#this is a good idea. this is as good of an idea as collecting and playing all the imagine games

[cchickki]

If you haven’t started already, start archiving/downloading everything. Save it to an external hard drive if you’re able. Collecting physical media is also a good idea, if you’re able.

Download your own/your favorite fanfics. Save as much as you can from online sources/digital libraries. Recipes, tutorials, history, LGBTQ media, etc. It has been claimed, though I can’t find the exact source if true, that some materials about the Revolutionary War were deleted from the Library of Congress.

It’s always better to be safe than sorry and save and preserve what you can. Remember that cloud storage also is not always reliable!

Library of Congress - millions of books, films and video, audio recordings, photographs, newspapers, maps, manuscripts.

Internet Archive - millions of free texts, movies, software, music, websites, and more. Has been taken offline multiple times because of cyber attacks last month, it has recently started archiving again.

Anna's Archive - 'largest truly open library in human history.’

Queer Liberation Library - queer literature and resources. Does require applying for a library membership to browse and borrow from their collection.

List of art resources - list of art resources complied on tumblr back in 2019. Not sure if all links are still operational now, but the few I clicked on seemed to work.

Alexis Amber - TikToker who is an archivist who's whole page is about archiving. She has a database extensively recording the events of Hurricane Katrina.

I'll be adding more to this list, if anyone else wants to add anything feel free!

[cinnamxnangel]

showstopper ! (mlist)

warnings: none rlly! fluff, banter, banter, banter

chapter 4: it's not a date .ᐟ

"and cut! y/n, megumi i'd like to speak with you. privately." gojo calls out.

the three of us sit down in the producers lounge, waiting for someone to speak.

"you both are incredibly talented," gojo starts. "i don't have to say that, your work and success speaks for itself." i smile. "but i'm not feeling a lot of chemistry when we're filming. i know you guys may have your own feelings about each other," he says eyeing the both of us.

i didn't realize our dislike for each other was that apparent.

"that's fine and it's none of my bussines," gojo leans back. "but on set it's a different thing. it's a job, right?" megumi nods slowly. "that's why i think you two should go on a date of sorts."

"what?" we both exclaim at the same time. i look at him, annoyed.

"relax.. it's only for an hour. and it's not even a date, just the two of you hanging out alone." i can see gojo fighting the smirk on his face.

i want to slap it off.

"what are we supposed to do?" megumi asks. he hasn't looked at me this entire time.

he talks like i'm not even in the room.

"i don't know." gojo shrugs, the sly smirk now painfully visible. "you're both adults, figure it out."

we walk in an uncomfortable silence, purposefully not meeting each other's eyes. i hear a couple of kids laughing, running quickly to their destination. i crane my neck to see where they're off to in such a hurry. my eyes meet with a brightly lit neon sign that reads "arcade".

a smile finds its way to my face as i recall the days where i too found such excitement over simple things.

"what are you looking at?" megumi asks, realizing i've stopped in my tracks. "you can't be serious." he sighs once he reads the sign. i smile.

why can't i enjoy these things again?

my feet seem to move on their own towards the arcade, megumi unwillingly following behind me.

"what are you? 4 years old?" i roll my eyes.

"are you always this grumpy?" i ask.

" 'm not grumpy." he says, in an almost pout. it makes me laugh.

"i feel bad for anyone who has the displeasure of meeting you."

"self-pity isn't a good look on you."

"i wonder how your fans would feel if they knew how you really are?"

"they would say 'i can fix him'. my fans are delusional, they'd do anything for me." his words are sweet, but there's a look of distaste on his face, like they leave a bad taste in his mouth.

"what? you don't like your fans?" i ask, a slight smirk on my face.

"i never said that." he mumbles, avoiding my gaze.

"didn't need to," i shrug. i walk to the front, buying the ticket cards. i look over at megumi, one eyebrow raised. "do you want one?" i can see megumi contemplate the idea before finally exclaim..

"ah fuck it." i grin, buying cards for both of us. i thank the person, collecting the the cards. i hand one to megumi.

"you didn't even offer to pay?"

"you're a a-list celebrity, you don't need someone to pay for you."

"you're an a-list celebrity too. it wouldn't hurt to offer." i say.

"this was your idea, you pay." i roll my eyes.

rude, i think but from the expression of his face i realize i said that out loud.

"soo what'd you want to do first, princess?"

"don't call me that," i retort, shooting him a glare. i look around, the sounds of lasers and people's laughter filling my ears.

"uhmm.." my eyes linger on the giant crossy road game. i walk over, megumi trailing behind me. "i used to play this game all the time. i was soo good." i tap my card and place my fingers over the buttons.

i forgot how fast-paced this game was and i struggle to keep up. i die almost instantaneously.

"7 ?!" i exclaim. i can see megumi trying to hide his smile in the corner of my eye. i glare at him.

"like you could do better." a look of pure determination flashes in his eyes.

"oh yeah? bet." he taps his card and begins furiously clicking the buttons. he gets well past 7, finally dying when he gets to 151 points. he groans when he dies but looks at me with a smirk.

heat rises to my cheeks under his belittling gaze. "i haven't played in years, okay?" anger finding its way into my voice.

we continue playing for hours, these games turning into a competition, we had both won four, the last game deciding who's the winner.

"so what do i get when i win?" i ask, a smug smile plastered over my face.

"so certain you're going to win, huh?"

"of course." he lets out a laugh.

"what?" i ask, my brows furrowed.

"nothing, it'll just be all the more satisfying when i win." a ghost of a smile on his features.

his smile.

it was never sweet or genuine. it felt demeaning.

words cannot explain how badly i wanted to wipe that look off his face.

"ooo! let's play basketball!" i say, spotting the mini basketball game.

"alright. but I have to warn you, i used to play basketball in high school." my eyebrows shoot up at the idea of megumi being 15 years old, running around sweaty in a school gym. "don't look so disturbed."

"actually the idea of you being a ugly, awkward teenager brings me a lot of joy."

"i actually wasn't awkward or ugly."

"i think you're as delusional as your fans."

"okay, but we should have a prize or the loser has to do something." i say. megumi leans against the machine, thinking, his thumb and forefinger tapping furiously against each other.

"oh! if you lose you have to go on a date with my assistant." he says with a smug look on his face. i can tell from the look in his eyes that his assistant might not be the most normal person. but i take my chance.

"okay. but if you lose, you have to.. wear a shirt with my face on it for an entire day!" i smile. he shrugs.

"that's fine, you're not going to win. i suggest bringing pepper spray on your date."

we swipe your cards and grab the basketballs. there's a two minute timer, whoever gets the most points wins.

3, 2, 1.. go!

we both start to throw our shots and i don't bother to see how megumi's doing.

1 minute remaining !

"you might also need to bring a bodyguard. like a big one, todo is really buff."

"shh don't talk to me, i'm locked in." i don't look at him as i answer, continuing shooting.

time's up !

we look at the amount of points and-

"i win!" i exclaim. i jump up, a goofy smile painted over my face. his look of defeat brings so much satisfaction.

"you got lucky." he rolls his eyes. we exit the arcade while i continue to berate him and a scowl stays planted on his face.

but we don't notice, is the click of a camera, capturing a mundane moment between the two of us.

roll the credits !

first date? but neither of them like each other

arcade dates are SO cute! when is it my turn? huh?

also not the pap rn

can you guys feel the ship edits, ESPECIALLY w megumi wearing her face

a/n: i had loads of fun writing this one. we are getting more plot heavy 😈 next chapter will be interesting.. have an amazing, amazing day my angels!

taglist ! - @missunrise @cyberst4rs @qtnfer @rxi-n-lyche3 @kenmacantakemeaway @soobinbunnie5 @c-haefilms @lupicalbestwolf @babysoo-meu @stillnotherapy @cl3xr @starrysho @good-mourning0 @ifuhatemeiloveu @bunichuu @aestheticallyvini @mochroialainn @starsryi @ladytamayolover @megumislovedoll @dimwitfreakby @urfavlarry @yowumi @bubybubsters @gumims @samkickikc @sukuna5slut @sugacor3 @angelcakkess @rixo-19 @idkidk32 @pandabiene5115 @q2uq2u @ichorstainedskin @izanacult @adormae @samkickikc @meowforluv

[naamahdarling]

The vet wants poop samples from the Jeebers, both of them, and it fell to me to collect. 💩 🎉

Junie does what she pleases when she pleases, but if I want something from Jasper all I have to do is go into the bathroom and sit down on the closed toilet seat and wait.

He likes to watch people in the bathroom, and since he has almost no original ideas, he will immediately try to go and use the litter box.

The mirroring is really cute I guess but good lord is he stinky!

Fingers crossed that there's nothing wrong with either of them. I don't think so, but it's hard not to worry excessively.

[a1ecmcdowell]

bed chem — jj maybank x pogue!reader!

part of the short n' sweet x obx collection, found here!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤincludes, pogue!reader. best friends... with benefits?. making out. fade to black ending.

❛ how you talk so sweet when you're doing bad things, that's bed chem! ❜

jj was very obvious in the way that he wanted you. he’d preach the outdated no pogue on pogue macking rule to the moon and back, and then show up at your house, practically down on his knees begging for just one chance.

just one! he’d treat you so right, that’s all he needed. 

and you did love him, he was one of your best friends, but you weren’t going to jeopardize your friendship for one night with him. he was hot, but not hot enough to lose. 

you two were practically attached at the hip. you spent every moment with him, or him and the rest of the pogues, and he spent every moment with you that he wasn’t crashing at john b’s. 

it really was inevitable, that slowburning transition between friendship to attraction. you just thought that you’d always be strong enough to ignore it. 

but you’d never been this high with jj before. he always kept a blunt on him, especially on days that he came to see you, but this time, he’d brought a sketchy looking bag of edibles along with him. “ricky made ‘em,” he’d snickered on his way into your house, shoving the door open with his shoulder before you could even fully open it, “and they work fuckin’ good.” 

and so you ate an entirety of one of the brownies ( because jj dared you wouldn’t do the whole thing, and you can’t just let him win ) and you shared the blunt with jj while the sunset dipped into deeper shades of orange. 

and jj stares at you like you were the one responsible for hanging the moon poking between the trees. 

and you stare back. 

and suddenly he’s leaning in, and suddenly it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, does it? his white jacket clings to his strong frame, tight around the shoulders, and at some point he’d lost his shirt even though he immediately started complaining about being cold, and you can see th expanse of his muscles from his chest down to—

“nuh uh,” you say once his nose brushes yours, shoving him away with a palm over his face. “this is a bad idea.” 

your voice sounds weak in your own ears. and it must be even worse in jj’s, because his grin is lazy and borderline a smirk, chapped lips against the heel of your palm. 

“m’not really one for good ideas,” he mumbles, and his lips trail a hot line from your palm and up; your inner wrist, the inside of your arm. 

shivers trail down your spine from those simple touches alone. heat pools in your lower stomach, lower, and it’s a bit embarrassing that such little things are affecting you like this; but you’re about as baked as those brownies, and it’s not really you’re fault. 

“mm, i’m gettin’ to ya,” jj says, and for a second, the illusion he had you under shatters. he always ruins it by opening his mouth, reminding you that he’s still that best friend of yours since you were toddling around the sandy shores outside of his house. 

unfortunately for you, that’s seeming less like a factor to keep him away from you and more like a reason to pull him closer. in reality, who else out there would know what you liked and needed better than someone that’d seen you almost drown a few times when learning to swim? or was there and helped after you greened out for the first time? 

yeah. he really was getting to you. 

but you honestly didn’t seem to mind much at that point, with the way your fist uncurls and your fingers land in his hair, pushing back the soft, tangled strands from his forehead. 

his eyes close. yours stay open. and in a blink, you’re leaning over the edge of the porch chair you’d been sitting in, and your fingers are using the light grip you had on his hair to pull him closer. 

and you’re kissing him. god, you’re kissing jj maybank. he’d seen you in diapers. you’d seen him drink so much that he threw up three times in the same ten minutes. he’d seen you cry over wilting flowers when you were high. you’d seen him eat a cricket for five bucks. 

there wasn’t anyone else in the world, you realized, that you wanted between your legs than him. right now. like, right now. 

he’s already got his tongue past the barricade of your closed lips, half raised out of his own chair so he can grab onto the front of your shirt and pull you closer into him. 

he tastes like dark chocolate and weed and bad decisions. he tastes like the best thing you’d ever put in your mouth. 

before you know it, he’s dragged you into his lap, his back falling haphazardly backwards until it presses into the pillowed cushion behind him. his hands are on your ass, fingers digging into the soft skin beneath your shorts. 

“think we should go inside,” he mumbles into your mouth, barely making the effort to stop kissing you to push the words out of his lips. “don’t want you gettin’ mosquito bites on your pussy because of me or somethin’.” 

you splutter out a laugh, breaking the kiss to shove firmly at his chest. “oh my god, jj.” 

“oh my god, jj,” he mocks in a higher cadence, leaning up to capture your lips in another lazy, slow kiss. “you gonna let me hear you cry that out tonight, or you just gonna blue ball me again?” 

he was so infuriating sometimes. so stupid, and infuriating — so why was your mouth drying up all of a sudden at the thought of getting him in bed with you? 

it must show on your face, too, every stage of denial you tried to enforce on yourself before you conceded, because his red-rimmed blue eyes darken. 

jj’s hands slip down from your ass to your thighs, scooping you up and standing in one fell swoop. you’d think it was impressive for how inebriated it was — if he wasn’t high all the time enough to have gotten good at this kind of thing. 

you don’t regret anything. at least, right then you didn’t. not when he knows without having to ask where your bedroom is, and not when you know he intends to make well on his promise to only need a night to get you addicted.

[kitzenvoncatzen]

It was very obviously not meant to be a shrine. It just happened to be mostly symmetrical and with an offering of one Chicken Strip Combo Meal from the chicken place.

I should describe the actual requirements for the shrine that I made.

It needs 2 crystals, one on either side of the offering, and a collection of glass pillars behind the offering, and a bunch of other tiny less important things that I happened to have a bunch of. Like bottle caps and wrappers that just happened to fit the requirements.

I was sitting down at my computer with a good meal I just bought with my own money and I was about to watch the newest episode of the stupid game show.

The rest of my floor isn't actually better than the table that only had room for the "offering".

The "crystals" were literally just rocks that I thought looked cool and stole them because I like having rocks for some reason. They apparently have crystals inside of them. Both of them. The glass pillars are empty soda bottles. (I like glass bottled soda a lot more.)

There are other gods that might answer to their own offering rituals, but this one was the only one that would actually answer to a Chicken Strip Combo Meal. The rest want much more to actually be contacted.

I'm a full 5 minutes into the show before I actually reach for my food. Which is gone.

I look around and immediately find some guy in full bright face paint and cool jagged symbols in my room, standing behind me, watching the show with me.

My first instinct is to punch him in the face. (I definitely would have recognized any of the other gods.)

It feels like hitting a rock wall.

"So I assume this wasn't intentional. About what I expected, actually." He speaks, the voice doesn't really match the figure standing before me.

"WHAT??" I shout. I look at my hand. Punching was actually a horrible idea because of the small scrape on my finger that got slightly more scraped.

"I can explain more later but right now I need your help. There are some things only mortals can do." He grabs my arm, and light surrounds us. A similar thing happens when other gods return to wherever they come from, but I was experiencing it from inside, in person, and it was slightly different. I couldn't tell if that's just how it is when you're inside it, or if the shade of the light was actually slightly different to the videos I've seen, but it seemed a bit weird compared to them.

"WHAT? WHERE ARE WE?" I shout again. He immediately covers my mouth with his equally cold, stony hands. (Which isn't actually as good at muffling speech as flesh is. I think. I can't bite through it like flesh though.)

"Gods fight all the time, but only mortals can actually kill gods." He whispers. The trees around us are completely still, and even the strong wind does not move a single leaf on them. They all appear to be made of some kind of stone, like he was.

"What does this have to do with me?" I whisper, still muffled by the hand. I had already accepted my most likely fate, death, which is usually the fate of people who get this involved with the gods without any good preparation. "No, wait, you're not saying..."

"I need you to kill a god."

[ Yeah

I did another one.

It's been a while. ]

{Check out my other things at this site please I need feedback.}

You are a person who covers your counter space in clutter and inadvertently makes a shrine to a long forgotten god who shows up to thank you.

[nataliasquote]

Double the trouble | Switch Up | n romanoff

Double the trouble AU

Summary: Yelena is back, the twins are older, and her scheming ways do nothing but backfire. a mother always knows…

Age: 8

Warnings: none

wc: 3.3k

note: hello! I’m back with another little oneshot for DTT. I’ve missed writing tbh and although this isn’t the best, I’m pleased to finally write. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting!

-⧗-

Leaving the twins with Yelena was either the best idea or the worst idea Natasha had ever had. But with Wanda away visiting her brother, Natasha didn’t really have much of a choice. Work didn’t allow her to take time off like this, so she turned to the next best thing.

The blonde was as grumpy as anything until she was faced with the two bundles of joy that were her nieces. She hated kids, but Isla and Y/n were an exception. She opened the door with a huge grin as the twins came barreling towards her, crouching barely over the threshold to collect them in a hug.

Natasha hovered back by the stairs with a soft smile tugging at her lips. Despite having a rocky patch, she truly loved Yelena with all her heart. And seeing her girls happy was all that mattered. She wished she could stay, but with new development plans happening at the studio, she had to oversee the final meeting.

“Are you staying all day?” Isla asked, peering round to look at Yelena’s truck parked in the driveway. “Where’s Fanny?”

“I’ll get her out in a minute, and yes I am, lucky duck.” The twins cheered at her response, their chatter tumbling over the top of each other as they bombarded their aunt with questions. Natasha quickly stepped in, taking them by the hand so Yelena could finally enter the house. After sending her girls over to the couch, Natasha pulled Yelena to one side, whispering in hushed voices.

“It shouldn’t take long, but in case I’m held back, there’s boxed mac and cheese in the cupboard and the girls made cookies last night so they’re in the green jar.”

“Mac and cheese, green jar, got it.”

“Please don’t give them too much sugar,” Natasha warned, knowing her sister’s tendencies, “and they have been arguing a lot, so good luck.” She didn’t really need to tell Yelena what to do, she’d babysat since they were really little, but it gave Natasha a piece of mind to know they were well looked after.

“Natasha, they’ll be fine. Don’t you trust me? Yelena asked with a grin.

“Absolutely not.”

Yelena rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands into her pockets. “So who’s the troublemaker this time?”

“Y/n has been in a mood for the past few days, so it’s currently her. Apparently Isla's existence annoys her.” As if on cue, a yell sounded from the living room and Natasha inwardly groaned. A moment of peace was never on the cards.

As she went to sort out whatever argument was occurring with her eight year olds, Yelena let Fanny out of the car and watched the Akita bound up the front steps, her tail wagging frantically. Any normal person would feel bad about the amount of hair she shed, but it only made Yelena laugh. She truly made every place her home.

The scene in the living room was absurd even for Yelena. Natasha was scolding a pouting Y/n whilst Isla cried in her arms, clutching something hidden behind her hair. Yelena hovered awkwardly, unsure how to approach, and Fanny did the same. It was almost like she could read the room.

Natasha, breathing a sigh of relief, gestured for Yelena to approach, to which she did. A sniffly Isla was pushed in her direction and the young girl lunged at her aunt, clinging to her waist with a sob.

“What happened?” Yelena mouthed, her eyebrows shooting up as Natasha held up what looked like a barbie doll. “Where’s the hair?”

“This one got scissor happy,” Natasha said exasperatedly, jabbing her thumb in Y/n’s direction.

“She stole my barbie!” Y/n protested, folding her arms across her chest in a huff.

“No!” Isla burst out,” that’s mine!”

“Well I don’t care, I was playing with it!”

“Get your own!”

Above their heads, Natasha gave Yelena a look. This is what she had been dealing with since Wanda left and although she hated leaving her kids, the bickering was starting to wear her down. It was Yelena’s turn to handle it for once. She just hoped the house would still be standing when she got back.

“Girls, please,” Natasha sighed, standing up with the barbie in her hand. “Mama has to go in a minute, and I’m not having you acting up for Yelena.” She used her stern mom voice and Y/n paled, hating being told off. “Y/n, can you apologise to Isla please.”

“No.”

Natasha may have a soft spot for her youngest but the glare that crossed her features made the little girl’s eyes well up and she hung her head in shame. “Y/n…” Natasha warned, knowing what came next if she didn’t start behaving.

“Sorry,” Y/n mumbled, suddenly very interested in the sleeve of her pink sweater.

“Good,” Natasha stated, brushing off the dog hair from her sleek black suit trousers. “I want you two on your best behaviour, and Yelena will tell me everything that happens. If I find out that you’ve been disrespectful and naughty, I will tell Mama. Okay?”

The girls mumbled in chorus, with Isla still clinging on to Yelena and Y/n standing by herself. It was just a phase, Natasha had to keep reminding herself that, but it certainly felt as though it was going to last forever. She wasn’t the bad mom, but Y/n’s behaviour had been so bad lately that not a day went by where she wasn’t being told off. It hurt her to see her daughter so upset, but Natasha stood strong. It was her own kindred spirit that she saw in Y/n, and now she understood why she was such a difficult child sometimes.

“We’re going to have fun, right guys?” Yelena asked with extravagant enthusiasm, although the responses she got were far from it. “You can go and do your boring adult stuff whilst the cool kids do… cool kid stuff.”

Natasha anxiously glanced at her kids, a wave of doubt washing over her. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I can cancel-”

“Natasha, go, I’ll be fine. They’re angels with me and I’ve got Fanny with me if it all goes wrong.”

The dog in question gave a small woof and Natasha eyed her warily, far more a cat person than a dog person. She wasn’t totally convinced, but motherhood had made her anxious so she straightened out her jacket and nodded, psyching herself up.

“I’ll be back by 5, 6 at the latest.”

“Have a good day Mama,” Y/n said quietly, trying desperately to get back on her good side. Having Wanda mad at her was bad enough, but having Natasha was the worst thing she could think of. And when her Mama crouched down and opened her arms, Y/n took her chance to get to the hug first, muttering another ‘sorry’ to try and make amends.

“Be good, girls. I’ll be home soon.”

‘Aunty Lena, does Mama hate me?” Y/n asked as the door closed. The blonde frowned and turned to her niece, her large green eyes piercing into the Russian’s soul.

“Of course not, little bug. But you have to start being nice to Isla, okay?”

“I know,” Y/n replied. “She just really makes me mad.”

“That’s what sisters do. Your mama and I used to fight all the time.”

Y/n’s eyes lit up. “You did?”

“It’s totally normal, little bug. When your mama had blue hair, I used to tease her about it all the time.”

Isla’s head perked up at that. “Mama had blue hair?”

“Has she never shown you pictures?” Yelena asked in disbelief. Both girls shook their heads and Yelena grinned. “I’ll make some hot chocolate and I can show you. Your grandma put all our photos as kids in an album.”

The twins cheered loudly and ran to the kitchen, laughing with each other. It was such a stark contrast to earlier that Yelena had to do a double take at what she was witnessing.

“I’m glad you’re not this much work,” she muttered to Fanny, who barked happily at the noise. Kids really were hard work.

~~~

“Lena, kick it!” Isla yelled across the garden, dancing around the goal whilst her aunt really took her time. She was doing it purely to mess with her niece, and it was working perfectly. With another yell, Isla sprinted out of the goal in an attempt to tackle, but Yelena took her chance and sent the ball flying into the goal with a thud.

“That’s not fair!” She cried, running over to retrieve it.

“Another point to Aunt Lena!” Y/n announced from her place at the side before launching into another back walkover. She’d only recently learned the skill at dance and was more than happy to do acro tricks whilst they played. As long as she kept score as promised.

“No! That doesn’t count,” Isla protested, one foot propped up on the ball. “She cheated.”

“I didn’t cheat, you just have no patience,” Yelena said sassily, propping a hand up on her hip. “You’re not going to make a very good goal keeper.”

“I hate soccer anyway,” Isla grumbled, kicking the ball as hard as she could in Yelena’s direction. “It sucks.”

“It’s only because you’re bad at it,” Y/n piped up, now sitting on the porch steps after exhausting herself from cartwheels.

“You’re worse!” Typical comeback but Yelena had had enough. With a roll of her eyes, she marched towards the goal, giving Isla a bump with her elbow as she walked past.

“New game, I’ll be in goal and you have to work together to score. Deal?”

Isla shook her head. “I’m not playing with her, she can’t even kick a ball!”

“I can too!” Y/n protested, sprinting up to her sister. “I’m better than you and I don’t even have lessons.”

“That’s so not true. You-”

“Guys!” Yelena shouted, her Russian accent thickly coating her words. “Do you ever stop this fighting? It’s so annoying!”

The twins went silent, an uncommon phenomenon. Y/n muttered something under her breath but Yelena didn’t have it in her to care anymore. Every time she babysat it made her more and more impressed at how Natasha did it. A true saint.

“New rules. You have to pass it to each other before trying to score. If you don’t, the point goes to me. Okay?”

“Fine!”

Surprisingly, very few fights broke out over the course of the game. Isla did most of the scoring after Y/n well and truly botched her tries. But in her defence, her legs weren’t made for kicking the shit out of a soccer ball.They were made for cartwheels, which Isla soon got fed up with.

After far too long outside, Yelena rounded them up and herded them back inside after teeth started chattering and Y/n’s soaked trouser legs from falling over were turning her lips slightly blue.

After a quick bath she sat them both on Isla’s bed and dug through her closet for some comfier clothes. After a few minutes she sat back on her knees, her mind racing.

“Do you guys match anymore?”

“Ew,” Isla said, her nose scrunching. “Never. All Y/n wears is pink, and I hate pink.”

“You also hate dresses too.”

Yelena was quiet for a moment, the cogs in her head turning. She turned around with a sheepish smile, almost shaking with excitement.

“I have an idea, but you need to cooperate… okay?”

~~~

Natasha sighed as she stepped out of her car, her breath forming a small cloud in front of her. It was far too cold for October and she rushed up the front steps to get inside. The building work was looking amazing and she knew Y/n was itching to get back to the studio just as much as she was (there was only so much kitchen ballet they could do).

It was eerily quiet as the front door opened, only her heels sounding on the wooden floor as she approached the kitchen. She wasn’t met with a pile of bodies throwing themselves at her, which was probably more strange than the silence. Had she trusted Yelena too much and her sister had kidnapped her children and ran off to Russia? Honestly it wasn’t such a surprising theory.

Empty kitchen… empty living room… this was weird. But the sound of giggles couldn’t be hidden and Natasha kicked off her heels at the bottom of the stairs and took the stairs two at a time, her trousers straining around her thigh muscles. Isla’s laugh was the most distinguishable and she pushed the door open slowly, trying not to startle anyone.

The wholesome sight of the three of them sitting on the floor surrounded by stuffed animals was enough to melt Natasha’s heart and she smiled softly, leaning on the doorframe waiting for someone to notice her. And strangely it wasn’t Y/n but Isla who jumped up first, almost stumbling over Fanny to get to her Mama with a shriek.

Natasha caught her daughter in her arms and pressed kisses all over her face, warmth flooding her body. She would never feel complete when she was away from her girls.

Y/n quickly joined in, wanting the same cuddles. Natasha crouched down and stroked their cheeks before pausing slightly, squinting. Something wasn’t right and Yelena’s overly wide grin didn’t help her suspicions either. She stroked Isla’s hair with a chuckle and straightened up, her back aching from bending down so much.

“Did you girls have a good day?” She asked, watching as Y/n settled back on the floor beside Fanny. “You both look happier than when I left.”

“We played soccer and beat Aunt Lena!” Y/n piped up. “I scored all the goals.”

“No, I helped too!”

Natasha didn’t miss the way Yelena nudged her nieces or how their eyes went as wide as saucers. But the redhead just chuckled and took a seat on Isla’s bed, her legs slightly aching from standing all day.

Isla stood in front of her, clearly torn with where to go. Natasha knew she wanted to sit on her knee but watched as she settled beside Yelena again. It was impressive, Natasha gave her that much. Very dedicated to the cause.

“You did? Well done baby. Have you behaved today?”

“They’ve been angels, sestra, as usual. It’s only you they are bad for.” Yelena had a shit eating grin and it took everything in Natasha not to launch a pillow at her head. But she could not condone aggression around her violent children anyway before Y/n got any more ideas.

“Is that right?”

“Mama you had blue hair!”

If looks could kill, Yelena would be well and truly dead. If there was one thing Natasha hated, it was pictures of her younger self. She made far too many questionable decisions and went through one too many boxes of hair dye, so seeing pictures was a no no. Not even Wanda had seen many. And now her daughters had seen the worst ones which she was never going to live down.

“Yelena Belova… what did you do.”

The blonde just shrugged and jumped up, causing Fanny to do the same. The queen of avoiding things. “Who wants Aunt Yelena’s special mac and cheese?”

The twins both cheered and raced out of the room after their aunt, leaving Natasha slightly bewildered in the blue and white room. There were times where Natasha convinced herself that Yelena wasn’t all that bad, and then she pulled stunts like this and put herself back on top of Natasha’s hit list. But that was never going to change.

“What else did you show my kids, Yelena?”

No reply. Typical.

Natasha truly was outnumbered when her sister was around. But then she remembered what was really going on and a small laugh escaped Natasha’s mouth. Adorable, really.

Y/n and Isla helped as much as they could to make dinner, including standing on a chair to stir the boiling noodles and dumping the cheese packets in when instructed. Natasha was banished to setting the table after Isla gave her a lecture about her inability to cook, clearly something else she’d picked up from Yelena. But Natasha yielded, setting the cutlery down with a shake of her head. The longer it went on for, the more she tried not to laugh. And the more slip ups she noticed.

Like how Isla wouldn’t stand on the chair because she was scared of heights, even though yesterday she climbed the largest tree in the backyard. And how Y/n stood still when waiting for her turn, when she’d usually be twirling around with her apron. Natasha could only watch as Yelena heavily emphasised their names and the twins burst into giggles whenever they answered her. It was adorable to see and she couldn’t wait to tell Wanda.

They ate in silence, which was usually the case when mac and cheese was involved. And the girls did very well, Natasha gave them that, until she pulled an admittedly evil move.

“How about cookies?” Yelena asked once plates were cleared and the table was wiped down.

“It sounds good to me,” Natasha agreed, grabbing the tin and sitting back at the table. “One each, you too Yelena. And Y/n, you know the rules. You got in trouble today so you don’t get a cookie.”

She slid the tin to Isla who happily reached in until a protest sounded from the girl next to her.

“That’s not fair! That’s my cookie!”

Isla had already shoved her cookie in her mouth at this point, the crumbs sticking to her cheeks and the front of her shirt. She grinned happily, thankful she agreed to Yelena’s scheming plot.

“Mama! That’s mine!”

Natasha shook her head. “No Y/n, those aren’t the rules, you know that.”

Isla smacked her palm against the tabletop. “I’m not Y/n! She is!” She pointed at her sister harshly, who was licking the crumbs from her fingertips. “We switched!”

“Isla!” Y/n whined, “You weren’t supposed to spoil it!”

“I’m not losing my cookie, give it to me!”

“No,” Y/n said with a grin. “Mama said you can’t have one, so you can’t.”

“I hate you!”

Natasha watched the scene unfold, with Yelena looking more and more concerned. The blonde turned to her sister for help, but was met with only a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“Do something!” Yelena hissed, but Natasha shook her head.

“Absolutely not,” Natasha said, leaning back in her chair. “It’s your mess, you fix it.”

“Tell her Aunt Lena!” Isla cried, tears threatening to spill. “Tell her I’m Isla! I’m not Y/n.”

Whilst Isla was nearing a breakdown, Y/n’s mean streak thickened. “These cookies really are good.”

“Mama please!”

Natasha rounded the table and placed a kiss on Isla’s forehead before passing her the biggest cookie from the tin. “Here baby, you’re okay,” she soothed, gently wiping her tears. “But your Aunt is an idiot. I did know it was you all along Isl’s, I’m sorry baby.” She picked her daughter up and set her on her lap, holding her close as she ate her cookie.

Yelena’s mouth fell open. “You knew?”

“From the moment ‘Isla’ ran to me first.” Yelena hit the table, muttering ‘dammit’ under her breath. “A mother always know, Yel. Always.”

[copperbadge]

My goal for NaClYoHo is primarily organization, so vikings and vampires and pirates aren't really working for me but I realized what would. New museum curator who has inherited a position from someone who clearly didn't give a damn about the museum or the collection or the preservation of the artifacts

So in the first half of your ask I was about to suggest that possibly a Mad Scientist might be the thing -- you know, sort the racks of body parts, make sure the bubbling chemicals are all arrayed and labeled, that kind of thing -- but then you said "New museum curator" and I was AWESTRUCK. That's such a good idea, and especially being able to grumble about the previous curator!

For those who are uncertain wtf we're talking about, one aspect of cleaning that I suggest in the manifesto is the "To Viking" list, where instead of just running errands you picture yourself as a viking achieving feats of valor -- other suggestions include being a vampire cleaning a dungeon, a superhero defeating various evils, etc.

If you want to read more, the "to viking list" tag on this post can give you some examples!

[mareastrorum]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Before January 2025:

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

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

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

[ericshoney]

Fake Friends ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: You've been refusing to go to school since you and your best friend fell out. You hadn't told your parents what the reason was, so they call in back up. Nick, Matt and Chris.

Warnings: Possible swearing, nicknames, crying, random names for friends, slight angst, fluff.

Reader's age: 16

You hadn't gone to school in a week. Every time your parents came to see if you were ready, you were laid in bed still in your pjs, refusing to go.

You hadn't told your parents why you didn't want to go to school. Just that you didn't want too. The reason.

You and your best friend Rachel had fallen out.

You also noticed that after you and Rachel fell out, all your other friends turned their back on you. Admitting they were only friends with you due to your brothers careers.

So here you were, laid in your bed. MaryLou had tried to get you to go to school but you flat out refused. Your mother had called in back up though.

Nick, Matt and Chris had just landed back in Boston, your dad had gone to collect them, filling the trio in the car with what was going on.

"So, you've got no idea what happened? She's just refusing?" Nick asked.

"Yeah. We tried to ask her what was wrong, but she just said she didn't want to." Your dad replied.

"We'll see what we can do." Matt said.

Once they arrived home, Nick, Matt and Chris greeted your mum before coming to your room.

"Hey kid, can we come in?" Matt asked, as he knocked on your door.

"Sure." You mumbled.

The trio walked into your room and saw you sat up on your bed, your phone laid on your lap. The three smiled as they came and sat on your bed too.

"Hey, what's going on?" Nick asked,

"I just don't want to go to school anymore." You answered.

"We understand that, kid, but why?" Chris asked, emphasising the word.

"You can tell us, sweetheart." Nick mentioned, noticing your hesitation.

"Me and Rachel fell out. All my other friends then admitted they were using me to get to you guys." You confessed.

"I...I just don't get it, like, what have I done to them! They all turned their backs on me! All cause you guys do YouTube, but they lied! They told me they were friends with me because they wanted too, but they all just lied." You continued, feeling the tears fall down your face.

Matt pulled you into a hug as you cried in his arms. He shared a look with Chris and Nick, who both frowned.

"Hey, so listen. We understand how hard it is to lose friends. Especially a close one, so we fully know what you're feeling. But do you think you could try something for us?" Matt suggested.

"What is it?" You asked.

"So we're home for a few weeks, okay. Do you think you could try and go to school tomorrow for us. If things aren't good then we'll work something out, okay petal?" Matt offered.

"Okay." You agreed.

"Just remember, kid, you're better than those people. You weren't being fake, they were." Nick said.

"The right friends will make their way to you one day. Believe us, school isn't the only time to make friends. And you've always got us, Justin and Nate." Chris said, making you laugh lightly.

"Thanks guys." You said, feeling better about the situation.

Tags:

@lgbtq-girl @mattsfavbigtitties @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann @mrvlxgrl @lottieluhvs @cl1tlover3000 @melaniesturniolo @lovesturni0l0s @blahbel668  @emely9274 @nicksloverrr @pancjfrjb @luvr4miya @artloo123 @n0aa @sturn-rose @ivysturnss @thetriplets3 @starfuckoff @itsjulzandmydiamonds

Dividers by @issysh3ll

[puzzled-pegasus]

Percy and Paul headcanons because I need something sweet rn

The first time Percy called Paul dad was accidentally and they both looked at each other like 😧 and then paul gave percy a big hug and probably told sally really excitedly later

Paul texts very professionally and in complete sentences like a nerd. "Hello, Percy, I hope you are having a good day. Have you gotten your mom a Christmas gift yet? Also, do you have any ideas for what she might like me to get her? Thanks. 😊"

He goes to all of Percy's basketball games that he can and probably tries to play with him sometiemes idk I think that would be cute if they shot hoops together

This is more canon than headcanon but I feel like we all just collectively forgor that Paul has taken Percy crabbing before 🦀

Also imagine being a step parent and the bio parent is a literal god like how do you deal with that you'd feel so incomparable (although Posiedon is of course kinda deadbeat so oh well Paul wins that one)

Paul helping teach Percy how to drive

Sometimes when Percy asks his mom for help with something she's like "oh honey can you help him I'm busy" but she's actually just sneakily getting them to bond >:)

Omg imagine there being an argument and then Paul comes and apologizes to Percy and Percy with the Gabe trauma is like :000 wtf a grown man apologizing to Me⁉️

I think Percy would talk to Paul abt cars and paul tries to engage but he doesn't actually know that much abt cars lol

[zoppa682]

For any nonhumans struggling with species dysphoria, I want to help you all as much as I can. I've been experiencing it all week. It can be quite exhausting and put you in a lot of distress, in my case. X(

Here are some tips I'd recommend to help:

1. Mimic the diet of your kintype/theriotype. You are a shark? Eat seafood. A dragon? Maybe try to burn some food a little (or turn it black like my own preference if you want). You kin a character from [Insert source]? Try recreating foods/dishes from their world or dimension.

2. Listen to relatable music. I'd recommend making a playlist of any songs that feel species affirming/euphoric, or even echo that dysphoria further, therefore turning it relatable. (Few of my favorites are Bones by Imagine Dragons, Control by Halsey, Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA, Momento Mori by Fish in a Birdcage, among other songs that feel therian coded to me).

3. Do vocals. Howling, barking, screeching, or roaring are very relieving if you are in the correct space to do them! If you are in a quite space or do not want to out yourself to anyone, try purring, growling, hissing, or other unnoticeable sounds. You have an object kintype? Mimic the sounds of the object, like beeping, clicking, etc. (I personally make microwave sounds just because it is fun). Recite voice lines of your kintype from the source they are in. Mimic their voice and volume to match.

4. Move and physically act like your kintype/theriotype. Quadrobics, mimic the flapping of wings, walk bidepedally, whatever you do, turn your mannerisms and motion to reflect your kintype/theriotype.

5. Dress like your kintype/theriotype. Is your kintype a character? Cosplay them, or mimic their clothing style, clothing color, hairstyle, etc. If they have tattoos, scars, or patterns on their body, copy them on your physical form with paint or pens. (PLEASE USE NON TOXIC MATERIALS. STUFF SAFE FOR YOUR HUMAN SKIN.) Are you a species of animal(s)? Dress in your species' colors, or, once again, paint or color yourself like it/them. Are you perhaps any other form of creature or object? You can use the same tips as the others, and another idea that works for all is that you can buy costume pieces of your kintype/theriotype. Masks, headbands, just normal clothing in general, the options really are infinite.

6. Express your dysphoria through artwork. I love doing art when I am heavily species dysphoric. Drawing, crafting masks, origami, painting, collages, all are forms of art. If you are skilled in music, then you could even create some songs of your own!

7. Go out and explore nature. This one is mainly targeted towards therians, whose types are grounded on the life on earth rather than other dimensions or universes, but just like the other methods, it can be universally used by any types of nonhumans. Collecting things is my favorite way of exploring nature. Collect rocks, shells, sticks, leaves, bugs, plants, anything that makes you feel more comfortable in your own (unfortunate) physical body. Stay grounded in the world around you and you may find the dysphoria slips away. Hiking and going on short walks can also help, building a den, smelling the scents of the outdoors. All great ideas that I personally recommend.

8. Write about your feelings. Whether you are good at expressing yourself through poetry, you keep a diary/journal, or you can project onto OCs for new backstory lore like I do, writing can truly help with any dysphoria. Not only that, but it is sometimes refreshing to come back later and read about what you were feeling before. It can serve as a great reminder that you are a powerful being and you will always overcome the feelings if you try.

9. Research about your kintype/theriotype. It does not matter if you are an animal, concept, or object from earth, a being from fantasy, or a character from the greatest book or show, you learn something new every day. So why not learn about yourself? Read books or watch animal documentaries of your theriotype(s), same thing for you otherkins and your fantasy species. Fictionkins can look up facts about themself as a character, their book, show, game, etc.

10. Talk and interact with other alterhumans/nonhumans. Remember, we are a community, and while you are experiencing horrible episodes of species dysphoria, there are many other beings going through the exact same thing at the exact same time. So why not talk to them about it? Share your experiences, help eachother cope, you may even connect with more individuals that way, building more relationships with others and meeting new beings.

11. Past life meditation. If you are a nonhuman who has a past life/lives, you may find comfort in meditation, where you can truly tap into what you once were, and still are in this life as well. Look to the forgotten, and turn in to remembered. Open up your past and live over again.

12. Listen to sounds. Nature sounds, voices of other characters you know from your world, vocals or sound effects of your kintype. These are all good options to turn to if you want to feel at ease with yourself.

13. Let your emotions out. Sometimes this is all you really need to do when species dysphoria hits hard. Cry, bite things, claw at pillows, LET IT OUT. There is absolutely no problem in being yourself and expressing your heavy emotions in your own, unique, nonhuman way. You may find you feel much better after.

That's all I've got, but I hope whoever/whatever reads this far has an amazing day/night. You are an amazing being, thank you for embracing yourself and living authentically. <3

[rametarin]

Also I'd like something clarified VERY FUCKING HARD

Calling something "actually just christofascism" is such a dodge to say, "you can't be part of our ideology because you have a bad take, and our ideology can't have bad takes. Bad takes means it's not our ideology" is just No True Scotsmanning, and it feeds into this idea the plan can't be lead to a wrong result, or it must not be the plan and other people may have just tried to institute "other disgusting plan"

No. TERF logic is ONLY different from Intersectional Feminist logic in that TERFs do not consider you a woman just by your self-identified gender, and treat being a woman as something static and biological, not a mutable fact. They otherwise maintain everything else about Class Struggle Theory, greviance studies, and the idea of Critical Gender Theory.

They still hold that we arbitrarily live under a "patriarchy" because, "the nature of conflict is one must oppress and the other be the oppressor- woman is inarguably oppressed because they aren't in control, and as the designated oppressed demographic, that makes their intrinsic relationship to men as one of oppressed to oppressor."

It is the nature of this absolutist "IF X IS Y THEN Y MEANS Z ABSOLUTELY" of Class Struggle Theory that is the problem. It is the "lens by which to analyze" (a stupid truism pretending to be anything scientific whatsoever) that is wrong. And it's the same lens they hold up to the issue of why BDSM is wrong.

These people believe that you cannot allow something to exist in fiction, because they believe culture is more or less monolithic and society is this hivemind of intellectual objects. If you let a bad object into this collection, you "taint" or "poison" what they think society is- which is the great big metaphoric monolith that we all draw our perceptions and understandings from. Which is asinine, because this is not how individual human beings work, this is how sycophants and people with broken social wiring try to emulate one another to fake understanding things, the way sociopaths try to mimic emotions and their appropriate use without actually feeling or understanding them.

So they dogmatically approach this idea of how culture absolutely works, and they tie it into the idea of policing it to keep it "healthy." They maintain this convenient top-down idea of authority and the idea good-authority still uses power to police the dangereous or bad stuff from people "for their own sake." And they believe NOTHING can exist in fiction that doesn't count as something "Society" (capital S), the embodiment of the collective of what is Right(tm) and Acceptable(tm). In short, they believe the fact rape fiction exists, is why some random person will just suddenly feel like raping another human being. Because, "that's part of our culture, he's just acting within how the media and literary culture of our people are told they are allowed to operate," look you in the eye when they say that, and say THAT is the reason why you shouldn't be allowed to write spicy fanfiction if you happen to like sexual assault themes.

They will act like your very input of spicy smut has poisoned the culture, like chat GPT learning to use slurs and inappropriately using them at every opportunity. They argue their censorship and policing are required to prevent sexual assault and rape by sanitizing "the culture".

Do you understand how draconian and collectivist and psychotic that is? Do you understand how it's similar, but SO VERY DIFFERENT in origin, source and scope from the justification theocratic authoritarians operate?

Calling it just "another form of christofascism" deflects the true horror of what is being done here, and fails to really address how horrifying the implications are to this ideology. Akin to seeing something like a movement in, I don't know, Southern India to oppress and deprive North India of civil rights, property and life, and calling that, "another form of White Supremacism." (I chose South doing it to the North for a reason- because calling it white supremacism when it is a different source to a similar outcome is what it has in common with calling godless Marxist philosophy operating like theocratic Christian authoritarianism, is just like when you use call a browner demographic white supremacist for acting in its own demographic interest over another demographic.)

terfs are incredible

> “it doesn’t matter if they consented, you’re a bad person if you get off to causing other people pain”

so you agree? you don’t actually care about consent and you just have moral standards for what people do? you don’t think their consent matters because they’re doing something you personally find gross? that’s what you’re saying there?

damn girl hows the christofascism taste

[mx-pastelwriting]

Saving My Fanfiction Work

Due to the recent events in the United States. To clarify the recent events being Trump becoming president of the United States, Project 2025 more than likely going to be integrated. If you are not familiar with Project 2025 I urge you to look it up.

With all of its harmful plans some of the plans are to take down/restrict internet sites that have LGBTQ+ communities that means communities like the fan-fiction communities/sites in the United States.

I am only giving resources to those inside and out of the US in case they banned sites that hold fan-fiction. Better safe than sorry.

Being that I live in the US the possibly of mine and many others Fanfiction has the possibly of being in danger. Therefore I'm giving you recourses. (I'm not leaving or stopping my writing, I'm here for the fight!)

For those wanting to save my fanfiction, I give you permission to download them off of AO3 and to be used for your personal collection. Meaning, your eyes only.

If you do not know how to download them many others on online have tutorials on how to download them and add them to our phone libraries.

Here are some links to tutorials:

Downloading Fanfic

Adding to Iphone & Android Library

Adding to Kindle Library - Video on How (On TikTok)

Adding Book Covers (At the bottom) - Good EPUB Cover Changer (I use this)

Types of Files and What they mean

Please stay safe out there! Remember to follow the rules below.

DO NOT share the downloaded file anywhere online.

DO NOT repost the downloaded file under your name.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take illegal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.

Please stay safe out there friends! I love you so much! Know that there will always people that love you and in for the fight to make sure you are loved!

[judesmoonbeauty]

Ikémen Series Expo 2024 - A “Villains” Original Short Story

This is a fan translation. 100% accuracy is not guaranteed. Cybird owns everything. This is exclusive content for IFC members that gained it via point accumulation during the event. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not share my translations. Thank you! ☾

This story features: Ellis, Liam, Harrison & Ring. The stories are dialogue only (Cybird's doing not mine.)

Ellis: Oh, it’s my acrylic stand.

Liam: It is, and this is my card.

Ring: There’s also buttons. 

Liam: I don’t know which one I want.

Ellis: For now, why not collect and organize your own merch?

Liam: Good idea, then….what should I get?

Ring: Isn’t this armor cool.

Ellis: It’s Mr. Nobunaga’s acrylic stand, his armor isn’t something found in the West.

Ring: Ah, it doesn’t exist in the UK or Germany. Are there other types of armor that exist.

Liam: It’s nice they each have their own colored armor, I wonder what our colors would be.

Ellis: I think you’d be pink Liam. Ring is…

Harrison: What are you excited about?

Liam: Ah, Harry!

Harrison: Your hands aren’t moving. Aren’t going to work hard so the robins can enjoy it.

Liam: Sorry, I got really excited.

Ellis: Harry, you’re all done?

Harrison: I organized the goods so they’re easy to grab.

Harrison: You guys only put your own merch up…..

Ellis: I want people to see and get my goods first…..

Liam: I put my merch upfront because I want them to see how well made it is…

Ring: ….I….for some reason

Harrison: Haaa. Come on, put it back. This won’t be done no matter how long it takes.

Liam: Okaaay.

Ellis: Yeah.

Ring: Sure.

Liam: Hey, doesn’t this Harry merch look good? 

Ellis: These Jude goods are so cute. 

Ring: Nica’s merch is nice too.

Harrison: Hey. 

Liam: Will’s card looks so stylish. 

Ellis: Roger’s acrylic stand looks just like him.

Ring: Dari’s too….

Harrison: ….Oi.

Liam: Oh, Lord Elbie is beautiful! His beauty doubles when merch is made of him.

Ellis: Victor’s hair looks so smooth seeing it like this. 

Ring: Alfons’ personality comes out in his goods too…..

Harrison: …..Set up!

Liam: Oh, sorry!

Ellis: Sorry.

Ring: I-I’m sorry.

Harrison: The space you guys touched is nothing but a mess.

Harrison: Who said they’d work hard to get set up.

Liam: Me…..

Ellis: Me…..

Ring: I did…

Harrison: ….Liam line up the larger goods. Ellis, clean the shelves, and Ring handle the smaller items.

Liam: On it! Ring, let’s do our best.

Ring: Oh, by the way, where should I put this?

Liam: Is that this one.

Ellis: I’ll dust the upper shelves.

Harrison: It’s finally getting it done…..

Harrison: Why am I in charge?

Ellis: Harry?

Harrison: Hm, something happen?

Ellis: I hope the robins will be happy.

Harrison: ….Oh, that’s right.

Ellis: I hope they’ll be the happiest when they see our merchandise stand.

Harrison: I’m not sure about the happiest, but they’ll be happy.

Ellis: Heh, I’m looking forward to it now.

Harrison: ….I see.

Liam: Harry, come here!

Harrison: Yeah, what is it now?

Liam: Do they look better placed this way, or that way?

Harrison: Either way is fine….

Liam: No it’s not, I have to arrange them in a way that’s easy for the robin to look at them.

Harrison: In that case, I think it’d be better to put the larger items on an upper shelf.

Harrison: Since they’re shorter than us, it might be harder for them to reach the items on top shelf.

Liam: That’s true, thanks Harry.

Harrison: No problem, you okay?

Harrison: Your fingers are shaking as you line up the merch?

Ring: I’ve never done a task like this before.

Harrison: You don’t have to fine tune it so much.

Ring: But, I want them to think that the display looks pretty when they see it.

Harrison: ….Want me to help too.

Ring: No, I’ll do each of these here…..ah.

Liam: Huh!

Ellis: Wah!

Harrison: ….Bad move.

Liam: All the goods you lined up fell like a trail of dominoes.

Ellis: The dust pile fell down, due to the impact,

Ring: There’s a lot of dust the fell on top of the merch…..

Harrison: Worst’s come to worst……

Ring: I-I’m sorry! It’s my fault, I’ll clean it up quickly! 

Liam: Wait! You’re going to bump into something,

Ring: [Gasp!]

Ellis: Ring’s arm bumped into a lower shelf, and now it’s all messed up.

Ring: S-sorry!

Liam: It’s okay, let’s start again, we’ve got dust in our heads.

Ring: Ah…..

Liam: Haha, we’re all matching.

Ring: ….Haha, it’s true.

Ellis: It’s kind of funny.

Liam: Harry’s the dustiest…..Harry?

Ellis: Harry？

Ring: What’s wrong？

Harrison: ……I, am NOT your guys’ babysitter!

Fin.

Quick, someone get Harry a double shot of extra extra super sweet strawberry milk, a cupcake, and a Sherlock Holmes novel STAT! ....Poor Ring lmao.

Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Tags list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @raeraeks

If you wish to be added to my translations tag list, please comment or DM me.

[theriu]

Now that we’ve reached the end of Dracula, I have some thoughts on a certain scene. (Major spoilers below if you haven’t read the book or the ending yet!)

I think it’s so, so important that Quincey Morris honors Mina’s request to promise that he will kill her if she turns, especially in light of Jonathan’s determination not to.

Occasional posts talk about how Jonathan was determined to follow Mina into vampirism, and speak of it in glowing terms as a sign of his love for her. And I agree, Jonathan’s love for his wife is beautiful and admirable. But in this one case, at least, his means of showing that love is shortsighted and selfish.

What would be gained by him following Mina into her doom? He wants her to not be alone? This is as sadly misguided as those claiming they will go to hell in order to be with their loved ones. Hell and vampirism are by nature isolating because in them, there is no longer any capacity for love or goodness or comfort. All good impulses and deeds are lost to those who become vampires. We see it even in how Dracula himself, a foul and wretched monster, seemed to find a breath of peace as he died—for JUST A MOMENT, his soul was freed of the curse and he could FEEL peace again. Mina would be no less alone with Jonathan also chained to the curse of vampirism. She wouldn’t even be capable of grieving his fate, because Mina and Jonathan would be completely overshadowed by the evil that consumes people who are turned into vampires.

And aside from that, Jonathan’s love is selfish because even if he could comfort Mina in her curse by joining her, he would still knowingly and willingly be dooming countless other people to suffer as he did. He would willingly become the same monster as Dracula, capable of terrorizing and murdering across the centuries, causing the same pain he and his friends and the Romanian villagers have felt countless times over. And he would knowingly and willingly be allowing the vampire that was once Mina to do the same by breaking his promise to kill her. And the fact that he hid his intentions from Mina suggests he already knows that, but was willing to allow it for the sake of the one person HE loves best.

That is why I find his actions to be selfish rather than noble. He'd be sacrificing the lives of countless people he doesn't personally care for just for the sake of the one person he personally cares for. The common denominator is the idea that only what he loves matters.

And that’s why Quincey’s promise is so important, and why his act of giving his life to help kill Dracula is even more noble. He not only destroyed Dracula and saved Mina—he saved Jonathan from himself, and who knows how many innocents from them both. He saved Jonathan from making a horrific mistake that would have doomed both Mina and Jonathan, as well as their victims, to a living hell.

And I like to think that, once the danger was past and Jonathan could contemplate things and talk it over with Mina (after all, these details were all available in the diary entries they collected), he would understand better what a mistake Quincey ultimately saved him from, and how Quincey Morris was an even greater hero than anyone could ever comprehend. Because Quincey Morris didn't stop one vampire.

He stopped three.

[shares-a-vest]

Pineapple Breath & Onion Boy (Read on ao3)

wc: 1.2k | Rated: T for Flirtatious Banter/Suggestive Language | cw: Mild reference to Period-Typical Homophobia (if you squint - Eddie is just conscious about being affectionate with Steve in a public space), Food Mention, Inferred Smoking (Eddie is playing with a lighter)

Tags: Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Pizza, Contemplating the Future, Side Clarkson, Pet Names, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Domestic Fluff, Lightest Angst in the first half

Note: Working on my drabble yesterday had me rudely confronting myself with a Drafts. Buuut it gave me the motivation to come back to this one! Yay writing!

-🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕-

Eddie leans back on one of the faded red plastic chairs outside Gino’s Pizzeria and flicks his cigarette lighter.

He then turns it off, then back on again. Then off again… Anything to distract himself from the desperate grumbling in his belly – a feeling that has grown painful now that he can smell pepperoni wafting outside.

The chair gives a warning wobble beneath him, the back legs of the thing holding his weight as he looks up at Steve, who looks all cozy in his cream-coloured corded sweater and maroon jacket. Even if he is standing there with his arms folded and a frown knitting his brows as he looks on down Main Street.

Wayne and Scott had disappeared in that direction a few minutes ago, trekking down the block to fetch their Chinese takeout, while Eddie and Steve waited for their pizzas.

Pizzas plural. Because Eddie refuses to partake in Steve’s new and frankly, disgusting preference for pineapple.

It has been their little quartet’s Friday Night routine for a couple of months now and Eddie thinks he must end up looking the same each and every time: staring up at his boyfriend. Steve looks pretty as a picture as his eyes glisten under the streetlight and his breath puffs out in a feint cloud in the crisp night air.

He looks a dream, really.

Not that he ever looks anything less, thank you very much!

Eddie knows Steve is lost in some thought, the kind that pinches his brows together and downturns his mouth into a mindless pout rather than one that is truly grumpy.

At least Eddie thinks it’s all that before Steve sucks in a breath and sighs, deep and wistful as his beautiful hazel eyes grow bigger.

That look makes Eddie tip forward in his chair with a sharp snap. He shoves his lighter back into the breast pocket of his leather jacket, frowning himself now as he tilts his head to the side, hoping to catch his boyfriend’s attention.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

He is met with silence for a moment before Steve gives a soft and wistful sigh.

“You think when we’re old, we’ll be like Wayne and Scott?” Steve asks, still looking down the street.

“Jesus Christ, no!” Eddie scoffs, “I don’t plan on gettin’ old.”

Steve whips around and looks down at him with an even deeper frown and, yep – that’s a Worried Pout.

“What?” he near whimpers.

Eddie jumps up, groaning a little as his back pangs with deep regret over him tilting back on that stupid rickety chair. He waves a hand nonchalantly.

But Steve doesn’t budge. He looks hurt.

Eddie steps into his personal space and offers a small smile - one that he knows will showcase his dimples and make Steve melt like mozzarella cheese.

“Y’know what I mean,” he clarifies, “I do not intend to become some old fart, whose idea of a good time is going on a fishing trip while his boyfriend collects frogs.”

Steve somehow tightens the fold of his arms as he looks him over.

“Eddie, you like looking for frogs,” he retorts, his brows easing up a little, “Anyway, don’t you think they’re cute?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Oh, here we go.”

“I mean it,” Steve defends, “Scott gets home from school and putters about for a while. Then, he finishes up some work exactly one hour before Wayne walks in the door. And then, they go about deciding on their takeout order – even though they always get the same thing! And when we get home, they’ll eat in front of the television, Wayne will clean up and then they watch the TV until Wayne starts to doze off and they go to bed.”

He finishes up with a sigh and looks back down Main Street again, appearing a little sheepish now as if he got a little too carried away with his longing there for a moment. It’s a look that tightens something in Eddie’s chest – one that makes him step even closer.

Or at least as close as he should get to his boyfriend out on the main thoroughfare of Hawkins.

He sucks in a breath and looks ahead too, wanting to kiss that look off Steve’s face.

But for the moment, he settles for a bump to the shoulder.

“We’re gonna be all that one day, aren’t we?” he says just above a whisper.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, upbeat but nonetheless quiet.

Eddie leans in, “Follow me, sugar.”

He tugs on Steve’s jacket sleeve and promptly spins on his heel to disappear around the corner of the building. The dumpsters behind the local pizza shop aren’t the most romantic of settings – but sue him for having a Rolodex of potential public makeout spots at the ready.

Eddie can feel Steve’s warm breath on his neck as they reach the far end of the building, sending a shiver down his spine. He turns to lean against the wall and palms around for any part of Steve to come along with him.

Steve crowds him against the building and as soon as he pushes them flush together, Eddie becomes all too aware of how whisps of his hair stick to the cool brick behind him. He gasps.

“Oh, no! What if I lose my hair!” he shrieks.

Steve grumbles, insulted, “What if I lose my hair?”

“Wha-cha – Stevie!” Eddie splutters, “My hair is just as important as yours!”

Steve smirks and reaches for his hairline, brushing back his bangs. He scrunches his nose.

“Hmm,” he hums with closer inspection, “It’s looking okay… for now.”

Eddie hisses at him.

“Get your damn dirty paws off-a me,” he grouses. Eddie flicks his bangs back into place with an exaggerated hmfph before he straightens up and snakes his arms around Steve’s middle, pulling him tighter still, “Steve, I promise as I stand here before you, behind the hallowed halls of Gino’s Pizzeria – ”

“ – Eddie, the owner’s name is Frank.”

“Fine! Frank – he of bountiful cheese and delicious tomato sauce. I do declare that I will still love you, even if I turn into a balding old grump with a permanent frown and bad knees.”

“And will you still love me if I become a middle school teacher, all chipper and cheery?”

“Meh, that wouldn’t be so bad,” Eddie shrugs.

“What if I grew a moustache?” Steve grins.

“That’s taking it too far!” Eddie practically shouts, squeezing the air out of his boyfriend in the process.

Steve gives a wheezing giggle as he runs his thumb and index finger over the soft stubble he has above his plush top lip. Eddie captures the mocking digits in his own hand and bites down, earning a wicked whine.

Steve shivers and gives a warning, “Edward…”

“Now,” Eddie begins, lowering the register of his voice, “Ravish me!”

Steve leans forward and presses the most chaste of kisses to the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll ravish you later,” he pulls back and winks.

But Eddie recoils, nearly knocking his head back against the pizzeria’s brick wall.

“When you have pineapple breath?” he spits with a dramatic grimace.

“Says you, Onion Boy.”

“Fine,” Eddie relents, “We’re both stinky.”

The rusty bell of the pizza shop’s front door sounds and Eddie is sure Wayne and Scott have already made it back, always more efficient in calling ahead with their own takeout order.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Steve smiles, lacing their fingers together.