#life and times in the wikipedia pits

[eggtrolls]

saw a photograph of a statue excavated at Delphi -> checked out the Wikipedia article on excavations at Delphi -> realized how utterly shit it was -> spend the first 5 hours of my first day of vacation fixing it instead of spending time with my family

[chaithetics]

Desperate to Please

Pairing: Kendall Roy x f (afab) reader Word count: 4.3K Warning: 18+ MDNI interact, my attempt at sexual tension, smut, language warning, a couple of references to canonical-esque drug use and toxic Roy family dynamics, bit of angst I guess? Not proof-read and run on sentences. Reader has no physical descriptions, it's you! A/N: HAPPY SUCCESSION SUNDAY! I hope you all enjoy this Kendall brainrot, I was a bit scared as this was my first time writing a Kendall fic, I'd only written him in Stewy x Roy reader fics before. I hope you all enjoy this! Big thank you to @waystarkia and @maraschinodreamo for enabling this! You're amazing besties, I adore you and I needed your support, big forehead kisses! Comments and reblogs are appreciated 🫶 My last few fics have been big flops so extra nervous!

You remember when he glided through the corridors of Harvard. How every party you went to and that you had a pit of dread in your stomach over as it could’ve been three hours devoted to rereading the assigned readings and going over your notes. He was there, always there, laughing with a giggling, intimate crowd and snorting powdered lines off any and every surface. 

It gave you a bitter, metallic taste in your mouth. How easy it was for him, how even when he flew too close to the sun there were always a million doors open for him, you couldn’t help but feel envious of that. 

When you needed to maintain a certain GPA for your scholarships, had to wear sweaters down to the last thread, keep up with the readings, the extracurriculars, any internships, anything and everything to get your foot in the door. It was miserable and intense. 

While there was something alluring in how much of a window to his soul those brown eyes were, you didn’t have time to look in them long enough to see a world of emotional turmoil and toxic family dynamics. 

He didn’t say much about his family, ever. And when he did, it was dismissive, deflective, perfectly media trained, he’d speak just like a politician he’d deflect the question and never satisfy the questioner. To the point that if you were in a bad mood, you’d wonder if even his pauses of ‘uh’ and ‘like’ were calculated. 

There was a collection of the finest, custom-tailored suits with his killer initials monogrammed, just waiting for him to slip them on. You weren’t old money and you definitely weren’t new money, your academic and professional career had been a never ending fight just to get a seat at the table. You couldn’t stand it, you would bite your tongue whenever you became nauseated from being in a room too long that reeked of the nepotism cologne they all assaulted your senses with. It was a slap against your face.

If he wasn’t so entitled, when you first met him you might’ve swooned over him, you would’ve swooned over him. Without a doubt. It just wasn’t a fun thing to admit to yourself, not back then and not now. 

You’d climbed a ladder, working hard, offering a polite but intelligent demeanour with a meticulous academic record and a work ethic that gave capitalism a boner. It had all led to a pretty sweet (enormously stressful) gig at Pierce Global Media. It made sense, you’d spend your college days side-eyeing him whenever he spoke or did anything at a party, racing a race he didn’t even know he was running in. Of course you’d end up working at his family’s competition. The politics of PGM also made it a lot easier to sleep at night, you could never imagine working at Waystar, ATN made you gag. 

You had a nice wardrobe and the bank account to prove ‘success’, you might've been petty but you still felt resentment over him, even if the trajectory of his life wasn't so smooth. But you were too busy to keep track of the countless edits on his Wikipedia page. He probably had assistants continuously rectify them.  

You didn't spare a thought to Kendall Roy or the suits walking in and out of country clubs. Except for when he was name dropped in PGM articles and broadcasts. That was all he was worth. It was all you’d allow him to be worth in your post-college, shiny grown up lives. 

And of course at moments like right now, when you’re on the clock and have to smile through the torture of corporate events like the heavily photographed and stressful galas and award shows. Fundraisers that are an excuse for sealing secret deals, getting wasted and showing off who was able to get the finest threads. 

Kendall was present of course, playing his usual role of the charming dancing monkey barely maintaining his father’s approval. 

He stood across the room, wearing a dark suit, freshly shaven while holding a thin, fragile glass in his hand. Kendall smiled as he mingled and networked like the trained pup he was, it was his party trick after a lifetime of these endless events and shallow faces. 

You went to bite your lip as you looked at him while a PGM comms employee spoke to you. It was only the thought of messing up your lipstick that stopped you. 

Kendall Roy was hot though, despite everything you’d have to give him that at the least. Begrudgingly. 

After going to the restroom and making sure you still looked perfectly presentable, you couldn’t help but still feel out of place at these events. No matter how much you climbed up the ladder, it was a severe case of imposter syndrome. 

You’d come out of the restroom and almost bumped into Kendall. “Oh shit!” You said, gasping as you placed a hand on your chest. 

He placed a hand on your arm to steady you, as if you were at risk of falling over. His touch burned you and it sent a shiver up your spine. “You okay?” He asked as his eyes raked over you, checking you were okay and then slowly taking in the view from head to toe. “Yeah, yeah, just gave me a fright. Sorry.” You respond, meeting his eyes as he looks back at your face. 

His hand is still on your arm, you can feel the heat of it radiating through to the rest of your body, and it is doing something to the most sensitive parts of you. 

You move slightly so that his hand falls down and he quickly returns it to his side and you pretend to adjust your dress as if you hadn’t been doing that two minutes ago in the bathroom. You try to avoid his eyes as you do this, you don’t want him to get the chance to see how that touch made you feel, the idea of it makes you feel sick to your stomach. “I didn’t expect to see you here, thought you’d be worried about some uh, kitchen cross-contamination.” He says as his eyes focus on your face. “I am, there’s a bottle of Purell in my purse and I have a bathtub filled with disinfectant waiting for me at home.” You quip back. 

“Uh huh, so pick your poison? Buried alive or in a conversation with a scary billionaire.” He raises an eyebrow as a slightly smug smile starts to grace his handsome face. 

“Buried alive.” You look into his eyes, and you almost want to melt with how he’s looking at you, as if he can read your mind and see everything. Giving you his full attention. “Worms would be easier company.” Kendall’s head tips down for a moment and he nods while chuckling, it’s a dry sound and you fight the urge to pick at your nails as you watch him chuckle. “Sure, sure, sure. I mean you did say easier instead of like, better. So my ego’s not completely bruised.” He says with a smirk as he looks down at his shoes. 

“I hear verbal punches aren’t doing it these days.” You say as you watch him, his gaze leaves the floor as it combs through you again, taking in your appearance appreciatively and a glint of something else burns in his eyes for a moment. “There’s other ways to impact an ego. I know you can do more than bruise it.” He says quietly in a low voice made just for your ears. 

You almost freeze at that, you can feel it run through your whole body, shooting through your spine and the air you’d just inhaled feels trapped. Screaming for a way out. You exhale slowly, avoiding his gaze as your eyes latch onto a waiter and you politely stop him as you take a tall glass off of the platter he’s holding. The taste is a sensory respite from Kendall's existence and you focus on that as you take a sip and hold the glass for dear life. 

“What? I drive you, speechless?” He teases as he watches you with a smirk, there’s a slight flush on his cheeks. 

“I’d disagree.” You whisper looking back at him finally, feeling a little more composed despite your heart still beating faster than a rabbit. 

“You’re not chatty for an old Harvard friend, never have been.” He says as if this observation is something new and fascinating. 

“An old Harvard friend? My invitation to the boys club seemed to have been lost in the mail, quite a delay, you might want to change your postal provider.” You quickly retort and sip your drink. 

“Have you always felt the need to be so…” He waves his hand slightly as if that’ll perfectly communicate whatever adjective he means. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Well I seem to leave a bitter taste in your mouth.” 

“You don’t leave anything in my mouth, you’re not even an afterthought on a good day.” You say, he smiles and takes a sip from his glass. 

“You’re breaking my heart here!” He says playfully, melodramatically and his smile grows into a wolfish grin. “Because there’s definitely an attraction here.” 

“Excuse me?” Your voice goes up in exasperation at the audacity of the man standing in front of you. Sure he might be right, of course you’re attracted to him… How could you not be? When that suit perfectly fits his physique and he’s trying to disarm you with his stupid words and cocky smiles. 

“Come on, it’s fucking uh, nuclear- it’s nuclear! All this energy and potentially more sustainable for- you catch my drift. I feel it, you feel it. And I’m the goddamn man and I can see that facade falling, crumbling away like ancient ruins for something better.” He says confidently and somewhat excitedly. 

“I don’t feel it.” You lie. 

He scoffs, chuckling and looks at you, he licks his lips for a moment and you almost let out a soft moan at the sight of that, barely able to suppress it and you want to scream at yourself. You’re crumbling. 

“Sure, sure, can’t bed the big bad wolf on the screaming populist side, wouldn’t look clean cut, would it?” He asks and you just look at him, you try to keep your face steely and not show a glimpse of anything else. “Sure fine, I’ll fucking play ball, baby.” 

“It’s corporate.” He says with a casual shrug as if that answers whatever conundrum he thinks you’re possibly in that you don’t want to enlighten him on. “So, come on, I’ll uh, strip down to my Waystar Royco ™ skivvies, show you a gilded skeleton in my closet and you can like uh, take me to the glue factory and show me a horse that’s been sold and how the horse gets melted, sausage gets made.” He tilts his head to look at you, a playful smile as he looks at your soft lips. 

“There’s legislation- regulations against that now. I know it might be a new word for you but you should have your assistant look it up for you.” You say with a sigh and look down at your glass, avoiding the glint of an awkward charm in his eyes. 

“I’m a good guy, I’m not 100% whatever the fuck you’ve painted me out to be, I don’t get a hard on out of systemic oppression.” He says casually as he looks at your face, analysing each blink, he must’ve stepped closer, you swear you can feel his breath against you as he speaks. 

“It benefits you at the least.” You whisper. 

“Yeah, it does. But I didn’t make the system.” He whispers back and you can’t help but bite the corner of your lip as the breath from his words tickles your cheek. “I made a very generous donation to gynaecological cancer last month.” He says playfully and you can’t help but scoff at that, he smiles widely at your scoff, pleased with your reaction. 

“I’m aware, it was reported on, by PGM as well.” You tease and he smiles. 

“I’m something of a philanthropist myself.” He chuckles proudly. “So?” 

“So?” You ask looking at him, taking in the way he holds his glass, the arch of his dark eyebrows and every line on his face. “That’s your stage direction to start uh swooning and like fawning and fainting into my arms.” 

“Do those lines work usually?” You ask with a tone of disbelief. 

“I’m Kendall Roy, I don’t need lines.” He immediately quips back with a cocky tone. 

“Doesn’t use lines, right… I didn’t realise Kendall Roy ever needed to beg.” You watch his finger trace the rim of the glass in his hand. There’s something about it, it entrances you and you feel your cheeks heat up like he’s just started a fire. 

“Trust me, you’d know if I was begging.” He says as that signature slight smile turns into a confident smirk. “And we’re not there, yet.” 

It feels dangerous and your muscles tense as you look at him, his dark eyes have a playful glint that sends a shiver up your spine. You feel your hand grip the glass much tighter, as if you’re moments away from cracking it. 

“Come on, I’m a hot shot- in fact, the hot shot, and you’re uh, Botticelli’s Venus here-” he tilts his head down and waves his hand slightly. “Dressed to the nines and all.” 

“Mm, going above and beyond, not just numbers and stock value, you know art too.” 

“Oh yeah, I can uh name it all, namedrop beyond DaVinci, I can rattle off about uh, Mondrian with his little lines,  you’ve probably got what? A Pollock in your apartment, to what? Feels a little spontaneous when you clock off? Classy and cute Hilma af Klint?” He asks with a raised eyebrow and sips his drink as his eyes bore into your soul. 

You tilt your head to look at him, watching him as he sips from that flute. There’s cockiness there and under other circumstances, you’d be disappointed in yourself for how quickly that melts away any hesitancies you have. He knows what he’s doing and you know what you’re going to do. You’re both nocturnal moths, feeling alive and awake this evening, craving something more. Needing something more. Two moths drawn to the exact flame. 

You’re in his penthouse, his stupid fancy penthouse that would make child you scream if you knew how much this place cost. You don’t care about that right now, right now you’re a pot on a stove simmering with years, years, worth of need for him and it’s about to overflow and spill. 

As soon as you’re inside he pounces on you, he’s eager and his body is agile and he moves like a feline. Quickly pawing you to get what he needs. What you both need. You don’t bother to try and repress any of your noises and neither does he. 

You put your hands up to his head to lightly scratch his scalp, he buries his head against your throat and groans out as you do and you feel his wet lips press hungrily against your throat. He sucks against your skin and you whine out as he keeps kissing, feeling your sensitive skin in his journey to not leave an inch of skin untouched. 

Kendall guides you to the sofa as he does this, he does it with surprising ease as he keeps listening to the beautiful music of his wet kisses against you and your sweet moans. Kendall gently but firmly pushes you down onto the sofa and you let out a gasp as he does. 

Once you're seated and sprawled out for him like a personal masterpiece, he pushes the hem of the skirt of your dress up to your hips, Kendall immediately drops to his knees in front of you, ready in position to worship you as you deserve. Kendall spreads your legs with a swift motion and groans as he positions himself, knelt down between your thighs. Ken breathes heavily and slowly, completely mesmerised and his heart beats louder than thunder in his ears. God, he needs this. God, he needs you. So fucking badly.

His hand touches your knee and runs up your thigh, his eyes are wide as he looks at your body reverently, lust sparks in his eyes. His thumb starts to brush against your inner thigh gently and you sharply inhale as you watch him. 

“I know what you think and I… I get it,” he breathes out heavily as he looks up at you with lust-blown but genuine big, wide eyes and you feel your own breath become more shaky as you look down at him. “It wasn’t all fucking sunshine and lollipops and feeding fucking ducks bread in the park, you know?” He says looking up at you. 

Fingers grip your thighs tighter at that bringing out a sharp gasp, fear over the implication of his confession even with how vague it is, the lack of explicit over the pressure, the verbal and emotional abuse he endured as a defenceless child while board members watched and said nothing. How all the adults he knew would either laugh awkwardly or go quiet, dismissive, when Roman was hit. How he watched it all, saw things even Shiv and Roman don’t remember. Things he can’t speak or begin to imagine saying. 

“He’s this boogeyman legend, the GOAT of media but a fucking mythical ghoul in all of our rooms.” He whispers, desperate for some external validation, you nod and caress his hair slowly, taking in his words patiently as he speaks. “It was this psychological prison, each mansion, penthouse, five star emotional abuse, make fucking Gordon Ramsay cry, one that everyone wanted to walk into and not comprehend the uh, consequences.” 

You just nod and listen, you’re not sure what to say, especially what to say to his words in this situation. But there’s a change in his eyes that he sees. He feels safe here, he feels safe and seen as he kneels and worships at the altar of his deity of beauty. 

His fingers apply more pressure as he touches your thighs, he needs you, he knows in his brain and his heart that you’re what will make him feel better right now. Every muscle, organ and bone knows it, especially the one growing and hardening in his pants right now. The feeling of his fingers tickle and you watch him lazily, his touch feels good and there’s something about him doing it, the way he looks at you, like your some masterpiece that should be front and centre of the Louvre. 

Kendall presses a kiss to your thigh, you let out a shaky breath you didn’t realise you were holding in as you feel his warm breath against your sensitive skin. You close your eyes and take a deep breath as he quickly runs a trail of kisses up your thigh before getting to your core. 

He immediately presses his face against your core, your eyes widen as you feel him, you feel his mouth on you even with the fabric of your underwear creating a barrier between you two. It’s a new feeling as you feel him kiss and then lick your sweet pussy through your panties. They quickly become wet with his tongue frantically moving and your arousal leaking out. 

A soft whimper leaves your mouth at the feeling, the friction and how good his mouth feels even with that barrier. He keeps moving at that frantic pace, his left hand grips your thigh, keeping it pinned to the couch and massaging the soft flesh while his other slowly snakes up your body so he can squeeze your breast and pull out another delicious whimper. 

The sounds you’re making makes him harder and he groans against you, the vibration of that makes you throw your head back and whimper again. You need more. It’s so hot to have him in this way, to have him so desperate for you he’ll try to lap you up through your panties but you need to properly feel him. You try to buck your hips up to get him closer, you need him. 

He continues and groans at that, he shakes his head against you and swirls his sweet tongue around and you cry out. 

“I need- Ken, Ken! Please!” You cry out needily. “I can already taste how sweet you are through your soaked panties, baby.” He whispers as he pulls back slightly. 

“Take them off…” You whisper as you look into his lust-blown eyes, they’re just as needy if not more than yours. 

He immediately takes them off and you whine out as he does, his hands are quick and efficient. Before you can even blink Kendall has dived right back in, determined to taste you right from the source with nothing in his way. 

Ken’s wanted this for so long, he’s needed it for so long. 

Kendall doesn’t worry about trying to warm you up, it’s not even a thought that crosses his mind. His mouth runs along your folds, and before you know it he’s pressed his face to you even more and he starts to lap you up. His eyes roll back and he closes them, whining against you as he laps up your fluids and uses his tongue to send you to heaven. 

His vibrations make you bite your lip and you buck your hips up again, one arm stretched out to the armrest of the sofa and you claw it mercilessly, just as he laps you up. Kendall then tilts his head slightly and groans, he lightly presses his nose against your sensitive bundle of nerves and you cry out, the loudest you ever have. 

Your eyes widen and you look down at him as you moan loudly and he continues. He keeps licking you up and moving his nose against you. While you’re clawing the armrest, your back arches and you try to press yourself more into his touch needing more, it’s insanely and perfectly wanton. Moving your freehand into his short dark hair, you tug on it. You barely need to tug it to guide him as he moves perfectly and is giving you the greatest pleasure you’ve ever felt before. 

Kendall continues, drowning in your juices and making sure not a single drop is wasted. He’s tasted it now and it’s amazing, life changing, how could he sit before you and waste a drop? He savours your scent and taste as tongue licks you and his nose keeps moving and applying the perfect amount of pressure to your now throbbing clitoris. 

His movements are desperate and that of a starved man. You can see it, feel it and it’s what he is. He’s a starved man and you’re his perfect banquet. He continues, needing to make you orgasm. He’s drowning in you, his mouth and nose but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He takes a deep breath and his hand moves along your thigh, squeezing it and he grips your hip tightly. 

You’re getting closer and closer just from that clitoral stimulation and he can tell, he moves his face up so he can look at you. See how pleasure is painted across your face, he moves so his tongue laps up at your clitoris, swirling around it and making you shake and moan. Fuck, you look so pretty he thinks and you can’t help but think how good he looks like this, down on his knees in front of you, with his tongue buried between your legs. 

Kendall continues and you moan more. You’re not sure how long it’s been, he hasn’t been between your legs long enough, you know that for sure. You need him there longer but you know you’re just a flick of his tongue away from being pushed over the cliff and orgasming then and there. You tug on his hair and groan. 

“Goddamnit, I’m so close…” You whine out and bite your lip as your cheeks heat up more and he smiles against you, caressing your thigh and he continues licking. After the shortest five seconds in the world you pant and your back arches as you release. 

The taste is sweet and perfect, just as Kendall knew it would be. He groans against you, it turns him on so much. He continues to lap it up, just slower now, so he doesn’t overwhelm you too much and so he can savour each drop of your release. 

You moan as he continues, he keeps his face buried between your legs for a moment, caressing your thighs and when he can tell your breathing has recovered a little. He dives right back in. 

Making you come? That was something he needed to do. Only doing it once? That was pathetic. Kendall needed to hear those moans from you, to taste you, at least a few more times tonight. And that’s what he was going to do. 

Before you can utter a word, Kendall has already started to lap you up again desperately. He had something to prove after all, he always had something to prove. And if he could pull the sweetest noises out of you, the prettiest thing he's seen, who had despised him since college, what couldn't he do? What more approval could he be denied when you gripped his hair and bucked your hips up desperately searching for more pressure from his tongue. He had made himself right at home in this position, how couldn’t he?

[helloanthy]

🗒️ 24.04.2024 ⋅⋅⋅ 🥀

some notes for 20.09.2023 post and a separate cut out for utena because i spent a very long time rendering her ... the original concept i had in my head for this art was very different. it was just supposed to be a style study of this an official anime prop design art, and i'd thought to draw anthy in a similar pose across from her like in the shown version, but with her wearing her prince outfit from the manga. something something another form of female competition under the patriarchyyy stop pitting 2 girlprinces against each other omg etc (side note, how sick would it have been in an AU where akio made anthy fight against utena in the ring? like i dont think it would hav added more to the story or made it better really ... probably would've diluted the message to be honest ... but everytime i see that manga art of prince anthy i imagine some convoluted black rose arc AU where utenas dodging anthy getting her hair hacked off left and right like himemiyaaa nooo snap out of it this isnt uuu while anthys silent and dead eyed hahaha) but then after i drew prince anthy, the picture looked rather empty ... so i thought to add a few decals or borders in the style of the show & official arts but aaahh ... there was still too much negative space. i had to scrap anthy's prince outfit and put her back in her rose bride dress 😭 man !!! he cant keep getting away this !!! [blames akio the figurehead of patriarchy instead of taking responsibility of my own actions] which made me sad because i was pretty satisfied with the way i drew her pose and legs ! but i had to cover it up 🥲 ... the composition overall looked better though. and then after that it kept spiraling. i just kept adding more and more things until i lost control of this drawing and it plagued my WIP folder for months ... i dont want to try and connect all of it in words so ill just lay out all the pieces for you so you can connect them yourself. and you can experience my art thought process in fraction of erraticity and frustration as i experience it myself. this is a lot neater than what happened in my head though because i bothered to put it in order. honestly if i can make you feel a little bit insane trying to scroll through and read all this than i can make you understand how annoying my brain is when all i wanted to draw was utenanthy girlprinces fighting starting references & inspiration: utena prop reference sheet & manga prince!anthy

the tower & the lovers tarot

above: the lovers as depicted in the tarot of marseilles deck, tarocco bolognese deck, & tarocco piemontese deck the lovers (tarot card) wikipedia: The Lovers is associated with the star sign Gemini, and indeed is also known as The Twins in some decks. Other associations are with Air, Mercury, and the Hebrew letter ז (Zayin). In the Rider Waite deck, the imagery for this card is changed significantly from the traditional depiction. Instead of a couple receiving a blessing from a noble or cleric, the Rider–Waite deck depicts Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.

a.e. waite, the pictorial key to the tarot, part III, section 3, no.6: UPRIGHT: Attraction, love, beauty, trials overcome REVERSED: Failure, foolish designs. Another account speaks of marriage frustrated and contrarieties of all kinds a.e. waite, the pictorial key to tarot, part II, VI. the lovers: In the foreground are two human figures, male and female, unveiled before each other, as if Adam and Eve when they first occupied the paradise of the earthly body. Behind the man is the Tree of Life, bearing twelve fruits, and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil is behind the woman; the serpent is twining round it. The figures suggest youth, virginity, innocence and love before it is contaminated by gross material desire. This is in all simplicity the card of human love, here exhibited as part of the way, the truth and the life. It replaces, by recourse to first principles, the old card of marriage, which I have described previously, and the later follies which depicted man between vice and virtue. In a very high sense, the card is a mystery of the Covenant and Sabbath. The suggestion in respect of the woman is that she signifies that attraction towards the sensitive life which carries within it the idea of the Fall of Man, but she is rather the working of a Secret Law of Providence than a willing and conscious temptress. It is through her imputed lapse that man shall arise ultimately, and only by her can he complete himself. The card is therefore in its way another intimation concerning the great mystery of womanhood. going off of the rider-waite tarot deck: the pictorial key to the tarot—biddytarot's interpretation of the lovers: UPRIGHT: Love, harmony, relationships, values alignment, choices REVERSED: Self-love, disharmony, imbalance, misalignment of values In its purest form, The Lovers card represents conscious connections and meaningful relationships. The arrival of this card in a Tarot reading shows that you have a beautiful, soul-honoring connection with a loved one. [...] The Lovers is a card of open communication and raw honesty. Given that the man and woman are naked, they are both willing to be in their most vulnerable states and have learned to open their hearts to one another and share their truest feelings. [...] On a more personal level, The Lovers card represents getting clear about your values and beliefs. You are figuring out what you stand for and your philosophy. Having gone through the indoctrination of The Hierophant, you are now ready to establish your belief system and decide what is and what is not essential to you. It’s time to go into the big wide world and make choices for yourself, staying true to who you are and being authentic and genuine in all your endeavors. At its heart, The Lovers is about choice. The choice about who you want to be in this lifetime, how you connect with others and on what level, and about what you will and won’t stand for. To make good choices, you need to be clear about your personal beliefs and values – and stay true to them. Not all decisions will be easy either. The Lovers card is often a sign that you are facing a moral dilemma and must consider all consequences before acting. Your values system is being challenged, and you are being called to take the higher path, even if it is difficult. Do not carry out a decision based on fear or worry or guilt or shame. Now, more than ever, you must choose love – love for yourself, love for others and love for the Universe. Choose the best version of yourself. Finally, The Lovers card encourages you to unify dual forces. You can bring together two parts that are seemingly in opposition to one another and create something that is ‘whole’, unified and harmonious. In every choice, there is an equal amount of advantage and disadvantage, opportunity and challenge, positive and negative. When you accept these dualities, you build the unity from which love flows.

the tower (tarot card) wikipedia: The Tower is widely associated to danger, crisis, sudden change, destruction, higher learning, and liberation. In the Rider–Waite deck, the top of The Tower is a crown, which symbolizes materialistic thought being bought cheap, downcast. a.e. waite, the pictorial key to the tarot, part III, section 3, no.16: UPRIGHT: Misery, distress, indigence, adversity, calamity, disgrace, deception, ruin. It is a card in particular of unforeseen catastrophe REVERSED: According to one account, the same in a lesser degree also oppression, imprisonment, tyranny (the wikipedia included a.e. waite's upright meanings, but i have no idea where they got the reversed meanings) going off of the rider-waite tarot deck: the pictorial key to the tarot—biddytarot's interpretation of the tower: UPRIGHT: Sudden change, upheaval, chaos, revelation, awakening REVERSED: Personal transformation, fear of change, averting disaster The Tower shows a tall tower perched on the top of a rocky mountain. Lightning strikes set the building alight, and two people leap from the windows, head first and arms outstretched. It is a scene of chaos and destruction. The Tower itself is a solid structure, but because it has been built on shaky foundations, it only takes one bolt of lightning to bring it down. It represents ambitions and goals made on false premises. The lightning represents a sudden surge of energy and insight that leads to a break-through or revelation. It enters via the top of the building and knocks off the crown, symbolizing energy flowing down from the Universe, through the crown chakra. The people are desperate to escape from the burning building, not knowing what awaits them as they fall. [...] The best way forward is to let this structure self-destruct so you can re-build and re-focus. [...] with a card like The Tower, you have no choice but to surrender to the destruction and chaos, no matter how unwanted or painful [...] After a Tower experience, you will grow stronger, wiser and more resilient as you develop a new perspective on life you did not even know existed. 

infant stars taken by NASA hubble used in the background overlay of akio's tower star birth | cool cosmos: Stars form from the simplest of building blocks - huge clouds of gas and dust that permeate the Galaxy. [...] While these big clouds of dust and gas lay dormant for many millions and perhaps billions of years, eventually some of them are disturbed. This can happen gradually, maybe caused by the approach of one of the Milky Way's spiral arms as it slowly sweeps around the center of the galaxy, or it can be a sudden event, like a nearby supernova explosion that blasts a shockwave through the cloud. Either way, a small increase in the pressure and density of the cloud forms knots in the gas and dust that eventually collapse under their own gravity, pulling more and more of the surrounding material in, and forming the stellar "seeds" known as protostars. From Protostar to Star: As the clouds collapse, they start to rotate, and, like a spinning skater pulling in her arms, each of these seed protostars begins to spin faster the more it collapses. The material falling towards the protostar flattens out into a rotating disk of dust and gas encircling the central core. The protostar warms up, as the potential energy of the material falling in is converted into kinetic energy, but it has not yet ignited to form a fully-fledged star. For the next few million years, the protostar's gravity pulls in more material from the surrounding cloud into its disk. That disk transports the gas and dust onto the protostar, causing the protostar to grow. The increase in mass causes the gravitational field of the protostar to increase and so even more material is pulled into the disk. The addition of more material, in turn, increases the gravitational field even further, pulling in more material, and so on, creating a feedback loop that keeps the whole process going. [...] The density and temperature of the protostar keep climbing higher and higher, until eventually the core grows to about one tenth the size of our Sun, and becomes hot and dense enough for hydrogen nuclei to spontaneously stick together to form helium, in a process called nuclear fusion. At that instant, the core ignites, and the new star is born. Meanwhile, in the disk, clumps of material have been forming, which are the seeds of new planets. These seeds sweep up material in the disk in a process called accretion, forming the planets of a new solar system. Once the star has started nuclear fusion, the heat and wind from the infant star begin to blast the gas and dust away, creating a cavity in the cloud. As more and more matter gets funneled onto the star from the disk, the star gets larger and larger, causing it to push harder and harder against the cloud and the disk, enlarging the cavity, vaporizing the disk, and halting the growth of planets.

deadheading (flowers) wikipedia: Deadheading is the horticultural practice of removing spent flowers from ornamental plants. Deadheading is a widespread form of pruning, since fading flowers are not as appealing and direct a lot of energy into seed development if pollinated. The goal of deadheading is thus to preserve the attractiveness of the plants in beds, borders, containers and hanging baskets, as well as to encourage further blooming. Deadheading flowers with many petals, such as roses, peonies, and camellias prevents them from littering.

[...] Ornamental plants that do not require deadheading are those that do not produce a lot of seed or tend to deadhead themselves [...] if the plant bears attractive seeds or fruits, deadheading is normally avoided

ladybird, ladybug, lady beetle: scientific name "coccinellidae" wikipedia: Etymology: [...] The common English name ladybird originated in Britain where the insects became known as "Our Lady's birds". Mary ("Our Lady") was often depicted wearing a red cloak in early art, and the seven spots of the species Coccinella septempunctata (the most common in Europe) were said to represent her seven joys and seven sorrows. Trophic Roles: Coccinellids act both as predators, prey and parasitic hosts in food webs. The majority of coccinellids are carnivorous and predatory. [...] Cannibalism has been recorded in several species; which includes larvae eating eggs or other larvae, and adults feeding on individuals of any life stage.

Defense: The bright warning colouration of many coccinellids discourage potential predators, warning of their toxicity [...] Species with more contrast with the background environment tended to be more toxic. Coccinellid haemolymph (blood) contains toxic alkaloids, azamacrolides and polyamines, as well as foul-smelling pyrazines. Coccinellids can produce at least 50 types of alkaloids. When disturbed, ladybirds further defend themselves with reflex bleeding, exuding drops from their tibio-femoral (knee) joints, effectively presenting predators with a sample of their toxic and bitter body fluid.

despite said being named after the lady virgin mary they are known to be promiscuous breeders, who's habits have been documented to result in epidemics of sexually transmitted infection in large populations, subject to various academic studies

lyric from lady oscar's theme song "the rose perishes beautifully"

ok there was more but its been like 8 hours it turns out trying to put my thoughts into words even if its just a bunch of copy pasting is even more annoying than just thinking them im ending this post 😭

[copperbadge]

His time approaches.

[ID: A small Starbucks branded paper coffee cup, which does not have coffee in it; instead, emerging from the mouth of the cup is a blue witch's hat with a star on it. The hint of one wide, staring owl eye, belonging to the figurine known as Prowly, looks up at you with menace in his gaze.]

If you’ve been here more than a year you probably remember Prowly; if you haven’t, well, that’s why we do the Ritual Retelling of the Story of Prowly, the Owl On The Prowl. (Screenreader users, you can read a full description of Prowly here.)

Nine years ago, as a gift, my mother gave me a terrifying owl figurine. After I posted it on the internet so that if I died mysteriously you’d know why, @thewalrus-said suggested that it was the spiritual kin to Elf On The Shelf: Owl On The Prowl.

Wikipedia doesn’t properly explain that part of the psychosis of Elf On The Shelf is that parents have taken to setting up daily tableaux with the Elf figurine for their children to find during the Christmas season. I came of age well before the existence of Elf On The Shelf, so when I googled it I fell into a terrifying pit of Elf Tableau Ideas, Elf Bad Tableau Ideas, Elf Hate, and Elf Recrimination.

But the suggestion was an intriguing one, so ever since Prowly came into my life I have been staging Owl On The Prowl tableaux for your entertainment every October.

At least he’s got one up on the Elf on the Shelf: Prowly isn’t a snitch.

[wh0re4women]

Anticipatory Grief. (Larissa Weems X Reader) SFW.

Summary: Anticipatory grief refers to a feeling of grief occurring before an impending loss. Typically, the impending loss is the death of someone close due to illness — Wikipedia.

Warnings: So much hurt, loss, grief. No comfort. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. inspired by this beautiful fic by @weemssapphic and a bunch of poetry on grief.

Larissa shuffles out of bed at four in the afternoon. You're chopping vegetables for dinner — the same dinner you've cooked every day this month (the only thing she can stomach these days). She's up later today, just like all week, despite the early night. She steps into the kitchen; winces at the ache in her spine. You turn around, force a smile, try to bite down the thought that she's almost gone. Two hours later will turn into four, then eight and suddenly her hands are cold and—

"How did you sleep, sweetheart?" you nervously ask and the way her breath catches in her throat as she takes a single step forward creates a pit in your stomach.

Larissa looks tired, pale; when you wrap an arm around her waist and guide her gently, slowly towards a leather, cushioned chair — out of place in the kitchen, in replacement of a stool that Larissa could no longer hop onto — she feels frail, light. It's a sick reminder that you've already lost so much of her.

In a way, grief is nice, it proves you've loved. But today, grief is cruel. When Larissa brokenly replies “Well, darling,” the words are swollen with guilt from telling the white lie, but Larissa cant stand seeing the worry knitting your eyebrows together, cant stand the sound of concern in your voice every time you ask a question. She's ridden with guilt; notices that your phone is never on mute anymore — always on alert in case the doctor calls, notices how you used to find joy and comfort in cooking, but now preparing any meal means hours of hand-feeding every bite to her while she cradles a sick-bowl in her arms. Even the simple things — the things no one would analyse — keep Larissa's mind occupied. Like how she hasn't seen you wear a dress in months. Not since Larissa was diagnosed and you had to make sure you always kept emergency medication in your pockets (something that dresses lacked).

You try not to ask too many questions as you feed Larissa dinner, yet one pulls at your tongue the entire time — how am I supposed to live without you? There's desperation in your eyes and Larissa catches a glimpse of it right before you turn away to wash the dishes. She insists she can manage to stay up and watch TV in the living room with you tonight. You insist she goes back to bed. There's tension in the air — the usual now; it dissipates as you compromise with a shared bath.

The porcelain fills with water gradually and you wonder if this is the last time you'll bathe with Larissa — is it the last time you'll ever see her naked frame? In another life, you're fifty-three and Larissa is seventy-two; you eat berries as you watch the sun rise and drink tea as you watch it set. In this life, you're just unlucky.

You slide into the tub behind Larissa and ease her back onto your chest, thankful that the running tap muffles your sniffle, thankful that Larissa's head falls onto your shoulder and her thin, blonde hair unknowingly brushes the tear off your cheek. You've technically already lost her — she barely resembles the Larissa that you fell in love with; you almost wish you could stop loving her just for that, so that the grief would quit cutting at your heart strings, so that you could finally swallow without the lump in your throat being in the way.

You close your eyes and your lungs burn with the breath you're supposed to take and when you do take it, it comes out shaky and fuck, Larissa wasn't supposed to know that you're upset but you feel her tense and no amount of cascading your nails along her arm is enough to melt her back into your skin, but she doesn't ask because she already knows and there's nothing she can do to help but just be there; she isn't even sure if she can do that.

The washcloth is soapy; leaves a trail of suds as it slides along Larissa's skin. She winces, bites her lip in frustration with herself, apologises, asks you to please, just a little lighter, it hurts today and you use your bare hand for the first time ever, knowing it's now routine.

Larissa cringes visibly as she swallows her medication, like usual, and you pray to whoever is listening to let you trade places with her, as always. She falls asleep an hour earlier than normal and you note the change in the back of your mind; scribble it in your notebook before you leave the room.

The wine bottle is emptied within two days and Larissa's washcloth grows cold and mouldy on the edge of the tub by the end of the week; you don't dare throw it out. You wonder if all of the TV shows you started would ever get finished, or if maybe some things are just meant to end unexpectedly and too soon.

"A couple of weeks maybe," the doctor tells you when you stupidly ask again. He looks directly into your eyes with sorrow and you're angry, you're so angry — because it's not just a couple of weeks, it's also a lifetime of grief and heartbreak and longing; it's walking down the cereal aisle and breaking down because Larissa loved that brand of granola. Because the doctor was supposed to save her. Because you were supposed to grow old together and Larissa won't get to do that anymore and you're not sure whether you can do it without her.

When the Pharmacist calls you darling, you dial Larissa's number immediately to make sure it isn’t a sign from a higher power telling you that something is wrong. And when you hear an ambulance on your way home, you don't think twice before sprinting. Every coughing fit, you wonder is this it? And every night you cant seem to sleep, constantly thinking and thinking and thinking of that one poem that goes,

In all of time,

I wonder how

Many lives I

Will have to

Live, until I

find my way

back to you.

- dj.

[strangedreamings]

S3E4 (spoilers abound)

Portia, Prudence, and Philippa listening at the open door while Debling calls on Pen. The three of them are anything but subtle.

Aww, he gave her a potted plant so she can have nature indoors with her. I hope somebody in this house has a green thumb. He is sweet but he'd better be honest with whoever he ends up marrying about his actual reason for finding a wife.

Has Pen truly given up on Colin? It's sad if that's true.

"I will surely eat all of the biscuits" You mean we FINALLY have an appearance by Colin's bottomless pit of a stomach? It only took what, TWO AND A HALF SEASONS?!

Violet knows when something is up but she also knows a dismissal when she hears one.

Benedict and Lady Tilley. Yeah, she's this season's Siena, though I will say I like her a lot more than I liked Siena (which isn't hard). She won't last but at least they'll be fun to watch while she's around.

Agatha and Marcus. Their dynamic is interesting -- "Do whatever, I'm too busy to get involved." I doubt he'll last beyond S3, but you never know.

"to become the new Marquess Samadani" OH MY FUCKING GOD, SHONDA, YOU DID NOT!!! The wife of a marquess (or a female marquess in her own right) is not called a marquess, but a MARCHIONESS! I know marquess isn't a common title in the British peerage but Shonda, you have access to Wikipedia, FUCKING USE IT!!!

"You read me too well." God, I love Charlotte and Brimsley.

Violet, El, Fran, and the kids are expecting Lord Samadani but Maybe-John has dropped in instead. We'd better learn his name soon, this is driving me nuts.

"John Stirling, Earl of Kilmartin." FUCKING FINALLY!!!! I don't care that his accent is wrong, I love this guy already! Is your cousin Michael in town too, John? Or is he earning his title of the Merry Rake elsewhere?

John and Fran are simply enjoying the silence and the rest of the family is completely baffled, I love it. And here comes Samadani, lovely. John, your timing is awful.

Samadani seems like a nice enough guy, he's just wrong for Francesca.

Love the library, hate Portia's internalized misogyny. I really feel for Cressida now. Can Debling marry her once Colin finally gets his head out of his ass and marries Pen?

I take "revelry" to mean Colin's friends are going whoring and want him to come with, lovely.

Debling is finally being honest? Well, not directly, but still, I'll take it for now. Oh, he's being subtle but he is being direct, got it. Poor Pen, she's torn between the life she wants and a good life that's being offered to her.

Colin with his two ladies again but this time, he's not into it. If you've already paid, Colin, you could've just bid them goodnight and left, you didn't have to stay.

Francesca running into John on the street. These two are a little too quiet for their own good, but I'm sure they'll be fine, maybe with a little help from Violet.

The Cowpers' sitting room has to be the most depressing room on the planet. Lord Cowper's forbidding Cressida from being friends with Eloise? Is it because of Colin? Or Pen? Or maybe he thinks she's putting too much effort into the friendship and not enough into finding a husband. Cressida, I'm guessing you're the same age as Daphne, so I believe that makes you 23 now. You're a legal adult and have been for two years. It would be highly irregular but you could move out of your parents' house. I'm sure the Bridgertons would take you in if Eloise explained everything.

Uh oh, the Mondriches' pub needs saving (again). We'll have another last-minute save by a Bridgerton by the time S3 is over, I'm sure. Frankly, most of the ton can fuck themselves, and that includes Colin's "friends," especially Fife. Pig.

Colin wanting more out of sex is a great sign of both his maturity and him falling in love.

So Debling's serious about proposing to Pen. Poor Pen and poor Cressida.

BTW, I love how the subtitles keep calling the music this season "pensive," it feels like an unintended pun.

For a woman who can't come up with a decent metaphor to save her life, Violet is very wise when it comes to her kids. Oh, she is playing Colin like a fiddle! Go, Violet!

I really like her and Marcus together, he seems like a great guy, though apparently somewhat estranged from Agatha.

Cressida came to Eloise. El really brings out the best in her, something her parents really try to keep hidden. I swear to God, Shonda, if you don't give Cressida a happy ending, I will.

Be careful, Fran, especially with the Queen watching.

Colin has finally outgrown his "friends," halleluiah!

Well, at least Debling bowed out gracefully. And Cressida still has a chance, as slim as it is.

Oh, is this THE carriage scene? Not quite how the book one went but hey, if we get the same outcome, I'm all for it.

Aww, Colin looks like he's about to cry.

"Are you going to marry me or not?" Colin, I could kiss you but I'll leave that to Pen. WE GOT OUR BOOK PROPOSAL!!!

And we don't even get an answer before the episode ends.

Nice cliffhanger, Shonda.

[russellius]

“I feel ready to be world champion,” says George Russell, IWC ambassador, Mercedes driver, and mental health campaigner. “You’ve just got to keep persevering. And sometimes, when you least expect it, that’s when it happens…”

No photoshoot in the history of mankind has ever finished on time. But George Russell’s wrapped up precisely 37 seconds earlier than it needed to. We had two hours with the Mercedes driver in which to do the following: dress him in three rather lovely outfits, get a series of portraits on the streets of Mayfair, shoot a behind-the-scenes video, conduct an in-person interview, travel to Cafe Royal on Piccadilly to host a dinner with IWC Schaffhausen, and conduct a lively panel discussion for 60 devoted Formula One fans. Is there a land speed record for cover shoots? To watch George and his team at work — a multi-part, smoothly-cogged machine of slick synchronicity — is to reach constantly for metaphors: they are like a jaw-droppingly efficient pit crew, perhaps; or the silent, infinitesimally-precise inner-workings of some fine, lovely automatic watch. I’m told that if a falcon watched television, it would assume it was sitting in front of an achingly slow slideshow, such is the processing speed of the bird’s eyes and mind. Before you even get to the on-track heroics — the sheer physical and mental ridiculousness of driving the fastest cars in the world competitively for a living — you sense that George is a falcon on the sofa; eyes profound and heartbeat slow.

It is appropriate that we have been brought together by a watch partner, I say, as we sit across from each other in a quiet room above the IWC flagship on Bond Street. IWC and Mercedes have enjoyed one of the longest heritage partnerships in Formula One, and George says he has been an ardent fan of the ancient, modern marque even before he joined the team in 2022. I comment on how disciplined and millimetric and precise the afternoon has been. Does he think a lot about time? “I’m now recognising how important my own time is, not only on a professional level — racing in an F1 car, where it’s all about the time — but also appreciating how much I value my own time,” he says. “So everything has been planned to the millisecond, which is how I like it.”

It has certainly taken a long time to move this fast. George — 25 years, 4 months, and 22 days old at the time of writing — left school at the age of 14 to pursue his career behind the wheel. All drivers start incredibly young (George was winning karting competitions at seven.) But this must have felt like a bold move in an industry that is precarious at best, brutally competitive throughout, and characterised by sliding-doors moments, quirks of fate, milliseconds that are worth entire careers. Did it feel bold and risky at the time?

“Now I look back at the responsibility it took for [my parents] to make such a bold decision, it couldn’t have been easy,” he says. “I think there are things in school I have missed out on, but there’s also a hell of a lot I’ve learned in life that school couldn’t have taught me. From the ages of 14 to 18, when I was travelling the world racing, I was working with engineers who were thirty or forty years older, and going to dinner with my mechanics who were in their late twenties. That matures you a lot to the world. I feel like I grew up a lot quicker,” he says.

“It also meant I stayed out of trouble. I had people who I grew up at school with who got into a lot of mischief, as a lot of teenagers do, going out partying and drinking. I missed out on that side of social life. Whether that’s a positive or a negative, who knows. But I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.” Either way, at this precise moment, the gamble looks to have paid off. All careers look smoother in hindsight, and George is refreshingly open about the mistakes, stumbling blocks and setbacks that have punctuated the last decade. But the general trend — the Wikipedia trajectory — has been upwards, upwards, upwards: a whistle-stop climb through karting, Renault Formula 2.0, Formula 4, Formula 3, Formula, GP3, Formula 2, and then, finally, the big one.

Again, timing is everything. In 2014, having won the Formula 4 title, a 16-year-old George sent an email to Mercedes team boss Toto Wolff, humbly asking for a meeting and potential future shot at one of those 20 coveted seats. “I didn’t plan it this way, but I sent that email two days after the championship had finished,” says George. “Timing’s exceptionally important. There was a lot of success and happiness [at that moment]; a relaxed environment. Perhaps if I had sent that email three days earlier, it would have just got caught up in that craziness of the race weekend. And perhaps I wouldn’t be sitting here today.”

Does he think those soft skills — the ways of communicating, his clear thoughtfulness, being polite and kind — are useful, in some unsung way, to a driver’s success on the track? “First impressions are very important,” he says. “Maybe if [his first message to Toto] had come across in an arrogant way, I wouldn’t have gotten a reply to that email.” He says the main things he has learned from Wolff and from Lewis Hamilton, his race partner at Mercedes, are all around “being a grounded and humble person,” he says. “It doesn’t matter if you’re the greatest of all time, or you’ve never had any success — you need to be a grounded person, be humble, treat everyone with respect. They’re things that will take you far in life.”

But still, he tells me, “there’s a clear distinction between being a nice guy, a polite guy — but also being a ruthless athlete. It’s about having that respect, charisma and humbleness in certain scenarios — but also about having that that fire when the helmet is on. That’s a very important distinction.”

That fire fueled a successful debut year in a Mercedes car for George. In April 2022, at the Australian Grand Prix, he achieved his first Mercedes podium. In July, in Hungary, he earned his first pole position. And then, in November, at Sao Paulo, George claimed his first Grand Prix victory, holding off Max Verstappen and Kevin Magnussen in an impressive performance. This year, he says, the team has had “some bad luck”, though he has been pleased with his own performance in general. We meet on the Wednesday before the British Grand Prix — always a slightly more pressurised and poignant race for homegrown talent — and there is a sense of calm confidence about the task ahead. When things can be improved, George says, it is important to work smarter, not simply harder. “I could be on the simulator five days a week, putting in even more hours on my driving,” he says. “But it wouldn’t make me faster. Having those days when I can step back and think about things with a more open vision is important. We can be so fixated in our job. Sometimes you miss the obvious.”

Are there two Georges, I ask? An on-track George and an off-track George? “When the helmet is on, you turn into this animal with one goal; extremely driven,” he says. “You have tunnel vision. You’re looking through this visor — it’s as tunnel vision as you can get. Nothing else matters.” But it is sometimes tricky, he says, when that on-track intensity is broadcast, often out of context, to an off-track setting. “It’s a bit challenging, because all the radio messages [from the cockpit to the race team] are broadcasted now,” he says. “The things you say under the highest pressures are scrutinised and broadcast to the world. And that’s a challenging place to be when you’re representing a brand like Mercedes, or IWC, or any of the other amazing brands and partners we have on our race car, and the 2000 people who work for the company. You’re representing more than just yourself — you’re representing thousands and thousands of people, and you want to make them proud on track with your performances. But it’s important not to let people down with actions you do in the heat of the moment, but may regret an hour later.”

The job of an F1 driver has always been unthinkably intense. But it feels much harder for drivers now — in the age of 360 observation, 24-hour coverage, and armchair Twitter critics — than perhaps it was even just 20 years ago, say. The helmet is a goldfish bowl as much as a shield. “Well,” George says, with Falcon-like perspective, “I think it’s a much more intense environment for every single individual on earth now. We’re all scrutinised. Everything we say on social media is being judged. Every photograph a teenager is posting on social media is being judged, idolised, criticised. It’s a brutal world, and I think the larger the profile, the harder that is. It sometimes feels like nobody can do right.  You open your mouth and you will upset somebody.”

That’s why, he says, the emergence of Netflix’s gargantuan hit Drive to Survive has been so refreshing. While it has brought some added pressure in that it’s awoken a new, much wider audience for the sport, it has also allowed the season some necessary breathing room; the context and zoomed-out perspective that the live, magnifying-glass coverage of each weekend often misses.

“It’s broadcast a year later, so there isn’t that initial reaction to a crash, or a comment, or something that’s been said ten minutes after a race has finished,” George says. “Whereas when you’re dealing with the on-site, live media, people have views, reactions, emotions straight away. And that’s why you’re also reserved to speak from the heart, because someone’s going to take offence from it, and it’s going to spiral, and it’s going to cause you pain from reading.” Does he read the Twitter comments? “No.”

That scrutiny, that pressure — and the clear empathy George has for other people of his generation, the first to mature almost entirely under the blazing, distorted gaze of social media — is one of the reasons he began working with Meta on a mental health campaign last year. As the editor of a magazine largely for young-ish men, I can attest that the ‘conversation around male mental health’, as it is so often loftily dubbed, can be waffly and buzzword-y and earnest beyond usefulness — sincere without being serious; optics over actual advice. So I ask George for one clear thing he would say to young people of his age.

“Don’t be afraid to fail,” he says without pausing. “There’s a huge amount of scrutiny upon people to not make mistakes; to try and be a perfect individual. But it’s definitely okay to make mistakes, and to learn from them, and I can just speak from my own experience: my mistakes were the toughest times of my career, but they’re what has defined me as a person — not just as a professional driver, but as an individual. As much as I regret all those mistakes, and wish they didn’t happen, I sit here now and know they’re the things that have defined me.”

Earlier, I had asked George whether, if he could click his fingers now and be crowned instant world-champion, he’d take the accolade; or whether he would want to earn it, graft for it. “You don’t want an easy journey,” he says. “Those who have an easy journey with no failures will always get slipped up in the future at some point. Yes, I feel ready to be world champion. I feel like I’m performing at the highest level I’ve performed. I’m going head-to-head with the greatest driver of all time, and last year was a great season for me. On a personal level I feel like I’m doing a good job. I have faith that everybody gets their opportunity,” he says.

“And yes, I wanted to be world champion yesterday. But unfortunately life doesn’t happen that way. You’ve got to keep persevering. And sometimes when you least expect it, that’s when it happens.” George Russell is moving fast. But he is not in a hurry.

[muse-rising]

How to Name Your Dragon

AKA: How I spent the last hour and a half of my life on something that should be simple and straight-forward. Specifically, this dragon (who is not finished yet):

My new(ish), Solstice-hatched gen 1 with all gem genes and eyes (cries in that's all my current funds).

1. Stare at your dragon in their final state. Try to figure out the vibes they give you. Tip: Use their hatchdate for inspiration. 2. Websearch for names that mean things the dragon makes you think of: names that mean something relevant to the dragon's appearance, theme, or hatchdate. Check out a few of the resulting (usually baby naming) sites that pop up. 3. Write down possibilities as you come across them. I do this in the dragon's bio. 4. Play with some of the names and sounds to try a few of your own creation too. Or combinations of meaningful names. 5. Stare at the dragon's picture some more while trying each name out loud. Pit them against each other to the death. Last name standing wins. 5a. This sometimes involves cross-referencing the meaning of each name because some of these sites are literally just making it up rather than giving you the actual meaning from the actual origin. 6. Do a little spot research on the name source (ie language, fictional work, mythology, and or country of origin. 6a. This sometimes provides inspiration to plop down for creating some lore later. Either way it just makes sense to at least learn a little about the source before you use it. 7. Remember that there was a thematically appropriate pendant or something Galadriel gave Frodo on the whole "Light in the darkness" theme your Solstice dragon has going on.

8. Research Galadriel looking for the name of the thing. 9. Find pretty names and words in that research you might use, research those to see if they're appropriate. 10. Increase your in-depth knowledge of Galadriel and Tolkien's possible folk and myth inspirations on elves as angels. 11. Find what you're looking for and realize that name's not right. 12. End up researching Luthien/Tinuviel (forgot how I got here lol) to learn a little more about her than just the basics. 13. Realize while you like the meaning of "nightingale" for your dragon, Tinuviel doesn't seem to really suit them. 14. Check Silmarils just in case they might yield a gem or two and because you're only aware of the basics. 15. Go back to nightingale. Look up more names that mean nightingale. 16. Cross reference those in case the source is making things up. 17. Highlight the Latin "Luscinia" from nightingale wikipedia. It's a good one. 18. Research the symbolism of nightingale for both lore inspiration and verification it suits the dragon meaning-wise. 19. Read a pretty line by a poet named Percy Shelley. 20. Look him up before officially quoting it in the bio to make sure he's not a horrible creep. 21. Discover he was into political justice and free love way before the US went wild for it in the 60s and 70s and was an atheist in a time that got him shunned for it. 22. Read about his love affair and eventual marriage to Mary Godwin - wait...wouldn't that make her Mary Shelley. 23. Realize this poet is the same poet you knew Mary Shelley had married. 24. Read more about Mary Shelley while you're at it because while you know some of it, it's from an episode of Dr. Who primarily and you're curious about some of the things brought up in Percy Shelley's wikipedia. 25. Write a post about how it took you WAY too much of your life to pick a name. In my defense, I learned a whole lot tonight about a lot of random things. Even more if you count the hour and a half before that where I spent naming a different dragon and learning a bunch of stuff about Azerbaijani, Iran, Persia. + their modern and historical views of queer people. and the Ghost Busters universe/timeline.

Final name for the pictured dragon: Luscinia (Latin name for nightingale - which etymologically could mean "Little seen (as in the twilight) singer" or even "famous singer." Might also be "Little understood singer" referring to the mystery of their nightsong. Oh! 26. Remember that somewhere in there included research into the Greek language for many other names and in what order they tend to use adjectives+nouns. Also Circe, Callisto, and Kalliope research. My brain is full of learning. Azerbaijani/Ghost Busters research-prompting dragon was named Zulejxa. A day later: 27. Remember you also did a bunch of reading up on Amaryllis flowers both in general and according to flower language.

[kindheart525]

Mobid question here, how do Killer!Iolite's victims die?

Ngl I’m not a very morbid person (hence why I had to do so much research on horror tropes to write this AU because I had no knowledge of my own) but I still thought this was a fascinating question so I had @frostcorpsclub help me come up with the deaths!

I know more characters die than what’s listed here, but I decided to go with the major ones.

Trigger warning for mentions of gore, hanging, choking, eye trauma, decapitation, and generally torturous and horrific deaths

Obsidian: In a chase, her signature pink hair bow is unraveled/caught on something and Iolite uses shadow magic to hang her with it. It looks like an accident until looked into further.

Polished Antique: Iolite pushes him into his own family’s vault where he's crushed by tons of bits (a la Scrooge McDuck)

Brackish: Gets trapped and submerged in a pit of grain*, a fate that’s incredibly dry for somepony who devoted his life to being a swimmer and making mares w-

Saltwater Taffy: Iolite kills her with a curse; every time she says a bad word against another creature, her throat fills up with crystal. She’s killed as she tears into Iolite for killing her family members, choking on crystal shards and her own blood.

Erudite Spell: Having died alongside Taffy, he is afflicted with a similar curse, which also causes fatal crystal growths. It affects his hooves so he can't run for help, and his horn upon which the crystals grow down and slowly blind him, stabbing his eyes and penetrating his brain.

Rainier: Iolite captures him and keeps him around in a secret place (like Summer) because he actually gives good emotional advice and there's a tiny, tiny, tiny glimmer of her true self inside him. She curses him with a fate akin to bamboo torture*, except instead of bamboo it’s an apple tree that’s growing inside of and slowly hilling him. It’s the slowest and most agonizing death of all of them. It also parallels the trees that his grandparents once planted to symbolize their love, but with an extremely horrific and dark twist.

Crash Racket: Iolite decapitated him and put his head on a pike, which she showed to Summer to torture her. “Is this the type of head that was worth breaking my heart over, Summy?”

Summer Beauty: I’ve described it before but I felt it would be fitting to put the description here too. Iolite put a curse on her so that the instant she is killed, Summer will “self-destruct” and turn into a lifeless crystal statue, much like the famed Crystal Empress Amore. Through this, Iolite has ensured that Summer cannot live without her.

Iolite: She tears her wings in a hoof-to-hoof battle with Yngvlid before falling into a crystal pit where her heart is pulled straight from her body.

BONUS Crystal Family: They all die in a very Romanov-like fashion where they’re locked in a basement together and Iolite and (mind-controlled) Aurora fire shots at them. Yes, including the little filly.

*The links are to Wikipedia articles; no videos or graphic photographs.

[eggtrolls]

my enemies are working against me; I was strongly tempted by dark forces to make a completely nuance-free statement like "dear christ I hate the wiki education foundation so fucking much it's such a terrible idea" but instead I will be SO strong and make a post with way too much nuance about a niche step in the sausage-making of wikipedia

backstory: when the world was young in like...2010, some wunderkind realized college students use wikipedia for their classes, ergo college students in classes can be harnessed en masse to be use FOR wikipedia! if you're taking a class on, say, the Punic Wars, wouldn't it be an excellent educational experience to teach others (via wikipedia) about the Punic Wars to develop your own research and academic (okay, academic in tone) writing abilities! the kids will contribute! wikipedia gets a new crop of editors who HAVE to do this unlike the rest of us morons editors who voluntarily toil under the endless wheel of the open internet! yeah!

and that's not like. the WORST idea I've ever heard, for all that it's not really a good one. Because on the surface, there are a lot of similarities to writing a humanities-esque college paper and a wikipedia article. you are assigned a topic; you research the existing scholarship; you compile a bibliography and summarize the relevant literature IN YOUR OWN WORDS; your sentences are cited, your perspectives are balanced, and you check your bias (as much as you can) at the door.

two major, one minor (but no less annoying), issues with this :

(major) wikipedia editing is not the same as college essay writing. for one thing, coordinated editing in groups on one topic like this is uhhhhh strongly discouraged on wikipedia because it's very fucking easy for a cliche of editors to make massive changes and sideline other editors who disagree with them. wiki editing is an iterative process where articles are refined and improved in the forges of a Socratic circle of topic-proficient grammar nerds.

(major) a lot of you are really bad writers!!! you are not good at writing at a college level on the first go and, as far as I can tell, none of you are using the blessed Sandbox feature that every single registered editor gets in order to test and try out the big, blocks of text edits y'all are adding to these shivering, unsuspecting articles who are getting t-boned by 19 year olds adding sentences that are just comma splices on comma splices.

(minor but lol it's the largest one because I'm petty) the rest of the editorial corps of wikipedia, to say nothing of the READERS, who are unaware of that this fuckery is ongoing, are not in your college class. I'm not taking Fall 2024 ENG 2201 at [Random Ass] University and the articles that I keep an eye on didn't sign up to be shoddily edited by a bunch of novices who have no understanding of, let alone respect for, (among other things) the Wikipedia Manual of Style, editing norms and best practices, how to not plagiarize whole-cloth, and how not to regurgitate propaganda. the rest of the internet is not standing still while you make unsourced claims about dead Emirati sheikhs being "visionary leaders" with references from Emirati governmnet websites. no!!!! there's never enough oversight from the professors and Wiki Ed Foundation people and then when I undo most of the shit-tier edits they're like ummm hi sweaty sorry but I'm reverting you (triple-revert-undo-block guideline violation but go off I guess) so I can see my students' edits for their grade (despite the fact that the history features keeps a record of every single edit) sooooo yeah just leave this horseshit on Hedy Lamarr's internet for 8 weeks until the semester is over :) and I'm like no. die perhaps.

'so why does wikipedia keep doing this if the student editors suck so much donkey dick' - again, a few main reasons.

I'm bitter rn because I've been dealing with a particularly stupid batch of student editors editing particularly badly. most of them are much better and have supervision so they can't suck THAT badly. it's generally an overall benefit to have anyone edit....ever. so this is still a positive, either from the edit itself or that it prompts other editors to go take a look at what these kids are doing and clean up both the new mess and the preexisting mess that has been stagnant since 2012.

WIKIPEDIA NEEDS NEW EDITORS SO BADLY. you know how the premise of Game of Thrones is that there's all this seemingly really important but in fact petty fighting happening between the houses or w/e but the actually, huge issue is the ice zombies about to fuck shit up? people are freaking out about ChatGPT and other LLMs but the reality is that won't matter very much if there's no one to do the actual editing. Wikipedia is STARVING for editors as people move on, get older, get new responsibilities, get fed up with bullshit, sometimes die, etc. multiple college classes of dozens of students (worldwide! so doubly great if it helps with countering the American/Western-centric bias!) who are under 25 is like a blood infusion for a hemophiliac to Wikipedia. I cannot emphasize enough for much they (we) want YOU to go edit. I will help you, I will take your hand. they want you, personally. and imho that's why there's the willingness to put up with these pretty solidly mediocre editors - the odds that one or two per every 50 will stay and turn into a relatively active editor.

[headgehug]

streetlight manifesto: a comprehensive review*

*of one album

streetlight manifesto (SM) is an American ska band founded in New Jersey in 2002, consisting of several members of other musical collectives, such as Catch 22 and Bandits of the Acoustic Revolution. alright i'm done summarizing their wikipedia page. i just learned those things. let's review the album Somewhere in the Between (2007).

1. We Will Fall Together

physically impossible to start off stronger than this! the band is made up of so much talent, several members being former orchestra members, etc. WWFT is sort of your summary for the overarching themes of struggling with religion and fear of death.

If you listen to nothing else from this list, listen to this one! the brass is incredibly sexy (I say brass instead of being specific because there's horns, and trombone, and saxophone.. i mean it's kind of everything and i have a hard enough time telling the difference), the bass is simply devious, and the times it focuses on just guitar are so clever.

not to mention the lyrics! this song in particular is a sort of fuck you, when we go down, it'll be together, with those of us we trust and love.

And when we fall we will fall together No one will catch us so we'll catch ourselves

and in the face of a religion that is in practice only violent and threatening, when things seem this hopeless

They're coming after all of us with everything they've got With the fury of a soldier who will answer to his God So how will we fight? All we have is logic and love on our side

anyways! WWFT is simply maddening in its perfection. it's a rally, it's a war cry, it's a warm embrace in the dark. and how could the rest of the album possibly hold a candle to it? (somehow, it can)

2. Down, Down, Down To Mephisto's Cafe

this one starts out as if it's angsty 90s grunge, but oh, this is no Creep, this is no 1979. we're not lamenting loss of belief and alienation here, we're riding a sick bass line down to hell :)

I will say that in an album that is just so fast, the slower start can be a little jarring, but we're early on, and it's for a good cause, so it doesn't particularly bother me! especially not when we have such hard-hitting lyrics such as:

Someone shouted "Everything's for nothing" (Somebody shouted, "All is lost") But I can't buy that nonsense too

Even in the pits of despair, ostracism for one's lack of belief, facing the idea that there is nothing after this life, perhaps, everything is not for nothing.

This is a fun song in the same way Keasby Nights by Catch 22 is a fun song ("My my my how the time does fly when you know you're gonna die by the end of the night!" is so revitalizing to repeat over and over), because that whatever we're all gonna die, let's do a kickflip about it mentality is awesome, but the emphasis on love and kinship and atheistic morality is so, so important also.

Give 'er a listen here

3. Would You Be Impressed?

AGAIN! you would not think things could get any better after those two. Yet the song opens up with a fresh sound, grittier vocals, and a darker tone. the horns in particular are so eerily announcing... something. and with the song's condemnation of apathy, of cruelty and of detachment from the world, judgement day may not be too far off base.

the song progresses, proclaiming various horrors in the world, from "it's not my fault" to "it's all my fault," the former in protest of responsibility, the latter in stark realization once it's too late. well, that gets pretty dark, but the song itself is absolutely wild.

4. One Foot On the Gas, One Foot in the Grave

well, it was inevitable in an album full of 10s. OFOTG,OFITG is a solid 9 :/ if only because of the slow start, again! if this was your average mid 2000s pop punk/indie rock album, it would be par for the course, but this is ska, and so there's kind of a high demand for your music to be thoroughly adhd.

that being said, we do pick up speed relatively fast, and it's a plucky consideration of questioning one's ingrained beliefs. give it a whirl if you so please

5. Watch it Crash

oh boy, are we back to the 10s. we have some of the most rhythm guitar heavy moments in the intro, and it so suits the desperation and resignation of the lyrics:

It said "We can't just blame it on our mothers Claim everything they did was always wrong" And there ain't no turning back, when our train is off its track And there's nothing we can do but watch it crash

the resounding, nearly ironic cry for "Mercy, mercy me!" paired with this sort of watching it all burn feeling is so real? there's always a cloying desire for the security that religion offers, that there's some force watching out for you. and it can be hard knowing there's not.

but! at least we have watch it crash. listen to it :)

6. Somewhere in the Between

this is THE epitome of that thing that's like, emo/punk/goth is when life sucks and you ___ about it, and ska is off to the side like life sucks but we got a fucking sax solo! doot doot doot

We have an absolutely joyous brass riff throughout this song about how we are all going to die.

Maybe the times we had, they weren’t that bad And everything else was part of our path We sang: “I don’t know where we go from here” This is the anthem, the slogan, the summary of events And we all just idealize the past So you were born, and that was a good day Someday you’ll die, and that is a shame But somewhere in the between was a life of which we all dream And nothing and no one will ever take that away

not only that, but this quivering, sensual instrumental in the middle-- how's that for something amazing in the between? this song is a masterpiece honestly. like-- yeah!

7. Forty Days

once again-- how could you top SitB? well, with Forty Days. we've got this sultry, swinging riff opening a song about the haunting creep of past sins.

with regards to the vocals, i get a Mad Caddies vibe from this song, just with the way the singers sound. a little rough, discernibly edgy.

These lines are kickers:

What a way to begin, we inherit sin

the christian belief that we inherit sins from our ancestors, and that we are born into a sin that can only be cleansed by belief-- well what if you don't believe?

I've tasted seven sins, so they won't let me in I knock knock knock until my knuckles are bruised and raw Stuck in the middle with my blood in a puddle on the floor We made our beds, we'll judge ourselves

I love this set of lines for its rebellion, the "no one can judge me but me" attitude, the knowledge that one's lust for life will be one's eternal downfall.

What a waste! So many decent people at the gates

and when we all get to heaven- the challenging of traditional religious morality, the idea that a perfectly good person could be turned away for lack of belief.

and then while you contemplate all of this, we have a pleasantly clean but complex guitar solo. anyways, it's a must listen, i think.

8. The Blonde Lead the Blind

and we're back to cheerful ska riffs :)

this is a fairly stand-alone song, and can be about popular culture leading those who subscribe to it, or about religion and its affect on those who subscribe to it... well i guess they're both fads, aren't they?

the chorus is delightfully rebellious:

Did you lose faith? Yes, I lost faith in the powers that be But in doing so I came across the will to disagree And I gave up, yes I gave up and then I gave in But I take responsibility for every single sin

let's take a moment to wax poetic about the skill of this band, yes? let me be a hater for just a split second and say that it's a little disappointing to hear so much popular music that doesn't ooze musical talent. it absolutely requires technique and expertise far above my comprehension, but i kind of like to just hear a song where i know the people are ridiculously talented... like yeah these guys are Professional Musicians. okay i'm done lol. TBLTB here

9. The Receiving End of it All

i believe this song references the fact that SM was robbed not once, but twice on their tours of Europe... hence "That motherfucker, he took everything we had"... well considering the other lyrics, it's probably not that, but this is a fun and essential SM fact. no, i don't have any others. just preaching for the album lol.

this song stands alone just a bit, in that it's about a failed relationship. it may or may not relate to the themes of religious separation throughout the rest of the album. it does, however, go very hard.

10. What a Wicked Gang are We

any instrument that can trill is brrrilliant in my book, and this song therefore does not disappoint at all. This is the final track on the album, and holds the position well. it's a biting address towards America as a whole, evidenced by the use of "Tis of Thee" like, as in, "my country".

I mean, in that regard, it's nothing particularly unusual though, just about how the political class is running this country into the ground... pretty standard stuff in the punk sphere?

however, it does wrap the album up quite well. shifting the focus from religion and fear of death towards something that we can control is so smart, relevant in 2007 and unfortunately still relevant now! it's so terribly easy to get depressed in the wake of all this, but do please remember. at least we have killer sax solos.

to sum it up: yeah good album . i'd say more but tumblr is groaning under the weight of all my links. sure hope this posts.

[mitchipedia]

How Cory Doctorow uses browser tabs for productivity superpowers

Cory defends lifehacking, which “is in pretty bad odor these days, and with good reason: a once-useful catch-all for describing how to make things easier has become a pit of productivity porn, grifter hustling, and anodyne advice wreathed in superlatives and transformed into SEO-compliant listicles.” But at its core, lifehacking is just a collection of little tricks that help people be more productive.

He links to his notes from a 2004 talk by Danny O’Brien: “Life Hacks: Tech Secrets of Overprolific Alpha Geeks”.

O’Brien’s inspiration was his social circle, in which people he knew to be no smarter or better or motivated than anyone else in that group were somehow able to do much more than their peers, in some specific domain. O’Brien delved deeply into these peoples' lives and discovered that each of them had merely (“merely!") gotten very good at using one or two tools to automate things that would otherwise take up a lot of their time.

These “hacks” freed up their practitioners to focus on things that mattered more to them.

… everyone who created a little hack was faintly embarrassed by it, and assumed that others who learned about their tricks would find them trivial or foolish. O’Brien changed the world by showing that other people were, in fact, delighted and excited to learn about their peers' cool little tricks.

(Unfortunately, this eventually opened the floodgates of overheated posts about some miraculous hack that turned out to indeed be silly and trivial or even actively bad, but that wasn’t O’Brien’s fault!)

Cory notes that he is a pretty productive fellow himself, having written nine books during lockdown. And he shares a couple of his little tricks.

One of them is having “a group of daily tabs that I open in a new browser every morning. The meat of this tab group is websites I want to check in with every day, either because they don’t have RSS feeds, or because I want to make sure I never miss an update.”

These include news and opinion websites, Wikipedia pages whose edits he is watching, and also personal finance and ecommerce sites.

I do something similar: I have three folders of tabs: One I open multiple times daily, another that I also open multiple times daily, but less often than the first group, and a third that I open 1x/day. I call them, imaginatively enough, “First,” “Second” and “Daily.” The first group is social media replies, the second group is social media streams, and the third group has more social streams, Discord channels and one or two blogs that have lousy or nonexistent RSS feeds.

Tabs, like lifehacks, are also in bad odor. Everyone stresses about how many tabs they have open…. But this is a very different way to think about tabs. Rather than opening a window full of tabs that need your detailed, once-off attention later, this method is about using groups of tabs so that you can pay cursory, frequent attention to them.

I find RSS, newsletters and daily tab groups do the same job, enable me to check on a couple of hundred websites daily in very little time. I currently use the NewsBlur RSS reader, which is also a great place to read newsletters. (If you don’t like NewsBlur, my friend Barbara Krasnoff writes up five good RSS readers.)

Also:

My little tab habit is so incredibly useful, such a powerful way to seize back time and power from powerful actors who impose burdens on me, that I sometimes forget how, for other people, tabs are a symptom of a life that’s spiraling out of control. For me, a couple hundred tabs are a symbol of a couple hundred tasks that I’m totally on top of, a symbol of control wrestled back from others who are hostile to my interests.

Cory talks about how tabs are an example of “generative” technology—innovations that users implement in ways that were unanticipated by people who developed technology.

It occurs to me that a reason I love the Obsidian documents app is that it’s an example of “generative” technology. I use Obsidian in weird ways that don’t seem to be the designers’ intent, but it works well for me—and I think that actually is part of the designers’ intent.

[oxbridge-scribbles]

For Innumerable Stars 2022

Prompt by BloodwingBlackbird for the character group "Farmer Maggot's Dogs & Oromë"

Inspired by the Strength card from the Rider–Waite Tarot deck and an abundance of existential terror. More after the jump.

(Fish's note--Noodle didn't quite finish this note before life intervened but says that the gist of it is here. Having listened to endless moaning about this for the past two months, I can confirm.)

----------------------

I probably intermittently screamed for about half an hour when I saw this character group nestled amongst other (ostensibly) more... approachable groups, but I like to suffer, so I sorrowfully set aside my draft of a M*A*S*H* pastiche set in the Houses of Healing and went on a journey through the gurgling bowels of the internet.

Eventually, I somehow stumbled on the Strength card from the Rider-Waite deck:

"Ah," I said to myself sagely after reading precisely half a Wikipedia article, "Yes."

The Strength card depicts a lion and a woman with a lemniscate (infinity symbol) over her head. Some cards place the woman in a more explicit position of power, while others simply have them cuddling and the like.

Wikipedia says that A. E. Waite says that this card is associated with "power, energy, action, courage, magnanimity; also complete success and honours" while, when reversed, it is associated with "despotism, abuse of power, weakness, discord, sometimes even disgrace."

"Tulkas," I mumbled feverishly, "Melkor. Trees."

Sluggishly, I plumbed Google for some inspiration on Farmer Maggot's dogs. I emerged from that dark road with nothing but their names, which I promptly forgot.

"That lion looks like a hairy dog," I said, "And sure, let's make Oromë genderously ambiguous and worry about everything else later."

Oromë, along with most of the Valar, have always felt a little sinister to me, so the initial plan was to draw Oromë smilingly slitting lion-dog's throat, with the corpses of Nahar and the other two dogs lying around in the foreground. When I proposed this to my dog-loving friend, he stopped just short of attempting to execute me, but it was a near thing.

"But dogs," I pleaded, "Hunting. Death."

"No," he replied.

Defeated, I returned to the internet for inspiration. In the pits of delirium, I stumbled upon this Wikipedia article about Sköll, a wolf that supposedly spends its time chasing the sun.

"Wolves are basically dogs, but hairier," I declared.

From there my fate was sealed. I'm not a fan of hair in general, so Oromë was given a skull to wear, and I made some half-hearted attempts at mushrooms.

As the Strength card is the eighth card in the eight card in the Rider-Waite deck, I had the brilliant idea to substitute an eight-rayed sun for the Roman numerals at the top. Suddenly, I had a draft.

Another early idea I'd had was to show Oromë being hunted by the three dogs, but that didn't seem to fit with the general theme of "Oromë, the magnanimous despot" I was going for, so I nixed it. I did want to have some sort of theme of vengeance, however, so the sköll-dog emerged from a blackened tree, which I imagined to be the withered remains of Laurelin (or even just your run-of-the-mill dead tree) to suggest the role of the Valar in the Darkening.

Time passed. Things got more dramatic. Sköll-dog became a limbless dragon-dog. I became geographically confused, found myself in Japan, and then the sun tragically lost both sunglasses and rays. Lion-dog became problematic. I helpfully forgot Nahar existed.

Eventually, I lost my mind, gave lion-dog a mushroom infection, and decided to digitally burn out the ugliest tree I have ever drawn in my life.

I'm going to take a nap now.

[beepofsleeplessdreams]

thinking out loud about some anime an illustrator i like worked on

so, one of my favorite illustrators (at least, I think that's the right term for him) is yoshitoshi ABe. recently i made the decision to look through a bunch of projects he had a hand in, mostly because i wanted to see what kind of stuff he'd attached himself to over the decades. prior to this i'd only seen Serial Experiments Lain, but i feel like basically everyone's seen that so that's not saying much lol. this was partially spurred on by a friend of mine telling me Texhnolyze was among their favorites. at time of writing, i've finished Texhnolyze and NieA_7, and i'm watching Haibane Renmei on-and-off and loving it. the world is bizarre and beautiful, and the character designs are lovely and have so much personality in my eyes. so that's where i started. so below is a series of rambles and thoughts i've had on this little journey of mine up to this point. i've still got a ways to go.

misc. spoilers for Texhnolyze in the next section

texhnolyze was a show i really enjoyed, but falls into the same pit as serial experiments lain in my brain. i struggle to understand what it's trying to say below the immediate surface and i end up primarily enjoying it as a surface-level product. not to say that i didn't make some connections in my head along the ride, i have so many questions about the world that i want answered, and some really fun observations I made. ichise's conversation with the voice in the chair was something that i had a lot of fun picking apart because it tickled that little goblin in my brain that loves social science. with the whole idea that height relates to authority, the pile of stones bringing images of gods on mountains in myth, but the chair tying all that powerful imagery up in this idea of boredom. apathy of the gods and all that. the entire trip to the surface is something that had me on the edge of the seat, and kinda tied into my greater sci-fi brainrot. that whole idea that one a society stagnates and rots people seek "better times", and this is how you end up with so many space prussians/germans being bad guys in older sci-fi anime like classic gundam and legend of the galactic heroes. it's people clinging to an idea of a """better time""" to larp that they're better than they are. this is what was going through my head during the arc of the story on the surface, whenever i saw that outdated technology that lives only in old b&w movies and period pieces. despite these obversations, i feel like i can't formulate a big picture, this is by no means bad, but i can't help but feel like i'm "missing something". though, this might be rectified in lain's case when i get around to it, it's been close to 10 years since i last watched it.

misc. spoilers for NieA_7

this is one that i don't think i ever heard someone talk about prior to me just plucking it off of ABe's wikipedia page. it's this weird slice-of-life comedy about living in poverty but there's also humanoid aliens that are kinda just around and comically failing to integrate into society. that whole second point, with the aliens, i feel it kinda detracts from a lot from the show's actually really simple and touching heart about just trying to escape being poor. the whole thing is kinda tainted with this mild xenophobia for the sake of "comedy" and the vast majority of the recurring aliens are these really mean-spirited racist stereotypes. eventually i came to ignore the vast majority of that aspect of the show, besides the titular NieA, and focus on the part of it that really spoke to me. the main character, Mayuko, is a young adult working 3 jobs on top of going to cram school in a desperate attempt to get into a good college and escape poverty by getting a """real job""" and a """future""". the reason why i use quotations is the same reason why her character really spoke to me. she was so focused on the mere act of survival and vaguely working towards the future that she never found the time to really think about the future. no plans, no dreams, inching towards a success she has no idea how to capitalize upon. something similar happened to me, personally. i spent the vast majority of highschool and college fighting for good grades and accolades with no other plan than to just get away from a very toxic family situation. and i succeeded. i gave up a social life for the sake of advancing and was rewarded by getting poached right out of college into a fairly comfortable. i moved out 6 months later and subsequently broke down. without that constant pressure of ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE i had this sort of psychological explosive decompression and became incredibly depressed, and almost made some very poor and very permanent decisions. i saw a character that was flying towards the same mistakes i made and i was wondering all along if the show would propose some kind of "solution" that i'd failed to see. it didn't offer anything concrete, but something much simpler that i nontheless really appreciated. a loving promise that things will be okay somewhere, someday. the same sentiment helped me when i needed it. i get that that's corny as hell, but i'm a stupid mushy man-thing. it's a show i really recommend people look at, because while the lows are INCREDIBLY low and mean, the heart is there and beautiful.

[wellntruly]

Hello! I just made an account specifically to ask where the rest of your Babylon Berlin recaps are! They have been my lifeline watching this show for the first time on my own! 😂 I feel like I’m reading my own brain it’s incredible! Although you know much more about German expressionism etc than I do (which is little to nothing but that will change bc I have a library and a half saved on Wikipedia right now!)

Oh yay!

But also, I am so sorry!

I need to figure out how to convey this information more reliably, because this keeps happening and every time I’m like, oh noo. Could you please let me know how are you getting to my Babylon Berlin posts? Because I had thought anyone reading /chrono through my Babylon Berlin Blogging tag would just in natural progression see what happened, but you are certainly not, as you will see, the first person who has not. But it was Covid and I was having a very hard time.

May 1, 2020, someone asked when I was going to keep writing, and then again just a week later someone else asked, aannd then this was actually when I finally turned off anon on my inbox, because, and I’ve never mentioned this before because it feels very, you know, There Are Real Problems, but at the time this really sent me into a pit of mud: I then got another anonymous ask to my responses that I'd tried so hard to make as fun and breezy yet clear about my struggling as I could, while feeling very exposed and tender and distressed about it because I loved that show and the lockdown depression was taking it from me, that was like, inconsiderate of you to ask me to be considerate of you feeling bad when I feel bad too, except meaner, I specifically remember the message literally concluded with "whatever, have a nice life," and I was like, Wow. And somehow it felt even more demoralizing and unfair that I was having to deal with these sort of asks when before this, those S3 recaps had been so much quieter than my earlier Babylon Berlin writing, those posts were only getting all of 12 notes on average, and not even from these people, because I knew all 12 of them!

Not anonymously anymore, but I've then continued over the last couple years to keep intermittently getting innocently well-meaning questions from people still apparently not seeing the posts in my tag, and to confess, most of those asks I've just quietly deleted in despair, though occasionally I'll work up enough false optimism to make vague cheery promises, like most recently in April 2022. But the sorry fact is, I haven't been able to go back and finish writing about Season 3 because, and this depresses me so much, but whenever I think about picking back up again this show I love so deeply, I still recall all the guilt and sadness and resentment around when I had to stop writing about it partway into the third season, and I just feel, rather low again.

Sorry that this answer is so sad! :( Please try not to feel bad for asking, I've kept my own counsel on much of this specifically to avoid that, but this approach does not seem to be working, because people keep asking and my heart just keeps dropping.

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

Top underrated/underappreciated videogames?

This is an AWESOME ask, and even though I'm a terrible judge of what's considered underrated; let me SEE.

IN no particular order:

1. Puzzle Quest: Challenge of the Warlords for PS2.

Developer: DS3 Publisher

Release: 13th November 2007 (I was 16, fun fact!)

Wikipedia Summary:

Nate's Play:

 I played the game a lot in high school. It's far more addictive than it initially appears. While I forget who my character was, if I find the right save space and memory card, I'll take some photos and add them to the post. I remember more than one insomnia night filled with my tiny CRT tv and PS2 with the lowest volume possible while playing this for hours. Granted, I only had like, 4 games as it was, but I'm pretty sure I purchased this game at Future Shop myself. Which does not even exist anymore.

Rest in Peace, Future Shop. (1982-2015). You might've merged with Best Buy, but you were to good for them.

As a result, this game was one of those things associated with incredibly specific memories and long nights accompanying my lonely teenage self.

Life happened, and then maybe just over a decade later, I booted it back up, found my character and completed the game entirely. As if years of not playing it hadn't mattered at all.

Maybe you're not underrated, Puzzle Quest. But you're special to me.

Although it seems the UK got the cooler cover!

Version I got.

UK Version.

And look! My real copy!

I post this on 'Rate My Set Up' and get roasted into oblivion.

And look more! My characters! I have 2 more but Tumblr is being ridiculous.

Achroma here is who I beat the game with, be nice to him <3

2. Choice of Games and Hosted Games

Developer: Various Independent Developers

Platform: Mobile

Release: On-going, continual.

Nate’s Play:

Yes, I’m talking about *gasp* mobile games here. But they are I’m told also available on Steam.

These two platforms are host to text-based choose your own adventure games that I am very fond of. Some I have more fun with than others, some I was disappointed by, and some I don’t like at all. But they’re from a variety of creators, engaging and entertaining. Some also include art now.

My Library in Choice of Games

My Library in Hosted Games

If you enjoy reading, character creation and something without a lot of hassle, I highly recommend these. While most are free to play (with ads) I tend to purchase the ones I like. Not one of them has ever been pricier than 12 dollars. Well worth it, in my opinion.

3.  Yakuza: Dead Souls (Ryu ga Gotoku of the End)

Developer: RGG Studios. Sega

Platform: PS3

Release:  9th June, 2011 (Japan, 2012 in NA and EU)

Fandom Wiki Summary:

Nate’s Play

Look, it’s not underrated in the fandom, and the controls are a hot mess. But the game gives you so much GREATNESS that it’s so hard not to just have fun with.

Ryuji is back with a GATLING GUN ARM AND A TAKOYAKI STAND.

Majima reacts to the Zombie apocalypse by having the time of his life.

AKIYAMA LOOKS LIKE THIS

credit: @essence-of-armbarring

and LAUNCHES THE BAD GUY INTO THE ZOMBIE PIT FROM A HELICOPTER

Haruka is cute and sweet, the game has it’s own unique cast members never seen in the main series and is just a wild ride the whole time.

THE GAME BROUGHT HANA CHAN BACK (Links to gifset)

KIRYU GETS A GUN THAT FUCKIN LOOKS LIKE AN ANTI MATERIAL RIFLE

DAIGO at, pretty much all times let’s be honest here.

Does a zombie apocalypse in my crime game make sense? No? Do I care? Not a lick. It’s a fun, wild ride. And it brought Ryuji back, I need to do a replay.

The only Yakuza game where the characters adopt Daigo’s idea of ‘fuck it, we all get guns’ ideology (Kiryu does take an entire third of the game before deciding ‘kill the zombies’ is acceptable tho, so that’s in character) and shoot.

4. Sherlock Holmes: Crimes and Punishments

Developer: Frogwares Ireland Ltd

Platform: PS4

Release: 2014

PS Store Summary:

Nate’s Play:

I downloaded and bought this on a deep seated craving need for a mystery game (I love those so much guys pls rec mystery games). Might not be a master class in development and it did end up with the occasional glitch from time to time but I had a good time playing it.

It’s not the most perfect game, but it wasn’t taxing, the puzzles were varied and engaging and I had a good time with it.

Could’ve run a bit smoother over all, but it never ruined the games for me and I enjoyed my time playing.

5. I can’t think of anything now so I’m going to flip this and go on a random rant about Vampire the Masquerades single player games.

I am aware that the series began as a TTRPG and maybe it’s better when played that way, but I’ve played a few of the single player versions in the app I mentioned above (Choice of Games) and I purchased *but disliked* the PS4 versions. Not ‘disiked’ as in ‘the worst games ever’ but in the ‘after each one of these I am largely disappointed and Swansong was so full of glitches it became unplayable and whydidIspend70bucksonthis ANYWAY

It’s odd to me that a series so about embracing the fun of being a vampire just..does not enjoy doing that? I understand the Camarilla and how you’re meant to be discrete and the entire concept being fly under the radar, or question the corrupt overarching power house but I every one of the VtM games I’ve payed through hasn’t really made that..engaging?

You have some *limited* choices, and you feel actively punished for being a vampire even if you never choose to do anything ‘exciting’ and obey your cloaked overlords. I’ve tried versions of playing as the outcast or rogue groups, but the games never seem to allow for me getting as..idk, vampiric or brutal as I might want? I’m a creature of the night. I don’t want to attend bureaucratic nonsense I want to have fun being a morally questionable blood sucker.

ANYWHO, I thank you for this awesome ask and I am (ok not really) sorry it got so long and rambling!