#why have i characterised him as such a bottom when i want him to fold me like a playing card? truly a mystery.

[prettyoatmeal]

Hey there! I'm new to your work, but I love reading through it so much. I don't know if it's already been done, but could you do a part two of the pegging request with a few of the others (ex: König, Keegan, Roach, Alejandro, etc.)? I notice you do a lot of 141, so I didn't know if you wrote others. Just thought I'd ask. ^^

CoD Charatcers and How They'd React to Reader Asking to Peg Them (König, Keegan, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria)

Warning!! nsfw, mdni, pegging, afab reader in mind using a strap, heavy dom/sub tropes, slight exhibitionism. A/N: Honestly, I'm surprised I didn't write one for König, but his time is now.. then plus some. Hi guys!! Its nice to see you again after a month (????)!!!

Part 2 to this.

Masterlist here!

***************

König I think would just be super confused at first. Not because he's against it, but because he's never thought about it before and is genuinely curious why and you'd find pleasure in that. He's supposed to be doing the fucking..? Why are you...? ...?!?!?!? And he's just scratching his head. But nevertheless, he agrees because he thinks he'd enjoy it though he can't help but be a little embarrassed because he's getting folded in half by his smaller partner.

Unlike Gaz or Soap, you'd need to be very gentle with him. He's a little bit tense when starting out. The lube is cold, the feeling of your fingers in him is unfamiliar, he wasn't used to bottoming like this. But he trusts you, so he isn't against spreading his legs for you.

Very quickly becomes very whiney once you start hitting against that perfect spot inside him. You feel him jolting a little, letting out a gasp and you know you got it.

His thighs squeeze around your sides, calves resting along your hips as you thrust into him with your bright pink strap. You thought it would've been awkward, not expecting the size difference and power difference to combine well, but it did. He keeps you close, his lips on yours at all times until he eventually buries his face into you neck only to moan and whine and cry into your skin.

All in all, it's sweet. He was definitely taken aback with just how much he enjoyed it, craving more and more from you.

"Schatz, p-please. Need more."

So you do the ol' reliable, placing a pillow under his hips, angling your hips just right. And it begins to drive him crazy. His pretty eyes roll back, his lips parted as he moans out your name over and over and over again like a mantra. His cock leaking like a faucet, his tip an angry red and begging for attention, a shiny layer of sweat covering both of you as your hips slap against his ass over and over again.

And it isn't long until he cums untouched, his back arching into the bed as he pulls you into a kiss and moans into your mouth.

**

Keegan is at I've seen characterised as a freak fr so I feel like he'd be similar to Gaz. If anything, he'd want you to fuck his brains out spontaneously.

He's very much the type to purposefully rile you up just so you'd end up pushing him up against the wall, or even tugging him by his collar to the nearest unisex bathroom. He can't help it! He's a massive slut for his lover. Therefore it's always a good idea to keep a strap on you where ever you go with him.

If you don't have any lube around, he's very adamant of you shoving your fingers into his mouth to slick them up. Maybe he'll even bite them a little just so you deliver a slap on his cheeks.

There's really no telling when he wants to stop pushing you. He'll actively fuck himself back on your fingers when they're inside him, going against anything you're telling him just so you be rougher with him. All in all, his main goal is for you to fuck him like you hate him.

With barely any prep, he lets out long whine at the first thrust inside him, wanting nothing more than to be used by you. One hand on his cheek pressing him into the wall, the other gripping at his hip as he arches his back into you.

"G-God, fuck. Harder, please!"

He's gets so vocal, barely able to keep his moans back. Lets out the sluttiest moans as he finally reaches down to quickly jerk himself off, spilling his load over the wall.

Definitely asks you to be rougher next time. He wants you to put him in a chokehold, wrap your hand around his throat and restrict airflow, bend him over and press his face into the bed, make him beg for mercy. Certified freak 7 days a week!!! Let's just hope you're ready to do all the chores around the place for the next couple of days because there's no way he'll be getting up without a stabbing pain in his ass.

**

Roach is really just a blank canvas character, someone that was created for people to insert themselves into his shoes. So with that being said, I'd think he's into it. Nuff said.

You wouldn't need to do all too much to get him to submit. If he's a blank canvas, then I'll make him into a masterpiece. First time with him would be the first time he's getting pegged, period. Unlike König who's a little tense, Keegan or Gaz who are a little too into it, Roach is a neutral.

It's easy to bend him over, press your hands down on him to keep his back arched like a cat, knead his plump ass a little bit. It's so cute that he'll take whatever you give him. Whether you're rough with him making him whine and cry, slapping his ass and spitting on him as you give him no prep, or coaxing sweet moans from him and praising him as you slowly push your slick fingers into his tight hole.

He starts getting so desperate, wanting nothing more than to beg for you to finally fill him as you press the tip of your strap. He wants to push himself back against it, his cock rock solid, dripping with his pre just at the thought of it. But he's too much of a good boy to do so.

So when you finally fill him with a quick thrust, it makes him go dizzy.

He's a real sight for sore eyes; ass in the air, your hands holding him arched and in place, his eyes fluttering closed as he buries his face into the bedsheets below him, the prettiest moans escaping his lips. Soft and breathy, his voice breaking every time you slam against his prostate. He's not as vocal, but there's no denying the sweet noises that are forced from his throat with every thrust.

He's such a sweet boy, completely melting into the bed as you lean down, a wide smile on his lips as you press kisses against the back of his neck.

"Please, please, please, please, please!"

He'd beg as you finally reach down to give his throbbing dick attention. He's definitely saying thank you after he makes a mess of the bedsheets.

**

Alejandro is another one where I don't see him enjoying it all too much. He prefers to do the actual fucking rather than getting fucked. He'll fuck you like it's his last day on earth, giving you the most mind shattering orgasms known to man. He's definitely a BDSM guy for sure, a rope bunny while at it. But when the tables turn, he's unsure about it. He really doesn't believe it's something he would enjoy.

Alejandro is proud of his masculinity, maybe he has too much pride, but being in a place of submission like that is embarrassing to him.

He'd feel awkward being in a place without control over himself which is why I feel the most he'll allow you to do is use your fingers.

Lubing your fingers up, he'll allow you to bend him over once, just once, and only to try it out. Safe word in mind, he caves and lets you bend him over the counter.

"No funny business." Out of everyone on the list, Alejandro is definitely the most hesitant.

Tensing up as you push a finger in, he almost backs out. But knowing how adamant you were about him trying out something new, he makes up his mind and lets you do your thing because he's thinking that just maybe he'll enjoy it.

Like every instance, you curl your fingers to press against his spongey prostate and he jolts in surprise. Hearing a barely audible, low 'fuck' coming from his mouth, you curl your fingers again only to be met with a whiney moan.

"Is that a good fuck or a bad fuck?"

"Good... good fuck, god, please keep going."

Jackpot.

It isn't long until he's jerking himself off, pushing himself back onto your fingers. He doesn't want the feeling to end, though he regains some of his dignity during his post-nut clarity.

"Maybe we can do that more often.. if you want to.."

**

Rudy is a tricky one for me. I'm not that much of a Rudy stan to have an opinion on him + pegging. But I've seen him characterised as a sweeter and more reserved lover. I feel he'd be more like Ghost. He'll take your fingers, maybe a vibrator, but he definitely isn't ready for your strap right off the bat.

He'll ask you to be gentle, face flushed and looking away as you slowly push a finger in him. Curling your fingers in just the right spot would make him let out an embarrassingly loud moan, looking away, his face flushed. Taking advantage of this, his eyes roll back as you abuse the hell out of his poor sweet spot. The feeling is new and strange but oh god, it feels so good. It's immediately too much for him, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he cums so quickly just from your fingers alone.

Switching over to a vibe would elicit the most humiliating noises from him. It's so cute because he'll beg and beg for you to go easy on him, his poor tip flushed and red as you overstimulate him. Torturing him as you press the vibrator against that perfect spot inside him, coaxing him to another shameful orgasm, precum running down the underside of his shaft as he thrusts his hips into the air, it drives him completely mental.

"P-Please! It's too m-much!"

"I'm not hearing red." and he gets so flustered, he's burying his face in his hands.

But red never leaves his mouth, this thighs clamping around your hand as he spills a second, third, maybe fourth load all over his tummy, but that's only if you haven't drained him for all he's got. He might just let you peg him next time.

**

Valeria is all for it. A girl has needs, sometimes a girl just needs to be filled with a strap, and she is A-okay with that. Val knows what she wants and she knows she's going to get it.

Power play is a massive thing with her. So even if you're the one gripping the back of her knees and slamming into her, he won't hesitate to remind you she's in charge.

She'll allow you to lay her down, slowly undress her, spread her legs. She'll let you fill her with your strap, make her moan under you as you hit all the right spots inside her. But you're not leaving her without the pure filth that escapes from her mouth between her heavy breaths.

"Always making me feel so good, sweet thing."

"No, you don't get to stop. I don't care if you're getting tired, this is what you wanted."

"Fucking into me like a bitch in heat."

"Pussy drunk slut for me."

"F-Fuck.. mmh, d-don't stop."

She tends to get a dirty mouth when she's close, almost begging you to rub her clit for her until she gives in an does it herself. You can't blame her, you just didn't respond fast enough!

But it's not enough for her until her legs wrap around your hips, forcing you as deep as possible as she squeezes around the strap and cums around it with a long moan.

After that, she gives you no time to react. You're getting pushed back onto the bed while she returns the favour until you're begging her to stop from sensitivity. But that's okay, because that's what she likes.

***************

After finishing this, I've realised I've put a lot more effort into this one than the 141 one.. whoopsies 😭

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #20: My Turn: Mirio Togata

In which Mirio’s got a game for you. 

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), aged up characters, fingering, teasing, edging, tears, Mirio trying his hardest not to be a sunshine boi and only sort of failing

Notes: See? See? I can do thirst. I can make it SEXY. Today’s prompt was “Edging” and I just loved the thought of Mirio trying his best to be a little kinky for you. He’s definitely got a filthy side. 

Kinktober Masterlist

It’s a windy Saturday night in November and you’re curled in bed early with Mirio. Raindrops roll along the bias of your windowpane and the wind howls past your upper-level apartment.

But you don’t feel an ounce of cold, with Mirio- warm like the hearth- stretched out next to you. You’ve been like this all day, in and out of bed with episodes of a fluffy sitcom playing constantly in the background.

Now, though, as the chill of the evening’s pushed you closer together, your hands are starting to wander. It’s lazy at first- his rough palm up the edge of your thigh, your fingers dancing along his bicep. You’re easing into one another, and though you can feel the warm apex of where you’ll end up drawing near, you’re in no rush to get there.

Not yet, anyway. You’re about to eat those words.

“Princess,” he croons in your ear, drawing his lips up the side of your neck, “play a game with me?”

“Okay,” you giggle back as warmth blooms across your skin, following the path of his mouth. “But you picked Bananagrams last time, so this time I get to pick. Scrabble.”

He chuckles low and warm into your shoulder. Just the reaction you were hoping for. But he knows you’ve caught on, so he doesn’t even offer you a response. His mood has completely shifted.

That’s what you love so much about him.

“I wanna see how long you can last,” he murmurs. His fingers continue to trace up and down your thigh, as if he’s coaxing you around to the idea. But to you, it sounds like you’re going to get to do a whole lot of nothing while Mirio does his best to please you.

You don’t need any more coaxing than that.

“Like, without coming?” You hum, shifting a little so you can get a proper look at his face. He flicks his eyes up to yours, looking a little sheepish, but sure.

“Yeah. Y’know. I wanna test your stamina.”

You’re not exactly sure how to tell him that stamina isn’t a problem for you. He’s certainly never fallen short of satisfying you, but most of your sex life has been characterised by getting there in the first place, let alone measuring how long it takes you. You’ve never really had to hold out before- at least, not like he has.

This is going to be a cinch for you.

“Alright.” You smirk, but he’s one step ahead of you, already sliding his hand to your belly and starting to inch it toward the bottom of your shirt. You’ve got a flannel buttoned over your shoulders to keep the chill out, but it’s your day off and there’s no possible way he could have convinced you to wear pants.

Not that he’d tried.

He dips his face into your neck again, starting to kiss and lave his tongue over your delicate skin. You lean into the sensation eagerly, letting your eyes flutter shut as his fingers work their way toward the apex of your thighs.

The laugh track sounds quietly from the television as you let yourself relax. Mirio’s fingers are chilled as they dip into the hem of your panties, but he’s thrilled by the opportunity to pay you this kind of attention. He’s always so eager to get his hands on you. And you’re hardly ever in a position to deny him.

“I knew you were holdin’ out on me, princess,” he chuckles as his middle finger curls against your slit. You’re already growing wet with the anticipation of his touch, the shivers that his attentive mouth sent over your skin. He turns your chin with his free hand and drops a lazy kiss to your lips. All the while, he continues to gently explore your folds, working you open for him.

As he draws his wrist up to search for the swell of your clit, you’re starting to wonder if you do need to worry about your stamina. He’s barely touched you and already you’re starting to get those lovely little twinges of pleasure that have your hips twitching beneath his touch.

He grins, pulling his mouth teasingly from yours. “You’re gonna tell me if you’re about to cum, right?”

You never realized that his game was going to come with so many rules. But you know your own body- you’re more than ready to follow them.

“In that case, you might want to slow down, baby,” you breathe. Mirio laughs, nuzzling your neck and breathing hot puffs of air across your skin. The pad of his middle finger centers on your clit and he starts to circle in earnest.

“I could,” he quips, “or I could make it harder on you.”

His wrist flicks deftly back and forth between your legs. There’s something about the spot he’s found that’s tantalizingly perfect, and you can feel the tension building in the pit of your stomach. You purse your lips tightly, ready to ride that wave.

“Ooh,” you sigh, gripping Mirio’s thigh hard. “I’m close, baby.”

“That so?” He grunts in your ear. There’s an unfamiliar edge to his tone, but you don’t pick up on it yet.

“Yeah,” you whine, and he pulls his hand clean out of your panties. Your hips arch as you give a sullen little whimper. Immediately, you turn to face him.

“Why’d you stop?”

Mirio’s grinning. Normally, that grin sets you at ease. But there’s something about it today that sends a spike of nerves through your belly. He’s planning something.

You’re not sure you want to know what it is. You’re also not sure he’s going to give you a choice in the matter.

“I didn’t want the game to be over so soon, princess. C’mere.”

He slips a beefy arm around your waist and tugs you easily into his lap, situating you between his splayed thighs and letting you lean back against his chest. From there, he digs his fingers into the hem of your panties and tugs them down your thighs, helping you kick them off.

“Just relax,” he croons. “Watch TV. I gotcha.”

He brings his fingers to your pussy again, this time sliding his other hand under your thigh to join. He sinks two thick fingers into your slit, rubbing tight circles into your clit again. It doesn’t take you long at all to reach the edge. Before you can even warn him this time, Mirio stops again.

“Mirio,” you plead softly, but he’s still chuckling and nuzzling you, over and over again.

“You’re so cute when you want something from me. C’mon, let’s go again.”

He brings you to the edge one more time like that, pushing you so close you can practically taste the relief. When he pulls away for the third time, you’re squirming and fussing in between his legs.

“Let me cum,” you whimper. You’re not even proud about asking for it anymore. He shifts, crawling out from behind you and easing you onto your back.

“Don’t worry,” he continues. “I gotcha, princess. You think I’m gonna leave you high and dry?”

You glare daggers up at him, and he just shoots you an easy wink as he slips between your thighs.

“You’re getting tender down here,” he purrs, nosing his way up your inner thigh as he settles onto his belly. “Y’almost ready for me?”

“I was ready for you weeks ago,” you grumble. You can’t stay angry for long when he puffs hot air over your clit, then drags his tongue along the folds of your pussy and swirls.

He eats you out like a man starved, holding your hips taught against his mouth as he fucks you with his tongue. When you’re sure you can’t take any more, he lifts his chin, tonguing the swell of your clit and making you scream.

But he still doesn’t let you go. He pulls back from your pussy as you start to tremble, and when he does you let out a sob of such frustration that, when you open your eyes, his brow is creased with legitimate concern.

“Why won’t you let me cum?” You blubber.

“Aw, man.” Mirio stretches out next to you and pulls you into his arms. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, princess, I-I just wanted to try something new with you. I-I thought…”

“Please,” you sniffle, “please, Mirio, just fuck me, before I do it myself.”

He pauses and looks down at you in shock. For a moment, his eyes search yours. Then he breaks down, grinning fondly at you.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Alright.”

He gets back between your legs, shucking his boxer-briefs and quickly stripping out of his t-shirt. As soon as he’s bare you can see how much he’s been enjoying your little game. His cock is already rock solid, flushed and curving perfectly towards his belly.

“God,” he sighs, casting a gaze over your desperate form. “Look at you.”

He pushes your flannel up around your chest, exposing your ribcage and your chest.  His thumbs strum your nipples. Then he grips your hips, positioning himself and easing smoothly into you.

Your head falls back against the pillows. Utter bliss.

But you can’t trust this pleasure.

He starts rocking his hips forward, undulating into you with dull cries of you’re so tight for me, princess, and I can’t believe you made it this far.

You don’t last much longer than that.

As soon as he settles into a familiar rhythm, the slap of his body against yours is enough to push you precariously close. You squirm underneath him, doing your best to hold out.

“Miri…Mirio, c-can I…” you choke, peering up at him as he continues to fuck you diligently.

“Of course, princess, shit,” he sighs, buckling over you. “Let go for me. Please. I wanna see it.”

The build-up has been immense. And the fall does not disappoint. You tumble over the edge like an avalanche, seizing hard around him as you grip his hips tightly with your trembling thighs. Your back pulls clean off the bed.

Your vision goes white.

When the spots clear he’s panting above you, his cock already going soft inside you. But you don’t care. He made good on his promise- you are neither high nor dry.

“There you go,” he coos, pressing tender kisses across your collar bones and down your shoulders. “That’s it. God, you’re so pretty when you’re coming your brains out.”

You muster a weak chuckle, pulling him into your arms as he collapses beside you. The TV is still playing, and you slowly settle back into watching together as you bask in the afterglow of Mirio’s vicious game.

“So that was… okay, in the end,” he finally says, tracing a fingertip down the buttons of your flannel as you tug the warm fabric back into place.

“Yeah,” you agree sleepily. “It was fun.”

“So we can do it again sometime?” He quips carefully. You purse your lips, pretending to mull it over.

“Sure.”

He bolts upright. “Really?”

You pillow your arms behind your head and smirk.

“Yeah. Only next time it’s my turn.”

[slashingdisneypasta]

Poly! Laughing Jack x Fem!Reader x Offenderman || Oneshot

Title: A Rest (Add another R and take away the space and you have what these two need from the police) 

Notes: 

Just a short fluffy oneshot. I needed this. I forgot how much I love these two together! ^^

Plot: Your boyfriends’ have been waiting for you at home all day but all you want to do is sleep. 

Warnings: Sexual references, and references concerning discomfort with love and affection. Only a a tiny bit though, for characterisation. 

~~~ Your POV ~~~

I’ve been thinking about going home, getting snuggly in bed and falling asleep all day, no matter what time it would be. So, its not a surprise that the first thing I do when I get into my home at the end of the day, around 5 o’clock, is absolutely collapse on the couch - the closest horizontal, soft enough, habitable object, - and after I manage to pull off just one shoe, I forfeit the challenge and just lay down. Slowly goes it, as first my midsection makes contact with the couch cushions and then my cheek, and then all my muscles relax against the bed-like surface.

The foot with a shoe still on it hangs awkwardly off the couch because of my remaining 2, awake brain cells screamimg not get the couch dirty, and I even manage to pull the still-folded blanket off the couches back and onto my own back. Any other time the fact that it isn't covering… well, basically any of me seeing as its folded to around 5 cm long ways and 20 short ways, but its a nice comfort weight on the bottom of my back and I fall asleep.

~~~ Change of POV: 3rd Person ~~~

“Love, I missed you today!! Offender’s been soooooo boring. How was your- ” Offender, cradling a container of jam donuts in the crook of his arm as they stroll to the living room after they heard their precious girl-toy get home, cuts L.J off by shoving a donut over the clowns cone nose. Jam drips down in a sticky clump over L.J’s painted lips and leaves a pinkish stain down his front on its fall to the ground. L.J just stops walking and stays still through this, despite the short and probably annoying pause that the jam makes on his top lip; Then when the jam had found the floor, he turns his neck to look to Offender with thin lips and dead panned eyes. “That was unnecessary.”

“You know, if you un-focus on those stains, it looks like blood.” Offender taps his chin, before his smirk broadens. “Like that time you ate out Y/N when she was on her- ”

Before he gets the last word out, L.J is able to casually take out a donut from his lovers arm, pull the waist band of Offenders pants forward with the tip of a long black claw, and drop it in there. Offender was too interested in what he was saying to put a quick stop to it… and goddamnit. He doesn't wear underwear. He sighs, deeply, as if in true mental pain. “Are we even?”

“Sure.” L.J turns back to the livingroom, sliding the the donut off of his nose which leaves a sticky, pink residue. He starts munching on the donut anyway- he’ll get a wipe from your bag.

And just like that, they go back to their, apparently perilous journey to the livingroom where the third lover would be waiting. Probably turning on the TV, they suppose, or flopping down in an armchair.

When they make it in, and see Y/N snoozing - already well passed her first stage of sleep already, completely on her way to deep sleep, and then her REM time,- on the couch not even two minutes after arriving home, they both stop, disappointedly in their tracks. They’d been waiting for Y/N all day to come home and now she’s… she’s asleep! L.J’s shoulder drop, and he sighs.

“Well… I’ll wake her up- Yeek!” The British man squeal escapes him immediately when a sticky, sugary jam donut hits the side of his face this time and he whips around. “What!?”

Offender’s mouth is taught. He whispers “Don’t wake her up! What’s wrong with you? Were you born in a barn??”.

“Stop, throwing, donuts, at, me!” L.J whisper-shouts back, taking Offenders hat off his head and hitting him with it with every word. Offender snatches it back and growls.

“Okay! Fine! I’d rather eat them, anyway.”

“Good! Cuz I like donuts! And I’d rather not get PTSD when looking at them!”

“Go put the blanket on Y/N properly!”

L.J makes a 'talks too much’ gesture with his claws as he walks off to Y/N, mocking Offender like a child. After a few minutes of silence, filled only by Y/N’s sleep-breathing / snoring and Offender’s chewing. L.J sits on the floor in front of Y/N’s sleeping head for that time, stealthily lifting it and carefully putting a pillow under it. When he’s done, he sighs out a quick breath of relief. A ninja’s life is a dangerous one.

“Wonder why she’s so tired? Its only… ” Offender leans forward, peering around a corner to see the clock in the kitchen. He leans back, looking at L.J who looks back at him from the carpet still. “Five. You think work was hard?”

“No… ” L.J looks back at your face, expression softening the way it only does to Y/N and Offender. Claws brush some hair out of Y/N's face, then quickly retreat to the safety of his own lap. Affection is still… a struggle, for him. “She’s been down the whole week… She just needs a good sleep.”

Offender stands by and just watches for a few moments, thinking about how that is true, in retrospect. She has been less cheerful this week, a little more forced. He’s excited to see her when she wakes up tonight- L.J’s usually right about things that Y/N needs. He shrugs, putting the now empty donut box on the nearest surface. “Y’know, I could use one too.”

He walks over, carefully lifts up Y/N's legs and sits down with them in his lap, taking off the one shoe that’s still, weirdly, on her foot. He settles against the back of the couch, shoves a pillow behind his neck, and yawns.

L.J blinks at him, then turns around to lean back on the couch between Y'N's head and Offender's legs and lets his long legs unfold, straight out in front of him. He folds his claws in his lap, shrugging his shoulders one at a time to get comfortable. He’ll keep watch. “Have disgusting nightmares, Offender.”

Its half a joke, to lift the suddenly too-sensitive moment between the three of them that L.J just doesn't feel comfortable in, and half because he genuinely knows Offender will like it.

Offender snorts, relaxing into a sleepy state. “Oh, don’t I always?~”

So, the three of them, one with a donut still snug in his pants, one with sticky jam esudue along his cone nose, and one with her cheek getting numb against the pillow, have a rest.

[vampiresuns]

Like Real People Do | J. C. Sanlaurento x Saoirse

2.5k words. After reaching a safe port, Jules and Saoirse spend a day away from the crew.

Part 3 of Secrets Of An Ancient Moon series; you can read the rest of it here.

As always, Saoirse, my spouse, belongs to @apprenticealec​. I know I’m the one writing them, but honestly I have to make a pause to give Dani a shoutout: all of the work and characterisation for Saoirse is something I am able to capture because of all the work that Dani herself has put behind her character, and I can only be grateful for be trusted with it. All of of the musings I write for Saoirse are a ‘novelisation’ of things Dani herself has shared with me.

CW for Saoirse being a maniac who’s indifferent to wet socks, and a lot of existential talks, but that’s normal for void-gendered Sartre and Beauvoir.

Of course, the title comes from Hozier.

Personhood was a peculiar thing. People were peculiar things. Up to this point, Saoirse had thought they had the whole deal with human nature more or less pinned down — after all, they had been around long enough to observe humans plenty. Still, the conversation they had had some weeks ago with Julianus in the Ruby’s kitchen was still playing in the back of their mind. 

Because it’s your language, Saoirse.

None of us come with instructions about how to be a person.

They wondered what Niamh would have to say about it, but their last conversation back in Ethari, when Saoirse had done something as human as it got: visit a place that was both tomb and crib, told them she would not be surprised by this turn of events. She was the one who had said Saoirse had changed. Personhood was something Saoirse thought they only observed in others, not something they participated in. Julianus, wonderful and fascinating Julianus, had a different opinion.

When Saoirse had begun teaching them about the code and the language it was written in, they knew Jules would come with a number of legal and juridical backgrounds that they’d be able to tie into the code. According to them by writing themselves into the code, they had given themselves personhood.

“You use very ‘free-willed’ language to explain yourself. You incorporate into societies, you helped create one, which is a very human thing to do. I’ve told you what I think of human nature, haven’t I?” They had said some days ago, when they were brushing on that part of the code. 

“No,” Saoirse replied with a soft smile, “care to tell me?” Saoirse knew this would mess with their schedule, they had agreed on starting around the language but that Saoirse would explain the contents of the code, and Jules would take notes (they took a lot of notes, in general), but Saoirse found themself not caring. 

Time was a scarce thing with humans, but they were so prone to wasting it on things which they somehow found a way to justify in terms of importance. 

“There is no such thing as human nature, Saoirse. There’s nothing that’s inherent to humanity except gregariousness and the wish to be transcendent to contrarrest our own mortality, and truth be told I don’t think those two are different things. Nature is what you nurture, and you helped create this, you use words like ‘I was contracted’ and that’s such a human way to explain it.”

They paused. “I’m not offending you, am I?”

“No, it is different, that’s all.”

Of course, none of the conclusions Saoirse was coming to were conclusions they shared out loud. If Jules had other opinions on the subject, they kept them to themself, except for one and perhaps they only one which mattered.

Back then, Saoirse had placed their hand on Jules back and they carried on. Now, as they discussed with Meredith stopping for a few days in a safe port, it all dawned to them with an absurd clarity. 

Thinking about oneself was too very human, wasn’t it? Of course, humans weren’t the only ones who did so, Saoirse would know, but humans were the only ones whose opinions changed, whose natures changed with it. Gods did not change, and in many ways, Saoirse had not; at the same time, they had spent so long studying humanity they absorbed it in their own way. Sometimes it was knowingly, others unknowingly, and regardless of which Saoirse never understood why.

They couldn’t understand why now either, but they understood that they did not understand. Laughing seemed the obvious conclusion. 

Meredith looked at them with worry for a snap, then like they were crazy, and at last she rolled her eyes. She didn’t ask, she didn’t have to; Saoirse didn’t tell, they didn’t know if they could explain it, so they went back to the topic at hand: safe port. Out of all the things making it a safe port meant, the one which interested Saoirse the most in that moment was that they could wander off enough without having to worry about the Queen’s safety. It meant they’d get to spend time with Jules whatever way they wanted, and they thought they knew exactly where to take them. 

When they made it to the port, Saoirse found them petting Marcius. At first, Jules’ cat hadn’t much liked Saoirse. They spooked him, but now, slowly, he had begun to let himself have his head scratched… sometimes. 

“We’ll be two days here.”

Jules nodded.

“How will you be spending them?”

“Fucked if I know. Exploring, I think. I’ve never been here before. I’m sure there is a market someplace, or… wait, why are you asking me?”

“Because I’d like to take you somewhere, if you’d like to go with me.”

Over Marcius’ soft fur Jules stretched their hand to link their fingers with Saoirse, their cat starting to purr and Jules’ heart to beat like the wings of a frazzled bird; or perhaps, it wasn’t a bird it reassembled but thunder. Thunder roaring strong and steady and threatening to create a microcosm between them. 

Somewhere in the skies, a single thunder made itself heard, for no apparent reason.

“I’d love to,” Julianus replied. 

The only specification Saoirse gave them was to make sure they had something they could swim in — something they had said like they were making the conscious effort to not forget about it. Jules looked at them both baffled and amused, but asked no questions. They liked surprises, when they were controlled. 

So the following day, after leaving Marcius safely inside Saoirse’s quarters with some food, water and some toys, Julianus found themself hiking up the beach with the Quartermaster, from the sand, through a rocky area until they reached a series of natural tide pools between the rocks. The water was turquoise and mint green against the rocks, the bottom of them visible, even though they were still deep enough to swim in. They had been talking as they made their way, but Julianus fell silent upon seeing them, a gasp escaping their lips at last, as giddiness overtook them. 

“Saoirse, they’re beautiful.” 

“Like you.”

“What?”

“I’m glad you like them.”

Jules narrowed their eyes at them, pettiness oozing from them. “Well, I think the water of that one over there matches your eyes.”

Saoirse only laughed. “There’s a grotto there, it’s not too big, but it doesn’t get wet, so it’s a good place to leave your things. I assume you don't want your bag to get wet.”

“No, I would not like that.”

They settled by it, enough shadow and sun for both of them to choose where they wanted to sit. The water glimmered under the sun, and the soft breeze carried some of the sea foam to their faces, the sound of the crashing waves on a tranquil sea day the only sound to accompany their voices as they talked; or not talked, the waves becoming their personal orchestra as they shared comfortable silences. 

Eventually Saoirse stood up, making their way to the water, dipping a leg with their pants, socks and shoes on without batting an eyelash. 

“What are you doing?”

“You go swimming clothed, do you not?”

“It depends, skinny dipping is a thing… but we don’t throw ourselves into the water with that many clothes on. Especially not with shoes, or socks, if you’re wearing those.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s nothing more uncomfortable than a wet sock?”

Saoirse stared back at them blankly. 

“Of course you don’t think wet socks are uncomfortable,” Jules said with an affectionate eye roll before stripping down to their swimming clothes. A single pair of high-waisted, high-cut, black briefs.

Jules folded their clothes quickly but neatly, and Saoirse looked. Their eyes took in both the whole process and Julianus themself. The shape of the legs, the curve of the hip, the pinch of the waist, the exposed flat chest with healed, periareolar scars that shot like small sun rays on their skin. They lifted their hair to re-tie it in a carelessly done bun, Saoirse’s eyes stopping in the tattoo that read ‘être libre’ on their skin.

“To be free?” They asked, still staring, but now out of the water, shoe and sockless only on one foot, as both items left to dry away from the water. 

“Oh, you mean this? Yeah, that’s what it means. Got it, huh, three years ago? Give or take? It’s six months older than the scars.”

“Does it have a reason to be? I know sometimes you get those with meaning.”

Under the sun, Saoirse’s hair looked like a halo. “Depends on how you want to see it. It’s from one of my favourite books. One of the characters asks, rhetorically most likely, a group of revolutionary students he frequented if there was something greater than a specific political ruler, a military conqueror, an emperor truly, but those are often the same thing; and another character replies ‘to be free’, être libre.”

They came closer, sitting next to Saoirse, who traced the letters with their fingers. 

“Is that why you travel?”

“Is that why you do too?”

“You have an interesting way to look at things.”

“You always say that.”

“Maybe I do because it’s a compliment.” 

Jules gave them a sly look from their side-eye, tucking a loose strand of hair behind their ear. They smiled too, not before licking their lips. It was, of course, on purpose.

“Should I take the proclivity with which your hands find my ribs as a compliment too?”

“I like the rhythm of your breaths. Sometimes you forget to do them, so you stop until you remind yourself you have to.” 

“By-product,” they joked.

“Of?”

“Life.”

“Personhood is a muscle, muscles get cramps, don’t they?”

“You can’t use my words against me.”

“Who said I’m talking about you?” 

“What about then?”

The sun had made Jules’ skin warmer than usual, Saoirse noted as their other hand settled on their knee. They turned towards them a little more, facing the full weight of Saoirse’s staring now. In truth, Saoirse was always staring, always observing, and Julianus had become a permanent feature in their mental inventory, in their peripheral vision, in those little things which reminded them how far away they were from humans, and how close at the same time. More alike them than Saoirse ever suspected they would become, they marvelled at all the things Julianus had come to unbury from crevices and spaces inside Saoirse they didn’t even know they had. 

Saoirse pried their hand away from their ribs, softly settling against Jules’ jaw, cupping it. The hair strand they had tucked behind their ear went loose again, it’s feathery softness tickling Saoirse’s skin. It was a new, yet welcome sensation. 

“Do you still want to swim?” Julianus asked, their voice hushed, the act of speech itself a secret to be shared with Saoirse.

“We have all day,” Saoirse said, finding themselves mimicking the tone used by Julianus, only in their case it was out of wonder. Out of a sense of ongoing curiosity at Jules themself, at their own state of being right now.

Something nebulous had formed inside them for weeks, something that was too akin the same voluntary, chosen will to protect they tended to have for the Pirate Queen, only for entirely different reasons. It was as if someone had undug them from the ice they one inhabited all over again, but this time to offer no deals, no strategies. Jules came with conversations and butterflies they made appear out of nowhere, to teach them (or remind them, Saoirse didn’t know) contracts and acquired self-determination weren’t the only thing which freed. 

“You’re so fascinating.” 

Julianus leaned against the hand cupping their jaw, turning their head to kiss their wrist. 

“If you come closer I can give you one of those too.” 

Saoirse didn’t need to be told twice. Using the hand they were cupping their jaw with to pull them closer, Jules’ hands landed on Saoirse’s upper thighs as their lips met. Plush and warm, Jules lips traced Saoirse’s softly at first, a careful exploration that gave way to exchanged pecks — as if they were trying to make up their minds about the duration of the kiss but couldn’t, or didn’t want to just yet. 

Jules opened their eyes to meet Saoirse’s, those ice blue eyes which never seemed to leave them. The choice was easy, really, when Saoirse’s open gaze met them like that, a wide, yet still not-very-open smile on their lips: Jules had to kiss them again. 

“How long have you been wanting to do that?” Jules asked, cheeky, when they finally pulled apart. 

“Probably since the kitchen talk.” 

“Huh, okay.”

“You were not expecting that answer?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Bad unexpected?”

“Too good unexpected.” 

Saoirse snorted. 

“Hey, not everyday you find a gorgeous, interesting, surprisingly attentive eldritch deity pining after you. I feel very much like the most powerful human in the world, even though I wield no earthly powers, or have no door-opening family name — okay, maybe a little door-opening. We haven’t talked in a while, so I don’t know if I couldn’t any more.”

Saoirse kissed their knuckles, finding themselves wanting to do it. They’ve seen many people do it, they’ve read about people doing it, now they wanted to do it too. “Means I have more of your company… I never told you who I am exactly, though.”

“You said ‘who’,” Jules smiled, “and you didn’t. I do not know if I seem like it, I do not think I am especially so, or at least not more than others, but I am smart enough. Or I hope I am, at least. One can be many things, however, but that’s beyond the topic.” 

Saoirse now took out their other shoe and sock, rolling their pants up enough so they could dip their legs at the edge of the tide pool. “Perhaps I should throw you into the water, for humbleness.” 

“If you pull me into the water, I’m pulling you with me.”

“I’m heavier than I look.”

“I’ll try anyway.” 

The truth was Saoirse let Julianus pull them into it. It was easy to let them when they got to be so close in the process. There were no obligations, no lessons, no shooting, no chores, no anything to distract them from each other, the water and their lips. At some point, Saoirse ended up ditching their shirt too, teasing Jules just a little for staring when they did, even if they knew they had no grounds to make any comments on the subject, not when they knew they spent a fair amount of time looking at Jules for the sake of it. 

Some other time Julianus would make the comparison with some story they had read about, or seen acted out, where desire was masked to be unmasked in private, as if it was something people too couldn’t directly look at, not completely, not at once. It would have to wait, as today they were too busy living, too busy with Saoirse, swimming and talking and making out in the sun until it was time to go back. 

“Can I hold your hand as we walk?” 

Saoirse’s reply was taking Jules’ hand in theirs, smiling softly at them as the sun began to close the distance between itself and the sea, the warm hues of sunset tinting both their blond heads.  

[floralseokjin]

PBN drabble | It’s Yoongi’s birthday and he deserves a ride...

warnings; smut, fluffy domesticated stuff that i can’t handle 🤧inspired by his new selfies today and of course, his birthday... my favourite characterisation of min yoongi had to make a cb! wordcount; 1.6k

listen to; she treats me well – ben howard

“What are you doing, Yoongi?”

Shit. You’ve woken up. He can hear your hand brushing against the empty sheets on his side of the bed. Aimlessly searching for him. He had been so close to finishing undetected too... Just about to turn his monitor off when you stirred.

Think. Maybe if he stays silent, you’ll think you’re dreaming and nod off back to sleep. It’s too late to switch the monitor off now so he prays the bluish glow coming from it doesn’t wake you up even more. He wishes too late.

“Hm. What time is it?” You sound groggy, and he hears you sit up, reaching for your phone on the nightstand.

“Late,” he tells you, realising silence isn’t an option now that your eyes are open. He winces ahead of time, just before you cry out his name sleepily.

“Yoongi!”

“Go back to sleep,” he whines quietly. He knows he was playing a dangerous game when he’d crawled out of bed just gone half 11.

“How can I?!” You exclaim, but you don’t sound mad, just hella cute and sleepy. He turns his head so he can see your darkened figure, phone screen lighting up your face as you pout. Almost irresistibly. “It’s been your birthday for nearly 3 hours and you’ve been alone!”

He scoffs. “Birthdays don’t start until morning.” But he knows better. This is why you’re annoyed. You’d wanted to stay awake past 12 to wish him a happy birthday, but because you’re 23 going on 63, you don’t know time exists past 11pm... Birthdays are lame anyway. Just another day. You don’t agree though, and now he’s in deep shit.

“It’s 3am.” Quarter too, Yoongi thinks to himself but he knows better than to correct you right now. “It is morning.” He can’t argue there he guesses.

“You said you were going to sleep, too.”

That he had. Because you know what he’s like. Working on his music in the only free time he has. Night time. He just really can’t quit right now. His dream could become a reality, but he can’t tell you that yet. Not until Hobi’s friend really loves something and wants to use it. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, yours either, because you support him so well...

But not at 3am. On his birthday. Don’t forget that one. He’d tricked you. Letting you fall asleep in his arms at exactly 11:11pm (late for you) and then he’d expertly rolled you on to your side before he’d slipped out of bed and crept to his desk.

“God, what does it feel like to sleep next to my boyfriend?” You grouch, and he watches you climb out of bed. Great. Now he feels guilty. “I can’t remember anymore.”

He rolls his eyes. “Quit being dramatic.” You’re in front of him now, looking down at him judgingly. He outstretches his arms, holding your hips. Voice soft. “Get back to bed. Look I’m going too–”

He can’t finish his sentence, nor get up, because you’re climbing on his lap, straddling him, kissing him. This seems to be a position you’re both in a lot. His fault, definitely. But right now, he really can’t feel bad.

“Happy birthday,” you murmur against his lips.

“Mhm. Thank you,” he squeezes out against yours. Hands finding their way down the sides of your thighs and to your ass. He gives it a squeeze. He really can’t resist. His excuse? He needs to make sure this is all real every once in a while...

Your tongue catches and curls with his, a shaky breath leaving him because he can’t help it. You pull back and weave your hands through his hair, eyes narrowing. He knows what’s coming so he stops you beforehand.

“Leave the hair alone.” He sighs.

“I just... I can’t get used to it.” You shake your head. Still eyeballing his brand new blonde locks. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to have a mid-life crisis at 25.”

“Quarter life crisis.” He corrects. Not like that was the reason though. Try the loss of a bet between him and Seokjin...

You pout again. He kisses it from your lips. “No, I like it...” You insist, kissing down his jaw and to his neck. He closes his eyes, wrapping his arms tightly around your middle. This will always be the best feeling. You in his arms. Your mouth on his skin. He’s the luckiest guy in the world. Yellow hair or not.

“I really do,” you hum. It heats a patch against his skin. “It’s just you’re not my Yoongi anymore.”

You’re talking in pout now too, sounding cute. His hands find your back, nudging you until you lift away and look at his face. “I’ll always be your Yoongi,” he smiles. “For as long as you want me.” Cheesy, yes, but who cares? Although he kisses you to hide the flush on his cheeks.

“Forever, then,” you reply simply.

He shrugs, voice growing in volume as he wonders something. “Fine by me but isn’t that impossible? What do I have left now? Forty? Fifty years max?”

“Yoongii,” you whine, pushing at his chest. “Stop being so morbid.” He chuckles in response, but you’re carrying on. “They’ll find a way to freeze us soon. We can live forever then.”

He thinks someone has watched too my conspiracy videos, but yeah, forever with you doesn’t seem too bad. He tells you that with more kisses, nipping at your bottom lip, hands in your hair, yours gripping his shoulders. It turns needy fast, but of course, he’s always needy for you.

“Let’s get to bed,” he murmurs out of breath, rubbing his nose against yours.

“Here’s fine,” you more or less moan. It fucks him up. You run a hand down his chest. “I want to ride the birthday boy in his favourite chair.”

“Fuck.” That ends him. He’s never had birthday sex before. He thinks he’d like to start. “Ride away,” he smirks, leaning back, letting you take the reins.

His dick is already hard when you remove it from his sweat pants. No surprise there. It would be more of a shock if he was limp. You’re wet, but not super wet as you tug your pyjama shorts to the side and press down on him. More like moist and waiting for his cock like you are most days. He slips inside with a slight push, because you’re made for him now. You take his dick so well. He, on the other hand, is always stunned when he feels the velvety warmth of your insides. He can never get used to it no matter how hard he tries.

He sits back and lets you ride him, because that’s all he can do. Watching you in the bluish glow, hair in his eyes. God. You really are stunning. So pretty. So beautiful. His. He always needs to remind himself that. But not like he used to. Before he used to be scared and worried. Now he’s just thankful and lucky. You’re his, and he’s yours, and that’s how it should be.

He wants to touch you some more. Feel his hands on your body. His mouth. So ever so carefully he pulls down a part of your tank top, the strappy sleeve having fallen down your arm, to reveal one of your breasts. He takes your nipple in his mouth, laving and sucking it at his whim, your other breast getting kneaded by his palm. The extra stimulation gets you sighing so sweetly it makes his heart jerk around in that chest of his. Your mouth parted, eyes lidded.

You really are the girl of his dreams. He used to think this could never work out. That everything was too messy. Too much having happened. Not after you loved another just to love him. But now he sees the truth. You had to love another just to love him. It makes sense now, and that’s amazing. Some things just have to happen. You persevere. You never lose hope. Life works in mysterious ways. Maybe in the back of his mind he’d call it fate. Yeah. Maybe.

You cum quickly because you’re grinding on him like a maniac and your tits have always been too sensitive. An I love you falls from his tongue, and he cums to your I love you more, a stupid smile on his face, because that game never gets old.

“If we stay like this for a while hopefully we don’t have to clean up,” he hopes moments later, cock still stuffed inside you, growing flaccid.

You pull a face. “I’m still cleaning up, and then we sleep.” That’s a direct command. You slip off him with shaky knees, getting to your feet. “Or do I have to chain you to the bed?”

He watches some of his cum drip down the inside of your thigh. Well, there goes his great idea. “Mhm. Kinky,” he agrees, folding his dick back in his sweats as he stands too. “I’m down.”

You ignore him. “We have to get up early tomorrow. Your birthday itinerary starts at 9am sharp.”

He nods. Yes, boss. He has no clue what you’ve planned but he’s excited. He just won’t let on how much... You smile victorious, making moves for his door and to the bathroom. He grabs your hand, tugging you back gently.

“One more kiss,” he suggests with a pout. Of course you agree. He hums into your mouth happily as he pulls away. “Mm. Happy birthday to me.”

[darkestwolfx]

Forest

Thought I would re-post this here, because why not? I might start posting more of my work on tumblr too.

It’s part 2 of my March prompt series but can be read as a stand alone. Relevant links are the at the bottom. I’ll be uploading parts 3 & 4 tonight!

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“The central part of Tracy Island is a lush tropical forest, home to a variety of plants and animals unique to the island.”

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Summary: ‘There’s a reason no one goes into that forest alone.’ Alan just hadn’t expected what it really was.

Words: 2481

Spoilers: None

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

Usually Alan would pull Gordon in on his trouble making plans, but not this one. This one he wanted the glory all to himself. Apparently, the forest on the island – which Gordon had always liked to characterise as a jungle – was impenetrable, with crossing from one side to the other impossible. Alan had every plan to film his journey across the great green landscape and prove his brother’s wrong.

Knowing the oldest three, they’d probably never even tried to venture in there, just listened to Dad’s every word and warning against it like good sons.

But Alan wanted to know. He wanted to know what was in there. Gordon always described it like the jungle out of The Jungle Book, which John always claimed was due to the blonde knowing of no other jungle to compare it too. Virgil had painted it, but only ever from the outside, never anything else and Scott did nothing but tow the line that it was impassible.

Well, youngest and bravest had every plan to change that, so he had decided. He’d packed his rucksack with drinks and snacks just in case he was stuck out there for a while, and he’d made sure his camera had enough charge to film the whole journey. Yes, this was going to be good. He couldn’t wait to see his family’s faces when he proved them all wrong.

He prepared himself with a deep breath, before sneaking out of his room, and into the quiet, dimly lit hallway. He didn’t switch any lights on so as to lessen his chances of waking anyone and he moved with a much speed and silence as he could. It was hard, because he was so excited to finally be doing this, but he wouldn’t be doing it if he got caught, so he continued on course, quiet and determined, though excited.

He made it out of the house easily enough and then quickly dashed off into the lifting cover of night. It would be light enough by the time he made it to the forest, and there was no reason why he shouldn’t be able to make it back before darkness fell again. He was hoping to make it back for lunch.

Alan felt apprehension creeping in the closer he come to the green forestry, but he pushed on still. He was determined to be the first to cross that land, to prove to everyone that there was nothing to fear in there, that it was possible to go in and come back out. That was his reason for being here, and he was prepared, he wasn’t turning back.

Deep breath in, and off he went-

“Where are you going?”

Oh no… That was Gordon. He sighed as he turned around to see the smiling, smirking form of the brother closest to him in age, just as he’d predicted.

“I thought I didn’t wake anyone.”

“You didn’t.” Gordon smiled, wide and bright like usual when he was planning trouble, and for once Alan worried he too was in the impact zone for said mayhem, even though he was usually excluded due to being part of the trouble causing.

“Good.”

“Because we were already awake.”

And that was Scott. Unless Gordon had suddenly become some kind of expert in ventriloquism, which Alan couldn’t rule out of the realm of possibility. But, no, Scott appeared behind the swimmer and Alan felt his heart sink. His escapade was clearly flawed and there was likely little chance of him getting in the forest now.

Great. All that planning for nothing.

And it really was for nothing, because soon John and Virgil appeared to stand at the eldest’s side and Alan knew luck couldn’t have been rooting for him.

“Don’t tell me you all just happened to be awake?”

That was an odd thing to happen at… six in the morning. Well, odd for Virgil and Gordon at least: Scott was military trained, and John was an astronaut, so for them it was perfectly plausible.

But Virgil laughed.

“I woke them.” Gordon explained and Alan felt somewhat betrayed. “I knew you were planning something, and you left me out. Cheek of that.”

“And this is to teach me not to?”

“Hey, little brother, what can I say? If you’d let me in on the plan… This wouldn’t have happened.”

Yeah, he felt very betrayed.

“Anyway,” Scott began, arms folded, brows raised, “What are you doing heading for the forest?”

“I’m going in.”

This time, they all laughed. All four of them.

“What? What is so funny?”

“You’re not going in there.”

“Yes, I am, Scott. I’m going to prove you all wrong.”

“What are you trying to prove wrong?” Virgil inquired, brows frowning incredibly akin to Scott’s.

“That there’s no reason why we can’t go into this forest.”

“Other than the fact that it’s nearly impossible to navigate?”

“And covers most of the island, and is mostly impenetrable?”

“And it’s darker in there than it ever is out here, even in daylight?”

“And it’s massive.” Gordon finished off, only for three older sets of eyes to turn to him. Alan found that rather comical. “What? You three took all the good points.”

John shook his head. Virgil chuckled.

“So, Alan, knowing all that, you’re still planning to go in?” Scott began, “Because you know, despite all that, there’s a reason no one goes into that forest alone.”

“I know, it’s because Dad said- Wait, did you say alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Alone, but not, not at all?”

“Correct.”

“At least we know he can still hear ok- ow!”

Virgil had whacked Gordon’s chest in response to that.

“But I thought no one had ever been in there? It’s not allowed.”

“With good reason.” John muttered, although Alan could expect that from his second brother.

“They’ve been in there.” Gordon began, something in his tone sounding remorseful. “I would have loved to have a wonder through.”

“Feel free, but I’m never going in there again.” John stated and Gordon smiled. Alan had a feeling his trouble making partner knew the story he didn’t here.

“Me neither.” Virgil agreed. “The art wasn’t worth it.”

“Art?” He was well and truly confused. “But you never paint the inside of the forest.”

“I did intend to, but I never really got a look at anything different from the outside. I was too busy trying to find a way out.”

“You’ve been in the forest? Why wasn’t I told this sooner? Ok, you have to tell me this story now!”

“Ok,” The eldest relented. “You see, Virgil here thought it would be a great artistic opportunity to see the inside of the forest.” Scott began. “So, he ‘wisely’ ignored Dad and went in there.”

“And got lost.” John concluded.

“I prefer to say I misplaced my sense of direction.”

“Whatever you like.”

“So, John and I – good brothers we are - went in after him, and we were pretty lucky in being able to find him, but-”

“We also ended up getting lost.” John added, “For all Scott had promised me he’d be able to get us out with his amazing sense of direction.”

“I did get us out, thank you very much.”

Gordon suddenly started chuckling again, and Alan knew there was more that he was missing. This wasn’t a simple lost and found.

“Yes, after we ran into half of the unique wildlife out there.” John contributed.

Virgil groaned. “Don’t remind me! I’m still haunted.”

“I looked it up on the internet, I don’t think it’s that scary.” Gordon added and Alan really wanted to know what he was still missing. Virgil didn’t scare easily either, but his middle brother was cringing and moving away from Gordon as he spoke. “Lots of legs, quick moving and slimy.”

“And bites.” The astronaut added almost bitterly.

“What does?” He was sure his brothers could be talking about any number of things, especially if there was wildlife in that forest he’d never seen before.

“Centipedes.” Gordon answered, clearly still on a mission to tease Virgil.

“But they’re tiny.” He’d seen some which had made into the house. They were always nothing scary, just little fast-moving bugs that usually got themselves stuck in the bath before they met their end.

“No, eight inches long-”

“The size of a golf tee, give or take.” Virgil helped with his visual imagining of the now big issue which dwelt inside the scary forest.

“-And with a dangerous bite.” Scott explained.

“Poisonous bite.” John corrected, with venom of his own.

“Woah, really?”

“You should expect there to be something poisonous on this island, little bro.”

“I know, Gordon, but a centipede?”

“Yeah. Definitely a centipede.” Virgil agreed with shivers going down his spine anew.

“But – hang, I don’t get… how that’s relevant to you getting lost?” Alan asked, it being his turn to frown now, and Scott sighed as John and Virgil’s eyes turned to him. Gordon was smiling like a clown.

“Ok, so John and I rushed after Virgil, forgetting that neither of us had shoes on. I had socks on, but John had bare feet. After we’d managed to find Virgil, we were trying to find our way back and found the centipede’s instead.”

“Right…”

“It has to be this way.”

“How do you know that, Scott?”

“I don’t, John, but I’m pretty sure we came this way… See look, there’s a tree.”

“It’s a forest, Scott!”

“There are trees everywhere!”

“Virgil, I don’t need you stating the obvious too.”

“You’re the one stating the obvious, not me. I just pointed out what you clearly didn’t see!”

“I did too see the trees, hence why I said it.”

“Not at all helpfully.”

“Well it wasn’t helpful of you to just run off here.”

“I didn’t think it was going to be this…”

“What? Everything Dad said it was?”

“I just thought I could use the scenery.”

“Great, did you hear that John? We’ve got ourselves lost for the sake of scenery.”

“I really couldn’t care why. Let’s just get out of here.”

“Great idea, John. Pity Scott’s getting prematurely old!”

“Hey! You try remembering anything round here-”

“Stop arguing.”

“-it all looks exactly the same, there’s nothing to remember!”

“Well maybe you should have thought more about rushing in after me!”

“Maybe you should have thought more about not rushing in-”

“Ow!”

“John? What now?”

“I’ve got bare feet-”

“Should have put some shoes on then.”

“-And I think something just bit me.”

“Probably because you’ve got no shoes on.”

“Virgil…”

“Here, hold onto me before you fall over.”

“Can we jus- eww! What are all those things!”

“They’ve got loads of legs.”

“They’re centipedes.”

“They’re disgusting!”

“I think that’s what bit me.”

“They don’t bite… do they?”

“Why are you looking at me, Virgil? John’s the genius.”

“Genius or not, I don’t know. I don’t have x-ray vision to see through my feet!”

“Great… just great.”

“Well, you obviously made it back.” Alan summarised once his elder brothers finished recounting their encounter, Gordon having enjoyed the whole thing despite the youngest being able to tell he’d heard it all before. Honestly, having lived long enough on the island, he was used to the bugs, though he wasn’t very keen on the thought of centipedes anymore either. And the things had been known to make their way towards the house… little tiny ones, but still. “You found a way out?”

“Eventually.” Virgil groaned. “It took ages.”

“Yeah, and I even had to carry John.”

“Considering you were the one who pulled me out the house without leaving me any time to get my shoes, Scott, I don’t think that piggyback was unfair.”

“Me neither.”

“Hey, we were only in there because of you, so you don’t get a vote!”

“Besides, I couldn’t have walked back anyway, considering the fact I’d been poisoned.”

“Yeah ok, but Brains said it wouldn’t have been fatal.”

“We didn’t know that!” John and Virgil chorused, and even Gordon wasn’t smiling now.

“Nor did Dad. He all but blew up when you returned, and I had a front row seat! Heck, you all say I’m loud; I say that’s where I got it from.”

“Hang on- So, let me get this straight.” His brothers turned their focus to him. “Virgil went into the forest even though we’re not meant to. You two went in after him and got just as lost. John got bitten by a poisonous-”

“Venomous.” Scott interjected.

“-Centipede and somehow you found your way home. Did I miss anything?”

“Well, you skimmed it down a lot.” Virgil corrected.

“But I don’t think you missed anything.” Gordon interjected.

“Right. So that’s why I shouldn’t go into the forest alone?”

“Yeah, and why you shouldn’t go in there at all, little brother.”

“You do not want to get bitten by a centipede.”

“No?” Gordon asked, clearly trying to find some humour, but John refused to oblige the swimmer.

“No. I don’t care that it’s not fatal, it still hurts like level four on Schmidt index*.”

“Well, I think we should head home before anyone else wakes up.” Scott decided, making his opinion and it was met with three more sets of agreement before those blue eyes turned on him. “Alan? You coming with, or are you still going through the forest?”

He gave the forest one last glance. He still could if he wanted to, but his opinion on braving the forest had changed drastically since he left the house.

“Maybe I won’t bother.”

“Good call.”

“Oh no, don’t you all go getting the wrong idea. My decision has nothing to do with any of you.” Alan assured. He wasn’t certain that his brothers believed him from the skeptical glances, but he was definitely going to run with his story. “I just wanted to be the first. There’s no point bothering if I’ve already been beaten to it.”

Pushing past, Alan tried to further his argument by being the first to walk back up the hill. There really was no value in It for him if he wasn’t the first, and his brother’s cautionary tale had made it seem… well, it confirmed everything he’d always been warned of when it came to the forest.

They all headed back up to the house, with no one else any the wiser that the forest had ever been on the exploration list, but at the same time, Alan had a feeling he was going to be sharing Virgil’s bug based shivers for quite some time now. Whilst he would have believed Gordon to pull such a prank, John wouldn’t lie about being bitten by a centipede, which meant the things really were as horrible as he thought they were ugly.

No, there was a reason why not one went into that forest alone, and it was the same reason that no one should go in at all.

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

*Schmidt string pain index – list the pain sale of different large order insect bites. It ranges from 1-4, with four being described as ‘blinding’ levels of pain.

So, when I travelled to the rain forest, I was warned to look out for “the eight-inch centipedes” with a sting “worse than a hive of bees”. So for anyone unsure, 8 inches is the equivalent size of a golf tee, or a little bit more than a brand new, sharpened pencil with an eraser on top. Basically, the locals don’t like them, they’ve just become used to them.

If you do want to look it up (which I wouldn’t personally having already done so), the species of centipede to likely inhabit Tracy Island would be the Amazonian giant Centipede (Scolopendra gigantea) which grow to 8 inches minimum, with a maximum length of 12 inches (so the size equivalent of a full ruler). It is reported to have a venom which isn’t fatal, however one four-year-old child has reportedly died from it. Its classification has remained venomous, not poisonous however, and it is thought anyone in good health and not of an extremely young or old age would be able to survive. Many people have been reported to fall ill after being bitten by a giant centipede. With recent discoveries of the first amphibious centipede, and reports of two more poisonous Scolopendrra Subspinipes (Thailand and Mexico), it is likely that the main genus of the Scolopendra family will soon be reclassified.

Before anyone asks why I’ve said it’s nonfatal in this story, that is because I have referred to it as matches its current classification, although if that is ever redefined (which I think it should be), I will edit this to match.

So, personally, I think I am very lucky to not have encountered one whilst I was in the rainforest! I felt very much like Virgil as I walked around, constantly on the lookout with goosebumps going up my arms. I had some excellent guides though, and attribute my survival and learning to them. If I sent this their way, they would probably laugh at what I’m using all that knowledge they gave me for!

-----

Whole series of works avaliable here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23120479

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13520092/2/Marching-On

[montpahrnah]

hp fic recs

sirius/remus, part iii

part i / part ii

The Survivor, by apolesen (145k)

1985. Four years after the death of his friends, Remus decides to break out of the pattern of his post-war life and try living among Muggles. In a sleepy town in southern England and the bustling city of London, he tries to build a new life for himself, piece by piece. The more he sees of the Muggle world, the more Remus wonders if that structure is as stable as he would like to think it is.

“The Survivor” is set in Thatcherite Britain, in the wake of the Falklands War and the onset of the British AIDS epidemic. It explores themes of disease, stigma, war trauma and grief, reflecting both on the historical context of the 1980s and Rowling’s characterisation of Remus Lupin.

Time, As a Symptom, by tigrrmilk (12k)

“Ah,” Remus had said, as dry as he could manage. “An aristocratic youth on his grand tour.”

Sirius knocked his arm. “Hey,” he said. “Grander than most, at least. You’ve got to give me that.”

Seven of them go to space. One stays there.

Light in August, by orestesfasting (21k)

Summer, 1977. With the full moon approaching, Sirius heads up to the Lupins’ countryside cottage to make himself useful. Or to make a complete and utter arse out of himself, because really, that’s all he can seem to do around Remus these days.

EXILE/RETURN, by zambla (5k)

Sirius makes a road trip down to the Gower peninsula. Non-magic AU. 1980s-1990s.

Orbital, by tevere, (3k)

The thing about orbiting is, see, that it’s not flying at all – it’s falling. It’s just that you’re going fast enough to match the curvature of the Earth: you’re falling round and round, and never getting any closer.

Anastasia & Spinning Jenny, by librae (8k)

Grimmauld Place is eating Sirius alive.

A Bright Particular Star, by torch (24k)

Remus and Sirius celebrate their last Christmas at Hogwarts.

A Late Frost, by kest (1k)

Remus and Sirius in the first war.

the summer you let your hair grow out, by ladymemebeth (20k)

an AU story in which sirius decides to go to remus’ house when he runs away, rather than james’. remus finds this situation to be trying in more ways than one. includes gratuitous references to twentieth-century cinema and music.

A Short Discourse on Cruelty, by imochan (1k)

So, friendship - it hurts, sometimes. Companion to A Short Discourse on Kindness.

A Short Discourse on Kindness, by imochan (1k)

Companion to A Short Discourse on Cruelty. Three verses.

The Rosary, by fluorescentgrey (31k)

On a Thursday in April 1943 Remus took the train from London to Birmingham, where a stately black car was waiting at the station to take him a short drive southwest to Hagley. In a wood on the estate of the Viscount Cobham of Hagley Hall four local boys hunting quail had found a woman’s skeleton in a wych elm tree.

These Young Lions, by enjambament (26k)

On Hallowe’en night, 1981, Sirius runs for his freedom and ends up as a dog on the doorstep of No. 11 Privet Drive. But that’s only the beginning. What comes next is a desperate hunt for the evidence to give Sirius his life back, and give Harry a home.

The Weather Inside, by earlybloomingparenthesis (43k)

Sirius rides a flying motorbike, and snogs strangers in pubs, and strikes moody poses Remus finds irritatingly attractive. But for Remus, who drinks milky tea and wears flannel pyjamas, there’s a chasm cracked right down the fault line between wanting and doing.

How he wants, though. How he wants.

Longsdune, by imochan (3k)

He supposes that this is what is expected of him, to sit here and listen to wetness sinking into the earth and remember how it felt when it was sunny, and there were four of them, and Sirius Black looked at him like he was a piece of the universe he wanted to understand so badly that he was willing to take Remus apart completely and then put him back together.

Tesserae (the Missing Pieces Remix), by glass_icarus (3k)

Post-PoA. Sirius is picking up the pieces, but putting them back together requires help.

When We Were Gone Astray, by shaggydogstail (4k)

A brief history of Christmastime with Sirius bringing up Harry.

it is our crooked aim, by misandrywitch (4k)

He’s been gone for three days, and he didn’t tell Sirius where he was going or how long he’d be gone. He has no idea where Sirius is, or when he’ll be back. That’s how it’s been for a while now. He makes himself tea and runs a bath and sits in the tub until the water is grey and chilly with sloughed-off dirt. Remus is twenty-one. He feels eighty.

This World Lies At The Bottom Of A Lake, by berhanes (7k)

Briefly he’d considered going to visit Remus, but Sirius has too many stacked up feelings about him to add any more, and he doesn’t trust himself not to ruin their carefully patched situation in the wake of the incident – it’s only been a year, after all, and there’s no better way to shatter a barely recovered friendship than by doing something stupid like throwing out a declaration of love in the middle of explaining the myriad ways in which your family is deranged and terrible. So instead Sirius had hailed the Knight Bus and requested Bowness-on-Windermere.

Postscript, by yeats (1k)

“All that anger — I don’t like how it feels anymore, having it inside me.”

What forgiveness might look like.

One That You Can Keep, by thistlerose (1k)

“Where all my journies end / If you can make a promise / if it’s one that you can keep / I vow to come for you…”

bright ambassadors, by librae (1k)

(PWP, basically)

The Years to Come, by toyhto (3k)

Remus is watching him closely and trying to weight their love, trying to decide if it’s real enough or not, and he knows he would be doing the same if he didn’t already know. It’s real. It always was. They were complete idiots.

Escape for Another Day, by veeagainst (2k)

A life and death experience brings Sirius and Remus together.

four thousand two hundred and sixty, by Kel (2k)

I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn’t a happy thought, so the dementors couldn’t suck it out of me.

– Sirius Black, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Atlantic Specimen, by ourmutualfriend (3k)

Opiate dream.

A Peripheral Vision, by carmine_ink (2k)

Set in Cambridge at the end of the century, Remus and Sirius struggle to exist in a society that refuses to accept them.

Hold On to Whatever You Find, by fallovermelikestars (10k)

“…he hadn’t planned to jump Sirius’ bones almost as soon as he walked through the door, had actually planned to fix him a square meal and then set about avoiding him for a few days – or forever – but he’d been marinating in whiskey for over an hour and Sirius had fucking smiled at him as he pushed the door closed behind him and that smile, it’s always been Remus’s undoing.”

Then I Would Come and Find You, by RuinsPlume (2k)

This is what saves them every time.

between towers, by tigrrmilk (8k)

Through the doorway at the end of the entrance hall, he could see a wide portion of the small quad ahead. Green and lush. It was early October, and the sun was shining, thank the lord. Or at least thank Merlin. It was Michaelmas. And Remus was taking up a place at Oxford to read English.

Argentum, by happiestwhen (1k)

Memories are only as permanent as you allow them to be.

Homeless Near a Thousand Homes, by lorax (3k)

“He went there because he wanted to remember, and he stayed because he had no other place to be.”

Our lives will run like / Sparks through the stubble, by zambla (13k)

1984. Remus J Lupin, post first wizarding war, is in Berlin. His father has just died. He goes back to his childhood homes, the places he passed through, and realizes that his memory is a map that is folded on itself.

Told in interwoven present and past times, concerning his relationship to his parents, himself, and the traitor, Sirius Black.

My homage to the film Blue (1993) by the great English filmmaker Derek Jarman.

Diamonds and Rust, by toyhto (6k)

“My heart would get broken,” he says roughly, “that’s why.“

Sirius draws his hand back. “I wonder how that feels.”

“I don’t.”

The Season of Love and Death, by mustntgetmy (2k)

A little love letter to autumn, Remus/Sirius style. From their first kisses at Hogwarts beneath the Forbidden Forest foliage, to sharing cups of cocoa in a London park near the end of the first war.

The Man Who Counts Waves, by Underlucius (1k)

If he stops counting he’ll remember who lives on the other side of that azure flood, and then he would walk into the sea and never return. So he counts the waves.

The Impossible Season, by coyotesuspect (21k)

Six months after falling through the Veil, Sirius comes back. As a seventeen-year-old.

Remus takes him in.

A Candle Put Out, by sopdetly (2k)

Now they hadn’t had sex in months, and Sirius knew he pulled away from Remus in his sleep, when they managed to sleep in bed together.

Lay Down, by taffetablue (1k)

After, they Apparate home, saturated with rain and blood, and the oily slide of dark magic skidding along Remus’s skin like unfamiliar hands.

Ghost of Winter, by earlybloomingparenthesis (3k)

Christmas is coming and the bite of winter is in the air, and way up north in the Highlands the mountains are big and bleak enough to hide even Azkaban’s most wanted from prying eyes. All Remus can imagine is being snowbound alone with Sirius. Unfortunately, there’s a ghost who has other plans.

Wandering, Gets You Down, by hiddendaze (5k)

AU premise: Remus is in Ravenclaw and doesn’t really know Peter, James and Sirius. Consequently, there is no Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.

a country mile, by sea_schtick (1k)

The summer after Harry’s third year, and Sirius refuses to be alone.

To Fill A Gap, by berhanes (8k)

Sirius’ face is caught in a rectangle of late afternoon sun and Remus wants suddenly to reach across the three feet and fourteen years between them and touch him where the light hits. He lets himself imagine that he could, that in a moment he’ll just lean forward and trace the curve between Sirius’ neck and his jaw with his fingertips without it feeling like penitence. A different version of himself would’ve already done it. But then, a different version of himself wouldn’t be here in the first place.

Any Other Night, by mustntgetmy (6k)

In 1977, Remus and Sirius set about trying to kill the moon, and years later, in Azkaban, Sirius reflects on this and on his damaged relationship with Remus.

Of Monsters, by llassah (8k)

Sirius always expected to go into the Black family business. Said family business just happens to involve kneecappings, murder, and the most powerful criminals in London. When Sirius decides to leave home at nineteen with a briefcase full of money and a few other essentials, he has no idea that he will end up sharing a dosshouse with a lunatic in a tweed jacket with the reading habits of an Oxford don and staggering intermittent anger issues. Sad thing is, it’s probably the safest place for him right now. Until it isn’t.

stir the flame anew, by blanketed_in_stars (5k)

It’s a light tawny who sits patiently while he reads. Moony—send something back if it’s a bad time. Otherwise I’ll be there at noon. Cheers, Padfoot. There’s nothing more, as if it were the last note in a conversation they’d already been having, but Remus can’t recall anything of the sort. He’d remember if they’d talked about this. He’d remember, he thinks, watching the owl drink the water which he absentmindedly offers her, if they’d talked at all.

Two winters after the war, Remus receives an owl, and, shortly thereafter, an unexpected houseguest.

Souvenir, by sopdetly (3k)

Remus returns from another mission; Sirius has missed him.

Concomitant, by peccadilloes (1k)

Remus comes home and into the kitchen that evening with a soft blue book, and he sets it on the table.

“Some hipster hippie witch in Venice gave it to me,” he says. “Makes them.”

Sirius picks up the book and in his hands it changes, grows large and slim and harder bound. He rubs his thumb over its waxed thread, and its cover pools with longing.

a lie low in Los Angeles, oneiromancy

We’ll Both Forget the Breeze, by happiestwhen (1k)

In winter, time seems to trickle down with the melting snow.

[reddragdiva]

the state of the rationality, 2017: why artificial intelligence will kill us all before global warming

so! what’s eliezer yudkowsky been up to?

um

well! there’s arbital! the exciting new general encyclopedia uh mathematics encyclopedia uh general social site and apparent latest step in the sequence “sl4, overcomingbias, lesswrong” now that he can't be bothered with lw. no other audience would think that front page was a good idea. with the end of all things approaching fast per the above, he's doing his bit to SAVE HUMANITY HOW HE CAN: writing incomprehensible deep LW theology on arbital (see recent activity list at bottom).

i posted the above elsewhere and got a response from an actual AI engineer working at google. that response, posted with permission:

This is insane. The AI gold rush (which is a pretty good term) is not doing anything that feeds into his preferred disaster scenario. He believes in what he calls the AI FOOM, where an intelligent system is given the task of updating itself to be more intelligent, recursively. He believes, for whatever reason, that intelligence can be quantified and optimized for, and that the g factor is a real quantity rather than a statistical artifact. These aren't majority views, but it's not implausible. Or, at least, I'm the wrong kind of expert to say that they are implausible. I'm an AI guy, not a human intelligence guy. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G_factor_(psychometrics) So, let's generously take those as true. He believes that optimizing g is something that's possible. He's never addressed it directly, but a necessary piece of his belief in FOOM is that the upper bound on g is sufficiently high that it counts as superintelligence (or else the upper bound doesn't exist). As far as I know, there's no research on these points because the field of AI doesn't really include these sorts of questions, but let's pretend that these are true as well, and that we live in Ray Kurzweil's future. Keeping score, we're at two minority beliefs and two completely unresearched propositions accepted on faith. He believes that, while optimizing its own g factor, the intelligent system in question will have a high rate of return on improvements, that one unit of increased g factor will unlock cascading insights that contribute to the development of more than one additional unit of increased g. This is argued here: http://lesswrong.com/lw/we/recursive_selfimprovement/, and you'll find there's not a shred of argument there. It's bald assertion. He also baldly asserts that the "search space" (which is not the right term, but remember, he's a high school dropout autodidact with no formal AI education) for intelligence is smooth, with no "resource overhangs". I'm pretty sure he means to make the point that he expects to find relatively few local minima*. That's just unknowable, but while working on much much simpler optimizations, I have found absolutely no end of local minima. There are almost no complex problems without them. I would not be inclined to believe this if he had already done it, that's how unlikely it is. So now we're at two minority views, two unresearched but cogently phrased propositions, one bald assertion, and one deeply, deeply unlikely belief. This doesn't carry us all the way to his nightmare scenario, there's a lot more stuff in the house of cards that makes up his FOOM beliefs, but that's enough, really, to get the point of my next paragraph. We are not studying any of those things. The AI gold rush is almost entirely about deep neural networks in new and weird variations, or, if he's really up on the AI field, GANs, which are deep neural networks in new and weird variations plus a cute new training mechanism. (As I write this I realize he's almost certainly terrified of GANs for a misguided reason. I'll come back to that if someone wants to hear it.) None of this validates any of his beliefs. Deep neural networks are entirely inscrutable. No one anywhere can tell you why a deep neural network does what it does, so there's no reason to suspect that they will spontaneously evolve a capability that have proven to be beyond the very best AI experts in the world out of nowhere. Deep neural nets also have severely limited inputs and outputs. They are not capable of learning anything about new types of data or giving themselves new capabilities; the architecture doesn't support it at all. The sort of incremental increase in capabilities that Yudkowsky needs for his FOOM belief to come true does not exist, and really just can't be brought about. I'm not even halfway done with the reason that neural nets can't be the Yudkowsky bogeyman. They train too slowly for a FOOM. They don't use any of the Bayes stuff that's so essential to his other beliefs. They don't have any mechanism for incremental learning outside of a complete retraining**. They can't yet represent sufficiently complex structures to write code, let alone complex code, let alone code beyond the best AI programmers in the world. I'll stop here. It makes no goddamn sense. Maybe his beliefs have evolved from the AI FOOM days. I don't know. I've been impressed with how some of his other beliefs have changed to reflect reality. I'll go read what he has on Arbital and let y'all know if I'm way off base here. *minima on a loss function, maxima on "intelligence"; by habit I use the former but it might be more intuitive to think it terms of the quantity being optimized. If so, read this as "maxima". **someone might call me on this one; I should say instead that everyone I've ever worked with has done complete retraining, and if a better mechanism existed they'd probably be using it, but I can't say that there's definitely *not* such a mechanism. It's not impossible due to the nature of the architecture.

and, from a followup in which he explains general adversarial networks:

I guess it's pretty obvious why that might terrify Yudkowsky, right? I mean, this is all conjecture on my part since he didn't come out and say what he thought was so scary, but it seems to hold together and it's the best I can do absent actually talking to him. I realized while I was thinking about it earlier today, his whole ideology folds back in on itself. That's why he's got 5,000 links in every post he writes, so that he gives the appearance of having well-supported opinion. He probably thinks he has well-supported opinions, but if you try to hold the whole thing in your head at once, you see it's circular. The essential circular argument at the distilled core of the whole thing is "AI research is dangerous because the impending superintelligence will allow 3^^^3 units of pain to be distributed to every living human", and "Superintelligence is impending because of the dangerous irresponsibility of AI research". Usually you have to step through 3 or 4 intervening articles to find the loop (or bare assertion), but my sense is that there's always one. If I could ask Yudkowsky for anything at all it would be a single, self-contained argument, in less than 3,000 words, for why superintelligence is imminent.

So, starting from those two premises (which of course I believe to be false), that superintelligence is imminent and that AI research is dangerous, you can see why he'd be scared of GANs; it's exactly the sort of introspective AI that he is normally terrified will run away and become God. It looks like self-improvement, if you squint a little bit, and it is recursive, and you add those two things together along with a baseline belief that something is going to become superintelligent and end the world, and some AI technique is going to be responsible, you could pretty reasonably come to the conclusion that it's going to be this thing, this time. And Yudkowsky already believes that GOFAI ("Good Old Fashioned AI"; expert systems and decision theory and so on) techniques are not going to create God (source:http://lesswrong.com/lw/vv/logical_or_connectionist_ai/), so GANs are my best guess about his best guess for the end of the world. Invented in 2014, which is when he said that this whole situation got started ("The actual disaster started in 2014-2015"), so that fits too.

I think I already covered why it's not going to be a deep neural net (or any neural net) which ends the world, unless you count the brain of the guy with the nuclear codes.

he notes he didn’t write the above for an adversarial audience and notes there may be errors of detail. however, he’s confident in the general argument.

the other problem with the ai-foom scenario is that recursion of this sort doesn't work even when it's humans doing it. in Sustained Strong Recursion, EY tries to explain his idea better to those foolish people who don't just believe him, and uses various analogies involving Intel and the business of designing ever-faster CPU chips that an actual Intel engineer in the comments characterises as "an apples to fruit cocktail comparison". (note EY telling the first two people who said the exact things to shut up and stop talking.)

the essential problem is the fixed belief that recursive self-improvement will just happen, rather than being the explicit aim of billions of dollars' ongoing investment on a commercial basis.

overly optimistic commenter, downvoted to -5:

Seriously, I guess Eliezer really needs this kind of reality check wakeup, before his whole idea of "FOOM" and "recursion" etc... turns into complete cargo cult science.

robin hanson foreshadows the AI-Foom debate:

In the post Eliezer and comment discussion with me tries to offer a math definition of "recursive" but in this discussion about Intel he seems to revert to the definition I thought he was using all along, about whether growing X helps Y grow better which helps X grow better. I don't see any differential equations in the Intel discussion.

[donewithallthi5]

6th May - First draft feedback

Again the feedback I received from my supervisor was even more helpful than I could have anticipated. She has gone through the script line by line and pointed out any issues or narrative points that could be improved. I am pleased that she liked the ending. This is the aspect of the script I had put in the most thought into. The fact the ending comes across as emotional and powerful I believe shows that my script so far looks like it should be a success because, as said in previous post, the short films with great endings are the ones that stick with audiences.

Main points from feedback:

·         The way a voice over should be put in a script

·         Descriptions of characters and ages need to be made clear

·         Tenses in the script must be present

·         Sandra needs to be present in script

·         She made a point, which I agree with now, that Joseph would not lash out and punch the wall if he is in the acceptance phase.

·         The scene where Mary is murdered needs to be flushed out more

·         Still need more visuals

Feedback:

Script notes: TO WHOM I LEAVE - Owen Baker

 Well done on writing a first draft!

 Your layout looks good - but check that everything is written in PRESENT TENSE - as there are times that you slip into past tenses.

 When you first introduce JOSEPH - put his name in CAPITALS on introduction - and also describe him. Tell us his age, first impressions in how he looks, his attitude. It just takes a few words, but you need to create him so we can see him.

 Couple of typos in scene 1 = starring = staring, wrtite = write

 When you do a Voice over - you should put it like this, on same line as character name:

 JOSEPH (V.O)

 In 2nd scene, tell is the YEAR. You can either do that in the TRENCHES line, or as a caption over the images. But saying '20 year old Joseph' makes no sense unless we know how old he was in 1st scene! Yes, you need to tell us he is 20 here - but get his age in scene before.

 Watch your tenses in this scene, you slip into the past: looked-looks. Spelling - concered - concerned

 I think you can gives us more IMAGERY in this scene, it feels a bit underwritten in terms of trench activity. I like how there's a letter to link it though.

 Beware using the word 'suddenly' in scripts. It stops the action feeling 'sudden' - as you are stopping it being a surprise by saying 'suddenly. 'Artillery begins to EXPLODE' feels more active (you should put sounds in capitals).

 Nice link, the artillery to the echoed shouting in prison - caps = SHOUTING

 Train station scene - check tenses.

 Spelling payed = paid.

 Will be clearer if you say he looks at BABY PHILLIP - and can you use more images here? You don't give us enough at times. I'm not seeing MARY, age, first impressions? Is she excited, anxious? You need to dig deeper into the characterisation of your characters. Even the baby - it's invisible on the page. Saying 'You were an ugly kid' is a fun line - but I want to see the baby too!

 Look at the end point of each of your scenes. Most of them seem to be ending with dialogue/voice over. That's okay to keep things flowing, it's the link, the glue within the structure. But if you can find strong images around these end points too, you can lift this up a level in terms of visuals. remember - cinema is cinematic. Visuals matter.

 Prison cell, 2, tenses. Not much going on here in comparison with the length of the VO.

 You talk a lot about SANDRA - but we never even see her in the script. Why not? Is there a point where Joseph sees her? As it's like he's telling us about someone who isn't even in the film. Yes, she may be in son Phillip's life - but she's not in the actual script!

 Sp Josephs sits - joseph. Tenses - put =puts

 This is where Phillip talks a lot about Sandra - but she's never in the actual script. Even if we just see them through a window, kissing. Something!

 Sp New = knew

 Your dialogue feels natural and realistic here.

 Prison cell. I didn't know why Joseph's hands were bloody... but I guess he has been punching the walls? Not convinced by that, psychologically - as it feels like him writing this letter is part of his 'acceptance' that his time is up. And punching walls feels more like anger. In the 'stages of grief' - which could connect in to J's emotions regarding his own situation (his imminent death) the stages are: DENIAL, BARGAINING, ANGER, DEPRESSION, ACCEPTANCE. Which may be why the bloodied fists made me go???? As it doesn't feel like his current mood?

 I was intrigued by the line 'I'm sorry I ruined that day for you.' I hadn't originally realised that he's referring to the day of the actual dance (??? wouldn't a dance be at night?) Are J's questions more about what P did after the dance, with Sandra? It's not clear to me yet. So I'm like, is this about the dance, or a different day? Have a look at it (page 4) and see what you think, what you are trying to make the audience aware of - as I was a bit ??????

 It's clearer on page 5, that J is worried P had sex - and when Mary comes in, that's all good. The fight between them is good - the violence to Mary - and P getting knife and going against his dad is great.

 However - think about Phillip as a character. Is this is first time he has stood up to his dad? Grabbing a knife is a big deal - and it seems to come easily to Phillip. You say that the ''knife shaking in his hands and tears in his eyes' - which is great - but maybe that description comes in a bit late? Even a small thing like putting that description before saying 'Joseph looks at Phillip...' will put our focus on Phillip's action, rather than Joseph's reaction to it? It's worth a try.

 Sps - Joesphs grip =Joseph's - your - you're - Realsing = realising - starred- stare

 I like the VO in the garden, about P not getting in scraps. Watch your tenses though in action. Always use present tense!

 sp too = to

 pg 8 sp prsion - prison

 In this scene - you need to have Joseph ask the guard if he can make sure his son gets the letter. Even if he just says, 'It's for my son', or something.... It isn't done by psychic powers - it's done with DIALOGUE! You have the perfect opportunity to do that in this scene. 'Folds up the letter and gives it to the guard' isn't enough, is it? Especially as it is so important to Joseph. You can still have a line that gets this across, without giving away that his son is dead...

 The 'for what happened to your mother' line made me go 'OMG he killed her!'. But even though that made me go wow, it then meant that there was no surprise when that happens. Would it be better to say 'for what happened...' but take 'to your mother' our? Mmmm..

 Pg 8. You need to sort your ages out. You can't write 'Joseph looks the same age as in the cell' - as you never TOLD us how old he was in the cell. So put his age in 1st scene, and then you can tell us he is that age here. So we see it's the same timeline. Also - Mary will be older too. You are focusing so much on Joseph you are forgetting that the other characters matter too.

 Is there something that triggers J's attack here. Is 'Pass me the plate' enough?

 I made a notes here, that your dialogue in this scene, and sometime in others - feels a bit 'on the nose'. Sometimes that's okay, like when characters are angry and saying exactly what they feel - but if you look at your scenes and try to find the SUBTEXT - as in, what we understand from the lines which isn't said, where a line has more resonance as we know its real meaning.

 The trigger line' You should never have been a father' feels like it connects with your story - but can the end of this scene go a bit further and do more? Grabbing a glass and turning towards Mary didn't quite give me enough ooooomph. He is about to attack her, but I didn't get enough of that feeling of dread. Visuals, emotions, action - you can dig into these things more to make your scenes really pop.

 Next scene - what LOCATION in the PRISON? You need to be precise. Where are we and what are we seeing? Show more!

 The bottom of page 9 and top of 10 were, for me, the most successful part of your script - as you start to let the VO fall away, it stops explaining things, and instead you use your visuals and editing to progress the story. That is much more powerful. That is what I mean by subtext! The 'You deserved a different father' line is great!

 You may still be able to get a bit more out of the visuals here though.

 Also - the final scene, at the graveyard, will work better if you have an earlier exchange with the guard that is clearer. Somehow that last scene feels a bit fast - like I wanted to linger on this for a moment more, to take it in. Or maybe it just needs a beat to remind us that Joseph is dead too? His empty cell? Mmm, not sure. It could simply be a matter of seeing how it times out on the page. If you put a line gap between - 'places the letter down on the grave' and then 'He steps back' - that gives a pause before the reveal that it's the son's grave. Even a tiny pause on the page can affect the rhythms of a script in a precise way.

 So - a powerful ending, from page 9-10 really flies. You can go back to your earlier scenes, find more VISUALS and dig deeper into your CHARACTERISATION, of Joseph, Phillip, Mary. Look at your dialogue - and think about subtext. Even in the letter, are there times when you can pull more subtext out of that? The reason things work better towards the end is because, by then, the subtext is there. That '...you were everything...' line towards the end is so emotional! Page 9 -10, you nail it!

 Think about Sandra. There is a LOT of talk about her - but she never even appears, and I think you need to do something about that - even if it's just a nosy Joseph seeing her out the window? Kissing, an embrace? It just felt odd to me that she's set-up verbally, but is never paid-off.

 So... visuals, characterisation (including clarity on ages), subtext, tenses - all things to push forwards with in your next draft. Good luck!

[jezfletcher]

The Oscars 2019

This is two years in a row now that I've seen every single Oscar-nominated feature film, and I have a fear that the completist in me now sees this as something I need to justify doing every year going forward. But I've only managed it the past few years because I've happened to have been in the United States in the period leading up to the Oscars. And honestly, that's not something I necessarily want to keep doing. So, enjoy it while it lasts, is I guess what I'm saying. This has not been a good year for the Oscars, themselves, obviously—what with all of the stupid things they've been trying to do to make the awards ceremony more relevant to people who don't travel to another country to watch all of the nominated films. Obviously, I'm going to keep watching anyway. However, I've found that the films this year have all been of a reasonably good standard. Sure, there have been some which lean too heavily on the formula, and some which fall pretty flat. But there's only one film I think this year that I actively hated, and usually there's at least a handful. So good work in screening out most of the absolute dross, Academy voters. By the same token, while there were some excellent films this year, many of, say, my top 10 are not films that I would say I completely loved either. In previous years, I've had 10 or more films that have absolutely filled me with joy. Anyway, let's get to the count down. As usual, I'm going from top to bottom, because my bottom films tend to be more fun to write (and, I believe, to read). But be aware, as I said above, there are fewer films than usual that are worthy of a proper shellacking.

1. Free Solo

Directed by Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi & Jimmy Chin

My top film this year is an honestly brilliant, monumental piece of film-making. It catalogues the first solo ascent of El Capitan in Yosemite done without safety ropes, which is enough of an achievement that a fairly dry account would still be fairly compelling. But the filmmakers really manage to make this something profoundly more as a piece of cinema. We follow Alex Honnold, a professional rock climber, as he prepares for the ascent, and we get a deep sense of the danger involved in such an endeavour, and the mindset required of a person to even attempt something so monumental. More interestingly, the filmmakers delve into what makes up the man, with a particular focus on his burgeoning relationship with his girlfriend Sanni McCandless—what we discover is probably his first real romantic relationship. This adds such another level of interest to the film; it provides the human connection we need to not only see Honnold as more than a machine. But it also provides the stakes to make the danger of the ascent resonate with us. By the time we actually see the ascent——we not only understand the risks involved, but the consequences for characters that we care about were things to go wrong. It makes for absolutely scintillating viewing. And there's another level (I know, does it need more?). The filmmakers themselves make the choice to insert themselves into the story as well—it's a ploy that often massively backfires for me (as it did last year with Icarus), but in this case, it's a masterful stroke. It allows the introspection of the makers to explore how complicit they are in something potentially horrific. Is the presence of cameras pushing Honnold beyond his limits? Is this something he would attempt were there not a documentary film crew following him? How do they feel about capturing on film the death of someone they consider a friend, knowing full well before they start the cameras rolling that this might be how it ends up? What if their mere presence in filming him causes him to make a mistake? These are all questions which are well-explored in the film itself. In the end, watching the footage of the actual ascent is magnified a hundred-fold due to the groundwork in the storytelling. This is why this film ends up being much much more than a technically-proficient documentation of an incredible human feat. It becomes a masterful achievement in itself.

2. First Reformed

Directed by Paul Schrader

I honestly knew almost nothing about this film before sitting down to watching it, apart from that it was nominated for Best Original Screenplay. The film tells of a protestant priest, Ernst Toller (Hawke), who is now the chaplain of the First Reformed church, a historical chapel now mostly serving as a tourist attraction, but which is now mostly run by the local megachurch. To say much about the plot is to give away vital points, which are better left to unravel at their own pace on screen. But it manages to do so gently while building into a huge emotional impact. It's in no small part to Ethan Hawke, who is utterly compelling as the complex Toller. It's just a beautifully constructed film, well-shot in winter bleakness, and capturing the themes that the screenplay demands of it. It touches on deep issues of many kinds: faith, environmentalism, the legacy you consider as you face death. And each is woven into a tapestry that as a whole is nothing short of sublime. Yes, it's a very fine film, and one which I recommend even as I know it will not be to everyone's tastes as it is to mine. I think it's a(nother) testament to the fact that I often find the films on the Screenplay nominations to be the source of hidden gems that don't turn up otherwise.

3. Roma

Directed by Alfonso Cuarón

There's certainly a bit of momentum behind this one to take out Best Picture, and while I obviously liked it (sitting as it is here high in my rankings), it's an unexpected film to be the frontrunner. It's released by Netflix, it's a foreign-language film, in black and white. It's also not the crowd-pleasing story you often see in a front-runner. But maybe that's a sign that the Academy is actually doing its fucking job for once. But this is indeed a brilliant film. It's a film really made with care and craft. Everything is beautifully done—the cinematography is astonishing (I saw it at the cinema, which amplified it, but I'm sure much of it still resonates on a smaller screen), the production design is crystal perfect in setting up this world of two worlds between the upper and lower classes in a Mexico City household. But it's not just a technical film, it's one crafted with love, and a story which resonates with emotional impact. The craft just allows us to better immerse ourselves in the story and its human participants. It feels like a labour of love for Cuarón, and he has all the skills required to make it compelling on screen. If this wins Best Picture, I'll be cheering, even though it's the outcome that everyone expects. I think this winning the award will show that the Academy is really now genuinely awarding excellence in filmmaking.

4. Black Panther

Directed by Ryan Coogler

I honestly feel as though Marvel Studios is going to take the wrong message out of Black Panther, one of its obviously biggest hits, and, honestly, probably the best superhero film ever made. This film was great not because it had the best action sequences, the best characterisation, the best super powers, or because they've perfected digital eyelash rendering. It was brilliant because they got the stakes right, and they managed to make them connect to the audience. This, I believe, is squarely the doing of Ryan Coogler, who had previously managed to do something similar with the Rocky series in Creed. But credit to Marvel for giving him the creative freedom to do just that. The film works so well because we see the resonances of Wakanda in our world—it's relevant right now, right this minute when you walk out of the cinema. It's not merely a piece of escapism, despite the fact that there are technically good action sequences and visual effects. Moreover, it manages to avoid the ever-escalating tropes of superhero films which seem to think that you need to make them more exciting by increasing the size of the destruction were our heroes to fail. Let's be honest——to me, the destruction of my home & family, the destruction of my city, my planet, or the universe pretty much work out to the same net outcome. But Black Panther really grapples with the legacy of the choices of history—and it ties them to the modern day in a subtle but very powerful way. So sure, go for the special effects, but you'll likely get more out of it than a well-made superhero film. That's the reason why this sits so high on my list. I just hope that Marvel sees it the same way, and that they have a willingness to explore this kind of filmmaking in the future. Given the success of Black Panther, I hope they will.

5. The Favourite

Directed by Yorgos Lanthimos

I was so waiting for this film by Lanthimos. I've loved what he's done back to Dogtooth, but in every film he'd done to this point there was a certain kind of similarity——it was as though he had taken the basic structure of Dogtooth and was replaying it in different ways and in different scenarios. Breaking out of the mould by working with a script not written by the director himself seems to have been a good move, because we get to see Lanthimos's skills in another domain. And I'm very happy about that. The story revolves around a love triangle between three women, Queen Anne (Olivia Colman), Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough (Rachel Weisz), and Abigail Hill (Emma Stone), and the various political machinations surrounding the war in France. It's interesting enough as a historical drama, but the focus and the success of the film both are in the exploration of the relationships. Olivia Colman is utterly brilliant as Queen Anne, and I believe is the front-runner to take out the award, thereby denying Lady Gaga her own kind of fairytale. She manages to balance so many elements to her performance——the power, the insecurity, the vulnerability, the strength. She is at times both compelling and repellent. It's the kind of performance that comes around once in a career for an actor, and it requires such skill on the part of the performer and the people surrounding her to get it so pitch-perfect. It's a really engaging film all up, and one which is unusual in all the ways you want Yorgos Lanthimos's films to be. But it's also so different from his oeuvre to date that I feel like it's adding something more to the repertoire than any of his films had done since Dogtooth. That's high praise from me.

6. First Man

Directed by Damien Chazelle

I was quite concerned about this film. Having loved Whiplash and having abhorred La La Land, I wasn't quite sure where I'd land on Damien Chazelle's latest. But it's the kind of story I really love (and honestly, intrinsically an excellent story), and it sounded different enough to La La Land that I was willing to give it a shot. And honestly, it was kind of brilliant. I know, I still had a bit of a La La Land hangover, but I found it a really surprisingly believable portrait of Neil Armstrong, and an utterly engaging tale of the race to put a man on the moon. Ryan Gosling shakes off his last role with Chazelle, and returns to his laconic best self as the notably reserved Armstrong, and while that's something of a blank canvas, it's also a strong central performance for a film like this. More surprisingly, perhaps, is that the directorial touches in this are actually one of the strongest elements, which shows that Chazelle perhaps has something more in his arsenal than banality. There's a reserved quality to the filmmaking which matches its subject, and gives the film at time an impressionistic feel. Surprisingly it works. More than that, the somewhat dreamlike quality of parts of the production means that the elements of action, in particular the Gemini 8 mission, become stronger and more forceful by comparison. I really thought this was a very good film indeed, and one which definitely fell off the radar after it was released many months back. But I think it's one that's going to stand up over time. In a way that La La Land certainly will not.

7. The Ballad of Buster Scruggs

Directed by Joel & Ethan Coen

This is a true anthology film. Six short films set in the Old West, which share some similar themes and mood, but are otherwise disconnected from one another. Am I surprised that it's this high? Maybe, but it does have the Coen brothers at the helm, and a surprisingly strong cast. Why this film is so successful though is because each of the stories holds up on its own, perhaps with the exception of the eponymous tale, which serves more as a way to introduce the rest of the tales, in any case. But all the rest grabbed my attention. In particular, I found The Gal Who Got Rattled and All Gold Canyon genuinely enjoyable to watch, and Meal Ticket was a story with a strong emotional impact. But it's a film that rides on the success of its individual pieces, and it's truly quite exceptional that each of the pieces manages to be strong enough to stand up on its own. As a collection, I found them a very entertaining way to spend my time.

8. Never Look Away

Directed by Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck

One of the fine crop of foreign language Oscars this year, this film (titled "Work Without Author" in German) follows the life of a young artist as he tries to find a path in the contemporary art world while processing the resonances of his childhood, in particular the death of his beloved Aunt at the hands of the Nazis. It's a brilliantly constructed film, and one which allows its meaning to become fully realised piece by piece. At the same time, the director carefully balances the revelations with a sense of dramatic irony, allowing us to see things slightly before the characters themselves discover them. It's a fine balance to do this well enough to keep the film captivating. I also found the film to be quite a compelling portrait (haha) of the mid-century modern art movement. Although it's something I don't know much about, it's presented in such a way that it feels like it's providing insights into the movement. It shows the way in which even the most abstract of forms can find scope for political and social commentary. In some senses that puts it two steps adrift of making actual political commentary itself, but expounding the value of art is to some extent a purely political position nowadays. Anyway, I enjoyed this film a great deal, and I honestly think it's a film with even more value than I probably ascribed it myself. It's a strong Foreign Language Oscar field this year, but in another year, I could definitely see this being a winner.

9. The Wife

Directed by Björn Runge

I honestly found this film captivating. Lead by strong performances from Glenn Close (an actress I always love), and Jonathan Pryce, it tells the tale of a husband and wife, as the husband travels to Stockholm to accept the Nobel Prize for Literature. The film, however, also focuses on their early relationship through flashbacks, as we see the cracks in their facade start to become more noticeable. Thematically, there's a strong feminist element to the story, and it makes for a suitably ascerbic lens for the tale. What could be overplayed as melodrama has a cutting satire at its core, which helps make the film deeper and more resonant than it might otherwise have been. Helping this is Glenn Close's restrained, but certainly brilliant, performance, which has rightly earned her a nod for Best Actress. Interestingly, it's the only nomination for this film: perhaps in other years this would have seen more acclaim in other categories, but I do feel that there was a trend against more traditional filmmaking—and to some extent, this does follow a certain type of film-making formula. But at the same time, when the formula is put on screen as well as it is here, I can't help but enjoy myself with it.

10. Mary Poppins Returns

Directed by Rob Marshall

I remember very much enjoying Mary Poppins as a child, even though it's a film that I'd not seen for many years when I watched the (very long-in-coming) sequel. But the film very much manages to capture the spirit of the original, while also updating enough to be palatable to a modern audience. This is quite a feat, and I'll admit that I'm surprised Rob Marshall was the one to pull it off. One of the most brilliant things that this film managed to do is to make me see the original a different way. As a child, it's easy to accept all of the magical happenings in the presence of Mary Poppins at face value, but this film makes you look at them through the lens of adulthood, as Jane & Michael Banks look back on their childhood and question their own memories. It's a striking thing to do, and it makes both the original and this one seem deeper films as a result. It's also true that to some extent this film is trying to recapture some of the iconic sequences of the original, and has mixed success——the animated sequence is just about as delightful in this one as in the original, but the lamplighters' big dance number doesn't quite capture the magic and energy of the chimney sweeps dancing on the rooftops. All up though, I found this quite a magical experience, and that probably means its utterly successful in its goals. Despite some reservations, I was able to embrace it in the way that it wanted me to. And I had a great time doing it.

11. BlacKkKlansman

Directed by Spike Lee

Outside of the top ten, I'm going to be a bit briefer in my write-ups, for the sake of time (mine and yours), and will probably limit my writeups in the central section to just a paragraph each. Starting with BlacKkKlansmanm, a surprisingly fun film about a black police officer who goes undercover (in a manner) to infiltrate the KKK. Based on a true story, it's a lot of fun, and one which really tried to pound home its message about the perils of accepting white supremacy in the mainstream. It's an unsubtle film when it comes to its politics, but we're in an era that doesn't respect subtlety any more.

12. Mary Queen of Scots

Directed by Josie Rourke

I really enjoyed this film, although I'll admit that it's a film that plays to my particular traits. Historical drama starring Saoirse Ronan is always going to be in my wheelhouse. And this is a lush production, well served by its two nominations for Costume Design and Makeup & Hairstyling. It's an interesting take on the story two, focusing mostly on the tension between Mary of Scotland and Queen Elizabeth's desire for familial closeness despite the underlying political tension. It's an interesting framing, albeit one which many critics have pooh-poohed for having little historical basis. But I still liked it. I'll keep seeing films like this, in the same way that everyone else will keep going to see the latest Marvel film.

13. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse

Directed by Bob Persichetti, Peter Ramsey, Rodney Rothman

This was a really engaging detour from the regular superhero fare. As an animated film, it has a leeway to do something quite different, and this film chose to do so in a way which accentuates the comic book form on which it is based. It's a decent, if fairly convoluted story, but it adds something to the Spiderman ethos which I think is warranted. It's an enjoyable film, and one which I liked a lot more than many of its ilk.

14. At Eternity's Gate

Directed by Julian Schnabel

Willem Dafoe is in his golden era, quite clearly. Here, he provides a startling portrait of Vincent Van Gogh, a man who had little success in his life, and suffered a great deal because of it. This film manages to both explicate why this may have been the case, and also to illustrate to a great extent why there genuinely is brilliance to Van Gogh's work. Director Julian Schnabel (best known for directing The Diving Bell & The Butterfly is an artist himself, and he puts a distinctly impressionistic form on the film, which is a perfect touch, especially when you have such a powerhouse in the lead role to ground it in humanistic reality. It isn't a really easy film to watch, but there is brilliance within it.

15. If Beale Street Could Talk

Directed by Barry Jenkins

An adaptation of James Baldwin's novel of the same name, this is a fine film with a good deal of resonance in the modern world. It follows a non-linear storyline following Tish (KiKi Layne) and Fonny (Stephan James), as they explore life as young lovers, as well as dealing with the aftermath of Fonny's arrest years later. It deals a great deal with the injustices of the time, but strongly resonates in a time when the same injustices survive in much the same form. It's also quite a literary film, with Tish's narration coming straight from Baldwin's, which is rich in poetry. It provides a juxtaposition with the naturalistic dialogue of the scenes, which at time jars, but it allows more of Baldwin's intended work onto the screen. And that's a good thing.

16. Solo: A Star Wars Story

Directed by Ron Howard

I seem to be largely alone in liking this film. Beset as it was with production difficulties, it's really quite something that it managed to come out as well as it did. And honestly, I think it came out pretty damn well. It's the kind of film that I think Lucasfilm really wanted to be making to expand the Star Wars universe. It doesn't need to really push the main storyline of the various wars, but it can have a bit of fun along the way. The set pieces are inventive and engaging, and well produced in such a way that you can feel and follow along with the action, and the cast of characters are well drawn and entertaining. Hell, even Alden Ehrenreich is quite good at channelling the cool of young Harrison Ford. So, despite everything, I think this managed to be successful in just about every way you might have expected it to be. I don't know what everyone else is complaining about.

17. Ralph Breaks The Internet

Directed by Rich Moor & Phil Johnston

I was a big fan of the first Wreck-It Ralph film, which managed to beautifully capture its subject matter, while also providing a snide commentary on it. So it's no surprise that I enjoyed the sequel as well. Admittedly, though, this isn't as good as the original, largely due to lacking the freshness of the concept of the original. What replaces it is satirisation of internet culture, some of which is successful (like Ralph's series of viral videos), and some which is less so, in particularly the personification of certain aspects of internet infrastructure. The new realm also gives the filmmakers license to shoe-horn in a whole stack more pop-culture references, and these feel sloppy to a large extent. But overall, there's enough charisma in the characters, and in the concepts that they're playing with that the film is still successful. It's just less successful than the original.

18. Cold War

Directed by Pawel Pawlikowski

Another good foreign language film from this year, it tells the story of a teacher and student who develop a passionate, destructive relationship around the time of the segregation of Germany. Forced to pursue propaganda in communist Poland, the film follows the destruction of the characters after one decides to flee to West Germany. It's a beautifully shot film, and one with a lot of artistic merit. However, I found the story to be a little bit tired at times, and it lacked the emotional resonance that another similar film might have had—perhaps due to the fact that both of the main characters are at times rather unpleasant. It's still a good film, but there's a reason it's in 18th place rather than rubbing shoulders with Roma and Never Look Away.

19. Shoplifters

Directed by Hirokazu Koreeda

Speaking of foreign language films that don't quite make the cut, here we have the latest from Koreeda Hirokazu, who I honestly think of as one of the finest filmmakers currently working in the world today. What is it that made this film resonate with me less than his previous work? Honestly, I'm trying to figure that out myself, because on the surface this bears much similarity to some of his previous films that I've loved, in particular Nobody Knows. This film tells the tale of a man and a woman living in poverty, and teaching their children to steal. I think I've just really enjoyed the subdued nature of some of his previous works, and this one is genuinely more plot-driven, and never necessarily in a way that you expect. I think that I could watch this at a different time and a different place, and probably have quite a different reaction to it. That's maybe just a cheating way of getting out of working out why it didn't work for me this time. But I'm still going to be following Koreeda's work in the future.

20. A Star Is Born

Directed by Bradley Cooper

I was deeply skeptical of this film when it came out. Why on earth did Bradley Cooper (of all people) feel the need (or the right) to remake A Star Is Born (again). But I was surprised as many people were when it turns out this is genuinely very good. In fact, having watched some of the previous adaptations, I can honestly believe that this is the best adaptation yet made of the story. Lady Gaga is, indeed, something of a revelation in a dramatic role, and Bradley Cooper is serviceable in front of the camera and behind it (although he does put himself in front of the camera much more than is warranted). Moreover, there is genuine thought in the musical numbers, including Shallow, up for Best Original Song, which I'll admit is the only of the nominees that I can still hum along to after the film. All up, it's a film that has its limits, but it's a perfectly serviceable adaptation.

21. Can You Ever Forgive Me?

Directed by Marielle Heller

An interesting and somewhat unexpected film, about author Lee Israel, who faces a decline in her success and turns to forging letters from celebrities in order to make a living. It's an odd premise for a film, but it's put together with a lot of heart, and pulled off through strong performances from Melissa McCarthy as Israel, and Richard E. Grant as a miscreant who she befriends. It's played without a lot of sympathy for any of its characters, despite the way it's structured—intrinsically there is something that puts you at arms length. It feels like a delibrate decision by the director, but at the same time it did limit my enjoyment somewhat.

22. Incredibles 2

Directed by Brad Bird

The Incredibles was another of those animated films which really managed to break out of its mould to some extent, and provide a concept that had its tongue in its cheek to the extent that an otherwise straightforward story would seem transgressive in some form. But as a result, like Wreck It Ralph 2: The Ralphening above, this is less than the original film. Since the conceit of the first is now not novel, we're left with just revisiting the characters in a different scenario. I think it does help that the film focuses this time largely on Elastigirl, who is curiously but enjoyably performed by Holly Hunter (who, I'll note, doesn't get top billing, despite being clearly the main character in this film). But there's only so much impact that these characters can have the second time around, when the world is already established. This is perhaps the first film on this list that I can say the world probably could have done without. Despite my enjoyment of it.

23. Hale County This Morning, This Evening

Directed by RaMell Ross

A very impressionistic documentary, this film takes snippets of life from the inhabitants of Hale County in Alabama, focusing on tiny pieces of vignettes (calling them vignettes themselves is overselling them), it manages to fuse the pieces together into the semblance of greater meaning. While it's up to you how you interpret them, it's hard to deny that there's something to the pieces. It's also beautifully shot, and RaMell Ross takes great joy in expressing the beauty in the mundane——a particularly poignant sequence shows light streaming through fog in jagged shards, while the director talks off screen about the beauty of the scene to someone asking why he's set up a camera on this street in this part of town. It's a film that's perhaps too ephemeral to grasp at times, but it's still an artistic construction.

24. Minding the Gap

Directed by Bing Liu

An interesting documentary from first-time director Bing Liu, who returns to his hometown of Rockford, Illinois, and chronicles the lives of his friends who he was connected with through skateboarding. He explores where life has taken them since adulthood has been thrust upon them, and examines themes of poverty, especially its cyclic nature. It doesn't shy away from tough questions and themes either, and the filmmaker is quite skillful in managing to make it as autobiographical as it is, while also seeming to be hands-off in its filming. I didn't like it, overall, as much as many of the films above it here, obviously, but that's not to detract from it as a piece of cinema. M

25. Isle of Dogs

Directed by Wes Anderson

I honestly thought this was going to end up lower on my list. I was honestly pretty skeptical about this from a conceptual point of view, and it seemed like an odd choice for Anderson to take on, unless he'd had a particularly good time making The Fantastic Mr. Fox. But it's not a bad film. It's a bit formulaic, but it's made up for in excess of Wes Anderson's stylistic embellishments. I honestly just kind of hope that they're put to better use in the next film he makes.

26. RBG

Directed by Betsy West & Julie Cohen

This is a perfectly serviceable documentary about Ruth Bader Ginsberg. The subject matter is very interesting, and watching this portrait of the supreme court justice is entertaining just intrinsically. It's not an inventive or exemplary exercise in artistic filmmaking though, and that's why it's below some of the other documentaries, even those which I might have found less intrinsically interesting.

27. Mirai

Directed by Mamoru Hosoda

Ah, there's a good tradition in rounding out the Best Animated Feature category with an anime film, and this year's is Mirai No Mirai (Mirai of the Future), a film which explores the changes in a family from the perspective of a young boy who has recently gained a new baby sister, Mirai. Through a sequence of fantastical episodes, he interacts with both his sister from the future, the personification of their dog (who misses the time before any children, when he was the prince of the household), and other characters rounding out their family history. It ties the past to the future, and explores family in an interesting way, wresting pathos from its story at many points. My only reticence in really embracing this is that it feels extremely slow, and the episodic nature of the film really restricts it from feeling as though it can build up any kind of momentum. Over and over again, it feels like we're just resetting in the present. Only at the end does it manage to tie everything together, and to be honest, I was a bit over it by then.

28. Border

Directed by Ali Abbasi

I found this a pretty unpleasant film, but it's hard to deny that it's a pretty singular one as well. It follows Tine (Eva Melander), who works as a border guard for the ferry between Sweden and Denmark, and who has the ability to sniff out people hiding contraband. She meets a man who resembles her strange facial structure, when he tries to cross the border, and the two strike up an unusual friendship, as he helps her discover her real self. The concept behind the film is honestly pretty unusual, and the way that it plays out actively kind of alienates the audience. But it's hard to deny the impact.

29. Of Fathers And Sons

Directed by Talal Derki

This is a documentary that honestly has a fascinating story behind it. It follows a family helmed by an extremist in the al-Nusra Front in Syria, and his influence in forcing his children along the same path. It's notable for the almost unfettered access that the filmmaker Talal Derki has to these people, and the fact that it tells a story that would otherwise be lost. It's an achievement that it was created at all. But honestly, I found it a pretty indifferent film. Narratively speaking, it doesn't really capture the attention of the audience, unless you already have an ingrained interest in the subject matter. By necessity, it's shot with largely handheld digital camera work, which further alienates the subject and the audience. As a result, I found there were always barriers between me and the film, and I didn't really engage with it in the way it wanted me to. Not a film I disliked, but certainly one that sits at the lower end of my list.

30. A Quiet Place

Directed by John Krasinski

Another film that is conceptually pretty good, but really let down by its execution. I honestly had so many problems with this film, from the obvious "oh god these characters are too stupid to live", to some of the directorial choices, including the mind-boggling decision to ruin moments of silent tension with non-diagetic music. For a film that's based around the idea that noises can kill you, it effectively ruins any tension that comes from the concept. It's a shame, because honestly, this was one of the more interesting ideas for a film in some years, and I really wanted it to be good, and before I saw it, people had told me it was good. I found this to be a real disappointment though.

31. Capernaum

Directed by Nadine Labaki

I'll admit it: this film is so low mostly because I found it such a struggle to watch. It's a deeply, deeply depressing film, not an intrinsically bad one. It focuses on a young boy, Zain, living on the streets of Lebanon. Opening with him suing his parents for giving birth to him, it then delves deeply into the kind of horrors that could result in such a statement. It's a genuinely unpleasant film, and one which feels, at times, obscene for its (undoubtedly realistic) depiction of severe poverty. It's a powerful film for this reason, but I honestly found it excruciating: in particular a sequence where Zain is left to care for a baby on his own when the baby's mother is arrested. It does have a very vaguely positive suggestion towards the end of the film, but by the end it's almost too late to save the film, and I was already to deep to see any sense of optimism.

32. Bohemian Rhapsody

Directed by Bryan Singer & Dexter Fletcher

Alright, I have things to say about this film, so I'll probably write a couple of paragraphs. First up: this just isn't that good a film. At best, it follows the formula of the musical biopic really closely, to the extent that it almost starts to feel like a parody of itself——or at best it feels like a tired cliche. (Someone, not me, pointed out that it was basically Walk Hard, which is such a funny and insightful observation). But worse than this, it's just not very well made. The dialogue is, at times, cringe-worthy. It's clunky, it's unnatural, or it stinks up the joint with trying to seem profound, and bombing terribly. It's shot in a really quite pedestrian way, and doesn't manage to capture to any great extent the spectacle of one of the century's greatest rock bands. To his credit, Rami Malek does his utmost with the material he's given, and tracks out a fairly compelling figure as Freddy Mercury. I found him honestly pretty engaging on screen, and certainly quite a sympathetic character. Overall, indeed, it paints a fairly rosy portrait of the band (a band I like a good deal), especially Brian May and Roger Taylor. And their music being such a large part of the film gives it a certain intrinsic enjoyment. But to be honest, the quality of the music actually made me angrier about the film as a whole: Queen deserves a better biopic than this one, and I'm really disappointed that this is what they got. It doesn't help that it was thrown into production chaos, no doubt, and that seems like it mostly rests on the shoulders of Bryan Singer—by all accounts a pretty unpleasant dude. For his sake, I hope this doesn't get any accolades. But to be honest, it doesn't really deserve any in any case.

33. Green Book

Directed by Peter Farrelly

You may notice that to some extent, the films that end up near the bottom of this list are those which are not intrinsically bad in the traditional sense, but merely those which too rigidly follow an ascribed formula. Green Book is definitely one of the biggest offenders this year, and this crime is compounded by the fact that apparently there is significant license taken with the reality of the story in order to make it more rigidly adhere to the formula. There's something to be said for Maharshala Ali's laconic portrayal of Don Shirley, and Viggo Mortenson provides the classic foil as his Italian-American driver-slash-bodyguard. But apart from the chemistry of the leads, there's almost nothing in this film that we haven't seen hundreds of times before. It's a predictable clash-of-cultures film that doesn't even manage to eke out the cultural and social messages you might want from a film a black man travelling in the deep south——outside the most mundane and pedestrian. "Wow, racism is bad isn't it?" it seems to scream at every turn, while never once really engaging with the subject matter at a deeper level. Really, we've gone beyond that point in cinema now right? Hell, Black Panther had far, far more engaging points than this film. So yeah, this film really struggled to survive after you cracked through its wafer-thin shell. It honestly didn't have a lot to say in any really deep way, and while you might enjoy the story on the surface, it's hard to really take it seriously when you take a deeper look.

34. Vice

Directed by Adam McKay

Look, this just wasn't a great film. I thought there'd be a certain amount of fun from the portrayals from Christian Bale as Dick Cheney, and Sam Rockwell as George Dubya, but while Christian Bale is serviceable, after a while it starts to feel a little like a caricature (which fits with the overall irreverent feel of the film from the somewhat odious Adam McKay). And Sam Rockwell is fun, but he gets very little screen time. Overall though, this fails because of the same stylistic choices Adam McKay made in The Big Short, a film I found equally vacuous. There's some commentary to be made later in the film——suggesting that it was the Bush/Cheney administration (and in particular Dick Cheney), which led to the current state of American politics. It's probably a good point to make, but this wasn't the right film to make it. It's a shame.

35. Christopher Robin

Directed by Marc Forster

This was, conceptually, a real mess. The idea is that Christopher Robin, best friend of Winnie-The-Pooh, has grown up, and no longer visits the Hundred Acre Wood. Instead, he has a menial job and a family to support. Pooh goes looking for him one day and causes havoc in the real world. It professes to have things to say about lost childhood—and indeed, I could see a better film based around the same kind of concept. But this is only so good. Fortunately, this is only up for Best Visual Effects, and there is something to that, with the compositing of the characters being relatively well done—indeed, there is an achievement in so well blending the cartoonish qualities of the animals with the real world, and not letting either feel misplaced. But that's a technical achievement in a film that had some fundamental cinematic flaws. And let's face it: Paddington and Paddington 2 had the same technical achievements, and used them in far, far superior films.

36. Avengers: Infinity War

Directed by Anthony & Joe Russo

Eh... I don't even really know what to say about this aside from the things I've already made mention of in the better superhero films ahead of this. My problems with this are twofold: firstly, as I mentioned above, the stakes in this film are so high as to be meaningless. I don't care about Thanos having the power to destroy the universe——it's at a level that has no personal resonance. And I honestly can't see anyone in the audience on the edge of their seat going "oh no, what happens if Thanos gets the last Infinity Stone??". Secondly, and this is a problem with all of the Avengers films to date: the cast is so large that the screen time of any one character is limited, and the ability to give anyone a convincing personal storyline even more so. That doesn't stop the Russos from trying though, and to their minor credit, things are helped somewhat by splitting the Avengers into distinct sub-plots which we jump between. But that only helps a certain amount. Overall, this felt like a pretty underwhelming, and slightly cynical entry in the Marvel money machine.

37. Ready Player One

Directed by Steven Spielberg

Do you remember when Steven Spielberg was a good director? I don't even mean, like, a visionary director: creator of blockbusters, classics like E.T. and Indiana Jones. I just mean good. Solid filmmaking with a good conceit and laudable subject matter. Because fuck me if it isn't a long, long time since we've seen that man. The latest in a string of stink-bombs from Spielberg is Ready Player One, and let's be fair to him, this is a stink-bomb intrinsically. All Spielberg does is put it up on screen, perhaps, you might even say, competently. Because the entire conceit of this film is straight up balls. Spielberg just either lacks the insight or the will to turn it into something, anything, slightly better. Story-wise, it's plain and simple wish-fulfillment for every single incel dude on the internet who dreams of a time when their encyclopaedic knowledge of pop culture is the one thing that can save the world. That was how Ernest Cline's book was described to me, and that's how this film plays out as well. It's absolutely a concept that we do not need, in any case, but specifically, there's also this weird jarring inconsistency with the vague semblance of plot, and the pop culture references, which are honestly crowbarred in in such a way that they're actively, continuously distracting. And when they're distracting, rather than intrinsic to the film, you just realise how much of a rotting pustule the concept is. And there's some straight up trash in the story too. Plot concepts that are laughable, characterisations that are moronic, or cut-out caricatures, dialogue that made me actively cringe, or (occasionally) actually moan out loud in pain. And let's not talk about the whole "utterly conventionally attractive woman says 'oh, no one could ever love me because I'm hideous and deformed' so our protagonist shows her she's beautiful", oh god I guess I just talked about it so excuse me while I go and vomit for a few seconds. In many ways, I'm grateful that this film came around at the Oscars this year. If it weren't for Ready Player One, Avengers: Infinity War would have taken out the bottom spot. And it didn't deserve this. Few films, in fact, deserve the bottom spot in the way Ready Player One does. It's the kind of film that I really hope at some point people stop making—it actively, I believe, makes the world a worse place, by reinforcing and fortifying a particular type of toxic attitude. There are much better uses that you could put a competent director to. Shame on Spielberg. Alright, now that I've had my moment of catharsis. You might have noticed above that I said I'd watched all of the "feature films", not all of the nominees. The reason why I've not seen all of the nominees is two-fold this year. For one, one of the Animated Shorts seems not to be available by any legitimate means this year. And secondly, I honestly just ran out of time to watch all of the Documentary Short Subject nominees, although if today goes well, I'll watch some this afternoon and evening before the Oscars telecast. If so I'll update this list. The Live Action Shorts tend to dominate this year, because they were brutal and unforgiving, and had more emotional power than just about any of the long form films this year. They were honestly exceptional pieces of filmmaking. I'd say you need to watch them, but in truth there's things in there I wouldn't inflict on the unwilling. The exception is my top film, which manages an emotional punch without the side of existential horror. Here's my ordering, anyway.

Marguerite (live action)

Detainment (live action)

Skin (live action)

One Small Step (animated)

Mother (live action)

A Night At The Garden (documentary)

Fauve (live action)

Bao (animated)

Weekends (animated)

Animal Behaviour (animated)

Let's fill in the Oscars Ballot. As always, this is how I would vote given the nominees. There are other nominees I might like to consider, and films that didn't get recognised at all (did no one go and see Disobedience for instance?). But I've limited myself to just the 3-5 candidates in each category: Best Picture: Roma Best Director: Alfonso Cuarón (Roma) Best Actress: Olivia Colman (The Favourite) Best Actor: Willem Dafoe (At Eternity's Gate) Best Supporting Actress: Regina Kind (If Beale Street Could Talk) Best Supporting Actor: Richard E. Grant (Can You Ever Forgive Me?) Best Original Screenplay: First Reformed Best Adapted Screenplay: The Ballad of Buster Scruggs Best Animated Feature: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse Best Foreign Language Film: Roma (with apologies to Never Look Away) Best Documentary Feature: Free Solo Best Documentary Short: A Night at the Garden Best Live Action Short: Marguerite Best Animated Short: One Small Step Best Original Score: Mary Poppins Returns Best Original Song: "Shallow" from A Star Is Born Best Sound Editing: First Man Best Sound Mixing: First Man Best Production Design: Roma Best Cinematography: Roma Best Makeup and Hairstyling: Border Best Costume Design: Black Panther Best Film Editing: The Favourite Best Visual Effects: Solo: A Star Wars Story Until next year, then, folks, when I should really try to break my streak of seeing all the films. Otherwise, this is going to become a chore.