#i think that tag is appropriate for this?

[helianthus-hellion]

hey i'm sure this would be really funny to, like, specific people in your friend group or something - but i don't see how a post about trans women needing care and love is even remotely an appropriate place to make a joke about how "actually if the board game is too complicated i won't love her," particularly given that tags are way more public than they used to be (and they have been this way for years now - it's not exactly "new")

genuinely i think you should reflect on why, when faced with a post asking you to care about trans women, your first instinct was to go "yea okay but only if she's not Too Annoying, if she's Too Annoying she has to go" and maybe uh. Don't Do That next time.

but would you love the trans woman even if she wasnt your on demand comedian and/or sex toy

[joelsprettyprincess]

Taming of the Shrew - Part 1

Pairing: dark!Arthur Morgan x f!reader Summary: After you finally call it quits on your on-and-off relationship with the outlaw, Arthur is forced to find a different way to make you stay. Series-wide tags: Toxic relationships, manipulation, obsessive behavior, smut, secretly unprotected piv, babytrapping, pregnancy, canon-typical violence, slight canon-typical misogyny. Wordcount: 3.3k A/N: I am very, very excited for yall to read this. It was so fun to write. Unfortunately I girlbossed a little too hard and it's almost 10k words. 😭So, this 'mini-series' will be split into 3 parts. As for accuracy, I did try, but the timeline is a little off. Just ignore that.. And what do we think of the series name?? Bonus points if you know the reference! I felt it was appropriate. Also, there is no smut until Part 2. Sorry! And as always MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Tags: @dandelion-ranch @i-will-give-you-love @amaranth-writing @heloixe

Part 2 is out!

“Just leave me alone, Arthur!”

These words flew from your mouth like bullets that struck him in the chest.

“Excuse me?” he said in a low growl, stepping towards you. You were both by his tent in his gang's current camp, and it wasn't exactly isolated. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kieran watching them curiously over by the horses.

You sighed, running a hand over your hair. “I'm just so tired of this.”

“Tired of what, exactly?” Arthur inquired dryly. He crossed his big burly arms and gave you an annoyed look.

“Everything, Arthur. The runnin’, the stealin’…the killing. I'm sorry, but I am not meant for a life like that.” You crossed your arms as well. A soft wind blew; inappropriate weather for the pressing conversation the two of you were having.

He came even closer. Those eyes…they were piercing yours with that discerning stare. “You say that like you've actually done any of it. I'm the outlaw, not you, sweetheart.”

You threw up your hands. “That's exactly the problem. If my daddy knew, he'd just about kill me, then hunt you down too. You know I can't…I can't…”

Arthur grasped your hand roughly, but you threw him off. You stomped away to where your horse was hitched, and of course he followed.

Arthur called your name, trying to stop you. Mary-Beth was watching you now too, but he didn't seem to care. Luckily most of the camp was out doing whatever it was this gang did for fun. Robbing, most likely, you thought, snorting.

“Quit the games,” Arthur spat. “We both know you're just gonna run back to me. You need me– and I need you. Don't leave.” 

“I most definitely do not need you, Mr. Morgan,” you snapped. “Why don't you go back to that Mary girl? I've seen them letters.”

A shadow passed over his face for just a second. “...Just go home. You are heartless, woman.”

You felt a little bad, but swallowed the feeling down. “I'm leavin', and I ain't coming back,” you cried, getting on your horse. “I've had enough of this gang's shenanigans. Don't come near me neither. I can't guarantee I won't let my daddy shoot you.”

With those cold parting words, you sneered at him and rode off towards Rhodes.

Regret sat like a pit in Arthur's stomach as he watched you leave Clemen's Point. Relationships were like a curse in the Van Der Linde gang. Inevitably they would be struck by death or divisiveness. Arthur had tried hard not to fall into the same patterns, but it seemed his loves were doomed from the start.

He paced around camp as he decided what to do. You and him had not been together long, only perhaps 3 months had passed since he first crossed paths with you at the saloon. 

You'd looked so out of place, sitting stiffly at a table in the corner with your maid. He'd watched you down a cup of brandy and immediately start coughing. It was clear you weren't used to the rough environment of a bar.

Arthur decided then, that he would show you.

And show you he did. You were initially attracted to his shadowy aura and western roughness, but spending more days with him revealed the genuinely caring man underneath. Arthur showed you so much of the world; he took you out for long horse rides through the forests, winding through the trees before making camp for the night and perhaps fucking before drifting off to sleep underneath the stars. 

He introduced you to a new way of life, one that was fading due to civilization, but exciting nonetheless. The first time you saw him shoot a man, you weren't sure whether to feel incredibly aroused or disgusted. Maybe it was a bit of both. Maybe the way of the outlaw was your path?

That is what you thought, until he brought you back to camp. It was a pretty bit of land, flat and grassy, but the people were something else. The men were loud, stinky, and violent, and the women were like men themselves. They all knew how to shoot, to steal, to survive. 

And you didn't. You were a wealthy girl; your father made his fortune in oil. You'd slept on a bed with silken sheets almost your whole life, and the closest you had come to a gun was looking at the ones your father had on display in his office.

Your mother was a society lady, obsessed with gossip and flirting with the help.

Both of your parents disgusted you, but you knew the privilege you had. You were their only child and therefore would receive a sizable inheritance upon your father's death. As cruel as it seemed, that was the only reason you tolerated them.

However, this was now threatened by your romance with one of the most wanted men in the country. Of course, you hadn't known he was wanted so badly when you first met. It wasn't until he had shot that bounty hunter that he'd told you the truth.

“I've got a price on my head,” he admitted to you while cleaning off the blood at a nearby stream. “A pretty big one.”

“How big?” you'd asked, sitting on the grass near him.

He dabbed at his shirt with a damp rag. “Er, about…five thousand dollars.” He mumbled that last part.

You whipped your head up. “Excuse me?”

“Five thousand dollars,” he repeated gruffly. “I know, I know.” He chuckled. “You can turn me in, if ya want.”

“Arthur,” you exclaimed, standing up. “That's…that's just so…who are you?!”

“Just somebody who's made a lot of dumb choices over the last 20 years. Listen, sweetheart, it's fine. I been runnin’ all this time and they ain't caught us yet.”

“Yet,” you said, then paused. “So…you killed a lot of people, then?”

He shrugged. “You really wanna know?”

“Good point.”

You weren't willing to completely submerge yourself in the pool of crime,  and Arthur couldn't quite blame you for it. He knew you were a society heiress, destined to hold luncheons, not revolvers. 

But that did not stop him from trying. Would not. That thing with Mary…well, he didn't like to think about that. It would not happen again.

Arthur jogged across camp to his horse…then realized that following you was probably not a good idea. You were angry right now, and you would cool off eventually, but right now you probably needed some space.

He sighed. Dutch was right. Women had so many needs. 

Arthur spent the rest of the day doing chores around the camp, plotting and thinking. And his thoughts got angrier and darker as time went on. Who did you think you were, anyway? Refusing Van Der Linde's most trusted associate? One of the most feared men in America? You were so uppity, with your silk dresses and thoroughbred horse. 

He slammed his axe down on the chunk of wood in front of him, frowning deeply and squinting his eyes against the sunset. Perhaps he should just tie you to his horse and bring you to Tahiti with the gang. Maybe then you would lose that damn attitude.

Arthur hit the wood so hard it burst into pieces, going everywhere. He grunted, then dropped the axe to the ground and trudged over to his cot. 

He could not pretend like your passionate declaration was unwarranted. You had seen the gang do violent things, things that made you think that being a sheltered rich girl wasn't so bad.

But the taste of freedom kept drawing you back like a drunkard asking for one more shot. You liked how the gang didn't answer to anyone but themselves, not dominated by any law or person or expectation.

It was a war of ideals, and his side was nearly out of ammo. Arthur really couldn't offer you anything but his love. It was no wonder you were running back to your parents. 

But his love was deep as an ocean, and as all-consuming as one too. After Mary closed the book on their romance (or was it just a fling to her?) forever, Arthur had been sullen and angry for a while. He swore he wouldn't let any woman make a fool of him again.

And then he met you. You, who was even richer than Mary, with twice as much sass and the same sweet Southern accent. You were drawn to each other like a ring of oil and a match. 

It was a love that was sure to burn and destroy.

Arthur slept fitfully, still angry at your rejection. He was hoping you were just caught up in the heat of the moment, but if you weren't, well…he would cross that bridge if he came to it. Tomorrow he would visit your father's manor.

After leaving Clemen's Point, you rode your horse back to Rhodes, fighting tears. That man! Arthur was an enigma sometimes. He was a stupid man if he thought you would really give up your life for him. No matter how handsome and broad-shouldered he was…

You were not returning though. You had a bad habit of pushing Arthur away, then coming back within a week. The two of you had an unpleasant cycle of affection: after you inevitably returned to his arms, he would act kind enough, then subtly become more obsessive and manipulative and suffocating until you’d had enough. He never chased after you too hard, knowing you would be back. 

And you always were.

Just before this latest rejection, Arthur had been angry because you didn't express much interest in learning to shoot.

“‘S not like we'll be sending you on missions or anything. Just think you should be able to defend yourself, is all,” was his reasoning.

“I thought you would protect me?” you had countered. He'd promised you wouldn't have to lift a finger if you stayed with him, that he would do everything for you.

“An’ I intend on doin’ that,” he insisted. “But it don't hurt to know how to use one. You see Molly? She don't know how to do much of anything, and you see how Dutch treats the girl. I don't want that for us.”

“It just feels like you misled me,” you huffed, smoothing off your riding dress. “I didn't know this lifestyle was so…so…”

“Well, newsflash, sweetheart,” Arthur said snarkily. “We survive out here. Ain't no oil money for us to fall back on. If that's the way you feel, then, just leave, ‘cause you obviously hate me.”

“Arthur!” you chided him. “You know I love you��”

“You sure?” he cut in. “It sure seem like you just came here lookin’ for a good time. I've bared my soul for you, and you can't even do this one thing for me.” He shook his head, disappointed.

That had set you off and caused you to take your leave, yet again.

But this time it was really going to stick. You were done running around with a criminal, especially since your parents were starting to notice how often you were absent. And if Arthur came around, well, you'd get your father to shoot him!

Arthur woke up early the next morning, still feeling annoyed from yesterday. The snooty look you had given him when you got on your horse pricked his mind like a thorn. 

He needed you…to behave. To submit. To love him. Violent feelings were coursing through his veins. This was different than with Mary. When she left, he'd let her go, knowing it was useless.

But you…you were different. You actually had an affinity for the lifestyle. Maybe you just needed…a little push?

He hopped on his horse and started towards your home. He was going to convince you, no matter what. Dutch was still talking about taking them to Tahiti. Arthur bet you would like it there, better than your stuffy manor, surely.

Arthur rode fast and hard. Usually he met you quite a ways away from the town to avoid anyone possibly seeing and recognizing you, so he'd only been around your home once or twice, which was north of Rhodes, near the Kamassa River.

He was really tired of this running around. You needed to commit, now, and stop the bullshit that kept spouting from your mouth.

A good bit of riding later and he slowed, seeing the stately silhouette of your manor. It always made him vaguely uncomfortable.

He hitched his horse nearby, then took up a position that would allow him to observe the front of the house without being seen. He just needed to talk to you.

Arthur was used to staking out locations for hours, so he settled in. You had never dared to sneak him into the house, so he wasn't sure which window was yours– but he would wait. Oh, yes, he would. You were not going to escape that easily.

After perhaps an hour and a half of watching the help come and go, Arthur finally saw you emerge from the house, alone. About time, he thought gruffly.

He hung back, waiting till you got on your horse and start towards town before quietly mounting his horse and following you.

Arthur waited till the path was isolated on either end, then easily rode up beside you. “Morning, sunshine,” he greeted you cheerfully.

You squeaked in surprise, then turned and looked. “Arthur?! What– what’re you doin' here?”

“I need to talk to you,” he said firmly. “You ran away so fast yesterday, didn't even give me time to defend myself.”

“Ain't nothing to talk about,” you replied. “We're done.”

“We ain't.”

“We are. Leave me alone.”

“This is what you want in life? Stayin’ in some giant empty home with cash to burn? No excitement or nothin’?”

“Maybe,” you said annoyedly. “What of it?”

“I know that's not what you want,” Arthur said firmly. “I gave your life meaning, and I'll be damned if you try to deny that!”

“You have no idea what I want, Arthur Morgan,” you snapped, riding faster. He kept pace with you.

“I know you want more than this. I know you love me…or at least, I thought you did. Maybe I'm a fool and you've just been using me this whole time. Is that it, princess?” he demanded.

“No, Arthur–”

“No, Arthur,” he repeated in a squeaky voice. “You always say that. I can't believe it! I've been such an idiot this whole time. You never loved me. You just wanted a– a chaperone. You women are such cunning creatures. I gave you my whole heart, and you just stomped on it.”

“Arthur!” you cried, feeling guilty and angry at the same time. “You know that's not true. You know I love you. But the truth is…if my father were to ever find out about you, he'd surely disown me, and cut me out of the will. How could I risk that?”

He snorted. “All you care about is money, huh? Listen to me, sweetheart. It doesn't matter if you get that inheritance or not. You'll be alone forever. You will never, ever find someone like me. No one else puts up with your bullshit like me. Maybe you'll find a nice enough banker, who'll give you a kid or two out of duty, maybe you'll live in this house and hold parties just like your mother. But you will never be fulfilled like you would with us. You'll be surrounded by fancy possessions, maybe, but you'll always regret not coming with me.”

“Arthur,” you said hoarsely, staring at the dirt path ahead. This is how he got you everytime. He knew your biggest fear was being unfulfilled in life. He knew, and he never hesitated to use that against you.

Arthur knew you like a priest knows sin. He'd listened to your confessions for days on end, and now he was using them to break you down.

“I…I…” It was difficult to articulate your thoughts. He was very skilled at making you feel bad.

Before you had a chance to answer, a shot rang out and a bullet zipped between you two. Your horse neighed loudly, reared, and you fell off with a shout. You fumbled, getting tangled in your skirts, trying to crawl away.

Arthur cursed, then vaulted off his horse to grab you and drag you to the nearest cover. He stowed you behind a large rock, then peeked over and started trading shots with whoever was trying to apparently kill him.

“Arthur Morgan!” a masculine voice called out. “Turn yourself in or we’ll be forced to put a bullet in you!”

“Who is that?!” you screamed, terrified. 

“Another damn bounty hunter, probably,” he grunted, switching to his rifle. “Just keep your pretty head down.” 

You covered your ears and cowered. A few shots later, and the only sounds remaining in the forest were your horse’s panicked neighs and Arthur’s labored breath.

He sheathed his rifle and wiped off his forehead, leaning his head against the rock. “You okay?”

“Barely,” you said angrily. “You see what I mean now? I can’t live like this, Arthur! I’m sorry! I can’t risk it.”

Arthur went silent for a bit, and you glanced over at him. He had his hat pulled down low to where you couldn't make out his expression. “I’m gonna see who was huntin’ me,” was all he said before getting up and going over to examine the bodies.

You had no desire to see any mangled corpses, so you stayed behind the rock while Arthur investigated. 

You heard a shout, then a sick groan. What the hell? You lowered your head even further.

Arthur came back a couple minutes later. “We’re clear,” he said. “Just some idiot who thought he could really capture me.”

He had blood on his hands and his shirt. That coupled with the sweat that was shining on his forehead, made him look kind of attractive to you. Wait, what? 

“He wasn’t quite dead,” was his explanation.

You shakily stood up, dusting off your skirts. “D-D-Don’t ever talk to me again, Arthur. I want nothing to do with this.”

Arthur examined you for a while, and you grew uncomfortable under his stare, but you looked right back at him.

He finally sighed and shrugged. “If that's what you want.”

You watched in disbelief as he got back on his horse and left, apparently riding back towards Clemen's Point.

What just happened? 

That little nymph. 

Arthur was internally raging, gripping the reins of his horse so hard it was sure to leave angry red marks on his palms. If it weren’t for that damned bounty hunter! He was sure he could have convinced you to come back.

This was going to require something more drastic. Something…serious.

He rode back to camp while he thought about it. Luckily things were pretty calm for now, besides those hunters. He hoped it wasn’t a sign of something urgent. Dutch and Hosea were working on locating some gold that apparently existed around these parts, and were opting for the long run instead of going in, guns blazing. That worked out for Arthur, who had no desire to leave you anytime soon.

The question was this: What would not only bring you back to him, but make you stay permanently? Hmm…some sort of pressing situation, obviously.

He couldn't threaten you; that would be a bad foundation for your relationship.

The untimely demise of your parents, maybe? No, you would most likely be sent to a relative’s house. 

Speaking of parents.

Arthur felt a good idea forming. He furrowed his brows in concentration.

Speaking of your parents…you had spoken about your fear of being disowned.

Would that push you back into his arms? If you had nowhere else to go, would you turn to him?

But under what circumstances would you be disowned? If he made an appearance on your estate, you would probably be disgraced but not disowned, and he would be shot on site with any subsequent visits.

He needed you so bad it fucking hurt. Even just the thought of never seeing you again made Arthur desperate enough to try even the craziest plan.

An inkling of an idea was taking shape…

Perhaps, instead of a death…maybe a birth?

End of Part 1.

[creekfiend]

I'm REALLY feeling the entire contents of your bonsai kitten problems tag today. but in a good way I think? we are repotting that thing into a container that is humane and appropriate for its needs <3

godspeed to you 🫡

[fickdichistwarum]

Taking a course on sociolinguistics was genuinely the best thing I ever did to get better at Talking To People. I finally understood why I "sounded arrogant" and was "standoffish" and "rude". Turned out I was using the wrong register. Learning how to code-switch appropriately really helped. As did learning how to use pragmatic tags to leave room for disagreement, and why that's particularly important in my dialect. Honestly, I think most people would benefit from learning some basic sociolinguistics, not just us of The Divergent Neurons, if for no other reason than to be able to identify what about the way someone's talking is bugging them, and whether it's deliberate insult or just a cultural or neurodivergent thing.

I'm trying to figure out a good way to say "you really should actually learn the basics of small talk" with sounding like I'm biased against autistic people.

[420days]

CHAPTER 2

excuse any errors or mistakes

tags: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh @skyesthebomb @cyberdejos2 @chloeijuana @tian-monique

"What about this?" Simone asked Bianca as she pulled the dress out of her suitcase "I feel like this is an appropriate outfit for the interview.

Simone had landed in Tampa the night before and was currently in her hotel room trying to find something to wear to the venue where the meet and greet would take place.

"I like that. It's cute, you're not doing too much, and you still look good. Maybe you can find a boo out there too," Bianca raised her eyebrows at her.

"Girl ! I'm not here for none of that. I'm honestly more excited to see all the little kids with there merch and stuff.”

"Mmmh, I forgot you love the kids." Bianca nodded her head into the phone. "They’re gonna be so happy to see y’all.”

When they got off the phone, Simone began doing her hair, parting it down the middle and hotcombing the top so it was flat. She swooped her baby hairs and perfected her makeup.

After getting dressed, Simone arrived at the Stadium around nine-thirty, earlier than necessary but just how she liked it. She appreciated having time to settle in, get familiar with her surroundings, and find something to eat.

She instantly noticed how packed it was, with volunteers running around setting things up. Unsure of what to do or who to help, she spotted a woman walking past with a badge around her neck. The woman was dressed in a black pantsuit, matching heels, and her hair slicked into a low bun.

"Um, excuse me," Simone said, stopping her.

"Yes?" The woman gave Simone a blank look.

"I was invited here for an interview. I don't really know who I'm supposed to talk to or what I'm supposed to do."

Sighing, the woman took the clipboard from under her arm and looked up. "What's your name?"

"Simone." She slightly rolled her eyes at the woman who seemed to be uninterested.

"Oh yes! I can see your name right here on the list. Come over here so I can get you settled in." The woman waived Simone over to the backstage area.

The woman clipped a microphone pack to the back of her shirt and led her to the dressing room that was set up for her and Roman. There was all kinds of snack and drinks set up on the table so she helped herself to the fruit along with a bottle of water. As she was snacking there was a knock at the door. It was the same woman from earlier with Roman not too far behind her.

“It will probably we another 30 minutes until they’re ready for you guys but I’ll come check on you guys in a few.” She told them.

“Hey.” Simone smiled when he walked into the room.

“Hey Simone, how are you?” He spoke to her.

“Well and yourself?”

“Ah, I can’t complain. Have you been here long?” He kept the conversation going.

"Not really, I just got here and I had to walk around for a little bit to find somone that works here. They didn’t give any instructions on what to do when we got here.”

“That’s the same thing that happend to me. I was looking for you when I came in.” He told her as he sat down in the seat next to her.

“They need to give the champs better treatment.” She pursed her lips causing him to let out a laugh.

-

“She was definitely flirting with you.”

“You think so?” Roman raised an eyebrow as he opened the car door for Simone to climb inside. He hosnlty wants laying the woman any attention and thought she was unprofessional.

“Yes! She wasn’t even asking me any questions for real but that’s fine. I get it.” She held her hands up defensively.

“Oh, you get it?” He chuckled as he ran his hand over his beard and got comfortable in his seat.

“I mean yeah I’m not gonna sit here and lie like you’re not attractive but she should’ve been doing her job.” Simone giggled before pulling her hair over her shoulder.

“You’ve been blunt your whole life?” He asked her after a moment of silence passed between them. Roman knew he had to break the ice with Simone if he wanted to get to know her.

“I wouldn’t say blunt but definitely outspoken. I feel like people make normal things awkward for no reason. I’m not going to lie about someone being fine, respectfully of course. Not to be disrespectful towards your wife or anything.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m divorced.” He spoke.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Simone spoke not knowing if it was a sensitive topic for him. She went through a breakup herself last year so she knew it could be touchy.

“Don’t be, it’s all good. Are you seeing anyone?” He asked catching her off guard but she felt like she had to quickly clear it up.

“Nope. ” She shook her head and looked down at her freshly manicured nails.

“I’d love you take you out sometime and get to know you more if you’re up for it. I know we’re busy and everything.” He motioned towards their belts. “But I could make time.”

“That would be nice. I’d definitely be down for that. Would you want to take my number?” Simone smiled at him, slightly surprised that he was interested in him.

“Most definitely.” He nodded his head and took his phone out the pants pocket of his dress pants and handed it to her.

[cresselias-dream-journal]

Hi, Hi, I'm Nymh, a cresselia documenting some of the weirdest dreams I encounter while doing my Legendary work I use she/her pronouns and I enjoy daydreaming myself. My stuff is tagged with Daydreamer Nymh

I have a Twin Brother a Darkrai called Kell he'll be around on occasion his stuff will be tagged with "Nightmare Bringer Kell"

//OOC Hi, hi, this is @lunaphoenix221 of @lunas-galaxy back at it again with another blog

//this blog this time around is a blog inspired by @/one-time-i-dreamt, which, if you aren't familiar, is a dream submission blog where you can submit your weird dreams for the world to see. That is how this blog will work, but it's all ic with pokeirl people

//I do, however, have some submission guidelines

Submission guidelines

I want this blog to be fun for everyone, so no NSFW dreams are allowed to be submitted, Suggestive stuff is fine, but please, I beg, keep it PG-13 at the most

You can submit Nightmares, those are the ones Kell will post. Try not to be overly gruesome, and please tag submissions with triggers with the appropriate trigger warnings

Anyone is welcome here regardless of canon. This is here to be fun and silly.

Please, no, anon hate, especially regarding dream submissions from other members of the community, because if these people are like me, they are really proud of what they are submitting.

I may do themed submission events for specific holidays, I will give them specific tags if you want to avoid those

And I think that's it, I hope you guys have fun and enjoy this blog it was just a very silly idea I had.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Question, new watcher to miraculous. Why are the kwamis in the chinese miracle box not chinese? And I know that it has the zodiacs, but their powers sometimes intersect with each other, and some of their themes/aspects somehow doesn't connect with the animal that the kwamis are being represented with. Like Pollen with action, I heard that it used to be subjugation which I think fits better with the bee theme. Anyways, what I am saying is, why is the magic system of miraculous so messy and cluttered?

Run, newbie!!! Run!!! Save yourself!!! Don't be drawn in!!!

In all seriousness, your best bet is to pretend that the miracle box isn't tied to a specific culture because it's culture as decoration and nothing more. There is no deep logic to anything about it. I'd even go so far as to label it cultural appropriation because of how surface level it all is. A child watching the show won't even learn what the Chinese zodiac is because no one ever refers to the Kwamis as such or discusses what the zodiac is or even uses the word "zodiac." That's all a fanon addition.

I've talked about this in way more depth in the past, so here are a few relevant posts from my "lore discussion" tag. I'm pretty good at remembering to use that one when I feel like a post adds something new to the topic, so feel free to browse, just note that it's about all the lore and not just this part of it. Note that some of the chosen posts reference each other, so I'm just giving them to you in chronological order to save you some time.

Post 1

Post 2

Post 3

The bee did indeed used to be subjugation and was retconned to action for some reason. I've heard that it was to be something more accessible to kids, but we've still got things like Jubilation and Transmission in the roster so I'm not sure if that's true. If it is, it's silly because we've still got things like Jubilation and Transmission in the roster.

As for why there are all the repeat powers and other such nonsense, as best I can tell, they didn't actually come up with any lore for the Kwamis' powers outside of Tikki and Plagg and maybe some of the original five that also inhabit the top of the box (bee, peacock, butterfly, turtle, and fox). All of the other powers were made up on the fly and based around trying to fit the power to the kid who would get it since the show took the approach of "if you don't have enough for everyone, then you don't have enough to share with anyone." Great for candy, terrible for magical items.

Rose is optimistic so she gets a power that's basically optimism, Nathaniel the artist gets a creation power, and so on. This is, of course, a terrible way to approach lore as you're not trying to balance your magic system in the slightest. You're just making shit up as you go, meaning you get contradictory powers and repeats and all other kinds of crap. I've talked about this a few times around different powers, but I'm particularly fond of this lecture dunking on the peacock because I hate it so much.

[miksanchismosa]

It is now almost 4 o’clock in the morning (VERY appropriate considering 🥹 in the extreme off chance you won’t know by the end of this post, Tae is my bias) and I’m feeling so many emotions I could sob. This is so beautiful and heart-wrenching (not for much longer I hope, tho the teaser for chapter 6 has me clutching my heart to make sure it’s still in one piece).

I do see from your blog that you are on hiatus, but i could not pass on telling you how much I enjoyed this story. I would love to be on the taglist once you return 🖤 (my main blog is @miksancheese but I don’t mind being tagged here as well). I’ve spent many nights up losing myself in ffs on this hellscape but I’m not sure I’ve read one that’s written Taehyung like you have. I fear just like the real Taehyung, you have made it that much harder for me to accept anything less a seemingly impossible standard. Men written by women are >>>. I am very happy I stumbled upon your blog and I cannot wait to dive further into your masterlist. Once I’m able to stop swimming in emotions from this doozy that is😵‍💫😂. The way you’re able to build tension and how you can write emotions so completely that they feel tangible is truly incredible. I think you’re incredibly talented and I hope that your hiatus is treating you well. I’ve seen a lot of content creators on this site face a lot of stress and struggle with their inspiration (and just the atmosphere of this site) and I just wanted to let you know that I feel incredibly lucky that you have chosen to share any of this with us FOR FREE to begin with. So thank you Ari 🖤

I would selfishly love to see you active again in 2025 at some point, but for now I hope you’re taking care of yourself and following inspiration where you can find it. Your love for writing is very evident from this story alone and I look forward to reading more from you in the future!

things we don’t say: masterlist (kth)

banner credit: @itaeewon​

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (they’re so, SO stupid), slooooow burn, angst, fluff, eventual smut

word count: 54.5k (and counting)

series warnings: swearing, sexual themes, one instance of mild violence, alcohol use, infidelity, brief mentions of neglectful parents and alcoholism (additional warnings given by chapter)

a/n: the below reflects my current plan for the series, but this is subject to change as it is very likely that certain parts will be broken up!

Read on ao3 // moodboard // author masterlist

MAIN STORY

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 5.5 (interlude) (m)

Part 6 (TEASER) (coming soon!)

Part 7

Epilogue

DRABBLES: THE BEFORE

Drabble 1: in which OC has too much to drink

Drabble 2: your eyes tell

DRABBLES: THE AFTER

Drabble 1

Drabble 2

Drabble 3

Drabble 4

Drabble 5

Drabble 6

[ent-fandom-events]

Enterprise Ship Week 2025

Welcome to Enterprise Ship Week 2025!

This event is designed for creators to create outside their usual shipping comfort zones, a challenge to some, but mostly just something fun to do. More information and image transcript under the cut!

GENERAL INFORMATION:

This event is designed as follows: you have been given 7 days and 5 ships, plus 2 "free for all" spaces. You can create anything to do with these ships, starting from the date this has been posted (you do not have to start writing day of, but you can if you want an extra challenge!). All forms of creation are allowed. This includes fanfiction, fanart, gif making, edits, and any other creative means you can think of.

The tag used on tumblr is #ent ship week 2025. There is no ao3 tag or collection, as I am still gauging interest and participation.

You can participate as little or as much as you want. Do all the days, do just one day, doesn't matter. The event is designed to be a challenge and push people outside their comfort zones, but that isn't rigidly enforced, and we want people to have fun over anything else.

Prompts Transcript:

Satoweather Saturday

Shrancher Sunday

Malcoshi Monday

Tripol Tuesday

Rarepair Wednesday

Tuckerreed Thursday

Free Space Friday

FAQ:

Why did you choose those ships?

I just chose ones I thought were common and that matched up to the days. I also tried to keep an even spread across characters as much as I could.

What's "Rarepair Wednesday"?

That one is because I couldn't think of any ENT ships that began with W lmao. That day, you can choose any rarepair/rarethrouple/etc. (any ship in the fandom with under 100 fics) and create something for them.

What's "Free Space Friday"?

You can create for any ship there! It can be one that was in a previous day, or an entirely new one that wasn't mentioned.

Do I have to create something within the exact timeframe?

Not at all! If you've come across this event a month down the line and want to participate, that is more than welcome.

Are there any restrictions?

Not really. There is no word minimum requirement or anything. All I ask is that NSFW and suggestive themes be tagged and rated appropriately.

Any other questions? Send an ask!

[marcebuds]

i think tumblr is just deciding to absolutely massacre the quality on this every time i try to post it so whatever. finally settled on rinne and niki designs i like for my au <3 gaze upon them

[eydilily]

would you bite the hand that feeds you?

[neosatsuma]

[umblrspectrum]

happy solvermas

[thelostmoongazer]

yeah he's baby girl or whatever

[xxnightfrostxx]

Oh god this NOT gonna be pure but i got into tumblr back around in 2012 [so around 15] on a super old account that still exists [i won't link it here], because oh dear lord i was so cringy and edgy back then.

My ''first'' fandom was my little pony friendship is magic [i was in it since 2011 or so] i think if you know what happened in that fandom without me going into too much detail, let's say i didn't say the most age appropriate things on that blog.

Anyways trauma aside i tag @dillybea , @shapeshivvter @emmentalcheese and @ratratratratratsewer

ok everybody reblog and say how you found out about tumblr/why you joined and if that reason is different now

i found out about tumblr from this online comic i realy liked and i had to make an account to see the art that the author posted. so i made one and eventually didn't really care so much about the comic anymore. then i got into the emoverse and was reading tumblr posts on pinterest. i remembered i had an account that i never posted on. i got back on. and here i am.

@b4ilout @im-literally-so-dun @not-bluejay @mapletree100 @butterfrogsayshi

[anne-is-confused]

saw @teamingmate 's terror au pathologic posts and uh i may have started spiralling a bit