#:) all of this will be relevant don't worry

[embroid-away]

What If: Captain America Were Revived Today? #44 (April 1983) by Peter B. Gillis and Sal Buscema; Original Image by John Romita Sr.

In this What If? Marvel tale, Captain America is unfrozen in 1983 rather than the 1960s. Without the leadership of Steve Rogers, The Avengers disband. Meanwhile, a Captain America imposter, who calls himself a "real American," has decided to use his newfound influential media status to publicly support a National Identity Card to "deal with illegal aliens,” to suggest that members of civil rights groups "ought to think seriously as to whether or not their actions contribute to the strengthening of communist enemies," and declare that if those groups tear the country apart with protests, martial law is justified "for the peace to find a solution.”

Neighborhoods with large black populations (e.g., Harlem) are walled off and forced into poverty, and one character even mentions that Jewish people are being “put back into camps.” The right-wing politicians make sure that things like this aren’t shown on television, keeping the majority of the American public ignorant of the horrors committed with their indifferent support. The public are simultaneously told that with some sacrifices, America can be free once again. The fake Captain America confronts a group of peaceful protestors, and he is shot by a sniper (in what reads like an inside job), allowing the police to have “reason” to attack the protestors. The imposter does not die and instead uses the attack to provide more reason for the violent crackdown against protesting groups.

When the true Captain America is unfrozen, he is horrified to see what America has become, especially with his emblem stamped all over it. He immediately seeks out the resistance forces (who clearly represent the Black Panther Party) and joins their cause, stating that "the wrongs [he's] seen will take much more than one man to right -- but [he's] got a name to clear, a costume to unsoil-- and a country to die for!!"

By the time Steve joins them, the resistance only has one chance left to stop the American downfall: a political convention where the "America First" party will be able to secure its support to sweep the national elections and allow them "to return America to the pure and great nation [the] forefathers envisioned."

The resistance strikes just as the convention begins. The Captain America imposter is no match in a fight against the true Captain America -- especially against a Steve Rogers who's fucking pissed. ("Get up so I can knock you down!!")

With the imposter knocked unconscious, Captain America addresses the convention crowd, warning that an America that does not represent all its people does not deserve to exist at all; that liberty can be "as easily snuffed out [in America] as in Nazi Germany" and "as a people, we are no different from them."

The crowd realizes that the man speaking before them is the true Captain America and cheers. Captain America holds his hand up and silences them, stating that he will not allow them the chance to simply replace one idol with another. He alone can’t undo the horrible damage, and he pleads that there’s still a chance for the people to “find America once again.”

Fascism doesn’t change its tune, just its singers.

A 2021 Marvel Trumps Hate ( @marveltrumpshate ) commission, completed on 22-count aida cloth with embroidery floss and watercolors on a 9" diameter bamboo hoop.

[milquetoast27]

Subtext in The Creeping Man

I find that this story of Arthur Conan Doyle's Holmes canon features some of the most complex subtext we've had aside from A Study in Scarlet. But rather than being complex early-on because of our lack of knowledge of the characters, it is rather complicated by the fact that we both know too much and too little of their relationship. This story, with astonishing subtlety, conveys the cooperative relationship between Doyle's two characters — the nuance in their limits and strains, but also the joys that they work to reach, together. It emblemises the beauty of the Canon, where it all ties back to the joy and complexity of human understanding and belonging.

This story opens in "those latter days" (1903, near to Holmes's retirement) where Watson describes their relations as "peculiar". The word certainly feels like a euphemism from the ever-polite Dr. Watson, when it is soon made clear that their relations were far from amenable. Watson has become one of Holmes's "concentrated habits", and apparently is as good as a piece of funiture, as all of Holmes's remarks would have been as "appropriately addressed to his bedstead." It's given through snapped sentences; "I was a whetstone for his mind. I stimulated him. He liked to think aloud in my presence." This "irritation" and discordance between them is extremely concentrated in the early pages of this story, but drags through it, as well. Take, for example, the "laconic" (or perhaps iconic?) message:

"COME AT ONCE IF CONVENIENT — IF INCONVENIENT COME ALL THE SAME. S.H."

Watson gives us the original of Holmes's telegram to demonstrate to his readers just how "long-suffering" he is. A true exhaustion is apparent in how he simply shows the telegram, rather than politely referring to it. Compare this with the unendingly civil telegram sent to Watson in The Boscombe Valley Mystery, and you can see the great shift that has taken place in their alliance.

"HAVE YOU A COUPLE OF DAYS TO SPARE? HAVE JUST BEEN WIRED FOR FROM THE WEST OF ENGLAND IN CONNECTION WITH BOSCOMBE VALLEY TRAGEDY. SHALL BE GLAD IF YOU WILL COME WITH ME. AIR AND SCENERY PERFECT. LEAVE PADDINGTON BY THE 11.15."

While long-term and intimate relationships will remove need for over-courtesey, there are two very different reasons for why Doyle has shown both of these telegrams at a point in time. This accumulation of Holmes's ungrateful behaviour not only imparts Watson's utter despondancy, but also, importantly, Holmes’s — and this is something that Watson's ever-perceptive and intelligent heart does not fail to miss. It is important to note that this story nears Holmes's retirement, where he acknowledges that he has been "sluggish in mind". There is no doubt, then, that the great detective is out of his prime. Hence the temperementalness, taking his Watson for granted, and a heavier reliance on those "narrow and concentrated habits."

Despite the turbulent roads of their life, we see Watson's undying devotion co-exist with it. Past all the irritation, Watson closes, "Such was my humble role in our alliance." It is more than clear that he consciously makes the decision to remain at Holmes's side, to be his ally. Such has always been Watson's role in their alliance. His "humble" service extends to his practice as doctor and soldier. His pride is in his duty to others, and to Holmes as his assistant.

There is something that shines through Holmes's unsocial behaviour when we look closely at the text.

I sank back in my chair in some disappointment. Was it for so trivial a question as this that I had been summoned from my work? Holmes glanced across at me. "The same old Watson!" said he. "You never learn that the gravest issues may depend upon the smallest things."

We know from the Canon (opening of DANC and RESI) that Watson's emotions are like an open book to Holmes. This 'sinking in some disappointment' is not missed by Holmes's 'glance'. "The same old Watson!" he says, and I feel it important to note that he compliments one of Watson's most distinguishing features; his stability and fixture — the "one fixed point in a changing age." Yet, we may miss these details, because Holmes, ever in his own insecurity, must back-hand every praise with a teasing chide. We could say that an attempt was made to cheer Watson up, though not very successful.

Developments continue, as Holmes tryingly says "I had hoped to have a longer chat with you", then parades him with compliments before their client, "Dr. Watson is the very soul of discretion". But mixed indications continue to come as he flips back to patronising language; "You will appreciate it, Watson, when"—. Doyle further cements Holmes's particular unbecoming behaviour on this day as he further also annoys their client, who speaks in a "tone of reproach" when Holmes does not listen, and is "clearly annoyed" at irrelevant interruptions — to which, Holmes only smiles in, what I believe, is pure self-importance.

Here we find a shift — a greater effort on Holmes's part, a second round of appreciation for Watson's stability, even when his opinion is faulty. "Good, Watson! You always keep us flat-footed on the ground". He's then included in his bubble; "We were gradually coming to that conclusion, were we not, Watson?", and even a sordid attempt at bringing Watson with him on the bait of the Chequers in 'Camford' where "the port used to be above mediocrity and the linen was above reproach." (Which he follows up on!)

And, despite these attempts, their connection still does not rekindle. Watson is clearly irritated still with the inconsiderate easiness with which Holmes was able to leave London, leaving only difficulty on Watson's end to join him. It's an indicator from Doyle that nothing's remedied, yet.

Here is an interesting passage for study.

"Have you the effrontery necessary to put it through?" "We can but try." "Excellent, Watson! Compound of the Busy Bee and Excelsior. We can but try — the motto of the firm."

Burstive praise from Holmes at the merest utterance of a phrase — a phrase which has only ever been used one other time in the Canon; the previous story, The Problem of Thor Bridge. This suggests it may be some small motto of Holmes's, though one not often seen in Watson's records — this makes his use of the phrase a very Holmesian approach. This participation, no doubt, is nothing but a delight for Holmes, who is trying to restring their relationship, and continues to overenthusiastically affirm Watson's sturdiness.

Yet it's made clear that superficial praises are not a true apology, as we see signs yet again of Watson's dispassion. As they sit to their meeting with Professor Presbury, Watson writes:

Mr. Holmes smiled amiably.

This sentence may seem unassuming, but be assured it is one of the coldest in the Canon. This usage of "Mr. Holmes" is entirely unique within the Canon. In other times, when Watson has used "Mr. Holmes" or "Mr. Sherlock Holmes", it has been when speaking directly to his readers, since they would be using the honourific. This moment is the only exception, where Watson has intentionally used "Mr." to create distance and convey undesire for intimacy with Holmes (rather than any professional effect). Why has Watson used the line here? Well, Holmes is 'smiling amiably' — in a way that forces a friendly manner, one that attempts to create a good impression with Professor Presbury — which also didn't work out, by the way. Considering all the superficial means up to now employed by Holmes on his companion, Watson no doubt feels cheapened and no more important than Holmes's investigative objects; as if his trust is just as easy to gain as anyone else's, with nothing but an 'amiable smile'.

We are shown time and again that Watson isn't pleased with Holmes's desultory attempts at reconciliation, until finally, a shift happens. One that is not identifiable in the text, and so is reasonable to assume happened unpenned. We find Holmes acknowledging that "Dr. Watson has his patients to attend to", when before this information seemed completely irrelevant to him. Holmes even sent Watson a "short note asking [him] to meet at the train"! The greatest change is when we finally have Watson using "my friend" and "my comrade" for the first time in this story. Now we see Watson taking real excitement in the case, in the "assurance of [his] comrade". Self-teasing also makes its way into their dialogue as Holmes cries "Oh, Watson, Watson, what a fool I have been!" The emphasised address seems to suggest an apology for something more. It's as if he cries 'Look how wrong I have been Watson, how imperfect and daft I can be!' It's adorable, really.

All semblances of reproach towards Holmes disappear as they steal together in darkness, come to the dénoument of their adventure, as Holmes philosophises on science and nature, and described admiringly as "the man of action". Our story ends in a light-hearted resolution, as always.

"There is an early train to town, Watson, but I think we shall just have time for a cup of tea at the Chequers before we catch it."

To conclude, this story presents so much so subtly in its pages; a reflection of the small, nuanced and unseen processes between human beings, but those which we must be attentive to in order to find fuller understanding between each other. Yet, there is still much uncertainty in my inferences; which also shows the uncertainty of language and communication. We simply must be clear of ourselves, as we can only assume Holmes and Watson were, off-page, for them to have found that resolution, rather than fleeting smiles and compliments. Arthur Conan Doyle, with this story, further cements the triumph of bonds and connection, perhaps far more than any other of his stories.

[jessicas-pi]

For the AU Ask Game

What about any members of the Ghost crew in a Jurassic Park situation?

this. uh. might not be what you had in mind? But it is situation straight out of Jurassic Park and it is the Ghost crew members and it's what I was inspired to do so I'm gonna say it kinda counts!

--

Hera had never regretted anything more than she regretted accepting this invitation.

She should have known better. She should never have agreed. But---but Sabine had been so happy.

Sabine hadn't been happy in a long time.

(It had seemed like she might be, when she'd had hope for finding Ezra, but... well. That hadn't gone very well. There had been an argument, and Sabine and Ezra hadn't talked in months.)

"There's this scientist," Sabine had said, when she was trying to convince her to go along with her. "He's been collecting bio-samples from parts of Mandalore since before the Empire glassed it. He's cloned animals and plants, and begun to repopulate one of Mandalore's moons with them. The whole thing is a park. There are species that were wiped out in wars almost a century ago. He's healing my home, Hera."

The problem was, cloning was not allowed by the New Republic, and they were trying to shut down the project. This scientist sought Sabine out, asking her to come see what was being done, hoping that having a war hero vouch for his project would help convince the New Republic to make an exception.

And Sabine had begged Hera to come along, too. The scientist had added that she could bring her son, that there was a petting zoo filled with cute little critters, that he would have a wonderful time.

At the time, Hera had thought it was perfect---they could bring Ezra, and Zeb, too, and Ahsoka, and it would be an opportunity to try and mend burned bridges and bring their family together again.

She was so, so wrong.

The animals---the big ones, the mean ones, the ones that the scientist hadn't mentioned---were loose. The fences were all down. The power was out. Zeb was stranded. Ahsoka was missing. And worst of all, her kids---Sabine, and Ezra, and her own precious little boy---were out there. In the dark. In a storm. Alone.

And Hera was stuck in this control building, with all the lights out, at the end of a long table, unable to do anything but eat half-melted ice cream and wish that they were all home.

(She would not be endorsing this park.)

[bleaksqueak]

Woah dang, waking up to 99+ notifs on tumblr almost always means that an old Homestuck piece is going around again... imagine my delighted surprise to see it was all notifs about Soli! That was a great thing to wake up to. Felt an actual flutter in my chest. Thank you so much, everyone! And apologies for how Elias' hair keeps subtly changing. You always kind of figure out exactly how a character looks and how to draw them as you go along with sequential art. It, funny enough, largely comes from figuring out their acting (so lots and lots of different angles and features that need to shift/change slightly to carry the weight of looking like they should feel, for lack of a better way to describe it ) At any rate, glad to see people are excited for chapter 3! next update will be next week, and will be a two page spread.

[clever-fox-studios]

Jenn suffers from a form of hubris called "friend shaped".

There's at least one person in the guild with an open bet that Jenn gets deleted by petting something that she shouldn't, so it's a very well known trait of hers in certain circles. Just not the ones Sun and Moon are in.

This is a canon event.

[ruvviks]

// wip day.

tagged by; @adelaidedrubman, @katsigian and @hibernationsuit, thank you so much!! tagging; @reaperkiller, @envergothash, @dickytwister, @shellibisshe, @secondsundering, @devilbrakers, @dekariosgale, @velocitic, @necro-hamster and YOU!

thought i'd do something different for this today :^) i'm working on a powerpoint (inspired by ezra velocitic thank u for the idea ^-^) to hopefully one day be able to explain the cyberpunk extended blorboverse that red reaperkiller and i have been working on for over a year now! it also includes my own story with vincent and his friends since the two stories eventually come together sometime in 2083 and 2084 (yeah i know the game is called 2077 i don't care leve me aloe). here's some slides to give you an idea of what kind of lore to expect :^)

[hyperfixation-or-death]

hey so i've been very, very, very hyperfocused on Epic the Musical for like. four days? (like. very intensely hyperfocused.) so if you tagged me in something, don't worry, i didn't forget! i'll get to it!

i just need to figure out how to cope with intense hyperfixations again, because this is like the Disney+ release of Parallels all over again.

(on that note. if anyone has a post or something about what to do about hyperfixating so hard that you forget to eat, drink water, leave your room, and do other basic activities required for human function, please tell me, because i can't find anything helpful, and my blog name is Not Supposed To Be Literal.)

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[soupmanspeaks]

silly salvaged and its greg interviewing everyone (all the animatronics) for a marketing class at school or something

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

In the spirit of that reblog, could you tell me more about Luis? He's the primary whumper in lots of your writing and many of the war mages seem to sincerely loathe him, but then Mariano is shown to have a really trusting relationship with him and Luis clearly cares about the war mages at times. I haven't quite strung together the complexity of it all yet~

Ohhhh my god yeah this ask has activated my Cannot Shut The Fuck Up Disease so let's GO.

Luis is absolutely a complex whumper and hard to easily grasp. He has nothing but love and care in his heart for his mages. He's trained literally every single one since they were 18, and you can't not form a bond of some kind with someone in that time--and all of them know that he loves them. They know he would rather die before seriously, legitimately harming them on purpose without reason. They know he gets zero actual enjoyment out of hurting them.

Unfortunately, they're all special ops soldiers. People who, sometimes alone, are put in situations where they face capture and torture and unthinkable suffering. So Luis has to prepare them for these possibilities. He's seen what happens when you aren't prepared, back when he was one of the very first war mages on his own squad.

He's seen people give up and die, people he loved dearly. He's lost mages, Dimitri and Laredo's old squad, because there was an accident and (in his eyes) they didn't have training and clear guidance to fall back on (I will get to that in the stories though, it's something that informs the "you have to save yourself" standing order he has in place). Luis is someone who fears loss, especially loss of bright, young, talented mages. So he tortures them in a safe area with his own two hands, and teaches them how to read a torturer and captor, and how to mentally recover from the immediate aftermath, and how to escape even if it feels impossible.

He trusts his mages to follow his orders, and they trust that if they do what he wants, he'll treat them well. It's a basic sort of thing but it's necessary for their relationships, and generally he's very fair with not punishing them too harshly for silly stuff so he legitimately does build a good rapport with them all. If they get the training room, or are threatened with death, it's because to Luis what they did was just that serious.

Unfortunately, he does still butt heads with them, and he does still threaten their lives if they decide war crimes aren't something they want to do, all on top of punishing using their worst fears. Over time, no matter how much you love someone, that sort of abuse sours all the good feelings. The good feelings don't go away, bc when they're good they're good, but it makes things complicated.

Dimitri trusts Luis to not freeze him to death over simple disobedience, but he's afraid of him, and he hates him, and loves him, and if Luis approached him with an apology and changed behavior after prison? Dimitri would forgive him, because he was forgiven after making changes and working on himself.

All of the war mages feel similarly, really, because Luis' warmth and care isn't an act. They know that like them, he's also receiving orders that he can't just disregard. They may hate him sometimes, and they may disagree with him on fundamental stuff like "hey, perhaps stopping the war crime stuff could improve our lives in the long run", but they're all stuck with each other in a shitty, traumatic situation, so they make it work.

BASICALLY with Luis I'm exploring complex, complicated feelings about someone who has power over you, sincerely loves you, and who hurts you anyway bc I just think it's interesting! :)

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

nothing gives me that awful not on purpose alienated feeling of "not like other girls (derogatory)" like reading the cutesy little real slice of life tidbits my fellow novelists post. "my silly little dog barked at a squirrel! as if she would know what to do with it!" I'm still grieving my recently crossed over dog who was bred to hunt boar and would politely catch and eat rabbits only when I was distracted, who was also battle arena champion of the dog park with the drug deals and street prostitutes working the parking lot. "I've baked a scrumptious old timey cake!" I'm slamming back my second protein shake of the day and eating my three egg whites. what's a roux. "Oh! I've gone back to partner dancing! So strenuous!" Me, shins covered in bruises from pole or muay thai, possibly bleeding from the mouth, who knows?: idk man I'm not sure i go here.

[abronzeagegod]

ETS WIP Chapter 2: Small Gods

[Start][More]

Their luck did not hold out.

It is the nature of tech support to be superstitious, and Aeth was particularly superstitious. It had served them well a number of times in the past and it made them feel better.

Everyone in tech support has their little rituals. Aeth had many. Different things they did when they're working in the office versus when they are out on house calls.

Hair up and dressed in greens when they do things directly related to server maintenance. Hair down, three rings on their left hand, one on their right, six total earrings, and dressed in neutral colors when their tasked with debugging long strings of code if the deadline is less than 24 hours.

The last stop and job for the day had Aeth going to a house and taking a look at their decades old computer, and trying to fix something so old that a replacement is probably going to have to be done.

That means that Aeth was once again changing in the back of the van to dress in grays and blues, with a sensible working class watch, with at least three different screw drivers in their tool kit, along with a fresh roll of duct tape, and exactly two pieces of gum.

The house that they were sent to was a simple thing, no more than one story with an attached garage. It was quaint. Nice even. A bit of a surprise to find a small, charming little house with a yard in the sprawl of the city that Aeth called home, but they long ago tried to stop being surprised by this city.

There's a couple of small toys that they have to carefully step over to reach the front door.

They knock on the door and are very quickly greeted by a man that looks very much like a dad. There's something about his look and the way he stands that feels very dad-like.

"I'm here with Tech Support," they say, holding out their ID to confirm their identity. "You need some help?"

He smiles kindly at you. "Yes, we do. I'm afraid I'm relatively hopeless with technology, so I can use any help I can get."

The door is held open for Aeth, and as part of their ritual, they take out one of the pieces of gum and put it in their mouth as they cross the threshold.

This house is nice, small but clearly loved and cared for.

It bares the marks and scars of family life and love in abundance. Just as the man next to Aeth looks and feels like a dad, this looks and feels like a home. It's deeply comforting and there's something there that puts Aeth slightly on edge. There's nothing outwardly wrong, nothing sinister, it's just that because there is no sign of anything negative, harsh, mean, or off-putting that everything becomes that marker.

"Follow me," the dad says as he leads them into the room where the computer rests.

The room is absolutely filled with books and bookshelves, so the desk with the ancient computer is almost comical in how out of place it looks.

The computer itself is ancient, by technological standards. It is at least 20 years old, if not more, and Aeth is surprised that it is even still functional, since it was likely made long before the advent of the modern internet much less the numerous technological advances that have happened since then.

Hells, this computer was probably older than Aeth's job as a public servant since tax funded, publicly available tech support was only mandated and put into effect thirteen years ago.

They must have let out some kind of involuntary noise because the dad chuckles. "Yeah. It's a bit old, but it's worked so far."

Again, that seems very odd because at the rate of technological advances this thing was obsolete 19 years ago.

"I'll take a look at it, run a few diagnostics and see where we're at," they say. "What do you primarily use it for?"

"I mostly use it to look up recipes and print them off for dinner. My daughter likes to play those learning adventure games, and browse some internet things. With supervision of course," he adds at the end like Aeth might judge him, or arrest him, for letting a child alone, unsupervised on the internet. "My partner uses the computer more than I do, some work related things I think, but he mostly uses his work laptop for that kind of thing."

Aeth nods. "I understand. I'll take a look and let you know what I find."

The dad nods and says he'll be around if they need anything. He then leaves Aeth to their work.

They move to sit in the squishy chair situated in front of the computer and is immediately poked in the back by something sharp.

The vague edginess that had been haunting Aeth suddenly ratcheted up to eleven as they jumped out of the chair and whipped around to face whatever was lurking there, only to find a toy dinosaur wedged in the seat. The sharp plastic tail was the vicious thing that attacked them.

"Sorry! I forgot where I left Misses Boney," said a sudden voice right next to Aeth.

Once again, they all but leap out of their skin as they turn to face the new thing.

A small child, possibly seven years old, somehow materialized next to them, holding another plastic dino in one hand. The dinosaur appears to be going through it considering the long blonde wig tapped to their head; which, if how Aeth reacted to their last breakup was any indication, this stegosaurus and their haircut were crying out for help.

The child pulls out the once green and bright dinosaur that had been painted over with various different colors of gray.

"Thanks," they say.

"Are you here to fix Sir Lance Corporal?" the child asks.

"Is that the computer?"

"Yeah."

"Then I am." Aeth can't help but wonder if the computer's name is first name Lance last name Corporal, titled Sir; or if the name is two titles with a first and last name to be determined.

"Good, the Corporal has been being slow and kind of sick," the child informs Aeth. "I want him to feel better."

"I'll certainly do my best," they tell the kid.

They don't move and just watch Aeth expectantly, waiting for them to get started with their work.

"Uh, you can watch if you want, but it's going to be really boring."

"Oh," the child says and visibly deflates as they start to press some keys to start looking up technical specs on the computer and running various commands in the command prompt.

It takes a few minutes for them to find the internal records on the computer that list exactly what the specs are for the equipment in there. The whole process takes longer than Aeth would have liked because so much of the tech is so old that they don't know what it is or does, so they have to look up so much stuff. Eventually they manage to confirm that something very weird is going on.

They look up and confirm that some of the equipment pieces are totally incompatible and there's no way the computer should even be turning on much less functional. The motherboard is incompatible with the graphics card, there is no wireless receiver to connect to the wifi and yet the computer is telling them that it is connected to the internet.

This whole thing was getting weirder and weirder.

They play around on the computer for a bit, putting some of the software through it's paces, running some tests, checking out things, they even boot up one of the games that the kid apparently likes to play and Aeth is immediately hit with a wave of nostalgia for some of the similar games they used to play as a kid.

Everything worked perfectly fine. A little slow, a little clunky, but it was all in perfect working order, when it shouldn't have worked even a little bit.

They carefully shut down the computer and wait for a moment. Aeth had no good ideas as to what was happening with the computer or why, and those bad ideas that they did have don't fill them with any hope.

Carefully, they put on some gloves and go unplug the computer so that they can start taking it apart.

Immediately, Aeth knows something was up. There was something deeply strange about this computer. And that is beyond the capabilities and lifespan of a computer simply being old and well preserved.

Not good. Not bad.

Just deeply, deeply strange.

Which is territory that comes with the job.

They open the computer tower and discover many more wires and components and complexity than they've seen in entire server farms.

This was the best possible time for that second piece of gum.

The hot cinnamon flavor explodes in Aeth's mouth before quickly starting to fade.

It takes them almost two hours to disassemble the computer.

It takes them almost two hours to find it.

The cause of all the trouble, all the weird concerning things that have made this job so odd, was a small chip installed in the motherboard. The whole thing didn't match a single manufacturer or model or piece of equipment that Aeth had ever seen before.

They touch it and They fall into something strange dust lakes a ruined temple tan and gray walls crumbling upon themselves a labyrinth of cracks and spiderwebs coat this church empty abandoned almost a forgotten ruin save for the chalk drawings of a child.

They feel slightly nauseous but the rapidly fading cinnamon flavor keeps them grounded, as does the repetitive muscle movement of chewing.

They know that, objectively, they were experiencing the projection and construction of a supernatural entity that is almost 100% not real but some kind of construct to impart some kind of feelings, but they can't help but feel a certain sense of awe and despair at the beauty and the decay all around them.

if you like this maybe leave me a tip, you can read these posts early too!

[blujayonthewing]

so in juniper's campaign we've just found ourselves in a high-stakes situation that I as a player do frankly find stressful and am anxious about, but hey hi also the DM was like 'okay here are the exact mechanics of how this is going to work because I don't want to surprise you with serious repercussions, also here are all the options you will have to try to do something about the situation-- [affected player] what do you think? honest feedback, I don't want it to feel unfair, I want to be clear that I am not just trying to kill your character, and if it ends up being badly balanced we can revisit it down the road' and oh my god I could COLLAPSE and WEEP with gratitude

[nompunhere]

do you have any bug game stories that are more romantic than platonic? (not sexual ofc) safe noms with lovey-dovey nonsense is peak fiction for me

hmmmmge, in terms of ones I've already written, I've got like 2 or 3:

Where Ash Drifts Like Snow - C/rimson N/ails (so M/arkoth/X/ero), pre-relationship, they're both crushing hard, definitely fluff

Tender Moments - Q/uirrell/emm (or L/emmq/uirrel, whichever we call it), the definition of lovey-dovey nonsense, there's hardly any plot to it it's just 2.6k words of fluff

Bug Bites 3 - Chipped, the first ficlet there, has some fluffy Q/uirrell/emm again, and the one after that, Stealth Nap, has that pairing + T/iso, but any romance is maybe just sorta implied? A little?

Oh and there's This 2-part Thing - Not bug game, but notable in that the couple there is technically a romantic pairing, lot of angst with a touch of hurt/comfort at the end. if it helps I was picturing it with X/ero as the pred and M/arkoth as the prey while writing it lmao

aaaaaand because of my usual bs, here's a couple tidbits of stuff I have in the idea doc and outlines of unwritten fics that happen to involve romance below the cut (so many pheckin images)

gonna start off with the complete outlines, for which I have three that basically set up Quirreloro and that's about it for romance:

Interlude. not vore, but vore gets referenced at the end.

Storytime. Oro is enlisted to share an anecdote from his and Quirrel's shared history. Can't remember if it's pre-relationship or established.

Research Project. Let's just say you're bound to figure out where you stand with someone when you're that close for that long ;)

next up, future Bug Bites:

Tisoquirrel fluff (and Ghost is also there). Shenanigans ensue.

Crimson Nails. Those two are still crushing super hard on each other but may or may not get slightly less useless about it.

Tisoquirreloro. Or Tisoquirrel at least, Oro isn't too involved yet. More shenanigans ensue.

...Ogrisma? I don't know how people tend to write out the ship name but yeh. Fluffy fluff. Finally, a semi-functional couple

Crimson Nails again. They may or may not be aware of how useless they are and may or may not work towards fixing that.

Clothmyla. Seriously I don't know what the ship names are for a lot of these. Anyway, uhhh. Attempt at lessbeans. Gotta start somewhere!

Aaaaand finally, an Assortment of Other Ideas. hh.

Crimson Nails, Xero moves into with his boyfriend. Hurt/comfort.

Cold Night 2, electric boogaloo, and this time it's Tisoquirreloro. Many much cuddols.

Oh wait I guess that's about it for the romance fic ideas without going into things that are more plot than noms/fluff. and I've already gotten way ahead of myself anyway, so. e ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ enjoy the patches of content ! probably gonna ramble in the tags again

[chenziee]

I have three zine fics that I can theoretically post now but I'm so mentally and emotionally exhausted after the past two weeks that I can't even bring myself to just... post any of them

[aropride]

i have a dog motif going on but it's way different from whatever y'all have going on and it's based off an idea i had for a headcanon for a miraculous character