#for when i actually have a computer again

[thisiswhattheycallafinecareer]

from Chapter 19 of Educated by Tara Westover (2018):

Failing a quiz did nothing to undermine my new devotion to an old creed, but a lecture on Western art did.

The classroom was bright when I arrived, the morning sun pouring in warmly through a high wall of windows. I chose a seat next to a girl in a high-necked blouse. Her name was Vanessa. "We should stick together," she said. "I think we're the only freshmen in the whole class."

The lecture began when an old man with small eyes and a sharp nose shuttered the windows. He flipped a switch and a slide projector filled the room with white light. The image was of a painting. The professor discussed the composition, the brushstrokes, the history.

Then he moved to the next painting, and the next and the next. Then the projector showed a peculiar image, of a man in a faded hat and overcoat. Behind him loomed a concrete wall. He held a small paper near his face but he wasn't looking at it. He was looking at us. I opened the picture book I'd purchased for the class so I could take a closer look. Something was written under the image in italics but I couldn't understand it. It had one of those black-hole words, right in the middle, devouring the rest.

I'd seen other students ask questions, so I raised my hand. The professor called on me, and I read the sentence aloud. When I came to the word, I paused. "I don't know this word," I said. "What does it mean?"

There was silence.

Not a hush, not a muting of the noise, but utter, almost violent silence. No papers shuffled, no pencils scratched. The professor's lips tightened. "Thanks for that," he said, then returned to his notes.

I scarcely moved for the rest of the lecture. I stared at my shoes, wondering what had happened, and why, whenever I looked up, there was always someone staring at me as if I was a freak. Of course I was a freak, and I knew it, but I didn't understand how they knew it.

When the bell rang, Vanessa shoved her notebook into her pack. Then she paused and said, "You shouldn't make fun of that. It's not a joke." She walked away before I could reply. I stayed in my seat until everyone had gone, pretending the zipper on my coat was stuck so I could avoid looking anyone in the eye.

Then I went straight to the computer lab to look up the word "Holocaust." I don't know how long I sat there reading about it, but at some point I'd read enough. I leaned back and stared at the ceiling. I suppose I was in shock, but whether it was the shock of learning about something horrific, or the shock of learning about my own ignorance, I'm not sure.

I do remember imagining for a moment, not the camps, not the pits or chambers of gas, but my mother's face. A wave of emotion took me, a feeling so intense, so unfamiliar, I wasn't sure what it was. It made me want to shout at her, at my own mother, and that frightened me.

I searched my memories. In some ways the word "Holocaust" wasn't wholly unfamiliar. Perhaps Mother had taught me about it, when we were picking rosehips or tincturing hawthorn. I did seem to have a vague knowledge that Jews had been killed somewhere, long ago. But I'd thought it was a small conflict, like the Boston Massacre, which Dad talked about a lot, in which half a dozen people had been martyred by a tyrannical government. To have misunderstood it on this scale-five versus six million-seemed impossible.

I found Vanessa before the next lecture and apologized for the joke. I didn't explain, because I couldn't explain. I just said I was sorry and that I wouldn't do it again. To keep that promise, I didn't raise my hand for the rest of the semester.

Tara Westover is an American memoirist and scholar of world cultures. The youngest of seven children born in a highly controlling religious household in Idaho to Mormon survivalist parents. Educated is her narrative of overcoming abuse, fighting for her education, and self-actualizing.

Full text for free found here.

Don't let them gaslight you into believing that any controlled religion is less dangerous than it is. It is deadly.

mormons undoubtedly in the top 5 worst things the united states has ever invented which is really saying something

[maxedes]

nico rosberg commentating sky ger fp3 - spanish gp 2025

they have commented on almost nothing happening on track, just full hour of gossiping. it was beautiful.

- nico got praised for being able to switch between languages by the other commentator

- called fernando one of the best of all times, said it‘s crazy how long ago his last win has been, but that it is his own damn fault that he isn‘t a five time wdc like he could be bc he kept burning bridges. he said he personally has no problem with fernando though

- said oscar is first in the wdc standings because he has a „solid & stable mentality“ and norris in his opinion has a bit more natural talent but is too insecure. he said they have an „interesting dynamic“

- says mental strength is super important because you will be thinking about all of it in the car. eg. „oh i hope i don‘t mess this up again“ „i hope my teammmate isn‘t faster than me again“ (projecting?)

- on briatore: „he slowly snuck back into the sport again,“ then explained all of crashgate & said that it caused him to lose his first win because he was in second when it happened. he said briatore technically isn‘t even allowed to be tp because he has not contract with alpine? he‘s technically still only an advisor. nico said „he is a legend though.“

- called nico hülkenberg one of the best qualifiers of the last season but he has been lacking this season

- said audi should be more ambitious about their goal to start being good in 2030 & that is is problematic how many times they changed leader positions already.

- praised alex & said carlos is in an unconfortable spot because alex is the stronger driver this season. said carlos should be stronger because alex is „no leclerc“

- called james vowles an „absolute genius“ & that he brought structure and communication to the team and that is why they are doing so well this season

- said toto had to start micromanaging & became an aero expert because their team has been so bad in that department

- said fred is „phenomenal“ in bringing talent together and finding talents.

- said they got a ton of guidelines on what they could & could not ask vasseur & the ferrari drivers during press, so you can see that the pressure is there.

- said he got strict instructions & what he was allowed to ask lewis & the other guy on commentary laughed & said „i wonder why“ (i have the clip, will translate & upload later)

- interviewed james vowles: nico asked about his & totos „beef.“ saying: „well did you talk or were you yelling at each other?“ james said they were talking

- nico & the other commentator were making fun of the optics of the yelling between toto & vowles in the paddock (again have the clip, will translate & upload later)

- said lawson was never that impressive in his earlier career

- praised isack for driving incredibly & mentally recovering so easily from the australia crash

- talked about the importance of a good race engineer

- said the worst thing that can happen to a driver is the wind changing during a session (important for an engineer to tell their driver about it)

- said between fp3 & quali, a driver has no downtime. they mainly spent the break in front of the computer looking at data

- nico told his engineer back in the day that he needs him to be more motivated when he is doing bad, because he cannot do well when his engineer sounds like „he‘s falling into deep depression“

- max put a faster lap than george & nico said he still thought george‘s was more impressive

- „it‘s the max verstappen factor that is beating the mclarens, not the redbull. that red bull is definitely worse. sometimes by a lot“

- he called max one of the top 5 drivers the sport has ever seem

- was incredibly impressed by oscars fastes lap

- he said - „with all due respect“ - that norris engineer was wrong when saying the car only had proposing because nico actually heard the cars floor hit the curb. nico proposed sending the engineer a whatsapp to tell him that.

- said it was „a really hard setback for hamilton just now“ when his lap time was so far behind oscar (7/10th) & charles (4/10ths). said it must be so hard for him but also that the ferrari has been looking bad all weekend

[dreamwritesimagines]

Declassified [7] - Whiskey

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Alcohol leads to honest promises.

Warnings: Explicit language, drinking, angst, yearning.

Word Count: 5050

Series Masterlist

After Bucky’s win, you and the rest of the team had about two months to move to DC.

And needless to say, things were quite chaotic.

“I’m telling you, the best way to get over a relationship is a new city,” Kelsey said while you kept your eyes on the computer screen, and Caleb laid on his back on top of his desk, scrolling on his phone. “So you scheduled your break up perfectly.”

“I did not schedule my break up, Kels,” you muttered and paused for a moment. “Although, it is a good idea if I ever decide to date again.”

“You will date again.”

“Not anytime soon.” You turned the screen to her. “What do we think about this apartment?”

“What are you guys doing here?” Bucky’s voice reached you and you all turned to him, Caleb sitting up as he entered the bullpen to approach your desk. You tried to ignore how fast your heartbeat got when he smiled at you, and you nodded at him before forcing yourself to turn your gaze to the screen again.

Play it cool.

“We figured we’d pay our respects to the office before we closed it down,” Kelsey said. “What are you doing here?”

“Sarah says the boys forgot a toy figurine here somewhere,” Bucky said. “Came to look for it, couldn’t find it—you are not supposed to be working this week.”

“We’re not working.”

“So you decided to come to the office that we’re closing down on your time off just because?”

You tilted your head. “That sounds like judgment from the man who’s standing in the same bullpen as we are.”

“That’s probably because I am judging,” Bucky pointed out. “And I have an actual reason to be here.”

“So do we,” you said. “We were feeling sentimental and the wifi here is better—Kels, the apartment?”

Kelsey took a peek at the screen. “Meh, maybe. Depends on which one would be my room. Caleb?”

“I don’t care as long as the living room is big,” Caleb said and Bucky looked between you, his brows pulling into a frown.

“You’re moving in together?”

“Mm hm.”

“All three of you?”

“You know how people bond in prison and stuff?” Caleb asked. “Turns out, the same thing happens when you work in politics.”

“I don’t know DC, Caleb has student loans and Birdie has just got out of a relationship,” Kelsey said. “We figured all three of us together equal one functional member of society.”

That made Bucky pause for a second, his gaze on you warming your cheeks while you forced yourself to keep your attention on the screen.

 “And are you okay?” he asked. “With the break up?”

…Fine.

Things with Bucky were still a little weird.

He was still dating Hazel, who did not like you, and sailing through this break up while also trying to change cities was not doing your anxiety any favors. Kelsey had a point, you did not think you could stay alone at least for a while, especially when your crush on Bucky was evolving every goddamn day.

Who was, to repeat, in a relationship.

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah I’m fine, I only cried for like two hours yesterday.”

“That’s why we’re getting you a new guy—”

“Already?”

 That made all of you turn to Bucky and he blinked a couple of times, then cleared his throat.

“I just mean…” He motioned vaguely. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with waiting a little. You just broke up with the guy.”

“I downloaded a bunch of apps after I broke up with my last boyfriend, and we weren’t even together for the quarter of time she was with that asshole,” Kelsey stated and Bucky’s frown deepened.

“You’re on apps now?”

“I’m not on anything except real estate sites,” you announced and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought the exhale that left Bucky’s lips was one of relief. “And I’m not dating anyone for a while.”

“Birdie, you need to go on a couple of dates to at least catch up.”

Bucky made a face. “Catch up?”

 “Look at her, she’s like a newborn deer!” Caleb reached out to squeeze your cheeks “All clueless about how hard it is out there!”

You batted his hand away.

“I will kick your ass if I have to,” you grumbled, clicking on another listing while Kelsey nodded solemnly.

“She is a newborn deer and there are wolves out there, Bucky.”

“Don’t ask why they’re like this because I don’t have a good answer,” you told Bucky who scoffed a laugh as you pulled open your drawer to pull out a file. “By the way, I forgot to put it in the boxes and we sent most of them away. Want me to drop it off at your place later on?”

“Would you?”

“Oh yeah, I have to go to the bank around the neighborhood anyway. No problem.”

“You still have my key, right?”

“Mm hm,” you said and checked the time. “You should get going by the way. You have that lunch thing.”

“Hold on, how did you…?”

“Checking your calendar is muscle memory at this point, I do it every day.”

“To repeat, you’re supposed to be relaxing, not working.”

“And you’re supposed to be on your way to lunch.” You shot him a smug grin. “So how about you worry about the material of your own house instead of throwing stones?”  

Bucky held up his hands, gesturing surrender.

“Let me know if you see any toy figurines here?”

“Will do!” you said as he walked away and Caleb laid down on the desk again, then rolled onto his side.

“We all agree that he wants you, right?”

“He wants his girlfriend, Caleb.”

“In his defense, you had a boyfriend when he got himself a girlfriend,” Kelsey said, making your jaw clench. “He can’t just drop her the moment you break up with your boyfriend.”

“He can, actually.” Caleb commented and Kelsey shook her head.

“I was with the guy 24/7 during the election time, so trust me, he won’t. He was raised to be the perfect 40s gentleman, things worked differently when it came to relationships back then, so he thinks he can’t, at least not right now. If we look at it from his perspective—”

“We’re not going to look at anything from his perspective because there’s nothing to look at.” You cut her off, then turned the screen to her again. “Check this out?”

                                                  *

You liked Bucky’s apartment.

You didn’t know if it was because there were many things that looked like they didn’t belong to this century or the scent of him that lingered, but whenever you visited you always felt relaxed.

“Hi Alpine.” You bent down to pet the white furball when she came to greet you at the door with a meow. “Aren’t you the prettiest princess? Hm? Aren't you the cutest kitty?”

She purred, bumping her head on your ankle.

“I got you your favorite treat, just give me one sec,” you said as you made your way to Bucky’s study to put the file on his desk, and Alpine darted back to the hallway. You approached the phonograph at the corner of the room to take a peek at the records, running your fingertips over a Ella Fitzgerald record before the sound of keys jingling reached your ears, making your head whip around when you heard your name being spat in distaste.

“No I’m telling you, I don’t trust her,” Hazel’s voice was clear as the door closed and your eyes widened.

“Shit…” you whispered, looking around in frenzy before you rushed to the desk to get under it, her footsteps going past the study.

Alright.

Maybe you had not thought this through.

There was no way you could just announce your presence now, and judging by how angry she had said your name, you figured it would’ve made things even more awkward than they already were.

Trust Bucky to give his keys three months into the relationship.

“No I just dropped by his place, I forgot my fucking—oh here it is.” Her voice got closer before she entered the study and flung herself on the couch, making you grimace.

Fuck.

Through the small crack, you could see her putting her phone on the small coffee table by the couch before she stretched out.

“I’m so tired.”

“I just think you’re stressed out over nothing,” A female voice said from the speaker and Hazel groaned.

“It’s not nothing,” she insisted. “I’m telling you, she wants him. And if you saw that hug…”

Jesus Christ, what was it with everyone and that hug?

“It was just a hug.”

“He has never hugged me like that,” Hazel replied. “He didn’t even hug me like that that night!”

“I’d say he hugged you plenty for the rest of the night,” A laugh echoed in the room and Hazel scoffed.

“Sex with Bucky…” she trailed off, making your heart skip a beat. “Trust me, that’s a whole new level but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Great. This was just great.

Not only were you crushing on your boss, you now had to listen to the said boss’s sex life with his girlfriend while you were hiding from the aforementioned girlfriend under his desk.

All because you had to be nice and volunteer to drop that file off while he wasn’t home.

“Bucky has this wall around him.” Hazel’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “And no matter how perfect the sex is, the moment you so much as approach that wall, he just shuts down.”

Your eyes widened when you saw Alpine peek her head around the desk before she happily jumped into your lap, pushing at your folded legs.

“What are you doing?” you mouthed as if she could answer you, but she only head-butted your knee, then blinked up at you, making you run a hand over your face before you started scratching at her head.

This was not what you had imagined when you applied for a job in politics.

“And you know how it is,” she said. “Young female aide gives him puppy dog eyes whenever he’s around and the next thing you know…”

Alpine gave you a quizzical look and you rolled your eyes, then shook your head.

“I get it, but she’s been around him for a while now and nothing happened.”

“She has a boyfriend.”

Ah.

Bucky hadn’t told her about your breakup then.

“And he has a girlfriend,” her friend insisted. “A hot, successful, wealthy girlfriend, he’s not gonna throw that away for some dumb girl. And besides, you’re much hotter.”

The interesting thing was that Kelsey had said the exact same thing about you just a week ago.

“I don’t know,” Hazel said with a sigh. “I feel like I’m trespassing sometimes. Maybe he doesn’t actually like me. I mean, even his cat doesn’t like me.”

You looked down at Alpine who was kneading your leg while purring and ran your fingers through her soft fur.

“It’s a damn cat, Haze.”

Hazel scoffed a laugh. “I know it’s been only three months but I really like him, you know?”

Oh, you definitely knew the feeling.

“And I want to make it work, but I’m not sure if I can if she’s in the picture,” she said. “Not to mention they’ll both be in DC—”

“His whole team is moving there, not just her,” her friend reminded her. “And if she’s bothering you that much, just tell Bucky to fire her.”

That made your hand stop mid-air.

Excuse you?

“I mentioned it to him the other day,” Hazel said, making your jaw drop. “And at first he genuinely thought it was a joke as if even the idea is unthinkable, so he laughed it off but when he saw I was serious, it got kind of…tense.”

“Tense?”

“He just shut it down, refused to even talk about it, and he was so cold that—it’s like she’s his line in the sand. Untouchable.”

“No she’s not,” her friend said. “Honestly, I doubt he even thinks about her outside work. He just wants to keep her because she is good at her job, nothing more.”

Hazel rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna tell you something but you can’t call me paranoid.”

“Shoot.”

“I’m not sure but last night it kind of sounded like he muttered her name in his sleep.”

Her friend’s laugh was loud enough to cover the small gasp that left your lips, making you put your hand over mouth and you closed your eyes shut, half expecting Hazel to approach the table but thankfully, she hadn’t heard it.

“Paranoid.”

“It really sounded like that!”

“As I said, you’re being paranoid,” she said. “Haze, relax. The great Bucky Barnes is all yours, with or without that starry-eyed girl in the picture.”

That made you bite inside your cheek, the familiar ache twisting your stomach and she got up from the couch, making your head whip up.

“Gotta go, I’ll call you later,” she said and hung up, then walked out of the study before you heard the front door open, and close again.

Relief hit you so hard that you felt dizzy, and you let out a breath before carefully lifting Alpine from your lap to come out from under the desk.

“Well that was a new low, wasn’t it?” you muttered and turned to Alpine. “Come on, I’ll give you your food in the kitchen.”

Alpine followed you to the kitchen and jumped on the kitchen island as you rummaged through your purse to take out a can of wet food. You opened it and put it in front of her, and she dug in while you heaved a sigh, trailing your fingers over her fur.

“You know, contrary to what she thinks, I am not dumb,” you said. “I get why she doesn’t like me. I don’t like her either, but mine is because of the jealousy that Bucky is dating her, which I know, I know; that’s very immature and I shouldn’t do it but come on, she wants to get me fired.”

Alpine didn’t even lift her head.

“She asked him to fire me!” you insisted. “There’s a line, seriously. I would never do that, regardless of how jealous I was. You don’t fuck with people’s jobs.”

Unsurprisingly, Alpine was more interested in her food than your rambling.

“Your father doesn’t like me that way, for the record,” you added. “And I do not give anyone puppy dog eyes, okay? That’s just how I look at people.”

She finished her food and raised her head, licking around her mouth and you huffed out, then threw the can in the trash.

“I’ll bring you another one the next time if you promise not to tell your dad.”

“Mrow?”

“Good, you got yourself a deal,” you said and pressed a kiss on the top of her head, then grabbed your purse and walked out of the apartment.

                                                *

Going into the bank, getting stuff done and getting out was supposed to be fast but you could hardly focus on anything, your mind still replaying what Hazel had said about Bucky saying your name in his sleep over and over again. You wondered whether there was even a slight chance it was anything close to your dreams because more than once you had woken up, breathing out Bucky’s name, your whole body on fire, your mind fuzzy—

No way.

Bucky dreaming about you only existed in Hazel’s mind, nothing more.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you barely heard someone calling out your name, but as soon as you did, your head whipped around.

What in the goddamn fuck was with you running into people in this city at the most inconvenient time possible?

“Hi Tessa,” you said, plastering a smile on your face. “What a coincidence.”

“Hi,” she said, shifting her weight from one foot to other. “How have you been? Max mentioned…”

She trailed off, averting her eyes from you and you waved a hand in the air.

“Oh I’m totally fine. How about you?”

“I’m good,” she said. “I saw Barnes won the election, that’s great! I voted for him.”

“Aw thanks,” you said. “Max didn’t but um—I appreciate it.”

“He didn’t?”

“Nope,” you said. “Long story. How about you, how is work?”

“It’s good. So since he won, are you gonna move to DC?”

“Yeah.”

“Should be fun,” she said. “Listen, I know you barely know me but I know how stressful this whole thing can be, so if you need anything about the moving stuff, just let me know.”

“Thank you so much,” you said and she waved a hand in the air, then stepped in to hug you, the heavy perfume tickling the bridge of your nose, making you grimace.

That somehow smelled familiar—

Oh.

Oh, that motherfucker…

You could feel your jaw clench as the realization dawned on you, and she pulled back to smile at you.

“I shouldn’t keep you long, I’m sure you have so much to do,” she said. “But like I said, anything I can do, let me know.”

You gawked at her for a couple of seconds before you took a deep breath.

“Do you mind if I take you up on that offer now?”

“Sure thing!”

“Good. Can you tell me how long Max has been fucking you behind my back?”

That wiped the smile off her face, making her swallow thickly as a nervous laugh spilled from her lips.

“I don’t—I—” she stammered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do,” you said, your voice calm despite the anger burning in your veins, and her chin trembled as if she was on the verge of tears. “Is that why you asked about DC? You think I’ll somehow get him back if I stay here?”

She didn’t answer, just stared at you with tears in her eyes and you scoffed a laugh.

“Unbelievable,” you murmured and shrugged your shoulders. “No need to worry, he’s all yours.”

“It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, I—”

“You can have him.” You managed to grin at her. “I mean it, Tessa. I don’t give a fuck about him. Enjoy your weekly five minutes of missionary while he watches the stock market on his phone beside your pillow.”

 With that, you walked away from her, leaving her there dumbfounded.

                                           *

At this point, you were beginning to feel like this damn office had a hold on you with how you kept finding yourself in it, but you needed a place to hang out until you met with Caleb and Kelsey, so you figured you could do some more research on apartments in DC.

That wasn’t the surprising part. The surprising part was that when you walked in, Bucky’s office light was on and you could hear the shuffling coming from inside. You frowned and looked over your shoulder, then grabbed the nearest file and stepped closer to the office, holding the file over your head, ready to strike any potential burglars but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw Bucky in the office, staring at you like he could hear you coming from a mile away.

Which, he probably could.

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” you asked back and he motioned at the office.

“Looking for the goddamn toy. Why are you holding a file?”

“I thought you were a burglar,” you said, lowering the file and Bucky tilted his head.

“You were going to beat the burglar with the clean energy draft meeting minutes?”

“I’m not open to constructive criticism after the day I had, Bucky,” you said and tossed the file on the couch. “Did you find the toy yet?”

“No.”

You furrowed your brows. “Aren’t you supposed to be good at this? You used to be a super soldier spy.”

“A super soldier assassin,” he corrected you. “Finding toys was not my expertise.”

You heaved a sigh, then went over to his drawer to pull it open, making him shake his head.

“I already checked there.”

“And your desk?”

“Yeah.”

You put your hands on your hips to look around the room, then pointed at the couch. “Here?”

“I lifted it, it’s not under it.”

You made your way to the couch to pull at the cushions, then stuck your hand between and felt around before your hand touched something plastic. You curled your fingers around it, pulled it back, and held the small figurine up, grinning at Bucky.

“There we go.”

“Thank you,” he said and you tossed it to him for him to catch it mid-air. He put it into his pocket, then leaned back to his desk.

“You okay?” he asked. “What are you doing here again?”

“I’ll just use the wifi and feel sorry for myself until Caleb and Kels pick me up. So don’t let me keep you.”

“Feeling sorry for yourself?” he repeated. “What happened?”

I hid under your desk from your girlfriend, heard about your sex life, bribed your cat with wet food and then found out my ex was cheating on me. Did you really say my name in your sleep?

That was not a good conversation starter.

“Just a bad day,” you muttered. “But hey, see you later—”

“I’m not letting you feel sorry for yourself all by yourself,” Bucky cut you off and you arched a brow.

“Bucky.”

“No way.”

“Don’t you have stuff to do?”

“It can wait,” he said and you heaved a sigh, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Fine,” you said. “Wanna pregame and raid Paul’s secret stash?”

“Paul has a secret stash?”

You let out a laugh, then wiggled your brows and walked out of his office with him following you.

                                                    *

Paul was an asshole but even you had to admit, he had good taste in booze.

“Is that crack on the ceiling new, or did I just not look at the ceiling the whole time I worked here?” you mused, your eyes fixed on the ceiling as you laid on the floor and Bucky took a swig of whiskey from the bottle, then held it out for you.

“It’s not new.”

“Really?” You sat up and leaned your back to the leg of your desk before taking a sip as well. “Interesting.”

“Birdie.”

“Hm?”

“What happened?” he asked softly and you pouted your lips, then took another sip.

“Do you remember Max?”

Bucky pulled his brows together.

“Your ex whom you broke up with just a month ago?” he asked. “The name does ring a bell.”

“Did you know he’s an asshole?”

“Yeah I did, funnily enough.”

You dragged your tongue over your teeth. “Today I found out he was cheating on me.”

 Bucky frowned. “What?”

“Remember the perfume?” you asked. “The girl he was cheating on me with, I ran into her today, she wears that perfume. That motherfucker gifted me the same perfume so that I wouldn’t notice when he showed up smelling like her.”

He gawked at you and you nodded your head.

“I know, right?”

“He is capable of planning all that?”

“Max can be very clever when it comes to his self-interest,” you said. “I was in a relationship with him for seven years, I—”

“Seven years?” Bucky cut you off and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Yeah.”

“Seven years and no ring?” he asked as if he wanted to make sure and you tilted your head, a huff of laughter escaping you.

“Why hello, senior citizen from Greatest Generation,” you taunted him. “Things work a bit differently nowadays.”

“In my day, seven months was too much.”

“I once spent seven months trying to pick a sofa,” you replied. “That’s not gonna happen. And to repeat, different century.”

Bucky took the bottle to take a sip, then put it down.

“Wait, did you say you ran into the girl?”

“Mm hm,” you said. “And you know what’s weird? I’m not even angry at her, I feel sorry for her.”

“How’s that?”

“Max was—well, he was obviously my first actual serious relationship,” you said. “So now that I think about it, now that I’m not in it, I can see that a lot of things in that relationship were designed to make him feel good and not me. He even—” You let out a laugh. “Okay, I am about to spill a sex secret that will be very traumatizing for your generation, you ready?”

Bucky motioned for you to wait for a second, took another sip of whiskey and nodded at you.

“Yeah, go.”

“You thought I was weird for checking my emails right after sex, right?”

“That is very weird.”

“Listen to this; Max and I would only have sex for five minutes because that was the most he could stay away from work,” you said. “And during those five minutes, his phone would be right beside my pillow so that he could check his investments and see if something was up with work.”

He blinked a couple of times, staring at you.

“One time,” you said and sipped the whiskey. “One time, while his phone was charging, he started a chronometer on his smartwatch so that he could make sure it’d be five minutes—Bucky, you should see your face, you look more traumatized than I was and I actually lived it.”

“Tell me you’re joking,” he managed to say and you shook your head.

“Nope.”

“I can beat this guy up.”

“No.”

“Please let me beat this guy up.”

“No.”

“Birdie—”

“I don’t give a fuck about him, I just can’t believe he made me do all that and then went behind my back and did that. Like what, additional five minutes in a supply closet or something?”

“And you were in love with this prick for seven years?” he asked, dumbfounded, and you grimaced.

“Of course I wasn’t.”

That made his head shoot up and he stared at you in complete silence for a couple of seconds, then licked his lips.

“You told me…” he trailed off, a bitter smile twitching his mouth like he couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea. “You told me you were in love with him.”

“That, my friend, is called overcompensating,” you stated. “I figured if I convinced people, I could convince myself. Funny how it doesn’t work like that.”

He ran a hand over his face, his jaw tightening.

“We were though, at first,” you said. “But I mean, who knows? Maybe it never was good and he was a selfish cheating asshole and I didn’t see it. I don’t know.”

He dropped his head back with a soft thud against the desk, letting out an exasperated breath.

 “For God’s sake, Birdie.”

“And I am not even sad that I broke up with him, I’m just sad that—” You nibbled on your lip, then slid a little on the ground with a huff. “It was easier to ignore it when I was with Max.”

“Ignore what?” Bucky asked and you dug the heels of your palms on your eyes like it could help push back the tears, then dropped your hands.

“I have this voice in my head,” you rasped out. “All the time.”

Bucky’s gaze on you was almost too hot. “What does it say?”

“That…” It felt like you were swallowing coals. “That it’s too difficult. To love me. That—that no one will fall in love with me.”

 A stunned silence fell upon the office. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the confusion on Bucky’s face like he couldn’t tell whether you were serious or not, but realization dawned on him after a couple of seconds, making him exhale. You could still feel his piercing blue eyes on you, but you made yourself busy with peeling the label off the whiskey bottle, sniffling.

His voice was low when he spoke: “I’ve got bad news for that voice.”

You raised your brows, still busy with the label. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Someone will kill it one day.”

That made you huff out a laugh and you rubbed at your eye with the back of your hand before turning to see him watching you with a fond light in his gaze. You scrunched up your nose, then held out your pinky, coaxing a chuckle out of him before he reached out to hook his pinky with yours, a warmth spreading from your hand to your whole body.

“Someone will kill it like an assassin,” you said, determination laced in your tone as you stuck your nose in the air and he gave you a soft smile.

“Someone will kill it,” he repeated. “Like an assassin.”

It felt physically impossible to look away from his handsome face, and you could feel your heartbeat getting faster, but before you could say anything he frowned and turned his head like he—

“Birdie? You here?”

Of course Bucky had heard Caleb before you.

You slowly pulled your hand back and cleared your throat, trying to pull yourself together as you stood up.

“Paul’s office!”  

Caleb’s footsteps came closer before he peeked his head in.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes darting between you two as Bucky stood up as well. “Kels is outside. Bucky, are you joining us? We’re gonna do shots.”

Bucky shook his head.

“I’m gonna go home, but you guys have fun.” He stole a look at you. “And be safe please?”

“Always am,” you said with a small smile and followed Caleb out of the office, then both of you stepped outside to approach Kelsey.

“Did I interrupt something?” Caleb teased you, making Kelsey raise her brows.

“What’s going on?”

“She was drinking whiskey with Bucky in the office.”

Kelsey’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“Anything you’d like to share with the class, Birdie?”

“Oh, not much,” you said as you started walking with them rushing to catch up with you. “Today I found out I have been cheated on, that Hazel hates me and asked Bucky to fire me and that apparently, Bucky is perfect in bed. But hey, how was your day?”   

[bonediggercharleston]

Misrepresenting my point, I said cheating was easier than ever and more common, not that it was rare before AI . The easier you make something, the more common it becomes because difficulty is a barrier. In the case of getting others to do work for you, it requires material or social capital, which many won't have or know how to employ because they would have to admit academic inability to someone else. AI is how ever commonly advertised as a program that can do your work for you by its creators and has a lot of hype going around it, so it is easy to use and well-known. The computer follows your orders discretely and unquestioningly. It is a question of degree, not of existence.

2. True, I criticized your example but the example was obviously the center point of your argument and I used it to show why it is a flawed tool (following prompts creates blind spots, asking direct questions leads you to only using direct approaches which limits out of the box thinking, other tools produce equally good results without the externalities of AI). How many of those sources in the prompts were real? LLMs hallucinate sources all the time.

3. Scholar isn't really capable of being "infallible" or "fallible" as it is just giving you academic resources with the fitting keywords you entered, it is your job to suss out whether they are suitable for your research, which you say you do with the GPT results as well, so no difference to you. Offering other search terms is really helpful to explore other avenues, but that is done via regular algorithm not an overly expensive AI, and additionally you can quickly change the search terms tailored to your preferences. To get rid of answers you realize are not at all in the field you are looking for, you can add more specific key words and even exclude terms like programming by typing -programming in your example. No need to run high power consumption calculation centers for that little trick that google had for almost 25 years.

And yeah, some papers having similar names, but again, you can change keywords, and also, they are talking about the similar topic. That does not mean the content is the same. They will also contain sources which can lead you to more material. You assume they will all be the same, let's have a look at page 14

Looks like specific examinations on labor availability in specific regions, the effects on minor powers and case files of companies at the time. Seems like interesting results for a deep dive, but not the stuff you would want on the front page, which would have the larger overviews on the topic. So we can't say that google scholar does not give us diverse sources even within a single search, quite the opposite in fact.

You frankly do not know which technology will be the one to achieve a breakthrough, and pointing out previous breakthroughs is just extrapolating from hindsight. For every success there are many, many failures: Steam-powered cars and electric cars are over a hundred years old and they failed when they first appeared, so did wireless electricity, radium toothpaste, monorails, flying cars and blockchain technology.

Smartphones did not receive this backlash, they were recognized as really cool thing. Apple was the new cool because of the iPod after floundering in the 90s and the iPhone hit at the right time. It expanded our abilities as we were able to have a supercomputer and communication device in our pocket. Just because some people poo-poo'ed it then does not mean the criticism of AI atrophying mental capabilities nowadays is wrong. The brain needs to be used to stay sharp but GPTs , much like social media, actually counteract that.

Here is a real-life industry example: code-bases have gotten worse.

People have predicted this.

Experienced programmers have experienced this.

An LLM does not give you the ability to do something you couldn't do without google except write large amounts of text in very short time. So you lose the ability to write and plan essays, i.e. structure arguments. Say you had a structure in mind and told the AI to use it: It does wording for you, a thing that will also not improve because you don't practice it. Instead of your voice it will be the average voice of every single human on the planet. OPs argument is that she became a better thinker by challenging herself and that GPTs externalize thinking, so humans lose their ability to mentally grow. LLMs seem like a useful tool at first but I have not seen a single profitable use case, and the people who put a lot of money into it expect to see some money back in the end. How much will you pay chatGPT to give you ideas for essays instead of just looking on google or DDG? If you never practice brainstorming, you will become dependent on a computer to think for you. If you don't memorize many little facts, you will never make those connections out of the blue. Don't outsource the thinking out of your brain, even for brainstorming, research and structuring.

"what did students do before chatgpt?" well one time i forgot i had a history essay due at my 10am class the morning of so over the course of my 30 minute bus ride to school i awkwardly used by backpack as a desk, sped wrote the essay, and got an A on it.

six months later i re-read the essay prior to the final exam, went 'ohhhh yeah i remember this', got a question on that topic, and aced it.

point being that actually doing the work is how you learn the material and internalize it. ChatGPT can give you a short cut but it won't build you the the muscles.

[skierisa]

i would sell my soul for more 90s au hcs...

thanks for the soul, here are more headcanons!

Jay and Nya 100% do that thing where you call the radio station and request a song and dedicate for another.

Nya pierced her ears at home with Kai's help. Those got infected. But the multiple earrings looked pretty cool once they healed!!

Kai also pierced Zane's ear.

Skylor and Cole also pierced their own ears too but they knew what they were doing.

I have established that Kai also has a gig cutting others' hair from time to time (mostly when he needs money to go to a concert or such or just because someone needs a haircut and he offers himself to do so) but before he could start charging for this he had to practice, and when he couldn't practice on himself because his hair was too short, he'd bring in Nya. And she let him. Which led to her bob cut phase you see here

She really dislikes this phase but sometimes wish she could have it short again (but cut better as now Kai know's what he's doing and she can afford an actual hairstylist if he fucks it up again)

Cryptor and Echo love sneaking into movies.

Kai and Lloyd always forget to rewind movie tapes before giving it back to rental stores.

Nya can't keep a tamagochi alive for more than three days or so.

They do parking lot hang outs or just straight up hanging out inside a convenience store.

Jay and Kai are secretly fans of Spice Girls (Skylor and Nya know about this).

The boys do talk about making a band one day... (since Kai and Lloyd play guitar, Jy plays bass, Cole plays the drums and Zane plays the keyboard as a hobby).

Morro really wants to adopt a cat once he gets to live by his own (has a room in the college dorms and they dont accept cats there).

he also lives relatively close to Lloyd so they constantly hang out.

Arin is a regular at Comix Doom Store and has this admiration for Lloyd like in the show, but here is just 'cause Lloyd seems like the "cool teen".

So Arin has similar hobbies to Lloyd, trying to mimick him.

Same thing with Frak, but he looks up to Cole and Nya the most. He skateboards like her and tries engaging in the same music stuff Cole's into.

Kai has a CD he burned titled "Red Sky" which only has songs that remind him of Skylor (no one besides Lloyd knows about it and he only knows it because he saw it in Kai's CD player once and got the wordplay).

Lloyd, Nya and Jay have gone to the ER together many times because they both skate (i mean, Lloyd and Nya skateboard and Jay skates) and get hurt a lot while doing so.

Wyldfyre, Kai and Nya are distant cousins.

Skylor and Chad (from the Ninjago Movie) are siblings, and he looks up to Kai a little bit (kinda like Arin looks up to Lloyd).

Nya is in two different school clubs (swimming and robotics club respectively). She also engages in surfing a lot, too.

Pixal is also in her school's robotics club and also has IT and computer science classes (Zane does too but it's separate from high school and more of a special interest).

Every day of the departed/halloween, Zane and Pixal wear matching costumes (which are usually references to super old movies and literature, but it's mostly noir)

Cole has a gig at a gay club as a DJ. Most people don't know, and those who know, won't say anything (because it's the 90s and if you knew who was in a gay club it meant you were there too)

His favourite band is Korn.

Morro's major in college is

He surprisingly enjoys this course :)

I can see Pixal liking sci-fi in this AU.

Skylor has sketched those "K + S" on her school notebooks and cheesy stuff like that. She hides it at all costs.

oooookay i think it's getting pretty long and i realy need to go to bed so hope you like it!!

[captainfantasticalright]

The importance of Richmal Crompton that captivated Sir Terry Pratchett when first reading William The Antichrist- or as we know it today, Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch.

Sir Terry Pratchett was once told by a school teacher that he would never amount to anything. That was one of his childhood memories- rotten humanity limiting knowledge. But that wasn’t the only memory of course. Throughout his life, words and stories always kept him company and one of those emblematic authors whose words cut deep through the bleakness and that made an impact was Richmal Crompton. Better known for writing the “Just William” books.

An impact so strong that this was Sir Terry in 2014 dressed as William Brown from Richmal Crompton’s “Just William” for a series of portraits done for an exhibition inside The Story Museum.

An exhibition where 26 authors dressed up as their favorite literary characters and in STP’s words “why not”. Photography by Cambridge Jones.

Now, if you know anything about the origins of Good Omens, you’ll know that it had been previously named William the Antichrist- a draft/ file that was around 5282 words long in 1985, exploring a scenario in which Richmal Crompton's William Brown had somehow become the Antichrist. And that called STP’s attention so much that he even offered to buy it off.

Said draft, had it not been sent to Sir Terry and had he not loved it enough to save it in his computer, would have been lost forever since the original file was lost in a computer crash. Sir Terry auto-denominated himself “The Keeper of the Disk”.

My Tweet liked by Rhianna Pratchett: Forever grateful about the fact that Sir Terry loved the draft of William the Antichrist so much because of (inferably) his love for Just William, that, had he not saved the file in his computer when he first received it, Good Omens would have never happened (the original file had been lost in a computer crash).

The original draft had things like these: (my slides I made from owning William The Antichrist).

You can only imagine why he would have been so enthralled by it. This is what Sir Terry had to say when he wrote Good Omens afterwards:

"I seldom let Neil touch any of the bits involving Adam Young himself." (Locus Mag)

And: Initially, I did most of Adam and the Them and Neil did most of the Four Horsemen, and everything else kind of got done by whoever -- by the end, large sections were being done by a composite creature called Terryandneil, whoever was actually hitting the keys. By agreement, I am allowed to say that Agnes Nutter, her life and death, was completely and utterly mine. And Neil proudly claims responsibility for the maggots. Neil's had a major influence on the opening scenes, me on the ending. In the end, it was this book done by two guys, who shared the money equally and did it for fun and wouldn't do it again for a big clock."

"Yes, the maggot reversal was by me, with a gun to Neil's head (although he understood the reasons, it's just that he likes maggots). There couldn't be blood on Adam's hands, even blood spilled by third parties. No-one should die because he was alive." (Terry Pratchett: HisWorld)

It is obvious to see that the love for William Brown is what took him in and something he never let go throughout.

Even though they had to change the name from William to Adam, the Just William spirit was never far away. As you can guess, the Them are just The Outlaws from the Just William books- renamed and regendered.

Various Good Omens sentences are constructed in a way Richmal Crompton would have written them.

The sentence when Anathema tells Adam that she has lost the Book, and he tells her that he has written a book about a pirate who became a famous detective and it is 8 pages long... that's "a William sentence" or in this case an Adam one.

Sir Terry liked Richmal Crompton so much because she wrote stories that ended up reaching a major kids audience, but that at the end of the day, were stories written for adults. The vocabulary was advanced, the subjects were deep, and she never made you feel like a lost child nevertheless.

Here is a snippet of STP talking about her from that same Story Museum broadcast in BBC Radio 4:

Good Omens would have never been shaped into what it is today if STP had not taken those initial 5282 words and completely rewritten them into 10,000. Bringing the irony and humour that he learned through Crompton and that metamorphosed into something completely Pratchett.

If you would like to read more about the general origins, I compiled all of the info here. (Yes everything “underlined” is because it will lead you to the source).

[rosygaze]

busy woman

pairing: johnny storm x assistant!reader

summary: you’re way too busy at your new job to even remember to eat sometimes. but you could spare a minute or two to pretend not to like it when johnny would flirt with you. inspired by busy woman by sabrina carpenter!

word count: 3.9k+

note: help wanted part 2 is here! thank you for all the love on part 1 🫶🏻 i’ve been working on this for like three months and she’s finally here 🥹 i’m definitely planning more stuff for these two but i may need to see the movie before more parts come out lmao who knows! enjoy !!!

< prev part

“Excuse me. Sorry.” You weaved and dodged the hoard of busy employees rushing in different directions. With the looming deadline on the horizon, the facility resembled an ant colony more than an office. Each person had a single goal and that was to get that rocket up in space.

While you couldn’t solve a complicated equation or weld metal, you quickly learned that you were pretty good at being an assistant. You had already built a system and connections with other departments that made it easier for you to do your job. Sue seemed to like you, at least you hoped she did cause it’s only been a month and you realized that you really liked working here.

Currently, you were on your way to deliver the stack of folders in your arms. Across the floor, you spotted the long chalkboard filled with various symbols and numbers that you would probably never understand. Dr. Reed Richards stood at one end, a piece of chalk hovered over the board. You approached him.

“Dr. Richards?” He flinched a little as if you pulled him out of a number-induced trance. “Sorry to disturb you.”

“Ah, you didn’t. You saved me, actually. I needed a break. This equation’s been racking my brain for weeks now.” Dr. Richards crossed out a string of numbers and letters.

“It does look pretty tricky.”

“Tricky’s one way to describe it.” He rubbed his stubbled jaw while he stared at the board in thought.

“I don’t wanna keep you for too long. Sue wanted you to have these documents.” You handed him the stack of files. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly at the mention of his wife.

“Thank you.” He flipped through them and picked out a single folder. “Has she mentioned anything about tonight?” He glanced at you expectantly.

“She’s very excited for your date.” You grinned. Over the past few weeks, you’ve been a firsthand witness of Sue and Reed’s relationship. The sweet nothings they would mumble to each other when they thought you were out of earshot, the extra slip of paper slipped in between stacks of folders, the way they seemed drawn to each other in a crowd.

Definitely didn’t make you feel more single than you already were.

Nope.

“Great.” Dr. Richards smiled shyly. You tried to ignore how red his face had gotten. “You tell her I’ll be done in a few hours and that I promise to be on time.”

“I will.”

“You’re the best.” Dr. Richards turned back to his board and immediately started scribbling. You took that as your sign to go back to your desk. Again, you weaved and dodged the crowd to get back to your desk and get started on yet another task. You were listing down to-dos in your head when you spotted a man by your desk. You sighed and braced yourself for impact.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Jonathan Storm called out as he saw you approaching. He was leaning on the front of your desk. One leg crossed over the other, arms bracing his weight behind him. Big, handsome grin on his face.

“Johnny.” Your voice clipped as you walked around him. You started typing on your computer, trying to ignore him in hopes that he would leave you alone before he could see how flustered he had made you with two words and a smile.

“Busy?” He turned and put his forearms on the edge of your desk, eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

“Kinda.”

“Gunning for employee of the month?” Johnny picked up a pencil from your cup and started tapping it against the side of your monitor.

“Maybe.” You spared a glance at him. “Do you need anything from Sue?” You tried to divert the attention away from you.

“No, I don’t need anything from my dear sister today.” Johnny sighed and plopped down on the seat you kept in front of your desk for any visitors.

“Then what are you doing here?” You stopped your typing and you fully faced him.

“Wanted to see my favorite assistant.” He shrugged.

“I’m not your assistant.” You scoffed.

“No? Then I just wanted to see you.” A sly grin spread across his lips like the Cheshire cat. You blinked at him for a second, two. Allowing yourself to indulge in his attention until you remembered who he was, who you were, where you are.

You pulled your eyes away from his and looked down at your desk.

“Johnny… You can't say things like that to me.” You strained.

“Why not?” He asked you.

“Cause you work here.” You threw your hands up in exasperation. Could he really be this dense? “And I work here. For your sister, might I remind you.“

“What does that have to do with anything?"

“You can’t…you know.” You moved your hands in the air awkwardly.

“What?” He was goading you now, big brown eyes boring into yours.

“Flirt with me.” You said through your teeth.

“But I want to.”

“But you can’t.”

“You don’t want me to?”

“I-“

He had you cornered. Damn him.

“How about this? I’ll try my absolute best not to flirt with you.” You glared at him but he never wavered. He continued to blind you with that signature Storm smile. “And you can pretend not to like it. Deal?”

“Johnny.”

“Seems like a pretty sweet deal to me.” Johnny put his arms out as if to say ‘See?’. “Just as pretty as you are.” He added with a wink.

“Johnny!” You exclaimed. You couldn’t stop the flush that spread over your body even if you wanted to. Before you could tell him off again, you heard Sue’s voice calling you from inside her office. “This isn’t over.” You pointed a finger at him and narrowed your eyes.

“Oh, I hope not.” Johnny simply smirked and slid down on the chair as if he were lounging on the beach.

The keyboard clicked and clacked away as you typed out a report. The office had gotten quiet, people started leaving a couple of hours ago. Even Sue had passed by your desk and told you not to stay that late. You promised you wouldn’t. You just had a couple more things to do and you could call it a day.

But you thought about how you would save so much time tomorrow if you got a few more things done today. So here you were, neck aching and hands cramping, checking off yet another one of your to-dos.

You rolled your neck around to relieve some of the ache. You really needed to be more conscious of your posture.

“If you keep staying here this late, I think they’re gonna start charging you rent.” A voice echoed through your empty office, making you jump. Your relief turned into annoyance when you saw who it was.

“Johnny, you scared me!” You put a hand to your pounding chest.

“You’re working in a dark office all alone and you get scared by little old me?” Johnny dropped down in the seat in front of you again. “But, don’t you worry. Johnny’s here now and he’s gonna keep all the scary monsters away.”

“My hero.” You said dryly but a smile tugged on your lips. “Nothing better to do tonight?”

“Just keeping you company.” He shrugged. “And making sure you don’t stay here overnight. Do you realize how late it is? You shook your head and checked your watch.

“It’s already 10pm?” You gasped. The nearest window to you was a couple of desks away so you didn’t realize just how late it had gotten. You swore you weren’t working that long.

“Didn’t see the sun setting?”

“Not really.” You mumbled sheepishly.

“Did you leave this desk at all today?” Johnny raised a brow at you.

“Yeah, Sue had me pick up some reports from her earlier.” To which you took to your desk, sat down, and typed out reports for.

“And?”

You rattled your brain. “And… I used the ladies’ room a couple of times.”

Johnny made a ‘tsk’ sound and plopped a brown paper bag on your desk. “Eat up, busy bee.”

“What is this?”

“Food.” He reached inside and tossed something your way. You awkwardly caught it and saw that it was a burger wrapped in parchment paper. “I'm pretty sure you haven't had anything to eat the whole day.”

“How’d you know that?” You said, voice barely over a whisper. Your stomach grumbled as if it remembered what hunger was. Meanwhile, Johnny was already digging into his own burger.

“Well, I’ve been watching you for a couple of weeks now. I know you get so focused on your work that you skip meals.” He picked up a fry from the bag and popped it into his mouth. “And when I saw your car in the parking lot, I figured you'd be in here for another hour or so, so I went and picked up some burgers for us. Lo and behold, here you are. Glued to your desk.”

You were quiet for a second. Since you started here, Johnny had been pestering you. He was nice, of course but he had a knack for catching you at your busiest and talking your ear off. He annoyed you most days, made you smile on others.

Today. Today, he made you smile. Johnny noticed that you were working late and brought you food. You could cry but you weren’t sure if it was because you were touched or hungry.

“You've been watching me? Stalker.” You unwrapped your burger and took a bite. He rolled his eyes at you.

“That's all you got? No ‘I love you, Johnny! You saved me from starving to death!’?”

“Thank you, Johnny. You saved me from starving to death.” You continued to eat your burger and looked Johnny dead in the eye.

“I think you got that first part wrong.” Johnny lifted his brows, expectantly. He wanted to hear the words ‘I love you, Johnny’ come out of your mouth. Fat chance.

“Mm,” You moaned exaggeratedly around your burger, making Johnny shift in his seat. “This is so good. It wiped my memory. Who are you again?”

Johnny chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Go eat your burger.”

A-choo!

You sneezed into a wad of tissue that you’d crumpled into your hand. You wiped your nose and stuffed it into your skirt pocket. There was a bug going around and you did everything in your power to keep it away from you. You took your vitamins, overloaded yourself with fruits and vegetables, stayed far away from anyone who tried to clear their throat.

And yet. It got you.

You sniffled miserably and went back to taking notes on the engine test Sue asked for. It was hard to focus when you had a pounding headache and a round of coughs threatening to spill out. Shake it off.

“You feeling okay, hon?” A gruff voice asked. You turned and saw the kind, worried eyes of Benjamin Grimm.

“I’m fine, Ben.” Your voice was hoarse.

“That runny nose and wad of tissues sticking out of your pocket says otherwise.” He pointed a finger down.

“That’s nothing.” You shoved your hand in your pocket and pushed everything down.

“If you say so.” He nudged your arm with his elbow. “Take it easy at least.”

You smiled gratefully. Ben looked rough and mean on the outside, piercing blue eyes and a mouth of a sailor to match. You were pretty intimidated by him when you were first introduced but you quickly learned that he was just a big sweetheart once you got to know him.

The two of you continued your work. Ben was helping you make sense of all the technical jargon. After a couple of minutes of note taking, your vision started to get hazy and you wobbled on your heels.

“Okay, let’s take a break.” Ben stated. He gripped your arm and gently pulled you down to a nearby chair. You wanted to protest but he cut you off. “No, no. Sit down. I’ll get you some water.”

You tried to call out to him but that round of coughs you were suppressing finally made itself known. When you were done, you sunk down in your chair. I hate this. You thought. God, you missed the days when your nose wasn’t clogged.

“Hey, so I stayed in last night. Crazy, I know. Who am I?” You groaned. Johnny was gonna rip you a new one. You sat up and put on the most “I’m not sick!” expression you could muster, even slapped your cheeks a few times to get some color back in them. Johnny strolled up, carefree as always. “Anyways, I watched that movie you were talking about last week and- whoa, wait.” He stopped in front of you. Johnny scanned your face with an intense gaze.

“Hi, Johnny.” You said, sweetly, but he just narrowed his eyes at you.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned.

“Nothing’s wrong. How was the movie?” You tried to distract him.

“No, no, no. You look pale.” Johnny put one hand on the back of your chair and bent down to be closer to you. Your face was heating up. You were going to chalk that up to the fever you were probably developing…and not because of his face so close to yours. “Did you forget to eat again?”

“I had lunch.”

“She’s sick!” You looked over Johnny’s shoulder and saw Ben coming back with a glass of water in hand.

“Ben!” You groaned.

“Sick?” Johnny immediately grabbed your face with both hands. “You’re burning up, sweetheart.” Johnny’s voice was soft. His thumb brushed your cheek with a featherlight touch. You leaned into his palm for a fraction of a second. Blame it on your flu-ridden brain.

“Johnny, it’s okay.” You matched his tone.

“What the hell are you doing here? Go home.” He gave you an incredulous look. He took one of his hands away from your face and reached back for the glass of water from Ben. “Drink.”

You took big gulps. You didn’t realize how dehydrated you’d become. “I’m not going home.”

“I’m taking you home.” Johnny put his hands on your forearms and pulled you up gently but firmly.

“You don’t know where I live, Johnny. And I’m not leaving.” You shook your head which was a big mistake. You felt light-headed again and wobbled. Johnny gripped you even tighter while glaring at you.

“Sue!” Ugh. You heard your boss’ heels clack behind you. You turned your head much slower this time. “Your assistant has the plague and refuses to go home.”

“The plague?” Sue raised a brow.

“He’s being dramatic.” You corrected him. Sue put the back of her hand to your forehead and tsk-ed.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve given you the day off.” She crossed her arms.

“We have so much to do.” Your argument was getting weaker every time.

“It can wait til tomorrow. Today, all I want you to do is to rest until you feel better.” She pointed at you.

“But-“

“No buts.”

Fight’s over.

“Fine.” You conceded with a pout.

“I’ll drive her home.” Johnny put an arm around your shoulder and guided you to a walking pace.

“Feel better, hon!” Ben called out to you. You waved back to him.

“Did you like the movie though?” You asked Johnny.

“Loved it.”

The copy machine was slower than usual today and you were getting impatient. You had a pile of 30-page reports that needed 4 copies by tomorrow morning and you were only at number 3. It didn’t help that you picked the wrong pair of heels today and they were pinching your toes. Never, ever wear pointy heels at work.

You fed another piece of paper through the machine and put your weight against it while you tried to alleviate some of the pain on your feet. You rolled your ankles a few times on each side while grabbing the warm piece of paper and placed it with the rest of the copies. That was the last of copy 3. You pulled out the original pages and started the process one last time.

Sighing, you put the first page in. You looked around the office. It was pretty empty at this time, but there were a few stragglers that you knew would start packing up soon. The machine whirred while you took a headcount of who was still here. John, William, Shelley, Johnny….

Wait.

Your eyes snapped back to your desk where a certain blonde was in his usual seat. A smile tugged on your lips and you may or may not have started speeding up your copying. Once the final page shot out onto the tray, you gathered all of your papers and walked back to your desk.

Johnny was mindlessly fiddling with the pens you kept in a mug on your desk. He had his back to you so you would be able to surprise him for once.

“I think people are starting to notice that you spend more time at my desk than you do at yours.” You giggled when he flinched.

“Well, the view here is much better than mine.” He recovered quickly and shot you an easy smile. You shook your head, letting the flirty comment wash over you.

You pulled out the puncher and punched holes through the reports. You opened your box of paper fasteners and started to arrange your copies into their respective folders. Sparing a glance at Johnny, you saw that he was tapping a beat on your desk with a pensive expression on his face.

“Is everything alright?” You asked.

“Why wouldn't it be?” Johnny tried to keep it light but you heard the edge in his voice.

“You're just…” You dragged, trying to find the right words. “Quieter than usual.”

“‘s been a long day.” He let out a long breath. Johnny’s brows furrowed and the corner of his lips turned downwards.

“I heard you went out into the field today.” You fastened the last report into its folder and gave Johnny your full attention.

“Keeping tabs on me?” A ghost of a smirk graced his lips.

“Part of the job.” You shrugged. “Did something happen?”

“I’m grounded.” Johnny said after a beat.

“What?”

“I’m not allowed to fly for a month.” He stopped his drumming and placed his palm flat on the wood.

“Why would they do that?” Johnny was one of the most competent pilots in the program. It made no sense to suspend him like this.

“You know that the new jets came in this week, right?” You nodded to answer his question. “Well, they asked me to test those bad boys. See how fast they’d go. And that’s what I did.”

“That doesn’t explain why they’d ground you though.” You tilted your head in confusion.

“Well, they only wanted me to go up to a certain speed but I knew they could go faster. I could go faster.”

“Did you?”

Johnny smiled, the first genuine one of the day. “I did. Going that fast. Nothing better than that. You just feel so…free.”

“That sounds amazing.” You couldn’t help but smile with him.

“It was. Until I landed.”

“What did they do?”

“Insubordination. That’s what they called it. The jet was fine, by the way. It was built to go that fast. The admiral just has a stick up his ass. I let him know that too.” Johnny said through gritted teeth, hand curling into a tight fist. You could see a flush of red on his cheeks and his breaths getting shallower.

“How long ‘till you can fly again?” You wanted to reach out and touch his hand but you held yourself back.

“A month.” He scoffed.

“Okay.” You sighed in relief. “You’ll still be able to join the launch.”

“Ha, they can try to replace me.” Johnny jabbed a finger on his chest. “They won’t find someone else.”

“Oh, I know. The team wouldn’t let that happen.” You paused. “Neither would I.”

Johnny’s eyes crinkled. “Going soft on me now, sweetheart?”

“Just cause you’re all mopey today.” You teased. “I am sorry, Johnny.”

“Ah, it‘s not your fault.” He waved a hand at you. You frowned.

“But you’re upset and you’re my friend so still. I’m sorry.” You rambled.

“I’m your friend?” He asked, sounding way too happy about it.

“I think so. Do you think we are?” Your voice got quiet, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“I do.” Johnny nodded.

A warm, fuzzy feeling came over you. You didn't know when it happened, but Johnny had become a staple in your life. It was so easy to talk to him. You found yourself drawn to him in a crowd, saving seats for each other every time there was an office-wide meeting. Then of course, you found yourself here on most days. Sitting at your desk, talking about everything and nothing. Some days, Johnny would just sit there and wait for you to finish working. He’d talk your ear off but you realized it was just to get you to stop working and go home.

Johnny was a friend. And a pretty good one at that.

“Do you wanna go get something to eat? I think we both need to get out of this place.” You logged off your computer and shut it down.

“Asking me out?”

“As a friend.” You gave him a pointed look.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He played along, nodding sarcastically. “Unfortunately, I’ve got plans tonight so I’m gonna need a raincheck on that.” A part of you was disappointed but you brushed it off.

“That’s okay. Next time?” You slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Next time. But, thank you.” Johnny locked eyes with you. “For listening.”

“Any time.” You smiled at him. “Ready to go?”

“You go ahead. I forgot something in my locker.”

“Okay, I’ll see you Monday?”

“Drive safe.”

You navigated out of the building and pushed the doors open. Fresh air filled your lungs, something you often take for granted after being in a stuffy office all day. The parking lot was fairly empty. You could see your own car a few rows down and spotted Johnny’s fire red convertible parked close to the door.

What you didn’t expect to see was the woman leaning against it.

You recognized her. She worked here too but in a different department. She didn’t pay you mind when you walked past, too caught up with finding something in her bag. You looked away before she could catch you staring but your brain was going a hundred miles an hour.

Did she know Johnny? Of course, she knows Johnny. Everyone knows him. What was she doing by his car? And most importantly…

Why was this bothering you so much?

Eventually, you made it to your car and started the engine. As you were pulling out of the driveway, you caught a glimpse of Johnny coming out of the building. In the rearview mirror, you watched him walk up to the woman, kiss her cheek, and open the passenger door for her.

You pulled your eyes away and focused on the road ahead. An uncomfortable feeling settled in your gut. You felt a little nauseous but you ignored it, just like you ignored the green-eyed monster that was slowly making itself known.

Whatever.

You were too busy to have a crush on anyone, anyways.

Much less on someone like Jonathan Storm.

[deepdreamnights]

I wasn't expecting you to change your mind, but c'mon. You can at least admit you didn't know that Midjourney was user funded, or that these free and fremium services even existed, much less the open source decentralized versions, rather than pretend that a thumbs up/thumbs down for free credits is some form of onerous manipulation.

Because if that's the idea, then Its gotten so abstract as to be meaningless. It's on the level of 'a job in society is just slavery with extra steps'.

And none of that applies to your original post's statements. AI art doesn't only exist because megacorps foot the bill, it only exists because open source hobbyists did the heavy lifting. The implication that it will come tumbling down when the VC funding dries up doesn't take into account that it does, in fact, have a very robust customer base that enjoys using it.

The power plants aren't for AI on its own. They're for the massive datacenter expansions that were going to happen whether AI happened or not. Youtube alone requires a massive expansion of storage constantly. And you know what's going to happen with all the extra nuclear power that comes out of that project? It's going to be put into the grid, where it will take the place of power that would be produced by other methods. Maybe solar or wind, but more likely natural gas, oil, and coal.

Nuclear power is good, actually.

And if you're talking about the hidden extra costs, well, then you have to apply that to everything.

Gaming uses literally the same hardware as AI, but at a higher general rate. There are vastly more gamers than AI users. Is XBOX live on your chopping block?

Lets talk about photography. Digital photography still involves every photoshop post-production step, but while the energy use of the camera and computer might be minimal, what about the fuel to get to the shoots? The manufacturing costs of the specialized equipment? The lights? Lodging at shoots?

Second-per-second what takes more energy, an AI video clip or a day's shoot on location? Costuming, special effects creation and rendering time and computer resources, craft services, lighting again, transporting actors.

Go old school? Now you're dealing with all the industrial waste of the film process.

All the paper, paint, clay, marble, instruments and WACOM tablets and CGI render time, and all that time spent staring at a photoshop window, all of it has hidden costs.

Think of all the power and resources wasted on a megachurch service, and all the maintenance and power those giant auditorium buildings gobble up the six days of the week they stand empty? Or a baseball game. A WWE match. Developing a Switch game. Making a movie. Distributing a movie. Advertising a movie. Having a baby.

So solemnly nodding at the hidden costs seems a bit like 'my shit is stuff, your stuff is shit' to me.

You can't argue against a technology. No one has ever, ever, in the history of humanity, argued a technology out of existence. The closest we've come are nukes and human genetic engineering. Nukes exist and multiple countries have massive arsenals of them, but we've agreed not to use them because it would mean humanity's utter destruction. Human genetic engineering cuts right to the heart of a bunch of ethical questions about health, equality, identity, and so on, and also up until very recently genetic engineering has been a long and extremely expensive process. We'll see how long human genetic engineering remains taboo now that it's getting cheaper and easier. But these are absolute outliers. In the vast, vast majority of cases, I mean literally in virtually every single case, when people fight a new technology—for any reason—they loose.

There is no tenable "anti-AI art" position, just like there was never a tenable anti-loom position, or anti-railroad position, or anti-horseless carriage position. These things were doomed to fail absolutely from day one, as soon as the technology existed, and anti-AI art is doomed to fail just as utterly and completely. There is just no path here, if this is what you've hitched your wagon to I really do not know what to tell you.

[anditwasallyela]

Pit Madness. Except it's 100% made up by Jason in a theatrical I-have-to-fold-the-dishes type excuse. He thought he was obvious about it, I mean jumping into some green acid and going insane? That's practically Joker's backstory in a single sentence. But unfortunately his family did not get the memo.

It starts after a normal patrol on Saturday. He was busy taking down some weapon ring Black Mask organized. When, of course, Bruce (very rudely, at least to him) barges in.

Bruce, afterwards: Your recklessness has to be managed-

Jason:

Jason: T'was the voices that told me so.

Bruce:

Bruce, clearing his throat: I see.

It was a joke. But honestly? He was still kinda pissed. And Bruce was kinda dense. If you were to mess with Bruce, you do not have the privilege of backing out, once you're in, you just don't get out. Maybe one of his siblings will tell him something, but that's out of his jurisdiction

Bruce: So if I'm getting this right, you're telling me.. the pit made you insane?

Jason, totally not pirating off of Jokers backstory, nodding furiously: Uhuh. That's the gist.

A bit more toying around, and later that night, when Bruce gets back to the cave, a new term is added into the computer. "Pit Madness".

Obviously, the other kids find out pretty easily. And if Bruce is saying it in a really serious tone, and it's been put into the Batcomputer, then it must be true, right?

Dick: Agh- hey, why'd you shoot that guy, I was- cuts off, and stays silent.

Jason: What? He was-

Dick: No, it's fine. I understand if it's because you're hearing things or whatsoever. Y'know, I've gone through something similar before. Not to intrude or anything- Just try not to do that again, 'kay?

Jason:

Jason: O...kay?

Tim and Damian know in an instant. Tim because, he's Tim, and Damian because he's been with Ra's long enough to know what the Lazarus Pit actually does. Tim plays along, he thinks of it as a joke as well and wonders how long it'll take for anyone to notice. Damian doesn't care too much, but it is entertaining. Slightly.

Alfred knows, obviously. He's Alfred. Jason would never lie to Alfred. And no lies pass through Alfred.

Barbara and Steph are on the edge of knowing. Cass knows. She won't tell either. Duke's a bit new, so he isn't exactly sure what to believe + he still doesn't know how bad the shenanigans can get. (In this time period, at least. After a bit, he'll be as chaotic, if not worse than them)

Jason still thinks of it as a joke. If some of them come to believe it, then eh. Not his problem they're dense.

[abstractfrog]

Happy 1 year anniversary to Mr Sherlock Holmes! Here's a litttleee celebratory comic from me

[egophiliac]

hiii im sure you’ve answered this before but in regards to your twst x Pokémon, how do you choose which Pokémon go give to the cast?? really curious since your choices are unique :O

unique in a good way, I hope? 😅 (jk jk I haven't come across too many pokemon AUs, so I was going in without preconceptions, I guess!) I was sorta aiming somewhere between doing, like, a full AU with internal consistency and everything, and just picking entirely based on theme/character, so maybe that's why! basically I just set some arbitrary rules (no legendaries/no repeats/evo stages based on year) and then went on ~vibes~. a couple were also suggestions (thank you guys!) and last-minute decisions, so it was a bit of a delightful mess of ideas!

my one regret is that I should have given Riddle a Togedemaru after all. ...you know what, he can have one now, why not

[kurikorso]

oh shit look who it is!!

please click him for better quality

[avpdpossum]

current mental state

[divorcedfiddleford]

and you may say to yourself: "my god! what have i done?" and you may tell yourself: "this is not my beautiful wife!" and you may tell yourself: "this is not my beautiful house!" and you may ask yourself: "well, how did i get here?"

time isn't holding up, time isn't after us, time is a pony ride! (images described in alt text)

[lokilysolbitch]

disclaimer: no one read into how i capitalize some deities names and not others, it's not a disrespect thing, it just varies on our relationship✋they are okay with this. anyways

you know how sometimes humans will humanize something like a stuffed animal or a houseplant or a house or a computer.

like it turns from "you have to jiggle the handle", to "oh yeah lol this door is very stubborn. you have to gain her trust with this secret code or she won't let you in lol"

we give certain things autonomy and emotions and thought (i DONT think we as humans are the ones projecting thoughts onto deities, let me finish). we act like our favorite cooking utensil has an idea of comfort, but we don't think it is uncomfortable going through the dishwasher because we know it's idea of comfort is different from a humans because it's not a human.

like, my violin? that's my girl right there. she's literally alive, she told me/j. when she sounds good it's because it was a joint effort between the two of us. she chose to sound good that day, or she was in a good mood. sometimes i'm the one not sounding good or sometimes it's just not a good day for her. but she doesn't feel uncomfortable inside a dark case for hours (or. months. i mean who said that) because she doesn't work like a human. she'll just need to warm up when i bring her out again. emotions and thoughts and autonomy aren't just human traits.

the way i view objects having a consciousness is the same way i view deities.

like that's not a human guy with magic powers who controls the ocean to me, that is the ocean. but i also don't think the ocean is spirit-less and void of autonomy.

this helps me understand myths without moralizing deities. the ocean isn't evil for killing a random guy, that would be putting human morals on the ocean. the very nature of the ocean is both calm and violent. it's not something you can police and it won't follow your rules. you have to understand how to interact with the ocean as safely and wisely as possible. that's why hubris is so dangerous. it's not as simple as hubris=bad. it's ignoring that nature will act like nature, and it won't bend and change just because you want it to. a healthy fear of nature/of the divine is not actual anxiety, but to recognize that nature/the divine are not harmless little babies. you don't need to be scared of a hurricane, but respect that it is a hurricane and act accordingly. get inside, don't run out into it like it's a silly game (unless, and this also applies to the divine, you are very familiar with it and can spot when the winds turn from a rough form of play to deadly. you know like how midwesterners stand on their porch during tornadoes. they've been there long enough to know when it's getting real, and they understand the risk they're taking. they can fully understand and respect a tornado for what it is. not an evil merciless killer, but not nearly harmless either). (i also view the fear and amazement i have with deities the exact same as i have with aspects of nature. loki and fire can both bring chaos to LARGE areas, but can also warm a home. you can be playful with fire but like don't act like you can just boss it around with complete control without consequences. understand you work with nature. not on it.)

so my point is. they are concepts and Vibes In The Air but concepts are also alive. they don't work the exact same as humans. there's not a human in my violin making it the way it is. but there is a spirit (so basically animism).

nature and concepts can be teachers. they won't enable you, and they may not always be gentle. sometimes a wasp will teach you it stings by stinging you. other times it'll give you a warning. whether you interpret it as a message to you or just a wasp doing what wasps do is up to you.

and sometimes they show themselves to practitioners as images of humans or animals or things like that. (aphrodite showed up to me as fabric. for a while. like just a fold of really nice fabric. i like to pretend this is bc i am asexual and grayromantic lmao) sometimes they have preferences on physical items (loki likes welches fruit snacks over other ones i've had and shared with him). sometimes people will embody a deities vibe because the deity has been with them since the start or they spend a lot of time with that deity or any other reason. there are different deities who i see in myself. King Asmodeus doesn't appear to me like how my dad looks physically, but somehow he just Looks Like My Dad, who looks like me. and when i look in the mirror, bam that's Asmodeus. i feel like his energy is found in the way i hold my face i guess. it's uncanny

i also think nature/the divine are usually communicating, it's just that sometimes what they're saying is a simple "hi :)" or "i'm in this spot right now. now i'm over there" and other times it's "time to address your fear of the unknown". sometimes they communicate with nature directly, but sometimes it's through clairs, or dreams, or tarot. idk how it works. i just know the spirit of love and beauty knows how to throw cards. i guess there's just more to nature than what we see with our physical eyes, or what we can sense with out five senses basically

i haven't fully solidified how i view deities but this is what makes sense to me rn. theyre vibes in the air. they're nature. they're concepts. they're autonomous. they experience love and can show attention and they have preferences. they can be funny. they can laugh at a meme. they can get frustrated. they can lie. you can find aspects of the divine within yourself because you are also nature. there's bits of the ocean and love and strife and war and death and the hunt and plagues and sunlight in all of us. just varying levels at different times. understanding and loving the divine and understanding and loving ourselves is the same task with different starting paths.

tldr: animism but also applied to concepts along with everything else

Genuine question

How theistic are you guys really?

I’ll go first. I’d say I am extremely theistic. I not only consider deities, demons and spirits to be energies, cosmic constructs, symbols and archetypes, but also sentient consciousnesses that can have ideas and make actions. I believe they exist in a fundamentally different form and space than human beings and I think they manifest in they physical world through a multitude of ways, including through human beings. I believe they experience emotions and thoughts, though not in a human way. I think they have roles, purposes, and functions.

The thing is, I want to embody Lucifer. I want to not only make him proud in a symbolic sense but literally, I want to be a source of his influence in the world.

But I also want to know him intimately. Not just in affection but proximity. I want to know what exactly makes him, him. I want to know what he thinks of things, -because I believe that he thinks- that have nothing to do with him. I want to know what he thinks of me. And yes, I’d like to worship him, adore him, but more than that, I’d like to dissect and examine him. I don’t feel this way about any other deity, and so Lucifer is the only one I have ever known in this way. And perhaps he is the only one I ever will. I love him unlike any other God.

The interesting thing about the cultural clash that happens in spaces like Tumblr is the varying degrees of theism that people have. I know that some folks consider deities and their workings to be more metaphorical and symbolic than real and tangible. Which is totally okay and good.

But I get comments and asks constantly that seem to encompass both an accusation and a question.

“The spirits can’t and don’t love humans- how did you get so close to Lucifer? The Gods don’t have opinions on our mundane lives- how do you get him to respond to you so often? Demons do not get involved in human’s lives in an overt way- how do you keep receiving all these gifts and messages from him?”

I don’t know how exactly to explain that this paradox always perplexes me.

People are hyper cautious of going too far- of humanizing the spirits too much- of seeing signs where there are none. And I think that’s not necessarily a bad thing, I think it’s very important to be vigilant of your mental health and to remain skeptical.

but also - people do not approach or regard the spirits like people, or consciousnesses, like individuals with the capacity to feel, so they do not experience the Gods as intelligences that can think and feel. To the point where seeing others that do, do so, is disorienting and even upsetting.

This isn’t me trying to shame anyone’s type of theism. I’m not saying that people who are not totally theistic are any less valid as pagans, practitioners, and devotees. In fact I’d argue most traditional groups create a hard barrier between the spiritual and personal for good reason.

I don’t approach my relationship with Lucifer in any kind of even remotely traditional fashion because our relationship is very far from traditional. The things that he would feel compelled to do with me would very likely not be done to me by any other deity.

It’s just always interesting to have conversations like:

“How do you know Lucifer loves you?”

Oh, because I asked him and he told me.

“But Lucifer doesn’t love humans and he doesn’t talk to people, so how would he have told you that? and how could you know?”

… well

maybe Lucifer couldn’t tell you because you do not believe he has the ability. Maybe he couldn’t love you because you never considered such a thing to even be possible.

Idk. It’s strange. I called and called because I wanted an answer. I assume that’s why we all call. But then when an answer is actually received, it’s like we forget we were always engaging in a conversation with someone else, and we were the ones that picked up the phone and called in the first place.

To ask is to be sane, but to actually receive an answer? That’s what makes you crazy.

It always boils down to “I asked and he answered” and the round about questioning always boils down to one thing.

“He answered, but do you trust him? and do you trust in your ears and your eyes as well? and if so, why?”

Maybe that’s the one question that really has no answer. Or at least not one that isn’t circular.

I trust him because I trust myself. I trust myself because I trust him. and I trust I suppose, because I love. And I love perhaps because I recognize. I suppose I trust that he recognizes me too.

Other folks might not trust me, you all might not believe anything I say. I just hope he does. I trust that he does.

[thephoenixcave]

I collected all my Edgar x terra drawings from all years into one folder and looked at them side by side. Turns out I have been drawing the SAME THING over and over. Like a crazy person.

You guys

This isn’t even all of them

This isn’t even all the ones where Terra is an Esper, which is like a niche of a niche pairing

This is chaos