#so drafts it is!

[hinamie]

trick or treat!

[shorthaltsjester]

Critical Role: 10 Years of Storytelling

Campaign 1, Episode 115, "The Chapter Closes." // Taliesin Jaffe, in "As D&D booms, 'Critical Role' makes its own kind of nerd celebrity" by Sarah Parvini // Campaign 3, Episode 31, "Breaking Point" // On Loving by Forugh Farrokhzad, tr. Sholeh Wolpé // The Legend of Vox Machina at NYCC 2022 // 8-bit Stories // Campaign 1 Wrap-Up // “Without You Without Them” by boygenius // Campaign 2, Episode 141, "Fond Farewells." // Campaign 3: Behind the Set // Letters to Milena by Franz Kafka // Campaign 1, Episode 115, "The Chapter Closes." // Explanation of the final Vex’ahlia playlist by Laura Bailey // Liam's Quest: Full Circle // Backwards by Warsan Shire // Exandria Unlimited: Kymal, Part 2 // Explanation of Fearne’s second playlist by Ashley Johnson // Lighthousekeeping by Jeanette Winterson // San Diego Comic-Con 2023, Critical Role: Fireside Chat & Cast Q&A // Exandria Unlimited Cooldown: Divergence Episode 4 // Campaign 3, Episode 23, "To the Skies." // Explanation of the final Percy playlist by Taliesin Jaffe // "For Good" by Stephen Schwartz // Campaign 3, Episode 91, "True Heroism." // Exandria Unlimited: Calamity, Episode 4, "Fire and Ruin." // Campaign 3, Episode 121, "A New Age Begins."

[sanctus-ingenium]

split tongue

[shinynewmemories]

Broke: "Katniss was only with Peeta because of their shared trauma from the Games and the events that followed. After what they went through together, there was no one who truly understood her like Peeta. But if Prim and Peeta had never been reaped, Katniss would have ended up with Gale/stayed single."

Woke: "The Games and the events that followed brought Katniss and Peeta together, but there was something special between them since the day with the bread. Katniss had a subconscious interest in him since they were 11, and after the reaping she couldn't help but fall for him due to their close proximity. The Games weren't her reason for choosing Peeta, but they were a catalyst for their relationship."

Bespoke: "The Games did more to hinder Katniss and Peeta's relationship than to help it. In fact, without the Games to complicate things, Katniss would have fallen for Peeta fast and hard. The Games and the events that followed were responsible for countless barriers to their love including (but not limited to):

1. Instilling in Katniss a distrust of Peeta that did not come naturally to her

2. Forcing her to act in love, regardless of the authenticity of her feelings, in order to survive

3. Broadcasting every moment they shared, no matter how intimate/private, onto every screen in every house in the country

4. Driving them apart due to the pain and confusion that followed the inevitable end of her "star-crossed lovers" act

5. Making their relationship a political tool of manipulation and oppression

6. Leading Snow to hold Katniss personally responsible for defusing the civil unrest within the Districts by means of their love story

7. Forcing them under threat of death to act in love for the rest of their lives, thereby taking away their agency and ability to choose each other out of real love or desire

8. Robbing them of a future together, even if they wanted it, by returning Katniss to the Games and ensuring the death of at least one of them

9. Traumatizing them in ways they'll have to deal with for the remainder of their lives

10. So many other things

The Hunger Games is NOT the story of how Katniss fell in love with Peeta due to or even during the Games. It's the story of how Katniss fell in love with Peeta IN SPITE OF THEM."

[galgali]

it is absolutely true that every character in death note is in a completely different piece of media from every other character. light thinks he's in law and order. L is in columbo, as columbo. misa is in a sabrina carpenter song and rem is in a chappell roan song. to ryuk this is all the three stooges. soichiro is in taken and matsuda is in brooklyn 99 and aizawa is in disco elysium. this is mikami's silence of the lambs and you're living in it. mello will either make this whole situation into twilight or die trying, and near? well. near is in death note.

[demi-pixellated]

Shadow's No Good, Very Bad Day

[ozymandien]

chef with a silver earring

[toji-bunny-girl]

Big strong man Toji thinks he can’t do it after 2 months of fucking you. Every. Single. Day. You must be some undercover assassin trying to kill him by milking his cum and soul with your insatiable horniness and god-tier pussy.

Either way, he’s sure he’s going to die by your hands sooner or later. So, he’s decided to cut ties with you—saving the label ‘guilty of homicide’ off your record…just after this last fuck. It’s tragic, really. He’s finally found a pretty girl who can handle him, but he can’t handle her.

As sad as it sounds, he just had to do it.

The air is so hot that he could almost hear the sizzling of the molecules against his sweat-glazed skin from the back of his head. The sharp pain from how deep your nails sank into his flesh was the lone anchor that held him conscious. Everything was a blur and the only thing he could focus on was the aching tingle in his cockhead as his hips bucked from his nearing 5th orgasm.

Toji could somewhat feel your weight on and off his numb thighs, and your soft tongue came to lick the drool that leaked from the edge of his scared lips. God, you’re actually driving him crazy. “Baby, m’gonna die. Yer’ pussy milkin’ me to death.”

“Haa—mmn! T-This dick mine,” you whimpered out through your pants, slamming your ass down his flexed thighs and garnering two loud groans from the both of you. Fuck. That was hot. Your head lowered to suck and teeth at an unmarked spot on his neck, the way your tongue slowly slither up to his ears making his teeth sink into his lip to suppress another moan.

“Baby t-there’s nothing more—” it was clear you didn’t care to process his words when you sank deeper down his length, each thrust earning a loud sloppy squelch from your tightening pussy.

“Wanna feel good. W-want more, Toji!”

“Aah—shit!” He’s going to crash out if your tight little cunt stays sloppy and tight around him. The threat of another orgasm making his nerves go crazy and his cock goes painful from all the tingles. Toji doesn’t know what would happen to him if he were to cum in your warm cunny again—it’s going to drive him feral in the least.

“Cum w’me, Toji,” you were edging him nearer and nearer to the pit of engulfing pleasure, your sweet words and pretty voice ringing in his mind and god, he swore he could feel his good ol’ brain melting into slimy puddles. “F-Feel good with me, please—mmhp!”

“I’ll give you everything—haa. M’all yours, baby,” his tongue lolls out of his sloppy mouth and your pink muscles met in a messy wet dance. Everything is sticky and wet and hazy but it’s the closest thing to heaven Toji would ever reach. Hell is the place after death for him, and he’d come into terms that your addictive little nympho cunny is his lovely paradise on Earth <3

[esoterictboy]

bullying sexually is just too fun sorry! I wanna shove your face into my crotch and make you huff it ! I wanna laugh at you after I pull you away by the scruff on your neck and notice the wet spot in your underwear! I wanna pants you so you have to try and fail miserably to cover yourself up ! I wanna pinch your nipples through your shirt, I wanna slide your underwear to the side and take pictures of your hole all wet and desperate ! I wanna make you lie face down ass up and naked so we can all laugh at how bad you want my dick and how desperate you are for it !

@/tooesoteric2tboy - now

[toodrunktofindaurl]

"Death's child"

twitter | bluesky | insta | 🔞 patre*n

[jewishvitya]

A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.

So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.

Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.

When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.

One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"

He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."

And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.

I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.

So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.

Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.

But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?

All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.

I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.

This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.

In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.

One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.

Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.

Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."

In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.

On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.

In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.

[emmikay]

Hera: With war about to break out, we need to start thinking about strategy. In that case, I’ll defer to you- Are there any heroes you have an eye on?

Athena: Oh, I’m delighted you asked!

Athena: (slams two full four inch binders on the table)

Athena: So, this here is Diomedes, King of Argos. Now I know he’s seems a bit young, but he has more experience than most of the others put together! Here, have a look over his resume.

Hera: My goodness, taking Thebes, and at such a young age? That is noteworthy. A good choice, I think. Is there anyone else?

Athena: Yes! This is Odysseus. He is the King of Ithaca and he lies constantly.

Hera:

Athena: It’s hilarious.

Hera: Well, maybe he’s more impressive in person. I’ll just go down and take a peek-

Hera: Athena, I don’t wish to alarm you, but your mortal has yoked a donkey to an ox, and is sowing salt into the beach. Stark naked.

Athena: Oh, don’t worry about that. He’s only pretending to be mad. He doesn’t want to go to war, and is trying to get out of it.

Hera:

Athena: Obviously I’m not going to let him get away with it, but isn’t that clever of him?!

[robo-writing]

Cockwarming with Logan is one of those ideas that sound good on paper, but could never work in reality. Listen up, and I’ll tell you why. (18+)

The heat of you enveloping him is nirvana itself, your hands on his body sending him to cloud nine. They linger on his chest, pawing, caressing, blazing a trail from his collarbone to his face, nails burying themselves into the darkened locks as you stare at him with nothing short of pure adoration.

“Feel good?” You ask, and he’s so drunk off you that he can only bring himself to nod, breath hitching when your hips circle themselves in his lap. Your laughter is nothing short of melodic, pressing yourself into the broad length of his chest.

He feels everything like this—the heat of your nude body against his, the scent of your body wash, your shaky breaths—every sense on overdrive. It’s there you sit, unmoving, unwavering, every movement causing your pussy to clench around him, and in turn, makes his chest rumble appreciatively.

“Should listen to you more often,” Logan mumbles, biting his lip at the feeling of you nibbling at his neck. “Just full of bright ideas, ain’tcha?”

“Full of a lot of things,” you sigh, and the sound makes his cock twitch.

But, there’s something missing.

Your quiet whimpers, your doe eyes staring at him from above—the way your pussy clenches in response to every touch, pulsing around his cock—it’s good, but it’s not enough.

Tugging at him, an itch he can’t scratch, it gnaws away at his mind until he finds himself searching for more, and the realization hits him like a wave.

It’s patience he lacks, an epiphany that has his lips curling into a smirk. It’s a lesson soon learned when his fingers dig into your hips and lift, surprise evident on your face. His downfall, as with most things, is his lack of patience. When it comes to you, he could even go as far to call it greed.

“Logan?” You ask, not a word given in response. His palms run up your back, large digits squeezing at your flesh, and yet the feeling does little to settle the sudden flare of nerves that build in your core. The calm before the storm, the impending sense of doom, women’s intuition—or maybe it’s because you’ve become intimately familiar with the devious smile that spreads across Logan’s face.

“Logan? What are you—“

You’re soon cut short, interrupted by the feeling of him slamming you back onto his cock, your short gasp making ego soar to new heights.

“Sorry doll, change of plans,” he grunts, bouncing you on his lap without a care in the world. The sudden change of pace has you scrambling for purchase, hands clamoring around his neck as you struggle to keep up.

“Logan, wait—ohmygod—“ you whine, and the sound is like music to his ears. His attempt at soothing your worries is his hand sliding across your ass, the sharp sting of it making you jump, but lucky for you Logan’s there to pull you back onto his cock.

Up, down, up, down. A constant rhythm that finally satiates the beast within him, the dull thud of skin on skin enough to have him melting into his chair, a wave of content spreading through every vein of his body. In contrast, you feel your own becoming more tense by the second; toes curling, breath caught in your throat, an incomprehensible string of noises leaving your lips as Logan watches with bated breath.

He tuts at you, the sound nothing short of mocking. “No runnin’ away sweetheart, this was your idea.”

“Not like this,” you moan, hiding yourself in his neck. “Wanted to relax…”

Your voice trails off, unable to speak when Logan’s practically fucking every rational thought from your head. Slowly but surely, any idea of protest is drowned out by the heat that burns inside of you, a dull ember that builds into a blaze, unable to focus on anything that isn’t Logan or his cock grinding inside you.

You can hear his laughter bellowing deep within his chest, amused at your brainless state, right before he quickens his pace. “Trust me sweetheart, I’m real fuckin’ relaxed right now.”

[chloesimaginationthings]

"They call it the MANGLE" - FNAF 2 phone guy

[concerningwolves]

favourite things about first drafts:

square brackets with notes to self mid-line like [does this make sense with worldbuilding?]

ah yes, Main Character and their closest friends, Unnamed Character A and Unnamed Character B.

bullshitting your way through something that you probably definitely need to research later

also square brackets to link up scenes. [scene transition idk] my beloved

the total freedom of word vomits

"I'll fix that later"

the moment when the world and characters start to gain a life of their own

pieces falling into place as you write that you were uncertain about before you started

the accomplishment of Made A Thing

[orbbo]

That feel when you stare at a monitor so long your face is burned into it permanently