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otnesse · 14 days

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Quoting @likeawinterbird since I can't even access his post, nor can I directly reblog in respnse

It’s Pokemon Best Wishes! It aired back in 2010, until 2013, and it’s the fandom’s whipping boy, because the league was lackluster, the character touted as main rival was weirdly disinterested*, and it was the first time the show sort of rebooted, to make it a good introduction to the basics for the younger generations, so Satoshi/Ash made some rookie mistakes in over-excitement at first and Pikachu was temporarily depowered in the earliest part [prompting bad first impressions and skewing the score between him and not-quite-main rival]. *(So completely one-sided for the first half, despite him being a rookie/new trainer, because Shootie/Trip’s some kind of child prodigy, and his own story is focused on someone else entirely.) Satoshi/Ash also had many other rivals (including one who better fulfilled the expected role of main rival, Kenyan/Stephan, and even had a great battle in the league!), and each of his friends got their own rivals and storylines too, but yeah, fandom whines and cherrypicks things to complain about eternally and never shut up about it. It’s not just seen as an “acceptable target,” it’s seen as undeniable fact, that it’s terrible. Many people write it off without watching it or after the first episode or two or fail to understand Pikachu’s Electric Type attacks were sealed and it was suffering from exposure to Zekrom, even though it’s stated several times in series, by different characters. Sheesh, I hated XY, but at least I gave it many, many episodes a chance! Its fanboys would jump down my throat, the anon hate was intense, people were lauding it from the first preview alone as an “apology for Best Wishes!” Iris, the main girl of the BW! series, remains to this day the only one to never get a collector’s figure or even any full-sized figure, toy or fancy collector’s item, and also the first to ever break the tradition of reappearing in the next series and meeting the new girl. She has pretty much no merch, just a recent chibi keychain as part of a set commemorating all the main girls, who also got several full figures… (hence why I made that figures post). To add extra insult to injury, she was also the first dark-skinned main girl. Ouch. sazandorable i’ll admit my brain just blanked on “are people seriously complaining about CLOUDS in bw! now.”. like, it’s op’s right, it’s true they used to be super pretty earlier, i guess that really sucks if they’re a big fan of sceneries. but REALLY? you gonna hate on bw for the CLOUDS? REALLY? FOR REAL. It’s honestly ugly, yeah, BW! has beautiful scenery, but rather than focus on that, it was just “yeah, but you see this specific part of the scenery? Ugly” and focused the post on that and told me it “doesn’t change a thing” that DP started it. :| /blocks

Honestly, the Trip bit was definitely one of the worst bits about Best Wishes. And I really didn't like how Pikachu was pillored like that all in a crass attempt at starting fresh even by their usual standards (even without Pikachu's electric attacks, he still had Iron Tail, so it's not like he COULDN'T use that instead to beat his foes, including that Snivy. That's my BIGGEST complaint, that they didn't have Pikachu just resort to other strategies DESPITE clearly having them.). Though I will state he was STILL a better rival overall than Paul was, that loss notwithstanding.

As far as the reasons for changing up Ash are concerned, I'm sorry, but if you're going to reboot the series, go the full mile and cut ASH out of the series and replace him with a new character. Don't degrade his character like that (The mistakes he made in that series were the kinds that even Kanto-era Ash, aka the time he actually was a rookie, would NEVER make. Case in point, somehow mistaking a human, Iris, for an Axew despite looking absolutely NOTHING alike. Probably the closest he ever got to making that kind of mistake was in the beginning of the Kangaskhan Kid, and even that was excused by the fact that Jenny disguised herself as a Chancey to catch poachers, and she was hiding in a bush.). And the league results for that one were inexcusable. Nor was the decision to not even have Ash partake in a side league [you know, something like Orange League or Battle Frontier] to compensate. And from what someone like Lizardo on Pokecommunity stated, the Gym Leaders overall were basically treated the same way as in AG (ie, not good at all), which actually comes across as even worse with the downgrade Ash got overall.

I also didn't really like Dawn's cameo especially when, last I checked, Unova DIDN'T have contests at all, so she had zero reason to even BE in Unova. I wasn't fond of May even reappearing at all in DP, but at least there was actual setup justifying her presence there regarding that Wallace Cup being trans-regional. Ash doesn't drop everything he's doing just to visit his friends while in the middle of a league, so why should they? And personally, I felt the show definitely should have done a true adaptation of that World Conference thing from B2W2, not just as a neat way for most of Ash's traveling companions to reappear due to either being Gym Leaders themselves or in the case of May and Max actually related to one, but also as a way to give true closure to Misty, but they didn't and just had a half-baked Junior Cup instead (to be fair regarding that bit, though, part of the reason was because Game Freak failed to let the anime producers in the loop regarding there being actual sequels to Black and White rather than a third version, so I could sort of see why they wouldn't go in that route, but I still think they should have ultimately).

That all being said, there were definite positives to the series:

For what it's worth, of all the things I have a problem with regarding Best Wishes, Iris actually was one of its positives ultimately, mostly because she came the closest to actually BEING a true successor to Misty. I did initially think her getting a Dragonite early on was a bit much, but after recent research into her backstory, I've changed my tune on that one due to realizing she's basically been battling since BEFORE she formally became a trainer (certainly far better than the OTHER time someone got an extremely rare Pokemon for no real reason [*cough**cough*Dawn's Togekiss*cough**cough*]). I also like that they learned from what happened with Misty earlier and made SURE she actually DID continue her goal, and even indicated she had no intention of becoming a Gym Leader until AFTER she became a Dragon Master. I mean, yeah, sure, her "Just a Kid" comments were a bit much, but on the other hand, considering Ash being badly mangled overall, I can sort-of tolerate it since she ultimately had a point there.

I also liked the fact that there were indeed some continuity nods there, like Clair reappearing, or how Ash reminisced about his Butterfree when raising a similar caterpie. I also liked that he did get his Charizard back ultimately. That was definitely a major positive for that series, especially after Ash's mishandling regarding character.

And while not a full positive (the manner in which they went with Team Rocket just left a lot to be desired), I will nevertheless give credit where it's due and state they at least TRIED to make them actual credible threats after being made bad enough jokes that even Takeshi Shudo regretted his vote to keep them on for AG (just wish it was more them taking down a Pokemon OTHER than Ash's Pikachu, though. Just having them beat one of Ash's rookies would have MORE than sufficed especially when a large part of their joke status was the result of them losing to Caterpie way back in the third episode).

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mirandamckenni1 · 11 months

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Liked on YouTube: AI art is bad for everyone, not just artists - here's why || https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g4H8NuoYHsE || Don't support media that uses AI when it could use a human instead. Otherwise, we run the risk of cannibalizing all of popular culture to make a quick buck, which is very bad in the long term, and will make everything worse for everyone for a long time. Let's try to not to do that. I don't normally like to take controversial public opinions, and I don't make video essays (so don't subscribe to this channel, seriously!!) but I believe this is very important. To add a bit of nuance to the video's thesis: I think it's probably fine to engage with content that uses AI tools for humor. I think the videos by Dougdoug, Snapcube, etc. that use AI are quite entertaining, for instance. But in that case the AI is not replacing work a human would've done, since using AI is the point of the joke, and they're doing something genuinely fresh and new. With stuff like AI art in animation, video games, movies, etc., it's not the same, and we shouldn't support it. In response to "but doesn't this just mean it'll put artists with already-derivative styles out of work?" That may be true, but remember a lot of art isn't made by single people -- there are a lot of industries that take a lot of people to produce a work, like animation, video games, etc. Obviously there will still be people who make video games and such -- we're not going to replace *everyone* with an AI -- but I'm not sure it's wise to cut out the lower-level jobs in these industries (npc lines, etc) in favor of AI, especially since that's where a lot of people get their start. A lot of people might never have the chance to become artists with interesting styles in the first place if they can't get a job doing it or if they're just employed to touch up AI output and aren't practicing their actual craft. So, boycott AI content! #ai #aiart Articles mentioned in video: Greg Rutkowski being used as a common AI art prompt: https://ift.tt/xbBJRf9 OpenAI using underpaid Kenyan workers to filter content: https://ift.tt/WHt3XxO Ubisoft using AI to write (some) NPC lines: https://ift.tt/gYAWUwI "to paraphrase a different video..." refers to this video: https://youtu.be/GOwxXj1EIXM (I don't know how to do the little info popup...) Public domain sound effects used from freesound.org: https://ift.tt/Ho6LIPz https://ift.tt/sFoXymh

#IFTTT #YouTube

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cvwritingserviceskenya · 11 months

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ritusmiles · 1 year

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#SoCS May.06, 2023 - Songs Of Our Youth

Linda’s SoCS prompt… Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “a song from your childhood.” Think of a song from your childhood and just write. Have fun! Oh, there are so many songs from my childhood, ranging from Western to Bhangra, Kenyan to Bollywood, that I could pick… Which one?, is the question! I’m choosing Pass the Dutchie by Musical Youth. When this song came out,…

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#Blog #Blog Post #Blogger #Blogging #Socs #Song

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astraeagreengrass · 4 years

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Right Where You Are, That’s Where I Am

Sometimes, finding yourself means finding someone

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1.904

Warnings: Angst, allusions to violence and PTSD, fluffy ending

A/N: This is my submission to @wkemeup’s 4K Writing Challenge. My prompt was “Mariner’s Apartment Complex” by Lana del Rey. Thank you Kas for having me and congratulations on such an impressive milestone! ♡

Disclaimer: I don’t own Bucky Barnes or any other fictional characters mentioned in this story - they are property of Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. The title belongs to Lana Del Rey. The plot is my own creation.

You lose your way, just take my hand You're lost at sea, then I'll command your boat to me again

The plane left you in the border of Burundi.

From the muddy, narrow airstrip to the meeting point it took you four hours in a 1977 Jeep CJ-7. The air-conditioner was broken, forcing you to roll down the windows hoping for some breeze, but no such luck. Your hair was stuck to your nape and your skin collected mosquito bites as you drove through the heart of Africa, trailing the Mwiruzi river, guided only by an old printed map and a vibranium compass.

You reached the village at nightfall. Less than twenty houses formed a semi-circle around a tiny square, a well right in the middle of it. It was similar to hundreds of other villages you passed through on your way, but a rune drawn in white paint on the door of the house closest to the road gave it away as the right one.

You parked the Jeep beneath a Tamboti tree, tucking the keys under the passenger’s side seat cushion. Taking your backpack and a black duffel bag, you exited.

Nakia was waiting for you at the porch of the seventh house, a fussing baby in her arms. She was trying to soothe him with a lullaby sung in xhosa, her melodious voice the only sound apart from the crickets, but the child was insistent. Realizing she wouldn’t acknowledge you until the child was calm, you sat in the rickety wooden porch step, tucking your head between your knees. You hadn’t slept in over two days and finally finding Nakia gave you some unexpected relief that allowed the exhaustion to creep in.

“We’re leaving in the morning” she announced a few minutes later, when the baby surrendered to sleep. “You can rest until then.”

You wouldn’t, but it was nice of her to offer.

“It’s safe here” she added and you just nodded. That wasn’t enough guarantee to let your guard down.

Nakia sighed, only minor frustrated. Your behaviour annoyed her, but she knew she couldn’t demand much from you, even if you did look dead on your feet.

“Come on” she said, mentioning with her head for you to follow her inside. The house consisted of a single room, a kitchen, and two long, pic-nic style tables. It was relatively full, which immediately startled you, but your deft gaze was quick to assess that these people were more suspicious of you than you were of them.

There were no adult men, only women and children. The oldest boy appeared to be around twelve, and was carefully tucked to his mother’s side. There were other babies like the one Nakia extended to a girl sitting by the door, before exclaiming in igbo:

“Ayo! The milk is here!”

Ayo was a middle-aged woman mixing food by the stove. She nodded, but made no move to step away from her careful cooking.

“Are you hungry?”

You were, but it didn’t look like you were welcome. Regardless, Nakia mentioned you forward. Taking the black duffel bag from your hands, your host started taking out the cans of milk formula you bought in Johannesburg.

The request seemed odd to you at first: why did Nakia, the Kenyan heiress turned Wakandan spy, needed dozens of cans of milk formula somewhere in Tanzania? It looked as though this room was the answer.

Ayo wordessly placed a bowl of githeri in front of you. It was delicious and you didn’t hesitate when she offered you seconds. While you ate, Nakia and the cook stacked the cans in neat piles on the cabinet under the sink. You were still eating when they finished.

"We'll take your car to Mukigina" Nakia stated. "Someone will get us there."

"When?"

"In sixteen hours."

"How long from here to Mukigina?"

"A little over seven hours if we go off the road."

You shrugged. You've been going off the road for a while now.

"Can I ask you something?" she leaned closer to you. Nakia could easily be mistaken by one of your sisters, with her flawless features and deadly skills. But the gleam in her eyes, still present after all the terrible things she's seen during her undercover work as a War Dog, set her apart from the daughters of the Red Room. She wasn't broken, battered and bruised on the inside like you were. And all the horrors she'd witnessed weren't caused by her. "How did you know he was in Wakanda?"

You met Nakia at an underground casino in Busan right after the fall of Hydra. She was following a lead on a poacher of and you were following a lead on him. When the poacher turned out to be more vicious than she expected, it was your bullet in his head that solved the problem. You never met again - until two weeks ago, when you saw her standing next to the Wakandan king at the United Nations.

"My sister was with your king in the summer" you explained. "In Germany."

"Oh" her eyebrows rose so high they disappeared under her headscarf. "Romanoff?"

"Yeah."

"That explains how you know him."

You snorted.

"How did you think I knew him?"

"I don't know..." she trailed off. "Honestly, for the past two years I've thought about you constantly. You saved my life and I couldn't even say a proper thank you before you disappeared. I thought maybe you were an Avenger, but you're too squirmish for that. And none of them wear black, do they? They love their bright colors."

You laughed, the first real one in a long time.

Nakia patted you on the shoulder gently.

"I meant what I said earlier. You should get some sleep."

"Sleep isn't really my thing" you muttered.

"Every single girl in this village was rescued from the Boko Haram. We secured this location a couple of months ago because these men, these terrorists… They don't care about the women they steal, but they do care about their children. Especially if they're boys. So don't be ashamed of your nightmares, 'cause we're used to them around here."

You scanned the room. Most of the girls had left, but there were still three huddling by the stove, listening carefully to Ayo's instructions. They didn't look a day older than sixteen. At sixteen, you'd already killed more men than you could count with both hands. You wondered if they'd kill their kidnappers if given the chance.

Nakia's room was in the house next door. Moonlight filtered in through the curtainless window, bathing the small chamber in silver glow. You were asleep before your head hit the pillow.

In less than a day, you'd gone from old cars and dirty roads to spaceships and hover carriers.

Birnin Zana - The Golden City - rose miraculously under the savanna sun. Skyscrapers as high was the eye could see, a protective dome and cutting-edge technology - all of it coexisting in perfect harmony with nature and ancient traditions.

Nakia placed you in a hut in the outskirts of the city - close enough that you could visit Princess Shuri’s laboratory everyday but far enough that the locals wouldn’t be bothered by a foreigner’s presence.

The first week was torture. Blurry recollections of your past haunted your dreams, leaving you gasping for air, staring out the window until the first light appeared behind the trees. From dawn to dusk you'd stay at the lab, guarding his frozen body like a ghost.

It finally got on Shuri’s nerve.

“That’s it. I'm kicking you out."

She sent you to the Dora Milaje. Their leader, Okoye - tall, gorgeous and intimidating - was apparently looking forward to meet you. On a grassy field overlooking the river she handed you a wooden stick.

"Let's set how you fight without a gun" she said with a smirk.

It was disastrous. Okoye and the other warriors were graceful, silent and fast like cheetahs, meanwhile you were a hippo in heels, scrambling with the wooden stick. Madame B's voice taunted you, like the devil on your shoulder, seething everytime they bested you. On the fourth day of training your demons finally caught up to you and you broke down.

Okoye held you, whispering in soft Yoruba that you were safe.

A month later you braved the market. Manioc, okra and tomatoes in a booth, turmeric, cardamom and nutmeg in the other. The smell was intoxicating, swirling in your brain in gormandize like never before. You left chewing on a ripe piece of watermelon, pink juice staining your lips, with a pot of African violets cradled in your arms.

The violets were placed in your kitchen table - two seats, one for you and one for him when he came. Soon afterwards they were joined by a banana bunch, plucked from the tree in your yard.

The discovery of the banana tree made way for lettuce, eggplant and pumpkin. The seeds were gifted to you by Queen Ramonda herself and they took to the soil like sand to sea. When you noticed the first green leaf sprouting from the earth, you wept. Your hands, once made for killing, were now giving life.

The food welcomed the children. They'd play in your yard, sidestepping the flower beds like a dance. When they grew tired, they barged in, all five or six of them demanding lemonade and strawberries and questions.

"What does snow feels like?"

"Do you miss Russia?"

"Is it true the Americans think Africa is a country?"

Like ground ice. No. Some of them do, yes.

It was late December when Shuri gave you the news.

"We're ready to wake him up."

They placed his sleeping body on the bed, saying that he should rise by himself in a few hours. Suddenly, you were fourteen again, waiting behind bulletproof doors in a secret facility in Siberia, waiting to meet him for the first time. Only he wasn't the Asset or Soldat anymore. He had a name, a history, a mind of his own.

You'd killed for him. Tortured innocents. Thwarted governments. Broke a thousand rules just to be closer to your forbidden lover. Schemed and lied looking for his freedom, uselessly. Lost yourself trying to find him.

"Come with me" Natalia pleaded. "That spy I was supposed to kill in Budapest… He spared me. Said he can take us both to America. S.H.I.E.L.D. will offer us protection."

"I can't" you refused. "I can't leave him."

"You'll die before you save him."

Your sister was wrong: you survived. And now, halfway across the world, fate gifted you with another chance.

The children woke him. They scurried out of the house, laughing and chanting. Emhlope ingcuka, they called him. White wolf.

James Buchanan Barnes found you gazing at the horizon beyond the lake. Slowly, testing his legs, he walked over to your side.

"Good morning" you smiled.

"Good morning."

"How are you feeling?" you asked.

"Good."

You turned then, eyes catching his in the warm daybreak. A breeze ruffled his hair and your skirt, a gentle reminder that it was real. You were real.

"James?" you tried, hesitantly.

"Bucky" he declared in triumph.

"Bucky" you liked it. It suited him. "It's nice to meet you, Bucky. I'm sorry it took so long."

His right hand squeezed yours. Callus and scars met callus and scars. Your rough edges molded into his in a perfect fit, in this new land that took you in as its own.

You were home.

My masterlist

Everything taglist: @scentedsongrebel @youclickedthislink @thegetawaywriter

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes #corneliabarnes #my wrting

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jewels2876 · 5 years

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Playing with Fire - Part Two

A/N: I did it! For those that asked I did a part two - I also worked it in with my @star-spangled-bingo card and the lovely @shield-agent78‘s writing challenge!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OC Aria Pierce Square filled: Wounded in Battle Photo Prompt from @shield-agent78

Word Count: 1431 Warnings: some violence – French language used

Part One

*Present*

“Aria, let’s settle this,” Steve’s anger was apparent. Aria gave him a smirk, and then leveled her gun at him.

“Avec plaisir.”

“On va voir.”

*Two Months Ago*

Aria had been giving Steve a good cat-and-mouse game. She would pop up in the most random of places and try to goad Steve into a fight, teasing him with ideas of Bucky’s whereabouts. Steve always had Sam at his back, trying to keep him levelheaded and focused on the real task. Sam silently analyzed Aria’s attempts, knowing how much she was getting to Cap and hoping he could glean any information to help his new best friend.

“Steve, Bucky’s been such a pet,” Aria gloated last time. “He’s been so well trained by HYDRA; the kills just get easier and easier.”

Steve held his jaw tight, the tick evident. Sam threw Aria a withering glare. “We WILL find him.”

Her delicate laugh belied the cold heart beneath. “Mr. Wilson, you seem to have such high hopes! I really, REALLY want to see both of your faces when he hunts you down. Sooner than later, I believe.” She gave a mock salute then turned on her heel and ran.

Steve released his jaw to yell in frustration; the nearby wall had a fist-sized hole as the drywall fell in flakes. “How does she…?”

“Don’t worry about her Steve,” Sam calmly laid a hand on Steve’s left shoulder. “Let’s just worry about tracking Bucky. Based on my last coordinates and the lack of intel at the moment, we can go back to Romania and start from there. Or…”

“No,” Steve whispered. He hunched his shoulders. “I can’t do this right now Sam. I can’t...” Steve shook his head, willing the hope to come back, wishing this hunt would be over.

Just when Steve was ready to give up hope, noise of the Winter Soldier at the Kenyan border put both Steve and Sam on high alert. “Do we have anyone in the area?” Steve spoke low into his phone.

“Not that I know of,” Natasha replied. “There’s not much of anything there on my map, so why is Barnes interested?” Steve looked down at the map Sam shoved into his view. It seemed like nothing but dense jungle forest. “Ya got me, Nat.”

“I’ll text you if I hear anything more,” Nat hung up. Sam looked at Steve. “Africa it is.”

“Could he have picked some place with MORE heat?” Sam mumbled. The new gear Nat had sent did little to cool him off; the red metal goggles matched his wings and retained the rising temperatures making them uncomfortable. Steve kept his eyes moving as he drove the Jeep along the outskirts of the jungle ahead. “Cap, I don’t see anything but trees from up here. I’m coming down.”

Sam glided down next to the Jeep before coming to a full stop. Steve idled, waiting for Sam to slide into the passenger seat. The guys exchanged glances. “Are we going in?” Sam asked. Steve looked towards the trees, pondering their choices. Yelling drew both men’s attention further down the tree line. A glint shown and Steve’s heart leapt in his chest. Hope surged as the glint became stronger and the silver arm with the red star emerged, dark hair and camo following in its wake.

Gunfire erupted from Bucky’s CZ Vz. 61 E Skorpion as he aimed haphazardly into the trees. He stilled before turning to face Steve and Sam. Sam had his Steyr SPP raised, pointed directly at Bucky’s head. Steve kept his hands clear and raised as he spoke, sliding out of the Jeep. “Bucky, it’s me. Steve.”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” he sneered. He directed his weapon at Sam. “Not that I care.”

“Bucky, don’t do this. Come with us; we can fix this.”

“Stop!” Bucky’s eyes went wild and he took a step forward. The black paint around his eyes hid the grey-blue Steve remembered. Steve halted, a frown etching his face. “Bucky,” he whispered low, tears forming against his will. Bucky took another step, keeping his weapon raised. Then without warning turned and ran back into the jungle.

Sam had done everything he could think of to keep Steve from throwing himself headlong after Bucky. “Steve come on, we can’t help him if we don’t know where we’re going.” Steve eyed the jungle’s edge one last time before turning to Sam. “Steve, come on. We need to regroup, plan a new strategy. We can get him back.” Sam half-dragged Steve back into the Jeep and drove off. He pulled out his phone as the terrain smoothed out in front of them. “Nat, we need a place to crash. What ‘cha got on hand?”

The coastal waters of Greece were cool but enticing. Sam dipped a toe into the gentle waves and sighed. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know how Nat found this hideaway in the middle of Santorini but he wanted to thank them.

Steve sat in the wooden chaise staring into the sun. Smothered from head to toe in sunscreen, he looked like any other tourist. If any other tourist there looked like they had lost their best friend, still haunted by the memories of what used to be. Sam took a seat in the sand. “Steve, just a few more days. We can do this.”

“Oh dear, I do hope you don’t mean this pathetic hunt,” a low sultry voice teased. Her skin was golden tan, her hair highlighted by the sun, as she dropped her gaze over her black sunglasses. “I’ve spent a good part of my vacation making sure Bucky was sent back to the States to take care of,” she glanced at the phone in her hands, “Natasha is it?”

Steve didn’t move, didn’t flinch. His gaze stayed locked on the horizon. Natasha can hold her own, he knew; he witnessed it back in DC. Don’t let Aria get to me, he repeated in his head.

Sam rolled his eyes at the blonde in front of him. “What it is it with you Pierces? Honestly, I’m starting to think you’re all talk. You show up, you talk a good game, and then you run off. Not very threatening in my book.”

Aria rolled her eyes and put her hands behind her back, before unleashing her favorite Glock 19. Pointing right at Steve’s head, she turns to Sam. “Mr. Wilson, I kindly ask that you not speak ill of my family. All families can be…,” she thought a moment, “They can have their differences. You are not to speak badly about them. That’s my job.” Sam sat still. Aria heaved a dramatic sigh and put the gun back where it came from. “Look, just give me a moment and I’ll be out of your hair. I need to get in touch with my assassin anyway.” She nodded curtly at the two and sauntered off.

Sam and Steve both watched her walk away. “If she wasn’t such a crazy bitch, she’d be hot,” Sam joked. “Strike that, she’d be hotter.”

A day later, Nat checked in. “Bucky was definitely here; tried to get into Stark Industries but no one knows why. Gave Tony a chance to test run his nanotech and Veronica but Bucky left as quickly as he came. Any word on your end?”

Steve answered, “Ran into Aria, or rather she ran into us. Made a big deal about Bucky ‘taking care’ of you. So no idea what Bucky was after?”

“Not yet, but Stark’s still taking inventory. With the stuff he has laying around, hard to say that anything’s missing at this point.” Nat hung up.

*Present*

A gunshot rang out; Steve miscalculated the aim and winced as it dug into his shoulder. Sam took a defensive stance in front of Steve. “Sorry, Cap. Shouldn’t have happened on my watch.” Steve grimaced as he raised his shield to cover the newest flurry of gunfire. Sam shot back and Aria’s men groaned as they slowly went down one by one. Steve heard a set of feet running behind him; he shifted the shield to his other arm preparing to throw it at the newest threat.

Steve blinked as he stared at Bucky. The guns strapped to his body were missing; he no longer had the dark eye mask nor the black garb he had worn while employed by Aria and HYDRA. The dark blue ball cap hung low on his brow; the red Henley strained over his bulging chest and arms. He wore… jeans and sneakers. “Steve?”

I would love any feedback/reblogs/love in general

Tag list: @lokiandbuckyaremine @patzammit @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @thenormreedus @courtmr @ticklikeabomb @octo-cow52 @xxloki81xx @woodworthti666 @greenarrowhead @lovely-dreamer19 @moonbeambucky @yafriendlyfangirl @lilyrosebae @after-avenging-hours @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @marvelc00kie35 @thejemersoninferno @lionheo04 @dewy-biitch @bitsandbobsandstuff @readitandweepfics @lokilvrr @lostinthoughtsandfeelings-blog @theimpossibleg1rl @princess-evans-addict @stuckyfox @4theluvofall @loricameback @moondancewrites @halcyonrogers @writing-for-a-chance @ruckystarnes @angryschnauzerwrites @221bshrlocked @suz-123 @senoritastucky @devilbat @jpat82 @caramell0w @spookyscaryskeletonsus @theoneanna @lilybellsworld @inlovewith3 @mrs-captain-evans @crazybutconfidentaf @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @sillyboyscomicsareforgirls@mackevanstanfan80

#starspangledbingo #steve rogers #steve rogers x oc #sam wilson #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel #bucky barnes

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dimplesdotcom · 1 year

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Lost and Found - Daily Writing Prompts

Lost and Found – Daily Writing Prompts

Throughout history, people have been losing personal items and finding others, both with a varied mix of emotions. The lost and found section has been piling up ever since. Lost and Found Day was invented in order to acknowledge the impact that losing and finding our possessions has on our lives. (more…)

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#lostfoundday #elimwalimu #kenyan writing prompts #kenyanblogger #kenyanwriter #lostandfound #wordpress #wordpressblogger

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mariacallous · 1 year

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In literary and cultural studies, “tradition” is a word everyone uses but few address critically. In Reading Old Books, Peter Mack offers a wide-ranging exploration of the creative power of literary tradition, from the middle ages to the twenty-first century, revealing in new ways how it helps writers and readers make new works and meanings.

Reading Old Books argues that the best way to understand tradition is by examining the moments when a writer takes up an old text and writes something new out of a dialogue with that text and the promptings of the present situation. The book examines Petrarch as a user, instigator, and victim of tradition. It shows how Chaucer became the first great English writer by translating and adapting a minor poem by Boccaccio. It investigates how Ariosto, Tasso, and Spenser made new epic meanings by playing with assumptions, episodes, and phrases translated from their predecessors. It analyzes how the Victorian novelist Elizabeth Gaskell drew on tradition to address the new problem of urban deprivation in Mary Barton. And, finally, it looks at how the Kenyan writer Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, in his 2004 novel Wizard of the Crow, reflects on biblical, English literary, and African traditions.

Drawing on key theorists, critics, historians, and sociologists, and stressing the international character of literary tradition, Reading Old Books illuminates the not entirely free choices readers and writers make to create meaning in collaboration and competition with their models.

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blogcxnflictingethnic-blog · 5 years

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The Beginning of My Story

Hello and welcome, this is the first of many blogs, posts and content that will be published on different mediums and hopefully it will be insightful and applicable too many. The reason I am spending time writing blogs and creating content is because I have learned that one of my goals in life is to raise awareness about the difficulties of being raised in conflicting environments as well as the impact that can have on that individuals mental health. The other reason is that I love coaching, teaching, mentoring individuals and enabling them to maximize their worth. What I have recently learned is that being different and unique is more than okay, it can actually have numerous benefits to an individuals growth and adaptability in different situations.

Before I can continue, you may be asking yourself what prompted a person to take on a task that can’t be technically “completed” or have a monetary value associated with it. Trust me if you know me, you know this isn’t a typical endeavour I would participate in or take up, but after reading the book “Grit” I have begun to realize that I wasn’t just put into my situation to do what I am best at, but rather what I enjoy, and what I enjoy is learning and spreading awareness. Also, I have recently returned from vacation and have a better understanding towards the lack of awareness of growing up in two different environments, two different, families, two different cities, two different ethnicities etc. and the impact it can potentially have on an individual. Honestly what triggered this is the final dinner I had with my family and friends on vacation, and (arguably one of the smartest men I know) asked me a unique question during the topic of racism, “I know externally people deem you as Black or African American however which do you identify with more?” This question made me think hard for a bit and then I realized there is no singular answer for this question. If I don’t grow and evolve and my perspective of life doesn’t change along my own personal journey then am I truly living or am I just on auto-pilot?

Some of you may be wondering how I answered this or why this triggered me. Before I provide you with that let me provide you with a high level summary of who I am and you will then realize why this question stumped me.

My name and who I am at this time is irrelevant due to many different reasons. However I can tell you in due time I will give you a face and a name to associate with these stories and content. Why will I not give you an identity? Well it is quite simple, if you don’t know me you probably think I am not revealing myself because I don’t want my story to be associated with me or that I do not want to be perceived as weak. But realistically it is the complete opposite, the people who truly know me know my story and know that I am thinking of the bigger picture.

This question can be answered in two parts; first I don’t want the issues that I will discuss be associated with a single entity, my story can be altered and mirrored in another individuals life and I want to incorporate their stories throughout this story telling journey. Second I don’t want people to think I am doing this for recognition or to attract followers etc. I want people to know that there are others out there who are going through the a similar struggle and may feel lost or directionless, and I want to provide them with a medium to relate to. However as this adventure continues and I feel at the time it is appropriate for others to know who I am, it will be shown at this time.

As I mentioned, my name is irrelevant however my story is not. The reason being is that my story and life has been very unique and needs to be told. As I mature and grow I have begun to realize how applicable my life story can be in parts of other individuals lives and that I was born for a greater purpose. The amount of puzzle pieces that had to come together, and events that had to happen for me to be here today is mind-blowing and as I go each piece will be revealed (purposefully and accidentally) but for a starting point I am a 25 year old male who has a university degree and graduated with honours, has worked in sales since I was 17, I have three siblings, I live with a Kenyan roommate, I have no debt and I have a wonderful girlfriend (who will most likely help me with this). This seems typical for any 25 year-old and you may be asking yourself at this point, “this kid has had no fucking struggle, why all the buildup and who does he think he is to discuss these point.” Well let’s put it this way, if you were on my instagram this is most likely the conclusion you would have come to. But underlying all of this is a struggle with mental health, physical health, and to be blunt a pretty confusing upbringing. First and foremost I was an accident child, created because of a malfunctioning condom that ripped. My mum is the palest of whites and ginger, whereas my dads nickname is “darkness.” My sibling relationships are also just as confusing as my biological makeup, both of my sisters are half-white and half-black (my dad likes the whites) and we are all a year a part. The youngest is 24, I am 25 and the oldest is 26, we all also have different mums and different upbringings and we met my younger sister by accident (I will expand in a different blog). My little brother, the light of my eye, is 15 and we have the same mum but different dads. He is white and ginger and looks apart of the family, whereas I half-black, am tall, tattooed and do my own thing. Everyone knows I would take a bullet for my brother, but you must acknowledge that this would be all very confusing for a young child who does not know which race he identifies with.

*This will all be discussed in a lot more depth throughout these posts*

By the age of 14 I was drinking, fucking, smoking, partying and my athletic journey was coming to an end. My life was a contradiction, I had seen the lowest of the low by the time I was 10. My family had money and I was living in the white-suburbs with people who had been catered to all of their lives. They have never eaten at soup kitchens, seen people robbed, heard or seen gunshots, seen dog fights, didn’t know when their next meal was coming etc. While I was growing up I was going back and forth between these lifestyles, as my father lived in hood of the city and my mum lived in the suburbs. This meant that depending on who I was with I would act in two different way but because of this I lost my own personal identity, which I have slowly begun to recapture. But because of all this I never truly related to anyone and always felt like an outsider, and this lead to using substances to numb my pain and internal struggle.

During this time, looking back on it now, I was also struggling immensely with my mental health. However while I was growing up I would say I was a victim of toxic masculinity or it had an immense impact on my life as I was unable to discuss my emotions and figure out how I felt and verbalize my internal struggles. Being honest, I thought it was just hormones and growing up having these conflicting struggles but as it turns out it wasn’t and well here we are. Now most of you may know that people who suffer with mental health generally turn to drugs as a way to escape their perceived reality, or being self-mediating because they have acknowledged their own struggles but others will not listen and help you with your struggle. But I began to use heavily in university which resulted in an “accidental attempted suicide.” Which just means that subconsciously I was taking drugs and living recklessly as I had lost the will to live and be around others essentially. This all resulted in me going to rehab in my final year of university and still graduating with honours that year.

Other little things that will be discussed a long this adventure is the lost of my longest friend to suicide, who is now tattooed on me, the suicide of my best friends dad where I was actually with him when it happened and still went and wrote two exams the next day, dating a controlling woman who wanted to retain all power over me, and struggles with authority and my parental figures.

This has been a lot of information for me to discuss in such a short blog so I am going to end this post now and conclude it with this last paragraph. As much as I have stated that this to help others I will acknowledge that this will be very beneficial for me as well, and as I have matured I have realized that yes at one point my life and mental health were complete shiet, but I was able to overcome my struggles and am now quite successful and happy. Understanding that I have struggled and have overcome it, and am open to discussing my issues will hopefully lead to a further understanding about the impact of one’s environment while being raised, struggling with drugs, perseverance, and if it can just help one individual then this will have all been worth it.

All in all from here on out I will be focusing on a singular aspect of my life and expanding on it, as well as bringing other people in to tell their story and provide some external context as to who I am.

Bye for now!

#mental health #mental illness #life #health & fitness

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theguideke-blog · 5 years

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How to Apply for a Kenyan Passport From Any Country (3 Actionable Detailed Methods)

Apply for a Kenyan Visa at the comfort of your room with our comprehensive, easy tutorial! As Kenya’s best online cybercafé, we’ll provide all the info you need.How to Apply for Kenyan Visa? Here's- The Only Guide You Need! Are you looking forward to visiting Kenya for work, residence, vacation, tourism or study? It is quite simple! Unlike the other African countries where you have to queue for a month at the Embassy, Kenya has brought a more straightforward online procedure where you get your VISA and from the comfort of your palms! But first, let’s see the type of Visa you need.

Document for a VISA. You can apply for a Kenyan VISA online (eVISA)

Types of Kenyan VISAs

There are up to five types of Visa you can get in Kenya. This depends on your status, the position you hold in your country as well as your country of origin. Also, the kind of VISA that you get from Kenya’s immigration department depends on what you’re coming to do in the country. Single Journey Visa/Multiple Journey Visa If Kenya requires you (and other citizens of your country) to have a VISA when visiting the country, you’ll need to state how often you’ll tour. So, when you are a regular visitor in Kenya, you’ll need to sign up for the Multiple Entries Kenyan Visa. However, if you are a tourist or you want to visit Kenya once, then you can have the Single Journey Visa. Transit VISA If you are traveling to another destination through Kenya, then you might want to have a VISA. The transit VISA is only valid for three days (72 hours after issue). If you are on a flight to another country, but you want to rest in Kenya, then you’ll need this VISA. Also, if you are a driver traveling on Kenyan roads or the railway (or any other mode of transport) through the country, you’re required to have a Transit Visa. The East African Tourist Visa Holders of the East Africa Tourist Visas allow people from Uganda, Rwanda, and Uganda to visit any place in those countries within 90 days. However, it’s important to note that the EA passport is for tourists only. The online system does not affect these countries, as you will have to write to the Kenyan embassy in your country. Diplomatic Visa The Kenyan diplomatic VISA is issued to people who hold diplomatic passports when they are on official duty. Diplomatic Visas are usually given to specific state or international organization representatives. Single and Multiple entry diplomatic visas are given to people depending on their official missions. Courtesy or Official VISA An official VISA is given to people who are on Informal services or duties but don’t possess the diplomatic passports. So, for international courtesy reasons, the Director of Immigration Services issues the Visas.

How to Apply Kenyan Visa Online

The Online Kenya eVisa application enables you to have your travel permit ready even without moving out of your couch. Real-time approvals for web applications are in place for you to visit Kenya. Log on to the site http://evisa.go.ke/evisa.html and follow the prompts. The three steps below will guide you to find your Kenyan visa with ease. Enter the eVISA website.Choose to register as a visitor. Confirm your details and login into the system.Select the Department of Immigration Services.Select “Submit Application.”Choose the Kenyan Visa.Tap on the button with the kind of VISA that you want.After reading the instructions carefully, enter the correct information in the Kenyan VISA application form.Pay the VISA fee via the secure channel using your VISA card, MasterCard or any other acceptable debit card.Check your email for the approval/permit. You’ll get an eVISA on your eCItizen or eVISA account (depending on the platform you used).Download and print the eVISA.When you arrive in Kenya, present the eVISA you printed above. It is as valid as a traditional paper-VISA.

Requirements for applying for a Kenyan Visa

Documents that you’ll need to show on arrival at the Kenyan port include the following. You must have a passport that has been valid for a minimum of 6 months.eVISA printed out from eVisa.Go.Ke or eCitizen.Go.Ke.It’s compulsory to have an Onward Ticket when you’re on transit Visa.Well elaborated travel Itinerary.You need a supporting letter, written permission from the company or family that has invited you.Hotel Bookings and details of places you’re going to visit if you’re a tourist. Kenyan VISA Registration Photo Requirements When filling out the Kenyan VISA application form, you’ll be required to provide a recent passport-sized photo of yourself. Here are the guidelines for capturing the picture. You need a color passport-sized photograph of yourself when looking directly at the camera with a white background. Your face should cover about 80 percent of the close-up photo.The photo must be 5.5 centimeters by 5.5 centimeters or 207 pixels by 207 pixels.The photo must be recent and not older than six months.Wear no headgear, cap or hat when taking the photo. However, there are exceptions if the headgear is a show of religious allegiances. The chin, eyes, nose, eyebrows, and forehead, however, must not be covered.Hair must be tucked behind the ears.The VISA photograph must have to scratches, creases, staple marks or ink marks.Further, the picture must show the exact natural skin tone of the applicant.Only original photographs will be allowed. Scanned and photocopied pictures may lead to direct disqualification. When you upload an authentic passport photo of yourself, you will be able to complete the Kenyan Visa application. You will then pay a non-refundable fee in US dollars.

Manual Visa Application at the Kenyan Embassy or High Commission

If you find the e-Visa any complicated, you can visit the Kenyan High Commission in your country (which could be a little tiresome) for a valid Visa to the country. Anyone across the world can manage to get a Kenyan Visa on the site (e-Visa Kenya). But those who come from the following countries must first visit the Kenyan High Commission or Embassy in their countries before visiting: Syria, Senegal, Libya, Somalia, Mali, Eritrea, Iraq, Tajikistan, Afghanistan, Azerbaijan, Armenia, Cameroon, Palestine, Lebanon, Democratic People's Republic of Korea and Eritrea.

eVISA Kiosks: Applying for a Kenyan VISA at the Airport

If due to factors beyond your influence, you haven’t applied for the visa early enough and you’re stranded at the airport, the immigration department may help you out. Especially, if you alight at the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport (JKIA) or the Mombasa International Airport (MIA), you can enter one of the e-Visa kiosks for assistance. The attendants will assist carry out an online application for an eVISA. But, the eVISA kiosks are only for emergency cases, and you shouldn’t depend on them.

FAQs About Kenyan Passport Application

Language of Operation in Kenya Visa Application When applying for a Kenyan Visa, the portal is in English only. Nonetheless, the system can be modified using the Google translator feature at the top to offer the info in French, Italian, German, and Chinese and others. Role of your Travel operator/agent in Kenyan Visa application As long as they provide accurate information, your travel agent can apply for the Visa on your behalf. However, they will need to attach invitation letters, itinerary or bookings. These details include your name, personal phone number, and other personal data for your security and emergency services. Digital Photo and Fingerprints When you arrive at the immigration desk, a digital photo and fingerprints will be required. The immigration desk only confirms that indeed, you are the actual person in the Kenyan e-Visa. Credit Card information in Kenya Visa Application It could be tiresome to keep contacting your card provider when you are in Kenya. Therefore, you will get a safe way to process your credit card while in Kenya. NO ONE will ask you about the card details- it is yours! You may only use the card or PayPal during the application. Approval of the Kenyan Visa Online Application Once your info is processed and your Kenya e-Visa approved, you will receive a notification on your email. This will be a response by your country's Embassy or High Commission.

Kenyan Visitor Visa Eligible countries

Kenya welcomes visitors from literally any part of the world. However, due to administrative procedures, some citizens are free to visit Kenya even without a Visa. First, everyone from the East African Federation or Community should think of Kenya as home already. If you are from Rwanda, Burundi, Uganda, South Sudan or Tanzania, the Arusha-East African treaty covers you! Countries that Can Visit Kenya Without Any VISA Requirement Also, Kenya allows people from different African countries to come without any Visa. These countries include: BotswanaEthiopiaGambiaGhanaLesothoMalawiMauritiusNamibiaPapua New GuineaSeychellesSierra LeoneSouth Africa (For less than 30 days stay)SwazilandTongaZambiaZimbabwe Other citizens that Kenya welcomes freely include those from: BahamasBarbadosBelizeBruneiCyprusDominicaFijiGrenadaJamaicaKiribatiMalaysia (For less than 30 days stay)MaldivesNauruSt Kitts & NevisSt LuciaSaint Vincent & the GrenadinesSamoaSan MarinoSingaporeSolomon IslandsTrinidad & TobagoTuvaluVanuatu Countries whose citizens will get a Kenyan VISA upon application If you’re from any of the following countries, you’re eligible to register for a Kenyan VISA. AlbaniaAlgeriaAndorraAngolaAntigua and BermudaArgentinaAustraliaAustriaBahrainBangladeshBelarusBelgiumBeninBhutanBoliviaBosnia HerzegovinaBrazilBulgariaBurkina FasoCambodiaCanadaCape VerdeCentral African RepChadChina {P.R}ColombiaComorosCongo {Brazzaville}Congo {Democratic Rep}Costa RicaCroatiaCubaCzech RepublicDenmarkDjiboutiDominican RepublicEast TimorEcuadorEgyptEl SalvadorEquatorial GuineaEstoniaFinlandFranceGabonGeorgiaGermanyGreeceGreenlandGuatemalaGuineaGuinea-BissauGuyanaHaitiHondurasHong Kong {SAR}HungaryIcelandIndiaIndonesiaIranIraqIreland {Republic}IsraelItalyIvory CoastJapanJordanKampucheaKazakhstanKirghizistanKorea SouthKuwaitLaosLatviaLiberiaLiechtensteinLithuaniaLuxembourgMacedoniaMacau {SAR}MadagascarMalagasyMaltaMarshall IslandsMauritaniaMexicoMicronesiaMoldovaMonacoMongoliaMontenegroMoroccoMozambiqueMyanmar {Burma}NepalNetherlandsNew ZealandNicaraguaNigerNigerianorwayOmanPacific IslesPakistanPalauPanamaParaguayPeruPhilippinesPolandPortugalQatarReunionRomaniaRussian FederationSalvadorSaint Christopher CapeSao Tome & PrincipeSaudi ArabiaSerbiaSlovakiaSloveniaSouth SudanSpainSri LankaSudanSurinameSwedenSwitzerlandTaiwanThailandTogoTunisiaTurkeyTurkmenistanUkraineUnited Arab EmiratesUnited KingdomUnited StatesUruguayUzbekistanVatican CityVenezuela VietnamYugoslavia and the former States of Yugoslavia Restricted Kenyan VISA Applicants However, some visitors have to contact the Director of Immigration Services. In short, such visitors would need a referral VISA to be allowed in Kenya. These include: People who are objected to moving out of their country by their law or government. This would need formal permission from their immigration office to prove that they indeed qualify to travel to Kenya.Stateless people or anyone who doesn’t have a valid passport or official travel document from their country of origin will have to present their referral visa. This includes any refugee who holds a United Nations Refugee Travel permit.Also, anyone whose description or character is anticipated by the Kenyan law of prohibited immigrants will need to get referral documents to get a Kenyan Visa. Further, anyone from the following countries will need a referral visa by contacting Kenya’ Director of Immigration Services: AfghanistanArmeniaAzerbaijanCameroonEritreaIraqDemocratic People's Republic of Korea (North Korea)KosovoLebanonLibyaMaliPalestineSenegalSomaliaSyriaTajikistanYemen The Director of Immigration Services, Kenya When any reference to the Director of Immigration Services in Nairobi is needed, anyone who falls under any of the above criteria has to send the duly completed application forms and attach the referral documents. The Immigration Director will approve the application as per the law. Such approval should reach at least one month before the person comes to Kenya. The director’s email is [email protected] and [email protected]. You can also call +25420 222 2022 or send your application to the address: The Director of Immigration Services Nyayo House P. O. Box 30191 00100 NAIROBI.

Fees for Applying Kenyan VISA

To successfully process your VISA, you’ll need to pay between $10 (10 USD) to $100 (100 USD). The amount of money you pay will depend on the fees levied on the specific kind of VISA you’re applying for. Here’s a breakdown of the VISA payment requirements in Kenya. Please note the charges are subject to review and changes can occur before you complete filling out your VISA application forms. An ordinary single journey Kenyan VISA shall cost you $50 (50 USD)The standard Fees for multiple travels VISA is $100 (100 USD). This applies to citizens of any country.Transit VISA fee is $20 (20 USD)The referral visa charges shall be $10 (ten USD)

DISCLAIMER: What You Must Know Before You Apply For Kenyan VISA

Application for a VISA in Kenya may be made online, but the E-Visa must be printed out and presented at the airport or any port of entry. The VISA shall be required before my entry into the Republic of Kenya.Any foreigner who engages in any form of business, employment activity or any other engagement without formal legal permission may be sued under the laws of Kenya.All incomplete VISA application forms shall be rejected.The processing fee is non-refundable as it is used to process approval or non-approval.Please note that possessing a VISA does not guarantee the authority to enter in Kenya.

Parting Shot: A Recap on How to Apply Kenyan VISA

Of course, the immigration procedures are often strenous- all governmental and legal processes are anyway! However, Kenyans are some of the most welcoming people in the world. They’ll great you warmly and will want you to enjoy your stay. You can fill your Kenyan VISA application form at the ambassador or High Commissioner Offices in your country, or online. The good thing about the digital VISA application is that it is convenient and you can do it at your comfort. Once your VISA is approved and you have everything in place, you are ready for the Kenyan Tour! Read the full article

#Immigration #VisitKenya

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chocolatechubby · 6 years

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Morph

Reprinted by permission of the author

(with deference to Wilson Barber and his wonderful Fast Majicke stories)

The CD case was quite ordinary. The only distinction, a small iridescent strip on the spine that caught Ben’s eye as he pawed lazily through the bargain software bin. It said simply “Morph”, and had a picture of a man in various stages of metamorphosis. There was something about the realistic quality of each rendering that made Ben hold onto the software.

It had been a tense morning at work, and he’d slipped out for a longer than usual lunch. Since his break up with Devin, he wasn’t able to concentrate as fully. Ben, the chief designer in his company’s marketing department, had allowed his ennui to cause two very costly mistakes that did not sit well with his boss. Called into his supervisor’s office, the phrases “pink slip” and “severance package” punctuated the conversation. Ben thought it best to allow time for his boss to cool down. He loved to come into Chucky’s Computer Cove when he was restless.

Chucky’s was a little Mom and Pop operation a few blocks from his office. The most beautiful brother he had ever seen—well besides Devin—owned it. Actually, Charles Brown, or “Chucky”, reminded Ben a lot of Devin: tall, cocoa brown skin, grey eyes and shiny bald head. They could easily have been brothers…with one major difference: Chucky weighed around a hundred and thirty pounds more than Devin did. Chucky had played for the Rams in the 90’s and busted his kneecaps sufficiently enough to make him walk with a pronounced limp. He had drowned his sorrows in food. Still solid and handsome, Chucky was definitely fat—a fact that Devin would rudely point out whenever he and Ben used to visit the shop together. “That’s the problem with brothers today...” Devin used to mutter under his breath—audible enough for Chucky to hear—“...we don’t take care of ourselves. THEN we wanna blame the white man for the fact that we can’t get ahead!”

Ben had never told Devin that he actually found Chucky’s size a turn on. He often fantasized about Devin putting on a few sexy pounds. A heftier Devin might also mean a kinder, gentler lover with less of an attitude. Devin’s attitude had been a major factor in the break up of the relationship. Both men had come from similar middle-class backgrounds. In fact, their mutual love of mainstream Americana had brought them together. Ben had heard Devin whistling the Brady Kids “Sunshine Day” in a record store, and the rest was history. Two black guys who, between them, knew every sitcom theme song since “Gilligan’s Island”.

But during the course of the relationship, Devin had begun to doubt his cultural identity. He would disappear for hours and, when questioned by Ben on returning, simply say he had been “hanging with the ‘brothas’”. Ben accepted his lover’s need to find himself; but it was how he chose to do so that had become an issue. Devin had taken up African drumming with a musician who played for an ethnic dance troupe—a tall muscular Kenyan who was the epitome of Black Maleness to Devin.

Then one day Ben had come home to find the two men pounding on a different type of skin in the bedroom. Even then, Devin chose to hide behind his search for identity. “Only a weak brother would have a problem with this”, Devin calmly stated rolled up in the sheets, as he watched the Kenyan drummer stumble around looking for his clothes and the tears rolling down his lover’s cheeks. “I can experiment with other forms of black love, and still want to be with you! And if you can’t understand that, then you have been brainwashed by the White Man.”

If the line had been any less clichéd and stupid, Ben probably would have kicked the shit out of Devin and the asshole drummer and landed in jail for assault. As it was, he just turned around, walked out of the apartment leaving his keys on the table by the front door, and cried himself to sleep in a hotel room at the Marriott around the corner.

That had been six months ago. And despite the callous and thoughtless things his former lover had done while in the relationship, he still missed him terribly. Sometimes he would come to the shop just to see the large physical reflection of Devin, which he found in Chucky.

“Ben!” Chucky shouted from across the store. No matter how busy Chucky was, he always found time to greet Ben personally. He finished helping the customers at the counter and lumbered over. It seemed to Ben that Chucky got larger every week. His big round belly seemed to hang lower over his straining khakis, and his arms almost burst out of his too tight shirts. “How ya’ doin’?” He asked, chewing on an enormous cruller. “Haven’t seen you and your friend here in a while.” Ben wondered, “Does Chucky know I’m gay?” He never felt awkward around Chucky…but ex-football player? Too many chances for homophobia so Ben always played it cool.

“We don’t hang out together anymore.” was Ben’s short reply. “Well probably for the better”, Chucky winked. There was something in the wink that gave Ben pause, but he decided not to pursue it. He changed the subject. “Chucky…do you know anything about the manufacturer of this software?” Ben showed him the CD-ROM he had picked up in the bargain bin. Chucky turned it over a couple of times. “Fast Magic”, Chucky mused. “Never heard of them. This must be one of the CD’s I bought from this homeless dude a couple of days ago. He looked like he could use a few bucks, and the stuff was in good condition. I was a little worried that he might have swiped it from somewhere, but he said he had invented it. Whatever. If you have any problems with it, just bring it back and get something else you like.”

“Thanks,” Ben said. Ben looked around a while longer, paid for the software and gave Chucky a final smile and wave. He couldn’t get Chuck’s comment: “Well probably for the better”, out of his mind.

The rest of the day was uneventful. The boss had calmed down enough to assign Ben to one of the agency’s bigger clients: Joe Dante’s BodyWonder line of bodybuilding supplements. Ben took the copy and the artwork home to play with it in his spare time. He seemed to have plenty of that these days. After dinner, he spread out the BodyWonder materials on the drafting table next to his computer and began looking over each item in earnest. It was all the same old crap: personal testimonials on how these pills and powders had changed lives.

Among the literature, were the standard “before” and “after” pictures that would show flabby men and women transformed into Venus and Adonis in a matter of weeks. Most of them looked better in the “before” pics, Ben thought. There were also the stills of Joe Dante himself—five-time World Body Building Champion and all around humanitarian—shaking hands with his success stories and showing off his impossible pecs. One of Ben’s jobs was to make sure that all the muscles and curves were in place on the “after” pictures. He wouldn’t really “change” any of the pictures—just clean up any unwanted bulges and enhance the image as best he could. He was always searching for new programs to help him with this task. He decided to try out his new software.

He slid the disc into his CD-ROM and hit “run”. The familiar blips and bleeps gave way to a high-pitched whine and the lights in his apartment began to flicker. Suddenly, the entire place went black. “Great!” Ben thought, “I’ve probably introduced this mega-virus to my computer, and I’m going to spend the next month cleaning up my hard drive!” As he was about to begin feeling through the darkness for the breaker switch, the apartment was again illuminated and the computer had its familiar glow. The new program had apparently installed itself and a little gnome-like wizard was waiting patiently on the screen prompting Ben to complete the process. “Please input registration code” the gnome instructed. Ben turned the jewel case over and over. No numbers anywhere. He was about to give up when he noticed the holographic strip that had caught his eye in the computer store. “8,3,1,9,9,0”

The numbers seemed to float in front of him. “That’s odd…” he thought, “…that’s my birthdate.” He keyed the numbers into the proper box and pressed enter. The little man walked to the center of the screen and slowly began to change. His body began to take on different forms—going from small and elf-like to muscular, to giant sized and overweight—each metamorphosis more believable than the last. The figure then winked and disappeared. Replacing it was the title of the software and a warning notice. “The creators of this program are not responsible for the misuse of this product. Please use with caution as results can be permanent.” “What an odd warning.” Ben thought.

He scanned a couple of the “before” and “after” images into his computer, along with one or two pics of Joe Dante posing at some contest or another, then brought them into the new program. The interface looked pretty simple. He rarely looked at the “readme” files that came with graphics software—most of the writing was for novices. The tools were familiar and he quickly got the hang of using the program’s palate and toolbars to create the effects he wanted. There was a smoothness, and an intuitive feel, that caught Ben’s imagination immediately.

He finished making his changes on the first image in record time. A mister Carl Hurley of Grand Rapids Michigan had gone from 330lbs of man fat, to 220lbs of muscle. He still, however showed a good deal of love handle, and his pecs were softer than the rest of his frame. Within a matter of minutes, Ben had managed to erase all indication of flab in his mid-section and tone his chest to perfection. The program had a tool that allowed the artist to effortlessly balance changes on one side of the body to reflect those on the other.

When he finished, he leaned back to examine his work. He was astonished. The picture in front of him was flawless. Every line, shadow and curve was perfect—if he hadn’t known the image had been retouched, he would have sworn this hunk in front of him had been born that way. That gave Ben a thought. He had always loved big men. In college, he worked for the school paper, taking photographs and drawing images for the sports column. Sometimes he’d get hard just sketching a big boy’s arms, legs and buttocks. Lineman made him cream, and he loved to draw huge beefy men and jack off to his heart’s content. Could the program help him do that to this guy?

He started with Hurley’s face, using the “before” image to recapture Carl’s strong double chin—he even added a goatee to give him a slight bearish quality. Then he worked on the upper body—smoothing out some of the pectoral and upper arm definitions so that Mr. Hurley looked more like a powerlifter than a bodybuilder. He lovingly sculpted the stomach, so that a strong gut emerged from the burgeoning six-pack abs, and placed it on powerfully built legs that would never fit into a standard pair of pants. He lengthened Hurley’s entire frame so that he took on the larger than life proportions of a comic book superhero. By the time Ben had finished, Mr. Carl Hurley had gone from a 220lb-muscle boy, to a 400lb behemoth that could play for any professional football team in the league.

Again, he surveyed his work, astonished by the results. There before him was a perfect slab of male beef. His penis confirmed the aesthetic appeal. Suddenly, the little brain in his underwear took over. He wondered aloud, “If the software could turn Carl Hurley into a hunk…could it turn Joe Dante into a chunk?” His imagination and dick began to respond. He grabbed one of the shots of the owner of BodyWonder and went to work. The program was incredible. He had seen morphs online in many of the big men sites he frequented—many were poor in quality—impossibly stretched midsections on underwear models. Every now and then, he’d run into some real masterpieces, but for the most part, he’d lost interest quickly. And forget about men of color. No one seemed to have any interest in making Lee Haney fat.

With this program, he would change all of that. It was as if the Morph software could read Ben’s mind. He watched as the tight, overly muscled body of BodyWonder’s founder melted into the smooth corpulent flesh of the men in Ben’s dreams. Under his mouse, Joe Dante’s pecs became voluminous man tits, puffed out and resting heavily on a stomach that fell past his mammoth thighs to his knees. His face, which most morphers failed to touch, became large and round with a huge double chin that enveloped any trace of a neck—his arms and shoulders joining it in a wide and fleshy mass. He gave him huge suckable nipples that sat in the exact center of perfectly round areolas the size of small saucers; and huge legs the size of Redwoods, with a rump to match. He finished him off with an organ long enough to peek past Dante’s stomach, and rest below the massive gut.

When he had finished, Joe Dante looked like he weighed over a quarter of a ton—a perfect transformation. Ben had the raging hard-on of his life. This program was the stuff of all his fantasies. Of course, he would have to do normal sized renderings for campaigns, but he would have his own private gallery of manufactured big men all for himself. He clicked “file”, and then “save” and the familiar “are you sure you want to save this file?” prompt appeared. Ben clicked “okay” and oddly, the program asked again “are you really, really sure?” Ben did a double take—must be the programmer’s idea of a joke. He clicked “okay” again. “File saved”, was the software’s smug response.

Ben yawned mightily and looked at his watch. Two A.M. He had been at this since eight in the evening. He knew he had to get up for work in a couple of hours, but there was one more rendering he had to do. He searched through the picture files on his computer and came up with the perfect image of Devin. It was one of their vacation photos. On the beach in Hawaii, Devin could have been an ancient island god. “Let’s see how the program does on a ‘brotha’”, Ben thought. He worked feverishly—barely containing his lust. When he had finished, he had the perfect Devin—a Devin that made Chucky from the Computer Cove look as if he was on Slim Fast. Ben shot the biggest load of his life, and fell fast asleep at the desk.

He woke up late for work.

As he arrived breathless to the door of his office, he heard a great commotion coming from his supervisor’s suite. “Might as well start packing he thought.” Sure that firing was in store, he decided to get it over with, and headed towards the door to his boss’ office. He was not prepared for what he saw. Standing, well, stooping in the door of his superior’s suite was none other than Mr. Carl Hurley himself. Ben’s late evening jack off project was standing before him in the flesh. However, not the 220 pound muscle boy from neither the “after” picture, nor the fleshy 330-pound “before” fat man. In front of Ben was the spitting image of the morph that he had created: 400 pounds of Carl Hurley. He was so big; he could barely fit in the doorframe. Every part of him was exactly as Ben had sculpted: arms the size of an average man’s waist, chest so wide it struggled to stay inside the overly stretched super-sized sweatshirt he wore. His legs were so big; they had begun to rub the material between his thighs thin. He was phenomenal.

His voice boomed in the small confines of the office. Ben caught the last part of his sentence: “…incredible! I took a glass full of supplement last night before bed, and I woke up like this! I must’ve grown half a foot and look at my body!” He flexed impossibly huge biceps and nearly hit his head on the frame of the door.

“And look at mine!” came a muffled croak from inside the office.

Hurley moved slightly, and Ben caught a glimpse of his second shock of the morning. Sitting in his boss’s office, taking up a couch that usually held three people, was one enormous Joe Dante. He too was exactly as Ben had morphed him—a human Jabba the Hut, scarfing down doughnut after doughnut: his jowls quivering as he struggled to keep up with his new hunger. There was so much fat on his body, he could barely raise his arms to stuff his sausage fingers in his mouth. His mountain of a belly stretched out three feet in front of him and cascaded down between his mammoth legs. And through his too tight sweatpants, Ben could make out the organ of organs hanging like an elephant’s trunk between them. Ben took a step backward, almost fainting in disbelief.

What the hell was going on? Had he done this? Dante was burping, eating and talking all at the same time. “Must be a glitch in the new formulas. I knew I should never sample this crap!” he said, spewing out chocolate sprinkles. “How am I going to sell this shit looking like Moby Dick?” “Speaking of which…” chuckled Hurley “…I’ve noticed a change in THAT area as well!” “Only damn good think about all this!” the mountain that was Dante replied—trying to reach for his mammoth penis that jumped every time he took another bite of doughnut. “Well we’ll just have to cancel any appearances until we figure out what went wrong. Until then,…” Dante eyed the remaining food with a lust usually intended for a night of raw sex “…I get to eat anything I want! Wheel me to the nearest all you can eat buffet!”

Ben staggered to his desk—his eyes swimming from what he had just seen. Somehow, his lust-filled fantasy handiwork on the computer had become a reality. How was this possible? What kind of program was this that had the power to transform people with a few strokes of a mouse? He had to find answers. Chucky told him to come back to the Computer Cove if there were any problems with the software. Well, this was a big problem.

He decided to go back to Chucky and find out if he knew anything else about the program or the homeless man who sold it to him. First, he needed to get to the restroom. His crotch was so hard from witnessing the two men’s transformation that he had trouble walking to the john. Once in a stall, he stripped down to his skivvies, propped one leg on the toilet seat, and let his mind play back the pictures of Joe Dante and Carl Hurley. Their sheer mass was unimaginable and hotter than he could have ever dreamed.

He stroked himself and watched his cock grow hard and throbbing in a transformation of its own—veins bursting as the image of the burping Dante grew stronger. The force of his ejaculation threw him against the wall of the stall. Whatever was happening was certainly good for his libido.

There was only one customer in the shop when Ben entered. A man at the counter was in a hushed conversation with Chucky. And what a man he was. It was a very obese man who, from the looks of his clothing had been growing quite rapidly. From behind, his fleshy rump crack was peeking boldly from pants that barely contained his big butt. His puny shirt could no longer hold his mass, and incredibly ample love handles played hide and seek on each side, exposing most of the mid-section. And what a mid-section it was. From where Ben stood, the man’s brown belly pressed on the counter and hung halfway down his thighs. He ungainly shifted, supporting his bulk by leaning his chubby arms on its surface. Chucky was so enrapt in conversation with this fat boy that he hadn’t looked up for his usual greeting.

As Ben approached the two big men, he could hear bits of the conversation. The guy with his back turned must have been quizzing Ben about area eateries. “There’s a Pizza Hut around the corner that has a pretty good lunch buffet…” Chucky offered “…but with the way I bet you like to eat, try the Bloated Belly around the corner—they know how to treat guys like us!” It was then that Chucky noticed Ben. “Ben!” Chucky cried. “Look who stopped by to say ‘hello’!” The big boy turned around.

It was Devin.

TO BE CONTINUED

#ccmorphs #fatbrwncub

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serenella-scrive · 3 years

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RO (ft. MC) Information; Part 1/TBD

Skin Tone Chart (Note: Tentative due to limited color options on the chart used, so I will possibly be providing a more in-depth color guide with a range of hexadecimal color codes once I finish drawing their portraits. I got the chart below through a quick internet search so I could have a flat background color to sketch preliminary portraits on during the initial creation phases.

Since the world my ROs live in don't have the same ethnic breakdowns as the one we live in, I'll be giving the ethnicities of the models I used to help create the ROs appearance. TC: Mexican, TR: Italian, TB: Indian & Punjabi, TP: Vietnamese & Chinese, TL: Kenyan & Nigerian.

(**The MC is broadly Mediterranean, though not from any specific existing country; my story partially takes place in the fantasy world the ROs live in, and partially on a small island nation somewhere in the Basin in the general Turkey, Greece, Italy, and Northern Africa area. I haven't decided if the MC's country is part of the EU yet, but it likely will be. Your MC can look however you want them to look. This story takes place in modern-day, and I would recommend Erkenci Kuş and My Big Fat Greek Wedding as cultural references to how the world around the MC functions. (Note: This does not apply to the fantasy world most of the story will take place in, as that is going to be formatted more as a D&D-style questventure with the MC and ROs making up the party.))

Sexuality: All of my ROs are bi and broadly aspec. Their individual expressions reflect some of my own experiences identifying as bi, demiromantic, and asexual, so there will be many similarities between them all, but their romance paths with still be very different and distinct. [Link to more information on the aspec aspect of their identities here.]

Gender: Ideally, for both the ROs and the MC, there would be male, female, nonbinary options (cis or trans), as well as customization of pronouns. (Note: The ROs [portraits] are currently are only available in male or female. I am presently not able to take on any additional workload, as I have limited resources and have yet to learn coding. But! Writing prompt requests will be taken for male, female, and nonbinary ROs and MCs, which will be written with with he/him, she/her, and they/them pronouns, respectively! If no gender preference is indicated in the prompt request, pronouns used for the character/s will be at my leisure.)

(Final Note: This story is still in the beginning stages, and while this RO information will not change at its core, I reserve the right to edit or repost this information whenever I feel like updating its contents and adding links to resources or related posts.)

#ch[ro]:all #ch[ro]:all:deusdice #ch[ro]:all:information #tags to be edited #story:[important posts]#story:[deus dice]

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thevividgreenmoss · 4 years

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The basic facts are these: the famine struck the people of south-central Somalia, chiefly farming communities who had long been unable to reap the fruits of their labours because their lands were targeted by better-armed political-military factions. On top of this came onerous taxation policies enforced by the militant group al-Shabaab, war between al-Shabaab and the Ethiopian and Kenyan troops stationed as part of the African Union Mission in Somalia, and corruption in the internationally recognized Transitional Federal Government. The twin triggers for the crisis were a severe drought and a sharp rise in the market price of food – the second wave of the so-called “global food crisis” when Wall Street commodity speculators briefly but calamitously pushed up the international price of staple foods to twice their previous levels.

Over years of working in the most difficult conditions, relief workers in Somalia and neighbouring countries developed a system for predicting food crises: the dourly named Integrated Food Security Phase Classification system (IPC scale). In 2010, the IPC did its job. Maxwell and Majid write: “this crisis was well predicted. [But] a crisis that might have prompted a major food aid response under other circumstances instead simply failed to elicit any proportionate response for a period of nearly ten months”. This was the final factor: emergency aid wasn’t automatic and was obstructed by other priorities.

Humanitarian action is funded case by case, cash in hand. As argued by Daniel Clark and Stefan Dercon in their book Dull Disasters (2016), “This ad-hoc, post-disaster model for financing disasters is hardly worthy of the twenty-first century. In fact it feels distinctly medieval”. Clark and Dercon liken it to benefactors tossing coins to beggars lined up outside a cathedral or mosque, their generosity depending on the coins in their hand and pity in their hearts.

Our disaster relief system isn’t just rudimentary, but dependent on all kinds of other political bargaining. So it was in Somalia: after the IPC warnings, food aid actually dropped by about 80 per cent. The reason was what Maxwell and Majid call a “competing imperative”: the War on Terror. Al-Shabaab had just been designated a terrorist organization and the Obama administration shut down the aid pipeline under the US Patriot Act which prohibits any “material support” to terrorists. This includes assistance inadvertently given, for example if a lorryload of food aid is stolen, or militants manning a checkpoint are paid off to let the life-saving assistance pass. It is a fact of life that food aid pipelines are leaky: some relief finds its way to the pockets of trucking companies, government officials and the armed groups active among stricken communities. But the maxim attributed to Ronald Reagan, “a starving child knows no politics”, doesn’t apply in the War on Terror. For ten months, relief officials in the UN and the US Agency for International Development argued with the US Department of the Treasury and Department of Justice, before the latter agreed a “workaround”. Counter-terror legislation still casts a chill over humanitarian work in Somalia – as well as in Syria, Yemen and previously in Sri Lanka. President Bill Clinton famously apologized for America’s failure to stop the Rwanda genocide. President Barack Obama has yet to acknowledge any commensurate failing in Somalia.

https://www.the-tls.co.uk/articles/humanitarian-effectiveness-starvation-famines-somalia-syria/

“The suffering played out like a drama without witnesses,” said Philippe Lazzarini, UN Humanitarian Coordinator for Somalia, reacting to the findings in a new report funded and commissioned by the UN Food and Agricultural Organization (FAO).

Some 133,000 of the Somalis who perished – about half – were children under five, according to FAO’s Food Security and Nutrition Analysis Unit for Somalia (FSNAU), which carried out the study along with the USAID-funded Famine Early Warning Systems Network (FEWS NET).

Calling the magnitude of the mortality figures “unsettling”, Mr. Lazzarini said the report confirms “that we could have done more before famine was declared on 20 July 2011” and that it will help ensure “that Somalia never goes through another famine again.”

He added that “warnings that began as far back as the drought in 2010 did not trigger sufficient early action. In the worst affected areas, access to people in need was tremendously difficult.

At the peak of the crises, between May and August 2011, about 30,000 excess people died per month, according to the study.

“An estimated 4.6 per cent of the total population and 10 per cent of children under 5 died in Southern and Central Somalia,” FAO reported. “Lower Shabelle, Mogadishu, and Bay were hardest hit.”

https://news.un.org/en/story/2013/05/438682-somalia-famine-killed-nearly-260000-people-half-them-children-reports-un

#and a few years later obama's executive - again under the auspices of the patriot act - blocked #money transfers to somalia cutting off remittances sent by expats to their families which comprised an enormous percentage of the country's #economic funds :))))))#first piece above is by a dyed in the wool lib and second is from the UN so of course neither even begin to touch on #the american government's role in fucking ip the country in the first place from HW Bush through Obama and now Trump with cia-led covert op #support for a rotating cast of warlords and the creation of the incompetent and.corrupt TFG in the first place and drone warfare and #organizing invasions of forced from neighboring countries and torture cells and on and on

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