#ranty pant

[buttercupsfrocks]

Yo, tumblr.

Some thoughts I’ve been having of late to accompany yet another variation of this Monki frock, from last year’s summer sale, if memory serves me correctly. What can I say? When something works, why fix the dang thing?

I miss Fatshionista. For those who weren’t acquainted it was a livejournal community that, at its zenith, boasted about ten thousand members worldwide, mainly cis women and trans folk; all fat, most political about fat, and all of the mind that fat people should be better served for clothing options. While the community had its fair share of drama around hot button perennials such as cultural appropriation, it also provided plenty of food for thought. I did at least as much shutting up and listening as I did rolling my eyes, which is saying something at my age. Not that I was my age back then but I was still at least 20 years older than everybody else on there. Or why I lurked for a year before sharing my first OOTD. But it’s that aspect of Fatshionista I miss the most, the honest feedback, the helpful advice, the pooling of resources like whether anyone had tried their luck with such and such a brand, and if so what its merits or shortcomings were.

As the internet morphed and the fatosphere grew, the community went in one of two directions. The most politicised became the next wave of activists, penning blogs that spawned newspaper articles and book deals; while the style mavens started blogging and collaborating with the fashion industry, firstly as as models, then as designers, and consultants. At the time many criticised this commercialisation whereas I felt more positively inclined. By my reckoning the more our community made inroads into the mainstream, the more clothing options we’d have. The more clothing options we have the better we feel, the better we feel the more confident we become in our right to take up space and advocate for ourselves in other areas, eventually resulting in a societal shift in the way fat people are perceived and treated. Idealistic? Sure. And probably not in my lifetime but, to quote the zeitgeist, every ending has a beginning. 

These days, however, I’m beginning to think those who lamented the commercialisation of fatshion had a point. Bloggers became vloggers, influencers, and content creators, shilling for anyone who asked, and all the while claiming to give honest reviews. (Ever read a bad one? Me neither. Or why I turned down Bon Marché and J D Williams). And amidst all the shiny!shiny!new! and lucrative brand collabs, genuine honesty slowly bit the dust, along with the ingenious hacks, instant feedback on quality and fit, and most of all the celebration of true, diverse personal style. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still 100% less pernicious to fill my feed with than mainstream ladymags and sometimes I even get to see women with my body shape. But, just like the mainstream ladymags, it’s exclusively youth oriented. And a depressingly unimaginative, cookie-cutter interpretation of youth at that. And, while I’m aware of how predictably get-off-my-lawn that sounds, I have had a gutful of balayage, beachy waves, drag queen contouring, porn-mandated bald poonani, fake tan; and nail, hair and eyelash extensions. Femininity has never been so prescriptive, performative or oppressive in my lifetime and I was born in the sodding 50s. 

As static images on Insta are superceded by reels, and the next even fresher means of flogging fashion waits in the wings to replace them, has the plus size retail landscape changed all that much since Fatshionista? For the better in terms of online resources, though larger and infinifats are still often short-changed. On the other hand there are literally no dedicated plus-size bricks and mortar chains left in my city. Evans, Elvi, Simply Be, Taking Shape, and Anne Harvey are either online or defunct, and we never had a Yours to begin with. All the big stores with plus-size departments bit the dust on the high street aeons ago, and any mainstream chain that wants our custom still won’t stock the clothes in store or show them on plus sized bodies on their websites – even those that target an older demographic. Which is why Seasalt, Boden, and White Stuff can continue to whistle for my hard-earned dosh. Though there’s always the stand alone Marina Rinaldi boutique where a plain neoprene sweatshirt will set you back £290. 

Or perhaps not.

…which circuitously leads me to the other thing that’s been chomping at my gusset of late. Ethical shopping bores. Don’t get me wrong. I habitually recycle, have shopped secondhand since I was 15, and have jetisoned ocean polluting sponges and clingfilm for life. I draw the line at Ecover washing up liquid mind; it’s rubbish. (See? Honest to a fault). No, I’m talking sustainable clothing labels. Well, the few that deign to make plus sizes in any event. I’m talking clothes you have to take out a mortgage on. You can start guilt-tripping me about buying my clothes from places I can afford when fat women enjoy the same plethora of choice that straight-sized women have. And I swear if I have to read one more sentence with the word “intentional” in it, I’ll boak. If most of the vloggers spouting this holier than thou hooey really only bought two items a year when their predecessors were hanging in ribbons, they’d have mighty short careers. But maybe a wardrobe full of five hundred quid Selkie backhanders doesn’t count. 

It’s intentional alright; on the part of the brands who’d go tits up in short order if their customers didn’t buy owt from one end of the year to the next. What it isn’t is honest. 

Here endeth the rant.

#OOTD #What I'm wearing #What I can afford #Fatshion #Older lady fashion #Plus size style #Monki #Ecco #Got my ranty pants on

[shouting-at-the-telly-though]

I see the 'destroy yourself for love' theme just keeps on keeping on.

You know what we need more of? Stories where people can love deeply and thoroughly without ripping out bits of themselves/their personalities/their powers.

#dance of the sky empire #ranty mc'rant pants #i just have Opinions about romances welp

[morallyinept]

Feast On This - A Max Phillips GIFLET

Uh, Jett, what the heck is a GIFLET?

Just a short 500 words or less drabble, based on inspiration that I got from a GIF. Simples.

Pairing: Max Phillips x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It's you, bub.)

Word Count: 500

Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶 "Don't hurt me, cadejo."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here

GIFLET MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

This GIFLET was inspired by the below GIF 👇🏻 and was an ASK request from @thatcultbabe-99 - Hope you like it, lovely! 🖤

The phone won’t stop buzzing, and Max sighs with an agitated growl.

“Leave it,” you whine, pulling on his tie pleadingly.

But he gently slips the silk of it out from your fingers, and you watch him reach for the phone on the coffee table.

Your phone.

Your phone, which currently has sixteen unread messages, and several missed calls from over the last few hours. All from the same determined number.

Max shakes his head, swipes over the caller ID and holds it to his ear.

“Hey champ… What? Oh no, no. She can’t come to the phone right now.” Max winks at you. “Why? Oh, because I currently have her naked and riding on my thigh.”

Smiling at Max, you continue to rock gently across the material of his pants, leaving a stickly slick as you grind.

You can feel his other hand on your back, nails gently digging in to keep you steady.

“Oh, you should see her, man. It’s fucking pretty as a picture.”

He keeps talking as you build, nodding encouragingly at you with those animated eyes. You rock a little faster, feeling it bloom.

“See, I don’t know why you felt the need to stick your limp dick inside another girl. I mean, dude. This pussy here is fucking magical.”

Max swipes his fingers down to your cunt and sucks them with a squeaky pop loud enough for your soon-to-be ex to hear down the line. “Mmm… delicious.”

You can hear the ranty voice cut in and Max rolls his eyes, imitating chatter with his hand opening and closing like a duck’s beak at you.

Losing the feeling slightly, you stand up and spy the sticky patch glistening on his pants back at you.

Watching you carefully, Max lies back into the couch cushions, his hand slipping into his pocket, giving his rock solid cock a squeeze as he listens to the ranting drone on in his ear.

He growls again.

“Listen, you little shit. I’m going to fuck your girl. She’ll like it. She’ll beg me for more and I'll give it to her. Any way she wants. Then, I’m going to turn your girl and watch, probably jacking off, as she rips your head off your neck and drinks from it like a chalice, 'kay?”

Max hangs up the phone and tosses it behind him; it disappears down the back of the sofa.

He stares at you, hungry. Hard.

“Come here and sit that tasty pussy on my face.” He beckons, still laying back on the couch, and loosens his tie.

You smirk as you crawl up to him, kneeling over his face.

“Was he mad?” You groan, as he swipes his tongue inside your folds, lapping gently at your clit.

“Hopping.” He replies, into your centre; a face full of you as he pulls you by the hips to fully sit on him.

“Mmm… good.” You reply, fingering through his hair, as the cocky vampire starts to feast on you.

🖤

#max phillips #max phillips bloodsucking bastards #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #max phillips smut #max phillips x you #max phillips x f!reader #jett's writing #jett's giflets

[teddie-bear420]

tier list

OPINONS UNDER THE CUT

warning this is super long and ranty but does have some silly doodles ill post else where :)

-teddie bear 420

I have had several dreams about vaggie and lute and alastor, they plage my every waking moment. one was me going to smooch city with alastor (very scary that man does not wash his teeth). the others vaggie just shows up sometimes

really liked vaggie in her angel flash back, her hair cut was so cute, not a fan she still has pink eye but what eves. I LOVE HER PONY TAIL THO, give my girl better hair styles!!!

do you think theyve explored each others bodies?

I hated lute at first cuz, just look at her. you could get snow blindness with how white that woman is oh my lord. but once the 8th episode rolled around with hot women fighting my brain kinda clicked on for our old second in command. i keep going back to her in my brain and slowly morphing her into a heart broken lesbian who has a superiority complex and bullies her crush and then moves on to having a sugar mama situation ship with Lilith.

alastor is just so fun and silly, and there's this one x reader fic that ive made fan art of, you've all seen it. i just love this guy but i like to imagine he's a woman just for me :)

i understand why he is a fan favorite

i love charlies look but i hate how childish she is, like girl you are like 24 kill your friends pimp. nifty molly emily are all so cute and i enjoy looking at them. cant wait for the nifty episode (delusional)

i do love nifty more than the rest of these ones tho. i see lots of folks talking about how nifty is alastors daughter or angel dusts little baby daughter SHUT UP

SHES 25 YEARS OLD AND MURDERED HER HUSBAND IN HER SLEEP. NIFTY CALLED ALASTOR OVER TO HAVE THEIR LUNCH DATE AND HIDE THE BODY!!!

OK maybe nifty lives in my dreams too

do you think theyve explored each others bodies?

mimzy makes me mad cuz the show hated having her there clearly, like why is she the only fat person in hell. dont worry girl, I'll appreciate you once again i have to make alastor a dyke for my own sanity

do you think they-

lilith and rosie are good to look at, i like how rosie talks and her showtunes, god i love her show tunes. pentious is the only yellow dude in hell. velvete looks like ass most of the time but I LOVE A BAD BITCH

like i said, no strong feelings

ok most of these dudes are too ugly or too annoying and i hate when they are on screen, lucifers pants are his skin, angel dust has the worst fashoin sense ever UGHS I HATE HIM WHERE ARE HIS TITS WAAAAAA

also i love that her name is sarah, thats such a basic name, like i can type alastor x reader and theres a bunch of results but if i typed sarah x reader, shes no where :(

also shes got that mlp horse face going on i love it

i despise carmilla carmine, i hate her dumb horns, i hate her unnamed daughters, i hate her skirt, i hate her song, i hate her blazed ass eyes, i hate her long hair

vox just looks bad i cant lie

OK ADUM MAKES ME SO MAD HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN JACK BLACK WE SHOULD HAVE SEEN HIM BEING A FAT BASTARD CUZ I WAS CONVINCED HE WAS ANOTHER SKINNY TWINK also i am an anti shipper when it comes to adum x lute cuz that shit is weaaaak. he is so mean to her and not in a hot way, adum is some incel and lute is a goddess

yeah, #adumisoverparty 2024 the most divorced man in heaven

i can not wait for season two dude, im so pumped

#teddz stuff #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #alastor #vaggie #nifty hazbin hotel #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk

[jomiddlemarch]

A handshake is available upon request 

“There used to be offices. Actual fucking offices, doors, windows, generic black and white landscape photography in a black frame because they wanted to be a little edgy, architect-school-wannabes,” Nina announced at the water cooler, which had been moved out of what was nominally the kitchen-slash-lounge, so that it was less appealing to stand around and chat. They weren’t allowed to bring in their own water bottles however, because their bathroom breaks were strictly regulated and a full Stanley on even 50% renal function equaled more time away from their screens than they were allocated. The water cooler had tiny paper cones to drink out of and if you didn’t swallow the whole thing right away, the paper would start to turn into mush in your hand. It wasn’t compostable though, because collecting compost would take time out of someone’s schedule that didn’t generate income.

“Really?” Alina said, keeping her voice lower than Nina’s. Nina was a veteran, relatively speaking, having survived the layoffs in ’18,’19, and ’22 and she wore Grimace purple Converse to the office on casual Fridays. Alina was approaching the end of her 90-day probation and needed to keep the job for the benefits more than anything else. The pay wasn’t great but there was vision and dental.

“Yeah, that was before all this cubicle shit,” Nina said. “If you don’t believe me, ask Gen. She remembers—”

“They said it would build morale. We’d all be interacting and sparking ideas or some nonsense like that. Like they want us to have ideas,” Gen offered. She was a bit more circumspect than Nina, which wasn’t saying all that much. She’d been assigned to show Alina the ropes the first week and fortunately, they were becoming friends. Well, work-friends. “They also took out all the vending machines except the one on the 24th floor.”

“The one with the ancient turkey sandwiches?” Alina said.

“Doesn’t ever need to be restocked, does it?” Nina said.

“We’re all just drones now,” Gen said. “Look what they did to David—”

“He was lucky he didn’t get fired for finding that loophole,” Nina said. Gen could get ranty about David, whom she’d had a crush on for like a year and who barely spoke to her, even though everyone could tell he was interested. “It’s worse what happened to Alex. That’s an absolute fucking nightmare.”

“What happened to him?” Alina asked. She’d seen Alex around, a tall, impassive dark-haired man with a close-cropped beard in the standard corporate uniform—charcoal or navy pants, button-down, no tie, cross-body nylon satchel—though she’d thought if he ever smiled, he’d probably be quite the looker. Not that he’d ever look at her, just one step up from a temp. 

“You know he basically built the place from the ground up, but I guess he was over-leveraged, there’s some rumor about his mother being in a crazy expensive assisted living with like a private nurse, but he doesn’t talk about her. After the takeover, he couldn’t afford to leave or he wouldn’t, there’s no real agreement on that part, and anyway, they took his top floor corner office and stuck him on 11. He’s got a door but no windows, can’t even keep a goddamn aspidistra alive in there,” Nina said. 

“Shit, there’s tattle-tail Tatiana and she’d coming over,” Gen muttered, then plastered a broad and clearly fake smile on her face, ducking her chin slightly to make her pony-tail bounce. “Hi, Tatiana!”

“Your reports ready to be filed?” Tatiana, the ostensible division supervisor, said. She looked lacquered, like she’d been manicured head-to-toe and left under the UV drying lamp a little too long. She didn’t smile but made some kind of smile-adjacent expression that showed her teeth. She must have the high dental plan because she clearly had caps.

“Just about,” Nina said. “Talk to you later, Alina—”

“After work,” Tatiana said. Nina nodded, then winked at Alina when Tatiana turned to squint across the floor at the cubicle Matt sat in, his blond head towering over the felted-composite wall.

“Yes, I was just going,” Alina said, though Tatiana had lost interest and had pivoted, obviously intending to walk over to Matt and find some reason to interrupt him. He’d play up his Norwegian, acting like he didn’t understand her, when Alina knew he was completely fluent in English, but he’d figured out it was the easiest way to get Tatiana to move along without getting saddled with additional work.

“Alina, maybe you can do me a solid? I left a folder on 11,” Nina said. “Can you run it down for me before you finish your break—”

“Break’s only 10 minutes. You better hurry,” Tatiana said.

“Of course, not a problem. Teamwork makes the dreamwork, right?” Alina replied as cheerful as a cartoon princess slogging it out in the forest with gnomes or dwarves or a nosey bunch of rodents, aware it was Day 84 and that she needed Tatiana to sign off on her or at least not have a reason to dump her. She was also aware that Nina had no folder, but that there was an office supply closet with the folders they used on their floor and that it was right next to the only office on 11. The office that evidently belonged to Alex, former CEO, now cooped up with a withering aspidistra. He could maybe use a cup of what passed for coffee in what passed for a general collegial friendliness, if you discounted that they worked in a cold steel skyscraper engaged in the soulless corporate grind.

For @iamstartraveller776 who suggested Evil Universe Trope "no coffee-shops, bakeries, florists...only cold steel skyscrapers in the soulless corporate grind" and with thanks to Severance for making it mainstream :)

#darklina #evil universe AU #soulless corporate grind AU #you can also watch Severance #alina starkov #aleksander morozova #nina zenik #genya safin #david kostyk #baghra morozova #sort of pre-darkling but that's the real heart of it #ficlet #modern AU

[ehh-is-the-name]

iii 19 spoilers 'cause holy fuck man.

I have been making iii posts since 2021. You bet your fucking ass I'm making one with all my thoughts on the season finale.

And yes, it's Mephone-centric because I'm a meeple head. This time I'm not apologising for it.

This is more of theory and sobbing than the other ones but, let's be honest, we're all doing that anyway.

- - -

Ballpoint has been a guiding light in all this shit. I hope we hear more from him later on. Like, thank you for giving this phone the reminders he needs- Either way, scene 1 that made me a little insane.

Not gonna lie, I hated Springy before this ep. A character can't just look at Mephone when he's on the ground and say "The show's broken because he's broken" and not be public enemy #1 to me. Sorry, that's just the way things are. But, since they got a lot of development in this one, I can forgive (and also because Cabby kinda put them in their place but I digress). I kinda see what he said as like... projection for not being able to fulfil their purpose as a mascot advertiser. I'm probably preaching to the choir on this, but the whole "this IS my mask" and the "You thought I was helpful" were very much in tune with that projection thing. Hell, I might even like Springy now that I think about it...

You know... It probably took me way too long to realise that Walkie Talkie was, well the actual walkie-talkie. But whatever- This whole thing being 2 androids created to fulfil a purpose (reminds me of a certain creator-) and the whole obsession with fulfilling that purpose makes me fucking insane.

Scene #3 of insanity: This almost got me to shit my pants. I think we all are on the same page that it's Cobs who made Walkie Talkie and sent her here. I'd kinda be mad if it wasn't at this point (I blame that on me being a meeple head). Though, this got me thinking about what Walkie's purpose actually is. Was it to take over ii? Was it to watch mephone? Was it to watch mephone but she went rogue and tried to take over the show??? I wanna know her story so badly. If she was one of Cobs' creations, would that make her related to mephone-(more on that later). Anyway, I know mephone... and I know I'm not wording this right but I'm tired- I know he overcame his trauma associated with s2, but like every season someone has been built specifically to take him down and- there's no way he's fully alright after this finale. Even with knowing he has support... Maybe that's the point. Maybe the point isn't that everything's ok now, but he's getting better. God I love hate this phone. Show? Everything. It makes me ill.

CRITICAL INSANITY MAXIMUM INSANITY SHITTING PANTS INSANITY

When I say this scene made me scream, it made me scream. I literally woke up my mom from seeing 4s on the scene. I know a lot of us feel this way, but like WE HAVEN'T SEEN HIM IN FUCKING YEARS I'M STILL INSANE ABOUT THIS MAN!! Him coming back from the dead just to be like the most supportive sibling ever is killing me and NOT softly. Mephone breaking this cycle of people dying for him is the extra kick in the balls, man. I AM BROKEN AND HOLLOW BUT FULL OF LOVE AND WHIMSY BECAUSE OF THIS SCENE. I almost took the day off after watching this ep, because of how much it changed my psyche.

Also I've run out of images at this point so fucccckkin' hell part 2 is here like the finale was split into 2 parts.

And yes, the images are necessary to my ranty madness. nav: part 2 & part 3

#iii 19 rant/reaction #iii 19 spoilers #ii spoilers #inanimate insanity #ii mephone4 #meeple ii #osc #ehh exaggerates

[doctor-fancy-pants]

Generic Medications Rant (or PSA)

(yes I copy pasted it from my Twitter because it turns out that Twitter hasn't entirely imploded yet and it's still my automatic Ranty Pants outlet)

PSA: reminder that generic brands of medications are not actually always the same. Bio-availability varies because the inactive ingredients vary, and these affect absorption rates, delivery of relevant molecules to bloodstream, etc. To be approved, I think a generic brand has to demonstrate somewhere between 85 to 125% the same... look, I'm just gonna call it "bloodstream payload" because it's late and words are hard, okay? And it might not deliver that over the same time frame.

[I needed to look that up. Original tweet had 135% which is a typo, it is 125%. And my phrasing is really misleading, mea culpa! That's not the amount of bioavailable medication, it's a numerical index. Absolutely my bad. Very tired.]

Here's the more detailed correction: the dissolution profile of a generic medication - oral capsules, tablets, etc. - applying to the TGA for approval in Australia must show at least an 85% dissolution profile match to the reference drug. Furthermore, they must provide clinical trial data detailing bioequivalence to the reference drug (which must be a medication already approved for use in Australia), bioavailability testing, peak plasma concentration, time to peak concentration, rate of increase, etc. etc. It's involved, and there are medications for which the range is narrower at 0.9 to 1.11, but for most it seems to be in that 0.8 to 1.25 range.

Reiterating that it this is a numerical index evaluating the overall profile and plasma concentration etc. It's not "you only get 80% of the drug", it's not a raw amount, it's more that the pattern of delivery and absorption, as demonstrated in those specific clinical trials on healthy subjects (sigh) must have a similarity index of 0.8 - 1.25. The actual amount involved is a lot narrower, which is why if there are differences in how someone is metabolising a drug, it will be quite subtle, and will mostly affect someone who is sensitive to those differences. It is nevertheless a pretty common phenomenon, but more information on bioequivalence here.]

Back to the Twitter thread!

I'm tweeting about this again because it's been a while but tonight I encountered a young bright spark of a pharmacist who insisted that the generic brand Zoloft should be the same.

and you can FUCK RIGHT THE FUCK OFF with that bullshit

Disclaimer: I was not rude. I was not even stern. I was firm and possibly a tad more forceful than I would have preferred, but there was no ill will on either side (that I could see. Factor in: I am oblivious).

But it pissed me off. This should be common knowledge by now.

I've been on Zoloft - with brief breaks - since 2001. Dosage has varied. I was on a generic at one point, and noticed no change, so at least I'm aware of one generic that will work for me.

At one point, though, I was put on a different brand. APO.

And I started having paraesthesia, otherwise known as "brain zaps" to those who have experienced that. It's a common withdrawal symptom of SSRIs, and I never get them for ANY OTHER REASON.

EVER.

My dose had not changed.

...but the fucking manufacturer had.

I was really puzzled. Digging around online (and feeling confused and skeptical, because whenever I question anything a doctor or pharmacist has told me, I feel like I'm two overconfident steps away from the anti-vaxxers), I found that this is actually pretty fucking common.

Insulin-dependent diabetics have learned, to their sorrow, suffering and grief, that not all brands of insulin are created equal - in spite of what manufacturers and prescribers and (in the US) insurers insist to be the case.

But that many people are not imagining the effects of inadequately managed diabetes. They just aren't.

Generic manufacturers aren't making the same medication. They are attempting, for the most part, to reverse engineer it.

This is not as reliable as anyone would like.

And this many people are not imagining brain-zaps and withdrawal from anti-depressants on which they were previously very stable.

I should not get withdrawal symptoms from a medication that I am still taking.

I went back to the pharmacy and started saying "no generic." It wasn't until there was a shortage of Zoloft brand sertraline (which has happened a few times) that I questioned that decision.

Another pharmacist pushed the generic, insisting quite firmly that it was the same.

I started to doubt myself. I'm not a pharmacist. I'm not a doctor. I'm a fucking marine biologist. What the fuck do I know about pharmacokinetics? Fuck all, that's what.

So I gave it a shot. And then - this is important - I forgot that I had done that.

The brain zaps started up again. Slow at first and then with increasing intensity. And I was in the most bizarre denial about it - even after I remembered.

Because the pharmacist had said with such WILD confidence that they were the same.

They fucking are NOT.

I got mad. This was several years after the first incident, and online access to good information (alongside dreadful information) had increased. Now, very reputable sources of generalised medical advice were saying "check with your doctor before switching to a generic."

I respond best to the Pfizer brand of sertraline. Second to that, I can take Eleva. What I can't take is APO. And now I no longer allow myself to be steamrollered. I have data. I have sources. I have qualified professionals in this area (including in patent law) who back me up. In hindsight it's wild that you would expect identical product from divergent manufacturing processes, particularly in different countries with different regulatory infrastructure and frameworks. The same "active ingredient" is not always going to be in the same form. It's not always going to be something your body can metabolise or tolerate in the same way. Particle size, capsule material, binding agent - all can make a significant difference to something as finely tuned as an anti-depressant. I respond best to the Pfizer brand of sertraline. Second to that, I can take Eleva. What I can't take is APO.

(sidebar: last time I got mad about this, I looked into Apotex and, uh... look it's an old article but it does not inspire confidence, does it?)

And I also can't take the idea that this bright young pharmacist, afire with good will and misplaced confidence, will steamroller other people with her inadvertent "gaslighting by profound ignorance." Not everyone will push back or have such an obvious withdrawal symptom. And if their depression is poorly managed, or their diabetes is out of control, or their heart medication is not quite right, they won't always think of the brand! Especially if their pharmacist reassured them! The consequences are, at best, suffering. At worst, tragedy. Look, some people can swap brands easily and they'll be fine. Some are more tolerant to fluctuations in that bloodstream payload. Some medications are more robust as well. We just can't presume that to always be the case. So no, I don't have a lot of mental space for good intentions around this issue. A response like "oh that's weird, it should be the same" is expected from a layperson, but from a pharmacist, it just makes me think you've been living under a fucking rock. That response would make sense 20 years ago. Now, it should be "yeah, that happens a lot." And for what it's worth, some people respond better to a particular generic than the original patent brand. Bodies are fucken weird, yo. Anyways, I've belaboured the point enough, I'm just pissed off that I got pushed that hard, and worry about people who can't push back as confidently. I've been steamrollered into bad decisions. It sucks. So: if you've had odd symptoms after changing brands, and if you have doubts about your generic? That's extremely valid, and you want to be able to rule it out as a cause.

Stand your ground, as best you can. And stay safe. -Doc out

#rant #PSA #medication #generic medications #outdated medical advice #gaslighting #yes that was 25 Tweets even without the big correction in the middle look I am not pithy okay #pharmaceutical manufacturers are not all created equal #how the fuck is this news to anyone I don't fucking know

[gooeyyeehaw]

Capitalism? Piracy? Hoco?

Here's more of a ranty post because I'm frustrated right now.

For my homecoming at high school, the theme was "Under the Sea". I figured dressing up as a pirate could easily be appropriate enough. I ordered a good-looking black shirt and red pants and am pretty disappointed with the results. I, of course, was not expecting stellar quality coming from Amazon when the prices were fifteen and twenty. I was excited to try them on the whole day but was taken aback when they arrived in the mail in one of those clear, slider zipper sort of bags.

When I tried them on, not only were they not a great size, but they were extremely wrinkly and the color of the pants was not quite as shown in the photo. I was pretty disappointed, but I'm still going to toss them in the washing machine to see if that will have any effect.

I'm more frustrated because I have no time to find anything else, and I'm not exactly a conventional dresser, meaning I cycle through my entire wardrobe and don't have anything saved for special occasions, which was the source of my excitement for the new outfit. I'm unsure what to do next because I was hoping to show up in something fresh and exciting, but I don't have any time to buy anything online. Do pirate-themed shops exist?!

The whole situation has really just made me jealous of Stede Bonnet's wardrobe from OFMD. My outfit was supposed to emulate the cursed red suit he finds in S2E5, but I didn't really succeed in that and just ended up looking stupid.

Who knew piracy would be so expensive?! Especially for a profession involving theft, and well, piracy. How do they expect me to ravage and pillage if I can't look good? It makes me really reflect, this first came up when I was watching Rio Bravo, how do cowboys and really any sort of historical figure afford all the nice clothing they wear? I mean think about the amount of leather both of them wear.

#piracy #pirates #our flag means death #homecoming #what the fuck am i supposed to do #help me please

[monstrousgourmandizingcats]

@teabooksandsweets tagged anyone who wanted to do this meme, so I’m going to treat her as having tagged me.

Favorite music to bring the Christmas spirit into your home?

I have traditional and usually expressly religious taste in carols. My all-time favorite is “In the deep midwinter,” which moves me to tears the first time I hear it each year. The church @canastigone and I went to the other day had it as the Eucharistic hymn and it worked incredibly well, even though they probably shouldn’t be playing it yet on Advent Sunday.

Movies you have to watch during the Christmas season?

The only two absolute musts are It’s a Wonderful Life and A Charlie Brown Christmas, but I usually end up making time for at least one other of the old warhorses as well. A year or two ago it was White Christmas, a deeply deeply weird movie in ways that are underdiscussed today.

Favorite way to decorate for Christmas?

Very traditionally. I have a big Nativity set that my aunt made in a ceramics class for bored housewives in the early 1960s that I set up at some point during Advent; I put Jesus in His manger on Christmas Eve and then move the Magi and their camels gradually closer through my house. This year I’m considering getting a potted Norfolk Island pine instead of a cut conifer, which is a wild and crazy departure from tradition by my standards.

Do you have special Christmas-y clothes?

Not apart from my normal winter wardrobe--tons of knitwear and scarves, sturdy pants mostly in earth and jewel tones.

Favorite smell of Christmas?

I’m going to quote @teabooksandsweets verbatim here because I agree with her entirely:

“Firs! Firs! Firs! Winter air, cinnamon, mulled wine, that dusty smell of old decorations…”

Tagging @carys-the-ninth, @connanro, @itsallwearecalledtodo, @lilaccatholic, @morepopcornplease, @marzipanandminutiae, @meleagrides, @valiantlydecadentsuit2, and @ace-and-ranty!

#give me love give me memes #christmas

[ehgood-enough]

Yesterday was a rough day at work. The day before having gone so well I decided another Chris Evans movie would help and it did the afternoon flew by

I’ve watch captain America civil war a bunch. I think this was the movie that changed my opinion on captain America from the lame stick in the mud 2 dimensional super hero to actually seeing the character. This is man who got shit on by life over and over and still manages to see the good out there. He stands up for what is right even when it’s not in his best interest. The government in marvel is not good. I mean just look at the prison they put Bucky in. Where’s my man supposed to go to the bathroom? His pants? How’s he eat? Drink? And tony stark just going along with Ross and his shit ass accords. That guy is all types of wrong if Ross is saying the sky is blue you should be looking out the window to check before agreeing because it might just be yellow.

Yeah I guess this movie makes me a little ranty too. I do enjoy it though. My favorite captain America movie and one of my favorite marvel movies

#movies i’ve watched #captain america civil war #chris evans #marvel #good movie #fuck tony stark

[toastingpencils37]

Crystals and Blood (Ninjago Is Always On Some Shit)

This is going to be the first fic in my Eclipse Born AU. This one isn’t by any means crucial to read for when the plot actually starts up, but I still wanted to get it out there.

A brief piece of context I want to add before you go on to read this fic is that in this AU, Vangelis is a Fraud Skull Sorcerer. Skull Sorcerers are Elemental Masters or Beings of Death that are also, well, Sorcerers. Vangelis is not a Death Elemental, nor is he a Skull Sorcerer. Not that he knows that, because Hazza D’ur didn’t bother to inform him. In the AU, Hazza D’ur was a previous Elemental Master of Death, but there’s a lot about that that’d I’d have to get into, and it isn’t really important to this fic, so I’m not going to right now.

I had tried to change it to “Crystals and Blood (Ninjago Is Always On Something)”, but that just didn’t flow right, so I stuck with the original name. 

The next fic written in the series will be the Series Prologue itself, which will show the actual event of something that will be referenced a lot within the series. That will be my first multi-chapter fic, having two chapters.

(Also, real quickly, as a brief alert concerning author’s notes in this series – and the end notes of this fic, sorry – they will be quite long. I can get quite ranty, especially about this AU. And these lengths are even with me withholding information. So yeah. When I get to the actual season fics, they probably won’t be this long for every chapter, but there will definitely be long ones. That aside, have fun reading!!)

Ao3 version

I will probably update this with cover art and possibly more art to add into the fic itself.

6K Words

Trigger Warnings:

Blood

Summary

Finding herself in Ninjago City during the Crystatrophe and not being able to go back home for some time due to magic complications, Jes has to find some way to pass the time. And find ways to deal with the silence and Crystals. Because Ninjago City is not always a fun place to be. Especially while in a lonely situation like this. Even for someone immune to the Crystals.

Running down a street, a figure wearing a black hat and sleeveless outfit along with a white mask pants for breath, seeming to have run for a while. The person darts into an alleyway, skidding to a halt when she realizes that it is a dead end, muttering under her breath, “Shit, shit, shit.”

Behind her, multiple pairs of footsteps can be heard, thumping on the ground as they run after her, accompanied with a multitude of voices yelling at passerby to clear the way.

Glancing behind herself at the sound, her left eye flashes green whilst the right flashes orange in alarm. She turns back to the dead end, staring at the wall. Then, quickly, she pulls out a piece of chalk and rapidly draws a circle (albeit shitty and bastardized) that a person could easily fit through.

Stepping back, she watches the circle transform into a portal, and leaps in just as her pursuers finally reach the opening of the alleyway.

Emerging and landing on the other side, the portal closes behind her. Noticing the sting in her arms, especially the left one, she glances down with a hiss.

On her left arm, she has the typical mystic scarring from occasionally using too strong magic for her skill level reaching up to the palm of her hand. However, the new mystic wounds just opened from the creation of the portal are much longer, stretching all the way up to the elbow, with purple blood slowly seeping out of them.

Her right arm has new and old scars such as these as well, albeit without the blood due to the arm being mechanical rather than organic.

She just stares at the sheer length of these new scars, baffled by the implication that she, an experienced sorcerer with expertise in portals, had somehow gone far beyond her limits.

She snaps out of her bafflement once she notices some of her purple blood starting to drip off her arm. She reaches towards one of her back pockets to pull out dark gray bandages in order to cover the blood and stop it from flowing.

While bandaging her arms, she looks up at the sky, which is strangely overcast with dark purple clouds. She frowns, knowing damn well that clouds of that color are not a regular weather pattern. Standing silently, she also notes just how silent the whole area is, with no people around whatsoever.

Cautiously, she walks towards the street, which is oddly very empty except for a few cars and pink crystals scattered across the road, including a big blue prison bus sitting in front of… Borg Tower?

Left eye turning light blue and the right turning pastel orange, she gasps in excitement, she rapidly darts across the street without bothering to look both ways, halting in front of Borg Tower with a grin on her face. She peers up at the massive tower, saying to herself, “Ohoho, me, Jesiba Ramirez, being the first to be at, let alone in the city of, Borg Tower! Ohhhh I just have to send this to Derek and Kiera! They’re going to lose their fucking minds!”

Her right eye becoming a pastel purple, Jes pulls out her phone and takes a selfie of herself wearing a shit eating grin and the extremely tall Borg Tower sitting behind her. Pulling the phone up after taking the photo, she attempts to message it to her siblings, frowning when her phone declares she has no cell connection.

“No connection? But I thought Derek patched that up… Riiiiight, I’m an ocean away from home,” Jesiba says, proceeding to stand still for a couple of seconds with a stupid smile on her face before her left eye flashes green and her right light blue in panic. She exclaims, “Oh shit I’m an ocean away from home! I somehow portaled across an entire fucking ocean?!”

Beginning to pace around, she starts ranting to herself, “I somehow portaled across an entire fucking ocean?! How? I thought Hazza’Dur had his wards or whatever preventing me from doing so!” Pausing and putting her finger on the mouth painting on her mask, she continues, “But he is dead dead now.”

Stopping and taking a deep breath, Jes stands quietly for a moment in an attempt to calm down. Then, looking back at where she emerged from, she states to herself, “I just need to open a portal and return home. Easy peasy.”

Walking towards a building wall, she pulls out a piece of chalk, pressing it against said wall. However, she hesitates, looking down at her left forearm, on which the bandages are stained purple with blood. Seeing how far up the bandages stretch, she pulls the chalk away from the wall, realizing that she can not safely create another portal to return her home without causing more damage to her arm, possibly even extending beyond minor surface damage.

Looking behind herself at the desolate cityscape, she mutters to herself, “Looks like we’re staying here for a few hours until my arms calm down and heal.”

Stepping back from the wall and putting her chalk back in her pouch, Jes turns around. Taking a dramatic step towards the street, she declares, “Well may as well make the most of it and explore this city, though strangely desolate today!”

Beginning to walk down the street, she begins her solo tour of Ninjago’s Capital City.

__________________________________________

Approximately ten minutes later, Jes is still walking around the city, although less enthusiastic than she was before, now feeling more perturbed by the silence of the city, as well as the presence of those strange pink crystals. Sure, she knew that Ninjago City constantly went through the craziest shit, but this was actually pretty creepy.

But maybe that was just because she is not used to experiencing a situation such as this. But on the other hand, she would swear that whenever NInjago City attacks showed up on the news, people would typically be present in the videos, whether they were running away from the assailants or just going on with their daily lives as if nothing was going on (as well as all the commercials filmed in the heat of the moment while attacks are happening).

Coming to her surroundings, Jes realizes that she had stopped walking, and is now just standing on the sidewalk staring into space. Shaking her head, she prepares to start walking again, but stops when she hears a voice speaking along with the sound of marching, though the thumping of footsteps did not sound regular at all, and sounded more like rocks hitting the ground.

Before Jes has the chance to duck into hiding, an army of Vengestone warriors with pink crystals just like the ones littering the street walk past the corner and down an intersection, turning at the sight of the random woman in the middle of the road.

Perplexed at the utter absurdity of these crystal monstrosities just standing there, Jes cocks her head, just staring, left eye turning bright pink and bright blue in confusion.

While staring, another creature with pink crystals but no Vengestone that Jes had not noticed flying around prior lands on the ground forcefully. Strangely enough, the flying gray creature had no eyes whatsoever.

She then notices the person standing on the creature’s back, who was not someone she ever expected to see again after the whole shitshow in Shintaro over a year ago, where the Earth ninja had slammed Hazza’Dur’s skull into the ground, rendering the False Skull Sorcerer powerless.

And yet, Vangelis was standing on the creature’s back, wearing the mask of a Death Elemental, yet no Skull or ghost of Hazza’Dur within sight.

The two stare at each other for a couple moments, both taken aback by seeing the other wearing the Skull Sorcerer’s mask. Then, as an attempt to appear cool and unphased, Jes goes to lean on a pink crystal to her right, to the absolute confusion of Vangelis, definitely not waving her arm towards it and fumbling as a way to find it. Once she is finally able to lean against it, left eye flashing light purple and the right bright pink in embarrassment, she props her chin on her hand, questioning, “So, back to being the Fraud Skull Sorcerer again, I see? Now, where’s your little skull friend, just so I know who to have a teensy conversation with?”

Having never seen this person before in his life, Vangelis promptly forgets about the impossibility that Jes had just committed by leaning against the crystal, and takes offense to the title she called him, shouting, “The Fraud Skull Sorcerer? I am the one and only Skull Sorcerer!” 

Rolling her eyes, Jest retorts, “Suuure you are, buddy. Let me guess, you could whip up an army of dead bodies right now using your non existent elemental powers, am I right?”

Before he is able to respond, some sort of communicator dings, and a feminine voice speaks in an irritated manner, saying stuff that Jes cannot make out. Grunting in exasperation, Vangelis says, “I have somewhere to be and no time to deal with ‘fans’ of myself.” Waving his hand to five of his Crystal Warriors, Vangelis orders, “Take care of her for me. And make sure to do what that useless chunk of crystal did and Crystalize her.” With that, the crystal winged creature he is standing upon takes off into the air, and the rest of the army proceeds to begin marching again.

Pushing herself off the crystal, Jes exclaims, “I am not a ‘fan’ of you! Wait, what do you mean Crystalize me? What does that even mean?” Before Jes can say anything else, the Crystal Warriors charge at her. Jes quickly squares up, bouncing on her toes, ready for a fight, and mutters to herself, “Why did I leave my sword at home?”

She catches one of the warriors with a punch to its Vengestone jaw, sending it reeling to the side. However, the other four warriors grab onto her, pushing her down in an attempt to Crystalize her like they had done countless civilians within the city already, causing her eyes to revert to a light green on her mask due to the Vengestone. 

Using her left arm, upon which the blood from her wounds is starting to seep through the bandages, she pushes on the warrior’s by its crystal arm, attempting to throw it off. But before Jes gets the opportunity to properly do so, her purple blood makes contact with the crystal, causing it to explode with a shattering sound.

Flabbergasted at whatever the hell had just happened, Jes’ left and right eye do not flash any color, unlike how they normally do. Unlike Jes, however, the Crystal Warriors are unphased, and still attempting to Crystalize her, which mainly just involves them standing and touching her. Jes kicks them off, jumping to her feet and looking at the warriors.

So, doing the most obvious thing you should do when you apparently have magic hands that can shatter pink crystals when you touch them, Jes proceeds to run up to one of the warriors and punch it on its arm. With the right arm. The one that has no Oni blood on it.

When it does nothing, Jes stares at her arm confused, and then jumps away from the warrior, squaring up for another hit, yet again bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Another of the remaining four warriors quickly rushes at her, which is a surprise due to how slow they generally move, and swings its crystal tipped weapon at her. Ducking to the side, she moves her left arm up, then shoves the elbow down on the warrior, her blood making contact with pink crystal yet again and shattering the warrior, leaving the number down to three.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Jes exclaims, appalled. She catches a whiff of Oni blood, causing her to sharply look down and finally notice the blood seeping out of her bandages. “Ah fuck,’ Jes mutters, “My bandages are leaking? This almost never happens!”

However, before she is able to properly readjust her bandages, the final three warriors surge towards her, going in for their final attacks.

Jes, who is now sick of the entire situation, shouts, “Come on! Will you fucking quit it already! I have bandages to readjust!” She proceeds to fight the warriors, exchanging and dodging blows with them. Throughout all of this, she avoids using her left arm, trying to keep her blood from potentially touching and destroying anything.

After knocking one of the warriors’ staffs to the side, she kicks both that warrior and another away, turning towards the one now closest to her. She bends down, using her left arm to grab at the staff and pick it up. Yet again, for the third time, however, when she touches the crystal, it explodes.

Staring at it, Jes finally realizes what is going on and what is causing the warriors to shatter. Smirking to herself, left eye flashing purple and the right orange, Jes quips, “Third times the charm I guess.” Then, eyes flashing light purple and bright pink again, she mutters, “Though it should’ve taken me less time to realize that.”

Fixing her attention back to the warriors, now all standing again, Jes rapidly unbandages her left arm, and holding the blood covered bandage in her right arm, runs towards the warriors. The warriors march towards her, in no rush to attack, and prepare to explain blows. However, when Jes comes near them, she jumps and flips over the three of them, landing behind them. Whipping around, she presses the palm of her hand against the back of the middle warrior, quickly darting away right after her bloodied palm makes contact with the crystal and shatters it. Then, she lunges towards the warrior on her left, throwing her arm out to make contact with the crystal. Once contact is made and the warrior explodes, she pivots towards the one on her right and whips the bandage in her right hand out at it, making sure one of the wet bloodied parts touches the warrior’s crystal.

Following the shattering of the final crystal warrior, Jes steps back, and takes a deep breath, eyes becoming a calm brown and blue. Then she lets the air out, breathing in again, and proceeds to holler while throwing her hand with the bloodied bandage up in the air, “Take that, fuckers!” She subsequently gloats, taunting the now nonexistent warriors, “You just got destroyed by Oni blood! Personally, could not be me!”

Calming down again, jes glances down at her left arm, which still has the glowing wounds upon it, signifying that her body is still recovering from the massive amount of magic used. She sighs, knowing she cannot currently make a big portal jump like she had to accidentally get to Ninjago, stating, “Guess I have time to kill.” Still looking down at her arm, an idea pops up in her mind, and she rapidly glances at some of the pink crystals scattered along the street. Jes advances towards one of the crystals, and then slowly stretches her left arm towards it, palm spread out. She lightly makes contact of her palm with the crystal, causing it to immediately explode underneath her fingers, despite not pushing much force outwards.

Jes pulls her hand away from where the crystal used to be, and smirks down at her arm, declaring, “And I think I know just how to pass said time.”

__________________________________________

A group of three Ninjago City civilians striving to find a safe place to wait out the Crystastrophe walks carefully and quietly down a sidewalk, hoping to avoid any Crystal Warriors or Crystalized civilians.

Coming towards a street corner, one of the people peers out past the building at the corner to check that no Crystalized person was anywhere near waiting to ambush them. Seeing that it was all clear, he motions for his two companions to follow him, and begins to walk down the street towards the next place they can temporarily hide.

After five minutes of constant jogging and hiding, they finally come across the next intersection.

However, this time, when the lookout peers around the corner to check that no one is there, he notices one of the members of the Council responsible for the whole Crystatrophe walking around, going up to crystals and tapping them, all while making an annoying “Bap” sound every time they touch one of the crystals. Which was all in all a very strange action for one of the people responsible of the the Crystals sprouting up everywhere to be doing, but what truly concerned the civilian was that the person touching the crystals was slowly going down the street towards him and his group!

He retreats back behind the corner, quickly ushering his two companions back down the street from whence they came and into a small alley, gesturing at them to be quiet. Confused by what was going on, one of his companions fumbles around and knocks a box off another within the alleyway, causing a loud thump to sound from within.

__________________________________________

Walking down a street, Jes goes from crystal to crystal, pressing her bloodied hand against them, saying, “Bap” every time she touches and explodes one. She heads towards a corner, not really trying to go to one particular place in the city. After all, she is just destroying the crystals to pass the time and let her body recover enough to make another portal to head back home. However, when Jes begins to cross the intersection, she hears a loud thump sound towards her left, coming from the street perpendicular to the one she is currently going down.

She turns around and sees three people staring at her with terror in their eyes. Uncomfortable by the emotions in their gazes, Jes leans her left side against a crystal right next to her as a way to appear nonchalant. And then proceeds to harshly fall against the ground with an “Umph” when her blood makes contact with the crystal and shatters it, causing her support to vanish out of existence.

Jes quickly gets up and brushes her clothes down. Glancing up at the people, she states, “Well, what a situation is going on right now, eh? Ninjagois always on some shit, am I right? Or am I right?” She grins, clasping her hands together while waiting for a response.

However, the people within the group exchange glances, nodding to each other as looks of determination cross over their faces, proceeding to dart out and rush at Jes. The apparent leader of the group shouts, “We will not let you take over Ninjago, you monster!”

Shocked, Jes dodges backwards at their slow and clumsy attacks, exclaiming, “Take Ninjago? What? Why would I take Ninjago?” As one of the civilians punches at her left arm, she has to extend it out of reach, reproaching, “And stay away from my arm! I don’t want to bleed on you, okay?”

Despite that, the group keeps on trying to attack Jes, who in her attempts to not harm them, keeps moving backwards. While taking a step back, the heel of her foot knocks against a loose crystal. She quickly picks it up and swings it towards one of the people as a way to stop them from attacking without actively harming them, shouting, “That’s it!”

Yet, despite not meaning any harm, when the crystal makes contact with the man’s body, he starts to go through a painful transformation, writhing around. Eyes turning purple and green, Jes fearfully steps back, staring in shock at what is transpiring, all while holding the crystal that caused it.

After the man fully becomes crystal, his companions begin screaming and running away. Alert at the sound, the crystal zombie slowly ambles towards them, gaining speed as he chases them.

Still staring in shock and fear, Jes looks down at the crystal in her hands, dropping it as her hands begin to shake. While staring, Jes hears the two people screaming, and snaps her head up to see the zombie running after them. Then, she runs towards the zombie in an attempt to prevent it from attacking the two uncrystallized civilians.

Catching up to and surpassing the zombie, she grabs a chair outside a cafe nearby and hits the zombie with it, knocking it off its path. Distracted from its previous targets, who continue running away, soon out of sight as they turn a corner onto another street, it then starts ambling towards Jes to attempt to Crystalize her and spread the crystals across the city. Throwing the chair to the side, Jes prepares to punch the zombie with her bloody arm, before realizing that doing so may result in the zombie exploding like all the other crystal things she had touched rather than going back to normal. So, running to where she threw the chair to pick it up again, Jes rushes back to the zombie, proceeding to try to temporarily pin it down.

After succeeding in doing so, she quickly climbs up a two story building to its roof, walking towards the edge and staring down at the zombie. The crystal zombie quickly frees itself and rushes towards the building, just roaming around once it realizes that it cannot easily get up onto the roof where Jes is perched. Looking down at the zombie, Jes sadly says, “I’m sorry. But I can’t help you. If I try, you’re more likely to get hurt than if I don’t. Hopefully the ninja will help you or something. I don’t know.” Cracking a weak smile, she says, “Never been to Ninjago before.” Turning around she runs on the roof, and leaps onto another building, and another, traveling away from the crystal zombie.

__________________________________________

Climbing a taller building and looking into the windows, Jes notes that multiple people are residing within it, presumably taking shelter from the whole situation going on outside in the city. And now knowing what those crystals were capable of doing, it made sense to Jes why no one was outside. But they were not being very quiet about it. Though they were in higher stories of the building. So maybe they were not as concerned about being found by the Crystal Warriors as they would be if they were closer to the ground. Climbing a few more stories to the roof of the building, Jes pulls herself onto the roof and leans against the entrance to the stairs leading below.

Ignoring the sounds of whatever everyone was doing inside, she looks out towards the sky, her attention drawn towards the big floating island with an Oni face carved on its front situated around the middle of the city. Emotionally and physically tired from the whole situation, Jes looks down at her left arm again, which still has the glowing scars reaching up her forearm, the upper half had considerably dulled. Seeing that she probably had about an hour or two left of waiting, Jes says to herself, “Heh. Have more time to waste, I guess.” Yawning, Jes makes herself comfortable against the rooftop access. Jes begins to nod off, falling asleep a couple of minutes later.

__________________________________________

A bright purple blast jerks Jes awake, who notices many crystals now growing on the building’s rooftop. Jumping up, Jes shouts, “What the fuck!” After realizing that nothing is coming to attack, she calms down, relishing in the silence. 

Jes looks around, noticing that the floating island had drifted towards a different part of the city while she was asleep. Then, she realizes just how quiet it is, with no one within the building making any noise. Panicked, Jes darts into the rooftop access, throwing open the door and rushing down the stairs, trying to find someone.

Only to find everyone Crystalized. But this time their Crystalization was different. Unlike that one guy Jes had seen get Crystalized, these people were not moving at all, and were instead stuck in one position, most with fearful faces. Walking through the crowd of stationary people, Jes stares in shock. 

Shaking her head in fear, Jes turns and runs towards the stairwell, running down all the flights until she reaches the bottom story, at which point she runs out of the building. 

She runs out onto the street sidewalk, stopping when she sees all of the new crystals laying everywhere, the city somehow even more silent than it was before. 

Breathing hard, Jes then grabs her hat and pulls it down on her head as if trying to adjust it, hysterically saying to herself, “This is fine! Everyone except you is just a statue of crystal!” She laughs. “Bet this happens all the time in Ninjago!”

Then taking a breath, she says to herself again, “Stuff like this happens in Ninjago all the time. And then the ninja will somehow swoop in and defeat the big bad, and everything will be alright. No reason to be worried.” Turning towards the crystals that are almost completely covering the street now, she raises her left hand, saying, “And I’ll destroy some of these crystals to help, and definitely not because I have no idea what is going on or what to do!”

Walking to one of the crystals, Jes places her hand against it, only to find that nothing happens. Confused, Jes looks down at her hand to see that the blood has finally dried, and the scars have stopped glowing.

“Orrr I could go home now.” Looking around at the Crystalized city, she asks herself, “Would that be wrong of me to do?”

While contemplating, some of the crystals around her begin to fall apart on her own. Baffled, Jes looks around her, wondering what is happening, right before a bright yellow light flashes from the sky behind her. Turning around, she catches sight of the floating crystal island exploding into what looks to be white and yellow sparkles, and the deep purple clouds mysteriously vanish without a trace, revealing the time to be around sunrise.

Face breaking into a smile, Jes says, “See? I knew the ninja could handle it!”

People start to exit from the building she had come from, rejoicing at Ninjago City having been saved. However, one of the people rejoicing notices the Skull Sorcerer standing in the street, and shouts at the rest of the individuals, “Hey! It’s one of those goons responsible for this whole mess! Get him!”

Diverted from their rejoicing, the small crowd turns to Jes, who, not wanting to be attacked by civilians thinking that she was Vangelis again, says, “Shit,” turns tail, and runs. A few of the people run after her, but Jes climbs a building, pulling out a piece of chalk once she hits the roof.

Drawing a massive (and again bastardized) circle on the roof, Jes laughs, saying, “Funny how I got here because I was running from people and now I’m going home because I’m running from people. Except now it’s random civilians!” Once she finishes drawing her circle, Jes activates the portal using sorcery, and then jumps in, landing on her bed in her bedroom feet first. And immediately falls onto her back, unable to properly balance herself in time.

The portal above closes, and Jes sits up, looking around. Smiling due to finally benign home again, Jes then notices her arm, on which the mystic scars have reopened, though not reaching as far up her arm as they had when she opened her first portal in the past few hours. Smiling to herself, Jes swings her legs off her bed and walks to her dresser, grabbing some bandages out of it to rebandage her arm.

Looking up in the mirror, Jes sees her face still covered with the Skull Sorcerer mask. Her smile dropping, left eye turning a dull brown and the right a dull green, she processes what that mask meant to the people in Ninjago. Shaking her head, her eyes turn brighter, Jes removes teh mask and hat from her head, and goes to exit her bedroom, shouting, “Hey, Derek and Kiera, got the file chip or whatever the fuck you needed!”

To which two voices respond simultaneously, “It’s a flash drive, not a chip!”

__________________________________________

A week later, Jes is sitting on her bed scrolling through her phone, reading a news article that had come from Ninjago a few hours ago regarding the situation now known as the “Crystatrophe”.

There had been many articles released about the Crystatrophe, including Aquari ones just restating everything Ninjagan news anchors and civilians had said about the disaster. However, this articles was different than the other articles released from Ninjago, at least to Jes. The majority of news articles and videos either had to do with the whole catastrophe itself, the armies of the Ninjagan kingdoms uniting to fight the Overlord, or the Jade Princess apparently being alive. But this one, unlike the others, was about Vangelis.

Or, more accurately, “Vangelis”. Because the person interviewed for the article was one of the three who had mistaken her for Vangelis. In the article, the guy told his story of how “Vangelis” had attacked one of his friends and Crystalized him, terrifying the other two.

Jes had been reading the article for the past twenty minutes, having reread it multiple times.

Her brother, Derek, walks into her room unannounced with a laptop, going to sit on her bed and open the laptop. The two sit in silence for a few minutes, Jes still rereading the article and Derek now clicking away on his laptop. Finally, Derek decides to speak.

“So I noticed the new mystic scars you’ve been hiding for the past week.”

“Hm.”

“Hm. Yeah, well. I’m your brother. I know you. And you aren’t the type of person to hide mystic scars.” Pausing for a moment, Derek frowns and types something onto his laptop. Continuing, he says, “Unless you did something you were not supposed to. And looking at how far up your arm the new scars stretch, I’d say you probably did something you weren’t supposed to.” He then looks up from his laptop towards Jes, pushing his braids back over his shoulder, continuing, “Plus you’ve been obsessing over articles about the Crystatrophe all week. With the exception of the Great Devourer attack and the whole Wojira situation a year ago, I’ve never seen you obsess over news from Ninjago catastrophes like this before.”

Once Derek says that, Jes finally looks up at him and sighs. “It’s just, all the stuff with Vangelis and him being the Skull Sorcerer… Everyone in Ninjago thinks that the Skull Sorcerer is supposed to be a bad person because of him, some random dude who’s first time being around in the Ninjago City public views was the Crystatrophe.”

Raising an eyebrow, Derek questions, “You do realize that people hate Skull Sorcerers here too, right? Because I’m pretty sure you should. You know, being the Elemental Master of Death.”

Adjusting her position so that her body is facing more towards Derek, Jes throws her hands out to the sides, saying, “Well yeah. But that is because of all the shit Hazza D’ur did all those millennia ago! Everyone here knows about it!” Wilting a bit, left eye turning a dull brown and the right a dull orange, she carries on, “In Ninjago they don’t know all of that. For them, Vangelis is the first Skull Sorcerer they’ve ever seen. And they thought I was him.”

Staring at Jes dumbfounded, Derek says, “I’m sorry, what?”

Looking at Derek semi-confused, left eye medium blue and right bright pink, Jes says, “They thought I was Vangelis?”

Still staring at Jes, Derek suddenly exclaims, “You were in Ninjago? How the hell were you in Ninjago? Last time I checked you don’t have the sorcery skills yet to make a portal that far… wait a minute that’s why you have those mystic scars, isn’t it?”

Smiling awkwardly, eyes flashing purple and dark red, she says, “Maybe? It was an accident.” Her smile widens.

Putting his head in his hands, Derek mutters, “Dipshit! You are going to be in so much trouble if your mom finds out.” Perking up, Derek asks, “Though I am just slightly, very much just slightly curious, not dying to know at all, what was it like there? Did you meet one of those Nindroids? Please tell me you did.”

Huffing out a little laugh, Jes says, “Well it was pretty desolate, for a Ninjago catastrophe. You know all those live news videos that constantly circulate when attacks happen where people are just busy going on with their daily lives?”

“Yeah?” 

“It was nothing like that.”

“Oh.”

“And I didn’t meet any Nindroids.”

“Oh.”

Seeing Derek’s shoulders sag a bit from his excitement getting crushed, Jes then remembers one of the first things she had done when she found herself in Ninjago City. She grabs her phone from where it was laying on the bed, going into her photos app and clicking on the selfie with Borg Tower in the background, angling the phone to show the picture to Derek.

Eyes lighting up when he sees the image, Derek quickly grabs the phone from Jes’ hand and pulls the phone closer to his face, pushing his glasses up with his shoulder, exclaiming, “How did you get this?”

Puffing her chest out and wearing a smug grin, Jes says, “I took it, being a sort of phone genius, you know?”

Looking up from the photo just to glare at Jes, Derek says, “You know that isn’t what I meant. And you are no phone genius, seeing as how you had no clock on your phone homescreen for a whole month.”

Gasping dramatically in offense, jes rebuttals, “Says the person that just didn’t notice he had a welder torch on his desk when he needed to use it to build that car or whatever the fuck it was!”

Scoffing, Derek replies, “Ignoring your insult to my work, the difference is I can make fire with my hands. You just decided to leave your phone without a clock without asking anyone to fix it, somehow doing so for a, and let me say it again, whole month!”

“You do know something called the Internet exists, right? Because you can literally just look up the time there.”

Gesturing emphatically, Derek vociferates, “Yes! I do! And the clock is supposed to be on your lockscreen! You’re not supposed to have to actively look it up for your own timezone1”

Snickering, Jes says, “Yeah yeah, whatever.” She nudges at Derek’s shoulder, continuing, “Go on, get out of here. I’m sure you have important stuff to invent or whatever.”

Getting up off the bed, Derek says, “Yeah. Lots of work to do.” Walking to Jes’ door, he slightly turns and says, “If you ever have anything to talk about, you know you can talk to me, right?”

Waving him off, Jes says, “Of course. Just as you can do the same. Now get on out of here!”

Frowning, Derek leaves Jes’ bedroom.

Once Derek’s footsteps leave her hearing range, Jes turns her phone on again, staring at the article, yet not truly reading it. Shaking her head, Jes scoffs and turns it off, dramatically throwing herself back to lay down, tossing her hands to her sides. Turning her head to the right, Jes stares at the Skull Sorcerer mask laying on her dresser.

Turning her head back to stare at the ceiling, Jes mutters to herself, “Now I have two legacies that aren’t my own to deal with. Great.” Getting up, she says, “Well, may as well get some training done, or whatever.”

Walking towards her door, Jes grabs her sword off her shelf, and walks towards the room exit, taking her sword with her. Pausing at the doorway, she looks back at where her Skull Sorcerer mask is laying on her dresser. Frowning, she stares at it for a few moments, wondering if she should bring it. Shaking her head, she leaves her room, leaving the Skull Sorcerer mask on the dresser where it lay.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The main purpose of this fic was to kind of introduce the readers to my OC Jes, as well as give myself a bit more experience writing.

Now, to rant a bit about other stuff that made me want to write this fic, let’s talk about Garmadon and the Crystal Warriors. When he is fighting them, we see that Garmadon actually touches and throws the warriors around without getting Crystalized, especially towards the beginning of the Crystatrophe, where so much as touching one of the Crystal Warriors results in Crystallization. We also see this happen with Lloyd, who also doesn’t get Crystalized when he touches the crystals. (I don’t remember for sure, but I think this happened with Wu as well). 

So of course, I looked at that, and looked at how pure Oni and pure Dragon power can defeat the Warriors, and pretty much went, “Yeah, the crystals probably don’t do anything to Oni or Dragons.” And hence this fic was born.

I do also want to talk about the building scene where everyone is Crystalized and not moving, because there is a slight thing in “Roots” that we don’t know about, and it just irked me a tad bit. So when the Crystal Island does that final blast downwards, which Crystalizes the ninja, and when the camera zooms out to see the city from afar, we see more Crystals erupt. But I do want to draw your attention to Wu and everyone else during that scene. Because we see them look up when the blast comes down. But then we don’t see them, or anyone else in the City, again at all until after the Overlord is defeated and the Island and Crystals have been destroyed. But they’re still at the same building. Just like the four ninja once they recover from their Crystallization. So the ninja didn’t move. And nor did their allies. Which led me to believe that everyone, with the exception of Lloyd and Garmadon (who were on the Island) and possibly the members of the Crystal Council were Crystalized by that blast. And unlike the other times, they stopped moving, possibly due to the Overlord’s powers having had somewhat weakened at that point (Hence the fight scene with the Warriors in the previous episode).

I do want to go over mystic scarring right now, because I wasn’t properly able to in this fic. (I am planning on having this explanation in AU canon during Season 1, but I have no clue when that’ll be written, so here’s a canon explanation not currently written in a canon interaction right now).

Basically, mystic scarring is supposed to serve as a warning system for light magic users. It can easily be set off, though it usually only reaches to the palm, and mainly only does minor surface damage. But they do leave permanent scars. Almost every magic user has them, as when you are learning something such as that, you are probably going to at some point go a bit beyond your limits. Mystic scars are generally prided upon by mystic users, because it’s proof that they are able to use sorcery, and that they learned. Except, like in the case of Jes in this fic, when that user uses their power in a way they shouldn’t have, or did something really stupid. Then they’ll probably hide their scars, especially if they’re really long and obvious like Jes’ became.

There is a lot of unfamiliar stuff in here, mainly because with how this fic is set up, I cannot have a character infodumping. In this fic, Jes is either interacting with people that know about these topics, or people who wouldn’t give her the chance to talk about it, mainly due to fear responses. If Jes was interacting with a character who didn’t know about this stuff and was interested in hearing about it, she would be able to talk about it, which would give more information.

#ninjago #ns15 #ninjago crystalized #ninjago eclipse born au #eclipse born au #eclipse born au fics #toasty's fics #jesiba (oc) #oc: jesiba #derek (oc) #oc: derek #ninjago vangelis #skull sorcerer ninjago #elemental master of death ninjago #crystals and blood (ninjago is always on some shit)

[shouting-at-the-telly-though]

Also, I cannot *wait* for this [insert expletives bad enough that I'm saving your retinas] incredibly nasty piece of work of a woman to meet some appropriately nasty and/or degrading end. I don't Actually Hate on fictional characters very often, but I do despise her.

#legend of fuyao #liveblog #ranty mc'rant pants

[witchyfires]

Okay less than two months to another whole new year. Usually, in another month or so I’d stuff my face with holiday goodness and sob about another year that went past just way too quick.

But like, is this it?

Is this the year I turn it all around?

It is 1am where I live and I’m feeling the perfect felix-felicis, I-can-probably-cheat-death energy that’s telling me to get a head start on the year.

What makes this the year I’ll finally be living the life I’ve always wanted to?

Just sheer amounts of ridiculously dumb unwavering hope and a back-from-the-dead Tumblr account.

And before the absolute pant shitting fear sets in of someone I know connecting this account and heavens forbid, PERCEIVING aspects of me out of the concocted irl persona I’ve so dearly crafted? Let me be a 00s Internet girlie in full oversharing Tumblr glory welcome you to ‘my corner of the Internet’ and put down every godforsaken ranty thought that crosses my mind here as I try to follow through on my own impossible expectations (psa I’m an eldest daughter).

God I’ve missed Tumblr (now watch me spend an hour searching for a gif that appropriately connotes my current feels) (yes this is what I chose to go with and I will pretend not to feel judged by a non existent audience)

#2024 #new year #give me the unhinged side of Tumblr pls thx

[buttercupsfrocks]

Do you ever wonder what goes on in the mind of the average fatphobe, Tumblr? I do. I spend a lot of time going head to head with the blighters on Quora. Not in any hope of changing their mindset, obviously, because nothing short of a well aimed ice-pick is likely to do that. But perhaps I can change the mindset of a person like my younger self, who internalised their judgement as truth to her detriment, by showing them up for the irrational bullies they are. What can I say? It’s a hobby.

Seriously though, WTF is it these days with the endless accusations of “glamorising”, “promoting”,“normalising” – and even, on one occasion, “legitimizing” – obesity? Absolutely anything can trigger this response, from news that a high street clothing chain is slightly expanding its size range; to the use of plus-sized models to sell plus-sized clothes to plus-sized women; to featuring a fat runner making like a fat runner on the cover of Runner’s World. (Bad role model, incidentally, because fat). It’s all the Thin End of the Wedge for these pearl-clutching dipshits. And  make no mistake, they’re running scared. But from what exactly?

I used to think it was fear of having their favourite chew-toy prised out of their smack-talking jaws. For the last few decades hating on fat folk for our own good has been endemic in the west, but bit by bit, kickback is starting to inch into the mainstream. And if the majority ever starts to view us as human individuals rather than a faceless scourge, sizeism could become less acceptable, less defensible even, then before you know it, BOOM! it’s pick on someone your own size, sunshine. But while that may be a significant contributor to their unease, there are additional factors at play in these accusations of glorification and endorsement. For a kick off they’re a crock. We all know that droves of slim-to-average sized people aren’t declaring their intention to become as fat as possible, nor are fat people encouraging them to do so.

The fact is that weight neutrality and self-acceptance among fat individuals genuinely rattles our most vocal detractors, which is why they persistently misrepresent the Fat Acceptance movement and discredit Health At Every Size, despite it being a bona fide medically supported programme. It’s why, when faced with a fat person not actively engaged in trying to shrink their body their stock reaction is to yell, “glorifying obesity!” Their anxiety centres around what might happen if the belief that it’s not fat people’s bodies that need fixing but our toxic cultural climate, becomes more commonplace. Greater numbers of fat people speaking up – and, crucially, being listened to; the media our hater-base consumes perhaps taking a more liberal, weight-neutral stance in keeping with the changing times. More routine inclusion of people with fat bodies in fashion magazines; weight-blind casting for the big and small screens; fewer ‘Best And Worst Beach Body’ covers on the supermarket checkout rags. Possibly, (please God and over time), a cultural shift in the way the pursuit of optimum health is presented – no longer a moral obligation or even a universal possibility; simply a choice if that’s what floats your boat, no more or less moral than joining the local am-dram outfit, or collecting vintage snowglobes. But what would that mean for them?

It’s not just that the currency of hard won – or happenstantial – thinness is devalued if one type of body is no longer privileged over another. I’ve been around enough people with eating disorders and compulsive behaviours to recognise that the portion of society that fulminates at total strangers for opting out of a lifestyle they feel compelled to adhere to, is rife with both. Certainly many describe lives of extreme deprivation and Herculean self control. However liberating oneself from diet culture also takes tremendous strength of will and I suspect for all their censorious gum-flapping deep down they know that, and fear they mightn’t have the courage to free themselves from what seems to me an utterly joyless existence.

Just some thoughts currently swirling around in my head.

By the way, isn’t this a delightfully loud frock? It’s bamboo and soooo soft, and doesn’t appear to pill or fade or shrink or any other nasties. It’s the heaviest of the Taking Shape dresses I bought this year, and good for chillier days like today, with the addition of tights. It’s also capacious enough to layer beneath, so versatile as well as colourful.

#OOTD #fatshion #plus size style #Taking Shape #bold and bright #Sizeism #Fatphobia #glorifying obesity #got my ranty-pants on

[rob-nobody]

To Serve Man

TITLE: To Serve Man AUTHOR: Unknown Kanamit gourmand ORIGIN: "To Serve Man" (short story written by Damon Knight, 1950) EDITION: The Twilight Zone (television show, episode 3x24, "To Serve Man," 1962) Submitted for your approval: a book, left by the Kanamit delegation recently arrived on Earth promising to solve all of humanity's problems. Tasked with translating it, the US government's cryptographers are only able to crack the title: "To Serve Man." They discover — too late for the many humans who had already been transported to promised paradise on the Kanamit homeworld — that the book is indeed about serving man... on a platter. Humanity is about to get its just deserts, as dessert; a recipe for disaster, home-cooked in a kitchen called... the Twilight Zone. I. Reference — Cookbooks — Human resources II. Plans and strategies — Alien invasions — Motivations III. Plot twists — Misunderstandings — Wordplay trouble

Happy Thanksgiving, library patrons! In honor of the holiday, here's arguably the most famous fictional cookbook in pop culture. And now a rant! So, while making this I rewatched the episode, one of the show's most famous, and it occurred to me how completely nonsensical this twist is. I mean, I'll buy the aliens crossing the galaxy in an elaborate plan to snack on some humans — that's just basic Twilight Zone suspension of disbelief — but what was up with the cookbook? Why did the Kanamits bring it to the UN for their big speech? Why was it so purposefully left behind? How could the cryptographers get the entire title but nothing else, or really any of it at all? A different language is not like a substitution cipher, where you just figure out what letters were replaced with what symbols! That's not how language works! Was this all done on purpose just to taunt us? The original story the episode was based on actually makes much more sense: it simply has a character steal one of their books (here titled "How to Serve Man") and use an alien-to-English dictionary from his job at one of the alien embassies to translate it.

Screenshot:

Screenshot with a Kanamit:

#fictional books #twilight zone #rod serling #richard kiel #because all the kids love richard kiel #from tv #from short stories #science fiction #anthology tv #classic tv #cookbooks #let me get my ranty pants on

[thewhizzyhead]

it just occured to me that most of the people I know from my batch are gonna turn 18 this year so um in the rare chance that a miracle basically fucking happens and the covid situation in the ph has calmed down to the point that it's actually SAFE AND NOT DUMB to hold debut parties in year of our Lord 2021, tHEN HOLY FUCK SOMEONE GET ME A SUIT CAUSE I AM *SO* NOT GONNA GO TO FANCY BUFFETS IN NON-PRACTICAL WEAR SO GOD PLEASE GIVE ME A SUIT-

#i think dresses can be nice but I FEEL MORE CONFIDENT AND SECURE IN PANTS WHEN OUT IN PUBLIC OKAY #PLUS SUITS MAKE ME LOOK GOOD #SUITS CAN LOOK ANYONE LOOK GOOD #CATRA FOR EXAMPLE #I WANT THAT SUIT #I WANT A DARK COLORED SUIT #SURE I'LL AGREE TO WEARING A SHIT TON OF MAKE UP AND HEELS IN ORDER TO LOOK 'FEMININE ENOUGH' JUST AS LONG AS I GET A SUIT PLEASE #OR IF SUITS ARENT AVAILABLE THEN UM VERY VERY DARK LONG SLEEVED BUTTON UPS WITH BLACK SLACKS #HELL ADD SOME STILETTOS AND SMOKY EYESHADOW AND DARK RED-MAROONISH LIPSTICK AND SOME SILVER JEWELRY TO FULFILL THE #umm 'feminine looking' requirement fnxndn because otherwise the filipino titas will brand you as a 'tomboy' in a very derogatory way #and i wanna go to debuts for fancy food and not for curses upon my bloodline so all in all i am willing to do anything at all #just dont make me wear a fucking dress to a fucking debut #you might be wondering: izzy given your vendetta against wearing dresses to fancy events #how the hell did you survive prom and school dances #well my dudes wE DONT HAVE THOSE (those got cancelled) AND WE NEVER WILL THANKS TO COVID SO WELP #anyways drowsy and ranty ramble over #personal shit #*suits can make anyone look good