#if this isn’t incentive enough to get you people watching i don’t know what is…
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i’m 😵💫😵💫😵💫 not okay.
#top boy#spoilers#top boy spoilers#if this isn’t incentive enough to get you people watching i don’t know what is…#like i’m mostly shouting into a void here!!!#kim was right nobody wants to WORK anymore 🙄#not like i do 🧎🏻♀️
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I really wish it was talked about more how exhausting it is to constantly have your phone selling your data on things that are so personal. My phone is listening in on my therapy appointments and getting Reels on depression. Speaking about how I’m afraid my cat may have cancer and being fed Tiktok video algorithm videos of people in hospice, their life before & after diagnosis, confessing to a friend how you’re starting to get physical effects from being overweight and now finding a slew of workout recommendations & finspo. I don’t get to be human, because there is an all-seeing group of numbers who are trying to recreate my human experience for me. Interspersed with Wegovy ads, Temu trash, the AI Coca Cola slop. It makes me and millions of other people feel alone. A product to a company I have no idea I was a line item more. Worthy only with my eyes, tracking every millisecond I watch a storytime about the worst day of someone’s life. This is not how life is supposed to be like. But hey, at least if I get more apathetic, I can be sold for another Better Help ad, self-conscious to be sold for a HelloFresh subscription, or if I’m lucky enough to be shown 15 minutes into scrolling, content from a friend so I can have the algorithm push a sponsored VRBO video of a cool experience to have with friends. Self-censorship like unalive or G@za just to get our points across so the platform can trick some corporation into believing it's a safe platform to sell on.
I’ve been deleting social media apps from my phone when I don’t use it. I “ask” apps to disable the location, microphone & camera access, which should never be a suggestion. I click “only necessary” cookies when visiting sites even if I have to press that button every time a new page loads on their domain. I avoid Facebook almost altogether due to its predilection for AI engagement bait. I stopped using Twitter last year after the rage bait & bot problem became apparent. I was asked by someone much younger than me why Tumblr feels like the old internet, and I said without really thinking about it, there isn’t a financial incentive for people to be upset with each other. And you know what, as poignant as it was, it made me realize why I’ve spent most of my time on Tumblr lately. Because I feel less like a product.
So yes, maybe it is harder to get a hold of me. Maybe I don’t post on social media like I used to. But I’m trying to find even the smallest modicum of control over and peace over a piece of technology I need for my livelihood. And I can’t believe, over 20 years after it’s mass public introduction, we still have lawmakers who feign ignorance on how the internet works to not enact true change in the US. All while the suicide rate for children rises, having thousands of professionals point to social media algorithms, just to be struck down by one billionaire cuck making a well-placed & timed donation. Say I'm preaching to the choir, talking to my echo chamber, but I'm not the one who coded the echo chamber.
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First Blood
Knock knock knock
Carmine:*unpacking* Door is unlocked.
Ruby:*peeks in* Yo.
Carmine:Hey. Something up?
Ruby:Nothing really. Just…checking in. Gotta get used to seeing you in the house again.
Carmine:I guess three years has gone by. Room feels a little smaller.
Ruby:You’re bigger. Practically my height. At this rate you’ll be taller than your dad before I know it.
Carmine:Pfft, like that will ever happen.
Ruby:How’s Oz?
Carmine:Probably how you remember him. It’s not like you didn’t check in.
Ruby:….
Carmine:Yeah I’m aware. Even if Oz hadn’t told me, you’re not the type of person to leave their kid fending for themselves.
Ruby:True enough. So, did he tell you our arrangement?
Carmine:No. All I know is there was a limit to missions I could on within a time period. My general behavior if I did anything crazy. Also-
Ruby:Mission number 126.
Carmine:…
Ruby:I’m gonna make this clear, this isn’t me nagging you. It’s a wellness check. Did Oz tell you I punched him in the face after he told me?
Carmine whipped her head to see Ruby casually shrug. The doting mother sat on Carmine’s bed and invited her take a seat beside her.
Ruby:Sooooo, you took a bounty mission. How’d you swing that?
xxxxxxxx
[Oz’s Office]
Carmine:REJECTED!?
Oz:Yes, as in not allowed. Pick another.
Carmine:Last time I checked, you were teaching me to use my skills where I needed. I’ve done your search and destroys, been a valuable bodyguard, and escorted the children to school hundreds of times because I understood those were important. “A huntsman should be flexible.”
Oz:Precisely, but not impatient. Help comes in many forms and despite what you think, I still believe the best form of it involves alternative methods.
Carmine:But you’ve never shied from murder either, Legend of Remnant. Your good deeds have many stories written and red.
Oz:Yes, and they were my stories. Taking down a bandit leader is not only a dangerous task, but one that tends to have only one ending. It’s not to be taken lightly. You’re still young and-
Carmine:Let’s skip my mother’s speech, shall we?
The man watched his disciple put her hands on his desk and stare dagger at him from behind red contacts that hid her true power.
Carmine:I didn’t run all the way here to be denied progress. I could’ve stayed in Vacou for that. A woman and her thugs have been taking lives lightly. Despite several attempts, they escape. Sounds like perfect training for the end goal.
Oz:Carmine-
Carmine:I’m gonna have to kill someone eventually. Last time I checked, Cinder and her thugs don’t like talking over their feelings.
Oz:I made a promise to your mother to train you correctly and fair. This mission isn’t training. It’s a turning point. I’m not gonna make you into something you or your mother won’t be proud of. I-
Carmine:Oscar, I’m not talking to you.
The man’s heart wavered, his eyes widening. Carmine took it a step forward, stepping on to the desk and swinging her legs around it to sit. Her feet rested on his legs and she dared to lean closer, her eyes never losing their shine.
Carmine:You owe a lot to my mother, so do I. However, let’s stop pretending you only took me in as a favor. The truth is you’re excited I’m here, aren’t you?
Oz:….
Carmine:Mom is a fantastic hero. Better than you in every way, and despite how proud that makes you, it’s not what you wanted. It’s not what’s needed. You want evil tracked and put down. That’s why you call us “Huntsman” and not heroes. You’ve always trained others to kill if necessary. Mom got Salem, but it must grind your gears a little that she let Cinder flea like a dog once. I doubt she’ll make that mistake again, but it never hurts to increase the odds of success.
Oz:Your mother doesn’t need incentive to kill Cinder. It’s why the witch hides and moves silently.
Carmine:Fair, you have your huntress for Cinder and Neo for that matter, but her thugs, the people with info moving about, my brother? If he gets ahold of mom before she gets Cinder, we’re both angry and miserable.
Oz:Is that all you have to say? You forget your entire family is remarkable. I doubt they will win.
Carmine:You never answered my question. *leans back* Mom told me how you met by the way. Tell me, what feels more incredible. The day you met a silver eyed warrior ready to change the world, or meeting me, the silver eyed warrior you can make into the exact huntsman you’ve always wanted and more? Mark my words, I’ll be everything you wanted my mom to be, so stop pretending you’re not happy I’m around and let’s get to hunting.
Cold and vexing words given by an angry girl seeking out evil to hunt without mercy, yet despite it all, her eyes never dimmed.
Oz:You understand I will not hide the job from your mother?
Carmine:That’s fine.
Oz:And that you’ll see ugliness that you might regret?
Carmine:If it means I win in the end .
Oz:And what is winning to you?
Carmine:Protecting everything I want.
Oz:….It would appear I should apologize. You resemble your mother and have her talents, but that may be where the similarities end. The rest however…well, let’s just say their eyes were just as terrifying.
xxxxxx
Carmine:He’s logical, despite being sentimental. People were dying and I could help. That simple really. I’m sure Goodwitch gave you my report and post mission evaluation.
Ruby:I’m not that snoopy. She told me but I didn’t read anything. I trust you, honest. How many?
Carmine:Only the leader. She was a huntress; a pretty tough one too. If she had been easy then I would’ve had more options. The other bandits were small fry and gave up pretty quickly when she went down. Can’t say they all made it out. Grimm.
Ruby:That’s practically unavoidable. Don’t put that on your shoulders. As for the leader, how’d it make you fe-
Carmine:Bad. Not a fan at all, but I hated seeing the people she caged more. Mom, I get it, okay? This isn’t kids stuff and I definitely don’t enjoy bounty missions. I just needed to know for certain I’m not gonna choke in dire situations.
Ruby:Is that why you only went on the one?
Carmine:Believe it or not, I actually want you to look at me and not feel disappointed.
Ruby:I never will be. I’m just scared is all.
She wraps her arm around her daughter and hugs her gently, keeping her close to the heart.
Ruby:Carmine, I only ask two things from you. Don’t let this work take you from me, and live a life you’re proud of. It’s harder than it sounds but makes things easier.
Carmine:*closes eyes* I promise. I love you.
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entertainment journalism and content farming
If it wasn’t apparent by now, I’ve parted ways with Comic Book Resources. There are no hard feelings, and it’s mostly just because I got a full-time job and the payoff wasn’t worth squeezing it into my busy schedule (and, quite frankly, said full-time job has been… taxing on my mental health for reasons I’d rather not get into yet). I kept thinking maybe I’d have the spoons to do more, but I didn’t, and that’s probably okay in the long run.
Now that I’m not part of the company, though, I wanted to say something about something. It’s not particularly original, and it can apply to media beyond specifically entertainment-focused news/features websites, but, I dunno, I wanted to talk about it.
Content farming.
That’s what I’m talking about.
So much of the focus in media production (particularly websites and videos) is on SEO (search engine optimization) and getting clicks and staying relevant. This can be good if you’re interested in trending topics, because you’ll definitely be able to find what you’re looking for, but it also means a lot of rehashing, keyword-stuffing, appealing to the lowest common denominator, and disinterest in weird or niche or obscure topics.
This isn’t just a CBR problem. I’ve seen it across entertainment journalism sites and trending pages on Instagram and YouTube. I’m sure it’s prevalent elsewhere, too.
If your goal is to produce content to get money, then I guess this is effective enough. You get clicks, you get hits, you get money. (And when I say “you,” I mean the site owners/higher-ups: make no mistake, the people producing the content are making laughably little money. More on this in a second.) But it harms the quality of the content you produce, in my opinion.
Some of my favorite articles that I wrote for CBR got laughably little attention. I’m not sure if this is because they weren’t actually interesting to a lot of people or because of algorithms or because the higher-ups thought they wouldn’t perform well and didn’t promote them as much or what, but it’s very frustrating.
The article I wrote about Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness and the MCU’s motherhood problem was genuinely something I was really proud of, and I thought it was pretty relevant and important, but for whatever reason it got a fraction of the reach or hits. The article I wrote about the Dark Willow trope (also pertaining to Multiverse of Madness, but also discussing Daenerys, Willow herself, Nico from Runaways, and how they tried to tease that they were doing this with Rey from Star Wars) got a big bunch of hits, but for some reason they went in really hard on parts of what I was discussing (Buffy, Star Wars) and underplayed Multiverse of Madness itself in the headline/image/etc. and when I dared to read comments on a repost link all of them were from dudebros who said that I was desperate to be persecuted and called me an infant for not understanding that stories have conflicts. Am I saying that CBR framed it the way they did because they knew it would make people mad and in doing so underplayed the actual point I was trying to make? Not definitively, but in conjunction with the other half of that point (the other article) performing so poorly, it does kind of feel like they prioritize controversy over content or trying to actually take interesting stances.
Now the money thing.
When I started for CBR they paid per word (fractions of pennies) and per hit (fractions of pennies). They moved to a purely per hit model (still paying fractions of pennies) and offered incentives for posting dozens of articles in a short period of time. I don’t know if you know this about entertainment journalism, but if you want to write 30+ things a month, even short things, you would basically have to spend all of the hours you weren’t writing watching things. And watching current things, and watching things you could make a lot of points about.
It’s basically impossible to write for a site like this and make more than pocket change (unless, again, you’re literally just consuming media and cranking out articles and doing Nothing Else). That’s my point. And per the above, even if you were really proud about, say, an article you wrote about a female character deserving better, it might (would probably) still perform drastically less well than an article about whether Iron Man or Thanos would win in a farting contest.
Freelance rates in general aren’t great; creators in general are undervalued and underpaid. I’ve done some cursory research, though, and it’s considered pretty standard to charge between .20-.30 cents per word… for a 1000+ word article. That means that even the low end of that would net you $200 per piece.
In my time at CBR, I made a paycheck that went into the triple digits once.
I wasn’t writing a ton of articles. I was doing a couple a week for a while, and it was during that period that I hit the triple digits. But using industry standards, that would be an okay job. Maybe like $200-400 a week, $800-1600 a month. I don’t think I made $1600 the entire 2+ years I wrote for them.
This isn’t a secret. The pay rates are in the job ads and stuff. (Standard industry pay rates are not, but those also aren’t a secret.)
Once I had a real job, the motivation to crank out articles and make roughly per two-week paycheck what I make in an hour or two at said job dwindled. The push to focus on Trending Topics (some of which, frankly, I don’t give a shit about) and stuff headings/articles with keywords and pointless backlinks and social media embeds didn’t help.
And yeah, I admit I didn’t directly quit for a while. But I’ve had some shit going on and it honestly hasn’t been at the forefront of my mind. We parted amicably enough, so I’m not too worried. (And it’s not like I’m going to use anyone at the company as a reference, since I didn’t actually work with anyone enough to know more than their names, pronouns, and job title, if that.)
I am grateful for the opportunity at CBR. It’s super cool that I got an official byline and that I got paid at least pennies for doing something I like. But the way that they produce content and the way I want to produce content don’t really mesh. Maybe (hopefully) I’ll find a freelancing/writing gig that’s a little more in line with my creative process and interests, and now I have a clearer idea of what those are.
And maybe let’s start paying artists better and prioritizing the content of the content. That too.
(For the record, this wasn’t edited or thought out. It’s just some thoughts I’ve been thinking.)
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“i don’t see a problem with that… besides, i can’t say i’ve ever been very successful with people either. turns out i’m much better at putting words on a page than saying them out loud.” it must be a huge disappointment for anyone that’s been a fan of their work before meeting them to realise that whatever talent they possess for weaving stories and writing witty dialogue does not translate well in real life. she’s never managed to be as funny as her main characters or as smooth as the love interests and after a while, she had no real choice but to embrace it. you’ve got to work with what you have. “you have three dogs?” their brows lift in surprise and maybe a hint of alarm. “god, how do you have any energy left? i only have arlo and sometimes i feel like he never stops.” a long breath is exhaled, their admiration for the man rising further. “you know, i already thought you were pretty impressive and now, even more so.” being surrounded by animals at work and at home… he must have the patience of a saint, although it probably helps that his furry friends are adorable in their own right. that’s usually a good enough incentive. there have been plenty of times when arlo has begun to incessantly bark at nothing or refuses to settle down, yet she can’t find it in herself to be truly angry once she catches a glimpse of his little face. “oh, is that the case?” watching as he leads the eager dog towards the treats, their head shakes like a parent watching their child attach themselves to someone new. what a traitor. “i suddenly feel very used, but i can’t say i blame you for wanting to keep him around. if i had to choose between us, i might do the same.” isn’t this one of the reasons why people get a pet to begin with; as a way to bond with others and make new friends? to be honest, emily had never considered that option when she first brought arlo home — like she said, interacting with people for an extended period of time isn’t something she’s great at, nor seeks out — but it seems to be working regardless. without her pet, there’s no way she and theo would be talking right now. “i am, i know. even when he’s packing his bags to leave me behind because someone else gave him a little attention, i do love him.” how could they not? he’s such a sweet thing and it’s already hard to remember a time when he wasn’t around. “thank you for indulging him for a while. i think he’s actually gotten more energetic since coming here, so we might have to extend our walk after all.”
"No, I don't think that's irrational at all. You have no way of knowing if something is serious. Personally, I think it's better to be worried about something, and find out that it's not serious, rather than not worry too much, only for it to have been something that is serious, but it might have been too late to do anything about it. You're doing fine." With a reassuring smile on his face, Theo continued to pet Arlo. "Yeah, it's pretty much my whole life, doting on cute little animals on a daily basis." He chuckled, looking up to meet her gaze for a brief moment. "Very cute? Really? Well, that's a first. Most people find it quite concerning that I have my way with animals, and not people. I haven't had much luck." He admitted with a shrug of his shoulders, letting out another chuckle before he returned his gaze towards the pup. "But that's because animals are much better than humans. They're much more fun to hang out with." Perhaps it was because he had spent so much of his childhood being surrounded by animals, but Theo had always found himself preferring the company of animals than people. Not that it meant that he did not enjoy the company of people, but he had often viewed animals as kindred spirits. It was hard not to. "I've got three dogs, actually. Arthur's the oldest, he's a Siberian Husky. He's a giant, but he's gentle. Then there's Willa. She's a Pembroke Welsh Corgi, an absolute sweetheart. The youngest one is Gemma, a Pomeranian. She's a menace, but I love her." Theo replied, beaming at her as he spoke of his three dogs. Seeing how easy it had been for Emily to cave upon seeing Arlo's face, he could not help but let out laugh. "Come on, mate." He rose to his feet, motioning the pup behind the desk, and reaching for the pack of dog treats that the nurses had kept on one of the shelves. "Hey, that's kind of the point. We love him too much, and we don't want him to leave. You can leave him here with us, and we'll just keep him all to ourselves. Maybe if you ask nicely, we might let you come over to see him every once in a while." He remarked, shooting her a wink before he knelt down, and handed Arlo a treat. "There you go, buddy. That's a good boy. Are you going to stay with us, Arlo? Are you going to stay here?" Theo laughed as he watched the little pup bouncing around with so much energy, giving him a few more belly rubs for a good measure before he rose back to his feet. "He's a precious little thing. You are very lucky to have him."
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For Beyblade OC creators - Get to know your OC
Pick your own beyblade OC and answer these questions. I see loads of art of OCs but I would love to know more about the OCs that are in the Beyblade fandom. I just think this would be fun to do. Tag with Beyblade OC character prompt.
1. Name:
2. Age:
3. What does your OC look like?
4. Nationality?
5. Best Friend?
6. Favourite person?
7. Romantic interest?
8. Hobby?
9. Morning or Night?
10. Favourite drink?
11. Favourite article of clothing?
12. What are some of your OC’s weaknesses?
13. Beyblade fan or not? Why?
14. It’s a rainy afternoon, there’s a howling wind and the lights are flickering, what does your OC do?
15. What is your favourite scene involving your OC in regards the series or fanfiction?
16. Does your OC watch movies? Which one is your OC’s favourite?
17. When watching a tournament, which blader does your OC cheer for over all others? Now who would your OC bet on to win?
18. Something unique about your OC?
19. Would your OC stay up all night skyping with a friend? Or do they prefer sleep?
20. Now tell me your OC’s background. How did they get involved in the world of Beyblade?
And now link to where I can find your OC.
For Beyblade OC creators - Get to know your OC
1. Name? Amber Benson
2. Age? 15 in Saving, 17/18 in SLTS
3. What does your OC look like? Longish black hair, ochre eyes, tanned skin, half Spanish, half Irish, lends itself to an interesting match up of features. 5ft 3 (probably less without shoes but when she’s that short she’s never going to measure herself), boyish figure that she bemoans quite a bit. When you know someone like Mariam, you get a complex.
4. Nationality? Irish?
5. Best friend? Hilary Tachibana & Ian Papov in Saving (she never formed close enough bonds previously, courtesy of a voice in her head making things a tad awkward) & Tala Valkov, Ruin Mulryan (they’re more like her parental besties) and Miyami Kinomiya in SLTS
6. Favourite Person? In all universes, Nana Molly. Her father’s mother and the matriarch of the family. No nonsense woman who puts family first above everything else, and family is more than just blood and DNA to her.
7. Romantic Interest? Kai Hiwatari. At this point he just suffers in silence.
8. Hobby? Ice Hockey in SLTS, Saving Ireland in Saving??? She also likes singing, and playing video games with Ian.
9. Morning or Night? Night.
10. Favourite drink? Tea
11. Favourite article of clothing? The infamous sneakers that are all but falling apart and really need to be dumped.
12. OC weaknesses? Amber is reckless to a fault. She never thinks things through properly, just jumps feet first and hopes to go she’ll not die. This also applies to emotionally too, she doesn’t process her emotions, she’ll lash out first, think about it later. That causes her endless problems. She’ll climb on her high horse where she is obviously right — so it’s good she’s surrounded herself with people who have no problem is calling her out on her hypocrisy so that she has to reassess and grow as a person. She’s not irrevocably flawed, but she’s enough of an asshole for the others to accept her into their ranks.
13. Beyblade fan or not? Why? Not. She missed the hype train on the sport and really doesn’t understand the fascination with a spinning top. Most of that comes down to sheer ignorance, she just doesn’t know anything about it, and then sheer stubbornness where she doesn’t want to know. When she does learn about it, it scares her, her experience with beyblading isn’t the best. The people are great though, she’s a fan of them, but not actually the sport. Once they stop playing, she’ll give zero shits about it. Also her closest friends are Hilary, Ian and Mariam, all of whom don’t spend time in the dish, so there’s no incentive to get into it.
14. It’s a rainy afternoon, there’s a howling wind and the lights are flickering, what does your OC do? ((Runs and finds Heathcliff??? What was I thinking with that question?)) Amber charges everything in case the electricity goes out and then bunkers down with a cup of tea, maybe plays a video game, lights a fire (in a fireplace, she’s not an arsonist). Sends endless memes to Ian and explains them to Hilary — also bugs Kai.
15. What is your favourite scene involving your OC in regards the series or fanfiction? So Amber isn’t involved in the series of beyblade, there’s no fanfic rewrite with her as a character, so there’s nothing there she’d be involved in. However, there’s a scene in Saving where Amber will inevitably sacrifice herself. That’s another reckless thing she does, it’s very annoying. But in this scene, while doing her sacrificial lamb thing, she smartly out manoeuvres a fey with her ability to think quickly on her feet and talk herself out of trouble. And I just love that - also when she made the Lord of the Ring Reference to the Fey rider with Ian. Ian’s reaction to that is fantastic and it’s one of my favourite scenes because it’s classic Amber, speak first, think later. And it inevitably pays off —for a change. Ian was impressed for like five minutes.
16. Does your OC watch movies? Which one is your OC’s favourite? Yeah, Amber watches movies. She’s not got a favourite so much (someone will tell me I’m wrong and she’s stated her favourite in xyz chapter) but in Saving it’s Moana, because that’s her baby cousin’s hyperfixation and some of that movie resonates with her and her plight. In SLTS Probably Miracle or something hockey related, she loves Marvel too and is on a quest to get Kai some pop culture so he won’t make a fool of himself on those NHL interviews. He’s gonna ace them and look like a real boy.
17. When watching a tournament, which blader does your OC cheer for over all others? Now who would your OC bet on to win? Bet on to win? Tyson. Maybe Kai… she’ll double bet. She’s shitty at gambling. She just wants to win and those are obvious bets. Who would she cheer? Privately, Kai. Out loud, anyone but. Any of the girls, she’ll definitely cheer for. HOWEVER IF MARIAM ENTERS A TOURNAMENT Amber will be number 1 fan, wear the merch, scream the loudest, carry a ‘Mariam will you marry me’ poster and wave it wildly. That’s just law.
18. Something unique about your OC? She’s so fucking normal that coming up something unique is difficult. She doesn’t look interesting, she doesn’t have a beyblade - she has a voice in her head which she thought made her unique but then she met Brooklyn and… it’s really not that special. OH! She has a good relationship with her family! That’s unique in Beyblade! (Not her cousins in Saving but they don’t exist)
19. Would your OC stay up all night skyping messaging a friend? Or do they prefer sleep? Okay, so she absolutely would and has. She likes to talk and doesn’t know how to shut up. In Saving sleeps not always been a comfort to her, she dreams about her death a lot. It’s not fun. Thing is, she needs sleep. She’s a grumpy bitch if she doesn’t get 8 hours, so now we know why she is as she is! SLTS Amber would definitely stay up talking all night but she’s in boarding school and everyone tells her to shut up and sleep because they need to practice in the morning and they’re not in different timezones.
20. Now tell me your OC’s background. How did they get involved in the world of Beyblade? Reluctantly and with great disdain. Amber was born with a voice in her head, the same one her grandfather had, the one he passed on to her as he died. The voice warns of an approaching apocalypse, the end of mankind as we know it, the revival of the fey and their reclamation of Ireland. For the first part of her life she could ignore it, until she couldn’t.
When the flyers announcing the tournament started to show up, the voice became antsy. It was time, they had to go now or everything would be lost. It’s not something any fifteen year old wants to hear, but when your family all believes in it, the prophesy handed down by every generation, you can’t exactly ignore it. And when her Nana Molly gives her some money and encouragement, Amber finds herself on a train to Belfast to save the world or her part of it.
Problem is, she has no skills, she has no powers but she knows that Beybladers with their bitbeasts are what cause the Fey to awaken, so surely if she just gets them to leave, that’ll sort it. She’ll steal their damn bitbeasts if she has to (and give them back once they leave because she’s not a villain). It’s a very simple solution to a very complicated problem. Except she didn’t count on the Beybladers and their innate suspicion of new people who show up pretending to be nice.
But weirdly she ends up befriending Ian and Hilary and once she shows Hilary the voice, everything starts to be a little more real. And when Mariam comes on board, it looks like Amber might actually have a chance to pull this off. Of course, nothing goes to plan and if they hope to succeed and prevent the end of the world, then all the Beybladers will need to come together and maybe, an Irish girl with no history with these various teams, might be key to pulling them all together. And where can you find Amber?
Amber can be found here and here. Ff.net suffers some growing pains in terms of writing but more story to read, AO3 is better writing (debatable) and a better reader experience, but slower updates as I try to make it better. Thank you!! I shall be sending these on to you later so we can hear a bit about Kain!
#Beyblade#zadien replies#amber marie benson#beyblade oc#everyone should do this if you have an oc#be cool to hear about them
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Heyo! I hope you're doing well! For the new NSFW asks, how about 39: "do you have a mommy kink", "no", "do you want one?" with leonardo, I've been waiting for a mommy kink with leonardo so I figured now would be a good time to ask lol 😂
Y’all heathens have to reignite my “Leo Has A Mommy Kink” debate.
So yes of course I can.
Rated Explicit (18+ only)
There are several aspects about Leo’s life that he quite enjoys keeping private.
You don’t earn the nickname Honor Boy without exactly living up to it. So naturally he doesn’t go about voicing things that needn’t concern his chatty brothers and their abilities for dumb nicknames.
It just doesn’t concern them that he’s, well he’s not the purest of the bunch. So what he likes to blow off steam and said steam requires particular things for it to be blown off. Nobody needs to know how much he’s read up on rope play and shibari (it’s artistic he swears) and nobody needs to know that his own internet history searches could rival that of Donnie.
And nobody needs to know that he may have a slight, tiny, minuscule, itty bitty mommy kink.
He feels his neck already all hot and sweaty when it comes to you, so it was quite uncalled for (in his mind) for you to talk kinks with him one late night in his room. Because contrary to Donnie who isn’t ashamed of his likes, Leo is still working through that. He doesn’t know how exactly to voice it, he isn’t stoked about sitting down with Donnie (who would be the most understanding) because he’s a little repressed to this day.
But you’re much more open, shameless and so nonchalant about it. He quite envies it to be honest, how you can laugh and giggle your way through a list you found online and have been reading to him about kinks.
And yes Leo’s laughed too, some of them sound so bizarre and not in the least bit appealing.
And yes he’s tried not to look too shameful about knowing some that you’ve never heard of.
“People really make a kink for anything, I bet there’s somebody right now inventing a new one” You scrolled on your phone, grinning when you landed on one in particular you knew all too well. You sat up a little straighter on Leo’s bed and cleared your throat.
“Daddy kink? Does is spark joy or not?” You gave your best game show voice and Leo shook his head with a chuckle. “I dunno, not really, there’s better authoritative names” He clears his throat, trying not to allude too much to what would end him if a girl ever said it to him.
“I suppose you’re on to something there, I’m either or, maybe in the heat of the moment who knows” You do notice that some of these have probably hit home for him, he had been a little more talkative before but as the list progressed, the more shy he got.
Something about that makes you so astonishingly delighted.
“Once a guy called me Mommy and I have to say, awakened something in me” You studied his reaction, Leo swallowed and did not in anyways let his eye stray towards you.
Oh boy.
“Do you have a mommy kink?” You flat out asked him, grinning. Leo kept his eyes anywhere but on you.
“No” With just a little more conviction he could’ve made it believable the poor soul.
“Do you want one?” You ask him with every seductive incentive that only serves for Leo to swallow.
You sit up on your knees and rest your hands on his shoulders, Leo can’t really stay with his eyes glued to one of his bonsais forever, so he caves.
Oh god does he cave.
“What’s wrong sweet boy?” You coo at him, hands running up his hot neck and resting on his cheeks. “Is my precious little boy embarrassed?” You caress his cheek, even going so far as to adjust his mask and Leo feels like he’s going to scream because blood rushing to places it shouldn’t right now.
“It’s ok, mommy’s goodest boy doesn’t have to be embarrassed about anything, yeah?” And you have to bite your lip from smiling so much when Leo honest to god shakes his head at your inquiry. You thumb his bottom lip and lean in close enough to feel his warm breath. “Have you been good? Have you been the most good boy for me?” You watch his tongue dart out to lick his dry lips as he nods.
The surge of power that shoots through your veins, it was definitely something you us become a fan of. But Leo’s reaction had been way more entertaining than that of your old flame. Your eyes landed on his lap, clearly this had pulled a very interesting reaction out of him. “Tsk tsk, did I say you could get excited?” You chastised him, tapping his lips with your finger.
How the night shifted to this was beyond Leo, he was lost in the mood, in the heat behind your words and there was no way he could stop his cock from filling up due to it. A part of him wanted to be embarrassed, he considers himself such a strong willed person, not easily cracked but yet here you were making putty out of him with such sweet words. You leaned in, voice a whisper. “Are you okay with this? Want me to stop?” You wanted to check in after all, but you would not continue if this was overstepping any boundaries with him.
Leo took a shuddering breath.
“No...mommy”
You bit the inside of your cheek, that shouldn’t have made you so hot. With a soft fingertip to the middle of his plastron, you followed a path downwards toward his already tenting shorts. You heard him gulp and once your hand was inside you gripped him with every intention of making squirm.
And messy.
Because Leo has to appreciate some messes.
“You’re such a good boy, my good blue boy” You jerked his cock slowly, each pump deliberate with the goal of hearing him struggle to autores a noise. A strong hand found your thigh and gripped it, several choked moans and whines escaping him. Pressing your lips to his cheek you hushed him, you kissed the spot just as you began to speed up your movements. Leo’s hips wanted to buck up into your tight grip, he felt your lips travel towards his ear and a smug tone that only served to make his cock leak. “Who has a mommy kink after all?” Oh he would’ve crawled into a hole and the way you giggled only made the situation worse.
He felt himself cum without warning, which only made the situation even more amusing for you, some of it shot up towards your shirt as you kept pumping. Leo didn’t even know if he could muffle his sounds more by. “Messy messy, you ruined mommy’s shirt” You grinned, still lazily stroking him as he slumped back against the pillows. His soft blue eyes found yours, if he could turn red he would’ve been by, you leaned down and kissed him.
As you pulled away, Leo gently reached for your stained hand and brought it towards his lips.
“May I clean my mess up...mommy?”
You bit down on your bottom lip and nodded.
Oh this would be such a fun new thing for the two of you and even as Leo (embarrassed to high end but still greatly enjoying himself) licked your fingers and palm of his own cum, he knew as well that maybe sharing his likes wouldn’t be so bad after all.
#tmnt bayverse#tmnt leonardo x reader#leo tmnt#leonardo tmnt#tmnt leo#tmnt leonardo#leo#Leonardo#leo x reader#leonardo x reader#smut prompts#ask#scholastic dragon#ns*w
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Secrets Kept
Based on this request: “thomas x reader and one of the other people are being rude and they slap her and they get all worked up and mad? (maybe the person is making fun of her because she got attacked by a griever (she’s a runner) and minho had to help, but minho also stands up for her)”
masterlist
You’ve been running in the Maze for maybe an hour, maybe more. It’s not long enough. It’s funny how every morning, you wake up and manage to convince yourself that being a Runner is easier than you think, that you’ll be able to keep moving endlessly and never have a problem with it. You seem to forget how hard your job is overnight, but you’re reminded of it every single morning. To be honest, you’re not sure what you expected when you signed up to be a Runner in the first place, but the constant exhaustion is just one of the side effects.
That being said, you wouldn’t trade this job for anything. A slight grin appears on your face as you look around you, tilting your head up to feel the breeze whipping around the corners of the Maze. Your mind is turning, thinking of ways to remember every hall and corridor that you cross. Beside you, your running partner turns to you, eyebrows raised over your apparent delight. This causes Minho’s attention to be focused solely on you, which is why he doesn’t notice your boyfriend, Thomas, appearing down a nearby corridor.
Your eyes widen imperceptibly. Thomas isn’t supposed to be here, not at all. You joined the ranks of the Runners a long time ago, way before Thomas even showed up here and wanted to risk his neck with the rest of you. That meant that he would be a part of a different pair of runners, one that wasn’t you and Minho, and that he would be assigned a completely different part of the Maze to run for today. Ever since the Gladers discovered that different sectors of the Maze opened at different times, they carefully divided each sector into runnable routes that were parceled out to the various pairs of Runners. Basically, all of this means that you shouldn’t once see Thomas during the entirety of your daily run, yet here he is now.
You think you know why he’s here, though. Your theory is proven when Thomas stumbles to a halt mid-step after realizing that Minho is seconds away from discovering you, and quickly stumbles behind a wall of the Maze for cover. When he peeks out again, he’s got a smirk on his face that tells you that the added danger of getting caught is only making him more willing to risk discovery.
Why is he here, then? Well, it’s probably because you’re dating Thomas, or at least you have in secret. Once you showed up to the Glade and became the first girl to add to their numbers, Alby set in motion a rule that none of the boys could even come near you. They could be friends all they wanted, but the second they looked at you with a desire for something more, they’d be thrown in the Slammer before they could say ‘I escaped the friend zone’.
You’ve been perfectly fine with this rule. There are enough gaping boys in the Glade that make you more than alright that Alby gives any flirting slintheads a death glare. However, when Thomas showed up, you just couldn’t stick to the plan. He was kind to you, and it seemed like he was the first one to truly listen to you for a very long time. When you spoke about anything, when you even so much as sat next to him, Thomas would look at you with this soft smile that made you want to reach over and kiss him right then and there.
You’d been afraid to do something, at first. What if you misread something and suddenly it was you crossing his boundaries as opposed to any one of the Gladers with you? Then, one night at the Bonfire, Thomas had been walking you back to the Homestead when he’d turned to you with this look in your eyes, one that made you shiver slightly despite the heat of the dark hour. He’d asked if he could kiss you, voice low and rumbling in the shadows, and you’d barely been able to nod your head yes from the thrill of it.
Ever since then, you’ve been happy enough to consider him your boyfriend. The problem is that Thomas still technically isn’t supposed to be seeing you, and the only way you can kiss him is if the two of you sneak out to the Deadheads or find time when nobody is around to reach over and wrap your arms around him. These come with an unsurprising rarity, as the Glade is practically overrun with shanks with little to no concept of personal space and privacy, so you have to make do with what you have.
This means that on days like today, when Thomas had been held back from seeing you even into the late hours of the night, he’s willing to stretch some rules and come find you himself. So, you turn to a still unsuspecting Minho, and gesture for him to go forward without you. “Tell you what, I’m going to fix my shoe. I think there’s something in it.” Minho starts to say something about how he’ll wait for you, but you hurriedly wave his concerns away. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. You go ahead and I’ll catch up.”
Minho hesitates one last moment then shrugs, turning to keep running. You watch him go, afraid to make the slightest of motions towards the general area behind you where you spotted Thomas, lest your running partner suspect something and come back to you. Minho’s just disappeared around a corner when a pair of hands descend on your hips, spinning around to come face to face with Thomas, who’s wearing a particularly proud grin at the look of surprise on your face.
You reach forward to smack his arm. “Slinthead. I thought a Griever was sneaking up behind me.” Thomas just laughs. “I don’t think Grievers look this good.” You try to hold back a laugh of your own. “Good to know that your pride hasn’t been hurt by you bending the rules all the time. We could get caught, you know.” Thomas just lifts a shoulder in dismissal. “I’m dating the prettiest girl in the Glade. I’d say that’s worth going behind Alby’s back.”
You fight to keep heat from rising to your cheeks. “The prettiest girl in the Glade? Thomas, I’m the only girl in the Glade.” Thomas smirks. “Doesn’t mean it’s not true. Just accept the compliment, Y/N.” You open your mouth to protest, but you’re effectively silenced when Thomas leans forward to kiss you. Suddenly, all of your complaints are evaporating into the hot air of the Maze.
You allow yourself a few minutes of this before you reluctantly bid Thomas farewell. Despite being able to throw Minho off your tail for a little while, you can only ‘fix your shoe’ for so long before the boy starts to suspect something. When Thomas finally lets you go with a goodbye kiss and you jog down the labyrinthine corridors in search of your running partner, you do so with a smile. How’d you get this lucky?
You find Minho after a little while, who offers up a few joking criticisms about how long it takes you to tie your shoes. You bear these with a smile, knowing that your real reason for being late is something that far outweighs any of Minho’s sarcastic comments. The two of you run for a little longer before heading further into the center of the Maze. It is only there, once you’re as far away from the Glade as you could possibly be, that you realize that something is wrong. It feels as if you’re suddenly not alone, that you and Minho aren’t the only ones lurking in these corridors.
Seconds later, something heavy comes to an abrupt stop in front of you. You and Minho rear back in identical shock, staring at the Griever, the one that’s just jumped down from the walls of the Maze to land a few feet ahead of you. You gaze at it unthinkingly, unable to move a muscle despite all of your body screaming for you to run. “How is it here? I thought Grievers weren’t supposed to come out during the day!”
Minho gulps beside you. “They’re not, but this one’s here anyway. Run!” That’s all the incentive you need for your legs to start working again, and the two of you turn and sprint in unison. Your feet are pounding down the ground, your body focused on the sole goal of surviving. You thought you were tired before, but all of that exhaustion is gone now, replaced by an intense adrenaline rush that leaves you feeling as if you’ve got all the energy in the world.
You race around corners and down straightaways, your breath coming hard in your chest. Despite the fact that you’re running as fast as you can, you almost get the feeling that the Griever is toying with you, not going after you with as much force as it could truly muster. Indeed, once you’re almost to the final corridors separating you and the Glade, it seems to draw back, disappearing into the halls of the Maze once more.
You turn to Minho, gasping for breath after your abrupt sprint. “What was that about? Why did it stop?” Minho shrugs, hands on his knees for any kind of support. “I don’t know. Maybe it wanted to stop us from going too far. Maybe we were going to see something that it didn’t want us to see. All I know is that I’m pretty shucking happy that we’re still alive.” You manage to limp over to him, slapping him on the back. “You can say that again. Let’s go tell Alby that we’re the two unluckiest shanks in the Glade to stumble upon a Griever in the middle of the day.”
Alby is, unsurprisingly, stunned by this news. This contradicts everything you’ve thought of the Grievers and the Maze before today. No matter how strange your living situation in the Maze is, the rules have never changed- Grievers come out during the night, and the night only. No one has any idea what to think now that this has changed, and to be honest, no one really wants to think about what happened. In the end, Alby decides that there’s nothing you can do about it except tell everybody to be careful.
As a result of this, you see a lot of somber faces around the Glade that afternoon. Everyone’s clustered into tight groups, talking in hushed voices about obviously critical topics that no doubt revolve around your little Griever incident. When Thomas comes back from his run in the Maze, you see his face fall in an instant when he hears what happened. He starts to come your way, expression twisted with concern, but you shake your head once. Technically, you’re not supposed to know Thomas that well at all. Let Newt handle him- despite everything, you still can’t blow your cover and reveal to everyone that you’re dating.
Still, the anxious mood persists around the Gladers. Gally eventually gives in and asks Alby for a Bonfire Night, which the older boy approves. This is basically just an excuse to light things on fire and pass around Gally’s suspicious brew, but everyone’s so keyed up over what just happened that Alby decides everyone needs a night to have fun. Once the glasses of amber liquid start getting passed around, though, you begin to think that it might not have been such a good idea after all.
Once fear mixes with Gally’s concoction, people start getting louder, their friendly punches in the fighting ring less charming and more antagonistic. You decide to leave early, already tired of the signs pointing to the fact that this night will not be going well. However, you’re barely taken a few steps away from your seat before one of the more drunk Builders stops you in your tracks.
“Where are you going, Y/N? Running away again?” You raise an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” The Builder scoffs. “We all know what happened with the Griever. You saw it and ran away. Big bunch of nothing for someone who’s supposed to be one of the bravest Runners we’ve got.” You fold your arms over your chest incredulously. “Then feel free to take my job. I’m sure all of your experience stacking bricks will help you deal with a monster as tall as a house.”
The Builder’s smug smile drops. “Are you calling me a coward?” You snort. “I’m calling you weak. Get out of my way, I don’t want to deal with you tonight.” You move to walk past him, but the Builder just shifts to block your way again. “Like shuck. You don’t get to call me weak.” You stare back at him, feeling anger starting to rise up in your chest. “And you don’t get to call me a coward. You wouldn’t know bravery if it hit you over the head.”
This is probably a bad idea, you know that. This thought is proven correct when the Builder’s hand moves in a blur across your field of vision, and seconds later, your hand is coming away from your nose. There’s a streak of red across your fingers that tells you that he’s hit you hard, harder than he should have for what was supposed to be a friendly bonfire night.
Already, there are outraged shouts coming from around you, Gladers already starting to come to your defense. The loudest one, though, is from the boy who’s already by your side. Somehow, you’re not surprised that Thomas is already here. He probably would have punched the guy already, were it not for the fact that Minho and Newt both are holding him back. “Don’t you dare hit her. Don’t you dare.”
The Builder chuckles, although you can tell that he’s afraid. “What are you going to do? Hit me? We’ll just be together in the Slammer.” Thomas stops fighting against Minho and Newt, fixing the Builder with a death glare that makes the boy flinch. “You wish. Were it not for the fact that I actually give a damn about what’s supposed to happen around here, you’d be on the ground, trust me.”
The Builder raises an eyebrow, trying to add to his tough-guy demeanor in the hopes that it’ll cover up for the fact that he’s slowly trying to back away. “What do you care about what I do? This doesn’t concern you.” Thomas takes a step forward, and the Builder practically shrinks back. “Actually, it does. Y/N’s braver than you could ever dream of being. Do you know what it’s like to come face to face with a Griever? The fact that she’s not dead should tell you something about how tough she is. And yes, this does concern me, because she’s my girlfriend.”
Silence falls around the Bonfire at Thomas’ words. He glances over at you now, realizing what he’s said. “Surprise.” You laugh in spite of yourself. “Well, it was going to come out eventually.” You reach over, slinging your arm around his shoulder. “Come on, let’s let Alby deal with this slinthead. We’ve got better things to do.” Thomas allows himself a grin, moving away with you. “That we do.”
maze runner tag list: secret bestie @underc0vercryptid, @ellobruv
#thomas#thomas imagines#thomas x reader#thomas oneshot#maze runner#maze runner imagines#maze runner x reader#maze runner oneshot#tmr#tmr imagines#tmr x reader#tmr oneshot#maze runner thomas#maze runner thomas imagines#maze runner thomas x reader#maze runner thomas oneshot#tmr thomas#tmr thomas imagines#tmr thomas x reader#tmr thomas oneshot#scorch trials#death cure
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A blanket of shifting shadows.
Part 9 of Adventure Log+ (Sequel to Link’s Thought Brambles. I highly recommend reading in order!) WARNING: This chapter is rated mature for disturbing imagery and violence.
It’s the eyes.
Now we know.
Their shrieks, like they’re the ones horrified of us. Like glass shards in my ears, but they’re not what paralyze.
Daile, stock-still, caught in its gaze.
Zelda’s arrow through its ear.
We know now. We flank them.
…Still standing. Arrows aren’t so effective against them.
I guess… putting a stick in something that’s already dead doesn’t matter much.
They don’t even bleed.
The neck again, Link. Just… do it. Don’t think about it.
Sever it.
.
“Mm-“ My Goddess, the sound it makes- like- like-
I don’t know- boots- sucking out of thick mud-
Stop, Link.
.
.
I’m so sorry. Whoever you were. Please, be at peace.
I guess I know, now, what I’d kill for.
Zelda? Yes. But it’s not just her.
I’d never let one of these things kill anyone else, either.
Not that I ever had a problem killing monsters.
But this…
“I’ll check inside.” Oh. I guess I can talk. “Window, Daile.”
“Yes, sir.”
I don’t even sound like I’m shaking.
I just sound… as dead as these things.
That’s a new voice on you, Link.
Straw.
Goats.
They don’t sound happy.
Bet they haven’t had new food or water in a while.
.
.
Sorry… not yet. Have to finish the check. We can… we can help you out afterward.
Empty stalls. The horses would’ve been here.
Piles of fresh straw.
No sounds or shadows from the loft.
And THAT is a very uncomfortable-looking-and-sounding cow. “You didn’t get milked this morning, did you, girl?” And not last night, either.
“Link?”
“All clear, Princess.”
“What is it?”
“The cow. It’s… been about a day, I’d guess, since whatever happened happened. She’s swollen.”
“O-oh, yes. Now you point it out, I see it.”
“Daile, let the goats out, would you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Link…what are you-“
“We’re going to talk about what to do next, right?”
“We ought to.”
“Great. I’ll milk her. You don’t want to know what happens if you stop suddenly.”
More hand-alcohol, Link. Don’t milk the cow with contaminated hands.
I can feel Zelda’s eyes on me. Is this disturbing to her? Maybe. She didn’t grow up with farm animals, though. You really do have to do this, and if you’re going to stop milking a cow for some reason you don’t do it cold-turkey. You wean them off it slow so they don’t end up bursting. This one’s already well overdue- damn. That’s a lot of milk. She’s staying still for me even though I’m a stranger. It must’ve been bothering her a lot.
Maybe this is the one kindness I can do in this place.
Maybe I should stop saving foxes.
This isn’t the same, though.
We have a few minutes while we figure our next step.
That is… if we do that. Zelda’s just watching me.
And… now she’s getting me a second bucket.
“Here.”
“…Thanks.”
“The goats seem thirsty, sir—Princess. They’re going at a pretty dry trough.”
“Yeah, they would be.”
“I think there was a pump, but- but-“
…Damn. “It’s near the malice.”
“…Yeah.”
“We ought not risk approaching it, I think. Do you agree, Link?”
“I do.” Goddess knows if that stuff’s seeping into the ground. What happens if you drink contaminated-
Contaminated- “Zelda?”
“Yes, my love?”
Woah! Yeah, she whispered, but Daile’s- oh. No, he walked outside. Probably peering around for a watering hole.
She's smiling at me. It’s a small one, but still.
Contaminated. “I just killed two people.”
Did I say that?
Smile gone. Just like that.
You know, Link, you thought if you ever did something like this, you’d be miserable. Crying with guilt. That’s not what it’s like at all.
I don’t feel much of anything, do I? Even my hands are kind of numb, just going through these plain old motions. Guess I can make those difficult decisions after all. As long as there’s enough incentive.
No tears.
Father would approve.
Bucket’s almost half-full already.
Contamination. “We don't know what happens if that stuff gets in the ground water... or the crops. This is a farm.”
.
“...Indeed. I’m torn whether to make haste to other nearby farms or to hurry toward the tech lab at once. They ought to study this malice.”
“Real carefully if they do. We don’t know how those… corpses were made to walk. Or how they died in the first place.”
…Quiet…
.
“I did not see any obvious wounds on them. Not- not when they first appeared. …Did you, Link?”
“There weren’t any.”
“I’m concerned this may be what happens if malice is touched. Fi?”
Malice can kill, Princess. It burns. A single touch would not cause what you observed today—it would require prolonged contact. Malice can, however, animate a body once its life functions have ceased.
“Do you have any idea where this substance may have come from?”
No, Princess. However, I estimate a 97.8% probability it was placed in this location intentionally.
“I concur. It's suspiciously close to our usual route to the lab.”
.
.
.
I bet she’s expecting me to be freaking out on the slate.
I’m not.
.
.
“I was, yes.”
“Yeah.”
“…What can I do to help?”
“Nothing, Zelda. I’m fine.”
.
This poor cow. Bucket number two. “Are we going to discuss where to go?”
“…I’m rather leaning toward sending Daile to ride hard south. I must imagine Purah will have sent a team our way hours ago at this point. He can guide them.”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay. We… hph. Seven horses.”
“Yes. I was wondering about that, too.”
“There aren’t enough stalls here for them.”
“And, it would seem, only three people.”
“…Unless more escaped.”
“Or… wandered once- once walking again.”
More of them. We could check- “Beds. In the house.”
“Indeed.”
“Then, we circle wide. Check all the neighboring farms.”
“It shall take most of the night, most likely.”
“Yeah.”
.
Almost done. “Good girl. Sorry you were hurting like that.”
.
.
“We shall miss our appointment with Zuho tomorrow morning.”
Definitely. Mom’ll be worried…
“Purah will send word to the castle… and to the logging village, if she’s any sense.”
”She has sense.” I think.
“…I also hope she sent more than a handful of people in our direction. We shall need watches.”
“Double-watches. No way anyone should be awake alone with things out here that can paralyze you with a glance. Or… whatever made that muck appear.”
“Jeralt would suggest triple-watches.”
“Yeah. He would.” If it were just us three, no one’d sleep- “three- Zelda, Zelda, did Daile-“
“No, not yet!”
Okay, cow, milk aside, sorry-
It’s not just me, Zelda’s hurrying, too-
“SIR DAILE!”
“DAILE? DAILE!! F@#$, Zelda, did you see which way he went?”
“East, I think!”
S#@$, s@#$, s@#$, it’s only been a few minutes only a few, he can’t be far, he can’t be far, Link, but he didn’t answer he didn’t answer, I’m a goddess-damned idiot and a s@#$ty captain, that’s what I am! “DAILE! DAILE! …DAAAILE!!”
“SIR DAILE!”
“DAILE, COME ON MAN-“
“I’M- HERE!”
“Oh- oh, thank-“
“Goddess-” Toward a downslope. Looking for water. Lower elevations.
There was something odd about his voice.
There- coming out of that grove. He doesn’t look hurt…
?! “Daile, are you alright?!” Why’s he have his hand against his nose like that? Foul smell?
He’s not even nodding. Won’t look up.
“Sir Daile. Please report.”
She managed to say that kindly, somehow.
“Hhh. Hhhhh. There was another one.”
“Was?”
“Yes, sir. I- took care of it.”
“We didn’t hear it shriek.”
“It didn’t. I was quiet. Knew I might not be alone out here. I saw it… I…I ended it quietly. Sir.”
“…Back there?”
“Yes, sir.”
Zelda’s moving—I should go, too, just in case-
“Princess?”
“Yes, Sir Daile?”
“It’s- not easy to look at.”
A tiny nod and fraction of a smile and off she goes.
You too, Link. Quietly.
Three guesses, Link, why Daile would be even more upset about this one.
Please don’t let it be a kid.
Please.
Please?
Hylia. Zelda must see it… she stopped.
A bunched hand to her mouth.
It’s a kid, isn’t it?
…It’s going to be a kid.
You have to look at some point, Link.
.
Just step beside her and look up. It’s that easy.
.
.
So small.
.
.
At a tiny watering hole.
.
Maybe catching frogs.
.
.
.
“Hh-hhh.”
“Zelda?”
“Hh-hh-hhhhoh.”
Oh no, no no no- “Zelda- it’s-“ no, it’s not okay, Link, don’t be like that. It’s not at all okay. “Come here.”
“Hh-hh-hhh-hhh-hhhhhhh hhhh hh.”
She’s whisper-crying. Trying so hard to be quiet.
“Hhhh. Hhhhhhph.”
I’d’ve thought it would be me.
“Hhh h.”
Wet shirt. Dry face.
“Hh-hhh-“
Hold her tighter.
“Hhh.”
“We’ll stop this. We will.”
“Hhh- What if they’re all like this?”
“Then we. Will. End. Whatever caused it.”
“We must go. We must go. Now, Link.”
“Yes.”
“Sir Daile!”
“Yes, Princess!”
“Ride south immediately. Ride hard and scour the plain as well as possible so as not to miss our allies.”
“Yes, Princess.”
“Do NOT engage anything suspicious. If you encounter no one, make for the lab. Link and I shall check the house briefly, then ride to the nearest farm east first. Then we shall circle northwest, then southwest, until we have reached due west of here. Then we shall follow the opposite path but one farm outward. With luck we shall stop whatever did this from progressing further. It would be wise for you to guide the others northwest to meet us at the other end of the semi-circle if possible. Link and I shan’t rest until we find… what did this.”
“Yes. YES, Princess!”
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone run so hard.
“Oh- SIR DAILE!”
“YES, PRINCESS!”
“BE WARY OF ALL WATER SOURCES! THE PUMP AND THE WATERING HOLE—PERHAPS BOTH TARGETED!”
“YES, PRINCESS!”
Smart.
Water.
It could be a coincidence. The… the kid might’ve been there already when… whatever found them…
I’m breathing hard.
Getting ready to run, I think. To find whatever sprang from the unknown demonic depths of darkness to do this. Maybe I’m just unbelievably angry. The red might be from sunset but it could also be the blood rushing through me.
“Link.”
“Yes.”
Running. Barn first. Just… make sure the animals’ pens are open. Animals are smart… they won’t drink contaminated water.
If we had more time, I might try and drive them south a bit, but we don’t. It’s up to them.
“Do you have bottles?”
“Wh-what?”
“In your pouch. Do you have any empty bottles?”
“I- well yeah, I do, but-“
“The cow’s milk.”
“You’re worried about the milk going bad?!”
“Link, if the water in this entire area is contaminated, milk is frankly better than nothing.”
“Oh.” Once again, your Princess is way smarter than you are.
Okay, get the bottles out get them out get them out, hand them over-
“Yes- thanks-“
“I have more.”
“Truly?!”
“Heh. Yeah.” Dear Goddess, Link, how can you huff-laugh at a time like this?
Canteens. Am I insane? Do I collect things for no reason? Maybe I collect things because I have a magic pouch and I can stick anything in there I want. (Almost).
Either way, she’s now holding four bottles and an empty canteen. “That’s it.”
“Excellent.”
She fills. I tie gates open. Hope the animals don’t decide to stay here. Who knows what ‘malice’ does if it’s around for a long time. The surface moves. Maybe it can slither or-
I don’t even want to know.
I have to know, though, don’t I?
This is it.
This is what I’m supposed to be doing.
Not hanging around in a castle playing guardsman.
And… the Princess was meant to do this with me, too.
I am also meant to be with you, master.
“Heh. Yes. Thanks, Fi. I… I’m sorry our plan is in tatters already.”
I have never known your plans to be otherwise, master.
“…Thanks.”
Any time, master.
“Hph.” You twinkled.
Oh?
With amusement.
You are entertaining, master.
You don’t seem as upset by what we just saw as Zelda and I.
…The dead of long past are as innumerable as the silent stars keeping dark watch on ages long lost from our world.
“Wh- what does that even mean?”
“Link, I apologize in advance. I’m making quite the mess of your bottles.“
“…Don’t worry about it.” Bottle mess. Not important. “I’m almost done.”
Easy to talk about, though.
“As am I.”
Easy. A lot easier than other things.
Don’t- just don’t. “Done.”
“Yes. Here. Beds.”
“Right.” Bottles in pouch while walking no no “No, Zelda, don’t run, wait for me. Not alone. Never alone. Okay?”
“Y-yes.”
Just one sec, last one in- “Okay, run. You flank.”
“I can-“
“I got bitten already. Let me take the risk. Besides—sword.”
…She’s nodding. Good, good. Not the front door, malice there, around back. Back door? No. Windows, though. Darker now. Can’t see through the window well. No movement.
.
Low window… easy—no malice on the floor. The stuff… glows. I’d see it. I can see some of it out front through another window.
Glowing red-purple mud. Fluorescent flowers gone fluid.
That’s it. That’s the smell, isn’t it?
Bile.
Stomach fluid.
Mixed with…
With ash.
And more-
“Link?”
“Hh- sorry. Thinking.”
“It’s alright.”
Table’s set.
For four.
…No more kids, then.
Or anyone else.
Un-unless-
Upstairs?
“Clear here, Zelda.”
“Yes.”
She’s in.
“Stay to my side if at all possible.”
“Yes.”
“Hh-hhhh.” Stairs. “Hhh- hhhhh.” Get a hold of yourself.
Keep. Hold.
Hard to flank on these. She’ll just have to stay well behind me. She can watch me go up… follow after…
.
.
Bedrooms.
One double bed. Empty.
Nothing else. “Hhhhhhhh- hh.”
Keep hold.
.
Zelda stairs creaking.
.
Next door. Still no sounds. None.
Two small beds.
.
That’s all.
.
Floorboards. So loud. No sneaking in this place, not really.
I hear everywhere she is.
.
One more small- no. It’s a water-closet.
...No crib.
“Hhhhhhh- hhh- hhhhhh.” No crib.
Praise Hylia. Praise praise for that. For that. Yes. Thank you.
I don’t know if I could-
I
I just don’t know.
Closets.
Just in case.
.
.
Clothes.
Not a lot.
One nice set. For special occasions.
No.
No.
Don’t.
Just go.
.
.
“Zelda.”
“Clear?”
“Yeah. We ride.”
“Yes.”
Out. Out of here as fast as possible. Her, too. I can see it in the flurry of her movements. Not just urgency. She- she doesn’t want to be in here.
The lives here.
They were fine.
They were fine not at all long ago.
What if we’d left a day earlier?
What if-
.
Just.
Don’t.
.
.
So much darker now already.
Didn’t seem like we were in there very long.
Maybe it’s not the Sun and sky that changed a lot in the last few minutes. Maybe it’s me.
What’s wrong with me?
I don’t feel right.
.
.
The horses hear the whistle. Rionee knows this drill. She probably doesn’t realize I’ll wait for Zelda, though.
.
UP, girl. Good. Zelda…?
Wow. She’s up fast.
And we fly as fast as we can. “GO girl!”
“On, Tass!”
.
.
This morning, the plain was beautiful. An ocean of swaying gold.
What is it now?
A blanket of slinking shadows over the earth.
An endless sea swallowing remote islands, specklings of life at each one. Just as vulnerable as any sea-level hut near shore.
.
.
If there’s any life left.
The cow. Full udders.
It’s been a day.
.
A day.
.
Hylia, please have mercy on us. On them. Please.
Please, let this not happen fast, whatever it is.
Tass is like the wind.
Rionee’s fast, but… she can’t keep up this pace forever.
We can’t move faster than this.
It is how fast it is and we’re how fast we are and there’s nothing we can do, nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing if it’s happened already.
Nothing.
“Link!”
“Zelda?”
“I love you!”
“I- love you, too. Wh- why now?” When we have to half-shout over the horses!
“I shall remind you whenever I see that look on your face!”
“E- eh. Hhhh.”
“We shall prevail!”
That’s what I said earlier. That’s not the issue, is it? Not really. Whatever did this, we’re going to kill it. I know it already. I don’t have any doubt about that.
The issue… is how many people are already dead.
How many USED.
…By what?
Will we recognize it when we find it?
What made that sludge?
.
Look at her.
The look on her face.
Those guardian-laser eyes.
Like the first time I picked the slate up.
She’s focused. Determined.
Angry.
That’s what angry looks like on her.
That’s what it's always looked like on her.
She stays… calm.
Hardens.
That time she got so pissed at her father her lips twitched, too.
Too dark to see.
I wouldn’t be surprised if they are.
She doesn’t scream and shout. Doesn’t go into a rage.
She’s like-
Like an islander hawk.
Like Chee calls me.
We’re alike, aren’t we?
We’re alike, but she’s smarter. More willful.
What am I?
.
What are you, Link?
Why do you hold the sword and she doesn’t?
She should have a weapon far more powerful than that bow on her back.
.
No comment on that, Fi?
The Princess has access to magics which you do not, master.
Does she?
Yes. They… have not yet revealed themselves.
How can we reveal them?
They must appear in their own time and in their own way.
Cryptic. Very you.
I will take the opportunity of time afforded by traveling to remind you I will not be able to automatically strike at long range. You have injuries, master.
...Yes. I know.
You may, however, use me as you did the training sword during the melee.
I hadn’t thought about that. I was desperate, then.
Desperation is unnecessary, master. Focus is important—to will your energy into me.
So, you can do that, too?
YOU can do that, master. I am in tune with you. The effect through me will be amplified. You will find your spin attack to be most useful.
Will the- the- upward one work, too? Where I held the sword in the air?
The skyward strike will function under most circumstances.
… Like these circumstances?
It would function now if you tried it, yes. I cannot guarantee it will work when we meet the enemy which caused this.
Why not?
I do not know the properties of the enemy’s magics.
You think the enemy’s magical?
I’m certain of it, master. Malice and ReDeads do not appear via non-magical means.
R- re…
ReDeads. Yes. A name from times long past. Near the beginning.
The beginning…?
My Goddess. Fi, these things have been around since this whole… Calamity thing began?
Nearly.
Is there anything else you can tell me?
There are many things I can tell you, master.
About other things like these, particularly. Monsters that might… show up. That have something to do with this malice.
…Yes, master. I will describe all that I can. Then I will resume my analysis and reorganization of information if time allows.
Right. Ye- Wait! “Zelda?”
“Yes!”
“Watch the slate.”
“What? Hooves—too loud!”
“Fi- watch the slate for Fi! She’s going to tell us… about… about creatures of malice!”
Glittering green eyes in the darkness. Algae pools on moonless nights.
I’m… definitely thinking strangely.
“Very well! If I must read, you must watch, I’m afraid!”
“I would’ve anyway!”
“I know! Link?”
“Yes?”
“I love you!”
Oh. I must look like something. I don’t know what. Some kind of mess. “I love you, too! Zelda?”
“Yes?”
“I love you more than anything or anyone who’s ever lived! I’m… yours!” The answer to my question to myself earlier. That’s what I am. I’m hers. Anything she needs of me.
More glittering. Searching me. Wish I could see her expression well in this dark.
“And I am yours, my extraordinary knight! Link, my love, look me in the eye!”
I already was. I’ll look harder.
“We SHALL prevail! We shall end whatever did this, as you said!”
Yes.
But-
“Do not dwell on those who may not yet be dead!”
“That goes for you, too!”
“Ah- hhhh- I shall try, Link! FI!”
Yes, Princess.
“Begin!”
Yes, Princess.
-----
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#adventure log+#botw#zelda#zelink#loz#breath of the wild#legend of zelda#fanfic#adventure log+ au#rated mature for violence and disturbing imagery#fi#botw link#botw zelda#redeads
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Ok prompt! Sy is teaching you how to cook and maybe things get frisky ? 😁
Oooo I like this. Its not 100% on the nose but this is where the muse took me.
Did you want a novel? Because, I hope you like novels.
Warnings: chili with beans, sweet cornbread, swearing, smut
"Listen hear, you chicken fried fuck. If you don't like my cooking, you are welcome to eat something else at the damn pot luck!" I snap at a grumpy retired soldier who was talking trash about my chili recipe. Like always. Whenever we have a party, he has to say something about how I'm dressed, what I brought, or the beer I was drinking.
"All I'm saying here, California, is that where I'm from we don't put beans in our chili. And don't get me started on this abomination you call cornbread. Why is it sweet, why are there vegetables in my bread?" He says in his drawl.
"Because honey and roasted jalapenos taste good together!"
"I guess. You don't need to fuss so much Princess, I'll gladly show you how to make real Texan food. Make some wife material out of you." He smirked. I think he knew he was getting under my skin.
"Come on, Sy, give her a break. Take a bite of her cornbread with the chili, they are delicious together." One of our mutual friends told him when he could see that I was not having any more of his attitude.
I walked away from the conversation, feeling incredibly salty. The man was Syverson, we had been in the same group of friends for the past couple years and honestly he was usually at least cordial with me, but the sheer audacity of his tone today. The rest of the party was really fun, at least. Occasionally, I would catch eyes the color of the ocean after a storm staring me down. He kept looking like he wanted to say something to me but I would find reasons to leave the room. Fortunately there was always a way to get out and around.
Towards the end of the evening, I go outside to enjoy the cooling air and watch the stars, listen to a couple of the guys from inside sit on the tailgate of a truck and talk about football or something. The breeze would kick up occasionally and I could smell an orange tree blooming in the distance.
"Hey, oh shit, I didn't mean to startle you." I jumped damn near out of my skin when the grump showed up out of nowhere. "I actually really wanted to say that I'm sorry, I can be a real asshole sometimes. You are usually more aware of it than others. I'm used to giving people a hard time. Your food was delicious. I just don't know how to talk to you sometimes."
I looked at the large man skeptically. I'm not used to people going from snarky to nice to me. "Thank you for apologizing. Glad you liked it, Chicken Fried. You can just talk to me like anyone else, I don't mind some teasing, but you just know how to push my buttons."
Sy looked at his feet for a moment. "I will be nicer to you, I promise."
"I'm sure." I had heard that before.
"I still think mines better," back to sounding arrogant already, "I am willing to bet that it would blow your mind."
"Do you really want to bet?"
"Yeah... sure. I'll bet you. If my chili it better than yours.... you have to go on a date with me."
"Is that how you get most of your dates these days? Tinder just isn't cutting it anymore?" I tease. He is actually kind of good looking. Sort of. If you are into that hand crafted by the gods kind of look. I'm not saying I am, but I could get the appeal.
"You'd be surprised. Most of the women I meet want to figure out what's wrong with me. Almost 40, never married, I have a job I like. They keep waiting for my skeletons to come out of the closet. Like shit, girl, I just don't like olives or sweet relish. I think I'm pretty cool otherwise." He said talking with his hands out stretched. I think he might have been being earnest with me, but his tone is almost always sarcastic.
"You were in the military, right?"
"Yeah."
"That's what's wrong with you." The big man started laughing harder than I thought he would.
"Well, California. You up for it?"
"I don't know Chicken Fried, I don't like dating, I would really just like something casual, low maintenance. What happens when I win?"
"When?" He chuckles. "If you are looking for something casual and low maintenance, baby, there is a reason when I was still in the Army they called me Captain Cunnilingus."
"It sounds like either way you win." I smirk, "I would need a real incentive to try to beat you."
"How about bragging rights?"
"If I win... you shave your beard. Then I get to use your face as a chair." He looked shocked.
"Fine, when I win, you have to wear a dress on our date, and heels. Maybe even some of that shit you all put on your lips with the glitter and fruity flavors."
"Ok, now that's unreasonable. I don't even own heels."
"I'll buy you some." Well color me impressed. We decide on the terms of the bet. We would invite a couple of friends over to his place next Sunday and they would pick a winner with a blind taste test. We would also have one canned chili and one restaurant chili to make it a little more interesting.
Sunday came, and we all gathered in his house. This was the best batch of chili I have ever made. Fresh peppers, bacon, beer and some good quality beef all swam together in a symphony of flavors. When I walked into his house, the smell was... pungent. I could smell cooking vinegar. It wasn't bad but there was something just a little off putting.
"Glad you showed up, Princess." He looked me up and down. to surprise him just a little, I did show up in a dress. I figured a special occasion needed a special outfit.
I looked over at the big man as he took my slow cooker from my hands and plugged it in for me. To be fair to both of us, we had enough time to set up sides and toppings. I even baked more cornbread. Sy made his own savory cornbread that he pulled out of the oven in a cast iron skillet.
"It was my mama's." He told me when I asked about it.
"You bake also?"
"Sometimes, if the mood hits me. I like making peach cobbler too. If you are lucky, I'll make you some. Maybe after our date."
"So sure of yourself, Chicken Fried. I hope you got some good shaving cream and a new razor, you'll need it." In his kitchen, I lifted the hem of my sundress clear up to my naked hip showing him that I was ready to win this bet of ours. His pupils blew out with lust as he stepped up to me.
"Princess, you are a hell of a tease. I have wanted you so badly ever since the first time we met." He breathed, lusty and hot. He pinned me to the counter, radiating his desire. He bit his lip, looking me up and down, he looked like he wanted to kiss me or maybe consume me whole. Suddenly he pulls away, leaving me breathless. "We will have company soon. I need to walk this off, but I really do want to continue this conversation when we don't have to risk being interrupted."
Before anyone could walk in on us, Syverson rushed up to me and kissed me more passionately. My knees buckle for a second and its like I've been set on fire.
When our friends came into his house, he set up bowls, spoons, Fritos and cheese. He set up blind tastings for the guests, only he and I knew what everyone was eating.
The canned chili was a flop. The restaurant chili was a better batch but it wasn't as good. When our friends tasted my chili, they all keep saying how wonderful it was.
Then we tried Sy's. Everyone was quiet for a moment and then the group started to try to figure out what it was about the chili that we didn't like. It was too sweet as far as I was concerned and there was a weird aftertaste. It was an overwhelming agreement that Sy's chili was terrible. After we cleaned up his kitchen, Sy was pouting about having lost.
"So, when would you like for me to shave my beard?"
"Maybe later tonight. I think we have to finish that conversation we started earlier."
"Oh yeah, California?" He said, standing close to me. He grabbed me by my hips and lifted me to the counter top. I lace my fingers through his beard hair and pull him closer so I can finally kiss him again. He broke away from the kiss and then started nibbling on my neck. His hand found the seem of my dress and he slid his hand up my thigh. When my skirt was pushed up to my hips exposing my sex to him, he leaned me back. I watched him look at my core and lick his lips like a man starved.
"Wait a second. Before you start, what was going on with your chili? Did you throw the bet?"
"No, not at all." He looked at me confused. "I don't know what happened, I've made this a bunch of times and its always been good. This was terrible."
"Did you do anything different?"
"Well. I was out of tomato paste, so I used ketchup. A buddy of mine suggested it."
"Oh my god, Sy. No wonder! Thank god you are pretty, my guy." I tease.
"Your guy? I like the way that sounds. Now lean back, Princess. I'm going to try to convince you to let me not shave."
#henry cavill fanfic#my apologies to henry cavill#henry cavill#henry cavill smut#asks answered#captain syverson#captain sy x reader
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SWTOR: On "too easy"
I keep seeing posts elsewhere from "serious gamers" saying "waaah, they nerfed the game, IT'S TOO EASY NOW." I keep seeing posts from people who seem to think the only way to "save" SWTOR is to make it really difficult. And posts that cast judgment on those who prefer a more laid-back approach.
I can't stand that. Truly, one of the worst things about gaming is some of the playerbase.
I fully believe that where possible, content should have story/veteran/NiM modes available, the way KOTFE, KOTET and the non-story flashpoints do. If someone's idea of fun is to run every single thing with extreme difficulty, and that's what they get a charge from, let them at it...as long as it doesn't mean everyone else has to play that way too. That's where these discussions usually go off the rails, since these folks seem to think that everyone should play at an arbitrary high standard they deem acceptable.
A lot of different types of players love SWTOR. Some really do want NiM all the time. Others want to decorate strongholds or dress their characters. Some are all about story. Some love the group aspect and always want to play with guildies or friends; others steer clear of all interaction with other players. Some do a mix of all of the above. Some avoid certain activities at all costs.
I'm a solo story player. For me, extreme challenge isn't fun. It's usually enough to get me to quit. It's not fun for me to die over and over in a game or to struggle with complicated mechanics where one misstep means death. I hate things like the Onderon datacrons. I felt that Spirit of Vengeance was originally tuned way too high and had way too many mobs, even though I was fully able to finish it.
I've gone in and done some more difficult things like Dread Seeds and veteran flashpoints solo because I wanted to see the content and complete those missions. If the entire game was tuned like the last Dread Seeds mission or those veteran flashpoints, I'd likely leave in about two seconds. In the longterm, it's not pleasant for me. It's physically painful, it's boring and I don't find it relaxing or fun.
No one playstyle is "correct" or "normal." They all are. What's abnormal is when someone insists everyone has to play a certain way. What would I say to those gatekeepers whining about content being too easy?
The story content isn't getting people ready for endgame.
So?
You're assuming everyone wants to play endgame content. They don't. There's nothing Bioware could do, say or bribe me with that would get me into things like Ops, ranked PvP, PvP at all, PUGs or Master Mode flashpoints. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. I am here for the story. Period.
A training ground for endgame content exists in the form of flashpoints. The flashpoints in the game do get progressively tougher. If someone's truly interested in getting raid-worthy skills they're likely going to be doing solo flashpoints. And using groupfinder or joining a guild that works to help players progress. There are options, and those who are interested in raids will seek them out.
But the story is so easy. It's a faceroll. Games are about challenge.
Challenge means different things to different people.
Everyone has different abilities. You might roll through every flashpoint. The next player might die seven times just getting through the first tomb on Korriban. By the way, I'm "next player." I think my first toon may have kicked the bucket before even getting into Ajunta Pall's tomb. The word "easy" is very, very relative.
Also, for some of us, easier content is relaxing and fun. The same way some people like a leisurely bicycle ride along the bike path and others train for the Tour de France.
If challenge for you involves very difficult gameplay, it does exist. Go join a NiM guild for raids. Go play ranked PvP. Play another game. Why does everyone else need to play the way you play?
People aren't grouping. They should be forced to group.
Because you think they should? What gives you any right to dictate how other people play or who they play the game with? Are you the National Gaming Czar and nobody told us?
This "grouping should be compulsory!" belief is bullshit. People who want to group WILL group. That's always been the case. Hell, I remember being a kid and playing single player console games with friends. We'd take turns, cheer each other on, and yell out advice to the person playing. We found a way to play in a group because we wanted to.
Right now, the people in SWTOR there are guilds and healthy incentives to join them. Right now, the people in SWTOR who want to play with a friend or friends can do that. Even in things like class stories or KOTFE where it only progresses for one person, they can still come along and help. There are multiple opportunities in the game for players to meet each other. There are social media sites where they can do the same. There's group finder. There are people who look for groups on the fleet. There are PvP and GSF where they can play against others.
Bottom line? Anyone who wants to group has multiple ways to accomplish that at this very moment.
Those who aren't grouping likely do not want to group. They don't have to explain why. If you force them to group one of two things will probably happen: they will do it and hate every second of it and not want to be there, or they will stop playing. Which is more likely? Well, I'm sure we've all finished Oricon, Iokath and Macrobinoculars, right? Oh wait...
This is a game. It's not supposed to be like a job where you have coworkers you detest and still have to interact with them. It's not some life skill. It's. A. Game. Get over it if people don't want to play with you. There should always be open world PvP. Sure, if you want a mass exodus from the game in about a day. The minute they make open world PvP non-optional or make PvP content compulsory is the day I stop playing. And I don't think I'm alone there. I feel like this comment usually comes from people who are frustrated that others don't accept their duel requests and that there isn't a huge pool of players for PVP matches. They can't get people to play with them voluntarily so they want to force it. And you should be able to tag a mob someone else is working on. I keep seeing this brought up as an ideal in other games. It seems to be a way to force people to group with you even if they've said no to an invite. You know what will happen with this? You'll have players hitting the mob once and getting credit/loot without any effort. Or you will have players following around other players to "share mobs" with them even when that other player wants to be left alone. I'm of the opinion that any type of group play should be consensual in all cases, not forced on players because they happen to be in open world.
*sigh* It's an MMO.
And? MMO doesn't mean "group all the time" or even some of the time. It means a lot of players are co-existing in a shared online world. It means the ability to group should exist - and it does.
People come into group content and don't know what to do.
#1: Everyone starts somewhere. We all know that you were so miraculously gifted that you came out of the womb knowing advanced mechanisms for every boss fight, but most of us didn't.
#2. If you want to play strictly with a team of veteran players, join a guild, make some friends in the game and have fun. That's a lot more realistic than expecting random players in a PUG or groupfinder to meet whatever your exacting specifications are.
#3. Blame the devs for forcing players into Groupfinder to complete Galactic Seasons and other objectives. There are plenty of people who wouldn't be there if that weren't the case.
People come into flashpoints and want to watch the cut scenes.
Hang on. Let me process this. In a story based game, players want to watch the cut scenes? For real? That's completely unreasonable! /sarcasm
In the latest flashpoints, they've more or less removed all the cut scenes. You have your wish granted. For the older flashpoints, there are still many that don't have solo/story mode. The only way people can see those cut scenes is in veteran or master. If you have an issue with this, start advocating to the devs to make solo story versions of those flashpoints. I feel like the bottom line is that everyone has the right to ask for the type of gaming experience they want, but they don't have the right to insist everyone else should share that experience.
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TAJ 🔍 Run BTS! • #1-3
Disclaimer Please note that this is for entertainment purposes only. What I comment on is purely observational, and there is no way for anyone to know the true nature of these dynamics and what motivates them without actually being a presence in their lives or a direct confidant(e). Any statement made that inadvertently comes across as "factual" should be understood as an implication within the boundaries of my perspective.
Introduction The first time I thought about doing this, my goal was to focus on the interactions and development of Jungkook and Jimin. This "miniseries," if you will, went through several iterations as I was watching Run BTS, and I decided to be a bit more inclusive about how the group behaves/interacts with one another with an emphasis on Jungkook and Jimin, when applicable. I believe doing it this way provides a better context and contrast.
Also, my observations won't really take their other content into account that was happening around the same time. I might say something that contradicts a Bangtan Bomb that was released roughly around the same time, for instance, so just be advised. Anyone is more than welcome to chime in with interesting tidbits from other content (if it's relevant).
If the episodes are short enough, or I don't feel like there's much going on, I'm going to fit several in a post.
Episode 1
First of all, it's very striking how young they are. Their youth and how early they are in their career plays a lot into this tenuous uncertainty and shyness with which they're presenting themselves.
If one were to compare their personalities then vs. now, the maknae line is showing flickers of the kind of people they are and will eventually grow into, but even without the comparison, they definitely have an awkwardness about them that's common in their demographic. (But it could also be nerves from starting this new piece of content.) The hyung line appear to be a bit more comfortable with themselves, which isn't unexpected to me. This isn't to say that they're at all finished with their self-growth/self-discovery, but it's evident in their demeanors where the divide is between the hyungs vs. maknaes.
There's nothing revelatory about this, but it's a little interesting watching this with "fresh" eyes and at the same time knowing more about BTS than I did when I first watched this content.
Episode 2
What's immediately noticeable is their group dynamic. This was what was most fascinating to me as I was discovering BTS, and this was one of the few pieces of content I watched that confirmed it.
I was never fully invested in Kpop but had been exposed to some of the 2nd generation groups, but from memory alone, there were instances where the chemistry was off or nonexistent between certain members, or there was a very distinct hierarchy that made it difficult for me as a consumer to enjoy their antics. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but I personally have a tendency to gravitate away from dynamics that feel stilted. The fact that BTS gets along the way they do was an added incentive for me to learn more about them instead of not giving them that chance.
Jin is also intriguing as the eldest because he doesn't overtly act that way. Again, my take is somewhat influenced on what I knew of Kpop groups prior to BTS, where the eldest (and usually appointed leader) would often flaunt their status to get a leg up on the others or there would be a very clear deferral to the oldest by (one of) the youngest. Yes, a lot of the time the hierarchy is played up for humor, but for some groups you had to wonder how humorous it actually was or if there was precedence. This isn't a critique on Korea’s cultural hierarchy, but it's an example of many reasons why BTS was a novel discovery for me.
Side note: Jin will forever be WWH–forget the "it boy," he's the "it man”–but Jin in his early 20s? Have mercy.
What's also really likable about BTS, as further exampled in this episode, is how uncaring they are about their so-called image. Sure, it's embarrassing, but the fact they willingly lean into it is very adorable.
I know, I know, there's no talk of Jikook yet, but they don't have substantial interaction until, I think, Episode 6.
Episode 3
I'm honestly kind of mad that I wasn't with BTS since their debut. I think this applies to anything I do within this fandom, but any commentary I make would be very different had they occurred in the time these moments were happening.
Not much to comment on, but it's always fun to watch them have fun.
Jimin is adorable in this episode. There's something so frenetic about his energy, most likely characterized by his youth, but I think it's a point of interest to me because I wasn't immediately drawn to Jimin when I was learning about BTS; he was the third or fourth member that I got attached to, and I don't really understand how I glossed over him the first time. Although one of the more confusing things I've always thought about is how Jimin clearly enjoyed himself on the amusement rides but later on doesn't seem to enjoy thrill rides of any kind. It's not a big deal, but it's surprising to me because given the nature of thrill rides, if you start off liking them, you are more than likely to continue having fun with them unless you encounter a trigger that completely alters that sense of enjoyment.
Anyway, we also must give props to the editing. I think this episode perfectly highlights the sense of humor the editors have.
Next
Yes, I know. It’s quite anticlimactic. As much as I’d like to fast forward to the episodes with a bunch of things I could talk about, I do feel like it’s necessary to comb through everything from the beginning.
It’s hard to say how often I’ll be contributing to this series. It’s mostly a way to break up the content of asks/answers with more “original” stuff that fits the theme of this blog, so posts will happen... time permitting. In an ideal world, and if I were consistent, I’d do weekly or bi-weekly updates so I can move onto ITS or BV, but I’m extremely unreliable.
Suggestions and/or dialogue are always welcome.
#TAJ posts#TAJ series: Run#bts#run bts#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jung hoseok#kim namjoon#park jimin#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#ot7
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Mrs Z! Thank you for doing a Flip special!
What about throwing Flip a big surprise party with lots of people and he’s not happy about it. You make it up to him by letting him have his way with you before you cut the cake. Maybe he’s too into and gets carried away with being loud and noisy or gets caught somehow and that’s his birthday party, is his guests cheering his bedroom antics or roasting him.
2.6k; humor & NSFW (blowjobs/face fucking, hair pulling, come swallowing)
“I don’t remember you forgetting anything here.” Flip frowns, as he pulls the Chevy into his usual parking spot at the CSPD.
It’s his birthday, and he hadn’t taken the day off of work to avoid drawing any suspicion, so he’s a little irritated that when he gets all the fuckin’ way back home to you, finishes having the delicious dinner you cook for him, and he’s just about to ask if you want to engage in a little birthday love-makin’, that you groan and announce that it’s urgent he take you back to the station.
He already gets sour enough on his birthday as it is, but he had hoped that he could enjoy a quiet -- or maybe not so quiet -- evening in bed with his wife, just the two of you tucked up against one another to distract him from the passing of time.
“It was my Pyrex, I left it in the breakroom, it should be in the sink unless someone moved it.” You’re too determined to get the damn thing back, and Flip loves you, so Flip drove you in his truck that he parks, eyeing his work.
“And you want me to go in and get it?” He complains, deep voice too gravely for it to be a true whine, “Can’t I wait in the car?”
“You’re going to abandon your most beloved wife in her hour of need?” Your eyes are wide and clear and he hates how he gets lost in them, how he meant it when he said he’d do anything for you. He hates how you know it.
“That’s not fair.” Jabbing a finger in your direction, you only lean forward enough to cup his cheeks in your hands, sweetly pressing chaste kisses to his lips, your lashes brushing against his cheek as you draw him in with the smell of your perfume.
“Please?” Your voice is breathy in the way that makes Flip go weak in the knees, and even though he knows he’s being manipulated, he’s not mad about it.
“Fuck, alright fine.” He gives in, making you brighten up immediately as he turns the car off so the engine doesn’t idle, being sure to keep the windows cracked even though Colorado in May is a balmy sixty-five degrees. “You just, I don’t know, sit here and keep being pretty.”
“Yes sir.” You wink, and Flip isn’t so sure he likes the twinkle that he sees in your eye.
Walking through the CSPD lobby, he notices it’s quiet.
Too quiet.
No one is calling in emergencies, no one is typing away at their desks, no one is chatting by the water fountain. Something must be very very wrong, and Flip halfway wonders if there was some kind of national announcement, if Ford was making a speech somewhere.
His suspicion only grows, when he turns the corner to the break room, and opens the door frowning to himself and muttering, “Why are all the fuckin’ lights turned off?”
When he flicks the light switch, he’s so startled that he takes a step backwards, as seemingly the entire station jumps up to shout in his face a big loud, “Surprise!!”
“What the fuck -- ”
“Happy birthday Zimmerman!” All his friends and co-workers are there, the guys from the narcotics division, the folks down at homicide, all the higher ups, secretaries, rookies and seasoned pros alike.
Everyone gathered in this room that is way too small for them, organized by someone to give him a goddamn heart attack. A hand gently rubs at his back, and Flip whirls around to see you there.
“Is this your way of saying you want a divorce?” He jokes dryly, making the entire room chuckle, because really only Flip would have this sort of reaction.
“For the record this was not my idea.” You say, not wanting him to think the blood is on your hands, “Ron insisted. I tried to tell him.”
Ron steps forward then and hands Flip a card, one that he’s not going to open now because he’s sure he’d die from the embarrassment of floundering with the envelope in front of all these people, but he does bring Ron in for a hug.
“It’s signed by all of us here.” Ron gestures with one of those big handsome smiles of his, the kind that shows off all his teeth, and Flip doesn’t have the heart to be angry about all this attention to his face.
“Thank you.” He says instead, feeling so fucking out of his depth, completely out of his element, palms sweating as he reaches for you with a quiet pleading, “Ketsl?”
“I’m right here.” You whisper as you take his hand, grounding him in the present.
Everyone is looking at him, and it reminds him of when he had to give presentations in school. He doesn’t know what to say, the tips of his ears going crimson red.
“You guys didn’t have to do all this.” Flip pulls you tight against his side, his arm stretching across your shoulders. Maybe if he just holds you close enough, he can use you as a human shield for conversation, he thinks.
“We had no idea it was your birthday! No one ever can figure it out -- but don’t worry, we’ve put it in your file so we know for next year!” One of the older secretaries, Ms. Rosie, cheerfully pipes up, making dread creep up Flip’s spine.
He looks down at you, and you give him a sheepish smile. He wants to complain like the grouch that he was, but then his attention shifts to the big table of food and drinks that is spread out on the table against the wall of the break room.
“...Is that chocolate cake?” He tries not to sound too hopeful, and the break room laughs again, because even the strongest most stoic man truly can be lured in by cake.
“I made it for you special. We’ll do candles after everyone’s had a bite to eat!” You announce to the room, patting Flip’s back as the crowd begins to murmur excitedly amongst themselves, a queue forming for the hot fresh pizza. You lean up to whisper in Flip’s ear, “If you can play nice, I’ll give you one of your presents before we get to cut the cake.”
Raising his eyebrows at you, he blinks a little. The surprises just kept comin’, didn’t they?
“Can’t I get it now?” Flip tries, but you only chuckle and shake your head.
“Go say hello to everyone, and then meet me in the back of the file room.” Patting his back once again, you slip away, an incentive for him to get this over with as soon as possible.
Flip doesn’t think he’s ever shaken so many goddamn hands, or kissed so many cheeks in his life. On the one hand, it felt nice somewhere deep down inside, to know that so many of his co-workers decided to take part of this party. He felt valued and appreciated, even if he would have rathered this never happen in the first place, would have rathered to be in bed with you right now...which brings him to the other hand; he’s achingly hard in his fucking jeans, thinking about what’s waiting for him in the file room.
He doesn’t have to wait much longer though, because soon the last person has been spoken to and thanked, and he’s excusing himself to go to the “bathroom,” heading in the complete opposite direction of the bathroom.
“Ketsl, honey?” Flip prompts softly, looking around for you in the low light of the room, “You back here?”
“Took you long enough.” Your voice sounds from around the corner, and like a glass of cool water on a hot day, there you are, arms reaching out for him.
“Would’ve been sooner if you hadn’t invited so many fuckin’ people.” Flip lets himself be wrapped up in your embrace, his palms smoothing around your sides to caress your back, one of them dropping down to give your ass a firm squeeze.
“Ron did, not me. Like I said, he insisted.” You remind him, kissing your husband deeply, licking into his mouth, voice soft and breathy, “Let me make it up to you?”
The hair on the back of Flip’s neck stands up when you sink down to your knees, not breaking eye contact. He holds his breath, his cock twitching at the implications of that motion, pulse already starting to pound a little harder.
You rest your cheek against his strong thigh, popping open the button on his jeans, sliding the zipper down tantalizingly slow, making a real show of it. Flip hums, pets at your hair, smooths his palm against your cheek as he watches your eyelids grow heavy. You nuzzle against the palm there, suckling on his fingers just a little bit, teasingly, playfully.
“Oh fuck yes.” He quirks a little smile at you.
When you finally pull his dick out, you’re licking your lips, wetting them, drooling over yourself. He’s just as affected, pre-come already leaking out of the tip of his cock, and he groans when you swipe it up with your tongue. Time is of the essence here, and as much as you would like to drag this out, you can’t, so you cut right to the chase.
“Shit -- your moth’s so hot.” He grunts as your mouth opens wide wide wide for him, tongue flattening as you suck the head of his cock between your lips, careful of your teeth.
One of your hands braces yourself on his thigh, while the other holds the base of his cock, keeps him steady. Flip has a tendency to buck and choke you when he’s too wound up just like he is now, so the grip holds him in place as you swallow him down inch by inch.
Fuck, your husband’s dick is big! It’s not just long but thick too, the girth of it always something that has your jaw aching. You open your mouth wider to take him, relaxing your throat so that he can slip deeper and deeper, breathing through your nose. Never once looking away from him, you can see how antsy, how impatient Flip is getting, and if you could smile, you would.
But you can’t, because your mouth is filled to the absolute brim, so you tap the side of his thigh to signal that he can start moving.
“Yes!” He says maybe a little too loudly, “That’s it, oh fuck that’s it.”
And oh, does he fucking move. The second you’ve given him permission, he’s gripping your hair and thrusting hard. Moans and grunts pour out of his chest as he holds your head in both of his hands, keeps you snug against his groin. Your nose is nestled in his dark thatch of hair, and you can’t deny the way the musky smell gets you flustered, gets you wet. He’s not going to have time to fuck you properly here, but that’s okay -- this was only the preview of the evening to come.
“God you feel so fuckin’ good, my good girl, fuck -- ” Breathing hard and fast, Flip fucks your face hard, keeping you steady so that you don’t accidentally take him down at a wrong angle and splutter and cough.
Relaxing for him, you let yourself be used, the salty sweaty taste of his cock running over your tongue, plunging down your throat soothing and familiar in a fucked up way that only over a decade of marriage can bring.
“Fuck!” He snarls when your tongue wriggles against the veins that throb along his shaft, sucking down hard everything that you can, one of your hands moving to cup and roll his balls, “Oh baby that’s it, just like that, keep doin’ that, oh god your tight fuckin’ throat feels good.”
Tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes when it becomes so much that your jaw aches, and you squirm, wanting to be touched, wanting to be fucked even though you know you can’t have it yet. Right now is about him, about the pleasure he gets from the way you suck him down, and then you’re swallowing hard, and the friction has him cursing loud loud loud, coming down your throat.
“Damn, ketsl!” he pushes his cock all the way down your throat one last time, before pulling away to watch his come shoot all over your tongue, your lips, your chin. Painting your face with it, he grunts, pulling your hair to angle your face up some more, a better view. You stick your tongue out for him, and another pulse of come bursts out of his cock from the sight, his filthy fucking whore of a wife, love of his life, on your knees like his own personal pornstar.
You fucking look like one anyway, and you sure as shit sound like one with the way you’re moaning and breathing hard, nipples so hard that he can see the way your blouse peaks out from over them.
Wiping away the come on your face and licking it off your fingers, swallowing every drop of evidence that you can, you and Flip grin at one another, his orgasm having him in a much more pleasant mood.
“We should get back out there, huh.” He gives you a hand and hoists you off your knees, pulls you close and kisses the taste of his come off your lips.
“People are gonna wonder where you went.” You smile, giving him your lovey-dovey eyes, glad that he’s enjoyed at least one part of this surprise. “You can’t disappear at your own party. How do I look?”
“Too beautiful for your own good.” Pinching your nose and giving you face a little shake, the two of you leave the records room behind.
“Well well well, if it ain’t the lovebirds!” Sergeant Trapp announces the second that you and Flip walk back into the main lobby of the station where everyone has spread out with their food and drinks.
“You two really can’t go two seconds without goin’ at it like rabbits, can you?” Ron laughs, teasing in a way that has Flip’s scowl coming back after all your hard work.
“Mrs. Z I gotta admit I’m impressed you’re still standin’, that sounded like quite the time.” Jimmy winks at you, and you slap a hand to your face. You hadn’t even thought about the noise that you must’ve made -- all the shelves moving, the grunts and groans, the cursing.
“Watch your mouth Jim, or I’ll be forced to do something about it.” Flip warns, but there’s something warm in the threat, playful. You’re fuckin’ glad for that, the last thing you needed on Flip’s birthday was him getting fired for beating the shit out of his friend.
“Oh yeah like what? I’m surprised you’ve got the energy for threats, old man.” Jimmy only eggs him on, all eyes on the two of them.
“That’s it -- ” Flip lunges immediately, making you rush forward and grab him by the scruff of his neck, preventing a wrestling match, even if a friendly one.
“Boys please, have some cake and maybe you’ll calm down.” You roll your eyes.
“You know,” Flip says later, when you lead him through to the breakroom where someone’s lit a fuckton of candles in an attempt to guess how old he is, and you’re curled up on the couch next to him as he licks the frosting off of his fork, “I’m starting to think there never was any Pyrex.”
And it’s all that you can do to just kiss him and shut him up, letting him get away with being an idiot because he’s your birthday boy.
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Tagging some Flip friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars
#flip zimmerman#flip zimmerman x reader#flip zimmerman/reader#adam driver fanfic#adcu#blackkklansman#flip zimmerman imagine#flip zimmerman smut
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every single student in the world has likely procrastinated at some point - i know i definitely have! sometimes i think it can be quite helpful because means that you don't spend every minute of every day studying... but on the other hand, it can become very hard to beat. there are so many advice posts in the community on this topic but i thought that i would share my own tips!
disclaimer: everyone studies differently and these are my personal tips. they may not work for you but they can be a good starting point
What is Procrastination?
i found this little summary of procrastinating on the internet and thought it completely covered everything that i wanted to say on this point:
Procrastination is the habit of delaying an important task, usually by focusing on less urgent, more enjoyable, and easier activities instead. It is different from laziness, which is the unwillingness to act.
Procrastination can restrict your potential and undermine your career. It can also disrupt teamwork, reduce morale, and even lead to depression and job loss. So, it's crucial to take proactive steps to prevent it.
The first step to overcoming procrastination is to recognize that you're doing it. Then, identify the reasons behind your behavior and use appropriate strategies to manage and overcome it.
- How to Stop Procrastinating by Mindtools
so what is learnt from this is that:
procrastination is not being lazy
it is avoiding tasks by doing other easier tasks
it can have negative effects
you need to proactively take steps to avoid it
first, recognise the procrastinating then use strategies to break the cycle
Conventional Tips
these are the basic tips that are some of the most well-known strategies for ending procrastination and can be some of the most important steps!
1. get organised. tidy up your desk to study space because there is nothing worse than having to work in a place that is chaotic and mess. collect the information you need for the task, for example, notes you've made or a textbook.
2. to-do lists are your friend. a lot of people (including me) really struggle with timetables for studying because it can seem really structured and there is no flexibility or real allowance for things that may crop up during the day (your food takes longer to cook, you have to unexpectedly do a task around the house, you get a really bad headache and need to take a break). in my opinion, to-do lists help solve this problem! you can clearly see the tasks that you want to get done for the day but you don't have stressful time constraints. personally, i always use todoist to keep track of everything. to-do lists also make it easier to break tasks down
3. break the task down. one of the biggest cause of procrastination is having a huge task or project ahead of you because it seems really daunting and where on earth are you even going to start? so break it down *completely*. in your to-do list, don't just write ‘german homework’, write down even task that you need to do within it and be specific: for example ‘pg. 11 ex 4a, 4b and 4c’, ‘textbook listening task on pg. 47′ and ‘250-word essay on social media in Germany’. breaking it down makes the tasks seem more attainable and when you’ve done one and you can cross it off your list, it gives you a boost to keep going
4. eliminate distractions. this is a big one. even if you do all of the above, if you are constantly being distracted by things, you aren't going to get much done. try to find a place that is quiet enough that you can focus and you feel comfortable studying in. as well as this you need to think about what to do with your phone as the likelihood is that this will be the most distracting thing. you can simply turn it off, put on do not disturb, leave it in another room or use and app like forest (that last one is what i use and i don't know where i would be without it!)
5. use incentives. finishing a task is an achievement so treat it like one! before you study, decide on something that you will give yourself as a reward for doing it. this may be watching that new episode of your favourite programme or a tasty snack!
6. set timers. don't just launch yourself into a task, because that again can make it seem daunting and feel unending. rather, set a timer for a specific time because you’ll know that you just need to focus for that specific length of time and then you can go take a break and do something nice. for timing your study sessions, you could use the Pomodoro technique
7. allow for breaks (but try to avoid long ones). you are not a machine and as much as it would be great to be able to, you cant study for hours on end without giving your mind a break from focusing. so schedule in break time for yourself, particularly for times that you know your motivation dips, and do something nice. but be very careful that you don't accidentally slip back into procrastinating habits and keep breaks short. unless you are very disciplined it is unlikely that an hour-long break will stay just an hour.
8. know how you study but don’t be afraid to mix it up. everyone studies differently and so there are going to be some study methods that work better for some than others. so try to make sure that you are studying smart and that you aren't wasting your own time cause that can be incredibly unmotivating. HOWEVER, if there is anything that I’ve learnt from online school its that doing the same task all the time, every day is mind-numbingly boring and you just want to do anything else. so try to switch up what you are doing. if you usually just type notes from the textbook, maybe try doing it in a mindmap one week, or on flashcards, maybe do some practise questions to keep your mind engaged.
9. play music. now this one really depends on the person and how you study. some people need absolute silence and that is fine, but others need something to fill the silence or maybe cover up background noise (for example if you live in a busy household). try to pick music however that is not going to distract you - the key tips for this is to pick music without lyrics. this can be classical music, video game music, or general ‘chill’ music (there are so many playlists out there for chill studying music). i personally listen to Francesco Parrino religiously while studying because he does piano covers of pop songs, so i know the songs and enjoy them but there are no lyrics that can distract me
10. stay hydrated, well-rested and not hungry. this is part of eliminating distractions because if you are thirsty, you are going to be thinking about how you want a drink; if you are tired, you are going to be thinking about how tired you are; if you are hungry, you are going to be thinking about what you want for lunch or whatever. make sure you are hydrated, well-rested and not hungry so you can focus solely on your task or work.
Unconventional Tips
these are some slightly more unusual tips that you might not have seen before but that I've nevertheless found very useful!
1. video yourself or do a timelapse. this is something that I’ve only recently done because i saw a tip on this from someone during my quarantine challenge and thought that it would be cool to do. and it really works! i did it twice once when i was typing notes and a second time when i was handwriting notes and it really made me focus on what is as doing because the video put some pressure on me to look like i was properly studying - i could take a 5-minute break in the middle of my work to mess around with my pen, I just had to keep going so it really forces you to do the work. also watching the video when i was done made me really proud cause i had visual proof of how much i completed!
2. accept that some days you are going to get very little done. this may seem a little bit odd to put on a post that is meant to avoid getting nothing done but it’s actually a very important thing to remember. sometimes you need to take days off because otherwise you are going to burnout and some days you are just not going to be in the right mindset for studying because maybe you are exhausted after a big exam, or you have a headache or you feel unwell. you just need to accept it, draw a line under it, take time for yourself, and resolve yourself to work tomorrow once you feel a bit better. there is no shame in taking time to make sure you stay healthy. if you can, try to get your quickest, easiest task done so you have some sense of accomplishment.
3. ‘churn it out and f**k off’. this was my mum’s motto when she was studying and working in academia. and she recently told it to me when i was getting stressed about all the big tasks during online school. i am a perfectionist and i always want to hand in my very best work, put 100% into everything, but honestly that is impossible. some days you just need to get stuff done and if that isn't your very best then it doesn't matter too much because at least you got it done. and once you get it done you can just forget about it.
4. ask a friend or parent to check up on you. when you are studying by yourself it can be hard to motivate yourself because you know that no ones actually going to check whether you made those votes or did the reading, so ask a friend or someone you live with to check whether you've done the work or get them to read essays. you then get an external reason to study or do your tasks because you need to show them something.
5. rephrase how you think of tasks. when you think that ‘you need to do this task’ or ‘you have to get this done’, a lot of the time this causes unneeded stress and anxiety that is not going to help you at all. also it makes it seem like you are being forced to do something and human beings generally don't act great when they are forced to do something. so try to change your language when thinking about task into one that is more forgiving such as ‘i choose to do this project so that i can go meet my friends tomorrow’ and ‘i choose to read this book now because it will help me in the lecture next week’. this is probably the most difficult strategy on this list and it will take a lot of practice (i am certainly still practising it) but in the long term, it can help you change the way in which you view studying for the better.
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i hope this was helpful and that these tips will be useful, and perhaps you've discovered some new ones! if anyone has anything to add please feel free to reply or reblog with the advice <3
#how to stop procrastinating#procrastination#studyblr#my advice#sophie speaks#me#mine#student#study motivation#motivation#study advice#studying#study tips#high school#university#myhoneststudyblr#studyblr support#problematicprocrastinator#heypat#adelinestudiess#eintsein#einstetic#heycoral#stuhde#philologystudies#idiotacademia#studyvan#bentostudy#elleandhermione#sonderstudy
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Make A Scene
AMHL – Masterlist
Dick immediately noticed when Y/N started getting quieter and quieter as they got closer and closer to the venue.
Bruce had hired a driver to pick them up from their apartment in Gotham. And the car had gone quiet now.
Dick reached over to gently hold her hand.
“Nervous?” He asked.
Y/N shrugged, not really seeing the point in trying to lie to her boyfriend.
“This isn’t your first rodeo, ya know.”
She gave him a look. “You know that wasn’t the same.” Her eyes flickered to the driver. “I wasn’t exactly…myself. And I wasn’t your girlfriend.”
Also, tonight they didn’t have the security and comfort of being at Wayne Manor.
No, instead this particular event was being held at the ballroom of Gotham’s most extravagant five-star hotel. It was a party for Wayne Enterprises, not a personal charity or party of the Wayne family.
Bruce had kindly asked Dick and Y/N to attend when board members and business partners started asking if the whole family would be attending. Jason hadn’t answered anyone’s calls or texts about it. None of them expected him to show up. Tim had to attend since he worked for Wayne Enterprises. And Damian…Well, Damian was his father’s son and not yet an adult. He basically had to do whatever Bruce asked of him while he lived under his roof.
“I’m not gonna leave your side,” Dick promised.
He squeezed her hand to further emphasize it.
Their car pulled up to the carpet at the bottom of the stairs.
There had to be a hundred journalists and photographers, along with random civilians who had nothing better to do than to see Gotham’s elite get out of cars and walk into a hotel.
Dick took in a deep breath.
Thankfully the car’s windows were tinted and protected them from any onlookers.
“Ready?” He asked her.
She nodded.
Dick opened the door and ignored the screams and flashes as he carefully helped Y/N out of the car with his offered hand. He also shielded her from the photographers to give her a moment to get out and adjust herself before they could capture any photos of her.
“Mr. Grayson! Mr. Grayson! Who is your mystery girlfriend?” Someone yelled.
Sometimes Y/N forgot that Dick was somewhat of a celebrity in Gotham City through association.
It wasn’t like people were asking for selfies everywhere he went. Or that the paparazzi were following his every move.
But in Gotham, people took note of where Dick Grayson went and who he was with.
And everyone noticed he’d had the same woman on his arm for quite some time now.
Even though Y/N and Dick had been dating for over a year, the media still couldn’t figure out Y/N’s identity.
What they didn’t realize was that she controlled every single piece of information about herself that lived on the internet.
They didn’t stand a chance.
Dick smiled and waved at people who called his name. But his hand other hand never left Y/N’s as he helped her up the stairs.
“Who are you wearing?” A female journalist yelled at Y/N.
She ignored them and focused on getting up the stairs without tripping and face planting. Not that Dick would ever let that happen.
However, she knew her outfit was going to draw gazes.
Y/N had made a promise to herself that if she was going to be forced to attend events like this with Dick, then she was going make a statement. People were already going to be staring at her, so she figured she might as well give them something good to stare at.
Instead of wearing a typical cocktail and formal dress, Y/N wore a full men’s suit that was tailored to perfection, but with the bowtie undone. It was what the fashion magazines would describe as “androgynous” in the press tomorrow morning.
Y/N wanted to control her own narrative. And she’d rather be judged for her bold decisions than just her trying to blend in.
Bruce insisted on paying for all the boys’ date’s dresses – in this case, suit – if they happened to bring one. He always thought it was more of an incentive for them to attend these terrible events if he encouraged them to bring significant others. And the press always had a field day with it, which only helped throw people of their trail when it came to their secret lives as vigilantes.
Everyone kept screaming Dick’s name as they walked in, and Y/N wondered how he got so good at smiling through the chaos and ignoring them.
Once they were inside, Dick felt the tension leave Y/N’s body a bit.
“Alcohol?” He offered with a smirk.
“Yes, please.”
He nodded, knowing it was exactly what she needed.
Quickly, he grabbed two champagne flutes off a passing waiter.
They clinked glasses.
Then he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Thank you for being my date.”
Y/N smiled at his sincerity.
Dick sighed before he threw back the champagne, “The quicker we find Bruce and prove we were here, the sooner we can leave.”
“Try not to sound so excited,” she laughed darkly.
Suddenly felt a small human wrap around her thighs.
Y/N gasped in excitement, “Dami!”
Dick smiled as he looked down at his 10-year-old brother hugging his girlfriend.
“Dick gave me the drawing you made for us. It’s so beautiful. I’m trying to find the perfect frame for it,” she told the boy.
Damian beamed with pride at that.
Suddenly the boy started asking a million questions about Stoker, one of his kittens that he’d given to them to take care of when Bruce gave a limit to how many cats Damian was allowed to have in the manor.
Then, to Dick’s shock, he saw Jason slowly walk over to them with his hands in his pant pockets.
He was not at all dressed nice enough for the event. No suit jacket. No tie. His white button-up shirt wrinkled, messily tucked into his pants, and with two many buttons undone. The sloppiness of it all clearly wasn’t an issue with the women, seeing as all of them were ogling Jason.
“Todd,” Damian greeted coldly, pausing his conversation with Y/N, who whipped around at the name.
“Hey, you,” Y/N smiled as she went to greet him.
Jason gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek and a quick hug.
“I really didn’t think you were coming,” Dick told his brother.
“Well, I wasn’t. But I got a business engagement.”
Y/N and Dick shared a confused look.
“What do you mean?” Dick asked.
“I found my neighbor crying on her fire escape a few nights ago. Apparently… one of the finance bros of Wayne fucking Enterprises was everything but a gentleman to her.”
Y/N’s eyes widened in realization. “J, I already took care of that.”
“I know,” Jason nodded as his eyes scanned the room. He was clearly on a personal mission tonight. “You deleted the evidence. I am teaching him a lesson.”
Dick slowly put together what they were implying.
“Oh, please don’t make a scene, Jason.” Dick begged him.
Because he knew Bruce wouldn’t be dealing with the aftermath; it would be him.
“Don’t worry!” Jason laughed. "I’m gonna take him outside before I beat the shit out of him. No one here will even notice. It’ll be fine,” Jason assured him as he gave Dick a far too heavy slap on the back.
“Just tell Bruce and he’ll get him fired,” Dick tried to convince him to take the less violent route.
“Oh, we already did,” Y/N muttered.
Dick’s gaze shot to his girlfriend.
“He’s getting fired on Monday,” she clarified sheepishly.
“Since when do the two of you work together behind my back?” Dick accused them.
But he wasn’t actually mad about anything – maybe just a little bit bitter.
Jason opened his mouth.
“I swear to God, Jason, if you say ‘club business,’ I will lose it…” Dick warned.
Y/N tried to hide her smile.
“Got him,” Jason growled as he glared at someone on the other side of the room.
As soon as he left them, Dick gave Y/N his full attention.
“Seriously?” He accused.
“I’m sorry! He asked me for a favor and I was happy to do it once I realized what it was,” Y/N defended.
Dick pouted a little. Mostly because he hated being left out.
“Don’t worry, ya big baby. I’m still your ‘guy in the chair’ and no one else’s,” she teased before giving him a kiss, immediately wiping the lipstick off his lips.
“How come Jason gets to beat up people at events like this, but I’m expected to behave like a well-trained dog?” Damian mumbled.
Dick sighed and shook his head.
“Jason likes to think he’s a lone wolf who doesn’t have to play by the rules,” Y/N tried to comfort the boy.
To distract Damian from getting further into how unfair it was, Y/N asked him to show her more of his drawings.
This seemed to please Damian and he pulled his phone out, flipping through photos and showing Y/N his recent sketches.
With Y/N being entertained by his youngest brother, Dick decided to go to the bar and get the two of them a stronger drink and maybe get a kiddie cocktail for Damian. He’d pretend to be patronized and annoyed by it, but Dick knew better.
He patiently waited for the bartender’s attention.
“So Gotham’s Golden Boy really has returned…” a husky voice uttered beside him at the bar.
Dick glanced over to see a beautiful woman close to his age eyeing him.
It was clear what she wanted. Dick used tactics like this on countless missions.
“So I have,” he answered.
He was polite, but distant.
Women hitting on him at events like this was nothing new. To Gotham, Dick Grayson was a Bruce Wayne 2.0 – younger, just as charming and handsome as his mentor and stand-in father figure.
Dick knew how to play the game. But he never had any interest in casual relationships like Bruce did.
“Back for good?” The woman persisted.
“My girlfriend and I are just in town for a few weeks,” he answered before ordering his drinks with the bartender finally.
“Oh, brought up the girlfriend rather quickly,” she laughed.
Dick quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”
“No, it’s just…my friends and I had a bet going.”
Then she pointed to a group of three young women, who were giggling and smiling, not even trying to pretend like they weren’t watching them closely.
“Oh, yeah?” Dick asked, already tired of this conversation.
--
Jason had already rejoined Y/N and Damian.
Y/N looked down to see his knuckles red with irritation and bruised.
“Please tell me there’s not a corpse in the alley behind this hotel now…” Y/N sighed.
“No,” Jason answered coldly. “Though there fucking should be.”
“What did he do?” Damian asked curiously, clearly he hadn’t been listening to their earlier conversation that closely.
Y/N shifted her weight in discomfort, not sure how to handle the subject with the boy. Yes, Damian was far more mature than many grown men, but he was still just a kid. There were some things Y/N felt like they should at least try to protect him from still.
“He got my neighbor too drunk to consent, filmed them having sex without her knowing it, and then showed it to a bunch of people at their work,” Jason answered bluntly.
Damian’s brow furrowed, clearly thinking long and hard about what his brother just told him.
After a moment, the boy perked up, “I know where we could hide the body so even father won’t find out.”
“Damian!” Y/N scolded.
But Jason was beaming.
Y/N looked around for Dick, hoping to find another sane person to stop the two boys from actually murdering anyone tonight.
But when she finally spotted him, she saw a woman standing far too close to Dick and pointing to a group of girls who flirtatiously waved and winked at both of them.
“Real cute,” Y/N muttered to herself.
“Vultures,” Damian growled as he followed her gaze.
“Jason, if I leave you alone with Damian, are you going to kill someone?” She asked without taking her eyes off her boyfriend.
“I don’t need to be watched,” Damian groaned.
“No, I need you to watch Jason to make sure he doesn’t change his mind about keeping that asshole alive.”
“Fine,” Damian whined.
Without any further confirmation, Y/N left them.
She walked across the party on a mission, never taking her stare off of her boyfriend.
Dick did a double take when he noticed her heading towards him.
“Hey,” he greeted innocently.
Because he was innocent. All he’d done was be polite to a bunch of women who were after him for his name…and maybe his good looks.
“I was wondering where my drink was,” Y/N said with a surprising calmness and smile.
Then she turned to the woman.
“Hi, I’m Y/N. You must be a friend of Dick’s.”
She held her hand out.
No cattiness. No rudeness.
Y/N said it with the same kindness that drunk women having with other drunk women in bar bathrooms.
“Oh…I’m Irina,” the woman stuttered as she took Y/N’s offered hand, clearly confused by Y/N’s niceness.
Dick held out her drink.
Y/N took it, quickly clinked her glass with both Dick and Irina.
“Cheers,” she sang before tossing it back and chugging the drink that was meant to be slowly sipped.
Dick didn’t know what game his girlfriend was playing, but he was intrigued.
Once Y/N lightly placed her empty glass back on the bar, she turned to Dick and tilted her head to the side. “Could you show me to the bathrooms? I have no idea where they are.”
“Of course,” Dick answered without knowing where this was going.
“It was nice meeting you, Irina,” Y/N told the woman as she linked her fingers with Dick’s and guided him away.
—
Meanwhile, Jason watched the interaction as if he were watching an award-winning movie. Him and Damian were way too far to hear, but everyone in the bat family could read lips more than fluently.
Then Jason smirked as he watched Y/N drag Dick away.
“Boys,” Bruce greeted as he snuck up on the two of them. “What are we staring at?”
“Oh, you know,” Jason hummed with hilarity, “just watching Y/N assert her dominance.”
“Good for her,” Bruce grinned as he realized what was happening.
He moved his attention to his youngest boy. “Alfred is waiting outside with the car. You’re officially released from your duties.”
“Finally,” Damian groaned.
“Don’t you wanna say bye to Y/N?” Jason asked.
“They’re coming to the manor tomorrow afternoon,” Bruce answered for his son. Then he raised a brow at Jason. “You’re welcome to join us.”
Jason’s only response was a shrug.
Bruce tried to hide his disappointment and nodded before he guided Damian away and walked him outside, where Alfred was waiting.
10 minutes later, Jason saw Dick trailing behind Y/N as she walked back to the main area of the event.
Jason burst out laughing at the spectacle.
Dick’s hair was an absolute mess. Half of his shirt was untucked. His jacket was draped over his forearm. His lips were swollen and pink. Y/N had left lipstick all over his neck and even a bit on the collar of his shirt.
Yet somehow not a single hair was out of place on Y/N and her makeup was still immaculate. Her outfit was just as sleek and clean as when she’d arrived. The only thing different was the proud smirk on her lips.
Clearly Y/N had just had her way with Dick.
But she wanted to make sure the whole party knew about it.
—
Y/N hadn’t said a word to Dick since she dragged him from that woman.
Her body did all the talking.
One second they were at the bathroom doors, the next Y/N had thrown him against the tiled wall after locking the bathroom door.
She gave no verbal explanation, just started kissing him and undoing his pants.
“Not that I’m complaining. Like, at all,” Dick laughed as they rejoined the party. “But wanna to tell me what that was all about?”
Y/N finally stopped walking and turned to face him with narrowed eyes. “I think you know, Richard.”
Y/N only ever used his full first name to provoke and tease him. And he hated that it worked every single time.
Dick glanced around to see that everyone in their vicinity was eyeing them. Well, they were mostly eyeing him and how it was clear he’d just been fucked in the bathroom.
He stepped close to her and lowered his voice, “Ohhh, I see how it is.” His eyes flickered down to her lips for a split second. “If a guy does that, he’s jealous and possessive. But if a woman does it, it’s sexy…”
Y/N proudly smiled like the cheshire cat. “Exactly.”
Something over his shoulder caught her attention. “Oh, I see Tim. I’m going to go say hi.”
Without hesitation, she brushed past him.
Dick let his head fall, put his hands on his hips, and laughed.
He’d pay her back later tonight. And by ‘pay her back,’ he would just tell her how incredibly hot her behavior had been and basically invite her to do it whenever she damn well pleased.
Dick felt a presence beside him, and he didn’t have to raise his head to know it was Bruce.
“Hey,” Dick greeted him nonchalantly.
“You have lipstick all over your neck,” Bruce told him as he took a sip of his drink and looked around the party. “And your zippers down.”
“Sure is,” Dick sighed.
--------------------------
OK. This was way too fun to write.
Let me know what you think!!!
ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE
#all men have limits#AMHL bonus content#make a scene extension#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson reader insert#nightwing x reader#nightwing reader insert#jason todd and platonic!reader#jason todd x platonic!reader#batfam#batboys#bruce wayne x platonic!reader#bruce wayne and reader
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Debunking the arguments for vaccine apartheid
The Biden administration’s (carefully worded) support for a WTO IP waiver on vaccines may not be the full-throated support the issue warrants, but it was still a complete reversal of decades of subservience to Big Pharma, and the industry is waging all-out war.
The arguments against allowing poor countries to make their own vaccines are a mix of racist condescension (“poor brown people are too primitive to make high-tech vaccines”), misdirection (“patents aren’t the problem”) and bad faith (“we don’t have enough materials”).
Writing for Counterpunch, Sonali Kolhatkar teases apart each of these arguments. Take the argument that poor countries can’t make vaccines — laughable on its face, given India’s centrality to the world’s vaccine supply.
https://www.counterpunch.org/2021/05/20/why-big-pharmas-arguments-against-patent-waivers-dont-add-up/
The problem isn’t that India doesn’t know how to make vaccines — the problem is that India’s brutal, variant-driven outbreak has caused the country to hit pause on exports, halting the supply of vaccines to much of sub-Saharan Africa.
https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2021/05/biden-has-power-vaccinate-world/618802/
The idea that poor countries are especially prone to unsafe practices that make people hesitant to get vaccinated is pretty rich, given the US experience, where government cronies raked in millions of dollars while spoiling millions of vaccine doses.
https://arstechnica.com/science/2021/05/emergent-got-27m-a-month-to-prep-vaccine-plant-then-ruined-15m-jj-doses/
Countries in the Global South can make their own vaccines, but only if the WTO green-lights it. It’s not enough for Moderna to promise not to enforce its patents, because the WTO can still do it for them, raining down terror on poor countries.
Pharma has some very high-profile champions, and chief among them is Bill Gates, who evidently sees defending “IP” in principle as the key to advancing his ideological agenda, both personally and through his foundation.
I discussed Gates’s ideology in depth in this interview with Luke Savage for Jacobin, where I explore the core idea of “IP” as an ideological construct: that the law should empower firms to control their customers, competitors and critics.
https://jacobinmag.com/2021/05/cory-doctorow-interview-bill-gates-intellectual-property
IP is the tip of the spear for all right-wing ideology, which Corey Robin clearly identified in THE REACTIONARY MIND: the belief that some people are born to rule, and others to be ruled over, and any attempt to thwart destiny makes us all worse off.
https://coreyrobin.com/the-reactionary-mind/
That’s why Gates personally intervened to scuttle the Oxford team’s plan to make its publicly funded vaccine research free to all, coercing them into doing an exclusive license deal with Astrazeneca.
https://khn.org/news/rather-than-give-away-its-covid-vaccine-oxford-makes-a-deal-with-drugmaker/
AZ promised to sell vaccines at cost to the Global South…once it’s done providing doses to rich countries. This is also the premise behind Gates’s COVAX initiative, whereby poor countries can register for donations from philanthropists, corporations and wealthy countries.
As Gates describes it: “Some of the rich countries including the US and the UK, even this summer will get to high vaccination levels and that’ll free up so that we’re getting vaccines out to the entire world in late 2021 and through 2022.”
https://news.sky.com/story/covid-19-bill-gates-hopeful-world-completely-back-to-normal-by-end-of-2022-and-vaccine-sharing-to-ramp-up-12285840
That’s the deal that Gates — and other COVAX boosters — want: poor people shouldn’t expect to help themselves. They should “wait their turn.” Some are born to rule, some are born to be ruled over, and upending this natural order will do no good.
Whether driven by greed, racism or ideology, this is not a folly the world can afford. Allowing continued spread through the 125 poorest countries (pop 2.5b) will kill hundreds of thousands, if not millions. 2021 is on track to have a higher covid death-count than 2020.
Even if you identify with the rulers, and not the ruled-over, this is madness. Every time the virus infects someone, it undergoes millions, even billions of replications. Each replication carries a small chance of mutation.
Each mutation has a small chance of becoming more virulent, more lethal, more vaccine-resistant. No one is safe on a half-vaccinated planet. You can’t declare only one end of the swimming pool to have a “no pissing” end.
The fact that COVAX backers claim that once the rich world has been vaccinated there will be capacity to vaccinate the rest of the world reveals the bad faith in the argument that the world doesn’t have the raw materials to make vaccine doses for all.
Adopting COVAX instead of a WTO waiver means that access to vaccines can come with strings attached — demands to privatize publicly owned infrastructure or knuckle under to other demands. A WTO waiver would put poor countries in charge of their own destiny.
The Gates camp is big on being in charge of your own destiny — if you’re one of the born rulers. Just listen to how Gates and ghouls like Howard Dean talk about how strong protections for their privileges provide the “incentives” needed to produce live-saving vaccines.
https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/08/howard-dino/#the-scream
Nevermind that mRNA vaccines owe their existence to tens of billions of dollars in public investment, with the monopolistic pharma companies only coming in after all the risk was shouldered by what Mariana Mazzucato calls “the entrepreneurial state.”
https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/15/how-to-rob-a-bank/#roll-the-dice
It’s a point that was beautifully made by Rep Katie Porter with one of her trademark whiteboard-based Congressional grillings of the CEO of pharma company Abbvie during a hearing on price-gouging.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aabrV1OmLU0
Porter asks the CEO how much money his company spends on R&D, marketing, compensation and stock-buybacks and other forms of financial engineering. She already knows the answers, and has circles of colored construction-paper ready to show the relative spending.
All of this builds to a triumphant climax in which Porter affixes a vast blue circle representing “Stock buybacks and dividends” to her Whiteboard of Justice, a circle so big it dwarfs everything else on the board.
The vaccine manufacturers absorbed billions in public cash and have told their shareholders to expect a rosy future in which they charge $175/dose for annual boosters. Their CEOs took home tens of millions in bonuses based on those promises.
Those are the true stakes here: not “IP” as an incentive for those who were born to rule to deign to develop the medicine we all need. We get that from public funding, from competition, and from the scientists who do the real work — not the executives who privatize it.
The cost of letting poor countries control their own epidemiological destiny is depriving monopolists of that control.
The advantages of putting vaccine manufacturing in the hands of the Global South, on the other hand…
Those are the true stakes here: not “IP” as an incentive for those who were born to rule to deign to develop the medicine we all need. We get that from public funding, from competition, and from the scientists who do the real work — not the executives who privatize it.
The cost of letting poor countries control their own epidemiological destiny is depriving monopolists of that control.
The advantages of putting vaccine manufacturing in the hands of the Global South, on the other hand…
Saving millions of lives
Preventing vaccine-resistant, more lethal variants
Giving people control over their own destiny rather than making them beg with multinational corporations and elite philanthropists for their very lives
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