#the solution is to give them a personality

[cutekittenlady]

Darn you all. I'm just trying to finish the next chapter of Reviving a Wreck and then not only do you guys drop this killer update to a killer fanart but when I check the replies its filled with people begging for fic.

So whatever guess ol' Cutekittenlady's gotta do the lords work and, at bare minimum, give us a start.

Remember you guys asked for this.

------------------------------------------------

Ratchet had seen a lot of things over the course of the war. A lot too much in fact. Even now that the war was over, the decepticons were (supposedly) disbanded, and the reconstruction of cybertron was well underway there were nights when his systems would struggle to shift into recharge.

It was being medic.

All the bots he'd treated who'd never come back online. All the berthsides he would stand at that would be emptied and just as quickly filled again. The number of difficult conversations he'd had to have with spark siblings, sworn brothers, Amica, and even conjunx over all that time had given Ratchet a crusty surface.

His time on Earth had, well, maybe not softened him, but certainly given him a long needed refresher into the softer things in the universe. Arcee had once half-jokingly said that the earthlings had only scrapped off the thing layer of rust that hid the soft spark underneath. Ratchet had bristled at that, but not exactly outright refuted it.

Even so his reputation as a medic, his relations with the humans on earth, and his long hard won experience of being the bearer of rough news resulted in him even now getting some... interesting calls.

Though the most interesting yet had to be this call from Earth's government to come and "check out" something they'd found in their arctic ice.

Ratchet had braced himself for another relic. Or a decayed weapon from the war. Some ancient alien asteroid. Or, primus forbid, another stint involving Unicron.

What he wasn't expecting was for a familiar face to be staring out from him from the ice.

-------------------------------------------------

Skyfire was big.

Really big.

Frighteningly big to the small humans who had come across him.

Ratchet had scolded one or two of them before he reminded himself that it was only from personal experience that he knew what a gentle giant the ancient seeker actually was. That was why it had taken him forever to get the humans to agree to thaw him out once Ratchet had detected the traces of a spark signature in his system.

It was a long and grueling process.

Thawing him out too fast would risk causing fissures and other complications in his system, but once started they couldn't stop or else what little warmth they had start would fade away.

The only blessing in regards to all of this was that it gave Ratchet a bit of time to decide what he was going to say to the big guy once he actually woke up.

It would be too much to say the two had been friends. Colleagues was more accurate. Despite being a flight frame Skyfire had a keen mind and an almost endless thirst for knowledge. He'd fought hard to get what position he could as a scientist and remained diligent to keep said position.

He and Ratchet had rubbed elbows on the occassions when Skyfires research had required a medical mind or when a particularly difficult medical situation required a potentially innovative solution.

Ratchet eventually developed a healthy respect for Skyfire, and he had returned that respect in kind.

If Skyfires desires had been kept in checked it likely would have stayed that way.

Unfortunately they weren't.

Skyfire's desire to know more about the universe eventually proved his hubris.

Ratchet had heard, after not having seen the mech for years, that after being approved for a space expedition, Skyfire had left Cybertron only to never return. The remaining expedition had apparently returned without him. Reporting he had been lost on some far unnamed planet.

Apparently the "far unnamed planet" had been Earth and Skyfire had gotten himself frozen in one of their glaciers.

Now Skyfire was laying, mostly thawed, on a slab in front of Ratchet who was watching as his life vitals slowly came online. Even as his optics began to flicker to life, Ratchet was still having a hard time trying to come up with a comprehensive way to sum up the last, oh, four million years of Civil War.

-------------------------------------------

Skyfire handled the news rather well, Ratchet thought.

At least better than most in his position would have.

After all Skyfire was only sitting with his face buried in his hands and inaudibly weeping.

Ratchet had been at least partially prepared for a bigger mental breakdown involving a greater deal of violence. Even so he remained vigilant. A delayed reaction was always possible, One never knew.

Eventually after a few moments Skyfire raised his head.

"Wait, wait." He raised a hand gently hoping for attention.

"Yes?" Ratchet asked as gently as he could.

"Please, my conjunx..."

Ratchet sucked in air and braced himself. He could already get the general outline of where this was going.

"He was with me in the crash. Is he okay?"

Over the years of Civil War Ratchet had experienced many methods of addressing such question.

False hope. Gentle redirection. Immediate and abrupt departure.

In his experience there was really only one way for a proper disciplined medic to behave.

"I-I'm sorry." He spoke softly and as comfortingly as he could. "I-I'm sorry there was no one with you in the ice."

After all perhaps there was still some hope. Many of the unaffiliated bots had fled Cybertron at the incitement the war and subsequent death of their homeworld. It was still... possible for Skyfires conjunx to be amongst them. Even if they weren't exactly here there was still some hope.

"Oh, Primus... He's just a little seeker. He doesn't cope with the cold as well as me..."

Well so much for hope. The Seekers were pretty much gone. Even if this one had landed with Skyfire on Earth chances were high they hadn't survived.

"But he's alive! He has to be! He's the smartest bravest most brilliant mech I know. I have to contact him. He must be so worried."

Ratchet let the other finish. Allowed the silence to eek in between them. It was, in his experience, best to allow the patient or family member a moment to absorb their own feelings and collect their thoughts before properly giving the inevitable bad news.

Primus how many times had he had to deliver this bad news?

Too many to count.

A conjunx was a lifelong partner. A connection not easily formed or replaced. To lose someone so important to you on top of losing four million years of your life was not something he envied Skyfire of anyone.

Finally he could put it off no more.

"I hate to be the one to tell you this Skyfire." Ratchet closed his eyes with the weight of inevitability, not able to look at the others broken face, "But a lot has changed since you left Cybertron. The seekers are all but extinct."

"No..." The anguished cry and he once more buried his face in his hands broke Ratchet a little.

This was no hardened warrior losing someone on the battlefield or as a casuality on a mission. Skyfire was still, well, more or less a civilian. This suffering was unearned and undeserved.

Evidently whoever it was who had won Skyfires spark was clearly dear to him. Ratchet hoped they had gone quietly early on in the war and not been made into a casualty of brutal conquest, or forced into being one of Shockwaves brutal experiments, or forced to serve under under that wannabe dictator Star-

"No. Starscream." Skyfire called pitifully.

Ratchet snapped the datapad in his hand in half.

"Starscream... My little bird... My sweetspark."

Ratchet nearly hurled. The idea that anyone could call Starscream, Starscream, 'little bird' and not get mauled to death was insane. Even so he collected himself sucked in air through his nose and then said, trying to keep a straight face, "Okay."

He leaned down and looked Skyfire in the face.

"Do you want the good news? Or the bad news?

tfp autobutts gain a new recruit...

[nonsensology]

Later at the wish granting ceremony, CEO Magnifico announces he’s greenlit Ice Age 6 and five more live-action remakes.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

There are so many cancelled and unrealized projects that Disney is sitting on, that they do not benefit from in any way by keeping them locked up tight. They really ought to just let them go if they don't have any intentions of doing anything with them.

Incidentally, I could never agree with the mentality of “Magnifico is actually the hero, and Asha is the TRUE villain” that a lot of people seem to have. I drew my comic based on this post. I feel like if more people had been aware of this possible interpretation, they wouldn’t have sympathized with Magnifico.

Does Wish have bad writing? Yes, it does. And it’s because of that bad writing that every single character suffers. What I think happened is that, as a result of said bad writing, Asha became a character that’s so uncompelling and lacks uniqueness that she ends up a blank slate for audiences to project their frustrations with the movie onto. King Magnifico on the other hand, is probably the most interesting and entertaining character, due in no small part to Chris Pine’s performance, and so the audience is much more sympathetic towards him and willing to ignore his flaws.

One of Asha’s problems as a character is that she doesn’t really contribute much to the story. By contrast, Magnifico’s downfall is brought about entirely as a result of his own actions. Magnifico is in fact not a good leader, because he gives in to paranoia and temptation, acts in a very unprofessional manner, and escalates the conflict to an absurd degree.

Please note, Asha does not get upset that Magnifico refuses to grant her grandfather’s wish, nor does she ever demand that Magnifico needs to grant every wish. She gets upset that he insinuates that her grandfather might have dangerous intentions, and because he does not have a convincing reason why he doesn’t return wishes that he won’t grant. Rather than calmly explaining his reasoning to her, Magnifico rudely dismisses Asha and then blows up at her.

If Magnifico were a good leader, he would have explained to each person WHY he won’t grant their wish, and given them advice on alternatives. As it stands, he knows full well that everyone expects their wish to be granted. It’s why they even came to Rosas in the first place, it is the literal reason he even built his kingdom. He clearly makes a big spectacle out of the wish granting ceremonies, which every citizen visibly goes wild for. Not to mention, he literally tells Asha, "People think wishes are just ideas. But no, no, they are a part of your heart. The very best part." He knows, for a fact, how important wishes are to everyone. But the movie's awful writing makes him think the best solution to dealing with wishes that MIGHT have dangerous consequences, is to just hoard them. All that returning the ungranted wishes will accomplish is returning the memory of what the wish even is, that's literally it, and the people will be no better off than they were before they gave Magnifico their wish.

I dunno about you guys, but whenever I watched stories that preached “be careful what you wish for”, my takeaway was never “your desires could be dangerous and you should never pursue them for fear of disaster”, I always thought the stories were telling us, “beware of anything that promises instant gratification, because it’s usually too good to be true, and will cost you more than you will gain”. While the things you want in life may have disastrous consequences, you won’t really know until you try to pursue them through your own honest efforts, and not through “magical” shortcuts. That’s how we learn and grow, through trial and error. 

As it currently stands from my point of view, when people say "Magnifico has every right to keep ungranted wishes" it looks like they're unintentionally saying, “The Disney Corporation has every right to keep your work and ideas, because you willingly and legally handed them over. Tough luck if you regret the deal you were given. No takesies backsies!”

While I have found no evidence to confirm that the filmmakers intended for Magnifico to be a criticism of Corporate Disney, considering the inclusion of the animation sweatshop scene in Pixar's Inside Out 2, I think the probability is likely. (Not to mention, when Asha shows Magnifico her little flipbook animation, he remarks “Do we consider that a talent?”)

Please note, everyone is free to rewrite and reinterpret Magnifico however they want. He's just a fictional character after all, and fan content is supposed to be for fun. I just think it's funny how defensive people get over him. They say he deserved better, and I agree, but we have very different ideas of what "better" means. In fact, I think every character in Wish deserved better, because again, they were all victims of bad writing. My problem isn't that they took a good man and made him arbitrarily "evil", it's that they didn't make him evil enough from the very beginning. Remember those deleted scenes featuring a villainous Magnifico with better writing, along with an evil Amaya that he can play off of? I'm fairly certain that everyone unanimously agreed these deleted scenes were much better than the final movie, and yet some still insist that Magnifico should have been a hero all along. I dunno, it's a funny dichotomy. 

[archangeldyke-all]

Sevika and tarotreader!reader. Reader showing up in Zaun all of a sudden. Basically taking residence in a dark corner of the last drop. Sevika may have seen them from the corner of the eye but never played much mind until rumors spread that their prediction always come true. Sevika, who may not believe in fate, is intrigued.

i love this so much hehehe

men and minors dni

technically, all magic, whether it's derived from the arcane, divination, or religion; is outlawed in piltover and zaun.

technically.

but realistically, you and every other person you know with any kind of magical gift are highly valued commodities for the wealthy families in the city.

you see, good business decisions and solutions to political struggles are rarely born out of human ingenuity. nine times out of ten, if the city of progress is making any progress at all; it's because the powerful and wealthy have double and triple checked with their various psychics, priests, and mages that whatever they have planned will be beneficial to them, too.

for a while, you made some real good money working as mrs. kirraman's personal tarot reader.

you were under the assumption that because you avoided consulting her on any political or financial matter, that your background as a zaunite wouldn't come into question when you give your (sometimes hard to hear) fortunes and advice.

but when the cards started letting you in on secrets mrs. kirraman wasn't keen on letting out ((and yes i'm talking about @micronreadzztuff22 's garnet-- an oc that's having an affair with cassanda eheh)) the woman you once admired for her ventilation systems in your home city shows you a nasty side of herself.

"mrs. kirraman... i don't mean to accuse you of anything... but the cards are asking you to be careful about any secrets you might not want getting out."

"pardon?" the woman asked, her face paling in the candlelight.

"i... i worry your husband's growing suspicious of y-your... loyalty."

"what, exactly, are you accusing me of?"

"i'm not judging you, ma'am, and i promise you all my clients have my full confidenti--"

"who put you up to this?!"

"n-nobody. it's in the cards."

"oh, i should've known better than to trust some scamming sump-rat--"

"ex-cuse me?! mrs. kirraman, i've been advising you for three years, and the cards have never led you or i astray--"

"i recommend you shut your mouth and leave the premise before i call for security." she said as she stormed out of the room.

so, that was the end of that gig. you left the premise in the strong arms of a kirraman guard, muttering about summoning janna and cursing the family and woman. of course, you aren't capable of casting curses, but you enjoyed the spooked look your empty threats got out of her as you were dragged off of her property.

it's for the best. or at least, that's what the cards tell you.

you've got a little shop set up in the undercity now, just across the street from the last drop in the heart of zaun. your busiest hours are the evenings when people stumble out of the bar, a little buzzed and needing some advice.

business is fine. you're happy to be working back at home. you just can't help but feel like you're missing something.

and then you meet sevika.

from the moment she steps into your shop, you know she's gonna be trouble for you. she's all skeptical and guarded, looking at you like she can't tell if you're crazy or scamming her. it's hilarious.

"care for a reading?" you ask.

she raises an eyebrow at you. "...so are you a psychic or...?"

you chuckle. "a tarot reader. i don't read minds, just cards."

"hm." sevika sits down at the counter. "alright, fine. how much are you chargin'?" she asks. you chuckle.

"depends how hard your question is."

"what am i doin' tomorrow night?" sevika asks. you roll your eyes and shake your head, pulling two cards. wheel of fortune and the devil. you chuckle.

"gambling?" you guess.

sevika smirks. "easy guess."

"fuck off. you got a question or what?" you ask. sevika sighs.

"what do you know about silco?"

"i told you i'm not a psychic--"

"no no--" sevika cuts you off with a laugh. "i mean, you've heard of him, right?"

"sure." you say, nodding.

"he... might be interested in hiring you as an advisor." sevika mutters. you chuckle.

"you don't sound too happy about it."

"i don't believe in psychics."

"oh, janna, this is gonna be miserable, isn't it?" you groan. sevika huffs a laugh.

it isn't until you've been working with silco for a full month that sevika starts to respect your predictions' accuracy.

it takes another month for her to start being friendly to you.

and then, by month three, sevika's one of your closest friends.

and she asks for a reading.

"you sure you trust me?" you ask with a giggle as you shuffle your deck. sevika huffs and rolls her eyes.

"i've seen the shit you predict for silco. you knew finn was gonna flip before we even knew he was upset. c'mon, give me your worst."

you chuckle a bit, then flip a card. "huh." you mumble. sevika raises an eyebrow at you.

"what?" she asks.

the lovers. you chuckle and shake your head. "you got a crush on anybody?" you ask, flipping another card as sevika sputters across the desk.

"wh-- do i-- what the fuck are you talking about?" sevika's eyes are darting around the room like she's nervous, or something, and you don't understand why she's suddenly so antsy until you look down at your cards.

the high priestess. "oh." you giggle.

sevika's eyes fly to yours and she groans. "shoulda known better than to ask the fuckin' psychic i'm crushin' on to give me a reading, huh?"

you laugh. "only if you were hoping i wouldn't find out."

"fuck. i thought you were gonna tell me to quit smoking or something."

you snort. "i can tell you that, i don't need the cards for it."

"well..." sevika grunts and flails her hands out.

"well?" you ask. she groans again.

"you gonna charge me double if i ask you another question?" she asks. you grin.

"depends what the question is."

"for fuck's sa-- will you go out with me?" sevika whines. you grin.

"i knew you were gonna be someone special to me."

"oh yeah?" sevika asks with a hesitant smile. "the cards tell you that?"

"nah. didn't need 'em to know that." you say with a shrug.

sevika grins, and your cards flutter to the ground as she darts across the table to kiss you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @greenhazes

[eggsistential-breakdown]

Team Tulpar!!!!!

Highly self indulgent silly Mouthwashing Superhero AU

Led by the esteemed Captain Cosmos, superhero conglomerate Pony Express's Team Tulpar's latest mission is to guard a top-secret mega-important warehouse in the deep recesses of space against raiders and ne'er-do-wells for one year, until Pony Express's client can install a more permanent solution.

Unfortunately, a mysterious accident destroys their only way home and grievously injures their captain. Team Tuplar finds themselves stranded on a faraway asteroid, with only battered pieces of their ship and their all-important super-forbidden warehouse charge to sustain them.

God is not watching.

Notes below the cut, not set in stone:

Pony Express

Known for its cheap and widely available distribution of superhero teams

Common option for emergency time-sensitive threats to capital or goods

Less common option for actual life-threatening emergencies

Superhero teams function pretty much just as security details for hire

Allows a little more individualization than canon Pony Express because of superhero branding

Hence the slightly personalized horseshoe logos and outfits (also for fun)

Going under because of the widespread adoption of automated comprehensive security systems

Dragonbreath's security system just broke down and they're hiring Team Tulpar to safeguard their wares until the Earth shipment of replacement and upgraded parts can arrive in one year

Curly

Gave him a bunch of powers that would be cool in space but ultimately useless against the crash

Edna Mode disapproves of capes for being impractical and dangerous so he's getting one

Debated briefly keeping Curly as his name because it's technically space related but I think it would be a bit too morbid to use as a space related superhero name in universe

Insists his team calls him Curly even on missions

Dissatisfied with his role as a glorified mall cop

Anya

Legally, spacefaring superhero teams need a healer

Legally, Anya cannot be classified as a healer

Pony Express was pretty much the only superhero company willing to take her

Still studying for med school

Her healing powers boil down to keeping you from getting worse and offloading stress on your body in hopes that it can heal you

As long as she's around things at least won't get worse :)

Which is how she's able to keep Curly alive after the incident

May or may not be using her powers to stall her own pregnancy

Definitely the glue holding everything together in canon so wanted to emphasize her importance in keeping everything from going to shit

I'm the iffiest on her superhero name ngl

She can call herself a doctor she deserves it

Tried to throw stripes in her design to reference her canon turtleneck

Daisuke

Useless ray of goddamn sunshine

Basically a very bright flashlight

If he focuses very hard he can create lasers

Can cast movies for entertainment but only as well as he can remember/imagine them

First in his family to have powers, parents pressured him to join a superhero team

Parents also got him a slightly fancier uniform hence the golden accents

Couldn't imagine him without the shirt so he's keeping the shirt

Incorporated a little Swansea yellow

Also wanted him to have a visor to be cool he gets a visor

Swansea

Assigned mentor to Daisuke

Registered his name back in college. Claims it's too much of a hassle to change it now

Keeps shields/helmet/armor? up for the entire time from when the crash happened to when Daisuke dies

He shows the most arm in canon so you bet your ass he's showing the most arm here as well

My friends suggested this name

Wanted him to still get to wield a big-ass axe

Jingleballs

Crashed the ship into the warehouse with Curly in it while Anya, Swansea, and Daisuke were double-checking the warehouse

Wearing a little half cape in part to mimic Curly, in part to try and give him a similar silhouette as his canon short sleeves

Powers pretty much just hurting people and taking from them

When strealing powers, can only use them at 20-40% of the capacity of the power's true owner

"Borrowed" Curly's powers a lot when they were younger under the pretense of Curly should experience gravity for uhh reasons

Had the phrase "there's something 'off' about this guy" when creating his name, also kind of a play on "first 'off'icer", also turning other powers off

Wears the mask and hood up when he wants to obscure his face. Usually happens outside of missions

Misc

Warehouse sits on an asteroid because it's cheap

The crash happens right after a raid, Jimmy accuses Curly of collaborating with raiders

A little less certain that no one will find them, but the crash destroys the location beacon of the warehouse and knocks the asteroid slightly off course

Team Tulpar's ship is a lot smaller, there's no cargo hold

It's also currently partially wedged inside the warehouse and stuck in place with sealing foam

Space is essentially split between the ship with food/medical supplies and the warehouse (mouthwash)

Less of a clear division of roles other than Anya as healer and Curly as leader

I like color coding characters

Had this rattling around in my head for five days please take this

[doberbutts]

Not to stray too far off the post's point but I believe- if I attempt to follow TERF logic which is already a fruitless endeavor- the idea is that they'd only like me because I'm performing what they feel is a one-sided route to pleasure with no chance of recompense, thus "for free".

Before I started T, I *did* view oral as fairly lopsided in who actually receives pleasure from the act, and while the solution I found was to take turns on who is giving vs receiving, personally the whole idea bored me and I would rather do something I actually like doing than something I didn't really care about if it was going to result in an orgasm for him regardless. Like, I want to feel good too. T changed a lot so now I have a different view, but I can at least sort of understand *that* part.

But there's also the assumption that because I'm transgender, dating gay men, that they wouldn't want anything to do with my vagina (they didn't, and I didn't want them to) and thus that would be the only way we were having sex (shocking news: gay men discover anuses exist) (shocking news: TERFs cannot imagine a world where anal sex is actually fun and enjoyable for both parties involved) and they were definitely not reciprocating by performing oral themselves (shocking news: gay men love sucking *my* cock) and so me giving oral would be the *only* type of sex we had (during a time when I wasn't having oral sex)

But then you're also asking TERFs and others who like to police the consensual sexual behavior of other people to use more than 2% of the logic centers of their brains before opening their mouths to yap, so...

I'm really tired of the trend of using one's desire (or lack of) to put their mouth anywhere as a measure of sexual orientation.

Some people don't do oral or open mouth kissing, and it doesn't mean they're incapable of attraction. It has no correlation with attraction at all. You can love someone and want to have sex with them without it including any oral activities on either side.

Y'all are fucking obsessed with trying to performatively out-queer each other, and it only hurts the whole community in the end.

Bonus unsurprising aphobia

Do better.

[supercorpkid]

The Best Kind of Trouble - part 1

Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader! Kara Danvers. Alex Danvers.

Word Count: 3645.

The other part is coming soon.

Ever since you met Lena, the two of you have had a knack for stumbling into the strangest situations together. It’s almost like the universe has a sense of humor at your expense. But every time it happens, you find yourself quietly asking: How did we get here?

Take the first time you met her. It was Alex’s birthday, and she’d dragged everyone out to a bar she swore was ‘low-key and chill’, but turned out to be neither. You exchanged a soft hey with Lena when Kara introduced you, your eyes flickering up just long enough to clock how ridiculously stunning she was before quickly looking away. She was nice, but that was it. 

And yet, by the end of the night, you found yourself sitting on her lap.

It wasn’t like you’d planned it, obviously. Everyone was too wasted to drive, and when you were all cramming into the car, someone pointed out there weren’t enough seats for everyone to sit properly. As the smallest person in the group, the solution seemed obvious to them—if not to you. Not Alex’s lap, because her girlfriend might have something to say about that. Not Kara’s, because she’d called shotgun before anyone could argue. And not Nia’s, because Brainy would enjoy less than someone splitting an atom incorrectly.

So there you were, perched awkwardly on Lena’s thighs as the car lurched into motion. Her hand rested on the edge of the seat, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her skin through your jeans. It was fine. A bit uncomfortable, sure. And definitely weird. But fine. At least until Kelly hit a pothole, and your body jolted against hers, leaving you both a little too aware of how close you actually were.

The second time you meet, it’s just you and Lena—stuck in an elevator at the DEO. The system glitches mid-maintenance, and before you can process what’s happening, the elevator groans to a stop. You and Lena exchange wide-eyed glances.

“At least we’re not free-falling,” Lena quips, though the sheen of sweat on her brow betrays her ease.

You press the emergency call button. After a pause, Alex’s voice cracks through the speaker. “What’s up?” she asks casually, like it isn’t a full-blown crisis.

“We’re stuck,” Lena steps closer to the panel, her voice calm but sharp. “Care to fix that before this turns into a sauna?”

“Oh, yeah,” Alex replies, like she just remembered. “Tech says it’s a quick fix. A few minutes, tops.”

Lena arches a skeptical brow at the speaker. “A few minutes,” she repeats, unimpressed.

“Promise,” Alex’s smirk is practically audible. “Try not to kill each other.”

The line clicks off, leaving silence. You sigh and lean against the wall. A few minutes stretch into twenty. The air thick, hot, and stifling, makes Lena shrug off her blazer, folding it neatly as she leans back against the opposite wall.

“You should lose the jacket,” she suggests casually, adjusting the collar of her blouse.

You hesitate but eventually give in. The all-black uniform feels unbearable, and you pull it off, revealing a thin, sweat-soaked white tank top beneath—and yes, you’re aware it’s completely see-through. Lena’s gaze lingers a second too long, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“What?” you ask, your voice tighter than you’d like.

“Nothing,” she murmurs, her tone softer. “You’re just really flushed. You alright?”

“Really hot circumstances, you know,” you reply quickly, and the instant the words leave your mouth, you regret them. The double meaning isn’t lost on her, and her smile deepens.

“Do tell.” Her gaze flicks back to the floor a beat too late.

Alex’s voice breaks in, unprompted. “Sorry, guys. A few more minutes. But hey, silver lining—you’ve got each other!”

Lena closes her eyes briefly, her fingers gripping the panel’s edge. “Wonderful. Thanks, Alex.”

Lena mutters, the words like a half-hearted attempt at dismissal. Her gaze lingers on you a second too long, and there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—a warmth that doesn’t quite match the cool distance she’s trying to keep.

“Anytime,” Alex chirps, clearly ignoring the sarcasm, before the line clicks dead.

Lena moves back to the wall—closer this time. Her arm brushes yours, the touch fleeting but enough to send a shiver down your spine despite the oppressive heat.

She starts a soft conversation to pass the time, but every glance she steals, every movement she makes, feels like static in the air. Her hand brushes yours again, and this time neither of you pulls away.

The air between you shifts. You meet her gaze, and Lena meets yours, her eyes darker and deeper than you’ve ever seen. For a heartbeat, it’s just her. Just the heat of her gaze.

Then the elevator jolts, snapping the moment like a rubber band. Lena straightens her blouse, retrieves her blazer, and slips back into her usual composure like armor.

“Well,” her lips curl into a faint smile, “let’s not make a habit of only meeting in these weird situations.”

You nod, following her out into the cool hallway, but the memory of her gaze lingers—along with the heat that has nothing to do with the elevator.

And then, it does become a habit.

There’s the storm during a game night at Kara’s apartment. The power goes out, and everyone splits up to search for flashlights. Somehow, you and Lena end up fumbling in the same closet, searching for batteries. It’s pitch black, the kind of darkness that muffles everything, even the sound of your own breath.

Your hands brush—once, then again—and you freeze. The silence between you feels deafening, and just as your breath catches, Lena breaks it with a low, teasing murmur. “Should I be worried you keep trying to hold my hand?”

It’s playful. Too playful. But the words hang in the air like an open challenge, and you can’t quite laugh the way you want to. Instead, your breath stops, and that awkward sound you make isn’t nearly enough to push the tension away.

It only makes it worse. You can feel the charge between you, an electric hum that shivers down your spine. It wraps around your chest, your pulse racing with it. Then, just as the moment is about to consume you, the lights flicker back on. The sudden brightness stings your eyes, and it’s like the world has slapped you back into reality.

You blink, disoriented, standing there in the small closet, the air between you still heavy and thick. Too close. You’re too close.

“Look at us,” Lena whispers, breath hot on your face. “Stuck together somewhere small and hot.” Her words roll out slowly, like she’s savoring them. “It agrees with you.”

The words settle on your skin like a flame, and your throat goes dry, your chest tight. You stay frozen in place, unable to form the words that might undo whatever she just implied. She steps out of the closet, leaving you standing there, the heat of her words still burning into your skin.

Small and hot. Was she talking about you?

Of course, you’re roped into helping Nia move into Brainy’s new place. The apartment is a disaster zone—boxes everywhere, and Brainy’s color-coded system only makes things worse. The real issue? The couch. An L-shaped monstrosity that refuses to budge no matter what you do.

Alex is running late, Kara has a Supergirl emergency, and Brainy has to leave too. So now it’s a five-person job being executed by you.

Just as you’re about to lose your mind, Lena breezes in, taking in the chaos. “What on Earth are you doing?”

“Fighting for my life,” you say, sweat dripping.

She steps closer, looking annoyingly perfect in her blouse and jeans. “It looks like you’re losing.”

“Glad you could join us. Came to judge, or help?”

“You know I love watching people fail,” Lena smirks, crouching by the couch. “Have you tried taking the legs off?”

“The legs?” You narrow your eyes. “That’s your solution?”

“It’s called problem-solving,” she says, inspecting the bolts with an infuriatingly calm precision. “You should try it sometime.”

You grab the screwdriver. “Fine. Let’s see if your genius plan works.”

It works. Because Lena is a genius. An annoyingly pretty, rich, flirty genius. But it works at the expense of her being so close to you, you can’t think straight—pun intended. Her perfume is maddeningly pleasant, and her eyes are provocatively distracting. It works at the expense of your sanity.

“You’re blushing,” she teases.

“No, I’m sweating,” you snap, looking away.

When the move is over, Alex strolls in with a six-pack, pretending she didn’t miss all the hard work. You're annoyed, but then Lena leans in beside you, her shoulder brushing yours. “We work well together, don’t you think?”

And somehow, you’re not mad anymore.

Once again, you're dragged into something you have no business being a part of. Kara needed help with a DEO tech project, and as you step into the lab, it hits you—you’re the only uniformed officer here. The other two? Alex and Lena. Of course.

“Kara? Why am I here?” you ask, already suspicious.

“We need the brightest minds for this!” Kara beams.

You arch an eyebrow. “Yeah? Then why am I here?”

Lena chuckles softly, her gaze sweeping over you with a hint of mischief. “Come on, Y/N. You’re smarter than you think.”

It takes you a second to process the unexpected compliment. You snort, trying to play it off. “If you say so.”

Before you can protest further, Alex’s phone buzzes, and her face shifts into full-on mission mode. “Crisis. Gotta go.”

“Wait, you’re leaving us?” Unbelievable. Somehow, you’re always the one stuck with Lena. And, annoyingly, it secretly thrills you.

“We trust you two,” Kara says with a reassuring pat on your arm before she and Alex rush out the door.

Lena shrugs, her smirk firmly in place. “Looks like it’s just us.”

Great. Just you, Lena, and whatever tension has been simmering between you lately. You try to focus on the device in front of you—some kind of world-saving gadget Kara swore needed attention—but it’s nearly impossible with Lena standing so close.

“Fantastic,” you mutter under your breath. “Just me and the world-saving gadget.”

Lena leans in, her shoulder brushing yours ever so slightly, her voice dropping to a maddeningly low pitch. “You’ve got a brilliant mind, and I’m a genius. We’re good together.”

The double meaning in her words isn’t lost on you. Your throat tightens, your pulse kicking up. You grin despite yourself, hoping to keep things light. “Flattery? Is that how you survive the workday?”

Her smile lingers, warmer this time. “Maybe. But I mean it.”

The air between you shifts—heavier now, charged. Every glance, every brush of her hand sends your focus spinning. And then, as if the universe wants to make things even more difficult, Lena stretches, her shirt lifting just enough to reveal a sliver of a tattoo. Your mouth goes dry.

“Everything okay?” she asks, turning her head just enough to catch you staring.

You force a laugh, trying to sound normal. “Yeah. Totally fine.”

Her eyes narrow, amusement dancing in their depths. “Are you sure? You’re looking a little… flushed.”

You should’ve seen it coming—the teasing, the way her words seem to coil around you, the brush of her fingers against your arm. You should’ve expected it, but you’re thrown every time.

“Hot,” you blurt out, feeling like an idiot. “The room. It’s just... so hot.”

She leans in, impossibly close now, her breath brushing against your skin as she whispers, “You do tend to run hot a lot, don’t you?”

Your brain short-circuits. The world narrows to just her—the warmth of her proximity, the scent of her perfume, the way her voice feels like it’s wrapping around your chest and pulling tight. You can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move.

When you don’t respond, she pulls back with a soft exhale, her gaze lingering. “Maybe we should take a break,” she suggests, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You nod too quickly, practically bolting for the air vent. Sitting on the floor directly beneath it, you try to calm your racing heart. But of course, Lena follows, settling beside you—close enough to make you question if she’s doing it on purpose.

“You look tired,” she says after a beat.

“I’m fine,” you lie, closing your eyes like that might drown out the scent of her perfume or the way she’s completely invaded your space. “Just need a minute.”

And somehow, the next thing you know, you’re waking up with your cheek pressed to her shoulder. Her scent is intoxicating, her warmth like a trap you don’t want to escape. Your heart stutters as you jerk away. “Oh my God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Relax, darling.” Her smirk is maddening, her tone teasing but impossibly soft. “I told you—you were tired.”

Your face burns. “Yeah, but I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine.” Her grin doesn’t falter, her eyes dancing with something that makes your stomach flip. “I didn’t mind.”

Before you can say anything else, Kara and Alex return, their voices pulling you back to reality. You scramble to your feet, putting as much space as possible between you and Lena. But as the lab hums back to life, her warmth lingers on your skin, and her knowing smile burns in your mind, refusing to fade.

Then again you’ve somehow ended up in the thick of feelings you can't even comprehend.

“Director Danvers?” You press the comm into your ear, the usual buzz of activity humming in the background. “I’m in position for the lookout.” You scan the area once more, making sure no one’s watching. “And it seems I’m the only one here.”

“Great. Supergirl’s on her way with backup,” comes Alex’s voice over the comm, calm but urgent. “Just sit tight and take pictures if you see someone entering the place. We need proof this is a Cadmus lair.”

“Copy that. I’ll stay put.”

The place they’ve stationed you at is… unexpected. You thought secret lairs were supposed to be hidden, not right on the water like some kind of expensive real estate. The view is gorgeous—wide, endless blue stretching out to meet the horizon, the water sparkling in the late afternoon light. It almost feels too peaceful for the task at hand.

Minutes later, you hear the faint sound of a familiar whoosh, and Supergirl lands beside you, Lena tucked gently in her arms. As she sets Lena down, Kara gives you a brief smile. “Okay, I’ll leave you two here for a minute. I’ll be back to pick you up before we break in. Lena, use the watch if you need me.”

Lena gives her a small nod, her eyes lingering on Kara for just a moment before she turns to you. “We’ll keep a lookout, boss.” She tries to be casual, but there's an edge of uncertainty in her voice.

Kara winks before she takes off, leaving you alone with Lena. You know it’s time to talk. You’ve been avoiding her—after that last time you saw her, when you fell asleep on her shoulder, things have been weirder. But now, standing next to her, so close, you can’t keep pretending like it doesn’t matter. You have to break the silence.

“Hey,” you say, your voice is a little softer than you meant. She glances at you, her expression unreadable for a beat before she offers you a tight smile.

Lena takes a seat next to you, her gaze shifting toward the lair. “Looks like something my mother would do,” she says, voice steady but with a hint of something else you can’t quite place. “Have a secret lair in plain sight. With a view like that.”

She gestures toward the building, but it’s clear her attention is more on you than the lair. You catch her glance, and for a moment, you’re not sure if it’s just the light or if her eyes are a little softer than usual.

“It is gorgeous,” you agree, your voice barely above a whisper. You’re not sure if you’re still talking about the view. It’s hard to focus on anything else with her so close—so close that you can feel the warmth from her body.

Lena shifts a little, and her leg brushes against yours. The contact is light, but it makes your heart stutter. She doesn’t pull away. Neither do you.

The two of you stay silent for a beat, the tension hanging in the air like a storm ready to break. You wonder if she feels it too—the quiet, invisible thread between you. Her hand, resting casually on the edge of the bench, inches closer to yours. You’re acutely aware of the soft sound of her breath, the way her shoulder brushes yours when she shifts.

For a moment, it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and everything else—the lair, the mission—fades into the background. It’s just Lena, and you, and the air between you that’s thick with unspoken words.

And then you realize—you’ve been holding your breath.

You blink, coming out of your dream-like state, and press the comm in your ear. "Director, we're about to lose daylight soon." You glance at the sky, watching the soft pink hues spread across the horizon. "Should we move?"

“No, stay put. Supergirl’s following Lillian’s car as we speak. She might be approaching the lair.”

“Copy that.” You bite your lip, still feeling the weight of the moment, and glance back at Lena. “You’re okay? With... all of this? The whole situation with your mom?”

“Oh, yeah. I know what the Luthors are capable of,” she says with a quiet resolve. Her eyes stay fixed on the lair, but you catch the flicker of something deeper behind her words. “I’m just glad we’re here to help.”

You nod, agreeing with her sentiment, but there's something unspoken hanging in the air between you two.

“The sun’s setting soon,” you say, fidgeting with the small flashlight in your hand. “I have this, but I don’t think we can use it without giving away our position.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lena replies, her voice light, trying to brush off the tension. “I’m not scared of the dark. Unless… you are.”

You raise an eyebrow, giving her a playful side-eye. “Please. I’m an agent of a secret organization. There are very few things I’m scared of.”

Lena leans in, her gaze intense yet teasing, and her lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Oh? Do tell.” she whispers, as if the question is more of an invitation than anything else.

Her proximity makes your heart skip a beat. The warm air between you feels electric, charged with an unspoken challenge. For a moment, you forget about the mission, your mind drifting away, caught in the rhythm of her words, the softness of her breath.

You almost want to tell her that you are scared—scared of this, right here. Scared of how close you’ve gotten, of how something so small—a glance, a smile, a shared silence—feels like it’s pulling you in, deeper and deeper. Scared of where it might lead, or worse, scared that it might not lead anywhere at all.

The words hang in your throat, heavy and unspoken.

Instead, you shrug, your smile a little too soft as you watch her, feeling the warmth in your chest. “You know, there are just some things even secret agents can’t prepare for. Like... how distracting a pretty face can be.”

Lena studies you, her gaze softening as she leans in just a little, her eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes. She’s so close now, and the air between you is thick with something unspoken, charged with a tension that feels almost electric. Your heart races and everything else fades away.

Then, just as you think she’s about to close the gap, her lips brush against yours—the softest, most fleeting contact. It sends a jolt through you, a rush of warmth that leaves you breathless, like time itself has stilled for a heartbeat.

But before you can even fully process it, Supergirl’s voice crackles through the comm, “Guys, she took a detour. I think you’re in the wrong place.”

The sudden interruption shatters the moment, and you both pull back quickly, your breath shaky, your pulse still thrumming in your ears. Lena’s gaze flits away from you, disappointment settling heavily in the air, though neither of you says a word.

“What should we do?” you ask into the comm, trying to steady your voice.

“I'll follow through. We have more agents here. You two head back to the DEO. We’ll see you soon.”

You glance back at Lena, a flicker of disappointment in your eyes. “Back to business as usual, then?”

Lena meets your gaze, her expression soft and sincere, but there’s a wistful edge to her voice. “I hope not.”

The flirtation between you two, once subtle, quickly intensifies. The soft touches, the lingering glances, evolve into something raw—unspoken, but palpable. It feels magnetic, inevitable, like you're helplessly swept into something you can’t escape. You can't not flirt back, can't not lean into the charged moments between you.

There’s something heady in the way she looks at you, in the tension you both refuse to acknowledge. It’s like standing on the edge of something deeper, something that makes your heart race and your thoughts scatter. You can’t name it, but it’s undeniable, humming in the silence. The air around you crackles, thick with something everyone else seems to notice, too.

And that’s why you keep ending up in situations like this. Over and over, like you’re addicted to the chaos of it all. To the way she pulls you into these intoxicating, strange moments. And now, you're left wondering if it’s the situation you crave—or just her.

Whatever it is, you need more of it.

[maxdibert]

Hello!! I love your blog so much, super enjoyed your Snape analyses 🫶

If I may ask, what is your opinion of the notion of "Snape didn't love Lily enough to give up dark arts for her"?. It's something I see a lot when people take badly about Snape, and especially, with JKR (👎) having said that Lily would've loved if he wasn't so enamored with dark magic.

Thank you very much! 😊🫶

I find this utterly ridiculous. I don’t understand all that nonsense about “dark arts are horrible.” So many things in the lore require dark arts, many solutions come from dark arts, and, in general, dark arts are necessary in that society. Sure, maybe in the context of the ’70s generation, dark arts were seen as a red flag, but Lily literally downplays the bullying Severus suffered just because “at least the Marauders don’t use dark arts.” Like, what kind of argument is that? Does abuse hurt less depending on the weapon used? Is it less of an issue if I shoot you rather than stab you? Honestly…

Look, no one should have to change who they are or what they like to be loved—that’s utter nonsense. You don’t have to change for anyone; love doesn’t work like that. Obviously, there are limits—if you’re an alcoholic, for example, then yes, it’d be good to go to rehab. I’m not talking about extremes like that. But when it comes to personality, no one can demand that you change. No one has the right to tell you how you should be or think and then reproach you by saying, “if you don’t change, it means you don’t love me enough.” That’s trash—it’s control, it’s trying to mold someone into your image, and that’s not how it works. Either you like someone for who they are, or you don’t. But this “oh, if only they were this way, maybe…” Well, then you don’t like that person; you like a completely different type of person—and that’s fine, but let’s not make excuses.

“If Severus hadn’t liked dark arts, maybe Lily would have loved him.” Okay, well then, there was no way Lily would’ve ever loved him because Severus is who he is precisely because he liked dark arts. He liked them before he got involved with future Death Eaters, he liked them when he allied with Voldemort, and—most importantly—he still liked them after leaving Voldemort. It’s part of his personality and identity, regardless of his life stage or what side he’s on. A Severus who didn’t like dark arts wouldn’t be Severus; he’d be someone else entirely.

The issue with how love is often perceived stems from this toxic, traditional ideal of romantic love that we’ve been conditioned to accept. It establishes patterns of behavior that involve losing or giving up our individuality for the sake of our partner, and that’s not how it works. If Lily didn’t like the dark arts, then she and Severus were never going to have a future. He can’t demand or expect her to tolerate something she despises, and she equally doesn’t have the right to expect him to give up something that’s important to him. Similarly, Severus didn’t need to stop being himself to win over Lily—he needed to find someone who didn’t care about his interests or who was compatible with them.

Love isn’t about giving things up; it’s about finding someone who is compatible with what you bring to the table—whether because they have no issue with it, share those interests, or have their own qualities that balance yours. That’s it.

If you have to change or mold your personality for someone else, then what you have isn’t love—it’s a farce.

[deborahdeshoftim5779]

So the anti-Zionist Jews are discovering that the rhetoric they believe simply isn't true. Their so-called "friends" and "allies" are suspicious, resentful of, and aggressive towards any Jew they can find, even if that Jew professes the same beliefs.

Sound familiar?

It's not much different from what happened to Communist Jews in the Soviet Union, is it? They parrotted all the rhetoric, condemned Zionism, warned against non-existent Jewish plots against the Soviet Union, insisted that antisemitism wasn't a problem... And the Soviets still persecuted the Jews anyway.

For the avoidance of doubt, anti-Zionism is an ideology that denies the Jews-- and only the Jews-- the right to national self-determination. Meanwhile, the same anti-Zionists that ignore over three thousand years of Jewish indigeneity in Israel insist that the Palestinian Arabs be allowed not just a state, but a state that entirely erases any Jewish one. The key for the anti-Zionist is that there can't be any Jewish country, ever, no matter how tiny it is. No matter how many land concessions Israel makes to the Palestinians. No matter how many Israelis agree to a two-state solution. As far as the anti-Zionist is concerned, Jews not only cannot have a country: it is morally wrong for them to have a country. At the same time, giving the Palestinian Arabs a country is a moral imperative.

At this point, the anti-Zionist will protest and say that his opposition to Jewish statehood is based on the displacement and expulsion of Arabs between 1947 to 1949, and his belief that the original Balfour Declaration was an injustice against the Arabs.

Let's just take those statements at face value for the moment. This is the only time and the only case where anti-Zionists apply such a standard. Jordan was created via partition. Syria's formation experienced many of the same difficulties as that of Israel. The partition of India and Pakistan lead to far more war crimes than between the Jews and the Arabs in the 1940s.

Yet the anti-Zionist has never argued that the foundations of those nations, being based on violence, have rendered their right to nationhood obsolete. Never.

It's only the Jews who are held to a standard whereby if they have wronged any other group, they forfeit their right to national self-determination-- and it was never even right to suggest Jewish national self-determination in the first place.

Given all of this information, the anti-Zionist Jew will have to think carefully about why his movement only targets Jewish nationhood. His own personal opinion about Israel is irrelevant. The fact that he thinks Israel is a brutal state that oppresses the Palestinians does not answer the question of why anti-Zionism is based on the denial of nationhood to the Jews alone, ostensibly based on circumstances that have affected the founding of several other nations including Israel's nearest neighbours. The anti-Zionist has never argued that China is an illegitimate state owing to its brutality towards ethnic and religious minorities, nor that many Arab nations are likewise illegitimate, owing to the far greater death tolls incurred by their internecine strife.

Why only the Jews?

Until the anti-Zionist Jew addresses this issue, then he will continue to be astonished that all of his protestations of loyalty to the cause make no difference to his so-called "allies".

Antizionist jews complaining that their friends are treating them like they're zionist jews are so close to getting that in the antisemite's eyes, we're all just Jews. And it also screams of selfishness that the only time you recognize antisemitism as closely linked to (and imo inherently the same as) antizionism is when it personally affects you.

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

anyway obviously ppl should act in good faith and not purposely make racist stereotypes of poc characters but i think a world where every poc character is under constant surveillance by an audience waiting to nitpick for evidence that the author is Secretly Racist, is a world where poc characters are not allowed to be interesting or compelling.

[storge]

Story of Kunning Palace (2023)

[spotaus]

Hi guys, this is usually what a doodle page ends up looking like <3 (oh, and @ancha-aus thought you might like this! Not writing but certainly fuel to my fire lol-)

This one is New Age filled!!! (Close-ups abd Lore beneath the cut!)

1) Night and Cross!

Night is actually very clingy once he's a teen. He doesn't usually realize it, but around the castle he'll snake to be closer to his Knights so long as there's no one he needs to keep his composure infront of is nearby. Cross is the one who's not used to physical touch (when it's not Ink ofc) so Night in his personal bubble makes his heart melt but also scares tf out of him <3

2) Error and Night's Meeting!

Error was carrying his whole life on his back and trying not to get arrested for unintentional property damage at this point, so when he saw the chance to get back at his brother and prove he was strong enough? Yeah, he got that on chance instantly. And was VERY smug when Nightmare chose him. (Also, Error is wearing gloves, so less Haphephobia)

3) Dream and Blue designs!

I think these are good tentative designs! Dream probably has a more regal fit, but he likes to play up that rugged exile look- He's inspired by Archers, while Blue takes on that classic Knightly-vibe. Their equipment is mostly stolen from Night's troops or brought with them from Blue's home kingdom.

Also, Dream is approx Killer's height at this point, shorter than Cross and *much* shorter than Apple!Nightmare. (Hc that Skeletons tend to be tinier in stature thanks to weird monster beauty standards. Horror and Geno's fam are outliers.)

4) Horror and Dust designs!

Horror is naturally a very *large* monster. He's very malnourished when Nightmare meets him, but by the time he's a Knight Nightmare has made sure that's no longer the case. He actually loves comfy, simple clothes, but to play up the whole 'strong mysterious' bit he wears a more barbaric Knight's garb. He doesn't mind acting scary, it's more fun that way :]. Dust is very very small, and envies horror sometimes for his size, but his tiny stature let's him control his body and move a lot quicker. He's very much based on a rogue, and usually covers the lower part of his face w/ a black cloth, and the upper part w/ his hood or mask. Dust only removes both to bathe, eat, or relax in a safe location. (Ignore that I can't draw the stupid gaster blaster lmao-)

These last two were space-fillers, but Cross and his Borzoi (Windmill, otherwise known as Milly (Killer named her-)) and really bad first wips of Ccino! I think Ccino was a chubby, happy toddler, but lost a lot of 'weight' (bone mass? Magic?) due to stress and pressure and bad eating habits. So it isn't until a while after the Coronation that he starts to relax abd feel safe enough to eat normal meals (Nightmare used to guilt him into eating snacks together, but as his boss (and younger brother) he can encourage it more often). By the time Killer shows he's still not quite healthy, but he's better. As more weight is lifted off his shoulders, the better he is. (That 'beauty' most people saw was a more stereotypical slimness, but Killer never stopped seeing Ccino as beautiful-) I think he never looked traditionally underweight, so no one noticed, and it was only much later that Night processed it. (And maybe it's why Dream hardly recognized him later on-)

[yagamiraaky]

OK but you have to keep in mind that Minecraft has been around for a loong time, and even if it was indie when it was developed, it was quickly picked up by a big company (microsoft) that would just throw money at it. It's team is somewhat big, it is incentivized to come up with new content at least once a year.

I just looked into vintage story, and the game was released in 2016 by a Latvian team of 8 people. It doesn't have the resources to keep pumping new content in the game to make it bigger.

I remember when Minecraft was in beta, and even when it released, and it had like 4 biomes... And if it never got the resources it did, it probably would never be past the like 6 biomes and the basic mobs. Go play the first versions of bedrock Minecraft and tell me you don't get bored after a week of playing.

Also, age has a big influence in this. When you are young you can feel entertained hours on end with very little, but as you grow up and start relating to things and understanding the world around you better, and yourself as a person, you start wanting specific things from things, that you didn't previously. Which is what I think is happening to you. So the solution I would say is keeping with what you know you like, or continue searching until something clicks, but keeping an open mind and maybe search out of your comfort zone. Try platformers, action games, rpgs, rogue-likes, and you will maybe find something that intersects your interests.

I'll give you my example: I love pokemon, and have been playing since it came out, when I was 6 years old. But I hate it's genre of games, which are turn based rpgs. Every other turn based rpg I've tried I felt was too slow for me and I hate how much I have to strategize to play them. I just want a good story and to melt through the enemies, maybe have difficult battles, but that aren't dependent on me having to play 5d chess to do them. So I found out, quite recently, that although I love pokemon, my favourite genre of games is actually action rpgs. I still play every single main line pokemon game that comes out, but I don't play turn based rpgs beyond that. I can't stand them. Also platformers are not for me. I grew up playing Mario, but they are really not something that I love playing.

So, again, I suggest you trying something different, and find the genre that you really like. Also, you could look into walkthroughs and gameplay videos to see if you'd like something before playing it. But don't feel too stuck on the "right way to play the game". The right way is the way you enjoy it.

i am now bored of vintage story.

i used to get absorbed in games so easily and i played nothing but minecraft for legit 5 years so this era of picking up new games and getting bored of them quickly is disconcerting to say the least

[dykedvonte]

I think the most baffling thing about the Tulpar as a vessel to me is the fact that the ship really did only have a one way communication system.

I know it was cheap but even the most basic of vessels regarding major transport would have some way, shape or form for outside communication. Not only that but there was absolutely no form of innate emergency signal to show they may have been offline or in trouble despite clearly having a system to dock credits if they went off course. It's another factor that really shows that bad situations are made to get worse by design. One person who is required to relay all information to the crew and make all the choices without feedback. No way to update or call for help in case of a dire situation. No way to inform of inner personal conflicts and acquire procedures accordingly.

It really is like they are all in some sort of fucked up solitary confinement. They have their own world with strict roles that are meaningless in the end, as long as the cargo makes it, it doesn't matter what happens on that ship to the company. They don't want to hear anything and will come to conclusions on what happened based on how much pay they can withhold from the workers. Even what they do send is short, sterile and corporate to the extent it was likely written and sent out with a command by some random unmanned computer in an office.

There's something to be said about how unfair it is to force absolute power and control onto one person when you as an entity could do so much more to offload it but I've said it many times before so I won't again.

[ducktracy]

time for another “THANK YOU I LOVE YOU” message: THANK YOU I LOVE YOU!!! i’ve been struggling with some severe burnout in all facets of my life as a result of being too stubborn and prideful to recognize said burnout and so i’ve had a hard few weeks with just that + tumultuous personal life stuff + blah blah blah, and wanted to say THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT! i’m giving a little rest from reviews and art (moreso the former) since i was really forcing myself to make ends meet and turning it into a chore and so i’m just kind of forcing myself to stop and rest and be a person. which is excruciatingly hard for a GO GO GO person like me so i just wanted to say thank you for your patience and understanding with that! and thank you for your support!!! i haven’t had the emotional bandwidth to answer asks or DMs lately but i promise i see them and am seriously grateful for everyone who has sent one in, i really want to share the love and get back on my feet and be more active and open and talkative since I LOVE INTERACTING WITH YOU GUYS!! so i just wanted to say thank you for your patience and support in spite of all that. i’m usually my worst enemy in terms of putting the most pressure under myself and buckling under it as a result, i know realistically nobody is sharpening their harpoon gun because i didn’t touch a review for a week. but i wanted to put out a message as a bit of peace of mind regardless 🙏 thank you for your support in any capacity and know that i am extremely grateful for it beyond words!

[venacoeurva]

...I know people in this day and age think any collaborative effort can fix things, often despite reality (ex. the MULTIPLE tumblr blackout protests over the last like 10 years across different owners of tumblr that didn’t change shit),

but I think going out of your way to buy things from tumblr en masse as a “well then they’ll be profitable and won’t have to change things to resemble profitable sites!” as if the CEO/higher ups are personally going to see this and not AT MOST just go “oh we made money, sick, Anyway.” is just. the most naive and frankly 5-year-old level of problem solving unrealistic idea if you think about it for more than 5 seconds. People are just so blinded by naive optimism it’s painful.

Staff isn’t going to see your purchases and go on a full redemption arc and restore porn in spite of payment systems’ massive stigma against it or Apple’s restrictions and never ever try to mimic Twitter or TikTok again, or whatever the fuck you’re expecting, they’ll keep focusing on shit tweaks that resemble other sites because those are what keep investors who think they know tech and user wants hooked and they think new people from other sites will come over for that instead of the fact these people are typically escaping those kinds of features.

Staff isn’t your friend, their vying for support like they’re your buddy who is hitting hard times and has been here holding your hand all these years is deliberate corporate marketing, they’re an arm of a corporation that spits in the face of LGBTQ+ people and especially black people for daring to post about themselves while touting themselves as The Queer Site! A diverse site! Look at this AMA we’re doing with someone about Black History Month! and you’re doing nobody a service when you’re unintentionally rewarding a service for getting worse because they will not know nor care about your motives, they just care that they got money and will continue making it worse regardless of you. They’re a corporation, not a small business ran by 10 people who are trying their best. People throwing money at Staff already encourages them, let alone when you buy into the weird parasocial shit they try with us which will continue as they see success with that method.

Like the mere idea of everyone buying the crabs to gift to make the site profitable is just unrealistic (especially in this economy with such terrible inflation and in NA there are issues with the weather and fires, on a site that mostly consists of groups of people who are typically low income or unable to work???), it feels very much like the gofundme pages people set up to raise money for celebrities who have debts who will be fine regardless and definitely don’t need your help. Corporations and CEOs are not your friends, they never will be. They do not care about you and they’re not some poor uwu victim of circumstance.

TL;DR half-assed blackouts aimed at companies that don’t care (that I have seen over and over) and “cr*b day” type efforts are incredibly dumb and will change nothing, and they will not change anything, just encourage them since they see they’re making money during their current marketing schemes, if they notice at all. You pitying them like they’re a poor innocent person is exactly what the corporation wants.

If you want to make a difference give that money to an artist or lgbtq+ people who basically get flagged as mature for Existing, or people who get their posts flagged for criticizing the site, or something, someone who gets screwed over by this site on the regular. It will do far more good than that whackadoo type pipe dream and sit down and think for a second, please.

[she-ra-ra-skirt]

I've been looking into men's role in society and I can see where so much frustration comes from.

One man (his term) said that he's expected to be a provider but jobs aren't available anymore, so what's he supposed to do? He said that he's turned to to do manual things like war and manufacturing but left out of the conversation the rest of the time.

He pointed out, indirectly, that men are expected to provide and ignore their own emotional needs and leave that to the women who run the home, raise the family and take care of their husbands.

I could see exactly what he meant but then he took it a step further, to the people he 'blames' for these issues and that's where our points of view massively diverged.

But he had very valid points and I understood that we're all struggling and a very good start is to give men the room to express their feelings and worries and hurts, as it's something that can be easily provided without a major change to society. I personally think it would stop a lot of young men from being radicalised as they search for a community and someone who understands them.

I always find it frustrating when a woman turns the point of the conversation to how women are affected. The point is, for this article particularly, that men need emotional support and it's not on women to provide it. And finding a workable solution is the focus.

"The major question for Evryman that remains unanswered was, as Heidi [Siek] put it, “Do you see us? Do you see that we are struggling in your world? Do you see that the whole world is organized in a particular system? We’re not sure that you see that it’s not organized for us. And it’s really hard. Everything feels really hard. Everything from how do we get up the [professional] ladder to what do we wear to how do we date. It’s fucking exhausting. And we’re doing a ton of emotional labor. Do you see the struggle? Can you have compassion for the struggle over here? We need help. Not in a damsel-in-distress way...

Now there's an example of someone almost having a catastrophic moment of self-awareness and swatting it away as hard as possible.

One thing that it took me a long time to realize is that people who say they want to dismantle the Patriarchy often still have extremely ambivalent attitudes towards Patriarchal structures.

One of the underlying tensions in this article, something that underlies Siek's ambivalence to this group as well as that of the author, Benjy Hansen-Bundy is...

Okay, on a very deep level both of them believe that men are doers. That's not strong enough. They think men are soldiers. Men have an obligation to do, and to protect. Especially to protect women from other, worse men (But not, of course, in a damsel in distress way).

And they both genuinely struggle with the idea that helping Men to achieve emotional satisfaction, calm and happiness might be an end in itself, rather than as a means to make men better soldiers in the war on Patriarchy.

Here's Hansen-Bundy

Unsurprisingly, a number of the men in my group pointed to #MeToo as being one of the catalysts for them to join. In a moment of collective soul-searching, some men hunkered down into foxholes, refusing to acknowledge a structural problem, others rededicated themselves to allyship, still others acknowledged that they had some real work to do before they could become effective allies and so set about the process of increasing their emotional intelligence.

I mean, if you took a gun and blew your head off think how much emotional labor you'd be offloading onto your wife.

Despite the fact that the two people I've quoted read feminist theory and hate the Patriarchy and everything they have a tremendous amount of difficulty with the idea of saying "This helps men not to die of stress." and then just stopping. The idea of stopping there disturbs them. Men are doers. Men are soldiers. We can justify caring about their feelings because that makes them better soldiers.

If this program isn't making them better soldiers, is there any point to it at all?

You can't fight the Patriarchy while simultaneously reifying all of it's deeper assumptions.

PS - I think I've said this before but I can't get attached to the question of whether the left has gone "too far" when it seems to me that large chunks of it don't go nearly far enough.