#also you submitted a bunch more photos in one ask but i wanted to ask if it was ok if i posted them separately? to spread them out yknow

[gunpowder-tim-but-everywhere]

it looks like he’s punching jonny in the stomach (not sure where it’s from but its a favorite)

[Zooterkin. Image description: The second image is of the Mechanisms performing on a stage. From the left, Ashes O'Reilly is playing the bass. Jonny d'Ville is singing into a microphone, grinning and leaning back with his arm reaching up triumphantly.

Gunpowder Tim is playing electric guitar, looking down with his arm kept outstretched to the side after strumming. He's to the right and back of Jonny, but the angle of the photo makes it look like they're interacting, like Tim's punched Jonny in the stomach. Raphaella and Brian can be seen mostly obscured behind Ashes and Tim respectively.

The first image is of the same photo, but cropped to only show Jonny and Tim. End ID.]

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Veronica Lake (I Married a Witch, Sullivan's Travels)—her look is so iconic they used her as a visual model for jessica rabbit in who framed roger rabbit and a bunch of other femme fatale types in cartoons and live action alike. i didnt think i liked women and then i saw her in sullivans travels and said gee i hope this doesnt awaken anything in me! every role ive seen her in she absolutely oozes an aura of "i know people would ask me to step on them" and her EYES bro every photo ive looked at for this submission its like shes piercing thru time and space to judge me <3

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Veronica Lake:

Her HAIR, her FIGURE, her VOICE, the way she wore LEATHER AND SANG SONGS FOR NO REASON.

I don't believe there's a person on earth who can watch Veronica Lake in I Married A Witch and not be struck by how gorgeous she is. She had that youthful wonder about her that almost every Hollywood starlet was trying to achieve. Her hairstyle (peekaboo bangs) became an iconic Hollywood style after she popularized it, and made her signature look all the more suggestive. Also, witches are tumblrs favorite!

ICONIC hair sweep

The US government literally begged her to change her hairstyle because it was TOO HOT to handle and women who copied it were getting their hair caught in machinery

Her hairstyle was so iconic and popular that the war department had to come out with a PSA instructing lady ironworkers with ways they could pin their hair up to avoid it getting bound in machinery. [https://veteranlife.com/military-history/veronica-lake/]

She played a lot of femme fatale roles but my favorite is Sullivan’s Travels opposite Joel McRea, which is a comedy. She became famous for her hair style at the time—she wore it long and parted on one side so it would fall over half her face in a very sexy way. They called it a peek-a-boo I think. You’ve definitely seen Bugs Bunny dressed up like her, so I think if she’s being honored in such a way she’s very cool.

look at her

she's GORGEOUS in her little witch outfits that she wore for promos and also in the oversized coats and pajamas she wore throughout the movie...she's got RANGE

My Grandpa supposedly dated her in high school, he drove her to school in his car every day. This is legend in the family.

She has gorgeous hair, has got the smouldering look over the shoulder down PAT, and is just drop-dead gorgeous too!

Schizophrenic icon, popularized the peekaboo hairdo long before Jessica Rabbit

She’s just so prettyyyyy

So much hot in such a tiny package. She was no more than 5 feet tall, and some reports claim as small as 4'9"

If you picture a femme fatale in your head, almost certainly Veronica Lake had a hand in shaping the image you think of. She came to embody the look of the noir leading lady as well as the sound and the performance. Certified Noir Baddie.

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist.

[jeonqkooks]

obs drabble request for when jk and oc ditch class for the day to do something spontaneous 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

our beloved summer; a drabble

"I can't believe I let you talk me into ditching class."

"Y/N, it's an elective class. And you told me you handed in your midterm paper last week. You'll live."

"I would've preferred to maintain a perfect attendance rate!" You roll your eyes, but you still settle down next to him on a bench in the middle of this empty park near the store that Jungkook just dragged you to half an hour ago. It's a beautiful spring day, flowers blossoming all around you, painting everything in vibrant colors, eclipsing the residual melancholy of winter. Part of you is glad that you let him kidnap you from class; you prefer this to being stuck indoors for most of the afternoon anyway. "Whatever. Take your photo."

Your boyfriend grins brightly like a child in a candy store, admiring the ring on your finger before he kisses your hand. The fleeting feeling of his lips on your skin makes you soften, eases the harmless furrow between your brows that never held much annoyance in the first place.

The thick clay ring on your finger is heavy and uncomfortable, but you have to admit it's cute. Silly and might be more appropriate for a 7-year-old child, but it's cute. It's adorned with SpongeBob's face, two buck teeth and giant doe eyes and all. You would've loved shit like this when you were a kid.

He's wearing a matching one on his finger too, though his is pink instead of yellow, Patrick Star instead of SpongeBob SquarePants.

Jungkook holds his polaroid camera with one arm outstretched, while his free hand raises to fit into the photo, showcasing his ring for the shot. You scooch closer to him, mimicking his pose to display your yellow accessory. It takes him to a brief moment to adjust the angle, and before he snaps the photo, you press your lips to his cheek. You feel his bunny grin widen, and for a second you worry that the brilliance of it might just blind the camera.

The photo comes out a bit blurry, a bit out of focus, though it still managed to capture your happy faces and the rings, the carefree crinkle of his eyes and the pink tint on his cheeks. You know instantly that this is one of your favorite photos that you two will ever take.

"Okay, so what are we doing now?" you ask, watching him tuck the polaroid safely into his wallet.

"I don't know. What do you wanna do?"

"What do you mean you don't know? You abducted me."

He shrugs casually. "We could just sit here then. Enjoy the sun."

"You abducted me just to sit around?"

"Stop saying I abducted you. I'm your boyfriend."

You make a face, as if to try to weasel the last word in and argue that yes, Jungkook did abduct you today. Yes, he's also your boyfriend. Both of these things can be true.

Nonetheless, you still let your head rest upon his shoulder, still let his arm wound around your frame to hold you closer. You don't remember the last time you allowed yourself to be in the sun and enjoy a nice day out without worrying about getting ahead of schoolwork or internships. It's nice, like time has stopped for a while just for you to relish the feeling of warm sunshine on your skin.

"I get sleepy if I stay in the sun for too long," you say, already sensing it creeping up from behind your eyelids.

"Then sleep. Just do nothing for the rest of the day," he murmurs, angling his face to the right so he can press a kiss against your forehead. "I know you barely slept last night."

You didn't tell him that you did, in fact, stay up until 5:30AM, hunched over your notebook, trying to finish a piece that you wanted to submit for an internship application. The only person you did tell was Taehyung, when you texted him in the middle of the night with a bunch of keyboard smashes to complain about how tired you were.

You call his name softly, as gentle as the cherry blossom petal that sways in front of you before it falls to the ground. "Did you get me to skip class just so I would take a nap?"

Jungkook's reply is immediate, a half-steady No, but you know he's lying. He has a tell when he lies, one that makes the end of his sentences come out with a tiny lilt, makes his voice go just a note higher.

Looking down at your hands resting next to each other, you keep your lips pursed as your chest tightens. He'd convinced you to miss class because he knew you wouldn't do it on your own accord just to stay home and catch up on sleep. The rings catch on some light, the pit of your stomach catches on some butterflies. Jungkook is warmer than spring itself.

You intertwine your fingers and close your eyes, mostly because you feel them start to burn and you'd rather not dwell on that thought right now. You'd rather focus on the weight of the ring on your finger and how comforting your hand feels in his, how his thumb rubs over your skin back and forth like he always does.

The thought that Jungkook cares about you enough to make up a dumb excuse just so you would care about yourself more - you'll have to shelve it away for later, to mull over when you're alone.

"Love you," you say quietly, squeezing his hand once.

More petals fall. Another kiss pressed against your forehead. "I love you too."

[allurilove]

I hate both classmates lol 😭

I personally LOVE rejection fics so now I think we all need a fic where reader dislikes both of them lol. She has a better temper with the second one(the more submissive one) but absolutely DESPISES the first classmate. He is so annoying bro 😭 if someone broke into my house and then drew photos of me submitting to them I would report that shit to the school and the police on god. Now the second classmate she just doesn’t like because of his appearance primarily. She isn’t a fan of his shaggy hair, or his piercing, or the way he dresses, he’s also too short for her. She’s cool with him though, even if she won’t go out of her way to talk to him.

tbh if the guys I wrote about were real I would hate them too! I think I have a couple of fics where yall are gonna absolutely HATE the yandere 🤷🏻‍♀️ and I have a fic where it’s yandere x yandere and dads best friend x yandere you.

Yandere Classmate

(the submissive one)

You just weren’t interested, period. He decided to confess his feelings for you on the last day of school, hoping that maybe you would like him back, and that you two could start dating. But he felt his heart drop when your expression was stoic. You started to say how you really only think of him as “that guy from math class” or “that guy that always sits near me at lunch”

His face slowly turned pink as he realized you weren’t returning his affections, and he nervously played with his backpack straps. Thankfully the hallways were empty and no one could see him slowly slide down the wall, and sit on the ground in sorrow. After all the years of pining after you… he still wouldn’t say that he wasted his time.

During the summer, he begrudgingly had to go to work. He previously got a job at your favorite ice cream shop, and now he had to actually work. Shit. He had his little ridiculous cone hat on, and a pink and brown stripped shirt with a little name tag in the corner. When he sees you walking around with your friends and you passed the parlor a couple of times, he had to duck down. He was suddenly embarrassed and self aware of what he had done. He confessed, you didn’t like him back and only saw him as a “friend”, and now he has to serve a bunch of whiny kids for the rest of the summer.

He was underneath the counter- just gripping onto his apron in hopes that you wouldn’t fancy an ice cream on a hot summer day.

Yandere Classmate

(the popular one that is the yearbook club leader)

He thought it would’ve been an obvious yes. His hands tightly gripped at the paper he was holding and he had to fake a smile. You outright rejected him in front of the whole school, and he was just trying to ask you to prom. His shoulders are tense as you walk off- not even sending a single glance back at him. His friends surround him and pat him on the back, saying that it was your loss anyways.

After school, your classmate avoided the hallway where you rejected him. Just the memories of that was enough to make him shrink back into his shell. He wanted to see you again, however, you really really did not like him. So what does he do? Get a job at your favorite ice cream place.

Your classmate rolled his eyes as his coworker hid underneath the counter whenever you walked past. He heard that fucker tried to confess his feelings to you too, so he’s a bit bitter having to work with him.

Your classmate perked up as you walked over to the parlor, an automatic smile on his face and he ignored how his coworker popped up from his spot too. Both men were now staring at you. One was a little shy and avoiding eye contact, the other was giving too much eye contact.

You both watch as the yanderes worked in a fervor trying to scoop up the ice cream you wanted. The men having to shove each other out of the way, and the popular one managed to be the winner of that front. However, the loner managed to wack his knee with the ice cream scooper.

In the end both men are panting and hold the ice cream in your face. They say that it’s free of charge, and you happily take the two ice creams.

[elvenbeard]

Reposting the boyo for a little interest check!

No mysterious third or fourth options, but if you have an opinion not covered by the poll, feel free to leave a reply! :D

I'm asking cause I had fun doodling Kerry and I love doodling stuff for others (and it would be a good excercise for sure too!). AND also I'm obviously asking cause I could use the money xD I'm still paying monthly rates for my current laptop since my old one broke at the start of 2023 and I'd be so happy to finally have that monthly monetary burden off my back xD So I'd open a whole bunch of slots - not sure yet how many (probably between 30-50), and how or when I'd go about working through them (most likely a google form where you submit your ref pic - as these would be simple sketches 100% based off of ref pics). I could also imagine streaming some or all of it, for some additional entertainment value xD

A "not more than 1 hour spent per drawing" kinda deal, or even something like pay what you want style comms. Also yeh, not just Cyberpunk as a fandom obviously, anything goes, OCs as well, (and I'll also draw your mom or your pet if you wanna xD) as long as you have 1 good reference screenshot/photo for me to work with! (obligatory disclaimer that exceptions may apply in a few highly specific cases - when in doubt just ask!)

Would super appreciate some feedback and if you'd reblog this so more people see :D tysm!

(also, my regular comms are also still open btw! link in my pinned post!)

[hogwarts-legacy-confessions]

Anon writes:

"Right, let me get this straight. 

Creators in this fandom are shamed for being over 30 or made fun of for being under 30. We're wrong for shipping our MC's with the popular NPC's but just as wrong if we share "too much" lore about our original characters. We're shamed for putting our characters in too much makeup or modern clothing, shipping gay characters because it's not "era appropriate" (despite same sex marriages being literally CANON in the game), or for not shipping gay characters "enough", imagining characters in relationships that would "never happen" because some anon said so, aging up our characters, not aging up our characters, or making an error in a fic that we shared for pure enjoyment and fandom enrichment. If we're popular, it's only because people are sucking up to us, but if we're too nice or supportive, it means we're only chasing clout — and if we DARE try to cultivate some positivity by giving accolades to our favourites on the hype blog, we're made fun of for "sending anon hype about ourselves." 

*slow clap*

It's like you people don't WANT this fandom to exist.

I speak directly to those of us who have personally felt the negative effects of this blog:

Block it, ignore it, filter it out of your feed — do whatever it takes to protect your energy. 

Fandom is a space for YOU, not some nasty-ass anon. Your blog is yours, your creations are yours, your characters, stories, artworks are YOURS and you can do whatever you want in the pursuit of your own happiness without having to adhere to a bunch of nonsensical judgements from self-entitled anons. If they don't like it, they can eat rocks. Or alternatively, use how to use the filter system. 

Babes, you owe these people NOTHING. Stop listening to them. 

Personally, I believe this blog has done irreparable damage to our small fandom and I hope fervently for it's deletion.

Bye."

....

I've done this anon the favor of blocking her from this blog so she can more easily avoid the temptation to look at it. I thank her for her honesty that what she wants is this blog deleted.

I'm not the type to cave to social pressure, so that's not going to happen.

I do agree with what this anon said about not letting things posted here get to you. People are expressing a variety of viewpoints, and oftentimes, even on this blog, others are disagreeing with them and they are sometimes even ratioed.

But - I urge you - if your presence in fandom can't coexist with any criticism, no matter how indirect, that's something that needs to be explored on your end.

I'm a creator too, you know. I'm a writer for starters. I also make the dreaded AI-audios, I make videos, I post photo mode grabs and all kinds of other things. Does everyone like my work? No. Have people expressed that to me? Yes. Have people posted anons here that applied to me, or were directly targeted at me? Also yes.

I don't expect everyone to have my thick skin, but if this blog's mere existence is that bothersome to you, I urge you to please submit an anon request to be blocked. This will make it less easy for you to peek at the blog through your fingers.

Seriously - I've already removed a lot of posts, and vowed to be more censorious going forward. If you won't be satisfied until this blog is no more, I don't know what to tell you. If you have someone in your DMs who is constantly sending you things from this blog or bringing it up, you need to ask them to stop. Otherwise, it's up to you to curate your experience on Tumblr, because I have never once seen a negative post about creators from here be reblogged by more than about one person, and often with plenty of push back. So try to put it in perspective for sure.

Hope this helps.

[bedpolls]

how many characters do you have in your inbox?

I'm sure you didn't expect a nice long response anon, but that's what you're getting.

Right now I have 50 asks in my inbox, including this one. The last time I completely emptied the inbox was on 5/14. Best case scenario, is that it will take about 2 hours for me to sort through and post the requests to the queue. Once I got over 100 asks in less than a 48 hour period, and straight up spent 4.5 hours sorting through them. Here's why it takes me so long.

I do a basic search to make sure the character in question isn't a minor, and to figure out what their actual name is. I cannot stress this enough, idk shit about 90% of the requests I get. I don't know who that character is. Any mistakes made with names or photos chosen aren't because I secretly hate you and that character, or because I'm being malicious. It's because I've got little to no way to know what's correct. I'm going off shit on wikis, and most of that content is written by a bot nowadays anyways.

For me, the ideal submission format is "[FULL CHARACTER NAME] from [FULL TITLE OF MEDIA]" and that's it. That way I can just copy/paste directly from the ask into google. I have not instituted this as a rule, simply because I can't get people to read what rules I do have in the first place. Idk how much more eye catching that posts needs to be. It's bold, in red, and pinned to the top of the blog. If I put in a requirement for formatting, it would disqualify most requests, and I don't want to do that.

Some people feel the need to editorialize in the request itself, which tbh I mostly ignore. I don't care why you submitted this character. Idk anything about this character. Do whatever. Live your best life.

A random character nickname + acronym for the title is also the worst. I can usually figure it out, but it takes longer. When I've still got 30+ requests to get through, that's frustrating. I think sometimes people will just put the acronym for a piece of media in out of habit, or because they see I've used an acronym at some point in the tagging system. Tumblr does recommend tags, and that's why I might use it. This means that, when an acronym pops up again in the ask, I still don't immediately recognize it until I can remember googling it two weeks ago the last time that piece of media came up.

When it comes to the age of characters, I'll be honest I have much less patience. Sometimes I will google "[CHARACTER NAME] age" and what comes up is a spirited reddit thread, where people are arguing about whether or not the character is 15 or 45. Or 16 or 1500. Or whether or not they count as a minor, if they're physically 13 but actually 120 years old. Or whatever. I just fucking delete those, I'm not dealing with that shit.

I also often have to search the blog or scroll the queue to see if I have done the request before. There's a few video games where I've gotten a bunch of requests, there's a shitton of characters, and the names all blend together. If it's a duplicate, I delete those requests.

Generally speaking though, I try my best to ensure that every request gets posted. Yes even if it's weird, even if it's niche. You can submit characters from that one webcomic, or that one movie you love from 1954. The only requests that get deleted are ones that are 1) duplicates 2) violate the posted rules or 3) are so incomprehensible that I have no way of knowing what the fuck the requester is talking about.

[blackbackedjackal]

I hope this isn’t a weird question, but how did you get into the practice of studying coyotes subspecies etc? Do you have to collect to be able to do so, or can online resources help? And where do you submit your findings. I’d love to get into something similar but I’m broke and unsure where to start

Not weird at all! It's just like, sort of a domino effect more than anything and a lot of really lucky interactions. It was like I had some major pieces of a big puzzle some but was missing other major parts that I eventually found by thinking outside the box.

I am not a researcher in the professional sense. I already had an interest in canids before I focused on coyotes, but it was an artistic interest. Color morphs and anatomy were interesting to me because at the time I wanted to improve on my art. So as I was going down different rabbit holes and collecting physical references (pelts, skulls, soft mounts, etc.) I noticed the one canid that had very little scientific research on them at the time were coyotes.

I couldn't find the answers I wanted online because the work hadn't been done. It was only in the mid 2010s this research finally started to surface in very random pockets online. But nothing as detailed or cohesive as the research done on ranched foxes, domestic dogs, and wolves. They were pretty much ignored by scientists because the stereotypes about them I believe kept people being scientifically interested in them at the time. The only information outside of Wikipedia were basically random studies published online, or old books I had to buy because the info had never been archived online.

So I figured, if I collected a bunch of them, I would have a library of information yet to be deciphered. I knew that genetic material would be needed at the bare minimum, and what better places than the roots of their teeth or the hair follicles to get the info from. I collected to archive any strange ones I came across and over time just got more detailed about my collection and data collection process the more I learned about how museums archived their collections. That's why I became a taxidermist, as it allowed me to collect things like tissue samples and work on the entire animal to get more information that I couldn't get from just buying skulls and the odd colored pelt.

I also attracted the right people interested in similar work through my blog. The three main researchers I work with I met through tumblr. We just all had the "we love coyotes bug" but in different ways. We started off chatting very casually and professionally (or about Steven Universe lmao) but they're some of my closest and dearest friends now. They were the missing pieces of my puzzle because the independent studies they had done about coyotes or other canids covered the gaps in my knowledge. We were able to teach each other and help each other.

Everything I've learned has come from independent study or group collaboration. I've spent thousands of hours just looking through all sorts of archives, online stores, libraries, forums, anywhere I thought may have some nuggets of information. I archived everything I could as any information was better than no information. I had to piece together various timelines, and corroborate that information with my friends who were more genetics or anatomical focused. We'd ask each other questions and were almost guarantee one of the 4 of us had an answer, had saved a book or article that may have the answer, or knew another researcher we could contact that had the answer.

So after years of this, the information became second nature. I went from not knowing anything about the subspecies, to being able to ID them form photos online or pelts and skulls in our collection. I went from having very little information, to an entire archive of scientific and historical data I collected on coyotes. We built our library and our community together. And even after all that STILL have not completed the puzzle, but we've gotten far closer by working together.

So to answer your questions, I got into the practice by practicing. To this day I'm still learning and archiving and updating my notes as I learn and improve. Nothing is set in stone but we have many hypotheses we've been muddling with and lining up things to aid in us to get actual funding and more definitive research done. We have plenty of questions, and some soft answers or plausible and likely theories, but we haven't shared any data because we either need to get the funding to run the tests we need, need to find other researchers who can help us add to our collective data, and in general just need the time to collaborate together in person (some of us are planning to move in together in the next few years though, so that's when things will really kick into high gear lol). Yes, online resources can help if the species you're interested in already have plenty of researchers who have published their findings, coyotes just aren't one of those species. Collecting physical specimens helps only if that's part of your research (like pathologies) AND if it's ethical to even collect those species to begin with. Coyotes are so numerous that we'd be able to have hundreds or thousands of specimens between the 4 of us and not effect their numbers (hopefully we won't need that many but like defiantly several hundred). Other species well, better get ready to jump into field research or working at conservation centers. Collecting information is (usually) free can often proves to be more valuable than many specimens you could collect. Like I can only decipher what's going on with my coyotes because of the books and articles and information I've read an gathered, especially when it's good information done by previous researchers.

We haven't shared much online aside from some specimen info/photos and things we can definitively say because a lot of our hypotheses either haven't been tested or proven/disproven. We don't want to spread any misinformation as that could ruin our reputation within the STEM community before we even begin, so until we have some tested and peer-reviewed info ready to publish (which is years down the line) and a couple of us get some more college/professional degrees under out belts, we've kept our research to ourselves for the integrity of the project. But we will be publishing any and all information when ready as a free online resource for other researchers. We want more people working in the field of coyote research and we're trying to help streamline the process so it's easier for people with no experience to get involved so they don't have to spend 5 years just researching HOW to research coyotes like we all have.

It's essentially self-led independent study. You have to just want to do it to do it. There's really no wrong way to do some general looking-up-things research. The hard part is learning how to do it ethically, scientifically, AND accepting you will make mistakes over and over that you have to be willing to self-correct. And trust me, it's far easier to do all of this if you find other people that you can work well with. You ain't gotta be besties (I just got very lucky in that regard), but you do need to be willing to corroborate your findings to check your work and ensure what you're doing is accurate.

tl;dr

[bonesbuckleup]

You’re writing a book?! What the hell that’s so exciting!!

I was gonna ask you about it bc I’m 👀🍽️ but then I saw the ask game you were having and realized that nr 17 fits perfectly >:) (ofc you can be as specific as you want/are able to be) I’m also really curious about 23, more specifically if there’s a place you often go to where you generally feel more productive?

(and if these have already been asked you can just pick whichever question you feel like you want to answer lol ♥️)

Answering out of order!

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

I have a standing desk in my bedroom with a walking pad. On that desk is a Bluetooth keyboard, a stand for my laptop, and a second monitor. There's also a lamp, some speakers, a copy of Save the Cat Writes a Novel, a bunch of notebooks, some scrap paper, a mug with pens, some thumb tacks, and a candle. I've got a white board to the left, cork boards, and a conspiracy wall of paper taped everywhere for easy-access notes. I'm talking full Pepe Silvia set up, to be honest. It is not elegant, but it gets the job done.

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

Rambling vaguely about my original projects beneath the cut. There are two: the one I'm about to rewrite that I've been submitting to agents, and then the shiny new thing.

Project One! A YA contemporary fantasy novel called Initiate. To steal my twitter pitch/aesthetic.

The women of 16-year-old Cal Townsend's family have two traditions--witchcraft and secrets. When her father suddenly dies, and Cal is sent to live with her estranged maternal grandmother on a remote island in Lake Superior, Cal unknowingly enters into both. Initiate has:

Great Lakes gothic vibes

A Superior-based magic system

Queer kids trying their best

Sentient shadows

Hauntings of various kinds

Breaking generational curses

So! Much! Ice!

ANYWAY. I am about to rip that one apart at the seams, so that's all I have to say about it. However, I am also working on a new one that would probably appeal to Batfam fandom fans, so why not pop it in here as well.

It does not have a title yet, and is only the crime mage boys wip.

Set in a world that's exactly like ours except magic is an unquestioned part of it, the vibe of the crime mage boys wip is The Outsiders meets Rear Window but, like, also with magic and Chicago. Basically almost everyone has the capacity to do small magic (light a cigarette with a snap of the fingers, etc etc), but a small portion of the population can't do any (null) and another small portion can do big magic (mages).

The Grayson brothers (I know okay shut up) are hanging on by a thread. Leo (23, null, Tired™️) has been his brothers' legal guardian for the past 5 years and works multiple jobs with long hours to keep them afloat. JT (18/19, on week 52 of being in a bad mood) was a promising mage who had his magic permanently cut off by the police after being in the wrong place at the wrong time-- effectively torpedoing every future plan he'd ever had in a single night and leaving him floundering. Miles (14, protagonist, text book flight risk) just wants to keep his head down and not add to his brothers' many problems.

To bring in some extra money, Miles secretly works for a PI and helps her gather evidence (photos of cheaters caught in the act, checking to see if people really live at addresses--low risk recon jobs, basically). But add in a witnessed murder, a DIY-vigilante who keeps putting himself in Miles's way, and a growing mages' rights movement sweeping over the city, and Miles is getting a hell of a lot more than he bargained for.

ANYWAY that one is still very much in progress, but please enjoy these picrews of the three brothers: Miles, JT, and Leo, in that order.

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super 025

YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME!

I AM INVINCIBLE!

I AM BANE!

This episode sucks rotten eggs.  In the movie, Goku turned Super Saiyan Blue to show Frieza his full power, and then Frieza responded by transforming into his new ultimate form.  In Dragon Ball Super, that moment is spread across two episodes.  Goku turns Blue in Episode 24, and the ““cliffhanger”“ is him asking Frieza to show his stuff. 

So you’d think Frieza would open the episiode with his transformation, but he doesn’t.  He talks and talks and talks and talks and talks and talks and talks and then he finally transforms in to Golden Frieza.  While this is going on, Jaco tries to take some photos, and he insists that this is for his report to the Galactic Patrol.  Bulma asks what will happen when he submits the report, and he says the Earth will likely be designated a hazardous zone and the GP will destroy it with a missile.  So Bulma stomps on his camera. 

Then we see Jaco with another camera.  This is the “highlight” of this half of the episode, because at least something is happening here. 

Now that we’ve finally got Golden Frieza on the board, let me take a moment to critique his design.  In this scene, he actually looks.... pretty cool!  Honestly, this might be better than he looked in the Resurrection F movie.  I think the trick is to stick closely to the Fourth Form Freiza design, and to add plenty of highlights. 

Also, he looks pretty fucking sweet when he’s got the aura effects.  They put some red into it and it’s very pleasing.  He actually looks like he’s made out of gold.  When he’s powered up, he looks like hot gold. 

The problem is that, most of the time, Golden Frieza winds up looking like this.  Without the shiny highlights, without the fiery aura effects, he looks like a bootleg Frieza action figure that got the wrong color scheme.  All the yellows are pale and brown.  He looks like he’s made of mustard, or baby food, or Super Saiyan 4 Goku’s pants.  He looks like shit, figuratively and literally.

Anyway, they fight for a little bit, and then we cut to Beerus and Whis heading for Earth to collect Bulma’s sundae, but they run into Champa and Vados first. Beerus gripes about him trespassing in Universe 7, when Champa belongs in Universe 6, but they end up going their separate ways. 

When Beerus arrives, Jaco asks Bulma to take a picture of them together, and she realizes that he was lying about using the photos for his official report.  He just wants these for his personal scrapbook.  Okay, but if that’s so, then why did he say all that crap about the GP destroying the Earth?  I’m pretty sure he has two cameras because he uses one for work photos and one for personal photos. 

Also, now that I’ve read the Jaco manga, I’m finding all these Bulma/Jaco scenes really irritating.  Isn’t Jaco really powerful? Like, not on the level of the Z-Fighters, obviously, but he dropkicked a rocket away from a city.  Yet he allows Bulma to just manhandle him throughout this arc. 

What sucks is that this whole Res F business is supposed to be a nostalgia trip to the fight on Namek, and the one (1) thing they managed to successfully carry over from those days was all the pointless filler scenes where Bulma complains a lot to fill time. 

Back to the fight.   Oh, wait, this fight looks like diarrhea. 

They did a great job re-debuting Golden Frieza, then immediately backslid in to the same shoddy visuals.  So much of this show looks like a bad flash animation.  It’s pathetic.  You can accuse me of cherry-picking the uglier screenshots from the episode, and to be fair, I am kind of doing that.  There are some more on-model screenshots in my folder.

The point is that it keeps switching back and forth, and the ugliest stills always come from action sequences, or when a bunch of characters are standing around, which is like 80% of this show.  When it’s characters standing in a group, you’re given plenty of time to stare at the crappy drawing and notice how crapy it is.  When it’s Frieza hitting Goku in the A-plot, the crappy drawings all work together to make a really weak animation that detracts from the story that they’re trying to tell.

The one sequence I’ll praise here is when Frieza descends upon Goku as he lies in a crater.  It’s a pretty simple shot.  They just to a bird’s-eye image of Frieza and shrank it to make it look like he’s floating down to the ground.  They make it a little blurry as he goes, to imitate the way he’d be out of focus in a real-life camera. 

The reason I’m impressed with this is because usually Dragon Ball Super will do a shot like this by drawing the character smaller across multiple cels, and each one will get crappier as the character gets smaller and smaller.  It’s like someone at Toei finally realized it was 2016, and they can use computers to solve these kinds of logistical challenges.

[dulrond]

im guessing from your post that you dont keep up w dan and phil so ill explain some recent events??

they came out in 2019 as gay and dan said him and phil were in a relationship but that they wanted to keep their current personal life private

dan then went on a whole bunch of solo projects like writing a book and doing his own solo theatrical stage tour. phil continued his personal youtube channel and dan featured in some videos.

during this time they had designed and built a house together and after quite a bit of delay they eventually moved into the house (known as the phouse). also at the end of 2018 they put their joint gaming channel on hiatus this is important info. so dan did a bunch of solo work phil continued youtube their house was under construction.

then last year after dan wrapped up most of his solo projects they suddenly unpaused the joint channel and brought it back! early on they mentioned how the channel would be kinda different now as everyone (dnp and audience) was grown up and openly gay. importantly as well they brought the channel back because phil really missed it and just wanted to give it a go again together and dan agreed. they didn’t really think a lot of people would care or come back to watch it at the time.

um i think one of the big shifts in the channel was their 2023 halloween baking video. the vibes are just way different from before and they seem so much more relaxed with making jokes

the content just kept going from there. i dont know how much dnp lore you know but they have an april fools channel where they make crafts except it’s actually a cult. well that also went on hiatus when they took a break from the dan and phil brand. then it came back this year and it was their best yet. it was also very gay.

then BOOM they announced they were going on their third joint tour together. again dont know how much lore you know? but their tours are always theatrical with like a musical singing element and a storyline. this time they are reflecting upon the dan and phil brand and the parasocialness that came from it.

so that brings us up to today (the day before tour begins). one of their recent gaming videos they played a couples cardgame. it was a gifted game from their sponsor so. they have never really done anything like that where it is so explicitly this is for Couples. this is to play with Your Partner. this is a Date Night Game. and like yeah it was gifted so there was a reason to play it other than that. but everyone in the phandom did not expect that kind of video. i mean the cardgame company (called relatable) gifted them other games months before so we knew about the date game as well. and then someone realised they own it as it was in the background of a photo/video i forgot. so we all joked like haha what if they play that,,, but then they did????

and then moreee recently is phil asked people for questions for a q&a. specifically he asked for tour or life update questions. it was very casual. for a bittt more context previously phil asked people to submit their favourite most popular dan and phil conspiracies they have ever heard about as it will be used in a segment in the tour. a HUGE theory back in the day was that dan and phil got married in japan in 2015-2016. so back to the q&a video. dan and phil immediately open it with will you address the japan conspiracy. there’s no more detail than that. and then they go what the one where we got married in japan? so first they know specifically which one but then SECOND phil says we’ll be addressing it as part of the tour.

so whilst dnp were very like. we aren’t sharing a lot about our relationship in 2019,,, since the revival of the gaming channel they have been slowly wanting to talk more about stuff. and now we are like ? are they actually going to talk about it explicitly and openly as part of tour?

im so sorry that was so long but i had no idea how else to explain it without all the context 😭

omg this must have taken you so long to write thank you so much 😭 i actually keep up with them but i hadnt watched the new videos yet and kept seeing gifs and prints from them and people were like being really cryptic ab what they were saying and doing do i was super confused 😭

[notjustbees]

Hello Yellow!

Just a random person with a phone and easy access to a bunch of wildflowers ~

Wanna submit own photo? Go ahead, you're more than welcome to, just make sure you keep in mind these guidelines:

Gotta be some bugs, gotta be some flowers ~ 🌺🪲

We're looking for pollinators here, so sadly no spiders / dragonflies / other predators.

On that note, if you manage to get a photo of like a hummingbird or a pollinating bat, first of all, WOW, second of all, feel free to join in!

On my end, I'll be @/ing your blog in the description by default, but you can ask to be anonymous, and if you want to take down a photo you've sent in at any time, all you have to do is ask.

Wanna try and identify an insect? I don't know bug identification at ALL so your guess is as good as mine. Here's the guidelines if you wanna take a stab at telling what the heck is going on in my blurry amateur photos:

Since no one's really getting a good look at the bugs in question, message me and I'll note "guesses" in the description, but in the end nothing will ever be "confirmed."

Well unless you're submitting your own photo and know exactly what you're posting...

If someone's already tried to identified a bug, but you think it might be a different critter, please try to be polite about it. I'll note any alternative guesses in the description also.

I'll credit any guesses in the description, like with the photo submission you can choose to be anonymous, or remove your guess altogether, whenever you wish.

Blog-specific tags & titles:

"We now interrupt our regularly scheduled programming..." 📻 > Non-pollinators

"Hark! A stowaway!" 👾 > Invasive species

"And now, for something completely different."🍄> Guest photography

[onenicebugperday]

@dismalsheen​ submitted: Hi! I’m sending a bunch of cute bugs your way hehe All of them found in Italy! Now, the first two I’m pretty sure are saitis barbipes male and female, not sure about the other spiders though! Also do you have any idea what the red caterpillar might be?

They are all beautiful! I’m especially a big fan of the waving jumping spider in the first photo and the precious mantis in the last. Definitely agreed with your ID on the first two photos! The third photo looks like a jumper in the genus Icius, but the fourth I can’t tell without a better photo. The jumper in the fifth photo looks like a half-edged wall jumper.

You didn’t ask for IDs on all the other ones, but in case you wanted them, they are, in order: a western conifer seed bug (non-native), not a caterpillar but a beetle larva though I’m not sure which, a passenger moth, an adult antlion, and maybe a European mantis although I’d need more photos to say for sure!

[winter-soldier-vibes]

just a wittle request, could you do something where bucky comforts the reader who has mommy issues after she has a panic attack over the thought of turning out like her mother?

Hi there, sorry this took so long! I still haven’t processed my own so I had to take a few breaks. I apologize if this is off the path of what you meant, I’m going off of my own experience but I know it’s different for everyone.

You're nothing like her.

Bucky x reader

Word count: 3219

Warnings: mommy issues, toxic childhood, talk of divorce, panic attack/anxiety, negative self-talk

A/N: This takes place in a timeline where Bucky is retired

-------------

You did everything you could to avoid it. To avoid her

You left home as soon as you could. When you were in college you were surrounded by people who were homesick, people who wanted to go home, people who finally had to take care of themselves. Things you couldn’t relate to.

You had been supporting yourself most of your life. Not that you had much of a choice. Your dad left when you were younger, your mother blaming it on you. If you had been better, maybe he wouldn’t have left. You, being young, believed her. What else were you supposed to do, growing up in a world that preaches ‘mother knows best’?

Load of bullshit to you.

You knew better now, being an adult, that she didn’t know best. She worked or went out with friends and left you to raise yourself, telling you it was your fault when she neglected her responsibilities. And when you would get upset she would play the victim, crying ‘woe is me’ because you were so ungrateful to the person who raised you after you drove her husband out.

“You know it’s your fault right?” she had snapped at you one night at dinner. There was a graded paper, a B written on the top of it.

“What?”

“You’re the reason he left me. He just couldn’t stand you. You’re the reason why he left and why I’m so miserable now.”

You had felt tears in your eyes.

“Tears, really? Tears aren't going to change the fact that MY husband LEFT.”

Her husband, not your father.

No, you knew better now to know that what she had done and said was wrong. But that didn’t make you forget. It didn’t make it any easier for you.

You went to college, saved up as much as you could, and gave tight-lipped smiles when people asked why you didn’t go home on weekends or vacations. You tried not to talk about her much, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about her.

You had stood at your college graduation, caps thrown and loud laughs and cheers echoing around. There were a bunch of people celebrating around you, taking photos, but you had stood on the outskirts. You had a small smile on your face for everyone else, but you couldn’t help but feel empty inside. You hadn’t made many friends, not close friends, but that was a good thing. You could take the photo so no one was left out.

Not so much of a text from her. She hadn’t come, she hadn’t called or anything.

In a twisted way, you were glad that she hadn’t. She couldn’t make a big deal about how you weren’t the top of your class or how you didn’t deserve to be. How you didn’t have a job set up to start the next week even though you already were planning on submitting your resumes. There wasn’t a way to please her, so it was almost better that she wasn’t there.

You had texted her after a few days and she made up some bullshit excuse that she had forgotten to put it on the calendar.

She liked your Instagram photo though. So thoughtful

You worried you would turn out the same way. Or that she had rubbed off on you in some way. You kept to yourself as much as you could, staying in, keeping your emotions to yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust people, maybe it was, but more so you were worried that you would seem like you were playing the victim.

You didn’t want to bother anyone or make anyone feel obligated to listen to you. You worried that behind your back they would complain about you being emotional or making everything about you.

You worried they would talk about you the same way you thought about your mother.

People are supposed to look to their parents to teach them what to be, yet you found yourself wanting to avoid everything your parents did to you. They taught you exactly who you didn’t want to be.

Your father left. Your mother hated you.

You didn’t share your opinions because you didn’t want to be told you were wrong. You didn’t want to force your ideas onto anyone. Not like what you said would make a difference anyway, not that it mattered in the first place.

You remembered all of the sentences you would start but not finish because no one had heard you. Trying to jump in a few times and eventually giving up when the conversation had moved onto a new subject. All the times people would interrupt or interject, making you feel like you didn’t have something to say that was worth hearing.

You thought it would get better when you got a job. But the pressure you put on yourself to do well in school was transferred to the job you had gotten. You still were afraid that people saw yourself as your mom used to and that you would never be good enough for anyone. You thought that achievements would make you feel fulfilled.

But if you didn’t believe in yourself, what were a few “job well done's” supposed to do?

It made it hard to get into a relationship. People say that “you have to love yourself before you can love someone else,” but that didn’t feel so true to you. It was more that you didn’t trust yourself to love someone else. You worried about hurting whoever you were with, and you told yourself that if you didn’t get close to anyone, you couldn’t hurt them.

But then you ran into him.

He was on a morning run and you were walking home from a night shift, both too tired to see each other coming. You because you had just finished a shift, him because he was running off the nightmare he had had the night previous. Both of you craving a sleep that seemed just out of reach.

You were very apologetic, as was he, both afraid that you had hurt the other. You avoided his eyes even though they were trained anywhere but your own, as he fiddled with his gloved hands and you scratched the back of your neck.

It was the first time either of you had seen someone as unsure as yourselves

You had parted ways with only each other's names. Bucky and y/n.

The two of you crossed paths a few times in the following weeks, eventually getting each other’s phone numbers and agreeing to meet for coffee rather than hoping the other left at the right time. Eventually, the subtle nervous tics each of you had died down as you got to know each other.

For the most part.

You still overly apologized for everything. If you were a few minutes late, if you spaced out...you took the blame for everything.

Traffic had been bad, a storm and an accident causing you to be 5 minutes late rather than 15 minutes early. You had run into the coffee shop, scanning the restaurant with wide eyes when you saw Bucky sitting there casually.

“I am so so so sorry, I should’ve left earlier, there was an accident, I’m so sorry I’m late -”

“Y/n, don’t worry about it,” he had said, a smile on his face and a slight flash of concern on his face. “Seriously, it’s a couple of minutes. It’s literally fine.”

“No, I’m really sorry, I should’ve known or called or something.”

“Relax. It’s totally fine, I promise,” he had said, concern a little more present on his face. “Are you okay though?”

“What? Yeah, I’m good. How have you been with everything?

You wouldn’t let him talk about you. The same way your mother never let you talk about yourself.

Don’t think about her.

He had started opening up to you but you still kept your personal life under lock and key. Your name, how work was, and your physical well-being was about as personal as you got. Even so, if work had been a shit show or you had to pull an all-nighter would go unspoken. He didn’t need the burden of your personal issues. Not when there was nothing he could do about it.

The past was the past, you just had to learn how to get over yourself.

You couldn’t change what your mother had said over a decade ago.

You worried if you talked about yourself at all then you would be making the situation about you. You worried you would project your anger or sadness onto him. He didn’t deserve that. Plus, it wasn’t like he would be able to do anything, right?

You promised yourself you wouldn’t let him get too close. That if he didn’t get close to you, you couldn’t hurt him.

But damn, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t start developing feelings for him. And from the way he had started acting, you thought maybe he was too.

The hugs that were ever so slightly too tight or when he smiled at you a little longer than normal. He had opened up to you about many things in his past, and from the way he talked about it, you could tell he hadn’t talked about it much with anyone else.

You found comfort in your friendship, the way he trusted you. You liked being there for him, and you were honored that he trusted you enough to open up to you. Yet it also made you uneasy that you would ruin it in some way or drive him out.

The same way your mom drove out your father.

Goddamn it don’t think about her.

The closer you got and the closer you and Bucky had gotten, the more nervous you were. That you would turn out like your mother. You were having a harder time keeping to yourself, keeping up the façade that everything was all bright in your world. You wanted to be a light for everyone.

But at some point, days turn to nights and the light gives way to the darkness.

And you weren’t sure how much time you had left before you cracked.

Bucky had started making small moves towards you, and you were trying your best to deflect them in efforts to not fall flat on your face for him. He came over Wednesday nights for a movie and take out with you, and what started as being on two opposite ends of the couch had moved to being next to each other to him having his arm wrapped around you. Sometimes you felt he was a little too close and you would either shift away or get up to grab another drink or ‘use the bathroom’.

When you came back you would make an attempt to sit a bit further away.

Sometimes when Bucky would say goodbye at the end of the night he would hug you. That was nothing new, you were both big on hugs, but lately, he had been hugging you longer or tighter, lingering a few moments longer than could be platonic. You had started ending the hugs earlier, giving him a small squeeze before pulling away.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with Bucky. It was that you were so scared that you would drive him away, leaving you as soon as you had started calling yourself his.

Which is what brought you here. Bucky had come over for another one of your movie nights and had his arm behind the couch rather than around you. An invitation for you to curl into his side, but he wanted you to make that choice. Eventually, you had found yourself curled up with him, his arm wrapped around you, and you could feel the tension.

You wanted to move away before you found yourself in too deep, but you couldn’t resist. It had been a long day and you found comfort with Bucky. Bucky turned his face slightly towards yours, kissing the side of your temple and you felt butterflies in your stomach. Your mind told you to shift away, to not let him get too close, but you found yourself turning your head towards Bucky and he leaned forward to kiss you gently.

After a moment you broke away, emotion taking over you. “I’m sorry, Bucky, I - I can’t do this,” you said, resting your forehead against his.

“Why not?” Bucky whispered, looking into your eyes.

Because I’ll hurt you.

I’ll disappoint you.

I’ll drive you away and I can’t lose the best thing that’s happened to me.

You sighed, standing up and moving away from Bucky. You couldn’t say those things to him out loud. Not without the entire story. And you weren’t ready to share all of that with him.

Bucky stood up with you, afraid he had just ruined the friendship or whatever relationship he had with you. “Y/n, wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You had already left the room and couldn’t really hear him over the sound of your thoughts.

This wasn’t supposed to happen

I wasn’t supposed to let this happen

How could I be so stupid?

You were feeling tears in your eyes and Bucky followed you, afraid of what he did. Your breathing was picking up and you had started mumbling some of these things to yourself.

“Y/n, what’s happening, what did I do?”

You shook your head “You didn’t do anything, but I need you to leave, please,” you said, trying to hide your emotions. You hated being like this.

“I’m not going anywhere y/n, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Get the fuck out of here Bucky! I don’t want your help!” you snapped suddenly, Bucky looking taken aback before your eyes widened.

“Oh god…”

You shook your head and started crying harder, stumbling over your words. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t mean to yell, I’m so sorry Bucky please don’t leave I'm so sorry.”

Bucky came forward and hugged you gently and you cried into his shirt. He whispered comforting words into your ear as you tried to breathe, embarrassed at how vulnerable you were being.

Bucky kept his breathing slow and even, trying to get you to match him. He had no idea what was happening but he knew he needed you to calm down before he asked. Whatever it was had to be something deep, and you weren’t in the space to talk about it right now.

He brought you over to sit on the corner of your bed, still hugging you as you cried. You were mumbling out apology after apology but Bucky wasn’t having any of it. He kept hugging you, telling you that he wasn’t going anywhere and that you were safe. He had never seen you so upset, or upset at all to begin with.

After you had calmed down a bit, Bucky asked you again what had happened. You shook your head, not knowing what to say.

“I’ve opened up about so many things to you, right?” he pulled back to look at you.

You nodded slightly.

“And you’ve never judged me for any of it.”

You shook your head this time.

“Then why can’t you let me do the same for you?”

You took a deep breath, fiddling with your hands. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” you said, not meeting his eyes.

Bucky drew his eyebrows together, still confused. “Y/n, you’ve been the nicest person I’ve ever met. How would you hurt me?”

You were already shaking your head. “No, see, that’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna be nice and sweet and...and I’m gonna fall in love with you, and you’re gonna fall in love with me. A-and then I’m gonna let you down over and over again and snap at you for things that aren’t your fault and...and you’ll get sick of it and leave and I’m going to hate myself for it, okay?”

“Hey, hey, slow down,” Bucky held your shoulders as they started shaking. You brought a hand to cover your mouth, Bucky hushing you again. “What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”

You took a shaky breath as you ran a hand over your face. “I’m just like her, Bucky. I told myself I would never let myself be like her…”

“Like who?” Bucky asked, blood already boiling at who made you feel like this.

Her.

You weren’t supposed to think about her.

You promised yourself.

“Y/n, stay with me here,” he said, guiding your face back to look at him. “Who?”

“My mother.”

Bucky looked at you for a moment. “What?”

“You know, mothers bring you into the world. They say a mother knows when something is wrong with their kid, that babies are put on their mother’s chest because the skin-to-skin contact starts the bonding process. They’re supposed to protect you, and love you, and take care of you. But then you start to get older and it’s your fault that you were born when you didn’t ask, or your dad left and it’s your fault before you even knew he was gone. All I wanted was to be told what to do and all she would do is tell me what I did wrong. I can’t be like her and the older I get the more scared I am that I’m going to hurt everyone the way that she hurt my father and me.”

You had started crying again as Bucky looked at you, both broken-hearted and furious that someone would make you feel this way. Not to mention it was your own mother.

You took another shaky breath. “I thought the world of her when I was younger. And she barely even gave me the time of day. I keep telling myself that I’m not what she thought of me, but what if I am?” you shook your head again. “And I am so scared that I’m just like her.”

“Y/n, look at me, I need you to look at me when I say this, okay?” he cupped your face with both hands, wiping away your tears with the pads of his thumbs as he looked into your eyes. “You are nothing like your mother.”

You let out a small sob. “You don’t know her.”

“I don’t need to,” he said firmly. “You are kind and gentle. You work hard and you make sure that everyone is taken care of before you even consider yourself. You aren’t going to scare me away or hurt me.” He wiped fresh tears from your eyes. “You are your own person, your mother has no say in who you get to be. Who you are. You are not your mother, and you never will be.” he said, still holding your gaze.

You held his gaze a little longer, knowing he believed what he was saying. You didn’t, not quite yet, but maybe if he believed in you, you could too. You nodded slightly, giving him the smallest of smiles. “Thank you.”

Bucky returned the small smile. “You know I love you, right?”

“I love you too,” you said, smiling.

You meant it, and you knew he did too. And maybe one day, you would love who you’d become too.

------------

tags: @babydaddy-buckybarnes @buckys-blue-eyes @buckys2thicc @broadwaybabe18 @peggycarter-steverogers @im-sick-of-failing @barnesplums @bucks-bunny @mardema @abitgryffindorky @freigeistundanderes @thatfangirl42 @strawberrimae @sup--ernova

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[brightlotusmoon]

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Diary Of A Mom:

Friends, please take a minute to read this. It’s important for this community and it’s really important to me.

Ableisim is a sneaky little sucker. Like every other kind of bigotry, it’s insidious. It’s woven into the fabric of just about everything we touch. We’re so used to seeing it - and contributing to it - that it is simply part of the background. If we’re not actively looking for it, we’ll likely pass it right by without a second glance.

It sucks when someone points out that we are being inadvertently ableist. It’s an awful feeling to hear that we are perpetuating any of the harm to which we would never consciously subscribe, so our first instinct when it’s pointed out is often defense and justification.

The other day, when I posted what I thought was a silly, fun photo of a package of bananas, it turned out to be far, far more. It turned out to be an opportunity to learn.

You may remember that the bananas were from South Korea, and that they were ingeniously packaged together, from very unripe green all the way to ready-to-eat yellow. They were encased in plastic and designed to allow the consumer to have one every day without the others rotting.

There was a chorus of comments on that post calling out the use of plastic where it was “totally unnecessary” and “ludicrously wasteful.” There were more deriding the “laziness” of anyone who would buy such a “ridiculous” product. A ton more pointing out how “simple” and “easy” it is to simply pull bunches apart ourselves, picking whichever ones we might want.

A number of commenters tried to explain why it’s far less wasteful than it might appear, why it may actually be necessary for those who can’t shop often - or do their own shopping at all - and / or who don’t have the dexterity to pull apart six different bunches of bananas to create the perfect grouping. Some explained why “just asking for help” isn’t the simple solution it may sound like it is, particularly for those for who are nonspeaking and / or communication is a challenge.

One even took the time to research it for us and shared some great information. (Thank you, Andria!) Paraphrasing what she wrote …

The bananas are treated with a preservative before they are sealed into plastic. The packaging then keeps them shelf stable for WEEKS so that people who cannot go to the market frequently or who do not have space to store large amounts of food can have access to fresh produce for a longer period of time.

She explained that they are often stocked in vending machines in assisted living facilities, for example.

“Ultimately,” she said, “they're largely only offered to people who need them like this for ACCESSIBILITY reasons!!!”

It also happens, she added, that South Korea is one of the world's best ranked nations in terms of recycling and trash management, so we can unclutch our pearls on that front, too.

Truthfully, when I posted the photo, I hadn’t thought of it from the perspective of accessibility. Rather, I’d thought of it as a great idea and a fabulous convenience. But one person’s convenience is another’s necessity. What may look to one like “laziness” may just be the other’s only access ramp.

I’m using that post as an example, but it’s just one in a series of rabbit holes we’ve wound our way down here in the last few days alone.

I humbly submit that if we’re ever going to change these patterns, to excavate and ultimately eliminate the ableism inherent in our thinking, we need to change our reactions.

We need to take a beat before we instinctually deride something as lazy or wasteful or rude or disrespectful. To examine our thought process and test it. And when we are called in by others, we desperately need to stop rationalizing and justifying and start listening. Stop explaining *ourselves* and start hearing *each other.*

Most of all, we need to stop professing that we’d never be purposefully ableist and start proving it, precisely by owning the moments in which we inadvertently are, and working to do better going forward. (Me wholeheartedly included.)

Thanks for reading, and thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for being here.

-

[starlitangels]

Lord and Lady - Part 2

This one’s POV swaps around a bunch. Who’s POV is it will be in italics at the beginning of their section I wasn’t intending for this story to get a Part 2 but I got obsessed with the concept and I think I’m gonna keep going with a Part 3 and at least 4. We’ll see about what happens beyond that. 3.6k words (Part 1)

—

—

Baaabe

“Who are they?” I asked, peering over Asher’s shoulder at the worn-down photo he occasionally slipped out of a pocket. It had always disappeared too fast for me to catch a glimpse of what was on it.

It was a small photo of four people. I recognized Asher and his beta, Milo. But the other two were strangers. One a tall, muscular man with short, straight brown hair and the most vibrant green eyes I’d ever seen. The other not quite as tall in a tank top, torn jeans, and combat boots with their exposed skin littered in too many scars to count.

“The wolves we lost to Quinn,” Asher growled, shoving the photo back in his pocket.

“David and Tank,” I said. He nodded. “Your alpha.” Another tight nod. “I’m sorry.”

Asher growled and jumped off the couch like I’d struck him. “What’s there to be sorry for? The Imperium takes and takes and takes and gives nothing back. We’ve all lost people to it.”

“I’m sorry because I know how it feels!” I retorted sharply. Loudly. Leaping off the couch myself to stand toe-to-toe with him. “You lost your best friend who was also your alpha—I lost both my younger siblings! You’re not the only one in this room who’s lost family, Asher!”

He went rigid. “What?” His voice had gone soft.

Around a clenched jaw, I explained, “Both of my siblings fell prey to Mass-Maker vampires. My younger brother was jumped in the street. My baby sister went to a new dentist who was a Mass-Maker in disguise. I haven’t seen them in years. Don’t even know if they’re still alive.” I closed my eyes and shook my head. “If they are, I don’t know if seeing them again would even be safe for me. No powers.” I met Asher’s sharp amber gaze. “You’re right. The Imperium takes and takes with no return. It’s our time to take from them.”

He stared at me.

Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock! Knuckles echoed off the door to Asher’s suite. He slid around me fluidly and went to answer it. He bent to look through the peephole.

“Oh. It’s you,” he said flatly as he opened the door. “What do you want?”

Xavier stood there, hands in his pockets. The symbol of the Imperium pinned to his shirt next to the house crest of Lord Kyne.

“I told you I’d come get you both for a proper meeting with Lord Kyne and Lady Tanner today,” Xavier said.

“Well, you can tell Lord Kyne and Lady Tanner that they are more than welcome to kiss my—”

“Ash,” I interrupted. “Maybe don’t piss off a pair of Seers?”

“Listen to the human, alpha,” Xavier said. “They’re right.” He smirked. “Not that I’m surprised. Humans without magic always know when to submit.”

Asher snarled. “I’m an alpha. I don’t submit.”

“Asher,” I warned.

He clenched his jaw. “Fine. We’ll finish getting ready.”

“You can wait in the other suite if you want,” I said, indicating to Xavier the door that led to my suite. He gave me a polite nod and followed my pointing into the other suite. He shut the door behind him, giving us privacy.

“I’m going to go put my nicer shirt on,” Asher said, stomping toward the bedroom of his suite. I gave him a thumbs-up. The door slammed shut behind him. I stood alone in the living room of Asher’s suite, rocking up onto the balls of my feet and back down again, debating what to do. Wait for Asher to change and then swap him so I could put my nicer clothing on in the privacy of the bedroom, or just change out here in the living room. All of my bags were here. On the flight here, he’d made it very clear to me that we needed to stick close together for our own safety.

I ultimately decided just to strip off the T-shirt I’d had on and switch it for a polo shirt while standing in the living room. It didn’t take long. Nor did fixing up the last little bits of my appearance to at least be presentable for high-ranking members of the Imperium.

Asher emerged from his bedroom, hair damp and a different shirt on. He’d probably run his head under the sink to get his warm black curls under control.

“Do I even dare ask how I look?” he grumbled.

I shrugged. “I think you look nice.”

“High praise.”

“Cut the sarcasm. I’m trying to help,” I snapped.

He gave me a look. A few weeks ago I never would have dared raise my voice or use a sharp tone with him. But he didn’t reprimand me or try to put me in my place. There was almost a wry amusement in the twist of his mouth. “Fine,” he muttered. “Are you ready? I’m sure we don’t want to keep the lord and lady waiting.” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on me.

I smiled. “I’m ready.”

Asher stalked over to the door to my suite and knocked on it. “Let’s go,” he said.

Xavier appeared within moments. “Outstanding. Follow me. We have a car this time.”

“Greeeaaat,” Asher drawled.

—

Angel

I sat, curled up on the bed, staring blankly at the wall. I’d turned the TV off before Damien’s rally had even started. I picked at my nails. He wouldn’t even notice if I told him he’d done a great job with his speech and hadn’t watched it.

I knew Damien fought hard to be where he was. I knew he kept fighting hard for he and I to even keep being together in a world that would always see me as less than even a second-rate citizen. In a world flooded to the brim with magic, someone like me—someone with none—was barely even viewed as human. Damien and I had become friends by chance as children. My parents had worked for his mother, Sofia, when she was Queen-Imperial, and we’d quite literally bumped into each other. We were five. I’d been at the Imperial palace with my parents in the childcare room. I snuck out. Ran into Damien. And I’d snuck around the palace ever since. Stealing him from lessons and goofing off.

We were in love, once. As we got older, those childhood feelings of friendship had blossomed into something deeper. I loved him so dearly.

But that was gone. I still loved him, and I probably always would. But the closeness—the emotional vulnerability and intimacy we’d shared—it had vanished the moment Damien’s mother passed away. He wasn’t the passionate, kind, sweet boy I’d grown up teasing. He’d turned into a tyrannical, iron-fisted man who wouldn’t let me go. Wouldn’t let me budge an inch.

My phone started ringing, jarring me from the ever-darkening thought spiral I’d found myself in more and more often lately.

I recognized the name that came up from the contacts list in my phone. Not my personal list, of course, but Damien had put a special folder of contacts in my phone of everyone in the Imperial government so that I would know when to answer, and when not to.

The contact name came up in red. Don’t answer the red names, Damien had said.

I snatched my phone off the bed Damien and I shared—so cold, even with a Fire Elemental sleeping just beside me every night—and slid the answer option.

“Lord Kyne. A pleasure to hear from you. How may I help you?”

—

Everly

Morgan chuckled, running a hand up and down my half-exposed thigh. “A pleasure to hear from you as well, Your Grace. It’s been too long, truly.”

I heard the king’s consort’s voice vaguely on the other end of the call, but couldn’t make out any words.

A smile grew on Morgan’s face. “Indeed. Listen, Your Grace, how do you feel about a little trip up north? A visit to me and Everly, as it were?” He paused, listening to Damien’s consort. He gave me a look with a mischievous smirk. “Oh, you don’t think Damien will let you leave?” He started to laugh. “I’m sorry. It’s nothing, Your Grace. But... I think you’ll find Damien can do nothing to stop you, this time.” He paused briefly. “Because he can do nothing to stop me. I’m the only person in this government who scares him. I can do... Whatever. I. Want,” he continued flippantly. “And Damien can’t do a damn thing to stop me. Even if he could, he wouldn’t. If I say I want you to come up north whether he likes it or not, I think you’ll find he’ll let you.”

I leaned a little closer to his head to hear the consort say, “I think you underestimate how possessive he is.”

Morgan met my eyes, but stared right through me, his irises glowing a slight shade of violet. His smiled widened.

“No, my suzerain,” he replied with a chuckle. “No, I don’t think I do.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Have you forgotten I’m a Seer, Your Grace?” He kept laughing. “I know exactly which pressure point to push to get him to let you go for a few days.”

The consort was silent for several long moments, during which Morgan gave me a wink and continued stroking my leg.

“Get me out of here,” they said.”

Morgan started to laugh in earnest. “Oh, with pleasure, my suzerain,” he replied. “We’ll see you in a couple hours, then.”

“See you then.”

Morgan hung up the phone, still grinning, and slid it into his inner jacket pocket. He turned his gaze on me. “We’re going to have more company, gumdrop,” he said.

I smiled. “Delightful. It’s ben a while since we hosted guests properly.”

“Speaking of...” Morgan said quietly as a pair of auras came into range on the other side of the closed door.

A knock echoed off the wood. I slid off Morgan’s lap and back into my own chair. “Enter, Xavier,” I called.

The door opened. There was Xavier with the shifter alpha—Asher, I think his name was—and the unempowered he was in love with. But hadn’t admitted it yet. The human felt the same but also had said nothing to him.

“Good morning,” Morgan greeted with that tricky smirk of his. The one that showed everyone he was always up to something. Always had a string to pull and an angle to play. The smirk that showed everything was a game to him, and he intended to win.

Asher glared at the table between us and them in the door. “What’s all this?” he growled.

Morgan’s arm swept the spread as though the answer should have been obvious. “Breakfast,” he replied.

Xavier indicated for Asher and the human to come in. They preceded him and then he stood at attention before the closed door. Relaxed, but at attention. Asher and the human sat across the table from me and Morgan.

“Nice to see you minding your own personal space,” Asher drawled to me.

“Asher!” the human warned, looking terrified.

Their expression morphed to one of confusion as I started laughing. “Oh, this one is funny, darling,” I said to Morgan before turning my attention back to Asher. “Why, if you weren’t an alpha, Asher, I’d have half a mind to keep you. Hire you on as one of our security team.” I rested my cheek on the heel of my palm. “I do love a good laugh.”

“Now now, my dear,” Morgan said, his hand under the table sliding possessively high up my leg. “I’m sure Asher here has plenty of business to attend to back in Dahlia once these two return home.”

“I knooow. But apart from Xavier none of the rest of the security team has any sense of humor.” I lounged back dramatically on my chair.

“I don’t think he meant it as a joke,” the human informed me under their breath

“I know,” I repeated, giving both of them a smirk. I gestured to the table. “Now can we eat? I’m famished.”

Morgan chuckled. “Yes. Please. Let’s eat. Dish up.”

At that moment, his phone started to ring. I groaned as he pulled it out of his suit coat pocket. “Darling, please. Not at breakfast.”

Morgan was already getting out of his seat, moving to answer the phone. “It’s Damien, gumdrop. I must answer it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Make him wait. It’s more fun that way.”

“Would that I could. But it’s time to get the ball rolling.” He kissed my hairline. “Be back in a minute.” He answered the phone with a, “Morgan Kyne,” and dodged out of the doorway Xavier had cleared for him. The door shut.

I sighed and crossed my legs dramatically, leaning back. “Ugh. If the consort wasn’t arriving, he’d be getting hell from me for abandoning me at the breakfast table,” I muttered.

Asher and the human exchanged a look.

The unempowered human leaned forward, folding their arms on the table. “Why do you pretend to be little more than a trophy wife even though you’re his most trusted lieutenant?” they asked, seeming genuinely curious. “Everyone knows you’re ruthless and vicious—yet you act like... I don’t know...—like you want to be treated more like an object than a person.”

A smile formed on my mouth. “Ohhh, my dear, unempowered friend. I assure you, I am no wife, trophy or otherwise. But when you’re in the position I’m in, you find safety in pretending to be less than you are. In every aspect of who you are.” Including pretending to be an Illusory, I added silently. “Plus, then everyone underestimates you. No one who walked through the door to the reception chamber actually believes my reputation as Lord Kyne’s merciless lieutenant when they see me in his lap or on the arm of his chair in a dress that barely covers my modesty. All they see is an airheaded Illusory who’s just there to giggle and fawn over Morgan. And while he’s definitely a man worth fawning over, that’s not why I stand by his side for every meeting.”

“You’re a Seer too,” Asher said. I glanced over his head at Xavier, who was looking blankly into the middle distance, quietly thanking the Sovereigns that he already knew.

I adjusted my sitting position to meet Asher’s hard amber gaze with a straightened spine and smiled. “Clever wolf,” I crooned. “Told you you’d figure it out.”

Asher rolled his eyes. “Why are you and Lord Kyne still wasting time?”

“Oh, I assure you, we’re not. We got cogs in the machine moving the moment you left our audience chamber yesterday afternoon. The consort is arriving, Morgan has Damien on the phone—ah, sorry, the King-Imperial—and we are well on the way to putting some pressure on him.”

“You’re on a first-name basis with the King-Imperial?” Asher asked sarcastically.

“No one is, alpha,” I said. “But you’ll find that Morgan and I tend to be... brash. Dangerous. We can get away with it, when it comes to Damien.” I laughed. “He’s too scared of us to tell us off. As he should be. I mean, there’s only so much he can do when the only two Seers Obscurae in existence happen to be as... close as Morgan and I.”

“Wait—you’re Obscura too? How is it possible for there to be two in one lifetime?” Asher demanded.

“Pure dumb luck. Or unluck. Depends on your viewpoint.”

“Well. Certainly explains a lot about your and Lord Kyne’s personalities, given most Seers are dour, detached people,” Asher said.

The unempowered human raised a hand. “Hang on. Unempowered magic curriculum only covers basics. What’s a Seer Obscura?”

“I can See all futures but my own,” I explained. “Well, actually, my own, Morgan’s, and any other Obscura of other magical races I bump into. It’s rare to be Obscura—a person whose magic blocks them from being Seen in the time stream. The chance of an Obscura—already a rare phenomenon— to also be a Seer is astronomically small. Seers are the rarest magical race. The only other Seer Obscura that I.D.L.E. has on record lived two hundred years ago. The very chance of Morgan and I existing as we do in the same lifetime at nearly the same age? It should be damn near impossible.”

“... Oh.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

Morgan came back in. “He agreed, gumdrop,” he announced, kissing my hairline again.

I beamed. “Really?”

“Well, I talked him into a corner. He realized he really had no choice.”

I laughed low in my throat. “Outstanding!” I raised a hand to catch Xavier’s attention. He looked to me immediately. “Tell Wexler to get our finest guest room prepared. We’re going to have a very important guest.”

“Yes, my lady.” Xavier bowed and rushed from the room.

“Mm. He is a good follower, isn’t he?” I mused to Morgan.

“Indeed. You do know how to pick them, my dear.” He set a hand on my knee and patted it. I chuckled. “Now,” he continued, “I’m famished. Let’s eat.”

—

Angel

I left the Imperial royal compound before Damien got back from some other... something. Meeting. Rally. There was always this, that, or the other thing keeping him busy. Keeping him away. I could barely remember the last time we’d actually talked for more than just a few minutes before going to sleep. I barely talked to anyone, anymore. I left a note on his pillow before I left our bedroom with a packed bag.

I love you. I’ll be back soon. ~Me

Slinging my backpack over my shoulder—my bigger suitcase had already been taken to the car—I slipped out of our bedroom without looking back.

“Your Grace,” the chauffeur sad as he opened the car door.

“Thank you, Dallas,” I said, ducking into the car.

“Of course.” He shut the door behind me.

Dallas was humanborn, and one of the only staff members I could always count on to be kind to me. A Freelancer who’d hid his powers for years—like a lot of them, if I understood correctly. And he treated me with respect and equality no matter what. He’d told me once that I reminded him of his family back home that the Imperium had torn him away from. I’d never breathed a word of that conversation to another soul, and I never would.

“Excited for the flight up north?” Dallas asked as he got into the driver’s seat and shut the door behind him.

“Excited to get out of the palace for a few days,” I muttered under my breath. I heard him chuckle.

“I don’t blame you. You really should engage more with His Majesty in public. Let him show you off at rallies and such.”

I scoffed so hard I hurt my throat. The car pulled out the garage and started heading for the private airstrip. “He’d never go for something like that,” I said.

“Well... you don’t know that for sure.”

“Yes, I do, actually.”

“If you say so.”

“Trust me, Dallas, the only reason he’s letting me leave the palace for this trip is because Lord Kyne and Lady Tanner essentially forced his hand and made him let me.”

“Alright, Your Grace.” He sounded like he didn’t believe me.

Dallas was a good man, but one whose belief in the equity of unempowered and empowered people sometimes blinded him to the reality of our nation. I didn’t push him on it.

I rolled up the divider between the front and back seats and played on my phone for the rest of the drive to the airstrip.

—

Baaabe

“When Kyne and Lady Tanner were talking about ‘the consort arriving’... they didn’t mean... that consort, did they?” I asked.

Asher shrugged. “Hell if I know,” he said.

“The King-Imperial’s consort hasn’t left Dahlia in years. Everyone knows he doesn’t let them leave.”

“Ye-up.”

“Does Kyne have that kind of sway? That he can make the King-Imperial let his consort leave the capital?

“Ye-up.” Asher nodded.

“So why are both of them humoring us if they have all this power?”

“They’re playing a power game with the King-Imperial. Showing him that he can’t touch them, I imagine. And...” Asher swore under his breath. “I guess he can’t. Two Seers who are Obsured from the time stream and have no love for the Imperium. Two... no wonder the King-Imperial is scared of them.” He shook his head and pushed a hand through his shaggy hair as he paced the suite. “I guess we gotta get fancied up for meeting the consort tonight.”

I pulled the plastic covering protecting the clothes Lady Tanner had instructed us to wear open. “Guess so,” I remarked.

Asher looked at the suit in the covering meant for him. There was disgust in the way his lip drew up over his teeth like he was going to snarl. “This is not a dinner I’m looking forward to. I hate wearing clothes like this.”

“Because they’re fancy?”

“Because they’re restrictive, and not conducive to shifting,” he corrected.

“Well... all we can do is survive tonight.”

“We can try.”

“Hey.” I set a hand gently on Asher’s arm. “It’ll be okay. We’re making progress, right?”

Hard amber stared down at me. Before the look softened a bit. “I guess so.”

“Get changed. I’ll do the same. We don’t want to jeopardize our shot of saving our world.”

“Guess not.” Asher snatched the hanger with the suit on it and stalked to his bedroom, shutting the door louder than necessary. I picked up the outfit that had been provided for me, sighed, and went back to my own suite to change.

—

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