#edit: wanted to see how many reblogs it was off from your addition

[theshadowrealmitself]

I adore when I see blogs I recognize on other posts that organically come on to my dashboard

[copperbadge]

Well, Still Salty.

I was cranky yesterday and I thought a good night's sleep would provide some adjustment in perspective, but unfortunately "spending yesterday not on tumblr" also offered perspective and got there first.

Up front: feel free to comment or reblog on this post (replies may be heavily delayed) but if you feel the urge to Like, I'm going to ask you to take one more step and go to https://www.tumblr.com/support, select "feedback" as the category, and enter a line or two about the new dash. It can be as simple as "Your new dash design is difficult to use and is driving people off the site". I'm not asking everyone to do it, but if you're going to Like this post, that would be a helpful action in addition. You can delete any response they send; no reason to expose yourself to the unique combination of incompetence and condescension with which they handle feedback generally.

Also up front: yeah, if I find somewhere else to go and go there, I will certainly let you guys know beforehand, I'm not going to just evaporate. I'll be broadcasting about Tumblr's replacement on Tumblr very heavily. But I can't deny that it is now an active goal of mine to find a viable replacement for this site. (More on this in a moment.) You will always be able to find me on AO3 as copperbadge, or via copperbadge@gmail.com. (More on this in a moment also.)

This kind of thing is why I refuse to fuck with staff now or ever; I don't trust them and I never will. Watching @wip respond to almost every complaint or suggestion with "but that would be really hard" is telling. Whoever is pushing blocks around at Tumblr wants a lucrative site that's easy to code, but lucrative is hostile to community and code is difficult by nature, and when the architecture of the meeting hall is hostile and cheap, people don't stick around.

I've been watching the site as every change made it incrementally worse, from a buggy post window that doesn't allow ease of editing to the new dash (which is the reason I'm writing this in a text window off Tumblr). I genuinely do not think I can use desktop Tumblr like this unless I can install something that will put it back the way it was, and roughly 40% of the content you guys get HAS to come through desktop. It's impossible to do on a phone or so time-consuming it's not worth it. I cannot code Radio Free Monday on a phone; it's a struggle to code it on a single-monitor laptop (I usually write it on my work computer, where I have two monitors). Even writing image IDs on the phone is difficult and something I rarely do. Tumblr is becoming an actively difficult place for me to make content, introducing friction left and right.

But where does one go? I've tried other platforms and they're either worse to use or they don't have the constituency. The problem with a lot of discourse around internet addiction is that it often points out how glued people are to their phones without asking what it is they're doing on those phones. I'm not addicted to social media; I don't doomscroll, I don't care what celebrities have to say, I don't find 140 characters useful or interesting, I don’t find most “funny” videos very interesting. I create a lot of original content for public consumption, significantly more than many social media users, and if that becomes difficult, then the site suffers more than I do. But it's undeniable that social media, and this social media in specific, is where my people are, and yeah, I like seeing you all every day. It makes it difficult to leave even when Tumblr is the best of a bad set of options.

It seems like a lot of the internet, lately, is the best of a bad set of options.

All that said, Tumblr forced a sudden, unwanted, and unchangeable reskin on me a day after I listened to a two-hour podcast about addiction while working on building a newsletter system for my author site. I spent the evening before this happened in contemplation of my relationship to social media and to my readership and how I might alter it to my benefit regardless of whether that's also to Tumblr's detriment. Their poor timing, I suppose. A lot of the theories advanced on the podcast were, to put it kindly, bunk, but one of the suggestions for people questioning their relationship to an activity was a dopamine fast -- removing something in your life that gives you quick but unsustained dopamine hits, so that you can take some time to level out and examine your behaviors. On the one hand, that's not at all how dopamine works; from the jump it's a bad theory. But on the other, pulling back from something you think may be causing you difficulty is generally speaking a good tactic.

Removing myself from Tumblr yesterday was an active process: because I have ADHD and often will forget something exists if I don't systematize my engagement with it, Tumblr is normally pinned to my browser, with the app on my phone's top screen. Removing the app and closing the window meant that while I occasionally reached for Tumblr, it was less frequently than I expected, and the lack of access reminded me why I wasn't there. I missed you guys, but I didn't miss getting distracted from work by my dash, or the pressure to respond to the volume of communication I receive through the site daily. I don't think my use of tumblr as my sole social media has been unhealthy, per se, but certainly yesterday felt both quieter and calmer after I walked away.

But that's a temporary relief, because you are my community, and not only do I not want to leave my community, it's a resource for me. One of the reasons I do things like Radio Free Monday and the weekly Hug on Saturdays is that I try to make sure that resource is reciprocal. Leadership involves service. Leaving would be easy in the short term, but in the long term, leaving my community without having another place to meet it, or another community to go to, would be harmful to both of us. I'm already someone who isolates, and while I have a strong brickspace circle of friends, they fulfill sometimes different needs.

Though I do appreciate the wild vote of confidence from the comments to my last post telling me people would come with me where I went. That means a lot to me. I will attempt to make it either unnecessary or as painless as possible. Just know, I see your faith and friendship and I appreciate it.

Sometimes at my old job I'd be in very tumultuous meetings where a lot was discussed and not much agreed on, and the most useful thing to me was always to say, "What are our next steps? What would you like me to do because of this meeting?" So what are next steps, all this being the case?

First, I'm going to be off Tumblr, mostly, for another couple of days, because clearly I need the break and a few days won't matter too much. Again, I will be back either to continue on the site or to let you guys know, at length and volume, where I'm headed. The former is much more likely.

Second, I'm going to be actively looking for both a widget I can install to reset the dash (recommendations welcome, I currently don't even use xkit) and a wholly new platform that's a realistically viable alternative. Even if the dash gets reset, the shitty post editor is here for good. Attempts to source alternative platforms in the past have taught me that it needs to have a mobile-friendly site or an app, a similar structure to tumblr, and a reasonable chance of actually attracting users. That's a heavy venn diagram unlikely to be fulfilled anytime soon, but I'm now invested in finding it, instead of just passively waiting for it to happen to me (as Tumblr did when it pulled me off LJ).

Third, I do have an email newsletter in the works! I'm just wrestling currently with setting up how people sign up for it. This wasn't meant to be "my main broadcast platform"; it's meant to be a once-monthly email to share book news, targeted at people who aren't on socials or who just really love content from me, I guess. :D The plan was for me to assure Tumblr users that it was not extra content, just select content repackaged into a digest. But it will be one way to ensure that if I'm moving around outside of Tumblr, you'll know about it. I hope to have a link to a signup page soon. (I'm....dealing with some code issues.)

Fourth, I'm going to be combing through the last ten years I've spent here and pulling anything I think is of value into an archive. For now everything will remain here as well, and I'll let you guys know if I think that's going to change, but it's clear that this space is moving only one direction, towards a place I can't exist, and when/if it crumbles I want to have already evacuated what's important.

So there you go. I'll possibly be posting sporadically (the Saturday Hugs are queued six months in advance so that'll happen) but if nothing else and if not sooner, I'll be back full-time next week starting with Radio Free Monday. I appreciate your patience and your kindness in the meantime!

[touhoucrackmonth]

Welcome to the first Touhou Crack Month!

Are you bored of conventional ships? Do you want more spice in Touhou works? Are you a writer up to a challenge? Do you want to try something completely new for a change? Do you want to see utter chaos reign? Whatever your reason is, welcome to the first edition of the Touhou Crack Month!

What is this event?

This is a month-long event where writers are given randomly-generated crack pairings, and have to desperately wrangle with whatever insane ship the RNG gods have wrought upon them.

The goal of this event is to celebrate creativity, originality and adaptability in shipping, and spawn many crackfics for readers and writers alike to enjoy!

Proceedings

The event lasts the whole month of March, starting on March 1st at 00:01 and ending on April 1st at midnight (both CET), so all fics should be published before that deadline. Each participant will get randomly-generated pairings to write fics about. All participants will receive different pairings, though a single participant can receive multiple pairings with shared characters.

Participants are encouraged to write several fics (up to 4) throughout the month, but there is no small contribution to this crackmonth! If you want to try your hand at a crackship but don't think you'll have the time to write more than one story, that's perfectly fine!

Please reblog and share this post with anyone you think might be interested!

Guide for potential participants (keep reading)

To participate, simply sign up using the form provided near the end of this post. In there, you can select different options to customize your event. First is a 'difficulty' setting:

Easy: you will receive 4 randomly-generated pairings, with one to choose from for your fic.

Normal: same as Easy, but with 3 pairings.

Hard: same as Normal, but with 2 pairings.

Lunatic: same as Normal, but with only 1 pairing, which means you have no choice!

You are not required to disclose your chosen difficulty, nor should you be judged for it.

You also have options to exclude some characters, for instance if you know them too little, or if you don't want to write ship content involving them. It's important you fill this in correctly, as the pairings that are sent to you are final and non-negotiable!

Completed fics are to be published to the official Touhou Crack Month 2024 collection.

If you're done with a fic and wish to write another one, simply apply again once the fic for your previous pairing has been published to the collection. You can only write up to 4 fics during the month.

Eligible pairings

Generally, eligible pairings are those where the two characters have no significant canon dialogue, interactions or strong backstory links (the latter case covers pairings such as Miko/Saki). Generic, one-off fight banter generally doesn't count (especially relevant for playable characters), nor does VS mode-exclusive dialogue (not counted as canon), nor do very brief manga/print work scenes (for instance the big banquet of Silent Sinner in Blue).

Additionally, the characters shouldn't be successive bosses in the same game (e.g. Wriggle/Mystia, Doremy/Sagume) on account of how relatively popular those pairings tend to be. In any case, the pairing should also have strictly less than 5 AO3 works under its tag(s), if applicable.

This event is yuri (F/F) only; male characters are excluded. Non-humanoid characters are also excluded unless otherwise specified by individual participants.

Note that these rules aren't exhaustive and there may be some pairings that we reserve the right to include or exclude when generating the prompts.

General fic rules

No NSFW, no pedophilic content. No incest (though all such pairings are ineligible anyway).

Beyond those no-brainers, there is no particular restriction on themes.

FORM LINK

The sign-up form is available at this link. Make sure to read the previous explanations!

For any additional questions, just send an ask and we will try to answer the best we can!

[abby118]

List of improvements I'd like to see on Tumblr (in no particular order):

disclaimer: I really enjoy using Tumblr, I've been here for over a decade, and these are just my personal suggestions. For being a free website, we've got plenty of options available already. Staff, please don't shoot me, thank you.

Applying to both the browser and the app version:

a working tag search

restrictions that would allow gifs above 10Mb, more than 100 links and 1+ video per post

an archive for the like section

the option to like replies

improved refreshing rate of messages in dms

the ability to reply to specific messages in dms

decreased upload time and increased resolution of videos

being able to remove a portion of a thread without having to remove all of the rebloged additions (this comes in handy when deactivated blogs are involved and you can't reblog from them to remove reblogs connected to their reblog)

older posts displaying people's tags in the notes (I believe this is a bug rather than a missing option, they only show as plain reblogs now)

the option to edit share-created posts' tags in the same way as ones created directly in Tumblr (applying to videos)

being able to message from a password-protected side-blog

the option to choose who sees your likes and following in addition to the already available display and hide options

being able to add an admin/member to a main blog, not just the sides (for example, when you want to have access from two accounts)

being able to search by more than a single tag, write commas in tags

being able to reposition your pfp

the where were we? feature for the like section

being able to click on a post under a tag in the trending list preview and actually seeing the post

searching a tag on your blog and seeing how many posts are under said tag (kind of like in the archive)

sending asks from side blogs

App-specific:

an archive (for both posts and likes)

the option to choose from the full range of browser-available colour palettes

the ability to edit tags without having to delete and rewrite them

being able to search by post type (in a blog's refine search option) rather than having to type a tag first

refine search adding an ask option

the image limit per post (10) being closer to the browser one (30)

the option to add image description before posting

the linked source of a picture showing

being able to edit a blog's description containing HTML without losing the code

being able to block people from side blogs

shuffle working in the app

a text editor (I'll add a photo because I know some of you don't know we've got this option)

Browser-specific:

the option to crop a picture before posting

the trending list displaying all 9 categories instead of 8

the ability to view the tags of a post in the mass post editor before clicking on it to edit said tags (preferrably by hovering your cursor over said post)

being able to change the order of featured tags

I am certain I forgot a good few but these were the ones I could think of off the top of my head. If you want to add to this, feel free.

[yukipri]

Shriek Hawk Wing Muscles Take Flight, Brothers All - A Winged!Clones AU

~~

Text version of what's on the images + additional comments beneath the cut!

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog! Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!!!

❀ You can see the rest of my art including the rest of this AU through the Masterpost pinned to the top of my blog!

~~

Text on the images:

1) Human Clone Body (non AU)

Here we have Cody as an example of a human clone to establish our baseline.

We'll be using him to see how winged clones, or "Shriek Hawks," have different physiology.

(Thank you for your assistance, Cody!)

2) Human Clone + Wings

This is how Cody would look if we just tacked wings onto him, perhaps how we'd expect him to look.

But his torso only shows the muscles that a standard human would have, so this doesn't really work.

Let's take a closer look.

3) Featherless Wing: Approximate Wing Muscles

Rough base musculature of the wing under the feathers (Cody's arm has been removed for better visibility).

The base of wings are both thicker and longer than legs.

(Cursed image, I'm so sorry Cody.)

4) Wing Muscles on Chest

An example of roughly where wing muscles may extend.

*DISCLAIMER: These images are for artistic exploration only. The artist is fully aware this would not work either, and is prioritizing "what looks cool and hot" over "how to make this dude actually look like he could fly."

5) Shriek Hawk Torso Muscles

As a result of the massive wings on their backs, Shriek Hawks must therefore necessarily have extra muscles on their chests. Here, the wing muscles go under his chest muscles for his arms, creating an extra ridge along his ribs. His chest muscles are pushed outwards due to the extra layer of muscles underneath.

In some ways, Shriek Hawks are closer in physiology to other 6-limbed species like Besalisks than humans.

(You can have your arm back.)

(Also this super doesn't work but we're ignoring that.)

6) Human vs Shriek Hawk

Torso Comparison

7) Wing Feathers Extended Onto the Torso

In addition to their wing muscles, Shriek Hawks also have feathers that extend from their wings, onto their backs, and across their torsos.

These feathers serve dual purposes:

1) The "living beskar" properties of the feathers help provide additional protection on their bodies.

2) Shriek Hawks were hunted to near extinction for their valuable wings. The living beskar feathers wrapping onto their torsos makes it almost impossible to remove a Shriek Hawk's wings without first killing them, as like metal beskar, living beskar cannot be cut while Shriek Hawks are alive. Because killing a  Shriek Hawk will cause their feathers to automatically lose the properties that make them valuable in the first place, this discouraged hunters from going after them.

*Some Shriek Hawks, like Jango Fett, are from a sub-species that lose beskar qualities in their feathers even when alive if their feathers are taken without consent. However, knowledge of this quirk of their feathers is limited, and after the start of the Clone Wars, many hunters tried and failed to cut the wings off from living clones.

**Not in the image, but: these feathers are extensions of the wing feathers, and are therefore different from "body feathers" that take the place of human body hair. These feathers will therefore reflect the diverse colors and patterns present in their wings.

~~

Additional Notes:

The feathers on Cody's torso are a bit difficult to see, because the colors of his feathers are close to his skin tone when not hit by light. Many other clones have far more visible feathers, like Waxer (cream) or Rex (dark blue).

If you look at bird physiology, most flying birds have rib cages that are very deep front-back (vs humans who have more horizontally wide rib cages). This is kind of needed in order to support their massive chest muscles for their wings. If I actually wanted to make it look like the Shriek Hawks could fly, I would change their rib cage shape (and probably make their arms tiny like T-Rex arms, and make their legs skinny and light like crane legs, and make their torsos and spines shorter, etc), but this would really start veering away from "humanoid," so I didn't.

Likewise, the "layered muscles" thing wouldn't work at all, they'd get in the way of each other! Really, they should have a whole additional chest for their wings. But that would kinda make them start looking like insects, and again my priority is "keep them looking hot" and less super realistic muscles, so eh. Please ignore. In the SW universe, species like Toydarians can fly too and they definitely don’t make anatomical sense, so whatever ahahahah.

After drawing the cursed plucked Cody wing, I also thought a lot about how terribly unbalanced they would be. The key that made me really think about it is to think of wings like a pair of legs stuck to your back, except they're even bigger, longer, and more muscular than your actual legs. That would not only be heavy as fuck, they'd probably constantly have back pain and be falling over backwards unless they're constantly leaning forward. Their bodies can't be too light or their wings will tip them backwards, but at the same time, their bodies can't be too heavy either or they won't be able to fly. Again this is another one of those things where we just smile and nod and move along :)

Another thing I thought about while drawing this is if they're really more bird-like than mammal-like, they really shouldn't have nipples or belly buttons, assuming they come from eggs. But I suppose the fact that I want to draw nips and buttons states that they're closer to human in that regard, which is fine, because they have interbred with humans, so it would make more sense for near-mammal to be more compatible with humans. This is the SW universe, and I expect creature categories to be more diverse than what we have on Earth anyway.

I also wanted to make another comment about the wing feathers extending onto their torsos. The non-wing "hair-like" body feathers do provide some protection, but not as much as these flatter more "feather-like" feathers that actually completely cover and hide their skin. So then you may ask, wouldn't it be better, from an evolutionary standpoint, if their bodies were also covered in feathers?

And the answer is yes, absolutely! The ancestors of our clones were once very much entirely covered in colorful feathers like that on their wings. However, going back to the history of Shriek Hawks, they're native to Mandalore and were hunted by humans. In order to survive, many of them joined the Mandalorians, thus interbreeding with humans and other non-Shriek Hawk species. Jango's ancestors also bred with Mandalorians. This is significant because it means that the Shriek Hawks relevant to this AU co-evolved with Mandalorians who, surprise surprise! wear beskar armor. Having both living beskar + beskar armor is redundant, and Shriek Hawks began to lose their heavier plumage in the areas where they would wear armor, aka their "human" parts. The only really exposed parts would have been their wings, and again, enough feathers on their backs/around their bodies to prevent hunters from attempting to hack off their wings at the root. So in many ways, how "human" our boys look is a direct result of their Mandalorian ancestry, and I think that's neat!

Kinda relatedly, you'd think that growing out hair (feathers) and facial hair (feathers) would be more protective, and sure, it would, but again the boys' buckets are already stuffed with feathers and I guess feathers rubbing on feathers is kind of uncomfortable. Usually, in combat situations they're fully armored, so it's fine (Looking at u, bald as an egg Waxer).

Also wanted to mention that I deeply contemplated just drawing Cody without undies, because I mean, again he has pubic feathers that cover his dick and all. But I wimped out LMAO!

~~

For full context, please check out the AO3 Compilation for this AU, which not only has the images, but the fics as well!

Thanks for reading!

[scoops-aboy86]

20 Questions for Writers

I was tagged by @steviewashere, wahoo!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

19.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

68,563. 

Which, given that I made the account in January, means I’ve written an average of about 13,713 words a month. 😵‍💫🤓

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stranger Things exclusively, except for like. That one itty bitty crossover with Good Omens, but that was more of a thought post on here than an actual fic. All Steddie, with occasional dashes of Buckingham or Ronance.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Love Language and Twice Shy are tied for 1st, which is cute. The latter isn’t really wg related and, amusingly, has fewer comments and bookmarks than the former. 

Window, which I swear I will write a part 2 for someday. Probably. I want to, cross my heart, I’m just… easily distracted sometimes. 

Office Baking, which is part of a collab with the lovely @hotluncheddie

All About the Bounce in My Step, another one with a part 2 on my WIPs list. The title came from an AJR song that has… nothing to do with the fic really, it was just one of the first songs I heard on Pandora after I finished editing it and needed a title in order to post.

Kitchen Pig. Perhaps the most, uh… “contains mean comments about someone’s weight” of my fics, purely because Tommy and Carol are involved. I was kind of nervous about posting it. Glad I did though.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try! Sometimes it requires a lot of a particular kind of energy that I don’t already have, but I like to acknowledge that someone took the time to leave me some words, even if my response is just heart emojis or something. 

If you've commented and I haven't responded yet, it's somewhere on my to do list.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uh… The first chapter of Not Dating, for sure, because it was originally intended as a one-shot. Or maybe Twice Shy because one little reassurance (however genuine and however accepted) is definitely not enough to untangle the knot of Steve’s trust issues. Hashtag thanks Nancy. 

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ooh, tough one, because I always go for the happy ending sooner or later. (Even with angst, I crave that sweet sweet resolution.) Maybe Seven Christmases though, because the whole thing is so family focused and caretaking and indulgent all the way through. 

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Surprisingly, no. I guess I’m doing a good enough job with easily blockable tags and staying in my lane—by which I mostly mean, if I reblog something that sparks kinky thoughts, I put them in a separate post so the people who see it are mostly those who seek it out. 

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Heh, mostly smut that involves eating too much and getting off to that.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Literally just that one Good Omens post, where rockstar Eddie has brought chubby Steve to The Ritz or something, and Crowley or Aziraphale overhears Eddie calling him "angel" and miracles an extra dish onto their table, as a treat.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. But I don’t lock my ao3 posts, so if they’re being scraped then I guess I am doing my part in making AI weird. 

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of. That would be kind of cool.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not a ton, but @hotluncheddie and I have written some stuff back and forth, notably Office Baking. 

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Steddie! With additional spaces carved out in my heart for Buckingham, platonic Stobin, and platonic Hellcheer. 

Ronance is alright, I have nothing against it, but in my heart I feel that Nancy has been consistently in one relationship or another since she slept with Steve in the first season. She’s been through a ton since then, grown up a lot, and become an incredibly different person… I just think she needs some time with herself to figure out who that is and what she wants. 

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you will?

Never admit defeat, never surrender. 

I never mean to leave things unfinished, I’m just, yeah. Easily distracted. I also have a full time job, a partner, and seven furry children… It’s a lot to juggle sometimes.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Banging out the tunes story. And then—I read someone describe it this way once, can’t remember when or where—going back over it like a painting and filling in more details, building up the layers until it’s got more texture, like a Van Gogh. Like, when I wrote Trick & Treat, I got most of the way through writing it before going back and working in their costumes. And that became a huge part of the fic! Also, originally I forgot part of the prompt and wrote Steve only getting as far as a downstairs bathroom instead of his bedroom. 

Yes, I know, technically I am just describing editing. But I like thinking of it as adding texture. 

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Ugh, settings. I’m usually pretty good with dialogue and what the characters are doing, but I really have to think about where they are. 

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I only know English and the bare minimum of Spanish to get enough credits to graduate high school, so… Some bits of other languages sometimes, like slang that I’ve verified through online research, and I’ll run things back and forth in Google Translate a few times to try and keep it from coming out too garbled, but eh. If it’s extensive I’d probably switch to italics or special brackets to indicate another language, unless the main pov character doesn’t speak it and isn’t intended to know what it means without an in-story translation. 

That’s just what I do, I don’t give a fig what other writers choose to do as long as it’s consistent within each story.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

As a wg kink writer, Stranger Things. In general, I started with the works of one Douglas Adams back in college. 

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Oh god, I’m so indecisive… Seven Christmases makes me feel all warm inside, I’m really proud of that one. 

I’ve seen this making the rounds lately and everyone I can think of has probably been tagged already, but… @hotluncheddie @tangerinesteve @pearynice @lingeringmirth, no pressure!

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Pat Tillman Awards Outfit Fixing by u/rangerhorsetug

Pat Tillman Awards Outfit Fixing This was at the top of my list once the pictures went around but I had some important things to get done and approaching deadlines that needed to be seen to. Thank you Photobuff42 for your messages- I am so glad that you reached out and wanted to see these fixed! I will be doing another addition soon with more outfits that is currently being worked on, but since the Pat Tillman awards just happened, I thought that I should get this one out. Many have noticed I often put Meghan in green- it is a shout out to her want of the emerald tiara, her being green with envy over Catherine, Princess of Wales, Diana's engagement portrait dress so she has a signature color kind of like how Catherine's is somewhat sapphire due to her engagement ring. I also put her in green to make her look like the word salad she often spews. She tries to look like a green flag, but is a bright red one- at least this way she is trying to blend in XDBeforehttps://preview.redd.it/w0nkaiqks6dd1.jpg?width=683&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=49f321cbd064e660abccfd2c0a46d3c1631c556cToo baggy, the claw, and as you can kind of see, her shoes are too small as her toes hand off. Plus, there is no black anywhere else on this outfit. Also, where is the color she couldn't wear?Fixed:https://ift.tt/FlQoJBd I kept their bodyguards and groupies (I found them in separate photos from the night hovering around), I just thought it would be best if they weren't there and let the veterans of invictus be there accepting the award. I know it is kind of sloppy, but this isn't my profession. I did look up what the seats looked like at the hall that they were at and edited them in there.Alternatively:https://ift.tt/TSDcZJ2 the color, fixed the shoes, fixed the fit and wrinkles, fixed the neckline. Yes she looks very shiny, but look at her face and its shine. I also added a necklace. Before:https://ift.tt/WE4X3Tn cut off their necks, which doesn't do either of them any favors. The seamlines on Meghan's dress is puckering which means its too tight, plus the other wrinkles. What is that diagonal seam line near the bottom which only looks like it was prematurely hacked off and had to be reattached since there is no contrasting or accent color added. For Serena, the scales look cool but the feathers/hair stuff going on- it just gives me the ick and puts my teeth on edge- almost like algae forming on animals/stones. Fixed:https://ift.tt/PRTOzn7 is a nice silk that keeps that deep red-blood red shine, but a lowered neckline and added sleeve caps helps to break up the shoulders. Meghan's color is changed to a wonderful golden champagne, the neckline is fixed. A wide v that slightly elongates the neck but also breaks up the shoulders, allowing them to be shown but not be such a bad focal point. Wrinkles smoothed and that diagonal seam at the bottom had been eliminated. It is still a neutral color, but it is something different from black white and beige and is appropriate for an awards ceremony. I also added a necklace.I hoped you guys liked this edition- I think I know what everyone's favorites will be! Sound off or message me if you want to see a certain outfit that I haven't fixed yet! I will be happy to oblige! post link: https://ift.tt/GSVOx8t author: rangerhorsetug submitted: July 18, 2024 at 04:36AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[just-gay-thoughts]

Im very new to this site

How do I navigate it's kinda confusing and my ADHD keeps seeing colors and I can't figure out how to use things

Help pls 🙏

First of all, hi, welcome to the party!

Okay you figured out asks so yay! If you haven't noticed, theres also a little toggle for anonymous asks if you ever wish to send those, if I remember correctly though you can't send pics and vids on anonymous.

Basic getting started advice: use the search to find tags that you're interested in, it can be Fandom or hobby interests or anything really. You can choose to follow that tag (the option should be in the search bar after you've searched it, if that makes sense) and random posts from the tag will show up on your feed from time to time. You can also go through and follow people who post a lot in that tag that you enjoy the content of. Basic rule of advice for following people is to do it as freely as you wish, but don't feel bad about unfollowing for any reason.

And this explanation is going to be scatterbrained as I mention things as I think of them so I do apologize for that lol

Make sure you go into your settings and set your dashboard preferences to not include 'in your orbit' (or do, but most have their dash in chronological order rather than the more algorithmic version), this way you see stuff just from people and tags you follow.

Great ways to find people to follow are by searching like mentioned before, but also if you notice someone you follow reblogging someone's posts a lot and you enjoy those posts, that can be a great way to find more people.

You yourself can post as often as you want but there's a couple things to be familiar with that would show up on your blog.

The first is likes, which can be turned off (if I remember correctly the option might be when you go to edit your profile)

The second is reblogs, this is how posts get spread around. I like to think of it like likes are you telling the op they did a good job, and a reblog is you running to show your friends what you just found. It is greatly encouraged to reblog things like art and gifsets if you liked them because of the lack of algorithm on this site.

The last is your own posts, there should be a round plus button on mobile (it's been a bit since I've been on desktop but I think it's at the top?) That will take you to the text editor. I didn't llan ahead so this is the only one I have pictures for :)

Things to note: very bottom has the ability to add links, gifs, photos, audio, polls, and the Aa let's you edit the way text appears. Just above that you can add tags, many use tags for organization (I tend to use #gay thoughts for many of my own posts, eith #gay asks being added when I'm answering an ask), but there's also a huge culture around talking in the tags. Many add thoughts about the post in the tags, as anything said in a reblog will always stay with that version of a post, but tags are only visible when viewed from the actual reblog theyre on.

The 3 dots in the corner give you some additional options for your post

You can post it now or later, change who can reblog it, who can blaze it(pay money for it to appear on a number of random peopl's dashes), all that jazz!

Sorry if anything was hard to understand, please let me know if you have any other questions!

[flameblessed]

RULES

Hello, my name is topaz. I am 25+ and he/they. I run several other blogs, including ones in this space. I work full-time and am disabled so I may not always be active. If you rush me for replies, I will not want to write with you. As someone with serious chronic conditions, there are times in which I will be unable to reply. If this is something you cannot tolerate in an rp partner, we may not be compatible. In addition, I tend to prefer longer replies bordering on novella and so even if I do not intend for a thread to get long, it may. This blog is multi-verse and multi-ship. Mains get priority but I am not exclusive.

Recently, there was an incident involving a former friend of mine in which he behaved very very strangely and cruelly to me. His name is Jay and/or JJ and he was not happy when i put him into a DNI after he hurt me very badly. He tried to make a callout about me to twist what he did and act like the victim. I never saw the post itself because I cannot stand to look at his blog. He has since deleted his blog but he did make a callout in an attempt to paint me as cruel and manipulative for my reactions to him. I posted a DNI about him in my rules, and when his friends continued to attempt to follow me, I made this post in which i continued to push that I wanted no crossover in our circles. Following that he made the callout in which I was told he edited our messages and only put parts he could use to paint his own narrative. After trying to hurt me further with this action, he deleted his blog. This is my response to him at the time. Mind you, I had him blocked but according to people who were still mutuals with him at the time, he was posting responses to my claims as if he could see my blogs. Which meant either he was block evading or having someone give him updates. Either way, the idea that he is still able to see my blogs made me incredibly uncomfortable. He hurt a lot of people. I am not his only victim. I DO NOT WANT ANYONE THAT INTERACTS WITH HIM NEAR ME. I do not care how minor the connection is. I cannot feel safe here so long as I feel he can see me. His blogs were ifri/tma/de (deleted), tales/wr/itt/en, baldu/rm/ad/e, and s/tori/esu/ng. Please be safe friends. I am not the type of person to do this type of thing, but sometimes people put you in situations. I will not discuss him further in public. I am happy for all of the supportive anons I got. They made me feel less crazy. If you do have any questions or concerns, you can speak with me privately. I do not want my blog to be all talking about him.

PERSONAL BLOGS: do not reblog ic posts, headcanons, or answers to asks. i will tag posts with ‘ok to rb’ if anyone can reblog them. please respect this. 

This blog is mutuals-only. If your rp account is a sideblog connected to a personal, please send me a message telling me so I know about the side blog. it may take me a little while to follow back because I am incredibly anxious because of everything that happened.

Multi-muse blogs, I love you guys. All I ask is to please specify your muses when you try to interact with me with starter calls or memes. You can send as many muses as you want.

I don't follow back or interact with fandoms I am not familiar with usually. Apologies about that! I have only played like 3 FF games. And only XIV and XVI since I've been old enough to actually process media.

Very OC friendly. I have an oc and I love him. I will lovingly stare at your oc and cradle them in my arms.

You can ALWAYS continue an answer as a thread. You can ALWAYS send me the ask. PLEASE. I want to write with you. Do not doubt this please. I also do not care if you reblog from me or the source on any NON memes. So for musings and aesthetics or whatever, you can reblog from me.

If you are anti-lgbt+, homophobic/biphobic/transphobic, racist, sexist, or ableist, kindly fuck off. I am a disabled queer and I am not going to keep my anger quiet for the sake of your comfort. Honestly, not interested in interacting with anyone who is"right-leaning". LMAO. I also do not like people that constantly vague blog about others. Or put others down to prop themselves up.

This blog is highly headcanon-based. I only really am married to the lore within the game and not in side material or lore books. There is some I keep but most I don't care about.

I am not ship-exclusive. It is difficult for me to even be exclusive with certain characters since Clive is more or less in a canon relationship with Jill. I won't push this relationship on anyone outside of Clive having very strong feelings for her. But yeah, I am not ship-exclusive. Especially not with canon ships. I WILL however be exclusive in terms of shipping with certain characters. I cannot really see myself shipping with any other Cids than my main one.

In terms of mains, they always get priority. These are typically people that I have ooc connections with or generally just really trust and have meshed with.

These rules are subject to change!

[violynsolo]

seeing some of my arcanetwt friends confused by tumblr so here are 10 tips, hopefully i can explain them in a succinct way that is specifically relevant for you all!

follow blogs and tags to see posts! eventually tumblr will accurately recommend things you like and show them on your for you page/"try these posts" on the explore page but i usually just scroll my dash.

you can sort your dash by most recent or recommended, but unlike twitter you aren't going to see other people's likes or replies on your dash, just posts and reblogs.

people love getting asks! (as long as they're nice!) asks are basically built in curiouscat. you can turn anon off if you want or turn asks off altogether but they can be a good way to spark a conversation/discussion.

people treat tags kinda like qrts! most people will throw their personal opinions about a post in the tags, because unlike hashtags you can use spaces and some punctuation. i rarely put my thoughts in a reblog unless i feel like it adds to the content of the post in some way/continues the discussion. basically if you just want to share your opinions put them in the tags but if you definitely want ppl to see what you're saying put them in a rb (either way people can look through the notes to read all the tags too)

on that topic, once your post has been reblogged it CANNOT BE DELETED! you can delete the original post off your blog but any rb is essentially a copy. it's not gonna disappear like on twitter. you can edit your posts on tumblr, but rbs that happened before the edit will not change. (this is why you'll sometimes see a deactivated blog's addition in the reblogs of a post)

you can private your likes and following list! honestly i recommend doing this, i think a lot of unnecessary twitter drama comes from those features being public but on tumblr no one knows how many followers you have but you and you don't have to share who you follow either. (keep in mind that privating your likes only hides the likes page from your blog, it doesn't hide your like in the notes of a post)

tumblr's tagging system is actually pretty great (whenever the search function decides to work lmao), you can tag a post by #gif, #art, #video, etc. so you can search your blog for it later. unlike twitter tumblr is shit when it comes to searching specific phrases, like it just refuses to work and i have no idea why, so i recommend this!

while tags technically do show up like hashtags in site wide searches, people very commonly come up with tagging systems just for their blog, like ways to reference posts to find them later, this is not really how people use tags on twt but it's common and useful here.

you can queue posts! if you don't want to spam you can schedule a post to be sent out at a certain time, or just leave your queue to post them in intervals throughout the day. people usually come up with a personal tag for their queue (often a pun where the word "queue" is replacing something) so their followers know they aren't actually active and the post was scheduled.

finally, and oops this ended up being long, tumblr posts have a ton of formatting features that make them a lot more like blog posts, feel free to play around! for the people who are really into blog design you can also actually edit the html of your blog's desktop site and fully code the page how you want (or just pick a premade theme)

happy blogging and don't hesitate to ask me any questions!

[note-boom]

Getting Around Here...

All right, we’ve reached the point where I’ve been told I have 1000 posts on here, so I’m gonna make a navigation/what’s this blog about post so I don’t go insane...

What’s This Blog About?

Basically this started as a realization that I was saving way too many BSD-related links on the app I use to keep track of all my obsessions, reactions to things, etc. So I figured a Tumblr blog would be the solution, and now this is my archive of things I would usually just save as a link elsewhere (plus some thoughts of my own to spice it up a bit.)

Navigation Stuff

Now how do I tag things for future explorations?

Fandom Tags: #bsd, #bungo stray dogs, #bungou stray dogs (will be updated if I switch/tack on other fandoms)

Character Tags: In general, I just use [acronym] [character’s most used name]. Like #bsd atsushi. Sometimes, I use two like #bsd edgar allan poe/#bsd poe or #bsd gogol/#bsd nikolai gogol but only when I’m not sure what their most used name is. There’s also #bsd characters (for unnamed characters or just incorrect quotes) this one (when there are too many characters to tag) and group specific tags (armed detective agency, port mafia, bsd guild, soukoku, shin soukoku, there’s no naming consistency)

Meta Tags: #bsd musings (for literally anything that contemplates bsd) #bsd theories (for theories, specifically) #character analysis (metas about characters)

Specific Media Tags: #bsd official art, #manga things (anything that features the manga panels) #anime things (anything that features anime screenshots and the like) #light novel things (anything referring to the light novels) #stage play things (anything featuring stuff about the stage play) #bsd fanart, #bsd edits, #bsd gifset, #bsd fanfic. Of course, there will also be tags for the light novels specifically, which is usually just bsd [light novel name], and wan.

Additional Tags: #humor, #alternate universe, #crossover, #random fandom spamdom (generally fandom related either because of my tags or the post’s contents itself) #bsd fandom slander (mostly a subset of humor that lovingly slanders the characters) #not fandom spam (has nothing to do with the fandom specifically) #spitting nonsense (my posts) #rambling in the tags sorry (when I get a bit TOO carried away) #note re-reblogs (currently nonexistent but the time will come...i advise blocking this tag lest you wake up to find 50 posts rereblogged because I didn't want to queue them...)

Spoilers tags will be tagged bsd spoilers (for all of them), manga spoilers/bsd manga spoilers, and anime spoilers/bsd anime spoilers.

In (Rambly) Conclusion

Why am I writing this like a three-point thesis...ah never mind.

And that’s how I sort out my obsession with this stupid show. If any other piece of media seizes me by the throat like BSD has, then I’ll probably start posting about it here (but my fixations are usually short lived and thus onto main sideblog they go).

I tend to...ramble in the tags a lot, which I mildly feel bad for (there’s a reason why I generally just privately save things). So if you’re seeing this because I spam reblogged you and you wondered who in the world was crowding your notifs with tags, I’m sorry. I also try not to crawl out of the tags too much, though, just do so if they don’t fit my rambles (oops....)

I try and lessen the blow by slapping most everything on the queue (but I don’t tag what I queue, let there be CHAOS), so maybe that helps a bit?

That said, I DO love tags, so feel free to spam reblog whatever you want from here and comment-tag as much as you want...I LOVE seeing people say stuff (whether I agree or not, this IS just for fun). I don’t usually use the comment/reply section or the like button because I don’t actually do anything in my main blog (I just work off sideblogs, heh), so I’ll likely abuse the reblog button a lot or just hope my vibes of appreciation are psychically felt.

OH RIGHT!! Asks are always open. Feel free to scream at me about literally anything, ask anything, or share cool links and shiny stuff I can reblog/save (the last one especially because I am a magpie of fandom things). I generally have to be asked things to talk about them, so I do warn you that the right ask can really get me going.

And with that, back to spamming I go!

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: HALO: A MasterChief Collection: Apex Predators {4}

Master Chief “Pablo” x Sergeant Reader

Warning: Cursing, Lite Angst, Plenty of Words, Non-Canon

Words: 6.6k

Summary: You are part of the mighty SPARTANS as sergeant and a pretty badass addition to the team at that. Everyone always wonders if they have what it takes to best master chief. Many have tried, none have taken his throne. He remains the baddest, and most brutal SPARTAN. He is said to be humankind’s best defense. You are the next competitor, but you’re not eying his throne. You just want to beat him.

Note: Guess who needs more fics? Master Chief!!! I’ve decided to make a Master Chief collection of standalone one shots. They all can be read separately to understand, but can also be read in sequence. I will put a number on them so anyone who is interested in reading in sequence can, but again not necessary. This might be an acquired taste, but it’s Pablo as Master Chief forever and always around these parts.  Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

Note II: Imagine this Spartan Games course similar to what the Marines go through for their endurance course and a bit of mixture from the Spartan race obstacles. I was going to add pictures for reference to the obstacles, but I changed my mind.

 If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

 ***NOT Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~~~

 The Spartan Games. It was a once yearly event that many came to, soldiers, rookies, military personnel and everyone in between. This was the time they could evaluate how all their billions were being spent and make suggestions on what they wanted improved. Basically, it was a time to marvel in the power of the troops and most of all the SPARTANs. Every year the training course got more and more detailed as well as difficult. This year’s was whispered to be impossible.

 For the weeks before this course was all anyone could talk about. Many of the lower soldiers all joked how they could beat it no problem. They boasted of their stamina, skill and toughness claiming they had what it took. With one look, you knew most of them would make it past maybe six of the obstacles then vomit before quitting. They were tough soldiers, but you knew which ones were all talk and which held true potential. Riz came beside you as quiet as always. It was how all of you move. Stealth was one of the most important skills you learned through training.

 “None of them can take master chief.”

 You nearly scoffed before you remembered yourself—your façade. You were supposed to be as robotic as her.

 “One of these days someone should be able to.”

 Riz looked at you but you didn’t look at her. Kai came up on the other side of you.

 “You’ve never challenged him.”

 She was right. You never had. It wasn’t that you worried you couldn’t take him. You worried that you’d show too much emotion when going through the course. Sighing you nodded.

 “You have and lost,” you replied to Kai who smirked.

 You did a double take. You didn’t remember her ever smirking before. Her eyes met yours but only for a few seconds before she was looking away. She then walked off to the side where Vannick was leaning against a wall looking as uninterested as Riz did.

 “They shouldn’t even try.”

 With that she walked off to join Kai and Vannick. You took a deep breath and looked over the course. To where your eyes could see you took in the terrain and knew there was more well past that mark of sight. From the corner of your eye, you saw him appear. He was dressed in his black leotard that you all wore under your armors. His eyes were glued to the course assessing it. He was focused.

 “Who thinks they have what it takes?”

 Captain Keyes’ voice boomed above everyone else's. All the soldiers stood to attention like perfect weapons waiting for an order. The personnel who’d come to watch and be amazed looked around waiting for a brave soul to volunteer. None spoke.

 “You know we only take the best of the best but we only keep the exceptional. Look to your left, those are our exceptional.”

 All eyes looked to where you, Riz, Kai, Vannick and master chief stood. Every solider dreamed of becoming a Spartan. Every solider thought becoming a Spartan would be the pinacol of their military careers. You marveled at how many of them wanted to be the ones sent into impossible missions, the ones with the least survival expected. You marveled at how many of them wanted to sign more of their life over to Halsey and co.

 “Till now none of you can take master chief. Till now he is the only one who has demonstrates absolute dominance of the impossible courses we set up for these Spartan games. Many of you have tried.”

 “Not Sergeant (chosen nickname),” one of the soldiers piped up.

 The murmur of whispers and chatter amongst themselves went around like a bush fire. Soon, everyone was chattering about that prospect.

 “He’s right.”

 You turned and saw Halsey walking toward everyone with her trusted leader of her fan club of one--Adun beside her. Oh great you thought.

 “Sergeant (chosen nickname) has never gone up against master chief on  any of the courses and I think it’s time we change that.”

 You tried to keep your face void of emotion while you wondered what she was up to.

 “Do you think you have what it takes Sergeant (chosen nickname)?”

 She was calling you out in front of everyone even the higher ups. Even if you still had that damn pellet in your back this would be an occasion you’d still have to rise to. With the pellet, it would have been taken as somewhat of an order. Without it, you knew this was a test. Her suspicions had been piqued because of those scans from your last screening and though she’d dropped it then, she hadn’t forgotten. This was her way of seeing if her multi billion dollar weapon still was functional.

 “Of course, Dr. Halsey.”

 Master chief glanced at you. It was the first glance he’d afforded you since the night at the club with Miranda where he went slightly haywire. From his behavior then and the act of coupling you’d done together weeks prior, you now suspected something was off with him. You’d even gone as far as to wonder if he’d already taken out his pellet as well.

 Dr. Halsey observed you for a few short moments then nodded curtly before she looked to Captain Keyes who now had Miranda on his other side. The way she looked at you spoke of caution. She too knew this was a Halsey production. Giving her a small reassuring nod you looked back to the course. Today she sun was bright and something in you told you it was probably one of the brutal sun days, one of the days that many cadets did training outdoors because the higher ups wanted them training in brutal conditions so they were prepared.

 You remembered the days of training on Rahnelo, the ice planet and nearly getting frostbite. Many thought the Spartan practices were too extreme, but no one ever spoke of decommissioning the program. The same as no spoke about decommissioning the genetic and body augmentations that all Spartans had gone through. They only improved upon them. Everyone liked to talk about the humaneness of soldiering but no one ever actually followed through. All that mattered was winning the war—all of them—no matter the cost.

 “Go prepare.”

 You walked over to the table that housed a multitude of gear—gloves, goggles, mouth guards, arm, knee or even leg shields and even finger grips. Many would have taken them all but you knew the more weight you added you’d regret it as it would ultimately just slow you down. John was fast, you’d seen him in action. He could run at almost forty miles per hour for longer than twenty minutes. He was in impressive shape. You needed every advantage.

 “Sure you want to do this?”

 You didn’t need to look to know it was him.

 “Like I have a choice. Look around we’re the animals on display in this zoo.”

 “You’re clever. You know how to get out of it. Since you’re complying it means you want to do this,” he assessed.

 Part of you did. You liked to win, liked to show that you were a force all on your own and that though he was thee master chief, you weren’t second fiddle or even third or fourth. You also wanted to stick it to him. Before removing the pellet, you saw his demeanor and prowess as authority but since removing it you saw a different side. It did speak of authority but he was also overconfident. You didn’t blame him. He knew he was a weapon and was confident in his abilities and power and his know how to complete any mission but he’d never been knocked on his ass by anyone let alone a woman and you desperately wanted to knock him on his ass.

 “Are you afraid master chief?”

 His cheek flicked on one side and it kind of looked like the instinct to smile had came out. However, as soon as it appeared it, it was gone.

 “I see nothing to fear.”

 A proper Spartan answer would have been I don’t feel fear because it was true. Until recently you’d never felt fear and you didn’t even know you were feeling it until Miranda explained human emotion to you and the classifications of them. He should have said he didn’t feel fear. So lost in your observation, you were tempted to probe him further, but Dr. Halsey’s voice interrupted you. The look he gave you said everything you’d always seen—overconfidence. You vowed to yourself to make him eat his words.

 You were the first to walk away and prep yourself to start. You knew the layout and the order of the courses thanks to you going over it once you’d arrived on base. It was lengthy, probably the longest you’d done and that knowledge did make you wonder what to expect.

 “You feel fear.”

 He said it as a statement but it wasn’t a brutal statement, there was a hint of concern in his voice.

 Straightening your back you spoke, “I don’t feel fear. I don’t feel anything.”

 You didn’t look at him but you could feel his eyes on you. Part of you wondered what he was thinking, if he was thinking back to your night together. You were full of shit. You’d felt plenty of things that night. Straightening your back, you kept the goal in mind.

 “I’ve estimated based of your training and abilities; the entire course should take twenty minutes tops. Let’s see if the two of you live up to expectations.”

 You felt like her words were geared to you. Taking a deep breath you waited for the signal, eyes on the lap track. By the looks of it, it was two miles. You centered yourself, and zeroed in your focus. Your eyes tunneled blocking everything else out thanks to one of the many enhancements that had been forced upon you as a Spartan. You counted down in your head and took your stance. The loud alarm sounded and you took off running onto the track. Forcing yourself to remain in tunnel you focused on your speed and keeping pace. Master chief fell in beside you not going faster or slower. He was taunting you. Annoyance filled you and you sped up pulling ahead of him a few inches. Every forty seconds or so you increased your speed getting closer and closer to your recorded top speed—twenty-eight mph.

 After about four minutes you’d already completed one mile and was well into your second, you couldn’t resist the urge to look beside you but there was no one there. Glancing back, master chief was a few paces behind you. He looked to be running leisurely. He even had the gall to be looking around at the scenery. He was allowing you to keep the lead.

 “Don’t let me win!”

 “Who says I am? Maybe you’re just faster 144.”

 He was toying with you.

 An emotion you weren’t familiar with crept up in you. “I guess. Maybe I should have stayed at the club that night to find someone who truly is meant to be my equal.”

 Satisfaction filled you and you couldn’t help but smile. Just then Miranda’s voice sounded in your ear.

 “I can see that smile from here. Remember she is watching. Your smile disappeared. You wanted to ask her how she’d managed this but you couldn’t.

 “It wasn’t hard to find a backdoor to you, I am after all half of her for better or worse.”

 Just then, master chief zoomed past you leaving you to watch him inch closer to the finish line.

 “Son of a--.”

 You picked up your speed maxing out and came up beside him. He didn’t look at you or speak, instead he had a stoic look plastered on his face and that was what irked you the most now. You both ran through the finish line at the same time and on to the next part—wall runs. Keeping your speed and momentum, you propelled onto the wall and proceeded to run up its steep incline keeping step with the monster beside you. When you flipped over it, you soared through the air then dropped onto your legs using one to brace the shock from the drop.

 About a hundred feet away was an impossibly low barb wire obstacle that you were meant to drop down to go under. Again, you and master chief did the action in unison. You slide through using your strength in your core and shoulders. He kept a steady pace which was the best option for him due to his size but because of the same size issue you had to speed up. He had well over a foot on you and it showed. He was the first to climb out, but it was only by a half of a second. Still, it mattered.

 The cheering and applause from those who were lined up along the path egged you on. You didn’t know if they were cheering for you or him. it didn’t matter at this point. You ran then leapt into the air grabbing hold of the hanging rope that was several feet off of the ground above a pit of thick black tar. Master chief beside you climbed the rope like a champion clearing each knotted rung easily as if the task was as easy as climbing steps. He barely made a sound except for the occasional grunt that threatened to break you out of concentration mode.

 The ten-foot climb up the rope finally ended, and you hoisted yourself onto a long beam barely wider than four inches. The test of balance and agility. With this, you held an advantage because of your size and you made lite work of it giving yourself a ten second lead. Hoping to capitalize on it, you ran the rest of the way and jumped onto the rope for the Tyrolean Traverse Rope Slide that would bring you across the remainder of the tar pit and onto even terrain. This was a test of strength and hand and body coordination. It was another thing your size would aid you in.

 As you were clearing the halfway point you saw master chief pass you again. The man was insufferable you thought to yourself with little annoyance. How could you be annoyed, he was after all the best. Your desire to beat him had you deciding on a stupid maneuver, one you would probably regret, you hugged the rope in the crook of your arm and wrapped your ankles firmly around it then allowed the decline of the rope to side you down the remainder pushing ahead of him once again. You ignored the burn you felt through the black leotard and kept your eyes on the prize.

 Once you cleared the tar then flipped onto your feet, you ran across the rocky ground to the next course then easily leaped over the obstacle that was half your size. You could see there were eight more just like it with different exit points. The next you had to go through. Just as easily you jumped through it coming through in a roll. You could feel him beside you keeping up and mirroring your movements. From a bystanders perspective, it would look as if you were equally matched. On the last pass, an under maneuver, you hurried to the table that held three different weapons.

 Grabbing the blindfold off the rope, you pulled it over your head and began disassembling each weapon. The first took you just under eighteen seconds, the second ten and the last eight. You heard master chief slam the last part to the table seconds before you. The two of you ran neck and neck to the inclined wall. You were feeling the burn of tired limbs. Grabbing the rope on the first try you pulled yourself doing your best to keep in step with him. Glancing over to him, you caught his eyes already on you. He’d broken a sweat now, and his features betrayed the exertion he was going through.

 “Always a fighter,” he grunted out.

 “Don’t ever forget, master chief!”

 Making it over the top, you slid down the opposite side then ran across to the multi rings that were arranged in a maze. You quickly computed the path through it and proceeded. Once you made it to the fourth ring, master chief was there reaching for the same one, you glared at him but your were met with amusement behind his beautiful hazel eyes. You refused to concede. It was him who let it go and went a different direction. Seconds later, he was there again attempting to take your ring. Frustrated you let it go and braced your hands on his shoulder hoisting yourself onto him using him as a steppingstone. You then climbed on top of the contraption that held the rings and ran across it.

 “Gaah!”

 You’d caught him off guard and your confidence inflated. Flipping off the top, you easily landed on your feet and ran to the A-frame structure with a whole six second lead. When you began climbing the structure you felt master chief grab your ankle and pull you back. It was a long-standing tradition of these games that sabotage was not frowned upon—it was welcomed. Holding onto one of the rungs in the frame, you held on tightly refusing to let him bring you down. He used the pull on your ankle as leverage to leap onto the structure just above you. Glaring at him, you continued to climb up. When you were beside him you opened your mouth to chastise him, but the shaking distracted you.

 Looking up you saw a large skull crushing boulder falling and coming right to you. Master chief pulled you to him helping you escape injury. Your body was flush against his, he was the one holding you and himself up and against the frame. Your heart skipped a beat, but more shaking brought both your attention up where another stone was quickly coming for both of you. Pressing your foot onto his perched thigh, you propelled yourself into the air and on his left side. Before you could rest another rock came tumbling down, your rolled along the frame avoiding it and the other that fell beside you.

 You and master chief had your backs pressed against the wood waiting for the next move. The structure shook more forcefully than ever and you saw five boulders rolling down all along the frame. There was no dodging them. You peeped over to him and the strategizing look he gave you said he was thinking the same thing as you. Nodding in unison, you both leapt into action jumping into the air and using your strength to either kick the rocks away or crush them. Once you reduced one to rubble, you moved to the next and the next. With the last one, master chief held his hands out lacing the fingers giving you a stepping perch, you took it and leapt into the air. At the last moment, you grabbed the collar of his leotard and took him with you, propelling yourself over the A-frame and onto the ground past it.

 You exchanged complex looks. Both of you still clearly in competitive mode but also recognizing and acknowledging that though you were competitive one thing never changed. The ease of how you worked together. You always worked well together and no obstacle ever proved to be more than you could handle when you were on the same team. Both of you came to your senses at the same time and continued on.

 For the next several minutes, you maneuvered through the outlined obstacles that got more and more complex. The atlas stones must have weighed over forty pounds and carrying them for longer than a few minutes at this stage in the games was almost like torture. Still neither of you gave up. When you made it through the minefield swing neither of you dared to sabotage the other. You wanted him knocked down a peg or two but not dead or injured. He may be acting like an ass, but you couldn’t bear the thought of him in danger. His words echoed in your head from your night together.

 “Do you expect me to put you in the most dangerous of situations knowing the probability of you not making it out? Do you think I’m going to have you anywhere near a situation that can backfire?”

 “That’s the job, sir!”

 “The job. Yeah, it’s the job, but fuck, I can’t do it with you!”

 Anxiousness took over in your stomach and in the process of assembling one of your disassembled weapons you dropped a piece.

 “Fuck!”

 You felt his hesitation beside you, but it wasn’t a long one. He ran off gaining an eight second advantage. When you made it to the VR target practice, he was already immersed in the program. Slipping on the helmet you went through the targets, shooting the various enemines of the UNFC while avoiding civilians that posed no threat. The ones that posed a threat you opted to sedate and turn over for interrogation. It took about six minutes to go through the full simulation. You knew to get a perfect score you had to make the right calls as well as complete headshots.

 Advancing to the VR minefield you realized this one was a refreshed version, one you weren’t familiar with. You knew how to move through one but that didn’t mean you could move carelessly. All minefields held a puzzle within the puzzle. The goal was to avoid the mines but the puzzle was figuring out the pattern of it all. once you did that, the rest was simple.

 Figuring out that pattern took you a few minutes longer than normal, you knew many minds had collaborated on this one. As soon as you found the glitch and the clue, you ran with it and side stepped all of them. Only when you’d cleared the field did you remove your helmet. Looking up, you saw your score highlighted on the jumbotron. It was another tie with master chief. Only taking a few seconds to get your mind back in the game, you avoided his eyes.

 After another barbed wire crawl, and a turn on the battle chains, you made it to the civilian bags. Each of them weighed at least fifty pounds and all eight of them had to be carried to safety. Master chief managed to carry two at a time for the majority of his trips and you tried to follow his lead no matter how much your body was screaming at you and begging for rest. After dropping the last one, you staggered just as master chief did beside you. Not wanting him to take the lead again, you began running to the pool of water that was near the starting point you’d ran from almost eighteen minutes prior.

 After stripping off your black leotard you remained in your undergarments. Jumping into it, you sunk to the bottom and stood there holding your breath. The goal was four minutes. If this had been done before all the other exercises it would have been a piece of cake but now at the end it was like tempting death because not only was your entire body tired, your lungs were spent. This was meant to test the limits of your lung augmentations. It was a well know fact that the UNFC wanted to expand its reach to more planets and they didn’t want to skip one because of the amount of the discrepancy between the land and water ratio.

 Looking beside you, master chief stood there a perfect statue in no distress in his undergarment as well. He didn’t look as if he’d just done a marathon of muscle depleting exercises. He looked like he could go for more. His stamina was astonishing. Your eyes roamed his body taking in the details that had first made your mouth water and fingertips itch to touch. He was the perfect frame, muscular and strong with wide shoulders and a stance that commanded respect and power. Even with his body being marred by a plethora of battle and augmentation scars he was still perfect to you. It was the first time you’d felt another feeling you’d never felt before but couldn’t identify. It was strong and made your chest tighten and expand.

 When he looked at you, he held your eyes. They were soft. He didn’t look like master chief under here. He looked like John—the man, not the weapon. You’d seen this man before. You continued trying to regulate your racing heart but the memories swirling through you would not cooperate. With each memory of his hand on some part of your body or his lips against your skin you could barely function. However when you remembered his words a few weeks ago, it felt like an ice bath.

 “None of it means anything, it never has. None of it will ever happen again.”

 Cutting your eyes at him you looked away and closed them. You could do this. Before you knew it, four agonizing minutes were up, and you still had a ten second lead on him. Climbing out of the pool, you panted as water dripped off of your exposed body. Your muscles ached, lungs burned and you were sure you were minutes from crashing. Ahead you saw the final part. A sea of tendrils hung down before the opening of the hanger. It looked like handing crystalized beads but you knew better, they were single strand tendrils of pure and raw electricity. There were tens of them and they all totaled just about ten thousand volts. You were supposed to run through it and take the charge.

 You’d been struck by electricity before—several times actually and each time almost put you on your ass. You were not looking forward to it. on shaky legs you approached the most pain you’d ever put yourself through willingly. Master chief’s animalistic groan brought your attention back to him. He was coming up behind you. Swallowing the fear, you ran to the tendrils and took a deep breath. Without any more thought you ran through them. Stifling your shouts, you held them in and picked up speed the best you could. Everywhere the tendrils touched you ached and thanks to the water on your skin the ache was ten times worse. This exercise was meant to cripple any man. It was meant to separate men from beasts. To your left John was going through the same pain as you but the only evidence of it was a grimace here or there and the tight clench of his fists. Seeing the clearing you made a mad dash to get out.

 Both you and master chief made it through at the same time and both of you dropped to your knees once you had needing some time to catch your breath.

 “Spartans—get in--,” master chief gritted out with much effort.

 Panting your body began to shake, “G—g—get the—job—d—done.”

 He groaned loudly again. “N—no--.” He made it to one foot.

 You began to stand as well. It took much longer than you liked but you managed it. your eyes landed on each other.

 “No matter what,” you both said together.

 “Equals,” John said.

 Tere was softness to his expression, softness that made your heart skip a beat.

 “Equals,” you repeated.

 As if on cue, both of you took off for the finish line at the same time. You both gave it everything you had left and after a minute or two, you both crossed the line at the same time, one minute ahead of Halsey’s estimated time for completion of the course.

 The cheers were deafening but it was all muffled. You could barely focus on anything besides your delirium.

 Everything else that transpired, went by in a blur of words and movement. Before being dismissed to clean up, you glanced at the screens to see your time. It was .20 seconds ahead of his. It was barely a victory but it was still a win you’d never let him live down.

 Sometime later after the commotion of the games settled and the thrill of the competition between many soldiers cooled down and the egos of those in power enlarged bigger than their being could hold night settled the crowds at the base dispersed. Many of the soldiers, were now shooting the breeze, relishing a rare night of down time where they could be themselves. There was no supervision because all of the higher ups were now rubbing elbows to discuss the games and their perceived accomplishments while Halsey most likely tried to milk billions more from them.

 The water beaming down and against your body from the multiple shower heads felt sublime. The heat from the water coupled with the low light therapy was working miracles against the aches that still hung around. Though you and all the Spartans were able to heal faster than the average human it didn’t mean you were completely healed. Placing your hands on your head you flinched feeling the tightness of overworked muscles and the burn from the rope. You knew the move was a mistake but seeing that .20 second difference made it worth it.

 You turned off the water then stepped out of your shower. Rather than pulling on a robe, you walked to the dryer mist and slowly rotated giving the device the chance to shoot out sterilized and heated mist that would suck up the water off of you. When you walked out of the bathroom, the only evidence of your shower was your wet hair. You walked to the full-length mirror and took in your body. All across your skin there were pea sized blotches from the electric tendrils. As you took in the damage you couldn’t help but slip back into detached mode. You’d gone so long with that pellet you knew how you should be acting. Often times, you found yourself doing things or saying things off of muscle memory and learned behavior.

 Ding, Ding, Ding. Ding, Ding, Ding.

 You felt like it was Miranda coming to check on your healing. You quickly grabbed the teal colored robe that was strewn across the foot of your bed and wrapped it around yourself. It reached to your ankles but thanks to the array of slits in the fabric much of your skin was still on display. At the door you pressed the button to open the thick glass. When it slide to the side, it wasn’t Miranda’s short frame you were met with. It was John’s massive one. He stood in your doorway, towering over you, with one hand behind his neck and the other at his side. When he realized you’d opened the door, he stood more rigidly before he went back to an at ease stance. Odd you thought.

 Something told you to wait and let him speak first, so you did. However, he didn’t look like he intended to speak. His eyes raked across your body in the slowest way. He looked like he was taking in every single detail. By the time his head dipped to your legs, your breathing was betraying the slew of emotions that were bubbling within you. Soon he’d be able to tell that he affected you and you in fact did feel. His eyes remained glued to your legs. Part of you regretted your clothing option but the other part felt bold—defiant. You wanted to give him more to look at.

 Pushing one of your legs out further, you perched on your tip-toes giving him an elongated view of your entire leg, up your thigh to where your pelvis met your thigh bone. Falling into the trap, his eyes went to that thigh bone and you watched him lick his lips. You were seconds away from throwing yourself into his arms, seconds from dropping the robe and pressing your flesh against him.

 “Can I help you with something master chief?”

 His eyes met yours but just his eyes. They were dark and hooded with a storm brewing within them. He took a step forward placing himself just under your door frame right in the way of the path the sliding door would have to travel to close.

 “What if I am here to help you with something?”

 “What could I possibly need help with, sir?”

 He took another step, now leaving a sliver of space between you. He reached for you, then took your arm holding it just below your elbow. He then slid the material up to reveal the violent looking rash and bruise that hadn’t gone away yet.

 “I’m fine.”

 To prove you wrong he touched the spot. With no gentleness to his touch you flinched, pulling your arm back.

 “I see that.”

 John walked past you into your quarters leaving you standing there. This was the first time he’d been inside. There was never a need.

 “You shouldn’t be here.”

 “I’m the master chief, I can be anywhere I want,” he replied.

 You scoffed. He really thought he owned the galaxy. You turned and saw him take a seat in front of the oversized couch.

 “Are you afraid of me being here, 144?”

 This was the fourth time he’d implied you felt fear. You had to know.

 “Are you?”

 He took a deep breath and looked away. “I’m not afraid of being here,” he said. “That’s not it.”

 The last part was under his breath and you almost missed it but thank you enhancements you picked it up. Pressing the button you closed your door and walked over to where he sat then sat in front of him on the couch. You didn’t bother to arrange the slits in the robe to cover your legs. It was pointless.

 “It was a stupid move.”

 “What?”

 He nudged his head to your arm. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

 “Whatever. I still won.”

 “You didn’t win. A twentieth of a second isn’t a win,” he objected as he took your arm and rolled your sleeve up. In his right hand he revealed a small jar that you hadn’t noticed before.

 “A twentieth, a fifth, or even a fourth are all wins. Don’t’ be a sore loser.”

 Your taunting had no outward effect.

 “I won, but it doesn’t mean I’m better.”

 “Are you saying I’m better?”

 He stuck a chunky finger at the opening of the jaw and a gooey, opaque substance poured out onto it. You watched as he wiped the goo onto your injury with much more gentleness than you’d expected. It was cold but instantly any discomfort you’d been feeling went away.

 “What is this?”

 “Fugaka salve. Halsey is experimenting with the carcasses we bring back and their blood can be altered to make the stuff. It has impressive healing abilities,” he explained.

 “And she gave you some—her precious 117.”

 John paused then looked at you. “What is your problem with Halsey?”

 “I see through the illusion she makes you all see.”

 “I am under no illusions about Dr. Halsey. I see her for what she is,” he quickly rebuffed.

 You studied him.

 “And what do you see?”

 His eyes met yours. “An opportunist who is out for herself under the guise of saving the human race who will do anything moral or immoral to build in her image.”

 You were stunned. All of that sounded—authentic. Like it was a pellet free thought. A free thought. That couldn’t have been a glitch in Halsey’s programing. He couldn’t have been experiencing a malfunction. Biting your bottom lip, you chewed it. He held your gaze, but he didn’t speak again. The pain you’d felt in your arms was gone and all that remained was the feeling of his large, calloused hands on your skin. He was still rubbing the goo onto you. The slow circles he was swirling on your flesh became distracting. You wanted to know what was off.

 “Ask me.”

 Searching his eyes, you tried to find the right words.

 “If you aren’t afraid of being here…then what are you afraid of?”

 He didn’t answer right away, he took his time. When he closed his eyes and dropped his head you felt like he wasn’t going to answer. You softly sighed and began pulling your arms back. John gripped them, holding you right where you were. Steadily his grip tightened holding you more forcefully but not to hurt you.

 When he spoke, it was a whisper that you only caught the ending of. Ooh? What was that?

 “What?”

 John groaned, then released you dropping his balled fists onto his massive thighs.

 “If you see through Halsey why don’t you tread on the side of caution? Do you know what she does to those who don’t perform optimally? Those who are below her designs?”

 You didn’t answer. There was no need to. You knew how deadly she was. He looked up then and right into your eyes.

 “Why do you feel the need to put yourself in more danger?”

 The questions hung between the two of you as he searched your eyes with his pleading ones for an answer.

 “Do you wish to live—truly or merely exist?”

 Something in his eyes flickered just before he began to turn his head. Not wanting to lose the intimacy of the moment, you touched his cheek keeping his head there making him look at you. His eyes softened.

 “I—want to truly live. I want to live fully, freely, passionately, completely, openly. I don’t want to just exist. I need to live in every way possible, to experience everything imaginable from the joys, to the sorrows to—love. I don’t know what any of them truly are but I want to live it all.”

 You saw that your words registered and you saw that he understood them. He wasn’t confused of your meaning, or how you could have even said them. He looked like he understood and may have even wanted the same.

 “Don’t you want that—John?”

 You felt his jaw clench underneath your palm, and you smoothed his stubbled jaw. He turned his head slightly, so his bottom lip was against the heel of your palm but he didn’t move any further, instead he inhaled deeply, taking in your scent.

 “Want.”

 The way he said it, made your stomach flutter and your heart race.

 “Want,” you repeated.

 He searched your eyes again, this time erratically. You could feel you were losing him.

 “I want John—I really want,” you whispered sliding to the edge of the couch getting closer to his face.

 You continued to feel his jaw and cheek then brought your other hand to take one of his free ones. You slowly traced your fingers along the back of it taking in every detail. They were much larger than yours, and the veins protruded more prominently but his skin was surprisingly softer than expected. When you get got to his fingers you trailed your four down four of his until your fingertips touched. It was there you hesitated. You wondered if you continued would he pull away from you and tell you he felt nothing. You actually feared he would.

 “I—w—w—want,” John stuttered.

 “What do you want?”

 Long seconds passed and the silence  quickly became maddening. Something was holding him back. You saw his eyes change before he made a move. They were no longer clear and bright, they looked clouded. Without a word, he stood and walked back to the door he’d come through. He pressed the button and left.

 Just like that, he was gone.

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

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

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

TagList:

@omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @caramara3 @violinchick @laurenstacy610 @pinheadbanger @morganas-pendragons @shar74nett @lialacleaf @laurenstacy610

[intramoon]

How are you doing Aj? Do you have any tips for new writers, or people who are interested in making a simblr or story like myself? ♡

I can try my best to give you advice from back when my story was in its prime! This is more story advice, if you are looking for more Simblr advice let me know but I could do a whole podcast that ;-;

Don't wait, just post unapologetically. I think one of the biggest cruces to people not telling their sims stories is the illusion it needs to be finished or perfected for you to be able to post it. That mindset will keep you from posting, you'll always find a reason why your story is not "finished" or "perfect" but your story is art, and art is mostly "unfinished". My advice to you is to understand your characters, their environment, and their antagonist(s), know the beginning of your story and just start posting. Some storytelling requires experience, an experience you'll only get from doing. Once you start posting you'll learn so much about yourself and your story, and that knowledge will help your story tell better as you progress.

Sometimes it'll feel like no one is reading your story or that no one cares about your story but keep going! Story content is just one of those things, it can be hard to find readers who are very interactive because of the nature of the stories. You have to keep up with them, have a foundational knowledge of the story, etc. My advice to you is to do these two things, find enjoyment in creating the content that is independent of you posting it. Have fun seeing your characters posed, editing them, decorating lots/creating their world, if you can do that it will make storytelling not only more enjoyable but easier because it's giving you something just from the process and that’s something Tumblr cannot. Secondly, this is more as you get into posting, know that just because you do not see people interacting with your story that does not mean no one is reading it or cares. There are so many people who read but never like, reblog, comment or ask but they are there so do not dismiss them!

You don't have to adhere to any particular kind of planning style, just use what works for you! Notion and Milanote are popular options, but they've never worked for me. I like to write things down, sometimes doddle scenes. With where I am now I know my whole story off the top of my head so I don't write out my plans all that often. I would lead with whatever kind of learner you are but if you don't like to write things down/type things out, do not feel you have to plan a certain amount/way to start storytelling.

Research is not all you need to tell a compelling story. I used to think being knowledgable = qualified, but it does not. In addition to knowing what you're writing about well, you need to know how to use that knowledge in tangent with character development, plot devices, literary devices, and just general writing/storytelling knowledge. It's a long game. If you are tackling trauma, it is not about the immediate event and the immediate aftermath, it's the long-term effects it's how those effects affect others and how those people respond. It's about how did we get here. It's the journey. It is usually not linear. It can definitely be done, just be thoughtful and sensational. 

More practical tips!

Look into cinematography to help you with taking screenshots and editing your photos. Use the media you like (or want to emulate) as a reference. Even graphic novels can be helpful! If you are a visual person, Pinterest is a great place to find show/movie screencaps to use as a reference. I recommend branching out and away from the media in your native country and seeing how film varies in different regions.

Similarly really explore editing, I know I edit pretty heavy compared to most and I am not saying you should do the same but know how to change the color of a photo to create other moods, a little photo manipulation if you want to add something to a scene, just a handful of things you may want to use for specific scenes. You can really elevate your posts if you can set the mood right.

[romansleftshoulderpad]

The Happiest Place (in Our Apartment)

Ships: Platonic logince

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of quarantine, some suggestive humor, food, joking death threats, and Roman getting jumpscared.

If you like this fic, please reblog ! and maybe, buy me a ko-fi?

---

Logan stabilized the camera and double-checked that everything was in order before pressing record. It was quarantine which really didn’t help when you make your living from vlogs. He took a deep breath. “Hello, faithful viewers, I hope you’re all doing well. I’ve noticed a trend on Twitter where pass holders have recreated- in a sense- their favorite rides from the parks.” He sneakily grabbed a pen from his desk, just to have something to fiddle with. Intros were always the worst part of recording, in his humble opinion, there was nothing to do other than state facts that viewers would already know from the title! “Now as I happen to live with an actual cast member, Disney never fully leaves my house.” He made a mental note to show off Roman’s many displays while editing. “So, I’ve decided to take this challenge to the next step and have my roommate rate these rides.”

Roman waited an appropriate amount of time before coughing into his arm, “Nerd.”

Logan turned off the camera and threw him a mock glare. “This was half your idea.”

“I sent one video to you and Virgil, I hardly think that counts as an idea.”

“Yeah, well, you agreed to help, which makes this your fault,” Logan teased. “Now, obviously I can’t use your assistance in making these homages, but I will need every fake bird you own.”

—-

Logan shouldn’t have been surprised at how many cheap leis they owned. They kept them all in a box and Roman refused to get rid of any (in addition to the ones they got from their other friends). Nonetheless, he at least found use for them.

He could hear Roman from outside the door, “Logan told me to record some stuff. I’ve never been much of a vlogger, but it’s always fun to help. Plus, I want to see if I can get any hints to what he’s doing through the door.”

“Not a chance!” Logan yelled, accidentally knocking over his step stool in the process.

“Carousel of Progress!"

“No!”

He finally got all the leis on the birds and connected the speaker. He turned off the lights and prepared the press play on his phone. The camera was recording, he opened the door a tiny crack and whispered, “Are you ready, big boy?”

Roman rolled his eyes. He stepped inside and froze as the lights came on. “Oh no.”

“Welcome to Disney World,” Logan teased, as he pressed play on his phone and “In the Tiki Room” blasted from multiple speakers.

“You are insufferable!” he yelled. “Zero out of ten stars!”

—-

“You officially owe me one,” Roman said, digging into a homemade dole whip.

“You live in my house, I think we’re about even.”

Roman ate another bite of dole whip. “Right.”

“But I might be inclined to let you play pretend work,” he added.

Roman smiled. “I’m turning you into a Disney princess.”

“I assume nothing less. Do I at least get a choice of which princess?”

He smirked through another scoop of ice cream. “Depends on how the rest of your vlog goes.”

—-

“Logan, do I want to know what this next attraction is?”

“Nope, it’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Can you at least tell me why I’m blindfolded?”

“Also no,” Logan said, glancing back at the camera. He held Roman tightly in his arms. “But do you remember when Jungle Cruise sank earlier this year?”

“Logan...”

“Yeah, Roman?” Logan asked.

“What the fuck are you- DON’T YOU DARE-“ There was a large splash as Roman was dropped into the tub. He ripped off his blindfold and glared.

Logan put a Santa hat on his head. “Now it’s Jingle Cruise.”

“I hate you, you’re the worst roommate in the world, and I never want to see your face ever again,” Roman said. He couldn’t continue to hold back his laughter as he faced the camera. “Six out of ten stars.”

“Is that so?”

“Plus a bonus for holiday overlay. Seven out of ten.”

“Thank you, Roman.”

—-

“Now, this last attraction has cost me, to say the least,” Logan said, holding the camera in one hand and gesturing to the door behind him with the other. “The others were fairly simple- and if you enjoyed them please do consider leaving a like and a comment, as well as clicking ‘subscribe’ if you’re so inclined- I hope to do another one of these videos with, perhaps, a different park. I hear Universal shall be reopening soon, perhaps I will take some inspiration from them.” He glanced up at the clock. “I sent Roman out while I set this up, but he should be back any minute now. Depending on the wait, I may have to edit this later, though I’d hate to shut off the camera.”

He later found himself editing nearly five minutes of rambling to himself out of the video before Roman arrived, tired and sweaty.

“It’s really hot out there,” was all Roman could justify before taking a massive gulp of water.

“Well, we are recreating outdoor ride queues in central Florida,” Logan teased. “It wouldn’t be accurate if you weren’t dying a little.”

“I hate you.”

“This ride has a gift shop at the end of it! And by that I do mean a box of all your things I had to borrow for the Tiki Room.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Oh, a wonderful start by Roman at guessing what this last attraction is,” Logan said to the camera.

“I can’t believe it,” Roman deadpanned. “You’re the little dead girl from Tower of Terror.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Oh, be smart, Roman. I’ve been consistent with my park for this long, would I give up now?”

“What?”

He pushed open the door, revealing the room to be lit only by flickering (fake) candles. Virgil’s voice could be heard through a speaker. “When hinges creak in doorless chambers...”

Roman let out a tiny gasp as projections started around him of familiar paintings (though he knew he was only seeing parts of them). He smiled as Virgil’s recording continued, “When candlelights flicker where the air is deathly still- that is the time when ghosts are present, practicing their terror with ghoulish delight.”

“How much did you have to pay him for this?” Roman asked.

“Not much, just five bucks,” Logan said. He mumbled under his breath, “multiplied by ten.”

The projections began to move, revealing more of the paintings at a speed that felt far too slow to be noticeable. “Welcome, foolish mortals, to the Haunted Mansion. I am your host, your ghost host....”

“You know, these shouldn’t be moving yet,” Roman teased.

Logan groaned. “I know, it’s killing me.”

“Here you see paintings of some of our guests as they appeared in their corruptible, mortal state. Kindly step all the way in, please, and make room for everyone.” Virgil’s voice lowered, “There’s no turning back now.”

Roman froze. “Is it just me or did he sound... very in character on that line?”

“You are aware that Virgil will likely see this video, yes?”

“If Disney doesn’t sue your ass over using their monologue in this video, let me know.”

“I’d honestly be surprised if they shut me down but continued to let ride through- oh you’re... you’re joking. That was a joke. I see.”

Roman gave Logan a gentle nudge and they both shared a smile.

“And consider this dismaying observation: this chamber has no windows and no doors, which offers you this chilling challenge: to find a way out!” He let out a laugh and Logan tried not to draw attention to Roman’s slight blush. “Of course,” his voice dipped low again, “there’s always my way.” Logan quickly pulled at a string and a plastic skeleton fell- hanging from a noose- to the air in front of them Roman fell back with a scream.

“That is not part of it!”

“You and I seem to have different ideas of the ride then,” Logan teased.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to frighten you pre-maturely . The real chills come later. Now, as they say, ‘look alive,’ and Logan will continue your little tour.” There was a clicking noise as the audio ended.

Roman gave him a quizzical glance but Logan only smirked and led him into the next room. Logan’s bookshelf- which was usually organized perfectly- was now messy with fake cobwebs and books falling diagonally and laying on their sides. “Our library is well stocked with priceless first editions- only ghost stories of course,” Logan said, straining his voice in an attempt to lower it like Virgil had done.

“Your Paul Frees impression is awful.”

Logan responded with a gesture off camera. “And marble busts-” he gestured to various Funko POP!s as he spoke “-of the greatest ghost writers the literary world has ever known. They have all retired here, to the Haunted Mansion.” He pointed a laser at a picture taped to the wall of the mansion in question. He then picked up a purple book- one Roman had seen in the shelves of gift stores around the properties- and continued, “We actually have nine hundred and ninety nine happy haunts here. But there’s room for a thousand. Any volunteers?” He laughed loudly, tossing his head back as he did so. Roman pushed back an uncomfortable feeling.

“Maybe your impression isn’t terrible.”

Logan winked. “If you should decide to join us, final arrangements may be made at the end of the tour.”

Roman blinked back to reality and continued looking around the room. Desks were lined with paper coffins and bats. Logan continued the monologue, but Roman found it easy to tune out something he had heard so often before. Logan’s ipad sat on his desk, showing a video of the famous clock just before the seance.

Logan opened a closet door to reveal a black table with playing cards (apparently tarot cards were unavailable) and one of those kids’ hairstyling dolls with a blue wig. Logan turned on another speaker and a blue light. Leota’s speech came playing and Roman could see Logan rubbing at his throat. He made a note to make sure he drank water after the video. Maybe even tea with honey. He started to wonder why Logan had committed so much. Sure, YouTube was his job, but he wasn’t so desperate for views as to trash his own apartment. However, Roman was not granted much more time to wonder due to the looping speech being very short and extremely annoying to hear more than twice in a row.

They walked silently across the living room towards the bathroom. “Forgetting something, Logan?” Roman teased.

“This is my own personal alternative universe headcanon where the ghost host doesn’t fuck off after the seance.”

“Do you know what half those words mean?” he asked. “Specifically in the order and context that you’ve said them in?”

“Of course, I learned them from the tumblr and the interwebs.”

“You’re worse than Patton.”

“Agree to disagree, my fanatic friend.”

“You stopped,” Roman said.

“Yes, I have. Go on, open the door, Roman. You’re a big boy.”

“Logan.”

“The ghost host isn't even supposed to be here.”

“Fine, but I still don’t trust-” Roman let out a loud scream. Logan focused the camera in on the sight- a cardboard cutout of a nun from a horror movie with a printed out picture of a hatchet taped to her. She stood in the shower next to the opened and “bloodied” (it was a mix of dyed water and cornstarch) curtains.

“Don’t have a heart attack, sixer. You’re not ninety three yet.”

“LOGAN, YOU ARE ABOUT TO BE FOUND DEAD IN MIAMI.”

Logan laughed- nothing like his previous evil cackle- he laughed with bubbles and snorted as he clutched his stomach. Roman considered his roommate to be the biggest nerd in Florida.

“I’m going to kill you,” he warned.

“I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

He grabbed Roman’s hand and helped pull him off of the floor, leading him to the kitchen where a tiny graveyard had been glued to cardboard. It was a perfect (though still) match of the ending to the ride, as if someone had taken a screenshot and printed out life.

“And there’s one thing I forgot to mention,” Logan said. He switched back to his (not great) impression, “Beware of Hitchhiking Ghosts.” He pulled a box out from under the counter and put it in front of Roman. He had stopped recording.

“Logan, what is this?”

“That, Roman, is the fiftieth anniversary edition metallic Target exclusive Hitchhiking Ghost Funko POP! set.”

“I can see that.”

“I told you this ride had a gift store.”

“No way-”

“Surprise.”

“Thank you, Logan, really, but... you didn’t have to do this.”

“I’m aware, that’s what makes it a gift.”

“So... why did you?” he asked, holding the box close to his chest.

“I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“You’ve done plenty of nice things for me and-”

“Roman,” he said sternly. “You’re my friend. I must be honest in saying that I had a motivation, I had noticed a slight decline in your mental health and believed this would be beneficial towards you.”

“This?”

“The- uh- the figurines, I mean.”

Roman gave him a soft smile. “Thanks, Logan.”

“We both know how much I’ve done for you, but I don’t think you know why.”

“What a cryptic thing to say,” he joked.

“Roman.”

He let his gaze fall to the ground. “I know.”

“You don’t.” Logan gently lifted up his chin and they locked eyes. “But that’s okay. Now help me clean up before we film the outro.”

---

“Thank you for watching,” Logan said, giving a signature smile. Not too wide, no teeth, keeping a professional aura. Roman wondered how much time he spent in the bathroom just practicing it. “Please do leave a comment or contact me on Twitter if you have any requests for video ideas. We are all going through a lot right now, please remember to take care of your mental health and seek resources if and when you need them.”

Roman kept watching him on the monitor. He still had that professional aura to him, but something soft and understanding in his eyes. No matter who you were or where you were, he seemed to be talking to you. He seemed to care about you. Roman smiled at the monitor, knowing first hand what that meant.

“Roman, would you like to comment?” Logan asked, snapping him back into reality.

“Oh, uh, gay rights!” he said to the camera, trying to shake off any distractions. The last thing he needed was Logan’s fans questioning him on Twitter . Again.

“Well said, Roman. Gay rights, dear viewers. I’ll be returning next week.” He turned off the camera. And smiled.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Flying High, Falling Fast

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; fingering, oral, fucking, subtle creep factor, deceptive charm, the usual fare you know

This is dark!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You meet the new Captain America at an event and impress him with your homemade project, but his interest is more than friendly.

Note: We all need some dark!Sam, right? This is a pretty long one shot, just over 7k words but it was super fun to write a character I don’t get to a lot. But I hope you love him as much as me!

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You’d never been to a meet and greet before but it seemed like the perfect opportunity to meet up with Reese. The two of you met a year and a half ago on a Discord server for PC builds and eventually waded through the awkward blank cursors to real conversations. Little updates on new additions to your machines, memes about coding, and the occasional gaming session. He became a stalwart in your mostly solitary existence between work and your empty private life.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Reese but you felt safer meeting a stranger from the internet in a public setting. Plus, it was his suggestion. His roommate fell through on attending the event with him and you eagerly accepted the unclaimed ticket. Of course, Reese insisted it was his treat but you made him promise to let you pay for lunch.

Even more exciting, you were going to meet the new Captain America. THE CAPTAIN AMERICA. You wanted to squee but had to play it cool as you waited with Reese in the winding queue. 

As exclusive as the meet and greet was, it was stiflingly crowded, even more strenuous as you and Reese tried to adjust your rapport to a face-to-face environment. You mostly ended up chuckling and struggling for some cogent thought.

“What’s in the bag?” Reese asked, finally cracking through the stunted small talk.

“Oh, oh my god, I almost forgot,” you carefully lifted the bag and opened the top to let him peek inside, “I made this last year during lockdown. It’s silly but it was fun.”

He poked his finger around the opening of your drawstring knapsack and his brows rose in surprise. The drone had taken you most of your spare time but you hadn’t yet had a chance to do more than hover it around your bedroom. It was an exact replica, or exact as you could get, of the former Falcon’s Redwing.

“Holy shit! You never mentioned it,” he said.

“Oh, well, I guess… I never thought to. I just spent about an hour or so whenever I could, getting it together. Most of the time was spent on programming,” you closed your bag and let hit hang from your elbow, “and that’s another checkbox on the nerd list.”

“Please, look who you're talking to,” he joked with a snort.

You smiled at him sheepishly and looked ahead of the bodies in front of you as the line shifted forward. He wasn’t exactly disappointing, if anything, he was exactly what you expected. Skinny with black-framed glasses and a bright tee with the Captain’s shield emblazoned across his chest. He wasn’t bad-looking and thankfully not an incel.

“So, uh, you gonna give it to him or something?” Reese asked.

“What-- uh, no, I was hoping he’d sign it actually,” you chewed your lip anxiously, “if I don’t spaz out and just walk away.”

“Right,” he scoffed, “the last time I went to one of these I almost passed out.”

“Oh? Who was it?” you wondered aloud.

“Tony Stark. But I was still in high school,” he explained, “everything else sells out before I get to it. These I got by luck. If David hadn’t swiped them, we’d be standing outside wishing we were in here.”

“I can’t believe he passed on the ticket,” you uttered.

“I’m happy he did,” Reese said, “it made it easier to convince you to meet.”

“Well… we didn’t have to--”

“I’m teasing. Sorry. I’m not very… experienced at this,” he fidgeted.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged as you moved with the line, “I’m just nervous about meeting Captain America, you know? You’re not as intimidating… but I like that.”

“Uh, thanks,” he laughed as you got closer to the table and fidgeted with the straps of your bag. You were almost there.

You stepped up when the people ahead of you cleared away and you couldn’t help but stare at Bucky Barnes’ metal hand as he signed Reese’s special edition Blip magazine. He cleared his throat and you looked the Winter Soldier in the face. 

“Oh, sorry,” you slid the poster you got from the shop on the way in onto the table and he unrolled it and signed. You tried really hard not to focus on his hand, you were so curious as to how it all worked. “Thank you.”

He smiled through tight lips and said, “your welcome” before you sidled down to Sam Wilson as you rolled up your poster.

“Don’t worry about him,” Sam said, “he hates these things. I can’t take him anywhere.”

His laughter received a sharp look from the super soldier. Sam took Reese’s magazine and asked his name. You were too lost in thought to answer when he asked for yours. You coughed and sputtered as you tried to remember and Reese answered for you, adding that you were nervous.

“I, uh, oh,” you lifted your bag, “I was hoping, maybe, you might sign this instead,” you handed the poster to Reese and reached into your knapsack, “if you don’t mind?”

You carefully placed the drone on the table and his brows shot up in surprise. He lifted it just as you let it go and admired it as he leaned back, “you make this?”

“Yeah,” you answered shyly, “doesn’t have all the cool features like yours but it flies.”

“That’s awesome,” he put it back down and uncapped his marker, “where do you want me to sign?”

“Just on the top is fine,” you pointed, “thank you so much.”

“My pleasure,” he put his signature after spelling out your name and he grabbed the drone again, “hey, Buck, look at this? I don’t see any fancy arms that need signing.”

“Shut up,” Bucky grumbled and eyed the drone, “pretty cool, though.”

“Thanks, uh, well, we should get out of the way,” you said.

He handed you the drone and smiled. You began to shuffle away and he called you back to the table, “you code? Do a lot of programming?”

“Mostly just corporate sites,” you answered.

“Here,” he reached into his pocket, “send me a text. I think I know some people who’d like to meet you.”

“What?” you took the card rigidly.

“Sure, we’re always looking for techs,” he said, “and if we can’t find a spot for you, maybe you can see the real Redwing. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Wow, thank you, you… don’t have to do… that,” you stuttered.

“I’d be stupid not to,” he waved off your protests, “you go have fun, you two.”

You backed away and turned to walk away with Reese as you shoved your drone back in your bag with the card, numb with disbelief. 

“Wow, I can’t believe…” you trailed off as you mind wandered.

“Me either,” Reese said oddly, “that’s… wild.”

You looked at him and smiled. He didn’t look mad, only serious. You tightened the neck of the knapsack and slung it over your shoulders.

“So what are we doing for lunch?” you asked.

🌠

In the two weeks since you attended the meet and greet, you and Reese kept up mostly online, many arrangements interrupted by your real life responsibilities. It wasn’t until you offered for him to come with you to the SWORD labs that he had any free time for you. After a stressful text exchange with Captain America, you were too anxious to go alone and he was more than welcoming when you asked to bring a friend.

You stood on the subway as Reese sat and played his Switch. He was jittery as you kept your own nerves hidden just beneath the surface. You found it easier to stay standing as you felt as if you might combust if you sat.

“This is so awesome,” he said as he zipped his Switch up in its case, “thanks for inviting me.”

“I figured I owed you since you got the tickets for the meet and greet,” you said, “and it’s been a while.”

“Sorry about that, work’s been nuts,” he stood as you approached your stop and held onto the pole above your hand, “I kinda skipped out on half a day for this.”

“No,” you frowned, “you didn’t have to--”

“And miss a chance to see the real Redwing? Come on,” he scoffed.

“Oh,” you hung your head, “yeah, I guess that’s worth it.”

“I didn’t mean-- I’m happy to see you too, it’s just kinda a big deal,” he said as you approached the door with the few other passengers readying to hop off.

“No, I get it,” you hooked your thumbs under the straps of your knapsack as the doors slid open and you stepped out onto the platform, “I just… I couldn’t go alone. It’s so… scary.”

“Scary? Jeez, Captain America invited you to a job interview!”

“No, that’s not--”

“Uh, yeah, that’s exactly what it is but I promise, I won’t get in the way,” he said as you head for the concrete stairs, “maybe if he needs an extra coder I might piggy back.”

“Uh huh,” you came up onto the New York sidewalk and came into view of the immense SWORD building, “well, I don’t think it’s all that.”

“So why’d you bring this?” he tapped your bag as you neared the large glass doors and men in suits with coiled wires at their ears squared their shoulders.

“He asked me to,” you said as you were approached by one of the big security guards.

“This isn’t public entry,” he said sternly, “no tours.”

“I have an appointment or… I’m expected,” you pulled out your phone and pulled up the electronic pass Sam sent you, “see?”

“Hmm,” he eyed it and took your phone without asking. Another guard came and scanned it with his phone, “checks out but we’re gonna called down Mr. Wilson and get confirmation.”

“Oh, okay,” you fidgeted as he made no move to return your phone. Reese seemed to shrink as the two men spoke into their headset and nodded at each other.

“Hey,” the glass door burst open as Sam appeared and strode towards you, “hey, sorry, these guys are such buzzkills,” he approached and patted one of the men on the shoulder, “they’re with me.” He assured and waved you after him.

“Um, my phone,” you said to the taller man with the buzzed head. He tilted his head wryly and held out your cell between two fingers. You took it and followed Sam to the doors.

“Anyway, we were just going over some basic maintenance today and I thought you might like to observe. See everything that goes into keeping me and my toys in the air,” he smiled as he held the door and nodded at Reese, “nice to see you again, man.”

“You too, Cap...tain,” Reese answered dumbly.

“Sam is fine,” he chuckled back and tailed the two of you across the lobby as he pointed you towards the elevators. He made Reese look even more like a stick bug. “You bring it?”

“Yeah, it’s in my bag,” you stopped yourself from popping your knuckles out of nervousness, “thank you so much for this. I usually work in cubicles so… uh, yeah… I don’t know what I mean.”

“Hey, don’t be nervous, you built that thing all by yourself? I’m sure you’ll fit right in,” he said.

You got off the elevator and had to hold in a gasp at the shining laboratories as the hi-tech equipment gleamed through the glass walls. Sam led you down the curved staircase onto the lab floors as techs and assistants in both lab coats and starched suits milled around the tables along the edge of the room.

“Hey, Greta,” he called out as he showed you to a metal table, “get a look at this.” A woman with twisted red hair approached as Sam tapped his fingers on the table, “show her,” he urged you.

You swung your bag around and took out the little red and silver drone. You placed it in the middle of the table and the woman, Greta, tilted her head curiously.

“You said you can make this thing fly, right?” Sam asked as Reese watched from the other side of the table.

“Um, yep,” you unlocked your phone and brought up the beta app you designed, “just…”

The drone rose slowly and steadied before you as it hovered over the metal. Greta lifted a dark brow and ran a nail along her chin thoughtfully, “cute.”

“Ah, come on, tell me that isn’t awesome? She did it all by herself,” Sam boasted, “so, what do you think? She’d be a great tech, huh?”

“Tech? I…” you blinked and giggled, that was absurd.

“Does she have a resume? A list of her credentials, at least,” Greta rebuffed.

“Greta,” Sam warned playfully, “I’m her credentials. I’m giving her a reference right now. Hire her.”

“What?” you mumbled under your breath and you saw Reese’s eye cling to Sam darkly, almost enviously.

“You know, if I hadn’t let that kid go for hi-jacking the alpha, I’d tell you to go back to breaking your toys,” she warned, “but I trust you and… I cannot say I’m not impressed,” she narrowed her sights at the floating drone, “how long did this take you?”

“A year or so,” you answered, “it was… just meant to be a hobby but--”

“Well, make it your life,” she said tersely, “Wilson, you deal with HR, Sheila likes you better.”

“Leave it all to me,” he grinned and she walked away.

“Here,” he turned back to you, “I’ll show you the operating system for the real deal.”

He ushered you and Reese over to a computer after you lowered your drone. The real Redwing sat on a module next to the screen and Sam punched the keys and took a hooked earpiece from a small stand, “put this on.”

You slipped the earpiece on as he revealed a bracelet and adjusted it on your wrist, a small ring looping up your index finger. 

“Bend your finger,” he said and you did it, “lift it up, back… like that.” Redwing rose and you watched in amazement, “tilt your head…” the drone aimed in the same direction as your head, “now back,” it flew higher, “just like that. You’re getting it.”

You steered the drone in a circle and Sam helped you maneuver it back down. He let you hand the controls over to Reese who had more fun with it and nearly took out one of the workers. He apologised and Sam just chuckled, though it didn’t sound so amused. 

When Redwing was back in its place, Sam took you all around the room to show you every gadget; his wings, his suit, all his little weapons, and even pulled up some Wakandan schematics of Bucky’s arm. Much of it wasn’t in English however and you could only decipher what was visually laid out. 

He left you there for a moment as he excused himself to chat with a tech about his wings. Reese huffed and leaned against the wall. You were quiet, mostly stunned, though your usual reticence could also be blamed. 

“I don’t think you should’ve brought me,” he said, “I told you it was a job interview.”

“I didn’t know, I thought you would enjoy it,” you felt awful as Reese had given up trying to hide his jealousy.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “well, it is pretty cool but…”

He was interrupted as Sam returned, “sorry about that, guys, I kinda messed up one of the engines on the wings on my last mission.”

You smiled and said it was fine. You hadn’t expected so much attention and thought it would be a brief little show and tell, not an entire tour. You returned to the table where you left your drone and shut down the app. You packed up your Redwing, it felt lighter but you were sure you were just imagining things as your head spun. You looked down at the bold signature across the shell and knotted the drawstring above its nose.

“Sorry, I…” you took your bag from the table, “I hate to bother but is there a bathroom I can use.”

“Oh yeah, just head back up the stairs, left of the elevators,” Sam pointed above, “we’ll wait here, there’s one last thing I wanna show you.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you headed for the stairs and latched onto the railing before you could trip upwards.

You bumbled up the stairs and after a brief moment of blankness, you found your way to the bathroom. You quickly slipped into the stall and spent a minute at the mirror after washing your hands to get your head straight. It felt like a dream, or worse, a joke.

You headed back out and Sam was waiting just by the elevators to your surprise. You pursed your lips and glanced around, “where’s Reese?”

“Oh, yeah, uh, he left,” he said as he shoved his hand in his pocket, “said he wasn’t feeling it.”

“Really?” you shrunk, just a little, “erm… that’s too bad.”

“Yeah, kinda weird, I don’t think I’ve ever just ditched a girlfriend in the middle of the city,” he said.

“Girlfriend? Well… it’s… it’s early,” you rubbed the back of your neck, “I hope he’s okay.”

“Damn, I hope he didn’t ruin it, I still wanted to show you the shield,” he intoned, “but if you’re not feeling up to it--”

“No, no, I’m here, that would be awesome,” you forced a smile. 

Had you done something wrong? Was it rude to invite Reese and have all this rubbed in his face? You thought he’d feel worse if you didn’t invite him. Your doubts flurried in your head as you stepped onto the elevator with Sam, chewing your cheek as you tried not to show your disappointment.

You were brought back to the present as the metal doors opened and Sam nudged you as you stared right through the open space. You stepped out ahead of him and he caught up and walked beside you as he explained what was hidden in every room; mostly offices and training gyms.

He unlocked a door at the far curve of the circular hallway and jiggled until it opened. He pushed it open and the lights flicked on automatically.

“Bucky,” he grumbled, “he almost took the handle right off… so now I gotta fight it.”

“Oh,” you entered as he beckoned you inside and you looked around the spacious office.

“You know, there’s lots of paperwork when you take out a whole bridge, even if it is an accident,” he laughed, “and it gives me a place to show this off.”

He went to the wall where the shield was held on small metal hooks and slid it out easily. The vibranium sung in the air as he turned to you and held it out. 

“You wanna?” he asked.

“Sure…” you murmured as he turned it around and held it so you could hook your arm through the straps. He let it go and stood back to look you over.

“It suits you,” he said, “got your own Redwing and you hold that like a real champ. Maybe it’s time I step aside.”

You laughed nervously and shook your head. You peeked down at the metal and lifted and angled around as you admired the smooth curve. 

“Thanks,” you offered it back to him and he took it with one hand, “for everything.”

“You’re taking the job, right?” he prodded, “it’s perfect.”

“Mmm, well, I got a job--”

“Better than here? Better than suiting up the Cap?” he chided.

You bent your ankle under you and swayed on your feet. It was a great opportunity and way better than your desk job. It just felt like you didn’t deserve it.

“I need an answer. Greta doesn’t like indecision,” he said.

“O-okay, okay,” you surrendered, “I… if I said no, I’d feel even worse.”

“You won’t regret it, promise,” he said, “if you do, Redwing is yours. The real one.”

“No, no, I’m…” you rocked as you gripped the straps of your knapsack, “I’m sure I won’t.”

🌠

Your two weeks notice rolled by. Your boss was less than pleased by the sudden departure but you didn’t care much as you wouldn’t have to deal with him for much longer. You wrapped up your last day with your replacement and left feeling free, though the anxiety of your job loomed on the other side of the weekend.

In those weeks since your visit to the SWORD facility, you hadn’t heard much from Reese. That night when you messaged him to make sure he was okay, he didn’t say much more than ‘just tired’. After that, he was always offline when you signed onto the server and all your co-op requests were declined. You were ready to give up. 

Oh well, it was an online thing anyway, you were stupid to think it could work out.

But you were not entirely isolated. To your surprise, you got several messages from Sam, you still couldn’t help but think of him as Captain America and feel like you had nothing interesting to say to a hero. When he found out you liked to game, he even joined you for a session on headset but again, you were hyper focused and quiet. You were flattered that he was trying to make you feel welcome, that he even bothered to get you a job, but it all felt so above you.

When you got home that night, you logged in and sent a request to Reese, just one last attempt. He didn’t even respond, even after fifteen minutes of waiting. You shut down your PC and grabbed your switch instead. You changed as the system updated your Animal Crossing and flopped onto your bed.

You laid across the mattress, one leg over the edge and the other bent. You ran through, planting, fishing, and selling as you tried not to think too much. You’d done enough of that lately. You zoned out as your eyes narrowed at the small screen but in your peripheral, you felt a shadow move. You shrugged it off as the sunlight playing through the curtains and rolled onto your side to ignore it.

You kept on, ready to log out as you didn’t want to spend another Nook Ticket to go to and island and get nothing but flowers. You heard a subtle whirring and glanced over at your computer. It was sleeping and it was never that loud. You noticed that light shift again and turned. There was nothing. Nothing but your dresser and the signed drone, just as you left it.

You squinted and turned off your Switch. You went out to the front room to drop it back in the dock. You stretched and grabbed your phone from your purse to put in an order for some take-out. You stopped as you noticed Sam’s unanswered messages.

‘Whatcha doin’ tonite?’ and several that assumed you must be busy.

‘Sorry, got caught up gaming,’ you replied guiltily. 

Your phone shook before you could close out of the chat and you answered as Sam’s name flashed across the top. 

“Hello?” you squeaked.

“Hey, hope I’m not buggin’ you but I thought-- stop, Jesus Christ, sorry, we’re on our way to dinner and we hoped you might join us.”

“We?” you echoed.

“Oh, ha, yeah me and Bucky, Greta, and some of the techs. Not too many of us but you’re more than welcome,” he said, “since you start on Monday, it will be good to get to know some people.”

“Y-yeah, for sure,” you answered. It felt more an obligation than an invite. You didn’t want to come across snobbish or lazy even if you’d rather eat fried noodles and watch some trash reality TV.

“Great! I’ll send you the address,” he growled and hissed under his breath, “sorry, again, I’m just dealing with this-- I’ll see you there. Save ya a seat.”

He hung up abruptly and you stood dumbfounded staring at your jacket. You dropped your phone back into your purse and headed back to your room. You had to find something to wear that didn’t seem like you were trying too hard or not trying enough.

As you entered, that same whirring floated through the air and suddenly stopped. You looked around confused; not a fly, not your PC acting up, nothing. You grimaced at the poster with the star emblem across it and went to your dresser to pick out an outfit. It was probably the neighbour fucking around. Apartment living was rarely peaceful.

🌠

The restaurant was bustling as you were met by the hostess at the door. You told her you were there to join the party from SWORD. She showed you to the table and Sam saw you above the din and waved to you then shoved Bucky over on the cushioned bench. 

“Right here,” he pointed as he waved you over and stepped aside to let you past. You sidled along and sat, apologizing to Bucky as he rolled his eyes, “not too late.”

You gave your drink order as a waiter came by and shrugged out of your jacket, letting it bunch up around your back. Sam offered his menu and introduced the people you didn’t know at the table; alongside Bucky and Greta, were Xan and Wyatt. You said hello and opted for the fiesta salad as you set aside the menu.

“Are you excited?” Sam asked.

“For what?” Bucky huffed, “she’s gotta put up with you.”

“Hey,” Sam took the lemon off the rim of his glass and tossed it at Bucky, “he lightens up… sometimes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled but you could hear the humour in his voice. 

You sank into the background as the night went on. You spoke up when you were called on but felt it hard to assert yourself, especially with someone as outspoken as Sam beside you. Still, he made sure to make you feel included when you started to feel forgotten. For that you were grateful and he was right, it made you feel a little less anxious about your first day.

As you came out onto the sidewalk, your wallet painfully lighter, you bid goodbye to everyone but Sam hung around. You clutched your purse and peered down the street.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you said.

“Ah, you know what, I shoulda asked that guy, Reese? How’s it going with him? He your boyfriend yet?”

“Ha, no,” you sucked in your lip and took a deep breath, “I don’t even think we’re friends anymore.”

“Oh no, what happened?” he asked.

“I dunno,” you said wistfully, “but it is what it is.”

“He’s missin’ out. You’re a cool girl,” he said, “building drones for fun. Kinda why I had to snag you, you know? Someone with your skills, that’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” you chortled, “no.”

“Well,” he checked his phone, “how are you getting home?”

“I’ll just take the train,” you said, “my place is only about a ten minute ride from here.”

“You sure? I can give you a ride,” he said.

“Nah, really, you’ve done… more than enough.”

“Alright, well, see you Monday?”

“Monday?” you wondered.

“I’ll pop in before I head out,” he said, “got a mission so I might not be around more than that.”

“Okay, Monday,” you confirmed, “see ya.”

🌠

Monday was a whirlwind. It started on a high as Sam suited up and showed off his wings before he headed up to the jet pad. Greta muttered that she was happy he’d be out of your way before she went through the task of getting you acquainted not only with the tech but with their workplace rituals. It was a lot to take in but you did your best to absorb every word and second.

When you got home, you had a folder full of notes and spent too long going over them before you remembered the groan in your stomach. You ate a lazy super of Kraft Dinner and lazed across your bed doing nothing but watching Youtube tutorials on your tablet. You fell asleep early and woke to your alarm and a dead tablet.

You got up, got dressed, ran out, and did it all again. The first week dragged by and yet it felt like you didn’t have enough time. On Friday, you got home and fell across the couch in your work clothes. You held your phone above you and scrolled dozily through your feed.

A dot popped up and you flicked over to your notifications. The selfie you posted on your first day at the lab with Sam in his suit had lots of hearts but your first comment was less than pleasant. Beside Reese’s icon was all caps: MUST BE EASY SLEEPING YOUR WAY INTO A JOB!

Your heart pattered and you sat up. You deleted the comment but another soon appeared; several as you kept deleting and finally blocked him. ‘Slut, whore, dumb bitch…’ it was the last thing you expected from him.

You opened Discord and clicked on his chat. ‘What’s going on? Why are you doing this?’

The text flicked across the bottom that Reese was typing but he stopped and you sat there for what felt like forever before his response popped up.

‘I can’t believe you brought me all the way there to rub my face in all that shit. And for what? You should’ve just told me I had no chance and I woulda left you alone. If you wanna fuck Sam Wilson, do it, but don’t chain me along like your little bitch boy. Get fucked slut.’

You flinched as you read it and re-read it. You typed shakily as your eyes watered. ‘I’m not fucking Sam and I wouldn’t. I brought you there because I wanted to and thought you would like it. I didn’t know you felt so strongly about it. But I see what you think of me so I only wish you the best and hope you find peace.’

You sent the message but just as quickly, you were blocked from sending any more. You tossed your phone and fell back against the couch. That must have been why he took off but you couldn’t figure out how he thought you of all people were sleeping with Sam Wilson. Really? He was just another incel after all.

You phone jangled with your annoying ringtone and you grabbed it, expecting to be insulted by Reese again but it was Sam calling. You really weren’t in the mood to talk with him. You just wanted to be left alone. But you couldn’t just ignore Captain America.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hey, I just got back in town. Whatcha doing?” you could hear the wind in the speaker.

“Just got home. I’m exhausted. Probably gonna just nap.”

“You okay?” he asked after a moment.

“Fine,” you said dully.

“Don’t sound fine,” he said, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you insisted.

“Oh, so it’s not what that boy said on your photo?”

“You saw that?”

“You tagged me, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s…”

“Shit, don’t listen to him. He’s just a boy, he blew his chance and he’s bitter about it,” he said, “how about I come over, make sure you’re really okay?”

“No, I don’t think--”

“Ah, come on, don’t make me worry all night about you,” he chided.

“Sam, you really--” There was a knock at the window and you froze. “Sam?”

The line clicked and you heard the tapping again. You lowered your phone and went to the window. Outside, geared up in his wings and suit, Sam hovered before the glass. You blinked and he rapped again. You snapped out of your shock and unlocked the window and slid it up.

“What are you doing?” you asked, “wait? How do you know where I live?”

He grabbed onto the frame and hooked his leg through as he retracted his wings. He bent under and sat half-in and half-out of the window, “forgive me? I did a bit of snooping in HR.”

“I told you not to come. I really don’t feel up to-- It’s really weird that you’re here,” you sat as he ducked pulled his other leg through and stood, “Sam, I think you should go.”

“You shouldn’t be alone, especially after that moron sending you that shit,” he said coolly as he took off his tinted goggles.

“Well, I want to be alone, so you should--”

“I mean, I haven’t even fucked you yet and he’s jealous,” he snickered, “so I guess we should give him a real reason.”

“What are you talking about? That’s… gross. You should go--”

“Come on, girl, you think this was really about a drone,” he tossed his goggles down and set his shield on the chair as he strode around the room, “convenience. I want you close.”

“I don’t--” you looked down at your phone, “get out, Sam.”

The tone of your finger pressing ‘9’ sounded and he spun quickly to face you. He stormed over to you before you could hit ‘1’ and ripped it from your grasp. 

“You’re gonna call the cops and say what? I’m Captain America,” he snarled, “but you can just call me Cap.”

He winked and threw your phone out the window smoothly. You gasped as he chuckled and lifted his wings off his back. He leaned them against the wall and stretched out his shoulders. He looked around as he twisted his tongue between his teeth.

“I like this, looks cozy,” he toed the side of the couch with his boot, “look better with you on it.”

You watched him stroll around the coffee table as he unzipped the collar of his suit. The scene was like some tainted nightmare. Maybe you’d fallen asleep. You were so tired you must have just passed out but you weren’t waking up.

You spun around and ran into the small hallway that led to your door. You were caught from behind, pulled back by the nape of your blazer as Sam tutted. His arm went around your waist and he lifted you off your feet. He turned and carried you back into the front room. You kicked and writhed as his strength enwrapped you.

“Please, please,” you begged, “I… I don’t understand. This isn’t-- this isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t--”

“Baby girl,” he cooed as he brought you close to the couch, “be good and listen to your Captain. Now stop this.”

“No, no,” you gulped at air as the panic rose in you, “I never-- please, you don’t have to do this--”

“You gotta do what I say,” he snapped and flung you onto the couch, “I don’t want to make you.”

You looked at him as you trembled in fear and disbelief. This couldn’t be. He was Sam Wilson, the Captain America; he was a nice guy.

“You have one minute to get naked,” he said and you just gaped at him, “you gonna make me repeat myself?”

Your throat tightened as his dark eyes bore into you. His hand balled to a fist and finally you found an ounce of strength. You pushed your legs over the edge of the couch and slipped out of your blazer. You stood carefully and watched him cautiously. You had to look away as your hands quivered over the buttons of your blouse.

You turned and folded your shirt over your blazer. You could hear him behind you as you unbuttoned your pants and pushed them down your legs. The question of what you were doing flitted through your head but the fear pulsed through you and took over.

“Ah,” he sighed and you peeked back as he freed himself of the top half of his stealth suit.

You turned back and hesitated. You knew there was more, you knew what he wanted, but your body locked up as your fingers curled and your insides knotted.

“Let me get that,” he came close and his fingers tickled along your shoulder blades and he unhooked your bra, “hmmm,” he let go and the cups fell off your chest, “almost there, baby.”

He stepped back and you shuddered. You dropped your bra and hooked your fingers under your panties. You wiggled them down a little at the time and heard the intake of breath as you pulled them down entirely. You stood still, unable to move, too mortified to face him.

“Come on, baby,” he said, “get comfortable.”

You inhaled and turned slowly. You went to the couch as he shed his undershirt and added it to the pile atop his shield. He looked at you and tilted his head as he licked his bottom lip. He snarled as he took in the sight of you and pointed you to the couch.

You sat and hugged yourself as he stripped off his pants along with his boxers in a single swipe. You flicked your eyes away as you glimpsed his hard dick as he stood straight and you stared at the open window. You smushed your lips together in horror and held in the tide of tears.

He came closer and you tried to tune out the room. This couldn’t happen. It just couldn’t. You felt his hands on your knees and he urged your legs apart. You resisted for a moment then let him guide your limbs. It would be over sooner if you just let it happen.

He knelt on the floor as his hands kneaded along your thighs and framed your vee as he leaned over your lap. You winced and he kept your legs from closing as he pushed his body between them. His thumb grazed your folds and he pushed between them. You let out a hushed gasp as he swirled around your clit.

“See, it’s not so bad to be good, is it, baby?” he purred, “you’re wet already.”

He slid his thumb up and down and spread the wetness along your cunt. You were shocked and humiliated by your obvious arousal. You shouldn’t be turned on by this. Your body was not listening to your mind, it was obeying his touch.

“Mmm,” he hummed as he turned his hand and poked along your entrance with one finger. 

He pushed inside and you clenched around his intrusion. He pulled in and out and added another finger. Your nails clawed at the cushion and you pressed back into the couch. He kept his thumb on your clit as he worked his fingers inside of you and the tension clustered between his fingertips.

“Oh, baby, listen to you,” he bet forward and replaced his thumb with his tongue as he kept fingering you.

You turned your face up to the ceiling and squeezed your eyes shut. You bit your lip as the ripples radiated from your core and your breath hitched. His hand moved faster as he suckled at your bud and his free hand groped your chest blindly. You slapped your hand over your mouth as you came, your back arching as you pushed into him.

He teased you through your climax and pulled away only as you quaked and whined at his unyielding touch. He drew his fingers out of you and sat back to lick them clean. You peeked down at him and quickly away as his eyes blazed back at you.

“Up,” he stood and stroked himself shamelessly as he strode around the coffee table, “put your hands on there.”

You rose unsteadily, legs shaking beneath you as your entire being felt like jelly. You went to him and turned your back to him. You bent over and he grabbed your ass and squeezed with a growl. You gripped the table and hung your head as the cool air grazed your cunt.

He shoved his hand between your legs and rubbed you again. He stepped closer and bent his knees as he lined himself up with your entrance, sliding in between his fingers as he spread you wide. You choked as his tip poked inside and he eased himself inch by inch into you. He held your hip as he reached his limit and groaned.

“Baby, oh god damn,” he thrust so that your whole body jerked. It was painfully delightful. Of the few men you’d been with, he was the biggest, or at least the thickest.

He rocked slowly and a moan escaped your lips. Despite the torturous pressure of his intrusion, you could ignore the pleasure laced in the pain. His hand brushed up your as and along your back. He bent over you as his fingers curled over your shoulder and he pressed his body to yours as he fucked you.

You kept your head down as you tried to measure your breaths and the pathetic noises rising from you. He pushed his hand down your stomach and between your legs again to play with your clit. He moved his legs against yours and forced them together so your cunt hugged him even tighter. He grunted and you whimpered as his fingers added to the new pressure.

He sped up so that the table scraped against the floor but kept you up with one arm around you. He rutted into you wildly as his sultry voice filled your chest and his heat consumed you. You cried out as another orgasm swept through you and your cunt quivered around him desperately.

He pulled you up suddenly so you stood on your toes. He tilted into you as he brought his arms up around yours and tined his fingers behind your head. His flesh slapped yours loudly and you opened your eyes as you heard a familiar whirring. The drone flew before you, the signature on its shell, but a light blinking at its nose. Yours didn’t have a light.

“What--”

“Ah, yeah,” he rasped through rampant breaths, “looks like they got mixed up.”

“Huh--” you sucked in your breath as he thrust harder and deeper.

“I didn’t mind, he helped me keep an eye on you,” he said as he nuzzled you above his hands, “you look so cute in your little tee shirts.”

You groaned and leaned your head against him as another rush of fear was met with unwanted bliss. You murmured senselessly as he picked up his pace and the drone came closer. He purred as you felt his muscles tighten.

“Don’t worry,” he puffed, “I’ll make sure the boy knows he was right.”

He buried himself in you, nearly taking you off your feet, and twitched as he emptied himself into you. He rocked his hips subtly as he rode out his climax and stilled you as his voice gristled to rampant pants. His arms fell to embrace you and he kept you flush to him as he lingered inside.

“Or I can keep that little video to myself…” he brought his hand up to cradle your chin and poked his finger along your lower lip, “it’s all up to you, baby.”

[vurbubera]

What happened with i-am-a-fish? A compilation:

A lot of people are confused about what happened with Tumblr user i-am-a-fish (who I'll refer to as Fish from here on out for the sake of readability), and a lot of rumor, misinformation and hyperbole is circulating. With this post I hope to compile the claims and evidence against him, examine their validity, and hopefully bring everyone up to speed.

Let's get the main thing out of the way first:

Veggiefact is a Twitter account with over 270k followers. 

The callout post it references is this one: https://ratsofftoya.tumblr.com/post/189087352976/this-is-a-repost-since-just-making-an-addition-to. A second call-out is making the rounds too, from bubblegumlopunny, and it’s a Google doc: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Gv0ixX_jw9geWxFc07b9En--AGHcTqVBO1E6TLGLhHI/edit

Both callouts share about 90% of the same information. Bubblegum’s callout includes accusations of racism and lesbophobia as well, and more incendiary language and questionable charges than the Tumblr post, but in this post I’ll only focus on the accusations that Fish is a pedophile. 

The child porn accounts on Twitter

The “child porn accounts” it refers to are @krskiii, @Karbuitt and @kamawanu__. The last one is actually safe for work, provided you work at a place that’s cool with you being on Twitter, and the second-to-last one sort-of is, depending how your boss feels about suggestive pin-ups and sex jokes. 

Kamawanu posts fanart of various fandoms, but mostly fanart of Rick & Morty and Into the Spider-Verse. Kamawanu is an incest shipper, although they keep that content to a separate, adult-only and locked account. Karbuitt posts artwork of various Nintendo characters, but in particular Viridi from Kid Icarus. Neither of these accounts can be argued to be "dedicated to child porn" in any capacity.  

Although some Tumblr users would argue in earnest this is child porn as well.

Krskiii is the only account to have posted questionable content. While the vast majority of their feed is cute, safe for work anime art, they posted lolicon back in januari this year. Both callouts include a second screenshot from a tweet made in 2016 as well. 

Was this something Fish reasonably could’ve known about? According to the callout in the Google doc:

This is straight-up untrue.

Not only is it perfectly possible to follow Twitters without checking them first (and many follow-for-follow Twitters operate this way) but even if you do vet accounts, there is no archive or tags like Tumblr has to conveniently show you what kind of content you can expect. You have to manually scroll through a person’s timeline or media tab to see what they post.

You’d only see their most recent tweets, not ones they made almost a damn year ago.

Fish followed this account in a follow-spree that had him hit the follow limit for the day on November 12th, almost a whole year after it was made. Fish's claim that he didn't know about these pictures is not only perfectly believable; it’s unlikely that he would’ve even known about it unles he'd dug through this person's media tab quite far.

This is not the behaviour of someone who curated their following list and carefully vetted everyone on it. 

Was this irresponsible behaviour of him, towards both himself and his followers? Sure, you can make that argument. But it’s not evidence for anything more sinister than that.

The Pornhub joke

If you’re still on Tumblr in 2019, you were probably around for the porn purge of 2018, the one that had everyone scrambling for a new online home. With how few alternatives there are of social media sites that allow NSFW content, people started discussing, mostly as a joke, the possibility of moving to Pornhub. It was enough of a Thing that Pornhub's social media department caught wind of it.

I-am-a-fish decided to get in on the joke and created a Pornhub account and posted about “relocating” on Twitter and Tumblr:

How zany! A goldfish on a porn site!

People voiced discomfort over it, so Fish deleted the links from Tumblr and the Twitter bio, but didn't delete the tweet. The Pornhub account itself seems to have never been used.

The sex joke

Part of the callout post is the claim Fish “deliberately exposes minors to porn”, this + the Pornhub thing is what they're referring to.

At some point in late 2018 or early 2019 Fish decided this wasn't the direction he wanted to take his blog into, changed the original post, deleted the reblogs, and hasn't posted nsfw content since.

Also this happened a year ago.

The Discord server

Fish briefly ran a Discord server with a strict no-bullying policy that applied to everyone. This is not a political stance, but it was turned into one. This counts as “believing in reverse oppression”:

Most of the mods were adults, which is supposedly creepy:

One of them thought shipping characters who have been aged-up into adulthood isn't paedophilia:

Someone on the server thought “pedophilia” is a sexuality:

One thing to note here is that none of these actually involve Fish's own thoughts or actions, just those of people he's vaguely associated with (is Mother Allspite a close friend? An acquintance? Someone who volunteered to help moderate the chat?), as well as complete strangers. He's being associated with statements people have made who have no connection to him whatsoever.

Here are the claims I’ve seen making the rounds about the Discord server of which I’ve seen no evidence:

That the mods supported pedophilia

That the mods themselves were pedophiles

That pedophilia was treated as a sexuality you could tag yourself with

That the server was full of pedophiles

The claim that the server mixed minors with adults and didn’t section off nsfw content/discussion is at least a believable one, so I’m not including it here. It’s not proof of anyone being a pedophile, however. It just means the Discord server was poorly managed.

What to make of this?

There is no proof that Fish is anything worse than a young adult (despite the callout posts all making a huge deal out of him being an adult, he's still only 19 years old) who got too popular too fast and didn’t understand the responsibility that came with that. Even for his “worst” offenses there is no proof of ill intent behind them. At worst there is poor judgment, irresponsibility, and impulsiveness. There is certainly no proof that he is attracted to children, much less that he ever acted on it. 

Nevertheless,

(I have no idea where the “20+ Twitters dedicated to child porn” claim comes from and found no evidence whatsoever to support it)