#fit challenge 2019

[im-probably-crying-rn-ngl]

some people say george isn't as good as the other "future wdcs" of his generation or he isn't even all that good in general. but don't you ever fucking forget the never ending terrible circumstances that plague his f1 career that he gets up and tries to beat every single damn race weekend. sadly i am also guilty of losing faith in him so as a reminder just some of george's achievements:

even before setting foot in f1, he won gp3 and f2 in his rookie seasons. he STILL holds the record for most points in a single season in one of the most competitive f2 grids ever.

williams in 2019 weren't capable of even getting a single point without 2 dsqs but george STILL out-qualified his teammate in all 20 races as a rookie.

in 2020 george sat down in a car he had never driven, put on shoes that didn't even fit him and STILL almost won the race. he continued his domination over his teammate this year.

george had one of the most impressive qualis in one of the slowest cars and brought williams to a front row start in a time where they were regularly knocked it q1. he earned his mr saturday title, multiple times. if mercedes weren't going to give him the seat, someone else would have.

in 2022 he was finally called up to go up against the most successful f1 driver in history in his team and he did his absolute best. to make it easy to visualise, george beat lewis this year by larger margin then nico rosberg did in 2016.

even in his scrappiest season in 2023, he matched the greatest qualifier in qualifying and in pace. he's one of lewis' closest ever teammates in both. this is lewis hamilton, the greatest of all time. there is literally no one else who could be a greater challenge for someone pulled up from the back marker of the grid.

multiple wdcs, drivers, commentators and tps have spoken about his talent. he continues to push to the limit in every car even if it fucks him over and even if it doesn't end up mattering. does he make mistakes? yes. but they don't at all take away from his skill.

mercedes already has their golden boy but if toto can't see that, then he can shine elsewhere. he has done what others have and more. he has the mentality because he knows what it means to pick yourself up even if you keep getting knocked down. he's a future champion and that's on that, all he needs is a car.

[cinamun]

Day 9 | Dark Academia

Major shout out to one of my and my OCs favorite designers, @happylifesims because I have had this fit since 2019 and I knew I'd have a dope use for it.

#BHMCAS Challenge

[susandsnell]

Re anachronistic feminist characters, you are absolutely right and you should say it.

Maybe people who want to read "write women who sew" type stuff should just go do that instead of trying to make every single female character fit into their worldview. Because I don't want every character to be Eloise, I'm fine with variety, but a lot of people seem like they can't stand even one woman challenging gender norms.

No amount of faux progressive language will change the fact they sound like highschool bullies picking on girls who are too GNC or too "weird."

Thank you so much! Ideally, you'd have feminist characters more representative of the feminist or proto-feminist views of their era where the work is going for historical accuracy to honour the different points of where we were in history and also acknowledge the flaws of the movement at different points in time (1994's Little Women versus the hilariously bad 2019 version comes to mind), and certainly there's an element of repetitiveness in this character type, but this is seldom if ever the criticism I see. The truth of the matter is that in fact many early feminists did denigrate work designated as feminine, but we can acknowledge this as misdirected anger at having one option deemed valid.

Instead, we've somehow arrived at "wanting to be treated with human dignity is internalized misogyny because it really cramps my ability to romanticize the past". As you say, nothing wrong with valuing the labour more frequently done by women, but the fact of the matter is you can do that and show that there were always many people who resisted or did not fit into the tight boxes that society forced them into. Instead of, you know, ridiculing them for wanting to break the boxes while enjoying the fruits of having to fit into fewer boxes than our predecessors precisely because of women who loudmouthed and fought back and didn't fit into certain people's fantasy of being a submissive little princess. The kind of girls you made fun of and ostracized in high school, one might say.

To address a particular point you raise that I think is the most important in this entire ongoing discussion:

No amount of faux progressive language will change the fact they sound like highschool bullies picking on girls who are too GNC or too "weird."

I keep saying it, but a certain type of liberal feminist are now using "NLOG" the way it was socially acceptable 10-15 years ago to call someone a lesbian/homophobic or transphobic slurs because they didn't wear makeup or want a boyfriend. It is absolutely high school bullying mentality and has gone from an imperfect attempt at addressing internalized misogyny to active misogyny and latent/often overt homophobia and transphobia.

This is what the numbskulls making video essay after video essay about the apparent 'NLOG crisis' fail to grasp. The Heathers and the Plastics are not 'demonized for being feminine', they are accurate representations of how under patriarchy, social capital is gained through strict, obsessive adherence to white, Western beauty standards (which corporations can profit off of endlessly by manufacturing infinite insecurities, so bonus to the rich girls) and excelling at heterosexuality and pleasing others, and this system self-reinforces by the 'winners' bullying those who do not conform as easily. Jo March, queercoded dynamo that she was, took nothing away from the sisters who were happier with more traditional lifestyles because she wanted better for herself and the girls of the future, and represents so many women who fought for just that. You're not actually an intellectual for thinking Daphne Bridgerton has more value than Eloise because she was designated the season's Diamond, a literal in-universe (and true to life) Prize For Being Correctly Female, and unquestioningly accepts being paraded around like an ornament and smiling at being auctioned off to the highest bidder while Eloise fought back, criticized, and wanted an education more than any boy until they forced heterosexuality upon her. You are in fact a vanguard of the very patriarchal system the franchise even presents as backwards, because you don't want anyone raining on your arranged marriage fantasies.

There is nothing, and I mean nothing feminist, about snarking girls who do not like or for whatever reason, cannot or will not perform conventional femininity.

There is a certain sour-grapes defensiveness that comes from beig ostracized and punished for Failing At Your Gender if you weren't good at what was expected of you/resisted it. Femininity is derided, but it is also imposed (the two work in tandem to oppress women); and if you fail at its imposition, it's natural to try and gain protection by participating in the derision. Hell, I theorize that people who proclaimed themselves "not like other girls" in the contemporary age often did so out of resistance at the fact that we're supposed to perform (cisheteronormative) sexiness from the time we hit our teens, and of course the panopticon self-reinforcement that is how Other Girls treat you if you, an adolescent girl, shirk performance of femininity in any way. Certainly, I've also read much about GNC girls (of various identities) and neurodivergent girls equally having turned to this, which makes sense, as they're frequently targets for such bullying.

I do also think - and have personally experienced - it was an often imperfect articulation of queerness in many cases. The societal ideal of women under a patriarchy is cisheteronormativity; our value is derived from our appeal to men, and from the time we start maturing, sexual availability and appeal to men is the highest virtue. Therefore, women whose sexuality is not limited to men - or heaven forbid, doesn't include them at all - 'fail' gender, and accordingly often feel a sense of alienation and ostracism from other girls when they don't get as excited about dating boys. Also, in many cases (anecdotal I admit from people I know, but still significant), people who had a phase of asserting they "weren't like other girls" were in the process of discovering that they weren't girls at all!

And in some cases - again, I've mentioned that I was an Eloise for all the handwringing about how girls of that era wouldn't say that or do that and it would never occur to want more than what they had (...okay, so why are things different now?) - it's a frustration from the outspoken feminists and reformers at not being able to get other girls on board with us, because deviation from expectation will make you the weirdo who gets punished and rejected because ugh, annoying! As one historical costuming youtuber I won't name so charmingly puts it in her godawful video essay, "the women who made a big show of fighting back were freaks." (Way to convince us you care about feminism...)

All this to say the anti-NLOG brigade have utterly worn out my patience, and at best seem ignorant of the battles that have won us the freedoms we have today because it's not fun to consider how your escapist fantasy might be problematic (understandable, you don't always have to reflect on this to be aware), and at worst? They're getting the chance to be the mean girl in high school again/that they never got to be, they're just dressing it up in the bastardized language of feminism.

[feedists4walz]

Food is one of the most universally beloved things on planet Earth. Aligning a presidential campaign with it is smart for all the obvious reasons, but for the Harris-Walz ticket, it’s also a signal. The rhetorical challenge of progressivism is that it is by nature abstract: It imagines a world that does not yet exist, rather than advocating to return to some previous version of the one we know. [...] In foregrounding food, Harris and Walz are making theirs the candidacy of terrestrial pleasure and straightforward abundance.

The governor of Minnesota and possible future vice president’s hotdish recipe is, uh, a lot. It involves, among other things, whole milk, half-and-half, two types of meat, three cups of cheese (specifically Kraft), nearly a stick of butter, and a full package of Tater Tots. It is gluttonous, deeply midwestern, and, I am sure, delicious. Indeed, Walz won the Minnesota Congressional Delegation’s hotdish cook-off in 2013, 2014, and 2016.

Tim Walz loves food. He loves corn dogs, and the all-you-can-drink milk booth at the Minnesota state fair, and—I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this—dunking cinnamon rolls in chili. He gets excited about soda. He posts pictures of his sandwiches.  He loves to eat so much that people on X are already writing short-form fan fiction about it. Throughout his political career, but especially recently, he has gone out of his way to talk about food, the fattier and folksier the better. Last week, in a discussion with CNN’s Jake Tapper that was ostensibly about Joe Biden’s mental fitness, Walz recounted receiving a call from the president while eating the Minnesota delicacy Juicy Lucy, a hamburger stuffed with cheese. The next day, he posted on X about a different award-winning hotdish recipe of his, this one involving two separate kinds of canned soup.

We are witnessing what might be the most food-centric presidential campaign in American history. Kamala Harris is, by all accounts, an exceptional and enthusiastic home cook, and has made cooking part of her political brand—surely an intentional calculation, given the negative connotations that might arise when the potential first woman president openly embraces domesticity. In 2019, she offered an off-the-cuff lesson in turkey brining while getting mic’d up to go on television: “Just lather that baby up,” she said, eyes bright. The next year, she started an amateur cooking show; on it, she cracks an egg with one hand and bonds with Mindy Kaling over the fact that their parents both stored spices in old Taster’s Choice jars. She laughs a lot in the kitchen.

Unlike her running mate, Harris seems unlikely to throw four kinds of dairy in the oven for dinner—she’s a Californian, and she cooks like one: swordfish with toasted cardamom for her pescatarian stepdaughter, herb-flecked Mediterranean meatballs on an Instagram Live with the celebrity chef Tom Colicchio. But she’s not immune to the humble charms of ice cream, gumbo, Popeye’s chicken, red-velvet cupcakes, or bacon, which she describes as a “spice” in her household. She comes off as sincere in her love of food but discerning in her tastes. When a 10-year-old recently asked her at an event what her favorite taco filling was, she answered with the kind of absorbed expression that she might otherwise display when explaining foreign policy on the debate stage: carnitas with cilantro and lime, no raw onions.

Invoking food on the campaign trail is a cliché for a reason: Eating is an easy and extremely literal way to prove that you are a human being. But the Democratic Party has not always been great at it. In 2003, John Kerry visited the Philadelphia cheesesteak institution Pat’s and asked for a sandwich not with the traditional Whiz, American, or Provolone, but with Swiss. If voters needed proof that he was something other than the eggheady elitist they thought he was, this wasn’t it: In Philly, Swiss is “an alternative lifestyle,” The Philadelphia Inquirer’s food critic, Craig LaBan, said at the time. One does not get the sense that Walz or Harris would stride into Pat’s and ask for Swiss—not because they’re self-consciously avoiding a gaffe, but because they have deep respect for America’s foodways and are interested in enjoying food however it is meant to be enjoyed.

Their approach makes a marked departure both from the Obama era—what with its well-meaning but not entirely fun focus on childhood obesity, and its notorious seven almonds—and from the current leaders of the Republican Party. Donald Trump doesn’t really talk about liking eating; he does, famously, consume a lot of fast food, but that is reportedly because he’s afraid of being poisoned, not because fast food tastes amazing. His most well-known food tweet—“Happy #CincoDeMayo! The best taco bowls are made in Trump Tower Grill. I love Hispanics!”—reads like an obligatory plug rather than an earnest celebration of the way the taco bowl itself looks, smells, and tastes: all business, no pleasure. Meanwhile, Trump’s running mate, J. D. Vance, says he loves Diet Mountain Dew, but he seems mostly to be mad about it. To the degree that he has gotten specific about why he likes the beverage, the praise is purely functional: “high caffeine, low calorie.” The primary message here is that food is the site not of delight and togetherness but of anxiety and alienation, or utilitarianism at best. It’s all a little, well, weird.

Food is one of the most universally beloved things on planet Earth. Aligning a presidential campaign with it is smart for all the obvious reasons, but for the Harris-Walz ticket, it’s also a signal. The rhetorical challenge of progressivism is that it is by nature abstract: It imagines a world that does not yet exist, rather than advocating to return to some previous version of the one we know. I find it telling that Walz keeps using the word joy when he talks about the campaign and about his running mate. It’s an uncomplicated message, one that’s even more concrete than Barack Obama’s hope: Hope is the future, but joy is the present. It’s cold milk on a hot day; a perfectly cracked egg; a steaming casserole dish full of God knows what, enjoyed at a crowded table. In foregrounding food, Harris and Walz are making theirs the candidacy of terrestrial pleasure and straightforward abundance. It’s simple, really. —Ellen Cushing

[thosegothsims]

RE: Not So Berry Legacy Challenge

howdy! so a long, long time ago in like 2019, i decided that i wanted to rewrite the not so berry challenge originally by @lilsimsie and @alwaysimming to fit in some more of the occults and other packs we’ve gotten over the years since their challenge was originally created. this was also partially inspired after seeing @sweetlysimss had created an updated version of the original NSB challenge as well around the same time, so credit where credit is due! check out both the original challenge and sweetlysimss’ updated version — without them i wouldn’t have been able to be confident in recreating the challenge to suit my own tastes and interests! ♡

the challenge still follows a similar structure to the original challenge, but i’ve adjusted many of the generations to fit storylines that i find more fun, adjusted the rules to things that i personally would like to explore, and make use of packs that i don’t find myself playing with to their full potential too often. i especially added a lot of occult gameplay, because i tend to just make occult sims and then don’t do much to play with their specific gameplay or with the aspirations that come with the pack they’re in.

if you’d like to see a full rundown of the entire legacy, click here to see the google doc i’ve made with all of the generations’ rules laid out for you. below the cut is the first generation’s rules so you can get an idea of what the full challenge will be like!

GENERATION ONE: MINT GREEN

You are an alien who doesn’t quite understand all of what earth has to offer. You and your minty self decide to take the best course of action and learn about the world around you—through science! With the power of two worlds (literally) in your hands, you go a little...crazy with the power at your fingertips, and strive to become the world’s first alien mad scientist.

> The Sim

Traits: Genius, Ambitious, Materialistic

Aspiration: Chief of Mischief

Career: Scientist

Species: Alien

> Rules

Skills, Career, and Aspiration

Master scientist career

Complete Chief of Mischief aspiration

Master mischief and logic skills

Personal Life

Marry human spouse

Have at least one enemy (optional: who has a voodoo doll attached for...purposes)

Use the Electroflux Wormhole Generator to visit your home planet of Sixam

Number of children this generation doesn’t matter, but heir must be human

Optional

Complete the elements collection — you have to know all about the elements on this planet!

Live in StrangerVille & solve the StrangerVille mystery with your spouse. Why does the flora around here seem so familiar?

[ateez-himari]

FORMER LEADER MEETS MAKNAE

At the request of former B.A.P leader, Bang Yongguk, a conversation sparks with one of the industry's most artistic idols.

May 21, 2024 (1:28PM)

Third generation rapper Bang Yongguk uploaded an unexpected video to his YouTube channel, around a month following his new album, in which he documented a meeting with ATEEZ's youngest member and songwriter, Himari. In contrast to what many believed when seeing the title it was in fact not their first time interacting with one another as they had filmed a dance challenge in the summer of last year. On that day however it was arranged by the senior artist due to his curiosity regarding the vocalist's impressive credits as well as her unique artistic expression, claiming that he viewed her as one of the industry's rare aces.

Despite B.A.P's unfortunate disbandment in 2019 following a lawsuit against their company, it was expressed multiple times throughout the years that she held a great respect for him and found great inspiration in the way that he pursued his own creativity. It was through one of those passionate ramblings that the rapper caught wind of the maknae's name, the young woman immediately catching his attention with her often emotional additions in b-sides.

'There was something about the way you wrote certain feelings, the strict work ethic that you showed in videos and the realness in your personality that made me curious. You're also producing quite a lot for someone this young so I wanted to meet you, to see who was the girl everyone started talking about, good or bad comments alike.'

In the beginning of their conversation he mentioned that listening to the single 'Pray', made in collaboration with Agust D, was especially painful due to the vulnerability being expressed through such raw lyrics that seemed poured directly from their hearts. However it was her solo track 'Shadow' in the group's most recent album that made the heaviest impression not only for the heartbreaking side of the story but also the interesting production techniques she had used, each being carefully crafted to fit a specific narration.

Throughout the two hour long video netizens were able to witness a connection slowly form between these two artists, with the eldest having prepared some activities such as a short painting session as well as cooking dinner to break the ice. Despite the maknae's initial nervousness towards being alone with one of her favorite rappers , conversation seemed to flow rather easily due to her senior's attentive listening and their time together ended with a warm hug along with a promise to meet again in the near future.

The conversation topics ranged from lighthearted ones such as small anecdotes from their respective lives or the senior's endless curiosity regarding his junior's creative mind to much darker themes such as mental health, but in the end both seemed so at ease with one another's presence that there was never a dull moment.

'You seem like you make friends very easily' Yongguk had remarked. 'Your personality is very warm, even though when you first arrive at my home you seemed very nervous...I think I saw your hands shaking a little bit.'

The last few minutes revealed that he had requested she leave the painting done during their short activity, proceeding to frame it in his living room, claiming that it added life into the house and would ensure he is always reminded of this encounter. The vocalist on the other hand excitedly showed off a polaroid already placed in her phone case to the camera, the image simply being the two posing cutely yet meaning much more to her as the rapper had been an idol of hers for a very long time.

Other artists from older generations have expressed a desire to meet the rapidly rising songwriter, with legendary rapper G-Dragon sharing songs produced by her through Instagram stories with encouraging phrases in which he often conveyed support.

'The songs she created for Taemin had something that seperated them from other albums coming out at the time, so I really want to work with her one day.' Taeyang (BIGBANG)

'We've talked briefly a few times and it always seemed like she had so many things to share, so I'd like to hear them. She's also one of the few people who truly excels in every aspect of the industry.' Moonbyul (MAMAMOO)

'Your sister [to Yoongi] takes after you for a lot of things it seems, both with the outspoken lyrics and never ending creativity. How old was she when she started working with Taemin...18? She's still young but already so influential. You should bring her with you next time so we can meet.' IU

'She's worked with us...twice I think, on 'Reason' and 'NO LIMIT'. I didn't see her a lot because of schedules but when I listened to the drafts she made I was really impressed by what she created alone. She's improved a lot since then so I'd like to meet up for an album again.' Joohoney (MONSTA X)

While the maknae is sparking quite the conversations amongst the industry's most notable names, ATEEZ as a whole have been rapidly climbing their way to the top lately, with media outlets granting them the title of 'Powerhouse of K-Pop'. Netizens are already bracing themselves for the upcoming comeback on May 31st, which promises to shake the charts once more as they challenge themselves to work even harder.

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[johannestevans]

Gothic Recommendations

So, I gave a talk on Crimson Peak this morning for Romancing The Gothic - and people asked if I had any recommendations for films that fit the same vibe as Crimson Peak!

Some of these are gothic period pieces, some just fit the gothic vibe, and others just fit well with Crimson Peak mood wise or theme wise.

Jane Eyre (2011) - Jane Eyre is no particular favourite of mine, but Mia Wasikowska in this role really rocks it, especially in contrast to her role as Edith in Crimson Peak.

The Woman In Black (2012) - I love this film, I've seen it almost as many times as I've rewatched Crimson Peak, and I think as a piece of gothic horror and as a period piece, it's just glorious.

Only Lovers Left Alive (2013) - This piece is full to the brim with yearning and lust and is so fucking good as a gothic vampire flick.

Perfume: Story of a Murderer (2006) - This is another favourite of mine, Ben Whishaw is glorious in this role and there's some creepy Alan Rickman at play as well.

Quills (2000) - This one is a good gothic romance, I would say, very dark and macabre - there actually is an arguable supernatural element, but at the core of the sadomasochism here there's a deep level of macabre.

Fanny Lye Deliver'd (2019) - This one isn't gothic at all, but delving into Puritan ideals contrasts it well with gothic vibes of religious conservatism and emotional repression whilst at the same time still maintaining similar challenges and explorations of gender roles, sexuality, and the roles of women within and around the patriarchy.

[artdcnaldson]

Wait what’s the dynamic in the polycule au? Like what’s a brief explanation cause I’m mixing au’s up😭😭

Polycule dynamic/summary:

You’ve been Tashi and Art’s third for a few years now! You started as Lily’s nanny, but quickly found a place in their relationship that was wayyy more than professional, so over time you became their girlfriend <3

Everything was great! You and Tashi and Art had a great natural chemistry. Things just worked so easily. You fit in the gaps that had formed over time between them. You were an emotional and physical outlet for Art, you kept up with Tashi’s drive and were there to help her decompress however she needed.

Then the new Rochelle challenger in 2019 happens. You’re there to keep an eye on Lily during the matches and while Art and Tashi are focusing on tennis. So you never run into Patrick, you don’t know much about him other than he used to be Art’s doubles partner.

Then all of a sudden Patrick has moved into the house, right in the room by yours. He’s taking over your space, taking Art and Tashi’s attention from you. They have a history, all of them, and you feel like you’re an outsider in the nice little family you’ve made

So you get bitter with Patrick, distance yourself a bit, maybe get bitchy and bratty with him

Tashi gets that handled really quick— has Patrick use you and make you cum, even though you insist you don’t want him (you do!)

But then Art gets jealous of you and Patrick, gets all possessive and weird bc you’re daddy’s girl and now you’re all flirty and touchy with Patrick :(

So where we are now: Tashi has given you three the house for a week so you can work out your shit. You feel horrible bc you feel like it’s you who’s spoiling everything. But really, it’s Art and Patrick needing to work out their issues with Each Other. Outside of you and Tashi.

Bc if they can’t work it out, it’s never gonna work

[camzeecorner]

Whispers in the shadows

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ :･ﾟ𓍯𓂃 𖦹 ₊˚⊹ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ :･ﾟ𓍯𓂃 𖦹 ₊˚⊹ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ :･ﾟ𓍯⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ :･ﾟ

In this house, I am both the ghost and the memory, bound

-to protect what was lost.-

Warnings : mentions of death, angst, talk of murder (being poisoned), masturbating, cum eating, eavesdropping, cock praise, invasion of privacy, etc.

Summary : Tatum, killed in her home, has lingered in its shadows for years. Throughout the night, she awakens to the unsettling presence of a new family. Unhappy with their arrival, she unleashes her haunting fury upon them. That was, until she felt a connection with him.

April 24, 2003 Tatum’s story began in a quaint little town, where the sun painted the sky with hues of gold every morning. She was born into a family that seemed perfect on the surface. Her parents, loving yet strict, instilled in her the values of hard work and respect. As a child, Tatum was a dreamer, often found with her nose buried in books about far-off places and fantastical adventures. She had a wild imagination, creating elaborate worlds where she was the heroine, conquering dragons and saving kingdoms.

September 16, 2007 Growing up, Tatum was close with her younger sister, Bella. They shared everything—secrets whispered under the covers, laughter echoing through the halls, and dreams of what the future might hold. The bond between them was unbreakable, a sanctuary in a world that sometimes felt overwhelming. Their home was filled with warmth and love, but it also had its shadows. Tatum's parents had high expectations, and the pressure to excel weighed heavily on her shoulders.

February 3, 2013 As Tatum entered her teenage years, the innocence of childhood began to fade. She became acutely aware of the expectations surrounding her. School became a battleground where grades defined worth, and friendships were tested by the whims of popularity. Tatum struggled to fit in, often feeling like an outsider looking in. She found solace in her art, pouring her emotions into sketches and paintings that spoke of her inner turmoil.

March 18, 2016 Despite the challenges, Tatum had a few close friends who understood her. They would spend hours in her room, sharing secrets and dreams, creating a safe space where they could be themselves. But as high school progressed, the dynamics began to shift. Friendships grew strained, and jealousy crept in, leading to heartbreak and betrayal. Tatum felt increasingly isolated, her once-vibrant spirit dimming under the weight of loneliness.

It was during this tumultuous time that she met him—a boy who seemed to understand her in ways no one else could. Their connection was intense and passionate, but it soon turned dark. Tatum found herself ensnared in a relationship marked by manipulation and jealousy. One fateful evening, after a seemingly normal dinner together, Tatum began to feel unwell. At first, she dismissed it as a minor illness, but as the hours passed, her condition rapidly deteriorated.

In her final moments, she realized the truth: her lover had slipped a lethal substance into her drink, driven by jealousy and rage. The investigation that followed uncovered the chilling details of their tumultuous relationship, revealing a pattern of control that had been hidden behind a facade of love. Tatum's tragic end served as a haunting reminder of the dangers that can lurk behind closed doors, leaving her family and friends to grapple with the loss of a vibrant soul taken too soon.

November 29, 2019 Tatum’s story continued even after her tragic demise, as whispers of her spirit began to circulate in the town. Her afterlife was shrouded in mystery, with many claiming to have seen her ethereal figure wandering through the halls of her former home. The house, once a place of laughter and love, transformed into a chilling reminder of her untimely end. Shadows danced in the corners, and a cold breeze swept through the rooms, leaving an unsettling feeling for anyone who dared to enter.

March 8, 2021 As time went on, it became clear that Tatum’s spirit was restless. The pain and betrayal she endured in life fueled her desire for vengeance. Those who moved into her home reported strange occurrences—objects moving on their own, disembodied whispers echoing through the night, and an overwhelming sense of dread that seemed to seep into their very bones. Tatum, in her spectral form, sought to reclaim the power that had been stripped from her, targeting anyone who dared to live in the house where she had suffered.

June 4, 2024 Her presence became a legend in the town, a cautionary tale for those who might overlook the history of the place they called home. Tatum’s spirit was said to linger, watching, waiting, and ensuring that no one could forget the life she lost and the love that turned into a nightmare. In her afterlife, she became both a guardian and a haunting specter, forever entwined with the memories of her tragic past, seeking justice for the betrayal that had cost her everything.

August 1, 3:13 AM

The clock struck 3:13 AM, its chime echoing through the stillness of the house, a haunting reminder of the time when the boundaries between the living and the dead blurred. Tatum, a ghost caught in the liminal space of her former life, drifted through the shadowed corridors of her once-vibrant home. She could feel the chill of the night wrap around her like a shroud, the air thick with an unsettling silence that seemed to hold its breath, waiting for something—anything—to break the calm.

Moonlight spilled through the dusty windows, casting a silvery glow that illuminated the remnants of her past. Tatum floated through the living room, her translucent form shimmering like a wisp of smoke. The furniture, draped in white sheets, looked like forgotten memories, each piece a testament to the life that once filled the space with laughter and warmth. She paused to gaze at a faded photograph resting on the mantle, its edges curled with age. It captured a moment frozen in time: a family picnic, her and Chloe grinning wide, the sun shining bright, oblivious to the shadows that would soon engulf their lives.

As she moved, Tatum felt the weight of her memories pressing down upon her, a mix of joy and sorrow that twisted in her chest. The walls, once alive with the sounds of her family, now stood silent, their painted surfaces peeling away like the layers of her own forgotten identity. She could see flashes of her life—her and her sister playing in the yard, the smell of freshly baked cookies wafting through the air, the warmth of her parents embrace. But those moments felt like a distant dream, replaced by the chilling reality of her existence as a spirit.

Hovering near the staircase, Tatum reached out with her ethereal fingers, brushing against the banister. It felt cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the warmth of the life she once knew. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to be swept away in the tide of nostalgia, each memory flooding back with vivid clarity. She could hear the laughter echoing in her mind, the sound of tiny feet running across the hardwood floors, the joy that filled the air like the sweet scent of blooming flowers in spring.

But as quickly as the warmth enveloped her, it was replaced by a biting chill that seeped into her very essence. Tatum opened her eyes, and the reality of her situation crashed over her like a wave. She was trapped in this house, a mere observer of the life she once cherished. The playful banter of her laughter was now a ghostly whisper, fading in and out of her consciousness. She felt the ache of longing for the simple moments—the bedtime stories, the shared meals, the laughter that filled the room as they played games on rainy afternoons.

With a heavy heart, Tatum descended the staircase, each step a reminder of her existence in this in-between world. The air grew colder as she approached the door leading to the backyard, where she and her friends had spent countless hours playing and giggling ready explore the world around them. She could almost feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, the way it had kissed her cheeks during those long summer days. But now, the door stood ajar, revealing a darkened expanse that seemed to stretch into infinity.

Outside, the garden lay overgrown, the once-vibrant flowers now wilted and tangled in a wild embrace. Tatum floated into the yard, her heart heavy with the realization that time had continued to move forward, even as she remained stuck in this spectral limbo. The swing set, once a source of joy and laughter, creaked in the wind, its chains rusted and forgotten. She could see the remnants of her playful antics, the way she had soared through the air, her laughter ringing like music, a beautiful symphony that now felt like a cruel reminder of what she had lost.

As she wandered through the yard, Tatum caught sight of the old oak tree, its branches stretching wide like welcoming arms. It had been a sanctuary for her and Chloe , a place where they had built forts, climbed high, and shared secrets. She could almost hear their voices, the excitement in their laughter as they played beneath its protective canopy. But the tree, too, had aged, its bark rough and gnarled, a reflection of the passage of time that had left her behind.

Tatum closed her eyes, allowing the memories to wash over her, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love that had once filled this space. She felt a tear slip down her cheek, a ghostly shimmer that faded into the night. In that moment, she realized that while she may be trapped in this ethereal existence, her love for her friends and family remained, an unbreakable bond that transcended the veil between life and death.

As the moon cast its silvery glow upon her, Tatum made a silent vow to watch over her loved ones.

PRESENT DAY, 2:46 AM

Hovering in the dim light, Tatum felt the passage of time stretch endlessly before her. Days turned into weeks, each one marked by a deepening loneliness that gnawed at her essence. The world outside continued, oblivious to her plight, as the seasons changed and the leaves turned from vibrant green to muted browns and grays. Each dawn brought with it a fresh wave of despair, a reminder of the life she could no longer touch.

With each passing day, the hatred she harbored for her untimely fate festered like an open wound. The emptiness of her home echoed her feelings, amplifying her isolation. She could hear the whispers of the wind outside, carrying the laughter of children playing in the distance, a stark contrast to the silence that enveloped her. The walls, once filled with love, now seemed to close in around her, suffocating her spirit with the weight of unfulfilled dreams and lost moments.

As the nights grew longer, Tatum's energy waned, and she found herself drawn to the window, staring out at the world she could no longer be part of. Shadows danced across the lawn, and she could almost see herself running, the laughter ringing in her ears like a bittersweet melody. But the joy of those memories was tainted by the bitterness of her reality. She was trapped in a realm of darkness, her heart heavy with the knowledge that she could never again be the girl she once was.

Tatum's thoughts were abruptly shattered by the sound of laughter echoing from outside, a raucous symphony of joy that felt like a personal affront to her years of solitude. Anger surged within her, a fiery response to the intrusion of her carefully constructed isolation. How dare they? How dare a new family come and claim the space that had once been hers, a sanctuary filled with memories? The very air around her thickened with resentment as she pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window, her fists clenching at her sides until her knuckles turned white.

The voices floated through the air, carefree and jubilant, slicing through her memories like a hot knife through butter. Each giggle and shout was a reminder of the family she had lost, now ghosts in her mind, their laughter replaced by the exuberance of strangers who had no right to occupy her sacred ground. Tatum could almost see them racing across the lawn, their faces lit up with delight. The sight ignited a bitterness that coursed through her veins, a reminder of what she had lost.

Her heart raced, pounding in her chest like a war drum, urging her to act. She felt a primal urge to scream, to lash out, to demand that they leave her home, the home that had once been filled with her own happiness. The walls that had sheltered her from the world now felt like a prison, and the anger twisted in her gut, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to consume her whole. She could feel her breath quickening as the laughter continued, each peal ringing in her ears like a taunt, a challenge to her very existence.

It had been about a week since the boys had made themselves at home in my space, and during that time, I had learned their names and a few tidbits about them by eavesdropping on their animated conversations. Matt, Nick, and Chris were triplets from Boston, their laughter and banter echoing through the hallways, while Nate, their friend, also hailing from Boston, seamlessly blended into their dynamic. They had sprawled across my living room, claiming every corner as their own, and I was completely outraged by this invasion.

I found myself lurking in the shadows of the dimly lit halls, watching every step they took and listening intently to every word that spilled from their lips. My heart raced with frustration; how dare they intrude upon my sanctuary, the one place where I could feel a semblance of freedom? Well, something like that. I was determined to take action, to reclaim my space and restore order to my home. Anything to regain control over the chaos that had taken root around me.

Day by day, I began shifting their belongings around, making subtle changes that I hoped they might notice. But, to my frustration, they never did. So, I decided to escalate my tactics. It was around midnight when the house was enveloped in silence, all four boys nestled in their rooms, deep in slumber. I crept toward the first bedroom— Matt.

Matt was quiet, his voice barely above a whisper, a stark contrast to the boisterous energy of the others. I appreciated that about him; his calm demeanor was a refreshing change. I could lie to myself and insist he wasn’t attractive, but deep down, I knew the truth. He had medium-length hair that framed his face perfectly, complemented by a stubble beard that added a rugged charm. Standing tall with a slender figure, he exuded an effortless elegance. Unlike his brothers, who were loud and brash, Matt was much more closed off, a completely different kind of boy altogether.

He reminded me of myself in so many ways, and I found comfort in that connection. There was an undeniable quality about him that drew me in, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. I often found myself lurking in his bedroom at night, captivated by his presence. Watching him in the soft glow of the moonlight, I couldn’t explain why I felt compelled to do so, but it was a pull I couldn’t resist.

As I strolled closer to his bedroom, faint noises reached my ears, causing my heart to race. He was awake? He was never awake this late. I approached cautiously, each step deliberate and quiet. Pressing my ear against the door, I strained to listen. Was that... whimpering? Panic surged through me—was he hurt? My curiosity and concern propelled me forward as I gently pushed the door open, peeking my head in first and turning toward the side of the room where his bed was. The dim light barely illuminated the space, but I could make out the outline of his body. He lay there, but he was moving restlessly, tossing and turning as if trapped in a restless dream.

He was moving a lot, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was having a bad dream. I crept closer, eager to study his sleeping figure, the way the shadows danced across his face in the dim light. At least I thought he was sleeping, but something about his restless movements made me question whether he was truly at peace or caught in a turmoil of nightmares.

His head was thrown back, eyebrows deeply furrowed. His eyes were shut tight, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. Was he... awake? I couldn’t believe it; the realization hit me like a bolt—he wasn’t asleep at all.

I stepped closer to him, positioning myself right beside his bed, and let my gaze trail down his body. The blanket was bunched up around his lower stomach, revealing a glimpse of his form beneath. I noticed his hand moving beneath the fabric, shifting in a slow yet frantic rhythm, as if caught in a struggle. His mouth opened slightly, releasing soft, involuntary sounds that hinted at the turmoil within him.

He was whimpering softly, arching his back slightly off the bed, a vulnerable display that held me captive in a trance. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, though I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. Slowly, I began to crawl on top of him, feeling as if my mind was racing ahead of my body. It was as if I could feel myself slipping out of my translucent skin, a sensation that made me acutely aware of my own existence. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. He could see me; I could see him. His breath quickened, and he stammered, “W...who... h-how...” I shushed him gently, placing my hand over his mouth, trying to calm the storm brewing between us.

As we sat there in the stillness, his racing heart began to settle, the rhythm gradually calming. I felt limp against his waist, my gaze locked into his eyes, searching for some understanding. He shook his head slowly, disbelief etched across his features. “Who are you...” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. I glanced down at my hands, feeling the weight of the moment. “Tatum,” I replied, my voice low but hurried. His eyes darted across my face, searching for more answers, urging me to elaborate. “...I live here...” I continued, locking my gaze back onto his.

He began to pant, shaking his head in denial. “N-no you don’t... I live here! With my brothers and Nate. This is our home... h-how long... how long have you been here?” His words spilled out in a rush, breathless and frantic. I offered him a sweet smile, trying to soothe the tension. “My whole life... Matt.”

He threw me to the side and crawled away, his hands covering his face in disbelief. “How the fuck do you know my name?” he shouted, his voice rising in intensity. Never did I think I would be uttering the next sentence. “I died here... I grew up here my whole life. I know it sounds crazy...” I began to crawl toward him, resting my hand gently on his arm. He tilted his head down, glancing at our contact before meeting my gaze again. “I’ve been here, trapped here, dead and alone for years,” I confessed.

He chuckled nervously, groaning as he rubbed his hands down his face in frustration. “This is unbelievable,” he whispered to himself, grappling with the weight of my words. I grabbed his phone, quickly unlocking it after memorizing the code from my countless observations. I searched for the home address followed by ‘Tatum Roat’ and clicked on the link that appeared. Handing him the phone, I watched as curiosity flickered in his eyes. He sat there scrolling, reading the horrific news—my murder, my history, my life laid bare before him.

He turned off his phone, setting it aside with a heavy thud, and sank into himself, his head bowed low. He licked his lips, taking a deep breath that seemed to fill the silence around us. Slowly, he turned to me, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. He cocked his head to the side, a hint of curiosity mingling with disbelief. “So what... you’re a... ghost?” he asked, his voice careful, as if testing the weight of the words. I nodded, my gaze drifting away, the cold truth settling heavily in my chest. Hearing it spoken aloud stung more than I anticipated.

“That’s actually kind of cool... and hot,” he murmured softly, a hint of a smile creeping onto his lips. I glanced up at him, a smirk playing on my own lips, my heart fluttering with a flicker of hope. “Yeah?” I asked, my voice laced with anticipation. “Yeah,” he confirmed, his eyes sparkling with an unexpected acceptance.

I began to take my place back on top of him, feeling the weight of the moment shift in the air. This time, he let me, his earlier fear replaced by a curious acceptance. I searched in his eyes, staring deep into his icy blue orbs that seemed to hold a world of secrets. Memories flooded back to me—his whimpering, the reason I had come here in the first place. A smirk played at my lips, a teasing glimmer in my gaze. “Why don’t you pick up where you left off? I didn’t mean to disrupt your playtime,” I said, my voice laced with playful mischief.

He looked at me with widened eyes, surprise etched across his features. “W-what...” he spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. I began tracing my fingers up his neck, reveling in the softness of his skin beneath my touch. “You heard me,” I replied, leaning in closer, my breath warm against his ear as I whispered the words that hung between us.

His breath quickened, and he cleared his throat, the tension in the air palpable. I climbed off of him, settling beside him on the bed, my heart racing with anticipation. I glanced down toward his lap, a smile spreading across my face as I looked back up at him. He was hard, the evidence of his desire undeniable. He gulped, his gaze darting to the side, avoiding mine.

The dim light cast a soft glow across his features, highlighting the beads of sweat that trickled down his forehead, a testament to the heat of the moment. I tilted my head to the side, pouting slightly, my eyes locking onto his. “What are you waiting for... just act like I’m not here,” I purred, my voice dripping with seduction, inviting him to abandon his hesitation.

His hands moved deliberately towards his lower body, retracing the path they had taken before. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pulled the blanket off of him, shedding the extra layer that felt too constricting in the charged atmosphere. He undid the string of his sweatpants, the fabric slipping down inch by inch, revealing more of him with each gradual pull. He paused for a moment, glancing over at me, and I could feel the intensity of his gaze. I was watching his every move, my breath hitching in anticipation.

My eyes flicked up to meet his, and I caught a glimpse of a pleasing look on his face, a mix of confidence and vulnerability. But just as quickly, he shifted his gaze back down, as if the intensity of the moment was too much to bear. He tugged his pants down to his thighs, leaving them still clinging to him, the fabric taut against his skin. His briefs followed closely after, slipping down with a teasing grace, revealing even more of him.

I gasped at the sight, my breath catching in my throat, causing his head to snap up in surprise. He looked nervous, visibly biting the inside of his cheek, a telltale sign of his unease. “What?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. I shook my head, a light smile playing on my lips. “S’pretty, baby,” I murmured, tugging my lip between my teeth to stifle the sounds that threatened to spill out. He blushed, his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson as he looked away from me. “...thanks...” he mumbled softly, the word barely escaping his lips.

He inched his hands down to his fully hardened dick, softly groaning as he made contact. He whimpered softly. God I could listen to that sound all day. Beginning to move at a slower pace, he began pumping his hand up and down faster, gaining speed. He furrowed his eyebrows, shutting his eyes tightly. His strokes were starting to get more sloppy. I could tell he was insanely close. His mouth hung low at he thrusted his hips in the air lightly. I was completely in love with the sight.

“O-oh go-” he tossed his head back, tears glimmering like tiny crystals as they streamed down his flushed cheeks. His legs trembled slightly on the bed, betraying the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. He breathed heavily, each gasp filled with a mix of pleasure and vulnerability, as he wiped his eyes with his clean hand.

He panted softly coming down from his intense high. I noticed the mess on his lower stomach, trailing my fingers towards him scooping some up. I placed my fingers in my mouth his sweet cum tasted like icing, rich and indulgent. I hum at the taste, licking everything up leaving nothing behind. I look up to meet Matt’s face, his eyes widened in shock, for the second time tonight.

tags- @shaquilles-0atmeal @monroesturnns @blahbel668 @mattssluttywaist @jetaimevous

A/n: this shit has been in my drafts for weekkksss but since it’s Halloween season soon why not

[clovenhoofedjester]

jellicle lineups; part 2/4

MOREEEE !!! MOREEEE !!!

rumpleteazer | 💰 🍹 🃏

PIGTAILS RUMP! PASTEL RUMP. blond rump. that is all. i really love that design. so i use it. the face markings are also meant to look like a stereotypical robber mask. i realized she looks a little fox-like while drawing her, which i didnt mind ! its fun !

her clothing design was already laid out for her so i left it virtually unchanged, asides from the pattern itself. imagine wearing clothes w a print of your best friends hair . that is rumpleteazer

even though 1 of her 3 words are impressionable, i think she is smarter than she lets on. i also think skimbleshanks is her dad. she'd be about 21 in human years

mungojerrie | 💸 🎰 🍾

PIGTAILS JERRIE AS WELL, BITCH ! i saw a jerrie w pigtails after i drew this and i felt so vindicated. i also based his design directly on 2019 mungojerrie because ommgggg transgender calico? trans little calico? i thought he deserved some pearls too. as well as a bell collar! it makes cats sneakier.

his clothing design is left unchanged too, asides from some fluff. he is also wearing a print of his best friends hair . smile 😃

hes just a funny fella. he totally doesnt have a history or anything. hed be 21 in human years

coricopat | 🍷 🔮 ♟

coricopat is pretty close to their replica design—the biggest difference being that the red in their design is warmer/purpler. that and the silver collar! i also had no idea what i was doing with her fit, so expect it to change in the upcoming art i do of him. i just wanted something gothy and flowy

hes also based on thalia, the muse of comedy. to keep the greek mythology theme going, and because i thought it was funny, and because (2x) i like... The Gimmick

i swear to god this cat knows things we dont. hed be like 22 in human years

tantomile | 🎭 🍩 🗝

tantomile is also close to his replica design. she has a gold collar. like i said w/ coricopat, the outfit is subject to change

as she was based on melpomene, the muse of tragedy, i decided to sacrifice identical makeup for the white mark on their muzzle being downturned like the frown of the tragedy mask :] giggle. smile

listen to all advice tantomile gives you. shed be also like 22 in human years

george | 🥏 🧋 🛹

i just had to give this (technical) swing some love. bless this happy background cat and his little :D smile. i decided to give him a simple little fit and made his fur/markings less plain white w some stripes. i think i also based his makeup off a victor costume ??

i think hes pouncival's older brother. hed also be 23 in human years

mr. mistoffelees | 🪄 ☕ 🌬

my silly, my funny. my little guy. i based their general Vibe on his john napier concept art, obc mistoffelees, 1990 paris mistoffelees, 2019 mistoffelees, and like. a fairys kiss of brentoffelees. i wish id have given him a bit of that il sistina style but i already had so many things going on LOL

it was definitely a very fun challenge to balance all of these. i also draw attention to the single white shoe—the cutest detail of timmy scotts misto

i definitely prefer a more visually unnerving, grown misto. and absolutely torn between portraying him as mute or verbal because on one hand... mute misto is so good. on the other hand.... oh my god. timothy scotts voice.jesus christ . i think hed be 23 in human years

the rum tum tugger | 🎤 🍽 🪞

WELCOME TO MY TWISTED WORLD. i really tried to keep tugger as cis guys i really did. but the thrall of a visually transgender tugger was too much to ignore. i already explained a lot of his design choices in my first posted drawing of it but like... blauhh... thigh garter, heart, golden whiskers/lashes. they are there. i also made his makeup a wee more theatrical w/ white on the chin to visually separate him from partridges tugger

i also decided to base his fur more on his obc design. like. terrence mann tugger. platinum blond spotted mane and head fur and such. i think it looks really good

im trying to hit the sweet spot between the goofy/serious/whiny/promiscuous portrayals of the him..... the man contains multitudes, you see. hed also be like 24 in human years and it goes without saying that hes one of deuts sons

AND THATS IT. stay tuned for more !

[marzipanandminutiae]

Opinion on Rachel Maksy?

Very nice in person (we've met briefly, in 2019), very talented in many ways, and very ambitious with her projects. She has a lot of creative vision and always seems willing to challenge herself to make that vision a reality. All of that is very cool!

That said, it does annoy me a bit that a lot of her sewing videos seem to rely on this whole "adorkable goof who doesn't know anything about sewing flying by the seat of her pants" schtick when she is friends with so many advanced sewists and therefore should realistically be improving at least a little bit? Ever? She HAS to know what a mockup is by now, and yet she never makes one; a lot of her really amazing designs are brought down by overly wonky fit, in ways that she should be able to troubleshoot at this point.

And if sewing just isn't her thing to the point where making a mockup is too much work- totally fine; not everyone likes every form of crafting -why does she keep doing it? Why not just stick with home stuff and vintage hair, makeup, and outfit coordination? Or at least address it in the videos- say something like "hey, I don't like doing mockups, though I know they're a Thing!" and move on?

One for the ages, I suppose. Regardless, like I said, a very nice person with impressive skills in many areas and a lot of drive!

[goatsandgangsters]

Today's art/literary history lesson is on: Aubrey Beardsley

Beardsley's illustration forms the background for A Power Unbound, which is a cool moment of historical connection and intertextuality

Aubrey Beardsley was a turn-of-the-century artist who was part of the Aesthetic/Decadent movements that challenged Victorian social norms in art and literature. Queerness and eroticism were significant components of these movements, which often incorporated sensation, transgression, and sexuality.

Beardsley's art was considered provocative for its use of the grotesque, the sexual, and the androgynous. (Notably, he drove his editors bonkers by always hiding dicks and other phallic silhouettes in his art.)

Beardsley was the art editor for The Yellow Book, a literary journal printed in the 1890s. It was so named because of its intentionally garish yellow cover, which was meant to mimic the style of lewd French texts.

However, Beardsley is probably best remembered today for his illustrations that accompanied Oscar Wilde's controversial play Salomé. Although Wilde himself was not involved with The Yellow Book, his association with Beardsley through Salomé was so well known that The Yellow Book forced Beardsley out of his position as art editor following Wilde's trial; The Yellow Book did not last much longer after that. Aestheticism overall suffered in the wake of Wilde's trial specifically because of its association with Wilde and queer, transgressive artists.

But, given Beardsley's artistic ethos and the inextricable queerness of those movements as a whole, Beardsley's Decadent art is a fitting choice for the cover of A Power Unbound—which is itself a celebration of unapologetically queer and sexual art (and features its own lewd publications with notably colored covers 😉).

--

If you're interested in Beardsley or Decadence/Aestheticism and want to read more, here's a reference list (I'm happy to share PDFs—just let me know!): 

Kaye, Richard. 2019. “Aestheticism and Decadence, Nineteenth-Century.” In Global Encyclopedia of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer (LGBTQ) History: A-F.

Glick, Elisa. 2014. “Turn-of-the-Century Decadence and Aestheticism.” In The Cambridge History of Gay and Lesbian Literature, 325–43. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. https://doi.org/10.1017/CHO9781139547376.023.

Brake, Laurel. 2013. “Aestheticism and Decadence: The Yellow Book (1894–7), The Chameleon (1894), and The Savoy (1896).” In The Oxford Critical and Cultural History of Modernist Magazines: Volume I: Britain and Ireland 1880-1955. https://doi.org/10.1093/acprof:osobl/9780199654291.003.0006

Denisoff, Dennis. 2007. “Decadence and Aestheticism.” In The Cambridge Companion to the Fin de Siècle, 31–53. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. https://doi.org/10.1017/CCOL9780521850636.003

[chosetherose]

We knew it all along 🍊🩵

Taylor released Sweeter Than Fiction exclusive to the Tangerine vinyl at Target. She said this about it:

“There you’ll stand ten feet tall, I will say ‘I knew it all along’ 🥲 This song has always made me think of my friend Jack. It was the first song we made together and watching him challenge himself and make beautiful art over the years has been the thrill of a lifetime. How can he be 6 years older than me and also somehow still be my precocious young son? We may never know. “Sweeter Than Fiction (My Version)” is now available exclusively at Target on Tangerine vinyl 🍊🩵”

I find this funny for a couple reasons:

1. She created an orange (tangerine) edition with an exclusive track that repeats the lyrics “this life is sweeter than fiction”.

Let it sink in. Orange, which we picked up on as a stunting color, is the only version that includes this song. She is saying her true love is sweeter than the fictitious love we see in stunts.

2. She used the 🍊 emoji. And for some reason this makes me feel we are seen. She is aware of the hijinks that go on around here. (Extra giggles: @spade-riddles regularly uses the 🎯 emoji).

Looking deeper, the lyrics to STF are especially 👀 to me.

3. If you read this through a Tumblr Kaylor lens does it not sound perfectly like a redemption story? (Please I know we are just silly little internet people in all this but hear me out).

The first verse is about coming undone, watching us fall, watching our colors fade with a pain we thought would last forever.

In the second verse after the chorus, all we have is our shattered hopes. Then, they never saw it coming, but we were on to something and hit the ground running. 

In the pre-chorus, the light comes on. We proved her right, them wrong. And it’s like we don’t remember when we thought the rain would last forever.

The chorus repeats including that we will stand tall, the rest is history.

The bridge says we’ll be one of many saying look at us now, you made us proud. Then goes into the sentiment of loving someone when they are down, like we’ve loved Kaylor’s true love in its deepest darkness.

4. Notably, Taylor highlighted “There you’ll stand ten feet tall, I will say ‘I knew it all along’”. This reminds me so much of this riddle from Spade.

♠️ My riddles aren’t chronological but they do foreshadow. Piece them together and see the picture. You’ve known all along so now, follow along. - 05/11/2019

And generally, highlighting those lyrics gives me vibes of change in the air.

Bonus:

Taylor described Jack as like her “precocious” young son. Ok but any adjective would have worked there. Why this one? Here is its definition:

Showing mental development or achievement much earlier than usual

It fits the theme of knowing something before others. 💅🏼

I’ll be dissecting this post for ages 😂

[glamorouspixels]

Miss Fisher's Whumptober Challenge is back for 2023!

What is Whumptober?

Whumptober is a month-long creative fandom challenge consisting of 31 themes and prompts. “Whump” means a work in which characters are put in emotionally and/or physically painful situations, and usually these works can be categorized as hurt/comfort.

How does this work?

If this sounds like your thing, simply go to this spreadsheet, write your name behind one of the prompts, and create something for it (to be posted at any point in October and the first week of November; it doesn’t have to be up on the actual day your prompt was assigned to). Each prompt can be claimed by multiple people and you can create something for as many of them as you want.

Please tag your works “MFMMwhumptober” and if you post them on AO3, you can also add them to this collection.

Even if whump isn’t for you, we’ve modified the event so you can still participate! We’ve had several writers bend the rules and write fluffy or smutty works for this challenge. Just make sure to tag your works appropriately and specify whether they contain comfort elements or are pure angst. Our main goal is to get you to write so all contributions are welcome!

This is the original announcement post and here is the official collection, which you can also add your entries to as long as they somewhat fit the overall theme of the original challenge.

Where can I check out the previous years’ entries?

Whumptober has been a longstanding tradition in this fandom so there are a lot of examples to draw inspiration from. You can read all of the past entries here:

2018

2019

2020

2021

2022

The fandom has grown a lot since last year and we want to encourage as many of you as possible to participate in this wonderful event. We look forward to seeing all your wonderful contributions!

[billspotts]

“You are the product of the Venezuelan elite, and you don’t understand the revolution.” A classmate said that to me during my first year of college in Maryland in 2021, during our Nonviolence and Liberation class. These comments, although not new to me, always stung. Each time I heard them, I was reminded that my perspective as a Venezuelan refugee didn’t align with the prevailing narrative in the room. It was as if my lived experiences didn’t matter if they didn’t fit the ideological frame of those around me.

Every day while walking through campus, I passed two posters with images of Chávez—one declaring, “The revolution will not be televised,” and the other “Que siga la revolución.” These posters, plastered on the walls of a liberal arts college in the United States, were a daily reminder of the ideological battles I was fighting alone. Despite my repeated efforts to have them removed, I was told they were protected by free speech and had educational value. While my peers saw them as symbols of resistance or anti-imperialism, I saw them as painful reminders of the suffering my family and I had endured. It became clear that many of the people around me were romanticizing a revolution that, in reality, had brought nothing but hardship to those it was meant to uplift.

I lacked a heavy accent, came from a college-educated, white-collar family, and was enrolled in a private liberal arts college. None of this fits their image of what a refugee is to be. 

To them, I wasn’t a person who had fled political persecution—I was a privileged outsider, speaking from a place of right-wing indoctrination. Every time I tried to share my experiences, my voice was dismissed, often with the suggestion that I had been brainwashed by anti-left propaganda. It was frustrating, especially having personally witnessed the devastation caused by a government that, while promoting the ideals of socialism and revolution, systematically dismantled democratic institutions and plunged millions into poverty.

Another vivid memory from my college days was when a professor casually remarked, “You shouldn’t really complain about the dining hall. Didn’t you grow up without food in Venezuela?” I was left speechless, exhausted from constantly having to explain the complexities behind my homeland’s collapse– complexities often dismissed by the oversimplified argument that U.S. sanctions were responsible for Venezuela’s shortages, migration crisis, and lack of necessities. However, I left Venezuela long before Trump’s 2019 sanctions, having lived through the 2014 crisis when market lines stretched for kilometers, medical supplies were scarce, and corruption was rampant at every level of government. Blaming U.S. policies alone for Venezuela’s downfall overlooked years of internal mismanagement and growing authoritarianism.

I often found myself in a lonely battle—not only educating my peers on the harsh realities on the ground but also challenging professors who romanticized revolution and liberation, views rooted in theory but far removed from lived experience. 

I chose my small college because of its active student organizing and political activism. However, my time at Goucher College was overshadowed by the reality that opinions not immediately aligned with the left or deviating from the narrative that “everything on the left is good” were often dismissed. I spent significant time and energy explaining and defending the reality I had left behind, sometimes making me question my experiences. I was disappointed and further isolated by the lack of openness or willingness to discuss the dictatorship, not just from my American peers but in general. The ideological rigidity I faced in college mirrored the fractured society I had left in Venezuela, where strict political adherence divided families and destroyed friendships. 

This experience extends beyond my college as prominent left-wing figures like Bernie Sanders have hesitated to outright condemn Maduro’s dictatorship while advocating for free elections. This reluctance reflects a broader struggle within left-leaning politicians to confront authoritarianism from ideologically sympathetic regimes. Many hesitate to denounce authoritarian actions within left-wing governments because doing so undermines their narratives of social justice, anti-imperialism, and equality. In Venezuela’s case, Chávez’s Bolivarian Revolution was initially seen as a hopeful alternative to neoliberalism and U.S. interventionism; as Maduro’s oppressive regime intensified, it challenged their belief that left-wing regimes inherently represent the people’s interests, complicating the narrative that right-wing governments are the sole oppressors.

Figures like Sanders, who have built their platforms on anti-imperialism and opposition to the U.S.-backed regime change, fear that taking too firm a position against Maduro could inadvertently lend support to interventions they oppose. 

This has led to a form of rhetorical tightrope walking—where there is a clear condemnation of the lack of democratic processes but a reluctance to call out Maduro’s government in the stark terms applied to other authoritarian regimes.

The Venezuelan crisis is not just about sanctions or foreign intervention; it’s a complex story of corruption, political repression, and economic collapse. And yet, many preferred to see it through the simplistic lens of an American-backed coup, as if Venezuelans themselves are incapable of recognizing the failures of their government. This dismissal of Venezuelans’ capacity to understand and navigate their own political and social realities is yet another manifestation of a form of paternalism that centers the U.S. in a narrative that is not, and should not be, about them. Revealing a deeply ingrained bias, where people from the Global South are viewed as passive actors in their own lives, reliant on external powers, particularly the U.S., to “correct” their course or provide solutions. 

At this new juncture in Venezuelan politics and history, the narrative of foreign interference continues to thrive. Protests organized by Venezuelan expatriates in major U.S. cities, calling attention to the electoral fraud committed by Maduro and his terror campaign as well as demanding recognition of Edmundo González as the rightful president-elect of Venezuela, are often met with American counter-protests. These counter-protesters, echoing Gonzalez ‘s victory a U.S. intervention, hold signs and chant old slogans like “Hands off Venezuela.”  The assumption that Venezuelans need Americans to define their struggles or guide their revolutions is rooted in a condescending worldview that strips them of their agency and dignity. The mass exodus of Venezuelans, now one of the largest migration crises in the Western Hemisphere, stands as a powerful testament to the disillusionment and despair caused by years of authoritarian rule, not external interference. Such narratives fail to acknowledge the intelligence and determination of those who continue to fight for a better future.

For Venezuelans, the reality of living under an authoritarian regime is not about political theory or ideological purity—it’s about survival.

My experiences in college made me steadfast in my resolve. I am Venezuelan; I lived through the horrors of the Chávez and Maduro regimes and I fled to the United States seeking a better life. While I acknowledge the privilege that allowed me to do so, that privilege neither erases nor minimizes my suffering, nor did it shield me from living in fear while in Venezuela. That I survived, along with the mental scars carried by myself and the 8 million Venezuelans in exile, are not up for debate.

It is my belief that when ideological loyalty surpasses empathy, humanity is lost. We cannot let political beliefs blind us to the suffering of others, especially when that suffering is happening so close to home. To dismiss it isn’t just a lack of compassion—it’s willful ignorance. And those who claim to understand “the revolution” better than those who lived through its devastation are not only out of touch—they’re complicit. Blinded by their arrogance, they refuse to see the truth, choosing self-righteousness over justice, and in doing so, they betray the very humanity they claim to defend.

[nothoughtsonlytrance]

Hey everyone! Here is my submission for the Dan and Phil Phasquerade Tumblr Event! First off, as a surprise, I made not one, but TWO songs for the event!

The first one is the main theme song for the event as requested by @wdapteo! 生き甲斐 (Ikigai)! It’s not fully orchestral but I put a bit of strings and horns in there, so I guess it counts lol! I decided to go with a theme that was mainly based around guitars and synths. I also put in a few Asian instruments such as the koto to represent their trips to Japan. The title “Ikigai” is a Japanese concept that refers to one’s sense of purpose or reason to live and is a combination of the words “iki”(to live) and “gai” (reason). This concept can include people such as friends, families, and partners, as well as activities such as one’s hobby or pastime. It basically means that one can find joy in their life by being aligned with their purpose. I thought this concept would be perfect for the phasquerade because Dan and Phil’s ikigai or reason to live is each other. 🥰

As for the background image, I found a picture on Adobe Stock Photos of two masquerade masks that looked PERFECT for Dan and Phil. (The black one is Dan’s and the white one is Phil’s, obviously, lol 😂) Phanartists, feel free to use those masks in ur art! 👌🏻

The second song I made is an orchestral ballroom version of JVKE’s Golden Hour! It took me around two days to do, along with constant listening to the song to get the chords right and then add my own bits on top of it 😂 I’m really proud of this version because lemme tell ya, making orchestral music on Garageband IOS is harder than it looks 😭😅 I still can’t believe how far I’ve gone with making music on this app bc I started using it in 2018 and back then, I had a hard time navigating everything but I slowly worked my way up to where I am now, and tbh I still have far more to go! The background image I used for this is another stock image I found on Pexels that fit the vibe of the song! (Also the two men in the picture looked like Dan and Phil haha 😂)

Anyways, here's a little introduction of me: I’m Kristy, aka @nothoughtsonlytrance. My pronouns are she/they and I am pansexual! (Fun fact, I found out I was pan around the same time that Dan and Phil came out in 2019 lol) I’ve been watching Dan and Phil since around 2012/2013 (so when I was around 12 or 13 years old) because that was the time when I really started watching YouTube and eventually found their channels. I vividly remember watching the Photobooth Challenge video and crying with laughter because it was so hilarious. I continued to look forward to seeing their videos after school and finally got to see them on stage in 2018 for their Interactive Introverts tour when they came to Richmond, VA. (didn’t get VIP tickets for the meet and greet tho so I still have yet to meet them in person 😭🤞) It continues to be one of my favorite memories of them and I remember crying when seeing them on stage. Their videos mean so much to me and I even made my quote for my college graduation cap “Embrace the void and have the courage to exist” because their videos got me through the last two semesters of college!😎👌🏻(Which got noticed by Dan and Phil in their Phan Twitter Memes 2 video!) Words cannot express how proud I am of them, especially after their coming out videos and how they feel more free to be themselves! And I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for them! (And also us haha)

I think the song that will be playing when I take the stage is “Once Upon a December” from the musical Anastasia! It is one of my favorite musicals and I even got to see it in NYC with my family a few years back! Also, as someone who was adopted from Russia, this song really speaks to me personally. I don’t speak Russian fluently, only a few basic words and phrases that my parents taught me that they learned when they were adopting me, (I only speak English) but I’ve been trying to learn the lyrics to the Russian version of the song so I can sing along with it too. (Pronouncing Russian isn’t easy haha)

Anyways, here’s my post for the phasquerade! Hope you all enjoy the music! I had so much fun being a part of this and thank you so much to @serendipnpipity for planning and organizing this!