#i wanted to reblog the post but i think it got deleted

[bloggerspam]

I'm a dummy and have fucked up the reblogs.

So I'm going to fix that and delete the incorrect posts so that the chapters are all in one place in the correct order. Please bear with me and I'm sorry for any confusion....

===

Gotham is unusually sunny, which works in Steph's favor by providing ample lighting.

Steph adjusts herself, posing just a little against a streetlight behind her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She smooths down her skirt, her favorite black denim pencil skirt that makes her legs look long, for the millionth time. Her oversized jean jacket and fitted purple turtleneck keep her warm as she waits impatiently beside an equally posed Jason.

He's decided to cross his arms and casually lean back against Danny's bike, wearing a tight black thermal henley that really doesn't do anything to hide his muscles. His jeans look painted on, and his leather jacket is tucked safely in her car, parked a little ways away.

They're both pretending they're not acting like peacocks.

It's mostly working.

She's entirely grateful that Sam decided to bail the two troublemakers out, rather than Jason and Steph having to beg. Sibling solidarity can go a long, long way when cute boys and girls are involved, but it's better to err on the safe side when your main antagonist is your pesky nosy cop of a brother.

…Not that Steph's a Wayne by any means, but still. It counts.

The sound of bickering, familiar voices cause their nerves of waiting to turn into the nerves of anticipation.

"Fenton I swear to Clockwork I will end you if this happens again!!" Val's smooth baritone rasp is threatening, and even though it's playful, it still brings shivers down Steph's spine.

"What makes you think it'll happen again?" Danny challenges, Jason perking up beside her like a puppy.

"Because I know you, you dolt." Val growls, both of them coming into view now, "I bet you've already got plans on a better version knocking around in that empty head of yours!"

And fuck. Val's wearing a loose yellow crop top and low rider jeans, and with the way she jostles about with Danny, Steph can see a little peak of her abs every time she reaches up. Steph licks her lips at the flash of the other woman's dark skin, wants to bite at the pouch she's got going on that Steph knows means she's packing practical muscle.

Steph really, really wants to get her mouth on that woman ASAP.

If only Val would actually use said god damn muscles and pick up on the damn hints Steph's been leaving, that would be phenomenal.

"Just because you're right doesn't mean—oh!" Danny pauses, causing Val to stutter stop with him reflexively.

"Bossman?" Val squints, before her eyes widen, "Steph? Is that…Danny's bike?"

Jason puffs up his chest, proud, looking especially pleased when Danny beams and rushes towards them to check over his baby. It puts Danny all up in Jason's business, who refuses to step away probably for that purpose. Damn him, but he's smooth.

"Did you guys bail out the bike for him?" Val asks, smile soft as she comes to stand next to Steph, "You really didn't have to, Danny's not worth all that trouble."

"Oh, it was no big." Steph shrugs, peering down at Val through her eyelashes as best she can, "Between you and met? It didn't cost a penny." She winks. "We heard from a little birdy Danny quite likes bad boys."

"Yeah?" Val smirks, and gods is it hot, "And you totally didn't go along with it to, oh, I don't know, egg him on?"

Steph giggles, giggles like a schoolgirl! Ugh. She can't with herself sometimes. "Hey, who says he didn't need my expert help? I'm a beast with a lock pick you know."

Wait. That's not a normal thing to brag about. Abort! Abort!!

"Nice. I'm no slouch either, but I can't imagine it was easy." Val chuckles, shaking her head. "Which of you managed to crack Danny's security system? Your lockpicking skills extend to hacking too?"

…Apparently, it is a normal thing to brag about. Proceed as planned!

"We had a little help." Steph smiles her most winning smile, leaning a little into Val's space. The other girl's eyes widen, licking her lips, and Steph almost says fuck it, almost leans closer, if only—

"So I was thinkin' we could watch that new horror movie playin' at the threatre," Jason's voice is low, Steph almost misses it, if Val immediately swing her head towards him, "Carnage for Christmas, y'know, 'tis the season and all…"

Pouting at her missed opportunity, she looks over herself to see what the fuss is.

Danny is smiling helplessly up at Jason, who has a hand on the bike and is leaning over him close. They look snug, Danny fiddling nervously and looking besotted whilst Jason is eyeing Danny like he wants to eat him up.

Steph refuses to get jealous. Jason's got a head start, but that doesn't mean—

"Danny hates Christmas," To her credit, Val looks like she very much does not want to interrupt whatever is going on over there, "Plus, he's scared of ghosts."

Which. What?

Jason, mirroring her confusion, sputters. "But—I thought?" Jason's eye flick back and forth between a sheepishly embarrassed Danny and a reluctantly cockblocking Val. He settles on the safest thing to say. "Isn't Amity Park 'The Most Haunted Town in America'?"

Both Amity Parkers nod with a grimace.

"Aren't your parents ghost hunters?" Steph asks, though she regrets it when both of them stare at her with hard eyes.

"We never told you my last name." Danny's voice quavers, and he backs up just a tiny bit. "…Did you look into me?" Jason's expression crumbles, just that tiny bit, reaching over only to stop and bring his hand back when Danny flinches.

You mean his bully and his stalker? Sam had said. Fuck.

Steph and Jason both try to say no, only—only they did. Thankfully, Val steps in.

"Danny, they're Waynes." Her voice is forcefully calm. "It would be weirder if they didn't look into you."

That, thank all the fucking gods, does the trick. Steph bites her lip from refuting her Wayne status, watching tensely as Danny starts to cautiously relax, no longer looking like he's ready to bolt at any minute.

"Right." Danny breathes, relaxing enough to lean back into Jason's personal bubble, "Right, of course."

Steph and Jason silently resolve to give Val an expensive gift and a raise, respectively.

"Where did you find out about his parents?" Val asks, still in that forceful calm, silently urging them to…what, give a good excuse?

"From us, guard dog. Breathe a little." Sam's voice sounds out from the police station. "Not that I blame you, but we promise Danny is safe."

It's an odd thing to say, a concerning thing. She can tell Jason's already made a mental note to figure that shit out pronto. Boy's definitely gotten attached.

"Long time no see!" Tucker grins, waving at the four of them, "Sorry we took so long, that brother of yours had a lotta questions and Sam was not having it."

"ACAB." Sam deadpans, rolling her eyes and startling laughter out of Steph and Jason.

"He's not even supposed to be here," Steph rolls his eyes, "He usually works over in Bludhaven."

"He gave us some bull about police officer exchanges," Jason adds on, "which neither of us bought."

Danny relaxes all the way now, darting up a glance as a softly smiling Jason (gag) and even daringly leaning a shoulder against him. Jason preens.

"Wait go back," Val squints suspicious eyes at Tucker, "What do you mean long time no see?"

"It was a joke," Tucker's smile goes sly, "We met yesterday, committed our first crime in Gotham together and everything."

"Even got ice cream to celebrate" Sam smirks, "Swapped stories."

Danny looks up at Jason, wide eyes sad and mouth pouty, "You committed crime and got ice cream without us?"

Steph watches as Jason try to placate Danny, who is clearly joking and not having it, and feels all kinds of jealous and happy for him.

It just reminds her that she's gotta get going, so she leans just that little bit closer to Val, who is focused on Sam.

"What kind of stories?" Val crosses her arms, which. Delicious. Steph wants to bite them. Maybe Steph has an oral fixation.

She's okay with that. Hopefully Val is too.

"Oh…you know," Tucker drawls out, taking his sweet time, "Like how Danny's parents are ghost hunters turned ecto-biologists, a little bit about the ghosts and our town heroes…"

"…maybe a little bit about the Phan Club," Sam adds, not so innocently, "And how you were obsessed with Martina William's buck teeth in Junior Year because you thought they made her so cute, like Bugs Bunny—"

That seems to be the last straw. Val lunges.

Sam and Val chase each other, another, less monkey'd version of how Danny and Val brawled together.

It gave Steph more opportunity to observe their fighting styles, do a little more guesswork on the mystery that was Amity Park.

Danny liked to throw things, reliant on his apparent strength. Not for the first time, Steph wondered if Danny was a meta, if this was further proof that maybe Danny was Phantom, the blurry, hazmatted hero of Amity Park.

Val liked to flip and trip people up, even now, she was hooking her feet and flipping over objects on the street. She's been filmed on all sorts of security cameras, but her background doesn't discount her as Red Huntress, the newer hero that seemed antagonistic towards Phantom. Steph's not sure though, there isn't a lot of overlap beyond that in their fighting styles, and maybe it's the suit but Huntress' body type looked more svelte.

Sam, apparently, liked to use the other's momentum against them, stepping out and pushing against already moving limbs to twist them all around, topsy turvy. When Val went low to sweep a foot under, Sam stepped back and kicked it, turning Val all the way around and giving Sam a wide opening to the other girl's back, easy pickings

Steph squinted. Red Huntress liked to use weapons, so it was harder to really cement a fighting style, but she's seen Huntress use that move in one of the clips Babs sent over. And Sam was a little more on the petite side...

…Was Sam Red Huntress?

"You guys really like to brawl, huh." Steph said absently, trying to see if she could make any other connections.

"Everyone in Amity Park knows at least a little somethin' about brawling." Tucker shrugs, "It'd be hard not to, Most of the older generations were really into self-protection of any kind, even before the ghosts came around."

"Mom's a 9th degree black belt and Dad does judo," Danny agrees, "Jazz, my sister, took to Krav Maga like a duck to water, but got Dad's terrible aim."

"What about you?" Jason asks, peering at Danny's arms, no doubt remembering Danny's ease in tossing Val clear across a room and probably drooling about it. "Judo?"

Danny blushed, but it was Tucker that answered. "Danny's a whiz with weapons." He grinned a sharp little grin, "And yeah, he knows a lil' somethin' about judo. He's stronger than he looks."

Danny scratched the back of his neck, bashfully, "Mom was a little disappointed about the Krav Maga, I just don't have the head for it, but she perked right up when she found out I was good at handlin' guns."

Jason's eyes flared, and he leaned in a little closer with a gleam to his eye, voice so low Steph could scoop it up from the god damn floor. "Yeah?"

Ugh. Someone gag her. This does put the Phantom thing a little on the grayer side, since the 'ghost' hero relied more on their punches.

Steph shakes her head to clear her thought, looking hopefully over at where Sam and Val were still at it. She sighed, but turned back with a smile anyway. "And Val?"

"Val's dad works in Security," Danny's ears are so very red from Jason's attentions, "She's got some history in Hapkido, or was it Taekwondo?"

"Explains all the kicks," Jason whistles, "And all of Amity Park's like that?"

"Nobody realized how weird it was to have PE just be a karate class until Sam came around." Tucker continues, gesturing to the girls, "She came to town later, but she's also kind of good at most physical things."

"She's kicked my butt too many times to count," Danny grumbles, "Aikido is tricky to handle."

"At least you can keep up." Tucker rolls his eyes. "Leave some talent for the rest of us."

"Says the resident tech genius." Danny scoffs, but wisely keeps it at that when tucker rolls his eyes. "Besides, you're passable at guns."

"Passable," Tucker mocks, "Gee thanks."

The more she hears about Danny, the more she thinks he's too good for Jason. But then again, he also seemed perfect for him, so Steph called it a wash.

"So about that movie?" Jason decided to change the subject, probably impatient to get loverboy to himself. "We could watch something else, if Christmas or scary movies aren't your thing."

"The new Venom is out," Danny perked right up, turning towards Tucker for some reason, "We've been meaning to see that, right?"

"Uh," Tucker hesitates, gaze wide and frantic as it darts between Danny and Jason, "Y-yeah, buddy but I think—"

"The Marvel movies are one of the few movie franchises we can all agree on," Danny explains, turning back to Jason and looking up brightly, "We usually wait to watch on stream or something, but…" Danny bites his lip shyly, voice quieting, "…maybe we can watch it theatre just this once?"

Jason looks like he's trying his damnedest to not look disappointed, which—Steph feels for him, really. She and Tucker share a look, trying to figure out how to delicately navigate out of this disaster.

"Actually, I was thinking of—" Steph tries, only to be interrupted by a loud boom!

All six of them stiffen, bracing themselves and looking for the source. Those stories about Amity Park being a less Gothic version of Gotham is starting to hold water.

"Hello, Gotham!" A familiar grating voice echoes, "Welcome to my funtime jamboree!"

"Which one is this guy?" Val asks, still looking for the rogue.

"It's Riddler," Steph and Jason say at the same time.

Val groans, Sam rolling her eyes as the boys for some reason cheer.

"There are several bombs hidden throughout Gotham," Riddler continues over the police speaker system, "And each of them require some…shall be say creative problem solving!"

Steph gets tugged by the arm, pulled away before can even think about a way to separate naturally and disappear with Jason.

"Val?" Next to her, Jason has being herded by Sam, as Danny and Tucker conspire together over what looks like an old, beat up PDA.

"Danny and Tucker love escape rooms," Val explains, face scrunched up cutey in distaste, "I've been dragged to too many to count—"

"Wait—Riddler is too dangerous for citizens to—" Jason starts, trying to turn around to grab Danny, but is pushed forward by a surprisingly strong Sam.

"Yes, yes," Sam rolls her eyes, "We know, civilians etcetera and all that. Don't worry."

Steph and Jason try to argue, but are summarily stuffed into Steph's car—when did Val pick pocket her keys? Why is that so hot?

Before either of them can comprehend, Steph's been buckled into the driver's seat, Jason in the passenger, with the car somehow running.

The doors slam, and when both of them look through the passenger window, Sam has Tucker and Val in a rental car with her, Danny on his ecto-bike, already driving off.

Towards the commotion.

Steph and Jason share a look.

"What the fuck just happened?" Steph asks, stupefied.

"I didn't get Danny's number." Jason answers, equally confused but still buckling up and putting in a comm, "And you didn't even get to flirt."

"Hey!" Steph defends, putting in her own comm, "I'm not the one whose date thought they were asking the whole group to the movies!"

"Just drive," Jason growls, but it's lost in the sound of Steph revving her engine and their comms bursting into life with Babs' commanding voice and Duke's cheery timbre.

Riddler first, then dates.

Hopefully.

Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.

ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)

Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)

also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.

===

Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.

She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes. 

The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.

To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself. 

She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.

She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly? 

Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition. 

Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy. 

So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies. 

Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance. 

All in All?  It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all. 

It's the little things.

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

hey, im assuming its a mistake but just fyi the whole vague "noticing patterns" language is an antisemitic dogwhistle: https://www.tumblr.com/onethirdofimpossible/726829590062006272?source=share

no idea who the account you shared from is, just wanted to pass this on!

Okay so I got this message when I woke up this morning and decided to delete the post until I got around to checking out the OP's blog. Nothing about their blog has anything to do with antisemitic movements or even hints at potential content like that.

The original post is this

It's specifically referring to literature and academia (don't love that it's tagged with harry potter but I know that fandom is still tied up to those circles)

I think we have to be careful about policing speech and "calling out" things that may not actually be there. I get that the point of a dog whistle is that no one is supposed to understand what it means except the Nazis. But these people really aren't as slick as they think they are with this sort of thing.

A good example is the "okay" sign that got co-opted as a white power dog whistle. It's been used pretty obviously by white supremists who think they're being really clever about it but like... they're using it in the middle of a "white power" rally while waving Nazi flags. It's not exactly subtle.

Whereas we also used that sign in scuba diving to signal "okay", with a thumbs up being "ascend" (which confused the hell out of me as chronic "thumb up-er" when I was learning). I'm pretty sure when we're signaling "okay" 20m under the ocean we're not secretly signally "white power". Context is important.

This post and everyone reblogging it is not talking about any sort of conspiracy theory - just how being in a fandom and being excited about something makes you notice patterns and parallels. It's also kind of an "autism meme" too.

But idk... I know when people reach out to "let me know" about something, it's in good faith but it's... frustrating when the context is pretty obviously not that. Being paranoid about dog whistles is kind of the whole point of them.

White supremists/antisemites ect. like having power over others by making them question reality and gaslighting them. But again, they're usually about as subtle as a brick wall about this sort of thing. Not saying they can't be quiet about it sometimes but ... it usually isn't hard to spot. Especially on personal blogs.

Maybe I'm just tired that leftist spaces continue to try to tone police and "call out" their own in-groups *just in case* someone might be a secret Nazi while the real actual Nazis and Christian Nationalists are quite literally taking over the American government (which affects the entire world, especially countries where I live like Australia that are allies with the US and extremely influenced by their politics).

And actual Nazis aren't even using dog whistles any more, they're marching in the streets loud and proud because they feel empowered enough to do so...

So idk... maybe lets focus on that and work on mobilising and organising against what is going to be a really rough 4 years.... Though I wouldn't even be surprised if it goes beyond that, looking at past history and what happens when fascism takes power...

[schizononagesimus]

it's time to play: you can't find the post!

is it because...

-> you have brain damage and don't remember what medium the post was

-> you were drunk and deleted it

-> tumblr is being tumblr

[marauderingminnie]

So much of the current marauders fandom controversy wouldn’t even exist if people just tagged their posts right 😭😭

[angelicxi]

also not to to make vague and whining posts...but to make vague and whining posts, since I am actively sick and so dizzy I can barely stand upright for five minutes at a time, ergo sorely lack the required brainpower needed to express this w any of like, grace and precision, much less eloquence.

man oh man I am so fucking done with the way people approach art and media. how all of it is now perceived as "content" and the only metric by which they judge whether or not it is good is how hashtag relatable it is to the consumer, how the point of it is, or should be, as far as these people are concerned, to be Nice and Inoffensive and Digestible and About Me, The Specialest And Most Importantest Little Princeling, actually. how they perceive themselves as a customer, essentially. shopper weighing you, the artist / creative, like a product in his hands and tutting. and more than anything I loathe the incredibly dangerous entitlement bred by this attitude.

also, people have gotten waaaaayyyyyy too comfortable with just wandering into the DMs / inboxes of strangers they encounter at random on the internet with increasingly bizarre grievances. main character syndrome is sosososo real, deranged and common. I want to scream!! I AM screaming!!!!

[liquifiedfurby]

literally giggling and kicking my feet rn from researching birds.

[birdantlers]

A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.

(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)

it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it

...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..

Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.

I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.

(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")

“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.

“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”

The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.

I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?

I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.

Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.

Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.

So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.

Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!

Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol

What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.

I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.

Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.

Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.

How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’

i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.

I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.

I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”

….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.

No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.

If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.

His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.

We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.

Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.

You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.

The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.

And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.

You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.

Give a heads up.

Something.

But don’t. kill. the media.

The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.

Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.

I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.

It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.

Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.

If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.

And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.

Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.

the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.

The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.

Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.

Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.

If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.

•

Muting notifs

[artsysurvivor-nfr]

You're right, you don't owe your abuser sympathy. Your PTSD is valid; your trauma is valid; your reactions to it are valid. If someone is being abusive, it is good to call them out when you're in a safe position to. They deserve to have consequences for the abuse.

But are you a psychologist? Have you researched the symptoms and side effects of NPD? Are you sure it isn't another disorder that some of the symptoms might coincide with? Do you even know the percentage of people who are actually narcissistic? If you haven't done those things, have you heard of a licensed psychologist that diagnosed your abusers with NPD?

If not any of those things, why do you automatically assume your abuser has NPD? Can neurotypicals/people without cluster-b disorders not be abusive? Can they not rip your life apart just as much as narcissists can? Are people with cluster-b disorders the only people that can be abusers?

That's what the post is saying: That your abuser doesn't have to have a mental disorder to be abusive.

Nobody ever mentioned that mentally ill people are allowed to abuse and hurt whomever they want. They never said we should coddle them. They never said that mentally ill people are exempt from consequences. They never said that you should be nice to your abuser.

All they said was to use the right words for them because it could have an affect on other people who are working on themselves/innocent.

(Note: some people might've said what I said nobody said above. But they're a small percentage and don't represent what the original post, similar posts, or what I am saying).

I don't know who needs to hear this, but 99% of the time that ex of yours is not actually a narcissist or a sociopath simply because they sucked and you hate them. By using these words you are in fact demonizing actual mentally ill people, unlike your ex who is far more likely to just be an asshole

[simmireen]

The more poses you make as a pose creator, the more things you learn and the more things you see. 

Maybe you have seen my former post, maybe not. But I want to address again that stealing is not OK. 

I use and see a lot of poses almost everyday, I reblog and maintain the poses masterlist (@ts4-poses), I am a sims-storyteller that loves to pose with poses from other creators for my story and ofcourse, make my own poses to share. But also...

I recognize my flaws in my own poses, my poses are not perfect, I learn everyday, that's why I knew this pose was mine. But by now, we have found 15 posecreators that have been done the same to, by Simsulani. And maybe you have seen in Toys of Dukeness their patreon post there is possibly another pose creator KD89 doing the same to them. What led to them deleting all of their content in our community. And seeing something leave the community over this, is sad. We lost already so many talented creators due to this.  

You have to know, Simsulani @hellosimsulani has around 20k followers on her patreon and about 200 people that support her by paying money to her. No, I'm not jealous, I share my poses because I want you to use my poses in-game. I'm not here in any way to have any financial gain. And I know this is the case of many others on the list down here that were affected. We want to make you happy, to be able to tell your story. 

But this money (maybe even your money) that she is earning over other people's creations that she adjusts, is not earned in a fair way. 

She violates many of the other posecreators TOU's. 

Besides taking poses and adjusting them, she adds accessories to the patreon post instead of linking to people's pages. (@simmisstrait her letterboard in this post) That's okay if it’s deleted, but doing so when this creator is still active? That’s not ok (only if it's okay stated in their TOU)

In her own TOU she even states that you can't take her poses and re-upload somewhere else. But clearly it's okay to do it if she does it?

Please ! Do not re-upload my content. Do not claim my content as your own. Do not upload to Simsd0m/S!msf!nds Do not upload to another site without my permission.

After finding out about Toys of Dukeness and Acha-games, I found out my own pose got stolen and adjusted, and after that I got a lot of messages and pictures. People started helping investigate their own poses. These are the things we found. Thanks to @theserenadeofshadows her detective skills and her super SUPER hard and dedicated work this weekend (she is one of these 15), she made this amazing doc with the proof she and others found. At least a few posepacks are not her poses entirely. If we had more photographic memory skills and time, who knows what we could find out more. 

THE PROOF DOC 

NOTE: IT'S HEAVY UNDER INVESTIGATION STILL, but we wanted to show the proof we already have found! See and judge for yourself.

If you are a pose creator, please check if maybe one of your own poses got stolen, though she is very good at camouflaging it. It is incredibly hard to notice the stolen poses at first glance, it is a real frankenpose fiasco. @theserenadeofshadows tried to dissect the poses and find the original creators, and we found this stated in the doc, but know it is a slow and tedious process, so we can't find every pose and or posepack.

Groups and couples got split up and merged. Places in groups got swapped and/or rotated. Normal couples or single poses suddenly got a kid or partner (or both). Some expressions were made clownesque, exaggerated or the eyes closed. To make it even harder, she added accessories or removed them. She changed the body anatomy (resulting in broken poses sometimes) to make it appear different.

You can spot some weird clipping or gaps in the previews sometimes. 

We are not out to cancel someone, we stand for creativity and hope Simsulani will think about her actions and start making her own poses from scratch. Not stealing someone else's time because you need to create for your patrons. I know myself Patreon gives you a certain pressure to create for the people who pay for you, because you don't want to let them down. 

But doing this by stealing and putting it behind early access to earn a quick buck because you have no time or are too busy? 

Not OK. In no way. 

Thanks to everyone sharing and spreading the word and please keep doing so ❤️ 

[stonebutchery]

it's kind of baffling to me that entire sub-groups of queer folks endured a decade of being singled out and targeted for being asexual, aromantic, bisexual, pansexual, nonbinary, polyamorous, etc. and i have yet to see any substantial apologies from people who were directly responsible for causing genuine harm. i find it completely bizarre that there are so many people who want to sweep their past contributions to widespread lateral aggression toward specific queer groups under the rug like it didn't happen so they can wash their hands of it... there are people who are irreversibly traumatized because of this. there are people who took their lives because of it.

i'm wording the post like despite the fact that exclusionism targeting these groups (and more) continues to persist partly because it was a really frighteningly common trend to harass people just because they were ace, aro, bi, pan, nonbinary, poly, etc... and it's crazy to me that many of the people who were affected by this massive multi-pronged public online bullying campaign against the 'unacceptable types of queers' are the ones still receiving messages like "my url got put on an aphobe blocklist in 2016 because apparently a post i made making fun of asexuals got some teenage asexuals harassed and i still distrust asexuals to this day because of that" ...are you fucking kidding me?

we will never achieve any kind of unity as a queer community while we are insisting upon ignoring the hurt that lateral aggression has caused, and acting like the burden lies on the shoulders of the people who were harmed to forgive the people who harmed them and 'just move on', many of whom are not sorry for what they did! or they don't consider what they did to be wrong! how is that not deeply disturbing and troubling to more of you?

03/06/2024 edit: i’m putting a complete moratorium on this post because i am really sick and tired of having my point not only completely misconstrued and distorted entirely but also weaponized against transfems (particularly in replies i have decided to delete about how “ugh yes, exclusionism, and now transfems are bullying transmascs”) i find that really sickening and i’m demanding that it stop, and i can make it stop by turning off reblogs. so i have.

my objective in writing this post was never to request an apology from people who have been laterally-aggressive exclusionists in the past. i don’t think we’ll ever get more than a handful of apologies from those people, anyway. my point was that it was pretty terrifying to witness and experience a lot of lateral aggression that transferred from the real, in-person world to the deeply online spaces back into the real, in-person world in a really fucked up feedback loop and being a young queer person during this time and having that shape me, snd shape the experiences of my queer friends who have been traumatized by it.

however, it is absolutely unacceptable to me that the issue of transmisogyny is so blatantly overlooked by our entire community. for decades, transfems have experienced oppression and exclusion from transmisogyny-exempt women and queers. their exclusion from political queer liberation movements has caused many of the major schisms within our community we are still having arguments about to this day. if you want collective queer liberation, you must uplift transfems. there is no other option. you don’t get to write off all transfems just because one person who happened to be transfem was mean to you online or something.

i have answered and responded to way too many conspiracy-brained transmisogynist reactionaries to allow this post to keep fucking snowballing with people writing paragraphs in the tags about “transmisandry” or “transandrophobia.” please get your heads out of your asses.

this absolutely is the transmisogyny website, as always, and the place where all basic textual comprehension skills go to die, apparently.

[miclipse]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ princess & the fish.

pairing: rafayel x fem! reader

synopsis: rafayel’s dream of turning into a human had miraculously come true! but things didn't turn out like he had expected…

word count: 3.7k

cw: afab! reader, rafayel is a fish (literally, but he turns into a human), reader is a princess, nicknames used (princess, your highness), rafayel struggling to walk with legs, rafayel hates toes, very slight and brief abysswalker! rafayel reference (just one line), reader finds rafayel half-naked in her room, fluff

dt: everyone that wanted fishy rafayel (aka fifi) to turn into a human + the person in my asks asking if i was continuing this.

note: reupload because apparently my post didn’t show up in the tags :( but unfortunately that means the ask got deleted as well, sorry anon :(

likes reblogs & comments appreciated! <3

this all had to be a dream, right?

…actually, no. this was most definitely a nightmare, if anything.

because why else would rafayel be standing naked in your bedroom, the fishtank he once called his home now nothing but shattered glass scattered across your study table?

there was no logical explanation for this, rafayel thought to himself while struggling to manoeuvre around your room with his new pair of human appendages.

he spent at least ten minutes stumbling over his toes while trying to make his way to your bathroom door.

…seriously, why did humans even have a need for toes? and ten of them, at that!

when rafayel had finally, finally made it to the bathroom entrance, he spent another five minutes figuring out the mechanism behind how to open it.

turns out, the grand secret behind it was that he had to push the door, not pull.

once in the bathroom, rafayel was tempted to fill up your bathtub with water and just jump in for a swim, but he figured seeing a naked man with a towel wrapped around his waist would be a little less intense for you than having to see a fully naked stranger swimming around in your tub.

thus, rafayel opted to grab a spare towel from the cabinet just under the sink, carelessly tying it around his waist to hide his indecency before you came back from your royal duties.

rafayel spent yet another ten minutes trying to walk out of your bathroom (he nearly slipped at least twice but he refuses to talk about it) and towards the nearest furniture he could sit on without it breaking due to his new physique.

looking around your bedroom to ensure that there were no maids around to witness this phenomenon, rafayel plopped himself on the edge of your soft mattress.

resting his head on his fist, his eyebrows furrowed in the process.

this was not how he imagined things to go at all.

in all honesty, rafayel was pretty satisfied living life as your pet fish. though there were many pros and cons that came along with his new domestic life, he wouldn't have wished for things to be any different than how it was.

of course, there were times when rafayel would ponder to himself how life would be for him if he were to turn into a human and be able to properly talk with you.

but out of all the exaggerated and cliche scenarios rafayel had fantasized about during his free time (which was whenever you were not around), being naked with only a fluffy white towel tied around his waist as he dreadfully waited for you to return was definitely not one of them.

well, it probably was. but it was not at the top of his list, that was for sure.

but here came the real question—

how did he even turn into a human? there was no logical or scientific reason behind how all of this was possible. rafayel had never heard others talk about stories of fishes turning into humans either.

well, unless you included ariel from that little mermaid movie. but ariel was a mermaid, so it really was not exactly the same as rafayel’s current predicament.

and besides, rafayel didn’t think he knew or angered any shady sea witches back when he lived in the waters.

there was nothing he could really do at the moment. as much as rafayel wanted to sneak to the royal library to dig out some sacred books in order to do some research about his condition, he dared not imagine the consequences he would have to face if anyone caught him sneaking out of the princess’s private chambers with only a skimpy bath towel covering him from waist-down.

just the image of him getting beheaded by the royal guards was enough to convince rafayel not to leave your private chambers, knowing it was the safest place for him to be in right now.

so his only option now was to wait for his princess to return to her chambers so that he could try to explain the situation to you in hopes that your naive little brain could understand and help him out.

he was your beloved fish afterall, so surely you would find a way to help him, right?

an ear-piercing scream echoed loudly through the room.

rafayel's eyes snapped open in panic and immediate dread, sitting up from the bed frantically only to be met with a big white thing smacking his face.

as he made a clumsy attempt to back away from the bed and nearly tripping over his newly grown toes (human toes be damned), rafayel’s eyes wandered to the big white thing that was thrown at him.

it was your polar bear plushie, he noted.

rafayel then turned to look at the door, only to see you standing there looking like a frightened kitten, now holding a thick, hard-cover book ready to launch at him once more.

it was only then rafayel realised that he had accidentally fallen asleep in your bed while waiting for you to come back.

this was not good. not good at all.

“who… who are you?!” you shrieked out, preparing yourself to throw the book in his face within the next five seconds if he didn't respond.

“me? i’m…” without even realizing it, rafayel darted his eyes to look at your study table as he fell silent, his lips pursing together.

you gave him a look of skepticism before slowly following his gaze. the man watched as you let out a horrified gasp when you saw that your fishtank was nothing but shattered glass on the table.

“fifi!”

running to your study table, you stared at what once used to be fifi's home for the past three months, now nothing but broken shards scattered all across the table.

“you! what have you done to my fifi?”

rafayel backed up into the corner of the room when you pointed an accusatory finger at him, feeling very wronged by your assumption.

what, did you think he ate your fish or something?

“woah!”

to prevent his nose from breaking tonight, rafayel quickly moved his head to the side to narrowly dodge the book in your hands that came flying towards his face.

that was a close one.

“let's use words, shall we?”

before you had a chance to frantically look around your bedroom for a new deadly weapon to fling at rafayel's handsome face, he had to think of something believable, and fast.

“i’m asking you one last time, where. is. my. fish?”

your eyes narrowed and your eyebrows furrowed as you glared at rafayel as an attempt to threaten him.

rafayel doesn't really have the heart to tell you that your glare was nothing more than a little fly trying to square up to a frog.

not the best comparison, but you get it.

“well, if you're looking for fifi, i’m right here.” rafayel responded as nonchalantly as he could, desperately trying to hold back his laughter.

you shot him an incredulous look, obviously doubtful with his claim of being your pet fish. rafayel felt absolutely scrutinized under your gaze while you looked at him up and down.

“do you think i’m five?”

“well, given how you spend your nights talking to a fish like it's your newfound soulmate, i wouldn't doubt it.”

man, rafayel wished he could describe how proud he felt when he saw your jaw slacken and you gawk at him with wide eyes.

it felt so good finally being able to talk back to you, and in a way that you understood him too. rafayel picks this over ‘glub! glub! glub!’ anyday.

you looked around the room cautiously, before your eyes landed back on rafayel.

no one really knew that you spent your nights telling your baby fishy little bedtime stories.

…not unless this man in your room was fifi himself. it was a secret solely kept between you and fifi.

…still, it wouldn't hurt to double check, right?

“oh yeah? tell me something about fifi then.” you challenged, crossing your arms over your chest. you still felt doubtful over this whole situation. “anything at all.”

i mean, it wasn't everyday that you got to see your fish turn into a grown man (that was also naked, you observed), now a head taller than you.

rafayel smirked at your demand. oh boy, where should he start? he had many, many juicy secrets that he could spill to you. ones that he knew were only shared between you and your beloved fishy (him) in these very four walls.

but he was determined to embarrass the hell out of you, so he was thinking what exactly was the most embarrassing moment you've ever told him.

maybe he should start with that one time you started weeping your eyes out in front of his tank because you thought he was sick and about to die since he wasn't eating the kibbles you poured into his tank? (you were overfeeding him).

or perhaps that one time you told him you accidentally broke your mom's jewellery box while trying on her earrings and blamed it all on the maid instead?

oh. he couldn't forget the countless amounts of times you fell asleep sprawled over the study table, your hair looking as neat as a bird’s nest, drool escaping from the corner of your lips and dripping onto the sleeve of your nightgown as you snored the night away.

but the most memorable one of them all was…

“...remember that time when you tried to cut a piece of strawberry cake and dump it into my tank?” rafayel questioned, a smirk appearing on his lips as his eyebrow quirked upwards, anticipating the kind of reaction you’d give.

the way your eyes widened in horror and the tips of your ears started to tint in a dark red hue was enough for rafayel to conclude that he had won this round.

“only fifi would know that…” you mumbled out in utter disbelief. was this man standing in front of you really your pet fish of three months?

“exactly.” rafayel puffed out his chest proudly at your words. “but if you’re not convinced, i can tell you about that time when you tried to bring my fishtank to your bed so you could hug me to sleep—”

oh. not that. you desperately cut rafayel off mid-sentence.

“stop! stop, stop!” your face felt hot, as if you just ran a whole marathon with no breaks in between.

there was an awkward and tense silence lingering in the air, with you looking at your pet fish dead in the eyes.

“s.. so it really is you, fifi…” you managed to mutter out, albeit still in disbelief that your pet fish was now a grown man a head taller than you.

rafayel doesn’t have it in him to break the devastating piece of news to you that his name was actually ‘rafayel’ before you came along.

“affirmative.” fifi— or, rafayel, nodded his head without a beat of hesitation.

you both then proceeded to awkwardly stare at each other without a word, waiting for each other to break the tense silence.

eventually, rafayel was the one that broke the silence.

“so…” he sheepishly rubbed the nape of his neck, feeling like a fish out of the water (literally and figuratively). “has the shock died down yet?” he asked, hoping you were calm enough to have a proper conversation with him.

you blinked and glanced back at the broken fish tank a couple of times to make sure that rafayel was not some kind of crazy hallucination stemming from your lack of sleep recently.

“well, not really.”

“good enough for me.” rafayel casually bent down and picked up the weapons you used for your assassination attempt (your books and polar bear plushie), making his way to your study table to put the books back where they belong.

“i know you probably have a lot of questions, your highness,” rafayel’s gentle voice filled the room’s silence once again. “but i, too, don’t have the answers to them. i hope your highness can forgive me.”

he briefly glanced at you from his peripheral vision, a faint and apologetic smile ghosting his lips while he slotted the books back into the shelf.

you were still standing in the middle of the room, your eyes following rafayel’s figure while he was putting back your books. you still had the dumbfounded and surprised look from this whole ordeal.

when rafayel caught sight of you meekly nodding your head in silent agreement to his words, he took it as a sign to continue speaking.

“since you’re free tomorrow, how about your highness help a fishy out to find a way to turn me back?” he asked with a chuckle, making a final stop to your bed and gently placing your polar bear down by the pillows, now reunited with the rest of your fuzzy friends.

“how’d you know i’m—”

oh, that’s right. you told fifi at the start of this week that you had tomorrow to yourself. the realisation that you spent your nights practically telling this man (in his fish form) the a to z’s about your life started to settle in, coupled with embarrassment.

“oh.. right..” the corners of your lips twitched into an uncomfortable smile, trying to keep your cool despite the absurd situation unfolding before your very eyes.

“also, do you mind if i borrow a hoodie of yours or something? walking around with only a skimpy towel around my waist is a little uncomfortable.”

“ack!”

before you could protest, rafayel strutted towards your wardrobe and began rummaging through it like a stray mouse in search of a slab of cheese.

attempting to recollect your composure, you stammered out a remark in hopes to gain back some sort of control.

“h..hey! is this how you act in someone else’s bedchamber?”

rafayel halted his scavenger hunt for a brief moment.

“… i’ll remember for next time.”

…and he’s back to digging through your wardrobe for one of your oversized hoodies.

in the end, rafayel settled with one of your gray hoodies coupled with a pair of sweatpants he miraculously could fit in.

“what’s this?”

a look of confusion washed over his face as the fish stepped out of your bathroom, finally properly clothed.

his eyes were glued to the unfamiliar scene before him. a thick woven quilt was spread across the carpeted floor not far away from your bedframe, accompanied by two pillows and a neatly folded but thin blanket sitting on top of it.

“your new bed for the night.”

your response was as casual as inviting a friend over for a sleepover.

you gave his new bed a few soft pats, a gesture to coax him over, before making your way back to your own cozy haven.

“since you don’t fit in a fish tank anymore, i figured we have to come up with an alternative.”

rafayel watched as you tucked yourself into bed and fluffed up your pillows, getting ready to drift to dreamscape anytime from this point forward.

“yeah, well what if your maids see me?” his voice was full of skepticism as he approached his new bed, lifting up the blanket to fit into the warm cocoon.

“then i can tell them that you’re fifi.”

one of rafayel’s eyebrows quirked up in doubt and a hint of amusement.

“and will they buy it?”

“no.”

“…”

well, that was reassuring.

rafayel’s head was resting against the pillows now, completely unimpressed with your response while also trying to get used to sleeping outside of the water.

“well, but that’s something we’ll both deal with tomorrow.” you laughed nervously, leaning back against the plush pillows and turning your body so that you were laying on your side; facing rafayel with a faint smile ghosting your lips.

staring into your eyes like this made rafayel’s heart swell in an odd way. he didn’t know exactly how to put it to words, but the atmosphere of your bedroom felt dangerously intimate right now.

in fact, way too intimate for an owner and her pet fish to be having.

rafayel was no fool— he could tell how you seemed to be holding back more now that he had taken the form of a human. how the gaze you directed towards him still held a hint of love and affection amidst all of your other mixed emotions. you looked at him as if nothing had changed between the two of you, like he was still that tiny fish you had brought back home (kidnapped) three months ago.

“yeah… we should get some rest. we’ll be ransacking our brains a lot tomorrow.” rafayel agreed with a nod of his head, breaking eye contact first by turning his head to look up at the ceiling, trying to get rid of the dangerously growing intimacy dancing between the two of you.

his arm slid beneath his head to get into a more comfortable position for himself, still in disbelief that he was actually a human now.

he tried. keyword, tried to ignore the lingering feeling of not being able to bury his little fishy body in his favourite coral reef to fall asleep, and instead having to settle with sleeping on the cold hard ground with a paper-thin blanket that barely reached to the tip of his toes.

but in the end, the thought still greatly bothered him.

“tell me a bedtime story.”

…the words flew out of his mouth before rafayel could even comprehend what he was saying.

“i beg your pardon?” your expression morphed into one of astonishment.

“what? don’t you always go on and on about your day in front of my fishtank?” rafayel scoffed, turning his head back to face you. he had been kept awake against his will, forced to listen to your endless ramblings ever since you first kidnapped him.

he had grown so accustomed to your excited life updates that it was part of his daily routine now. rafayel always relied on your storytelling to help him get sleepy and prepare for bedtime, and he definitely wasn’t going to let this routine stop tonight just because he had grown a pair of legs out of thin air.

“… how about you tell me a bedtime story this time, fifi?”

your soft voice almost made rafayel wonder if he misheard what you had just said.

“hah, me? as if i have any tales that would fascinate you.” rafayel was quick to dismiss the idea of telling you a story.

one, bedtime storytelling was your thing. it always has been, and it always will be. as a fish, rafayel was habituated to just listening. i mean, he was a fish, there wasn’t much he could say to you in the first place. asking him for a sudden role reversal to play as the storyteller was beyond his expertise and comfort zone.

and two, his life out in the seas wasn’t as interesting or fascinating as whatever you were expecting.

or in other words, rafayel had no stories to tell in the first place.

“oh come on, i’m sure there’s some interesting stories about your life before you started living here.” you continued to persuade him further, trying to give him a metaphorical nudge to get him to open up.

rafayel really couldn’t resist when you talked to him in that soft and persuasive tone. you might as well grow a pair of fins and live in the ocean as a siren with how easily you allured him to obey your words.

“fine, fine, let me think of something,” the fish grumbled, his eyebrows furrowing together as he dug through his memories for anything worth mentioning to you.

entertaining a princess was hard work— rafayel was finally starting to understand the pressure of being in the presence of a princess like yourself. it was like there was an invisible expectation for him to uphold. one that was unspoken, but still anticipated in a way.

“does me being chased by an octopus sound entertaining enough for you, your highness?”

the way your smile grew, and your eyes held a hint of curiosity made rafayel let out a breath he didn’t even realise he had been holding.

so that was how he began telling you about the instance where he was chased by an octopus back when he was still adventuring around in the stray waters.

rafayel’s storytelling skills wasn’t top tiered as compared to yours. his story began awkward, his tone unnatural. this was not his forte, so he was basically a fish out of the water (once again, literally and figuratively).

however, the sounds of your soft giggles, hums of acknowledgement and occasional small nods of your head served to be the main catalyst for him to improve as the story progressed.

by the time the story reached its climax, he sounded more confident and sure of himself. he also was more natural when speaking and somehow, without even realising it, managed to lull you to dreamscape.

“...seriously? just as i was at the good part too.” rafayel muttered, feigning mild irritation when he saw that your eyes were closed, facial features relaxed, along with your breathing deep and slow.

rafayel let out a defeated sigh, lightly shaking his head before he turned his head to face back towards the ceiling again.

he finally understood how you always managed to fall asleep so quickly after telling him about your day— talking in such an excessive manner was… tiring. and now, he was feeling the growing fatigue about to consume him too.

he briefly snuck a glance at your sleeping form through his peripheral vision, the corners of his lips gently tugging upwards into a smile.

rafayel’s mind was tired, but his heart was filled to the brim with nothing but affection. affection that you had been showering him with for the past three months.

“no matter what form i take, you’ll still love me just the same, huh?”

he wasn't expecting an answer. he didn't need your verbal response to confirm his thoughts in the first place. the facts were as clear as day before his very eyes.

his vision was getting blurry, his breathing slowing down and his eyes feeling heavier with each blink.

rafayel vaguely remembered letting out one final whisper before everything fell to the darkness.

“…at least now i can finally tell you that i love you too, princess.”

all rights reserved © miclipse 2024. do not repost, plagiarize, copy, modify or translate my works on any platforms.

[frodothefair]

Attention all LOTR fans!

I believe myself to have been f-cked by the tumblr algorithm from the time of my blog's inception.

When I first started, just over a year ago, I made a "like or reblog this post if you like LOTR," to seek out people to follow, and to announce my presence.

I got notes in the very low double digits, whereas another LOTR blog that was also new at the time got HUNDREDS. Both of us barely had any content at the time.

I believe that tumblr users are simply not seeing my content due to something I did early on my blogging course. I don't believe myself to be under a shadow ban -- I think it's something else.

So prove me wrong, tumblr. If you see this post, please like or reblog if you are a LOTR blog, post about LOTR, or are simply interested in LOTR.

I am not necessarily looking for more followers. I just want to conduct an experiment to see if people are seeing my posts.

If I do not get a substantial amount of engagement on this post, I will simply delete my blog and start over. But I need to know if it's necessary before I pursue such a substantial undertaking.

[ofpd]

1st century roman siege of jerusalem dashboard simulator

🐮 barkamtza

why does this shit always happen to me

#oh my goddd the ONE time it seems like people actually wanna hang out with me. #turns out they meant to invite kamtza instead #everyone hates me and i was SO fucking nice i offered to pay for the party #god i'm so pathetic. kms kms kms #they're gonna pay for this i swear #delete later

0 notes

📜 zekharya-ben-avkolas

Ok so obv it's not ok to sacrifice a blemished calf but the blemish is just on the eyelid? So maybe it's ok? But also and i don't want people to start going around thinking that it's ok to sacrifice blemished animals. But the thing is that if i don't bar Kamtza will tell the Romans we insulted them and that will be bad probably. And like no one likes bar Kamtza anyway will people really miss him..... but ugh neither of these seem like good things to do i don't feel like it's my place to make a decision about this :/

32 notes

🏛 vespasian reblogged

🏺neronero

off to war wish me luck! 🇲🇪🏹

🏺neronero

nvm guys. ✡️✡️

🏛 vespasian

my turn lol

53 notes

🧑🏽‍🦳 not-an-airport reblogged

🧑🏽‍🦳 not-an-airport

Hey everyone! These are difficult times, and some friends and I have put together some mutual aid resources for our community to have access to wheat, barley, wine, salt, oil, and wood! More info below the cut. Take care of yourselves! 🫶

Read more

🧑🏽‍🦳 not-an-airport

fuck

7,235 notes

⚔️ biryonei-yerushalayim

anonymous asked:

Hey, I'm trying to ask this in good faith, and I hope you can take it that way. how can you possibly defend burning our grain stores. I understand that you want to radicalize more people but you're taking things too far. Jerusalem's blood is on your hands.

anon, what you need to understand is that the blame for the carnage in jerusalem lies primarily in the hands of the roman invaders and secondarily in the hands of the rabbis for refusing to resist. would you have told the hashmonaim not to resist their oppressors by any means necessary? just because this is getting inconvenient for you doesn't mean we shouldn't be doing it. it's frankly offensive that you'd imply that we, the defenders of jerusalem, should incur any blame for her current state.

#biryonim.answer #grain storage discourse

231 notes

🛡 goel-yisrael

did anyone else see the "zealot blocklist" going around lmaooo

#how do these liberals expect anyone to take them seriously #do they not have anything better to do.

7 notes

📚 stammaim reblogged

stopbeingpoor-deactivated3830102

ughh why is my servant so incompetent! i deserve the best flour why doesn't he get it...

stopbeingpoor

ykw i'll go get some myself. i'm desperate at this point i gotta do something

stopbeingpoor

EWWWW update: i stepped in something NASTY. this is why i don't fucking go out oh my god im gonna die

stopbeingpoor

gonna throw my gold & silver away for the good of the peasants or whatever it's not like it's any use to me when im literally dying -_-

📚 stammaim

lmao look at this it's exactly what yehezkel was talking about! ur gold won't save you!

#yehezkel #marta b. baitos

162 notes

🕎 yalla-hapoel

🌿 amicus-iudaeorum asked:

Hey, love your posts! They're very informative about the Jewish perspective on this war. I'm just wondering whether you condemn the actions of the zealots? I don't really feel comfortable following someone who supports that.

are you fr.

#if youre seriously concerned about this idt this is the blog for you i fear

28 notes

🛡 goel-yisrael reblogged

📖 ben-zakkai

⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️ lol

🛡 goel-yisrael

? what does this mean

🗡 abbasikkara

dw about it bestie

🛡 goel-yisrael

ok 💗 yay 💗

6 notes

👩🏽‍🌾 discoursedumpblog

I've compiled a list of some of the most rabid zealots on this website. Remember, don't engage, just block and move on.

Read more

152 notes

🏛 vespasian reblogged

🏛 vespasian

some jew got an audience with me & called me king (im literally not lol thats so disrespectful to the actual king + if i was king then he shouldve met w me much earlier??), i think i should kill him

🏛 vespasian

AND my shoe is being so annoying. horrible day 👎

📖 ben-zakkai

omg just came across this old post

🏛 vespasian

OMG sorry i don't mean it anymore 🙏

14 notes

🫒 a-simple-yid

yirmiyahu tzadak...

#not to pretentiously quote tanakh but literally like. #hashiveinu hashem eilekha venashuva hadeish yameinu kekedem.

3 notes

[rishiguro]

HAIKYUU BOYS WHEN THEY THROW THEIR WEDDING RING

ft. bokuto; suna; atsumu: kuroo; ushijima

a/n: the fact that i posted this exact prompt on my deleted blog but i don't remember it anymore—

jjk version

it was no secret that BOKUTO sometimes had problems controlling his emotions. he wasn't necessarily as affected by them as he was in high school, but there were enough moments that made him feel ashamed when he thought about them; just like he did right now. he was sobbing violently, his arms pressing you as close to you as ohysically possible. he wailed apologies, only stopping to take a breath every once in a while. he snapped out of his anger the moment the ring left his hand, but he was afraid that the damage couldn't be undone. he could only beg, proclaiming his love for you over and over, even if he knew that his behaviour just disproved his claims.

arguing with SUNA was tiresome. it was like he never even cared, not being attentive and only brushing you off. he never thought about the impact of his words once he did answer you, trying to get you off his back as soon as possible and with any means necessary. but even he understood when he went too far. he realized it when you took a deep breath, muttering something that he could not understand and turned around, disappearing into the bedroom only to come out a few minutes later with a bag over your shoulder, not even sparing him a glance as you rushed out the door. he clenched his jaw, picking the ring up and clenching his fist, staring out the window with a heavy chest.

ATSUMU was a prideful and confident person, he hated being confronted with his faults. he never really reacted well afterwards, either snickering a comment back or just waving the criticism off. no one was safe from this side of him, not even you. but he wasn't an idiot either. he saw the way your face fell when his ring landed on the floor, how you were shaking as you went and picked it up, only to retreat into the bedroom silently. he stayed still, not even daring to move an inch, only looking at the place you stood just a second ago. how did he let it go this far?

KUROO hated arguing and the yelling that came with it. he hated the irrational things he says during them, how every sense of reason is being thrown into the wind just to get to you because of his pride. and right after he threw his wedding ring across the room and stormed out, slamming the door behind him, he broke down, hugging his knees as he cried. he didn't know what came over him, he didn't know why he would ever think that what he did was okay but how could he face you after what he had done?

it was rare that arguments with USHIJIMA got so heated. you barely ended up shouting at each other, much less underline your words with some kind of big gestures. so it was even a bigger shock when he raised his voice at you, fiddling with the ring on his finger until throwing it away with some accusatory yell. you were too shocked to even say anything, only extending your arms in front of you to protect yourself as you stared at him with big eyes. he wanted to step closer, he wanted to hug you, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness; anything so that you wouldn't look so afraid of him anymore.

reblogs are appreciated

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Bossy Play (CEO!Bucky Barnes)

Summary: You meet your new boss.

Warnings: misogyny

WC: 459

A/N: the original post of this had almost 500 notes. i deleted it on a whim some years back and i've regretted it ever since because I knew it would have been a mistake. SO hopefully this becomes a sucess again <3 please reblog if you enjoyed <3 I'm definitely thinking of continuing this but only if people reblog/comment.

Read on Ao3!

--

“So, who do you think is replacing Pepper?” You asked, twiddling with your pen as you turned around in your chair to look at Misty Knight.

She scoffed as she drunk from her cup of coffee. “I heard that the person they’re replacing her with is a military Sargent; strict and all.”

“Man or woman?” 

She shrugged. “Nat, what did you hear?” 

Nat’s bright red hair popped up from her cubicle as she leaned over to lean against the wall that separated her from Misty. “I heard they’ve already got a list of people to fire. Pepper said he had a terrible temper and wasn’t someone to joke around with.”

“But-” the girls around you became quiet as the unmistakable sound of the elevators opening up down the hall had come to your ears. A few heartbeats and around the corner a handsome man strolled through, a satchel slung on his shoulders, cup of coffee in his left hand.

“Why’s he only wearing one glove?” Misty asked as the man silently strolled down the hallway to Pepper Potts’ previous office. “It’s not even cold enough for that outside.”

“Maybe he’s got a disease.” Nat smirked. However, when the man returned, she quickly sat in her cubicle.

“My name is James Barnes,” he announced, placing his hands behind his back .”I know I’m new here. But I plan on getting to know each and every one of you personally in the coming weeks. You-” he pointed to Nat and beckoned her over to him.

She quickly stood up and walked over to him. “What’s your name?”

“Natalia Romanov” 

He smiled. “Fetch me a fresh Caesar salad from the lobby downstairs, will you?”

She opened her mouth a few times without speaking.

“Cat got your tongue?” He cocked his head to the left. “Hard of hearing?”

“No, Mr. Barnes.” She bowed her head before walking to the elevator.

He called each of your coworkers one by one and tasked them with silly tasks. When he called you name, you were annoyed at being distracted by his constant talking. “Follow me.” Confused, you followed him as he led you to his office and closed his door. “Sit.” you obliged. “I’m going to assume you’re Y/N Y/L/N, am I correct?”

“How do you…?” you became quiet as he grabbed his clipboard from his desk and flipped it around to show you. The chart displayed every one of your cubicles and the names of your coworkers.  “If you knew our names already, then why introduce us like we’re in school?”

“I enjoy a good prank or two every so often.” He smirked. “I want you as my assistant Do you agree?”

Blinking at the sudden playful tone he bore, you nodded. 

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Time for a serious discussion.

It's genuinely upsetting to me how toxic the Hazbin Hotel fandom has been getting in recent months.

At no point should you ship two characters to the point that you send creators death threats because they wrote a Vox x Fem!Reader fic and you ship RadioStatic. Shipping Vox and Alastor because of their currently (mostly) unexplained past is totally cool. I love the fanart. I love the fics.

But the bullying isn't okay. The death threats most certainly are not okay.

Words hurt. And while that may be the intention, everyone handles words differently.

A fanfiction is almost never that serious.

A fanfiction is NEVER worth coming for someone's writing style, personal insecurities, etc. NEVER EVER EVER.

I've seen blogs I've followed for years deactivate their blogs entirely because they got the courage to post their FANTASTIC WRITING and got tons of hate/backlash because there's people out there who believe that RadioApple, RadioStatic, ect. are the only acceptable things to write for.

I've seen blogs go on hiatus for months at a time because someone bullied them for liking and writing for Hazbin Hotel.

It needs to stop.

A whole bunch of you are acting like CHILDREN over a cartoon made for ADULTS, all because of a non-canon ship.

You're on Tumblr, Toots. You're gonna see x reader fics. You're gonna see x oc fics. You're gonna see oc fanart with canon characters. You're gonna see just about everything.

If you want specific fics related to a specific ship, look up the tags for that ship and read those fics but don't degrade someone who put a piece of their soul into a fic all because you think a Samsung TV should fuck a stag instead of the reader.

Do. . . Do you realize how little sense that makes. . ?

If you see something you like: like, reblog, comment

If you see something you don't like: FUCKIN SCROLL AWAY

For the love of Lucifer's cute little tight ass, fix this fandom. I refuse to see it end up with the same toxicity that the Stranger Things and Marauders fandoms ended up with.

FOR. THE. VERY. SAME. REASONS.

I'm an extremely nice person, my fellow Hazbin writing friends can attest to that. . . But if y'all keep bullying these talented creators into deleting/deactivating their blogs, I'M GONNA LOSE MY MIND 😭

It costs literally nothing to be kind. So be kind. Or else.

Xoxo, Silver ♡

Tagging the big three so it this gets seen.