#and no matter how hard you try to be there for other folks ultimately it is just you against it all

[payattentionbeastonished]

I think the hardest part about being in a crash and living by yourself is knowing that there is actually no one to look after you. No one will check in on you. It’s just you and your sad ill self stuck in bed against the world.

[velvetsainz]

summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] corsica continues to inspire, even when away from the heat of the sun. part of the hot monaco nights series.

word count: 2.8k

content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), a lil hint of plot, use of explicit language, unprotected sex (plan appropriately, folks), p in v, creampie, oral (f!receiving), google-translated french (i cannot and will not be stopped), em dashes strike back, once again time is a social construct

a/n: more horny fuckers in corsica (crowd cheers)! longest one yet!! struggled getting this written but ultimately happy with how it turned out, so hopefully y'all are, too. my biggest thanks as always to @lecrep @leclerc-hs @multiseb21 for their support & encouragement 🤍 enjoy, bbys! xx

As always, this was Charles's fault.

Well, kinda.

Okay, not at all, but, like, that’s beside the point.

What the point actually was that this was your favorite way to have him.

His hands gripped tightly into the plush of your hips, thumbs guiding the way your pelvis lazily drew patterns.  His cock was hard and hot and buried deep inside you, and the Monégasque was fighting all of his instincts not to roll the two of you over so he could find a way to sate the burning heat in his own core.

“Chérie,” he whined, hazel eyes still heavy-lidded as he’d only awoken a short while before.  Other parts of him had been awake for much longer, though, given the way he’d been grinding his cock against your ass before you decided to take matters into your own hands.

“Relax, baby,” you chided with a heavy sigh, one hand on his toned chest while the other toyed with your pearl.  “You’re on holiday—enjoy it.  We don’t have anywhere to be.”

“But this is torture, mon cœur,” the man groaned, hands trying to urge you faster.  Still, you resisted and shot him a devilish look.

“This,” you rolled your hips tightly and flexed your walls around his throbbing member, “is nothing.  I can make it torture if you’d prefer that, though, hm?”

He let out a frustrated sound through his nose, a groan stifled in his throat.  His hands traced over the tanned expanse of your thighs before trailing to the small of your back under the faded oversized shirt of his you’d donned after he’d fucked you within an inch of your life the night before.

“At least let me kiss you, hm? Donne-moi quelque chose, s'il te plaît,” Charles nearly begged, the French tumbling from his lips as you ground yourself in slow, lazy circles.  He needed more—more friction, more skin, more touch, anything.  He wasn’t one to beg, usually, but he was more than willing in this instance.

“So needy,” you teased, but the way his hands tangled in your hair and his tongue slid against your own had your hips bucking in such a way that gave away your hand; you had a straight flush but his was royal.  A choked sound left the back of your throat as you moved your hips quicker, one of the hands in your hair moving to grab the flesh of your ass to urge you on.

As you pulled away for a moment, Charles didn’t waste his chance and used his other hand to pull back the hem of the t-shirt you wore and latch his plump lips to one of your pert nipples in a way that made your toes curl and your eyes close tight as stars sparked.

“Fuck,” you swore, “I–”

“So needy,” he teased like an absolute little shit before you swatted at his head and he took his golden opportunity.

Banding an arm around your back, the driver pulled you tight to his chest and planted his feet into the bed before driving his hips up into your own in a way that made your insides feel like molten lava. With a filthy cry, you grabbed tight to the sheets on either side of your boyfriend as he set the new pace.

“Je pensais que je te l'avais enlevé hier soir,” he grunted in your ear as he speared against something blindingly delicious within you, and his hand palmed at your ass with your tits pressed tight against his chest.  You knew it was good for him, too, when he started slipping into Italian, blurring the lines between the languages he knew so well until they were practically an unintelligible mess.

“Charles–I’m gonna—ah!,” you started to warn as the edges of your vision blurred and the heat in the pit of your core started seeping through the cracks in your bones.

“Je sais, minette,” he grit as he felt your cunt spasm tightly around him, his own orgasm careening towards him at a blinding speed like an avalanche in the Dolomites.  “Putain–,” he swore as his hips bucked spasmodically into you, pressing into the wet velvet heat as far as your core would allow as every part of him chased whatever would bring him closer to his completion.

You felt him shudder beneath you as his hands held you tight against him; he wanted to feel all of you, and you certainly were in no place to complain as your own orgasm started to recede.  You basked in the warmth of one another, the way your hips slotted so perfectly against his, how your hearts pounded against each other’s chests.

Part of you didn’t want to break the blissful quiet of the post-orgasm glow, but your pride had other qualms.  “You’re a sore loser, you know that?,” you teased as you rolled partway off your partner, hissing as you lost the comfortable stretch of his cock inside of you.

Chuckling softly, he shrugged as he turned his head to the side to see your heavy eyes.  “I have no idea what you are talking about—I was simply exercising a-a new strategy!”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.  “You are unbelievable, Leclerc.”

“Unbelieve...ably good?,” he asked with a stupid grin that made you roll your eyes once more before you leaned in to kiss him once again.

“Unfortunately yes–”

“Say no more!,” he beamed before shooting out of bed, reinvigorated.  He disappeared for a few moments, your eyes closing as sleep tempted you once more.

You heard him pad back in and around to the side of the bed you’d rolled to, something warm and wet touching the inside of your thigh.  Gently, he cleaned you with a warm washcloth before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Sleepyhead,” he teased gently as you popped your eyes open for just a moment to peek at him as he went about the room, tidying up from the night before.  You two had gotten a bit…wild, to put it mildly.

“I resemble that remark,” you quipped, eyes closed once more as you raised a finger in the air.  Soon enough, though, you were drifting back off to sleep, only to wake several hours later in the late afternoon.

There was a note on top of your phone on the bedside table, scribbled in his surprisingly neat half-print, half-cursive handwriting.  “Out for a run,” it read, a little heart and smiley face with its tongue sticking out accompanying it.  Unsure when he’d be back, you finally convinced yourself to slip out of bed and into a much-needed shower.  You smelled like a mix of salt and chlorine and citrus—heaven, to Charles, but the grit of it was a bit much to take.  Besides, you needed to wash your hair as the two of you had plans for the evening, and your hair had become a mess over the past few days.

Stripping out of the shirt you’d haphazardly thrown on the night before, you ducked under the warm spray of the shower once you’d managed to settle on a half-decent playlist.  Humming to yourself, you didn’t hear Charles come back as you neared the end of your shower.

Sitting on the bench at the end of the unmade bed, he watched you through the half-fogged glass of the shower as the scent of your soap drifted through the air and the warmth of the steam lingered at the threshold between the two rooms.  He shouldn’t want you as badly as he does, but there’s something about your connection that was more intoxicating than any alcohol or drug could ever try to rival.  Everything about you drew him in, pulled him closer and closer like he was caught in a whirlpool; you’d bewitched him—mind, body, and soul—and under no circumstance did he want the spell to be broken.

You caught sight of him as you stepped out and began toweling off, asking, “Good run?”

He nodded as he stood, finally kicking off his shoes and shucking himself out of his shorts and briefs.  “Not as good as this morning,” he wrinkled his nose at the qualifier, pecking your lips before restarting the shower so he, too, could join you in your newfound cleanliness.  “Good shower?”

“Not as good as this morning,” you conceded in teasing as you watched him slip under the water with a laugh.

As he showered, you went to work at the vanity, going through your neglected skincare routine and brushing the tangles from your freshly washed hair.  By the time it was wrapped in a towel and on its way to drying, Charles had finished his own shower and was drying off with the lone clean towel you’d left him (you desperately needed to do some laundry tomorrow).

Towel wrapped around his waist, he took up his seat on the bench once more, scrolling aimlessly on his phone to distract himself from how you leaned over the vanity as you carefully applied your makeup.  You’d abandoned the towel that had been around your body, tired of having to fight the damn thing to stay secured every two minutes.  Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you naked before.

Charles, of course, did not mind this, but it certainly made it difficult to keep his focus on anywhere except the peek of your slit between your thighs and the curve of your tits every time you lent closer to the mirror in inspection.  It was dizzying, the way the blood rushed from his head to his…other head just at the mere sight of you.

Twitter half-held his attention for another five minutes, but that was all he could muster before he was stalking back to you and on his knees no less.  With a start and a gasp, you felt the heat of his tongue where you loved it most, eyes rolling back before you could catch yourself.  He hummed in response to the pitiful keening that left your lips.

“You are—fuck,” you started, caught off guard by the earnest press of Charles's thumb against your clit, “insatiable.  How do…how?” You had no idea where he pulled the stamina from, but you certainly weren’t complaining nor upset.

Stubbled open-mouth kisses pressed their way up your spine until he was standing behind you, caging you in with a hand on the vanity counter on either side of your hips.  “Quelque chose sur vous,” he breathed into the nape of your neck before planting a searing kiss there.  “I don’t know,” he shrugged with a groan as he rested his brow against your shoulder.

“Like I said earlier,” you teased softly as you turned in his arms, in the small cage he made with his arms against the countertop, “so needy.” The smell of his soap was still strong, but there was also something uniquely Charles, something you yourself could never get enough of.

He laughed at that, and you could feel the rumble of it where your abdomens met.  “Maybe,” he relented with a devilish twinkle in his eye, “but something tells me you are just as–”

You tutted, pressing a finger to his lips. “Don’t you dare finish that thought. At this rate we’ll never make it out tonight if you keep trying to fuck me,” you warned with a tilt of your head.

“But–”

“No buts.”

“Not even this one?,” he smirked, thinking himself something of a genius as the little shit fully palmed each cheek and pulled you in closer to press tightly against his toned body.

“Especially not that one!,” you swatted at his hands before he started running away from you and your faux-outrage, leaving you alone in the bathroom to finish getting ready.

An hour later he peeked his head in once more, dressed in a linen outfit perfect for a hot, humid, night on the Mediterranean. (Of course, this was something you’d helped him pick because Lord knows this man couldn’t be left to his own devices when it came to style; he had the style sense of a 14-year-old boy, and yet you loved him despite it—you were truly a saint.)  “Almost ready?,” he asked, eyes raking over the mid-length sleeveless silk dress you’d chosen, hair pulled into a messy French twist with simple gold accessories.  It wasn’t until he saw the slit clear up the middle of your thigh that he let out an exasperated sigh.  He was in for a long night.

Turns out, it wasn’t the worst thing ever.  Because by the time you’d made it back to the villa, you were both half-drunk on sangria and unable to keep your hands off one another…or, at least, more so than usual.

You’d gone to dinner and afterward, a small club where, in the darkened corner away from the flash of colored lights and drunken laughter of other revelers, you two made out like you were teenagers again.  He whispered naughty things in your ear, hot insistent hands slipping under your dress to grasp at the skin he so badly wanted to be pressed against—especially with how you’d toyed with him all night.  If you thought you were going to get away with grinding your ass against him, trailing the toe of your sandal up his legs during dinner, and whining in his ear with no shame…you had another thing coming.

With you bent over the back of the sofa, Charles shoved your dress over your hips where he chuckled in disbelief.  You smiled a Cheshire grin, knowing what he’d finally discovered for himself: you weren’t wearing any panties.

“You dirty girl,” he tsked in your ear as he pulled your back flush with his front, a strong arm around your middle in a way that was reminiscent of your midday fuck.  His hand smoothed over the plane of your belly and dipped into the sacred heat of your cunt to draw a whimper from your lips that he’d been desperate to hear all evening.  “So needy,” he teased as he ground his hard length against the curve of your ass and into the small of your back.

“Please–,” you pleaded with him, your sangria-addled mind having one desire and one desire, alone.

“Ne t'inquiète pas, chérie,” he hushed you as you bent back over and started arching your back for him: you were going to make this an offer he couldn’t refuse.  Groaning at the sight, he pressed the tip of his cock against your soaked entrance before slotting his pelvis against your own in one fell press of his hips.

He cursed, dropping his head down to rest against the space between your shoulder blades.  You wiggled your hips in desperation, needing friction—needing anything—to ease the ache between your legs. Hissing at the sensation, Charles nipped at the skin over your spine before soothing it with his tongue.  “Je sais, minette,” he groaned before starting a truly punishing rhythm with each stroke.  His hands gripped tight at your hips, only stopping for a moment to help you hitch one of your legs onto the back of the couch you were bent over which allowed his cock to grind against something deep within you.

You were hurtling fast and hard to your climax, and you could tell your partner wasn’t far behind with how his praises and curses tumbled from his lips in equal measure. The Monégasque was a talker in bed, you’d come to learn, but even more so now that his mind’s filter had been soaked in shitty sangria.

“So close–Charles, pl-please,” you whined pitifully before a hand entwined in your now-ruined bun and tugged, wrenching a choked gasp from your throat. You babbled half-incoherently as he held you against him once more and his other hand snaked around the front of your hip to rub tight circles over your pearl with that perfect rasp of much-needed friction.

“Jouis pour moi, chérie,” he gritted in your ear, and you didn’t need to be told twice as waves of pleasure crashed over your body.  Warmth spread from your core to the tips of your toes, breath caught in your throat as you rode the earliest waves.  Your hips bucked insistently against him, his own losing their rhythm at the feeling of you clenching so tightly around him and pulling him headfirst into a blinding high of his own.

With a choked gasp and your name on his lips, you felt as he came inside you just moments after your own orgasm. Panting and positively fucked out, you dropped down over the couch once more, slowly but surely floating back down into your body. Charles draped over you in exhaustion, catching his own breath as one of his hands found yours and traced over it mindlessly with gentle fingers.

“I was wondering how long it’d take you to figure out I wasn’t wearing any underwear,” you pondered aloud like the thought of your bare cunt under that dress hadn’t just resulted in the fuck of your life.  You were a tease—and an unabashed one, at that.

“Mon Dieu, chérie.”

final note: one more part for our stay in corsica before we depart the island! hoping you guys will enjoy it! 🤍 as always, you can follow my writing sideblog @velvetsainz-writes where i reblog inspo & recs!

[multiplicity-positivity]

Here’s some positivity for systems whose headmates have vastly differing opinions!

It is a common occurrence for many systems for members to sometimes fight, clash, or disagree. Thought it may make system life challenging sometimes, there is nothing wrong with having views and ideas that vary across your collective. If your system has members with vastly differing opinions, this post is for you!

💫 Shoutout to systems who have always struggled with chronic indecision!

🫂 Shoutout to systems who struggle to accomplish or try new things due to headmates having difficulties coming to a consensus!

💕 Shoutout to headmates who have become passive or aren’t able to voice their own opinions due to fear of being overruled by the rest of their system!

💫 Shoutout to systems who want to develop a collective identity, but can’t due to strong individual differences between headmates!

🫂 Shoutout to systems whose differing opinions make it difficult for them to practice new skills or hobbies!

💕 Shoutout to systems who have a sense of dread about their future due to the stark differences between headmates!

💫 Shoutout to systems whose headmates have differing political views or moral values which make their lives complicated!

🫂 Shoutout to systems who are learning to facilitate in-system discussions to better work through their differences!

💕 Shoutout to systems who try to respect and embrace each other’s differing views, opinions, and ideas!

💫 Shoutout to systems whose differing opinions among headmates causes their whole collective a great deal of confusion, distress, or impairment!

🫂 Shoutout to systems whose chronic indecision causes them to need accommodations like more time to deliberate, extra or combined options, or a caregiver who can help them make choices!

💕 Shoutout to headmates who are learning how to compromise when different system members want different things!

Folks, please know that indecision and vastly differing views, ideas, and opinions often comes with the territory of plurality. You’re not wrong or bad for having opinions that differ from the majority of your system. You’re not rude, broken, or inconsiderate if arguments and difficulties deciding often cause dysfunction in your collective. You matter, your system matters, and your voices and opinions deserve to be heard and expressed just the way they are!

Our hearts go out to you as a fellow system whose indecision and differing opinions can be overwhelming and debilitating. We hope that learning to work together and take each others’ ideas into account will become easier for your system with time and practice. Please do your best to treat yourself and your system with compassion, and don’t be too hard on yourselves if your differing views causes complications to arise in your lives. We hope you all will be able to breathe, take your time, and ultimately reach conclusions that work well for everyone. Know that we care about y’all and we’re wishing y’all the very best in all that you do!

[utilitycaster]

Hi there! Do you think the Bells - and in particular Ashton's focus and indist a bit too hard on the fact that Aeor orb vision will completely change people's perceptions of gods? I tend to think that lot of people who somewhat know history are aware of the fact that Primes and Betrayers joined hands to destroy the city. As for common folk - it would be at also hard to believe that for example they would completely denounce Wildmother who is nature (all good and all bad. Bad as in destructive). I can imagine some folks reaction to this would be to feel scared, but then again. Those are Gods we speak about, not your friendly neighbors. What do you think?

So here's the thing: I've felt some of the depictions of what the average person knows this campaign have been...inconsistent isn't the right word, because, for example, the norm in the Menagerie Coast might not be the norm in Gelvaan and certainly isn't the norm in central Issylra, but also the party not recognizing the symbol of Asmodeus (for example) is something that's always struck me as like. people in the United States not knowing what a crucifix is. Like yeah those people exist - I've met very religious Jews in the US who don't know what day Christmas is other than "generally in late December" - but either we never met many of those people in Campaigns 1 and 2 and met them all in Campaign 3, or there's been some retconning (which...that's a complex discussion as to canonicity between campaigns, since the answer is, ultimately, it depends on the specifics and the magnitude and the source of that information, ie, if High Bearer Vord's creation myth is wrong that's valid because he's providing a specific perspective with plenty of bias, or if orcs were NOT created during the Calamity that's valid because unfortunately myths born of stereotype and bigotry are extremely common; but if Matt's drastically changing previously established truths of the world without in-world explanation, rather than just quietly dropping no longer relevant references as one-offs a la Ladueger, yeah that is bad storytelling and anyone who tells you it isn't is an idiot).

But actually that doesn't matter because here's just a truth about people: a whole lot of people in, for example, the United States in 2024, where 95% of adults have regular internet access, are fairly uninvested in much outside their basic day to day life, just, in general. This is going to be even more true in a world without that degree of information and interconnectedness. I think a lot of people are going to be like "ok and this thousand year old city being destroyed affects me how?" Not to get too cynical about it but think about someone whose experience with the gods is rather like what Laudna describes her youth as being: harvest festivals and wishing for rain. Like, if it's a good harvest this year, will they care?

I don't personally agree with this mentality irl, but groups of people on the whole are frequently resistant to change, do not want trouble, and want to be left alone. I think no shortage of people's attitudes will simply be "why is this motherfucker downloading the Downfall of Aeor Album to everyone's iPod when I am trying to eat breakfast." It won't even get to the point of "are the gods good or bad"; it will literally just be "who the fuck is broadcasting something? the MOON is fucked up? we have real problems?" Like, if people do not know the story of the fall of Aeor, someone being like HEY THE GODS CRASHED THIS CITY BECAUSE THEY HAD MADE A GOD-KILLING WEAPON is probably going to elicit a response of, again, "and I should care about this because? a fucking phoenix is strafing us, why are you doing a test of the emergency broadcast system?"

[bromcommie]

Oh boy, I'm gonna lose it. This is the third ad like this I'm seeing today. I don't know if that's actually indicative of just how widespread these are becoming or if the marketing is just very aggressive, but going off of the things I've seen people say both on here and other forums, I think it's fair to say that they're definitely a trend at this point. Pardon the incoming rant, but I am just deeply unsettled by it.

Guys. For the love of god. Talk to real people. Talk to friends. Talk to family members. I get that it's hard if those are currently not an option, but there's always acquaintances, neighbors, colleagues, classmates, people at sports events or hobby clubs or community getogethers, people in your congregation, servers, cashiers, doormen, cabbies, people you see every day walking their dog in your neighborhood, people at a party, people at the local coffee shop/bar/bookstore, the guys cleaning your street, anybody, literally anybody who is a living breathing human. You need to force yourself to maintain regular human interactions. This might seem like an overreaction in regards to the topic at hand, but I am so dead fucking serious right now.

Loneliness is a scary scourge, especially if you suffer from mental health issues. Yes, meeting new people and making new friends or maintaining human connection can be extremely hard. Yes, trying to be funny annd lovable and be understood can fucking suck, I know, trust me, but I promise it's not that scary, it's really not. The more you do it it becomes less so, and the effort of breaking through that discomfort and coming to terms and making peace with the fact that conversation with folks will not and should not be perfect and predictable and safe a lot of the time but is STILL good and fulfilling and essential is part of the reward. And the fact of the matter is you don't even need to be besties with everyone. You just need regular human interaction in different forms, even if it's sometimes stilted or superficial or uncomfortable or just plain bad.

And, because this seems to be a lot of the why people flock to these chatbot things—if you're just looking for someone to sling ideas at or talk to about media or special interests or fanfiction or whatever else while staying anonymous, the whole wide internet is right there! Millions upon millions of users! And many, many of them decent people and likely to be open to you reaching out or interested in talking about the same thing you want to talk about, or roleplaying, or whatever else, no matter how weird or niche you think it is. Because here's the thing, and I mean this in the nicest way possible: you are not unique. It has been done before. There is nothing new under the sun, and that should feel like a comfort, not a curse. Generations of anxious, awkward people have found ways to make connections with each other over the (subjectively, and sometimes objectively) stupidest and/or weirdest shit. Sometimes you might even make an actual friend, or find someone who shares your experiences or your views, and you might feel that tiny bit better. Sometimes you'll just write kinky self-insert romance with a stranger on the internet for a couple of hours or whatever, and that's great too.

And if you're just looking for a way to live out fantasies, or get out of your own head, and you are just THAT embarrassed about sharing that with someone else (which, by the way: shame is a normal feeling but one that is once again ultimately necessary and healthy to get over or figure out how to deal with in the long run)—your imagination is enough, and it's fucking good for you. I can't believe I have to say this, but just sitting in your room thinking for yourself and imagining things is good for you, even if it is a form of escapism. Putting that to words or images or whatever else, by yourself for yourself, is good for you. Or at the very least, it's better than asking a preprogrammed intellectual property theft machine to regurgitate a reductive version of your wants and needs back to you at the cost of pouring the equivalent of a ten million gallon canister of gasoline on the environment and also on your own social skills and needs.

This shit, and I cannot stress this enough, is not sustainable. I don't even mean in the grand scheme of things. I am not trying to guilt anyone or prophesize about the "doom days" of AI, I really am not. I literally just mean it is not sustainable for people, individually, to get addicted to and reliant on faux-communication with a program. The dopamine hit it gives you WILL wear off, and it WILL start to not be enough, and the creators WILL start charging you more money or asking for personal information or whatever, and your social and/or creative needs still won't be fulfilled and you'll just be left in the same place you started in, if not sadder, if not worse.

Just. Talk to people. I am BEGGING at this point. I promise the relative discomfort of that versus the long-term consequences relying on whatever the hell these chatbots are supposed to be could have on your actual emotional and mental health is much less scary, and much more worth it and rewarding in the long run.

[kpop-with-mars]

|12 Days of Drabbles|Day 7; I love him|

{Non-Idol!Kim Hongjoong x Male!Reader}

{Plot; Y/N in love with Hongjoong, and even at his engagement party Y/N's feelings don't fade away.}

{A/N - I physically couldn't not make this have a hopeful ending T~T}

{Word Count; 928

{TW!!; Internalized homophobia, religious guilt, use of the F slur.}

{Tags; Pining, Angst, First person POV, Angst with a hopeful ending.}

Pure is what the wind around me was.

Here, my best friend's engagement party. out in a large field of wild grass and flowers. The fairy lights swayed in the gentle waves of night air. The moon glowed with a serene ambience, hanging above the guests in faint light. The chatting among the guests sounded like the chirping of birds in a forest. all while a small orchestra played their old folk songs that seemed to echo beyond the fields with flowing, god-like grace.

Not me.

I was happy that my best friend Hongjoong, who had chosen me as his best man, was getting the happiness he deserved with a relationship that was destined to be perfection and fulfillment. But it always seemed to be other people's happiness that was like the thronging of a church bell, reminding loudly of whom I was in this moment in time and where I wanted to be. Even though I had repented for all of my thoughts and feelings, I would always be the fallen angel of the morning star that burned forevermore. And you can't love a god when you're the lucifer in his story.

The way I walked through these strangers reminded myself of that snake in the garden, having eaten and now slithering with the knowledge of my own sin, all while surrounded by the blissful Adams and Eves. all so perfect... And I am the ultimate sin, son, as I always will be. I can tell I'm being watched as I look for Hongjoong; I know their every thought since I've heard it all before. 'He'll be burned and torn in hell.' A familiar stranger I pass probably thinks, 'He's just some fag,' I can feel another thinking. It's always the same, but then again, I'll always be the same, no matter how hard I try to not be. He waves to me from the field where there are people dancing, "Hey y/n!, come dance with me!" He says with a sinless smile, one I wish to keep forever. I stride to him with my gaze turned down at the grass, just so I pretend like I'm admiring nature, then trying to be ignorant to the eyes of judgment around me. He clasps my hand in his, and I start to feel ashamed of myself as he speaks to me softly, "Why don't we practice a little? since there's still time for you to get a nice lady for the wedding."

He chuckles, and it's the sweetest sound I'll ever hear. yet it doesn't soothe me one bit as I feel the warmth of his skin on mine. And all I wanted to do was melt, in hopes a part of me would be stuck onto him forever. but I'll never let him know. "Sure, just don't make it weird or anything like that," I said in a way where he would take it as a joke. when really I'm scared of how he'll hold me and how he'll make me want it more.

He smiles and sweeps me into his embrace as we now follow the same movements as the other dancers. My chest is nearly pressed against his, his breath becomes mine, and his hands are holding me...

He is. holding. me.

He's holding me like I was always his to be. He's holding me as my throat is about to cave in. He's holding me without even knowing how much this is hurting me.

And all I want is to cry until I am nothing but bones in the dirt.

He glides me across the grass and flowers like it's a royal ball. His hands are cupping my waist while I suppress my dirtiest sin; I look in his eyes as he looks back and hold back the quiver in my voice and shaking in my hands. "A little cozy, aren't we?" He falls for it and chuckles again. "Yes, but you're my best friend. It's only natural we're so close." Does he not realize we're closer than he thinks?, or am I the one thinking we're closer?when this is actually the furthest I've felt from him. And for the first time in a damn while, I want him to see me. I want him to see my sinful thoughts, to see just how tainted I am from my feelings for him. That's the only way I'll ever feel like I can live on to be at his wedding and watch him marry what God intended. But maybe God doesn't want my happiness.

If he did, I would be the one in her place, and Hongjoong would be the one saying his vows to me; he would be the one kissing me, and he would be holding me like he is now if we had a first dance. I wouldn't feel ashamed to be his husband if God wanted my happiness.

Hongjoong smiles brightly at me as we are whisked away in dance among the cool breeze like leaves, "You feel so cold, Y/N..." He pulled me flush against him, and our noses are nearly pressed together. "Let me help you." I want him to help me; I want to have him all to myself like I used to. A part of me starts to feel hope, not from God, but from a chance that this is the universe where I don't have to be a girl. I have to tell Hongjoong tonight that I can't do this to him or myself anymore. I don't care if God hates me.

Because I love him.

[taoistpenguin]

advice for young people from an old person

i’m old. but not really. i’m 50+ chronologically, so by social media standards i’m ancient. but i don’t think old, or act old. in my head i’m still in my 20s, and i still do the things i did in my 20s. okay, not as many drugs, and i regrettably can’t drink like i used to, but the creative things, the intellectually, emotionally, and physically stimulating things, i still do. a lot of them i do better now than when i was in my 20s.

i’ve acquired some scars and wisdom along the way. i’ve been married, divorced and married again. i’ve had my heart broken hard several times, and i may have broken a couple. i’ve pulled six figure incomes, and i’ve lived paycheck to paycheck hiding from the landlord. i’ve had careers and dead end jobs. i’ve gone backwards or sideways to go forward when i had to, in the interest of keeping a roof over my head. i made lots of mistakes, but i learned from them. i have very few regrets.

i’ve struggled with depression and i’ve been an outsider, and i’ve felt the joy of real and close friendships. at this point i give zero fucks what anyone thinks of me and my life. through all of it, the highs and the lows, there’s been one constant, which is this: i kept going. i shut up and did the work. i pushed to accomplish my goals. if i kept hitting brick walls, i found a way around them. so based on my ancient lived experience, here’s my completely unsolicited advice to young folks:

in any situation you encounter in life, you really only have two choices: accept it or change it. doesn’t matter if it’s a random encounter in the checkout line or a life-defining decision you have to make, it’s always only just those two options. if a situation arises that you can’t live with, it’s on you to change it. or at least try, because you won’t always succeed. but the effort alone, just the attempt, shows you who you are and how hard you’ll go in defense of your beliefs.

your other choice is to accept it. sometimes acceptance works out fine. everyone has different levels of tolerance. but here’s the thing: if you’re living in a situation that you chose to accept, then when the outcome is bad, you don’t get to complain. you made the choice to accept it. i’ve seen humanity at its lowest several times. i’ve seen people just give up and give in and get bitter. i’ve seen others in the same situations say ‘hell, no’ and stand in the fire, fully aware of the risk.

so as you go through your daily interactions, make conscious choices about how you want to respond, then act accordingly- but put up or shut up. my other advice for a happy life is: get away from screens more. go for a hike. read a real book, or play a musical instrument. get dirty. whittle. do martial arts. garden. play ultimate. become a beer geek. do tangible stuff with your hands and brains that also requires the participation of other actual humans in the same place at the same time.

talk to each other about shared experiences. bond over shared beliefs. most important, don’t cobble together your worldview based on comments from randos on social media. there’s an entire universe where this cyberworld doesn’t exist. get out in it and fall down, skin your knees, put a bandaid on and go back out to make more mistakes. after awhile you’ll see that the likes and the comments don’t matter as much as your own perspective. oh, and remember to be kind.

[poisonousquinzel]

read #11 of the Poison Ivy comic and my opinion on Janet is unchanged. I still find her obnoxiously pushy about subjects that she frankly doesn't have room to speak on. Trying to constantly say that 'Ivy's not like this' (about being ya know, a violent murderous plant woman) as if she knows next to anything about her as a person and hasn't been witness to her killing people.

Ivy literally killed her entire previous office building and then had it set alight in Gotham City Villains Anniversary Giant #1. She "spared" her boss as Janet's request by turning her into a gigantic fucking plant.

Like Ivy isn't a KNOWN criminal with a kill count in the hundreds at minimum.

Or her pushing Ivy and getting pissed only to kiss her like 3 seconds later, accusing her of doing something to the CEO chick when Ivy had literally been kneeling in front of her and hugging her, not exactly Fighting Stance sorta moment and then immediately telling her to fix it.

Her getting pissed that Ivy used her control over the lamia to get all the group members to stand in a blockade with her, like ???? Ma'am, she's Poison Ivy. Who the fuck did you think you were hanging around with??

And the "you dragged us here against our will?" via the dumbass concoction that, oh, right, Janet dragged them here and ultimately led to them to drinking. The one that she was ecstatic to keep drinking and was perfectly happy to reap the benefits from when it was something she wanted.

Ya know, the whole "At that point, I stop resisting. The hallucinogens. The weird vibes. Janet."

Saying, "I stop resisting." in the context of their make out session is not a display of enthusiastic consent, but whatever.

"you put our lives in danger for your own agenda" DUH, WHO DOES SHE THINK PAMELA IS????? like if she started this whole thing not knowing this was Poison Ivy, that'd be one thing, but she does. And she acts fucking stupid every time Ivy dares to act outta line in her view of the world.

Or when Ivy, idk, acts in character.

"you know what I am Janet." Like it's not as if she ain't trying to constantly remind her who the fuck she is, what she's done.

"This is not what you are. This is what you were."

She acts like they've known each other for Years and allllllll that bad stuff she doesn't approve of was just how Ivy was in the beginning, and all of this is some little missteps after years of recovery and rehabilitation and shit. And it's just Not. It's been a couple of months, at the most.

Sometimes we have wishful images and expectations of folks that just aren't realistic and eventually, she's gonna have to come to terms with the fact that the woman she believes Ivy to be because of a couple acts of kindness does not mean that she's this picture perfect image of an Environmental Activist with a pure non violent heart who would just hug all the trees if it meant world peace ❤️

This woman that she's built up inside her head as Ivy, is not Ivy. And has never been the Ivy in front of her.

Janet. Does. Not. Know. Her.

If she did, she wouldn't be acting like she has throughout the past two chapters. She wouldn't have dragged her to a wellness retreat that Ivy would OBVIOUSLY not morally align with.

and then she kisses her??? Ivy's trying to talk and get through to her that even if she's not Scum Of The Earth Villain With No Moral Code, that there is some things she just can't change. Ivy can't just ignore the way the world is or the way the earth is screaming in pain caused by humans.

No matter how hard she may want to, she's always going to be part plant. She's always going to have this drive and deep seeded want to protect plant life. She can't cut that out of her, it's just another part of her.

And, frankly, if she Wanted to put them in danger, if she wanted to truly make a stand in that moment. She could have just killed those two people. She could have made Them kill those two people.

She didn't. She did save the entire group, she took them out to stand and when the situation got out of hand and she realized those people were going to run them over, she saved all of them and got all of them out of there. She could have just left. She could have just popped into the earth herself and let them to deal with the consequences, where it be physical injuries or otherwise.

But instead of letting her talk, she kisses her and starts on her "oh, but I know you so much better than you know yourself clearly. I don't believe you when you tell me you're a way and then I'm gonna get bitchy when you act like how you said you are. :)"

"I don't believe you. You saved us when you could have sacrificed us." Also, sorry, but what the fuck would Ivy have even gained from "sacrificing them"??? She didn't believe those folks would actually try n run over a group of people, that's it. Them all dying aside from her wasn't going to stop what they were there trying to prevent anyway.

But why would I expect Janet to know shit about the finer details or even basic surface level shit in regards to larger problems that Ivy's trying to deal with.

Also, love her just dodging Ivy's now repeated "this was not something I should have done nor should it continue" in regards to their Less Platonic physical contact. Like, lady is Fully aware that Ivy not only has a woman waiting for her back in Gotham, but that Ivy's In Love with that woman.

And Ivy straight up said that sleeping with her was One of several mistakes, in the last chapter.

'Harley would understand. She knows what it's like to get caught up in the moment. I could just tell her about this. We could laugh about it together.

But I immediately start to feel guilty that I let this happen at all."

Like it doesn't matter to Ivy if Harley would be okay with it or if that's what she was implying with the "side quest" comment, because to Her, it doesn't feel right.

"But I immediately start to feel guilty that I let this happen at all." That I Let This Happen At All.

But also again, pointing out that quote above

"At that point, I stop resisting. The hallucinogens. The weird vibes. Janet."

and how all her actions in this scene were influenced by the same drugged goop the rest of the retreaters were high on.

"There's a reason I had trouble resisting the hallucinogenic properties of that green goop."

"What? What is it? Did I do something wrong?"

"No. I did something wrong."

"You mean sleeping with me?"

"Okay, I did several things wrong. -"

But sure, okay kiss her when she's trying to talk after she's already expressed to you that what happened was a mistake.

And then Janet stops her from dealing with the chick that Actually caused all this? Who was getting snippy and aggressive towards Ivy? Where's all your fucking anger towards the woman who actually drugged all you, you fucking moron.

"I thought you were only going to murder the real bad guys now."

well, tbf I don't think you're exactly a keen candidate for deciding who the "Real Bad Guys" are, Janet.

but Ivy stops, and tries to reason and be understanding with the chick.

Her responses "Gwen? Hey! Are you okay? What's going on" just oh so definitely sound like what someone would say if she were making the situation inside Gwen's body worsen significantly, at least to Fucking Janet Apparently.

"What the-- what have you done to her?"

Sweetie, are you stupid? What kinda person would create a reaction like Gwen's having and kneel there being like ""Gwen? Hey! Are you okay? What's going on?"

everything Gwen's getting is called self inflicted Karma.

Obviously Ivy would know she's not okay if she was actively killing her. Or like, maybe how she wouldn't get down and hug her if she still planned on murdering her?? Why would she be calming the situation down just to be like "Ha! Sike!" She's not exactly the jokester type, Janet.

Their whole dynamic is just

Ivy: says or does typical "Protect the planet" Ivy stuff that she's been doing since before this comic started (and significantly before Janet came into the picture)

Janet: wow, I can't believe you'd do such a thing, this is so unlike you.

Like, I'm sorry you're a dumb bitch Janet but boo hoo, almost like crimes and violence comes along with hanging around a mass murderer. 💀 Am I supposed to feel sympathetic for her? She's got no reason to still be hanging around Ivy if she doesn't like how she exists or how she operates in her day to day Less Than Legal activities.

[dlamp-dictator]

Okay, finished up the main story of Wuthering Waves and slowly getting a feel for how the day-to-day grind is going to be in this game. And... I gotta' be honest here.

I'm enjoying it. A lot.

The game is fun. Very fun. It's got flaws, glaring flaws, but frankly I haven't had this much fun in a game like this since maybe DmC 5 if I had to compare it to something I'm familiar with. Ultimately, despite my love of the game I like it in spite of its massive flaws rather than because of its minor strong points, but it's a game I honestly think I'll stick with for awhile.

However, I'm not here to talk about the gameplay this time around. I wanted to talk about the story first because that's honestly the roughest part of the game. And I'll be frank, this is more a mad rambling in the sense of the younger Allen X than the current one, but I just can't get my thoughts on this game steady yet, so try not to mind the vomit I'm about to throw at you.

But first, as always, that synopsis.

Wuthering Waves is set in a futuristic post-apocalyptic world after a catastrophe called the Lament wiped out most of humanity and caused unknown beings and monsters, called Tacet Discords to appear. However, humanity soon adapted to the threat and over time rebuilt civilization. The story follows the amnesiac Rover, who has awoken from a deep slumber and sets out to explore this new world.

Let it be known that I stole this from the wiki because that's how little I care to summarize this story myself. There's... a lot to discuss. I'll be here all day if I nitpick and talk about every immediate problem I have with the game's story, so I'll try to summarize my issues with three main points. Emphasis on try, again the game's still very new and my thoughts are overall still very scattered. With that said, here are the main points:

There's no real ground for us to care about the world or its people.

The game overloads us with unfamiliar terms and makes following the story hard.

The military sycophancy is... annoying.

Alright, let's break this down as best we can.

Yeah, Let's Just Knock Out the Military Sycophancy

So, while I'd like to start with the most pressing matter first of the game's hook-less intro and lack of intrinsic motivation for Rover or the player aside from gacha rewards, this is the most controversial thing to discuss and I'd rather have it out in the open and talked about first so we aren't too distracted with my other messy points.

So, Wuthering Waves' first 3-ish Acts (especially Act 2) and honestly the whole Huanglong chapter of the main story has rather... pointed moments of focus toward military branches of Huanglong and Jinzhou. There's a lot of heavy praise for the military, how they're keeping out enemies and invaders, how they need to be supported at all cost, etc.. And on its own it's fine.

Like, really, no bullshit, I'm honestly fine with this on the surface.

A quick reminder folks, Wuthering Waves, for all it's technology and advancements, is still in a post-apocalyptic world where literal Sound Demons™ come out of the void to slaughter people with reckless abandon. This is shown the very first time you leave and enter the city of Jinzhou, as NPC soldiers are actively fighting Tacet Discord, some of which will die if you don't intervene and help them clear out mobs on your way out of the city. The training barracks is right outside the gate, there are military bases and camps in even the more remote places where you can also see more NPC soldiers fighting mobs. The lore states that only recently they've forced non-Resonators out of the army because they will legit die instantly to these things.

In this world having a strong military and being proud of it, especially when your city is the first line of defense, is something that's obviously going to come up. In the world of Wuthering Waves, a military force isn't there to potentially conquer another country and take their stuff, work as some glorified bodyguard for the nobility, or protect luxury resources of elite national interest. In Wuthering Waves, the army is thrown into the frontlines to be the wall against the Tacet Discord and likely die or be horribly injured in droves during the process. Make no mistake, despite Jinzhou elegant and peaceful appearance it is on the northern border where almost all the major Tacet Discord are formed. It is very much Chinese-Kislev with Sound Demons™ instead of Chaos Daemons. Not to mention you're traveling around with Yangyang, a member of the scouting military branch, who would obviously have strong opinions about the organization she serves, and Jianxin, who's an errant monk trying to still learn about the world and only has the words of her masters to go off of, and her masters are very pro-military.

It. Makes. Sense.

But the game sure as shit doesn't really show a lot of that in the text and dialogue. It really does come across as brown-nosing, and since the only voices against are main group are the Fractsidus it's hard to take their words at face value. It's not like the game plays up the fact that Yangyang is a military officers aside from Act 2, or that Jianxin is in actually kind of a childish musclehead that's only really good at martial arts and little else as her later Intimacy voice lines imply. The Military Sycophancy is more a product of rushed and lacking characterization than outright brown-nosing. Some minor dialogue in later acts actually question how righteous and moral some of those military leaders are in the heat of the moment, but you have to look for those voices to be heard.

But speaking of lacking characterization that brings me to my second point.

There's Not Really a Grounded Hook, is There?

To give a brief summary of the Huanglong story, the main character, Rover (yes, that seems to be the canonical name) wakes up after a vision/mysterious event of sorts while having no memories of their past or their goals. They are awoken by a friendly soldier and town guard and travels with their new companions to the city of Jinzhou after some shenanigans. The city's local leader, realizing an prophesy involving Rover is about to set off big things, attempts lure them to their side through both friendly and mysterious means. As Rover follows the trail they come to learn several parties and factions not only know about them, but have plans for them that don't require them to even know of main purpose of them being brought to the world, and those factions tease Rover with information hinting about their purpose before fleeing the scene. Through these meetings and the connections Rover makes throughout the story, they decide side with those that housed, protected, and cared for them and help save their country, unbeknown to them and several others going all according to the city leader's plan at the end of the day, even if said leader gambled a little at the end.

And while I'm skipping a lot of details here and there, namely involving the Fractsidus, Black Shores, and other parties, that sure as hell is a better summary of the plot than you'd find in the game. I kept out a lot of the terminology, but that's the basic idea. You're an unknown element, you have several people interested in you because of it, and... that's really it.

There's... nothing to truly hook you.

Look, I know using the G-word is bad form, but I'm gonna. In Genshin the story is simple: You're Aether/Lumine, some asshole god stole your sibling (or sent them back in time or something), you want to get her back and you have to solve every country's problem along the way while Dainslief just stands their menacingly. In Arknights...

...

...

Okay, honestly Wuthering Waves' story intro is about as bad as Arknights' with all the unfamiliar terminology and introducing people you don't care about until 3 more main story chapters, but you get my point.

Wuthering Waves doesn't have much to get you truly invested in the story. There's no real incentive for you to do things aside from mild curiosity and the gacha rewards. The fact that the little scavenger hunt Jinshi sends you on is super-lore heavy doesn't help either. There's a few good moments like most Jiyan confronting the phantom of his former superior, most of the stuff with Aalto and the Black Shore, Scar's occasional moments, and all of the final act, but those are few and far between with all the lore, exposition, and Yangyang's voice actor not having the greatest voice direction. You're dragged around a lot, but you don't really get to stay long enough to really care about the group. I think the only time they did was when they had you with Yangyang in Qichi Village learning about the place's backstory. That was good storytelling and world-building, as you are immediately curious about why the village was so fucked up and the implications were so... twisted. And best of all Scar was able to bring the lore explanation to a human, understandable level with his analogy of the wolf, shepherd, and sheep.

Which brings me to my last point.

So Many Goddamn Terms

The fact that they reference this in later Acts does not help, but the game has a lot of terminology in it. To summarize some of this, the world of Solaris-3 is a post-apocalyptic world based off frequencies, wavelengths, and a biiiiit of Chinese/Eastern fantasy thrown in for flavor. A lot of things revolve around that, but goddamn are there a lot of terms here. Even the official site just barely covers the basics. The Black Shores, the Fractsidus, the various nations and locations of importance. There's... a lot. A lot that isn't cover in as much depth as it should, or should just be simplified to its most important points. Part of me thinks this is because it's a Chinese game first and translating all the terms into something a Westerner can understand is just a mess in and of itself. However... this game also had quite a few years to cook as well and... it needed another year in the oven for reason aside from the glitches and lag.

Smaller Issues

Just gonna' put these in list form because I'm very tired now.

The Voice Direction: I think it's clear the voice acting isn't great, and I want to say its the director's fault. We've got a lot of decent talent here and a few people with good line reads. It just feels something is holding a lot of them back or the director isn't giving them enough context. Maybe now that the secrets out and we know who's voicing what they can actually direct things better now. Either way I'm hoping it gets better.

The Glitches and Stuttering: I'll save gameplay discussions for another posts, but for now I'll say I'm filling it minimally. It's not as bad as others, and I took some precautions to not deal with it as much, but it's still bad.

Rover's Character: So Rover actually has a lot more speaking lines than the average gacha self-insert character, almost to the point of them being their own character. However, the words coming out of their mouth are often just exposition, which only characterizes Rover as someone either intelligent or observant, which clashes with in-universe other characterizations of them being an almost mindless TD-destroying slaughter that cuts through mobs like its an addiction.

Uuuuugh... I know I said I'd say some positive things about the game, but... this has already left me a little drained. I'll talk more in detail about the positives at a later date, but for now I'm gonna' chill for a bit and maybe do a weekly boss.

I'll see you folks later.

[axratsffxivwrite]

FFXIV Write Day 24 - Bar (The Old Clan Hall)

The din of chatter was almost too much for Viola's ears. Hunters came and went as she wiped down the bar, bickering over who had the best kill or who had the best gear. Their fussing over their own ranks within the clan kept them busy; too busy to look too closely at what leadership was up to down in Lowtown.

So long as they kept it that way, they had little to worry about.

Occasionally, her ears made out murmurs of Garlean activity, the sort of gossip that annoyed hunters liked to complain about but ultimately not act on. If such rumors were verifiable, actionable…

Well, that was a matter for the folks downstairs.

She remembered all of it, of course. She had learned the art of looking busy, pretending not to hear a word, while some rich bootlicker's son talked about how the legion was sending forces east again…

She poured a glass for the weary hunter in front of her.

Eventually, the bar cleared out; the few patrons who made their beds in the bunkrooms upstairs retired for the evening, while the others wandered off to their homes elsewhere. She tidied up, put everything away, gathered up the lockbox of coin and headed for the cellar.

At the back of the cellar, she shouldered a false wall out of her way, then closed it again behind her. She took the steps carefully down into the lowtown storage rooms below, until she came out into a street lined with old warehouses adorned in red banners.

She ducked into one of the rooms without so much as knocking.

Marsil's warroom was half storage, half functional. Emptied crates and barrels were stacked around the walls in a somewhat orderly fashion. There was a pattern to it; which crates hid what, which barrels had false bottoms… amidst the structured chaos all was a wooden table, covered in maps and missives that Marsil poured over.

A small Viera child, no older than three summers, peered out from underneath the table. Kin's bright green eyes widened and they rushed to hug Viola's leg.

"Mama! I missed you."

"I was just upstairs, little one." She chuckled, a warm smile on her face. "Now why are you still awake at this hour? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Marsil chuckled at the two of them. "They've been waiting all night for you to be done working, Viola."

"Well," she reached down to ruffle their fluffy black hair, "that's very sweet."

Kin squeezed her leg uncomfortably hard, sharp little claws digging into her calf. She smiled and did her best to ignore the discomfort, offering out the lockbox with her other hand. He stepped around the table to meet her.

"Our friends are going east," she told Marsil. "At least, so Jamil believes."

"Jamil would know," Marsil replied as he took the box in hand, "they conscripted his sister last month. He's angry about it, and rightfully so, but I would not bring him into the circle to find out more. Still… worth checking in."

Viola frowned. "You will send Mujika, then?"

"No, not this time." He set the lockbox down atop the table and returned to inspecting his map. Already his fingers were tracing the eastward routes. "The twins haven't visited their family in Valnain for some time, I think they're due for a little trip."

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Thank you."

"I do try no to keep you two apart overly much." Marsil glanced up to smile fondly at her. "Kin has that pesky Hyur blood, after all. They need both their parents."

Viola glanced down to the toddler clinging to her leg, eyes drifting closed. She chuckled softly and leaned down to gently pry them off her leg. They whined and fussed, until she scooped them up safely into her arms. They hugged her neck instead, their head rested against her shoulder as they settled once more.

Marsil chuckled. "They haven't been this quiet all day."

She smiled. "No, I imagine not."

He nodded for the door. "Go on. Mujika should be back by the morn. Kin?"

Kin leaned their head back, forcing Viola to support their back so they didn't fall.

"Be good for your mother."

"Always aaam," they insisted with a yawn

Viola pulled them upright and held them close. Kin offered a soft noise of objection, but ultimately settled back into place.

"Let's start by not twisting out of Mother's arms," she chided gently.

"Sorrrryyyyy."

"It's okay, little one." She looked to Marsil. "And where will you be tonight?"

"Down here, no doubt. Don't worry, I'll sleep; Kutok will drag me out of here by my collar if I stay too long."

"Good." She turned back toward the door. "You will tell me if you need anything?"

"I'll be fine, Viola." He insisted. "Look after Kin."

"I can look after you both."

He smiled despite the exasperation in his eyes. "If I need anything from you, you will know."

"Good. Rest well, then."

"And you, as well."

[gurggggleburgle]

i know we all love the idea that all the mxtx characters sit around being best buddies and ultimate friends who hang out and have book club but... I would like to propose the unhinged opinion that Wei Wuxian irrationally can't stand Shen Qingqiu. In theory they should get along. In theory they should be perfectly suited for having a conversation and enjoying each other's company. Wei Wuxian is an easy going fella it's hard for him not to get along with folks. He is good friends with Nie Huaisang and in many ways they are similar.

But fucking Shen Qingqiu has this smug arrogant asshole vibe that is just a inherent part of their personality no matter what setting. Like he's not a bad guy but he's emotionally dishonest and constantly playing himself as cooler and better than he is in a way that is way too close to Jin Zixuan to make him like this bitch. Also Shen Yuan is just the kinda guy who money wise doesn't notice the price of anything that isn't figurines/merch/weeb shit in general. Even then not really. He's very how much could a banana cost.

Even when they share an interest Shen Yuan just naturally goes into smug redditor gloating but not really speech. He's not even trying it's all reflex. It's two bitches with hyperfixations not colliding. He's absolutely insufferable and the worst. Wei Wuxian even looks at how much shit Shen Yuan throws onto Luo Binghe as work and is like 'wow I know we're both trophy spouses but bitch I at least can do my own laundry and file my taxes. You don't even teach your disciples.'

So much of their relationship is Wei Wuxian being just cordial enough for everything thing to seem fine and dandy. Meanwhile, Shen Qingqiu actually does like Wei Wuxian fine. He thinks he's a cool dude and very fun. He likes talking and picking their brain on things but interests just don't tend to overly align so they really don't talk that much.

He thinks he's perfectly FINE.

He has no idea how much the two of them don't get along. He actually gets along better with Jiang Cheng at this point but it's whatever. This is the state of their relationship. Binghe doesn't think he's a bad guy and Shang Qinghua and him get along pretty fucking great.

Because, yeah the only time when hanging out with Shen Yuan is fun for him is when Shang Qinghua tags along and they get fucking wasted and just rant about porn and shitty novels because Shang Qinghua is an amazing filter all the things he doesn't like in Shen Yuan.

[freshlybakedspiderbread]

seiga kaku?

im gonna actively try to keep myself concise and to single points because its been so easy for me in the past to get lost in wicked hermit thoughts and veer off who knows where... Part of it surely has to do with how a long time ago i used to have an rp blog on tumblr where i spent everyday thinking about seiga to some extent!

General opinion/How much I care about them: there was a long period of time where i would say without a doubt she was my single favourite character in touhou. I couldn't properly point to any one reason, or any tidy chain of events that might have led to it, other than learning about her, reading and seeing various very formative doujin works featuring her and the th13 crew, and maybe some old-fashioned projecting led me to latching onto every aspect of her... These days, there's a lot of touhous I obsess and go wild over and to even greater extents than her, but seiga objectively has the longest history of making me go a little nuts, whereas even aya took a little more time to nettle into my brain.

I like Seiga a lot and ive thought about her a lot, is what im getting at!

A ship I love: seiyoshi (seiga/yoshika) is funny in that it has a lot of little 'requirements' to me. Like if intepreted as just purely the evil hermit controlling a tool that she herself murdered to obtain, i think thats boring. But likewise, if its intepreted as just the hermit tragically trying to preserve her departed beloved, well that might be better but still lacking to me.

i couldnt possibly get across my ideal backstory for them right now, but the ultimate gist of it is that Seiga definitely did care for the living Yoshika who then died unexpectedly, before Seiga could decide herself whether she would commit to teaching her the ways of the hermit or simply get bored and move on. Her main motivation in performing the most ludicrously evil magic and create a jiangshi was because she refused to let even the natural order of life and death take anything away from her.

....Thaaaat all aside, i think their interactions in present day are just really funny 😄 Seiga 'spoiling' her dear Yoshika who laughs off being a meat shield because its not like she can die again!

A non-romantic relationship that I love: I think Seiga and Futo have the most oddball dynamic among the taoists and also Futo is probably the only one Seiga wouldn't have intense romanctic tension with. Futo who is a weirdo herself, acknowledges Seiga as their wise teacher of the arts (calling her seiga-donno) and yet also does not think of her as above any of them in their little personal hierarchy because Futo knows Seiga has no interest in being a proper retainer to Miko, so all of Futo's formalities almost come off as either sarcastic or as a really esoteric form of endearment. Meanwhile, Seiga probably thought a long time ago Futo would grow weary of things like loyalty and matters of noble blood or talking like an ancient old person, but none of that happened and Futo remains the same as ever, which has been altogether surprising, charming, and exasperating for Seiga (and everone else but they're all mostly charmed 😊)

The NOTP: i guess you'd have to work especially hard to get me to gel with pairing her up with any of myouren temple's folks. I get the temptation since every other taoist has one or two easily paired up counterpart there, but its not enough to just cross a checklist and leave it at that!

(that said, if you were gonna pair up buddhists and taosists thematically, i get why one might put seiga with shou since they were technically most vital in backstory with miko/byakuren respectively, and also because they both have a servant, one jiang-shi and a mouse. but i always thought seiga made a better parallel witn nue personally)

My biggest headcanon about them: most of this post is already headcanon, but as for another 'big' one...

I believe over the last thousand and whatever years, Seiga made semi-regular (as in maybe once every few years or a century?) visits to the tomb where Miko and gang slept, indulging and refreshing her memories of them, chatting up Tojiko who is now a ghost. And then sometime in 2011 right as her hermit senses told her it was finally time to meet them all again, she went to to tomb to greet them all only to find out literally the entire place was gone 😨

so all within like a week or something, Seiga had to go on a mad investigative quest where she discovered they had all been whisked to Gensokyo at some point, had to learn what the heck Gensoyko even is, how to get herself there, and then arrived just in time to get blasted by the incident resolvers. Really busy time in her life!

An idea for a fanfiction I would like to write/read about them: ha... one day, my multi-part seiga backstory fic incorporating every stray headcanon i've ever had. and then i quit writing forever maybe n_n

That aside, a funny scenario would be Okina appearing trying to stir drama because Seiga is basically the reason why Miko divorced Okina. And Seiga has no idea who she is or about any of that because Miko never mentioned it 😌

Something that makes me think of them: pretzels.

also its someone elses fault but luo tianyi is just the seiga vocaloid to me 😑

[nothorses]

People's reactions to atheism kinda feel similar to people's reactions to asexuality and aromanticism. "What do you mean you don't have gods/sexual/romantic attraction! Everybody has that! You probably just haven't found the one you vibe with yet".

At least as an ace person who grew up without religion and find that it is not for me, I keep seeing the similarities. People act like my thoughts and ideas about my own life in regards to religion do not matter since I don't have one. I have friends who downright said "of course you should celebrate Christmas, everyone does!". If I had been Jewish or Muslim I doubt they would have said that, but since I am seen as "neutral/not yet converted" they think it's fine to treat me as "Christian lite" even though I'm not christian and have never been. It's very annoying and it's gotten to a point where I am seriously considering converting to forn sed (asatru) just to get them off my back. Although I doubt they'd recognize that, either...

(Obligatory i don't hate religion and I can see what value people get out of it, and from an outside perspective I find it similar to any relationship, aka it could be abusive/hurtful but in general it is a positive experience for the people involved.)

Hey anon I understand where you're coming from, but. I regret to inform you that it is in fact extremely common for people to try to pressure non-Christian theists into celebrating Christmas; Jewish and Muslim people very much included.

I really recommend connecting with and listening to the experiences of Jewish and Muslim folks, because while avoiding making those assumptions in the first place is a good first step, it can be hard to really understand your own blind spots without some real context.

I also point this out because I think this tendency to compare hardships is really damaging, and takes away from the solidarity atheists need to have with minority religions. This isn't a "theists vs. atheists" issue, it's a "dominant religion vs. marginalized beliefs" issue. It's not about the presence or "lack" of beliefs- it's about marginalization and oppression on the basis of belief.

And you're right: we need to be able to see atheism as the presence of a belief (that there is no higher power), which contributes to a unique and valuable worldview just like any religion.

The key here is that we're shifting the conversation away from this Christian-fabricated argument about whether atheism is Right And Good, or Immoral And Bad. Because it doesn't matter, and it's not the basis any other conversation about religion is operating on- any other religion deserves to exist regardless of "accuracy", and atheism- no matter how much we believe it's the most correct- operates the exact same way, and deserves the exact same space.

Just like the a-spec discourse, the divide is artificial. A-specs have unique experiences with oppression, but ultimately the reason for their oppression is the same as any other queer identity: because they're not straight*. And just like them, atheists have some very different experiences from marginalized religions, but ultimately atheism is marginalized for the same reason any marginalized religion is: because we're not Christian.

I think that's a great comparison for another reason, too: a-specs can share intersecting identities (gay ace, pan aro, straight ace, etc.) that do create overlap with experiences unique to those intersecting identities (including straight experiences!); but we argue that straight a-specs ultimately aren't considered straight in the eyes of cisheterosexism, and aren't given the same treatment as them, because any deviation from that established norm is cause for punishment.

*I say "straight" to mean the position of power; identifying as/being straight is one thing, but being treated like you're straight, and afforded that position in oppressive power structures, is a completely different thing.

[richincolor]

Review of Rez Ball by Byron Graves Heartdrum

Publisher’s Summary: These days, Tre Brun is happiest when he is playing basketball on the Red Lake Reservation high school team—even though he can’t help but be constantly gut-punched with memories of his big brother, Jaxon, who died in an accident.

When Jaxon’s former teammates on the varsity team offer to take Tre under their wing, he sees this as his shot to represent his Ojibwe rez all the way to their first state championship. This is the first step toward his dream of playing in the NBA, no matter how much the odds are stacked against him.

But stepping into his brother’s shoes as a star player means that Tre can’t mess up. Not on the court, not at school, and not with his new friend, gamer Khiana, who he is definitely not falling in love with.

After decades of rez teams almost making it, Tre needs to take his team to state. Because if he can live up to Jaxon’s dreams, their story isn’t over yet.

My Thoughts: Forgive me for a second, but I need to gush. I don’t often gush, but I really did love this book and Tre’s story. From the very beginning Byron Graves had me on the edge of my seat. We are dropped right into the final moments of a regional playoff game that means a lot to Tre, his family, and his community. The loss they’ve had makes them want the victory even more than usual. Byron expertly weaves that tension throughout Tre’s year to come and made it so putting down the book was almost impossible.

The structure of the story is that Tre is trying to make the varsity team with the ultimate goal being an NBA spot and one of his friends is making a documentary along the way. It was a clever bit of storytelling because Tre does several interviews for this film and we get to hear his answers to questions that might not be asked in typical daily conversations. The documentary frames the story well.

Aside from the way the story is structured, the setting and community is incredibly vivid. The rez, the high school, and the basketball courts are painted clearly and it feels like I stepped through into this space and time to see and hear the “beautiful chaos” of the game and can appreciate the relationships of everyone involved. This book is going to speak loudly and clearly to those folks who’ve played and/or watched rez ball.

Though Byron Graves was definitely writing to and for Native readers, this story can also speak to others because there are universal themes of pain, loss, community, love, survival, and people striving to thrive. There are difficult situations and many moments of intense pressure on and off the court. I appreciated that there are wins and losses and it’s hard to guess which one is coming. Above all, it all felt real. Life isn’t often as tidy as a Disney or Hallmark movie. Tre is making some excellent choices like his summer training plan and he’s also managing to make some poor choices that create dumpster fires.

He’s surrounded by friends, including one he’d like to have as more than a friend, and family who help him navigate life and bring love, laughter, and sometimes hard truths. HIs parents are still grieving the death of his older brother so it’s a struggle for all concerned, but they are steady. They don’t always see through to his pain, but they give him space and support when they do see past his armor.

Recommendation: Get this as soon as you can. Pre-order. Recommend it to your local library. Do all the things that will get it into your hands and into lots of other hands too. It’s a page turner with a lot of excitement and heart. I will be recommending this one to pretty much anyone. I watched basketball frequently with my father when I was a child, but am not interested enough to watch it on my own as an adult. Nevertheless, I cared about every single game in these pages. Graves pulled me in there and had me in the stands jumping and cheering with the Red Lake Warriors fans.

[headcanonrepository]

The Ravenwatch after Elder Scrolls Online

(warning for some darker themes)

The Three Banners War eventually ends. It doesn't really matter who 'officially' wins - there are no real victors in war.

High King Emeric eventually dies. It's not really important how - if nothing else, time catches up to everyone eventually. But this is a problem for the Ravenwatch - he is their biggest political ally and dies with no heir, leaving a power vacuum. The Covenant dissolves - without his leadership, the Orsimer loose interest in cooperation with men, and the Redguards want little to do with the Bretons now they have no political ties through marriage. There is trade between Redguard and Breton territories, but no active cooperation like sharing of military strength.

High Rock is a political nightmare - every highborn noble making their case for their slice of power, some through might and some through subtle allegiances and leveraging of favors or threats. There is something most nobles agree on - why exactly have they been allowing a whole nest of vampires to exist openly in their lands and play at being nobles themselves? Why should the (un)dead get any say on the lives of the living?

After all, the Ravenwatch is something of an open secret amongst the nobility. Tolerated while Emeric was alive - wouldn't do to openly cross the High King, after all. They could even accept Verandis to a certain degree, even if an Altmer holding Breton lands is something of a sore reminder of the Breton's cultural past. Verandis could play the political game, could charm and flatter where he needed to. Could drop just enough implication of a threat without being actively hostile to make people think twice. But with Verandis tied to the Dark Heart...

The nobles aren't sure which of his 'heirs' (which they'd challenge, given their adoptive status and nature - can you legally inherit a title and lands if you are officially dead?) is more insulting to them. A Khajiit, a Bosmer or another Altmer holding their lands? All three?

Adusa never really has a chance with diplomacy. There are too many racist assumptions before she even opens her mouth, and once she does, the Khajiiti pattern of speech marks her out as other. She isn't a natural diplomat to begin with, much preferring problems she can solve through actions, not words, but she would try, for the sake of their family.

Gwendis would try, too. She can do the noble thing for a bit - Verandis taught her well - even if she would prefer not to. She meets a lot of the same problems - deeply ingrained prejudices and an unwillingness to listen. It's deeply frustrating, and she has a harder time not showing it.

Fennorian has the best shot at resolving anything peacefully. He's seen as more 'legitimate' heir, being also an Altmer, and if the rumors are to be believed, a blood relation of Verandis'. He's also aware of etiquette and society in a way that speaks of his more 'civilised' upbringing. Unfortunately, he just isn't Verandis. He's hyperaware of etiquette because getting it wrong makes him anxious - and with such high stakes, he can't afford a single mistake. But he also hasn't had the practice, the long years of mastering just when to apply pressure and when to employ flattery.

Ultimately, no one had a chance of resolving this without bloodshed for one very simple reason: mortal nobles had no intention of peace with them in the first place.

Some noble gets the bright idea to mobilize an army against them. Well, less an army and more a mob. You see, getting common folk to fight for your latest grab for power is a hard sell - what's in it for them? But start spreading enough rumors about a nest of dangerous vampires up on the hill and people will band together to protect their families.

Every member of the Ravenwatch flees from the castle. No one is willing to fight and break their oaths - they know full well these people are guilty of nothing more than believing what they were told. Besides, the Ravenwatch castle and lands are now a target on their back - they will never be free of the vicious politics of the region if they defend their home. Nobles want any extra crumb of power they can get, and even a barren patch of dirt near the mountains is worth grabbing.

The Ravenwatch go into hiding. Gwendis, Adusa and Fennorian still try to actively hunt down and stop misbehaving vampires - they feel it is their duty. It also helps them keep some level of faith with mortals - most of them are essentially good people and worth helping, even if a small number of them ousted them from their home. Many of the other Ravenwatch members feel as though there's no point to continuing that work. It was different when they had shelter, resources, a safe place to call their own - they were happy to help back then - but now that daily survival is a more pressing concern, they don't feel quite so willing to throw themselves into more danger to protect mortals who treated them so callously. They still uphold their oaths, though whether that's out of loyalty towards the Ravenwatch ideals or fear of being the next hunted down vampire is debatable.

So the Ravenwatch is scattered, in hiding and few in number. But they are still around, still doing what they can from the shadows without any hope of recognition or reward. Over the long years, they helped a newly-turned Count in Skingraad come to terms with his nature and work out a support system that allowed him to conceal himself while still protecting his citizens. They helped a mage gain control of her hunger to the extend that she became a trusted Court Mage who only ever snacks on the contents of Solitude's prison.

They do good in the world. They try their best. And they carve out a life for themselves - a somewhat unpredictable, unstable life, but they have each other to rely on, and when they are weary, they are always welcome to stay a while in Arkathzand. Verandis always wants to know more about the state of the world on the surface and about the state of his family, even as much as it hurts to hear. It hurts more to see them leave after, knowing full well that there is no certainty they will return again, that Tamriel is more dangerous than ever for their kind. That should the worst happen, Verandis would have no way to know. That all he can do is hope and trust his family to come back to him.

[cinamun]

I don't think either of them are ready. If Jayce's easy button answer to "I'm scared" is basically "there, there" and not an attempt to get Hope to articulate her fear so they can work through it without her throwing herself at him, then he's not taking her recovery seriously enough. No matter what she's ultimately scared about, its hard enough for "well-adjusted" folks to even speak those words, but for someone working through what she is, saying such a thing can sometimes feel like they aren't making progress. I know he wasn't intentionally being dismissive. I don't doubt that cares and wants the best for her, for himself, and for them, but maybe he's assuming too much about the pace of her recovery. And considering everything, I think he needs to live a little longer as a legally bound partner before taking on fatherhood.

Hope still has a lot of healing to do. She has a lot going on. Workaholic/Perfectionist--She was forced to dial back on work. Guilt-ridden--Though misplaced, it still dwells in her. Newlywed--Life-affirming exercises aside, she still doesn't know Jayce that well as a legally bound partner. Consider that by the time she advances to one session every two weeks, the baby will be singing I'm Coming Out. Will she actually have had enough time to stabilize a new normal? Will she have had enough time to feel like the self she wants to be? Will she have had enough time to fully honor her responsibility to herself before taking on the responsibility of someone else?

But as Dr. Ian Malcolm says, life finds a way. So ready or not, if there is a baby on the way and she chooses to carry to term, then this is where my greatest concern lies. Hope has to be fully conscious of that fact that she is in a position to be the first to break the cycle of less than ideal parenting circumstances. If she still has things that have not been resolved, then, try as she might, those issues will continue to manifest until dealt with. And I think that she would set her recovery aside or significantly slow the pace--basically, grin and bear it, maybe actually believing that she'll dust off that work at the first opportunity--so that in the present she can be the best parent and partner in parenting she could be, though doing so may unfortunately bring about the opposite results.

My other concern is that if she happens to miscarry while early in her recovery, it may set them both back a great deal.

There are so many possibilities that come with an untimely period! I suppose my question would be, and you bring up great points, how long should they wait and how ready *IS* ready, anyway? Their plan was to get married, travel for their honeymoon, come home and have babies and love on each other. Elliot snatched all of that away so imagine Jay (I would say he wasn't dismissive, moreso, that's kinda their communication style. Remember when he had to be super direct with her during the whole Kenji Debachle™?), continuing to put his brand new life on hold for the actions of a man who almost killed his wife and ultimately any future children he'd have with her.

So how long should they wait?

Jay said at the cathedral that they were leaving to finish what they started across the street at the chapel and Hope (after some hesitation) got in that limo and dipped out. We know Hope, she's strong willed. She would have told him about himself if she didn't also want to leave.

Another example:

Jay also said "All I've ever BEEN is patient" during that argument about her "college friends". And he wasn't wrong, right? He's always very patient with her. So the nudging he's doing is how he helps her along. Hope, as an overachiever, needs a lot of reassurance. Jay comes in clutch with that and that is what we see him doing.

Last thing because I realize I'm writing a novel here lol

Hope is acutely aware of where she stands in the line to break generational curses. She was aware of it when she ran away as a teenager and even before that when she honored her grandmother by teaching her auntie to respect sex work. One thing we don't have to worry about with Hope is her repeating anything her grandmother did as a mother. Indya and Darren's parenting broke an entire generation of curses because look at how they are raising/ed their children! Hope is 2nd in line to break curses, not the first and its a beautiful thing to have witnessed.

Yes everyone is still in therapy after a major traumatic event a couple months ago. Yes they just became legally bound but I fear they'll be waiting forever if they wait for simulated life to give them perfection.