#robots from 2011

[rihkal]

Operabots by the MIT Media Lab (2011)

[beesantennas]

gotta felt a couple gifts to see my family this weekend which means I can't watch new stuff. that means putting on the bay movies in the bg right? right

[curiousorigins]

Btw Inkling is a fantastic word. It sounds fun and it's meaning and use is solid.

I have too many words I'm found of, in English and Italian to have a genuine ranking. But if I did, this would probably be in the top 100.

Ink-one of my favorite sound combos. (And mediums to work in although the medium shares zero etmology with this work. Their only relation being sound and spelling) and the sound Cling. I know it's uncommon to have favorite phonemes/syllable combos, but this one combo is just so fun on the tongue. It brings me joy. Inkling.

[kaimactrash]

while writing this rough draft of everything, looking at some of the ideas I have and plan to use, and realise how something else has done this sorta idea before, so now i need to do it good and diffrent so people aren't like "haha just like X!"

[sebnameyourcar]

wait would you u want to explain the context of multi 21?

MULTI-21: A HISTORY LESSON

MODERN ASSUMPTIONS:

it has been over a decade since the 2013 malaysian grand prix. as the years have gone on, people have forgotten, or smoothed out, the minutiae of it.

when people talk about multi-21 nowadays, it tends to fall under three headings:

• evil supervillain seb was addicted to winning and didn’t care about his team. selfish emotionless robot. got booed for a year and deserved it

• cunty brat seb was a disobedient child and refused to listen to his team and faced no consequences ever because he was red bulls special little boytoy

• poor mark webber was betrayed by his team as he had been for five years. the win was his and seb stole it

but of course, nothing is ever so simple

BACKGROUND

by 2013, sebastian and mark had been teammates for 5 years, and part of the extended red bull “family” for 7.

when they became teammates in 2009, mark was the older, more experienced head. seb was the young wunderkind who already had a race win under his belt, more than mark had.

(ironically, mark won his first race in germany in 2009. seb wouldn’t win his home GP until 2013. seb has since called mark’s 2009 german gp win as one of the most impressive drives he’s ever seen.)

anyway. let’s go back in time. it’s japan. it’s 2007. and it is raining. it’s lap 45, under the safety car after alonso crashed out. the rain is TORRENTIAL, and mark (red bull) is running in 2nd. he’s so sick that he’s vomiting in his helmet. seb (toro rosso baby. 20 years old) was 3rd. hamilton was leading, and braked quite dangerously. seb was caught out by this, and crashed into the back of mark. both of them had been running in the podium places, and both had to retire. mark called seb a kid without experience fucking it up. seb cried in his garage. this is the first time they crash. mark later referred to it as the first time they made love on track because he’s a freak

fast forward to turkey 2010. they are teammates now, and have been for over a year. fuji 2007 had largely been forgotten. water under the bridge. they are fighting for the championship against ferrari and mclaren. mark got pole, but around lap 40 seb had caught up to him as mark had to save fuel. they “merged towards each other” (generous). mark didn’t give seb enough space, seb was too over-eager. people will have different opinions. unless you’re helmut marko, who will always back seb, since seb is a product of the red bull academy whereas mark wasn’t. mark went on to finish on the podium, seb had to retire. seb was PISSED! (sexy). this is seen as the start of the “rivalry” by many.

britain 2010. aka the mark-webber-slams-water-on-desk moment. seb was given the new front wing from marks car for qualifying because he was a better qualifier because his had broken in fp3. he would ultimately get a puncture in the race, whilst webber with the old wing came first, and graced us with the “not bad for a no.2 driver” radio message.

so, where are we by summer 2010 and spring 2011? fuji was no one’s fault really, turkey was six of one half a dozen of the other, but mark felt the team favoured seb. britain made that feeling CONCRETE in marks mind. then seb won the title in 2010 after not leading until the final race of the season. in the press conference before abu dhabi 2010, seb kept getting asked if he’d let mark past it if would win mark the championship, and he kept evading the answer. see, mark had been ahead in the championship, but he qualified 7th while seb got pole and won. so, come 2011, webber was convinced the team favoured seb. however, seb was by far and away the better driver.

so. britain 2011. an underrated moment of the vettel webber rivalry. mark qualified on pole, with seb p2. seb quickly took the lead in the race. later on in the race after some botched pit stops and drama, mark was close to seb. red bull told mark NOT to pass seb.

mark ignored this team order. he tried to pass his teammate, but ultimately failed to do so. it’s often forgetting in vettel/webber rivalry lore that mark was the first of them to ignore a direct team order. the difference was he just wasn’t able to make the overtake. here are two interesting quotes from just after the race:

and now. brazil 2012. another forgotten multi-21 backstory. it was the last race of the season, and seb was fighting for his third straight championship, only alonso could possibly beat him. mark qualified 3rd, seb 4th, and alonso 8th. seb had a rocky start to the race, which resulted in him being hit from the back & spun around. he pulled off the mother of all recovery drives to win the championship. alls well that ends well right? wrong. horner admitted a few years ago that seb felt that mark was to blame for the rocky start by forcing seb into the wall. horner even went as far as to say that this lack of teamwork was directly in sebs mind when malaysia 2013 came around. that that was seb’s revenge.

conspiracy theorists will say that mark forced seb towards the wall because he wanted his mate alonso to win the championship over his teammate. definitely possible but not confirmed.

so. here we are. malaysia 2013. it’s been 5 years of crashes, ignored team orders (mark), favouritism (seb) and finally an almost championship-ruining shove towards a wall.

seb qualified on pole, mark 5th. but mark took the lead after the first round of pitstops. around lap 46, seb was gaining on mark, who was on old hard tyres. team orders came through for seb not to fight mark. multi 21 literally means that car no 2 should stay in position ahead of car no 1. just as mark ignored team orders in britain 2011, seb ignored them here. the only difference was seb actually got past. mark was furious (“yep that’s good teamwork!”) seb, a bad liar, was hilarious (“i was really scared… all of a sudden he was moving… i had to…”) horner was regretting most of his life choices (“this is silly seb come on.”)

seb won the race. the most awkward of all cool down rooms ensued (“multi 21 seb. yeah? multi 21”) seb chugged an entire bottle of water. poor lewis hamilton just trying to disappear into thin air. underrated moment is you can see a clip of seb trying to explain something to mark and neither of them are having a good time. on the podium interviews after mark said “seb will have protection from the team as always” - harkening back to his long-felt belief that the team favoured seb, yet ignoring his own history of ignoring team orders, and ignoring brazil 2012.

seb would later apologise.

…

three days later seb would rescind that apology.

(“i was racing i was faster i passed him i won.”)

at this stage, seb had been the dominant driver for four years running and some crowds had grown annoyed at him, so used this as an excuse to boo him at basically every race for the summer swing of the season. seb spoke at the end of 2013 about how hard this was for him, and how he was thankful for the support of his family and girlfriend during the hard times. it’s important to remember that seb was only in his mid 20s when all this booing and controversy was happening. it’s a lot to shoulder, especially when you’re only doing what you’ve always done, what you’re being paid to do: winning.

mark would retire at the end of the 2013 season, though apparently he had already made up his mind before malaysia.

seb would stay at red bull for one more year before moving to ferrari.

when asked in 2022, seb said he wouldn’t change what he did in malaysia 2013. and in my opinion, he’s right.

unlike the mclaren clusterfuck of hungary 24, there was YEARS of history between vettel and webber before multi-21. grudges, crashes, hurts, pride, friendship, rivalry, championships lost and won. this was the cumulation of their entire careers to date, all of their mistakes and their motivations for better or for worse.

basically, it was never so simple as “seb ignored team orders because he was an arrogant brat” or “poor mark the team never liked him” it’s… well it’s all of the above. cheers for reading. fuck me i went on a bit

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Daft Punk - Around the World 1997

"Around the World" is a song by French electronic music duo Daft Punk. It was released in April 1997 as the second single from their debut studio album, Homework. The song became a major club hit globally and reached number one on the dance charts in Canada, Spain, the UK, and the US. It also peaked at number one in Iceland and Italy. The song's lyrics solely consist of the words "around the world", repeated on loop for a total of 144 times (80 on the radio edit). In October 2011, NME placed it at number 21 on its list "150 Best Tracks of the Past 15 Years". "Around the World" was featured in one episode of first season of MTV animated series Daria. It was also used in the video games Dance Central 3, NBA 2K13 and the trailers for Ubisoft E3 2007 Rayman Raving Rabbids 2.

Michel Gondry's music video for the song features five groups of characters on a platform representing a vinyl record: four robots walking around in a circle; four tall athletes wearing tracksuits with small prosthetic heads walking up and down stairs; four women dressed like synchronized swimmers moving up and down another set of stairs; four skeletons dancing in the center of the platform; and four mummies dancing in time with the song's drum pattern. This is meant to be a visual representation of the song; each group of characters represents a different instrument. According to Gondry's notes, the robots represent the singing voice; the physicality and small-minded rapidity of the athletes symbolizes the ascending/descending bass guitar; the femininity of the disco girls represents the high-pitched keyboard; the skeletons dance to the guitar line; and the mummies represent the drum machine.

"Around the World" was Gondry's first attempt at bringing organized dancing to his music videos. "I was sick to see choreography being mistreated in videos like filler with fast cutting and fast editing, really shallow. I don't think choreography should be shot in close-ups." The sequence, initially developed by Gondry, was further expanded and streamlined by choreographer Blanca Li.

The music video won Best Dance Video at the International Dance Music Awards, and was nominated for Best Video at the MTV Europe Music Video Awards, and nominated for International Viewer's Choice - MTV Europe at the MTV Video Music Awards. The song was nominated for Best Dance Recording at the Grammy Awards.

"Around the World" received a total of 81,7% yes votes!

[the-winter-spider]

Under Pressure | two

Bucky x reader Modern AU

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: Depression, Angst, mentions of su!cide

Part One

The days after Bucky left blurred together in a suffocating haze. Time had lost all meaning; the hours stretched endlessly, bleeding into each other until they were indistinguishable. Morning, afternoon, evening—it didn’t matter. You existed more than you lived, moving through the motions like a robot.

You told yourself you needed to get up, to move, to do something. So you tried. God, you tried. You Googled solutions like your life depended on it. ��How to deal with depression alone,” “How to stop feeling numb,” “Ways to make life better.”

Meditation was the first thing you found, so you gave it a shot. You sat cross-legged on the living room floor, your back straight, your hands resting on your knees. The world around you was quiet—too quiet. Closing your eyes, you tried to focus on your breathing, in and out, in and out, just like the video said. But every inhale felt shallow, every exhale jagged. The silence wasn’t calming. It only made the noise in your head louder: This is pointless. You’re pointless. Nothing will ever change.

Next came exercise. You dragged yourself into old workout clothes that felt too loose, the fabric hanging from your frame. You stood in the middle of your apartment, pacing back and forth, trying to summon the energy to do something—anything. You managed a few jumping jacks, then collapsed onto the couch, your chest heaving, not from exertion but from the weight pressing down on you. Your body felt heavy, leaden, like gravity had increased just for you.

You lay there staring at the ceiling, hot tears slipping down your temples and pooling in your ears. You wanted to scream, to cry out for help, but your voice felt stuck somewhere deep inside you.

The darkness, though—that was always there. It wasn’t loud or forceful. It was subtle, enticing, warm in its own terrible way. It wrapped around you like a blanket, whispering promises of relief. Promises of escape. You don’t have to do this. You can stop anytime you want.

You hated it. But at the same time, you couldn’t fight it. You couldn’t resist the way it pulled you under, like quicksand swallowing you whole.

While you fought your battle alone, Bucky fought his own war just outside your door.

He’d lingered there more than once, standing in the hallway of your building with his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. The cold, sterile light of the hallway flickered above him, buzzing faintly. He told himself he shouldn’t be there. You’d made it clear that you wanted him to leave you alone. But he couldn’t stay away.

The weight of your words still clung to him, suffocating and relentless. He replayed that night over and over in his head: the way you’d yelled at him to go, the pain and anger in your voice, the way you’d looked so small as you stood there, refusing to let him in.

It broke him in ways he hadn’t expected. Because the last thing he ever wanted was to leave you feeling alone—or to actually leave you alone.

Once, he’d heard movement from inside: the scrape of a chair, the faint hum of a shower running. For a brief moment, relief flooded through him. He’d exhaled shakily, telling himself you were okay. But by the time he got back to his own apartment, doubt had crept in. What if you weren’t okay? What if the sound was just you existing, not living?

He couldn’t stop thinking about the people who were supposed to be there for you. Your parents. The ones who should have loved you unconditionally, who should have made you feel safe and valued. He hated them for failing you so profoundly. For being absent, for neglecting you, for leaving wounds so deep they may never fully heal.

He wanted to march up to them and scream. Tell them how deeply, endlessly wrong they were to let you believe you were anything less than extraordinary. To let you think, even for a moment, that you weren’t enough.

And then there was you. God, he wanted to tell you the same thing. He wanted to hold you, to wrap you in his arms and take all the sadness, all the pain, and carry it himself if it meant you could finally feel free. He wanted to tell you that you were everything. That the world was brighter, warmer, better just because you were in it.

But he didn’t. Because he’d promised to give you space. Because he was afraid that if he came back too soon, he’d only make things worse. And because part of him—an ugly, self-loathing part—felt like he’d already failed you the moment he walked out that door.

Still, staying away was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to go back, to fix it, to make you see what he saw. But he lingered outside your door instead, waiting. Hoping.

Bucky clenched his fists, his chest tight as he leaned against the wall outside your apartment. He dared to care. He dared to love. But he wasn’t sure if it would ever be enough.

Cause love's such an old fashioned word

---

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the beachside restaurant. The waves lapped gently at the shore, the sound rhythmic and soothing against the soft murmur of conversation. String lights crisscrossed above the outdoor tables, their soft twinkle mirrored by the first stars peeking out of the darkening sky.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, a rare moment of unguarded laughter spilling from her lips as she sipped her drink. The cocktail glass glinted in the light, and her eyes crinkled at the corners—a look of pure, unfiltered joy. She had no idea what was coming, no idea that tonight was about to become one of the most important moments of her life.

Across the table, Steve shifted nervously in his seat, his hand brushing the small velvet box hidden in his pocket. His palms were damp, his throat dry, but when he glanced at Natasha, his nerves melted away. She looked so happy, so carefree, her face glowing in the warm light.

He cleared his throat, his chair scraping slightly against the wooden deck as he stood. The table fell silent, all eyes turning to him. “Natasha,” he began, his voice shaky but filled with determination, “you’ve been my rock since the day I met you. You’ve seen me at my best, my worst, and everything in between. And somehow, you’ve stayed by my side through it all.”

Natasha tilted her head, her brows furrowing in confusion, but a soft smile tugged at her lips as she watched him.

“I never thought I’d get so lucky,” Steve continued, his words steadying as his confidence grew. “Lucky enough to find someone as strong, as smart, as absolutely incredible as you. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.”

As he spoke, his hand slipped into his pocket. When he pulled out the small velvet box and opened it, revealing a glittering diamond ring, Natasha’s hand flew to her mouth.

Gasps rippled through the small group seated at the table, and Natasha’s eyes widened, filling with tears as Steve sank to one knee in front of her.

“Natasha Romanoff,” he said, his smile soft and full of love, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Natasha’s lips trembled as she tried to speak, her hand still covering her mouth. Tears spilled over her cheeks, and she nodded vigorously, her voice breaking as she finally choked out, “Yes. Yes, of course!”

Cheers erupted from the table, applause filling the air as Steve slid the ring onto her finger and stood, pulling her into his arms. Natasha laughed through her tears, clinging to him like she never wanted to let go.

From behind the bushes near the edge of the patio, Bucky and Sam emerged, grinning like proud parents as they joined the group. They weren’t alone—several of Natasha’s coworkers had been waiting for the signal as well, and together they swarmed the table, their cheers and congratulations echoing under the string lights.

Bucky clapped Steve on the back, his grin wide as he said, “About time, Rogers. Thought you were gonna chicken out.”

Steve chuckled, his arm still firmly around Natasha. “Not a chance.”

Sam raised his glass. “To Steve and Nat—the only two people who could make the rest of us look like amateurs at this whole ‘love’ thing.”

The group laughed and raised their glasses, the sound of clinking glass filling the air.

But amidst the laughter and celebration, Natasha’s happiness faltered. Her eyes scanned the group, her smile fading slightly as she looked around. She was searching for someone. And she didn’t see them.

Her gaze landed on Bucky, and her expression shifted to one of quiet frustration. “She’s not here, is she?” she asked softly.

Bucky’s smile faded, and he shook his head, his shoulders sagging slightly. “No. I haven’t seen her.”

Natasha pressed her lips into a thin line, turning to Steve. “You told her, didn’t you? You texted her?”

Steve’s smile slipped into something more serious. “I texted her,” he said. “Left her a voicemail. Even went to her apartment.” He paused, his tone heavy. “But… nothing. She didn’t respond.”

Sam stepped closer, placing a hand on Natasha’s shoulder. “Don’t dwell on it, Nat,” he said gently. “You know how she gets. She just needs time. She’ll be okay. She’s done this before.”

“I know she’s done this before,” Natasha snapped, her voice sharp but tinged with hurt. “I know. But friends are supposed to be happy with you. She should be here.” Her voice cracked, and she looked down at the ring on her finger, her tears threatening to fall again. “If it were her…” She swallowed hard. “If she were getting engaged, I’d drop everything. Just to be there for her.”

Steve stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. “Don’t hold it against her,” he murmured. “You don’t know what’s going on in her head. It’s not about you. It’s about whatever she’s fighting.”

Natasha let out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Anyway,” she muttered, her voice clipped as she wiped her tears and forced a smile. “We’re celebrating, right?”

Steve kissed her temple, his smile soft but understanding. “That’s right. Let’s get another round,” he said, raising his glass.

The group cheered again, their voices loud and bright as they toasted the newly engaged couple. But even as Natasha laughed and smiled, her eyes lingered on the horizon, a shadow of worry flickering behind her joy.

Bucky stood nearby, his drink untouched. He caught Natasha’s glance and gave her a small, apologetic nod. He knew what she was feeling—because he felt it too.

As the party carried on around them, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

And love dares you to care for the people at the edge of the night

---

The high school was alive with energy. The halls buzzed with the usual pre-game excitement: students laughing and shouting, their faces painted with team colors, and jerseys swishing as they ran through the corridors. The air was electric, full of youthful adrenaline and anticipation.

But Bucky wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t swept up in the contagious thrill of game day.

He was pacing.

His boots scuffed against the linoleum as he moved back and forth, his jaw tight and his hands shaking slightly. His helmet dangled loosely in one hand, forgotten, while his other raked through his hair for the hundredth time.

“Man, relax,” Sam said, leaning casually against a locker with his arms crossed, his usual grin in place. “Maybe she’s just sick. People miss school all the time.”

Bucky froze mid-step, turning sharply to face Sam. “You don’t understand,” he snapped, his voice low but tense, like a wire about to snap.

Sam’s grin faltered, and he pushed off the locker, his posture straightening. “Then make me understand,” he said, his tone softer now.

Steve, standing nearby, frowned as he adjusted his jersey. “What’s going on, Buck? She’ll be back tomorrow, right?”

Bucky let out a shaky breath, running his hand down his face. His chest felt too tight, like it couldn’t expand fully, like every breath was a struggle. He glanced around the hall, making sure no one was paying attention, before lowering his voice.

“She’s not just sick, okay?” he said, his tone urgent. His eyes darted between Sam and Steve, desperate for them to get it. “She gets… sad. Not normal sad. It’s different. She told me…” His voice caught, his throat tightening. “She told me she has depression. Real, bad depression.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “And sometimes it gets so bad…” He paused again, his voice cracking. “She told me she doesn’t wanna be alive anymore.”

The air around them seemed to still. Sam’s eyes widened, his easy going demeanor evaporating in an instant. “Oh, shit,” he muttered, the words barely audible. “She's only 17..”

Steve’s face darkened, his brows furrowing deeply as the weight of Bucky’s words sank in. “How bad, Buck?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Bucky admitted, his voice trembling now. “I haven’t heard from her since Tuesday. That’s three days. She always texts me back, always. Even if it’s just a stupid thumbs-up.” He shook his head, his movements restless. “Something’s wrong. I know it.”

Steve stepped forward, his hand landing firmly on Bucky’s shoulder. “Go,” he said simply.

“What?” Bucky asked, blinking at him in disbelief.

“Go to her,” Steve repeated, his tone steady and commanding. “We’ll cover for you. We can win one game without you. If anyone asks, I’ll say you had to run home for something. Just go. It’s Y/N.”

Bucky hesitated for only a second, his hand tightening around his helmet. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice cracking with uncertainty.

“Of course,” Steve said, his voice softening. “It’s her. Just go.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told again. He ripped off his gear, tossing it onto the bench as he turned and sprinted down the hallway. His heart pounded in his chest as he pushed through the school doors and into the cold evening air, the sounds of cheers and chants fading behind him.

By the time he reached your house, his lungs burned, and his legs ached from running, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even pause to catch his breath as he climbed the porch steps, his hand closing around the doorknob. It turned easily.

Unlocked. Of course.

The house was dark, silent except for the faint hum of the fridge. The emptiness pressed against him like a weight.

“Y/N?” he called, his voice echoing in the stillness.

No response.

“Y/N!” he shouted again, his voice cracking with panic as he moved through the house. He checked your bedroom first, his eyes scanning the unmade bed and the dimly lit corners. Nothing.

He flung open the bathroom door. Empty.

Then he felt it—a faint breeze brushing past him, carrying the smell of the night air. His stomach dropped as he turned toward your parents’ room, the door slightly ajar.

“Shit,” he whispered, his breath catching in his throat as he stepped forward, pushing the door open.

There you were.

Standing on the railing of the balcony, your arms outstretched slightly as the wind whipped around you. The sight hit him like a physical blow, his vision narrowing as fear gripped him.

“Sweet girl,” he said softly, his voice trembling as he stepped onto the balcony.

You didn’t turn around. You let out a sad laugh instead, the sound hollow and brittle. “You always call me the sweetest names, Bucky.”

He swallowed hard, his throat dry and tight. “That’s because you’re my best girl,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “And you deserve the best. You hear me?”

You tilted your head slightly, your gaze fixed on the horizon. “Why do I feel like this all the time?”

He took another cautious step forward, his hand hovering near your ankle, ready to grab you at the slightest movement. “I don’t know, angel,” he said gently, his voice filled with desperation. “But I’d do anything to help you. Anything. I just need you to get down, okay? Please.”

You turned your head slightly to look at him, your glassy eyes meeting his. “I just don’t wanna feel like this anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the wind.

A sudden gust of wind made you sway, and Bucky’s heart stopped.

“NO!” he shouted, surging forward and grabbing the back of your shirt. He yanked you toward him with all the strength he could muster, pulling you off the railing and onto the balcony floor.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his voice shaking as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. One hand pressed to the back of your head, the other gripping your shoulder as though letting go wasn’t an option.

You broke down, your sobs wracking your body as you clung to him. His lips pressed against the top of your head over and over, his voice soft and pleading. “Please don’t do that again,” he whispered, his own tears slipping down his cheeks. “Please. I can’t lose you. I never wanna know what it feels like to lose you. Promise me, sweet girl. Promise me you won’t.”

Your voice was muffled against his chest, but you managed to choke out, “Okay.”

“Promise me,” he repeated, pulling back just enough to look into your tear-streaked face.

“I promise,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He nodded, relief flooding his features as he pulled you close again, holding you like you were the most fragile, precious thing in the world.

Because to him, you were.

And for the rest of the night, he didn’t let go.

And love dares you to change our ways of caring about ourselves

----

The pounding on your door shattered the suffocating silence of your apartment. It echoed like a gunshot, jarring and relentless. Natasha’s voice followed immediately, sharp and furious, cutting through the air like a blade.

“Y/N, open the door!” she demanded, her tone full of anger and something else—hurt. “I know you’re in there. You’re always in there.”

You didn’t move. You stood frozen on the other side, your back pressed against the door, your breath shallow and uneven. Your eyes were glued to the blank, lifeless living room in front of you, the dim light casting long, eerie shadows across the walls.

“Don’t ignore me!” Natasha’s voice rose, her words pounding against your chest like the fists she was slamming against the door. “You don’t get to just hide! Not this time!”

Your fingers clutched the edge of your hoodie, trembling as tears pricked at your eyes. Her words were like bullets, each one hitting harder than the last, shattering the fragile shell you’d built around yourself.

“I can’t believe you,” she snapped, her voice cracking. “I thought we were best friends. I thought we were sisters. I thought I mattered to you.” Her voice wavered, trembling with emotion. “But no—you couldn’t even bother to show up. Not for me. Not for Steve. Not for any of us. Do you even care? Do you even care about anyone but yourself?”

The accusation tore through you like a blade. Your knees buckled slightly, but you didn’t fall. You stayed rooted in place, staring blankly ahead as hot tears began to fall, carving silent trails down your cheeks.

“Friends are supposed to be there for each other!” Natasha continued, her voice raw and desperate. “I would have dropped everything for you. I have dropped everything for you. But when it’s my turn, when I’m happy, you—” She broke off, her breath hitching.

You pressed your forehead against the cold wood of the door, biting your lip so hard it nearly bled. You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that you did care, that you cared so much it hurt. But the words wouldn’t come. They were stuck, tangled in the knot in your throat, suffocated by the weight of your guilt.

“Do you even know what that feels like, Y/N?” Natasha’s voice cracked, thick with tears. “To have someone you love not care enough to show up?”

Her words were a dagger, sinking deep into your chest. Your body shook with silent sobs, your hands gripping the fabric of your hoodie so tightly your knuckles ached.

Finally, her voice softened, the anger giving way to something far worse—disappointment. “You could’ve at least tried,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “I deserved that much.”

Her next words were barely a whisper, but they hit you like a hammer: “I don’t think I can do this anymore….be your friend.”

The silence that followed was deafening, suffocating. You heard her take a shaky breath, and then the sound of her footsteps retreating down the hall.

You stayed there, slumped against the door, the tears flowing freely now. Your body felt heavy, weighed down by the crushing guilt and the emptiness that seemed to expand inside you.

She was right. You should’ve been there. You should’ve tried.

But you didn’t.

The days that followed were a blur of silence and shame. Your phone buzzed constantly, the screen lighting up with messages and missed calls, each one a reminder of how deeply you’d failed them.

Sam: Hey, girl. Haven’t heard from you in a bit. You okay?

Sam: Look, I know you’re going through it, but you’re worrying me. At least text me back, yeah?

Sam: I miss you. We all do. Just… let me know you’re alive, okay?

The voicemails from Steve were harder to stomach.

“Hey, it’s Steve. Just checking in again. I, uh… I don’t know what to say that’ll make you answer me, but I hope you’re okay. Call me when you can.”

And then another, this time quieter, more hesitant. “Y/N. Please. We’re all worried. Just… let me know you’re okay.”

Sam again, his voice more urgent this time. “Y/N. Come on. Just one text. That’s all I’m asking for. We love you, okay? Don’t forget that.”

You listened to each one, your phone clutched tightly in your hands, tears streaming down your face. But you didn’t reply. You couldn’t. You didn’t deserve their worry, their care.

But it was Bucky’s name on your call list that haunted you the most.

Every night, you paced your apartment, your thumb hovering over his name, your chest tight with indecision. His name stared back at you, a lifeline you couldn’t bring yourself to grab.

You thought about his voice, the way he’d say your name like it was the most important thing in the world. You thought about the way he’d looked at you that night, his eyes filled with hurt and confusion as you yelled at him to leave.

You wanted to call him. God, you wanted to call him.

But every time your finger hovered over the call button, your breath hitched, and the doubts crept in. What if he didn’t answer? What if he was still angry? What if you dragged him down with you, and he finally realized you weren’t worth the effort?

So you didn’t.

Every night, you stood there with the phone in your hand, tears streaking your face, your breaths shaky and uneven. Every night, you almost called him.

But every night, you couldn’t.

And the silence grew heavier, the weight of it pressing down on you like it was trying to crush the little life you had left out of you.

This is our last dance

---

Bucky stood in front of his mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time. His reflection stared back at him, but the man in the mirror didn’t feel like him. His hands trembled slightly as he fastened the last button, smoothing the fabric over his chest in a futile attempt to steady himself.

This felt wrong. All of it.

He turned to the dresser, where his phone sat just within reach. The screen was dark, but he could still feel the weight of your name sitting in his call list, just waiting. His fingers twitched with the urge to pick it up, to text you, to call you, to say he was sorry for walking out that night.

But he didn’t.

Because you’d been so hostile, so closed off. You’d shouted at him to leave, your voice breaking with pain and anger, and it had cut deeper than he wanted to admit. He knew you were hurting, but so was he. And as much as he hated himself for it, he hadn’t been strong enough to stay.

His thoughts drifted back to Natasha’s visit to your apartment earlier that week. She’d told him about it when they were sitting in Steve’s kitchen, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“I gave her an earful through the door,” Natasha had said, her voice tight with a mix of anger and sadness. “I told her I didn’t want to be friends anymore if she couldn’t be there for me during my brightest moments. I know she’s going through it, Buck, but this… this was too much.”

Bucky had sat stiffly in his chair, his jaw clenching as her words sunk in. “And what did she say?” he’d asked quietly.

“Nothing,” Natasha replied, her voice breaking slightly. “She didn’t say anything. Didn’t open the door, didn’t even acknowledge I was there.”

Bucky’s fists had tightened at his sides. He hadn’t said anything, but the anger bubbling beneath the surface wasn’t for you—it was for Natasha, for not understanding, for expecting more from you when you were barely holding yourself together. But he didn’t defend you either. He couldn’t. He didn’t know how.

That night, unable to stop himself, he’d gone to your apartment. He’d leaned against the wall outside your door for forty-five minutes, straining to hear anything—anything at all. When he finally heard the faint sound of footsteps, relief had coursed through him.

But it didn’t last.

The relief was fleeting, overshadowed by the same helplessness that had plagued him since the night he left. He wanted to knock, to call out your name, to beg you to let him in. He wanted to wrap you in his arms and tell you that everything would be okay, even if he wasn’t sure it would be.

But he didn’t. Because you’d shut him out so completely, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

Now, as he stood in his room, the weight of everything pressed down on him like a stone. He shouldn’t be doing this. Not now. Not with everything going on. But he’d already agreed to the date with Olivia, and canceling felt like admitting defeat.

A knock at the door pulled him from his spiraling thoughts.

He opened it to find Olivia standing there, smiling brightly in a simple dress and a leather jacket. Her blonde hair framed her face perfectly, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. She looked beautiful, and Bucky forced a smile in return, even as it felt hollow.

“Hey,” she said, her voice warm and cheerful. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” he said, grabbing his jacket and keys. He shut the door behind him, his mind still lingering on you as they walked down the hallway together.

The restaurant was cozy and dimly lit, the air filled with the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. Olivia had chosen the place, and it was perfect—intimate without feeling stuffy, charming without trying too hard.

She was kind, funny, and easy to talk to. She laughed at his jokes, asked him questions about his interests, and smiled at him like he was the only person in the room.

But to Bucky, it all felt wrong.

As Olivia talked about her childhood, Bucky’s mind wandered back to you. He thought about the way you’d laugh when you thought no one was listening, how it was soft and genuine and lit up a room in a way no one else’s could. He thought about the late-night conversations you’d shared over takeout, your voice quiet and full of trust as you let him see pieces of yourself that no one else did.

And then he thought about the last time he saw you. The way your voice cracked when you yelled at him to leave, the hurt and anger in your eyes. The way you’d looked so small, so fragile, as you stood there, refusing to let him help you.

“Bucky?”

Olivia’s voice pulled him back to the present. She was looking at him with a mix of curiosity and concern, her smile faltering slightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, forcing a smile. “Sorry. Just… long week.”

She nodded, accepting the answer, but the concern in her eyes didn’t fade entirely.

Bucky felt a pang of guilt. Olivia didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve him sitting across from her, half-present, his heart and mind clearly somewhere else. She deserved someone who could look at her the way Steve looked at Natasha, who could give her all the attention and affection she deserved.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He couldn’t stop worrying about you.

And he couldn’t stop loving you.

As the date went on, he tried—he really did. He asked her questions, made jokes, even managed to laugh at a few of her stories. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts always circled back to you.

What were you doing right now? Were you okay? Were you eating? Sleeping? Or were you standing on that balcony again, the wind whipping around you like it had that night in high school?

“Bucky?” Olivia said again, pulling him from his thoughts for the second time that night.

He blinked, realizing he’d been staring at his untouched drink for far too long. “Sorry,” he said again, his voice quieter now.

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes this time. “It’s okay,” she said softly.

But it wasn’t.

And as much as he hated to admit it, Bucky knew this date wasn’t fair to her—or to himself.

This is our last dance.

---

The weight that had been pressing down on you for weeks finally collapsed in on itself, suffocating you, dragging you deeper into the endless darkness. You couldn’t see a way out, couldn’t imagine a future where you’d feel anything other than this crushing hopelessness. It was all-consuming, a void that devoured every thought, every breath.

Your apartment was cold and silent, the air thick with stillness, broken only by the shaky sound of your breathing. Desperate for something, anything to ground you, you reached for your phone and pressed play on the only song that had ever been able to reach you in moments like this.

The familiar melody of Under Pressure filled the room, echoing off the walls like a lifeline.

“Pressure, pushing down on me…”

You paced back and forth, the phone clutched tightly in your hand, tears streaming freely down your face. The lyrics sliced through you with every word, each note digging deeper into your already raw heart. This song had always made you feel lighter before, always brought a smile to your face when Bucky danced around the room, grabbing your hands and spinning you until you couldn’t help but laugh.

But tonight, it felt different.

You sank to your knees, your sobs growing louder as the music swelled, your chest heaving with the effort to keep breathing. You pressed the phone closer to your ear, as if Freddie Mercury and David Bowie’s voices could somehow pull you back from the edge.

The cold breeze from the balcony seeped through the glass door, brushing against your skin like a whisper. Your gaze drifted toward it, the sheer curtain fluttering softly in the wind.

For a moment, the thought crossed your mind.

It would be so easy.

But then, as if on instinct, you shook your head violently, your hands flying to your temples as if you could physically push the thought away.

No.

That can’t be it. You promised Bucky.

The broken promise hung over you like a specter as you stumbled to the bathroom, your legs shaky and unsteady beneath you. The light flickered when you flipped the switch, casting an eerie glow over the small space.

The broken mirror greeted you, jagged cracks splintering your reflection into a thousand fractured pieces. You stared at it, at the distorted, hollow version of yourself staring back. You didn’t recognize the person in the shards.

You opened the cabinet, your hands trembling as you reached for the bottle of antidepressants tucked away behind an old bottle of painkillers and a nearly empty tube of toothpaste. The bottle felt heavy in your palm, its weight somehow both grounding and terrifying.

You clutched it tightly, your breath coming in uneven gasps as you backed out of the bathroom and began pacing the apartment again.

The music continued to play, Freddie and Bowie’s voices swelling with the crescendo:

“Why can’t we give love, give love, give love…”

You couldn’t stop hearing Bucky’s voice, the way he’d always called you sweet girl, his tone soft and warm, like you were the most important thing in his world. You heard him as clearly as if he were standing beside you, his words from so long ago echoing in your mind:

“Promise me.”

Tears blurred your vision as you collapsed onto the couch, clutching the bottle in one hand and your phone in the other. The weight of the pills was unbearable, as if they were the physical manifestation of everything you couldn’t carry anymore.

Your thumb hovered over Bucky’s name in your call list.

You took a shaky breath, your hand trembling as you opened the pill bottle and poured a handful into your palm. The tiny capsules felt cold and smooth against your skin, the sharp contrast to the heat of your tears that dripped onto your hand. You swallowed.

Your other hand shook as you pressed Bucky’s name on your phone.

The line rang once. Twice. Each ring stretched out into eternity, the sound pounding against your chest like a heartbeat.

Finally, his voice came through, warm and familiar, but tinged with concern.

“Y/N?” he said, his tone rising slightly in alarm. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

You tried to speak, but the sobs came first, wracking your body as you pressed the phone to your ear like it was the only thing tethering you to the world.

You tried to speak, but the sobs came first, wracking your body as you held the phone to your ear. “Bucky,” you choked out finally, your voice barely a whisper.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said quickly, his tone steady but urgent.

You clutched the phone tighter “I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, the words breaking something inside you.

There was silence on the other end for a moment, and then his voice came through, strong and determined. “I’m coming over. Right now. Don’t move, okay? Just stay where you are, okay? I’ll be there in ten.”

This is ourselves

-------

Olivia was everything someone could ask for—funny, kind, and effortlessly charming. She told stories with vivid animation, her hands gesturing wildly as she laughed at her own jokes. But no matter how hard Bucky tried to focus, her words barely registered.

The dessert had arrived a few minutes ago, but he hadn’t touched it. His fork lay untouched on the table, his hands clasped in his lap as he forced himself to nod and smile at the right moments. He laughed when he thought he should, added a comment here or there, but his heart wasn’t in it.

Because something felt wrong.

It was a gnawing sensation, deep in his gut, an unease he couldn’t shake. He told himself it was nothing, that he was imagining it, but the weight of it pressed down on him like a stone.

His mind kept drifting back to you. The way you’d looked the last time he saw you—tired, withdrawn, a shell of the vibrant person he knew. The memory clawed at his chest, the guilt twisting tighter with every passing second.

Olivia said something, and he forced a smile, but he was already counting down the minutes until he could leave. He needed to check on you. He didn’t know why, but the thought wouldn’t leave him alone.

Then his phone buzzed on the table.

He barely glanced at the screen before his heart stopped. It was you.

Without thinking, Bucky grabbed his phone so fast that he knocked over his drink, the ice and liquid spilling across the table in a chaotic splash. Olivia gasped, startled by the sudden movement, but he barely noticed.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice rushed, already standing. “I have to take this.”

“Of course,” she said, her eyes wide with concern but understanding.

He didn’t bother stepping away. He answered immediately, pressing the phone to his ear. “Y/N?”

All he could hear was sobbing—raw, broken sobs that sent ice-cold fear coursing through his veins. Then there was the sound of your uneven breathing, as if you were struggling to get air.

“Y/N?” he said again, louder this time, panic tightening his throat. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

“Bucky…” Your voice was faint, choked with tears, barely audible over the sound of your crying.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said, his voice trembling now.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered. His mind was racing, every nerve in his body screaming at him to do something, anything.

He fumbled with his phone, his hands shaking as he opened a text to Sam.

Bucky: Call 911. Send them to Y/N’s apartment. NOW.

Sam’s response came almost instantly:

Sam: What’s going on? On it.

“I kept your promise, Buck,” you said suddenly, your voice slurred and distant. “I’m gonna keep it, okay?”

Bucky was already out the door, his feet pounding against the pavement as he ran. “What promise, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice desperate as he weaved through the crowded New York streets. “Talk to me.”

“The one from high school…” Your voice was weaker now, fading. “Senior year.”

Bucky’s chest constricted. His mind flashed back to that night—the balcony, the wind whipping around you, the way he’d grabbed you and pulled you back with trembling hands. The memory hit him like a freight train, knocking the air from his lungs.

“You kept it,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m so proud of you, angel. You hear me? I’m almost there. Stay with me, okay?”

“The pills, Bucky.... getting sleepy,” you murmured, your words dragging, barely coherent. “I’m sorry, Bucky. It’s better this way. For everyone. I just wanted to hear your voice one last time…”

“No,” he said sharply, tears streaming down his face as he sprinted through the crowded streets, dodging pedestrians and ignoring the blaring horns of cars. “No, baby, don’t say that. Don’t say goodbye. Stay awake. You gotta stay awake for me, okay? Please.”

You didn’t respond right away, and the silence on the other end was deafening.

“Sweetheart,” he said desperately, his voice cracking as his legs burned with the effort of running. “I love you. Please. I love you so much. Don’t leave me. Please. It’s all my fault—please, please.”

Finally, your voice came through, soft and faint, barely more than a whisper. “It’s not your fault… Never your… Love you.”

And then silence.

“No, no, no,” he said, his voice frantic, his chest heaving as he pushed himself to run faster. He kept the phone pressed to his ear, listening to the faint sounds of the emergency responders on the other end—the muffled voices, the banging on your door.

Of course now you lock it, he thought bitterly, tears blurring his vision.

When he reached your apartment building, the flashing lights of ambulances and police cars painted the street in harsh red and blue. A small crowd had gathered, their faces etched with curiosity and concern, but Bucky shoved his way through without hesitation, his lungs burning as he sprinted up the stairs two at a time.

“Move!” he shouted, his voice hoarse as he pushed past the officers at your door.

And then he saw you.

You were lying motionless on the floor, your face pale, your body lifeless as the paramedics worked over you. One of them was performing chest compressions, their hands pressing rhythmically into your chest, while another prepared an oxygen mask.

“NO!” Bucky screamed, his voice shattering as he stumbled forward, his knees threatening to give out beneath him.

One of the paramedics muttered, “Come on. Stay with us.”

Bucky’s world narrowed to the sight of you—your still form, the faint beeping of medical equipment, the paramedic’s steady rhythm. His knees buckled, and he grabbed the edge of the couch to steady himself, his vision swimming as the tears fell harder.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking, barely audible over the chaos. “Please, don’t leave me. I love you. I love you so much. Please.”

But you didn’t move.

Under Pressure

[chaotic-creator]

The 14th Doctor's Adventures

So, it's time for a little theory that may spiral into its own AO3 fic. My theory on what 14 uses his TARDIS for in his own time. Like 15 suggested, he uses it for therapy. 14 chooses his solo travel, not for adventure but for closure.

His first stop is to his oldest friend. He takes the TARDIS back to 2011, wearing a perception filter so he isn't mistaken for 10. And 14 attends the funeral of Brigadier, Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart. He stands in the back, out of sight. He mourns and grieves, letting himself stop and feel. He pays his respects to The Brig and says goodbye, promising to watch over his family. Then he catches sight of Sarah Jane and knows his next stop, another old friend.

He takes the TARDIS forward from 2011 to 2017, from one funeral to another. Still wearing the perception filter, 14 stands on a nearby hill, watching and hearing the funeral of Sarah Jane Smith. And like his old friend Jo Grant said, it breaks both his hearts. 14 leaves a TARDIS key and a version of his sonic screwdriver on Sarah Jane's grave and turns away. Unlike The Brig's funeral, 14's grief over Sarah Jane is raw and quiet. He steps away and simply whispers

"Goodbye. My Sarah Jane" and then leaves for The TARDIS, to a much happier location. 14 uses The TARDIS to attend every single major event he missed from his companions lives.

He visits Jamie McCrimmon back in 19th century Scotland, finding his old friend regained his memories in his twilight years and the two embrace and catch up with each other.

He attends weddings of his friends, Martha and Mickey, Tegan and Nysaa, Jack and River (that one throws him off slightly). He dances and laughs and lets himself feel.

He visits Chiswick in the late 2000s, standing outside the hospital and seeing Donna and Shaun leave, carrying a tiny little baby that he knows will one day be Rose Noble.

He's there for Kate Stewart after her father is gone, explaining how he was there, that he's a future Doctor. 14 lets Kate scream and shout at him and then cry on his shoulder, just holds her.

14 visits Jack Harkness after he lost both his grandson Steven and Ianto Jones and helps his friend. He drags Jack up out of his depression and helps him, even letting Jack hate him and blame him, for which Jack later apologises for.

14 goes back again to 1970's New Jersey and breaks the rules, visiting Amy and Rory in their later life. He meets their adoptive son and talks about everything that's happened to both of them, reassuring them he saved River in the end and spent 24 years in the same place as her at the end of their time together.

While 15 is off amongst the stars, fighting robots and racism and shapeshifters and Gods of Chaos, 14 is bouncing all around Earth, dropping in on old friends and healing broken trust. He goes everywhere, everywhen for everyone. He is The Doctor in a way he never was before. And he loves every minute of it.

@emilythezeldafan @crypt--creature

[samantha80ssuperstar]

All About Me!!!

Hey guys!!! My name is Samantha but everyone calls me Sam or Sammy For short. & I have a lot of interests & Fun things I love to do. I love making Art, seeing the creation that comes from my heart, I love Dancing because it's my Passion, Sing ofc because that's what I Wanna do for the Future.

My Favorite Shows I like to Watch:

Adventure Time

Steven Universe/Steven Universe: The Movie

Regular Show

Powerpuff Girls

Courage The Cowardly Dog

Dexter's Laboratory

Total Drama

My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic

Spongebob Squarepants

Invader Zim

Sanjay & Craig

Hazbin Hotel

Rick & Morty

Helluva Boss

Full House/ Fuller House

Jersey Shore

Family Matters

Everybody Hates Chris

The Amazing World Of Gumball

Teen Titans/ Teen Titans Go

Uncle Grandpa

Clarence

Stranger Things

What We Do In The Shadows

Victorious

That's So Raven

Sam & Cat

Sailor Moon

Dragon Ball Z

Spy X Family

Demon Slayer

Powerpuff Girls Z

My Hero Academia

Care Bears

Rainbow Brite

Reading Rainbow

Smurfs

Tom & Jerry (The Original Series)

Looney Tunes (The Original Series)

The Flintstones

Scooby Doo: Where Are You?

The Jetsons

Yogi Bear

Favorite Movies I Love Watching:

Wicked (2024)

Sonic The Hedgehog 1,2,3 (2020 ,2022, 2024)

M3GAN (2023)

Shrek 1, 2, 3, 4 (2001, 2004, 2007, 2010)

Puss In Boots (2012) Puss In Boots: The Last Wish (2022)

Madagascar (2005), Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa (2008) Madagascar 3: Europe's Most Wanted (2012)

Legend (1985)

Big Trouble In Little China (1986)

Mannequin (1987)

Back To The Future (1985)

Flahsdance (1983)

Dirty Dancing (1987)

Mommie Dearest (1981)

Home Alone, Home Alone 2: Lost In New York (1990, 1992)

The Breakfast Cub (1985)

Pretty In Pink (1986)

Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)

The Goonies (1985)

Ladyhawke (1986)

Stephen Kings IT (1990)

IT (2017) IT: Chapter II (2019)

Child's Play 1, 2, 3, 4 (1988, 1990, 1991, 1998)

Nightmare On Elm Street 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 (1984, 1985, 1987, 1988, 1989, 1991, 1994)

SCREAM 1,2,3,4,5,6 (1996, 1997, 2000, 2011, 2022, 2023)

The Last Dragon (1985)

The Karate Kid 1, 2, 3, 5 (1984, 1986, 1989, 2010)

How The Grinch Stole Christmas (2000)

The Lord Of The Rings: The Fellowship Of The Ring, The Two Towers, The Return Of The King (2001, 2002, 2003)

I, Robot (2004)

The Pirates Of The Caribbean: The Curse Of The Black Pearl

Maleficent (2014)

Honey, I Shrunk The Kids!!! (1989)

Things I Like To Do:

Drawing some Art

Listening to some 80s Freestyle, Hip-Hop, Bollywood, Rock, Reggaethon , Salsa, Brazilian Music

Hanging out with my Buddies Online

Dancing to Just Dance Videos or TikTok Videos

Going Out to Dinner or Special Places like Carowinds, Myrtle Beach

Having Movie Nights With My Mom

My Favorite Apps I Like Being On:

YouTube

TikTok

Discord

Tumblr

Favorite Foods:

Pizza

PB N J Sandwich

Spaghetti & Meatballs

Meatloaf

Macaroni & Cheese

Chicken & Nuggets & French Fries

Burger (With No Cheese)

Steak & Mash Potatoes

Chicken & Rice

Chocolate Cake

Chocolate Chip Cookies

Oreos

Chocolate Muffins

KitKats

M&Ms

Hershey's Milk Chocolate

Reese's Peanut Butter Cups

Chocolate Ice Cream

Favorite Singers/Rappers/Groups/Bands:

Michael Jackson

Madonna

Lionel Richie

Whitney Houston

George Michael

Lady Gaga

Rihanna

Ice Spice

Megan Thee Stallion

Gorillaz

Franz Ferdinand

Katy Perry

P!NK

Olivia Rodrigo

Taylor Swift

Bruno Mars

SZA

Adele

Ariana Grande

Cynthia Erivo

Billie Eilish

Brandy & Monica

TLC

Cyndi Lauper

Gloria Estefan

Laura Branigan

Missy Elliot

XXXtentacion

Post Malone

My Old Post Is @80ssuperstar Check It Out!!

My YouTube Page:

Here's a little of some Face Reveals: (P.S. Yes I made a Sonic The Hedgehog Drawing!)

For: @sugar-miss1 @franmxm16, @nicomxm23, @isrrael120, @siinhorhy, @nightmarereverie, @camilitamaellard, @pinkcandycatmakesart, @apollothedeity, @anifaz, @gootie, @orchestralauthor, @kiko2032, @tuxedocatfamily, @marcanimation, @charly235, @loudlyhappycupcake, @untitled14360, @sleepi-toasti, @br333, @nwn222, @moonlighteclipse17, @groovyathletefestivalegg, @cleislaspiderbat, @cariondrawing

[skullislandproductions]

Post-it note storyboards from the episode “Working Duck” of “The Looney Tunes Show,” 2011. Daffy’s tirade after being fired from his security guard gig for falling asleep during a robbery, he’s not a robot after all. “Am I made of metal? Do I blink my robot eyes? Do I eat nuts and bolts for breakfast? No. I eat a breakfast burrito. Every day. Name one robot that eats a breakfast burrito everyday. You can’t. And do you know why you can’t? Because robots don’t have souls!”-Daffy Duck

[cityof2morrow]

Anno2070-to-Sims2: Eco Production Buildings

Published: 2-4-2025 | Updated: N/A SUMMARY This is a collection of hood deco - eco production buildings from Anno 2070 (Ubisoft, 2011), including 40+ factories, farms, fields, and seasonal crops. I’ve edited them to work better with my desert landscape, but they should be suitable for all neighborhood types. Several crops change based on the season – I like to think of this “crop rotation” as an eco-friendly detail. Find more anno-to-sims2 content under the #co2anno hashtag.

DETAILS Requires all EPs/SPs (may work w/ only 1-2 EPs). §0 | Hood Deco > Effects/Misc Buildings light up partially in night/hood view. There are some texture quirks since these are not meant for larger meshes. Also, these buildings are not repo’d/compressed. Some building footprints are OFFSET because they are meant to be placed over sunken ground. Use “modifyneighborhoodterrain on/off” cheats to lower the terrain. Then, place the offset structure over the hole. ITEMS -crops range from 25 to 1584 poly across seasons; except the rice-soy is higher at 2640 poly -poly count ranges below apply to all other buildings Bakery/Pasta (2965), Basalt (965-1194), Biopolymer (2260), Cogeneration/Thermal Power (3914), Communicator/Electronics (2249), Corn (1450-1496), Dairy (1023-2384), Flour Mill (7483, HIGH), Fruit (2569-2608), Glassworks (1755), Grain (941-1636), Health Drink/Food (2703-3598), Hologram Projector (4275), Rice-Soy (1307-2189), Robot (5094), Solar (1276-3200), Tea (2884-3092), Tree (2196), Vegetable (1432-1444), Windparks (1848-1937). DOWNLOAD (choose one) from SFS | from MEGA COMPATIBILITY -Some buildings/crops have a few unused resources in the package files. I left these in since I’ll be using them as templates for other projects. -As I build up my neighborhood, I may re-size some buildings. If so, I’ll consider offering alt downloads as I did with residence buildings. neighborhood views...

pics from LOT VIEW with deco/neighbors turned on...

CREDITS Thanks: Simming, Blender, Github, and Anno Fan communities. Sources: Beyno (Korn via BBFonts), EA/Maxis, Offuturistic Infographic (Freepik), Anno 2070 (Ubisoft, 2011), Anno 2070 Buildings, Anno 2070 Wiki, Sangwiss (2014).

[burb-ie]

OKAY MORE INFODUMPING YAY

Anyways, transformers animated lore is very interesting to me because of how both sides kinda suck

The Autobots have that whole project omega thing, where they made ships whose sole purpose was to be war machines who needed handlers to keep them from squishing the Autobots.

Perceptor in this universe actually deleted all his emotions to make more room for SCIENCE, and this is even reflected in his brief appearances in the show where he’s voiced with a text-to-speech program. It’s unclear how much of him is even left in there, as he seems only dedicated to science but it still seen as the head of the Autobot science division

Autobots in general are also pretty disgusted by organics, which is usually played for laughs (giant robots afraid of small humans), but they seem to not be able to distinguish between sapient and non-sapient organic species and deem them all disgusting. However, this isn’t universal since our main Autobot team doesnt show this revulsion at all even at the start.

The Autobot Commonwealth is basically an alliance between dozens of planets who are protected by the Autobot fleet. It’s dedicated to protecting the people, who can travel between planets freely, but do seemingly live under Autobot authority. There’s even a long list of planets in the commonwealth from the Almanac, is crazy how many names they just came up with that are barely ever mentioned.

The Autobots also have a very function based society, where people are seemingly free to choose their jobs but it seems they believe they are limited by what they can do from their programming.

One interesting fact is that Autobot frame types are reused a lot to explain why some bots look the same or similar (which is mentioned briefly in the show) - Bumblebee is a very common type, the 65356-9292-346 which is stated to be very fuel efficient. There is quite a bit of variation within these types though.

They also have the Autotroopers, who act as police in Cybertron. They are all identical in body shape and voice, which has an actual explanation! On the back of their toy box (Autotrooper 2011 toy) it’s stated that Autobots go through a remoulding process into their uniform shell, which was made specifically for this role, and that in times of war they can be brought under the direct command of the current Magnus. So… yeah, Autobots have an explicitly militaristic police force.

This reformatting is also something stated again in the Allspark Almanac, as the TFA version of Drift (he’s from the comics) used to be a decepticon and specifically got a new body when he became an Autobot. (Speculation ahead) So this disparity between Decepticons and Autobots isn’t just coincidental, it’s actively enforced.

On the other side of the conflict, there’s the Decepticon Empire:

During the Great War, Decepticons conquered numerous Autobot colonies but lost them all by the end of the war and were driven out into the rim of the galaxy. However, they rebuilt as a smaller empire (much smaller than the Autobot Commonwealth) and have a new capital planet of New Kaon.

Sentinel Minor in the Allspark Almanac (before he became a Prime) says that the Decepticons have five times less the industrial capacity of the Autobots, which is believable considering they have much less planets and are seemingly struggling to survive (New Kaon is said to be a very unimpressive capital, and their main goal is to conquer the home planet of Cybertron).

There are also Decepticons scattered across the galaxy after the war, in hiding.

I won’t recount the full backstory of Cybertron, but it’s all on the TFWiki in the Animated continuity section on the Decepticon page or in the Allspark Almanac II, but basically Decepticons are imperialists who want to expand and conquer the galaxy. When Megatron took control of the Decepticons, the tensions between the Decepticons and Autobots reached a boiling point and the Great War started.

They created a few biological weapons like cosmic rust, so they’re definitely not against war crimes.

My memory might be flagging here, but we actually don’t know much about the Decepticon society or if there are even any Decepticons who aren’t warriors. Since Autobots are obviously not trustworthy, it’s left up to interpretation. Theyre definitely some sort of dictatorship though, and see native species like humans as collateral damage at best.

They might be more tolerant of organics, since the character Blackarachnia is one of the generals, but we aren’t given any ideas since none of their colony planets have any info in general.

Blackarachnia, who’s introduced in the show, was the one who surgically made Blitzwing a triple changer. Blitzwing used to be a seeker, but the surgery made him extremely unstable and “fractured his mind”. This isn’t really expanded on though (Blackarachnia did have an episode idea in season 4, though we don’t know if it would’ve expanded on this)

Not everything might not be important, but I find it all interesting in fleshing out the world of Animated! (Also I’m totally gonna send an ask about the start of the war in animated, but you can find it also on the TFwiki). I also tried to avoid spoilers for the show lol.

omg waking up to this is the best thing to ever happen, I once again thank you for this infodump I am absorbing this all like a sponge, and ill see how I can use this in the crossover AU, also if you wanna send me an ask telling me about the start of the war then youre free to do so! im enjoying these alot

[transformers-mosaic]

Transformers: Beast Wars - Second Chances - Page 13

Originally posted on February 2nd, 2011

Story - Shaun Flaherty Art - Daniel Olsén Letters - HdE

deviantART

wada sez: “It’s over... finished!” is a Furmanism, obviously. See below for Flaherty’s original script and a sketch by Olsén.

PAGE THIRTEEN (six panels)

Panel 1.  Inside the wreckage of the Nemesis.  Inferno (robot mode) emerges from a Predacon creation/restoration tank.

Reference: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=meQV1KKTgKQ (2:46) wada sez: dead link Inferno (Seibertron) Inferno (TFWiki) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4s7ACyr4lro (0:28) wada sez: dead link

CAP: The Nemesis.

CAP/DEPTH CHARGE: “What’s wrong with you idiots --”

Panel 2.  Depth Charge (robot mode) explains the situation to Inferno and Quickstrike (robot mode), but he finds them incredibly frustrating.  By this point, all three have been fully restored.

Reference: Depth Charge (Seibertron) Depth Charge (TFWiki) Quickstrike (Seibertron) Quickstrike (TFWiki)

DEPTH CHARGE: -- don’t you get it?

DEPTH CHARGE (continued): Unless you help me stop that army, it’s over.

DEPTH CHARGE (continued): Finished!

DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): Oh, don’t make me puke.

Panel 3.  Inferno and Quickstrike stare vacantly at us.  They are unmoved.

DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): You know the magic words.

DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): Say ‘em.

Panel 4.  A close-up of Depth Charge’s face.  He takes a shot in the dark.

DEPTH CHARGE: …

DEPTH CHARGE (continued): Defend the colony?

Panel 5.  A close-up of Inferno’s face.  He unleashes a battle cry.

INFERNO: Defend the colony!

Panel 6.  In the background, Inferno rockets into the air, carrying a reluctant Quickstrike by the “scruff” of his neck; they exit through a jagged breach in the hull of the Nemesis.  In the foreground, Depth Charge rests his face in his open hand, exasperated.

QUICKSTRIKE: Hey --

QUICKSTRIKE (continued): Hey!  I ain’t defendin’ squat.

QUICKSTRIKE (continued): Set me down, ya big lummox!

DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): See?  I knew you had it in you --

DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): -- me.

[brooklynisher]

Hey all, you ever hear of Jaunty?

[x]

Do you WANT to learn more about Jaunty?

Well I dug deep, and found some things I never thought I could find. I'm really excited to share what I've found with y'all. This post is sort of a little journey of how I found Jaunty.

There's a few sections to this.

Skip to But where does Jaunty come from? If you just want answers

Is Jaunty even a real character?

Jaunty, from what I originally found, is SUPPOSEDLY a Steam Powered Giraffe character. But where have we seen this character before? Was it the comic? Was it the timeline? Maybe in a song cover? Does the band ever talk about Jaunty?

And to answer all of your questions, no! At least not that I knew of. The only source of Jaunty’s existence is here.

The Steam Powered Giraffe Wiki

So that makes this whole thing pretty complicated right? The wiki has info, and it’s not too inaccurate most of the time, but some of the lesser known/more nuanced information tends to get scuffed.

It really doesn’t help knowing that David has mentioned before that the information on the wiki wasn't that accurate.

What I’m saying is, the only proof we have for the existence of this character is on what might be one of the more unreliable sources of SPG information.

But despite that, this page is special in the fact that SUPPOSEDLY it was uploaded by Steam Powered Giraffe themselves!

[x]

However, there isn’t really much of any information on this user at all. All we know is that they founded this wiki, added a few characters and a bit of information, and then became inactive. Really our biggest reasoning for believing that this was an actual SPG member is the fact that they are the founder and have been around for a very long time.

Okay, suspicions aside, let’s see what I found about this thing.

What the wiki tells us

One, this image was touched by the founder of this wiki twice, it was uploaded in 2011, and in 2014 they protected the page, which means only the administrators can edit the page.

[x]

Both are pretty major years for SPG being the year Upgrade left the band and the year Rabbit transitioned, but there’s not many connections you can make with that.

This user was first active in 2010 and last seen in 2015 [x]

Cool dates to have, but not a lot to work with. It mainly gives us a clear vision of what SPG was looking like at the time of the creation of this page. I can see this thing being used for a special, slightly themed show.

Of course, the information the wiki alone offers is very limited, but we know two things for sure. One, this character is a robot being under the category of robots, and two, these photos were taken by Cineria.

[x]

So, here's the problem, you'd think that by having the name of the photographer, we could get far with that, but unfortunately, it is such a vague name, that there is just no way we could figure out who Cineria actually is. It really doesn't help that they don't seem to be a professional photographer. The only page I could find that connects both the name Cineria and Steam Powered Giraffe is this one.

Useless information

I started searching for stuff by reverse searching it. It wasn't really successful, as I was expecting, but I did find one thing.

A different source.

This source doesn't go anywhere must you know. The ORIGINAL site, florist.buketbunga.com is still up an active serving as an Indonesian site for selling flowers, but this very specific link is broken, and the Wayback Machine doesn't know a thing about it.

The good news is, the link title alone gives us a ton of stuff to work with! Appropriately, the last part of this link translates to "Flower Bouquet Florist Shop Address Nearest 24 Hours Online", which makes sense.

What DOESN'T make sense is everything else coming before it. Specifically the Team Fortress 2 Wiki. This made me believe that someone used these sites to create a scam link, but it's weird because somehow, it's relevant?

Yandex was able to match these images of Jaunty to this site, and what's crazier, Jaunty is in the title of the link! But it's not just Jaunty, it's the Jaunty Explorer.

I did some searching, and discovered that the Jaunty Explorer originates from a TF2 livestream charity event called Tip of the Hats! Donations can earn you medals known as the Jaunty Explorer ($10 Donations), the Jaunty Ranger ($30 Donations), and the Jaunty Mountaineer ($100 Donations). They can come in many different color variations, but here are the main ones.

[x] [x] [x]

There are TWO connections between this and SPG. One, the shared name of Jaunty, and two, hats. Steam Powered Giraffe is pretty big on hats. But, bad news, these are completely unrelated. Main reasoning? The image of Jaunty was posted to the wiki back in 2011, while Tip of the Hats as an event started back in 2013. Can't even take the "SPG was inspired by TF2" route with that.

Okay, but what even IS it?

Now we get into the visual aspect of this!

I tried to see if there was at least any way to identify what this is, but that solely relies on observational skills. There are two images of this thing, but the image with the blue background is much easier to make out.

[x]

There's a lot that's going on with the design of Jaunty. Unfortunately, I'm not smart enough to identify what half of the doodads are. This machine, whether it's an actual machine or just a prop, is definitely a one of a kind as I couldn't find anything like this.

I talked with @boneinator about this, and he was able to read the text: "STAND CLEAR!" on the top of the doors of this machine which lead him to believe that it might be a time machine of sorts.

What we both managed to agree on when it came to the design of this thing however, was that it looks like a cabinet.

Now, like I said, this thing has a one of a kind design, so it's not going to look exactly like one thing or another, but it has similar features to other things such as to this cabinet

[x]

Two longer doors on the upper half, and two smaller doors/drawers on the bottom. Is that actually what it is? I didn't know, but there is a resemblance.

One thing that's REALLY interesting about this machine is the intense amount of steam it lets out.

[x]

So it's definitely a very active machine.

But where does Jaunty come from?

Something I've been wondering is how much of this is actually connected to SPG.

Is it theirs? Is this a part of a bigger thing? Is it just associated with them?

A bigger thing. There is one example of a big SPG show that comes to mind, and it was not just them.

During their 15 Year Anniversary Livestream, the band was asked about their favorite memories. Bunny mentions that one of her favorite memories was at a show called Clockwork Vaudeville. This was one of the band's first time having a massive audience. According to her, this was a time traveling show, and they performed alongside others.

I looked into it and found that the full name of this performance is called Clockwork Vaudeville Circus Cabaret. And there, I found a little advertisement for it as well!

The Kickstarter for this show started in late 2010

I did some more searching and realized there is a bunch of video from this show out there though all these clips are recorded at random intervals. Assuming that the uploader posted these clips close to the date of the actual show, we can see that this show took place in February of 2011!

About one month after this show, this page was added to the wiki.

I checked the clips, and guess what.

[x]

Right there in the corner, there was Jaunty.

But that's not all

Not only have a found a video that contained Jaunty, I found a video that contained Jaunty in action!

[x]

Unbelievably enough, it was a video of the band performing Honeybee alongside a pole dancer. And thanks to the title, we now know that this show took place February 19, 2011

Which all this confirms 100% that Jaunty IS a time machine.

Now with all things considered, Jaunty is not necessarily an "SPG character" as in they didn't create it. It's hard to say if Jaunty is even a character at all at this point! But it does exist in their world and they actively interact with it!

Who cheered? I cracked the code!

[fernsnailz]

Do you have a favorite retro robot? Like robbie from lost in space or gort from the day the earth stood still

hmm there's honestly a lot of older robot media that i still need to check out so my list is pretty limited! i really need to watch more things that have some guy in a bulky robot suit it's so awesome

i do really love k9 from doctor who.... he's my buddy. my best friend. my ride or die

and i LOVE 80s robot from the 2011 muppets movie.... like technically i guess he's not like RETRO retro since that movie is fairly recent but he's very heavily inspired by the omnibot 2000 so it's retro by design i guess

[itpemod]

#ITPE 2024 MASTERLIST!

(This has also been crossposted to the Amplificathon DW community)

(If you'd like to see previous years' master lists, 2011 is here, 2012 is here, 2013 is here, 2014 is here, 2015 is here, 2016 is here, 2017 is here, 2018 is here, 2019 is here, 2020 is here, 2021 is here, 2022 is here, and 2023 is here.)

Happy 14th annual #ITPE/technically 1st Informal Tumblr Podfic Exchange!!!! Thank you for bearing with us in our switch to a new platform! We’ve had a few hiccups but now that we know where those are, future years will hopefully run much more smoothly!

Here’s some stats and highlights from this year’s #ITPE!

We had 81 participants this year, and you made 313 podfics (including some ~sekrit~ gifts not available on the masterlist) for a total run time of 140 hours, 59 minutes, and 4 seconds–that’s over FIVE DAYS of audio!

We have 4 simulpods this year! Which is less than we expected, given some of the niche fandoms and crossovers we matched y’all on, so congratulations on finding a diversity of fics to record! @sunshineprincejeremyknox | @flowerparrish and @jeremyknox | @kbirbpods were responsible for two of those simulpods, one which they gifted to each other and the other which they both gifted to the same person. @eafay70 and @tinybluebirdcloak both gifted the same fic to @read-by-silverandblue. Finally, @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove and @rhea314 both recorded the same fic for different participants!

While #ITPE encourages participants to embrace the no-minimums, low-stress vibe, some of y’all do like to Do the Most, and we like to recognize extraordinary effort when we see it!

@opalsong, usually a notorious podfic robot, has had a lot going on this year in terms of school and was worried she would not be able to hit the productivity highs of previous years. So we, as mods, thought, “Great! We know what to do! We’ll match her with someone on one very specific OT3 that this recipient has been requesting for years, in a fandom not especially known for blanket permission, and that way Opal won’t feel compelled to make a bajillion podfics because the pool will be so small! We are solving so many problems with this match!” And we thought we were so clever! Only for Opalsong to find a 90k fanfic and turn in a 12 hour podfic. Well. We tried! But clearly Opalsong is going to Opalsong. <3

By far our most prolific gifter this year was @sunshineprincejeremyknox | @flowerparrish, who not only made 6 gifts for zir recipient (including a 4 hour podfic), but also 31 treats. Not far behind was @mistbornhero who made 7 main gifts and 23 treats! @jeremyknox | @kbirbpods made 4 main gifts and 18 treats! We also had generous treaters in @wanderingjedihistorian, @reena-jenkins, @blackestglass, @pezzax, and @wilfriede! Plus, honorable mentions to @daisydiversions and @annabelle-myrtille for the 10 and 6 hour (respectively) podfics they made for their recipients!

Finally, we'd like to extend some thank you’s to:

-Data mod flowersforgraves for converting all the sign up data to airtable which makes matching so much easier. -Asymptotical and Dragonflies_and_Katydids for creating the coding we used to generate distribution day templates. -Everyone who offered to pinch hit, especially sunshineprincejeremyknox | flowerparrish and @jetainia, though thankfully we did not end up needing them to fulfill those pinch hits! -And as always, @exmanhater for ITPE’s permanent hosting

Now let’s get on to what you’re really here for…..the masterlist!! Here’s the masterlist spreadsheet for this year’s exchange!

Happy listening!!!