#I will turn anything into a social experiment

[summertimesadnessirl]

This is astroturfing.

Your 8 year old child is not going to turn out to be a misogynist because of girl boss horror movies.

Your 8 year old child is not going to turn out to be a misogynist because women online don't want to play along when men mass gaslight people into thinking they should accept bad treatment.

Your 8 year old child is not going to turn into a misogynist because some adult women don't want to date men anymore.

Your 8 year old child is not going to become a misogynist because some adult women don't want to allow their adult male friends to proposition them for nudes when they have a bad day or because some adult women don't want to be asked out by adult men in public when they are signaling non verbally that they don't want to be approached and trying to teach non verbal cues about it.

Your 8 year old child is not going to become a misogynist because he hears some adult women talking about their lived experiences with ex partners.

If your 8 year old child becomes a misogynist, it will be because of the multi billion dollar social media astroturf campaign currently being waged online that is trying to make adult men into misogynists so that they can legally take away women's rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

By the time your 8 year old child is old enough to vote, likely a lot of those votes will have already been cast and the world will look very different right now, one way or the other, than it does right now.

But right now, your child is 8.

I'm sorry for being old fashioned, but your 8 year old probably shouldn't have unrestricted access to the part of the internet that is filled with billion dollar propaganda machines that want him to become a misogynist. He also probably deserves at least 5 or 6 more years where he regularly has dialogues with people in his life who can help him process and contextualize the media he consumes pretty often. If you can't do that on your own, maybe you should pay for a male therapist or sign your 8 year old child up for big brothers big sisters or ask some of his trusted male relatives who are not misogynists to spend more time with him. It also might be a good idea to get him used to talking to women you know who are safe and who are feminists and who are able to be kind to him and model boundaries and positive reinforcement of community social norms with your child.

It is not an argument that I believe is in good faith and not part of the aforementioned astroturfing campaign that you truly think that a kid who can't even do algebra should have unfettered access to the parts of the internet where women talk about their lived experiences with misogynistic behavior and attempt to warn others or vent about how to solve problems, though. I think a parent probably doesn't raise a kid for 8 years and believe that. At least I hope not. If that's true in your case, my guess would be that your kid is used to being given access to confusing or age inappropriate situations and content and will wind up overly mature for his age, if anything.

Y'all have got to stop virulently hating men. Like, I'm sorry, I fucking hate the patriarchy too, but the patriarchy isn't just men and saying it is just exculpates complicit women. I am the mother of a young boy, and I look at this precious, empathetic 8 year old boy I'm raising and I don't know where online is safe for him. Places like this will say he's evil just for his gender, and other places will say "we'll be your friend if you hate with us," and still others will radicalize him in other ways. Where is he supposed to go? Why are we saying the radicalization is the fault of the kids just trying to find a place to hang?

Like this is seriously getting urgent. You have got to fucking stop conflating the patriarchy and men. 53% percent of white women voted for Trump. Men aren't the problem. White supremacy and Christian patriarchal structures are two examples of patriarchy-reinforcing structures that aren't solely couched in maleness. Men aren't the problem, and pretending they are drives more men into more welcoming extremist spaces and also ignores all the parts of this that are forwarded by people who aren't men.

What I see happening all over is scared, depressed, lonely people looking for someone they're allowed to hate automatically, unquestioningly - someone they're allowed to place all the blame on. Fascism says people of color, non-Christian people, queer people, etc., are the ones they're allowed to hate.

And way too many of yall answer that no, it's leftist to hate men instead. You are doing *the exact same thing they are.*

Fucking knock it off.

The answer is we're not supposed to hate anyone automatically based on their immutable personal characteristics. Hate the specific people who've hurt you. Hate the self-reinforcing systems that let them get away with hurting you. Hate the strangers who prop up those systems. Hate the fascists. Hell knows I hate Donald Trump, but it's not because he's a man, it's because he's a piece of shit.

Hate the pieces of shit, not the gender.

But don't hate men just because they're men. That's unhelpful, stupid, insane, and entirely counterproductive. Fucking. Stop.

[neovillains]

PINK BOWS | NANAMI KENTO

syn. your boyfriend is scared of intimacy, but for all the reasons you never expected.

── virgin!nanami kento & fem-bodied!reader, established relationship, panty kink, masturbation, sexual fantasies, accidental vouyerism, etc | 3.1k words ( minors, ageless & blank blogs : do not interact )

note. a fic i found in drafts that i never got around to posting.

Nanami had been raised to value his future career-wise over all else. Taking his parents’ teachings to heart, he solely focused on his career, making sure that he followed the path to becoming someone who was financially stable and didn’t need to stress over bills and obligations. However, that seemed to be the only merit to it— not having to worry and being able to live a lavish life. They didn’t mention the exhaustion he would experience, putting excruciating hours in working behind a desk. They didn’t tell him how robotic it would feel to wake up for most days to get ready, go to work, and come back home at late hours to only eat takeout and fall straight to sleep. 

Barely a social life because all of his friends and the people close to him are always busy and when they do have the time, he unfortunately doesn’t. It was such a period of lonesomeness for Nanami, surviving but never really living. It wasn’t until a rare occasion of getting off of work early that he found himself in a bar, hitched up at a stool and slouching over the counter with a glass of whiskey nestled in his hand. He let out a deep sigh as he felt like this is the most rest he’s gotten ever since becoming a salaryman. In his blue button and animal print tie, he loosens the decorative piece and unbuttons the first few of his shirt as he slouches.

The sound of jazz playing through the speakers and the voices of other customers piling in on the Friday evening. He’s unaware of the pair of eyes that have settled on him this evening, the fine dime that watches two seats to his right. In a cute black backless dress that hugs every curve, you admire the blonde beauty that seems so exhausted. The way he composes himself, you can tell that he’s a reserved man and if anything, you’d have to be the one making a move on him. In your hand, a Sex on the Beach, the fruity drink gets disposed of in a few chugs before you’re standing on your heels and pulling out the stool right next to him. The scraping of the chair legs finally calls for his attention as his chestnut-colored eyes come into view. 

He wonders how you were able to do it so quickly. The many times he’s been approached by women in the office, he was always quick to turn them down. However, with you, he didn’t feel that inclination to deny you. You spoke as if it was your right to have him, the way your eyes twinkled as you smiled up at him and started an easy conversation beginning with a simple “hey!” You had so much charm to you that it loosened him up, and while you carried on most of the conversation, he found himself deeply captivated by you as you were him. 

At the end of the night, both of you exchanged numbers. You gnawed on your bottom lip, eyes flickering to his with a desire that he wasn’t used to seeing. You started to inch closer in hopes of something more, but you felt his body tense up when your lips ghosted him as you stood on your tippy-toes as he backed away. He cleared his throat, quickly dismissing the failed kiss and bidding you a farewell. “Have, uh— have a lovely night,” he stammered out before his leather shoes clicked on the hard concrete and he turned his back on you. 

Leaving you alone in the chilling night, you were grateful for the lack of people to witness your embarrassment before your heels clicked against the sidewalk as you walked in the other direction. He remembered feeling such guilt for leaving you hanging like that, and he felt anger within himself for doing the same to him. He’d love to have a taste of those plump and glossy lips of yours. Do they taste as sweet as you look? However, that curiosity died as his anxiety overcrowded his brain and spoke against his better judgment, his mind chastising him for a week as he stared at your phone number, neither one of you having the strength to message first. 

It’s pathetic how he deprives himself of something— someone— he wants. Someone he needs. Because only the heavens know how much Nanami needs this. Thankfully the gods listen to his pleas and his incessant whining, granting him the courage to finally message you first and ask you out on a date. It took you a couple of hours to respond back, debating with yourself if you should really go out with a man who backed away from a kiss. However, you figured that you were only being too fast and he wanted to take things slow. 

  He took you out to a food mall, a large building backed with restaurants, bakeries and cafes all in one setting. It proved that he was truly paying attention to you when you were droning on and on back in that bar. Dressed in a pink sundress that flowed down your body, each strut you took had Nanami mesmerized when you got excited and ran off to look at something. Your eyes would sparkle as a worker would come and hand you a little skewer to try. And for once Nanami was happy with his job, grateful to be able to spend ample of money on a pretty thing such as yourself. He didn’t care how much he spent on you, as long as he got to see the way your eyes lit up as you beckoned him to follow right behind you. 

Winning over each other’s hearts, you placed the titles of boyfriend and girlfriend on each other. Nanami was content with it, happy to spend time with you— to hug and hold you close whenever you came to visit him and vice versa. However, while he was complacent in the place where your relationship stood, you weren’t. When you finally managed to kiss him, they were always a peck and never lasted for too long, and even when he held you, that felt awkward. 

You could never rest on his lap, your head always against his chest. When you tried to deepen the kiss, he’d always pull away. Dammit, when you tried to take it even further, thinking that you were ready to sleep with him, he’d always break that sexual tension that lingered in the air, cutting his visit short. 

He treated you so well in almost every aspect except for the ropes of intimacy. Were you doing something wrong?

—

Nanami felt guilty for how he’d pull away, and deny you of what you wanted. He really did, but you really didn’t understand what you do to him. He felt weak and pathetic about how just being in such close proximity to his girlfriend made him feel. How his cock would create a tent in his pants and he struggled to conceal it. How had you not noticed? His body would shudder every time you tried climbing on his lap, his entire body stiffening as you’d do so. When you tried to deepen the kiss, he felt like he was a high school boy again, near to releasing in his pants. Things would escalate and he was afraid of the possible embarrassment he would feel for his inexperience. 

He should know better. He should know that you, his sweet little girlfriend, would always be so understanding and love him regardless. Something that he shouldn’t be so ashamed of. What was there to be? For you to know that your boyfriend loves you so much that he finds your presence to be an excruciating turn on? That a simple peck on his lips drives him crazy? That a single hug made him want to devote the rest of his life to you? He knows this conversation will happen sooner or later. But, for right now, he’d prefer it later. 

Standing outside your apartment door, he unlocks the door with ease, pushing it gently open. Your car’s not outside, but you should be home soon according to your work schedule. He had forgotten some work from his last visit, wanting your company while he caught up on the tedious workload, but ultimately forgetting it by the time that he left. Entering your small abode, the chill of inside greatly contrasts the heat of outside as he shuts the door behind him. He kicks off his shoes, a habit of his as he makes a beeline straight to your bedroom. Your bedroom door is wide open and he can spot just what he needs right on the desk that he claims as his own as you barely use it. 

He reaches for the stack of paper when he takes notice of a flimsy piece of fabric lying on the ground. Letting go of the documents, the sound of his footsteps echo through the room. Bending on his knees, he picks up a pair laced white panties with a pink bow right at the center. It has pink trimmings and in Nanami’s hand, they feel silky to the touch. He curses to himself for this type of intrusion. You’ve come to trust him so much to give him a spare key to your apartment, but here he is violating it to hold your dirty pair of panties and having the nerve to get hard while he’s at it. 

“Fuck,” he curses, looking at the crotch of your undergarment to see a dirty patch of your discharge. The way he can feel his cock strain in his khaki work pants makes him feel embarrassed and dirty, his face heating up in a shade of red. However, he never throws down the flimsy garment. He doesn’t stop himself from bringing it up to his nose, taking a heavy waft to know what you smell like. The musky scent of sweat and the pungent scent of your discharge overflowing his senses is overwhelming, feeling how his cock twitches inside his pants. He lets out a stuttered breath, his free hand going to cup his erection in some sort of attempt to let go of some of the tension. 

Veins protruding his hands as he palms himself, hands running along his girth. He can feel precum leaking from his tip. He hisses with how the urethra runs against the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs, wanting relief from its confined torture. He used to think of himself as a better man than this, a man who wouldn’t succumb to lust. However, the longer he withholds himself from you, the stronger the urge and his resolve is breaking— or, it has already broken. 

He finds himself sitting on the very edge of your bed, toes curling as he brings himself to undo his belt, letting the buckle fall as he loosens it. He unzips his pants, providing further relief to himself before he’s shimmying out of his pants and underwear. His work shirt rides up, revealing the blonde happy trail that leads to his cock. A dark shaft in comparison to his bright pink head, it’s swollen with lust as he continues to drip of precum. 

Nanami glances at the clock sitting on the ivory-colored nightstand. You’ll be back in less than an hour, which should be ample of time to get himself off before disappearing. He just has to make sure that he cleans up after himself well. His heart races at the excitement, which only makes him more turned on for this endeavor. Cupping his balls, he fondles them before letting your panties drop, them landing on his lap before he drapes it around his length. It looks pretty like this, he can’t help but think. He fixes the next hole down his cock before gripping the base of his length. Spit pools in his mouth before it lands on his pelvis, making him swipe the glob down. He smears it down his length, painting himself with the innocent body fluid. 

The palms of his hand are cold, making him tense up as he hikes up one leg for the pad of his foot to rest on the edge of your bed frame. The metal digs into the heel of his foot as he sets a moderate pace, toes curling as he can only think about you. He imagines your plump lips wrapped around his length, taking him in so slowly as those beady eyes of yours would look at him so innocently. Batting your eyelashes at him while you have your mouth open, on your knees so pliantly as he guides his cock to your lips. Precum smeared over your lips just how you like to decorate your lips with gloss. They’d shine so beautifully and smell just like him, too. You’d work your mouth like a pro, taking him inch by inch and making his mouth fall open as he’d throw his head back. 

This is all he thinks about when he’s pumping his cock, his grip tightening as he can only imagine. It’s shameful with how quick that coil in his stomach approaches, a choked up gasp leaving his lips as his cock twitch. His hold tightens around the base as he uses the next hand to cup at his balls with your panties wrapped around it. He can imagine you wearing these, how they’d hug you so cutely.

You’d be stripping out of your clothes slowly, in an effort to tease. They’d work, too. Shredding each layer of clothing until you’re in nothing but those same pair of panties before sauntering over to him seductively. And when you’re in front of him, forcing him to look up at you as you push him to lay down. You’d crawl over his body, your bare breasts hanging freely as you rest your ass down on his pelvis. You’d grind your hips so sweetly wearing those white laced panties, pink trimmings and a pink bow right in the middle, telling him to claim his prize. 

You’d grind your hips amazingly, putting him in a trance as you have his cock aching for more than the rock of your hips. His fingers digging into your flesh before trying to bring you even closer to him. You’d manage to make him whimper out the most pathetically filthy whines and whimpers known to man. He knows it. He just knows it. 

He knows it by the drawn out moan he makes when he releases on the white tiles, spurting out a load that should be stuffed inside of you. He throws his head back, nearly slipping off the bed before he catches himself. It feels euphoric to let himself go, to give into his cravings for you. If only you were here though, he sighs. It feels pointless to voice that if the person he craves the most isn’t here. 

But, speaking of the devil, you’re parking next to his silver Lexus, your 2010 Honda looking shabby in comparison to the up-to-date vehicle that belonged to your boyfriend. You hum in content, your eyes lighting up in anticipation to see your boyfriend. Parking the car, you reach for your handbag as you climb out the vehicle. With the click of a button, your car is locked as you climb the two-story flight to your apartment. You’re out of breath by the time you’re in front of the door and fishing for the right key off of your keychain. 

He promised himself that it would be quick, but Nanami’s still fucking his fist. His carnal desire for you pouring throughout in this moment, not hearing the shuffle of the locks from your front door. So absorbed in this lustful moment as he squeezes the tip, his fingers coated in his seed as he quickens the pace. 

You can see his shoes resting in the right corner while you hang your bag on the rack and shimmy out of your cardigan, kicking off your flats gently. While he can’t hear you, you hear him— the deep sounds of his voice grunting and panting from afar. With furrowed eyebrows, confusion fills you before realization as you near your bedroom. The wet sounds of plat, plat, plat echoing as you take careful steps. Your heart races as your eyes widen when you take a peek inside of your bedroom to see the compromising state of your boyfriend. 

Sitting on your bed with his pants resting a bit above his knees. His cock, spent as he strokes it. You can see the jagged line of his cum squirted out on the floor, strays catching his pants and the rest dripping from his fist. Arousal pools immediately as you silently watch, clenching your thighs together as you shuffle on your footing. You’ve been unknowingly holding your breath, your face heating up as you watch this moment. Your mouth dries up, gulping as your eyes flicker to his length as you watch his languid movement. His hip bucking in further need. It’s then do you see the strikingly bright shade of white and hints of pink, falling under realization that he’s jerking off with your panties wrapped around him. Shit, you curse as you start to heave. You cup your heat in need, thighs trapping your hand as you grind into your digits. 

“Shit,” Nanami curses, calling out your name as he can feel his balls tighten and his legs stiffen. “Fuck, I need you.”

With another orgasm, it’s not as copious as the previous, the trail following a shorter path as he paints his hand in his seed. Hips stuttering, he brings himself to lean back, using his cleaner hand to hold up his weight to bring himself back to reality. A fog full of stars and ecstasy clouding his vision before it’s all cleared up. He thinks he’s alone. He thinks the coast is all clear until he’s sitting up and right at the door way you’re standing there. He gasps, calling out your name in shock.

You feel like a deer caught in headlights, but this is your apartment after all. Eyes dilated as your hand is still stuffed in between your legs, you let out a heavy breath. It’s nice to know that all your worries about your relationship seem to get relieved at this moment as you quickly become elated. 

You start to saunter towards him, just as he envisioned. Only, you’re fully clothed when you push him down on the bed. His eyes widen as he calls out, “Wait. I—”

You cut him off, taking his cum-coated hand and bringing it to your lips. Tongue sticking out, you clean him all up and all his worries dissipate as he curses once more, fuck. “Whatever it is, promise that we work through it together, ya?”

Nanami nods, speechless and he puts all of his trust in you and his cock hardens again. He was a fool to be so worried. Finally, he’s able to mutter out a single word. “Yeah, okay.”

subscriptions ── @r0ckst4rjk @kasukuna @satsattoru @blcknebula @tojirin

[pomefioredove]

omg i LOVE the concept of cookies as asks so can i have a sugar cookie, #8, with chocolate drizzle and marshmallows thank yeww 🙏

t-t-total idia victory!

order #8, sugar with chocolate drizzle and marshmallows

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ internet connection

tropes: ex (mutuals) to lovers, roommate au characters: idia additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu

It was the closest experience to dating Idia had ever gotten, and likely the only experience he'd ever get again.

Three months.

Three perfect, blissful months.

That's 13.0357 weeks, 91.2501 days, 2,190 hours of chats, voice calls, and texts with someone he had almost considered his.

He was raising his confidence stats to ask them out when they sent him a message, which would be their last:

"router busted. sry. will get it fixed soon"

That was weeks ago.

Idia couldn't blame them. They were going to get tired of him eventually, and ghosting him, sucky as it was, was still the easiest way to let him down.

Then, at least, he could pretend that they were telling the truth.

"Come on, Idy! This is your chance! You'll never get over them if you never meet anyone else!"

Ortho's cheery, hopeful words twist Idia's stomach with guilt. He knows that. Of course he knows that.

He buries himself deeper into his blankets. "I don't want anyone else,"

"It's only for a few weeks. Maybe you'll make friends!"

Unlikely. Idia doesn't have the social XP for that. Who would want to be friends with him, anyway?

He can't even keep Magicord mutuals.

Then again, he has no other choice.

The Prefect had asked to stay somewhere with a high-speed internet connection while post-S.T.Y.X. Ramshackle was being repaired, and Ortho had volunteered Idia.

And his room.

Ugh. Why can't anything go right for once?

Idia hides under his covers like a small child, drowning the sound of the door and voices in PreMo.

He honestly doesn't know a lot about you. He doesn't get out much, and even if he did, you've always got those OP normie friends around you.

He knows you don't talk much. He's actually never heard you talk at all.

Whatever.

Idia only emerges from his blankets when his ears are ringing from the music and his body is sore from stillness.

He takes off his headphones and reads the room.

There's Ortho, projecting a beam of light on the wall, and there's Grim, chasing it, and there's you.

You seem a little out of place, awkwardly sitting on the floor when there are chairs and tables, your bags still at your sides, unpacked.

Something about you makes him feel at ease. Weird.

"Oh- Idy!" Ortho chimes. Idia jumps, and then everyone is looking at him. Crap.

"We were wondering when you'd come out! The Prefect has a question for you!"

You give Ortho a panicked look, as if to say you most certainly did not have a question for him. Idia has his own suspicions.

"About the Wi-Fi," Ortho chimes. "They really need to get online."

Idia narrows his eyes. His brother can handle something as simple as that.

"...O-okay," he mumbles. "I guess."

He reluctantly gets out of bed and sits beside you. At least with an objective, he isn't so nervous. You hand him your phone, some sad secondhand thing, and he puts in the password for you.

"Lemme know if it's slow. I've been working on upgrading the router, and it's been a little laggy," he hands your phone to you.

"Shouldn't be a problem, though."

You take it. "I can't complain, I don't have a router at all right now,"

Idia's face turns red.

His eyes go wide.

He can't place it, at first. What's that weird feeling? What is it about you-

You notice his expression. "Uh... did I say something?"

And when you speak again, just like that, Idia jumps to his feet.

"IT-IT'S YOU!"

"You?" Grim asks.

"You?" Ortho echoes.

"Me?"

Idia feels like he's losing his mind, his anxiety cracking and breaking away, shock taking its place.

"Y-yes, you! I know that voice! Don't you- you recognize mine too, don't you?!"

Your eyes widen.

"Oh... no... no way,"

"I-I can't believe this!" he says, suddenly grinning. "You weren't lying about the router, it must've got totally busted when S.T.Y.X- oh, crap. IT'S ALL MY FAULT!"

"Idy..." Ortho warns. "Your heart rate is-"

"I know! I know, I just- I can't believe it- you, of all people,"

He sits again, shaking. It takes you a moment to catch up.

"I... I wasn't lying," you mumble. "I've been trying to get a decent internet connection since we got back, but..."

"This is the guy?" Grim mumbles to you. He is ignored.

Idia feels lightheaded. This isn't real. This isn't happening. This is some weird dream.

He can't seem to stop grinning, anyway.

"Will you go out with me?!" he asks, without thinking at all. But not even the sinking feeling in his stomach is enough to ground him.

You stare back, your own eyes wide.

And then, in your familiar voice, in your familiar easing presence: "I'd like that,"

[sturnslutz]

introducing... teenagedirtbag!matt and innocent!reader

use of y/n a couple times.

matt had always been one to ignore girls. not that he didn’t like them, but because he truly just didn’t want them. his “bad boy” persona really lures girls in, and he’s learned that over the years.

his bad rep started off when he was only a young boy, not paying attention in class, and snapping back at teachers which caused multiple suspensions, detentions, and even one expulsion.

him getting expelled from full circle high school in somerville really turned his family’s life around. his brothers, chris and nick, were the complete opposite of him, but because he got switched, they had to too.

you weren't a very social person, but you weren't super shy. you could go and ask someone a question if you were lost, but you couldn't tell someone what they did wrong, even if it hurts you.

that's what some people adored about you, that you're so innocent. so pure. that's what people base you off of, and build on it.

"oh yeah, angel? she's so nice!" the amount of times you have heard that about you. people even named you angel, which you weren't mad about, but no one really called you by your actual name anymore.

somerville high was a dreading place for you. toxic jocks, wannabe pick me girls who bully the quiet kids when no doubt, they're 10x smarter. who even cares about grades anymore? high school social pyramids are based on how much you sleep with people and if you take drugs, which automatically puts you at a "higher level."

unfortunately, you were right in the middle. you smoked a couple times, but it wasn't a big thing. and obviously, you haven't hooked up with anyone, not even holding hands.

it was like sexual experiences were resistant to you no matter how much you craved it. you were literally the face of the quote, "perverted bitch with an angelic face."

others have told you that you had a sort of, "angelic presence" about you. like you were this breath of fresh air everyone desperately craved for, and it came naturally to you.

you were in math class, sitting in the back of the class with your tight clothes that hugged your curves perfectly, with an airpod in. you still paid attention to whatever the teacher was talking about, but she was currently at her desk allowing you guys to have a little break, or so she calls it. a certain announcement makes you take your headphone out.

"next class we're having a new student come into our class by the name of matthew sturniolo. i expect you all to treat him with kindness and respect."

matthew sturniolo? that sounded super familiar.

you looked down at your phone, opening up instagram and searching through your followers.

@matthew.sturniolo

he followed you already. and you followed him back.

he had liked a couple of your posts and stories, but you guys have never talked. he was so fine, and he had this dark vibe about him that had you soaked.

you would never admit it, but your thighs clenched a couple times when looking at his pics. you can't be thinking like this. you turn off your phone, putting your airpod in, blasting your music, rubbing your eyes to get those thoughts out of head.

you didn't even know what "thoughts" they actually were. you've never watched porn or anything, or even actually touched yourself properly. you just knew that you had a growing ache in between your legs.

the next day came faster than you had thought. upon remembering that matt would be arriving, you dressed in one of your best outfits, that was simple but showed everything that needed to be shown, perfectly.

you had sat in your seat, feet tapping against the ground repeatedly as you fiddled your thumbs in your lap. you turned around everytime someone walked in, and finally he walked in.

he walked so calmly and you both made eye contact immediately to which you turned around and acted cool. or so you thought.

you hadn't seen, but matt smirked softly as he took a seat a couple rows up next to some guy named jack who you've talked to a couple times. they immediately spark up a conversation, probably having met earlier and already became friends.

class had started, and your teacher kept talking. you had forgot a vital rule in her class, assigned seats. "hello matthew, welcome to the class. i hope everyone treats you with kindness and you make your time here productive. unfortunately, we do have assigned seats, and i have you seated next to, y/n. she's in the back over there."

she points to you and you don't necessarily notice as you're looking down at your phone. "y/n." you look up to the sound of your name being called a bit sternly, and see your teacher and a couple pairs of eyes looking at you, and a certain matt who was grabbing his bag.

"yes?" "matthew is coming to sit next to you." your eyes widen a bit as you make eye contact with him again as he walks towards you, smirking at you softly. you nod to the teacher and pull your eyes away from matt, who's now sitting next to you.

"sup." he slumps down next to you, your knees hitting each other. "hi." you respond, no more than a whisper. he nods and goes on his phone, the both of your guys' knees still rested on each other.

"we follow each other on insta right?" he says as he pulls your profile up, a sudden wave of embarrassment flowing through you as he clicks through your highlight of yourself, lingering a bit too long on the few bikini pics or pajama pics.

"mhm." you hum. he chuckles softly, nodding again. "nice." he puts his phone away, and his eyes rake over your body. you pay no attention to it as you tap on your computer a couple times to start working on the assignment.

"wanna hangout later?" you almost thought you were dreaming. "w-what?" you look over at him, your eyes meeting. "hangout. later. i'll pick you up and we can jus' go to the park or somethin'. whatever you wanna do. not a date though. jus' wan' a pretty girl to show me her favorite spots."

he had a certain tone to his last words, "favorite spots" which gave you a hint of something else besides what he was saying, a hidden intent in his words. this caused a shiver through you before you nod. "um, yeah sure. here." you hand him your phone for him to put his number in, and he does, quickly texting himself before taking his phone out, texting you back and saving your contact.

"'ight. i'll pick you up later, yeah?" "yeah, sure."

@muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @angeliijay12-blog @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris @iloveduckssm @stvrnioloslvt @sturn777 comment to be added or removed.

[azumasoroshi]

some of yall gotta lock tf in cuz i was reading a fic today where the author marked their fic as completed when it wasn’t and so the first chapter ended on a hella cliffhanger

and one of the comments was like “omg this is so good is there gonna be a part 2??? cuz that is an illegal cliffhanger” and the author was like “omg yes thank you there’ll be a part 2!! i only marked it as completed because people avoid unfinished fics”

like. should you not mark unfinished fics as completed? yeah no dont do that. should yall motherfuckers ALSO be reading unfinished fics so that this isn’t a problem? YEAHHHHH MAYBE

i fucking LOVE reading unfinished fics cuz that means i get to write comments about how much i loved the latest chapter without irrationally worrying that something i say will be disproven in the next already existing chapter LMFAO like it’s fun!!! all you gotta do is:

write a short summary of what happened in your bookmarks and note down what chapter it’s on out of how many, eg. gojo gets hit with suguru coffee blast meet cute 1/?

if it’s really short atm eg. <2k words 1 chapter, just put like some random word eg. explosion 1/? and you can just relive the experience blindly again when you come back to enjoy it. have fun with this one by the way, ive done some really obscure ass words/memes where i dont know what the hell they have to do with the story when i come back to it and then i read it again and im like OHHH I GET IT NOW. and sometimes i never understand what past me had in mind when writing it which is really funny it’s like a time capsule

^pro tip you can also do this for fics that are finished. literally anything. have FUN with your BOOKMARKS they’re so easily customizable and if you get self conscious you can always just make them private lol

subscribe OR just periodically scroll through your bookmarks OR mark it for later OR use original tags to mark it as unfinished or like. literally anything idfk

if you feel like being a real chad and leaving a comment it’s super easy too you can just be like omg love x scene that happened in this chapter it was so angsty/cute/crazy/unexpected/insert adjective and i loved it/im rolling on the floor/im dying/im in the ambulance, cant wait for next chapter xoxo heart emoji like it’s THAAAT easy. said by someone with dogshit social anxiety and a tendency to overthink every action ive ever made, IT’S THAT EASY!!

and like. boom. that’s it. you get new content from fics you love delivered straight to your door!! hello??? even if they never update again are you really gonna mourn the loss of like 10 seconds of your time. cmon you’re already on ao3 for hours at a time like. lock INNNNNNN

me personally i get so much fuckin shit in my emails that i can’t turn off notifs for. so when i get a notification that some fic i dont even remember updated i get hyped as SHIT because finally some good fucking FOOD!! even if i dont remember it right now i must’ve liked it enough to subscribe to it and i know my taste better than anyone else so it must be good shit lmfao…and if it’s a fic i REMEMBER then it’s like YEAHHHHH BABY. do you even comprehend how many times ive checked my phone at the bus stop and gotten a notif from either a fic or author i’ve subscribed to and just. instantly start grinning like a maniac because YESSSSSSS

can personally attest that this has happened multiple times from ao3 user hollow_lime_green (Hanatamago) and many other authors. do ittt. brighten up your day. pspspspsp do itttttttttt

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

Some Ford doodles

[vaguely-concerned]

I haven't decided what faction I want my character to be from in veilguard yet, I Need More Information before I can definitively make a call. but I must admit the siren song of rocking fifth house style disturbingly no-nonsense chill in the face of horror swag with the mourn watch is very loud and potent. speakers to the dead (and the dead are savage) vibes are so strong and so tempting

[hadleyr]

I appreciate the thought process in constructing this, but I fundamentally disagree with the conclusions, both In & Out of Universe. As far as I see it:

In both the main universe & the AU, Jayce is the one judged responsible for the magical explosion, given the gems were his illegal creations. However, he dies in the blast (presumably along with Caitlyn), so he never gets to meet Viktor - which also means that Viktor likely dies shortly after, given there's no Hexcore/Shimmer to sustain him. Evil Cosmic Horror God Viktor either doesn't need to remember, or doesn't even look at, the universes where he dies before the anomaly comes into existence.

Grayson, being a more pragmatic Sheriff than Marcus would have arrested the kids not for the explosion, but for the Breaking & Entering. They didn't leave with anything, so even charging them with burgulary is a bit of a big ask. Given that their ringleader died in the process of the crime, the remaining kids likely get little more than a caution - especially with Vander's deal with Grayson; they'd probably negotiate some kind of resolution that day, instead of the protracted mess that happens in the main universe. Part of the reason things play out so badly in the main universe is the effort to hide what happened & who was involved - that manhunt never happens in the AU because the kids never flee the scene.

There's no guarantee that Vander & Silco's reconciliation happens as a result of the blast - could have happened at any point between Vander's attempted murder and shortly before the "present". It's not unreasonable to think that the cycle could have been broken at any point, the lack of shimmer production in the AU suggests Silco never turned to that as a means for power/revenge. However, if it is as a result of the blast, Vander's grief makes him seek out that old connection, and it's not ridiculous that Silco would be more accepting of a clearly regretful, humbled Vander, especially if they both can forgive the original grievances. The fact that Vi & Powder are the only legacy left of Felicia, and one of those is now gone, the two likely bond over her memory, and that helps rebuild the bridges.

As for Powder, yes, she carries a lot of guilt for Vi's death, but she didn't have the experience of her worst fears being validated (Vi calling her a Jinx - hell, Milo only calls it her in the show as a result of her losing the stolen goods; that doesn't happen in the AU) and believing she was being abandoned before being raised by a man who didn't understand how (or want) to help her heal from her trauma. I'm sure Powder blames herself, and still has work to do to address/recover from her trauma, and yes, her underlying mental illness maybe still be there, but everyone in her life is much more supportive and would be able to help her heal as much as possible.

Powder never lashes out at the council, because there's: 1) No loss of support network for resolving her trauma 2) No rising escalation between Enforcers & The Lanes 3) Reconciliation between Silco & Vander 4) No Hextech for her to even weaponise 5) No paternal figure encouraging her to lash out at the council in response for his death

Also, Caitlyn is also presumed to have died in that explosion too, in which case, Cassandra Kirraman might have even been forced to step down from the council (Jayce was sponsored by her, there'd be some social consequence there). So Cassandra might not even have died even if Powder were to attack the council.

No Hextech means Ambessa looks somewhere else for a weapon to wield against the Black Rose, so she doesn't ever engineer the circumstances to push Piltover to declare Martial Law, so no Dictator Salo/Cait (even if she's not dead). No Dictator means no strike team, and no genocide.

So no, everybody would not die, and not just because of "The power of love and friendship", though Powder having a life full of those things (rather than basically devoid of them) would make a big difference to her wellbeing & development/behavours.

It's not the writers forgetting things, it's them reassessing a lot of the instigating events of the series and looking at what happens if they play out differently. There might be even more opportunities for things to play out differently that you could spot if you went back through Season 1 Episodes 1-3 in more detail!

The writing in the AU episode is so weird.

Enforcers don’t care about arresting children and innocents. So in the AU Timebomb episode, am i suppost to believe that Powder blew up a rich guy's house and they...let her go?

Piltover has killed a bunch of children, they are not going to care about this two kids who were stealing things from them.

Jayce would be arrested for tempering with magic, regardelss of Vi dying or not, he would meet Viktor and he would convince Jayce to make hextech. He would become obsessed with viktor and fuse him with the hextech.

Evil cosmic horror god Viktor told us that! He said "IN EVERY REALITY HE LOOKED".

Guess the writers just forgot about that detail.

- Powder would definitely be arrested and she would have gone crazy with grief and guilt.

- Vander and Silco would not become besties 4ever after a murder attempt.

- Silco would still go after power and revenge.

-And Powder would hate Piltover for killing her sister and for the arrest.

Powder would probably hate Jayce and try to kill the council. Caitlyn's mom would die and Caitlyn would become a shitty dictator and commit genocide. Because she has a massive ego and has to make everything about her and make everybody suffer just because she is sad.

And without Vi around, guess she would never get her weak ass "redemption arc".

Everybody would die.

But i guess everything just got better with the power of love and friendship!

[blackvahana]

i am really never going to understand why people post "shifting antis dni" in the astral projection tag. "here practice that constantly gets appropriated by us and used as a weird justification for a new set of beliefs that aren't really based in the same reality you work with, and that also gets completely misunderstood by our community because we don't care to understand what you do and just pretend we know it's what we do like christians saying other religions worship the christian god, have a post! Also dni if you don't like our practice that has nothing to do with the one whose tag we just shoved this into"

if you're not astral projecting don't put shit in the ap tag. if you don't even know the difference between AP and RS I dont think your opinion holds enough weight to counter the pushback against flooding a separate practice's tag with "if you dont like the practice I'm talking about in your tags dni"

[bruciemilf]

AND there are canons where Bruce is perfectly well-adjusted, has hobbies, hangs out with his friends, loves his family, and is a perfectly normal, sweet guy other than the whole "billionaire and Batman" thing. But Alfred gets all the blame and none of the credit with you "Alfred was a bad parent" people.

But??? I never said?? Alfred was bad???

[lith-myathar]

.

[novafire-is-thinking]

I finally had time to put this together

I was tagged twice (thanks @aecho-again and @sphnyspinspin!), so I’m going to list characters from 8 different pieces of media. To make everyone’s lives easier and improve accuracy, I’ve included quick character summaries below the cut. Check those out before you vote because I want to see votes made based on perceived ACCURACY—not familiarity. In the reblogs, I see this skewing the majority of the results because people are pitching to followers who don’t know certain characters.

But hey—if you’re not interested in reading all the summaries, go ahead and vibe vote. I’m trying to practice not taking things so seriously.

Tagging @aspiring-prototype @blighted-lights @frootertooter @lishadra @decepticon-nerd @theconfusedtissue @staijey-the-creator @prismicnexus @cadet-songbird @karlyanalora @transformersloversworld @lets-try-some-writing @onewingedsparrow + and anyone else who’s interested

Character summaries below:

Soundwave

You all know who he is already. Tactical genius, spymaster, braincell of the Nemesis.

Mel Medarda

Mel Medarda is a Noxian aristocrat based in Piltover and a member of Piltover's ruling council. A disowned heir of the Medarda Clan, Mel is an ambitious politician willing to do anything to put herself at the top. Using her political prowess, the actions she made have forever changed the course of Piltover's history.

Mel is a clever and cunning person, able to influence and manipulate people to her advantage. She cares for Piltover and wants to see it prosper, yet she is very calculated and analytical, and can often be hesitant to support rash solutions to problems. While she cares for certain members of her family, she clashes with her mother and ultimately decides to vote for peace with Zaun in defiance of her mother's aggressive ideals. (source)

Obake (Bob Aken)

Back when he was a student at SFIT, Bob Aken had plans to change the world for the better with cutting-edge technology. But following his accident, the permanent damage he suffered to his brain had a negative effect on his psyche, rendering him cold-hearted and insane.

His previous ambitions were now greatly twisted by the belief that genius should not be held back, but have the freedom to explore it to help civilization progress, in whatever way it had to come, and his desire to be recognized for it only fueled his mentality. While he still intended to make the world a better place, he didn't care if innocent people got hurt or even killed in the process as a small price to pay for his desires. He became an intimidating man who terrified other criminals like Yama and was described by one of the Mad Jacks as "kind of a freak". Despite his insane beliefs, he acted calculating and patient. (source)

Shadow (NOT the game version)

Shadow is extremely arrogant, blunt, aloof, cold, aggressive, brooding and very loyal to whomever he is serving and determined to whatever cause he is fighting for. He is anti-social and does not speak or smile much. However, he often smirks when being sure of himself, or if he thinks lowly of someone. But deep down, he does have a heart. He cares for those who cared for him such as Maria, Molly, Rouge and Chris and often follows their goals in his own fashion no matter what the cost is. . . (source)

Shadow is clearly harsh, abrasive and blunt. Yet, he appears to be an introvert due to his aloof, silent, and cautious nature. He’s not impulsive and usually appears calculated. He prefers to work alone, and usually takes a relatively direct approach in dealing with things. He doesn’t hold strong values, yet has a solid sense of identity and self-worth. (source)

Mizu

Mizu is mostly concerned with her own quest for revenge and is mostly uncaring towards the feelings of others as she pursues this quest. She will, at the very least, avoid killing those who are not a threat and, despite admitting that she is no samurai, has a sense of honor. She’s not outwardly self-deprecating or despairing, but it’s evident that years and years of being called a monster and half-breed, of living in a society where no one looks like her at all, have taken a toll. She cuts herself off from any meaningful human connection and turns that internalized resentment into her only mission in life. (source)

Jo March (2019 film and book versions)

(Note: I couldn’t find any decent, short summaries of either version, so I pulled a couple lines from an article about film Jo and a quote from the book—both of which capture Jo’s essence.)

Jo March’s emotions run deep, and her character’s complexity is beautifully portrayed by Ronan. From the beginning, Jo is determined to break social norms and pursue her dream of becoming a writer. She embodies a mix of ambition, frustration, and hope. . . (source)

“I’d have a stable full of Arabian steeds, rooms piled with books, and I’d write out of a magic inkstand, so that my works should be as famous as Laurie’s music. I want to do something splendid before I go into my castle—something heroic, or wonderful—that won’t be forgotten after I’m dead. I don’t know what, but I’m on the watch for it, and mean to astonish you all, some day. I think I shall write books, and get rich and famous; that would suit me, so that is my favorite dream.” (from Little Women)

22

22 is a soul with a snarky and cynical attitude. She is not interested in having a life on Earth and would rather stay at the Great Before due to believing life on Earth to not be that great. (source)

22 wants nothing to do with actually living. 22 has spent “centuries” avoiding real life, avoiding leaving her comfort zone, and avoiding feeling ready to be someone. She has not found her “spark” because she has never overcome her self-doubt about being good enough, qualified enough, and fearless enough to get born. Instead, she has intellectualized about it, developed a negative, avoidant cynical attitude about engaging with reality, and done everything possible to block anyone’s efforts in helping her get ready. (source)

The Little Prince

He is brave and curious enough to explore and leave his home planet in search for truth. He is kind to all whom he encounters but in his childlike innocence, he is often puzzled by the behaviors of grownups who seem odd, illogical and superficial to him. In his exploration the prince learns how to love properly and how to establish true friendships.

The Little Prince is imaginative and curious and knows all of what he knows only by exploring it himself. (source)

Not me having some kinda type... Who shall I tag? I think I wanna tagggggg... @mybugsmybugsmybugs @mexicangela @lunar-years @biscuitboxpink but no pressure!! I just thought it would be fun!

[pikagatogirltits]

I keep on trying to make this post and keep on erasing it but I think I need to take a break from Tumblr.

[spectre-writes]

Me: I should finish my existing fics

The Devil: *whispering* But what if you wrote a Tesla lives AU?

[unproduciblesmackdown]

april autism acceptance month posting, the musings of (going for Self Acceptance as well) from the desk of milo unproduciblesmackdown....

mostly just having reflected on like, huh, might be that By And Large one is more nonspeaking than one thinks....that i've Been like "well sure in person i'm usually markedly Quite Quiet but also secretly a mile a minute chatterbox." like already aware of factoring in the Quietness in terms of like, generally always having been in everyday situations where i don't Want to talk. which also means being aware of like, someone the other day was talking about how the ""normal"" approach (which is not even simply Non Autistic, just the "ideals" in any sense that are Not That, yet positioned as such, to the disempowering Othering of others/anything else) is that verbal exchanges are often nigh exclusively about coming into it with some Goal in mind and just being dead set on that exact inflexible outcome / the other person's input can probably really only get in the way of that. used to be asked How Was Work by family and if i answered in the accurate negative would be told how it wasn't that bad actually; then why even ask. nowadays i know i'm virtually only spoken to to say something At Me; the other day frustrated by this & had an "exchange" where, when being [Talked At] for a sec, didn't really verbally respond at all, which was not considered a wrench in the proceedings in the least, as i expected........relevantly as well, i'm v aware of Talking becoming markedly more difficult if drained &/or stressed (or, w/immediate relevancy, the Talking being especially miserable atm, causing that exhaustion/stress w/high efficiency). that somewhat more Freestyle "normal" communication can include "you have to speak to acknowledge another person's presence, or its hostile" and that speaking is the especially Hollow Scriptathon of things like, getting hit with the "how are you [misgendering]" which, absorb the punch of misgenderment, gear up for Speaking which also is already "wrong," too much delay, remember that you never answer How Are You with how you are, and sometimes just not Pretending to answer and just repeating the question is not particularly more negatively regarded than any other way you approach it

musing on the [it's all bizarre but definitely getting shit for being audhd / nonbinary] childhood / first twenty yrs of life mysteries, like, well when being lectured as it were, which was nothing if not an intensified hollow scriptathon (see: the perfectly harmonious resonance in "how you navigate existing around an abuser" and "how you navigate existing anywhere but expressly personally friendly/safe spaces, being autistic") too demeaning to be borne, where it would be wrong to not make eye contact, then making forced eye contact (and learning how to just like, approach it as a [go through the motions] detached thing) was also wrong, it was wrong to not seem distressed and also to seem distressed; and it's like oh yeah back then & even now i can be as Stressed as anything but there's always a shift where if i make myself Talk i may cry like immediately, which i virtually never do out of otherwise being unhappy/stressed. there's how one of my most genuine friendships in elementary school (the autistic time as well of: many/more friendships from all public school times were other people Deciding we should be "friends;" sometimes this being like, the friend In Charge, and then: me, conveniently) was one where i don't think we actually Spoke. may not be a typical neurotypical thing. there's also the fact our being Distracted by interacting, that is, [not talking] during not even a lesson where the stakes were like "you haven't put this sheet in your folder at the exact time Instructions demanded you to, no sooner or later???" was punished more dramatically (and individually. classic) than i ever saw anyone get for Being Distracted / Not Paying Attention or certainly for talking. very nd of me for that too; like the Especial disdain teachers would have if i Was talking and too caught up in the exchange to notice it was supposed to be the quiet times now, which of course was wilfull disrespect for authority.....like oh but believe me i have that too lmfao, and these instances do not counter it. f for my friendship with jacqueline b/c we weren't allowed to sit next to each other and the disproportionate/extraordinary qualities of the response made it so it was hardly clear we were even allowed to interact at all, for all intents and purposes. great

certainly verbality at all can be a whole challenge too overall, but w/focus on the speaking....truly the mile a minute speaking / voluminous writing of things Happens, but it's sure when i get to talk About something, and the High Motivation boost of [whatever's being talked about] is quite necessary b/c it sure still takes effort lol....This is taking effort, to be sure. meanwhile there's also the damper of like, people's Disinterest / Dismissal meaning that just b/c you talk doesn't mean anyone hears you, to an extent it's nigh literal lol, beyond double empathy problem misunderstanding (plus that: ppl know they don't have to understand, &/or can choose to (pretend to) misunderstand / know they don't get it, but don't have to) there's also just like, not bothering to process what you say; being the one talked over like you weren't saying anything, lack of any response at all like you weren't saying anything, someone else cutting in and you may as well no longer be here / nth wheeling in any group. the times i've had to say something which needs a response / to be absorbed, and fighting for my life doing so / reiterating like half a dozen times / repeating this later, multiple times, b/c i know someone may give you the "politeness" of Looking At You / nominal spoken stock responses, while not absorbing it / forgetting it after 5 sec..........to be sure, times i've had an extensive, specific, belabored exchange (plus alllll the extra effort to emphasize Amicability in it) that got such responses, only to have it later clear they didn't actually absorb the point they'd apparently gone "right, okay" to. times i've [that] and then 5 min later had the person i'd talked to come over to be like "oh did you say [the thing i said to them]" only b/c some third party had overheard and actually processed it, then in turn had what They conveyed to that person i'd talked to actually listened to; had "i am once again asking" agonies multiple times over months & months only eventually fulfilled, spontaneously, by someone else entirely....

also that, when i Was able to having amicable, comfortable, in-person exchanges, my ""small talk"" friendly engagement to nonhostilely acknowledge someone / have an exchange involves Verbal Bits (running gag for Dinnermaking Convo to pretend to be on iron chef, and all named chef geoff, for example) or Nonverbal Ones (entering one's peripheral vision and dancing until acknowledged, to be funny, or ignored, also to be funny) or even simply that the amicability can come from other people, in spite of it all, by just not interpreting my operating while being myself and not constantly going out of my way to try to expressively reassure someone i'm friendly to them being met with [people just not deciding they hate me and/or i am beneath them] like, some great times lol. friendships where we didn't Really start talking for eons, and i go "guess people gotta be patient" like well sure lol. and then they gotta like how i Do interact

and the next bit of "can't believe you keep learning; realizing things" is just going like "ohh wait, was thinking of one's inherent value within a framework of [noninherent value you can so totally Bootstraps Earn we swear]" lol like....even in terms of like "nd people are the backbone of your fandom" type things like, well yeah they are; and that "sometimes people think it's neat that you can draw" like yeah it is and sometimes they really are; but that it's like, but Forget It re: thinking of that like "well so that Makes Up For [being autistic] as it might usually negatively impact socializing by 'normal' standards" like, to hell with making up for anything. i like to post about interests and draw about them and it's fun when people enjoy them and it can be fun to Talk About something / interact through that; it's not like "ableism: over" nor making up for anything, and what can really come of thinking it has to be Valued by how it might make other people see You as more inherently worthwhile yourself than they otherwise would've, right. i'm like "well i don't always express myself xyz ways but at least i do in other ways i suppose" but end the sentence before the But. i'm not As Good(tm) As Allistic through the [expressing myself] i do through drawing, and that's fine b/c autistic ppl having talents people value isn't the antiableism key lol. next i can be [tfw autistic ppl try to go Above & Beyond at work to "make up for" being autistic] or employers being like "hey maybe hire autistic people" not to be Inspirationally Inclusive in theory or whatever but b/c it's like, they'll be exploitable / valuable as exploited employee. like how autistic people get fired or burned out and then it's like whoops, we need like 5 new hires to replace them; who wasn't promoted, paid, or recognized as doing 6 ppl's work. everything being [popularity contest] actually. not to say Posting For Fun is the exact same as formal job lmfao nor randos like employers; but essences remain, see: that resonance with [reacting to abuser's attention] behavior and [interacting with randos out & about, trying to be deemed Friendly Normal Correct enough] behavior. the throughline that people won't regard you as having inherent value unless they regard people as having inherent value, on principle

i do have peak success like, an art post is very tl;dr billboard for Your Existence lol. and then if people are interested enough in whatever brand of [saying shit] i do? probably promising start to whether interactions with me won't be [their interest is exhausted within a day] lol. find some fellow nd people by crossing paths via interest, which is a Talk About Something thing. and even then, of course, you're not guaranteed friends with every other nd person. Spontaneous Alignments, everyone's friend....while at this juncture it's like, hmm, maybe i Am actually not like. theoretically interested in [i want to have new friendships] lmao. thinking about what they're supposed to be? what i could even think of them hypothetically being? invokes no [i want that] feelings. thinking of someone else saying, in a different context, how he doesn't think anyone's Guaranteed any kind of companionship, which i agree with (vs. ppl talking about it like Bootstraps Merit like yes you can Deserve a romantic partner, and Deserve friends too, and a general appeal/likability/personableness will be concomitant w/a Deserving person); thinking of someone else talking abt, in a different context, how her experience being racially othered means she just doesn't end up liking being around people at all / prefers being alone. the first guy talking about how he doesn't Preclude new relationships but he also approaches w/deliberation like, navigating being content being alone. thinking abt stuff talking about [autistic ppl who want romantic relationships] that mention ppl having to go ahead and work on being okay with the idea they may very well never have one. the questioning of [relationships] and [community] in a consciously political context; what's it mean for someone to have Relationships, be in a Community, would that be Required of them for them to deserve / get to expect to receive [xyz] that everyone theoretically would. thinking of relationality as acknowledgment of the realities of ways things, incl people, affect each other, the results of that

that's about all lol might "ideally" be more nonspeaking than i gave myself credit for; only shifting towards "i give myself inherent value on principle and can only be regarded as having inherent value by others Also on principle" like no [bootstrapping earning shit] as a way to also see value in what i do either lol

[babyilluwu]

being autistic in my experience involves having made fic authors cry with the comments you left when you were exactly 11 years old (yes) so now that you are an adult and have acquired the ability of Tact™ you think very hard about what is and what isn't acceptable to leave as feedback