alright I've got to do some quick math to explain attitudes towards AI to my boss.
we're looking to create an AI policy, and when we were talking about this, my boss (older millennial) was genuinely shocked to hear that younger people do not (seem) to view AI positively (a la the recent commencement speakers being booed)
please rb for larger sample size!
Question 1/3
What is your age, and do you feel AI is a net positive or net negative in our lives today?
This is such a romantic image, with Colin so tiny and surprised and Penelope so isolated. It's both canon Polin and not, and I have so many ideas of what could happen from here. He'd be so invested in meeting her and talking to her. And I suspect he'd be so outraged to find out why she was being kept alone in the middle of nowhere. Colin might have been unprotected and alone out in the world, but he was able to seek out other people. He was not trapped, and he would never support keeping someone alone to keep them from choice.
He's so handsome and his white horse is perfect. It's an echo of the bright moon, so it triangulates between Colin, Rapenzel and the big, constant moon pulling them together and lighting the scene. I'm sure I'll write this one somehow. I love the image, and how pretty and soft Rapenzel is. Colin doesn't even know how beautiful she is, but he can feel it and it shows in his expression.
Did a heart yet to feel love break for the delay? Did it long to beat quickly and struggle to find favour? Was he just a weak mind to want a woman who looked at him in solemnity and understood he was not playing at shyness to charm? Colin was not a natural royal. He was a prince, but he was a prince in a family of princes and princesses. It did not feel like the thing that made him special, since it was merely a bit of lucky inheritance.
He did not want to go against God and divine plans, but he would likely never rule. He did not seem inclined to fight or to serve in the church. He deeply wanted fatherhood. He wanted his children to see a loving couple that had made them to love for themselves. He wanted to bring to life a new version of his parents' story.
The princesses and ladies paraded to be dance partners seemed like they would be equally glad to marry any kind man, provided he was coin-rich and not too emotional. They didn't know what to make of his real confessions that he was not needed in the kingdom with two older brothers and one younger one.
He rode out under the moon, having fought for this right to travel alone. It was about knowing he could manage himself, care for his horse, and navigate the world on his own. And he chose an odd way to go, because he would trust his feelings in this. He would trust his stallion, Biscuit. He would let the moon shine kindly down over him and give safety.
When the singing rose over the breeze, he thought it was a sign of fatigue. He was not tired, but he wondered about himself. He did not feel his legs were cramped, which happened first as his sign he must plan for his camping site for the night. He had to protect himself and his horse from the forest creatures. He was not prepared to deal with sirens peeking through the gaps of trees, singing to draw him in.
But the voice was so high up it might be the moon herself calling him on. He saw something in the next rise. It had the pearly glow of bricks or marble. It might be an illusion from his active imagination. He had read many books about travel and exploration. He had a fascination for the truly unknown.
The tower was so out of place, and the lady at the window was too high to see her. Colin knew two things: It was too high to see her at all to know she was beautiful. He knew she was the most beautiful woman he would ever see. Perhaps she was a little sister to the moon, and was keeping her sister company in the night. He could see no way in, or even much space for servants and protectors for this lady. Biscuit's white hide would glimmer up at her the way her pale skin sparkled at him, and she faltered in her song before continuing with a new note of energy.
Someone must care for her, because her voice rising sadly in a song about a lover far away was too truthful in tone. There was a long, red plait falling from the window and all the way down to the ground. The strange rope was soft and smelled of flowers. It was almost like the cool and sleek locks of a woman who did not pin and imprison her hair.
Colin didn't know where love entered the body. If it was the eyes, he knew he could not call it at first sight because he was too far below. It might enter through the mouth, because his lips were open to sip extra air in his awe. He suspected this love would tingle through his fingertips if he were touching her skin like the bricks of the tower. The song chiming into his ears felt like love slipping past a gentlemanly patience to create a furnace of hurry to meet this woman.
It was improper to not wait to be introduced, but he could not even see a door to leave his card. In this case, he might have to be quite brash and hope to be forgiven.
"I think you are feeling a bit lame," he said to Biscuit, who picked up a front hoof and hopped. "Do you think meeting a sweet lady would help you? I am afraid we are stuck unless we find a solution."
Biscuit's whinny was speculative. Horses famously did not climb to windows. Most windows were not horse sized. But Colin would fit or he would wiggle through. The rope seemed to have footholds and hand loops.
"I don't see another way to go about it," he said. "It's not a very obvious ladder, but it's strong and thick."
He grasped the rope with both hands and bent one leg to put his weight on it before he could nudge his horse back and trust it. He did not feel any danger. Falling was daunting, but he simply would not fall. That moon seemed lucky.
"I think I am a reasonably winning fellow," Colin said, his voice optimistic. "Surely I am one of very few fellows at present nearby, and thus worth my chance?"
He ignored the impertinent way Biscuit tossed his mane when he stepped back to let Colin climb or fall on his own efforts. So it was all on his own charms, then. He would exert himself.
Colin wasn't ready to meet or eat his family in biscuit form, and it leads to a bit of a breakdown before the treat.
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Bridgerton (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington
Characters: Colin Bridgerton, Penelope Featherington, Elliot Bridgerton, Violet Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton, Mrs. Wilson (Bridgerton)
Additional Tags: Ginger Baba, Red-Headed Parlour Shark, Playful Biscuit Cannibalism, Colin "I will not stand for anyone eating my biscuit wife!" Bridgerton, World Biscuit Day
Series: Part 39 of Decidedly Married
Summary:
“Now, Elliot, what biscuit do you want to try? It is sugar cookie with sweet icing,” she said. “I think biscuit Elliot looks very sweet, but I also love his little smile. Papa is very refined and dressed so well. He must be going to a party at Lady Danbury’s. I think my biscuit would give him a little kiss on the cheek right there.”
Pen took her own biscuit self and hovered it above the Colin biscuit. Once she had made a kissy noise, she kissed Elliot biscuit’s face and then went close to the boy’s face. He laughed and put his hand out, smudging his thumb through the swirls of pattern on her dress.
“Uh-oh! Mama’s icing came off!”
His son licked at it, and the pale blue must have been delightful because he reached to take the whole biscuit. Colin did not know why he snatched it away. He realized his error when Elliot flinched, and his face crumpled.
There are very few things so obvious and also unfair. I want my very big, long story to have a conclusion and be complete. I want to be happy with how the plots join up and smooth out to be cohesive. But it's so hard to write it like that. What irresponsible person started this story without a clear plan how to finish it?! Still me? It's a hell of a day to be me sucking this much.
every day of my life i read someone being like “why doesn’t this story just solve the problem immediately and casually? they just drag it out and make it an issue” well. because that’s the Story
ao3 is not changing anything by the way! some people just want them to change for some reason. my guess is that these people just don't understand how the site works and refuse to actually learn how it works, so they blame the site because it's easier for them that way.
ao3 is not changing anything by the way! some people just want them to change for some reason. my guess is that these people just don't understand how the site works and refuse to actually learn how it works, so they blame the site because it's easier for them that way.
In a sequel to From the Stuffing of my Bottom, Bunelope's condom counting is brought into doubt.
Chapters: 1/2
Fandom: Bridgerton (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Cottonball Bunnytail/Bunelope Plushington
Characters: Colin Bridgerton, Penelope Featherington, Bunelope Plushington, Cottonball Bunnytail
Additional Tags: Polin, Pawlin, The Lady Plushiedown Blog, Modern AU, Your stuffed animals judge what you do, Unrequited whatever, Friendship AND MORE, Inference of sex
Series: Part 12 of Nonhuman Polin AUs
Summary:
“There are too many condoms,” Bunelope said. “The box is sealed up, a full dozen.”
“He is a young guy, Bun,” Cotton told her. “Maybe he’s working up toward making a move where it counts?”
“No, because there are three condoms out of another box, but still his brand,” Bun said. “His, you know, his -”
She got embarrassed, remembering she was speaking to a male rabbit about the dimensions of her young owner’s body.
“They can’t be that different. His pina colada lube and custom pinstripes,” Cotton asked.
“His size,” she said. “His rather bigger size, and lubricated but unscented.”
