#would have made this a reply but op blocked me and had no way to comment to someone else

[wolvietxt]

𝓭ay 𝓮ighteen.

daryl dixon and jealousy.

it had been happening more and more lately - this strange distance that seemed to creep in between you and daryl, settling into the spaces where you used to find easy conversation and shared glances. it wasn’t obvious at first; it was subtle, just a shift in the way his eyes wouldn’t linger on you as long, or how he would walk off without a word right after talking to you.

like today. you had been standing near the campfire, listening to jim explain his plans for fortifying the perimeter. it was a practical conversation, nothing out of the ordinary, but you could feel daryl’s gaze on you from across the camp.

when you finally glanced his way, he was already turning on his heel and heading off toward the treeline, his back stiff and his steps heavy. you hesitated for a moment, your brow furrowing, before excusing yourself from the conversation with jim.

you caught up with daryl a little ways out, where the camp started to fade into the woods. he was crouched down, messing with his crossbow strap, but there was something almost too deliberate in the way he fiddled with it.

“hey,” you said, stepping closer. “you’ve been disappearing a lot lately.”

“had stuff to do,” he replied without looking up, his tone rough and clipped.

you exhaled slowly. “you didn’t have to leave back there. jim was just talking about the camp’s defenses.”

“yeah, i heard,” daryl muttered, standing up and slinging the crossbow over his shoulder. “figured you had it covered.”

something in his voice stung, a hint of dismissiveness that made your chest tighten. you stepped in front of him, forcing him to meet your eyes. “what’s going on with you lately?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended. “you’ve been… distant.”

his gaze flicked away from yours, his jaw tightening. “ain’t distant,” he grumbled, trying to sidestep you.

“you are,” you insisted, taking a step to block him again. “if there’s something you’re not telling me - ”

“ain’t nothin’ to tell,” he interrupted, his tone sharper now. “just don’t got time to be hangin’ around talkin’ all day.”

you flinched at the way he brushed you off, the words hitting harder than you expected. “right,” you said quietly, feeling a bitter edge rise in your throat. “wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

daryl’s expression faltered for a split second, his eyes searching your face before his brow furrowed again. “didn’t mean it like that,” he mumbled, but there was still a tension in his stance, a reluctance that didn’t quite go away.

the silence stretched between you, heavy and unspoken, before daryl shook his head and turned to walk away again. this time, you didn’t follow him.

over the next couple of days, things didn’t improve. if anything, it got worse. you would catch him looking your way when he thought you weren’t paying attention, his expression almost unreadable, but whenever you tried to talk to him, he seemed to find some excuse to leave.

it wasn’t until a week later, when you were sitting on the outskirts of camp, that it all came to a head. you had been talking with jim again, going over the same defense plans - honestly, it was just to fill the silence in your day. but the whole time, you were acutely aware of daryl’s presence across the camp, the way he was watching you.

as jim finally wandered off, daryl approached, his strides purposeful. there was something different in his posture - something coiled tight, like a spring.

“he’s got you talkin’ his ear off every damn day now,” he said, his voice low and rough. “didn’t know you had so much to say about barbed wire.”

you blinked, taken aback by the tone in his voice. “what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, your voice edging with confusion.

“just seems like you found yourself a real good listener, is all,” he replied, not quite looking at you. “thought maybe you’d rather be talkin’ to him than wastin’ time on me.”

the words hit you like a slap, the bitterness in his tone cutting deeper than you expected. you opened your mouth to argue, to defend yourself, but the sting in your chest was making it hard to find the right words.

“that’s not - ” your voice wavered, and you hated how small it sounded. “why would you say that?”

daryl’s gaze finally met yours, but there was a darkness in his eyes, something wounded and raw. “don’t matter, does it?” he said, his voice rough around the edges. “you’re off talkin’ with whoever you want, don’t need me gettin’ in the way.”

the hurt welled up in your chest, stinging hot behind your eyes. you took a step back, your breath catching. “that’s not fair,” you managed to choke out, your voice breaking as tears blurred your vision. “you know that’s not true.”

he saw the tears brimming in your eyes, and the tension drained from his shoulders almost immediately, replaced by a look of sudden regret. “hell, i didn’t mean to - ” he started, his tone shifting softer, almost desperate. “i shouldn’t’ve said that.”

you shook your head, trying to blink away the tears. “then why did you?”

daryl let out a harsh breath, running a hand over his face. “because - ” he hesitated, like the words were fighting to stay locked behind his teeth. “because i keep seein’ you with him, and it’s like… i dunno. like you don’t even notice i’m around anymore.”

the confession hung in the air between you, heavy and vulnerable, and it was the closest he’d come to admitting how much he cared. it made your heart ache in a different way, the kind that was sweet and painful all at once.

“of course i notice you,” you whispered, your voice still trembling. “you’re the only one i’m always looking for.”

daryl’s eyes met yours again, and this time, there was no mistaking the relief in his expression, the way his features softened as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. “yeah?” he asked quietly, like he needed to hear you say it again.

you nodded, taking a step closer. “yeah,” you murmured. “but you’ve been pulling away, and i thought… i thought maybe you didn’t want me around anymore.”

“damn it,” daryl muttered under his breath, reaching out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had escaped. “you think i’d ever push you away if i didn’t have to?” his voice was low and sincere, roughened by emotion.

your breath hitched as you leaned into his touch, your hand coming up to rest over his. “then don’t,” you whispered. “don’t push me away.”

for a moment, the only sound was the quiet rustling of the wind through the trees. then daryl leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “i’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “shouldn’t’ve said any of that… should’ve just told you what i was feelin’.”

“it’s okay,” you breathed, closing your eyes as you savored the warmth of his touch. “just… don’t make me wonder again.”

“never,” he promised, his hand gently slipping behind your neck as he pulled you into a tender, lingering kiss, the kind that spoke all the words you both had been too afraid to say.

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[takingchences]

𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐩𝐭. 𝟗

A descendant of a legendary quirk longs to separate herself from her family name, but first she'll have to confront villains, ghosts from the past, and her growing attraction for Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x OP!fem!oc

Warnings: mature language

series masterlist + my masterlist

After the attack, U.A gave the students the following two days off to rest and recover from their traumatic ordeal. Their first day back, Sana was horrified by the state of their homeroom teacher. Mr. Aizawa was wrapped head to toe in gauze, his eyes mere slits, with both of his arms in casts.

He looks like a freshly dead mummy.

She applauded his badassery and dedication, but after hearing from the others how serious his injuries were, she'd assumed (like a normal person) that the Pro Hero would at least be on bed leave for a few days. Considering how sleep deprived he seemed all the time, she thought he'd be thrilled. Apparently not.

He reminded them that the world famous U.A Sports Festival was drawing closer, and after recent events, all eyes would be on them. But no pressure, right? She balanced her chin on her fist.

Classes resumed like normal, as though USJ never happened. It wasn't until the final bell rang that things got, well, strange. Students from all grades and classes swarmed their classroom door, blocking them in. Shinso made a dramatic appearance, where he proceeded to declare war on their class and challenge the entire Hero Course for a spot. He'd made his intentions of joining the hero course clear very early into their friendship.

From how her classmates had described the entrance exam, people with quirks like Shinso's were doomed from the start. He never stood a chance making it into the Hero Course... until now.

He was determined to get noticed this time around, and Sana was willing to help him reach his goal however she could. She gave him tips to improve his training regimen and offered to spar with him whenever he wanted. The two had lunch together at his usual spot two or three times a week, and spent the majority of it exchanging memes and gushing over cute cat videos. Shinso was funny in a dry, sarcastic way that she appreciated. He was easy to talk to and his laid back attitude put her at ease.

He wasn't ready to join her at her table just yet, but she always kept a seat open just in case.

After finishing her homework, showering, and eating dinner, Sana set her grand plan in motion. Stretching out across her bed on her stomach, with her phone in one hand and a piece of paper in the other, she started typing.

Sent 8:03pm

Hey hotshot

Sent 8:06pm

The fuck

Sent 8:08pm

How the fuck did you get this number

Sent 8:09pm

I'm surprised you're still awake. You walk around like a grumpy old man with arthritic knees so I figured you'd be in bed by six

Sent 8:09pm

WHO THE FUCK IS THIS

Sent 8:10pm

If I told you I'd have to kill you

Sent 8:11

I'd kill you first

Sent 8:12pm

Good luck with that considering you have no idea who I am

Sent 8:13pm

Fuck you

Sent 8:13pm

How the hell did you get my number

Sent 8:15pm

I gave Midoriya an offer he couldn't refuse

Sent 8:16pm

FUCKING DEKU! ILL EXPLODE HIS ASS

Sent 8:16pm

That's kinky

Sana smirked down at the screen as the message bubbles danced, anticipating his reply. She giggled quietly to herself, picturing him stomping around his room throwing a fit. She could practically hear his demonic screeching through the device.

Irritating Bakugou brought her a special type of joy. The only other experiences that could compare were rebelling against her father, or cracking Shoto's mask of indifference. The ability to provoke such intense emotions in someone was addictive.

It took a few minutes for the boy to respond.

Sent 8:21pm

I'm losing fucking brain cells talking to you

Sent 8:21pm

Well I know you only have so many to spare so I'll make this quick

Sent 8:21pm

Train with me

Sent 8:23pm

The fuck

Sent 8:25pm

You know that's not technically a question right?

Sent 8:26pm

Meet me at Yoshida Park at 10:00am

Sent 8:26pm

Fuck off

Sent 8:27pm

You're right. What could you possibly teach me? I'd be better off asking Midoriya

Sent 8:27pm

YOUR ASS BETTER NOT BE LATE OR ILL FUCKING STRANGLE YOU

Sent 8:28pm

Another kink? I'm learning a lot about you Bakugou

Sent 8:29pm

FUCK OFF

Sent 8:31pm

Lmao

Sent 8:31pm

Good night hotshot

The blonde tossed his phone across the room, screaming curses at the unknown number.

"Shut up, ya damn brat!" His mother's loud voice scolded him from downstairs. "Isn't it past your bedtime?!"

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Bakugou walked with purpose towards Yoshida Park. He was familiar with it, having spent most of his childhood exploring the grounds with his followers. It was a short walk, but he'd had all night to plan. The unknown number had disrupted his sleep schedule after all.

First, he'd go to the park and murder whatever extra had been unlucky enough to mess with him. Then, on his way back, he'd pay Midoriya a special visit.

He had a list of suspects he'd been going back and forth on. First on the list was Shitty Hair, but Bakugou quickly realized it couldn't have been the spiky-haired boy. The redhead was putting in a lot of effort to befriend him—even more so after their team up during USJ—but the boy was far too shy. Second and third on his list were Dunce Face and Scotch Tape. They shared one brain cell between them, and both were confident enough to say such provocative things, but not so dumb that they'd ask to meet him face to face afterwards.

They had to know it would only end in bloodshed... theirs to be exact.

That left Raccoon Eyes or Flashlight. He hadn't interacted much with the pink-skinned girl, only in group settings, and even then, she'd barely stop to acknowledge him before getting into shit with Dunce Face or her "wifey."

One by one he marked names off until only one dumbass remained.

He stopped at the entrance of the park, spotting said girl leaning against a tree. Thick lashes fanned out across her cheekbones, her arms loosely crossed. A red and white gym bag was slung over her shoulder. She wore black leggings paired with a cherry red sports jacket, her hair held back by her signature ribbon. Bakugou himself sported his usual baggy black sweatpants and low cut black tank.

Her eyes fluttered open, the jewel-like irises sparkling in the morning sun. "Right on time." She pushed off of the tree. "Have you stretched?"

"I'm not here to train." He glowered down at her, their faces inches apart. Sana's expression remained neutral, but her amusement was obvious in the curve of her lips. "I'm here to kick your ass-"

"Again with the ass thing," Sana tutted, shaking her head in disapproval. "Is that all you can think about?"

"Shut the fu-"

"Language, asshole." she hissed, smacking his arm as a family of four walked by them. Sana gave him a coy smile. "There are children present."

Bakugou was seconds away from blowing a fuse, crackling sounds filling the air as his palms smoked. "Come on," she slid her hand down his arm with a soft, feather-like touch to grab his wrist. "Let's get started."

Bakugou muttered threats and curses under his breath, but continued to follow her to a secluded area with a dense tree line. A few feet ahead, the trees parted to reveal a decent sized clearing. "How did you get that damn nerd to give you my number?" The blonde grumbled, ripping his arm from her grip.

"Oh, that?" She shrugged. "I bribed him with a limited edition All Might collectible." She remembered how flushed the greenette became after she cornered him after class the other day. He'd been a sweaty, stuttering mess until she'd unzipped her backpack and shown him what she'd hidden inside. Seeing Bakugou's pissed off face now, it was definitely worth all the yen.

"... which one."

Sana blinked. His gruff voice was so quiet that she nearly didn't catch the words. The boisterous blonde she'd come to know was now scowling passionately at a tree, but his mouth was... is he pouting?!

Her lips split into a chesshire grin. "My, my. Is the mighty Bakugou secretly a fanboy?"

His brows furrowed even further at the teasing. "Do you ever shut the hell up?" His hair seemed to puff up even more in anger. Cute. "I'm nothing like that nerd!"

"Aren't you the nerdy one, though?" Sana tapped her chin with her pointer finger, eyes rolled upwards as she pretended to think. "I'm pretty sure you scored higher than him on last week's test."

She smirked in delight as Bakugou's body began to vibrate in anger, his nostrils flaring.

She stretched her body, warming up her muscles in preparation for what was probably going to be one of the hardest training sessions of her life. Bakugou wasn't the type to do anything without giving it his all. It was as admirable as it was daunting. She rolled her shoulders back, her neck popping with a satisfying crack. "Ready?"

The blonde smirked, his hands sparking to life. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

Fighting Bakugou proved to be even more of a challenge than she'd anticipated. He was strong and fast, every movement well thought out and well executed. He was also relentless, refusing to give her any time to recover or even think. It was purely instinctive, forcing her to rely on her reflexes. She was suddenly grateful for the decade of combat training Endeavor had instilled in every fiber of her being.

It was different, to say the least.

She was so used to going up against Shoto. Back when they were still talking, she'd been able to anticipate his movements with one look. Maybe that was part of the problem. Were they so intune with each other that there was no longer room for improvement? Had they reached a point in their training where they were unable to learn from each other going forward?

Sana groaned, returning to the problem at hand. She threw the blonde a dirty look for the particularly hard kick he'd just delivered to her side. He huffed a laugh, his lips parted in a crooked smile. "Not so cocky now, huh?"

"That's funny coming from you." She lunged, finally landing a hit to his jaw. They'd been at it for hours now, and Bakugou showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. There was no way he wasn't as exhausted as she was, but she knew he'd rather die than admit to such a thing. As if being human was equivalent to him being weak.

After another half hour of this, she finally gave up.

"Okay, okay." Sana backed away, holding her palms up in surrender. He stopped mid punch, his eyes narrowed. "Let's take a break."

He clicked his tongue, watching as she approached the gym bag she'd abandoned in the shade, walking back to him and dropping it at his feet. The pastel teen crouched to unzip the bag, removing two towels, some protein bars, and two water bottles. He caught the towel she tossed him with ease, swiping the fabric across his face and jaw. She plopped down on the ground, motioning for him to do the same. With an annoyed grunt, he complied, snatching the water and snack out of her hands.

She shook her head in amusement, knowing he wasn't nearly as frustrated as he pretended to be. "So dramatic," she muttered under her breath.

Surprisingly, the silence between them wasn't uncomfortable. It was actually pretty nice. She could hear the small sounds of nature around them: the low buzz of insects and the soft rustling of tree branches above their heads. It was something she'd never associated with Bakugou before...

Peaceful.

After practically inhaling their protein bars, the two teens laid down on their backs in the grass. The sky had darkened to a dark blue, a few stars already visible.

Sana turned her head to peek at the boy next to her. Both of their chests were heaving lightly, their skin dewy with sweat. He had his arms folded behind his head with his eyes closed. As if feeling her gaze, he cracked one eye open and grimaced.

"What're you staring at?" Even in the limited light, she could've sworn his cheeks were now dusted in a rosy hue.

"Nothing," she averted her gaze, her own face burning under his scrutiny. "It's just... I'm glad you stayed." Sana admitted softly. Never in her life had she felt so bashful. It took everything in her not to squirm uncomfortably as she waited for him to say something. Anything. Bakugou scoffed, his eyes hooded as he watched the sky slowly darken. Sana joined him in stargazing. After a few minutes, the blonde cleared his throat.

"I guess it wasn't a complete waste of time."

Sana snickered. "That was really hard for you to admit, wasn't it?" A tch was his only response, but in the limited light, it almost looked like he was smiling. They stayed like that until the sky glittered with stars, like diamonds against midnight velvet. The two teens climbed to their feet, dusting dirt and grass off of their clothes. Sana called out just as Bakugou made to leave.

"Wait." The blonde turned to glance over his shoulder. The solar-powered girl riffled through her gym bag before pulling out a medium-sized package. "Here," she held it out for him to take. Bakugou removed his hand from his pocket and took the box. Flipping it around, his eyes widened. His jaw loosened in shock.

"The hell...?"

Sana rubbed her neck, avoiding looking directly at the blonde. "I figured I owed you for coming down here." She peeked at him from beneath her lashes. "You don't have that one, right?"

Bakugou clutched the box containing the limited edition Silver Age All Might figurine tightly. He remembered demanding his parents for one as a child. How they'd waited in line outside the store for hours, only for the shelves to be completely empty once they made it inside. How every store they went to was the same: the toy having sold out nationwide just hours after being released.

But here one was, after a decade of searching, in perfect condition... right in the palm of his hand.

"Bakugou?"

He slowly lifted his head, vermillion eyes clashing with dark pink. A million questions raced through his mind. How had she known?

Sana bit her lip to contain her giddiness. She inched closer to him until there was hardly any space left between them. She inhaled the sweet scent of caramel and cologne that always clung to him. "Your number isn't the only thing Midoriya told me," she lifted herself on the balls of her feet, her breath hitting his cheek. "Katsuki."

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

They met up the next day, and the day after, until it became almost routine for them. They'd meet at Yoshida Park, or make the trip together straight after school if neither had plans. It came as a surprise to them both how well they got along when no one else was around. Sure, they still had the occasional spat, but it was mostly playful bickering and teasing to rile the other up. They both had a dark sense of humor, an almost unhealthy competitive streak, and a punch first, ask questions later approach to situations.

One afternoon, Bakugou had to leave earlier than usual. He'd grumbled something about 'dinner with the old hag' before storming off. Sana figured his grandparents were in town or something and decided to take off early too.

She texted Mina, asking her if she was free to hang out. The pinkette responded to her message at lightning speed, sending her the address of a cute new bakery she'd been dying to try. The walk took fifteen minutes or so. She spotted Mina waiting outside, the pink-skinned girl squealing as soon she noticed her. They shared a hug before entering the shop, quickly ordering drinks and a few desserts to share. Mina led her over to a table by the window, her hands clasped under her chin.

"So," she narrowed her black and yellow eyes suspiciously. "Where's your shadow?"

"My what?" Sana leaned forward. Mina followed suit, lowering her voice as if her next words were top secret.

"Bakugou, duh."

"What?" Sana fell back in her chair with a laugh.

Mina waved her hand around dismissively. "You know what I mean. Wherever you are, he's bound to show up sooner or later." The waiter appeared with their order, interrupting the energetic girl before she could go on.

Sana reflected on her friend's words as she sipped on her bubble tea. It was true that Bakugou always seemed to be around whenever she needed him. He'd helped her during the stampede in the halls, as well as telling off that reporter for her. He'd been by her side before the class was separated by the warp villain. While she'd been recovering after the USJ attack, Shoto had briefly mentioned something about her helping Bakugou, though she didn't remember much. The blonde hadn't said a word to her about it, and she'd been too preoccupied with not thinking about USJ.

"I guess I..." she answered softly. "I hadn't noticed."

Mina paused mid-sentence, having already moved onto another topic. Some third year gossip she'd heard from Hagakure, who'd overheard some upperclassman whispering about it during break.

She'd noticed how her friend had been pushing herself harder since the villain attack. How busy she was with training. Mina hadn't been there with her when she was attacked, but she'd seen the damage inflicted on the villains. Afterwards, Kirishima mentioned how strange Sana had acted right before the teachers' arrival. "You'd tell me, right?" Mina pressed, her pretty face troubled. "If something was wrong?"

It was odd hearing the bright, cheerful girl suddenly sound so serious. It didn't fit her character at all. Sana forced a radiant smile, wanting any doubts about her or their friendship to disappear. She trusted Mina, she really did, but she didn't want to burden her with her problems, especially when she was still trying to figure them out herself.

"Of course," Sana assured her. "We're best friends after all."

A scarred, yet handsome face came to mind. She wondered if it was normal for best friends to hide things from each other. In Recovery Girl's office, Shoto had implied that she'd betrayed him in some way. If only she knew what the hell he was talking about.

[quickspinner]

Substitute Santa

For @verfound, queen of hilarious prompts, as part of the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Secret Santa.

Her prompt was: Jagged Stone is Santa Claus. However you want to interpret this: Jagged is literally Santa and Luka is his son (a la Hallmark "find a Mrs. Clause for Christmas"). Jagged is dressed up as Santa for an event/Because Jagged. Luka caught Jagged dressed as Santa as a kid and now firmly believes it (Jagged snuck in with gifts for his kids? Last Christmas before Jagged left? Party Anarka drug him to?).

So here we go!

Luka was not pleased at the best of times to be called out of the workshop, up to his father’s “office” (he would have said playground, but it made Penny frown at him). But to be called up today, of all days? 

This really can’t be good , he thought, sighing through his nose as he climbed the spiraling stairs. 

He didn’t bother to knock, since knocking could almost never be heard over the racket of the workshop below and Jagged’s own…extraness. When he walked in, though, he blinked in mild surprise. The iconic red suit with white fur lining was missing, as was Jagged’s usual ebullient attitude. Normally Jagged was bouncing off the walls on Christmas Eve, ready to rock his way around the world while his cool but stressed assistant tried desperately not to lose her lunch in the passenger seat of the sleigh.

Tonight, though, Jagged was sprawled with his long legs hanging over the overstuffed armchair that they normally only used for photo ops, wearing his favorite purple striped pajamas instead of The Suit.

Luka turned and almost walked right back out again, but Penny and her clipboard had somehow appeared behind him, blocking the exit. 

“No,” Luka said to her, but to his annoyance, it was pleading rather than firm. 

Jagged let out a concussive sneeze that shook all the knicknacks in the room, and blew his nose like a trumpet before pointing a woeful glance at his son.Luka knew exactly what it would look like, though he refused to turn around to confirm.

“No,” Luka—whined. He was whining. He was man enough to admit it. “No way.” He pointed an accusing finger at his father. “Santa Claus does not get sick on Christmas. There’s gotta be magic or a—a rule or something.”

“There is a rule,” Penny said stiffly behind him, and Luka jumped a little, moving inadvertently further into the room. Penny stepped after him, shutting the door behind her. “The rule is you , Santa Junior.” 

Luka rolled his eyes. “Penny…” he whined again, and Penny rolled her eyes. Jagged sneezed again and moaned pathetically. 

“Oh, grow up,” Penny snapped irritably, and Luka actually wasn’t sure which one of them she was talking to. She stalked over to the wardrobe and yanked it open. “I don’t have time for your bullshit today.” She pulled the red coat out and turned towards Luka, holding it out.

“Now?” Luka switched tactics. “I haven’t even had dinner yet?” 

“Then you should have plenty of room for cookies,” Penny replied, unsympathetic. “Now shut up and get dressed. I’ve assigned you an assistant and she’ll be here any minute.”

Worse and worse. “You’re not coming with me?” Luka asked, accepting the inevitable with the coat.

“I’ve been exposed,” she replied, throwing a dark look at Jagged. “Some of us can handle illness without being reduced to invalids.” She looked back at Luka, and suddenly he could see the tiredness in her expression and the tightness around her slightly watery eyes. “Still, I have a monster headache and I’m going straight to bed once your butt is in the sleigh.” 

“Right,” Luka sighed, slipping on the coat. “Sorry, Penny. I know this sucks.” 

She acknowledged it with a nod. “I know you don’t want to do this, but it’s got to get done.”

Luka nodded morosely. It was a responsibility he accepted when he came to live with his dad, although he’d been more interested in the workshop than the top job. He’d spent the whole year building instruments for tonight (and being teased about his slow, methodical way of working), and he wasn’t about to let all that work go to waste just because his dad was a dramatic whiny baby. 

Not to mention an entire world full of kids who would wake up disappointed on Christmas morning if he didn’t step up. 

He swallowed any further whining objections and pulled on the stupid fluffy red pants with nothing more than a long-suffering sigh. 

“You’re so his son,” Penny muttered, and Luka gave her a pouty look that did nothing to disprove her statement. It turned even more mulish as she held out the boots.

“Do I have to?” 

“You know you do. You’ll trip in those things anyway. They don’t have enough heel to keep the pants off the ground.”

Luka kicked off his shoes without further complaint and put on the stupid boring black boots. He even tied the laces when Penny continued to glare at him. The boots adjusted to fit his feet. At least the vaunted North Pole magic was good for something. The suit shrank a little as well to fit him. Luka took the hat from Penny and stuffed it in his pocket. He’d have to wear it, or the glamor wouldn’t kick on, the one that made him look like viewer expected - chubby and white-bearded, the usual thing. 

“I really don’t know what I’m doing,” he warned Penny. “I mean, I can drive the sleigh and stuff but—” She was already waving him off.

“All you have to do is drive and drop the presents. I went over the route and double-checked the lists with Marinette this morning; she’s very organized. Although,” she added, looking up at the clock above the ostentatious mantlepiece, “punctuality has never been her strong point. Make sure you stay on schedule.” 

“Yeah, okay—wait, Marinette?” Luka looked up sharply, fixing his eyes on Penny and feeling his stomach flip. “The one that works in the fashion design department?” The one that he seemed to bump into far too often coming into and out of this office, often literally. Jagged gushed about her every time, delighted to have secured such a talented and creative person for his workshop. If there was one thing you could say about Jagged—well, it was that he really enjoyed being revered and loved by all the children of the world, which translated to wanting the best to come out of his workshop so that those children kept adoring him. 

He sighed to himself. Even a substitute Santa probably shouldn’t be such a cynic. And Marinette—

If there was another thing you could say about Jagged, it was that he was not at all subtle, and Luka was mortally convinced that his frequent brushes with Marinette in this office were intentional. He should have been doing everything in his power to dodge her, but…

Just then, she barreled in through the door, and his mouth went dry and his breathing quickened. She was flushed from the run up the stairs, eyes bright and eager, and she tripped over her words as she apologized profusely to Penny. She had a tablet tucked under her arm and she was wearing the traditional elf uniform, green with striped stockings and a silly belled hat perched between her pigtails. 

She was stupid cute and he felt like his brain was leaking out of his ears even before she turned to smile at him, clearly nervous but also excited. He couldn’t help but smile back.

Before they could say anything, though, Jagged groaned loudly, and Luka just caught Marinette’s arm before she rushed to the poor invalid’s side. “Don’t get too close,” he warned darkly, and winced when she turned wide eyes on him. “I don’t want you getting sick too,” he added quickly, dropping her arm. He felt like an idiot but the look she turned on him was grateful.

“You’re so right, I wouldn’t want to spread anything to the children.” She returned a sympathetic smile to the pitiful look Jagged gave her. “You stay home and rest. Don’t worry about a thing. Luka and I have got this!” She pumped a fist in the air, and Jagged threw her a goat and a grin that actually seemed genuine, and genuinely tired. Luka felt a tiny stab of sympathy, but it disappeared when Jagged blew Marinette a kiss and hoarsely told her she was the best, adding, “Keep the kid out of trouble!”

“Right!” Marinette grinned. Then she turned to Luka and his stomach did that weird flip thing again as her eyes darted over him. “Shall we go?” she said, checking her tablet. “I’ve got our schedule and route all worked out and when I stopped by the stable, they were just finishing up loading. Do you have your hat?” 

Luka pulled it from his pocket and waved it, and her smile brightened, making his knees weak. “Lead the way,” he managed to get out, and when she turned he followed right behind her. 

Penny whispered, “You can thank me later,” while he passed, and he nearly tripped on his own feet. 

Fortunately, his face cooled by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, so he hopefully didn’t look any more like a tomato than the suit already suggested when Marinette turned to him. 

“All right,” she grinned at him, linking her arm through his. “Let’s go save Christmas!”

He let her tug him towards the stable, chuckling a little at her enthusiasm. Well, if he had to do this, there was no point in sulking the whole time, right? It was just one night.

Marinette was a whirlwind, checking the packing, checking the harnessing, giving firm but polite directions when she found anything amiss. Luka wasn’t really sure what to do with himself, so he climbed into the sleigh and waited, until Marinette bounced up into the seat beside him.

“I’ve always wanted to ride this,” she confessed, flashing a grin at him. “This is so amazing. Ready when you are, Santa.”

“Luka,” he corrected automatically, but he was smiling as he picked up the reins. He couldn’t help it. “Hold on,” he said without thinking, and suddenly Marinette was pressed tight against his side, both her arms wound around his right arm. 

“Can you move okay?” she asked, looking up at him. “There’s not much else to hold on to,” she added, blushing, and he realized he was staring at her.

“Oh—yeah, sure, you’re fine,” he said, and flapped the reins with a little more force than was wise.

He had to admit, as the reindeer started off, gliding across the snow faster and faster before lifting sharply into the air—the sleigh was a rush. He couldn’t help laughing for pure joy at the swooping feeling in his stomach and the sudden surge of adrenaline. Marinette squealed a bit as they came off the ground. She sounded more excited than terrified but he risked a glance at her to make sure she was okay, and saw her grin in a flash of the bouncing lamplight.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” she said again, letting go of his arm and sliding over a little bit as they leveled out. 

Luka grinned. “Well, we’ll get to do it a few thousand more times.” 

“Right,” Marinette said, pulling up her tablet, suddenly all business. Well, that was understandable, but it did kill Luka’s good mood a little. Right. It’s not like he was taking her out for a joyride—or a date.

He really wished he could, though. He’d run into Marinette half a dozen times, but always with Jagged in near proximity, which didn’t exactly bring out the best in Luka. She’d caught his eye every time, but he’d never managed to be walking out of Jagged’s office at the same time, and once he was back in the workshop with his tools in his hands, he tended to forget anything except the vision he had in mind. Luka wished now he’d been a bit more proactive. He could have come up with some excuse to visit her department if he’d thought about it. If only Jagged weren’t so damn pushy, then maybe…

Before he could get too far down that train of thought, it was time for the work to begin, and Luka didn’t have much time to think of anything except getting in, leaving presents, and getting out. Marinette was a good assistant, and everything he needed was right to hand when he needed it. They made a good team. Luka made sure to bring some of the best cookies back to the sleigh for her, to show his appreciation. He loved Penny but Marinette was a lot more fun—especially since Penny got horribly motion sick in the sleigh. He didn’t know how she managed the trip every year, but he supposed someone had to keep Jagged in line.

“Oh, these are good,” Marinette said, as they sailed between towns. Luka glanced at her and saw that she had a molasses cookie in her hand. 

“They were,” he agreed. 

“My parents own a bakery,” she said, taking another bite. “These remind me of home.” She giggled. “Who would have thought when I was putting out cookies as a little girl that I’d end up actually working in Santa’s workshop?” 

Luka chuckled. “I bet you were adorable. I can just see you in fuzzy pajamas, arranging the cookies and worrying about whether Santa has food allergies.” 

Marinette barked a surprised laugh. “It’s like you know me,” she said, putting a hand over her mouth as she tried not to choke on her cookie.

Luka grinned. “Maybe not yet, but I feel like I’m getting there.” He winked at her, and she blushed, and he grinned all the way to Budapest. 

Luka had no idea how the Christmas magic worked, only that it messed with time, so that Santa could make it everywhere that welcomed him before daylight. When Marinette announced happily that they were running ahead of schedule, though, he had an idea. 

“Do you think we can squeeze out fifteen minutes or so before we get to Paris?” he asked. “There’s someone I’d like to stop and see.” 

Marinette frowned. “Isn’t that against the rules?”

“Nah,” Luka chuckled. “She already knows all the secrets. I just want to stop and say hello.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, her tone a little strained. “Well, okay…I think we can probably make that happen, if you don’t mind eating your cookies on the go.” 

“I think I can manage.”

Landing reindeer on a boat was a no-go, so Luka left the sleigh nearby, hopefully out of sight. He turned and offered Marinette his hand to help her down.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude—” she began, but Luka snorted. 

“You won’t be, trust me. You ought to get out and stretch your legs, anyway.” 

She let him take her hand and pull her down from the sleigh, though she still looked a little unsure. He kept her hand as he pulled her gently along behind him towards the boat at the dock. The garish paint job was masked by thick swags of twinkling multicolored lights that seemed to dance when they reflected on the water. 

When they were standing on the deck, Luka let out a loud “HO HO HO,” in a credible imitation of Jagged’s voice.

There was a thundering sound from inside the boat, and an older woman popped out of the door, scowling. 

“What did I tell ya about showin’ up on my boat you old—” Luka pulled off his hat, and she stopped her tirade, blinking, as Luka grinned. “Luka, m’boy!” She laughed, and threw herself forward. Luka dropped Marinette’s hand to catch and hug her, enjoying his mother’s bone-crushing embrace. “What are ye doing wearing the suit, lad?” 

Anarka stepped back, looking at him, and Luka shrugged. “Old man’s sick tonight, so I got stuck with the job. It’s good to see you, Ma.”

Her face softened, and she smiled. “Aye, it is that. I know ye probably cannae stay long, but come downstairs for a moment and have something hot to drink. And you too, lass,” she added, leaning a little to look around Luka at Marinette. “Got stuck with babysitting duty, did ye?” 

Marinette giggled, and nodded, while Luka pretended to look wounded. “Ma, this is Marinette,” he said as they followed Anarka down the stairs into the ship’s galley. “Marinette, this is Anarka Couffaine, my mom. Where’s Juleka, Ma?” he added, glancing around. 

“Passed out on the couch about an hour ago,” Anarka told him, jerking a thumb towards a lump topped with long black hair curled up at one end of the couch. “Never manages to stay up on Christmas. Pretty sure it’s that magic shit. Kids who try to stay up and see Santa never manage it.”

“There should be a loophole when you’re related to him,” Luka muttered. “And she’s hardly a kid.” 

Anarka shrugged. “Don’t ask me, I don’t truck with that Christmas magic bullshit.” 

“Maybe because she still believes,” Marinette suggested, and she blushed when Luka turned to look at her. “I mean, she knows Santa exists, so she still believes in him, so the magic still works on her.” She spread her hands, looking a little sheepish. “It’s just a thought.”

“Well, maybe.” Luka went over and kissed his sister’s forehead, tucking a creepy-ass doll he had picked out just for her under her arm. “Tell her I love her, okay?”

“O’course,” Anarka brought him a cup of—

“Coffee!” Marinette squealed, and then immediately put her hand over her mouth, eyes round.

“Aye,” Anarka laughed. “I know ya don’t have it ‘up north.’ Cocoa’s fine but,” she grinned at the blissful look on Marinette’s face at the first sip, “sometimes ye just want a good ol’ cup o’ joe. That much sweet all the time, sometimes ye need a touch o’ bitter.” Anarka winked at Luka, who realized he was staring at Marinette with what was probably a very stupid expression on his face. “Or spicy, eh?”

“It’s lovely,” Marinette sighed, fortunately not noticing the way Luka flushed red.

“Ye have to go, I expect,” Anarka sighed, when they handed the empty cups back. 

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said, glancing worriedly at her tablet. 

“Don’t apologize,” Luka told her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s the job. Ma understands.”

“Aye, that I do,” Anarka said, rolling her eyes. “Get on wi’ ye then. Thanks for stopping to see yer ol’ Ma.”

Luka kissed her cheek, and hugged her. “Bye, Ma. I’ll come by again when I can.”

As they loaded themselves back in the sleigh, Luka said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to ask if you wanted to stop and see your own family.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, waving a hand. “They’re surely asleep by now. Bakery hours, you know. And if they weren’t, we’d never get out before dawn. You don’t know my dad.” 

Luka grinned and clucked to the reindeer. “Tell me about him.”

The night seemed to pass like lightning after that, conversations pausing and picking up between deliveries as if they’d never been interrupted. Marinette told him about her parents and her life before the North Pole. Luka told her about growing up on a houseboat with Anarka and his sister, and then finding out as a teen that his father was THE Fucking Santa Claus. For the first time Luka thought he could actually feel the magic working, and they left their last delivery and turned back north just as the sun was lightening their section of sky. 

“So that’s that,” Luka sighed. 

“Yes,” Marinette agreed, and leaned back with a sigh. “I won’t say I had no idea how much work it would be, because obviously it’s hard, but it’s different to actually experience it.” 

“Would you do it again?” Luka wanted to know, and Marinette laughed.

“In a heartbeat,” she giggled, and then sobered slightly. “Would you?”

It was a bit of a loaded question. Somewhere in the dark of the night he had confessed to her his misgivings about taking on the mantle one day. 

“I think I might,” he said slowly. “The right company makes a big difference.” He smiled at Marinette, and to his delight, she smiled back, in a shy way he hadn’t seen from her before. “We make a pretty good team,” he dared to add, and Marinette nodded.

“And we made so many people happy,” she pointed out, looking back towards the horizon where the sun was rising. “It feels good.”

Luka nodded thoughtfully. “So yeah, maybe I’d do it again.” He shrugged. “I don’t think the old man’s gonna retire anytime soon, so. I’ve got time to think about it.” He grinned. “After I’ve slept for like three days.”

“Agreed.” Marinette covered a yawn. “And I never thought I’d say this, but I don’t think I’m going to want to look at another cookie for at least a month.” 

“I’m with you,” Luka laughed, and then licked his lips a little nervously. “So, after we’ve slept for three days…do you have plans for the New Year?” 

“N-no, not really,” she stammered, reaching up to check her belled hat, which was slightly askew after all this time, but still there. Luka’s heartbeat sped up at her nervousness, which he thought was both adorable and a good sign. 

“Maybe we could go somewhere?” Luka suggested. “Find a good cup of coffee and ring in the new year together?” 

Marinette visibly swallowed, blushing before she met his eyes. “Maybe kiss at midnight?” she suggested, quietly but boldly.

“I’d like that,” Luka managed to get out, just barely. 

“Hmm. That sounds nice. But…I’m not sure I can wait that long.”

Luka’s hands were on her face and his lips on hers in a heartbeat. The reindeer knew the way home, after all—but at the moment, he honestly didn’t care whether they made it or not. Another few laps around the world was sounding pretty good as Marinette’s arms wound around his neck. 

Fiction Master Post

[sophieinwonderland]

So I saw a doc going around accusing me of being a dangerous person. Which, cool! I've been trying to get anti-endos to see me as a threat and I only see this as being helpful to that end.

Just because you tell people to not interact with someone you're accusing of being dangerous doesn't mean they'll actually listen. I view the notoriety as a positive.

That said, I started reading and it feels like it's largely a lot of nothing. Frankly, I'm pretty disappointed.

Before I get into that...

I barely know who you are, and had no idea you were writing this document. And even if I did, how would I know the specific contents of it to try to "soften the blow?"

That makes no sense!

But I actually wanted to cover their first piece of evidence, because wow! There is really, so much nothing there!

Let me try to summarize this incident because this gets a bit hard to follow.

The inciting incident

On December 5th, 2022, (according the doc, I don't have the date memorized) I responded to a post from a blog, referenced above as Halex...

After this, SAS (on the JustAnotherSyscourse blog) responded to my post.

Meanwhile, Halex also told me to stop interacting with their posts.

So rather than respond any further to them in that thread, since I still wanted to continue the argument with SAS, I screenshotted SAS's reblog of my own post, and then just made a public response to that and that alone. A response that has no link to Halex, didn't show their name, and would not appear in their notifications.

It is not, in any way, shape or form, interacting the them.

At this point, Halex blew up at me and told me to "get out of their reblogs" as if they somehow own the reblogs of their posts.

Now, if you're smart and know anything about how Tumblr works, you would probably realize that getting that screenshot did not require me to go onto Halex's blog. I get the notification in my inbox that SAS replied to me (on the JustAnotherSyscourse blog), I click on that notification. I then screenshot only the parts posted by SAS.

In all of this...

When did I ever interact with Halex's post or blog after they told me not to?

I respect their boundary and didn't interact with them in this case. But telling me not to interact with SAS is a stupid boundary they don't get to make.

The "Block Evasion"

There seem to be three claims of me "block evading."

The first is the ridiculous one above where they seemed to think me screenshotting SAS was somehow interacting with them. I shouldn't need to go into how stupid that is again. (I can't even remember if I was blocked at that point by them. I don't think I was, but it's beside the point because I wasn't interacting with them.)

The second involved screenshotting their syscourse blog ("Oops") months later which had a "Sophie DNI" banner on it.

I saw the posts I screenshotted in the public tags because this systems was, in fact, really bad at blocking.

While I was blocked on the Halex blog, I was not on the the Oops blog. Even quotes in the document admits this:

And as far as I'm aware, there wasn't even anything linking the Oops blog to the Halex blog, so even if I knew that I was blocked on the Halex blog, I wouldn't have connected them at the time. I just saw them as separate blogs ran by completely separate people.

As far as I recall, I haven't interacted with this blog or screenshotted it since they actually blocked me.

The third accusation of block evading was this...

Where I reblogged a post from Cambrian that happened to be replying to their third blog.

Again, Tumblr doesn't allow you to reblog someone who you're blocked by. I couldn't view their blog to reblog from them directly, nor could I reblog a post if they were the OP. Cambrian, a system I follow, made a post. This system argued with them. Cambrian responded. And I reblogged Cambrian's response, in a post Cambrian was the OP of. Which I saw on Cambrian's blog. That I follow.

So to recap, the so-called "block evasion" was...

Screenshotting someone who was not the person who had me blocked. (If I was actually blocked at the time.)

Screenshotting someone's blog posting a banner with my name and avatar on it, which ALSO DIDN'T HAVE ME BLOCKED ON THAT BLOG!

Reblogging a mutual who I follow who happened to be talking to someone who had blocked me.

The last, I'll admit, is at least a bit of a gray area. But "you can't reblog posts from your mutuals if I'm talking to them" still feels like a pretty silly boundary to me.

So this whole part below... it's nonsense.

Yeah, of course I'm not going to respect a Sophie DNI banner.

It's a joke.

I don't care if they're upset or distressed. They could have just learned how to actually block people if it bothers them that much. Putting a target on someone by name with a banner you attach to all your posts isn't a "basic boundary."

Absolutely nothing about this is standard!

In my years on Tumblr, both before and after that incident, I've never seen anyone else make a "[specific person] DNI" banner with their name and avatar.

This isn't commonplace. Absolutely nobody does this.

And it was even more hilarious when I found out that this happened over an incident where they decided me interacting with someone else was breaking their boundaries.

Can we just talk about the hypocrisy for a moment?

So according to them, screenshotting SAS was somehow block evading Halex. Screenshotting OOPS was block evading them despite the fact that THEY DIDN'T EVEN HAVE ME BLOCKED ON THAT BLOG. Reblogging Cambrian was also block evading

All of these things, they'll pretend are block evading.

But again, all these boundaries are being treated as one-way.

The user who compiled this doc, who I won't name, has me blocked. But apparently sees no issue with going through my posts to compile a massive callout document about me.

Maybe their logic is that their own actions don't count because they blocked me instead of the other way around, but something tells me that if I had blocked them, it probably wouldn't stop them from mentioning me and screenshotting my posts.

I'm probably not done with this yet. There are so many terrible arguments and so much misinformation in that doc that I can mock and mine it for content for ages. But this is good for now.

[kynmoonlight]

Bard's Broken Heart

I present: 1 motif of what I’m calling “Bard’s Broken Heart Lace”

OK, not quite, but still a cool design. Inspired by this post from Tumblr user @loki-is-my-kink-awakening https://www.tumblr.com/loki-is-my-kink-awakening/723753602720661504/oh-my-gods-are-these-the-hearts-hidden-on?source=share Who noticed that the trim on Jaskier’s shirt in Season 3 Netflix Witcher is little hearts! And a reply (sorry OP, I can’t find it now) noted that they’re very symbolically, hearts that are divided!

So anyway, I got crafting-obsessed and had to try to figure out how it was made and attempt to recreate it.

Which lead to research on historical lace-making and needlework.

[Disclaimers: this is all my best guesses as an amateur crafter, not a historical expert. I know my stitching is uneven, especially the pin-picots, which I just learned last week]

by the way, crafters or fic writers looking for historical fibercraft reference, check out Project Gutenberg’s (free!) The Encyclopedia of Needlework by Thérèse de Dillmont https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/20776/pg20776-images.html SO much fascinating stuff!

First, based on the clearest photos I can find (ie not very) I’m guessing the actual trim was machine-made, because a) the stitching is really even and smooth and tiny, b) handmade lace would be extremely expensive, and c) TV/Movie costuming needs multiples of every garment, especially for something like a delicate chemise Jaskier wears running all around the continent for a whole season. 

My first guess and attempt was crochet, which wasn’t it, then thought it might be tatting or bobbin lace, which also weren’t right once I looked up images. 

I finally settled on whitework cut-work embroidery with some needle lace techniques for the edging. Which I think gave me a kind of close facsimile. This one is about 1-½ x the size of what he wears (because that’s the limit of my aging hand steadiness, crafting magnifiers, and the materials I had.)

This one motif took me probably two hours, including many screwups and tangles. Not including drafting, blocking and snapshots. With the right materials and one done for practice (as it was only my second project in whitework and first try at needle lace!) one heart would take around an hour. For someone whose lifelong job, all day every day, was embroidering lace trim, they’d probably manage a meter/yard or two of the actual size trim, which I’m guessing is how much is on that shirt.

So in-universe, this still wouldn’t be a cheap piece of clothing, with at least a full day of skilled craftswomen wages for just the lace, plus finely woven, printed fabric that (I think, historically, that would have been block printed by hand), and additional seamster time to make it up. Modern-day equivalent would probably be easily USD $1000 if not 2x that. Our boy is making good money as a now-famous bard! (I suppose in a universe with magic, it could have been magiked, or magically duplicated after an expert created a template, but I suspect that would cost as much as handcrafting anyhow)

If I get bored and the crafting bug hits me again, I might try to make a whole edging this, maybe on a handkerchief. 

Now, what do I do with one lace heart? I settled on starching it and attaching a safety pin back, so I guess if I ever go to a convention I can wear it as a pin so fellow Witchercrafters and Jaskier fans know how much of a nerd I really am.

I could write up direx with step by step pictures if anyone else really wants to try it.

[aggravateddurian]

Swooped by a Bird, Part 3

This is part of a series explaining how So Mi returns to NC.

Part 2 here

"Hey, V. It's good to see you again," said Song So Mi, or at least, the spectral projection of the netrunner, visible through some kind of backdoor in Vega's neural net.

"So Mi... long time no see... considering the last time we spoke, you sent me a snowglobe from the Moon, then blocked me. We pretending that you didn't cut the comms lines?"

So Mi nodded, her eyes turning away, "Necessary precaution. Myers has half of the netrunners in Langley looking for me. Even the protocol I'm using to talk to you now isn't entirely secure."

"I couldn't risk them tracking me..." she then turned back to Vega, "tracking you."

"Uh-huh. Fair, I guess," Vega nodded, "there's also the whole lying to me thing. How'm I to be sure you aren't out to screw me?"

"Yeah... there's that as well..."

"I've... made a lot of mistakes, V. I fucked over a lot of people... lost a lot of friends in the process. Likely wouldn't have ended up the way it was if I was a little less... gonk," she slouched over, "I thought about you... 'specially you. Been thinking about you... how I used you... I shouldn't have, V."

"Look, So Mi, I..."

"Hang on a sec," she stopped her, "not a day went by where I felt guilty about stealing it for myself, not at least investigating a way to use it for both of us. I found out... a year later that I was wrong about the cure. We could've used it... both of us... but I was too selfish."

"It doesn't matter now," Vega told her, "We found our own cures. Yours... a lot easier than mine. Had to die again to find mine. New body courtesy of Arasaka... klepped, o' course, got a reputation to keep up."

She faintly smiled, "I looked for your sig in the NET, V. Your biochip gave off a unique signal that I could identify in a heartbeat... I started to lose hope after it disappeared, 'bout the end of May '77. Then, I pinged it one day, and suddenly there you were... in Pacifica of all places."

V began to grin. It was a very Johnny grin, the kind that grew on one's face then their ego had been suitably stroked, "So I have a unique signature? Good to know, raises my ego immensely."

So Mi tilted her head, "You're a unique woman."

"Try my hardest."

"Anyway... I'm... relieved, that you're still alive, V... I don't have a lot of friends left."

"What's your plan, So Mi? Why contact me now?"

She blinked, deliberately, "I'm coming back to Earth, V. To NC, precisely. The moon's great, but I'm sick of hiding. Looking to not waste this new life I have."

"Okay... but why NC? Myers has goons all over the place. City's lousy with FIA agents and operatives."

"And Myers wouldn't dare risk the resource commitment needed to eliminate me... especially with you beside me. Arasaka would not look at that mildly - especially with Yorinobu Arasaka at the helm. He's just itching for an excuse to send a suicide drone through the White House window."

"Ironic - Arasaka's one of the greatest threats to our world, but they're our saviour from Rosalind Myers."

"Exactly," So Mi replied, "At least in NC, it's real air, real earth... there's an opportunity for a life, not just survival."

"So Mi! No spaceplane crashes, no shady deals with warlords? No double cross? Are you losing your edge?"

"As much as I'd love to have a calling card, it's probably better not to attract Myers' attention."

"Damn!" exclaimed Vega, "I thought you were dragging me into a cloak and dagger black ops thing. You may have gotten me to drag out that Black Ops bodysuit... you're missing out."

So Mi's smile turned subtly devious, "Damn... maybe I will need to crash a spaceship, just to see you in it."

The reply shocked her. She reached for her neck, "Um... a-are you flirting with me, right now?"

So Mi maintained eye contact with Vega for a few moments, her grin firmly painted on her face, "I'll call you when I'm back in NC. Later, V - be seeing you soon..."

"Was... was she hittin' on me? Or just being flirty? Like Panam was? Fuck..."

That was when Johnny decided to make his grand return. He stood, side-eyeing Vega, stroking his beard, "If it looks like a bird, and chirps like a bird... she was definitely thinking about doing one of two things to you..."

"Johnny..." Vega grumbled, "nice of you to show up."

"Bitch fuckin' put me on pause!" Johnny replied, "It hurt, too. Girl needs to be a bit gentler with the hardware she plays in... anyway, she either wants something from you, or she wants you. She could be tugging your heart strings to get what she wants from you, then leave you used and abused on the roadside, like an empty Slaught-O-Matic."

Vega shook her head, huffing, "And I don't need to guess which one you think she's after."

"Honestly, she could be after both, Vega. She's a fuckin' spook. She's trained in fuckin' emotional manipulation, gaslighting and professional lying. Couldn't trust her as far as I could throw 'er... but also, two years have passed. Things done changed for others, V, maybe she changed as well... maybe you fixed her."

"So... you think there's maybe a chance she's not just having me on? She wants to start a new life in NC, truly? And I'm part of that vision?"

"Fuck, V," exclaimed Johnny, "I'm just an engram living rent-free in your mind, leaving chip crumbs on your couch and airing my used shirts on your TV - the fuck do I know?"

Johnny sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Or... maybe... might be that you have a certain aura that attracts a certain type, Vega."

Vega rolled her eyes, "Enlighten me, oh master of human relationships."

"Judy Alvarez, River Ward, Song So Mi. What do they have in common, V? What keeps happening between you and them that draws them to what's inside your sweatpants?"

"Dunno, Johnny. Maybe I'm just a nice girl, and they're attracted to my sensitive soul... and definitely nothing to do with my body."

"Wrong," Johnny retorted, his expression obvious to what he thought of Vega's suggestion, "You enter their life, help them out of fucked up experiences. You're always there for them... they fall for you, straight into your crotch... or, maybe...?"

Vega let out a deep sigh, "This should be good..."

Johnny grinned, "You've finally developed my famous charismatic impact, and the guys and girlies just can't rizz-ist you. Just remember, V: with great power, comes great rizz-ponsibility."

Vega stared blankly at him... more correctly, through him. She closed her eyes and huffed at Johnny's early 21st century slang, and a pun that was likely already old when the towers fell, "Fucking Christ, Johnny. Can't believe I preferred our argument to this conversation..."

[ineffable-hyperfixation]

If you people don't start reblogging art (and writing!!!) I'm gonna start biting you

Look at this shit

These are the top 4 today, LESS THAN HALF of the people who liked it have reblogged. That first one especially makes me want to chew glass

Oh! But those are in the top today! So surely everyone will see them!? No?? A lot of people don't go into the tags! And also think how many more people would see them! You can only like something once! Even if every one of those only had 1 follower that's still roughly 300 more eyes on the work!!

But those are new, you say. Surely the older stuff isn't like this? Incorrect! Let's sort by top of the last year

TRAVESTY *bops you all with a newspaper* that last one is one of my all time favorites (I'm going to list them in a reblog, because I know sometimes too many links kills a post) it's an amazing piece of art and look how little love it has

It has FOUR TIMES more likes than reblogs???? Think how many people could've seen this artist's amazing work!

Excuses I see:

It won't fit my blog: a) you can make multiple blogs! This is my side blog, I made it in October, tagged things appropriately (used the good omens tag for a bit, I've dropped it now since), and have gained a nice handful of followers! That wasn't the point but I'm glad you're all here (hai!)

b) it's your blog! Use it how you want to!! "Oh people will unfollow me!" this isn't the I have followers klout website. This is the have fun and hope you can make someone else's day fun in the process website. If it sparks joy, reblog it!

I don't wanna upset op with spam: that does not happen here. Artists, writers, and bloggers love seeing you. Go nuts

Reblogging is time consuming: you can quick reblog (on mobile hold down on the reblog button and swipe up to the blog you want, sorry idk how on computer but I know you can) reblogging is only time consuming if you want to comment or tag. If you're willing to leave a reply you should have time to reblog! (Commenting and replying both have their place, it's ok to reply only while still reblogging!!)

Tagging things intimidates me: people carry on entire conversations in the tags, people leave the wildest shit as tags, people have confusing tags to organize their blogs, people leave absolutely no tags at all! You do not have to tag things!!

I have my likes turned on so people can see: you look like a bot, stop that. Empty blogs get blocked! I'm begging some of you to please reblog something. No one goes straight to people's blogs to look exclusively at their stuff (....ok well some people do but most people just scroll their dash)

Likes are bookmarks! That's it! Or a way to interact with some random thing someone said about their day that you can tell they don't necessarily need reblogged. This isn't twitter, where (apparently?) reblogging something is kinda frowned upon. This isn't instagram where likes mean everything. This is Tumblr, and it survives on reblogs!

[disabirbity]

Okay, on the people arguing on this post. Users who are arguing have blocked us so we're going to leave them be, but we're going to make this clear for anyone else following us.

More under the readmore, it's just an explanation of what we did + our intentions--if you're not interested in discourse then don't look. This will be our first and last post on it.

This was not an advice post. It is not advice at all. Having someone come onto our post and say "be careful with this advice" was absolutely out of nowhere because we were explicit in talking about OUR experiences--and we really don't like anyone coming onto posts about how we work and function being refuted with "not for everyone though!". That's like us saying we're dysphoric about our hair and having people come onto the post to say "not everyone is!!" when we didn't imply that.

We never said "everyone needs to do this" in the op. We never said our way is the only way. We never said "this is the solution for everyone". We shared our experience. The response that "this isn't good advice for everyone" doesn't even apply because it's not even advice. We're sharing our experiences.

Yes, we assumed the responder didn't have psychotic symptoms because they had nothing about it on their blog and seemed to fundamentally misunderstand the fact that we were sharing our experience, and explicitly talked over us saying "not for everyone though! this can be bad advice"--which doesn't even apply to what the post was, as an explanation of our personal experiences. People without our disorders come onto our posts all the time and say what they as abled people think is right, or how we're being too dangerous or scary--something familiar to a lot of people with psychotic disorders. Which this did read as. Assuming was wrong, we will admit that, and we're sorry we assumed based on that.

Just... That aside, the responder didn't make it clear that this was a "this doesn't work for me", all they said, was this.

That lead to us writing the tags we wrote and while we were wrong to assume the responder didn't have psychosis, I have to make the point that we never claimed our post was anything other than personal experiences, and we had received no indication that the responders comment was meant to be experience-based either.

What was said in the tags was based on our assumption, yes, which sucks of us. I'm not denying we made a mistake with that if the responder has psychosis--but the point is, the post we made seemed to be fundamentally misunderstood so we reacted the way we did.

I felt the need to explain this properly because people are just arguing now and going on about how we're horrible for "shouting down a 14 year old psychotic person and infantalising them"--when we didn't even do anything like that, we made a few comments in the tags that boiled down to "let psychotic people have their conversations"--once again, based on a bad assumption, but we did not harrass. If the original comments intention was to share personal experience, that wasn't clear in the slightest and being 14 doesn't protect you from being corrected or questioned.

Our only intention with the OP was to share our experiences as a psychotic person, that's it. We cannot read between the lines in the slightest due to autism and in the reply it was not clear what the intent was at all, because it didn't say it.

I'm going to not post about this now, but I'm pretty annoyed at being accused of harrassing kids when we did literally no such thing, so I figured making a quick post would be important.

[yooniesim]

Hey nonny, thank you for telling me this! And thank you for considering my well being 💜 I blocked the names out of your ask because... I'm going to be honest, I've never heard of either of these people, I have no idea who they are. I tried checking, but nothing comes up, so I assume the one that didn't deactivate has me blocked out of fear. This isn't unexpected- I've dealt with plenty of irrelevant blogs like this before. They would probably like a mention, but can't handle direct confrontation in DMs. They can only manage anons that agree with them, blow smoke up their asses, and make them feel good about themselves for what they're doing. It's much easier to delete anons that disagree with you so no one else sees them and only post the ones that do, creating whatever narrative you like. Don't worry- I'm well-versed in the tactics of a full-time terminally online hater lmfao. But that being said, off the top of my head, I'm drawing a blank for who they could be or what, if any, content they create. So if anyone is trying to start drama for clout... well, we know who it is, don't we?

(This reply got pretty long/rambly and isn't all relevant, so I'm going to throw the rest under a cut- sorry nonny!)

...I think it's very strange, that even when I've been mostly on hiatus for quite a long time, and haven't done shit, I'm still such a strong presence in so many minds. I don't quite get the obsession, though I imagine it's jealously and frustration that I somehow keep existing when they'd prefer I didn't. Which- I'd kind of understand if it was someone I had history with, but I really have no idea who these particular losers are, so I can only conclude that it's just a need for attention...? I don't know.

Look, I'll say right now, it's fine if someone thinks I'm not friendly. It's alright if they make posts, and answer a bunch of anons about me. People can spend their limited free time however they want, and if they choose to spend it on me for... some unknown reason... that's their right, even if it is odd in my opinion. I don't read these posts. I've been here long enough and pissed off enough people that there are quite a few bigots and generally not well-adjusted people obsessed with me that go to ask boxes to spew untrue nonsense, that morons like the OPs you mentioned gladly eat up, and there's nothing I can do about that. As much as simblr loves to pretend otherwise... it loves drama and toxicity, it loves hating on acceptable targets when they get the chance, and they really love a good circlejerk. It thrives on finding the next conflict, especially if it gives them the chance to feel superior to someone else. That won't change, and as long as it's like that, people like the OPs and posts like the ones they made will continue to exist.

And as much as it sounds that way, I'm not coming at this from purely a lecturing standpoint. I know this so well because, yes- as I've mentioned many times- I've been in the same position of that toxic feedback loop. Drama on the internet can be a rush, it can be fun, it can be exciting. Even if you start with good intentions and consider yourself to just be speaking the "truth", it's easy to fall into a narrative that is much more toxic than you realize. That's something I had to recognize in myself, take a step back, and think about the fact that it isn't about the truth, it's about word choice and choosing your battles. Every little issue and every little thing you dislike about someone else doesn't need to be spoken aloud, doesn't need their own post. But that's what I was doing, to the detriment of myself and those around me. That, yes, was very "unfriendly" and abrasive.

Though I also think that people here don't quite understand the... social pressure that gets put on people that speak out or share their opinions here. I started out just wanting to talk about one issue- paywalls, largely- but once I started, I quickly started to get requests for my opinions on other topics. (A lot like I still do now, but I delete or ignore 90% of them) And since I was very blunt/free with my opinions, people started to seek me out more and more. I got a lot of attention very quickly from people that had much larger followings, and much more of both fans and haters, than I did. They started vague posting me or mentioning me outright, which sent waves of asks my way, and much more attention very fast. From the very jump, I was getting ostracized/demonized by one group of people while getting low-key idolized for being honest by another. I'll admit, it was nice in some ways, but very stressful in others. Suddenly, instead of just sharing my opinion online to a void, it became that people started treating me as some voice of reason, or that I had an obligation to speak for them. I got more and more asks about various topics, from paywalls to bigotry to minor "injustices" from simblr #4632. I started wanting to back off as it got bigger, but there was always something happening, always something someone wanted me to talk about or "bring awareness" to, always someone poking & prodding me whether it was with good intentions or bad ones. It was overwhelming. I felt like I couldn't focus on, well, the sims, because how jarring was it to be in a serious conversation about racism and then posting random gameplay? And the lines between what was an important issue and what was just petty drama started to blur more and more. What was necessary for me to say, and what was just plain mean? It became more and more difficult for me to distinguish in this public persona I had created.

I started spending more time on discord in hopes of backing off some, but that only made it worse- I was inexperienced with having my own server, incompetent really, and the same problems I had here were magnified ten times there. Anything I said or did was under a lense by both the people that agreed with me and those that didn't, the negative and "truthful" environment I advertised only invited more toxic and drama-seeking people to me, and while I did my best to hide behind my blunt/straightforward exterior, it got scary very fast. There was a lot of pressure to do everything "right" at all times, to always be there as a mouthpiece for others and for the "truth", but no one can be correct all the time. And the pressure, along with the weight of what was happening to me offline, was suffocating. It was as if people were always watching me, waiting for me to slip up or be vulnerable so they could get to me, and I couldn't keep that from happening forever. Because quite a few people didn't like me for being annoying or negative or speaking my mind, when I started getting targeted by bigots more extremely, it was celebrated by quite a few big people here, even those that claim to be advocates and allies. They reveled in the chance to get at me in some way, even if they had to rub shoulders with blatant racists and transphobes to do so, and if there was anything that woke me up to the true nature of drama and "activism" here, it was that. The truth was, drama wasn't an unfortunate consequence of speaking your mind about important issues- it was the goal. Everything I had ever done or said was just a spectacle, entertainment. I had deluded myself into thinking I was doing something important, when I was actually just being laughed at and used. There's nothing being done here that's truly important. It's fuel for egos, and something to engage in when you're bored. That's it. But I was the dumbass sitting there at the center of it all, the face that could take it all while everyone else disappeared once they were bored.

But by the time I realized this, well. I was already in quite deep, wasn't I? I guess the question is, how do you extract yourself from a bad situation, and a bad reputation for that matter, when your personality and intentions have already been decided and declared by others? It's been several years now, quite a while since I recognized where I was going wrong and set on the journey to cut that shit out of my life, but it still persists and I don't expect it to go away anytime soon. Truth is, there's quite a few people that really, really dislike me, even people I've never interacted with, and there's absolutely nothing I can do to change their minds. There's people that I haven't mentioned or thought about in years that still mention me regularly, publicly and privately. I've apologized many times, decided to move on and never mention them again, and stuck with that- despite never receiving apologies or the same grace myself. And at the end of the day, that's all I can really do. Change my behavior and try to ignore the people that can't do the same for themselves.

I do find it funny you say that the post is about me trying to create drama for clout, though- because let's be honest, that ship has sailed lol. I've gotten more "clout" for drama than anyone else on simblr ever has, I definitely don't need to say anything to get more. I've been blocked and/or mentioned by almost every simblr, especially paywallers and every "popular" blog that's been forming parasocial relationships here since they were 12, on every platform, from tumblr to twt to discord to anon sites. I can't keep my name out of people's mouths even when I do my best to mind my damn business. When you're that infamous, you really don't have to try, do you? 😂 and since I've never heard of these OPs, I can only assume they're hoping to get a little advertisement from me, which I'm not about to give them lol. at this point, I'm trying to do a reverse on the clout. Let's bring it down a little, how about that 😭

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Idk who needs to hear this but uh... Criminals and organized crime aren't special back-woods exceptions of people out there who magically do not go online or have internet. I don't mean this in a "be wary" kind of way either. I intend it as general cultural and situational awareness.

Everyone currently getting away with massive fraud, running and making drugs, actual human trafficking, actual grave robbing and various high profile thefts, crimes against children, profiteering etc... are ALSO just some guy on the internet who's probably scrolling social media and seeing largely the same posts as you.

Same with many celebrities and rich people, btw...

I am starting to get the impression that the average internet user assumes these people exist in a fully separate world, so if I or anyone refers to these groups of people in a post in language that directly addresses them, it is assumed we are simply likening another group to them to be dramatic and make a strawman of them, instead of taking what we are saying the way it is meant, literally and at face value.

For example, if I go on a post by an Egyptologist, and agree with them about Egyptian curses, and then -for example- go on to say that anyone removing things from tombs disrespectfully or in a way that isn't meant to conserve culture [names and identities etc], ie; actual grave robbers, are the ones who have to worry about curses and should "put it back"... I do not know why the base assumption being made is that I am calling Egyptologists grave robbers, instead of say, addressing people actually taking artifacts from sites without proper clearance and cooperation from the relevant government and cultures. You know, actual grave robbers, who actually exist, are committing an actual crime, and do in fact use the internet and see posts because I don't think most criminals operating in international markets can afford to not be internet literate. You utter fucking tumbleweeds [and to such a degree I had to block about 100 people to get the anon bullshit out of my inbox].

The only reason I can come up with for this kind of misunderstanding happening on various topics, is to think the base assumption being made is that the groups I am actually referring to or turning to address directly for a moment, are being assumed to not actually exist or be present in order to be addressed... And that the person getting sensitive is also insecure about being lumped in with that group for some reason [possibly legitimate or not depending on the circumstances], to the point that their reading comprehension starts to fail.

I think it would help reading comprehension and social media literacy in general if more people were to understand that a certain percentage of a post or reply is phrased in a way that is also meant to be seen by the general public, and EVERYONE that public contains, including fringe individuals.

Similarly, even when you are replying to a friend over a topic, you are ALSO generally phrasing it as something that will be seen by a general audience, and specifically by other people who generally hold similar political views as them. Otherwise you'd just be DMing each other.

So taking every side note and incidental phrasing as if it is intended as a deeply personal accusation, attack or criticism, instead of something said to be really clear to a wider audience with a lot of potential viewpoints and sticking points... Is a little fucking weird.

When I am replying to someone in public, I am replying to them, but also generally for the benefit of the audience, unless it's very personal joking around, casual back and forth or said in notes and sometimes tags [before they became the accepted way to comment at all].

If I get into explaining weird caveats, it isn't because I assume THEY or OP needs me to, it is because SOMEONE in the audience, including said fringe or exceptional individuals, might benefit from the added information, or might be someone I am just taking the opening to address because a subject came up in a public place.

Every time I get into an argument online, it really seems like the other person is mad because they are taking absolutely everything I am saying as if it is personally directed at only them for only their benefit and just *happens* to be taking place in front of strangers.

And it is deeply weird to me that they view the interaction that way to begin with, when to me -dare I say to most- that is antithetical to sites like tumblr being a public forum instead of a network of DMs.

So I just wanted to check in, and make sure, that everyone actually realizes that EVERYONE in the general public, some representation of pretty much every group you can imagine, has access to the internet and uses it regularly as some random user. The internet is truly the MOST public and varied space you can imagine. You need to understand that a lot of people make and reply to posts as if their audience is potentially that general, because they ARE generally aware of this.

There are organ traffickers on your posts right now, there are government officials, there are people who have illegally bought or sold ivory or human bones, there are doctors, republicans, lawyers, people who just woke up and are on their 20th day of consecutive brain fog, mycology enthusiasts, sex workers, steel workers, school teachers and their worst nightmares, there might even be a cop or two, there are murders, house wives, and violent rapists, there are literal children and people ranging up to the human limits of age. There are geologists, people you went to school with and people from every other country in the world. There are people who buy and sell human fingernails. You probably shouldn't continue being this online if you cannot internalize that.

The internet can feel like a series of closed safe corners, but the thing is that the doors are perpetually open to everyone you can imagine. We are all of us tossed in together and arguing over pokemon types and whether or not some groups of humans are okay to dehumanize. When you address the room, you are addressing all of them. When you are addressing op or another user, you are also doing it at all of them. All of these people each get that post up on their dash and read it as intimately and often as personally as you do as if it was served up to them, because it was, it came up on their dash just like it came up on yours.

Hope that helps <3

[halfmoth-halfman]

Just wanted to say I 100% agreed with your comments in the tags about the 'weird American obsession with race thing'. I was also really disappointed in that arist and have now blocked them. As a white passing, mixed race European, it pissed me off.

Every single woman drawn for Cod is aged at max 25, is thin and willowy with long blonde hair that is perfectly blow dried.

I'm short and stocky. I'm not hyper feminine, I have curly hair and I'm older than 25. It would be nice to feel included just once. Writers go to the effort of trying to include everyone in their fics when they make OCs. To the point where they can't even use names for characters. But artists get a free pass? Nah......

Sorry you don't need to reply to this. I just wanted to vent cos it upset me too.

don't even worry about it, anon, it pissed me off too. one of the easiest blocks i've ever had.

and i feel you, especially on the curly hair and not being super feminine front. most fandoms have such a lack of diversity (not just with skin color), and people shouldn't be made to feel bad about wanting to see themselves represented more.💜

small rant:

the thing that gets me about it, is like op made some good points about creating things for free and the entitlement people feel toward content.

but then all that just went out the window when they started complaining about diversity and that "they miss those times when we didn't have to think about such things". the way they said bringing up a lack of diversity is disrespectful and that if the anon wanted, they could change the skin color in the render and then, in the same breath, said the anon would be racist for doing so??? if it's so easy to change the skin color, why can't op do it??? you know why

also, op saying they're "a typical slav" who doesn't fall into weird tiktok drama over someone rightfully bringing up a lack of diversity in their work, doesn't make them look better, it just makes them look ignorant.

like does op realize using their country or where they live as an excuse to be racist just makes them and their country look racist? saying diversity is just a tiktok trend and calling people who want to see more representation for themselves crazy and brainwashed is racist. missing times when they didn't have to think about diversity is weird and racist.

it's 2023 y'all, the internet has endless resources for you to look through and find. if you can't create, draw, write, render outside of a single body type, hair type, skin color, etc. then that's on you and maybe, you just aren't that good of a creator!

[megashadowdragon]

Daily Chaldea 1665: Didn't See That Coming

youtube comments

[Event Spoilers in this comment]

Oryou's history is very suspiciously close to that of the tale of Hiruko, the first child of Japanese creator deities Izanagi and Izanami. Described in some stories as born without arms or legs (hmmm, snakes), Hiruko was cast out of the heavens. In Proper Human History, they eventually became a deity known as Ebisu, one of the Seven Gods of Fortune. GUDAGUDA timelines are explicitly different, however, and oh look, how incredibly interesting that a deity in what's probably the Japanese Netherworld - that would be Izanami, its ruler - claimed to be the one who branded Oryou a monster and gave her a way to return to the heavens. The entity then claims to be Oryou's mother, which pretty much solidifies Oryou's identity as Hiruko.

There's enough information here that I've decided to run with it for Daily Chaldea. This does, incidentally, make Oryou the older full sister of Amaterasu (Tamamo) and half-sister of Erice.

Does the entity refer to itself with any gender? I thought it was ambiguous whether it was Izanagi or Izanami and personally it made more sense to me that it would be Izanagi, who would still be in the heavens.

I always thought it was ambiguous whether Oryou was Hiruko or Wadatsumi. Wadatsumi was born of Izanagi's cleansing, which could also be his death since after it Amaterasu takes over as ruler, plus Wadatsumi is connected to the sea as far as I know.

The text says "replace us at death" or something along those lines so I imagined it might be someone born of Izanagi's cleansing, who was meant to replace him as Amaterasu did as ruler.

Of course with Tamamo(Amaterasu) referring to Izanami as her mother, makes it seem that either the version where she straight up is her mother is true, the cleansing is akin to a male pregnancy caused by Izanami's Yomi essence entering Izanagi, or it is simply her referring to her father's former wife as mother.

As an aside, I was curious whether they were going to make Oryou the sea god who blocked Theyber's path(Samurai Remnant), just to make a connection there. I thought that would make a neat parallel & a sign of Oryou's character development, but I forget if things line up in lore or actual myth for that to be possible. I don't know enough about Wadatsumi & Oryou's complete lore to be sure.

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User avatar level 3 Rednal291 OP · 9 hr. ago Smart money's on Izanami, as that's who you would expect to see in an underworld area. Also, Izanami had a bit of her own stuff going on with disfigurement, and would likely be much more empathetic to what happened to Hiruko as a result.

User avatar level 4 PeterDSaints · 8 hr. ago Underworld? Aren't they at the top of a mountain after being impaled from the heavens & then at the bottom of the sea after Ryouma died? Neither falls under underworld domain.

I do agree with the latter part, but again would Izanami still have the authority to return something to Heaven, now that she is a part of Yomi?

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User avatar level 5 Misticsan · 8 hr. ago To add to it, it is strongly implied that the one talking is the one who threw the spear, even saying it was "cast down":

It was cast down to welcome that monster back to the heavens as a new god. It is a symbol of my regret for branding her a monster all those years ago.

This strongly indicates that the one speaking would be Izanagi, the one in Heaven.

Even the underworld connection (which, as you say, is dubious) would work: Izanagi went and came back, whereas Izanami couldn't escape. Ryouma takes the role of Izanagi in the tale, so it only makes sense that Izanagi was the one guiding him.

User avatar level 2 Misticsan · 8 hr. ago The entity then claims to be Oryou's mother

Oryou's parent, I'd say. As I mentioned in another comment, it's implied that the god talking to Ryouma is the one who threw the spear from Heaven.

Given that Izanami's tale is about her being trapped in the underworld whereas Izanagi returned to heaven, it's more likely that Izanagi was the one talking to Ryouma. His regret about Hiruko probably echoing his regret about Izanami.

Not that it changes the joke. Erice and Oryou would still share the same mother, just not the same father.

User avatar level 3 Rednal291 OP · 8 hr. ago I'm going with Izanami for the purpose of Daily Chaldea lore, but agree that there are other possible interpretations of the scene. XD And it really doesn't change much regardless of which one you use, so yeah.

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User avatar level 4 Alisa180 · 3 hr. ago To add on to what others have said, there are strong marriage undertones in the scene. (I mean, Oryou comes out wearing a white dress). So going under the assumption that it was Izanagi, when he says 'Take care of my daughter,' its basically the bride's father giving his blessing.

Not arguing with your lore direction, just pointing out. Keep up the excellent work!

User avatar level 2 TheLuckyFateReviewer · 6 hr. ago · edited 6 hr. ago Wait so…that would Oryou never became a Divine Spirit as she was never killed by Sefar 14,000 years ago. She was already trapped under the mountain with the spear.

Ryouma is quite possibly the most luckiest man to have ever live. Man not only got the first child of the Japanese pantheon as a wife, said wife was also one of the few gods who still had their physical bodies and wasn't killed when Sefar attacked 14,000 years ago.

Also funny how around the time this GudaGuda event is coming out JP gets an event revolving around another divine being that still had their physical form due to them being sealed away under a mountain by the gods. Coincidence? Probably.

With all that said, funny how this is the second time a 'modern era' Japanese male ends up hooking up with one of Izanami and Izanagi's children, first being Hakuno with Tamamo (Specifically Foxtail Hakuno as their hook up there is probably the best one out of all the iterations in the Extra/Extella multi-verse, guy quite literally takes a bit of her killing stone curse as a sign of his devotion to Tamamo. What a champ).

Oh, and am I the only one who finds it weird that, so far, the children of Izanami and Izanagi that we've met have both been destroyers of nation? Oryou is a snake said in the event to be a devourer of nations while Tamamo, or more specifically Amaterasu, is a 9 tail fox that destroys dynasties.

[uninspiringdyke]

this is my response to @femmeliarity​ ‘s post and @bloodstarvedbutch​ ‘s response, since klarissa me blocked ig. the post can be found here

1) calling this SA, even online, is an absolutely wild thing to me given NONE of what is described meets any definition of sexual assault. i’m assuming OP meant sexual harassment, but i’m not sure it meets any definition of that either

2) the fact this post includes nary a screenshot, or link, or whatever, indicates two things to me:

a) this callout post is based on very little actual evidence

b) i should take it with a grain of salt

and it’s very very weird to me so many people are commenting on this issue/reblogging posts about it without any actual concrete way for the rest of us who were not involved to see what was actually said. this is apparently a discord with several people (i’m guessing? more than 10?) and not a single person has come up with screenshots. not of the supposed messages to other people, not of instances where people were uncomfortable, none of the actual incident/context, none of the mods messaging each other about the decision to remove this person.

that’s...weird right? to everyone else? in a world where many posters are said to engage in leftist activism in a way that, at least in a way where we can acknowledge prisons and cops are bad, why are we using retributive measures?

3) “The allegations against that person sending an NSFW video to the server is completely fabricated.”

then what happened? what exactly did this person do?

4) “I have not spoken to this person or their partner, including through sending anons, but I did message with someone who asked about the situation, and told me they would try to make sense of it with them. “

Who? what did they say?

5) “This person and their partner have both made several posts about their removal from the group, each of which they had included this falsified allegation, or the narrative that we had them removed from another group, which neither are true.”

which posts? what did they say? which parts of the narrative are false?

6) “ I did not want to make a post of my own as neither of them seemed to be willing to listen, take accountability, and take the time to heal”

did you approach them? what did you say? what did they say? why are we assuming instead of just posting screenshots of what was said? i don’t need anyone to have URLs posted, even.

7) “ This person’s partner called my femininity as conforming to “tradwife aesthetics.” “

what’s the context here? tradwife is accurately described in the paragraphs below, but i’m confused about the application of that definition in this instance. jewish women and women of color (and jewish women of color) can also contribute to white supremacy--one is not exempt from aiding an oppressor merely because they are an oppressed class.

8) “I am sure many other femmes of color will agree, but we have to work extra hard for our femininity to be “acceptable” to white people.”

I agree this is true, but I am not sure of the connection between this and what was said earlier.

9) “I would never wish ill upon anyone and I understand this individual is hurt, but I hope they can heal, make peace, and move on.”

what healing do they need to do? how can they move on if restorative practices are not taken? how do they make peace?

10) it also seems, to me, strange to say in one post “we can understand that sometimes it can be hard to determine when someone has established a boundary or been made uncomfortable, so we wanted to be as clear as possible in our rules.” and then platform a reply to your post that says “ making callout posts because you got kicked out of a space where you made people uncomfortable and pushing multiple boundaries to be THE reason sfw rules were reinforced and expanded on.”

[bolding mine for readability]

people are going to be uncomfortable. that is life, especially in an online and explicitly political space.* these are also, i would say, not boundaries. they are rules. and that’s fine! but to say they are boundaries is incorrect and gives a false idea of how boundaries and discord servers work.

*i mean this in that marginalized identities are often political in nature + butch/femme are political identities

11) it is also weird when these are the tags left on the same reblog:

then how do you know what was said? why are you getting screenshots and we aren’t?

TLDR: we need to change the culture around behavior changes on tumblr, but also queer spaces broadly. the more this continues, the more we will see posts like this one, and situations like this one, which can (and will) explode.

[foulfirerebel]

Hm. Since I was blocked by reachartnetwork before I could reply, here's my reply to jothb

@jothb Girl you came to a post showing that Adobe is trying to copyright artstyle, saw that OP was reasonably upset about it, told them they should "just be nice" and then asked for a source? Source for what? The hearing? The extremely viral claims that "oh trust me bro this is gonna work out"? Any of their posts about this that you could have found if you had literally just opened their page? Girl Imma be real you sound like the biggest fucking bootlicking loser. Why should people *have* to be nice about that?

Friend, I didn't know about any of this. I don't use Twitter. I hadn't heard of this person before, or this news. This is genuinely disturbing and distressing, but if I may YOU were the one that decided to quote ME quoting another person and insulting them and me by proxy.

Calling me the bootlicker when I know nothing about this isn't the way to go. I appreciate the source and the information though and will go about my day having learned a little more about the big business and legal side of this whole debacle.

Mayhaps next time just say something like "hey, the OP has been doing research into this and knows what they're talking about" instead of trying to rip the nearest person's arm off?

Just a thought. Some of us are too busy surviving to pay attention to some issues that have no idea they exist or affect us on a large scale unless it's pointed out. This isn't something a lay person would just be able to figure out unless pointed out repeatedly.

Thank you for the source, it's rather illuminating and not something I heard about until now. I was genuinely unaware of all the interconnected corporations trying to use Anti-AI legislation as a smokescreen to control more of the internet.

That doesn't mean I'm not anti-ai art, writing, music, or use of voices without consent. I was just unaware of big corporations trying to exploit the sentiment for their own personal gain. Thanks for letting me know.

And since the OP of that post had me blocked, I can't reblog a rather good and lengthy post about the subject. That's unfortunate.

Here's the link if you wanna read it. Apologies for the rant. I do hope this reaches people, because this is rather important.

[youngpettyqueen]

Hiya! If you're still doing that WIP ask game, could I please request "rumor has it" and "for the man who gives everything"? Thank you! ^_^

P.S. I LOVE your idea for a fic about Hawkeye and the still in PoA omg!!!

yo!! im totally still doing the WIP ask game its so much fun and I love any excuse to ramble about my writing- thanks so much for asking!

"rumour has it"

it's this post. ive been working on this one on and half ever since I made that post, actually. its been slowgoing due to a) and miles to go before i sleep b) writer's block and c) I keep making new WIPs because I have absolutely no self control whatsoever and if I dont write down every idea I have im gonna die

anyways onto writings cause I have quite a bit for this-

"“Mornin’, sir,” Radar greets, all pleasantries, though he’s wearing an additional anxious look over his usual nervous one, “I was wonderin’ if you maybe had a minute?” 

BJ offers him a warm smile. “For you, Radar, I’ve got at least two,” He tells him, “What can I do for you?” 

Radar manages a little smile of his own. “Oh, well, thanks,” He says, “It’s about a patient, actually. I’ve got one who could use your help. Think you got enough minutes for that?” He asks. 

BJ chuckles. Radar’s tone isn’t urgent, so it’s probably not anything serious. Probably one of his animals with another splinter, or a runny nose. “Sure, Radar,” He agrees, “Bring ‘em on in. Is it one of your pets again? I warn you, if I have to surprise-deliver another litter of guinea piglets, I’m gonna have to charge you.” He jokes. 

Radar’s expression goes nervous again. His eyes flick to outside the door- he still hasn’t stepped fully into post-OP, just sort of hovering half-inside. “Uh, not exactly,” He replies, “Y’see, it’s-“

“Not exactly?” BJ would recognize that offended tone anywhere. Sure enough, Hawkeye shoves his way inside not a second later, nearly bowling Radar right over seeing as he’s got his arm around the kid’s shoulders to lean on, “What’s that supposed to mean, not exactly? Just which one of your animals are you comparing me to?” He demands."

this one is all silliness! thats it thats all just a lot of silliness. Hawkeye's hurt (not seriously) and he won't tell anyone what happened, and BJ's determined to get to the bottom of it. the 4077 rumour mill does nothing but make his mission more difficult, as rumours escalate to ridiculous levels. which uh, all becomes really funny when you find out what happened. which is in the post itself

bonus because this bit makes me laugh-

"“Sir- sir, you’re gonna fall-“ Radar is saying, managing the impressive feat of staying upright as he keeps up with Hawkeye hounding in on him.

“Oh, no! No, no, no!” Hawkeye continues, undeterred, hobbling after Radar like he’s chasing him, “You opened this can of worms! Which of your animals are you comparing me to? It better not be-“"

because I love some Hawkeye and Radar clownery <3

"for the man who gives everything"

I do not have anything written down for this one besides plot notes to myself, but I do have the blurb!

"All the ways Klinger shows how much he loves everyone, and what they do to show him how much they love him.

Or, 6 times Klinger did something just to make someone else smile, and 1 time everyone got together to return the favour."

classic 5(ish) + 1, centring on Klinger because I love him. I recently got to Where There's a Will, There's a War in my rewatch and Hawkeye thinking of when Klinger got him the magazine made me wanna cry, and I realized I havent really written anything about Klinger despite how much I love him! so, the idea for this came to mind

this will be a longer oneshot (like rumour has it) where Klinger goes out of his way to do something nice for another main cast member, all from the POV of others, and then it will be how everybody repays him from his POV. because Klinger deserves the world and im gonna give it to him

again, thanks so much for the ask!

[endearmint]

it's funny that they're talking about being able to remove reblog chains when that's already a feature the site has. when a post has one or more reblog comment and you open the post editor to reblog, there is a red X button under the first reblog comment that allows you to remove all comments that would come before yours. the outcome is the same as if you were to reblog straight from the OP

as for condensed reblogs, that made me think of how tweet permalinks are formatted. a thread will be cut off by a button that shows how many additional tweets remain and let you view them. reply chains will be interrupted by a collapsed menu indicated by an ellipses and then show the latest reply at its end.

my guess is we might get something adjacent to that within a post as viewed on the dashboard (and not in the 'blog network' aka [url].tumblr.com permalink). so it could like this approximation i made in 5 minutes

(feel free to replace "there's more conversation to be had!" with whatever unhelpful tumblr-ism like the "whoops computer fart" error messages. still don't get why me having the OP blocked means that a "post is no longer available" if it's sent to me via dm)

i think this would be the best way to implement the concept while respecting both the pre-existing userbase and newcomers. us older users have come to expect and embrace long-form content, and know to tag things with #long post (PT: #long post) so that others can filter the tag if they don't want to view long posts. twitter has the short-form content i detailed earlier, and reddit users are able to collapse comment threads.

i'm certainly going to include this example image in the feedback form i submit via tumblr.com/support

I watched the live with the CEO, here is the tl;dr

The good news:

Chronological dash is here to stay! Whether you have to toggle it weekly or new users default to “For you” was not elaborated on but at least that’s confirmed.

Custom themes are here to stay! Once again, may be buried for all I know but, for sure will remain an option.

Search updates are in the works!!!!

The neutral news:

Tumblr is seriously in the red financially and needs more support, Ad-free for example is not widely used

They would not comment on the suggestion to bring back NSFW behind a paywall (which we all know would get them a boatload of money)

They’re possibly going to add a donation system like Ao3 and Wikipedia.

They would “rather not” sell data to make up the costs

Most of staff are pre-2010 tumblr users including the CEO who joined in 2007, so they do actually use the site and have for a long time

The bad news:

Condensed reblogs/removing reblog chains is going forward. The reason cited was to meet “certain expectations” of users coming from other social media, which isn’t good.

Disability features (specifically turning off flashing ads for epileptics) was met with a request to purchase Ad-free

Overall it was more chill than I expected, @photomatt and @zingring seem to be far more in tune with the userbase than u/spez.