so funny to me when white american christians are like “ooh i incorporate my religious trauma into my art and thats why i draw these stained glass gothic church gold multi eyed reneissance sculpture angels agnus dei” like i know your protestant southern california ass didnt have any of that. go make some art about this
A young Heinz Doofenshmirtz poked his head into the ballroom. Upon seeing it empty, he wheeled a cloth covered cart through the massive double doors. Only moonlight chased away the shadows of the grand room.
“Heinz, are you sure about this?” His younger brother asked, trailing behind him. “What if mother finds out?”
“You won’t get in trouble.” Heinz said offhandedly. “Give me a boost.”
Despite their age difference, Roger was already taller than Heinz. He linked his fingers and helped Heinz step into the cart, where he disappeared under the cloth. He heard a few bangs and a couple yelps of pain before Heinz peeked back out.
“Behold… the Snow Funinator!” He whipped off the cloth, revealing a blocky wooden contraption with a block of ice strapped to one side.
Roger scratched his head. “What… does it do?”
Heinz grinned. “It’ll make the ballroom into a winter wonderland!”
“I can already do that.” Roger held out his hand and a snowflake danced on his palm.
“I know, but now I can too!” Heinz slapped the side of the inator. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”
Roger waved his hand and a snowstorm started. “Okay Heinz.”
Heinz flipped the switch on the inator. It started to buzz, and soon snow was shooting out one end. He gave an excited yell, running to stand under the snowfall. “It works! It really works!”
“Amazing.” Roger scooped up some snow.
“Do you wanna build a snowman?” Heinz asked excitedly.
Roger shrugged. “Sure. Why not.”
They rolled the snow into shape, and Heinz popped the buttons off his shirt for eyes and a mouth. “You know, I think he looks pretty– oomf!”
Snow trickled down the back of his shirt as he turned to see Roger packing snow. “Oh, it is on!”
The boys played together for what seemed like hours, throwing snow and giggling as piles of the stuff fell on the both of them. In the middle of the most heated snowball fight yet, Roger threw awry. Instead of the snowball going towards Heinz, it soared straight for the Snow Funinator.
Hitting a large red button.
“No!” Heinz lunged for his brother and tackled him to the ground just as the machine exploded.
Pain blinded Heinz. It felt like the entire left side of his face was on fire. When he reached up to touch it, his fingers came away wet with blood. Beneath him, Roger grunted.
“What was that?”
Heinz opened his mouth to answer, still dizzy, when the doors to the ballroom burst open. There stood his parents. They stared at the scene for a moment, jaws agape, then ran to the boys. Heinz pushed himself up with a sniffle and prepared for questions, but none came.
They ran right past him to Roger.
His mother fussed over his wet clothes and fixed his hair, while his father checked him over for injuries. Murmurs of “my sweet boy” and “you poor thing” were the only sounds.
Finally, they turned to Heinz.
“Was hast du gemacht?” His father asked, his voice on the verge of a snarl.
“I- we were having a snowball fight.” Heinz tried to form words between the pain and relentless stares of their parents. “There was an accident-”
“Of course.” His mother muttered darkly. “There always is. Come along, Roger. We need to take you to the healer.”
With barely a glance his way, Heinz’s parents scooped up Roger and carried him out of the ballroom. The sound of the door slamming echoed through the elegant room–
Leaving Heinz bloodied and alone.
Years later
Heinz surfaced from the dream with difficulty. Even years later, it had him in a tight grip. Constant whispers of what might have been circled in his mind every time he closed his eyes.
Finally sitting up, Heinz groaned and brought a hand to his face, tracing the white scar that went from just below his eye to his jaw. He had been forced to bandage the wound himself, and even now he didn't know if it had healed properly.
He stretched and rolled out of his bed, scratching his back and heading to the bathroom. Then he backtracked. Lying on a chair was the formal clothes he had laid out the night before.
Today. It was–
“It's coronation day!” Heinz said excitedly, grabbing the tunic and getting ready faster than he ever had in his life. Today was one of the few days he was allowed to be in public, and he intended to make the most of it.
His younger brother, Roger, was finally ready to accept the throne. Normally death occurred before the passing of the crown, but his parents were getting old. Besides, Roger had been training for the title ever since they were little. All these thoughts were running through his mind as he wandered the palace, watching people set up.
Much to the chagrin of the staff, he skated all through the castle with his socks– nearly knocking over an elaborate pink cake. “Sorry!” Heinz called to the servants, who just shook their heads and continued preparations.
He reached the top of a staircase and rode the banister down, yelling with glee as he gained speed. He shot off the end of the banister and nearly collided with a suit of armor.
“Whew, that was close.” Heinz said, leaned an elbow against the suit. “Glad you got out in one piece.”
The arm fell to the floor with a clang.
Heinz looked around to make sure no one had seen. After confirming the hall was empty, he grabbed the arm and tried to reattach it. It stubbornly refused to go back into the socket.
“You would think after years of inventing things I would be able to stick this thing back on nooo problem.” Heinz muttered to himself. “Leave it to knights to come up with the most complicated system ever.”
“Heinz.”
He turned and saw Roger approaching, a smile on his face. He quickly shoved the arm behind his back.
“How good to see you.” He opened his arms for a hug and Heinz accepted awkwardly, still keeping the metal arm behind him.
“Erhm– yeah. It's been a while.” Heinz said, a little bewildered Roger would touch him. The only times they had spoken had been when strictly necessary, and the last time that had happened was over a year ago.
“Well, I hope you are ready for the ceremony tonight.” Roger straightened his jacket. “How is Charlene doing?”
“Uhh… okay, I think. She's been doing well for herself as a merchant.”
“Good, good. And Vanessa?”
Heinz was a little surprised he remembered his daughter's name, as the last time he had seen her was when she was ten. “She's visiting the Visigoths this summer.”
“That sounds pleasant. Will they be joining us?”
“No.” Heinz scrutinized his brother. “Roger, you know Charlene and I divorced like, five years ago, right?”
Roger's smile faltered. “Oh, no I didn't. I'm sorry, Heinz.”
“Eh, it's no big deal.” Heinz tried to shrug it off. “It happened years ago. We're all good now!”
“Right.” Roger looked uncomfortable. “Well, I'll see you tonight.”
“Yeah. See you.” Heinz turned to watch him walk away. Suddenly his plans for a musical number about being allowed at a social event made his stomach turn. Behind him, the suit of armor collapsed. With a sigh he turned and tossed the arm onto the armor. The resulting clank made him flinch.
That evening, Heinz watched from the back of the room as his brother held the scepter and was given the crown by a doting mother. He clapped with everyone else as Roger turned to face them with his winning smile, showering them all with a light flurry of snow. Guests gasped and applauded even louder at the display of magic. Many of them were visiting royalty and had never seen the magical crown prince. Heinz wondered if they would be so amazed if they knew how many times he had gotten startled and frozen his hands together.
“Thank you all for coming.” Roger said, spreading his arms with a swirl of snow. “Now, let's celebrate!”
Heinz found his way to the ballroom, where there was already soft music playing. He headed straight for the food. There had been a rumor that the cook had made those fancy chocolates, and he wanted to grab some before they inevitably vanished. As per usual, the cook had gone all out and laid an extensive spread. Heinz loaded his plate and stood in the corner to eat, making sure to stay out of his family's way. If they wanted to speak to him, they would seek him out. His father did sometimes, but that was only when no one else would listen to his stories.
“Are you enjoying the party?”
Heinz whirled to see Roger standing behind him, carrying his own plate of food.
“Okay seriously, what gives? You’ve been acting weird all day.” Heinz squinted at him. “You weren’t taken by trolls, were you?”
“I don’t understand what you could mean.” Roger said, but Heinz could tell his smile was a little strained.
Heinz set down his food. “Really, are you messing with me? You haven’t talked to me in over a year, but in one day you’ve asked about my ex wife and daughter, and willingly came up to me at a party?”
“You’re my brother.” Roger soothed. He definitely looked strained. “We should have a good relationship.”
“Really.” Heinz felt frustration boiling up inside of him. “Because it feels like ever since I’ve gotten this–” He jabbed a finger at his scar. “You could barely stand to stay in the same room as me!”
“Heinz, I–”
“You know what? Forget it.” Heinz felt something in him snap. “I’m going out. Have fun at your party.” He turned and walked out of the room, bitterly wondering why he had even looked forward to the day.
I'm back!
My blog got deleted and I couldn't recover it, so here I am. I'm really excited to start posting again, any interaction is welcome!
Requests and Taglist open!
A03
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?
We've talked about Grace's rainbow symbolism in this scene, but I haven't seen anyone pointing out the detail of Stratt having a line of countries' flags behind her on her first appearance
I did SO much research for ya'll that I couldn't fit it in a reply ;_;
Flags are typically flown in a VERY specific pattern; Host country on the furthest left, followed by alphabetical order. The UN specifically does English Country Name Left-to-Right, UNLESS hosted in the US, in which case it is hung separately.
We can tell a couple of things from the Canadian flag hanging in the 4th spot from the left of the camera frame. First off, due to the alignment of the Canadian Flag, we can confirm the top of each flag is on the left. Meaning they are being hung vertically, not horizontally. The Canadian flag tells us these are country flags, not state flags for whatever region this scene is in.
From this, we know that the Red/White/Blue flag on the left side of the gap is specifically a left-red, white-middle, Blue-right tricolor flag. Technically there are no CURRENT country flags matching both this description and shade without a symbol.
However! France did lay claim to this flag from 1790-1794, and is the only country to have a flag with the correct shades. In fact, their current flag is just a reversal of that one, so I think it is same to assume it is intended to be the French flag, and was hung at an incorrect alignment by someone too lazy to confirm. Or they relied on AI, which also tried to tell me it was a French flag. F definitely is after C, so we can infer a left-to-right display.
Now, we can tell the flag on the right is top-red, white-middle, blue-bottom tricolor with a symbol within it. There are SO MANY flags with this color scheme, so I cut out all the ones with incorrect shades, the ones that weren't for major countries and the ones that had no symbol. We can also tell the symbol is wholly within the white stripe, thus removing countries such as Croatia where the symbol overlaps the other stripes. Since we know the Flag before the gap is France, we can also assume it comes after France alphabetically.
This leaves us with Paraguay. Unless it is ALSO hung upside-down, but all of those have clearly different (or no!) Symbols.
This means that gap can hold anything between France and Paraguay. In a current UN line up of 193 flags, this means that there are MANY countries that should have been in between. Like 62 of them. I choose to hope we didn't lose 62 countries, so I looked at the UN Founders Flag list, which only holds 51, and coincidentally uses the Old, reversed French Flag. Yay! That fixes the upside down issue!
Now. The bad news is. That still leaves 17 missing flags: Greece, Guatemala, Haiti, Honduras, Iceland, India, Iran, Iraq, Lebanon, Liberia, Luxemburg, Mexico, Netherlands, New Zealand, Nicaragua, Norway and Panama.
I took a moment here, and compared the rest of the UN Founders Flag Lineup to the wall. And I was horrified to learn Canada wasn't one of the founders. On a personal level because this is my home and I'm kinda pissed we weren't a founder. This is important because this means they were NOT using the Founders set-up. Meaning I did not need to write all those countries. It means one of two things.
EITHER:
A) We really did lose 61 countries between now and that scene, and I highly doubt they are all listed in the movie or book as being gone, so we will never know which one survived.
OR
B) The Artists/Set designers literally didn't care enough to check what order they should be hung in. Which sucks because this took me like an hour. It means we can not reasonably ascertain which one is missing. And also bothers me on a professional level as I can't break into the industry but the guy that decided to ignore such a basic concept did? Ouch.
TL;DR:
I am 99% certain that we cannot possibly know what flag is there, because to find out would require information never provided or a pattern that doesn't exist.
things that always make me happy: serial commenters. there are three types
1) reading a longfic chapter by chapter, leaving an increasingly emotional comment on every chapter, descends into keysmashes near the end: outstanding
2) read one fic by accident, clicked the author name, now working steadily through the backlog and commenting on everything, I wake up to an AO3 inbox full of enthusiasm: precious beyond words
3) the longterm serial commenter whose comment begins with I don’t even know this fandom but because they have followed me from somewhere else: stunning. humbling. magical.
these are all *chef’s kiss* and I want to add one more:
4) left a comment a while ago, comes back and leaves another comment on the same fic, telling you that they’re coming back to reread the fic: angels. blessings. lifesavers.
There is a forbidden type of magic out there. It isn’t forbidden because it’s inherently evil, or forces you to lose your humanity, or requires human sacrifices - it’s just forbidden because it’s annoying as heck to fight against.
“Ma’am, I really must insist that you pay for the room and board I’ve been giving you! It’s been a week!”
“Fine, fine,” I grumble. “I have a few options for payment: I could give you paper money, cheap gaudy jewelry, chocolate coins, spiders, some pretty seashells-”
“Spiders????” he repeats, baffled.
“Spiders it is, then,” I agree equitably, and with a wave of my hand the bed I’ve been sleeping in for the last week turns into a writhing mass of various spiders.
Worth it.
—
“Stop right there! You’re under arrest for fraud, destruction of property, and-!”
I yawn. “Didn’t ask, don’t care.” A few gestures, and the guards’ swords are all transmuted into spiders, and then they’re too busy to worry about little ol’ me.
—
“You have insulted my honor and humiliated me in front of my children! I demand satisfaction! I demand a wizard’s duel!”
Shrugging, I say, “Sure, okay, whatever. Right here and now okay?”
The pompous wizard-noble blinks. “I- you don’t want to prepare? Get your wizard’s staff or anything?”
“Nah, I’m pretty good with somatic gestures.”
“Well, if you’re sure… here and now then! Have at you!” He slams his staff down on the ground dramatically, a small shockwave of fire radiating out from the impact.
So of course, I turn his staff into spiders.
“AHHHH WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK”
“So if you’re too busy screaming to cast spells, does that mean I win?”
“AUGH ONE OF THEM BIT ME”
“I’m taking that as a yes.”
—
After that, they start coming at me in waves, with cheap wands and staves and swords and bows bought in bulk, hoping to exhaust my magical reserves so they can get close enough to put a magic inhibitor on me.
They did not expect my reserves to be as vast as they were, not did they expect me to be able to transmute the inhibitors themselves into spiders.
“Didn’t you take Magic Basics in wizard college?” I yell at the panicking mages. “Inhibitors aren’t immune to magic until the moment they activate! Serious weak point in the design, tell your magitechnicians to fix that!”
—
So of course they try assassins next.
Poison fails, because I transmute any food and drink I get into spiders and then transmute them back. Pretty easy way to get rid of poison.
So then they try knives in dark alleys. The knives bruise through my full-body spider-silk outfit, but do not penetrate, and they only get one shot before they have bigger problems.
Next is killing me in my sleep. None live to report back that the human-shaped lump under the blankets is actually a mass of highly venomous spiders.
The kingdom throws everything it has at me, and I continue to walk away, heralded by the chittering of spiders and the screams of everyone else.
—
Finally, I stand before the king himself in his overly opulent throne room, and by now he is a broken shell of a man in the face of my unorthodox tactics.
Good.
“What do you want?” he practically sobs. “You’ve singlehandedly redirected the entire crown’s budget for the next three years into replacing every weapon you’ve turned into spiders. Much more and we’ll be invaded by our neighbors! We wouldn’t be able to resist being annexed! So what can I give you to make you stop doing this?!”
I pause and pretend to consider, tapping a finger against my chin thoughtfully. “You know, you sent my brother off to war a few years back. That conflict with the Yughs up north, I believe. He didn’t want to go, so your guards forced him at spearpoint. I haven’t seen him since.”
He seizes on that, as I expected. “Yes, yes, I’ll have him returned right away! Tell me his name and I’ll honorably release him from duty and have him escorted safely home!”
“Oh?” I raise one sardonic eyebrow. “Are you able to bring back the dead now, oh wise and glorious king?”
He pales, and it’s the most satisfying thing I’ve seen in years.
“You have nothing I want,” I growl, letting the anger slip through for the first time in years. “You cannot bring him back, you cannot make up for my loss with all the riches in your kingdom. The only thing I want is to take everything from you, the way you did to me. Your kingdom will bleed out of resources, one of the neighboring countries you’ve been trying to conquer for decades now will take advantage and annex this place, and you will either be executed or forced to work for a living for the first time in your life.”
I glare at him, and he refuses to meet my eyes. “You will lose everything you ever cared about in your life. One spider at a time.”
I transmute his throne and crown into spiders (non-deadly; he doesn’t get to escape my wrath that easily), then turn and walk away, ignoring his screams and sobs.
—
And that’s why, when the Yughs finally annexed the kingdom I grew up in, they preemptively made Transarachnomancy a forbidden magical art. Not sure how they intend to enforce that, mind, but I’m not looking to challenge that. I’ve gotten what I wanted; if some other aspiring mage wants to try and follow in my footsteps, that’s not my problem.
Besides, in terms of magical skill, I’ve always been an outlier anyway. Most mages would be lucky to turn just one knife into a spider at a time; I can turn ten thousand with a few gestures. I doubt anyone will outdo my legacy.
But hey, if you want to try and surpass Georgia of the Spiders? Feel free. I’ll welcome the competition.
People noting this anniversary reminding me again that it is such an insane failure of the pro-choice movement that we do not as a nation think of George Tiller as a civil rights hero and additionally a martyr at the level of MLK Jr. or a Kennedy. So, you know, do your part, etc.
“It is my fundamental philosophy that patients are emotionally, mentally, morally, spiritually and physically competent to struggle with complex health issues and come to decisions that are appropriate for them.” – George Tiller, MD
“It is my fundamental philosophy that patients are emotionally, mentally, morally, spiritually and physically competent to struggle with com
if you are a parent, or may become one, or you are otherwise likely to arrive in the situation of caring for a child while they eat, promise me this: if a child doesn't like a certain food or food group, you will ask them WHY. and specifically, you will pay attention to either confirming or ruling out "it makes my mouth itch" or "it makes my stomach hurt," both of which are medically important info that children may not provide unprompted. which i know because this PSA has been brought to you by "i spent my entire childhood and much of my early teens eating peas and lentils while wondering why everyone else liked the Violently Itchy Mouth Sensation so much, like were they a bunch of legume masochists or something, before i finally realized that Violently Itchy Mouth Sensation was in fact a sinister demon appearing only to me, and her true demonic name was: Legume Allergy"
Hot tip for future parents: you actually have to guide your kid to adulthood. Feeding them and waiting for them to grow up is not enough since they are not house plants. A little more thought and care is required.
for those lacking certain "adulting" skills, especially things around the house, check out:
mom, how do i...?
and dad, how do i...?
^ there are tons of other resources but these two will teach you some personal hygiene, home or apartment repairs, easy recipes and basic cleaning techniques, even how to schedule doctor's appointments
if youre a renter i cannot recommend the trans handyma'am enough, mercury is a lifesaver, and her channel and accounts are always accepting new questions
there are so many resources, a lot that you dont have to even ask for, just know how to look 🩷 much love
Something so poetic about Doofenshmirtz's connection to his daughter. Doofenshmirtz had no one show up to his birthday party so he's so involved in Vanessa's birthday. He had no support for anything he's supports her interests even if he doesn't get it. He couldn't express himself the way he wanted to so he lets her express herself as a goth. He probably didn't have anyone at all when he was a teenager.
Thinking about Doofenshmirtz as a Dad and how self expressive Vanessa is.
He never EVER told her how to dress because he remembers being forced to wear a dress as a child and promises himself to always make her feel like she has autonomy no matter what.
She attempts to do a stick and poke tatoo and he's upset with her for not cleaning the needle properly. Then he shows her how to do it SAFELY where it won't hurt the skin.
Doofenshmirtz really doesn't care if she dyes or cuts her hair or gets any piercings just as long as it's safe and she's not getting scammed by something cheap. Which is ironic considering how unsafe he is with his inventions and how easily he gets scammed.
She dresses goth and self expreses with make up and when other adults ask him why he lets her walk around dressed like a wh*re. And Doofenshmirtz gives them a dirty look and tells them to shut up and get the fuck away from his daughter.
Vanessa tells him that guys cat call her in the school hallway for being goth and he tells her to give them the middle finger and don't listen.
Vanessa tells him she has a crush on a girl who thinks the way she dresses is scary and ugly and he tells Vanessa that she's not worth her time and that she deserves someone who understands her. Oh he's completely unphased that she's bisexual because he's bisexual. And Vanessa knows he's bisexual. They don't care.
A religious extremist looks at her and starts acting like she's possessed by a demon so Doof bullies them for being afraid of a child. (Teenager but still a child to him, a 40 year old)
