#it doesn't have to be done by the artisan

[themadcapmathematician]

UBI because everyone deserves to have their needs taken care of no matter their demographic or productivity but also UBI bc something no one tells you is almost everyone who doesn't have a full time paying job is simply working one or more full time unpaid jobs

Almost everyone you know who isn't employed, no matter how much society wants you to write them off as lazy or useless, is going to school, managing their health problems (read: practically studying to be a doctor without ever being afforded the luxury of a career), is a craftsman/artisan/musician/writer/etc., is a caretaker for a friend or family member, cares for pets, cares for house plants or a garden, is a homemaker, is a delivery driver, runs errands, volunteers their time to make the world a better place, works constantly to find a job, to fill out government forms and make phone calls, to go to appointments and show up to claim resources, to make sure them and their loved ones are fed, to make sure the bills are sent in on time and the trash is taken out...there's always something to be done for most everyone they just don't get paid for it, their work doesn't exist, they fill this role society would fall apart without or they or someone or something else would simply die without, but they aren't rewarded, they aren't given social power or mobility; society thrives off of their labor going unrecognized and uncompensated and they are left vulnerable to abuse and exploitation and poverty

[triassictriserratops]

Headcanon that for a while Katniss and Peeta both think they’re the super clingy one in the relationship. I could see the first time Peeta has to go to the Capitol for a checkup both of them thinking they’re really dependent on the other.

Doesn’t matter though when they reunite. They realize they’re equally clingy and just have good reunion sex

Okay, so firstly i have to say that I cannot BELIEVE that people are actually sending ME anonymous asks. ME. I feel so unbelievably special, omg. I totally feel like I don't bring much in terms of "creating" to the fandom so anyone wanting to come to ME for anything is just so... HEARTFEELINGS Also, Anon, you're absolutely and completely right. I'm not actually convinced you aren't secretly Suzanne Collins in my DMs. These two, even with years of therapy and healing, are always always going to be codependent as HELL. Peeta's trips to the Capitol early on, while Katniss is still legally confined, drive her absolutely INSANE. like, he'll have to go for checkups with Aurelius and also for adjustments to his prosthetic because he's still growing and it needs to be adjusted for his height. She very seriously considers trying to fit in his suitcase. He walks in on her trying to contort herself into it while Buttercup is eyeing her judgmentally. She spends the entire time bothering Haymitch and crying to him. He doesn't know how to deal with her being this openly emotional about it so he's just like

Peeta on the other hand really tries hard to focus on what needs done and puts on a brave face, but the SECOND he's on the train he's wondering if he could survive jumping off and running back to Katniss. Maybe if he tucks and rolls juuuuust right....? He keeps eyeing the emergency break. Once he gets to his hotel he's RUNNING for the phone in his room, but misses Katniss because she's busy crying to Haymitch while Haymitch tries to watch Plutarchs singing competition show. When they finally connect that night they just stay on the phone with each other to fall asleep. Peeta spends his time in the capitol waiting for his prosthetic checking out the shops and constantly buying things that remind him of Katniss or that he thinks she'll like. He stocks up on cans of Lamb Stew and baking chocolate to make her some hot chocolate. Even buys a fancy cheese from a local artisan fromager to make her extra special cheese buns. He also, secretly, takes the pearl that he snuck out of her nightstand to a jewler. He's having it inlaid into a necklace. When he FINALLY makes it back home, the bakery is closed for 2 days but he does manage to make one loaf of bread in that time...

[txttletale]

Hi! So, i'm going through Capital, great little obscure book sad that it never got any wide-reaching support (/s), have a couple questions so far though if you wouldn't mind giving some time to answer them:

What does Marx mean when he talks about 'unskilled labor' in relation to 'skilled labor'? Doesn't the vast majority of labor, even things like factory work, require training to do and especially to become good/efficient at? In the passage where he mentioned it he also mentions that (some, not all) unskilled labor, in sufficient quantities, can equal skilled labor but like. this doesn't really make any sense if its just, say, factory work vs idfk tailoring or something. So i'm a bit confused. Or is he talking about what i just mentioned where when you start out doing something you're unskilled but gradually become better at it as you do it more and more?

Who the hell is Ricardo?

factory work requires training to do, sure, but it's an order of magnitude less training than it took to learn to do those jobs before the introduction of the factories--on the level of, say, a few weeks (at absolute maximum) of training, done alongside actual work, before being fully able to work in a furniture factory, as opposed to the actual years of apprenticeship it historically took to become a carpenter. being unskilled doesn't mean that nobody can be good at a job, but it does mean, essentially, that you could grab any random person off the street and have them doing it within a week.

this distinction isn't there to be moralized about but to concretely analyze the different economic positions of these jobs--if your job is unskilled, you are going to be paid worse and have less secure employment, because you are easy to replace and the number of people looking to replace you are also competing against you to work for the lowest wages, driving your wages down. you're also paid less because the cost of reproducing your labour (the core determiner of the 'base price' of wages) is much lower. when an e.g. surgeon gets paid highly, their employer (whether the state or a capitalist) is essentially paying them more to retroactively pay for their extensive years of training.

this distinction is at its most clear when it comes to the concept of deskilling, which is crucial to marx's understanding of the industrial revolution -- with the introduction of machinery, years and years of learning how to do something by hand could be replaced with weeks of learning how to operate a machine. this deskilled huge sections of the economy and proletarianized the artisans and manufacturers who formerly did that work by making them dependent on the machines owned by factory workers. deskilling is the mechanism by which advancements in productive technology paradoxically make the jobs of those working in those fields more precarious and onerous even as the task itself becomes much easier, so it's pretty important to understand for an understanding of historical materialism.

david ricardo was a 19th century economist who advanced the ideas first laid forward by adam smith re: the labour theory of value and was the first to postulate (although without addressing the signficant political implications of this!) that real wages had an inverse relationship to real profits. marx draws heavily on his ideas but is also critical of them. capital is subtitled 'a critique of political economy' -- ricardo is a key figure in the field of political economy that he's critiquing.

[obsidiancreates]

Would a Body Swap Rise/2012 crossover be better with only The Boys being body swapped across dimensions, or would it be better if all characters were? Or just The Boys and Splinters?

Because on one hand, if it's just The Boys then I think 2012 Splinter would notice These Aren't My Sons' Souls right away and get things jumpstarted

On the other hand... it'd be really funny for 2012 Splinter to wake up short and round and Danny Devito Shaped while Rise Splints wakes up tall as shit

"HA-HA! I AM FINALLY TALLER THAN MY SONS AGAIN! LOOK AT ME, WOW RED YOU EXPERIENCE THIS ALWAYS?! HA-HA, YOU ARE SO TINY NOW!"

"My sons... please help me to reach the countertop. I have tried climbing onto a chair, yes. I could not make it up."

Anyway, 2012 Raph suddenly being the tallest would make him insufferable, and when he discovers this body has Mystic Powers to become even BIGGER he's just a menace. He does however keep hitting his head on everything and knocking stuff over because he's not used to such Width. Muscle memory shocks him when the body instinctually reacts with Hugs to his brothers having a bad time, and how it's clearly common because the body holds at just the right angle to none of the spikes or sharp edges of his shell jab his brother. It's kinda nice.

Meanwhile Rise Raph is trying to adjust to being a whole foot shorter and way less wide. He keeps reaching for things he should be able to grab easily and realizing he needs to lean way over to grab it. Leo keeps patting him on the head like he's a dog. he doesn't dislike it except for the smugness Leo does it with. Muscle Memory keeps affecting all of them and they first learn this when Raph by The Body's Instinct slaps one of them on the back of the head. He promptly bursts into tears about it.

Rise Donnie revels in being the tallest now and Is A Problem about it, but the tooth gap irritates him to no end, he can't stop running his tongue over it. He discovers tech is WAY harder to get in this universe as well and is horrified by how he must work with things like Manhole Covers and scraps, and even more horrified to find out how much Muscle Memory this body has in regards to navigating the military junkyard (not because he fees bad for 2012 but because this scrapyard isn't even that good but the muscle memory implies this is the best place to get tech here and it's all he has to work with and he hates it).

2012 Donnie is in candyland and fucking loves this giant lab with tech that The Kraang could only wish they had a d when he discovers the mystic tech powers? He passes out. He's probably having the best time of everyone (when they're not pressuring him to work faster on getting them back to their own bodies). He knows that since Memories have a physical makeup in brains they should technically be able to remember things these bodies have done and thought, but there's a spiritual block so they can't access any actual memories. He finds he stims a lot more in this body and actually rather enjoys it.

Rise Mikey is delighted by the muscle memory breakdancing he can get up to in the 2012 universe, yet horrified by the things this body seems to be used to eating. He almost eats a Trash Pizza Slice with ants on it, pauses, realizes, and throws up. He decides the best thing he can do for this Other Mikey is train the body how to cook well. Ice Cream Kitty knows it's not her Mikey so she's sad but she doesn't dislike Rise, she just misses her bestie. Rise is so relieved by the never-ending chains on the nunchucks, though definitely confused how they never end since this universe doesn't seem to have Mystic Powers.

2012 Mikey thinks the art on his shell is awesome and loves that he finds a closet with turtlenecks and art stuff. He steps into the kitchen one day and by sheer muscle memory cooks an artisanal meal and everyone is blown away. He thinks he got the best body out of everyone and he has fire powers now! Which is concerning to everyone and he does set things on fire regularly. Good thing the Donnie Body here seems to be prepped for that because the first time it happens The Battle Shell opens up and puts out the fire, which causes a new panic because DONNIE YOUR SHELL WHAT HAPPENED WHY IS IT METAL- oh good it's a covering AHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHY'S YOUR SHELL SOFT AHHHHHHHHHHH

Rise Leo doesn't like 2012's body one bit, especially the larger feet. He also hates not being able to teleport. And his muscle memory has him Naruto Running across buildings. He's having a bad time, he hates this. Space Heroes is cool though he likes Space Heroes. He's trying to get Donnie to figure out how to bring the show back to their dimension. He's also so surprised by how Meditation is one of the body's first instincts when in the dojo, and by how many super formal moves it knows. He does enjoy getting to brag about it and pretending to be Old and Wise to his brothers while running through the motions of these katas he doesn't even know the names of.

2012 Leo is just. So confused. He keeps posing. He keeps lounging. He sleeps in way more. This body walks with a more casual gait. Fascinating. And a little weird and uncomfortable and scary. He's trying to enjoy it but he's not sure how he feel about it. He loves the portals/teleportation, though when he discovers one of the main ways this body uses them is throwing one katana to teleport to it he knows he must keep this fact from Raph as long as possible because Raph has never let him live down the "A ninja never throws their weapon!" thing.

Anyway I don't think I'd swap April, Casey (who'd be swapped with Cassandra and not Casey Jr), or the villains because someone needs to notice The Boys are acting unlike themselves, and if The Splinters are swapped too that doesn't leave a ton of options. If I did, though, we all know 2012 Casey said he kinda enjoyed being a girl, so he'd be pretty happy with his situation, especially since with the muscle memory he's also a ninja now.

[darksaiyangoku]

RWBY Winter Tales

Ghostly Winds

For @chaoslordjoe

Jaune and Yang smiled as they watched Tristan and Lionel shape their snowmen. While most children would make simple snowpeople with sticks for arms, stones for eyes and a carrot nose, Tristan and Lionel decided to go all out and make snow sculptures. Tristan's was a knight wielding a sword in both hands, while Lionel's was a puppy with a bone in its mouth. Jaune chuckled as he picked up the younger of the two.

Jaune: Seems like we have ourselves two artisans in the making.

Lionel: *chuckles* You know it! I already have a name for this dog right here.

Jaune: Oh? What is it?

Lionel: Gelert! Just like in the story of the Loyal Dog.

Jaune: Awwww, that's really sweet! I'm sure Gelert would appreciate the tribute.

Yang: What about you, little man? Who's this handsome fellow supposed to be?

Tristan: That's me. Some day, I wanna be a great knight! Just like the ones in Vale!

Yang: *nods head* Very nice! Saving kingdoms, swinging swords and riding off in stylish armour.

Tristan: You know it! But if that doesn't work, I can always be like you and Jaune. A Witcher for hire.

Yang: ...you want to be a Witcher?

Tristan: Eh, maybe. But only if I can't be a knight.

Yang: I see... oh... *frowns*

Tristan: Hm? Are you okay?

Yang: ...you know, I think it's about time you went off to bed! *smiles nervously*

Lionel: Aw what?

Tristan: But it's not even dark yet.

Jaune: Boys, listen to your mother. Night falls faster in winter. Come on now, scoot.

Jaune and Yang hurried back inside and tucked in their children to bed. In the living room, Yang cast Igni on the candles and warmed her hands. She had a saddened look on her face.

Jaune: *places blanket over her* Is everything alright? You seem tense.

Yang: *sighs* Of course I'm tense. Tristan wants to be a Witcher.

Jaune: *raises eyebrow* That's what got you worried? Come on, he's a kid. They're always saying silly things like that.

Yang: But what if he's serious about this? Ever since we took him in after his father died, he's always looked up to us. He sees as heroes, even after some of the terrible things we've done.

Jaune: Isn't that a good thing? He doesn't see us as monsters.

Yang: I know, but our life as Witchers isn't what I want for him. It's filled with pain, blood, hatred. *carresses his cheek* We're a family now and I don't want him to face the kind of dangers we did.

Jaune: *holds Yang* He won't, don't worry. Look, I know you love him, Lionel too, but I think you're letting this get to your head a little. Kids change their mind all the time. Remember when Lionel was adamant about hating turnips. One bite of your roast changed that and now he begs for more every day.

Yang: *chuckles* Yeah, you're probably right. I guess I just didn't realise how hard being a mom would be. *turns to Jaune and kisses him* Thank you, sweetheart.

Jaune: Always. Now can I get some of that blanket? It's freezing.

Yang: *laughs and opens the blanket* Get in here.

Jaune sat on Yang's lap as she draped the blanket over both of them. Outside, the snow started fall heavier and the wind picked up. The sound of hooves thundered the ground as a group of knights in jet black armour raced across the landscape. They screeched and howled, their eyes glowing red as hot flames. Any who came into contact with them would never see their old life, their souls now belonging to the riders. Many nations and kingdoms across Remnant feared them, for they were wraiths that brought the omen of war. They were the Wild Hunt... and they were sending a message.

[matchingbatbites]

sit and stay (like the good dogs do)

Explicit | 3.2k | Read on Ao3

This is my very belated birthday gift for @steves-strapcollection that I'm finally getting around to posting! Gerry, you're such a delight and I'm eternally grateful for your patience! <3

CW: Dom bottom transmasc Steve, sub top werewolf Eddie, muzzle kink, 'puppy' as a term of affection; full warnings over on Ao3

The mug of coffee is warm in Steve's hands, helping to ward off the crisp chill of the morning as he sits on the patio steps and waits for Eddie to get back from his run. The sun hasn't even risen yet, the sky around is still mostly dark aside from the gentle light of the slowly-setting full moon. 

Eddie should be back any minute now; he always comes back before dawn, always manages to find his way home before the first rays of sunlight pierce through the trees and wake the world. Steve doesn’t mind these early mornings, has found comfort in seeing Eddie off the night before as the moon rises, and enjoys waking in time to welcome him home, to help him wind down in the aftermath.

Branches snapping nearby alert Steve to Eddie's presence just as he comes stumbling through the tree line, and the human can tell even from this distance that he's still buzzing with residual energy. It happens sometimes, where the need to run and hunt doesn't get fully expelled during Eddie's full moon outings. Steve has come to love those days, where he can take those excess instincts and spin them into something they can both enjoy.

His boyfriend is still pretty wolfed out, caught somewhere between canine and human as the moon continues to linger above them, and Steve sets his cup on the ground to stand as Eddie approaches. He lifts his hands and smiles when Eddie pushes his face into them, the elongated snout definitely on the more dog side of the transformation as it snuffles into Steve's palms affectionately.

The cold nose can’t quite reach skin thanks to the muzzle strapped around his face, keeping sharp teeth away from anywhere they shouldn’t be, but if the lycan is upset by the lack of contact, he doesn’t show it.

"Hi, puppy love. Have a good run?"

Eddie gives a bright bark, and Steve can hear the swishing of his tail behind him as he presses closer to Steve’s hands. The human chuckles softly and slips his fingers through the metal grate of the muzzle, giving it a gentle wiggle to test the hold it has on his boyfriend’s face.

The gear had been Steve's idea. When they'd started talking about bringing Eddie's more monstrous side into the bedroom, the older boy had been more worried about hurting Steve than anything else - something to be expected from Steve’s absolute sweetheart of a lover. He knows from experience that a single bite is all it would take to change Steve's life, to take him from human into something other, and while Steve's isn't one hundred percent against the idea, he knows that turning him in the heat of the moment - without explicit consent - is Eddie’s deepest fear. 

So Steve had suggested a muzzle. Something to keep his teeth away from Steve's skin, to eliminate the possibility of something happening. He’d been surprised when Eddie hadn't just agreed, he'd seemed almost excited by the idea. 

They'd had it custom made, taken the measurements and sent them in to the artisan, and when all was said and done they had a solid, beautifully crafted muzzle. The strap is a buttery, brown leather that wraps around Eddie’s head to buckle in the back, and his snout sits perfectly in the cage of it, leaving him just enough room to breathe and bark freely. 

It's become part of their monthly ritual. Steve puts the muzzle on Eddie before he leaves for the night, and if he wants to play when he gets back, he has to leave it on all night, has to show Steve that he can be good and listen. And god, isn’t that a fucking thought? 

The fact that Eddie could kill him, could tear him apart with claws and teeth and leave him strewn about in pieces, but doesn’t? The fact that he instead bows his head to Steve and allows himself to be muzzled like some common mutt? That he would probably roll over and beg if Steve asked him to, Jesus, it’s a fucking headrush every single time.

(It isn’t all about their game though, if Steve is being honest. He knows that Eddie is good at controlling his urges, but some full moons are rougher than others, and the reassurance that Eddie isn't out there somewhere hurting someone makes it easier to sleep while his boyfriend is gone.)

“I’m happy to see you kept your muzzle on, Eddie. That’s my good boy, making sure you didn’t hurt anyone and coming back safe to me.”

Eddie huffs and pushes past the hands to burrow his face into Steve's neck, breathing in the scent of him before letting out a low, pleased rumble. Steve winces slightly as the metal cage digs into his skin, but smiles and slides his hands up to scratch at the base of Eddie’s ears, loving the thick shag of fur he grows when he’s like this. They stand there for just a moment before Eddie is grabbing Steve’s waist and rocking forward, and- 

Oh, hello. 

Something hot and heavy ruts against his lower stomach, and Steve doesn’t have to look down to know that Eddie’s hard.

“Oh, baby. Are you still excited from your night out?”

The lycan whines softly and Steve feels a bit of wetness on his neck where Eddie licks the muzzle cage, trying to taste Steve’s skin and barely succeeding. He can just make out the rough “Steve, mate,” that Eddie manages to get out - an accomplishment, since this form isn’t really made for talking - and offers a gentle coo in response.

“I know, puppy. You wanna fuck me, yeah? Wanna get out the last of your energy so you can sleep?” Another low whine and Steve presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s furred head. “Alright, let's get upstairs, to the den.”

A gentle tug helps Steve lead Eddie inside and upstairs to their bed, their den, so they can work off the rest of Eddie's energy. The older boy doesn’t always want this; sometimes he returns home already closer to human, lets Steve free him from the muzzle before they tumble into bed and go to sleep almost instantly. Those times are still nice, and Steve will lay awake as Eddie changes back with the sunrise, will feel the slow shift of muscle and bone under skin until he falls back asleep. 

It feels almost selfish to say that he prefers these mornings. 

Steve peels off his clothes once they reach the room - he’s learned his lesson about Eddie and the claws he has in this form - and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. His boyfriend is watching so patiently from where he stands by the door, waiting for Steve to call him over like the good boy he is, even more eager to please when he’s like this.

“Come here, puppy love,” Steve says and holds out his hands, grinning when he sees Eddie's tail wag briefly as he scrambles over to join him. He places one hand on Eddie's furry hip, tugging him even closer as his other hand moves to palm Eddie's cock without preamble. It's so fucking big like this, in both length and girth, and Steve loves it every single time. He loves the extra stretch it gives him, how fucking heavy it feels in his hands, in his mouth.

He looks up at Eddie through his lashes as he strokes his cock, his grip tight but slow as he moves from the base to the head over and over, practically milking the precum from him. It dribbles over his hand, slicking the way as he speeds up a bit, as he digs his thumb under the crown and earns a low groan from his boyfriend. Eddie is already panting in the muzzle, his clawed fingers twitch at his sides with the urge to touch, to grab, but they make no move to actually do so.

God, Steve is never going to get over how well behaved his puppy is, how well trained. He leans forward to lick over the head of his dick, getting a taste of the salt and musk before taking it into his mouth, slowly sinking onto it as his hand tightens around the rest. 

Eddie’s low grunts and groans are encouraging as Steve takes in as much as he can - nowhere near what he can usually fit in his mouth - and the heft of it has him moaning low. It’s always harder to blow Eddie like this, his mouth stretches wide around hot skin and he can’t really suck on it, only bob his head in the imitation of a face fucking.

It’s still so, so good, and when he moans Eddie’s hips jerk, sending his dick practically into Steve’s throat. The human takes it, his eyes roll back a bit as he pushes in, choking himself on it for a moment just to hear Eddie whine and whimper from how it feels.

The lycan gives a soft yelp, a wordless warning that has Steve pulling away with a gasp and a final, sloppy kiss to the wet head. “Shit, baby. Fucking love your fat cock. Want you to fuck me with it, stuff me full, yeah?”

Eddie whines again, soft and needy, and Steve grins. He turns over onto his hands and knees, and reaches back to grab the base of the plug he'd put in earlier. 

As much as he wants Eddie's literal monster cock in his pussy, the couple of times they've tried had just been more painful than pleasurable. They've dipped into some ass play before - with Eddie more than Steve, but still, same process - and when they’d tried it that first time with Eddie splitting Steve’s ass open on his cock, that had been their golden fucking ticket. 

It’s all part of his full moon morning routine now. Steve wakes up earlier than usual so he has enough time to stretch himself open on his fingers before putting in their biggest plug, letting himself adjust slowly so he can be ready for this moment.

Large hands grab his hips and tug, and Steve huffs a laugh, dropping the toy before reaching over to the nightstand for the lube. “Hold on, baby, need to add more lube first. Gotta make sure I'm ready for you, yeah?”

Eddie just growls and ruts against Steve's ass, sliding his burning, searing hot dick along the crack and pushing Steve forward with the momentum of it. Now, normally Steve loves the enthusiasm, loves how eager Eddie gets for him, but he literally just told Eddie to wait, and the older boy knows how Steve hates to be disobeyed. 

Steve holds the lube in one hand and twists his upper half so he can reach back to grab the cage of Eddie's muzzle and pull, bringing Eddie's face closer to his own. 

“What did I just say?” he asks, words clipped and firm, and the lycan whines at the tone. “Only good boys get to fuck their mates, Eddie, and you're not being the best boy right now.”

The words seem to hit home with Eddie’s canine instincts, and his ears drop in supplication as he gives a low whimper. The sound tugs on Steve’s heartstrings, and he knows that Eddie isn't trying to be bad. He can’t help the way his instincts get the better of him sometimes, how easily they can slip out of his control, so Steve decides to let it slide.

“It's okay, puppy. You're just that eager for me, yeah?” Eddie's tongue shoots out of his mouth and licks over Steve's fingers where they're hooked in the metal cage, a silent apology. ”I know. You can make it up to me later, baby.” Steve releases the muzzle and moves the hand up to scratch over Eddie's cheek briefly, a silent reassurance before he turns back to the task at hand.

He uncaps the lube and moves the whole bottle to his ass, lines up the hole with his own and squeezes a healthy amount of the artificial slick directly inside of himself - the messier the better, they've found. It's ice cold compared to the heat of his insides, and he shoves three fingers in after it, trying to simultaneously spread it around and warm it up. Eddie's hands twitch where they still hold onto Steve's hips, but he otherwise does nothing, and the human grins. 

“Wish you could eat me out, baby,” he teases, pushing his fingers as deep as they’ll go. “Love the way your fucking tongue feels when you're like this, so long and rough. Wanna feel it in my cunt, licking me so deep.”

The lycan whines and his claws dig into Steve’s skin, not quite breaking the surface but so close to it. The hint of pain makes Steve shudder and jerk, and yeah, that’s enough prep. His fingers are covered in lube when he pulls them out and he barely gets out an “Okay, Eds, come on,” before Eddie is tugging him closer to the edge of the bed. 

Steve drops his chest and shoulders to the bed, presenting himself as Eddie lines up, and then - oh god, oh fuck. The first thrust is delicious, the initial stretch always so fucking good as Eddie bullies his way inside, forcing Steve’s body to adjust to the size of him. It always leaves Steve a bit lightheaded, a little cockdrunk right from the get go.

”Oh shit, baby, so fucking big. Feels so good.” 

Eddie growls, something low and possessive, and barely gives his mate a moment to adjust before he’s pulling out and fucking back into him. The lube makes the glide slick and easy, and the amount of precum leaking from Eddie only adds to it. Steve can feel the excess fluid seeping out of him with every thrust, especially once Eddie really gets going.

It’s so easy to forget what this feels like when you only experience it once a month, so easy to forget how Eddie’s fat cock fills his ass so perfectly, how he rubs against every single pleasure point inside and makes him see stars. Steve is so greedy, though. Always wants more, wants to be completely full, stuffed to the fucking brim until he can’t even move.

Normally he would reach for Eddie’s hand, would shove those nimble guitarist fingers in whatever hole was free, trying to get that full feeling. That’s not a possibility right now, and instead Steve reaches his own hand down between his legs to where he's absolutely dripping, knows that he's probably ruining the bedsheets with how he's leaking onto them. 

He shoves two fingers inside his pussy and he's so fucking turned on that they barely even register, the stretch almost nonexistent compared to the one in his ass. A gasp catches in his throat as he pushes another in alongside the others, needing more more more. It’s so fucking good as he fucks into himself, trying to match the motion with Eddie’s snapping thrusts, and it’s enough to send him careening towards his finish.

“Fuck, Eddie, baby, 'm gonna come!”

It's a quick build up to Steve's first orgasm, Eddie’s cock and his own fingers shoving him higher and higher until he just tips over and crashes into it with a gasping, shaky moan. Eddie fucks him through it and Steve grinds his palm against his dick, barely recovered from the high yet already chasing another. 

Steve can feel himself babbling as he bullies a fourth finger into his pussy, the way easy now with how wet he is. He feels Eddie drop forward, his massive form draping over his back as he fucks into him hard and fast. Clawed hands move from Steve’s hips to his waist, and Steve moans as he’s effectively held in place and used by the hulking figure above him.

Eddie growls, his teeth snap in the muzzle as he pushes the cage of it into Steve's shoulder. The metal digging into him is a cool contrast to the heat radiating from the lycan, and it makes his head spin, the pinch of it only adding to his pleasure. There’s another growl that’s closer to a snarl as Eddie’s thrusts switch to something short and deep, practically rutting into him. Steve can feel the growing knot rubbing against the rim of his ass and he shudders, knowing how close Eddie is to coming and he fucking needs it.

“That’s it, baby, give it to me, make me yours. Want you to stuff me full of your cum until I can fucking taste it, until everyone knows who I belong to.”

Claws finally break the skin of Steve’s waist as Eddie’s motions get rough, and there’s a low, rumbling “Mine,” as he shoves his knot past the ring of muscle. It sends the human flying into another orgasm, has tears streaming down his face as he shakes apart on Eddie’s knot stretching him so, so good. 

Steve hears himself muttering a soft stream of “Please please please please,” as Eddie digs his hips in, grinding his knot deeper and deeper, and Steve can tell when he comes, can feel the hot rush of fluid filling him, stretching him even further. It feels like it goes on forever, Eddie’s hips jerking and rutting into him as he keeps coming, and Steve is twitching from overstimulation when Eddie finally goes still with a soft whine. 

His hand is soaked all the way to his wrist when he pulls it from his cunt, and he groans as he collapses onto the bed, Eddie following him down to keep the knot from pulling at his rim. A bit of wetness hits his skin as Eddie tries to lick Steve through the muzzle, and he brings his clean hand up to pat the metal cage. 

"I'm okay, baby. Just- Don’t move yet, okay?”

Eddie rumbles low in response and relaxes a bit, settling some of his weight onto Steve and pressing them into the bedding as they both come down, and Steve has just enough awareness to reach back and undo the buckle on the muzzle. The lycan shakes his head, flinging it off to land somewhere in the room, and then he’s licking Steve properly, soaking his neck and shoulder for a reason Steve can’t comprehend, but he just lets it happen.

He can feel when the knot goes down, and shudders at the cum that floods from him, soaking both Steve and the bed beneath them. It’s not something to worry about right now, though, not when Eddie is purring happily into his ear, seemingly content. 

Steve must doze off at some point, because he’s woken up by the sound of bones cracking and Eddie groaning, the sun just peeking through the window triggering his shift back. He’s only seen it once, only needed to see it once, and now he just waits for it to be over, waits as Eddie shrinks down again, as the fur sloughs away and disintegrates into nothing, leaving him smooth and human once more.

A messy kiss finds Steve’s jaw, and he hums as he leans into it. “Morning, baby,” he mutters, chuckling when he gets a soft grunt in response. “Sleep now?”

“Mhm, sleep now.”

Arms wrap around Steve, pulling him back into Eddie’s chest, neither worried about the mess spreading between them. Steve sighs as Eddie's breathing evens out almost immediately, and yeah, sleep now. Everything else can wait.

[pinkiepiebones]

may i ask for all the Renfield details from the Fangoria article you mentioned

Sorry for replying late, I think you sent this just as I was going to sleep

FANGORIA TIDBITS!!!!

-They did multiple takes and variations of scenes. Director Chris McKay said every take with Cage was "so fucking watchable" and that having those dozens of takes to choose from was "the hardest thing about cutting* the movie" (*I think that means editing)

-Hoult once told Cage, between takes, that he had been trying to do the Dwight Frye laugh in the scene they were filming, and on the next take Cage "suddenly threw that laugh back at me and started mocking me with it."

-In one version of the apartment confrontation scene, Cage's Dracula uses the eyeball garnishing his bloody martini like a little puppet, "talking to it before slurping it up."

-This quote from the director: "Much like Lego Batman, where I posited that our Batman is every version of Batman, I wanted to put Cage in the Frank Langella movie and the Christopher Lee movies and everything else. If I'd had the money and time, there would've been a snippet of him in every decade there was a Dracula movie." (fwiw the budget of Renfield was reportedly around $65mil and they shot and edited it in less than a year's time)

-Cage is only the seventh actor to play Dracula for Universal studios. More men have walked on the Moon. Said Cage: "I'm proud to be a member of that club."

-Cage said his Dracula was primarily inspired in part by his father - "My dad was someone who wanted to speak with distinction. He didn't have a full-on British accent but he did have a mid-Atlantic accent because he was a professor... Dracula's an articulate, elegant and eloquent character, and my dad had all those elements" - and Ann Bancroft's character Mrs. Robinson from the movie The Graduate - "The way she was abusing Dustin Hoffman's character, and the fact that she was an alcoholic... All that, to me, worked, because this take on Dracula is really about his relationship with Renfield, a toxic relationship. And it's this master/servant crap that so many people deal with, whether it's at work or an unfortunate romantic relationship..."

-Hoult worked with Cage before- he played Cage's son in 2005's The Weather Man

-Costume designer Lisa Lovaas on working with Cage again: "I knew from my experience (on Superman Lives) that Nic was totally game. I could present him with an elaborate Dracula, and he would be 100% on board. He walked out of the fitting saying 'This is it, we've done it.'"

-Dracula has monogrammed Dolce & Gabbana shoes

-The writer of the article doesn't say much more about the costuming but wrote "Dracula shares a shirtmaker with Frank Sinatra, I'm told," and I'm not entirely sure what that means?

-Director McKay on the blood in the movie: "I wanted the blood to be a certain colour of red, more like the Tom Savini Dawn of the Dead blood."

-SFX designer Christien Tinsley studied up on corpses to get Dracula's varying skintones right. "Is Dracula just pale, or does he have an undertone of colour? Is that colour more sallow and corpse-like, or is it more blue and cool tones? ... Hundreds of years ago, hospitals and morgues would bring in artisans to recreate the corpse in wax as it was being dissected. And they would do this in beautiful colours, yellows and blues, copying what they were seeing, but giving them these beautiful colour palettes..." Tinsley used those corpse palettes as the basis for Dracula's skin.

-Tinsely also had a tough makeup challenge with Hoult's Renfield: "He's not seeing much daylight, not really taking care of himself. However, 100 years ago he was a respectable lawyer... So we scrapped the idea of making him look unkempt; he has traditions. But now his skin is the same cool tones as Dracula; they're family. And we see a transition in his appearance as he becomes stronger and healthier, emotionally and mentally."

-Hoult on his Renfield: "The version of Renfield that we are seeing is ninety years after the original. The madness has been beaten out of him. He's been under the thumb of this powerful man, taking care of him... for so long."

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Mandana can get work done for others though, those with lesser names and those with bigger names etc. and it seems time and time again that not only is Meghan a micromanager and a narcissistic sociopath, is that she is incredibly lazy and has never done anything that involved effort or hard work as she always had a man to fund her or support her or others to do it - she couldn’t even be bothered to interview her guests for the podcast, to film anything (whether the Netflix series or her photoshoots) at her home, to do her hair or makeup properly etc.

Meghan’s Roop will be sourced from China more than likely as she doesn’t care about where the money comes from as look at her coffee investment coming from where the Uighur genocide is taking place? Harry and Meghan have ties leading back to not only Russia but also China.

Meghan thinks people will buy cheap tat just because it has her name or brand on it, when she only decides what she wants sold as everything else will be designed, created etc. by others. She’s only rubber stamping if that.

She forgets that Charles’s Duchy products are organic and sourced from places that can be tracked and checked, and are made by luxury or artisan designers and by tradespeople affected by deindustrialisation.

Attacking Mandana like she has others always shoots Meghan in the foot - unlike Meghan, Mandana and the others have a proven track record, are professionals and well liked whether royal or not - and well connected - and this will not help Meghan in the slightest as it will only further blacklist her

Meghan and Harry are the walking embodiments of the saying "if everyone around you is the problem, then you're the problem."

And also, I don't think it's that Meghan doesn't care where the money comes from. It's that Meghan cares more about how much money she's losing from profit because of expenses. She wants the most bang for her buck with for the least expenses. It's why she merches the brands she does - because they're probably paying her for the exposure instead of the other way around.

[makoodles]

Let's continue with the fluff, (I know people are asking you a lot of content, so I want to give some for your enjoyment)

Your baby boy, being the littlest baby to have been ever born in the reef, every metkayina is baffled when they see him in your arms or with any of your other family members around, everyone knew that the baby was going to be little, your height practically a joke for them, but he is still such a tiny bit of a na'vi that everyone is just so careful when he is around.

Your baby boy, that takes advantage from his tiny size as a toddler and simply disappears, are you and Ronal chatting while cooking? He is gone in a few second from your side and is incredible near the fire place where Ronal catches him in time to prevent an accident, her heart near an attack, Tonawari, Ao'nung and the second youngest (Ronal's unborn baby still doesn't have a name but I figure that it's a few years older) go hunting? The little bean somehow got with them and now the three have to return now , like right now, because they have a baby outside of the reef with his mothers and sister in the verge of tears and calling out to Eywa for mercy because they can't find him since an hour ago.

The little menace only giggles when he is showered in kisses when he is safely delivered home yet again and is embraced by his mothers that can only thank Eywa, it doesn't matter that they check everytime they go out, he always makes his way with them, (Ao'nung is quite sure that his little brother is some kind of different being like Kiri, somehow, because he can't understand how he can do so much when he barely just learned to walk)

Your baby boy, who is now a kid, the littlest of the entire tribe, other kids his age are more tall (damn, even more strong), he looks at his family, many have told him that he looks a lot like his father and sister (Tsireya is the female version of Tonowari and you can't tell me otherwise) but with the eyes and fourth fingers of his mama, some kids make fun of him sometimes but he doesn't tell anyone and just does little evil deeds here and there using his strange ability to be almost unnoticed by everyone, he never gets caught because there is no evidence, you and Tonowari are so sure that it is his fault but there is no way to prove it, Ronal only sides smiles to her kid.

Your baby boy, now a teenager, that looks how, like every year, the Tulkun return home, he looks at his whole family go running to them but he chooses to stay with his mother, he knows that it is hard for her, it has been years but Ronal never told him, the story too gruesome to such a young kid, but the people talk and he ended up knowing either way, Ronal, as tsa'hik, will sooner or later go out, but until then he will stay to her side and then accompany her out.

Your baby boy, a teenager, who likes to go sunbathing for hours, people tells him that it is dangerous, going limp in the surface could get the attention of any predator that goes under him, but he likes to do it, there is no predator in the area of the reef, he just likes to do it, he remembers your tales, the planet from where his mama came, he knows that it's not the same sun, not the same planet structure (to whatever that is), butt he gets the connection of it, especially at night, because he remembers which little star is yours.

Your baby boy, not a baby anymore, (Tonowari always reminds you to stop calling him like that but Ronal kind of understands you because is a sky demon thing to show love, or something like that, remember that for na'vi calling someone a baby is basically an insult) is finally getting his first tattoo after finally receiving the merit for it from his father, but he doesn't have the slightest idea of what to get.

Your baby boy, who drags you out the pod, taking you to see his spirit brother, Ronal and the other village artisans are just finishing the tattoo on his big abdomen that goes similar to the one he got done on one side of his face.

this is so cute, why do i feel emotional about a baby boy that i don't have 😭😭

the bit about him running away when no one is looking hit me hard too because i was a runner as a child lmaoooooo

tysm for this, it was so cute and i had the best time reading it! it was definitely a nice little change!

[sulatni-flerida11]

htbahb au dump !! because the brainrot is too strong

general context things

currently, the characters are in their college years. even though the plan is to have the main storyline happen when they already have jobs, their college years established dynamics between them. some dynamics luckily haven't changed over the years, but others may take longer to rebuild.

cleo owns an apartment close to uni, and they share it with grian & etho.

joel & scar live as interns on campus.

lizzie, jimmy, bdubs, and pearl are also interns, with lizzie & pearl as roommates in a different building and jimmy & bdubs living across joel & scar

au prolly takes place in a semi-rural area; it started as a town with a small population and lots of farmland, but it's slowly evolving to follow other highly urbanized cities.

the town hasn't gone fully urban since it takes pride in utilizing its land with locally manufactured agricultural resources and artisan goods.

courses/classes they're taking prolly

cleo - horticulture (with sculpting at the side)

joel - agribusiness management & entrepreneurship (he's not super into it yet)

scar - economics

etho - agricultural chemistry (secretly also likes music)

grian - literature (also enjoys photography)

lizzie - music (likes to experiment with different art mediums tho)

bdubs - architecture

jimmy - horticulture

pearl - economics

and other dynamics between the group !!

lizzie sometimes pulls bdubs & cleo to her experiments. every summer break, they take an art related class together. so far, they've done painting and dancing. (bdubs has already enrolled them in a modeling class for the upcoming break, but the other two don't know yet.)

joel, pearl, and scar would discuss their business and/or economics related classes to grian, and grian just smiles and nods in respect (of them and their friendship) even if he doesn't understand most things they're saying. ("wait, what is a griffin good?" "griffen, grian, with an e.")

the real reason why joel, pearl, & scar talk about their classes to grian is because they like messing with him. (he's not as good with hiding his confused look as he thinks.)

jimmy once accidentally found an opening to one of the private properties of a big business in town - a flower field. whenever he and cleo have floriculture assignments that involve getting flowers, they pick their flowers from there. sometimes, they'd discuss the flowers there, ways to care for them, flower meanings, etc. sometimes, joel and etho join them. as loud as they are, they've only had one instance where they almost got caught. (they never brought joel and etho with them since then.)

pearl & scar buy newspapers daily by the campus gate to chat about the current events, especially ones relating to their degree. they quickly befriended the newspaper vendor as he also had a lot of food for thought regarding the things going on. their discussions help them a lot, aiding them in their essays and analysis about economic policies and applications.

etho would sometimes ask lizzie about music theory. what was supposed to be a few messages would end up in hours of them talking about music. eventually, lizzie found out about etho's music hobby, and she's the only one that knows.

grian owns a polaroid camera, and he sometimes takes candid pictures of the gang. his subjects are usually cleo & etho, mostly because they're his roommates and he spends the most time with them, but there's also a handful of pictures with scar & pearl.

joel and lizzie started dating after scar, bdubs, & pearl convinced him to go to an open mic event in the dorms during their first year; lizzie happened to be one of the performers.

if you've made it this far, any thoughts on what music genres/artists each life series member listens to? totally not for oneshot purposes in this au,,,

[animentality]

MY FIRST EVER DND CHARACTER- because everyone was asking.

Ahem *taps podium.

Rasp of Steel is a Kenku. His class is rogue, his subclass assassin, but really he's a jack of all crimes.

He was born to a Kenku flock in a densely populated city, and grew up in the criminal underbelly of its unscrupulous streets and seedy neighborhoods. He spent his childhood skulking about back alleys and shady markets with his fellow Kenku, scheming and plotting and seeking wealth and riches. Spying, stealing, intimidating, gambling, poisoning. Just an average Kenku upbringing.

But as he grew older, he found himself growing apart from his fellow Kenku, for one reason, and one reason alone.

Rasp of Steel is a daredevil, a thrill seeker, a desperado. He seeks the joy of the hunt, more than he cares for the gold pieces and the rare gemstones and beautiful jewelry. The journey over the destination. The race and the sweat and the feeling of running and chasing, over the finish line and the glory.

He does not commit crimes for money, but rather for passion.

Because it exhilarates him, and he seeks excitement and dare he even say it, adventure.

Rasp is very passionate about the art of crime. The pizzazz. The style. He is an artisan, crafting a performance against the system. He is always seeking bigger and better crimes, ones that he's never done before, sometimes even to the point where he fails because of his inexperience or his recklessness, resulting in harsher punishments. But he doesn't seem to mind being in and out of prison.

And as he entered adulthood, other Kenku began to gravitate away from him, disturbed by his strange disregard for treasure, his zealous and impulsive need for rebellion over reason.

So he began to leave the cities. Exploring, taking on odd and interesting jobs.

But ever since he left the cities, he has been alone.

Kenku are solitary by nature, when not around other Kenku. And he finds himself often regarded with distrust as he travels, causing him to shy away from social interactions, even with other thieves and spies and assassins.

The only long-standing relationship he has ever had...is ironically with an Aarakocra named Lazark.

A prison warden, who hates him about as much as Rasp likes him.

See, Rasp is an oddly humorous and light-spirited Kenku.

He is conniving and scheming, but he's also rather open-minded and cheerful. He has a dark sense of humor, without even realizing that others find it dark.

Lazark, on the other hand, is stern and humorless and ill-tempered. He has seen Rasp in and out of his prison a million times, and each time annoys him more than the last.

As Lazark shouts at him to get off the bars, to wash yourself, inmate, you smell disgusting, don't look at me inmate, Rasp just imitates his voice and repeats it back. It drives Lazark nuts, but Rasp thinks they're good friends.

He has mimicked Lazark's voice more than any other person he's met, and so many of his phrases are related to Lazark shouting at him not to do something.

And breaking narrative character for a moment...I just find that fucking funny, ok? My character's voice is literally the voice of the guy who hates him...but he has an affection for him, and he sees Lazark's hostility as a deeper bond they share.

Maybe it's because he spent most of his life being hated and seen as a suspicious, shady character. So being disliked, but passionately and single-mindedly, by one person, who recognizes him and sees him as a person (even if it's a hated person) is the closest thing he knows to friendship.

Because even though everything Lazark says to him is angry and literally shit like...get the fuck down from there, or stay in line, weirdo...Rasp just lights up because Lazark is talking to him!!! They are having fun together!!! They're hanging out!!! In this prison!!!! In which Rasp is supposed to be learning his lesson (but viewers, he is not).

Anyway.

So at the beginning of our campaign...Rasp is at a tavern because he was planning an elaborate escape plan from Lazark's prison...

But Lazark knew he was going to escape again, and he honestly didn't want to deal with it again. Rasp's escapes have always been a mess, whether he succeeded or failed, and his chances were about 50/50 anyway.

So he just did some paperwork and threw him the fuck out before he could even escape. And now Rasp is drinking his beer, mourning the fact that he never got to try this escape (but it was so nice of his best buddy Lazark to let him go early :) he must really like Rasp).

And he's wondering what he will do next.

it has to be something big that he's never tried before.

Some kind of crime, that'll take him places he's never been, meeting people he's never met before....

And SCENE.

EEEeeeeh.

Alright everyone, wrap it up.

This is what I've got.

Obviously, my friends and I haven't figured out our campaign yet, but...

I imagine I'll tweak my backstory for whatever it is.

But this is the gist of my son!

And I wanna draw him soon, because for pure aesthetic reasons, I want him to have a plague doctor mask.

For no particular reason, just because I like it, and have no backstory reason for it.

But uh...yeah

This was for all the lovely people who asked me what my character was.

This is him.

And he is waving at you excitedly...and you are shouting at him, because he is waving your own wallet at you.

[gaslightgallows]

September 2023 Writing Round-Up

I just checked my tags, and I haven't done one of these since… three years ago. Exactly three years ago yesterday (9/29/20), to be precise. Which was pretty much when my mental health and my personal life started to crumble in earnest, and it took my desire to write for public consumption along with it.

Most of what I did for the rest of 2020/2021 were either struggling to finish works in progress (and largely failing) or archiving stuff from my LJ days. I didn't post anything in 2022. I was still writing (a lot) but it was either for Patreon (…fuck, right, I have a Patreon) or it was personal, not meant to be shared.

And then Good Omens came back and ended up being really fucking relevant to my life, and @meldanya44 was there urging me to get back into writing for other people besides her. I think it was a good idea, over all. ♥

So… yeah. Thanks, Good Omens fandom, for reminding me that writing is meant to be shared, and that I am a prompt-based lifeform. (I'll be putting up a new prompt list tomorrow, if anyone wants an artisanally crafted bespoke ficlet of their very own.)

Anyway, here's what I did in September:

Authorial Intent (G, one-shot): Michael’s plan to erase Aziraphale from the Book of Life has certain… flaws. A revision of the final season of S2 Ep6, where the Metatron does not make an appearance. (Actually posted at the end of August but this is my list and it counts. Written very shortly after I finished S2 for the first time. Effervescing with joy.)

Put Out the Stars (T, currently a one-shot, planning to continue): Crowley stole the photo of himself and Aziraphale from the shop a long time ago. (Inspired by one of @fellshish's asks. Angst angst angst… with more to come!)

An Invisible Wound (T, one-shot): “I almost killed you tonight.” “I almost got you killed tonight.” Their first kiss, soft and futile, is in 1941. (Bittersweet canon-compliant 1941 truthers unite.)

After the Rain (T, one-shot; for @meldanya44): The Second Coming has come and gone, and Crowley was calling him ‘angel’ again. (Wonderful quiet post-series fluff.)

Like Petals in a Storm (M, currently a standalone but working on a sequel; for @meldanya44): Between the discorporation and the almost-execution, Aziraphale’s having a bit of trouble keeping body and soul together. (My reputation-mandated 'one partner helps another bathe' fic.)

The Taste of Salt (G, one-shot; for @iamhisgloriouspurpose): The lingering taste of ox ribs are bitter and rich in Aziraphale's mouth, and he isn't sure what he believes anymore. (Continues the 'I'm not taking you to Hell, angel' scene in the Ep2 minisode. Nice and angsty. No one seems to like this one and I'm not sure why.)

Pipe Dream (G, one-shot; for @unwholesome-gay): All Aziraphale has ever wanted is to give heaven back to Crowley. (Domestic fluff about Aziraphale buying the South Downs cottage for Crowley. Fun fact: I struggled to write this and finally posted it in dismay and tried to forget about it. And then my inbox exploded with HEARTS, so I guess it wasn't as bad as I thought.)

The Patience of Angels, Chs 1-4 (M, multi-chapter WIP): An old enemy is on the hunt for the demon known as Crowley, and it will take all the powers of one very protective angel to save him. But in keeping Crowley safe, Aziraphale will uncover more of the terrible truths of Heaven than he ever wanted to know. (The longfic I first conceived of in 2019 and then never got around to finishing enough to post, and am now trying to revise the HELL out of in real-time because the original version doesn't work anymore. I love this fic with a burning passion and hope it finds an audience someday… which it probably will if I can update it, y'know, more often than once a month…)

Fics Posted: 8 Word Count: 28,182

I'm never going to be as prolific as I was when I was in the MCU fandom and had a much less-hectic job, but I'd call that a decent comeback. Thanks, everyone. ♥

[cleolinda]

Sparking Joy (Jean Patou, 1930)

What's the best perfume of all time? Objectively, I don't think that's an answerable question; it might be that the absolute best perfume (which means what?) is something designed by an artisan outside the French tradition or the Arabian tradition, or not by a professional nose at all, but a single bottle mixed up by a hobbyist in some quiet little corner of the world. We just don't know. But much the way the American Film Institute decrees that Citizen Kane is the best [American] film of all time, what do Those in the Know think is the best? Chanel No. 5, right? The top seller in the world for decades?

Not at all. In 2000, the Fragrance Foundation FiFi Awards bestowed the public's choice for "Scent of the Century" on Jean Patou's Joy.

I remember reading this in the newspaper at the time, back when we had newspapers; I hadn't even worn fragrance since Sun-Ripened Raspberry body splash in high school, and I was shocked that it wasn't Chanel No. 5. I have to think "the public" meant "knowledgeable members of the perfume industry," because I had never heard of Joy, and most people I've talked to (who aren't hanging out on on fragrance forums) haven't, either. I feel like many of us would reflexively say "No. 5" because Chanel's done that good a job at shoring up their flagship's legend.

The story of Jean Patou's Joy is the opposite: when a fragrance isn't given the respect it deserves.

(Joy ads, 1947 and 1978; more here)

Famously, back when Joy was famous, perfumer Henri Alméras created Joy for Parisian couturier Jean Patou, as an oddly defiant, perhaps even life-affirming reaction to the 1929 Wall Street crash. At the time, it was "the costliest perfume in the world": "One ounce of the lavish scent contains 10,600 jasmine flowers and 28 dozen May roses"—and it cost $40 ($728.45!!!). And I might say it's a little obscene to create such an extravagant thing in the middle of the Great Depression—and yet, somehow, Joy was a huge success. A master perfumer created a work of art for a luxury vendor, and people bought it, and they loved it. Jackie Kennedy wore it; Vivien Leigh wore it. I've been wearing Joy for three weeks, and if I could have saved up enough pennies in 1930 to buy a tiny vial, I could see myself doing it, just to have that little something.

Joy was explicitly intended to be "a lighthouse" in a dark time of deprivation, and it wasn't overpriced just for the hell of it; it was the costliest in the sense of quality. It might best be known for its rose-jasmine pairing, but besides the entire region of Grasse crammed into every bottle, Joy also contains "leafy green notes," tuberose, ylang-ylang, aldehydes, peach (our old friend undecalactone?), lily of the valley, orris root, orchid, civet, musk, and sandalwood; Wikipedia also lists "michelia," which may mean magnolia here.

I'll admit up front that I have no idea when the sample I bought last month was produced, but the “juice,” as they say, looks very new; it doesn't have the deep dark color that I've seen on vintage bottles of Joy. It's got to be one of the newer formulations. Tom at Perfume Posse can speak for the older ones:

The [2022 sample] I received smells thinner than I remember - more skimming over those fields of flowers than just bashing into them, face-first. The Joy I remember reveled in the excess: bowers of roses, masses of lilies, clouds of tuberose backed with some of that “don’t F with me” musk that must have been civet back in the day. This is nice. Nice and sweet, with only a hint of the previous hedonist.

Angela at Now Smell This:

For the longest time, to me Joy smelled dense, like a Victorian room with the curtains pulled. I couldn’t feel my way around in it. The turning point for me came from hearing current Patou house perfumer Thomas Fontaine describe Joy’s sillage as lush and old fashioned. I’d been trying to make Joy a light, happy perfume. Really, it’s a gorgeously constructed velvet overcoat, heavy and plush and meticulously made. It’s red wine, not champagne.

The Scented Hound:

Joy (current version eau de parfum) is truly a joy when it first goes on the skin as it’s full of lush ylang-ylang and soapy white flowers and bright aldehydes. [...] As Joy continues its slow and deliberate path, a jasmine blends itself with the rose…but combined, they’re still very controlled and incredibly proper. Joy doesn’t transform or morph very much, but in the end, the florals fade and soften a bit, and what you’re left is a lightly warm breeze of light floral sandalwood musk.

The version I have is clearly the newer one—I actually would say it's more like champagne, not in the literal effervescent way (see the Coco Mademoiselles), but in the sense that this Joy is light. Not weak, but light, the way I described the aspect of No. 5 that I could stand as "limpid." In my head, Joy is a beautiful sunset pink color, sheer, almost verging into red. The jasmine comes out the strongest for me at first, maybe with the slight presence of an aldehyde, but then, on top of that, the biggest, fullest, realest rose I've ever smelled in a perfume. If I get cut flowers for my birthday, I always save any roses in the bouquet and dry them. Jean Patou's Joy smells like a rose that is so fully blown that the petals fall apart in my hand when I try to pull it from the vase. Not decaying, not that far gone, but the rose's absolute full potential of bloom, and so vividly that I can see the texture of the petals. If you want to tell me there’s 336 roses in here, I will believe you.

On my skin, the rose floats there on top, on a bed of headier florals, for at least half an hour; in my notes, I jotted down that a spicy ylang-ylang "with a slight bubblegum connotation" (see Samsara for more on the bubbleylang) shows up then, and by an hour-twenty, the whole thing has come together, all flowers present at once in a sweet, soft, heady, slightly spicy, rose-pink glow.

[Sidebar: At three hours, Joy reminded me in some non-literal way of Murray & Lanman's Florida Water, also billed as "the Richest of All Perfumes" in the late 1800s. (Of course I got myself a bottle of an actual Gilded Age perfume they still sell today for $4, are you kidding me?) I've seen a lot of Florida Water formulas (which are still used today in various spiritual traditions), and I've mostly seen lavender, clove, and multiple citrus notes as the components, sometimes with rose, ylang-ylang, and/or cinnamon as well. Unlike many, many French perfumes, Jean Patou's Joy doesn't have any citrus top notes at all, so I'm not sure what I'm getting in common with Florida Water, other than the florals and a certain spiciness that comes out late in Joy's game for me. I'd like to think it's purely the "richness" that reminds me of the Costliest Perfume in the World.]

"Warm breeze" is a good way to describe Joy's drydown; it's not heavy or old-fashioned to me at all, and I can't specifically pick out musk at any point (clearly, this sample was made after real animal musk was banned in 1979; anything animalic still here would be synthetic). I barely get sandalwood—it's just gorgeous florals, and if you (I) haven't smelled the original Joy, you aren't capable of missing it. Now Smell This has a breakdown of how the eau de toilette and the eau de parfum differed as of 2008; I got the EdP. I don't feel like it goes from light to dark, but it does smell very lush and complex to me. It feels like it sings, and you know what? When I first smelled it, I thought it smelled like a number of things I'd tried recently, particularly Coco Mademoiselle L'Eau Privée. That glowing pink rose-jasmine-ylang-sandalwood combination—and then I realized, no, those perfumes smell like Joy. Joy is so iconic that it's used as a building block, a quotation, in so many fragrances that came after it.

And it's so, so easy to wear—in fairness, I haven't worn the heavier original formulation, but I'm not even sure I'd want to. This Joy is so easy and lovely and gorgeous—I've been wondering if I'd ever find my one signature scent to rule them all, and while Joy doesn't have all my favorite notes, I wouldn't mind if it became mine.

But here's the thing: they don't manufacture Joy anymore. You can still buy what's already been produced, for now, but as existing supplies sell out, it'll only get more expensive with time. Because someone bought the rights to Jean Patou's Joy for the sole purpose of not producing it.

You're about to get a second post about who did that and why.

Perfume discussion masterpost

[tavsboots]

Oh!

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I've pavlov'd myself to the name Astro after using it in my usernames for years.

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Thank you kindly for reading!

[skelekins]

have a lil skelek doodle

been thinking of him off and on while i work on other stuff

this is essentially how i imagine snaps first sees him - just hanging out all cute n comfy in a surface market

nicknames ive considered: spindle, weaver, needle

honestly been struggling a lot thinking of surface skeletons >:| don't have a reason for their bone colors. I think surface-skeletons are extremely uncommon to the point that many either are extinct in aus or are assumed to be extinct. This is due to a combination of reproductive issues [after losing the knowledge of how to access their souls] and also being hunted for their dust/for being spooky.

I imagine the folklore associated with surface!skeletons is like a mixture of elves, will-o-wisps, and general fairies. They usually live out and away from urban environments, forests being very common. Because of their negative human-interactions some of them became adept illusionists and enchanters.

Surface!skeletons like to dance with each other and use it a way of deeper communications. Usually accompanied by humming [either verbal or an effect of vibrating their bones.]

Spindle is from a family that specializes in needlecraft. He can spin threads with different charms/enchantments from his own magic - the thread extending down his spine to be pulled from the tip of his tail. He can then embroider, using either pre-spun threads, or directly from his tail, more advanced spellwork.

He can weave, but he doesn't often and it isn't his specialization. It takes him the most effort, with the warp being done with raw magic from his tail and the weave done with a combination of raw and pre-spuns.

His enchantments can be used for: illusions/glamour [like Kelek's seal, though Kelek's is a metal bracer on his tail made by a different kind of monster, Kelek has never met a surface skeleton in his au].

This doesn't extend only to disguises. Spindle's work can glow or emit different effects for aesthetical reasons. Since magic also functions as a way of communicating, Spindle's work can also reflect this. His strongest charms tend to go to those he cares for just as a result of that extra emotion fed into the process. His gifts tend to subtly emit what he was feeling for the person when he crafted it.

Spindle lives alone in an urban surface-monster community; meaning he lives around humans which is highly unusual. The community he settled down in didn't have great access to an enchanter so he stayed behind when his family passed through. He very very very rarely goes around humans. If he's not at the surface market then he's home. He lives in a basement apartment under a family friend who usually gets Spindle anything that he might not be able to find in the monster-market.

edit: forgot to say - considered having his magic also be a form of prosthesis. so if a monster lost a limb then: Spindle would weave/embroider/spin thread for another artisan with the expected result being an ecto-version of the lost limb.

[callmearcturus]

curious about your on-the-go fic-writing keeb and how it's set up. also the whole switches post gave me the incredible desire for some sort of "what's in my bag" sitch. thank you i liked reading about your switch opinions.

Oh hell yeah sure.

So my mobile keyboard is amazing.

This is an EPOMAKER NT68. It's a 65% bluetooth keyboard that I have used to, at this point, write about 80% of the PT Benji AU. It's a fucking joy to use.

I got it on sale from Bezo's Store for about 70 bucks (it's 95 right now). At the time, it came with Gateron Blacks installed but literally like seven of the fucking switches had bent pins and had to be replaced. It came with five spare switches so I was p pissed.

Which, I was fine obvsly because I keep buying switches on the cheap.

Okay but about this specific keyboard:

EPOMAKER NT68

Haimu Whisper Silent Tactile switches (which I LOVE, very good feedback without a ton of sound, great of typing at work)

Cannoncaps CXA Superplum (which is to to date the only caps I have ever paid full price for which I should not have done except they might be my Actual Favorite Profile. this is unfortunate bc they fucking never going on sale, but that special spacebar shape is incredible)

my lil vinyl record player artisan was a gift 8) the maker is 2Tcraft on Etsy

What I love about this keyboard is that

It allows for three BT connections at a time, so i can swap from my phone to my home PC to anything else with two buttons

the sound of it on a deskmat is actually one of my favorite noise profiles of any keeb I've used

it is the most portable keeb without going into weird Nuphy keebs (which I did consider a lot) or going Ortho (which I ALSO considered but this was before Akko put out an affordable Ortho option, god bless Akko)

it has a felt magnetic sleeve that can be folded around the keeb to protect it or into a lil triangle to prop your phone on, which I use all the time. when this thing starts wearing out, I will be very sad.

it fits into my cheapass Vera Bradley crossbody bag so i bring it with me everywhere and I have genuinely used it a fucking lot, like a LOT.

it is a major conversation starter, everyone at work wants to know more about it which is fun.

obviously I had switch issues with the stock keeb and had to swap out some non-working switches, BUT the stock is honestly very good otherwise and the caps it comes with feel perfectly fine. you can use them for a while without issue.

some caveats:

this thing is an investment. i told myself that basically this is what my patreon is for and I saved up for a few months to justify it to myself. i'm glad I did it but also Oof That Pricetag.

the software for this thing is fuckign incomprehensible. i have tried many many times to add some hotkeys to it and fucking forget it. I managed to turn off the lights and that's all I'm doing with it. if you want this for coding and need something very easy to add layers to, FUCKING FORGET IT. go get one of Drop's Orthos instead.

sometimes i type too fast for this thing lmao. it doesn't happen often but like if i'm REALLY going max speed, it will every once in a while (like once in a paragraph) miss a key. I'm fine with this because it doens't happen with casual use.

it is portable but you are gonna need to find a bag for it to fit into. It fits perfectly into a Vera Bradley Sling Backpack, which I picked up on clearance from my local Hallmark store oddly enough.