#but most of them have different last names in my campaign

[acephodel]

Some Curse of Strahd NPCs I commissioned from the amazingly talented @needlesslycryptic who also drew my party for me 💕

Here are the Brides of Strahd!

Volenta, Ludmilla, Anastrasya 🥰

[kjsfandoms]

Secret Santa

Eddie Munson x Reader

Description: Mrs. O'Donnell's yearly Secret Santa finally went well this year for Eddie Munson

Word Count: 870

------

Each year Mrs. O’Donnell had the idea to have her class take part in secret santa. Whether you liked who you got or not, you had to participate. It was a grade. As for Eddie Munson, someone who didn’t give a single fuck about his grades and shitty classmates, always managed to skip it for the last two years. This year though, he was way too determined to graduate to care about any of that. Plus this year it was different. Y/N was in his class. 

The two had never actually spoken to each other, but they would always steal glances at one another. There was something about her that he was so drawn to. That’s why he was secretly hoping he would get to be her secret santa. He’d finally get a reason to talk to her.

But alas, luck is never on Eddie’s side. He reached into the Santa hat that had the class names inside and pulled out Tina’s name. ‘Great.’ He thought to himself. He watched as the hat got around to Y/N as she went to pull out a name. He didn’t see the name, but he most definitely did see how she didn’t look his way. ‘There goes my chances.’

—

The day of secret santa Eddie walks into class holding a little gift bag with some candy. No way was he actually going to try getting a genuine gift for these assholes. He sat in his seat as the class started to pile in. 

“Alright class, now that everyone is here you may all hand out your gifts.” Mrs. O’Donnell says, wearing that stupid cursed santa hat.

The whole class starts moving around and Eddie makes his way over to Tina’s desk. He places the bag down without a word, knowing she wouldn’t want to speak to him anyway. Eddie makes his way back to his seat and slouches down into it. He knew nobody would actually care to give the freak a gift, so he reaches into his bag to pull out his notebook full of campaign ideas, deciding to work on that instead. 

From the corner of his eyes he can see the chair beside him being pulled out. To his surprise, it’s Y/N. 

“No way you actually got Tina a gift.” She smirks and sits down.

“Nah, just some candy. Didn't even try.” Eddie says calmly, even though he is internally screaming right now.

Y/N lets out a small laugh in response and then reaches down to her backpack. “Well, in case you were wondering why I’m here, I am in fact your secret santa.” she says as she pulls out a little gift box and then an even smaller gift box sitting on top.

Eddie is in so much shock he doesn’t even respond and lets her place the gifts on his desk. She doesn’t seem bothered by his silence and instead smiles and says, “I didn’t really have the money for an actual gift, so I made you some stuff instead.”

He reaches forward and grabs the smaller box first. He opens up the top to reveal a bracelet made out of guitar strings with some added charms of a skull and spider. “No way. This is so cool!” Eddie says through excitement, nearly jumping out his seat. Some students looked over at his mini outburst, but he couldn’t give a single shit right now. “I thought you might like that.” Y/N says with a grin, happy to see him enjoying his first gift.

“How’d you know I play guitar?”

“Well, it wasn’t hard to guess," she says as she looks him up and down, "but I did see you at the music store in the mall a few weeks ago buying some new guitar picks. That’s what gave me the idea for your next gift.”

Eddie had almost forgotten that there was another gift box sitting in front of him. He slips the bracelet onto his wrist and then reaches to open the other gift box. This time, he was truly at a loss for words. He reached into the box and picked up a little mini bouquet made out of wires for stems and guitar picks as the petals.

“Do you like it?” 

Eddie looks up almost in disbelief, “Do I like it? What kind of question is that? Y/N, this is insane!” He twirls the three flowers in his fingers to inspect them even more. Dark red and blue picks held together by hot glue, and even had some green picks as leaves. 

He looks back up at Y/N, trying to contain his smile, and says, “I have to get you something now. These are way too good for me to not get you anything in return.”

“Eddie, it's fine. It’s a part of the game, you don’t need to get me anything.” Y/N replies, also trying to contain a smile.

“No, that’s so unfair! C’mon, just one gift. I’ll even let you pick. It can be anything, well, almost anything. I’m on a tight budget here, but you get my point.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“How about a date?”

Up until this moment Eddie had never given a damn about Mrs. O'Donnells, but holy shit was he sure thankful for her right now.

"A date it is."

[elumish]

On Radicalization

I'm seeing a lot of people now talking about radicalization (for obvious reasons) and I want to put my two cents into it.

I'm not a radicalization expert by any means, but I have my MA in terrorism studies, and I'm currently pursuing a PhD in security studies, so radicalization is a thing that I have talked/thought about a fair amount.

I think one of the most important things to understand when you think about radicalization is that "radical" and "extremist" are both relative. Generally, when we're talking about radicalization, we're talking about a sharp political shift to a position outside of what we would consider the norm. What's radical in a liberal city in the United States in 2024 is vastly different from both what would have been radical in that city 150 years earlier and what is radical in some other countries right now.

For much of the last 2+ decades (or at least ~2001-2019), most of what was talked about with radicalization was in the context of islamist terrorism/violent extremism. People around the world were trying to figure out why people (especially in Western countries) were joining al Qaeda or ISIS or why people in Afghanistan were joining the Taliban, etc. What was it that drove one person to do that and another person not to--and, what was it that drove one person with those ideological beliefs to commit violence and one person not to.

Right now, in the US, what a lot of people are talking about is why people (namely young white men) are shifting dramatically to the right, particularly socially, and ending up in the political far right. In particular, why are they now advocating for (or at least voting for people who advocate for) taking away rights that are ~50 years old, as well as being more openly white/Christian supremacist than was socially acceptable 25 years ago, and why are some of them committing far right violence?

I think some of the reality that we have to face is that people have been advocating against abortion (and to a lesser degree birth control) access for those entire 50 years, and people have been white/Christian supremacists this entire time, and we just had a brief period of time when it was a little less okay to say out loud. But anyone old enough to remember the Obama campaigns remembers that the opposition to them was virulently racist and Christian supremacist.

But radicalization is happening, so let's talk about some of the ways that it happens in general. None of these are universally true, and what might radicalize one person might not radicalize another.

Social isolation. Social isolation is an extremely common factor in radicalization. Communities generally do two things: they act as a moderating force, and they give people ties that discourage violence. When studying islamist radicalization, from what I remember, conversion was a factor in likelihood of radicalization--not because there is something inherently radicalizing in the act of converting to a religion, but because converts often found resources online or with communities that specifically targeted new people, ones that were less ideologically moderate.

People who convert are also I think in some cases the people who are more likely to be ideologically driven anyway, because it is more work to convert and so you would only do so if you have a stronger ideological belief in it. You see this with some Catholic converts (e.g., Vance)--they are often more conservative and don't necessarily reflect mainstream Catholic teachings because they didn't grow up in a Catholic community as much as intentionally looking for the things that would make them The Most CatholicTM (ironically and hilariously one of those seems to be disagreeing with the Pope, which is approximately the least Catholic thing you can do).

if you have a community, you're generally also less likely to try to hurt people in that community because they're people you care about. Not a universal truth, obviously, but in aggregate. Being in a community also means that there are people who can tell you that what you're saying is extreme and walk you back from it. If you're isolated, nobody will tell you that.

But overall being isolated makes you more likely to feel like nobody likes or cares about you, which can make you angry and disaffected and looking for someone to blame, and it also makes you far more vulnerable to people who are looking to recruit. If you think everyone hates you and then someone tells you that everyone does hate you except for them, you're probably going to listen to them.

Relative depravation. Relative depravation is the idea that the radicalizing factor isn't having nothing, it's having something and seeing people who have more so you feel like you have nothing. I remember this came up when people were studying who in Afghanistan joined the Taliban, and it was often people who were more middle class rather than people living in poverty. The people living in poverty didn't have time to be radicalized because they needed to put food on the table, but the middle class people could see how good other people had it and how bad they had it and it made them mad. (I am vastly oversimplifying a study I remember from 10 years ago--it's a lot more complicated than this.)

But in the US, we're seeing this with men (who have, on an objective basis, lost political power in the US), and with white people (who have, on that same objective basis, lost political power in the US), and with people from geographic regions that used to have much stronger economies and better opportunities but don't anymore (e.g., coal areas, manufacturing areas). They can look at other people (e.g., women, POC) and say "I lost power and you gained power because I lost power, that's not fair and it's hurting me" or "it used to be better but now it's bad, that's not fair and it's hurting me" and then they get mad about it. And some subset of people who get mad about it decide to hurt people over it, or at the very least they vote to try to get it to not be like that anymore. They want to go back, because to them, back was better.

Radicalized education. One of the reasons why white women are so valuable to the white supremacist movement is not just that they can have white children, but that they can teach those white children. Some of this starts at home, or in the schools, or in the churches. And it's not necessarily radicalization if it starts that way (because people aren't moving politically so much as just being), but there are tens of thousands if not millions of children right now who are learning misogynist, queerphobic, and white supremacist ideas in all forms of their education. Those children who learn the benevolent slaveholder narrative or the states rights idea or that Jews killed Jesus or whatever grow up to be adults, and some of them vote, and some of them vote Republican because the ideas Republicans are spouting are the ideas that they were taught.

Suffering under real or perceived oppression. One of the goals of terrorism, in some cases, is to spark an overblown government reaction, which will then radicalize the populace into rising up against them. This is because, sometimes, for some people, that works--some people suffering under oppression or what they perceive is oppression will become increasingly anti-government (or anti-whoever is oppressing them) and that will sometimes turn violent.

The thing to remember here is that oppression is also in the eye of the beholder, to some degree. By the standards of some right-wing Evangelicals, for example, they are oppressed by the secular federal government, which keeps them from practicing their religion in the way that they see fit.

Justice by any means. This isn't exactly a way that people are radicalized, but one thing I see in people I would consider radicalized on basically all ideological fronts is this idea that justice (or winning) should come by any means. You see this in people who burn abortion clinics or kill abortion providers to "save babies" and people who kill cops as a solution to police brutality and people who stone gay people to death. The idea that your ends justify your means is, to me, a core to true radicalism.

The reality is this: if there was one way to stop radicalization, countries would have done it decades ago. Sometimes it's about drawing people into a community, and sometimes it's about getting them out of the community that is radicalizing them. Sometimes it's about being kind or compassionate to a single human being, and sometimes it's about showing them that they are operating against their own self-interest.

And sometimes it's just about damage control and about keeping someone who is already radicalized and looking to do violence from doing violence.

[lonniemachin]

PLEASE HELP MARAH'S CAMPAIGN MOVE FORWARD

This February, Help Keep This Palestinian Family’s GoFundMe From Disappearing

From a friend of Marah's:

Marah is a teenage girl trying to raise funds for the continued survival of herself and her family in Gaza. The resources available to them to take care of each other when they are sick, injured, and malnourished are all expensive in a war zone and Marah, her siblings, and her mother all rely on the funds that come from this campaign to take care of each other.

Unfortunately, Marah’s campaign has frequently fallen stagnant for long lengths of time. Even as she tirelessly reaches out to people on Twitter to share her story and what she and her family are going through, there are weeks where not a single donation comes in and with so much on the line and so much lost this is often incredibly discouraging. To document what she’s going through while it increasingly feels like it might be reaching no one is often incredibly discouraging.

I know right now there are a lot of people who need help, and as more people have turned to crowdfunding over the past year resources have become spread thin. I know choosing between who to support when you have finite resources to offer can feel paralyzing. But I also know that the seemingly small efforts add up to make a difference. they make a difference from everyone, and they can make a difference for everyone. And they can make a difference for Marah and her family, if we promise not to look away.

So this month what I am asking is for you to help me keep this campaign from falling back into days/weeks/months long stagnation. My goal is for every day to be a day with a donation. Even if you can’t donate, please share, please watch out for Marah’s campaign and follow whether she’s received support. On the days that go by where she receives none, please notice this. Please help other people notice this. The most important thing is that when people ask for help, we can hear them.

The last donation to Marah's campaign was 19 hours ago, completing our objective for day 1. Onto day 2!

***This campaign is vetted by association. Marah is a friend of another Palestinian teenager, Deyaa, whose story traveling to the US for medical treatment is well-documented. I personally put the owner of Marah's campaign in contact with Marah when it was being set up, who herself documents she and her family's life in Gaza on her Twitter account @/MarahContact.***

Tagging for reach under the cut.

@90-ghost @nabulsi @feluka @awomanofsorts @watermotif @sayruq @sar-soor @palipunk-blog @irhabiya @wellwaterhysteria @buttercuparry @gothhabiba @khanger @neptunerings @lesbianmaxevans @malcriaada @appsa @dykesbat @dlxxv-vetted-donations @commissions4aid-international @gazagfmboost @palhelp @kibumkim @transmutationisms @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @victoriawhimsey @rhubarbspring @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness

[talia-black]

Mydei x Childe!Reader

The shockingly lack of Mydei x reader so far has driven me from my writing hibernation.

Mostly SFW but there is descriptions of kissing and mentions of a night together.

The vision is if Mydei has a partner like Childe from Genshin Impact (battle-hungry, reckless, but fiercely loyal). Just think this meme.

To start, Mydei is the epitome of a grumpy cat. He never smiles, fiercely rejects any kind of affection from anyone, and heaven forbid you try to touch him. You might lost a limb or two

However, like all grumpy cats, Mydei has a human. One human who he will occasionally tolerate, and if the stars align, allow affection to be administered onto him. He still never smiles though (not where anyone could see him at least)

Now, many would think this human would be some kind of bubbly, innocent presence that gives Mydei refuge from all of the blood and violence in his life. I disagree.

Mydei’s partner lives by motto “Life is too short to not have a good time”

They were the first at the scene of any battle, first to draw blood, and last to leave the battlefield. Many of the soldiers gave them a wide berth, as often they cannot see the difference between ally and enemy when the heat of war distorts their vision.

Even outside of battle they were erratic. Bouncing from one foot to the other at all times, throwing knife after knife into the walls of the Holy City as if they were aiming for someone’s heart, and spoke of killing and conflict like a reputation dripping in enough blood to fill the River Styx was something to aspire to acquire.

The rest of the Chrysos Heirs (mainly Phainon) were shocked to see such a hyperactive and perpetually maniac person always trailing behind the stoic and reserved Mydei.

But any doubts were silenced when they saw them tear one of Nikador’s soldiers in half with their bare hands.

They were another resident of Castrum Kremnos, and while they might not be a Chrysos Heir, they bear their own unique curse. Priests had named them the “Blood-Drunk Sword” at their birth, claiming they were cursed by Nikador to suffer endless bloodlust and would never be able to find satisfaction outside of the battlefield. They could not feel physical pain, and rarely could they focus on anything other than the next fight.

Even still, they still supported Mydei’s campaign against his father. This lead to the two growing close as they were the only one of his soldiers brave enough to challenge him to a spar.

These spars would become the foundation of their relationship. Very few people in Amphoreus could keep up with Mydei, and fewer still were tolerable enough to be worth asking. But secretly Mydei relished in how fun they were fight. They were always trying new weapons, new tactics, even choosing to fight him at a disadvantage simple because they enjoyed the thrill.

While Mydei never officially gave them any kind of official title, his soldiers consider them his second-in command. Any command from them might as well have come from Mydei himself, and should be treated with the same level of respect

They were also quick to rope Mydei into competitions with Phainon, seeing who could behead the most enemies, find the best weapon on the battlefield, etc.

But unlike Phainon, Mydei got a certain thrill out of seeing them soaked in blood. Perched on top of a literal mountain of corpses with an unabashed, feral look in their eyes.

After this happens a couple of times, and Mydei’s desire overrides his sense of propriety and respect for his comrade, he kisses them the second the battle is over.

High on blood and adrenaline, he kissed them with the same force he swung his blade. And just as his partner always met him blow for blow when sparring, they were no less shy in this regard. Nails dug into fresh wounds, teeth tore into lips, and half-snarls were common when either participant had to break their connection for air. An observer might think the two warriors were trying to tear each other apart.

That observer was Phainon. He couldn’t look either of them in the eye for a month after they scared his psyche.

After that violent first kiss (and a night where both parties woke up with twice the amount of injuries as they had the night previously) their relationship settled. For the most part.

Mydei’s lap was now their personal chair. If Mydei was sitting, they were lounging on his thick thighs. Most likely being fed grapes and pomegranate juice by his hand.

Mydei also always had a hand somewhere on them. He now consider their waist and lower back his personal property. Anyone who touched them who wasn’t a healer, even by accident, would be subjected to a death glare that would make even Nikador wither away. And Titans protect anyone that would try and flirt with them. They might find their skulls repurposed as his juice chalice.

As for his partner, they find themselves surprisingly content with the arrangement. For the first time in their lives, they’ve found something that can quiet the raging urge to kill that permeated every waking moment they weren’t fighting.

Mydei’s strong hold stilled their mind, leaving unparalleled content whenever they were cuddled together in their bed or standing side-by-side on the battlefield.

Because they still did that. They had long since vowed to aid Mydei on whatever conquest he pursued, and carving through foe after foe still quenched a sweet thirst that Mydei only slackened.

Still, surely when the Flame-Chase journey came to an end and Mydei was released from his agreement with the other Chrysos Heirs, they would be able to find some kind of peace. Right?

[queenie-ofthe-void]

“Led Zeppelin? Never heard of them,” Steve lies, like a liar. Of course he’s heard of them, thinks maybe Hop’s mentioned them before. Doesn’t really know the band well, and probably definitely couldn’t name a song. But the comment serves its purpose, and the trap is set.

Eddie calls it the Zep Campaign. Every day they’ll listen to one album, and Steve will pick his favorite song from each. Eight days for eight albums. On the last day, they’ll narrow it down to one song to rule them all– because apparently even Led Zeppelin likes the Mordor books Dustin doesn’t shut up about. 

Each day, Steve struggles to pick a favorite. Day four isn’t bad– doesn’t mind a song that is actually called Rock and Roll, which is just a lazy title in his opinion– but they’re only half way through and the songs are all starting to sound the same. An endless stream of too-fast guitar melodies and weird, wobbly sounds he’s sure he’s never heard before. The vocals are his favorite part, but the lyrics are vague and confusing.

Long story short, he’s not a fan.

But this growing thing between him and this ridiculous metalhead is new, fragile. So if it’s important to Eddie, it’s important to Steve. 

“Stevie, we really don’t have to keep doing this,” Eddie concedes. It’s day eight, the final album, and he thinks even Eddie might be desperate to listen to something different. “You’ve listened to every other album and honestly this one is the worst. They were all on drugs, and this isn’t even their sound ya know? Like it’s not even real metal.”

And honestly, Steve does know. He’s been listening to this band for eight days and yeah, all the songs sound the same. But these ones are different. Softer. He’s made it this far, and he’s nothing if not persistent for the people he loves.

Sprawled out on the floor next to the boy he likes, passing a fading joint back and forth, he thinks he can suffer a bit longer. 

“No Eds come on, we’re halfway through anyways. Just flip it over and we’ll smoke while we finish.” Eddie huffs a sigh, but Steve can see the slight uptick of his lips, reminding him of why he’s doing this. He flips the record and crawls back, presses himself flush up against Steve’s side.

The next song is long, too long to keep his attention. They burn down their joint and Steve leans heavily onto Eddie’s open chest. He gets lost staring at the vinyl art. A guy dressed in a fancy white suit sits alone in a dive bar, the only splash of color against a dull background. The bartender looks gruff, like the rest of the bar, making the man stand out even more. He wonders if that’s how he looks posted up at the Hideout during Eddie’s shows. Wonders if he looks just as out of place in Eddie’s life as this man does, even though he looks comfortable there too. 

Eddie shifts his arms around Steve, bringing him back to the present. The song has changed and Steve feels the slow melody wash over him.

“Wait,” Steve cries out, flailing up and out of Eddie’s arms as he registers the new song. It’s soft with a steady beat. It’s got synth-- the sound Eddie told him he likes in pop music. This song isn’t loud and chaotic like the rest. The voice is soothing and the lyrics are mostly simple enough. It’s different, and he can’t believe it but–

All of my love, all of my love

all of my love to you, oh

“This one. I like this song. Like actually like it.”

Eddie sits up and stares at him. He can see the dramatic shock and annoyance on Eddie’s face. But it’s doing nothing to hide his broad smile and shining eyes. 

“Steven. Stevie. Baby, sweetheart, this absolutely cannot be your favorite Zeppelin song. Out of all the songs on all the albums and all the hours of poetic melodies I’ve forced upon you, you choose the most non-Zep Zeppelin song.” Steve laughs sweetly as he watches Eddie fail to keep the glee out of his supposedly annoyed voice.

The cup is raised, the toast is made yet again

One voice is clear above the din

“This song isn’t even metall!" Eddie screeches. He rants and raves, waiving his arms as he regales Steve with all of the reasons he should absolutely not like this one particular song. He's shining with happiness, dial turned up to a hundred and it's all aimed at Steve. He can't help but to gaze back fondly, enraptured in the adorably obnoxious spectacle.

"It’s all synth, almost no guitar because Page didn’t even write this one! He wrote all of them except two songs, Stevie, and of course that’s the one you chose. No one who knows good music even likes this album. It’s not even metal music and honestly I almost didn’t show it to you, that’s how bad it is!” They're both giggling, leaning falling slowly into the other's space. Facing one another, their feet tangled together, Steve twists and pulls on Eddie's rings. Just to touch.

“Well, maybe that’s why I like it,” Steve snarks, taking his hand. “Plus it’s a love song.” Daring to reach out.

All of my love, all of my love, yes

All of my love to you

Eddie’s smile dims a bit, softens at the edges as he grows serious. “It’s not a love song Stevie, not like that.” He’s looking at Steve but he isn’t. Looking past him into the back of his thoughts. “The lead singer, he wrote it for his son. His kid died of some kind of bad illness while he was on tour. Didn’t make it back in time.”

He pauses, and Steve waits. Knows Eddie has more to say, hoping his patience will pay off. Eddie’s sight refocuses and he heaves a heavy sigh. His eyes glisten as they lock onto Steve.  

“My mom used to sing it all the time. While she was cooking, or putting me to bed, or pulling weeds in the garden. She’d sing it constantly. Hell, she didn’t even know all the words, but she’d still try and sing the interludes– ya know, the music between the lyrics.” He laughs lightly, a stray tear just barely hanging on. Steve tightens his grip around Eddie’s hands and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A silent sign of gentle support and encouragement. 

“Sounds like a love song to me,” Steve whispers. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to his forehead and pulls Eddie into a tight hug. 

All of my love, all of my love, to you now

“A love song just for you, from both of us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've always headcanoned that Eddie loves Led Zeppelin, because he plays guitar and loves metal and reads Lord of the Rings so of course he would.

[qqueenofhades]

Not that anything's a for sure bet but my read on the general situation re: Harris-Walz is that there's going to be a lot less headwind to fight for Harris specifically as opposed to Clinton because the amazing right wing media hasn't had twenty years for poison to seep into the layperson's thoughts about Clinton's "worthiness"

Well, that and the fact that the MAGA crowd are just really, really bad strategic planners (especially since a solid 75% of their strategy is "lol we'll just cheat and win it that way, we don't need anything else.") They howled for 3.5 years about how Biden was too old to serve and should step down, and then when he did, they had zero plan how to run against Kamala and Trump is now practically begging Biden to magically get back into the race and save him. They ran an anti-Shapiro influence campaign by encouraging the antisemitic online left and planning to exploit the issue among Democrats divided on Israel/Gaza, then furiously melted down when Walz was picked and had no plan to deal with him either. Fascism is a helluva drug, kiddos. Don't try it at home.

The reason Harris has been able to rocket so high is simple, which is that she's channeling Obama 08 energy in more ways than one. Obama also came onto the national political scene four years before (with his speech at the 2004 DNC) and four years later, he was the party's nominee. It didn't even matter that he was a skinny brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama, because people were so tired of the chaos and war and incompetence of Bush Jr that they latched onto a simple message of hope and change and the historical nature of his candidacy felt like an optimistic risk worth taking. Why couldn't it be time for the first African American president? Yes, of course, there was incredible vitriol and we are still dealing with that backlash in some ways now, but still.

As I have said before, Trump is technically not the incumbent, but the last 8 years have been dominated by his hatred, chaos, division, rage, and treason in a way even Bush could never quite manage, and when people get to that point, there's a lot of coiled-up energy that has at last come bursting out. We needed Biden's old-moderate-white-man cred to defeat Trump as the sitting president in 2020, when most of his worst scandals hadn't even happened yet, but this is not 2020 (or 2016) and the dynamic is different. We are now on offense and playing to win, people have readily and eagerly embraced the absolute god tier karma that would come from a black female prosecutor finally ending the Orange Menace's reign of terror once and for all, and the Republicans are spitting smoke and spinning gears running frantically through their usual tired old stupid cliche attacks. GAY TRANS EVIL BIRTHERISM SWIFTBOAT FOREIGN FAR LEFT COMMIE LIBERAL HEATHEN!! they scream desperately, trying to find something that sticks. Except this time, no matter how hard the corporate media tries to help them out, nobody is listening. Nobody is buying it. We know exactly what BS they're trying and we're just shrugging and going "Yeah, no. Weird."

It absolutely helps that Kamala is not dragging the ball and chain of 20 years of Republican smear attacks, yes. But there are a lot of reasons why the GOP is imploding before our eyes and it's probably now more statistically likely that there is a blue tsunami than it is that Trump wins. I still cannot, CANNOT, believe it has been barely three fucking weeks. If this is a dream don't want to wake up, etc. Let me goddamn stay in this timeline just a little longer. And if we do the work, we can in fact make it that way, and Yeah. Yeah.

[kumkaniudaku]

Spring Semester

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.3k

PREVIOUS

MASTERLIST

Chicago was so much better in the Summer. Had Asia visited when the sun was out, and the sights and sounds of a bustling Michigan Avenue felt like all-consuming magic, she might've changed her tune. Reflecting on the past was futile. Time had passed, discoveries had been made, and a chance to tag along with Savannah and the crew for her first industry conference in the city she might've lived in had things gone differently placed Asia squarely at the intersection of fate and opportunity. 

With a notebook in hand and her partner-in-crime's blessing to ditch part of their packed schedule for a solo mission, Asia sat at the back of a convention center ballroom listening to a young creative take a captive audience through a year's worth of award-winning work. The moderator described him as a promising creative director with a knack for turning cultural insights into resonant campaigns. If given a chance, Asia would've beefed up the fanfare just a bit but understood that to really give him his flowers, you had to know him beyond the office. 

"I imagine a full regional move like this was scary. Now that you're almost two years removed from the shock of it all, how'd that leap of faith propel you forward." A thought-provoking question. Asia couldn't stop herself from leaning in to hear the answer. 

On stage, Kelvin chuckled a bit into the mic. "It scared the shit out of me!" Ever the crowd favorite, his candid joke turned the audience into a giggling group, finally able to shed the uptight corporate image everyone felt obligated to maintain. He followed up. "Sometimes you gotta be a little scared – a little uncomfortable. I was actually really happy where I was before here and almost changed my mind. But, I needed to grow. A person close to me taught me how important it is to do things for your personal growth. It's gonna feel awkward in the moment, but just do it. Nike, I hope you heard that. We're on the same wavelength. Have your people call my people!" 

Pride began to swell in Asia's heart as she listened to Kelvin navigate questions about his craft from all angles. She'd been watching him from the sidelines. A highlight reel of his accomplishments flashed across her LinkedIn almost monthly. On Instagram, she caught glimpses of the life he'd built in the midwest. She knew he enjoyed trips to foreign lands and social events like a rockstar. She'd occasionally congratulate him in a private message, and he'd respond to her in a text to re-emphasize that he wasn't "one of her internet friends." For a few days, they'd pass back and forth surface-level conversation until things tapered off and they returned to their separate ends of the world. It worked for them. Though routine happy birthday and congratulations texts were far from where they'd been, it kept them connected hundreds of miles away. 

Hours later, and finally free from interrogation on the most significant stage he'd ever been on, Kelvin hovered over a curved bar, sipping tequila from a glass and swiping through networking requests on his phone. The last day and a half had brought him a bevy of high-powered faces and names vying for his attention. A particular face with a globally recognized athletic footwear company in her resumé disarmed his senses, preventing him from noticing the body encroaching on his personal space until a careless bump jostled his glass and the contents inside. 

He snapped his head in the direction of the offender with ire in his eyes, only for his eyes to widen when he took a gander at who'd committed the offense. "Asia?" 

"I'm glad you could tell it's me. I lost my name tag from earlier in the day," she joked. 

"Why do you keep trying me like I'm old and senile or something," he laughed. "Come here!" 

Their embrace carried with it grunts of effort and squeals of happiness as they rocked side to side between conference attendees, not caring who they offended in the process. Several seasons and necessary growth kept them apart. A reunion of this magnitude couldn't be contained behind polite handshakes and quiet speech. 

Kelvin pulled away first, lightly positioning Asia further away to get a better look at her smiling face and new haircut. He lifted his hand to trace a Betty Boop-esque swoop on her forehead. "I saw the pixie on IG but, damn. It's way better in person. Look at you growin' up on me." 

"Kelvin, please," Asia scoffed. "I know you not talking. I see you with the grown man watch and glass skin. You better be fine!" Her compliments earned a bashful smile as thanks. "Chicago treatin' you right?" 

"As good as it can. I can't complain," Kelvin shrugged, still grinning. 

Asia nodded and pointed to his glass. "You got time for another one of those with me?" 

He had plenty of time. If not for Asia's emergence from a sea of boring people, he would've slinked out of a side exit and disappeared for the night. Awards season was tiring when he was just a name in a long list of credits thrown online. Now that he was the focal point of every discussion and industry publication write-up, he barely had enough time to relax. As always, though, Asia's smile gave him a little extra boost to stick around for one more. 

Out on the veranda under a setting sun, they stood side by side, joking and laughing without a care in the world. Asia caught him up on the latest office happening, being sure to share that Linda had finally learned to make her own tea and now brought Asia a cup every morning instead. Savannah and Chris still bickered like a married couple. Ty found time to boomerang after Sid's departure left them down an account lead. Kelvin listened with a smile, mostly paying attention but still finding it impossible not to stare at her between stories. 

Asia felt the same. As he updated her on life in the city, she admired how he moved with the confidence of a man on a pre-destined path. He was still sweet and silly, continuing to find inventive ways to pass off a desire to touch as a haphazard, totally innocuous action. She listened intently for any mention of a partner, hoping for the best but preparing for some incredible young lady to appear in one of his stories. When nothing of the sort came through, Asia attempted another method. 

"So, how's it been for you out here? Thinkin' about sticking around?" Asia cooly sipped the last drops of her mocktail while she watched him smirk in her direction. 

"Yeah, I am," Kelvin answered truthfully. "I'm hitting my stride, and I think this is the spot for me until further notice." Following her lead, he tossed back the remaining alcohol in his glass and then shrugged. "But, if you're trying to ask if someone is keeping me out here, no. Six months ago, I would've had a different answer." 

Asia nodded. "That's fair. Me too. Eight months ago, but still. Didn't stick."

"So, you found yourself," he asked, a slight inflection betraying his attempt at indifference. 

"It's a process, but I'm closer than I was before." Asia watched Kelvin nod his understanding, waiting for him to say something to fill the silence. When nothing came except a growing smile, she stepped up. Extending her hand, she waited for him to grab it in confusion. "My name is Asia Scott," she started. "I'm not from here, and I don't live around here, but I think you are…incredible. I've never met anyone like you, and I don't think I ever will. So, if you're free over the next two days, I'd love to take you out and get to know you better. Because I think I look...a lot different outside my work clothes."

Asia's Alicia Keys reference made Kelvin guffaw loud enough to disturb what looked like a very important meeting of minds across the way. He looked back at her with her hand still in his and conceded to the moment. "Okay," he answered, shaking her hand back as if they'd only just met. "I'm free right now. How about you lead the way."

EPILOGUE

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @thevelvetwhispers @wowitsafemale @kindofaintrovert @sexysativa605 @jvzmine19 @turn-thy-paige @lapateeserie @simplyzeeka @supremechae @palmstreesallday @blackmoonchilee @ovohanna24 @prettypynklemonade @gwenda-fav @itsash-okay @sparklytemi @blackchickinthedesert @miyuhpapayuh

[jewreallythinkthat]

This is going to be my last Eurovision post (as I was super ill this weekend so unable to post at the time).

I'm genuinely disgusted by the behaviour of Bambi Thug - frankly, they're living up the the "thug" part of their name quite remarkable well by spearheading the campaign of hate and bullying aimed at Eden. While they have every right to be angry at KAN for the reporting, that doesn't excuse openly stating you cried when Israel got through, and forcing the EBU to move Eden's hotel room because you don't want to be next to her. That's just xenophobic.

The vitriolic joy they took when talking about how the "top six, (((minus one)))" are all pro peace - implying all Israelis thrive off the deaths Palestinians is so unbelievably racist.

Eden was bullied, mocked, and heckled by multiple other performers and not a single one of them faced any consequences, yet Bambi believes that Eden should be personally responsible for the actions of news readers in a different country? Interesting how all Israelis are the homogenised essence of pure evil in their eyes. It's almost like they've been waiting for the moment when they could publicly be an antisemitic, xenophobic piece of shit. I noticed on their Instagram that they never made any statements about October 7th... Shocking 😒.

Frankly Eden has been one of the classiest, most reputable acts this year. The number of other people who have done things that should bring Eurovision into disrepute is much higher - did anyone else notice the Lithuanian act remove Israel from the "how to vote in different countries" thing they posted online? The whole thing was a global display of Israelaphobia that was gleefully celebrated and I find it so reprehensible that not a single one of them was called out for it.

[beedreamscape]

This has to be the last thing I say on C3 finale because otherwise, I will not stop, it simply baffles me in its mediocrity. And obviously, this will be negative, if you loved it, good for you, this is my takeaway as someone who loved this campaign and was severely let down.

This finale changes everything that came before and not for good, better yet, it emphasizes all the faults in the structure of what c3 tried to be, it made most of the campaign feel like a true exercise in futility — How far can we go in a campaign that is meandering and unsatisfying? How long can we have the same discussion over and over and over again despite everyone knowing how this will end? How long can we drag out characters that don't change without anyone noticing? (spoiler everyone noticed)

Can't say I was emotionally invested in the finale because I tapped out back in the 70s, came back for Aeor/Downfall shenanigans, and left again. But in experiencing the finale something became clear to me:

THIS STORY NEEDED TO BE SHORTER.

WITH ANOTHER PARTY AT THE HELM.

If the objective from the very conception of C3 was to wipe out the gods, that had to be clear from the very start. And it wasn't clear, at all — not in the characters, not in the starting city, not in theme. This was a completely different campaign at the start! That clarity was what made Calamity so great, it was short and precise, and every pc SERVICED THE THEME, filled with hubris and contempt, not to mention the setting.

Even Ludinus went in circles for convenience of the campaign length and became a weaker opponent for it, more of a nuisance than a villain. The threat he posed at episode 50 was much stronger than now at 120 something. The battle against Otohan was more nail-biting and emotionally engaging than fighting Ludinus and Predathos, a god eater!!!!

This campaign would've benefited from three to four acts instead of one overarching objective like the past campaigns because urgency is the name of the game and we can't carry urgency for 70 episodes straight (and they didn't).

The constant inclusion of the other parties made it clear how easy it was to detach BH from the story, how easy and fun it was for them to tell it through another party's eyes (one of the main reasons why I walked away back when I did, but that's more of a personal preference).

Which is not to say Bells Hell's didn't deserve a long story! They could very well have existed in a more intimate campaign which these characters were clearly built for! Their premises begged for closer looks in slow moments, something tragicomical, exploration of the inner world while developing MARQUET and its microcosm of injustice and politics which was left in the dust mid-campaign (pun intended).

And I'm not suggesting this just for our enjoyment, I know it's them playing and their enjoyment comes first blah blah, though this is a multi-million company therefore their jobs but this would contribute to their enjoyment! You could see several moments in the campaign how tapped out they felt and acted. I doubt it was "fun" discussing the gods situation ad naseaum, trudging through landscapes they barely cared about, with empty arcs.

I could nitpick every fault I see in the finale but it would be pointless, these issues have been dragged from ages ago and poor character matching, and now this is a culmination of everything and it barely fazes me anymore.

(And yeah it's their game and it's "free", but that doesn't undermine its weight as a story, stories were made be analyzed, and it was a poorly structured one no matter how much I still like and admire them as people.)

WHICH is not to say I had no fun at all ever, I did! several times! and that's what makes me upset, it could've been great instead is just meh.

[poisonkkay]

J — HUMMINGBIRD [cyb77 OC]

Yk what: here's my cyberpunk OC lore cuz I love him lots, anxiety be damned. Most of the 2070 mess comes from my first CybRED campaign, the rest just fitted together like a puzzle the more I kept writing LMAO

— 2070

Netrunner part of a private task force against cyberpsychos (Mar-S), Jay comes from an old nomad clan that fell apart during his teen years. He ended up in NC shortly after that, and there he met his best friend (and doc) Harlow (@plasticsadstick's OC). Before joining the task force in 2070 (together with Harls), he worked for a few years for NCPD and C-SWAT, given his drive to be useful and help others — same drive that made him quit both jobs, given the insane corruption of that system. Already in Mar-S team during the Unification War, he didn't stay there long enough either, quitting after a last, almost-suicidal mission, that damaged him permanently: he ended up with a fucked-up shard in his head that haunts him with not-so-kind voices, almost killed him, and yet he managed to save his teammates and avoid the collapsing of one hell of a breach in the Blackwall of last years — NetWatch had to be involved to solve the shit as well. After that, he just wanted some peace of mind.

— 2071 / 2075

After meeting other runners (including Kiwi, who he has.. things going on) and various mercs, and having lost contact with the whole Mar-S, he starts to work alone and tries to make a name for himself in NC. He doesn't care about fame and glory tho, he is still moved by his strong need for justice: that's why he spends most of the time between 2071 and '74 hunting down many people involved in abuse and SA cases, moved mostly by the discovery of Kiwi's past. This leads to J getting along with the Mox and many dolls around NC. Beside his revenge hunting, he still takes different gigs around town, proving once again his incredible netrunning skills that grant him quite a reputation especially around the Afterlife circles — working also with Rogue.

— 2076 / 2085

After the death of many friends and especially of his beloved Kiwi, it's a fast downfall. He starts digging around the dirt of corporations, killing the wrong people and fucking around with the Blackwall as well, which only gets him the unwanted attentions of both corpos, pigs and NetWatch. He gets tracked down by them around 2080 after many failures, but instead of getting zero'ed, he gets recruited by them — if you can't beat someone, may as well drag 'em by your side. As if shit couldn't get worse, given the death of So Mi of some years prior (King of Cups + Don't Fear the Reaper endings) and the desperate research for a replacement by president Myers herself, in 2082 J ends up forced to work for the government, against his own morals, against all the promises of a new life of years prior — you can leave the corporation, but that life will never leave you, right? — all to protect someone, the only person he still cares about in the City.

That year Jay Welles disappeared without a trace from NC, believed dead. And that year the NUSA gained a new, deadly puppet to use.

// guess I'll meet him again in my next 2085 campaign, yikes? Also the cyberware placements do not follow the cyb77 rules and limits but the RED ones, which allowed more insanity LMAO — I doubt anyone will read this far but any question is welcome <3

[sidekick-hero]

My heart's desire: you

(steddie | 1.7k | mature | written for @steddie-week day 3: holding me by Warlock | AO3)

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Season/Series 04, Eddie Munson as Kas the Betrayer (Dungeons & Dragons), Monster Eddie Munson, Protective Eddie Munson, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eddie Munson Needs a Hug

Eddie never expected much from life, if he was honest.

Sure, once upon a time he had dreams. Big ones. Go to LA, become a rock star, leave this shithole of a town behind. Find his people, a place where he belonged. Not a freak, but someone worthy.

Deep down he didn't really believe they would come true - not for people like him - but it was nice to have them. They helped him fall asleep at night and even more to get up in the morning.

All those dreams bit the dust when he did. The dead don't dream, right?

Right.

It's just that he's not exactly dead. But he's not alive either. So what does that mean for his dreams?

He doesn't sleep anymore. Doesn't need to. Sometimes he manages to drift, his body completely still while his mind is somewhere else.

But when that happens, he's not dreaming. He just remembers.

Remembers his mama and how she used to dance around the house with him to Elvis or Roy Orbison. Blue Bayou was her favorite.

Remembers his father's pale face as he left Eddie behind, running from the law while Eddie stayed behind to take the fall, just because he couldn't let a cop bleed to death because of his father's schemes.

Remembers Wayne, his gruff voice and warm hugs. His unconditional love and unwavering support. The one person who always believed in him, who gave him a home and a family when Eddie had nothing.

Remembers practicing his songs with the boys and endless afternoons filled with music and campaigns and laughter. His own little corner of the world where he was free to be himself, loud and unapologetic.

Remembers Dustin and Mike and Lucas and Erica. Red and Buckley and Wheeler. Their fierce determination, their selflessness, their love for one another. He had been helpless but to join them, even when everything inside him screamed to run, to hide, to never look back.

Most of the time, though, he remembers Steve. Which should be weird, since they only spent a week together, him running from an angry mob, Steve helping him while also trying to save the world. Sure, he remembers the looks they shared, the touches, the pet names, and the flirting. But it was stolen time, stolen moments without real substance - the reckless abundance of someone who never expected to make it out alive.

He didn't. And yet here he stands, hidden among the trees surrounding the Harrington estate, watching Steve through the windows of his kitchen as he makes himself a sandwich.

It's not the first night he's spent like this, and it won't be the last.

Ever since he clawed his way out of the Upside Down, he's been watching over them. His friends, he thinks. They had been his friends. When he was still human. Can you still have friends when you're not alive, or are they like dreams, out of reach when your skin grows cold and your lungs stop breathing?

He doesn't know. All he knows is that when he came back different, wrong, he still had his memories. He remembers the love and affection he once had for them. That's why he watches over them, he tells himself. Because he had loved them once.

A few months ago, when the portals to the Upside Down were wide open, everyone had gathered here at Steve's, so Eddie had been there, too. Not inside the house, of course, but watching. Guarding it.

Not being alive makes him almost invincible. He has claws on his hands and fangs in his mouth. He's faster and stronger than ever. Any monster that tried to sneak up on them was killed in seconds, a few minutes at most. Soon they didn't even try anymore.

It's as if they somehow know that Eddie is the strongest predator around, and that these humans are his.

They defeated Vecna in the end, closing the gates once and for all.

And Eddie is still here. Still not alive.

Still watching over Steve, with the full moon above him and the warm late summer wind blowing through his hair. The clouds covering the moon provide enough cover for him to come closer, still hidden in the darkness as he continues to watch.

Time feels strange sometimes, but he thinks he has been watching Steve for as long as he can remember.

A lonely boy with strawberry blond hair, waiting to be picked up from preschool long after everyone else has left. A gangly teenager on his first day of middle school, looking lost and alone again. The same boy, taller now, finally filling out his form, sun-kissed skin and windswept hair. Popular, attractive, but still lonely deep inside.

The Eddie he had once been had been intrigued by Steve Harrington. The boy had been an enigma, even more so when Dustin and Lucas, and sometimes even Mike, sang his praises as if he were their greatest hero. And then he had seen again and again how badass Steve was, how brave and self-sacrificing. How much he was willing to give for the people he considered his own.

Back when his heart was still beating, it had been beating for Steve. Can you still love someone when your heart is no longer beating?

Eddie doesn't have an answer to that question. All he knows is that the sight of Steve brings a warmth he can almost feel, a flicker of something that might have been hope if he still had the capacity for it. And for now, that flicker is enough to keep him watching, night after night, hidden in the shadows.

Tonight, however, something feels different. Eddie watches as Steve steps out of the kitchen, his eyes scanning the darkness, almost as if he senses a presence. Eddie tenses, ready to retreat further into the shadows, but something holds him back.

Steve takes a few hesitant steps towards the edge of the property, his gaze unwavering. "I know you're out there," he calls softly, his voice carrying a blend of fear and determination. "I don't know who or what you are, but I know you're watching."

Eddie's breath catches—or it would have, if he still breathed. He remains still, his eyes fixed on Steve, who continues to inch closer. The moonlight breaks through the clouds, casting a silver glow over the yard, and Steve's eyes widen as they meet Eddie's.

"Eddie?" Steve whispers, disbelief and something else, something Eddie can’t place, coloring his tone. "Is that really you?"

For a moment, Eddie considers fleeing. Every fiber of his being screams at him to retreat into the safety of the shadows. To hide his monstrous self. But the look in Steve's eyes, the raw mixture of hope and sorrow, roots him to the spot. He steps forward, emerging from the shadows, his form illuminated by the moonlight. "Hello, Steve," he replies, his voice rough from disuse. "I'm... different now, so you be the judge if it's still me."

Steve stares, taking in Eddie's altered appearance—the fangs, the claws, the otherworldly aura. Yet, despite the changes, there's something unmistakably Eddie in his eyes. "How?" Steve asks, his voice breaking. "How is this possible?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I don't know. I woke up in the Upside Down after you all left, not alive but not dead either and clawed my way outta there. I've been watching over you, all of you, ever since."

Steve takes another step closer, his hand reaching out tentatively. "But… Why didn't you come to us? We thought you were gone. I - We missed you. Dustin -"

"I didn't know if you'd accept me like this," Eddie admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not the same person I was. I’m a monster now."

Steve's hand finally makes contact with Eddie's arm, and the touch sends a jolt through both of them. Eddie's skin, cold and unfeeling for so long, seems to come alive under Steve's touch. The sensation is overwhelming, flooding him with emotions he thought he'd lost. "You're still Eddie," Steve says firmly. "And that's all that matters."

For the first time since his transformation, Eddie feels something akin to hope. Maybe, just maybe, he can find a new place in this world, even in his altered state. And maybe, just maybe, he doesn't have to watch from the shadows anymore.

As they stand there, bathed in moonlight and the warmth of newfound connection, Eddie allows himself to believe that he can still be part of something, that he can still matter. And for the first time in a long time, he feels a glimmer of peace.

But more than peace, he feels a longing, a deep-seated yearning that he can no longer ignore. The way Steve looks at him, with such trust and acceptance, stirs something inside Eddie that he thought was long dead. He realizes that he's not just watching over Steve out of a sense of duty or lost affection; he's watching because he still loves him, with a love that doesn’t need a beating heart to stay alive.

"Eddie," Steve whispers again, his voice softer now, filled with an emotion that Eddie can't quite name but feels deep in his bones. "Stay with me. Don't disappear again."

Eddie's heart, or whatever remains of it, aches at Steve's words. He wants nothing more than to stay, to be close to Steve, to feel that warmth he's been yearning for. He’s been so cold for so long. "I'll stay," Eddie promises, his voice trembling with emotion. "For as long as you'll have me."

Steve's eyes shine with unshed tears as he pulls Eddie into a hug, their bodies fitting together as if they were always meant to. In that embrace, Eddie feels more alive than he has since he died.

And so, under the silver light of the moon, Eddie and Steve stand together, holding onto each other with a love that defies the boundaries of life and death. For the first time, Eddie dares to believe in a future where he doesn't have to hide in the shadows, where he can be with the person he loves, and where he can finally find a place to belong.

As long as Steve is willing to hold him like that, he doesn't need to be alive. All he needs is to be here in Steve’s arms.

[tkachuktkaching]

Matthew Tkachuk returns to Edmonton as Public Enemy No. 1

Tkachuk spent the first six seasons of this NHL career with the Calgary Flames, combating in the Battle of Alberta, the decades-spanning rivalry in which the Flames and the Edmonton Oilers would bludgeon each other to the delight of neighboring fan bases. It's a feud that stands next to any geographic rivalry in sports based on its championship prestige, Hall of Fame talent and unwavering vitriol.

Tkachuk remembers those rivalry games well.

"I guess I know them more than probably most guys by playing in Calgary," Tkachuk said. "But we just had the one playoff series against them that they won, and played a bunch in the regular season. There's a lot of different guys over there now."

Calgary traded Tkachuk to the Panthers two years ago. He has returned to Edmonton twice since.

"I know last year I was booed every time I touched the puck. This year there was nothing, so I have no idea this time," he said.

How close did Tkachuk come to becoming an Oiler? Four years ago, he told TSN Radio that they appeared ready to draft him before Dubois went to Columbus.

"During the draft, on the draft floor, it was kind of a weird moment where some people at the Edmonton table -- you could ask them, they would probably deny it -- but they're kind of staring me down and kind of giving me some smiles. The only people that saw it were me and my mom. So we're like, 'All right, we're going to Edmonton,'" he said. "Then Pierre-Luc Dubois went third overall, and the phone started to ring like crazy at the Edmonton table. They threw the jersey under the table and it looked like they stripped off a name and gave it to Puljujarvi with the next pick."

Tkachuk was drafted sixth overall by the Flames. The rest is (alternate) history.

TKACHUK SAID HE HAD "kind of like a Christmas Eve feeling" before the Stanley Cup Final, giddy with anticipation for trying to win the Cup after the Panthers lost in the championship round last season to the Vegas Golden Knights.

When asked about the Oilers, there was no trash talk, no bulletin board material.

"They're a great team. Finally got to watch some of their games against Dallas, since we were playing every other night. It was good to watch their games," he said. "They played really well and ultimately deserved to win the West. It should make for a great final."

After Florida went up 2-0 in the series with its Game 2 victory, Tkachuk was asked if the Oilers were rattled.

Again, he deferred.

"No, I don't think so. It's just sometimes the way it goes," he said, before leaving the media scrum.

The story of Matthew Tkachuk vs. the Edmonton Oilers is also a story of a young, brash superstar at the apex of his brashness who says he's a much different player today. Tkachuk speaks with pride about what he perceives to be the Panthers' maturity as a team and his own discipline on the ice, in contrast with how he'd played in the Battle of Alberta, for example.

"I'd say that used to be a part of my game. Now it's pretty nonexistent," he said. "I've kind of learned what works, and what works is playing as hard as I can for 30 to 45 seconds -- well, sometimes I take the long shift, so 30 seconds to a minute. There's no need to waste your time doing extra stuff."

Panthers coach Paul Maurice has cited the 26-year-old Tkachuk's maturity throughout the season, starting with how he approached this campaign after Florida's stunning run to the Stanley Cup Final last season.

Maurice said Tkachuk was part of the leadership group that got the Panthers locked in to their defensive game this season, which was a byproduct of missing Aaron Ekblad and Brandon Montour at the start of 2023-24 after surgeries. He said Tkachuk's attitude from the start of training camp help set the efficient, business-like tone of Florida's approach.

"Last year, I think we were just kind of riding the wave," Tkachuk said before the conference finals. "Going into this, we know what it's going to take to ultimately come out on top."

Tkachuk is tied with Aleksander Barkov with 19 points to lead all Panthers scorers. He hasn't had the soaring moments as regularly as he did last playoff run.

But Maurice is confident that Tkachuk is still capable of them.

"His game is better. He's more disciplined. He's matured with this group over two years. I think he's ... primed," the coach said. "I would never bet against him coming up with some heroics, but it's certainly not the only thing we have to expect now when we come to the rink from him."

Article taken from espn.com I Photos : Getty Images

[bringcal]

This was inspired due to wolfertinger666's post I've just reblogged, and will be a long one, but bare with me here.

I been on the internet like way too long and too young for my age, and I never understood spreading callouts. I don't think I ever have in my life. Before I even understood them as a tool used to socially kill trans people and push an agenda of anti-queerness, I always just thought the contents tended to be stupid, and vast majority of callouts often like to use different manipulation and deception tactics that the average person can easily be manipulated by. I think most abuse survivors can agree with me here that they have at least seen one callout in their lives where they have read and easily recognized what the person spreading the callout was doing was emotional manipulation.

I have always been that person who reaches out to the person subject of the callout to help them, and I've always been disgusted in the anti-critical thinking and pro-harassment sentiments surrounding callouts, because those are the exact same things that I've been subject to after being in an abusive relationship online.

When I talk to people victims of callouts, they often have the same fears as I do due to me being in an abusive relationship: Paranoia people are stalking you, not feeling safe to share anything, having to change identities to get away from the harassment, etc. And thats because people who make callouts and create harassment mobs use the same abuse tactics. I had to delete all my accounts, change names, interests, and stay off the internet for months to try and get away from my abuser, because he would stalk me and get others to do the same, and convinced everyone that I was the one being shitty. I stayed paranoid, and sometimes still do, that I will be "found" and messaged again even though its been 6 years since we broke up.

When you have experience yourself in this sort of thing, you realize people who change their identities to get away from callouts aren't trying to "get away" due to nefarious reasons. they just want to live and grow, they want an actual support system and to be better, and never consented to their faults being publicized, and a lot of the time their faults being put on them have never even happened, or are blown out of proportion. It started to click when you realize callouts often try their best to dehumanize the person at hand, and really try to hammer in the " born inherently evil" or "too far gone" point to get people to socially outcast their victims. It often works even with people who would normally be against that sort of thing, I notice a lot of people end up deleting the callout they helped spread later saying they don't actually care or realize how ridiculous the op is being, without realizing the op still got what they wanted. Callouts only spread if theyre able to get you to that " reactionary " level of emotion to manipulate you to just doing anything.

People don't realize that the thing theyre doing actually has lasting effects on the other person. The thing you reblog that you care about for 2 days and then forget will follow the other person forever, because TERFs and Kiwifarms motherfuckers are a different breed of passionate for harassment. My IRL bestfriend I've known for a decade has a girlfriend who made a joke 6 years ago that went viral that everyone took seriously and she still, to this day, gets messages harassing her. The joke wasnt even offensive or directed at anyone, people literally just hated her because she was a communist.

So anyways, I don't like callout posts and neither should you. Make no exception. Literally just keep it to yourself and gossip with friends. Reactionary harassment campaigns do nothing. You're one "fuck up" or one "walking into the wrong person" to getting one yourself. Don't allow callout makers to turn your brain off.

[sapphanimates]

SapphAnimates Art Recap 2024!

Calling it a little bit early, but here's a quick recap of my art progress for the year ^^

JANUARY

My Alacrity AU designs for Team Chaotix! Espio was one of the new designs I was most proud of at the time (despite the fact I ended up slightly modifying it later on). Hence why I chose him to represent January!

FEBUARY

THIS IS IT. THE ORIGINS OF SASHA. A Sonadow fankid I originally made just for shits and giggles, as many other creators were making them at the time, has slowly evolved over the year to become a pseudo-face for the blog! I wouldn't be where I am right now if you guys hadn't loved her as much as I do, and I'm super grateful for all of your support! Stay tuned for more Doom's Child AU news!

MARCH

Warrior Cats designs! These are some Medicine Cat/Healer designs for fun, though it did push me into a short era of drawing a lot of warriors stuff. I think most of my March was dedicated to Warriors content, actually...

APRIL

I like garten of banban. I needed to share my concept for a darker, psychological horror type of banban story, with a hint of infection au in there as well. please forgive me.

MAY

The end of the Sasha's run in the Sonic Fankid Showdown hosted by @head---ache . She didn't last very long, but the support behind our campaign was insane. Same goes for Zayne's run in the second Showdown. Thank you all so much!

JUNE

I did a "Six Fanarts" Challenge, featuring a mix of Warriors and Sonic characters, this one in particular featuring Sonic, Tails, Shadow, Tangle, Yellowfang, and Breezepelt. Shadow was my favorite from the group, with the bright yellow moon in the background and new Doom Wings (the Doom Powers were recently announced at the time).

JULY

Drew some of the horror adjacent Tails designs from some of the zones in my Project Alacrity AU. Ojo, Maggie, and Tailtrap playing Operation together and failing miserably at it :]

AUGUST

Some scrapped art from an animated shorts compilation video I posted on my YouTube Channel! It features some of the main characters, namely Fallen Leaves from Warriors, a Floragato from Pokémon, and a Mimic and Blarret from My Singing Monsters. Please go check out the video if you haven't yet!

SEPTEMBER

September means school, and school means teachers. And I've never met a more wackjob teacher than my current Chemistry teacher. This picture was one I did as a "Get to Know You" project on the first day of school. Labcoat Sapph.

OCTOBER

My first self assigned school art project, and a photography one! A multimedia picnic, a clay frog, a paper doll coati, and a portrait of a ghostly cat-woman, all sharing a lovely shoo-fly pie. Each character was created in a different medium, and the final photo was taken in my grandmother's backyard.

NOVEMBER

Part of a community challenge spurred by @yourpalsalamander . Asha in Wonderland needed a high af caterpillar, and who better to fill the role than Sasha. Just uh... don't touch her shrooms.

DECEMBER

Mlp horror AUs have had a small comeback lately, mostly on TikTok, but I wanted to throw my hat in the ring and create new evil versions of the entire Mane 6. I haven't come up with a design and concept for Rarity yet, but I've had a great time developing the rest of them! I'd love to turn it into a video series if you guys are interested in hearing my thoughts.

See you all next year! Template is by @zontarzon

[u-reblogged-a-scam]

Do not donate your money to, or reblog any posts from, @/ craftyangelcollective bc they are a scammer. Take down any of your reblogs if you haven’t already done so.

Man, it's been a minute since a scammer reached out to me; I've gotten so used to only seeing real campaigns in my inbox, I started wondering if I'd never receive another scam message. Alas, I was wrong.

This is normally where I'd provide a checklist of common red flags I noticed, but instead, I'll just show you what I found when I put the photo of the girl OP provided through RIS:

The first link that RIS provided led to this post, which is a reblog of another diabetic fundraiser that originally belonged to "pinkkidcreator" (who's currently deactivated. How interesting.)

Notice how they use the exact same photos as OP? And that the words they use are exactly the same? And how the text in both the linked post as well as OP's post is multicolored, despite how out of place that is for a presumably serious request for help this is supposed to be? (It's not uncommon for fundraising posts to use color to bring attention to their campaign, but most of the legit posts stick to one color per line, not one color per word or per letter; that's something I've only seen on scam posts, like the ones pictured below ⤵️)

Also, peep the name used for their empty PayPal account (which is always included in scams like these) that someone else linked in the notes: "Eunice Odira". How coincidental that the person using the same photos as OP is also named "Eunice", even though they have different last names for some reason. However, they way OP writes their name in their own empty PayPal, “eUnice'margwel'”, is a rather odd way of writing a name, isn't it? Not only is it odd, it's actually something I've noticed in names used in scams I've called out previously (such as the example in the screenshot pictured below, which is from the post in the link I provided ⤵️)

Never trust a donation post linked to an empty PayPal account unless said link has been verified by a trusted source

Here’s an additional resource to help you spot the red flags of scams moving forward:

And here are some posts that go a little more in-depth about the scammers that have been repeatedly spotted:

Tagging everyone I can in the notes of OP's post, as well as the notes of the reblog I found through RIS. If anyone who sees this can reach out to those in the notes I didn’t tag and let them know this is a scam, that’d be really helpful not just for me, but for them as well.

@mayhamster @cherrysmokesaconha @starrystrashhouse @blu3bell3 @cryoturret @starry-skies-116 @meeks-just-wants-to-scroll @jordie-the-shorty @jaygarrick256 @oldeubagel @tenitempo @fishpawws @yuisdad @annadeef @lauramaymin @the-icarustoyourcertainty @leighlew3 @poseyukimura @the-mechanical-angel @aeliem @icky-flix @jemichi90 @k-n0v4 @sebby-sama @nolocationn