#how fucking hard is it to value Brown people.

[sweenstar-reblogs]

Holy shit i just woke up

If there’s any users in Yemen seeing this, I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.

This feels like a horror film. The UK public haven’t even had a say in this. Sunak’s just Decided to bomb Yemen for …. Being an inconvenience, at worst?

[sneakystorms]

I have to say there is something thrilling in seeing two bullshit writers furiously attack the vague, nonsensical statements of another bullshit writer

[0xstarzx0]

Don’t write it it stinks of toxic love

synopsis: Nate never found someone to love, Rafe was never loved and Y/N was never taken serious Maybe their entry into college will change their lives.

Frat Rafe x Reader x Frat Nate.

[English is not my native language❗️❗️] TW: toxic, smut, sex, penetration, fingering, non-con, manipulation , insult, fight, humiliation, misogynistic attitude. [PART1]

______________________________________________

______________________________________________

NATE 

The summer vacation had not been easy for Nathaniel Jacobs. Between the divorce of his parents, Cassie who was just stalking his and his going to college, nothing was right.

Two weeks before homecoming, he decided to go to Chris Mckay’s, he was happy that Mckay was still talking to him about what happened between him and Cassie.

They were in Mckay’s room playing a fighting game. They were focused in their game when Nate was talking. "Dude?". Mckay turned his head to look at him. "Yeah?" he said.

"How’s college, I mean is there a lot of hot chicks?" Mckay and Nate laugh, Nate laugh to hide his anxiety.

Nate wanted to leave, college was one of the best ways. What Nate was afraid of was not being number one. He was afraid that he would not be THE best football player. That he is not indispensable to his team.

"Nah, man, college is where you can fuck whoever you want, it’s not like high school, people don’t give a shit about who’s fucking who, as long as it’s not cheating." Mckay said.

"How do you get respect?" Nate asks. Mckay seems to think long." I had sex with the cheerleading captain and the opposing college captain. Nate opens his eyes wide. "Two cheerleaders but not the same team or the same college?"

"You’re gaining huge popularity and a huge repsect. You’re teammates will trust you after that." Mckay laughed." So if I understand correctly, a good fuck with a cheerleader captain is the deal?" asks Nate. "Got it all figured out, man. But one advice, close the door of your room when you’re inside."

Mckay’s expression changes, it becomes empty and hard. Filled with hate and sadness. Nate nods, and as he was about to speak the door opens. Drawing the attention of Nate and the latter.

"Chris, your aunt is here, comes to help her carry her boxes." said his mother. "Is she already there?" asked Chris sighing." Yes, she’s already here, with her daughter, so be nice and come now." Demands her mother.

Chris gets up and Nate follows him, they go outside where, his head car is parked. Chris hugs his aunt and takes boxes, Nate only says hello and helps her carry her boxes.

Nate poses where he needs to, he goes back out when he crosses a small head out of the bathroom.

Nate looks at the girl and he feels something, he doesn’t move me and she doesn’t either. He looks at the girl.

She is small, her hair is black braided, long eyelashes that put her brown hazelnut eyes in values , black skin but which shone thanks to the passage of the sunset in the long corridor. Nate begins to detail her body, she has beautiful boobs, a slim waist and beautiful hips that enhance her legs.

She’s wearing a Brazil jersey with black shorts, a cyclist? He doesn’t know, but anyway, this girl makes him feel what no other girl has ever made him feel not even Maddy.

"Y/N" says Chris enthusiastically. Y/N looks at Nate looking away at Chris. "Did you miss me?" she asks trotting towards him.

Chris laughs and hugs her. Nate remains in his thoughts for a short time.

______________________________________________

Nate learned a lot about Y/N. She’s her age, she likes to read, write and fine art, she doesn’t have a boyfriend and something that makes Nate want to have her, in two weeks, they’ll share the same campus.

They go to the same college, she looks so pure and kind, Nate intends to make sure that she lives only by him.

Nate falls in love every time she talks to him and that’s a big problem for our football star.

Especially when Y/N won’t just attract his attention.

______________________________________ [PART 2]

.

.

.

[thewriterg]

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐀𝐛𝐜𝐬

pairing(s);hobie brown x fem!reader, hobie brown x male!reader

summary; you see the title!

word count; around 2k

warning(s); everyone mentioned is 19+, smut.

A/n;—GIFs; @cowboysfuck— The debates going down with the age of everyone in atsv has me shaking in my boots so just know Hobie is a good and legal yummy adult in this 💀

🕷️Aftercare

Being completely and totally honest, babe he’s not cleaning you up.

I know the truth hurts but we have to stop the lies :(

If you meet him at one of his sets or the pub something like that? He’s viewing it as a quick fuck

He’s. A. Whore.

I mean we all seen that slutty ass waist right!?

He’s ran through! 😔

but I’m gonna feed into just a little 🤏🏽

If you happen to be in a relationship/fuck buddies he’s definitely a little more caring

After you both finish hes spooning you pawing his loads back in your cunt when it begins to seep out while lying kisses and bites up you shoulder that will darken by sunrise

Or you’re on top of him your cock slightly twitching inside of him acting as a plug so none of your cum is leaving him hes definitely panting feeling so full of you you as your head rest in the crook of his neck him rubbing his palm over your head down the nape of your neck

He’ll throw the blankets over you both maybe give you some water from the water bottle that sat on his nightstand for a week

🕷️Body Part

Hobies favorite part of you isn’t a body part but your beliefs!

Everyone’s entitled to their own opinions he supports that much BUT

If you can have your own opinion and stand on it!!?

like could see the opposing sides argument take it into consideration and still go to war for your own personal value

On his knees.

He’s that one viral sound where’s its like;

“And I’ll be there for them. With open arms, open legs, and a open mouth 🙂”

Is definitely dropping to his knees to give you head in the next fifteen minutes no matter where

The wrap up of todays lesson he’s just not into shallow people

His favorite part of himself however is his hands more specifically his fingers

If he need to learn a faster tempo place for a song he’s trying to learn you’re going to be his study buddy

“You’re helpin’ me so much thanks lovie” He muttered his index and middle fingers working at a god like pace in and out of your holes beginning to work you up to three as you tried to blink the dots out of your vision moaning at a pitch

He finally got down the song <3

🕷️Cum

Anywhere on your body where he can visibly see

For my girls he’s definitely going for the boobs he’s a tittie man!

For the guys he’s still going for your chest/stomach area

Cum on his face!

Soon there will not be a drop left

hes gonna be that “I eat it all” cat meme

“Gonna c-cum on you’re pretty fucking face, you fucking s-slut” You’re groaning while he’s looking up at you with his big puppy eyes your clit bumping against his nose or when his mouth finally reaches the base of your angry cock whining against the length massaging your balls while being hard as a rock himself a puddle of pre cum resting on his abs

🕷️Dirty Secret

#1

HES A SWITCH.

Goes perfectly with the whole not believing in consistency

I can’t picture Hobie sticking to one roll anyway 💀

I will gladly die on that hill alone if I have to I don’t care.

One day he’s bending you over in a alleyway forcing your hands on a brick wall muttering about how much of a fucking whore you are for dressing in that wife beater your nipple poking through the thin fabric and getting him hard

Next day he’s pathetically humping your loafer/heel under your desk while you have a meeting on your laptop above muffling his loud whine against your leg before you feel his tears on your leg when you shrug your foot away from his aching cock ruining his orgasm

#2

Take this with a grain of salt if you please

But-

You can not sit up here and tell me him and his band members haven’t fucked at least once

This band specifically! Turn down your volume 😟

LIKE!?

that story however is for another day

#3

He has a dick piercing.

A Prince Albert one maybe?

He did it himsel

“Feel tha’ cold ‘ittle bar in your pretty ‘ole?” He would groan pressing down on your abdomen where he can feel himself bottoming out of you before thrusting in deeper than humanly possible grabbing your jaw forcing you to stare into each others soul as he fucks you deep

🕷️Experience

He’s is/was a whore depending on your relationship

He’s ran through, passed around, fucked out.

Loves when you show you’ll always be his best though

“Can’t hear you speak up whore” You hissed wrapping your hand around his neck lifting him up causing his back to arch pleasure painfully as you stop ramming into his hole causing him to whimper as you cock/strap stills in him

“No one f-fucks me like you do, please” He’s whining pathetically moaning in relief when you continue abusing his hole tears slipping past his eyes down to his cheeks

🕷️Favorite position

#1 Missionary!

It’s where either of you can get the deepest

“Look a tha’ feel me in your fuckin’ belly?” He would groan taking one of your hands pressing it against your abdomen as his cock moves in and out of you slowly hitting you spot repeatedly with your ankles crossed against his back

#2 Spooning

Has a lot of lazy mornings of when he’s waking up hard

You happened to already have the same idea 🙀

(#1 somno partaking couple)

Hobie would whimper in his sleep as he felt something warm around his cock and pressure on his lap of you backing up into him wouldn’t wake up until about the third time you’d lower down

In the mornings/where he doesn’t really have a sense on mobility or surrounding is where you’d easily pull the most noises from him

“You feel s-so good, so good birdy”

He’s cumming quick.

🕷️Goofy

Other than like a crack of a smirk?

I’m not really getting a goofy vibe from Hobie

Probably would just tease the fuck out of each other

🕷️Hair

HE HAS A HAPPY TRAIL.

His hair down there is curly and coarse he’ll trim it every once in a while but other than that doesn’t really bother

Most definitely does not give a flying fuck if you decide to shave or not

“Maybe another night ‘bee I didn’t get to shave”

And he’s just like

🤨.

≥))≥

| \_

“Your point?”

🕷️Intimacy

The thought makes him cringe internally

He can get down with it though but it’s mostly saved for important dates like anniversaries, birthdays, achievements, etc.

If you aren’t that intimate of a person that’s even better

But sometimes just take the time out to pull him aside slipping your hands down his jeans and into his boxers gently stroking his cock running your thumb over his slit whispering about how proud you are of him

“You’ve been doing so well I’m so proud of you”

DIHERHBRRIDIN he’s brain dead you murdered his brain into mush

🕷️Jack off

Will when he’s on a mission that takes longer than expected will probably take a video muttering how much he misses you while stroking his aching cock

But something else?

He can be a good boy when he wants

Put a cockring on him tell him if he lasts all day he can get a reward?

Struggling hard asf but will not touch himself cause what’s better than being your good boy!? ‼️🦅

🕷️Kink

Probably almost everything in the damn book but here are his mains

#1; Praise/Degradation

Just the right amount of both driving everyone up the wall

“Look at you takin’ my cock like a fuckin’ champ, that’s wha’ sluts do isn’t that right?” He mutters flash light kissing your skin as he records you on his phone pushing the back of your head down on his dick as you gag around the bask saliva and precum all around your mouth and cheeks

#2; Slapping/Spanking

I’m getting heavy rag doll vibes

Will purposely get you rilled up and jealous before slipping away before you can reach him essentially a game of cat and mouse

when you finally catch him you’re grabbing him by the back of his neck to a bathroom or alleyway

“You wanna be a fucking whore I’ll show you what they get” You hissed and he’s more than aroused as you pull down his trousers him thinking he was about to get the roughest railing/fingering of his life just for you to land a harsh slap on his ass!?

Rock hard.

“Please ‘m sorry, please” Would end up crying cause it hurt yet felt so good

brain was foggy asf

When you deemed it enough for now you pulled his pants back up dragging him back to whatever function you were at ignoring his subtle gestures to get you both back to his side place

You force his ass to go sit tf down somewhere 💪🏽‼️🦅

Smirking like a mf when you watch him subtly groan feeling the distance stinging pain on his ass while trying to get through the conversation

#3; Being/having a cum dump

This is kinda icky for some people and I get it so read with caution ⚠️

Not only is he going to fill you up!? He’s going to plug you up .

Will literally make you go out all day with your cum in him

If you’re a spidey?

Will have your walking around the spider society looking a bit “bloated” little does everyone know you’re literally plugged with Hobies loads

Or when you’re at home will come behind you and rub his palms over your full belly

Feral.

But sometimes he need to be check so switch the roles

How this would happen is, he would talk big shit and place a bet of who was gonna cum first when both of you had a vibrator pressed against your designated places

He lost.

Would definitely try to hit you with that “I don’t believe in loosing 🙄” shit

But

A bet is a bet

And so

For a whole 24 hours both of you having to go on a mission that day he had dildo shoved up his ass

It’s very funny seeing him slightly limp when he walks as the fake cock sits snugly in his ass kissing his prostate at any slight turn or bumb in the road or when he turns the corner too sharply while swinging

by the end of the day HES DEAD.

would definitely do it again

🕷️Location

Boobs.

🕷️Motivation

When you hype yourself up or carry yourself with confidence!?

Hobies like

🗣️ “SIGN ME TF UP!”

Gets off on it so quick

🕷️No

This might be a little controversial and me self projecting but

Do not pull his hair.

His wicks are very delicate and as POC Caribbean native/Black to be specific not a big fan when it comes to messing with our hair

Scratch his back, slap him, spank him, choke him, anything else but pulling his hair.

🕷️Oral

Oral fixation

On some rough nights where he can’t sleep!? His moth will end up on your clit/cock

Is a Cock/Pussy drinker!

Holds down your thighs when you cum and he keeps going to keep you from retreating or bucking your hips

Gives head for his own pleasure tbh

🕷️Place

EVERYWHERE

Will fuck you anywhere and everywhere grinning like the god damn chesire cat

We’re gonna get more into this in ‘Risk’

🕷️Quickie

Absolutely

Behind stage before he goes on will without a doubt have you propped up against something fingering you at an alarming rate

“Gotta make sure my fingers don’t cram up yeah?”

🕷️Risk

What we’ve all been waiting for 🙀

You’ve probably fucked all over London and New York if you’re a spidey person lmao

One of the most jaw dropping places you’ve both had sex was probably the top of an abandoned building as the sun was beginning to set

“See tha’? Almost looks as pretty as you lovie” Hobie muttered thrusting his cock into your hole as your hands grip onto the railing moaning breathlessly before he groans from behind

Then probably an alley

“Shut up before you get us caught, but you would like that wouldn’t you?” You hissed your back pressed against the cold stone wall while Hobie thrusted into you hips bucking occasionally letting out a too loud whine

If you’re a spidey you’re really just talking because your senses would guide you to when someone’s coming or not

Hobie usually is able to sense it to but he’s seems too fucked out to even care

ONCE YALL DID IT IN A POOL BATHROOM!?

“Baby we can’t there’s to many kids around here”

Hobie is the #1 🗣️ “FUCK THEM KIDS” cheerleader

Does not, will not, still can’t not seem to give a single fuc-

🕷️Sext

Yes

You have made him cut band practice short more times he cares to count

‘3 attachments 1 video’ just something to get you through until practice is over <3

IS GETTING TF ON

Coming home to you with a pep in his step

He has and will send you videos of him jerking himself off when either of you are on missions or if you’re at work

“See how fuckin’ hard I am for you birdy? Cock misses you s’much we need you” You can hear his gruff voice cracking behind the camera as he strokes his cock running his thumb over his slit

He will send you whimper audios once every blue moon

anyways both of you guys are yummy!

🕷️Toys

Yes, yes, and yes

I have plenty examples already

So we’re just going to leave this as yes

…

Tbh he has a fuckin VARIETY

Stop I need to go now 😔✋🏽

🕷️Unfair

The biggest fucking tease ever

If you can keep up with him it’s for the greater good if you can’t, you must be left to the wolves 😖

One time you came home from Work/patrol tired as ever and he was on you the minute you were in the door

“Not tonight hon I’m too tired” You muttered taking your shoes off my the door followed along by your jacket etc

“I’ll do the work you can just flop down and star fish it out” You we static at the thought

Just for this mf to deny you at least four time before you fucking lost it flipped positions shoving his face in the mattress all tiredness out the window

“Said you were gonna take fucking care of me but since you wanna be a little whore we’ll see how you like it”

It was a long night

🕷️Volume

Hobie can be very vocal when he wants Mewls, moans, cries, whimpers, whines you name it

He knows his sounds get you off but sometimes he’ll be an asshole brat and keep them from you

But you’ll fix that shit up real quick I believe in you!

🕷️Wild Card

HIM AMD HIS BAND FUCKED/FUCKS.

🕷️X ray

He’s definitely a shower!

7.5 inches 8 when he’s hard

🕷️Yes

Mark him up

Hickeys, hand prints, bruises he needs it all

Does the same for you

Especially if you’re a spidey the bruises won’t stay long with your inhuman abilities

So y’all are running back to each other when they quickly begin to fade

🕷️Zzz

Hobie thinks he’s nocturnal

He’s not sleeping on the normal night so he’s not really sleepy on a intimate one either before he met you

Only time he’s really knocked is if he was in a subier space

Which he’s commonly in

So you’re putting him to sleep one way or another

💌💌💌💌

Oh wow funny seeing you here after two weeks 😅

I have so many drafts of my baby Hobs

Anyway if you could answer the poll down below much would be appreciated!

[guessimwritingficsagain]

Kintsugi (the golden roses will bloom prettily in the space between your ribs) Chapter 4

Summary : You'd met Joel a year ago. Then you learn he and Tess are gone from the Boston QZ. You go find Jackson on your own.

Warnings : Mature content, MDNI, rape attempt (not from Joel, though), pining, ANGST.

Tags : Just ask.

Chapter Three

———

You sit quiet when he’s done. Joel’s body is slumped on the couch in front of you, a man at the end of his rope. He’s looking at the wall, just waiting. Waiting to finally be left off the hook except-

He told you the when.

He told you the where.

He told you the how.

(How he murdered all of these people to keep Ellie from dying and that’s what she doesn’t know but suspects).

But he didn’t tell you the why.

So you ask, a third time. One last time.

‘Why did you bring her to some people who wanted to kill her ?’

‘I didn’t know.’

‘Yeah, okay, but why-‘

‘I’m not tellin’ you.’ He’s looking at you, now, eyes hard, jaw clenched, and you recognize the look- you’ve been the recipient of it many times. There’s no arguing with him now. Holding his gaze, you think about your bag, still made, waiting.

He musts see something on your face, then, because he jaw unclenches and his arm reaches for you but you’re already getting up. 

‘Well, I’m glad you’re safe, Joel. And I’m sorry about Tess.’ 

You walk to the front door and hear him follow. A hand grabs one of your arms

‘Hey, hey !’ Joel’s voice is frantic. ‘We’re back together, now, we can-‘

You wrench your arm out of his grasp, turn, and look him in the eye. You think about your bag, ready to go, an old thing that you’ve patched up so many times, faded forest green, still reliable because of the care you’ve shown it. You see his eyes, Joel’s eyes, warm brown, pleading to listen, to stay. You think of the most important thing you have, a secret, the only thing that is just yours.

———

‘Jesse ? Jesse where are you ?’ You screamed. 

You knew the area was safe, you’d scouted it every day for the past week. Same patrol, same route, every day, with Jesse. I-could-be-Indiana-Jones Jesse. 

Fuck Tommy and his stupid cold. 

You’d been off the trail for at least fifteen minutes when you saw it : a little cabin, right in the middle of the woods. Out there, it was just clean air, the sound of your horse’s hooves, your own breathing and birds chirping, up in trees so tall you could barely see the sky. 

You dismounted, gun at the ready. Crouched, advanced, slowly. 

The hand opening the door to the cabin was not as steady as you’d wished. 

The place was empty, and there was nothing of value, and you were ready to leave when you saw it-

A vase. 

Pretty. 

Broken. 

It cut your finger when you touched it. 

You heard your name being shouted, in the distance,, shut the door, got back on your horse and left. When Jesse asked where you’re been you just answered :

‘Lookin’ for you, idiot. Don’t stray, next time.’

You never mentioned the cabin, and no one ever asked, because no one ever asked you anything.

———

‘There’s no we, Joel.’

You think about the bag. 

‘There never was.’

You think about the cabin. 

You don’t think about his eyes, boring into yours. 

‘I was always alone. Always.’

As he takes a step forward, you realize that you don’t know if this feeling inside your chest means you don’t care anymore or if it means you care too much. You can’t be bothered to find out so you repeat- and add :

‘I was always alone, but I was the loneliest when I was with you.’

——— 

When Tommy opens the door and see you with your backpack he jokes :

‘Goin’ on a trip or somethin’ ?’

‘I’m leavin’, I need you to open the gates for me.’

Tommy just- stares. And gapes. He looks like a fucking idiot fish, you think, as Maria, always the smart one, joins in, little Lucas in her arms and asks : 

‘Can’t it wait until we talk about this ?’

Your no is as final as a nail in a coffin. Maria nods, gives Lucas to her husband and motions you to follow her, despite her husband’s pleas of wait, wait, is this about my brother ? We can work this out, wait, please-

The walk to the gate is peaceful, you greet the people who greet Maria as you walk by. 

‘If you need a horse, we can give you one.’ She offers.

You shrug.

‘I know where I’m goin’, I don’t need one. It’s gonna take longer but I don’t wanna take away from you guys.’

You’re almost at the gates when Maria asks :

‘Why are you leaving ?’

You turn to her, and she’s very pretty, like that, the curls of her hair catching the sun, her skin shining in the morning light. You could have been friends with her, you think.

Once upon a time.

‘Why did you take me off patrol ?’ You answer.

She doesn’t answer but even a woman as strong-headed as Maria has tells.You see it in the way she briefly clenches her fists, the way her jaw locks. Her eyes leave yours, in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of way, but it’s enough. 

The gates open. 

You’re feeling a lot.

You’re feeling petty. 

Wallflower.

Sunflower.

Rose.

Thorns.

You turn to her one last time. ‘You’re letting me go very easily.’ 

You adjust your bag on your shoulder. You add :

‘Y’know, for someone who claims to give a shit.’

———

Two hours and a half later, give or take, Joel Miller did exactly what Ellie was afraid of and rode off to find you. 

The only difference was 

Ellie asked him to do it.

———

Taglist

@pedritobalmando @amidjarin @ajeff855 @justpedropascal @sara-alonso @sarahjkl82-blog @amidjarin @sara-alonso@justpedropasc@mrsbentallmadge @farfromjustordinary @hnt-escape @kirsteng42 @ace-27749 @pocket-of-possibilities @missladym1981

[ochrearia]

This will update in time, but for now all I have

I don't have the courage to post this myself so this will probably be scheduled for some horrendous time at night. I also don't have the courage to point out who is who because I'm scared maybe they won't like how they sound, though maybe if I go into detail too hard it might be possible to tell. Lol. This isn't everyone yet. I still need some more time to see who everyone is, blah blah blah, bunch of stupid abstract brain stuff, but. Playlist of my friends I've made here... yeah

Wounds- doesn't count because that's me. Decided to put it there because why not. I don't need to talk about myself let's be real no one cares about that

Norduris. Funny, somehow right away this was you. I love when that happens, when a song just reacts so strongly with the whole person in my head I'm searching for. Everything I've seen of you screams this song and it's. Beautiful to me. Always is but it doesn't get tiring. So much of you seems like it was locked away and buried in worry. Wistful thinking and hoping for the future. There is so much good in you. I think I'll stick around for as long as I can to help you see that. Kind and comforting. Creative and inspired just about every time I've seen you, I think. But I think you worry too much. There's fear and anger in there and I think, maybe, I wish there didn't have to be. Well, not the unjustified ones at least. But it all pools together for a strength that I think fits you. Still hopeful and still going. I like that about people... That might be a recurring theme for everyone really. But it's still you, too. Such slow waltzing shades of gray, like fog and the cover of rain. Pastel yellow like the sun, deep, deep green accompanying the rest. There you are, Noah.

Lost. You know the song titles don't really mean anything before you might ask. I never take it into account. Just the way it sounds. I also think you worry far too much but then again you've gone through for too much. But you are creative, and fun, and uplifting. Think you have a little bit of a habit of subduing yourself in fear of something I never quite know. But you are patient, so patient and I value that a lot. Especially when it's given to me. Nervous at times, needing permission before letting yourself shine. Wisdom about you that sometimes I really need to hear. You really know how to rile someone up in a playful way and I don't think enough people play into such things anymore. Wonderful to see really. Like a slow stream in a still air, deep, deep gray and neon blue. Streaks of white too, liminal in a way that reminds me of a barren tundra with nothing to be seen in any direction. Nothing but you. Hey there, Gold <3

daydream. Augh, I feel like my brain is stalling over how to put everything I have seen into words. Something about you just feels so positive, an upbeat air to you even if you're not feeling okay. You're still there, and I see you. Confident a lot of the time, and it's well warranted I believe. Other times not so much. Kind and caring like everyone I know here is, and a childlike excitement every time we talk that I do adore. God you know so well how to make other people excited with you. And you care, so much, I know everyone does but there's something about it with you that's just... electric, is the word I think. There's different styles of care but that one is yours. Funny. I think you make me feel safe in all the fucked up ways my own mind will talk to me. Maybe it's because I think we have a lot of similarities. It's always been positive with you, even when it isn't because you make caring about you easy. You know how the light of the sun shimmers on a body of water? That's kind of how you move, a sweet caramel brown and autumn orange, little drops of red about your air. So wonderful to meet you, Karl.

demise. Again, I swear the titles do not come into play with this. I suppose there's only so much I can repeat about someone being kind, caring, and fun before it starts feeling less special. I promise that never happens, no matter how many people I know like that in my life. Especially when your style of caring is just so... calming. And determined. Offering so much to people you care about even if maybe they haven't earned it yet. That doesn't seem to matter to you. You're giving it anyways. You're a giver, I suppose. You do a lot of creating and it's stunning. and you offer so much to others because you want to. Able to make people feel safe and like they matter. Love the mischief you get up to a lot too. Dedicated to so many things. Greens of jade and pastel grass, white all between them like a snow flurry. A bit of silvery undertones. I'm glad that I get to know you Shed.

Night Beacon. I held off for a few days more before considering you because I wanted to be accurate. There is something to be said about being quiet, in a sense that is positive and not whatever I say when talking about myself. A good kind of quiet, maybe mellow is the word I am looking for. I like when my friends are passionate and you are no exception. A certain type of calmness that I can't quite explain. I think there is a kindness in your ability to just exist and that may not make, sense, but it's the best I can say. You tough through a lot of things you might not want to do but there's a strength in that. And of course, you are creative. I make friends with creatives a lot. I think maybe you are the kind of person I would pick first to surround myself with. Chill overall that can swap into a more serious frame of mind whenever needed, knowing how to navigate around vibes and situations while being kind. And still someone who is enthusiastic about things you like in a way that isn't overwhelming. It's nice. Might put you on a loop more often than I should, lol. Peach and bright orange, with yellow mixed in with it. Along with a pretty desaturated beige, the best I can put it. Literally like the air of the world during a sunset. You should be proud of that Isaac.

[artificial-transmutations]

Transformation Letter: Dian

Hello. My name is Dian and I wouldn't mind transforming into anything or anyone. I'm an single 38 bisexual teacher, whom works out twice per week. My students would most likely describe me as the boring brown math teacher with the medium length black hair.

It wouldn't be right to say that today it is your favorite day of the year. To be honest, it's not even clear if you even have a favorite day of the year, at least regarding to your job.

Not anymore, at least. With your 38 years, you are teaching math for over ten years now. Ten years of reiterating the same and same again to your students. It is what people describe one of the biggest boons of teaching math: The subject never changes. While your colleagues have to integrate some new events or discoveries into their lessons every now and then, math never changes.

So, why is today one of the days you look most forward to? Because it's time for curve sketching again. This is both the subject you discovered your passion for math with and the point in the curriculum where you can see clearly which students are able to grasp the concepts of math - and which are too dumb.

Still, calling that one of your highlights sheds a sorry light on your academic career. Becoming a teacher *seemed* like a good idea, but the truth is that the endless repetitions are mind-numbingly dumb. You could have gotten a research job at university, but you decided to become a teacher. Ever since, every day is the same, every week, every year. Everything is on repeat. Teaching, driving home, working out twice a week, like a clockwork, summer holidays, winter holidays, one and the same.

You shake away the thought and sigh before entering your classroom and begin your lesson. You have the feeling you will lose half of your students today, intellectually, but you can hardly feel sorry. Math in school isn't hard. There is no reason for anyone not to get it.

So, you drone on and slowly approach one of the central milestones of the subject.

"And, as h approaches zero, we narrow in to the slope of the curve on that singular value for x. That is what we call a dancing quotient."

You look into the confused faces of your students. What did you just say? No, this is wrong. You try again.

"Sorry. The diffuse quo..." You trail off. Something is not quite right with you. You should know the word for that... thing. You look at the blackboard again. A big line with letters above and below, some arrows and a drawing of some curve. If you are honest, you don't understand fuck about all that. Weren't you supposed to teach math? Where are the numbers? What are letters doing in math.

"Is everything alright, Sir?" one of your students asks. Something else is wrong. When you look at your hand holding the chalk, it is way darker than it is supposed to look.

"Excuse me..." you mumble, surprised how deep your voice sounds. You exit the classroom and head towards the nearest bathroom, almost running.

The world seems wrong, too. It's like you’re looking at it from way too high. When you finally arrive and look at the mirror, you notice that your clothes are tight and constricting. Looking back from the mirror is another man, not the 38 year old math teacher you are used seeing every morning. The face looking back at you is younger, twenty-something. And it is Black, African American heritage, definitely. You can see your medium length black hair receding into your scalp, leaving you with the shortest buzz cut, as your nostrils become wider.

Not just your face changed! Your muscles grow and your shoulders expand, bringing your clothes that are riding high close to the breaking point. They don't break, however, but reform into a simple work uniform, covering your massive black body. At your groin, you can see the ample bulge of your dick and it makes you smile contently. You might not be the smartest, but you sure are both the strongest and best endowed man around here.

You give the mirror one last wipe and begin to clean the toilets with the janitorial equipment in your cart. Being a janitor in school is good work and doesn't require much of an education. That's why you even clean the toilets happily. However, it doesn't really pay well, either, so, recently you have gotten a second job as a bouncer in front of a gay club.

You don't mind the club visitors ogling your body or touching it from time to time, so the combination of both jobs makes for a diverse and eventful life! The strange letter you sent two weeks ago is already well forgotten.

Another one of those Transformation Letters. You, too can send one, over at my riot page!

[felikatze]

ultimately while i adore tristrat beyond belief it does fall into genre typical prejudices that are not any more egregious than its genre compatriots but nonetheless worth adressing as a flaw in the game's worldbuilding and a cheap shot against its storytelling

tldr: frederica should've been black

tristrat excels in actually meaningfully examining prejudice and slavery under a more critical eye than "it's bad, don't do it," mainly that it explores the actual reasoning of it. namely that oppressors do reap benefits from the oppression they enact - here the oppression of the roselle is the key pillar to hyzante's prosperity. first, the roselle are a cheap workforce for backbreaking labor no one is willing to enact themselves. the hyzantians can turn to more leisurely and educated pursuits in science while ignoring the reality of hard labor. secondly the oppression of the roselle's history allows hyzante a monopoly on a precious resource, salt, which it uses rosellan labor to extract.

cheap labor + monopoly on the land's resources = profit

the motif of "the rosellan people are hated by the goddess and must forever atone for their sins" was then posed in retrospect as a justification for hyzante's stranglehold on resources, which then seeped into the culture and teachings of the country until the roselle were naught but sinners.

the roselle are light skinned and the hyzantians are arabs.

fuck, even the good hyzantians are light skinned. there are two dark skinned playable hyzantian characters (geela and quahag), whereas there are three playble light skinned hyzantians (archibald, corentin, medina), and one dark skinned non-hyzantian character (hossbara). Of note here is that quahag is literally one of tge three last characters you can unlock, and Geela is the only dark skinned main character (compared to 6 light skinned characters)

Frederica's story and her frustrations ring incredibly true to real world struggles for liberty (e.g. the people being exploited for lithium in congo, the blm movement), especially in frederica's mounting frustrations that she keeps being told to "wait just a bit longer". It is never the right time for her people to stop being slaves because the ruling class have other things to do first, when she knows more of her people are dying every single goddamn day. This anger being portrayed as rightous, being a core driving force of lategame plot, and being rightfully enacted in the golden route is rather novel for video games, mainly for ones i've seen.

I also appreciate the dive into religion as a tool of oppression - it is never relevant whether the Goddess actually exists. It is only relevant that faith in her and her teachings is used to chain the Roselle.

And yet Frederica's story rings just a tad hollow with her being as snow-white as all the rest - her struggle speaks deeply to POC using a white person as a mouthpiece, much how POC struggle to find respect unless a white person points the prejudice out first, regardless of how long and loudly POC were advocating for themselves first.

Tristrat falls into that same trap of ultimately having the rightous white defeat the dastardly arab. When really, there is no real reason the Roselle and other Hyzantian characters should not be as dark skinned as the rest. Even in real life, skin color is not the only axis of oppression, and you'll find no shortage of examples in the SWANA region that the west would both consider POC, because the label of POC only really holds any value in the west, where whiteness represents the cultural majority.

I bring this up not to say POC naturally oppress each other, but to illustrate that Tristrat's real world implications draw on a "reverse racism" angle - white people being enslaved by brown people, as it absolutely has not been for all of human history in any systemic measure. And this angle could've been entirely avoided by not making the Roselle white.

Additionally, Hyzante, again, the only country with multiple POC, is portrayed as the most villanous, particularly in the endgame and golden route. Isodore, Hyzante's religious leader, is the final boss of the golden route. With Hyzante being the only religious country as well, it brings to mind the demonization of Islam as a uniquely oppressive force when any religion can and has been used to the same end. Islam is not unique in this and should not be demonized for Islamic regimes, just as Christianity is largely not demonized for its use in justifying imperialism.

The imperialist capitalist force is of course represented by Aesfrost and Gustadolph, who believes in the free hand of the market. I have less to say on this than the whole Hyzante thing though I do find an examination of Aesfrost as capitalist and Hyzante as communist interesting. The worst of both worlds, obviously, with the unified Norzelia deciding to share all resources freely between all countries as needed representing something of a socialist dream.

Anyways, it's odd to me that Gustadolph is more or less a stepping stone in the Golden Ending compared to Isodore, when Gustadolph's conquest of Glenbrook is the catalyst for all events of the game. Again earlygame it's all against Aesfrost, with the player even allying with Hyzante by either force or choice depending on the route, yet the leaf turns the entire other way to ally with Aesfrost against Hyzante.

Maybe it's a JRPG prediliction to god killing but it is overall something to note that Hyzante is the final villain, meaning the villain most likely to stick in the player's memory.

I think I ran out of words I think my point got across. Tristrat handles the subject incredibly well and in nuance yet the ties to actual reality are muddled, weakened, and opposed by the character design which ultimately ends with the white people being in the right to defeat the evil arabs when this could've been avoided by making the Roselle POC as well, as they should really be by geographical logic, and it would've allowed Frederica's character much greater real world resonance.

Also sidenote it's fatphobic that the fat characters are all greedy moneygrubbers (Lionel, Sorsley, Silvio) even if Lionel is one of the good guys.

That's all goodnight

[tododeku-or-bust]

So it's not a short complaint no more. Sorry. Like I said, if you think im a whiny negress and hate fandom racism mentions bc they make you uncomfortable and "race isn't real in your fun safe space" gone head and block me. That's fine. I just gotta get this off my chest (and I'm musing CALMLY) and I'll be good.

Okay. So I've been trying not to say anything bc I know how it'll be perceived. I've really pulled myself back from participating in the Patrochilles fandom outside of making my own shit, bc I recognize that shouting to the uncaring wind isn't gonna do anything. Me focusing on my own work and what makes me happy is healthier. I make my stuff, you're spared hearing my concerns. Everyone wins. Fine.

I think what fucks with me is that as a whole, specifically in the Hades portion but also in response to it, is that half of the ship is of a (poorly canonically drawn) Black man... But none of the popular voices, writers, or artists in this space.... are openly Black. Even people who have Black/Ambiguously Brown™ Patroclus in their TSoA fic usually aren't. You would think that Black voices would be valued in a space like that.

(And ik what people are gonna say. "Oh you're just mad you're not popular!" Not really lol. I got my couple people that cheer me on, and I recognize the dehumanizing song and dance that is required to be popular in white fandoms and it's not for me.)

Like I just... No one white has ever had to experience that, you know? Of having a ship with a white person and everybody in the space DOESN'T look like you. And then, like 65% of them draw the character that's supposed to look like you kinda poorly. And you're supposed to accept that, or YOU'RE the problem. "You're not even supposed to be here" is what a good chunk of the racist adjacent ship fandom has BLATANTLY said or implied about you and that character, unwilling to even draw someone that looks like you despite historical and geographical evidence of your existence to the contrary (that's a jab at some of the severely racist takes I've seen on here of Black people somehow not existing in the Mediterranean, bc Jesus Christ).

And then everyone will ignore those occasionally overt, usually covert statements and continue to laugh along and share art bc they're entertained. Like... Wow. So antiblack racism really don't bother y'all, huh? You'd rather be a racist just to fit in? That's what's cool?

And what really hurts, is that I've found that I'll have similar ideas to other people, maybe even done them first, but I don't receive that hand in community in comparison and it's been hard not to let myself believe that the being openly Black has to do with it. Even in the ship sections that aren't Hades related. Bc ik if I said something directly to people for their actions, I'll just get dogpiled for "ruining the fun" or "hurting someones feelings for their art/writing style" or some shit, so I don't bother. Like, fine, I get it. Gone head and stay racist on your own time lmao 🤣

This was supposed to be short. My bad. I guess I'm just wondering if I wanna stick around bc I don't like self-questioning the value of my humanity, having to stay at the edge of a place that was supposed to be fun. Okay, I'm glad I got that out 😮‍💨 I feel better now.

[daemon-in-my-head]

I'm sorry in advance. Spoiler, this is my personal opinion, but it's such a hard pet peeve of mine and I see it creeping back up again so;

There is no fucking way, not in this timeline nor any other. Heck not even in another universe, that Lord Enver fucking Gortash would ever associate with Lathander or even convert to his beliefs.

Do you know Lathander? He's the guy who goes 'hey y'all let's chill, take a nap, afterwards everything's gonna be wonderful again'. Yk. The one ever optimistic god who isn't even enemies with the fucking dead three. The one guy who values creativity and arts over everything. He's a god of patience, of second chances. Of trying again. He's 'nice and happy' incarnate.

I'm genuinely confused how people can read the bratty absolutely selfish and petty tyrant into that. Like, blorbofication this that, yada yada, Lathander is genuinely the polar opposite of Gortash and anything he stands for.

Second chances? That man blows up his hidden mad scientist layer just because PC got there. Doesn't even fucking matter if u intend to save his hostages. That's his layer, he told u not to, u didn't listen, so he arrives at the very logical and patient conclusion to blow a structure thats older than himself with a fair bit of history into a million little pieces.

May I also remind you that all of the things he did down there either served to prove his point that yes, his parents are absolutely vile or just straight up cruelty for funsies. That is not a chill guy and defo not a 2nd chances man.

Also, creativity. Yeah. We saw him get a portrait done. Yk what he usually uses them for? Right! Fucking propaganda. Yk the paintings in his already scarcely decorated office? Yeah there's a safe hidden beneath all of em. That guy doesn't value art for arts or creativities sake, he views it as a tool. Even his own creations are pretty exclusively tools or to serve his purpose. Oh also, respecting the arts? Yeah that man killed multiple bards cuz it would suit his goals. How the fuck does he respect art in any way, shape or form?

So all in all, that guy is farther removed from Lathander than any other person could ever be. Goddamn Astarion is closer to that God and he's one of the coven that was nearly eradicated by that church.

But yk who he's close to? With whom he shares resemblance and who else has a sun motive?

Cyric. Also known as the Prince of Lies, the Mad God, the Dark/Black Sun, the Face behind the Mask or the Lord of Three/Four Crowns. So essentially all titles you wouldn't have a hard time associating with the tyrant that play pretends to be a devil, the mastermind behind the Absolutes Plot and the madman who aims to usurp the dead three.

Cyric schemed his way into godhood much as Gortash schemed his way into nobility. Listen I'm not the greatest fan of Abdel Adrian either, but that guy had to slay a bunch of Bhaalspawn and confront a whole ass god to become a Duke. Gortash somehow talked his way into becoming an archduke in 10 years tops while actively developing pipe bombs rather than defeating a lord of murder. He is a fucking trickster. And a perfect one at that.

Also, lord of the four Crowns? Yes. Gortash, as Archduke, does rank higher than the council of four. Yk, the 4 Dukes that rule the Gate? One may say the 4 heads of the gate, the 4 fucking crowns?

Lord of Three Crowns? Well look who it is, the man who wants to usurp and claim the dead threes portfolio for himself and ascent to godhood. The one who orchestrated the cooperation between the three chosen and kept somewhat amicable relations between all of em.

He even looks close to the mortal Cyric for goodness sake:

"As a mortal man, Cyric had a lean athletic build. His dark brown hair outlined a face of sharp angles, highlighted by crow's-feet eyes, a pointed chin, and hawkish nose."

That's Gortash. Like. That's how you'd describe that tyrant.

And yk what else? Gortash and Bane share a fuck ton of similarities too. If Bane takes possession of a mortal it usually drives said mortal absolutely mad in the end. Gortash is still relatively sane (oddly enough) so that guy probably wasn't possessed. Meaning Bane didn't screw with his looks nd shit too much yet and his parents do have some resemblance with current Gortash so yeah, that man has probably always been a carbon copy of Banes colours.

And funny bit actually, did you know Bane, yeah that Bane, is considered a saviour in some regions? A hero? Much like our lovely little tyrant is?

So anyway. I needed to get that off my chest. I wholeheartedly do not understand how anyone can look at Gortash and see anything regarding Lathander when he's the perfect hidden love child of Bane and Cyric and literally the only thing that could somewhat be associated with Lathander is the sun motif, but even so Enver Gortash is a false light, a dark sun and that's Cyric, not Lathander. That man is no hero, no matter what he says. He's using 'the good of the people' for his own selfish reasons and to justify whatever vile acts he may get called out on. A pretty standard thing not so nice people do btw.

And like. It's literally in his name, Enver = Luminous, Gürtaş = strong stone. His name translates to strong, Luminous stone. Yk those artificial glow in the dark stones. Artifical. Man made, like his robots. I want to scream-

Visual rep of what I just said:

[sinkingteethinwhitenoise]

Limoncello - Chapter 6

Pairings: Nick Folio x OFC, Bad Omens x OFC

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, cursing, one mini flashback, I didn't proof read half of this bc I hate myself, a stupid joke? or exchange??, like it's really fucking dumb i'm warning you.

Series Masterlist

“To get the full value of joy, you must have someone to divide it with.” ~ Mark Twain

Mountains of different shirts, shorts, pants, skirts, and dresses littered the floor in Maeve’s bedroom. She couldn’t even see the floor anymore. When Nick had told her that he found it hard to believe that she owned anything black, she hadn’t expected that the nail polish would actually be the only black thing she owned. She also hadn’t realized that she had this many clothes. She growled in frustration as she grabbed yet another colorful article of clothing. She looked over to her vanity where her phone was propped up against the mirror, her best friend’s bored face covering the screen as she watched Maeve through the ongoing facetime call. 

“Presley,” Maeve whined to her friend, striding towards the phone and picking it up as she anxiously ran her fingers through hair. “What do I do? I have nothing to wear to this gig.” 

Presley sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Your floor looks like the opening scene of Clueless. You have plenty to wear,” she started. “What exactly are you going for?”

“Like…A rockstar girlfriend type of look,” Maeve sounded unsure. “At least something that won’t make me stick out like a sore thumb.” 

Presley visibly held back laughter. “Babe, that’s so not you. You’re not going to find anything that fits the bill in your closet.” 

“Well what do I do? I can’t go buy anything,” Maeve whined. “I have to be ready in an hour.” 

Presley thought for a moment, “Do you still have those dark green corduroy shorts?” 

Maeve nodded and set the phone down to dig through the closet once more. She found them relatively quick and put them on to ensure that they still fit. They did. 

“Great,” Presley approved. “Now just style those how you’d usually style them. You’ll look gorgeous. If that boy likes you for you, he’ll think so too. Plus, it’s a dive bar. Don’t overthink it.”

Maeve felt her face heat up at the mention of Nick possibly liking her. She hoped he did, but she continuously convinced herself that he was just friendly. Presley had been rooting for them the moment Maeve told her about him on the day the band moved in across the street.

“Presley!” Maeve beamed once she answered the facetime call. “I have new neighbors! Across the street!”

“I’m assuming you already went over there?” Presley questioned, knowing her friend’s tendency to be hospitable. 

“I just got back from bringing them cookies,” Maeve confirmed. “It’s four guys. And! They’re a band. From what I can tell, they play pretty heavy stuff. Well, heavy for me at least.” Maeve rambled on with the biggest smile that Presley had seen from her in a long time. Maeve usually was one to get excited about meeting new people. But Presley could tell this was different. 

“How did it go?” Presley asked gently, trying to get more information about these neighbors and why they had her so excited. 

“It went really well! They’re all so kind! They loved the cookies,” Maeve giggled before she continued. “Oh! Their drummer is really cute.” 

Presley watched as Maeve’s face turned bright red. “Tell me more about this drummer.” 

“Well, his name is Nick. He seemed a little bit shy. But when we shook hands, neither of us let go when we definitely should’ve. I feel really stupid for that. It’s probably my fault,” Maeve’s smile faded a bit. “Oh my God, he probably thinks I’m so weird.”

Presley laughed and shook her head, “If he didn’t let go either, it’s probably fine.” Presley didn’t say anything then, but she knew that Maeve had a crush and that Nick probably had one too. 

Maeve dug through the clothes on the floor and in the closet looking for some very specific pieces. She grabbed a fitted, cropped white tank top, a thin brown belt, and some brown boots. After dressing herself completely she threw on a dainty, gold necklace and matching stud earrings. She backed up so she was in frame to show Presley. “This is cute right? I don’t think I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.” 

“Super cute. Super you.” Presley gave her a thumbs up. “I love it.”

“Cool,” Maeve nodded. “One more question. Bubble braids?”

“Oh, absolutely!”

After throwing her hair into bubble braids, doing some light, glowy makeup, and saying goodbye to Presley, Maeve grabbed her purse and made her way across the street. She smiled as she saw the garage door open the second she stepped into their driveway. ‘Perfect timing,’ she thought. 

Nicholas stepped outside first, his hair sitting messily in a bun on top of his head. He offered a tight lipped smile. “Hey Maeve. You’re still riding with us, right?”

“If that’s still okay with you guys, then yes,” she grinned as she approached him. 

“Well, you’ll be riding with Folio in the truck,” he explained. “And trust me, he’s more than okay with it.”

“Oh you guys take separate vehicles?” Maeve tilted her head to the side. 

Nicholas nodded, “Yeah. The drum kit takes up a lot of space, so we have to.”

The door leading into the garage opened and Nick emerged. He seemed to be on autopilot as he went straight over to the drum kit without even glancing in their direction. As he began to prepare it for loading, Nicholas leaned over to Maeve. “Watch this,” he whispered. He cleared his throat. “Hey, Folio.”

Without turning to look, Folio responded with a hum. 

Nicholas tried to hold back a smirk, “Maeve’s here. You’re not gonna say hi?”

Folio froze in his spot for a moment. His eyes widened as he finally turned around. His face had turned beet red in a matter of seconds. 

Maeve tried to hold back a laugh, “Yeah what’s up with that?” She played along. “You invited me and you’re not even gonna say hi?” He looked nervous, embarrassed and clearly didn’t know what to say. Maeve couldn’t hold in her laughter anymore as she walked over to him, “I’m just messing.” She placed her hand on his bicep and gave it a comforting squeeze. 

His face settled into a goofy grin as he looked down at her, “Very funny.” 

“Nicholas started it,” Maeve jutted her thumb to point behind her at Nicholas, who had a hand over his mouth still trying so hard not to burst out laughing. 

Folio rolled his eyes as he turned his focus to Nicholas. “Since this is so funny, why don’t you help me load this up?”

Maeve stepped to the side as Nicholas began to help Folio. Once they were far away enough from Maeve, Nicholas decided to tease him a little more. “You are so fucking down bad,” he mumbled to him with a shit eating grin on his face. 

“Shut the fuck up.”

With all the instruments and equipment loaded up, they all left for the bar. Maeve sat in the passenger’s seat of Nick’s old truck and tried not to stare too hard at his profile while he drove. Nick was trying to keep his eyes on the road. It was proving difficult with how pretty she looked and how nice she smelled, so he kept stealing little glances. 

He then realized how quiet it was. Even with the music playing from the radio, he still felt like there was an intense, awkward silence. He needed to say something. He didn’t want it to seem like he didn’t want her there. So, he began to talk about the first thing that came to mind. It just so happened to be a shower thought that he’d had earlier. “You know dog whistles?” he asked her.

Maeve furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at him. “Yeah…” she trailed off, confused. “What about them?”

“So, only dogs hear them, right?”

“I guess…yeah.” She had no idea where he was going with this, but she was curious enough to play into it. 

“Alright. Have you ever heard of a death whistle?” he questioned, seemingly changing the subject. 

“Like the Aztec ones?” Maeve asked. A smile began to form on her face at the strangeness of this conversation. 

“Exactly,” said Nick. “Do you think it’s the same? Like only dogs can hear dog whistles. Can only dead people hear death whistles?”

She bursted into a fit of laughter. “Definitely not,” she responded. “How would that even work? How do they hear it if they're dead?” 

Nick started to laugh along with her, “I don’t know! Maybe their souls have ears or something.” 

“That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard,” Maeve laughed, clearly amused. She lifted her hand to cover her mouth as she continued to laugh harder and harder the more she thought about the absurdity of the question. 

Nick looked over at her fully as he laughed at his own stupid question and her reaction to it. Then he noticed her nails. “Hey, did you paint your nails? They’re black.”

Through heaving breaths in an attempt to control her laughter, Maeve nodded. “Yeah, I painted them last night. Thought it could be fun for us to match.” 

Nick swore he felt his heart swell at the admission and he was rendered speechless for a moment. “Yeah,” he said softly, his own laughter long faded but a fond smile still present. “That’s sick.” 

[meyhew]

While I do think it would be great for celebrities to use their platform for Palestine, you have to admit it would be career suicide for many of them. Look at Scream actress Melissa Barrera. These people have worked hard to be where they are and they could lose a lot by being political.

frankly… i couldnt care less abt what they could or could not potentially lose. missing out on future career opportunities is not even anywhere close to people losing their lives forever. entire families being wiped out. yes it sucks that we live in a world where speaking up for justice and humanity means worrying about your livelihood but im not talking about working class ppl—many of whom are actively organizing and jeopardizing their lives and incomes btw. who CARES if chris hemsworth or zendaya don’t land new roles in the next five year or if taylor swift’s label drops her. every single one of these people have more money than they need, more money than anyone needs. and if they do get blacklisted so fucking badly that they never work again in their field… who cares! they can go back to school and get a degree. find a 9 to 5. stock shelves at the grocery store idc work like normal people. genuinely idk how many times and in how many different ways i have to say this but i dont care about how hard life could get for these people. who cares if a multimillionaire doesn't make more millions they won’t spend on anything real. they will be fine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but they value money and luxury over black and brown lives and that makes them shitty people. you cant convince me they have any integrity when they had to walk past a swarm of protestors and didn’t have the decency to look even marginally ashamed. students are putting their futures on the line and these mfs are worried they might not make another hit. like get real. sorry to sound like a cunt but these people have no problem “being political” when theyre telling the public to vote blue so idc they all suck and if u dont like acknowledging that then u suck too. and btw… a lot of people are more likely to support pro palestinian artists than not so they can shove that faux fear up their ass

[gunkreads]

WOW (breathe)

WOW (breathe)

WOW (breathe)

Look, I saw it coming from about the halfway point. It was written on the walls and floor, and even little hints on the ceiling sometimes. Fuck, dude, it's written on the cover of the damn book. (spoilers below) GO READ IT. HARD RECOMMEND.

But a perfectly-executed twist has values besides shock to carry it.

The beauty of the twist at the end of The Traitor Baru Cormorant is the steadiness with which Dickinson shifts the narration itself to make you question whether you could have ever believed Baru was really with the rebels. Around the midpoint of the Haraerod summit, Baru's internal monologue--i.e. the narration--begins to betray small hints that she's trying to re-distance herself from the Aurdwynni. From there on, Dickinson makes these

HANG ON I JUST LOOKED HIM UP, HE WAS A WRITER FOR

THE TAKEN FUCKING KING??????

okay we're back

AND FORSAKEN????????????? TAIN HU = SJUR EIDO CONFIRMED??????????

okay back for real.

makes these little "slip-up" hints appear constantly and with increasing frequency throughout the latter half of the story. By the time they're gathered before the battle, Baru is all but admitting to herself that she's trying to end the dukes. Dickinson plays with the fact that his writing is so deliciously tight and refined that any teeny little "misplaced" word sticks out like a gunshot in a church.

I love it, OK? I love when authors know how good they are and play chess games in which their own mastery is the piece that lands the checkmate.

But really, once I had a little chat about this book (thanks @pillowfriendly) and established that it wasn't meant to be a mind-bending political drama, I picked it up and blasted through the latter half. So it was also a teaching book! I now have a better idea of how to assess what a book is trying to be when I start it.

Also, what the hell is up with people comparing this series to The Locked Tomb? What's the similarity there? I'm asking because The Masquerade can be compared much more directly to another series that infected me with a nearly identical flavor of brainworm: Red Rising.

Like... come on, man. I could draw a Venn diagram of plot points between the first Red Rising book and The Traitor and you'd have to break out a microscope to find the places they don't overlap.

Probably ice fucking cold take: Seth Dickinson's first book is about two miles better than Pierce Brown's. Red Rising (the book) takes a HOT sec to get off the ground and is just so incredibly derivative in its structure that I have a hard time putting it up on the pedestal that Dickinson has just effortlessly launched himself atop. I love RR in a deep, unkillable type of way, but the first book isn't... all that. I'm not unpacking that shit right now.

Anyway, yeah... The Traitor Baru Cormorant is an all-timer for sure. Elicited a lot of soft "oh...."s from me, which is about twice as much as I ever ask for.

[vacantgodling]

#18. Karenza Hawkins

Blessed with a rare gift, the eyes on you have ever multiplied; with every achievement and every feat, your admirerers grow. As a dancer, you spin in their ring. You reach out to those in wonder, and you help those who are weary, and you offer kindness to even those who would look upon you in jealousy. It is a dance you dance alone, but you have supporters you hold dear—your friends who have ever encouraged you, and have built the stage so you can succeed. And with your calloused hands you reach for them; to pull them up, and to hold them near. It will take everything you have, and then more, but you have so much to give. And that’s the scary thing—that you can only give, and give, and give.

“karenza” means love. "hawkins" means “little hawk”

28, cis woman (she/her), romance: sure! she doesn’t really think about it too much, but she’d be flattered if someone asked her out. sex: sure! multiple partners is very fun for her. currently, she’s a sexual partner to her two closest friends moria and jagoda, and she loves how close she is with them regarding that. preference: none, anyone is great and the more the merrier!

if she’s anything, she’s all legs; standing at 5’11” and is quite lithe and bony (itty bitty titty committee yknow?). her hair is cut in an asymmetrical bob and is carrot orange, standing out against her deep brown skin. she has a smattering of freckles, but only across her nose, and her eyes are a big, watery green, with thick lashes. she’s honestly the embodiment of that uwu/pleading face and she has pretty, thick lips.

MEDIC. in fact, she’s the most naturally gifted medic in all of terrae; able to perform the spell (that she herself created and perfected) known as the phoenix ritual—which literally means within a certain amount of time removed from death, she can raise them back to full health. this is because karenza has a CRAZY excessive amount of sana; the most that has ever been recorded in a person—which is 80 percent sana and only 20 percent ars. this should render her unable to use magic (since 30% ars is the threshold), but her excess of sana literally is so potent it spills out of her. literally. y’know how every fucking disney movie or whatever has a scene where someone’s magic tears bring someone back to life, similar vibe. karenza can heal people just by touching them. why her sana is so potent is up in the air, and frequently researchers still study her because they just don’t understand her at all but she’s just accepted that for some reason, the gods blessed her and she spends much of her time using her abilities for good. she studied at the most prestigious academy for medics in terrae, silverkeep but kept in frequent contact/visitation with her friends back home in kingsburrow. after she graduates, she takes the guild exam and joins the AGoE with kiba, moira, jagoda, and eryn. 

karenza is a clumsy, head in the clouds type of person when it comes to anything outside of her medical expertise. she’s very cheery and tends to try and see the best in both everyone and in every situation she comes across. despite having a natural gift, she is very, very about that hard work life. she is practically an encyclopedia of medical knowledge and she doesn’t like people who don’t give everything their all if they have the ability to. she really admires all of her friends, and she’s both easily entertained and easily wowed. most likely to fall for a scam because she just believes people at face value and in that way is slightly naive. she just wants the best for everyone around her, a real sweetheart.

3 fun facts about them: she’s lefthanded and while this may not be much of a thing, most spells in spellbooks tend to be oriented for righthanded folks, so she’s started her own lefthanded spellbook for her own sake. despite her medical expertise, subortus isn’t something she’s the best at, but she studies every day to try and get better at it—she actually really admires clear for how skilled he is with it. she has very sharp hearing and can hear things from up to 10 miles away if they’re of a certain decibel range.

[the-arcana-headcanons]

Heyy!I had a tumblr break cuz uni and work have been eating me alive,so I am currently trying to work out my writer's block.To get in the mood,I would like to ask for your matchmaker abilities and choose smb out of the M6✨️🩷

Welp,I am a queer girl (not good on labels tbh😂),mediterannean skintone,light brown eyes and light brown hair with honey highlights (that's the best description I could give sorry hehe)

Naturally I am an ambivert.When I am in a good mood I can get really social and I love humor in conversations it literally fixes my day.Usually the energetic one in groups in which I feel comfortable but I also value serioussness and deep talks and in one to one relationships.Can yap endlessly about any topic,I think however that for some people,that can be too much.

I have been told to be the therapist friend🤠, however mental health struggles and lupus, my autoimmune disease (invisible illness team yayy) can get the better of me sometimes,so there are moments where I get more introverted and need sometime to cool off from overthinking.I have had huge trouble with social anxiety,but I have learned to deal with it.Its a struggle,but I have made huge progress and I keep trying

I hate arguements and when tensions go high.I believe that if two people really care about eachother,wether that be friends,family,or partners,everything can be solved with civilised dialogue and respect.As you can imagine,conflict is not my strong suit hehe

I study architecture,and for a hobby I do theater classes,and ballet.Home hobbies are sketching, and writing,wether that be fics about my fictional crushes👀👀 or lyrics to help me vocalize my issues.

Rock music is LITERALLY my long lost dream.

That's all,I hope I didn't come off as a narcissistic for writing so much about mee.

WAITING FOR YOUR WISDOM DEAR MATCHMAKER🤌

labels don't matter actually I just use them to know whether to match someone with the boys or the girls or both, but you said M6 so both it is

also don't feel bad for writing so much! the more people write in their requests the more detailed my matchups can be!

anyways, Julian!

Julian prefers to be in smaller groups, really preferably just the two of you, and he loves going back and forth between fun silly conversations and deep serious ones too. Julian would love your yapping, yap away, he's a very good listener. Although he does get a little spaced out sometimes just staring at you and thinking about how beautiful you are and how lucky he is and how he doesn't understand how he deserves you and then he has to awkwardly ask you to repeat yourself. Julian definitely is in need of a therapist friend sometimes but he also would be your biggest supporter when you aren't feeling as well. He'd let you take his bed in Mazlinka's little cabin and he's bring you special medicinal soup and give you lots of space to feel better. Or he'd stay and just cuddle or be there as a comforting presence if you wanted him to. Social anxiety isnt a problem for him, he's mastered the art pretending he's confident, so if you ever shut down socially he can handle it for you. He'd also be so supportive of helping you work on and improve it, it's like acting and he's great at that. He doesn't like conflict either, arguments and tension make him spiral and isolate himself, so he is not one to jump to causing tension. He may have a hard time communicating sometimes but he wants to and he tries to. He'd be so fascinated with your knowledge on architecture, whenever you'd be walking around he'd point out buildings and things and ask what you think about them. He also LOVES that you do theatre, he fucking adores theatre, he would love to take you to shows. He would encourage your sketching writing so much, he'd want to watch if you were okay with it, but he wouldn't mind if you weren't. He'd always be asking to look at your finished works too

[khaicrafts]

They lived in an age where life seemed picture perfect through the photos posted on social media. It was easy to get a little envious of his classmates posting their highlight reels while he was busying every brain cell he had to work on his projects in the lab; his true passions that made it seem like he was missing out on life.

Little did he know, life was really just beginning. There was nothing on Instagram or Snapchat that could compare to his new surroundings in the camp inhabited by creatures of myth. Finding out that he kind of was one too via his divine blood?

"This is so epic," he whispered. Knelt in front of the statue of Hephaestus, the chalice of liquid held in his hands. The substance that would trigger his latent powers. That's right. He was going to get POWERS and he didn't have to hey bitten by some insect or...well. He may as well had been an orphan...bit he lacked Bruce Wayne's inheritance. He had that brilliance though.

The choice was clear. Mostly. Every other second that passed, he wondered if he should really be giving up to be here after he worked so hard to build himself. Then again, why live in the world mundane when he could be divine....

"It's like an elixir...it's gonna build strength. It's going to level me up..." He mumbled to himself. Then, he quickly guzzled down the ambrosia. It seemed fine at first until the world around him began to fade. He fell back until he hit the bed he'd once slept on those years in his group home. That twinge of seeing the other kids always leaving or actually being adopted. That...didn't matter anymore? Why was he even here and thinking about that? He was an adult now and actually doing well. He had his education. He had the lab at school. Which...

He noticed something on fire outside the bedroom window. Across the way, the familiar large structure of one of the school's labs was up in flames. How could he see the school from his old bedroom? Each wad on completely different sides of the country...

"You're so chained to your accomplishments. You pride your work over your heart." A fiery facsimile of the professor who guided him on his path to tech school spoke to him with an even tone, but he could hear the underlying aggression. "What's all that work for when you don't have a fami-"

"I've seen the Princess and the Frog, Mam." Khai interjected as he squinted at the figure. "I know how you're going to steer this conversation. Just because I value my work doesn't mean I can't find value in people or welcome them into my life. On my terms, I either fuck with them or I don't, vice versa but my mind, will always be my crown to show off. " Khai retorted. His boldness only led to the sudden combustion of himself. His glasses, cardigan and dark hair burned away, revealing his muscular physique, ash blonde hair, and his brown eyes now burning fiery orange; literally molten.

"This is my fate right? I'll use my brilliance to help guide the course of history. With great power cones great responsibility, I know this! And, yo? I've just noticed..." he looks down at his unharmed yet burning physique. "THE FIRE DOESN'T BOTHER ME ANYWAY." He belted before feeling the heat only intensify until finally the whole room erupted...

Only hours later did the son of Hephaestus find himself waking up in the bed of his cabin. It felt like a horrible hangover. He coughed, smoke escaping from between his lips as he smirked lazily.

"I always knew I was kinda fire, but damn. Hold up, did I just go Super Saiyan!?" the thought pinged in his mind as he recalled the color change of his hair. He bolted up and tried to get to his feet, only to fumble and realize how exhausted he truly still was while he faceplanted into the floor of his room.

"Not Super Saiyan enough..."