#I started this with far too many expectations

[mortalityplays]

Forgive me if I'm mistaking you for another person, but I remember you speaking at multiple points on the unsustainability of free social media services (I think especially in response to the cohost collapse?), and I'm curious on what your thoughts on bluesky are so far. I'm not an expert on the subject, but from what I've read previously it seemed like they were on track to be financially sustainable, but I don't know if the recent floods of users has thrown those projections off. Sorry if I'm mixing you up with someone else on my timeline, in that case just ignore me.

bluesky will almost certainly follow the same trajectory of monetisation => bloat => enshittification => decline as every other major platform built on venture capital and user hoarding. it's a terrible model that only works in the short term as a mirage for attracting funding and making founders look good for a year or two before they sell.

you can see the same effect in the decline of all the subscription box services that came into vogue just before covid: they feel great to use for as long as the initial injection of venture funding lasts, because the purpose of that funding at that stage is to attract users and impress the next round of funders with how pleasant/intuitive/efficient/ethical/good value the service is. that's the stage where they're handing out freebies and bowling over influencers, and every ingredient in the box is fresh and high quality and locally sourced. wow what a good deal, what a great system!!! why hasn't anyone done this before? the answer is because it's unsustainable by design. they rack up good reviews, sign on a billion new users, attract new funding from a bunch of much more credulous investors, and then gut all of the expensive parts. portions get smaller, ingredients get worse, packaging gets flimsier, prices go up, freebies turn into "5% off your first 9 boxes when you invite 3 friends", and customer service vanishes.

with social media (and platforms like discord) the logic is the same, it's just a little less glaringly obvious to the end user because they're not coming home to leaking packages of rancid chicken on the doorstep. bluesky has an advantage over tiny operations like cohost because it was founded by a billionaire making a point for the sake of his own image. it got a really significant chunk of startup funding, and the owner had existing connections and rep in the space to attract more. That's why it has survived the goldrush period, why it still feels good to use, and why users who have been burned so many times before are finally accepting it as a stable, reliable option. It's still in its venture capital honeymoon phase where the only thing worth spending money on is making the service attractive to users.

What I expect we will see next, with another mass influx of users from twitter and new funding from a rogue's gallery of tech venture sickos led by Blockchain Capital is a strong ramp up into monetising that userbase. They've already been pretty forthright about how they plan to do this, and I think it's a solid roadmap of how Bluesky will bloat and decay over the next few years:

this is a huge lol. don't worry, we're not going to hyperfinancialize the social experience through NFTs. the thing even crypto freaks started feigning amnesia about a year ago. real "our health conscious sodas are 100% arsenic free" messaging here. They know perfectly well that rubes users are suspicious of their typical 5 dimensional tech finance chess games and are patting our hands about last week's bogeymen so nobody worries too hard about whatever 'decentralised developer ecosystem' just happens to be helmed by a bunch of crypto guys. this definitely means something good and based and not a google-like single sign on user data harvesting operation.

This is the same shit that's currently rotting the floorboards of discord. Bluntly, there is no way to run a platform on this scale without gating functionality behind paid services. Discord has been squeezing free-tier file uploads and call quality etc. down steadily and cranking up subscription costs over the last year or two, throwing in chaff like animated avatar frames to try and justify the user cost. They're also doing the same misdirection thing again here, pointing to Thing We All Hate to deflect from thing we might not like very much when they do it. Booo elon booo we all hate elon!!! wait how do we feel about subscription models again,

watch out for this to kill porn on bsky like it has killed porn on every other social platform 👍 boooo we hate elon boooo stupid idiot and his 'everything app' booooo wait why do you need my tax information, what's that about mastercard,

Look, we are all aware social media is a money pit. Let's not forget dorsey was looking to sell twitter in the first place, long before elon's very public plunge into total online derangement. Subscription services are not going to plug the hole, so we are gradually going to see more and more spaghetti thrown at the wall while early funders shuffle cards and do their pyramid scheme bit bringing in stupider and stupider investments. this is the window in which bluesky will be temporarily worth using for us, for the idiot public, the poorly rendered crowd jpegs in the background of their venture capital MOBA. it's in their interests to slow and pad the decline as much as possible, because that is how they get maximally paid.

Given the scale of the money involved, and dorsey's weird ego investment, I think bluesky will probably manage a controlled drift for a good few years before it gets really bloated and painful. and by then we will all be so used to the *checks notes* decentralised developer ecosystem that we'll just be posting through it, watching another generation of columnists call another collapsing platform 'their beloved hellsite' and passing around that meme about not getting out of our chairs no sir until idk we all get on a fediverse neurolink alternative to stick it to the elongated muskrat and our brains pop peacefully in our sleep. which I guess is the closest thing to viability any social media platform can achieve.

anyway diogenes the cynic is also on bluesky

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Love your DC content!! Can you write something olderbf bruce becoming a parent with younger reader? Or bestfriend jason finding out reader is dating dick?

Thank you 💜

Omg absolutely!! Tysm for the request and I definitely want to write the one for Jason at some point in the future, buttt for now, because its 2 AM, you'll get some OlderBF! Bruce :)

-----------------------------

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne Becoming a Parent

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who finds out that you're pregnant before you even know. To be fair, it didn't take the world's greatest detective to notice the menstrual products in your master bathroom that haven't been touched in the past two months or so.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who makes you feel silly for ever being nervous about telling him that you're pregnant, even though he's freaking out a little on the inside.

Your day was long. Long enough that your back had been aching and your feet and ankles were sore. Hell, you could barely keep your eyes open while standing, how the hell could you exoect yourself to stay awake while laying down on one of the lavish couches in Wayne Manor's library? But, in the blink of an eye (literally), you were awoken by Bruce carefully taking off your shoes. Had you really just passed out on the spot? Pregnancy symptoms must've been hitting you a little harder than you thought...

"Any morning sickness today?" He asks casually as he finishes taking off your other shoe before pressing a kiss to your knee.

"No... It's been alright." You answer without thinking too much about the question. But after a few moments of relishing in the heavenly feeling of Bruce rubbing your swollen feet, the question clicks. "Wait, I can explain-"

"And so can the pads and tampons in the bathroom that haven't been used in two months." He answers before you can finish, his tone as casual as if he were talking about the rainy Gotham weather. "Were you going to tell me?" Bruce asks as he continues his minstrations on your sore feet, his thumbs pressing into your aching arches.

"Of course I was." You answer without hesitation, because you knew you could never keep a secret from Bruce for too long. He was far too observant for that. Yet another difference between him and the younger guys you've dated. "I just couldn't find a good time."

"Look at me, sweetheart." His voice is soft as he tilts your chin towards him, gently stroking your jaw in such a soothing manner that you may just fall asleep again. "Any time is a good time to talk to me about something like this, alright? I don't care how many work meetings I have or how late it is; you are always my top priority."

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who doesn't expect you to keep the baby, nor does he let you go through making a decision on your own. By the time you hit your third month, the two of you had talked maybe three to four times about what would be best for you, because you are the most important person in his life.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who is immediately at your side for every will and command from that moment on. He knows that this is your first child and just how hard the pregnancy will be on your body, so he refuses to risk anything. You need water? He's already there with a glass and small snack for you. You need to use the bathroom on one of the rare nights that he's home? He's already helping you out of bed and giving you long, tired hugs as soon as you stand before leading you to the master bathroom.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who starts taking a few more nights off whenever he can from his patrols just to be there for you and the tiny life inside your womb. He trusts that Dick can handle Gotham for a few nights on his own every once in a while, for your sake.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who still hasn't told you about his double life as a vigilante, but finally starts considering it. As soon as he started looking at rings, he knew he'd have to come clean eventually. He needed you in his life far more than he thought he'd ever need anyone or anything.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who doesn't let the paparazzi near you at all throughout your pregnancy. In fact, he's tried to keep you inside as much as possible to avoid them, since the two of you never made a public announcement. It was for your safety as much as it was for his sanity.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who is right there as soon as the contractions start (after his initial shock and internal panic attack). He doesn't leave your side for a moment, not even when he's certain you've fractured something in his hand from how hard you're gripping it.

There was almost a swarm of motion around you in the private hospital room you were set up in. Your contractions were coming in strong, and so was your grip on Bruce's hand. "Bruce, I can't do this," well, its a little late for that, "it's too much." You're practically sobbing at this point as you feel the foreboding pressure of an oncoming attraction in your uterus.

"Yes, you can." Bruce is sitting in a chair right next to your bed, the guardrail down while he has one arm around your shoulders and his free hand being crushed by your grip. "I'm right here. You've already made it this far, sweetheart."

And, for a moment, you almost believe him. Until another contraction comes rattling through your body, this one far stronger than the rest you've experienced. "I cant, I can't, I can't, I can't." Is all you can cry out in utter agony, your knuckles turned white as you grip Bruce's hand.

"Do you have any idea how close you are to being done?" He asks as he gently rubs your shoulder, trying not to show just how painful your grip on his hand is. "Five more minutes, alright? Five more minutes of suffering for a lifetime of happiness. Do you think you can handle that for me, sweetheart?"

And, despite your body feeling like its burning and being torn in half, you nod. In what feels like mere moments later, the sound of shrilling cries fill the delivery room. Bruce swears it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who, for the first time in literal years, cries while holding your infant. His face is red, cheeks are tear-stained, and his beautiful blue eyes are puffy and watery: the same beautiful blue eyes that your baby has.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who is pampering you in affection and attention for the entire time you're in the hospital. Every single craving you've had but couldn't satisfy for the past nine months, he already has brought to you in bed.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who, when the baby is taken by nurses for examinations a day or two after the birth, shows you a ring. A beautiful, beautiful ring that fits your left hand perfectly and shimmers in the bright hospital lights. Your engagement ring.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who has a private, simple wedding with you, Alfred, his adoptive children, and your beautiful newborn. The press was too risky to deal with for a public wedding, and Bruce wanted those special moments to just be for your family, not for the media's prying eyes.

OlderHusband! Bruce Wayne who is there for as many milestones as he can be. First steps? He's got the camera. Their first words? "Dada." Their baby teeth coming in? He's already bought those little tooth-shaped containers for when they fall out in a couple of years.

OlderHusband! Bruce Wayne who always knew it was you. You were the best thing to have ever happened in his life, and he refused to mess that up. He knew that, eventually, he would have to tell you about his double life as the Caped Crusader, but he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

-----------------------------

Masterlist

[papayadays]

🎻 102 + Lando please xx

a/n: ahhhh sasha!! ilysm because i was just so inspired for this 😚

102 — night changes by one direction

“does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes?”

you and lando stepped out the packed venue, hands intertwined. as you two made your way in the throng of people, you were stopped by quite a few people who wanted to talk to the driver’s championship runner up. of course, it was expected at the fia end of year gala. you made sure to dress nice for today, wearing a red dress that had been around for a few years, but was one of your favorites. before you had left, lando was dangerously close to ruining all of your makeup, claiming your dress as the cause.

now, as you two walked out into the cool evening air, the night was wrapping up. lando’s fifth season in f1 was wrapping up. you’d been by his side since his first race and you couldn��t be prouder of how far he’d come. all the highs and lows, you’d seen it all. but it still didn’t quite sink in that it had already been five seasons. five years.

you glanced down at your dress, slightly self-conscious. five years you and lando had been dating. but that was a long time to stay with the same person, especially for a global celebrity with countless of people vying for a chance. you couldn’t help but feel like maybe lando would start to get sick of you, or that his feelings for you would fade over time. it was silly, but with all that time, you felt that you were holding him back in a small sense.

“hey, the gala’s over, no need to fuss over your dress,” lando chuckled, pulling you from your thoughts as he lead you to his car. once you two were in the more secluded area of the parking lot, lando grinned, adding, “and plus, you look beautiful in that dress.”

you smiled, getting into the passenger seat as lando started the car. as the car passed by buildings and towns and parks, your eyes stayed fixed on the moon, casting a glow inside the dim car. the windows were down and the breeze tousled your hair as you tried to stop it from flying. but as you reached a red light, lando didn’t think he had seen a more beautiful sight.

your eyes flitted to the moon once more, mind wandering to all the times you had looked at the moon before, thinking of lando. if only you knew how many times he had done the same. you felt lando take your hand in his, giving it a small squeeze. “lan?” you asked.

“yeah?” he responded, eyes still on the road.

“i’ve been thinking, and it’s already your fifth season,” you said softly. “isn’t it crazy just how fast everything changes?”

lando grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. the mere action made you blush despite all the years being with him. “i wouldn’t have it any other way, love,” he murmured. “and we’re not going to change.”

you turned to look at him. “no?”

“no, of course not,” lando replied, so confidently that hope surged in your chest. “even if everything else is changing, me and you won’t. we’ve made it this far - five whole years. and i can’t wait for the next five. and more. y’know why?”

“why?” you asked, playing along.

“because i love you,” lando said simply, and it made your heart flutter.

you squeezed his hand. “i love you too, lan.” with a smile on your lips, you turned your gaze back to the night sky, content.

joyce's birthday bash! 😽

[kokokoula]

drunk confessions

a/n: wow i haven't posted in a long while hahaha thanks for staying :) i'm so burnt out from exams please tolerate me🥲 again, not beta read, my beta reader is busy as heck because of a hellish sch system. also, i wrote all of this at 3am, i hope it's still readable TT (this is obvi in timeskip no underage drinking guys)

---

"i think i love you."

you rest your head on your palm, gazing at him with soft eyes and warm cheeks. you reek of alcohol; tsukishima doesn't seem to care.

the two of you sit by the bar at the far end, where the light jazz music gets faint. he's thinking clearly, only a bit red from a drink or two— or is it something else?— while you're flat out drunk. his eyes widen slightly at your confession, and pauses.

"don't say things you don't mean." tsukishima eventually brushes you off, pushing his glasses further up. despite that, his heart beats a little faster, and he hates it.

you splay out your arms across the countertop, burying your face in them. he takes the last swig of his drink. there is the distant sound of glasses clinking and a cheer.

"tsukki?" his name is a bit slurred as you turn to him again. your hair is in a tangled mess, locks of it falling over your eyes. he resists the urge to tuck them away and behind your ear.

tsukishima nudges your foot: a sign to continue.

"y'know, when i first met you, i thought you were an arrogant, self-centred bastard. i hated you." you state, fiddling with your empty shot glass. wow, and just when he thought things were getting intimate.

"where exactly are you going with this?" he frowns at you.

"we used to bicker about almost everything at school. i can't count how many times yamaguchi had to step in." you giggle, hiccuping at the end. you didn't seem to have heard him but he doesn't mind. he shakes his head, a small smile appearing on his face; you look so cute being lost in your own world.

"remember it was our last class, and it happened to rain that day? you laughed at me because i didn't bring an umbrella." yes, he remembers. tadashi was sick that day, and the both of you ended up getting lectured many times by teachers for your incessant arguments. he almost laughs at the thought of it.

"i didn't expect to find your umbrella in my shoe locker after you left, though. you said you had an extra when i confronted you about it but yamaguchi already told me you had returned home drenched." tsukishima's face starts to burn. shit, being reminded of how down bad he was—and still is— is embarrassing. he wishes he was much cooler about it.

"i couldn't accept that you were capable of being nice, let alone to me..." it's even more so because of you.

"...till i realised you're nothing like what i thought you were. you admit your own faults, are too hard on yourself, and incredibly encouraging of your friends in your own complicated way. hell, even to hinata and kageyama!" you're sitting upright now, your hands making exaggerated movements as you talk. you take a deep breath in.

"it's your fault that i can't stop thinking about you, and that i get so sickeningly happy when i see you. so shuddup, i do mean it when i said i think, no wait, i know i love you." you rebuke him, pointing your finger at him like an angry child.

you have done it. you've lit his face on fire with your words. he can't tear his eyes away from your piercing gaze.

tsukishima isn't the most affectionate person, but maybe it's the late hour, or the influence of the alcohol, because he reaches over to caress the back of your head and bring you closer to him. his lips softly presses against your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds before pulling away. he sees your eyes sparkle.

since kei believes actions speak louder than words, he hopes you know that this, everything, means something.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT helping a partner with trauma

Requested? Yes! (and they are still open!)

Genre: comfort

TW/CW: Implications of trauma

A/N: This will be less of a discussion about traumatic events themselves (if mentioned it’s brief only to give context), but rather the feelings and responses one might have afterwards. Trauma is varied and so is everyone's reactions to it, so I tried to include a variety of scenarios so there’s a little bit of something for everyone. 

A/N #2/Warning: Please use caution when reading if you might find the topic triggering. This is meant to be comforting, but if you find that it isn’t, come back later or skip altogether. 

Seungcheol

Money is an interesting topic between the two of you. At first, he thinks that you just like to keep a tight control over your finances, and he respects it immensely, applauding you for being money-smart. But he notices that you deny yourself a lot of things in an effort to penny pinch, and flat out refuse when he offers to ease your burden on little things like needing to replace something around your apartment or pay a bill that has an upcoming due date. In a vulnerable moment, you tell him the abbreviated version of the story - you depended on someone financially and then they left you with nothing, and you refuse to be stuck in that situation again. From then on he encourages your financial independence and for the most part respects your wishes for him to not spend a lot on you, even if it pains him sometimes. But you best believe the moment you accept it he’s already sliding you his card or heading to the store himself. Wants you to know that you can rely on him, but knows he has to earn that. 

Jeonghan 

You’re a flirt. It’s one of the things that he loves most about you. He's kissed you a few times since starting to date, but he notices how you pull back sooner rather than later, putting space between the two of you. You feel safer with words than you do with touch. He’s okay with that. If you ever try to explain yourself - doesn’t matter if it's a simple ‘I want to wait’, or a more detailed reason - he’ll shake his head. “You come to me if and when you're ready,” he’ll say simply without an ounce of teasing. I do believe that if and when you do approach him, he’ll want to have a not-so-sexy but still very needed conversation to make sure you’re both on the same page and he understands your boundaries. 

Joshua

On the very first date, you tell him you don't drink and don’t really like to be around alcohol. Noted, he thinks, and doesn't order another drink beyond the one he already has in front of him. He also doesn’t have a problem not keeping it at home. However, there’s a social element to drinking that is sometimes unavoidable. He sticks to non-alcoholic drinks with you when you have to go to these events and takes you home before anyone you’re with can be too far gone. You’ll tell him that he can have a drink if he wants and that he doesn't need your permission - but he's supposed to be the one that makes you feel safest, so he’ll shrug it off. He doesn’t miss it. 

Jun 

Absolutely respects your work ethic and even admires it. But sometimes he’s concerned by how you always go in early and stay late, take on way too many responsibilities, and never, ever take a sick day or vacation. When he asks you about it, you simply say that you can’t lose this job. He can sympathize because it would be devastating to not be able to do what he does for a living, but he recognizes that it’s not passion, but rather fear, that drives you to overwork yourself. Does little things like driving you to work so you show up on time rather than super early, or making plans right after work so you can’t stay late. He’ll also book a vacation to somewhere that you just can't refuse. Anything to encourage rest, really. 

Hoshi 

Bless his heart, but he's trying to be funny. He hears you come in and hides behind a door, jumping out at you when you enter the room. Does not expect for you to cry and panic, and cries and panics himself, profusely apologizing. Once you both are calm, he doesn't press for details, accepting your explanation that someone that used to be in your life used to do that sort of thing, but that it wasn't all fun and games. Will never, ever be doing that again, and if you're ever around his group members and they get a bright idea, expect that he'll put a stop to it before it even starts. 

Wonwoo

You’ve lost someone close to you. Whether it was a shock or not, whether you were there or not, doesn’t matter. He’s sympathetic to the trauma of losing someone and knows there isn’t a ton he can do to fix it. But he’ll do the little things. He’ll make sure you eat, even if it’s a little and even if he needs to feed you. He’ll make sure you shower, even if he has to get in and wash your hair for you. He’ll make sure you find a balance between sleep and activity, even if he has to gently drag you outside for some fresh air or carry you to bed himself. Also knows you can't really acknowledge any of it right now, but he’ll keep doing it anyway. 

Woozi

You guys don't fight, well, ever. You both are too laid back. But something big happens and you both have had bad days. Jihoon’s not proud when he loses his temper a bit, shouting. Immediately does not like how you fold into yourself and back away. You’ve confided in him before that your home life involved a lot of arguing growing up. He kind of feels like he’s looking at a kid version of you in the past and it makes him feel nauseous. He takes a deep breath, apologizes, and says that you both should cool down. Later that night, you two sit on the couch, talk it out, and promise to call a timeout next time one of you gets upset. Will absolutely never raise his voice at you again.

DK 

He checks your phone for something, not trying to be invasive, but because you had something he needed. He accidentally stumbles across quite a few reminders that you're way overdue for a check up at the doctor’s office. He apologizes that he was accidentally nosy, but asks if you’ve been able to schedule it yet. He can tell that you’re uncomfortable, bordering on scared at the mention of it. You’ve told him before that you were sick as a child and spent a not-so-insignificant time in the hospital and have since then hated clinical settings. So, so understanding, but also so, so insistent that you should take care of yourself. He’ll take off work in a heartbeat to go with you and hold your hand if it will help. 

Mingyu 

You both are working on a grocery list and you ask him to add another case of bottled water. He looks at you quizzically because you already have an untouched case in the closet and the fridge is stocked. You pause, frowning. “But what if we run out?” You’ll say in a small, worried voice. He knows you’ve lived through a natural disaster or two before you moved here. You don't talk about it much, but he’s seen clips on TV before about what that can be like. He nods. “You’re right. I’ll get another one.” He gets two. That closet will never be empty if it makes you feel better. 

Minghao

You’re getting repeated phone calls from a random number. When you tell him this, at first, he nods, kind of shrugging it off. Spam calls happen all the time. (God only knows I get like ten a day from telemarketers.) Still, he watches your anxiety spike every time it happens and gently presses for a bit of an explanation. You tell him shortly that you’ve gotten harassing phone calls in the past and have had to change numbers a time or two because of it. From that point forward, if he's with you and your phone rings from an unknown number, he's holding his hand out expectantly. Doesn't matter if it’s a telemarketer or not. Will always answer the phone for you or simply get you a new number until you’re comfortable. 

Seungkwan

Listen, I think he's ready to fight any day. He’s kind of surprised when you ask if he wants to meet your parents and especially surprised at how anxious you are about it. He sees why immediately because they aren’t nice people. Tolerates very few negative or demeaning comments directed at you and certainly won't tolerate any displays of violence, so I expect this to be a short visit ending with him deciding it’s time to go. Also won’t accept any apology from you for how they behaved and after some consideration will encourage you to limit contact. 

Vernon

When you tell him early on that you don’t drive, he just shrugs. He’ll take the bus or walk with you any day. But one night, you guys have gone out. When you walk out to go home, you realize it’s raining and that you’ve missed the last bus. Vernon shrugs, saying he’ll just call an uber or taxi. You panic and he’s kind of surprised. Still, he puts his phone back up and waits for the rain to stop with you before walking home. You tell him you got into a car accident years ago and your injuries were minor, but you still don't like driving or riding in cars. You say it’s one of the reasons you live where you do, so you can just walk everywhere. Will always stick by you no matter what mode of transportation you choose. 

Chan 

You express that you don't like your new job and he’s surprised, mostly because you were so excited to start it. You tell him your coworkers are kind of cliquey, and you don't feel like you fit in. He understands, telling you that they don't have to be your friends as you can work with them. Still, you tell him you can handle a bit of rejection, but you're afraid that they might become mean or hostile, like the catty women in the last place you worked. He encourages you to focus on work for now and feel out the situation for a little bit longer. It’s not the end of the world if it doesn't work out because you still have him. Cheesy, I know, but it does make you feel better. 

[paulyenvol6]

Called to the Devil (Chapter 4)

Contains: mentions of smut, flirting, sexual tension

Wordcount: ~2.24k

Masterlist of this story

A good time they indeed had.

Arika and Elayne laughed together and drank and she liked the hand's daughter more and more. She still widened her eyes at her lose tongue at times but it seemed as though Arika was able to relax the more time she spent with Elayne.

Still, her attention was drawn to Daemon many times because he just looked too handsome. Tonight he wore a black jacket with a high collar and intricate silver clasps running down the front. Elayne had to force herself not to look at him for too long and just hoped that Arika didn't notice her interest in the king's brother.

A little later Elayne felt the wish to dance so the next person who asked her she didn't refuse. There had been countless suiters who wanted to spend time with the young Baratheon girl because she was from a noble house and of a marriagable age. But this far she had apologized to each lord because she rather had wanted to spend her time with Arika but now, as young Hectar Lefford had approached, Elayne agreed.

It wasn't even about Lord Hectar, she just loved dancing and got lost in the soft tones as she rocked her head in rhythm to the music. Not long after Elayne had enough though because Lord Hectar only showered her with compliments about her beauty and she grew tired of it. So she excused herself and flitted off the dance floor to search for Arika.

But to her surprise she wasn't where she had left her behind and Elayne's eyes wandered over the feast. She frowned and then decided to search the garden. Perhaps she had desired a moment away from the loud noises and craved some fresh air.

So she left the celebrations and made her way through the gate and then out among the bright stars. But Elayne couldn't find her friend here either. She was just about to turn around when she heard a noise next to her. She turned around and twitched in surprise when she saw Daemon in front of her. He seeminly hadn't expected to see her here as well because he lifted his eyebrows.

"You.", he just scoffed and Elayne squeezed her eyes.

"Have you seen my friend?", she asked because she didn't come up with a better reply.

"Your friend?"

"Arika. The hand's daughter."

Daemon chuckled. "So you found yourself a little pet already."

Elayne hummed angrily. "She's not my pet, she's my friend. Have you seen her?" The prince thoughtfully put his finger to his mouth.

"I think your little puppy has overestimated herself a little. I saw her father dragging her out of the hall and she didn't look like she was able to stand on her two feet by herself."

Elayne growled and dropped her gaze.

"You put on quite a show back there, didn't you?", Daemon suddenly spoke quietly and she looked up to him at once.

"What do you mean?"

The prince smirked crookedly. "On the dancefloor. Your hair thrown back, eyes closed."

Elayne bit her lip and raised her chin. "Did you like what you saw?"

"Not one bit.", he said, emphasizing every word and her face got cold which made Daemon chuckle. But still she glanced up to him and the desire in her eyes was clearly visible to the prince.

"I liked what I saw.", Elayne breathed and pleadingly looked up to him.

She closed the gap between them until she could feel his chest against her but Daemon continued to look at her smugly.

"I bet I can make you change your mind.", the girl whispered. "I know I can."

"Mhmm, you think so.", Daemon hummed and Elayne's eyes brightened up.

"Yes. Yes, I can. I know how to do it, Daemon."

He chuckled in response and watched the air entering and leaving her mouth rapidly.

"Get on your knees then.", he hissed and she smiled widely.

Elayne almost fell to her knees and stared up to him expectantly and her eyes were big with anticipation. She wanted to open his pants but Daemon softly slapped the back of her hands and started to unlace them himself.

"Close your eyes.", he whispered darkly in the meantime and she obeyed.

She waited. Waited for him to say that she should open them again. Or to feel his tip entering her mouth but none of it happened. And then Elayne just had to open her eyes because she didn't know why he kept her waiting for so long but as soon as her eyes sprang open she felt confused. He was gone. Had it merely been a dream? No, that wasn't possible.

Now anger and patheticness filled her senses. How could he do this? Leaving her here alone kneeling in the garden. Quickly she stood up and looked around to see if someone was there but luckily she was alone. 'What an arsehole.', Elayne thought and grinded her teeth. She felt disgraceful right now and wished all of this hadn't happened.

Why did she always embarrass herself in front of him like that? Dropping to her knees and then not even noticing that he had left her. He probably had laughed to himself afterwards, seeing her on the stoney ground waiting for him to shove his cock inside of her mouth. Elanye squinted her eyes and tried to keep her head as high as possible as she walked back into the keep.

She didn't see Daemon for the rest of the night and wondered if he had gone to his chambers. And yet she was glad about his absence because being confronted with him right now would have been too shameful even for the confident girl.

Elayne was happy when she found herself in the safety of her chambers and exhaled loudly. That had been a rather eventful night and she had grown tired. And that's why she sleep overcame her as soon as her head hit the pillow and even her chaotic and relentless thoughts about the rogue prince didn't stand a chance against the sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Elayne also didn't see Daemon during her quick breakfast the next day. It almost seemed like the floor had swallowed him and she thoughtfully nibbled at the apple in her hand.

The other members of her family noticed that she acted differently to when she had just arrived at the keep and didn't really know how to deal with it. On one hand they cared about the girl and were worried that something was bothering her but on the other hand they were relieved that Elayne was finally a little more calm and well-behaved at last.

So no one dared asking her about her pensive mood and everyone just ate their breakfast while glancing at Elayne every now and then. She didn't notice any of these gazes though and fully ignored the people around her. After she was done with her breakfast Elayne left the room to fulfil her obligations for the day.

It was a Wednesday which meant that she got to spend her morning as she wished so Elayne decided to walk down to the beach where she threw little rocks into the ocean while singing songs of her childhood. She knew that her companions in court didn't wish for her to leave the safety of the keep, but she didn't care. Sometimes she just had to see something else than the walls and corridors that always looked the same. She came here to smell the salty air and hear the peaceful sound of the waves crashing against the rocks.

But soon Elayne had to make her way back to the red keep because in the afternoon she had to attend her lessons with her septa which was why she found herself in the library only a few minutes late.

"That's not a fine behaviour for a lady.", Ysa commented it with lifted eyebrows and Elayne smiled apologetic.

"Well… I'm here to become a lady, right…?", she tried and the septa rolled her eyes but looked a little amused.

The next hours turned out to be both exhausting and boring and Elayne tried not to yawn too often and especially not do it open-mouthed. Ysa taught her about history, mathematics and biology and soon her head was throbbing. She really did try, to be honest. Not because she was eager to learn about these things but because she liked her septa. She had been one of the nicest persons and Elayne didn't feel the desire to make this woman's life hell.

But still, in the end she couldn't hide her annoyance anymore and was leaning back in her chair when Ysa announced that the lesson was finished. She jumped up at these words and just wanted to turn around and leave this horrible place when her septa made her stop.

"Be so kind, child and bring this book to Prince Daemon. He wished to borrow it last week but I wasn't done with the sorting so I promised to have it brought to him next week."

Elayne frowned. "Fine.", she mumbled and intended to take the book but Ysa held on to it.

"Elayne.", she said demanding and of course she understood what she had done wrong. She swiftly straightened up and cleared her throat.

"Of course, septa Ysa."

Her voice was dripping with sarcasm but luckily her septa didn't notice it so she smiled contendly and let her take the book. "Thank you, child."

Elayne couldn't stop herself from walking extra loud as she approached the prince's chambers. Of course did she have to bring this to Daemon from all people. As if she was his servant. She didn't even know whether she wished to find him in his chambers because on one hand she feared the humiliation and didn't yearn for the smug look on his face but on the other hand… Elayne merely craved him and his presence. Her lust for him hadn't vanished after last night though part of her wished that it had.

But when she opened the door and peeked into the room nobody was there. So Elayne quietly hasted into the prince's chambers and dropped the heavy book on the table in the middle of the room. She exhaled, rested her hands on her hips and then looked around one last time before she attempted to leave but she suddenly heard steps and then a voice cut through the air.

"What are you doing in here again?"

Elayne swiftly spinned around only to stare into Daemon's flashing eyes. He examined her with amusement, clearly thinking that she had come here to try and seduce him once more.

"Septa Ysa told me to bring this book into your chambers.", she explained while pointing to the table. But the prince didn't believe her and squinted his eyes.

"The septa told you… Since when do you do what you're told?"

Elayne rolled her eyes and Daemon sensed her sulkiness. She avoided his gaze and also didn't answer him so he took a step towards her. The girl immediately let her eyes wander over his face in order to figure out whether he was mocking her or flirting with her.

"You arsehole.", she spitted and Daemon smirked as a reply. "You left me alone in the gardens."

The prince sighed and watched her pitiful. "I didn't expect you to be the kind of person to feel humiliated. You know… just generally."

Elayne clearly wasn't satisfied with his answer and grinded her teeth.

"Fuck you. I wanted to do you a favor."

Now Daemon laughed out, it was a quiet and deep sound. "You wanted to do me a favor? I think it was you who has been begging for me to fuck your mouth ever since you arrived here. I could walk down into the city and within 5 minutes I would have a dozen willing whores at my mercy. The only difference is that you'd do it for free."

Elayne's eyes were glistening with anger but to her shame she could also feel this pulsating heat between her legs. But she just ignored it, Daemon couldn't notice it anyways. She was looking for an answer but felt too dizzy to come up with something and the prince laughed about her.

"Oh sweet girl. I think you're overestimating yourself a little."

Elayne's cheeks turned red as her nostrils flustered and she took yet another step forwards. She was now close with her face to his neck and Daemon turned his head to look down at her.

"You're an arrogant ignorant idiot.", she hissed. "No wonder your wife has fled your company."

"Careful, little one. Don't get too comfortable with your words.", he purred and let his thumb run over her jaw. She slightly smiled and bit her lips.

"I'm not gonna let you command me what to say. You don't have any power or saying over me."

Her voice was merely a whisper and if her words had made him angry, Daemon didn't show any sign of it. He rather looked amused and didn't pull away when the girl got even closer with her face.

"Oh I think I do have a certain power over you. I think I could make you drop to your knees know if I wanted you to.", he whispered and Elayne felt her breathing fastening.

"I think not.", she answered. "I think you had your chance."

Daemon chuckled at that and playfully nibbled at his lower lip. "Mhm... What a shame I missed it."

[cosmicalily]

cosmic drabbles - 'lover's rock', han jisung x reader

author's note: hello my loves! it has been far too long since i showed up on here. to be honest, i've just had zero motivation and also i've been in the middle of exam season, which is absolutely hectic. i've also got this perfectionist complex where if a story isn't amazingly written or the best work i've done, i won't post it, which consequently means i have tons of drafts! but this one is one of my favourites, and whilst it's unedited and short, it holds a special place in my heart. enjoy x

listen to: 'lover's rock' by tv girl

“Who brings a whole ass guitar to a party?” you giggled, resting your head against the door to your room. The boy glanced over, unfazed, his eyes glossy. 

“Who the fuck ditches her own birthday party to go up and paint?” he quipped in response, gesturing at the mess of gouache and paper that littered your desk. You blinked in surprise, walking into your bedroom with your arms crossed. 

He offered you a small smile, patting the spot beside him on the carpet as if it was his bedroom. You sat down beside him, leaning into the side of your bed frame. The steel was cold and uncomfortable on your bare back, but it felt soothing. Everything felt so hot and stuffy downstairs, too many people sharing the same air. You’d wanted a break, but just hadn’t kept track of how long it had gone. It didn’t matter. The people downstairs didn’t seem to notice your lack of presence.

“I’m actually not sure why I ended up here,” Jisung admitted, looking around your bedroom. “Your bedroom, I mean. I came with Minho.”

“I know,” you replied. “You’re his best friend. Although you’re literally never at school. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He nodded. “I don’t like it,” he said simply, and opened his mouth as if to further comment, but decided against it.

“Fair enough. Me neither,” you agreed. You took a sip from your can and handed it to him, and he smiled in thanks.

“So,” you looked down at his guitar. “You play, I’m assuming?”

“Fuck yeah I do, it’s pretty much all I do.”

“You must get a lot of time, considering you’re not at school.”

“Yup. Might as well use it.”

He rifled around in his pocket for a pick and began playing, a very soft tune. Slow, but intentional. You leaned your head against his shoulder, half out of tipsiness, half out of consciousness. He didn’t tense or move or stop playing. 

“Lover’s Rock,” you murmured, and his eyes shone in excitement.

He started to sing, very gently, and you joined him. His head rested on top of yours, the vibrations of his throat warm and fuzzy against your cheek.

Minho poked his head through the door, eyes squinted, then smiled. 

Neither of you noticed that he was there.

“Wait, I have ‘French Exit’ on vinyl,” you mumbled when Jisung finished, leaning over him to reach for your record player. Jisung looked up at you, eyes sparkling, and your cheeks flushed. You pulled your hand back from your vinyl collection and placed it on his shoulder, pressing your foreheads together.

“Now, how many men have you kissed?” Jisung whispered.

“Very few,” you giggled, playing along.

“But you offered me a kiss, why?” 

“Such a foolish reason, I’m afraid,” you sighed, shifting yourself onto his lap. “I just wanted to kiss you.”

He beamed, his smile heart-shaped, and you leaned in, pressing your lips against his, gently, softly.

[wearesorcerer]

But as I am not a Brit and do not commit drive-by argument -- or rather, since I started this, I'm going to continue it. Mwahahaha. Cut for length.

That would check out if we didn't roll for stats (you're a kitty cat? then you get Dexterity 16, no variations), or if everyone in the world rolled for stats, PCs and NPCs and monsters (so the +2 to the Dexterity of all kitty cats will result in statistically more dexterous kitty cats in comparison to, say, orcs in the general population of the campaign setting).

Although I do kinda see the appeal of the first one as far as stat generation goes, the second one is spurious: the only reason we don't roll for stats for everyone is because it's too time consuming on a DM's part to stat every single NPC as an individual. It's something that has gradually been phased out: in OD&D, BECMI, and at least AD&D 1e (possibly 2e), you did roll each creature's HD to determine HP -- and in many cases they didn't have ability scores listed, which makes me wonder if those just didn't exist for them (they were only their combat block) or if you rolled for those, as well. (My experience with editions before 3rd is too incomplete for me to know one way or the other, which I find to be a failure on my part.)

For the longest time, rolling stats was presented as an option for minor NPCs (and there was a whole stat array in older DMGs for semi-randomized stats for NPC adventurer-types by class to meet in the middle).

We roll PCs that way because, originally, they weren't guaranteed to be heroic in stature: it gave a way of potentially representing anyone. (This is also no doubt the origin of the Prime Requisite: you had to be this tall [have a stat this high] to enter [take the class] and you got a bonus to XP if you were so much over that threshold because the stats didn't give bonuses and penalties as frequently as they have since 3rd edition.) Or, at least, we did: I've found that dice rolling is the least preferred method of character generation in 5e both in presentation and in play. Mostly, we use the "Standard Array" (Elite Array in 3.x; standard was 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8) or a point buy setup that is meant to generate the same results and utilizes the same caps (8 - 15).

I'ma split things up a bit for your next paragraph.

If you get a +2 to Dexterity from your species, the combination of what you rolled and where you're assigning each roll could still result in a clumsy, Dex 6 kitty cat. (Which should not be impossible! Not all kitty cats are the same! And even if a tiny minority of them are clumsy, people are allowed to be special, and adventurers are expected to be special.) So if the stat adjustment from your species doesn't guarantee you'll end up in the average of your species, what's even its point? It has no point, if you ask me.

That literally is the point.

The best example I saw of this was Baggi the Half-Orc Barbarian, a character a friend of mine played in undergrad. Baggi had an Int of 3. Since I was taking a linguistics course at the time, I had found out that animals like chimps (in 3.x, capped at Int 2) had vocabularies of about 300 words and related this to Baggi's player, which she used as guideline's for Baggi's speech: she knew some words in Common and some in Orc. Even though her Wisdom was decent, she had to be directed a lot and caused problems for the party -- realistic ones, as the player in question had worked with mentally disabled people (especially kids) long enough to pull this off.

And everyone loved it. Baggi was the most memorable of the characters in that particular campaign. The incidents other players got into were memorable, but Baggi was by far the most interesting and memorable purely as a character.

(I'll come back to racial Int penalties, which is where this whole thing started, later.)

Raistlin Majere's notoriously poor Constitution also comes to mind. He managed to work in setting despite his frailty, frequently as a plot point. Hell, my first "Rogue" (it wasn't a Rogue, but it pretended to be one) had a Strength and Con of 3 and 4 (no, I don't remember which was which).

I can't think of an instance where a character has used a racial bonus to offset an extremely low roll, but it's not an outlandish idea. Hell, it's fairly strategic: if you roll well on most stats but have one that's really low, matching it with your racial bonus aids in the extreme. I've done it numerous times with low but not horrible rolls.

I hatehatehate this notion that you have to have high stats to work in the game. Perhaps adventurers need high stats to survive, realistically speaking. Perhaps they don't: people with disabilities have lived and even thrived in communities of humans since there were humans. There's a wheelchair user in the middle of splash art in the new PHB! (Doing nothing but posing in a situation-inappropriate accommodation, I might add: it's clear the character is probably an Artificer, despite that class not appearing in the book, and yet the chair doesn't have mechanical legs or a levitation device or whatever.)

But of course that's how 5e works: there are no racial penalties and the preferred methods of stat generation aren't rolling dice, but choosing an array or point buy, neither of which can give you a stat below 8 (and now nothing higher than 15, so whatever).

I've seen people talk about removing the abilities altogether since at least 3rd and more often now because they're not really used and no one has a low score. I think that's a shame, as having meaningful drawbacks that come up a lot is a great source of characterization. But I've said that already.

That's the logic which gave women a strength penalty in older editions.

The notorious Strength cap for women in 1st edition AD&D isn't the same logic at all. It flat out ignored that the different races didn't necessarily have the same underlying biology, for one, since caps applied to all races, and had nothing to do with stereotype. Which we're getting to.

(Next couple of paragraphs were continuation of the same thoughts I've already discussed. Moving further.)

Benefits: pick a +2 and a +1 stat boost OR or 3 +1 stat boosts, an origin feat, two skill proficiencies, and one tool proficiency, take 50 gold, off you go. Isn't that liberating?

I like that idea in practice, but y'know what that is? The same thing as giving each character a non-class progression with a bonus feat at 1st level and every level divisible by X (3 in 3.x, 4 in 5e) and assigning points or whatnot to skills. Like in 3rd edition. Which the backgrounds wanted to avoid by being packages and giving RP advice.

But more importantly, those bonuses? That's already represented in game by assigning your ability scores to fit your class. You are a Rogue with a high Dex because of backstory reasons, which is why you assigned your high roll to Dex. I'm not against the notion of class (or background) giving you ability boosts also so as to mitigate the problem of insufficiency in the stat generation mechanics, but taking it away from something that also has justification (biology) and has more justification to be static than upbringing doesn't make sense.

I'm not going to belabor the issues of racism in D&D. They are manifold and beside the point. But I will point this out: the logic behind having races give ability score bonuses is the same logic as having races provide racial features. It's biological determinism. And having an elf get +2 Dex fits with how elves work, whereas having your background give you +2 Dex is just "hey, I have more points from my point buy!" But I said that already.

As things currently stand (2024), race accounts for your size (almost always Medium, with being Small not mattering all that much), speed (pretty much 30), aging rate (purely cosmetic), whether or not you have Darkvision or resistance to something (which you can and will get, either outright or an equivalent thereof, via items), and something analogous to an origin feat that doesn't quite match (Elf Lineage vs. Magic Initiate, Halfling Luck vs. Lucky, etc.). Or, to go down to what's left that separates one from the next, a not-quite-feat and cosmetics. That's not just boring, that's irrelevant. And as far as biology goes, it's unrealistic. 5e had already downgraded so many races to a point like this already; now it's an extra step in character creation that exists because LotR had a fandom. It's to the point that the leading game in a genre that works really well for xenofiction cannot actually do xenofiction anymore: approaching racial personality traits gets questionable very quickly and biology seldom matters. At least the racial bonuses (and penalties!) made your choice of race material.

Undecided about D&D 5.5 and the 2024 rules

Pros:

Weapon Mastery

Cunning Strike

stat boosts and skills moving from Species to Backgrounds

the PHB rules glossary and the DMG toolkit (for ease of use)

origin feats, and general feats giving +1 to a stat

easier to homebrew player-facing rules (because feats and subclasses are more streamlined)

some big changes, some minor tweaks

Cons:

power creep (full assessment pending until the MM comes out)

uneven power creep

stealth makes no sense

they fully bailed on the skill system

strains suspension of disbelief even more

less support for homebrewed monsters

some big changes, some minor tweaks

The CR system needs playtesting with the new Monster Manual, so assessment pending. We're probably gonna see much more dangerous monsters: Cure Wounds straight up doubled the hp it heals, and healing in general is a lot more generous. I don't know if that bloat was necessary, or motivated by anything other than "players can do MOAR damage now, buy our new books to be COOLER!", followed by a domino effect.

At this point, I'm torn between incorporating a few 5.5 rules to 5e, or a few 5e rules to 5.5, or whole other subsystems to either (I'm looking at the skill system of Level Up a.k.a. Advanced 5th Edition, it's interesting), or abandoning D&D altogether (because I'm tired, not because it's that bad). But I'm pretty sure I won't adopt 5.5 as is.

Assessment pending.

[moonscape]

isat: explores the concept of found family outside of the expected nuclear family dynamic. goes even further by being explicitly against the idea of a found family always being nuclear, and shows this by having the characters cringe and express discomfort at the idea of being assigned specific roles. wants you to accept its found family being an amorphous blob

isat fans who don't understand themes outside of fandomized incorrect quote blogs: okay but what if odile was the mom friend and the rest of the group are her kids

[phagodyke]

the masculine urge to take a saucepan off thr draining board and bash myself repeatedly over the head with it until I pass out and no longer have to experience feeling Bad 😍

[waterfallofspace]

Welp- I have done my first (incredibly rough/awful) digital drawing/animation and despite the uh, rough quality, to be kind, I'm dropping it under the cut~~

(set your expectations LOW please haha <33)

Tadaaa~ my first awful attempt at digital art/animation!

Why am I posting something I fully know isn't good? Well, to be honest, I always see AMAZING artists on here, and personally I love when you can see that when someone started, they weren't nearly as good as they are now! So if one day I ever get better, I like the idea that my starting point is on here~

Orrrr maybe I just haven't slept in over 24 hours and I'm out of my mind. Either could be the case <3333

[puck-the-devil]

"How is it you're thinking of Shinichi Kudo and yet you call him by his English name, 'Jimmy'? Anyway, if you don't recognize Tsukumoya, then nevermind. I know what you were intending to illustrate. My point is that I know that what I believe is the truth doesn't necessarily mean it is aligned with the truth of reality - something that is subject to change at any time. I'm not presuming or pretending to be perfect or infallible simply because I can't tell a lie."

"So the real trouble here is that you don't define a lie as the same thing that we Fae do. In the human dictionary, it's known as 'intentionally giving a false statement'. By Fae standards, lies are 'actually uttering falsehoods' as you put it. To us, just because you don't tell the truth doesn't automatically mean you're lying or make you a liar. So by our definition - unlike yours, it seems - there is no straightforward way to lie without actually intentionally speaking something one believes to be untrue. Does that make sense? To you, it sounds as though being dishonest or deceitful in any way may be considered the same thing as lying. To us, they are technically and literally completely separate things. While we can do the former, we are incapable of doing the latter." He sighed. "Fae - and most demons, I thought - are actually very particular about wording and things like names. Words and names hold power, especially for beings like us who can be summoned with the right utterance of them, who can use them to manipulate magic, and who can be bound by them. So if you go around saying things like 'everyone's secrets are lies by omission and therefore everyone is a liar because everyone has secrets', you start to not make sense; to sound like a madman. Deals, contracts, favors - things of that nature done with Fae and demons are very literal and technical with words, so to say that one can lie by omission will really mess you up when it comes to trying to figure out the logic of our kind."

"I'm not trying to lead you in circles or invite you to expect so little of me. I'm merely attempting to warn you about being so general about things that we have to follow to the letter because that can be the difference between freedom or slavery for us. Or even the difference between life and death."

The fairy slapped a hand to his face before sliding it downward. "Yes, I know humans and demons can lie without having to be clever. What about it? Actually, there's a human I know who detests lies for that very reason and refuses to use them because of that. He values intelligence and cleverness and thus thinks lies are far too easy to tell, so he tries to utilize the same techniques that us Fae do in order to avoid telling the truth. I wonder what you'd think of him..."

"Ah ah ah! My full statement was that I believe you're overlooking that friends are not something immortals have. It's important to take the full phrase in context. However, I didn't mention which immortals. Like you said, there are many implications there; one of which is that I am one of said immortals, but it was not explicitly stated. And, yes, as you mentioned yourself, the definition of 'having' a friend was also not explicitly stated. So there are many ways that statement can be considered true without being true specifically in the way that most people - especially humans - would assume it to be." Puck spread his arms. "Therefore, as you helped me point out, I can be deceitful while at the same time being honest. And, therefore, I can still avoid outright lying. So do you see now why simply being deceitful or withholding information does not equate to lying? At least in the eyes of the Fae and in the rules that bind our kind?"

"To start with, the name is evoking Jimmy Kudo from Detective Conan and that just makes me certain wires got crossed... I intended to illustrate that, even at such a hypothetical meta level, whatever magic might tell you the truth is cannot be considered a constant. That you are capable of being mistaken, as well as under-or-overestimating me in this game we're currently playing."

"Moving back to lying by omission and other methods: I do consider everyone liars, but operate on faith until I'm disappointed. You're only reinforcing my point that there's a plethora of ways to lie without actually uttering a falsehood. Are you trying to lead me in circles, or simply inviting me to expect so little of you?"

The game was honestly a bit fun. Fang would start losing track of the moving pieces at some point, though. His short-term memory wasn't that amazing, so he is baiting a stress migraine. The two really were just playing semantics chicken until one of them lashes out or concedes.

"I also stand on no moral high ground about demons lying. I do caution you that the Tanar'ri are unique among outsiders in that, from the most lowly dretch all the way up to demon prince Demogorgon, each of us remembers and acts upon memories (and associated neuroses) of our mortal lives. Now, that statement does ignore the Liveborn- but they too have souls, and I contend that their being living proof of condemned souls driven to destruction choosing to create (for good or ill) makes them just as precious and complex. Point is: demons and humans can tell lies without having to be clever."

"Let's entertain the notion that Robin Goodfellow somehow did not utter a falsehood when he made the sweeping claim that 'friends are not something immortals have': there could be an implied 'the possibility that' from the first thing you posited that I may have overlooked, or it may be that such a broad statement only hasn't been refuted in your inherently narrow experience. Perhaps it's a philosophical nuance about 'have' implying ownership? Can anyone you own really be a friend? It can be as simple as an outright personal refusal to acknowledge any of those attachments as friendship... I also have no way of knowing if there's exceptions for misspeaking or other honest mistakes. Did you take any of this for granted? Do you seriously just believe everything you're able to say?"

[catboii]

← Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 → Full Thread

[Day ####]

It’s been several days since there were any markable concerns. No breaches, no alerts, no deaths on the clock... Everything has been running smoothly. As it should. 

The Overseer of the current area leads their Agents through the corridors, writing up directives for the daily observations and handing them to the respective Agent.

The Anomalies here are usually very quiet, although sometimes, one of them will just sort of- change… Wake up… And then they completely flip. You can’t trust them. Sometimes Agents have underestimated what seemed like a normal inanimate object, like the hairbrush that hypnotises people, pulling them with psychic tendrils into its room, so that they'll brush their hair with it, then two weeks later they'll wake up from a coma; or a small animal, like the mouse that turned out to eat concrete and burrowed out by nibbling around the steel reinforcements before anyone noticed. There was so much paperwork...

Most of the chambers look the same, bland, metallic grey inside and out, the only difference being the cautionary and instructional stickers of varying sizes, shapes and colours, on the corridor-side of their doors. Some have more than others, and some seem to tell a story. 'No eye contact', 'No turning your back', 'No auditory interaction', 'Unconfirmed: Inanimate', etc; the list could be endless as more instructions are being discovered and printed every day, although it's not a fast process as the braille needs to be sized and punched correctly. Whenever something is Suspected, they use a medium sized Yellow sticker, with a dashed border for the colourblind. If something is confirmed, then it’s a larger sized Red sticker with a bold border. There are the occasional smaller, Green stickers, with a wavy line as a border; this makes them look more whimsical and friendly, although doesn’t mean that whatever is being contained is safe, just that the action is ‘safe’, such as 'Safe: Eye contact', 'Safe: Slow movement', 'Safe: Liquid exposure'. As it’s quite difficult to confirm that something truly is ‘safe’, there aren’t as many Green stickers as the others, and they’re easy to peel off, in case something turns out to not actually be safe... There are alot of Yellow stickers through the halls, as it’s all too easy to have an unconfirmed suspicion, rather than to prove that something is safe or not. 

After a few Agents are sent on their assignments, the Overseer leads the remaining toward another bland silver door, with the usual square viewing window and several Yellow stickers: the expected, and potentially obvious instructions when approaching any wild animal, ‘maybe don’t touch or feed this thing, it might bite, but we’re not sure’. There are also some White and, some rarer, Black stickers though. The White stickers are confirmed guidelines, Agents normally call the neat little sections of White stickers Biogs, as they’re a bit like summaries, and you need a better name than ‘what do their Whites say?’ when discussing cases with your peers. The Black stickers, however, are important notes to keep in mind if you have to go into the room. These are always very specific, but usually a little cryptic, as if their info is on a need to know basis. Which it sort of is, as they only get explained to you if you’re the one going in. 

Most Anomalies in this section have the White 'Does not eat' sticker, as they’re inanimate objects (less of an instruction, just an observation that it doesn’t need to be fed, although someone must have tried, to be able to confirm it, which summons amusing images of Agents trying to coax mysterious Diaries or amulets to nibble on some fruit or a raw steak), but this one also has this sticker, and it appears to be some kind of small animal. Trying to peer through the door window, Agent 23 thinks it looks like a crow sitting in the middle of the floor, although there are too many layers of thick, toughened glass to get a clear view from this distance. There also appears to be a large, Red, octagonal sticker ,right beside the White one that looks like the 'Do not approach' instruction, based on the size and shape, but it’s covered by a Black sticker frantically scribbled over with what looks like black sharpie? As if someone was trying to take it back, but didn’t have the right sticker to hand. The white text is still easily readable, and says 'Caution level C-3'. The Caution level 'C' stickers are reserved for the Anomalies that have shown cannibalistic traits, which is a rabbit hole of a definition when you consider that these Anomalies aren’t human, and eating other animals is a perfectly normal carnivore activity… for animals. 

But why would a creature that doesn’t eat, according to that White sticker, show interest in eating other creatures..? 

Moreover, the level is a scale, like 1:1 or 1:10 in scale models. 'C-1' is for creatures that will attack and/or eat other creatures the same size as them, 'C-0.5' would mean creatures half their size, etc. So 'C-3' means that it’s 'shown an interest' in attacking and eating something three times its own size. Which, based on how small it is, doesn’t sound too worrisome. And besides, this must have been observed before it was put into containment...

As the Overseer looks over the paperwork left hooked on the door, a couple of the Agents peer through to the chamber. There are three interlock doors, which seems excessive for such a small creature. Two is perfectly fine for most of the other, larger Anomalies. Besides, the extra door space takes away some of the chamber space, leaving it alot smaller, even if the creature inside isn’t very big itself. There aren’t any perches or furniture inside, nothing for enrichment. There are also two chairs outside the doors, one either side, when there are usually just two. Only one is the metal kind with the little document shelf under the seat though, the other doesn’t look like it belongs here, more like it’d been dragged from somewhere else, possibly a staff room on another floor, since the ones on this floor are cushioned. 

“Alright,” the Overseer starts confidently, “have any of you had any experience with this Anomaly?” Two of the six Agents raise their hands, one being Agent 23, a low level Agent who'd been working at the Facility for three years so far. “Perfect. Now please lower your hand if any of those experiences have been negative in any way, if you have verbally expressed any negative thoughts around this doorway, or if you may have been overheard disciplining another Anomaly or member of staff in this hallway, at all”, they slightly raise their voice at the end, as if to emphasise how important this was. Agent 23 keeps her hand raised, but she couldn’t see why any of the staff would do anything like that; however, the other Agent had already lowered his hand, but Agent 23 wasn’t sure at which point of the statement. The Overseer looks down at the clipboard, ‘uh-huh’s to themself a few times, then hangs it back on the designated hook. “Alright. You may lower your hand now. The rest of you, I trust you have jobs to do, you’re dismissed. Agent 23, I’ll instruct you on your tasks for the next…” they pause, as if thinking, “week. If all goes well”. 

The instructions sound like the usual, to observe the Anomaly through the cameras and the door windows, to record everything on the sheet every hour. Although there are also extra, lined sheets to fill in if the Anomaly tries to communicate. Any sign of intelligence should be recorded. It's been reported to react to the verbal greetings given by the Agents through the intercom, and if someone gets close to the glass, sometimes it seems to be looking toward the door. The Overseer has instructed 23 to actually try to get it to respond this time, however she can. If it looks like it’s reacting to the intercom, to continue talking, to see if it’s just the noise, or if it’s the actual speech it recognises. There are the odd notes in the ‘Guide’ that say that it has been observed to obey basic commands such as ‘step away from the door’, ‘stand still’ and such like. 

All of the initial pages in the observation log seem to have been crudely torn out, then the first intact pages have nothing written on them aside from the first boxes having mention of observations being difficult, due to the Anomaly being ‘outside’. 23 decides this must mean before it was put into containment, and was just being observed; because if it had breached containment, then there would be far more paperwork, and more Red stickers on the door. Breachers normally went to a far more secure floor several stories lower, and had their own guards stationed at every checkpoint. The pages documenting the last month or so are all basically uneventful, and nothing of note jumps out at her. 

As 23 turns on the intercom to read the obligatory greeting statement, there’s a slight electrical crackle-buzz as the speaker turns on, and a red LED indicator light at the bottom lights up. The small, crow-like creature turns its head toward the soft sound, its eyes dull and reflectionless, staring slightly off from the main door camera, as the intercom speaker is about a foot underneath. “Greetings. I’m Agent 23,” she begins, trying to sound casual, though professional, as if she doesn’t feel the least bit silly trying to talk to a bird, who probably doesn’t understand anything she’s saying, “I’ll be observing you today. I’ll be here for-” she briefly flicks her eyes down from the monitor to check her notes, quickly counting the start to finish times in her head, “Six hours. Please go about your business as normal.” She lets go of the intercom button, and it makes that same quiet crackle, then silence resumes. 

The creature keeps staring toward the speaker for a moment, then, as 23 observes as instructed, she thinks it glances up to the main camera, but it keeps turning, openly facing one of the side cameras, just staring toward it for what feels like the longest moment. 23 starts to wonder if it can somehow see her, and that its watching her, so she makes a little waving motion with her hand at the monitor to see if it'll react… But then it turns to face the back wall, away from the three cameras pointing toward it, and stays facing that direction.

The rest of the day is relatively uneventful, another Agent nearby makes a breakthrough when they say they got a recording of an inanimate object moving, and they furiously scribble in their observational notes. 23’s ward just sits there, once or twice taking a few slow steps toward one side of the room, a few hours later going to the other side. 

Once it’s time to finish up, she stands, stretching her arms above her head, making a little squeak noise through her nose as her spine pops, and when she turns toward the intercom, she notices the creature on the camera monitor, looking toward the door. Perhaps it could see her shadow move? She pauses briefly before pressing the intercom, there’s no movement at the buzz this time, not even a twitch. “This is Agent 23. I have concluded today’s observations. I will be returning tomorrow. Thankyou for your cooperation.”

[army-of-bee-assassins]

i have just added a truly irresponsible amount of elementary gifsets to my drafts

[ambreiiigns]

i finished the saw series :)

[planetarytransformation]

so many of the transfems i know spent their time pre-transition performing a kind of lifelong exercise in self-deprivation, the goal of which was to find out exactly how little a person needed to live. they starved themselves, dressed carelessly, shunned friends, and hollowed themselves out so as not to be burdens on anyone but themselves.

i see it now, too, in the girls around me. i'll ask if they want care – a home-cooked meal, relaxed company, sex without the expectation of reciprocation – and they say no, no, thank you, i don't need it; what would you like, what do you want, because in their head they're still doing that awful calculus, still training themselves to disappear in the eyes of the people around them.

i don't think i'd have died without transition – not in the conventional sense, at least – but to take that leap, i had to stop thinking of myself as a human experiment in fuel-efficient living and start nurturing the anemic, atrophied flame of desire in my heart. i had to learn to eat well, to exercise, to style myself beautiful, but harder than that, i had to learn to ask the people around me to work on my behalf in order to enrich my life and give me the things i wanted.

and i did it; i learned. and it was agony, but courage is a muscle you can train, and every day i get better at accepting gifts with the hungry gratitude i never learned in my years and years as a sad, scared, lonely boy.

so be patient with the trans girls in your life. better than that: be proactive, attentive, generous; be forceful, if you have to, and learn to distinguish real discomfort from the terrified reflex of self-denial that so many of us once learned to rely on.

and if you are so lucky as to love a trans girl, you must insist upon her. you must insist upon her happiness, her comfort, her pleasure, and her rest, because she may still not yet know how to make those demands for herself. if you can devote any amount of energy to becoming an engine that nurtures the flame of even a single tgirl then there is a place for you in trans heaven, which as far as i'm concerned is the only one worth going to