#accessibility NOW motherfuckers

[thebookworm0001]

endgame spoilers

never gonna be over this

[guard-en]

EMERGES FROM THE SHADOWS COVERED IN BLOOD daily Hank day 25... collapses. work doodle because thats all i got FOR NOW.

[nsfwitchy2]

Mad at my parents so I’m gonna lay at the very top of the stairs up to their rooms and block the path until they apologize to me

[hussyknee]

Reports indicate that Sri Lanka’s cashew nut harvest in 2021 also declined by 40% from the average yearly harvest due to the weather conditions. Ratnayake pointed out that while the annual demand for cashew was typically around 25,000 tonnes, this year’s production could fall below 10,000 tonnes. Consequently, there is a significant disparity between the actual quantity needed and the anticipated production.

Y'ever think about what absolute mad decadence we live in that "vanilla" means "plain"

[potya-the-cat]

well hello void - i’m here with the update nobody has been waiting for - shockingly fucker did remember my birthday - 1 day early.

[jankwritten]

Clubbing dumb rich idiots over the head 24/7

[2boldlyqueer]

This has popped off more than most of my posts, so I want to add some resources for folks about IDs.

The number one thing that helped me start writing IDs was this image:

[ImageID: A guide to writing alt text, titled "Writing Alt Text". There are five bubbles of different colors underneath with writing in them. "Identify who" is in green, "expression" is in pink, "description" is in blue, "color" is in yellow, and "interesting features" is in orange. Beneath that is a photo of a capybara with an image description next to it that reads, "A capybara looking relaxed in a hot spa. Yellow yuzu fruits are floating in the water, and one is balanced on the top of the capybara's head. This text is marked with different colors that show what part of the ID describes which of the important components. At the bottom it says "Source: veroniiiica.com" and the word Puzzle as a stylized logo. /EndID]

After seeing that, I checked the source for the image, and found a very helpful website called Veroniiiica (Veronica with Four Eyes). It's a site by someone with low vision about all sorts of visual accessibility. I recommend exploring her posts to learn more about life with and accommodations for visually impaired folks, but if you only read one she's got the most comprehensive guide to IDs and alt text:

She also gets into the difference between alt text and image descriptions, which is important to understand, as they are different things! I find alt text much more difficult than image descriptions because they need to be as brief as possible.

Tumblr thankfully allows a longer alt text, so if I don't have the energy to be super concise I can still put something there. However, only the person who is uploading the image on Tumblr can add alt text, so it's better to put something there even if it doesn't hit every category in the image above.

For formatting, this is a good post talking about formatting of image descriptions and alt text. The rest of Lane's blog, @askablindperson, is full of helpful info about image descriptions and other blindness related resources! The OP, @normal-thoughts-official, also has a lot of great accessibility related stuff on their blog.

The very short summary of that post is that you should include alt text AND image descriptions whenever possible, try to keep the ID as close to the image itself as possible, make sure to put ID and End ID at the beginning and end, only use regular text (don't make it tiny, italic, a different color, or things like that), and that the very common practice of using brackets isn't necessary. Also, don't put them under a "keep reading"! Those often glitch or break, so you can't guarantee everyone who needs the ID will be able to get to it.

If you still want to read more about how to ID, this masterpost by @cepheusgalaxy is awesome (and helped me refind the specific resources I'm highlighting): https://www.tumblr.com/cepheusgalaxy/752115718263373824/image-descriptions-tips-tuts-masterpost

On a final note, the two best things for improving your IDs are to write a lot of them, and to read other people's! Many of us who do descriptions will tag the posts they ID with something like "described". In addition to anyone mentioned in this post already and anyone who made posts in the masterpost, I recommend looking at any of these blogs. Many have resources of their own on IDing, and some are just folks I've noticed are particularly good at IDs and could remember. @accessible-art @cannondisabledcharacters @can-i-make-image-descriptions @accessibleaesthetics @online-accessibility-sideblog @disabled-dragoon @disabledsun

Listen, I know we're all exhausted, but we gotta get better about adding image descriptions to disability related stuff. Everyone should be IDing everything anyways, but there's a particularly cruel irony in disability related stuff not being accessible to folks with low/no vision.

[theprettynosferatu]

CW: Non-consensual, Intox (aphrodisiac), Mind breaking.

Two years. Two fucking years of work down the drain. The worst two years of her life, working towards a goal she knows she’ll never see, and all because someone up the chain of command got bribed or threatened or who knows what else. What matters is someone fucking sold her out and now she’s bound up, staring at the gang of absolute sadistic freaks she has pushed herself so hard to infiltrate. 

Shit, the things she has done to be accepted as one of them! Well, “one of them” is stretching it. More like a trusted groupie, she figures. The amount of “slutty, fiery latina” acting she has been forced to do almost makes her throw up. It’s a stereotype and a racist one at that but damn it if these dumb motherfuckers raised by porn didn’t appreciate it, in a sick way. And all of it for a goddamn rumor.

They have this new shit, this kinda spray thing, makes any girl wanna fuck you like crazy… True Love, they call it.

Yeah, right. But still, the chance that such a drug could exist and flow through the streets, paired with some rather bizarre incidents of victims fighting to remain by their captor’s side… it was enough to try and get someone on the inside. And she’s ambitious, young, and most importantly, with the proper… attributes to play the gang-doll. Even now she almost wants to chuckle at the memory of the chief trying to explain that part, fighting so hard not to mention her ass. She’s not dumb. Wasn’t then, isn’t now. Without what she, modesty aside, considers the most spectacular ass in the city, the gang would have never even taken a second look at her. And she wouldn’t be here, now, tied up. 

Fuck. She realizes her mind is rambling, going on tangents, trying to escape the simple reality of the situation. She can’t move, and seven men are looking at her like she’s dessert, discussing exactly what to do to her. 

“Maybe we should use it, you know” one says.

She thinks she’s “it”, for a moment. She realizes she’s wrong as Karl, who has more muscles than brain cells and yet for some reason always calls the shots, removes one of the floorboards. Fuck! She has been in this warehouse dozens of times, looked everyone for evidence of the supposed magic drug, and has always come up snake-eyes. And it’s right fucking there, under the goddamn floor. What the fuck is it, the 1950’s? She’s tried every phone, installed keyloggers on laptops, learned every password- in her head, there had to be some clever operation at work, some devious method to keep such a huge deal secret. Nope. It’s under the fucking floor. She wants to tell them to untie her, just so she can kick her own ass. 

They laugh as they get naked, and a wave of shame crashes over her. She realizes she has seen all of these bodies before, and it makes her sick to her stomach. Sure, men get talkative when bragging and trying to get someone into bed. And men lower their guards after they bust a load- that is, if they don’t just roll over and fall asleep instantly. She has used that, over and over, to get information, to get chances to snoop.

Did she have to, though? That question has haunted her, and now it seems to grow solid, like a rock in her chest. Did she truly have to play up all those stereotypes to become some fucked up fantasy of whatever a hot latina is supposed to be? Did she have to buy all those booty shorts, those cheap jewels, those slutty heels? 

And didn’t a part of her enjoy the attention?

Fuck. Chances are she’ll die here, and she doesn’t want to die a delusional bitch. Yes, fine, being the center of attention felt nice. But the sex? No. That was awful. Pretending to be attracted to these meatheads, doing anything they wanted just so her reputation as a grade-A piece of ass would spread, faking orgasms…

Bull and shit. You’re dying here, Mariana. Stop lying to yourself. You didn’t fake all of them.

She’s yanked away from her little spiral of shame by the loud hiss of spray being applied. They’re passing a little can around, coating their cocks with… 

No. It can’t be real. It just can’t. There is no magic spray. It can’t possibly work. Sure, these idiots might think it does, but in reality, no, True Love isn’t a thing.

The images flow into one another like photographs. She knows, rationally, what is happening. A knife is cutting her bindings as two sets of hands are holding her arms. Her shorts are being sliced, ripped off her. Her legs are being held wide open for Meathead Karl. She files these things in her mind, and feels nothing. She’s there, but she’s not really there. Ah, yes. Dissociation as a defense mechanism for trauma. Mariana has read about it, and now feels mildly fascinated by the experience. 

The pain drags her back to reality. Her instincts kick in, and she braces for the suffering that is to come after that initial opening salvo. She grits her teeth, and…

The pain doesn’t come. She hears laughter as her eyes grow wide, a horrible realization dawning on her. The feeling between her legs is a warm thing, a pleasant thing, slithering up her body, unlike anything she has ever felt before. 

“Starting to hit you, Officer? Oh, this is just beginning”, someone says, his voice coming to her as if from a million miles away. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It’s real. Fucking True Love is real. Her mind reels, the interviews with previous victims rushing in her memories. The way they spoke about their abusers as if they were Gods. The way they defended them. The way they longed for them, like junkies going into withdrawal. She can’t become like them. She can’t lose herself like that. She can’t…

She can’t focus. Her mind is getting fuzzy as the delicious sensation reaches her nipples. Every inch of her skin feels sensitive, overwhelming. A pussy. My whole body is one giant pussy. She has no idea where the thought comes from, but it grows inside her as she squirms and little moans escape her lips. No. Don’t give them the satisfaction. Don’t moan. Don’t move.

“Oh, now you’re getting it. Don’t worry. It will get much, much worse”

Whose voice speaks? She can’t tell. She finds it harder and harder to care. Suddenly, her body betrays her as her hips start moving on their own, seeking pleasure, trying to coax the cock inside her deeper…

She feels on fire. She hates herself, hates how good every thrust feels, how much she needs more and more and more. Thoughts flood her, like a strange invasion taking over her mind. Cock. Cock feels good. Cock feels so fucking good. This is good. This is perfect. This is exactly what I should do. This is all I want. This is all I have ever wanted. Her mission starts to fade away. She can barely recall why she ended up being fucked like a good girl by this marvelous cock, and it feels so unimportant, so insignificant. Only the pleasure matters. She needs more. Her eyes cast around her. Cocks. Big, hard cocks, stiff for her. She starts drooling. The men laugh. She doesn’t care. There are hard cocks near her. Why aren’t they using her?

No. Snap back, Mariana. This isn’t you.

Why not?

Isn’t this better than whatever she was before?

One of the men lowered his body, his cock inches away from her face. She needs to taste it. She needs to wrap her tongue around it. She needs to worship it, body and soul.

“Oh, poor slut wants it?”

She’s not sure she understands the words. But she does understand, with a frenzied animal cunning, the desire behind them. They want her to beg. Some distant remain of sanity is pleading with her not to give in, not to surrender her voice, to keep some small part of her true self. It screams in vain.

“Please… give… cock…” she manages to mumble between moans.

“No. Not yet. You see, officer, your mind might be going, but your body is learning very fast. It’s so open now… And we intend to keep you around for a long time. No quick sell for you. So we need to… train you a bit”

Mariana knows the man is talking. The words don’t reach her until he starts playing with her nipples, and a single word takes over her entire existence.

“Cum”

She shakes. She screams. Her entire body is reduced to a single, shining sensation of absolute pleasure. She can feel something inside her breaking, giving in. She pants and a part of her expects the sensations to subside, but they don’t. If anything, the constant pleasure grows, leaving her right at the gates of another orgasm. She tries to grind, to move, to use the cock inside her to cum again…

“Not without permission, toy”, someone says. She almost manages to squeak out a complaint, but the stimulus is too strong. All she can do is squeal and moan.

The world swirls around her, colors heightened, bleeding into each other. She never wants to go back to the gray, solid, difficult past. She wants to stay here, be this- be pleasure.

“Cum”

Yes. She cums, and nothing else matters. This is all she needs. All she exists for. Her eyes are unfocused, her mouth hanging open. She feels the cock touch her lips before she even consciously sees it. The imperative is immediate. Suck. Lick. Take it deep in your throat. Use your tongue, pressure with your lips, the vibrations of your moaning. Use everything you are to please cock. 

“Cum”

Every time it gets stronger, going beyond whatever she ever thought possible. No mind can hope to withstand such a tidal wave of pleasure. As soon as she realizes they’re starting to move her, she hops up. The men don’t have to tell her what they want from her. She wants the same thing. She’s just holes. Holes need to be filled with cock. She impales herself on Karl’s dick and leans forward, letting him suck on her sensitive nipples, leaving her asshole ready, eager. She’s presenting herself like an animal in heat, and she’s loving every second of it. She’ll do anything to keep feeling like this, forever.

“Ass…” she manages to say.

“Not good enough, cunt. Come on, you can use your words better than that”

Words. Words for cock. Words to make cock happy. They own her words. They own her mind. They own her body.

“Please… use my ass… fuck my tight little hole… ram it hard! Wreck it! I need it so bad, need it so bad, need you to take me, take my ass, make me cum, never let me go, please please please…”

Even the pain feels good. Everything feels good. Humiliation feels good. Their mockery feels good. Their spit on her skin feels good. Obeying feels good.

One cock in her ass, using it with no care for her or any pain it might cause. One in her wet cunt, driving her mad. One in her mouth, using her like a breathing fleshlight. One in each hand, the promise of cum to come. This is it. This is bliss. This is heaven. This is all any woman could ever desire. This is home. 

“Such a good fucktoy…”, one mutters, trying to hold back his own orgasm.

The word infects her. Fucktoy. It starts overwriting everything inside her. Fucktoy. Her police training crumbles in her memory. Fucktoy. Her memories of her family fade away, forever. Fucktoy. Her hatred for cruel men vanishes. Fucktoy. Fucktoy. Fucktoy. It is all she is. All she has ever been. All she ever wanted to be. She’s mumbling it in between taking cock in her mouth. It rises like a gigantic obelisk in her mind, ruling over her, conquering all.

Fucktoy.

“Cum. Cum. Cum.”

Wave after wave of pleasure overtake her, crashing into each other, blasting away all that was and all that could ever be.

By the time she gets back something resembling consciousness, warm cum is coating her skin. She can feel the wonderful jizz inside her holes, taste it on her tongue still. She must have swallowed it. Like a good fucktoy. She feels so proud, so valuable, so beautiful. She made cocks cum. She was good. She was useful.

“Officer, remind me… what were you looking for?”

She looks at the man like a confused puppy.

“Cock?”

“I see. And what’s your name?”

She straightens up, full of pride. This one she knows.

“Fucktoy!”, she smiles.

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work and get access to the full library at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[tommydarlings]

pairing: dom!astonmartin!seb x sub!reader

warnings: smut, dacryphilia, pussy eating

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

“Dir gefällt das, mein liebling… hab ich recht? Und lüg mich ja nicht an,” you like that, my darling…am I right? And don’t you dare to lie to me. Sebastian mumbled those words quietly to you as he glanced up at your shaking figure while his head was between your trembling thighs, palms fisting the sheets next to your hips as he smirked up at you.

Oh that cheeky motherfucker.

You gulped with a quivering bottom lip as you squeezed your eyes shut for a brief second to get the fresh tears out of your eyes, simply to see him better.

“Eyes on me, c’mon,” he swiftly slapped your inner thigh with his big palm, “want you to keep your pretty little bambi eyes on me, got it?”

You only nodded, without being sure if you even properly understood every single word he just said to you.

Before you could sniffle and wipe the heated tears on your red cheeks away, Sebastian mercilessly attacked your poor cunt with his hungry mouth again, tongue lapping on your big clit with such desperation, almost like a starved man.

You jumped and shrieked in a high pitched tone, throat all hoarse already from all the cries and pleads he forced out of you.

Sebastian groaned and closed his eyes, tongue and lips not stopping their sadly immensely pleasurable assault on your dripping pussy,

“God, I’ve waited so fucking long for this… waited all fucking day to finally eat that pretty pussy, tastes so good, I swear-” he broke his own sentence off by basically burying his face in between your thighs, slurping all of your dripping juice with growls and moans up while his hands kept your shaking legs apart, spreading them.

You gasped unstoppably, hands trying to reach out for his head to push him a bit away since it all just started to feel like to much but that didn’t help.

Sebastian shook his head and looked up at you with a stern gaze, voice deep, “do you really think that you have the strength to push me away from you? To push my head away from that pretty cunt that’s been begging for my attention all day?” He leaned down and sucked on your clit again, tongue sliding up and down your slit with closed eyes now,

“It’s no use, liebes,” love, “trust me… you’re way to weak and let's be honest here, we both know that you secretly want it,” he whispered the last part with a smug smirk, shoving his tongue into your entrance, groaning again,

“say it,” he collected some of your juice with his tongue and swallowed it all with one gulp,

“admit that you secretly want and slowly remove your hands from my head,” he mumbled in a raspy tone.

Slowly, you laid your hands down by your side again, trembling fingers gripping the sheets in utter desperation as the tears continued staining your cheeks, “S-Sebastian?”

He hummed into your pussy, “yes, my love?”

“I'm c-close,” you admitted in a hush tone before you threw your head back and arched your back as his hands glided up to your hips, holding your body down,

Sebastian grinned, “yeah?“ he mumbled before he chuckled, giving your clit passionate open mouthed kisses again before the tip of his tongue played with your clit, “well, I’ve noticed, baby…it’s quite hard not to,” you felt him smiling, his fingers caressing your hips as he groaned into your begging pussy.

[palmettoshenanigans]

I fucking- I can't find it right now, but whichever one of you motherfuckers said Andrew's 'lack of control' was actually just intentionally calculated releases of pressure, that he was always in control when he lashed out because he lashed out in very specific and measured degrees - every single 'too far' was always 'just enough', its just no one else saw the raging volcanic inferno brewing just beneath the floorboards cus they were too distracted by how ear piercing the sound of the tea kettle going off was-

You're so sexy and I love you, but I wanna respond to you in spirit cus I can't find your post babes

We love 'biblically accurate' and 'devil's sacrament' as religious phrases yea? Well, my favorite (aside from 'heated fellowship', a black christian euphemism for fucking nasty) happens to be to 'know' or more specifically to 'know biblically', another word/phrase for fucking someone nasty.

stay with me this is going somewhere i promise pack a bag if you must

The interpretation I was raised with was that sexual intimacy was so vulnerable and exposing of one's most inner authenticity (that which apparently only God had such access to) that sex could make someone Know and See you the way Christ did (yadda yadda, "only fuck other Christians cus they'll be saved and sanctified enough to honor that blessing", yadda yadda) ANYWAY

THE POINT IS

You ever have someone in your life who just,,, saw you? Like, they could take one look at you and just Intuit Through The Vibes that something was up? Like they could just feel your energy and knew what to do or say or whatever? The kind of person who could walk into a room where you're minding your own business, doing something mundane, and they take one cursory scan of your posture and immediately ask "What's wrong?" like,,, what??? why do you ask??? what do you mean 'you can tell', I'm not fucking doing anything???

The kind of being seen for who you are that just leaves you feeling kinda exposed and tender? The kind of thing that leaves you bereft and yearning if you've never experienced it before (or had but lost it) because it feels like everyone only likes different mirages of you?

Andrew and Neil are so Relationship Of All Time because they seemed to See and Know each other like that even before they started locking lips on rooftops.

When Neil said "I want to see you lose control", i'm imagining Andrew probably felt so naked and flayed because everyone assumed he was perpetually losing his grip. On his anger, on his sanity, on reality, on his control. But like,,, Op's Spirit Of Post Long Lost, you were so fucking right. Every bit of Andrew's behavior was carefully calculated and intentionally released packages of what was his True Inner Turbulence that he would never dare release out into the open because that's not a target he's willing to give anyone a chance at aiming for.

Out of control? Andrew hasn't been that since he was probably a tween.

But Neil had never been fooled. From cigarettes and airport pickups to cigarettes and rooftop altercations, not once had he fallen for the mirage.

Without ever having needed to touch him in that way, Neil Knew Andrew. Biblically.

And that's why Andrew simply had to engage him in heated fellowship.

[on-the-clear-blue]

Champion and King Pt1

(Since yall seemed to want this...)

Danny didn't know why he was doing this, didn't know why he agreed to try this for Clockwork...

He cursed the day he defeated Pariah Dark, that great petty bastard cursed him with something much worse than a missing limb or death.

Motherfucking paperwork

And centuries of it, sure there was some meager efforts done by the Ancients over the years but at some point they just stopped.

And now he was stuck behind a desk reading mind-numbing legal jargon trying to figure out what exactly the Observants wanted him to do, the most he was able to comprehend was they wanted support for an increase of dead from leprosy...from 800 BC.

He slapped it with his decline seal and moved onto the next, another plea for more funding by Walker, accepted and pushed to another bin.

Read, Stamp, put in Bin.

That was his life now.

He had become the lamest office worker whenever he wasn't at school or sleeping, he hadn't seen Sam or Tucker in what felt like years...

His eyes skipped over lines of text, sighing as he let the paper drop, his ink stained fingers rubbed at his eyes, yawning as he did.

Stretching back in his chair, Danny stared up at the ceiling of his office, feeling some calm come over his tired mind, his ceiling was covered with stars on pitch black, his eyes could pick out constellations known and unknown, one (and maybe only benefit) of being the Ghost King was that he had full access to all of the ghosts in the Realms, others who looked up to the stars and felt hope.

Watching the stars twinkle for another minute, Danny groaned before looking back to the piles and piles of paperwork, only pausing as there was a bright pink postit note stuck on the paper that he had recently tried to read.

It was both a welcome distraction and a troublesome thing, picking it up, Danny's eyes narrowed as he read.

'Dear King Daniel, I hope this note finds you well, a pressing matter has come to fruition that need your attention. Come to my tower, I wish to speak to you.'

Grumbling, the teen stood, wincing at the creak of his bones as he stretched, he is barely over 14! Why does he have a worse back then his father!

---

Floating through the purple door of the clock tower, Danny looked around for his supposed mentor.

Letting out a grunt as he was tackled from behind, the teen glared at the pint sized Clockwork grinning evilly up at him, "Sup Unc, took you long enough, were you in Ohio? That's totally not skibidi rizz my guy, never Ohio max Danny, it would destroy the time stream."

How is this the same person thst sent that flowery worded message from before? Simple, it was an older Clock Work, as his body cycles through ages, so does his words and how they are used...sadly.

Rolling the young Clock Work off himself, Danny glared for a moment before sighing, "if you brought me here just to sprout brain rot I am calling Technus and making him ban your accounts..."

The small Clock Work glared at Danny for a moment before shifting to a more mature form, "Truely if my excited form is too much for you I fear for the other citizens of the realm." Not letting Danny defend himself the now man steam rolled on, "But that matters not as of now, for I must instruct you on another Kingly duty that you have yet to do."

Danny sucked in a breath and tried to stop the growl that wanted to come out, he would save it for his office and his mountains of paperwork, "Another? I am already drowning in paperwork! I am this close to helping Vlad get my mom just so he teaches me the duplication trick he does!" Pacing the teen dragged his hands down his face, "I am barely in the 800s BC! Undergrowth doesn't need to help save a certain flower that can only be found on one island because it fucking sunk and became Atlantis! Did you know that's how I found out it was real? Fucking Atlantis is real and I found out through paperwork!"

As he ranted Danny gripped at his hair, tugging at it as he continued "I can't even process that because I have Walker up my ass, every second paper is him asking for more funding! Why does he need more ecto? He only has 5 inmates at a time?"

Clockwork o lyrics crossed his arms, watching as Danny raved onward, after he hit the five minute mark, Clock Work grabbed the teen by his shoulders and shook him lightly, "Daniel this will not be anything like the paper work, will you kindly cease speaking and let me tell you what it is?"

---

Billy yawned and decided that today would be a good day, it wasn't really anything that was about this morning that was unnormally good or nice, but Billy couldn't shake the feeling it was going to be great!

Stretching, as he shucked off his sleeping bag, the teen rolled off his sleeping pad and fumbled for his phone, a small rinky dink flip phone he had gotten with prepaid minutes.

Yawning again as he checked on the time, he nodded, he would be able to stop by the shelter in an hour to get breakfast, he could thr pop behind the general store to see if Mister Mathew had anything he needed help with/ was throwing out.

Shuffling around his makeshift area, Billy packed up his things, slotting them into an old military backpack he had been able to snag out of a dumpster, it only had a few holes! Practically brand new for a homeless kid.

Checking over his League communicator, he made sure that the world didn't end while he was sleeping, and set off for the day, humming a tune as he walked through the abandoned subways under his city.

Coming out to one of the less abandoned places, he waved at some of the kinder homeless population, he had been on the streets longer than most, but for some reason a lot of them still treated him like he was fresh out of a foster home.

Taking a deep breath as he came up into the light of day, Billy hummed, a smile on his face as he set to do his morning rounds.

---

Okay so it seemed like the day was purposely trying to make Billy get in a bad mood, the shelter denied him entry since they were full up, which is fine, he has protein bars in his backpack.

Then it seemed like Mister Mathew forgot to tell his new hire about their little deal so he got cussed out and chased off, which is again, is fine, he will try again later when he knows for sure that Mister Mathew is actually there.

No, what was the serious thing that was trying to make him have a bad day was the twenty story tall tentacles that were whipping around trying to destroy the better part of down town Fawcett city.

"Oh shiz...am heh." Shaking his head from his own little pun, the teen ran into a near by alley, did a once over to make sure there wasn't any unexpected viewers, and then called out the old wizards name, "Shizam!"

Lighting tore through the sky and slammed into his chest, in a flash of light Billy Batson, homeless 14 year old was gone, and where he stood was Captain Marvel, Champion of Magic.

---

He didn't do it on purpose, Danny swears mentally as he flew out of reach of the dark whip like tentacle, he still wasn't used to traveling by the Ring of Rage and well...his portaling wasn't as good as it probably should be...

Sending a blast of ecto at what he could only assume to be a being outside of his comprehension, Danny sneered at it "Oy grippy face! Leave the people alone! I brought you here dammit! Fight me you sad sack of calamari!"

Grinning as his taunts got him a feral grumbling and black ichor bubbling at what he could only assume a mouth was? He didn't really care as he focused on freezing the tentacle that missed him, stopping it before it could slam into a near by building.

But before Danny could attack the beast, he froze, his dead heart suddenly pounding in his ears.

After the portal accident, Danny instinctively had a sense about electricity, he could practically taste it when there was a high voltage.

And right now? His mouth was like an ozone ocean, his arm burned once again along the lines of his Lichtenberg scar, and with a boom that rattled Danny's core and left stars flying around his vision, a bolt of white lightning shot from a figure flying not to far away towards the great tentacle beast, making it squeal in pain.

But Danny was still frozen, eyes wide and hands shaking, as another bolt of brilliant white shot out from the being, a man in a scarlet suit, a snow white cape fluttering behind him, and a golden lightning built across his chest.

Danny was not going to have fun this fight isn't he?

[thehaberdasheress]

Great news! After a ton of work, I've got my business's 2024 Kickstarter up and running! It's live now until Sunday, November 17.

I have a lot of projects underway that this project will help me see to fruition, including:

Embroidery/historical costume kits with good materials and accessible instructions

A digital sewing pattern for what can be a partlet, if you're feeling nerdy, or a way to bring damn cool sleeves to whatever outfit you want if we're being modern about it

A system of patterns and stencils that bring intricate freehand Elizabethan embroidery down from (imo) terrifying complexity to an accessible art project

And/yet/also, I know myself. I am a bit of an ADHD chaos goblin with chronic pain. So I've learned from Kickstarters past, and made sure to center the campaign around rewards that I can be certain of delivering. That is, this campaign absolutely will include vouchers for free or discounted copies of those projects if they're funded and they happen! But I know they will take time and definitely not arrive by Christmas 2024.

Therefore: I've been designing a bunch of new items that I can be sure of! I wanted to be able to show off my embroidery patterns in new and interesting ways, and find different methods of fulfillment that are ready to roll out the moment the campaign ends and I get your shipping information.

If you've ever wanted to get all the unique patterns I design for my Etsy shop in a charted PDF format? Backing my Kickstarter is the way you get that.

Some of my most popular designs will be available as decorative stickers, paper bullet journal-style productivity stickers, and a mug!

There are a lot of others, and I'll probably detail more about them over the next week and a half, but it's past 4am so I'll keep this relatively short. The outlines are up on the Kickstarter. Here's the one I'm the most excited about:

Motherfucking CUSTOM-WOVEN throw blankets!

I made the design myself, as the intersection of my obsessions with medieval celestial ceilings, sacred geometry, marine navigation, Tolkienian Elvish heraldry, and quilting. It's called "Mariner's Star", and I'm incredibly excited about it. If you don't know about jacquard looms and how they were 19th century punch card proto-computers, I think you're missing out.

Kickstarter link here!

It ends Sunday, Nov 17!

[jeffgerstmann]

why should I care that the ccp is collecting my data?

If we exclude the concept that TikTok could be accessing data on your phone that it isn't supposed to get without permission (contact data, health data, whatever) I think there's a lot of triangulation that could be done to narrow down your data to something very individual, right? Like, for example, your location data could be matched with your content to figure out things like "oh, you're recording this in front of a military base, now we can cross-reference that with what we already know about this nation's military capability" and so on.

I don't think most people operate in any sensitive areas when posting to tiktok, so that's kind of whatever, but... I don't know, maybe soldiers shouldn't use tiktok while on a military base or something. At least that's the best I can do when trying to come up with a specific reason here.

For me the catch is hey, sure, yeah, I don't want Bytedance to have a ton of personal data on me. But also I don't want fucking Facebook, Google, Amazon, Yahoo!, Ask Jeeves, RaytheonKidz.biz, or the United States fuckin' Government to have any of that data, either! Biden just issued an executive order this morning about personal data falling into the hands of "countries of concern" and motherfucker I'm like YEAH LIKE THE US OF FUCKIN' A, MAYBE? THE ONE I'M MOST CONCERNED ABOUT?

Like I don't want China or Russia getting their hands on a bunch of information about me, but in a world where US-based politicians are already attacking medical procedures and science to make things like gender-affirming care and abortion illegal, all that location data and content could have some very scary uses down the line. And that crackdown won't come from fucking China.

[e8luhs]

i didnt realize i had OCD for a long time. i never talked about it with anybody because i just never took it very seriously i suppose. everything i read about OCD would make me say "yeah i get that but its not that bad" and often the way that OCD is described its like people think its some magical fucked up thing that your brain is doing to you. for me that just... isnt the case. i thought for a long time i NEEDED to have moral scrupulosity to be a good person. a lot of the obsessions that i have are very rooted in some form of reality for me. i have OCD spirals about homelessness because i dealt with housing insecurity for years, got kicked out by my mom, and jumped into another abusive situation immediately afterwards where homelessness was held over my head to keep me in line again. i pore over my budgeting spreadsheet and calculate all of my finances for the next 3 months in advance several times over and over again because when i get the wrong numbers it scares me and i need to make sure im doing it right. i was like... well its not like im locking my door 6 times exactly to make sure that my dog doesnt die so i guess that couldnt be me. not to say that thats not how it can manifest for some people and i can see where the internal logic would get you from point a to point b in that case still but you know what i mean. i just took that very literally so i never knew

i know im mentally ill but i dont Know that im mentally ill sometimes. like i dont realize the depths in which being mentally ill affects me until someone actually lets me talk about how my thought process works on a fundamental level. same with being traumatized really. its always like i can talk about what happened to me and i can talk about my symptoms in concept but i never talk about how i really truly feel about anything and when i do it just hits me like ohhhh. this isnt normal.....

[jupiter-va]

To Clarify:

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free and if you disagree with that statement in any capacity fuck you, I will block you. Matter of fact, unfollow me! I haven't really gotten the chance to make a full statement about this on this platform because I've been busy, and I apologize for that, but I had the time to go through my following today and I realized that I definitely needed to block some motherfuckers.

While I'm here, fuck Neil Drunkmann and everything he stands for. I enjoy TLOU, and while I can't take back any purchases that I made in regard to the game before I knew he was a fucking Zionist, I will not be buying anything else. Fuck that remaster. I'm glad that multiplayer got canceled. I won't stop making the audios that I do, but I just wanted to make it clear that while I still enjoy the fan content and the community that enjoying the game has given me access to, I in no way plan to support literally anything that man does, now or in the future. Anyone supporting the literal genocide of a people is a horrible fucking person and I'm atheist, but I strongly believe that you will rot in the pits of Hell if you think that any of what the Israeli government/the IDF is doing is okay.

And please don't come to me with that "Oh why are you being political" bullshit. This is a straight up violation of humans rights. And if you expected a black lesbian sex worker to be anything but political/socially aware, I don't know what to tell you. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.