#Thankfully my standards are. Not very high.

[youngster-monster]

it is literally the most nonsense working title ever but i thought it was so so funny and well personally im quite weak to the concept of humor so even if maybe future me wants to rip me apart with their bare hands then thats a price im willing to pay!!!! all vibes no story here

i am batting the pumpkin around and screaming at the top of my lungs. i am Enriched

being a hater is so good for me. thats not to say i dont read fics i hate (especially in smaller fandoms i kind of just get to make eyes at the author from a distance while still religiously consuming all i can get.. I Wont Look A Gift Horse In The Mouth, But I Won't Be Happy About The Horse Being In My House In The First Place) but if the fic numbers go up and i dont have to read them ? well. i just wont <3

toxic trait perhaps but its a GOOD trait to me. it is the funniest thing imaginable. guy who absolutely hates the way you characterize them but has literally no choice but to read your kaellidan fics because theres frankly not a whole lot to go round here

i dont know how to tell you this but the minecraft lava pit part is so close to whats there that im actually in shambles. you will never believe the method of rp that was used for the one he comes from and you will never believe what i did to his house

(pro gamer kabedon is still a wip BUT i would be willing to perhaps divulge a little information about it :) as a treat)

(you shall hear from me soon, with no anon, and you WILL hear about him because it is my favorite hobby to make people hear about him. he sucks. i hate him. hes the oc i remember the most about by far. his backstory has changed at least 8 times because we would start new settings with the same ocs but instead of it being an au sort of thing it was like This Is Canon Now, and he is the WORST. you will hear so very much about him)

it's good to have reading standards. But sometimes fic is fic okay!! He wouldn't fucking say that but at least he's got a speaking role!!

Kicking my feet and giggling the few times I get an even remotely rude comment like what were YOU doing at the devil's sacrament, commenter? I don't WANT anyone to hate my writing but. It is a funny thought. Cope and seethe ( < said to no one because the fandom has been very polite)

Minecraft RP oc real. Local oc just the entire multiverse of himself including Roblox version. I love the concept so far ngl

'you shall hear from me soon' sounds like the concerning post scriptum you'd get on a letter from a spy you sent into enemy to territory. When will anons identity come back from the war...

[commonwealthoccurences]

im aro (who just has a weakness for your fics which is peculiar for me bc reader inserts don't normally interest me but yours oof hits just the right spot) and i have an intense discomfort for valentine's day so i have almost every varient of it blacklisted. unfortunately, that means tumblr hides your nick valentine fics which i find both funny and annoying lmaoo however it does somewhat help me bc when i actually catch the 'post hidden bc blacklist' im like !!!!! oh shit!!! time to catch up and i binge read including going back to some of my faves ahahah

anyways this ask was just to say hi keep being amazing i love your work and i hope that life treats you as kindly as you treat your readers!!!!! 💛

Ohhhh this is so lovely!! I'm glad that you enjoy my writing and I'll definitely make a note to put out more platonic stuff in the future for all of my aro followers (: It's too bad about the tag thing I didn't even think of that! Unfortunately, I'm not sure there's any way for me to work around it otherwise I definitely would. But I'm glad you find your way back here when you can and enjoy what I write (which, I will fully admit other than BTE, is few and far between nowadays). This blog and anons like you have been invaluable as writing for fo4 and getting feedback on my writing has helped me build my writing skills for my original works and I hold my original project very close to my heart. In a roundabout way, y'all have helped me out with it, and I try to give as much love back to everyone who reads my fanfic in return (: I hope you have a lovely rest of your day!! (And don't worry about your other ask, no offense was taken and I definitely agree on the way that games like fo4 can function as character or player inserts (: )

[pathologicalreid]

first snow | s.r.

in which you and Spencer experience the first snow in your new apartment together

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff. the kind that rots your teeth. content warnings: snow? ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ word count: 954 a/n: so! not margovember! but i've been saving this one for a special occasion (my first snow came!!!!!) and i hope you enjoy it!!!!

“Why are we doing this now?” You asked, cocking your head at your boyfriend after you finished hauling a stack of books off of the shelves.

He was sitting on the floor, dozens of stacks of books surrounding him, so each step you took was precarious. Spencer’s self-appointed job was to sort through the books, but you weren’t getting rid of any of them. No. He’d decided to reorganize them, influenced by an influx of new language books, according to the Dewey decimal system—a phrase you hadn’t heard since grade school.

You hoisted another stack of books from the shelves, thankfully built into the walls, and set them on the ground. “We can never move out of this apartment,” you told him, flipping through an early edition Proust, likely from his mom’s collection.

That got his attention, “Why not?” His legs were crisscrossed beneath him, his hair freshly washed, and glasses perched on his face. Spencer’s flannel pajama pants were likely warmer than your cotton ones, but you felt as though your hoodie had an advantage over his crewneck.

Gesturing your hands out to the piles of books, you raised your eyebrows, “We’d have to move all of the books again.” The two of you had moved into the apartment near the beginning of the summer, right before Spencer started his training at the Academy, and the heat had ended up being more than you bargained for.

Spencer smiled fondly at you, “I like this apartment,” he reminded you, turning his attention back to his philosophy books, “It suits us.”

Looking around, you had also fallen in love with the apartment rather quickly, and you didn’t have much room to complain, knowing that Spencer had sacrificed having a short commute so you could be close to work. The two of you moved in together after you finished school in Pasadena, and he wrapped up classes at MIT, closing the distance and starting the rest of your lives together.

The two of you repainted together, abandoning the miserable taupe that had been on the walls in favor of a dark green; you worked together to make it home, even if you were here more often than him.

Stepping over a teetering pile of novels, you held your arms out for balance as you tried to get to the kitchen, yelping when your foot caught on a book, sending you falling to the ground. You groaned as the corner of a book dug into your side; the blow softened by the cotton of your sweatshirt as you rolled off of the collapsed stack.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked as you rolled over to a safe area. His hand settled on your side, stopping you from rolling onto your back.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you nodded, “Yeah.” You frowned at the books that were left in your wake, “Oh, Spence. Your books,” you sighed, sticking out your bottom lip sadly.

He shook his head, “They’re just books, lovely.” Despite his reassurance, you caught his brown eyes flickering over the fallen novels. At a glance, it didn’t seem like any damage was incurred, but Spencer held his books to a very high standard. You knew he’d be checking them over as soon as you turned your head.

Sitting all the way up, you giggled softly at the way his concern split between you and the books; you thought about pressing your lips to his, but something moving outside the window caught your eye instead.

You squinted out the window, trying to ascertain what was going on, when your mouth gaped in surprise, “Spencer!” You scrambled to your feet, trying to drag your boyfriend to his, “Come on!”

His brows pinched in confusion. He looked around the living room, trying to find what had gotten you so excited, but you were already shoving your fuzzy sock-covered feet into your sneakers. Spencer had no choice but to follow.

Not even minding that you’d folded over the heels of your shoes, you were shuffling down the stairs and making your way to the street. Spencer lagged behind you, and you had already thrown your arms out in excitement by the time he made it outside. “It’s snowing,” You said giddily, bouncing on the balls of your feet and spinning on the pavement.

Spencer grabbed one of your hands, stopping you from moving while he draped your jacket over your shoulders, having been too driven to get to the snowflakes to think about staying warm. His eyes were filled with love, leaving no room for judgment.

Sticking your tongue in an attempt to catch a snowflake, you didn’t even care that you were acting like a child. You’d never lived anywhere that got real snow like this before, “Oh, I love snow.”

“Your scarf is in tatters,” Spencer observed, holding the threadbare fabric at arm’s length.

You shrugged, breathing in and letting the cold air nip at your nose, “I haven’t had any use for it. It’s been in storage for ages,” you reminded him, closing your eyes and basking in the snow.

Instead of placing the hole-ridden scarf around your neck, Spencer loops his purple one over your shoulders. “I’ll have to knit you a new one. They’re predicting above-average snowfall this winter.”

Beaming at Spencer, you held out your hand for him to take, and he pulled you closer to him so your back was flush with his chest, the two of you watching the flurries as the lamplight refracted off the tiny ice crystals. “Happy first snow, Spencer Reid,” you told him, leaning your head back on his shoulder so the two of you could share a kiss.

He hummed affectionately, “Happy first snow, my love.”

[ozzgin]

Yandere School Q&A

I've gotten some related asks and thought I'd put them in a cleaner format, so I don't spawn another round of screenshots from my inbox.

Ohhh how would yan school react if y/n got hurt somehow?? Also quick question is her parents also platonic yans for them? Thanks!! - Anonymous

It only makes sense that the staff of the school is yandere material, too. The students may rush to help and insist they've got it under control, but the school nurse will be quick to act. It's the chance of a lifetime, having you to himself, and for longer than the usual standard checkup. The curtains are pulled, and the "do not disturb" sign is flipped. Your injuries are not to be taken lightly. You'll need to spend all day under his supervision.

The parents and all relatives are indeed platonic yanderes! I thought it'd be a nice touch since I've never approached the trope before.

YAYAYAYYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAA MORE YANDERE SCHOOLLLLLL You’re amazing!!!!! (I had to ask to make sure I used the right your/you’re) also is the darling yandere gonna keep sabotaging y/n? - @femboybasil

The tying up incident was actually an exception to what I originally planned, haha. For most of the competitions, darling yandere will guide (Y/N) and aid them for a flawless win. That's the comedy of it: he's indirectly doing the yandere part while trying to be discreet enough as to not alert the other yanderes. Additionally, (Y/N) helps him with the darling tasks. Though that part is very much expected by everyone from school. The Daring Academy teachers are probably observing the activities, baffled. "Who the hell is that student? What skill...what obliviousness. They should've applied to us."

If you’re comfortable with this concept, (since it’s a school-based series I don’t know if the reader and yanderes are minors are not, if they are then you don’t have to write this.) but obviously the students of the Yandere Academy are going to need to learn how to tie up their darlings once they’ve been captured. Would you mind writing a little blurb about it since Reader is the unofficially assigned darling stand-in for their classes? - Anonymous

This is the ask I used for the tying up idea in Part 3! To answer your worries, all of my stories involve 18+ characters! Just wanted to clear it up for anyone in doubt. The school/academy setup is more of a college/university kind of institution. I do love a good high school setup, but not for self insert romance.

I’d imagine that there’s a drama class at the yandere school to help the students learn how to act and seem innocent. What if they put on a musical or something like Phantom of the Opera (because of course it would be that) and reader got the role of Christine or the equivalent. Imagine all the yanderes fighting for the role of their love interests to get the excuse to kiss them, and other yanderes trying to sabotage them as tactfully as possible to keep the show going, but replace the leads to be alongside reader. Think that may be something cool to add/write about? No pressure of course! - Anonymous

You know the whole thing is going to turn into a ninja survival shitshow. They had hoped to never cast (Y/N) in any role, for everyone's safety. And for the most part, (Y/N) thankfully never showed any interest in the drama club.

The supervising teacher held (Y/N)'s application form with trembling hands. It seems their little club had finally run out of luck.

Worst part: the school can't even rely on the teachers. They're just as desperate to see their cute little (Y/N) perform on stage. "Maybe this job is too overwhelming for one person, sensei..." they'll smugly tell the original supervisor. "We could divide some tasks. Someone else could train (Y/N), for example..."

ok here me out, what if there is like a field trip or sports festival kind of thing where the Yandere and Darling academy meet up. Basically where a Yandere and a darling are made to pair up to go through the numerous activities (maybe ones that test their yandere/darling skills) so reader decides to pair up with clumsy Yandere ( who is in Darling academy) much to the displeasure of Yandere classmate. Maybe like a battle of the the Yanderes? - Anonymous

This was a little trippy to read, because it came right after part 3, haha. Which I feel is basically the same plot. Though it would be interesting to see how it'd play out if the stranger was Reader's best friend instead.

Reader excitedly approaches Clumsy!Yandere and asks him to work together, to the dismay of all other students. They're enraged. You can see it plainly: their hands tremble, their jaws are clenched, their eyes have a psychotic glint. Poor Clumsy!Yandere is in constant shivers, unaware of the death stares. You're cheerfully guiding him around, his hand in yours, happy to see your friend again.

[sanicsmut]

Gojo Satoru x Confident!Plus Size!Reader

Warnings : she/her reader, fatphobia, mention of food but it’s not related to reader’s weight, use of the word ‘fat’ but positively. I don’t know if it could be considered slight angst if reader isn’t affected by the fatphobia.

Words: 733

Robin’s comment: We need more fics with a fat reader who doesn't feel bad about being fat and doesn't doubt being hot even when confronted with fatphobia. It’s pretty short. I don’t have the attention span to write a long and coherent thing, so I hope it’ll be enough. Keep in mind that I don’t actually write that much, and that english isn’t my first language and I don't have a beta reader. If the use of the word 'fat', even in a positive way, is triggering for you i'd advise you to not read this.

Like every day, you decided to visit your boyfriend during his break. He wasn’t on a mission, thankfully, which meant you could steal more time with him. You walked through the streets of Tokyo, your black skirt fluttering in the wind as you walked. You thanked your past self for thinking about wearing shorts, you didn’t want all of Tokyo to see your backside, this was a privilege for your boyfriend after all. Your handbag was filled with all kinds of sweets for him — how else would you thank him for being the best partner you’ve ever had ?

You were passing a café near Jujutsu High when you heard people laughing. You didn’t pay attention to it, initially, but when you heard the words ‘whale’ and other very funny — sarcasm — comparisons. It was true, you were fat. Yes, fat, not chubby or plus sized. No, fat, and not in the ‘norm fitting’ way that would make you an acceptable type of fat in the eyes of skinny people and the beauty norms, no you were… just you. Fat. You always said it wasn’t a bad word, people said skinny with no negative connotation after all, so why not fat ? And you weren’t ashamed of it, you loved your body, you loved how your clothes looked on you, you loved your fat and your rolls and even your stretch marks and everything that came with being bigger than average. Really. But that pride didn’t stop stupid and ignorant people from commenting on your physical appearance as if it was the funniest shit ever.

You turned your gaze to a table in front of the café and, surely, a group of people was sitting there. Boys and girls alike were laughing, some looking not very subtly in your direction. You walked towards them and they all fell silent.

“A whale, huh?” You said. You almost wanted to laugh at their dumbfounded expressions.

“We… uh… We weren’t talking about you.” One of the boy managed to say awkwardly. He kept looking everywhere but you.

“Oh but you were. What did you say?” You asked, looking at the girl sitting right next to him. “What was it? There’s gonna be an earthquake if I keep walking?”

She shrunk in her seat. You could be very intimidating when you wanted to.

“That’s funny.” You commented, not looking amused in the slightest. “Now let me tell you. All of you. You’re lucky I’m not ashamed of being fat. As a matter of fact, I’d say I’m pretty hot. So your comments don’t do shit to me. However, there are people out there who aren’t as confident as I am. Do you have any idea of the impact these kinds of comments can have on someone? Do you think people can choose to be fat ot not? Do you think we don’t know we’re fat? Do you think saying this will change our life and create a miracle maybe? It’s our life, our bodies, right? If you’re disgusted by fat people, you’re the problem. Go see a fucking therapist and work on your inner insecurities, because this is pathetic.”

Silence.

“It’s easy to talk when you think we can’t hear you, but you fall silent when I’m confronting you?”

You scoffed.

“That’s what I thought. Anyway. Next time you see someone who doesn’t fit your beauty standards, maybe keep if for yourself because nobody cares. And try not to insult them, I doubt you’d appreciate if I commented on your very obvious physical flaws.”

They all looked pretty uncomfortable, you simply threw them another condescending glance before walking away. What a group of stupid idiots.

“Now that was pretty hot.”

You could recognize that voice anywhere.

“Satoru!” You exclaimed, beaming.

You turned around and, surely, he was here in all his glory.

“You were a bit late so I went outside to wait for you.” He grinned, taking you in his arms. “I’m glad to see my beautiful girlfriend is still as fiery as ever.”

You practically melted in his embrace, pressing a kiss on his lips.

“I couldn’t let them think they could get away with this.”

“And you did a good job, sweetheart, I’m proud of you. I'd say no one can mess with my girlfriend, but at this point you don't even need me to defend you.”

You smiled, leaning away just enough to take the sweets out of your bag.

“Here, for being the best boyfriend ever.”

“Are you trying to make me fall in love even more?” He said lightheartedly. “Thanks, wanna share them?”

“Gladly.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

A year in illustration, 2023 edition (part one)

(This is part one; part two is here.)

I am objectively very bad at visual art. I am bad at vision, period – I'm astigmatic, shortsighted, color blind, and often miss visual details others see. I can't even draw a stick-figure. To top things off, I have cataracts in both eyes and my book publishing/touring schedule is so intense that I keep having to reschedule the surgeries. But despite my vast visual deficits, I thoroughly enjoy making collages for this blog.

For many years now – decades – I've been illustrating my blog posts by mixing public domain and Creative Commons art with work that I can make a good fair use case for. As bad as art as I may be, all this practice has paid off. Call it unseemly, but I think I'm turning out some terrific illustrations – not all the time, but often enough.

Last year, I rounded up my best art of the year:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/25/a-year-in-illustration/

And I liked reflecting on the year's art so much, I decided I'd do it again. Be sure to scroll to the bottom for some downloadables – freely usable images that I painstakingly cut up with the lasso tool in The Gimp.

The original AD&D hardcover cover art is seared into my psyche. For several years, there were few images I looked at so closely as these. When Hasbro pulled some world-beatingly sleazy stuff with the Open Gaming License, I knew just how to mod Dave Trampier's 'Eve Of Moloch' from the cover of the Players' Handbook. Thankfully, bigger nerds than me have identified all the fonts in the image, making the remix a doddle.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/12/beg-forgiveness-ask-permission/#whats-a-copyright-exception

Even though I don't keep logs or collect any analytics, I can say with confidence that "Tiktok's Enshittification" was the most popular thing I published on Pluralistic this year. I mixed some public domain Brother's Grimm art, mixed with a classic caricature of Boss Tweed, and some very cheesy royalty-free/open access influencer graphics. One gingerbread cottage social media trap, coming up:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

To illustrate the idea of overcoming walking-the-plank fear (as a metaphor for writing when it feels like you suck) I mixed public domain stock of a plank, a high building and legs, along with a procedurally generated Matrix "code waterfall" and a vertiginous spiral ganked from a Heinz Bunse photo of a German office lobby.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/22/walking-the-plank/

Finding a tasteful way to illustrate a story about Johnson & Johnson losing a court case after it spent a generation tricking women into dusting their vulvas with asbestos-tainted talcum was a challenge. The tulip (featured in many public domain images) was a natural starting point. I mixed it with Jesse Wagstaff's image of a Burning Man dust-storm and Mike Mozart's shelf-shot of a J&J talcum bottle.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/01/j-and-j-jk/#risible-gambit

"Google's Chatbot Panic" is about Google's long history of being stampeded into doing stupid things because its competitors are doing them. Once it was Yahoo, now it's Bing. Tenniel's Tweedle Dee and Dum were a good starting point. I mixed in one of several Humpty Dumpty editorial cartoon images from 19th century political coverage that I painstakingly cut out with the lasso tool on a long plane-ride. This is one of my favorite Humpties, I just love the little 19th C businessmen trying to keep him from falling! I finished it off with HAL 9000's glowing red eye, my standard 'this is about AI' image, which I got from Cryteria's CC-licensed SVG.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/16/tweedledumber/#easily-spooked

Though I started writing about Luddites in my January, 2022 Locus column, 2023 was the Year of the Luddite, thanks to Brian Merchant's outstanding Blood In the Machine:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/26/enochs-hammer/#thats-fronkonsteen

When it came time to illustrate "Gig Work Is the Opposite of Steampunk," I found a public domain weaver's loft, and put one of Cryteria's HAL9000 eyes in the window. Magpie Killjoy's Steampunk Magazine poster, 'Love the Machine, Hate the Factory,' completed the look.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/12/gig-work-is-the-opposite-of-steampunk/

For the "small, non-profit school" that got used as an excuse to bail out Silicon Valley Bank, I brought back Humpty Dumpty, mixing him with a Hogwartsian castle, a brick wall texture, and an ornate, gilded frame. I love how this one came out. This Humpty was made for the SVB bailout.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/23/small-nonprofit-school/#north-country-school

The RESTRICT Act would have federally banned Tiktok – a proposal that was both technically unworkable and unconstitutional. I found an early 20th century editorial cartoon depicting Uncle Sam behind a fortress wall that was keeping a downtrodden refugee family out of America. I got rid of most of the family, giving the dad a Tiktok logo head, and I put Cryteria's HAL9000 eyes over each cannonmouth. Three Boss Tweed moneybag-head caricatures, adorned with Big Tech logos, rounded it out.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/30/tik-tok-tow/#good-politics-for-electoral-victories

When Flickr took decisive action to purge the copyleft trolls who'd been abusing its platform, I knew I wanted to illustrate this with Lucifer being cast out of heaven, and the very best one of those comes from John Milton, who is conveniently well in the public domain. The Flickr logo suggested a bicolored streaming-light-of-heaven motif that just made it.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/01/pixsynnussija/#pilkunnussija

Old mainframe ads are a great source of stock for a "Computer Says No" image. And Congress being a public building, there are lots of federal (and hence public domain) images of its facade.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/04/cbo-says-no/#wealth-tax

When I wrote about the Clarence Thomas/Harlan Crow bribery scandal, it was easy to find Mr. Kjetil Ree's great image of the Supreme Court building. Thomas being a federal judge, it was easy to find a government photo of his head, but it's impossible to find an image of him in robes at a decent resolution. Luckily, there are tons of other federal judges who've been photographed in their robes! Boss Tweed with the dollar-sign head was a great stand-in for Harlan Crow (no one knows what he looks like anyway). Gilding Thomas's robes was a simple matter of superimposing a gold texture and twiddling with the layers.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/06/clarence-thomas/#harlan-crow

"Gig apps trap reverse centaurs in wage-stealing Skinner boxes" is one of my best titles. This is the post where I introduce the idea of "twiddling" as part of the theory of enshittification, and explain how it relates to "reverse centaurs" – people who assist machines, rather than the other way around. Finding a CC licensed modular synth was much harder than I thought, but I found Stephen Drake's image and stitched it into a mandala. Cutting out the horse's head for the reverse centaur was a lot of work (manes are a huuuuge pain in the ass), but I love how his head sits on the public domain high-viz-wearing warehouse worker's body I cut up (thanks, OSHA!). Seeing as this is an horrors-of-automation story, Cryteria's HAL9000 eyes make an appearance.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

Rockefeller's greatest contribution to our culture was inspiring many excellent unflattering caricatures. The IWW's many-fists-turning-into-one-fist image made it easy to have the collective might of workers toppling the original robber-baron.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/14/aiming-at-dollars/#not-men

I link to this post explaining how to make good Mastodon threads at least once a week, so it's a good thing the graphic turned out so well. Close-cropping the threads from a public domain yarn tangle worked out great. Eugen Rochko's Mastodon logo was and is the only Affero-licensed image ever to appear on Pluralistic.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/16/how-to-make-the-least-worst-mastodon-threads/

I spent hours on the sofa one night painstakingly cutting up and reassembling the cover art from a science fiction pulp. I have a folder full of color-corrected, high-rez scans from an 18th century anatomy textbook, and the cross-section head-and-brain is the best of the lot.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/04/analytical-democratic-theory/#epistocratic-delusions

Those old French anatomical drawings are an endless source of delight to me. Take one cross-sectioned noggin, mix in an old PC mainboard, and a vector art illo of a virtuous cycle with some of Cryteria's HAL9000 eyes and you've got a great illustration of Google's brain-worms.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/14/googles-ai-hype-circle/

Ireland's privacy regulator is but a plaything in Big Tech's hand, but it's goddamned hard to find an open-access Garda car. I manually dressed some public domain car art in Garda livery, painstakingly tracing it over the panels. The (public domain) baby's knit cap really hides the seams from replacing the baby's head with HAL9000's eye.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

Naked-guy-in-a-barrel bankruptcy images feel like something you can find in an old Collier's or Punch, but I came up snake-eyes and ended up frankensteining a naked body into a barrel for the George Washington crest on the Washington State flag. It came out well, but harvesting the body parts from old muscle-beach photos left George with some really big guns. I tried five different pairs of suspenders here before just drawing in black polyhedrons with little grey dots for rivets.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/03/when-the-tide-goes-out/#passive-income

Illustrating Amazon's dominance over the EU coulda been easy – just stick Amazon 'A's in place of the yellow stars that form a ring on the EU flag. So I decided to riff on Plutarch's Alexander, out of lands to conquer. Rama's statue legs were nice and high-rez. I had my choice of public domain ruin images, though it was harder thank expected to find a good Amazon box as a plinth for those broken-off legs.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/14/flywheel-shyster-and-flywheel/#unfulfilled-by-amazon

God help me, I could not stop playing with this image of a demon-haunted IoT car. All those reflections! The knife sticking out of the steering wheel, the multiple Munsch 'Scream'ers, etc etc. The more I patchked with it, the better it got, though. This one's a banger.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

To depict a "data-driven dictatorship," I ganked elements of heavily beribboned Russian military dress uniforms, replacing the head with HAL9000's eye. I turned the foreground into the crowds from the Nuremberg rallies and filled the sky with Matrix code waterfall.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/26/dictators-dilemma/#garbage-in-garbage-out-garbage-back-in

The best thing about analogizing DRM to demonic possession is the wealth of medieval artwork to choose from . This one comes from the 11th century 'Compendium rarissimum totius Artis Magicae sistematisatae per celeberrimos Artis hujus Magistros.' I mixed in the shiny red Tesla (working those reflections!), and a Tesla charger to make my point.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/edison-not-tesla/#demon-haunted-world

Yet more dividends from those old French anatomical plates: a flayed skull, a detached jaw, a quack electronic gadget, a Wachowski code waterfall and some HAL 9000 eyes and you've got a truly unsettling image of machine-compelled speech.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/02/self-incrimination/#wei-bai-bai

I had no idea this would work out so well, but daaaamn, crossfading between a Wachowski code waterfall and a motherboard behind a roiling thundercloud is dank af.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/03/there-is-no-cloud/#only-other-peoples-computers

Of all the turkeys-voting-for-Christmas self-owns conservative culture warriors fall for, few can rival the "banning junk fees is woke" hustle. Slap a US-flag Punisher logo on and old-time card imprinter, add a GOP logo to a red credit-card blank, and then throw in a rustic barn countertop and you've got a junk-fee extracter fit for the Cracker Barrel.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

Putting the Verizon logo on the Hinderberg was an obvious gambit (even if I did have to mess with the flames a lot), but the cutout of Paul Marcarelli as the 'can you hear me now?' guy, desaturated and contrast-matched, made it sing.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/10/smartest-guys-in-the-room/#can-you-hear-me-now

Note to self: Tux the Penguin is really easy to source in free/open formats! He looks great with HAL9000 eyes.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/18/openwashing/#you-keep-using-that-word-i-do-not-think-it-means-what-you-think-it-means

Rockwell's self-portrait image is a classic; that made it a natural for a HAL9000-style remix about AI art. I put a bunch of time into chopping and remixing Rockwell's signature to give it that AI look, and added as many fingers as would fit on each hand.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/20/everything-made-by-an-ai-is-in-the-public-domain/

(Images: Heinz Bunse, West Midlands Police, Christopher Sessums, CC BY-SA 2.0; Mike Mozart, Jesse Wagstaff, Stephen Drake, Steve Jurvetson, syvwlch, Doc Searls, https://www.flickr.com/photos/mosaic36/14231376315, Chatham House, CC BY 2.0; Cryteria, CC BY 3.0; Mr. Kjetil Ree, Trevor Parscal, Rama, “Soldiers of Russia” Cultural Center, Russian Airborne Troops Press Service, CC BY-SA 3.0; Raimond Spekking, CC BY 4.0; Drahtlos, CC BY-SA 4.0; Eugen Rochko, Affero; modified)

[girl-dot-tzt]

Alright results are in, I'm not allowed to finish for 36 days 🙃

Im going to update this as a lil diary to keep me honest💃

Day 1: I'm feeling pretty good, I notice I get really horny when I take my prog the ✨️fun way✨️ so I'm going to use that method to increase the challenge this month. I'm thinking of meeting a friend tomorrow so I'm excited!

Day 2: more of the same, pretty standard, had a great time with said friend. Getting a teeny but pent up but nothing crazy yet.

Day 3: getting more pent up but it's still manageable, made the mistake of reading a ton of horny posts and getting myself really horny. Thankfully I calmed down and now I'm good to go

Day 4: went to work, did some bike wrenching, now im boutta sleep. pretty uneventful but I'm meeting a good friend of mine tomorrow so I plan on making up for the lack of horny twofold. I need to get some Oregonian mutuals bc I'd like to bite someone :3

Day 5: got my tits fondled for like 3 hours while I watched anime and got insanely high, I need like 4 people to hold me down and grope/tease/fuck me... preferably all at once. I've got 31 more daysssssss, does it count if it's hands free? 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

Day 6: got no sleep, very horny, idk what direction Is up, and I need an answer to the question from yesterday 😫

Day 7: got sleep but not railed because if I get railed too well I'll could possibly finish and idk if that's OK yet :3. I'm going to mountain bike today! I'm super excited bc I need something to take the edge off, if I'm really unlucky I'll get too horny from the idea of getting fucked in the woods and make an update here.

Day 8: we're evening out a little, this may not be impossible, tbf I haven't had time to do much lately so when I finally get the time to ride my toys that might change. I'm planning on doing that tomorrow :3

Day 8 update: I accidentally took two progesterone pills because I boof mine, but I accidentally muscle memory-ed taking my prog orally. Got so horny during work that I nearly cried.

Day 9: I broke some spokes while mountain biking and now I'm sad, but horny and frustrated too. I can only think about being bred, but also being sad that my bike broke, damn fucking stupid sticks getting inbetween my fucking spokes. I need railed bad, etcetera etcetera

Day 10:

Girl abs, that is all

Day 11: I'm going to fuck myself on the biggest toy I own until I'm crying or edging with my Pspot🧍‍♀️ I will return

Day 12: I'm pretty sure I ended up getting edged. Pretty sure because I've never actually finished hands free before and my vibrator died right before I was about to finish. One of you witchy mother fuckers knew I was about to cheat or something, no other explanations, couldn't possibly be that I forgot to charge toys like a dumbass. Laugh it up, I got edged hard by my ADHD.

Days 13: I had a threesome and it was awesome! I explained my agreement to them and got teased a bunch as me and my friend dommed the fuck out of a gorgeous girl. We groped and kissed and sucked all over her body as she got more and more worked up, until eventually I was fucking her with my big purple vibrator and she came hands free for the first time! We made sure to shower her with all kinds of praise and congratulations 💃💃

Days 14-16: started a new job, I'm getting so horny these days that rather than feeling butterflies it's like an almost painful NEED. Like I just desperately need to get tied up and ground into dust, getting edged with my vibrator did a number on me because I'm a mess rn😆

Days 17-20: if I may be honest i embarked on this endeavor to try to finish hands free, I've never done it before but I desperately want to. I think I'll be able to do it by the end of these 36 days or sooner. Idk it's just a hunch🧍‍♀️

Day 21-29: 10 hr shifts in a lab will drive you nuts when there's nothing to think about but getting railed and ice cream percentages. On the plus side I am not only paid but required to eat ice cream every hour at my job. On the downside, I got so horny I cried last night🧍‍♀️😵‍💫😵‍💫

[sylix-royalty]

If you’re still taking prompt requests, can I ask for 23 with hotchreid? <3 🥰

Of course! I’m so happy to fill request while I write my next part for my alphabet series, gives me a little motivation! Request as much as you’d like!

Ship: Hotch/Reid, Heid

Prompt: "I'm... lightheaded..."

Type: Fluff

Warnings: Nothing really, just a headache as expected

I made Hotch the Vulnerable one, I couldn’t help it.

Enjoy under the cut!

Aaron sighed as he sat his bags down. Thankfully they’d finished the case just in time, as tended to happen with them it seemed. Due to inclement weather, they weren’t able to fly out until morning, which the team seemed fine with taking an extra night to sleep and relax. David and Derek had a room, JJ and Emily, leaving Spencer with Aaron. The men would rotate rooms occasionally, but for the most part this is how it ended up, mainly because Aaron stayed up late and Spencer was the least to complain about it (meaning he never did).

Spencer noted the exhaustion as Aaron seemed to collapse into a seated position on his bed. He was worried, but he tried not thinking about it too harshly. This case hadn’t been easy for any of them, least of all Hotch since he helf such a high standard for himself that the rest of the team never truly understood. He took such a pride in himself, but he never really reflected it to the rest of them unless he had to, to get the team kicked more into action than they already would be.

Still, it worried Spencer just how out of it his boss seemed. He couldn’t hold his tongue very long as Aaron held his temples with one hand, covering his eyes. Spencer shut off the overhead lights and decided to stick with the lamps in order to try and help.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, not wanting to pry, but at the same time, he wanted answers.

“I’m fine,” Aaron said, still keeping up that demeanor that everything was fine when it most certainly wasn’t.

“Hotch?” Spencer tried pressing gently. He didn’t want to go too far in fear of making Aaron angry at him, but he wasn’t going to give up that easily.

Aaron knew that.

“Yeah…” Aaron sighed, “I’m just… I’ve got a headache, is all,” He mumbled, blinking himself back and not wincing at the dim light, as he glanced at Spencer. His eyes seemed unfocused, and Spencer didn’t like it.

“Are you sure that’s everything?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah, just a headace. I’m gonna shower, the heat and steam will probably help,” Aaron mumbled, standing and grabbing one of the hotel towel’s to bring into the bathroom with him, along with his go bag.

Spencer didn’t say anything else as he watched Aaron disappear into the bathroom. Spencer didn’t tend to calculate how long someone to shower, it really depended on outside factors like cases and how someone was feeling that he didn’t spend his time doing it. However, he knew when it was too long for Aaron. Especially when the shower turned off and Aaron hadn’t emerged after a typical couple of minutes to get dressed.

It took him 9 minutes and 45 seconds to come back out to the main room, and Spencer was fully watching him now. Aaron took hold of the wall to keep steady.

“Hotch?” Spencer asked as he slowly stood.

“I’m… light-lightheaded,” Aaron whispered, and as he tried to take a step, his knees buckled beneath him. Spencer was able to catch him and keep him steady.

“Woah, I gotcha, I gotcha,” Spencer whispered, carefully carrying him to the bed and sitting him down. He pressed the back of his hand against Aaron’s forehead. It wasn’t at all accurate, since the man had just emerged from a hot shower and a steam filled room, but still Spencer didn’t like just how warm Aaron felt.

“You might be running a fever,” Spencer whispered. “I won’t be able to completely tell until you’re body has cooled from the shower.”

“I don’t… feel sick,” Aaron whispered.

“You’re lightheaded enough to lose your footing, that seems sick to me. How much have you slept?”

“This case or in general?” Aaron asked.

“Let’s go with in general,” Spencer said as he stood to grab a washcloth and grabbed the ice bucket.

“I only sleep for about 4 hours a night,” Aaron admitted.

“Not good,” Spencer mumbled. “I’m gonna go grab you some ice. Lay down if you need to.”

Aaron nodded, and Spencer left to do that. When he returned, Aaron was still sitting up, but his hand was back over his eyes, middle finger holding one side of his temple and his thumb holding the other. Spencer filled the washcloth with a bit of ice, not enough to make a huge mess when it melted, but enough to provide a little relief for a headache.

“Do you want some of my over the counter medication?” He asked, carefully placing the washcloth over his neck.

“No, I’m fine,” Aaron whispered shakily.

“We both know you’re not,” Spencer whispered.

“You don’t have to take care of me,” Aaron whispered, dropping his hand to look at Spencer. There was a weakness in his eyes that Spencer had never seen before. Not even after the murder of Haley, this was a different kind of weakness.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to,” Spencer whispered. “You’ve taken care of me, right? You don’t always have to be by yourself, Aaron.”

Aaron blinked, clearly exhausted enough not to argue. Spencer watched his reaction, trying to keep his face steady and warm.

“I’ve got you,” Spencer promised. “Lay down, I’ll take care of you.”

[fatuismooches]

ITS ALMOST VALENTINES DAAY yippe!!!!

I know Dottore + the segments dont really care for holidays but I like to think Valentines day is one of those exceptions because they KNOW they are going to get spoiled. They all glance at reader (who is oblivious) discreetly as the day approaches.

And when the day arrives they're barely able to focus on their tasks because they can already smell the chocolates from the kitchen. Reader had to lock the door to the kitchen for OBVIOUS reasons.

sidenote: I just had the adorable idea that foxttore will claw/paw at the door like a dog😭 and the pufflings will try to squeeze under the door. Reader probably has to put a rag under the door to stop them.

When reader finally finishes baking and presents it to all the Dottys they are so joyous.... the older ones might be more quiet about their happiness but the younger ones are DEVOURING those sweets.

I like to think Reader also baked some trears for Foxttore and the pufflings... :D

(Sidenote:Reader baked a special batch for Zandy because he's spoiled)

ALSO im glad u like my ramblings 😭 I get very joyous when I see a new dottore post...

- 🐓

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH... Ah you've sealed your fate the moment you decided to spoil them on the first Valentine's Day spent together! You simply can't set the standards so high and then not go through with it, nope, unless you want a bunch of mopey and grumpy segments on this day of love. (You weren't planning on such a thing anyway thankfully. But somehow you don't notice how touchy they are before the day. Specifically the younger ones. The older ones are beyond that. But I guess they think they could possibly butter you up to give them a few more chocolates... Unfortunately, you're still oblivious and just return their kisses tenfold.)

Not only do you lock the door, but you have to threaten to never make them chocolates again if they dare break this rule... well obviously you'd never actually do that but apparently they're not willing to risk that possibility... very, very strange segments. If only they could behave themselves, they could hug you from behind as you baked... Though of course, Zandy is allowed in because he's a good little boy! Sometimes he helps you or he's just there to keep you company! (You have to keep Zandy's special batch in your room and have him sneak over so you two can eat it together in secret... otherwise, the segments would find out and that would not be fun...)

YESSS FOXTTORE AND THE PUFFBALLS TRYING TO BREAK IN... no poor Foxttore would just give up and sit outside the door all huffy and sad... its favorite human has betrayed it!! but the pufflings, they would have infiltrated the kitchen already, they were there hidden inside the cabinets and under the stove the night before. The ones that weren't there yet just squeezed themself through some other crevice... eventually, you just get them all in and Foxttore is very very happy :3 Its fur coat unfortunately may get a bit messy with the chocolate... you will have to give it a bath later. (I can just imagine, you will turn your back for a few seconds, and then you turn back around to see Foxttore guilty with his paw in the bowl of chocolate...)

Reader would definitely customize the boxes of chocolates for the segments... they would make sure to note down the kind of chocolate they prefer, what kind of fillings they like, etc... and the older segments who have a taste for more bitter chocolates too... :D Not to mention the little notecard with to: and from: [name]...

And let's not forget about our dearest Dottie... he would want to taste more chocolates even after they're done, and to do so, he would simply kiss you repeatedly, savoring the lingering taste of the delicious sweetness on your lips. Yes, he's never cared for Valentine's Day, but when it's like this, he supposes it's not all that bad.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi, Raven! I just wanted to ask if it's very pressuring to be seen as like this type of fandom authority/big figure in the twst fandom? Which you're not, and I'm aware of it but I can't help but think and notice that a lot of people generally view you and your blog in that manner. I hope that hasn't soured your enjoyment in the fandom btw if it is the case, it can be daunting to be kind of upheld to a standard and responsibility you didn't ask for. But I hope you're still having fun and enjoying yourself because that's what fandom really is about at its core. Hope you have a good day!! 💖

Well 💦 it’s stressful, yes. but only when I’m made cognizant of that. Typically I don’t think of myself as being in that position, but I’m reminded of it when I receive the occasional ask that opens or closes their question/comment with really intense praise.

Thankfully, I have the luxury of being selective about which asks I reply to, but sometimes it can be as simple as skimming an ask that brings about a churning dread or cognitive dissonance in my stomach. I take a lot of time to formulate what I hope are thoughtful responses in part because I feel like I have some degree of responsibility for those who seem to place so much stock in what I say… It makes me anxious about all the potential ways it could go wrong. Unclear wording/tone misconstruing the intended message, people weaponizing my posts to justify their own takes, arguments breaking out, etc. Then that leads into worries about not deserving this position (ayy, love imposter syndrome/j) and it becomes a cycle that’s hard to break.

If people want to view me as some higher authority or big figure, then there’s only so much I can do to stop them. I can tell others all I want that I don’t like being put on such a high pedestal all I like, but it would do very little to change their mindsets. The best I can hope for is reminding them of where my boundaries lie when people start to act too attached to me. Like, you definitely should not be soliciting free favors, seeking validation, asking for life advice, and/or traumadumping to me, a complete internet stranger. (These have all happened before.) Remember, me being friendly ≠ being friends with me.

I’ve never been someone who reacts well to parasocialism or celebrity culture (something which I highlight in this post). I like to compartmentalize, separate reality from fandom, keep to myself and my own lane, be a private person… so it’s unnerving for me to suddenly be the recipient of parasocial behaviors. Again, I must stress that parasocialism is, in of itself, NOT a bad thing. It can, however, quickly snowball into emotional dependency or a falsified sense of intimacy. That’s why I keep stressing—especially recently—that I have to draw the line and make my boundaries clear.

Now, that isn’t to say that all of my parasocial experiences have been negative ones. Far from it! I’ve had the honor of meeting and getting to know many cool individuals through my activity in this fandom. (If you’re reading this, you know who you are 🫵) I’ve been able to participate in numerous group projects and activities alongside those people. I’ve gotten fan art and interesting asks from so many Twsties that are just as excited about my OC or new story content as I am. I’ve received kind words when I really needed them or when I least expected it. I will forever be grateful for that ^^ and I’d still say that the majority of my time in the TWST fandom has been chill and fun.

In my experience, I’ve seen both the highs and lows of fandom as the result of parasocialism. I of course evaluate them on a case-by-case basis, but what I want to point out is that I do not want overfamiliarity or people overstepping, especially if I have never spoken with you one-on-one off-Anon before 💦 I think that’s reasonable for me to request.

[hopes-peak-postal-company]

For Mod Hajime, i hope this doesnt sound weird but could you do a platonic fatherly yandere imagine post with Elias Bouchard? I like to imagine he fixates on a new Institute hire who doesnt know the fears are real and just decides "Its Child time. There is nothing I wont do to make my new child happy." But he also has to work around Jon and them getting in his way because they just dont GET that he's a Father now.

A FATHER'S LOVE!

"surely you'd choose your father over your friends, wouldn't you?"

summary. getting a job at a spooky academic institute offers toms of spooky outcomes. you just didn't expect to get a father figure and a overlyprotective friend group.

contents. platonic yandere! elias; elias is a wet cat grandpa; the archivist gang are slightly yandere; happens right after season 1

✦ It was difficult. Getting by in the big London city and rent to your flat was quite ridiculously high, even for usual london rent standard. But thankfully, a position in The Magnus Institute had opened and you managed to get the spot after wrangling out your best qualities to the HR like you're trading them.

✦ Now, you were aware of what you were getting into. I mean, an institute that's notorious for having many people going MIA or dying, but this was the only job that accepted you out of the millions you applied for and frankly, it pays better than most of them.

✦ So, you worked as the institute's librarian. It shocked you to know that they have their own personal library but at the same time, you kind of expected it. After all, it is an academic institute and there's bounds to be numerous books and soucres to cite for every statement given, regardless of how strange there are.

✦ You've met a couple on the job. Some were nice and often has small talks with you while some simply comes and goes, not even bothering to talk to you unless they're checking a book out. It was fine, of course, you can't help but feel disheartened. After all, all you do is stand by, organize the library and do nothing. It gets a bit lonely sometimes.

✦ And then, one day, a certain someone came to the library and it was no one other than big boss himself— Elias Bouchard. You never met the man before, only hearing him from Rosie and the others, but he is generally well-disliked by his own staff. You had nothing to complain about him and honestly, you find his company nice.

✦ He comes to the library whenever he has free time and then would talk to you. It wasn't just small talk, not just noise coming out of his mouth to fill in the silence, but he talked to you. He told you so many things— his opinions, his likes and dislikes —and even asked you about yours.

✦ Elias would listen intently, taking in every information about yourself in a manner so ... different from how he usually carried himself. Elias Bouchard was a prideful asshole and you knew that obviously well from just his body language, and yet when it comes to you, he is oddly soft. He reminds you almost like a dad for some reasons.

✦ And your relationship with your boss became like that. You didn't mind, you understand to some degree but even still you couldn't wrap your mind around why he chose specifically you. Maybe he didn't choose or maybe he did, but either way, this outcome was better than him hating you.

✦ But then, only a few months into your job, you suddenly got promoted to assistant archivist, joining the very few others in the archives in their day-to-day life.

✦ It was ... suffocating at first. The institute did suffer damage from the Prentiss Attack as you heard from the other employees and with the archives being the main target for the worms, it was not surprise that the Archivist and his team suffered greatly. Though injured, all of them still came back in one piece so that was a good thing.

✦ It took a while getting to know the others: Martin was the quickest to befriend and he'd bring you your favourite cup of tea whenever he can. Tim was the second, jokingly flirting with you at first but he was comfortable to be around and somehow both of your intensive knowledge on memes made the two of you friends. Sasha, on the other hand, took a bit more effort but in the end, she was just as fun and cheery as the other two outside work.

✦ Jon, on the other hand... He was wary, of course, a bit of an asshole too but you were determined to let his walls down, and so was the team. He gradually came to accept (aka get comfortable with) your existence and doesn't glare you like a cat you just rudely woke up.

✦ Elias... Elias isn't too pleased with this development though as you come find. He finds every excuse in the book to have you in office, stalling you just so he could spend more time with you. He had moved to the archives for one very specific reason and that was so he can watch you carefully.

✦ I mean, how couldn't he? You were so nice to him, oblivious to the concept of the entities and you didn't even care if he gets a bit 'spooky' (as Tim puts it) at times. In fact, he claimed you as his kid the moment you seem to play along with his 'little cryptid act'.

✦ But The Archival team... Oh, did they get on his nerves. But he couldn't do anything, no, he was sure you'll know and they'll tell you about what he truly is and he couldn't risk that. He couldn't lose you to them, so he'll have to just slightly abuse his power a bit. Just to have you be by his side a bit longer.

✦ Of course, Archivist and Co. can't stand by idly and watch him take their friend! And so, everytime Elias and one of them come to your desk at the same time, it's practically a tug of war for your affection and attention.

✦ It makes you laugh honestly, seeing them fight like this. Reminds you so much like a father trying to shoo away any his kid's admirers.... Only if you knew though, then you wouldn't be laughing.

notes. hi hii!!! tysm for requesting this!! i always wanted to write for tma but couldn't. ik this is a pretty old req (i think like .... from june i think?) and i wrote this months ago but forgot to finish

reqs are alwyas open!! and dont forget to reblog any of our works here on this blog, it help us a lot!!! ty again for requesting!

[sylvan-librarian]

In response to the (really good!) story for Murders at Karlov Manor, I've been seeing some (thankfully limited) discourse on the same old tired argument that Magic story has no stakes because characters can die and then come back to life as a ghost or get (seemingly permanently) turned into robot monsters and then get better eventually.

People can obviously feel what they feel and believe what they believe about Magic story, but personally, I'm just so tired of this argument. Magic story is largely a marriage of high fantasy and superhero comics. These two types of literature have much in common, but one similarity stands out in my mind: the impermanence of character death. Comic book superheroes famously won't stay dead, and while this fact has been controversial for decades, it is nonetheless a cornerstone of the genre. And hell, even in The Lord of Rings - the god-emperor and founding text of the entire fantasy genre (for better or worse) - Tolkien's wizard OC Gandalf dies and comes back to life STRONGER ... nigh invincibly powerful (if LotR was written today, people would call Gandalf [and probably Aragorn for that matter] a Mary Sue).

This not my attempt to shill for a corporation, mind you. In contrast, I'd rather see MORE people complaining about things worth complaining about:

The increasing price of the game gatekeeping so many from the hobby

Hasbro firing 1,000 employees right before Christmas

WotC sending hired thugs to someone's house over a mistake the company itself made

The focus on the collectability of cards over how they play

And I'm not even saying there aren't aspects of Magic story itself worth critiquing. To note:

The enjoyability of its prose is inconsistent at times (reread the Magic Origins stories, for example)

The messaging is sometimes off (i.e. - the worst bad guys in the entire universe are folks who use science to make their bodies more in line with their view of themselves)

The stories - especially the big epic ones - are rarely given time to breathe, and the authors are clearly asked to do a lot with very little

War of the Spark: Forsaken

Maybe asking people to have a more nuanced take on the storyline of a children's card game is too much, but I think that "story bad" is far too dismissive. I remember reading through the All Will Be One stories thinking: "Well, there is actually NO WAY WotC is going to kill off ALL of these characters that got phyrexianized." Jace and Ajani are literally two of the main characters of Magic; Nissa, Vraska, and Nahiri are maybe less popular and important to the overall setting, but they all nonetheless have their extremely devoted fans (me; I'm one of those fans; bet you can't guess of which 'walker). I find it a bit silly to assume that the mass permadeath of named characters would be how the Phyrexian arc would end. Modern Magic is just not the type of story where the creators will merc half of their cast just to appease certain sentiments about its literary value.

This post has turned into a lot of meandering nonsense, but here's what I'm largely trying to get across: I wish more people would accept Magic story for what it is, not for what they think it should be. I'm NOT saying people shouldn't have standards for their entertainment, but they also shouldn't expect Shakespeare* - or even Tolkien - from a story about wizard superheroes written to provide a backdrop for a children's card game.

*I also want to mention here: characters dying and then coming back is also present in Shakespeare.

[obscuredannyphantom]

Danny Phantom Kid Cuisine? Anyone?

Ah yes, the ghost nuggies

There are not a lot of pictures of these floating around, thankfully a user on reddit, Rhylem, seems to have posted a very thorough collection!

The theming is a bit all over the place, some of them are on point with ghost shapes and use of green but others look like they didn't do a thing to the standard meals the company makes. One of them even looks identical to a Spongebob one I saw while looking around!

Here's the contest prize on the box, I'd love to get my hands on one of these to take my own pictures but seeing as only 1000 got made that is a pretty high hope. Then again, no one is using video players these days with how much tech outpaced them, so maybe the demand wouldn't be so high.

But we can't leave this off without also sharing this

Danny's voice actor, David Kaufman, has also done a lot of work for commercials, making the Danny Phantom promotional very fitting.

[lavandula-ipsum]

The rain will hide us

gif by @tatooineknights

Summary: Stranded on an unkown planet, you've fallen sick. Thankfully, Luke is there with you. However, you might not be the only one in need of care.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Tags: Luke Skywalker x GN!Reader, force sensitive reader, comfort, fluff, mentions of injuries, one-shot. Angst somehow got in.

The paleness of the morning starts to filtrate through the tent, drawing the dark little spots left by quiet raindrops. Their clatter serves as a gentle wake up call while, outside, an unexplored jungle sleeps.

“How are you feeling?” Before you can even shift in your sleeping bag, Luke has already turned his attention to you, lying a kind hand on your shoulder. For a second, you miss the times when you could have just watched him for a couple of minutes before choosing to signal that you’re awake.

Truth is you feel like shit. A trash compactor could have chewed and spit you out while you were unconscious for all you know. At the effort of answering his question, a raspy whine leaves your sore throat. “Better.”

He’s sitting next to you, not very convinced. There’s urgency tingling the tips of his fingers, you can feel it through the Force. “Is it okay if I check?”

An almost imperceptible shivery note haunts his voice. In the dark circles under his eyes you can sense a long and rough night. You nod. Even though you can feel the last remnants of sickness haven't completely faded from your exhausted body, the back of his hand is warm against your burning cheek and forehead. With an alleviated sigh, Luke finally lets his hand slide down your arm.

“You still have a fever, but it isn’t as high anymore.”

“What happened?”

“Do you remember the crash?”

“A little. I remember the battle, the evacuation when the ship went down.” The mission you embarked on seems to have failed spectacularly. You try to sweep away the thoughts of your fallen comrades, at least till you get back and get to know for sure how many of them are actually gone. “We got into the same escape pod and… this atmosphere messed with the navigation systems, I guess.” You grumble, rubbing the side of your head. “Why don’t I remember much after that?”

“You were trapped in the wreckage for a few minutes. I couldn’t take you out earlier. (Y/N), I’m so sorry. You got some cuts and superficial burns. Perhaps a broken rib.” Oh, so that’s what the bandages are for. And probably why you’ve been stripped down to your standard issue underwear. Suddenly, Luke avoids your gaze and an uncomfortable ripple flutters through the Force, but you’re too distracted frowning at the new scratch across his cheek.

“Did you get hurt?”

“No, I’m fine. But you… You were feverish the whole night.” He continues, bringing the med kit closer to show you a box of painkillers, an empty stim canister, an open tube of pomade, anxious to let you know everything he gave you while you were unconscious.

“It’s ok.” You set your hand over his to stop his nervous tinkering through the med kit. “I trust you, Luke. How many times have we done this? Tell me, what happened next?”

He licks his lips, then looks down at his hands. “You became really sick.”

“I’m sorry. I must have scared you. This is all my fault.” You groan before he can start giving you a thousand reasons why it isn’t. “It really is. I knew I was already sick before the mission. It was just a cold two days ago, but I guess it made me more vulnerable to whatever I caught here.”

Luke shifts closer to you, suddenly alarmed. “Why did you come to this mission then? Why didn’t you say anything?”

You remember those agonizing moments when he didn’t show up at the rendezvous point after the battle of Hoth, gone to Force knows where, while you were left alone wondering if he’d been killed. Turns out he’d just left on his own. It’s not as if he owed you any explanation, you were merely friends. He's fated to go out there and do things so far greater than anything having to do with you. So you tried to slap yourself out of this silly anxiety. After all, the others were gone with the Falcon too, and you had to resign yourself to the faith that they'd be alright. 

And then Luke came back, his body battered and his spirit broken worse than you’d ever seen before or since.

Shyly, you slide your fingers out of your cover. He quickly holds them in between his palms. You’re sure the sky outside the tent would pale in comparison with the intensity of his tired gaze right now, glassy and blue. And yet, all you manage to conjure in response is a lie.

“I wanted to feel useful. The Rebellion needs all the hands it can get.” 

If he realizes, he doesn’t say anything. He just leans in to warm your cold hand with his breath. Luke might not be a full Jedi just yet, but he can probably sense how tired you are of this game of claiming guilt for everything, of just rambling around the edges of what neither of you feel brave enough to say. He just knows you that inescapably well.

For now, the tent has become quiet, so quiet you can even hear him swallow. After a second of allowing yourself to stare at the muscles of his neck tense up and relax with the motion, you look down and sink your flaming face into the sleeping bag.

Against his advice, you sit up. The chill bites your exposed skin, setting a feverish tremor within your chest. However, you don’t let him make you settle back into the bedding.

“Can I say something without it turning into another exchange of apologies?” you ask. Noticing your sudden eagerness, he nods. However, his hands remain close, as if you were about to collapse. “Thank you for saving my life. Truly.”

He seems about to reply with some excuse, probably minimizing himself once again, but you raise a warning finger along with a threatening expression. It makes him laugh, brighter than he’s laughed in months. It lasts too little for your taste, but at least the smile lingers on his face.

“Ok, you win this one. Now, that pomade needs to be reapplied.”

After taking a panicked second to realize what he’s asking, you turn slightly so he can get better access to the burn, which covers the back of your shoulder and part of your right arm. Luke scooches closer till you’re basically sitting between his legs. You wonder if he notices his warmth setting you aflame, but he seems too busy readying the ointment to even look at you, his eyes half hidden under soft locks of weathered gold. However, a loaded silence falls in the tent, during which you feel the urge to cover your front with the sleeping bag. 

“It’s gonna feel a little cold,” he warns before touching you, his voice barely audible.

You had already made up your mind to behave and not show any sign of discomfort, but you need to turn away to hide your face. Honestly, you’re not sure if it’s the painkillers or the surreal ambience around you, but you swear you’ve never been treated by gentler hands. As they work to spread the medicine, you hold yourself together barely enough to not just let go and plop yourself on his lap. You feel beyond beaten, and over your head a thick cloud keeps your judgment in a state of relaxed lethargy. Truth is his welcoming stance, along with the way his fingers caress your tender skin as he softly talks you through the process, isn’t helping your already lazy resolve.  

“I’m so glad, it doesn’t seem like it got infected. I think there’s a chance it won’t leave a scar once we can get you proper treatment back in the fleet.”

You hum half heartedly in response, doing your best to join in the effort to evade the silence instead of entertaining the thought that you don’t actually want to go back. Because he wouldn’t be with you then. Luke has been avoiding the fleet since Bespin, and you've made up your mind to follow him for as long as he wants you around.

“Have you been awake the whole night? Meditating?”

“Not meditating. Standing guard.”

When he finishes up your new bandages, you hear the rustling of knots coming undone and, right after, you’re covered with Luke’s outer robe. Apparently, your top had to be cut off your body when he first tended to your wounds. As he helps drape the garment around your shoulders and slide your arms into the sleeves careful to not graze your wounds, the warmth it still bears surrounds you. Ah, it smells like him too. 

Luke seems ready to offer an excuse to quiet your concerns over his lack of sleep, but it fizzles out before your demanding frown. A pained flare crosses behind his eyes as his Force signature heats up around you. He doesn’t mean to leave you out of his thoughts, he truly doesn’t. It’s just that lately they’ve been a mess not even he has felt ready to untangle. And, if he’s not ready to talk, you won’t push him. However, this silence is a little needle to your heart, and the jab reaches him when it becomes too painful for you to hide.

“I tried to meditate until I had to give up. I couldn’t find the peace for it. You were trembling and twisting in your sleep, burning with fever… mumbling things.”

“Were they embarrassing?” you joke, trying to lift the mood a little. However, instead of following you down that path, you feel a little tug. He’s lightly pulling at the edge of your sleeve, well, his.

“Don’t leave me. Please, stay.”

The pressure around your wrist makes it sound like an apology. Why? For letting you fall sick? For leaving you behind and going to Dagobah on his own? You’re getting tired of riddles, and you’re already trembling from the effort of sitting up straight. Your hand lands on his shoulder, a gesture that seems to finally break him out of his spiraling thoughts and look at you.

“And you did. You stayed.”

An exhalation later, you’re buried in his chest. It’s hard to tell who initiated the hug when you’re enthralled by how melting into each other makes everything else melt away. Luke’s hands travel down your hair, and you wonder when taking in this soothing became as easy as breathing. Well, not exactly. There needs to be a spell, a certain quietness to the air like the one flooding the tent right now. Melancholy is usually the trigger, the signature to the wordless contract between the two of you that grants you permission to indulge in this kind of comfort. Later you’d usually dream awake about it, lost in the memory of what feels forbidden during the daylight. It aches a little that at least one of you needs to be in some kind of pain to feel allowed this kind of intimacy. 

A sigh brushes against your ear as Luke barely dares to talk in a whisper. “What if I can’t do this?” 

“Don’t worry, the Rebellion knows we’re here, we’ll be out of here in no time…”

“Not that. It’s about-” The words get lost as they’re spilled from his lips. Luke lets out a shaky breath before sinking deeper into your hair. “Everything.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“You always do.” 

“And listen, I truly believe there’s a special path ahead of you. A bright one. However, no matter what happens, even if things go wrong, I’ll be here. I mean- we all will. We’ll love you all the same.”

You nuzzle up closer against him, prompting a pleased sigh out of him. 

“I’ve been leaning on you too much.”

You chuckle, “how so? You just saved me in, like, five different ways just during the last twelve hours.”

“What you do is way more difficult.”

A hand cradles your head close to his chest, while his other arm surrounds you. And, as the silence settles once again, you finally feel him relax around you as your hands travel up his back. Through his thin inner tunic, the heartbeat pressed against your cheek allows itself to slow down a little. 

“You take a nap now. I’ll keep watch.”

“You’re hurt,” he complains. “And sick.”

“I’ll have a blaster at hand and wake you up as soon as I hear anything outside, I swear.” You hush him before he can complain. “Do I need you to remind you of your instruction, commander? If you don’t rest you’ll compromise the mission.”

“And what mission is that?”

“Get back to base, safe and sound. And stick together until then.”

Luke brushes your cheek with his thumb, as if to check again if your fever has gone down enough to leave the task to you. “Yeah, I might be able to do that.”

So you get back in the sleeping bag so as to not get cold, and he lays down over it next to you. He does so a bit skittish at first, so you interlock his fingers with yours and guide him down to the most comfortable spot, next to you. Soon, exhaustion defeats any remaining fear and Luke feels brave enough to wrap an arm around you. Soon, sleep has taken him.With your heart coming to a halt, you finally dare to take in his features. Even though a shadow of worry still darkens his brow, his features look softer than you’ve seen lately. It takes you back to those early days in the Rebellion when you weren’t nearly as close, but talking seemed easier. So you stay awake, treasuring every deep breath and the faint rainfall in the background, until the distant buzz of the Millennium Falcon fades the spell away.

link to the source gifset

[sharkgirldick]

Some butch repairwoman x fancy robot yuri I started writing to pass the time at work.

I'm probably never going to finish it.

Legally speaking, what I do isn't robot repair. I don't have a license to fix or maintain even simple robots, let alone sentients. I'm qualified as IT repair and maintenance only, meaning I could fix your home computer, hologram projector, or even your fridge if it's the right model. Thankfully, I get enough of things like that, so my robot repair flies under the radar.

The thing that sets me apart from others in my field, aside from my dubious legal status, is the fact that I do house calls. Most places have a repair bay, and they'll expect a robot to get there, one way or another. I got a lot of my early business through leg repairs because of that, but now I get a wide array of work thanks to my reputation. Today was an eye fix, which was surprisingly common. Robotic eyes require regular calibration, but the majority of the time a robot can get away with just running a diagnostic once or twice a year. It's an eye, after all, they're meant to last. Still, that leads to the robot version of lazy eye, and can cause minor damage that needs to be repaired. If you're not lucky, the neuro-circuits of the eye can be damaged, which is a more intensive repair.

My client today is one of the less lucky ones.

I won't bore you with the details of neuro-circuit replacement, but I'll say it's long, time consuming, and awkwardly intimate work. You're up in someone's face for hours, after all. I can't count the number of dates I've been asked on after doing eye repairs. It probably doesn't help that I neatly fit into the butch repairwoman stereotype pretty well.

The walk to this client's house wasn't too bad, only about four miles from my combination apartment and shop. Despite the doorbell, I knocked on the door. The door itself was wood, a beautifully dark-stained piece that fit the small brick abode pretty well. The whole place was an oddity all its own, as most things meant to be sturdy these days are made out of metal or meldplastic.

After a moment, my client answered the door. I had to admit, I was a little dazzled. She was a very new model of Empyrean-tier pureframe biomock. That is, she looked practically human. Or, she did at some point. Instead of a standard dermal coating, she had a thin, clear layer of what I assume was custom-made silicone cover. Beneath that, the mechanisms keeping her body moving and running whirred and clicked and turned and pumped. I could probably spend hours, or even days, just sitting and examining those parts. It was really rare that I got to work with high end robots, but I've never gotten this close to one this state of the art.

"Veronica?" The sound of her voice snapped me out of my long examination. It was rude to stare at someone's body, robot or not. My own eyes moved up to meet hers. The eye that needed repair was completely out of its socket, and would probably look incredibly creepy if it wasn't a sight I was used to.

"Yep, and you're uh…" I glanced down at my schedule sheet. She was the only name on there. She had offered me a lot of money for this repair, so I had cleared my schedule. Now I understood why. "Ace?"

"Correct. Please, come in." I followed behind her. The next surprise was the interior of her house. It was incredibly old school. The floors were, again, dark stained wood, and there were flowers painted all over the walls. The furniture was clearly not factory made. She didn't even have a hologram projector, just an old school flat screen TV. She wasn't just an expensive model, she was expensive all around.

"I get the feeling you could afford better repair work than mine."

"Perhaps." She sounded amused. "Though you were highly recommended, both for your work and your looks. You are quite the specimen." I glanced down at my outfit. I was wearing a black flannel shirt tucked into a pair of jeans and a set of black steel-toed boots. Guess I really wasn't beating the stereotype.

"Would it be vain to say I get that a lot?"

"Only if you were lying." She led me to the end of a main hallway, and entered a room, flicking on the light as she did. Even more old school wiring: She had a manual light switch. Inside, the floors gave way to more modern flat white meldplastic, with a simple metal table and repair desk set up. It wasn't a repair bay, but the fact that she had her own place for maintenance showed that she was able to get personal work done whenever she needed. I almost felt a little out of place.

She hopped up up onto the table and turned toward me. "You may begin when you are ready." With a nod, I set my toolbox and materials out on the desk, then turned towards Ace.

Without preamble, I found the seam where her outer sleeve joined at the neck, and carefully peeled it off, my skin brushing the frame of her skull. I heard a soft click as I did, but I ignored it. I assumed she would tell me if I did something wrong. I opened her face plate and got to work.

We didn't talk. At all. She could have easily spoken, since she didn't need to move her mouth or jaw to if she used a speaker. Still, if she wasn't going to talk, I wouldn't bother either. Eventually, I put a cap on the neuro-circuits I was using and haphazardly stuffed them into the empty socket. Nothing should get damaged that way. I closed her face plate and slipped her cover back over her head. When it was sealed, she spoke up again.

"You don't appear to be finished." Her working eye stared into me.

"I need a break. This is a lot of small, particular work, and I'm getting hungry. It's been two hours."

"And ninteen minutes. Please, have your meal in my kitchen. Do you need anything to eat?"

"You keep food?"

"I do when I am expecting human guests." She smiled at me indulgently.

"Ah, well, I can eat fast if you've got guests coming over." At that, she laughed.

"You are my guest, Veronica. So take all the time, and food, that you need."

I stepped over to my toolbox, setting down the things I was using, and pulling out the lunchbox I brought with me. "No need." I started to leave the room, and she slid off the table, following me. Her kitchen, which I had only gotten a glance of, was as gorgeous as the rest of the house. The floor was a polished stone, and all of the counters were a gleaming marble. The cabinets were more of the same dark wood. Sitting on the counter was a small plate of chocolate chip cookies.

There wasn't a table, but there were chairs around the central island, so I took a seat there and laid out my little lunch: A sandwich, a small bag of chips, and a sports drink.

"No instant-nutrition?" Ace inquired.

"That stuff tastes awful, plus having a full stomach after eating something so small just doesn't feel right."

"I have been told that it tastes like nothing."

"Well, bland is the same as bad to me. I like to taste my food." At that, she chuckles, and continues to watch me eat.

[land-of-evergreens-and-dye]

Ok so I know I reblogged @morganbritton132 post about steve not being an only child but the youngest of like a really big family and I added my 2 bits to that post, but now I need to get this out of my brain now or it will explode. The ages are how old they are by season 4 I hope I did the math right and it makes sense. Im also hopped up on 2 midols so hopfully this makes sense.

Steve who has 7 older siblings this including 2 sets of twins. His father started his first family young after getting his high school sweetheart pregnant and was forced to marry her at 17. Thankfully his side of the family was already loaded, so his Richard's father just had him work for him and provided a cushy life that provided nannies to raise his children so he didn't have to.

He has Rebecca (38) the oldest a stay at home mom with 3 kids and a divorce from her deadbeat, useless husband.

Oliver and Penny (36) the first set of twins. Oliver has 1 kid and works as a principal and is happily married. Penny never married but lives with her "roomate" of like 15 years she's a photographer who's opened many art galleries.

Peter (35) he's a lawyer and the most like their father. Stern and doesn’t believe in handouts that a man has to work for what he gets, despite being handed everything on a silver platter his whole life. Also never been married but enjoys his secretaries a little too much.

Harold or Harry (30) as he likes to be referred to is a firefighter. He keeps to himself and honestly gets overshadowed by his other siblings' achievements. He is the most like Steve personality wise and had always liked Steve as a kid, but shunned him just so he wouldn’t get the same treatment from his full siblings.

And finally the youngest and final set of twins Olivia and Cecelia (27) identical twins who look exactly like their mother. Olivia is a professional ballerina she travels a lot for work going from theater to theater never staying in one place for long. Cecelia on the other hand is a pediatric doctor who takes her work very seriously and is one of the harder siblings to get ahold of.

Richard ends up knocking up his 20 something yearold secretary when he was in his early 50's and decides to leave his wife and kids for her. Despite how successful his 7 previous kids are, they still do not meet his high standards and thought he could do better somehow. He makes the same mistakes, though, since his new wife is paranoid that he'll cheat on her when she's not with him. Poor steve is left with nannies until he's able to properly dial 911 all by himself.

No one in Hawkins has ever met steves older siblings since Richard's first wife won the house in the divorce so he moved his new family to his old grandparents house that was willed to him after their passing. And so poor Steve grew up alone in that big empty house despised by his older siblings he never gets to see. Their mother won full custody over them the only time he got to see them was from the ages 1-7 when their dad would actually hold christmas parties at his house to show off his children and claim their accomplishments as being due to his influence. During these parties his siblings would stay for a week or 2, and Steve was never included with their activities, as he was deemed both the reason their dad left and an annoying youngest brother.

Once Steve turned 7 and the yougest of his older siblings were now 13 they no longer wanted to be around him or their father so they just stopped coming and Steve was the sole bearer of their father's high expectations. While his older siblings had each other to rely on or to share the load. Steve was all alone and was crumbling under the pressure fast.

He befriends the wrong friends and falls into the popular crowd trying to please his father, who was never around. His new friends and ability to play sports pleases the old man for a little while, but his subpar grades really canceled out any sort of positive attention he thought he could possibly receive.

Then season 1 happens, and Steve discovers just how alone he is in the world. No one can get ahold of his parents who are out of the country again and not 1 of his 7 siblings even called him back when he left a meassage telling him that he was scared and alone and concussed. He understood the ones with kids probably couldn't do much they had to take care of their own families, but the other 5 were close enough to at least call him back. He made sure to keep tabs on them in case he ever needed to contact them. They were all close enough to at least care for his well-being, and they just plain didn’t.

Season 2 happens, and Steve's new and more real family starts to take shape. Steve had bever been an older brother, so the thrill of becoming an older brother like role model to these children he had semi adopted was quite the rush. Not to mention that Joyce Byers was a force to reccon with when she set her mind on making sure the lone teen in the group was well taken care of she made sure he was well taken care of. He finally had a family after wishing for something close to unconditional love his whole childhood, and he was finally getting that. He had family dinners with the Byers and Hendersons. He spent christams at different party members' houses throughout the day it was the best christmas he had ever had. He was loved and happy. Hopper wasn't 100% a father figure, but he was there more often than his own father, so he was already leagues better than his bio dad.

Unfortunately season 3 happens and Steve is met with the unfortunate pattern his life keeps taking. Where any good thing that happens to him, wether that be secret hangouts with Harry when they were kids or dinners with Hopper and El, must come to a usually lonley and painful end. Hopper is dead and Steve blaims himself, he loses the Byers +El, and he is once again ignored by his bio family while suffering a high grade concussion and side affects from the drugs still left in his system. Not 1 person from his family could come to the phone or call back. He doesn't even know why he bothers he's positive that he could die and no one would care or find out until his parents returned moths after the fact and found the house empty and covered in dust. And even then it would take a week of being mad about the state of the house before someone paid their condolences to his parents that they'd find out what happened to the youngest Harrington. Steve's convinced that they wouldn't even be sad for long. Why would they be sad about someone they hardly knew, he was just a background character in their lives if that. Not a thought spared to poor homewrecker Steve, probably served him right. But Steve does get a platonic soulmate in the form of one Robin Buckley who fits in perfectly with his found family and helps soothe the loss Steve feels in the Byers/Hoppers absences.

Season 4 happens, but they defeat Vecna. The plan works Eddie makes it. I'll bet a couple of pounds lighter and a few skin graftes later. But Eddie lives and is promptly handcuffed to the bed still being charged with the death of Chrissy and now Jason. And Steve can barely stand, but he will not sit around and let Eddie get pinned for this whole mess, not on his watch. He calls and calls and calls Peter until a full 2 days pass he finally picks up.

13 years and he finally picks up Steve is pleading and crying and bargaining, trying to get Peter to take Eddie's case. He promises never to contact him again if he would just help him this one time. That Steve will pay double no tripple what he charges for his services if it means he will help him. Peter hems and haws but finally agrees. And tells Steve that he only needs to pay the regular price. Steve finally sags into the hospital bed in the same room as Eddie, who is thankfully asleep in the bed next to him. He can finally relax knowing his family will be safe and happy, Peter has never lost a case yet.

The issue Steve was not prepared for was that apparently Harry had had enough of his family treating their youngest brother like nothing and after the most recent call from Hawkins general decided to go and collect his brothers and sisters to all go make sure their little brother was alive and fine. They had been talking about reconnecting with the youngest for a while now, but never really did anything about it, life got in the way and the yearly phone calls regarding their brother never seemed important enough in the grand scheme of things going on in their lives.

Well Harry had had enough and when he went to collect his siblings and finally got to Peter, Harry was absolutely furious to find out that after getting ahold of one of his family members. Family members who were supposed to love and care for him, their youngest sibling. All Pete did was charge the boy his usual going rates for his services. Didn't even ask if Steve was ok, he just agreed to the job nothing more, nothing less. Harry almost murded his brother right there with his 5 other siblings as witnesses. He wanted to cry for his baby brother, who he cut ties with so he didnt suffer the same fate, had no family to speak of and was alone in a hospital, again.

It took 3 days for Harry to force all of his siblings to Hawkins and into a cramped hospital room with 2 beds and a truck load of visitors for the the two occupants in it. Steve looked so confused when more than just Peter walked through the door. And at first the party thought they were more angry mob coming to finish Eddie off, but found they didn't recognize any of the faces. Except they did look familiar, but they couldn't put their fingers on why they looked familiar. Meanwhile, Steve's confusion just turns into a feeling of nothing. He's numb and not from the pain meds. No, he's numb because in his mind the only reason his siblings are here is because they think he has money. Peter must have told him about how desperate Steve was for his services and how much he was willing to pay. It's the only explanation he could come up with.

After like 10 minutes of silence as Steve's bio family stare at their little brother beaten to hell and bandged like a mummy from being demobat food, it's Erica who finally inform these stranges that they got the wrong room and to please leave. That seems to shock Steve's family into action as they all start talking over each other in response to Erica as well as critiquing the state Steve is in, the room is in, and the town is in. This starts a migraine in Steve's head almost immediately, and Robin clocks it almost just as quick. She demands quiet and gets it before asking the intruders who they are what they want.

Peter finally steps forward and introduces himself as both a Harrington and a lawyer who will be representing one Eddie Munson in his upcoming trial. All of the party's eyes land on Steve who just looks tired. But finally Steve introduces his siblings and with each new introduction he can see the hatred growing in his found familes eyes. Steve's embarrassed that they have to find out what a huge piece of nothing he is. He knew it was gonna happen at some point. After introductions are made none of the Harrington's are able to get a word out before Steve's found family decend onto his bio siblings for being the most absent and biggest piles of shit they have ever met. They defend Steve like it is their jobs and that steves siblings should be ashamed of themselves.

It's safe to say that the upcoming moths of healing, Eddies trial, and subsequent win are all very awkward and full of hate towards each other. Steve's bio family are convinced they did nothing wrong while the found family held tight to the belief that the bio family did everything wrong. And Steve has just accepted that from now on he will bear witness to Rebecca having full-blown arguments with Erica like that's a normal Tuesday for him.

This does result in a happy ending though with Steve gaining not just found family but also his bio family. It's a lot of work on both sides but in the end its totally worth it. Steve finally has the big happy family hes always wanted.

I personally think this would end in steddie and the whole family minus his parents would be at their wedding. And that Steve's bio siblings would have to also win over Wayne's approval. But that is totally up to you. Thank you for reading my midol fueled rant.