#The question answer can be summarized in 3 points

[itsgerges]

[creatingblackcharacters]

I am reaching out to Black trans, intersex, and people with a societally-deemed "unconventional" relationship to gender!

I am currently working on a future lesson involving gender and sexuality. But for certain things, I am not comfortable speaking for a community when I think it would be better to let them speak for themselves. I too am still learning (so I ask for grace).

What I want to do is either have a post to link to the lesson with your opinions in the tags/notes, and a summarized section of bullet points to show the range of perspectives on what I'm about to ask you. You don't have to answer all of them (or any if you don't want, it's volunteering). You can even send asks that if you don't want to be published, I will not publish. Succinctness will help me read everyone's responses, I will admit 😅

My questions:

1. What's ONE thing you wish nonblack people would understand the most about your experience?

2. How do you think you see or experience the world and media in comparison to white or nonblack people with a shared gender identity?

3. What's a story you'd like to see of yourself in media? Are there current examples?

[seikkoi]

ꜱᴜɢᴀʀ | dom!tony stark x sugarbaby!reader ( ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ!ᴀᴜ )

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰɪᴠᴇ [1, 2, 3, 4] | ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

There was nothing that could keep Tony from having exactly what he wanted—and he deserved a little sweetness in his life. All he had to do was keep from ruining you in the process.

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. non-canon, non-superhero au, sub/dom undertones, slight emotional/verbal manipulation, obsessive + possessive behavior, age gap (reader described as mid-twenties, t.s as mid-forties), mildly dubious consensual situations, explicit mentions of alcohol and drug use, generally not for the light of heart, rough sexual content, reader described as petite word count: 9.8k

There isn’t any conversation surrounding Pepper’s visit, or the divorce, but it’s all around you regardless.

Random items disappear from the penthouse–a Pollock (your present takes its place), some throw pillows from the study, and a few Turkish ceramics you never knew existed. The phone rings far more than you care for. Tony has far more meetings than you care for. A bespeckled lawyer and his blonde associate nearly become housemates, spending hours behind the frosted glass door. Natasha makes a few appearances as well, which confuses you the most. You find the spice in her perfume too bold.

On her third exit in as many weeks, you question Tony on it. He absently traces patterns on your calves, seemingly not paying attention to you or the film on screen. 

“Should I be worried?” you hide your sincerity behind a glass of wine, twirling the stem between your fingers. The red liquid mirrors the motion inside, spidering against the walls.

“About Natasha?” he asks incredulously. 

“Yes,” you draw out, “and you–all of it, really.” 

“Now why on Earth would you be worrying about me?” 

You would love to point out the obvious and address the building-sized elephant in the room that says  ‘you’re recently sober and just got a divorce’ but the look on his face tells you it’s unnecessary. 

Tony finds a way to answer the unasked anyways. 

“It’s a shit ton of paperwork, and signing things, so it’s annoying, yes but I am fine. Scouts honor.” 

He kisses your hand and grins with all the confidence in the world. It’s so fucking arcane each time–close to magic in how it undos every worry and mirrors his gleam. 

You wished it had more permanent effects. Something long-lasting and memorable. Easy to spread over the evening and into the early morning hours, when he’s inconsolable in your arms. You could turn it back into magic words. Banish whatever miasma racked his body and go back to peaceful nights (because you had those at some point, right?).

Being able to ask the hard questions doesn’t mean shit if the answer’s always a dismissive work of fiction. You never learned what caused their separation, or sent ‘everything to shit’ as Tony put it. Not because you didn’t ask, no that question came the same night Pepper did.  Apparently it’s the same driver of every modern American divorce–money. Tony summarizes the event as a fatal disagreement over corporate shares, though like always you feel you’re being told an official story. Clean cut with all messy details chopped away. 

“You don’t have a signature stamp at this point?” you joke.

“Oh no,” Tony’s hands brace your ankles to pull you closer, “ every squiggle needs to be authentic and fresh.”

“Right, how could I assume anything less.” Your eyes roll but you let your legs drape over his lap. 

“Seriously, I’m doing fine–things will calm back down soon.” A gentle squeeze drives the point home. 

A thought crosses your mind. An insecurity, really, but one you haven’t let go since meeting Pepper.

“If it’s like, I don’t know,” you hesitate under Tony’s raised eyebrow, “–I can head back to my apartment if it’s too much.”

Stark Industries was still footing the bill even though you spent less than 10 hours there in the last two months. There’s a fear in overstaying your welcome, or whatever it is you were doing here. Either way, you figured it was less than ideal to have your girlfriend around during a divorce. 

“If what’s too much?” 

“I don’t know, if you need your space right now or–” you answer exasperatedly.

“Honey,” he gives a hearty laugh, “if I ever start asking for space, call a doctor.”

All resistance becomes futile.

You keep your apartment (for unnecessary security), but more time lapses between visits. You issue a long overdue farewell to bartending. Even being driven, the commute to that side of town is hellish and the whole thing got more pointless with each day. You drank in the fruits of this life, but not without a tiny bit of unease. It’s unease that you bury down under all the other feelings. The affection, the simplicity, the serenity. So you swap mixers for paintbrushes and solitude for the man you love. 

Other subtle changes require a quicker adjustment, but you’re getting dangerously good at adapting. With Tony’s birthday past, you recognize a pattern to Harley’s visits. Every three months like clockwork. You begin to anticipate them well enough, and start appreciating his occasional presence during your early morning tea. By his third appearance, you brew two cups.

On the first visit he barely utters a word. You were ready for some witty insult that never came, and offered him a cup in silence. You want to ask why he arrives so early just to sit in his father’s kitchen, but opt for peace instead. 

Once Pepper’s placard is gone in the parking garage and Natasha stops showing up (at all hours of the day, atleast), he’s there a second time. 

“How he’s doing with the,” he trails off, peering at you over an empty mug as the sun starts to break. He doesn’t need to motion at the empty space for you to pick up his meaning.

The official story is dancing on your tongue. The one you’ve told two times over at this point (Jarvis, Natasha). He's perfectly fine, better even. It was a piece of cake then, but now you can’t seem to look Harvey in the eye and speak in half-truths. 

“Honestly,” you sigh, “Good–not good, I don’t know.”  You were dying under  the irony of it all. Consoling Tony in the darkness of morning and then watching him make million dollar deals by noon. You don’t know how he’s managing any of it, and if any of this qualifies as okay. 

Green eyes blink slowly through an overgrown fringe. Barbers were clearly scarce in the last three months, wherever he spent them. Exhaustion forces a yawn before he speaks again, pinching his nose. 

“Figured as much.” Harley stands for the sink.

He goes through the labor of washing the ebony cup, a rare quirk amongst the obscenely rich. You’d learned they are very reliant upon their quiet servants. You wondered if he did it out of modesty or good manners.  

“Do you know why they separated?” If he was in the mood to talk about Tony, you weren’t going to pass up the chance.

“Uh, something with the company, her share or whatever. Always about the money with them.” he answers casually, tossing a look over his shoulder. 

It’s genuine enough, but all too similar to the rehearsed lines. You half-expected him to call you nosy. 

“No real loss there.” Harley adds, a hint of disdain in his voice

“Not a fan I take it?” The flimsy tag finally crumbling under your ministrations.

He chortles as he slumps back into the bar stool. 

“Pepper can be, uh,” A yawn and an eye rub take precedence, “overbearing, yeah that’s a good word for it.”

“Yeah, can’t imagine that worked well for Tony.” You murmur into your tea.

“Oh it most definitely did not.” Harley laughs again. “Not for a guy that does the opposite of whatever you tell him.”

His laugh is infectious (like father like son), and you smirk even though instead the mental picture makes you cringe. A lull passes between you. Outside, morning traffic begins, trickling upwards to interrupt the quiet. It cues Harley to get back to whatever it is he comes here to do, while you move on with the day. 

As an advantage of all the free time, you get to invest more time in your estranged friendships. Being around old friends turned out to be surprisingly good. You had anticipated more awkwardness, but there was something comforting about not having to wear a mask for once around someone besides your boyfriend. 

At this point, you slowly filled in a few close ones about your relationship with Tony. Clearly you were in this for the long haul, and keeping things under wraps was becoming futile. The general consensus was positive, thankfully. Obviously, that’s due to a great deal of details being omitted. The act left a sour taste in your mouth. Not from the content–how easy it was. You hated to repeat such behaviors, but it was less complicated this way. You wouldn’t have to labor through justifying your relationship, or hear concerns you didn’t already have. 

Tony’s reception was, oddly, less positive. He didn’t care much for your old ‘starving artist’ clique. He thought you should take advantage of his access to New York’s greatest–the real pioneers. It took little arguing from you for him to drop that thought entirely, and he conceded to just be happy to see you happy. 

Like good friends, they tease about your newfound love. One asks when they’ll get to meet ‘Mr. CEO’ and you have to brush it off casually. You like your worlds better separate. 

A sweltering autumn soon becomes frostbitten winter. This gives you less light to work with, resorting to find shuddering shoulders in complete darkness. You don’t think it’s worth searching for warmer pastures or a simpler life. No, you order a cashmere robe and get used to seeing by touch. 

Late nights in the tower turn out to be a great place to hone such skills. The halls are narrow and void of any windows, so you ghost the pads of your fingers around for customary shapes. A cushioned nook and a neglected book lull you into a nap one evening and you wake past the sunset. If you were able to sleep so late undisturbed, Tony must be preoccupied. You planned to tiptoe into the kitchen without a sound, but your ears catch words murmured behind the glass. The door is cracked slightly, just enough to let a streak of light breaks across the hardwood floor

“–fifteen, ten, maybe if we’re lucky.” 

The bespeckled man’s words are measured, precise as usual. You can almost picture his lips barely parting to utter syllables behind round-trim frames. 

“Jesus christ–the fuck am I paying you for? Because I am paying you, like a metric shit ton” 

At Tony’s voice, you press closer. 

“I’m not the idiot getting a divorce.”

“Okay, okay, let’s just stay focused here.” Natasha raises her voice above the two men, and you hear a chair drag across the office.

“Uh-uh, don’t think you’re getting off scot free–we wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you did your job a tad better too.” 

“I will say it was ‘lot easier to spread the financials between two people.” 

Social norms concerning privacy start to get to you, urging your feet to pivot and take you back upstairs. Your escape goes undetected, and you seek refuge in the shower. 

You wash the day away under warm jetstreams. Part of your mind is stuck replaying everything, wondering how he was handling it all, trying not to indulge in the urge to check the sink drawer. In a flash, you toss the thought away. It’s easy to not overthink at this hour. Especially when coconut vanilla soap tugs you back towards exhaustion. You make it back out to the bedroom, where you find Tony removing his shoes at the end of the bed.

He smiles at the crack of light from the bathroom. Tony’s days were getting longer while the rest of the hemisphere’s got shorter. He would say he missed when life was simple, but he can’t remember such a time. Life growing up was anything but simple, then the older he got the more it sucked out every ounce of his energy. Everything after became, well, everything after.

Picturing a new future keeps him going. One in a coastal city, something global like New York but much, much warmer. He fights the urge to picture your silhouette amongst the waves. It’s not guaranteed. He might find himself in this dreaded cycle all over again. Then his coconut scented fantasy would be tarnished. 

No, it’s better to cherish the present with you. Like right now, watching coconut scented water droplets descended down your legs and shoulders. Even though he knows he won’t be here long. Truly, he’d wish you weren’t awake,  knowing he’d have to leave soon.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You teased, abandoning your towel as you pulled the dresser open.

He’s easy to rile up, and you know exactly what you’re doing–bending over slowly to pull your panties above your hips. You can’t help it when he stares like it’s his first time seeing you, every time. 

“Please don’t tempt me.” 

Tony’s voice is low, barely above a whisper. He’s unmoving on the edge of the bed, hands braced beside his thighs as his eyes follow the movements of your hands around lacy black fabric. Truly he’s perplexed. Who knew watching someone get dressed would be just as much of a turn-on. Or maybe it’s just you.

You toss one of his faded band tees on, and he thinks this might actually be better than any sun-soaked dream (it’s definitely just you). 

You cross the bedroom, the loose cotton brushing against your skin with each step. As you approach, you snake your arms around Tony's neck and straddle his lap. His large hands ghost up the smooth skin of your thighs, leaving a trail of warmth as they make their way to your back. The moment your skin touches his, Tony’s eyes lock onto yours, but you can tell his focus is elsewhere.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask softly, raking your hands through brown coils.

You assume his mind is still on the conversation downstairs, but the grin spreading on his face says otherwise. His lips move to pepper your exposed neck with kisses, still smiling.

“Really wanna know?” 

“Sure, hit me.”

The ghosts across your veins turn into full blown grazes. 

“You, in a bikini, drinking margaritas somewhere with no extradition laws.” 

You chuckle at the notion and swat his shoulder when his teeth find your pulse point. 

“Hey, you asked,” he laughs into your skin, gripping your hips tighter, “besides it’s your fault–’smell like I’m damn near there already.” 

Tony’s mouth turns hungrier and hungrier, moving feverishly across every exposed inch until the flesh is tender and you're panting in his lap. It’s just encouragement, so he doesn’t pause for a moment as his fingers slip behind your lace. They work at the wetness already ruining the fabric, dragging it across your length and making your shiver. 

Okay, sure, maybe another period of minimal alone time was getting to you, maybe. Sue me, you thought. Honestly, Tony should be more grateful to have such a willing partner–and you told him as much. Unfortunately, this elicited a need for Tony to instill a sense of gratitude in you.

In the next second, you're tossed onto your back, wrists pinned tightly above your head. His other hand pulls your panties down your legs and you try not to make a joke about the futility in getting dressed. Instead, you soak his weight against you, the roaming hand between your thighs and teeth on your neck. 

Marking you is the obvious goal-sucking harder with each breathy whimper. He wasn’t kidding earlier, either. You smelled good enough to devour and he intended on doing so. His danced along your folds, a cufflink scratching the supple skin at the top of your thigh.  They are never anywhere long enough to give you any real pleasure. Just to take more breath from your lungs and feeling from your legs. 

You squirm against vicuna dress pants, trying to gain more friction on his hand. Instead of catering to your needs, he stops all together and the noise you make is almost pathetic. Who are you kidding, it’s fully pathetic–it couldn’t have been over two weeks, and pleas can hardly form on your tongue for more. 

Tony reels back with a smirk that flips your stomach. A scheme is brewing behind darkened pupils. His eyes stay on you as his hand returns to your center, slow and heavy over your clit. 

He doesn’t relent when your wrists strain and hips buck against him. No, a tighter grip and knee over your hip hold you steady enough for his fingers to work faster. You want to chastise yourself for how much you missed this–then two fingers slide into you and there isn’t room to think of much else.

He moves quickly and silent, like a serpent, finding that perfect rhythm that makes your eyes flutter. Your soft moans fill the quiet space. He’s too steady, not changing a muscle as your peak comes closer. The most desperate you get, writing against his palm to get even one extra inch of depth, the slower he moves. 

“Did you have fun sneaking around?” 

Your eyes flutter open in the dim bedroom, Tony’s sly grin shining above you. It cuts straight through the fog of pleasure taking you over. 

“I don’t know what you’re–” you start to bluff. 

“You’re not very sneaky, you know? Or a good liar. That’s a particular skill set that you, my dear, sorely lack.”  Slow and teasing, he slides two fingers back into you.

“Okay, okay. Maybe I was eavesdropping a little.” He finally moves with purpose again, but of course not enough.

“A little? Let’s not start underrepresenting things, hm?” 

Before you can debate him further, he withdraws and you think you might honestly cry if this continues.

“Okay, point taken, would you please stop torturing me now?” 

“Now, why would I reward bad behavior?” he asked, lowering his gaze.

“If it helps, I wasn’t trying to.”

“It doesn’t.” 

His palms grip your hips, flipping you onto your stomach and lifting your waist upwards. The sudden movement leaves you breathless, searching for balance on your forearms until they’re pulled behind your back. 

“You know exactly which nerve to press, don’t you?” he breathes into the base of your neck, chest flush to your back as he hands work at his zipper.

How ironic, considering he spends the next hour tuning your body like an instrument. Knowing exactly where to press, where to ease off, until you finally unlock, bare and moaning into the mattress.

Afterwards, you fall asleep to the steady beat of his heart. 

You’re half way to sleep when Tony slinks out of your arms. At first, you don’t bother stirring. Then, the soft draw of the dresser catches your ear. 

You flip over onto your stomach to get a better view. You watch Tony’s shadowy figure attempt to quietly dress. For a rare sight, he abandons the tailored suit for dark Levis and a t-shirt. It hardly looks like him, in the best way possible (ignoring the obvious question of where the hell he planned on going in that. Less larger-than-life, more real. This, now this was someone you can imagine running into at the grocery store. The sharp edges of his suits always added a degree of gravitas to everything.

“Where are you off to?”

“Going to see a man about a horse.” 

He leans down for a bright smile and a quick kiss before he leaves, and you let sleep suppress any thoughts about what that could possibly mean.

You awake to a sun that has long outran the horizon. The sheer curtains were already pulled back, with the smell telling you Jarvis made a feast for breakfast. Tony’s side is empty. Which is no surprise there, but you don’t expect him at the kitchen table. 

He grins behind a newspaper as you approach. Jarvis is busy with the espresso machine, muttering curses under his breath. 

“Tell me, what are your thoughts on cyclamen–oo, or actually, narcissus, yeah, that’s better.” Tony asks like you've been having some sort of conversation before five seconds ago.

Jarvis clicks the tamper in with a satisfied click as you stare back confused. You’re two blinks away from falling back asleep and desperately craving something stronger than green tea. 

“What are you-Is-Are those restaurants?” 

“Oh, morning ma’am. Shall I prepare you a tea, perhaps breakfast?” Jarvis turns at the sound of your voice, wiping damp grounds from his hands.

“Good morning, but no, just some coffee, please.” You try to sound natural. It’s weird giving someone else orders. 

“Nope, flowers. We could do something simple like a peony but I don’t think that matches the whole vibe with the satin garlands.” Tony continues. 

“Tony, hon, I have no idea what you’re on about right now.” you groggily slouch in the chair beside him. 

“We, my dear,” the newspaper is folded and plopped onto the table for dramatic effect, “are having a Christmas party. The proverbial ‘we’ in this situation being the company, of course.” 

“A Christmas party?” you muse with a laugh.

“For tax purposes, a gala. For my purposes, and therefore to make it fun, it is indeed a party, yes.” 

Espresso warms your veins as you listen to Tony ramble through plans for catering, guests, decanters and a whole bunch of other shit you can hardly keep up with. Good thing that responsibility falls to Jarvis, who jots away on a worn notepad. Once your eyes fully open, the thought starts to excite you. Your yearly festivities normally boiled down to a bottle of chardonnay and some loosely Christmas film like Die Hard. “Plus, if I auction some art, it works out even more.” He punctuates his brilliant plan with a bite of a muffin. 

“That’s not like a massive trigger for you?” 

High-volume social events dropped off the radar recently, for good reason, you assumed (not that you minded a break from fake smiles and cold handshakes) . Instead, Tony dragged you along to more intimate dinners with whatever broker or councilwoman he needed to charm. Your role as plus-one never went anywhere, but doing so at Tony’s your home would give you more confidence. 

“What are you, my sponsor?” he teases but you're less amused at the thought. 

“You don’t even have a sponsor.” You know so, because Tony believes Narcotics Anonymous is a, quote, ‘sad-ass glorified tea party’. 

“I have Jarvis.” He’s completely serious, and Jarvis hides his laughter behind a stack of plates.  

You don’t want to point out the obvious cognitive dissonance. That a man who spends his nights in petrified somnolence might crack under the pressure of dozens of inebriated colleagues. Not now, in a moment of peace. Not in front of Jarvis. You’re not sure how much sound slips out into the hall.

Tony watches the worry creep over your face from the edge of his newspaper. With a sigh, he abandons it again.

“Look, all you have to do is look pretty–which is no sweat for you, maybe drink a few apple cider cocktails, and relax. I’ve got everything else perfectly handled.”

He gives you a look, both reassuring and decisive. It’s a simple message meant to be taken without debate, ‘trust me’. 

You get one more peaceful morning drinking tea in the dark with Harley before the holiday season.

The event overtakes your life from Thanksgiving onward. You really don’t know how this sudden festive fervor spawns, but it slowly creeps into everything. From the elevator music, to miniature elves by the door, to candy canes everywhere, and more Christmas ties than days in December (you can’t be sure he’s not switching them multiple times a day). 

You weren’t a total Grinch, not by a long shot. Tony just so happened to be creeping into that weird overly festive zone reserved for suburban moms and kindergarten teachers. 

“Tony, what’s all of this?”

Vivaldi plays faintly on the record player. There’s a delicately placed mistletoe just off of the elevator, accompanied with a haphazard trail of roses leading out onto the balcony. You navigate through a candlelight kitchen juggling a heavy box of resin. 

“Tony?” you call out again once the box makes contact with the counter,

“Out here!” 

You follow the voice and rose trail to the balcony. Unsurprisingly, he’s donning a god awful Christmas sweater, grinning and pointing to the wool like it’s runway fashion. A small table holds two covered silver platters, and a tall bottle of champagne rests in a bucket of ice. It’s the kind of overtly romantic display you’d gotten since night one, but it never fails to sink your breath straight in your heart. Something about the way he’s standing there, beaming like a nervous, lovestruck fool, tells you this isn’t just a normal gesture of affection.

Still, your lips part to thank him, but he stops you instantly. 

“Just wait–” he pleads, “I got like thirty minutes of practice into saying this and I can’t fuck it up.” 

His voice is rushed enough that you believe. Clearly the words were threatening to jump out of him. It sets you a bit on edge, trying to anticipate what this was about. You indulge him anyway and nod. 

Tony crosses the balcony to take your hands in his, thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

“Okay, I know things haven’t been copacetic around here. And I know I’ve asked for a lot–more than I ever thought I would–and you know sometimes it feels like I’ll never be able to return what you’ve given to me, but I swear I’m going to make this worth it.” 

He squeezes your palm, tired brown eyes searching yours for something, any sign that his words meant a single thing. It’s a fast-winded speech that makes you wanna laugh at the irony. Tony, the man who’d move the stars if they had a price tag, somehow feeling the need to repay you.  Yet his voice is raw like a frayed nerve. Exposed to the cold winds whipping against the tower glass. 

“Tony, you’ve made it more than worth it, everyday.” You smile, though it’s worth wondering what’s driving him to say all this. The words ring true regardless.

“Not nearly enough,” he says softly, “but I’m going to–I’m going to give you the world.”

In that moment, you see it: the weight of everything he’s been carrying. Your ribs seem to tighten inside your chest. That unspoken fear you’ve both been trying to avoid–it was far easier twenty seconds ago when you thought it was yours alone. You realize now that the fearless man you saw in fact was scared of something (losing you, primarily). Yeah, you comforted him through nightmares, but even then he managed to carry an aura of control.  

This wasn't about  holding onto the life you’ve built together, the one that’s felt so fragile lately. And for the first time, you see how much that matters to him, too.

He starts to say something else, dropping your hands. His fingers fiddle behind his back, seemingly nestled in his back pocket. He stares like he intended to say something else, lips parting and closing right back. In the next second, he seems to shift gears, pulling you into a hug. 

You welcome the warm embrace, as the chill has started to gnaw at your bones. He plants a kiss to the top of your head, and you want to stay in that feeling for the rest of your life.

Sadly, he does eventually pull away to admit dinner on the balcony would be quite miserable, and the two of you move inside. 

You could spend the rest of the evening overthinking about what all that meant, but you don’t bother. Why go through that mental labor, when instead you could drink $500 champagne, carefree while your handsome boyfriend flirts with you like it’s the first date. 

You don’t think about it then, or later in the night when your legs are pressed to your chest and you can’t recall a single thing he said. You focus on what he’s saying then–filthy words about who you belong to, and exactly where you belong–a whimpering mess underneath him.

Even when it turns possessive (more so than usual), when your throat is littered with marks and his hand stands to leave another on his hip, you don’t think of it. But it’s the only thing on Tony’s mind. When another orgasm rips through you, all he can think about is how much he needs you. He whispers ‘you’re mine’ over and over and over as you fall apart just so your broken moans can still echo–so he can hear just how true it is. How could you, with such a dutiful guide at the helm?

Afterwards, when you’re drained of every ounce of life, it still doesn't bother you. You don’t wonder if tonight might be another night he slips into plain clothes and disappears until sunrise. You can’t muster a single thought as his arm slinks around your waist to pull you closer. 

You simply close your eyes, and let sleep take you. 

Eventually the days tick by to the gala, and you’re somewhere between impressed and overstimulated with all the ensuing holiday glamor. 

Though, you can’t say he doesn’t go all out. 

The first floor of Stark Industries is transformed from a cold minimalist space to Ebenezer Scrooge's worst nightmare. A makeshift stage sits at one end, complete with enough tinsel to suffocate a horse and twinkling garlands. Piles of fake snow anoint the corners, and a particularly large one sits beneath a 12-foot tall Christmas tree in the middle of the lobby. The open bar even serves drinks in frosted holiday glasses. He even has the guards wearing reindeer ears. 

By ten p.m. the vast floor seems smaller than a shoebox, packed with guests in evening gowns and tailored tuxedos. Initially, you’d planned on wearing a new piece for the gala–something to make the overwhelming festivity Tony demanded. Once it came time to get dressed, your eyes caught the sanguine dress. You hadn’t gotten the chance to wear it since your first date. It had felt too exquisite for any other occasion, but for some reason you were drawn to wear it tonight. 

You wish you could say Tony had a good reaction–or a reaction at all. From sunrise until the doors opened, he’s caught up in planning and preparations. Matter of fact, you were two hours into the gala and had only seen glimpses of him shaking hands in the crowd. It takes away from the expected familiarity. You imagined this night to be simple, easy for you to blend it with Tony on your arm, in his home your home. Instead, you wander like a lost gazelle, feeling every pair of eyes on you. You want to blame the dress. Revealing and bright red.

In the blurry swarm of faces, bright auburn stands out. Natasha wouldn’t be your first pick, but she’s the only familiar face and you need a respite.

You squeeze in next to her at one of the corner tables. The spice of her perfume permeates your nose but you can look past it for the moment. She pays you no mind at first, legs crossed and head turned to the crowd. You don’t mind one bit. It’s quieter towards the back, and you have no issue with it staying that way. 

Natasha sighs deeply, almost in boredom, maybe annoyance, but not with you. 

“I don’t know how you stand him.”

“How do you figure?” you respond absently, picking apart at a stray piece of tinsel.

“One of the richest men on Earth-I know he’s got the ego to match it.”

“You’d know better than I would, wouldn’t you?” you answer. You’d gotten the sense Natasha and Tony back way further than him and Pepper a while ago,

“Touche, but I’m not dating him.” she shifts to take another sip from her glass, “though, I’m not really sure why you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you really love him, or are you just after a family fortune?” Emerald eyes points like knives, her tone blending from casualty to scorn.

“W-what,” you stammer, “Of course I love him–Tony pursued me.”

“Please, he’d pursue anything with a pulse,” Natasha chuckles, “and relax, I’m just finally getting around to doing my due diligence.” 

“Your ‘due diligence’ is being a cunt?”

“Ooh! I see you’re a feisty one–you did sit here after all, you know.” she muses.

“Just needed a break from the crowd,” you mummer, rising. 

“Stay then–relax, like I said.” she gestures towards your now-empty seat. When you sigh and retake your place, she smiles. “I like you, you know.”

“We’ve barely spoken.” you declare, a dry chuckle spewing alongside. 

“That doesn’t mean I don’t know a smart person when I see one.” 

“Smart?”

“Smart decisions, going out with Tony, not screwing that up, though I’ve been told you’ve come close a few times.”

“Who–”

“This isn’t an interrogation, like I said, I like you–I don’t really care what happens between you two.”

“Then what is this?” you flag the nerdy tuxedoed waiter for a glass of water. 

“You said it yourself, we’ve barely spoken. My job is to keep Tony’s business running smoothly, and that’s become a lot harder since he won’t make a single decision without considering the ‘y/n’ of it all.” 

You scoff, unimpressed. “We don’t talk about his business.”

“Oh, I know,” Natasha remarks, “A bartender has no idea how to run a billion dollar corporation, and even less of an idea how to advise one.” 

“This is the part where you tell me I have no business being with him, right?” The waiter drops off a tall pitcher of water for you both. Once your glass is full, he passes along a message that Tony’s speech starts soon. 

“Dear god no,” Natasha laughs, “I imagine you’ve heard that enough–and he’s much more pleasant since you came around. Besides, you’re living the dream.” 

“Is that so?” You have to give a laugh of your own (considering you had a bit of jealousy buried for her). 

“Oh yes, filthy rich, live in a penthouse, never work another day in your life, loving husband–maybe not my dream, but still a dream.” 

You don’t know if she’s trying to be funny but your next laugh is genuine, and she joins in.

“What is your dream, then?” you question.

Natasha’s grin stiffens, surprised. Contemplation passes for a second and you worry that you’ve underdone the last three minutes of camaraderie. 

“Ballet teacher–but that stays at this table.” She gives you a matching pointed look.

“My lips are sealed.” You do try not to giggle, but it’s odd to imagine her frigidity in a warm lit studio surrounded by tutus. 

“Did you mean it, what you said about Tony? That things are...okay?” Natasha asks, referring to Tony’s sobriety. It’s weird how everyone dances around it, especially someone so usually straightforward as her. 

It was weeks ago when you parroted that claim. And you only call it that because the question annoys the fuck out of you. It’s entirely subjective, and you give in to the optimistic look in their eye and tell them what they want to hear. He’s fine, better even.

Maybe it’s because she’s being nice, or because you already gave up this facade with Harley, but you can’t be bothered to pretend you know what’s going on with him all the time. Besides, clearly you weren’t doing a good enough job for her to ask you about it again

“I want to say yes, but I don’t know, I guess?” you admit, staring into the crowd. 

Natasha’s mouth parts to speak again, only to have the microphone’s feedback interrupt her. The host–some Nobel prize winning chemist Tony invited to pull donors–clears his throat before starting his introduction, and the noise draws to a lull. Natasha excuses herself, presumably to find Tony before his speech. You decide to stay at the back of the lobby, with a good enough view of the stage. 

Supposedly this entire sordidly festive affair had a true business purpose, some big announcement Tony was making on the ‘future of the company’. He didn’t explain much more than that, and you’re certain the technical logistics were beyond you anyway. 

After a long, boring welcome, the mic is passed off to Tony. It’s the first time today you’ve been able to see him fully–draped in a jet black tuxedo and bright red bowtie. 

It whines again in his grip, and Tony pauses once the cheers die down, glancing at the expectant faces below. Thick cards press into his palm, each written meticulously inked by Natasha last night He clears his throat, glancing out past the lights into the crowd. He hopes they can’t see how heavy the stillness starts to weigh on him like before. The sudden quiet, all that attention. Including yours, somewhere out there. His heart stalls at how must look to you up here. Larger than life probably, or maybe you weren’t looking at all (he hopes you aren’t). A hundred odd pairs of eyeballs, and he hides from yours. 

Tony knew what he had to do, and was quite confident in his choice. But he can’t risk looking you in the eye while he does it. Ironically, his decision had very little to do with you, and everything to do with Pepper. The edge of his mouth still twitches. 

“Tonight…” he starts, turning the twitch into a warm smile, “…I’ve asked you all to be here in celebration, to celebrate Stark Industries, and talk about the future of the company,” He clears his throat, rolling his shoulders as if trying to loosen some unseen knot.

There’s a small, brief ripple of confusion among the front of the room, murmurs. Something shifts in his expression—just a flash—before his eyes catch something and harden. A gesture is made to the guard at the end of the stage. His hand tightens around the mic.

“To keep things transparent,” he says, stuffing the cards into his pocket, “the real reason I threw this party, asked you all to be here, is because I want everyone to see how much this means to be.”

Your ears perk up. Natasha swears under her breath, glancing at you before sharply leaving the table, tapping away at her phone. Tony can’t hide from your gaze anymore, and he finds your confused face in the back corner. Before you think about a path to escape, the crowd follows his attention, taking their eyes from the billionaire to the nobody fiddling with tinsel alone.

“I want to celebrate the love I have for this woman, and take this opportunity to share it with everyone.” 

What the hell is he doing?, you think. He can't be doing this here, like this. 

“The truth is,” he pauses, feeling his phone buzz off the hook (most certainly Natasha telling him to stop), “I’m getting married, and Stark Industries will be welcoming a new partner in its operations.”

The room erupts in a chorus of oos and awes, all to the tune of your racing heart. It takes you a second to process. He means getting married to you. You never even talked about marriage, the future, anything like that. Yeah, maybe in passing the idea came up, but at no point did you accept a marriage proposal. 

Everything feels nauseatingly blurry after. Random individuals come over with their congratulations, while half the crowd stares and the other half still bothers to listen to the rest of Tony’s speech. It’s a bunch of nonsense about restructuring and profits, and you’re too confused, pissed, and too fed up with fake smiles to bother standing around to listen. 

You suffer through two more superficial conversations about the marriage you were only made privy a few minutes ago. Finally, you escape to the restroom. You find an empty stall to hide in, trying to process what was going through Tony’s mind.

He couldn’t be serious, could he? This wasn’t real–it was some ploy or tactic. He didn’t genuinely intend to marry you. You didn’t like to think of the long-term for the same reasons you didn’t think about the short-term. This was unpredictable, you learned that. You learned to be okay with that. You could soak in the pleasures indefinitely without ever worrying about how it might all end. This, this brought it into a sharp focus you weren’t ready for. 

You’re not even certain he’s fully divorced yet. 

Once your palms finally dry, and the threat of a panic attack fades, you step out of the restroom. You don’t even know what to think, and the sterile walls weren’t helping. Glancing back toward the gala, you spot Tony scanning the room—until his eyes find yours. You don't hold his gaze long; instead, you turn sharply toward the elevator. You hear your name faintly called from somewhere behind, but you keep moving down the hall, ignoring it.

He breaks into an awkward jog to catch you. You keep your eyes forward.

“[Y/N], look I know this wasn’t what you were expecting, and I can explain I just need–” he starts,

“You’ve lost your fucking mind, Stark,” Natasha heels stomp angrily down the hall, stepping in front you to point her finger in Tony’s face, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Alright, alright, not you right now–cut it out!” He smacks her hand away flippantly, “I’m not entirely sure you and Matt haven’t been drinking the kool-aid either.” 

Tony huffs and straightens his bowtie and you step back from Natasha’s heat. Behind the three of you, someone gets their hands on a karaoke machine and a terrible rendition of Santa Baby follows.

“The whole point of this bullshit was to go public and get out of this shit so explain to me how this gets us anywhere closer to that?” She grits.

Tony throws his hands in the air, “Maybe it doesn’t, but your dumbass plan wasn’t any better.”

“You think marrying her is going to help you? You know I was joking when I said that, right?” 

Suddenly, a spotlight seems to beam over you. Neither party stops their death glare to fully acknowledge you. That wasn’t a proposal–you were just some pawn in their game.

You don’t even know what the hell they’re playing for.

“This is a great time to remind you who signs your checks.” 

Only then do her eyes bother to glance at you. 

“This isn’t gonna end well, and you know it.” She concedes, still stern. After that, she stomps back off into the crowd. 

Tony turns towards you, but you're already back at the elevator, watching the buttons finally reach L.

“[Y/N], please–” 

The doors ding open and you don’t stop to hear anymore. Despite your feverous attempt to close the doors, Tony makes his way inside. The door just barely misses his coattail, to your annoyance.   

Even worse, and completely on par for the evening, the jingle bells elevator music plays the moment the doors shut. 

A hard, awkward beat passes. You’re pinching the bridge of your nose, sparsely emptied of any more energy for this night (mentally or otherwise). 

“You look fucking stellar, by the way, love that dress–”

“Tony.”

“Right, you’re right, sorry.”

Neither of you spare another word from the elevator to the bedroom. Tony follows behind, closing the door softly as you toss your earring onto the dresser. You’re waiting for him to speak again. Explain, deflect–hopefully just explain, but he doesn’t. He sits at the end of the bed, eyes trained to you in the mirror. 

“Why didn’t you ask me? Alone? Before today?” you sigh, “

“I wanted to, I was going to, the other night on the balcony I just–” he answers quickly, but trails off in a way that has you turning to face him instantly.

You don’t doubt that for a second. Truthfully, the level of effort and random heartfeltness of the night gave you some clue. But, when it never came you just chalked it up to Tony being Tony. Painfully romantic in most conditions. 

“You just what, didn’t want to?” There’s anger, though you know it's hypocritical. 

“No I just,” he exhales, dragging his fingers through slicked back hair, “I knew you’d say yes.”

“You knew I’d say yes? What the hell does that mean?” Your necklace joins the rest of your jewelry with a loud clink. 

“This is coming out all wrong–”

“You think?” The six inch heels are the next thing to go, throwing haphazardly in the closet. Tony rises to cut you off in front of the door, eyes pleading for understanding you’re not sure you have. 

“I saw the look in your eye, I’d done so much to make sure you’d say yes in that moment because I needed you to–not because I wanted it and that wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.”

“You don’t know that I’d say yes.”

“You would,” he says with that practiced charm, all sunny but hollow. A trademark Stark move—confidence teetering on arrogance. When you hesitate, he’s ready with another word, a gaze intense enough to hypnotize. “You know you would.”

You laugh, looking away as if it’s absurd. “Are you really so sure?”

His hand slips into yours, gentle but firm, thumb brushing across your knuckles in a way that makes it seem like he’s talking to you, only you, and not the thousand voices in his head screaming at him to get this done. 

“I know you’re scared, but” he says, leaning into your warmth. “Don’t leave me hanging here, please.”

“You sound so desperate, it’s kind of sad.” 

But there’s a softness to your voice now, a hint that he might be getting through. For a moment he was worried he wouldn’t be able to get away with this again, that you’d learned all his tricks since the boutique. 

It’s enough of a crack in your resolve for him to keep pushing. He slips closer, voice low. 

“Look, I know I keep asking a lot of you, but, There’s a pause, just long enough to let the ache in his voice sit, before he adds, “this could fix everything, everything can be okay.”

There’s a sliver of doubt in your eyes, and that’s what he clings to. 

“And when was the last time everything was okay, Tony?” You watch him in the bureau’s mirror. 

 “It could be. All I need for you to do is say yes, so I can fix this,” He squeezes your hand, the hint of desperation all but veiled now. 

And when you finally exhale, when that flicker of sympathy slips in, he knows he’s won.

It’s good enough. Better than he hoped, honestly. The relief slides into him like a tonic, loosening the tight lines in his jaw. He keeps his hand on yours, knowing the warmth of it will serve to distract from the creeping dread, from the hollow pit that’s been widening ever since the stakes got so high he couldn't see the top of them.

For Tony, this is all still just a means to an end. One step closer to true liberty and the life he was supposed to have. If he had to lie and disappoint–cheat and charm, then he’d do it. It would be worth it. In the end, the sum of his achievements would outweigh his sins.

He reminded himself of that a month ago, the night before he decided to have the gala. When the bedroom door closes, a sigh of relief escapes. He was lucky that you didn’t catch the conversation with Matt and Natasha in full. What he had in the works was sensitive, and he couldn’t have that ruined by anyone knowing the details in advance. He couldn’t lose you again, not when he needed you most. 

There is a shred of guilt as the elevator whirs down to the garage. You’re probably thinking the worst, understandably, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Only to pray his love was enough to placate you for now. 

Especially when he doesn’t even want to fucking do this. Each day seems to come at the loss of his autonomy, another suit on his payroll telling him what’s best for his life. It’s more deplorable when the people closest to him come up with the shittiest ideas to fix this. He can truly thank Pepper for his recent migraines (and a bunch of old ones). Filing for divorce was quite a move to try to get what she wanted, and throw him to the mercy of the Securities and Exchange Commission at the same time. If you listen to Matt, Tony’s mere minutes away from a cold cell. If you listen to Nat, Tony’s plummeting stock will be the sealer of his fate. And as of right now, two of the smartest people he knows can’t come up with anything that doesn’t come at the cost of you or his company. And he can’t live with either. 

Since, both their solutions arguably suck, he tells a lie or lack thereof to find a third opinion. Or a hail mary. However it’s called, it’s a long shot that he can’t be certain won't jeopardize him even more. 

The drive to Hudson Valley is peaceful, to the point he forgets his world is on fire. It’s late, or early, depending on who you ask. Few cars grace the road and he finds solace in the solitude. The radio is ignored for the repetitive rumble of the tires, until paved tar turns into rough gravel. 

When Pepper sent over the address, he wasn’t too surprised. She always rambled about moving out of the city, dreaming of cabins in the woods and sprawling hills. Tony could never wrap his head around living anywhere else. In retrospect, that was another early omen. They never even shared the same dream. 

He can’t say it doesn’t look impressive. A dark a-frame that strikes beautifully against the earthen spruce. Maybe that is why she had him drive all the way out here and not somewhere in the city. Part of masterplan to show him what she presumes he’s missing out on. 

The porch lights flicker on once he parks, and he makes his way up the stone path to find Pepper sitting just outside the door. She’s preoccupied with a thick novel, acknowledging Tony with the raise of a finger. 

It’s strange, being alone with her for the first time in years. She’s not dressed in Valentino but tattered college sweats he had forgotten about. Seeing her at the penthouse all those months ago was troubling, but this was different. Here, it’s too quiet. Even though he’s a few paces away from the table, he can hear the tension of her nails against the pages–the swirl of wind through her hair. Sure, she can’t control the environment but he knows this is a calculated move too. To make him wait, make him uncomfortable. Every other sense sharpens in the absence of constant noise. Norway spruce and duplicity. 

He’s losing his nerve and he needs this over. 

“Why the hell’d you make me drive this far out anyway?” He tries to keep a level voice, knowing she wouldn’t hesitate to use his irritation against him. 

“It’s the one place I’m certain your little spy hasn’t found yet.” she murmurs.

Okay, fine, so he’d used his son to spy on his ex-wife. Big deal, he couldn’t be certain she wasn’t doing the same. Plus, Harley had offered to keep an eye on her. It was a matter of security, not personal (mostly). 

“Can we get on with this?”

“I suppose,” she sighs, tossing the book onto the table. The thud reverberates, stark against the stillness of the valley. “But I’m not sure what it is you want from me–you did call me after all.”

“I did.” And he’s regretting it every second.

“So, what can I do for you?”

“You can start by accepting the deal Murdock sent, and let this be over.” 

Pepper chuckled, crossing her legs. “What are you playing at, Tony?”

“I’m not playing at anything–this needs to be over, you need to move on.”

“Oh please, don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffs, “this is all very rich considering you’ve held me in litigation for months, you rejected my offers over and over, so why the sudden change of heart?”

A cold chill and burning annoyance pull him closer to the table. 

“Yes, because I should just give you forty-five percent of my company–I can get it gift-wrapped too if that makes it all the better.”  

“That’s right, your ego won’t let you admit I’m the only reason you have a company to speak of.”

“Can’t you find an ounce of compassion in that gaping pit you call a soul, for me?”

“Such harsh words from someone who needs something from me.” Pepper smirks and stands once the heat recedes from Tony’s face. 

“Take the twenty percent, finalize the papers, and end this, or else there won’t be anything for either of us.”

She circles the table to stop in his view. Tony wishes he had a time machine.

“Let me guess, someone’s under a little heat.” she muses, voice high and dripping in sugary venom.

“Little is an understatement.” He steps back, hands tight in her pockets.

“And why would I give up my shares to help you?”

“This entire thing started with you, and the second it wasn’t convenient you ran. The least you could fucking do is help me out of it.” Tony snapped. 

“Right, and if I don’t?” 

She still laughs, because it’s all a good game to her. Entertaining to see him against the ropes–desperate enough to reach out to her. For once though, it’s calming. It soothes his anger and reminds him why he agreed to this at all. This time, he had an ace up his sleeve.

“Then I’ll tell just that to whoever needs to know–you know I have the evidence. You’ll go down right alongside me.”

In the quiet solace, for a moment, she’s outplayed. Her smile falters and brows crinkle. Truthfully, as much as he’d love to, he could never sell her out. But she had a terrible tendency of assuming the worst of him, and he was banking on that. 

“Please do, I’m sure they’d love to hear what I know about Obadiah.” 

Oh, so that was her ace.

A soft buzz vibrates his back pocket. He doesn’t need omniscience to know it’s you. He can picture it clearly–you, traipsing around the penthouse looking for signs of life. He knows you hate that feeling, and he hates to cause it. 

There’s a more pressing issue; not giving Pepper the emotional reaction she wants.

“You wouldn’t do that.” Spare words from some forgotten bin. 

“Not if you don’t force my hand.” 

A painful pause ensues. The valley’s fauna recognize the tension, silencing out of respect for the sound of Tony’s plan shattering. A true stalemate. Not what he came for, but his throat swells thinking about the aftermath from a war of attrition. 

He can’t let that get out, above all else. That’d be his dissolution. Stark Industries, everything he worked for would vanish. You, without question. You never see him the same again. The crafted image he sought, the life he was creating with you for you, it’d be wasted effort. 

“What’s it gonna take for you to help me?”

After another migraine-causing conversation, Tony slumps into the driver seat, shoulders heavy and eyelids even heavier. Fifteen minutes have passed since your text, and he wonders if it's better not to answer at all. 

[ everything okay?  ]

[ be home soon ]

Ignore. Deflect. Move on.  

The drive back to the city is less pleasant. Actually, it’s a nightmare that he disassociated through the moment he entered the garage. He was, tragically, fucked. There was no telling if he had the capital to replace whatever Pepper took, and he certainly couldn’t risk everything by going public. And if he didn't give Pepper what she wanted, he might be looking at a depressing future behind bars. And that was not an option. 

So he’s at the mercy of the ginger Judas who put him on the path in the first place. Go figure. There’s self-blame for entertaining this option at all. For not guessing she’d snake her way into the upperhand like always. This wasn’t a beast he could defeat with regular tactician and planning. No, he needed to surprise her–usurp her. Piss her off the way she pissed him off. Go against the grain and act in a way that she couldn't predict. Something she couldn’t maneuver around. 

So, when the mic graced his hands, and the coached words on his marriage, the marriage  he never asked you about. The marriage he couldn’t ask you about because he wasn’t ready either. 

He said fuck it, and did it anyway. 

He knew you would’ve said yes then, so you obviously would answer the same afterwards. Even if you were predictably, and understandably pissed, you loved him, and he intended to use that. Grand gestures were his thing after all. A huge public soiree was more on brand than some private dinner. And, he was Tony Stark. The man who got everything he wanted. Why would your hand be any different? Certainly it fell under the same bracket (and really, an argument could be made that he had your loyalty regardless–this was just a title). 

It was justified in his mind the moment the words hit the mic. It just sounds right– Y/N Stark. Like he should have made it that way a long time ago. For a second, the ceaseless pit of vengeance is taken over by something more. 

It;s even easier to justify when he gets a wave of childlike excitement over it. Imagining the ring on your finger, the life he could have with you. Palm trees and salt waves on a remote coast. No more Stark Industries, no more nightmares about cold federal prisons, just you and him. 

Then, in the crowd, he spots what must be Pepper’s lookout. A short, brayish man stays still while dozen roar in congratulatory apologize. Pepper should’ve coached him better, a clear sore loser in a room full of winners. 

The real reason he’s doing this comes back. Tony makes a quick signal to the guard behind him, and moments later the man is escorted upstairs. He used to hate doing this. But he soon learned that humanity gets you nowhere in this business. Still, he almost tells his team to go easy. Then he remembers the cold look on Pepper’s face at the valley while he plead for mercy like a sad dog. 

Fuck that. The man knew the risks. It’s not Tony’s fault they didn’t play in his favor. 

Out of whatever kindness was left, he makes a note to have his body dumped somewhere nice. 

PART SIX SOON

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Children's Death Comprehension

Psychology contributes to the understanding of the human encounter with death in many ways.

Stages of Death Comprehension in Childhood:

STAGE — AGE RANGE — INTERPRETATION OF DEATH

1 — 3 to 5 — Death is separation; the dead are less alive; very curious about death

2 — 5 to 9 — Death is final, but one might escape it!

3 — 9 to adult — Death is personal, universal, final, and inevitable

Precisely how does the child’s understanding of death develop?

The most influential answer derived from a study by Hungarian psychologist Maria Nagy (1948) who interviewed children and asked them to draw death-related pictures.

"Auntie Death," as she was affectionately called, found a stage-like progression, as summarized above.

These findings provide a useful database for contemporary studies although personifications of death in childhood have been relatively uncommon in subsequent studies, and the variables of developmental level and personal experiences with death have received more attention.

Five other points are worth consideration in comprehending the child’s orientation toward death:

Even the youngest children are aware of separation and its threat to their survival. One does not have to understand the mature adult model of death in order to respond to the experience of loss.

Young children do occasionally express spontaneous insight into the finality of death, as when encountering a dead animal or withered plant; however, there is often a retreat from this realization and a return to more limited and wish-fulfilling ideas.

Children have a lively curiosity about death, leading at times to questions or little experiments that can unsettle adults (e.g., taking a caterpillar apart to see if it can be put back together again and made to go). The brightest and most observant children usually show the most curiosity.

Adults often exclude children from death-related conversations and respond to their questions with evasion and anxiety. A rule of silence regarding death applies in many homes, and with particular force to children.

Adults who are committed to preparing children for life should themselves be prepared to serve as mentors and guides as children encounter death in either reality or fantasy. Many parents have reported their discomfort in trying to help their children deal with death-related questions and experiences because they had so little guidance in their own childhood.

Source ⚜ More: On Psychology

[avelera]

(Writing Advice) Did you know that time skips are considered quite risky for new writers?

The teacher at my writing workshop was a miracle worker of an instructor and among the things she would often stress were the causal chain and the importance of pacing to make a tight story.

This is why she did not recommend time skips for beginner authors unless they really understood the risks. Not that it couldn't be done, but that many didn't recognize how much a time skip can mess up the pacing of your story.

Here are some risks of time skips:

1 ) Destroying your forward momentum: If you've spent a huge swathe of your story up to that point building the tension and urgency of the Big Thing that's going to happen in the future, having a time skip can stop that momentum dead. A time skip represents a reset of your story and is not advised if you're trying to ratchet up tension. A time skip, even of a few hours in a really tight and action-packed story with urgent pacing, can leave audiences scratching their heads wondering what happened during that missing time and why did the characters (and the author) take their foot off the gas?

2 ) Breaking your causal chain: In a tightly-written story, your cause-and-effect chains (aka 'causal chain') should be ironclad. Even if not everything is shown on the page, you, the author, should know how events and characters got to where they are at every moment, at both the large scale and the small scale. But when you throw in a time skip, suddenly you have a huge break in the tight line of your cause and effect. How did we get to where we are now? Why didn't we do something sooner? What has everyone been up, were they just twiddling their thumbs? It's all lost in the blank space and that can be unsatisfying for audiences if not handled well.

3 ) The need to backtrack to explain skipped events: This is in large part what killed the forward momentum of "A Song of Ice and Fire" for George RR Martin. Originally, ASOIAF was supposed to have a several year long time-skip, hence why the characters are so young at the beginning of the books. But then he realized, after publishing the earlier books, that he wanted to explore a lot of the events that would be skipped and the amount of flashbacks and backtracking required would be prohibitive. He decided to write through the timeskip instead, but that created a lot of deadspace and a less-tight story because not everything in those years really needed to be explored on a day to day level. (Frankly, I think he made a mistake by building this time skip into his outline, BUT that he was a skilled enough author that he should have trusted his instincts and kept the time skip, and just resigned himself to losing the chance to explore the events of those intervening years.)

If what happened during the missing time can't be quickly and elegantly summarized or referred back to, it might be better not to build a time skip into your story.

Raising more questions than you answer: How did we get here? What are we doing here? Why are characters in trouble that weren't before? Why didn't other characters intervene before things got so bad? Why didn't our heroes stop the new bad state of the world before it happened? Did everything the heroes did before to save the world not matter?

Many genre fiction stories will use a time skip after the Bad Guys have won a battle in the larger war in order to show the world plunged into a new darkness that the heroes have to face. For example, in The Force Awakens installment of the Star Wars franchise, the story was often criticized for having the bad guys of the Empire return without explaining why the previous generation of heroes were unable to stop this threat in the apparent 20-year time skip it took for them to return. This was quite unsatisfying for many audience members, to put it lightly and it seemed to invalidate much of the story the audience had been invested in up to this point, namely the ability for the good guys to stop the bad guys and save the world.

Just because you skip a period of time between one story and the next, doesn't mean you the author gets to skip over what happened during that time. If anything, you might need to work even harder to work out what happened in the missing space, in order to make your causal chain bridge the long span of that gap in a coherent and satisfying manner.

TL;DR Anyway, this is not to say you can't do time skips. Time skips can be great for purposefully wiping the slate clean, or purposefully resetting the story so a new evil can arise when your prior story has nowhere else to escalate too.

But a professional editor might caution against it if you don't really know what you're doing, and what can be lost when utilizing this particular plot device.

A lot of creators seem to think that a time skip will allow them to cover up sins and not force them to explain how a new world-state they wanted to explore came to be, but just as often it reveals the weaknesses of the story and demands more work of the author than simply following that time span linearly would have required.

[jadeharleyinc]

The "AI Rots Your Brain" Study

"The Impact of Generative AI on Critical Thinking" is a study conducted by Carnegie Mellon University and Microsoft Research Cambridge.

it has been widely reported on as "concluding that AI makes human cognition atrophied and unprepared" (404 media) or as "linking AI usage with a deterioration in critical-thinking skills" (New York Magazine).

is that true? what does the paper actually say, though? it's only 20 pages, so you can check for yourself. otherwise, read on.

the survey's methodology has been... misrepresented, to put it mildly. this paper did not measure actual thinking ability. it surveyed workers who used AI at work, asked questions like "do you usually trust AI outputs? how do you think about them critically? if you can't, what obstacles are stopping you?"

the paper aimed to answer two research questions:

When and how do knowledge workers perceive the enaction of critical thinking when using GenAI? When and why do knowledge workers perceive increased/decreased effort for critical thinking due to GenAI?

pages 14-16 of the study discuss the survey's findings, and what they mean for AI tools, workers, and critical thinking skills. i've summarized these conclusions, point by point, as follows.

confidence and knowledge 1) people who say they trust genAI to be truthful are likely to be the same people who say they exercise less critical thinking about AI outputs. (makes sense.) 2) people who say they have confidence in their work skills are likely to say they are critical of the AI's output, even if they perceive this critical look as requiring extra effort. 3) it's possible that fostering workers' expertise and confidence in their domains will increase their ability to think critically about AI outputs. 4) a worker being confident in their skills at a task is associated with the worker's ability to delegate and guide the task. 5) a worker being unconfident in their skills at a task can rely more on AI, which potentially lowers their critical engagement and independent problem-solving skills. 6) in a nutshell, workers knowledgeable at a task invest more effort in thinking critically while using AI for it; less knowledgeable workers invest less.

the researchers suggest: 7) empowering users to 1. develop their skills, 2. develop a balanced relationship with the AI where it's not either the user or the AI calling all the shots. 8) adding feedback mechanisms to AI tools that help users gauge reliability of AI outputs, so they can know when to trust and when to question. 9) that AI tools let users customize and refine how the output is made, how much AI assistance is provided, depending on confidence and task complexity.

to do this, they see several approaches. potential approach 1: 10) AI tools could underline opportunities for critical thinking, especially for tasks the worker finds unimportant or secondary. 11) for example, AI tools could have systems to proactively interrupt the user and highlight a situation where it may be overlooked that critical thinking is needed. 12) another approach is to allow the user to request critical thinking assistance when they consciously need it.

potential approach 2: 13) increase the motivation to use critical thinking. workers use it less when they think it's not their job, and use it more when aiming to develop their skills. 14) therefore, AI tools could encourage critical thinking thtrough the lens of skill development and professional growth, not arbitrary and sometimes-irrelevant "audits".

potential approach 3: 15) enhance the ability to think critically. workers often refrain from thinking critically when they don't have the skills to fact-check or improve AI's responses. 16) this means learning opportunities: AI providing explanations for its reasoning, suggesting ways the users should refine their knowledge, or offering guided critiques. 17) the AI could help the worker develop specific skills: how to analyze arguments or cross-reference facts against sources. (see: AI as partner in skill development.)

so how is AI impacting critical thinking, specifically? 18) usually critical thinking involves analysis, synthesis and evaluation. using AI tools changes what tasks a worker performs to fulfill these goals. 19) when recalling and understanding, the worker focuses less on gathering information and more verifying it. (less need to find info, more need to verify it.) 20) when applying information, the worker focuses less on solving a problem and more on integrating the AI's solution. ("is this relevant? what parts should i tweak?") 21) when analyzing, synthesizing and evaluating, the worker focuses less on executing the task and more on supervising the task. ("stewardship" more than "collaboration".)

so, to think critically, workers that use AI should be trained: 22) on how to verify information, integrate outputs, and guide the task. 23) on cross-referencing with sources, assessing if AI output is relevant or applicable, and refining their use of AI processes. 24) on maintaining foundational problem-solving and information-gathering skills so they aren't overly reliant on AI.

the researchers point out some limitations of their study: 25) surveyed workers sometimes confuse "the task now takes me less effort" and "i spend less effort on critical thinking". (hey, we don't assess our critical thinking often.) 26) surveyed workers might think less critically when they get an AI output that matches what they expected. that could expect the aforementioned confusion. 27) asking workers to report their confidence at a task produces subjective responses. 28) the survey was conducted solely in english, and aimed only at fluent english speakers. 29) the survey sample biases towards younger, technologically skilled workers who use AI tools at work at least once a week. older and less techy people are underrepresented. 30) this is just a baseline study and long term impact has to be tracked.

i now encourage you to draw your own conclusions.

[lenacethemenace]

So I fear I may be writing a fanfiction for Shadamy.

Okay so for context, I opened google docs one day and giggled because the font I was using reminded me of Amy (she’s me guys) and I thought it would be a BRILLIANT idea to write her getting stood up on a date she was supposed to go on with Sonic, from her point of view. Now I love love LOVE Amy Rose, so this was a fun little writing exercise.

GUYS, IT’S NOT JUST CUTIE PATOOTIE ANYMORE!!! I’ve written over 20k words so far, switching between Amy, Shadow, Tails and Sonic’s POVs. It got SO crazy in fact that one of my friends offered to be a free editor. I have no idea who would be interested in reading it, but I have so much content planned, and art to make for it.

I’m only about 1/6th of the way through the story, since it follows events that happen over the course of a couple of months. It’s mutual hurt/comfort, some nice fluff, a decent amount of Angst, and a bucketload of personal head-canons thrown in for some spice. It’s during a time of peace, and I’m not exactly too familiar with the extensive lore of the comics (IDW, Archie, or even Fleetway) but it’s been consuming my life, and I’m investing in them as we speak.

I’ll probably be posting updates on the state of the fic because it’s not currently nowhere NEAR ready to publish even the first chapter, but I’m so genuinely enthused about the project that I’ve been writing thousands of words per week (I started writing barely two weeks ago.)

I’ve been SO invested I practically eat sleep and breathe this ship. Made like 3 playlists all over 7 hours long by now.

If anyone wants to know the details I’d love to answer questions and have an excuse to yap about them. I’m not the best writer, but I’d rather post a mediocre self indulgent fanfiction then have to keep it to myself.

(Yes I will be posing updates)

Update one!

Update two!

Update three!

Update four!

Update fivvveeeeee!

Update 6, art?

GUYS! WE HAVE THE SAMPLE!

[smartgirrl]

how to effectively review your notes after class

reviewing your notes shortly after class can greatly improve retention and understanding. here are something that i do!

why review your notes?

forgetting curve -> a phenomenon where our brains tend to forget information rapidly if we don’t revisit it.

by reviewing your notes within 24 hours, you strengthen neural connections and solidify the material in your long-term memory.

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · ˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧

effective strategies for reviewing your notes

1. active review

summarize the material -> after class, write a brief summary of the key points in your own words.

ask yourself questions -> turn headings or bullet points into questions and see if you can answer them without looking at your notes.

teach someone else -> explaining the material to someone else can reinforce your understanding and identify gaps in your knowledge.

2. organizing your notes

highlight key concepts -> use different colors or underlining to emphasize important points, formulas, or definitions.

add examples -> include real-world examples next to complex ideas to make them more relatable and easier to remember.

create summaries or concept maps -> condense lengthy notes into diagrams, charts, or mind maps to visualize relationships between topics.

3. spaced repetition

review within 24 hours -> go over your notes right after class to reinforce initial learning.

space subsequent review -> revisit the material after a few days, then again after a week.

use flashcards or apps -> tools like anki or quizlet can help with spaced repetition by showing you content at optimal intervals.

˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · ˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧₊˚. ‘˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ✧˚ · . ˚ · . ༉‧

how to keep your notes engaging

make it visual -> use diagrams, doodles, or flowcharts to break up text-heavy notes and make reviewing more interactive.

incorporate mnemonics -> create acronyms, rhymes, or mental images to help remember lists or difficult concepts.

if you want to go beyond... what i do is take my notes digitally during class (or before if the lecture is posted online) and after the lesson rewrite everything in my notebook. by rewriting everything, i review the lesson :)

[becauseimanicequeen]

I followed you during the 4minutes run and was entertained by your theories. Are you watching Reset and do you have theories about time jumps and such here?

Hi, Anon!

Thank you for following my 4 Minutes theories. I don't know how you managed because they were many and most of them delulu, lol. But thank you anyway.

To answer your question: Yes. I'm definitely watching Reset. Getting to watch Peterpan kiss boys again and Pond in a great role again is heaven to me. (Also, it's great getting to see First, Shell, and Winner again, (and Thada's delicious secretary, I mean, what the fuck?! I'm delighted!) even though Peterpan and Pond were the pull for me.)

Do I have theories? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Will I post about them/expand on them? I wasn't planning to. Mainly because I'm busy, but also because I stumbled upon and skimmed through two (or three?) posts that have similar theories to mine while I was lurking on my tumblr home feed for a few minutes last night.

But, since you asked, I can summarize my timeline theories for you...

I think there are at least 3 timelines at play (as someone has already stated):

The timeline we were introduced to at the beginning of the 1st episode (the one where Armin is killed)

The 1999 timeline Armin is sent back to

And a reset that's already happened (most likely Thada's reset)

The reasons I believe there's already been a reset, and why I think it was Thada's, are:

Thada was a fan of Armin from the very start of Armin's career (even though he wasn't a very good actor). To me, it felt like Thada was encouraging Armin to keep up with his acting career, as if that was either what Thada knew Armin wanted (to be a great actor) or because it was a key for them to cross paths at one point or another again after Thada's reset (since Thada's company, Crown, seems to be an entertainment company of sorts). It could also be a combination of both, of course.

At the reward ceremony at the start of the episode, Armin looked at his watch backstage and thanked TD/Thada (who might've given Armin that watch in the first place, considering how many Thada has himself), and there was a shot focusing on Thada's watch as he sat in his CEO lounge watching the ceremony. I feel like the focus on Armin's watch was a foreshadowing of what was going to happen, while the focus on Thada's watch was a clue of what had already happened.

I don't know how many fantasy/supernatural elements the show will include, but, if Thada had given Armin that watch, it might be the reason (or part of the reason) they experience resets. And, if so, that watch might've been Thada's "insurance policy" that Armin, too, would be sent back in time if something happened to him.

The short scene at the end of the episode, where Thada watches Armin act out his death scene and gets emotional watching it, paired with what he says (something about Armin's acting being so real and that Thada couldn't believe it made him emotional, or something like that) felt like he was reacting from the perspective of someone who had already seen Armin die irl (which I think happened before Thada's reset). It might've also led him to believe that Armin has been through a reset too (considering Armin now knows what it feels like to die and can portray that so well in his acting, at a point where he should be a novice at it) and it might be a reason Thada, therefore, chooses to stop lurking in the shadows.

Those are just some of my thoughts on the timelines and why I think Thada has already had a reset.

I don't know about you, but I also get Triage vibes in this show, where the time gets reset every time one of them dies. So, I think that we will see at least one more reset:

Either one where we get to see Thada's previous reset (perhaps through his retelling of the events)

Or a future reset based on this 1999 timeline, when one of them gets killed again

Or both

Or possibly even more of them until they eliminate the threats to their lives (which seem to come from both directions)

Anyway, those were just a few of my thoughts on my theories after the first episode.

Thank you for your ask.

[endgamelukola]

do you believe everything the media and photographs tell you to believe?

if so, this is a post that isn't for you.

[also, I went with the autocomplete in the image, which is why Nicola's name is spelled incorrectly in the search, jsyk]

I wanted to call out that the first three top stories links on Google have Nicola Coughlan linked to Jake Dunn. Each link is to a news source that has no credible source to rely on. Terms such as "rumored"; "seem to confirm" and "believed to be" are used. One of the stories claims to have reached out to Nicola's and Jake's teams for comment, but there's no mention of any responses.

I think it's interesting to note that while the first paragraph or so of each of these articles summarize what's been photographed of Jake and Nicola – which I would argue are moments between friends, much like her interactions with Luke Thompson, Jack Rooke, and Mark Peacock – but aren't able to state anything more in the articles. The articles then diverge into information and previously quoted material from Coughlan about her relationship with who? Luke Newton. Because that's the only relationship she's ever openly spoken about to media sources.

We can continue to split microscopic hairs, but Nicola has never directly answered the question of whether she's solely friends with Luke Newton. She cleverly walks around the question, in the hopes that many will just assume she's friends and nothing more. Which is what a lot of people are doing. And that's their prerogative to do so.

In doing further reading about PR practices, I ran across a post from The Chi Group that discussed a couple of ways that public figures work to combat misinformation about them without making explicit statements:

"Pinning Corrective Posts: Pinning a correction or accurate update to the top of a social media profile can ensure that followers see the correct information first."

Okay, so what does Nicola have pinned to her Instagram post? Her own achievements in the media spheres as of late, where she noticeably mentions Luke Newton, even when it isn't within an ideal context to do so. And as always, the Bridgerton Season 3 promo post. Nothing about relationships or anything hinting to a connection with Jake Dunn.

"Search engine optimization (SEO) is a powerful tool in ensuring that accurate information surfaces in search results, rather than misleading or false content. PR professionals can optimize their content by:

Using Relevant Keywords: Including keywords that users might search when looking for information on a topic can help ensure that accurate content appears in search results.

Publishing on Authoritative Websites: Contributing articles or guest blogs to reputable sites can boost the visibility and credibility of the accurate narrative.

Regularly Updating Content: Keeping web pages updated with the latest information ensures that search engines recognize the content as current and relevant, helping it rank higher."

So the SEO is pushing Jake and Nicola together here in regards to relationship searching, and where Luke Newton has scrubbed SEO information linking him to Antonia, Nicola hasn't done that. I don't think she feels the need when, as stated above, the articles can't seem to gather much about her and Jake Dunn in the first place and revert back to talking about her 'gorgeous' relationship with Luke Newton.

Re: publishing on authoratative websites. The first three sources are from People Magazine, Yahoo reposting an article from Glamour, and The Sun. I certainly don't turn to these outlets for authoritative news, and I hope you don't either.

Re: regularly updating content. Can you point me in the direction of any content published by Nicola Coughlan's social media accounts that provides the latest information about her and Jake Dunn?

I rest my case.

[melkor-did-nothing-wrong]

This is going to be the one post I make to address the fucking "drama", since people are trying to make me look like this bad person who ignores criticism behind my back when I didn't even know it fucking existed.

Since this reply is going to be longer than 2 words, I'd like to insert a quote from the translation of Blaise Pascal's 1657 Lettres Provinciales which I think might be fitting for the whole situation at hand.

"I have made this longer than usual because I have not had time to make it shorter."

Now, let us begin.

No, I am not taking things "extremely seriously" and I am not "THIS upset over a poll". If people decide to come to that conclusion because I added too many tags to a reblog, maybe those people are the ones taking things too seriously. I'm not very pleased with others deciding for me what's in my mind or what's in my heart, especially when it's not true.

I'm autistic. I use fandoms as a fun distraction from difficult situations or events in my real life. Commenting on fandom things allows me to spend time thinking about fandom and distract myself from issues in my real life I can't do much about. I've been told in the past that leaving very short thoughts or incomplete 1-2 word sentences on things is considered unhelpful because it feels forced or robotic and adds nothing to a conversation. Since then I have adopted stream of consciousness style of writing and tagging, and unfortunately it tends to get long. It doesn't mean I'm overthinking a subject or taking it way too seriously, quite the opposite. It means I don't have the time or ability at that moment to think enough about how to elegantly summarize my thoughts in a fun or entertaining way. If you think I'm taking fun things too seriously or taking all the fun out of them because I talk too much, well, that's gonna remain a topic of disagreement between us. English isn't my first language, so things most English speakers could summarize in 3 sentences because it's easy for them, sometimes takes me 5 paragraphs because I don't have the eloquence to craft perfect sentences perfectly. Yeah, I yap. I yap about things that are serious AND things that aren't. I yap because I think that if I talk a lot and elaborate on my opinions, people would be less likely to find some unaddressed point to misinterpret in bad faith. Apparently, some people still manage.

To answer the questions aimed at me, the reason I didn't immediately jump to the poll OP's askbox or DMs is because I was in the hospital. Regular occurrence for me, as most people who read tags on my vent posts know. Unfortunately, it is a bit overcrowded and understaffed lately, so if the doctors or nurses get to me at an unexpected or inopportune time, I can't just tell them to fuck off because I have some Tumblr messages to send. Additionally the wifi was spotty too, and tumblr famously likes eating asks and DM's without warning if the connection is anything less than perfect, even if it's on their end. I did ask a friend if she could send something in my stead, but she was at work. These things happen. Now in retrospect, it looks like it doesn't matter at all and even if I would have done that, OP still would've blocked me if I worded my ideas in a way that is not to their liking. If I am wrong, well, that's just how it is when you make assumptions on others based on 1 fucking interaction.

Now what I do take seriously and care about, is unfairness. If you want to block me for any reason, like if you feel I'm rude, or you think my headcanons are cringe, or if I like stuff that you don't, or for any other reason under the sun, by all means, I'm with you. Blocking is always 100% justified because curating your online experience is important and you owe no one any explanations.

But to fucking frame things as if you're genuinely asking me questions in good faith or trying to show me ways in which I can resolve a situation, only to block me immediately, hence preventing me from seeing any of this, is disingenuous and feels like an action in bad faith. Generally speaking, I understand that sometimes questions can be rhetorical. But not all autistic people can perfectly understand every situation in which that is the case, especially on the internet.

Please don't do that shit to people. You never know when the person on the other side doesn't understand your intent, the same way you never know why people don't reply to you the way you want them. Sometimes it's difficulties they're going through in real life that you can't predict. If you want to make me feel like a bad person for doing something you felt was an insult to you, fair enough. But don't make me feel like a bad person for thinking I've deliberately ignored and avoided your good faith questions to me for a week, when you actually never wanted them answered in the first place and specifically created a scenario where I look bad for not doing so.

I'm sorry if the length of my tags or my disagreements with your choices came across as insulting. and I'm sorry if what you didn't like about my reply was how I was "too serious". I'll be sure to add "lol" or "jk" to everything I say next time. At least until people get annoyed that I'm not taking things seriously enough. When that happens... well. I don't even know anymore.

[chibrary]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8Kdaokx/

do you know if this is true? I know Charles and Max drove for the same team, but I thought there wasn’t any documentation saying max/jos recommended Charles for the seat.

First, Max never drove for GP3. He drove in the European Formula 3 Championship, which was combined with GP3 in 2019 to create Formula 3. Charles raced in both series, spending 2015 in European Formula 3 and 2016 in GP3. While they've been merged since, they were two different series back when Charles and Max were driving.

And... it's complicated. When I was trying to verify this for the Chrimer, someone sent me an old Dutch forum post that did imply that Jos suggested Charles to the Van Amersfoort seat but I've found no sources from anyone directly involved confirming this.

Van Amersfoort was asked directly about why he signed Charles in a 2015 interview and said the following:

CLF: When did you discover him and why did you hire him? FvA: "You know, we closely follow several championships including the Formula Renault 2.0 ALPS in which he participated last year. He was very good even though he was only in his first season. I have him so invited to come and do some tests with us and we fell in love with each other (laughs). That's when we started talking with Nicolas Todt."

He did speak extensively about Max and Charles in that same interview:

CLF: What are its strengths and weaknesses?FvA: "It's a very good question, especially when we see this weekend's performances! At the start of the season we often compared Charles to Max, but it seems difficult to me because they have different characters and personalities. completely different. That said, they both have a lot of talent and I think Charles, as much as Max, deserves a seat in F1. Coming back to your question, I think Charles is very good at feeling his car . He knows where he gains time and where he loses. It seems simple like that, but in reality it's very complicated, especially when we're talking about tenths of a second. He's also very good at braking and in games. fast but it is less so on the starts." CLF: Do they have any similarities in their work or their driving?FvA: "Not really. For us, working one-on-one with Charles is fantastic. When Max Verstappen was with us, we also had to work with his father, and it was very difficult because Jos put a lot of pressure on us. To summarize we can also say that Max is an extremely talented driver but we must not forget that he was very well prepared by his father, since he was very young. This is the difference with Charles who is very good but whose preparation is perhaps not at the level of Max's."

I think it would have been natural to bring up any referral for Charles from the Verstappens at either point in the interview. The fact that it wasn't mentioned makes me doubt it was a serious factor.

I did include the line in the 2015 Chrimer (identifying it as a rumor) because its 1. so prolific within fandom and 2. not easily disproven.

My theory is its probably true, but not to the extent that fans-- especially creators on Tiktok who just regurgitate other fan content-- would like it to be. I bet Van Amersfoort was looking at Charles, asked the Verstappens and got a positive answer re: his performance... at that time, Max was entering F1 and a former karting rival three or four series below was not a threat. It's not like putting in a good word was any threat to Max's future.

However, to act like any goodwill from the Verstappens aided Charles' career notably discounts Charles' personal success. This is a review of Charles' first year in single-seaters from before the move to Van Amsersfort happened:

After several starring years on the world karting scene, Leclerc’s car debut season was a long awaited one and it lived up to expectations. A non-score at the Imola opener aside, Leclerc delivered a superb rookie season, maturing and improving round after round, which culminated in a spectacular double victory at Monza and saw a further five podium appearances throughout the campaign. A protege of Nicolas Todt’s All Road Management firm, he has also been superb in his guest Eurocup outings and the chief 2.0 series appears to be a logical next step – one he’s more than ready for. In fact, it wouldn’t be a surprise to see him take a higher jump up the ladder than that. 

Charles had tested with three European F3 teams in the lead up to the 2015 season. There was serious interest. Any referral-- whether or not it existed-- was not the reason why he made it into European F3.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

oh my god :((( i saw your academic/scientific writing post and thank you! my lecturer keeps telling us to 'comment' on paragraphs or papers and i just have no idea what she means??? I've tried looking at other papers and i just don't understand?? i was wondering if you or any of your followers could help? xxx

It sounds to me your lecturer might mean annotating to add your own comments/opinions on the article you're reading.

Writing Notes: Annotation

Annotation - to actively engage a text by pausing to reflect, mark up, and add notes as you read.

The simplest way to annotate:

Mark: Key words; Phrases; Passages...

...By: Highlighting; Underlining; Bracketing; Placing symbols

Steps to Annotating a Scientific Paper

Locate each of the components (Abstract, Introduction, etc.)

Identify unfamiliar words in these sections that are important to understanding the research.

Define the unfamiliar words.

Annotate each section by summarizing the main idea or paraphrasing important sentences.

Ways annotating improves reading:

Avoid having to re-read as often

Monitor and improve your comprehension

Remember what you’ve read

Reasons for writing notes in the margins:

Identify key ideas and help you remember them

Comment on what you are reading

Question what you are reading

Answer guide questions you previously wrote

Take notes for a class, prepare for a presentation, book club or any other occasion: You can make your annotations as simple or elaborate as you want. For instance, you can use different color highlighters or sticky notes to color code the text for different things such as:

comments and questions

observations

text you want to quote

use of themes

vocabulary words to look up

Reader Annotations

You can go beyond marking up text and write notes on your reaction to the content or on its connection with other works or ideas. A reader might annotate a book, paper, pamphlet. or other texts for the following reasons:

a student noting important ideas from the content by highlighting or underlining passages in their textbook

a student noting examples or quotes in the margins of a textbook

a reader noting content to be revisited at a later time

a Bible reader noting sources in their Bible of relevant verses

an academic noting similar or contradictory studies related to their article or book

Tips for Paraphrasing

Read the passage until you understand the meaning.

Purpose. What will you do with this evidence?

Look away from the passage to write the main points of what you read.

Imagine & write. Imagine explaining that main point to a classmate. Write down your explanation.

Check & cite. Double check your wording against the original. Cite the source.

Other things you should do as you read and annotate text:

Paraphrase important information

Write down thoughts and questions

Write down key terms

List and look up new vocabulary terms

Identify other articles to read

Here's an example of an annotated academic article (with steps and more details). Another example:

Strong readers often mark texts and this visual work is deeply linked to the reading experience. Considering annotation as a critical and creative activity, we can design and practice this skill in a multitude of ways. And, once again, as we link student’s visual experience into their ever growing language arts skills we strengthen their ways of interacting and communicating with the world. –James Shivers

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Thanks for your kind words. Hope this helps! (Do ask your lecturer directly though for further clarification on what they actually meant!)

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s4 episode 20 "small potatoes" thoughts

(author's note: this review is going to mention rape and reproductive coercion at the end, as it is a plot point. just a head's up in case you forgot what goes down in this episode. no hard feelings at all if you skip this writeup, but i will have an attempt to summarize my thoughts on the matter at the end, and why i felt Uncomfy)

but now we go back to me from yesterday, who did not know what was in store… take it away, past juni:

i’m really excited!! i’ve heard this one is more light hearted, which i have been looking forward to immensely. 

reading the description. tracking a shapeshifter sounds like a real headache.

let us not delay any longer!!

oh god, are we gonna open with someone giving birth? yes, we are.

nooo this poor woman, ms. nelligan, has to answer questions while in labor… please do not tell me this happens in real life!!!!

she can’t seem to give info on the baby’s father. interesting. oh! he’s from another planet. well! i guess there’s someone for everyone.

ohhh she is screaming. good lord. this is… giving birth is… it’s just… a lot.

but something seems to be wrong with the baby? the doctor is surprised when it emerges. well, maybe she has tentacles.

the baby is screaming which i think is a good thing for babies to do. but omg she has a tail!!!

“good lord, not another one” <- HEY WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??

is this hospital plagued by an alien fuckboy and his countless babies…? a nick cannon of the alien world, if you will…?

well the tail isn’t TOO bad, all things considered!!! i was thinking it would be tentacles. tail is actually kinda cool. maybe they can climb trees better, like a monkey or a squirrel.

hey the intro was different!! different from the USUAL different intro!!

“MONKEY BABIES INVADE SMALL TOWN” JHXJSHDJSJ THAT IS THE SHOT WE OPEN WITH??? (at least mulder is aware of how outrageous the imagery is)

the tabloid also says “michael jackson held captive by exotic pets” lmaoooo mulder only gets his news from the most REPUTABLE of sources!!!

scully is describing babies born with bonus appendages in such detail that i’m wondering if she’s dealt with them before or just had a hell of a time studying in med school. and she is so beautiful, even as she says words like “coccyx” and “spinal fluid”

FIVE tailed babies were born in the last 3 months, all in a small town. something must be in the water!!! or a philandering alien baby daddy!!

she says that there definitely needs to be some sort of investigation… but by the health department, and not them. which is fair. unless the health department is compromised!!! by aliens!!!

LMAOOO scully points out the “visitors from outer space” tagline on the tabloid interesting him and he smirks... yes, he did not just wake up one day deeply invested in neonatal healthcare. there has to be a UFO involved.

mulder is here with the mother who gave birth to the latest tailed baby, ms. nelligan. she says that the baby is healthy, “it’s just a matter of a snip” to which he responds “that’s good to hear” and i think he’s being genuine and is glad that the baby is okay, but i’m just dying at having to hear about someone snipping their baby’s tail off being part of mulder’s job. this is what they prepped these two for at the academy.

mulder is questioning ms. nelligan very gently and it turns out the father of said baby is NOT an alien, but he IS from another planet. and his name is luke skywalker. 

“did he have a lightsaber?” scully asks. “no, he didn’t bring it” (incredibly pained mulder shots) LMAOOOOO

hold on, i need a minute. she just asked if luke is the father of the other babies. scully is doing her absolute best to hold it together.

cutscene to mulder looking at the tailed baby in the window, but it kinda just looks like he’s here to pick up HIS tailed baby, and aww. give him a little tailed baby!!!

ohhh he was too scared to follow her into the room!!! 

the nurse explains that the answer seems very obvious but mulder doesn’t know wtf is going on and whispers “what answer” LMAOOO (i always love when he doesn’t know wtf is going on)

so did one guy with the same genetic abnormality father all the tailed babies??

ohhhhhh and mulder puts together that 4 of the 5 women were all receiving fertility treatment!!! is this doctor gonna go to jail??? because that seems illegal. 

ohhhhhhh there is an ANGRY crowd here at the doctor’s office and they WANT answers. 

these people follow some strange rules. having a baby with a tail = acceptable.

a bastard baby with a tail = CANNOT BE ALLOWED!!!

the latest mother didn’t even undergo insemination, so the doctor proposes that this has actually NOTHING to do with him!! he got off the hook with that one.

at the clinic, mulder is on the prowl. he finds some guy fixing the pipes. WITH WHAT LOOKS LIKE A TAIL REMOVAL SCAR!!!

and when he tries to ask some question this guy BOLTS!! but you cannot outrun mulder!!!

and GASP!!! this guy (eddie) IS THE FATHER!! of all the babies!!! he’s bitching about spelling his name wrong… bro you have bigger issues at hand. ur child support bill is going to be crazy.

he’s saying that it isn’t actually a crime, but they want to know how none of the women remember this happening!!! omg did he shapeshift into the form of the husband??!!

hey man i do actually think that is a crime <3 impersonation of someone’s husband def counts as rape because they did not consent to sex with eddie, they consented to sex with their husbands <3 if he actually did shapeshift as it seems to be leading to <3 please go to jail <3

“well if you’re waiting for my usual theory as to what’s going on, i don’t have one” says mulder <- LMAOOO nothing better than a guy who admits when he has no fucking clue

scully thinks he assaulted them (and she’s right- kinda shocked no one else came to that conclusion???) mulder asks how this could have happened if they’d never seen the guy before. but it’s enough to keep him in custody. and while this discussion takes place, the creepy eddie is watching him!!! please get him out of here.

he’s really looking at the cop who is writing up his profile… and then he shapeshifts into him!!! and knocks him out cold!!!

scully is at the scene the next day trying to figure wtf is going on and mulder rings the bell with a smile to summon her over HAHAHA awww she’s smiling at his antics <3

they find eddie’s clothes in the station, and when scully predicts that he’s about to say eddie must have transformed into his captor and knocked him out, mulder says “scully, should we be picking out china patterns or what?” <- LMAOOOO yes pls update the wedding registry!! i’ll chip in what i can

god why are they both so attractive. i’m gonna scream.

he points out that they have both seen shapeshifters before- and she asks if this means he thinks eddie is an alien.

oh, we never DO get an explanation into scully’s conceptualization of the shapeshifting aliens!!! man, i would love to ask her about that. maybe she thinks they can somehow alter your vision?? we need to chat about it.

i wonder if aliens aren’t off the table for her, at least anymore. maybe at this point some aliens are real but werewolves and stuff are just nonsense. 

so, off to eddie’s house. “hey scully, if you could be someone else for a day, who would you be?” “hopefully myself” “so boring” AWWW DON’T BE MEAN TO HER :( she is a great person to be!!!

AWWW SHE’S HOLDING THE UMBRELLA UP FOR HIM STOP… and he’s STILL TOO TALL so he’s hunched over 😭😭😭

is eddie going to turn into her… is this foreshadowing…

(author’s note: IT WAS FORESHADOWING IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION!!)

AWWW she settles on eleanor roosevelt (nerd! bisexual) and mulder says it can’t be a dead person BRO YOU DIDN’T EVEN SAY THAT THE FIRST TIME AROUND!! you can’t just change the rules like that smh…

ohhhh they find eddie’s dad!! and he has posters on his wall of him as “eddie the monkey man”! well good for him. make a living.

HDHSJDHDJ EDDIE SR ASKS IF THEY WANT TO SEE HIS TAIL AND SCULLY SAYS “NO. NO. NO THANK YOU” JUST AS WE HEAR UNZIPPING 

mulder looks a little bummed he will not see the tail

aww, he looks so dejected…. eddir sr says his son was begging him to remove the tail when he was a kid

and he said without the tail, his son was just small potatoes!!! haha you said the episode name

OHHHH he calls mulder by his name… and he says how tf did you know that?? eddie sr claims scully told him and he says “mm, no, actually i didn’t” LMAOOO CATCH HIS ASS IN A LIE!!

ah. so he must be the eddie jr DISGUISED as eddie sr. 

and he BOLTS!!! mulder is off to the races again, but eddie gets away

mulder and scully get sososososo close and i’m thinking omfg… then he USES HER AS A COAT RACK FOR THE BATHROBE EDDIE DROPPED BAHAHA THAT IS EVIL

ohhhh eddie runs home to one of the mothers whose baby has had tail surgery while disguised as her husband!!! and in the bathroom he turns back into himself. hmm. this would displease me greatly, finding my husband turned into a different guy.

back at eddie’s place, mulder knocks a bunch of stuff over and it clatters and he yells “I’M ALRIGHT”, but scully is downstairs and can’t really hear so she just goes “what?” and he does this annoyed little huff LMAOOO

he finds a bunch of quicklime in the ceiling…. that is being used to MUMMIFY a CORPSE????? with a tail…. REAL EDDIE SR???

back at the mother’s house, her REAL husband just came home, and is approaching where eddie is in the bathroom…… omfg…. they see someone in there. 

HE TURNS INTO MULDER???? JUMPSCARE!!!!!!!!

scully has the mummy in the lab and is sawing into him. there’s quicklime everywhere so when mulder comes in he covers his coffee LMAOOO i thought that detail was so funny

hard to tell what killed the mummy. “as far as i can tell, this man has a thin stratum of voluntary muscle tissue underpinning the entire dermal layer of his skin” <- now you might have to explain that one for the humanities girls in the audience 

“and thankfully, it’s preserved and intact” she says, as mulder snaps his foot off LMAOOOO HE’S ASKING QUESTIONS TO DISTRACT HER WHILE HE TRIES TO STICK IT BACK ON

HE JUST SETS IT BACK ON TOP OF THE LEG LMAOOOOO while proposing that maybe all that extra muscle could be used to remold his skin which is a BOLD hypothesis 

he hurries out the door before the foot falls off and then when it does she is SO baffled

back to ms. nelligan (luke skywalker lady). mulder pulls out a photo of eddie and asks if she recognizes him. and she dated him all throughout high school!!! and that he was an absolute loser.

mulder’s trying hard to get her to name some positive qualities of the guy and she says they’d watch star wars every weekend. that’s weird. that's suspicious.

he brings out a single rose from his jacket and says he wants to congratulate her 😭😭

WAIT IS HE EDDIE IN DISGUISE?? AND THAT IS WHY HE IS TRYING TO DIG UP WHAT SHE THINKS OF HIM?? OH SHOOT, IT IS!!!!!!

NOOO REAL MULDER COMES IN!!! 

AND THE OTHER COUPLE CALLS ASKING WHEN THEY CAN ENTER THE BATHROOM AND WHY DID HE TAKE THE HUSBAND’S SUIT LMAOOOOO NOOOO 

mulder is trying to track eddie down… and he finds a guy changing and locks him up LMAOOO but then the doctor is in there too so he locks them BOTH UP AND CALLS FOR SCULLY

lmao those poor guys…….. but he sees something flickering in the lights. and eddie says he is “a damn good looking man” and then jumps on him from the ceiling!!!

“mulder” (really eddie) tells scully that he thinks this whole case was a waste of time and i don’t buy it for a second. and he says “small potatoes” again!! ahhh dead giveaway!!!

but real mulder is locked DEEP IN THE BASEMENT!!!! NOOOOO 

he has a lunch tho… eddie was thoughtful in that one matter i guess

FAKE MULDER IS IN SKINNER’S OFFICE!!!! 

KNDJSHDJS skinner tells him he spelled “federal bureau of investigation” wrong LMAOOOO NOOO THE SECONDHAND EMBARRASSMENT. 

he’s all twitchy and he can’t sit still and is making strange faces and i’m gagging at someone playing a character playing a different character.

OHHHH FAKE MULDER PATS SCULLY’S SHOULDER I DON’T LIKE THAT. NO MA’AM.

he asks what she is doing tonight, and she says she’s writing an article on “diminished acetylcholine production in recidivist offenders” okaaaay published queen!! or is she lying to see if he’ll catch on…???

and he cannot get the door open because he doesn’t know which key is which LMAOOOO

but she says she’s going to go investigate the body instead. a STEM queen.

fake mulder is in mulder’s office looking around, taking a seat, falling off the desk, “this is where my tax dollars go?” lmao

he finds mulder’s address on his license plate and HAHAHA “WHERE THE HELL DO I SLEEP?” <- FINALLY THE COUCH IS ADDRESSED!!!

LMAOOO WE HEAR A MESSAGE FROM THE LONE GUNMEN ON HIS VOICEMAIL ABOUT GETTING A BIRD’S EYE VIEW OF THE ZAPRUDER FILM AND ALSO GETTING CHEESESTEAKS. AWW BOYS NIGHT!!!

he slaps the basketball around VERY POORLY I’M GIGGLING 

he has a voice message which i assume is a spam call? about. sexy voices. and lower rates. god, please let that be a spam call and not that real mulder calls NSFW phone lines under the name “marty”

(for my own sanity i am imagining that this is the 90’s equivalent of the 800 “sexy singles in your area” spam ads that infest your email because 1. i do not want that mental image and 2. cannot imagine someone from the FBI using their home phone, that has BEEN BUGGED IN THE PAST, for such purposes. nuh uh. no way. he HAS to be smarter than that. imagine how easy he would be to blackmail if that was the case)

and now eddie as mulder is practicing tough guy lines in the mirror and waving the gun around 

scully is at home reading!!!! on the floor. with her glasses on. how i love her. when she hears a knock. 

it’s mulder!!! but is it real mulder???? no, it can’t be. he brought wine!! real mulder almost never drinks!

WAIT i’m sad to learn that him smiling into her door that i’ve seen in so many gifs was not actually real mulder 😭

she pops the cork and she thinks that there’s going to be deep conversation OH NO “we never really… talk much… do we?” “what, you mean like really talk? no. no we don’t mulder” oh my god is she gonna open up…

(i proceed to make noises that have only ever been heard in wounded baby animals as i consider how excited scully seemed to have a night with the bestie with zero work and some normalcy)

AND SHE IS DRUNK YAPPING LMFAOOOOOO “marcus was the 12th grade love of my life” <- i’m writing that down

(notably, though, he keeps pouring more and more in her glass… and seemingly none in his)

“now i’m seeing a whole new side of you, mulder” “is that a good thing?” “i like it :)” 

OH GODDDD :( she wanted mulder to be chill SO badly

is he going to kiss her….. he’s getting closer and REAL MULDER BURSTS IN THE DOOR AND SHE SHOVES FAKE MULDER OFF OF HER

she did not even look like she wanted to kiss him at all……. she knew something was weird as hell

and he turns back into eddie!!! right there on her couch!!!!

NOOOOO DRUNK SCULLY??? I AM SO SAD YOUR EVENING WAS RUINED

mulder comes to visit eddie in jail in his “superstar” hat… and now he’s on a muscle relaxer so he can’t make faces. and presumably this also cancels out his shapeshifting talents.

“i was born a loser, but you’re one by choice” <- WTFFFFFFF???? (i think this was meant to be commentary on how he only focuses on his work, but it just felt… weird)

he tells him to live a little and treat himself, which i guess is something he needed to hear

“i don’t imagine you need to be told this, mulder, but you’re not a loser” “yeah, but i’m no eddie van blundht, either” (she doesn’t think he’s a loser‼️😭)

(thus concludes episode)

so wtf was that ending!!!!!!!!

if scully never opened up before she is DAMN SURE NOT GONNA DO IT NOW 😭😭😭 that really broke my heart. amazing mutual phoebe wrote a heartbreaking meta on the subject that pointed out how especially cruel it was to dangle the normalcy she has always wanted in the face of her own death in front of her just to rip it away. you should go read it; if i can find it again i'll link it in the replies.

the tone for this episode was definitely a lot lighter than usual, which i enjoyed for most of the episode. the comedic acting was really funny, as has been noted by others commenting upon this episode. DD playing someone else playing mulder had me losing it. he did it SO well, with all of the tiny movements, the way he slapped that basketball, it had me giggling.

but the last half left me feeling very icky. let's get into it.

eddie was a rapist, full stop. he is acknowledged as such in the episode, and it is mentioned that he was placed upon the sex offender registry. at first i was thinking that there was a sexy tailed alien having consensual relationships with all the women in town, which was funny. it became less funny when we learn what actually happened, but it became (to me) not funny at all when we see him try and rape scully.

if i’m supposed to just laugh that off, i’m not sorry, but i don’t find it funny. how eddie as mulder was getting her more and more drunk and then tried to kiss her, which she clearly did not want- it made my stomach turn. we don’t need to subject female characters to assault for the laughs. some may find this shocking, but it is true.

and the narrative attempted to make us feel sympathetic towards eddie, with his visiting ms. nelligan, asking for good things about himself, giving her a rose, and telling mulder to not be a loser. what was i supposed to take away from that? was i supposed to say “aw shucks, he may have raped 5 women and tried to rape scully, but deep down he’s just a softie”. BECAUSE HELLO? THIS IS NOT WHAT I AM THINKING!!

anytime rape is used for comic value, i have to ask if any women alive were involved in the writer’s room, and when the answer is inevitably no, i think about how we need to get them in there, stat.

but let’s be more specific. this wasn’t just rape; specifically, eddie was trying to get these women pregnant, all of which he succeeded at except for with scully. this comes down to reproductive coercion in ADDITION to rape.

i highlight this because a lot of scully’s story ALREADY is centered around reproductive coercion, with the whole abduction plotline. it’s something that has always made me uncomfortable, and i believe this was intentional on behalf of the writers, who are succeeding in their goal to make me uncomfy. scully's reproductive agency has been removed entirely with the procedures she has been subjected to. this is disturbing in an in-universe view, but from an outside view criticizing the writing, i find myself asking why a story must center around a woman's ability or lack thereof to have children, and having that agency ripped from her. because you know damn well that we wouldn't get that arc from mulder (even though frankly i think that would be fascinating). while i have my own complex feelings about the consequences of scully's abduction arc in that regard, i have a feeling that they will grow and change as i progress beyond the 4th season (and please- no spoilers).

but in this context, it makes the writers inserting attempted rape and a man trying to impregnate her all the more gross, because we have already spent time establishing that her bodily autonomy has been violated. while i can maybe find some deeper symbolic meaning in terms of it being the government slash aliens being responsible for that, this felt gratuitous or fetishistic.

i hope that explanation makes sense. and again, i expect my feelings to change on the matter re:abduction arc as i progress- maybe i'll hate it more, maybe i'll hate it less. regardless: rape. not funny. didn't laugh.

i posted a poll yesterday asking what people thought about the episode, and if it made them uncomfortable- the leading answer at the moment is that it was cringe but didn't ruin it for most viewers, which is totally fair. i'm down for differences of opinions, and the things that make me gag aren't always going to be the same as the things that make you gag. however, i do think i have a different viewpoint as i am of gen z age- the me too movement happened right as i started high school, and it shaped the way i grew up. it was an absolutely monumental shift that perhaps we now take for granted, but then i see stuff like this from before then, and i'm like ohhh. i forgot how things used to be. i'm lucky in that regard, to grow up in a space where those conversations have been taking place very loudly. and having grown up in that context, things from before can seem jarring.

that got more serious than perhaps you hoped for an x files episode review, but you know that is how i roll around these parts- terribly heartfelt in all regards. i don't feel a need to justify my dislike for the episode, but it left a nagging sensation in my side to put into words just exactly why is felt so icky. i hope i've been able to make myself understood. it started off fun and strong, but for me, that's gonna make it one of the ones i'm not sure if i'll rewatch. it started off so strong, so i'm conflicted on if watching it again would spark joy or i would just dread knowing what is coming.

but now we need REAL mulder and scully hangout time. i want to know what happened to marcus. need a sleepover fic. i will daydream about this at work instead of making my bosses money.

[kakamccartneystan]

Questions to Mclennon shippers

I said I would launch several polls about Mclennon. However, there are some questions that cannot be summarized in a survey. So, I'll ask and anyone who wants can answer.

If you don't want to respond publicly, you can send me a private response.

1- When and how did you start shipping Mclennon?

2- Do you think they had something or was it just in the imagination?

3- Who answered yes: what is the main evidence that points to this?

Remember: it's pure curiosity. I want to know your thoughts better.

[marumafan]

Hello, I just have a few not-so-quick questions.

First, was the novel never written with a proper plot from the beginning? Did Sensei change their mind a lot during the writing process? I heard the later novels are really dark, but in the first one, they mentioned that their main focus was humor with a touch of emotional moments. If that’s true, wouldn’t there be a lot of plot holes?

Also, I’m trying to read the novel now, but Sensei’s writing style is really hard to follow, especially in the translated version. There are many parts where the wording feels unnecessarily complicated. Because of this, the translator had to include a lot of footnotes at the end of the novel just to explain what Sensei meant, which really disrupts the reading experience and makes it far less smooth. So, I really want to know if it’s worth spending my time reading this.

Ah, yes, a side question—did the relationship between Wolfram and his mother improve as the story went on? I’m really curious to know if Yuuri’s impression of their dynamic as a “silly mother and son” ever developed into something deeper. Whether it got better or worse doesn’t matter—I’d just like to see some kind of growth. If not, I think I’ll feel quite disappointed.

Btw, if you have time, could you summarize how the relationships within the royal family change as the story goes on too? I’d love to see how their characters and bonds grow beyond Yuuri’s first impressions of them. I don’t mind being spoiled.

Thank you very much.

I'll delete this answer in a few days if there's no interest... as the questions seem to be... particular. Edit(days later): I apparently think that 11 likes is enough interest to let this stay, it stays. I hope you're all having a wonderful day. PLOT 1) Yes, she changed her mind a lot. Up until the 3rd novel she didn't know the story would be picked up by the publisher or if it was going to be a one off/ two off. Then with novel 5 on she started this whole 'forbidden boxes' thing. She wanted to kill Conrad, fans threw a hissy fit and didn't let her. She made the grand reveal about Yuuri in novel 8-no spoilers-. In 9 she started a new arc- unsure if she was prepping the end, or if because the novels started to take years instead of months to be released she conjured it during those years, but along the way she prepped an ending (Yuuri dreaming the events of the novel), but then her editor GEG didn't let her end the novel like that by novel 13 . Then she tried to kill (CHARACTER), and again fans threw a hissy fit, he had to be revived . Here's another -> Gwen's arm She does forget a lot and in the 'encyclopedia' for example, she asks us to pretend the 'plot-hole' is not there because 'sensei forgets'. Her forgetfulness is addressed often when things don't make sense, especially in interviews and such. STYLE AND TRANSLATION 2) I like the writing style, so I can't help here. This is a matter of opinion. As for translations, for decades the fandom didn't have these novels available and so many fans couldn't access them. All the many translators that helped with the translations did some SOLID work of love, unrewarded. Nowadays, you have AI. Gemini, ChatGPT, etc. If you don't like the translation, buy the novels and throw them at one of these AI. You'll get fairly accurate translations from them (good luck with the cultural points and the puns.) CHERIE AND WOLF 3) I don't understand this question. Wolf and his mom seem to be all right. Cherie loves all her sons, but has a soft spot for the youngest, because he looks like her . He has strange feelings for her, on the one hand he loves his mom - as do all the brothers- and accept her as the airhead she is. On the other hand, there are probably a lot of things he disapproves of of her - ... he seems uncomfortable with her many suitors in general and the harem she had. But if this is a relationship dynamic that interests you , you can read the novels and find out. The relationship is not strained... but they're not besties.