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#I want to pretend longer
inkskinned · 1 year
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the thing is there's like, a point of oversaturation for everything, and it's why so many things get dropped after a few minutes. and we act like millennials or gen z kids "have short attention spans" but... that's not quite it. it's more like - we did like it. you just ruined it.
capitalism sees product A having moderate success, and then everything has to come out with their "own version" of product A (which is often exactly the same). and they dump extreme amounts of money and environmental waste into each horrible simulacrum they trot out each season.
now it's not just tiktokkers making videos; it's that instagram and even fucking tumblr both think you want live feeds and video-first programming. and it helps them, because videos are easier to sneak native ads into. the books coming out all have to have 78 buzzwords in them for SEO, or otherwise they don't get published. they are making a live-action remake of moana. i haven't googled it, but there's probably another marvel or starwars something coming out, no matter when you're reading this post.
and we are like "hi, this clone of project A completely misses the point of the original. it is soulless and colorless and miserable." and the company nods and says "yes totally. here is a different clone, but special." and we look at clone 2 and we say "nope, this one is still flat and bad, y'all" and they're like "no, totally, we hear you," and then they make another clone but this time it's, like, a joyless prequel. and by the time they've successfully rolled out "clone 89", the market is incredibly oversaturated, and the consumer is blamed because the company isn't turning a profit.
and like - take even something digital like the tumblr "live streaming" function i just mentioned. that has to take up server space and some amount of carbon footprint; just so this brokenass blue hellsite can roll out a feature that literally none of its userbase actually wants. the thing that's the kicker here: even something that doesn't have a physical production plant still impacts the environment.
and it all just feels like it's rolling out of control because like, you watch companies pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a remake of a remake of something nobody wants anymore and you're like, not able to afford eggs anymore. and you tell the company that really what you want is a good story about survival and they say "okay so you mean a YA white protagonist has some kind of 'spicy' love triangle" and you're like - hey man i think you're misunderstanding the point of storytelling but they've already printed 76 versions of "city of blood and magic" and "queen of diamond rule" and spent literally millions of dollars on the movie "Candy Crush Killer: Coming to Eat You".
it's like being stuck in a room with a clown that keeps telling the same joke over and over but it's worse every time. and that would be fine but he keeps fucking charging you 6.99. and you keep being like "no, i know it made me laugh the first time, but that's because it was different and new" and the clown is just aggressively sitting there saying "well! plenty of people like my jokes! the reason you're bored of this is because maybe there's something wrong with you!"
#this was much longer i had to cut it down for legibility#but i do want to say i am aware this post doesnt touch on human rights violations as a result of fast fashion#that is because it deserves its own post with a completely different tone#i am an environmental educator#so that's what i know the most about. it wouldn't be appropriate of me to mention off-hand the real and legitimate suffering#that people are going through#without doing my research and providing real ways to help#this is a vent post about a thing i'm watching happen; not a call to action. it would be INCREDIBLY demeaning#to all those affected by the fast fashion industry to pretend that a post like this could speak to their suffering#unfortunately one of the horrible things about latestage capitalism as an activist is that SO many things are linked to this#and i WANT to talk about all of them but it would be a book in its own right. in fact there ARE books about each level of this#and i encourage you to seek them out and read them!!! i am not an expert on that i am just a person on tumblr doing my favorite activity#(complaining)#and it's like - this is the individual versus the industry problem again right because im blaming myself#for being an expert on environmental disaster (which is fucking important) but not knowing EVERYTHING about fast fashion#i'm blaming myself for not covering the many layers of this incredibly complicated problem im pointing out#rather than being like. yeah so actually the fault here lies with the billion dollar industries actually.#my failure to be able to condense an incredibly immense problem that is BOOK-LENGTH into a single text post that i post for free#is not in ANY fucking way the same amount of harm as. you know. the ACTUAL COMPANIES doing this ACTUAL THING for ACTUAL MONEY.#anyway im gonna go donate money while i'm thinking about it. maybe you can too. we can both just agree - well i fuckin tried didn't i#which is more than their CEOs can say
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vunderjoy · 1 year
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ive been going insane about these troubled idiots for a month and only Now do i draw fanart, cannot wait for things to end horribly next week!!
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afewproblems · 1 year
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Give me Steve, Eddie, and Robin at a bar on a Friday night.
They've had a few drinks, and a shot or two when a song comes on, and Steve immediately jumps to his feet with an, "Oh shit!!"
It's Madonna's Get Into the Groove and for a moment Robin and Eddie think Steve is in pain, that he hates the song as is going to ask the DJ to change it.
Except Steve waltzes onto the dance floor, right into the center.
There aren't too many others dancing, it's early still, barely nine in the evening but the spot lights are on and the DJ flicks on the multicolor strobe as Steve parks himself on the dance floor.
Robin laughs and wishes she had brought the disposable camera instead of leaving it in her junk drawer at home.
Eddie meanwhile rolls his eyes, and pretends not to notice the tightness of Steve's jeans or how the light catches the flecks of gold in his hair and eyes.
He's been attempting to hide his pathetic little crush for awhile now, complaining to Robin every chance he gets when Steve does something particularly charming or handsome.
She tells him, as sagely as she can muster, to grow a pair and do something about it already.
But how can he, Steve was, well, Steve...lovely caring, hot as hell, Steve.
What chance did Eddie have?
So he sits there, miserable, nursing his beer, letting his eyes trail after Steve while Robin giggles beside him.
They've never seen him dance, it's bar, they're drunk, the worst that could happen is he makes an ass out of himself and they all go home with a great new story to tell the party later.
God Robin really wishes she brought her camera with her.
But then Steve is moving and he's fluid, never missing a beat. It's some kind of choreography, intentional and practiced movements that wouldn't be out of place in a music video. Eddie and Robin look at each other because, what the fuck, where did this come from??
And people are cheering and whooping, strangers scattered here and there sitting off of the dance floor. There's a sense of comradery, like they're all witness to something and being allowed to share and indulge in this little impromptu performance, but all too soon the song is over and Steve heads back to his seat with a small round of applause and a blinding smile pulling at his flushed cheeks.
"Steve, what the fuck was that??" Robin blurts out before Steve can even sit. Eddie nods, a little dazed, beside her and tears at the paper label on his beer bottle, maybe if he can keep his hands occupied he can keep them to himself.
"What was what?" Steve breathes out as he hops onto the stool beside them, Robin in the middle.
Robin's mouth falls open as her face scrunches into something exasperated but fond, "What was--that! The dancing!"
"Oh, that," Steve huffs with a lazy smile, he leans his elbow on the sticky wood bar and waves at the bartender to signal for another gin and tonic, "I used to help Carol with her choreography for cheer".
Eddie pinches his thigh below the bartop and chews the inside of his cheek as the image of Steve in the Hawkins High cheer uniform begins to solidify in his minds eye, fuck.
Robin elbows Eddie without looking, somehow reading his mind, and throws her hands out, beckoning Steve to continue because that isn't nearly enough information.
"Yeah, she'd come up with routines and you know, they are meant to be done with more than one person, and I mean she and I were friends before Tommy so," he shrugs and smiles at the bartender as they pass him the drink, "I dunno, it was fun, and I remember that one the most".
"Plus," he says with a smirk, "Carol always said the best thing about dance is that you can tell who appreciates the performance and who appreciates the person doing it," he winks as Robin scoffs and calls him gross, but Steve isn't looking at Robin.
Eddie swallows as molten heat creeps up his neck and over his ears, the urge to hide his face, run for the door, melt into the floor, is immense.
But Steve doesn't move his gaze, he smiles softly at Eddie and winks again over Robin's head which she promptly drops into her hands.
"I'm surrounded by horny idiots," she grumbles but the words are muffled in the din of the bar and her own hands as Steve tips his head back to the dance floor and holds out his hand for Eddie to take.
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doodlerh · 8 months
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ok rip i said id draw more but i can't </3
#h doodles#honkai star rail#trailblazer#caelus#march 7th#dan heng#hsr#i wanted to draw all three of em going like :D and being happy piled on top of each other but alas#i can't. ive been sitting with this in my drafts for Too Long#i no longer have da drive to draw em#tomorrow i'll be out till the evening but i think i'll finally draw double face#i also wanna draw some prosekai maybe bc i just ifnished the gamer event and i have so many thoughts#im gonna have to probably leave the house at 8am again ughhh i thought id be able to REST MORE now that my camp has ended#granted i wake up at 6am no matter what but i like at least three hours to just zone out#oh yea i still believe in caelus fidgeting w his clothes when hes stressed#its a normally fitting shirt but he keeps stretching out the hem bc hes always like yankin it this way and that#i think dan heng is v interesting (coming from a dont understand any of the lore standpoint) bc hes like#a what a billion year old dragon guy but he just pretends hes a human and becomes best friends w these two#i wanted to also do a thing about how they all feel awkward around each other but just want things to go back to normal#so they like hug n stuff..#and welt (who has plenty of his own secrets) tells him basically hey son u are always part of the astral express famipy#an dan heng who has probably been lonely till he came on the astral express is like :'(#okay. well. anyway GOOD NIGHT#less than a month till i return to school HELLO?#insane. i cant even think about it#im gonna see my roommie tomorrow!! yippee!!#gn all#sorry i couldnt draw more
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lets-try-some-writing · 3 months
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Survivors
The Pretenders have made attempts to spread. Efforts have been made to stop them, however fear amongst the Decepticons is growing. The Pretenders are appearing more and more often, always being cut down before they can return to their abominable creator. The Cons learn more with every Pretender killed, but the survivors still bear the scars.
Damus wishes more than anything else that he could have minded his own business long enough to not get involved.
Previous part here.
━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙
Damus never intended to get involved. He already had enough to deal with considering his outlier ability, his faltering memory, and the fact that empurata had done extensive damage to his ability to function normally. He didn't have the time or the motivation to join up with either faction when the war began, at least at first. He knew Orion Pax, well he knew of him at any rate. He was also familiar with Megatron's doctrine. As such, he took his time trying to decide which faction he would inevitably end up siding with. War would force him to choose eventually, but he was slow in his selection. There was no need to rush, not yet.
He saved up shanix, doing odd jobs for both sides as peace talks began to occur. Maybe he wouldn't even need to pick. At least, that was his hope as he got his life together. With the senate in disarray, they didn't care for the fact that he went to a medic and payed an absurd amount to receive a new set of servos and a proper face. Things were looking up for him and he couldn't have been more thrilled when his old mentor called upon him to do odd jobs and run calculations. Damus didn't know why Shockwave wanted him to collect seemingly random fauna and flora from on and off world, but he did as instructed and was paid handsomely for his services.
Part of him wanted to question, but after the Senate and his prior empurata- No, he refused to risk it. He was getting his life together and he was going to keep things stable. That was his hope. But of course, just as he found himself a spot working as a field scientist for a research facility, everything went to slag. Orion Pax dropped off the face of creation and in turn the war went to the pits and back. Both sides were in an uproar, so Damus tried to steer clear of it. That of course did not last, not when during an expedition underground for a few stellar cycles to escape the horrors of war, he met a mech who was far larger than he remembered.
"You are Damus."
"Orion Pax. It is a surprise to see you here."
"I come in search of the Matrix of Leadership. Do you know its location?"
"Legend says it returned to Primus after Sentinel offlined."
"Do you know the path to Primus's core?"
"Maybe? I can try, but I don't work for free Pax. I am not the lost mech you knew. I have a life, a job. I am not risking it by helping out the Autobots without something in return."
"You desire payment?"
"Obviously. I know the tunnels well enough to get you going in the right direction at any rate."
"That is sufficient. Should you complete this task adequately, you will be rewarded in due time."
There was something very off about the mech who Damus was pretty sure was Orion. But he decided whatever it was, he didn't want to get involved. Orion had been gone for stellar cycles, probably on this foolish mission. It was in his best interest to get Pax where he needed to be so he could get his aft but up to the surface and stop the panic. And so that's just what he did. He walked Orion down the right paths until he didn't trust his memory to lead him further. Orion, or at least the mech who looked a great deal like Orion, watched him with calculating optics and nodded before vanishing into the dark. He decided then and there that he didn't even want to be paid, not when this mech was staring lasers into his spark during their entire walk.
Not his problem. Not his problem.
That was what he chanted to himself as Optimus Prime emerged onto the battlefield not long later and Damus found himself with no choice but to join up with the Decepticons for his own safety. Something was very wrong with Optimus Prime, although he couldn't pinpoint what exactly it was. He was just WRONG and looking back at the tunnel incident, Damus regretted guiding him. He did everything in his power to steer clear despite being with the Cons technically. His hope was that by staying in the city of Tarn, he could keep away from whatever was going on in the war. Being a researcher behind the lines was his safest bet. He didn't even care about trying to make something of himself. The job could frag itself now that he had his face and servos. He just wanted to stay as far away from all of it as he could. Whenever he left the safety of Tarn for whatever reason, he seemed to run into trouble.
Optimus met his gaze twice from a distance. Damus purged after each incident. The Prime was focused on him, and something deep in his spark told him that was a death sentence. A few times he caught sight of another one who gave him unsettling feelings. A yellow scout, one who the records stated was designated as Bumblebee once he finally worked up the willpower to look him up. Then there was the third, the last one that confirmed Damus's fears. Ratchet was the CMO of Cybertron before the war, but now he was on the battlefront every now and then... and he was different. There were rumors that he got ill and then miraculously recovered. But looking at him from a distance? Damus got that same feeling, the one he got when he saw Optimus. Those three were wrong, and so he tried not to leave Tarn for his own safety.
He was concerned to say the least. But he was safe in Tarn. Of course that was fine until Megatron began laying down rules that Damus and many others didn't understand. There were constant warnings about an infection originating from Autobot lines. Medics were suddenly being trained en masse and were promptly put absolutely everywhere. Medical procedures grew more invasive and frequent, constant sanitation became the norm, and any soldier that presented even the slightest behavioral difference after battle was taken away, often never to be seen again. There was also the sudden appearance of strange armor suits that mecha amongst the Decepticons began to wear. There were whole propaganda campaigns urging every soldier to get the suits for their own protection. The bulky things covered every possible part of the frame, and somehow Damus got the distinct impression that something darker was going on behind the scenes. Things weren't adding up.
His fears were confirmed when Optimus Prime decided it was time to give Damus his payment.
Damus had no time to react when the Autobots launched an attack on Tarn shortly after the destruction of the Senate. Damus hid with the rest of the non combatants, but the Prime was quick to appear on the battlefield and tracked Damus down like a bloodhound when he tried to run. Optimus Prime found him huddled amidst the ruins of the bombed out fortress he called home for so long. And it was there that the Prime, no, the monster, ruined his entire life.
"I promised you payment. I have come to offer it."
"GET AWAY!"
"You are one of his students. You will be useful."
"Primus no-!"
He could only scream as the thing's jaw came apart, splitting into a maw of mandibles. Then just as quickly, a squirming bug of some sorts was lowered toward his right optic. It was agony as the thing wormed its way into him, and all the while the monster above him seemed to smile in its convoluted way. All he knew was pain as the thing left in a hurry and he was promptly collected and dragged away to a place he didn't know.
He remembered medics, dozens of them all practically buried under the protective suits the posters were always advertising. He remembered screaming in agony as they worked on him, doing something to his helm and much of his torso. But then it ended, and Damus was left in an isolated room, strapped down to his berth with heavy chains, and standing before him was the one and only Megatron who also wore the suit.
"What in Primus's name happened to me?"
"You were infected with the Pretender larva. We managed to remove the larva itself, but its roots have already spread."
"What does that means? What is this?"
"Listen closely Damus. We don't know where it came from, but the Pretenders are creatures that infest a host and devour them in order to wear their frames as disguises. Optimus Prime is one of these creatures."
"Then he-"
"He spread the infection to others, including yourself. We have found hundreds of others like you in various stages of infection. We have done everything we can to reverse the effects, but all we have accomplished is slowing it down."
"So... I am going to die?"
"Yes. We slowed the infection to a crawl and your life will be extended through frequent surgeries to remove the largest of the roots. However, it will kill you one cycle."
"I will become one of those monsters."
"Only if you give in. We have installed an explosive in your processors that will eliminate you at a moment's notice. This is not out of cruelty, but merely to ensure you cannot become another tool for the Pretender plague."
"I see..."
"You will die, but you need not do so without honor. You carry part of the Pretender genome. With it, you will likely find you have new abilities, most notably, an inbuilt radar which will point toward other Pretenders."
"You want to make me a tool."
"I offer you a choice. You can die here with a quick and painless offlinement, or you can serve us and use your curse to ensure others do not suffer the same fate."
"How many have died due to this?"
"Thousands. We find more every cycle. The thing that calls itself Prime is prolific and must be eradicated."
"Then... I will serve. I will make sure this CURSE cannot spread."
"Good. We will have need of you Damus."
"Please, call me Tarn. I want that monster to know that the city it destroyed yet lives on. That I still remain defiant."
Damus, or rather Tarn took one look at his face and knew what he needed to do. The larva had buried itself into him, and so to remove it, his face that he spent so long achieving was now devastated. However in his rage, he found he didn't care. He wasn't afraid anymore. That monster took his entire life from him. Condemned him to eventual death alongside countless others. He refused to let the newly named Pretenders be. Not after everything.
He wanted to not be involved. But now he had no choice. Passivity got him infected. And so until he perished, he would fight. He could feel the new strength that hummed in his fuel lines. Evidently, the Pretenders were more than simple infiltrators. The world was brighter, more noisy, and far less frightening. The thing within him would kill him, but until it did, he had its strength as its own.
The Pretenders were going to DIE.
With Megatron's aid, Tarn was given access to all he needed. Every moment was spent on the hunt, and the few he found in time to save quickly joined his ranks. Other mecha, each survivors of the larva. Together they grew in number and slaughtered the Pretenders in their cradles. The things were so very weak when young. Tarn could feel the rage of the one called Prime. But he merely smiled as time went on. Every Pretender killed was one less threat. Megatron's warnings now made perfect sense.
An infection was spreading across Cybertron, and Tarn was going to stop it.
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bother-blame · 6 months
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You say that no one appreciated you!? Bullshit! No one could stand to let you go! We never once abandoned you! It was all for you!
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bisaster-energy · 5 months
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(you are the truth I...)
the truth, The Front Bottoms // a tribute to castiel's truth
happy belated november 5th
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maxwelljacobfriedman · 11 months
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Highlights of MJF and Cody’s unhinged relationship
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fuckyeah-bears · 6 months
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i genuinely genuinely love when someone sends me an ask on bearotonin telling me about katmai fat bear week
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alsojnpie · 29 days
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hey. um. i love him
#O_O i really love him#it's getting warmer every day and i can't draw him in a sweater for much longer#by the way. is this site going to. yknow. die#sigh........i kept telling myself I'd get better at it one day#kind of like the way i tell myself i can get together courage to speak up but i never do#using another website just sounds so depressing#im not good at social media. im tired of pretending like i can get good at it#but you can't even pretend like you can jump into a conversation if no one is having a conversation#i wanted to be part of a community here but i never could figure out what belonging looked like or how i could do it#and maybe it's my fundamental misunderstanding of that that prevents it but how can i understand it without experience#I'm so jealous of everyone who looks like they achieved what i couldn't even put my finger on. but since i didn't even understand it#i can't even be sure what exactly im jealous of#the other day i walked past a trio of friends and they had their arms around each other and were laughing as they walked#and i felt really strongly that even though I've always wanted a friend like that I'm actually fundamentally incompatible with that.#there's several reasons#but it made me feel really sad. but it made me feel a little better too. i guess it's really not my fault. maybe. i don't really know#in that moment it felt very much like something that was not my fault. and it was nice and sad at the same time#idk what's going to happen here. but one thing i know for sure is that i can have a happy tomorrow. no matter what#no matter what i have to give up on. i can find joy in other things. even in myself#and if there's one idea that he is about. it's that one
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Books of 2024: NEVER WHISTLE AT NIGHT: An Indigenous Dark Fiction Anthology, ed. by Shane Hawk and Theodore C. Van Alst Jr.
This has a bunch of authors I already love in it (Stephen Graham Jones, Darcie Little Badger, Waubgeshig Rice, and Rebecca Roanhorse!!), and several authors I've been meaning to try (like Tommy Orange, Nick Medina, and Kelli Jo Ford, to name a few), so I'm really hyped for them all to be together in one volume! Plus dark fiction is very much my jam (especially when it comes in a bright and colorful package).
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fictionadventurer · 8 months
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Things To Make August (the Month of Existential Dread) Bearable
Pray. A lot.
Plan little summer adventures.
Write a fun little retelling (and hopefully finish it).
Read an Elizabeth Goudge book (Book 3 of the Elliot trilogy seems right, because Book 2 is coming to mind a lot as an appropriate summer book).
Remember that sunflowers exist. Find lots of them.
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silverstarfoxx · 8 months
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He pulls at my heartstrings
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socksandbuttons · 5 months
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oh i read this fanfiction!
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pcktknife · 10 months
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absolutely nothing important in this clip but I finally got the whole nimbasa trio together in the lobby
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soldier-poet-king · 3 months
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'im doing so well! I'm never happy or motivated in January!'
I was soon to realize the folly of this hubris however....
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