#I nearly gave up on this one so many times

[ranwing]

The plan going forward (or The Resistance 2.0)

I'm still processing and digesting the results of the election, because it is beyond disheartening. I am aware that many American voters have very short attention spans, and they bought the argument that because the economy was better under Trump's first term that it made sense to return him to the White House. They conveniently forgot that he was a major reason why our economy went into the tank, or that Biden managed the nearly impossible of curbing inflation while not plunging the economy into a recession. That many of the same people who voted to secure reproductive health rights in their states also voted for the man who tore those rights away.

The reality is that we're going to have to deal with a second Trump presidency, coupled with a stacked Supreme Court that already ruled that he has unlimited power, and a Senate that will approve anything he asks for. We're going to have Elon Musk poking his fingers into all aspects of our government. We're going to have RFK Jr. meddling in our healthcare systems and making his conspiracy theories public policy. And it's going to suck.

So we've got a few weeks before the nightmare begins. Take some time to get yourself mentally strong again. Do some things that give you pleasure. Hold your family (the ones who haven't been sucked into the MAGA cult) close. Cuddle your pets. Cry if you need to. Because once January comes around, the work starts again.

If Republicans can ever be counted on to do anything, it's to overreach. That first year is going to be horrific. But knowing Trump and the Republicans, they can be counted on to go too far. And we will have to fight back. It's going to be hard and might seem pointless, but it's vital. That small percentage that shifted the election is going to suffer alongside us. They will have to hurt before they recognize that they made the wrong choice. And it's going to be marching and protesting again. It's going to mean confrontations and challenging the powers that be. And it's more important now than ever before.

After one year, we then have the midterm elections, where we can really turn things around. More Republicans in the Senate will be defending seats, giving us the opportunity to regain it. The House will also be up for grabs. In less than two years, we can completely hamstring Trump and curb his administration. But that's going to mean not giving into despair and fighting back. We have to hold fast.

We have history books full of what happens when citizens allow a tyrant to give in to his worst impulses without challenge. I refuse to be another example of that. I would rather fight and lose than have future generations wonder why I just gave in.

[smallestapplin]

My god I love your harem universe. Especially the Autobots and Decepticons having little piss fights over their precious human!

Now I’m just imagining poor Thundercracker and his “secret” crush on the human and how infatuated he is. Like a big love sick puppy

I can see him trying to shyly woo the human, possibly finding out where the human lives (from Skywarp cuz he couldn’t keep his mouth shut from his trine), sneaking over at night when they’re sleeping and doing something cheesy like throwing pebbles (small rocks) at their window to get their attention.

Poor guy probably fumbles and is blushing and he would just be so darn cute trying to ask the human out!!

I love thundercracker so much, thank you for this.

-

-

Thundercracker knew he shouldn't be here, he knew it well too, if the autobots won't have his head then the other decepticons would, the very thought should stop him in his tracks.

But here he stands just outside your habsuite, he's not sure what humans call it, but it looks nice, and is further away from town so he won't run into more humans, just you. Just you is all he wants, yes he's seen the footage Laserbeak caught, yes he watched it over and over and over again, imagining him as your lover.

Yet his spark yearned for something more.

You seemed so sweet, so funny, so considerate, that maybe, just maybe he'd have a chance with you, you already have s bunch of lovers, what's one more, right? He couldn't face you, but what could he give to make you know he wanted you?

Each morning when you'd awake, ready to head back to the autobot base, there would be quite the gift waiting for you.

First it was a big thing of energon, something you couldn't drink, though you've tried.

Next it was a massive geo cluster that had you in awe, you could barely manage to get it into your house, it was half the size of you! Next were some large sunflowers, root, dirt, and all on your porch.

A part of you wondered if you should ask around base, but maybe that would ruin the surprise? Or maybe it'll get them paranoid that someone else wants you, you don't feel threatened so you don't mention it.

It's not every night, but it's every other weekend, so it makes you wonder what their schedule is like.

Thundercracker can't believe himslef, he's like a sparkling all over again! When had his spark last pumped like this? The nervousness that ate away at his confidence, his anxiety rising each time he snuck away from the ship, and landed a little ways away from your habsuite, just as he's done every other weekend.

Walking as quietly as he could, making sure the groun beneath him crunched very little, he made his way up your driveway, ready to place yet another gift of flowers at your doorstep. His red optics look around, stopping when he saw the other flowers he gave you planted in your front yard.

You liked them! His wings twitch behind him, fluttering happily, he can't stop the smile forming on his face plate.

He looks at the very delicate flowers in his servos, the plants nearly as tall as the last bunch he gave you, but in reds, purples, and pinks, maybe you'd like the variety more? He hopes, he can already feel his spark racing.

Thundercracker carefully lays the flowers on your porch, making sure they are neat and out of the way so you won't step on them. He leans back eyeing his work, pleased with himself.

Your planet has many weird resources, but he's happy to have found something you liked! Normally on cybertron he would've found and gifted you shiny metals, or maybe even rare ones.

He wonders for a moment if you'd like an aerial show, and let him show off for you? Nah, that's too much, at least for right now-

"So you're the one leaving gifts for me."

You have to bite back a laugh as the giant bot jumps, flinching at the sound of your voice. His optics wide and staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. There you stand on your roof, in your sleep wear, with a tired smile.

Thundercracker tries to control himself, but little does he know he wings are giving him away, shaking as he calms himself.

"Oh..I..uhh..I didn't mean to wake ya?"

His face plate is heating up, flushing a deep blue from the energon going to his helm.

"You didn't wake me up, I was staying up in hopes to catch you. I was wondering who was leaving me these things."

Oh Primus, he made you miss a rest cycle? Frag, he feels so bad.

"Thank you."

.....huh?

You smile once more, chuckling at his baffled expression.

"Thank you for the gifts, it's very sweet of you, Thundercracker."

You wish you could take a picture with his stiff his body gets, how his wings wiggle up and down, and just how adorable such a normally intimating con could be.

You knew his name, you remembered him! That means you think of him, right? He could melt right where he stood, he could offline right now and die happy.

"Don't mention it." He carefully sits down on yout lawn, allowing his face to be more level with yours, "On Cybertron it was common practice, mostly for us seekers, to gift items like this."

"To start a courtship, I take it?"

You can't hold back laughing now, nearly wheezing at how he sputters and trips over his words trying to explain no but yes, but also-

"How did you-"

"Wild guess, but your reaction was too cute."

He's going to die, this is how it ends for him, the cute human he's taken with flirting with him.

"I wouldn't mind."

Truly you wouldn't, you know your agreement with the autobots, they all agreed to be your lovers and not fight over who else you date, but you'll have to have a talk with them about at least Thundercracker.

He seems so sweet under that gruff exterior.

Even if such a big scary con shakes under getting a few compliments.

[minolikeswords]

Perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone- Jing Yuan x GN! Reader

cw: death, sad Jing Yuan, Jing Yuan is a sweetie, mention of pet death, angst, marriage, hurt/mild comfort???? Lmk if I missed anything <3

wc: 873 words

Mino’s notes: willed this into existence while staring at my own worn rings in the shower lmao. I hope you like it <3

Jing Yuan was not a sentimental man. Throughout his very long life, he’d learned to let go of small attachments. He lived in the moment. The present and the present only, his past had haunted him for long and his future was in his palms. So there was just the present.

Besides, the general was often too tired to even pay mind to most matters of his past. Yet it slipped out sometimes, in small, barely noticeable items he had around him. Snowmoon’s red collar placed on a shelf by his desk, he’d rub the golden bell hanging from it every morning. A silent greeting to a pet (family) long gone. Pictures thrown deep within his closet he’d find maybe once a month while cleaning, letters and mementos from friends he’d lost and friends he rarely saw anymore.

But his favourite keepsake?

A shiny, golden, nearly perfect (though he’d agree it was already) ring that he kept around his neck. One he kissed many times while working. Polished every week. It lay directly over his heart most times. A reminder of who he once had and loved with all his being.

Jing Yuan liked you since you started working with him. Witty, smart, easy going, fun and always eager to learn. He found himself smitten in a few months alone, finding any excuse to keep you near him. You gave him hope.

It was great, you were both happy. He doesn’t know when it started, maybe he’d realized how fragile humans were? Maybe he’d realized how easy it was to hurt you, how easily you got sick. He didn’t know what to do, and it tore him apart.

“I already know I won’t live as long as you, ‘Yuan,” you murmured, your fingers rubbing his scalp as he sat between your legs in the shower. Jing Yuan let out a soft and irritated noise at that.

“It doesn’t bother you? You aren’t frightened?” Bright yellow eyes stared up at you and you smiled at him. He’s never seen a smile like yours since. Even then it made his chest tighten and his heart stutter. You lean down and kiss his forehead.

“It scares me every day, my love. But right now, I am here, and we are together. Is that not what matters?” You whisper against his hair, taking in his smell. Truth be told it terrified you. Jing Yuan knew it as well as you did, someone who lived as long as him was not ignorant to how death loomed over all.

But now, you were here, in his arms, where he could hold you and love you.

“I’ll love you always, you know that right?” He said suddenly, gazing at you as you read. Your head resting on his chest and his hands brushing through it. You smile amusedly, turning to look at your lover.

“I could never ask that of you. It is selfish.”

He hummed, the corners of his mouth turned upwards, “you’re the only one I get to be selfish with, so allow me to indulge, my dove.”

Jing yuan now rests against his chair in his office. Hands idly fidgeting with his own ring, the gold worn from the decades of use. He rarely ever took it off, a fear of losing it. He missed you, he couldn’t wait to visit you today.

It was your birthday. Normally he’d decorate your whole house to surprise you when you returned, set up candles, rose petals, set up a table for dinner and cook a meal for you both. Today? He was going to drop by the bakery and pick up your favourite sweets.

He didn’t like them very much, and you always insisted that you didn’t either. Yet, without fail, he’d get them for you every week, and yet, without fail, you’d wake up at night, slip out from besides him and eat as many as you could without getting sick. Never questioning where they kept coming from even when you both knew.

The bakery stood the same all the years you were together. The lady behind the counter smiling as he picked up a box, a flower taped to the top, “for the spouse, general?” She asked politely, and Jing Yuan nodded, “no one but.”

He walked to the cemetery that day. It was chilly out and you would’ve enjoyed the weather, grabbed his hand and laughed and pulled him along with you. Looking up at the sky and wondering if it would’ve rained. Oh how you loved the rain and how he loved watching you.

Your gravestone greeted him the same as it did everyday. Some people would say it was overkill to visit everyday, but it wasn’t. Not for Jing Yuan. He couldn’t get enough of you. He placed the box on your grave, fingers brushing against the cold stone, over your name. Eyes stinging with tears that your hands couldn’t wipe away. He smiled all the same and sat down on the dirt, opening the box and pulling a sweet out and taking a bite as he began to tell you about his day.

“I will see you soon, someday, Dove. Until then, allow me to be a little selfish for a while longer.”

[hford0311]

In my silence I adored you

*Avenger's Tower Fanfic*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Hey girl, what-cha doing down there? Dancing alone while I live right above you; I can hear your music playing; I can feel your body swaying

It didn't take a super soldier to hear the music that came out of your apartment. However, the one above you did understand the lyrics, not like most of the others that lived in the tower. He didn't mind it, sometimes, it became a soothing thing when the nightmares woke him up. The vibrations of the music and lyrics gave him was a micro-confirmation that he was no longer in the Soviet Union. No longer trapped under any ice.

"Okay, but how come you can't go one day without it?" Sam asked about your music during breakfast. You shrugged, "I have my space. It mostly stays in my space. Just like Redwing." Bucky snickered. Sam slightly aggressively turned towards his best friend-enemy man. "You live above her! What are your thoughts?" Bucky was slightly started by the question. "I-I don't mind it." You stuck your tongue out at Sam, putting your dishes in sink, and walked away. "You said you only like forties music." Sam accused as soon as you were out of ear shot. Bucky avoided eye contact before he cleared his throat, "I have to train with Steve."

One floor below me, you don't even know me, I love you

When that and a combination of other things didn't work, keep falling back into night terrors, Bucky would sit in front of his glass windows, curtains pulled back. At first, his eyes would wander the city lights. Eventually, his eyes would shift down below and see your shadow swaying and dancing to the music that was nearly never ending. It was a constant, consistency made reality easier to believe in. You were starting to become that in Bucky's word, even though you never would've known. He never mentioned it.

If you look out your window tonight, pulling the string with the note that's attached to my heart; Read how many times I saw you, how in my silence I adored you.

Sure, Bucky and you met occasionally during missions and Avengers' (aka Tony Stark's) parties. However, neither of you ever got beyond glances, brief introductions, and the incredibly rare argument-- sorry polite conversation-- that Steve, Sam, or Nat would drag the pair of you into. Both of you would roll your eyes at the dragger and their "opponent." Plus, the pair of you would almost always be against whatever Sam was arguing. Bucky appreciated the team effort from you. You were also a bit of a history buff which sometimes led to his ears pricking up to some type of familiarity that he could confidently nod along with or it would help him connect the dots with events that didn't include the Winter Soldier.

It took one of these little rantings of knowledge you had, Steve and Sam saw the captivated look that Bucky distantly gave you. They both also knew it wasn't just the words coming out of your mouth that Bucky was interested in, either. The pair of men shared an look. They knew their mission.

"Alright boys, it's been fun." You said getting up, heading towards your apartment. "Don't have too much fun without me." You waved as you hit the stairs.

The duo of men encircled Bucky. "You have a problem." Same stated as if it was obvious and something much worse than actuality. "Sam-" Steve tried to soften the blow. "No, he is in love with that girl and he hasn't said more than five words to her." Sam insisted. Bucky gave them both a confused stare. "Y/n, Buck, we can tell." Steve cleared up. Bucky's face went to complete denial. "No, I don't."

"Those eyes you gave her earlier tell a different story, Buck." Steve softly argued. Bucky groaned and put his hands in his face. "So what if I do? She's living a happy life...why.....why should I enter it more just to ruin it?" Sam and Steve gave each other soft looks. However, both of them were not going to give up that easily. "You're different now. You've said it yourself, you're not the Winter Soldier anymore." Sam stated. "Even if that's true...who said that she's going to....want me back." Doubt filled Bucky's entire body and mind. The pair of men were not going to change his mind in one night.

Only in my dreams did that wall between us come apart

Another night, Bucky added to looking down at your shadow. He wanted to go down and dance with you. Over seventy years ago, Bucky wouldn't waste another second to do. He would've swept you off your feet, literally. He would hold you close during the slower songs, inhaling your scent. Softly kissing your forehead, cheeks, lips... Bucky heavily sighed out loud, walking away from the window.

Oh my darlin', knock three times on the ceiling if you want me; twice on the pipe if the answer is no.

Sam and Steve showed up at your door. You gave them both a confused. "Come in...stop lurking at my door." You responded, letting them in. "So, how long have you liked Bucky?" Sam got straight to the point. You scoffed and slouched in one of your chairs. "Who said-" "Y/n, you never mentioned your knowledge about your so-called fascination with the 1930s before your first mission with him." Steve confronted you. You shrugged, "A girl can learn new things." Sam rolled his eyes. "They're both impossible, Steve." You sat up a little. "What do you mean by both of us?" For the third time that night, Sam and Steve shared a smirk and an idea.

Oh my sweetness *knock, knock, knock* means you'll meet me in the hallway; twice on the pipe *clang, clang* means you ain't gonna show*

You hummed the song you left playing in your room as you approached Bucky's door. You took a deep breath before knocked with the beat that Bucky could perfectly hear from your apartment below. He hesitantly answered. Then saw you, a small smile etched across his face. "It means that I want you, and that I want to meet you in the hallway-- granted next time it'll be on the ceiling but-" Your breath of words was stopped short by Bucky pulling you into his apartment.

~~ Sam looked at Steve, stifling a laugh, "There isn't really a pipe for her to say no to."

[elexuscal]

lay down neither your heads nor your swords

summary: Temeraire's bill does not pass. Laurence consoles him. (read on ao3) -------------------

Though it had been almost four years since the end of the war, there still was not many spaces within London which would fit a dragon of his size. He could have retired in Hyde Park, but that would have been exposed to the public, and he very much did not wish to face them, just now. Even here, in the London covert, having so many friends and acquaintances flying by constantly, their voices a babble, was nearly too much.

Thankfully, his mood must have been plain from how he laid sprawled on the cold flat stone ground, his ruff drooping, his eyes half-lidded. No one tried to speak to him, nor tried to bother him.

Almost no one.

There came the soft padding noise of boots upon the flagstone. Temeraire did not turn towards them.

"My dear, will you not come eat? I will admit to prevailing myself upon the cook, and it was one of your favourites— braised beef on rice, with those Incan chilies you are so partial to—"

"I am not hungry," Temeraire said.

Laurence's hand came to rest upon his muzzle, a bloom of warmth which somehow always seemed larger than it was. "I am sorry, Temeraire," he said. "It was a painful defeat, to be sure, even if not wholly unexpected. But—"

"No!" Temeraire exclaimed, interrupting, raising his head at last, ruff erect. "No buts! This loss should not have been expected, no matter what you all say. It should not have happened at all!"

Laurence's face was filled with horrible sympathy. "My dear--"

"Our bill was excellent," Temeraire pressed on. "Not perfect, surely, we made concessions; certainly, we made concessions! But nonetheless, the core of it was unaltered— That core was well-crafted—

It would have made material improvements across such a vast swathe of policies. For women, for immigrants, for dragons, for the poor—"

"I know," Laurence said.

"No one could have voted against it! No one of any sense, at least!" And then he drooped; his head, his tail, his body entire. "But they did vote against it. Even Pertinax, and he is a dragon." That, more than anything, baffled Temeraire, baffled him so badly that betrayal was a distant second emotion. He had thought— it had seemed obvious— that having more dragons in Parliment ought to strengthen their coalition.

Laurence stepped closer, until his entire side was pressed against Temeraire's chest. Temeraire could not see him at such an angle, but that made the conversation somehow easier. "Men do not always vote according to what will bring the most material benefit to the greatest number or the most deserving. They vote in accordance to their own interests, or that of their friends, and do not look very far past their own noses, I am afraid." He sighed. "And even those who do so without any true selfishness or malice, may nonetheless vote out of ignorance, or upon gut feeling, and in doing so cut off their own nose to spite the face."

Temeraire growled, and could not even make himself fully dampen the resonance of the divine wind within it. "Then they are fools."

To this, Laurence had no answer and no argument.

They stood like that for a long while. Laurence still and solemn, Temeraire staring forward, his only movement the lashing of his tail.

It could have been a minute; it could have been fifteen— Temeraire did not know. But he said, "What now?"

"We— we take stock," Laurence said. "We take time to recover; today, tomorrow, perhaps even a week. Then we return to the drawing board. Re-word the Bill, or begin drafting a new one entirely. Reach out to our constituents, make arrangements with our allies, and institute what improvements we can, in those spheres where we still have influence." He hesitated, and said, "As you well know, it was a long, hard political battle against the slave trade. With each loss, it seemed the wind threatened to desert the movement's sails. But my Father never gave up, nor his allies, and eventually, they prevailed."

Temeraire peered down at Laurence, somewhat concerned, for he had never liked to speak much upon his father; even less so, since his death. But on this one subject, the two had no quarrelled, and there was no grief in his companion's eyes, only steel. "Yes," Temeraire said, slowly.

"And, if I may—" Laurence ran his hand down the length of Temeraire's forelimb, hesitating. "If I may. I was never in the House of Parliament, nor the House of Lords, nor any other similar office. But if I had, then a decade ago, I have good reason to believe... I have good reason to believe the man I was then would have voted against your Bill." "Laurence," Temeraire said, and though he very much wished to argue, he did not. He recalled how queer Laurence had been, without his memories, and spoken on the subject, once or twice, with Tharkay, and with Granby. He had been a very difference person, once, before Temeraire had hatched.

For a moment, Laurence hung his head. "I am ashamed to say it. Ashamed to even think upon it." But then he looked up. "But my opinions have shifted; and shifted for the better, I do think. Let me stand as hope that anyone's perspective can be so transformed, if only given the correct knowledge and support."

Stretching out his neck, Temeraire nuzzled against Laurence's body. "If that is true, then let us be the ones who give it."

Again they stood, embraced, for some time. Temeraire did not wish to think, but still the thoughts came. There could be no outrunning them.

Nor the pains in his stomach. "I suppose I must eat, after all," he said, though his mouth felt leaden.

"Yes," Laurence said. "Please do, my dear." So Temeraire did. And despite everything, the chilies were still very fine.

[ahyperactivehero]

I asked over on twitter if anyone wanted any drabbles this election night and here is the first one i finished!

atfsims1 on twitter asked for: If you wanted to do a cozy game night fic with Charles, Edwin, Crystal, and Niko (maybe they even rope Jenny into it) I would not be upset at all 👀💜

Drabble 1 Game Night

“Jenny isn’t coming, Niko,” Crystal said.The game boxes in her arms shifted, threatening to spill all over the ground for the second time this walk.

Niko, either oblivious to this fact or enjoying Crystal’s suffering, sighed and marched ahead of her so she could turn and walk backwards while speaking to her. “She’s coming. I know she is because I asked and she only rolled her eyes twice,” she said, her tone more sure than Crystal felt like she should be.

“Oh, so practically an oath then,” she said, shrugging her bag up higher on her shoulder. “Jeez, why do they need all of these? Don’t they have enough games in the office?”

She’d only been walking for a couple of blocks now, but it felt much further with all of these games stacked in her arms. Candy Land, Trouble, Aggravation, BattleShips, and at least one version of Cluedo were piled high– far higher than they had any right to be. At least Niko had their drinks safe in her arms, even if she did keep taking “samples” from both of them.

“Charles said we’re going to be playing ‘Extravaganza’,” Niko said, waving her hands in a way that Crystal felt deserved sparkles and explosions.

“And what exactly is ‘Extravaganza’?” Crystal asked.

Niko tilted her head, sneaking a sip from what Crystal was sure was her drink. “He didn’t say. Just that we needed to bring over as many board games as possible,” she said.

“Who even still plays board games?” Crystal muttered. “Do you know how much I spent on these?”

Niko tapped her chin with her straw. “Edwin likes them, and Charles gets frustrated with the new video games,” she said, frowning. As if Crystal hadn’t personally witnessed Charles losing at Mario Party in such an extreme fashion that had forced the Agency to close for two days because he and Edwin had refused to speak to Crystal when she’d won with the bonus stars. “But I’m sorry you had to spend so much. I could have helped!”

She shook her head. The last thing she wanted was for Niko to feel bad. “Used my parents' money. They might as well be good for something, right?”

Niko gave her a sympathetic smile before running ahead to get the door. At least the boys were there to meet them to help them carry the boards up.

“Is this all you brought?” Edwin asked, which earned him a glare from Crystal and an elbow from Charles.

“What he means is that we’re used to playing with more boards,” Charles said. A small frown came to his face as he tilted his head, thinking about his words. “Unfortunately, a lot of ours burned up a couple of years ago. Like, a lot of them.” 

“They burned up?” Niko asked, taking her usual spot on the couch. 

“Spell gone wrong,” Charles said. “Edwin nearly set the whole office on fire.”

“Charles is exaggerating,” Edwin said. “It was only half of the office.”

Crystal smiled and rolled her eyes. “Right. So what did we need all of these for?”

Edwin clapped his hands together. He looked as if he had gathered them for a lecture rather than a game night. “Extravaganza, of course,” he said.

Crystal plopped down next to Niko, snagging her drink from her before she could take another sip. “Yeah, I got that. But what is it?”

Charles spread out a blanket on the floor and tossed a few pillows off to one side. With a smile, he patted them and gestured for the girls to take their places. Then, he dragged out at least three more board games, their boxes so old and broken it made it hard to read the name. They must have been old, probably somewhere between Edwin and Charles’s time.

Meticulously, he started to arrange the boards, clearly some sort of pattern than only he and Edwin seemed to know. Edwin, meanwhile, walked around and dimmed the lights and grabbed blankets for them to cover up with.

By the time he was done it looked like some sort of weird, Frankenstein-game-board train had exploded all over their office. Crystal wasn’t even sure where the games were supposed to start or end. 

“Ta-da!” Charles said, smiling as he spread his hands out over the mess. 

Niko and Crystal couldn’t help but exchange confused glances.

“Edwin and I made it up decades ago,” he said. “S’hard to play a lot of these games with just two people, innit? So we made Extravaganza!” He reached into his bag and dug out tiny, metal game pieces and held them out for their inspection.

There was a magnifying glass and cricket bat– clearly Edwin and Charles’s– in one hand, while the other contained a crystal ball and a magic eight ball. 

“You made us our own game pieces?” Niko asked, her excitement practically exploding out.

“Course! How else are you meant to play?” he asked. He settled down next to Edwin at what must have been deemed the “starting” board.

Crystal eyed everything. “So how do you play?” she asked and tried in vain to keep her judgment out of her tone.

“First, we start with Cluedo,” Edwin said, “then, once you think you have solved it, you can move to CandyLand, and so on and so forth until you have been through all the boards.”

None of that had made it any clearer to Crystal, but she had a feeling that pointing that out wouldn’t save her from playing.

“How long does a game like this usually take?” Niko asked, running her fingers over the magic eight ball. 

Edwin looked towards the ceiling, calculating. “Usually about… ten hours?” 

“Ten hours!” Crystal said, almost dropping her game piece. Quickly, she turned towards Niko, who had a similar look on her face. “I think we’re gonna need to order food,” she muttered towards her.

“I’ll tell Jenny to bring something.” Niko pulled out her phone to type out a message.

“Niko, I told you, she’s not coming,” Crystal said. 

“She’ll have no choice if we’ve been kidnapped by ghosts who don’t need to sleep or eat,” Niko said with a smile. “There, all done. Now, how do we play?”

Edwin immediately launched into a full explanation of the rules he and Charles had established over the years. There were far too many, especially for new players who still needed to learn the rules of the base games as well.

“It’ll be easier once we start,” Charles said. “Oh! But just remember, if you claim someone is cheating, you have to go back a board.”

“What if they are cheating?” Crystal asked.

“Better prove it,” he said and handed her a pair of dice.

And that is where Jenny found them an hour later, yelling over whether or not accusing Crystal of “looking into Charles’s mind” to see the cards in his hands actually counted as cheating if no one had actually said the word cheating.

“I think I’m just gonna go,” Jenny said, dropping a couple of pizza boxes on the table by the door.

Niko sprang up from her spot and wrapped her arms around her. “No, please stay! You can even start on the same board as me!”

“Niko, that’s cheating,” Edwin said.

“Ha!” Crystal jabbed a finger in Edwin’s direction. “Now you have to go backwards.”

“That was outside the game,” Edwin said, “It hardly counts.” 

“What? No, that's not fair,” she said, turning to look at Charles who shrugged.

“It’s fine if you’re talking outside the game.”

“You always agree with Edwin. And isn’t my ‘looking in your head’ also outside the game, technically?” she asked.

“So you did look inside his head!” Edwin said. “Move your piece back!”

Charles shook his head as they continued to shout, their voices mingling until it was nothing but a mix of confusion. He detangled himself from the pile of blankets and limbs to make his way across the room. “Here ya go, Jenny,” he said and dropped a game piece shaped like a cleaver in her hand. “You can go next.”

Both Edwin and Crystal turned their heads towards him. “That’s cheating!”

Charles and Niko could only smile in response.

[unoislazy]

Sneak Peak?

(Arthur Morgan x reader)

Because it’s been so long since I’ve written I feel like I’ve lost my touch a bit. I’m gonna leave a snippet of something I’ve written so far and I would like to know how you guys feel about it!!

Context: Childhood friends to lovers

“I’m in a lot of trouble right now.” He said, nearly out of breath as he grabbed your hand desperately. You stared at him for a moment, trying to process what he was saying as you tried to string together a proper sentence.

“You’ll be alright, right? You always make it out okay.” You said optimistically. The boy in-front of you gave you a charming smile. He had just shown up on your doorstep, which was no different than normal but this time he was winded and bleeding… Your concern was evident through the farrowing of your eyebrows and the worry in your eyes, but you dared not voice them, not now.

“You know I do, but… I don’t think we can stay here for much longer.” He replied, looking back over his back as if he was being watched. You too looked over his back trying to see if you could make out any figures in the area behind him, but to you there was not a soul in sight.

“We?” You asked, taken aback. It was almost as if you had only then processed his words as you took your attention off the empty area of dirt and leaves behind the boy and turned to once again meet his striking blue eyes.

“Me and the gang, we got into some issues with the law and I only have a few hours before I have to go.” He explained. You knew this was going to happen eventually, but even so you still didn’t feel as if you prepared yourself well enough for this day to come.

“Before you leave… I want you to take this.” You quickly grabbed a letter that you had stored in your drawer, in preparation for this day. “I don’t want you to open it until you’re gone, okay?” To that, the boy nodded.

“I promise you I’ll come back to you.”

And with a swift kiss on the forehead, and longing goodbyes, he was gone. That was the last you had seen or heard of the boy named “Arthur Morgan” for quite some time.

Many years had passed at this point and whilst you had never forgotten that boy, you had a strong feeling he had forgotten about you. Or worse.

But it was no concern of yours now, you were grown now. There was no point in delving into the “what ifs” of your childish fantasy. You still lived in the same old house, living a quiet life. A boring yet decent one, you didn’t know why you stayed. You had everything you’d need to leave and lead a more eventful life.

However, deep down you knew why you stayed.

You stayed for him.

On the off chance that that boy would find his way back to you. That he would come back and keep the promise he made to you all those years ago. But the other side of you knew, that was never gonna happen.

Your internal argument continued until you heard a knock on your door.

You brushed off your hands from the residue left over from whatever task you had found yourself partaking in before turning to get the door. You didn’t often get visitors but when you did it was usually just one of your neighbors or a family friend coming to check up on you. So with that expectation in mind, you walked towards the door and grabbed the handle with confidence, twisting and yanking it open with ease while saying your greetings to who you thought would be,

“Mrs. Baker I told you last time, I don’t need any more b-”

You cut your sentence short as your eyes quickly landed upon, not the older woman you expected, but a younger man. He was quite tall and he looked to be about your age, and despite his rough appearance he stood on your porch as awkwardly as a school boy in the front of a class.

“Oh, I’m sorry I thought you were someone else, how can I help you?” You asked, deciding it was best to find out what this man was here for. Upon further inspection, you realized there was a strange nostalgic quality to his face. You couldn’t quite place it before but it felt as if you had seen this man once before.

“I.. uh…” The man started, before he quickly turned towards his satchel and began to dig through it. It didn’t take long for him to grab a thin envelope out and display it. It was clearly opened but a name was visible on the front. “Is there anyone here by this name?” He asked.

You curiously looked towards the envelope and noticed…

It was your name.

Your eyebrows scrunched as you looked from the envelope to the man holding it once again. Why would this man be asking for you…?

It was then you took a closer look at him, he was quite tan, his hair was a gorgeous brown and his eyes…

His eyes

“Arthur…?” You whispered. It couldn’t be.

“How do you know my…” The man before her looked at her with a puzzled look before it quickly clicked with him. How could he not recognize you? Sure it had been several years since he had been back but he prided himself on being able to memorize your features.

Unfortunately the memory betrays one no matter how hard they try to defy it.

[siderealscribblings]

99 Years, 11 Months, 28 Days

"No! No, you didn't say she would be here!" Yae Miko hissed, hiding behind Neuvillette's shoulder as a young woman in brown who definitely hadn't been there before grinned at her. "I did not agree to come down here with that demon woman !" 

The demon woman in question was barely taller than Furina, a gangly creature who looked to be more hair and sharp grinning teeth than a person. The glint in her eye gave Neuvillette pause, as though it might suddenly leap out and spark a fire. On her fingers sparkled a few dozen rings studded with glowing golden lapis that clackled as she waved at Miko. 

"Hiiiiiiiiiiii there Miko~" Hu Tao said to the suddenly terrified kitsune. "What's it been, a hundred and twenty years?"

"Not long enough!" Miko hissed, ears and tail puffing up like an angry cat. "Not nearly long enough!"  

"Who… how did you get in here?!" Neuvillette demanded, glaring at Zhongli. "Did she come with you ?" 

"If you want to be pedantic, I came here with her ," Zhongli shrugged. "Traveling across the continent is no small feat without a psychopomp to ease the passage." 

"And I've been here the whole time," Hu Tao sighed. "You held the door for me ; looked right through me . But nobody ever pays attention to death until it's staring them right in the face." 

"Death?" Neuvillette echoed. "What do you mean death?" 

"Forgive me, this is Hu Tao…better known by her adeptus name as the Unbound Flame," Zhongli said, watching Neuvillette's expression darken. "I take it you are familiar with her office as a chief reaper of souls, mortal and divine?" 

This is the Unbound Flame?! Neuvillette thought. Since his run in with Rex Lapis a few years back, he had spent hours reading up on the Geo Archon's exploits over the years in case they ever tangled again. As death followed war, the Unbound Flame followed Rex Lapis, a capricious little trickster goddess credited with everything from the invention of poetry to the final defeat of Osial's wicked cultists. A formidable force…who Neuvillette expected to be taller or at least look older than a fresh-faced university student. Even after so many years with Furina, it was hard to believe that power could live in such small packages. 

"Anyone who has studied the Archon Wars knows about the Unbound Flame," Neuvillette said quietly. 

"Then you know that no one understands death better," Zhongli said. "And if there is a way to speak with the departed souls of these men, she knows it." 

"Normally I'd let the dead rest, but something tells me these poor fools aren't sleeping quietly just yet," Hu Tao said, leaning in to inspect the corpses closer. "Do you know how they died?" 

Neuvillette glanced at Zhongli who just nodded. "They complained of pain and the gardes that found them said they started swelling suddenly. Further examination reveals their organs all ruptured as they were suffused with a lethal amount of Hydro energy. How that Hydro energy got there, I cannot say. " 

"Aiya, that's a bad way to go," Hu Tao clucked, running her fingers over the dead men's necks with the practiced ease of the world's oldest undertaker. "Osial had water snakes that would swim in rivers and bite our soldiers during the Archon War. They puffed up like this…but it usually took them hours to die. And then there are these weird tattoos."

Hu Tao traced her finger along the slimy tattoo, wiping her fingers as Hydro clung to them. "If we're not dumb enough to send assassins with Milleleth feathers, Focalors isn't dumb enough to brand our soldiers with her sigil before killing them." 

"So what did?" Neuvillette demanded. "Do you have some way to speak with the dead?" 

"Oh she does ," Miko hissed. "She just loves pulling spirits out of the threshold between worlds to torture people for her sick pleasure!" 

"You know, for someone who likes to mess with people as much as you do, I thought you'd be able to take one little joke with a little more grace," Hu Tao clucked. 

"I was lost in the forest for three days convinced that I had fallen into a plane of the Abyss!" Miko snapped. "You chased me around disguised as a giant vishap and convinced the tanuki that I was their lost queen and needed to be kidnapped for my own safety!" 

"...like I said, one joke." 

"I don't mean to interrupt," Neuvillette said, though that was exactly what he meant. "But there is a small matter of national security we need to deal with." 

"Now that is a small matter," Hu Tao sighed. " National security always struck me as an oxymoron like jumbo shrimp or living dead. As soon as you secure the stupid thing, it goes and gets itself insecure all over again." 

"You don't say?" Neuvillette said, his limited social graces already stretched to their breaking point. "Can you speak with the spirits of these dead men or can't you ?" 

Read More...

Chapter 1

[lediz-watches]

Oxventure

Because dammit, I need to smile today and no one makes me smile more than these people.

Oxventure is an amazing group of people that play tabletop roleplaying games on youtube and spotify. They are Chaotic Good in the best way possible.

And I think we all need more chaotic good in our lives today.

Okay, first off, I must show my colours: I have been watching their parent channel Outside Xbox almost since it began, and they are actually why I got a Youtube Premium account (Youtube, you owe these people more than 2/3rds of my subscription). They are my background noise. So obviously I'm biased, but this post is about the Oxventure channel and why I love it.

Lately, they've been marketing themselves as an actual play channel, technically rivalling Critical Role, but I don't like to think of them like that. To me, Oxventure is more storytelling improv that happens to use tabletop mechanics as a prop. And the reason that's an important distinction is because Oxventure is at its best when it's being silly.

So. Some background.

Oxventure is, in alphabetical order, Andy, Ellen, Jane, Johnny, Luke, and Mike, and a host of guests when they feel the need. It began as a one-off milestone celebration on Outside Xbox where everyone but Mike (he had a Car Thing) played Dungeons and Dragons--most of them for literally the first time--on camera. Since then, it has expanded into its own channel with six series of varying prominence and many one-shots.

If you want to see them at their most condensed and I would argue truest form, I recommend DnD but everyone is a Kobold.

Their shows can run the full gambit from silly (the kobold shows) to high adventure (Oxventure Blades in the Dark) to wholesome (Tea-Time Adventures) to absurd (DnD but it's Pokemon) to emotional body-slams (Oxventure Deadlands) to quietly creepy (Oxventure Wyrdwood). But at its core, whatever series you're watching, Oxventure is about friends gathering together to have fun as they make their way in a world that seems a bit insane.

The original game/series/what have you is The Oxventurers Guild, which remains my favourite. Their motto (seen in Latin above) is "Everyone Should Have Thought Of Everything", meaning that they have a habit of just diving into things without thinking and then being shocked Pikachus when the consequences arrive.

The characters (and world) are a mess, but the thing that was most wonderful is that the group were learning how to play DnD on screen. They screwed up the rules, they lost dice, they forgot about feats... a running gag is that Mike, playing a paladin, has only the loosest concept of his own abilities and will randomly read his character sheet to discover something that would have been useful last session. Meanwhile Ellen made arguably the most powerful character, with what should have been one of the most powerful spells, and yet was the first knocked out in their PVP session because of a few unlucky rolls.

Johnny is an amazing first-time DM, too, because they just... let the group play. They run with the rules until the rules stop being fun. And that's what makes Oxventure so enjoyable for me.

I remember trying to watch a few Actual Plays after the first episode of Oxventure, and I can remember the exact moment I checked out. It was when a player made a joke, and the DM gave her a very direct Look and firmly informed her that if she didn't immediately take it back, there would be mechanical consequences.

Compare and contrast Johnny, whose attempt to show the Oxventurers Actions Have Consequences nearly ended with a bunch of evil skeletons realising that actually, they didn't realise how hard it was to avoid evil consequences so maybe they should cut the players some slack and stop giving such horrible consequence - wait! No! Bad bosses no make skeletons behave!

(We love the Sixty Skeletons, Flaming Skull Foreman, and Skeleton Donkey) (don't ask) (it only kind of makes sense in context)

But that's not all on Johnny - a lot of it comes down to the beautiful muppets that are the original players, and specifically Andy, Jane, and Mike, who have been a chaotic force of good online since they joined together to form Outside Xbox in 2009.

These three, and by extension all of Oxventure, are a little silly, always snarky, incredibly good at what they do but always beset by terrible luck and worse technology. They are also incredibly well-meaning (and hilarious) even when they're actively trying to be horrible (unrelated to this post but PLEASE watch their Hitman videos for further proof of this). And that carries through to their characters, who can be card carrying evil and yet still care so deeply about their friends that you can't help but love them.

An example of their chaotic competence is in an episode of their latest series Wyrdwood. There was a short of Johnny and Producer Zack talking about how Wyrdwood is a very creepy series starring the human equivalent of the Muppets, which is so true, but I would like to draw attention to a specific moment to prove my point:

In this particular episode, Johnny has created a truly terrifying scenario: trapped in mist with music playing beyond their hearing, the team are being picked off one by one despite specific measures to the contrary, until the characters played by the Oxbox trio are alone in oppressive danger. Things look dire. They know they're in trouble and helpless. It's only a matter of time before they're all gone.

They promptly spend the next five minutes flailing, yelling at each other, completely ruin Johnny's nefarious trap, locate their friends, and set themselves up to win the whole day while seemingly focussed entirely on figuring out which of them should be blamed for screwing up.

Even Johnny doesn't seem to know whether to be offended their whole scary vibe was just destroyed or impressed by how effortless the trio made it look, and I feel like that's the correct response.

And I think that's what I love about this series, and these people. They give me a kind of... exasperated hope for all of us.

I have to admit, when I first heard about Wyrdwood and saw the art, I was worried, because I thought Oxventure were going serious. But then, only a few minutes into the first episode, Jane uttered the immortal words 'Luck Pervert' to describe Luke's newest character and I knew we'd be fine.

These people are silly. They tell silly stories.

But they are stories about love, and friendship, and trying even against impossible odds, and making tough choices, and growing as people. All while you and the world around you are a complete mess and everything seems insane. You can still be better, and make the world better, even if it seems like you're just making more of a mess right now.

You watch, and you cringe, and you sigh and call them all 'absolute muppets', and then you cheer as they come up with some insane plan that shouldn't work and yet always, somehow, without rhyme, reason, or explanation... works.

They are silly, and they are heartfelt, and I suspect I will binge-watch the entire channel all over again this Christmas break.

Because while the Oxventurers' motto may be "Everyone should have thought of everything", the fact is no one has. So just go with what you've got.

And it might work out okay.

[eruden-writes]

Intentions - Part 3 (alien x human)

Summary: In the future, humans are nearly universal surrogates and Earth has taken to profiting off the ability. However, while humans can intermix with aliens, it doesn’t mean it’s without complications.

When Taliyra signed up to be a Companion to an alien, she had expectations. Mainly a lot of sex in an attempt to conceive an alien baby. What she didn’t expect was her counterpart to be so distant and - for lack of a better term - relatively hands off. For all intents and purposes, Khravel seems completely disinterested in her and will not hold a discussion to explain why.

After four months of this behavior, she’s had enough. Confronting Khravel, she gives him an ultimatum: either he sits down and talks with her about what the problem is or she’s going back to Proxypanion and requesting a transfer.

---

First - Previous

---

Taking another deep breath, Khravel pushed off from the wall and made his way back to his quarters. He tried to turn his mind toward his work; political machinations, moving finances, potential hiccups in the day-to-day life of the planet. A nagging itch still prickled beneath his fore-thoughts, faint memories of Taliyra’s gasps and movements, the brief feel of her against him, her pleading. His partially sated need sparked through him, already wanting more, but he silenced it.

He was determined not to hurt Taliyra, or anyone, the way he had hurt Avry. And that was the end of it.

—

“Miss Deyva, what a surprise! What brings you to the office wing?” The Tivikonian receptionist roused Taliyra from her mental psyche-up as she approached Khravel’s office. She paused right in front of the reception desk, blinking as she looked to Mx. E’verra.

Unlike the homier styles of the residential wing, the business wing served explicitly functionality. Tall windows lined many of the walls, overlooking the surrounding city and beyond. Constant reminders of what everyone within those walls were working to protect. Screens interspersed on the walls, rotating information including project timelines, schedules, upcoming public events, and accolades for particular employees.

Taliyra had barely realized she had gotten so close – to the point where she had to be buzzed in by the receptionist – since she was going over her script to Khravel.

Focusing on E’verra, she realized they smiled at her in a tense and confused sort of way. Right, she couldn’t just waltz into his workspace. He could be taking a video call or overlooking confidential documentation. The receptionist was sweet and well-mannered, in Taliyra’s experience, though prone to anxiety and stress. Their four hands fidgeted as they stared at her, projecting their numerous worries through actions.

“I’m sorry, I was deep in thought,” Taliyra sighed and shook her head, rubbing her temple. That morning, she had already spent time journey to and discussing options with a case manager at the ProxyPanion office on Tivik. Her mind still sloshed with the details and new questions that the meeting had presented. One thing had not changed. “I need to meet with Khravel.”

“Oh! Delegate Iedro has a meeting in about forty-five minutes, but I’m sure he can squeeze you in before then.” Something in Mx. E’verra loosened and, though their expression waffled between surprised interest to uncertainty, it did settle into something akin to decisiveness. Scurrying back to their desk, they hit a button. The doorway in front of Taliyra buzzed, before humming open. “Go ahead. Three doors down and to the right.”

With a grateful smile to Mx. E’verra, Taliyra strode through the doorway and down the hall. She hadn’t expected it to be difficult to gain access to the more restricted areas. The knowledge she was Khravel’s Companion was well-known and their arrangement gave them much leeway. Which was likely why so many emotions had fluttered over E’verra’s face before letting her through.

It wasn’t long before she found Khravel’s door, his name displayed on the inlaid screen. Beneath his name, the words ‘available’ flickered in various languages. Taliyra hit the touchpad by his door, requesting entry. She held her breath for a second, before another buzz answered and the door slid open.

As Taliyra stepped over the threshold, she eyed his office. It was a large room with a high ceiling and dangling lights. His desk sat at the far end, right in front of a huge shelf inlaid into the wall. Knickknacks, memorabilia, moving photographs, and more filled the shelves. But it was all organized clutter. The whole place was clean, save for his desk where multiple tablets were strewn, along with a huge-to-humans coffee cup. And it infuriatingly smelled like him. She hadn’t quite nailed down the aroma, but it reminded her of coffee and something rich, deep, heady.

Khravel himself sat at ease, his body leaning toward the right where an elbow braced his wait on the chair arm. His other right hand pressed to the side of his face as his upper-left held the tablet and lower-left tapped a rhythm on the other armchair. He was angled in such a way, she could see his long legs were crossed one over the other.

He didn’t even look up from whatever he was reviewing. “Yes?”

Squeezing her hands tighter together, Taliyra willed her voice to remain steady. “I need to talk to you.”

He was not expecting her, of all people. Khravel’s reaction was automatic. His body stilled in such a way, it was as if he was instantly paralyzed from her very words. After a breath, his eyes angled toward her though the rest of him did not move. “What?”

“I need to talk to you,” Taliyra repeated, her hands still folded in front of her. Straightening her back and rooting her stance, his reaction only solidified her resolve.

“It couldn’t wait until later?” He still didn’t move, though he did set his tablet aside. His brain was having a difficult time processing this turn of events. Taliyra was here. This was not her quarters. This was his office. He had a job to do, but she was here. And that stirred something sharp and hot deep within his loins.

Fuck, he had played himself, hadn’t he? He’d conditioned his body to rouse whenever she was around and now that’s how it reacted in her very presence. Even in his office.

“No, it cannot wait,” she bit out the words, though her tone remained professional.

Khravel’s jaw worked back and forth as he and Taliyra locked gazes. He could just send her away, tell her not to bother him during his work time. It would have been that simple. But she set her jaw and leered at him with such determined fire, it was hard not to crumple beneath the look. Heaving a sigh, he grudgingly waved a hand toward the empty chair across from his desk. “What is it?”

Taliyra remained standing, hands still folded in front of her. “I spoke with the local ProxyPanion office, requesting a re-assignment.”

His eyes widened a sliver, but he didn’t say anything. He knew she had gone to the office, simply due to the security detail he had following her whenever she went out, but he’d assumed it was a typical check-in. However, unlike her casual wear or even the nightly gauzy dress, she currently sported a three-piece navy blue dress suit, with deep blue blazer, vest, and skirt coupled with a white button-up. Whatever she had discussed with ProxyPanion representatives, it was not some idling updates.

For the life of him, he couldn’t not imagine how it’d feel to pop the buttons off her vest and blouse, hike her skirt high as he bent her over a desk. Like his body, Khravel clamped down on those thoughts, refusing to let them get further.

“They’ve filed my complaint and said to give them an update in two months. If nothing changes, if I have the same complaints, then they will be reassigning me elsewhere.” She barreled on as guilt pinged through her, watching Khravel’s reaction. Too fucking bad, another part of her thought. He brought this on himself. Which turned her thoughts, and words, toward a curious path. “However, this is the second time a Companion has been reassigned under you which is not a good look for Tivik. According to the representative I spoke to.”

He’d never told her about Avry. He’d assumed Taliyra was simply told. It would make sense to prepare a Companion before shipping them off to an alien planet, right? Judging from her suspicious look, that was not the case. The fact she was his second Companion, and he was one of the few to spearhead Companion industry on Tivik, made his failure with Avry burn all the hotter.

If he lost Taliyra, he would still have a third chance, but after that… well, he’d have to reapply for consideration. Since he was a higher-up, him losing the permission to have a Companion could paint the whole planet poorly. All current Companions on the planet could be revoked. It had happened to other planets, after all. Khravel held himself still again, his mind battling carnal reactions while trying to figure out the best conclusion to this interaction.

“This leads me to believe you are particularly terrible at sex and need lessons or something else is going on here.” Taliyra narrowed her eyes, frustrated at his lack of reaction. Shaking her head, knowing her own anger got the best of her with her earlier words, she sighed, “Either way, we have two months to fix this.”

“What exactly are your complaints?” His fingers returned to tapping, although it was a heavier agitated drum this time. He couldn’t help but stare at her in that dress suit, see himself unbuttoning the vest or hiking that skirt up. An unhelpful path of thought. It wasn’t going to aid him. He tried to shove it aside, only to be met with more intense images of popping the buttons from her blouse and bending her over his very desk.

“The sex is unenjoyable and you refuse to communicate with me.” The heat was rising in the room and she couldn’t be bothered to soften her accusations. The steady way he watched her aggravated her, while simultaneously making her lower tummy tighten. Instead, she raised her wrist and typed in a communique to Khravel on her tech gauntlet. Sending over the data the ProxyPanion office has given her, she asserted, “Research on the efficacy of surrogates between Terran and non-Terrans tend to highlight how enjoyable relations tend to beget better results.”

Khravel’s own wrist tech pinged in response, receiving the data she had sent. However, he didn’t even look at it. He just steadily stared at her, his jaw tight. Bruised ego and guilt threaded through his thoughts, but his words took on a harsher edge as he asked, “Do you believe barging into my office, during my workday, to accuse me of being bad at sex was your best option?”

---

Part 4 is live on Patreon.

[sunfloowerlatte-art]

birth of a saint

[anghraine]

I'm probably going to regret this, but:

It is 100% true that people can, and should, denounce Israel's horrifying atrocities without being antisemitic. Unfortunately, it's also true that the people who are the loudest about the fact tend to immediately follow it up with something that makes me think, "people can denounce Israel's crimes without being antisemitic, but you sure haven't managed it."

[ladsofsorrow24]

(x)

[kimtaegis]

some original materials I made for this one here

[phoenixcatch7]

Just got all the memories.... Brb I'm going to curl up and cry now. My girl...........

[reesestshirt]

When I was in middle school, I tried to learn how to crochet. I knew how to knit already, so I figured ‘how hard could it be’ and used my Christmas money on a brand new set of aluminum hooks and a how-to book.

To say it was difficult was an understatement. I spent hours pouring over my book, begging to gain some inkling of understanding from what felt like incomprehensible runes. My reward? One lopsided trapezoid of lumpy fabric and a resolve to never pick up a crochet hook again.

And so life went on, I finished middle school and high school without giving crochet so much as a second glance. In college, I read about how crochet couldn’t be replicated by a machine, it was unique in a way that knitting and many other fiber arts weren’t.

For Christmas last year, my girlfriend gave me what I now consider to be my most prized possession: a crocheted plush of my favorite pokemon. I raved over her skills and, since she never learned how to knit, we decided to have a yarn date at some point and teach each other our respective skills.

We never did get around to that yarn date. She passed a few months after our declaration, leaving me to inherit what was left of her yarn.

Nearly a decade after my initial attempt, I got ready for the toughest battle of my life. My weapons? One skein of yarn, a YouTube video, and a crochet hook that I had somehow never gotten rid of.

I slowly made my way through the video, redoing my work a couple times until I was satisfied with my product: a small, slightly misshapen rectangle.

I looked at my pristinely-made pokemon plush with hope for the first time in months and thought to myself, ‘maybe crocheting isn’t the hardest thing in the world, maybe you were just 12.’

Maybe this isn’t the hardest thing in the world. Maybe I’m just 21.