#Pride Month chain text

[chabothedino]

I sought slutty chain messages for Pride Month. I found them lacking. I made my own. Enjoy.

CALLING ALL EGGPLANT 🍆 GLUCKING DUDES🕺, CLAM 🐚 DIGGING GALS💃, AND GENDER BINARY BASHING BADDIES🚫🚻🤑⚧️ PRIDE MONTH🏳️‍🌈has MOUNTED💦🕳 and ain't leaving til we've all HAD OUR FILL😲💯

Big Daddy 🥺👨 corporations💰have SLICKED🤤up their logos with rainbows🌈 and are THRUSTING‼️them into your news feed🤳📩😩

March🦶your fine ASSES🍑🍑🍑to CHOKE🥴the streets🛣with the fruity🥝🫐🍍and allied✊️✊️✊️mASSES👯

CUNTinue your brick throwing🧱, suckin🍭, and fuckin🙊as the FOUNDING MOMMIES🫡🇺🇸intended❤️🤍💙

TRANSition🏳️‍⚧️to the BEDROOM🛏and SLAY💅🏽the night away🎆⏰️ from the CALIFORNICATORS🏜🥵 to the CONNECTICUMLICKERS🏕👅

LUST🫦joins PRIDE🙌as the TOP🔝 sins🙏we SERVE🫷, and we're RIDING🤠this wave til July🎇🌞CUMS🌊

Send this to🔟of your SWEETEST little SODOMISTS🤭🍑🍌If you get0️⃣back, you have WERK✋️to do! SASHAY AWAY🏃to the doghouse🐶🏚! If you get5️⃣back, you should feel GAY😊because ANYONE could see👀you've been on that GRIND(r)💪and you're straight as a CIRCLE⭕️ If you get🔟back, you're the DOM👑 of the Alphabet Mafia🔫🏳️‍🌈, and all the good little sluts🧎‍♂️🧎‍♀️will line up to kiss💋BOTH your rings😚❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🩶🤍

[scribbles-ink]

sits down in the confessional booth and leans my head against the wall seperating me from the priest. i have a confession father, i really like those tumblr posts where they put an image of a post on top of a character. i think the text posts are funny.

the seat im on collapses and i fall through the floor into hell, the priest on the other side of the wall is holding a button in his hand

[these-posts-arent-real]

I'm ✨️completely fucking exhausted✨️ but decided I needed to do something for pride month anyway, so... take it. Take it and feast.

#:,) #im.so tired

20 notes

🐍 xviper-the-fagx

HAPPY PRIDE MOON!

WAAHOOOOOO!!!!

#pride #pride moon

12 notes

🪺 robbbinpaw Follow

Since it's that time of year (pride moon <3 the second moon of greenleaf is my favorite for a reason...) my brother and I decided to make a bisexual colors flower chain... which reminded me, I've never officially come out, have I?

Well, there you have it. My brother (left) and I (right) found out we were bisexual at about the same time. I'm glad I live in a safe environment where I get to share that part of myself with all of my friends and my family.

#pride #pride moon #bisexual #queer #bi pride

40 notes

🌠 nightshade-tast3s-yummy Follow

>:3 so excited for pride moon, aka the one time I get to make all of my friends and family be extra nice to me because i'm intersex and therefore deserving of much love and appreciation for being queer.

🦋 lalala-bluegaze Follow

Intersex isn't lgbt... intersex is a physical deformity. I hate when cats say things like this and just completely ignore the real implications... like, you don't get to be lgbt just because your body is fucked up

🌠 nightshade-tast3s-yummy Follow

Anyway, intersex is queer no matter what exclusionists say !! What do you think the "i" in "lgbtqia+" standa for?

To my intersex followers, I <3 you and we are all sharing tongues in a queer little circle.

#i just blocked her fyi #i advise my followers to do the same #idiots get blocked #intersex

3,073 notes

🌻 l1llyst3m Follow

In honor of pride, I took some selfies with the trans flag painted on with crushed flowers and herbs! ^^

🌻 l1llyst3m Follow

Since posting this, I have recieved multiple asks stating that they would have known I was trans even if I didn't say because I don't pass very well/my face shape is too tom-like? I have also recieved several asks accusing me of faking being trans because I look too feminine and "calicos can't be amab" (I'm a chimera, fucking mouse-brains).

So yeah. Transphobes really will just say anything.

#trans #transfem #trans she-cat #trans issues #transgender

234 notes

🥬 rxttencatmint

So, it's pride moon... and I'm unable to be out to almost anyone irl except my mentor. And. It sucks. I hate not being able to be loud and proud like I feel like I'm supposed to be... but I'm looking forward to a time when I'll be able to. Someday.

#transgender #trans #pride moon #queer pride #pride

3 notes

🍲 ex-thunderclan-kipper Follow

My housefolk are setting up for pride moon... so here's a photo of my mate and I sitting underneath their decor :3

#gay #gay pride #kittypet life #lgbt #queer pride #collar tw #collars #queer #id in alt text

10,045 notes

🔆 the-post-maker

Hope you enjoyed this post :)) likes/reblogs appreciated, and here's the discord server to talk about this world and the world within this world if you find it interesting enough.

[amvpk01]

PATHETIC YANDERE

unwanted obsession 3

when obsession goes beyond admiration, it turns into repulsion and the search for love becomes a path of rejection.

cw: non-con, obsession, rejection, violence, stalking, humiliation, kidnapping, manipulation, murder, mentions of torture

(sorry if it's bad, I lacked creativity and didn't even proofread this chapter, by the way, last of this Yandere)

previous || masterlist

How would you describe trust? Perhaps a son who leans on his mother for comfort or best friends who are always there for each other.

However, the truth is there was no concrete definition.

Sometimes trust came in the form of keeping a secret, sleeping at the house of a friend who was just a stranger before, or even having food made for you in the knowledge that it wouldn't be poisoned.

Yet humans reimaned weak in the face of emotions and life was just a game that only the egoists survived.

Perhaps you were to blame for getting him obsessed with your touch. 

Your blame for chatting him up at school.

Your blame for messing with his feelings.

Your blame for not blocking him when he texted you.

The regret was real and too painful to handle, but it wasn't possible to go back in time. You have to bear the consequences of your past actions and look for a way to undo them.

The process was slow and you were fully aware of it. The best thing you could do was start with small actions. By stopping pushing him away every time he came near, saying small 'thanks' or ceasing to speak insulting words.

After a month, you had to eat your pride. Whether it was crying for him to sleep with you saying you'd had a bad dream or begging for attention while you hugged him.

It was apparent that he enjoyed it and trusted that you were starting to fall in love with him in the same way he loved you.

But he was no fool, you were a liar, a manipulator and a deceiver. Yet he loved you in the same way.

Therefore, he needed to test you before granting you the tiniest bit of freedom. Like, for example, the first time he took the chain off your neck and then left you alone in the bedroom 'forgetting' to check the door. When in fact he was sat outside the room just waiting for you to attempt to run away. But you remained inside for hours, and not once did you turn the doorknob.

At one point he let you go into the kitchen as you wanted to eat your meal and when he saw your handiwork he was stunned. A few weeks ago he lied saying he was allergic to a certain food but you didn't add it to his food claiming you didn't want to see him get sick.

Perhaps he was already sick in love with you.

Your touch, your caress, and even your kisses left him wanting more. His hands squeezed your breasts and then traveled down to your private area.

"W-Wait! I don't think... I'm r-ready for this yet."

"You've been telling me this for the fifth time now. I'm starting to feel like you're just winding me up." He'd been impatient for a while, and you only teased him with kisses and, in the end, stopped him before he got too far.

He didn't give you time to breathe as he dragged you in for another kiss. No longer would your hands be able to hold him. All the rough kisses and forbidden touches started to disgust you and left you wanting to scream. Then he started to lay you down and suddenly you felt the volume pressing up against your clothed area.

You couldn't allow that to happen without a fight.

"Ow! Was that because I touched you?" Wiping his lip, his finger touched a bit of blood. However, he noticed the way you tried to drag yourself out of the sheets. You were so cute, believing you'd get away with it just by sneaking around like a little mouse.

"Aren't you going to apologize? Love? Are you ignoring me?"

"..."

"..."

"Please don't..."

"Don't you love me? Maybe... this was all just you faking it?"

"What... No, you're mistaken! I just don't wanna do it!"

"You think I didn't notice? You don't like me and have been trying to manipulate me the whole time!"

No, you couldn't let the plan fail like that. Not when it was almost over.

"I love you, Theo! I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. Please believe me!"

"Lies... It's all lies. Maybe I should teach you so you never repeat it."

He freaked out out of nowhere as if he were a wild animal. Tearing your clothes, scratching your skin, and leaving you desperate.

Your attempts to cover yourself were shown to be failures. Your body started to get colder by the second and then realized you had nothing else on. Unlike Theo who was now removing his pants, revealing his swollen member covered by his underwear.

And another time, you tried to run away again but this time you were stopped by a strong pull on your scalp.

"Where do you think you're going, sneaking out like that?"

"Ah! Stop it, you're hurting me!"

"Oh? I am? Good then." Then he plunged your face into the pillow, catching you off guard. Bringing his hips closer to yours, you felt the tip of his cock caressing your entrance. Your screams, pleas, and cries came out incomprehensible through the pillow.

"Uh? What did you say? Do you want me to put it inside? With pleasure my love."

Suddenly it was like being ripped in half, he didn't care that you were dry inside and just shoved it all in at once. At this point you were starting to feel short of breath, maybe it would be better to pass out so you wouldn't have to remember this moment. But it seemed like that wasn't what Theo wanted. He pulled your body closer to his, everything was disgusting to you. His body heat, his possessive touch, and even his groans at being inside you.

"Oh~ So good. My love, can I move?"

"No- Ahh!"

"So warm..."

"No! No! No!! It hurts! It hurts so much! Please stop! Stop it!"

At first, he didn't move, letting you get used to his size. But you were mumbling for a considerable time, so he thought why not give you some pleasure? His hands went against your clitoris, giving small caresses.

He certainly found you adorable by the way you gasped in pain from his cock or refused to let him touch your pussy. It wasn't enough to stop him. And when you came on his dick after he played with your clitoris for minutes straight, he almost passed out with happiness.

Now that you weren't dry inside, he no longer saw any excuse not to fuck you. He turned you to face him with you covering your face from his while he penetrated you. At first, it was weak and slow, it was easy to suppress your moans but as time passed it became rough and fast.

Still, he wanted you to feel the same pleasure he felt. Did he think that a few kisses on the neck and face would solve everything? Nothing improved about the situation.

Most of the time you screamed, scratched his face, and then tried to crawl out of bed. All these attempts resulted in slaps or attempted suffocation.

Just attempts because he would never kill you.

It disgusted you as you felt his warm cum inside you. You could only think of taking the morning-after pill to avoid having a child, a baby that looked like him. All you wanted to do was close your eyes to forget everything, except you noticed his cock was still inside, giving you that uncomfortable feeling in your cervix. Panic was in your eyes as he began to thrust into you again. The smug smile on his face told you that it wasn't going to end any time soon, not when you'd kept him waiting for this moment for so long.

You can't remember when you slept. Even if your memories were messed up, your body would remember what happened. Though there was no stickiness between your legs, you could feel an immense pain from the waist down.

Trying to get out of bed felt like your whole body was under intense pressure, standing up and walking was difficult, but you managed to get in front of a mirror. So there you are, with your body full of bite marks, hickeys, and swollen eyes from all the crying you did last night.

Initially, you believed that he was just emotionally dependent and that you could play with his feelings as long as you didn't leave. However, in the end, he is just a disgusting monster who only takes what he wants in the end.

He didn't deserve to live.

You were going to kill him.

No, you needed to kill him.

The entire day you didn't say a word, nor did you dare get out of bed, hiding under the covers. It didn't matter if he called you, you wouldn't answer.

He didn't miss your bad mood. Theo thought he could cheer you up by treating you like a princess all day. After all, you'd given him immense pleasure last night, and for sure you were tired, so it would only be right to compensate you.

Kisses, affection, your favorite food and even all the attention in the world. At no point did he leave your side, even if you moved away or cried. All you said afterwards was "Leave me alone", which he didn't care about.

Perhaps at some point you freaked out and started throwing all kinds of objects at him to drive him away or break anything you saw in front of you.

"DON'T COME CLOSE TO ME!"

" Love, why don't you control yourself and give me that thing? You'll end up hurting yourself this way." He pointed at the sharp object in your hand, a few seconds earlier you had thrown a vase on the floor and ended up picking up the sharpest piece.

With each passing second, he approached you with a calm countenance, his hands outstretched for you to hand it to him. Glancing down at your palms, you noticed a burning sensation along with a thin line of blood. Then an idea flashed across your mind as you moved your hands closer to your neck.

"If you come any closer... I'll kill myself right here."

"Haha... How funny. Now quit joking and hand it to me."

"Do you really think I don't have the guts?"

"You wouldn't dare." His fear was palpable, you were someone unpredictable and therefore didn't know if you had the courage or not.

As soon as he saw the blade moving, his body acted on its own. His arm being cut off instead of your neck, preventing the blade from coming into contact with you.

He started to contain you by restraining your wrist in the hope that you would drop that sinful item, instead you fought back by kicking him right in the balls. Noticing that he'd dropped to his knees in pain, you didn't missed your chance and shoved the thing into his neck.

For the next few seconds, everything was a blur, Theo choking on his own blood as he tried to come to near you, as if the sight of you would make him less afraid of dying.

The gray carpet, red. Blood staining your feet along with the sounds incomprehensible and mumbling in the background. Neither the sound of your heart nor the cold pressure of the room consoled you at any time.

Yet you couldn't remain paralyzed at that moment, you needed to take action.

"Haha... How funny. Now quit joking and hand it to me."

"Do you really think I don't have the guts?"

"You wouldn't dare." His fear was palpable, you were someone unpredictable and therefore didn't know if you had the courage or not.

As soon as he saw the blade moving, his body acted on its own. His arm being cut off instead of your neck, preventing the blade from coming into contact with you.

He started to contain you by restraining your wrist in the hope that you would drop that sinful item, instead you fought back by kicking him right in the balls. Noticing that he'd dropped to his knees in pain, you didn't missed your chance and shoved the thing into his neck.

For the next few seconds, everything was a blur, Theo choking on his own blood as he tried to come to near you, as if the sight of you would make him less afraid of dying. The gray carpet, red. Blood staining your feet along with the sounds incomprehensible and mumbling in the background. Neither the sound of your heart nor the cold pressure of the room consoled you at any time. Yet you couldn't remain paralyzed at that moment, you needed to do something.

One year has passed since his death. Everything seemed unreal and you often found yourself recalling that it had happened.

Fortunately, you weren't in your fertile period when having sex with him, so it turned out that you didn't get pregnant. One less problem.

Many people say that when a traumatic event occurs, the adrenaline and despair leave your mind cloudy and foggy, not letting you think about anything. But your action after killing someone had proved otherwise.

Your case ended up becoming famous on social media, mainly because of a phone call made by you. A phone call after you killed your kidnapper.

"Hello? This might be odd to say .... but I ended up killing someone... My kidnapper, Theo whatever his last name was.... Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, I'm [Name] [LastName]!"

You'd swear that 85% of your time was wasted watching edits of fictional characters with your audio, it was hilarious to see.

But even though it was possible to see your calmness at the time, your parents urged you to go to therapy, at first you tried but the mere fact that you kept returning to the same topic made you stop.

Taking that help would mean that Theo had impacted your life in a good or bad way and you'd rather die than admit that. In fact, it's him who's dead and not you, just thinking about it makes you laugh. At the end of the story, he'd lost and you were still alive, making a life for yourself.

Currently you were studying at the university of your dreams after passing a difficult exam. You had a big group of friends who all had the same acid humor. Also got a new pet, a super affectionate kitten called Merry. The first time you saw it, you almost died of cuteness.

Perhaps in the end you'll always have a good life while he rots in the ground.

[tortiefrancis]

♿️ ♾️ Happy disability pride month!!

[ ID: Digital, stylized artwork of five people and a cat sitting around the Disability flag, against a pastel blue background with pastel yellow stars doodled around. Above them is navy blue text that reads: "Feliz mês do orgulho PCD" (Translation: Happy disability pride month). The people, from left to right, are:

1) A thin woman with medium tone skin, dark brown eyes and a long, dark brown wolf cut with blue tips and spiky bangs. She wears dark makeup, earrings, a chocker, a cross necklace, a long sleeved mesh shirt, a dark tank top with the wheelchair symbol in the center, black shorts, a big, black belt with a chain on the side and a black boot. She has one amputated leg and uses blue crutches. She smiles, eyes half open.

2) A young child with dark tone skin, dark brown eyes and short, dark, curly hair. He wears a long sleeved green shirt with blue and yellow striped on the wrists, cyan pants and dark blue shoes with yellow lightning bolts. He holds a blue teddy bear with yellow ears. He has Treacher Collins Syndrome. He smiles.

3) A fat woman with light tone skin, green eyes and short, red-ish hair with a white streak. She wears glasses, a pink tank top, blue pants with white stars, light blue shoes and a medical bracelet. She has a cleft lip scar, a heart surgery scar, white patches on her skin due to piebaldism, and also moles. She smiles, doing a peace sign with one hand.

4) A thin man with light medium tone skin, sharp, brown eyes, a thin beard and medium length, wavy, green hair with a shaved side. He wears a black and white t-shirt with yellow stripes on the sleeves, black pants and red shoes, as well as two pins; an orange one with the schizophrenia symbol, and a red one with the autism symbol. He has scars on his wrists and a semicolon tattoo there as well. He smiled. Next to him is a gray and white cat with an "Emotional Support Animal" vest.

5) A thin person with pale skin, blue-ish eyes and a short, coily, white afro. They wear sunglasses, a white flower necklace, a blue, long sleeved shirt, a beige sweater vest and a long, brown skirt. They also wear hearing aids, which are beige. They have albinism and strabismus. They smile.

/End ID ]

🇵🇸 Digital Art Raffle . 🇵🇸 Sketch Commissions . 🇵🇸 Gaza Fundraisers . 🇨🇩 DRC Aid . 🇸🇩 Sudan Aid

[coraniaid]

Buffy for the character asks?

General opinion/how much I care about them:  What can I say about Buffy Summers? When she was fifteen years old a representative of an ancient mystical order told her that she alone had the power to stop bad things from happening in the world, thereby confirming something she had hitherto only strongly suspected.  She had to keep a fundamental part of her life secret from the world for years but she never learned how to tell a convincing lie because she was too busy thinking up puns.  She had a 95th percentile SAT score despite mostly studying in between fighting vampires in a cemetery every night and cutting classes to sneak out of school and fight yet more vampires during the day.   All her favorite teachers died or never noticed she existed.  She is both a quintessential only child and somebody who would fight a god to save her annoying little sister.  She blackmailed the management of a fast food chain so that they would let her keep doing a minimum wage job she hated with co-workers whose last names she can’t remember.  She burned down her old high school gym and blamed it on mice and blew up her new high school library while she was at her graduation ceremony and she sunk her hometown into a giant hole in the desert and drove away in a school bus.  She died twice before she turned twenty-one.  She is one of my favorite fictional characters in any medium.

A ship I love: I didn’t really talk about why I love Fuffy in my Faith answer, so let me try now.

Of all of Buffy’s shadow selves, Faith is the one who spends the most time actually in her shadow.  She doesn’t get later character development that takes her in a different direction and makes her her own person; she didn’t start out as something else entirely and get reworked later when the plot required it.  She doesn’t even get the illusion of a family and moments of happiness, like Drusilla has in Season 2.  When Faith’s not hanging out with Buffy she’s sitting alone in her motel room or lying in a coma or counting down the months in jail.  She exists to be a version of Buffy who is not Buffy, who is worse than Buffy, who doesn’t have friends or family or any external support.  That’s really all she is.  And she knows it.  And she hates it.  How could she not?  “You get the Watcher, you get the Mom, you get the little Scooby gang … what do I get?”

Because Faith is Buffy – the part of Buffy who never came back after she ran away from home and got kicked out of school; the part who can admit to craving a little more than low-fat yogurt after a night patrolling; the part that never got to make friends with Xander and Willow in Season 1 and never had a Watcher who cared about her –  so on a fundamental level Fuffy is about Buffy accepting those suppressed and hidden angry parts of herself.  But it’s also about Faith accepting the forgotten and ignored parts of herself that are present in Buffy: the idea that she can be a hero, that there are people in the world who care about her, that there are people who she can trust.  It’s about asking what if all of the Season 3 subtext – Faith’s whole arc this season paralleling Angel’s a year ago, and “what are friends for?” and “It’s kind of a Slayer thing”, and Joyce marching in the Slayer Pride Parade – was text, and what if the show existed in a world where the characters could act on it?

And because of how Season 3 turns out, it’s also about Buffy and Faith forgiving themselves, and each other, for doing almost unforgivable things to each other.  Because there were never meant to be two of them, and they’ve never been able to tell each other what they mean, and because “kill me, you become me”, but she tried and it didn’t help.  And it’s about crappy presents and knives to the throat and forehead kisses and shared dreams and hopelessly entangled destinies.  It’s ”She could be terrified.  Maybe [...] she’s sorry and she’s alone” and “You think you matter, you think you’re a part of something, and then you get dumped” and “All my life there was one person who tried to be my friend” and “I tried so hard to help you and you spat on me” and “Willow said you needed me.  Didn’t really give it much thought.”

As much as I wish Faith was in Season 7 more, part of me is glad that this is all we got, because I really don’t think the show could ever have done all this justice. And the little we get is enough to make me a bit crazy.

A non-romantic relationship that I love: I already talked about Buffy and Willow, so I will try to subvert expectations a little here and go with Buffy and Giles.  Not the fandom version of their relationship I like to complain about where Giles is an uncomplicated Good Dad, but the messy and complicated and heartbreaking version where he just won’t allow himself to be that person.  

I mean, I think it’s very clear from the show that Giles really does care about Buffy far beyond the extent he is supposed to as a Watcher (he tries to go and fight the Master in her place! Even though he knows it would kill him!  Even though this is Season 1 of the show and we’ve not yet seen Giles fight a single vampire!) but that everything about his training and his past tells him that he shouldn’t.  Buffy cares about Giles a lot (“You can’t leave me, I can’t do this alone” / “it’s a little like having Mom back”) and it’s clear that she would really like Giles to be more involved in her life (she wants her Mom to invite him around for Christmas, she goes to his house for Thanksgiving, she tries so hard not to show how hurt she is when she confuses his attempts to be dispassionate with genuine disinterest) but Giles is convinced that he cannot be that sort of parental figure for Buffy and it would only hurt her if he tried, and so – by purposely distancing himself from her and not letting her get close to him– he ends up hurting her in exactly the way he fears.

And the tragedy is that I think Giles really does believe the line he keeps feeding Buffy about how important it is not to be “distracted” by “personal concerns”.  When Quentin Travers told him he had “a father’s love” for Buffy, Travers meant it as a rebuke – and that’s exactly how Giles takes it.  He thinks getting closer to Buffy would be bad for her!  He thinks by leaving her in Season 6 he is helping her become self-reliant and a better Slayer!  Of course he is wrong, but that’s what he thinks, and it is consistent with how he’s always thought.  It’s not character assassination or some unjust subversion of his previously established personality: it is a natural and predictable and awful thing for him to do.  And he does it because he cares about her and doesn’t know what to do about that!  He thinks she’s a much better person than he is (“she’s a hero, you see.  She’s not like us”) and he doesn’t want to bring her down to his level!  “If you care so much about [these people], why didn’t you leave town?” Ethan asked him in The Dark Age, and Giles didn’t have an answer!

The NOTP: Going to cheat a bit here (honestly, mostly because it feels a bit mean to keep picking on Xander at this point), and say that the ship I don’t like isn’t with a specific person but rather with an idea that I see applied to all sorts of ships.  Namely the idea – not supported at all by the text – that Buffy’s various romantic interests are Good People who teach Buffy important life lessons and make her a better person or protect her from the dangerous world around her.  I mean, sorry, but this is not how it works! This is a boring fantasy you have projected onto the show in place of what it was actually telling you.  The feminism of BtVS is paper-thin, but give it some credit!

In canon, Buffy absolutely does not learn from her boyfriends.  She does not rely on them for emotional support.  They all cause her more problems than they help her.  She rescues them.  She makes them better.  Honestly her boyfriends all kind of suck.  Because that’s her type!  She likes losers with no friends who are kind of obsessed about Buffy Summers! (Losers just like Faith!)

Buffy textually hates it when Angel talks down to her: we see repeatedly how furious she gets when he treats her “like a kid” or makes important decisions about their relationship on her behalf.  She doesn't mind physically upstaging Riley (“I was holding back a little”) and secretly likes it when he gets hurt because, to quote Dawn, “she says you look even cuter when you’re all weak and kitteny”. The iconic twin shots of Spike and Buffy in The Gift and After Life are deliberately staged so that Spike is looking up the stairs at Buffy and she is looking down at him (“you’re beneath me”, as she told him in Fool For Love).  And as she says later in Conversations With Dead People:  “Their opinions don’t matter.  They don’t know.  They haven’t been through what I’ve been through [...] I feel like I’m better than them.  Superior.”

So, you know, the preferred power balance is pretty explicit here! I don’t think the show is being excessively subtle. And yet people keep insisting that, oh no, Buffy learns a lot from her boyfriends, or that she can’t possibly cope without their support, or writing fanfics where they swoop in to town to rescue Buffy from trouble. But that is not who Buffy is!  She is not some unsophisticated naif or damsel in distress.  She would hate that so much!  Ship Buffy with whoever you want, but let her be Buffy!

… but also, yeah, rewatching the second season really reminded me how awful I’d have found Buffy/Xander and how glad I am that the show stops hinting at that after Becoming.  Sorry, Xander.  You can take solace in being … well, a loser with friends?

My biggest headcanon about them:  Some time after Chosen Buffy definitely goes back to college and gets that English degree she deserves.  I don’t want to think about Buffy living in a gloomy castle in Scotland and still being forever isolated from the world or about her becoming a cop with superpowers or whatever other nonsense the comics insist happens to her after the show ends.  I want her to be able to have some time off and read some poetry and make Willow jealous academically.

An idea for a fanfiction I would like to write/read about them: One day I will finish my Season 7 rewrite in which Drusilla is the Big Bad and Faith gets broken out of prison earlier and Amy and Willow get to have a proper resolution and Kennedy is another Slayer from the start and Marcie and Ethan come back for cameos and people remember that Jesse and Kendra ever existed and Dawn actually gets something to do.  But first I will probably have to start writing it.

Something that makes me think of them: Nothing makes me think of Buffy.  I choose to be like this (for some reason).

[elhopper1sm]

Trans FTM! Jess Mariano x Male Reader

Title: If This Gets Out

TW: Transphobia, mentions of outing, child neglect

Summary: Jess had been getting close with his beloved tutor. And he decided to come clean about the real reason he moved to Stars Hollow.

Jess Mariano was not usually fond of his tutors. He had a thing against everything about school. He hated being controlled. He loved learning but only if it was on his terms. He was failing his classes surprisingly enough English literature was on the list. Which made no sense because he was more than able to write perfectly fine and speak coherently. That's when the school requested he see a tutor. While you weren't the brightest student you had a way with relating to more difficult students like Jess. After you guy's first meeting in the library your cold approach of understanding why he doesn't want to learn and do things and reverse psychology methods of encouragement get to him and he speaks to you about what he cares about. He likes how you can keep a conversation and how you can discuss very high level ideas. You help give him the courage to branch out into things he's interested in. But he's still not fully comfortable. After your first official date with Jess you decide to ask him why he moved to Stars Hollow. After shoving mouthfuls of food in his face from Luke's Diner he opens up but not too much.

"My mom she had other priorities. Chasing some guy across New York. And my uncle Luke lives here and is far more equipped to handle me so I... Instead uh thought it would be best to come here and live with him" Jess tried to keep the conversation brief he hated talking about his past.

You smile and nod. But you're so curious you can't help but ask more. Your whole first date was filled with questions

"What do you miss about New York" You asked.

He smiled still mouth full of food stuffed to the brim.

"The many places you could just find one of a kind shops and pop ups surrounded by large chains. It was something else. Oh and the cheap street food".

After your first date you get the feeling he doesn't like talking about his life in New York. There's something he's hiding. And you don't know what it is but you're determined to figure it out.

After a few months into dating the conversation comes up of "what are we". He's even introduced you to Luke but with Jess' playboy past you decide it's good to have things official. Jess seems uncharacteristically nervous. He knows making it official means being honest about some things he's been hiding.

"We're hanging out" Jess replies with his arm around you.

You almost feel like crying. All this time you thought it was certain you both were dating and he hits you with the 'we're just handing out'. You swallow your pride and respond

"Yeah that sounds good. Just hanging out why not" You choke back some of the tears from your face you hated Jess seeing you like this. But you hated him more for doing that to you.

Over the next few weeks after that conversation you've grown distant. You stopped going to the library with him and only really spoke to him at Luke's. Jess suddenly can't take it anymore and he comes in through the window.

"Y/N what's going with you?. You won't respond to my calls or texts or anything. We barely speak. What's up?" He says. He was desperate for an answer.

"Jess you know what's wrong!" You scream at him.

He seems shocked you've never screamed at him before. Even when he was the difficult kid you were forced to tutor you never screamed at him.

"Y/N. Sweetie what's going on?"Jess says as he moves closer to you sensing that you're upset.

You wipe the tears from your face and look up at him.

"You said we were 'just hanging out'. You don't want to be seen with me is that it? You don't want Uncle Luke to think of you different if you're dating a guy right? That's what it is. So if you claim we were never official you don't have to right?. I should've known you'd never commit to anything"You said

You hold back from screaming you were crying silently and trying to do that for long makes your throat hurt.

Jess put his face in his hands. He didn't know what to say. But he needed to make things clear

"There's something I've been hiding. But it's not you it's me" He says before you cut him off

"oh don't give me that bullshit! Jess Mariano I think you know better than something so fucking cliche. This is pathetic just spit it out!" you were screaming now at him

"OK FINE! ALRIGHT FINE Y/N. YOU WANNA KNOW WHY I ACTUALLY LEFT NEW YORK! I'LL TELL YOU."He says

His tone loosens up and he relaxes his voice he's no longer screaming

"When I was ten my mom got out of a bad relationship and so we moved across the state of New York to New York City.I realized I could be someone else there. Someone different. I could be Jess. I started a new school and everything went super well. Until I got outed. Not as Jess but as Stephanie. Stephanie Mariano. I was outed as trans. I just could barely show my face at school. I skipped class all the time and my grades were slipping. Then my mom decided she wanted to send me here to check with my uncle Luke. She wanted to cause a new guy and thought I wouldn't make it on my own in New York. And it was my chance to leave. And no one here knows that I'm trans. And it's been nice ok. And I couldn't make it official with you because that would require opening up about it. I'm sorry ok! Are you happy? Are you happy now Y/N?" He says finally letting all that off his chest

You cup his face and hold him....

"I love you Jess Mariano. I'm so sorry that happened to you. Your secret is safe with me" You tell him as you smile. You finally had what you wanted honesty. You were beyond proud.

"Good because if this gets out...."He says before you interrupt him

"Let's not think about that. I won't tell a soul. What's said in this room between us is like confession. We don't talk about it. It stays between us. This room is like Vegas. What happens in here stays in here" You cut him off.

He feels relieved.

"So can I make things official now?" He asks

"Yes" you respond

"Will you Y/N Y/L/N be my boyfriend?" Jess finally said.

"Of course" I replied.

[lostonehero]

Hey remember that QuickQuestion fic I have?

Yeah, it's pride month. Here's a short from that universe.

"Tim, aren't you being a bit paranoid?" Bernard held Tim's hand as they walked through Hub city. "Gotham isn't that bad to have a date in."

"Bernard, I don't need my family interrupting us every 5 seconds. They won't go here, and it's during the day we'll be fine." Tim huffs.

"I'm just saying Hub City isn't excatly known for being a great -" Bernard stops accidently walking into a red-headed man. "Oh, I'm sorry."

Tim knew who the man was immediately. "Shit."

The redhead man smiles. "Oh my god, hi Tim! Are you on a date?"

Bernard raised a brow. "Thought you didn't know anyone in Hub City." He smirks.

"Oh, I'm not from here, I'm from Central City. I'm Wally." Wally smiles and holds out his hand.

Tim groans. "Why are you even here?"

"I'm going on a date?" Wally clicks his mouth shut. "Wait, wait, you didn't hear that!"

Bernard and Tim exchange a glance, and both share a smirk. "A date, huh?" Tim hums. "So you're dating someone, and you don't want the league to know."

Wally covers his face. "Shush! I will tell Bruce you're here!"

"It would be worth it." Tim's smirk only grows.

A taller redhead approaches the three men. He scans over the three and raised a brow. His expression is tired from the eye bags alone, and he's wearing a punk shirt of his own band. He has spiked thick bracelets and jeans with chains. He rubs his eyes and yawns. "Hello."

Bernard gasps. "You're the lead singer of Devil in the Church! Holy shit!"

Tim, who has no idea who that is. "What."

The other redhead hums. "It's Vic, but yes."

"You're afraid of them knowing you're dating a punk singer?" Tim raised his brow.

Wally huffs. "You can not tell them!"

Bernard nods eagerly. "Yeah, yeah, are you playing tonight?"

"No." Vic sighs clearly not bothered in the slightest and seemingly grateful for this type of interaction. "Do you want to join us?"

"What?" Wally blinks.

"What?" Tim looked bewildered.

"Yes!" Bernard looked ready to explode from excitement.

Vic smiles. "Cool, there's a cafe down the way we're heading to."

Wally grabs Vic and whispers in his ear. "What are you doing?"

Vic is not missing a beat. "This is going to be hilarious."

"Vic, we're meeting with Oliver and Dianah for... oh.... OH." Wally bites his lip.

Vic takes the kead as he starts a casual conversation with Bernard as Tim tries to butt in but has no idea about his music.

.......

"I hate that I'm starting to feel comfortable in this city." Oliver crosses his arms as he sinks into the booth.

Dianah laughs. "Oh, come on, this is our double date spot. I would be surprised if you weren't getting comfortable."

Oliver huffs again. "It's like another planet here. I can literally be in public, and nobody cares."

"It's Hub City. What do you expect?" Dinah smiles waving spotting Vic then pauses seeing Tim and Bernard and then Wally. "Ollie." She grabs his arm and points.

Tim stares at the pair like a deer in headlights. "Fuck."

Vic has a shit eating grin on his face as he approaches the booth. "Ran into Wally's friends on the way also on a date."

"You're a devious motherfucker." Oliver bites back a laugh. "Hey Little Timmy, grab a seat and bring your boyfriend."

Tim covers his growing red face.

Bernard stops. "I'm sorry, is that Oliver Queen."

Tim groans. "Yes."

"Wait, does that mean Vic is also yaknow." Bernard stops and Tim whips his head up.

Vic smirks. "Am I what?"

Wally sighs. "You're enjoying this way too much."

Dianah laughs and snaps a picture of the two. "I'm texting Bruce."

"If you do, I'll expose who Vic is!" Tim shouts.

"Good luck with that." Vic smirks.

Oliver chuckles. "Old Bruice doesn't even know."

Tim quietly. ".....fuck."

[dailydemonspotlight]

It might be cool to see dullahan for pride month. I don't think any original stories about dullahan are particularly queer but her depiction SMTIV is something I think about a lot. Taking a red pill and changing gender is definitely a more accurate interpretation of the matrix than other times people talk about the red pill at least lol

Dullahan - Day 49 (Request)

Race: Haunt

Alignment: Neutral-Neutral

June 6th, 2024

Yeah, shoutout to the random NPC in SMT IV who eats a red and instantly transes their gender. A true icon. Today's Demon of the Day is a very common fixture of medieval fantasy, however, and not just a bit of someone's true identity- the headless knight of no renown, Dullahan. Headless Horsemen are a common sight in many tales spanning Europe, the subjects of many a legend or fairy tale, but each of these halloween fables can trace their roots all the way back to Celtic myth, in the form of this unseelie fairie... or so some think. In truth, the origins of the Dullahan are unclear and murky, much like the foggy skies it mingles within, so let's dig in!

Ireland is no stranger to weird fairy tales- as the place where the term fairy originated from, Celtic myth is filled with tales upon tales of weird, loveable goons that paint stranger and stranger pictures of the times each time one thinks about them. Whether it be the oh-so-elusive Cat-Síth or the inanely wailing Banshee, Celtic folktales are filled to the brim with creatures at the forefront of each and every story... which is what makes the Dullahan so bizarre. While the concept of a headless horse-riding knight isn't too out there, especially in comparison to some other fairies (looking at you, Pooka), very few primary sources actually attest to the existence of the Dullahan, whether it be by name or concept alike.

However, in spite of this, we do have a few historical accounts- this makes the Dullahan's existence frustratingly vague, to say the least, as it's impossible to say if it did or did not exist- either possibility is plausible, especially given that artwork depicting the Dullahan does exist, dating back to the 1800's. As according to Doris V. Sutherland, the earliest reference to the Dullahan can be found in 1802, within a text written by Charles Vallancey called "Prospectus of a Dictionary of the Language of the Aire Coti, or Ancient Irish, Compared with the Language of the Cuti, or Ancient Persians, with the Hindoostanee, the Arabic, and Chaldean Languages." Kind of a mouthful. Within the book, which is a compendium of all sorts of languages and drawn comparisons between them (among all sorts of other stuff, I'm too lazy to find a free copy of it online though lol), there is a segment in which Vallancey draws a comparison between the Irish Dullahan and an Arabian demon, the Wulahan.

"The Dullahan or Wullahan is a terrible bug-bear at this day; the peasants hear him in the night dragging a heavy chain through the villages and along the roads; this is the wulahan, or Satanas of the Arabs…"

As pointed out by Sutherland, though, the brief description given of only a few passages has no mention of it being headless. So why is it commonly seen as being headless? Skip ahead a few years and we get to a book by Thomas Cofton Croker going into the fairies of Irish folklore, and stories pertaining to them. Among the many fairies listed in this book, entitled "Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland," we get to our second mention of the Dullahan! In one of five segments, a tale is given regarding a man named Larry Dodd who gets a random hitchhiker one day atop horseback- a mysterious woman whose every feature was covered by a cloak. She climbs aboard after he offers so, and they take off.

After a few moments of silent, uncomfortable riding, the woman exits suddenly to head to a nearby church. Smitten, Larry chases after the woman to try and pursue a thank-you kiss, but when he catches up with her... shock! Horror! She has no head! So that's where the idea of the Dullahan came from as being headless- and likely why the Dullahan in SMT is so feminine in appearance as well. After witnessing a dance of the Dullahans in the dead of night, he's decapitated... only to come to a few hours later, confused from the whole sordid affair.

This tale is only one of four, however- the general idea of Dullahans and the Headless Horsemen being synonymous actually came from this same book as well. A later story is, well, quite literally the fable of the Headless Horseman! From these tales, we can glean quite a few things- almost every account of the Dullahan comes from this book, with the name being spurned from the Prospectus and its offhand mentioning of the 'Irish Dullahan' as though it were common knowledge. I'm of two minds here, personally- for one, it's entirely possible that Croker, pardon my french, just made some shit up, basing his fables on pure speculation as to what the Dullahan name could mean by connecting it to the Arabian Wulahan. However, the other possibility, one that I personally subscribe to, is that the Dullahan was a part of the tapestry of Celtic folklore- it was just obscure.

The tales presented clearly speak of the Dullahan as though it were a preexisting concept, and the offhand mention of its existence in the Prospectus seems to give light to the idea that it did, indeed, exist in the cultural consciousness to some extent. Of course, this is all purely guesswork on my end- unless Croker digs himself out of his grave to answer my burning questions, I doubt I'll find an exact answer to this line of thinking- but I think it makes the most sense given what little information we have to work off of.

Now, in terms of representation in SMT... It sure is a headless knight. One aspect I really adore in this design, though, has to be the way the top of the head appears- the implication of the Dullahan being able to freely attach and detach its head like the joints on a Bionicle is hilarious, and gives a whole new line of depth to this already cool looking design. The silver, deep purple, and gold all combine to make the knight look regal, as though it was a stalwart protector of a kingdom under the king's right hand that had now fallen into disrepair. Somewhat fitting, given that it appears most prominently in SMT IV as a boss!

Lastly, though, I've gotta say I'm so glad we're almost to 50 posts. I didn't expect this series to last this long, and we've got a big, big one coming up for post 50, so I hope you're all excited! Happy Pride Month, and I need to say thanks for sticking with me, all this time.

[burberrycanary]

For the fic commentary game...I want to ask about so many lines, but ok. I've narrowed it down to three from Lost Vocabularies..., so you can pick—I'd be so interested to get your author's commentary on any (or all) of them! 💛

He will never forget nine months of stock prices from 1950.

(this is the one I'm probably least likely to get an answer to, which is fine, but I'm so very curious about what Steve did during those months in the past, and a girl's gotta try! 😜)

2. But he sure as hell doesn’t want them back, not so long as Bucky is willing to carry them, whatever they mean to him now—though Steve doesn’t like to think how Bucky must have found them and when.

(Basically, I just like to make myself sad about Bucky Barnes, so hey: talk to me about the dog tags!)

3.

“Why were you always signed up for something? You already took more vocational classes than about anybody.”

[…]

“Trying to impress my dad,” Bucky admits on a slow breath out. “But not in the way he wanted. ‘One of the laborin’ Barnes with a proper education,’ he liked to say. ‘Bastards won’t know what hit ‘em.’ He wanted me to live out that better American life he was chasing. Be respectable.” Bucky gives a faint dry laugh. “Sorry Pops.”

(I know this is more than one sentence...but I'm just endlessly fascinated by Bucky's (and Steve's) pre-war life and especially Bucky's relationship with his parents and how he feels about them now, after everything. So, if you'd be willing to elaborate on that snippet up there (I'm particularly intrigued by But not in the way he wanted), I'd be ecstatic!

(📦&🧼&◼&⬜-🔪)

2. But he sure as hell doesn’t want them back, not so long as Bucky is willing to carry them, whatever they mean to him now—though Steve doesn’t like to think how Bucky must have found them and when.

Crying into our beers over Bucky Barnes should be the name of our band. 😭🍻😭

The dog tags were such a distinctive element in TFATWS that I knew I wanted to use them in this post-Endgame fix-it series that ended up sprawling out to a bigger scope than I originally intended. But the first question from canon to consider is: whose dog tags are they, anyway?

In the surgery flashback from CATWS, we see that Bucky is no longer wearing his dog tags, which means they were taken away by Hydra. And this makes sense since Hydra was starting the process of completely stripping away Bucky’s identity. What Hydra does with Bucky’s dog tags depends on what kind of organization Hydra is, culturally and administratively. While you could write any number of stories here, especially since Bucky, as a specific known recovered asset, isn’t what the Japanese scientists in Unit 731 called “maruta” (“wooden logs”) or what the CIA-run black sites in West Germany under Project Bluebird called “expendables,” you could argue that Zola might keep Bucky’s dog tags for any number of reasons: spite, gloating, pride, or a perverse attachment to his greatest success. But the most rational course of action would be to destroy anything that could identify Bucky as a well-known American soldier—because this era of American history shows you could get away with not just murder but crimes against humanity as long as you played by certain bureaucratic rules. And this is the organization that Peggy Carter built, canonically, and the era that Steve returns to in Endgame—"the dark and bloody heart of the twentieth century [that] beat and maimed all the unsteadiness out of Bucky’s hands long ago." 

I’d argue these aren’t the dog tags that we see Steve wearing when he wakes up in the fake recovery room, which would have been replaced as part of the attempted deception, but instead the ones that he was wearing when he went into the ice, which would’ve been returned once the jig was up: 

Hanging around Bucky’s neck on a bright beaded chain are tarnished dog tags with the raised text turned, here and there, the pale green of copper eaten away by time.

I’ll admit I did look up the composition of WWII dog tags and scanned through some research papers on the corrosion levels in metal equipment used in the Arctic before deciding that I could just take a little literary license here and have Steve’s old dog tags be thematically “tarnished,” which in the text is explicitly tied to the theme of things being transformed over time, but the word also carries the connotation of something that’s sullied. For the dog tags, both meanings hold. 

My backstory headcanon is that Sam, who was the executor of Steve’s will and his chosen next of kin, invited Bucky to go through Steve’s surprisingly few personal effects for anything he wanted to keep before Sam donated the rest to museums. All Bucky took was the last, unfinished, mostly empty, little notebook and Steve’s old dog tags, which he restrung on a new chain. That’s it. That’s what Bucky is left with as a stranger in this strange land of the present. 

In the first glimpse Steve gets near the end of Still Left with the River, he interprets Bucky wearing his old dog tags as indicating that Bucky never stopped caring about him, which is true—Bucky kept on caring a whole hell of a lot. This is Steve’s “it taught me to hope” moment in the text that helps push him toward being honest with Bucky about how he feels after several decades of alternating between pining and grieving, pining and grieving. How many times has the worst already happened between them?

There is always an end to the line where the same big black pit is waiting. And eventually Bucky won’t crawl back out.

But the dog tags are deliberately ambiguous as a symbol, since they equally represent the grief that we see Bucky struggle with in TFATWS. They are Bucky’s chosen gesture of mourning when Steve buries himself in the past. It’s telling that even after Steve returns, Bucky doesn’t take the dog tags off or offer to give them back to Steve again. Whatever they mean, they’re Bucky’s now. And Bucky on some level continues to mourn a faith between them—ineffable and up to that point mutually committed to despite the worst the world could do—that Steve broke when he decided to go back to the past and which returning doesn’t unbreak. Because that’s the problem: “Time only moves in one direction.”

(“There’s a creepy stone somewhere that says otherwise.”

“Exactly.”)

Significantly, over and over, these fraught identification tags are described as occupying the space between Steve and Bucky:

Tipping Steve’s chin up with his thumb, Bucky kisses the blazes out of him while the old dog tags swing a little on their glinting new chain in the space between them.

How Steve left is still very much between them throughout this whole series. 

The scene where the dog tags are revealed as Steve’s is significant:

...Steve’s old dog tags swinging in the space between their bodies; then the warm tender weight of Bucky’s forehead, pressed just off-center against his chest, overlapping with the light touch of metal and the pooling chain; [...] Bucky pressed close, and his face hidden.

The contrary actions of Bucky pressing close but still hiding is how Bucky has chosen to deal with the complicated emotional situation Steve has put him in—the combination of intimacy and distance that shades through most of this series. Bucky is trying to both protect himself and give Steve a good-faith chance to do better. Bucky’s strength and generosity win out in the end, because that’s who Bucky is at heart: the bigger person in a way that has nothing to do with being tall or strong or healthy. But part of the problem of any post-Endgame fix-it is that no one fight or confession or “being shoved in a closet together” shortcut could solve these emotional sticking points. 

Steve really did that. Whatever his reasons or motivations, which this series digs into a lot in the subtext, in the moment Steve meant it. And there’s no way to undo the choices that have been made, not without recourse to an ethically flawed concept that’s the opposite of living: because trying to undo past losses is exactly what Endgame gets wrong by attempting.

Fuck Endgame: the only way out is through. And by “through” I don’t mean Steve passively playing white-picket-fence house with Peggy through the ugly back half of the 20th century and then getting some sort of science-fiction second chance for a life with Bucky, once all that’s over. That’s doubling down on the flawed ethics of Endgame.

Life is a process of making choices, over and over. And living with the consequences. How you live with them is another ethical choice you get to make, over and over. That’s the constant and inescapable ethical action inherent in being alive.

This series is deliberately full of minor characters with losses just as profound as Steve’s: loved ones gone, former ways of life lost, all the small gathered-together pieces that we each painstakingly build into a life vanishing, whether bit by bit or calamitously all at once:

Her face lights up. “Thanks, I make them myself. I��m thinking of going to fashion school, maybe. Textile design. I’ve already died—fuck being scared, right?”

Between war, the Blip and the Return, she has lost every member of what was once a huge family. And life just keeps going on.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Fuck being scared.”

Or:

“Been walking since Greenwood Cemetery. I can’t get to where any of my people are buried so you know what I’ve decided?”

Steve gives a hum, meaning what’s that?  

“I’ve decided to collectivize. Every grave on earth with the first name George is my boy’s. I’ve claimed every Elizabeth—in all forms—and Rachael, Robert and Joseph. Never cared for my husband’s people so I don’t bother with them. But I’ve got some favorites down in Greenwood picked out for my boy. ”

“I’m sorry for your losses,” Steve says, quiet, and thinking briefly of his own most recent dead. He doesn’t add, I know what it’s like to let grief triumph over reality. “So you visit.”

“Every day that I can. Lots of graveyards in this city. But Greenwood is nice. All the flowers and so forth.”

This is a story about grief.

Steve is trusted with great power to help set right wrongs the Avengers did during Endgame, setting all these other timelines on roads to destruction to save their own. And in the face of the temptation of that great fantastical power: the possibility of easy facile answers to unsolvably hard problems about change and loss so many people equally have to confront and hurt over and struggle with—all the time, right now, forever, constantly—Steve Rogers falters:

Preemptive—that idea is never going to seem right to him. But isn’t that what he’d tried to do when he’d stayed in the past? Get the preemptive good life by side-stepping the possibility of more loss? Because, for him at least, one way or another everything that mattered would have already happened.

And still the same old story at the bottom of whatever idealized notions got papered over top: trading other people’s lives for your own security.

He’ll never know whether, if his plan had worked, he would have stayed in the past for good.

And now he’s got to live with that.

If the dog tags in this story stand for anything, it’s living with the consequences.

You can make mistakes. We all do, individually and collectively. But there’s no undoing the past—not even in the MCU’s confused theory of the multiverse. All you can try is to do better: to make right what’s been put wrong as much as you can; or find things that are good and help them be better for more people.

There are deliberately four apologies offered in Lost Vocabularies: two from Bucky and two from Steve. But this is the climactic and closing apology that echoes the same language used to introduce the dog tags into the narrative: 

Pushing Bucky back, he touches the tarnished dog tags where the raised text has turned, here and there, the pale green of copper eaten away by time.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, meaning a whole lot.

Bucky’s response, “We got here,” deliberately sidesteps the question of forgiveness and is designed to be read in two ways. The first reading challenges the relative significance of the past—we reached here however that happened—while the second rejects the past more completely: all we actually ever have is right now.

The thing is, Steve has been angry his whole life and he’s trying so hard to be a little more grateful for a change. 

He’s been doing better and he’ll keep on trying.

But there’s still just so much to be angry about everywhere he looks, from the past all the way through to this moment, burning up in front of him right now: this crawling-forward world that should be better, and isn’t, and won’t be unless people step forward to shoulder the hard slow work with no one to punch and no climactic battle you win or you lose.

This sort of work requires the splendid terrible patience of the tide eating away at a face of rock: mighty and irresistible, but wearisomely slow.

You gotta do the work. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.

A Man Takes His Sadness Down to the River (The Consolation of Philosophy)

[happiness-of-the-pursuit]

Hi! Decided to make an organized list of my AO3 fics, which as of right now are all for Red, White and Royal Blue. Here's a brief but comprehensive breakdown:

My first fics are part of my RWRB YouTube Interviews series (originally inspired by th0ughts' RWRB media fics):

Prince Henry and FSOTUS Alex Claremont-Diaz Answer the Web’s Most Searched Questions (Rating: T, Words: 2,402)

10 Things Alex Claremont-Diaz Can’t Live Without (Rating: M, Words: 2,928)

10 Things HRH Prince Henry Can’t Live Without (Rating: T, Words: 2,527)

Prince Henry and FSOTUS Alex Claremont-Diaz Take a Couples Quiz (Rating: T, Words: 4,941)

The Super Six Take a Lie Detector Test | Vanity Fair (Rating: M, Words: 7,328)

ALEX CLAREMONT-DIAZ COMMUNES WITH HIS ANCESTORS WHILE EATING SPICY WINGS | Hot Ones (Rating: T, Words: 3,068)

PRINCE HENRY SENTENCES US TO THE DUNGEONS WHILE EATING SPICY WINGS | Hot Ones (Rating: T, 3,056)

FirstPrince Sings Queen, Lil Nas X, and Taylor Swift in a Game of Song Association | ELLE (Rating: T, Words: 2,552)

My One Shots:

Freaky Friday (I woke up in my enemy's body): Dual POV Body Swap AU, diverging from canon at Kensington (Rating: M, Words: 8K)

FirstPrince Week Fics, all currently* one shots:

How well you play...that's up to you: a Grey's Anatomy inspired AU (Rating: M, Words: 4K)

Keep this Love in a Photograph: fluffy slice of life, ft. a photo album (Rating: T, Words: 2.6K)

The Starwand: three summer scenes in Texas; past, present, future (Rating: T, Words: 1.7K)

Somebody Call 911: clandestine hookups behind a roommate's back (Rating: M, Words: 2.4K)

Sets on the Beach: intramural beach volleyball, rivals to lovers (Rating: M, Words: 3.6K)

Water over Blood: 5 times a royal loved Alex & 1 time they loved Henry; featuring firstprince as uncles (Rating: T, Words: 3K)

L(ate) S(leepy) A(morous) T(exting): missing scenes of Alex preparing for the LSAT (Rating: M, Words: 1K)

My Multi-Chapter Works:

Claremont 2008: Now Complete. Canon divergence imagining if Ellen was elected in 2008 instead of 2016. 2009 at Buckingham Palace for tea. A sleepover after a quinceañera in 2010. The 2012 London Olympics. A 2014 Model UN Conference. A funeral in 2015. College and another campaign trail. And the texts, facetimes, and chain emails in between. (Rating: M, Words: 26K)

Baby's First Pride: WIP, update will happen but not soon-having some writer's block on this one. This is simply the Super Six planning and experiencing their first pride month after the emails. (Rating: E, Words: 10K)

I also have a co-written Percy Jackson AU with @inexplicablymine and @read-and-write-. I'll do my best to keep this updated :)

*planning on and expanding one of the FPW fics

[atticsandwich]

nightbringer lesson 40 was bittersweet 🥲 the hard mode reunion felt indicative of something but we'll see.

spoilers but also not really but just in case under the cut

also this lesson more or less put lucifer in the forefront of my nightbringer suspects. i talked about having a theory about that months ago but i never got around to making a post about it 😵‍💫 the basic premise of the theory is that irl lucifer is also known as the light-bringer (morning star also calling to this, the phenomenon of a planet or star (most prominently sirius) appearing on the horizon before sunrise) so nightbringer might be a play off of this OR the fact that the moon's light itself is a reflection from a star (sun) etc etc i cant really explain the nuance of my thought process here LMFAO

anyways one of my biggest calling points that made me think of luci=nb again is that during the scene when MC spends time with him in his study, he gives an angel's blessing and the game specifically highlights the moment he says "now... and the future" (too lazy to grab screenshots i am at the airport LMFAO) and while yes it could have simply been an overall statement of him wanting MC to be happy always, something about the way it's highlighted AND the fact that he also talked about being trapped forever in cocytus if not for the fact he met MC made me think about nightbringer's motives.

anyways. so now the finalized form of that theory is that nightbringer is lucifer of an alternate timeline where he (and his brothers) never got to meet MC and thus he never fully escaped cocytus

TO BE FAIR THIS THEORY HAS HOLES GALORE SO THIS IS JUST FOR FUNNNNN PLS PUT DOWN UR TOMATOES I AM NOT UR ENEMY HERE GO THROW THEM AT THAT PEDO TWITTER ARTIST KISA anyways. dont ask me about how it could be lucifer when nb is supposed to be the first demon. brother i do not know. although he COULD technically be the first angel turned demon...???? since lilith never got to turn demon before almost dying. hmm. there's some substance there but i am too lazy to pick it apart

"cas what about the whole time travel/multiverse travel thing" listen. it's lucifer. he could have learned how to do it LMFAO I AM RUNNING OUT OF STEAM HERE. but genuinely he's at least strong enough to break the chains that bound him to cocytus so that HAS to count for his power. right. although he did struggle in the small fight with dia that proceeded after. hmmm.

anyways. what really made me think of luci=nb in the first place was nb's mentioned reason for doing it in the first place - happiness. literally. and what does lucifer prioritize more than anything? his brothers' happiness (and after meeting MC, also theirs). it's literally the foundation of his character. his pride doesnt allow him to freely say it but literally everything this guy does is bc he thinks it's the best way to both protect and keep his brothers happy.

not the most interesting theory thanks to my lack of substantial text but i threw this together in like 30 minutes after finishing the lesson LMFAOOOO

[yandere-mha-blog]

Part 4

word count 2,300

Kenny and Dabi were waiting in Kennys’ car by the side of your house, as Dabi was smoking another cigarette out the window.

“So Dabi, why exactly do you like this girl?” Kent asked “I mean, is that your type, you like good girls?”

“You could say that, more like, I like good girls that go bad. It just goes to show what a shithole of a society we live in, that people can be swayed so easily.” dabi said

“That sounds a bit-”

“A bit what kent?” Dabi asked as he held his cigarette a bit too close to his eye

“Nothing, nothing!’ he said

“That's what i thought.” dabi said as he sent you  text that he was outside, he saw your window open and you hopped out the window before closing it and sneaking through the backyard and rushing over to the car and sat in the back

“Oh hi Kenny, didn't know you would be here?” you said

“Oh well i-” dabi interrupted him

“He is just our ride.”

“OH, well thanks for the ride.” you said and buckled up “where are we going?”

“Shibuya.” Dabi said

“Shibuya!?” you said “but thats so far, also i think im-”

“Shush shush.” Dabi said “Kents got it, and we can stop by a store and get you something to wear.”

“What's wrong with what I'm wearing?” you asked

“It's too simple, we are going to the heart of Tokyo, don't worry I'll get you dressed up.” dabi said, an Kent turned the radio on, you looked out the window, it was slightly nerve wracking to see everything while it was dark out, Kent let you two out of the car and Dabi held out his hand, you took it with a bit of hesitation , your felt your heart beating against you chest and you knew your cheeks were red.

“Here it is.” Dabi said as you two entered a store, the clerk welcomed you in. You looked around a bit, nothing really seemed to be your style here. Dabi handed you a couple of clothing items

“What's this for?” you asked

“For you, go try them on.” Dabi answered

“Dabi, I don't think this palace is really my style.” you said

“What do you mean you will look great, and you won't know till you try them on.” he said, as he nudged you to the changing room, oh well won't hurt to try it on.

You opened the door and presente yourself “Like i said i don't think this is really my style…”

“You really think so?” Dabi asked, “I think you look great, altho it's missing one thing.”

He walked over with something in his hand “turn around for me.” you did

He put a small chain around your neck and clasped the back, you looked down and saw a pendant of a little blue flame.

“Oh wow, it's so pretty.” you said as you put your finger on it to feel the stained metal on it.

“Glad you like it, and see it pulls the whole outfit together.” he said, you smiled as you looked in the mirror, it was definitely different, but maybe different was good

“It does.” you said and gave him a smile

“Great.” Hey, can you ring me up? She will be wearing it out.” Dabi said

“Of course.” The clerk said

“Wait dabi, you don't have to pay.” you said

“You are right i don't, but i will, don't fight me on this, you deserve something nice after the bullshit you have been through.” he said and paid for your new outfit, and the two of you hit the town, you held onto his hand as you walked down the street, you felt a sense of pride and confidence as you walked through the large crowd.

Dabi led you into a cake shop, and you got a chocolate torte, and you were happily munching away.

“You happy?” he asked, you nodded your head and swallowed the piece of cake

“Very.” you said “I haven been this happy in months, so thank you, for everything.”

“You're too cute, you know that.”

“Geez you keep calling me cute, what's that about?” you asked

“Well I thought it's pretty obvious that I like you.” Dabi said “and i want you to be my girlfriend.”

You almost dropped your fork.

“Me?” you said

“Who else.” Dabi said as he took a bite “I think we'd make a good couple.”

“Why do you want me as your girlfriend?” you asked “i mean..im nothing special.” “You really think so, you know most people when they see me and know of my reputation, don't even bother to talk to me.” Dabi said “You also remind me a lot of how i use to be, i think you feel…supressed, tormented, be with me and i can promise i can make your life so much better.”

“..you already have.” you said and feed him a piece of cake, he happily took the bite

“So is that a yes?” he asked

“Yes, I'd like to be your girlfriend.” you replied, he gave a soft smile and stared down at the empty plate

“Come on let's get out of here.” he said, you nodded and grabbed your bag and went out the door with him, enjoying the night.

“(name), sweetie can we talk?” your mom asked as he knocked on your door, she sighed “I made you dinner i'll set it outside for you, id still like to talk with you when you are ready.”

She went back to the living room and sighed “I'm worried about her dear.” your mom said as your dad turned the Tv off

“(name) is a smart girl, i'm sure she will be back to normal soon.” He said

“Her friend beat up her teacher and her classmates.” she said “and she came home and was super defensive about the whole thing, she blamed me for calling her school, and i only called the school because she was ditching, because of the bullying.”

“She is going through a hard time…you remember that one time she fell off the swing and hid her injury from us, until it really started to hurt, because she said she wanted to take care of it, she will come to us if anything happens, trust me.”

“I'm trying but I'm still worried she won't even talk to me.”

You were trying your best to beat Dabi at an old school fighting arcade game, but the big old red nemo pixelated K.O sign still popped up on your screen, Dabi let out a laugh of victory.

“See, I told you I was the champion at this.” He said

“Well excuse me but I haven't played that many fighting games-oh lets play that one!” you said pointing to dance, dance revolution.

“I'll pass.” He said

“Fine, I'll just play alone.” you said, he grabbed our hand and pulled you away 

“Here I'll win you a prize from the claw machine.” he said, you huffed but went along with him, you could play DDR some other time after all.

After two tries Dabi pulled the black cat plush out of the claw machine and handed it to you, you looked at the purple eyes of the plush and went

“Aww it's so cute.” you said, and then let out a yawn, you weren't used to staying up this late.

“You getting tired?” He asked, you nodded your head

“Come on, let's go.” He said as he grabbed your hand and led you out heading to the train station

“Shouldn't we call Kenny for a ride?” you asked, dabi shook his head

“He has something else he is doing tonight.” Dabi said

Dabi lead you off the train platform, you were a little confused this wasn't the stop close to your house

“Dabi, this isn't my stop.” you said

“Yup it's mine.” he said, “my place is close by.”

“Oh I thought you were taking me home…” you trailed off

“Oh, you don't want to come to my place?” Dabi asked “You can take the train home if you don't”

“But it's so late.” you said

“Then come on.” Dabi said “I'll be a gentleman.”

You looked around the apartment, it was pretty much empty, a very traditional look to it.

“So I see you like tatami mats.” you said as you sat on the floor looking at the table.

“It's okay.” Dabi said as he sat a water bottle down for you “No, like I chose the place.”

“True, where are your parents? They work later?” you asked and heard the sound of the water bottle plastic crinkle

“They don't live here…it's just me.” Dabi explained “I'M pretty much dead to them, black sheep and all.”

“So they just…set you up alone in this apartment?” you asked

'`Well my dads loaded, and always uses money to fix his problems.’ Dabi muttered on 

“I'm sorry.” you said

“Not your fault I was born into a family of assholes.” Dabi said “remember how i said there is no point in trying to impress assholes, well mine was my dad. He is the type of man, who, if you weren't perfect, you were worthless.”

“And your mom?” You asked

“Not much she could do about him.’ Dabi said “part of me still resents her for not doing anything to stop him, but she was too distracted taking care of my other siblings.”

“You have siblings?” you sked

“Curious about me aren't you.’ dabi teased “But, yup, one younger sister, and two younger brothers, altho i barely know the youngest.”

You sipped on the water bottle and looked around, that would expalint he lack of family photos and mementos.

“You know my name isn't actually Dabi, it's just a nickname I call myself.” Dabi said

“Really!?” you said surprised

“Want to know my real name?” Dabi asked, you nodded your head

“Okay but if i tell you, then you can only call me when we are alone, i don't want anyone else to know, it will be our little secret.”

“I promise.” you said, and he leaned over into your ear

“Toya.” he said

“Toya…” you said  and let out a small smile “Pretty name, but i also like dabi, it seems more you, in a way.”

“Aw thank you, picked it myself.” he said and scooted over to you, “So my little (name), you want to watch anything?”

“I'm fine with anything.” you said

“Kay but if you can't sleep because of a horror movie, I don't want to hear any complaints.”

The next morning you mom walked over to your room and saw you didn't touch your food. She knocked on the door and opened the door

“(name) can we talk-” She said but you weren't there, she looked around your room ust to make sure and saw your window was unlocked.She finished her phone out of her pocket and called you, it kept ringing and nothing, she called again, once again nothing, she sent a text asking why you weren't in your room.

So she did what she thought she should do and called the cops.

“Okay ma’am, so your 18 year old daughter snuck out of her room.”

“Or was taken!?” she yelled

“Ma’am, we deal with a lot of run away cases,a dn technically she is an adult, btu we will file a missing persons report and-”

“Can't you send someone, anyone out to look for her, i have no idea where she could be-”

“Miss, please, calm down, I'm sure she just snuck out, call us if you get any leads.”

“Don't hang up on me-”

“Beep”

“Where could she be?” She asked your dad again, who was trying to think

“I have no idea..do we even know this “friends” name?” he asked

“No..I never asked.” She said, as the door opened and you came walking in the door like nothing was wrong.

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?” She yelled and you almost dropped your bag

“I was out with a friend.” you deadpanned

“You were grounded!” she continued to yell “do you know how worried i was when i saw you weren't in your room!?”

You just shrugged your shoulders. “I'm 18 and I'm not too old to be grounded.”

“No while you are in this house!” your dad said and got out of his chair “You have been acting like a real..a real.”

“Brat?” you suggested “Big shocker.”

“Don't talk to your dad like that?” your mom said, you rolled your eyes

“Are we here yet?” you asked

“Oh that is it!” your mom yelled “Go to your room!”

“No.” you said

“I SAID GO TO YOUR ROOM!” she continued to scream at you, you just remained unblinking and turned around.

“Don't you take one step out that door!” she yelled

“Or what, I'm not allowed in the house anymore.” you said as you went to your room and grabbed your school bag and uniform and shoved them in.

“Oh you are really going to give us this lip?” your dad said “Well If you are such a mature and old 18 year old who still hasn’t even finished high school, then leave, but just know when this all blows up in your face, we will be right here, with a big steaming bowl of i told you so!” he shouted as you headed towards the front door

“Okay.” you said with no hint of remorse in your voice

“(name), do not walk out that door!” your mom yelled, you closed the door and headed back to kenny's car, this was where the old you stayed, and died.

You were eager to start your new life, no more push over, no more hiding, just you being free as a bird, or so you thought.

[cybercookiepainteralmond]

CHAPTER 1 meet Harry O'shaughnessy

Harry O'shaughnessy was exhausted, he woke up on the couch of his family's apartment in a bit of a daze. The previous night was exhausting and he is a little out of sorts upon waking up. He smells good and sighs upon seeing his pajamas were destroyed in the night. Once he changes into a pair of jeans, a black metal band tee shirt and a leather jacket with a pan pride pin on the lapel, Harry is a skinny kid, not unhealthy so but still, he has a pair of round glasses on his face in front of his emerald green eyes and a lightning bolt scar on his head, his unruly mess of black hair is styled into a side shave with the tips dyed a golden yellow he heads over to the kitchen and sees his dad, Jawbone O'shaughnessy a werewolf in his hybrid form with lightish brown fur, wearing khakis and a metal tee, making oatmeal, his cousin Tracker, a lightish brown skinned girl with deep brown hair in an undercut, wearing a sleeveless wolf themed top and jean shorts sitting and giving him a smirk as she says

"Happy birthday little man!"

And giving him a hug, harry fakes embarrassment as he says

"Tracker, don't get hair on my jacket!"

All while Jawbone chuckles, handing out bowls.

"Now you don't get to complain about that Harry, you shed more than her" he says before saying "And for the birthday boy I've got this" and pulls a cake out of the fridge with the text TO THE COOLEST ROGUE THERE'LL EVER BE "You won't believe how far up the chain I had to suck off to get that done"

"DAD!"

"JAWBONE!"

the two teens blush with embarrassment as harry says "Can we please not have the stories this early in the morning?" As he clutches his head from the monthly migraine and Jawbone says "No problem kid, figured I should tell ya, you got into Augefort, that's part'a why I splurged on the cake" as he wipes a tear from his eye while Tracker smiles and says "That's right, my cousin is gonna be an adventurer!" While shaking Harry with a lot of enthusiasm and cheer, a feeling Harry can't help but share as he breaks out into a huge grin, eager to tell his friends as he quickly runs to his room to grab his crystal and text his friends, coming back and saying "Ragh is on his way over right now to celebrate!" While shaking with excitement and accidentally setting himself up for Tracker to say "You sound REALLY happy about that?" Causing Harry to blush and say "S-Shut up, at least I don't tie myself to a wall every month!" As a knock is heard at the door, Harry rushes over to answer and it's a huge half orc wearing a black shirt and jeans, carrying a present with him saying "Happy Birthday bro!" Harry smiles and says "RAGH!" and wraps him in a hug saying "When school starts, you and I are joining the blood rush team." And Ragh instantly nods saying "Hell yeah dude, I already ordered the jackets! Go Owlbears!" And he and Harry both in perfect sync shout "HOOT GROWL!". As the friends celebrate and party the hours away with the O'shaughnessy family, a brief moment of time passes that would make all the difference, a letter sent, a choice made. Who could have predicted this, if not for an Oracle not yet discovered.

In the minutes after the party harry is walking down the hall to talk to a Ms Sklonda Gukgak, when he arrives at the apartment the door is opened by a goblin woman who says "Harry, I'm sorry we couldn't make it by, Riz got himself hurt when spying on the neighbors and I had to get him to the hospital" Harry smiles and says "It's not a problem MS Gukgak, actually I was wanting to tell you something really quick, see I got into Augefort, so I'm probably gonna be breaking a lotta laws as part of class projects and homework" to which Sklonda gives an exasperated sigh before saying "At least it's school related, thanks for the heads up kid." Harry quickly calls to Riz through the apartment saying "Hey man, heard you got into some trouble without me?" And starts trading pointed but lighthearted barbs to keep up with his friend. Afterwards he puts on his headphones listens to the song "broken things" on his crystal while he walks down to the convenience store to pick up some milk that isn't expired, pickpocketing a guy's coin purse to get the gold to pay for it with barely a faint feeling from the person he just stole from.

At the convenience store he uses mage hand to successfully grab the milk from the back of the fridge without issues as he checks the time to see when his support group meets. After paying for the milk with his stolen gold he returns home, puts it up and listens to rock music at the bus stop to try and ignore the anxiousness building inside him, he meets with this group every week, he knows how things go and he understands why he needs it. He messes around with the bracelet his cousin had gotten him for his birthday the year she had found her faith with Galiciaea, the moon goddess, it was a deep blue braided material clasped with a silver crescent moon, Harry understands the sentiment but he can't truly appreciate it, not really.

Once the bus arrives Harry steps on and texts Tracker and his dad [Off to my support group, should be home by 6:00] to which he gets the expect response of [Good luck] from his dad and a smile emoji from Tracker, he absent mindedly watches the buildings pass by as he arrives at the future sight of his education, the Augefort adventuring academy. He steps through the familiar halls and enters the gym to find a group of people all together, he sits down and the organizer of the group, a kindly but haggard looking man in equally haggard looking clothes with claw marks on his face says "Alright, I'm sure there's some stories to tell about how we've been doing so we'll start with the sharing, Harry would you like to go first?" To which Harry sighs and says sadly"My name is Harry O'shaughnessy, and I have Lycanthropy "

Chapter 2 link

[frankenmouse]

Originally Posted by @ayeforscotland

[Image ID: Screencap of a tweet from Elizabeth Ann West (@EAWwrites). Text reads "I'm really sorry that a bunch of people were today years old when they learned about AI for fiction. But I've been publishing with it since December 2021. Others even longer. It's not going away. Amazon is invested in it and bringing it on their other platforms." Tweet was posted at 4:47 on 19/05/2023 and has 130K views. End Image ID]

[Image ID: Screencap of Elizabeth Ann West's Twitter profile. Text reads "Founder at FutureFictionAcademy.com Author of 25+ best-selling Pride & Prejudice variations. Lover of all things geeky!" Location is Virginia Beach, VA. Link to futurefictionacademy.com. Joined March 2008. End Image ID]

End original post.

Reblog by @uncle-mojave.

[Image ID: Screencap of a selection of text from the book Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell, Published by Secker & Warburg in 1948. Text reads "Jula was twenty-six years old...and she worked, as he had guessed, on the novel writing machines in the Fiction Department. She enjoyed her work, which consisted chiefly in running and servicing a powerful but tricky electric motor...She could describe the whole process of composing a novel, from the general directive issued by the Planning Committee down to the final touching-up by the Rewrite Squad. But she was not interested in the final product. she 'didn't care much for reading,' she said. Books were just a commodity that had to be produced, like jam or bootlaces. End Image ID]

End Reblog

Reblog by @shinraalpha

[Image ID: Meme image of a screenshot of Gordon Ramsay from Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares show. It is subtitled "Delicious Finally, some good fucking Orwell comparisons." The phrase "Orwell comparisons" has been edited in to replace the original text, which was "food." End Image ID]

End Reblog

Reblog by @frankenmouse

[Image ID: Photograph of a page from a book. The page is an excerpt from Roald Dahl's (1961) short story The Great Automatic Grammatizor, published in The Umbrella Man and Other Stories. The text reads: "'Look Mr. Bohlen. With the sort of switchboard I'm rigging up, you'll be able to write any sort of book you want.'

And this was true, for within another couple of months, the genius of Adolph Knipe had not only adapted the machine for novel writing, but had constructed a marvellous new control system which enabled the author to pre-select literally any type of plot and any type of writing he desired. There were so many dials and levers on the thing, it looked like the instrument panel of some enormous aeroplane.

First, by depressing one of a series of master buttons, the writer made his primary decision; historical, satirical, philosophical, political, romantic, erotic, humorous or straight. Then from the second row (the basic buttons), he chose his theme: army life, pioneer days, civil war, world war, racial problem, wild west, country life, childhood memories, seafaring, the sea bottom and many, many more. The third row of buttons gave a choice of literary style: classical, whimsical, racy, Hemingway, Faulkner, Joyce, feminine, etc. The fourth row was for characters, the fifth for wordage--and so on and so on--ten long rows of pre-selector buttons.

But that wasn't all. Control also had to be exercised during the actual writing process (which took about fifteen minutes per..." Text ends. End Image ID]

End Reblog.

Reblog Chain Ends.

“Author of 25+ best-selling Pride & Prejudice variations”

Yeah, no.

[aurorasulphur]

Man, idk if I'm just noticing it more this year or what, but a LOT of the pride month posts circulating right now are chock-full of super snide, guilt-trippy rhetoric.

If the rest of the post is the most valid thing ever but there are a string of reblogs at the end saying "just watch, X won't reblog this" or "this belongs on all blogs", I might go to the effort of backing up the chain for a better version. If it's in the text of the post itself or squished in between valid additions, I'm moving on with my life.

I understand a lot of those comments were made in a different internet era, but they're affecting me NOW. And I don't have time for that bullshit.