#this has been a bit of an issue for a while

[ddarker-dreams]

yan anaxa, mydei & phainon — handling jealousy.

It doesn’t take much to rouse Anaxa’s possessiveness. 

As a rational man, you’d expect him to operate on cold logic, but he’s prone to bouts of passion. Bizarrely, a person flirting with you is a pardonable transgression. He can’t fault people for succumbing to biological urges. What he can (and does) find fault with, however, is when others monopolize your time. He’s devised a simple system for issuing judgment. By his estimate, no one aside from him should take more than five minutes of your time. Anything beyond that is excessive. After all, he fulfills every role. Colleague, teacher, lover; he’s the complete package! So why would you need anyone else? 

Anaxa considers it a personal insult if you indulge others past their allotted time. This is made worse if you’re enjoying yourself. Why not tell him to leap into the black tide if you think so little of him? Despite the creative ideas swirling in his head, he won’t enact revenge on the guilty party. Instead, he hunts you down afterward. You’re then lectured on your ‘unbecoming conduct.’ He acts like people who seek your company are contagions you must avoid, lest you catch their stupidity. It’s best to let him finish his diatribe. Interrupting him will not go over well for you. 

Comparatively, Mydei is the most forgiving. 

People know to leave you alone. They assume their life would be forfeit if they so much as glance at you the wrong way. Mydei might not be the monster others assume him to be, but that doesn’t stop him from utilizing this misconception. Contrary to public perception, he won’t extinguish bloodlines over some youth trying to win your favor. No, stuff like that doesn’t get under his skin. It’s your former attachments he struggles with. The fact others hold a special space in your heart that’s permanently closed to him hurts more than a knife through the chest. 

He can protect you physically from threats, but he lacks what it takes to truly put you at ease. Try as he might to make himself less intimidating, you’ll always fear him. While this has its merits — such as discouraging subterfuge — he dislikes the terror in your eyes. In an ideal world, he’d prefer to see you smile or hear your laughter. Whoever brought you joy before earns his silent loathing. Mentioning them in passing guarantees putting him in a pensive mood. Mydei’s difficult to read, but with enough observation, you’ll come to recognize the correlation. 

If Phainon could, he’d handcuff your wrists together so you’d never be apart. 

Fortunately for you, the tricky logistics have dissuaded him from this plan. Your luck ends there. He always finds ways to hover around you, absorbing your attention like a sponge. Phainon’s reputation precedes him — in public, others are remiss to interrupt your outings when you’re together. They’d feel bad intruding on what little free time the Deliverer has. You’ll feel alone while surrounded by swaths of people who think they’re doing you a favor. Owing to this, there are rarely situations that could lead to him experiencing jealousy. 

The same can’t be said for inanimate objects. He’s gifted you an assortment of items in line with your interests, so that when he’s away, you can entertain yourself. When he returns and you don’t put them down, he can get a bit prickly. He’s been counting the days until he can see you again, only to lose to a book. Why read epics, when he can regale you with his equally thrilling adventures? It’d be obvious and reflect poorly on him as a man if he tossed out these belongings. This leaves him to compete with your hobbies for your attention, to varying success. 

[princelancey]

that article is purely based on rumours and reported as facts. The events outlined in it are completely contradicted by official FIA documents.

according to Benson Lance lost his temper once out of the car at the end of Q2 and started throwing shit around and yelling at team members, and it's implied that's how he 're-injured' his hand however the anonymous source refutes this.

HOWEVER, this was in the middle of quali, while the pitlane was crawling with cameras, both for TV and photography, and not a single one caught a glimpse of anything, considering one of the home drivers was in the same space there'd be plenty of cameras in the area. One would think a driver absolutely losing the plot in a garage would attract quite a bit of attention, and yet nothing.

On top of that, because Lance was called to the stewards for the post-quali procedure infringements the team had to supply the FIA with the internal garage footage to prove that lance A. wasn't shoving weights into his socks to cheat the weight and more importantly B. actually suffering a medical issue and headed off to the doctor as he claimed. The FIA viewed this footage and deemed it to be completely in line with what Aston Martin and Lance reported to them, their only criticism being that the team did not inform them it was a medical issue quickly enough (an absolutely valid critic)

IF in fact Lance had thrown a temper tantrum in the garage before leaving for the team doctor it would have been in that footage, and we know from 2023 that the FIA will intervene in such cases and summon the drivers for unacceptable behaviour. This has not happened in this instance, the FIA made no mention of anything like it in their document explaining Lance's absence.

What is the most frustrating thing about it all is that despite this evidence people will believe an article written by a 'journalist', with a long reputation for being unreliable, that has no solid sources, no evidence, and is actually contradicted by official documents. They'll use it to direct more hate towards Lance and call for him to banned, dropped, replaced or worse. Sensationalism and rumour will win out over common sense.

[thethinkingaurora]

Or like, we could idk, call me crazy here, just not assume, and like let men be feminine or masculine while still being men and let women be masculine or feminine while still being women

I am a trans woman and no, what the fuck this is just a person saying not to assume. And it is not in anyway saying that trans women shouldn’t exist, it’s saying not assume and it’s also not saying that trans people can’t be trans unless already out, that’s entire new sentence and thought, and also what from that post is saying that it’s not giving men the room to be not boxed into traditional masculinity?

And another issue with assuming, what if it’s a passing trans-guy who just wants to be a bit feminine and now he’s being called a girl and misgendered entirely, or a passing trans woman who dresses a little masculine for a change and then also gets misgendered

I hear, so so so much abuse to trans men on this site (which the actual OP is I’d like to point out), for no good reason, of course trans-women get it too and I’m no way saying that we don’t but I see so much more against trans men, and that’s what this seems to be (the repost that is)

And like hey, go check out @supermanstoddlerleash and they’re just a normal person, it’ll say they’re not there in search bar but hit go to blog anyways, and then don’t send mindless hate, look at the rest of the goddam post that this is cropped from and the following posts afterwards

In conclusion, this isn’t transmisogyny, what’s happened here is someone looking out for abuse and then being the victim, even if you’re sticking with that mindset, you don’t have to block every single goddam person, to take the assumption that the post is transmisogynistic but not at face value implies a lot of people will see the post at face value and then like & reblog and move on, they don’t need to be blocked, they’re just a little ignorant

But the key message of the original post has been missed, which is not to assume and for the entire scenario that the reposter is operating in you have to, because it’s based on assumption

This has been Aurora with her first opinionated post in I don’t even know how long, thank you for reading

I want to stress how pervasive transmisogyny is on this site. This post has thousands of notes:

How am I supposed to take hours of my time blocking everyone who interacted with this? How am I supposed to be able to defend myself when thousands of TME people have made it clear they are opposed to my very existence? What am I supposed to do given TME people are completely indifferent to the situation and are forcing me and every other trans woman to fend for ourselves?

[rafeslvbug]

introducing…pediatrician!rafe

back to basics!! (physical)

height: 6”3 at minimum, the type of height where he can be assertive if needed with other doctors, or appear gentle to patients if he kneels down. some of the boys he has as patients, always say they aspire to be like “doctor cameron” and the dads are always envious of his height, as men are.

age: early 30s. had to do years of training && education. considerably young in his respective field, but widely praised for his efficiency and ability.

build: works out daily. believes in keeping peak physical fitness to take care of his patients. scrubs fir too tightly over his muscles. could be prone to ripping. mothers often find themselves staring a bit too long at their kid’s doctor.

looks!! (specific)

arms: consistent with any !rafe au, he’s got massive arms. but this is because

- a: to carry patients if need be (though he works with children) - you never know when emergencies might come up,

- b: he finds that having bigger arms is more comforting for little children when he has to hold them

- c: has to handle hospital equipment that might be heavy, and he’s a gentleman so he’s always helping people carry equipment if he’s not busy.

pager && watch: his pager is forever on him, not that he has no life outside of work, just that he cares so much about his patients. he won’t hesitate to cancel a day off for the sake of his patients. his watch is of course because of how much rafe is invested in his fitness and health. needs it to track his workouts and steps etc. or he also likes how convenient it is, to access emails or messages etc.

personality

patient: eternally patient. during arguments. meltdowns. when the baby’s been crying all night. all calm words and gentle movements. never yells. controls his anger and doesn’t make huge outbursts. even when stressed (unless it reaches an extremely bad point - this is rare)

multi-tasking: can put the baby to sleep in one arm and type up an article/report with the other hand while in bed. listens to research podcasts while cooking dinner so he doesn’t have to find time to do it later. efficiency is key. his job is already time consuming, and he wants to make sure he has as much free time as possible.

attentive: rafe’s busy. he’s always working overtime or being called away because of an unexpected patient issue. but when he’s at home with you? his pager isn’t off..but it’s not on his person all the time. he’s able to maintain work-life balance and he’ll listen to everything you have to say about your day. he loves your daughter to bits, and frequently says she’s his, always checking up on her and making sure she’s healthy (as doctors habitually do)

job

specialist position: neonatologist - someone who mainly looks after premature babies’ development and intensive care for infants.

salary: $350,000+ (excluding bonuses and potential to increase)

reputation: young, but well respected. considered one of the best in his field in the hospital. always gets compliments from patients, and dedicated to his work.

likes

stress-free days without overtime. he lives for any ounce of free time, no matter how satisfied his job makes him. likes to be home, likes having time go on hikes or play with your baby.

getting called your baby’s father. he loves it when he gets to say he’s the dad, or when you call him the dad. even if he’s not biologically her dad, he’s the only one who’s been present. adopts her relatively quick.

picking your daughter up from daycare. loves the way her face lights up when she sees him, how she’ll run as fast as her little legs can take her and getting to scoop her up into the car.

when you come to him for help. whether it’s with your daughter or anything tbf. he loves helping, loves being the person you rely on.

dislikes

when you go to a different doctor for help with your daughter. if anything starts arguments it’s that. he wants to be the one to look after her, because it’s all he’s done since she was born. he thinks of himself as her father, and wants you to too. a father looks after his daughter.

patients who bring in their children for dumb reasons. a common cold? wasting his time because they act like they’ve never had a cold before. children in his care are in critical condition, not basic colds, and these people are usually insufferable because they force themselves to the top of his list of priorities.

your ex. never even met him, never even seen him. hates him. loves that he left in a way, because it means he could be in your life, but hates the man for what he put you through.

pet names

he gives you: baby, sweetheart, babygirl, honey, busy lady

you give him: doc, handsome, honey, baby, darling

what he’ll call your daughter: sweetie, pumpkin, little lady,

[keirareidss]

Mean!reader shoves her fingers in Spencer’s mouth when she wants him to shut up when he’s rambling….. do what with that you will….. I need something of this

I'm obsessed. Literally, I love this. Thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy! (decided to make this a blurb because I'm working on bigger fics right now, but I did still really want to write this)

wc: 0.8k

You loved Spencer's rambling. Of course you did, it's part of what made you fall in love with him, His ability to be so passionate about what he's interested in. But sometimes, it was a tad bit much for you. Especially when you were trying to make a move on him.

"But, really, when you think about it, the 'it's all relative' aphorism is not that applicable especially in broader terms-" You kissed a long his neck as he spoke but he wasn't deterred. "The main issue lies in confusing 'relative', which is dependent on context or comparison, with 'subjective', which is based on perception or personal opinion. But while many experiences are subjective that doesn't mean they are relative-" You decided to try a different tactic, moving your kisses to his lips.

He hums against you and you know that means he has another thought brewing that he wants to tell you about. You pull his bottom lip in between your teeth, determined to prolong the kiss to avoid another ramble that will keep you from your seduction. But poor, poor, adorable Spencer doesn't realize that.

"There's actually another popular misconception that philosophy is directly related to-"

"Spencer..." You cut him off in a sultry voice, using two fingers to tilt his chin up. He looks into your eyes, his own going wide. You slide your two fingers up his jaw to his bottom lip, tracing it.

"I-"

"Shh, baby." You cut him off, pushing your fingers past his lips, his tongue finding them immediately out of instinct. "Don't speak." His mouth closed around your digits, sucking dutifully as he looked up at you with half lidded lust-filled eyes. You slowly pulled your spit-soaked fingers out of his mouth, a string a saliva following. You brought your hands down to his waistband, unzipping his pants. He swallowed, saying your name on a whimper.

"Please. Touch me."

"Good job, Spence. You're getting better at that." You'd been trying to teach him to tell you what he wants in a rather... unconventional way. And by that you mean edging him until he finally spits out the words. But it seems he's learned and for that, you'd reward him.

You pulled down his pants and boxers, his cock springing out. You instantly grasped in your fist, stroking up and down and using his own spit as lube. He moans at the feeling, his hips jerking.

"I- I want- ngh, please..."

"Come on, use your words, genius, you were talking so much before." You teased and he whined.

"I want- I want your mouth." You grinned, leaning forward and slanting your lips over his, purposefully misunderstanding him.

"You want my mouth here?" You asked, barely pulling back from the kiss. He shook his head, breathing heavy.

"N-no."

"Where then?"

"I- I want it... I want your mouth on- on my cock." He stammers out. He blushed instantly at the vulgar terminology, squeezing his eyes shut. You chuckled, moving down his legs until you were able to bend down. You flicked your tongue out, licking at the head of his cock and he jolted.

"If you want me to suck you off, you're going to have to open your eyes, baby." You said and he huffed out a breath, forcing his eyes open to look down at you. He knew he wouldn't last long. he never did when you made him watch you but he hadn't realized that that's want you wanted. You had a bet with yourself to see how fast you could make him cum. Your best time was 56 seconds. But that's a story for another time.

Once his eyes were on you, you wrapped your lips around his length, slowly sinking down on it. He shuddered, letting out a long moan. No matter how many times you sucked him off, you never got used to the sounds he made. They were so needy and desperate, it made you wet just thinking about it.

You bobbed your head up and down, drawing said needy noises from the man above you, circling your ruthless tongue over his tip. You let your teeth graze his shaft as you moved your head down and then up again.

"Ah! Shit, I'm close, I'm gonna-" And then he was cumming down your throat, letting you swallow him up dutifully, spit dribbling down your chin. You sit up, wiping your mouth and grinning at the man twitching and panting before you. You check your watch.

"Damn it." 72 seconds. You'd have to try to beat your record another time. You brushed Spencer's hair back from his forehead, looking into his eyes.

"You're amazing." He murmured, entirely fucked out. You press a loving kiss to his lips.

"Thank you, baby. Now, let's put that mouth of yours to good use."

Taglist: @superbeaglewitch, @perfectgoopfishuniversity-blog, totallynotabuckybarnessimp, @dramioneforevertilltheend. @cynbx, @diminombre

[roamthefarlands]

I agree with your metaphor , but the difference is that owning or having art is a luxury, not a necessity, while things like clothes and tools that were once made exclusively by artisans are often necessities. Factories make cheaper products so large numbers of people can have those needs met. There are of course. countless issues with mass production and its effects and the effect industrialization had on artisans, but industrialization started to solve issues and provide for people.

Ai exists to make art for people. And I believe that the making of the art is the most important part of art. It's a machine not made to make the hard parts of life easier but to make the good parts of life about the production of product.

I dont want a machine to dance for me, i want to dance, i dont want a machine to talk to people for me, i want to talk to people, and i dont want a machine to make art for me and for me to see, i want to make art and see art made by others.

As for misinformation, youre 100% correct. The thing i worry about isn't propaganda though, it's the volume of images that aren't real that just exist now. How will people be able to know for sure how the world looks, how animals and plants from around the world look if for every one picture of a real frog there are ten ai generated images that are similar but a bit off? Like, we should be able to reasonably trust what we see, and while misinformation has always been an issue, the scale at which it can now be produced is worrying.

Photography started out by imitating portraiture painting before developing a lenguage of its own medium and cinema started out by imitating theatre plays before developing a language of its own medium and AI is starting out by imitating illustration and there is something that I want us all to do

[glisteningmirror]

Vee Redesign

As a follow-up to this post, here's a drastic redesign concept that attempts to fix the issues I have with Vee from a character design angle. Notes/elaboration under the cut.

Most obvious changes are ones done to better convey that she's a vintage gameshow host; a proper suit, antennae bent to resemble well-kept hair and a schmooze-y expression

Pallet has been expanded to have more diverse and distinctive colors, with a distribution that hopefully breaks up her features and draws the eye a bit better

The computer-ish robot angle has been cut out entirely, and her design reflects this. She has more details on her head to make the fact that she's a television more clear, and her face, while still a screen, has its green oscilloscope-esque appearance replaced with an organic-looking b&w one

I recommend you read the last post for my reasonings, but with this hypothetical Vee, I'm envisioning that her writing would be different. I'm thinking that she's a more charismatic, smooth-talking presence; probably to the point of coming off as smarmy at times. She's probably still got insecurities and a temper, but her sense of showmanship allows her to put on cool front when need-be

I'm in no way claiming that this design is objectively better than the official one -- nor that it's even good -- this is just my way of doing something constructive with my complaints.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Kesselring and telling him you’re pregnant

TW: Issues with conceiving/fertility issues Requests are open for specific people only, please see my pinned post for details :) Writing Masterlist

Two little pink lines.

It's interesting, how two tiny lines can change everything, how they can be so important. You've been waiting for months to see those two lines...trying and failing time and time again to get pregnant. The trying was fun, sure, but there were only so many times you could get a negative test result before it started to get to you and started to feel like there was something wrong.

It was getting to the point of frustrating. Michael was disappointed each time, God, he wanted to be a dad really bad, but you? God, you felt like your heart was being ripped out, like something was wrong with you. You were starting to feel like you were broken...but the doctors just told you to be patient, it could take time. It didn't help when you saw people around you seemingly able to get pregnant with ease, it felt like you were the problem.

Michael was good about it, always reassuring you that it was fine, it was natural for it to take time, that it wasn't your fault. It takes two to tango or to make a baby as he often said and just because you weren't getting pregnant didn't mean it was you that had the issues, it could have been him, it could just have been that time was required.

So you're a little shocked when you finally see those two lines...your instant reaction is to tell Michael except he's not around. He wasn't going to be back from his roadie for another day or two and this didn't feel like the sort of thing you were supposed to tell your husband over the phone.

So you do the responsible thing. You go to the doctors and get another pregnancy test done, final confirmation that you are in fact pregnant, 6 weeks to be exact. You hold that information in and try to act normal in your evening calls with Michael even though you're desperate to tell him.

You want to do something cute to tell him, a jersey with Daddy across the back or something, but there's no time. Not between work and Michael being at the end of his roadie. So you plan instead to just tell him, a buzz of excitement and nerves filling you because God, you've both been waiting for this for so long.

When he walks through the door after the roadie you try to greet him like normal; a kiss to the cheek, a big hug, a breathing in of his cologne, taking in the fact he's back and he's here. But, Michael's always been good at reading you. He notices right away that something is off.

"What's wrong? You look like something is wrong? Did something happen while I was gone?" He's already looking around the house behind you, seeing what's out of place, what's gone wrong. Big palms on your shoulders, reassuring, protective like he thinks there's a burglar in the house.

"Nothing is wrong...far from it." You wrap your arms around his waist, chin resting in the centre of his chest to look at him, a small smile starting, excited. Excited because you can't wait for his reaction. Excited because this is everything you've both been waiting for for months now.

"Oookay?" His worry fades to a smile, a little confused, but still a smile, brown eyes staring, waiting for you to tell him more, to stop being so cryptic.

"I'm pregnant."

Michael blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. Like his brain has short circuited a little bit, brain stopping to process the fact you've just told him the words he's been waiting to hear for months.

"A-are...are you serious?" Lips parting, licking his bottom lip, breathing coming out slow and shallow like he doesn't quite believe you yet.

"I'm pregnant, Michael." You start to smile as you watch the way that Michael starts to process it, starts to realise what you're actually saying.

"You're pregnant."

"I'm pregnant."

"You're pregnant!" It's like it suddenly catches up to him, like his brain finishes processing because you're suddenly encapsulated in his arms, pulled tight against him as he picks you up for a moment, off your feet and spins you. It makes you feel slightly nauseous but you can't help but laugh, smacking his shoulder to put you down.

When you're back on solid ground Michael is leaning down towards you, forehead pressing against yours, nose nuzzling your own, the biggest, goofiest grin on his face.

"I'm going to be dad..."

"Yeah." You're grinning now, he's grinning too. Two goofy idiots just smiling at each other like you've won the lottery, like you'd had all your prayers answered because well, you have.

"You're gonna be a mom."

"Yeah."

"Fuck..." It's like he's still just processing and you don't mind. Don't mind the quiet, don't mind the silent way he stares at you, all the love in the world in his eyes because you get it. You totally get it. It's almost too good to be true but oh, is it good.

[queercoshon]

Here's the full thing. I do plan on making 2 other versions of this, one of them more feedism-oriented. This one is purely intox, and the first time I've done so, so please let me know what you think!

Friday night is when you can revert back to your true nature.

And that is a drunk hedon.

You spend all week primmed up and put together, managing the responsibilities of a job, a household, a social life. You're relied on to make decisions, to follow them through, and subsequently handle any consequences that may arise.

But after your first toke and shot of the weekend, none of it is your problem. You feel the tension unwind from your shoulders, your back slouch a little more into the couch, and your pinned up smile melt into a real one. Now you can let go.

You could put on the tv, or listen to music and make art, or just scroll the internet, and let your desires take over.

You take a hit of your joint, sipping your first drink of the night between inhales. The smell of smoke wafts away along with the day's worries. The drink is chugged back to time it with the last embers burning out.

The high starts to screw your smile sideways, and you quickly take down another drink. Now is when the fun challenge of the weekend begins; get fucked up as quickly as possible but delay passing out as long as possible.

You feel the alcohol start to spread warmth from your stomach up to your cheeks, but it's not working fast enough, so naturally you need a shot. And maybe another, just in case.

You set up your space with easy access to your bong, edibles, a case of cans (24 pack; you've learned a 6 pack won't get you to 8pm), the still mostly-full bottle of vodka, and any other essentials like snacks and water.

You set up your movie and pull up its drinking game rules, and crack another can.

You drink more than the rules dictate, and open another one fifteen minutes in. An edible ends up in your mouth. That'll be a nice surprise in about half an hour.

As you watch you feel your mind start to get fuzzy. The lights of the tv are a little softer, the jokes a little funnier, the couch a little comfier. High energy thoughts can't even enter your brain, so they can't nag at the back of your mind and dampen this evening.

Close to the end of the movie your first bout of hiccups wracks your body, making you hold your belly and giggle. You've made a tradition now where as soon as the first hiccups stop, you take another shot. This "shot" is you chugging from the vodka bottle, going until the burn in your throat is too much.

Finding the remote to put the next movie on is hard, and so is operating the buttons, but you have lots of practice now and get it with little issue.

There's a drinking game for this movie too, but it's a lot harder to remember the rules and sometimes remember that you're playing. Don't worry, you're still drinking at a steady pace. Such a steady pace that halfway through the second movie you start to question what the hell is happening (you've seen this movie a few times already.) You giggle as you try to follow the plot, and you giggle as your body fights gravity trying to reach the bong.

Several rips later you lay melted into the couch, red eyes staring at the flickering tv. You think your mouth is dry from cottonmouth, but you've also been sitting there slack jawed and drooling just a bit. Alternating between your water and beer is remedying it, but it's also blurring your vision and sending heat to every extremity.

How long has the movie been finished? The screen has been recommending what to watch next for a while, but you've just clued in on that. Time to move on to something else.

The cans littered on the couch clank as you shift your body to get up, rocking up and nearly tumbling onto the coffee table.

Whoaaa, everything is swaying, like being on a cruise ship in choppy water. Miraculously, you bend over and pick up the half empty beer case without ending up on the floor. You put the vodka bottle in the box as well, having enough mind to keep one hand free to catch your falls.

One step, two steps, a little stumble to the side and back. The bedroom feels so far away. A particularly dangerous wobble makes you hug the hallway wall, using your shoulder to guide your melting body.

You make a quick stop to the bathroom and as you wash your hands you get a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are bloodshot, but it's hard to see that as your eyelids droop, adding to the doped up look of your screwed smile. Your mirage sways because you do, the act of standing still far too complicated a task to manage.

Walking isn't any easier, but you make it to your bedroom without incident. You turn on some fairy lights and some music and lay next to the beer case in bed. Everything swaying gives the comforting inertia of laying in a hammock being rocked by the breeze. Breathing comes easy as you fully relax, only able to feel the dull fuzziness of intoxication.

You want more. So you sit up just enough not to choke as you drink and brink the vodka to your lips. That burns feels like pleasure now, and the shudders that traverse your body when you finish spur you on to drink more.

You scroll online lazily and admire everyone else getting wrecked tonight. A bold competitiveness rises up in you, determined to stay ahead of the others. You sit up more so you can feel the effects of the alcohol more, and it doesn't take long before you start to careen sideways, booze zapping all ability to stay upright.

Someone challenges you to walk to the other side of your room and back, and to chug vodka halfway through, if you make it that far.

Your legs tangle as you try to roll off the bed, but you manage to land on your feet. And then your butt as you fall back onto the bed. Attempt two gets you up, but you nearly topple over when you lean to pick up the bottle.

The world is a tilting balancing beam, and you're sure you're going slide off sizeways. You stumble sideways, back and forth, so much that you easily double the amount of steps it would have taken to get there in a straight line.

The wall meets your shoulder unceremoniously, and you lean on it like your life depends on it. Your balance certainly does; there's no way you're freestanding anymore.

The burn of vodka is triumphant, as is the spittle connecting between the neck of the bottle and your poisoned lips, as is your first step back towards the bed.

The second step is where you falter. No longer do you have the support of the wall, so your body quickly accepts help from the floor. Luckily you don't buy good vodka in glass, so the plastic bottle bounces harmlessly away.

Crumpled and dumb, you lay there giggling and wiggling, the pleasure of being so drunk and out of control brushing over your skin. Reaching for the bottle takes a few tries between your compromised folded position and your heavy disobeying arm, but you manage and tip it back, getting most in your mouth, but a good amount dribbles down your cheek and chin.

Hic! Your body jerks from the sudden spasm, limbs following through with the last of the twitch. Hic!

You try to roll over, but you can't even move you head and keep your eyes open at the same time. Gravity pins your shoulders back, forbidding enough momentum to get to your side.

So you just lay there, an entire bottle of vodka and countless beers pulsing through your veins and the power of joints, edibles, and the bong clouding your stalling brain. You don't need to think, you just need to feel.

You feel your head loll side to side, giggling as the world shifts. You feel your diaphragm hitch with every pesky hiccup and the contents of your stomach slosh with every involuntary movement. Most of all, you feel heat wash over your body in crashing waves, soaking your mind in nothing but pleasure, sending sensitive tingles down your spine, and a lusting desire for more.

Your beer is on the bed, and your toys are in the drawer beside it. Getting there might actually be impossible. For now, at least.

Conciousness starts to slip away from you, and you make a promise to yourself to move once you come to. You'll still be drunk as a skunk and unable to walk, but you might be able to crawl by then. Then you can get a head start on your Saturday activities.

You're so out of control that you're passing out on your floor, unable to move the few feet to your bed. Hedonistically sloshed for pleasure, but so fucked up that you can't do anything after the build up. Moans spill out of you as you try to squirm, just making yourself frustratingly more turned on.

But those moans quickly silence, because your debauchery has finally completely taken you over, leaving you passed out on the hard floor, drool dripping from your gaping mouth, eyes rolled back, and despite your state, arm reaching towards what should have been your next drink. What will be your next drink. When you're sober enough to move, but not enough to think.

There's no need to think.

[samhadjblog2]

But I just don't get it. You are taking what is such a conflicting and important moment for this character and dumbing it down into a hash-tag, rather than letting yourself really think about the story they are trying to tell.

The issues I think a lot of people had with Vi becoming an Enforcer is that it isn't explored enough. All it took was one attack at the memorial and that changed things. When the choice to become an enforcer should of been something that took the course of an act.

She can't see her little sister in Jinx, only the violent and deranged terrorist who abducted Caitlyn and tried to convince Vi to murder her. But she loves her, and is crumbling under the guilt of who she has become. She is watching Caitlyn sink deeper and deeper beneath the waves of her grief and anger with each passing day, the same Caitlyn who once saved Vi's life and stood up for the Undercity in front of the Council themselves. Vi hates the Enforcers for what they have done to her and her people but it's the only way she can stay be Caitlyn's side, and be present for Piltover's hunt for Jinx, however it ends. Not to mention the fact that even though they are destroying the Chem Barons, and Shimmer, both of which are unquestionably negative forces in Zaun, for wearing the uniform at all Vi has to know her own people will look at her like a traitor, no matter how much good she does for them.

Its just seems a bit off that Vi after seeing Jinx kill so many people still reach out to her and still consider themselves as sisters. And to me I think this would of been more interesting if Vi were upset about what Jinx has done and feel responsible for her actions while at the same time still consider Jinx her sister and gradually over the coarse of a season slowly start to see her sister in a more negative light.

And top of all of this, what you just described was just a storyline in a single episode. When all of this should of been a season in of itself.

There is absolutely zero evidence that exposure in the way they use it is fatal or even harmful long term.

The fact that Viktor was exposed to it due to a long amount of time is an example of the Grey being dangerous. Not saying its lethal however its still not 100% safe.

Amanda Overton confirmed their strikes were strategic to a pinpoint.

The Grey is a gas, its not something that can be controlled. On top of that the Chem-baron's use child labor so that doesn't mean no one innocent wasn't harmed. (Also the scene where people were coming to Ekko's hide out to avoid the chembaron-war was edited to cut out the people coughing).

Jinx is a terrorist who likes to blow things up and Vi confirms they used it to clear the streets and keep people safe. The logic is clear.

I thought you said they only focused on the Chembaron's ? Doesn't "Clearing the streets" indicate that they are harming people. On top of that why not just tell people to keep in doors to avoid Jinx ? Wouldn't that be easier.

Every Chem Baron foot soldier on their knees coughing rather than shooting is a life saved on either side

And we barely explore the Chem-baron's war and so a lot of these issues never felly

The alternative to the strike team was a full invasion of hex-tech wielding Enforcers not a five-person strike team travelling mostly in the vent systems and only emerging to fight when necessary.

And both things were equally dangerous. Releasing the Grey onto the streets still would harm people and would have a lot of affects on the residents of Zaun. (I'm not saying this as a Caitlyn anti, i'm saying this as "Arcane is a show where every action has a negative reaction".)

Ekko was in Zaun when they were. If you think he would have been hanging out with Heimerdinger playing with bubbles and chilling while they were doing something truly terrible to the Undercity, I urge you. WATCH THE SHOW BEFORE YOU TALK ABOUT IT.

Here's the issue we never get to see Ekko know about any of this, we don't see interact with Vi or confront her becoming an enforcer, we don't see them talk about the plan to use the Grey. And this isn't some "The show isn't explaining things to me" critique its an issue in that the show is glossing over vital moments that "should of been explained"

And so a lot of the issues people had with this story is that it glossed over what should of been a much larger story that explore the ramifications in a larger detail.

The Enforcer

**Spoilers For All Of Arcane **

"Traitor!"

"Bootlicker!"

"All for a girl she's known for a few days!"

"ACAB! COPAGANDA!"

As with everything in this show, there are plenty of loud, click-bait takes on this part of Vi's story. And people are certainly entitled to them. But I just don't get it. You are taking what is such a conflicting and important moment for this character and dumbing it down into a hash-tag, rather than letting yourself really think about the story they are trying to tell. If all you are after when you consume media is an excuse to throw buzzwords around, reality TV is probably more your speed. Just for a moment lets try to consider the different dimensions of what Vi is dealing with in this situation.

Vi is caught between her little sister who she no longer recognizes, the woman she loves who is being consumed by grief and rage, her identity as a daughter of Zaun, and her own feelings.

She can't see her little sister in Jinx, only the violent and deranged terrorist who abducted Caitlyn and tried to convince Vi to murder her. But she loves her, and is crumbling under the guilt of who she has become. She is watching Caitlyn sink deeper and deeper beneath the waves of her grief and anger with each passing day, the same Caitlyn who once saved Vi's life and stood up for the Undercity in front of the Council themselves. Vi hates the Enforcers for what they have done to her and her people but it's the only way she can stay be Caitlyn's side, and be present for Piltover's hunt for Jinx, however it ends. Not to mention the fact that even though they are destroying the Chem Barons, and Shimmer, both of which are unquestionably negative forces in Zaun, for wearing the uniform at all Vi has to know her own people will look at her like a traitor, no matter how much good she does for them.

I have written about and analyzed the use of The Grey from every angle I can think of. I'm absolutely not breaking it all down again here in depth. For a few quick points:

There is absolutely zero evidence that exposure in the way they use it is fatal or even harmful long term.

Amanda Overton confirmed their strikes were strategic to a pinpoint.

Jinx is a terrorist who likes to blow things up and Vi confirms they used it to clear the streets and keep people safe. The logic is clear.

Every Chem Baron foot soldier on their knees coughing rather than shooting is a life saved on either side

The alternative to the strike team was a full invasion of hex-tech wielding Enforcers not a five-person strike team travelling mostly in the vent systems and only emerging to fight when necessary.

Ekko was in Zaun when they were. If you think he would have been hanging out with Heimerdinger playing with bubbles and chilling while they were doing something truly terrible to the Undercity, I urge you. WATCH THE SHOW BEFORE YOU TALK ABOUT IT.

All that being said, I am not ignorant of the fact that Zaun has suffered lifetimes due to the pollution caused by Piltover's practices, including their air before the Kiramman vent system was created. So I'm sure Vi IS extremely conflicted. But maybe, just maybe, its time consider the possibility that the reason "her fascist ass girlfriend gasses a city and she doesn't care" is because Vi knows they are making the best they can out of a HORRENDOUS situation. (and Caitlyn isn't a fascist and didn't gas a whole city but I get that isn't what we are doing here).

This is not about trying to convince you they were right to do what they did, or wrong. It is not to convince you to love Vi or Caitlyn. It is simply to say that the heart of a story is in it's characters. Continue to dumb-down, brush off, reduce, generalize, and smash these characters into small easily digestible pieces you can analyze in the time it takes to tie your shoes, and you will only cheat yourself out of the full experience stories like this can bring. They do mean something. They matter. Even if we like to pretend they don't anymore.

As always thank you for reading. Anyone who takes the time to do so is more appreciated than you can know. Feel free to leave your thoughts if you choose as well! And keep standing up for stories that matter.

See yall next time.

[bunannabun]

as a whovian since 2009

ive NEVER spread hate on anything the series did regardless of my opinion on their decisions and plot holes and whatnot, and boy oh boy is not easy being a whovian ive been accepting everything with an open heart, yeah you wanna retcon shit? you wanna leave a plot open for ever? you wanna over do nostalgia? alright, i'm here to have fun and love all the things that made me fall in love with the series, i can ignore things that were not my taste, DW was never about being a flawless production anyway, it was always about HEART but you know what? I can only be so patient for so long! This finale has a list of things that made me watch the whole thing in denial, not wanting to believe my own eyes, trying my best to trust the show until the end just to end up in desbelief and as frustrated as i was watching Star Wars episode 9. And you know what, I could still take all of this shit but i can only be so patient when it comes to dealing with BIPOC characters with so much cowardice. So take my hand and let's take remember how RTD writes them? I will not even take into account the annoying outcast boyfriend of female (white) lead, Mickey, or the let's play with Asian stereotypes but hide them under an alien mask, Chanto. let's look at the big ones, shall we? Martha Jones - had one great episode centered on herself as the great heroine at the end, and it's implied she becomes this motherfucking cool UNIT agent that we don't get to see much. Collaborates with torchwood, etc. BUT, her own series: always is standing on Billie shadows, always rejected by the 10th for not being Rose, always humiliating herself for a one sided love, like despite her brains and her skills her life was revolved around that alien man. No so much important as she could be (she had potential to be greater than Billie even) compared to all other companions on RTD era including the ones that last one episode. and that's it for RTD 1.... RTD 2: he did some nice things: got our first officially Black Doctor (remember we still have Jo Martin pending, no one knows her story yet), he did an entire episode with 100% black cast taking the Doctor to Africa (bc Ncuti asked). First time 100% non-white Tardis, as Belinda Chandra becomes companion. Great. BUT

instead of introducing our first black doctor normally, there's a twist! He had to share his big moment, big reveal, big spotlight with David Tennant - for fan service purposes. Has our first black doctor sharing the tardis with a white blond girl (and don't take me wrong, i love Ruby, just stay with me here a bit), alrite, she has a black wonderful family, super well written, super charismatic. 2nd companion Belinda. Don't even have a whole series for herself to shine. I don't feel her like a companion at all since she don't even agree to be there and it's all only circumstantial. She's a great character, but don't show so much grow. Disappear for a whole episode that we have Ruby back (the episode is great, but again, keep with me here cause i have a point). Ruby is the one that saves the day on the finale (both Wish and Poppy issues) while Belinda is more like a background character. The Rani: once again, comes from a white character and has to share her big entrance with her. Is underwritten has always to share screen time with Ms. Flood and presumably dies at the end while her white counterpart survives.

Jo Martin is not RTD's fault, but he DID had time to fix this and chose not to. We had literally seconds of her onscreen. Then we have Ncuti regeneration. Beautiful scene, beautiful moment with Jodi, but come on! Not even Eccleston had so little screen time as the doctor as he had! And he had to regenerate on a blonde woman only for fan service purposes again??? Can we see a pattern here? BlPOC RTD's characters always stands on white characters shadows, they're always underused, always have to share their spotlight and this kinda make it seems that all the positive representation stuff he had done in the series was for show this is sad, is frustrating and i can't tolerate this anylonger quoting Eccleston here: "Sack Russel T Davies" (i mean absolutely no hate to anyone from the cast, great team, great actors, only love to them)

[thedarkqueen14]

Smurfette pre true blue spell+Smurf band before they became Smurf band!!!!

Stories behind each member below! Its Gonna be long af

Reverse is the product of Vanity's reflection coming to life,but instead of harboring the exact same personalities as his og counterpart,Reverse bears the opposite: being unconfident,very shy and hates himself,and he isn't exactly open about his feelings,either.

Reverse doesn't like looking into mirrors,being reminded of Vanity and doesn't like the fact that he is Vanity's clone. Reverse tries to be different,going from one identity to another,but none seem to stick to him.

Being tired of the constant mistakes smurfs make between him and Vanity,along with being insecure,Reverse ran away into the forest. Coincidentally;he met Rocky,who was alone with his gem collection;and Meteorite,who ran away as well. The three bonded over sharing their issues and spent many hours having fun in the forest

The idea of a band came when the three wanted to express themselves through music,which is also a perfect opportunity for Reverse to finally become a brand new identity,by the name of Glammy Smurf!

Rocky was named due to his fascination towards rocks and gems alike! Definitely not because his head was hard as a rock lmao

Rocky was the calm type,likes wandering off to find new and rare gems and ofc,he loves talking about them!!! He could talk about them for hours,until some Smurf had to shut him up. not the best at staying focus,however...he could barely hold a conversation without getting bored at it,preferring to talk with an actual topic. He feels a bit lonely that his Smurf friends don't get him,and ofc he has a hard time blending in.

He met Reverse and Meteorite while he was on his lil expedition to gather gems. Or so he said.....in reality,he wanted to be in solitude with his collection because no Smurf would wanna hear him talk about them. His new friends was willing to hear him talk about them,tho!! QwQ

Despite currently being the cool guitarist of the Smurf band,Rocky hasn't lost his interest for gems,and will ramble about them whenever they're brought up

Meteorite is the younger sister of Storm,who wanted to become a warrior like her older sister.

However,she isn't as athletic as her,nor is she the best at battling,being average like the other girls at best. This shunned her a lot in her confidence. She tries to act tough,but it's clear she was more on the reserved side and enjoyed music. She's been told many times by Storm that she would never be as good as her if she didn't work hard. But the truth is,she couldn't. She just couldn't. And it upset Storm even more,leading their relationship to fall apart in an argument.

In the heat of the argument, Meteorite ran away from the grove. She was tired of the expectations her sister had put on her. She just wanted to be away from her as much as possible. But boom! She stumbled across Reverse and Rocky and became friends with them!!! Tho she was eventually found and Storm made up to her,along with an apology for being so harsh on her.

Being the drummer of the band,Meteorite has become much more confident in herself,now that she's pursuing the hobby of her dreams. While Storm doesn't say it out,she's proud of her lil sis <33

[threegoldfish]

Marc ends up following that schedule he's been given.

...Somewhat.

It turns out that having meals at set times is actually the easiest for him to do; No, he's not enjoying the process of consuming food - which isn't the kitchen's fault, because everything is rather decent in quality and taste, all things considered. He's just lacking an appetite, and nothing he consumes makes him feel better in any shape or form... but he does manage to eat a suitable amount. Enough to keep him going, enough to make sure his body won't crumble and fall apart. ...As bitter as the coffee is, he's actually enjoying that one the most; A habit of his he can keep holding onto, having a cup of coffee in the morning. It feels... good. Secure. Familiar. Would be even better if he were to allow himself a bit of sugar or milk to go with it...

He's not there yet - allowing himself to even have that one cup of coffee in the first place is almost dancing at the edge of being too much, too generous, so he's going with a plain, black one for now.

The rest of that schedule that Harrow has created for him turns out to be a bit more of an issue - because Marc does not really want to go and see what's going on in the community room, does not want to join anyone doing anything. Since the other had phrased said task rather broadly, however, Marc decided to take it quite literal - found something going on, took a seat a bit further away, watched it happening. Looked at some guys working on a puzzle, then looked at a young girl painting at a closeby window.

...Trying to not come across as super creepy while doing that, yeah. He's, uh, not really eager to be seen as a weirdo... for rather obvious reasons.

He ended up doing that for a bit, then went to get himself something to read; Apparently there's a library existing within this facility, and Harrow had ordered him to go there, pick something up he'd like to read through. That task turned out to be rather easy to do as well - Marc sure as hell did not expect the library to look the way it does, and he also did not expect it to hold so many different books to begin with... many topics, many genres, almost anything a heart could ever desire.

Journaling, however? That's something he hates - he knew he would, but once he'd sat down in front of those stupid empty pages, he'd stared at them for almost a whole hour without writing a word. Everything had felt wrong, not worth it to be noted down, too stupid... all of that combined.

---He did manage to write something into it, in the end, despite it all - one single sentence, written in neat, slightly curved letters: I don't like writing journals.

--

He's never too late for anything, prefers to be early, if Marc can somehow manage to do that. And despite having decided the evening before that he would not join that stupid group meeting - because honestly, why should he? - he's... well, here.

Having stopped at the door frame, glancing into the room, Marc watches other people take a seat at whatever chair they seem to prefer; Harrow's already there, ready to start it all off---

Marc could still leave, turn around and make his way back down to his own room. Enjoy the peace and quiet there, the solitude, the white walls and white floors and white ceilings. He could change his mind about it all, could nope the fuck out and do something else...

But it's written onto his schedule and... what else is he even supposed to do? Drawing? Solving a damn puzzle? Well, he could read another book, but... he technically isn't asked to do that until later today, so...

...A sigh, Harrow's voice beginning to echo through the room - as much as it can, with it always being so quiet, level. Means that Marc is now a tad bit too late, if he's being strict with himself... Shit.

A swallow, a lick of his bottom lip, and Marc finally kicks his ass - enters the room with quiet, tentative steps, walking over to where the rest of the others are already sitting and waiting for whatever is going to happen; Eyes are on him, Marc can tell, and he has a brief, rather awkward lookaround before taking a seat on one of those empty chairs - ends up sitting closest to Harrow in a suitable distance.

Arms cross in front of his chest, a firm, slightly unhappy yet somewhat curious expression on tired features - a drilling gaze thrown at someone who stares at him, which causes that guy to finally look away. Good. Marc hopes it stays this way.

Arthur’s eyebrows raised, in an action that could be easily mistaken for surprise. Anyone who knew him would understand what it was, a nod of respect for being willing to reach out - there was nothing more difficult than accepting help. Asking for it, wanting it - he leaned over the desk, just enough to grab a clipboard near the edge of it, flipping to a fresh sheet of paper. 

“Alright,” he said, more to himself than to Marc as he clicked his pen. “Let’s give the day a spine.” 

He’d keep it light, just because structure wasn’t the same thing as pressure; it was just something for Marc to follow, if it helped. At 8, have breakfast. At 8:30, find something going on in the community room. At 9:30, observe a group session. 

He listed out the full day, using military time only in the hopes that Marc would find comfort in it. He ripped the sheet free with a clean precision, laying it down on the desk in front of Marc. 

“You have to be at every meal,” he stated. “At eighteen-hundred, I want you to journal. I don’t care what you write, but I want you to write something. A note to someone that you never send, something for yourself - I don’t care. But meals and this are ones I don’t really want you to skip. The rest isn’t set in stone, but it’s all yours. Cross out whatever feels like too much. And I’d like to know what is too much, if you don’t mind.” 

If Marc did mind, then it wouldn’t be pushed; Arthur wasn’t known for putting on pressure. Not unless it was something that was needed, something where pressure might help ease the pain, just a bit. 

─── ⋆⋅⚖️⋅⋆ ─────────────────

The chairs were already arranged when Arthur arrived, as they typically tended to stay inside of the sunroom. Morning light filtered in through the frosted windows, the warmth there but tainted with an artificial feel; the windows didn’t open, and the room smelled like the same lemon sanitizer. 

Arthur’s cane gave its familiar tapping as he walked in, setting the clipboard down on a side table. There were some people forced to come to these, just part of their treatment plans that Arthur enforced; but some were optional, too. Marc’s name was written neatly at the bottom of the list, in a gentle kind of hope that the man would come by for a bit. 

He took his usual seat, one that was a bit spaced out from the rest. Not because he thought he needed to make a ‘head’ of the group, but rather because he knew that no one would choose to sit next to him - this group was one for people with heavier problems. Trauma, mostly, though one or two might not fit that mold exactly. 

Some patients were already drifting in. A few nodded, while one or two avoided his eyes completely. As always, the mood was a strange cocktail; some people resented him, some were nervous, somme polite. Most of them had nowhere else to be, and some of them liked groups with Arthur just because he always stayed so calm. 

A woman with a scar down her forearm folded her arms too tightly, sitting with her legs curled up under her. An older man took a chair near the window, scooting it back some so he could be closer to it; someone else had coffee, sipping from it quietly. 

“Good morning,” Arthur greeted, his voice low and even. “If this is your first time, you don’t have to speak. No one’s going to force you into anything. But today… I’d like to start by talking about memory. Not just what we remember, but what we try not to. If anyone would like to begin.” 

[anim-ttrpgs]

Isn't it illegal to shit talk competitors while drawing direct comparisons between your product and theirs?

Not that I don't enjoy it

Well, there’s multiple answers to this. First of all, no, as long as you aren’t lying.

If we said something like “Call of Cthulhu sucks because every third page of the English rulebook is accidentally printed in Chinese, and our game is better because the whole English version is printed in English.” then yeah that would potentially be grounds for a lawsuit.

To say “an issue we and many other players had when playing Call of Cthulhu is XYZ, and so when we made Eureka we fixed this by doing ZYX.” is not illegal.

Second answer is it doesn’t matter because lawsuits are stupid and in reality any company could sue us for anything at any time and just rely on them having more money to win no matter how stupid their claims are.

The real deciding factors over whether we get sued or not are

A. If the company is even aware we exist.

B. If they think that whatever we’re doing is costing them more money than it would cost to pay lawyers to shut us down.

The answer to both is No across the board for pretty much any company worth more than about $10,000. In fact we have actually driven quite a lot of traffic to specifically Chaosium and gotten people paying for some of their products who otherwise wouldn’t. Not that corporations always make the best financial decisions, but really we consider pretty much any developer or studio making half-way-decent games to be more of an ally than a “competitor” even when those games have things directly in common with our own games. (That just means that our products have a better chance of being cross-compatible and people have more a reason to buy both.) I am not saying “a rising tide raises all ships,” because that isn’t true, but in the state of the industry right now, and the mission of A.N.I.M. to get people to play TTRPGs seriously as an artform with rules and design that matters, and stay afloat enough as a business that we can afford to live, it’s really most of us vs Wizards of the Coast.

Then there’s “shittalking.” I recognize that I have a bit of a “4chan accent” as some people have said, and that this wouldn’t hold up super well in court, but I wouldn’t say that most or any of what I’ve said while running the A.N.I.M. account is really “shittalking” (unless it’s the occasional reblogged funny post about D&D5e).

This is an artform, and art is meant to be engaged with, it needs to be engaged with. Sometimes art is good and sometimes art sucks. Very often art is really good in some areas and totally fails in others. That isn’t a moral judgement, I don’t subscribe to the philosophy of “playing D&D badly is activism,” I don’t think that making or playing bad games makes you a bad person. People who do think all that are going to read it like that and take offense, but those people would take offense to anything anyway, so there’s no point trying to please them.

Identifying and expressing where and how different RPGs just plain fail has been invaluable to my growth as a TTRPG designer, and Eureka would be nothing without it. Eureka would make all the same mistakes.

Without anyone being able to recognize or express when things suck, that they are lazily or misguidedly designed, that they fail to accomplish their artistic intent, nothing in the artform ever gets better. This is plainly apparent in the changelogs of our own projects. “Removed this because it sucked.” “Removed this because it was bad.” “This failed at what we were trying to do so we’re trying something else.”

You gotta say shit sucks sometimes. It looks ugly that way maybe, but in my opinion it’s a lot better than a lot of the “criticism” we’ve gotten that starts out pseudo-polite and then descends into rancorous anger, relational violence, and callout posts as soon as our response is something along the lines of “we are aware of that and working to fix it,” “we don’t think that’s a bad thing,” or God-forbid “that criticism is based on a misread of the text.”

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

“All Each Other Has” Y/n would probably be a bit overwhelmed living in the Avengers Compound for a while because it’s huge, there’s a lot of movement sometimes, there’s so many people she doesn’t know and has to get used to (The Avengers and any staff members/agents) as she’s only been comfortable and around her Dad (and scary Hydra agents) for most of her life, and she’s also used to living in a cell not a room with a soft and comfy bed (similar to how Bucky, Steve, and Sam are thrown off by beds because of their time in the military). Y/n would sit on one of the benches with her noise canceling headphones on just people watching and maybe drawing (Bucky probably bought her a nice drawing set). Bucky would come by and check on her frequently and give her a kiss on the head. Steve would walk by and check on her too, ruffling her hair, Sam would ask how she’s feeling today, Nat would check in time to time to see if Y/n wants to talk about anything from the Red Room (though Y/n wasn’t there for long so she doesn’t have that many memories there), Wanda would come sit with her sometimes. All the rest of the Avengers would do little check ins too!! Also they’d bring her snacks and drinks she likes too. It’d take a little for Tony and Y/n to have an Uncle/Niece bond because Tony and Bucky (and Steve) are still working on their issues/friendship. Y/n would also sometimes come sit in when the Avengers are having meetings because she feels safer when she’s close to her Dad (and she’s nervous being separated from him)

I can imagine Y/N laying on a blanket in the grass outside of the compound as she’s drawing. Also, maybe she listens to music while she’s wearing the noise canceling headphones to help her focus on her drawings and to help keep her calm. I can also imagine Y/N drawing pictures for her dad, uncles, and aunts🥰 when her dad, uncles, and aunts check on her, maybe they ask her what snack she wants along with something to drink. Maybe Y/N tries to help Bucky and Tony work out their differences, along with helping Steve and Tony work out their friendship🩵

[agirlandherquill]

writecamp - day 2, june 2nd

and just like that we're onto day 2 campers, and i want to start this post by saying a very big thank you to everyone who has participated or even interacted with writecamp so far - really, your response has been beyond anything i ever anticpated and i truly cannot wait to spend part of my summer with you all

the rules are as follows: choose a prompt (or as many of them as you like) from the list, write something and share your creation with the rest of writeblr, and share the game with others, because as we all know writing is a gift and it deserves to be shared! and of course, tag me in your responses because i cannot wait to see them!

as usual, the prompt list will be under the cut!

The Prompt List

Dialogue Prompts:

"You made a mistake. I was that mistake. I was your wrongdoing, so how will you make it right?"

"Eyes. Eyes on me. Don't you dare look at them. Don't you dare look down. Keep your eyes on me."

"If you cannot remain standing, fall. Fall. For I will fall with you."

"So what if I am weak? What if being weak is the one thing they cannot do? What if that's my strength?"

"Every wise woman knows never to show up to a ball without a weapon. Only a fool comes for dancing."

Setting Prompts:

A roaring waterfall

A dark abyss

A rusty, creaking gate

A burning mansion

A bleeding throne

Narration Prompts:

She had no business being where she did, her doubts held their own doubts, but walk on she did.

He wanted to bundle the pitiful thing in his arms and rush it straight home, but he feared to touch it, to come within reaching distance, for its talons were fiendishly sharp.

Memories whispered from each crack in the wall, they beckoned with gentle, comforting hands from the shadows, they smiled from empty doors, there was no place left without them.

The trembling fingers sunk into the forbidden cavity and tore free a most wretched, a most worthy prize - a heart.

What if the price was not worthy of the reward? What if the sacrifice was treasured far more than what was repaid in return? What if loving finally crossed that line?

Feeling Prompts:

The bitter rush of wind

The softness of someone else's coat

The sweetness of a loved one's smile

The cold abandoning of daylight

The caress of memory

wishing you happy tidings for day 2 campers, and i can't wait to see what you write!

~ A Girl and Her Quill

~ ~ ~

now for the tags! for writecamp, because i have a feeling there's going to be so many of you, i'm going to do tags a little bit differently and instead tag all you lovely campers in the comments! (to hopefully get around any tag limits/difficulties because we all know there's going to be problems, it's inevitable and i'm going to do my best to avoid any issues in that area) (the tag list will also be completed a short while after this post comes out seeing as i unfortunately cannot queue comments, but i'll get there in the end :) )

but of course, if you would like to be tagged in future daily challenges for writecamp, all you've got to do is interact with this post - it'll be monitored throughout the entirety of the challenge to ensure nobody who wants to be tagged misses out!