#the more potential you have to make money.

[fuck-you-too-world]

I have a thought,

Tim is the embodiment of Gen Z and the reason why DC disrespect him a lot is because they saw the potential and how chaotic he could be because he's just so... How do say this, he had the most normal past (as normal as any Gotham kids could get and being a nepo baby) compare to others who had tragic back story.

Tim tragic back story didn't start until he take the Robin mantel, so I think DC is scared of Tim's potential especially with his mentality that is so flexible. Like, this boy is labeled as the coffee addict-sleep deprived-tech guy-that has too much money-too much work-and could drop dead anytime, just like gen Z (except the money part).

Then the chart just made me think of it even more! Tim is literally us as gen Z but he has money, training and no adult supervision! The intelligence is debatable cuz I think he usually has the brain cells but most of the time lost it, he can be as harmless as he is apocalyptic danger level all just because he felt like it. He's mostly harmless cuz he lacks motivation.

Like imagine! (He has so many war crimes I wanted to add more so he can have a special folder with more folders inside dedicated for one war crime saperated based on timeline, planet and dimension)

Tim : Feeling bored, might piss off Luther later cuz his life is too peaceful rn

*proceeds to take over the economic world and become a shadow emperor and open up charities just because*

Also Tim

Tim : Feeling a bit feral and kinda want to have a historical vibe today

*save planets and became emperor of several planets and he rules it really well to the point he has religion that worship him*

Then he's also

Tim : This family (Waynes) is so fucked up, they need help fr fr

*blackmail Batman after he failed to blackmail Nightwing, become a therapist cuz he can't fix his family so fix others*

Near death experience? You wish!

Tim : oh, look it's Jason in- is that a cheap Robin costume?! Ew!!

*got beaten cuz he's too busy thinking about something else instead of focusing in the fight, plus he saw the kid he sort of replaced still alive -a bit murdery- but alive which is good news for his 'fixing Wayne family project'!*

Tim in his depressed and apathic era

Tim : Hm... He said no killing but is it killing if I gave them warning but they choose to ignore me and got caught up in the explosion? No, no it's not. *shrug* Good enough.

*proceeds to bomb Ra's bases and make the creepy immortal rat man loses hair and gain gray hairs at the same time*

Near death experience number unknown? Nah~

Tim : oh wow, I manage to finished all of the assignments and mission right on time! Damn, this is a record! Oh, look at that, the sky looked so clear! Too bad we can't see starts in Gotham, welp, not a bad day to sleep! I can finally sleep!

*sigh out in disappointment when He got caught and land safely on the ground, mourning the sleep he'll never get*

His response is always so relatable and mood to the point I need gen Z artist or something to get inside DC and just let out your chaotic-idgaf-feral-racoon-self so Tim can just be his true self and grow into his potential! I need to see him in his more chaotic nature with flexible moral because dang, he's just so US sometimes.

Or is it just me? Honestly, I saw this post on Pinterest and immediately went to search the original post on timblr -pun intended- just so I can let this out of my head.

Alright, thank your for coming to my Ted talk. Scatter!

i find the dischotomy between the batfam's potential to kill vs their real-world willingness to kill very interesting! so I made a graph because I'm a nerd

[t00thpasteface]

honestly i think a lot of us should consider getting involved in local republican primaries and conventions and stuff to get less cartoonishly evil people into the party. i mean if we're stuck with a two-party system anyway, i feel like it'd be in our best interest to try and defang the worse party, instead of only pushing the vote-blue-no-matter-who angle that's been giving us so many pro-war candidates (or just plain incompetent ones). i mean like pushing from the inside to take face-eating leopard stuff off the platforms... we could potentially fumigate the republican party from the inside out if we really dug into it i think.

my extended family has a statistically above-average gay & trans proportion, and what i've gathered from talking to older/more conservative-leaning relatives is that there seems to be a strong and widespread desire to just see some politicians who will decrease/reprioritize the collection and spending of tax money and reeeeally don't like the way the republican party as an organization always tries to bundle that with attacking queer freedom... the same way i (and many of you i hope) hate the way the democratic party seems to have been bundling promises of various minority protections with drone strikes on the middle east. it would probably be worthwhile to find local politicians and movements that want to get the anti-queer stuff off of the local/county republican platforms before it can spread out to the state or national levels. i really believe the true frothing hatred of the biggest names is a vocal minority... like, in my experience, people in real life really are just like "how's it going man" more often than not. i think there's an untapped potential for a powerful bipartisan de-zealotification.

of course we should be doing the same for the left too, but i really don't think the solution for a two-party system is to just make it a one-party system instead by only showing up every two or four years to vote blue down the ballot and then stop thinking about it the rest of the time. no i don't have all the solutions or the perfect battleplan; this push would look different for every household in every city in america, because this country is so diverse and so are its issues... i just think we should be taking the shaka zulu approach of tackling the system from both sides instead of just throwing ourselves against the left flank only.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The woman doesn’t say a word as she gets in the car. You don’t either. The tension in the car is like the sound of glass about to break. Each breath is another crack. 

The fourth passenger in the car is your confusion. You’re not quite sure why you’re still there. The job is done, right? And this is business. Not your business. You don’t ask. Questions are a bad idea with these kind of people. 

Rogers drives out of town. The old warehouse is ominous and you’re happy you’re not the one he tells to get out. The woman doesn’t hesitate even as you can sense her uncertainty. You only get a brief glimpse of her as she goes as the car pulls away swiftly. 

He retraces the same route. He clears his throat as he passes the city marker. “We needa talk,” he says. 

“We do?” You eke out. 

He sighs and adjusts his grip on the steering wheel, “look, I’m taking you home. You did your job.” 

“Oh, okay,” you fold your hands in your lap. 

“So, let’s discuss the elephant in the room. Discretion,” he intones. 

You thoughtfully mull the world. As far as you’re concerned, the moment you’re out of the car, it’s all behind you. Just a weird fever dream you can forget about. 

“Not that anyone should ask but if they do, you know nothing.” 

He stares at you intently. His blue eyes are bright despite the shadows, as his beard and hair swallow up the dark. He really is a frightening man. You’re fortunate to be walking away. You know that at least. 

“Sure,” you agree. 

“Open the glove box. Your take is in there,” he says. 

You lean forward and do as he says. You take out the envelope. It’s stuffed with bills. That won’t be suspicious at all. You’ll deposit it a little at a time. Wait, should you accept this? It’s blood money, isn’t it? 

“All yours. I’m sure you can figure out something to do with it,” he says. 

You recognize the streets around you. Your neighbourhood isn’t the nicest but it’s home. For now. You watch through the window as you ponder your deal with the devil. You won’t argue with him but you could always give the money to a good cause. 

He pulls up to your building and you tuck the envelope in your purse. That’s it. It’s over. It’ll just be a funny story to tell in twenty years when the heat’s off of you. People won’t believe someone like you had a brush with danger. You can hardly believe it yourself. 

“I’ll stay here til you’re inside. Make sure you don’t have anyone tryna snatch your purse,” he says. 

You look at him, “what are you walking about?” 

He squints and his lashes flick. He shakes his head, “what?” 

“Who are you?” You ask. 

His lips part and he pauses before he speaks, “you hit your head?” 

“Discretion,” you say. “Remember? I don’t.” You tap your head and pull the door handle, “have a good night. Or, er, life.” 

You shut the door gently and turn away. You let out a breath and march staunchly up to the front door. You sense him watching you but you’re not bothered. It’s over. You’re free. 

You go inside, certain to pull the grate door closed heavily before you continue up to your unit. As you get inside, you let your shoulders drop and hang your head back. No more scary men and hopefully, no more fainting. 

You take out your phone and find it just as lifeless as ever. You have a few notices to keep up your game streak but nothing important. Just an email. 

Wait. Before you can swipe it away, your brain catches the name. You applied to the firm months ago. Please, don’t be another rejection. 

You open it, one hand on your phone, the other stirring around for the envelope in your bag. You carry both through the front room of your apartment and into the bedroom. You tap the email to open and put the phone down to look for a hiding spot. 

You tuck the money under your mattress and reclaim your cell. You sit on the bed and read. It’s an offer for an interview. Great timing too. The sooner you can get out of this city, the better. You’ve seen its dark underbelly. No thank you. 

You reply, drafting your acceptance several times before sending. Content, you stretch out the last of the tension. You feel bad for all those people; the man that Rogers beat in the middle of the road, Warren, and whoever that woman was in the backseat. Still, all you have is your empathy. You can’t do much for any of them. 

The night passes so dully that you can almost believe you dreamt the last three days. In the morning, you’re back to the usual, though it doesn’t feel quite so. You get dressed, pack your lunch, and set off for the firm. 

You greet Geraldine as she unlocks the front door of the office. She’s happy to see you. You’re less than happy to see your desk. There’s a dozen post-its stuck to your keyboard. Each with a name and file number. That’s everything you have to catch up on, all scribbled in Brenner’s tight lettering. 

You sit and stack them up neatly. Brenner shows up an hour later. He’s hung over. You can tell by how he keeps his sunglasses on and goes through coffee like a siphon. 

Neither of them acknowledge your absence. They don’t ask and you don’t mention it. If all things go to plan, soon enough, your desk will be filled by someone else. 

You get through a couple post-its before lunch then check your phone. You have a time and date for the interview. Things are moving along. You’re already fantasizing about giving your two-week notice. 

You’re going to be out of here, onto greater things. Just like you set out for. Well, it’s just an interview. You need to be practical about this. One step at a time. For now, you need to shovel through the pile of shit before you. Fresh air is just around the corner. 

[macgyvermedical]

Reference Guide to Writing Drug Withdrawal

So your character has a substance use disorder (or physical dependence to a substance for another reason). This post will tell you how to write a scene (or story) in which they go through withdrawal.

NOTE: THIS POST DOES NOT INTEND TO COVER ANYTHING EXCEPT WITHDRAWAL, WHICH IS A VERY SMALL PART OF SUBSTANCE USE DISORDER AND PHYSICAL DEPENDENCE.

Substance Use Disorders and Physical Dependence:

Substance use disorders are chronic illnesses in which a person continues to use a substance (commonly nicotine, alcohol, cocaine, opioids like heroin or fentanyl, benzodiazepines, etc...) even when acquiring or using the substance can be dangerous or cause significant problems in their life (such as problems with money, safety, law enforcement, job security, child services involvement, or physical problems like wounds, infections, side effects, hangovers, and withdrawal). Substance use disorders are a common cause of physical dependence.

Physical dependence is also it's own problem and can occur for other reasons too. For example, many people take prescription medications that they would go through withdrawal from if stopped abruptly (say, because the pharmacy couldn't fill it in time and they ran out). Assuming that the medication is being taken as prescribed, physical dependence in itself does not mean someone has a substance use disorder.

So what is withdrawal? Withdrawal (sometimes called "detox") is the process by which a body stops being physically dependent on a substance. Generally speaking, it is unpleasant. This is because when a body is exposed to a substance repeatedly, it changes how it functions to accommodate that substance. When the substance is removed, there is a period of time where the body has to re-adjust to not having the substance.

For example, alcohol is very similar to the neurotransmitter (brain chemical) GABA. If you drink a lot of alcohol (more than about 4 drinks per day) for longer than about a month, the body decreases the amount of GABA it makes naturally to accommodate the "fake" GABA from the alcohol. If the alcohol is suddenly removed, the body doesn't have enough GABA, and the effects of not having enough GABA result in withdrawal symptoms.

The difference being, someone taking a medication they no longer want to take can slowly reduce the dose to minimize withdrawal symptoms. Someone with a substance use disorder usually finds cutting back nearly impossible. Because of this, managing physical dependence in someone with substance use disorder generally means giving them a similar substance which they get from a pharmacy and take continuously (methadone, buprenorphine), or a similar substance they can then taper off of in a controlled way (benzodiazepines, gabapentin).

Specific Withdrawal Syndromes:

Alcohol/Benzodiazepines:

These are the only two substances that result in a potentially life-threatening withdrawal syndrome, and it's essentially the same syndrome. As stated above, when taken for either 2 weeks for benzodiazepines or 4 weeks for alcohol, the body decreases the amount of GABA it produces naturally. GABA is the "brake pedal" in the brain, slowing things down and decreasing the amount of activity. If you don't have enough GABA, you get too much activity, which can result in severe anxiety, insomnia, seizures, hallucinations, high blood pressure, temperature, and pulse rate, heart arrhythmias, and confusion.

6-12 hours after a person's last drink, they will experience insomnia, anxiety, tremors, and headache.

12-24 hours after a person's last drink, if untreated with benzodiazepines or gabapentin, they may start to experience hallucinations (they typically know they are hallucinating at this point).

24-48 hours after a person's last drink, if untreated, they may start to experience seizures.

48-72 hours after a person's last drink, if untreated, they may start to experience a severe symptom known as delerium tremens. This is a state where they are hallucinating severely and they don't know they are hallucinating anymore. This is also a state where the person has heart rhythm problems that could result in death. This is the most dangerous period during withdrawal.

If a person makes it through 72 hours, they are usually in the clear as far as life threatening symptoms go, though they may experience mild symptoms like headaches and insomnia for long periods afterwards.

Note that medication for alcohol or benzodiazepine withdrawal like other benzodiazepines, phenobarbital, and gabapentin are given only for the first 5 days of withdrawal, tapering to lower doses each day. This gets the person through the dangerous part hopefully with no life threatening symptoms. It does not mean all symptoms are controlled, but they are hopefully kept on the milder end while the brain learns to make it's own GABA again.

Opioids:

Opioids include a range of drugs including prescription medications like oxycodone, hydromorphone, and morphine, as well as street drugs like heroin. Today, the street drug supply in many places is heavily adulterated. Many samples of heroin (and even "pressed pills" made to look like prescription opioids) contain the much stronger opioid fentanyl (which increases risk of overdose) and the sedative xylazine (which causes wounds) in addition to the expected heroin or oxycodone.

Opioids work by pretending to be endorphins- another neurotransmitter usually used by the body to reduce pain and stress. Similarly to GABA in alcohol use, the body reacts to having sustained high amounts of fake endorphins by decreasing the amount of endorphins it makes itself. This means, when the opioids are no longer present, the body can't make itself feel good or recover from pain.

There are many parts of the body that endorphins work in, including the brain, gut, nerves, and spine. When they are removed, symptoms include:

Nausea and vomiting.

Diarrhea.

Insomnia.

Anxiety.

Increased body temperature.

Racing heart.

Muscle and bone pain.

Sweating.

Chills.

High blood pressure.

There is not really a universal timeline for these symptoms like there is with alcohol. For someone who primarily uses short-acting opioids, withdrawal begins 8-24 hours after the last use (though anxiety and cravings can start much sooner). For people who primarily use long-acting opioids, withdrawal can take up to 36 hours to begin following the last use. Generally, symptoms peak within 1-3 days after they start, and acute symptoms last 10-14 days.

Unfortunately, someone who has an opioid use disorder will frequently experience cravings for very long periods of time (potentially the rest of their life) after they stop use. For this reason, people do significantly better at reducing or stopping use over the long haul if they are taking an opioid replacement drug like methadone or buprenorphine.

Methadone and buprenorphine are prescription medications that a person goes somewhere each day to get (methadone) or picks up each day from the pharmacy (buprenorphine). The drugs essentially make it so the person won't go into withdrawal and will have significantly fewer cravings for as long as they take the drug.

The management of opioid withdrawal is usually done by switching the person from a street drug to one of these opioid replacement drugs. However, it is important to note that methadone doesn't work immediately (usually it takes about 2-5 days of titrating it up to get it to a high enough dose to work, longer if the person has a very high tolerance). Buprenorphine requires a certain amount of time in withdrawal (usually a day or two) before it can be given, or it can make withdrawal worse instead of better (something called precipitated withdrawal).

Once someone is on one of these medications, they can choose to stay on them (recommended) or taper off (nice to be off meds in theory, but high rates of return-to-use).

Cocaine/Amphetamines:

Instead of pretending to be a neurotransmitter, stimulants like cocaine and amphetamines prevent the body from re-absorbing the neurotransmitter dopamine, leading to a whole bunch of it hanging out in the brain. This increases concentration and energy and boosts mood. However, taken over long periods of time, the brain kind of burns out and fails to respond to the high levels of dopamine.

You may have heard that amphetamines and cocaine don't have withdrawal states. That would be a myth. People who use stimulants repeatedly for long periods frequently have a withdrawal that is essentially the opposite of the effects of stimulants- they feel very tired, have trouble focusing, and feel depressed because their brains can't use dopamine the same way they did before the drug use. This may last for weeks after cessation of stimulants.

Unfortunately, unlike with alcohol and opioids, there's not a ton that can be done for this withdrawal. There have been several studies, including testing medications like the antidepressant mertazapine, the migraine medicine topiramate, as well as naltrexone and buproprion (also an antidepressant).

In Conclusion:

There is so much more to drug use, substance use disorder, and physical dependence than I am covering in this post. I am just covering a small part of physical dependence, however the cause, by discussing the effects and common treatments for withdrawal.

Thank you all for reading this far! I hope you learned something and will use it in your writing!

[bumblingbeezzz]

I think somebody out there wants me to kill myself lmao. I keep seeing things on here that could all potentially ruin my mood, and now I see holes getting shot through one of my lifelines amidst the sinking sands of depression. I knew Goku was never entirely a righteous hero, but in fact got a lot of thrill from fighting, which is why he would sometimes leave a worthy opponent alive so he can fight him again, even if they were an extremely dangerous individual to let roam free. But this says that it's literally all he cares about? Some of the claims OP made are, at the very least, not backed up in the source provided by the other poster. It doesn't say here that he only feels companionship not love, and that he would only care for a second if his family and friends died.***

It's pretty messed up. The same article makes both Goku and Toriyama not look so great all at once. In it, he also admits that his motivation for writing DBZ was nothing more than money, and doesn't say that he learned to love it or have any connection to his fans (in fact, he mentions intentionally messing with them and being contrary to their wishes), just seems to imply that it was an easier job than most. I'm tempted to share this with the person who got me into DBZ but also I don't want to ruin anything for them. Then again, they're the type to say "I prefer the brutal truth" so...

Ah fuck but what about all my followers who like DBZ? Goddammit...I wanted to say my piece but I guess it's selfish of me to ruin it for others. But, well, actually there may be some consolation for those who already saw this, because Toriyama also states that he forgets some of the things he writes. He also says he doesn't take care of his illustrations after he finishes them. Which is really weird and kind of disheartening to hear that he had so little passion for the story he built and shared with so many fans worldwide. But the point is, it seems that many fans are closer to the material than even he is, and as I've said before about the Harry Potter series, you can separate the content from the creator by acknowledging that 1) it is fiction and 2) there is a difference between who the author is, how the author interprets their own work, and what enjoyers make of it. These characters live in our consciousness as we built them too. We put our own heart into it just by immersing ourselves in it. Yeah, sure, Toriyama had a different vision of Goku than maybe a lot of fans did, but that doesn't make those interpretations we acquired and stored less valid. We all used our own imaginations to interact with what we watched or read. The version of the character that you see, and which makes the most sense to you is "real," because it's all unreal anyway.

And honestly? A more complex Goku who loves fighting for the thrill of it AND fighting for his friends makes the most sense anyway. We've seen it, we've seen his genuine care and concern. He's proven himself to be "pure of heart."

***Edit: They do actually include more sources that I didn't initially see which does confirm this, at least the part about seeing his family more as companions, though that doesn't change my final statement.

I just really find the fact that the creator of dragonball has stated that Goku canonically cannot feel any kind of love, just ‘companionship’, to be a extremely interesting fact. Like, if his family died he’d be like ‘No!’ and then he’d get over it fairly quickly as if they were only just acquaintances. Same goes with the rest of his friends.

The series creator apparently doesn’t like the anime’s portrayal of Goku. They always cast Goku as a hero, when in the manga he’s really only ‘saving people’ as a side bonus that comes with fighting a stronger opponent. He doesn’t purposefully go in to save anyone unless there is a fight happening at the scene.

So, If Goku hadn’t hit his head, he would’ve just been another Raditz. And it also explains why he’s rather cruel towards Gohan and neglectful towards Chichi.

Apparently Vegeta is the actual exception to his own species. He actually genuinely loves his family, -a rare trait only Goku’s mother was proven to have- whereas Goku is apparently literally unable to have those feelings. It’s kind of ironic; Vegeta is probably the one that would be the most ashamed and resentful to admit he has those kinds of feelings.

[simp-ly-writes]

Love is Blind

─────── · · A Smosh FanFic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Smosh Games is making another title in the smash hit board game series, love is blind, but is it all fun and games- or will you actually end up winning something worth a lot more?

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, super tooth-rotting fluff, part social media au, suggestive themes, attempt at humour, a bit chaotic but the vibes are there.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,570

─ · · A/N: let us all thank the anon that sent this request it! 😊

─────── · ·

"Hello everyone and welcome to the Smosh Games channel today we will be finding out is definitively, is love truly blind? And as you can all see, I am joined here with (name), Amanda, Arasha, Olivia, Spencer, Chance, and Trevor for the first time in this shows history!" Angela introduces the viewer as you all way and cheer for Trevor who hides behind his wine glass with a playful smile.

"How are we all feeling today?" Angela asks the table and Amanda leads first. "Heyyyy, My names Amanda I'm 25 and my friends told me to come on this show. I ummmm, am from New York, yaaa! And I love to party, I work as a marketing assistant!"

"Hi, I'm Olivia, 44, I was told we win money on this show-?" Amanda leans over whispering a loud no, and you laugh as her shoulder drop. "Well, I was going to be on this show to win but now I'm just here for the drama and if I find love, great, whatever- I work as a scientist, can make more money."

"Hello, Name's Trevor and I work in digital media, I-uh am 20-something and love to cook!"

"Its Arasha and I am 20, this is being filmed and Europe so don't you dare take this glass away from me! I work in Digital media as well and if my first date is a walk on the beach, just know that there won't be a second date, m-kay?"

"Sup, I'm straight-Chance and you all have no-chance if I'm the other one in a love triangle. I am 22 and work as an actor, catch me in films you never knew about!"

"I'm Angela, 50, sales, have been divorced thrice and am looking for my fourth special-someone."

"Ummm, hi? I'm (name) i'm (age), and work also in Digital Media. I-uh love table-top games and yeah"

"Hi, I'm Spencer, 33, and also love table-top gaming..." You and Spencer both look at one another with a smile before looking towards Angela as she quickly goes over the rules and the game commences.

─────── · ·

Early on, you were not matching with anyone and that was making you nervous. Sure it was a silly game in all but you were competitive nonetheless and seeing as Olivia, Amanda, and Chance all had multiple connections while you had one and nearly a half, you knew that your odds didn't look great.

"Okay!" it was your turn to read out a question card. "For a date I would: A. Rather stay inside, B. Go out to Dinner. C. Go for a Walk-"

"Fuck the walk," Olivia slammed her card down before you could even show your decision, the cast erupted with laughter as you didn't bat an eyelash and turned over your card. "I said A. Stay Inside. I was thinking we could have a movie night at home or just order in. More intimate that way," you explain. Suddenly feeling the reality of the game come to life as you nervously waited on your peers answers.

"the results are in and only one A... hm" you commented, checking it off on your card with a small from. This unknown person was really running away with your scorecard, only one more point and you could propose- potentially winning the game. It was time to lock it in.

Round after round, question after question, you and this person were connecting effortlessly, it even had you questioning if you had both broken the game by how in-sync your answers were. So much so that the other members of cast started wiggling their eyebrows in your direction as your cheeks warmed.

"Okay guys! Its only just a game but a game I do intend to win!"

─────── · ·

So focused on creating a strategy to match your unknown match, you were none the wiser to Angela calling out your name multiple times.

"C'mon you are sounding like my ex-wives, never listening to me. Please stand up, I have something to say, no one else is playing the purple character" Angela yelled across the table, pointing in your face as you held your hands up and walked around to stand in front of the table.

"(name), even though we both have not known one another for long, I have fallen so in love with you. More in love than my other two, or was it three wives? and however many children I father... just know that I want to have you be mine. Please marry me?" Angelas voice cracks near the end, she conceals her laughter by biting her shoulder as you bring up your hands to your mouth to do the same.

Your eyes are clouding in tears before you burst out in laughter and say no, watching as she collapses to her side and bellows out dramatic cries before standing back up and asking Olivia to come over, they both end up getting engaged.

"I would actually like to call someone forward. If the blue character could greet me at the front, please." And to your shock (and internal horror yet delight), Spencer steps forwards, your eyes wide as saucers as he smiles at you. Forgetting what to do Spencer looks down, reminding you to propose much to everyones enjoyment and your embarrassment as Tommy shouts out from behind the camera, "Could love truly be blind???"

"Shut-up, please! Spencer, I-uh. Well we have connected a lot over this game, we see eye-to-eye and have formed a meaningful connection over these hours that have felt like years. I never knew someone could match my freak, so to speak and would you do me the honour of marrying me?" you take the ring out of your back pocket, presenting it to Spencer who appears to have the blush of his own.

You both stand their still in that moment, forgetting the cast, crew, and cameras, "yes, I do- I mean yes I will marry you." Standing up to place the ring on his finger, you both hug and hold each other for a moment too long for what should be a cut scene before taking to your seats.

In all honesty, you both forget that you are still holding each others hands after the cut-scene and it carries through to the end of the game.

─────── · ·

The drama continues yet for you and Spencer, it was smooth sailing as you both did not go out looking for a 'better connection' and end up making it to your wedding day. you keep having to remind yourself that this is a mere fantasy, a game but it feels too real as Spencer takes your hands in his own, smiling and whispering jokes for only you to hear as Tommy reads out your vows.

"And do you, Spencer, take (name) to be your lawfully wedded spouse? In sickness and in health? For richer or poorer? For both as long as you shall live always?"

"yes, I do," Spencer says, placing the ring on your finger, bringing it up to his face for a kiss as your face heats up more than it has all game. "And (name) do you take Spencer to be your lawfully wedded spouse? In sickness and in health? For richer or poorer? For both as long as you shall live always?"

"I do." And the cast and crew all stand and cheer as in that moment you both debate on kissing one another. "Are you playing?-"

"Never," Spencer eases your worries, "could I kiss you?" he asks in a soft tone, wanting to cherish the moment you both know to be real.

"Yes, please." And then his lips are on your own, the world silenced yet again, his had cupping your cheek as you lean into his touch.

─────── · ·

When the cameras cut, your lips still tingling and your face set with an unmoving smile that Spencer mirrors. You two are the only ones left on the set as Spencer leans against the table, "I know this seems a bit weird considering that we're married-" you laugh before asking him to continue with hopeful eyes as he reaches out to hold your hand, you accept, fingers intertwining.

"Would you want to go out sometime?"

"Yes, I would really like that."

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🔔 Spennser just posted, check it out!

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Liked by trevorevarts, ianhecox, co_mill and others

spennser first date and just married, quite the day! w/@.yourusername

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yourusername you forgot engaged too*

↳ spennser sorry my bad 😞

username24 if you two didn't end up going out after THAT episode, I would believe that love is dead, not blind... or well maybe both idk

Ianhecox this post is doing numbers, please make more videos together, we need these profit margins 🙏

co_mill you two are so cute, can't wait for when you actually get married! 🥹

↳ spennser who says that that wedding was fake? 🤨 ↳ co_mill no, you are correct. I have no idea what I was saying earlier, beautiful ceremony, now can I have your spouse? ↳ spennser no ❤️

username88 no @.username01 comments?? What in the world is happening here??

trevorevarts cograts, cograts, congrats, and congrats (I think I got them all?)

anthonypadilla I leave smosh again for one day to go to the doctors and now another pair of you are getting married, wtf?

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─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp @sarahskywalker-amidala

[hyperlexichypatia]

can you elaborate on why you don't think nursing homes should exist? I'm genuinely curious, not trying to engage in bad faith, but i do feel like many elders do need a level of medical care that can't be provided well in a home environment, and benefit socially from being surrounded by their peers. is it more a matter of eliminating the huge staff-"client"(-billpayer, generally a younger relative) power differentials and potential for abuse that exists there, the way nursing homes tend to be relatively isolated from the surrounding community & many restrict certain freedoms, or is there something else more inherent to the structure (i.e., incapable of being reformed or mitigated) that I'm missing? i guess i'm wondering how different a more just model for elder care would look from nursing homes

Yeah, it's everything you said -- nursing homes inherently restrict their residents' freedoms (how many would pass the burrito test?), don't see the residents as the decision-making clients, infantilize and segregate their residents, etc.

As for socializing with their peers, if older disabled people lived among the general population, they could still socialize with other older disabled people if they wanted to, and also with younger people, abled people, and others. "This population that has been systemically excluded from society should live among themselves in a congregate setting so they can socialize" isn't a particularly good argument for nursing homes; it's an argument against the ageist/ableist segregation that exists in the rest of society.

Could nursing homes be reformed/mitigated? I mean, I'm a strong harm reductionist; I believe every harmful institution should be reformed and mitigated as much as possible. That might mean more freedom for residents, more privacy for residents, more transportation to and from other places in the community. But if a nursing home were "reformed" to the point that it was no longer harmful -- if it no longer exerted coercive control over its residents, if its residents had the same freedom and privacy and autonomy and freedom of movement as anyone in the outside world -- it would functionally cease to be a "nursing home" and would just be... well, an apartment building. Or, if it's an apartment building specifically for older disabled people, without the coercive control, a "retirement community" (although sometimes coercive-control nursing homes are also called "retirement communities" so who knows?).

Home and community based services for disabled people, if properly funded, can replicate most of the assistance a nursing home provides -- now, I do say most, but people who need multiple-times-a-day medical care from a medical provider might choose a living situation that involves specific proximity to medical care. That doesn't mean a nursing home; it might mean, for example, an apartment building near a hospital that caters to people undergoing regular treatment. But it's important that many nursing home residents don't need daily medical care from medical providers. They they need accessible assistance with activities of daily living, which can easily be made accessible outside a medicalized setting, and, in particular, without the coercive control of a nursing home.

Or, short version (sorry, I have a fever) -- the problem with nursing homes is the coercive control. Fund home and community based services. Hire CNAs and install accessible features in the homes of disabled people who need them with the money governments and families can save by abolishing nursing homes. Not everyone in a nursing home is there because they need medical treatment, but even for those who do, there are ways to situate housing and medical needs in proximity to each other that don't involve residents being forcibly drugged or given a bedtime or needing permission to have sex. Let Grandpa fuck (if he wants to).

[ficandkaboodle]

You know what? I like the idea of Copia’s potential dating life being absolutely rattled by his well-meaning but absolutely insane family.

Primo tells him to do it old school and offer his crush flowers. Proceeds to create a bouquet of poisonous plants for Copia to present (“Careful not to let this one receive more than two hours of sunlight.” “Per day??” “No, in total. Too much sun and it releases spores they haven’t yet created an antidote for.”). Copia coincidently forgets the bouquet in his room when he goes to meet his crush.

Secondo tells Copia to take control. To flaunt his wealth and power and his crush will throw themselves at his feet. Now, Copia does enjoy fine materials himself. But…the idea that they’ll only want to be with him because of his money and means just agitates his anxieties about being unwanted as a person. He only feels vaguely better and more full of hope when his crush notices he’s down and offers him a juice box. They ask if he’d mind if they sat next to him with their own and he sheepishly gives them the okay. He’s fighting for his life to not let his blush region turn ablaze.

Terzo means well the most, offering advice. But it’s of the sexual variety. And while Copia does want to do…stuff…with them eventually, he feels much more comfortable wooing them first. “Ah. Well. Lean into being Italian, then. Though…When I say ‘lean’, I actually mean to dive headfirst into it. You need the help.” (Yes, that was inspired by this ) Copia, dressed in his red sweats and a shirt that reads “Sweet Dreams Are Made of Cheese 🧀”, furrows his brows in confusion. “What do you mean by this?” he asks, taking a sip of his juice box.

Even if she’s dead, Sister stays working. This includes messing with the schedule to make sure Copia’s crush frequently interacts with him. However…she almost literally hovers. Telling Cardi to fix his posture, to speak up, but also to not be distracted — You’d think she wouldn’t really care about her son’s love life but I think in a way, her interfering is an extension of her efforts to make it up to him for the life he wound up having. Suffice it to say, it stresses Copia out.

Nihil…You can’t just… You can’t give your son advice on making out in the car and groping and whatnot. And for the life of SATAN, STOP IMPLYING YOU USED THIS SHIT ON YOUR SON’S MOTHER —

At the end of the day, though his family probably means well, they’re just not good for this and make the whole situation worse. Either Copia toughs it out and tries to woo his crush on his own, or Only Sane Man Psaltarian just cuts it straight and tells him “Just ask them out. If it doesn’t work, you tried and it’ll be over quicker than if you just nursed this. If it dies, la dee dah.”

[mareastrorum]

Adding onto this. I'm an attorney, but I don't work in this area.

Get an estate planning attorney. Don't rely on services like Legal Zoom because they're literally just forms that may not be the best option for you or your family. You want a lawyer for the advice.

Family, estate, trust, guardianship/conservatorship, and adoption laws all vary by state. They don't change very often, but they can be difficult to navigate. What the documents are called, what they can do, and what happens without them all vary by state. Get an attorney licensed in the state where you live.

Most attorneys in this practice area offer packages like (a) a simple will alone, (b) a full set of documents, (c) trusts + other docs, etc. These packages usually are meant to cover a certain amount of hours working on the documents, including the back and forth discussions and going in to sign the documents with witnesses and a notary. Your retainer agreement will likely mention that if they go over that number of hours, there's an additional charge; it's unlikely that prepping the plan would take more than 10 lawyer/paralegal hours except in complex cases. Depending on the attorney's experience and geographical area, it may be a few hundred dollars for a package.

Some attorneys may suggest an hourly rate instead of a package. Don't psyche yourself into thinking you'll save money because you'll save money by not asking questions. You should ask questions. Get a package. People who need to pay an hourly rate (for however long it takes) are people who have so much money and so many assets to account for, they don't really worry about the rate or the hours.

Before you meet with an attorney, make a basic list of what you're worried about. Do you have property or savings that need to be taken into account? Do you have kids? Is anyone on their second+ marriage? A good attorney will have a pretty comprehensive questionnaire or interview to figure out your needs, but you still want to go in with a general idea so that you're ready to talk about it.

You may want to ask the attorney if they work in more than just estate planning. An attorney that also does probates, adoptions, guardianships, etc. is actually a good sign because that attorney has a better idea of what happens when things go wrong. Some firms have attorneys that do one area, but they group to share their clients as they need each of these services. It's not uncommon, and it's not a bad thing.

Basic list of potential documents you may need (again, varying by state):

Will: When you die, who gets your assets after your debts are paid? If you don't decide this, the state has default "intestate" rules that may fuck over your partner, kids, etc. This is the document where you ask your attorney if there's ways to ensure that your partner and all dependents will receive what you want them to even if your legal relationships are invalidated. (Sometimes, a will can direct all assets to a first choice, then to a second choice, and if it turns out someone is still underage, hold the assets in a trust. They can be conditional sometimes!)

Personal property designation (sometimes can be separate from the will): When you die, do you have specific items of personal property (NOT MONEY OR LAND) that you want to go to specific people? For example, maybe you want to leave everything of value to your partner, but you have a Babe Ruth baseball for a cousin. Maybe you want to avoid your family fighting over who gets what pieces in your Beanie Baby collection. You'll be dead; let everyone be angry at you instead of each other.

Guardianship nomination (may be part of another document): Who would you nominate as guardian of your children and wards if you (and your spouse) die or are incapacitated? THIS IS INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT IF YOU ARE NOT IN A CISHET MARRIAGE. BOTH OF THOSE THINGS: CISHET AND MARRIAGE.

Financial Power of Attorney: Who do you want to handle all of your assets if you are incapacitated? Literally everything. This person could fleece you, so it has to be someone you trust not to do that. Often times, you can also name a backup in case your chosen person is incapacitated, and it's suggested in case you and your partner get into an accident. (NOTE: Sometimes, if you are a single person with a fair amount of assets, it can be a good idea to name your attorney. This might be a preferred option if your next of kin cannot be trusted. It costs money, but if you are at all worried about what your family might do, at least have that discussion with your attorney so you can learn your options.)

Healthcare Power of Attorney: Who do you want to make all medical decisions if you are incapacitated? Who do you trust to make decisions you would have wanted? Who do you think could handle this without getting their own emotions in the way? Who would actually be available where you live to make those decisions? You can also name a backup for this as well.

HIPAA authorization: Who is allowed to access your medical records if you are incapacitated? This should at least match your healthcare POA, and you may want to allow biological relatives to do this too if you have any genetic predispositions.

Health Care Directive/"Living Will": Do you want to be resuscitated if your heart stops? You can decide either way, but this means your next of kin doesn't have to make a snap decision on your behalf while you are actively dying.

Trust: The utility and purpose of a trust HEAVILY VARIES BY STATE AND YOUR CIRCUMSTANCES. For example, they are super popular in California, but they're usually excessive in Washington. There's also different kinds of trusts. Ask your attorney what the benefits would be over a traditional will. Maybe it's worth it, maybe it's not.

This is a scary time. Making a plan means you're ready if something goes wrong. Breathe, talk with your loved ones, and make a plan.

Before January 2025:

If you are a USAmerican in a relationship that might be affected by legislation that dissolves same-sex marriages, who may no longer be recognized as next-of-kin, especially if you have children, get your rights in writing!

Your marriage certificate may not be enough to prove you have rights to make medical decisions for non-biological children or for a same-sex spouse or partner.

Go to a lawyer, get it spelled out as clearly as possible that you have a voice in emergency medical and legal situations.

[fuckyourchampionship]

did you see the comments Stella made about how the wdc was never their first priority, like are you kidding me?? Why the hell did they sacrifice Oscar then? If the WCC is always first priority, why did they need to swap for the sprint? Everyday this team manages to piss me off even more

⚠️My opinion on what's going on in McLaren, if you like Lando please don't read (although this is not hate on him but I prefer to warn). If you have other thoughts write to me the discussion is always open⚠️

Yes I saw it, so it's not that easy.

Let's start at the beginning Stella first said that Oscar is the future of the team then suddenly after winning in Baku he said that half of this win belongs to Norris(where does this sudden change come from?), and at this point let's think about what could have happened.

So the team internally disagrees with itself because Stella sees potential in Oscar and Zak Brown loves his boy Norris.

Brown is the boss so he told Stella that Norris has to be the priority so he did that, he didn't give Oscar the upgrade and gave him worse strategies, and the team orders came in

But this is where the problems begin because as it turns out Norris is not a great driver even though he already has 6 years of experience and Stella probably sees it and let's be honest with ourselves no one would put money on a driver who can't keep the first position on the first corner.

Did the team believe in Norris and his championship? Absolutely not.

Are the people around norris, himself, his family and friends, zak brown, his father who puts a lot of money in mclaren absolutely yes, they believed he would win.

Recently Max F friend of norris cried in the stream that oscar should give up positions to norris so it's quite simple mclaren had pressure from the media and norris' family to have him have a bigger priority.

that's why they told him to give up positions in the sprint, was it stupid of course it was, knowing from the very beginning that norris had no chance of winning, but the media was pressuring and probably norris's father who puts a lot of money into mclaren

And stella sees what the fuck is going on but doesn't have much to say because he could get fired just like oscar, mark sees it too and understands perfectly well that oscar can't go too crazy either(zak brown loves pato so what's the problem with kicking oscar out and putting pato in, none, that's why oscar had to listen to teams orders)

So I'm absolutely not surprised by Stella's statement, the truth is that Norris is not a driver of the caliber of Max, maybe he will be one day but he is not now.

and let's also answer why McLaren didn't use teams orders earlier because they see Oscar's potential and they don't want to kill this potential, he's too good to play the second driver and we have to thank Max for this excellent race because now Oscar doesn't have to listen to team orders.

They have no idea what to do with the drivers because they don't agree with each other

in conclusion something is wrong inside mclaren

You can't believe what they say either, you have to see what they will do, recently there was also an article that there will be no teams orders and right after them there were, ending with McLaren it's one big chaos

Okay, I hope what I wrote makes sense because I'm writing it quickly, write in the comments, maybe you have a different opinion on this topic.This is just my opinion so don't take it seriously because it could be completely different but that's how I see it and because of what's been happening in McLaren lately

[rubberduckearrings]

i never post anything serious on here but the results of the election have genuinely thrown me for a loop!

as someone living in the uk i cant even begin to imagine how scary this is for all the women, lgbtq, poc, disabled, and so many other people that trump's policies target. if you are living in the usa or are just scared, please talk to someone because you are not alone.

HOWEVER!!

if you are reading this and you did vote for trump or support his policies, here is the type of person you've elected to be your president:

said he wanted to "restore germany to its former glory"

said he would be dating ivanka trump if she wasnt his daughter

was walking behind a TEN YEAR OLD GIRL on an escalator and said "i'm gonna be dating her in ten years"

had sex with a porn star and paid her $130 million in hush money while his wife was pregnant

has been found guilty of falsifying business records, conspiracy to defraud the usa, and conspiracy AGAINST the rights of citizens

been accused of sexual misconduct in at least 26 cases, including minors, and has been found liable in court for sexual abuse

is the only president to have been impeached twice (abuse of power and obstruction of Congress in 2019, incitement of insurrection in 2021)

reversed majority of obama's action taken to fight climate change

after george floyd's murder, he ordered the police to clear a crowd of blm protestors with tear gas and stun grenades so he could take a photo in lafayette square

held an INDOOR rally just months after the country shut down due to covid

if that doesn't say enough about him as a person, please take a good look at the project 2025 manifesto, or if you can't be bothered to do that then have a look at some articles like this one:

i mentioned earlier that i live in the uk and at first i thought about how i probably have no reason to be worried. his policies dont affect me. but then i thought a little more about the domino effect this could have. trump's reelection sets a precedent for other countries to follow suit, and this will only get stronger once he starts making the changes he's promised. im scared for my own future, i cant even imagine how the minorities living in america feel right now.

if you wanna help, share the articles, donate to the charities, sign the petitions, attend the protests, just be loud!!! be as persistent as possible about it and people will be forced to listen.

i would also like to add that if you support donald trump please get the fuck off my page i dont want you here. okay bye :3

[vaggieslefteye]

ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ↳ anonymous asked: HUSK and ALASTOR or angel and valentino?

[angrenwen]

"The rest of the gods however really didn’t have a reason to be this mad. It wasn’t like you were a bad person, quite the opposite in fact! Ever since you had discovered your potential for magic, you had worked on making things better, to brighten lives and help those who needed a bit of a hand to get up again.

You crept down the street, feeling rather like a criminal rather than a person on a mission to help. There was a symbol people had come up so you’d find the houses that were in need of a little bit of help. Some healing here and there, easing the grief of a lost loved one, supporting someone through their own ventures of learning magic, easing droughts and helping prevent floods. You were useful for all kinds of things and it filled you with a deep, ever growing purpose to lend a hand.

You left on your fifth house after easing a newborn’s fever and quietly advising the parents on how to keep the child on its road to recovery, when you felt the familiar presence of one of the gods. One of the Five Founders, in fact, who had shaped the world before the rest of the deities had either come along or had been born.

The goddess of passion and elation, on other parts of the wold also known as the God of Creation, a tall, powerful woman who seemed to be everywhere at once, always watching over artists and warriors who honed their craft, proudly presenting it to her. You had spotted shimmers and shadows of her across the centuries, watching as she helped artists make the money they needed to keep going, how she had stood at the back of a passionate speaker, hands on his shoulders to lend him strength when his voice threatened to shake.

She was one of the most powerful gods and sometimes…sometimes you wondered if she truly was your enemy. There was no way the Goddess hadn’t noticed you lurking about, but she always seemed to consider her work far more important than hunting you down. And even when she found a free moment to join the search party of the pantheon, she never seemed to look too closely. Or, she never seemed to see you, even when your eyes had once met and she had carried on, walking past where you had huddled down.

You crept along the alleyway, keeping a close eye on where she was currently helping a despairing singer regain her passion. You couldn’t hide from the gods for long, not when they were actively looking for you and you were in the same world as them, but you could sense them at the very least when they appeared and run before they could catch you.

You dropped by one of the houses with Brenan’s descendants, making sure they had everything they needed. Still, even if you were welcome you felt like a stranger now after three centuries, more story than person. You would always watch over them, however. You had promised Brenan to do so on his dying bed and no matter how bitterly lonely you were more often than not, you would not falter. As long as people had need of you, you were determined to be there for them.

You were, therefore, all the more surprised when you later saw a temple with your symbol etched into the side of the gate, small enough that anyone else would have overlooked it. You hadn’t set so much as a single toe into a temple after the gods had gotten furious with your continued existence. You missed it sometimes, the worshipping, the hope that if you got tired and worn, there would still be some kind of higher power to at least talk to. Nowadays you spoke to the void in your little pocket dimension, cut off from the rest of the wold.

Sometimes, there was a small seed of resentment within you when you thought of the gods. Why could they not accept you? Why was it so horrible that you lived? You did so much good, could that, at least, balance the scales in their eyes?

You were therefore very wary when you approached the temple, knocking cautiously. Strangely enough, whoever, the faint trace of godly power that usually resided in every temple was nowhere to be found.

A haggard maiden opened the door, but her face lit up a bit at spotting you. "Please, come in," she said, voice soft but carrying and underlying thread of exhaustion. "Thank you for hearing us."

"How may I be of aid?" you asked, edging inside as though the floor might suddenly turn to lava. "I will do my best to help."

The maiden gestured towards the dais at the back of the temple and you realized there were no effigies anywhere, not even any stained glass pictures. There was only your symbol again, etched into the dais and an older woman in pale blue-green robes, almost reminding you of the faintest shimmer of the sea.

You quietly approached the woman who looked up, her tired face easing with sudden relief.

"War is on the horizon, the city doesn’t know it yet, but they will soon," she said and you resisted the urge to wince. There were wars everywhere and as much as you could heal and help and bring laughter to bleak homes, you had so far not managed to stop the marching of an army, to change the minds of those too power hungry to care for the folk ground beneath the heels of their ambitions.

You hadn’t studied destruction magic enough to force someone to stop, how to make the armies bleed and bleed until they were too thin and weak to continue on. You couldn’t even stomach the thought of killing someone just to prove your point, never mind entire battalions.

"I don’t know if I can help," you admitted with great reluctance, fiddling with your dark blue-grey cloak. "I have never prevented a war before."

The woman glanced at you. "We do not ask for the impossible, but when the armies come, there will be injured and the dead and fields burned and salted to destroy our harvest. Our rivers will swim with corpses and our wells will be empty or poisoned."

"I can help with those things." You felt a breath of relief at her words. This, yes, this you could do. You could cleanse water and bury the dead and heal the sick and injured and return the earth to its former state to feed its people again. The deity of nature shouldn’t protest your hand in things either, you had figured out over the years that she was always very upset about wars and argued relentlessly with the god of war.

The woman smiled, her drawn, worried face easing to a true smile. And this, this was truly why you did everything you did. Why you risked your life and studied magic scrolls until late at night, why you didn’t stop searching until you found the solution you wanted. Seeing someone smile after all that worry and fear was like watching the sun rise for the first time. Beautiful and warm and bright and precious.

The sudden arrival of a group of gods made you flinch and startle, eyes wide. That had been far too fast an approach, but it couldn’t have been the temple, there was no god here.

"I fear I must go," you said, pulling up the hood of your cloak and backing up to the door at the back of the temple. You were loath to destroy anything but you would jump through the window if necessary. The one and only drawback of your pocket dimension was that you had to be outside, earth below and sky above and neither obscured in order to open the gate and step through.

The walls shook as the doors blew open and a massive form ducked through. The god of war came first, dressed in splendor and spilling power like a rushing, deadly river after autumn storms. The deity of storms came next, air crackling with soon approaching thunder, feet never touching the ground and winds howling in their hair.

You ran.

Running from gods was about as easy as running from ancient, supernatural beings, which meant you made it two steps before a towering being of world shaping and shattering power stood over you, a glowing hammer swinging down.

Teleportation was, of course, a thing you could do, but you needed a moment to make it work properly, otherwise it could end disastrous. Just because you were immortal didn’t mean you couldn’t be killed.

Dropping low, you felt the sweep of the hammer missing you by a mere millimeter, your clothes dragging in the powerful draft of the deadly swing. You dove forward, rolling between the wide-legged stance the god of war had taken to attack, knowing that behind you there would already be another deity waiting.

Springing to your feet you threw up enough of a disorienting spell to avoid another attack, sprinting for the open doors. Tossing spells over your shoulder, you managed to duck around the deity of storms, avoiding the crackling thunder only because you had invented a new spell to counter it long enough to leave immediate reach.

As soon as your foot met crooked cobblestone and you saw the sky thick with storm clouds, the other deities, some rising from the ground like earthen monoliths, others descending from the sky like birds of prey and more again materializing like fog. You ripped open the pathway to your pocket dimension and went through, just as pain exploded along your side.

The rip had closed immediately behind you, but not before you felt the faint zing of lightning, your body not quite feeling pain but tumbling to the ground in a shaky, paralyzed mess.

By the time you got up to your knees again, you had healed the gash in your side and dragged yourself to a chair, flopping into it, breathing hard and staring up. You could almost hear Brenan, scolding you for being reckless and Liesel would have snarled her fury, would have draped you in defensive spells and would have demanded to be at your side, hurling all her magic at those threatening you.

Gods, you missed them so much.

You took a moment longer to calm down, before you used a spell to get the blood out of your clothes and you mended the rips afterwards. You knew where the gods were now, so you could drop by at another spot in the world.

With a wave of your hand, you were opening another gateway and returned to the world you refused to abandon.

More days and weeks passed until months had gone by and when you cautiously returned to visit Brenan’s children once again, war had hit the lands hard. You barely had a moment to breathe, healing the sick and injured, cleansing water and purifying the earth. Afterwards, even if it was getting more and more dangerous, you stayed to help fix homes. You might not be a gifted builder, but as long as one directed you, you could make stones and wood float. It took you minutes to cut down swathes of trees and turn them into planks they could use to keep building.

When the sky rumbled you were in the middle of rebuilding the last townhouse and you had already used almost all of your magic. Not that you would have gone and fought gods directly anyway, you would only end up pulverized. For all your abilities and immortality, you were still mortal.

The presence of the goddess of creation had been there all day long as usual, a faint trace as she watched over those who called to her, but now there was a piercing slam of godly energy as the heavens themselves seemed to split open to allow them all through.

You couldn’t just drop the levitation spell of the ceiling beams, workers would get buried beneath and you moved them out of the way, grim expectancy of death gripping your joints like fingers of ice.

When suddenly, people stood between you and the gods, faces a horrible mixture of terrified-determined, arms outstretched as they shouted up at their creators to stop.

You had never expected this. The people loved their gods, loved the plentiful harvest the goddess of earth brought them, admired the warriors who followed the call of war and adored the god of sleep, praying for good dreams. They worshipped the sun and moon, the tides and storms, the birth of new life and they prayed for passing souls to have a good afterlife. The gods were loved, still, but you hadn’t realized you had been able to give the people something they hadn’t. Whether they couldn’t or wouldn’t didn’t matter, not when you had filled that void.

With wide eyes you watched the barrier of people, people you had healed and cheered up and helped fix leaking roofs. People you had known since the day they had been born, who had known you as a legend come to life.

You gently set down the beams, the workers safe now and the women of the empty, godless temple stepped up to flank your side, more citizens pouring out into the streets.

"Give up the imposter," the god of oceans boomed, the very air feeling heavy with moisture, making it hard to breathe. "You have all been blinded for too long."

"No harm will come to you," the god of death stepped forward, voice gentle and kind. 

There was an involuntary flinch away from them by everyone around, an instinctive, deeply rooted human desire to not meet them too early. But they had a soft kindness to them, something infinitely patient and deeply welcoming, promising a soft resting place, an easing of any aches and pains, be they of body, mind or soul. 

Death, in your opinion, was the kindest of the gods despite their ire with you cheating them. You knew, when your time came, they would still be gentle with you, would usher your soul on with the utmost care, a soft kind of love for the very fact that you existed at all. 

You weren’t ready to leave, yet, though and maybe it made you a cheat and a hypocrite that you would deny other humans who weren’t ready either, but immortality was a different kind of burden, one very, very few were truly capable of shouldering. You yourself sometimes felt like buckling beneath all the years piling up on your shoulders, all the time passing in your mind.

You eased back a step, gathering what remained of your magic close, a last tendril of it to rip the world open so you could step into your little pocket of safety.

A sudden numbness spread, the gathered magic dissipating again to its dormant hum and your hands didn’t move, your legs felt strangely detached. You only realized you had sank to the ground when the two temple ladies grabbed your elbows, easing your way down. The world was strange, you thought. Sound was distorted and your sight a little blurry.

"Everything ends," one of the gods said and your head lulled forward to see the single, deadly flower blooming at your feet, having wormed its way through the cobblestone. For the first time since the gods had shown up, unprepared for your escape route, you had stayed still long enough for them to try anything this quiet and subtle.

Oh, you thought as your body felt more and more detached, the distorted sound growing duller and the world turned into a strange blur of color, as though an artist had dipped their hand into paint and dragged it across the canvas multiple times. This is what dying feels like.

Warm hands cupped your cheeks and the muffled sound around you changed, a soft, steady chanting. A song, what a sweet thing to send you off on. More voices joined and you sank into the hands on your cheeks, the hands helping you lean against a soft chest, a child’s small fingers finding and grabbing your bigger ones.

Strange, for some reason you had always thought you would die alone. And bloodier. Maybe that was the final mercy of the gods.

The song swelled and grew, words you could not decipher, but the rhythm, the very essence of it seeped into you, brought warmth back into your bones and it wrapped around your heart. That unexpected love and gratitude of these people, who would even stand firm in the face of godly wrath to protect you. 

You were sure you were crying and smiling as your breathing stuttered.

The warm hands on your cheeks left briefly, a necklace being pulled over your head, before they returned. Another set of hands came to rest over your heart, pressing down the necklace while they were at it.

More sound, almost as if from far away and as if it came through some kind of wall, but it was swiftly drowned out by the song. A song which grew to overtake your senses and the last bit of your leftover magic opened up to it, seeking that kindness in your final moments.

It was more than a mere song, you realized as your magic entwined with something that was more, something that was hope and defiance and gratitude and a call to the very foundations of the pantheon itself.

A call your soul answered, heavy with the years of immortality, buoyed by the love you held for this world, a steady, relentless will to do good with your powers. You had sought for something all these years, whether you knew it or not. A new connection after losing Brenan and Liesel and becoming less of a person and more of a fairy tale, a story people told their children so they’d be good and have good things happen to them in return.

And now, now there it was, as human hands held you up the same way you had once pulled them off their knees. And their calls were loud and their song was strong and their souls were hopeful, calling for the very thing you had always given them whenever you could.

Air filled your lungs with a big gasp as you felt the pantheon reach back to touch your very essence, answering the song that was a prayer of the people around you. Warmth bloomed back into your limbs and your heart beat, as strong as ever and your mind began to clear, your vision returning.

You were kneeling on the ground and you knew you there was a part of you that was human, still, but now there was more. You looked up, eyes wide to see the suddenly still and silent gods gathered around, the song of the citizens slowing to a quiet end.

You looked at the gods and suddenly you knew them, you knew all the names humanity had given them over the centuries and the true ones they had come into existence with. You saw their realms and their powers, how they coveted power and feared the loss of it. How their emotions were as wild as those of their creations and they worked for ever greater heights.

You felt your understanding of the world stretched further and bigger than just them, however. You felt, in this brief instance, the entirety of the pantheon, the vast power of the endless sky, the stories caught in stars and you heard the voices of all those who had passed, cheering and shouting and loudest among them Brenan’s voice. You hadn’t forgotten his voice even once, even after centuries and you heard him shout and scream for your victory loudest of all and you knew, suddenly you knew he was within reach again, that gods could walk the realms freely.

And then, there it was, a touch from somewhere far away, from an entirely different world, Liesel’s fierceness and suddenly she wasn’t gone, unreachable. Suddenly all that separated the two of you was just another rip, another gateway. The world had expanded and laid itself beneath your hands and you couldn’t help but breathe it in, breathe in all that lived and died and hoped and dreamed and kept going against all odds.

A sob caught in the back of your throat, a deep, hopeless yearning in you finally coming to rest now that your dearest friends, your long lost family was within reach again. Finally that age-old grief eased its grip.

You looked down on yourself and you saw faintly glowing, pale sea-green robes and a necklace around your throat, the symbol the people had given you dangling from it in simple iron.

Creation stepped forward at last, breaking the stillness, her voice an awed whisper, "A light in the dark," she said and when you looked up, you saw no confusion, no startled surprise in her face. There was nothing but fierce pride, the edges softened by awed adoration.

She had known, you realized. She had known what would happen, because this song hadn’t just come from nowhere. People had planned, had whispered to each other every time you had to flee, every time they saw blood left in your wake, every time they had to hide you from the gazes of the other gods they still worshipped. They had seen and planned and they had started to…to create. Of corse she had known, she was the essence of creation herself.

And she was so very, very proud, of you and of all the people around you for having succeeded in this. Looking at the other gods, you saw they had feared this very thing, had feared this very moment and had hunted you because of it. They had been terrified of you, a mortal, being raised by the others to stand with them as an equal, feared they would all end up being replaced, one after another.

Or maybe, even more than that, they had feared proof that they weren’t enough, that they had fallen short to the point where humanity had to create a god of their own to be held up in their faces.

Creation stepped forward and for the first time you saw her truly and fully as herself. Her wildly flowing, thick hair, her clothes ever changing to display all that artisans across the world and centuries were capable of, countless tools dangling from her belt. She stopped in front of you, none of the humans standing in her path now and she held out her hand, calloused by hard work.

"Rise," she said, her voice ringing clear like temple bells and the grin on her face was still fierce and so very proud. "Deity of Hope and Mercy.""

Ages ago you discovered immortality and then had the time to learn the strongest magics. But the gods were jealous and banded together to smite you. To escape their wrath, you hid in another dimension, coming back for only short, safe periods of time, to help people in their time of need.

[deoidesign]

Hello! I just discovered your blog and I immediately became captivated by your webcomic, but I'm unsure where to read all of it. I know it's on Webtoons, but I can see it hasn't been updated for a while, and you still post about it.

Are your physical novels just prints of the webcomic? Are they a continuation? Is the story complete? Thanks in advance!

Hi there!

Glad you found me and are enjoying my comic!

It's only on webtoons, and the story is not complete yet! We're 2/3 of the way through right now. It's currently on hiatus, and it's scheduled to come back in about 2 months!

I'll explain why it's been so long if you're curious, but also for my followers who might also be wondering about it under the cut. Sorry, it's pretty much just me complaining haha

I took a month off I took 2 months to get the books printed I took a month to prepare my next comic and I took 2 months to write the rest of the series (I knew the character arcs I wanted, but not the time periods or mysteries!!!) I've been working on actual episodes since then

I had to take some time off because of some pretty extreme burnout due to the sheer amount of work it was to draw over 800 pages and write 6 complete stories in a year and a half... I was getting sick almost weekly due to the overwork, it was really really bad honestly. I was having to work 60+ hours every week just to keep up...

The nature of the comic itself is also difficult... Each of the arcs is a complete, self contained story which can be read (ideally) without context, and my arcs need to be about 10-13 episodes each... And since I have an exact number of episodes to work with, it's even harder.

It takes a ton of planning and a ton of refinement, and working week to week with no breaks I was forced to put out second or even first drafts, so I just wasn't happy with the work I was doing... And to do that for the rest of the series? I wouldn't be proud of the work I did.

Plus... To be entirely honest, webtoon has treated me quite badly IN MY OPINION... They deprioritized me before I launched (I had to beg for more promotion, I'm not exaggerating), they outright denied me the opportunity to even ask for a raise, I don't make any money on fast pass and they pay me less than my partner makes working at trader joes. My first editor left me completely hanging, my second editor (who I loved) was fired... And they told me I wouldn't get a third season before my first season even finished. So it was just repeatedly completely demoralizing.

I'm sorry it has taken so long, it'll have been 10 months by the time I come back. But I realized... I won't get promotion either way. I won't get more episodes either way. I won't get more money either way. So to finish everything, to make it feel good, to make it something I'm proud of, I chose to take longer to make it better.

I am fully aware I will lose a significant amount of my readership for this and it might genuinely affect my career moving forward. But it's what I had to do! So I'm sticking to my guns on it, and I'm confident long term it'll be worth it. It never could have been this good if I didn't take this much time.

[goldkirk]

question: have any of you personally seen a dietician (not looking for experiences with nutritionists, only dieticians), and did you find it helpful or useful, and if you did see a dietician and you ALSO have seen a GI doctor, how did the experience compare for you in terms of helpfulness + how much you felt listened to and helped?

[adamsvanrhijn]

another day another thought about how literally all they needed to do to make the maud plotline make sense. before even making it Better. is to simply have her not go to anybody's house other than aurora's