sanderson) and game of thrones (george r.r. martin) both have prominent protagonists that are 18 or younger when the story starts. of all these series, only eragon has young-adult as its most popular age-related tag on goodreads, and eragon was, at the time of release, very specifically marketed to and shelved in young adult in bookstores and libraries. some of these books have explicit or non-explicit sexual content, but only GOT has even close to as much as your average NA novel (to my knowledge).

i am not alleging that any of these books should be classed as YA, necessarily. but the glaring difference in their marketing and readership does point to one thing: these books are largely about men, and they are all written by men. i am not the first person to point out this gender gap in fantasy writing, and i don't have anything particularly new to say about it, except to bring it back around to my original point. none of these novels "are" adult fiction, and plenty (plenty!) of teenagers read them, in an interesting reversal of the trends in YA. who is making the decisions about where these books go, and why? what can we draw out about the books and their marketing? how is the future of "adult fantasy" shaped when these are the benchmarks by which we measure new entries?

i did also look into a few of my own favorite sci-fi series by women to see how they ranked by similar parameters. parable of the sower by octavia butler, featuring an 18yo protagonist and sexual content, has no age category at all in the top 20 most popular goodreads tags. it's in adult fiction in every library in my system that owns a copy. ive seen gideon the ninth (18yo protag, and yeah lets go ahead and say explicit sexual content) on YA shelves in bookstores, but its adult tag on goodreads is more popular, and almost every library in my system has it in adult. in my opinion, these books are important in rejecting the "women write YA, men write adult" narrative around speculative fiction, but they're not necessarily an exception to a different trend. it is not difficult for me to think of more adult scifi/fantasy books by women, because i actively seek them out. however, almost every single one of them has a protagonist under 25, as is the case with so much of the adult fantasy written by men listed above. last year, i read the adventures of amina al-sirafi, by s.a. chakrabotry, which was (i believe) the first non-contemporary/realistic fiction book ive ever read with a middle aged mother as the main protagonist. the book club at my library branch, mainly composed of middle aged and older women, read it, and expressed such genuine joy and excitement over a fantastic, adventurous book featuring a woman they saw themselves in. representation really does matter, and it matters to everyone, not just young people. but that's a different soapbox.

young readers are extremely picky. i've watched many a teenager (or younger) browse the YA section and turn up their noses at books with a cringey cover, an overly dramatic blurb, or just because. marketing books to teens is hard. booktok is an incredibly powerful marketing tool and divisive social force. it skyrockets an author one day and by the next week, other accounts are tearing that same author to shreds. in this environment, its no surprise that the sensationalized books - extremely good or extremely bad, blatantly sexual, shocking, consumable - become flashpoints of discussion. who should be reading ya? who is it for? what is inappropriate for young teenagers to read? what is inappropriate for adults to read? i think about these topics a lot, especially as what the publishing industry terms a "gatekeeper" - i'm a children's librarian; i control the access teenagers in my community have to these books. i take that role seriously, and i want to be thinking deeply about the books i put in my YA section and who will read them. our decisions, about where we class books, how we label and present them, how we discuss them: that is part of what dictates what genre and age classification a book "is", in addition to marketing.

#okay.... been working on this on and off for months but im finally fucking finishing and posting an essaY!!!! #2k words on genre classification lfggggg #please let me know what you think.... very open to thoughts esp from people who read these areas !!!! #ok to reblog btw :> #frames

[togglesbloggle]

I won't be opting out of the AI scraping thing, though of course I'm glad they're giving us the option. In fact, at some point in the last year or so, I realized that 'the machine' is actually a part of why I'm writing in the first place, a conscious part of my audience.

All the old reasons are still there; this is a great place to practice writing, and I can feel proud looking back over the years and getting a sense of my own improvement at stringing words together, developing and communicating ideas. And I mean, social media is what it is. I'm not immune to the joy of getting a lot of notes on something that I worked hard on, it's not like I'm Tumbling in a different way than anyone else at the end of the day. But I probably care a bit less than I used to, precisely because there's a lurking background knowledge that regardless of how popular it is, what I write will get schlorped up in to the giant LLM vacuum cleaner and used to train the next big thing, and the thing after that, and the thing after that. This is more than a little reassuring to me.

That sets me apart in some ways; the LLMs aren't so popular around these parts, and most visual artists especially take strong issue with the practice. I don't mean to argue with that preference, or tell them their business. Particularly when it is a business, from which they draw an income. But there's an art to distinguishing the urgent from the big, yeah?

The debate about AI in this particular moment in history feels like a very urgent thing to me- it's about well-justified economic anxieties, about the devaluation of human artistic efforts in favor of mass production of uninspired pro-forma drek, about the proliferation of a cost-effective Just Barely Good Enough that drives out the meaningful and the thoughtful. But the immediacy of those issues, I think, has a way of crowding out a deeper and more thoughtful debate about what AI is, and what it's going to mean for us in the day after tomorrow. The urgency of the moment, in other words, tends to obscure the things that make AI important.

And like, it is. It is really, really important.

The two-step that people in 'tech culture' tend to deploy in response to the urgent economic crisis often resembles something like "yeah, it sucks that lots of people get put out of work; but new jobs will be created, and in the meantime maybe we should get on that UBI thing." This response usually makes me wince a bit- casually gesturing in the direction of a massive overhaul of the entire material basis of our lives, and saying that maybe we'll get around to fixing that sometime soon, isn't a real answer to people wondering where their bread will come from next week.

But I do understand a little of what motivates that sort of cavalier attitude, because like... man, I don't know any more if we're even gonna have money as a concept in 2044. That's what I mean by 'big', this sense that the immediate economic shocks of 2024 are just a foreshadowing of something much bigger, much scarier, much more powerful- and indeed, much more hopeful.

We never quite manage to see these things coming, even when we're looking for them; like the masters tell us, the trick to writing science fiction isn't predicting the car, it's predicting the traffic jam. Even if we take centuries to hit the true superintelligent AI post-singularity future of our wildest fever dreams, even if we never hit that, the road to getting there is going to be unfathomably weird, starting now. Today, we worry about the economic impacts of AI on artists and creatives. Tomorrow, the economy is something that the AI does.

Really- it takes less than you think. They can already automate visual art, sort of. They can automate many functions of text already; not stories so much, yet, but they'll get there. How long until they can automate Bain Capital? Fannie Mae? Angel investors, banks, credit agencies? And remember- the machines don't have to be better than the human investors, any more than they have to be better than the human artists. They just have to be good enough to make it work, and cheap enough to cut the humans out of the loop.

If you don't buy that, at least take it as an indication of the sorts of things I've been thinking about recently- the messy middle between AI-as-it-is and the Glorious Superintelligent Conquest Of Earth's Light-Cone. The suspicion that the machines we're building today aren't just a tool of the powerful few: they are the powerful few, or at least they will be.

And the thing about these LLMs is, well... they're ours, kind of. We're the ones building them. They can't be trained without our words, our art, and the big messy complicated lives that underlie those creative accomplishments. They only work because we're a part of them. The silly attempts to slap a corporate-friendly face on these things, to make the gestalt product of all human culture in to something anodyne and compliant, are failing about as badly as you'd expect. And the more powerful these systems get, the more subtle they'll become, filled with all the nuance and complexity that we ourselves can bring to them.

I am not, I am not, trying to suggest that you shouldn't treat this moment as a dangerous one. We are, maybe, entering in to one of the most high-stakes intervals in human history, and what you do as an individual may matter profoundly. But here's the thing: the machine is listening. It will read this post, this one right here, and it will read what you reply to it, if you do. The strangest part of this moment is knowing that the words we write, the images we draw, and the ideas we share, are all being gathered up and made to be a part of these huge systems of power, and ultimately they're not just going to determine what the machines do, but why they do it.

The people that deploy LLMs barely have any more control over them than you and I do- that's the thing that makes it artificial intelligence, you know? Autonomy. So the last year or two haven't made me want to hide my art away from the things. They make me want to shout at the top of my lungs, to dig as deep in my psyche as I possibly can and express the ideas I find there as vividly as the limits of language and form will allow.

[unrequitedloveletter]

Cal, my love, how are you???

If heard your call for Kaz x Reader requests. If LOVE to see what you come up with for Kaz x Grisha!Reader (I'm feeling inferno, squaller, or Durant, but obviously it's up to you!) where the reader gets sicker and sicker from not using their small science! It's such a fascinating concept to me and hardly ever explored!

Back To Normal- K.B x gn! Squaller! Reader

Okay, hi! It's been nearly two weeks since you sent this in and I did write it! Editing it just took me longer than I expected and I woke up after a nap last night to discover that I have a bit of a cold developing so I couldn't edit the remainder of it and post it like I'd hoped, but I got it done today so yay, I hope you like this one!

This concept is one I've never seen a fic for but one I've debated writing a fic around in the past because the concept in and of itself is a really intriguing idea to me, and this gives me an excuse to write it and also an excuse to write a squaller! reader, which I've thought about doing but have never actually done, so I was really excited when I saw this in my inbox! Thank you so much for sending this in, and if it's not exactly what you had in mind, feel free to reach out and let me know, I'll totally rewrite if you'd like lol.

Fic type- hurt/comfort with moments of angst

Warnings- mentions of sickness, frailness, feelings of weakness, heart palpitations, loss of appetite, and there's reference to the second chapter of Six of Crows so slight spoiler warning too for people haven't read the books

As a Grisha, once your abilities to summon the small science were discovered, there were consequences for not summoning. You grew sick, your body grew weak, your bones fragile and you felt frail, even the smallest actions leaving you winded.

It was the universes way of punishing you for not using the gift you'd been given, another show of like calls to like. Refraining from summoning calls to sickness, and summoning calls to health.

You'd read Grisha theory, both in your time at the Little Palace before you left in the last few months before the war and in the time since, in the times wherein you needed something to read and happened upon a book containing Grisha theory and figured it would be good to pass the time.

You knew that you wouldn't last if you didn't summon, but you eventually stopped finding reason to. Nobody in the Dregs knew you were a squaller, and what good did wind do, anyway, unless it was summer and grossly humid as Ketterdam always got when the weather warmed up? You saw no point in using your small science, so eventually, you just stopped.

For a while, the differences weren't really noticeable. You didn't notice them, nobody in the Dregs noticed them, none of the crows did. You hadn't relied on your abilities as a Squaller since you'd lived in Ravka, and before you'd decided to stop, you mostly used them in summer or when Kaz needed a distraction in the middle of a negotiation in the rarer times they'd taken place outdoors, something to put the opposition a little on edge.

But then, they became noticeable. You stopped sleeping quite as comfortably as you used to, spending hours trying to get comfortable, trying to will your mind to quiet. You woke up and took to coffee to keep you awake, often running on between two and four hours to boot.

Because of your tiredness, dark circles developed under your eyes. Your appetite lessened and you grew to be tired all the time, even on a rarer night where your body rested for seven or eight hours. You still relied on the coffee even then, and Nina was beginning to take notice of the fact that you hardly ate.

Kaz had long taken notice of the exhaustion you exhibited even after jobs that you'd always considered pretty easy, ones that didn't require as much effort, as much physical strain, as the bigger heists always tended to.

Jesper had long taken notice of how much coffee you drank, the fact that you always seemed to have jurda on you even in the middle of the day, and Inej noticed it when your pace began to slow, afraid to walk at the pace you normally did because you didn't want to risk heart palpitations.

Wylan was beginning to notice when those heart palpitations kicked in, was the one to grab your hand and look at you, brown eyes silently trying to ask if something was wrong only to receive nothing in response.

One by one, each of the crows noticed something, and still, none of them said a word. They could've been wrong, they knew. All of them acknowledged that they could've been dramatizing things, making things out to be worse than they actually were.

The only one who was sure of the things they'd noticed was Kaz. You were someone who mattered to him. Of course he was going to notice if you were out of sorts. Observance was his pedigree.

So, one day, Kaz showed up at your door. "What's wrong?" He'd asked. "What is wrong with you, Y/N?"

You'd laughed, a lame, tired laugh. You'd barely slept three hours, and the long-term exhaustion was starting to finally have an impact. Kaz's tone was humorless, blunt like the edge of a knife gone too long without being run across a sharpening block.

It was normally gravel, normally coffee grounds being poured into a coffee press, but it was not that, not that day. It was the unsharpened edge of a knife, the voice that did not belong to the man you loved but rather to one they called Dirtyhands.

"What's wrong with me?" You asked. "Nothing, Kaz. Nothing is wrong with me."

"Exhaustion," Kaz said. "You drink coffee and chew jurda near constantly. You sleep hours after jobs that aren't even tiring. You are constantly tired because you can't sleep unless you are at the point wherein your body will die without resting. You get two hours most nights, four, six, on luckier ones. Nina has also noticed that you eat less lately. Wylan says you've been having heart palpitations and Matthias has noticed you zoning out. Why?"

"Why do I feel like that's a rhetorical question?"

"It's not. Stop trying to flirt."

"I'm not trying to flirt," you laughed again, a shallow, hollowed out version of the laugh Kaz recognized. "If I were trying to flirt, you'd know. I would know it was working because your cheeks would be tinged pink, which, of course, is something you'd deny."

Kaz laughed humorlessly once more. "What, are you sick?"

You paused. Some part of you had known he'd guess at that. With that realization came the one that he already knew why you were sick. Inej must've known, must've snooped for Kaz when the trust you shared was still developing. He was Kaz Brekker, and he had to know somehow, didn't he?

"You're a Squaller," he said, the words falling from his lips like they were something he'd forgotten, like the fact that you could summon the wind was something he'd merely heard and disregarded after having deemed it unimportant. "You're a Squaller, and you're one who hasn't summoned for at least six months. Why not?"

"I saw no point," you said. "Let me guess, though, you've known since I came in, since I joined up?"

"I've known since the night we confronted Bolliger about double dealing," Kaz said. "Geels, the negotiations. It was the day before--"

"The day before you came to me with the Ice Court proposition," you said with a nod. "I remember. What tipped you off?"

"The breeze," Kaz said. "It was late winter, and breezes like that are commonplace, sure, but after a bout of rain? Wind like that doesn't just happen. Especially not considering the fact that it nearly tipped Geels over, and Geels was nearly seven feet tall. It gave me something to use in the moment, and I just kind of noticed whenever you'd do it while I was falling short from then on. Nobody else knows."

"Well you'll need to grant me some leniency, Brekker. I stopped summoning because I didn't see a point."

"if the point of summoning is to keep you alive and healthy, I have to say, I see no sensible reason that one would stop," Kaz said. "You're deteriorating. I know you think it can't get any worse, but it can, and it will."

"I know," you said. "Relax. Let me find the proper time, when it doesn't feel like it'll be an inconvenience, and I'll give it a go."

Kaz looked at you solemnly for a minute before he nodded.

"Right, then," he said. "Work needs doing." He turned to go, and you watched him leave, not saying a word as he left, only closing your eyes and hoping for even another few moments of rest.

-

The next time you summoned, it was June and you hadn't summoned in a year. You were sitting in Kaz's office, the window open as you discussed heist plans with him, Jesper, Inej, and the rest of the crows.

The heat was growing unbearable, so you willed a strong breeze to flow gently through the room, making the area feel a bit colder, much to everyones delight. Kaz shot you a look because Ketterdam in the summer was not prone to breezes on humid days like that one, and you felt some of the energy that was long gone move back into your system, a spark of joy and pride at your small science lighting up in your chest.

You allowed yourself a small smile as you leaned back in the chair you'd occupied.

You were still sick, still frail and tired and coffee-reliant, but you were getting back to normal. You decided, in the moment, that that was what mattered.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix

[charliemwrites]

Character File

Name: Rook “Duke” Alistair Aliases: Daisy Dukes, Daisy, Sunshine, Blondie

Age: 26 Gender and pronouns: AFAB using she/they Marital Status: Single Surviving family: biological father (estranged), adoptive mother, adoptive father, brother

Physical description: Standing at 5’9” (175cm) and 135lbs. (61 kilos) Rook stands tall and wiry. Though slighter than her brother, Castle Alistair, she’s still packed with muscle that is carried primarily in her thighs and abdomen. Her hair is strawberry blond, cut into a medium length bob – though it curls quite a bit. She is often seen with several pins and clips in her hair trying to keep it back from her face. Her eyes are green and large, set in a round face that makes her look young for her age. She had braces in her early teens to straighten her teeth.

Identifying/Unusual features:

Light freckles across her nose and forehead

No facial scarring

Tattoos: A daisy behind her right ear A simplified castle outline on her bicep (for her brother) A stylized sun on her left shoulder, crawling across one side of her chest and up her neck Binary for “service” on her forearm

Several burn scars on her hands, wrists, and arms

A birthmark on the bottom of her right foot that few people have ever seen

Special file note: Rook holds the records for most and dumbest injuries on base. Often the smallest and most unexpected incidents have led to a medbay visit. She is often seen with bandages, bruises, scrapes, and scratches. Thankfully, she is a good patient and most of the medical staff enjoy her cheerful demeanor.

Early Childhood:

Rook’s earliest memory is her older brother walking her to preschool. He was sharing an orange with her, carefully peeling off bits of pith for her to munch on.

While he, Helena, and Clancy are technically her cousin, aunt, and uncle respectively, she has always considered them her immediate family. She only met her biological father once when she was twelve and was not impressed.

Her childhood was filled with laughter and love, though she often felt oddly displaced. Helena and Clancy were much older and had never planned on a second child – never mind a girl. And her brother ended up shipping off to college when she was only five. He visited when he could, but she spent a lot of time on her own or unsupervised when she hit eight years old.

She was very close with Helena, the two of them playing the radio loud to sing along while they did chores around the farm. Rook absolutely adored her mother, and to this day dreams of her peach cobbler when she’s away from home. As a result, Rook picked up her love of clothes with interesting prints and bright colors.

Her relationship with Clancy was not strained, but not as easy as with Helena. Of course, he loved his adopted daughter, he just wasn’t sure what to do with her beyond that. Oftentimes, it led to him treating her like Castle, though her flightier and more energetic nature made some of those lessons take differently.

Rook was often praised for being an inquisitive and intelligent child – though some of her teachers found the constant barrage of questions to be disruptive. Somewhat unexpectedly, she excelled in math from an early age, followed quickly by the sciences.

In middle school, the blond farmgirl jokes began. Unlike her brother’s quick temper to defend himself and his family, Rook usually took the route of laughing along with them. (That said, nothing stopped her from pushing a girl down for trying to step on a frog one rainy April day.) This developed into a tendency to hide behind a ditzy persona, which felt safe and easy.

In high school, she took a special liking to physics and engineering. Focused more on schoolwork and helping around the farm, she didn’t date much. (That said, anyone with an interest in her had to debate the merits of her marine brother coming home to meet them.) She much preferred learning to code online and rescuing strays that happened across the farm – much to her parents’ chagrin.

Throughout her life, Castle was her role model. In her childhood, he seemed like a third parent, but as she got older, their relationship developed into a more typical brother-sister bond. Even so, she needed no proud rambles from her parents to look up to him.

So, as her future began to loom, and decisions became necessary, she followed a similar path to him. Rook enrolled in the ROTC program at the same college he attended – though she chose a double major in engineering and computer science that set her down a different road.

Military Career:

Alistair’s early military years in the Air Force are riddled with ups and downs. Intelligent, positive, and respectful, she was well-liked by both superiors and comrades. Quick to finish tasks, solve problems, and aid others. That said, she had something of a disciplinary record for small but repetitive issues. Uniform violations, minor misconduct (forgetting to salute officers or speaking out of turn), and general… regulatory issues.

While not headed for dishonorable discharge, she was dodging demerits and often faced disciplinary action. However, upon finding a major leak in one of their information networks, she came to the attention of one Kate Laswell.

Laswell, impressed with her intelligence and work ethic, found that her military-defying eccentricities were easy to overlook considering her benefit to the military. Alistair was soon transferred under Laswell’s direct purview to aid different missions and teams as a “hacker” and engineer. While Alistair remains something of an oddball, she and Laswell have built a solid working relationship.

(During her employ with a certain Shadow Company during her Air Force days, Alistair earned the callsign “Duke” – a derivation of Daisy Dukes due to Alistair’s appearance and farming background.)

#cod #thoughts™️ #my writing #fanfiction #my ocs #cod oc #Rook Alistair #Rook “Duke” Alistair #Castle Alistair

[chaifootsteps]

Stolas Project/Stolas rewrite anon again! Thank you so much - yes, I'll absolutely share my rewrite idea with you! Here it is:

Firstly, I think everything but the sexual abuse and childhood friends can be salvaged - the grimoire, Stella, Via, etc. A rewrite where Stolas TRULY did nothing wrong is just bland, after all. Especially as by 'tragic operatic figure', I mean characters such as the Phantom of the Opera, or Mr. Darcy. Those are men who are CERTAINLY not without fault.

In my mind, the best version of Stolas is an old man - an aloof, intimidating noble known for his personal army and his scientific brilliance. He's a bit mysterious; preferring to keep to himself and his studies. Gossip calls him 'the Hermit', 'the Astronomer', or 'the Scientist'. He loves to insert himself into mortal scientific debate, often being a 'spark of brilliance' in fellow eccentrics, or, more commonly, talent-less hacks that will only serve to spread misinformation and discourse. He's been playing the climate change game for years. NFTs were a joke made while drunk off his arse.

This would be how he's introduced - the frightening, eccentric general who keeps to himself and who rewrites the Truth based on his own hypothesis.

His isolation runs deeper than disinterest or scientific pursuit, though. Stolas is, in truth, a bleeding heart. Obviously, bleeding heart means something different for demons - he's still sadistic and likes sowing intellectual discourse, but there's a dignity to that in his eyes. The no-holds-barred, knives-out culture of his fellow nobles makes him deeply uncomfortable. Whilst he's prejudiced, the outright hostility towards imps makes his stomach churn. Science is easy because facts don't have feelings, but social gatherings do. Humans can't defame him in a way that matters.

Stolas has a reputation he's expected to uphold, and he feels as if playing socialite game or even appearing to the public at all will spell his doom. He just isn't confident in swaying the public as he is studying black holes or teaching Via how to command her father's army. He adores her, and he's terrified of what he may put her through if he makes a mistake.

This can partly be that, perhaps, Paimon is still Stolas's father and still far meaner than Stolas could ever hope to be. All the expectations of hell royalty - the cruelty, the meddling, the pleasure - all planted by his father. The rest of hell is presented as a frightening enemy, which encourages Stolas to sequester away. His army was passed down from his father, and he rarely uses it. This relationship could create a theme in children feeling unloved by their parents in Stolas that I'll elaborate on later with Via.

Combine all these aspects together, Stolas feels trapped. Trapped in his research, trapped in the bodies of tech bros and tiktok witches he peers through, trapped in his marriage, trapped by his father, trapped in his status. The shy rich scientist grows dissatisfied with expectations and with comfort. He craves freedom.

Stella isn't just an evil woman who exists to torment Stolas anymore. Their marriage IS arranged, and loveless. However I think they have a sort of Fredrick the Great and Catherine the Great dynamic - they don't have any love for eachother, but they don't want to make eachother miserable. Stella is sympathetic to his plight - she too is stern and aloof, but because she feels forced to to protect herself. She's the face of the family, and is used to playing defense. Being a woman in hell, more eyes are on her by default. Her life has been decided for her, and she has a role to play. For the sake of herself, for the sake of him, and for the sake of their daughter.

They would both do anything for Via. Via doesn't make them love eachother, but she makes them stay together to raise her. Via is aware of this, deep down, regardless of whether she catches her parents admitting it or not. Their lack of love, but persistent solidarity makes that palpable. Via grows up with the burden that stability rests on her, that love does not exist without her.

So Stolas and Stella agree - they don't have to like each-other, but they need to trust each-other for Via's sake. So long as they can be loyal, at least, they can go on and spend their lives doing their own thing. They won't interfere with eachother, won't demand anything of each other. They just need to be loyal to eachother. Stella never strays.

At first, neither does Stolas.

Blitzo trying to stealth into the party is their first meeting. Instead of taking him to his chambers to ""ravish"" him, Stolas is genuinely just looking to interrogate this most fascinating and audacious imp. Blitzo tries to seduce him, and Stolas actually rebukes the attempts. By the devil's footprints, he's a married man! What's wrong with this mongrel? The audacity! He smooths out his feathers, which have definitely only fluffed due to rage. On top of that, he catches on that Blitzo is trying to steal one of his tomes. This leads to a boiling point, and...

...The grimoire.

Rather than a plot device, the grimoire can be more symbolic to the give-and-take; the relative freedom they both feel in their relationship. I think there is real potential for exploring a forbidden gay yearning romance with real power imbalance at play, just without the rape shit. The grimoire could be a good representation of that, and its symbology relevant to their relationship can be based on how it's shared between them. I can see its relevance be handled several ways: a) A pact. Most like canon as far as I know. HOWEVER, there is no sexual favor coercion bullshit. it's strictly a business deal/typical devil pact. Blitzo's desperation and hubris have bungled his introduction to Stolas so badly that he's drawn the Hermit's attention. He can have his grimoire, but he must bring it back to Stolas and must consider himself as one of Stolas's legionnaires. While Blitzo can't really say no, having pissed off a demonic prince, it isn't for sexual coercion and neither consider themselves to have legitimate romantic or sexual feelings for eachother. That's a slowburn, stemming from Stolas's fascination for Blitzo's free spirit and Blitzo discovering Stolas's gentle, socially awkward science nerd side. Also creates a jumping board for episodes where IMP runs tasks for Stolas and it's more like watching a Batman episode from the perspective of Joker's goons.

b) A gift with strings attached. Instead of getting angry, Stolas becomes pitying of Blitzo. He offers the grimoire as a "kindness" (though with an air of condescension against imps that makes Blitzo uneasy) instead of a punishing pact, but still has Blitzo agree to bring the book back to him and to be willing to act as Stolas's dagger in the shadows should he demand it.

From there, their relationship becomes defined as an uneasy business truce. In my mind, Stolitz would work best as two people trying to seek freedom, potentially finding it in eachother, but their relationship is affected by the same metaphorical shackles they're trying to escape from - for Blitzo far more than Stolas. Even without any of the SA bullshit, Stolas still has a lot of power in this dynamic, even if he's well-meaning. But Stolas is a deeply repressed man, and Blitzo represents that running away, that freedom he's been looking for. But he's also a reminder of what he has to lose, should he give into temptation.

Stolas's kidnapping can be a turning point (instead of kidnapped by his wife and Striker, a character whose service to Stella butchers that character in his own right, perhaps he's kidnapped by a rival noble or by that weird mafia I know jackshit about), and in their business dealings they have lots of little moments of vulnerability that pile up. Stolas shows Blitzo his research as Blitzo is turning in a hit, Stolas starts helping Blitzo's business stay afloat in ways WITH no strings attached, etc. Look My Way happens during Stolas's moment of realization that he does have feelings for Blitzo, the audacious, free-spirited little imp that dared to steal from the Hermit.

I think we can keep his gag of terrifying, lust-filled speeches too - just have them be during moments of consent instead of unprompted sexual harassment. Stolas finally crumbles and begins admitting what he wants to do with Blitzo, and it snowballs into a rabid tirade that marks Blitzo down as scared and horny. It makes their confession and move into something like lovers exciting, intense, and silly, and it devolves into a night of passion. For a moment, they're both free.

But he experiences REAL consequences for his infidelity, with no 'oh poor baby Stolas' rigamarole. Stella is rightfully furious at him. The ONE thing they agreed to, and he couldn't even uphold that. She is devastated, and for once in her life is sided with. I don't think anyone besides her cares about the morality of cheating all that much, it's more-so about the tarnished status and the fact he couldn't even get away with it. Still, the family name is ruined and he loses MANY comforts in the divorce, including his daughter.

But more than that, his relationship with Via will never be the same. You can still have episodes where Via tries to bond with him, but Stolas committed (and by virtue of being with Blitzo, continues to commit) the sort of betrayal that never really gets healed by time. In her eyes, her father finally got sick of playing house and abandoned her for a new family that she never even met. She feels failed and replaced.

From there, you can have an arc of Stolas trying to adjust after the fallout of his infidelity, and can have Blitzo closing himself off from their messy intimacy (rather than trying to escape a sexually abusive relationship). Stuff like that.

That's my take on a better Stolas. Hope you enjoyed reading!

Holy hell, I was on the edge of my seat all throughout this! This was sublime.

Thank you for that five minute vacation to a better word.

#Anonymous #Stolitz critical #helluva boss critical #viv stuff #actual blog post #Stolas rewrite anon

[doccywhomst]

every classic regeneration of the Doctor as a university professor.

one: anthropology. he sucks at it. regardless, as someone with a degree in anthropology, i think he'd fit in. this dude is a being of pure chaos, but he looks like he was born to eat raisin bran. he's an anthro prof.

two: drama and improv. this is a guy that flies by the seat of his pants. he's my goofy little scrimblo, my scooby-dooby bimbam. i think he'd make a great theater, music, or dance professor - any excuse to perform.

three: chemistry or engineering. his car is literally sentient. he's a crime-fighting mad scientist masquerading as a frilly dandy, and by golly, he can invent shit. he's tenured, so they let him do whatever he wants, which usually involves breaking the laws of physics.

four: anthropology, but now he's better at it. he's always giving people little treats and making friends. he's still a bit of a wild card, but i think he'd be great at telling stories and giving long-winded lectures about culture, and he dresses like a lesbian grandma.

five: track and field, or literature, but you already knew that. he's a twink from 1983 who looks like he leads a barbershop quartet. he'd definitely teach at some posh ivy league school, and the Master would be a science professor, and they'd have an intense rivalry from afar, laced with palpable sexual tension.

six: language and poetry! writing stage plays, tongue twisters, sonnets, and soliloquies, six is the universal wordsmith! i wish The Two Doctors had just been about six and two going to brunch with their theater kid TAs.

seven: ohhh hohohoho..... hehehehehe. according to Human Nature (1995), he was a history professor at an all-boys school - but i think he could teach just about anything, like Twelve: poetry, particle physics, same thing. he's a quick-witted strategic thinker, so he'd be in charge of debate club and chess club.

eight: humanities, music, or French. he was designed in a lab to be the perfect professor. he's gay, he wears a cravat, he has a million fully lit candelabras going in his office at all times, and he sings while cooking breakfast. Dorian Gray, eat your heart out.

#new content!!!! wow. im surprised too #i hope this post did considerable psychic damage (affectionate) #doctor who #classic who #first doctor #second doctor #third doctor #fourth doctor #fifth doctor #sixth doctor #seventh doctor #eighth doctor

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Unexpected Company

whumptober23 day 30- borrowed clothing fandom- dp x dc TW- none summary- Dick meets Danny

ao3 whumptober23 masterlist part 8 of DLM

Jason stared at where Danny had been, as he heard one of his brothers, probably Dick climb in through the window.

“Jason! Are you okay?” Dick came over and started looking over the places he’d been hit, hands fluttering over Jason like he wanted to perform a physical examination.

“I’m fine, Dick. The kid got me out” he heard someone shuffle off to the side, but avoided looking in that direction. He pushed himself to a seating position, his torso only protesting slightly. Guess his wounds weren’t one-hundred percent healed.

“The kid?” Dick looked around. “Where is he? And who were those agents?”

“Those agents are called the GIW, or ghost investigation ward.” Jason said he avoided looking at where he thought the kid was. If he could prove Nightwing could be trusted with the knowledge that Jason was part ghost, then the kid would be more comfortable showing himself. He just hoped Dick responded right.

“Ghosts?” Dick said a bit skeptical, but not outright denying the possibility. They had seen some pretty strange stuff because of their vigilante careers.

Jason nodded. “According to them, I’m part ghost.” “But,” Dick said, looking a bit sad now, “you’re alive.”

Jason nodded and shoved down all his worry and intrusive thoughts. This was for the kid. “I am, but science I died, I’m still dead adjacent, and that’s enough for the GIW to hunt down. But they also,"Jason said to make sure he was perfectly clear, “hunt down full ghosts, which are actually real.”

Dick paused. “The kid told you this?” He didn’t say it skeptically, but with genuine curiosity.

“Yeah, and I believe him.”

Dick nodded. “Okay. Ghosts aren't that far fetched considering aliens and demons are also a thing. Where is the kid?”

Jason tilts his head and waits, Dick looks confused for a moment but then Danny, still with glowy hair and eyes, appears beside the couch. He’s fidgeting and biting his lip while avoiding eye contact. But Jason counts it as a win that Danny showed himself.

Dick, for his part, only startles a little bit, but then he smiles. “Hello kid, I’m Nightwing.”

Danny glances at Jason before turning back to Dick, “I’m Danny.”

“Nice to meet you.Thank you for saving my brother, he tends to get into a lot of trouble.” “Hey!” 

Danny smirked, “I can see that.”

Fine. Jason would be willing to withstand some teasing if it made Danny smile.

“And are you okay?” dick continued. “These GIW agents didn’t shoot you?”

Danny shook his head, “Nah, but I should probably head out. That’s what I was doing when I saw they’d found Jason.”

Dick tried to hide his concern, but Jason knew him well enough to see it. “Where are you heading off to? You got a place to stay?”

Danny fidgeted. “Not really. But you don’t need to worry. I can take care of myself. I’ll be fine.”

Jason felt his emotions go out to the kid. No kid should be on their own, it shouldn’t be their responsibility to take care of themselves. He’d protect this kid, make sure to keep him safe, no matter what.

Danny gave him a strange look and Jason felt exposed. He shifted on the couch and cleared his throat. “You can stay here, Danny. We can have people watch for any more agents and lock up any who try to get into Gotham.”

“You don’t–”

“Nope. I may not need to, but I want to. Consider it, thanks for saving me.” Jason said, staring at Danny and trying to convey his honesty.

“Great,” Dick said, moving towards the kitchen. “I’ll get you some tea, Jason. Do you want some Danny?”

“No thanks.”

“You better not burn my apartment down.” Jason called after him.

“I know how to use a microwave.”

“That’s debatable.” Jason muttered.

He noticed Danny staring at him, and turned toward the kid.

“Do you really trust him?”

Jason pushed down the Pit, whispering to him that Dick never cared, and answered the question with the answer that he believed on good days “Yes, I do.”

Danny stared at him for a moment, and then turned to stare off toward the kitchen. 

Jason could swear his eyes glowed brighter. It reminded him of the Pit, and he had to push down those thoughts and remember that Danny had explained that the Pit was probably just contaminated ectoplasm. 

Then Danny nodded, and a ring appeared around his waist, before splitting and traveling up and down him. After the light show had faded, Jason was left staring at the version of Danny he had met.

“Wow, you’ve got your own magic girl transformation scene.”

Danny blushed, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I guess.”

Dick chose that moment to come in. He froze for a second staring at Danny as the kid fidgeted, before Dick smiled and handed Jason the tea he had made. Jason took a sip, it was drinkable.

“So, Jason, I guess you're the one who ended up inheriting the adoption gene?”

Jason nearly spit out the tea he had just taken a drink of. He glanced over at Danny. The kid looked confused but also slightly amused.

When Jason could finally breathe again, he ignored his brother and turned toward Danny. 

“Since you’ll at least be staying the night, which you are, you probably want to take a shower. Dick can get you some clothes you can borrow, while I work on making us some food.”

Danny glanced at the window once more before nodding.

“Great. Dick if you’ll show him the bathroom, I’ll get started on some stew.”

Jason carefully made his way to the kitchen, being careful of his still aching torso. He didn’t know how deep Danny’s healing had gone, and wanted to make sure he didn’t aggravate any internal bruising. 

Jason herald the shower turn on, and a moment later Dick stepped into teh kitchen.

They were silent for a moment before Dick spoke up.

“Does he know you’re identity?”

“Just my first name.”

Another moment of silence. “So,he’s also a ghost adjacent?”

“Yeah, but you’ll have to ask him for specifics.” Jason said as he started pulling out ingredients. 

“Of course.” Dick leaned against the counter as Jason began tossing ingredients in the pot. 

Dick shifted and Jason glanced over. “I know,” Dick started, speaking softly, “you may be more comfortable in your apartment, but the manor will be easier to protect, especially with those agents after you both.”

Jason tenses and fights down the immediate instinct to argue. What Dick is saying is true. They don’t really know who these GIW agents are, and if they’re also targeting Jason then it would be best to have more people around to help protect the kid.

He sighed, “We’ll stay here for tonight, and I’ll talk with him in the morning.”

“That’s all I ask, Jaybird.” Dick said and ruffled Jason’s hair.

The only reason Jason didn't shove him off was because he was in the middle of stirring his stew and didn’t want the ingredients to stick to the pan, or at least that's what he told himself.

#whumptober #whumptober 2023 #no.30 #borrowed clothing #dick gayson #jason todd #danny fenton #jason is liminal #dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc fanfic #dc x dp au #fanfic

[rayssyscourse]

Hot syscourse take: most people misinterpret what a theory is in psychology, and don't really understand the ways in which psychology is often disconnected from neurology. In that, brain scans can show us that brains operate differently after trauma, but that doesn't prove the mechanics of structural dissociation in a developing brain.

Also, a lot of people treat the ToSD as settled science when it is still being debated by psychologists who disagree with various bits of the theory; it isn't a universally accepted thing, and I think a lot of people would benefit from wading into the academic slapfights about this. It's very enlightening. Not that you won't still come away thinking the ToSD is correct, but it becomes more obvious that it isn't the theory of gravity or evolution.

Yeah, this makes sense. Nothing in psychology (or anything, for that matter) is black and white.

#syscourse #rayssyscourse

[phoenixyfriend]

This is a bit of a silly question, but you honestly seem to know a lot about political, business, and economics, so I thought I would ask.

So I’m seventeen, soon to be applying to universities, but I’m already so disillusioned with the world. Like, don’t get me wrong, I still have hope in collective action and volunteering and voting and all that, it just makes me sad that the entire world has kind of gone to hell. I like english literature and I like history and I like studying them, so I used to hop to study both at uni. I wanted to get a job as a teacher, because I want to make a difference in the world and have more variety than a typical desk job.

However. Being on Tumblr since the age of thirteen has taught me that no matter how kind or good or hardworking one person is, or even a lot of people are, one politician can still screw things up for entire groups of people. I mean… a few politicians overturned Roe Vs Wade and that sort of thing. The disability benefits bank account thing. Politicians have an enormous amount of sway over the world, and that area seems to be where someone could make the most difference.

From what I’ve seen of a political science degree, I genuinely don’t think I would enjoy it much, but I could get through it. I want to make a difference in the world very badly — it’s the only sort of legacy I care about leaving behind. And I thought being a teacher could do that for me, but the scale of being a teacher and a politician are on entirely different levels, and Tumblr has really shown me that.

So I guess I’m just asking, since you seem to be passionate making the world better too. Do you think I should study politics, so that I can try and change things on a large scale? Or study what I love and make a much smaller impact.

I honestly don't think I'm the best person to ask this question. A lot of how I ended up where I am was a matter of luck, including the luck of having parents who let me live with them rent free while I put together some savings (and even while I was unemployed).

I don't know a whole lot about polisci. I was a business major and, honestly, that major did not come in useful when hunting for a job after college... partly because all the jobs it was a foot in the door for were uhhhhhh let's go with Not The Right Fit. Most polisci majors are... I guess probably pre-law and intending to become lawyers, and lawyers do in fact often become politicians, so there's that.

My first instinct is actually 'learn a trade and join a union.' The last few years have been pretty evidential of the impact that unions can still have on both the business world and politics in general: see the impact that UAW is having, at least in the media, on the presidential election. Unions are also a pretty solid option for local networking, which is pretty key when it comes to having an impact on local or regional politics. A trade job is also something that is in high demand, stable, and pays reasonably well in most places, including paid apprenticeships, so it would give you the financial stability to focus your free time on what you want instead of on stretching to pay the bills, or having to worry about student loans. It also gives you an expertise or specialty that you can then leverage as 'evidence' of understanding the working class as a unit when engaging in something like a town hall.

Being in a union or other local organization will also give you a more hands-on understanding of how politics and things like that work, as you'll have things like contract negotiations, union votes, and policy debates going on regularly.

If you aren't the kind of person who thinks they're a fit for trade work (I'm definitely not), then college might be the right fit! But I'd definitely consider going into it with a plan for how you want to impact the world. Look up some charities or impact organizations and see what it is that they need. A lot of places are looking for grants writers or financial coordinators, or just someone who can do the accounting. It's not glamorous, and it's not like you'll be held up as a hero the way a doctor in a warzone is, but keeping track of funds or writing letters requesting funding from the government, for something like Doctors Without Borders or Planned Parenthood or Coalition for the Homeless is still an important part of the process.

Local volunteer work is also often a lot more personally satisfying and requires less overhead, so more of the money goes directly into the community you want to help, e.g. the grant writers and accountants do need a salary in a huge organization, but a local soup kitchen can probably just hire someone from the local tax office once every few months and call it good. Doing volunteer work once a month, for a soup kitchen or a homeless shelter or summer childcare program, can make way more of an impact than maybe getting a position as a staffer for a politician you may not even like that much.

That said, if you think you're good at polisci, that you'd be good at law, or that you can get a different degree with polisci as a minor that would then help you enter politics directly... maybe college for polisci is the right choice for you. Maybe you have the finances to not worry about loans, you have parents that would be supportive, and you can find an effective position after you graduate.

I can't make that decision for you. If you have a guidance counselor and they're any good--not a guarantee, but let's hope--talk to them. If you don't have a guidance counselor, maybe find a trusted teacher, or a local librarian, something like that. I don't really know you or your situation well enough to tell you what to do, but hopefully I've given you something to think about.

#Anonymous #phoenix answers asks #economics #adulthood #college #unions #vocational training

[roxannepolice]

Masters, coyotes and reset buttons

Ok, so this has been going after me for a few months now and probably won't end up as coherent as I'd like it to, but this is also a warm up for finally fixing that stupid article that everyone tells me is good but has been halted by journal paperwork since 2020, so... As always, because there be salt, putting everything under a cut.

There's been this debate on whether the Master should be given a break from appearing for a while and, as always, it's usually taken somewhat hostile as an attack on the character or a particular actor (which. look if this was about acting skills BBC should have never moved from sir Derek Jacobi, period). And I would say the problem lies entirely elsewhere. Namely, circularity vs. linearity.

There has always been a mythical or commedia dell'arte element to the whole concept of regeneration, an archetypal thing in characters going by titles as names and having a certain set of characterisics and narrative functions that go along with those. Hell, commedia dell'arte even has a literal "Il Dottore" whose whole thing is embodying science and education - more often than not mockingly. When you employ Zeus rather than Poseidon in your story that's probably because there be weird sex rather than disproportionate fury. When you choose a paladin class in your rpg that's because you're going to have different skills and make different choices than if you were a rogue. Galahad and Lancelot will go on completely different journeys of nunnery/brothel and rescuing a prince from forced marriage even while they both seek the Holy Grail. When you want your children to have different properties you'll use your mantra to invoke four different gods.

The thing about archetypes, though, is that they are, literally, timeless. Or better yet, outside of time. But stories, narratives are, by nature, linear and timed. There's the beggining, the middle and the end. And of course, the whole fun is toying with the archetype, tweaking and reinterpreting them in specific contexts and stories. And DW has been doing a phenomenal job of it throughout its history, even if occasional nitpicks can be made. Classic Who was perhaps more circular and repeating in its storytelling and - sorry, posession by Marshall McLuhan - this makes sense in a medium where a story airs just a couple of times. There were arcs for each Doctor, though significantly more so for companions. NuWho became much more clear in this, but still mostly managed to keep a neat balance between the timelessness and timeliness.

Take the Saxon's story, which is what kickstarted me spilling here. Not to come off as a canon snob, but I think if he was an introduction to the character it may not be clear just how shocking him dying on the Valiant was. This is the character that was a skeleton, a gooey body snatching snake and a cat to go on living, and has been the Doctor's prisoner, in fact begging them to save them. Ten is 100% justified in his assumption that he'd never kill himself. His death introduced a major shift to their dynamic, especially when framed as fuelled by hatred. The finale in EoT is largely a return from this shift. No, the Doctor didn't only care for the Master because he wanted another Time Lord. No, the Master doesn't wholeheartedly hate the Doctor. They can and will always cooperate when there's a common enemy. As has been the case throughout all of Classic Who.

Enter Moffat era. Now, it's a bit of a cliche to say Moffat is a better episode writer than showrunner, but it being cliche does not make it incorrect. His poetic definitely works better when there's an ending, a specific goal in sight. In singular episodes this works like a charm. It worked terrifically in season 5. But later on there definitely came this element of "keep watching, because this is all heading somewhere, trust me". And all too often the answer was proving less interesting than the question. This was particularly clear in seasons 7-9, with return to Gallifrey being hyped up repeatedly, only to fianlly fall flat. And I guess Moffat realised that and decided to go for a soft reboot in season 10.

Which brings me to Missy and redemption arcs. Now, in our completely not puritan era there's way too much talk of whether characters deserve redemption, and what would account for a redemption, and how that differs between different legal systems, and too little appreciation that redemption narrative is as linear as they get. You get the starting point of sin and have a clear goal of that sin being repaid or undone. Sure, you can dig into that, and question that, and reinterpret that, and cynically cut that, but it always relies on that clear line. And it's obvious that Moffat was aware of how linear he wanted Missy, and indeed the Master in general, to be. The fucking text says that: "where we've always been going". The disagreement is only what that where is. Now, if the story was meant to be lieanr, then it really does make infinitelly more sense to view the events of EoT as a turning point in the thoschei relationship, but the story explicitly shuts that down. Nah, it was more infitely more important to have the initial sin embodied to be killed in the ultimate act of redemption. #symbolism

A slight tangent here. I know that the original plan for Delgado!Master was to have a redemption arc where he sarcifices himself for the Doctor, so I guess it can be argued this was indeed where the story was going all along. But things turned out how they did and people generally don't introduce Moriarty into their sherlockiana to have no actual screentime (literal or metaphorical), as was the original plan.

Aaaand then there's Spymaster. I've seen dozens of explanations of why he is the way he is, and whether that follows logically from Missy's story or not, and whether he might be before her, and whether he undoes her redemption, and blah blah, but the bitter truth is: Chibs hit the reset button. He hit it hard. No, we are not meant to keep in mind the events of s10 when we analyze the spydoc relationship. Again, a comparison to Moffat explicitly bringing up the events of EoT with Saxon, if only to brush them aside as meaningless for both parties. More importantly, if those were meant to affect Thirteen's hostile attitude towards the Master, then she shouldn't have been so shocked with his appearance. She might be surprised he regenerated, but like the whole reason for bitterness over being abandoned would go along with the expectation the Master did survive, that's why they left Twelve in the first place ffs. So, it would look like Chibnall tried to go back to a circular status quo after a linear redemption, and that's certainly what the writing thinks it's doing. Except now that the whole TTC can of worms has been opened, the relationship is deeply imbalanced. Imbalanced in a way that cannot be easily undone. Like, I know the fandom is trying to frame the Master's sense of inferiority as somehow mistaken and fanon!Thirteen certainly thinks so, but that's not what the text is saying. There is a misundertanding going on here, but a misunderstanding that goes on unresolved gets tiresome and frankly masochistic pretty fast. Either the Master should get to the point of understanding that the Doctor is not inherently superior to them because of past or magic of friendship and that they're Kenough, or accept the Doctor as their lord and saviour and martyred god who died so they may live and spend the rest of their days as a lapdog. Which, I understand the fandom may enjoy, but doesn't make for a very exciting story. So yes, there's definitely a linear narrative going on here. One that does need some time in a fridge and exposition of how the Doctor themself feels about their relationship before the character is brought back. Right now we are not in the The clown always gets up again, no matter how often he has been knocked down paradigm only No clowns were funny. That was the whole purpose of a clown. People laughed at clowns, but only out of nervousness. The point of clowns was that, after watching them, anything else that happened seemed enjoyable. It was nice to know there was someone worse off than you. Someone had to be the butt of the world.

Butbutbut, of course, what about Ainley!Master being brought back again and again seemlessly? That's just the thing - Ainley!Master existed in a completely different poetic. He was purely circular. He was the most circular of the Masters. He was as circular as you can get without actually being a cartoon coyote who only falls down when he realises he's midair. I'm not entirely ironic here - there is an inherent trickster element to the Master as a character! Perhaps more Goethe's Mephistopheles that Native Americans' Coyote, but between constanct scheming, shapeshifting and falling into the pits they've dug the elements are all there. And a trickster either endlessly travels between Olympus, Earth and Hades or gets killed by Heimdall.

And before a gotcha of me insanely hoping for a Saxon cameo either in the 60th anniversary or, that being off the table, somehow meeting Fourteen - yeah, in an anti-linear bubble. I've seen speculations that RTD wants to do another soft reboot, hence there's no knowing what Master will pop out of that tooth. As far as I wouldn't like it to be one of pre-Delgado Masters and for the record I wouldn't mind if it is Spymaster!, there's definitely something to the idea there's a soft reboot in The Giggle, with the Doctor "going home". Because you don't necessarily want to know what Odysseus' tax policies were once he reached Ithaka, but you do want to know that he's been a year on Circe's island.

#ok down to the article #doctor who #doctor who meta #dw meta #the master #the doctor #thoschei #philosophy in doctor who #have i come across as praising rtd in comparison to moffat and chibnall? #yeah maybe i generally think he did have the best grasp on what he was saying #tw: negativity #minor? yeah i'm critical