celestial trio sketches bc i would die for them

it was 102 yesterday i’m so sunburned lol,, everyone please drink lots of water if it’s hot where you are :D

ALSO i love the new tumblr mutuals feature APPARENTLY I HAVE A BUN CH OF COOL MUTUALS I HAD NO IDEA FOLLOWED ME BACK?? @nutellabit @alicecraftgirl @quintastiic specifically hello LMAO

Ultimate Doctor Who Poll Round 1 - Matchup 4

Episode Summaries under the cut

123: The Lodger - Season 5, Episode 11: A mysterious force prevents the TARDIS from properly landing, keeping the Doctor out and trapping Amy inside. To investigate the source of this interference the Doctor must rent out a room in the building the signal is coming from and try to pass himself off as a normal human. He attempts to investigate the entity upstairs while remaining undetected. The entity lures several people upstairs where they disappear. When one of the Doctor's flatmates, Sophie, is lured into the upstairs flat, he and their other flatmate, Craig follow to save her. The entity turns out to be an auto-pilot system searching for a new pilot, focusing on anybody who wants to leave. Craig is able to destroy the system by focusing on wanting to stay there with Sophie, who he loves.

134: The Bells of Saint John - Season 7B, Episode 1: The Doctor receives a phone call from Clara Oswald, who appears identical to two other women the Doctor has met, both of whom died after saving his life and giving the same final words. The Doctor finds that Clara has no knowledge of this, but is attacked by a robot shortly after the Doctor arrives. While he takes care of her, he discovers that several people around the world have been captured by these robots, their mind stolen from their body and uploaded to the internet. The Doctor finds the source of these robots and uploads the leaders mind to the internet as well, forcing them to send everybody's minds back to their bodies to get her out. The Doctor invites Clara to travel with him, while he secretly tries to discover her connection to the two other women.

By: Christopher F. Rufo and Luke Rosiak

Published: Apr 22, 2024

Recent headlines about UCLA School of Medicine suggest that the institution has lost its focus. Instead of brushing up on organic chemistry, its students were subjected to lessons on “Indigenous womxn” and “two-spirits.” Future doctors had to take a class on “structural racism” and were led in a “Free Palestine” chant by a Hamas-praising guest speaker. The school made plans to segregate students by race for courses on left-wing ideology, and two of its psychiatry residents championed “revolutionary suicide.” 

Why has the school charted this course? One reason is its commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion ideology. UCLA has a DEI program called “Cultural North Star,” and at the medical school, it is led by Natalie J. Perry, whose official title is Cultural North Star Lead. Her UCLA biography says that her job is to “embed our aspirational Cultural North Stars [sic] value [sic] in our organizational DNA.” UCLA honored Perry last month for teaching students to “do what’s right,” saying her “empathy and radical listening” are to thank for her “success as an educator and a leader.”

According to a Daily Wire and City Journal investigation, however, Perry’s academic career is based on fraud. Perry published her Ph.D. dissertation in 2014 at the University of Virginia about college diversity programs. An analysis of the paper found it ridden with the worst sort of plagiarism, reproducing large swaths of text directly from several other authors, without proper citations. The scale of the plagiarism suggests that Perry lacks both ethics and competence and raises questions about academic programs that push DEI.

Perry’s dissertation lifted passages from ten other papers. In key portions of her text, she copied almost every paragraph from other sources without attribution. She fails even to mention at least four of the ten plagiarized papers anywhere in her dissertation.

Let’s review some examples.

The first three pages of Perry’s paper, “Faculty Perceptions of Diversity at a Highly Selective Research-Intensive University,” suggest that she did not even bother to read beyond the first page of papers from which she stole. Her dissertation’s second sentence reproduces verbatim part of a sentence on the first page of a paper by Adrianna Kezar, Peter Eckel, Melissa Contreras-McGavin, and Stephen John Quaye. Her third paragraph, without citation, lifts more than 100 words from the first page of a paper by Angela Locks, Sylvia Hurtado, Nicholas Bowman, and Leticia Oseguera.

Each colored portion of the below text was taken from a different author:

In some cases when Perry did include parenthetical citations, she wasn’t citing the papers whose text she had lifted. Instead, she simply reproduced the citations included in those stolen excerpts.

Take the above paragraph, which ends with “(Bernard, 2005; Bollag, 2005; Munoz, Jasis, Young, and McLaren, 2004; Williams, Nakashima, Kich, and Reginald, 1996).” Perry was not synthesizing those authors. Instead, the citation was part of Adalberto Aguirre and Ruben Martinez’s paper, from which she apparently copied and pasted, without attribution.

A core part of Perry’s dissertation involved summarizing work done by professors Robert Quinn and John Rohrbaugh. Instead of citing them directly, however, Perry cribbed summaries from other academics. Perry copied and pasted almost all of a nearly thousand-word passage from a paper by Chad Hartnell, Amy Yi Ou, and Angelo Kinicki, without quoting the authors.

Consider, for example, the following excerpt from Perry’s dissertation. The italicized portions were taken verbatim from Hartnell, Yi Ou, and Kinicki’s paper:

The CVF is widely used in organizational literature (Ostroff et al., 2003). Measures of organizational culture that directly or indirectly assess the CVF have been administered in over 10,000 organizations globally (Cameron et al., 2006) within the following academic disciplines: management, marketing, supply-chain management, accounting, social services, hospitality, and health care. Further, the reliability and content validity of Cameron and Ettington's (1988) measure of the CVF has been empirically supported in studies utilizing multitrait-multimethod analysis (Quinn & Spreitzer, 1991), multidimensional scaling (Howard, 1998), and structural equation modeling (Kalliath, Bluedorn, & Gillespie, 1999). Surprisingly, prior to 2011, there had been limited assessment of the theoretical foundation of the CVF despite its reported content validity and widespread use in research and practice.

The rest of Perry’s analysis of Quinn and Rohrbaugh’s work is largely copied, unquoted and unattributed, from a 2003 paper by John Smart. Below are pages 13 and 14 of Perry’s paper, outlining its “Theoretical Framework,” with the italicized text coming directly from Smart:

To develop this theory Quinn and Rohrbaugh (1983) asked a panel of distinguished organizational theorists to evaluate the similarity between every possible pair of 39 indexes of organizational effectiveness derived from Campbell’s (1977) exhaustive synthesis of criteria used to assess the performance of organizations. The results of this analysis revealed three basic dimensions underlying the judgments of respondents. The first dimension is organizational focus, which distinguishes organizations that have an internal emphasis on the development of people from those that have an external focus on the development of the organization. The second dimension is organizational structure, which distinguishes between organizations that have an emphasis on stability and control from those that have an emphasis on flexibility and innovation. The third dimension is organizational means and ends, which distinguish between organizations that emphasize processes such as planning and establishing goals from those that emphasize resulting outcomes such as productivity and efficiency.

In a section titled “Positioning Diversity Leadership in Higher Education,” Perry copies almost every sentence from one of several other papers. In no case does she credit the actual source:

Finally, in a section on organizational culture, Perry duplicates language from a variety of other authors:

Perry presented her paper as “qualitative” research because she chatted with what appear to be ten members of her colleagues at the University of Virginia who sat on the faculty-retention taskforce and counted their musings as “data.” But when the paper gets to this section, where plagiarism wasn’t possible, Perry includes the following jumbled passage that includes a glaring spelling error:

The positionality of the participants informed the perspective on the origins of the commission. /in response to the needs of the varios [sic] stakeholders within the university, the commission addressed issues of diversity on the faculty, undergraduate, graduate, and university level.

The section of original text suggests that her plagiarism could be used to mask glaring academic deficiencies. Moreover, Perry in her references section fails to list some of the papers that she cites parenthetically in the body of the dissertation—a telltale sign that she had simply copied those citations from somewhere else. Legitimate academic inquiry would not excuse such shoddy work.

Perry and UCLA did not return requests for comment.

Entrepreneur Mark Cuban recently argued that DEI policies don’t necessarily lower an organization’s expectations. But for Harvard, UVA, and UCLA Medical School—where Perry earned her master’s, Ph.D., and DEI position, respectively—this is evidently not the case. These institutions have dramatically lowered expectations for favored groups and pushed a cohort of “scholars” through the system without enforcing basic standards of academic integrity.

Ultimately, Natalie Perry is to blame for her misconduct. But these institutions of higher learning share some fault for permitting such shoddiness to stand unchallenged.

==

These are the same people who want to lecture us how much more morally enlightened they are than we are.

Jo March from Little Women (2019) makes me feel aromantic feelings: a manifesto

Okay, basics out of the way-- Jo lives in a time where she is expected to get married and explicitly expresses that she likely never will and has no desire to.

Her character explores ideas about family and growing up and the idea that the past/childhood can't be clung to-- as Beth puts it, "It's like the tide going out. It goes out slowly, but it can't be stopped." In context, she's specifically talking about her impending death, but it's not too much of a stretch to apply it to Jo's sense that "childhood is over," a sentiment that she expresses at Meg's wedding.

Marriage is something that seems to weigh heavily on Jo's mind throughout the movie-- not only is she shown to be supremely disinterested in it for herself, but she also expresses multiple times that she also dreads the marriage of her sisters, viewing it as having them "stolen away" from her. Multiple times in the movie, when she expresses this sentiment, the response she gets is that she will understand when she falls in love, herself. It goes without saying that that is something aromantic people are told a lot-- that they will understand when they meet the right person-- but what resonates with me about this is something else: in these scenes, Jo is expressing her distress, but those who care about her have no way to understand the source of her distress, and no real way to comfort her, because in the framework of their society, there are very few respectable alternatives to marriage.

To me, the scene that highlights this most strongly is the scene where Jo tries to talk Meg out of her marriage. The quote that gets remembered from this scene is Meg's line, "just because my dreams are different than yours doesn't mean they're unimportant." Which is true, and a deeply powerful thing for Meg to get to say, especially given that she's marrying a poor man for love after she's had it impressed on her that she needed to marry well to care for her family.

But that line is heartbreaking from Jo's point of view. Because while she is certainly being a bit of a dick about her sister's future husband, this scene is a last-ditch effort to explain to her family that she feels abandoned and lost. To me, it kind of parallels Laurie's confession later-- Jo wants, more than anything, to stay with her sisters, and she knows that it's not a possibility the way she wants it to be. In the last moment, she confesses this, knowing what Meg's answer will be, knowing that Meg loves her but that they see their futures differently and there is no way around that.

Meg refuses her, explicitly saying that what she wants is to build her life with her new husband. And that's right for her to say, and I very much doubt Jo expected her to say anything else. But Meg says "childhood was going to end eventually. And what a happy end," oblivious to the fact that for Jo, it isn't a happy end at all, and furthermore there is no clear happy ending in sight for her.

I think there is a lot to be said about the fear of losing one's childhood and having to step into adulthood. But I really think there is more going on than that, here. When Laurie confesses to Jo, she tells him that she doesn't think she will ever marry. But she knows that her sisters will, and that Laurie will. It's not just that childhood is ending; it's that as a child, the roles that society expects of her are those of a sister, daughter, and friend, and these are roles she takes on naturally and happily. But for her, stepping into adulthood means new social roles that she can't fill.

She spells this out very clearly when Laurie confesses to her. She can't see herself as a wife, or as a mistress of the house, or in love with Laurie the way a wife should be. Laurie points out that Jo has avoided dealing with his feelings for her for years, and I think the reason for this is the same reason she dreaded Meg's wedding. To Jo, marriage is the reason she loses Meg and Amy, and it is also the reason she can't maintain her position as Laurie's closest companion.

I know that some people probably read Jo's letter to Laurie agreeing to marry him as a feelings realization, or else her settling for a husband that she likes, if not loves, but given her speech about feeling lonely, I read it more as Jo's realizing that if she wants to keep the role she has in Laurie's life, the only way to do it would be to become his wife, or else someone else will. In other words, even though Jo explicitly loathes the idea of marriage, the only way she can see to maintain the closeness that she wants is through marriage.

Laurie says of course she will marry-- she loves too deeply not to. Her mother says that just because she wants to be loved by Laurie isn't the same thing as her loving him. These comments, to me, combine to represent a hurtful trap that nonromantic people are often hit with: Jo is both "too loving" not to eventually find someone she wants to marry, but also, the love she has for Laurie is "not loving enough," since she doesn't want to marry him.

Of course, Jo does get her happy ending adulthood in the form of the school she starts up, with her family ultimately remaining close to her, as well as her own marriage which may or may not have been a fabrication for her publisher. When the world doesn't provide a path for her to follow, she's able to make her own, and of course I think that speaks to all women, straight or otherwise. But those particular elements will always ring a very strong aromantic/asexual bell for me, and I just wanted to talk about that for a while, thanks for reading all this bye.

WITH YOU [6] HELICOPTER BOY

Summary: Glenn is finally back and he brings another person to the camp. The group faces another problem.

Warnings: idk, language probably

Song: Silly Girl chloe moriondo

DAYLIGHT ON WATTPAD

The first thing they heard was the loudest car alarm that you could think of. It was echoing through the mountains, and in a second Dale was on his feet - like everyone else- on top of his RV. He had his binoculars up and was looking around the area.

"Talk to me, Dale." said Shane.

"Nothing yet." he said, still looking around.

They were all prepared to fight in case someone wanted to harm them. It was difficult to determine the direction and source of the noise due to the mountains.

"Is it them? Are they back?"

"I'll be damned." Dale smiled lightly.

"What is it?" asked Amy who was very nervous.

"Stolen car is my guess," Dale replied.

Before Charlie had a chance to say something, Glenn pulled up in a red sports car. He had a big grin on his face and his posture said that he was relaxed. The car looked like one that Charlie was being driven in by all those guys she was dating. He looked excited, not like a person who was stuck and surrounded just hours ago.

"You need a ride, baby?" those were the first words she heard as an Asian boy left his car.

"Silly." she smiled and hugged him.

"Told you I will be back. And you have to say that it's the coolest way to come back," he said and put an arm around her shoulder.

"Holy crap, turn that damn thing off!" Dale shouted in annoyance.

"I don't know how!" Glenn said.

"Pop the hood please," said Shane, coming to the car.

"My sister Andrea..." Amy almost tackled Glenn.

"Pop the damn hood, please?" Shane said through gritted teeth. "Pop the damn hood please!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah! Okay!" Glen was trying to shout over Amy while sitting in the car to do what Shane wanted.

"Is she okay? Is she alright?" Amy asked.

"YES." screamed an Asian boy, who couldn't bear the tension. "Yeah, she's okay! She's okay."

"Is she coming back?"Amy asked him another question.

"Yes!" he nodded.

"Why isn't she with you? Where is she? She's okay?"

"Yes!" was all he said to her yet another question.

"Amy, just give him space to breathe." Lori interrupted. "Andrea will be back."

"Yeah, she's fine," Glenn said with a smile that faded from his lips. "Everybody is. Well, Merle not so much."

Charlie furrowed her eyebrows, but her friend just gave her a sign that he would tell her everything later.

"Are you crazy driving this wailing bastard up here? You trying to draw every walker for miles?" Shane said nervously, leaning on the opened mask of the car.

"I think we're okay," said Dale.

"You call being stupid okay?" Shane furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at the older man.

"Well, the alarm was echoing all over those hills. Hard to point the source," he said and when he saw angry eyes of a cop on him, he added. "I'm not arguing, I'm just saying." Then he turned to Glenn and furrowed his eyebrows. "It wouldn't hurt you to just think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?"

"Sorry." he nodded his head with remorse, but as soon as he turned to look at Charlie he smiled, excitement pouring through the pores of his skin."Got a cool car."

She chuckled, happy that he found another bright side to the end of the world.

Van pulled up just a second later. More people leaving a car and hugging with their loved ones. It was a good sight, but Charlie saw how Lori was hugging Carl closer to her. The boy was crying, clearly sad that it's not his dad that is back.

"Amy!"

"Andrea!"

"Oh thank God," Charlie whispered looking up, so Glenn shoved her in the arm with a smile.

"You're a welcome sight." smiled Dale. "I thought we'd lost you folks for sure."

"We left him on a roof. Merle." said quietly, Glenn. "The new guy handcuffed him there because he was gonna put us all in danger," explained Asian.

"New guy?"

"How'd you all get out of there anyway?" asked Shane.

"New guy," repeated Glenn. "He got us out."

"New guy?" Dale asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"Yeah." Morales replied."Crazy vato just got into town. Hey! Helicopter Boy, come say hello!" he yelled to someone who was still near a van and looked at Shane. "He's a cop, like you."

Suddenly, Carl ran past her and straight into the arms of the new guy. All they could hear were sobs and words of love. Charlie's heart swelled as she watched the man kneel with his son in his arms, holding him tightly. Lori seemed shocked and slowly made her way over to her husband, embracing him. They all cried tears of joy together. Meanwhile, Shane stood there looking lost and attempting to conceal his emotions. He appeared devastated and bewildered, struggling to believe what he was seeing. However, when Lori's husband looked at him, he smiled.

As everyone huddled around the fire, Rick shared his incredible story. It was hard to believe that someone could endure so much, waking up alone in a hospital bed with no knowledge of what was happening outside. His voice trembled with confusion, but his determination to find his family never wavered. The new guy seemed kind-hearted with gentle features and was quite handsome and well-built - not as much as Shane, but still impressive. Lori was incredibly lucky to have him by her side.

Suddenly, a crackling sound interrupted her thoughts. Ed Peletier had just thrown another log onto the fire, and Shane watched with anger as sparks flew into the night sky.

"Hey, Ed." he said, trying to be calm."You wanna rethink that log?"

"It's cold man." he just shrugged.

"Cold doesn't change the rules, does it?"

Rick was confused about the whole thing and looked at his wife."Rules?"

"Keep our fires low, just embers, so we can't be seen from a distance, right?" Shane got up to kind of show off, making it clear that he's the leader, he's the boss.

"I said it's cold. Why don't you mind your own business for once?" Ed said back, annoyed.

"Sure you wanna have this conversation, man?"

"Go on. Pull the damn thing out, go on." Ed mumbled under his nose.

When two men were fighting, Carol walked up to the fire and took out the log from it. When she placed it on the ground, Shane stepped on it to prevent the flame from spreading. Then he crouched next to a mother and her daughter.

"Hey Carol, Sophia how are y'all this evening?" he asked kindly, not to scare any of them.

"Fine." Carol answered quietly."Just fine."

"Okay."

"Sorry about the fire," she said so quickly it was almost a whisper.

"No, no." Shane said abruptly."No apology needed. Y'all have a good night, okay?" he said and as he was getting up he added. "I appreciate the cooperation."

When everyone was seated back in their places and silence became overwhelming, Dale decided to ask the crucial question. "Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind."

Daryl was still out on a hunt. He left again, soon after they came back from looking for berries and was gone till now. It was not unusual for the hunter to spend a night in the woods, so his absence went unnoticed. However, today everyone seemed relieved that Daryl was gone because that gave them time to come up with a plan, they could choose a poor person, who would break the news to him.

"I'll tell him." said T-Dog. "I dropped the key. It's on me."

"I cuffed him. That makes it mine." said Rick, while caressing hair of Carl, who was laying on his legs.

"Guys, it's not a competition." interrupted them Glenn. "I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy."

"I did what I did." T-Dog shrugged. "Hell if I'm gonna hide it from him." he added.

"We could lie." proposed Amy.

And that would be the best option. They would make up a story, that wouldn't make Daryl as angry as the truth would make him, and everyone would be just fine.

But...

Charlie thought about her brothers. If she was in a place like Daryl, she would like to know what really happened. Because that would give her hope. Hope that she will see them again, talk to them again, just be with them. Or confirm that they are dead. Charlie would give everything to know where were her brothers.

"Or tell the truth," she said right after Amy.

"Yeah. Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd gotten us killed." said Andrea and looked at Lori. "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it's nobody's fault but Merle's," she added, sure of her opinion of course.

"And that's what we tell Daryl?" asked Dale skeptically. "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?" he looked at everyone's faces. He sighed and looked into the fire. "Word to the wise, we're going to have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

"I was scared and I ran," said T-Dog. "I'm not ashamed of it."

"We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea asked him.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. The staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that. Not that chain. Not that padlock." he said. "My point: Dixon's alive. He's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us."

Charlie's heart fluttered with gratitude as she was lying in the tent, knowing that Glenn was back. The relief washed over her, knowing he was safe. Thoughts swirled in her mind about the newcomer, Rick Grimes, and what his presence might mean for their group. Would he bring trouble or much-needed assistance? It was already clear that his presence bothered Shane, who was an alpha in this camp - and had an affair with Rick's wife. His arrival might disrupt the delicate dynamics within the camp. Would he challenge their leadership? Bring conflicts they couldn't afford? Her mind raced with scenarios, each one more unsettling than the last. But those thoughts faded into the background as she heard the familiar footsteps of her friend Glenn entering the tent. She couldn't see him, only his dark silhouette in the darkness.

"Thank God, I'm here," he whispered, knowing she was awake.

"Yeah. I was worried," she answered. "I thought you died and I will never see you again," Charlie confessed.

Glenn turned in his sleeping bag, so they were facing each other. "I thought it was my last day today," he said. "I thought about you. I almost cried at the thought that Merle Dixon would be the last thing I see."

She chuckled.

"And then I saw this guy dressed in a uniform with a cowboy hat. Riding a horse through Atlanta. Probably every Walker in the city running after him. We saw him getting stuck in a trunk." he said. "I really didn't think much about helping him. I just did."

"You really are a hero Glenn," she said. "You sure you were pizza boy before? Not a Batman or something?"

He rolled his eyes, even though she couldn't see it, but he knew she knew he did it.

Silence fell between them. Both of them breathing calmly.

"What do you think, how will Daryl react?"

Charlie sighed. "I don't know," she said. "We don't know how we should even tell him that. We don't know who should do it. We know nothing."

This time Glen sighed.

"I feel sorry for him. He seems like a good guy."

"Daryl Dixon?"

"Yeah," Charlie said. "He helped me when you were gone. He has good eyes."

"You're like friends now?" asked Glenn.

"I'm not really sure he had any friends. I think Merle is the only one he has ever had." she shared her thoughts with her friend. "That makes this situation even more sad."

Glenn sat up a little, leaning on his elbows.

"You really are worried about Daryl." he more stated than asked.

"I also have brothers...well, had brothers," she said. "We were close like that, so I know what he might feel."

Rhee laid back.

"Then maybe you should tell him," he said before turning his back to her. "Night, Charlie."

"Mmm." She nodded and soon fell asleep.

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

very kindly tagged by @freneticfloetry and @three-drink-amy. thanks, friends!!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

20! Three of those are drabble compilations, how I keep my 100-word drabbles organized for different fandoms, but I'm counting them 😂

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

35,104. I don't know how to write long lmao.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Most of my fics (15 of them to be exact, as well as the main longer fic I'm writing atm) are for Outlander, but I've written for a total of 5 fandoms, and hop between them at different times. In addition to Outlander, I have fics/drabbles for The Song of Achilles, The Last Binding Trilogy, 911, and 911: Lone Star.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

To Heart and Home (Outlander, multichap, canon divergent) - by farrrrr, which makes sense, as it's my only multichap

Foundations (Outlander, one shot, canon compliant)

return my fists to fingers (The Last Binding, one shot, canon compliant)(i need more of yall to read these books and write fic for them. i need it)

Sunlight (The Song of Achilles, one shot, canon compliant)

Grievances Raised (Outlander, one shot, modern au)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! I don't post often enough that I get an overwhelming amount of comments or anything, so it's not a huge burden to reply to them all. I just am continually baffled by people reading what I write, it genuinely blows my mind.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

hmmmmmm. a lot of what I write is pretty angsty, but I love finding and weaving out the thread of hope that lives in those broken places. That said, does heaven have enough angels yet is pretty rough. It's a canon compliant little snippet from the pov of a stillborn infant so like...... she's sad. there's still hope tho! always still hope.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

ooo probably the fluffiest happy fic I have is All the Colors in the Rainbow! It ends with all the Frasers going off to Pride, and it makes me hella happy.

The happiest fic story-wise is probably To Heart and Home, just because it fixes The Main Fuckening that happens in Outlander and brings that family back together earlier.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

*knocks on wood* i haven't yet!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I don't, I'm not brave enough. The closest I came to it was with Grievances Raised, wherein Claire pegs the brains out of her husband, but I only wrote the aftermath.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven't done one yet!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of 🤞🏻

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't think so? I feel like I remember someone asking me to translate To Heart and Home a few years ago, but I don't know if anything ever came of it.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't! I feel like I would be the worst co-writer lol, I am farrrr too slow.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

to write? idk, probably Jamie and Claire? I just feel like I know them, inside and out. I don't have to look for their voices, they're right there.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

oh god, so many outlander ones lmao.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I am really good at matching the tone of the source material! Once I get the voice of the characters/narration/general story style, I feel like I can reproduce the general vibes of canon. I think that's why I sometimes have an easier time with writing fic from stories in the form of books - there's a written tone I can internalize. And consequently, why I've had a harder time with nailing a voice for 911 or Lone Star, even though I do want to eventually write fic for those shows.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue and plot! I write Vibes™, but I don't know how to write actual Stories. I would love to be that writer who could crank out a whole story with a plot and shit, because I love that type of fic with my whole self, but my brain just functions in vibes.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I am a Coward about it. I've written a fair amount of Gàidhlig into my Outlander fics, especially in To Heart and Home, and honestly I think I've done a pretty good job with it. I spent a lot of time researching the language, up to and including researching grammar structures and taking duolingo lessons at the beginning of the pandemic for a few months. I've forgotten most of it now though, despite duolingo being extremely persistent with its reminders lmao.

However.

If I were to write for 911 and Lone Star like I would like to, I would like to include some Spanish into those stories (especially with Lone Star), and I just don't think I would do it justice. I failed Spanish miserably in high school, and haven't taken a stab at it since. If I include it I want to do it well and respectfully, ya know? I'm bilingual (just not with Spanish lol) and an interpreter, and I think that has brought with it a better understanding of just how complicated language is, and how easy it is to fuck it up when you don't know what you're doing. And as a very white person, I also don't want to act like I know fuck-all about a non-white language and culture when I don't.

Sooooo, I'm a coward about it atm. Hoping to get better eventually though!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Outlander! Never ever thought I would write fic, didn't think I was "allowed." Hadn't ever written anything creatively before (in english at least), so it was a big jump for me. this makes it sound like english is my second language, when really it's just that the first time that anyone made me write creatively was in my deaf lit class

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh god this changes all the time. At the moment I've feeling very tender towards into the empty parts of me. It's a really tragic part of canon, but just gorgeous character potential. I loved how gentle this turned out, how John and Claire had a moment of healing in the middle of their tragedy.

But also I think that the fic I'm writing right now is gonna turn out to be my favorite ❤ once I get the writing juices flowing again for one last section 🤞🏻

I'm not sure who all has done this already, but no pressure tagging @liminalmemories21, @flyinghome-againstthewind, @theawkwardterrier, @homerforsure, @paperstorm

Theory on Feuilly being Petit Gervais because I promised it and it's been in my head as an idea for so long

Alright so here's my masterpiece

Looking at some timelines online, I found the year when Jean Valjean was released from prison. That’s October 1815. Within that year he meets Petit Gervais and steals his piece of forty sous. Petit Gervais is said by Victor Hugo to be “about ten years of age”(keep that in mind). His age isn’t exactly known, but based on the fact that we only know Petit Gervais looks like he’s 10, he could be a bit younger - say 7-10 years old, maybe even 6 years old, even if it is unlikely.

It is said in said website that Marius was born in 1810 and met les amis in roughly about 1828-1830. That would make him 18-20 years old at the time. That does not mean les amis couldn’t have been a bit older. Feuilly could have been born a bit earlier, say 1808-1806? That would make him about 20-24 years old at the time.

In 1815 aka the time when Petit Gervais was introduced, Feuilly would have been 7-6 years old.

Time skip to barricade day. It’s 1832. Feuilly dies along with the rest of les amis, being about 22-26 years old.

To make it simpler, here’s some timeline thingies (i rly don't know what to call them. Assumptions? Idk and to be honest that's nOT THE POINT):

Born 1806, met Jean Valjean in 1815 (9 y/o), met Marius in 1829 (23 y/o), died in 1832 (26 y/o). Doesn’t sound right for him to die at 26 to me. Let’s alter it then.

Born 1807, met Valjean at 1815 (8 y/o), met Marius in 1829 (22 y/o), died in 1832 (25 y/o)

It seems right. He’s not too young to look 10 years old in 1815 when meeting Valjean. He’s not too old when he meets Marius for the first time, or when his death date arrives.

It’s not impossible age wise. Character wise?

If you think about it, Feuilly is said to have lost his parents at a young age. Who says he couldn’t have been Savoyard?

My take? Petit Gervais spent his early life in the Savoy region. When his mother died, say when he was about 5-6 years old, he left to travel northwest in order to make a better life for himself. He stays in a few places, he meets Jean Valjean during that period, his money gets stolen. Heartbroken, he's off to Paris. After living there for a while (maybe as a gamin?) he gets a job as a fan maker.

I have zero knowledge on the evolution of languages, but I think ‘feuilly’ translated in English means ‘leafy’. After doing some search, I found out that fans were mostly made of paper at the time. It’s therefore possible that the name ‘Feuilly’ was a nickname given to Petit Gervais by his peers in Paris after his newly found occupation.

The fact that Valjean stole his money would also explain his preoccupation with justice. Think of it as a villain origin story or something idk. It could also be one of the reasons he educated himself on reading, writing, reading history and later on joining les amis (hot take I know)

So to sum up, it's not exactly 100% proven that Feuilly is Petit Gervais, but it is highly possible. So I'm just going to assume they're the same person and you can't do anything about it (like have you ever seen them in the same room? Don't think so)

The end

Were my sources trustworthy? Probably not

Am I still going to take pride in this? Abso-fucking-lutely

Sources:

The brick

Timelines website

Article about fans on Wikipedia, of all websites

I think that's everything??

Here's an accurate depiction of my current state

Thank you all for taking the time to read my crap :)

20 Questions for fic writers

Thank you for the tag @three-drink-amy @inexplicablymine @myheartalivewrites and @cha-melodius

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

27, which seems somewhat meagre compared to many others!

2. What’s your AO3 total word count?

679,928

3. What fandoms do you write for?

RWRB and Star Wars

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

RWRB Screw Your Courage to the Sticking Place (and forget macbeth is a fucking tragedy)

Star Wars Smoking Hot

Star Wars Stars and Oceans

RWRB Blooming Lovely

Star Wars The Set-Up

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! I never delete comments from my inbox as it always perks up my self-esteem if I'm flagging. So often though I literally don't have words to reply so it's just 'thank you for reading and commenting!' or ❤❤❤

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Stars and Oceans. Classic post-Order 66 Star Wars featuring a Codywan (fem!Obi) storyline so it's ... pretty bleak. BUT it is also part 1, so part 2 is much less angsty.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Blooming Lovely. Link below.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No? I've had one where someone commented ''I wish you hadn't done xyz" which threw me a bit bc ... dude. The back button's right there.

Oh, tell a lie, I once had someone tell me my female OC was too much of a feminist and they didn't like that. It didn't feel particularly insulting though.

9. Do you write smut, if so what kind?

I love writing smut, and I feel like I have improved so much in recent years. I like most kinds, but not hate-sex or cheating. Don't like reading it and don't think I could write it.

10. Do you write crossovers? If so, what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Hmm, yes and no. I like taking characters out of one universe and transplanting them into another. I have two of these on the go at the moment; a Firstprince Discovery of Witches AU and a Codywan His Dark Materials. But I don't cross the characters over, so Henry and Alex won't be running into Matthew and Diana.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Once, had a fic cross-posted without my permission and I wasn't happy. Thankfully it was taken down immediately once I contacted the person who'd done it. I think they thought they were being nice?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

@inexplicablymine baby, current WIP, Firstprince, and y'all are NOT ready.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I have regular obsessions with ships! I love, and always will, Firstprince and Codywan. But I'm currently eyeball deep in a Buddie rabbit-hole and absolutely head-over-heels for some Wheel of Time ships too so I don't know if I could ever choose one favourite.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Probably one of my Star Wars ones - there's a Sithywan fic that I have the bare bones of a plot for but so far it feels flimsy to me.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and inner monologues of characters. I like to think I'm good at landing characterisations.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Ad-libbing or ad-hoc writing I struggle with but also conversely plotting? I can have these amazing ideas that usually start with dialogue between two characters and then can't always follow through in creating a narrative around that scene.

Also sometimes I think I rely on a Deus Ex Machina too often.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'll normally try to just add in the odd word if canon, 'mijo', etc. I try to avoid long sentences unless it's a fictional language anyway (Mando'a) or it can't be avoided. Then I very guiltily use Google translate. For slang I do try and research multiple sources rather than Google though.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Justice League, the DC Animated version which was a very good cartoon actually.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

It probably has to be Blooming Lovely. It's not often I write something totally joyful and angst-free so it felt like an achievement!

tagging @tintagel-or-cockleshells @dumbpeachjuice @cricketnationrise @happiness-of-the-pursuit

are there any posts giving a rundown of the vamp au and what it’s about? also are there any fics of it that you’ve written?

Not particularly!! Sorry >< but the premise is pretty simple!!!! :

The vampire au is an episodic sitcom following Sonic, Amy, and Tails and their usual encounters with Eggman and whatever else those goons happen to get into. Sonic can (magical girl) transform into a nighttime alter ego who calls himself Hoax.

Additional stuff!:

Hoax tends to be a bit more wild and reckless, free of his daytime restraints (the occasional crime)

Shadow comes into this due to Hoax. He's a regular blood donor due to being gifted very fast bodily regeneration. Hoax has been stealing shadows blood bags from the donation centers as often as he can because he cant resist the taste it has. Shadow hates vampires more than anything, he wants them all dead, so he's livid after finding out it's being stolen. Shadow eventually settles on a deal that Hoax will stop stealing the bags if he can get it directly from the source. That kickstarts their dynamic

They also all live on Angel Island!! No one knows what the Chaos or Master Emerald is because it's been lost to the city development of the island. Eggman is chasing after powerful energy readings though...

Also I am not a writer!!! I'm a silly visuals boy and I am very bad at writing and it is not fun to me personally!!!!

this is blood is not yours nor the life it gives

guys please ask me about my ocs arent they neat

(ps i worked really hard on this and rarely do colored pieces please reblog if you like it :,)))

hey @/just-just-gyllenhaal! you blocked me before i could share my answer on your post “calling me out” for simply adding credits on a photo you shared that was originally posted by a photographer who asked for her photos not to be stolen and/or posted without credits. as a content creator myself, it’s hard to wrap my head around the idea that crediting someone is a bad thing, so let’s clear things up a little!

this has gotten quite long so... long story short, don’t repost & don’t steal & always credit original creators! 😊

i think it’s clear that, as a content creator, i value the importance of crediting the original posters as much as possible. whether it’s for gifs, photos, a fic or even the ideas i share with my friends, i try to credit everything i can. i still credit the creator of a divider i have used for years and on every single of my fics. i used to get my gifs for my fics out of google image until i realized how harmful it is to creators. after that, i learned and improved myself and i sourced my content respectfully. i credit the original creators even if they deactivated or it took me tons of redirects to find the original poster (i even went back and added the credits to old fanfics of mine as soon as i found out who made the gifs!). i also make sure to use MY OWN content before everything else. i have invested hours into creating fuzzy & blurry gifs so i can use them and share them on here! reposters and people who steal content are absolutely everywhere and impossible to control. they’re on tumblr, twitter, instagram, pinterest. you name it, you’ll find stolen content at the most random places. i have had my gifs stolen and reposted too, it’s awful. i managed to get some of them taken down, but it’s a struggle to open social media and just hope someone did not take the gifs i took hours to create and post them without credits, or even worse, claim it as their own.

 the website you used is a gold mine, so much is uploaded there and i’m sure i’m not the only one who enjoys seeing old & new photos you get from iheartjakemedia. it’s always cool to see photos of jake in the tag. well, was cool, since i’m blocked now, but details. the website did NOT credit the original owner which is bad. however, the photo has circulated on twitter, instagram AND tumblr where people have given proper credits to amy kaplan by tagging her, writing her username or crediting her in text form. it is possible you did not see the original photo! in that case, i don’t see how being informed of the original creator was such an awful action on my part. my caption was also very respectful, i only repeated the photographer’s desire to not have her content posted without credits.

there are not many members of the jake fandom on tumblr, it’s nice to respect each other and it’s sad i won’t be able to share the archives you post and the updates to my blog and help them circulate around. i have appreciated your work, you’ve been digging in some very old photo albums and you have shared photos a lot of us have never seen. also, you have posted photos on which you asked not to have them reposted since you said they were yours. with that piece of information, i can only assume you understand the importance of crediting original creators (... although you have stolen people’s content and blocked them for rightfully calling such a behaviour out too but i won’t get into that).

i was respectful and simply shared the credits of a photo which is a habit a lot of people should learn so we can make sure to always credit the original creators when it’s possible. if you believe i was at fault for crediting the photographer, then that’s how you see things. i will keep on crediting original content creators and hopefully you will too!

here are some screenshots to verify my claims!

this is the tweet by the original photographer! amy kaplan wrote: “Don’t steal my photo, K thanks”.

you told me to “check before accusing people” so i am giving you the same advice so you can check before stealing people’s content. maybe it was a mistake, maybe it was not. either way, i can see you were not happy that i simply added the credits without accusation or any mean intention.

you can also find this photo on her instagram.

like i said, it’s sad that i won’t be able to enjoy and reblog your posts which i have done a lot ever since i have learned about the existence of your blog. as a long time tumblr user and, again, a content creator, i am aware of the importance of reblogs and showing support to other users by reblogging their posts. i’m sorry if i post more of your content through queued photosets, they were queued prior to being blocked by you.

alright that’s it for me, i hope you have a nice day! <3

Favorite docudrama Anne(s)? 👑

I honestly like Amy James Kelly's best, not re: acting (althought I do think she's a very talented actress) necessarily, but mainly because all the ones before this have been so dry? It's literally just them reciting primary source quotes. Which yes, is 'accurate', but not particularly flavorful when you don't add creatively imagined context. We've had creative visuals but not dialogue, really.

And the previous big-production ones, besides TSF (I mean, as far as I watched, I'm mainly guessing not insofar as Henry was literally faceless and voiceless), and Lucy Worsley's (and I liked how Claire Cooper played her, but...Anne felt incidental, not purposeful) in the past decade+ have all focused on sex to some degree?

But I think the difference with BSR was Anne as the subject, not object, of sexual desire. And we're shown, more than told, the stages, that she says no, when she says yes. We see her looking in the mirror at herself whilst wearing the infamous nightgown, we see her talk to the camera during sex, we see before all this, that she desires, too, in the rebuttal to you are your voyeur is the 'OK, they're looking at me. But I'm looking at them.” The act of deciding to look, of deciding that the world is not defined by how people see me, but how I see them":

And, worst of all, she says:

That's probably the crux of how this narrative subverts expectations, and left many sour. We know how it ends, but "'whores' must be punished" is generally the maxim that wins the day. When it comes to AB, generally it's taken to the extreme of 'whores' must be punished, every moment. They don't get to experience joy or pleasure or laughter, much less love or affection. When they do, it often angers the audience, who find this 'unfair'.

It's a moralizing drudge, and it's always a mistake, but when it comes to Anne, it's especially so ... it's only by experiencing the rich variance of her life that the viewer can appreciate the tragedy of her story; that she had a full life, achieved more than most people could've dreamt, and that it was all stolen from her. (If I was a fool, or you, a thief? It all fell down...)

★  SB:  We know what that led to. But your play, despite what happened to Anne, does end on a curiously hopeful note.

Brenton:  Yes.  It’s as though she’s saying, “Over to you out there, here’s the mess.  How are you doing with the mess?  Bye bye!”

SB:   “I had fun…fun, despite it all!”

Brenton: Oddly, that’s what she’s saying here isn’t she? She blows everyone a kiss. And there we are […]   ★

Taste of Strawberries, chap. 32

Hayffie Post-mockingjay Multi-chapter, Rated M Chapter 32 Your hand slipped into mine ”Haymitch? Haymitch? Haymitch?” Her voice reached through his troubled dreams. Haymitch grunted, breathing in the sweet smell of her soap. A lock of hair tickled his neck when she dropped a kiss to his cheek. “Haymitch, wake up.” Still in the No man’s land between sleep and waking he brushed his fingers against the mattress through the rails of the crib but the little hand he’d been holding, Amy’s or Ian’s, wasn’t there and he scooted up, alarmed. ”It’s OK,” Effie was quick to reassure him. “I have them here.” He looked behind her and saw the child safety seats on the floor. The twins, all dressed up, lay inside, sucking contently on their pacifiers. He collapsed back down on the couch, face in the pillow, arms buried underneath it. “No, no, no,” said Effie with a smile. “Don’t go back to sleep.” She was all dolled up in a dress he hadn’t seen before. Since the pregnancy she still had a few pounds to spare – pounds that only flattered her, Haymitch could have said – so most of her old dresses didn’t fit just yet. Either way, ever since they came home from the hospital she wore mostly sweatpants and some of his less shabby shirts anyway. But this one, olive green with a sweetheart neckline that tied into a bow at her bosom and silver patterns on the skirt, hugged her curves in a fucking spectacular way. He peered at her through tousles of dirty blonde hair. “Someplace you need to be?” “Yes,” said Effie. “We do.” “Appointment?” “Only with the outside world.” Haymitch grunted and turned his face to the back of the couch as if she’d tried to give him a spoonful of medicine. “Hell no. They’re only three weeks old, Eff.” “Yes, and we’ve hardly set a foot outside the door since we brought them home. It’s a gorgeous day! A little sunshine will do us all some good.”

“Nope.” The couch dipped when she sat down. She gave his shoulder a soft squeeze. “Haymitch. No one is going to hurt them. And we can’t stay cooped up in here forever.” “I can.” He could almost hear her smile. “How’re you even gonna breastfeed in that thing?” “Why, it’s a maternity dress of course. I’ll just inch it down on one side. Piece of cake, as you would say.” Haymitch rolled his eyes. “Leave it to the Capitol to make cocktail dresses for nursing.” “Get up now,” she said and clapped his shoulder. “I know a place I think they will like.” xXx It was earlier than he thought. You could tell just by the lack of people up and about. He’d always preferred mornings. Especially here. Especially now. They were breathers for outcasts like them. The cab rolled up to the golden gates of a place that read “The Fountains of Youth” in arched letters above the entrance. A park by the look of it, though very different from Cupid’s Garden. “You alright?” Effie asked when he winced, lifting Ian out of the car. “Yeah,” he said and set down his heavy load. He rubbed the small of his back and arched backwards with a painful grunt. “I can take both of them,” she said but he waved off her concerns. “I’ll manage.” He lifted Ian up and together they followed the white brick road into this peculiar-looking park under a clear, blue sky. There were hardly any trees and unlike the ones in Cupid’s Garden these were leaf-less with trunks and branches the color of fresh milk. Like ghost trees on a cemetery. Of course, in a cemetery the trees weren’t adorned with wind chimes and shards of mirror glass, reflecting the morning light. The tinkles moved with the wind, reminding him of stolen moments on the Training Center roof. Intermingled with the sound of running water it was a quiet place, oddly enough. Something you didn’t get a lot of around here. He’d seen fountains before but none so magnificent. Water trickled and poured and splashed from a dozen different sources. Through dragon mouths and gargoyles and horses with wings. Jets of water shot for the sky or showered stockily-built stone men, curvy women and chubby children with flowers in their hair. The white brick road turned left and right, curled and met up like a labyrinth with no hedges. There were even topiary animals. Bunnies and panthers and elephants. Even giraffes. “Very popular among children,” Effie smiled. They’d walked for less than ten minutes before Haymitch set Ian down again. “OK, time-out.” He heaved a sigh, hands on his knees. “That bloody couch.” “Language.” Haymitch threw her a surly glance. “Since when’s ‘bloody’ a bad word?” Ian had spitted out his pacifier. Haymitch crouched before him and touched his cheek. “How you doin’ kid?” Ian yawned and smacked his lips. He placed his hand against his mouth and out, like blowing a kiss. “He wants you, Eff.” They found a bench in the shade. He helped her with the gold-threaded shawl as she settled Ian to her breast, without anything showing. “There you go, my precious darling,” she said and kissed the baby’s hand, clasped in hers. “My sweet boy. Mama’s jewel.” A smile quirked Haymitch’s lips. Effie never ran out of pet names for their children. He didn’t know anyone who loved as hard as Effie did. To hear her tell it there wasn’t anything like them in the history of the world. Amy whined and arched backwards in the child safety seat, as if jealous by her mother’s words. Haymitch peeked inside just as the pacifier dropped from her mouth. “Go to sleep, sleepy-head.” Amy squeaked in protest. Usually after a feeding she fell into a slumber but now she wriggled like a worm in hot ashes, not happy at all about being belted down. “Alright. Come here, little ‘un.” He clicked her loose and carefully lifted her out. She fussed and flailed about, determined to stay up, but he rested her against the side of his chest, head on his shoulder. “I know you’re tired. You know you’re tired. Stop resisting, sweetheart.” He dropped a butterfly kiss to her head, her temple and then back again; careful so as not to scratch the soft, tender skin. It didn’t take long before she settled in, doing nothing but quietly nibble on Haymitch’s shirt. He rocked her the way she liked it. She weighed like nothing. None of them did. With one last kiss, for now anyway, he helped her back into the child safety seat. Her eyelids fluttered open, suspiciously, but then they fell together and she was out, like a rock. Wouldn’t last very long but he took what he could get. He stretched back, arms out. Arched his head to the sides and spotted the red umbrellas of a street cart, further up the road. He couldn’t quite tell what kind, not from this distance but his money would be on pastries. “You want something, Eff?” She looked to where he nodded and her face brightened. “Yes! A Snoball, if they have any.” He rose. He hated coconut. Not the taste. Consistency. It was yet another thing he and Effie couldn’t agree on. “What can I get you, sir?” said the man behind the cart. He had a large mustache, the color of egg yolk. Before him lay rows of frosted cookies, glazed donuts, chocolate marshmallow tea cakes, something called éclairs though he wasn’t sure and ten other things he didn’t even have a name for. “Do you have Twinkies, by any chance?” It was Effie who first introduced him to the golden sponge cake filled with cream. A peace offering after a particularly nasty argument and it was love at first sight. It became one of both his and Chaff’s favorite Capitol pastries. “Oh, thank you,” said Effie a moment later when he handed her the Snoball. She nibbled on it, relished in the taste. They heard talking and giggles further ahead and Haymitch looked up just in time to see three ladies with sun umbrellas – one white, one pink one blue – heading down their path. It wasn’t until they were almost past them that they looked up and saw Effie there, feeding her child. The lady with the white umbrella gasped, hand over her heart. “Scandal!” And they hurried past, speaking in agitated bursts to one another. Haymitch finished his Twinkie in two bites and peered at Effie. He’d be damned if there wasn’t a smile on her face, satisfied over sending those two-faced hypocrites into a state. His chest swelled with pride, over the way she never apologized for her children. Or herself for that matter. He wiped his hands on his pants and when Ian had had his fill he reached his arms out to his son. “Here, let me take him.” He placed him to his left side just like he had Amy. Effie helped him with the burp cloth. Holding him in place he tapped him gently over the back. The first few days after they came home from the hospital Effie got to do all the things that included holding Amy and Ian in some way. Whether it was changing a diaper or feeding them or just give them a cuddle. Just the idea of carrying them made him break into a sweat. He did other things. He cooked and bought groceries, made the beds, warmed Effie endless cups of chicken broth and even gave the house a throughout cleaning. All the things you could think of that didn’t include a baby. Effie never pressured him. And she did her best to care for them both. But then one night, about three days later, Amy and Ian were completely inconsolable at the same time. It was long past midnight and Effie walked back and forth across the room with Ian in her arms, rocking him at the same time as she spoke soft words to Amy crying her eyes out in the crib. Haymitch sat by their baby girl, helplessly patting her and talking to her but nothing worked. Her face was red and there were tears on her cheeks and finally he couldn’t take it anymore. Those cries made him feel physically ill. Truly. Sounds like she was all alone in the world and didn’t understand why. The nurse had shown both him and Effie how to hold an infant and with sweat rolling down his back he finally lifted his crying baby out of her crib and held her to his chest. He looked to Effie for reassurance and she nodded encouragingly. Amy cried and cried and he sat on the bed, frozen like a statue, just making sure not to clutch her too tight. He didn’t dare move or rock her or anything, not that night. Just wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. “Try talking to her,” said Effie and so he did. Afterwards he couldn’t even remember what, he hardly ever did after being in a state of panic. But whatever it was, it worked. She calmed down and he even dared move his hand a bit, up and down her back, caressing her. He still wasn’t quite used to the whole thing. Not yet. “I was the same way,” said Effie, hours later that night when they finally put Amy and Ian to bed. “With Alex. It will get easier.” Thank God, he had Effie. She was his rock through all of this. “How is he?” asked Effie and swallowed the last of her Snoball. “He’s OK. Sleeping I think.” Effie smiled. “Enjoy it while it lasts.” They helped him back into the child safety seat and had no sooner belted him down before another trio crossed their path. He hadn’t seen them since the birthday party when Gloria showed up. Felt like a hundred years now. Dressed in brand new outfits, following the latest trend, and there was no missing the orange corkscrew curls, gold tattoos and pea green skin. Odd to see them up this early in the day. Maybe they hadn’t gone to sleep yet. Arm-in-arm they headed down the road, chatting and waving their hands in the air. But the smiles drained from their faces when they saw Haymitch and Effie sitting there. Octavia’s gaze dropped to the child safety seats and her face turned a deeper shade of green. All three of them huddled together, like lost cheep. Then they hurried on without a word, eyes downcast. “Them too?” Haymitch said when they were gone. He was surprised by how painful the realization was. He always viewed them and Effie as good friends. “Yes,” said Effie with a tight face and all of her gaiety gone. What the stranger ladies couldn’t accomplish, Katniss’s prep team sure had. “Want me to talk to them?” “No, I can’t handle that right now. Not during Amy and Ian’s first day out.” But as they headed on to the next leg of their leisurely journey she seemed unable to keep away from the subject. “I’ve already tried talking to them. About this issue and how it’s affecting people like Lysistrata Vicker’s grandson and his wife. Many times. I don’t know who’s pouring poison into their ears but when my pregnancy happened they just… They couldn’t handle it. I never tried to hide it so everyone noticed very early on. And one day Octavia wanted us to meet up and she cried her eyes out and said we couldn’t be friends anymore. Venia could hardly even look at me and always changed the subject if I tried to talk about it. Flavius just ghosted me.” She switched hands, carrying Ian on her left side. “We need someone like Cinna.” Her voice brimmed with sorrow. “He always knew how to get through to them.” xXx “Time for bed, sweetling,” Effie said and kissed their daughter’s head. “Amy baby. My little angel.” Carefully she lay her down in the crib next to her brother and with the bear book in hand she reclined in the rocking chair. Haymitch stretched out on the couch. Pain shot up his back as he tried to find a comfortable position on this goddamn rock hard furniture. Finally he sighed and just slipped his hand in between the rails of the crib, searching until one of theirs closed around his thumb. Such a strong grip for someone so small. Holding their hands helped him sleep. Worked even better than the knife. Especially after a nightmare. He saw the irony. In a normal household, kids went to their parents’ room when they had bad dreams. Not the other way around. He closed his eyes, listening to Effie as she read in that soft, warm voice he loved. “’Can’t you sleep, Little Bear’, yawned Big Bear, putting down his bear book with just four pages to go to the interesting part and padding over to the bed. ’I’m scared’, said Little Bear. ‘Why are you scared, Little Bear?’ asked Big Bear. ‘I don’t like the dark’, said Little Bear. ‘What dark?’ asked Big Bear. ‘The dark all around us,’ said Little Bear.” When they came home from the hospital, the twins moved into Effie’s room immediately. Haymitch was to keep to his own room with one of the baby monitors on the nightstand, so he’d know when they needed him. What he didn’t anticipate was how much he needed them. If they were too quiet for too long he couldn’t concentrate, much less sleep. He actually preferred it when they were noisy because then at least he knew they were still alive. The first week he hauled himself out of bed every half hour or so to make sure they were still breathing. Finally he and Effie came up with this couch arrangement because even though he tried to be quiet he managed to wake Effie almost every time. ‘But I brought you a lantern,’ said Big Bear. ‘Only a teeny-weeny one,’ said Little Bear. ‘And there’s lots of dark.’ “Big Bear looked and he saw that Little Bear was quite right. There was still lots of dark. So Big Bear went to the lantern cupboard and took out a bigger lantern. Big Bear lit the lantern and put it beside the other one.” xXx They undressed in the dark, both too used to it by now they didn’t feel embarrassed. These past few weeks he’d seen so much of Effie’s breasts it was getting old. By the time she slipped into bed he was still trying to get out of his pants, face scrunched up in pain. Effie smiled and shook her head. “If your back hurts so then why don’t you come to bed? It’s big enough for the both of us. What?” she smiled when he hesitated. “Afraid I’ll steal your virtue?” She puffed up the pillows and lay down. “I thought tomorrow we could go for a picnic. The river Theseus, perhaps. What do you think?” “Sure. Whatever.” Relenting, he crawled in with her. At the end of the day the queen-sized bed was just too good to resist. It was pure heaven after weeks on the hard couch. Effie smiled, facing him. Hand on the pillow. “Have a nice 10 minutes of sleep, dear.” “Yeah. Here’s hoping.” xXx What a good dream. Eyes still closed, he buried his hand in her fragrant strawberry hair. Warm and sleep-soft, her lips moved over his. Haymitch groaned and opened his mouth to welcome her. Cuddled together they kissed and kissed and it was such bliss. No woman outside his dreams ever kissed him in such a way. Like he was a keeper. Not anymore. He gave in. She wasn’t really there, after all. Hadn’t been since they made love that one time all those months ago. She deepened the kiss, so willing despite his endless drunken crusades. Of course she was, this was his dream after all. Oh, Eff. As they kissed, tendrils of reality tugged at him. He fought it with everything he had, sure to wake up facing nothing but the wall. She didn’t disappear. The more he returned to himself, the realer she got. With an almighty effort he forced his eyes opened. Hers were still closed. Her hand cupped his cheek, trying to pull him nearer. “Effs, what’re you doin’?” She didn’t respond. Didn’t seem to hear at all. She’s dreaming too. She searched his mouth, sighed his name with such want and it took everything he had to pull back. “Effie, no.” He clasped her hands with both of his when she tried to close the gap between them. Knew she wouldn’t be doing this if she was lucid. “Just sleep, Eff. It’s OK.” She abandoned her efforts and for a moment she lay still. He released her hands and pulled the cover back over her shoulder. Smoothed a lock of hair from her face. A shadow passed over it and he saw her eyes flutter behind closed eyelids. “Where are my babies?” she murmured, distraught. “Sleeping like angels,” he said. “At least, for the next five minutes or so.” Comforted by these words Effie gave a tremendous sigh and cuddled close. Before he knew it, her head was on his shoulder, her arm slung across his chest. He tried to put some distance between them but it was futile. Every time he tried to get away, Effie clutched him tighter. “No,” she mumbled into his neck. “Mine.” He snorted a laugh. Realized this was a fight he could not win. He eased his arm loose from under her and wrapped it around her shoulder. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” Author’s note: Think this is the closest I’ll ever get to writing the trope “There’s only one bed” LMAO! I hope you liked the little “Zombieland” Easter egg. Leave a review and tell me your favorite scene and I’ll see you in the next chapter!

“Tell it to the frogs” Pt.1

Everyone's attention is captured by the sound of a car alarm going off. She looks to Dale who is trying to figure out what it is “Dale what on earth is that?” Bow asks “Talk to me, Dale!” Shane shouts. “I can't tell yet.” “Is it them? Are they back?” asks Amy frantically “I'll be damned.” “What is it? Dale” Bow asks now very worried “A stolen car is my guess.” Glenn pulls in and says hello. “Holy crap. Turn that damn thing off!” Dale shouts over the alarm. “I don't know-how!” Glenn answers, “ Pop the hood, please. Pop the damn hood, please.” Shane asks nicely but was losing patients, Amy is frantically asking Glenn about Andrea, and Shane finally shouts “Pop the damn hood!” “What? Okay okay. Yeah yeah yeah. Yeah yeah!”  Amy not paying attention to Shane ”Is she okay? Is she all right?” Glenn pops the hood so Shane can disconnect the battery to turn the alarm off. Bow walks up to Amy and pulls her back “Amy honey Give Glenn some space and a second to talk okay?” “okay” Amy nods and lets Glenn have his space. Shane turns to Glenn “Are you crazy, driving this wailing bastard up here? Are you trying to draw every Walker for miles?” Dale looks around the quarry “I think we're okay”. “You call being stupid okay?” “Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills. Hard to pinpoint the source. I'm not arguing. I'm just saying. It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it? I mean even with Bow’s barrier we should still be careful” Glenn nods in understanding “Sorry. Got a cool car.”  The group sees the truck arrive. Andrea gets out of the truck first, she and Amy quickly hug each other in relief. Morales gets out of the truck and his wife and children run up to him. Carl is still sad and wishes that he could reunite with his dad but he was thought to be dead. Shane and Bow both look at them in sadness. “You are a welcome sight.” Dale and Morales hug. Both laugh. “I thought we had lost you, folks, for sure.” “How’d y’all get out of there anyway?” Shane questions Morales, Glenn answers “New guy… he got us out.” “New guy?” asked Bow Morales nods to her “Yeah, crazy Vato just got into town. Hey, helicopter boy! Come say hello.”  Rick gets out of the truck.  Rick walks forward slowly, a sad unsure look on his face.“The guy's a cop like you.” Morales explains,Shane sees Rick, a look of disbelief on his face. Rick looks at Shane as Shane backs up, shocked and with no sign of happiness. Carl turns and sees his father. Lori turns her head to see what he’s looking at. Rick reacts as if he can’t believe his eyes. Rick points and whispers “Oh, my God.” Rick and Carl run to each other. Lori runs after Carl. “Dad! Dad!” Carl calls out as he runs up to his dad,Carl hits Rick with a hug and they both go down on the ground. After a few seconds Rick picks Carl up and carries him to where Lori stands looking as if she’d seen a ghost. She is stunned and blinking, her eyes wide open as if she still can’t believe them. She grabs Rick and pulls him to her. The three of them hug tightly, crying. Lori tries to understand how he could be alive. She looks up to see Shane with a sheepish smile. A look of disbelief comes to her eyes.  Shane looks away but he smiles and tries to be happy.  Rick looks around to Shane happy to see him. Shane smiles back at Rick.

Modern Enjonine au idea: Eponine is a part-time artist who pays her bills by running an OnlyFriends (ifykyk) where she posts tasteful nudes (basically pieces of art) but she does it as a way to source more money and pay her bills but it becomes a good reference source for her paintings (easier way to study the human body—think Georgia O’Keeffe). As her artwork begins to circulate among her friend Marius’ friend group, she gets ample praise from all of the students regarding her artwork. When a spiteful old flame (Monteparnasse) tries to obtain the upper hand by exposing the fact that this renowned artist is a part-time sex worker by slandering her name on TikTok, it eventually gets back to the Amis and the last one who anyone would think would have an issue with this, and her, but had the biggest issue, was Enjolras. He never made his discomfort public knowledge, but after one of the few times she’d visit the Musain after one of their meetings to mingle and drink, he’d ask the group about their thoughts on the outburst of sex work and how it was running rampant in today’s society. This seeming out of character to all of the Amis, many came to defend sex work as a whole and shoot down his very small-minded opinions that were seemingly based in nothing but chauvinism. After a quick conversation switch, Enjolras would stalk off, bothered, but the fire being stoked in Eponine would cause her to approach him and begin debated rather aggressively with him about his opinions. This leads to an argument, their first true interaction, and leaves them both frustrated as Eponine schools Enjolras and offers up counterpoints that he had been too narrow-minded to see prior. Leaving Marius to intervene and smoke coming out of Eponine’s ears as they exit for the night, it wouldn’t be until a week or so later when the next meeting would held that Eponine would attend and Enjolras would build up the nerve to formally apologize (after doing a week’s load of research). She begrudgingly accepts his apology, because despite her stubborn nature, he seems apologetic and it’s more than she’s received prior.

It’s later discovered that Enjolras’ opinions were rooted so far in toxic feminism/chauvinistic ideals (basically the whole “you’re objectifying yourself further,” “perpetually selling sex/no reclaiming of your body” type argument) because of the way he was raised and he doesn’t actually turn his head towards a new perspective when Ep shows him her paintings and he begins to see the vision that she has, thus understanding her appreciation for the human body and her ability to bodily autonomy. After this enlightening conversation, she confides in him about what Monteparnasse did, and it alights a fire in him regarding the fact that he is infuriated that she had her content stolen and thus, bodily autonomy that she holds so close, and his own recent education and budding opinions that make him an even fiercer defender of women as a whole. He has gone from seeing this branch of work and women who participate in it as something to judge to something much stronger than he could have previously perceived, and one of those reasons is Eponine.

(Hopefully this makes sense. I know it’s a bit of a tricky concept and could be interpreted as controversial, especially since you could argue Enjolras is out of character but I was more-so going for the angle that humanizes him a bit in the way of “he’s a strong man with the right idea but he’s still a man with something new to learn because his opinions are not always the right ones despite them belonging to him” and the idea of Ep being a SW makes sense in my mind because I perceive it as a way of her reclaiming what had previously been stolen from her and turning it into something beautiful. Lmk what you think!)

Oh this is an interesting one. Enjolras' views on women are nebulous at best in canon, so I think it would make sense that he could hold these traditional/backward views. I find this take on Ep being an SW (this particular branch of SW) insightful, and dealing with issues I haven't seen much in fic.

Maybe I'll have time to further explore this, but the first conversation that comes to mind with this fic is as follows:

--

"I don't need you to save me."

Enjolras raised an eyebrow. "I never said anything of that sort."

"You don't have to. But I can read between the lines," Eponine said, putting one hand akimbo. "To you I'm just a woman who doesn't know her worth, and is letting people exploit her. And you think a tirade from you is going to change that?"

"No, but maybe---" Enjolras trailed off before gritting his teeth. "Maybe it's just something for you to think about."

"I'll give you something to think about too, golden boy," Eponine said. "You don't ever think you can save people. We can only save ourselves."

As mugshots emerge of the Trumpworld figures indicted as part of a sweeping racketeering case in Fulton County, Georgia, one person is clearly feeling left out.

Amy Kremer, the organizer of the “Stop the Steal” rally that preceded the Jan. 6 attack on the Capitol, is so desperate to be part of the group that on Wednesday night she posted a photo of herself superimposed on the gray background from ​​Fulton County Jail, where mugshots of the nine defendants who have so far handed themselves in were taken.

“I stand with my colleagues fighting for election integrity,” Kremer wrote on X, the platform formerly known as Twitter. “The 2020 election was stolen and I’m not afraid to say so.”

Despite her dodgy photoshopping skills, some of Kremer’s supporters were fooled into believing that she had joined the likes of former New York City Mayor Rudy Giuliani and Kraken lawyer Sidney Powell in surrendering to authorities in Fulton County.

“God bless! I had no idea you were one of the defendants,” one follower wrote in response to the fake mugshot, before Kremer replied: “I’m not…for the time being, but I stand with them! They are coming for all of us, eventually.”

Some of her followers seemed even more confused, with one asking: “Who is that Amy?” to which Kremer responded: “It’s me.”

Kremer may have been inspired by David Shafer, one of those who signed documents falsely claiming to be Georgia’s 2020 presidential electors. On Wednesday morning Kremer shared a post from Shafer indicating that he had updated his profile picture on X with the mugshot image released by authorities in Georgia.

It’s unclear if other Trump supporters will join Kremer and create another MAGA meme, but they could be inspired to do so on Thursday when Trump himself turns in and his own mugshot is set to be published.

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Source Link: Jan. 6 Rally Organizer Created Her Own Mugshot Because She Felt Left Out