#I've gone on a lot about how a lot of the time i just ask wasps to leave me alone or to go if I'm doing something dangerous to them

[zorbik-guligan]

Not really sure what incongruous means so I'll look it up after but it does feel like as i get older life gets more complex theres more things i understand now that sure i knew about them before but not in great detail but it feels like I've become so fucking complex as a person that if i tried to explain what i actually think and feel it would just overwhelm a person so i try and section myself off into pieces and just use different parts of me with different situations or people and it may just be because ive spent most of my time these past 2 almost 3 years now alone with nothing to do but think and figure myself out that when im asked what i think about something slightly personal its kinda hard to say it just got lost in my head somewhere and that whatever i think will change at a moments notice like i can bring up memories of lots of things and remember nostalgic times but i spent so long thinking about why i feel a certain way or what makes me feel a certain way in order to try and get a better hold of myself that ive kinda forgotten alot of my past like so many memories that i made are just gone because remembering them made me feel a way i dont want to feel like i remember realizing the beginning of 6th grade that i had completely forgotten 5th grade and the reason why was because that time i had was so nice yet not at the same time my brain just frogot because it didn't want a reminder of how good yet not something can be like great teachers who for the first time ever actually seemed to care as far as i could tell class mates who were generally friendly and occasionally checked on me if i seemed off yet i felt so alone cause nobody there really seemed like a real friend like the friends i had before who even when we were in deep trouble wouldn't rat me out and would stick with me who genuinely cared and missed me if i was sick getting older and not having anyone to socialize with for really formative years off my life has made understand those really old dudes who are nice and always up to make friends but just seem extra lonely for some reason despite knowing so many people i guess technically being that alone did hurt me but i kinda learned that im just not alone ever when im outside theres always some squirrels birds or plants nearby that make it more lively its why ive grown so fond of certain forested spots they are always lively and it feels like hanging out with all my friends its also why i enjoy making things like with metal or wood stone or even writing and painting those things feel alive in a way same with music and having time to think so much has made me reflect and realize that no day is the same and even when something changes something else stays the same or gos back to how it was in a weird cycle like growing but remembering where you were growing older for me anyways is like gaining more skills and more knowledge not just on the stuff around me but on myself too obviously people change sometimes pretty quickly too but getting older makes you learn more about yourself which duh that how life works but still it feels weird to be aware of it at 17 when it feels like i should still be trying to figure out my favorite youtuber or something not contemplate who i am as a person and what makes me feel the way i do but its a good kind of weird and theres always more to learn and find so i still have plenty of room to learn more about myself still not being able to really fully let a person know you kinda sucks but to be fair that is a rather special thing its also nice being able to put into words why i feel a certain way so that i can actually explain myself instead of just going quiet cause i dont know myself that well still kinda funny to know your own problems but not be able to jusy fix them when you know its a very deep problem even when it seems surface level and damn i got kinda personal there woops also just noticed that im shaking so might be overwhelmed remembering 5th grade which is probably why i frogot it or at least thought i did

anybody else feel that being human is like being a long-time syndicated cartoon character watching the world get more complex while your own design stays the same until youre incongruous with the reality around you??

[sugdenlovesdingle]

If you’re still taking prompts, Tommy spending time with Maddie?

Oh I like this!

----

"At least this time it was planned." Maddie offered

"Yeah... And the nurse did say everything is going according to plan earlier."

"But you still worry."

"Yeah." Tommy chuckled. "I convinced him to get it done now so he'd be back on his feet by the time the little one starts walking."

Maddie smiled and rubbed her pregnant belly.

"Yeah I think he is looking forward to meeting his family. He's about to walk right out of there in a minute. Jee wasn't this restless."

"I guess he takes after his father then. I've never known Howie to be calm and relaxed." Tommy commented "Well... off the clock at least." he added after a beat and they both laughed.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking bad hospital coffee and Tommy's eyes fixed on the door.

"What about you two?" Maddie asked.

"Hmm?"

Tommy reluctantly tore his eyes away from the door and looked at her.

"One of these." she gestured at her belly.

"I don't think either of us is at risk of getting pregnant any time soon." Tommy deadpanned and laughed when Maddie slapped his bicep.

"You know what I mean. Am I going to be an aunt any time soon?"

Tommy sat up straighter and played with the lid of his coffee cup.

"We've talked about it. Marriage, kids... the whole nine yards... and we want the same things..."

"But..." Maddie prompted.

"But... not just yet." Tommy shook his head. "We've only been back together about six months. And the last time we rushed into things it didn't go so well. So one step at a time for now."

"Isn't he moving in with you when he's discharged?"

"Yeah but that's because he's going to need a lot of help. Especially the first few months. And those stairs in the loft are lethal."

"He managed before..."

"Maybe. But he doesn't have to anymore now. I have a bedroom and a bathroom on the ground floor at my place and the stairs aren't so damn steep, he can easily manage them with crutches if needed."

Suddenly the door opened and one of the doctors walked up to them.

"Evan Buckley's family?"

Tommy was on his feet in seconds.

"That's right. How is he?"

The doctor gave him a tired smile.

"The operation was a success. No complications. Straight out of the medical text books."

"So he's ok?"

"He has a long road to recovery ahead of him, but I don't see why he shouldn't make a full recovery in due time." The doctor told them. "He'll still be asleep for a while, but one of the nurses will come get you when they've gotten him settled back in, in his room and you can sit with him."

Tommy let out a sigh of relief while Maddie thanked the doctor before they left the two of them to it again.

"He's ok." Maddie said, slipping her arm through Tommy's. "He's ok."

About ten minutes later a nurse came to get them and took them to Buck's room. He was still fast asleep but apart from a pulse oximeter on his finger and a cast on his leg, he looked just like he would on a regular day at home.

Tommy sat down next to the bed and softly brushed the curls off his forehead, while Maddie sat down on the other side and held Buck's hand in hers.

"You know he always hated that?"

"Hated what?"

"His curls. People playing with them." Maddie explained. "I used to do it when he was little but when he got old enough to pick his own hairstyle, the curls were gone and everyone was forbidden to touch his hair. I think I still have some pictures of when he gave himself a haircut when he was about 12 or 13."

Tommy grinned.

"If you can still find them, I'd love to see them."

"I'll get Howie to look for them." Maddie promised. "But what I'm trying to say is... he's changed since he met you. For the better."

"I did tell him I liked the curls once... He hadn't had time to get a haircut in a while and his hair was getting longer and the curls just made him look... soft." Tommy smiled, running his hands through Buck's hair.

Maddie smiled.

"Not just the hairstyle. Or wearing clothes in his actual size instead of at least two sizes too small." She laughed. "But he's... more comfortable in his own skin. He's content. Happy in a way I've never seen him before. And that's down to you."

"I don't know about that..." Tommy ducked his head.

"I do." Maddie insisted. "You're good for him. You're good for each other."

Buck began to stir and groaned as he opened his eyes. He rolled his head to the side and smiled when he saw Tommy.

"Hey you." Tommy said and got up to press a kiss to the top of his head. "Welcome back. How are you feeling?"

"Hmokay... better when the room stops spinning... and there's only one of you. is my leg still there?" he reached out to touch his leg and then realised someone was holding his hand. He turned his head and saw his sister. "Maddie!" he said happily, like he hadn't seen her in years.

"Hi." she giggled and squeezed his hand. "They've got you on the good stuff, huh."

"They fixed my leg." he explained. "Tommy said I should do it now. For the baby." He frowned. "Not our baby." He turned his head back to the other side to look at Tommy. "You're not having a baby... right?"

Tommy bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.

"No, no I'm not. But your sister is."

Buck turned back to Maddie.

"You're having a baby?" he asked, and then noticed her pregnant belly. "You're having a baby! Wait... i-is that Tommy's baby?"

"What? No!" Maddie said and both her and Tommy burst out laughing. "I don't think I'm really his type."

"Yeah, sorry, I prefer the other Buckley." Tommy said laughingly.

Buck frowned.

"Who?"

"You." Tommy told him and softly kissed him. "I'm going to get a nurse. Let them know you're awake. I'll be right back." He got up and left the room with Buck looking at him with a dopey smile that wasn't just the anaesthetic.

"I love him." Buck declared, still looking at the door.

Maddie smiled and gave his hand another squeeze.

"I know. He loves you too."

"Yeah? Yeah!" Buck replied answering his own question. "I'm going to marry him. I have a ring." he said, just as Tommy came back in with a nurse.

"Hello mister Buckley, glad to see you awake." the nurse told him as she quickly checked him over. "The operation went well, and you should be able to go home in a few days."

Buck nodded and turned to Maddie.

"You need to call Eddie for me. He has the ring. I need it... for Tommy. I'm going to marry him."

"I'll call him." Maddie promised. sharing a look with Tommy over the bed.

"Good. I'm just... sleep..." Buck mumbled as he started to drift off again.

"He probably won't remember this conversation when he wakes up again." the nurse told them. "I'm guessing you're Eddie?" she asked Tommy who shook his head.

"I'm Tommy. And I guess I better start working on my surprised face."

---

send me a prompt and I'll write you a fic(let)!

[quantum1mmortality]

oooooo I have so many ideas…

If you have a kid with curly, how does he react as a father? He gives me SUCH STRONG girl dad energy and I can’t tell you why. This man is a GIRL DAD. How is he as a parent? Does he cook? Can he help his kid with math homework? Is he a family man? I’m so curious to see your thoughts on this.

Prob like the 7th request I've gotten for dad/dilf Curly 😭😭 also to my very special anon who has been in my asks for a very special Jimmy request, give me a few days, it'll be out love 🪽(I'm busy asf rn)

Tw/cw; none!! All sfw this time :) see guys I can be family friendly when I want to be

Not proofread

I've actually gone over this in the tags of a different post, I do think Curly would be a girl dad. He'd want twin girls and you guys canNOT tell me different.

After you come home from the hospital, Curly would do literally everything for you and the new babies. He'd prepare healthy meals for you, he'd help clean and feed the babies, if one of them started crying in the middle of the night he'd insist on being the one to take care of it, etc.

Basically the bare minimum but is still praised because the bare minimum is hard to come by now.

I see Curly as the type of man to be raised by a single mom and having no father figure. Morbid? A bit, but it helped shape him into the super awesome sauce girl dad he is today.

Because of having an absent father, Curly would go above and beyond to make sure he's present in his children's lives. Any days he has off, he's spending time with you and your new baby girls. Oh, his daughter's are in a school play? He's calling off work and showing up with flowers and chocolates for both of them. Shit like that

Curly would come into work late or just take the day off completely if you needed extra help with the kids. He'd leave work early to pick them up from school if you couldn't. He WANTS to be there. And just remember guys, if he wanted to, he would.

Curly would also try to be home early so he could read them bedtime stories. Idk I just think that's cute.

Once they start growing up, he's getting more into their interests. Curly would be the type of dad to let his daughters put makeup on him and have them do his nails. He would happily walk into pony express as a well known captain and have nail polish everywhere on his hands BUT his nails.

And yes, he would help his kids with their homework. Something about Curly makes me think he took mathematics in college, and I can safely say he is breaking every generational curse by not making your children cry over their math homework.

BONUS CONTENT!!!; Curly would want older twin daughters (obviously, we just went over that) and a younger boy. He would want to name the boy Dallas, but I can't think of any names for the girls. He'd like the name Phoebe a lot, so probably that and maybe a name like Sophia for the other twin.

A/N; too many curly fics, must make master list

[dsireland86]

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds-deactiv @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @fadingangelwisp

They stepped off the bus one at a time, lining up in front of the humongous house. It was beautiful, unlike anything any of them had ever stayed in, let alone lived in.

"How in the hell did you manage to snag this place for us, Matt?"Jolly raised his eyes at their tour manager/friend, waiting for his response. 

"Don't look at me," Matt insisted. "This one was all her," pointing to the quiet girl standing next to Nicholas.

She was holding his hand tightly, resting her head on his shoulder. Today, she was his. Everyone turned and looked at her, eyeing her up and down slowly. She was pretty, shorter than all of them, sweet as honey, and an amazing cook. But the one thing she had in common with all of them was that she shared each of them. No relationship, no commitment, just friendship; with benefits. 

All five of them had their own day with her, giving her two days to herself. But even then, she had the option if she wanted to be with one of them. No pressure, no demands, just simple.

Nicholas squeezed her hand and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. She looked up at him, smiling, and caressed his cheek before leaving his side.

"I just got lucky, I guess," she shrugged, caressing Matt's shoulder as she walked by him.

Just her touch alone made him shiver.

Walking up to the lock box on the front door, she put in the code and retrieved the spare house key, unlocking it. The view when they walked in was breathtaking.

"Alright, here's the game plan," Matt said, closing his hands together.

He was finding it hard to concentrate, watching her bend over to retrieve the sheet of biscuits from the oven. Images of his hands on her bottom last night flashed through his mind. Clearing his throat, he did his best to focus.

"The show is in two days. Tomorrow is rehearsals and crap, so that means today is free for all. I say we head out and enjoy the day since it's so beautiful. I've heard there's a lot to do here."

Everyone agreed in unison, except for her. Jolly walked over to her and caressed her back, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her into his side.

"Are you alright, Älskling?" He kissed the side of her head. "Yeah, just really tired. The non-stop moving around has caught up to me, I think." "Why don't you take it easy today then," Nicholas suggested, caressing her hair.

The gentleness of his hand on her was a healing touch to her body, making her long for more. She took his hand and kissed the moons tattooed on his fingers; her favorite of his.

"But I want to be with you all today. It's too pretty of a day to stay inside." "Baby," Noah called, and she turned around. His deep chocolate eyes stared at her, reading her inner thoughts. "We've talked about this. Take time for yourself. Your mental health and being are more important than anything else."

She nodded, giving Noah a brief smile. "Do “you” things while we're gone, things that make you happy." "And when we get back, I'll draw you up a hot bath with bubbles," Folio offered, twirling his drumstick between his fingers. "Will you join me," she asked sweetly, implying no hidden motive. "Only if you want me to," Folio answered.

She nodded, turning her attention back to her baking.

"Sounds good to you, babe?" Matt asked. "Yup. That sounds good."

She saw them off, sighing deeply the moment the front door closed.

Text after text they sent her, reminding her how much they loved her and what she ment to them. She smiled at each one, thankful for their understanding and appreciation of her. The guys were her world. They meant everything to her. They deserved the same in return. That's when she had an idea.

Hidden in the inside pocket of her duffle bag were a few of her favorite sets she kept to herself. They were ones none of them had ever seen. But they would tonight.

She decided on the white one; full body see-through lace, opening in the middle between her legs for easy access. Checking herself in the mirror and spraying a few squirts of "Dream Angel," she smiled at the thought of them when they saw her.

Grabbing her baking apron and slipping it over her head, she tied it around her and went into the kitchen to finish baking the cookies she had started a little bit ago.

Nicholas made a beeline through the front door for her. He was craving her after she dropped the hint to him earlier that she had something special waiting for all of them when they got home.

The kitchen was warm and dimly lit. Two stacks of cookie boxes sat on the counter, proof of her time alone. 

Then his eyes found her, perched on top of the counter. She was covered by her apron, but her bare legs dangling off the edge said a lot.

"Hi" she said, softly. "Hi," Nichols replied with a smile.

The others soon followed, lining up behind and beside Nick.

"What are you doing sitting up there all pretty?" Jolly asked, raising an eyebrow. 

She grinned, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Wouldn't you like to know." "Yes, I think we all would," Matt said, turning his black ball cap around.

She found Noah's eyes, holding them in a hard stare while slowly undoing the tie to the apron and pulling it off. Groans, curses, and sighs echoed off the kitchen walls the moment she revealed her secret, all the while holding Noah's stare.

He didn't hesitate. In five long steps, Noah was standing in front of her, molding his mouth to hers in a hot, desperate kiss. His hands cupped her face as she wrapped her legs around his thighs, pulling him into her.

Between her scent and what she was wearing, Noah was fighting hard not to have his way with her right then.

"I fucking want you right here, right now, Princess. I don't care who's watching." 

Noah kissed the tender spot behind her ear before taking her ear lobe between his teeth.

"Then do. Take me right here, Noah," she breathed, gripping his ass tightly with her legs.

Noah groaned while quickly unzipping his zipper, letting his pants drop to the kitchen floor. All the sounds of the others behind him were drowned out by the thoughts of fucking her running through his mind. 

"Spread your legs, Princess," Noah commanded, clenching his teeth and breathing hard through his nostrils. 

Grinning, she parted, revealing the easy access opening of her lingerie, causing Noah to mumble incoherently. He gripped her behind her knees and pulled her down closer to the edge, and instantly entered her, falling into her as he moaned into her shoulder.

"Hard, Noah, Fuck me hard,"she whispered in his ear, running her hand up the back of his neck and into his hair as she held onto him.

Bracing himself against the counter, Noah pounded into her pussy in her moans filled the kitchen.

"Fuck, Princess, fuck I'm gonna cum!" "Then cum for me my love " she whispered.

Noah pulled out quickly and came on her thighs. The warm liquid dripped between them, instantly making her sticky.

"Holy fuck, you two!" Matt barked. "What the actual fuck!" "Sorry," Noah apologized into his arm. 

She looked at Matt, beckoning him over with her finger.

"I won't fuck you infront of them," Matt stated, shaking his head and giving her a serious look.

Once Noah cleaned her off, she crawled across the counter to Matt, gripping his shoulders. She rose to her knees, pressing her breasts closer to his face.

"Okay, but that doesn't mean I won't fuck you. Let me ride you, Matty," she begged, removing his hat and running her nails across his scalp. "God," Matt groaned, lifting her off the counter and carrying her to the living room, sitting down on the floor with her in his lap.

She undid his belt and pushed him back, laying him flat on the floor. Yanking his pants down just enough to free his cock, she lined herself up with him, slipping her pussy over him like a glove.

"Jesus!" Matt cried out. "Oh god, baby."

"You like that, Matty? You like how my pussy feels sinking down on you like this, so tight, so close," she moaned, riding him through short, tight little thrusts.

"Fuck! I can feel you! What is that?"

Placing her hand on her lower abdomen as Matt fucked up into her, she could feel his tip hit her cervix, making her scream out a suppressed moan.

"Fuck Matt! That shouldn't feel as good as it does." "Yeah? Is that your spot, baby?"

Matt grabbed her hips and began pulling her back and forth on him.

"Fuck me hard baby. If we're doing this, then I want to feel your sweet little cunt cum for me."

Placing her hands flat on Matt's chest, she rode him nice and hard, grabbing his hands and placing them on her breasts as she moaned over and over until they found their release together.

Matt sat up, clinging to her and biting down on her shoulder as he poured his seed into her, panting like an animal.

"Holy shit, baby!"

He placed soft kisses over the tops of her breasts, waiting for their bodies to calm down.

"You're still on the pill, right?" "No," she said quietly.

Matt's eyes snapped up to her panic ridden.

"I'm kidding, relax. Of course I am," and she kissed his lips. "Fuck you," he cursed through a light laugh. "But you already did, Matty," she teased, caressing the side of his face.

Matt shook his head, grinning as he rose to his feet and collected himself. Nicholas stood beside him, quietly looking down at her.

"Turn around, on your knees," was all he said to her, and she willingly obeyed.

Nick got down on his knees behind her, running his hand up the middle of her back.

"I want your ass, baby," he confessed, pumping his cock to make it harder and thicker. "You'll need this," Folio offered, handing him a bottle of massage oil.

Nick was too far gone with lust to say anything. Opening the bottle, he doused her rectum with the oil, making sure to get enough on his cock. Rising to his knees after seeing they were completely alone, Nick took her by the hips and slowly slid himself inside her.

Her deep intake of breath proved it was uncomfortable at first, and her hushed moans and quiet whimpers as Nicholas rutted against her, going deeper each time made him feel in complete power and control of her. He dominated her in a way that no other could.

"God, this feels better than I imagined," he groaned, slowly pulling back before going further in. "Nicky," she moaned, lightly pushing back against him, "Nicky!" she gasped. "I'm in, baby. I'm all the way in. Just breathe," he coaxed, soothing her with his hand gently gliding over her skin. "Are you okay? Is it too much?" Nicholas asked, very concerned. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. "Mmmhmm, I'm good," she replied, nodding her head. "Okay. Can I move? Do you want me to?" "Yes, but slowly, please," she replied, trying to relax.

Nick started moving back and forth, slowly, unable to stay quiet from the way the inside of her ass rubbed against the ridges of his cock. Fucking her like this was an indescribable feeling.

"Fast, Nick," she demanded. "You sure?"" "Yes, please!"

Nicholas picked up his pace, unable to hide his enjoyment. His loud grunts and cruses of praise and her moans and choked back sobs filled the living room until those sobs turned into cries of pleasure.

"Shit, baby," Nicholas breathed, completely thrown over how good the feeling was. "Baby, Nicky, I'm about to cum. Don't stop, please don't stop!"

Her orgasm hit her hard, her entire body convulsing and shaking. Nicholas pulled out and spilt  his cum over her back as she collapsed onto the floor, completely spent.

"Are you okay, love?" Nick asked, completely wrecked. "Yes. I just need a minute," she said."

Nicholas was afraid he'd gone too far with her. Fixing himself, he went to the kitchen where everyone was, and got a warm cloth and some paper towels.

"You didn't hurt her, did you Nick?"

Nicholas stopped in his tracks, turning and looking at Folio.

"She said I didn't." "You used plenty of oil?" "Yes, Folio, why?"

Nicholas seemed annoyed at the questions.

"I'm just checking. That's all." "Here," Jolly said, holding his hand out. "Let me. It's my turn," eyeing Nicholas while pulling his hair up in a messy bun.

Nicholas nodded, handing the towel over.

" Älskling," Jolly called quietly, walking into the living room.

He found her still on the floor, and still awake.

"Are you alright," he whispered, kneeling down on the floor beside her.

"I am. I'm just cold," she chuckled lightly.

Jolly cleaned her off the best he could, taking a blanket from the couch and wrapping her up comfortably. He held her in his lap, coddling her and kissing her forehead.

"We don't have to if you don't want to. I understand. Today was supposed to be a day for you. What happened?"

She wiggled out of Jolly's grasp and wrapped her legs around his waist. With his back up against the couch, Jolly allowed her to undo his pants and free his semi hard cock. Sighing the moment she touched him, Jolly grabbed her hips, jerking her until she aligned with him. Slowly she sunk down on him, throwing her head back in satisfaction.

"Slow, Jolly. Go slow, please," she asked, brushing the loose hair out of his face and kissing his lips softly.

His hands found her ass, gripping it gently, even though every nerve in his body was telling him differently. She needed gentleness right now, soft and mild. Even though his intention at first was something else, Jolly had to admit this slow paced love making was more perfect than he imagined.

"Baby girl, oh fuck, baby, you're so beautiful," Jolly praised her, planting his face between her breast and kissing them between the sheer thin lace. The small slits against her nipples allowed access for his tongue to slip through, giving him the ability to nip at the pebbled flesh beneath it.

"Jolly," she whimpered, pressing on the back of his head to keep him where he was.

She fucked him harder, moaning softly enough for only him to hear, gripping his hair

"You want me to cum for you, daddy," she whispered in his ear, making him groan loudly.

"Fucking hell," Jolly said, slamming his lips into hers and kissing her, pushing her pussy hard into his cock.

"Cum for me, mama, come for your daddy," he pleaded with her, dragging his lips down her neck.

"Jolly," she moaned, gripping his shoulders and biting down on him, hard.

She clung to him the moment she came, letting the feeling sweep over her like a tidal wave, dragging her down into the deep emotions of his love.

"I love you," Jolly whispered lovingly into her hair.

"I love you, too."

And it was true. She did love him. Very much. She was in love with all of them.

"There you go, nice and slow, sweetheart," Folio coaxed her, holding her hand as she climbed into the jacuzzi tub. The jets created copious amounts of bubbles within the hot water.

Sitting down and giving herself time to adjust to the temperature of the water, she rested against Folio's chest, breathing easily.

"You okay?"

The warm water from the sponge he squeezed over her shoulders was soothing.

"Mmmhmm, I'm okay," she said sleepily.

"You know you didn't have to do all of that for us, right?" Folio questioned, kissing the side of her temple.

She gathered his hands up and pulled his arms around her.

"I know I didn't. But you guys kept sending me the sweetest texts and the way you insisted I take today for me made my heart so happy. I just had to show you how much I appreciated and loved all of it; all of you," she stated.

"We all love you a lot too," Folio assured her honestly. "Some of us more than others."

She smiled to herself, tightening her grip on him. She wanted Folio as close to her as possible.

"You make me the happiest, Nick," she confessed weakly, almost as if what she was saying was a sin. But Nick already knew the truth; he'd know for a while now.

"I know. I can tell. It's our little secret though, yeah," he stated, kissing the side of her face.

"Yeah, our little secret," she agreed, handing Folio the scrubby with soap.

[wpmorse]

One of my side projects is a ASOIAF/Discworld crossover. The main premise is, due to the events of A Thief of Time and Night's Watch, Ankh-Morpork and the surrounding  is transported to Westeros roughly replacing Saltpans, approximately when Robert and the court are heading north to Winterfell. Due to their location, Ankh Morpork is forced to become part of the war of Five Kings out of self defense. Due to Ankh Morpork having a different flavor of narativium, a 300+ year technological edge and... wizards, I expected things to be interesting.

For the most part this hasn't gone anywhere beyond me throwing ideas at the wall when I'm inspired. One of the bits I enjoyed the most was a scene with Arya and Rincewind after Rincewind accidentally saves her from the Brotherhood Without Banners and the Hound. It appeals to me for two reasons. The first is because so many fans go on about all of Arya's cool teachers, it appealed to me that she get one with a notably different philosophy than the others. The second is, as any Discworld fan can tell you, sticking Rincewind with someone gung-ho and heroic is comedy gold.

I'm afraid I rushed this scene too much, but it could be worse. Recently I've started to base my vision of Rincewind on Neil from the Young Ones mainly because Nigel Planer uses the voice for him in the audiobooks.

Anyway, here's the scene.

* * *

They had been walking through the forest for the entire day. They’d kept away from trails and didn’t see anyone. Still, Arya wasn’t sure if they were getting anywhere at all. All of the moss on the trees faced north, but she was sure she had seen several of the trees they had passed before, and then before that.

“Are we there yet?“ She asked again.

Her companion stopped and gave a loud exasperated sigh. He turned slowly and stared down at her. Arya stared back until he looked away. "Calm as still water," she thought to herself, smugly.

He was a tall skinny man with a thin, scraggly, beard. When she first met him, two days ago, she thought she had run into another red priest, like Thoros, in his faded red robe. But Thoros didn’t wear a strange pointed, wide-brimmed hat which looked even more threadbare than his robes, with the word “ WIZZARD” sewn in large faded letters. It made him look more like a mummer. Or at least a mummer who had been lost in the woods for many years.

He frowned. "How the gods should I know?" He asked.

Arya could not believe what she heard. “We're lost, aren’t we?” she said.

“ We are not!” He shouted.

“Then where are we going?” Arya demanded.

The man shrugged and started walking. “I don’t know about this ‘we’ business, but I’m going away from here,” he said pointing at the ground.

“That’s stupid!“ she shouted.

“No, it’s not. It’s away from danger!” He shouted back.

“And what if we just end up in more danger?” Arya asked.

The man turned again looking down at her with an infuriatingly knowing smile.”When we find it, we can run away from it too" he explained.

Aria wanted to punch him but she stopped herself as an idea struck her. “If we’re not going anywhere, can we go to Riverrun?” She asked.

"What’s in Riverrun?“ He asked.

“My…“ Arya paused. She wasn’t sure if she should tell him about her mother and Robb. She hadn’t told him her name yet and had gone back to calling herself Weasel, for fear of giving herself away once again. She didn’t think he would try to hold her for ransom, as the Brotherhood had planned, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

“The Warden of the Riverlands and the king in the North,“ she said

The man gave her a crooked look. "So… There’s an army there?“ He asked

"Oh yes, lots,“ she said, excited.

The man shrugged. "Well then,“ he said, "Let's keep away from there. You don't want to mess with armies. Too much of a chance they'll try to kill you.“

Arya couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You're craven!" She shouted.

"I am not! Craving only leads to more trouble! I don’t crave anything'.  He paused, remembering something. “Well, except for boredom, that is, and," he sighed wistfully, “ potatoes."

“What’s a potato?“ Arya asked.

The man gave her a pained look. He turned and looked up at the sky and said something under his breath. Arya couldn’t quite make it out, but it sounded like whimpering. “ Look, no one's asking you to follow me, “ he said, changing the subject. “ If you don’ t like where we’ re going, you can leave anytime you want."

Arya said nothing. She didn’t know why she was following the man, ever since she had run straight into him escaping from the Brotherhood, but he had got her past the Brotherhood's outer guard and, she shuddered, the Hound, and so far they avoided any other people out to get her. She was safe around him, even if she found his whining annoying.

She hadn’t asked him his name yet. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to get close to anyone, after losing Gendry, Hot Pie, Syro and... her father. Still, she should try to learn as much as she could about him. “Is a wizzard anything like a hedge wizard?” She asked.

He looked at her surprised. “You’re the first person who’s known how to read since I’ve arrived in this gods forsaken mud hole,” he said.

Arya gulped realizing she’d given away an advantage. "Well, is it?“ She asked. The wizard drew himself to his full lanky height. “Oh no, we wizards are something much better. We look into the higher magics.”

“Can you show me some?“ Arya asked.

The wizard coughed. “Not right now.“ He said. “My powers can’t be wasted on simple parlor tricks, especially when we might need them for something serious later. "

Arya said nothing. Let him keep his stupid secrets she didn’t need him.

[suddencolds]

a personal milestone 🥳 + author's note

i finally made it 😭 (there is probably another 10k sitting in my drafts, but i have always tracked word count for this project as a sum of already-published installments)

also a (somewhat long) journal entry below:

—

This has been the main project in my life for almost two years, now (I started writing on 1.26.2023). It's my first proper attempt at a novel, and it's one of my first times ever posting original work anywhere 😭

It's hard to say how I feel now, perhaps because I feel too much.

Where to go from here? I considered dropping the series entirely before I hit the milestone because I was very tired. In a way, I felt like I had said everything I wanted to say. But I think I also love this series a lot more than I can properly verbalize.

To be completely honest, writing this series was so lonely. To work for so long on something that I could not show to nearly anyone irl (not family, not close friends, not peers, not strangers I met who I talked to about art); to spend hundreds of hours on something that I could only ever post to a small subset of people... all of that was very lonely. I'm sure other creatives have felt this way too.

And at the same time, hearing what people on snzblr thought became probably the most potent source of happiness in my life (is that pathetic? Maybe so.) I don't think this project was self-sustaining at all; I think to some extent, I wrote it because I wanted to hear people tell me that they liked it. I realize this is a terrible and unsustainable reason to create art, but that's the truth.

On some level, though, I kept writing because I loved Y+V. They've been at the forefront at my life for almost two years now 😭 I spent a long time teaching myself how to write them, and a lot of the themes & choices in the series are quite personal. Embarrassingly, I still want to talk about Y+V all the time.

When I posted to ask if I could send my unfinished/unpolished WIPs, some people reached out to offer to read them... and then I never sent anything over to anyone. I think a part of me could not get it through my head that people would be willing to read something completely unpolished, because... well, frankly, a lot of my drafts are just pretty unreadable; I typically only post things that I have already cleaned up. More importantly, I felt like sending my drafts to people—even people who had given me explicit permission to send them!—was selfish and troublesome.

On some level, I also felt the same about asking others to brainstorm with me: I felt like I was asking them a favor which I did not know how to pay back. Perhaps this is just another way in which I have been cruel/uncharitable to myself, but I never imagined people enjoying receiving my drafts. I could never convince myself that for those people, giving feedback/discussing ideas might not actually be a chore. I was always scared to make writing less of a lonely process because I could only think about how easy it would be for me to ask too much.

This is probably the most honest I've been about this particular subject 😭 I am not good at gauging what constitutes 'too much.' I feel like I can get carried away when someone expresses interest, so I try to preemptively position myself as someone who does not impinge on others... I think that even outside of this series, I have defaulted to this pattern of trying to give and trying not to ask. In that particular sense, I am perhaps to blame for my own loneliness.

Anyways! Recently, I've gone back to (tentatively) writing after months of not writing. I'm not sure if I will post another installment here (maybe if the drafts are 'good enough', I will?), but it's nice to write without worrying so much that what I am writing needs to be publishable/presentable.

If you have ever left tags/comments on my work, and you are reading this, I am grateful beyond words to you for keeping me company + for making me feel like what I was spending so much time on was a little more meaningful :') I always go back to reread them when I'm in need of encouragement. Thank you sincerely for the happiness. ❤️

[thedepressedjuggalette]

Arcane is a GOTHIC Show.

No, not Goth like Goth music, I mean GOTHIC as in Gothic Literature like Mary Shelly's Frankenstein, Robert Louis Stevenson's The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, or literally anything written by Edgar Allen Poe.

I am dead ass serious. Or maybe I'm just insane.(Spoilers ahead!!!)

Now it is okay if you didn't pick up on this, I am just one of those extremely weird kids that grew up reading Gothic Literature so much that it was almost an unhealthy obsession so I kind of spotted this within the first 6 episodes of the first season.

Now if you don't believe me when I say that Arcane is Gothic in nature I need to ask you this:

Did Arcane ask these simple questions:

What does it mean to be human?

What defines humanity?

When is a person too far gone?

Can grief ruin a person?

Can trying to help others turn to destroying others?

And can obsession turn to madness?

These specific questions are the very questions I've noticed pop up a LOT in OLD SCHOOL Gothic literature.

For instance Viktor is a lot like Viktor Frankenstein and Dr. Jekyll (more so Dr. Jekyll) in the sense that he slowly loses his humanity the further he pushes his research before finally falling to a destructive path. He quite literally loses himself to his own research and by his own research subject.

Singed (Dr. Ravick) is more Viktor Frankenstein than anything else. So obsessed with bringing the dead back to life. But whereas Frankenstein was obsessed with the idea of it that he never thought if he should. Singed found it merely to be nothing more than an illness needing to be cured because he couldn't stand the idea of losing his daughter.

Gothic Literature came out after the Romantic Literature Era, however in the Romantic Literature Era a lot of writers were protesting workplace mistreatment such as forcing children into working in coal mines and cleaning chimneys, along with the obsession of nature, Gothic Literature focused on the morality of Humanity, what it meant to be human and what defines us and how quickly a person can fall into insanity (aka mental health issues).

The first to start this was Mary Shelley over a small bet with her husband and several other authors. Her work was mortifying in comparison to the others because of what it forced the reader to think about.

Her work took place during the Enlightened Era where scientists were obsessed with Progress (Riot I fucking saw this shit coming, fuck you guys), and how if as a species can we become like god and make something from our own deaths and if we even should?

Shelley doesn't directly answer this but we actively see through her writing the death of a god -- Viktor Frankenstein -- because Adam (the monster) views his creator with contempt and disgust and thus demands his Eve despite Frankenstein's reluctance.

Can you imagine what Vander would've thought of Singed?

Can we really say that Vander would not view Singed as both his Savior and Destroyer. Can we even call Vander human? Or is he something else entirely? We can't call him a werewolf in the traditional sense, so what truly is he? He is the Adam of a species not meant to exist. Is he even Vander anymore or is he truly Warwick?

A lot of Poe's writing is very much about madness and grief. Well... To me anyways, it could just be my obsession with his poem The Raven (it reminds me of my great grandmother).

And I've personally in my own life seen how grief can destroy a person physically -- their despair destroying their physical health because that person feels their life died with that person. And I fear every day for my grandma to head down the same path that her sisters are when they pass.

But it's the mentality that the more subtle and at the same time the most extravagant thing to be destroyed through grief.

We see this repeatedly with Jinx and Vi.

They lost their stability the moment that their brothers and Vander died, and when Jinx thought Vi was dead.

They had already lost their bio parents, so this was another nail in their coffins. However Vi had no idea if Jinx was alive or dead and thus had that to hold onto despite being beaten bloody in an unstable environment that is prison.

Jinx however had her grief and trauma constantly lectured into her and had to form her personality around it. She even comments on it in episode 9 of season 1. Silco didn't know how to be a dad, but he was trying his best but he was a grown ass man when he had his personality reformation unlike Jinx who was like 10.

Her grief was haunting her and ruining her mental health.

I had recently learned that psychotic depression is a thing.

With her guilt and grief and PTSD eating her alive she was bound to go the road she went down. But what truly killed Jinx was the death of Isha.

I want to make it clear that I don't view Jinx and Isha's relationship as sisterly. I view it as maternal due to the comparisons between her and Silco and Isha to Powder.

However the point still stands.

She, like Silco, could not stand the mere idea of their child being in any sort of life threatening situation -- especially dealing with enforcers -- and thus would jump to protect them. But they both fail at the end in many ways.

Vi literally stopping Jinx from getting Isha out of there, and Silco being unable to stop Vi from triggering Jinx's PTSD.

And there's one more thing about Jinx we need to address...

If there is one thing I know about bullying and brainwashing is that if you keep telling someone they're worthless etc. one day they're going to believe you, and you cannot be surprised they do and when they act accordingly. Especially when the victim is a child. This is why suicide in children and teens is so devastating and cannot be fixed with religion or weird as hell wrestlers or stupid manosphere podcasts.

We don't know how long Powder had to put up with Mylo's bullying of her, but telling by her reaction to and how the loudest and most negative voice she hears from her hallucinations is his voice... I'd have to say that it started from the moment they met up to his death and it was sealed when Vi hit her and called her a Jinx.

"Who truly made Jinx?" is a question that has been brought up by everyone and their mother by this point. Some agree with the character herself when she said that it was Vi. Others agree with Silco when Jinx stated that Silco thinks he made Jinx.

Some reading this might say "Oh my god was it Mylo???"

I disagree on all fronts.

There is one video essay I keep coming back to because anyone with any sense of media literacy will outright point this same shit out but not as... Artfully as the essay itself.

It is called "Arcane, a Monster Factory" and it starts out with a single statement:

"Piltover breaks people."

And ends with a terrifying statement:

"Sometimes when I can't sleep at night, I start to think that maybe Piltover is more realistic than I'd like to think..."

It wasn't a single person that made Jinx. It was the entire city.

I want to point to Episode 7 to show you what I mean.

Without the death of Grayson but instead the death of Vi and without the creation of Hextech and Silco choosing to forgive Vander, Powder herself changed for the better and never needed to become Jinx. Rather she focused her energy on helping everyone around her -- and not taking time for herself in the process but we've always seen this even in Jinx. She focused on helping Silco then jumped to just trying to destroy for the sake of destroying only to end up helping the under city without meaning to, only to help Isha, and never really helping herself.

No matter what she'd have liked to think, she could've done wonders. Viktor even said so himself. She could do a lot to help his commune with her talents.

Even said it when he was looking at her bomb for the first time, calling her work "inspired".

She is talented but her talents never got the chance to truly shine.

Imagine what she and Ekko could've done if they were able to attend Piltover's academy.

But as stated before, Piltover breaks people.

Piltover made Jinx.

And in a cruel twist of fate it made the two people who cared about her the most hold the blame for the city's actions.

The ending of Arcane was fumbled when it came to Jayce's speech to Viktor and I'll stand by that because it was the fault of Piltover for Viktor having a preventable disease and thus leading to his obsession with avoiding death and avoiding needless suffering.

But in this ending these two science husbands did ask the one question that truly defines Gothic Literature.

What does it mean to be human?

And it's answer is one that I am unsure about because no one can truly define the human experience. The experience of life. The grief. The pain. The love. The joy. All of it.

In my own fanfic for a completely different fandom I had two characters talk about emotions. One couldn't truly feel emotions while another could. It took me a long while to try to figure out how to answer the question of "What is it like to feel emotions?"

It's hard to answer, isn't it?

I did figure it out though, having to take a page out of Kindred's playbook. But it was one I was very satisfied with.

It is questions like these be them asked through subtle writing cues, or blatantly asked by the characters themselves, they define Gothic Literature to me.

Arcane is the beautiful marriage of Greek Tragedy and Gothic Literature.

[panpanghost]

Part 6 of this,

Macaque kept his eyes on Wukong as he flew away. When he couldn't see him anymore, loneliness took over his heart.

He just left, Why do I miss him already? Daaaamn *sigh* I'm so pathetic. No time to think like that. Macaque slapped his face with both hands.

The kid is still out there. If only I could use my glamour and talk to him. Come on Macaque, think! There should be a way to talk to him without having to show myself.

Macaque flopped on the bed.

But... Wukong truts him. He left my life in his hands. Maybe I could trust him too. He was with me and Wukong in the room when I woke up. But then I still had my glamour on, I lost most of my magic when I tried to open a portal to get to the kitchen. The more I tried to use my powers the more I lost them. I can't believe how much I've fallen. I need to get better soon, I can't keep being a burden to Wukong. If only I can remember what this crown is, I can break the spell, but most of my memories are gone!

Macaque grabbed a pillow and put it on his face to muffle the scream he was about to let out _"AAAAAGGGHHH!!!! THIS IS FRUSTRATING!"

Macaque let out an angry growl then got up and paced in the room, here and there, thinking of a plan to suck the information dry from that kid.

I only need one spell to work, one to cover my ears, it's ok if the scars stay, I'll just cover them with some clothes, not my eye though...

Something pinched Macaque's heart as he traced his eye. Whatever happened that day, even with no memories, he knows it hurt him deeply. He shook his head and pushed these thoughts back. If it were something important, Wukong would've told him.

Maybe I can cast a strong spell and keep feeding the crown until I've finished with the kid. It'll hurt though... so damn much... Even if I lose my memories again, Wukong will take care of me. I hate the way he treats me like some delicate flower but I hate feeling like a lost idiot even more. I have a lot of information in my brain, hopefully I'll lose some unimportant ones.

This is my only choice.

Macaque stood in the middle of the room. He took a few deep breaths preparing himself for the pain to come. He will regret this, He knows.

One spell later and he could feel needles through his entire body, he wanted to scream but held it in and breathed the pain out as much as he could. On the other hand, one look at the mirror showed him that his plan worked, he just needs to make it for a few minutes without falling or showing he's about to pass out. Easy....

A few steps to the door made him reconsider, it was too much to handle, he must stop-

*Knock knock knock* the knock startled Macaque, he was too focused on the pain to hear anything around him.

_"Macaque are you in there?" the kid spoke to him from behind the door, "I don't mean to bother you but I got some extra noodles for you. It's a get well gift from the gang and me."

Gang? What gang? It doesn't matter. He's here. An opportunity I can't miss.

Macaque opened the door feeling cuts through his body with every move. Just a few more minutes...

_"Oh Macaque!" the kid spoke, his eyes big and full of delight, all because he saw Macaque, it somehow hit a soft spot in Macaque's heart,

"I was worried you wouldn't want to see me. I'm sorry I didn't mean to intrude but I was really worried because I haven't seen you in weeks and whenever I ask Monkey King he'd say you're busy or something and I started to think that you hate me now and don't want to see me because I let you down and..."

This kid needs therapy.

_"Easy kiddo." Macaque said, trying to sound normal, it's like shards of broken glass in his face and throat. But he can handle it, he'll feel worse if he kept being useless to Wukong. "I was just upset that's all."

_"Really?" the kid looked at him like a puppy in the rain. Why does he look so much like Wukong?!

_"Of course. You've done nothing wrong." Macaque spoke trying his best to hold on, this kid is a chatty one, a golden goose for information.

_"Thanks.." The kid said, looking a little relieved, "Uhh... Can I come in?" he asked, hints of anxiety on his face even with the smile.

_"Sure." Macaque stepped away from the door, holding his breath, holding the sounds of pain, then let out a long exhale,

_"You seem down." The kid said, putting the bags on the table then turning to face Macaque, eying him with worry.

_"This whole thing is tiring me." Macaque said with a little reassuring smile,

_"Yeh.. ok..." the kid looked down, then sat on the bed before he spoke again, "Umm... Thank you."

_"Hm?" What for?

_"You know... For staying, even though you and monkey king aren't on good terms." the kid still couldn't hold his gaze up to Macaque, he just looked to his side,

_"Good terms?" I'm not on good terms with Wukong? Why?

_"OK. Fine. You hate each other. But still... I'm happy you accepted our help. I was so worried you'd dissappear the second you got better."

We hate each other? I left before? When? Why?

_"Well, I hit a dead end at one point, the sooner this is over, the better it is." Macaque shrugged then headed to the noodles, he can hold on just a little longer,

_"Are you- Are you leaving once we solve this?"

_"..." What is he talking about?

_"Can't you stay? I mean is it really that bad to be around us?"

_"I'll think about it once this thing is off." I don't know either kid,

_"You're staying!" the kid literally glowed,

_"I didn't say that. I said I'll think about it when we get to it." Macaque said turning to face the kid,

_"I'll take that as a maybe." he smiled at him that mischievous smile,

_"*sigh* So?"

_"Hm?"

_"Did you find anything useful?" Macaque could feel his heartbeat grow faster, he's runnig out of time,

_"Oh! We found out its name but we still can't tell what it's for. Monkey king said he'd look into it, so we're waiting for him."

_"What's its name?" Hurry up kid!

_"Monkey king didn't tell you? It's the corrupted king's crown, but the info we found about it-" The kid stopped as he saw Macaque's face fill with terror, "Macaque?"

_"The corrupted king's crown..." Macaque muttered before the pain got 10× worse, the crown isn't just taking his magic anymore, it's trying to kill him,

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" he yelled and fell to his knees holding his head, trying desperately to get the crown off,

_"Macaque!" the kid yelled and ran to him,

_"KID LISTEN! AGH! They want- They want to put- *pant pant* egh- someone- else's soul in my body-"

_"Who?!" MK doesn't understand anything, what's happening to Macaque?!

_"The- The king has guards- AAAAAAAAAGH!"

_"I'll get Monkey King!" The kid stood up, looking around for help or where to start,

_"DON'T. AAAAAGH! DON'T-" Macaque couldn't say another word before he passed out.

The room fell silent. MK stood there for a second not knowing what to do. He needs help, Macaque is in worse shape than he thought, what should he do? Who should he call? Should he just wait for Macaque to wake up? What should he do?

(I know it took too long and it's not that good but I tried my best ok? T^T. I still don't like it though but I'm glad it ended.

And yes, still no title, I don't know where this is going so I can't come up with a name.)

[raycatzdraws]

A Linked Universe meets The Dark Crystal AU! I don't even remember what started it at this point. I remembered that the Dark Crystal and Age of Resistance are things I like, blinked, and woke up three days later with an AU and a bunch of art.

The designs and the story are a wip and for fun so expect a lot of variation! (I have a few different beginnings, ideas for different designs, etc)! :D

In addition to #linked universe I'll be using the tags #the dark crystal lu au and #courage of the dark crystal!

[melverie]

Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh today I've been constantly experiencing the urge to un-private today-in-the-devildom & start writing for it again

[girlscience]

THE FACT TRANSFORMERS DO NOT HAVE CONSISTENT SIZING OR EVEN CANON HEIGHTS FOR MOST CONTINUITIES

[alamari-chibi]

@pocket-size-cthulhu

I'm making a separate post bc I kind of sent myself down a rabbit hole. I wanna clarify that I am a Big Hozier Fan and that most country music is a different lyrical ballpark entirely bc of the nature of the genre. (If I had to describe it I'd say it's more literal and storytelling than the whole, like, in-the-woods poetry thing hozier's got going on.)

Anyway I tried to find some that have the same kind of poetry to them or at least aren't about dirt roads and, like, alcoholism. (this is very hard to do there are so many songs about drowning your sorrows in alcohol. I think maybe that's a bad thing but what do I know about songwriting)

Zach Bryan - Something in the Orange

Ryan Bingham - Wolves

Deana Carter - Strawberry Wine

Chris Stapleton - Tennessee Whiskey

Brooks and Dunn - Neon Moon

Uncle Lucius - Keep The Wolves Away

Juice Newton - Angel of the Morning

Johnny Cash - God's Gonna Cut You Down

The Band Perry - All Your Life

Lee Ann Womack - I Hope You Dance

Josh Turner - Would You Go With Me

I also have a few that I think just have generally clever lyrics that you probably won't enjoy very much if you don't like country music:

Rodney Atkins - If You're Going Through Hell

Sugarland - It Happens

Jessica Andrews - Who I Am

Billy Currington - People are crazy

Blake Shelton - Honeybee

Tim McGraw - Just to See You Smile

[righteousliar]

not to be sad on main but I miss my mom

[a-sentient-cup]

be nice to bugs, they're living their lives and you just happen to be around and several thousand times as big

I hate being a person who loves bugs, I can't say anything without the person I'm talking to reacting with disgust. Today I had to literally beg a coworker for the life of a spider, and then after I put it in a nook outside she thought it'd be funny to show me a video she took of her killing one. Like idk man. Birds scare the shit out of me but I still get why people love them. They come in pretty colors and they sound nice and they're interesting to observe. I don't understand why people don't feel the same about bugs. The rich amber color of a cockroach, the iridescent glow of a fly, the intricate hydraulics that power their little legs, the chirp of a beetle, the art of the spider's web... It's all so beautiful. Why is it the habit of so many to destroy?

[embervoices]

A very useful thread on Bluesky:

(There is a lot more. Rather than give you all the images, I've copied the full text below.)

Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬ November 8, 2024

This is not going to be a repeat of 2016-2020. It will be better, it will be worse, but most of all it will be different. Here are things I want every single person to keep in mind as we head into round 2 of a Trump admin.

My credentials: I’m a queer female public interest attorney working on tech policy in DC. I’ve been doing this for a decade--longer than some, not as long as others. I had to navigate three different administrations, as well as Congress, regulatory agencies, courts, and the advocacy world.

FIRST: don’t let despair override your media literacy.

The left has grifters, just like every other movement. If you’re able and compelled to donate, give to orgs with established track records. Avoid giving to individuals, especially anyone who emerges overnight with a one-weird-trick “plan.”

The left is not immune to misinformation, and everyone—EVERYONE—falls for it sometimes, present company included. There is no shame in it. When (not if) it happens to you, you should acknowledge it; delete or retract the post to reduce the spread; and move on.

If a source consistently shares half-truths or outright misinformation, it is not trustworthy, no matter how much “their heart is in the right place.” Unfollow and move on.

Prediction, analysis, and reporting are three fundamentally different things. Learn to identify them for what they are. Reject attempts by amateur “analysts” to predict the future. They know as much as you do.

Real subject matter experts know and acknowledge their limits. They’re also (usually) hesitant to try and predict the future. The best frame their predictions in terms of a range of possible outcomes. Subject matter experts may also disagree with one another! It happens!

SECOND: What we know for sure about how the Trump, how he operates, and how that will impact the next four years.

Trump is a narcissist who avoids reading and doesn’t care about details. He cannot be persuaded by argument or logic; he’s moved mostly by flattery, and will agree with the last person who flattered him. He can and will upend his own administration’s work without warning, often by tweet.

As a result, most policy experts—even those "on his side"—dread him taking an interest in their field. Ask any Republican staffer who worked in Congress during the last administration, and most of them will confirm that their greatest fear was Trump tweeting about anything related to their work.

As such, people who are serious about their work will do everything to make it as invisible and boring-seeming as possible. This is the policy equivalent of defensive camouflage. Lots of “normie” work will continue in silence. (The lion’s share of tech policy ends up in this bucket.)

If you have a niche issue that you care about, now is a great time to donate to orgs that work on it. Lots of money will be funneled to big legacy orgs working on headline issues: ACLU, climate change orgs, etc. Consider sending your donations where they matter most: local, niche, established.

Trump runs his cabinet like the Apprentice. He thrives on chaos and making people compete for his approval. Not only does he not reward collaboration between his subordinates, he actively undermines it.

Moreover, everyone who works with him knows that they’re vulnerable to being thrown under the bus at a moment’s notice, for any reason (or for no reason at all). His cabinet is going to be scorpions in a bottle. They will not be able to coordinate, for good or ill.

One scorpion can still do a lot of horrific damage. But large scale inter-agency coordination is unlikely, particularly after the first few months, by which point he will likely (prediction warning!) have gone through a handful of cabinet secretaries already.

FINALLY: The view from inside civil society heading into 2025.

In 2016, Trump was a largely unknown quantity. The left and establishment right alike wasted a lot of time trying to read tea leaves and make sense of this guy, because he was completely outside the realm of what anyone had dealt with. That’s not happening now.

He did us a favor by broadcasting his plans in advance (aka Project 2025). Civil society has spent the last 2.5 years strategizing around it. We’re not starting off flat-footed.

The Biden admin did a good amount to future-proof its own achievements. Folks can speak to their own areas of expertise, but clean energy and CHIPS and Science Act (investing in domestic semiconductor production) have benefitted from huge sunk investments. That money’s not getting clawed back.

OVERALL TAKE-AWAYS:

It's going to suck. But civil society and the political left have some advantages we didn't have last time. We know him, we know his angles, and we know who he's bringing in--none of which we had in 2016.

We'll get through this. It will be grim, but we'll get through it.

John Cutting‬ ‪@johncutting.bsky.social‬

Thanks Meredith. I really valued your analysis over the past few years, and I think this is a reasonable, actionable framework to think about the upcoming storm

Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬

I really cannot overstate how much time was (necessarily) wasted in 2017 trying to figure out this guy and his influences. The fact that he's not only a known quantity, but ran the most over-studied administration in this nation's recent history, makes this a very different game.

John Cutting‬ ‪@johncutting.bsky.social‬

I bet we can weaponize his narcissism. Let's say some ghoul starts making progress with a mass deportation effort, if we start calling that ghoul that "shadow president" en masse, Trump would fire him in right away and appoint Hulk Hogan or something

‪Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬

This is exactly why I don't think Musk will last very long. Trump is very clear that he's the only one in the room allowed to have an ego or any kind of brand name.

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