#there's thousands more but you get the gist

[a-soft-fluffy-girl]

TL;DR: Steam just made library sharing so much fucking easier and so much fucking better. Instead of login-trading, it's just a simple goddamn invite.

Read this. Really. It's a good read. Because it shows that, full-stop, Valve isn't just doubling down on their stance to make sure that people can and should be able to share their copies of digital goods as easily as they can physical ones, but they're making it better and easier than ever.

But you know how Steam allowed you to, with either friends or family, link accounts with another person to be able to establish an ability to share game libraries with one another? The general gist of Steam Family Sharing was that, with a limit of five people plus you (six in total) on a limit of ten computers total could share account access to willingly mix your libraries. You could play theirs. They could play yours.

This was a huge boon. It was meant to emulate sharing a physical copy of a game. A way to allow children to play games their parents or siblings had bought without having to fork over double the cash to buy it a second game. But it had some major limitations and drawbacks, and was archaic to use.

If a person did not share the same computer, you had to manually log into that computer to give it and the accounts on it access. This wouldn't be a problem if both accounts were used on the same computer, but many households (and astronomically more family and friend groups) had multiple computers, all used by different people.

If that computer, at any point, was hard reset to any point before the sharing occurred, you lost access. And had to do the whole process again. This was also an issue with computer transfers. The whole kit and kaboodle needed to be redone on upgrades. On top of that, the old computer is now just dead weight that you may not realize you have to manually revoke access to.

Putting your account information on another person's computer opens up security issues. They could, intentionally or accidentally, land themselves on your account if the login information was stored. Which could easily lead to purchases or bans you did not want to happen.

If anyone was, at any point, playing any game on their own library, you had no access to their games. Even if it was a totally different game, you had to wait your turn as if waiting for their computer to be freed up to sit at. (Admittedly this is kind of like the "mom said it's my turn on the xbox" meme, but hey, kinda archaic.)

You could not choose whose library you accessed a game from. Not at all. It always prioritized the first library it gained access from, DLC access and multiplayer be damned. If another friend you were accepting games from had more DLC? Too bad.

And yet here we are. Steam Families Beta fixes EVERYTHING about the above issues. By just going through Settings > Interface > client Beta Participation and clicking onto Steam Families Beta? You get:

No more login sharing. No more computer links. You can now choose which person's library you borrowed from. And you can play any other game from someone's library, even while they're in-game. It just needs to be a different game than what they're playing.

Pick five people. Invite them to your family. And now everyone has access to everyone's library. My goddamn library went from 150-ish to almost a goddamn thousand in ten minutes of setup.

Account sharing and password sharing are dirty words that "lose" billions of dollars. Netflix, Hulu, Amazon, Max. They aren't game storefronts, but they still allow you to access massive libraries and scream like you murdered their firstborns for daring to share your password with your mother after you moved out.

Microsoft tried pushing to demonize and undercut used games sales and borrowed copies of physical games. Remember the first attempt to reveal the Xbox One? People forget, but these vultures tried to make an always online console that checked to see if you were the account that owned the game, even if you had a physical disc, and prevent access to the disc's contents if you weren't the original downloader.

Valve walked the fuck up. Valve tapped the mic. And Valve dropped the fucking thing right onto the ground with one feature's revamp.

About the only issues I can see with this are twofold:

If someone sharing your library gets banned from a game's servers... so do you. No one else in the family does, but the both of you do. This is... rather unpleasant, because banhammers can be dropped quite frequently by mistake. I'd urge Valve to rethink this one, but I see the logic: don't cheat and effectively bite the hand feeding you. Still making me side-eye that, though.

If you leave a family you've joined? You have to wait a YEAR to join a new one. It's to prevent people form jumping ship to another group and screwing over who's in the former one in the process, but a YEAR? OUCH.

Problems aside, though... it's probably the biggest fucking power move I have ever seen a media distributor make in the current economic climate. It's the kind of thing that would let so many new games be available in a way that's easier than ever. Just a few clicks to send or accept an invite, and bam. Permanent access to dozens or even hundreds of new games with so much more freedom than earlier drafts of the system.

It's the kind of thing that slaps you in the face with positivity after so many Ls from the games and media industries. And I'm all the fuck for a W like this.

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

⋆⁺₊❅. “Give you...whatever you need!"⋆⁺₊❅.

synopsis: being the captains assistant ;)

tags: lots of possessiveness, manipulation (?), power dynamics, dom capitano, vulgar, explicit, fingering, facefucking, begging, degradation, penetration, creampie, you get the gist

wrd cnt: 2.5k

a/n: doja cat pls release generous ( lyrics from the song as title) and my life is YOURS… also partly inspired by the azeru audio….

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Droplets of a custom blend of his favorite drink, warm and slightly sweet hit the bottom of a porcelain cup.

It was just something you did, something you knew The Captain liked and as his assistant, routinely did.

This particular evening it was as if everyone in the nation needed you. A task, an errand, or just had to stop you in your tracks to his quarters for some idle chat.

It must have been several minutes longer than when he was expecting you, which was far too long to keep the Captain waiting; occupied against your will.

His tea was cold by now.

Finally, you ran over to his door. The runway-like carpet ending and small tiles lining the entryway to his office, guarded and sealed.

But you were a regular.

The guard knocked on the door, “Sir, your assistant has returned” he announced, waiting for an answer.

It took a few seconds, but you could hear a faint “Let her in”.

You sigh deeply and watch the giant doors open and shut behind you as you walk into the dimly lit room, only candles and small lamps lit across the table and crackling fireplace that remained behind The Captain’s seated body.

“Over and Over. I must have called you a thousand times? More or less.” He spoke, his voice clear even through the steel mask that adorned his face.

“I’m so sorry-“ You quickly respond, placing the cup on the edge of his desk and folding your hands together. “I got caught up with some others- a few harbingers as well needed my assistance.”

He straightened his legs, now standing in front of you, making you back up just slightly due to his large frame.

“It’s as if you’ve forgotten who you serve.” He said, the point of his gauntlet nail scratching the edge of your jaw and trailing down to your chin.

“Who kept you so long?” He asked, quickly adding “Never mind. Don’t tell me, I’d rather not know.”

You have trouble knowing where to look. Not wanting to cause any more trouble for yourself.

“Now that you’re here…maybe we should get started. You’ll probably need to stay overnight.” He mentioned.

You nod, agreeably to not seem like you’re eager to leave.

You sorted out all the intel Capitano had been collecting. There were piles of data, equipment, maps, and so much more. You were the only person he’d let touch them. It was common for you to stay late, as work never seems to dry out. It was also common for you to be whatever he wanted you to be. Errand runner, liaison…or his toy to let out his frustrations.

Everyone sees The Captain for what he puts on. Respectable and professional.

Most of the fatui honestly confess to enjoying working for him, as he has been much kinder than the others.

He can be, but he has his limits.

How can he be so kind to you when you’re late? You dared to keep him waiting.

“This is unlike you.” He says, noticing you yawn as you flip through the pages.

You blink your eyes a second too long, “Oh- I’m sorry I haven’t gotten much sleep, but I can keep working! Please don’t worry”. You assure.

“ I’m not worried, not for myself anyway.” He adds, kicking his feet up on the edge of the desk.

“Come here.” He urges you, forcing you to get off your small little table in the corner to his desk.

He flicks just one finger and you follow, taunting you to his lap.

“Yes- Captain?” You feel your throat get dry as you sit on his thigh, big enough to count as a seat.

“Is there anything…you need from me?” You ask, insinuating a more personal form of assistance.

He hikes his foot up higher on the table, creating a steep slope of his legs that drags you down and forces you into the crook of your lap, hands instinctively hitting his chest for balance.

“This isn’t for me. I think we need to wake you up.”

You felt a small shiver run up your spine when his hands landed on your hips, “How else will you finish all your work?” He adds.

You let out a small sigh as you felt his steel-clad fingers wrapping around your sides as if your ribs were now armored.

He slowly dragged them down your stomach, small points sliding down the sides of your thighs making you arch your back and grind onto his lap, earning a chuckle from him.

With swift motion, he grabs your throat; dropping his mask on the floor and letting it roll off somewhere.

Your body tenses, and you can see the most faint glimpses of his face; still hidden under the darkness of the room.

Deep and rich, he speaks to you, “Take off your clothes.”

Almost as if he’d conditioned your mind, you do so with no complaints.

He even helps, tugging up your shirt with the finger tip of his gauntlets as you pull it off. As your shirt falls to the floor, you stand before him in just your bra and skirt, your heart pounding in your chest. He doesn't waste any time, his hands moving to your back, deftly unhooking your bra with practiced ease. The straps slide down your arms, and your breasts spill free, bouncing lightly as they are finally released. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, exposed and vulnerable.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice dripping with approval. "Now the rest."

You slip your skirt down, letting it pool at your feet, and step out of it.

You stand there, naked and vulnerable, your breath hitching as Capitano's fingers trace the curve of your hips. His touch is firm yet deliberate, each movement sending shivers down your spine. Shadows play across his muscular frame, making him appear even more imposing as he pulls you back onto his lap, each leg now dangling off his sides.

"Spread your legs," he commands, his voice low and gravelly. The steel in his tone leaves no room for disobedience.

You hesitate for a brief moment, but the intensity in his dark blue eyes compels you to comply. You part your thighs, positioning yourself in his lap. The heat between your legs is almost unbearable, a stark contrast to the cool air brushing against your exposed skin. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your folds, another hand squeezing your breasts between his thumb and forefinger. You gasp, arching into his touch, your body betraying how much you crave his attention.

"Please..." you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he hears you.

He leans forward, his mouth closing around your nipple, suckling hard enough to make you cry out.

His teeth graze the tender flesh, sending waves of pleasure and pain coursing through you.

You grip his shoulders, your nails digging into the tough material of his armor, as he moves to your other breast, repeating the process. Each pull of his lips, each scrape of his teeth, makes you shudder, your body responding eagerly to his rough ministrations.

"Captain..." you moan, your voice breaking as he continues his assault on your senses and his gentle strokes around your inner thigh, purposefully ignoring your sensitive pearl.

He pulls back, leaving you panting and desperate for more. His eyes glint with satisfaction as he watches you struggle to catch your breath. "Turn around," he orders, his voice firm and commanding.

You obey, swinging your leg over and turning your back to him…well, it’s more of him picking up your entire weight and shifting you into position.

As you automatically reach for the edge of the desk to steady yourself, he lifts himself off his seat, stepping close to your body, his presence looming behind you, his heat radiating against your bare skin. You feel his hands on your ass, squeezing the globes roughly, spreading them apart to expose your most intimate parts. Your breath hitches as you anticipate what's coming next.

"Look at you," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "So ready for me." He adds, flicking his arm down to release his hand from the gauntlet, thudding on the floor just as his last piece of equipment.

“Is this what you were thinking about in that little corner of yours?” He teases.

His fingers trail down, skin grazing the crease where your thighs meet your ass, dipping lower until they brush against your wet folds. You gasp, your knees buckling slightly as he slips one finger inside you, probing deeply. You clench around him, your muscles instinctively tightening, drawing him deeper.

"You're so, so wet," he murmurs, his finger sliding in and out of you, slowly building up speed. "Such a good girl."

Your head falls forward, your forehead resting on the cool surface of the desk as you ride out the sensations he's unleashing on your body. His cold finger flicks against your clit, making you jerk and whimper, your hips swaying involuntarily as you try to get more friction. "Beg for it," he demands, removing his finger and resting it on your hips.

"Please... Captain, please," you beg, your voice shaking with need. "I want more... I need you..."

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh. "Not yet," he says, "But soon."

You whine in protest, your body aching for release, but he grabs your hips.

"On your knees," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You drop to your knees, your hands trembling as you reach for his belt, unbuckling it quickly. You undo his pants, pushing them down to reveal his hardened length, already glistening with pre-cum.

You lick your lips, your mouth watering at the sight of him.

"Take me in your mouth," he orders, his hands gripping your hair tightly. "Show me how much you want it."

You obey, wrapping your lips around his throbbing cock, sucking gently as you take him deep into your throat. He groans, his hands tightening in your hair as you bob your head up and down, your tongue swirling around him with each pass. You can feel him twitching in your mouth, his hips thrusting gently to meet your movements.

"Fuck... yes," he mutters, his voice strained with effort. "Suck it like you mean it."

You redouble your efforts, taking him deeper, your throat convulsing around him as you gag slightly.

He tastes amazing, salt and iron, the essence of his power and dominance filling your senses. You hollow your cheeks, sucking hard as you stroke the base of his shaft with your hand, listening to the sounds of his grunts and moans above you.

"That's it," he praises, his fingers digging into your scalp. "Just like that... almost there...you’re working so hard"

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his breathing heavy and labored. You know he's close, can feel the tension building in him, and you work harder, your jaw aching from the effort.

Suddenly, he lets out a low growl, his fingers yanking your head back as he comes, his hot seed flooding your mouth.

You swallow dutifully, licking him clean as he pulls out of your mouth, his chest heaving with exertion.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark with lust, and smirks. "Up," he commands, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm.

You do as told, standing up and facing him, your legs shaky from being on your knees for so long. He grabs your wrist, yanking you towards the desk, and pushes you onto it, your chest pressing against the cool wood. You gasp, your nipples rubbing against the rough surface, sending jolts of sensation through your body.

He kneels behind you, his hands roaming over your ass, squeezing and caressing the flesh before diving between your legs once more. His fingers find your drenched entrance, slipping inside with ease, pumping in and out with increasing speed.

You moan, your head falling back as his other hand circles your clit, rubbing it furiously.

"That’s it…keep making those sounds," he whispers, "So fucking wet for me. You need more, don’t you?”

You nod, unable to form words, your body consumed by the pleasure he's giving you. His rough hands continue to pleasure you, painting your ass red with just a single slap.

“Answer me.” He says, waiting for your begging voice before pressing his hard length into your ass.

“Yes- please….please Capitano.” You whimper.

You can almost feel the smirk that’s plastered on his face behind you. He lines himself up, his tip teasing your entrance, dipping just enough to coat himself in your slick arousal. You shiver at the contact, your body tensing in anticipation. Then, without warning, he presses forward, his cock sliding partway into your tight channel before pausing.

"Relax," he commands, his voice firm. "Give yourself to me completely."

You try to relax, breathing deeply, but the stretch is overwhelming. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he begins to push deeper, filling you inch by agonizing inch. You bite your lip to stifle a cry, your muscles clenching around him as he forces his way inside.

"That's it," he whispers, his voice strained. "Take it all, my little slut."

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he's buried deep inside you, his balls pressed against your ass. You gasp, overwhelmed by the sensation, by the fullness, by the sheer dominance of his presence within you. It's almost too much, but somehow, it's exactly what you need.

Capitano doesn't wait for you to adjust. With a low growl, he pulls back until only his tip remains, then thrusts forward again, his hips slamming into yours with bruising force. You cry out, your hands clutching at the desk for support as he claims you over and over again. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making your head spin and your vision blur.

"Fuck, you feel good," he grunts, his voice rough with exertion. "So tight, so perfect."

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate. He fucks into your at a monstrous pace, your body going limp. He picks you up, holding your neck firm from behind.

“Arch your fucking back.” He growls, roughly handling you into position. You can feel the tension building in him, the same tension that's coiling inside you, tightening with every thrust, every caress. You're close, so close, but he's not done with you yet.

He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back, his lips brushing against your ear. "Look at me," he commands, his voice a low rumble.

You obey, turning your head to meet his gaze. His eyes are wild, filled with lust and possession. He looks at you as if you're his world, his everything, and in this moment, you believe it.

"You're mine," he whispers, “Anytime another person- another damn harbinger calls for you- shit” He groans, “…tell them to fuck off. Captain’s order?” his voice thick with emotion. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, I will-!" you breathe, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

His hand slides down to your clit again, his fingers rubbing in fast, desperate circles. The added stimulation pushes you over the edge, and you scream his name as you come undone, your body convulsing around his cock. He follows right behind you, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave, filling you with his warmth.

You’ve never served Capitano with a cold cup of tea again.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[deramin2]

A Quick Guide To Getting Caught Up On Critical Role Fast

This guide is for people who want the fastest way official to get caught up on all 3 Critical Role campaigns without seeing the full actual play episodes. They're all made so that the AP will still be enjoyable later even if you know what happens. There's no "right" way to get into the series, and already having an idea of what happens can even help make the APs more enjoyable and easier to understand.

Summary:

The Legend of Vox Machina

Crit Recap Animated

Exandria: An Intimate History

Critical Role Abridged

Guide:

Campaign 1:

The Legend of Vox Machina on Amazon Prime is the animated adaptation of C1 by the same creators. Sam Riegel said the creative approach is this was the version in a later play. All the important bits are there, but they get to those moments differently.

The Legend of Vox Machina has 3 seasons out now that cover events up through at least episode 85. A 4th season is in the works and will probably cover the final arc.

Campaign 2:

An animated adaptation for Amazon Prime called "Mighty Nein" is in the works, but not out yet.

Crit Role Animated is an older comedic summary series presented by their Lore Keeper that covers the whole campaign in 10 videos. Great if you want the gist.

It's like a history crash course history video meant to get you curious to learn the full story later. Great way to get a sense of who people are and what they've done. Available on YouTube and their streaming platform Beacon.

Exandrian History Review:

Exandria: An Intimate History is a timeline review of key events in world history, starting from the creation.

It was released before Campaign 3 as bonus content. It represents what the average person in Exandria knows about world history up to that point.

Campaign 3:

Critical Role Abridged is the Campaign 3 AP condensed down into 1 to 1.5 hours. It mostly cuts down combat to the narrated results and reduces table chatter and indecisiveness. It's a great way to experience the full campaign.

Critical Role Abridged is coming out 1 a week at a time on YouTube and 2 a week on Beacon. YouTube is currently up to episode 25. Beacon is up to episode 47. The AP is at episode 109. At some point you'll have to switch to full episodes to catch up.

Wiki:

There's also 2 world-class wikis where's you can look up extensive and meticulously cited information about anything you need. I prefer The Encyclopedia Exandria.

Viewing Notes:

An important thing to know about "continuity" in Critical Role is that it takes a more realistic view of how history is passed down through the ages and even dedicated academics will never know the full story or be fully correct. They know versions colored by in-world biases and lost knowledge.

Which is great for you the viewer because any campaign you comes into, the characters don't know most of what happened in past games. What they actually know will come up in game. The players have above table reactions and some subtle in jokes, but try not to act on meta knowledge.

It's structured a lot like reading one history book and then wanting to go back and read more about past events that set the stage for all those things to happen. They've tried to make it easier to come into the story happening now.

I certainly enjoyed watching the full APs from the beginning, and I think you can get a deeper understanding of the story from them, but it takes thousands of hours to catch up on the story that way and it isn't realistic for everyone. Each series builds on the consequences of past events more than they rely on unexpected twists, so already knowing what happens just helps you notice all the little things that led to them. Similar to how Shakespeare's plays are often more enjoyable to watch unfold if you already know the basic plot points going into them.

Happy viewing, and I hope this helps you or someone you know get into this very rich and interesting story!

[youuuimeanmee]

ENDOO SHUT THE FUCK UPP

SO U MEAN TO TELL ME

THAT OUR FAN THEORIES

ARE CORRECT.

(endo-san, if you've planned this from the beginning, then a thousand applauds for you for sticking to this plot & foreshadowings for so long. If u were just throwing shit up & rely on fans' theories to see where you're going next, then great job for making it seem so seamless. wtf.)

I still don't buy the "Donovan is an alien" narrative completely; I still think he changed after he secretly volunteered to be a lobotomy experiment subject, to get the superpower he wants to reach a greater understanding in humanity.

Although, if Endo really wish to introduce a terrestial being into this series, then, does that mean Anya's telepathic ability is really born from the lab's experiment? Is she born from the sperm of an alien?? Alien DNA recombination?? Lolol. *edit: this is just me hoping that Anya's telepathic ability was developed in vitro, bc the idea of those mad scientists opening up Anya's skull & cutting up her brain whe she was a baby is just sick beyond belief & i cant accept that.*

I am so so glad to see Fiona in this chapter, trying to extract extra info from Desmond's staff! It really hammers down how incredible this valuable opportunity is for Westalis. Great job Endo-san, for not forgetting to include this 👍

Wait.

Wait a damn minute.

If what Melinda say is true, Donovan can read minds,

Then Donovan must've read Twillight's mind on their first meeting; his fake persona & and Operation Strix have already been busted.

Maybe this is not just a mere illustration inside Twillight's head, maybe this really IS Donovan's reaction when he find out about Operation Strix?? LMAO

Or maybe Donovan can only read minds to a certain extent –not fully like Anya, so maybe he can only get the gist of what people are thinking; so he doesn't know Operation Strix yet, but he knows that Twilight wants to extract some information from him.

(though I wanna add, even if Twillight is from the opposing country, I hope Twillight's sincerity to meet in the middle could reach Donovan too.)

I've known these theories for awhile, but could these be true afterall?? (We're already at this stage, but I still don't wanna assume fanons as canons.)

Then.

IF Damian —at the family dinner— was remembering Anya's confession that she can read minds, and he wished he could read what's on his father's mind too,

Does it mean Anya's telepathic ability is already busted by Donovan?

Is my theory from ch 106 correct afterall???

Oh wAIT.

FUCK I forgot if Donovan read Melinda's mind too, then he must've learned that Melinda has befriended Yor Forger. The mother of Anya Forger. The daughter of Loid Forger.

Combine that information from Melinda and information from Damian that Anya can read minds....

... does it mean Donovan has assumed that Twillight from Westalis is using his telepathic "daughter" as a spy in Eden Academy?

Funny thing is, Twilight himself has no idea about all this implication. He's a million steps away from Donovan.

HAHAHAHHAA

(lol how could I not read this from miles away)

Argh fuck, I'm really worried for Anya now.

This could very well escalate into the "war" of obtaining Anya as an asset. Maybe it'll still be light-hearted, like manipulating Damian's romantic feelings for Anya by inviting her to have dinner together, but still. At first, I thought Donovan might get Anya expelled from school because she's dangerous, but I figure she's just too valuable to be tossed away; it's better to keep her close while extracting info from her as much as he can. Or use her ability to the fullest.

At least Anya is now aware that Donovan has the same ability as her, so at least she can proceed with more caution now.

I hate seeing Anya being the only one aware of the whole situation & she struggles alone to keep it all together — like what she has done all this time. That's why I really want Anya to come clean with Twilight so he can at least get a picture of the whole situation he's facing right now, and protect her properly, but I know it'll massively shift the Forger dynamic we're used to. I have no idea how will Endo handle this development from now on.

Well, that's enough anxiety for tonight.

Stay safe Anya! 🙏🥺🥺🥺

[calamaroo]

Octonauts OC ~~~~~~ Mountain Mammoth🦣====================

HE IS MY SON, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH EEEEEE (I really hope this doesn't flop because I love him) (also, this may be a long ass yap, whoopsiesss)

While technically an Octonauts OC, Mountain is in the same boat of "wildly different from the show" as Stag. "Mountain," as his real name means, now lost to time, is a woolly mammoth shifter. He was an idea I had that became fully realized with the help of my friend, @mildy-vibing <33

LORE :

As for general backstory, he's still a new-ish OC (I've had him for 3-4 weeks maybe) so I'm not entirely sure as to his exact story. But, the main gist of his character/idea was . . . He is immortal, and at the very least, around 5000 years old. HOWEVER, immortal does not mean unkillable. He can get hurt, become sick, starve, freeze, and other such means of demise, but HE CAN NOT DIE OF OLD AGE.

Immortal = can die from any means beside old age, Invincible = can't die from any means besides old age. That's the simplest wat to put it.

Anywho!!

For a little history lesson, the earliest known case of living woolly mammoths was on an island near Sibera called Wrangel Island, and that little piece of history is what inspired me to make my son. In real life, they died out due to too few genetic diversity in their isolated population, climate change, and perhaps other unknown causes.

In my vague story idea I have for him, I haven't yet decided if that part of the history stayed the same (the genetic diversity problem, I mean), gets kinda iffy when you make the animals into people yk?

Basic Character Info :

Gentle and spiritual soul, with very old religious beliefs (bro is 5000 years old, and for the most part, stuck in the mindset of people from that age)

His beliefs are almost paganistic, centering around a being called "The Great Mother," who is the embodiment of the universe, fate, life, and death. Usually, I'd stray away from bringing religion into my blog and characters (people can be sensitive, and I personality find the topic uncomfortable), but it's a very crucial part of him as a man, so I think idea of basically mother nature being his god-figure can slide.

Being a mammoth, he eats purely vegetation and is, for the most part, a pacifist. If push comes to shove, though, as trouble that the rarity that he is amongst the less law-abiding side of society, he can and will defend himself.

He's mostly blind and relies heavily on his senses of smell and hearing. Pachyderms don't generally have good eyesight anyway, and I wanted to make my characters more diverse. (He's just like me fr 🥺 (I have horrible eyesight))

As a herd animal, he's very sociable and friendly. He LOVES making new friends to the point that it becomes obsessive (being completely alone for thousands of years'll do that to a fella). Be nice to him once and you'll never get rid of him until you're dead, and even then, he'll wait til you're decayed. In short, he's clingy (again, HE'S JUST LIKE ME FR 😭)

When alone, however, he keeps himself hidden deep within the farthest plains, the deepest valleys, and the highest mountains.

IN REFERENCE TO THE THIRD PICTURE : He was a massive mama's boy when she was alive, and going by the rules of pachyderm herd society, she was the "matriarch," or the leader (herds were mostly females with their young until they reached mature age). While Mountain did wander and, for lack of a better term, breed (older days, older ways), he was never far from his mama. She was his rock and entire world (but not in the creepy boy-mom way because those people piss me off to no end). When she passed of old age, he was devastated, as was he for when his wife passed . . . And then his children, and his grandchildren, and so on.

When his wife aged and he did not, that was when Mountain began to realize there was something different about him. Then, as he continued to live on, he watched the fall of his entire species, and for many hundreds of years, it was a confusing, horrific, and tragic ordeal. The Great Mother had laid down a path for him never seen before, and it took many more hundreds of years for him to come to terms with. He refuses, though, to forget his former family, their traditions, and their ways. It's what keeps him trudging along --- a guilt that if he were to die, all of his people's ideas and lives would pass too.

In the modern day, he's found refuge and friendship with an oc of @mildy-vibing 's own, a fellow extinct species, Darwin the Thylacine!! (And other extinct OCs I won't say in case they don't want me to)

And that's all I have for my beautiful, curly haired immortal son!! I hope you enjoyed my tangent, and if you read it all, I truly appreciate it. I love when people actually like my stuff . . . 👉👈😔 🤎🤎🤎

====================

[entelodante]

Wanted to get into the Abby choirs. These are some of the fellas from an undisclosed (read: the favorite) Abattoir! INFO DUMP BELOW!

Starting with names! From left to right, Daniel, Michael, and Kirstin! Have a big post cooking about how to get into the club but for now what the job entails. Choirs are those blessed with slivers of the Gods power, BUT unlike the dragons and abattoirs they are born from within the Abby they'll serve. Not that Abattoir residents know that there are any others!

Choirs are tasked with keeping order and stability within their Abbies, the two main tasks are ensuring that the populace stays in good condition and making absolutely sure the tobacco quota is met. The latter being far more important than you'd think at first.

The God Worms kind of give them free reign to do whatever they want otherwise, so it kind of depends on the vibe of the choir for how your internal Abby experience shall go! Some are more laid back, some are more totalitarian. Gods don't really care as much as they probably should. These fellas within the favorite Abattoir are more laid back than most, defaulting to a more democratic approach to keep the people they're watching happy. Michael has been there the longest, a few thousand years, Kirstin and Daniel have been there a few hundred years.

Another IMPORTANT NOTE is that every choir member looks like that is because to become a member you need to partake in some divine flesh to gain godly power. Such power violently corrupts those it meets! But should you survive the process, you get a fun monster form and power in one of two veins. That of either flesh or soul. Both the separate domains of the Gods so you can only be particularly good in one. Flesh is far more common than soul, as leaning too hard into the soul aspect may result in getting kicked out of your body. :(

That's the main gist! Oh another big perk is also the initial reason most people try to join the choir! Choir members are exempt from the yearly feast.

[slutfactory]

I couldn't stop thinking about Matsukawa, so here's a thirst. Saw that your thirsts were open, lol. Also sorry if my English is bad 🤭

Okay, so timeskip!Matsukawa is a well known S&M streamer, and he approaches the unsuspecting reader in a bar he frequents. Why? Because he's looking for a new sub after yet another one quit without so much as warning. For about three streams, he's been doing chit chat streams. By now, his audience has probably gotten tired of it.

Cut to Issei bringing reader to the room he streams in, and reader immediately knows what's going on, because reader was an on and off watcher of his streams. Of course, reader plays along right up until the stream is about to start and quickly turns the tables on him. You put his face mask on to protect his identity and try to keep your face out of frame as much as possible when the stream starts up.

You can't even read the chats because everyone's sending comments, but you get the gist of what they're all saying. Ignoring them, you tell them to sit back and enjoy the show.

YES. why does this suit him so well?

the chat's going crazy and the donations are piling in, yet Issei doesn't notice because he's too focused on trying not to cum. alas, he fails in this and gets his thighs and cock whipped with the same riding crop he would use on all his partners before. he can't do anything but cry out and beg for mercy while you manhandle him in front of what could be tens of thousands of people.

mattsun is honestly surprised that you know how to use most of the toys on him; little does he know, it's all thanks to his teaching. <3

he's so embarrassed, being made to look like a pain slut on camera, but he can't stop himself from moaning and shaking his hips when you spank him when you call him a whore.

imagine if after you're done, he swallows his already shattered pride and asks if you could do this again sometime. though, he says it's for the sake of content, but you know that's not the case.

more of these, pls bats eyelashes

[melancholicstation]

CONSIDERING AVIATION? - a bobby kennedy one-shot

summary: turns out this attorney general is definitely prone to peer pressure by pretty women! who could've guessed that. authors note: of course gimagus was not around in the sixties (though i do try to dress the readers in period appropriate clothes) the reader's outfits are literally an apparition of my ssense shopping cart at a specific time! feel no pressure to imagine them that way. let that fashion freak flag fly high! shout out to @remotewatch for indulging in airport bobby kennedy and giving inspiration!

tags: @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123 @jackiesgirl @chemicalw0rld @remotewatch @starsprangledgirl @strryhaze @beloved-angel @absurdlyvintage

warnings: none just bobby being peer pressured into taking off his shirt but he loves it more than he ought to!

words: 2,308

A lot of people probably thought you were crazed for selecting a career path in the sector of aviation—with all it's arduous work schedule, time away from friends and family, and draining time zone changes. But nevertheless you loved it.

"Do you think I'm crazy For considering aviation? I'm a fan of flying...

As a child of a particularly affluent New England family you enjoyed the pleasure of flying often in your childhood—your beloved aupair dutifully carrying behind you your soft shell carry-on luggage bag containing various cotton pique dresses and chemises, along with a backpack containing note pads and pencils to do your homework between flights.

Safe to say growing up flying across the globe gave you an innate fixation on it advancing into it as a career path in adulthood. Which is exactly how you got here, being an air hostess for Texas' biggest airline in the state: Air Texas.

Why not do it for the nation? Cause I have nothing else to do...

Safe to say your parents weren't the biggest fans of your particular career path. Your mother wanted you to be some sort of home-maker living it up in North Connecticut in a weatherboard house, sedated out of your mind on blue pills making jello moulds all day—okay maybe that's not exactly transcribing what she said but you get the gist!

In opposition your father always had dreams of you becoming a middle school teacher, claiming you had a certain way with children. However, you would beg to differ if a particular heated fight with one of your teenage cousins on Christmas morning ending in tears and a very unhappy look on both of your parents faces was anything to go by.

Instead of submitting to either of your parents wishes you bucked the trend and got a big degree in philosophy of all things, to which your father calmly explained that he would not spend over four thousand dollars into Harvards pockets just to facilitate a degree that would leave you severely and desperately unemployed.

But, because he's your father he relented, as you thought most fathers ought to do with their daughter's aspirations.

However you can't he was entirely wrong on the whole unemployment rate of philosophy students. Well-paying employers weren't exactly falling over themselves to find young, freshly-graduated philosophy majors to hire. So when Air Texas provided you with an opportunity you took it with absolute and total vigour.

Have a big degree in philosophy But I don't know what I want to be...

Working for an airline was, to you at least, a pretty stable method of income which payed you to basically talk shit with other twenty-something women and have limited contact with the on-board passengers, bar simply asking them if they want orange juice or coffee with their plastic covered, stale piece of bread to go along with their miso soup that is probably still in the best by date. Probably.

All in all it was a good gig, with a stellar choice of wardrobe.

Getting ready for your job was a relatively easy and stress-free task for you. First step was to wash yourself and hair in rose water, then carefully assemble your hair into smooth waves with the front sections pulled back by two ivory chignon hair pins engraved with the company namesake. Moving onto makeup was easy: fresh skin with a powdered t-zone, red lacquered lips, and a tawn beige blush to the cheeks.

So I'm going into aviation, yeah, mom I'm going into aviation, yeah, dad Going into aviationI'm going into aviation...

The uniform in its basic form was relatively strict: white ballerina toe high boots in white, low rise mini skirt or denim micro shorts in white paired with a halter fitted top in a cotton-linen blend also in white.

The details, however, in your uniform were more customizable. A hat was required so you chose a paperboy denim cap, a pair of butterfly lenses and with some more affixing of random jewellery pieces you'd possibly stolen from your grandmothers estate years ago, you were all but ready to head to work.

You'd thought today to be a relatively normal work day, that was until you attended the mandatory briefing meeting required before every flight and was informed that a member of "very high influence" had loaned out the aircraft for the day and that your boss had offered staff to service those on board.

How curious.

You'd never really heard of famous people being able to loan out commercial airplanes, you'd heard that more often than not they fly private—which made you realise that it was more than likely going to be a large volume of passengers boarding the flight to even start to justify what you imagined would be a gargantuan loan price tag.

After briefing was done you'd forgotten mostly about it till boarding—besides it wasn't the first time a famous person had flown public before. Though somehow it was always your most hated colleague that got to unfairly serve said famous person tea or coffee instead of you, so the star-power of a boarding passenger didn't all that much change your workday or your mood.

At least it hadn't until now.

You'd begun boarding and preparing for the short three hour flight without much fuss—being informed that the group would arrive in the next hour. So you used the time to make coffee for your three closet work girlfriends: Renee, Colleen, and Virginia. Now, you'd never say this to them face to face but them being there made those arduous flight hours worth it to you, and they were the only ones who would indulge your inclination to lightly gossip about passengers. Lightly, of course.

You'd all assumed your positions as boarding came into session, as if on auto-pilot you simply did your job: politely meeting the eyes of passengers, giving them each an earnest smile. But, after the 5th passenger you'd started to see a pattern linking each person from the next—and it wasn't that they were just from the same group loaning the plane, they all donned a specific sort of pin.

Initially they moved much too quick for you to discern any sort of writing on the pin, but once a women kneeled down to slide her cabine trunk under her seat you could clearly make out the content of the pin: the pin writing "Kennedy" in simple, white arial font against a lapis background.

Some wore it on their jacket lapel, others on their tie, and others simply on their mohair sweater.

Huh, must be a Kennedy campaign plane you thought to yourself. Not even really entertaining the idea that the "Kennedy" up for office would be on board at this very moment.

The first thirty minutes of the flight was pretty much smooth sailing all around, from what you gathered the campaign members were all young, vivacious citizens putting in the effort. In a certain light they were incredibly admirable for their efforts, though you didn't know that you quite had it in you to follow a politician to every damn state in the country.

That was until you'd seen his face. That damn face on his face.

To Colleen's credit you weren't the first to spot him, quite frankly because you were so sure a man of his status would be irrevocably be flying private. Always.

She, according to her word had seen him set up shop across two recliner chairs, sitting cross legged with a gentle yet firm hand stroking his cocker spaniel 'Freckles' and another flipping through a manila folder filled to the brim with loose leaf.

What clued you into his arrival however was the loud ruckus that your three friends were making by loudly and not at all discreetly whispering in each others ears in the crew area. Feeling unbelievably left out you race over there desperate to hear whatever they've got to tell, they clue you in with remarkable speed and clarity. Bobby Kennedy is on board right this minute.

Though, it's only when Renee motions your eyes with her hand that you see the main topic of conversation for yourself: Bobby Kennedy quietly reading a book... innocuous enough sure to the naked eye. But after a short inspection you see that not only did he discard his sleeveless sweater vest but that his white button-down has two-less buttons covered than it originally did: making a littering of chest hair subtly apparent to those who looked for it. Giggling with your girls, you started to feel a little bad for objectifying a man who's simply just reading a book but in your mind it was utterly harmless.

After about 5 minutes of ogling you'd been called over to refill the beverage jugs, leaving the three to have their fun with him. But only when you got back you saw just how much fun they were having...

You weren't exactly sure what you had walked into—all you knew was the first thing you saw was bobby being cornered by your very charming and very attractive friends and Virginia saying in a tone bordering on mocking tone, yet exceeding at being sickly sweet,

"Oh C'mon Bobby it's only your shirt! A peek really can't hurt now could it?"

Peeking out from your position in the cabin alcove, you observe a deep red crimson blush wash over his face, bathing it in the kind of expression right before the big dip of a roller coaster: exhilaration meeting intense trepidation all along the features of his greek god like face.

Blushing, he begins to fiddle with the cotton of his button-up, listening intently to the encouragement from your two other friends,

"C'mon Bobby we won't ever tell a single soul, it'll just be our little secret!"

Quietly giggling, as to not give your specific vantage point away, you're deeply shocked when he actually does relent to their request. Sheepishly removing the cotton layer revealing a mosaic of chestnut hair mediated by a taupe natural tan to the skin.

What shocked you even more, however, is that Renee calls out to you, seemingly aware that you had been there the entire time,

"Y/n, honey, come take a picture of us with that Kennedy boy! He's real cute too!"

Groaning internally from the embarrassment of being caught you take the camera from her hands, quickly snapping a few photos of your friends either side of a shirtless Bobby Kennedy.

This would surely be a story to tell at dinner parties, Huh?

Laughing slightly you hand the photos back, to which the girls ogle at the pictures pointing at the picture and calling him over,

"Oh Bobby, Look how darling you look here!"

As if just registering your presence as you were about to leave this very strange bordering on erotic situation. He appears docile as ever quickly nodding at you as if to say hello without actually verbalising it, waving with his left hand.

You wave back warmly and decide to leave the alcove, but not before taking in the utter physical comedy of a United States senator completely shirtless, wearing black trousers adorned with a slate belt, in front of a handful of Texas flight attendants simply at their request.

It's about an hour before you encounter Bobby again, and coincidentally you'd hit the tarmac into the airport about 15 minutes ago, with all passengers boarding off bar one: Bobby.

Apparently he had fallen asleep on the floor of the seat along with his dog and no one had the heart to tell him the planes landed by waking him up. It felt cruel, almost like waking up a newborn fawn in the middle of nap time. Did fawns even have nap time? You didn't quite know.

Taking one for the team, and totally not because you were curious what his face would look like completely rested: not haunted by the daily struggle you were sure he faced being who he was and doing what he did.

Kneeling down you quietly knock on the side of the plastic seat in an effort to wake him up, although that only causes his dog, Freckles, to awake and furiously lick the face of its owner. Which does begin to wake him up.

"Mr Kennedy, Sorry to disturb you but we've arrived at Lafayette Regional Airport."

"That's quite okay—thank you very much"

You notice he's put his button-up and sweater back on, much to your chagrin. Turning away you start to leave to collect your own baggage when you hear an audible stomach groan of hunger from what you can only assess as coming from Bobby as your the only two on the aircraft.

Sympathetic, you reach into your waist pack and fish out some rice crackers, along with a bottled water, and place it on the cushion of the seat in front of him. Leaving food for him to find like a person leaves food out for easily scared woodland creatures.

Coming back to do your final sweep and check of the seats before they were to be cleaned by the cleaning crew for the next flight, you lock eyes with Bobby and trail your eyes down, down, down to a surprisingly, shockingly large bulge in the pant of his trouser, accompanied by a pained from anticipation expression that almost drips over his entire face covering, encasing him whole.

All in all he looks utterly a mess and pathetic, not at all how he should present himself to the adoring fans lined outside the airport immolating his presence. So you do as anyone in your position would do—okay maybe not everyone but you'd wager on most,

"Give me one sec, I'll take care of it I promise."

You leave Bobby alone and catch your three friends unloading their personal carry-ons, you inform them that Bobby's in the bathroom and you'll see him out and make sure everything's in order for the next flight. They eye you suspiciously as if they know what's really going on, but no one dares to share.

They know you'll debrief tomorrow anyway so what's the point in spoiling the fun early anyway?

Safe to say after a good 20 minutes, Bobby Kennedy departs the plane and greets slobbering fans looking more chipper and revitalised than any person ought to look after spending hours on board a metal flying tube... but who were they to speculate on what went on during that flight?

I'm gonna take a vacation, yeah, man Fly fighter jets all over the nation Fly fighter jets all over the nation"

[silverskye13]

Silver I know next to nothing about the alien franchise and movie, I am giving you full permission to use this ask as an opportunity to spread propaganda to get me (and anyone else) to finally watch it

So it's, so like, the thing is, right. I'm not a movie tech kinda person [though it is technically impressive, the funny little tricks they did, like not having the budget for a Big Space Ship Derelict so they are a scaled down model that the director's kids in space suits walked up to so it would look bigger, and it was shown to the audience on a shitty CCTV because they didn't do a big matte painting of the set they filmed the tiny one, projected it onto a wall, and then filmed that.] So my rant isn't going to be about how technologically cool the movie was for 1979 on a less than optimal budget. But what I do like, what I excel at, is breaking down themes and tropes. And my god. My god. Just. Ugh. [Flails my arms.]

So a basic rundown for the movie, spoilers ahead, and my analysis of how fucking cool it is:

Basic gist of the movie: The crew of the commercial mining vessel Nostromo are awoken halfway through their trip back to earth by a mysterious signal, calling for help on a far away planet. Upon going down to investigate, one of their crew members is attacked by a strange alien parasite which attaches to his face. This kicks off a tale of increasing horror as the new alien kills off the crew one by one, culminating in Ripley [the main character] blowing up the ship and fleeing in an escape pod, not sure if she'll ever be picked up in the vastness of space -- with the ships cat, who miraculously also survives. [We all know Jonesy is the real main character 💜.] Along the way a plot by the Weyland-Utani corporation is revealed, one of the crew is discovered to be an android, and there is a lot of alien screeching.

Now! The themes that I go absolutely feral over can commence.

The horror of the movie, the reason why the alien is scary, and lethal to humans specifically, is it is a creature built for efficient survival, and this is a trait that Ash, the ship's science officer [and resident hiding android] highly praises in the critter. He describes it as beautiful, elegant, pure in its efficiency. The perfect organism. Efficient.

Humans, by comparison, aren't efficient. We are social. And efficiency preys on social needs. For example:

The xenomorph eggs can survive for ages [in the derelict they're found on, the dead alien who drove the ship is described as fossilized. These eggs have been here for thousands of years. But they activate immediately when a curious human pokes around them. It isn't a fast process. Kane is poking around for a few minutes, looking at the movements of the creatures in their eggs, making observations. Curious. Curiosity is an inefficient trait -- he would have survived if he had climbed out of the hole the eggs were in and left, or even waited for the rest of his team to enact quarantine and investigation procedures.

Speaking of quarantine! When Dallas and Lambert bring Kane, newly infected by an alien parasite, back to the ship, Ripley locks them in the airlock. There are quarantine procedures. We can't risk the whole crew. But they are scared for Kane's safety. He might die without help. They break quarantine. If they hadn't broken quarantine, the baby alien would've been born in the airlock, where it would get spaced the moment it was born.

When the face hugger parasite dies and Kane seems to return to normal, what they should have done to attempt to reinstate quarantine was put him in hyper sleep. His body would have been frozen in a stasis which might have frozen the parasite or, if it hadn't, would have left the new baby alien trapped in a stasis pod. But Kane, haggard and scared from his ordeal, asks can we please have one more meal together before I go to sleep? And that one meal is long enough for the new xenomorph to be born, and release terror on the ship.

There is more. Parker would have lived if he hadn't gone to find the cat by himself, leaving the safety of his group. Dallas would have lived if he let Ripley go through the vents, but he was the captain and he didn't want to risk someone else's life so he went instead. Brett would have lived if he'd left Lambert behind when she was being attacked, or if he'd hit the xenomorph with the flamethrower instead of insisting Lambert get out of the way first. And Lambert would have lived if she'd run instead of being paralyzed in fear by the creature killing her friends. And the xenomorph? Wasn't even eating it's kills. No gore. Little blood. It was killing them because it knew they would kill it, and it was neutralizing threats. Efficient.

The xenomorph is very clearly engineered for survival, and it's survival depends on killing the inefficient organisms around it. Even it's acid blood is described as a survival mechanism, not an offensive mechanism.

Okay Skye, we hear you talking about how scary the critter is because it's not a social creature. That's an interesting observation, but it's still just a monster story, right?

Well, let me tell you an alternative story. Just a little to the left of the original, but one I would argue is still very very canon.

You are an android built by Weyland-Utani, a company which is jealously hunting alien tech to use for its many space programs. You are placed on the Nostromo because there is a known anomaly in the area, and they want to find it. Your job is to get a specimen back to the company, all other protocols expended.

You are programmed to be efficient, so you get to work.

You wake the crew when you find the signal. You give them only the information they need to investigate: it is a signal that repeats every 12 seconds. You let them make the conclusion it is an SOS. Humans are social creatures. They want to help other social creatures in need. There is some arguing about whether they should go, but in the end an extra push from you sends them. Ripley, one of the more efficient members of the crew, keeps asking you why you haven't decoded the message.

"Mother [the super computer running the ship] is still working on it." This is true. She has only translated part of the signal. By the time Ripley realizes it's a warning, the crew is already on the way to the derelict. You tell her if she walks out there, they will have already figured out if it's a warning or not by the time she makes it to them. She agrees.

When they return with a specimen, Ripley [efficient, following protocol] doesn't want to let them on. But Ripley doesn't know you're an android, so when you break quarantine, and you tell her you just wanted Kane to be safe, she begrudgingly believes you.

When the alien is loose, it is easy for you to keep them from killing it. Humans are social, inefficient creatures, and you feel no empathy for their deaths. You do pity them though. Between you and the alien, their chances of survival are slim.

If only they were more efficient.

The horror in Alien is not the xenomorph. The horror in Alien is when anything, primal creatures, androids, a particularly greedy corporation, preys on human social needs in order to get what it wants. There is significance in that Ripley, despite everything, chose to save the cat. She needed companionship. All humans do. She needed to save that cat. A cat that was cantankerous and mean, and hissed whenever it was held, was better than the cold efficiency of empty space.

Any system that prioritizes absolute efficiency will be inhospitable to human life.

[theeio]

If u have the time could you pls give us ur jim analysis based on this post im very interested in hearing it

headsup for some heavy mental health talk:

so my interpretation of jim, and the reason why i drew him the angsty way i did was because i looked at his character in ToA from like, a mental illness metaphor perspective. i dont think(?) it was ever the showrunner’s intention to do that, but its just a personal way i viewed it bc i saw and felt a lot of his struggles between the lines of the series.

like in episode 6: Win Lose or Draal- where Jim thinks hes going to get killed in battle, writes letters to his loved ones, cooks a last meal for his mom, felt and acted like was the last day he was going to live. Claire interpreting his letter to her that he was talking about having “internal monsters” and “being in some kind of trouble” didnt help much as well AHAH

jim hiding so much from his mom, that one shot in season 1 episode 12 or 13 where he hides the damage on his arms from the goblins behind his back-AHHHHH

and dont get me started on the bathtub scene in A House Divided like idk what the showrunners were thinking doing that but okay i guess😭 that one made me sob on the floor like TWICE

and Jimhunters-god that really felt like your life being altered, and seeing everything in a much darker lens when going through depression. the first time i watched it and when Jim ran to the school rooftop i was legitimately horrified and scared out of my MIND but thank god they didn’t go much beyond that. STILL. thanks for the heart attack 😭😭😭

so back to the tags on that post:

i never liked a hero w a thousand faces because of how chaotic and exaggerated everything was but i guess its because it was different parts of jim split and personified.

but i guess it just messed me up seeing that episode again and having Hunter Jim, the highest functioning one out of them all being the one hunting HIMSELF DOWN, one by one. it really felt like a lot of self loathing going on, and he literally was looking to “kill” other parts of himself, and then the Real Jim as a whole. sorry that was jumbled up and a lot but it was what made me go like

thats kinda the gist of how i saw some moments of Jim’s character back then, and i guess it explains why so much of my art leans towards angst and that hurt comfort, because of all those interpretations i had going on in my head. it was rough a couple years back and this series helped me to reflect and process a lot of what happened and the feelings i had, through Jim. it was a like a safe little sandbox i could toss around in and it genuinely helped so much in healing :”D!! so yeah its more of a personal take, but hope this answers ur question?

ty for sending this ask!! hope you’re well💖💖💖

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

I've been eagerly anticipating Django Wexler's latest book, How to Become the Dark Lord and Die Trying, and it did not disappoint. It lacked his trademark ambivalently aspec protagonists, but it's got plenty else to recommend it. Our protagonist Davi is the Chosen One, summoned by Ancient Magicks from our modern world to save the ancient fantasy kingdom from evil and defeat the Dark Lord... except that, after nigh on a thousand attempts ending in abject failure and agonizing death, she's sick of this shit and ready to try something different.

Her narrative voice is pretty jarring at first, all gratuitous callousness and memelord edge, but it didn't take long to adjust to, and it took on an air of tragedy as it became clear that, after centuries of bashing her head against the same unsolvable problem, these contextless quips and references were basically all she remembered of her "real" life. The overall tone reminded me of nothing so much as Nevernight, with its cheerfully crapsack world, pitch black humor, and frequent tangential asides, but it's execution was far more deft, never straying into the excessive gratuity or clumsy moralizing that Nevernight is sometimes prone to.

Davi is a deeply entertaining protagonist, balancing a fundamental decency with a near complete disconnect from reality after so long spent in her time loop. She's also astonishingly bisexual and unabashedly horny about it - it's always a plus for me when a book captures some of the viscerality of queer desire. Though the book fades to black for any actual sex scenes, her observations after the fact are always a delight. For anyone who's read Ashes of the Sun and remembers the scene where Beq got distracted and started talking about her special interest in the middle of getting fingered... well, you get the gist.

Definitely recommend for any fans of high fantasy subversions, isekai subversions, and traumatic time loop enjoyers (tagging @urban-sith for no particular reason)

[marigold-hills]

Dunes & Waters, part 44

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

They get the water.

Remus fills a glass bottle he steamed clean before leaving, corks it and puts a charm on it so it doesn’t spill. Sirius is already Padfoot, running in and out of the Nile, accosting passers-by’s and making children laugh. A little one gets prompted by his parents to ask Remus permission, then spends half an hour throwing a stick which Padfoot fetches each and every time. It’s a lovely day. They’re just north of Aswan, where the Nile historically began to flood before promanades were built and agriculture evolved into no longer needing the natures’ assistance.

There’s something sad about it, even while it’s amazing, how the people living there moved forward and harnessed what before was out of their control. Still, Remus can’t help but look at the water with a nostalgia for things which came and went before his time: for five thousand years, people came to the river for help with their crops. Prayed to it, made up gods for it. Now, the river is just that. Beautiful, but not much but a geological attraction.

“Your dog is very well behaved,” the family says when the child has had enough of running around with Padfoot. “What did you use to train him?”

“He came to me like that,” Remus tells them because anything else that springs to mind is not appropriate for polite conversation.

He sits on the grass. Padfoot lays at his feet, head resting on his thigh, eyes closed. The Nile is in front of them, the New Aswan City Amphitheater behind.

“The Nile was a way into the afterlife, you know?” Remus tells the dog. It focuses on him. “A causeway from life to death. Where Osiris drowned, but also where all life comes from.”

A soft huff from the dog, and Remus knows Sirius well enough to know it means keep going. Tell me more.

“I think I know what the potion does,” Remus pets through the dark mane on the dogs head, “I’ve got the translation… not fully, but I’ve got the gist of it. She wrote about control, and regaining it. When the moon is full, before you are made into beast, drink. The gods will speak to Osiris for you. If he’s so willing, forever the night will be yours to command.”

The dog pushes its mouth into Remus. 

“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. No, that’s a lie. You can always tell anyway. We should write to Kingsley. You’re done with what you were supposed to do. And I’ve been keeping you here, pointlessly. Keeping you from going home. Just… well, the translation was something I could still pretend I needed your help with, but it’s just unfair on you, and I’m sorry. I really, I am, Sirius -”

He’s cut off. The dog becomes a man. There is no one around them, but Remus still panics. 

Hands on his face, Sirius stops him from talking. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he says. “You think I didn’t realise we were almost finished? Remus, you’re not keeping me here. I’m staying here, whatever my conditions of release were, because I want to be.” Sirius kisses so softly like it could show he’s honest and Remus breaks, just a little bit, because he fretted for nothing. They still have time. Not much of it, but it’s there. Sirius isn’t leaving.

“The translation. Tell me.”

“Follow in the footsteps of Osiris, beloved one, but beware. There is a price to be paid for chance of freedom - the price of rebirth is wading through death. If gods do not favour in your way, the path of return will be lost.”

They sit in silence, Sirius with the frown between his eyebrows he always gets when deep in thought. “So it is about the transformation.”

“It is. I think… well, I think it’s meant to make it so the werewolf doesn’t lose control. It sounds like once you drink, you stay in your mind forever.”

“It sounds like it’s warning you of something. The price of rebirth is death,” Sirius speaks cautiously. Moves himself away to get a better look at Remus. “And I checked, red lotus and acacia both symbolise rebirth. You weren’t planning on drinking it, were you?”

And Remus knows better than to lie, so he stays quiet.

“Remus. My love. Darling. You can’t be… this is an ancient potion we got the recipe for out of an artefact. It’s not tested. Surely you know I wouldn’t let you.”

“You can’t be surprised that I would be tempted.”

“Tempted is one thing,” Sirius runs frustrated fingers through his hair. “But to actually consider it? It’s not worth it. Even if it wasn’t for the fact that it could be a very old practical joke a couple thousand years in the making, it literally has a warning on the label. The path to return will be lost, you said.”

“That could mean anything.”

“Or it could mean that you die, Remus.”

They both sit with the words. The sun softly sets over the Nile.

“I won’t make it if it’s for anything else than research,” Sirius says. “You can’t make me contribute to you hurting yourself.”

Remus lays his head on Sirius’ shoulder, half expecting to be pushed off. Instead, a hand cradles through his hair, fingers get lost in curls frizzy from the day spent by a late body of water.

“Fine,” he agrees, because he can’t imagine a world in which he’d willingly push Sirius away.

There will be ways to test it, he thinks. To check whether it works, what it does, what the warning really means. If death is, in fact, a condition of the potion and rebirth just the optional outcome. 

NEXT PART

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

@cocoabutterandbooks

@onion-sliced-apples

@prancingpony42

@digital-kam

@remoonysiriusly

@sweetstarryskies

@a-sunset-outside-my-window

@procrastinatingstuff

@annaliza999

@arasael

@a-pine-cone

@goldenprophetwrites

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

[lazaefair]

Stitch lays it out thoroughly, as usual, so there's no commentary I could add that would be better than just quoting what she says. I definitely recommend reading the whole thing, but here are a couple excerpts to give you an idea of the gist.

Excerpt 1:

Let’s return to the myth of preference. In fandom, as with online dating, folks think “preference” is a neutral word that shields them from the mere potential of having to interrogate why they seem to “prefer” white people as their faves. The thing is that this “preference” for white dudes isn’t all that neutral. A “preference” for white men is tied into centuries of racist propaganda that portrays whiteness as an ideal to the point where even people of color have trouble finding themselves or other people of color attractive.

[...]

Of course, that translates to fandom because fandom isn’t born in a vacuum. We don’t leave our ingrained prejudices in “the real world” when we log on to Tumblr or go for a scroll on the AO3. In fact, because many people in fandom curate their timelines to only show them their like-minded faves, they’re more likely to surround themselves with fans who think like they do and fanworks that reinforce the validity of their interests.

Excerpt 2:

Fantasies are just that – fantasies. On their own and in our heads, they can’t directly hurt people, and they provide the pleasure of partaking in the forbidden or the denied. For many people – especially marginalized people in unsafe or unhealthy positions in their daily lives – fantasies are all they have, and that’s important. However, in fandom spaces, fantasies don’t stay in people’s head, and they’re never on their own no matter what nonsense we fed about fandom and fiction not influencing/being influenced by reality. These fantasies come loaded with expectations, prior knowledge, stereotypes, trauma, politics, and a whole bunch of other stuff from the person fantasizing as well as other people who are aware of the fantasy. They get turned into fanworks that get thousands of views and hundreds of readers. After all, nothing we do or like or create is formed in a vacuum. In fandom spaces, fantasies that either exclude people of color entirely or reformat them as stereotypes for easy consumption (erotic and otherwise), are harmful because they are put forward without any awareness to a potential audience of thousands.

[anxiousdreamcore]

Hi would you like to draw Spider as street kid in modern au? I really like your Billy Batson art + the way you draw Spider so I think this combination would be so perfect 😅 I totally understand if not, anyway have a nice day/night!

BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU—

Ever since @naavispider responded to a prompt about street kid Spider meeting Quaritch, I was very interested in the idea so I def wanna draw that but for now, let me present you with some thing I came up with.

.

Street kid Spider modern AU

Imagine Miles Spider Socorro in the modern AU, escaping from the foster system bc he was treated very poorly and decided to gamble with the homeless life instead. He lives like that for maybe three-four years when Miles tracks him down. Because the boy is so good at parkour, he’s been given the street nickname of Spider, which the blonde is proud of and uses as his real name.

Spider lives in the attic of an abandoned mall that is so overgrown with unkept plants and trees that it’s more of a jungle. He takes care of many cats who made themselves at home there and as a result of being around them 24/7 develops some of their mannerisms, like head movements when curious, crouching and hissing when agitated. He doesn’t get much proper human contact until meeting the Sullies.

The Sully kids have moved in not long ago and crave adventure. The overgrown mall looks like a magical forest to them and in it they find Spider, a creature of the woods with his long, curly, matted hair, ripped and stitched together over a thousand times clothes, trinkets worn on his neck like necklaces, and the many cats surrounding him. Spider smells like soil and cat food and is initially scared of the four children (four bc you’d never catch Neteyam exploring abandoned buildings, he’s a good boy), ready to fight them like he fought every other street-dweller ever since ending up outside of care. Out here, the kids mostly end up either as addicts or in gangs, so Spider had no friends his age…until that fateful day.

From that point on, Spider becomes their secret friend and the siblings visit him every day. They love his bravery and sass, underneath which lies a compassionate heart of gold. They not only buy him necessities, but even help him shoplift on some days, not only for himself but for the street animals as well, plus old homeless people who huddle around makeshift fires on cold nights. They become sort of robins in their own right, and Jake, together with Neytiri, although suspect something, don’t know about the secret bestie their kids made.

Neteyam suspect much more and slowly puts the puzzle together. He is not thrilled.

All is well, life is looking up…until Kiri tells Spider one day, as they hang out in the roof, that she heard in the news of a certain “Miles Quaritch” getting out of prison, advising that the boy stays safe.

She stills when she sees the sheer look of horror on his face.

“Spider..?..”

“I…”

“…You know him?”

“Promise me you won’t freak out.”

“I-I won’t, I won’t.”

“…

I’m, like…his son.”

From that point on the drama quickly ramps up because Spider’s social cervices agent Norm has also tracked the kid down to this city, operating on rumours and rare camera footage of the boy. It doesn’t make the situation easier that Norm is also friends with Jake and keeps venting to him about how miserable and hurt Spider must be while the Sully kids are right there knowing where he hides.

And that’s pretty much the gist of this AU. For Spider, it’s a tense situation where he has to be sneakier than ever bc cps are close on his track and his father is even closer and he wants his son back. On both fronts, Socorro is threatened with a total loss of freedom and autonomy. The kids have to be sneaky too when they visit him…but no one can be sneaky enough to pass under Quaritch’s nose.

[cosmossystem]

on the topic of "sysmeds* have gotten louder recently" i just want to ramble and give my optimist perspective on it really because i dont think its the full story. (*and if you have a problem with me using that term, stick around and youll see why i use it.)

for context i formed as a fictive alter in about mid to late 2016. we were going through a lot of rapid splits and shutdowns at this time. many of the people who split would get forcibly dormant just days later, including me, and im lucky that i got out of it because i know a lot of those alters back then didnt. normally i wouldnt call all of us alters, but this was a very trauma-heavy time and we were going through heavily fragmented periods with dissociation and amnesia. we couldnt accept that we were plural.

anyway, point is that we were in plural spaces around then, and i took over as the host in december of that year as i broke up with my shitty in-system persecutor boyfriend (thats a story for a different day.)

so its 2017 and im 12, turning 13 soon, both inner and outer. we are a rapidly growing system of 13, no 20, no 41-- and then soon its back down to about 30, where it will stay for the next 8 years. but in the mean time, me and my new partner, jam, are learning to pilot a flesh-mech on the fly and letting ourselves be cringy tweenagers. we take over the tumblr blogs (most of which are anti-cgl blogs, which is very ironic considering some of our members now do that) and we start journalling. more importantly, in late 2017 i make my own blog and i start chatting. im basically the only person fronting about 70% of the time and im a huge yapper so it starts to take off.

i post art. i wont say what specifically i do or what fandom its for but the gist is that i run a requests blog. (im sure, if you were in a very specific sect of fandom around then, you could probably guess who i am and what blog i ran, but i doubt that will happen here. if it does, keep it to yourself.)

and i get really popular. im talkin hundreds, at one point thousands of followers. i wake up every day to a dozen asks and i fulfill them and i talk about my day with the people in my askbox. i tell them about my disability, about my boyfriends (later, husbands), and i tell them about my plurality. sometimes i get into the weeds of discourse, but i try not to. mind you, im about 13 or 14 and im the staunchest pro-queer, pro-endo, pro-tucute tween you would have ever met. still not quite all there on the pro-kink or pro-ship fronts, but that didnt cause me any issues at that point, and i wouldnt figure it out for another two or so years. anyway, people are usually nice to me and i am nice, if not a bit impassioned, back.

most of the people i speak to on this blog are singlets. but being that this particular fandom is mostly made of younger people like me (at this point anyway) many of them are curious about plurality or plural themselves. funny enough, while i remember discussing a lot of my plurality and explaining what it meant, i dont recall a whole lot of people arguing over it. no one ever sent me anon hate saying that i didnt exist and that didosddsdosod was the only way to be plural. i DO recall getting dogpiled on numerous occasions because this was during the height of ace discourse, mogai drama, and right at the rise of the whole "bi-lesbians-dont-exist" thing, so most of my controversy covered those.

but on several occasions i explained to singlets what a system was, and what it meant that i was "married" to my headmates, and i met so many people who said they were also plural, and i even helped a few realize they were plural. i truly look at that with a sense of pride and joy because how many people get to say they helped someone realize an important aspect of themself/ves? how many people are out there living their life as single when theyre actually more than one? how many didnt know that word existed until a stranger happily explained it to them, before realizing that word applied to them? its one thing to be gay and know youre gay, its another to go your entire life without realizing that being gay is an option until one day it dawns on you and the next youre out and proud. being plural is like that. its world-altering. most dont realize its an option until theyre told.

its not necessarily that system spaces didnt have their problems. from singlets, there was more curiosity. system spaces were still very much divided, but for the most part sysmeds stuck to their corner and mostly only argued when argued with. that word, mind you, did not exist at the time, we just called em "anti endos". i dont remember when or how that term was coined, but theres a good reason we call them that now, and its because they would say the same shit to me that transmeds would. regardless, i dont doubt that there were probably issues of them going out of their way to harass people, but i cant recall any and it never happened to us, so make of that what you will.

in those times, i experienced more transphobia, homophobia, and aphobia than i did anything else. when i did see sysmeds, it was in their own little bubble. i think the broader world didnt care so much about plurality and didnt know that sysmedicalism was a thing that could happen until maybe a couple of years ago now, and back then, it was treated purely with curiosity and intrigue instead of hate.

but "system spaces" have always had an anti-endo side, and i know this because i was one.

i havent said as much up until now, but in those early days of journaling, it was maybe for a year or so that we were anti-endo. couldnt tell you what changed really, but i think it was just a growing exhaustion of hearing about how terrible and awful and cruel and disgusting those evil, evil endos were. a lot of sysmeds like to proclaim their 'one true real genuine method' of being plural is the only one, and since the start we were never going to fit into that mold-- we were and are fictive heavy, in-system relationships, able to change forms in headspace, no dissociative amnesia, very little memory loss and practically no multi-consciousness, the works. but it was there and it wasnt very pretty. i am grateful i didnt internalize too much of it, didnt spread it very much, and we got out when we did because it was toxic enough back then and its worse now.

i should say that i dont think necessarily there is a rise in sysmedicalism similar to, say, the trend of label policing (a la bi lesbians) or ace discourse at its peak. while that does happen with minority labels when theyre suddenly thrust into the spotlight of the week, plurality has not had that moment yet (thank god, knock on wood it never does) and so far the only way this has happened is with a few isolated incidents that i know of, maybe im wrong. but i think its moreso that the plural community has grown to crazy heights with the rise of more people discovering it and understanding themselves, and naturally there would be a proportional rise in sysmedicalism too. the only main difference maybe is now that we have bigger platforms like tiktok and twitter, and we have prominent plural resources like pluralkit and simply plural, and with the rise in political unrest-- all of those things contribute to this rise in sysmedicalism. they have more visibility and a loud voice despite being the minority, and so they get their fifteen seconds of fame.

i guess i get it. theyre angry. theyre upset that the world is injust. they think theyre allowed-- encouraged, even, or that its their right-- to come into a community that has been building itself for the past several decades on inclusion and resource-sharing and cause a commotion. they have a disorder, they have trauma, they DESERVE to be listened to and they dont want to see their very debilitating disorder being mocked like this, or whatever it is they say. unfortunately they are the terfs of this community, and i can say that because ive been dealing with those too for the past decade also.

what im trying to get across is this: plurals have existed forever. this community has existed for decades at this point, maybe centuries. with every progressive movement there will be a counter-movement, and this one is no exception, they just happen to be particularly loud right now. as we grow in numbers, so does our visibility, and so does theirs. the plural community is fine. it continue to be fine. there is nothing happening right now to us that hasnt already happened a billion times before, and there is no sysmedicalist piece of shit on this planet that can destroy us. theyve been trying for as long as weve existed and they never succeed. keep going, keep telling people about us, keep existing and keep doing your best. be louder than them.

red

[porcelain-gal]

we have an alter who is interested in shifting , others in the system are content with where they are , but they are not .. do you have any tips for them ? ( their name is ciel btw ! )

MY PERSONAL ADVICE this is a direct to ciel (if that's alright! if not i'll change it) so i'll be using you/your/you're language in this! :3 keep in mind that i am not the best with words and i don't know everything since i'm still trying to revamp my own shifting journey and learn more about shifting in general! i recommend doing some personal research too on sites like here on tumblr, reddit, youtube, and amino!

first, let's talk about the difference between the 3D and 4D. i'm going to quote this amino post for the explanation!

"3D = the 3D is the physical plane. it contains everything you feel, see, hear, smell or taste. your body is physical, the world around you is physical. that's what you guys call "reality". well, surprise surprise, you are wrong. it is not the reality. it is the physical world. nothing more and nothing less."

"4D = the 4D is the actual reality. we do not see it (because we only see on the physical plane because that's the job) but it's extremely important. that's the place where our subconscious lives. every thought and assumption belongs to the 4D and so the reality gets created. everything you want gets added and you have it immediately. it only works in your favor! your subconscious only works in your favor. that's literally its job. to make you happy, keep you healthy and give you everything you want. very easy."

and that may sound confusing because you may daydream about fantasy worlds and such which is considered the 4D but those daydreams don't happen in reality for you. the reason why that is is because you are not affirming and persisting on that being your reality. you're just thinking about it for fun.

to shift, you simply affirm and persist with what you're affirming, you ignore the fact that you may not have or get it in the 3D and keep pushing said affirmations anyway and then boom, you have it. at least that's how i perceive it which ties into what i'll say next.

my biggest piece of advice is that you have to be aware that your journey is your journey and that shifting is what YOU make it to be. remember that thing i mentioned about affirming and persisting? yeah, that applies here to. if you constantly affirm that shifting is so complicated and difficult, it's going to be complicated and difficult. however if you affirm that it's easy as blinking or moving or walking or anything else, then it will be that easy. YOU MAKE YOUR OWN JOUNREY AND REALITY.

i personally myself hold this belief and apply it to both my manifestation and shifting journeys and it's worked very well for me (in regards to manifestation since i'm just now applying that to shifting.) i'm also an avid subliminal user so i also use those as well which definitely helps me (the majority are on youtube and there are THOUSANDS of subliminals for shifting and such. they essentially do the affirming for you, you just gotta do the persisting and disregarding the 3D part.)

in a nutshell, you just gotta make your journey and beliefs what you want them to be. do some trial and error, see what you like and what works for you! if you see shifting advice you don't like and don't want to apply to you, then don't let it! don't be afraid to be selfish about your shifting journey either because it's literally all about you and what you want!

but anyways, that's the gist of my advice! i'm gonna link some resources down below that may help you out and i wish you a lot of luck on your shifting journey, ciel!

RESOURCES THAT HAVE HELPED ME these are links to some of the stuff i've seen that have helped me with my journey and they may help you too! there's also some other stuff as well like scripting help and stuff! again, i do suggest looking for your own resources and formulate your own opinions and beliefs on other sites and by other creators!

. . . IMPORTANT

friendly reminder

ignore the 3d ≠ emotionless

"act as if you have it" hell no.

reminder about grounding in regards to shifting

you're not "going" anywhere, you're becoming aware

. . . LOA AND SHIFTING

be delusional!

shifting simplified

using the law of assumption to shift

law of assumption vs law of attraction

. . . SCRIPTING

reminder that scripting is NOT necessary! you can shift w/o scripting! :3

how to script

apps for scripting 1

apps for scripting 2

apps for fake socials

. . . XTRA

shifting method masterlist

manifestation opinions by honeytonedhottie

divider credits (ignore if u don't wanna see the divider under this)

if anyone else has some advice as well, feel free to drop some in the comments!