#I still need an incorrect tag

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 4 - Nuthin' but Boothill Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[incorrectccrp]

Grace: PLEASE stop using that one Brontë quote as if it's romantic. It's not. Grace: Catherine says, "He's more myself than I am." At one point, she says she is Heathcliff. After Catherine's death, Heathcliff literally and desperately wants his body to be joined with hers, so they can decompose together. That is not romantic, and it is not sexual. It is, however, unhealthy codependence. Steph: The woke mob won't even let you long to decompose into your beloved anymore smh

[lecliss]

I'll never be able to take the theory that Vincent is Sephiroth's real father seriously cuz I cannot stress enough how important I think it is to the plot that Vincent wanted to fuck Lucrecia and did not get to.

[burning-thistles-bt]

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

THE PARALLELS BETWEEN FIREHEART + LONGTAIL AND CREEKFLOWER + CHERRYFUR IN THE BTR AU IS INSANE

i havent finished the sketch page yet but vbksdjfskjdfskjfs

THE WAY THAT CREEKFLOWER SAVED CHERRYFUR AND NOW THEY'RE BESTIES VERSUS THE WAY THAT FIREHEART FAILED TO SAVE [REDACTED] AND NOW THEY'RE ENEMIES

[sskk-manifesto]

What a good episode. Maaaaaan

[zipquips]

feeling incredibly unprepared for my med appointment today

[pillowenvelopchair]

Hey guys!! this is just my insane ramble on Still Waters Run Deep that's made by the lovely @un-local. I've had so so sooooo many thoughts about this fic and I decided to try and put it all coherently in a post :)

Probably not a lot of new insights, just many, many rambles

Magdalene analysis and her view on Rogier + some other stuff

Magdalene, at the start of the story, is aimless and refuses to follow any line of Grace, putting off whatever it leads to and going in the opposite direction. Yet Grace is fickle, and it all eventually converges, so she gives in. (aaaand a life-changing partnership ensues)

She wants out of the competition of becoming Elden Lord, and she wants nothing to do with it. Someone else to take lordship is what she wants. Magdalene, in her eyes, is not worthy to take the throne. But Rogier on the other hand…

Rogier is, quite literally, built different. He thinks differently compared to Magdalene (a STR vs INT user difference lol). He’s able to pick out all the details that she would miss. Be able to extrapolate and examine it all and be able to learn from it. Magdalene can't do that.

It's basically:

Rogier: says some fun facts about the most random thing in the room, saying all the history behind it, and what the tiny details could mean Magdalene: yeah, that's a rock.

So instead, she becomes a tool for Rogier to be able to use, because that's the least she can do for him.

“She can already feel the faint grin forming on her lips at the thought. She never wanted to be Elden Lord. She’d finally picked up and followed grace to... to get away, with no idea what it called her to do. When Melina told her where it led her, she felt only dread. But Rogier... To save Those Who Live in Death... Two birds, one stone. She meets his eyes, and doesn’t look away. In them, she doesn’t see pride, or avarice. She doesn't see a man who wants to rule the world. Not at all. The path forward is clear now.” -Chapter 22

For once, she really sees a light from the dark future she sees. She's hopeful that she won't have to take the throne, that Rogier can burden it instead of her. He's worthy in her eyes and because of that, she devotes herself to him with all she can do. (Ah but… I believe Rogier wants her to be Elden Lord? Not sure but her not wanting to be Elden Lord doesn’t quite fit with what he has planned)

Magdalene really holds onto Rogier, and his guidance (a comfort wizard, if you will). And so the idea that he won’t make it… that she’ll be left alone with Grace again, forced to join back into the competition for lordship... It's sickening to her. So she really clings to him, desperate to not be left alone with a destiny that she despises.

Magdalene is always pulled into different directions. Grace pulls her to one but she pulls herself to the opposite one. Fia and D are both on extreme sides of the spectrum on Rogier's survival, and Magdalene is caught right in the middle of it.

But for her, Rogier will survive, he has to survive otherwise... that light, that small hope she has will all fade into obscurity.

Ghosts from the past (Lorens and Ida)

I absolutely love how something, or rather, someone haunts both of them.

Lorens had been the catalyst of all of what Rogier does now. Why he’s so desperate to save those who live in death. He's literally devoted his body and mind to Lorens just to see him alive (maybe Rogier's devoting all of himself to finding a solution to death because he wants it to come back to the old times when it was just him and Lorens in the Rise, or maybe not!! I'm just rambling lol).

Every thought of Lorens is painted with a sort of bittersweetness to it. From Rogier's perspective, at the very least (I'm super curious as to how Lorens would view Rogier but we'll probably never get it because... you know...). He's almost obsessed with him, and it's all pretty unhealthy lol.

Magdalene, who’s haunted by Ida who's probably a sort of lover that hadn't been fully brought to fruition. Different opinions on what they have had made Magdalene leave with (from what I have seen at least, we have scrapes of her, people! I can't wait to see more of Ida though)

Now with Ida... Magdalene absolutely shakes herself out of every thought she has about Ida. Spurning every single thought or imagination she has of that woman.

"Nausea comes in waves. Fever. She can feel delirium taking her—she’s convinced she’s submerged in the very waters of creation, for a while. She vividly feels herself sinking deeper and deeper into a current; cold and dark and inescapable. As it pulls her down, she’s overcome with the instinct to breathe it in— Against her temple she feels a hand, with gentle fingers dragging softly through her hair. Suddenly, every layer of the dream collapses in on itself, and she jolts awake with a gasp.  Here, in Liurnia, she hauls herself up, rubbing at her face. Even the memory is a shock of cold water to her. She’s a woman haunted." -Chapter 23

(I just really love this part- I can't help it)

I think it's also really interesting how Magdalene leaves Ida due to their differences in what they have (?) while Rogier just absolutely hangs onto Lorens no matter what, despite him being... er... him. Not so sure about his personality with the small flashbacks we get of him but he’s probably not good for Rogier.

In short, Rogier venerates Lorens, while Magdalene absolutely rejects Ida. (Opposites!)

Rogier’s overthinking

Also found it interesting that when Rogier thinks he really thinks. He's a professional overthinker, even in the past

"He thinks of the labyrinthian etiquette, the way he’d triple-check every sentence for a double meaning. The secrets, the ruthless political schemes. It all felt like a spider’s web to him. He’d learned the game, and he played it well, but it had been nothing but paranoia and misery for him. Just like it was for everyone else." -Chapter 17

It's what's kept him alive (Ch. 17), and what's been able to pave the way for his findings Yet, it’s also his curse. He tries to pick out every detail that he can and think of every possible reason or motivation. Every single outcome he just needs to know so that he won't get caught by surprise again. He needs to be in control of the situation, he needs to be the master of the chessboard.

Oh and once this guy spirals, he really spirals. He starts thinking and looking at details, rewinding every single thing, every interaction, and trying to label a reason for every little thing. Yet... something emotional seems to break the surface of the water.

I personally think that he was raised to overthink. He was a noble after all, and he dealt with politics. He truly needed to check, double check, triple check, every single sentence and word in case it would have a double meaning. "He’d learned the game, and he played it well" (Ch. 17) . Getting worse after Lorens' death, being fooled by "Only a cut." (Ch. 25) and seeing the aftermath of it.

He can't not do it because if he doesn't, and he gets surprised it would break him (or at the very least, freak him out).

ALSO!! Rogier hating on "saccharine conversations" (Ch. 17) good lord. This guy cannot be real with anyone. Rogier refuses to show vulnerability because:

1. He was raised like that (the whole attachment theory thing) 2. He will absolutely break if he does

Do you guys remember when Fia tells Magdalene that "dear Rogier began to weep as he spoke" (Ch.14)? Fia saw through Rogier's walls through the cracks and he just absolutely breaks down. (Get yourself a man who, after "embracing" tells you all about this thing he's obsessed about and then cries because of it)

It's a mortifying ordeal, that someone's able to see through the walls you've meticulously put up. It hits something deep within that he’s tried to bury.

Despite the walls he puts up people other than Fia see through them. Magdalene (Ch.7) was able to see through the small cracks that have broken, and Roderika... hoo she really hit a nerve didn’t she? (But it also hit one of her nerves too, Rogier vs Roderika am I right?)

Chapter 17 analysis

Also, while we’re on the topic of Roderika, let's talk about chapter 17! Seems I have a lot to talk about.

I absolutely love this chapter so much, it gives us so much insight into Rogier's backstory and the way he thinks. His noble background really shines through here, with how he acts with Roderika who is a fellow ex-noble too.

"His grin is wide and carefree, but it rather feels like he's baring his teeth.  There’s no room for your pity here." -Chapter 17

This guy cannot accept any sign of sympathy/compassion with anyone. It's all pity to him, and he absolutely hates pity. Once Roderika starts to console him too it sickens him and it makes him bare his teeth like an animal, his baser instinct showing just a little bit.

He’s probably bore his teeth to other nobles in the court, or whatever meetings they have with one another. Small threats that get the message across by a vicious smile, is something he is all too familiar with.

I also think that it's a little bit funny how he gives advice to Roderika but then is also a little bit of a hypocrite about it

“It’s hard, to leave it behind. But the old world will keep its claws in you, if you let it.” -Chapter 17

Rogier while it's not his past life that he's stuck but rather, he is stuck on Lorens. Even though Rogier is no longer Lorens' student, even though Lorens is dead, he still has his claws on Rogier. It's his entire motivation, why he's in a "pathetic" state now. He isn't letting those claws go, he lets them dig deeper within him, and they dig in deep.

“You already have it within you," he says. "They were only trying to bury it.” -Chapter 17

Rogier immediately buries his own emotions in this interaction when Roderika tries to console him lol. Just based off of him being an ex-noble and his whole family thing, it's well established that he is very much used to burying it all down his gullet. I mean, is it really Rogier without emotional suppression?

Also Rogier tends to close off all the matters that relate to what he feels in his dialogue both in game and in SWRD. This guy cannot let out just a slight moment of vulnerability

A Color Theory Thing on my read on Rogier's garb:

Rogier, with his background being grounded in nobility has suppressed his baser desires in exchange for meaningless political schemes that have only brought him misery. Yet after coming to these lands, he finds himself with Lorens.

He wears a Raya Lucarian Robe and it has red on it. It's a sign of baser instincts being shown for once. He has grown an infatuation with Lorens despite being his student.

Yet, Rogier is still mostly blue, and he still suppresses that baser desire that he’s developed, that infatuation for Lorens. He never once builds up the courage to be able to tell Lorens what he feels. He would always bury those feelings down, and as a result he can't let go of it. It's far too deep to be buried back up.

But once Lorens has died, Rogier changes too.

He exchanges those garbs for yellow and turquoise (I think?). He's a mix of colors and beliefs.

He still has the blue in the turquoise, which symbolizes calm, intelligence, and emotional control (you can’t spell Rogier without emotional control) But turquoise isn't just blue, it also has green.

Green represents growth, life, and new beginnings. This is a new beginning for Rogier, who's set out for a new goal, to be able to save those who live in death (and perhaps give them life? Not so sure on that but in SWRD that seems to be the case with Lorens).

It's balanced by yellow. Creativity and originality, he's almost the only person we meet who wants to save TWLID. Not only that but yellow also symbolizes illness, which could be a foreshadowing of what happens to him later in his life.

It's not just sickness though, yellow also symbolizes deception. Rogier lies, but I necessarily think he's someone who is always deceptive. He's more like the type of guy who would lie so that an encounter would go well or not hurt someone else's feelings. I think he's like that from that whole ex-nobility thing he's got going on. Political schemes and lying through a smile is something that he's familiar with. (It also doesn't help that he keeps being emotionally suppressed too lol)

Cowardice is another. Rogier is scared to tell anyone about his emotions, to take that risk of being honest with someone. His background in nobility and his family definitely doesn't help either.

Rogier had been too scared to be true to Lorens and tell him his feelings, and because of that, he would never be able to. I feel like he's avoided it even more afterward. He refuses to take that jump of being honest with someone, whether it's about his emotions or his ideals, he doesn't let them go.

But when he does? With D, it completely breaks off everything they've had. Everything that they could have been.

"Beguiled fool. A rotten, sick bastard. Fouled by them. A wicked, two-faced user. Heartless. Loathsome parasite. How could he? Were they not supposed to set this crooked world straight? Profane. A perversion of honor. A madman." -Chapter 5

“Get out of my sight.” “I’m sorry.” He’d said, and he was. But Darian’s lips curled back, and he jerked his head away and locked his eyes on the horizon. His jaw twitched, in the moment he took to reply.  “Don’t talk to me.” There was nothing he could do to fix this. To undo his mistakes, to spare Darian his intentions." -Chapter 5

It's all gone because he had been honest about his goals (presumably). This experience probably strengthened that emotional suppression so as to not be hurt/caught by surprise.

So when Magdalene, someone who wholeheartedly accepts his ideals and sees his side for once, he's cautious. He can't believe that someone can genuinely agree with him because all the times that he has been honest, he's been punished for it. (though, he reminds himself that she's not like that)

In short, this guy's a mixed bag. A mixed bag with problems

(basing this off of the Elden Ring color theory video, it was an absolute joy to watch)

[EDIT]: idk what to call this section but he seems to seek out some form of approval. Lets see how that ties in with his grief!

"He still doesn’t understand why. What did he do, specifically? Or was he just past his usefulness? Deemed unfit to rule? He never truly wanted to rule as Lord, but to be cast aside so indifferently—it had shaken him.  Every now and then he fumbles with this, again and again, but he knows. He does. He knows that grace has forsaken him for good reason. He’s a heretic. An apostate. He who does not obediently bow before a faltering, decrepit Order, so ill-equipped to handle the world as it is. " -Chapter 5

"All these years. Couldn’t change a thing. Rather pathetic, I’d say—what a fool, thinking that this crooked world could be made right by mortal hands. Sure, deathblight. Truly, a fitting end for a worthless, rotten bastard." -Chapter 12

Now, speaking from some personal experience, being raised in a family that's of nobility and expects so much out of you from a young age definitely breeds some kind of self-worth issues that really stick with you. Especially if you haven't had anyone to truly support you.

Because of that, I believe that Rogier, in a way, is trying to prove his worth. But not to the Order, I think that he's in some way trying to please Lorens. Even in death.

He puts everything into his studies of Death, searching and scouring for scraps of information just to give him a single lead on anything, and for what?

"Its fulfillment will be a selfish act of altruism. These crooked lands will set right, by his hands, for a reward of nothing at all. But make no mistake: he needs another day. And another after that, and another after that. He needs his questions answered with questions, he needs his notes corrected in an unreadable hand, he needs to hear one more “Well—” followed by the most opaque, convoluted tangle of sentences ever constructed. There’s no reward he seeks, but the warm smile of cold gray eyes and a scoff about just what he’s wearing nowadays. " -Chapter 19

Rogier devotes himself to saving TWLID (saving Lorens, in reality), but it's not because it's all for selfless reasons, he seems to want things to go back to the way things used to be. Back at the Rise, with just him and Lorens once more.

I don't think Rogier ever accepted Lorens' death. He's determined to bring back Lorens, desperately trying to find a solution to bring him back no matter what.

And it’s quite hypocritical isnt it? That Rogier wants to change the Order to be able to sort of… revive Lorens from Death. To go back to the old times that they both had had.

This guy refuses to grieve and is searching (desperately) for a solution for a dead man who's probably not even good for him. Get this man some therapy

This entire post's summary is just me going:

Anyway, that's all for my crazy rambles! I can't wait to see how SWRD will progress, and how everyone will intermingle and grow with one another (Rogier and Mags)!!!! :0)

Have some doodles + a WIP that I'll probably never finish as a treat for reading this! (Mag's torso was wayyy too long on the second one oops)

(bonus boggart because I love him)

[the-city-kitty]

NIY!Raph: *goes about his daily routine, training, lifting weights, etc. absolutely does not notice the multiple throwing knives, Ninja stars, and the straight up tomahawk that all miraculously did not hit him today*

NIY!Raph: Hey where’d all these holes in the walls come from?

NIY!Leo, from a distance: How the hell do I keep missing the bastard!?

NIY!Donnie: *has been running around with a giant cartoon magnet and averting all of Leo’s assassination attempts all day*

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 3 - Random Screenshot Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 4] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[pallases]

my prof giving us an exam on content he can’t even do himself <3

[tubercloset]

when I see six of crows posts apparently responding to discourse, I'm like, I agree with you op, but I don't know who is out here saying that stuff you disagree with

[creativitycache]

Getting my results: Hooray! What a satisfying number! I like that it’s all multiples of three. :3

Opening the answers to see which ones I missed: -scrolls- -scrolls faster- -scrolls fa-

WHY IS A PERFECT SCORE AN ODD NUMBER WHY DOESN’T IT END IN ZERO MOM COME PICK ME UP I’M SCARED-

Edit: oh thank god it’s not actually a perfect score. Somehow others got higher. However I’m seeing in the notes other people also answered the questions 100% correct but got lower or higher scores. I wonder what’s causing the difference? Is it time? How is this thing actually scored?

I got the Top 4.47% on this English Vocabulary test

[ru5t]

The Thing That Brings It Back

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Black and cold and endless as an empty night sky.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  These words formed themselves in her mind, descriptions of where she was. At first she thought of it as unconscious. That made sense for some reason, passed out. The longer she dwelled in the thought, the more she realized it didn’t make sense. Unconscious wasn’t a color. It wasn’t a sensation. It was nothing- a proper nothing. No sense of self or time or place- but she was She, and now was Now, and here was Here, so this was not that. It was Here.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Where was here?

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  As soon as she asked it she was there, standing on an imperceptible and yet solid ground. Something to stand on. To walk across. Her feet dipped into the clear, cloistered puddles when she began to walk. The puddles splashed when she began to run. The droplets that she kicked up clung to her legs, warm and viscous as they trailed back down to pool into puddles again. She couldn’t see them, or herself, but all of it was there. Here.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Where was Here?

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Here stretched on, horizontal, for as far as She ran. Each step made more of it, mapping out a real line, forever, not just a segment. It was Forever. She ran, sprinted, barreled, careened across it as long and as far as she could, but there was always more. Always more, always empty. Nothing to see but the black, nothing to hear but the lapping of the liquid at her ankles, nothing to feel but the way that, when she lingered for even a moment, it began to rise up. To envelope. 

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Keep running.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  She did not have to be told twice. There was nothing else that she could do, save for sink, sink the way the ground that wasn’t ground, the ocean she was pushing each step against, encouraged her too. It was warm and it was Forever, forever in all directions, so eventually eventually, it knew, eventually, she would stop running. She would lay down, and then she would sink.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  But how long was eventually? Here was forever, but how long was Now? That was the Thought that kept her sprinting. How long was Now? Did it end before forever? What if it did? Well, it would be stupid to lay down, then, wouldn’t it?

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Oh yes. Keep running.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Forever shuddered with the impact of Behind where She was. Many feet that splashed the ground set their path upon the path and began, after a fashion, to run (to sprint to barrel to careen) across Forever in Her wake. The hands extended, grappling for a piece a glimpse a graze a touch of She who was Here, Now. 

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  They wanted.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  She ran.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  She ran across Forever without a star or a sky. 

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  She was faster: fleeter feet and sweeter beliefs. Those things were lighter here, and did not sink as easily. They had heavy limbs, had been burned; each step of dozens sank to the knee and the void sucked, popped whenever they pulled free. But as well as this, They were a part of Forever. They were home, here. They weren’t running from sinking, but running through it. That is to say: She couldn’t escape them any more than she could outrun Forever. She was caught.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  They held her with every hand, pinned her against nothing that was something and began to grab. They wanted. She was Here and they Wanted Something, Everything that she brought with her. They clawed at it, fighting over who got to take it, to hold it, shining, in their greedy palm for a moment before someone else stole it or Her will came to take it forever. She was crushed, knees in ribs and fingers going after eyes and the corners of the mouth. 

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  She had a mouth. There was an idea. She bit: She clawed: She broke free.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  She ran.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  She ran across Forever without a sky.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  But it wasn’t right. She had been running forever. Was that why Forever was forever the way that it was? Where would Here be if She had stopped? If she had stayed?

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Sinking, She used to think, to Stay is to Sink. But wasn’t that only when she laid down and was still?

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  She stopped.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  She stopped, but she was not still. She turned. She turned to see They who were Part of Forever.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  But when she faced the They, the feet were only two and the arms were just the same, and the voices coalesced until there was only one whisper, and it was silent. Something was standing Here, Now, and She could see Her.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “You.’’ She named Her, and the Here seemed to become a little bit more.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  It was worth a smile. Her features settled into something that looked more like one than anything Here looked like Anything that Looked. Her hair, rusted flaking red that bled at the edges into nothing, settled down from a pool to hang around Her shoulders. It was brushed aside, out of Her eyes that had once burned with stars. 

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  She touched her own eyes; She had stars. Stars which shone and burned without a sky to hold them, or hold them back. What They had burned their hands trying to take (that which She would not give.)

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  ‘‘Smart girl.’’ Her voice was low, Her approval was Present, breaking a hole in Forever. “They can’t have it, not from you, huh?’’ Her laugh was almost gentle, definitely fond; Her arm extended and pushed a shoulder that was suddenly a shoulder. She was not fast enough to catch or hold on.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “Wait-” Too late.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  She fell, backwards, into the hole-- into the Whole.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Tech inhaled like it was the first breath. Her chest was immediately present- it was heavy, sore. After another breath, however, its omnipresence lifted, and she could feel the cot under her back and the blanket pulled up over her otherwise bare chest. Someone squeezed her hand, which they had already been holding.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “You’re awake?” A hushed question.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Tech opened her eyes. She was looking up at the ceiling of the Haven's clinic. Shrouded in shadows, it was deep and dark - but there. There. She rolled her head to the side and found Lith curled on the pillow next to her. Tech swallowed. Could she speak again?

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “..Hi.” Yes, though her voice was only a rough whisper.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Lith’s relief was a soft laugh that strongly resembled a sob.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “Hi.” The smile didn’t hold. It was watery to begin with, and was dissolving into tears as Tech watched. If being rough was even remotely permitted, Tech got the feeling Lith might have punched her. “That was awful.” 

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Tech nodded, her brow collapsing under the memory of the burning. Tech had thought-- well. What everyone else had, too, no doubt, and fixing it... that had been less than ideal. Awful was as much of an understatement as ‘ow’ had been.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “Don’t do it again.”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  It was Tech’s turn to laugh -more of a cough- at Lith’s no-nonsense choice of phrasing. Being shot and almost dying was strictly forbidden: duly noted. Tech nodded again. A handful of tears slid down her cheeks, but didn’t make very much progress. Lith swept them away, and then her own. None of that from either of them.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “I’ve got you. You’re okay. We’re okay.” Lith squeezed Tech’s hand again. Tech was overwhelmed with the desire to hug her best friend, but, given the circumstances (and the distinct feeling she had that, even if she tried, her left shoulder would not be moving just now,) settled for settling in an inch closer and touching her forehead to Lith’s. Her eyes closed again, but this time they were heavy with a soft drowsiness; the kind that gently promised, though people did not often notice, that they would open again.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Tech sank into the welcoming, gentle arms which sought to hold her only for a few hours, soothing the aches and everything else.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  ..And Back Again

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  She thought she understood it, now. It was not black and cold and endless as an empty night sky, but this was the only way to think about a thing that could not be thought about; to explain the Where that she Was which was Nowhere and Here at once. Nothing, with Substance. Oblivion that you were aware of. -“You sleep too deep. Go home.” -And ejected from.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  The whisper, scolding, roused her, and she woke to find someone’s fingertips pressed to the front of her neck. Tech blinked, and blinked again, until  a face she recognized drifted into view.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “Hey,” Tox whispered, his touch retreating as he leaned back against the curve of his chair, “scared me for a second there. Could’ve sworn you weren’t breathing.”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “M’fine.”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Tox’s shadowed eyes took on an amused shine as he lifted a single brow. The corner of his mouth quirked upward as well.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “Tech. You were shot yesterday.”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Only yesterday? It already seemed so long ago. She tried to shift into a more comfortable position.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “..M’awake.” She amended.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “Hm,” Tox’s hum was vague, hard to place. Tech didn’t know what to make of it until he spoke again. “For the second time, yeah. I think that rounds you up to a full minute, now.”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “Should it be more?”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “..Hm? Oh- no.” He leaned forward again, laying a hand on her good shoulder. “No. Bleed’s stopped, your hand’s- wiggle your fingers? There, see. You’re alright. Sleep if you’re tired, much as you want. I’m keepin’ an eye on you.”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  She nodded. She might have told him to get his own rest, but knew it wouldn’t do anything. Tech took one of those deep breaths that whooshed deep in your ears, like a rush of distant rain.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “...Feel like I’m... forgettin’ something.”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Tox, leaned into the back of his chair again, gave another noncommittal hum.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “Something important? or like.. when you do somethin’ in a rush, and feel like you fucked it up?”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Tech pondered it, tracing her eyes over the shadows on the ceiling above her.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “Important.”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “Don’t chase it. It’ll come back if it is.”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  The typical quiet of the Haven --the hush of a large space where the occasional voice carried from somewhere else underneath the vast ceiling-- was a comfort. Tech let it hold off her next question for a long time.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “...Was it close?”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “Close?”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  She had lost him. She didn’t know if she could ask the question another way out loud, not without choking on it. Luckily, after a moment, Tox sat up straight. He’d chased her question back the way it had come, and reached understanding. He sighed through his nose, deciding how to answer.

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “...Yeah.” Honesty, then. “Still could be. But sleeping doesn’t hurt anything.”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  Not here, maybe. Tech turned her head to look at Tox. He looked, without flatter or exaggeration, exhausted. Tech reached out and took his hand. He squeezed her fingers slightly and she returned the pressure. 

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “Thank you.”

ㅤ‎‎‎⁤  “Ah, what else am I good for?” He dismissed. His smile, though, was grateful and tight, withholding something powerful.

[jessiarts]

[Shut off last version of this post to avoid possible continual spread of misinformation that was corrected by staff. Reposting clean with corrected info]

So I'm sure almost everyone knows about the porn bot problem by now, so here's a post detailing why it's a problem, and what we need to do about it.

First off, yes, always block the porn bots. Don't be mislead into thinking they're ok to keep around because they 'inflate your follower count.'

Firstly, no one cares about, nor can anyone even see, your follower count. Be free from the shackles that are the bullshit other socials told you was important. Don't let your ego be tied to a number. Having a lot of followers won't earn you any clout here.

Secondly, bots only follow blogs to try and legitimize their malware (and other dodgy) links. This post goes into more detail about that.

Now that that's out of the way, you'll need to know how to recognize a porn bot. This round the template seems to be:

A profile photo of a pretty lady or guy, usually in their underwear, with a similar header photo.

A bio with some combination of: [Age] // [Name] // [Location] // [Emoji] // [Top Bullshit% OnlyFans]

URL consisting of a name followed by a number (i.e: firstlast999)

Typically an empty blog, or if there is content, it's all dodgy links. Visible, but empty, Likes Tab, & occasionally a visible Following Tab.

You likely recognize the pattern.

So, what you want to do is, first, report the blog as spam On mobile it'll look like this:

On mobile you'll need to report spam first, and then go back to the menu again to block.

On desktop it will look like this, and unlike mobile, you'll be able to report spam and block in the same motion:

If I remember correctly,* be sure to "Report Spam", not "Report sexually explicit material" to feed the bots to the proper channels. Because the blog is empty, they haven't posted anything explicit that would violate TOS. However, staff can recognize a bot, and if you report the blog for spam (the actual problem) they'll take a look, more than likely find that the blog is posting or DMing dodgy links, and dispose of it.

And I think that's it. Here's wishing you all a happy and safe blogging experience!

[UPDATE: It was suggested on another post that the bots track your IP if you click on them to send more your way. However, someone from staff corrected and said this is incorrect. They also corrected the 'guilt by association' myth that bots following you can get your blog flagged by tumblr.

That said, that trail all led to another, easier, way to report/block the bots all from your Follower Tab instead of visiting each blog separately, unfortunately it only works on desktop:

(For newbies, click on the little person icon at the top right of your screen and scroll to find the Followers tab under the blog/sideblog you need to block a pornbot from.)

*I remember this information from a blog that used to be all about taking down the pornbots. Unfortunately I do not know if that blog is still active, nor can I remember the URL. If anyone knows what blog I'm referring to, and/or if they're still active, please feel free to tag them so others can follow them for more tips!

[volturilovers]

🪩✨sparkling✨🪩

and

✨shining bright like a Diamond✨ that only the skin of a killer can do

A day when the volturi is on a trip.

Aro: Caius have you seen Marcus? He told me he was going with you.

Caius: no I thought he was with you?

Aro:……

Caius:….

Aro: oh shit.

Meanwhile Chaos is happening in the volturi coven

Marcus sitting at the ens of a cliff thinking about his love

[nickfowlerrr]

Bucky Barnes and you get stuck in elevator for one hour. What are you two doing? 🖤 honest answers only even if they are filthy 🔥

stuck with you

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

words: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ only. smut. angst. all the feelings. unprotected sex. hint of a breeding kink. some spanking. oh some very incorrect description of an anxiety attack and how to help someone through it. i know, i know, but it's for the story lmao. uhm if i'm missing something that should be tagged pls lmk!

notes: i couldn't not write something for this and it was gonna be so smutty and then i started and then i... i dont know what happened lol. but thank you for sending this in, i know it's not a direct answer but i hope you like it <3 thank you in advance for reading and as always, comments and reblogs are always welcome and so appreciated!

"What exactly do you think slamming all the buttons will do?" he asked as he leaned against the wall of the elevator, nothing short of casual amusement lacing his voice as he watched you.

You ignored him, trying the emergency call button for the fifth time in the minute that had passed since the elevator stopped moving.

You didn't realize the change in your breathing until Bucky's hand came to rest on your arm. You flinched at his touch, having been too lost in your growing panic to notice he'd gotten closer.

"What?" you asked through a heavy, annoyed breath.

"You need to breathe, sweetheart," he instructed gently, tugging you to face him fully, pulling you away from the buttons as he did.

"I'm breathing," you snapped at him, forcing yourself to take a breath as you worked to steel your nerves. It was all in vain, though. You couldn't fight off the paranoid thoughts as they were coming through your mind too fast to even try and rationalize. "I just," you said shakily, "I ca- I can't,"

You suddenly found yourself nearly bowing over as you tried to catch a breath. Bucky helped you to sit while he kept his hold on you, his intent eyes set on you as your own squeezed shut, your hands mindlessly gripping his forearms as you tried to ground yourself.

"Look at me, sweetheart," he ordered firmly, though he waited patiently for you to follow his instructions.

You felt like you couldn't catch your breath, each one you took was too shallow and you couldn't manage to breathe in any deeper.

"Just hold your breath for a second, doll,"

You were still struggling, and the last thought on your mind was to stop breathing altogether, you were sure you'd pass out if you did. Your gasping was only growing worse as Bucky contemplated his options.

He didn't think long before he gently took your face in his hands and forced you to look at him, your eyes glassy and lips parted, desperate for air. had his heart clenching. He didn't want to see you like that, not with that fear in your eyes. He leaned into you and pressed his lips to yours, more fervently than he even meant to.

You were still against him for a moment, not moving as he pulled you closer to him. It took you a second to register what was happening. All at once, though, your mind caught up, your heart pounding in your chest only growing wilder as you let your eyes close, crawling into Bucky's lap as he held you gently, his lips still against yours. You were all together intoxicated by him, his soft but secure touch, the taste of mint and coffee on his lips, the scent of his cologne mixed with his shampoo from your shared shower earlier, it wrapped around you as your previous thoughts of peril faded into the background.

All that you could think of was him, here and now. And you in his solid lap, his thick arms wrapped around you, his hands holding your face so delicately. Your lips began to work with his as you breathed him in and let him taste you in kind.

You soon lost yourself to him completely; and then, after another long minute, you realized you once again couldn't breathe.

You broke the kiss, hungry for air just slightly more than you were for him. You let your face fall as your noses brushed and you finally were able to catch your breath.

"Huh," you huffed, suddenly remembering yourself. You peeked up at him through your lashes meekly before you murmured a soft thank you.

He smirked halfheartedly, but a little bit of sadness he couldn't hide was apparent on his face as you then moved to get off of him, not that you noticed. Your thoughts were once again getting caught in a spiral.

As you tried to move off his lap, you were stopped. Bucky held you down, his large hands gently squeezing into your soft waist, keeping you exactly where you were.

"I get you're still mad at me, sweetheart, but I'm not just gonna sit here and watch you spiral again," he said as he pulled you into him.

You slumped into his chest, letting your heaviness rest on him as you nuzzled your face into his neck.

"I'm not mad at you," you mumbled into his skin.

"Could've fooled me," he breathed a humorless laugh.

You sighed, pulling away from him slightly.

"I'm not mad. I'm just-" you cut yourself off before forcing your tongue to continue, "I'm scared."

Your eyes were glued to his chest as you spoke but the moment the admission slipped past your lips, Bucky was tilting your chin up to look you in the eyes.

"Sweetheart," he began.

"Not of you. Of me. I just... I'm not, I'm not used to this. To being loved, the way you love me. And I don't wanna lose that," you whispered as tears pricked your eyes. "I don't want you to end up feeling stuck with me. Because I'm a lot, Bucky. And I'm not easy to live with. I'm particular and I need alone time a lot of the time... and ... You just have no idea what you're inviting into your life."

"You," he said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, his touch grazing your cheek as he wiped a tear from your skin. "I'm inviting you. I love you. I want you. All of it with you. Every last bit, doll."

You could see the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke and it only made you all the more worried.

"I'm not trying to pressure you, sweetheart. If you don't want to move in with me, you don't have to. If you need time, I'll wait. However long I have to," he said as his hands began to run up and down your back soothingly.

"I want to, Bucky. I do. I just don't want you to regret this."

"When are you gonna see it," he breathed as he squeezed you closer, looking up at you as he leaned back against the wall behind him.

"See what?"

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I could never regret you."

"You say that-"

"Ever."

Your eyes softened at his insistence, and deep down, you knew he meant it.

Your avoidance of an answer to his question this morning had been you trying to protect not only yourself, but him from disappointment, though it was becoming clearer and clearer that it was only hurting you both.

You were scared, but you also wanted this just as badly as he did. God, how long you'd dreamed about the day you'd wake up in Bucky's bed and not have to rush to your own apartment to get ready for work. How nice it'd be to get home from a miserable day and have him there to make things better without having to endure the twenty minute commute from his place to yours. To share a place together, your and his...

You were near burrowing yourself in his embrace, his hands still soothing up and down your back as he held you close, when you reached to grab one of his hands in yours.

You pulled away from him enough to look him in the eye.

"If you're sure,"

"I'm sure,"

"And if you ever wanna go back on it, or change your mind, I -"

"I wouldn't,"

"But if you do-"

"I won't."

There was a moment, a silent conversation between you two as you look into each other's eyes. You pressed your forehead to his, kissing him delicately before you pulled back again.

You nodded, "I'd love to move in with you, Bucky," you said with a small smile playing on your lips. Your heart soared as you watched the dopey smile that stretched onto Bucky's face before he crushed you against him. "That's all I needed to hear," he said in between kissing you everywhere he could in the position you were in. You laughed as you wiggled to sit up higher on his lap, looking down at him.

You reached a hand to brush through his hair, and as you did the elevator jolted. You caught yourself with a hand against the wall as Bucky tightened his arms around you instinctively.

You felt his warm breath against the swell of your breasts before you looked down with a raised brow. His face was right against your chest, and his eyes were now locked on your breasts as they hung in front of him, his hands grabbing at your ass while his eyes grew darker, filled with even more excitement.

"Wouldn't mind if that happened again," he said huskily.

"Odds are in your favor, you know this complex is the fucking worst," you huffed.

"All the more reason for you to move in with me," he smirked. "But ya know one good thing about these old buildings?"

"Hm?"

"They don't have cameras in the elevators," he said, smacking your ass and causing you to gasp and jolt from the strike.

He was mesmerized by the sight as he repeated his actions over and over again until you were whining and pressing your chest into his face.

"Buck," you mewled pathetically, the tingling between your thighs growing more unbearably with every slap against your ass. Each hit only getting you more wet for him.

You were seconds away from ripping your tank top off yourself but Bucky quickly pulled it off and over your head for you before his lips descended upon your breasts.

You let your head drop back in time with your hips pressing to sit fully in his lap, a moan escaping you when you felt his hard length against you. Your hands were in his hair as his hands squeezed your ample flesh, his lips fervent against your skin still.

You couldn't help yourself as you began tilting your hips over his, back and forth, your movements more urgent the more you felt him twitch beneath you.

Your bra had been tossed to the side minutes ago but you were still in your leggings while Bucky was still fully clothed.

When you tilted your hips just right, you felt his cock rub against your clothed clit and you nearly lost it completely; shoving yourself off of him to finally rid yourself of the clothing that kept you from what you really wanted. Bucky followed your lead without having to be told and got undressed in the blink of an eye. You saw his throbbing length standing erect for you and nearly salivated at the sight, your mouth parted in awe at his beauty. You swear, you'd never get over it. Every little thing about him, from his scars to his own stretch marks, every bit of his was beautiful. And you smiled as you saw him admiring you the very same way, that wonderstruck look in his eyes you'd never get used to. Your patience was wearing down the longer you took, though, and quickly, you climbed back down into his lap before lining his cock up to your slick entrance.

You slowly sank down on him, moans from both of you filling the elevator at the sensation.

"Oh, fuck, doll," he moaned while groping your hips. You started moving up and down his length, slowly as you enjoyed the stretch of him inside of you, wanting to feel each and every inch of his thick cock as it filled you up.

"Mmm," you hummed a mindless moan, throwing your head back in pleasure as Bucky took a pert nipple into his mouth, squeezing and kneading your breast in his big hand. "Feels good, Buck," you breathed, slamming your hips down on his cock, earning a deep throated growl from him.

Suddenly his hands were back on your wide set hips, his fingers digging into the plushy flesh there as he began fucking up into you himself. You were helpless as you keened at the feeling, gripping his shoulders to keep yourself upright. "Oh god, Bucky, please," you whined, pushing your hips back down to meet his thrusts, "please, please, please,"

"You close, sweetheart?" he panted. "I can feel you gripping my cock, baby, fuck," his eyes squeezed tight as he nearly snarled the curse of pleasure.

"Gonna fuckin' fill you up and then you're really gonna be stuck with me,"

"Bucky," you gasped, though it came out with a moan.

"That's it, sweetheart, take my fucking cock, just like that, doll. Just like that," he punctuated each word with another snap of his hips into yours, rolling into you and rubbing your clit deliciously with his every move.

You were both panting, a sheen of sweat on both of you as he fucked you perfectly, the only other sounds to be heard were of your twin moans and the slapping sounds of skin on skin, the salacious squelching of his dick drilling into you over and over.

His thumb found your clit and drew tight circles over the sensitive bud as he felt your walls tightening around him, wanting to keep him inside of you. It was almost blinding, the way you were hit with your orgasm. Your muscles tightened as Bucky continued to fuck you through the high, unintelligible moans and whimpers of his name and cries intermingled as the waves of pleasure crashed over you over and over again.

You found yourself on your back in the blink of an eye as Bucky continued to pummel into your tight heat, deep strokes along your velvety walls as he chased his own high, holding himself above you as he did.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna come, baby, I-" his words turned into a deep groan as his pace faltered, soon morphing into heady moans when you felt his warm spurts filling you up as he came inside of you.

His thrusts slowed as did your breathing until he slowly pulled out of you, laying himself down next to you and pulling you into him. He kissed your forehead as you melted into his embrace.

"I mean it, ya know. You're the one who's gonna be stuck with me, sweetheart. I'm not goin' anywhere," he promised with a simper. "Not without you."