#and ingratiating himself with all the kids about

[ratgrinders]

iirc oisin actually messaged adaine to say sorry, so no one else heard it. was this bc he didn't want the other ratgrinders to hear him say it? did he want it to be more private and sincere than a standoff in the cafeteria? from his actions in the plan (the ping pong balls, stealing adaine's ice mephits at that party, using one hand to plane shift kipperlily, bringing in his dragon relatives to fight) and him making fun of buddy in his dms with ivy it seems like his rage manifested as calculated and mean as opposed to kipperlily's blatant aggression. very similar to ivy except he hid it better. when i started this ask i did headcanon that he was genuine in that apology but the more i think about it im not so sure. if only he didnt get taken out immediately

Re: this post

Oh yeah that's true!! I completely forgot it was a Message, but yeah you're right. Honestly yeah echoing your sentiment about wishing he didn't get taken out immediately. I wish we got to learn more abt ALL the Rat Grinders in the finale, but alas.

My first instinct is to definitely think it was so the other Rat Grinders wouldn't hear, because he'd have to know that Adaine would tell the other Bad Kids he apologized once he was out of earshot. As a calculated ploy though to make himself seem more genuine, we know so little about Oisin's genuine feelings on the Bad Kids that it's hard to say one way or the other. It's such a small, indirect thing he does, and like the SECOND ever interaction he has with Adaine, I don't think it was a part of some long-term grand master scheme to endear himself to her. I'm inclined to believe it was genuine if only because of that, because like I said in my other Oisin post there are way better ways to ingratiate yourself to someone than indirect actions or "sorry"s that give no other information. He's VERY calculated in a way that he's constantly misdirecting and minimizing his influence, shifting blame onto people other than himself, so making himself the center of attention of Adaine just to mislead her may not even be his style.

If I had to say, for now I think that in the cafeteria he was originally going to say something that would have needled Adaine a bit (most of the Rat Grinders had been antagonizing their designated Bad kid that interaction) but when Adaine spoke positively about him he immediately felt guilty about it, and instead pivoted to an apology instead. I think he's genuine in his apology, but was maybe calculated enough about it to know that he couldn't apologize in front of his friends because he knows how they feel about them, and instead made moves to move them all away from the table and end the conflict entirely, as opposed to before when he was just giving weak protests.

#could be completely wrong tho #oisin being calculated in his appearance as a nice guy definitely compels me #but for now i dont think thats applicable in every instance where there isnt a tangible benefit #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #original post #rat grinders #oisin hakinvar

[hailsatanacab]

fic title: "The dead play with the street children and the children protect the dead."

The dead play with the street children and the children protect the dead

Oooh okay, first of all, I love this sentiment so much and I have far too many ideas for it, but we're sticking with one which got way too far out of hand!!! Sorry!

Danny Phantom, Maddie's pov

It's summer and it's roasting. It's the kind of heat that you can taste, and Maddie Fenton is braving the outside so she can surprise everyone with some much needed ice cream.

The arms of her jumpsuit are tied around her waist and her tanktop is already soaked in sweat, but it'll be worth it when she sees her family happy.

Or rather, when she sees Jack happy. She's sure she'll see Jazz happy, too, but Danny... Lately, it seems to be a coin toss whether she'll see him at all.

At least with the heat, ghost attacks have slowed down to almost nothing and she can try and get some proper mother-son bonding time in.

Part of her wonders if there's a reason for it - if high temperatures affect the structure of ectoplasm in such a way as to render a ghost incapable of functioning at their full capacity (ghosts and colder temperatures have always been linked, surely the inverse would make sense) and whether that can be translated into weaponry. A concentrated heat blast to melt a ghost?

But, she thinks with a sigh, that can wait for another day. It's far too hot to be thinking of concentrated heat blasts. Distantly, she can hear the children laughing and shouting in the park, no doubt splashing in the fountains to cool off.

Once upon a time, Danny and Jazz used to laugh and scream together while playing in there as well, but they're too grown up for it now.

Too grown up to do anything with their parents it seems, but that's fine! All teenagers go through it, as she keeps reminding herself, it's just a phase. They'll grow out of it.

In the meantime, there's always ice cream to help smooth over the cracks.

She turns the corner towards where she knows the ice cream truck awaits and she glances towards the fountain with a soft smile at the children's antics already on her face - and freezes, terrified and angry, at the sight there.

What the hell is it doing here? That... that thing? It's not noticed her yet, too busy accosting the children to pay her any attention, throwing balls of snow into the air with a sharp, twisting cackle.

Maddie's blood runs cold as he dives into the fountain, the water around him growing thick with ice - does he mean to trap the children under the surface? How is no one stopping this?

Why are their parents not fighting to get them out, to save them? She looks around at all the smiling faces and she wants to scream, how can they call themselves parents?

When the ghost boy picks up a child and floats them in the air, their ankles kicking up the slushy water, Maddie sees red. She whips out her ankle blaster (why wasn't she wearing her jumpsuit properly, this is what she gets for letting her guard down!) with a wordless cry that's drowned out by the playful screams of the children.

The ecto-blast gets everyone's attention soon enough.

The effect is instantaneous - parents scramble to get their children out of the fountain safely (better late than never), the ghost boy puts down the child, who stumbles forward when Phantom pushes him to move quicker.

Despicable, really, how he's still trying to hurt the poor boy even when she's pointing a gun right at his core. Maddie's proud that her aim doesn't falter even as rage grips her heart.

How dare he try to hurt children? How dare he?

She opens her mouth to give the ecto-scum a piece of her mind but before she can say anything, before she can even squeeze the trigger, a snowball hits her square in the face and her shot goes wide.

Another ghost?

She squints, her cheek burning with cold, and finds... little Sally from down the street, her dress soaked, and cheeks red with anger as she shouts, "Don't you hurt my friend!"

It's simple to cartwheel back and dodge her next throw, but she's not so lucky when another snowball hits her on the back, followed by the little boy from the fountain shouting "Yeah, leave him alone!"

She curses as another one hits her knee, turning wildly with her gun still raised, trying to get a clean sight on Phantom, but of course the spook has already vanished.

The only thing he left behind is a rapidly depleting stack of snowballs and children screaming for a different, fun new game.

#danny phantom #ask game #this just became a fic instead of an outline huh #im so bad at keeping things little #my other idea for this was dpxdc where phantom finds himself having to survive on the streets of gotham #and ingratiating himself with all the kids about #and it's only when red hood (who also tries to look out for the kids) notices and starts asking questions that they become very protective #which is just so unfair on poor jason - he's been doing his best to help them for years and the minute #he asks them for information what does he get? a kick in the shins and a middle finger for his efforts #honestly it just makes him want to know even more haha #anyway i hope you enjoy!!! #i have another three of these left to do please dont send me any more i am drowning haha #jokes i love them theyre so much fun #my writing #cab writes

[sunderwight]

Thinking about a bingqiu Dreamling AU where Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua are both bored deities, just sort of taking a brief sojourn through the mortal world to shoot the shit and see some interesting monster or other that Shen Yuan has heard about, when they come across a tea house and decide to take a break and do some people-watching instead.

Shen Yuan is well into something of a shut-in phase, which Shang Qinghua doesn't like, mostly because when Shen Yuan is in those phases he doesn't do particularly well either. Shen Yuan's a social butterfly, for however little he cares to actually acknowledge it about himself, and his critique of Shang Qinghua's literary masterpieces gets so much harsher when he's not getting enough enrichment.

So when they overhear one of the kitchen boys solemnly insisting that he is going to do everything in his power to never die, and Shen Yuan laments that the boy would probably regret such a wish if it came true, Shang Qinghua decides to bestow a rare bit of godly power onto this mortal and grant his wish.

He doesn't make him a god, of course, that wouldn't even be in his ability. At least, not without using up more time and effort than he's prepared to expend on this one random kid. But immortality on its own is not that difficult. The boy will still finish growing up, and will still be able to be harmed, to know hunger and pain and illness. It just won't ever kill him.

Shen Yuan sighs that it's a cruel thing to do to a mortal, especially one with such low odds of ever cultivating other skills to mitigate the potential torment of it all. But Shang Qinghua just shrugs and they place bets, that this boy will ask for the immortality to be revoked in a hundred years, or two hundred, or so on, or else he won't. Shen Qingqiu approaches the kitchen boy and flusters and bewilders him by telling him to meet him back here again in a hundred years time.

A hundred years later, the tea house is larger. The boy has grown to be a striking young man, who looks at Shen Yuan with wariness and something else, something almost like awe, as he asks what manner of creature he's made this bargain with. Shen Yuan assures him that he has no nefarious intentions, and instead asks Luo Binghe how the past century of his life has gone.

Horribly, at least at first. Binghe's mother had already died by the time they met, but afterwards he managed to earn enough money to travel to a nearby sect. Working in the tea house's kitchen was just a minor stopover along the way. Shen Yuan was wrong, it seems, about his odds of becoming a cultivator -- Luo Binghe earned entry as a disciple.

Yet, he had no success. The master who took him on was unaccountably cruel and mercurial, and Luo Binghe's attempts to cultivate failed. Looking back he sees now that there were many times when he should have died but didn't, but when it was all happening he just thought himself lucky. At least until an enemy sect attacked a cultivation conference, and he suffered mortal wounds that absolutely should have killed him (or anyone) but still didn't die. (No demon race or abyss in this AU, but there are still demonic and fantastical creatures.)

His cruel master, upon witnessing this, accused him of heretical practices and tried to kill him as well by flinging him off the edge of a gorge. The fall was terrible. Binghe lay at the bottom in a horrifying state, injured beyond reason and yet, still, he didn't die. Eventually his body recovered enough for him to drag himself out, and once he did the only thing on his mind was getting revenge. For the next several decades he managed to ingratiate himself to all manner of potential allies, forging alliances, accumulating blackmail, and convincing people that he had to be some powerful cultivator through his supernatural resilience, lack of visible aging, and a lot of bluffing. He got revenge on his old teacher, drove his first sect into ruin, and rose to prominence as a feared and respected leader of the cultivation world.

Shen Yuan listens with clear interest, asking plenty of questions and seemingly quite taken up with the story. At the conclusion, Luo Binghe admits that his actual cultivation is still mostly a matter of smoke and mirrors, and wonders if -- now that the hundred years have passed -- Shen Yuan means to strip his immortality from him.

Shen Yuan asks if Luo Binghe wants that. When Luo Binghe says no, he accepts the answer, and tells him to meet him back here again in another hundred years. Luo Binghe calls after him, but before he can ask anything more, Shen Yuan has disappeared again.

A hundred years later, Binghe arrives back at the tea house with an entourage befitting of an emperor. The tea house has also expanded. Luo Binghe orders a lavish feast from them, which everyone hastens to provide. He's spent the past several decades consolidating his power, forging alliances with key political players via several marriages, producing heirs, and crushing his enemies. As he brags about the state of his massive harem to Shen Yuan, the deity's eyes begin to glaze over. He doesn't seem impressed. He also doesn't seem to care much for the food, and eventually his attention is stolen away by a conversation at another table. The diners are discussing the exploits of a promising new poet and novelist. Try as he might, Luo Binghe fails to regain Shen Yuan's attention before the evening is done. Shen Yuan doesn't think it's a big deal -- after all, if Binghe is still riding on top of the world, he's probably not going to want his immortality gift revoked just yet!

Another hundred years go by. The tea house has returned to a more modest situation, the next time Shen Yuan sets foot in it. He waits an unusually long while for his guest to arrive, and when he does, he's almost stopped at the door by the tea house's servers. It's only when Shen Yuan bids them let him through that Luo Binghe is able to come to the table, almost collapsing against it and desperately falling onto the arrangement of snacks with obvious hunger.

Shen Yuan wonders if this, now, will be when the boy (no longer a boy) asks for the immortality to be revoked. Surprisingly, he finds himself resistant to the idea, even though it's also clear that the game has run too long. Maybe hundred year check-ins were too short? He doesn't like the implications of what's gone on, even if he's not really surprised about it either.

Between desperate mouthfuls of food, Luo Binghe explains that without mastering inedia, going hungry but never dying is a deeply unpleasant experience. Shen Yuan orders more food. Once Binghe has finally eaten his fill, he begins, haltingly, to explain his situation. His clothes are ragged, he is painfully thin, and his gaze is haunted.

Apparently, several of his wives conspired to assassinate him, despite his reputation as unkillable. Realizing that most poisons and such didn't kill him, but that he could still be incapacitated, they hatched a scheme to dose his food with a powerful sleeping agent, and then walled him up in a famous ancestral tomb. They went to great length to ensure that it was impossible to escape from. It took Binghe decades to do it anyway, digging away at the floors, and when he got out he found that his power base had collapsed. In-fighting and the incursion of his enemies had led to the deaths of all of his children, and what wives had survived had either fled or remarried. Not that he particularly wanted them back at that point, since the ones actually most loyal to him had also been killed early on after his own "death". His face marked him, to the eyes of his enemy, as a surviving descendant of himself. He was hunted down, chased across the continent and back again, until he managed to fall into enough obscurity that his pursuers abandoned the chase. Except that he has nothing, and any time he tries to regain something, he runs the risk of being hounded again. Those who might see some potential in him still remember the collapse of his recent "dynasty" and slam doors in his face, or else try and turn him over to those now in power in pursuit of a reward. Those who don't know that much see only a dirty beggar, and usually run him off on that basis instead.

Shen Yuan, almost hesitant, asks if Luo Binghe would like to have his immortality revoked.

Luo Binghe declines. How will he be able to take revenge on those who wronged him if he is dead? He has a hit list a mile long by now.

Which is definitely not the most noble of reasons to persist, but Shen Yuan finds himself reluctant to ask twice. Instead he orders more food, and then even reserves one of the traveler's rooms above the tea house for several days. By then the sky is turning grey, and Luo Binghe is losing his apparent battle with exhaustion. Shen Yuan presses the key into his hand, thinking it's probably not enough, but there are limits to how much gods are supposed to interfere and Shang Qinghua already stretched them to the breaking point with this entire scenario.

He leaves, not seeing the hand that reaches after him just before he is out of the door and gone.

Another hundred years pass. This time, Shen Yuan arrives to find Luo Binghe already waiting for him. He isn't surprised to see that Binghe's situation has visibly improved -- maybe he was keeping closer tabs on him, just a little bit, for this past while. If only to be sure he wouldn't have to warn the tea house workers to expect an unorthodox visitor again! But no, Binghe has been doing well enough for himself. No more harems or thrones, though. He dresses more like a well-off merchant now, deliberately posing as his own mortal descendant rather than as a great immortal cultivator. The food at the table looks far more delicious than usual too (Binghe commandeered the tea house's kitchen himself this time). As they chat, Shen Yuan is regaled with the exploits of Luo Binghe's travels and adventures, how even though he initially set out to claim revenge on those who overthrew him, by the time he was in a position to actually do so they had already died of the usual causes (time, illness, their own schemes backfiring, etc). Subsequently, only their children and grandchildren were left with the scraps of power they had obtained, and when one of those children employed Luo Binghe as a bodyguard, his initial plan to assassinate them eventually fell by the wayside. After all, the wrongdoings weren't actually theirs. From that point, Binghe was able to restore himself to a more comfortable life, joining his new employer on their travels until he had set aside enough earnings to take his leave before his youthful good-looks earned him suspicion. He then began investing in travel and trade, specifically cargo ships, because never spending too long in the same place or around the same people helped disguise his immortality. He had found that, at least for now, this served him better than playing the part of a cultivator. It also gave him time to try and actually repair his ruined cultivation base somewhat, and fighting pirates proved very diverting.

Binghe is midway through recounting his adventures with a gigantic sea monster, while Shen Yuan hangs on every word, when they're interrupted by the arrival of a brash young mistress, clearly wealthy and trained in cultivation. The young lady declares that there is a rumor that a fallen god and a demon meet in this tea house once a century, that they wield strange powers, etc etc, and she intends to interrogate them both with the assistance of her hired muscle and her own spiritual weapon, and discover the truth of the matter. Then she whips out, well, a whip!

Before Shen Yuan can deal with the matter, Luo Binghe is already on his feet, disarming the goons and breaking a few arms in the process. Shen Yuan is so distracted that he almost misses the whip aimed right for him, but before Binghe can catch the barbed weapon with his bare hand (wtf, Binghe, no) Shen Yuan deflects it with a wave of his fan, and then efficiently knocks the troublesome young lady unconscious. The hired muscle flees, Shen Yuan arranges for their assailant to be placed in a room upstairs until she regains consciousness, and he and Binghe resume their meal and conversation in relative peace.

Even though it's clear that Luo Binghe has not yet reached the end of his tolerance for life, Shen Yuan nevertheless finds himself strangely reluctant to part ways at the end of the night. Still, he does, because that's what is expected of him, gently denying Luo Binghe's suggestions that they find some other establishment to continue their conversation at. He also has to investigate these "rumors" that the young lady mentioned. It's probably nothing (Shang Qinghua has a loose tongue when he's drunk, and a lot of imaginative storytellers have frequented this tea house over the years) but he doesn't like being caught unawares like that. Heavenly politics are... complicated, it's best not to court unwanted attention in any capacity.

Another hundred years go by. This time, when they meet at the tea house, Luo Binghe asks Shen Yuan why he keeps it up. Why did he pick Binghe? What is he really after? When Shen Yuan fails to give any kind of clear answer, Luo Binghe shoots his shot and makes a (very obvious) move on him.

Shen Yuan, flustered, gets up and flees. Ignoring Luo Binghe's calls after him. It just doesn't make any sense! Why would Binghe do that?! He's a man who once had a harem of wives in the triple digits! Clearly he's not gay, so what was that all about? Was he just messing with him?! How dare he! Etc, etc.

Another century passes. Luo Binghe waits at the tea house, which has fallen onto hard times again. With the construction of some new roadways, travelers no longer pass through as often. Binghe listens, worried, to the proprietor's laments that this old place will probably not be around in another hundred years. He listens because he has no one else to speak to, because Shen Yuan has not shown up. Not that morning, not during the day, not come evening, and not now that it is closing time. Binghe nevertheless charms and bribes the proprietor to let him stay even after the place has shuttered.

It seems damning, of course. He pressed too hard and now his mysterious benefactor wants nothing more to do with him. Except, no, he refuses to accept that. He's still immortal. And he has gleaned enough of Shen Yuan's character by now that he thinks that even if he was rejected, he would be let down more clearly and gently than this. The more he thinks about it, the less willing Luo Binghe is to believe that he has been deliberately stood up (also, since the tenor of his confession was different from Hob Gadling's, he never delivered an ultimatum about what it might imply when they met up again).

Over the centuries, Luo Binghe has built up a few contacts with similarly strange and supernatural stories. Cultivators, sure, but also others, fortune tellers and people of strange ancestry, questionable abilities, those who have interacted with powerful beings of mysterious provenance. He makes his way to a certain gambling den, frequented often by such people, and while he flashes around enough money to draw curiosity, he collects information. Shen Yuan wasn't the only person who started paying more attention to the kinds of rumors surrounding the two of them after their confrontation with the young cultivator a couple centuries ago. And in fact, Luo Binghe has been spending many, many years trying to find out more about his mystery man. Though, too many potential deities and immortals fit his description for him to have ever conclusively figured much out.

This is how Binghe gets wind of a rumor that an eccentric occultist has somehow captured a god in his basement...

#svsss #bingqiu #scum villain's self saving system #bingyuan #scum villain #long post #whoever the roderick burgess proxy is here he's got a big storm coming #going the classic dreamling fanfic route and having shen yuan get rescued instead of having to escape by himself #shang qinghua has definitely made other people immortal on various whims and impulses #he bestows his gift recklessly on a betrayed young prince at one point and the divine emperor is just like 'enough!' #'if you're doing to do this I'm going to make you babysit the results! you descend and work for that prince now!' so he's got his hands ful #dreamling might be the situation but shen yuan isn't much of a dream of the endless type #and luo binghe is nothing like hob gadling lol #'I want to live because I love life!' nope it's mostly about spite #the hardest part of this AU is imagining a universe where shen yuan would ignore luo binghe for long enough to let actual centuries pass

[azulock]

Okay but how funny would it be if Kaiser and Isagi got a crush on Noel Noas daughter...the CHAOS AHAHAHA

Akehakehsk god that's not even playing with fire anymore it's straight up tnt

But ok ok we gonna have to bend the rules a little here cause we got Noa's canon age and he's just 31, nowhere near old enough to have a kid around Kaiser's or even isagi's age. So we gonna have to age him up and go with coach!Noah and pro player!Kaiser and pro player!Isagi. And reader as Noa's daughter who is just as bad at displaying emotion as her old man

Kaiser and Isagi with a crush on Noa's daughter

⟳ Honestly, the match up from hell for everyone involved. Kaiser and Isagi already can't stand each other, Bastard Munchen getting the short end of the stick here. While I'm pretty sure those two would try to behave okay for their own careers and cause Noa is always watching, this would be just another reason to make them try to one up each other at any cost during games.

⟳ They probably first saw you during training, when you'd gone to visit your father for some reason. Neither realized you were Noa's daughter cause there isn't that much of a physical resemblance. Kaiser would probably try to strike up conversation - and Isagi would use the excuse of freeing you from Kaiser to take his chance. Both got a reality check when Noa showed up and called you "daughter". After that it took just a little bit of watching the two of you for the guys to realize you were a lot like Noa.

⟳ Isagi is a Noa fanboy so the crush would just leave him ecstatic - like, of course he is into Noa's daughter. A tad weird, but, you know. Kaiser on the other hand hates your old man, so the crush leaves him with conflicting feelings. Why did that robot of a guy gotta have a hot daughter? And you were also just as weird, but even that he found endearing. Not the easiest time for Kaiser.

⟳ If you ever show up to visit your father at work after this they are just gonna try to compete with each other during training. I'm pretty sure Noa would take a little while to figure out why they are suddenly giving 110% (and he'd try to stop them cause that's how you sprain something) but after the third time he'd get it. And oh boy if they piss him off enough with that they are getting an earful. Noa would probably ask you to show up less if it comes to that.

⟳ If you like going to the matches then all bets are off, they really will try to compete and be the one to take home the winning goal. You are hard to crack so they just go for the most basic thing they can think of: impressing you. Which, also hard, with you inheriting Noa's perfect poker face they can't tell if you are ever impressed by anything. Tho, on that front Kaiser probably has a leg up in learning how to read you, given how Germans are just like that too.

⟳ They'll try to find any chance they'd get to talk to you, any chance, which is not many. It'd probably happen mostly on team events or if you'd stuck around to talk to your father after a match. Isagi would probably try to be more low-key with displaying his interest, but Kaiser is Kaiser, he doesn't do lowkey. They'd probably be slightly scared of making any move at first but they relax a bit when Noa seems not to care. He does care, but your father is sure you can take care of yourself.

⟳ Probably silently competing to see who can get an emotion out of you, cause the only time they saw you crack a smile was to Noa. When Noa smiled back the whole team froze for a second. This is all an unspoken thing, all of their competitions are, they probably never even acknowledged their interest to each other. They just know, cause obviously they do, and it just became a fight.

⟳ Isagi is silently stalking your socials, Kaiser is smoothly sliding into your dms. Isagi tries to know as much about you as possible for the few chances he gets to talk to you, while Kaiser is much better at just winging it. Isagi might try to ingratiate himself with Noa more in attempts to get closer to you, Kaiser just doesn't, hell just try to find ways to bypass Noa, you are an adult so you shouldn't be too hung up on what your father thinks.

⟳ God have mercy on Noa if you ever decide to give any attention to those two, the whole thing will probably only get worse. And if you ever do pick one of them to go out with? Then may the devil have mercy on him cause his job will become straight up hell. And oh boy don't let the paparazzi see you in a date with one of them, there is no mercy coming from the gossip websites.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #michael kaiser x reader #I don't generally write readers who are related to characters cause *gestures to all light skinned characters and my ambiguously brown ass* #But this was cool this was fun

[dotster001]

Hiii!!! first, before I start I'm very socially awkward and my English sucks so this might be a bit cringe to read... but I just have to say, I LOVE your writing!!! you have such a cool writing style and your way of writing characters is always in character you're just AWESOME!!!! if it's not too much to ask, can I request a fight between all the dorm and vice-dorm heads (just dorm heads is cool too) when they overhear that the reader/MC has a crush (i simp for all of them)? again, love your writing so much!

Battle Royale

A/N: you have no idea how surprised I was that this wasn't the one voted for the last day. 😂 it's fine though, and I hope you enjoy!

3k follower Masterlist

Trein had held you after class today, and you were a little scared, to say the least. You didn't think you or Grim had done anything wrong today, but you could never be too sure.

Once the last student had left, he looked up at you.

"You've been acting odd lately. I've raised two children, and taught thousands of students, so I know why."

You didn't think you'd been acting odd. But you weren't the most self aware out there, if the numerous overblots you'd nearly missed were anything to go by.

"Oh?" You asked.

He sighed heavily, and gently took your hand. 

"You've ingratiated yourself into my heart, like one of my own kids. So I'm going to tell you this; none of the boys at this school is worth the trouble."

"Huh?"

"I don't know which one you have a crush on, but there are less than a handful that deserve the attention."

Your cheeks began to warm, and you gasped. You hadn't thought too deeply about it, but there was definitely someone you'd had your eye on, maybe a bit too much, recently. If Trein had noticed…had he noticed as well?

"I'll uh, I'll keep that in mind."

"Please do," he gave you a firm stare, then turned back to his papers.

You were so out of it, that you didn't notice your two friends who had stayed behind for emotional support.

….

"It's definitely me."

"In what world would it ever be you!"

Trey entered the kitchen to check on the bread in the oven, and sighed to himself as he watched the freshmen fight with each other.

"What are you up to?" He asked.

"Nothin-" Deuce muttered, but was cut off by Ace.

"If Y/N had a crush on someone, it'd be me, right?"

Trey stared at the two, then slowly turned to the oven.

"Where is this coming from?" He asked.

"Trein kept Y/N behind today, and told them whoever they have a crush on isn't worth it."

"Hm. And you both think it's you, because?"

Both of them froze. They could hear the challenge in Trey's voice, and neither of them knew how to approach it.

"Well, why wouldn't it be?" Ace snapped. "We hang out with them more than anyone. If it's anybody, it's me or Deucey." 

Trey smiled at the temporary unification of his freshmen, and calmly asked, "Wouldn't it make sense if they went for someone with more life experience? Someone more mature?"

The freshmen were silent again, before Deuce asked, tentatively, "Has…has Y/N said something to you?"

Trey hummed, putting together Riddle's dinner tray.

"No. At least, not verbally."

And then he left the kitchen. He couldn't wipe the soft smile from his face. Riddle noticed it as Trey poured his tea. 

"Did something good happen?"

"Hm? Oh, the freshmen found out Y/N had a crush on someone, and assumed it was one of them. I told them it would probably be someone more mature."

Riddle hummed thoughtfully. "True," he sipped his tea, "Y/N would go for someone more mature, who is someone who was also not that much older than them."

"Oh, you think so?" A challenge.

"Yes." A retort.

….

From there, Riddle took his information to the housewardens meeting, who took it to their vicehousewardens, who in turn spread it to the rest of the school.

In less than a couple hours, Malleus and Leona were literally at each other's throats, as the rest of the school egged them on.

"Y/N has more class than to fall for a mangy housecat!" A bolt of green lightning nearly hit Leona, who dodged at the last second.

"They certainly would never fall for a scaly lizard!" The air around Malleus filled with sand.

"Shouldn't we put a stop to this?" Silver asked Lilia, who was busy restraining Sebek.

"Kids will be kids," Lilia laughed in response.

Ruggie tapped Azul on the shoulder, holding out his open hand. "Five thaumarks to join the pot. Who do you think will win?"

Azul smirked, "Neither, because Y/N is surely in love with me. They've all but said so."

"Sure, sure," Ruggie rolled his eyes. "Because out of everyone they could choose, it would be the person who takes 20% of their tips, and not the person who shares home cooked meals with them."

"I couldn't help but overhear your discussion, boys, but don't fool yourselves. The only person Y/N could possibly fall for would be the embodiment of the fairest Queen," Vil hummed as he passed them, fully intent on stopping the fight which was already well out of hand.

But he was halted by a hand on his wrist. 

"Schoenheit, don't be a silly boy and embarrass yourself," Lilia hummed, his eyes turning more crimson than fuschia. "Besides," he laughed lightly, going back to playful, "rumor has it, Y/N is in love with someone with life experience, something I have more of than anyone else here."

"Sure," Vil muttered at his peer. He was quickly pulled into the fight when he reached them, purple magic joining the sand and emerald lightning.

Rook was watching the fight with wide eyed enthusiasm. His emerald eyes were taking in everything they did, studying their moves for use at…well…a later date. 

Idia's tablet, meanwhile, was focused solely on Rook, the terror practically radiating from it. It was muted, but if it wasn't, people would have heard Ortho hyping him up. But Idia did not want to fight the hunter. Not with the way his eyes were glittering with blood lust.

Jade was about to prevent Floyd from elbow slamming his way into the fight, when all the boys were forcibly separated by an unknown force. All eyes traveled to Trein, who was staring at them all in disgust.

"Animals. The lot of you," he snarled, staring everyone down. "Anyone involved in any way will be punished accordingly."

….

"Why did Professor Trein keep you behind today?" Asked Jack, who was blissfully unaware of the war going on. He had offered to help you study after class, and had been curious as to why he'd beat you to Ramshackle.

"Oh," you hesitated. "Well, he noticed I'd been behaving odd lately, and told me to be careful."

"Y/N's in love, and teach said no one was good enough!"

"Grim!" You cried, burying your face in your hands.

"Oh," Jack said, trying to be as cool as possible. "Who is it?"

You peaked through your fingers, opening and shutting your mouth a few times.

"If you don't tell him, I will," Grim snickered.

"Don't," you whined. You took a steadying breath, and began, "Okay. It's…"

#3k followers #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader

[ohbo-ohno]

can we have some price x single mom reader thoughts? 🫶🏻

hmmmm not many!

i almost always write price with a single mom reader because something about that man screams Dad. i also just love love love the image of him spotting this mom and her kid and going "oh, alright. mine now"

i think price x single mom!reader slowly ingratiates himself to her. you meet him briefly and then start seeing him everywhere (but somehow you never feel stifled). he's always offering to fix something, carry something, watch/hold your baby, play with your kid if they're older. he's always there to help

i think price is a sucker for a damsel in distress, and i love price x single mom stuff where he spots her struggling, and all of his protector instincts just ring at once, and before he knows it he's obsessed with her and her tiny little family.

but i also love price x badass super mom reader, where he maybe just wants to be a place for her to relax sometimes. he knows she doesn't need his help, he knows she can do it all on her own, but he wants to help. wants to be a safe place for her to give up control for a bit, and he's willing to work to build the trust for that to happen

price x single mom!reader sees your kid as his, to the point where he might even forget at times that they're technically not. especially if she's got a younger kids, that kid is his. doesn't matter if they don't share blood, and he'll tear someone a new one for suggesting anything otherwise

#asks and answers #john price x reader #bo writes

[scoobydoodean]

I was wondering if you, as a Dean fan have opinions about the different writers? Mostly because I see a lot of Dean fans really strongly dislike Dabb for some reason and I don’t really understand why. I’ve never seen a concrete explanation beyond “he can’t write Dean/doesn’t understand Dean/actively hates Dean” but with no examples as to what he does that’s so bad. And I see this in every shipping lane. I don’t have a strong opinion about him as a writer one way or the other.

I'm exploring this more as I rewatch the show (currently on season 6) so I'll speak mainly from that perspective on my most recent thoughts. I am not a big fan of Dabb or Loflin, but have tried to be fair about things so far when talking through each episode. I am a fan of "Alpha and Omega"—it's my favorite finale (it's also... a finale for a season Carver started as showrunner? So I don't know what the implications are there as far as storyboarding). Also points for having demon Dean stab a guy through in 10.02.

I'll focus on the negatives you asked about in this post, but in the links you'll find me moving the narrative this way and that toward much more charitable readings... I think. (I do have a tag #dabb disk horse which you can either peruse or blacklist at your leisure). What I can tell you is something almost always strikes me as a off about Dabb/Loflin episodes so far in this rewatch in terms of character work.

Dabb/Loflin's first ever episode was 4.06 "Yellow Fever". In the aftermath, Kripke felt the need to release a definitive interpretation of their episode to the public, stating, "Dean is not a dick... he's a hero." The whole episode toyed with, to an extent, the idea that all the victims of the MotW were bullies. You can take this other directions—for example, queer meta, or meta about Sam as the real bully. However, the story a lot of fandom latched onto was that "Dean is a jerk and deserves to be humiliated and punished for that" which obviously didn't make Dean fans watching live in season 4 happy—and this theme of Jerk!Dean continues into their next episode, "After School Special", where they once again parallel Dean with a bully literally nicknamed "Dirk the Jerk" by Sam, and throw what I think is transparent shade at Kripke's issued statement from before the Christmas break (post here)... or maybe they mean to throw shade at the Dean fans who got angry. In this episode, they also make illusions to Dean wanting to have sex with barely legal high school cheerleaders, which also did not ingratiate them to Deanfans at the time. I said on my last rewatch, "In After School Special, Dean seems more unlike himself than any episode ever in the history of Supernatural up to this point" (post explaining that here). I carry similar sentiments about portions of 5.06 "I Believe The Children Are Our Future". Yes—I am aware of performing Dean meta. I just... feel like they try a little too hard. It feels hamfisted—desperate. To the point it doesn't feel like Dean anymore sometimes. In 5.06, they also have Dean (guy who is generally very protective of kids) suggest to Jesse that he'd be good to have in a fight???? I can see how they got there, but again—it just feels... off. The last episode I rewatched that they authored, 6.04 "Weekend At Bobby's", also leaves a bad taste in my mouth—not in what it's trying to do with Bobby or what it's trying to do on a meta level—but once again, with dialogue from Dean that just makes me think "he would not fucking say that" (post here). I think looking at all of these, you can probably see deangirl ire toward Dabb has a long history. It's been around as long as he's been around, whether he deserves as much ire as he gets or not.

I haven't circled back yet on this rewatch, but Dabb and Loflin also penned season 7's "The Girl Next Door"... do I need to say anything specific? Maybe I'll just link my entire #amy tag. What narrative did they want you to get from that episode? Who the fuck knows. And that's often the problem:

When you watch various episodes I've mentioned, you can work around to a meta that tells you something different than you might at first think the page conveys—something hidden and maybe contradictory. The thing is... you could also... not do that? And that wouldn't be so bad, except that sometimes the two narratives you can most easily grasp completely contradict each other. "After School Special" can be an episode that points to Sam's envy of Dean and John deep down and foreshadows Sam becoming a bully, but on a meta level, it also just as easily says Sam becoming a bully is somehow Dean's fault, and Sam is some poor captive baby. Dean is a creep and a bully and a cheater but we should all coddle him because he saw his mom die when he was a child and he's sooo sad. "Yellow Fever" can be a queer meta story and might also foreshadow approaching Bully!Sam in 4.14, but it also very much does call Dean a jerk (should we take that seriously? should we not?) and implies Dean should be punished for the outcome of three decades of reality-bending torture. Even if it's a queer meta underneath... it's just as easily one about how closeted men should be humiliated for cowardice or how being closeted turns you into an asshole.

Jumping way ahead, I have to mention 15.10 "The Hero's Journey" just because. Yes, it is full of jokes and Garth goodness, but also tries to sell you the story that nothing about Sam and Dean is real, to a degree that feels like you are being flipped the bird for ever watching this show. And again—you can make meta that it's all a ruse! But is it? Or is Dabb actually just telling you to go fuck yourself? Like he totally wasn't when, after the SPN finale when fans were Not Happy™️, he tweeted a sign reading, "Don't feed the baboons"? Yet again—we play into the motif of the "hero" who isn't a hero at all but some pathetic loser who deserves to be publicly humiliated, bookended with Dabb's opening episode in his opening season. I'm not saying that's what it is on purpose—but I am saying you can make these arguments easily, and that leaves me consistently annoyed with Dabb for being fucking sloppy and leaving me to deal with some of the most insufferable meta imaginable that carries little support outside of episodes written by Dabb or the Dabb/Loflin writing team.... Yes—I am in fact saying that Dabb and Loflin's hamfisted episodes (regardless of their intentions) are largely responsible for some of the most insufferable, loathesome fandom metas about Sam and Dean's relationship around.

Look at 5.16 "Dark Side Of The Moon", and 7.08 "Time for A Wedding!" and 8.14 "Trial and Error", 11.17 "Red Meat", and 15.20 "Carry On". Along with 4.13, while they might or might not say something deeper or contradictory on a meta level, on a surface level, every single one of these episodes sows the narrative that Dean is needy and clingy and needs Sam more than Sam needs him—something I intensely disagree with for a multitude of reasons... but I'll just link this. Many of these episodes also follow a surface level narrative of "normal life obsessed Sam" (and here I'll link my entire #sam the hunter tag and #in which sam is not a helpless little waif with his hands cast over his eyes being carried along by the tides of the immutable sea). When I look at this episode list, I also don't find it at all difficult to believe that Dabb wanted Dean to die in the finale. There is nothing at all shocking about that. And yes—you can argue he's pointing to the opposite—that this fate should be subverted and that's what makes 15.20 the dark ending, but I think you can just as easily argue that yes it's a dark ending and yes Dabb has always dreamed of this ending. A "tragic" ending where Dean dies and Sam goes on to have a white picket fence... while also leaving you little hints along the way that maybe it's all a big ruse because how could he not? He never has to explain anything. Someone else will pick up the story and make it make sense. He's already fucked off to piss all over fans of Resident Evil.

That said, when I mention what I feel is off character work, I mainly mention Dabb/Loflin episodes from my recent rewatch, which suffer from the two of them being newer to the series (coming onto the writing team in season 4) and also leave questions about whether, perhaps, they had conflicting ideas about characterization. Was Dabb the one penning these lines? Was it Loflin? Was it both? Did they trade out who took the lead? I didn't really say anything negative about "Sam, Interrupted" or "Jump the Shark"... (though "Sam, Interrupted" also calls Dean "codependent") who wrote those? Is it possible that the messiness of the meta comes down to two writers at war? I have to imagine though, that they got along, or else they wouldn't have written together for four fucking years. If they didn't get along...? My mind always comes back to their first solo episodes, right after splitting up in season 8. Dabb's first solo episode is "Hunteri Heroici"—the only episode to lend any perspective to season 8 Sam's reasons for abandoning everyone—paralleling him checking out with Fred's catatonia, which Sam has to save Fred from. It is the only episode that lends Sam sympathy in the early part of the season. He follows it up with "Trial and Error"—where Sam promises to save Dean from suicidal thoughts. Loflin's first solo episode is what I would regard as the most scathing solo episode commentary on Sam in the entire series—"Citizen Fang". Then he writes again right after Dabb's "Trial and Error"—penning "Remember The Titans" where Sam tells Dean to get over the promise Sam so passionately made in Dabb's episode and face reality.

This is why we're exploring this rewatch.

DISCLAIMER: Now I just devolve into bitching because I'm writing at 3AM. Proceed at your own risk.

It seems like these days, everyone demands an explanation for disliking Dabb (something about some sort of destiel battle... I don't know what that flamewar is and I don't give a damn tbqh.) I guess I've just been wondering what's actually so great about him. Because it feels like people have overcorrected to basically acting like he's god's greatest gift to mankind. People point to how meta his episodes can be, but I think other writers easily best him on that front on multiple occasions (particularly enjoyed by me so far on this rewatch: 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream Of Me", 4.04 "Monster Movie", 4.12 "Criss Angel Is A Douchebag"), and without leaving their meaning so up in the air that you don't even know what the hell they were actually trying to tell you because there are two different completely incongruous narratives you could just as justifiably claim were the intended one. Some people may find that duality praise-worthy. I don't. I find it sloppy—and when I add in mediocre character work, I just land on the side of him being, at the very best, mid.

Add him in as showrunner, you have... at least two of my least favorite seasons (13 and 15). Add that he's a one-trick pony in terms of the Sam and Dean conflicts mentioned above that he continuously rehashes rather than come up with anything new or fresh, and the same conflicts between Dean and Cas being played out until they both die (shut UP I'm not talking about canon destiel as the alternative—I am literally just asking for more diverse conflicts). I can't say I understand what I''m supposed to find so impressive.

(Before anyone so much as breathes this near me, Berens also sucks and I am going to tear off your nose hairs if you start bringing him up as if disliking Dabb for some reason means wearing rose colored glasses about Berens. Berens can eat a whole cactus raw over "The Trap" alone.)

#writer disk horse #dabb disk horse #mail

[transboysokka]

tell me about autistic Zuko (modern au or canon. Like how he grew up, why it’s justified in canon, how people around him react to it/are they assholes or not) bc I’ve been thinking about him but I can’t seem to articulate all my feelings into words and you’re good at that <3

hahahaha gladly here is a smattering of Facts and Evidence, in no particular order

Fact #1: His special interest is the Avatar. That boy’s done so much research!! (I’m joking with this one and yet… 👀)

Evidence #1: His father was embarrassed of him when he was a kid. This could have been for a variety of reasons including that he’s gay but also if you are trying to raise an heir of a powerful nation, you would see a lot of autism symptoms as a weakness, especially things like awkwardness, difficulty making eye contact, etc

Evidence #2: He doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends growing up which can also be explained in different ways but a kid just following around his sister and her friends all day? sus

Evidence #3: The way he rehearses what he’s going to say to Aang at the Western Air Temple… and the awkwardness of it makes it So Much More… it’s the most really, THE autistic of scenarios. We GOTTA practice big conversations like that before they happen, we just do…

Evidence #4: He borrows from other scripts for social interaction. You know when he’s trying fo get along with everyone at the air temple and he makes tea for them and try to tell a joke? Why does he do that? Because he’s mimicking Iroh, who is probably the most outgoing person in his life, and following exactly what Iroh does to be friendly and ingratiate himself with others…

Evidence #5: Missing social cues. I can’t think of any examples off the top of my head but I think we’ve all seen it. Also “That’s rough, buddy” is something he TOTALLY stole from someone else because he had no idea what he actually was supposed to say in that situation

Fact #2: now HERE’s a guy who feels deeply but is SO bad at expressing or controlling his feelings. Remember when he was worried about the comet and instead of talking about it just ATTACKED HIS FRIENDS?? oof yeah

Important Headcanon #1: Zuko is really sensitive to texture and has ARFID, which does have a high overlap with autistic folks. This “pickiness” causes real problems for him, especially when he’s v busy being the Fire Lord…. He tends to eat the same foods a lot to sustain himself (fire flakes) and makes the same exact tea for himself every single day. He DOES like to bake and cook though, and is quite good at it, even if he won’t eat it all

Headcanon #2: Our boy’s special interests are history, dao swords, and baking

Headcanon #3: Not a fan of eye contact

Theory #1: Our boy Sokka def has that ADHD and I just don’t think it’s that common or easy for ND folks to be in a relationship with NT folks (I have no proof of this but just think about it for a sec) so therefore Zuko must be neurodivergent

This is a big ol’ mess but for a MUCH more comprehensive and comprehensible Auristic Zuko explanation, please refer to this masterpiece of a post which I just found after spending a bunch of time answering this ask lolol

#thank u tho anon this was fun to think through #quesTian #atla #autistic Zuko

[oldshowbiz]

To the public Red Skelton was the God and country comedian. He recorded a best-selling version of the Pledge of Allegiance and told reporters that he read the bible every night before going to bed. His friends and colleagues say it was just an act to ingratiate himself to the public.

Television producer George Schlatter worked on The Judy Garland Show at CBS Television City, just one soundstage over from The Red Skelton Show. Schlatter says, “Red Skelton was a phony with all his God bullshit. He ended every show saying, ‘God Bless.’ Then you realize that his dress rehearsal was the filthiest event in town. They did the dirtiest dress rehearsal and then he would go on and do this, ‘God Bless,’ and the country and the flag and all this shit. He was a dirty old man.”

According to the FBI, Skelton possessed one of the largest collections of pornography in Hollywood. A Bureau memo from the 1940s said that “during the course of an investigation of a purported ring of obscene motion picture operators in Hollywood, information was received that the best known customers for obscene film in Hollywood were Red Skelton, Lou Costello, and George Raft.”

The contradiction between his public front and his personal life was the stuff of tabloid legend.

“Red’s constant drinking when he had his CBS radio show was the whisper of the microphone colony,” reported the trashy magazine Confidential. “Often his hands would be shaking so badly he could hardly get into his clothes to begin the show.” The tabloid claimed Skelton regularly “terrifies wife and kids with loaded pistols.”

Skelton was often criticized for laughing at his own jokes or breaking up in the middle of a scene. It was an ancient stage trick. Skelton knew that if you lost it on camera, it often made the audience laugh harder. It was a gimmick despised by fellow comedians who saw right through it.

“Dreadful,” said Stan Laurel of Laurel and Hardy fame. “Just dreadful. I love his talent but I hate … when he does that deliberate and undeliberate breaking up. In my opinion this is the worst possible thing any comedian can do – the worst. And he even lets some of his untalented guests do it. Dreadful.”

Many viewers felt the same. Patty Valentine of Cincinnati wrote, “There is only one person laughing at him and that is himself. He thinks he is funny but no one else does.”

By 1964 the program hadn’t changed much since its first episode back in 1950. The show got strong ratings, but the demographics were far too old for the sponsor’s liking. In an attempt to court the youth market, Van Bernard Productions, Skelton’s production company, negotiated an exclusive deal with Sir Lew Grade in the UK to provide British Invasion rock groups for the show. Changing its name to The Red Skelton Hour, the program presented The Kinks singing “Got Love If You Want It,” Manfred Mann doing “Do Wah Diddy Diddy,” The Hollies performing “Look Through Any Window,” and The Animals playing “We Gotta Get Out of This Place.”

Skelton introduced many British Invasion groups to Middle America for the very first time. But he promised his elderly demographic that he didn’t fully approve, always cracking jokes about their hair and fashion sense.

#red skelton

[whatbigotspost]

On being real mean and then less mean

Long post incoming........I've been chipping away at writing this for like a month now and (unlike my usual self) I've stalled out a few times unsure of what all I want to say. But I think I've got it squared up the way I would like to. Unfortunately, I need a long context laying preamble. Sorry this will feel like an online recipe experience 😅

As the 5 of you who usually read my blocks of text will know well, I grew up in a very toxic, abusive, high-control environment. If you wanted to intentionally produce kids who would have anxiety, shame, self-loathing, aggression, be overly-competitive, angry, and equipped with little-to-no social skills, you should be parented like I was. In my nuclear family, we couldn't have had worse life lessons or role modeling when it comes to building healthy relationships, strong friendships, and harmonious existence with others. Violence was often normalized. Manipulation was encouraged. Specific conditions and rules were put on receiving love and/or affection. We weren't seen as independent humans who had their own lives and thoughts and ambitions--we were seen as extensions of my father, brought into the world to be his unquestioning cheerleaders and adoring team, to do our best to become his clones, to live out his unrealized dreams, and to combat his grievances w/ the world.

In short, it sucked.

Above all, I was taught in a very deep and real way to hate myself, not that this was explicitly acknowledged mind you, but it was the implication of everything. This self loathing was an extension of my father's own insecurities and full inability to grow the fuck up and build a life for himself that was emotionally mature, resilience, and self-caring. This mentality, if truly internalized, creates ugliness from the inside that radiates outward. I can see that so clearly now, but back then, I didn't understand it at all.

I was implicitly taught a thought process like, "the best way to 'own' someone is to shit talk them into crying" or "you can make yourself look stronger and distract from your own shortcomings by staying 1 step ahead of everyone through making THEM feel like shit about their shortcomings."

But you weren't just mean to someone to stay ahead of them, you were also mean as a way to ingratiate others to you. "Telling it like it is" even if what you said was unnecessarily cruel, was a virtue. Like, "what? I'm just saying what we're all thinking!" kind of stuff. I was taught that "teasing" is a way you show someone you love them, where "teasing" means saying all kinds of awful things that are quite hurtful. I was taught that being funny was one of the most important qualities and it didn't matter if those laughs came at the expense of others' feelings and if, over time, your comments began to destroy those around you.

It's "just teasing." It's "just joking." It was a lot of "oh come, on grow a thicker skin" over "maybe saying cruel shit for fun is bad?" It was "God, I can dish it and I can take it, why can't you?" over "maybe I want friends who support one another instead of digging at our insecurities."

Some recent nostalgia I've been wallowing in this summer reminded me of my grossest self who lived by these rules.

Those worst moments, where I was a bully and an asshole, all occurred for me at school, when I was probably around 11/12 and older. School was a very interesting place for me. When I try to paint an efficient picture of what my childhood home was like for others, I often say, my family existed in a weird liminal someplace between mainstream, mid western white suburban society and a survivalist/separatist/cult/fringe culture (like Tara Westover describes in Educated or as seen in Captain Fantastic if you're familiar w/ either of those.) We were a cult of 4 and there were many things We Did Not Do, all my dad's rules. (My grandparent's house was a safe harbor unlike my home, but that's a tangent for another time.) That said, accessing education was something my father DID trust the local government to do (as long as he could emphasize over and over how we can't trust everything they say, we could trust their lessons of math, music, English, etc.) He strategically chose a place to live where I could get the best "free" education possible in Central Indiana. My social life existed fully in a traditional school setting, where it took me all of 2 seconds to clock that other kids' lives weren't like mine, and that was compelling to me. I became a lifelong student of interpersonal relationship dynamics far before I realized I had become a lifelong student of relationships. I remember when I was in elementary school journaling about and thinking about and talking about all the friend groups and dynamics, etc. Writing stories about friend groups. Creating Barbie universes and dramas with 2 neighborhood friends. Trying to spend more and more time w/ peers instead of family.

Beyond that, I loved school because I would receive praise and love at home for A's and praise and love from my teachers for being "so good" (aka offering 100% deference to adult authority as I been told to do, even if I could question them inside.) This all means when I was very young, I did SO WELL at figuring out school...how to make friends...how to get an A+...how to get teachers to love me...how to be The Good Kid...how to reduce my value to my grades and what I produced, which is a mentality I've still only begun to unweave from within me, some 30 years later.

Anyway, point is, despite the hand I was dealt, I somehow never had trouble making friends and with a lot of my closest friends, I wasn't all that mean to in the way I describe above, at least initially. But when I did apply that behavior, god damn was it ugly. I get that now, but back then, I felt cool as fuck.

The more it (temporarily worked for me) the more I used meanness. By the time I was like 17, I literally was known as mean and wore it as a badge of honor. Lacking emotional intelligence and an overtly loving home environment, I thought it was normal? cool? idk...to "not be able to handle mushy emotional stuff." I would (LITERALLY) run if friends were telling me they loved me. It became more and more common for me to apply, "witty mean girl" quips to even my closest friends. Stuff was said about me like, "oh, if she makes fun of you, it means she really loves you." I was always saying shit to gain laughs from others that really hurt some people and I would act like that was a THEM thing like "god, they're so sensitive, poor widdle baby."

NOT GOOD. Nothing to be proud of. Signs of someone who deep down hates themselves and hopes you don't notice because of a big, bad exterior. In this era, I was someone who attracted and accepted other toxic people and was abusive toward and accepted abuse from friends who had these same issues. How I met and fell in love w/ my partner who is not at all like this during that period of time back when sometimes confounds me. His boundaries and feelings are why I started really looking inward. His patience and willingness to understand what was going on for me was immense (as I was similarly patient for things related to his baggage.) FOR YEARS we had a dynamic where I'd "make fun of" "tease" "just joke" about him too harshly in front of others and he would ask me over and over to stop. I'd get better for a while, then I'd backslide and make him feel like shit in a group setting again--but hey! everyone laughed at my ~*~*just oh so hilarious comment*~*~ and so that makes it fine right?? Obviously, not, and the older I got the more I started to FINALLY see "mean" as mean and not "telling it like it is" or being a core part of my humor.

How I REALLY know that this toxic coping mechanism I used to my benefit was a thinly veiled defense mechanism style behavior to cloud my deep deep deep self loathing is because when I'd be talking w/ my partner about his very reasonable and normal request that I not say unnecessarily cruel things about him for fun in front of others, I would be afraid of things like, "But that's part of who I am? It's my humor."

I really thought so lowly of myself that I believed that if I wasn't witty-mean, people wouldn't love me. That I wouldn't still be funny. That I wouldn't be ME unless I was being MEAN. It was so backwards and upside down because my meanness did make me harder to be around, and people were right there loving me anyway, not because of it, but despite it.

It's so sad to realize this! Looking back and describing this girl now feels in both parts foreign to me and also like looking in a mirror. I've been in 20 years of some form or another of "recovery" from this kind of childhood now, and I'm about 15 years into true healing and re-parenting myself. Almost 14 years ago, I made the biggest shift toward killing this old mentality...I moved away from my home town and the people I spent my days around to that point. I had an opportunity for a hard reset in my social life and behaviors, leaving behind old reputations that didn't serve me. And I’m still me. I’m spicy and I’m real and I’m blunt and I’m funny but I’m not cruel or mean anymore. The old me sometimes still rears her ugly head, especially when I'm tired, stress, or dysregulated. But it's less "how I am" now than ever in my life.

As I've been thinking about this whole topic for quite a few weeks now, and I tried to articulate what I did that really changed me and allowed me to shed that mean girl shell of armor I was wearing that I had so thoroughly needed to outgrow. If these things resonate with you, I do have some pieces of advice.

Speak from your personal values 100% of the time. That means defining your personal values first, not just accepting what you think is valuable you've been told by others. Once I grew the maturity to understand I needed my own life values, it was very simple to grasp that I was not in line with them. My top 5 personal life values are: love, equity, humor, loyalty, and open communication. Mean jokes don't check many of those boxes.

Become your own best friend first. My behaviors were driven by self-hatred I did not choose. When I choose how I want to feel about myself, I choose self-compassion, and I actively cultivate this mentality and practice all. the. time so that I don't backslide.

Stop "telling it like it is." This is not helpful. No one needs something obvious and cruel pointed out. This is basic "THINK" acronym stuff. It's a classic because it works. Is what you're about to say.... "true, helpful, inspiring, necessary, kind." Telling it like it is is only TRUE, it's rarely -HINK.

Never "just joke" about something someone could possibly be vulnerable about. If someone has a physical wound, you don't jab your finger into it for fun. When someone has an emotional tenderness, you similarly don't jab a mean comment into it. When in doubt, just don't joke about it.

Have actual hard conversations and "call outs" in the right times/spaces. Sometimes behavior that one friend may call "mean" is actually a very necessary hard conversation to the other person. So it's helpful to just remember that those kind of real-deal communications are rarely done effectively or productively with an audience or by using humor. Real shit deserves a real shit tone.

Push yourself to say the nicest stuff and just be fucking sincere and genuine. Tell your friends you love them. Tell your friends when you are obsessed with what they are achieving/doing/saying. Tell your friends WHAT you love about them. Make an effort for your most important relationships to have far, far more "positive bids" than negative.

Use "teasing" or "self deprecating" humor selectively and strategically. Sometimes, my partner and I DO tease each other by having open communication and actually knowing one another's boundaries, I now understand what's fine and what's not. So I can proceed w/o hurting him. But I don't know most people to that level, so I'm not going to try to tease someone else in front of others w/o that knowledge anymore. Self deprecating humor has also been a go-to for me in the past and one of the people I could be meanest to was myself. I realized I should use it sparingly with people who I don't know well, too, because I don't necessarily need to give them a cheat sheet to what my baggage is. And lastly, in general, I think that we should ALL be very very careful to spare strangers our sarcasm, deadpan comments, or whatever. Many folks are neurodiverse or otherwise don't get your sarcasm and your implications can be lost in translation. You never know what topics, with strangers, might be a hornet's nest you stumble into.

PFEW! Ok, I think that's plenty for now! If you've got similar tips or thoughts, LMK! Of course, I still fuck up my practice of not being mean all the time, but the best thing about having done this work and shared it with those around me is that my friends are much more like to say something like, "OW! Was that your dad talking for a sec?" and help me than to just go on assuming I'm an asshole. 😆

#healthy relationships #abuse #interpersonal relationships #toxic relationships #child abuse #self compassion #healing #reparenting #resources #advice

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Ganondorf sighed as he walked the halls of the castle. The structure of this place alone nearly rivaled the fortress that housed the majority of his people. To think such prosperity could be his shortly…

That was a goal soon to be realized. This king was far easier to ingratiate himself to than the one from his own timeline. This one simply needed his ego stroked - King Ozen was the second son in a line of uncertainty, a male heir with no magic and the younger brother to another male heir who barely had any blessing from his divine bloodline. Ozen had spent his entire rule trying to prove his legitimacy, and it seemed the only way he’d succeeded was in having a daughter who was occasionally seen but never heard. Hyrule knew Princess Zelda had the gifts of Hylia and that had been enough for the common folk, though Ozen desperately continued his quest to gain respect. All Ganondorf had to do was lean into this insecurity and he would become a trusted advisor in no time.

Then he could learn the location of the Triforce.

His plans were falling into place, and in a far better way than he could have ever imagined. When he had started this venture years ago in his own time, he’d been alone. Yes, Twinrova and the Gerudo thieves had backed his mission, but…

It wasn’t the same. He was married now. He had children. And he would do anything to ensure their future.

Speaking of children, his current dilemma in this moment was that his daughter had agreed to meeting him in one of the great halls of the castle and she had not shown up. Ganondorf had a suspicion he knew why, having met the girl’s fixation a week ago.

Ganondorf still didn’t quite know how to feel about that situation. He’d seen it developing for months now - he’d assigned Hemisi to infiltrate the castle’s defenses while he and his son curried favor with the king. Merovar needed to learn how to manipulate and Hemisi was far more a warrior and strategist, so it made sense, but the Gerudo king hadn’t banked on his daughter falling for one of the Sheikah guards.

Hemisi had known Orik for months now, and the two spent so much time together that Ganondorf would be surprised if his daughter hadn’t memorized all the patrol routes just by wandering around with the kid. At least she was still doing her mission while getting distracted. After finally meeting the kid when she’d brought him home…

He just didn’t know. He wasn’t balking quite as much as he’d been the day he’d met him. But still. He didn’t trust anyone from Hyrule, especially someone who was part of a tribe that had sworn fealty to the royal family. But the kid was only half Sheikah, and perhaps that would benefit him.

He was certainly an impressive fighter. Ganondorf could respect that. He treated Hemisi with the utmost respect and clearly loved her as she loved him, and Ganondorf could respect that almost more so.

He sighed. Perhaps if they keep this up long enough the boy would… well. He doubted Orik would fight against Hyrule. But for his daughter’s sake it was a nice thought to entertain.

The real issue was ensuring Orik didn’t distract Hemisi from her goal, which he was clearly doing since she hadn’t met her father where she was supposed to.

Ganondorf heard hushed words ahead, recognizing the sound of his daughter’s worried voice, and picked up his pace. When he rounded the corner, he saw Hemisi sitting on the ground beside Orik, who was leaning against the wall in an awkward position and looking very unwell.

“What’s going on?” he demanded.

Hemisi jumped, startled, and turned to him. “Father! It’s L—Orik’s sick but he’s being stupid and refusing to leave his post!”

Orik’s gaze snapped up to the Gerudo king and he took a shaky breath, trying to rise out of respect. Ganondorf waved him off. “Stay down, boy.”

“He just threw up in that plant, so uh, don’t walk too close to it,” his daughter added, pointing to a nearby potted plant. Ganondorf scrunched his nose in distaste.

“Are you expecting an attack? Why are you insistent on remaining when you’re incapable of your duty?” He asked the teenager.

Orik blinked, clearly struggling to put words together. “N-no, sir. But I—my patrol is—I s-still have a f-few hours—”

“All you will be doing is sitting here being useless,” Ganondorf pointed out.

“I… just n-need a… a minute…”

Ganondorf watched the idiot dully. He glanced at Hemisi, wondering if she would have an answer to this question and dreading the fact that she probably would. “Where’s his quarters?”

Hemisi easily and immediately gave him directions. Ganondorf raised an eyebrow at her, and she snapped, “N-nothing’s happened, Father!”

Orik, whose face was already flushed with fever, grew even redder. Ganondorf looked between the two with scrutiny, and the Sheikah boy nearly melted into the stone floor.

“I trust not,” he muttered somewhat threateningly. Hemisi was strong and could take care of herself, and the boy seemed honorable enough, but they were both teenagers. Shaking his head, he addressed his daughter. “Inform his superiors that he’s ill and is going to bed.”

Orik perked up a bit, apologetic but stubborn. “Lord Ganondorf, p-please—with… with all d-due respect… L-Lady Impa…”

Ganondorf watched the boy struggle for words and then groan, squeezing his eyes shut. He let the boy fester in the misery for a moment and then knelt down to be at eye level with him. “This Lady Impa will recognize you’re incapable of fulfilling your duty. If she doesn’t, she’s as foolish as you’re being.”

Orik’s gaze sharpened a hair, clearly offended for his commander’s sake, but was respectful enough to say nothing.

“It would be wise of you to listen to me,” Ganondorf noted. “If you’re going to be my son-in-law someday, I will expect obedience.”

The fight immediately drained out of the boy, who blushed so brightly his cheeks practically matched his red eyes. Hemisi snorted into her hand behind him. Ganondorf glanced at his daughter once more. “Once you inform Lady Impa, meet me where you were supposed to. Your brother is waiting.”

“Yes, Father,” she replied with a nod, though she didn’t budge, watching Orik hesitantly.

Ganondorf rolled his eyes at it. Children, honestly. He reached forward, grasping the boy’s wrist and pulling him to stand. “Go, daughter. I’ll take care of him.”

Hemisi dipped in for a quick hug, but Ganondorf pushed her back—“He’s sick, you’re not getting sick too”—and she huffed, leaving.

Orik nearly face planted the instant she was gone.

The Gerudo king caught the boy, somewhat startled, and helped him stand again. “Get yourself together, boy.”

The teenager nodded, stumbling ahead, and it became very apparent that his dizziness and weakness were going to be a problem.

Ganondorf sighed heavily. This was becoming tiresome. He stepped forward and scooped the boy into his arms in one fluid motion—the kid barely weighed anything—and started heading for his quarters.

“S-sir—”

“Be silent,” he ordered, and then added on, “If you throw up on me you will no longer be able to date my daughter.”

Orik sucked in his lips like he’d tasted a lemon, and he hesitantly settled into the hold.

When they reached the boy’s room, Ganondorf was grateful to find it empty. He figured as a soldier the boy had shared barracks, which seemed to be the case given the number of beds, but everyone else apparently was on patrol elsewhere. He plopped the boy on the nearest bed and moved to stoke the dying fire - it was raining outside, filling the castle with a cold dampness, and that was the last thing the kid needed.

Orik hesitantly moved to get up, and Ganondorf glared at him, making him freeze. “F-forgive me, Lord Ganondorf… this isn’t my bed…”

Exaspersted, the Gerudo said, “Tonight it is. Now get under the covers.”

Orik obeyed, finally getting some sense, and Ganondorf threw more wood on the fire. He then grabbed a nearby bucket that contained some extra firewood, dumped out the wood, and put the bucket by the bed. “In case you get sick again. You have water in here?”

When he got no answer, he looked back at the kid to see that he had fallen asleep.

Ganondorf sighed again, though he was less exasperated than before. He didn’t have time or concern to dote over the kid much more, but…

Seeing him sleeping like that reminded him of his own son.

He closed his eyes and looked away. Orik was still an enemy. Until he pledged himself to Hemisi and, through her, to Ganondorf himself, the boy was not his own.

But, perhaps, Ganondorf was less reluctant for him to become one of his own.

#writing #good ganondorf #imprisoning war #Don’t mind me I’m writing out of order because I just have scenes in my head #I’m sure Good ol’ Gan will happily adopt Orik into his family and Orik and Hemisi will be together #And Gan will learn that the name Orik prefers to go by is actually Link and that will be totally fine :) #One big happy family ❤️ #ganondorf #hero of power #Hemisi #legend of zelda #y’know I thought I had gotten these war blorbos out of my head when I finished writing whump prompts #but noooo

[feminismisstillahatemovement]

A few years ago, during one of California’s steadily worsening wildfire seasons, Nat Friedman’s family home burned down. A few months after that, Friedman was in Covid-19 lockdown in the Bay Area, both freaked out and bored. Like many a middle-aged dad, he turned for healing and guidance to ancient Rome. While some of us were watching Tiger King and playing with our kids’ Legos, he read books about the empire and helped his daughter make paper models of Roman villas. Instead of sourdough, he learned to bake Panis Quadratus, a Roman loaf pictured in some of the frescoes found in Pompeii. During sleepless pandemic nights, he spent hours trawling the internet for more Rome stuff. That’s how he arrived at the Herculaneum papyri, a fork in the road that led him toward further obsession. He recalls exclaiming: “How the hell has no one ever told me about this?”

The Herculaneum papyri are a collection of scrolls whose status among classicists approaches the mythical. The scrolls were buried inside an Italian countryside villa by the same volcanic eruption in 79 A.D. that froze Pompeii in time. To date, only about 800 have been recovered from the small portion of the villa that’s been excavated. But it’s thought that the villa, which historians believe belonged to Julius Caesar’s prosperous father-in-law, had a huge library that could contain thousands or even tens of thousands more. Such a haul would represent the largest collection of ancient texts ever discovered, and the conventional wisdom among scholars is that it would multiply our supply of ancient Greek and Roman poetry, plays and philosophy by manyfold. High on their wish lists are works by the likes of Aeschylus, Sappho and Sophocles, but some say it’s easy to imagine fresh revelations about the earliest years of Christianity.

“Some of these texts could completely rewrite the history of key periods of the ancient world,” says Robert Fowler, a classicist and the chair of the Herculaneum Society, a charity that tries to raise awareness of the scrolls and the villa site. “This is the society from which the modern Western world is descended.”

The reason we don’t know exactly what’s in the Herculaneum papyri is, y’know, volcano. The scrolls were preserved by the voluminous amount of superhot mud and debris that surrounded them, but the knock-on effects of Mount Vesuvius charred them beyond recognition. The ones that have been excavated look like leftover logs in a doused campfire. People have spent hundreds of years trying to unroll them—sometimes carefully, sometimes not. And the scrolls are brittle. Even the most meticulous attempts at unrolling have tended to end badly, with them crumbling into ashy pieces.

In recent years, efforts have been made to create high-resolution, 3D scans of the scrolls’ interiors, the idea being to unspool them virtually. This work, though, has often been more tantalizing than revelatory. Scholars have been able to glimpse only snippets of the scrolls’ innards and hints of ink on the papyrus. Some experts have sworn they could see letters in the scans, but consensus proved elusive, and scanning the entire cache is logistically difficult and prohibitively expensive for all but the deepest-pocketed patrons. Anything on the order of words or paragraphs has long remained a mystery.

But Friedman wasn’t your average Rome-loving dad. He was the chief executive officer of GitHub Inc., the massive software development platform that Microsoft Corp. acquired in 2018. Within GitHub, Friedman had been developing one of the first coding assistants powered by artificial intelligence, and he’d seen the rising power of AI firsthand. He had a hunch that AI algorithms might be able to find patterns in the scroll images that humans had missed.

After studying the problem for some time and ingratiating himself with the classics community, Friedman, who’s left GitHub to become an AI-focused investor, decided to start a contest. Last year he launched the Vesuvius Challenge, offering $1 million in prizes to people who could develop AI software capable of reading four passages from a single scroll. “Maybe there was obvious stuff no one had tried,” he recalls thinking. “My life has validated this notion again and again.”

As the months ticked by, it became clear that Friedman’s hunch was a good one. Contestants from around the world, many of them twentysomethings with computer science backgrounds, developed new techniques for taking the 3D scans and flattening them into more readable sheets. Some appeared to find letters, then words. They swapped messages about their work and progress on a Discord chat, as the often much older classicists sometimes looked on in hopeful awe and sometimes slagged off the amateur historians.

On Feb. 5, Friedman and his academic partner Brent Seales, a computer science professor and scroll expert, plan to reveal that a group of contestants has delivered transcriptions of many more than four passages from one of the scrolls. While it’s early to draw any sweeping conclusions from this bit of work, Friedman says he’s confident that the same techniques will deliver far more of the scrolls’ contents. “My goal,” he says, “is to unlock all of them.”

Before Mount Vesuvius erupted, the town of Herculaneum sat at the edge of the Gulf of Naples, the sort of getaway wealthy Romans used to relax and think. Unlike Pompeii, which took a direct hit from the Vesuvian lava flow, Herculaneum was buried gradually by waves of ash, pumice and gases. Although the process was anything but gentle, most inhabitants had time to escape, and much of the town was left intact under the hardening igneous rock. Farmers first rediscovered the town in the 18th century, when some well-diggers found marble statues in the ground. In 1750 one of them collided with the marble floor of the villa thought to belong to Caesar’s father-in-law, Senator Lucius Calpurnius Piso Caesoninus, known to historians today as Piso.

During this time, the first excavators who dug tunnels into the villa to map it were mostly after more obviously valuable artifacts, like the statues, paintings and recognizable household objects. Initially, people who ran across the scrolls, some of which were scattered across the colorful floor mosaics, thought they were just logs and threw them on a fire. Eventually, though, somebody noticed the logs were often found in what appeared to be libraries or reading rooms, and realized they were burnt papyrus. Anyone who tried to open one, however, found it crumbling in their hands.

Terrible things happened to the scrolls in the many decades that followed. The scientif-ish attempts to loosen the pages included pouring mercury on them (don’t do that) and wafting a combination of gases over them (ditto). Some of the scrolls have been sliced in half, scooped out and generally abused in ways that still make historians weep. The person who came the closest in this period was Antonio Piaggio, a priest. In the late 1700s he built a wooden rack that pulled silken threads attached to the edge of the scrolls and could be adjusted with a simple mechanism to unfurl the document ever so gently, at a rate of 1 inch per day. Improbably, it sort of worked; the contraption opened some scrolls, though it tended to damage them or outright tear them into pieces. In later centuries, teams organized by other European powers, including one assembled by Napoleon, pieced together torn bits of mostly illegible text here and there.

Today the villa remains mostly buried, unexcavated and off-limits even to the experts. Most of what’s been found there and proven legible has been attributed to Philodemus, an Epicurean philosopher and poet, leading historians to hope there’s a much bigger main library buried elsewhere on-site. A wealthy, educated man like Piso would have had the classics of the day along with more modern works of history, law and philosophy, the thinking goes. “I do believe there’s a much bigger library there,” says Richard Janko, a University of Michigan classical studies professor who’s spent painstaking hours assembling scroll fragments by hand, like a jigsaw puzzle. “I see no reason to think it should not still be there and preserved in the same way.” Even an ordinary citizen from that time could have collections of tens of thousands of scrolls, Janko says. Piso is known to have corresponded often with the Roman statesman Cicero, and the apostle Paul had passed through the region a couple of decades before Vesuvius erupted. There could be writings tied to his visit that comment on Jesus and Christianity. “We have about 800 scrolls from the villa today,” Janko says. “There could be thousands or tens of thousands more.”

In the modern era, the great pioneer of the scrolls is Brent Seales, a computer science professor at the University of Kentucky. For the past 20 years he’s used advanced medical imaging technology designed for CT scans and ultrasounds to analyze unreadable old texts. For most of that time he’s made the Herculaneum papyri his primary quest. “I had to,” he says. “No one else was working on it, and no one really thought it was even possible.”

Progress was slow. Seales built software that could theoretically take the scans of a coiled scroll and unroll it virtually, but it wasn’t prepared to handle a real Herculaneum scroll when he put it to the test in 2009. “The complexity of what we saw broke all of my software,” he says. “The layers inside the scroll were not uniform. They were all tangled and mashed together, and my software could not follow them reliably.”

By 2016 he and his students had managed to read the Ein Gedi scroll, a charred ancient Hebrew text, by programming their specialized software to detect changes in density between the burnt manuscript and the burnt ink layered onto it. The software made the letters light up against a darker background. Seales’ team had high hopes to apply this technique to the Herculaneum papyri, but those were written with a different, carbon-based ink that their imaging gear couldn’t illuminate in the same way.

Over the past few years, Seales has begun experimenting with AI. He and his team have scanned the scrolls with more powerful imaging machines, examined portions of the papyrus where ink was visible and trained algorithms on what those patterns looked like. The hope was that the AI would start picking up on details that the human eye missed and could apply what it learned to more obfuscated scroll chunks. This approach proved fruitful, though it remained a battle of inches. Seales’ technology uncovered bits and pieces of the scrolls, but they were mostly unreadable. He needed another breakthrough.

Friedman set up Google alerts for Seales and the papyri in 2020, while still early in his Rome obsession. After a year passed with no news, he started watching YouTube videos of Seales discussing the underlying challenges. Among other things, he needed money. By 2022, Friedman was convinced he could help. He invited Seales out to California for an event where Silicon Valley types get together and share big ideas. Seales gave a short presentation on the scrolls to the group, but no one bit. “I felt very, very guilty about this and embarrassed because he’d come out to California, and California had failed him,” Friedman says.

On a whim, Friedman proposed the idea of a contest to Seales. He said he’d put up some of his own money to fund it, and his investing partner Daniel Gross offered to match it.

Seales says he was mindful of the trade-offs. The Herculaneum papyri had turned into his life’s work, and he wanted to be the one to decode them. More than a few of his students had also poured time and energy into the project and planned to publish papers about their efforts. Now, suddenly, a couple of rich guys from Silicon Valley were barging into their territory and suggesting that internet randos could deliver the breakthroughs that had eluded the experts.

More than glory, though, Seales really just hoped the scrolls would be read, and he agreed to hear Friedman out and help design the AI contest. They kicked off the Vesuvius Challenge last year on the Ides of March. Friedman announced the contest on the platform we fondly remember as Twitter, and many of his tech friends agreed to pledge their money toward the effort while a cohort of budding papyrologists began to dig into the task at hand. After a couple of days, Friedman had amassed enough money to offer $1 million in prizes, along with some extra money to throw at some of the more time-intensive basics.

Friedman hired people online to gather the existing scroll imagery, catalog it and create software tools that made it easier to chop the scrolls into segments and to flatten the images out into something that was readable on a computer screen. After finding a handful of people who were particularly good at this, he made them full members of his scroll contest team, paying them $40 an hour. His hobby was turning into a lifestyle.

The initial splash of attention helped open new doors. Seales had lobbied Italian and British collectors for years to scan his first scrolls. Suddenly the Italians were now offering up two new scrolls for scanning to provide more AI training data. With Friedman’s backing, a team set to work building precision-fitting, 3D-printed cases to protect the new scrolls on their private jet flight from Italy to a particle accelerator in England. There they were scanned for three days straight at a cost of about $70,000.

Seeing the imaging process in action drives home both the magic and difficulty inherent in this quest. One of the scroll remnants placed in the scanner, for example, wasn’t much bigger than a fat finger. It was peppered by high-energy X-rays, much like a human going through a CT scan, except the resulting images were delivered in extremely high resolution. (For the real nerds: about 8 micrometers.) These images were virtually carved into a mass of tiny slices too numerous for a person to count. Along each slice, the scanner picked up infinitesimal changes in density and thickness. Software was then used to unroll and flatten out the slices, and the resulting images looked recognizably like sheets of papyrus, the writing on them hidden.

The files generated by this process are so large and difficult to deal with on a regular computer that Friedman couldn’t throw a whole scroll at most would-be contest winners. To be eligible for the $700,000 grand prize, contestants would have until the end of 2023 to read just four passages of at least 140 characters of contiguous text. Along the way, smaller prizes ranging from $1,000 to $100,000 would be awarded for various milestones, such as the first to read letters in a scroll or to build software tools capable of smoothing the image processing. With a nod to his open-source roots, Friedman insisted these prizes could be won only if the contestants agreed to show the world how they did it.

Luke Farritor was hooked from the start. Farritor—a bouncy 22-year-old Nebraskan undergraduate who often exclaims, “Oh, my goodness!”—heard Friedman describe the contest on a podcast in March. “I think there’s a 50% chance that someone will encounter this opportunity, get the data and get nerd-sniped by it, and we’ll solve it this year,” Friedman said on the show. Farritor thought, “That could be me.”

The early months were a slog of splotchy images. Then Casey Handmer, an Australian mathematician, physicist and polymath, scored a point for humankind by beating the computers to the first major breakthrough. Handmer took a few stabs at writing scroll-reading code, but he soon concluded he might have better luck if he just stared at the images for a really long time. Eventually he began to notice what he and the other contestants have come to call “crackle,” a faint pattern of cracks and lines on the page that resembles what you might see in the mud of a dried-out lakebed. To Handmer’s eyes, the crackle seemed to have the shape of Greek letters and the blobs and strokes that accompany handwritten ink. He says he believes it to be dried-out ink that’s lifted up from the surface of the page.

The crackle discovery led Handmer to try identifying clips of letters in one scroll image. In the spirit of the contest, he posted his findings to the Vesuvius Challenge’s Discord channel in June. At the time, Farritor was a summer intern at SpaceX. He was in the break room sipping a Diet Coke when he saw the post, and his initial disbelief didn’t last long. Over the next month he began hunting for crackle in the other image files: one letter here, another couple there. Most of the letters were invisible to the human eye, but 1% or 2% had the crackle. Armed with those few letters, he trained a model to recognize hidden ink, revealing a few more letters. Then Farritor added those letters to the model’s training data and ran it again and again and again. The model starts with something only a human can see—the crackle pattern—then learns to see ink we can’t.

Unlike today’s large-language AI models, which gobble up data, Farritor’s model was able to get by with crumbs. For each 64-pixel-by-64-pixel square of the image, it was merely asking, is there ink here or not? And it helped that the output was known: Greek letters, squared along the right angles of the cross-hatched papyrus fibers.

In early August, Farritor received an opportunity to put his software to the test. He’d returned to Nebraska to finish out the summer and found himself at a house party with friends when a new, crackle-rich image popped up in the contest’s Discord channel. As the people around him danced and drank, Farritor hopped on his phone, connected remotely to his dorm computer, threw the image into his machine-learning system, then put his phone away. “An hour later, I drive all my drunk friends home, and then I’m walking out of the parking garage, and I take my phone out not expecting to see anything,” he says. “But when I open it up, there’s three Greek letters on the screen.”

Around 2 a.m., Farritor texted his mom and then Friedman and the other contestants about what he’d found, fighting back tears of joy. “That was the moment where I was like, ‘Oh, my goodness, this is actually going to work. We’re going to read the scrolls.’”

Soon enough, Farritor found 10 letters and won $40,000 for one of the contest’s progress prizes. The classicists reviewed his work and said he’d found the Greek word for “purple.”

Farritor continued to train his machine-learning model on crackle data and to post his progress on Discord and Twitter. The discoveries he and Handmer made also set off a new wave of enthusiasm among contestants, and some began to employ similar techniques. In the latter part of 2023, Farritor formed an alliance with two other contestants, Youssef Nader and Julian Schilliger, in which they agreed to combine their technology and share any prize money.

In the end, the Vesuvius Challenge received 18 entries for its grand prize. Some submissions were ho-hum, but a handful showed that Friedman’s gamble had paid off. The scroll images that were once ambiguous blobs now had entire paragraphs of letters lighting up across them. The AI systems had brought the past to life. “It’s a situation that you practically never encounter as a classicist,” says Tobias Reinhardt, a professor of ancient philosophy and Latin literature at the University of Oxford. “You mostly look at texts that have been looked at by someone before. The idea that you are reading a text that was last unrolled on someone’s desk 1,900 years ago is unbelievable.”

A group of classicists reviewed all the entries and did, in fact, deem Farritor’s team the winners. They were able to stitch together more than a dozen columns of text with entire paragraphs all over their entry. Still translating, the scholars believe the text to be another work by Philodemus, one centered on the pleasures of music and food and their effects on the senses. “Peering at and beginning to transcribe the first reasonably legible scans of this brand-new ancient book was an extraordinarily emotional experience,” says Janko, one of the reviewers. While these passages aren’t particularly revelatory about ancient Rome, most classics scholars have their hopes for what might be next.

There’s a chance that the villa is tapped out—that there are no more libraries of thousands of scrolls waiting to be discovered—or that the rest have nothing mind-blowing to offer. Then again, there’s the chance they contain valuable lessons for the modern world.

That world, of course, includes Ercolano, the modern town of about 50,000 built on top of ancient Herculaneum. More than a few residents own property and buildings atop the villa site. “They would have to kick people out of Ercolano and destroy everything to uncover the ancient city,” says Federica Nicolardi, a papyrologist at the University of Naples Federico II.

Barring a mass relocation, Friedman is working to refine what he’s got. There’s plenty left to do; the first contest yielded about 5% of one scroll. A new set of contestants, he says, might be able to reach 85%. He also wants to fund the creation of more automated systems that can speed the processes of scanning and digital smoothing. He’s now one of the few living souls who’s roamed the villa tunnels, and he says he’s also contemplating buying scanners that can be placed right at the villa and used in parallel to scan tons of scrolls per day. “Even if there’s just one dialogue of Aristotle or a beautiful lost Homeric poem or a dispatch from a Roman general about this Jesus Christ guy who’s roaming around,” he says, “all you need is one of those for the whole thing to be more than worth it.”

#long story but amazing #bloomberg wouldn't let me link the article #herculaneum scrolls

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL

April 2023 Wk 2

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying most.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Bed Friend (Sat YT, GaGa & iQIYI uncut) ep 9 of 10 - My biggest concern is that Uea left his sister in that house with a known abuser. Meanwhile, the office teasing was cute. I’m thinking that the final two episodes were mostly added to deal with the backstory resolution of the family drama, and to add a sappy proposal thing. I’m not necessarily mad about it, but I do think there’s probably would’ve been a better tighter story at 8 episodes. 

Future (Thai Sun YouTube & Gaga) ep 4 of 5 - There is nothing to this show but softness. Also we visited my old exclamation to the BL gods: please don’t make them act crying. It’s so difficult to watch. That said I still love this  stupid show.

Pastsenger (Thai Weds Gaga) 6 of 12 eps - Wow. Sides kissing. Brave high school kid! Also mains. Wait. What is happening? 

A Boss and a Babe (Fri YouTube) ep 7 of 12 - Having a rich boyfriend sure is clutch. Boss is smart to ingratiate himself with his boyfriend’s gaming team. Also there is no doubt that they are complete and total boyfriends, the most boyfriendly boyfriends ever. 

Tin Tam Jai (Tues Gaga & iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - I’m pretty much fast forwarding anything to do with the main couple I just find them so boring. Although my beloved side dishes have disappeared. So I guess I am watching it for the faen fatal? 

Chains of Heart (Sat iQIYI) ep 9 of 10 - Whatever. Good sex scene tho. Bummer about the, ya know, story. 

The Promise (Thai Weds YT) ep 6 of 10 - ON HIATUS UNTIL APRIL 19.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - It’s just the best. It’s so sweet. Yutaka’s little smile because the kid likes him and wants to cook with him is probably the warmest most endearing thing ever to happen in JBL. 

Unintentional Love Story (Korea Thurs iQIYI) 9-10 fin - sorry I won’t have a chance to watch this until early next week but I promise to post about it! 

The Eighth Sense (Korea Weds Viki) eps 5-6 of 10 - Hyung mistakes made by constantly acting EXACTLY like bf in front of their friends is very cute. I don’t have much to say a this time. Narrative and characterization is unfolding as expected, staying tense as we get little nuggets of backstory. Lines will be crossed, one way or another. The trot part was VERY funny. Also we got us a on screen rep of a fairygodBLer. These two kiss well but all I can see when they do is how much pain is incoming. I don’t know what was up with the ending but we do have 4 more to go, so I don’t think we are actually in an H3:MODC situation. 

My Story (Pinoy Sat YouTube) - It’s a bit frenetic, camp, crazy, and outrageous, but I’m not mad about any of that because it’s classic Pinoy BL. So I think I’ll keep watching. This is the same characters as My Day. Which means they did break up the main couple from that series. So if that’s going to traumatize you, be aware. There are a lot of storylines going on. And I’m just not sure BL from the Philippines can handle this much at once, they may have bitten of more BL than they can chew. 

Naked Dinner AKA Zenra Meshi (Japan Fri Gaga) - Japan is so weird. I mean that in a good way (but also sometimes in a bad way). Also sometimes just weird. Also embarrassing and cringe. I’m going to watch it but I don’t like it very much. 

It’s Airing But ...

Love Syndrome (Thai Sat WeTV) stopped at ep 2 of 12 - I’m just not into any aspect of it (except Lee Long Shi and I can watch him in Tin Tem Jai) - saving to binge if the end is solid.

Venus in the Sky (Sat YouTube) pilot/tester?) 0 of 10 - not entirely sure what’s up with this one distribution-wise, but the pilot was cute, classic university-set pulp. I hope it happens because the leads are cute with good chemsitry and I thought it was fun. However, it totally holds together as it’s own little short story too.

Make a Wish (Thai Weds ?) from WaGa Creative staring Fluke Natouch (OhmFluke UWMA etc...) & Judo (The Miracle Of Teddy Bear) in a medical-fantasy. About a doctor who sees ghosts and a deity who resides in a Bodhi tree that earns merits whenever he fulfills a wish based on a y-novel by Sammon (Manner of Death, Triage). Same as above.

In Case You Missed it

Cafe In Love 10 eps finished its run.

Destiny Seeker 10 eps also finished its run.

A First Love Story is on Gaga now. It’s my favorite BL short ever made, check it out. It’s wonderful.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting:

04.18 Step By Step (Thai WeTV & Gaga) - 10 eps office age gap, I am all in! 

04.19 The Promise is back!

Finishing: Bed Friend, Chains, Future

I might start watching Destiny Seeker or Cafe in Love, or both.

2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED)

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

En of Love franchise leaning into its brand (Future the series)

I love their friendship and their bromances and this was an adorable moment ... but now I want these two to lead out a BL together. 

I love an “accidental” outing (both Boss & Babe). 

Calling out tropes and characterization, as ya do.

Passing along the familial obligation of care. 

 (all Bed Friend) 

(last week)

Current Kpop earworm? Block B’s Very Good, I TOLD you I’ve been dipping into the well a lot recently. I really miss Kpop’s 2nd gen insanity phase. 

#this week #in BL #bl news #BL gossip #upcoming BL #new BL #best BL #BL reviews #Thai BL #korean bl #Taiwanese BL #Japanese BL #live action yaoi #Rakutan Viki #gagaoolala #GMMTV #Kpop earworm #Block B #adapted from a manga #pinoy bl #Bed Friend #Future the series #Pastsenger #A Boss and a Babe #Tin Tam Jai #Chains of Heart #Our Dining Table #Bokura no Shokutaku #Unintentional Love Story #The Eighth Sense

[youhideastar]

Fit for Purpose Deleted Scenes IV: Rut

Today's deleted scenes from Fit for Purpose deal with the question of LWJ's rut/a beta's ability to satisfy a rut or heat in general in this universe - a question to which I gave waaaaaay too much thought haha. Other deleted scenes posts are linked in the masterpost. NSFW text. I hope you enjoy!

Okay, so. WWX says several times during Fit for Purpose that, as a beta, he can’t satisfy an alpha’s rut or an omega’s heat. It’s not clear in the story whether that is literal, i.e., there’s a biological incompatibility, or just societal, i.e., “can’t” because it would be scandalous or otherwise transgress social norms. Originally, I figured it would be the latter, which gave rise to this scene:

“It’s kind of too bad you can’t take my rut,” the bold girl says, afterward. She’s breathing hard, still. Sweat gleams in the valley between her breasts. “You’re so good at that, da-shixiong.”

Wei Wuxian props himself up on his elbow. He’s eighteen now, and he’s done a lot of things, but he hasn’t done that, and now that he thinks of it, he’s not sure why. “I could, if you want,” he offers.

He knows right away that it’s a mistake.

She looks like she’s smelled something bad. “That’s for—don’t joke about that. Rut is for your mate. It’s not—” She shivers.

Wei Wuxian smiles, ingratiating. “Ah, forgive this one, shijie – how would I know about mates, ah?”

She laughs. “Good point. Well. Ruts and heats are for your mate, da-shixiong. Serious, you know? Not just for fun. Not like this.”

That would then be followed by this scene:

LWJ’s rut happens during Sunshot. WWX hovers around outside Lan Zhan’s tent. Thinks about how he can’t help Lan Zhan.

Afterward, Lan Zhan asks him why he was hovering.

“How—”

“Scent,” Lan Zhan says succinctly.

“I don’t… I don’t have a scent.” That’s the whole point.

“You do. Now.” A negative.

“And what do I smell like? Now?”

Lan Zhan hesitates.

“Tell me.” Rasp.

“Like death.”

Beat.

“Ah.”

That would have been way too bleak for the finished fic, so I cut it quite a while ago. But I kept ruminating on the topic, and I changed my mind: I wanted the source of the problem to be a supposed biological difficulty (just like the lack of fertility backs up the “no kids” and the lack of a scent gland backs up the “no claim”), because the societal take above was just too bullshitty. It didn’t seem like something that would prevent WWX from believing he could be LWJ’s mate. There needed to be at least a grain of truth to it.

“But Dea,” I hear you say, “did this question need to be answered in the story in the first place?” Well, I ultimately decided the answer was no, and the final posted fic leaves the question open:

“I can’t—” satisfy your rut, Wei Wuxian almost says, parroting what he’s been told his whole life. But those same voices told him he couldn’t have a mate. Or a son.

So instead, he takes a deep breath and says, “Yeah. I’d like that.”

But for, like, a month, I was convinced that if I left this worldbuilding thread unresolved, readers would not find the story satisfying. They’d be left wondering whether WWX and LWJ’s relationship is about to fall apart the first time LWJ goes into rut. Explaining it like this, it sounds so irrational. But I really worried about this! I was sure I needed to get into the nitty-gritty. So I wrote stuff like this:

“Lan Zhan.”

“Mn.”

“It’s all right if you want to spend your ruts with someone else.”

“No.”

“Lan Zhan—”

Kiss in the dark.

“If Wei Ying does not wish to share my ruts, I will continue to suppress them. At my level of cultivation, the techniques to do so are not harmful.”

Beat.

“If Wei Ying would wish to share my ruts. It would—that would bring me joy.”

Beat. WWX swallows. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I can’t. I can’t—” he’s blushing. “I can’t take your knot.”

Lan Zhan’s hand slips between his legs; his fingertips circle WWX’s hole. He sounds almost amused when he says, “Wei Ying imagines his body can stretch no farther than this?”

“Lan Zhan.” WWX’s cheeks flaming.

“You can take more,” Lan Zhan says, with perfect unconcern. “With careful and patient preparation. But only if you wish to.”

This kind of worldbuilding nerdery is so fun for me. (And I flatter myself that this scene is hot.) But this is SO in the weeds, and it was making the final sex scene SO long, when really, that scene needs to be as short as possible so as not to compete with the actual climax of the fic. In fact, I ultimately did not include any sex in the final sex scene at all, for that very reason!

So then I tried an abbreviated version that would answer the basic question during the sex itself:

“I—I’m sorry I can’t do this for you in your rut.” WWX all apologetic.

“Why not?”

“I can’t—you know. Take your knot. Physically.”

Lan Zhan raises an eyebrow. He twists his fingers inside Wei Wuxian; tugs at Wei Wuxian’s rim with his thumb, making him gasp. “Wei Ying’s body stretches no further than this?”

“Lan Zhan!” Blushing furiously. He has to admit, “I… don’t know. Maybe it does.” Everybody says—but then again, everyone says all kinds of stupid things. Maybe he can satisfy an alpha’s rut. Lan Zhan’s rut. Maybe he could have all along.

But (a) like I said, I was starting to realize that I didn’t need to write the sex itself and (b) this bit doesn’t actually resolve the question (although it suggests an answer) and if I’m not going to answer the question anyway, then I might as well just set the question aside super briefly, which is what I eventually did in the two lines of the finished fic quoted above.

I hope this was interesting! Tomorrow, we’ll go through all my failed attempts at getting Jiang Cheng to talk about his feelings. 🤣

#the untamed #deleted scene #my writing #wangxian #fit for purpose #wangxian a/b/o bingo

[fandomnerd9602]

Scream for your Life

for @perfectartisanwerewolf

Detective Bailey made his way to his dingy little apartment, his plan fully formed. The pieces were all in place. His plan for revenge was foolproof.

Quinn was among the Core Five's apartment and Ethan had ingratiated himself with Chad. All that was needed was for him to give them the signal. He just finished off the rival fandom nerds who threatened to go after Sam and Tara before him.

He grabs himself a beer from his fridge and slams the door shut. He turns to see two Ghostfaces standing there in his doorframe.

"What the hell?" Bailey growls at the two masked killers, "I haven't given either of you the signal yet!"

The two simply shrug at him.

"I need you both to be focused on your target" Bailey growls, "remember what happened to Richie?! You think I killed that bitch of a wife for nothing?!"

"Oh we remember" Quinn's mask speaks up. "Do you remember what Richie did to us?"

"The threats? The injuries?" Ethan's speaks up too. "Or were you just so focused on perfect little Richie that you forgot about us?!"

"What are you-?" Bailey didn't get the chance to finish his thought. Five more Ghostfaces appeared from the other room. All seven Ghostfaces lunged at him, stabbing the detective repeatedly. His screams were muffled by the only Ghostface holding his mouth. Eventually the light left the detective's eyes.

Everyone pulled off their masks: Quinn, Ethan, Sam, Tara, Mindy, Chad and Y/N. Seven Ghostfaces, or as Mindy would've jokingly called it: a Cult of Ghostface.

"You saved us a lot of trouble, Y/N" Ethan gives you a bro hug. "Thank you. Mom didn't deserve that."

"Bailey was the real villain" Y/N states. "intending to use his own kids as henchmen now that's sick."

"Richie was a tool. And an abusive brother" Quinn summarizes as she gives Y/N a hug and a kiss. "Now our mother can rest in peace"

"What a twist, huh guys?" Mindy states as she wipes her blade.

Sam smirks, "what can be said? Franchises have to have a few twists every now and then"

Y/N places his knife, still stained wtih Bailey's blood in the detective's hand. Tara places a forged suicide note/ letter of confession in his hands.

Detective Bailey was gone and now the world would know what a villain he really was.

#scream 6 #scream ghostface #scream fanfic #scream franchise #scream movie #scream #quinn bailey #ethan bailey #liana liberato #detective bailey #ghostface x reader #quinn bailey x reader #ghostface killer #ghostface #sam carpenter #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #tara carpenter

[iwonderwh0]

I've been replaying dbh lately, and: I unlocked Amanda's profile in the gallery and realized I'd forgotten one important detail. That Amanda has the authority and ability to remotely deactive Connor, at any second. The only reason she didn't during the escape of Jericho or Night of the Soul was because he was still UsefulTM. As she could assume control of him anytime, anywhere, but needed him to ingratiate himself to the Jericrew and get close to them before murdering Markus on live TV (and i wondered about that for a while - why wait, why not just kill Markus in the church, or hell, even immediately after deviating at Jerico - but i suppose it's a much bigger negative impact on public opinion to watch an android kill the deviant leader live. Their support is still tenuous, at best. This would likely tip plenty of people into believing that deviants are, in fact, unstable, unpredictable, and dangerous.)

But also...the fact that Amanda could have Thanos snapped Connor at any moment and he would have crumpled to the ground like an electrocuted pigeon. I just feel like, that as a fandom, we don't talk about this aspect of her nearly enough.

Imagine, if you will, Hank waiting for Connor at ass fucking o'clock (for him), freezing his ass off and hoping and waiting Connor wasn't hurt, wasn't laying dead in a ditch, or burning in an alley somewhere- and then he turns and Connor's there, missing a tie, but still with that goofy Superman curl and goofy smile. He's tugging the kid into a hug by the neck before he can think twice about it, and he thinks that maybe. Just for a split second. That maybe the world ain't all bad.

Connor's nearly melted into the embrace, lax (as much as THE stiffest android he's ever met, anyways) as can be, except he suddenly tenses in Hank's arms. Hank leans back, putting distance between them, just enough to look Connor in the eye, except the deviant isn't looking at him. Instead, his wine dark eyes are fixated ahead, wide, blank, and unseeing.

"Connor? You alright?" He asks nervously.

Connor does not reply, or tilt his head, or do any of the other 300 little idle animations he does. His LED is a steady, unblinking blue. He doesn't even seem to be simulating breathing.

"Connor? Hey, talk to me, kid." He knows his voice is edging near panic, but he doesn't care, giving Connor's shoulder a little jostle.

Connor remains unresponsive for 4 seconds, and then-

his LED turns a bright, burning red, his eyes roll to the back of his head, eyelids flickering up a storm, and he starts falling backwards. Hank watches it all as if in slow motion.

"Whoa, hey, hey, hey-" He yanks Connor against him, lowering him until he's cradled almost in Hank's lap. "Con, help me, what do i gotta do? I know fuck all about androids, so you're gonna have to tell me what to do here." He knows holding a hand to an android's forehead won't tell him anything, that they don't even get sick or cold, but he does it anyways just to have something to do with his hands. "I can't-fuck, just please, be ok. Don't do this to me, please-"

Connor's red LED flickers, once, twice, then holds steady for a moment before dimming slowly to nothing. Empty, grey, and lifeless.

Somewhere, far away from the icy slush and the screams bouncing off the detroit streets, Amanda snips another dead rose.

Damm, okay!

Yeah, I think shooting the deviant leader on live tv during the victory speech is surely much more impactful “last twist” than doing it in the middle off some mess where someone else could still theoretically take over the leader role (although it’s not like Connor didn’t try)

So you want that hug scene but with drama? Can’t blame you, haha

Although I’m a huge fun of something like this happening right then and where Connor resisted shooting Markus, once again during the speechtime. I mean, him shooting himself regardless of whetger or not there are Markus. Because if he can resist Amanda when Markus is alive, it’s not entirely sure why isn’t it an option when he’s alone, so shooting himself in both scenarios kinda make sense imo

#asks