#still a lot left to be done + that white people need to actually listen

[darlinimamess]

i Love when they give minority characters their own episodes to highlight what they go through

[teaboot]

I seriously hope you can job hop to something else cause you're not chaotic neutral man.

You're still a white Canadian whose actions and job help more the megacorps keep the status quo.

I really looked up to you but that's on me.

And yeah, I know security, cop shit and military pay good money but at the cost of my people? Fuck no.

Listen. I feel you. But there's a lot of cold, power-tripping bastards in this line of work and if I stick where I am then they don't get to have that.

I'm not a cop. I am not beholden to the justice system. Sometimes I get contracted out to people who say shit like "addicts should be put down, if you see any crackheads drag them out" and I nod and say "yes sir", and then I take their money and use it to buy those people coffee and a sandwich and tell 'em when free lunch days are at the church.

Boss sees me walking with someone and thinks I'm kicking them out, gives my boss great reviews. I'm having a great conversation with Connie, who used to by a stylist and wound up on the street after an accident that left her with chronic pain and a heroin addiction. Connie learns that there's a gap between two property lines nearby where technically nobody can call to have her removed.

There's a really sweet guy in town who's normally very nice, but sometimes flies into paranoid rage and yells slurs at people. Sometimes he forgets he's been banned from places and wanders in looking for a wife he hasn't had for nine years. Owner sends me to kick him out, and I ask "hey Mike, how are you?" And see where we are today.

One time there was a guy whose abusive ex kept following him to work, and I got to walk him to his car at the end of every day to make sure she couldn't get him alone.

Another person had a stalker who kept asking receptionists when she was gonna be there, when she was supposed to leave, if she was in today. I'd keep record of every time he came in, every time someone saw him, every time he violated his restraining order or damaged her things.

And when I wonder if I'm actually helping or not, or if I'm part of the greater problem, I remember that other people who work with me call homeless people wildlife and talk about how bad they wanna get an excuse to fight someone and I remember that I'm the one who knows where the blind spots on the cameras are, and thank God it's not him.

My position is fundamentally different from that of the military or law enforcement. I don't *need* to be buddy-buddy with most of these dickheads- I don't *need* to send people into the justice system.

I do single-person foot patrol. Nobody cares how I get the job done. They say, "Hey, faceless goon number three- make that bastard disappear" and I say "on it, boss" and give him tickets to disney world.

I once asked another guard if he knew that one of our regulars used to be an airplane technician. He said, "No, I don't talk to them". Blanket "Them". "Them" as in street people. "Them" as in addicts, or shoplifters, or ex-cons, or sex workers.

I asked why, and he told me, "it's easier if you don't think of them as people."

Anyhow, now I get calls to "watch that sketchy lady who just came in" and I say, "yes, sir" and leave her the fuck alone, 'cause that's Jolene, and people always think she's on drugs and aggressive but she's just deaf in one ear and slurs cause she has brain damage, you dickhead

so yeah, don't worry, I've spent a lot of time weighing the pros and cons of my vocation, and I still think I'd rather be in charge of my locations than someone like Darryl, who dreams of "cuffing a perp" and drives a car with Punisher decals on the hood

Also it's minimum wage but that's kinda tangential

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 2 - ( c.s )

part one

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, kissing, that’s it i think

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: PART TWOOOOO!!!! i hope u guys like this series i’m having a lot of fun with it (and s/o to my girl @cutenote for letting me use her name). self-indulged this chapter and made the reader a flyers fan so SRY but anyways, enjoy! next thing im putting out is a matt request and then i’ll be working on this series and the tattooartist!reader x matt series. if you have other reqs, questions, confessions, etc, my inbox is open 🫶🏻

@cutenote @mattsmunch @mattybsbitch @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss

your stomach flips as you stare in the mirror, twisting and turning every which way to make sure you look alright. you’re in one of chris’s jerseys, repping the scarlet and white colors of boston university, complete with the little ‘C’ emblem for captain.

he left it in your mailbox earlier on his way to the arena, demanding that you wear it instead of the BU sweatshirt you had planned on going in. so you listened to him, even though you’re not really sure why.

your hair and makeup are all done, contrary to the last time chris saw you, when you were in his house threatening to call the cops. it feels performative, getting all dressed up for something you don’t even want to go to.

but what the hell, you hadn’t seen the team play at all this year, and if you look your best you’ll feel your best. at least, that’s what you convinced yourself would happen.

“are you done up there? we need to leave, games gonna start soon!” one of your roommates calls from the living room.

you sigh and turn away from your own reflection so you can head for the stairs. cassidy and ramona are both waiting for you on the couch as you round the corner, also decked out in BU merch.

you’re just lucky you had been able to convince them both to come with you, so you don’t have to stand by yourself.

“took you long enough.” cassidy mumbles under her breath as she stretches her legs and stands up.

mona mimicks her movements, but not without shooting her a glare. “be nice, she’s obviously nervous.”

“no i’m not!” you protest, and now they both give you an eye roll as they pass you to get their coats from the closet.

“your voice just went up ten octaves.” cass snarks.

you are anxious, but it’s just because of the unknown. you still haven’t figured out what chris is angling at, besides maybe sleeping with you, which isn’t gonna happen. well, probably not at least.

no, not ever. oh my god.

“i’m not nervous. i just wish i could back out.” you double down, turning to see them both pulling on their big winter jackets.

“you used to love hockey, you just don’t like chris. one game won’t kill you.” ramona replies.

“and you also didn’t have to agree.”

this accusation makes your face flush, in embarrassment and in denial. “he wouldn’t have stopped that party if i didn’t. and you know i could never actually call the cops.”

ramona stays silent as cass laces up her shoes. “whatever you say babe. you look cute in his jersey either way.”

“cassidy!” you whine in exasperation.

“i’m honestly not sorry.”

the entire walk to the get to the game is spent harassing you, which is a solid twenty minutes because you live off campus. ramona does try to keep it to a minimum, though you can’t really blame them for the questions. you have them too.

it’s always been weird with you and chris. you hate his attitude, how people fall to his feet like he’s some sort of god. you can’t stand the way he talks to you like he can read your mind, or how you always catch him staring at your lips just so he can pretend like he wasn’t.

he does it to every girl, and you don’t know why he’s taking all of these extra steps to try and get you into bed.

maybe because you see through it, and you don’t want any part of him. he said it himself, he doesn’t want a relationship, and you’re not looking to get an STD, so you don’t know why he’s bothering.

you finally arrive at the facility, and your stomach flips. tons of people are out tonight, of course. the sun is long gone with it being winter and all, so the lights are extra overwhelming as you step inside.

you head through security and scan your passes, ones that are specifically right beside the student section in the very front. chris gifted them to you for free since you didn’t get season tickets, right by the glass so he knows where you are.

even when you were a pain in the ass and insisted you needed two more for your roommates, he made it work. it was a little impressive.

you find your seats, and the boys are already on the ice warming up. you spot chris from the jersey number, 3, and you can see his long hair poking out from underneath his helmet.

he’s focused on taking a practice shot, but as he skates by the glass afterwards you see him looking, like he isn’t sure if you showed up. but then he finds you, and you can actually see his stupid smile.

he waves, just a tiny one, before he goes right back to drills. you’re thankful he didn’t make it dramatic, because you know there’s plenty of girls in the stands who want him, and have probably already been with him.

you each take your coats off and hang them on your chairs. you know the fact that you having his last name plastered across your back doesn’t help the attention, but people can think what they want.

you don’t give a fuck. cassidy was right, it’s cuter on you anyways.

they head into the locker room quickly after your arrival, and even more people fill in to watch the show. the student section is loud as the facility finally goes dark, and the team skates back onto the ice moments later.

spotlights flood the stadium, highlighting different players as both teams line up along the neutral zone. you cheer extra loud when they announce the starting lineup and call chris’s name, even despite your vendetta against him.

no use being a shitty fan if you’re already here.

they get ready for the face off after the national anthem, and BU gets the puck. it’s back and forth for a while, and you find yourself groaning and cheering with the rest of the crowd during every play.

the first goal of the game is scored within fifteen minutes, by one of his other roommates ben, of all people. you and your friends are jumping around like maniacs, and you can see him laughing at you guys after they’re all done celebrating on the ice.

it makes you wonder if chris told them you’d be here, but you force yourself to eat the popcorn cass bought and stop thinking about it.

the second period begins and BU keeps possession for most of it, pretty much dominating their opponent. in the final thirty seconds, chris drives down the rink to score another goal.

you throw your hands up without thinking, and you let the excitement take over. “fuck yeah!”

cassidy and ramona are screaming too, shaking you by the shoulders wildly.

he comes skating over, pointing right at you as he does a lap near the student section. heads turn, and you can literally feel people staring at you now, even despite the noise and the chaos.

but you’re alive, and you can’t get enough of this environment, so you keep cheering for him regardless of the burning feeling of eyes on you.

“that was cute.” ramona nudges you with a genuine smile, and you’re fighting your own grin as you shake your head.

“whatever.”

the rest of the game is swift. your goalie makes a couple great saves, and a guy named dylan, who you’ve met before at parties, scores the final point of the night.

it just twists the knife further, because it’s a total shutout. the fans go wild as the final buzzer sounds, and you’re right there with them. you relish in the lights, the feeling.

you really did miss watching hockey in person. and you can’t even say you necessarily hate watching chris anymore. there’s just something about the way he skates, so locked in on the game.

he’s a threat, to be completely honest, and you kind of love it.

“that was fucking crazy.” cassidy is beaming happily as you guys gather your things ten minutes post-game, and ramona nods along.

“we’re gonna have to do this more often.” she glances at you with hope.

“hey, don’t look at me. i’m in it for the free tickets, and i’m not sure how long that’ll last.” you’re lying through your teeth, because you enjoyed it just as much.

but again. who knows what he’s really trying to do here.

“you could give him the benefit of the doubt.” mona suggests dryly.

“does he really deserve it? he’s going to think he’s the shit either way.” you point out, and she goes quiet.

“maybe that’s true, but i’ve never heard of him doing whatever that celebration was with other girls.” cassidy takes over, and she’s honestly check-mated you.

it is strange, because when you watched games last season, before you had chris as your neighbor, before you even really knew of him, you hadn’t ever seen that. and from current knowledge, you’re pretty sure he had a short term girlfriend during one of those months.

“touché, i guess.” you grumble, and as if right on que your phone vibrates in your pocket.

chris

wait for me, 15 mins max

ramona and cassidy take the bus home, leaving you on your lonesome as the crowd clears out slowly but surely.

you can hear girls whispering about you as they walk by, but it’s not even worth it. you’re not scared of what they have to say. maybe when you were younger, you would have reacted, but it’s just displaced jealousy anyways.

they don’t even know the truth.

finally, after what feels like a painful amount of time, you get a text from chris with directions toward the locker rooms.

it’s far more quiet now as you make your way to the ground level of the arena, headed to the section of the rink you know is closed off to pretty much everyone else. there’s a guy standing there, dressed in his black shirt with the facility logo on it.

he goes to stop you, but chris comes strutting through the hall, out of uniform now. his brown hair is all messy, and he’s dressed down in a matching black sweat set.

“she’s cool, i have a pass for her.”

he walks right up to you, looping a red lanyard over your head. his fingertips brush the skin of your neck as he collects your hair with his hands, flipping it out from underneath the string for you.

it’s a small thing. his touch is barely there, and yet it still burns.

the security guy smiles at you as you follow chris down the hall. you’ve never been back here before, and you have to admit it’s kind of cool.

you can see where the arena workers go on and off the ice, and the large garage type doors that let the zambonis in and out.

“so.” he breaks the silence, and you almost jump at the sound of his voice.

you were in your own world, and you kind of forgot what was actually going on here.

“so.” you parrot, waiting for him to continue as he leads you around a corner.

“looked like you actually had fun for once.” chris jokes, and you shove his shoulder half-heartedly.

“shut up, i’ve always liked hockey. you though? i’m not so sure.” you give him a look and he opens his mouth like he’s shocked.

“come on, i pointed you out after my goal and everything. you’re telling me you didn’t like it even a little?”

you liked it more than you care to admit, so you don’t. “it’s gonna take more than that to impress me, christopher, but i will say it was a good game.”

“you might just be our lucky charm.” chris glances at you out of the corner of the corner of his eye as he slows to a stop in front of the locker room.

you cross your arms over your chest. “now you're just patronizing me.”

“always assuming the worst.”

“well, you make it easy.” you tease.

he pauses to look down at your defensive stance, at his jersey all scrunched up around your body, and you can tell by his smirk that he’s loving it a little too much.

you clear your throat to try and alleviate some of the tension and chris snaps out of it, turning to head through the little entryway.

“i’m gonna grab my bag, don’t go anywhere.”

“you’re my ride, dumbass.” you remind him, and you hear his chuckle reverberate against the walls as he disappears.

a few players head out as you wait, ones you don’t recognize, and they nod at you politely as they chat amongst themselves. it actually takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it.

chris comes back into the hall a minute later, bag slung around his shoulder. he’s got a black bruins beanie on now, and you raise an eyebrow instinctively.

“why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, waving his hand so you follow him further down the wide corridor.

“your hat.” you point, and he looks offended.

“what’s your problem with it?”

“not everyone who goes to school here is actually from boston, genius. i’m a flyers fan.” you smile at him sweetly, and he literally groans.

“how did i not know this?” he asks as you guys reach the door that leads to the team parking lot.

“because you don’t know me.” you reply swiftly.

chris pushes the door open and holds it for you, another move you don’t expect. “i know more than you think.”

you shiver slightly as you step past him into the cold, wrapping your coat around yourself a bit tighter.

“if it helps you sleep at night.” you chirp over your shoulder.

you know his car, a black jeep grand cherokee that you’ve always been a little jealous of, and it’s sitting in the middle of the lot. not many others are still here, and you can hear both of your feet kicking up gravel as you walk.

chris picks up his pace so he can beat you there, swinging the passenger door open before you can do it yourself.

“wow, chivalry’s not dead.” you say blankly, sliding into the seat so he can close you in.

“what can i say, i’m a real gentleman.”

the interior smells like a pine air freshener, which actually isn’t a bad touch. chris walks around so he can toss his bag in the back and get behind the wheel, starting the engine and peeling out of the spot.

it’s quiet for a moment, aside from the music, and you can’t help but peek over at him sitting across from you. the shadows accentuate his striking features as he mumbles lyrics under his breath, nodding his head along ever so slightly.

he looks pretty, and you don’t like it one bit.

“i can feel you staring at me, you know.” chris turns to glance at you for a brief moment before he puts his eyes back on the road.

it makes your palms sweat, because he caught you in the act and now there’s no shying away.

deny, deny, deny.

“just wondering why your face looks like that.”

“what, devilishly handsome?” he smirks.

“i was thinking gremlin-esque, but sure.” you deadpan, and he just shakes his head and laughs lowly.

“so scared of your own feelings. it’s cute.”

it’s a major call-out, and it normally doesn’t phase you. but tonight it’s different. he’s being so fucking strange, and it’s clearly been messing with your head.

“i’m not scared of shit, because the only thing i feel is sorry for all the girls who have actually fallen for this.” you retort, and the frustration is clear in your voice.

“other girls don’t get the princess treatment like you do.” his self-satisfied demeanor doesn’t falter for a second, even despite your low blow.

“yeah, right. i’m sure i’m really special.”

chris grips the wheel tighter as he turns onto your street, and you have to rip your eyes away from his long fingers.

“well you’re the only one who’s ever worn my jersey, so that’s something.” he admits, scratching his neck absentmindedly.

you’re not sure whether you believe it, but this time he actually does sound genuinely nervous. well, nervous for chris.

“and i wear it best too.” you brush some imaginary dust off of your shoulder as he pulls up into his driveway and puts the car in park.

“won’t argue on that one.” he shrugs, shooting you an easy grin.

“that’s surprising.”

you step back out into the crisp night air, slamming the door shut behind you. you meet chris at the front of the car and try to move around him, headed for your own place.

he takes a step to block you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “where are you going?”

you put some distance between your bodies, because he’s once again too close for comfort, and it’s hard to focus on your words when he’s inches from your face.

“home, obviously.”

“why? i thought we were going to hang out.” he frowns.

“nothing good ever happens in your house past nine p.m.”

this makes him smirk. “very good things happen in that house past nine p.m.”

“your charm is irresistible, truly.” you bite back sarcastically, maneuvering around him as you try to ignore the fire burning in your stomach.

you’ve only taken two steps before chris grabs your arm, pulling you back into his chest quickly. his other hand goes to hold the side of your face, tangling in your hair as he leans in close.

his lips ghost over yours, just barely. you can smell the cologne he must have put on after the game, can feel his slight stubble scratching your face, and it’s all too much.

you haven’t been kissed in so long, and right now it doesn’t matter that it’s chris, and that it goes against everything you stand for. your eyes flutter closed and you fill the gap, pressing your mouth against his hard.

it shocks him, so much so that he almost forgets how to do this properly. chris can taste your berry chapstick, and your lips are so much fucking softer than he even imagined.

his tongue slides against yours skillfully, deepening the kiss as he presses his body flush against yours. you can feel his thumb brushing your cheek as your mouths clash together continuously. its passionate and angry and intense, and you can’t believe it’s happening.

why is this happening?

the thought snaps you out of it, and you put your hand on his chest to force him away roughly. chris is surprised, and you’re both slack-jawed and breathing heavily as your body tries to catch up with your brain.

“i…i’m gonna go.” you mumble quietly, because you have no idea what else to say.

“or you could stay.”

“i don’t want to.”

“you’re a terrible liar.” he counters, and you can see how raw and red his lips are even in the moonlight.

you shake your head and turn toward your own front porch. it’s too hard to continue meeting his fiery gaze, because he’s looking at you like he actually needs you.

“goodnight, chris.”

“this isn’t over, you know. one day you’ll finally admit it.” he calls after you, and you don’t gratify him with a response.

there’s nothing that’ll change his mind, especially after you had actually caved in during that moment of weakness. it was so unwarranted, and you’re angry that kissing him didn’t feel as wrong as it should have.

you take the steps two at a time and hurry through the door, closing it behind you and pressing your back to the wood.

your fingers dance across your lips, and you swear you can still feel his mouth on yours.

[artaxlivs]

This is ridiculous.

Eddie has important stuff To Do. He's a busy rockstar with a never ending list of stuff his manager and agent keep reminding him that he needs to get done while he's not on tour.

But. His house is being remodeled. And one of the carpenters or handymen or journey...men? journey people? whatever. One of the dudes in a tool belt. Well - he's hot as all hell and Eddie can't seem to find a single fuck to mark off that To Do list.

Every day this man shows up in jeans that hug his ass, a tool belt slung low to one side and this pristine white polo shirt with a logo over his left pec. The other people - people not men because there are actually three women in the mix, all with arms that could crush Eddie, and if he was into chicks, he'd be looking respectfully - are all in various dark colored shirts with a similar logo on the back or in the same spot on the chest.

But White Polo is the only white polo. White Polo must be in charge. He does seem to give a lot of orders. He's got big sexy hair and a strong voice. The first time Eddie was close enough to hear him talk, he had some feelings about that strong voice giving orders. The kind of feelings he explored later that night in his own bed. Alone.

It's not a mean voice though, not aggressive. Rather, it's the kind of voice that steadies you in a storm, that you can rely on. The kind of voice that probably sounds gravelly and sleep mussed on a Saturday morning. The kind you want to wake up to. The voice that Eddie wants to wake up to.

And it's not just the voice and the looks. It's the competency, too. Earlier this morning, White Polo was helping the crew put some kind of wood frame up. He hammered something in and then twirled the hammer and stuffed it in the tool belt all without looking. That was going directly to Eddie's spank bank. Maybe he could find other things for them to remodel so White Polo never has to leave.

"Mr. Munson?"

Eddie startles, almost dropping his Garfield coffee mug. There's a lot of noise in the house and he was sort of doing one of the things on his list. Writing a song in his head. It was definitely not about a man in a tool belt. Nor was it about anyone getting nailed.

Jesus Christ.

Clearing his throat, Eddie turns to White Polo, "It's just Eddie."

"Well, Just Eddie, I'm Steve." His voice is soft, strong though, with that little bit of gravel. It's not Eddie's fault at all that he's imagining him whispering in Eddie's ear when they're both sleep warm and too comfortable to get out of bed. "Looks like we'll be done here in another two days."

"Oh." He says dejectedly, not meaning to have such an honest reaction but he can't help himself. He's wasted three days just glancing at White Polo - Steve - from afar. Now Eddie's on a time limit. Two days isn't nearly enough time. Would it be inappropriate to invite him to dinner? Or to stay? Ask him for --"Coffee?"

Steve smiles and it's kind of small, like it's a secret smile, just for Eddie. Brushing his hair back over his ear, Steve says, "I shouldn't but...your coffee smells kinda great so...sure."

Grinning, Eddie tells him that he gets the beans from this little mom and pop shop that brews their own beans. The band discovered them on tour years ago and he still gets his beans shipped from them every few months. He's babbling but he can't seem to stop himself, telling Steve about different roasts and his fancy machine that cost more than his first van back when he was sixteen and living in a trailer park.

Leaning against the counter, Steve listens patiently, watching Eddie with hazel eyes and that little smile. He's got these cute moles that Eddie wants to kiss. Broad shoulders he wants to feel pressed up against the backs of his knees.

Shit. He almost spills the coffee when his face suddenly heats up at that.

"Everything okay?" There's concern in Steve's voice and he reaches out to steady Eddie's arm. His callused fingers brush Eddie's arm just over his bat tattoo and...oh.

It's like nothing he's ever imagined. So much more than all the stories. It's the biggest, brightest, most intense thing Eddie's ever felt. Just a brush of fingertips and the spots light up with gold. Three brushes across the bats' wings and a fourth smaller one off to the side. Eddie can feel the tingling on the underside of his forearm where Steve's thumb must have brushed as well.

Surging forward, Eddie cups Steve's cheek, leaving a bright gold palm print on his jaw, a thumb smear up by the cheek bone, bits of gold in the shapes of fingers curling along the side of his throat, and one little dab on the lobe of Steve's ear. Their lips are pressed together before Steve's fully reacted to the soul bond but that's okay. They don't have two days, they've got forever.

A few years later, when Corroded Coffin wins album of the year at the Grammys, Gareth takes the mic away from Eddie as he's doing all the polite thank yous to managers and agents etc - and he thanks Steve, telling the world, "If Steve had never been a hot guy in a tool belt, Eddie would never have written Golden Bats, Hammer of Love or, Eddie's favorite," Gareth says, grinning and leaning really close to the mic like it's a secret, 'cause it kind of is, "Ride the White Polo."

My Masterlist

While there are other gold touch soulmate mark fics, I've only ever read them in @kangofu-cb's Gold on Your Fingertips in the Winterhawk fandom and it will always be both one of my favorite soulmate fics and one of my favorite Clint Barton fics.

[patricia-taxxon]

ok. i cheated, i needed to be told that i was already on the right track. now both outer wilds and void stranger have had a moment where i basically had all the information but the riddle just missed its opportunity to land, creating complete destructive interference with no way of pushing through, because the game had already told me all of its clues and it's not like I could just put the pieces together in a different way. details/spoilers below

so my only lead was the murals, and how they were the same dimension as the brand I was asked to draw at the beginning. I also noticed the suspiciously easy brand-sized rooms, but didn't know what to do with them. zone 5 is actually where i realized that i could form the brand with the tiles after I realized it had the same quantity of tiles as the indents on the mural with one space left over for the stairs. So I made it, after a lot of effort, and continued down. Nothing happened. Now, i really think this was a reasonable assumption to make, that the stairs didn't count, but since nothing happened, I assumed I'd done something wrong. There were two possibilities, either I needed to keep one of the white tiles in my inventory and use the stairs as one of the pixels, OR, since this game has often been cagey about how it works, i needed to repair every mural in one run and it's just not telling me. I had the opportunity to test this on the next 6x6 room, which I noticed was also mostly glass, so I assumed that I shouldn't discriminate between types of tiles and used the stairs as one of the pixels. Still nothing. Okay, so this had to be one of those special constrained runs that people keep telling me about, I need to fix all the murals in one run. Except the eighth mural is blocked off. Okay, nevermind, there was no lead, game over. I was completely out of tools to determine if there was anything to be discovered.

So if you've played the game, you'll know my mistake was not listening to Gor. When Gor told me "when the path to damnation rests within you, place your faith and embrace the void" she actually meant, pick the stairs up with your scepter after you've already marked the brand and then jump in a pit. I assumed "the path to damnation rests within you" meant eating the fruit that demon gives you and getting the bad ending, because the things you pick up with the staff aren't resting within you, the UI shows them resting on the staff. I'd already been directed by the game to just shut the door on this whole brand lead because I'd been punished so thoroughly and I was never going to connect Gor's incantation to it. They just missed the opportunity for me to solve this riddle authentically. the game meticulously shut the door for me.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY GARRUS VAKARIAN, updated version  *  assorted dialogue from the mass effect trilogy, adjust as necessary

i can't find any hard evidence.

good luck, [name]. maybe they'll listen to you.

i'm coming with you.

sometimes it feels like the rules are only there to stop me from doing my work.

i just couldn't take it anymore.

maybe i can get the job done my way for a change.

if you're wrong, we'll pay for it. but if you're right, and we did nothing, i think we'd regret it a whole lot more.

i thought you were dead.

it sure is good to see a friendly face.

at least it's not hard to find criminals here. all i have to do is point my gun and shoot.

my feelings got in the way of my better judgement.

i'll make you a deal. you get me out of here alive, and i'll tell you the whole damn thing.

nobody would give me a mirror. how bad is it?

don't make me laugh, damn it.

some women find facial scars attractive.

i'm fit for duty whenever you need me.

when i got to the meeting point, no one was there.

kill you? no. but i don't mind slowing you down a little.

what do you want from me, [name]?

i know you want to talk about this... but i don't. not yet.

it's so much easier to see the world in black and white. gray... i don't know what to do with gray.

my instincts are what got me into this mess.

never knew you had a weakness for men with scars.

well, why the hell not? there's nobody in this galaxy i respect more than you.

if we can figure out a way to make it work, then... yeah. definitely.

you're about the only friend i've got left in this screwed-up galaxy.

you don't ever have to worry about making me uncomfortable. nervous, yes... but never uncomfortable.

i brought wine.

your hair looks... good. and your waist is... very supportive.

hopefully that's not offensive in human culture.

i want something to go right. just once.

think you can win this thing, [name]?

i'm pretty sure we'll still need giant guns... and lots of them.

so... is this the part where we shake hands?

the scars are starting to fade. i remember they drove you wild.

i've been doing some more research on human customs.

glad to know my romantic skills made an impression.

let's not go there.

i can afford the good stuff.

what about you? i'm starting to see some wear and tear.

don't forget to come up for air. and not just because all these people need you. because i need you.

if you're suggesting i'm scared... game on.

still trying to make me blush, huh?

i'd be lying if i said i didn't hope it would inspire a certain... mood.

it seemed like you needed time to... figure us out.

the worst part about the galaxy going to hell would've been never getting to see you again.

not saying you don't know how to handle a gun. just saying some of us know how to make it dance.

i've actually seen you dance. no comment.

i know there are other things you're good at.

probably not a lot of air in here. an hour if we're lucky.

so tell me. think a girl would fall for that?

it gets even better when you try it in bed.

you don't lack for places to get lost.

did we break anything last night?

you'll find a way to win. and when this is over, i'll be waiting for you.

if this thing goes sideways and we both end up there... meet me at the bar. i'm buying.

forgive the insubordination, but your boyfriend has an order for you.

come back alive. it'd be an awfully empty galaxy without you.

we're in this 'til the end.

we didn’t kill these people. and we’re going to shut down the bastards who did.

looks like we’ve got a siege on our hand.

if anyone needs fresh clips or a bathroom break, now’s the time.

oh crap!

guess he didn’t like the food.

looks like we got the jump.

pretty extreme, but those were desperate times.

we won’t get a second chance.

that was me, sorry.

nothing like being stranded.

we’ll do more than that.

just the usual minor flesh wound.

what would these people have done if we hadn’t shown up?

i was there when you two had your thing, remember? just get a room and work it out.

stay angry. we’ll need it to get through this.

drinks will be on me.

one of my favorite places to fight!

i’m hard to kill. you should know that.

it’s gonna be bad all over.

for whatever it’s worth, i’m with you.

you’ve waited long enough for this day.

just wait ‘til this war is over.

you came along and warmed my heart with your winning personality.

maybe you’d like to go work for them instead?

how do i not have one of those?

surprise on our side for once. i like it.

brutal, but it makes a certain kind of sense.

[thephooka]

Happy Webcomic Day! My webcomic White Noise is a labor of love--according to Procreate, this page took me 15.5 hours to complete.* Here's a look into that process!

Some other notes:

The thumbnails are done on graph paper and I script while I do them--there is no separate written script for White Noise. I usually spent a couple hours on weekends as needed thumbnailing, sometimes at a coffee shop or at home listening to records.

I then set up the file in Photoshop, so I can lay in the text and use the template I have with bleeds already set up. The text is rasterized and I shuttle the file over to my iPad via Airdrop.

The bulk of the actual work is done in Procreate, which records timelapses that I sometimes share to my Patreon. I usually spend a couple hours most nights after my day job or on the bus commuting doing this.

Once everything art-wise is done, I shuttle the file back over to my desktop to re-set in the text, add a stroke around the speech bubbles (Procreate doesn't have that took fsr) and do the resizing/exporting for web.

On Sunday mornings I get up, queue the page and write the page descriptions. I don't spend any time on the page descriptions outside of that.

Also, this process goes for the whole first arc of White Noise. I'm done with that arc (which means you can binge the whole thing I'm js!!) and am experimenting with some different methods these days, but my workflow is still generally the same.

*Some more talk about the labor (and burnout) involved below the cut:

This particular page (and most of the pages I did in 2023) took a lot longer than normal because I was heading into a burnout period that I'm still lowkey in/recovering from. It's obvious to me now in retrospect watching the timelapse here and seeing how much noodling I'm doing and how much I'm struggling with the process, but at the time I was just very frustrated generally. When I'm not burned tf out pages take maybe 10 hours max.

2023 was a pretty stressful year--lots of big life changes, uncertainty, pet death, health issues--so it's no wonder it propelled me into burnout, but it just goes to show that even the slowest and steadiest pace is not sustainable forever. I've been doing one page a week following this general process for over a decade! And I stuck to that pace because I knew it was one I could maintain. But even so, by the end of this arc I found myself working more and more slowly, not really looking forward to the work, feeling anxious about being behind, unhappy with the finished work, and extremely annoyed with myself for not being able to give it my all right there at the finish line.

I did stop for a while after the epilogue and took a more or less complete break from drawing for about a month--the longest I have EVER gone without drawing, much less working on White Noise--which did help, but these days my ability to work is...inconsistent. I should probably take another total break, but I'm reluctant. What if my passion never comes back? What if people forget about WN? It's already pretty obscure, and with the general social media collapse, it's harder than ever to get people to read my work. Now that I've left Hiveworks, WN doesn't even get the benefit of being linked to other comics (although objectively very, very few readers actually got referred to my comic that way.) And frankly, I'm also just too proud to go too long without comic updates. I've always told myself, I might not be the best artist or the fastest worker or make a popular comic, but I'm consistent. Difficult to let that go.

This is all to say that webcomics are hard. We do them because we love them, we have stories to tell, we are seized with the human compulsion to create. We spend hours of our time, almost always on top of the paying work that allows us to eat, to make something that we then give away for free. It has consequences on us that the reader doesn't often see, no matter how careful we are about it. If you ask me, webcomics deserve to be valued more.

Happy Webcomic Day! Read webcomics!

[cy-cyborg]

Proximity to disability is not the same as living with it - Writing disability quick tips

[ID: An image with “Writing Disability quick tips: Proximity to disability is not the same as living with it” written in chalk the colour of the disability pride flag, from left to right, red, yellow, white, blue and green. Beside the text are 2 poorly drawn people icons in blue, one is standing, the other is in a wheelchair. /end id]

One of the really common ways people push back against disabled people trying to give them feedback on how they’ve depicted disability in their work shows up as something along the lines of, “Well I have a child/parent/grandparent/friend with that disability, so I don’t need to consult other disabled people because I already know what a life like that is like!”

I see the most vehement pushback like this from parents of disabled children. the parents who are their child's advocates, their carers, they see everything their kids go through and have been with them through it all, so they "know what they're talking about already". And the thing about that is, while it means you have much, much more experience with the disability in question, it's not the same as direct experience living with it. Don't get me wrong, it's still an incredibly valuable experience to have, I'm not saying to disregard it, but it's not the same as having that disability. And when you're writing about characters who are disabled, and telling those stories to a public who already have a lot of misinformation about us going in, that lived experience is very, very important.

This isn't unique to parents of course, like I said, I've seen the same kind of pushback from children, friends and other loved ones of disabled people, and honestly, as someone who's been on both sides of the conversation (being a disabled person, but also having loved ones with disabilities different to my own), I do get where it comes from. But no matter how close you are with your disabled loved one, no matter how much you talk, no matter how much they explain everything, unless you yourself have that same disability, it's incredibly hard to understand the details of what life with a disability is like.

Let me use my partner as an example:

Often times, before these larger articles go up, I run them by my partner to ensure the tone and message I want to get across is actually what’s being conveyed. Which means he’s read pretty much every single article I’ve written on this blog. We talk about disability representation and tropes a lot, and he is one of the only people who sees my unmasked and unfiltered reactions to media when it’s done poorly. He’s also done a great deal of his own research on the subject, and worked with other disability sensitivity readers for his own writing projects. Not to mention, well, we live together, he sees pretty much every part of my day-to-day life and he’s one of the only people who doesn't share my disability who I talk to about the more complex emotions that come with it.

I think it’s pretty fair to say he’s quite knowledgeable on the subject of living with the specific disabilities I have for someone who doesn't have them. Despite that though, he still makes mistakes. He still misses things, and sometimes, internalised ableism - something everyone has, even disabled people - still creeps its way into his work. So do mistakes he simply didn't consider to run past me or his sensitivity readers. It’s not because he’s not listening or not trying, I’d confidently say he’s gone above and beyond in that regard, but it still happens. He still misses things that seem so obvious to me, specifically because of my lived experience as a disabled person who has to deal with these things all the time. It’s not unique to him either. A lot of people in my life are aware of the issues I talk about, but struggle to recognise them in practice or struggle to understand why them being depicted poorly is a problem.

This isn't to discourage creators from trying, mind you. But just to serve as a reminder that everyone makes mistakes, and that's ok, so long as you're still trying and still listening. No matter how close you are to a disabled person, no matter how much work or effort you put into unlearning things like internalised ableism, it's still going to pop up occasionally. And that's fine, but it means that you still need to be open to the criticism you get from people with that disability.

[raelle-writing]

Hey 👋

What do you think about tee's character?! This character is so confusing he cares for white a lot and protects him but he did worse things to non. We know he also needed money for his father. What do you think about him and how white and tee met and fell in love. Tee only listens to white and also what you think about white ? Is he only related to the group because he's tee's boyfriend. Tbh I'm loving their couple,their chemistry is so good. 🫠

Thank you so much for this question!!! I actually find Tee's character entirely fascinating tbh - he's a bully but he shows these moments of complete and utter humanity that I find really sympathetic and compelling.

Like I'll never justify what he does to Non - framing him for breaking the camera and then using that debt that he manufactured to pull Non into money laundering isn't exactly excusable. But I find it so interesting that while we see Tee doing all of these insane things, we also see these little moment of humanity throughout. Like when it's made clear that Tee is mostly working with his shady uncle to help get money for his dad - we don't know what kind of medical treatment his dad is undergoing, but clearly something severe that costs a lot to treat.

Tee is in arguably just as desperate a position as Non (if not more desperate). He's stuck needing money, dragged into illegal activity by his uncle, in too deep to get out. Does that excuse him being a manipulative bully? Of course not. But it's fascinating to me because it would've been SO easy to make Tee a non-sympathetic character, and yet we see all of this depth to him.

We're also shown that he didn't want to get any of his friends involved in the money laundering, including Non. He knew it was bad and illegal, and he didn't do it until he was completely and utterly backed into a corner, until he'd exhausted literally every other alternative and his uncle gave him an ultimatum.

Which is interesting because you think he wouldn't hesitate to pull in Non even before that, since he doesn't like Non. But he does hesitate. It shows that he has some ethics, and some sense that what he's doing has the potential to ruin whoever is involved. And he doesn't want to ruin Non, despite disliking him and picking on him at school.

Of course, he reverses this action by proceeding to get Non involved. And then, when Non goes to get the rest of their friend group involved, he backs Non up. But not because he's greedy, but because his uncle is shorting him left and right and he still doesn't have the money for his father's medication OR to pay Non.

Tee's position is parallel to Non's. He needs the money. He's into illegal shit he doesn't want to be in, but is forced in deeper every day by the people pulling the strings. And he, like Non, is just a kid. He shouldn't have to be discussing money laundering with his uncle at 17 years old to help pay for his father's medical bills.

And even though Tee continues being a dick to Non throughout the past (even going so far as to help his uncle make Non disappear), he shows hesitance at every turn when his uncle demands things of him, and he tries (weakly) to defend Non when his uncle starts saying Non is a police spy.

And after he brings Non to his uncle and Non "disappears," Tee can't stop himself from asking what happened to Non. Tee doesn't even like Non, and yet he still shows clear signs of fear and upset at the thought that Non might be dead. Because he knows he'd be complicit? Maybe. But he's also a teenage kid caught up in illegal things against his will. He might genuinely feel bad about it. His expression certainly conveys more than just guilt...

Does any of this balance out the bad things he does throughout the past? Of course not. He's still a shitty person and should be in jail for the part he played in Non's disappearance. But he's also fascinatingly sympathetic in the way he's forced into all of these actions. He clearly doesn't want to be doing any of the things he's done, but feels as though he has no choice. Either because his uncle will hang him out to dry for the police, or because he still needs the money for his father's treatment.

That said, I don't find Tee's treatment of White in the present dissonant to his character in the slightest. To me, it's clear that Tee is the type of person who cares deeply about those close to him, he just doesn't let a lot of people get close because he's experienced far too much pain and manipulation at the hands of his family. Tee is soft with White, but more than that, he's devastated when he learns that Por has died.

Tee cares. He cares a lot. He cares about White, he cares about Por. He arguably cares more about himself since he often abandons White during stressful situations, and is more concerned about what White will think of what they did to Non than he is about what he actually did to Non. But I think that he knows he had no choice (or at least, in his eyes he had no choice) in what happened to Non.

Anyway, this got long ahahaha I just find Tee's characterization to be so interestingly done. He's one of the most deeply complex characters in the entire show, and shout out to JJay for conveying all of his complexities so well, he's an amazing actor.

As for White... well. White is still a question mark for me personally. I wrote a theory previously that White could be Non's brother New, and I still think that's a possibility. I've also seen a wild theory floating around that White is actually Non himself, he's just gotten plastic surgery.

It's possible that White is exactly what he appears to be, a mostly-innocent bystander. Especially since White defends Tee when the others talk about thinking Tee did something bad to Non, and shows clear horror when Tee talks about burning Dang's corpse.

I'm not sure exactly how Tee and White met, but I think they're pretty compatible. White wants someone to take care of him, and Tee likes having someone look up to him. Tee also has a lot of love and care to show, he just doesn't/can't do it easily because of his history.

Because I find Tee sympathetic, I kind of hope that White isn't using Tee as part of the revenge plan (though I know a lot of people want that) because I find the idea of the one person Tee has opened up to turning around to betray him that way completely heartbreaking. But I also know that within the narrative, Tee is the villain. He's the main catalyst to everything bad that happened to Non, so it wouldn't surprise me if the story has set up exactly some twist like that happening to him for revenge. We'll have to see where the story takes us but personally, I think they're cute together right now!

[ayakingsley]

Okay, so, I'm back again….

And I have more to say (yayy..) and I have to say, Eurylochus survivors guilt and over all mental state when everything finally came to a head in Thunderbringer must’ve been CRAZY.

I’ve seen a lot of people say this already but I was thinking it too so I’m still gonna say it… Fuck the gods, and fuck the fates. Y’all ain’t shit fr.

Okay, now on to the analysis. Remember what I was saying about the Polities thing? I now think Eurylochus does somewhat blame Odysseus for his death now. Not by much but like I said, grief is powerful and can lead to rash decisions. (Like Odysseus going to far with leading with an open heart) Like Eurylochus losing trust within his Captain, brother, and friend and going too far in his distrust…

He felt like Odysseus was hiding something from them, he was suspicious and paranoid at that point. They went from not losing a single man to losing (don’t remember the number, help!) and they were all still reeling from that. Imagine with me, imagine your crew mates leaving with your Captain, his second in command and his best friend…. And the group of men that have been sent in have been halfed, their Captain and second in command looking ragged and horrified… and their best friend GONE.

That’s a horrifying visual, I can’t imagine the horror the men that were still on the boats felt at that moment. Our brothers were up against a Cyclops? But our Captain and Polities said it was safe, we were supposed to be safe but our brothers aren’t safe, they’re dead… You picking up what I’m putting down? None of these men were doing okay, yeah, that was the first time that we know of that Odysseus has failed them in some way but I doubt it’s everyday that you find yourself up against monsters and you’re feeling guilt for not being there for their now fallen brothers and… they need someone to blame.

It’s not right, none of this is right. They are in an impossible situation and are processing it in the only way that they can (which isn’t very well but you get my point), I feel sympathy for all of them. It’s so easy to see things as black n white but I hate seeing things that way, humans are so fucking complicated and we are just too hard to understand that we often can’t understand each other!

I’m not sure what I would’ve done in their situation but from re-listening and analyzing I get it, I do and I am so unwell right now, holy shit.

And have had a horrible realization re-listening to Keep Your Friends Close…

“Everything’s changed since Polities..”

“Everything’s changed since Polities” The Captain’s changed since Polities, Eurylochus has changed since Polities.. My gods I am so fucking unwell right now, I am in shambles writing this but unfortunately the show must go on.

Eurylochus mistrust got his crew mates killed and that realization left him scrambling in his racing mind, by the gods our crew mates… dead.. all because I couldn’t trust my brother. What has gotten in to me?? Is this ocean madness? (Which is an actual thing, go figure) Eurylochus got burnt once and he’s not looking forward to getting burnt again so he behaves.

Circes island, the guilt of what he has done weighs heavy on his heart and mind. He needs to tell someone what he has done, he needs to tell his brother what he has done… but he doesn’t want to listen but Eurylochus NEEDS to get this off his chest, he NEEDS to free himself of this but he must follow orders, disobeying hasn’t gotten him anywhere.

Their men have stupidly ran into Circes arms seeking comfort and safety, a break from the madness, something to soothe the hunger.. Eurylochus doesn’t want to fight another Demi-god, he just wants to hold onto the men he has left with his brother by his side… but Odysseus, once more being a better man than he goes. Odysseus himself goes on to save their men, their brother in arms while Eurylochus… does nothing but watch their Captain save their men like he said he would, once more proving his mistrust of him false and adding on to his guilt. He was willingly going to leave his brothers behind, what if he had successfully convinced Odysseus to leave them behind? Then what?

Now in the Underworld, they are being haunted by the souls there. They haven’t slept a wink and their are exhausted… then they start to see familiar faces. The faces of their men that their Captain got killed, no, that Eurylochus got killed. Their damned souls blame their Captain when it was Eurylochus to blame. And then they see Polities and…. I really want to know what Eurylochus was feeling in that moment, all animatics focus on Odysseus reaction (protagonist type shit) that don’t know how he reacted but I can’t imagine it was anything good. And I don’t know about y’all but I think Eurylochus noticed how there was something different about Odysseus when he came back from the Prophet, I wonder if he noticed his darker aura, his grim and serious face. Could Eurylochus see the monster wearing his brother face?

Aaaand we have come back full circle. Trust, Distrust, Trust, Distrust. Back and forth, the tides come and go.

We’re a Different beast now, we are the monsters, Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves, Six torches, Six men gone… everything was going so well. Eurylochus finally got what he had to say off his chest, his Captain told him to light six torches so he did, he was just following orders. He was believing and trusting his captain, brother, friend like he should have from the start… but Eurylochus was right? His Captain, his brother, friend betrayed them? (Betrayed him?) Odysseus was supposed to be better than Eurylochus, he NEEDED to be better than Eurylochus, he wasn’t supposed to prove him right!

But after all, he’s just a man… but so is Eurylochus.

He’s making his final stand and their crew either side with the captain that willingly sacrificed them, tried to sacrifice his own Second in command, brother, friend or side with him. He isn’t the better option, he’s just a necessary evil. And even though his brother tried to kill him (twice now “I’m not letting you get in my way!”) he couldn’t bring himself to kill him. Eurylochus was starving and tired and worn and would rather die on his own terms with a full stomach by his brothers in arms than whatever Odysseus has planned next.

And I have more to say on THAT but this post is too long and my fingers are tired and I am so unwell right now… excuse me while I go cry.

[the---hermit]

02|11|2023

Today was intense to say the least. Everything I did was structured around this online lecture I had and it was a waste of time. Today and tomorrow were lectures dedicated to discussing potential paper topics, and you can bet I will send the professor and email tomorrow morning because I don't plan on joining again. I ended up wasting the hours in which I am most productive to just listen about other people's projects of which I don't really care about because I will be working on something else. After the lecture I was exhausted, but I still got some work done in the afternoon, so I'm happy about that. Another recent joy was finding out I can braid the top of my hair! Right now my haircut is kinda terrible because I have been growing out my shorter cut, and ngl it does not look good. But braids are fixing everything, so now I can take all the time I need to figure out what the hell I actually want to do with my hair! A special thanks also goest to my mom who the other day adjusted my hair in the back so now I don't look that terrible.

cozy hobbit autumn activities and productivity:

read first thing in the morning

worked for an hour-ish on a lecture of my power practices class before taking a break from screens

had a 3 hour online lecture for my English class

worked a lot on my crochet project (I was in fact crocheting during the online lecture but on my defense it was just people discussing with the prof their paper topic)

in the afternoon I got back to the power practices lecture I started in the morning and worked a bit more on that (I have about 20 minutes left to finish tomorrow, but it's fine)

podcasts to shut my brain off (I started the last season of the mistholme museum and i don't want it to end)

today's self care:

made sure to drink enough water

took all the breaks I needed when I could (so basically when I was studying and not following the lecture) and actually studied less than I had planned in the afternoon because I was too tired

did some breathing exercises

📖:Hell Followed With Us by Andrew Joseph White, Finn Family Moomintroll by Tove Jansson

[dark-overlord-of-rainbows]

Drawn March 18 - April 29 2024 quick designs based on some miscellaneous character ideas I had recently

Image 1:

Green & purple hair: the only ones here with names, they are Marrow (as in bone marrow) and Kiff (short for Kidney Ffailure. Two Fs) respectively. Both of them are the 'saturday morning antagonist' type, and are attracted to eachother - but are way too stupid to realize that's what that is and have both come to the seperate conclusion that they are now Nemeses.

Pink hair: A loud boy who has the power to do anything he can think of, with one major caveat - he needs people to believe that he can do it, first.

Colourful pants: Can cast spells by making sigils. They are always drawing sigils on their clothes and body, or patchworking clothes and fabric with sigils on them together.

Brown hair: As a young teen he was an in/famous vigilante and scammer, but at 20 years old he's just real tired of the attention that brought and he doesn't want his family to worry about him, so he's trying to put his skills into performing and helping his community but the world just will not let him rest. His left arm always seems to break somehow.

Image 2: I like drawing faces. Can you tell? the first and third ones I had some vague ideas for how they looked beforehand, but not this time. These ones were all done completely on the spot

White hair: some robot

Blond: A girl who got possessed and did a lot of terrible things. Now no longer possessed, she's trying to right some of those wrongs and well… nobody wants to say it, but can I say it? Everyone kinda preferred her personality when she was possessed. No, no, it's not like she's bad now but--

Brown hair: Some random jackass who somehow kills and becomes a god. He's not exactly powerful but still none of the other gods know how to deal with this asshole. He's got a nephew he loves but let's not kid ourselves he's not exactly nice to him either

Image 3:

The two redhaired ones: Demon brothers. Big haired one is the annoying little sibling, and the one with the mask appears quiet, contemplative and mysterious to outsiders but actually his first instinct to any slight bit of emotion is yelling about it.

The red & blackhaired one's cloak/that bird: as is written there (which… may not be readable.) they are a little strawberry finch that can shapeshift. Usually takes the form of the bird or something wearable (a cloak, coat, blanket). Not good at listening, however

Two toned shirt: Some cursed person. not related to the others they're next to, I just put them there.

The two on the right: couple of assholes that are gay for eachother

I've been working on artfight prep recently as I write this, so I'm planning on adding a couple of these designs this year

[wolfinshipclothing]

GTA San Andreas Poll!

Alright folks, i've been replaying my favorite GTA game, San Andreas, for the 10nth time. And for the 10nth time, i find the tension between CJ and Sweet to be fascinating and complex one. So, I wanna know you guys opinions.

BEFORE VOTING: check out my analysis of CJ under the cut before voting.

Now, let's take a good look at CJ's Pros and Cons.

Pros

*With one call from Sweet, he left his life in Liberty City (and his mob boss) to come back to SA.

*Once he saw his family and how fucked up the hood was, he decided to stay, even when everybody was giving him shit and asking him to leave.

*He did everything, and i mean EVERYTHING he could to help his family/homies.

*He befriended Cesar, which ultimately lead to Kendl being safe and put CJ on the path to hunt down Smoke and Tenpenny.

*He seemed to have learnt his lesson after what happened to Brian, and now, he wants to do everything he can to ensure his family is safe.

*He took out a drug cartel almost by himself.

*He worked for Torino, one of the (funniest) scariest character in the franchise, doing impossible and near suicidal missions, just to keep Sweet safe in jail. Eventually, CJ's work is the reason why Sweet is freed.

*Unlike Sweet, who listen to nobody, CJ is open to feedback. He welcomes advice from everyone (Cesar, Woozie, Kendl, The Truth...), and that grants him the upper hand and a few good allies.

*Except for a few moments, CJ treats his friends and family with respect. And when he'd wronged them, he apologizes.

*Overall, he seems to be unprejudiced, except against agents of the law (which is, like, understandable...). He befriends black people, latinos, chinese, white folks, and pretty much everyone that treats him right, gets treated right.

*He's a shareholder in a CASINO. And this is after ROBBING a rival casino, which is after he TAKES OUT THE THREE MAFIA FAMILIES that owned that Casino. Oh, and the robbery? Its an optional mission, that CJ planned 90%, and that he executed full James Bond style.

*He's your go-to man. For like... ANYTHING. You need something done? CJ will do it, even if it seems impossible. Granted, yes, this comes with being a GTA protagonist, but even by those standards, the shit he'd managed to pull off is mind-blowing.

*Look, this is a GTA game. CJ is a gangbanger. Of course he's gonna be violent. BUT, compared to other protagonists (Tommy Vercetti), he uses his wit, gadgets and stealth to solve problems more often than with just straight up murdering everyone on sight.

*Take a look at the wider picture: in his five years absence, the hood had got from bad to worse. The families are beefing, the Ballas and the cops are working to turn everyone into baseheads, and there's only three GS' OG still active: Sweet, Ryder and Big Smoke (those two being moles). In a few weeks, he turned GS into a force work reckoning. In fact, the only reason they failed into culling the Ballas was because Smoke and Ryder snitched on them. And after CJ was thrown into the Badlands, does he give up? NO. He works with a psycopath woman and earns money by all means necessary to get a strong foothold in San Fierro. Does he stop there? NO. He buys property, earns money, becomes chummy with the Triads and takes out a drug cartel. Does he stops there? NO! He allies himself with a MIB to work towards Sweet freedom. Does he stops there? NO!! He helps to rise up a Casino and runs out THREE mafia gangs out of the city. DOES HE STOPS THERE? NO!!!!! HE recovers Madd Dogg crib to use as base of operation to wait for Sweet. And when Sweet gets out of jail and calls CJ out and demands he helps with the hood, what does CJ do? Exactly that, taking down Smoke's yay operation and Officer Tenpenny, Pulasky and Hernandez. All in the span of a few months. Say whatever you want about CJ, but he is NO BUSTER.

*He reassures Sweet that "whatever's mine is yours". And he means it. In the previous game, everything Tommy did was for himself. Everything CJ did was for the Johnson Empire. For his family.

*HE FLEW WITH A JETPACK! Come on. This alone should put you on his side.

Cons

*We don't know the details, but we know that he let his little brother Brian die. In itself, that sucks. But the twist of the knife is that after Brian died, CJ ran away to the other end of the country, and from what we gather, he didn't write, call or visited his family in FIVE YEARS. AND THE WORSE PART is that CJ's mom apparently got sick through that time and Kendl was still going to school, so Sweet had to man up... And CJ was not there to help him.

*Let's be honest: CJ doesn't have much of a care for the hood. He cares about his family, yes, and he wants to be accepted, but everything he does for Grove Street is just so his homies and Sweet would take him back.

*In his own words, he "tries not to pay much attention". And it shows. Literally, CJ is your go-to guy, which is good but also bad. Damn, he made Madd Dogg life a living Hell by stealing his rhyme book and, oh yeah, KILLING HIS MANAGER! A man that did nothing wrong except saying that Jeff-OG LOC rapping was "whack" (which is true). CJ saves MD life later on and becomes his manager... but he never comes clean about what he did to MD. Thats pretty cold.

*He complains. A LOT. Its mentioned several times by several characters: whenever things are slightly off, CJ whines about it. Special mention goes to when Cataline gaves him the garage in Doherty as pink slip. He throws a tantrum to the ages just because the place is a bit of a fixer-upper.

*Related to the above, Kendl calls him out about how CJ always "wanted something out of nothing", meaning CJ wanted to be respected but didn't want to put much effort into it.

*Honestly? He's a bit of a slacker. Until he reaches Las Venturas, he'd shown little leadership material. And the few good calls he had (buying ZERO's shop, buying the car dealership), were someone else's idea.

*Its fair to say that, even after becoming rich in Las Venturas, he still remains humble, and still wants to work to get Sweet out of jail. Its also fair to say that he's so dazzled by the success they had that he couldn't care less about the hood. Damn, the man saw his childhood home being used as a base spot and he didn't give a damn. That's cold.

*Through all the final act, he struggles with his new found responsibilities with his business against the responsibilities with his brother and his hood.

*To be honest, its debatable if he took out Smoke and Tenpenny out of desire to help the hood or because it was personal for him.

*He goes as far as accusing the hood (and by extension GS and Sweet) as "holding him up". Kind of a high horse you have there...

*It's not outright said, but Its obvious the reason Tenpenny was declared innocent was because of everything CJ did for him. Taking down witnesses? Killing reporters? Destroying evidence? All of that helped Tenpenny. CJ was being held by the balls, yes. But his actions led to Tenpenny being declared innocent, which in turn lead to the LS riots, which no doubt caused lot of material and human lives...

I was gonna write a list of Sweet pros and cons but it would be redundant.

So there you have it! Fell free to vote and comment!

[sarandipitywrites]

NaNo update 11/29 (a big one!)

didn't write a whole lot today, because on one of my breaks i tripped and fell down a motionless in white youtube rabbithole (i regret nothing)

B U T.

i broke 50k words on The Art of Empty Space today! *streamers and fanfare* i still plan on writing/posting tomorrow (because why not?), but after that AES will be on pause for a little bit while i finish the second draft of Dead Roots, Dark Water and grapple with the Total Fucking Plot Overhaul that my brain sprung on me yesterday. so there probably will not be any updates to AES until… january? at the earliest? but updates there will be (because i'm actually really excited about this idea and think it will make AES sooooo much better)

so thanks for listening to me ramble; here's almost everything i wrote today as payment:

Lienzo tried to wait. He tried, but every moment of stillness scraped against his nerves like a whetstone, honed them to a razor's edge that ripped through skin and bone, leaving only tattered wounds behind.

He scurried through the chamber, plucking up all remnants of Baz's cooled rage — a splintered hunk of furniture, a gutted pillow — and piled them in the sitting area by the door. Baz could fix it. He'd fixed Lienzo's nose, his red coat, the hollow in his chest that told other people how to trust and be trusted.

Baz could fix anything.

Lienzo accosted Baz at the door, snatched the gauze and tweezers and ointment from his hands and ushered him into the bathroom to wash off the worst of the blood and the dust. As the water ran, Lienzo dragged a small table to the fireplace and set up their miniature clinic.

Baz had hurt himself over Lienzo then, too.

Even seated, he couldn't be still; his knee kept bouncing, his hands kept tugging at his braids until his scalp ached. When Baz took his seat across from Lienzo, he couldn't look up. He just grabbed blindly for the roll of gauze and Baz's hand. He had to fix what he'd done, only he couldn't fix it, because he'd—

Baz's hand twisted. Strong, black-tipped fingers intertwined with his.

The firelight flickered in Baz's eyes, dark and hypnotic. Beads of water glistened, trapped in the fine curls at his hairline. He pointed down at his letterboard, unrolled on the table between them. At one of the words lining the edge. "Stop."

"But... but I have to—"

Baz shook his head. He pointed at Lienzo. "G-u-i-l-t. Stop."

His teeth sank into his lip. Why? Why should he stop? He was guilty. If he had been calmer, if he'd been better prepared, if he could put aside his stupid, rotted pride for one godsforsaken moment, none of this would have happened. None of it.

"You. No. Control. Me." He gave a crooked smile, a single fang glinting in the firelight. He tapped his own temple, gestured at the fire. "Remember?"

"...And then you need to run into a blizzard to put it out." Because their bodies didn't always obey them. Because when Lienzo was overwhelmed, he flung his words like knives at everyone around him; when Baz was overwhelmed, the fire in his brain scorched him from the inside out.

Baz's grip on his hand loosened; he allowed Lienzo to turn his hand over, to start to wrap the gauze around his knuckles. "Sorry." He tapped the word three times, claw clacking on the table.

"If I'm not allowed to apologize, you're not, either."

A snort. Baz tapped at the bare skin of Lienzo's left wrist. "Mother."

Lienzo's hands froze. The bangle had belonged to Baz's mother? Or it was made from...? "How old were you?"

"Thirteen. Illness."

Lienzo should have wished her ashes safe return. Would have, had he not sold them for a couple bottles of medication. "Baz, I—"

"Stop. No sorry."

He swallowed around the dryness of his throat and nodded. He couldn't look Baz in the eye; he tied off the gauze instead.

"Maza. Sick?"

Lienzo huffed a laugh. It sounded hollow, even to him. "They're always sick. You'd think I'd be used to it, by now." But he wasn't. He never grew used to anything, no matter how hard he tried.

"Other parent?"

"Who knows where he is." He scowled and grabbed the tweezers from the table, began pulling the splinters from beneath Baz's nails. "We don't need him. Never have."

For a moment, Baz said nothing. He drummed his nails beside the letterboard, lip between his teeth. "Sorry," he finally said. "No believe you. Before. Angry. Sorry."

"Yeah. I noticed." On closer inspection, Baz's nails weren't claws like a cat or an ostrix had — they seemed to be part of his fingertips, hard and sharpened into blackened points. "But you don't need to be sorry. I don't think I would've believed me, either."

"Would have done same. If my mother."

Lienzo's throat closed. "You're not...?"

"Upset? Yes." He withdrew his hand, replaced it with the other. Lienzo began wrapping it in gauze. "But understand. Both." He took a corner of his cloak in hand, worried it between his fingers. The gauze was wrapped and tied before he returned to his letterboard. "Forgiven."

"...Thanks. I forgive you, too." This wouldn't happen again; they wouldn't let it. He would shield Baz from the whole world if he had to, if it would keep the fire in his brain from consuming him. Baz would do the same for him. He knew it.

He pulled the last splinter and set the tweezers down. Outside, the rain had slowed to a steady drizzle; sunset streaked through the window, sharpened by the prism of each droplet. Gravity pulled at his muslces, reminded him of the long ride. He rose from the chair, joints groaning. "I guess I should—"

"Stay." Baz looked up at him. His pupils eclipsed his irises into copper halos. "Please."

He shouldn't. He couldn't. Baz didn't mean— "Okay."

Lienzo cursed his tongue as he exchanged his road-worn clothes and binder for an oversized shirt pilfered from Baz's closet. He cursed it as he slipped between soft sheets, nestled into the mound of blankets. He cursed it until Baz's hand brushed his waist, lingered there in a question.

He grabbed Baz's arm and drew it over himself like a blanket.

His mind was quiet. For the first time since the blizzard, his mind was quiet.

AES taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @notwritinganyflufftoday

[lastoneout]

Sorry for the long post but this has been on my mind for a while and I kinda just wanna get it all out, also I am not an authority on this topic nor am trying to be treated as such, this is based on my life and perspective and what I've seen, keep that in mind, but yeah ANYWAY

I still see a lot of people who are tempted to respond to the right's stance on minimum wage by pointing out that no, not all the people working at McDonald's are teenagers who want some walking around money, there are fully grown adult employees trying to support their families and they obviously deserve a living wage, but I can't help but think that's kinda missing the point of what they're really getting at.

They don't actually think there aren't adults working at McDonald's(or poor teenagers who are supporting their family), they know that, they just think if you're working at McDonald's it's because you've done something wrong, and thus you deserve to be punished by society for it(or in the case of the teenagers their parents did something wrong in which case it's justified to punish their whole family, or the teenager did something wrong even bcs see they should be trying to better themselves and if they aren't it means they're making a mistake and deserve to be punished).

People repeat "the cruelty is the point" a lot but I don't think some of us realize exactly how true that is. To the right there is a correct path one's life is supposed to take and any deviation should be punished. When the left says "hey maybe we could fix some of those things that cause people to make mistakes/end up in bad places" the right doesn't listen bcs they don't believe there's anything to fix. Society is working exactly the way it's supposed to, in fact the real problem is that there isn't enough punishment.

To paraphrase an Innuendo Studios video that opened my eyes on this topic if right doesn't care about, say, stopping abortions, not really, they simply want to punish the people who get them. They know their solution won't stop anyone, they know it will just lead to people with uteruses dying or getting sick, but that's fine because good people don't get abortions, good people don't wind up sick or dead, so if you do you must be a bad person, and bad people should be punished.

Ofc they will prove to be hypocrites when they're the ones who need help, justifying why they deserve a safe abortion or whatever bcs they're a good person! They didn't do anything wrong! They're just rectifying a discrepancy! And they don't think of a second that the rest of the people getting abortions are ALSO good people who deserve safe healthcare and happy lives, bcs if there aren't bad people getting punished then how will they know that they're good people??

(It's the same with defending sexual abusers too, those boys are good men who just made a tiny little mistake, or were seduced, or just did what normal men do! We should forgive them bcs they're rich or powerful or white and rich, powerful, white men are good people. Plus, the women...well they made the real mistake by not protecting themselves better. By dressing slutty or going to a bar, and now they're trying to ruin this poor guy's life over their fuck-up? That's the real evil, that's what should actually be punished!)

So if you work at McDonald's as an adult who's trying to support yourself and your family you did something wrong and you should be punished. If you're sick or a victim of sexual violence and need healthcare or an abortion you did something wrong and should be punished. If you come here seeking asylum then you did something wrong and you AND your family should be punished. Things like this don't happen to good people(even though they do), they only happen to bad people, and bad people should be punished.

It's like that Demention 20 clip, about how these people think places like coffee shops should exist BUT it should suck to work there. It sucking is the punishment. The only people working there are ones who've clearly made some sort of mistake, and thus it's correct for them to suffer, because people who make mistakes are bad, and bad people deserve be punished.

Going deeper, to what I think the real root of a lot of this is, it ties back into the fact that the majority of the far right is christian and a lot of christians believe that if they're good and live their lives correctly and pray to god and give the church money good things will happen to them, and the people who are suffering have fallen out of god's favor, and thus are bad people who deserve to be punished. I've been to a lot of churches here in America and trust me, that is EXACTLY what a lot of them preach, basically word for word. Bad things don't happen to good people, so if bad things are happening to you you must have done something wrong, so pray harder, repent, and deal with your punishment until you fall back into god's favor and are thus once again a Good Person.

(That's also why a lot of them will try to convert the people they try to help through charity, bcs they believe if you are christian good things will happen to you. They genuinely think converting people is just as helpful as donating money to a food bank or volunteering at a soup kitchen. Because good things happen to christians, so being one will make your life better...or will at least mean you get to go to heaven when you die and hey, then you won't suffer anymore!)

And ofc you can't point out that a lot of their leaders are fucking hypocrites who don't live by these rules at all and are in fact just asshole capitalists who only care about money and power bcs they pretend to follow the rules and still put those rules into law and that's enough to convince the right to vote for them. It's part of why Trump was right, he could shoot someone in the middle of the street and not lose any votes, bcs his base is convinced he's a Good Person and good people don't do bad things, even when they do.

That's also why horrible laws get passed so easily by them, they just sit there and go "Why are you worried? This will only punish bad people. If you're a good person you won't suffer. And if you're not, well just try to be good, follow our rules, act how we say, then you'll be safe. You have nothing to fear unless you're bad, and you're not bad, are you?" They don't care how cruel they are or how many people suffer because the cruelty and suffering Is The Point.

Idk where I'm going with this anymore or what the solution is but realizing this really made a lot of things about the right Make More Sense and it helps to know that you can't really argue with them by talking about how people are suffering and we should, like, help them, bcs they believe the suffering is correct and justified and the only solution is MORE cruelty and punishment and suffering. They don't care that there are people struggling to pay rent and feed their kids bcs they make less than minimum wage bcs those people shouldn't have a minimum wage job and if they do they made a mistake and should be punished. Unhoused people? Hungry kids who can't afford lunch? Teenagers who need abortions? Families feeing violence and poverty by seeking asylum? Addicts? Victims of abuse? The disabled? They're all bad people who made mistakes and should be punished.

There are only good people and bad people and how will we know who the good ones are if the bad ones aren't suffering and being punished? And the left is crazy bcs they're trying to HELP the bad people. Don't they know the bad people need to be punished? There has to be a clear line between good and bad! Soon they'll make everyone think WE'RE the bad people and that's not true! We're good people, we live our lives the right way, we deserve to be treated as special, to be rewarded, they're trying to take that away from us! Force us to lay down and be treated like bad people, force us to respect the bad people, treat them as equals, treat them like they're better than us, turn our children into bad people, how could they do that?

We have to make sure that the bad people are punished and the good rewarded.

The cruelty IS the point.

[hidden-snow]

Just wanted to put this out there for anyone who might think otherwise; I will not apologize for who I am.

I have been accused so many times by people I thought I could trust. I've been taken advantage of, spit on, and treated like shit all my life. So if I come back with a nasty bite, just know its because I'm not a fucking dog. I've not been raised to lay down and roll over to expose my belly to motherfuckers who think they can dictate my life.

I don't give a shit whose feelings I hurt. Because you obviously didn't give a shit when you trampled over mine. So let's get one thing fucking straight right here and now:

Hello people.

I'm the one and only Hidden Snow. I had a writing account before with over 400 followers. I was in an amazing discord server. I loved the people in it. I was happy and I'd just started to grow comfortable with the people around me.

And then one day? I talked about my obsession over Hazbin Hotel. Yes. That show that a certain creator had made.

One of the server members made a comment that they hoped the creator would lose the show. And I responded. I stated that I hoped Vivziepop wouldn't lose the show. ONLY because I knew different people would change it. They'd change the characters, the plot line, everything. I didn't want the show to be changed.

And then, somehow, I got accused of supporting Vivziepop and genocide, despite me simply wanting the show to stay the same. Then, my amazing lovely @strongheartneteyam got accused of being racist when she attempted to stop the fighting and to control the situation so things would become peaceful again. The accuser claimed that they were going to go on Tumblr and accuse her publicly. So of course, to support my lovely pookie, I went on Tumblr and warned the people so that they'd be prepared for it.

In response, the accuser posted a "call out" post, claiming that I'd bullied them and that I was racist and "scared of them" because they were black. I CANNOT express how many times this same person, during the argument in the server, showed blatant racism against white women in particular.

To top it off, I never spoke to this person. Not a single time. I was mainly a lurker in the server, but the people I interacted with, I was familiar with them. This person, I didn't even know existed until they popped into the argument. And by that point? I had left the discussion to keep from saying something I might've regretted.

So tell me. Tell me how I was a bully and a racist when I never interacted with that person. Not even once. I have no idea why but I guess a lot of people nowadays only listen to half the story and then judge.

I lost many mutuals. I felt lost and alone, shunned by my "friends" despite me not actually having done anything wrong. I got tired. So I deleted my account. I took a week for my mental health. And I got angry. So fucking angry.

So here I am. And I will tell the truth, blatant or not. You can see it as bullying. You can see it as me being a horrible asshole. But I don't care anymore. Because I'm not going to let some petty big shots attempt to ruin my fight anymore. I'm not going to let them turn off my voice, just because it makes them upset or uncomfortable.

I'm done being a doormat, appealing to the bigger accounts in an attempt to win their hearts over. If you want to try and ruin me, fucking do it. Do your best. Because whether I lose followers or gain followers, whether I receive death threats or not, I'm still going to stand by my word and the truth of what I'm saying.

When I needed a shoulder to lean on? When I needed someone to hear out my side of the story so that I could clear my name, they shunned me instead. They ignored me and chose sides by ignoring my pleas for the truth to be revealed. They say they were "remaining neutral" in the matter, but when you listen to one side claiming something and then turn a blind eye to the other side, you're not staying neutral. You're picking sides. So yeah.

That's all I have to say on the matter. If you've found me through some of the bigger accounts complaining about me? Congratulations. You've found the asshole speaking their side of everything that has happened.

Because of these people, I wanted to end it all. Not just my career on Tumblr, but my life as well. I've never had my name drug through the mud unjustly before and I had no idea how to react. But now, I'm reacting. And I'm going to come back with a vengeance. I'm going to fight tooth and nail to show the sides of these accounts that have been shown to me. The sides that are hidden from their followers.