#i think discussion is always good for learning

[nebulablakemurphy]

Capitol Loss

Summary: Set in the Moves & Countermoves Universe. Years after the rebellion, Y/N and Haymitch’s son is off to study in the Capitol, where he discovers the true cost of being a victor. Discussions of trauma and forced prostitution, proceed with caution.

“My name is Everest Abernathy, born and raised in the Victors’ Village of district twelve. Everyone says I look like my dad…I don’t really see it though.”

The joke lands as it always does, with genuine laughter and whispers. His classmates know he’s Haymitch’s son, even without the introduction. He doesn’t mind of course, he loves his dad, but people always kind of expect him to behave like his father too.

“Alright, fine.” Everest holds up his hands, “you caught me, I was born in the Capitol. But I was raised in Victors’ Village.”

Growing up, when the cameras would come, that was the gig. People would eat it up. And Everest would indulge them. It wasn’t until long after the rebellion that Everest had the freedom to discover who he was.

His parents, ever supportive, were more than willing to help their firstborn child pack up and board a train to a place that had never been kind to them. Because they love him that much. And that love is not lost on him.

When the professor asks him to stay after class, Everest is more than happy to. But he needs to make one thing clear.

“I don’t want any special treatment or anything. I’m here to learn. Panem is still rebuilding itself, I want to do my part.”

“Of course, my boy. I think it’s incredibly brave of you to be here. Away from your family for the very first time, driven by a sense of justice! Your parents must be so proud.”

“They would’ve been just as proud if I stayed in twelve to trade in the square.” His parents were always proud of him. As though he and his siblings were some sort of miracle, created by their love for each other. And they are still disgustingly in love. “But I think it’s our duty now, to make sure we continue moving forward and never back.”

The professor nods, “I do hope that our unit covering the lives of victors, leading up to the uprising, is a solid representation of all you endured during childhood.”

Endured? His childhood was a great many things, but by no stretch of the imagination was it something he had to ‘endure.’ Everest clears his throat, “I mean yeah, it was weird. Growing up with cameras in my face and a bunch of strangers in crazy outfits who would scream and burst into tears at the sight of me. But I think, my mom especially, would do little things to make sure that me and Arista were never scared. Not to say my dad didn’t, I think he was just trying to keep us alive, more or less.” He shrugs.

“It sounds like you have a very good head on your shoulders. After all, you are right around the age your mother was when she married your father.”

Everest’s jaw clenches, he knows his mother is younger than his father. Everyone does. “Love makes us do the darnedest things.”

“That was always interesting to me, the way trauma could create such strong affection.” The professor nods. “But I suppose between the arrangement of marriage to spare her from the Capitol, only to be forced to exploit themselves again and again…”

What?

“That would bond two people together in a way we’ll never be able to understand.”

Everest nods, skin crawling, imploring the man to continue.

It’s not until the professor presents his parent’s wedding portrait that the contents of Everest’s stomach empty themselves onto the floor. This image does not reside on the walls of his childhood home, where his father has them all hung proudly.

My mom, no older than I am now.

My mom, held so tightly to my father’s side it must have hurt.

My mom, smiling her best Capitol smile.

And my dad…protecting the only living person he loved.

————————————————————————

There is a knock at Everest’s door sometime later. Hours, maybe days. He can’t bring himself to answer it. “Go away!”

“No can do, I made a promise to your parents.”

Not Cashmere or Finnick, maybe he’s safe.

“Look, my parents made a lotta deals with a lotta people. You are not special, I promise.”

“Professor Smith said you asked him not to contact your parents. But as you’ve missed two straight days of class, I’m legally required to.”

Everest groans, rising to his feet and swinging open the door. “What do you want, Heavensbee?”

“To talk to you.” Plutarch explains. “Give you a chance to vent.”

“You’re Capitol, why do you care?” You let it happen.

“When I met your dad he was only a couple years younger than you are now.”

“And let me guess, I look just like him?” The boy scoffs.

“Yes and no,” Plutarch smiles. “I see your mom.”

“If you’re looking for an in, you won’t find one.”

“The first time I met Y/N, she told me she didn’t give a shit about winning the game, because she wanted to break the board.” Plutarch explains, “you’re a lot alike in that way.”

“Alright,” I’ll bite. Everest opens the door wide enough for the older man to enter, closing it behind them. “If you’re the expert, why don’t you explain what happened?”

“They couldn’t just let the boy who almost broke the board marry the girl who wanted to break it, and live happily ever after.” Plutarch lifts a shoulder, “Snow had to beat it out of them somehow.”

“How?”

“Started with Haymitch, took out his family, including his girlfriend back home, left him with nothing. He started drinking to cope.”

“I know that.” Everest swallows.

“During Y/N’s post games interview she suggested that the hunger games were unnecessary and should stop.”

“I know that too.”

“Haymitch made a deal with President Snow to keep the same thing from happening to Y/N. Did you know that?” Plutarch arches a brow.

“What kind of deal?” Everest demands.

“Some of the victors would be sold to higher ups in the Capitol. Haymitch agreed, in exchange for your mother’s safety and her family’s.”

“Why did he have to marry her?” That’s the part that doesn’t make sense.

“As you said, your parents made a lot of deals, this one protected her from being sold directly to anyone. Marriage between victors is relatively uncommon, there was curiosity. I have no idea the exact numbers, but I do know that their footage was the highest grossing victor profit ever made.”

“How many victors did he sell?”

“Again, I don’t know the exact number. That was far from my department; but to answer your question, too many.”

Again, his stomach churns. “So me and Arista were just accidents?”

“Have you ever heard the idle hands theory?”

“What the fuck is that?” Everest demands, pacing in the space between his bed and desk.

“Easy,” Plutarch holds up his hands, “if this is too much for you-”

“Sorry,” Everest runs a hand over his face, “I’m sorry.” To go from knowing nothing, to knowing everything... “Please, continue.”

“A child would occupy their time and their minds. Serve as a means to make them more complicit. You were their pride and joy. You were the Capitol’s too.”

Everest sucks in a breath.

“You got a little older, idle hands need filling.”

“Arista.” Everest whispers.

“A ‘little Y/N’ to solve all of Snow’s problems.” Plutarch smirks, ���if I didn’t know any better I’d think he was…content with your parents, for a time.”

“Why Daisy?” Their hands were full.

Plutarch hangs his head. “You were ten, going on eleven. Close to reaping age and there was a Quarter Quell right around the corner, pair that with Peeta and Katniss’ stunt with the berries and-”

“They were gonna run.” It makes sense, in all its horrible entirety.

“Everyone knew it. Especially Snow.” Plutarch confirms. “Fastest way to ground a flight risk is to cut their wings.”

Is that why my dad calls her an angel?

“That’s the hard stuff and the most important.” Plutarch assures him, “I don’t expect us to be friends now, Everest. But if you’re going to learn the truth about your parent’s lives here, I’d rather it be from someone who cares about them. Not some stranger who knows them as pages in a book.”

“Are you gonna tell them?” Everest wonders, “my parents?”

“No,” Plutarch shakes his head, “that’s your conversation to have not mine.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to take anything else from you.” The Abernathys have given enough.

————————————————————————

Weeks pass and while Everest hasn’t been accepting any calls, there is one person he doesn’t have the heart to ignore.

He hits the button, sluggishly. “Hey, Arista.”

“Hey, how are you?”

“I’m good.” Everest lies.

“Hang on, let me get mom and dad.”

“Arista, wait.” Everest protests, “how are they?”

“Mom and dad?” Arista lifts a brow, “they’re mom and dad.”

“Dad’s feeling better?”

“Yeah.” The girl whispers, “his liver’s pretty beat up though. They’re discussing options with a doctor in the Capitol, but don’t tell them I told you that.”

“They told you and not me?” Everest scoffs.

“They didn’t tell me anything, you know how they are.” Arista says, “I overheard them talking about leaving us with Aunt Madge for a couple weeks for the treatment.”

“How are Daisy and Auggie?”

“August has been giving everyone a run for their money, now that Daisy’s mellowed out.”

“That’s good.”

“You sound upset.” Arista sighs.

“It’s just….school’s been a lot.”

“Come home then, loser.” Arista laughs, “we miss you.”

Does he want to go home? Can he? “First semester ends in a week, I’ll come home for break.”

“Cool,” Arista smiles, “see you soon.”

“Tell everyone I said hi and that I love them.”

“Will do.”

“Love you, Arista.”

“Love you too.” Arista ends the call, flopping back into the couch and glaring up at the ceiling.

Everest is the only one of her siblings to understand what it was to be doted on by the Capitol, like a prized show horse. He never lies to her, never hides anything from her. If he’s lying now…it must be something awful.

“Who was that?” Y/N asks, popping her head around the corner.

“Just Everest,” Arista huffs. “He’s coming home for semester break.”

Y/N nods, “that’s great.”

“I think he must be homesick or something. But he said hi and that he loves you.”

At this her mother smiles, “do you want to help with dinner? We’re making a roast.”

“I guess.” Arista pulls herself to her feet. “Give me a minute to wash up.”

Haymitch clicks his tongue at her. “Don’t tell me you’re turning into a teenager.”

“I’ve been a teenager, Dad.”

Haymitch clutches his heart, “she stabbed me.”

Y/N chuckles, pressing her lips to his. “You’ll live.”

Arista rolls her eyes. “Stop making out or I won’t help you.”

————————————————————————

When Cashmere gets a call from Plutarch, who she hasn’t spoken to in years, she knows that something is amiss. She’s right of course. One of Everest’s teachers ran his mouth about the Capitol’s deep dark secret. Their love of exploiting victors.

“Did you call his parents?” Cashmere exhales.

“He’s asked us not to.”

“Well,” Cashmere hesitates. “Have you seen him? How upset is he?”

“He’s holed up in his room, attending classes remotely.” Plutarch tells her. “I was able to speak with him, but he doesn’t trust me. He needs someone he trusts.”

“Yeah, alright. I’m on it.” Cashmere ends the call, to get reinforcements on the line.

“Hello?” Finnick answers first.

“Hello?” Johanna a second later.

“It’s Cashmere, I need you both on the next train to the Capitol.”

“What’s going on?”

“Everest knows about…what Snow did to us.”

“No.” Finnick breathes, “he knows about Haymitch and Y/N?”

“Yep. I can’t do any sort of damage control, he’s not answering my calls.”

“Alright, let me get dressed and tell Annie. Then I’m out the door.” Finnick says.

“So the plan is to do what exactly? Just show up at his door, give him a pat on the back and say ‘I’m sorry your parents were forced to make porn and have you, that must feel awful. How’d you like to hear what happened to the rest of us?’ Yeah, I can see that going over really well.”

“Johanna,” Finnick sighs.

“You’re right, forget it. Don’t come.” Cashmere decides.

“I’m already halfway out the door, blondie.” Johanna bites back. “I was just hoping to establish a game plan. Poor kid just lost the illusion of his perfect life, and if we don’t tell Y/N she will kill us.”

“Then she’ll have to kill us,” Finnick decides. “She put us on call for Everest while he’s in the Capitol, Plutarch says he’s not ready to talk to Y/N. It’s not our position to pry or overshare. It’s not our position to even tell her.”

“Or Haymitch.” Cashmere tacks on, in case Johanna was planning to be sneaky.

“All I’m saying is…if it were me, I’d want my mom and dad. Not a bunch of other people.”

“We’re family, Johanna.” Finnick reminds her, “when something like this happens, you want your family.”

Johanna bites her tongue, they are her family. The people who took her in and loved her, while she clawed and bit at their outstretched hands. “I still think someone should tell her.” But…not my circus, not my monkeys.

[just-aake]

Everlasting Devotion - Part XIV

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel of Boundless Devotion Series. MedievalAU. With her coronation over, Natasha is now the queen of the Romanov Kingdom. However, the position comes with challenges from both old and new enemies as Natasha tries to maintain the peace while also navigating her relationship with you.

Masterlist Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Warnings: light angst, light fluff

Words: 1668

The room is shrouded in silence, tension thick as smoke in the aftermath of the Carter princess’ announcement.

No one moves.

Natasha stands at the center of it all, regal in posture but visibly rigid. Her expression is unreadable to anyone unfamiliar, but her clenched fists at her sides betray the slow boil of fury just beneath the surface.

Sharon smooths the front of her dress almost casually, though there’s a slightly uncomfortable air to her action. Her eyes flicker between the queen and the rest of the royal family.

“It is late,” Sharon says smoothly, her voice calm. “And from your reaction, I can see this may have been…unexpected. We can always discuss the finer details of the arrangement another day.”

Melina exhales, obviously relieved for the excuse to postpone the discussion.

“Yes, I think that’s best,” she agrees quickly, stepping forward with a graceful tilt of her head. “Princess Sharon, I’ll have one of the attendants prepare a guest suite for you tonight.”

With a polite nod, Sharon allows herself to be guided away, her heels clicking softly against the stone as she exits. The door closes behind her with a faint but resounding finality.

The room falls into silence again. This time is heavier, laced with a slow-burning fury.

Natasha doesn’t speak for several seconds. Her gaze remains fixed ahead, unblinking. The anger within her bubbling steadily to the surface until she could no longer hold it inside.

“What the hell?!” Her voice slices through the room like a whip, sharp and commanding.

“Language, Natasha,” Yelena drawls from where she lounges against the back of the chair, her tone mockingly parental in a similar tone their mother would use.

Natasha ignores her, head snapping toward Melina, eyes blazing. 

“I thought I told you not to get involved in my relationships anymore.”

Melina’s spine stiffens at the accusation, but her voice remains composed as she responds. 

“This wasn’t me. I only learned about the contract tonight, when Sharon approached me during the celebration.”

Natasha narrows her eyes. 

“If you didn’t do this, then who?”

Melina sighs and lifts a hand to rub her temples, then glances pointedly to the side—toward the hearth.

Natasha follows her gaze.

There, hunched near the fireplace, her father pokes at the embers with far too much focus, his back partially turned like the flames might offer him sanctuary from his daughter’s wrath.

“Really?” Natasha’s voice drops, low and cold. “Are you seriously pretending to stoke a fire right now?”

Alexei’s body visibly jumps. Realizing all eyes are on him, he clears his throat loudly. 

“I think the room’s getting a bit chilly, don’t you think? Might be time to get some more logs—”

He stands abruptly and moves toward the door, only for Natasha to step into his path, arms folding tightly across her chest.

“Explain. Now.”

He glances toward Melina for help, but none comes.

With a defeated sigh, Alexei finally meets her eyes—briefly. 

“Alright, alright,” he mumbles, shifting uncomfortably. “It was…during my last visit to the Carter Kingdom. The queen, uh, she had mentioned she was looking for a suitable match for her niece, and, well, your mother had said that if you hadn’t chosen a partner by your coronation, then we would choose one for you…so I thought perhaps preparing some options beforehand would be good.”

Natasha’s lips part in disbelief. 

“Options? You call arranging an engagement contract an option? Why did you never mention this before now?”

“Well, there was that ambush on the way back,” Alexei mumbles, twiddling with his thumbs. “And with everything that happened after, it sort of…slipped my mind.”

“Oh, well, that makes everything okay,” Natasha snaps, sarcasm thick in her voice. “Except—I did choose someone as my partner by the time of my coronation.”

Alexei raises his hands as if to block from his daughter’s wrath.

“Yes, well—that’s why I made sure there was a contingency in place,” he says hastily. “If you couldn’t fulfill the contract, then…Yelena would.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence.

“What?!” Yelena shoots to her feet, outraged. “Me? You volunteered me like some kind of backup prize?!”

Alexei turns to his other daughter, his hands still up in defense. 

“I thought I was doing what was best for the kingdom!”

An exasperated sigh comes from Melina behind her while Natasha presses her fingers to her temple, dragging them down her face in disbelief.

“So let me get this straight. You promised both your daughters to another kingdom—without telling either of us—and you thought that was somehow a good idea?”

Alexei holds up a finger. 

“Technically, I only promised one at a time.”

“Alexei,” Melina warns sharply, eyes narrowing.

“What? You have to admit this is a good opportunity. Natasha’s single now anyway,” he mutters.

Silence.

Yelena gapes at him.

Melina closes her eyes with a pained breath.

Natasha lifts her gaze slowly, and the full fury of a queen and daughter simmers in her expression.

Alexei blinks, confused, until he catches the identical looks from the three women in the room. It finally dawns on him.

“That is…unless you are not…actually.” He winces. “Right. That…explains the tension.”

Yelena scoffs. 

“Wow. Father of the year.”

Natasha drowns out the following words of her father’s attempt to appease Yelena and Melina. 

Her hands drop to her sides, no longer clenched in anger. Her eyes, though, remain sharp and faraway, fixed not on her father but somewhere beyond the walls of this room.

Somewhere softer. Warmer.

She sees you.

Or rather, she remembers you—just hours ago, tangled in silk sheets and the hush of moonlight, your breath warm against her skin. The weight of your body folded into hers, every touch reverent but unhesitant, as if you’d both finally crossed a threshold neither of you wanted to leave. 

Your scent still clings faintly to her skin beneath the perfume and ceremony. Your voice, soft and teasing against her ear, still echoes somewhere in the corners of her mind.

The way you looked at her after—that glow in your eyes, like she wasn’t just your queen, but your choice—your future.

That memory stabs deeper than any betrayal in this room.

Because now it’s not just about her future.

It’s about yours.

And it’s about Yelena’s.

Her jaw tenses as she feels the walls start to shift inwards. It's no longer a question of how to respond properly as a ruler but...of who she’s willing to sacrifice.

A chair creaks behind her, the silence too long between her words. 

“Nat.”

Her sister’s voice pulls Natasha halfway back into the room.

Yelena’s voice isn’t teasing anymore. There’s no sarcasm in her expression, just quiet concern, the kind that only someone who truly knows her can wear so effortlessly.

“What do we do?”

Natasha exhales a slow and tired breath, her shoulders heavy.

“I don’t know,” she murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The corridor is silent, except for the soft hush of the wind weaving through the palace arches. Night still blankets the kingdom, moonlight spilling in gentle waves across the stone floor as Natasha stands just outside her chamber door.

She doesn’t move for a long while.

Her hand rests against the carved wood, fingertips brushing the handle but never quite gripping it. 

The weight of everything presses in on her—her position, her responsibilities, her family’s choices…the impossible decision looming in her mind.

And you, just on the other side of this door.

She draws in a slow breath, centering herself.

Then, finally, she pushes the door open.

The scent of warmth and soft linen greets her. The room is dim, lit only by the glow of the moon pouring through the tall windows, and there you are.

No longer asleep.

You’re standing at the window, wrapped in nothing but one of her robes, the fabric hanging loosely around your form. The light kisses along your cheek, the line of your shoulder, casting you in a glow that nearly brings her to her knees.

You turn toward her, and the moment your eyes meet, your smile blooms—soft, gentle, and unguarded.

That smile breaks her heart.

“Hey,” you say quietly, voice still laced with sleep. “Where’d you go?”

Natasha swallows the lump forming in her throat and answers with as much calm as she can muster. 

“Family meeting.”

You nod, understanding flickering in your gaze, and step closer. You don’t press. You never do when you sense her walls are up. 

Your arms slide around her waist, pulling her into a hug as you lean in, resting your head against her shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like you’ve always done for many years before.

And for a second, Natasha doesn’t move, her heart heavy in her chest.

Then, slowly, her arms come up around you, pulling you in tighter, holding you like she’s trying to memorize the shape of you against her body. She buries her face into your hair, eyes fluttering shut.

There’s a silence between you, soft and safe.

But you feel the tension in her. The way her muscles are drawn taut, the way her breath is steady but not relaxed.

You murmur into her skin, “Everything okay?”

The question lingers in the air.

Natasha falters.

She should tell you. She should say something—about the contract, about the impossible choice. 

About how by tomorrow, the entire kingdom will know what she didn’t have the courage to tell you tonight.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she tightens her arms around you, anchoring herself in your presence, and whispers, “You’ll stay by my side, right?”

You pull back just enough to look into her eyes, your expression sincere and unwavering.

“Always, Natasha.”

Something shatters in her chest.

Unable to hold your gaze any longer, Natasha presses her lips to yours, a silent kiss, soft and lingering.

I’m sorry.

She doesn’t say it aloud.

She can’t.

So she holds you instead, soaking in your warmth, knowing that by tomorrow, nothing will be the same.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

a/n: Thank you for reading! Sorry for the wait and for a short chapter, but I decided to just post it instead of overthinking it.

If you asked to be tagged and I missed it, please let me know again.

Taglist : @midastouch013, @2silverchain, @dvrkhcld, @observeowl, @x-drowned-x, @fireandblood-3, @natsxwife, @leequifey, @blacklightsposts, @srt-sah, @scar-letwidow, @likefirenrain, @autorasexy, @natsbiggestfan1, @lex13cm, @iheartjohansson, @tofu9162, @unexpected-character, @natashasilverfox, @acciowriting, @qtreesfanstuff, @mrsrushman, @inarayofmoonlight, @viosblog112, @inarayofmoonlight, @maximoff-jp, @natashasilverfox, @hellenheaven, @hotcocoandonuts, @alwaysgoodnight, @cactuslover2600, @nebthetautora, @mousetheorist, @dyslexic-dreamer, @canvascoloredin

[imsogonesposts]

My Knight in Shining Armor: Chapter One: A Tragic Love Story

|| ao3 || my knight in shining armor series masterlist || steve masterlist || requests are open!! ||

summary: Steve yearns for the girl he can never have as he learns she needs to find a suitor soon.(wc: 2718)

tags/warnings (for the series as a whole): knight! steve harrington x princess! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slow burn(ish), mention of arranged marriages (not to steve), he fell first AND harder, happy ending i pinky promise

|| next chapter ||

You had known Steve for as long as you could remember. In all of your earliest childhood memories, he was always there. From playing pirates in the castle garden to pouring over the many different books in the vast, large library, it seemed like almost every memory of your childhood had Steve attached to it in one way or another. 

Your favorite memory had to be when you were thirteen, and he was fourteen. Both your fathers had pulled you aside to have an “important discussion.” Really, it was only to tell you that when you both got older, Steve would be assigned as your personal guard, hired to follow you around and protect you should worse come to worse. You both understood it as getting more time to spend with your best friend. 

Steve had begun training with his father, the Captain of the Guard, shortly after, and by the time you were sixteen and he was seventeen, he became your personal guard, following you around the castle as he usually did, except now with the purpose of protecting you. From what, you weren’t sure, the biggest threat you’ve ever really faced was tripping over one of your gowns, but nonetheless, you were happy to have your best friend by your side. 

“Do you ever get bored of always following me around,” you had asked him one day as he accompanied you to the Royal Court where your father had been waiting for you to begin a meeting. 

Steve only scoffed. “Do I ever get bored of getting to hang out with my best friend, let me think about that for a second,” he paused, truly letting himself process the question before shooting you a charming smile. “No, I don’t get sick of hanging out with my best friend, but thank you for the concern.”

Truthfully, Steve could never get bored of hanging out with you. Even if it was only to follow you around as you did the most mundane things like get a glass of water or sign off on a new treaty. As long as he was with you, he couldn’t help but have the best time. There was truly no other place he’d rather be, than in the company of the girl he’d known since childhood, the girl who’d seen him through his best and his worst, the girl he’d slowly started to fall for. 

“I’m just saying,” you replied with a smile, “you could be out training the new guards, or going out on actual missions and patrols instead of following me around.”

He couldn’t help but smile back. “I assure you, princess, I quite enjoy my time spent with you,” he whispered as he opened the door leading to the Royal Court. He followed you as you made your way through the  corridor, “besides, I do help train the new guards, I’m supposed to be the next Captain of the Guard when my dad retires, remember?”

You shook your head with a smile, “I know, I know,” you started with a laugh, “but there’s so much more to all these walls, you should get to experience it all.”

Steve only leaned closer to you, softly whispering “so should you,” before a voice clearing their throat interrupted the two of you. You both glanced your heads to the side, towards the mysterious voice, only to be met with your father, the king. 

Steve quickly moved away from you before sending a quick bow towards you and your father, giving your arm a small, quick squeeze of good luck before making his way back out the hallway, waiting to escort you to wherever you chose once the meeting was over. It wasn’t very formal of him, squeezing your arm like he did, but the two of you had abandoned formalities with one another long ago, one of the many consequences of being best friends with someone for so long. 

Your father cleared his throat again, signaling for your attention. 

“So,” he began when you finally looked his way, “you will be turning eighteen soon, do you know what that means?”

There were a lot of things that turning eighteen meant in the royal castle. More responsibilities, more paperwork, more homework, more time learning how to be queen and run the Kingdom of Hawkins.

Your father quickly interrupted your train of thought. “It means, we need to begin finding you a suitable suitor,” he tells you. 

Oh, that’s right. Most days, you liked to pretend that being forced into an arranged marriage wasn’t part of the deal that came with being a princess. That you could go off and marry whoever you liked, no matter who they were, no matter their ranking or the amount of power they had. That, in another life, you could maybe even be married to someone like Steve.

“Do I really need to marry some prince I’ve never met before?” You asked your father with a sigh. He only shook his head no.

“No, my child,” he replied with a laugh. “There will be a ball for you to meet all the suitable princes and you can make your pick there. That is how I met your mother, you know,” he added with a wink. 

You could only force a smile onto your face at his words. Truthfully, there was nothing you would rather do less than be forced to host a ball as you talked, danced, and met a handful of princes you’d never seen in your life before. But it was part of your responsibility as a princess, no matter how much you hated that part of your title. 

***

You had told Steve to pick you up an hour after the meeting so he could walk you back to your quarters. And an hour later, there he was, pacing back and forth outside the door leading to the Royal Court as he waited for your meeting to be over as you finally made your way out. 

He greeted you with a smile that quickly turned into a frown as he saw your upset features. Your too-tight smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, your fidgeting hands. “What’s wrong?” He asked as you sighed. 

You shake your head with that still-too-tight smile. “Nothing,” you say with a shrug, beginning the walk back to your room with Steve by your side. “Just a boring meeting is all.”

Steve’s frown only deepens at that. “While that doesn’t surprise me, you don’t look bored. You look more… sad if anything.”

You sigh, relenting. After knowing someone for practically your whole life, it’s hard to not notice every little thing about them, you suppose, such as when they were upset. “They want me to start picking a suitor,” you tell him softly, eyes trained on the floor. 

“Oh,” he whispered out. 

That causes the smallest smile to crack through your features. “Oh,” you repeat, glancing up to look at your friend through a sad smile. 

Steve isn’t sure of what to say to that. Deep down, he always knew that he would never get a real chance with you. Hewas a knight, and you were the crowned princess. It just wasn’t plausible. You were destined to marry some rich,douchebag prince as he stood on the sidelines, wishing nothing more than for the man you were marrying to be him. 

“Maybe you’ll find someone nice,” he offers solemnly. 

You can't help but glare at him. “Maybe I’ll find someone who tries to steal the throne from me,” you retort with a sigh. 

“You deserve better, you know,” he quietly replies. 

You only frown. “I think so too,” you admit just as quietly, “but I don’t have much of a choice, now do I?”

“So you want to marry a man who doesn’t love you?” He questions. Not angry, not accusatory, not even hurt. Justconfused.

“Of course I don’t want that,” you reply with yet another glare. “But not all of us are lucky enough to marry for love, Steve.”

Steve knows that feeling all too well, because, at the end of the day, he knows he’ll never get to marry the girl he truly loves with all his heart and all his being. She wasn’t meant for him, it was never written in the stars for him, for them.

“You deserve to be loved, princess” is all he can reply. 

You only smile at his words. “Thank you for being so passionate about my love life, Steve.”

He smiles back easily, an almost boyish smile. “It’s my job to worry about you. Your well-being, your safety, your love life, etcetera, etcetera,” he claims with an exaggerated wave of his arms. 

You can only laugh at his words as you quickly take his hand in yours, leaving no time for any objections or questions as pull him to the palace garden. 

***

When you were six and Steve was seven, he had asked you to marry him. The two of you had been feeding the geese in the garden lake together when the idea had first struck him. 

“Let’s get married!” A seven-year-old Steve exclaimed a little too loudly, causing some of the geese to jump back from startlement. 

“What?!” You exclaimed back with a giggle before Steve nodded his head in enthusiasm. 

“I know you’re supposed to get married when you love someone,” he explained with a wide grin, “and I love you, so let’sget married!”

And in your mind, nothing made more sense than to marry your best friend whom you loved. And so, you nodded along to his request with a grin so wide, it practically mirrored his. 

“Okay!” You exclaimed, taking his hand in yours, geese long forgotten about, “I love you, let’s get married!”

The two of you invited your other friends who lived in the castle along with you: Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, and Jonathan Byers, all the children of different maids in the castle, as well as Eddie Munson, the nephew of a butler who came to visit you and your friends frequently. Nancy had officiated the wedding later that day at the very same spot Steve had proposed the idea, and when the time came, you kissed Steve’s cheek, giggling at the shade of pink his face quickly turned into. 

You still had the blade of grass Jonathan had crafted into a ring for the both of you sitting on your vanity. 

***

The two of you were sitting in front of the lake in the palace garden, feeding the geese and ducks that lived there. Yourdress would likely get stained from the grass later, but you couldn’t really find it within yourself to care. Not when the sounds of the trees rustling and the birds chirping brought nothing but peace to you. 

Despite himself, Steve couldn’t help but to stare at you as you lay the animal’s grains of food down on the grass a few feet away from you. He couldn’t help but smile as the ducks and geese all waddled up to you, all so trusting of you, of your gentleness. The sun was shining down on you now, and Steve couldn’t help but wonder how you could be real. Howsomeone so kind and sweet and gorgeous and angelic could exist. 

“Our anniversary is coming up soon,” Steve quietly announces, breaking the tranquil sound of silence that had previously filled the garden. It wasn’t a real anniversary to celebrate your love for one another, though Steve wishes it was. Instead, it was the anniversary of when the two of you had gotten “married” as kids. When he wanted nothing more than to marry his best friend, and he still did want that. 

You didn’t seem to mind his interruption, though, instead only plucking a daisy off the grass and handing it to him with a smile. “Happy anniversary,” you reply as he takes the daisy with a laugh. 

Steve looks down at the flower with a smile, twirling it along his pinched thumb and index finger. “Happy anniversary, princess,” he repeats, tucking the daisy in between your hair and the top of your ear, his fingers gently trailing along your jaw before dropping his hand. His touch always lingering a little longer than it probably should. A little too longer than is probably deemed appropriate.  Because as much as Steve wished he could live a life with you, he knew in the end it could never happen. A knight and a princess could never be together, but he couldn’t help but get as many stolen moments as he could. Because he’d rather have you like this, his best friend who he could never be with, but always have a few stolen glances, stolen moments with, than to not have you in his life at all. That would be true torture. 

Steve sighed as he glanced around the garden, looking for any potential dangers to clear his head. He was supposed to always be on guard, always on high alert, but when his gaze fell on you once again, he couldn’t help but soften the slightest bit. It was as if you had some magical power over him, and he couldn’t find it within himself to mind. 

“You know, you don’t always have to be so stiff and stoic. Nothing’s going to happen in the garden,” you softly tell himas you pluck a blade of grass off the ground. 

Steve only smiles. “My job is to protect you, you know. Getting to hang out with you is only a perk of the job.”

You smile at his words, the smallest flutter of something, you’re not sure what, hitting your stomach. 

“You can protect me and have fun with me,” you reply as you toss the piece of grass towards him, though the wind quickly drifts it away from the two of you as it gently falls onto one of the geese. 

“I’m always having fun with you, princess,” Steve teases, reaching a hand up to gently tug on a piece of your hair as you gaze at the animals in front of you. 

You only roll your eyes at his actions, swatting his hand away as you mockingly stick your tongue out at him. 

Steve feigns a gasp, saying your name as if you’ve committed treason against the royal family. “That is very un-lady like of you,” he scolds, fighting the smile that threatens to creep up his face. 

Your only response is to splash some water from the lake onto him, causing a laugh to escape the knight and some of thebirds to retreat to a different part of the garden. 

“My hair!” Steve exclaims, hands reaching up to the top of his head as if you had just shaved it off him. 

“And they call me dramatic,” you say through a laugh. Steve only huffs, pretending to look unamused, but clearly failing. 

“You’re lucky my job is to protect you,” he mumbles through feigned annoyance. 

You shrug with a smile, “aw, I love you too, my dear husband,” you reply with a laugh. 

Steve knows you only mean that word, husband, due to your childhood “marriage,” but for a second, just a second, he lets himself envision what a life with you would be like. A marriage with you, a happily ever after with you. He can't help but dream of a life he knows he’ll never be able to have. A life with you, the two of you in love, happy, in each other’s arms, waking up next to each other every morning, you falling asleep in his arms every night. He wishes more than anything that he could have that with you.

Maybe in another life, in a life where you weren’t a princess, and he wasn’t a knight. A life where you lived in a small town, where you were getting an education as he worked a different job. 

All he could do was dream. 

He sighed with a roll of his eyes and the hint of a smile tugging his face at the thought of being married to you. What a life he would get to live. “Yes, yes, I do love you, my wretched wife.” 

The hidden smile finally graces his lips as you gasp in feigned hurt and horror at ever being called the word “wretched.” 

[theothin]

I'm always glad to get earnest questions!

To start, I'd recommend checking out this trio of articles on the topics of the copyright and energy concerns:

Unlike most people earnestly making the learning rights argument, proposals to expand copyright often don’t limit the proposed expansion in a human-reasonable way. This makes sense, since they’re focused on making progress in one specific direction. So just to establish a ground rule for discussion: in the reasonable argument I’m seeing reasonable people make, regardless of how we treat AI, people learning from art is a good thing. In a good-faith discussion, I’m assuming your goal is to defend against AI, not sabotage existing human artists. The right for people to learn from anything they’re allowed to see is crucial, for what should be obvious reasons. People have an inalienable right to think. Human creativity involves creating new ideas drawing from a lived experience of ideas, designs, and practice. Influences influence people, and those people create new artistic work using their own skill and knowledge of the craft, which they own themselves. We shouldn’t need a special license for works we see to influence the way we think about the world, or to use published work to inform our knowledge of creative craft. If humans were somehow required to have an explicit license to learn from work, it would be the end of individual creativity as we know it. In our real world, requiring licensing for every source of inspiration and skill would collapse artistic work down to a miserable chain-of-custody system that only massive established corporations could effectively participate in. That, and/or some kind of dystopian Black Mirror affair, where the human mind is technologically incapable of ingesting new information unless it comes with the requisite DRM. People have the rights to own and use their own skills and abilities by default, unless there’s a very specific reason barring them from a particular practice. You have every right to learn multiple styles and even imitate other artists, for instance. But you don’t have the right to use that skill to counterfeit, forge, copy, or otherwise plagiarize someone else, because that action is specifically harmful and prohibited. This is all very straightforward.

Training an AI involves processing large volumes of creative material. In the standard scenario where the entity training the model has the right to view that work but no particular license to copy it, is the act of training a copyright violation? The vital question this hinges on is this: is the actual act of training an AI equivalent to copying, or is it more comparable to viewing and analysis? Are companies training on work copying that work (which they do not have the right to do) or reviewing the work (which they do)? If training is copying, then training on this data would be a copyright violation. If not, we’ll have to dig deeper to find a reason model training on unlicensed material could be illegal. I think the unambiguous answer to this question is that the act of training is viewing and analysis, not copying. There is no particular copy of the work (or any copyrightable elements) stored in the model. While some models are capable of producing work similar to their inputs, this isn’t their intended function, and that ability is instead an effect of their general utility. Models use input work as the subject of analysis, but they only “keep” the understanding created, not the original work.

For this article, I’m going to try to measure energy in kilowatt-hours (kWh) and watt-hours (Wh). One kilowatt-hour is the energy output of 1 kilowatt of power applied for 1 hour. (Energy (kWh) is power (kW) × time (h).) And the single watt-hour (Wh) is 1/1000 of a kWh. The other scale that comes up when talking about very large aggregates is the terrawatt-hour (TWh), which is one billion kWh. To give you an idea of how much energy that really is here are some points of reference, in ascending order: My phone’s battery capacity is ~0.010 kWh (10.45 Wh). Yours is probably closer to 0.015 kWh (15 Wh). (Phones have to be really energy-efficient!) My laptop runs at 0.03 kW, or 0.03 kWh per hour. Elevators run at 6kW, meaning they consume 0.1 kWh per minute of operation. Commercial GPUs can draw a maximum of 180 W to 350 W, which equals 0.18 kWh to 0.35 kWh per hour. PC gaming was estimated in a 2018 study to consume 75 TWh per year. Watching one hour of Netflix consumes 0.08 kWh to 0.8 kWh, depending on the scenario. Standard central air conditioning systems consume between 0.50 kWh and 3.75 kWh per hour. The energy produced from burning 1 gallon of gasoline is approximately 36 kWh. (At 30 MPG, this is 0.84 miles per kWh.) The average U.S. household consumes about 10,500 kWh of electricity per year, or 28.8 kWh per day. Running an electronic billboard for one day consumes ~450 kWh. Manufacturing an average (1,481 kg) vehicle consumes 17,200 kWh

Google’s published estimates indicate that 3 Wh is also the energy cost of each interaction with their LLMs. But the costs of image generation are higher. Luccioni et al. (in the table above) found that among generation operations, text generation is less expensive than image generation (0.047 vs. 2.9 Wh). The most popular generative image model that can be run on consumer GPUs is Stable Diffusion. Benchmarking with codecarbon, with 20 samples, Stable Diffusion 1.5 takes ~0.09 Wh per image. Images from diffusion models can reach a cost of 3 Wh/image as a high upper-bound, but reaching this requires a larger model, and 100+ iteration steps as opposed to the standard 20—30. Google’s published estimates indicate that 3 Wh is also the energy cost of each interaction with their LLMs. But the costs of image generation are higher. Luccioni et al. (in the table above) found that among generation operations, text generation is less expensive than image generation (0.047 vs. 2.9 Wh). The most popular generative image model that can be run on consumer GPUs is Stable Diffusion. Benchmarking with codecarbon, with 20 samples, Stable Diffusion 1.5 takes ~0.09 Wh per image. Images from diffusion models can reach a cost of 3 Wh/image as a high upper-bound, but reaching this requires a larger model, and 100+ iteration steps as opposed to the standard 20—30.

We can also estimate the energy costs of modern black-box services that don’t release this data by using what we do know. Midjourney runs in real time, and takes 30–60 seconds to generate a batch of four images. As a high bound, if that process is running on a top-of-the-line GPU running at a full 450W for the full 60 seconds, that represents power consumption of 7.5 Wh per image set, and 1.88 Wh per subimage. So the energy consumption of an inference operation is somewhere in the range of 1.0 Wh to 7.0 Wh for standard operations, and to 4 Wh to 7.5 Wh for more expensive jobs like image or video generation. 7.5 Wh per shot is expensive for a single computer operation. That takes us out of the realm of normal high-performance processing like arithmetic and into the realm of things like visual effects or 3D rendering. But that makes sense when you remember that the work being done is actually visual effects and 3D rendering. Relatively complex work, relatively high cost.

The AI tools are efficient according to the numbers, but unfortunately that doesn’t mean there isn’t a power problem. If we look at the overall effects in terms of power usage (as most people do), there are some major problems. But if we’ve ruled out operational inefficiency as the reason, what’s left? The energy problems aren’t coming from inefficient technology, they’re coming from inefficient economics. For the most part, the energy issues are caused by the AI “arms race” and how irresponsibly corporations are pushing their AI products on the market. Even with operational efficiency ruled out as a cause, AI is causing two killer energy problems: waste and externalities.

AI is a new market to capture, but it also represents an unprecedented amount of influence corporations can wield against the people who use its products. And smaller tech companies (with a lot of cumulative venture capital) are racing to integrate other AI services into their various apps. So tech companies are desperate to capture the market. This is the land rush: tech companies scrambling for control of commercial AI. There is suddenly a valuable space to be captured, and every company is desperate to control as much of it as possible. This is a moment that rewards aggressive action and punishes cautiousness. This is what the “move fast and break things” model is built for. So rationality be damned, tech companies are all spending as much as they can on building the biggest, most expensive AI models imaginable right now. The promises of huge returns from speculative investment breaks the safety net of rationalism. And so now, everything clicks into place. Every tech company is desperate to train the biggest and most expensive proprietary models possible, and they’re all doing it at once. Executives are throwing more and more data at training in a desperate attempt to edge over competition even as exponentially increasing costs yield diminishing returns. Model training consumes vast amounts of energy for the sole purpose of gaining a competitive edge. The value isn’t that a better tool is created, the value is that you use tool A instead of tool B. In these cases the goal isn’t to produce something significantly more useful, it’s to shift who has what market share. Corporations are willing to place very high value — and spend vast quanties of resources on — goals that provide very low overall utility. And since these are designed to be proprietary, even when real value is created the research isn’t shared and the knowledge is siloed. Products that should only have to be created once are being trained many times over because every company wants to own their own. Profit is always the top priority, and companies are speculating that AI is a bottomless pit of profit. This means there is a spike of irresponsibly high demand for energy, and things have gotten weird. Bad-weird.

To go more into your specific example, I'd say using an AI trained on copyrighted media to generate images using characters and styles from those media is from both a copyright perspective and an energy consumption perspective, basically the same thing as drawing fanart using those characters and styles. I also want to point out that sometimes the only way to add accessibility options to a game is to apply a fanmade patch to a pirated download of that game - and I'd say that's a perfectly good way to do it!

I'm also not particularly worried about the stock photo business. Their business model could have been just as threatened by a massive copyright-free set of stock photos - and I think that would be a great thing for someone to make! Free/cheap stock photos for anyone who wants them is awesome.

As for the climate cost of adding accessibility options to a video game... well, if they mean someone plays a game they wouldn't play otherwise, that's hours of computer use happening because of those accessibility options. And if AI means someone spends hours on an art project they wouldn't do without it, that's pretty similar and likely about the same energy use! Ultimately I think both of those things are fine - and the fact that we're having this conversation on Tumblr suggests we're both on board with people using computers for things they find fun or otherwise meaningful.

oh here's something to really kick the hornet's nest: any argument against ai art that is basically saying ai is cheating because its too easy, that the process is the most important part, that it's lazy...

...is fundamentally the same argument as people that hate accessibility options in videogames.

[noctuadora]

"I can't."

a simple sentence that frustrated me to hell on my first watch. "what, that's it? why aren't you saying anything else to her? couldn't you explain?"

see, a lot (even me, initially) have interpreted his words as simply just:

"I can't give the chip because I can't let you expose the truth to the public." (they stop there.)

and this might've been the moment people accused him of becoming a corrupt government lapdog - whatever you name it. a year later however, it became clear to me (after reading tons of character studies about Leon lmao) that these words were meant to be interpreted as:

"I can't give the chip because I can't let you get hunted down by the government. I almost lost you (in the acid), so I can't let you do this. I don't want you to die."

he mentioned it before to Shen Mei, who shared the same sentiments as Claire: "if I do that [give you the chip], you'll have every agent in the US hunting you." I couldn't help but wonder: if Leon -does- give the chip to Claire, is there a possibility that he'll also be assigned by the gov't to hunt her down too?

in the case of Claire: I've seen people say she was being immature, but think about it: she had seen the horrors of Raccoon City and witnessed what Sherry had been through. because of that, she dedicated her life to helping victims of bioterrorism. she has always been swift to justice, albeit reckless and driven by emotion. to me, it might've seemed like she did have an idea of what consequences there would be in store for her; but if it meant exposing the truth to the public and stopping another RC incident, she would put her life at risk.

that's just the way Claire is. and Leon understands. he knows. but his desire to protect her is stronger than I personally expected. and I don't even mean this from a shipping standpoint; this is also just the way Leon is when it comes to life itself.

it's impossible to save everyone. he knows that better than anyone else. yet he persists. time and again, he gave up his security, his safety, to save someone else. this time, it's no different.

he knows she's disappointed, and of course he's not fine with it (who would?). but it's okay for her to walk away from him, as long as she's alive and safe. as long as he can protect her, that's all that matters.

[puppppppppy]

Xīn Yá and @crow-cap ‘s Little Sailor

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

things i always want to know about each episode

my favorite part of posting recaps is when people share their thoughts in the notes! so here is a list of things i love hearing. of course, you are under no obligation to share these things, but it is appreciated when you do!

did you like the episode? or did you hate it? or was it just okay? and feel free to share why

is the episode well-regarded within the fandom? (<- this one is really interesting to me, because i have no frame of reference for what the wider fandom thinks. i like knowing if i hit a big fave or if i found something cool in a less well-regarded episode. or if i am justified in my hating because everyone else does too, haha)

(i also love when people comment that i liked an episode enough to make them re-evaluate how they see it... <3)

which moments from the episode made you laugh/aww/cringe/gasp/etc etc

any behind the scenes trivia/fun facts ALWAYS make me sososo happy and i loooove to learn about them

honestly any fandom lore makes me so excited too! i love hearing about the terminology for different episode groupings, which moments really went wild with the msr crowd, any discourse the episode provoked, what was going on with the actors at the time, etc

i'm sure there are a million more things i could think of, but the overall message is that i really love hearing your thoughts and opinions! it makes the time put in feel worthwhile. since i'm still running from spoilers, the notes on these posts are pretty much the only way i get to interact with the fandom, so it is a real treat. and again, no obligation to ever comment, but it sure is fun when it does happen!

(also, this is a blog where going back and reading/reblogging/leaving many comments upon posts from months ago is encouraged and appreciated, so please never feel that you have to stick to the newest ones i post! i made the masterpost so it can be slightly easier for you to do exactly that <3)

[dia-tribe]

ohhhhhhhhhhh so it isn't "is this thing Good or Bad" but actually "what does this thing tell us about ourselves/our world/each other"........ i think im starting to get it now

[5-htagonist]

i read the hunger games books multiple times over as a kid, and i didnt like katniss' ending at first, bc my hyperlexic ass could read the words long before i could REALLY Comprehend the concepts, but as soon as i got a firm understanding of aromanticism and trauma and and etcetc... i like it a lot now

[ishq-itar]

<3

[rubys-domain]

now that i think about it, i wonder how the rest of the playerbase actually sees chongyun. as in everyone who's not privy to his character stories and voice lines, and who probably haven't done his hangout event either. i wonder what kind of personality they think he has

[arcanemarion]

re: consequences and "It's been 20 minutes!"

It's unfortunate that this particular point seems to have been missed.

In much of that final episode, nearly everything that could have had even a hint of consequence was either waved off as basically "it's fine", ignored, or spent an awkwardly long time making sure that no lasting consequence had to be borne. It (combined with many other moments leading up to it) undermined the weight of what happened for many people.

Wanting a fluffy happy ending for everyone because the world is literally on fire is understandable; that doesn't mean that it's going to make for good storytelling.

At the end of C2 a lot of people were bitching about all the unwrapped threads because there was so much left yet to do, but there's virtually none of that left for anyone in C3. I have a hard time envisioning what direct consequences or effects BH are going to collectively face for what they did months after the fact. Honestly, 20 minutes after the actual event sure seems like that's when they would face flack for their decision the most, and all they really got was a couple of people being angry at them instead of treating them like heroes. So really, yeah, it all feels pretty toothless and inconsequential, but especially because none of them changed.

Some of the most powerful moments in the finale were the gods appearing to their followers to say goodbye, but none of BH had that because they have 0 connection to them. Subsequent world consequences for their decision will affect (or at least should) other people disproportionately to them, and that's where the more interesting stories will be.

I don't doubt Matt's ability to contrive something for them to do, but my interests in subsequent Exandrian content lies outside of anything to do with BH.

[half-blessed]

I wonder why I don't hear many stories about people who are socially fail and don't have many friends and are scared to talk and say words. Then again, the people who WOULD tell those stories are scared to talk and say words. And also, I suppose it could be difficult to make a compelling character who doesn't interact with other characters. Or I'm just not looking the right places for stories. I would take recommendations.

[not-the-grave]

the depth of abandonment trauma i'm discovering i have is kind of insane

[inkskinned]

i have a fever. let's imagine pokemon world dash discourse together. (sorry i do not have darkmode.)

🤳🏻 pokestopit reblogged team-sprocket

👻 gengaydar Follow

For the last fucking time owning a gengar is NOT graverobbing. what is actually wrong with you people

#gengar #why am i even still on this site #i don't have a gengar but like. what's even going on over there #is marowak graverobbing now too??

💅 deerlinguist reblogged givemeyourstrongestpotion

👩‍❤️‍👩 lightscreend Follow

farfetch'd is like the most edible pokemon just because he comes with his own aromatics. pop that bad boy in the oven with some oran berries.... don't mind if i do

⚧ feministforcepalm Follow

@dyketraining tags pass peer review

🚣🏼‍♂️ magicarpaltunnel reblogged haxorsus

🐦‍⬛ corvikite Follow

I love to hate things and people. And when I turn out to be RIGHT and that person is a DICK? All parasocial relationships are bad and evil unless I am right about hating someone and then parasocial relationships are good actually

🪐waterbubbil Follow

We all thought about the same person let's just be honest here....

🎀 contest-winrar Follow

For me it's always going to be people who keep Pokémon without any thought as to their enrichment and needs. You do not need a fucking Arcanine, you live in a studio apartment and don't walk more than a block a day. You think you want a Gardevoir but are you okay with having an unknowable creature reading your thoughts every waking moment of the day? Even while you do... the nasty?

It drives me crazy because people see a Champion and think they have the time, energy, money, and space necessary to raise a Dragon type. Unless you have generational wealth, let me spell it out for you: you do not have the funds for a Dragon type. And yes! Charizard is on that list, guys! You can't even afford to feed yourself!

📯 jessiejustlickme Follow

local tumblr user declares the poors only get rat pokemon. maybe a bug pokémon if we are very good. we must grovel in the streets amen

🎀 contest-winrar Follow

Laugh all you want but I'm serious. I have heard of someone who is living with a MR. MIME like it's her HUSBAND!!!! That's fucking GROSS. These are creatures that TRUST us and NEED us.

Did you know that most Ponyta prefer to be in a herd? Are you going to have the space for that? Did you know that if you don't properly care for certain fire species their flame goes out? Sure, they're cute when they're small: but unless you're a rancher or a Gym Leader... I'm sorry. You're gross to me if you think otherwise. I hate people like that.

And for the record, rat and bug Pokémon are very valuable from an ecological standpoint. They hold an extremely important niche. People like you would rather they be hunted to extinction because they're pests, not pretty. It's disgusting.

🐦‍⬛ corvikite Follow

anybody in this thread smoke weed

#NOT THE RATS FOR THE POOR PEOPLE... GIRLLLLLL #the thing is they're not like... wrong.... #like i agree with the sentiment #my friend tried to get a slyveon just by like. playing catch a few times #.... like you do need to try.... #also fyi i have a large species so i'm biased #grovyle my baby . my man. u are costing me like so much in pokepuffs per month

👁‍🗨 badsol

why are we all talking about what pokemon to eat tonight lmafo

#.... obviously jigglypuff. homegirl is 90% cotton candy

🪅 feebassguitar reblogged metrognome

🫖 sinisteacher Follow

Like okay I got into science because I love to learn but the more I find out about how we've classified Pokémon types the more insane I feel. What do you mean there's no singular true indicator? What do you mean that there are several conditions which completely alter their base type?

Literally today my lab partner and I got into a very serious discussion about Luxray. That thing is a fuckking dark type!!!!! I'm sorry!!! I don't care what Bulbapedia says!!!! anyway i threw a pokeball at him and it swallowed him whole and now i'm going to jail for unlawful imprisonment of a TA

🍙 thesandwichking Follow

there's something, like, very dystopian about the idea that if u put an ugly hat on ur favorite little creature it changes like. the DNA. like. do other pokemon look at what you've done and cower? that's their friend... similar but changed... forever having known a life that is entirely alien to them...

🐳 wailordsupreme Follow

.... Are we going to ignore that OP swallowed a human into a ball???

#yes we are. #my friend loves those hats but I think they're so ugly #and stupid #if i wanted a specific type imma get that type..... #typesetting #show james

🧗‍♀️ backpacksandcavesnacks reblogged eevee-lotion

👑 lemmegrabmyballs Follow

ROUND 5 of 6 (see blog for more)

PLEASE REBLOG FOR VISIBILITY:

✍️ dreepydrabbles reblogged ash-hole

☠️ marrowhackoff Follow

just saw someone say writing omegaverse fanfic of your pokemon is bestiality. ma'am this is the monster fucking site. you should be grateful that it's only omegaverse.

#the things i've seen would melt your eyebrows clean off your face #..... typhlosion they could never make me hate you baby #i know that's not what's in your heart

🪽 honey-tree-skies reblogged gymcrawler

🐛 youngstirjoey Follow

Okay say what you will. But shorts really are comfy and easy to wear

🛀🏽 intimidatecutsyourattack Follow

Sorry bud. But. Investing at 3 notes

🐛 youngstirjoey Follow

don't do this to me. i h avue a wife . and chi ld

[kingkaisen]

— ♡ — 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 || 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 — ♡ —

Gojo’s in the middle of an important meeting, but chatting with his wife and daughter is his only priority.

“Satoru, can you please get off of your damn phone?”

Holding up a finger to the frustrated CEO as if to say, “give me a minute,” Gojo laughed casually as he kept his phone pressed against his ear.

The thirteen sharply dressed businessmen seated at the conference table all had their eyes fixated on the chatty sorcerer, who was asked to attend a very important meeting regarding the recent appearance of a special grade curse lurking around the company’s headquarters.

“Really?” Gojo said enthusiastically, leaning back in his office chair, swerving from side to side just a bit. “And what else did you do? What’d you learn at preschool today?”

Some of the impatient men were less aggravated once they realized who he was talking to — his beloved daughter.

“You learned about the life cycle of a butterfly? Oh, that’s amazing . . . And you drew a picture of one? We’re just gonna have to hang it on the fridge then . . . Mommy packed you your favorite sandwich for lunch? Did you gobble it all up? Sounds like you had a fun day, Muffin-”

“Satoru.”

The CEO called the sorcerer’s name again, but the man ignored him, grinning as he listened to his adorable daughter ramble on and on about her exciting day.

“Daddy’s gotta hang up soon, he’s in a very important meeting right now. Can you put mommy on the phone?”

As Gojo spoke sweetly to the young girl over the phone, he glared at the CEO, who sighed in utter defeat once the white-haired man still refused to get off of his phone.

“This is ridiculous, Gojo,” the older man grumbled. “It’s rude, unprofessional, and disrespectful to do this in the middle of a meeting!”

“Yeah?” Gojo raised his eyebrows. “If my daughter calls me, I’m going to answer. And you’re crazy if you think I’m not going to speak to my wife as well.”

“But we have a serious situation that needs to be discussed-”

“No, not really. This meeting is entirely unnecessary, considering I could just kill the curse and be done with it. My kid telling me about caterpillars matters more to me than anything you have to say right now, sir.”

For a moment, as the CEO sighed heavily in frustration, the big conference room was completely silent until Gojo suddenly spoke up.

“Hi baby,” Gojo beamed at the sound of your beautiful voice in his right ear. “Did you have a good day? I miss you . . . What? The store ran out of rice? You’re right, that is ridiculous. Want me to stop at a different store on the way home? . . . I know what kind, sweetheart . . . I’ll be home before dinner, I promise . . . No, I love you more and that’s not up for debate, sorry . . . Alright, I gotta hang up too . . . Okay . . . Bye, baby.”

Once Gojo hung up, the CEO sighed once again, but this time, with relief. But, as he started to speak, Gojo instantly got up from his chair.

“Hey, where are you going?” The CEO shouted, watching as Gojo headed straight for the door, smiling causally with his hands in his pockets.

“I’m going to kill that curse so I can go home. My wife needs more rice and my daughter wants to show me her butterfly picture, so I’m not staying here for a stupid meeting.”

The CEO’s protests were cut off by Gojo shutting the door behind him as he left the conference room.

And, this was, perhaps, the quickest amount of time in which Gojo had ever killed a special grade curse. After all, he missed his beautiful family, and he’d always make it home, no matter what.

— Part II —