#you better think it's bad for the same reasons i do

[smollsmule]

Ok my queue spit this out after I saved it for later, so let me add some nuance here. Because this is a very importand issue, actually.

Of course nobody is prohibited from readin the books they enjoy. Hell, I like me some easily digestible fluff too! Some of my favourite book series are ya (and genuinely great books despite being “easy to read”).

There is something to be said however about limiting yourself to only engaging with that level of difficulty in reading. And before you come at me, I know that many people don't read at all and to many others reading is simply a hobby to unwind after a long day, where they just wanna turn their brain off and have some fun. Which is a totally fair reason to read. BUT. Reading (or more broadly, literacy) will never be just that. You live in an age of (mis)information and you WILL be confronted with texts (speeches, video clips, what have you) that are hard to dissect. Especially the ones that don't seem like it at first glance.

Media literacy is not only about how quickly you can summarise a paragraph or being able to pull quotes to show how maybe a character could be read as queer (although both of those things are a very good indicator of having advanced literacy). It's the VITAL skill of filtering and assesing information presented to you before so you can make an informed choice to internalise or discard it. It's being able to understand the information in the first place by grasping a complex thought presented to you in writing or in a speech because the simple truth is that not all truths are simple.

Media literacy gives you the ability of identifying that someone is trying to make you believe something and parsing why they're doing it by identifying the tools they are using. Which means you also need to know the tools they have at their disposal. It also means being able to connect points brought up before in the same or different texts to see if there is inconstencies or leaps in logic or if the argument someone is making only looks good because they use big words and a sentence structure that “feels” smart, but actually falls apart as soon as you poke at it a little.

Forgive me sounding alarmist, but if you can't read at that level people who have these tools WILL have power over you and you won't even have the tools to notice that they do. Even if people are not actively trying to harm or manipulate you, if you're unable to engage with their ideas you will get left behind in certain vital discussions and that not only feels like shit because everybody gets it but you, but it also again makes you incredibly vulnerable to those who do have bad intentions!

Now does that mean you only get to read Proust from now on? Of course not! I still do believe that a piece of literature can directly and fundamentally change your life. I know it has for me. However, that is a personal opinion and it doesn't mean I can force anyone to engage with deep philosophical manifestos on what it isto be human in this world. And even less that I want to do that, despite me thinking that literally ANYONE could benefit from reading that kind of thing. But you NEED to be able to read complex texts outside of your comfort zone for honest to god survival. I am so fucking serious.

And, hey! The good news is that this is not some secret mystical power you either get blessed with or not. It is a skill you can train, by reading challenging material. Books with more complex sentence structures, more nuanced ideas or arguments. Books that force you to think about them. I hate to say it but the only way to get better at reading is to read. It doesn't have to be fiction but i will be very real with you, I doubt that - if you're putting down a book because it's unreadable to you based on the chosen perspective - you'll be the type to pick up scientific essays or anything like that.

Don't cut yourself off from vital skills by locking your mind in a box. You are capable to handle those more complex texts, and I'd wager you'll even enjoy it once you find your niche (yes! you still get to have preferences!). You just need to give yourself a chance to learn.

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader x Roman Reigns 🖤 Summary: Reader has been sleeping with both Damian and Roman Reigns, confident they’re ignorant of one another. After being invited to Damian's hotel room late one night, she discovers he’s not the only one she’s there to entertain. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. Oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v/a, anal, double penetration, praise, Daddy kink, name-calling, cum 18+ 🖤 Taglist: In the comments. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 🖤 Requested By: @bearbutlikeprincessbear. Hope you enjoy! 🖤 MASTERLIST

When she first began sleeping with Roman Reigns, she never expected, had any interest, or even needed to seek out other suitors. Until Damian Priest came along at the club, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her to the dance floor where their bodies moved in synchronicity, their skin perspired, and he whispered the absolute filthiest things in her ear as she was grinding her hips into his. And so while entertaining Roman, she made the easy decision to also see Damian on the side. Nothing wrong with it—none of them were attached and none of them were interested in long-term relationships—so she never foresaw any issues, considering the Tribal Chief was on one brand and the Archer of Infamy was on another, which would give them no reason to ever cross paths. Unfortunately for her, she’d been so blinded by the all the fucking, she’d failed to consider the paid live events.

And so here she was, on her knees and elbows on a generic hotel bed with generic, scratchy hotel blankets under her. Her baby pink blazer and white satin tank top were heaps on the floor, matching mini-skirt bunched around her waist, panties in tatters around her thighs. Damian’s long cock buried itself in her tight cunt every few seconds, the momentum shoving her forward and impaling her throat further on Roman’s spit-covered, thick cock. She gagged, body convulsing, but she purred from the intrusion—on both ends—as her eyes rolled back and her cheeks hollowed.

“Fuck,” Damian wailed, hands vices on her hips. “Every time she gags, her cunt fuckin’ milks my dick.”

“You hear that, baby girl?” Roman rumbled. He was seated in front of her, back against the headboard, legs spread lewdly, a woman receiving the pounding of the century from behind slobbering all over his cock. She tilted her head so she could comfortably look up at him. “He likes it when you gag almost as much as I do.” Both his hands cradled the back of her skull as he pushed her down on his length once more, her entire being again contracting, and suddenly Damian wasn’t inside her anymore and she felt abandoned and empty and a little fucking pissed off. 

“Uh-uh,” the Puerto Rican refused. She pulled off Roman’s dick, however reluctantly, and glanced over her shoulder. Damian had backed up several steps and he had a hand virtually strangling his polished-with-pussy-juices cock. “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta do it now.”

Roman tenderly cupped her chin between his fingers and turned her face back to him. “You ready?”

She cast her gaze down at Roman’s weeping, rigid cock as he stroked it with a loose fist, and she bucked her hips and clenched her pussy around nothing. Roman’s chuckle was like thunder in the distance, and it did nothing to suppress her agitation or prevent the baby pterodactyls in her stomach from taking flight. She had no idea what awaited her, having never experienced before what was about to happen, but she couldn’t deny how bad she wanted to at least try it … to at least attempt to get both these impressive cocks inside her ass and pussy at the same time. And she couldn’t think of two better men to experience it with. Her blown pupils slowly lifted to meet Roman’s.

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.

“Good,” Roman replied, before the declaration was even completely out of her mouth. He leaned forward so his fleshy lips grazed hers as he finished, “Because it’s this dick right here that’s goin’ in that ass.” He wiggled his cock for good measure, and it wasn’t very quiet when she gulped.

The men were fluid as they moved about the room, as if they’d practiced, as if maybe they’d done this before. Heading off any thoughts in that particular direction, she smiled as she climbed atop Damian. His grip was once again on her hips, and her hips throbbed and she might’ve winced a time or two when he squeezed, but she knew this pain paled in comparison to the new kind of pain that was in her immediate future. She sank torturously slowly onto his cock, her soaking pussy sucking him in deep much like her throat had with Roman’s dick.

“There she is,” Damian breathed, fingers gliding from her hip, tickling her belly, scraping a nipple barely peeking above the cup of the bra she still curiously wore, ending their journey at the back of her neck. He pulled her lips to his, capturing them, imprisoning them with his expert technique and unmatched ability to be both delicate and voracious simultaneously. A cold trickle slipped down the crack of her ass, her body froze, and she severed the kiss. Damian was quick to cradle her face and focus her attention on him and not the pain and discomfort about to befall her. Maybe you should stop thinking about it that way. Maybe it’s gonna feel amazing. It’s Damian and Roman, after all. “If you don’t wanna do this, we can stop right now,” Damian whispered, the tips of their noses kissing.

She gazed into his smoldering eyes, easily finding comfort and true sincerity, and her hand floated to his cheek. “I wanna do this,” she murmured.

Damian once more claimed her mouth while Roman’s finger circled her puckered hole, and it tickled and it was a little weird, but then it felt … good. Incredibly erotic, and her pussy gushed around Damian’s cock. He pumped in and out of her slowly, occupying her mouth and tongue, and before she knew it, Roman had three fingers buried in her asshole, and she was virtually screaming down Damian’s throat, rocking her hips to ride both his dick and Roman’s digits.

“Oh, your ass is ready for this cock, ain’t it?” Roman teased, easing his fingers out of her so he could slap her ass cheek with his length. “Cute little tattoo,” he uttered, now rubbing the leaking head along her sensitive skin, and she knew exactly where he was spreading his precum. She’d never even imagined a scenario where Roman and Damian randomly met at the hotel bar, shared a few drinks, and then a few stories about the women they were sleeping with only to discover those women had the exact same tattoo in the exact same spot, but here they were. “Let’s find out if it’s true, huh?” That hadn’t been the meaning behind the beautiful red script spelling out the word paradise on her right cheek, but she supposed it did seem appropriate now. She hoped, anyway.

She felt the fleshy head of his cock poke at her entrance and her hand left Damian’s face to instead dig her nails into his chest. She felt blood before she was without warning hauled backward, shoulders slamming into Roman’s sturdy chest, and she cried out as he slipped further into her passage. Roman was a true dominant, in and out of the ring, in and out of the bedroom, so it wasn’t very far fetched for her to expect to be degraded, at least a little, for not immediately being able to take his length, or for whining in pain as he pressed another inch inside her. His tattooed arm came into view, fingers applying surprisingly gentle pressure on her chin until she turned to him.

“You’re takin’ me so good,” he praised. Her eyes lifted, full of renewed hope,  determination, and pride. Compliments in a non-derisive way were few and far between, and she intended to bathe in the accolades for as long as possible. “I know it hurts, baby girl, but you’re a fuckin’ champion. You hear me? Our champion.” Her heart swelled and her fingers unconsciously slid down her body and directly into her dripping folds where she found her clit and, just a little further inward, the base of Damian’s glazed cock, the rest of which was still stuffed deeply inside her cunt. Damian grunted and squirmed, and her smile was drunk as she stared blankly at her Tribal Chief, hypnotized by Roman’s unusual softness. “See, that was nothin’.”

Snapping out of her reverie, she was overwhelmed by the sensation of being utterly full. Roman had genuinely mesmerized her with his words, with the bottomless pits that were his eyes, and he’d sheathed himself to the hilt in her ass without her noticing. Now fully aware, however, the burning returned, the splitting, and she whimpered, clawing at Roman’s arm now. Easily noticing her stress, Damian untangled her from the Samoan’s embrace and pulled her back down to him, cradling the back of her head and splaying a hand across her upper back.

“Right here,” he rumbled into her gaping mouth, “stay right here with Papi. You hear me?”

She nodded, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Damian’s soulful ones, and her lips collided with his before she knew it. He was her comfort, her weighted blanket, her favorite teddy bear, and the spell he cast on her through his lingering lips kept her mind occupied as Roman gripped her hips, pulled out, and shoved himself back in as if he were fucking her pussy. It hurt, bordering on agonizing, but Damian’s mouth was so perfect and gifted that it hurt just a little bit less, the three of them going on like this until she’d fully accepted Roman with an amount of pain that was both uncomfortable and pleasurable. 

“You love this, don’t you?” Roman panted. When she gave no answer, he snatched her hair and yanked, her lips releasing Damian’s with a wet smack.

“Yes, Daddy, I love it,” she breathed.

“Yeah, you do,” Roman mumbled. “Show me. Ride these dicks like the whore you are.”

Hands on the bed on either side of Damian, she rose until her elbows locked. Damian’s hands were coarse and callused as they traveled the invisible roads of her upper body, and she smiled down at him as she began gently rocking her hips, drawing the cocks within her ass and pussy as deep inside her as possible before releasing them to the cold air surrounding them, repeating the process until she couldn’t bounce fast enough on them. 

“That’s it,” Damian moaned, “just like that.”

“Shit, all you need is a cock for this mouth, huh?” Roman mocked, giant hand wrapping around her throat. “What you think about that, Priest? Plug up all this bitch’s holes.”

“Fuck,” Damian muttered, pinching and tugging at her nipples.

She screamed, jaw dropping, and Roman’s hand was swift in making the relocation from her neck to her face, long fingers dipping inside her mouth. Her lips automatically closed around his digits and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked because what else is a girl supposed to do when Roman Reigns sticks his fingers in her mouth?

Time went on, doused in a mixture of sweat, screams, desire, and the fundamental need to cum. Roman lost control first, hand between her shoulder blades, shoving her chest into Damian’s, and he leaned forward, most of his weight now on her hips and ass as he fucked into her recklessly. He cried out—she thought he was speaking Samoan, but she couldn’t be sure—releasing himself inside her, and his pumps became slower and less powerful until he pulled out altogether, slapping her tattoo once more with his softening dick.

“Y’all can … take care of that, right?” He had to be referring to the mess he’d just made that would eventually come leaking out of her. “I got somewhere to be.”

The relief alone she felt when only Damian was buried within her nearly sent her head first into an orgasm. It had been a wild moment, an experience she could check off her bucket list, but she’d be lying if she denied feeling a bit stressed at the thought of being responsible for pleasing two men. Of course it was a hot idea, but realistically, the logistics were a bit more muddled than she cared to deal with again. And, though she would never admit this to anyone, especially the two men involved, she preferred Damian and his attentiveness and his kindness and the gentle fucking he was famous for. Roman was the choice when she needed to be used or slapped around. Damian was the choice for everything else.

“We’ll take care of it,” Damian mumbled, and she smiled just as he seized her lips once more. 

She hardly registered the hotel room door opening and closing, Damian flipping their positions smoothly, putting her on her back and settling between her sticky thighs. Her hands glided reverently up his chest, squeezing his shoulders, continuing to his face.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, taking her hands off him one after the other, imprisoning them between his hands and the mattress on either side of her head, his grip secure, though not constricting.

“Yeah,” she purred, rolling her hips in an attempt to find some friction, and Damian grinned at her desperation. 

“But you need your special time with Papi, hmm?”

“I always need my special time with Papi.”

Finally he started fucking her, lazily at first, gradually picking up speed. She suddenly felt Roman’s warm cum begin leaking out of her ass and into a puddle on the bed, Damian’s thrusts now coming with a wet smack every time he slammed into her. She gasped, lips parting, pussy pulsating around Damian’s solid length, breasts bouncing, and she came with a wail she would be embarrassed over later. Her hands were fists as they wanted nothing more than to touch Damian, feel him, run her fingers through his hair, but he refused to release her until after he’d filled yet another one of her holes with sticky cream.

“You’re a mess,” Damian grinned, climbing out of bed. She couldn’t help the satiated smile and stretch as she watched Damian disappear into the bathroom, assuming he was on a mission to retrieve a wet washcloth. They were gonna need more than that, she thought, just as she heard the water in the tub come to life, and her smile nearly broke her mouth. “Now let’s get you cleaned up,” Damian returned, clapping his hands and holding them out. She rolled her eyes, moving into a sitting position, but Damian suddenly scooped her into his capable arms, tossing her an inch or two in the air to get a better grip. “I don’t think it’s big enough for both of us, but …”

“I guess you’ll just have to wash me from outside the tub then,” she sighed.

Damian kissed her forehead. “My pleasure.”

[sturnlsstuff]

PANCAKES | chris sturniolo

in which you made your boyfriend pancakes, later finding out he doesn't like them.

fluff, no warnings, based on this request !!

you've never felt more stupid in your life than when you found out from the new triplets' Q&A video, that Chris doesn't like pancakes. which was ridiculous, you made him chocolate chip pancakes three weeks ago while visiting him and he didn't say a word.

you just found out about it while watching their video on your flight to los angeles for your second visit. wondering how you didn't notice it, but how were you supposed to, when he ate the pancakes with a smile on his face and gave you a kiss on the forehead, telling you how yummy it was? but you still felt bad, you've been in a long distance relationship with chris for almost two months now, thinking that you already knew him better than that, but clearly not.

having spent the entire day at the triplets' place with chris, it was finally evening and you both got hungry. you were now in the kitchen wondering what you wanted to eat, when you decided to see if he would lie to you again.

"i can make the chocolate chip pancakes if you want... y'know the ones i made the last time i visited you," you say, leaning against the counter and watching him closely, seeing how he pauses for a second, but then turns to you with a smile on his face. now you knew it was a fake smile.

"sounds so good, ma, but maybe we could eat some pizza?" he swallows, trying to sound casual and turns back to you, clearly avoiding your gaze and he grabs a can of pepsi from the fridge. "s'late anyway, maybe you could do the pancakes tomorrow morning, hm?"

narrowing your eyes, this time you can clearly see that he doesn't like these fucking pancakes. makes you wonder how you could be so stupid, not to notice what your own boyfriend likes or dislikes.

"i kinda feel like eating pancakes though," you say only to see if he's gonna finally say the truth or not. chris looks back at you, the wheels in his head racing, trying to think of any reason not to make these pancakes. he felt bad really, but he just loved you so much, he was ready to eat something he doesn't like again so as not to make you upset.

"a'ight, fine." he nods, taking a sip of his soda before putting it down and already starting to look for ingredients. "whatever y'want, baby."

the little smile he gave you, the way he was ready to actually do it, makes your heart race. it was a little thing, but the fact he'd actually force himself to eat something he dislikes and not say a thing, was making you feel bad for him and at the same time love him even more.

"chris." you say bluntly, walking closer and taking the bowl from his hands onto the counter, causing his attention come back to you. "why are you doing this?"

"what?" a frown appears between his eyebrows as he looks down at you, his blue eyes intense, "'cause we're hungry? and you wan' pancakes—"

"no, not that." you sigh and confront him, "i mean, you don't even like pancakes, so why do you wanna make them with me anyway?"

"huh?" he immediately starts denying it, "that's not... what are ya talkin' about--?"

"i watched the new video." you confess, seeing how his expressions changes from confusion to understanding and then guilt. seeing him want to interrupt, you shake your head and continue, "why didn't you tell me that you don't like pancakes? i made them for you and you just ate them, not saying a simple word—"

"it's not..."

"...you could just tell me, i would make something else! it was enough to say that you're not a big fan of them and it's fine, i would immediately..." chris tries to cut off your yap, but you just keep going, "... and then i'm looking on tiktok, realizing even your own fans know, but not me when i'm supposed to be your girlfriend, which means i don't know you at all, which means i'm a terrible girlfriend and i feel stupid and i'm awful and—"

the feeling of his hands cupping your cheeks and his lips pressing against yours, shut you up. you hum in response as he kisses you, your hands fall to either side of your body. a few seconds later he pulls away slightly, looking into your eyes and raising his eyebrows, "you done?"

you just pout, still feeling awful, while chris continues cupping your cheeks. "call y'self a bad girlfriend again and i'll fight you," he says sarcastically, but then adds more seriously, "s'just pancakes. and yours were really fuckin' delish, so stop callin' y'self awful."

"but you don't like pancakes..."

"yeah, i don't, but..."

"so why didn't you just tell me?!"

chris sighs, now feeling guilty that you found out the way you did, causing you to feel bad of yourself. "what, was i supposed to break your heart and not eat the food y'made f'me, when you were so excited?"

"chris, i'm a big girl, i would survive it." you roll your eyes, "i wouldn't wanna force you to eat something you don't like. especially lying to me that it was good—"

"hey." he cuts you off, "relax. i didn't lie, it was in fact really yummy."

giving him a glare, you mutter, "now you're just saying that to make me feel better..."

"no." he shakes his head, "m'sayin' that 'cause it's true. i don't like pancakes, but you did a great job. end of story."

he steps back, while you keep pouting. you wanted to believe him, but he probably wouldn't even tell you if the pancakes were awful, so as not to upset you.

chris sees that you're still unsure, so he speaks up again, before taking a sip of his pepsi, "listen, baby, i'd tell ya, yeah? at some point... but that was your first visit here, you took time to make me breakfast 'n you were so happy. that's why i couldn't spit it out." he glares at you, "but i mean it when i say it was good. if i had to eat it again, i'd chose you to make 'em."

your face finally lights up with a little smile, which causes chris to grin as well, "there she is..."

"next time i wanna know from you if you don't like something. not from the internet. got it?" trying to look scary, you point your finger at him, but it only causes chris to chuckle.

"yes, ma'am."

"now gimme some eggs, i'll make waffles..." then you pause, giving him a suspicious stare, "you do like waffles?"

"yes. oh god, yes i do." his eyes sparkle when he opens the fridge and starts giving you the ingredients you need. "if y'make me some waffles, i'll actually take you out on a date tomorrow."

"perfect."

@certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess

[8-evil-annoying-catboys]

not sure if vaping was truly originally invented as a way to help cig addicts but it didn’t work and there were multiple other better solutions that already existed and didn’t look cool enough to get the new generation hooked, like nic patches and gum, so i would hazard a guess that they just claimed that as a foot in the door, knowing that eventually kids would start vaping even after mostly agreeing that cigarettes aren’t cool anymore.

but seriously, vapes are just high-tech cigarettes. unregulated so they all most likely contain many of the same addictive and carcinogenic fillers as cigs, the very same fillers that make it so much better for you to roll your own cigarettes than to buy packs (altho it’s still bad for you overall). they still burn your lungs and throat, just with steam instead of smoke so people pretend it’s safer (it’s not).

i also don’t even trust THC vapes because who knows wtf else is in there? better to buy or grow flower and smoke it, or even better, just use edibles, then you don’t have to damage your lungs and throat at all! plus THC vapes usually don’t have any CBD, or they have very little, and the reason that smoking weed is less likely to cause cancer than smoking cigarettes is because CBD is an anticarcinogen—which means that THC vapes with no CBD are equally likely to give you cancer as nicotine vapes are, while smoking the flower vs smoking cigarettes is a whole different story.

i, for one, am not excited to see how my generation ages, what with the prevalence of vapes among people under 40. i watched cigarettes slowly drain the life from my grandfather, and i’m watching his daughter, my mom, willingly follow in his footsteps with my dad along with her. i’m so glad that my siblings and i are all in agreement that we won’t do the same, but concerned for them since they are both younger than me and i don’t know that they’ll never vape, and i don’t know if they even remember when people used to call vapes e-cigarettes or if they only know them as vapes, since ik i was pretty young when the name change happened, i barely remember when people would call them e-cigs, but i DO remember it.

and like.. on that note.. it seems to me that the shift in language was intentional. electronic cigarettes/e-cigs as a name for nicotine vapes inherently ties them to cigarettes, which have mostly fallen out of fashion with young people (although it seems like they’ve actually started getting more popular w/youth since vapes were invented tbh, but i don’t have solid evidence for that). calling them “vapes” as short for vapor, seems like an intentional rebranding to distance them from cigarettes, despite being every bit as bad for you as cigarettes are, maybe even worse.

some states are trying to mitigate this, by not allowing vapes in flavors other than mint to be sold, but tbh i think vapes should be illegal altogether. they should never have even been invented, and everything’s gotten worse since then re: nicotine addiction. banning candy and fruit-flavored vapes is a good start, but you know what? alcohol tastes like piss, but people still drink it, including kids. not having any access to tasty vapes isn’t gonna stop kids from vaping, especially if they’ve already started. vapes should simply be illegalized and nic patches/gum should be more prevalent and accessible for people of all ages trying to quit smoking or vaping.

if you haven’t already, please don’t start vaping. it’s literally just as bad for you as cigarettes, and being bad for you is the reason why cigarettes are fucking lame as hell.

I know I sound like your mom but you kids need to stop fucking vaping

[bonnyhoddie]

Rodger and Glisten

I’ve been playing Rodger recently to get Main research but I prefer Glisten a lot more, and I find his extraction dialogue a lil amusing considering Glisten’s better at extracting than him. Also I feel like they’re both just as competitive as each other, but Glisten just shows it more.

Would higher extraction speed mean Glisten is smarter or stronger than Rodger? He’s not the best at skill checks and I’d never use the magnifying glass and award combo for him but he can turn the wheel on the machine better than everyone else except Vee.

Also omg if anyone with good luck wants to do a main hunt lemme know, I haven’t found a main at all in 2 days, and I have 43% Shelly research I really want herrr

Any of the mains really but Shelly’s cute and I think she’s super useful with her abilities, skill check stat and trinket. Then I want Sprout and Pebble after.

Also, rant time despite not actually being mad or annoyed or anything, actually it’s kinda funny:

Why does everyone just drop like flies on the first floor. Like, god damn, a full lobby of 8 people and it drops to 2 or 3. It won’t even be filled with noobs either, like, they’d all have toons that require them have experience at the game, like Gigi, Teagan and Goob, but chaos ensues. Like, all of a sudden, nobody can hide, everyone’s being chased and I’m just there watching and hearing everyone die and just like that, either I’m completely on my own or with 2-3 other people. Having only 1 or 2 people die on the first floor is so rare for me for no reason.

I also had another Rodger call us all stupid idiots for ‘not planning a run better’ because the distractor died floor 2 and they died at the very start of floor 3 and had 1 heart.

Which, first of all, we can’t plan a run with a) not knowing people’s specific skills since they’re all strangers, just their toons, and b) everyone fighting to get to an elevator, meaning the toons we like might not even get in because a noob or a toon we just like less gets in.

And, second of all, if you NEED a distractor to survive floor 3, play some solo games or a normal run, not one that is meant to be long, cause clearly you need to work on some things. If it were just mistakes or bad luck (which happen a lot to me) that’d be perfectly fine, but not relying on a distractor to exist just to survive and completely dropping your guard just because there’s a distractor. Get some skills at that rate.

Also, distractors, I love you so so so much and appreciate all you do, but please sprint a lil sometimes, every time I see the twisteds running so close to the distractor I get scared of them turning at some points, accidentally running into something or someone, or Panic Mode happening, because those catch a lot of people out, including me when I’ve played distractor Tisha and Razzle (yes, with both the plush and shoes, you’d never catch me playing distractor without both of those), and every time, I see those same distractors that don’t run every now and then for a lil more distance get hit.

[kyouka-supremacy]

In vol 13, at the end of chapter 52, Akutagawa says to Atsushi "...Hmph. Nothing special about that. I suppose he's far crueler than my own mentor."

If you don't mind, I'd like to know what is your take on its meaning

THANK YOU, I love this ask. I think that little line is so so meaningful, because it gives us additional insight on what Akutagawa and Dazai's relationship is like and on Akutagawa’s feelings towards Dazai. There’s so much nuance to it, because it makes Akutagawa aware. So often in fancontent Akutagawa is completely oblivious to Dazai's abuse, utterly blinded to Dazai's cruelness. But he's not!!! He's not!!! And it's suchhhh an eye-opener line about his character. Because, you know what? Akutagawa actually understands Dazai deeply. Way more than one would guess upon first impression. And the reason of that is because Akutagawa and Dazai are ultimately similar: they're both the “doing evil” to Atsushi and Chuuya's “doing good”¹.

Akutagawa comes close to understanding Dazai: I think during the time they spent together in the pm he got intimately acquainted with a side of Dazai no one else knows, for better or worse. I even think that since Dazai thought so lowly of Akutagawa, he didn't spare the same effort for putting masks on for him as much as he did with everyone else; as consequence, Akutagawa ended up seeing sides of Dazai that Dazai rarely revealed to other people. And I'm not talking exclusively about bad sides, but also vulnerable sides, fecets that overall he doesn't usually let emerge.

This mutual understanding - and isn't that a surprising sentence by its own! The understanding is mutual, doesn't go only in one direction, Akutagawa actually understands Dazai plenty – comes from a similarity between the two that, I've said many times before, is likely source to Dazai's otherwise unexplained cruelness towards Akutagawa. In Akutagawa's dark, bottomless, empty eyes, Dazai sees his own, and he utterly hates how Akutagawa embodies everything that's despicable in himself, the same emptiness, the same void. In the end, they both want to find a reason to live, while also being highly suicidal.

When I say “understands”; it's not about understanding what goes through Dazai's mind (that would be, for comparison, what Dostoyevsky gets closer to do); for Akutagawa it's a more instinctive understanding induced by their closeness, their similarity, their sharing the same sentiment of struggle in finding an explanation for the act of existing. The “can you give me a reason to live” from The Heartless Cur that counts for the both of them.

They're the same, and that's how Akutagawa can get Dazai, deeply. That line reveals exactly that! “Dazai is plenty cruel himself”. Akutagawa knows Dazai isn't a good man; but that's a separate thing from wanting his approval. It's not only this line; this understanding Dazai of Akutagawa is, I believe, reiterated consistently (if subtly) in the manga. It's in “You know [what mafia is like] better than anyone else” from chapter 4 and it's in “It'd take more than that to kill the man” from chapter 35 and it's in the way he talks about Dazai in chapter 51. It's in “There's no way you're dead. You are somewhere here in Yokohama. I just know it.” from the Entrance Exam light novel. When in Dead apple he says that Dazai joined the enemy, he's wrong; but if you ask me, that shows how Akutagawa understands the potential of the darkness within Dazai's soul better than Atsushi (but at the same time fails to see the possible goodness in him, because Port Mafia Dazai is what Akutagawa has ever known). I feel like all these moments are symptomatic of Akutagawa understanding Dazai on a level that's way deeper than others.

TL;DR: That line is so important to understand the depth of Dazai and Akutgawa's relationship because it shows how much Akutagawa gets Dazai, making of Akutagawa a much more cognizant character when it comes to Dazai than what one may think!

More on Akutagawa and Dazai's relationship: (1) (2) (3)

¹ Chuuya is the good half of the skk duo. It's just that whereas Atsushi does good in a more general sense, Chuuya's acting is mostly lead by willingness to do what's good for the Port Mafia. Still, both Atsushi and Chuuya act on way more altruistic basis than Akutagawa and Dazai do, am I wrong?

[hiraethminds]

This is a tangent, I'm here to entertain with needless rambling

The deep rooted hatred for taco I see in the II community genuinely concerns me. Especially since those people tend to be Mephone "apologists"(For lack of a better word, I love Mephone don't get me wrong) despite how taco is the "active" side of the coin to his "passive". The connections between them are there trust me Im connecting the dots. Ive connected them.

I understand that she's done bad things, but blaming her for her shortcomings when she doesn't and never had the same support group to change as Mephone did makes me a little ehh.. Getting upset because Microphone showed her support in the new episodes simply because you don't like the ship(I understand why people wouldnt but thats not an excuse to deny her anything), and because Taco doesn't know how to change yet and you refuse to see her as anything redeemable. I'm not big on shipping, thats not the point of this tangent, but Taco finally having someone to support her and help her change is a GOOD thing. Microphone was being the bigger person there, she was being mature and thoughtful because Taco clearly needs the help. The fact that people continue to deny Taco any kind of growth even if she goes about it in the wrong way makes me deeply uncomfortable. Because the moment any character does anything bad that isn't HER they don't say anything about it. She was shunned by her peers because she was playing the game and continued to 'play the game' so to speak.

Theres a deep rooted hint of misogyny in the way they treat her, but I wont yap about that you dont need to read allat.

I understand people have reasons for not liking characters! That's ok. But I've seen them actively go out of their way to harass people that DO like Taco and actively criticize enjoying her character.

They tend to take it as defending her actions. Which is not what's happening. I don't think oscommunity could handle vriska is all I'm saying.

Feel free to not answer this I just need whatever little imp is telling me to scream about it to get out. go draw a taco dis is driving me crazy

Thank you for dumping this in my inbox bigbarf200, I feel like a wise confidant.

okay so I don't interact/observe with the wider ii community (Mainly cuz i like playing with my touys without being bothered) So this information is so Interesting to me!!!

As you mentioned, the hate might stem from misogyny (and by the way, I’d love to read your essay—talk all you want, my friend!). This is a societal issue that affects every part of life.

That said, I also think some people might dislike her simply because she’s a hustler and stubborn. When she has a goal, she’ll do whatever it takes to achieve it, even if it means crossing into morally gray areas.

holding Mepad hostage > hijacking the show

lying and deceiving objects with good intentions > winning s1

seriously hurting Fan > winning Mic immunity

as you said in the greater scheme of things, she's genuinely done horrible things. But if you just accept that at face value you are missing out on such an amazing character. You have to consider her perspective and the circumstances of her birth (especially in a story like ii!!) to fully understand and come to an option on her. But I digress this is baby level analysis so ill move on.

people who think Mic being friendly towards Taco post e14 is out of character are misunderstanding Microphone as both a character and thematic device I think

that's literally the only rational reason I could think of as to why people would be mad about taco and mic being on good terms???

so yeah, these haters just sound like crazy irrational people who have a lot of pent-up emotions. crazy

anyways ty!!! I feel like I didn't have alot to add since, as stated, these people are just incredibly irrational. but its nice getting an earful of whagh the fuck the community is like. here are soem taco drawings for the occasion

[mistyycowoa]

Reasons why I haven't told a lot of people about my headmates lol

They're chill like we don't agree on stuff sometimes but they make hard times better. Like friends. They're like friends. Maybe you wouldn't want to be constantly taped to your best friend by being stuck in the same body but also it's not that bad because they are your best friend.

I don't think anything needs to be done about them. In fact, they kinda reduce my anxiety when they do talk. Even tho they don't often talk when I get severe anxiety.

I love seeing those posts where people are like “if you have headmates or whatever you should be on meds because that’s not okay” posts. Like neurotypicals just think that there’s some magical pill out there that will ‘cure’ anything they don’t consider ‘normal.’ Meanwhile, in the land of reality, my shrink thinks it’s pretty healthy that I’m finally getting to know my headmates, and has no intention of putting me on magic pills, because as long as I’m not hurting myself or anyone else, who cares what neurotypicals think is ‘normal?’ Actually, let’s be real: who cares what neurotypicals think at all?

[glisten-inthedark]

Epic Fix It and Time Travel

TW/ Mentions of non consensual touching

Epic Fix It where Odysseus finds himself back to moments before he yeets Astyanax out of the tower and this time around he decides that the gods that fucked around will find out because he's done with everyone's shit.

So he goes against Zeus' orders and doesn't kill the baby and takes him with him, and this time around he order Polites to stay inside the ship as they get to Cyclops' island.

This time he's prepared and laces the wine with a lot more lotus and is successful at killing the Polyphemus but something goes wrong and the creature finds out his name before Odysseus kills him.

They are nearing home when Poseidon shows up so this time around Eyrulochus doesn't open the bag because no one is starving and no one is questioning the King.

This time around Poseidon can't say shit about Odysseus not being ruthless but he's still pissed off but this Odysseus has zero fucks to give.

Athena praises him for his quick thinking and blablabla.

He opens the wind bag right in the middle of Poseidon's speech and gets himself and his men out (and he still has the sheep they killed too).

They end on Circe's island and Hermes helps Odysseus but this time no one gets turned into pigs ans they don't have to go to the Underworld.

However, they do have to go through Scylla and Odysseus decides to be honest with his men and warn there's a price and that 6 of them will die. Polites is at this point trapped inside of a place because Odysseus knows he'd want to offer himself as bait.

Now, we could debate whether or not Scylla would be picky because if not they could offer the sirens as bait to evade her but what do you guys think? Either way, either 6 random men die or sirens do.

Odysseus slowly starts to fall apart but Polites presence keeps him grounded, and he constantly gets amused by his friend that smuggled a winion onto the ship and that keeps playing with Astyanax.

In this version, I want Polites to be in love with Odysseus but you know Penelope ( 🎵 banana peels, banana peels 🎵) is the only person he loves so unrequited love it is - it may be a bitch but I do think it'd be interesting if we switched Povs)

And all things considered, they end up washing ashore Calypso's island, and she is her usual pushy self and Polites is like hell no, he absolutely won't allow Calypso anywhere near Odysseus and neither will he for that matter.

He understands the pain of loving someone and not being loved back, but he always respected Odysseus and his heart and he expects everyone else to do the same.

But all of his 593 men are alive and Calypso nevers hurts any of them and Odysseus begs Calypso to let his men go and he will do whatever she wants but Polites and Eurylochus but their foot down.

Also, Calypso hates Polites almost as much as she hates Penelope and Polites doesn't know the only reason he's alive is because Odysseus agreed to sleep next to her (not sexual but honestly that much better because she keeps trying to touch him).

Once Polites finds out he feels extremely bad.

Anyhow, Athena comes and saves the day with Hermes, they get released and are about to get to Ithaca when Poseidon shows up like a sore loser.

And from then on I don't know lmao.

I honestly don't think I'll ever write this so if anyone wants to, be my guest.

[spinchip]

Dot after the Never Realm.

There’s something sweet carrying on the breeze- sugary. Baked goods from the shop across the road, probably. Maybe a pie or cake from the picnics spread across the park. Maybe the lingering scent of her shampoo in her freshly washed hair. Dot didn’t seek out the source, staying in this little bubble of calm she’d created on this lone park bench. She just barely noticed it, her mind grasping for something that wasn’t the way her hands were still so cold or the chill creeping up the exposed skin on the back of her neck. Her hair was too short now.

She used to come to this park a lot as a child, back when the jungle gym was more wood than plastic and steel. It survived the great devourer attack, but it was torn up and discarded not long after. The wood had rotted out exposed to the elements, the finishing oils worn down and left to ruin over the years. Now the park was filled with shiny new pieces that made a once familiar comfort foreign and wrong.

Dot sits at the park bench anyway and watches the day pass. She’s been here for a long time, but there’s no desire to go home. She’s asked Zane for space so he was off to sleep for a while- she wants to feel bad about it, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t feel a lot of things nowadays.

a shadow passes over her but she doesn’t take her eyes off the trees on the horizon. It’s one of the ninja, she’s certain. Come to check on her. She wishes she could ask them for space and have them go off to sleep somewhere, too. Can’t she grieve the Never Realm in peace?

”Dakota.”

she turns to look at Leo out of pure surprise more than anything. He looks nice, dressed in clothes bought new and not second hand. He used to only ever buy things second hand, stubbornly scrubbing out stains or mending holes so he didn’t have to spend a dollar where he didn’t need to. He used to wear his shoes until the soles finally gave way- and then he’d super glue them and wear them even longer. Now, he’s dressed in a crisp white sweater, tan slacks, and a jean jacket with Sherpa lining. His shoes are so new they’re still shiny.

His hair is cut like it always was, but he’s grown out the stubble around his mustache into a short, neatly kept beard. He’s put on weight, but it looks good on him.

It takes her only a moment to compare him to the last time she’d seen him- some part of her mind latching on to his changes so she can avoid thinking of her own. She wants to keep doing it- keep examining him to notice all the things he is without her by his side.

”Hey.” She says instead. then, “What are you doing here?”

”Your friends are worried about you.” He says plainly, still standing outside the little bubble she’d made for herself.

”And they thought seeing you would make me feel better?” She asks flatly.

He takes it with grace, only looking stung for a moment before he smooths his features. All that training in law school paid off, “They were desperate.” He grins wryly, “Willing to try anything.”

”So they texted you and, what, you took the first flight out of Metalonia?” There’s something unkind in her voice that she can’t stop- a bitterness. Why drop everything for her now? Why not all those years ago?

He scuffs his boot on the ground and tries for a joke, “Well, the first flight was sold out so I had to wait for the second one.”

It is funny, but she doesn’t laugh. She turns her face back towards the horizon, watching the trees sway in the breeze.

”May I sit down?” He asks quietly, “Or would you rather I leave?”

There's a long pause before she can bring herself to reply, “Why’d you come all the way back home to sit on a bench with me?”

He looks down again, staring at his new boots, “…I guess… for the same reason you knew I was out in Metalonia… despite the fact we haven’t spoken in years.”

Her throat feels thick and it's hard to swallow. He must be a force to be reckoned with in the courtroom, noticing every little thing his opponent says and reading between the lines. She kept tabs on him and He came when he thought she would need him because-

”Okay.” She says, voice wobbling, “You can sit.”

So he does, and he stays even after the sun sets and it’s too cold out for a regular human.

For the first time, he doesn’t leave first.

[3gremlins]

my personal head canon is that spite isn't actually in opposition to lucanis at all but actually thinks of them as a unit. spoilerish lucanis musings

like even before you do the mindscape quest for him, spite refers to them as a "we" (spite comments "they know we're not right" if rook questions lucanis about his weird behavior during that first quest)

spite actually feels a lot more like cole than the in game narrative gives him credit for- he's a spirit of determination twisted- i'd think he would have been attracted to lucanis' bloody mindedness to stay alive/survive the ossuary already and want to assist in that (and maybe it got twisted by what the venatori were doing by forcing them together? is that how they were attracting the spirits maybe? like laying out sad humans as traps to turn them into demons? if it's in the writing, it's possible i missed it). i think the deal they make is just to put the bond in terms both understand, but there's something deeper there. (as with cole, im not sure if spite totally understands what he does sometimes is harmful to lucanis- like he wants a thing and throws a tantrum and hurts lucanis, but it's kind of like they haven't worked out boundaries? you def get the vibe that spite is also protecting lucanis in other ways and is just...bad at it. they spend a long time in DAI establishing that spirits are attracted to the living world/curious about it, but don't understand it completely either and have to learn to be people/to relate to people. )

also for the mindscape quest, spite actually comes and gets rook to get their help with lucanis- that's not really the behavior of a spirit forced to be somewhere or even making the best of a bad situation, but rather one that wants to be there/cares in some way.

i really wish the game let you refer to them in a more nuanced way- spirit touched/bonded or something instead of "abomination" because they're clearly not. Also especially if you've rolled a Mourn Watch Rook- like you'd think they'd have better language for it or be more understanding. We've seen 3 (4 if you count justice twice, maybe 5 if you count mythal/flemeth?) spirit/demon partnered/created characters in the narrative and i wish the writing around them was more thoughtful about it instead of it seeming sort of one off curiosity every time.

because it's so interesting! you could even see an alt universe where the reason fenris has got creepy lyrium ghost powers is there's some kind of spirit bond there too (hey it's the venatori doing creepy venatori shit, not that big of a stretch) and why he can veer sort of wildly the same way anders/justice can depending on hawke's empathy bond re: rivalry/friendship (like a darker flip of spirit cole versus human cole maybe? ) idk there's so much there and we get little breadcrumbs lol (that's okay, i've got fan art ideas)

[fierceawakening]

Yes! That’s… less of a clear answer than I feel comfortable with to join a movement or admire its leaders, but it’s something.

I always get the sense in conversations like this that people are much more comfortable than I am just being like “who cares about the edge cases?”

I care about them, both because I’ve *been* the victim of things committed by people too deep in their mental illness for anyone who tried to convince them to stop, and because if we truly believe everyone is a person (which I see as a key tenet of leftist values and part of why I choose them over right wing values in the first place) then we believe some things are too cruel even for people who do horrific things.

So I don’t see it as an issue we can avoid.

Also like I’ve mentioned I work at a homeless shelter. The reason a lot of academically inclined leftists can talk about crime like it’s rare is because they don’t spend time in environments where people who’ve committed crimes are common. I don’t think they’re wrong that most people are basically good, but I think they can be naive about what it takes to convince someone crimes are not a great idea. If someone has a patten of criming, it’s because that’s what they believe works for them. Getting them to stop is about changing their outlook and habits, which is far from impossible but a lot slower and more bumpy than many people who never did much criming want to think.

Also I think a lot of people really don’t have an accurate picture in their heads of serious mental illness. I think very often people have an idea that even very acutely ill people are fairly rational, and you can usually help them deal with their anxiety, give them meds, whatever, and they improve a lot. Again, I don’t think this is fundamentally incorrect; disease isn’t destiny. But having interacted with a lot of people whose illness is particularly intractable, I think that people often have… the same kind of image in their mind, where they don’t really understand how incremental incremental can be.

There are many people, including one client I’m very morose about, who improve a little when treated well, but a little isn’t enough. My moroseness? That client has been banned for fighting, unless she appeals the decision and wins. I don’t *like* the thought that she’s going to lose her place here and that’s likely to only make things worse… but I don’t have the fundamental confidence to say that kicking people out for violence is too cruel, we can make sure it’s fine. Making sure it’s fine is very clearly above my pay grade, and while there are people with more experience and better degrees than me I don’t have the impression they’re less confused.

All of which says to me that deciding we’re ready to stop imprisoning people who do bad things is at the very least premature (and to their credit a lot of abolitionists do agree that prisons will be phased out over time.) I think it’s unrealistic not just in a way that paints a rosy picture of humanity (as a whole? My picture of humanity is also fairly rosy!) but also in a way that fundamentally ill prepares us to really help perpetrators in ways that matter.

[pinkandpurple360]

I wouldn't blame anyone for finding Look My Way too Stolas-sympathetic and weepy but honestly I think on the whole it's way better than most of the songs he gets in the show

and that's because it actually has a narrative arc to it. Stolas reflects on his life, realizes he is the problem between him and Blitzo, actually shows some empathy for the armor Blitzo has developed as a result of being impoverished, then decides on an action: making amends for making Blitzo a means to an end. and it retains his original classist character by having the impish plaything line that the show whitewashed over

it still has the same problem anything Stolas related does in that it's hard to care about his repeated pleas for Blitzo to look his way, but it's a far more concise view of him as a character and crucially he actually shows some ability to self reflect in it and then take action based on his conclusions

ParanoidDJ released the original after ep6 but honestly it would fit perfectly in the show after ep7, where Stolas comes back in from the party. instead of getting drunk, maybe he stops and makes himself think about where things went wrong

instead the songs he has in the show are

Stolas Sings - immediately implies Blitzo lied to him, so no self reflection or introspection. It's set up he'll go to get a crystal but that isn't referenced in the lyrics, it's just a split second freeze frame when he chucks his book into view of the camera which is bad storytelling. It's all self focused self pity - he's the victim and that's that. no sign of care for what he's done to Blitzo or Via unlike Look My Way.

All 2 U - a breakup reflection where he does no self reflection or introspection. blames Blitzo for stuff he did (let him get too close/go on too long/fell too far). all self focused self pity - he's the victim and that's that

duet number - does say he maybe did something wrong, but it only counts if Blitzo didn't actually want him (then when Blitzo confirms that, he proceeds to...show no self reflection or introspection - just he's the victim and that's that, you get the idea)

the show numbers not only fail to move the plot forward, they don't move Stolas' character forward at all. Look My Way really sticks out as one of his numbers because it's basically the only one where he does explicitly say 'I'm in the wrong and need to fix things' where in the show it's always 'maybe I did something wrong, maybe, but you hurt me so you're more wrong and I'm putting off doing any self reflection on what my issues are until Tuesday - when I'll put it off again'.

he's far more proactive in LMW too - he doesn't sound like he'll just give up on making amends at the first failure. meanwhile Show Stolas has done only two proactive things when it comes to Blitzo onscreen: making the deal and breaking the deal. both things were done for his own benefit and he's now back to being passive and expecting Blitzo to be the one to come crawling back to court him even though Blitzo has every reason to think he moved on with the succubus dude to spite him in particular

This moment here

It wasn’t him feeling some guilt/remorse for how obnoxious and forceful he behaved, or sympathy for Blitzs unhappiness. He is thinking “Aww….he doesn’t love me, that makes me so sad. Poor me. I deserve love. I just want a lover.”

Well anon, the simple explanation LMW stolas is so different…..is, Vivienne/Sam Haft didn’t write that. They both do think stolas is the more innocent and more victimised party. That’s why before Full Moons confrontation, stolas has sung not one, not two but three sad ballads about his soft boy romantic feelings. And it’s why stolas’ personality was changed drastically between his nasty truth seekers self to his Ozzies bleeding heart self. To make you forget his 1-6 self ever happened and pity him.

While blitz was only allowed to smirk and make sex jokes in a verse of stolas’ third sad song. With the intent of making him look like the “real” pervert with a cold black heart. His verse in when I see him was intended by Sam to set up “that your first instinct is that it’s always (gasp) about sex (closes eyes solemnly)” line. Stolas is allowed to have an inner monologue, desires, worries, regrets and hopes. Blitz is only allowed say “fuck” “penis” and “im traumatised”** with an asterisk saying that makes him an asshole and not “baby” stolas’ fault. Spoken to you in apology tour dialogue delivered by the lovely: Vivienne Mayday aka Verosika Medrano.

Viv didn’t write look my way, and disagrees with the narrative.

She hates Octavia for not being more grateful to her father and thinks stolas deserves to be free from being her parent. So took his line about her out of the song. Twitter emboldened her to go through with this belief. So she took her line out of LMW.

She hates blitz for disliking upper classes, implies he’s “just like a supremacist” against princes for it. I think this also came from Twitter. You are NOT allowed to point out the racism of stolas or you’ll be branded a striker sympathiser.

She agrees with stolas fans that the real reason blitz doesn’t trust stolas’ gifts with no catch is nothing to do with stolas’ previous exploitative transactional actions….it is….because of his own mean imp father? Because Cash taught him love is transaction. A very convenient excuse Viv absorbed again, from Twitter and YouTube.

Cuz….it was cash. Not the sexual extorter who held his job over his head. That’s his soulmate cause owls only mate once via eye contact and die of broken hearts if they can’t have their mate forever. His 25 year long lust for someone he only knew as a child isn’t weird at all wdym. In fact all the bad stuff is Blitzs fault.

She absorbed all of this nonsense from Twitter takes, specifically the stolas stans, because she thinks putting fandom talking points into canon is a safe bet. The actual story is out the window, there isn’t one.

See how letting the stolas fandom twitter write your story for you makes for a biased fucked up victim blaming story that coddles a sexual abuser with “involuntarily celibate” arguments?

When she makes stolas reflect and take accountability, the reaction she wants you to have is “Poor baby stolas blames himself which shows what a good little boy he is! Even though nothing is ever his fault!” She just wanted to make money off of someone else’s work.

[aspenlovesmedia]

Au where the Web got to Jonathan first and made him an avatar, but he still works at the Archives and because of this Sasha is head Archivist instead and becomes an Eye avatar.

Meanwhile instead of the Lonely, Martin becomes an avatar of the Buried. Tim would slowly become an avatar of the Desolation.

This version of Jon would still be a huge nerd, but he wouldn’t talk much. He worked in research and his whole thing was being really good at figuring out the links between things, you know, like a web. Martin would be largely the same, but far more pushy when it comes to helping others. In this au, he becomes buried under his expectations of himself. Him and Jon would actually become a good duo though, as they would often work together as Martin was a much better people person than Jon was, and they were moved down into the Archives together essentially for the same reasons.

Sasha would also be pretty much the same at first. Gertrude expected her to be the next Archivist, and for good reason. While Sasha has no idea about the turth of it all, she knows her way around the Archives well, and her background in Artifact Storage is helpful. She picks up on patterns well, and when she realises many statements have common names, she asks Jon (and Martin by extension) to help her figure things out. The thing is, the more she learns, the more she experiences, the more desperate to solve the mystery she becomes.

Tim in this au actually does start out the same. He cares a lot for Sasha, and when he sees how the Archives are beginning to effect her, he notices quickly. The thing is, when he tries to tell her, she tells him once they’ve solved it, she’ll be fine, but while Tim wants to believe her, deep down he knows there will always be another mystery.

I haven’t quite figured out how other characters fit in yet. I have some very loose ideas for this au, and I have a huge soft spot for the Buried because I think it’s actually really interesting and I will forever wish we had a proper Buried representative which is why I chose the Buried for Martin. Basically I’m taking my own experiences with my past crippling people pleasing tendencies and giving them to Martin. Like if you think he was bad in s1 originally you’ve seen nothing lol. Jon in this au is both pretty different but not at the same time. He’s basically a less pretentious version of his s1 self? Like he isn’t friendly and is very sarcastic, but nobody really hears it because he’s just by himself in a corner.

I was tempted to do Web Martin, but then I had the idea of Buried Martin and I had to go with it. Also I just wanted to have some fun with this. Also I wanted a reason to have Jmart in this, and I just think it would be funny.

Sasha in this would be the most fun. Essentially she becomes fully obsessed with how connected the statements are, and is also determined to solve Gertrude’s murder. When she realises they’re connected, well, there’s no turning back for her. She doesn’t become paranoid like Jon does, but she will do anything if it means solving what the hell is happening in the Archives, no matter the consequences.

This au is just a bit of fun for me. I don’t have any current plans for it, but maybe I’ll write it one day. I jsut wanted to talk about it a bit.

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

a little fluffy snippet for @medecineformelancholy in which trent has a bad day and gets cuddles and a warm shower for it

admittedly not my bestest work as it was all done in the like the past hour and i'm literally on the verge of falling asleep but i wanted to write you something fluffy and sweet <3 i hope everything gets better soon 💗

Ted knew Trent had had a bad day when he came home soaked to the bone, hair plastered to his skull and dripping cold, expression tight and closed-off, and generally giving off the impression of a miserable kitten that had been dunked in a cold bath and was adorably, furiously grumpy about it.

Well, actually, he’d known Trent probably wasn’t having a great day when he’d not kept up his usual jitterhop stream of texts, chattering and clustered in places, telling Ted about his day or whatever he thought might make Ted laugh. Ted did the same in return, and with little to none today, Trent must have been busy, for better or worse.

Going by his miserable expression, worse.

The door closes behind him and his eyes catch Ted’s—who’d come to meet him when he heard the shuffling of the key in the lock—and his tense shoulders relax, slumping along with his expression.

“Bad day?” says Ted sympathetically, and he opens his arms, and without even pausing Trent takes a few steps forward, posture already loosening.

But then he falters, stopping in his tracks, and says, “Wait, I’m dripping wet. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinki—”

Ted easily closed the distance between them and pulled Trent into his arms, snug into his chest. Cold water be damned.

Trent freezes for a moment, then melts, slowly and hesitantly bringing his arms up to hug Ted back. He leans in, shivering a little. His nose is cold against Ted’s throat, his wet hair chilly on Ted’s shoulder, his whole body cold and shivery against Ted’s chest and in his arms.

But already, Ted can feel the warm leeching through his wet clothes, feel the blood pumping under his damp skin. He brings a hand up to rub fingertips gently against the nape of Trent’s neck, gently dragging his nails up and down there, making Trent shiver for a new reason.

He turns his head to press a kiss into Trent’s hair, hand coming up to cup the back of his head warmly.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “How about we take a warm shower?”

Trent shivers again, and Ted thinks it’s just the cold, but still, Trent burrows closer, clinging a little tighter.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says softly, and Ted squeezes him gently, strokes his hair—the thick curls plastered together in cold, wet cords, smooth with still-dripping water.  

“You know I want to,” Ted says, and Trent gives a pleased little sigh—not exasperated, but affectionate. Resigned, but not in a way that spoke of tolerance—Trent never simply tolerated Ted, but actually enjoyed is company in a way that made Ted feel warm and fuzzy—but of a sort of amusedly reluctant acceptance, acceptance of love he thought he didn’t deserve.

 “I know,” Trent says, almost a whisper, and Ted rocks them back and forth for a moment before finally pulling away, if only barely, hands still lingering on Trent’s body.

“Let’s peel you outta these clothes,” he says, Trent smiles, a weaker smile than his dorkiest, most radiant grin, but a real smile all the same.

Admittedly, undressing Trent is a little bit of a guilty pleasure of Ted’s.

It’s not even a sexual sort of thrill; the intimacy just gets to him in a way not much else can.

Ted’s hands on his body, tender and careful, undoing each button and tugging away cloth, slowly revealing more and more of Trent’s skin, his bare body. Often kissing along the newly exposed flesh as he did, to make Trent shiver happily or giggle or smile, depending on how, exactly, he was kissing. And where, for that matter.

And Trent, trusting and plaint under his touch, tipping into it and smiling at him and letting Ted peel him open, baring his throat for buttons.

Now, especially, feels intimate. Trent’s clothes are cold and sticking to him uncomfortably; his shirt thin and almost transparent under his blazer. He’s clearly cold, even feels cold to the touch, but trying to stay still. Ted wonders if his hands feel hot on Trent’s skin.

(However they feel,  though, Trent leans into them.)

Ted makes quick work of his own clothes and then Trent lets Ted guide him to the shower and under the stream of water he’s had running since before he undid Trent’s first button, and lets out a full body sigh of relief when the warm water crashes over his bare back.

Ted follows him in, and Trent reaches forward to tug Ted a little closer. He leans into his chest, head resting on his shoulder, sandwiched between Ted and the water, warmth flooding him on both sides.

Trent’s breathing is deep and even as he just stands there a moment in Ted’s arms.

“This oughtta warm you up a bit, huh?” Ted says, and Trent gives a laughing little hum, not pulling away. He nods, still no words, just savoring the heat.

“…Tell me about your day,” says Ted gently, and Trent groans a little into his shoulder.

“Just—” Trent mumbles something into his shoulder, more grumble than words, about his publisher and idiots and irksome before he takes a breath and says, quietly, “…tell me about yours instead? Please?”

“…nothing much happened,” Ted warns him. “Won’t be that interestin’.”

“I’m always interested in you,” says Trent, with the kind of honesty that hit you over the head, the sort of truth he’d used as a baseball bat in the early days that was now relegated to a sweetly oblivious and warmly casual wallop. “I wanna know everything.”

Ted pauses, a little taken aback, and then after a moment begins, “Well, the team’s doin’ pretty well, not that it’s a surprise…”

....

Ted mercifully takes a while to actually start doing anything other than just letting Trent stand there uselessly in the water, trying to get warm.

He’s cold, and he’d been miserable and annoyed and busy and lonely all day, so stepping into the shower with Ted—just this intimate little bubble, just them, Ted undressing him and warming him up, basically spoiling him, and Trent shouldn’t love being spoiled so damn much.

But here’s Ted, telling him about his day, his voice warm and soothing, going off on tangents and making Trent giggle despite himself, even as he pulls back enough to get the showerhead and shampoo and begin gently soaking Trent’s hair properly.

Ted’s broad, warm hands and careful fingers pushing through his hair. Working shampoo in, massaging his scalp, being so gentle and firm and perfect. It’s utterly relaxing, Ted talking to him and insisting on washing his hair just because he knew it felt nice. Ted taking care of him, just because.

Ted waves off attempts to return the favor—another time, he insists, and he can take his own shower later, this was about Trent—and for once, Trent’s too weak to do anything but accept without protest.

He had truly had such an awful day. And here was Ted, gently pulling him into a kiss, helping him dry his hair, leaving little kisses under his ear and down his throat and along his jaw.

He would do the same for Ted—has done the same for Ted—but it still feels revolutionary every time. How on earth can he possibly deserve this?

Deserving or not, soon, Trent’s in soft, clean pajamas, crawling into bed alongside Ted. Relaxed, hair dry and fluffy, no longer cold and wet but dry and warm.

Ted pulls Trent into his arms, lets Trent snuggle into his broad chest, arm curled over his soft stomach. He’s not cold at all anymore; the warmth has leeched into his bones, cozy and safe and curled around his heart like a dragon around gold.

“Thank you,” he mumbles into Ted’s skin. “I know—this couldn’t have been your plan for tonight.”

“Hey, I had fun,” says Ted, and Trent feels a hand in his hair, stroking gently through it. “I don’t mind a lazy night in. We can order some takeout if you like.”

“Maybe later,” says Trent, or tries to. He thinks he may have slurred the words, as sleepy as he feels, content and dozing on Ted’s chest. Ted’s arms are warm and heavy around him, and he feels safe and loved. The cold can’t touch him; everything upsetting from his day melted into mist. None of it can touch him now. Ted has him, and nothing else. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” whispers Ted into his hair, and Trent just drifts away, smile still on his lips.

[followerofmercy]

THANK YOU FOR PUTTING IT SO ELOQUENTLY

I woke up and chose brain mush today asldj;f. I believe this is the time when "using someone" becomes appropriate. When I'm in a workplace with a Racist Joe or Sexual Harasser, I do, usually, end up with a surface level civil enough work relationship no matter how much I hate them (or sometimes call them out), but that's less because they have valuable things to offer and more because I'm keeping tabs on them/trying to get dirt on them. If they're dangerous, they are no longer part of the Know A Guy network. If they suck that hard they're usually NOT worth working with, because like you said, they're hurt YOU too.

And, hell, if someone is Actively Dangerous like that, it's worthwhile to organize everyone to do something about them. Not, like, mob violence, but having an in-community support to deal with their rank ass.

There's a lot of nuance. I've had a lot of shitty people that I can be the voice of reason for - little reminders of "Hey, the women in your life have better things to do than put up with your shit. Hey, uh, I don't think that racist joke was funny. Why exactly do you think that's funny." with mixed results. Sometimes people CAN get better if they just have someone vocally disapproving of their actions. The reason a lot of these behaviors go unchecked is because they're surrounded by people that also do those behaviors, or, the only people that have been critical of them are strawmen on the internet they can feel attacked by.

Utilize peer pressure for good. I think internet circles especially have a bad habit of writing people off for Genuinely Sucking But In A Way That Could Get Better and, while it's nobody's job to fix them, the fact of the matter is that they're not gonna suddenly stop sucking without an outside influence. It really is wild how much Being Someone People Respect and Having A Different (and strong) Opinion can get people to stop and think about their biases.

...And then sometimes someone sucks so hard that your best option is "let them dig themselves a hole in front of you and then mount a counteroffensive" asldfj. Pick and choose your enemies. I used to be a homophobe because of how I was raised and now I'm not, mostly because the people around me were willing to answer my questions and also chime in when they didn't approve of my behavior. I was also raised in a racist society - just like everyone else here is - and no matter how much I work on it, I'm still gonna fuck up occasionally. I would appreciate correction instead of being written off as The Enemy.

Anyway be safe. Pick and choose the people you spend a lot of time with. I do think there's merit in being the only sane motherfucker that talks to the Kinda Racist but Could Get Better guy or the Kinda Misogynist but Not Actively Dangerous guy to get them out of their echo chamber, but at the same time, there's limits to how good of an influence you can be. Some people Are In Fact Too Dangerous To Work With. Use your best judgement

Networking/Knowing A Guy: A Guide

This is the autism website. Now, as an extension of the power of love and friendship, there are few things more useful than Knowing A Guy. Knowing A Guy means you have a support network. Knowing a plumber, or a tax accountant, or just that one dude that's really fucking good at finding the information you need when you're really overwhelmed, can be the difference between being able to pay rent and having a fun party with friends to fix your shit.

How does one end up Knowing A Guy? It's a skill you can develop called Networking and it is one of the foundations of society. Unfortunately making those connections with people is fucking hard and nobody makes a tutorial for it. So, here you go:

The golden rule is you scratch my back and I scratch yours

It is necessary for survival to seek out useful people

Great news! Everyone is useful in some form or fashion - including you! When given the opportunity to learn about someone, do it! Extroversion does not come naturally to some people and that's okay. Just take whatever falls in your lap.

Types of usefulness: trade skills, connections of their own, personality you jive with, pleasant to talk to, niche interest in shared hobby, security - the list is pretty much endless. I know a guy that lives in the metro area - no job, no major hobbies, inoffensively annoying to me personally, kinda ignorant, not attractive to me, but you know what? He knows how the fuck to get around the city by foot. My rural-raised ass APPRECIATES the guide.

Remember important information: general personality, background, skillset, likes and dislikes. You can find this information by making smalltalk about their life. There is no such thing as pointless conversation. (Yes, even the annoying smalltalk)

The more people you know, the higher the likelihood that one of them will be useful in a given situation - or will know someone who is.

It is overwhelming. In a given clique/community/workspace/whatever, there is A Guy Who Knows The Other Guys. This Guy is a shortcut. Find them. They're often elderly, extroverted, a little bit annoying, a secretary or in some otherwise forward-facing position. Look for people that are gossipy/talk about other people a lot but not in negative ways. If they constantly talk shit, they'll talk shit about you too. They're still useful but be careful with the information you share

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.*

If you have low self esteem, you're going to feel like you're using people. You're not. That's the devil talking. People like feeling valued and the connections you are making are the threads holding community together. Recognize people for their talents. It's only a problem when you're taking advantage of people

So: don't feel scummy about it. You're an animal. You have to claw out your right to survive and people will respect you more for it.

Luckily mutualism is the name of the game in the animal kingdom. Offer something back. The foundation of a Know A Guy relationship is Mutual Benefit

Sometimes that Mutual Benefit is just spreading news of the The Guy far and wide. My plumber friend is my actual friend and I love her to death, but I'm maintaining our backscratch relationship by pimping out her plumbing business to anyone that'll listen

Food is a good Mutual Benefit. People across cultures for all of human history have bonded over food. I have good success asking people for a favor and then offering to buy them lunch in return **

General compensation is also good. Offer a service in return and always do your best to offer financial compensation as appropriate. Having your plumber friend take a look at your drain: doable with a case of beer. Having your plumber friend redo the pipes in your entire house? You need to pay for that.

Being transactional is not necessarily a bad thing. I would advise against keeping an itemized list of things owed, but fish don't seek out cleaner shrimp just because they enjoy their company. Everyone gets something

Unfortunately being extroverted and generally personable is a huge benefit here, but that's the value of the Guy That Knows A Guy. There's someone out there that has consolidated All The Guys so you don't have to be the local expert. Always remember nobody can do everything and you don't need to master every skill

* This is the foundation of a functioning community. I have many acquaintances that I find incredibly annoying. They include doctors, welders, artists, social workers, lawyers, construction crew and random fuckers at the grocery store. I do not hang out with them. I do not have to in order to maintain a civil Know A Guy relationship. I can drop them useful tidbits and fuck right off so I don't have to spend any more time than necessary with them

** People may assume romantic intent. Be prepared for that. I generally denote that it's a friendly/work lunch by calling them bro at some point if they're my age. Otherwise my general demeanor is sufficient to show that I do this with everyone

Source: personal experience, mother's teachings of crime, booth vending and poverty