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#thinking. i guess idk
morgana-pendragon · 6 months
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can i verbalise a selfish thought for a moment. dont read the tags if thatll bother you or anything
#what with all this talk of colonisation and whose land what is it does make me wonder about what the bigger voices in these convos would#have to say about my country. like im genuinely curious bc idk how to categorise us at all. context bc i dont expect anyone to know:#the indigenous people of the land i live on were the arawaks & lucayans. however when this land was first colonised they were all genocided#and who are now known as 'bahamians' were brought over on ships. and then somehow we went from the spanish to the english who colonised us#as well. now my worry is purely hypothetical bc we are an independent and sovereign state right so there's no 'threat'#but would we be considered 'indigenous' ? i can't think we would??#but maybe my issue is that i'm looking at this philosophically rather than politically. cause politically we probably would#but while the us-israel-colonisation convo is a political one the stances are philosophical so ??#like (again. hypothetically) if the same thing were to happen here ig i just wonder how we would be dealt with#and then the land ownership convo as well baffles me & it has for a while. since at least 2020 when the whole 'cottagecore is bad' convo#took place with the arguments that the aesthetic romanticised stolen land and i wondered even then like ? are we in the same position??#is the land still considered stolen if the people inhabiting it were displaced themselves?? and didn't steal it??#and moreover if the people it was stolen from no longer exist to take it back?? man idk#im stunningly bad at articulating my own thoughts so if this was a mess im sorry and thanks for making it this far#and also pls tell me if this comes off in the same light as americans making this about their election. i really dont want it to. im just#thinking. i guess idk#stop talking abbie
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chiiswizz · 5 months
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I think they would be this kind of parents...
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glassphinix · 11 months
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dont ask how or why snapchat would exist in hyrule
bonus:
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tinartss · 3 months
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something something two guys walk into a garden
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soupthatwasreheated · 3 months
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Alice Dyer is NOT Tim 2.0. Their humor is completely different. Canon Tim is incredibly different from fanon tim. He is funny sometimes, but when it comes down to it, his humor comes down to “millenial who makes the occasional pop culture reference and is jokingly flirty sometimes”. He knows what a meme is, but his meme knowledge is not that far advanced from “I can haz cheesburger” cat. He is not hip with the memes. Alice is the one who is hip with the memes. Please let this woman be cringe and let Timothy Stoker be free from the chains of comedic relief meme guy.
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anervousmirrorball · 3 months
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the tortured poets department tracklist (album out april 19)
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redyrmes · 6 days
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phil but from a colour generator thingy i found
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kindledrose · 10 months
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an assortment of silly mimic angel grian doodles (ft. some other buttercup lads)
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theskywaslookingback · 10 months
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When I was 12 I was going to be married and have two children - Kathryne Elizabeth and David Chase.
When I was 9 my mom told me that when she was pregnant with me and took a bath, I’d roll around in her stomach like a dolphin. The thought made me sick.
When I was 17 I was in love with a boy who was a good childhood friend, and I wanted to marry him so bad I chased him away (we haven’t spoken in 13 years).
When I was 15 I kissed a boy for the first time. We dated for six weeks. I kissed him twice more, and the first time he put his tongue in my mouth I gagged.
When I was 16 I told my best friend that I didn’t understand the big deal about sex. In fact, I thought it was kind of gross. She laughed and told me to grow up.
When I was 6 I licked a boy’s desk in school because I wanted to give him cooties. I thought it was something like chicken pox.
When I was 18 I kissed a girl for the first time and thought “oh”.
When I was 14 my friend stayed the night and wanted to know if I wanted to kiss her. I told her no, because she had a boyfriend. She said it didn’t count because we were girls.
When I was 20 my stepmom told me that she thought asexuals were broken or mentally ill in some way. I stormed off to my bedroom and cried, but I didn’t know what I was crying for.
When I was 18 I had sex with two girls. After it was over I lay by myself at the edge of the bed, cold and hollow inside, and didn’t understand what I was so upset about.
When I was 11 I wanted to be a stay at home mom when I grew up.
When I was 19 I had sex with a guy for the first time. I didn’t hate it, was my first thought. My second was that I needed a shower as fast as possible.
When I was 7 I was hugged by someone and screamed because I didn’t want them to touch me. I didn’t have the words for it back then.
When I was 20 I had a panic attack before my fiancé came over to visit, because I knew we’d be alone and I knew I couldn’t tell him no.
When I was 20 I told him no and it didn’t matter.
When I was 15 I got caught looking up porn on my dad’s laptop. I got in worse trouble because it was gay porn. “You’re just upset with boys right now, you’ll grow out of it.”
When I was 5 my dad would read parts of the Bible out loud every night. He paid special attention to the parts condemning homosexuality, like he knew somehow even then.
When I was 19 I heard the word asexual for the first time, and dismissed it out of hand.
When I was 25 I cradled it to my heart like a balm.
When I was 20 I decided I was never going to have children.
When I was 19 I thought I was pregnant, and decided to kill myself if I was.
When I was 26 I said the words ‘asexual lesbian’ for the first time to myself, and crawled under the covers to hide.
When I was 28 a friend sent me a comic about aromanticism. I saw all the parts of me that were on display there and decided I wasn’t strong enough to acknowledge it just yet.
When I was 27 I told my friend that the only time I wanted to be married was when I was sick and wanted to be taken care of. The rest of the time the thought terrified me.
When I was 15 I told myself that no one would ever love me.
When I was 29 I decided that I didn’t care.
When I was 13 I thought I knew exactly what my life would be like when I was 30.
When I was 30 I was relieved to have been so wrong.
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golden-astrum · 4 months
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after finishing the indigo disk dlc i decided to redesign my own version of the main character. their name is, in fact, MC, and they like being a little shit to kieran
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mienar · 1 year
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remnants of where we have been
instagram | shop | commission info
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goodtimeswithgrian · 5 months
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coyote
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taxinealkaloids · 7 months
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two b-list sons of God and a second-rate resurrection
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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months
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perfect wife
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words: 1.9k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, mating press, established relationship, marriage, housewife stuff? cooking and cleaning
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog
it’s not that you enjoy cleaning all the time, but you get in certain moods, when your energy level is high and you got enough sleep the night before, that you absolutely love to clean, especially satisfying deep cleans.
today happens to be one of those days, and ever since you woke up, smiling at the note that rafe left you on his pillow, wishing you a good morning and saying he regretted not being there with you upon waking up, but also couldn’t bear rousing you from your sleep when he had to leave for work. it makes your heart flutter to see it signed not by his name but rather ‘from, your husband.’
you’ve been married to rafe for two whole months now, and it feels like a fairytale, somehow even better than being his girlfriend. you feel like a truly good wife as you already scrubbed all the bathrooms spotless before 10 am, and are now working on the common areas before hopefully cleaning the bedroom before rafe gets home from work.
you hum along to the music you have playing throughout the house wide sound system as you wipe down dusty surfaces, taking care to clean all the little crevices that normally get missed. 
time flies and before you realize, your stomach starts to grumble as noon rolls by. you take a pause from your work, having just finished the living room, and move into the kitchen, deciding to make yourself some food before getting to cleaning.
you love to bake, but cooking is not your favorite thing, so you make yourself something simple before you get a spark of creativity, making a stew to simmer so it would be ready by the time rafe got home around dinner. you finish your meal, having disregarded it halfway through to make the stew. 
you clean the kitchen while stirring occasionally before it gets to the point that you can lower the temperature and walk away, now off to clean the bedroom. you grab rafes hamper, filled with clean clothes that he didn’t have time to put away last night, too busy kissing and cuddling with you in bed.
you dump them onto the freshly washed bedsheets, taking the time and care to crisply fold everything or hang up what went on hangers. you even spend some time organizing rafes closet. he kept it pretty clean already, but you wanted to make everything perfect.
you run downstairs to check your stew before continuing onto your closet, it being a much bigger mess than rafes. you have a terrible habit of trying on clothes, deciding its not want you want to wear for the day, and tossing it onto the floor instead of putting it properly away.
“baby!” you hear rafe shout just as you finish up. you quickly flatten your hands over the comforter on the bed, smoothing out any creases to make the room truly flawless before you rush down the stairs, greeting your husband with a kiss as your arms loop around his shoulders.
“something smells good.” rafe says, taking a sniff of the entryway, the smell of the stew having radiated throughout the whole house.
“i made you food.” you tell him, smoothing your hands over his shoulders, keeping your body close to his having missed him all day. “it should be ready in about 30 minutes, just enough time for you to shower.” you know rafes routine well enough, he liked to shower right when he got home from work, to wash the day away.
“you’re the most perfect wife ever.” rafe bends his head to press kisses to your neck, making you giggle when he focuses on your ticklish spot.
“go shower!” you shoo him away, wanting him to have the soup when it is nice and hot.
“love you, honey.” rafe kisses your cheek before heading up the stairs. you echo the words back to him before heading towards the kitchen to check on the stew, but pause when you hear rafe calling your name from your bedroom.
you rush up the stairs, worried that you maybe accidentally threw something out that was important or moved something and he didn’t know where it was.
“what is it rafey?” you question, eyes wide as you see him looking around the room.
“you cleaned all this while i was at work? and put away my laundry?” rafe questions, seeing that even the baseboards have been cleaned of the bit of dust that always collects on them.
you give a shrug. “i like cleaning for you.” “you know you don’t have to do all this baby.” rafe moves to wrap his arms around your waist. “i mean i appreciate it, but don’t feel like you’re required to now that we are married.” “i know.” you smile, cupping his jaw in your hands. “i seriously just wanted to.” “okay.” rafe nods, satisfied with your answer. he knows you get little bursts of cleaning, but doesn’t want you to get the wrong impression about your role, even if you do stay home while he is at work.
“go shower.” you press a kiss to rafes lips before leaving him in the bedroom, smirking to yourself knowing that he’s about to see that you cleaned the bathroom as well.
you return to the stovetop, stirring everything together before preparing the final touches, even setting out the perfect silverware for the occasion, choosing the dining room for such a meal rather than the island where you and rafe usually eat.
you jump when rafe enters the kitchen. he always moves so quietly through the house that it catches you off guard.
“god, if we weren’t already married i would propose to you all over again right now.” rafe wraps his arms around your waist as you work on ladling the stew into individual bowls, deciding to keep the rest in the pot on the stove for easy splitting up into tupperware later.
“i like making food for you.” you hum. “don’t expect it all the time though, i also love getting take out.”
rafe laughs and nods his head in agreement, you have a habit of ordering food at least two times a week, making it a tradition on fridays to watch an episode of tv while you eat in the living room.
“let me carry them in.” rafe stops you before you can carry the bowls yourself, picking them up and following you into the dining room.
you blow on your spoon to cool the stew as rafe begins to eat, commentating over and over how delicious it is, even going so far as to moan and roll his eyes back into his head, but when you take a bite you can’t help but admit that it’s very good.
“when we finish eating-” rafe says after a few minutes of silence, too engrossed in your meal. “i’m going to take you upstairs and fuck you.” “rafe!” you giggle at the sudden lewdness.
“i’m serious, baby. i need to after you did all this cleaning, put away my laundry and made me food? i need to put a baby in you immediately.” 
“well… hurry up and get back to eating.” you gesture to rafe. you talked about having kids after marriage, but this was the first time since your wedding that rafe brought up actually bringing them into the world.
you both rush through the rest of your meals, leaving the dishes on the table to be taken care of tomorrow as rafe sweeps you into his arms, carrying you up the stairs with ease. he sets you down on the bed, his lips connecting with yours as he works on taking off his pants, throwing them in the general direction of his hamper before pulling away to pull your shirt off over your head.
“i can’t fucking wait to see you all filled up with my kid.” rafe says, massaging your breasts through your bra, unable to keep his hands off of them, even to take off the fabric covering them.
“need that so bad, rafey.” you whimper. you’ve always wanted to be a mom, and it feels like the perfect time to make that dream a reality.
“gotta fuck you now, princess.” rafe says, quickly taking his shirt off, his cock already completely hard as he pulls his underwear down, clearly excited to put a baby into you.
you reach behind your back to take your bra off before sliding your leggings and underwear down in one go, needing rafe just as desperately as he needs you. you move up the bed, resting your head on the pillow as rafe moves to hover over you. 
“i would eat you out or finger you but i need this right now.” rafe says, reaching down to rub at your clit as his tip presses against your entrance.
“i need you right now too.” you tell him, letting out a moan as he pushes in, moving slowly to let you adjust. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, rafes chest heaving with deep breaths, trying to control himself.
“you can move.” you tell rafe after a minute. he doesn’t give even a second for your comment to sit before he is thrusting in and out, making your joint moans echo throughout the room.
rafe presses sloppy kisses against yours, lips vibrating together when you’re both unable to hold back your noises of pleasure. “feels so good.” you whimper, his thumb still rubbing against your clit, never stopping making you feel good.
“i know it does, princess.” rafe says. “you’re doing so good for me. gonna fill you up real good.” “you’re gonna be the best daddy.” you tell rafe, and its true, you know just from the way he treats you, how he straightened out and takes care of you, that he’s going to be an amazing dad.
“fuck-” rafe curses, somehow able to move faster, slamming in and out of you, annihilating your cunt with the ferocity he is thrusting into you at. rafe is grunting with the effort he is giving as you grip his shoulders tightly, sure to leave red marks from your nails come morning.
“gonna go fucking crazy, your pussy is so good.” rafe says, as if he hasn’t already gone crazy with the way he’s fucking into you.
“keep rubbing rafe, i’m close.” you moan, back arching off the bed as his thumb rubs over your clit easily due to your slick.
“cum for me princess.” rafe begs you, needing to feel your cunt squeeze around him. you’d never deny your husband as he rubs you to orgasm, entire body shaking as your high hits you, moaning wildly as rafes cock maintains its blistering pace.
as soon as your clit pulses underneath his finger and your back settles back against the bed, rafe moves, pulling out briefly to reposition you, slotting his hands underneath your knees and pushing your legs up and open, spreading your cunt wide for him before his cock reenters you.
he begins to thrust immediately, keeping up the aggressive, feral pace. you’re so sensitive from your orgasm but you can’t complain when you know he’s working to get his cum inside of you, to fill you up, to grow your family.
“gonna cum.” rafe warns briefly, his words slurred out, his eyes half lidded from the ecstasy of your cunt as he pushes in for a final time, shooting his cum as deep as he can, leaning forward and pressing you into the mattress, not even caring as your thighs burn from the stretch.
rafe grinds himself into you until there is nothing more to release, moving your legs back to a more comfortable position but keeping his dick buried deep inside of you.
rafe looks at you with a smile, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. “gotta make sure it takes.”
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ohhgingersnaps · 11 months
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I'm seeing some frustration over fandom creatives expressing anger or distress over people feeding their work into ChatGPT. I'm not responding to OP directly because I don't want to derail their post (their intent was to provide perspective on how these models actually work, and reduce undue panic, which is all coming from a good place!), but reassurances that the addition of our work will have a negligible impact on the model (which is true at this point) does kind of miss the point? Speaking for myself, my distress is less about the practical ramifications of feeding my fic into ChatGPT, and more about the principle of someone taking my work and deliberately adding it to the dataset.
Like, I fully realize that my work is a drop in the bucket of ChatGPT's several-billion-token training set! It will not make a demonstrable practical difference in the output of the model! That doesn't change the fact that I do not want my work to be part of the set of data that the ChatGPT devs use for training.
According to their FAQ, ChatGPT can and will use user input to train itself. The terms and conditions explicitly state that they save your chats to help train and improve their models. (You can opt-out, but sharing is the default.) So if you're feeding a fic into ChatGPT, unless you've explicitly opted out, you are handing it to the ChatGPT team and giving them permission to use it for training, whether or not that was your intent.
Now, will one fic make a demonstrable difference in the output of the model? No! But as the person who spent a year and a handful of months laboring over my fic, it makes a difference to me whether my fic, specifically, is being used in the dataset. If authors are allowed to have a problem with the ChatGPT devs for scraping millions of fics without permission, they're also allowed to have a problem with folks handing their individual fics over via the chat interface.
I do want to add that if you've done this to a fic, please don't take this as me being upset with you personally! Folks are still learning new information and puzzling out what "good" vs. "bad" use is, from an ethical standpoint. (Heck, my own perspective on this is deeply based on my own subjective feelings!) And we certainly shouldn't act like one person feeding a fic into ChatGPT has the same practical negative impact, on a broad societal scale, as a team using a web crawler to scrape five billion pieces of artwork for Stable Diffusion.
The point is that fundamentally, an ethical dataset should be obtained with the consent of those providing the data. Just because it's normalized for our data to be scraped without consent doesn't make it ethical, and this is why ChatGPT gives users the option to not share data— there is actually a standardized way (robots.txt) for website servers to set policies for how bots/crawlers can interact with them, for exactly this reason— and I think fandom artists and authors are well within their rights to express a desire for opting out to be the socially-respected default within the fandom community.
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comradekatara · 28 days
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old man zuko was crazy for saying to korra “i was often aang’s counsel, and i would love to be yours.” i mean i guess they’ve had several decades in between shows to establish that fact offscreen, but textually, our only instance of zuko “providing counsel” to aang is when he tried to bully him into killing his dad for him. not exactly what i would qualify as imparting sage wisdom, but ok lmfao
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