#im always adding and changing things

[kanos]

WIP DAY

i was tagged by the lovely @marivenah and @leviiackrman to post a wip and i’m gonna be annoying about it but yeah i’ve been writing but not finishing anything lmaooo so here i guess

idk who to tag but uuuh @chuckhansen @natesofrellis @queennymeria @indorilnerevarine @unholymilf @aartyom @visenyatargaryn @sstewyhosseini or don’t idk

idk anyways heres something i started this morning on a whim. needs a lot of editing but like... i was working in between breaks at work

Maxine x Ghost + Soap (but more about maxi and soaps relationship) it’s a bit angsty but like.... it should be.

--

“Maxi, stay on target.” Ghost was there, a comforting whisper in her ear, desperate to keep her grounded, but he seemed so far away. 

Maxine examines the man before her and she feels violently ill, her stomach churning and her hands shaking. He looks the same- a slight difference with his hair, his clothes a little neater- but the same. He smiles, but it’s only out of forced politeness and it makes her skin crawl. 

“Maxine. It’s great to see you, love.” Liar. It’s not. Neither of them were happy about the encounter and she wished he’d stop pretending like he didn’t have a part in making her the way she was. “How have you been?”

“Maxi, how copy?”

Slowly her gaze moves away from her ex and to the building behind him, where she spots the looming figure of Ghost, a confused and worried Soap, and a screaming and furious Piper in the third story window. Soap moves away from sight quickly while her sister is still shouting and glaring in their direction. She lingers on the unreadable Lieutenant and she wants to respond to him- to ask for help- but a harsh tsk captures her attention. “I can see you haven’t changed.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” She questions quickly, narrowing her eyes at his change of tone. 

He laughs in annoyance and shakes his head. “As emotionless as always. You can’t even fake being happy to see me? You were always good at that.”

The words sting, but she chooses to ignore them to answer his question. “Why would I? You left me.” As the last bit left her, her eyes turned to the woman at his side she hadn’t noticed a moment ago. At least they managed to stay together. 

“Don’t start.” He warns, tugging the woman closer as if she wasn’t also responsible. She had known he was married. “You want to know why I left you?”

No. She was there, she knew why, and nothing he did or said would ever cause her to acknowledge it. Nothing she did was ever good enough. Her gaze flickers back to Ghost and she’s struck by an irrational fear of him being able to hear about her flaws and a past version of herself that she wasn’t proud of. That if he knew just how damaged she really was, he wouldn’t want anything to do with her. That he wouldn’t want her. 

“You aren’t remotely capable of love.” He starts, a look in his eyes as if his intention was to hurt her. “The only person you’ve ever cared about was your sister- constantly following her around like some traumatized fucking puppy. Hell, you enlisted because of her. Did you ever think about what I wanted? You couldn’t tell me you loved me- you didn’t love me. And then you did this to yourself!” He waves his hand towards her face and she reflexively took a step back. 

An arm wraps around her waist to steady her and she doesn’t recoil from the touch. “Is there a fucking problem here?” Soap asks loudly in his deep and rough Scottish accent. “Because I’ll start fucking problems.” 

[anemonet]

pro tip: you can always put the bugs in little outfits :thumbsup:

[haomnyangz]

Would I be able to straighten out the errors and mistakes and save all of us? I didn't grasp the depth and weight of this question. It was true that I desperately wanted to save all of us. No one deserves to die, to despair, to be suppressed, and to be despised. On top of that, they were my friends. We might've had our flaws and scars and have been twisted up and distorted. We might've been nobodies. But we were alive. - Seokjin – 2 May Year 22 HYYH; THE NOTES

[lovely-english-rose]

when did the tumblr culture around asks change so much? ive been thinking about it alot recently and its something i already do think about time to time, like... what happened? they used to be such a huge part of the community and suddenly fell off.

i think in 2024 maybe we should work to bring back the larger ask culture. start more random conversations with others, create and share more ask games, maybe say something nice to the people you follow, drop off a silly meme or just pop in and say hi!

[headfullof-ideas]

Soft follow-up to my Monumential post. We don’t know much about Lemuria and the Monumentials themselves, aside from the fact that Lemuria sank six thousand years prior to the show, and the Monumentials have been around for at least a little longer than that. Long enough that Lemuria already had more than one device to control them, and effectively enough that it seemed to be a somewhat militant thing. At least that’s what the intention was when the Benthos line tried to usurp Doreus.

But that’s all we know. There’s not much information about how long the Monumentials had been around, or what Lemuria was like in regard to the rest of the world. Which means it’s a whole entire sandbox for us six fans to play with. I’ve already talked about how I also like to imply that the Monumentials aren’t from this world, but I also like to play with Lemuria’s origins, the Nekton and Benthos’s families connection to one another, and all sorts of other stuff. Each AU I have tends to have slightly different origins or functions when it comes to Lemuria and the Monumentials lore, but I’ve built an entire background for the Monumentials and how they’re linked to Lemuria’s history.

I’m writing this because I’ve been revising and editing my Subnautica/The Deep story, and all the above is pretty important to the story itself, aside from a few tweaks to make it fit with the games lore

[megumi-fm]

.

[skrunksthatwunk]

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.

[coriander-candlesticks]

I'm sick so I'm sorry if this doesn't make sense, but I've been thinking about the nature of myths recently as I've been exploring hellenic polytheism.

For context: I'm ex-Mormon. I was raised in the church and, because of that, was taught biblical literalism but in, like, a more subtle way than most? I was raised believing that Adam & Eve and Noah's Ark, etc., were literally true, but that the story of Job specifically was not; I also always knew evolution and the Big Bang to be correct, despite there being a verse in the Doctrine & Covenants (a Mormon-specific religious book) where God apparently told Joseph Smith that the world is 6,000 years old- a passage I didn't know existed until my senior year of high school. I didn't realize I had believed in biblical literalism until I'd left the church, actually.

Now that I'm aware of it, it's a mindset I'm actively trying to combat while I explore Hellenic polytheism. It's definitely been a task to separate the nature of the Gods from their myths, as brutal as they often are. And it's something I've noticed within the community, too, which I think is interesting. It makes sense: Christianity, at least, has had a chokehold on much of the world for a long time, and so many of us have experienced literalism as our first interaction with any sort of holy text (though, of course, Greek myths as a whole aren't that) alongside our first experience with divinity as a wrathful God whose flaws are waved away, or ignored, or twisted into positive attributes. This also means that I'm trying to re-approach several deities with an open mind (Zeus, Hera, and Ares in particular, but many of them to some extent) while also trying to un-condition myself. I was already in the process of doing this, of course, but trying to figure out how to interact with a completely different pantheon has made that especially clear.

It extends to things like prayer and offerings, too. Prayers were very formulaic growing up, even though most of the time there wasn't a strict script to follow. There was always something you ask as part of the prayer, even if it's just 'please help me do better tomorrow' (alongside giving thanks, of course), so trying to craft a prayer without adding *everything* I'm used to including in makes it feel incomplete and, therefore, disrespectful. And daily prayer is something I'm resistant to because of prior experiences with it. I don't want to offend any of the gods by asking for something or asking for too much, especially so early on, and there's always a promised offering the few times I *have* asked. Add worries about exact obedience on top of that and it's proving to be a difficult thing to untangle. And I know that the gods are difficult to offend, figuring out how to do this takes trial & error and that's okay, it'll get better the more I do it, etc., etc.; this is more an issue with my own overthinking than anything else (hooray for ✨ mental health issues ✨). I'm not really asking for advice here, necessarily, just thinking out loud because I'm not comfortable talking to people in meat space about it yet.

[gayest-squrrel]

you take the moon ! you take the sun ! you mess with me you're gonna get the GUN !

reblogs over likes

[bibleofficial]

amazon is off their shit w the way they put ads in everything i HATE how the new ‘premium model’ is just … without ads. like buy an amazon fire tv & have ads built into ur television. a billboard in ur living room

[miamicommune]

thinking abt how nemesis kind of sets up what should be the most thematically interesting ambition in FL and how quickly that fades as it goes

[todayisafridaynight]

Plushie anon again here, THERES A HOODIE? I'm also getting hopeful bc the plushie specifically says 3 but uses his dragon engine (for the cards) and unreal engine hair color...suspicious

yep, alongside ones for akiyama and ichiban ! it's a part of a lottery though so there isn't a guaranteed way to get one yet but it exists

and in case you missed it here are the clan pins including the hakuho clan- you actually can pre-order these right now !

on the note about his hair color though, i wonder why they've made it black. i love his chestnut hair so much more.....

[gurorori]

um

[bluupxels]

running a cc finds blog that’s the scale of maxismatchccworld or lana’s is probably a lot of work but i think i would have so much fun like having all those categories and finding the cc and giving it the right tags... it would be so satisfying 😩

[rxttenfish]

canon is very very fucking mean about miranda and i really wish it would stop that

[puppyeared]

this is the kind of thing ive been trying to put into words for years when i try to tell people what kind of stories i want. i hope you dont mind if i add on to this, but as an aroace who loves soulmate aus, id love to read a soulmate story that expands on this.

what if soulmate marks are something youre hardly conscious of, whether you have one or not? if youre destined to meet your soulmate when youre 58, is it worth it to see other people despite that? if you meet your soulmate in kindergarten, would you feel the rest of your life feeling tied down or think nothing of it? what if people shared soulmates, and you found yours in a group of friends? what if you get your soulmark at a tattoo parlor, perhaps not to will something into existence, but to avoid awkward questions and pitying looks? what if soulmates could be earned, and one day you wake up with a mark on your wrist because someone decided you're important to them?

how does this shape our expectations for love or sense of privacy? do strangers sometimes helpfully check your nape or the back of your ear "to see if you missed a spot," despite how creepy and uncomfortable it feels? do our eyes gravitate to fingers for rings when we form our impression of someone? are we supposed to fall in love with our soulmates, or can they be a friend with benefits or a best friend?

everybody’s always on writing prompts like “what if there was a world where everyone had a timer ticking down to their death… but you met someone whose timer said infinity!” or “what if everyone had their cause of death tattooed across their forehead… but you met someone whose forehead said THE CREATURE!” Enough -

enough. stop with the shock value. there is no need to insert THE CREATURE; the benign concept of such a world is horrifying enough. not even in urgency, but just in banal, everyday interaction. imagine you meet someone and their timer says two years. not tomorrow, not urgently soon, but two years. enough to do quite a lot. they could fall in love in that time - could they get engaged? have a baby? you might otherwise get to know them, befriend them, but perhaps you opt not to, make a conscious choice not to invest in your own grief. what balancing act would every individual person have to participate in - I have ten years, is that long enough to be a good mother to children? is that long enough to secure a caretaker for my own mother? my wife will die a few months before me. my newborn’s timer reads nineteen years.

and cause of death. you interview for a job and emblazoned across the healthy, smiling face of the HR lady is MALNUTRITION. your country is prospering, safe, but every person you meet on the street from the babies to the old women read BOMB. BOMB. what kind of havoc would fate wreak on the world? what about the loss of privacy? how would that shape our notions of hope? idk man I think a lot of those ancient poems were right, and the fates are monsters. I’m interested by the framing of these ideas as trite horror tales when the premises themselves are so much more disturbing if simply taken to their logical ends