#but I’m serious about the clusterfuck

[dicktat]

what’s your most cursed dl/dl2 ship and whats your favorite dl/dl2 crack ship?

*unrolls a comically large scroll that hits your feet*

Well since you asked…y’all can’t blame me if my answer is bonkers.

I feel like most ships have been explored quite a bit since the game…doesn’t have many characters? However, the weirdest ship me and my friend came up with would probably be Bozak/Crane (lmao this is my chaotic clown duo). Bozak Horde was just the saw series with a touch of homoeroticism. Also someone got me interested in Rais/Crane fr and I don’t think it’s necessarily “cursed” but like,, not my proudest moment.

Okay let’s talk the second game. My opinion on ships is just a huge clusterfuck (I wouldn’t even call it a polycule anymore lol). I had a whole headcanon of Aiden going around Villedor making everyone his b helltaker style (look at him, he’s a dom okay he’s just inexperienced). But something that I haven’t seen quite often would be Waltz/Hakon or Waltz/Aitor. Shitty crackships! Being me I’m a huge sucker for hatefucks, more chaos=better. Juan and Aitor is nice too and I genuinely ship it but it’s not cursed enough so sorry boys ;(

And now the crossovers. Just as you think this post couldn’t get worse. I’ve seen people ship Rais/Waltz sign me up what’s better than one mentally ill antagonist how about two. I don’t care their relationship might cause countless casualties let’s see those fuckers gooo. Speaking of which since we’ve already established the epitome of cursed ships let’s end with something wholesome. How about Crane/Hakon? I mean two dilf babygirl manwhores (okay maybe not Crane) what’s better. The babygirl power between these two are so raw it cancels the previous bastards’ energy out.

Anyways thank you for coming to my tedtalk I hope this post is cursed enough to make ppl uncomfy <3. Have fun reading and suffering!

[nikethestatue]

Greetings,

I’m a baby elriel. I’ve like never really “shipped” any characters before in my life — and after the last few weeks of looking at the historical/ongoing ship war clusterfuck that is the ACOTAR fandom I don’t think I’m ever going to set sail again anywhere. You and all the other elriels who have been in the trenches from the get go have my respect 🫡 Anyways, your blog is super swaggy and you’re like the chillest elriel I’ve seen, so it is to your inbox that I shall share my testimony, my come to Mother moment if you will.

I didn’t really start giving any serious thought to the two them being a legit thing until I was already done with ACOSF. And it’s wild because it was the “‘I don’t see you spouting poetry, brother.’ ‘I don’t need to resort to it.’” bit in ACOWAR between Cassian and Azriel that triggered me to reevaluate.

When I first read that part I was like damn okay I see you Rizzriel, and I just kept on thinking about it and coming back to it cause it was so funny and entertaining but one day I was like yo hold up, don’t need to resort to it?? Okay, Mr. “Born Hearing the Song of the Wind.” Okay, Mr. waxing poetic about “The Naphelle Philosophy.” Like don’t get me wrong, it is definitely, first and foremost, a subtle flex for his third unspoken title; he is Azriel — shadowsinger, spymaster, and rizz master of the Night Court. However, I am a firm believer that he doesn’t need to resort to poetic words as some sort of attempt at flattery or being charming because the right situation/person naturally draws out that part of him.

✨Walk with me✨

When Elain and Azriel first meet in ACOMAF, even though there’s not a whole lot of interaction between them, it’s definitely a case of two people having a connection simply off vibes alone (yay for those of us who don’t have loud personalities). He puts her at ease with a smile and by acknowledging her fears and apprehension about their presence, about how much of a mindfuck it was for her to be dining in her home with those she was raised to believe were horrific creatures that would kill her if given the chance.

So like because of this, I think Elain is driven by a deeper curiosity that came from her unexpected comfort when she asks “Can you truly fly?” cause ngl asking the dude with massive wings if he can fly is certainly a choice 🧍🏽‍♀️ Like, there’s more to it than that, more than just attempting to transition from a tense situation into conversational small talk which could’ve been done just as easily with the likes of “Tell me about yourself” or a more confrontational “So what are you?” — which is essentially what Nesta asked immediately after 💀

Elain doesn’t know anything about these guys, but she sees Feyre trusts them, and Azriel’s small expressions of gentleness towards her amidst the escalating interactions made her willing to attempt connecting with him further. So I think her asking a ridiculously simple question with an obvious answer was her way of softly inviting him to share something about himself — not necessarily through what he responds with but rather how he responds — because something, if anything, unique to his answer beyond a simple yes or no would offer her a glimpse at him. And what does he do? Stone-faced, cold ass — doesn’t open his mouth except to give the shortest answers possible or to make some sharp sassy retort — Azriel spouts poetry for her about his and Cassian’s heritage.

So after my revelation slapped me in the face and then bonked me over the head for good measure, I went back and sought out all their interactions and was like dang bro became horrendously down bad for her in the most quietly romantic way possible and she’s feelin something too I can’t believe I didn’t pay attention to this before. I love love love that they just seem to be at ease in each other’s presence, that the vibes between them are so immaculate they don’t even need to bother with many words. Existing in comfortable silence with someone is like my favorite way to spend time in relationships whether it’s familial, platonic, or romantic so it makes me feel all fuzzy that we see them like that quite often.

So now I’m here and am looking forward to eventually reading about them and discovering more about Elain’s gifts because the whole creation story with the Mother + the Cauldron always gave me Gaia-type vibes and with Elain being invested in gardening and then being made a Seer by the cauldron because it thought she was so lovely I’m like Elain Archeron — the absolute goddess that you are, light and life flowing through your Made veins — we haven’t even seen all you can do yet and you’ve got this angelic fae male of death and darkness ready to worship you on his knees and I’ma be right there with him yes ma’am 🛐

WOW baby Elriel. You smote me with this beautiful post.

(first of all, you should write fanfiction. You reminded me of the greatest Elriel (or otherwise) writer that ever graced this hot mess of a fandom with their presence)

But I can't agree more. I think SJM actually pays attention to them, as a couple. Not something she does with many others. That relationship just flows so beautifully in the background, calm and poetic, even with the language she uses around them. There is so much imagery of death and life and decay and rebirth and beauty and flowers and blades and warmth and baking and loneliness and despair and searching for love and for home.

I don't know what she'll do with them, but it could be her Magnum Opus if she is careful, thoughtful and steady in crafting their story. What she already put down deserves special treatment when the story actually comes to pass.

Also, welcome to the fandom.

[ssaalexblake]

Under the Cloak of War has awakened a fascination in me over how Pike’s naivety and idealism was the result of a deliberate decision on the command of starfleet. Admiral Cornwell tells us so in Discovery. They kept him away from this horror on purpose, because he IS starfleet and they did not want to lose that. 

Somebody in the leadership of starfleet knew that when this war ended, they’d Need somebody in a position of influence who was in no way affected by it and could do the hard things that somebody who had been in the thick of it could not (and they were serious about that not being the job of who was involved. We’re given three characters who were involved in the war and All of them find this hellish, triggering and infuriating, and they are never asked to see the light by the narrative. There is no this side/that side about it for them. They are allowed and supported in their reactions in that they are not censured for it). 

Starfleet command knew what it would do to most of their officers and deliberately engineered a situation for somebody to do the hard jobs afterwards. Those people are Pike, and Una, and Spock, and Most of the people stationed on the enterprise.  

I don’t really know where i’m going with this, but it is gripping me. The inherent knowledge of the brass that the idealism of starfleet cannot survive in the conditions of the war, and possible a tacit acknowledgement that maybe starfleet principles Are a little naive but that they like them that way, thank you very much. 

And it’s even more fascinating that after this whole clusterfuck, Pike suddenly realises that he has been naive all this time. He didn’t know. Una knew, she was running damage control the whole episode because of his naivety even if she was very subtle and respectful about it. Pike wasn’t really confronted with just How badly this had affected everybody until his conversation with M’Benga at the end. And it speaks to the respect they have for each other they they understand why they differ in perspective and can be opposite in this without it being an issue considering how much of a contentious subject it is. 

I do genuinely think this is fascinating. Because starfleet are right, they needed somebody like Pike and he had to, realistically, be the one to do jobs like this in the hard days after the war. But deliberately keeping him naive caused him to seriously misjudge not only his own officers who had been involved, but Also Dak’Rah and it led to serious Serious consequences and one more casualty of said war he missed. 

There was no winning for anybody in this situation. I think this episode was Pike realising that. 

[merwynsartblog]

HI HELLO!! WELCOME TO THE CLUSTERFUCK OF MY ACC!!/silly

My name is Merwyn, and I go by any pronouns! (Bigender)

If you are a person who kins then hi! Im kevin from spooky month, Kirby, Garcello from fnf, Luigi from super mario, And Zuke from nsr!

Im a 18 year old artist who is just trying to do his own things! I usually listen to other rambles or doodle and draw!

Just please know im a shyish individual!! I don't like too much conflict!! But that being said i will be aggressive if you are a ass to me or not reasonable. Treat others like how you wanna be treated.

ALSO Sorta lose age limit. 14+. I will bump it up when im older but i post gore, body horror, suggestive stuff, and nonsexual nudity here!! Be careful

Basic dni i feel like people should know wtf the basic dni is + No zionist in this damn blog. We support Palestinian here + if you support the your boyfriend game (the one w/ peter) + support vizipop/likes them or supports hazbin hotel/ helluva boss. (if your one of those fans who knows the flaws and stuff idm it then)

I dont want you anywhere near me.

Also im a system!! They might post sometimes but not alot!

ANYWAYS i own a few blogs!! Check em out if you want!

- @candymaildelivery (serious rp blog. Not a askblog or a casual rp blog.)

- @wornoutworkersaskblog My oc marco x wagegang rp/askblog!!

AND!! I HAVE TAGS!!

#Merwyn art (My art!!)

#Merwyn rambles (me rambling about ocs)

#Merwyn posts (Random posts)

#Merwyn reblogs (reblogs)

#Merwyn polls (my polls!)

#The silly rambles (Friends rambling to me! it happens alot so if u dont wanna be spammed you might wanna not follow)

#Merwyn answers (Random small questions i get sometimes)

Credit for the user boxes

ANYWAYS UH.. thank yall for reading!!

Edit! I will be adding gofundmes and stuff for Palestine families and stuff like that!

Under readmore is a list of palastine stuff! Please donate if you can! 🍉🇵🇸

(VV i cant link anymore so we gotta work with what we got)

Gofundme 1

gofundme 2

gofundme 3

gofundme 4

[mikhailwrites]

Let me indulge you / Ghost x Soap

Kinktober #9 - Stripping

Soap plops down on the bed unceremoniously. It’s Ghost’s bed, and he’s still in his full tactical gear and dirty. Ghost stares at him hard. “You can’t be serious,” his voice is low and dangerous as he reaches for the straps and clasps of his own vest.

“Stop,” Soap says, and it sounds suspiciously close to a command. “Do it slowly.”

“What?” Ghost’s hands still, eyes darting to Soap, as he is sprawled on the bed, intense blue eyes trained on his Lieutenant, and his right hand slowly creeping across his own tac-vest and lower still. Is he...?

Ghost chuckles, his mood brightening a fraction. The mission has been a proper clusterfuck, Ghost is more than little sour about it, but Johnny’s playful smirk and the unabashed horniness might cheer him up some. Maybe something as ridiculous as an attempt to somehow sensually remove his gear is exactly what he needs.

Ghost is very methodical, removing items in order of the level of lethality. Grenades go first. Ghost tries to make a show of it, no matter how embarrassed he feels—sliding his fingers on the hem of the pouch, teasing it, making sure to brush the safety pin. Putting the grenades away, Ghost takes out the magazines, one by one, setting them aside. Knives are next. Ghost flicks a few of them between his fingers, knowing full well that Soap would appreciate it. The thigh holster follows, and Ghost, just for the kicks of it, draws up a chair and puts his feet on it as if he were to roll down fucking stockings. Bloody hell, if someone saw him like that… well, someone other than Soap. The Sergeant’s mouth forms a wolfish grin, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips.

Ghost pretends not to notice the unbridled hunger in Johnny’s gaze as he proceeds to remove the holster and place it on the desk. With the dangerous gear out of the way, Ghost flicks the light off. Before Soap manages to ask, Ghost cracks several chemlights. Throwing a few on the bed, where they land both next to Soap and on him, and dropping the rest of the bundle on the floor beneath his feet, he creates a semblance of mood lighting. The orange glow is easy on the eyes, and Ghost hopes that maybe it will make him easier on the eyes as well.

The crack of Velcro being undone and snaps of the clasps fill the silent room. Ghost sighs as he, finally, removes the vest. He’s used to its weight, yet it’s still a relief to take it off. By this point, he stops with the charade. He’s way too strung up to play coy or, even worse, sexy. The jacket is unzipped, the t-shirt taken off, the belt undone, and the trousers unbuttoned in a matter of tens of seconds and before a minute passes, he’s walking over to the bed.

The frame creaks under both of their weights, and Ghost crawls on top of Soap, who looks very unfocused, caught off guard with a hand down his own trousers.

“Simon,” he breathes out, feasting his eyes on every inch of revealed skin. The chemlight casts harsh shadows over them, there’s really not much to see, but he tries anyway. And not just with eyes alone. A second later, there are hands on Simon. Hot, calloused and strong, grabbing him to pull him down. Ghost is rudely reminded of the fact that Soap didn’t bother to undress by a hard edge of the magazine prodding him under the ribs.

“You’re overdressed.”

“Mmm, what’re ye gonna do aboot it?” Ghost can hear the challenge in Johnny’s voice.

“I’m throwing you off my bed and not letting you back in until you’re naked and had a shower. You fucking reek, Soap,” Ghost growls and proceeds to do just that. Johnny yelps as Ghost sits back on his heels, grabbing the Sergeant by the straps of his vest and shoving him off the bed. Soap lands on the hard floor with a thud and some colourful Scottish curse.

“What the fuck, Ghost?” Soap whines as he gets his legs under him. He sounds really disappointed, maybe a bit hurt, too.

“You want finer things, Johnny? Gotta work for them.”

[tiktaalic]

I feel a lot of the times that I’m just straight up missing an internal barometer. Like if I’m asked to judge if something is an underreaction appropriate reaction or overreaction I don’t think I’d get it right even 30% of the time. How steep are your peaks and valleys. Normal amount? Surely? This is about how I have zero gauge on how serious problems are I treat almost everything with the same middling severity which often results in things I thought were no big deal being Problems people thank me for noticing and bringing to attention or turn into a clusterfuck if I ignore them bc I thought they were ignorable grow around them problems. Also results in flagging normal circumstances as problems where everyone goes no that’s like. Really normal you literally made this problem up in your head

[dailyadventureprompts]

More idle curiosity than a serious question but- do you have other systems that you’re interested in? Most of your articles feels very DnD-ish, if that makes any sense.

To be honest, I'm not really sure?

I've been chasing the ideal d&d campaign since I was 12, when I lost my first chance to play, and ever since then the game has had a dedicated place in my mind.

In many ways, 5e is my perfect game system: A simple but robust mechanical chassis that you can slot new rules modules into like expansion packs, edit when needed, and supplement with a near infinite amount of community created material when you want a new monster/class option/item (which I ALWAYS do).  D&D’s heroic tone is likewise paired with the stories I want to tell, of flawed but good characters taking on the problems of the world and making a brighter future as they grow into a found family. It's also the easiest version of d&d for new people to pick up and get invested in, which is a godsend when you're a weirdo like me who gets to know people best/show off my best self when you're together around a gaming table.

That said, there’s a couple systems that I’ve seen here and there over the years that I’ve been interested in trying out:

Powered by the Apocalypse: If I had to pick up a new game system, it’d probably be this one. I was intrigued by TaZ’s dip into it in their second season, and I liked how modular it sounded, but given the game’s focus on player motivated action, I’m worried I’d be deeply out of my comfort zone. That said, if someone offered me a spot in a short campaign, I’d be hardpressed to say no

Lancer: I know next to nothing about this system other than it’s surrealist post apocalyptic mecha which is a combination I’m INTO.  I’m also a tremendous fan of the creator’s webcomic Kill Six Billion Demons, which you should be too. No Seriously, Read it.

SW5e: I know it’s technically cheating to have a 5e derived system on this list but deep diving into this fan hack and watching all the fun the Dimension20 cast had with it during their Starstruck campaign made me REALLY want to do a starwars game.

Blades in the Dark: I’ve got numerous campaigns in my backlog entirely based around heisting, which I suppose could be ported to blades well enough. 

This recent clusterfuck with the OGL has me in a bit of a state, I have to admit. D&D has always been my happy place, and the part of me that wanted to be a great DM was one of the core pillars that the rest of me solidified around. This era of the game ending feels personal, and considering other systems at this time feels a bit..... existential?

[starryoak]

Genuinely though, I just. Really loved what we saw of Ben Reilly in Across The Spiderverse. Like, yes, he’s a joke about the old 90′s comics. But like. I love him for that because it’s a genuinely funny joke, lmao.

Plus, Noir as he appeared in Into The Spiderverse was very much an affectionate parody of the film noir genre more than an accurate adaption of his comics counterpart… and people love him anyway. People loved Noir! People still love Noir! Despite, or in fact, even because he was a parody; people went and read the comics! Developed a genuine love for the original, because of the parody!

I’m fairly confident, if Ben remains the comedic foil to Jessica and Miguel’s more serious natures as antagonists in Beyond the Spiderverse, people will do the same for Ben.  He was fun! There’s nothing wrong with poking fun at the Clone Saga! It was a clusterfuck! It was angsty and weird! Ben was angsty and weird! It’s frankly only recognizable as a parody because of the clash with the tones of modern writing, rather than inaccuracy to his writing in the 90′s!

I think there’s genuine potential in his portrayal! He was fun!!! He calls Miguel ‘Dad’! Yeah it was sarcastic, but even right there that’s potential! What’s up with that! Do some kind of Brooklyn 99 shit with that! It’d be fun!

[charmfamily]

I got tagged by @smok3inm1rrors, my favorite fellow Charm Family obsesser, who asked me to pick a Charm for another round of The Bold The Facts! For this next round, I’m tagging @theosconfessions, @nectar-cellar, @smok3inm1rrors again to do a Charm of their choice, @plumbboo, and @d4isywhims! 

𝔾𝔼𝕋 𝕋𝕆 𝕂ℕ𝕆𝕎 𝕄𝔼: 𝔻𝔸𝕄𝕀𝔼ℕ ℂℍ𝔸ℝ𝕄

[ PERSONAL ]

$ Financial: wealthy (Because he comes from a wealthy family, he has yet to acquire his own wealth but trust fund babies aren’t usually concerned with that. It’s Damien. Damien is Trust Fund Babies.) / moderate / poor / in poverty

✚ Medical: fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged / non applicable

✪ Class or Caste: upper / middle / working / unsure / other

✔ Education: qualified / unqualified / studying (Damien is a Caster of the Untamed School and is studying, believe it or not, Theoretical Magic with a specialty in Curse Breaking. He’s really good at it, too.) / other

✖ Criminal Record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no / has committed crimes, but not caught yet (nothing serious, just a little or maybe a lot of possessing alcohol underage at parties, trespassing, and maybe a few cases of destruction of private/public property.) / yes, but charges were dismissed

[ FAMILY ]

◒ Children: had a child or children / has no children / wants children? (He thinks he does. He’s still not 100% sure and he definitely doesn’t want them right this minute, but someday.)

◑ Relationship with Family: close with sibling(s) (He’s spent the entirety of his life pretending Gemma doesn’t exist or outright tormenting her, but he’s doing his best to make up for that lately and he hopes it’s not too late. He really does want to be a better brother than he was in the past. Fun fact regarding HOW Damien was a terrible brother: Little Damien used to lure Toddler Gemma outside under the guise of being the bestest big brother ever and taking her to a super cool Big Kid Hangout, but then he’d lock her in the dark crawlspace under the house and leave her there. This is what Rohan meant when he said he’d been running to Gemma’s rescue since they were four, Damien would take off with his friends or on his bike, leave Gemma in the crawlspace, and Rohan was the one that always let her out. Damien also, once he learned about Gemma’s phobia of dark bathrooms because she was scared of what she’d see in the mirror, would lock her in there and had to stop doing that when she hyperventilated once and passed out. The thudding of her hitting the tile ended up alerting their parents and yes, he got in BIG trouble. She’s claustrophobic now, because of Damien’s antics.) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / sibling(s) is deceased

◔ Affiliation: orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parent / not applicable  

[ TRAITS + TENDENCIES ]

♦ extroverted / introverted / in between 

♦ disorganized / organized / in between (He’s organized with the things he cares about, everything else is a giant mess.) 

♦ close minded / open-minded / in between (Hard to convince but not entirely unreasonable.)

♦ calm / anxious / in between (It varies from day to day and depends entirely on the specifics of what latest clusterfuck he’s gotten himself into.) ♦ disagreeable / agreeable / in between 

♦ cautious / reckless / in between 

♦ patient / impatient / in between 

♦ outspoken / reserved / in between 

♦ leader (“What if all your friends jumped off a bridge?” Damien would be that friend, the first one out there and calling everyone else a bitch for not doing it.) / follower / in between 

♦ empathetic / vicious bastard / in between (More often than not empathetic, until you piss him off and the Vicious Bastard side of him is unleashed. He has some pretty deep-seated anger issues that are always simmering just beneath the surface.)

♦ optimistic / pessimistic / in between 

♦ traditional / modern / in between

♦ hard-working (when he REALLY wants something) / lazy / in between (the rest of the time.)

♦ cultured (Raised by archaeologists, that tends to happen.)  / uncultured / in between / unknown 

♦ loyal / disloyal / unknown Loyal to himself first and others that prove that they’re loyal to him. It certainly isn’t given blindly and freely, nor is it a blanket trait – that’s a case by case basis.

♦ faithful (He’d leave before he’d cheat. He doesn’t see the point in sparing someone’s feelings long enough TO cheat. If he’s done, he’s done… which is kind of Vicious Bastard of him. “I don’t even care enough about you to lie to you.”)  / unfaithful / unknown

[ BELIEFS ]

★ Faith: monotheist / polytheist. I mentioned in the Erwin post that all spellcasters in the SCKoL Universe worship the Trinity of the Fates and are culturally pagans, but specifically to Damien’s family, because Minerva’s family comes from Tartosa (which I have built in universe as a fictional Mediterranean nation that’s more Greek than it is Italian), he is a patron of the Greek Pantheon. BIG FAN of Dionysus in particular. Chaos for the Chaos god! / atheist / agnostic 

☆ Belief in Ghosts or Spirits: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care 

✮ Belief in an Afterlife: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care 

✯ Belief in Reincarnation: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care 

❃ Belief in Aliens: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care 

✧ Religious: orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious 

❀ Philosophical: yes / no / sometimes (Especially when he’s been drinking, he gets deep in Sad Boi Hours and has to contemplate the meaning of his existence. Luckily, his bestie Akira can only stand so much of that, so it’s more of an interlude than it is the entirety of the night.) 

[ SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION ]

❤ Sexuality: heterosexual flexible. (He wouldn’t quite say he’s bi because he’s in denial about it lol listen if you’re drunk and you happen to kiss the bros, it’s just kissing the bros.) / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual

❥ Sex: sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favorable / naive and clueless 

♥ Romance: romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable (Wants to be loved) /naive and clueless (doesn't know how to be loved.) / romance suspicious (He has a very hard time letting other people in and allowing them to get close to him on a deep level, like being vulnerable scares the hell out of him and it’s a problem.) 

❣ Sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious 

⚧ Potential Sexual Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all 

⚧ Potential Romantic Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all

[ ABILITIES ]

☠ Combat Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor/ none

 ≡ Literacy Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none 

✍ Artistic Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none 

✂ Technical Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

[ HABITS ]

☕ Drinking Alcohol: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / Alcoholic 

☁ Smoking: tried it / trying to quit / quit / never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / Chain-smoker 

✿ Recreational Drugs: never (He much prefers drinking) / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / addict

 ✌ Medicinal Drugs: never / no longer needs medication / some medication needed / frequently / to excess 

☻ Unhealthy Food: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / binge eater 

$ Splurge Spending: never / sometimes / frequently / shopaholic 

♣ Gambling: never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / compulsive gambler

[laceyeb]

It’s been an absolute clusterfuck of a week at work for very serious can’t-legally-be-talked-about kinds of reasons. (Everyone is safe and no one has been physically harmed.) Everything has been kind of terrible, but we’ve really come together as a staff to take care of each other and that has been very comforting. We had a staff meeting this afternoon to debrief the situation that was dealt with today and our superintendent was there as well. Tomorrow is our minimum day and the students leave at 1:00, but our duty day ends at 3:15. At our meeting, our principal looked at the superintendent and said, “I’m going to say this right in front of you.” Then turned to all of us and said, “As soon as the students leave tomorrow, please go home and rest.”

We have a shared google doc where all our staff put their favorite food, favorite candy, etc. I went out after work today and picked up our principal’s favorite candy so I can sneak it into the office for him tomorrow. It’s not much, but I hope he knows how lucky we are to have him.

[demcnsinmymind]

I like how with most other horror movies, canon tries to stick to the general serious and fucked up vibes, so horror muses/blogs try to stick to the same vibes most of the time. And a lot of times, I fear that I’m breaking the vibes on my own blog too much whenever I post something funny / meme-y / ridiculous about Lance / with him in mind, especially since a lot of my threads are pretty serious, negative and heavy.

But then I remember actual canon which is just as much of a clusterfuck of the very same thing : funny, dumb and meme-y shit like this

and the next thing you know it does a full 180 and it’s basically proper messed up horror shit

[oopsabird]

One of the other boats I’m paying attention to that’s stuck in the Suez debacle and has decided to wait it out is THIS one:

I know, I know, I can hear you saying “What the fuck, Liv. That’s not a ship, that’s an attachment for my vacuum cleaner that lets me suck up dirt out of hard-to-reach crevices.”

Nah man, hear me out! It’s a boat I promise!

This is the FJORD FSTR, and it is currently anchored amidst the ships nearest the canal entrance in the Red Sea, waiting for the clusterfuck to unfuck itself:

Now, much like you probably do, when I first happened to click upon the VesselFinder profile of this vessel and saw that photo, I had some serious questions. Namely, uh:

what is that for, and uh,

why does it look like no boat in the history of boats has ever looked before?

it says it’s a passenger ship and it looks HUGE, are there hundreds of disgruntled passengers stuck on there???

Scrolling through the specs on FJORD FSTR’s profile for the beginnings of answers, one SUPER interesting thing immediately jumped out at me:

WELL. Now that deserves some googling.

(Aside: hehe, “year of built”)

Anyway. Google was super helpful and immediately eager to fill me in about this ship, and inform me that she is:

a fancy-ass catamaran-style car and passenger ferry,

destined to operate across the strait between Denmark and Norway (“between Kristiansand and Hirtshals”, to be specific),

equipped to hold 1200 passengers and MANY cars,

capable of a top speed of 70km/h (!!!)

totally brand spanking new.

How new?

I’ll take “the company that ordered her literally only took possession from the shipyard on February 26th” for five hundred Alex!

Turns out there ARE no passengers on this ferry yet, because it hasn’t even reached its actual operating location yet!

After being launched at the shipyard in the Philippines last month, it has been picked up by employees of the operating company (Fjord Line) who have been taking it home from the store the only way you can, with a 109m long massive floating lego block: by driving it there, empty and shiny and with the dust covers probably still on the instrument dials, in what was expected to be about a 4 week trip with an April 1st arrival.

Now, obviously from the Philippines to Denmark is a looooooong trip. It’s been a long trip so far just to get to the Suez Canal, an approximate route shown here in blue, and I’m sure both the crew and the ferry company paying by the hour for them to sail the shiny new toy home would much prefer that the rest of the trip be the much shorter Mediterranean route in pink, rather than going the looong way around Africa. But boy oh boy is there something funny about them going so far, after nearly a month at sea, only to end up stuck in traffic just a week or so of sailing away:

(I have no idea if they would or wouldn’t cut through the English Channel, but I didn’t feel like trying to draw it while not putting a line through Kent or whatever)

No wonder they’re willing to wait around in line and gamble that the canal will be cleared sooner rather than later! Especially when you consider that they already sold off the ferry it’s supposed to be replacing lol.

But wait, there’s more!

I may have lied, a little bit, earlier, when I said that there were no passengers on the FJORD FSTR during this delivery voyage. That is, strictly speaking, only half true.

While nobody has paid to take part in this voyage so far, there are some additional folks onboard who are not crew, but are being paid to be there:

Oh yeah, you read that right.

In addition to the 11 Fjord Line crew members operating the ship, for their passage through the particular bunch of waters they have currently been (unexpectedly) spending a week sat in, FJORD FSTR has embarked an unspecified number of persons who make up a “specially trained safety team”.

All this in the interest of deterring any potential pirates who (in the minds of these Danes) might look at this gargantuan floating slide whistle and start rubbing their hands together eagerly — or whatever paranoid Scandinavian ferry owners imagine tempted pirates might do. (Why desperate people like the Somali pirates would go after the big red empty Borg Cube when there are literal dozens of loaded-full cargo ships anchored as far as the eye can see nearby, is beyond me, but who am I to question rich Scandinavians lmao.)

So like, next time you’re having a weird week, try asking yourself:

“But am I having a weirder week than 11 sailors trapped indefinitely on a massive empty ocean-going luxury vape pen, with a team of hired guards, in the middle of the Red Sea during a crisis, hoping desperately against all clues to the contrary that they’re not about to live out the catalyzing incident of a Bond film?”

Odds are, probably not.

[bunnidid-reviews]

Possible accessible OSDDID App Review

Simply Plural !

Facts:

What type of app it is: An app for tracking what parts/alters are fronting

Compatibility: Seems to be available for apple and android products, as well as browser support

Size: 66.5 MB

Internet required: Yes

Does it share my data?: You’re able to share your information with friends. Most things are set to be private initially

Lockable: You can log off as needed

Light and dark mode are available in-app as well as syncing with your device’s settings. There’s also a more accessible font option, which I thought was a nice touch.

~

Personal thoughts:

Personal difficulty using(0 being the most easy, 10 being impossible): 9

How easy to add your parts: 2

How easy to switch between parts: 7-8?? It took me a long time to figure out how to even do this, but once you figure out how its maybe a 5

Personal avoidance level: 10, no parts wanted to use this app

Safe to say, I’m perplexed by this app. Let me show you some screenshots

We start with this clusterfuck of options. As someone who’s dissociating and dyslexic all these different directions that hold the exact same weight as eachother are really confusing! A young or badly confused part might think User Report is the same thing as making a note of who’s out right now

Maybe this is helpful to someone, but to me, it looked like way too much even on a present day

This is the ‘Members’ list. Where all the parts are listed. There are a lot of symbols here that aren’t listed in any of the help sections that I’ve had to clumsily figure out by trial and error. Like apparently the arrows next to the names are.. Making a note of who’s here in the moment? I had no idea until just now.

Also they’re sorted alphabetically. Never in the history of Ever have I sorted my parts this way?? Sorry, this is the stuff I’m really specific about. 

Evidently the bottom buttons are how to view who’s fronting at the moment. I can’t figure out what ‘custom front’ is for

Here’s what a part looks like when you open them up from the list. You have a lottttt of info you can go through and add using the icons at the top. I like that it has this many options for people who are probably a lot more serious for the use of the app. 

When I first used it some years ago, I had no idea the Visibility was an option, so you might want to make sure it’s set to what you need it to be to feel secure (Private, shown to trusted friends, or shown to all friends)

Here’s the side bar, with lots and lots of options again, but at least these are a little more sorted and I would’ve preferred this for the main page.

Now, let’s look at Add Front Entry...

Okay, so there’s a detailed front entry and a quick front entry option. The detailed front entry looks like this:

....

My dear OSDDID friends, I ask you, Do you know how long the part previous to yourself started fronting, from the date, the hour, the minute?? and when they stopped???????? Not even you, the previous parts who were here.

I think the quick entry would’ve been better if you could add the hours options yourself, because most everyone I know with a dissociative disorder has a very different rate of switching, and 2 hours is not enough for the people who might switch once in days or weeks. (I personally shift from one group of parts to another every few days to a week) 

At this point if you’re thinking that “She just doesn’t understand, I’ve been using this app and it just takes a learning curve to use..”, I invite you to realize that this app has no margin for error, no lenience for our I Don’t Know Myself Disorder, no room for considering dissociation and it’s varying forms and general blurriness. 

I wondered for a moment why it was like this...

Ah-ha. 

The Plural Association is organization that hopes to eliminate the difference between OSDDID and non-disordered plurality, effectively de-medicalizing a Dissociative Disorder. 

I read some of these links and quite a few of them focused on the ‘beautiful mind of having plurality’ rather than the dark reality of where a dissociative disorder comes from, being a trauma disorder. Downplaying DID as ‘Not Getting Along With Your Headmates’ disorder. There was just enough reasonable and flowery language for them to sprinkle blatant misinformation throughout, tricking you into believing things that may be harmful if you actually have a Disorder that needs treatment. 

I have no doubt that people with non-disordered plurality are experiencing something. I can’t claim to know enough about someone’s mind to say otherwise, of course. I think saying Endogenics don’t exist shuts down people who might actually need help. 

However, the mixture of OSDDID and Endogenics like this is very very harmful when it comes to creating ‘accessibility’ like this. It takes away from the actual point of what would be helpful for someone with a DD, like communication between parts, the slow breakdown of dissociative barriers, and for many, the lesser separation between parts and goals towards coming together.

The Plural Association wants you to be separate, but also know all parts, which can be incredibly dangerous to venture into yourself if you have a lot of trauma(and therefore parts) you don’t know.  Integration, Fusion, and taking it slowly and at the pace recommended by a professional, are really wonderful and personal parts of healing and shouldn’t be snubbed out by the pressure to be As Plural As Possible. Exactly like this app does

Final thoughts:

This app is needlessly complicated. I mean, maybe it can be really helpful if you go through and learn everything about it. I’ve only been picking at it for a week and barely scratched the surface. I feel like it must be like an art program, it takes you a lot of hard work and practice to settle into using it.

The premise is not at all for me. Not in all my years of knowing and figuring out my DID have I ever found it useful to *just* have a record of who switched when. Sure, it can be enlightening. But I’d find a lot more use in a text app where my Personas can make note of what’s going on in the moment, how they’re feeling, why they’re there. 

Simply Plural is not at ALL simple or accessible to the common dissociated user.(me) Many times I peeked at it, I got confused easily and lost. It feels like a winding house where one room leads to the next and the next without hallways. 

It’s a lot especially for people who have less distinct parts too. or many of them! they’d all be placed in the same alphabetical order without any distinction between distinct and nondistinctive parts, or subsystems. 

I’m extremely uncomfortable that you could technically find people on here, and find their information if they didn’t have the right privacy settings on. I didn’t feel completely safe putting all my parts on here, capping it at the main 16. Even more so, there’s the ability to give someone a ‘token’, which is customizable access to your information, including being able to write and add things, as well as delete them. I could easily see an abuser use this for the worst. What in the world?!?!?

I try to keep my reviews light and positive because I believe there’s merit in any DID media to various ranges of accessibility for people. But this one I just cannot recommend. I hope you understand my points as to why

If this app works for you, dissociation and all, then I’m really glad for you! If you’re endogenic and don’t have dissociative issues, maybe it’s more suited to whatever it is you...do with your parts? ? (I don’t know enough, sorry)

Would I recommend this app to someone with OSDDID? Nope.

[something-tofightfor]

Locked Down Part 1: The Room

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Word Count: 4,982

Rating: None necessary? Mentions of the pandemic’s early days, quarantining, talk of COVID symptoms and after effects, etc. 

Summary: After contracting COVID at the end of a work assignment overseas and doing your required quarantine, you’re finally ready to fly home. There’s only one problem: 

The estate you were staying in has been locked down due to a major film production, and no one is supposed to leave - or, in the case of you needing a ride to the airport - come onto the property. 

With a little help from your boss and a favor from the head of the studio making the movie, an unfortunate mistake turns into the work opportunity of a lifetime ... and may even have a few bonus perks, too. 

Author’s note:

I don’t even know what this is, but here we are. I’m a sucker for a cocky man with fluffy hair and a gold hoop ... aren’t you? My take on Dieter is a little different from a lot of the ones others have, but I still hope you enjoy him. 

This is eventually gonna get smutty, but we’ve gotta work for it, friends... quarantining is serious business and Dieter is very nervous about his health. 

Thank you for reading; feedback is much appreciated on this one! Tag list to follow. 

You were bored out of your mind, and had been for over a week. 

It was to be expected - you’d been in a “two week” quarantine for nearly a month thanks to the fact that just before your first seclusion period ended after potential contact with an infected person, you’d tested positive for COVID, too. 

The whole thing was a clusterfuck, but at least your boss had been able to make a deal with the hotel you’d been put up in before getting sick, working out your ability to ride out both isolation periods there instead of having to travel somewhere else to stay. It was a nice place, too - large, lush green grounds, an old, beautifully constructed residence that had been converted into a hotel in the middle of the English countryside - but you’d been there for two months straight, and you were ready to leave. 

You knew that you were lucky, that actually being able to work safely during a pandemic was a luxury that few people were offered, and so you’d jumped at the opportunity to head overseas and film a segment on the property and surrounding area. It was relatively secluded, with low transmission numbers both on the property and in nearby villages, and you’d managed to get nearly all of your work done before coming into contact with whoever had gotten you sick - which you were thankful for. 

Your case had been mild - loss of taste and smell, an insane level of fatigue along with some coughing spells - and so you’d used the time to edit and organize the footage you’d collected and begin writing your feature, but when you’d finished that, you’d turned to any other form of entertainment you could find to stave off the last few days of boredom. 

Netflix was your constant companion, and the steady stream of books stacked in front of your door by a helpful bellhop helped, too, but the only in person conversations you’d had for weeks had been from your balcony to the people on the ground below, and you were halfway convinced that you’d be relegated to interactions like that for the rest of your life. Even though I know I won’t be. If you never heard another Zoom alert or got another request for a FaceTime call, it would be too soon, but as you paced around your room on the second to last night of your quarantine, you realized that even after going home, it would be more of the same. 

Your boss had already told you they weren’t sending you out on another assignment right away, that they were going to give you some time to adjust to being back home. Even though you’d already gotten the virus, none of your immediate family had, which meant that once you were back in your apartment, you’d be by yourself - again. “Shit.” Stopping in your tracks, you covered your face with both hands, trying to calm your racing heart. 

You liked being alone, liked having time to yourself - it was why your job was perfect for you, but even you had limits, and you were rapidly approaching them. Before you could continue to spiral, though, you heard your phone buzz with an email alert and quickly turned to check it. 

Your first test was scheduled for 10 am the following morning, and if that one came back negative, you’d have one the following morning, too. From there, you’d be free to leave the hotel, catching a ride to the nearest city and airport and finally going home. 

But you hadn’t booked a flight yet, and didn’t want to jinx yourself by doing it early. Instead, you confirmed the appointment, tossing your phone back onto the bed and then flopping down next to it, eyes on the high ceiling. I’ll figure it out. Head turning to the side, you sighed as you stared out the large French doors and at the night sky. I always do. 

— 

But there was no ‘figuring out’ the situation you found yourself in two days later as you stood at the concierge desk, the young blonde woman on the other side of it doing the bare minimum to keep you calm. “I’m sorry, we don’t have a record of you still being here, I closed out your file myself. I don’t know what -” 

“Someone’s been bringing me meals for weeks. I’ve had six COVID tests done by the staff here, and someone’s been coming to bring me towels and toiletries every couple of days, so how can…” You trailed off, the heel of your hand digging against your forehead. “I never even paid the bill for my actual stay, so how did -” “I think I know the answer to that.” The blonde’s coworker stepped next to her, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Your initial stay was paid for by your company. The last two weeks have been a medical stay, so technically you’re not in the system, even though you’ve been here.” You sighed, closing your eyes. “And unfortunately, we’re on a building-wide lockdown as of right now because of the cast and crew arrival for a movie that’s going to film here, so -” “A what?” You dropped your hand against the top of the counter. “A lockdown? I’ve been locked down, I’m supposed to go to the city and then fl-” “That isn’t possible.” The blonde spoke again, her tone flat. “No one is leaving, not while the movie people are -” “You can’t keep me here.” You felt the panic rising in your chest, the elation of speaking to people face to face almost completely gone. “I’m not a prisoner, I -” “No, you aren’t, but we don’t have extra vehicles at the moment. The entirety of our fleet has been rented by the production team for the next few months, and  they’ll be using them to transport the cast and crew between here and the soundstage.” “So I’ll call a cab or an Uber, or -” “We’re not allowed to have other vehicles on the property.” The blonde was eyeing you warily, and you couldn’t blame her - even you could hear how shrill your voice had become, the panic rising again. “It’s a production hazard, and they’re counting on us t -” “I want to go home!” You yelped the words, head whipping back and forth. “I’ve wanted to go home for three weeks, and now you’re telling me that because of some stupid movie that I -” “It’s a Cliff Beasts movie.” The blonde spoke again, her eyes sparkling. “You’ve heard of it? There are a ton of -” “I don’t care if it’s a Marvel movie and you promise that Chris Hemsworth is going to stay in my room with me for a month doing whatever I ask him to, that doesn’t mean -” “Chris Hemsworth’s kind of a dick.” You froze at the sound of a new voice, turning your head to the side and looking over your shoulder to see who was speaking. “You wouldn’t want to share a room with him. I had to sit next to him at the People’s Choice Awards once and it was fucking miserable.” Who the fuck is this? The man kept his distance as he spoke - white mask covering the entire lower half of his face and a pair of sunglasses tucked into the stretched out collar of his shirt. 

“Mr. Bravo, sir.” The blonde spoke again, apparently addressing the man standing behind you, and you narrowed your eyes in confusion. Mr. Bravo? What kind of name is that? “Mr. Bravo, your assistant has already checked you in, I’ll just need you to come and get your keycard and give you the information about your isolation -” 

“I think you need to figure out what’s going on with her, first.” The man gestured to you and you watched one of his brows rise, almost disappearing into the mop of wild curls that hung over his forehead. “No hurry here.” 

“Thank you.” Giving him a smile - before you remembered  that he couldn’t see it because of the mask you wore, you turned back to the desk and the blonde, whose eyes were still focused over your shoulder. “If I can’t get to the airport, and I’m not supposed to be here because it’s a closed set, then what are my options?” You looked between her and the male concierge, deciding that he was likely a better option to for an appeal. “There’s no way I can afford to stay here for the entire shoot. Can’t I just use one of the cars in the middle of the night or something, or… or maybe walk to the end of the driveway and catch a cab from -” “It’s raining right now.” The man - Mr. Bravo - spoke up after clearing his throat. “And the driveway was really goddamn long, so that’s not -” “How about this.” The second concierge spoke up again, nudging the woman out of the way and typing on the computer. “We will take the responsibility for this, and give you another night to figure something out. Call your boss, call the airline, call whoever you need to. We’ll have to move you off of your floor though, since that whole wing is reserved for the main cast, and we -” “Wouldn’t it make more sense to just let me go back into the same room?” You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing. “Instead of cleaning a second one after I leave? It’s just one night, and -” “It’s a security concern.” The blonde’s eyes flicked between you and Bravo, her head shaking back and forth slowly. “The rooms are staggered, and if you go back, you’d be right next door to Mr. Br-” 

“It’s not a big deal.” Your shoulders slumped, the sound of his voice a relief. “It’s only one night, and it isn’t like the virus can come through the walls.” A laugh that was nearly a sob escaped your lips and you met the young woman’s eyes again, finding them filled with frustration. But why? I didn’t do anything wrong. This isn’t my fault. “And we’ve all gotta quarantine by ourselves, right? I’ll just lock the door, I think I can -” 

“We aren’t supposed to -” The blonde interrupted, but she was cut off by her partner, the man murmuring quietly into her ear. “Ok. Fine. You can go back to the same room for the night, and then let us know what you will be doing tomorrow. But please respect the film crew’s rules and do not interact with -” “Don’t worry.” You waved your hand in the air and then grabbed for the keycard you’d set down on the counter, sighing. “No one outside of my room is going to see or hear from me until tomorrow when all this shit is figured out and you’re watching me walk out that front door and straight to the airport.” Bravo snorted from behind you and you quickly looked back at him, noticing the deeply etched lines at the corners of his eyes - an indication that beneath the mask, he was smiling. “Just please don’t forget to bring me something to eat later, since I’m apparently still under room-arrest, and -” 

“We will, miss.” The male concierge ducked his head and smiled at you. “When we bring the cast and crew their meals, we’ll knock. Breakfast, too.” At least there’s that. “I’m terribly sorry about this. It never should have happened, and you have our deepest apologies.” Maybe I have yours, you thought as you thanked him and then the woman, too, her eyes still on the man in the mask behind you. But she doesn’t give a shit. 

Letting out a breath you reached for the handle of your suitcase and turned away from the counter, finally looking at Bravo head on. “Thank you. I meant it - you won’t even know I’m next door.” You paused, frowning. He looks familiar, but I don’t… “Unless you hear the TV. I got used to turning the volume up pretty loud, so if it bugs you, just bang on the wall.” 

“Will do.” He reached up, scratching the side of his head. “Good luck with your boss.” Yeah. I’ll need it. Stepping past him and making your way toward the elevator, you closed your eyes after pressing the button. 

— 

Two hours later, you were stretched out on your bed with the pillow resting over your face. You’d gotten ahold of your boss, explaining the situation, and after she’d expressed relief that you were feeling better and could come home, she pressed you for more details about the production that you’d found yourself in the middle of.

You told her what you knew - the name of the movie franchise, that there was a man named Bravo in the cast, that they’d rented out the entire estate for the duration of the shoot, and you’d practically heard the wheels turning in her head, the woman telling you to hang tight and she’d get back to you. It hadn’t filled you with confidence, but Carmen hadn’t ever steered you wrong before, so you tried not to think about it too hard, hoping that when she called back, she’d have answers. 

At the sound of a knock on the door, you pulled the pillow away from your face and sat straight up, eyes on the dark wood. Dinner. You were hungry despite still being unable to taste the things you ate, and you nearly sprinted for the door, pulling it open and bringing the tray in. It was the usual spread, and as you sat cross-legged on the bed with your plate in front of you, you kept your eyes on the TV, the volume turned lower than usual as you halfway paid attention to a movie on Netflix. 

Halfway - until you saw a familiar mop of hair on the screen and paused with your fork halfway to your mouth. No way. “That was Dieter fucking Bravo?” You thought back to the man in the lobby, and the realization made the way that the blonde acted seem much more reasonable. No, not reasonable, but … it explains it. Food forgotten, you reached for your phone and typed the man’s name into Google, laughing quietly as you realized that it had been him, and that he’d actually been gracious and friendly toward you - which was very different than the impression many people had of him. 

You considered yourself well-versed in pop culture, and had thought that you would have recognized one of the most popular actors in Hollywood if you’d run into him. But these damn masks, they make it … impossible. At the very least, it would be a really good story to tell your friends when you got home, but you had to admit that you were a little disappointed that you hadn’t outright realized it was him. Oh well. Tossing the phone down, you returned to your meal, trying to figure out if it was your imagination - or if you could actually taste the sauce on your pasta. 

Ten minutes after you finished, your phone rang, Carmen’s name popping up on the screen, and you answered quickly, moving to the balcony doors and standing in front of them with one hand on your hip. “So when can I come home?” She didn’t answer right away and you felt your stomach drop, your eyes squeezing shut. “Carmen?” 

“How would you feel about another job.” A job? What does that mean? “You’d have to stay there, but -” “Stay? Here? The woman at the front desk was practically trying to kick me out of my room today, how -” You’d moved out onto the balcony, resting your elbows on the railing and looking out into the dusky twilight. “It’s a closed set, Carmen. What would -” “I did some research, and it turns out that the studio head owes me a favor.” Hanging your head, you took a deep breath. “A couple of them, actually, for some publicity we did a couple years ago for one of her other movies, and because of these damn lockdowns, everyone’s trying to keep things small right now.” 

“Yeah, which is why I was here on my own in the first place, I -” 

“That actually works out well for you with this.” Carmen’s voice was calm, and you’d heard it before, when she was trying to explain the parameters of an assignment that she knew you weren’t 100% on board with. “I know you mostly do travel stuff - pieces on different cities and what they have to offer, but … what if I told you that I could get you hired onto the actual production as a documentarian?” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Frowning, you narrowed your eyes. “How would that benefit us at all?” 

“Because,” she continued patiently, giving you a moment. “You’d be documenting the process of making a movie during a pandemic for the franchise’s purposes and you’d be able to double dip, using your experience to write about it for us afterward. Pictures, too, in an exclusive to be released in conjunction with whatever marketing blitz they do when the movie gets released.” Standing up straighter, you considered her words. 

It wasn’t too different from what you normally did - instead of exploring towns and cultural sites, you’d be focused on the single group of people - and the sets for the movie, along with the overall environment of filming during unprecedented times. I hate that fucking phrase. “So I’d have to stay here for the entire shoot? The girl at the desk said months, and I…” Trailing off, you realized that you had no real reason to go home, except that you wanted a change of scenery. But if I’m not confined to this room, maybe it won’t be … bad. “How would it work, Carmen? Who would I report to? How would I get paid?” 

“The production would hire you and pay you throughout. If you agree to this, you’d meet with the person in charge in the next couple of days to sign contracts and paperwork and all that, find out what it all entails.” She took a breath. “And then when you write the story for us, we’d pay you your regular rate, just like usual.” So I’d get paid twice for the same job. 

“I can’t afford to stay here on my own, Carmen. I -” “Hotel’s included in the contract, since it’s a closed set and you’d be in a bubble with everyone the whole time. That was something I did ask about. Your boss there will have more details, but … it’d be interesting, and you know it. Have you looked at the cast for this movie? It’s a ton of people, and it’ll drive our engagement way up. It’s a long job, but it … it could give you some new opportunities.” 

“I like working for you.” You did - it was the truth, and you wanted the woman to know. “I like picking my own assignments and getting to travel, and I like the freedom of -” “I think you should do it.” She let out a breath and then cleared her throat. “Things are pretty shitty over here, to be honest. There are shortages everywhere, everything’s closed, we had to scale the budget way down for the next quarter, and everyone’s looking at everyone else like they’re carrying the plague if they so much as sniffle. At least if you’re there, you’ll get tested often and you’ll know that the people you’re around are safe, too.” You hadn’t thought about that, but she was right. 

“And I’ve already had it, so it’s not like I can get sick again … that’s a relief.” Trailing your fingers over the smooth, flat stone of the railing, you eyed the expansive green lawn, the dim lights just turning on to illuminate it. “Dammit, Carmen.” Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. “Tell them I’ll do it.” She laughed on the other end of the line, and you smiled too, humming quietly. “Why is this position open, anyway? Wouldn’t this be something that they’d want to have in place before the prep work starts? The actors are starting to get here, and -”

“They had someone, but they had to drop out last minute. Travel documents got fucked up, and she wouldn’t be able to get it sorted in time to fly in, quarantine and start with the shoot. You’ve already quarantined, so there’s no issue there.” 

“Isn’t that perfect.” Inhaling, you could feel the cool night air moving through your lungs though you couldn’t smell it, and you swore under your breath. “This seems too good to be true. I haven’t seen any of these Cliff Beast movies, so hopefully that isn’t a problem. But -” “You’re not missing much.” She laughed - hard - and you did too, the woman continuing after only a few seconds. “This is going to be good for you. I’m actually pretty jealous. Dustin Mulray is in it, and he’s -” “No, shit!” Your eyes widened as she said the name. “Who else?” The woman listed off a few other names, and as she did, your apprehension about the situation began to fade, slowly being replaced with excitement. 

“And of course Dieter Bravo’s in it, but you already know that since you met him.” I did. “I’m really surprised about that, since his last movie was such a different genre, but who knows what he’s trying to do with himself. Maybe he’s trying to get away from the serious stuff and back into the comedy, but -” “We’ll see.” You shivered, the air growing cooler by the second against your bare arms. “Thank you, Carmen, for doing this. Do you want me to keep you updated or send you drafts or -” “Nope.” What? “Don’t even worry about your piece for us until closer to the end of the shoot. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve got the next couple of months off. Just … have fun.” Fun? “I’ll call Paula back, and your paperwork should be in the production office tomorrow, or the day after at the latest. They’ll take care of everything.” 

A few seconds later, you hung the phone up, slipping it into the back pocket of your jeans and returning your gaze to the landscape. It was quiet - the only sound the birds chirping off in the distance and the faint rustle of branches, but that didn’t last. “I haven’t seen any of the movies either.” Dieter was on his balcony, a low wall and about ten feet of space between you. “And I’m actually in this one.”

“Sorry if I was being too loud, Mr. Bravo. I -” “Call me Dieter.” He smiled at you, the sunglasses that had been on his shirt earlier perched on his nose, though the lenses were clear. “And you weren’t. I just figured I’d see what the outdoor area of my cell for the next two weeks was like.” Oh, I didn’t even think of that - he’s gotta stay inside too. 

“It’s very small but it gets good sun for a couple hours a day.” Both eyebrows rose, the man cocking his head to one side. “I just finished a month confined to this room, so I definitely don’t envy you.” 

“A month? Why?” 

“Well I was here for work,” you replied, turning and leaning one hip against the railing. “And I came into contact with someone that tested positive while I was filming my piece on the town a couple miles away, so I had to isolate… and then toward the end of that, I somehow tested positive, even though I have no idea who it would have been from.” He winced. “Yeah, it was pretty shitty, but I didn’t have to go to the hospital, so it could have been much worse than just not being able to smell or taste anything.” Wetting your lips, you kept speaking. “So I had to stay here for another two weeks, which ended this morning, and I was supposed to fly home, but I guess they somehow forgot I was even here and locked everything down instead, so…” 

“So now you’re stuck here with us.” He smirked, a large dimple appearing in one cheek. “But the only difference is that while we’re cooped up in our rooms, you won’t be.” 

“How much did you hear?” Laughing, you rolled your eyes. “Nosy.” 

“It’s not like I have anything else to do.” Standing up, the man ran a hand through his hair, the curls sticking out even more than they had been. “You ever been on a movie set before?” 

“No, nothing like this. And I bet with it being so closed off, it’s going to be -” “None of us have ever done this shit before.” He rolled his eyes - though the action was playful -  and you caught the glint of an earring in the light spilling out from his room and onto the balcony. Didn’t notice that before. “It’s new for me too.” That might have been true, but you knew that you were still on unequal footing, due to his having to constantly adapt to different situations and responsibilities on sets and having the experience where you didn’t. “You’ll be fine.” 

“Mr. - Dieter.” You caught yourself, pressing your lips together and pausing. “I didn’t know who you were earlier, and I apologize for that. I wouldn’t have been such a -” “Don’t apologize. I know what it’s like to be fuckin’ stressed. Plus the mask didn’t help, right?” The grin that spread over his face made him seem almost boyish, and you couldn’t help smiling back. “And I know what people say about me. I know what people think about me, and it’s fine.” He shrugged. “I’m used to it. But…” He stepped marginally closer, though he kept most of the distance. “This is Hollywood. Not everything’s real. And maybe over the next couple of months you’ll get to know that.” What does that mean? 

“Dieter, I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean, but …” You gestured at the open door to your room, choosing not to look away from him. “This is the last night that I’ll spend in this room. That blonde at the front desk can’t move me out of this side of the hotel fast enough, so I’m sure I’ll disappear to another wing of the building with the film crew, just to make sure I don’t bother the talent.” 

His face fell slightly - which surprised you, but you understood that he likely wasn’t looking forward to spending the next fourteen days alone, much in the same way you’d spent so much time by yourself. “I wonder.” He mumbled the words, brow furrowed, but then his expression changed, the man’s face smoothing out. “The first five Cliff Beasts movies are on Netflix, did you know that?” I didn’t. “If you’re going to be working on the set for 6, you might want to watch at least one of them.” “Shouldn’t you take your own advice?” He laughed then, the sound carrying through the darkness. “We’ll see.” You didn’t know what else to say to him, and so instead of just standing there, you took a step to the side, closer to the doors. “I’m getting cold, so I’m going to go inside. If I don’t see you again until filming starts, I hope you have a good quarantine.” He frowned at you - pushing his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout, and you had to bite back a smile at the expression, keeping your face neutral. Oh, he’s trouble. The man muttered something in reply that you didn’t catch, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Also? The groundskeepers make their rounds at about 11 am every day. So if you want to talk to a real person and not someone via video or over the phone, that’s your best bet.” 

“You’re fucking joking.” Head shaking back and forth, you kept your eyes on him. “The only people you’ve talked to for the last month are the gardeners?” Agreeing and telling him that there’d been a couple days where you’d said hello to a delivery driver, too, you heard him swear, his fingers tightening against his biceps. “Fuck that. Now I get why you were so upset in the lobby.” 

“Goodnight, Dieter.” Taking two steps, you paused and looked back, finding that he was still following your movement with his eyes, the man’s body angled so that he could watch you reenter your room. “The main groundskeeper's name is Colin, by the way. He likes fishing.” 

You heard Dieter’s groan as you stepped over the threshold and back into the carpeted floor of your room, lips splitting into a wide smile while you pulled the doors mostly shut. That went well. 

You’d never interacted with a legitimate movie star before, but if the job was everything that Carmen had explained, that would change over the course of the following few months. Dieter was only the beginning, you realized as you scrolled through the announced cast list, and while he was arguably the most talented, he wasn’t the most famous - and you had to wonder what the others would be like. Guess I’ll find out. 

A half hour later, you were showered and in bed, the TV on and remote in hand. As you clicked through the Netflix menu, you replayed your conversation with Dieter in your mind, trying to make sense of it. He usually comes off as such a pretentious dick, but he wasn’t… that’s not what I saw. 

Setting the alarm on your phone, you plugged it in to charge and then pressed play on the TV remote, snuggling down and into the blankets while the title screen of the first Cliff Beasts appeared on the screen. Might as well see what I’m getting myself into. 

—-

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Place for The Weary

So I have a lot of good pieces stuck in google docs file for me to write in whenever inspiration strucks or I want to read something I made. I don’t know where to go with most of these pieces of text but like hell I’ll let them stay in that file for another year. And since it’s Mental Health Month on Tumblr, I’ve picked three particular oneshots that fits the theme.

Take care of yourself wyrmlings and remember, it’s not a weakness to lean on somebody every once in a while.

Yours

 - Aldryrth (Al) The Chromatic Dragon

(art does not belong to me)

Warnings: angst, comfort

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Beatrice (OC)

Note:  This is written with an OC, I know this is not everyone’s thing but she’s a nice gal. I’m sure you’ll like her.

As Bea watched the two women running excitedly towards the tree, she started to walk in the same direction when she noticed Dante hadn't moved, watching the tree silently with the pensive expression. 

Before she could say anything, Dante started to walk slowly towards the entrance. She knew something was wrong, she saw Dante this serious only a few times over the long time they knew each other. Whatever was waiting for them behind this gate, it was bigger, much bigger than anything they normally faced. 

Before she realized what she was doing, she quietly reached for lapels on the back of his coat and gave them a soft tug. Dante stopped, heaving a tired sigh before he turned to her, eyes silently asking for a reason they were still standing here. Beatrice opened her mouth, mind scrambling for something to say but couldn’t come up with anything. What was she supposed to say? That it’s going to be fine, that she’s sorry that his life, their lives,  is such a marginal clusterfuck, that whatever it is, he can talk to her? All those things sounded either like a shortsighted foolishness or things that were already repeated in the past, only for both of them to know that one just doesn’t just start to resolve years of trauma, grief, physical and mental battle. And Beatrice learned the hard way that she cannot save everyone, cannot help everyone. Only thing she can do is offer her strength and support. And that’s exactly what she did.

“Whatever it is behind this gate, we get through this together. You don’t have to handle everything by yourself. I know you can, but... you don’t have to.”

She put an arm on his shoulder, felt his warmth even through the thick, worn down leather of his coat, and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Dante stared at her for a while, his expression unreadable. She started to worry she might have offended him somehow, or what’s more common, stuffed her nose in things that don't concern her, thinking she’s being helpful.

The last thing she expected was for Dante to envelop her in a tight embrace. He moved so fast, Bea hadn't fully processed what was happening until his strong arms squeezed her, almost painfully. She hasn't felt any warmth or good-natured humor from his stance, only a silent and sad need for comfort. Before she could react the moment was over. Dante untangled himself from her and immediately marched towards the Urizen tree.

Beatrice didn’t like the flash of determined but pained look on his face. It was the look she knew almost too well. 

It was the look of a person who is about to commit atrocity in the name of duty.

“Dammit, Vergil, did you see the size of that thing?!” Beatrice turned to him excitedly, wildly gesticulating with her hands.

Vergil watched her with barely contained amusement, already used to her antics.

“You were so amazing!” She beamed at this and wrapped her arms around him in the heat of a moment, squeezing him tightly.

Vergil froze. He couldn’t remember when he’s been held like this, touched without murderous intention. For those brief seconds he couldn’t bring himself to react, to push her away, stab her, scold her or, lord forbid, return the embrace.

Beatrice loosened her arm around him when she noticed how stiff he was. “Verge? Are you alright? You know I’m not gonna hurt you, so no need to stab me.” She tried to joke her way out of it, but when Vergil kept silent she slowly, as if not to alert him, started to let go.

“It’s not that.” He blurted, his mind scrambling for words, he didn’t know why he bothered to explain himself, but there was something about her, something that allowed him to let his guard down just a little bit.

“It’s just that...it has been a long time since I...I’ve been touched in this...casual manner.” Vergil cleared his throat, hoping she didn’t notice the slight tremor in his voice.

Wishful thinking, she looked at him with sympathetic eyes, eyebrows scrunched with pity and Vergil wished to be anywhere but there. He didn’t want her sympathy nor anyone else's. He doesn’t need her, doesn’t…

“Oh, Vergil…” She whispered and enveloped him in her arms again.

For a while, they just stood there. Beatrice hugging him tenderly and him awkwardly staring at her shoulder. Vergil felt her warmth, smelled the sweet scent of her hair, despite both of them being covered in grime and demon gore, and her arms, still as strong in their hold as before, as if she’s willing to just stand in this dark, grimm void as the time passed around them for all eternity, until she was certain he had enough of her warmth. 

Beatrice didn’t hear him pull yamato out of its sheath, which was a good sign, but she also didn’t feel him move or say anything which...she didn’t know how to decipher. Vergil was bloody hard to talk to, she still couldn’t believe that he consented for them to travel together. Maybe he really doesn’t like to be touched. Not everyone is so starved for affection and protection as she is…

Is what she thought until she felt Vergil slowly pressing his forehead to her shoulder. The arm is still holding the yamato, placing itself on her waist. Beatrice smiled to herself as the blue devil little by little pressed himself closer, closer still until they were both squeezing the grief and loneliness out of each other.

And for the first time in her life, Beatrice felt the alien feeling of content settle in her heart.

“That bastard called me a deadweight!!!” An angry roar echoed around piles of rubble. Nero paced furiously from one side to the other. One hand clenching in a tight fist while the other one was running through his hair. Beatrice watched him quietly from the sideways hands folded on her chest. He needed a time to vent first before he was able to listen to anyones words, that much haven’t changed since his younger years. She understood why he was angry. It wasn’t just the words that got to him. Despite his words, Nero respected and admired Dante, even moreso than her, so being cast away like this was painful kick to the heart. Not to mention Nero’s sensitivity to rejection, something he haven’t got rid off since his earlier years in orphanage. Damn you, Dante. She knew why he did this. It was the same situation like all those years back with her. He wanted to push him away to protect him, to make Nero hate him so if something happened he wouldn’t blame himself. A shitty technique Dante used everytime someone got too close to him. It didn’t even solve anything for anyone, just made things worse. She learned that the hard way. It was only because she recognized Dante’s true intentions and then stubbornly refused to leave him, that the two of them stayed together for this long. The woman let out annoyed sigh. Dante was a mess when it came to his relatives, but what could one want from a man whose life was mostly marked by blood, steel and gunpowder. Nero wasn’t much better. The only reason why he was still stomping around here and not towards the demonic tree was because he knew she would drag him back until he’s calmed down. V’s eyes nervously danced from her to Nero. From the piece of concrete she sat him on, he looked worse then ever. Heavy, labored breaths raked his narrow ribcage and his entire body trembled. He looked like he was about to pass out. She knew they don’t have much time, but sending her devil-boy like this into fray would do more harm then good. V opened his mouth to speak, possibly to calm Nero, but Bice raised her hand in sign for him to be quiet and walked towards the agitated Sparda. Nero was still pacing angrily, his body language growing more aggresive by the second. When she finally caught up with him she caught the words like “dead to me” and “worthless piece of-”, she wasn’t sure if those words were adressed to him or Dante. Bice placed her hand on the boy’s arm when suddenly, a fist flew past her face. The only reason she didn’t get punched in the face was thanks to her quick reflexes. When Nero realized what he had done, a horror flashed in his eyes. “fuck, I-I didn’t mean to…” Nero took a step back, scared and lost, all the emotions laying bare on his face. Beatrice could see it all. “I…c-can’t do anything right!” Head bowed, both hands now clenched so furiously they were trembling and face scrunched in a pained grimace. Beatrice knew Nero was tried to process all of these overwhelming emotions by himself and was slowly losing the battle. “I’m so sorry.” “I’m so…so sorry!” All the turnmoil in his face accumulated in his eyes as they started dangerously glisten. A small involuntarily sob escaped him and Nero buried his face in his hands shame and anger. Curled up like this, he looked just like that little boy clinging to her shirt when the kids in school called him a freak, when Fortuna Defense Forces repeatedly rejected his application or when Credo died. He put on a brave face for everybody, but once he was alone… Nero felt gentle but firm hands clasping his wrists away from his face. He still kept his head down though, too ashamed to show Beatrice, of all people, just how weak he was. But she didn’t let him, she never allowed sadness to cloud his mind and helplessness to weigh on his back. She lifted his head by the finger under his chin and looked in his face. Slowly, he peeled his eyes open, too embarassed to look her in the eyes. He was met with warm golden gaze of his guardian. No judgement in  them, never in those eyes. Her hands framed his face, thumbs wiping away few stray tears that escaped his eyes. At that moment, Nero felt like those palms are the only things that hold him together. “Feeling sad, lonely or frustrated doesn’t make you weak.” He stared at Bice as she gave him a gentle smile. “It makes you human.” Nero let her arms wrap around as his face buried in her collarbone. As he listened to her steady heartbeat, he felt the strong pair of arms squeezed him strongly, as if trying to wring out the stress out of him. As they stood there together, a pair of intense green eyes watched them curiously. There was something about this woman that felt familiar, it burned in the back of his mind but as soon as he tried to chase the memory, it disappeared. A human, hm?

[quillquiver]

Listen, does this mean that Dean’s death wasn’t fucking awful? Of course not. If anything, this confirms that actually, in the end, Supernatural really and truly buried their queers. They did that. Cas comes back in a throwaway line and Dean is killed in on a hunt of his father’s.

I’m blown away and baffled by this entire thing, and it’s freaking amazing to now be able to go and re-watch the series with the knowledge that Dean is bi in canon. But the reason we’re trending on twitter is not because of a ship, and feeling vindication does not make you a bad person. 

Whether or not that reciprocation was part of a conspiracy theory or the result of some seriously creative translation, we’re left with a clusterfuck of epic proportions that implies either further queerbaiting or full-on censorship.

That’s what this is about. That’s why it’s so important. That’s why it’s serious. 

For me, at least.