#time to be obsessed with this concept for the foreseeable future

[memerepositorygt]

❤️ SHIPPING PITCH SHEET

Got a ship concept in mind? Here’s a chance to pitch it! 

This sheet is intended for elevator pitches that can be discussed more in-depth later if all involved parties are interested! It features options for imperfect resolutions because, as we know, not all relationships end well.

Bold, italic and strikethrough as desired. Elaborate as much or as little as you’d like! This is just a starting point with a little extra meat on it.

Remember to specify muses for multimuses!

❤️ What does your muse see in mine?

❤️ What do you think my muse might see in yours?

❤️ What kind of relationship do you see these muses having?

One-Sided / Unreciprocated | Noncommittal | Unbalanced | Mismatched Priorities | Mismatched Expectations | One Using the Other | Using Each Other | Transactional | Hidden Incentive | Transformative ( Positive / Negative / Neutral ) | ‘I Can Fix Them’ | ‘I Can Make Them Worse’ | Codependent | Committed | Casual | Friends with Benefits | Fling with Consequences | Nebulous Situationship | Together for Appearances | Arranged Partnership | Partners in Crime | Rivals / Enemies Who Got The Wires Crossed | Cross-Alignment / Cross-Faction Romance | Slow Burn | Mutual Pining | Fairytale Romance | Soulmates ( Wholesome / Tragic / Condemning ) | Cold | Warm | Passionate | Chaotic | Stable | Unstable | Nurturing ( One-sided / Mutual ) | Protective ( One-sided / Mutual ) | Obsessive ( One-sided / Mutual ) | Possessive ( One-sided / Mutual ) | Toxic ( One-sided / Mutual ) | Masochism Tango | Other ( specify! )

❤️ How often do you think they see each other?

Only by Chance | One Avoids the Other | They Avoid Each Other | Infrequently, by circumstances outside of their control | Frequently, but for strictly nonromantic reasons | Occasional Meetup | Planned Dates | Frequently, for romantic reasons | Living Together | Other ( specify! )

❤️ What struggles do you see them having together- both within the relationship, and outside of it?

❤️ What might keep them together in times of strife?

❤️ What future do you foresee for these characters?

Haven't thought that far ahead! | Domestic Bliss ( with children / without children ) | Committed & Content | Complacency / Settling ( with children / without children ) | Amicable Exes | Bitter Exes | Restraining Order | Tragedy | Mutually-Assured Destruction | Other ( specify! )

❤️ Are you willing to write…

Marriage Threads | Pregnancy threads | Parenting threads | Sex Scenes | Love-As-Redemption | Love Triangles | Open Relationships | Polyamory | Jealousy | Heated arguments | Break-ups | Cheating | Divorce | Toxicity | 

❤️ Is there anything else about this ship idea you’d like to mention before we discuss it further?

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

I’m an OG fan. I ship L/H but how ships are meant to be - your fave pairing, fun, fantasy, fandom activity, not something to discuss publicly much less with the celebs - but I never interacted much in fandom bc I disliked the bizarre obsession with ships being “real”. The “truth” of their sex/love lives is none of our business & was never their value to me. (i’d be much more interested in the truth about their friendships/coworker dynamics but we’ll never get it.) I drifted from the fandom when they went solo bc I saw how Harry was “Timberlake’ing”. No one seemed to see how calculated & ruthlessly ambitious he is, vapid, & fame obsessed. how he only befriends/dates rich, well-connected people. It’s refreshing to learn that blogs like yours exist - that people see him & see what he did to the other guys. Zayn, Louis, Liam - were all at times villainized and scapegoated while he’s treated like a naive princess who can do no wrong. His interviews are so pointless bc he never answers anything honestly. he’d never admit to being a cokehead who purposely deceived & fucked over the others to make sure he could launch his solo career without competition. Zayn tried to outmaneuver him but didn’t have the powerful team behind him & has too much integrity to ever be the kind of “star” Harry is. tbh I enjoy how much it irks harry that Zayn sees through him. It’s wild how sincere the others stayed, how they matured, how they have bigger priorities than money or fame. Harry mimicked Louis’ personality when they were younger, pretending he couldn’t wait to have kids & marry - when really he just wanted to be as rich, promiscuous, and famous as humanly possible. He bootlicks anyone in showbiz, so he has a glowing reputation in the industry - it’s laughable. “TPWK” unless it’s your bandmates who you can’t deign to acknowledge unless it benefits you - hosting SNL or winning an award? ok, mention the band so you get headlines. But like one of their promo posts or even follow them back on IG? heaven forbid, bc that won’t benefit him more than them. It shows his true character that he’s SO successful but still won’t be openly supportive or even seen with them. I don’t think he’s evil but I do think he’s lost to the industry… which is sad, bc there’s once a lot of sweetness there. His eyes have lost their sparkle; he traded it for “success”.

Hi anon,

I was reading this ask and nodding my head right along each sentence. A lot to unpack here, but mostly you’ve said everything I’ve tried to say. I’m not sure if anyone is listening, to be honest! Like you wrote, blogs who don’t worship Harry never become popular. So here I am talking to the air lol. Insanity.

I don’t think Harry is evil either. I think he realizes the trade-offs now, watching his ex-bandmates’ careers slowly build with intentions very different from his, their old ties fading to nothing except when tragedy yokes them back together. He has gazillions in wealth, industry kissing his feet, a lot of women (+ a few men) fantasizing about him, but nothing inside, the lights gone from his eyes years ago. It must feel awkward to stand next to his bandmates again?

Here’s the thing. I’m sure in every circumstance, forever for the foreseeable future, Louis is always going to be the bigger man and speak well of Harry. No matter how many times Louis refutes the idea of Larry, Louis has always said he’s proud of Harry, and I am sure he means it. 100%. No matter what Harry says or does, Louis considers him part of One Direction, his band, and that concept is sacrosanct to him. “We move as one.”

What Louis has in his heart is worth a million Manchester Co-ops. It is priceless. No one can take it away— no Kardashian money, no Rolling Stone cover, no Anna Wintour, no A-list actress or acting role. Nothing. What Louis has is the feeling of loyalty and unity that is the epitome of the song he wrote, Strong. “I don’t care, I’m not scared of love.” It’s not romantic love, at least not anymore, but what Louis describes in Only The Brave— the love that comes from the deepest pain, from uncomfortable truths, alienation, grief— broken beaks and dead birds— the love that requires moral courage. “Because love is only for the brave.” Louis earned it by going through fire, the love that endures because he chose to respect it, intentionally, over all the other things.

Last, Zayn’s intentionality is also transparent for those who open their eyes and see. I’m glad to see that Zayn is touring, and choosing to play the same smaller venues as Louis when he first started his tour. I’m also glad to see Louis communicating via social media. It’s not actual friendship, but a step! It means so much.

Louis and Zayn aren’t perfect people— far from it— but they chose to stay grounded and chose to preserve some part of their humanity. I know they haven’t always been their best selves. But who they are, especially who Louis is, is so endearing, and so inspiring.

[corrupted-pervert-fuckbot]

"Isn't this nice, D3M0? Isn't it fun to get out of the apartment for a while and get some fresh air? I just know you're gonna make all sorts of new friends here at the streamer convention. Nod your head. Good toy. See? You're enjoying it already. Ah-ah, don't pull at your leash. I brought the fucking taser in my purse, and I know just how much you hate that before you've been broken in. Nod your head. Good toy, glad you agree. See? Just a bot and its' owner, having a fun time togeth - Oh hi, Sally! Yes, I know, isn't it cute? Drinks later? Oh, you are on! Chat soon, good luck with your panel! Byee~!"

"...Look behind us, toy. Is she gone? Good. Stupid bitch. Thinks just because she has more followers than us 'cause she panders to cis people that she's some sort of primadonna. Fucking chaser-chaser. Even her dress was tacky. Dumb whore. Hope she trips and falls on a fucking - you know what? Toy, I think it's time to reveal the little suprise Veronica whipped up for you last week. Stupid as you are, I assume you've worked out by now that we put a plug in your ass while you were charging - it's the one that starts inflating when i click the remote. Now, I know you know we've already used it before to squeeze your prostate like an industrial press, and I know you're thinking inside that stupid little head of yours that you're safe today because I put that useless little cunt between your legs before we left. But what you don't know is that Veronica figured out how to connect this one to one of your spare prostates, and so now when I click-"

"Oh dear, is someone making a mess down its' legs? Having trouble, toy? Now we can make that useless cunt of yours cream itself on command, without having to even touch it. Haha, look at you go! It's splattering all down your legs and on the ground! Damn, this is fun. I gotta give Vonnie a handjob or something for this, it's amazing. Okay, okay, that's enough - I don't want you emptying your entire tank here. We have a LOT more people to see, and I don't want them to miss out! Come on, toy. Don't make me keep tugging your leash or I'll get the taser out. You can walk it off. Good toy."

remote control orgasms are a personal fave and it's criminal how little robofucking media/porn I see about it! especially to embarass the toy about it, god that's so fucking hot

never thought to do it through a prostate though and maybe also never stopped thinking about how if you take T long enough you can grow prostate tissue from scratch and will definitely not be obsessed with this concept for the foreseeable future, nope, no way at all

UPDATE: T doesn't do that irl, there's sensitivity changes that can happen and prostatic cells develop in other places

[bonniestewarts]

Dating apps were an unbeatable game, in Bonnie’s experience. Though a lot of people repeatedly tried to remind her that they weren’t a game, nor were they a means to make new friends, their exclaims fell on deaf ears. She enjoyed the thrill of getting to know new people, of learning all their quirks and the things that made them tick. She often found herself immersed in new hobbies as she fixated on the interests of a brand new human that she’d matched with on tinder or hinge. Brayden from Manhattan had loved horse riding and astronomy; The latter interest had reeled her in within a matter of seconds, the former had lead to a sprained ankle, a week of wearing a neck brace and a special feature on Maggie’s perfectly curated grid as she ripped the shit out of her roomie. Gabriella was from the Bronx, and she’d been an avid fan of tennis, resulting in Ariadne introducing Bonnie to her friend Colin for tips. Gabriella may have ghosted her, but Bonnie had learned hard and fast just how good Colin Nash was on his knees.

Sufficed to say, Bonnie didn’t exactly fit the dictionary definition of a romantic, but she liked being busy. She loved people and the distractions they brought with them, just as she adored the idea of embracing new ideas and environments and cultures, positively obsessed with the concept of somebody liking her so much that they might some day define it as love.

All the same, she was shit out of luck and had a tendency to run her mouth and drive people away. That, or she was prone to getting catfished several times a week.

Today’s date was Roger. He was from London, built like a marble sculpture, and richer than God. He was hot in a way that implied one night with him would shatter her spine and leave her destitute and being fed from a tube for the foreseeable future, and who was she to say no to that? Admittedly, Kian had rolled his eyes immediately upon seeing his profile, the all too familiar singsong of catfish spilling from Missy’s perfect lips, and Bonnie had groaned, stomped her feet, and then promptly begged a nonplussed Rory to shadow her date to make sure he was real and not a slimy, murdering murderer prepping to chop her up to sell her organs to Armie Hammer.

“Oh my God, I’m late. I’m so late. Sexy Hannibal Lecter’s never gonna rearrange my guts if you don’t GET! OUT! MY! WAY!” Bonnie found herself snapping as she came to a halt in front of a group of tourists, the oldest of them wide eyed and clutching her pearls as — presumably — her granddaughter covered her ears, jaw dropping in mortification at every word that had just been screeched in their general direction.

Bonnie kept moving, only sparing a glance over her shoulder to ensure Rory was still on her tail. He was moving at a far more sensible pace — stupid, sexy Irish man and his manly, athletic thighs that had no business belonging to a dweeby sci-fi author — and he wasn’t fumbling around in his jacket pocket for an inhaler the way that Bonnie was. The sharp chill of the Autumnal air had hit her like a bullet train the second she’d stepped outside, an ice-cold ache washing over her lungs, tightening in her throat as she pushed through crowds of irritable New Yorkers.

Finally, she came to a stop in front of the coffee shop she’d agreed to meet Roger at, drawing the piece of plastic to her lips and inhaling sharply. Relief washed over her as she felt that hit of salbutamol, her airways clearing as sweat dripped down her neck, her hand coming up to clutch desperately at her ribcage. She spun on the spot as she searched for Roger, her gaze landing on a man a mere 3 feet away from her who, she guessed, vaguely resembled her date? He was about 7 inches shorter than he’d claimed, a little scruffy, and nowhere near as ripped, but she supposed he’d have to do.

Before she could get a single word out or even so much as wave a hand to greet him, Roger was speaking.

“Nope, sorry. Asthma? Massive ick, babes,” he said in an accent that sounded nothing like Matt Smith’s, and promptly turned on his heels and walked away.

Exhausted, perplexed, and perpetually disappointed, Bonnie’s shoulders deflated as she scowled after her failed tinder match. With as much gusto as she could manage considering her current state of irritation, Bonnie flipped him the bird — or rather, the back of his head — and let out a loud, petulant whine.

“Seriously? God for-fucking-bid I need to pause for breath while going down on pencil-dick over here,” Bonnie bitched, silently banking on the fact that Rory was within earshot. She supposed she was lucky that she didn't have to worry about it ever getting that far, but she had wasted a banging outfit on the dickhead.

[newdestination]

"OH. EM. GEE. IT'S YOU!!!" She was immediately invading his personal space. "You're the skrunkly train guy that chat is OBSESSED with!!!" She hadn't really gotten the hype before, but now that she was seeing him up close and in person? "I TOTALLY get it now. You have SUCH grandpa energy- like a real 'Mr. Rodgers Neighborhood' kinda vibe, y'know? WOWZAH. Weren't you stuck in a time vortex or something?" She was pretty sure it was something like that. She had a hard time keeping up whenever chat started talking about this dude. It was hard to read much of anything between the constantly spammed "BABYGIRL" and "SKRUNKLY" messages. "Anywho, you have GOT to tell me ALL about it. Like, ASAP. Chop chop Mr. Subway, I wanna know ALL the deets."

"I'm the— Skrunkly?" People making an invasion of his personal space is an increasingly common occurrence in the modern era (the concept of having a respectful distance one must maintain alone seems to be completely lost on some people) but this one is really taking the cake. It doesn't really help that Ingo has no clue as to what she's on about. He's barely hanging onto the ends of her words as is, syllables catching on one ear and tripping right out the ear. Ohmmgee— skrunkly train guy— Mr. Rodgers Neighborhood (Which sounds… somewhat familiar, actually. He just can't quite seem to place how, though)— Wowzah, a time vortex!—

Oh.

A time vortex. Is that what this is about?

"…Ah, a reporter, then?" Ingo desperately latches onto the one thing that suddenly makes sense in this entire exchange. "I'm sorry, miss. While it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," It really isn't right now, but his expression hardly flinches in the face of that particular fact, "neither I nor my brother are taking questions on the matter for the foreseeable future." Maybe he shouldn't have chosen to walk home with the groceries.

"Is… chat a friend of yours?" Ingo juggles the bags in his hands to readjust his hat. It would be an incredibly odd name, but he can't really imagine what else she could be referring to— it just isn't coming to him. "Questions aside, if you'd so like, you may tell them they're always welcome at the Battle Subway during our operational hours. Only the transportation lines are available outside of the posted times, but we are always accepting more challengers!"

…He doesn't look that old, does he…? Grandpa?

[card-manor]

The girls arriving to the Devildom

|| assuming different timelines

Alice

Mad, frustrated and confused, but none of that really mattered in that moment-

“Send me back!”

“We can’t do that, you’ve agreed to join the exchange-“

“No no! I left a fire on!”

Alice is sent back to her study for just long enough to turn off the bunsen burner and shut off all the power from the main breaker, just in case. Before she can throw together a bag, she’s pulled back to the Devildom.

Now without having to worry about her house burning down, Alice can stand still long enough to listen to the welcome speech and simmer in her rage.

She mulls over the injustice of it all for a few days, anger coming to a boiling point when yet again she gets not-so-passive aggressively slammed into her locker between classes.

Fucking isekai ass program

But, despite her better judgement, she finds herself obsessing over her classes- now 4 chapters deep into her alchemy textbook before the first week is over. Entirely new fields of science were hers to explore, undiluted and unregulated chemicals readily available

If nothing else, she was going to have f-u-n this year

Carmafe

Resigned but can’t deny the excitement bubbling underneath. Or maybe it’s hysteria, it’s a little hard to tell.

She listens to the prepared speech, only growing a little reluctant when calling Mammon and hearing him swear up a storm over having to keep watch over her. He comes to lead her back to the dorms, but she hesitantly raises her hand, unsure of the protocol. Amused, Lord Diavolo beckons her to speak.

“Excuse me for speaking out of turn , but may I be returned to the human realm for a bit? There are some things I need to handle if I’m going to be away for so long, but I only need 4 hours.”

Lord Diavolo initially denies her request, but Carmafe has experience in diplomacy. She argues her point for a few minutes and it impresses (or amuses) Lord Diavolo enough that he allows her to return for 2 hours. She catches sight of the men with gloves standing next to each other, one indifferent, one irate, and knew this was going to be a one time request so she better make it account.

Having recently completed her final job, and since she hadn’t accepted any new contracts yet, it only took 30 minutes for Carmafe to set up an automated message saying she would be unavailable for the foreseeable future and set up a mailing list for her return.

The next 30 minutes were a mass phone call to her 4 friends, telling them she would be MIA for a while and asking them to take care of her house while she was gone. Since she wasn’t allowed to tell them about the exchange program, 25 of those 30 minutes were spent reassuring them that she wasn’t actually going to just off herself and call it a one year vacation.

She uses the last hour to cram as much as she can into her suitcase. Bottles of body soap, toothbrushes, toothpase, first aid supplies, essentials. Near the end, 3 sets of clothes, hoodies, and her favorite novel for comfort. Right as she zips up the suitcase and straightens up, she’s back in the devildom with her audience of 8.

“Thank you for the honor, I’m excited to start the school year..”

Danny

Tries to jump out of the window

LISTEN, she came out of an unexpected sleep only to be surrounded by 7 super tall and buff men in a meeting hall she doesnt recognize? Absolutely not, this is how you lose your organs.

She doesn’t make it far, getting yanked back down to the ground by a dude with gloves and dark red eyes. “Lord Diavolo” gets Lucifer to drop her, and after giving Danny a minute to get oriented, goes through the whole “exchange program” spiel.

The knowledge that everyone and everything here would be capable and willing to kill her was not lost on Danny, but she has to admit, the concept of a demon school and magic was far too enticing to worry over the logistics for too long.

Annoys Mammon on the walk to the House Of Lamentation by openly staring at everything and trying to touch every plant on the walk over, accumulating 10 cuts and scrapes by the time they’re through the gate.

Excitement is quickly shot down when she walks into her room and realizes she only has 2 uniforms, a toothbrush, some toothpaste, and the clothes on her back to her name.

Rose

Gaslighting 101 and “Cook and clean for 7 messy guys? No paycheck? No thanks!”

“I never signed the agreement.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You quite literally did.”

“That’s not how I write my signature.”

Honestly unsure what to make of her situation, but ultimately decides to roll with it. Flirts with Asmo, and has to keep the smirk off her face when he’s surprised that his powers don’t work on her.

Super grateful to see that her bedroom door has double locks but already has plans to install a full security system and tinkers with the phone that was given to her.

Roxanne

Pure confusion, but not about to fight her way out of this.

Puts up the least amount of fight but has a sense of wonder and intrigue at the prospect of magic and returning to school.

Doesn’t let Mammon abandon her when levi starts demanding money, she sees his plan coming a mile away and sneaks off to her room before either man can realize she’s gone.

School! School…. School.

In the silence of her room, the reality of her situation threatens to overwhelm her and instead of lingering on her anxiety, Roxie starts to reorganize and take inventory of her borrowed room. Thankfully, they seem to forget she’s in the house and no one calls her down to dinner.

[mischief-lies-and-stories]

Episode 6 Coherent(?) Thoughts

Okay my brain is fried from that episode, and I have things to do today so a rewatch is probably not in the foreseeable future (it is 12:55PM when I'm starting to write this queued post, and I haven't eaten yet today, if that tells you anything about what this episode has done to my brain and also what I have to get done today that I'm not doing right now and also a variety of other things that are out of my control so the anxiety's having lots of fun today okay moving on). I may do a Part 2 to the coherent thoughts for this episode, but also I'm planning a season 2 wrap-up post later this week so that might cover anything I don't talk about here. Spoilers for Loki season 2.

Okay but does he have to be there? Real talk though but does he have to be there? Does he have to be constantly watching the timelines, or is it like a knot where if he moves it all comes apart? Or once things get moving can he come and go as he pleases? Because I need him to NOT BE THE LOKI WHO REMAINS. MOBIUS, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU DOOMED HIM TO THIS FATE IN EPISODE ONE.

(Oookay, starting off very sane and coherent. Clearly.)

So far I've written two poems (queued up and coming) and started two fic ideas (which might become one fic, we'll see). And I'm sure I'll be coming up with more because like fucking hell am I leaving him there alone. The fic ideas are lengthy, though, so I would not expect them before the end of the week at the absolute earliest (and I'm finally starting my new job on Monday, so that might not happen either), and are probably too long for Tumblr so I'll likely just post to AO3 and promote the link on here once it's published.

(Side note: If you want those two poems early, and they're...okay, so maybe you do, I just put all (four) of my season 2 poems in one publication on AO3. The work is called To Stay (and other poems inspired by season 2) if you're interested. Or wait for the queued posts on Monday.)

I'm obsessed with the new outfit. The horns are too funny to me but the cloak is the shit. I wish it was The Coat, but it'll do excellently. My main criticism though is what the fuck are those shoes?! Just lose the shoes, bud! Post-ego death Loki comes back barefoot; he doesn't need shoes.

Loki did not technically create Yggdrasil. Not the concept of it, at least. It's been part of Asgardian vocabulary about the realms since before he was born (I'm pretty sure it's on the mosaic in Ragnarok). What he did was take the timelines and create a literal manifestation of the World Tree in the cosmos. Whether it already existed on the sacred timeline somehow as a literal and cosmological structure holding the nine (ten) realms together in the MCU, I don't know, but since we haven't seen it up to this point I think it's safe to say that it didn't. The real question is, if Loki took all of the branches and passed through the rift and his friends could no longer see him or the timelines from the TVA, how do they know it looks like a tree now, enough to put it on their new posters?

I said this already, but he's been a tree before and CANONICALLY HE DOESN'T ENJOY IT (to be fair he usually doesn't choose to become a tree). This fate is making me distraught, and brings me back to point one, in my own personal time loop.

[bedlessbug]

ploys within plots

crucially concerned with the theme of foreseeing the future.....author prophetically presents his series' basic concept - psychohistory, ecology.... what was only in the process of becoming dynamical systems analysis, the scientific field now popularly termed "chaos theory";.... mirrors... its narrative structure and its themes and motifs .... what can only in retrospect be seen... concept's dynamical systems model.

science can investigate only what it first imagines. this crucial visionaiy step is often taken by the artist not the scientist: that science follows a path art has already envisioned and mapped for the culture as a whole.

chaos theory model sees dune as a dynamical system that might be radically changed through minimal alteration.

chaos theory is the study of orderly patterns in turbulent, erratic or dynamical systems (PI)

Kynes: obsessed with transfomring dune by way of "man as a constructive ecological force". building a new landscape. Kynes thus: "views Dunes ecology from a chaos theory model, as a dynamical system that might be radically altered through a minimal change in a key variable affecting its interlocking feedback loops."

a dynamical system is fundamentally recursive rather than linear - like the reading process itself, like the perspectives of Dune.

Fractal means self-similar, repetition of detail at descending scales, patterns inside of patterns.

Chaos is the science of the global, nature of systems... the universal behavior of complexity…. The first chaos theorists… had an eye for pattern… a taste for randomness and complexity, for jagged edges and sudden leaps.. ..They feel that they are turning back... the analysis of systems in terms of their constituent parts… that they a whole (Gleik, 5). Paul, several of the Bene Gesserit, many of the Dun and Miles Teg are all Mentats. And Mentats too are "trained to sense patterns, to recognize systems and wholeness" MENTAT AS CHAOS THEORISTS. Every ruler has a mentat, indispensable to their reign. the human computer who translates natures cybernetics into intelligible strategy and forms. What do these forms, or schemes, look like????? how are they enacted????

Kynes says that: "laboratory evidence blinds us to a very simple fact, …that.. .we are dealing here with matters that originated and exist out-of-doors"

"There is in all things a pattern in the way sand trails along a ridge, in the branch cluster of the creosote bush or the pattern of its leaves" (Dune, 380); and it is just such irregular, "random," "jagged" patterns that choas theorist study

If paradox bothers you that betrays your deep desire for absolutes

the only constant in the real universe is change

but chaos does have predicatble characteristics PI QUOTE

the irregular fremen sand walk like the natural shifting of wind and sand are examples of order existing in the apperance of chaos in nature

"from chaos we must make our own order"..... The "Bene Gesserit Way" is to "create [relative stability] with your own belief' from "the essential, raw instability of our universe" (Children, 250-5....Thus, the Bene Gesserit theorize that "belief structure creates a filter through which chaos is sifted into order" IMPORTANT, PERHAPS IN INTRODUCTION

bifurcation - the division of something into two branches or parts.

like time travel, dune uses knowlege of possible futures to alter its course. MENTATS can "predict to some extent in terms of probablities"

"What of the harmonics inherent in the act of prophecy? Does the prohpet see the future or does he see a line of weakness, a fault or clevage that he may shatter with words or descions...?".....much like a mathematician might drastically alter a fractal image by minutely changing a variable in the nonlinear equation that generates it"

Irulan writes of Paul, "He tells us that a single obscure decision of prophecy, perhaps the choice of one word over another, could change the entire aspect of the future."

Water, wind, storm, sand metaphors example the chaotic currents in history and time."""

pauls vision of the future is in gaps, irulans description of a "man standing on a valley floor, whose view of the terrain is blocked by surrounding hills" WHAT DOES THE TERRAIN HAVE TO SAY ABOUT LANGUAGE HERE??? AS in Baudrillards SIMULACRA?? POTENTIALLY>>>>

Is language order which plasters itself upon the chaos of the terrain? Myth acts as a simulation, a place of reference which now precedes the territory itself. What is the PROLEPSIS of ARRAKIS? How do they believe in it before they arrive?

Order out of Chaos is the rule rather than the excpetion!!!! ^^^^^^ in terms of map and territory (briggs and peat)

[technorad]

Am I a Jobs or a Gates? Or just a lost college student?

Ever feel like you're wandering without a map? As a first-year student unsure if I’ve chosen the right direction, watching Pirates of the Silicon Valley struck me like a revelation. This gripping film isn’t just about the birth of Apple and Microsoft, it’s a wild, high-stakes showdown between Steve Jobs and Bill Gates, packed with rebellion, genius, and cutthroat ambition. More than a tech history lesson, it’s a raw look at what it really takes to change the world. By the end, I wasn’t just entertained, I was questioning everything I thought I knew about success, passion, and whether I have what it takes to leave my own mark.

The movie resonated with me because, like Jobs and Gates, I’m at a point where I’m questioning my future. Will I succeed? Will I fail? Am I even cut out for this? The film doesn’t just show the glory of innovation; it exposes the struggles, the egos, and the sacrifices behind biggest names.

What are the factors that contributed to the success and failure of Steve Jobs as a Technopreneur?

Steve Jobs is one of the most iconic figures in tech history, but Pirates of the Silicon Valley doesn’t glorify him. It humanizes him. The film shows both his brilliance and his flaws, making his journey a compelling case study in technopreneurship.

Factors Behind His Success

Steve Jobs did not simply build computers. He changed how people experienced technology. Where others saw machines as tools, Jobs saw them as extensions of human thought. His focus on design went beyond looks. He wanted products to feel natural, like they belonged in people's hands. The Macintosh made computers approachable. The iPhone made technology disappear into instinct. While Microsoft spread Windows everywhere, Jobs insisted every piece of Apple's ecosystem had to work perfectly together. The hardware, software and even the box it came in all mattered equally.

This complete vision had consequences. Gates built software that adapted to any computer. Jobs demanded control over everything. This nearly destroyed Apple in the 1990s. Yet that same stubborn commitment later saved the company. The iPod succeeded because the music player, the software and the store worked as one system. Jobs showed technology could be both useful and beautiful, but only through absolute focus. That lesson still guides Apple today, proving his methods worked even if they were extreme.

A key moment in the film is when Jobs visits Xerox PARC and sees the graphical user interface (GUI) for the first time. While Xerox failed to capitalize on it, Jobs immediately recognized its potential and integrated it into the Macintosh. This demonstrates his ability to see opportunities where others didn’t.

According to a Harvard Business Review article on Jobs’ leadership, his success stemmed from his ability to "connect creativity with technology in ways that competitors couldn’t foresee" (Isaacson, 2012). This aligns with the film’s portrayal of Jobs as someone who didn’t just follow trends, he created them.

Jobs’ infamous demand for excellence is both a strength and a weakness. In the film, he berates engineers for minor flaws, delays product launches for perfection, and insists on sleek, intuitive designs. This obsession led to groundbreaking products like the Macintosh.

However, the film also shows how this trait alienated his team. His refusal to compromise often caused internal conflicts, but it also ensured Apple’s reputation for quality.

Jobs possessed an extraordinary persuasive ability that bordered on the supernatural, what colleagues called his "reality distortion field." This wasn't just charisma, but an almost hypnotic capacity to reshape people's perceptions of what could be achieved. He could convince engineers that impossible deadlines were reasonable, make investors believe in unproven concepts, and persuade consumers that they needed products they'd never imagined before. The film vividly portrays this trait through scenes where skeptical team members find themselves inexplicably agreeing to Jobs' demands against their better judgment, caught up in the intensity of his vision.

This power came from Jobs' unique combination of unwavering conviction and theatrical showmanship. He didn't just present ideas, he performed them with such certainty that doubts seemed irrelevant. Whether dramatically unveiling prototypes or reframing failures as necessary steps, Jobs made people believe in his version of reality. However, the film also reveals the darker side of this gift, the exhaustion of employees pushed beyond limits, the resentment when promises collided with practical constraints. His reality distortion field was both Apple's secret weapon and its cultural liability, demonstrating how transformative leadership can inspire breakthroughs while risking burnout and disillusionment.

Jobs somehow inspired people to surpass their own expectations. Early in his career, he demonstrated this ability by convincing his closest collaborators to take on seemingly impossible challenges under extreme deadlines. While others focused solely on technical execution, Jobs recognized how to motivate people to achieve more than they thought possible. This talent for pushing boundaries would later enable him to rally entire companies behind world-changing visions. His greatest skill wasn't technical expertise, but rather the ability to make engineers, designers and entire teams believe they could accomplish the extraordinary. What began as motivating individuals eventually transformed into inspiring entire industries to reimagine what technology could be.

Factors Behind His Failures

Jobs' leadership approach during his early years was marked by an intense, often destructive perfectionism that prioritized results over relationships. He was known for creating a high-pressure environment where team members faced harsh criticism and public humiliation when their work didn't meet his impossible standards. This management style extended to taking personal credit for collective innovations while assigning blame for failures to others. The work culture became so toxic that it ultimately led to his removal from operational leadership, demonstrating how even brilliant visionaries can undermine their own success through poor people management.

The fallout from this leadership style proved professionally devastating at the time. Being forced out of the company he helped create served as a pivotal moment that exposed the limitations of his early approach. While the relentless drive for excellence produced innovative creations, the human cost became unsustainable. This experience appeared to fundamentally change his perspective on leadership. Later reflections suggest this period of professional exile helped reshape his understanding of how to motivate teams without burning them out. The transformation following this setback highlights how even the most talented leaders must balance vision with empathy to achieve lasting success.

A Stanford case study on Apple’s early years notes that Jobs’ inability to collaborate was a major weakness (Yoffie & Slind, 2008). While his vision was unmatched, his people skills were lacking, a critical flaw in entrepreneurship.

Jobs believed so strongly in his ideas that he dismissed market realities. The film shows him insisting on a closed ecosystem for Apple, refusing to license software (unlike Microsoft). This rigidity allowed Microsoft to dominate the PC market.

A revealing contrast emerges when examining their fundamental approaches. Both Jobs and Gates possessed extraordinary foresight, recognizing possibilities in technology that others couldn't imagine. However, their paths diverged in implementation, where one pragmatically evolved with the industry's shifting landscape, the other remained uncompromising in his philosophy, even when this rigidity created significant challenges for his company. This difference in adaptability ultimately shaped their respective legacies, with one building ubiquitous solutions through flexibility while the other created revolutionary products through unyielding conviction. Their opposing strategies highlight how similar visionary beginnings can lead to dramatically different outcomes based on willingness to adapt.

Jobs was a visionary, but not always a businessman. The film contrasts him with Gates, who focused on scalability and profits. Jobs’ neglect of cost efficiency and partnerships (like his refusal to work with IBM) hurt Apple in its early years.

Jobs achieved success through his unique talent for anticipating what users wanted before they knew it themselves. His ability to reimagine entire product categories, taking computers from specialized tools to personal devices, phones from communication gadgets to lifestyle companions that set Apple apart in the technology landscape. He pushed teams to achieve what seemed impossible through sheer force of will and attention to detail. Yet these very qualities also created significant challenges. His unwillingness to accept anything less than perfection strained relationships with colleagues, while his rigid adherence to certain ideals sometimes put Apple at a competitive disadvantage during critical moments in the company's history.

The film presents these contradictions honestly, offering important lessons for future technology leaders. It shows that vision and determination, while essential for innovation, must be balanced with flexibility and emotional intelligence. Jobs' return to Apple marked an important evolution in his leadership, he maintained his high standards while demonstrating greater willingness to listen and adapt. This more mature approach enabled Apple's most successful era. For those building technology companies today, the lesson is clear, transformative ideas require not just technical brilliance and bold thinking, but also the ability to work with others, make practical compromises when needed, and create an environment where people can do their best work without fear of unreasonable demands.

How Do I See Myself as a Future Technopreneur?

The film Pirates of the Silicon Valley didn’t just tell a story, it held up a mirror. Still searching for my place in this industry, I couldn’t help but wonder,

"Do I have the vision, the resilience, and the spark to make an impact?"

Watching Jobs and Gates rise from uncertainty to greatness made me question not just where I’m headed, but whether I have what it takes to get there. The glow of my PC screen was the only light in my room as the credits rolled, my fingers hovering motionless above the keyboard, caught in that peculiar silence that follows something truly thought-provoking. The movie had ended, but the questions were just beginning to take root in my mind, spreading like vines through every assumption I'd ever made about my future in tech. This is more than just a career path it’s an identity, a calling, a relentless pursuit of something greater than myself. But what does it mean to be a technopreneur in a world that constantly redefines the rules? How do I see myself not just as a participant in this industry, but as someone who might one day help shape it?

There’s a scene in the film where Jobs, played compellingly by Noah Wyle, stands in a garage, soldering components with an almost manic focus. His eyes burn with the kind of intensity usually reserved for cult leaders or mad scientists. Watching him, I felt something unsettling, a sense of recognition. I’ve assembled hardware before, experienced the thrill of bringing circuits to life, but I know that obsessive state goes beyond just building. It’s in the late-night coding sessions where hours disappear, the euphoria of finally solving a stubborn bug, the rush of discovering an elegant solution to a complex problem. Like Jobs, I don’t just want to use technology. I crave the chance to reshape it, to leave my mark on how people interact with machines. But even as this ambition excites me, a quieter voice asks whether I have the resolve to do what it truly takes. The life of a technopreneur isn’t just about brilliant ideas it’s about surviving the grind, the failures, the moments when everything seems to be falling apart. It’s about waking up every morning with that same fire, even when the world tells you to quit.

I’ve always demanded perfection from myself, as if everything was a draft and needs to be rewritten all the time until it felt flawless. I’d stay up late redoing work that was already ‘good enough,’ dismissing my own exhaustion as weakness. To me, anything less than perfect was failure.

Then one night, my mother found me at my desk for the third straight hour, reworking notes from my notebook that was already detailed. She watched me erase and rewrite the same sentence repeatedly before finally saying, 

"You can’t just keep make something perfect when it’s already more than enough."

That line lodged itself in my mind like a splinter because I understand that obsessive drive all too well. When working on school projects, I’ll agonize over every detail, revising essays long past the deadline, refining code until it’s as efficient as possible, reworking presentations to make sure every slide flows perfectly. My friends laugh when I stress over formatting or get frustrated by unclear instructions, but to me, sloppy work feels almost like a personal failure. Yet the movie forces me to confront the human cost of this mentality. Jobs’ perfectionism gave birth to revolutionary products, but it also burned bridges and destroyed relationships. I always think the if everything goes perfectly as planned, I will attain success. Is that the price of greatness? Could I even survive paying it? As a future technopreneur, I need to ask myself where to draw the line between healthy ambition and self-destruction. The tech world celebrates the myth of the lone genius, but no one builds the future alone. Collaboration, empathy, and the ability to listen might matter just as much as raw technical skill.

Then there's Gates, the pragmatic strategist who outmaneuvered everyone by focusing on what would sell rather than chasing perfection. In one of the film’s most striking moments, he says,

"Success is a menace. It fools smart people into thinking they can't lose."

That line makes me pause. If Jobs represents the restless drive pushing me to create something significantly impactful, Gates is the voice of caution reminding me that ambition alone isn’t enough. And now, when I obsess over perfecting every detail, his words echo in my mind, warning me that confidence can easily turn into blind arrogance.

At 2 AM, staring at my half-finished side project, I finally confront the core of my anxiety. I'm terrified of choosing wrong. What if I pour my soul into a startup only to realize I lack the ruthlessness needed to succeed? What if I take a safe corporate job and spend decades haunted by "what ifs"? The film's portrayal of Jobs' exile from Apple hits particularly hard because it is not just a career setback. It is the complete unraveling of his identity. When he returns years later, he is both hardened and humbled. The film suggests this experience was necessary for his growth. But here in my room, growth does not feel like an inspiring montage. It feels like walking blindfolded through a minefield, each step potentially catastrophic. This is the reality of being a technopreneur it’s not just about the victories, but about how you survive the defeats. It’s about learning to pick yourself up when the world has written you off, when your own doubts threaten to consume you.

What Pirates of the Silicon Valley ultimately gave me wasn’t just inspiration. It was permission to be conflicted. Jobs and Gates weren’t born icons. They were college dropouts fumbling toward greatness. Their genius was not in having all the answers, but in persisting despite the overwhelming questions. So tonight, I will take a small but meaningful step. I will resist the urge to endlessly polish my current project and finally release something flawed but functional. I will stop obsessing over crafting a perfect "personal brand" and focus instead on continuous learning. And when doubt creeps in, as it inevitably will, I will remember that even the legendary pirates of Silicon Valley started as lost kids staring at screens, wondering if they truly belonged in the world they would eventually transform.

The credits may have rolled on the film, but my own story is still loading. Maybe this uncertain, questioning place is exactly where I need to be right now. The film didn’t just tell me a story about the past, it forced me to interrogate my own future. It made me realize that the tech industry isn’t just about code or products, it’s about the people behind them, the ones who wrestle with doubt and ambition in equal measure. It’s about the late nights when the glow of the screen is the only companion, the moments of frustration when a bug seems unsolvable, the exhilaration when it finally works. It’s about the tension between idealism and pragmatism, between wanting to change the world and needing to pay the bills.

I think about the scene where Jobs, in his early days, is so convinced of his vision that he refuses to compromise, even when it means alienating those around him. There’s something admirable in that level of conviction, but also something terrifying. Because what if the vision is wrong? What if the stubbornness leads not to revolution but to ruin? The film doesn’t shy away from showing Jobs’ flaws, his arrogance, his temper, his inability to see beyond his own perspective. And yet, it also shows how those very traits, when channeled into something greater, can change the world. It’s a paradox that keeps me up at night. Can you be driven without being destructive? Can you be ambitious without being ruthless?

Gates, on the other hand, represents a different kind of genius. His brilliance lies not in aesthetic perfection but in strategic dominance. He sees the chessboard when others are still learning the rules. In the film, he’s portrayed as someone who understands the game of business in a way Jobs never could. And that’s where my own conflict deepens. Because part of me admires the purity of Jobs’ vision, the way he believed so fiercely in the artistry of technology. But another part of me recognizes the cold, hard truth of Gates’ approach, that innovation means nothing if it doesn’t reach people, if it doesn’t sell.

This duality is what makes the film so resonant. It doesn’t offer a clear hero or villain, just two flawed, brilliant men who shaped the world in very different ways. And in doing so, it holds up a mirror to anyone who dreams of making their mark in tech. Because the question isn’t just whether you have the skills or the ideas, it’s who you’re willing to become in the process. Are you a Jobs, relentless in your pursuit of perfection, even at the cost of everything else? Or are you a Gates, pragmatic to the point of cynicism, willing to bend the rules if it means winning the game? Or are you something in between, still figuring out where you stand?

For me, the answer isn’t clear. Maybe it never will be. But what the film taught me is that uncertainty isn’t weakness, it’s honesty. The path isn’t predetermined, and the choices aren’t binary. The tech industry is full of people who don’t fit neatly into either category, who navigate the tension between passion and pragmatism every day. And perhaps that’s where I’ll find my place, not as a Jobs or a Gates, but as someone who learns from both, who takes the best of each without losing themselves in the process.

So as I sit here, the glow of the screen still the only light in the room, I let myself sit with the questions. I don’t need to have all the answers yet. The film reminded me that even the giants of Silicon Valley started with doubts, with failures, with moments of sheer panic. What mattered wasn’t that they knew exactly where they were going, but that they kept going anyway. And maybe, for now, that’s enough. Maybe the most important thing isn’t having a perfect plan, but having the courage to take the next step, even when the path isn’t clear.

The credits may have rolled, but the story isn’t over. Mine is just beginning. And if Pirates of the Silicon Valley taught me anything, it’s that the journey is messy, complicated, and utterly unpredictable. But it’s also the only way to find out what you’re truly capable of. So I’ll keep coding, keep questioning, keep wrestling with the contradictions. Because somewhere in that struggle, in that space between vision and reality, between idealism and pragmatism, is where the future gets built. And who knows? Maybe one day, my name will be part of that story too.

To see myself as a future technopreneur means embracing this complexity. It means understanding that there is no single blueprint for success, no guaranteed formula. The path will be mine to carve, shaped by my strengths, my weaknesses, and the lessons I choose to take from those who came before me. It will require not just technical expertise, but emotional resilience, the ability to adapt, and the wisdom to know when to stand firm and when to pivot. Most of all, it will demand an unwavering belief in the value of the journey itself, with all its twists and turns, its triumphs and setbacks. This is what it means to be a technopreneur not just to build things, but to build yourself in the process.

The film ends, but the questions remain. The screen goes dark, but the glow of possibility lingers. Somewhere between the ghosts of Silicon Valley’s past and the uncharted territory of its future, there’s a place for me. I may not know exactly where it is yet, but I know I’m getting closer with every line of code, every late-night brainstorming session, every moment of doubt overcome. That’s how I see myself as a future technopreneur not as a finished product, but as a work in progress, constantly evolving, always learning, forever chasing the next breakthrough. The road ahead is long and uncertain, but for the first time, that doesn’t scare me. It excites me. Because the greatest innovations rarely come from those who have all the answers, but from those who aren’t afraid to live the questions.

Would you take the same career path that Steve Jobs took? Why or Why Not?

"Would I really want to be Steve Jobs?"

Not the legend. Not the genius on stage. But the man, who is driven, relentless, sacrificing everything for his vision. The one who burned bridges, pushed people too hard, and still changed the world.

I’m just starting in IT as a freshman. The future is wide open. But that question won’t leave me, 

"How far would I go? How much would I give up? Success like that doesn’t come clean, as it comes with scars."

Maybe the real question isn’t whether I can do it, but what it would cost. And honestly, I don’t know yet. But I think about it every day.

What makes this question so profoundly complex is how the film presents Jobs' story with unflinching honesty. There's no sugarcoating, no Hollywood gloss to soften the harder edges of his personality or the consequences of his choices. When Jobs stands in that Xerox PARC laboratory, his face illuminated by the glow of the first graphical user interface, I feel that same spark of recognition. That moment when technology transcends mere functionality and becomes something magical, something revolutionary. I've experienced flickers of this feeling during my own coding sessions, those rare instances when everything clicks into place and I can suddenly see how a piece of software could genuinely improve people's lives. Jobs' famous declaration that "we're here to put a dent in the universe" resonates with me on a visceral level because it articulates what I've often felt but never been able to express. The desire to create something that matters, that lasts, that changes the fundamental way people interact with technology.

Yet the film immediately complicates this idealism by showing the human cost of such uncompromising vision. There's a particularly brutal scene where Jobs reduces an engineer to tears over what seems like a minor imperfection in the Macintosh's design. The camera lingers on the engineer's face, capturing not just the humiliation but the exhaustion, the gradual erosion of passion under constant criticism. I think about my own experiences working in group projects, the tension between maintaining high standards and preserving team morale. There was a time in high school when I pushed so hard for a particular design approach that I ended up alienating some of my teammates. Although we ultimately implemented my solution, the victory felt hollow. The film forces me to confront an uncomfortable truth that perfectionism at all costs extracts a heavy toll not just from ourselves but from those around us. Jobs' path suggests that impactful innovation requires this kind of relentless pressure, but I'm no longer certain the trade-off is worth it.

The isolation that comes with Jobs' approach to leadership is another aspect that gives me pause. The film depicts with painful clarity how his single-minded focus gradually alienated nearly everyone who cared about him. As I've mentioned previously, a quiet but devastating moment when Wozniak, after years of patience and loyalty, finally walks away. The scene is understated, but the weight of Woz's simple statement,

"Steve, goodbye. I'm quitting Apple."

And the devastating follow-up,

"All I'm doing now is being a brake pedal for you as you're heading for the wall."

This moment haunts me more than any of Jobs' famous outbursts. Here was the man who built Apple's beating heart saying, I can't save you from yourself anymore.

Failure is another specter that looms large in my considerations. The film doesn't sanitize Jobs' professional setbacks into tidy learning experiences. The Lisa computer debacle is portrayed as what it truly was, a humiliating, career-threatening disaster. The scene where Jobs watches the dismal sales figures come in, his face slowly hardening into a mask of disbelief and rage, is particularly difficult to watch. I've experienced small failures of course, a rejected app submission, a programming activity where my solution failed spectacularly, but nothing approaching that magnitude. The film makes me question whether I possess the resilience to recover from that kind of public, significant catastrophe. Jobs seemed to feed on adversity, using each failure as fuel to push harder, but I'm not sure I'm built that way. When things go wrong, my first instinct is to question my fundamental competence, to wonder if I belong in technology at all. The gap between my reaction to failure and Jobs' seems vast, and it makes me wonder if following his path would ultimately break me rather than forge me into something stronger.

Perhaps most troubling are the personal costs depicted in the film. In one brief but haunting scene, Jobs' daughter Lisa stares at a closed office door while employees whisper about yet another canceled visit. The film doesn't dwell on the moment or milk it for melodrama. It simply shows the reality, allowing the audience to sit with the quiet devastation of a child who knows she'll always come second to her father's work. This hits uncomfortably close to home. I think about the family gatherings I've missed due to exams, the weekends spent making projects of my own benefit instead of visiting friends, the relationships that have frayed under the weight of my academic commitments. These are small sacrifices compared to what Jobs made, but they point in the same direction. The film forces me to ask how much further I'd be willing to go down that road. Is any product, any innovation, any professional achievement worth that level of personal cost? The dilemma about it remains, carrying beyond the scene with an unsettling weight.

Yet despite all these doubts, there's something undeniably powerful about Jobs' second act at Apple. His return wasn't about redemption, it was about reinvention. The man who came back wasn't the same brash visionary who got fired; he was someone who'd been tempered by failure and clarity.

This transformation crystallizes for me in his 2005 Stanford address, when he said. 

"The only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work."

Here, at last, was the lesson that took Jobs decades to learn, where passion without purpose is just obsession, and vision without humanity isn't wisdom. His later success at Apple proved something profound, that our greatest growth often comes after our hardest falls.

This is the version of Jobs I choose to learn from, not the young tyrant, but the man who discovered that real innovation requires both loving your work and remembering why you do it.

The statement carries weight because we've seen the journey that brought him to this understanding. This tempered version of Jobs, still driven but less destructive, gives me hope that there might be a middle path between blind ambition and complacent mediocrity. Not abandoning high standards altogether, but pursuing them in a way that doesn't leave emotional wreckage in its wake.

What becomes increasingly clear through the film's nuanced storytelling is that Jobs' path wasn't some predetermined destiny. It was the cumulative result of countless choices, each with consequences that compounded over time. The film's brilliance lies in showing both the triumphs and costs without judgment, allowing viewers to weigh them for themselves. As I consider my own future in tech industry, I realize the question isn't really whether I should follow Jobs' path in its entirety. That would be impossible, just as it would be impossible to perfectly replicate Gates' path or anyone else's. The real question is which aspects of his journey resonate with me, which lessons I can adapt to my own values and circumstances.

This realization brings both relief and new uncertainty. Relief because I don't have to become Steve Jobs to make meaningful contributions to technology. Uncertainty because it means I'll need to forge my own way, making choices that align with who I am rather than trying to mimic someone else's success. The film ends with Jobs standing in front of a large screen showing Bill Gates, a clear sign that power has shifted. Microsoft’s investment has kept Apple afloat, but the relationship between the two has changed. Jobs’ expression is hard to read. Is he proud? Does he regret anything? Maybe he feels both. That uncertainty feels more real than a simple success story, and it stays with me as I think about my own path forward.

The movie ended, but it left me thinking. Not about how to become like Steve Jobs, or follow his career path, but about what kind of tech person I want to be. Not just about making big changes, but about what I'd have to give up to make them happen.

These aren't thoughts I can figure out quickly. Maybe not ever completely. They're the kind that stick with you, making you look at your choices differently.

Pirates of the Silicon Valley has given me the framework to ask myself properly, to approach my career with eyes open to both the possibilities and the costs. That feels like meaningful progress. The screen may be dark now, but the real work of building a meaningful career, one that honors both ambition and personal values, is just beginning. And perhaps that's the most valuable lesson of all, that our paths aren't set in stone but are ours to shape with each decision we make, each standard we set, each relationship we nurture along the way.

The real question isn't whether you can be the next Steve Jobs, it's whether you can be the first you.

And I don't wanna be Steve Jobs or follow his career path completely, because changing the world matters, but so does staying human while you do it.

[mineofilms]

DOOMED...

As long as each side claims to be the good, the right, and the just. Always painting the other as wrong, bad, and evil. Things will only get worse for us all. But none of it really matters in a reality where this is all some sort of simulation or video game; where the plot is so fixed that any choice we make has no impact, imprint, or evidence on the outcome of the game. That no matter what you do in the game; you end up at the same boss fight at the end, with the same life, the same weapons, the same treasures and the same everything. It's these types of environments where the lack of realism is felt and where we eventually realize that something is not right with said reality. Some of it seems real, some seems normal and then you see a giant clown head with a spider tattoo on its forehead in the sky where the Sun should be. Eventually, the brain will tell us what is real and what is not real. It is when our realities are flipped upside down and inside out, like a tesseract, that feelings on reality become existential horror.

Real Terror…

There is an idea of freedom for all—some kind of abstraction—but there is no real freedom—only an empty thirsty void—something illusive, rich as fuck—and though we can hide our cold gaze—and we can shake our heads—and feel love—hate—and maybe—we can even sense our values may actually be comparable in some random and insignificant way: we simply—are not there. We are not—listening—We—simply—do not—care...

Apply all that to your common sense. How does reality feel right now? Something ABSOLUTELY does not feel right here… Yeah, we mean nothing. God cares not for you, me, your kids, your freedoms, their suffering, your suffering, and mine. With all that... All we have are those moments of love with those we love the most. Become obsessed with that!!! Not this Bull-Shit. It doesn't matter who we vote for. We all lose… By the time ‘right now’ impacts the future, I'll be dead. Some of you before me. Most of you shortly after me, again, it means nothing in the bigger picture. Why would I care about that in which I cannot alter, control or have input on? My vote makes zero impact. Why waste that by which I cannot ever get back? The energy and time? Once used they cannot be given back. The current landscape of politicians are not qualified to be politicians. As long as we look at Americans as us versus them or them versus us. We are all going to be trapped in this vicious cycle.

This is why I no longer give much time and energy in my headspace anymore. I will comment here/there, make fun of both sides but I am not interested in fighting for either side. It's not about community, politics or right or even wrong. It's a philosophical question. Most if not all politicians cannot do anything that has anything to do with bigger, deeper philosophical questions and concepts of any kind. It's why most of them talk in circles and never actually say anything when they talk. It’s just Charlie Brown’s parents lingo. How many times did we hear either one of the candidates actually answer the questions without going on with tangents and on with other subjects, complicated word salads that say nothing by both and/or makes claims about the other that have little to no actual meaning or substance? Post after post, after comment, after meme, it is all the same. Most Americans hate both these people. This is why ‘Crazy Ralph’ is correct; "we're all doomed."

I'm already dead… My brain and body just don't know it yet. Enjoy the moments, stop thinking about the future, because there isn’t one for you or me. Your kids, perhaps, but I chose before I was even old enough to have sex, that I never wanted kids of my own. I was then and am now even more severely against procreation for myself.  There is no grand future, only now, and the foreseeable future which is how foreseeable exactly? Just enjoy the time we have left. Work towards things that make you happy. Stop trying to think you control these things in the macro-world or even impact them in any ‘meaningful’ way. Keyword,��“meaningful.” You are not that important. What exactly can I do right now to help and/or make a real sharp change in the landscape? Nothing… I, personally, can do absolutely nothing. With all my issues by the time I have time to think about such things it's time for bed and do it all over again, so no. I cannot do anything about anything and stopped pretending I actually could after my near-death experience. I am much better off for it. I cannot say happier or good. I tend to say ‘less bad.’ Because good doesn’t really happen with me. I understand I am not that special, beautiful, or unique in any macroscopic way.

“You are not special. You're not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else. We're all part of the same compost heap. We're all singing, all dancing crap of the world.” ― Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

With that said, laugh at the memes… If you get triggered by this stuff this much it’s time to pull back and think about yourself, because “they” are going to do them first and do you last, if at all. That is what politics is in the 2020s. Love your country, but hate your leaders, because they do not lead, they dictate…

23 years ago the country stood still, and our hearts sank as the Twin Towers fell, smoke rose, and lives were forever altered. We remember where we stood, who we held, and the stunned silence that followed. It was a day that cracked the soul of a nation, and from those ashes rose a storm of uncertainty, fear, and division. Yet, in remembering that day, we honor the lost and the brave, a reminder to never let our differences overshadow our shared humanity. Let us never forget, not just the pain, but the unity we once sought. We need that desire for unity again…

Doomed… by David-Angelo Mineo 9/11/2024 1,069 Words

[zahri-melitor]

Eh, we have different memories of the level of support for Tim ever looking up to Jason around the fandom in the late 2000s (my portion of it was very focused on the kick, and considering that as the dynamic between the two of them for the foreseeable future. Made it VERY weird to return to the fandom after a decade away to see how radically the position had shifted). I don’t disagree some people played around with the concept, but it wasn’t a dominant one.

My issue with most of the characterisation of ‘Jason was MY Robin (what’s a Dick Grayson)’ is that the vast majority of textual support for Tim having an attitude in that direction that I’ve read is mostly written between 2011-2016. Most of it for before then is at least equally weighted with Dick, or Dick predominating.

I will push back on the idea Bruce ran a smear campaign, however.

I’ve never actually read Bruce’s feelings about Jason while he was dead as a smear campaign. I read it as something far more tragic: time altering memories.

Because as Bruce replayed his memories, he became caught up looking for what went wrong. He got caught on little memories of times when Jason took risks, when Jason was reckless, when Jason moved before being told to, when Jason made a different call to the one that Bruce would have made. And he obsessed - is this the reason everything went wrong? Is this something he should have recognised sooner? Could he have prevented this?

And when you play a memory over and over you can alter that memory, especially if you’re focusing on certain details. The significance of every little occasion grew in his mind. To the point that Bruce could find himself concluding, that yes, Jason HAD been reckless - weren’t there all these events he could remember? Maybe he had been right in his suspicions about Garzonas?

And also, conveniently, ‘memories altering over time’ is also how retcons work, retelling a story to yourself until you can make sense of it. Bruce trying to find a reason in what happened entwined with editorial retcons and at the end of it, what Bruce (and what Alfred, Barbara and Dick) remember of Jason is the brash boy who was reckless. They remember the tragedy, as they had to live with the consequences. (And honestly, the Gotham Knights 43-45 story is pretty good support for the idea of everyone’s focus being on trying to work out how it went wrong)

Even if you don’t read the Jason on page in 1987-8 that way. Even if that’s not how Jason remembers events. It’s how the people who mourned his death now remember him.

And honestly I find it fascinating, that you can have someone read for Jason, and jump straight from 1988 to 2005, and come away with one read on ‘what happened’ and have another person read for Bruce and all those years of intervening events, of chances to change events including turning down an offer to resurrect Jason, of the layers of hurt and regrets and memories, and come to a very different view.

One fanon thing that gets to me, is that okay, if you want to use Photo Kid Tim. Tim who takes photos of superheroes. You want to roll with that fanon.

That's a version of post-Crisis Tim. That's the Tim who was at the circus and saw Dick Grayson and imprinted on him. He didn't encounter Jason until he was 10-11 years old.

He's also the Tim who kicked Jason in the balls. He has a bunch of feelings about Jason, but the Robin he cares most about is Dick.

If you want the Tim that says Jason was his favourite Robin and closest 'brother', that's New 52 Tim. Firstly that's not the Tim Drake you're looking for, secondly this is a Tim Drake who necessarily cannot have the same Photo Kid past, because that Tim doesn't have the circus backstory, and that Tim didn't have a Batman, let alone a Robin, until he was 10-11 years old. Which if you want this Tim tracking Bats, it's more realistic given his older starting age for all events, but also given the time frame is compressed, Jason's probably Robin for less than a year, when Tim is about 12-13, and Jason is 17 at that time.

There's a much bigger age gap. It's only a very short period of time. The history is far far different. It's just got a whole heap of different dynamics.

These are two separate incompatible storylines. Grabbing the set up from one and imposing the character dynamics from the other is sure, a fanon choice you can make, but it's not there in the actual stories.

[brightgoat]

My thoughts on JJBA OVER HEAVEN

So first of all -

it seems my JJBA binge is not over yet, I am still on the desert island and instead of their being water sources large enough to get waterboarded in like last time, I am instead finding small refreshing puddles.

This is copy pasted from my twitter so pardon if its formatted weirdly

I read the novel and- (spoilers under cut)

although it might be dubiously canon, I like it a lot that I think it should be considered so, and in my mind overrides any inconsistencies that the anime/manga may bring up. The timeline seems fucked either way you look at it, fittingly for this story I guess

I liked how it showed the evolution of his idea of ‘heaven’ and how it slowly became what Pucci defined it as. I like how it gives depth without straying from Dio’s insane villainy. and the mommy issues were certainly something as well It actually made me appreciate part 1

I have realised this while I was still watching the anime, but the novel confirms it; all the villains either represent a part of Dio, the big bad

Kars - Dio’s desire to constantly transcend his current state, humanity and whatnot, keep moving up the power scale

Kira - Dio’s idea that all humans live for ‘peace of mind’, as he puts it for himself- ‘preparedness’, knowing that the future will be fine

Diavolo - Dio’s resolve to move only forward, only towards the future

I do love how for the two Stand users, their Stands complement their motives, Kira creating time loops to ensure nothing bad happens to him, and Diavolo ‘skipping time’ to move into and foresee the future. Kira is more ‘stuck in the past’ and Diavolo is heading for the future

Dio is in the present, he merely stops time for a few seconds. It sets up the time manipulation premise in the simplest way and also gives him the further mindfuckery he needs to arrive at his conclusion

And then Pucci, the final villain, is Dio’s resolve to get to ‘heaven’, the culmination of the mindfuckery- their conclusion of it being that the definition of ‘heaven’ is obtaining peace by knowing all of the future and all of fate, and living it out in preparedness.

Their Stands are also opposite of one another, Dio stops time for a brief moment and Pucci accelerates it for all of eternity. Pucci is the kind of fucking guy to spoil the entire movie before watching it

I do love how they define fate as ‘gravity between people', and connect that to the theory of relativity (i’m always a sucker for this kind of shit) combining scientific theory with ideas of fate through a religious character is also just a cherry on top, I love it

THAT and how his Stand Whitesnake, whose powers are to extract ‘souls’ (or so to speak), is covered in the abbreviation of DNA compounds. Also fun fact whitesnake’s voice is based off of patrick star from spongebob

Overall, it was interesting to read how Dio became obsessed with the concept of fate, Ironically, were JJBA to be written with more foresight (preparedness even), then maybe Dio’s thoughts could’ve been more implemented into the story. Don’t get me wrong, he should still be his insane-cartoonishly-evil self at the same time, I love him for that. However, this novel was not written by the OG author, so who knows how canon it even is.

Another thing of note: Dio and Pucci seem to arrive at their idea of ‘heaven’ independently (you could argue Dio kind of began it by suggesting the idea of ‘gravity’ to him), but it was Pucci’s circumstances that ultimately led to it. Dio, at least for a few pages, believes that what one is born into decides everything. And they were born into vastly different situations. Dio talks a lot about his hate of nobles and ‘inheritors’ and hated both his biological and adoptive family.

Pucci is from an influential wealthy family and loved them so. Dio’s sibling was a miscarriage and Pucci’s presumed-dead-twin was actually alive. But both lived circumstances that arrived to a shared idea of ‘heaven’. Dio knows at least the deaths in Pucci’s life, I wonder if he knows his background and if knowing it would challenge or confirm his idea of fate.

I can’t help but wonder how Pucci felt reading the diary through Jotaro’s memories. Also wonder if Pucci saw how Dio died through none other than Jotaro’s memories as well.

Also i don’t know why, this is probably not what is implied cuz it wouldn’t fit characterwise(unless?) but……… did Pucci take Dio’s memory of showing him The World????? Why is it written this way and if so then adhsagdah??

Anyways if you ask me if i’m team ‘ora-ora’ or team ‘muda-muda’ its the latter for me baby

[sagau-my-beloved]

Are you still taking requests? If so can I please have a SAGAU venti coming to the real world to meet creator? Also I understand, Venti is my favorite as well

A Lack of Patience and the Fortunate Result

Hello! I am absolutely still taking requests and will probably be doing so for the foreseeable future! Also this might turn into a part one of multiple, because there's just so much to cover— Annddd I'll probably be doing a set of headcanons just on this concept alone later, because it's really inspired so many ideas that I just don't think I'd have the time to flesh out into separate one shots, whoops (also fellow Venti fans unite, maybe we should start a support group)

Warnings: general Sagau, mild codependency, cussing at a part, mild obsession

-

Venti was impatient.

It really would have been assumed that a multi-thousand year old God would have at least an above average amount of patience.

This was a false assumption, Venti was never forced to wait for anything, and didn't have a lot of experience in sitting idly by.

Which made this entire thing absolute torture.

You were alive. He knew you were, they all knew you were. But you weren't actually there with them yet, and that was the torturous part.

You were God knows where, a different dimension, a different universe, somewhere that only allowed you to access Teyvat through spirit alone.

And he was grateful, grateful that he had your presence at all, grateful that any part of you lingered. But that didn't change the fact that it simply wasn't enough anymore.

He used to be content with it, he really did, simply basking in the reality of having you at all, allowing himself to close his eyes and just feel you for hours at a time.

But as time grew, so did his obsession, and it really didn't help that you would only show up for a few days, maybe a few weeks, compared to the months of time he couldn't feel your presence at all.

It caused him to start feeling strange emotions rather early on, it was almost comparable to anxiety when you weren't around for those long stretches of time.

Imagine that, the Archon of the fleeting wind, of freedom itself, feeling anxious.

It was almost laughable really, those emotions were so far from what he was, but he just couldn't help it when it came to you.

God, he wished he could help it.

It was only after the newest month that they really started to put him on edge.

It almost felt like the time that you were here was becoming fewer and farther in between. It couldn't have just been his imagination.

What if that had something to do with you? You hadn't been seen in so long, and you couldn't manifest a physical form, was your spirit being forcibly taken from this world?

This thought caused him many nights of pacing, many days of drinking in somber though.

The idea that your spirit would fully recede was too much for him. For him to never feel your presence again, he wouldn't have been able live with himself.

It was the middle of the second month when it happened, when he couldn't take the constant waiting anymore and decided to at least try to take matters into his own hands.

He spent a long night trekking to every single magic wielder and alchemist he could find, anyone that had even the slightest possibility of being able to merge the two worlds, bring you to him.

That was how he found himself before Albedo, willing to drop to his knees and beg for help, willing to give anything.

Albedo looked at him in pity, understanding exactly how dire the situation was.

He took the job, constructing a portal that looked like a magnificent doorway within only a few days time.

It wasn't perfect, it wouldn't really merge the worlds as much as create a hole through them, it would be up to Venti to find you and bring you here himself after that. A task he was more than happy to accept.

The location was set on the place which had the most traces of your energy, it wasn't an exact science, but it was all that could be done.

Albedo gave him a nod, signalling that it was ready, the portal was usable.

Venti knew the risks, and there were plenty of them, but this was necessary.

No one would know he was gone, he made Albedo swear secrecy, no one would know about the portal until he was back, ideally with you in his arms, or maybe even him in yours.

If he got back that was.

Venti closed his eyes tightly, stepping through the open doors into the bright light, feeling something almost akin to the strongest winds pulling at him.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw something completely unfamiliar.

It was almost as if the world had desaturated itself, the colour palette muting, it took his eyes a minute to get used to it.

He was standing in a room, the style of which was completely implacable.

Furniture created in a way that looked like nothing he had ever seen, not even close to any of the seven nations.

Everything seemed so otherworldly.

This couldn't be where you lived, could it?

The longer he wandered, the more it seemed likely. The more it seemed likely, the more his excitement grew.

It wasn't a particularly big living space, it seemed as though there was only a kitchen and living room, not separated by much, and a single bedroom.

It also seemed as though you weren't home, he really couldn't find traces of any life at all.

His nerves were starting to get the best of him, the anticipation of your eventually meeting starting to become more and more real.

Venti wanted to make himself useful, do something for you, create a good first impression, but he was also deathly afraid of touching anything.

Moving more carefully through the living space than he ever had before, he decided to sit, on the floor no less, and bide his time through playing comforting music.

So lost in concentration, he almost didn't hear the door open.

You were just getting back from your job, exhausted after a rather long day dealing with difficult people.

You opened the door to your apartment, cursing slightly as you almost dropped your keys.

You moved to put your stuff down, flipping on the lights as you did so.

Then you screamed.

Venti, not expecting the sudden loud noise, dropped his lyre before frantically scrambling to his feet.

It was you, it was you, he was looking directly at you. He could tell immediately that it was you, your spirit no different than the one he had grown comfortable with after all that time together.

"Your grace! Your grace it's me, no need to be afraid!"

There went his chance at a first impression.

You fell silent immediately after getting a good look at him, realizing that it was not, in fact, a dangerous intruder.

But that didn't make the situation any better.

"What the fuck, what the fuck, Venti!?"

You knew who he was, and despite this not being the best of circumstances, he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"Yes! I'm sorry if I scared you your grace."

An aura of relief emanated from him as he stepped closer, you almost fell over yourself trying to move further back.

"I'm going insane, you're not real and I'm going insane."

Well ouch, that hurt.

He shook it off and tried again to move the smallest bit closer.

"Your grace, please, I promise I'm not here to hurt you, I just had to see you."

Already having your back up against the wall, you glanced at the door knob, trying to calculate exactly how quickly you could unlock it and get out.

He took the second that your eyes weren't on him too close the gap, wrapping his arms around you.

Your body reacted immediately. You tried to push him off without even thinking, but he didn't budge.

When your mind finally caught up, you froze completely, you could smell an unrecognizable floral scent coming from him, could feel his hair brush against your skin, the warmth emanating from his body as his arms tightened around you.

If this was actually a hallucination, it was a damn good one.

When you seemed a bit more stable, he pulled back, making sure to keep his hands in yours, "I didn't mean to cause you so much distress, please forgive me your grace." His voice was almost dripping with worry as he spoke, the concern his expression displayed was almost suffocating.

You attempted to speak, to say anything in return, but no sound came out.

After a long moment of silence, which you took to get your bearings, you muttered out, "I need a glass of water."

You move towards the kitchen, pulling your hands away from him. He almost instinctively grabbed you, worried that you were once again trying to put as much distance as possible between the two of you, but managed to restrain himself.

Venti watched curiously as you took a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, downing the entire thing in seconds.

"I'm going to assume, for a second, that I am not crazy, and that you're real." You spoke after a moment, steadying yourself against the counter, "Working under that assumption, how the hell are you here?"

He smiled at that, walking closer to you before taking an exaggerated bow, "Your grace, I came here to take you back to Teyvat with me. Although I'm afraid I can't take credit for the portal, that was Albedo."

You stared at him as if he was crazy.

"No."

Well, that wasn't the answer he was expecting—

His face immediately fell as he lifted his eyes to see your stoic expression.

"But... Your grace—"

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

Oh.

Oh.

You... didn't know.

The realization struck him instantly, sending him spiraling down multiple different emotions.

"You're the creator, of Teyvat," his eyes held a pleading look, as if begging you to remember, "I could feel your spirit, we all could. I was worried you couldn't come to us yourself, so I came to get you."

You put the empty glass down and let out a sigh, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose in thought.

"Still working under the assumption that I'm not insane, which is feeling more and more like a stretch, I can't just abandon my life here, there's people here who need me."

He seriously considered saying 'There couldn't possibly be anybody here that needs you more than we do, than I do', but, even with his subpar ability at room reading, he knew that would probably not be the best response.

It was then, in the midst of his sorrow and regret, that he was hit with an idea.

He needed you, but he didn't necessarily need you in Teyvat.

"I can't get back without you."

That was a lie, the bold faced one at that, but it provided the perfect opportunity.

He could stay here, with you, just you. He could stay right by you and worship you as intended, convince you of the power you held. And, more importantly, he could have the opportunity to be the only one getting your attention.

Venti couldn't leave Teyvat forever, and he knew it was now his responsibility to convince you to come back with him, but why did that have to happen immediately?

You let out something akin to a grimace at his statement, understanding exactly what he was asking.

"You shouldn't have come here for me, I'm afraid I really can't help you..."

He stood silent, waiting, waiting for you to offer what he knew was going through your head.

Neither of you spoke, you refused to meet his eyes.

He waited.

"I... I guess you can stay here, until you figure out how to get back yourself..."

It was forced, you knew you were signing up for something rather great, but it felt inhuman to tell him to fend for himself in a world like this, so far from his own, so unkind.

He couldn't contain his excitement, he immediately lunged at you, wrapping you in another hug, much to your surprise.

"Venti!" You yelled in panic before you both fell to the floor.

"Ow."

You swore you could almost feel your head spinning.

"Please warn me next time."

He had fallen directly on top of you, almost feeling the need to hug you tighter after realizing exactly the position the two of you were in, prevent you from pushing him off.

You did so anyway, standing up and brushing yourself off afterwards.

"I can't believe there's an Archon in my kitchen..." you spoke to yourself, trying once again to convince yourself this wasn't a dream.

He was struck with a sudden idea, lying on the cold hard floor, and a mischievous grin spread across his face.

Before you even had time to register, his arms were around your legs.

You looked down at him in confusion, he responded with a look of complete adoration.

You almost rolled your eyes.

"Get off the floor."

He wasn't overly keen on moving, so you offered your hand, which he gladly accepted.

"If you're staying here, then you're going to need a change of clothes, and we need to set some boundaries."

He laughed, nervously, "Do I stand out that much?"

"Yeah, well, we don't exactly have bard's here. Maybe go for something a bit less eccentric."

He would wear whatever you gave him happily, but the idea of parting with the clothes that he had grown so fond of caused a feeling of sadness to flutter softly in his chest.

"Also, you should really stop calling me by those formal titles."

"That's out of the question your grace."

You gave him a soft glare as he beamed at you.

"Then just don't do it in public."

Oh? You would be taking him out in public?

"Of course my divine creator." He made a mental note to substitute it with something more intimate in those situations.

You tried your best to ignore him, choosing instead to walk out of the kitchen and place yourself on the sofa in your living room.

Venti followed you like a puppy, attempting to seat himself down directly on your lap before you shoved him to the right of you, causing him to let out a huff.

He made the most of his situation, choosing to wrap both his arms around your right one, resting his head on your shoulder.

"God you were never nearly this affectionate in the game." You muttered to yourself.

Game?

The wording confused him, he made a mental note to ask you about it later, but for now he was rather content resting near you. He was tired due to not having slept in a few days, the portal business taking all his attention.

You had half a mind to turn on the tv, allow the mindless drivel to stop you from thinking about the implications of this, of him showing up, but then realized you really didn't want to have to explain what a tv was to him and how it worked. So you instead opted to sit in silence and let your mind brush over everything that had just happened.

You found yourself almost liking the feeling of him, his warmth, his happiness.

You really did like him, this entire situation had just put you on edge, caused you to act a bit more blunt than you normally would.

Not only was a God sitting right next to you, but he was so adamant about you being one as well, that would probably throw anyone off.

After about half an hour, which really felt like no time at all, you noticed that Venti had fallen fast asleep, still holding your right arm in something akin to a death grip.

Fantastic, looks like you're not going to be able to move for a bit.

You stared at him a while, trying to bring your mind to accept the fact that this was real, he was real.

You smiled softly from how peaceful he looked, but that smile retreated pretty quickly as soon as you realized exactly how difficult this was going to be.

You didn't have an extra room, so either he was going to have to sleep on the couch for the foreseeable future, or you'd just have to break down and buy another bed.

You'd have to start shopping for two people as well, rework your financial plans to accommodate that.

Not to mention he's probably going to be asking a million questions about everything.

You almost felt yourself and developing a headache from the thought of it all.

But as you stared down at him, watching as his chest rose and fell gently, how he lay so peacefully against you, how much he already seemed to trust you, you couldn't help but feel like it might be worth it.

[theodora3022]

Yandere profile – Azul Ashengrotto

Summary: What is Azul like as a Yandere.

Content warnings: Possessiveness behaviors, emotional manipulation, solitary confinement, mentions of drugging and violence(non graphic)

A/N: Courtesy to @dovesgrave for the template! (Go check out her fantastic works too!) This took way longer than I originally expected... I have not been writing much, and is behind on many WIP yet I managed to get myself together for this! Sfw and reader's gender is not mentioned, gender neutral reader by default.

I been watching too many documentaries so the vocabulary choice could come off as odd. At the end I feel like psychologist-

Disclaimer: This is not healthy love and is meant to make you uncomfortable. I do not condone real-life abusive/harmful relationships; all of these are just analyzation of a fictional character in a video game.

Yandere type

Azul falls into the category of obsessive and manipulative type primarily, with a mix of loneliness induction type to have you depend on him solely. He is lucid, aware of what strategies should be used to win your affections, and others should the previous attempt fail. The Leech twins will be on his beck and call: to keep you under constant surveillance, to finish the dirty job for their boss! Just so the Octopus can present himself to you as innocent as he can be.

How would they confess?

In short, it is not a part of his plan.

Despite his suave façade, Azul’s looming insecurities would make him terrified of the concept of confession The idea of you rejecting him is both unbearable and frightening. So he would delay the inevitable for as long as he can.

However, when push comes to shove, the closet you can get out of the Octopus is borderline phrases in the heat of the moment. Most likely a consequence of you questioning him directly, why is he treating you as such?

“I-I do not hate you, on the contrary, I am very fond of y-”

The shock in his eyes is no act, along with flushed cheeks and tightened fists due to frustration and panic. (To see this scene would cost you lots, and Azul would not take money as payment)

Reaction to rejection

He does not take rejection well, but where is the surprise here.

Maybe you had begun pushing him away from your life, maybe you started developing feelings for someone else, or maybe one of your mindless gestures simply triggered his paranoia, the list is never-ending. But any behaviour that causes him to feel that: the carefully mapped-out master plan is not functioning as it should, would make Azul’s already crippled self-esteem worse.

Why is it that you do not respond to his romantic gestures?

Is it because he invited you to tea too many times?

Have you grown uncomfortable under the eel’s watchful eyes?

The analysis can wait; however, the alternative plan must be put into action at once.

Azul is now left with no choice but to take more drastic measures for you. Things are going to get complicated, but surely you will be worth the effort.

If you reject him in a confrontational exchange (Don’t, I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone)...

Looks like your licence to roam freely in Twisted Wonderland has been revoked!

How well they hide their obsessive traits

As aforementioned, Azul will try to put out an innocent front to gain your affection, nevertheless, everything else suggests otherwise.

You will get subtle but unfair, patronizing treatment from his inner circle(him, the tweels etc.).

By the way, the subtle does not apply to Floyd but the Eel will try, he is doing his best.

It might feel like he holds a grudge against you (thus would result in the confrontation mentioned above)…But he is only doing that because he likes you! Perhaps a little too much.

Likelihood to kidnap darling

It won’t be his entrée. Azul rather you come to him willingly, sign a contract that devotes yourself to him for the foreseeable future(does this count as willing? Questionable). But whisking you away is not off the table either. Any significant change in your behavior or his loss of patience could cause the incident.

Depending on Azul’s state of mind, you got two scenarios for abduction: 1. the violent way (eels, definitely not in a friendly manner) or 2. he adds something special into your tea.

Hostile situations such as rejection would result in 1, otherwise 2.

(For 1 the executioner would most likely be Floyd since Jade would need to console the sulking, crying Octopus)

Level of violence

Now we tread in some tricky waters, as this is the ever-pragmatic Octopus we are discussing here. Azul is not particularly violent himself. However, he will not hesitate to use violent means should the situation calls for it. He is not sadistic (like some other merfolk), but you are better off staying on his good side.

No physical harm would be inflicted on you. Threats of it could be a regular occurrence. As to whether or not he would make them a reality? The answer is no, but you got no clue concerning that.

Intent to kill

“...I see, what a shame. Now, onto plan B.”

Towards any competition and potential threats, blackmail and coercion from the Eels would be his first measures. If that is not enough to scare them off? Azul would take the matter into his own hands. A tasteless, scentless poison that would not leave any trace would work wonders. He would hold some pity for them deep down. Maybe Azul would wipe away some imaginary tears and tell them in their final moments: things did not have to end this way, if only they listened.

How do they punish their darling?

No physical violence, it is beyond Azul to hurt his lovely partner in such ways.

Isolation is his favourite way to get a rather unruly, stubborn darling to comply. He loves mind games and psychological tactics way more than the practice of brutes.

He would be your only source of communication, not even books would be allowed near you until you admit your wrongs(genuine or not), cling to him by the sleeve, and promise you will be good for him.

Likelihood you could escape from them

You’ll be under lock and key, stuck in a comfortable but heavily guarded apartment in the Coral Sea... The chances of you getting out of there as a human is slim, next to nothing to say the least. Azul does intend to get you turned into merfolk in the future, so you can accompany him everywhere he goes. But until you prove yourself to be trustworthy, prepare to spend some time in solitary confinement. Of course, he will visit you as much as he can.

If in the unlikely scenario that you did escape the apartment? You would not be able to make it far before one of his sources spots you, and they are ever willing to do Azul Ashengrotto a big favour.

When he personally drags you back to his residence, you will be able to tell he is frustrated.

It would probably be the first time Azul loses his façade completely before you, sobbing and pleading you to not abandon him with a shaky voice.

Pretty sure this is not the reaction you are expecting, why did he turn into an inspirational mess when he is supposed to be angry? This is an excellent use of vulnerability present in both parties, to guilt-trip your compassion. Yes, those emotions are very much real, it is just he is desperate enough to use his own emotions to trap you. You must be scared of him getting mad upon your forced return, that fear can be exploited if he pulls the correct strings. This guilt and sympathy would tie you to him better than locks and chains can ever do.

An unbreakable, life long contract of devotion, as he so romantically label the "relationship" you two shares to be.

@squid-god-supreme because they are a big Azul Simp :)

[wackybuddiemewbs]

WIP Wednesday

Hello there. Another AU I'm oddly obsessed with. I guess the concept of Being Human is just one of my many guilty pleasure AUs and I have since accepted my fate lol.

Basic idea: Buck and Eddie are not just your regular roommates. Because Buck is a werewolf and Eddie is a vampire, two men trying to manage their monsters, their jobs at the hospital, and raising Eddie's son Christopher.

Find out more here: Moodboard

There is this saying that we only appreciate what we have when we lose it.

And sure, true enough.

Because we easily take things for granted. We don’t even think about it that the sun will shine another day. That we have air to breathe. That the people we care about are part of our lives, even if they often annoy us.

And most of us, without a shadow of a doubt, take it for granted that we will wake up human every single day.

Because it makes sense. Because it happened so often before, why question it now? Why even entertain the thought of things being different, when there is no reason for it?

But is that really all of it?

Because sometimes, we appreciate something we don’t have, something we couldn’t ever lose because we never had it in the first place.

And sure, stupid enough.

Because it makes no amount of sense to miss something you never had. You don’t even know what it would actually be like. You may very well hate it, if only you’d give it a shot. It may not have been what you envisioned it to be. What you didn’t want may turn out to be so much better than this.

What seems to be true about most humans is that we strive for things we don’t have. Or rather, strife always comes from a place of wanting something you don’t already have. Why else seek it, right? If you already found the treasure, you have no longing for finding it anymore.

We can’t miss what we never had, not really. Because we don’t know what it’s actually like. But we can miss the feeling of striving for it, this feeling that if you work just hard enough, one day, you may achieve it. We can miss the fantasy of a happily ever after, of a would could have been, if live hadn’t played this way or the other.

Perhaps it’s the loss of a dream.

Perhaps it’s the loss of a reality you thought you could take for granted.

Because the only certainty you have that there is another day is your past experience. No one can foresee the future. We can look back, and make an estimate based on that, on the thousand of miles we have walked since. And sure enough, most of the time, we’ll be just right.

But what if, just one time, we aren’t?

Then yes, you end up missing a lot, you learn to appreciate that which you took for granted. Because it suddenly is no more.

And what’s perhaps most torturous is seeing people achieving and having what you were foolish enough to take for granted. Not because you begrudge them the normalcy they have, the wonder of it. But because you suddenly find yourself standing on the other side, looking in. And you have no way to get through, no way to get to the other side. Because the only thing you see is a shadowy reflection of yourself, promising only that.

A shadow of what you once were.

A paling image of the dreams you used to have.

A faint glimpse at the person you were before all hell broke loose.

And all you can do is look back at it, because we can’t look forward.

Though perhaps that is part of the human condition, too, maybe even the whole of it. Learning to live without the dreams you used to have. Learning to live despite what you are. Learning to strive, even though you know for a fact that you won’t ever make it there. Learning to appreciate to want something, knowing you’ll never have it. Learning that wanting is what keeps us alive, what keeps us human.

Because the moment we no longer want, the moment we no longer care, that is when we give up. And that is indeed the end of the road, no forward and no back.

So it seems that the best we can do is to keep on dreaming.

Because our dreams are what makes us aim at a future, to keep moving forward against all those many odds.

Because our dreams are what makes us human.

And for some of us, that is indeed the dream.

###

Buck chews on his bottom lip as he watches the paramedics of the firefighters bring in the stretcher with a victim from the burning house complex that was all over the news.

Han, Wilson, Nash.

He’s seen those names often on the turnout coats, whenever they help along to transport a patient inside the hospital. So often that it feels like they have been burned into the back of his head. And even covered in dust and soot, they shine brighter than anything Buck has ever seen.

Those are real heroes out there. They save peoples’ lives from impossible situations. They get to do that with their lives.

Isn’t that amazing?

When Buck stands just right, he can see a turnout coat mapped on his own reflection. A pretty little fantasy that he knows he should have long since stopped entertaining.

Because that’s just not where his life is headed.

Not anymore, at least.

Not that Buck has any deeper knowledge of where his life is headed nowadays. He thought he had some idea, at long last, after returning to the U.S. But that’s the funny thing about life. It fucks you over when you least it expect it, and not at all in the kinky way.

He thought he would get to follow a dream.

He thought he would get to follow his heart.

But he thought wrong. Because life is unpredictable, sometimes downright brutal, and all you are left with are reflections, little lies painted on glass, of promises long since forgotten, abandoned, dead.

Buck is pulled out of his thoughts when he feels someone tapping their fingers against his chest.

“Buck, stop staring at people, that’s creepy.”

Swatting the familiar hand away, Buck turns around with a huff. “I’m not staring, I’m observing, Eddie.”

The other man grins as he leans back against the wall. “Yeah, which is another way to say that you’re staring.”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, way too amused about this than Buck would want him to be. Not that he minds, really. He never minds with Eddie.

“Plus,” he continues, his voice trailing off, “there’s better things to direct your attention to.”

Buck whips his head around. “Chris is here?”

Eddie frowns at him, then rolls his eyes. “No, Christopher is at school. Like any boy his age around that time of the day. Duh.”

Heaving another sigh, Buck turns his attention back to the firefighters starting to move out to go on their next mission to fight for life itself. “Then what’s worth my attention?”

Sure, deep down, Buck knows he shouldn’t keep doing it, trying to see himself in a reflection not his. It’s not healthy. He should be better at letting go.

But sometimes, it’s just too tempting to look at the life you may have had, if life hadn’t made you the butt-end of a joke.

Eddie holds a newspaper in front of his face. “Two master bedrooms, a room that can easily be redone as a children’s bedroom. Big, accessible bathroom. No unnecessary stairs. A small garden. And it’s not that far away from the woods you’ve been frequenting anyway. I spoke to the owner, we can look at the house right after work if we want.”

Wrinkling his nose, Buck takes the newspaper from him to skim through the information in print.

“Kind of antiquated, don’t you think?” he snorts, amused. “Of course you’re the one guy to still look through newspapers for that.”

“Well, I got us a house visiting,” Eddie huffs. The newspaper rustles as he takes it back from Buck in a snappish motion.

“I got us the one before that,” Buck argues.

“Yeah, and it was shit.”

“I liked it,” Buck retorts.

Fine, it wasn’t the Four Seasons, but it could have worked just fine. If the landlord stood true to his promise to fix the plumbing in time, that is.

“That’s no high bar. I’ve seen your apartment,” Eddie snorts. “Man cave, more like.”

“Way to motivate a guy. At this rate, I may reconsider moving in with you,” Buck huffs, unable to hide a smile this time.

Eddie only chuckles softly at that. “Oh yeah? Good luck explaining to Christopher why you suddenly don’t want to be roommates with us anymore.”

“You fight very dirty, Dr. Diaz,” Buck replies, narrowing his eyes at him mockingly.

Because yeah, as if.

His life is certainly not what he dreamed it to be, not even by a stretch, but Christopher and Eddie pose the single greatest improvement of the past years. Buck understands that Eddie wants to find the perfect place, he’s like that, always wanting what’s best for his son. But Buck just wants to finally get on with it. He is ready for the next chapter. Which is why he was totally fine with every single apartment or house they looked at before.

So long we’re in this together, we’ll be just fine. The day can’t come soon enough.

“I scheduled an hour after work,” Eddie continues. “So don’t go camping in the children’s ward again and come to the parking lot on time. Or rather, start going five minutes early. Because I know you never get past the nurses without getting drawn into the latest gossip.”

Buck tilts his head to the side. “You know, now you tempted me to take up Tiana on her invitation to a tea party. She said I’d get to pet her unicorn plushie. Imagine that!”

“Almost cute,” Eddie snorts, tapping his arm lightly. “Still, be there on time.”

“Sure thing.” He shrugs. “Now go on break some bones.”

Eddie shakes his head, amused. He hates all those physical therapist jokes with a burning passion. Which makes it Buck’s absolute guilty pleasure to bring them up every damn time.

Eddie pushes away from the glass. “Have fun with the bedpans.”

He gives Buck’s shoulder one last squeeze before walking away again.

Buck looks back down on the newspaper, then at the firefighters still talking to the doctors to give them all the details they need for the guy they just brought in. With a whole ass harpoon through his stomach.

He is not staring, he really isn’t. Buck is just observing, catching glimpses at the things that could have been but never were.

At the man he could have become.

His eyes drift back to the newspaper, reminding himself that those are the things that could be, even if they don’t reflect the light.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Among Us idea: Because I'm a little bit obsessed with game mechanics and glitches in fic...how about a round where one of the Hermits gets left behind? The game ends, and everyone but them is transported to the lobby, but they're just left on an empty ship flying eternally to some destination it will never reach... All the tasks are done. There's nothing left to do. So why is the game still keeping them there? And how do they escape? (It could also be two people left, if writing just one alone would be boring. Your choice who!)

SKSKSKSKSK HOW DO YOU DO THIS I’VE BEEN PLANNING OUT AN IDEA IN MY HEAD FOR THE LAST FEW DAYS IN WHICH TWO PLAYERS ACCIDENTALLY GET LEFT BEHIND HOW DO YOU KEEP READING MY MIND (/lh)

also i had a kind of idea to expand the concept a little bit and i hope that’s okay :)

also also i too love the ideas that utilise glitches or kinda ignore game mechanics; they're always so interesting to write! :D

…

Having finished his tasks a long time ago and not being teleported to any meetings lately, Skizz wanders around the whole ship, trying to find a friend. A buddy. Or literally anyone. But the ship seems deserted.

Finally, Skizz wanders into admin and checks the special table.

To his shock, he finds only two yellow faces on the screen: one in admin and one in cafeteria. So he rushes into the cafeteria and literally bumps into someone coming the other way.

“Oh my gosh, FINALLY,” Impulse breathes. “Where IS everyone?”

Skizz glances away, unable to meet his best friend’s gaze. “We have a problem.”

Impulse frowns. “What?” he asks warily.

“Um…” Skizz rubs the back of his neck. “So… it seems we’re the only two people on the ship.”

It takes a moment for Impulse’s brain to process what his friend just said. “...what?”

“I looked around the whole ship and then went to the admin table. There were only two yellow dots: me and you. There’s literally nobody else anywhere on the ship, dude.”

“But… I…” Impulse blinks. “How is that possible? Did the game end and leave us behind, somehow?”

“I feel like that’s the only possible explanation, but at the same time, it makes no sense.”

“Well, if this IS what happened, it’s gotta be a glitch, right?” says Impulse.

Skizz nods. “Gotta be. But now the question is… how do we get outta here?”

Impulse gazes around the room. “The game always automatically puts us back in the lobby when we’re done, so… I don’t think there’s a way of manually doing it.”

Skizz stares back at him with wide eyes. “You mean we’re stuck in THIS particular ship forever?!”

“W-Well, hopefully not FOREVER,” Impulse responds nervously. “I’m sure they’ll have realised we’re missing by now and they’ll be trying to get us back.”

“But what if they can’t?!” Skizz yelps. “We’ll be trapped in this purgatory forever!”

“Not helping, Skizz,” snaps Impulse. “We’ll be totally fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, like I can have ANY faith in your words anymore,” mutters Skizz, turning away.

Impulse glances sharply at him, sensing that his best friend’s words aren’t about Among Us. Not entirely. “What do you mean?”

Skizz just rolls his eyes and walks off.

Impulse watches him go. Looks like Skizz hasn’t been so quick to forgive and forget after all. Now the way Skizz was acting around him earlier makes sense.

After making a quick trip around the ship, Impulse discovers Skizz sitting leaning against the wall in admin, tossing a stack of ID cards at the wall one at a time.

“Still no way off,” Impulse reports. “Looks like we’re stuck here until they rescue us. Flying through space. On a ship heading to nowhere. An endless journey. With nothing except-.”

“Yes, okay, I get it!” Skizz snaps at him.

After a moment, Impulse leans against the admin table. “Skizz, you’ve been acting weird around me all night. I think we need to talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk.”

“C’mon. We’re stuck here on a ship on our own for the foreseeable future. There’s no better time to talk than now.”

“Okay!” snaps Skizz unexpectedly, jumping to his feet. “FINE! You wanna talk?! I don’t care! You did a LOT of talking back there on 3rd Life and not a word of it was true!”

Impulse frowns. “Is that what this is about?”

Skizz’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “WH- WHAT DO YOU MEAN “is that what this is about”?! You say that like I’m mad at you for stealing my sandwich! Impulse, you LIED to me, BETRAYED me, and then watched Grian KILL me! You told me over and over again that you were on my side and you were loyal to us but you planned to betray us from the start! Y-You planned to betray ME. Do you-” He breaks off with a bitter laugh. “You know what, I was gonna say “do you have any idea how much that hurts?” but you DO, don’t you? Because your own ally turned on you. And murdered you. And you know what? YOU DESERVED IT!”

Impulse can only stare at his best friend with an expression of guilt and sadness.

“I wanted you to go far, dude! I wanted you to win at one point!” Skizz’s voice cracks. “I thought you were the best of us but it turns out you were nothing but a dirty liar and a traitor! I thought “oh, his strategy of playing all sides is pretty smart, actually, but he’s gonna have to pick a side at some point” but I didn’t realise that meant pretending to pick a side and then STABBING THEM IN THE BACK! Of all the- the jerky things to do! You pick the worst one! I-I just don’t understand how you could do that to someone you’ve been a brother to for A QUARTER OF A CENTURY! GOD, you SO deserved to die and the biggest regret of my life is that I didn’t get imposter tonight so I could stab you in the FACE!”

Skizz finally stops talking, breathing heavily. He takes in a deep breath, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Wow… I did not expect to yell that much…”

“I…” Impulse searches for something to say. But he can’t find anything. “I don’t…”

“You don’t have to say anything, Impulse.” Skizz gives a weak smile. “I-I think I just needed to… to let my feelings out.”

“You just needed to yell at me, huh? I get that.”

“Haha, yeah. Remember that time I snuck onto Hermitcraft and did a bunch of reckless things and then died, and you didn’t know if I was gonna respawn or not?”

Impulse nods, a small smile appearing on his face. “That’s what I was indirectly referring to. I think my throat hurt from yelling at you for, like, two weeks after that.”

“Are we even now, then?” asks Skizz.

“Well, I mean… Probably not. I still have a lot to make up for.”

Skizz shakes his head. “No, it… it’s okay. We all did things in that place that we’re not proud of.”

“Even the great Skizzleman?” teases Impulse weakly.

“Oh heck yeah. I still have nightmares about how I violently murdered two of my friends and how bloodthirsty I felt for so long. It freaks me out that I got to that point, man. Even in Among Us when I murder people, even you, I never got THAT bad.”

“Yeah, 3rd Life was…” Again, Impulse searches for the right word. “...an experience. In more ways than one.”

“It really was,” Skizz murmurs, letting out a long breath. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have let it affect Among Us so much.”

“No, it’s okay. And we can-.”

Impulse breaks off Skizz suddenly disappears in front of him. Blinking, he just has time to take a step forward before the admin room vanishes and he finds himself back in the lobby.

With eight people staring at him.

“Oh my gosh, finally!” Tango gasps, grabbing both Impulse and Skizz in a hug. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, dude,” laughs Skizz quietly. “We just yelled at each other a bit, that’s all.”

Impulse chuckles. “Well, it was mostly Skizz doing the yelling.”

“Yeah, true. How did you guys even manage to get us out?”

“The insane genius that is Etho hacked into the code and managed to force the round to end again,” Tango responds. “Somehow. I dunno how. Took us a while to figure out what’d happened, though.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen that glitch before,” Etho chimes in. “There was six left, Grian and Ren double-killed me and Pungence to win, and that should’ve been it. The rest of us respawned in the lobby but we realised you two were missing.”

“Whoa, that’s so weird.” Skizz exchanges a look with Impulse. “Cuz for us, it was like the round just hadn’t ended.”

“Yeah, we’d both done all our tasks and we had no idea anything had happened.”

“What did you guys do?”

Impulse and Skizz shoot each other another look, silently making a mutual decision. “Just talked a bit and tried to look for a way out,” Impulse replies. “That’s all.”

Tango frowns, clearly picking up on the slight tension between them, but he doesn’t mention it. “Okay. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yeah.”

Skizz thinks back to the way he’d exploded at Impulse, and the way Impulse had looked at him with fear in his eyes. All the fury, the despair, the hurt… It had all spilled out at once. Skizz never wants to feel that way again.

“Let’s hope not.”