#extract from my journal

[ramblingsfromthytruly]

extract from my journal #??

I think if [my parents] had another child, that child would've had a better relationship with them. I think my parents would've learned from the mistakes they made with me, and I think that hypothetical sibling of mine would grow up looking at me and know what not to be. I think if I was my own older sister I would look at myself and see exactly what not to be.

[shershayariaayi]

In another timeline, I confessed to you. Whether you would’ve reciprocated or not, I’ll leave that up to you.

But in another universe I would have gathered the courage to tell you that for me you have hung the stars and planets in the sky. You are the sunrise I would not mind giving up my sleep for.

That loving you has become easier than breathing. That I imagined you whenever the poets and songs sung about worshiping someone to the level that everything mine automatically changes its ownership to your name.

That I am not ashamed or embarrassed to fall in love with my best friend. That I am not afraid to change myself for the better if it means I have the honour to communicate with you for however short or long time.

In another life, I would’ve professed to the one person it mattered the most: you.

- z.t. (Extract from a story I’ll never finish)

taglist: @curseofaphrodite

[rpfofficial]

what i wouldn't give to be lounging naked in a deck chair basking in the summer sun while drinking a cool glass of milk with my good buddy franz kafka . and i dont even like milk

[reasonsforhope]

"Tim Friede’s YouTube channel is home to a collection of videos depicting the Wisconsin-native truck mechanic subjecting himself to purposeful snake bites, blood slowly dripping down his arms.

For the past 20 years, Friede has been one of the most notorious “unconventional” medical researchers, undergoing over 200 bites from the world’s deadliest snakes — and more than four times as many — 850 — venomous injections. 

He did it all in the name of science.

According to the World Health Organization, an estimated 100,000 people are killed by snake bites each year, with countless more being disabled by the venom of the deadly reptiles. 

While life-saving anti-venom is available, very few countries actually have the capacity to produce it properly, given that most bites occur in remote and rural areas, and anti-venom requires arduous sourcing and accuracy. 

But Friede’s blood is now full of antibodies, following decades of strategic exposure to the neurotoxins of mambas, cobras, and other lethal slithering critters.

His blood is now the source material researchers are using to develop an anti-venom capable of neutralizing a broad spectrum of snake bites...

Friede started this hobby — which he is indeed adamant no one else tries at home — out of sheer curiosity in childhood. After playing with harmless garter snakes in his youth, he began keeping more dangerous species of snakes as pets. At one point, he had 60 of them in his home basement.

In 1999, he began extracting venom from his snakes, drying it, diluting it, and injecting himself with tiny doses — keeping meticulous records as he went.

He had one major hospitalization in 2001, when he was paralyzed and in a coma for four days. But instead of giving up, he doubled down. 

“In hindsight, I’m glad it happened,” Friede told The Times. “I never made another mistake.”

Jacob Glanville, an immunologist and founder of biotech company Centivax, stumbled on Friede’s videos.

Now, Friede is the director of herpetology at Centivax and serves as something of a “human lab” to Glanville.

“For a period of nearly 18 years, [Tim] had undertaken hundreds of bites and self-immunizations with escalating doses from 16 species of very lethal snakes that would normally a kill a horse,” Glanville told The Guardian.

“It blew my mind. I contacted him because I thought if anyone in the world has these properly neutralizing antibodies, it’s him.”

To develop the new anti-venom, Glanville and his fellow researchers identified 19 of the world’s deadliest snakes — in the elapid family — which kill their prey by injecting neurotoxins into their bloodstream, paralyzing muscles (including the big, important ones, like the heart and lungs).

The trouble is, each species in the elapid family has a slightly different toxin, meaning they would each require their own anti-venom.

But Friede’s blood contains certain fragments of each of these toxins; protein molecules seen across the various species. Because of his decades of service to science, his blood also contains the antibodies required to neutralize these toxins, preventing them from sticking to human cells and causing harm.

Combining the antibodies LNX-D09, SNX-B03, and a small molecule called varespladib that inhibits venom toxins, Centivax has successfully created a treatment effective against the entire range of 19 species’ toxins.

Their work, which was recently published in the journal Cell, will soon be tested outside of the lab. 

Trials will start with using the serum to treat dogs admitted to Australian veterinary clinics for snake bites. Assuming that goes well, the next step will be to administer human tests.

Researchers also believe that because the serum stems from a human, this should also lower the risk of allergic reactions when being administered to other people. 

“The final product would be a single, pan-anti-venom cocktail,” Professor Peter Kwong of Columbia University, a senior author of the study, told The Times.

Or, he added, they could make two: “One that is for the elapids, and another that is for the viperids, because some areas of the world only have one or the other.”

As for Friede, he maintains his affinity for snakes, though his last bite was in November 2018, when he said “enough is enough,” according to The New York Times.

By then, he had certainly done enough. His pursuit of immunity could feasibly save countless lives.

“I’m really proud that I can do something in life for humanity,” Friede told The New York Times, “to make a difference for people that are 8,000 miles away, that I’m never going to meet, never going to talk to, never going to see, probably.”

-via GoodGoodGood, May 2, 2025

[thepositiveturtleblog]

I guess moving out and living on your own you come to realise that we are all just people trying to figure it out. Judging someone based on them living their life trying to figure shit out Is a dick move in and of itself.

[pinkyjulien]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard

▶ Extracted Asset Drive Folder

Recently finished my first DAV playthrough and wanted to get my hands into the files 🤚 so just like I did with CP77, I put up little google drive folder with extracted assets! Made possible thanks to the Frostbite Modding Tool ◀

OBVIOUS Spoiler warning - I don't recommend looking at the files until you're done with the game's main story!

I wasn't able to grab everything just yet as the majority of assets aren't fully accessible yet (corrupted/missing data). Expect some extracted assets to have some artifacts as well!

But you can already find:

HUD elements

Codex entries's full art

CC, Map, Journal Icons

...and more!

Every elements has been sorted in folders for an (hopefully) easy browsing - I'll try to keep this drive updated :3

▶ THIS IS FOR PERSONAL USE ONLY!

You can use the assets for your videos, thumbnails, character templates, art, mods... but do NOT use these assets for any commercial purposes! Every assets and files are the property of Bioware and their artists

This is from a fan for fans, let's keep it fair and fun! 🙏

If you appreciate my work consider supporting me on Ko-Fi 💜

[amourcheol]

blurring the lines (teaser)

❝Why learn the complexities of desire all by yourself, when your dearest friend can merely teach you?❞

bridgerton! au | friends with benefits! au | smut, fluff | approx. 30k words (1.6k words for teaser)

s u m m a r y : you think you know everything about your best friend, dashing bachelor joshua hong. when you stumble upon his suggestive literature from his recent travels, however, reading even an extract is enough to make you question everything. unsure of your newfound feelings, you turn to your confidante, unaware of just how much knowledge—and experience—he has to offer.

c o n t e n t : best friend! joshua, best friend! soonyoung too, references of real erotic literature from the 1700s because this is not an amourcheol fic without historical accuracy, references of other members, lady whistledown will be present, soonyoung is the real mvp in this fic, shua acts like a man </3 mature warnings -> tons of sexual tension, making out, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (regency protection is goofy mb), mc experiences crazy overstimulation, corruption kink (!!!), more tba

a u t h o r ' s n o t e : bonjour hola bridgerton s4 sneak peak dropped which means i ofc had to drop a sneak peak of my own !! even tho i am over a week late !! send an ask if you wish to be tagged! hope you enjoy the teaser ;)

playlist | series masterlist | main masterlist

"WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS?"

Involuntarily your eyes flickered to the table, and he followed, turning his head to the study, which he noticed immediately was tidied—tampered with. "You went through my things?”

“I did not mean to!” you exclaimed, gaping at his sudden charge towards the desk, you hot at his heels. “I just thought it looked like a mess, so I tried cleaning it—”

“You are not a servant,” he cut off, darting over the new order of his account books, as well as the fiction which you had assembled. “You are not required to look after me like that.”

“I know, but—”

“And sneaking out with my possessions? Without my permission?” He smacked the book on the table, making you flinch. “I thought you better than that.”

You were better than that—well, at least until tonight. You ransacked your mind for an excuse, any form of escape, except your words were absolutely pathetic. “You have never minded me reading your novels before,” you attempted. “In fact, you encouraged me to scour your shelves.”

He looked at the book again—a moment too long—and went back to set a slight glare upon you. “Well, my journal is not a trivial novel. It was private…not meant for you.”

You knew that. What did not settle well, though, was that your dearest friend, who had shared his every worry, his every confession to you, had been doing things you had no inkling of, things that incited such…extraordinary feelings from you. 

You had to know what more lay in those pages—and why you had felt the way you felt in those pages which your eyes did scour. “I read it.”

His glare faltered. “How much?”

That question was answered with another. “What was it, Joshua?” You stepped forward, a timid gesture, so you could catch a look at the hardback again. “I…I read some pages, and…what was she doing?”

His hand on his journal pushed it back. “I do not know.”

“Liar,” you got out, and he pursed his lips. You knew him irritatingly well. “You are keeping things from me.” 

“It is not keeping things from you,” he countered, frustration rising in his voice. “It is…protecting you from those…things.” 

“Tell me what those things are, Joshua,” you demanded, quietly but not softly. “It has rattled you enough. That has never happened to you.”

But he was silent. Eerily quiet, merely the rustle of his clothes, the soft thunk of his novella settled back with the French novels which raised your suspicions. A boundary made—a rejection established. 

Perhaps you would have respected it in another lifetime—in a world where you had not indulged your curiosity, set your eyes upon entities which were not for you to explore. Perhaps you would have respected it even if Joshua had offered to enlighten you—maybe blushed and ran away, and vowed never to look through his possessions again. 

The writings had rattled you, though, more than he realised. Social etiquette—good common sense would have expected you to respect his opinion, opinions of society, and drop the subject. 

Joshua Hong, however, was your greatest friend. No societal expectation could change that. 

So you opted to push the limits. Refuse the silence to be the end of this matter.

“I read enough, you know. To feel…” A pause. “I cannot even describe to you how I felt, because I have never felt that way before.” You tried to find the right words, a single confession out of order and he would stop listening—or so you thought. “There was an extract you wrote, Joshua, which had certain…descriptions…” Burning. Pleasure. Naked. Fire. Ecstasy. “There was a girl who was doing something. I am unsure what she was doing specifically, but…what she felt watching them…”

A soft exhale released from you, and almost instinctively Joshua released his own breath. “I think I…um, I think I felt a remnant of it.” 

He blurted out, barely a whisper, “You what?”

You looked at him—barely managed a nod. “I do not…don’t even know what she was doing with her fingers—” Joshua’s sudden coughing interrupted you, holding a fist to his lips to stop himself—“But whatever it was…I want to know what it was.” 

You watched the man stay deathly still, yet the emotions racing behind his face were certain. Not only were you rattled, but had passed this strange sensation to him. Had he never felt it before? You wondered, surprised by the similarity of his reaction to yours. 

He then responded to you, and you realised your mistake. “You cannot.”

Another boundary. Another opportunity to cross it. “Why?” This time, you stepped closer to him. “Why can I not know?” He was silent once more, and this time, you would not accept it. “Why are you hiding from me?”

“Because you are a lady!” he finally cut out, an agitated sigh coming straight after. “You are not to know such…such material.”

A lady…that you were aware of, but that still did not answer the question. Joshua watched, Joshua did whatever he had done to a lady. The answer was not good enough.

Judging by the increasing agitation in your friend’s countenance, he knew it too. It was at that point, though, when you truly noticed his harsh sighs, the tight fists—one at his mouth now trudging to the table, and the other secured at his hip—figure rigid. How affected he was by your questioning.

As if he mirrored the same sensations as you experienced.

“Is it…” You pursed your lips. “Is it because you were feeling them too?” 

A blink back—the only recognition of shock. You held onto this, continuing, “Tell me the truth, Joshua. You said yourself, no? That a lady cannot know, but you did not say a gentleman cannot either. You were feeling it too, were you not?”

His eyes were widening with your every word, and he stepped back, almost as if to run away. You did not need an answer from him now—it was abundantly clear that he had undergone such passions, as if it was not certain as you read it. There was only one question left in your arsenal now.

Joshua could have collapsed to the study floor. He heard the questions, and suddenly all he could do was gape at you. The determined curiosity in your eyes, the resolute stature of your body, closer than he last remembered. Oh, he would die before answering such a thing to you. He could not. He could not. 

“_____, it is late,” he began after a long time. The slight hope on your face leaving instinctively dampened his spirits. “It is already rash that you came here without a chaperone and I refuse to let you become the centre of ill conversation.”

And there it was. The supposed end. 

You did not realise how disappointed you were until you found your voice again, much graver than you expected. “So that is how it will be.”

Fine. If your best friend would not entrust you with such information, you would find the next person who would not be so apprehensive. A fortunate situation that you already had a man in mind.

As you turned on your heel, you heard him ask, “Where are you going?”

You did not stop your walk away, looking over your shoulder as you retorted, “To Soonyoung. At least he will be honest with me, if you choose not to be.”

He must have said something, but you did not deign to hear, only looking to the door, which was slightly ajar. You held your hand out, ready to open it further. 

Another force—another hand, larger than yours, slammed the door shut, jumping you out of your skin. Quickly you swivelled to see Joshua, breathing slightly uneven as his hand stayed right beside your head, resting against the wood. “Good God,” you got out, “What was that for?”

“You cannot go to Soonyoung,” he said instead, gaze frantic. 

You furrowed your brows. “Why?” 

He frowned. He could tell from your irritation that you assumed it was jealousy, a worse morphing of cowardice. It was not jealousy—nothing like that. Soonyoung was like a brother to him, and he knew that if there was anyone else you could have gone to without eliciting scandal, then it was that eccentric. He would explain everything to his friend, and be done with it without furthering his own curiosity. 

With that in mind, he would also tell you everything. Joshua was aware that there were skeletons in the closet of such matters, and your door was already slightly ajar. Should you go to Soonyoung to seek counsel, he would break down the doors, and suffocate you with the bones of such sensitive information.

What you asked was no normal feat. What you asked was sensitive. Precious. Soonyoung was trustworthy, but he was not careful. 

Joshua, on the other hand, was careful. Very careful, if he thought so himself. 

“He would not…explain it properly,” he offered instead. 

“At least he will explain it,” you countered, twisting your mouth. “I’d rather something than nothing at all.” 

His brows knitted together, desperation rising. “You have to understand me, _____.”

“Not after this.” You tried to avert his gaze, but his eyes—for the very first time—were incredibly hard to ignore. “Let me out the door.”

His reply, although perturbed, was clear. “I cannot.”

“Then tell me, Joshua,” you demanded. “Tell me what she was doing.” 

He should have stayed silent forever. What he should have done—as a gentleman, as you yourself had deemed him—was keep his mouth shut. 

A semblance of his sanity slipped once he uttered the fated words.

“She was touching herself.”

s e r i e s t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @smiileflower @ourkivee @alyssa19123456 @xylatox @lexyraeworld @fancypeacepersona @tjjth @zezedoesshit @ochidize @sankriin @okiedokrie-main @reiofsuns2001 @gyuguys @livixxn @livelaughloveseventeen @peepeepoopooharrie @shinaely @uhdrienne @maple249

[tallulahneale]

Dear Diary

Summary: Smoke and Stack read Tallie's diary to find out she's been crushing on Stack more than him.

A/N: This was the dynamic I picked up on; Smoke is mean-ish and headstrong while Stack is playful and easy going. 

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Sexual content

Part 2

Looking through her online calendar, Tallie proceeds to make a note of the catering orders for the week ahead.

“Journal time!” She beams, reaching to the shelf for the notebook that keeps her thoughts, experiences and feelings a secret. But to no avail. She searched everywhere for it!

“For a pink fluffy hardcover, it should not be that hard to spot.” She mutters pacing around her room.

Meanwhile…

Smoke is running through the Club Juke ledger, while Stack creates the monthly ad for their social media pages.

“Since when do you keep a notebook?” Smoke asks his twin, pointing at the pink feathered jotter in the midst of their bookstand.

“Do I look like I even like writing?” he replies with a guffaws, lounging on velvet wood settee. With mild curiosity, Smoke wedges the jotter from it's place. The feathers on the spine tickle him as he glides a finger down the hardcover, opening the unknown jotter.

‘Dear diary, Today was a blast at Club Juke! They loved the food and it was great meeting the rest of the team-

“Cute.” a twitch forming at the corner of his lips, remembering the look of joy in Tallie’s eyes. He keeps reading with intrigue.

St and Sm kept me entertained again while doing their meal prep, and boyyyy was I grateful for the distraction. Sm was intimidating (as per usual) so it didn't bother me when he left. St stayed with me tho❤️  I love like when St's around. The playful glint of his eyes and wide stance when he lurks in the hall makes my thigh clench. and his eyes. his muthafreakin eyes! They just draw me in. I’d loveee to see 'em eyes roll back when/if I ride his fac-’

“Woah, that’s enough” Smoke mutters to himself

“You’ll never believe what’s been written on these pages” He shares, passing the jotter over to Stack with the leather tassel bookmark wedged open on the page in question.

Stack collects the jotter with a suspicious glance, taking in the feminine attributes of the dainty pages. He flips it closed to check for a name but there is none, he returns to the indicated page. As he reads, his eyebrows raise, he swallows spit causing his adam apple to bobble, before smirking.

“I think Tallie should swing by… we do need a meal prep soon” He grins, Smoke nods and drafts a note to send.

Back at Tallie’s…

A shiver shocks her bones, a superstition that a conversation is being had on her behalf. The diary is yet to be found and that makes her worry even more. In the wrong hands, it could spoil her good girl reputation. A ding is heard from the laptop resting on her desk; an email notification.

Meal prep requests from Smoke&Stack Twins. (Accept/Decline)

She smiles with relief while accepting the order, it’s always breeze cooking for them. Tallie shoots a quick reply to confirm the time and date.

———

With no luck, her diary remains lost and the appointment with the twins was here. She wanted to write a quick piece before seeing them, it would help keep her feelings at bay.

“I’ll be fine” She assures herself greeting the staff at the concierge and walking up to their floor. Tallie knocks on the door in a cheerfully way while waiting for someone to let her in.

Silence.

“They know I’m comin', right?” She says waiting patiently.

With another knock, a buzz of the bell and no response she lets herself in. The hallway is eerily quiet so she turns on the lights that lead to the kitchen. All the ingredients are already laid out on the prep corner of the kitchen counter. Butter, eggs, sugar, flour, vanilla extract, cinnamon, pecans; seems like the twins are craving pastries this week. Tallie hears a baritone mumble and quickly glances around the open plan room. Lo and behold Smoke has been lounging on the couch, the whole damn time. 

“Didn’t you hear the bell?!” She snaps at Smoke, he is the only one present. Her tone is sharp, yes, but not writing in the diary has left her on edge. Especially today... the hidden thoughts were running wild.

Choosing the perfect time to emerge, Stack walks in through the hallway in a regal terry cotton robe. She peers up at his face and eyes him to his feet. His hair is damp with the robe hung loosely around his torso. The belt not fully tied. She glances back up, his eyes already catching her lustful stare. Flustered, she looks down and then back to Smoke, who remains on the couch.

“Is she taking that tone with you or me?” Smoke asks turning to his twin with a mischievous smirk, to which Stack smirks back with a shrug.

“I don’t need to be here.” She whisper but not quietly enough. 

“Yeah but you want to be here… don’t you?” The mischief behind his smirk is now exposed as he point to the item in Smoke’s hand. Lifting up his left hand with a sway, you see the features of a very familiar notebook.

“That’s my diary!” She squirms. His back is faced away from her but she knew he is smirking like a cat that caught a canary. The flight or fight response has kicked in. Just as Tallie decides to make an attempt to run and snatch it, Stack strolls over to the kitchen counter shaking his head in warning. She freezes, glancing through her peripheral at Smoke still with her diary held high, the tassel moves…mocking her in an Irish jig. Stack steps closer to hover behind her, reading her bright eyes and steady breaths. The rope frees from its hold and leaves him open, chest bare and clad in fitting undergarments.

She gasps as he turns her flushed against the counter, facing the torment of her lust. His hands rest on the countertop, caging Tallie in. 

“Secret’s out brown sugar” He growls into her ear.

Smoke finally turns to face them, striding to the empty counter stool. He positions himself directly opposite Tallie and Stack, still smirking and flipping through the pages. She attempts to nab it back but is left bent at the waist and pressed on the surface. Stack remains behind her, tracing delicate touches across the small of her back. Keeping his hips still but firm enough for her to feel the warmth of his nether regions.

“Give it back!” She barks, suddenly fuelled by desire and fear.

“You need to watch that tone Tallie” Stack warns from behind her, removing his hand from her back and returning it to the countertop. She whimpers at the loss of his warm and rich touch.

“I knew you didn’t see me like how we both see you” Smoke starts “You sure do express yourself more on a page than in person.”

She response with a glare, keeping a sharp gaze on him and her silly little diary. ‘Don’t falter, don’t falter, don’t falter’ she thinks to herself, but Stack's gentle caress on her arm cause a shiver to crawl up her spine and lashes to flutter in want.

“I don’t know… what your talking abo-”

Stack smirks at her denial as he tugs Tallie upright, fitting into the curve of her back as he latches onto her neck. A loud mewl escapes her lips as he savagely nibbles, licks and sucks at the pulsing jugular.

“St-tack” she stutter intwining their fingers, pulling his hand to her bountiful chest. 

“Whose eyes do you want to see roll back?” Smoke demands, gloating at her demise. “Seems like it’s yours, huh?”

“W-whaa-?” Another moan slips out as Stack attacks her viciously. She always had a feeling that he had a way, with that thick tongue of his. From watching him wrap his joints to it poking out when he counts a stack of bills. Bring her back to the earthy plane, he eases off her neck moving to nibble at curve of her lobe.

“It is mine?” Stack asks, pressing the stiffening bulge of his thickness against the cleft of her rounded plump cheeks. All this while Smoke remains vigilant, stoic and unbothered.

“I-i want… w-want” she stutters, eyes flickering like a light in a horror movie, unable to handle the balance of Smoke’s smouldering gaze and Stack’s desire-filled touch. 

“Talk to us Tallie” Smoke mocks her, still firm in his demeanour.

“I want my diary back!” She cries out in longing and thirst. Being touched but not touched enough left her in a limbo. It felt like punishment. The teasing, the taunting, the edging  just because of her silly little diary. These men are a force to worship; more than just their aura, more than just their fierce gaze, everything.

“Still got tha’ tone on her Stack” Smoke says with a shrug of his hands and shoulders “You got work to do.”

He stands up and pushes the diary open on the last entry, the title ridicules her ‘Stack&Smoke twins’. Stack moves away from her space, she whines, eyes begging him not to let go.

“Relax” Smoke whispers smugly.

Stack crouches down, making his way under the flimsy fabric of her summer dress. Comfortably sat on the pristine marble flooring. With the back of his head resting against the cupboard doors, he looks up at her. The eyes that draw her in, the eyes that burn with so much compassion and power.

She looks down in acknowledgement, trapping his head between her warm supple thighs like a cushion. Smoke whistles. Her attention returns back to him as he winks. 

“I’d love to give you more, but that diary’s in your hands now.” He states, stroking the tent formed by his covered length. Deviously taking in her expression.

Her breath hitches at the gentle swat across her southern breed cheeks.

“And so it begins” She hears Stack mumble beneath her. 

He grips the thighs, holding her in place. The fabric of her panties is transparent, the wetness creating a friction. With the tip of his nose sliding against her covered lips.

His tongue follows the out line of her puffy lips through the fabric. tracing each curve up to her pulsing swollen clit and down to the entrance of her waterfall. He glides along, sucking at the fabric, wanting to taste it all.

“Pll-eease Sttackk” She begs

There’s a tut in the background. Smoke is still root on the chair, captivated at her lust.

“Ask properly” He advises, zoned in on her nipple that tries to escape the fitted blouse.

Stack nips at her inner thigh, swatting her cheeks twice in admonishment. She corrects her fault immediately, knowing what needs to be said.

“P-pl-lease Smo-ke, please Stackkk” She purrs.

With a nod, he pulls her panties to the side and slips in like a thief in the night. Tallie grinds on his thick warm wet tongue, his nose tapping at the clit. Her eyes tear-up and her fingers clenching into a fist, she watches as Smoke beckons her to lean forward. He pulls her bottom lip open, invading her mouth with his thumb. At the same time, Stack swats her again and grips the heated flesh of her hips pulling her onto his gushy slick face. Not hovering, he wants her whole weight.

The fiery gaze from Smoke was intense, the simultaneous pressure from Stack causes her to hump his lips with passion. Tallie sucks hard on his thumb, saliva wetting his finger drooling down into his palm. He snatches his thumb back while maintain the leering look of lust she held in her soul. He moves slowly, sinking his hand beneath his slacks and toys with the tip of his throbbing head, the wetness of her mouth on his thumb giving him enough friction. She mewls in delight as his paces quickens.

Stack isn’t letting up either, her slit is plunged with his fingers and her sensitive nub caressed by his tongue not yet giving her what she wanted. What she truly needed. He keeps a steady pace dancing around her clit as the wetness pools on his tongue like warm honey, down his goatee and across his freshly shaven cheeks. Tallie cries, letting out a whiny plea, asking for nothing but to cum. Her head is spinning, moaning feverishly as he eyes flutter from the cool breeze against her nipples.

"She's close" Smoke mutters, grinding into his palm as he sucks in his bottom lip.

Swats her again in warning, Stack reaches the sweet spot and thrashes his tongue. Desperate for her desire, her juice, her warm honey. Tallie let's go with a screech. She spasms on his tongue riding until her knees buckle, her eyes are back on Smoke wanting to see him finish with her. But he keeps his length hidden from her view, stroking it enough to release some tension.

Tallie can feel it. Stack can feel it. Smoke can feel it. It was in the air, the moment, she felt the gravity in the room suddenly drop, then a burst of warmth as she floods Stack with the essence of her womanhood for the second time. The twins groans in admiration. Smoke reluctantly frees his length, still tight and hard. Stack just as burdened but makes no move to relieve his discomfort.

It was all about her, these twins were selfless to the core. Smoke walks away snatching the diary from where it lay. Abandoned in the midst of their activities.

“You off all people should kno’ ” Stack starts as he stands up, placing a kiss along her chin and down her throat “Closed mouth don’t get fed.”

Tallie still in shock at the energy of the twins, blurts the first though that comes to mind.

“Do I still have to bake?”

“Do you want a bun in your oven?” The twins reply simultaneously. 

She watches as they glance over their shoulder to peer at her, mischief written all over their faces.

PART 2

A/N: Watch the movie if you haven’t already!!!! (p.s did y'all notice the play on words with her waiting to be 'let in'?)

[the-other-art-blog]

Violet to Colin: "You're one of my most sensitive children."

The fandom: "How can she say that! Anthony, Benedict bla, bla bla..."

Colin is ONE of her most sensitive children. ONE, just ONE of them. And she's right.

ONE OF HER MOST SENSITIVE CHILDREN

He was the only one who indulged Violet and let her introduce him to debutantes in s1, while Anthony fucked his mistress and Ben went to orgies.

He was a complete gentleman with Marina. AND defended her when Anthony implied something about her.

And when he learned the truth, he confessed that he would have married her if she had told him the truth. 🥹

He danced with Pen after Cressida bullied her.

He wrote dozens of letters that his family of 8 could not care to respond to often. There are 8 of them!

He worried about Ben in s2 and supported him on his application to the Academy.

He learned the truth of Jack Featherington and instead of simply leaving, he did something about it. Not only did he help the Featherington family, but he saved other lords from being scammed.

He apologized to Will, explained why he acted rudely AND made amends to repair the damage by bringing men to Will's club.

He returned with gifts for everyone, but he seemed particularly thoughtful to his sisters and mother. A perfume for Hyacinth, music for Francesca, and a book for Eloise 🥹. Violet was so moved by his gift and here we have a lovely headcanon on the watch:

Then with Pen...

He runs after Pen, despite other men wanting to know about his adventures.

He acknowledges his mistake and immediately tries to apologize to Pen in the Four Seasons Ball.

The next day, he comes back with a heartfelt apology.

Then, he offers her help, despite the risk of scandal and embarrassment for him. He knows Pen has no one else.

He goes to see Pen at night to make sure she's ok. And when she asks him for a kiss, he does it so sweetly.

He is brave enough to leave the men who just want to know about his sexual life.

HE WAS BRAVE ENOUGH TO ASK, as soon as he put himself together and understood his feelings. He didn't play jealousy games like others, he went and put his heart on the table. He didn't even know about Pen's feelings and he risked it!

Some extracts from Colin's journals show that his family is always in his thoughts.

You can see why Violet, as the good mother that she is, can tell how sensitive he is.

Colin travels during the summer and comes back during the season to be with his family. It angers me that people think he's selfish for this when Benedict also abandons the family to fuck.

And yet, both Colin and Ben are sensitive. BOTH OF THEM, Francesca too. I wouldn't call Hyacinth or Gregory sensitive right now, and before s3, I wouldn't include Eloise either.

Anyway, I needed to get this out because I am so fucking tired of Kanthonies and Benophies making tantrums about this line.

I'm sure when s4 comes, we are going to see a moment between Violet and Ben where she acknowledges how amazing he is and everything he has done for the family. But not now, because this is COLIN'S SEASON.

(NOTE: If you are thinking of reblogging this post with the tag #Colin is the most sensitive, kindly fuck off. I made this post to fight the Kanthonies and Benophie that are attacking Colin, not to validate your own need to make Colin superior to other characters. HE IS ONE OF THE MOST SENSITIVE CHILDREN, ONE)

[crescenthistory]

heyy carina, I hope you have a safe travel♡ how about our beloved Remus with the 'Person A waking up to a sleeping Person B clinging onto them tightly.' prompt and 'Saying "you're lucky I love you" and realizing too late what they said' prompt

for the journeys & journals mini-event <3

wc: 1.5k

cw: gn!reader, best friends to lovers, instinctual communication, physical affection, fluff, first kiss, reader pov, in denial!reader that can be interpreted as shy, reserved, etc.

It’s normal to be this close with your best friend.

That was what ran through your mind over and over like a mantra as you fell asleep in Remus’ arms yet again. This time, the excuse was that the get-together at James and Regulus’ stretched too long into the night, and the walk to Remus’ was simply shorter. You already had a toothbrush and your medication there. Convenient. 

It was only natural you wake up in his arms, the air of his flat light with dust particles dancing in the incoming morning sun. Both of you wearing some of Remus’ worn pyjamas, with his arms around your waist and his face buried in the crook of your neck, soft breathing fanning out over your skin informing you that he was still asleep.

You had been thinking more lately. And you were thinking even harder now, with your fingertips slipped up under the hem of his shirt, as if they belonged there.

Whenever you thought like this, Remus would pinch the space between your brows to emphasise the furrow and tell you “nothing good ever comes of that, dovey.” You always listened to Remus – you convinced yourself that that was the reason you had kept avoiding this specific line of thinking for years.

Truth is, you were a coward. And hopelessly in lo–

“Mm, good morning, dove.” Remus' voice rumbled against your skin, brushing his nose against your pulse point. You were amazed he could realise you’re awake without you moving or saying anything.

You smiled nonetheless. “Good morning, Remus.”

He tightened his grip on you, pulling you closer to him, despite your limbs already being an incomprehensible, tangled mess. Whether it was because he heard the shakiness in your voice, or because that is a normal thing for a best friend to do at 10 AM in the morning, you had no idea.

“Staying for breakfast?” he mumbled after a minute.

Normally, you would say yes without hesitating. Today, though, you were doing all this damned thinking, stalling you.

Remus answered for you. “Staying for breakfast,” he said, this time in the affirmative. He nuzzled into your shoulder and breathed you in.

“Well, if you simply insist.” You kept your voice light, breezy. You felt very breezy. And you were not in lov–

“I do, actually. The bastard that I am, keeping you here against your will.”

You knew he was joking, but even hearing Remus’ faux self-deprecation brought forth some primal, instinctual reaction in you, instilled after years of deconstructing every piece of misguided direction his father had drilled into him. You moved your head back enough for him to see your face, see that you were happy to be around him. “Breakfast would be lovely, my keeper.”

Remus grinned at you, lazy in the sunlit sheets. “At your beck and call, no?”

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to do that,” you argued, holding up your hands as if proving your innocence. 

He caught your hand with his, intertwining your fingers as he extracted himself from your neck to lay back against the pillow he had abandoned in your favour. He brought the hands up to his mouth to kiss the back of yours. “No, I do it because it’s fun. And I’m quite good at it.”

“That you are,” you whispered, voice too quiet to suit the moment.

Remus looked at you for a second too long, eyebrows twitching as if he was analysing you. Whatever he found, he decided to just smile at you. “The usual, then?”

“Do we have everything for the usual?” Remus had an elaborate breakfast meal he preferred to cook you up, a mixture of his and your favourites. 

His expression turned mischievous. In those moments, you saw his friendship with James, Sirius and Peter clear as day, etched into every furrow of his face. At least he had the decency to sound sheepish as he said, “I was hoping we could go to the shops.”

“The shops!” You let out a groan, rolling over to bury your face in the pillow beside his – you made a point not to let go of his hand, though. The nearest Sainsbury’s is quite the walk away. “Rem, it’s early.”

“Yes, it’s early, and I want to cook my dove a proper breakfast to wake you up. And I want to continue spending time with you. So…” 

It had taken years of friendship for Remus to get to the point where he would ask you to do anything you weren’t immediately thrilled about. The odd displayal of intimacy settled into your heart, even as you wore a mostly fake scowl to peer up at him. “Gods above. You’re lucky I love you, Lupin.”

A beat – then you realised what you had said. It was far from the first time you declared your love for him, but there was something about how the word love has been bouncing around your brain, uninvited and uncomfortable, for quite some time now that made it taste differently.

“That I am; alas, I love you more, so you must come along.” Remus’ tone and expression wore none of the weight to signify the same strife you felt at the minute.

The smart thing would have been to play off your momentary silence as you preparing yourself to get up. To brush it off, like nothing.

Then again, thinking like this had not been smart in the first place, so you were clearly not in the right headspace at the moment.

Remus’ gaze flicked back to yours when you remained frozen, looking at him in a way that was strange at best and concerning at worst. His brows furrowed properly this time as he studied you. He squeezed your hand and rolled over onto his side to see you better. “Dove?” he whispered, voice quiet. “Is everything… Are you alright?”

The anxiety you saw in his eyes told you he must think he had said something wrong. It made you ache enough to nod. Even still, you kept looking into his eyes, falling further and further down the well that was his amber eyes.

You had to physically tear yourself away and throw yourself back onto your back, putting distance between you as you let out a harsh breath. “Yeah, yeah,” you forced out, a bit choked. You made for a laugh, but failed. “Sorry.”

He didn’t let up. Instead Remus curled back against you, inadvertently pushing his plaid pantleg up as he hiked his leg over yours to lay against you. “Don’t be sorry. Hey. Hey.” 

With gentle fingers, he placed a hand on your cheek, turning it towards him. Your foreheads were a hairsbreadth apart. He looked between your eyes, fiercely studying. “What…” His question trailed off, unsure.

You looked back, confused and horrified with yourself. For a second, your gaze flickered down to his lips, noticing how they were slightly turned downwards into a frown. Almost panicked, you looked back up, just in time to see a sliver of realisation dawn in his eyes.

His expression seemed to be turning to one of entertainment, but you didn’t dare look back to his lips to see if they had changed. “Oh… uh…” He struggled to find the words. “Is this about…?”

You quite felt like going back to sleep right at this minute. You tried to turn your head back around, running despite there being no room to do so.

But Remus’ hand on your cheek remained steady, though it turned sweeter. “Hey, hey, no dove, it…” He swallowed harshly, eyes crinkling into a nervous smile. “Me too,” he whispered. “Me too.”

Your lips parted slightly. He couldn’t possibly mean…

He brought your hands still intertwined together up to his chest and pressed them against his chest. Over his heart. His gaze chased yours, and now you had the guts to check, verifying that he was in fact smiling. One look at his eyes proved it real. 

“I meant it too,” he whispered, ushering an intense amount of hope into each syllable. Hope that you understood. “I meant it too, my love.”

Your breath caught. 

Two young adults, entangled beyond what any visual glance could infer, on a cheap bed in a small flat that was made big with love. It was love.

You brought your free hand up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over his undereye as you looked at him with all the confused affection in your heart. “Yeah?” you let out. Maybe not eloquent, but he carried all the meaning in the world nonetheless.

“Yeah.” Remus’ voice was teary with laughter. “Dove, can I kiss you?”

You didn’t wait to answer him. You closed the minimal distance between you and kissed Remus Lupin, like you were always meant to.

He was your best friend – but you were also madly in love with him. And the sentiment was shared.

[screechingdefendorpuppy-blog]

My Dearest Sevika..

some more of my Hcs for Marine!Sevika and wife reader. added these as reblogs but wanted to post as their own so more people could find it and enjoy.

Bonus cuz I keeping day dreaming

• she send you a polaroid where she is wearing her new scarf along with her uniform.

• once you witness a police raid at your neighbors house and you wrote her about it. She devours that entry to the journal imagining how you would tell her. Giving it more of a dramatic flare spilling some of your chai.

• you send her a recent photo of you and buck (your dog). She keeps it on her at all times right along with the very first photo you sent her when yall started dating. Its a lil faded but she cant get herself to part with it.

• her squad always tease her when she gets her care package. All in good fun! However they will give her space so she can enjoy reading the journal.

•she always shares the baked goods with them. And some gossip that you tell her about.

•your journal entries have made the distance between you bearable. Unbeknownst to you, your entries not only keeps her moral high but the whole squads as well.

And the angst starts now!

• you are currently writing an entry in your journal to sevika telling her about daily life, Your class shenanigans and your new next door neighbors and their mute daughter.

•how you babysit her while they have their weekly date night and she is teaching you sign to be able to communicate better

•You are so into writing you dont notice the car that park in the curb. Or the two soldiers that step out of it.

• suddenly the sunlight is interrupted by a shadow making you look up and come face to face with…Ran

• you first notice the sling on her arm and the scratches on her face. Shes in uniform and…. You breath stops, your pulse takes over your senses

•Rans lips move but its doesnt make any sense.. convoy…extraction….ambush… Sevika.

•Its a good thing you were already sitting cuz you are sure that your legs would’ve given out.

• Captain Sevika has been declared KIA.

(Small Time skip)

• you feel empty, just like the casket that was buried two months ago.

• the journal has since stayed untouched.

•two months of tears, of pain from an invisible wound. Two months of trying to sleep in a bed that feels way to big and cold. A house to big and cold.

•your neighbors jinx and ekko keep an eye on you daily. Coming over with isha for family dinner every night since the funeral.

•its been hard but you are trying to move forward. To be the resilient woman Sevika had fallen in love with.

•but it was hard, not been able to talk to her, to see her, to hear her. Was taking a toll on you

• till one Friday you hear a knock at the door at mid day.

•you open it to reveal isha brandishing her medal and trophy for her school science project.

• she runs inside signing away excited to tell you all about it.

•you smile as you follow along to her story about the fair and how her experiment went off without a hitch.

• finally isha finishes her rambling looking at you with pride. Then you watch as her expression falls into a shy look but s small smile still present.

• “can we…” she stops mid sign second guessing herself

• "can we what hun?" You ask her encouraging her to tell you.

•she takes a deep breath before she signs… “can we tell sevika about it?”

• your heart stops “ t-tell sev…(you clear your throat) tell sevi about your science fair?”

• isha nods her head and looks at you waiting.

• tear prickle your eyes but you smile. They fall down your cheeks as you look at the lil girl and say “I think thats a great Idea.”

• after retrieving the journal you both walk over to the dining table and sit side by side.

• you open the journal to an empty page and poise yourself ready to write for the first time in two months. In that moment you start what you call your road to healing as you start your entry with three simple words.

“My Dearest Sevika….”

[ramblingsfromthytruly]

i have always said that i would never have kids but i was a kid myself and a lot of kids do say that because they can't fathom the thought. i'm 15 now and yes i'm still a kid but i definitely do not ever want to be pregnant nor do i particularly crave kids, but i think if i do i'll adopt. maybe someone around the age of 10 or older because the older the kid the less likely they'll be adopted unfortunately. my mind may change in the future but one thing i know is if i ever do decide to adopt a kid, it won't be out of loneliness or because i'm "supposed to" but rather because i want to nurture a child into an adult and try to give them the means to succeed in life. if i ever adopt, it'll probably be a tad "later" in life than people usually expect. i want do something related to psychology and research. i'll probably end up getting a doctorate or something. if i adopt it'll probably happen during the last years, or after, my education. my parents certainly aren't the worst parents and i know they love me but they have made so many mistakes i know not to make. but they've also showed me a few traits i know creates a better parent. i don't think i will ever end up in a romantic relationship for the rest of my life. i'm not aro-spec (maybe demi idk) but i just don't see myself as the person who will end up with a typical happily ever after with a wife or so. but i still want romance, i know i don't need it though. maybe i'll end up in found family situation, that sounds appealing. the idea of marriage makes me uneasy, not the idea of a long-term romantic relationship but the legalities and the ceremonies and whatnot. maybe my mind will change as i grow and see more examples of married couples that aren't strictly stereotypical heteronormative indian parents. idk what i'm rambling about now but i remember not even a few months ago i couldn't even fathom the idea of being a mother. i am growing and learning more about myself and so my views change. not having kids or having kids, no decision is "better" than the other as long as it's true to your desires and wants and your capabilities. there is nothing i detest more than parents who had children they didn't want to have or didn't have the means to raise. people shouldn't be pressurised to have kids to check this imaginary box of an imaginary list of things that apparently constitute making your life "complete". there was no structure to this but oh well i'm most honest in these kinds of rambles.

[shershayariaayi]

There is something comforting about a bookstore being placed on a busy street. It is like having a white piece being surrounded by black pieces in chess; like that one kid quietly eating their lunch while being surrounded by kids who are running, screaming and creating chaos. It is like being on a crowded beach with noise cancellation earbuds. It’s being different in the midst of commoners yet somehow not so different that everyone starts noticing you.

- z.t. (Extract from a story I want to finish)

taglist: @curseofaphrodite

[wrizard]

wrizard's super basic guide to y-chromosome-based identification!!

for those interested, on this fitzcovery day:

a dear friend asked me to explain why i felt completely insane about the phrase "genetic distance of one" and, as usual, i got overexcited and wrote an entire thing about it complete with goofy images! it's on twt HERE, but i figured it would also be nice to pop it up here also. SO. with the caveat that it has been many years since my last bio class and this is VERY OVERSIMPLIFIED. here's

Human DNA is grouped into chromosomes. We generally have TWO of each chromosome: 22 pairs (numbered 1-22), plus one pair of sex chromosome (typically either two X-chromosomes (XX), or one X-chromosome and one Y-chromosome (XY)). That's 23 pairs, or 46 chromosomes, in total.

When producing sex cells, matching chromosome pairs will RECOMBINE (swap bits of information) - eg. one Chromosome 4 will remix itself with the other Chromosome 4, making TWO UNIQUE C4s. When the cell splits into two sex cells, each sex cell will carry ONE unique C4.

That's sexual reproduction! Every new offspring is genetically unique - new combinations of traits pop up quickly, and if they improve reproductive fitness, can be passed on to future offspring. This allows for rapid adaptation and changes in a species over time.

But what about Y-chromosomes, which don’t have pairs? They can't recombine in the way paired chromosomes can - which means Y-chromosomes pretty much only change via mutation (errors in copying DNA). Mutation is VERY slow, especially compared to recombination.

This means that when an XY parent passes down their Y-chromosome to a child, chances are high that chromosome will have few, if any, changes – as opposed to X-chromosomes, which recombine in both XX parents and children, shuffling genetic information all over the place.

Due to this slow rate of change, Y-chromosomes can be more easily tracked through the generations than other human chromosomes. A Y-chromosome might be passed down nearly unchanged for hundreds of years from genetic father to genetic son.

GENETIC DISTANCE refers to the measurement of difference between two sets of DNA. The lower the genetic distance, the more closely related the two samples are likely to be. A genetic distance of 1 means the samples are close to identical.

Because we know how slowly Y-chromosomes change over time, we know that if the Y-chromosomes of two people have a low genetic distance, this implies that those people are paternally related – even if the two people live/lived hundreds of years apart.

In the case of Captain James Fitzjames, genetic data was extracted from a set of unidentified remains (a molar from a disarticulated mandible). 17 genetic markers from the molar’s Y-chromosome were compared to the Y-chromosome of a confirmed paternal relative of the Captain.

Those 17 markers were the same in both samples, giving the two Y-chromosomes a genetic distance of one – meaning, with the genetic information available, the living relative and the unidentified decedent are more than 2000 TIMES more likely to be paternally related than not.

EDIT: DOIP I MISREAD THE CHART 16 of 17 match, not all 17!!

Along with all the information we have from the historical record, the context of the remains, and this new comparative genetic analysis, we can safely conclude that this particular set of remains belong to Captain Fitzjames.

160 years isn't long in the grand scheme. Every identified set of remains is another reminder that these were people, not just a distant curiosity. It's humbling to remember not just that we have identified Cpt. Fitzjames, but that still, today, we have a genetic distance of one.

Photos and Y-chromosome comparison chart taken from Stephen, Fratpietro, and Park's paper "Identification of a senior officer from Sir John Franklin’s Northwest Passage expedition" from the Journal of Archaeological Science: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2352409X24003766?via%3Dihub

hope my nonsense is helpful and/or informative and/or at least made you smile!! if you like this sort of thing :) cheers doves

[fatehbaz]

I'm very interested in tidalectics, I hadn't seen the word before finding your blog but from what I can find it seems very much up my alley. Is there anything you'd recommend reading for an introduction?

I use 'tidalectics' as a sort of shorthand for a constellation or archipelago (pun intended, lol) of related concepts maybe better described as 'archipelagic thinking' and 'poetics of Relation' by Edouard Glissant, 'repeating islands' by Benitez-Rojo/Brathwaite, and 'sea of islands' by Epeli Hau'ofa. I also use it for related things like Black Atlantic, 'Caribbeanist' thinking, 'oceanic thinking,' transnationalism, 'intimacies of four continents,' etc. Much of this deeply, deeply connected to Afro-Caribbean thinking and literature. Unsurprisingly. Comes up often in discussion of eco-poetics and the postcolonial. This discussion is kinda becoming vogue in environmental humanities ('blue humanities' and critical geography) and postcolonial studies, but this has of course been discussed for years and years and years by Caribbean and Pacific scholars, especially Glissant (Martinican/Caribbean), Brathwaite (Barbadian/Caribbean), Cesaire (Caribbean), and Hau'ofa (Tonga/Fiji/Pacific).

The Caribbean(ist) journal Small Axe has also been a big arena for discussing the concept. Two of my fave authors on colonial histories and multispecies ethnographies, Sujit Sivasundaram and Elizabeth DeLoughrey, also focus on oceanic/archipelagic thinking. Highly recommend those two. Another, Lizabeth Paravisini-Gebert, also covers Caribbean eco-poetics and frequently describes archipelagic thinking in accessible ways. You can search their names/publications for articles to read online. (Macarena Gomez-Barris--author of The Extractive Zone: Social Ecologies and Decolonial Perspectives--is currently working on a text about "fluidity of colonial transits and the generative space between land and sea.)

Heavily involves what you could describe as 'emotional ecologies' or 'environmental perception.' About the fluidity of tidal zones, the sea, mangroves, estuaries, deltas, seasonally flooded rivers. Very much about materiality of land/water/bodies, but also very much about imaginative place-making and belonging-in-space. Invokes centrality of ecology to place-making and identity. How these landscapes (tidal, seasonal, fluctuating, flowing) transcend, subvert, defy, exist beyond nation-state borders and bounded properties. Also implies transnational shared concerns of people inhabiting sacrifice zones and imperial peripheries (from Caribbean to Fiji to Philippines).

As intro, maybe:

Routes and Roots: Navigating Caribbean and Pacific Island Literatures (Elizabetth DeLoughrey), especially introduction chapter: "Tidalectics: Navigating Repeating Islands"

"Toward a Critical Ocean Studies for the Anthropocene" (Elizabeth DeLoughrey, English Language Notes 57:1, 2019)

"The Political Ecology of Storms in Caribbean Literature" (Sharae Deckard, The Caribbean: Aesthetics, World-Ecology, Politics, 2016)

At this blog, I've previously tried to summarize it by condensing excerpts here: DeLoughrey's "Submarine Futures"; Paravisini-Gebert's Caribbean eco-poetics of extinction; archipelagic thinking in South Pacific; Harney, Moten, and Sandra Ruiz discussing archipelagic and continental thinking; oceanic fugitivity and "thinking at the land-water boundary" in Hawaii; the "horror of the sea" and "environmental histories of colonialism" compared in Caribbean vs. English/US lit; the "hurricane does not roar in pentameter," poetics of storms, and "special geography of the Caribbean" which provides an overview of Caribbean writers on relation; the "Black Mediterranean" and contemporary archieplagic thinking relating to refugees/migration (a lot more too, but can't go through archives where I'm stuck right now).

-

Also has come to be provocative framework for thinking about non-literal islands. You'll see 'archipelago' also applied to other spatial and ideological formation things like 'carceral archipelagoes' and 'plantation archipelagos' and 'poverty archipelagos.' Basically, that US-European empire treated the Caribbean as a laboratory for how to isolate, contain, extract, commodify, and experiment on people, labor, land, industry, ecologies, etc. during instantiation of 'modernity.' (While Spain and Portgual played around with this in the Caribbean they also did something similar in the early modern spice gardens and ports of Southeast Asia, while Britain/France/US continued similar in both regions too. So archipelagos of both 'East' and 'West' brutalized.) Added weight because British and then later US naval force understood and capitalized on importance of oceanic networks to maintaining global empire (think British Navy; Lisa Lowe's writing on Britain importing Chinese and South Asian laborers to Caribbean during technical abolition of chattel slavery; US building Panama Canal; US naval force in twentieth century linking Philippines, Hawaii, Panama, Puerto Rico). You might've seen me talk about Kuntala Lahiri-Dutt and others writing on the history of British takeover of Bengal 1780s-1850s, and how the seasonality and deltas and rivers frustrated imperial attempts to fix and tax property; Elizabeth Povinelli describes this process of colonial fixation of 'solid' land in Northern Territory in Australia, too.

And these forms persist in extractivist settings and spatiality of labor, incarceration, industrial sites. Think Cancer Alley in Louisiana; archipelagos of Southeast Asian, West African, or Brazilian plantations along corridors of highways and railroads; low-income residential neighborhoods or 'workforce' housing compartmentalized along transportation corridors near logistics nodes; prisons in upstate New York; Commencement Bay's industrial sites and immigrant detention in Seattle-Tacoma, etc. Like hotspots or blinking lights along corridor. Australia, the US, and the EU all still use islands for migrant detention. At the same time, if global empire yokes together East and West, then empire's malcontents can perform the same trick. You can look at correspondences and writing from colonial subjects and radicals in like 1890s who explicitly described how anticolonial actors could and should also invoke transnational networks. (Linking networks in Buenos Aires, Havana, Los Angeles, Barcelona, Paris, Cairo, Istanbul, Tokyo, etc. And today still, too. Archipelagos of cooperation, not just on islands. What happens in a housing commune in Athens is related to movements in Puerto Rico, connected by defiance of same empire, market, capital, etc.

So since at least 1500-ish, 'globalized' world(s) involve circuits, networks, routes, often mediated by the sea. But people living on islands often have relationship with that sea long predating modernity. Glissant and others talk about a submarine/subterranean connecting tissue between islands, so that, even if they are apparently physically isolated or separated by Hispanophone/Francophone linguistic tradition, there is something akin, shared, in common.

But more than that: Relationality and relation to landscape asserts agency, autonomy, belonging. Especially with Glissant, this involves language, poetics, translation, reclamation of 'submarine' histories. Hau'ofa says "we are the ocean."

Maybe reminiscent of Indigenous resurgence, constellations of resistance, fugitivity, opacity/refusal, pedagogies of deep listening, maroons/marronage, resonances, and writers like Harney and Moten, Leanne Betasamosake Simpson, Achille Mbembe, Katherine McKittrick, Sylvia Wynter, Dixa Ramirez D'Oleo, and others.

-

Anyway, four classics:

The Arrivants: A New World Trilogy (Rights of Passage; Islands; Masks) (Kamau Brathwaite, 1973)

The Repeating Island: The Caribbean and the Postmodern Perspective (Antonio Beniteze-Rojo, 1989)

The Archipelago Conversations (Eduoard Glissant and Hans Ulrich Obrist, 2021)

We Are the Ocean: Selected Works (Epeli Hau'ofa, 2008)

-

And some others:

"Submarine Futures of the Anthropocene" (Elizabeth DeLoughrey, Comparative Literature 69:1, 2017)

Waves Across the South: A New History of Revolution and Empire (Sujit Sivasundaram, 2021)

"Archipelagic Interiority: Notes and Reflections on Poetic Voice and Trans Writing in the Philippines" (shane carreon, Kohl 9:1 Special Issue: Anticolonial Feminist Imaginaries, 2023)

"On the Unfolding of Edouard Glissant's Archipelagic Thought" (Michael Wiedorn, Karib-Nordic Journal for Caribbean Studies 6:1, 2021)

"Wet Ontologies, Fluid Spaces: Giving Depth to Volume through Oceanic Thinking" (Philip Steinberg and Kimberley Peters, Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 33:2, 2015)

"New Materialisms, Old Humanisms, or, Following the Submersible" (Stacy Alaimo, NORA-Nordic Journal of Feminist and Gender Research)

"Sensing Grounds: Mangroves, Unauthentic Belonging, Extra-Territoriality" (Natasha Ginwala and Vivian Ziheri, e-flux Journal Issue #45, May 2013)

"Storied Seas and Living Metaphors in the Blue Humanities" (Serpil Oppermann, Configurations 27:4, 2019) and Blue Humanities: Storied Waterscapes in the Anthropocene (Edited by Serpil Oppermann, 2023)

Hydrofeminist Thinking with Oceans: Political and Scholarly Possibilities (Edited by Tamara Shefer, Vivenne Bozalek, and Nike Romano, 2024)

"From the black Atlantic to the bleak Pacific: Re-reading "Benito Cereno"" (Alexandra Ganser, Atlantic Studies 15:2, 2018)

"Literary Ecologies of the Indian Ocean" (Hofmeyer, English Studies in Africa 62:1, 2019)

"Archipelagic Readings: towards a Poetics of Creolization" (Hugues Azerad, Trans-Revue de litterature generale et comparee, Special Issue: Insularities/Archipelagos, 2020)

"Water Enclosure and World-Literature: New Perspectives on Hydro-Power and World-Ecology" (Campbell and Paye, Humanities 9:106, 2020)

"A Poetics of Planetary Water: The Blue Humanities after John Gillis" (Sidney Mentz, Coastal Studies and Society, 2022)

"Tending the Forests Beneath Anthropocene Seas" (Williams and Zalasiewicz, in Oceans Rising: A Companion to Territorial Agency: Oceans in Transformation, 2022)

"Caribbean Archipelagos and Mainlands: Building Resistance against Climate Change" (Lizabeth Paravisini-Gebert, The Black Scholar 51:2, 2021)

Colonial Phantoms: Belonging and Refusal in the Dominican Americas, from the 19th Century to the Present (Dixa Ramirez D'Oleo, 2018)

"Oceanic Routes: (Post-it) Notes on Hydro-Colonialism" (Bystrom and Hofmeyer, Comparative Literature 69:1, 2017)

"Foreword: Ocean Space and the Marine Social Sciences" (McKinley, in The Routledge Handbook of Ocean Space, 2023)

"Atomic histories and elemental futures across Indigenous waters" (Hi'ilei Julia Hobart, Media + Environment 3:1, 2021)

"On Oceanic Fugitivity" (Hi'ilei Julia Hobart, Ways of Water series by Social Science Research Council, 2020)

Undrowned: Black Feminist Lessons from Marine Mammals (Alexis Pauline Gumbs, 2020)

"Materialities in the Making of World Histories: South Asia and the South Pacific" (Sujit Sivasundaram, Oxford Handbook of History and Material Culture: World Perspectives, 2020)

-

Thanks, take care.

[characteroulette]

Happy Layton Big Bang!!! @proflaytonbigbang !!

Here's my contribution: a whole new ukagaka to play around with!! (Grab them here!!)

Layton and Luke come with a few features --

Sit on your desktop and chat to themselves

Serve them a spot of tea! (Be careful not to jostle them)

Read through Luke's journal and get anecdotes from all their adventures!

A simple affection system!

Update functionality! So if they get more dialogue in the future, all you need to do is tell them to update and they'll grab it automatically!

Other ukagaka functionality (checking your email, deleting the files in your recycling bin, recognising certain files you drag and drop onto them)

And three whole shells! One made by the fantastic Danganny_art (Instagram) (X/Twitter) (check her post on it over here!!), the other made by @smooley (Instagram) (Itch.io) (coming soon!!)!! (I made the third but it was mostly for sprite sheet reference haha)

They come with their own unique balloon as well, made by @ageofzero!! It comes with designs from all 6 of the mainline games, so you can choose your favourite!

I have also posted all of their dialogue lines on ao3 in case you can't get ssp to work, though it's only the barebones dialogue from their release version.

Here's how to grab them --

Download SSP (you are looking for the ダウンロード button)

(as a note, SSP currently only runs on Windows. for solutions to a linux setup, check here!)

Make sure to place SSP in its own folder! Don't extract it directly onto your desktop and don't remove any of the files from its folder. Not even the application.

(You might have to add ssp to the exceptions on your virus protection software so it can run.)

Say hello to Emily (the cat girl)! She will always be there to greet you the first time you run ssp.

Download Layton and Luke's .nar! (You can download their balloon separately, but they come bundled with it so that's not necessary)

Drag Layton and Luke's .nar file onto Emily once she's finished speaking so she will install it.

(Alternatively, if you are having trouble with this, a .nar file is just another .zip, so you can grab the files from it and place it into a folder yourself! Make the new folder in the Ghosts folder of ssp's files (you will see Emily's folder in there!) (make sure to name it the same name as the .nar itself) and place all of Layton and Luke's files inside it!)

Then you can switch or call up Layton and Luke by right clicking on Emily and selecting them from the Switch Ghosts or Call Ghosts options! Simple as that!

Thanks so much for everyone involved!! Happy Layton big bang!!