#but the thing is how do i want to approach this? there are so many different ways

[wolfiwonderer]

Yes and... This is worrying that prevents action. If you're worried about giving to the homeless, there are many other approaches you can try to address the problem (I give to a low income housing initiative instead because I think it will have a bigger impact). If you are concerned about all those approaches, you can fund studies that examine the problem and produce reasonable analysis as to the effectiveness of different approaches. (Give Directly did a great study on cash transfers in rural isolated impoverished areas)

I stop believing someone when they have Concerns but then refuse any attempt to address them. Or they are Concerned because of vibes even when there's plenty of evidence to the contrary.

The other tactic to Concerns is the "what do we do in the meantime" approach. If I have to have an opinion on it, then I am concerned about how gender identity is discussed and the impact of performance altering hormones in sports (like testosterone whether it is produced by the body or artificial) and the underlying philosophy of what it means to try to segregate competition by gender as we do (what does fair competition even mean given all we know about the body now). The difference is how I think someone should be treated while we're figuring these things out - which in this case is to allow children to do whatever sports they want, with the right supervision (frankly gender has nothing to do with asshole behavior in a changing room, so we should not be okay with harassment whether is girl-girl, boy-boy, or trans-not trans).

The last tactic I see in Concerns is focus. The trans issue gets tons of (typically negative) attention while people die from lack of basic medical care. I remember a girl died of pig flu while I was in college. She had just graduated and didn't go to the hospital because of lack of insurance. This was before Obama extended coverage into twenties. We (because we all subsidize education) spent $200k educating her and then threw it away because we didn't want to spend $1k keeping her alive. Why tf does anyone who isn't directly affected care a whit about trans kids in sports when we have bigger problems weighing us down? Priorities! Let's maybe work on stopping teen suicides before we worry about which teen is winning first place in a mostly meaningless competition?

Recently we had a debate in my urbanist group about ebike speeds. A person was concerned that we might turn off someone who would support bike lanes because of not responding to their Concerns about ebike speeds being unsafe for walkers and other bikers. I don't know if you know this, but cars are fucking dangerous, and I don't give a shit how fast your 50 lb bike is going, it is not as deadly as a literal ton of metal, even if those 2000lbs are "only" going 20. The person who had Concerns about how they would totally support making the city accessible to bikes, but what about protecting people from fast ebikes and truly defining when an ebike is a bike and when it's a vehicle - they are never going to get over that Concern. It is a distraction technique to make us stop fighting for change in our city. When we give the Concern the time of day, we have already lost.

[tan1shere]

I know you aren't taking requests right now BUT could we have a series of the each billie era and what shes like? Maybe next could be wedding related or something?

HOW EACH BILLIE ERA IS

WEDDING EDITION !

A:n: ooooou I'm actually down for this ! Yes my requests are closed but idm making this a series :)

-I wont do green cuz I mean, I don't see her wanting that at 18 ?-

BLONDE

~PROPOSAL~

♡ neither of you saw it coming. The coincidence of the events of your date night. She was looking at you a certain way, but you too were doing the exact same thing. You personally didn't want to be traditional at all so you began to speak.

"Billie." You began. She looks into your eyes. She's the one to grab your hands, which surprises you because you were just about to. "I just wanted to say that you mean the absolute world to me, and over the three or so years we've been together-" You ramble but avert your eyes as you feel one of her hands moving, she keeps it in her pocket. Strange. "I've fallen deeply inlove with you." You finish, going to your jacket pocket. Only when you turn back around there it is, a box in her hand. She starts to laugh noticing what you're doing. You were in shock, you thought you had been so slick with it. "I guess were both saying yes then." You smile so wide as she says that.

♡ you two go home giggly so genuinely excited to start this new chapter. Ready to tell everyone you loved about it. Already thinking of the planning as you freak out easily.

"We got to make sure everything is on time, setting a date- and!" She grabs your hands. "Let's not think about things too much right now. I know you, you're going to stress before it even begins." You relax at her words.

♡ going back to that you'd tend to worry constantly, and she was very aware of this. She was so soft with you, assuring. You were glad it was her you were marrying.

~ENGAGEMENT~

♡ the process was pretty smooth, planning everything, you wanted it to be as beautiful as your love for one another, classy at the same time. The venue was beautiful along with the other added accessories.

"This is the one." You say in awe as you finish the tour of the last venue. Billie nods. "I agree. This is beautiful." Her smile was so wide as she looks at you, lovingly. Your heart melts.

♡ you, Billie, and Claudia go shopping for dresses, having a day of it. Considering you were both wearing them it was going to be alot easier. You were both so glad when you find the right ones.

♡ when you wanted to tell, Maggie and Patrick it was the best time when they invited you for dinner to do so. You were all sitting together just the 4 of you. Chatting, when you grab Maggie's hands gently.

"I- we. Wanted to tell you both something." Billie smiles like crazy, excited for their reaction. Maggie's eyes wander to your hands looking at your ring finger, then instantly back at you. "Oh my god!" Maggie says excitedly. "This is the best news ever!"

~WEDDING DAY~

♡ everything was bright and beautiful, so many guests, the day couldn't be more perfect. Everything planned just the way it was meant to be. You both decided to wear the most beautiful dresses, instead of one waiting at the end you both walked down the isle linked together. Everyone was in awe.

♡ the beautiful music played quietly in the back. Capturing how elegantly beautiful this was. You said a few words to one another before kissing eachother sweetly. Softly. This was the best day you could've ever dreamed of.

BLACK W BANGS

~PROPOSAL~

♡ Date night, except they were all in on it. Billie had asked Claudia to drive you to this secret destination, not expecting such a big event to unfold. Once you two got to the beach you spot her. Seeing something in the sand as you approach.

"Oh my god." You bring your hands to your face. You immediately nod at the words ingraved, running towards her and hugging her, Finneas was there with her. Most likely telling her not to worry. Seeing how anxious her face looked. But as if you'd say no. You look back at Claudia, showing off the ring. "Told you." Finn says to Billie, she nods with a sigh.

♡ they ended up leaving a few hours later once they took some photos. You and Billie stayed on the beach watching the sun set in eachothers company.

~ENGAGEMENT~

♡ you both agreed with eloping, just the two of you. So there wasn't much to plan.

"Just want it to be us. Just you and me." Her hands reach out to your face as you lay next to her. You nod. "That sounds amazing." She leans in to kiss you. "And if my parents are upset about it we will throw a tiny one afterwards." You nod. "Sounds like a plan." You both look at one another lovingly.

♡ they were happy for the both of you, not at all bothered that you two just wanted to spend it by yourselves.

"I couldn't agree more." Maggie says lovingly towards you two. "Most of your lives are for everyone else to see. Let this one have more meaning." You nod. "It's not everyday you get married." She finishes.

~WEDDING~

♡ and that's what you did, everything was so casual. You wore a cute white dress, and like most times. Billie wore an oversized white shirt a black tie and some comfortable black pants. Everything was so calm.

♡ after the little event, you two found a little hotel to stay at for a week or so. Ignoring everything around you guys. You were both just laying in bed, in a comfortable silence. Your eyes were glued to your hand, the ring being small and simple but you loved it. She smiles at you, you haven't stopped looking at it since the day.

"When we get home I'll get you a better one." She pipes up. Your head whips in her direction. You shake your own. "Are you kidding? No, I love this one." You say grabbing her face. "It's absolutely perfect everything about this is." She smiles more. "Are you sure? I'm more than capable." You smile at her. "You could get me a ring made of candy and I'd look at it the exact same way."

RED ROOTS

~PROPOSAL~

♡ you two were at a friend's wedding funnily enough. She had talked with the bride into giving you the bouquet when it was time for it to be thrown.

"Oh this is so exciting, she's going to love it!" Your mutual friend beams. "I hope it goes well." She nods to Billie. "It's going to be amazing." She reassures Bills.

♡ As your friend was getting ready to toss it, she turns around walking towards you handing it to you.

You look at her confused. "What're you doing-" Then you saw Billie coming into view getting on one knee. "Billie wh-" You were dumbfounded, was this actually happening. "Y/n, will you marry me?" You stood there for a moment at the initial shock then nodded. "Yes ofcourse I will!" She stands up, putting the ring on your finger and kissing you. Everyone around you cheers.

~ENGAGEMENT~

♡ this wedding will be chaotic but so much fun. Like a huge party. More fancy but definitely party like.

♡ you had both agreed on a small party before the wedding, like a hens do. But for both of you. Everything was awesome, the people the vibes.

Billie makes a form of noise to get everyone's attention. "Excuse me everyone. I'd like to toast this to my beautiful bride to be." She grabs your hand, getting you to stand. Her arm links around your waist pulling you close. "I get the privilege of having this woman for the rest of my life. And I can't quite fully believe it." She says looking into your eyes. "Well believe it because youre stuck with me." She smirks at you. "I can definitely live with that."

♡ you didn't plan too much, you hired a dj for after the ceremony, a photo booth. And some other little activities.

~WEDDING~

♡ and the day had finally arrived. You hadn't gone with anything traditional. Apart from one thing that'll happen later. She was wearing a black suit with a red tie, making her roots stand out like crazy. As you walked down the isle you wore a white dress, but it had a few different pops of color in it. Making it still look beautiful and fun. She couldn't believe her eyes at all.

♡ after the vows and I do's you all headed inside the venue to have so much fun. The dj blasting music everyone sprinting to the photo booth. You actually had zero idea of what Billie had in store. A traditional act that is.

"Come sit." She says grabbing your arm. You look at her confused. She had been talking to the dj about playing a specific song you had noticed, because it starts playing as soon as you sit. "Attention everyone." She smirks. You look up at her as she gets on her knees in between your legs. "Billie what-?" You say still confused. She grabs your dress lifting it over her head. Ohhh so that's why she had gifted you that garter. You should've known shed do something like this. The garter toss, she was going to toss it to all the people on her side. Her face goes near your thigh, her teeth gripping it and successfully taking it off. She tosses it and you never thought of who would catch it but it was Finneas. You look over at Claudia cheering with her. Meaning she was next.

BROWN

~PROPOSAL~

♡ both of you had been talking about marriage alot recently so it wasn't as of a surprise when she did what she did. It was the last show in LA and she was nearing the end. You were backstage with Finneas. And you had no idea he was in on it also.

♡ Billie was doing her little thanking part, her family, the opener. And then she pauses. You watch her on the screen in the back. Confused.

"And to the most important one, especially tonight my beautiful girlfriend Y/n. Could you come out here babe." You furrow your brows as you're being pushed by him. "What? Why?" He smiles. "Now that'll just ruin it all, go go." You reluctantly go up on the stage seeing millions of people. You're a bit shy but as soon as you're next to her your nerves ease. She grabs your hands. "I've loved you for many years now. And I want to keep doing so. I'm committed to you. And I don't need to do this since you know how much I adore you. But i want to. So, will you make me the happiest girl ever, even more so. And marry me?" Everyone gasps, and it doesn't even take you a second before you're nodding saying yes. The whole stadium cheers loudly.

~ENGAGEMENT~

♡ it was just before tour started again in the new year. You two had luckily a year to plan it, having it at the end of the year for a beautiful winter wedding.

♡ it was hard for the first few parts seeing as she was touring and you were busy planning the small meaningful event. She'd call you nightly, catching up on what you had done. She quoted. "I'm happy with anything you choose"

"Soo what have we accomplished on the wedding board today." She says throught the phone. Her hair was back as she was getting ready for bed and wanting it out of her face. "My dress." You smile at her, so giddy. "It's hanging up." She smiles at you. "Show me show me!" You get up, placing the phone in a position where she can see it fully. You grab it and put it against your body. "You likeeee." Her eyes take it in. "It's perfect. Just like you." There was a soft silence. "I miss you." She then says. "I miss you. So much." Your lips turn pouty slightly. "Few more days my love then we can hug, kiss. More than that." She smirks and winks making you giggle. "Anything else to be done?" "Yes, the venue but I want to do that with you when you're back." She smiles. "Yes ofcourse, but you know I'd be happy with your pick." You nod. "I know, but this is our, wedding baby." She blows you a kiss. "I love you, sleep well yeah? I'll text you in the morning." You nod again. "I love you too, talk tomorrow bub."

~WEDDING~

♡ it was a week before her birthday, her words "best early birthday present." You were getting ready with Claudia.

"You look amazing." She says. You turn towards her. "I'm a little nervous." She tilts her head. "Really? You've been so excited." - "And I still am ofcourse I'm marrying the woman of my dreams. I just- I hope everything goes well." She smiles. "It will." You then look to see the door being opened seeing its Billie. "You can't see me before the wedding!" Her brow raises. "I've seen your dress already." You had forgotten. "Well- yeah true. What's up?" She smiles coming over to you, you watch as Claudia gives you some privacy. "Just wanted to get a different reaction before I see you out there. Knowing my parents are watching." She grabs your hand and turns you around, wolf whistling. You chuckle noticing her eyes go all over your body. "Glad to get that out of your system?" You say amused. "Hold on I'm far from finished." She grabs your face and kisses you with such passion, tongue. Heat. "Couldn't do that infront of them either, could I?" You both laugh.

Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu @dollarbils @sweetcherriexs

[the-littlest-goblin]

As I’ve alluded to, I think a lot of the failures of c3 can be traced to the fundamental gap that, in a plot where so much revolved around “”the gods”” CR never answers the question:

What the fuck is a god?

Others have made excellent points in how we talk about epic fantasy and the difficulties in fully receiving a world where gods definitively exist. What's interesting to me is that, if you really want to get deep into the philosophical weeds (and I always do), then what does it actually mean when we say "gods exist" in Critical Role?

Disclaimer: this isn't exactly as comprehensive as I would like but what I hoped to articulate in one meta post is more like 2-5 thesis proposals in a trench coat, and I still want the catharsis of yeeting my thoughts into the void so I can finally take a nap. I tried to limit the academia of it all but there's still plenty of jargon, and also a bibliography because I like to show my work.  

Short version: Godhood/divinity is a semantic lacuna in the CR's worldbuilding. That's not a bad thing, in fact it's kind of necessary. The problem arises when the plot makes gods and godhood a central problem without resolving or even acknowledging the barriers to understanding those concepts, thus leading to hours of dialogue, plot beats, and a supposedly climactic resolution which all amount to nonsense if you look too closely.

As anyone who’s so much as dipped a toe into philosophy will tell you, you gotta define your usage of terms or the discussion is DOA. On all levels of CR text, words like "god"/"the gods"/"divine"/"deity"/etc. are used interchangeably in so many contexts, and the meaning of those terms is only accessible via contextual implication, and the deducible meanings in so many of those contexts directly contradict each other. C3 especially reveals a dissonance between how the mytho-cultural text approaches divinity compared to the contours drawn by the mechanico-ontological text.1

The former in Exandria refers to "the gods" in terms of the Pantheon, a definite collection of individual entities. These otherworldly beings of Tengar, a realm of pure possibility. But "god" is also a rank within D&D's cosmic taxonomy—a rank to which, in Exandria, other entities can rise via the Rites of Ascension. The Matron is a god same as the others; Tharizdun is part of the pantheon but separate, not of Tengar. Maybe a "god," maybe not?

In the mytho-cultural role "the gods" play in Exandria, their being-qua-being is positioned as necessarily plurally defined and unknowable, but nevertheless possessed of immense "cosmic power" befitting their role in the Creation myth and ongoing worship. It makes perfect sense that the in-world mythology is (intentionally) plural and contradictory. However, as others have pointed out,* Exandria's socio-political and cultural worldbuilding vis a vis religion are (less intentionally, I would imagine) rather underbaked, leaving significant gaps in our understanding of what the gods (and religion) mean for the cultural part of mytho-cultural. 

Now let’s get into the latter. Because CR isn't just a narrative—it's a ludonarrative, and the game mechanics have huge ontological implications.1 

In the mechanico-ontological sphere, the gods are positioned as sort of exceptions to the rule, by which I mean, like, we don't get stat blocks for deities. Which again, on its own, makes perfect sense! D&D focalizes the PCs, and so on the purely mechanical level, gods/the divine are subordinate, acting only through proxies. This is necessary for the game-narrative D&D supports. Giving god-level power explicit stats would be a catch-22:

first, it would severely demystify "cosmic power"—to define is to limit, after all. Not doing so can imply an ontology where gods are not confined by mechanics—their powers go beyond, their powers are not only unwritten but unwriteable.

secondly, if the rulebooks were to even attempt codifying mechanical abilities on par with the semantic associations of “god-level” power, then it would be very difficult to maintain either the PCs focal role as agents of the narrative or a fairly balanced game, much less both. We saw this play out in Downfall—the point of the mechanics in the final battle outlined the huge disparity between mortals and gods.

Speaking of Downfall—as well as their mechanic and mythic existences, the gods also exist on the narrative level as characters. As such, we must necessarily consider questions of agency and consciousness in qualifying their existence, but fuck if that isn’t a messy question on the one layer, let alone putting it in the contexts of these shifting, intersecting layers.2 Keeping it brief though, the gods’ narrative agency is subject to similar issues as their mechanical powers.**

Being an exception to the rules of mechanico-ontological existence only holds together so long as divinity remains separate from everything governed by mechanics when mobilized in a narrative. I'm not trying to nitpick—Matt's "NPCs are not governed by the same rules as PCs" MO isn't automatically world-logic breaking, and there's a degree of pedantry on that front that is simply unsportsmanlike. But the problem in c3 specifically is that the plot focalizes the gods and divinity as a construct in such a way that invites—demands even—closer inspection. And the coherence between the structural layers of the narrative breaks down quite quickly under this scrutiny.

It's not like c3 brought this theme out of nowhere. Disproving that there is any essential divide between gods and mortals defines the zeitgeist of the Age of Arcanum. The Matron’s ascension proves that, however the difference is defined, the state of being one or the other is traversable. Exu: Calamity brought this up plenty: Laerryn contends that the distinction is access to the Celestial plane, and seeks to dissolve the difference by achieving large-scale interplanar travel for all of Avalir; Zerxus embodies that so called "divine magic" is not strictly tied to a worshipful relationship with a deity.

In c2, god-or-not is a huge element of Jester's arc with the Traveler. Her build shows that, despite the very different class abilities/powers of warlocks and clerics, there is no mechanico-ontological constraining the distinction between a warlock patron and a god. These are roles defined through a relational existence, not in keeping with any essential taxonomy of substances.1 The Traveller’s position in the cosmic taxonomy as an Archfey has less bearing on the type of magic he can grant than the belief and conviction on the side of the grantee. Similarly, there’s the Luxon in all its mystery—a god but not a pantheon deity? Divine but not a god? The semantics seem less and less significant. 

Now’s probably a good time to remember that CR is a story, and stories are representative constructions wherein any logic other than narrative logic is secondary. D&D as a story engine allows fictional representation to evoke a unique facsimile of materialism because the diegetic laws of physics are established in such detail via mechanics. But still, in a fictional world, metaphysics kind of are physics, and also kind of are semiotics, and both answer to the symbolic. It's fun (for me) to dig into the worldbuilding using philosophy as a framework, but at the end of the day, it doesn't matter if the philosophy finds gaps so long as the rest of the narrative elements cohere around those gaps.

In c3, they do not. 

Next to c3, c1 gets the closest to leaning too hard against the logical house-of-cards making up cosmic ontology in Exandria due to the importance of the Divine Gate in defeating proto-god Vecna. The Divine Gate is, imo, the material nexus point where all the semantic and ontological contradictions coalesce: it was created so as to specifically block gods from traversing out of the Celestial plane, but is permeable to mortals. Presumably there is some quality or essential substance that decides who can move through it and who can’t—but what is that? What is the substance of divinity, not in the ontological sense but in the materialism of arcana? It’s not something exclusive to denizens of Tengar, because the Matron is also trapped; perhaps “divine” is a misnomer, and it only traps the specific entities designated at the time of its creation, regardless of any shared essential quality? Except no, because Vecna was able to be trapped behind it as well. 

On the flip side, the great thing about the Divine Gate is that it encompasses and narratively justifies that catch-22 of divine mechanics by adding the element of time. The gods used to be un-writably powerful Pre-Divergence, hence their cosmic standing, but the Divine Gate limits their powers of acting in the present, allowing for their mechanical impotence. The Divergence and the Divine Gate incorporate the gods’ disparate ontological states into the history of Exandria, a physical and temporal division that allows for these contradictions to coexist in separate corners of the narrative.*** 

This coheres throughout campaigns 1 and 2—even when c1 started approaching concepts of “divinity” more closely, the plot maintains a separation between mortal stakes and divine stakes. Vecna was Vox Machina’s problem because he posed a threat to mortals; he posed a threat to mortals because he was seeking to achieve god-level power on the mortal plane. We don’t need to know what the “power” exactly means to know it would be a huge imbalance. The threat is nullified by trapping Vecna behind the Divine Gate. We still don’t know what he is vis a vis godhood, but we do know his powers of acting and affecting on the Material Plane are curtailed and as such he’s not mortal’s problem anymore. Compare this to the Bell’s Hells attitudes towards their joint BBEGs of Ludinus and Predathos. Ludinus is the threat on the Material Plane; for much of the campaign, BH cap off cyclical debates on the gods by agreeing that stopping Ludinus is their actionable concern. In the end, however, Ludinus’ rhetoric succeeds in focalizing cosmic concerns: the narrative concludes with the resolution to the questions of ‘what to do about the gods and Predathos,’ reifying Ludinus’ view that the cosmic structure was a problem to be solved (despite the complete lack of supporting evidence to that point). Meanwhile the resolution to the—previously central—question of ‘what to do about Ludinus’ is ‘leave him to his cottage-core Thanos epilogue,’ as though he is not nor has he ever been a primary source of conflict.

I think Predathos is where the irreconcilability of material substance and ontological substance really start to chip away at the foundations of narrative coherence. The “God-eater” must be subject to the same questions re: “so what do you mean by god?” The takeaway is that the Predathos lore is frankly a hot mess of ludonarrative dissonance—perfect illustration for the other side of that catch-22 I was talking about!

 In theory, Matt could have introduced Predathos into Exandrian cosmology without it becoming a narrative problem, had it remained at a sufficient distance from the immediate plot to sit comfortably obscured in the same miasma of metaphysical unknowns as the Luxon or Tharizdun. It’s Ludinus and all the discussion surrounding these cosmic entities that shines a glaring spotlight on the contradictions by way of placing the gods into an ethical framework and using that judgement as a basis for praxis. Moral philosophy is not my area, but as far as it intersects with ontology: it is, to put it mildly, very fucking hard to put a subject under ethical judgement when said subject has no defined being as such that it’s very subjecthood is in question. 

What I’m trying to say is that you hold a guy in a very different ethical standing than the sun. The Dawnfather is both and can be reduced to neither. He is a character in a narrative with agency and personality and relationships at the same time he is a mechanical construction that has no independent existence and extremely limited powers of acting, and all the while he is semantically presumed all-powerful.

*I can’t find the post now to link it but I’m 99% sure it was by @utilitycaster

**For an illustration of (non-game) narratives where a pantheon of gods explicitly exist, are in possession of a certain cosmic power, and are direct narrative agents, see: Homer. I ran out of steam before getting to the full comparison I wanted to make, maybe I’ll get to that in another post, but trust me when I say it has massive implications—like, ‘requires a totally different method of engagement with the work, one which heavily departs from, and at times directly contradicts, literary and pedagogical tradition since at least the early modern period’-level implications.

***In terms of Pre-Divergence depictions, frankly I need to finish rewatching both Calamity and Downfall (possibly multiple times) to properly incorporate Brennan’s contributions to the text into this consideration. Drive-by assessment though, as it pertains to the main campaigns: we see glimpses of what the gods powers of acting can be without the Divine Gate, both with Asmodeus at the end of Calamity and the final battle in Downfall, to use as a comparison. These are useful for when c3 brings up the possibility for an alternate state of affairs while providing no examples for what those alternatives would entail. 

1. Bryant, Levi R. “Substantial Powers, Active Affects: The Intentionality of Objects.” Deleuze Studies 6, no. 4 (2012): 529–43. http://www.jstor.org/stable/45332014.

2. The structuralism I’m employing follows a number of works and theorists, namely Roland Barthes for lit theory and Richard Schechner for performance theory; the most relevant direct citation is Daniel McKay’s book The Fantasy Role-Playing Game: A New Performing Art (2001), which references both of the above and many others.

[lananiscorner]

Eh... this is not so much a "neurotypical" problem as it is a "general conflict management and de-escalation" problem, and it can have multiple reasons. Let's just say person A says person B did something wrong, B wants an explanation and A refuses to give one. This can be for any one of the following reasons:

A is used to good faith attempts at clarifying being met with bad faith/abusive/manipulative attempts to pick their logic apart and/or gaslight them by feigning ignorance/incompetence, and so has taken up a policy of "do not engage". This can be a generally good and healthy approach in many situations (e.g. someone hits on you at a bar, you tell them you're not interested, they ask you why not, you say they're not your type, they ask what exactly makes them not your type, etc. You are now already 2 levels deeper into this conversation than you ever wanted to be and feeling more gang-pressed into giving information, which is triggering your fight or flight instincts).

A is using this withholding of information as a means of emotional manipulation themselves, to keep B from properly articulating their own point/needs/wants/boundaries.

A doesn't quite understand the reasoning for why B is wrong themselves. This is common with social norms and behaviors, which are ingrained in most people at an age when they are too young to reason their way through them. Somebody in the notes mentioned the example of unspoken, nitty-gritty grammar rules, like how you would say "the big red truck" but not "the red big truck" and how to a non-native speaker this rule doesn't make sense. Sometimes the answer really is just "because" and nobody likes being grilled for information that they themselves don't have. It feels like being interrogated rather than having a conversation.

People who are good at something generally underestimate the knowledge/skill base of people who are not good at it. Y'all know that meme where the two scientists go "we have to be careful, most people probably only know X and maybe a bit of Y", where X and Y are things that nobody outside that field of study would know? This is the same thing. Sometimes people genuinely don't understand how specific you need them to be. Easy example: I grew in a culture that values punctuality. You show up to everything ideally 5-10 minutes before it starts. But I have one friend who absolutely hated that, who was constantly stressed out if I arrived at her place 5 minutes early, and I genuinely did not understand why this was such a problem for her and why she couldn't just prep for guests earlier (we had both grown up in this culture), until she explained to me in great detail how her mind would just use that extra time to find increasingly minute, procrastinating details to hyper focus on and lose track of time, giving me a few examples of such issues. That last bit was what was needed to make my brain go "oh, that's why, ok, I'll try to show up *shudders* 10 minutes late in the future".

They are low on spoons and don't have the time/energy needed to get into a longer conversation. This gets progressively worse the more introverted a person is.

Scenario 1, 3 and 4 are generally resolved fairly easily by being very upfront, but calm about it: "A, I like you and I want to do right by you, but I really, genuinely mean it when I say that I don't know what I did wrong. My brain is currently desperately trying to trace back every step that has happened and to find out what went wrong, and it can't, so clearly I'm missing some steps. Please explain it to me like you would explain it to some space alien that has just been dropped on Earth and has never been in situation X before, so I can do better next time."

At this point, if it's scenario 5 (no time/energy), Person A will usually say so (sometimes rudely, depending on how close they are to what Captain Awkward lovingly calls the Bitch Eating Crackers level of mental spoons exhaustion). This is a good point to ask " Okay, I understand. I'll ask some other time, when you have more time/energy if that's okay with you."

And if the answer you get then is some variation of "no it's fucking not, we're done talking about this ever", then you know that, at the very least, this person does not consider you important/worthwhile enough to set aside two minutes of their time to help you understand something, even when they have the time/energy.

And if you keep on running into this with the same person multiple times, then I'm sorry to say, it's likely scenario 2.

[messenger-of-babel]

Hello, I was hoping you take requests. If you do, can I please request one with Nightwing where the reader is his best friend and she gets kidnapped by the Joker and is badly hurt and how he deals with it? Thank you very much!

I Told You So

Summary: Dick remembers the risks of befriending civilians when you disappear one day.

Word Count: 2.7K

Notes: Dear anon, I hope that you still hang around my blog, and I'm so sorry this took so long to get to you after angstober. I had so many other ways to take the themes, but I opted for a more subtle approach. I hope it is close to what you were looking for. 💙

I'm working through my requests! I love getting these in my inbox so for everyone that has sent one, please know that I LOVE seeing these prompts and I plan to do all of them. Warnings for graphic descriptions of injuries and violence and a slightly shaky fic. Getting back into the swing of things! (Also want to say I went back through my blog and re-read every comment and reblog tags that people have left and I love that people love my work so much.)

Reblogging will summon Nightwing to be your Valentines this year! 💙💙💙

Love RiRi <3

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Dick had told himself not to be friends with civilians way back when he had started being a vigilante. It had been a quiet sentence that he had uttered to himself in the depths of his mind, and one that was overshadowed by his personality at every moment from then. It was almost like a defunct rule that just sat there for the sake of playing on his conscious.

 By nature, he was too outgoing, too eager to involve himself in the community and connect with the people that he fought for. He wanted to help the kids at the orphanage when he made trips with Bruce, he wanted to talk to those gathered around food trucks getting cheap meals because their apartments had been destroyed in last week’s bad clash with Scarecrow. He wanted that connection, which let him keep Dick Grayson away from the suit. The suit that called to him like a siren. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up just like Bruce, a shattered reflection unable to distinguish who was looking back at him at the end of the day. Another martyr who had sacrificed his soul and let the kevlar devour him wholly.

So, when he hung out with you, he was Dick. You reminded him that he was Dick Grayson, and the pressure that sat in his chest always eased. You had met when he took Haley in for her shots, a dimly lit vet clinic with underpaid staff and underfunded equipment.

"Sorry about that." you chuckle, head dipping down to nod at your own dog, who was pulling at the lead to get to Haley. Dick waved it off, laughing as he relaxed the lead in his hand. Haley ran circles around your golden labrador, tail wagging in excitement. Your hands brushed and fumbled with each other as you tried to awkwardly untangle the leads, pulling your dog’s apart when you could.

"Don't worry, Haley gets excited too." he smiles, crouching down to pet your own pup. He stares at Dick with black glossy eyes, tail waving back and forth as he tries to lick Dick's face, making him laugh. "What's the name?"

"Darty." you smile back, your companion turning his head back to look at you as he hears his name. "He's a good boy." you coo, rubbing his head. Dick scratches behind his ears before Haley gets jealous, nipping at the sleeves of his navy jacket with a whine.

"Ah, ah, gentle. I love you too." he laughs, a hand on each dog to keep them happy.

From then on you two had bonded over walks int he dog park and afternoon coffee while your canine friends played tug of war in front of your bench. It was hard to find people he considered friends, much less his best one. He was best friends with Wally still, and he was the person Dick went to when he was having troubles in his vigilante life. When he couldn’t take the stress of watching Bruce have another episode, something that was beginning to frequent more and more. He went to Wally when he needed favours called in, and he was stuck in bed with bruising so bad he looked like he’d picked a fight with a semi-truck (although Bane really felt like that at times).  But with you, he could talk about things that annoyed him. He could complain about little things, like how the coffee shop on the corner near his apartment didn't taste the same now that they changed management, or the fact that the rain had brought even more potholes to the Gotham streets, making driving a nightmare. Sometimes Dick fell so deep into those conversations with you, wrapped up in the way that you laughed or nodded along, that some days he thought he himself was an ordinary civilian.

But there were times like these that the little sentence came back from the corner of his mind that he pushed it into.

Where it came taunting him in that sing song voice, saying 'I told you so'.

Where he was reminded why he had tried to make the rule against befriending citizens.

He had noticed when you didn't make the puppy play date on Thursday like usual, Haley sitting sadly like her owner as they both waited for their friends. He had sent a quick text, 'Are you ok??' but wrote it off that there was just a good chance that you were sick, considering the flu that had swept your workplace the week before.

So, the civilian in Dick gave it the benefit of the doubt.

The next day you still hadn't responded, despite Dick knowing that you didn't work the Fridays. He rolled over, checking his phone with blurry eyes to see no new messages on his notification centre. He had had a rough patrol the night before and his muscles ached from misjudging a rooftop and landing harshly, so he let himself sleep in. You would surely respond later when you had time, and if you really were sick then he knew you wouldn't be awake till past noon.

So, the civilian in Dick rolled back over and caught up on sleep from the night shift.

However, when Saturday hit, he got the notice from Bruce that he was needed. Dick had spent the day in increased worry, knocking at your door around lunchtime only to receive no answer. The road was bumpy as he drove the bike back to the manor, wheels hitting potholes too wide to avoid properly. His frown deepened when he finally made it back to the manor, spotting Jason's bike out the front too. He dismounted, shaking the light rain from his hair. The dusk was being quickly swallowed by Gotham's signature rain clouds, so he shoved his hands in his pockets and hurried inside, greeting Alfred on his way down to the cave.

The sentence popped up in the forefront of his mind as he took sight of everyone in the cave.

 Bruce turned from the Bat computer, already in suit and cowl. Stephanie sat to his left; hip propped up against a table. Tim was suited up, still focused on the strings of numbers and texts flashing across the bat computer screen.

"Glad to see you could make it." Jason says gruffly, brushing past him. He was still in his riding gear, hair tousled from the helmet. Dick nods back, a flash of understanding passing through the two brothers.

"What's the situation?" he asks, coming to stand behind Tim's chair, next to Bruce.

"Mass kidnapping." Bruce says, eyes hard and trained on the computer screen.

"Culprit?"

"Joker." Jason fills in, voice distant as he changes on the other side of the room.

"It's pretty bad. Batman and I were investigating a disappearance, but it turns out there was a whole string prior. and now…" he says, tapping the space bar and the screen fills with faces.

"Now we've got twenty gone." Steph fills in, glancing sadly at the screen. "He's been playing a game, and we're losing."

Red crosses begin to flicker across some of the portraits floating in front of him, making him cringe. There were students, professors, and blue-collar workers. Some who seemed to work in an office, some who clearly worked outside. He scanned each face with an X, feeling the pain behind the implications. That's when he froze, and that's when that sentence came back stronger than ever.

I told you so.

He felt a slight tremor in his hand before he clenched it into a fist. His mouth was dry, guilt coursing through him. Maybe it was a rage, maybe it was a sadness. Dick honestly didn’t know how to untangle his emotions in this moment. He just knew that one of those faces up there was you, thankfully free from an X but there, nonetheless.

And the vigilante in Dick died a little inside.

"It’s not his MO." he says tensely. "Doesn't he want the attention of the Batman? It's not like him to do things in the background without announcing himself." he has to croak out, making Tim give him a curious side glance. His younger brother was always smarter than anyone ever gave him credit for.

"I think he's learnt how to self-entertain." Jason hums, appearing at his side with a sour expression. "He's gearing up for something big. Something to lord over the Bat."

"And we aren't going to let that happen." Bruce spoke up, voice stern. "Everyone here is to locate missing civilians while Red Robin and I track down Joker. We need to clear the field of potential casualties. Understood?"

Everyone nodded, but no one understood as painfully as Dick.

When the group broke up to get started, he called you again. It hurt twice as much knowing that the reason you weren't picking up is because that sick bastard had you somewhere. Because he had gotten too comfortable as a civilian that he failed you as a vigilante. If he hadn't given the benefit of the doubt, maybe you'd be here and safe. Maybe if he hadn't rolled over and gone back to sleep, he could have used that time trying to find you instead. If he had done his job, then none of this would have happened.

And maybe that would have been worth being consumed by the suit.

When he does find your signal, his heart nearly leaps from his chest. Everyone else had already entered the field, scouring buildings and known hideouts to just find anyone from the GPD missing persons list. Not Dick. Dick needed to get you back specifically. If there was any benefit to having a vigilante as a best friend, is that he would tear the city apart trying to find you. The downsides being that because of him you were lost in the first place. He sent the location to his phone and races from the manor, adrenaline making his head spin. He takes a car, not trusting himself to slow down on the corners enough to take the bike.

The GPS takes him to a building by the docks, normally active during the day but abandoned in the night. He parks a half block away as to not draw attention and slings his escrima sticks on his back, tugging them once to make sure that they were secure. He scales the shipping containers nearby and slinks out of sight of the security cameras, each muscle in his body primed to flex and twist on command. He balances on a high beam inside the main warehouse, pulling up his wrist where the red flashing dot of your phone blinked at him. He would probably have to buy you a new phone, considering the backdoor program he ran through your signal to track it made it virtually unusable.

He scanned the area, hairs on the back of his neck tingling at the lack of goons or suspiciously scarred individuals. With light feet he padded across the roofs of rusted shipping containers, feet as swift as his parents had taught and in the shadows like he had been trained. When he stood atop the rusted blue container in the left wing of the warehouse, his blue dot overlapped with the red.

He spun down, still glancing over his shoulder in case he was walking into a trap. The lock was newly purchased, indicating that you were indeed here. It popped open easily enough with the lock picks in his sleeve, the make and model a standard in many hardware stores. This could be easy, he could grab you, get you out of here and back into the apartment on the corner of fifth where you belonged-

it was you.

That's what he had to tell himself when the container door creaked open, and his flashlight sent a beam into the dark pit. He had seen bodies in the past, dead or dismembered or otherwise. Yet that didn't compare to the way that his stomach turned to stone in his abdomen just seeing you unconscious. HisHIHis feet thudded loudly as he raced towards you, gloved hands sliding down your bound arms to press against your wrist, his breathing as shallow as your pulse. He takes a deep breath and calms himself, cutting you from the chair you were tied to so he could cradle you in his arms and get a better look.

"I've got one at the docks, Wareson's shipping containers in Lower Gotham. They’re unconscious but alive." He speaks into his wrist, marking his channel as 'open' once more. It crackled to life soon after, Bruce's voice filtered through his earpiece.

"We've got a trace on a few others. Check for a calling card, Spoiler and Red Hood have found other hostages with codes attached, we might be able to get ahead of this." spoke the Bat, and Dick lowered you down gently to take a look.

His hands ghosted across your skin gently, so he didn't disturb any injuries, flashlight gripped in his teeth as he skimmed your clothes. Pulling a small square of cardboard from your blouse, he flipped the playing card over to reveal a bloodied joker and a string of numbers printed underneath.

"Sending an image now." He relayed, using his watch to take a photo and send it back to the cave. He shut his comm line off after that, his head reeling too much to focus in on the chatter from the rest of the team.

An injury to the right side of your head, against your temple. blunt force, left a cut on your hairline.

Your hair was normally a shade lighter than what it was right now.

Bruising around the throat, dark smears and indents in your skin. Evidence of friction marks.

Your necklaces never hurt you that way.

As he looked at you, your breath shallow, he felt that stone in his stomach grow hot. The way your eyelids were sealed shut with red crust, hair plastered to your head with the viscous liquid. Swelling around the lips that curved at him to smile or tell a joke. An arm that was folded the wrong way, the same arm that would tug his arm to hurry him up or reach out to his during sad parts in movies.

Right now, the vigilante Nightwing had failed you, but the one wearing the pain was the bent over form of civilian Dick Grayson.

His eyes tingled and burned, chest heaving before he knew it with scattered sobs. He calmed them down soon enough, the Bruce that lived in the back of his voice yelling at him to get it together, all while chanting over that same old sentence in tandem. 'I told you so. I told you so. I told you so.' The sadness didn't last long however, quickly being replaced with an anger that flushed the skin of his neck bright red. He lifted you up in his arms, beginning the slow walk back to the car so he didn't irritate your injuries. His steps echoed out in the silent warehouse, competing with the racing sound of his heartbeat. As he walked, he was so focused on counting the unsteady breaths you took that he didn’t notice the suit melding to his skin, consuming him with invisible teeth until the civilian part of Dick dissolved completely.

'I told you so.'

'I told you so.'

'I told you so.'

Dick wasn't made to be a civilian, despite how he wore their clothes and played the part of a happy townsperson. He concluded that you were bright enough to live the life of a civilian for both of you, revelling in the little moments of peace that his nighttime job had fought to preserve.

Dick was made to be a vigilante, Bruce turning his rage and anger at the world into a weapon, a tool to shape Gotham and carve out the parts that threatened the lives of innocent people.

Dick was about to show them just how well he had learned to wield that weapon.

[jjslvt]

GOOD FOR YOU ── .✦ nsfw, mdni, 18+ .ᐟ.ᐟ

❝ gonna wear that dress you like, skin-tight. do my hair up real, real nice. and syncopate my skin to your heart beating. 'cause I just wanna look good for you, good for you, oh-oh. let me show you how proud I am to be yours. ❞ 𓏲𝄢 (song inspo)

[bf!rafe cameron x gf!reader] (includes blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected, rough) — be safe y’all!

notes: this is my first ever rafe fic. it was a challenge. idk if i’ll write more… he is my 2nd fav guy on obx but jj is my main, my everything lmao

you were rafe cameron’s girlfriend and it was one of those days where he was stressing out so you decided to distract your boyfriend — take away his stress and ease that riled up soul of his.

you were probably the only one capable of decompressing this man.

you wanted to show him how proud you always were to be his. boost your man up (basically feed his ego and let him focus on that instead). there were many ways you could do it but valentine’s day was approaching (he always spoiled you on it, getting the best for his girl), so physical loving was the perfect choice.

and to you, the best way of de-stressing your man plus being thankful for the things he does for you.

you dolled up; finding the skin-tight dress that he loved so much, your curves showing off in it and with a good amount of skin showing. doing your hair up, letting just a few strands fall down. light makeup, giving it more of an elegant look but sexy and you added a touch of glitter to your cheeks.

you went to your shared bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed — legs crossed as you called out, “rafe! baby, can you come here please?”

rafe was not too far away from the bedroom, rubbing his face from the annoying phone call he just had when he heard your voice. he let out a huff, trying to calm himself.

“kind of irritated right now, doll. i-“ he started shouting back with mild snark laced in.

“please, honey!! it’s important!” you responded, fidgeting with your fingers for a moment before sitting back in position. you basically were posing with how you sat.

he couldn’t refuse the way you said ‘please’ and called him those cheesy pet-names he secretly loved. he was whipped, as much as he would pretend he wasn’t, he was. you were his sweet babydoll and he could not ignore you, so he walked to the bedroom. when he saw you sitting on the bed, looking like a fucking painting come to life — like a diamond shining, he lowered his head to stare down at you, a smirk starting to form on his face as his eyes started drinking you in.

there he was, dressed casually in a shirt and jeans with his buzzcut; a laid back style yet still looking like a god. you stared back, admiring him also.

“holy shit…” he muttered, eyebrows raising a bit.

whatever anger he had previously felt at certain situations was already starting to evaporate and you could tell. you bit your lip seductively, batting your eyelashes and leaning over forward to show off your cleavage.

“hi baby… do i look good?”

he slowly stalked towards you, like a predator ready to catch his prey; feeling his cock twitching in his jeans already. the sight of you was enough to make a man go crazy in his opinion. even when you didn’t doll up but he can tell you put in effort today — just for him, which made his pride grow.

“good? you tryna seduce me here? because you look more than just good.”

he grabbed your chin, guiding you to stand up as he eyed you up & down more — before dropping that hand to yours and twirling you for a moment which made you giggle. he loved that sound.

“you look like a damn goddess…” his voice starting to sound low, lustful. he pulled you into him, his hand sliding down the small of your back.

“you did this for me?” his voice sounding somewhat husky.

the gentle yet firm touch of his hand had you shivering already, as you stared up at him with eyes that looked both innocent and devilish, a duality from you that made him groan a little inwardly.

“i did, rafey… all for you, boo.” you whispered and he tried controlling himself for a moment. that dress was backless, so he could feel your warm skin. a new tension forming inside him.

“all yours.” you wrapped your arms around him, feeling his heartbeat turn up as you pressed against him. he could feel the softness of your boobs through his shirt since that dress was so tight.

“i’d hate to ruin all your effort, sweetheart.” he whispered back, tone going lower like he wanted to growl, a primal need forming within him.

“you can leave this dress a mess on the floor.” your voice felt like a siren���s call to him and he did sort of growl, finally losing composure as he swiftly lifted you — making you wrap your legs around his waist as he pinned you to the wall. lips attaching to your neck as he started licking and nipping, making you whimper quietly. your dress rode up from the lift and he was already desperately rutting into you through his jeans. the tension only growing and all his frustrations from before pouring out.

he started sucking your neck hard — sinking his teeth in a bit to which you let out a whine while he let out a husky groan.

“fuck, babydoll… so perfect. dressin’ up for me, letting me ravage you.” he murmured against your skin after placing hickeys, still grinding his clothed member against your damp core because the wetness was seeping through the panties. he was thankful this dress rode up but he was getting impatient — you could tell with how fast he would grind on you, making your legs tremble slightly.

the clothes were in the way but since you could feel how hard he was through those jeans now, you gasped out, “baby… l-let me do something for you, let me make you feel good…”

he already knew where this was going and he wasn’t going to deny the offer his bombshell girlfriend hinted at.

“yeah y/n? really wanna be a good girl today, huh?” he huffed, letting up as he stopped his grinding to lower you back to the floor. he looked at you, panting slightly.

“gonna be your good girl… rafe. gonna help you forget all the bullshit happening,” you spoke, voice like honey to him as he watched you start to lower to your knees and undo his jeans. he bit his lip, breathing more harsher in anticipation.

once you freed him, you inhaled sharply — never quite used to your boyfriend’s impressive shaft. the one that pounded into you and reminded you that you were his girl. only his girl.

you wanted to tease a little as your tongue licked the tip but the precum was already there and every vein in his cock throbbed for you. he already started placing a hand on your head, “doll,” his voice like a command.

you decided to lick one stripe up, from the bottom to the tip before you took him in your mouth slowly — he couldn’t help but buck forward just a little already as he groaned, shutting his eyes. his grip on your head getting a little firmer.

you didn’t want to torment him or make him wait any longer so you got to work, sucking his dick while cradling his balls gently. his head thrown back as he kept groaning at the feel of your pretty lips wrapped around him.

“fuuuck, just like that.”

after a while of bobbing your head up and down, gradually speeding up — he started thrusting into your mouth a bit, unable to stop himself.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” he grunted that curse like a mantra as he gripped tighter and thrusted more, “y/n…”

he sounded a bit wrecked out already but you took him, trying to keep up the speed even though he took some control. you knew he needed this release, even if it made you gag just a tiny bit — the small choked sound you made against his cock only made him tense up more as he finally hit the back of your throat.

your eyes rolled back, slight tears forming and rolling out a bit — smudging the little makeup you had on but it made you look so delicious to him. he had opened his eyes in that moment, knowing he was about to cum and wanted to see you. his head looking down at the sight of his girlfriend who started looking like a beautiful hot mess.

he let out a hoarse moan finally, spilling hot cum into your mouth. his dick twitching with every spurt and you regained yourself as the movements ceased and he was slowly leaving your mouth.

“good girl,” he panted out, his eyes looking softer but you knew he wasn’t done and needed more. there was a tense air still surrounding him but you had planned to do more anyways.

his praise had you blushing and flustered as you swallowed his cum, like you always did. just a small part of it was dribbling down the corner of your mouth and he bent over & wiped it off with his finger, “such a good girl for me…”

you were turned on, the damp spot in your panties had only gotten larger. you leaned forward to lick his finger clean, “can’t miss a drop, rafe.”

his eyes flared with a new lit fire for you as he reached down to pull you to your feet. his dick hardening right away again, “you said i could leave this dress a mess on the floor, right?”

you nodded sweetly and he wasted no time, ripping that dress off of you, making your eyes widen at his fervor. he threw that dress on the floor as a mess alright. everything he did was always fierce, dominant and sexy.

“promise, i’ll buy you the same dress, baby.” his voice sounding urgent, “now let me fuck you hard, beautiful.”

─────────────────────

rafe’s cock was balls deep into your cunt as he fucked you. every frustration that still lingered now fading with every fast and deep slam into you. he had your hands pinned above your head, holding on tightly; letting out feral grunts and groans at times as your walls were a vice-grip around him, it felt like fucking heaven.

to him… and to you. rafe cameron knew how to fuck and make you see stars, even if he chased his own high a bit more during these moments at times.

“fuck y/n, you are… ugh- fuckin’ tight. always so tight…” his voice was so hoarse and strained now — he was putting in all the energy into fucking out his frustrations and wanting to make you forget your own name.

“gonna keep, haa, fucking you until you forget your name and only remember mine.”

you were letting out incoherent string of words so loud, it was bouncing off the walls and the bed was creaking so much. honestly, there were a lot of sounds besides those… like flesh against flesh, his balls slapping against your ass. the room was filled with lewd noises that got you both off, the air was filled with arousal.

you could feel every ridge and line on his cock, rubbing against your silken walls, stretching out a little more for him every time. you squirmed, body arching up a bit as he kept roughly ramming in you.

“mmn, a-ah, ah…” your sounds filled his ears making him tighten his grip on your wrists as he pulled out all the way, right before thrusting very hard right back in — you let out a scream because it felt like his dick kissed your cervix.

“RAFE!!”

you reached your climax, writhing underneath him. that almost got him to explode in your pussy right then and there.

his eyes darkened, admiring his work of making you look like a hot mess; he fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own release. getting sloppy and needy as he panted louder and louder. your eyes were closed and lips parted as you felt like you were in a fever dream being so overstimulated.

“argh, i’m gonna fill you up, so much. fuuu- you’re gonna take all of it, doll…”

you croaked out a soft, “rafe… fuck…”

“haa, you like being my girl?”

“yes baby… so much…” you were breathless, “haa, proud to be your girl, rafe…”

finally, his hand that pinned your wrists pressed them deeper into the bed and he buried himself so violently as he exploded inside of you — the bed had moved forward with that final thrust.

“HNGHH Y/N.”

your name escaping his mouth as he let out the most guttural groan of his life, letting go of your wrists and collapsing onto you. you shuddered feeling his cum fill you to the brim, it felt so hot.

“that’s it… take it, baby.”

all the tension and stress he felt had finally gone away, an immense relief coming over him as he slowly got off his high.

he lifted his head up, looking at your messy state as your eyes stared up at him, half-lidded and hazy.

he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “you did amazing, sweetheart... thank you.”

he pulled out and rolled off to the side, laying on the bed. taking you to his side and snugging you up to him, holding you closely as you both started to relax. you nuzzled your face to his neck and he smiled to himself, rubbing soothing little circles on your arm.

he had his soft moments, only for you. for you are the calm that helps his storm.

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

"Pokemon collection (pt. 7)"

Or "something made a hole in my backyard pt.7"

Shadow The Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

Notes: Happy Valentine's day!! If you're feeling nice leave a comment, they are hugely appreciated!

Part 6

Fainting was a weird sensation. It´s like when you stood up really fast and you get dizzy, except instead of going away the dizzines just makes you fall to the ground and hit your head.

It was the waking up part that was higly confusing. Mainly because the first thing you saw was a yellow-orangey creature.

"AHHHHH" Yeah, probably the whole neighborhood heard you scream.

And then you heard multiple voices at the same time from which what you understod was: "Hey, there´s no need to scream" from what sounded like a child, "You´re not dead!" from an older child, "This one is weird, she is silent and then loud" that sounded like a grown ass adult. And there was also Ozzy barking.

"Okay everybody, move aside, give her some space" Now that voice you did recognize, that was your aunt Maddie.

Only when she sat next to you did you register that you were laying in the couch. How long had it been?

"Hey sweetie" She started as she gently laid her hand on your arm as though you were a scared animal that would run off at any moment. "I´m sorry this all came as a surprise to you, we didn´t mean to..."

"I´M BACK, WHO SCREAMED?" Tom interrupted her as he appeared out of nowhere, or maybe he had come from upstairs, you didn´t know, you were sooo confused.

"What happened? And why is there a blue hedghog here?"

"We were going to tell you, but then you showed up with Shadow and we didn´t want to..." Once again your aunt was interrupted.

"Hi! I´m Sonic! Your super awesome cousin you didn´t know you had" The hedgehog practically screamed on your face.

"I´m sorry, did you just say cousin?" You asked at him, but you didn´t even let him speak as you turned towards your uncle "Is this why you said kids? Are these... things..."

"Rude" Said, well, Sonic, you guessed.

"...Your kids? And you didn´t tell me?" You couldn´t quite tell if you were feeling offended or confused, there was a sort of thightness on your chest, as if you were hugely overlooking a very important detail.

"Why did you not tell me? And why are there so many of them? What, do you collect them like fucking pokemons or something?" Now you did know what you were feeling.

Angry, hot with anger. You could feel it in every vein on your body, your eyes couldn´t focus on anything, until you found a victim, still sitting right at your side.

"I asked you for help! I thought he was dying and you didn´t even think about telling me that you had seen others like him?!" you screamed at your aunt Maddie as you got up from the couch.

"I didn´t know what to do, he is dangerous!" She quipped right back.

"That´s not your call to make, I would have handled it if you had said something" that was probably one of the first times in your life you had disagreed with your aunt.

Shadow wasn´t dangerous. Sure, he was hurt and he didn´t really trust you, but that didn´t make him dangerous.

"HE TRIED TO KILL TOM!"

...

...

"What?"

Your voice had came out so low you weren´t sure the words had actually left your mouth at all.

"He did, that´s why he has a broken arm" Maddie explained as she grabbed your hands on hers.

"But he´s not bad..."

"He has the ability to be..." she stated as if it was an unmistakable truth.

"Maddie that´s enough, we talked about this" Finally Tom approached the two of you, he put his working arm in between you and stared sternly at his wife. Yet she kept looking at you in your eyes.

"But it doesn´t matter anymore, he´s gone" She tried to smile reassuringly.

"What?" Suddenly the hold on your hands felt restrictive "What do you mean? What did you do?!" you ripped your hands of of hers.

"I-I, nothing, I didn´t do nothing, he was gone when I went looking for you" She seemed shocked at your harsh reaction.

Dread filled your entire body, it had drenched you in an awful way, freezing you from head to toes. A sound left your lips, it wasn´t quite a word, more like a strained gasp.

And the you ran.

You didn´t hear your aunt calling for you as you left the house, or the little yellow fox asking "What is going on?", all you could be aware of was the blood pumping through your legs and your heart beating wildly in your chest. There was a ringing in your ears too, that damned type of ringing that appears when the world is too quiet.

The run to your house felt awfully longer than the walk you had taken that morning, and once you finally arrived your brain was working too fast, trying to focus on everything at once.

From afar the house had looked normal, but the door was open, the lock busted. Your heart had left your chest altogether and was then beating on your throat.

You walked in slowly, the speed you had taken on the run dead as you had stepped on the welcome mat. A voice came from the living room, so you went there first.

The wooden floor creaked with every step you took, and anticipation built in your chest. But there was no one there, only the TV on, broadcasting a Mexican novela.

With every second you gained speed as you ran all the way to the bedroom you were staying in, the one Shadow had taken as his own while he healed.

The bed was neatly done and everything was on place, except the window, which was wide open

"SHADOW! SHADOW WERE ARE YOU?!" you screamed through the window, looking for signs of him on the backyard.

Something warm dripped onto your hand, and, as you touched your face trying to figure out were the liquid had came from, you felt traces of tears painting your cheeks.

You kept calling out his name as you searched around the house, your voice growing weaker and more broken as you didn't find him.

Finally you reached the living room once again, and you collapsed on the couch. You tried to hold your hands together so that they wouldn't shake.

A creak sounded from the window behind you; you turned around.

There he was standing, looking straight at your eyes with his usual frown. He exchanged looks with you for a few seconds and when you finally moved he was too confused as to move.

You jumped over the couch and hugged him. The hard floor digged onto your knees and your body felt tired, but he was alright which was what mattered.

"Where where you?" You questioned him.

"A woman came by, I did what you told me, I hid". His frown looked almost concerned then, as if he was worried he had done something wrong.

"Yes, you did well" You laughed and broke the hug, choosing to keep your hands on his shoulders instead "Maybe a little too well".

"I'm..."

"The ultimate life form? Yeah, yeah, I know"

"No, I'm... Sorry, that I worried you" he stared at the ground.

You almost choked on a sob at his words.

"It's okay, I was just worried you were hurt, there's nothing to apologize for sweetie" you explained as you held his face in your hands.

What a twist your life had taken.

Taglist:@boogiemansbitch@vxllys@whoisgami@baby-bloos@sapphireravensworld@mothmanperson@4rm-the-mf-concrete@eliknowsnothing@pooplyface1423@kyouzki@moon-trash1507@shadowforlive

[sunarots]

taste ━━━ suna rintarou & miya osamu

27. starter ♡

"There she is!"

You can feel all the eyes fall onto you as you enter the gymnasium — unfortunately, not just your team members. The other practicing teams turn to watch you enter, gripping your clipboard so tight it's a wonder that it's not broken.

Bokuto throws his ball at Iwa so he can come running over to you. "Have you got the positions? Can we see them?" He leans in so close you can almost taste his anxiety.

"I'm just about to read it out, okay? Jesus, give me a chance." You step around Bokuto and approach your bench, setting your stuff down behind it. You turn to face your team, all of them looking at you like they might throw up.

Shaking your head, you raise your clipboard in the air. "In my hand are your starting positions for this game only. You will receive your next game's positions half an hour before the match is set to start. If you ask me earlier, you're not starting. That goes for everyone."

"What if the match is set to start at three but then it starts at half past two? Do we find out half an hour before then, or do-"

You raise a hand, stopping Suga from spiralling. "You will find out when you find out. Can I read out your positions now, or do you want to talk about this some more?"

Noya goes to raise a hand, his arm being hit away by Suga.

"Position one is Sakusa. Position two is Atsumu. Position three is Bokuto. Position four is Suna. Position five is Akaashi. Position six is Noya. Noya, you will be subbed with Osamu when you're up front and Suga for serving. Does anyone have any complaints?"

"I'm not starting, but Atsumu is? Are you kidding me?" Osamu crosses his arms over his chest.

"We need a strong block, strong receive, and a strong serve. This rotation is based on everyone's overall skills. Not starting does not equal not playing." You shrug your shoulders, setting your clipboard down on the bench. "Get back to practicing, please. We don't have long."

Everyone but Osamu continues back to the court, anxious to start playing. He lurks towards you, blocking you from approaching Kuroo. "If we need a strong block, why is Akaashi immediately rotating to the front?"

"Because it means that for every rotation we have a setter in the front," you explain, resting your hands on your hips. "I already told you all of this."

"I thought you were joking! Why the hell is Suna starting?"

"Because he's a good blocker, Osamu. That's what he excels at."

"But I'm not good enough, is that it?"

You furrow your eyebrows. "What? No, that's not- What are you talking about?"

"I shouldn't have let you go to the fucking party alone. He got in your head again, didn't he?"

You feel your stomach sinking at the accusation, but the frustration takes over. "How many times do I have to tell you that I made those choice based on how everyone performs. If you were so desperate to start, you should have practiced more."

"You think that just because coach isn't here, you can make all these big calls-"

"Enough, Osamu!" you yell, throwing your hands in the air. "My decision is final and if you keep arguing, you won't start this season."

He scoffs, backing away from you. "I should have known it was true."

You watch with a frown as Osamu approaches the team, picking up a ball to practice his serves. With a sigh, you sit down on the bench and grab your bottle. "This'll be a long day."

The first set finishes with a win for your team, taken with ease. Suga grabs his bottle from beside you before following Noya to the other side of the court. "Good job out there, team!"

"Hey, can I talk to you?"

You look up at Suna, nodding once. "Yeah, what is it?"

"Tomorrow we're up against Sendai and they use the same rotation. You should match me with their little one. He serves, so Noya should receive."

"Okay, I'll take that into account. Kiyoko said they have a new coach, though, and she might change things up." You pick up your clipboard to write it down, tensing up when someone shoves Suna away from you.

Suna stumbles back, almost taking Bokuto down with him (luckily for him, Bokuto's a tank). "What the hell, man?"

"That's my fucking girlfriend, Sunarin. Get that into yer head, yeah?"

"What the fuck are you talking about? I was just giving her advice-"

"She doesn't want anything you fucking give out." Osamu jabs a finger at Suna, the rage taking over.

"It was about the match tomorrow-"

"Stay out of this!"

You flinch back at Osamu's tone, looking around you in horror as he continues yelling at Suna. All eyes have fallen onto your team, and not for the reason you'd like.

"You're fucking crazy, get the hell off me!"

"I know you fucked her at the party, you ugly fuck!" Osamu shoves him again, Suna managing to stand his ground.

Your eyes grow wide, turning to Iwaizumi. "Why would you tell him that!? You know that's not true!"

Iwa's jaw drops, pointing at himself in shock. "Me? I didn't tell him anything!"

"So it's true? Rubi was telling the truth?" Osamu looks at you for confirmation.

"No! We didn't fuck! We just...kissed a little."

"Just!?"

"Yeah, just- Wait, when did you talk to Rubi?"

"She fucking texted me. I can't believe this. You guys are the fucking worst." Osamu spins around to fully face you, his face red. "I can't believe I ruined a friendship for you. I can't believe I thought you were worth it. Rubi was right about you. A slut in high school, a slut now-"

"Don't fucking call her that," Suna snaps, grabbing Osamu's shoulder to get his attention.

Osamu spins around, throwing his fist at Suna. His knuckles hit his jaw with full force, knocking him down. "Don't fucking touch me!"

One of the referees blows a whistle, rushing across the court. He starts shouting at Osamu, Kuroo stepping in to try and get the argument to settle. You pass your clipboard to Iwa. "You and Kuroo are in charge. If Osamu can't play, put in Suga. Keep the rotation for as long as possible. We're serving first. Just trust Sakusa, okay?"

Iwa nods his, allowing you to help Suna up. He lets out a sigh and looks around the team, shaking his head in disappointment. "What the fuck just happened.”

# fun fact !

iwa’s lowkey questioning his existence right now

masterlist. previous | next

summary. when your ex starts dating your least favourite person on campus, your ex-best friend from high school, you can’t help but feel a little betrayed. you quickly realise a way to get back at him: his best friend.

taglist (open!). @v3nusplanetofluv @mdmraz @thoughtswithbbg @fireinyoureye @wakashudou @jisookdays @tespho @frootloopscos @gigiiiiislife @walllflowerrrsss @tangerinelovr @datonegaybestfriend @sturnprincess @jpegarchives @justanotherweeb666 @1yeah1 @rrosiitas @yuu-via @zazathezaer @softpia @animenaces-world @loveelylani @punkhazardlaw @to-dino @nanamis-right-tiddie @aboutkiyoomi @arusio @aloore @dailyakira @alexithemiyatic @chemiru @p1nktulip @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @taefanclub @h3xi2g0n3 @rikidaze @mncxbe @luvelyjjk @iluv-ace @arwawawa2 @aldebrana @nanasrkives @passionfruitenthusiast @surfeitstar @dndjxkskcn @jiminscarmex

[razmazaniya]

Jiraiblr (and adjacent communities) have a very serious grooming / predator problem

Do not like making posts like this but as an adult who sees and engages with a lot of minors on here, I have witnessed very disturbing things, and recently something extremely illegal, horrific, and harmful to the child in question, who I will not name in this post. Please do not mention them or any other minors you know of that this has happened to or are that are especially vulnerable to these approaches/attacks that have been happening.

There are adults approaching young jirai bloggers inappropriately, sometimes explicitly, sometimes not. I see it on the dash and in tags, I see mentions of private interactions, there is no telling what happens in private conversations or on other platforms that has not been shared. They tend to enable the blogger's need for attention and validation or degradation, tendency to self-destruct, and hypersexuality, or desire to appear cute. They target weak points unique to each blogger based on what they post about or reveal in conversation. I've only seen them use anon. I don't know how many people are doing this but I suspect in some cases the same person is behind more than one.

This is intolerable. I have never been in this situation except with personal friends that I've been able to protect, so I don't know what to do, and I fear that plain reporting will just result in blog terminations and the young bloggers will come back and be preyed on again or contact their abusers on other platforms and the abuse will continue.

I know a lot of other jirais are kids, and don't call this behavior out clearly enough; they either envy it, comment the creepiness of it, or try to comfort and be positive to the victim. It's not their fault, they're kids too, it's not their job and they aren't expected to know how to deal with this, but this is not enough: You need to know that this is not something to envy, it hurts your friends, and if it happens to you, it will hurt you.

These are bad people, and not in a fun way that we can romanticize. They are the kinds of monsters that give you these problems to begin with. They don't love you. They don't think you're special or cute. They think you're weak. You're not, you are just innocent, and they are pathetic and have to resort to hurting innocent children that already have mental struggles.

To other adults in this community, no, it is not your job to parent random kids online, but it is your moral responsibility to tell someone in power, confront a predator if you are safe to do so, loudly condemn this behavior, tell people this isn't okay, and act as a model of how adults should treat kids — which doesn't include grooming or being a bystander to abuse.

As a whole we should discuss this more for the sake of prevention and awareness so that it does not keep happening. It has been getting worse. I do not care if it is a staple of Toyoko Kids to be involved in underage activity; It's bad when it happens to them, and it's bad when it happens online.

This community cannot become a haven for content and abuse like this. It's not about subculture, it's about decency. It's not cute, aesthetic, or a quirk of your personality to engage in this, endure this, or be silent about this. It's child abuse.

If that doesn't convince then you, only for selfish reasons; if this becomes too big of an issue, Tumblr will crack down even harder on Jiraiblr and blast it off the platform for safety and legal liability. So if you want a community, keep predators out of it, prevent children from being abused, and be vigilant about it.

[heartz4levi]

AUGHHH more till PLEASE.. i cant stop thinking about his hands/fingers..

you see, i got that midas touch !

☆ thinking abt till's hands . . .

☆ till (alnst) ,, gn reader . . dom!till ,, sub!reader ,, till is using his hands on reader (interpret that however you want) ,, mirror sex (sort of) ,, edging (reader receiving) ,, light choking (reader receiving) ,, slightly needy, whipped till(??) ,, a little bit of manhandling at the end i guess (reader receiving).

till can't take his eyes off of you. it's as if he's hypnotized, gaze endlessly raking over your entire form in the mirror's reflection while his hand continues its motions, never seeming to tire out.

maybe it's the sight of you falling apart from his fingers alone that keeps him going, that prevents his wrist from aching. maybe it's the sounds that tumble past your lips and bounce off the walls, sending several rushes of dopamine right to his inner works.

"ah—fuck—" your head leans back against till's shoulder upon feeling your nth orgasm of the night approaching, an almost instinctive reaction to the up and coming anticipated wave of bliss that'll wash over you.

except it disappears. your eyes snap open, immediately drifting down to see that till had pulled his hands away, leaving your chest heaving with frustration.

"why do you have to make things complicated?" till asks, brows furrowing lightly in reaction to the mess that coats his fingers. it's not enough. he wants more — he knows you want more too, but.. "i told you not to look away."

his other hand, the one that had been holding onto your side long enough to leave crescent shaped imprints from how his nails have been digging into your skin slightly, moves to wrap around your neck. he doesn't grip it too tightly, but the hold is firm enough for him to straighten your head, forcing you to look straight ahead. in the mirror, at your fucked—out face and the sticky mess coating your lower region.

"you look so good like this, don't you think?" till rasps out, not making any moves to lead you to that temporary yet euphoric height of pleasure for what would not be the first time tonight. in response, you nod. but you don't really know what you just agreed to, being too far gone to let many things procces in your mind. you're just agreeing in hopes that that's the best thing to do, and that till will resume his ministrations as soon as possible.

"then don't look away again," despite the hazy sensation engulfing your senses, it was surprisingly easy to pick up the whiny hint laced in till's tone. something he would have definitely gotten teased for, if you weren't desperately wishing that he would make you cum all over his fingers again.

the lack of a verbal response or any general reaction isn't taken negatively by till. instead, he continues — "this version of you.. i love it. you know i do. and i love being the only one to see it, but i want you to see it too."

"till—" you gasp. "i get it, just quit teasing me."

till was about to correct you, say that he isn't teasing you. he decides against doing so, humming in acknowledgement before finally, finally touching you again. he doesn't start off slow, the sheer roughness and vigor of his movements causes your body to jolt, unintentionally leaning into his touch.

it doesn't take long before you feel yourself being pushed over the edge, panting and whining while trying your hardest to not tear your gaze away from your bare form. your bare form that till is still eyeing persistently, watching each and every little move that you make, wether it be the way you arch your back off of his chest or the not—so—subtle grinding of your hips into his hand.

feeling yourself go limp in his arms, you close your eyes and try to regain at least a little bit more energy, considering how much of it seemed to drain with all of those consecutive orgasms.

a startled grunt is forced out of you the moment your chest hits the surface below you with a light thud. reopening your eyes, till's silhouette catches your eye in the mirror's reflection, curiously watching as he shifts around before realizing — he's done with making you come undone on his fingers, but now he wants to be inside of you in a different way.

[m1ssu2p1an0]

OMG HELLO!!! I have a request...

you dont have to do this if you dont want to! but basically, can you do PLATONIC awakened pure vanilla cookie comforting anxious/quiet!reader?

Things have been tough and honeslty I think we all need to cry into his arms and be comforted by him </3 fatherly pv hugs would be so soothing and could make anyone feel better,,,

Of course I can, my friend! I truly hope you feel better, we all love PV around here (Because gender isn’t specified, reader will be GN!) But I hope you enjoy it, and hope you feel better as well, only wish the best for you! <3

“I am here..”

Awakened PV & GN!Anxious/Quiet reader

To say you didn’t feel great was an utter understatement. It’s like you fallen ill. Ever since arriving to the kingdom, it’s like you couldn’t help but have sickening thoughts cloud your senses. The mere feeling that someone’s watching you and judging your every move gets so draining, even tiring.

Your behavior slipped past many as you just adjusting to everything around you and what’s ahead for you in the following days, but your actions didn’t seem to go unnoticed by the sweet cookie that had nothing but worries for you.

You were sat at a bench, looking into the water, sub-cautiously looking around as you let out a small huff that could pass as a sigh. The previously mentioned cookie had approached you unknowingly as it took you a bit to notice him. Looking to your left you see him facing what was ahead before turning to look at you, noticing your tensed posture and anxious actions.

“Well hello, my dear. I apologize for startling you, it truly wasn’t my intention..”

His voice was smooth like butter as it seemed to ease your worries a tad, your mind racing as you began to overthink before you were interrupted by his voice once more.

“What seems to be the matter? You always seem so.. scared.. is there anything wrong?”

His question overwhelmed you, causing you to cower away slightly, saying nothing. It was like there was a lump stuck in your throat, no matter what you did you couldn’t seem to escape it. You watched as he eased up, as if he was shrinking himself to look less intimidating, the bright light that seemed to emit from him dimming. Yet the warm feeling from it was still very evident. Your mouth opened but no words, causing you to hesitate as you shook your head.

“I really don’t try to pester, but just know I’ll be here as a shoulder to lean on, and even cry upon..”

Those simple words made your chest clench, your hand coming up to grasp right over your heart. It was pretty cheesy, yet nobody has ever tried to even attempt to ask if anything was wrong. But that was probably due to you being like a turtle in a shell. You’re always clammed up, too afraid to say or do something wrong. Just thinking about it brought you to tears as they slowly fell down. The sight caused him to worry, hesitantly getting closer, unsure if you were okay with it. But not seeing you move away, and instead lean in was practically a green light for him.

He placed his staff down, hands going up to, very carefully, hold you in his arms. His fingers ran through your hair in a soothing way as you softly mumbled small things, about how you felt, your worries, your fears. It was all too warm, like a parent’s hug after you fell and hurt your knee. It only made tears fall quicker.

“It’s okay, my child.. I’m right here..”

Small hiccups left your lips as your hold tightened around the king, his hold unwavering as well.

“There’s nothing to worry about, you’re safe here.. you are a blessed child of light, never let worries drag you to your lowest. Trust me, my child, I’ve been there before.. Now, when you’re ready to continue talking about how you feel, I’ll be here still. I’ll wait for you.”

I apologize if this was too short, or it wasn’t amazing :’(

I attempted to do it within the reach of my abilities, but I hope you still enjoyed it! I’ll never stop repeating this, but you are loved, nothing on earth will change that. There’s always someone who loves you, even when you don't realize it. You are infinite <3

[writingdevil]

Hi! For the requests, I wanted to ask for Paranoid x Hero, I love them in game and I think they could be really good for each other ^^

(YES! I ALSO LOVE THEM! I've been dying to write them, and I hope you don't mind, but I decided to put them in an AU I've been thinking about. Enjoy!)

(This is a medieval AU where the Long Quiet is a king and the voices are a part of his court)

Hero sighed as he marched down the halls of the castle, glancing up and admiring the large windows that graced him with a view of the outside, at the forest that surrounded their castle and town.

His pace slowed as he watched two birds shoot across the sky, and his own wings twitched against his armour, longing to join them and taste the sky.

But there was too much work to be done within the court.

Hero was the Captain of the Guard, and the second in command to the king of the castle. Many people apparently saw him as a beacon of light within the darkness their kingdom had been thrust into, but Hero just tried to do the right thing for the people that needed it.

He quickly ripped his gaze away from the view, so that only few memories of happier times flashed in his head-Enjoying banquets. Witnessing ceremonies. Feeling content with life.

But all of that and more had all but vanished as of late, and the entire flock had been scrambling for months now to try and get that peace and joy back.

His fellow guards-Stubborn and Hunted, were out day and night, either searching for answers or defending the kingdom from enemies who dared approach them in their vulnerable state.

Skeptic was also out for days at a time, although he worked best alone, traveling far to crawl into the darkest corners of the land, in hopes for an answer to their dilemma. Hero doesn't believe he's seen him in three weeks this time.

Hero was just beginning to think that he was going to have to send him a letter reminding him to come home soon-when he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Hero's throat closed up, and he felt every feather on his body bristle and stand to attention, as he started to quietly lose control of his breathing.

To the very left of him was the throne room.

If Hero concentrated enough, he could make out the soft breathing of him, the only evidence to tell them all that the King was even alive.

The doors were wide open, and although Hero went in there everyday, it still made a weight crush his chest. No matter how much time had passed, he couldn't get used to the sight in that throne room.

Hero was supposed to be the knight that everyone in his court could depend on, that was capable of protecting his flock-but whenever he saw him, it just reminded Hero of how much he had failed his loved ones.

He couldn't cross that room. He just couldn't. There was nobody that could make him.

He stood there for what felt like hours, stuck in a fearful paralysis-until someone quickly turned the corner on the other side of the hall to face him.

It was Cheated, panting and with a frenzied expression on his frustrated face. He didn't immediately notice Hero, head twisting around in a panic, feathers flying everywhere, until Cheated's eyes finally landed on him.

It was like a wave of relief had crashed into Cheated, as his wings sagged and his face softened into a look of reassurance.

"Hero!" he yelled, and the sound was enough to have Hero blinking back to reality. Cheated motioned for him to come closer and exclaimed, "It's Para, Hero! His magic's acting up!"

That could make him cross the room.

All at once, all the guilt and fear was ripped from his body-and Hero's mind had never been clearer as he immediately broke into a sprint, running past the throne room, only catching a black blur that rested on the throne, with eyes that hadn't opened in a long time.

Hero barely let it affect him.

He rushed past Cheated without even looking him in the eye, and Cheated scrambled to move out of the way and shouted after him, "He should be in his chambers!"

There was an intensity lingering within Hero's veins as he ran, his body knowing exactly where to go before his mind even processed his surroundings in the castle.

He knew where to go. He would always know how to find him.

He practically flew up the stairs, ripping his sword from his scabbard as he bolted over to stand in front of Paranoid's room.

He took a second to take a deep breath, forcing his voice to be calm and light as he softly knocked and said, "Para? Are you okay?"

A low whine-then, "Help me!"

Hero swore as he practically ripped the door from its hinges, marching into the room and shutting it firmly, leaving just the two of them.

Paranoid's room was dark, which was unusual for him. He was usually obsessed with being able to see a room in its entirety, for fear of something hiding in the shadows. He only pulled the curtains when Hero was in the room with him.

His gaze traveled to the floor, and although Paranoid was known to be a little disorganized and messy, his room right now looked almost disastrous. Desk flipped over, notes and books sprawled all over the floor, and Hero could pick out some very important books that he knew Paranoid would never just leave lying about.

Finally, his gaze landed on Paranoid himself.

He was kneeling on his bed, sheets twisted and thrown around him. He was clutching his head, leaning down far enough so that his forehead was touching his mattress. He kept rocking back and forth and quietly whimpering to himself.

It broke Hero's heart.

He took a cautious step forward, putting his sword away, and softly went, "Para? Are you-"

"Who's there?" Paranoid suddenly shrieked, sitting up straight while still grabbing fistfuls of his feathered head. Hero froze, if only because now he could hear just how bad Paranoid's panic attack was getting. He was panting heavily enough to make it sound raspy and guttural, and Hero winced, knowing how sore the other's throat would be after this.

"It's Hero, remember, Para? I'm here to help you. What's wrong?"

Paranoid shook his head, his body beginning to tremble. Hero watched in devastation as Paranoid started to softly cry, staring out into the distance. "I don't believe you," he mumbled, "I don't believe you. I can't believe you-" his yell was abruptly cut short, and Hero could do nothing but watch as Paranoid suddenly gasped, going silent for a few seconds, until he suddenly yelled out in fear, moving to cover his eyes now as he hunched over the bed again.

"Go away, go away, go away," Paranoid begged, his voice muffled from his position. His rocking got more intense as he whined and said, "Too many eyes, too many eyes-stop looking-leave me alone please-"

Right. That was it. Hero couldn't take this anymore.

"Para," he softly called out, "I'm going to come closer to you, okay?"

"Please please please-", was all Paranoid said, until Hero suddenly felt a wave of magic press down on him.

It felt like it was suffocating him, all this powerful and dark energy, and Hero himself struggled to breathe for a few seconds, almost tasting electricity in the air, and the edges of his face were tingling with numbness.

It was Paranoid's magic. This must be what Cheated meant by acting up.

Paranoid was one of the two strongest sorcerers in the court, along with Cold. Both of their magic was tied to the mortal body, but while Cold dealt with death and the absence of sensations, Paranoid's was all about it.

Hero's seen him cure over a thousand people with his magic, his mind intrinsically linked to the person's body, keeping them alive with a simple chant. Paranoid could reach in and grab whatever pain, curse or demons the person was suffering with, and help rid them of it.

Unfortunately, this has led to Paranoid's own mind to become-fearful because of it. The sorcerer was constantly looking over his shoulder, claiming to see enemies in places where there was nothing, and rarely trusted anyone that wasn't his flock. Sometimes his terror would get so bad that his mind and magic would be so overcome with it, and-this happens.

Hero shook his head, attempting to ignore the buzzing in the air, as he slowly came around to be in front of Paranoid. "I'm not here to hurt you, Para. I just want to help you." The only thing Paranoid did was shake his head and choke on a sob.

Hero sighed, his heart breaking at the sight. Paranoid wouldn't be having breakdowns this severe if He hadn't been cursed, if He hadn't left them to take charge of the kingdom themselves.

No matter. The only thing that Hero needed to care about right now was Paranoid.

He climbed up onto the bed, shuffling closer until their knees almost touched. "Para," he said,"what are you seeing right now?"

Paranoid didn't respond right away, hyperventilating until Hero whispered, "Para?"

That seemed to bring Paranoid just back to reality enough to move and wrap his arms around himself as he hissed, "Eyes-eyes keep watching, keep staring at me-I want them to leave me alone, Hero."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," was all Hero said, reaching forward to firmly grab Paranoid's hands, pressing them gently against Hero's heart. "I need you to look at me, sweetheart."

Paranoid choked on a sob. "I can't," he softly said, head still bowed and eyelids squeezed shut. "I can't trust if you're real or not," he whimpered, before weeping to himself, wings going slack behind him, as if he had accepted this fate.

Hero opened his mouth to try and persuade him, before he heard a crackling in the room.

Hero froze, before slowly lifting his head to look up at the ceiling.

There, in the corner of the ceiling, was a dark purple ball of magic. It wriggled and shot out here and there, and the cracking sound it made sickened Hero to his stomach. It looked like a black hole of nightmares come to swallow them into darkness-before more started to appear.

They slowly formed all around them, and Hero was about to throw Paranoid over his shoulder and rush out of the room, when Paranoid suddenly whined and started to shake his head as he mumbled, "Too many eyes, too many eyes, too many eyes-" over and over again.

Was this Paranoid's magic? Was his magic spinning so much out of control that he was accidentally manifesting eyes around them? If so, then Hero needed to get through to him now.

He took a deep breath in, then turned away from the dark orbs floating around them, putting all his attention on Paranoid.

"Para,"he said, "can you hear me? Can you hear my voice?" It took a few seconds of panicked breathing, but then Paranoid nodded.

"Good," he said, then gently moved one of Paranoid's hands so that his palm was pressing directly over his heart. "Can you feel my heartbeat?" Paranoid began to lift his head up more, and he nodded again.

"That's perfect, Para. Can you focus on my voice and my heart?" Paranoid's face scrunched up in fear. "But the eyes-"

"The eyes aren't gonna get you while I'm here. I promise." Paranoid still looked torn, so Hero leaned forward to press their foreheads together. "Do you trust me?"

Paranoid was silent for a few tense minutes,and there was only the sound of heavy breathing and snapping magic in the air. But then, Hero felt Paranoid lean into his touch. "I trust you."

Hero released a shaking breath of relief, but quickly kept his focus, closing his eyes and whispering to Paranoid, "You are in your bedroom in the castle."

He felt the magic weighing him down further, but he ignored it. "You are in your bedroom and there is nothing here that can hurt you." Paranoid released a small sob that broke Hero's heart, so he squeezed their intertwined hands to comfort him.

"There is nothing that will hurt you, Para, because I am here to protect you." He felt Paranoid curl his fingers in his chest, as if he wanted to reach in and take Hero's heart for his own.

The trembling had lessened, and Hero could feel the tears dry on his face. "Do you feel my heartbeat, Para? This heart belongs to you. It only beats for you, Para, because I love you." Hero barely noticed when the crackling began to get quieter. All he cared about in that moment was Paranoid.

He heard Paranoid take a few deep, slow breaths in, and Hero started to feel all the energy in the air begin to lighten up, until he could actually breathe and feel his face again.

He risked opening his eyes, and was met with Paranoid's tired gaze.

He grinned in relief. "Are you feeling better?" he asked, and Paranoid sighed, but nodded, rubbing his face against his shoulder.

They both lifted their heads, and Hero quickly looked up-but the dark orbs of magic had disappeared too. It truly was over.

Hero looked back at Paranoid, only to find pure exhaustion on his face, and Hero didn't blame him. He couldn't imagine how drained Paranoid must be feeling now.

He lowered their hands down to his lap, giving Paranoid a reassuring smile as he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?" A firm shake of his head. Although Hero wasn't used to Paranoid being this quiet, he just chalked it up to what just happened, and asked, "Is there anything you want me to do for you?"

Paranoid sat up straighter, turning his head to slowly take in the room around him. Hero saw the way his eyes were filled with nothing but sadness and fatigue, and he was about to offer a suggestion, when Paranoid quietly went, "You shouldn't of done this."

"What?" he asked, "What do you mean?"

"I shouldn't need you to help me control my powers." But then Hero saw a flash of hatred in Paranoid's eyes, hatred at himself for being vulnerable, it looked like.

"I'm a sorcerer. I should be able to handle my own problems. I told you I can handle my own problems-"

"-and I told you," Hero softly interrupted, cupping Paranoid's face so that he was looking at him, "when you accepted my courtship, that I would always be there to support and care for you."

Paranoid froze, looking down at Hero in soft confusion, as his feathers puffed up, making Hero smile. They held eye contact for a few moments, until Paranoid's face softened into fondness, and he muttered, "Thank you, then-for being there for me."

"I always will be, Para," Hero promised with a smile, before they both leaned closer, and kissed the other tenderly.

Hero may not have been able to protect the King, but he sure as hell will not make the same mistake with the rest of the flock, and especially not with the love of his life.

[eldraftsman]

Day 17: Favorite manga art?

I don't have a definitive favorite but I'll go with this color spread because I find the composition to be incredibly well balanced. Even though there's a significant predominance of blues in a lot of the picture, the color balance still exudes a degree of warmth that allows the image to feel like a fresh but sunny morning, fitting for the subject matter of a family picnic. Speaking of color choices, I want to take a chance to talk about Endo's color design because I find it an interesting departure from how many Shonen mangaka approach the same facet of their art, and not only makes it stand out but quite frankly more pleasant to look at (so let's share more examples below).

One of the things Shonen manga tends to do when it comes to color illustrations is to just smack the reader in the face with extremely saturated colors; the blues can get quite deep, the yellows can border on neon, and reds in particular are always jumping out of the page. This is specially prominent in nekketsu series like Naruto, One Piece, My Hero Academia and so on. It makes sense, too; these series have hot blooded characters and conflicts solved through physical confrontation nearly every time, so to have agressive color choices is only appropriate. It's also, however, rather eye straining and in the worst cases not very well balanced.

In classical painting you're first taught to control the values of your artwork with greys. The image composition and lighting have to allow the viewer to understand the image at a glance even if it's in greyscale and you're squinting at it. The points with the most intense values are of course the points of interest in the painting, but good contrast is key and that requires parts of the picture using less saturation to let what's the focus of the artwork pop. You can desaturate frames of well lit movies and see this in action: it's why Godzilla Minus One could be so easily transferred to a black and white negative.

Good cinematographers take this in consideration from the onset.

Guess Masashi Kishimoto forgot that memo for this one.

To be clear, my goal here isn't to crap on other artist or the tonal choices that fit his respective work, but this is one of the examples of these choices and trappings being pervasive in Shonen. Those reds and oranges are plain blinding, and once desaturated you can see how poorly the silhouettes read. You can distinguish Kakashi and to a lesser extent Sasuske just fine, but Naruto and specially Sakura kind of just blend with the background. Fitting as it may be, it just gives a fairly cool composition a lot of visual noise when desaturated, and makes it eyestraining when colored. Now let's compare this with one of Endo's illustrations. Namely, that beautiful winter one.

You'd expect the prevalence of whites to just swallow Bond and Anya in her white coat but that's not the case. Between well chosen accents and contrasting shadows you can squint at it's greyscale version and the image still reads flawlesly. Moreover, while those reds pop from the pale yellows and blues it's not overwhelming either. They're more saturated than the rest of the picture, sure, but they're toned down just a notch and pushed slightly to the oranges which ensures they don't come across as invasive or overtly agressive. They just are a strong point of visual interest. Another example: notice how in this Yor themed color spread the reds aren't an explosive scarlet as if it was trying to look like Dario Argento's Suspiria . Instead, even though red is through the entire image it's not straining to look at... because they're very subtly inclined towards pink and purple.

Endo just tends to favor the colors slightly aiming for a colder palette even in ilustrations when the reds are important, which makes the colors feel more relaxed. And instead of using the most agressive blacks for the lines, they're either in varying hues of sepia or blue so they blend better with the rest of the colors. Both things can be observed quite well in this beach illustration. Some of those lines are actually fairly thick but they feel soft solely because the color isn't a harsh black and in fact changes dynamically across the image.

Or this special illustration of Yor in the Garden fopr Volume 8. The roses do stand out against the primarily green and blue of the rest of the illustration, but they're soft pinks and tranquil reds, with the yellows having fairly bright values but comparably muted hues.

Heck, even in the situations where yellow is the predominant color, blue (or rather, the calmness usually tied to it) is still a factor for the color mixing in more subtle ways. Endo could've gone for a proper, deeper blue or a different shade of yellow for the sky in this illustration but chose a middle point that doesn't break the color the balance in any sort of harsh way. So the logical choice was a fairly muted lime green.

There's more than one reason why Tatsuya Endo's work is often compared to Shoujo and it's not just the slowburn romance and women with actual agency as characters. His color choices forego the obvious, agressive boldness usually associated with the demographic of his series for something much more soothing to look at. Let's remember these techniques aren't remotely exclusive to him, but the constraint behind these choices makes them stand out by virtue of being calm instead of overbearingly bold compared to his peers.

Also, if you want me to break down these or other illustrations of his in more detail I'd be more than happy to.

[tarotwithavi]

Common Manifestation Mistakes & How to Fix Them

Manifestation is a powerful tool, but many people unknowingly block their desires by making small mistakes. If you feel like your manifestations are taking too long or not working at all, it’s not because the universe isn’t listening it’s likely that something in your approach needs to shift.

1. Focusing on Lack Instead of Abundance

One of the biggest reasons manifestations don’t come true is because people focus too much on what they don’t have. When you constantly think, “I need money” or “I really want love in my life”, your energy is centered around lack. The universe responds to your vibration, so when you focus on what’s missing, you attract more of that emptiness.

How to fix it: Instead of thinking about what you don’t have, shift your focus to abundance. Act as if your desire is already on its way. If you’re manifesting financial success, start feeling abundant even before the money arrives. Express gratitude for what you already have, and trust that more is coming.

2. Not Taking Inspired Action

Many people believe manifestation is just about thinking positively and waiting for magic to happen. While mindset is important, action is equally necessary. If you want to manifest a new job, but you never apply for one, the universe has no way to bring it to you.

How to fix it: Manifestation works best when you meet the universe halfway. Take small, inspired actions toward your goals. If you’re manifesting love, work on self-love and put yourself in situations where you can meet like-minded people. If you’re manifesting success, develop skills and seek out opportunities that align with your vision.

3. Letting Doubt and Negative Thoughts Take Over

Doubt is one of the biggest blockers of manifestation. If you set an intention but constantly think, “What if this doesn’t work?” or “Maybe I’m not lucky enough”, you are sending mixed signals to the universe.

How to fix it: Reprogram your mind with positive affirmations. Whenever a doubtful thought arises, counter it with something positive. Instead of saying, “What if my manifestation never comes?”, say, “What if it happens even better than I imagined?” Faith and belief are key in the manifestation process.

4. Being Impatient and Checking Too Often

Many people get frustrated when they don’t see instant results. They keep asking, “Where is my manifestation?” and constantly look for signs. This energy of impatience actually pushes the manifestation away because it shows a lack of trust in the universe.

How to fix it: Trust that your desire is on its way, even if you don’t see immediate results. Let go of the need to control when and how it will happen. The universe has perfect timing, and often, things are aligning behind the scenes before they manifest in your reality.

5. Manifesting from a Low-Vibrational State

Your emotional state plays a big role in manifestation. If you try to manifest while feeling sad, anxious, or frustrated, your energy is not aligned with what you want. You end up attracting more situations that match those low emotions.

How to fix it: Before setting an intention, raise your vibration. Do things that make you feel happy and aligned, such as listening to uplifting music, spending time in nature, practicing gratitude, or meditating. Manifestation works best when you are in a state of joy and trust.

6. Being Too Attached to a Specific Outcome

Sometimes, people get too fixated on a very specific outcome, which limits the universe’s ability to bring them something even better. For example, someone might be manifesting a specific job at a specific company, but the universe may have an even better opportunity waiting for them.

How to fix it: Be open to different possibilities. Instead of saying, “I want this exact job”, say, “I attract the perfect career opportunity that aligns with my highest good.” When you trust the universe’s plan, you allow better things to flow into your life.

7. Forgetting to Practice Gratitude

A lot of people focus so much on what they want that they forget to appreciate what they already have. This creates a sense of dissatisfaction, which lowers your vibration and slows down manifestation.

How to fix it: Make gratitude a daily habit. Every morning or before bed, take a moment to acknowledge the blessings in your life. The more grateful you are, the more the universe gives you to be grateful for.

[fanzou]

To Be Vigilant

✗ Pairing: Zoro Roronoa x GN!Reader

✗ Genre: Fluff

✗ Total WC: 0.8K

“‘N…. I don’t know, he’s just so… handsome and masculine and so great in all the right ways.” You say so dreamily, palm propping your head up.

Robin just takes it all in, not ‘cause she wants to. But because she has to. She really does love you. Truly. Had it been anyone else she’d probably grow just a smidge irritated. Well, not like she wasn’t right now. This, here, right now, her zen time? She’d likely pick up a book and enjoy her favorite drink and go to town, and that was the initial plan—but alas, here you were talking about Zoro like a schoolgirl in love.

So yeah, she was a smidge irritated but she’d tolerate it, for you.

“Do you want me to stop talking about him?” You smile, sheepishly while tracing the outline of the wooden table.

If Nami was here, she’d answer with the most blunt and straightforward, YES! ever. Pity for Robin that she wasn’t there to accompany the two of you.

She smiles back, just a little lighter. “I can’t promise I won’t cancel you out while you do.”

You whine her name, resting your head on her shoulder while she swirls her coffee around with a spoon, you have a light grip of her arm.

Like seriously, if it were anyone else.

“Why don’t you tell him how you feel?” Would be the logical approach, and she, by all means, is right. But you often defied logic, many times reaping the consequences. This was one of those times. “You never truly know what he might be thinking.”

“That’s just it. It could go so wrong!”

“It could also go right.” She peers down at your desperate figure, clinging onto her like she was your life-line.

Shit, couldn’t argue with that.

You sigh in a last effort of defiance, “I think I’m fine with liking him from a distance. It’s not doing me any harm right now,” you resume in your own activity—that being fiddling with your fingers, pulling away from the black-banged woman. “Yeah… I mean, watching him work out in the Crow’s Nest is kinda hot.” She giggles at your remark. Wow, that’s kinda surprising.

She’d probably regret it though, it grants you a chance to egg the topic on, “There’s something so charming about his attitude and personality, though. Like he could be such a good boyfriend—No, he’d be a great husband.”

Robin says nothing, a little hm, flipping to the next page over.

And this is where you kinda start feeling bad, it’s not the first she’s gotten an ear load about how dreamy and handsome you thought Zoro was. Probably wouldn’t be the last, either. You’ve yapped Nami’s ear off about it and she was not as generous when it came to your rambles. Partially because there was so much she could take and partially because she cringed at how highly you spoke of him. She couldn’t take it anymore, so… you moved onto your next victim. A voice of reason, (like you’d ever listen to reason anyways.) Robin.

Surprisingly she speaks, “You should be more careful with where you say things.”

…Okay? You look back up to her after your arms are crossed over the other with your cheek leaning on top for a little duration of time, and get a look at the woman as an effort to make her push a little further into her statement.

But she doesn’t. Abruptly Robin stands from her seat, she closes her book and brings her coffee with her. She looks over to the door, as if someone was there—then to you.

“I wish you the best of luck with the swordsman.”

You giggle, “You say that like he’s—”

Oh.

Oh.

And then your worst fears come true. You lose vision of her, and then it’s replaced with the thief of your heart.

Oh shit.

His tone is condescending, and he lifts his head up as if to mock you, “Like I’m?” His shoulder is leaning against the door frame of the room; you’re frozen in place. Eyes as wide as flying saucers, hands gripping the nearby surface. You whimper very slightly.

Shit, was this her plan all along? Was that why she giggled at what you said? She wasn’t really trying to egg you on to speak anymore but, it was so perfect. She did this on purpose, get you to spill in possibly the most convenient time possible. You should’ve known. She’s never taken interest like this before.

And how couldn’t you sense his presence?!

Your palms are sweaty, you’re hot all over, “Like… like…” But he only grins, and it’s so sadistic, he takes delight in your shocked state. He’s truly the devil.

“Guessin’ we’ve got lots to talk about, huh?”

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

So like I've been having a really serious internal conversation about this with myself and @luulapants let me know if I'm distracting from rather than adding to here, I'll happily budge over to another post.

There's this debate that rolls through the activist community every few years about "changing the system from within" and whether or not it's a useful approach. I have always had a REALLY hard time with this conversation for reasons that are hard to convey to others but I'm gonna try here:

It is absolutely not debateable that systems change and dictate the actions of the individuals operating it, regardless of their praxis or moral approach because the literal function of systems like this is to muffle the variations and standard deviations across a societal need area, for better and for worse. You cannot change a system from within because internally these systems are stagnant and atrophying relics of "stability" implemented overtop a world of immeasurable and uncontrollable variables

Most people who are accused of "wanting to change the system from within" are being assigned a strawman, not an honest reading of their motivation and praxis. I know this because *I* get accused of doing this all the time and I have absolutely NEVER attempted to institute systemic change from the inside of the system, even on the rare occasions my action was strictly legislative or judicial. There is, for MANY OF US a difference between "this system will continue to exist with or without me until it is forced to change by external factors, and in the meantime real human beings are still depending on this system to survive, and I genuinely do not believe it is reasonable to ask us to abandon them as casualties of the system while we restrict out action from the outside. This is where multi-prong movements that were affiliated and loosely coordinated while operating in entirely different spheres of friction and resistance (aka diversity of tactics) comes in. For my classic example, you can see the voting rights activists over the 1800s and 1900s splitting organizations into militants, congressional relationships, community organization, and Martyrs. While these groups were rarely formally affiliated, the people in them knew each other, often shared strategy with each other, and acted of not in coordination than at least in awareness of what the other prongs of the movement were doing.

The question of whether or not "changing the system from the inside" is feasible is the WRONG question. The right question is "what do we do about the fact that, regardless of what you as an individual may believe about the role of these governing and authoritative bodies (I believe some not great things folks!), almost every single person living here has a loved one who is dependent on the functioning of these systems, or is dependent on those systems themselves. When they are attacked, what are the material implications for those under whom it creates a floor (whether with aid, employment, programs/"supports", etc)?"

What is the benefit and to whom of people in activism spaces deciding that anyone who is still affiliated with/employed by the federal government is an ideological traitor and doesn't deserve inclusion in or access to spaces of solidarity?

It is very important to me that I continue to do what I have always done and care for/support the people I am able to in the ways I am able to, and a far more pervasive amount of that than I think young activists may realize does include the apocraphyl lesbian who worked for Bush senior when he was considering banning queers from federal employment who told him "me and many other extremely important staffers will be removed if you do this", and we got Don't Ask Don't Tell instead. Was DADT good?? Fuck no. But the fed was GOING to hurt us some how. The queers "on the inside" were able to shift and transmute that harm, and the queers "on the outside" were able to challenge it and exentually end it.

I don't know that I have a point here and I certainly don't think I'm the grand arbiter of technique and strategy here but like.

My goal is to keep as many people alive as I can for as long as possible. Why does it feel like some folks chose the goal "be the most moral all the time without taking the time to understand the moral/ethical dilemmas actually being faced"?

Some of you are falling hard for the Trump/Musk anti-federal worker propaganda. I think part of the problem is that a lot of people genuinely don't know how the federal government works, so here's an overview on the intended and current state of the so-called fourth branch of government, the federal bureaucracy:

Executive agencies are considered to be within the executive branch, officially, but can only be created, disbanded, funded, and have new leadership appointed through congressional approval. Well, in theory that is.

The majority of staff in federal agencies are called "career staff" who are nonpolitical civil servants who do every kind of work you can imagine, from IT to accounting to scientific field work to livestock inspections to nursing at VA hospitals. They do not, typically, change from one administration to the next, which is essential to ensure the government is able to continue functioning without interruption. These individuals of course can and do hold their own political opinions, but there are stringent rules on how, when, and where they can express them. It is arguably the most racially diverse workforce in the country. Many are veterans, and many are disabled.

Each agency is headed by a political office appointed by the president and confirmed by Congress. This includes a Secretary or Administrator and all of their hand-picked office staff, who are called "politicals." However, even before Congress confirms the president's nominee, the president can appoint an interim leader with no approval, who has essentially all the same powers but can't hold the position for very long. In short, even in those offices where a leader has not been confirmed by Congress, they are being led by Trump appointees.

When Trump makes an Executive Order, those orders are immediately dispensed through the executive agencies, who must abide by the letter of the order. I saw someone say NPS was "complying in advance" by taking the T off LGBT, but these changes were made across all agencies in direct response to Trump's "Defending Women" order. Any career who did not follow this order would have immediately been fired with cause, no unemployment eligibility, and in the current environment we also know their position would be permanently dissolved.

This is what we're dealing with right now. Trump (and his puppet master Musk) do not have the authority to dissolve government agencies, but they are trying to gut them, harassing careers and making the public turn against them, conducting illegal firings, threatening them into resigning. When people leave, their positions will disappear. Their intent is to diminish the staff until the agencies are non-functional. That's why careers are picking their battles. We're holding on by our fingernails to keep federal agencies alive and functioning. We're in the midst of a hostile takeover, a literal coup of the US government.

Yes, it's awful the T was removed on the website. We don't want this. But I promise that is small potatoes compared to the other battles being fought. I have trans coworkers being forced back to the office and they don't know what bathroom they can use. Our personal information is being leaked to hate groups. Careers are getting threats and spam to their work and personal emails. Most of us expect to be illegally fired. Soon. Last week was the largest layoff in American history, and it's just the beginning.

Please support federal workers. We are under attack.