#terminally long post is terminally long

[brooklynislandgirl]

@honorhearted {{xx}}

By the time Beth reached her fifteenth winter, she'd been married a countless number of times. Beneath the rose-bower her father had planted for her mother when the Boston house was still only it's foundations and her parents were a little younger than she is now, solemn in her best dress and her caplet for Mass. Under the graceful and slender arms of the willow trees just on the outskirts of the Setauket farm, where she pretended the well mannered old hunting dog was her dear groomsman. A full five years younger than Andrew and his friends, she was sometimes left out of their games and their education, thus making it necessary for her to play on her own. These weddings were sometimes rushed and sometimes languished until she was called in by her governess, Hannah, to take tea and some light meal. Not one of those nuptials lasted past an afternoon, and none were so much her favourite as the ones where she closed her eyes tightly and imagined Ben taking her trembling hand. Perhaps that was the truth of the tears and inconsolable grief that fell over her as a bitter pall when he went away to school and the family in turn moved inward to their fine new house in Pennsylvania. She could not know then that her father grieved the loss of her mother in child-bed, that their home had become a crypt to her memory, and that the new house was some salve for his spirit. He had never not doted on her, but perhaps that was how she had been forged…wrong, given more latitude than any could imagine. She should have been an excellent prospect for a happy future but in her heart of hearts, she has more in common with a younger son than all the society maidens of her acquaint. Each year that passes she is those twelve months closer to spinsterhood. The stirrings of war were perhaps a blessing as much as it is a curse, delaying the inevitable. She will at it's end ~and of course it must come to a conclusion, either in much hoped for victory or the purgatory of defeat~ be given to someone of her father's choosing. But here? Here is her heart's yearning. With straying lock eloped from its queue, with a body like mountain stones, with a countenance of brooding night, he is set over his papers. He hardly stirs, seems more effigy than living man. Then towers over her when he gets to his feet before her trembling fingers fully affix the token and she does not know what else she should have expected. They certainly have had no sweetness between them in these last days. She is as doomed now as she was all those years ago. He says nothing when she speaks and she steels herself to take her leave once the offering is given only to find herself caught within his grasp. Watches his mouth work for a moment and cannot look away from him. She half expects him to push her away but instead Ben chooses to caress himself against her palm. His gaze swims in the light of his candles, reflecting their glimmering light. Hannah is not here to herd her back to the house, nor is there a holy father in his black robes to rescue her soul from its imperilment. She is not so sure she would heed either one well with the way he is gazing at her, and with how her heart leaps in her breast as if to throw itself at his feet. His voice surrounds her like night and shadow when he asks the ribbon's purpose. But before she can answer, he takes hold of her face and kisses her forehead, ever so chastely. So close is he that she wonders if he can hear her heart beginning to crack. If only he could know what it feels to have him so close and yet unable to do anything about it. She is his friend, yes, but not as she should be.

He torments her with another peppering of kisses, his lips soft and tender as she dreamed they might be. Kisses that half cage her breath in her throat so that it staggers forth drunkenly and comes to a crashing halt against him. His fingers abandon her wrists in favour of her waist, a touch that holds a heavy sort of intimacy and her knees become as water. She melts just as easily as the wax being consumed by its flame on his desk. His next question, the caress of his mouth against the shell of her ear, turns that flicker to conflagration and were she a house, she would be only ashes. Pity then that she is only human and her own hands move from his chest. One rises to his shoulders and take perch there while inching its way toward his hair,  while the other settles near his hip and fingers tighten. This purchase on him is all that keeps her upright, when all of her wants to simply sink against Ben. All of her turns to molten fire as his teeth graze against her skin. All the air in her lungs seems to dissipate in that moment as her heart sets a thunderous pace. As every last inch of her strives to be that much closer to him she rises upward, pressing her modest curves against him despite the fact that some parts of her are now painfully taut. She starts to nuzzle him in return before he catches her and draws her gaze upward ~she doesn't hear the little wordless sound that ekes out of her throat~ and he pours himself into her gaze. Hers is hazy with a certain sort of madness, half lidded in the dim light. Her throat rises and falls beneath that second caress as she manages a shuddering whisper. "Is ceol mo chroí thú, Benjamin." Thick dark lashes settle against her otherwise pale skin and her eyes close and her lips part. The time of her tongue slinks across them in an invitation to kiss her proper. She feels her belly tighten and it feels like a flock of birds startled from their brush take wing within her. Lost in the moment she is left standing there unsteady and bereft when Ben pulls away from her and she momentarily recoils. What has she said? What has she done that he would retreat from her? She takes a needed half step back to steady herself and above her gaze her brows knit marking her confusion when she opens her eyes and tilts her head. On his knees he looks anguished, not a thought of prayer or God anywhere to be found in his visage.

Something inside of her breaks. Neither anger nor despair, not quite hurt. She has no word for it but it puts mettle in her spine. Now empty hands smooth her skirts and she takes a sobering breath, blinking back the moisture suddenly gathered there. For a split second her lips purse closed and the corners of them tremble as she tries desperately to gather wisps of thought into something more substantial. When she does? She takes the few steps that kill the space between them. It feels strange to be able to gaze down into his face though she isn't much taller than he is this way. "I know," she begins slowly though there is kindness laced through her words. "Caleb let slip, why do you think I came? Do you honestly believe I could watch you ride into hell's embrace and not...not wish to have spent these last moments? I don't know where you will go. What you will encounter with your dragoons. But I do know that when you go, you will take all of me with you. Saints preserve, because...because I love you, Ben Tallmadge. That is all the truth that need live in my heart." She cradles his face between her small, trembling hands and this time she tilts his face upward. Every word she spoke is etched in the lines of her face, in the way her eyes darken before she lowers her face to his and presses her lips against his own.

[caiabresebun]

smt iii ost goes so hard

[suchscary]

Too many artists who do commissions, in my experience, don't take their job seriously enough.

It's a meme how some artists take months to complete a comm and "haha im so grateful for having patient commissioners" but that's just poor work ethics on the artist's part.

When you offer commissions, you don't just offer art, you also have to communicate with your client properly, give them proper updates, ask them for feedback during process, discuss things that your ToS doesn't cover if needed, and so on.

Just for example, if you're taking longer than expected, let them know why (just vague "due to personal problems" is enough) and if needed, offer a refund or another alternative instead of making your commissioner reach out to you for updates themselves and possibly stressing them out.

Otherwise, you're treating your commissioner like a nuisance that you're forced to work with, not a client who offers you money in return for proper service.

[boombox-fuckboy]

Hey!!! You commented on my post about limetown haha which is why I’m here. You offered to give podcast recs! What are your favorites?? I’m looking for some new ones

I completely forgot I had this ask, excuse the delay. Here's a selection of 30 podcasts I enjoyed from a broad range of genres: hopefully at least one appeals.

Let me know if you're after something more specific.

Arden: (Investigative, Comedy) On the 25th of December, 2007, heiress and young actress Julie Capsom crashed her car into a tree and fled into a nearby forest clearing, leaving a trail that seemingly vanished into thin air, and a dismembered torso in the trunk. A decade later, Bea, the first reporter on the scene, and Brenda, a detective on the case, are hosting a true crime podcast about it, and neither is remotely impressed with what the other has to say. Arden is also a retelling of various Shakespeare plays.

Desperado: (Supernatural, Adventure, Horror Elements) In a modern world of gods and magic, three young people, all under the patronage of death dieties, embark on the same adventure for different reasons: for safety, for revenge, and to kill The Old Man in the Sky. Fantastic banter and killer action sequences.

The Far Meridian: (Magical Realism) An agoraphobic young woman wakes one day to discover her lighthouse home has travelled to somewhere entirely unfamilar. As this continues to happen day after day, she uses the opportunity to search for her missing brother. A really unique and charming piece of fiction.

Gastronaut: (Sci-Fi) Interstellar travel audio blog of a former food critic as he travels to an active warzone to get firsthand experience with unfamilar cuisine. ft. Disgruntled martian nobility, sinister businessmen, explosive mushrooms, forbidden snacks, rogue revolutionary artists, and the consequences of your actions.

Girl in Space: (Sci-Fi) The Girl In Space lives alone on a space station, doing science, making cheese, rewatching Jurassic Park, and tending to the plants, animals, and artificial sun entrusted to her. It's a little lonely, but not a bad life. Would be a shame if someone came along to ruin it.

The Goblet Wire: (Microfiction, Weird Fiction) A surreal microfiction with horror elements, taking the form of phone calls to an audio-based game in which the voice of the mysterious Dictator leads each player through fantastic and horrific world and story.

Hello From The Hallowoods: (Horror, Supernatural) A dramatic entity beyond your comprehension visits your nightmares to tell stories of the people (in varying degrees of human and alive) that inhabit the strange, deadly, and beautiful Hallowoods, as they find meaning and sometimes eachother.

Hi Nay: (Supernatural Horror) A year after moving to Toronto, sound designer Mari finds herself drawn into helping people around the city with various horrific supernatural encounters due to her babaylan (shaman) family background. It quickly becomes apparent that there's something much more sinister and complicated happening in the background.

Inco: (Microfiction, Sci-Fi) A perpetually exausted interstellar information trader and her peppy AI find a mysterious (read: bratty) boy floating in space and are inadventently pulled into a world political intrigue.

Inn Between: (Fantasy) Ever curious about what the D&D characters get up to at the tavern between sessions? A generally lighter-hearted (with some exceptions) with richly-written and always-growing characters. A really interesting format, too: a lot of the adventure appears in the "next time" and "last time" segments which makes it all flow really nicely. Not a tabletop podcast.

Janus Descending: (Sci-Fi, Horror, Tragedy) A xenoarcheologist and a xenopaleontologist are sent to a study a dead city on a distant world. Nobody likes what they find there. A unique format, with one set of logs presented first to last, and the other last to first. I'd recommend listening to the supercut for this one.

The Kingmaker Histories: (Steampunk, Weird Fiction, Adventure, Fantasy Elements) In the Valorian Socialist Republic 1911, on her 25th birthday, tailor's apprentice Colette experienced the worst headache of her life. As a result, she fleed from town with a human artificer and a fae chef - both now smugglers - pursued by an utterly furious flesh-crafter. I'm not sure I'm selling how good this podcast is but it's very good.

Life With Althaar: (Sci-Fi, Comedy) A human repairman moves to a space station on the edge of human territory that is perpetually on the edge of self-destruction, and ends up with a less-than-ideal last-minute roomate. Althaar is polite, friendly, deeply interested in human culture, and eager to be friends. Unfortunately he belongs to a species that sends humans into a visceral panic at a glance.

Lost Terminal: (Sci-Fi, Hopepunk) Seth is a very lonely AI living on a satellite. His crew were left stranded aboard with no hope of return, and it's been longer than he can count since then. The Earth below him has changed dramatically, and with only a few other AI down there to talk to, he's very lonely. But! He has a plan to make some new friends.

Love and Luck: (Romance, Slice-of-Life and Urban Fantasy Elements) Voice messages cataloguing two young men falling in love and opening a queer dry bar together.

Midnight Radio: (Light Supernatural, Romance) Sybil McIntyre, host of the ever-popular 1950's nightly radio hour, begins exchanging letters with an old fan who has reluctantly returned to visit Sybil's beloved town.

Midst: (Weird Fiction, Western, Sci-Fi and Fantasy Elements) The old-western planetoid islet of Midst floats, rotating steadily, in a sea of reality-warping darkness. Down in the town of Stationary Hill, things are in movement, and vistors from the light above are about to bring unanticipated change. ft a monocycle-riding monster-hunter, radio-famous airship paladins, deadly mica, the universe's peppiest cultist, good dogs, and a really strange businessman.

The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity, and Mortality: (Weird Fiction, Supernatural, Urban Fantasy and Horror Elements) A friendly AI tour guide leads you on a tour of the Mistholme Museum, explaining the strange and often alternatural story behind each item.

Monstrous Agonies: (Supernatural, Relationship Advice) An interpersonal advice show for supernatural entities and other people living liminally in the modern world.

Night Shift: (Urban Fantasy, Investigative) Set in a modern world with the addition of magic, which manifests in small inherited skills/traits, can warp people in horrific ways, or can be manipulated with the right science (and intense work) to induce superpowers. Sebastian Fenn is a barista at Night Shift Coffee, but since things are slow he's decided to start a podcast to talk about various mysteries, crimes and conspiracies around the city, and of course finds himself deeper in them than he'd intended.

The Pasithea Powder: (Sci-Fi, Thriller Elements? I think?) The last major interplanetary war was full of atrocities, but none more infamous then the creation of Pasithea Powder, a memory altering drug which was used to horrible effect and landed it's entire team of creators in prison. So when decorated war hero Captain Sophie Green sees one of them wandering free, worlds away from his prison, she gets in touch with a very old, estranged friend: one Dr. Jane Gonzalez, who's behind bars for the very same reason.

SCP: Find Us Alive: (Weird Fiction, Supernatural, Horror and Slice-of-Life elements) You don't need to know anything about SCP to enjoy this. A research team gets trapped in an underground research facility when the complex collapses and the building is dragged into a pocket dimension. The tear it was designed to study begins creating tiny copies of itself, generating strange entities the team needs to deal with. And as if that wasn't enough, the entire situation physically resets itself every 30 days. And yet, this is genuinely also an office comedy.

Second Star to the Left: (Sci-Fi) Audio logs of a scout sent to explore and establish early infastructure new world, and the communications with the minder in charge of keeping her alive.

Seen and Not Heard: (Slice-of-Life, Drama) Seen and Not Heard follows Bet, who's still adjusting to life a year after a bout of severe illness, and the resulting hearing loss it caused. It's about the ways we make connection, and food, and art, and different kinds of grief.

The Silt Verses: (Horror) In a modern world where gods are abundant, frequently both commercialised and restricted, two devotees of an outlawed river god go on a pilgrimage.

SINKHOLE: (Sci-Fi, Weird Fiction) Forum posts from a data restoration community in a near future where the human brain is its own computer and one city hosts a massive void.

Starfall: (Fantasy) Seeking to escape her mysterious past and find some purpose, a young swordswoman joins a travelling actor's troupe. This new life is unfamilar and sometimes stressful, but she's taken under the wing of stagehand Fel, who's determined to help her feel welcome as she experiences the figurative and literal magic of the theatre for the first time.

The Tower: (Weird Fiction) A low-key, meditative podcasy about a young woman who decides to climb a seemingly endless tower. Gorgeous sound design.

The Vesta Clinic: (Sci-Fi) New GP Dr. Fae Underwood, with the expert transcription skills of resident AI Sec, writes up patient reports on human and alien patients of The Vesta Clinic, a medical clinic on the edge of human space. Really comfy and creative.

Victoriocity: (Steampunk, Mystery) Set in the steam-powered Victorian city of Even Greater London, an aspiring journalist and a tired detective find themselves working together to solve a strange murder. I say Victorian but as queen Victoria is now an extensive grandiocity of cyborg components following seven only-kind-of-successful assassinations, you may need to adjust expectations a little.

[lord-squiggletits]

In Pharma apologist posts where people display/argue the canon proof of Pharma being a good person before Delphi, something I don't see come up that after and idk why because it's a blazing beacon of Pharma's ordinarily upstanding skills and personality:

Pharma was literally Ratchet's next choice for CMO when he was looking to retire and find a replacement.

Like.

Forget the fact that they were friends and Ratchet wouldn't be friends with someone who was a piece of shit.

You don't pick someone to be the CMO, top leader of the entire medical division of the Autobot army, if the only thing going for them is that they're a good surgeon. Being a good leader (especially at that high of an organizational level) requires all kinds of other skills like intelligence, good judgment, ethical and moral standards, etc.

And based on Ratchet's characterization, we really don't have any reason to assume that Ratchet is biased, bad at judging character, etc. If Ratchet, based on a lifetime of being friends/coworkers with Pharma, thought that he was the best candidate for the next CMO, there was literally a reason for it and that reason is that Pharma was not only a good doctor, but a good person and a good leader before Delphi happened and he got driven insane by a literal professional torturer and sadist.

[thorinsbeard]

The Terminator (1984)

[spectroscopes]

John Connor gave me a picture of you once. I didn’t know why at the time. It was very old. Torn, faded. You were young, like you are now. You seemed just a little sad. I used to always wonder what you were thinking at that moment.

[arceespinkgun]

alright I know you haven't talked about this in a while but you're pretty correct about the way jazzprowl is written usually being weird. One or both of them is always portrayed in a weird offensive way (it's either racist towards jazz, portrays prowl as an ableist stereotype, BOTH, and MORE)

I agree with this. It took me a while to think of what I could add to this and I think I'd also say: it's important for everyone to know that when I see people injecting bonus ableism into fics with these characters in them, Jazz is also normally portrayed as an ableist stereotype (racist as well as ableist)! Whenever Jazz is written as being super disruptive, lazy, and chaotic, or when he's written as super violent and scary and people use terms like "schizo" (I'm sorry but I've seen it) to describe him, these all fall into the overlap between racism and ableism. It's the same bigotry that in the real world results in Black men and boys to be deemed disruptive and violent over their peers. And I probably don't need to say it at this point, but the character Jazz has never been portrayed like this in any media, not even close. And there has also never been canon media where Jazz disrupts an ultra-rigid Prowl into changing anything about himself (and there never should be because that sucks). Hey, is now a good time to point out that in the G1 comics, as far as I can tell Prowl is just one of the many, many Autobots who are massive Blaster fans and they have nothing but positive interactions, and Blaster in those comics actually is a super disruptive, loud, angry, sometimes violent character? I mean, they have to be friends because they both hate Grimlock....

I also think something I haven't discussed as often but is equally important is that we should all be looking at canon with a critical eye as well. If you look at the way some IDW writers like James Roberts, Nick Roche, and John Barber wrote the characters, they utilized a lot of extremely problematic tropes as well. For example, I personally balk every time I see someone saying that Barber did Jazz justice, when what he did to him was make his entire story center on cops and police brutality and barely let him grow or find any community. He also decided that Jazz's backstory would be that he was a beat cop on Cybertron... I think it's bizarre for anyone to look at how Jazz has been portrayed over time and think it makes total sense for that of all things to be his backstory. I'll also just never forgive Barber for writing that issue where he had Prowl point a gun at Jazz's head to get his attention, and had Jazz making fatphobic jokes about Prowl (weird in context for SO many reasons), and also tried to resolve the issue with some kind of friendship moment despite all of that.

Roche, JRo, and Barber also knowingly took every trait Prowl had as a character before their stories—ones easy to perceive as signs of disability—and twisted them into signs of cartoonish evil (I know Barber seems to think he did not write him as a flat evil character, but he's kidding himself). Understandable meltdowns about stressful situations and injustice get turned into a running gag and scary villainy, a lack of social awareness and literal thinking get turned into the most flatly evil dialogue I've ever seen ("You can apologize later," anyone?), a drive to make everything just and fair and better for everyone gets turned into arrogance (Barber, the fact that you wrote this character saying something like, "What's morality got to do with any of this?" means you failed). I especially hate these decisions because these writers also showed a ton of favoritism towards this character. You could feel how much they LOVED making him as revolting as possible while also making sure that instead of facing reasonable consequences he'd always go through the most disturbing, traumatic, worst shit ever so there wasn't even the catharsis of fair consequences... while also giving him tons of prominence.

I say all of this because both canon and fandom works should be examined critically and that IMO it's not only a good idea to not make things worse in fanworks, but also probably a good idea to go along with the better parts of canon and not the super problematic parts.

[everyones-least-favorite-bard]

consequences.

(go read banshee in a well by @liverobinreaction)

[marcusbrutus]

I feel like I have a tumblr anon in my brain…. Like a tiny cop. But it’s an chronically online anonymous weirdo. And every thought I have, I get “anons” telling me how it’s problematic and I should kill my self LOL The other morning I saw an RFK sign and I thought doesn’t he have brain worms, someone running for president shouldn't have brain worms. maybe apply for literally any other job. and the anon was like ummm ableist much? Like WHAT. I turned off anon on tumblr a while ago, so even if I post something “risky”, someone will have to tell me what they think to my face. They can’t hide. Even posts I think are innocuous can be wildly misinterpreted, and someone will probably call me problematic. But even if no one says anything, I still hear it. In my brain. Sometimes I delete things because the thought is so strong. I’m probably not gonna make it to any heaven or enlightenment because I can’t forgive yourfaveisproblematic. In my mind, Tumblr was great before then, or at least it felt that way, and that blog sewed the seeds for cancel culture in the future. That stuff sticks to my brain, even if I don’t want it too. When you put sins like "said disabled people shouldn't be alive" on the same level as "has a tattoo in a language they don't natively speak," it is very confusing to a people-pleasing undiagnosed autistic 14 year old. I felt/feel like I can’t like anyone or anything because it’s ~problematic~ I worry it will never go away, because it affected me in my developing years, 14-19 I want to get better, but it’s hard. I wish I could run from the internet, but I can’t. It’s a part of life now. It’s how we stay connected. But it’s also like…. Idk. The internet used to be my safe space, right? Deviantart. Early tumblr. Seeing weird people like me made me feel less alone. I was a weeb surrounded by “preps” for lack of a better word, not that I didn’t have friends but NONE of them were into what I was into, you know? And no one became as obsessive about things like books and anime like I did, except online. But now it’s like, idk, corruption of the garden of Eden. But instead of me eating the fruit, the garden/internet ate the fruit. The world is too different now… I can’t keep up. And it’s not just because I’m getting older. Things happen faster now. Trends will last half a year when in the past they would have lasted a decade. I hate knowing everything all of the time. I hate that my garden is now a cesspool.

I’m just angry that people on tumblr and lefty spaces online are so blind to their own propaganda, and calling it out is “hate.” Like idk, I guess I expected better from people who are supposed to be ~intellectuals~. Well, if YouTube video essays have taught me anything, style over substance goes a LONG way. And they’re like “oh we’re so compassionate and we want a better future” but they tell everyone to kill themselves and laugh when red states get devastated by natural disasters it's not just that but it's like…. if you're not constantly aware of everything, you're ~part ofthe problem~ #wakeupamerica. silence is violence, blah blah blah. it's just hard because i grew up with a strict dad so learned to be a people pleaser. i'm extremely sensitive to guilt and shame. and all most of the internet has done since 2014 is shame everyone for everything. you're either with Us (good, pure, morally righteous) or you're with Them (problematic, evil). you don't want to be gasp problematic, do you? you don't want to have a callout post made about you and lose all your friends, right? well, keep you nose clean and reblog all the right posts so we know which side you're on an maybe, maybe we'll leave you alone. i have the stress of someone in debt to a mob boss. nah it's more like… i have the stress of everyone in the scarlet letter and im hoping everyone will keep their eyes on the Villain of the Week and leave me alone there's a decent video called "how to radicalize a normie." i say decent because it treats radicalization like a right-wing only issue and the "answer" to right wing radicalization is, of course left wing radicalization. "Even though they're on the bad, evil side, there's still hope because we can get them to our good, morally righteous side!" That kinda bs, and I say bs not in a left vs right way. According to my dad I'm a full blown communist! I'm saying it in the sense that the answer to radicalization isn't "just radicalize them to the other side." That's not at all helpful. You might as well tell an alcoholic who likes jameson to just switch to jack daniels. It's all poison, it's all harmful. ANYWAY, he talks about how most people don't set out to be radicalized, the politics comes to them. That happened to me - but on the left. And I'm sure if I left a comment on his video saying as much, he'd say it didn't happen or say it was a good thing. On tumblr, I came for anime. And for the first year, I got anime. But then I got really intense political stuff. "silence is violence." "i see you not reblogging this." "if you're not angry, you're not paying attention." I was 14-15, sheltered as fuck, I don't know anything about the world but now tumblr is convincing me that I know more about political issues than anyone. And it changed me. And it fucked me up. and I want to get unfucked. But I don't know how. I feel like an internet alcoholic. Like, even if I do stop using it, it will still be there, haunting me, forever, you know? because all my friends use it, not just you guys but irl friends. and the internet is effecting the real world. I miss the days when there was the internet, then there was reality. but now the internet is the reality. That's why I also fell so hard for the [REDACTED] stuff. Tumblr made me think everyone was [REDACTED] because like 99% of tumblr is [REDACTED], and I was worried about it because god help you if you question anything or show the slightest bit of concern. God help you if you're not full steam ahead on everything. I want to escape the matrix. I hate the hypocrisy…. And I hate even more that I’m also a hypocrite. I fall for group think and propaganda but act like I’m above it all. I hate social media but use it every day. YouTube too. I guess that’s why I get so mad when I see them act like that. It reminds me of me. People think the consequences of social media on a teenage girl are like "omg I was feeling good about myself….. but then I saw a model on Instagram… alas. I will never be her. I weep."

But it's more like: Oh my gosh, I just saw a post asking for mutual aid (aka MONEY, BABY) and I scrolled past. What if they died because they couldn’t afford food because I didn’t reblog their post? But what if I DID reblog their post, but it was a scam, and I led my followers to give money to someone who didn’t need it instead of someone who did?

I was hoping to share more examples, but I'm worried someone will misinterpret, and even though anon is off, the anon in my brain is on. always. on. i keep going back to the internet because i keep expecting it to get good again… like how it was. for some reason, i can't accept that it will no longer be my safe space. i wish i had a massive angel to keep me out, or something. like the actual garden of eden. I have to accept that it will never get better. I have not only an addiction to the internet, but to the obsessive thoughts it brings. By wishing it will get better, and continuing to use it, I am chasing a dragon. That is to say, I'm hoping for the same feelings I got from initially using the internet. No one ever catches the dragon. anyway, if you read all that... thank you so much! i'm taking a break from the internet, until mid november at least. maybe by then, it will be better. or not. we'll see.

[y-rhywbeth2]

I can't help but feel there's a chunk of lore missing from stuff about the Bhaalists. Most of the other evil gods you can generally work out why these gods are revered; the Gods of Fury are forces of nature (the ocean is terrifying but many are enamoured with it, storms will kill you and yet storm chasing is a thing, etc), Bane represents an idea of order and strength rooted in fear that fuels real world dictatorships, etc etc

Lay worship of Bhaal makes sense - either you're praying to be spared from death or if you're going to be deliberately killing somebody (revenge, self-defence, assassination, etc) you'll pray for success/give a fucked up form of grace.

And it's not necessarily so strange that they happily call themselves evil - Realms morality is not supposed to operate like the real world, evil is a recognised cosmological force and it's accepted as being holy, whether the average person likes it or not these gods are viewed as necessary parts of the universe; they won't blaspheme against it.

But Deathbringers aren't just in this for serial killing: "every murder committed strengthened holy Bhaal", their kills are "a pastime", but they are also "a duty". Death is holy, murder is holy, Bhaal being stronger is a desirable thing, and you love and revere your Lord of Murder for more than the power and wealth his domain brings you: there is a purpose here but what the fuck is it? You want Death Itself to be a revered and powerful presence in people's lives that they should be beholden to, but why? What's the reasoning?

The plot we're given makes little sense (conquering the world for Bhaal and creating a society in his image, sure. But Bhaal is notably very, very resistant to dying - killing the world will kill him, he's not going to do that), I do like this fucked up "the material world is a prison, everything should perish and be freed of it" philosophy for them (although it's also a touch too Sharran), but the actual apocalypse plan doesn't work out. I can also see how we ended up with it because how the hell do you fill these blanks if your "justification" isn't euthanising the world?

Bhaalists usually target criminals, so there could be a vigilante element to the faith, but Bhaal doesn't actually care who gets murdered and there's nothing about that in the doctrine - and that's Hoar's deal as god of vengeance anyway (although he and Bhaal are allies).

Bhaalist doctrine appeals to the natural world - all creatures destroy life on a daily basis, it's a necessary part of the turning of the world (although we're getting a little too close to Malar, god of predation here). There could be something about some kind of duty to a balancing act between the kingdoms of the dead (Myrkul) and the living (Bane) to keep either from becoming too powerful, although that's never come up. (That one actually has in-world scriptures with the Dead Three receiving their portfolios and announcing their plans, so for lack of a sensible answer I think I'll lean on that one for my personal Realms.)

Hmmmm.

(This is what happens when you split your death gods up: we could've just had a god of death and a god of the dead in one being and we wouldn't have this issue, Jergal.)

[prince-honeypaw]

WARNING: This post contains mentions of terminal illness and parental death! Proceed with caution.

♡ There are no secrets kept between Tamaki and Mirio. They've grown up together since they were just developing their quirks and have been attached at the hip for just as long. Where Tamaki went, Mirio was never far behind! They're in perfect tandem.

♡ Up until their first year at UA that is.

♡ Going to a prestigious hero school was already very stressful for Tamaki, but that wasn't all that bore down on his frazzled mind. Not long before he was accepted into UA, his grandmother had passed away. She was his only living family member after his mother passed from a terminal illness when he was rather young, which meant that he was hopping from foster home to foster home his entire first year. It was terrifying for him!

♡ He was so afraid of being alone again.

♡ Mirio was at a loss on how to help his closest friend. He knew that Tamaki was struggling with moving every month or so, but nothing he tried seemed to alleviate that stress. From putting time aside to help him try to regress or taking him out to do something fun, it only ever ended in Tamaki going home in tears.

♡ It wasn’t until he started his work study with Fatgum that someone finally found the solution to—at least one of—Tamaki’s anxieties. He was adopted by the BMI Hero and finally had that stable living situation that he desperately needed in order to thrive! And, with that settled, Tamaki’s little slowly started to come back out one step at a time. He was hesitant to let Taishiro know about his regression, but Taishiro is one of the most understanding and open minded heroes out there. Different strokes for different folks!

♡ And, while happy that Tamaki was starting to feel better enough to regress again, Mirio couldn’t help but feel this little twinge of disappointment. Disappointment in himself for not being able to help his best friend when he needed it most. He tried his best to not let it get to him, but oh did his smile not quite reach his eyes for a time afterwards. He was afraid of not being needed anymore.

♡ Soon after, things went back to how they used to be! For the most part. New routines filled the cracks and became the new norm... Up until another wrench was thrown in the cogs a year and a half later.

♡ UA's dorm system was implemented for the safety of the students, but Tamaki feels like it was an attack on him personally. He had gone through so much to settle in with Taishiro! He paced and fretted over the new stressor for days upon days before it was time to move in. Taishiro promised that everything would be peachy keen, and that he'd always have his home in Esuha when all was said and done! It wasn't like he was being exiled.

♡ His words went in one ear and right out the other the moment he had to pack away his regression gear, squawking and fretting that someone would find out! He couldn't- He shouldn't- He WOULDN'T! And, regretfully, he didn't. Taishiro said that if he changed his mind, he'd have it all packed and ready to go when he saw him next, but Tamaki was stubborn in his decision.

♡ Moving into the dorms was suspiciously simple to Tamaki. He didn't drop anything, didn't trip up the stairs, didn't spill water on the new carpet in his dorm- And having dinner with the rest of his class wasn't a disaster either. It was actually... Very fun! Nejire was in the dorm across from his own and Mirio was just a floor away, so he didn't feel as alone as he thought he would be.

♡ It was nice. Something he would have to tell Taishiro about later.

♡ However, he hadn't noticed just how much later it had gotten! The sky had grown darker and most of the class had already disappeared into their dorms, leaving a chilling quiet to bear down on his mind. He'd been so content with the company of so many familiar faces that it never occured to him that his schedule had been thrown off entirely.

♡ First was brushing his teeth. Then was taking his medication with a bottle- A bottle he didn't have. That was fine, it was fine! There was no need to freak out, okay... He could just skip that part and take his medicine with a glass of water. Then he could get dressed and get Lilliput r- Lilliput was still at home. Okay... Okay, that would be harder to do without, but he didn't need to freak out! He... Papa could fix it-

♡ Like the shatter of glass, Tamaki's already slipping headspace crashed to the floor with that realization. Papa wasn't there. He was all alone now, all alone without the comforts he'd grown to rely on when the world felt so much bigger and he felt so... so small. Tears fell hot and thick, hiccups burning his throat. He was alone, he was alone, he was alone, he—

"Tamaki?"

♡ His breath caught and he snapped to attention. Mirio, suddenly understanding the situation with only a look, wore an expression that was as warm as sunlight, reaching out and taking Tamaki's hands.

"Hi there, sunshine! What's going on up here?" He asked with a gentle tap of his fingertip to the baby's forehead. Tamaki blinked through the tears and immediately jammed himself into Mirio's comforting presence and fit against him like a puzzle piece, hiccuping when he managed to speak. His words were jammed together between panic and his headspace, but Mirio nodded along as though it was just another conversation.

♡ Because, to him, it was! He knew baby Tamaki just as well as he knew big Tamaki, through timid mumbles and teary babbling, Mirio understood him. Rough thumb pads gingerly wiped the still falling tears off his ruddy cheeks, and Mirio spoke in a soft voice he knew was just for him.

"Okay, I gotcha, I gotcha! I still have some of your stuff on hand, remember?"

At the slow nodding, Mirio smiled, "That's right, so we can text your papa that you need your stuff and go get it after class tomorrow, 'kay? It's no big deal."

♡ Tamaki, still sniffling, echoed the words, "No big deal...", before letting Mirio guide him through his nighttime routine with what they had. A sippy full of water and a puppy plush suited him just fine, but following Mirio to his room was just inevitable. He felt so much less lonesome with him there and Mirio couldn't find it in himself to take Tamaki up to his own room.

♡ So, they settled in for the night in Mirio's dorm. Tamaki picked out a story on his tablet while Mirio washed the spare pacifier he kept around for Tamaki when he would stay over. With the pacifier clean and the sippy refilled with fresh water, Mirio returned to tuck in under the covers and pop the soother in Tamaki's mouth. They were in for a night of reading fairy tales and just being together.

♡ Tamaki barely lasted more than five minutes before he dozed off, his head resting against Mirio's chest. The thrum of his heartheat against his ear was like a lullaby soothed him into letting out a murmured, "N'ni, Mewi..."

♡ While holding Tamaki in his strong, scarred arms and stroking calloused fingers through indigo blue locks, feeling Tamaki's breathing slow into a gentle purr of sleep... Mirio wonders what he ever had to worry about in the first place.

[mswyrr]

"The Terminator" (1984)

Now that it's 2024, this film is 40 years old (!!!). I thought I'd finally sit down and give it a proper viewing (instead of the bits and pieces I've caught of it over the years) and it holds up very well.

Assorted thoughts:

-It's way more of a Horror movie than I'd expected. I knew Sarah Connor as a kid in her T2 Badass form (and from "Sarah Connor Chronicles"). It's neat to see her begin her journey as a Final Girl

-The deliberate pacing was also unexpected - but rewarding. Cameron does a great job building tension and weaving the deepening understanding of what's going on into that. Starting off a police detective plot only to have the detectives die like punks within minutes of coming up against the Terminator? Great subversion of genre tropes that were popular at the time and very effective in raising the stakes.

-THE ROMANCE. oh. delightful. it unfolds in such a way that you see an entirely new side of Reese - first, learning his first name is Kyle and then his deeper truth, who he is as a person that feels rather than a soldier who exists to kill machines.

-huge kudos to the actor playing kyle as he exposes his vulnerability - "i love you. i always have." and you can see the shifts between the hardened soldier he's had to be and what he's kept of his softness and how much she means to that side of him. the chemistry works v well.

-him being a virgin sort of -- consecrated by fate to love her? carrying her photograph with him. (the photograph where he noticed and felt connected to her 'sadness' - not realizing that, in the moment it will be taken, she is sad over his loss). choosing to go back. makes her side of the 'fated to have a kid together' thing less uneven?? kyle is fate's bitch even more than she is. i thought i'd be bothered by how she's destined to be the mom of an important man. but the way kyle is handled makes it work for me. he carries the tragedy deep in his heart and dies gladly for her and their child, not even knowing the truth about john. gorgeous!

i can see why people point to the sex scene here as an example of one that is beautifully in character and specific and INCREDIBLY PLOT RELEVANT lol like, it's absurd that people say sex shouldn't be in movies because it's "not relevant to the plot" but this is the single most plot relevant sex scene ever loll

i really liked:

-repeated shots of their hands gripping tightly -the way kyle is just drinking her in, in awe of her and this moment -linda hamilton's earthy/sincere performance of female desire and sarah working toward orgasm -the final time their hands grip each other tightly - and then the slow release of their fingers and the way the editor chose to have their hands letting go be a fade to black…. poignant, given what's going to happen 😭

"in the few hours that we had together, we loved a lifetime's worth" - love that quote and everything coming together in the end, as you see how the photograph was taken. lovely tragic romance!

[ruby-static]

This little dialogue is everything to me-

[crippled-peeper]

it it okay to ask why your type of quadriplegia is terminal as opposed to other types where people can live a long time with adequate support?

It’s not the paralysis alone that makes my life shorter, that’s just a part of it and a contributing factor. Many quadriplegics do actually eventually die from complications of their conditions - the biggest causes of mortality being infection, pneumonia, and suicide in that order

My particular condition doesn’t have a name - or rather it’s a combination of MANY differently named conditions.

I have rods and pedicle screws fused to 10 of my vertebrae (19 screws - 2 rods) which have been in my body for 10 years now. This has caused 2 other complications in my spine -

1: adjacent disc degeneration

2: flatback syndrome

I have 5 herniated discs (yeah it gets worse) above and below my spinal fusion because of these two complications. 2 of these herniations, one above the fusion & one below, are moderate-severe and are compressing my spinal cord right now as I type this

I have an additional disc located C5-C6 that has been removed and replaced with an implant called the MOBI-C, which is made of a titanium alloy (like the rods & screws) but also a small piece of silicone in the center that unfortunately has a tendency to break and my surgeon believes mine is broken now. This arthroplasty is sitting below one of my worst (but surgically unaltered, for now) disc herniations.

“But Morg,” you might be wondering, “if the 10-level spinal fusion (which is huge!) caused so many complications and is causing your spine to degenerate and fail, why don’t they take it out or shorten it?”

the short version? they simply can’t. spinal fusions are designed to be life long. they can’t take out the implants without replacing them with something, and even that may be impossible because of the lack of remaining bone structure (my spine was severely deformed, and they removed a lot of the vertebral body)

the whole reason I’ve become a novelty to the neurosurgery department at my hospital is because they (with their experience and imagination) are looking into my future and seeing not good things for me. it has even been suggested that they consult with my other doctor(s) and refer me to the Mayo Clinic to see if there’s anyone there with experience working on people like me - or if there’s even anything at all they can do for me at this point.

all this being said…. It’s hard to picture myself dying of anything else at this point. you can generously estimate that patients like myself have a 30-year lifespan, and I will be singing high praise of the universe if I live that long, but I’m not optimistic about say, outliving my twin who has had no surgery before, or even my older sibling.

I try to be optimistic, right, but I am a man of science so I must also be realistic which means listening to my doctor’s genuine concerns about my quality of life and complicated pathologies.

[scatteredcloud]

Do you think he has a curl care routine ? (I think he should)

Draw Kabru with curly hair cowards!!!!